Chapter 29
I feel a breeze as the wooden doors of my atelier swing open. "Zoooe? Just dropped Donna at her gramps for tea. Aren't you getting bored of studying?", the Doctor asks.
I point my feet to the ground and twist the office chair around. I take aim and fire at him.
The ball goes straight to his left heart and draws a big red heart of paint on his jacket. "Oi!", he exclaims, pouting.
"Wait wait wait, just a sec", I tell him, and he stands still as a second ball hits him on the other heart, drawing a big yellow star. "Whoops, hang on", I instruct him, pointing my laser at the machine gun in my hands, then fire again. A big red heart covers the star. "Better".
He looks down at his chest. "...Guess I have my answer", he pouts. "And I really like this suit".
"Oh shut it", I frown, then point the laser at him.
He always stiffens when I do that. It always seems to slip my mind, what the Master did to him using this very same laser screwdriver. He relaxes a little as he sees the paint fade. "There you go".
He checks himself, then pulls on his jacket to straighten it, stepping ahead to reach my desk.
"I told you psychic science was boring as hell. Well, not every hell, some are actually fun. Boring as the average hell. I nearly failed the exam". I raise my eyebrows. He's almost certainly saying that to incourage me.
The books I downloaded from the Library, neatly printed and bound by the Tardis library, lay open on my desk. "I decided to study here instead of in the library because I was too distracted by the swimming pool. Now I'm not so sure it was such a good idea".
He trails his fingers on the covers, reading the titles. "The time Lord Brain and its wonders, Architecture of the mind, psychic patterns and technology, Harry Potter and- Harry Potter?"
"You never know", I shrug.
"Meh", he agrees, tilting his head. "So, what did our little Time Lady genius invent today, apart from a patterned paintball gun?", he asks, searching around.
"Oh! Look at this!", I jump, scrambling around to search for a small tablet device. "It scans your face and modifies your picture with these filters. Look", he draws back as I turn the camera to us and our faces appear in the screen as if we were wearing crowns, then with red faces, then with sparkles coming out of our eyes. "Pretty useless. But still. Could make some money selling it as an app down where I came from. And then I made this!", I show him a piece of fabric. "It's an emotional fabric. When you're hot angry, it melts. Not really an indispensable item, too".
"Then I started working on this... dimensional thing, but I'm missing something, so...". He giggles as I list the experiments I've been running.
I'm engineering because he's right, studying psychic theory sucks. But anyway, I'm trying to keep myself busy, just to delay a long, heartfelt decision: I have to go.
I've been thinking about it for quite some time. Any time now, the Doctor and Donna are going to meet a very much younger version of me, on the run from Torchwood and Chloe. That means current me will be somewhere else. And lately, I've often asked myself why would I ever leave. It's not that the Doctor treats me exactly like his equal, but he's getting there - slowly, and sometimes in a way that looks frustrating to me, but when I think about it calmly I know I can't expect nothing different from someone who was the very last of his kind for a very long time. But everyday, more and more, I feel I like belong to the Tardis, that I've earned my place on the team. I thought I would never have a reason to leave.
Then River called us to the Library, and died sacrificing for us.
And she knows the Doctor's name, and I know what that means.
And I also know now why she always playfully acted jealous with me. He's going to meet River, and have amazing adventures with her, and I'm the other woman. Because I guess, in the end, there was always some truth about me and the Doctor just keeping each other company, not ever having a proper conversation about what's going on between us. It never was a real relationship, and it never will be. And it's not just because two Time Lords being together does sound really dangerous for the universe.
This makes me incredibly sad, because I can't bear the thought of leaving him alone. But I have to, or I will try and fill the gap in my hearts by letting myself fall in love with him, and I have to get that out of the question. And sometimes I see it in his eyes, too. How easy it would be to just let go of his burdens and let his hearts out to me.
Just... I don't think I have anywhere else to go. The universe; time travel; searching for the Master: knowing at some point I leave the Doctor and set out to do that doesn't make it an easier task.
