The Message
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How strange the universe was, in all its wandering paths. He had never intended to be here, at this place, so hallowed and revered. He'd read about it during school, during the academy, during his service, but he never believed he'd be here.
It had been a while. A long time since Earth. A long time since he'd seen that man in a bar so long ago. He smirked, the young sailor boy had been fun for the evening, but ultimately that wasn't what he needed. He'd hopped cargo ships and freighters across half of the universe, and occasionally he could get the vortex manipulator to work. Unfortunately, 'work' for the vortex manipulator meant nearly unpredictable leaping across time and space.
Now he spent so much time just trying to get back to Earth. Back to the time when he called it home. So how it was he ended up on Crafe Tec Heydra so far into the past was as curious as any other. The universe was never so large as people believed. Forces conspired constantly to pull and drag players together. Sometimes in spite of those players. He'd avoided trying to remember that man. Possibly the only person he ever truly loved. He closed his eyes, that wasn't true. He loved Ianto, he loved the mother of his child, loved his daughter, loved his… He closed his eyes, his lips thinned as he remembered.
It was part of the reason he fled. Not the idea of what had happened on Earth, or the loss of Ianto, or the fact he could never look his daughter in the eyes. It was the fact that eventually that man would come screaming back into his life and he couldn't bear to see this man whom he admired, he loved look at him in complete disappointment. So he'd fled his home to search the universe for an answer to a question. And now he stood at the beginning of the story, from his point of view. The story that had defined the man he'd come to love and admire and in some part fear, and the man that had come to define him as who he was.
He stood at the base of the mountain and looked up. The cliff-face was intricately carved. The images telling a vague story of gods, of monsters, of fearsome armies clashing in the greatest beyond. His eyes traced the story east to west, men versus machine, flesh versus steel. He watched as the two wrestling armies slowly transformed. The depictions of them slowly altered, the men and the monsters coming closer in form together. All the while one figure remained constant, though the images showed him awash in blood, his form never degraded like his brethren.
As his eyes continued sliding over the story, down the side of the mountain to the lowest line of artwork, to the final day. Even after all this time he still winced as he came to the last image, he knew the stories, every time traveler knew the story, everyone knew about the cataclysm and the day that death came to time. That image was burned into every time traveler's memory, the great explosion with the image of a single figure walking slowly away. Alone….
Except that wasn't true. He knew it wasn't true. He'd seen it, he knew that the figure depicted wasn't alone. A thought pushed into his mind. It was ridiculous but the mountain had not yet gotten the last part of its message sent, if he did it, now, maybe something would change… Maybe, maybe it was possible to do something, to warn that lonely wanderer, to tell him that he wasn't alone. Maybe he could change his own history. He took the sonic blaster at his side, and pointed it up at the bottom of the mountain. He set the weapon to a wide dispersal pattern, and slowly and wearily he carved out a message to sing across time. He remembered the words from pictures in history books, in texts, the words were famous in his time, philosophy professors had semester long classes on these words. And now, only he knew specifically what they meant, and like so many of the universe's great mysteries, the answer was completely deflating…
"You know, I always had a nasty feeling it was you." came a broguish voice from behind him.
He turned quickly to see an older gentleman with gray hair standing behind him. The man wore a black jacket with crimson inlay, and checked pants that looked worn at the knees. His arms were crossed over his chest. Behind the man was a blue box.
"It's you…" he said a little astonished.
"Well, this is one of the greatest mysteries since the last greatest mystery, I had to have a look." the man said, walking forward and looking up at the mountain face. He pointed to the last letter of the alien word for 'alone'. "Always wondered why the last letter was jittery at the end." The gray haired man looked to him and then nudged him with an elbow. "Spooked ya huh, Jack?"
"A little, oughta put a bell on you…" Jack said quietly.
"I did." the man said nodded back to the box. There was a plump man with a bald head waving from the door. "We're still doing a test run, the glue's still drying. His head popped off while we were being chased by pygmies, I'm using a different bonding agent now."
"You've regenerated, I see." Jack said trying to think what the other man was thinking.