Delaying isn't helping either. For the past few days, I've basically locked myself in the atelier, almost waiting for my past self to appear in the console room, knowing that when she will, it will be my cue to finally get up and leave.
"Oh. And then, I almost finished", I tell him, showing a leather cuff. "All your teleport science lessons brought me... to... this". I say.
"Uh", he says, taking the modified teleport bracelet I've been working on since after the Titanic. He studies it, twisting it in his hands. "Funny".
"What's funny?", I ask. "Anyway, it's done. Programmed and everything. Well it only works as a teleport so far, but it just needs a, ehm, teeny tiny crumble of the Tardis co-".
He frowns at me, then makes a disgusted face, mumbling inaudible words, thinking, then nods, absentmindedly. "Ok", he says, "Ok".
Still holding the device, he jumps up, grabs my hand and pulls me towards the console room "Come with me".
"Ok", he repeats when we're there, pulling levers and configuring our destination. "Allons-y!", he shouts, excited.
"What about Donna? Do we just leave her home?".
"Time machine!", he exclaims. "Won't even notice".
"Where are we going?", I ask, trying to stay on my feet as I spin around the console to check the screens.
"Ha!", he stops me, grabbing my shoulders. "Spoilers".
We land with a slam. The jar with the Doctor's hand rools on the floor. He looks at the screen, mubmling. "Oh, right. Of course I didn't expect to park right in, but... oh well, whatever", he says, then grabs his coat. He throws my jacket in my face while I'm still on the floor, and runs for the doors.
"Come on!".
"Why can't we ever use spaceports as any other spaceship?", I protest as I follow him outside the doors.
It looks like we've landed in a quiet park, some Earth colony mid 51st century. The sky has that weird, overexposed light that Earth colonies always have, what with their artificial atmosphere cleaning technologies. It's much better to breathe for humans, but the colours just don't look the same. I catch up with him, still looking around for clues about where we are. Something at the back of my mind tells me I should be looking out for someone, but it's a feeling I've learned to ignore since I have it everytime we land somewhere new. I assume it's the part of my mind that keeps searching for the Master.
The Doctor drags me across the park, looking around somewhat cautiously. I feel something nagging about the place too, like something is misplaced. Like an alternate timeline, something that is here now and shouldn't.
"This is New new new (he says a number of news that I lose count of) Earth. Astonishing football team, the best apple pie in their millennia, and home of the Time Agency".
"Uh".
"You've heard of it, I assume?".
"Well", I start, as a train of thoughts runs trough my mind. Jack. His timeline. Chloe's timeline. The Doctor's timeline. So many questions I never asked, so many stuff I didn't tell. "When I first met Captain Jack Harkness, he thought I was a Time Agent. And Chloe trained to be one, although I'm not sure she ever became one. Not that I know what the Time Agency is, but I've heard of it, yes. Hey, do you think there's any chance we bump into them?".
"I... I don't really know. They're both from around this time, but Time Agents are secret agents. It's not like they run around wearing a badge or something".
"Like the CIA?".
"No, well, I've worked for the CIA. They're not as sloppy as the Time Agents. Wait, I mean the Celestial Intelligence, not those crazy original Earth Americans".
We exit the park to a busy street, that reminds me of Knightsbridge. Tall, posh buildings, regular drive cars on the street and a few flying carships over our heads in the overground lanes, some loud music coming from their sound systems. The Doctor waits until we've crossed the street to speak again.
"So you think either of them could be here now? When did they start? Were the Time Lords already gone?".
"More or less. Time Lords had a policy of non-interfering with the rest of the Universe".
"What, while you were around? That must have really bothered you", I joke.
"Naah, I was just a Time Tot back then. Besides, I pretty much ignored that rule", he giggles, pulling me out of the way as we try to get past a small crowd gathered on the sidewalk.
"So, back to the subject. What's the point of the Time Agency?".