"Oh, yeah, you know how it goes." The man said looking at himself. "Could've done better, could've been worse, Scottish, again. I was once before, you know, well twice, but this one's proper Scottish, angry Scottish, I mean just look at the eyebrows-"
"Yeah, they're impressive-" Jack said, frowning. "So then that means you're here to-"
"Admire the handy work." The man said looking up at the mountainside. "I just like to come here periodically and look at it all, puts it in context."
Jack looked up at the mountain. "I had hoped maybe-"
"You know better, Jack." The man groused as he walked forward. "Defacing a war monument, causing centuries of philosophical debate, you had to know it wouldn't change anything."
"I thought maybe, maybe if things had happened differently. If you got the warning earlier-" Jack said. "Maybe, maybe I could change something anything, maybe you'd have been there when, when-"
The man looked at him. Jack gulped as he looked back, the look of sadness on the man's face was clear.
"I heard." the man said finally. He took a deep breath. "I knew back when you met Alonzo."
"I tried, you have to believe me I tried," Jack pleaded as the man turned to look back up at the mountain, "but I'm not you. I couldn't be you!"
"You say that as if it's a bad thing." The man said as he pocketed his hands. He turned and looked at Jack. "You were just being pragmatic, no problem in that, we all do it, you saved the world!"
"I got so many killed!" Jack retorted. "My own grandson. I used him and he…"
"Ah, yes, that…" the man said nodding. He turned looking back up at the mountain and pointed. "Do you see that up there?"
"Everyone has, it's famous across the universe." Jack replied.
"But have you seen it?" the man said more insistently.
"It's the size of a mountain how could I not! I carved into it!" Jack returned a little annoyed.
"No, but have you seen it!" The man said pointing at the mountain. "Look! Or can't you see it."
"See what?" Jack asked.
"Everything-" the man said sternly. "You had nothing but horrific choices, but you still chose. You made a horrible choice, and you have to live with it. You have to go on. You are so afraid of what I think of you, but it wasn't my choice, I wasn't there. I can't criticize your choice when I've got this in my closet!" The man said pointing at the mountain. He looked at Jack sternly and he shook his head. "I've made my own fair share of mistakes. I stood back, and I fought a war, I lost - everything I loved, banished it to the darkness. My family is dead, my granddaughter died in a Dalek prison camp, I couldn't even be bothered to go after her. My people turned into monsters, and I made a decision, a choice, and I lost myself for a very long time." The man took a deep breath and looked up at the mountain. "One can only hope that in the end that your choices make more things better than they make things worse." He turned and looked to Jack. "I can't absolve you of your sins, Jack. No one can do that for you, but you. I can only suggest you go home, you look for forgiveness, and if you're lucky someone will forgive you, but if they don't, you have to forgive yourself and go on being a good person."
"But what - what if you can't get home?" Jack asked looking at the man.
"Can't?" The man reached into his jacket and pulled out a massive screwdriver. "I can fix that."
"Compensating for something?" Jack said smirking.
The man's bushy gray eyebrows bunched together, he frowned. "Never had to in the past." He reached out and grabbed Jack's arm and then glared at Jack. "And stop it. I don't know what it is about 51st century humans, but just stop it."
"Me, or-" Jack smirked as the man poked at his wristband.
"The whole century." the man said in annoyance. The screwdriver whirred at the wristband on Jack's wrist. Suddenly the device on the band bleeped and blooped and came to life. "Right, that should give you one or two good shots to Earth I'd say about six months after you left." The man pointed his screwdriver at the device. "And another bit, just in case."
"In case?" Jack asked.
"If you could, hand that over to Kate Stewart, after you get back. I might need it in 2013." The man said. "Don't worry, it'll be safe in the Black Archives…"
"You know about the Black Archives!? I barely know about the Black Archives!" Jack yelped.
"Shh, it's a secret, just you and me." the man said, putting his finger to his mouth and winking one of his blue eyes, a mischievous smirk playing across his lips.
The man started to walk away from Jack, towards the blue box in the distance.
"Doctor!" shouted Jack loudly. The man stopped and turned on his heels. The black jacket he wore flaring out showing off the crimson inlay inside. "Thank you." Jack saluted.
The man waved off the salute and turned walking towards the box. He opened the door and walked in and the box disappeared as a fog bank moved in. Jack looked down and punched the coordinates into his wristband. It was time, time to go home.