"The Time Agency... They believe they're replacing the Time Lords. Taking over their role as guardians of the laws of time. Fixing paradoxes, correcting timelines, that sort of stuff. They're... not very good at it, though".
"Do you feel it too? There is something wrong about here".
"Yeeah, but don't worry about it", he shrugs. "Ha! This way!", he adds, pulling my hand.
He drags me into a little old style shop, a bakery that smells fantastic. It's all wood and metal, but it doesn't have the fake boho chic vibe of the 21st century. It looks almost original, and the people queuing are all middle-aged. It's not a fashionable place much as a traditional one.
I look around, and there's a sign that dates the bakery as almost two hundreds years old. I take a few steps around, looking at the old photos hanging on the wall, with their delicate liberty frames. A few people are always repeating in the pictures, it must be a family business.
"You won't believe what happened to me yesterday! A bug! Right in the middle of my living room!", a man says in a funny voice beside me.
"Did they come and fix it right away? A friend of mine said it took them three days to go and lock his car".
"Yeah... They came this morning! Kept me waiting long enough, yes! You heard that damn Ritter is running for Mayor now? You'd think he'd show off by working better!".
"What do you know, politicians!", the other man says, disapprovingly. "They only care about campaigning. And money".
"Eavesdropping, are we?", the Doctor whispers in my ear as I'm drawn to the conversation.
"Sorry. Got distracted. Where's my apple pie?".
"Still baking, I'm afraid. We'll have to wait a while", he shrugs. "I hate waiting", he then smiles. Since Cinderella, I can't help but notice how less frequently he smiles with this face he's wearing, compared to his bow-tie enthusiast version. I sometimes wonder when he'll regenerate, then I push the thought away. It took me so long to find the slow path, I don't really care how long it will take.
I smile back.
And then we both blink vividly, suddenly feeling a time distortion too blatant to ignore.
"Sir, shall I save you two slices?", the lady at the counter asks.
"Sure!", the Doctor says, fast. "We'll be right back".
We exit the shop, tracking the distortion. As we make our way back to the sidewalk, four armed men, in black uniforms, run past us towards the little crowd. "Move, move, move!", they order. We slow down and let them run past us.
"Not very good, you said?", I nudge him. "Well they're not any good at being secret agents, surely", I whisper, glaring. "You said they didn't wear badges".
We both turn to see what the fuss is about. Not only they have badges on their arms, the back of their combat jacket has Time Agency embroidered in bold letters. Not very subtle.
"You were right", the Doctor says, pulling me a step back. "There is something wrong with this place, time-wise. I thought it was something else, but...".
We step closer to the fuss to see what's about. Not that I know if it's any of our business, but if this agency started to replace the Time Lords, well, doesn't that make us the higher authority?
Stop one of your hearts. Don't let them know you're a Time Lady just yet.
I stop, gasping. There's something different about the voice. Like, it's the Doctor's voice. In my mind.
He winks at me.
"Did you just intentionally...?" I look at him, puzzled.
"Yep. Did it work?", he says, wiggling his hand at me.
"Yeah". I state, blinking. I didn't expect this. I take his hand, immediately noticing he has a single heartbeat. It feels weird, but I do the same.
We quickly reach the first row at the do not trespass line two agents are setting on the pavement while the other two are trying to disperse the crowd, although we're not the only curious to stick around. There's a glow of light around the front door that we're looking at at the opposite wall, and the image flickers from a small wooden door to a big stepped marble entrance. It's a simple time space overlap, where one of the two doors shouldn't be here now.
"Nothing to see here, just keep walking. Thank you", a cheeky young voice says from behind our shoulders.
I gasp loudly, because I'd recognize that voice anywhere, even if younger than the last time I've heard it. I slowly glance at the Doctor sideways, without turning my head just yet. He's looking as concerned as I am.
We both turn, and as expected, twenty-something Jack Harkness is standing right behind us. So that's who I was feeling I was supposed to meet.
And of course, he's never seen any of us before. "Hey, I said keep moving, you twigs", he snarls, waving a machine gun.
The Doctor grabs my hand and squeezes it tight.
"Sure, officer, we're going. Look at us go! Bye!", he waves. I wave too. We probably look like idiots. Jack doesn't give us a second look and crosses the line to inspect the time anomaly closer. We obviously take no more than three steps and keep looking. He extracts a tablet and starts running some data.
"Do you think we were sensing that? That door anomaly?", I ask the Doctor, skeptically.
"I don't think so", he says, keeping his voice down. "Maybe we were feeling Jack".
"But he's human. He doesn't have any time peculiarity yet. It's... surprising to see him, but I don't think he's the weirdest fact here. How much of a coincidence is it that we ran into him, though?".
"Well, just one of the two only people we know in the 51st century, and we landed just across the street from him, no less than five minutes after mentioning his name? I'd say it's a big boiling sparkling coincidence".
I look around. "It's not just that, though, right? There's something else going on".
He looks at me puzzled. "What? How do you know? From a bar conversation you heard".
"Look", I tell him. The small crowd has completely scattered around. "No one is watching. And I mean, okay, they have guns, but they're in the middle of the street".
"And no one is bothered".
"Incidents like that must be quite ordinary".
"And they definitely shouldn't", he agrees. "The Time Agency never had agents patroling the streets".
We keep looking as the four officers clear the space to unload a black SUV, marked with the Time Agency logo, that just parked by. "Agent Ray, please inform Ritter that I'm dealing with this", Jack instructs someone inside the car, patting on the roof. I've seen him do the same gesture with his Torchwood team, once.
The SUV leave Jack alone in the area of the anomaly with the equipment and disappear into the ongoing traffic. He opens a studded case and extracts a device that he operates on the shimmering door. It goes zzzzzzzing and swooooooossssssh and it stops. The wooden door is definitely replaced by the big marble entrance.
And, me and the Doctor, it's like we've been slammed in the face. He holds my shoulder as I shake my head, but it lasts an instant. He shakes his head too, breathing heavily.
I tap his chest to hold him back - I know he's going to go and tell him that's not how you deal with a time overlap; I know, because I kinda want to go and tell him myself - and keep watching until the SUV drives away. Jack puts the device back, looks suspiciously around and starts typing something in his vortex manipulator. He keeps looking around as he talks into it, like he's recording a message. He suddenly looks around and turns abruptly while someone taller than him, in a long coat and chuck taylors, starts yelling at him.
Gee, a girl can't even get distracted for a second with the Doctor.
I roll my eyes and run up to them as the Doctor is still yelling. "What do you think you're doing, with that zing swoosh thing? Is this how you're thought to fix temporal anomalies at the Time Agency these days? Don't you know if you don't fix the damage permanently the timeline will keep leaking?", he's hissing. It's his version of screaming without drawing too much attention.
Jack is so different, seen up close. He's in his twenties, his ice blue eyes are so young and sparkling. They have an urge. For a second, he looks almost scared of the Doctor, which surprises me. I didn't see them together enough, but Jack always stroke me as someone who isn't afraid of anyone, not even the Doctor. In fact, his eyes almost immediately turn anxious, hopeful, and he hisses back.
"Lower your voice, do you want the whole agency to hear you?".
The Doctor isn't impressed. "Listen, I know what I'm talking about! The damage you're doing is-".
"You think I don't know that?", he interrupts him.
"He's right, though", I cut in. "Your patch is not holding", I tell them, pointing at the wall. The door looks stable, but the whole wall is now shimmering.
"Shit", Jack says, pulling out his tablet.
"Let the adults deal with it, mate", the Doctor says, snatching the device from his hand. He types quickly under Jack's astonished gaze. "Zoe, screwdriver", he calls, and I pick up the data from the tablet to point it at the anomaly-filled wall.
"Done", I tell him as the extra energy from the time overlap is dispersed into the Time Vortex by the Tardis via her connection to the screwdriver. The Doctor's calculations of the frequency are perfect.
"Amazing", Jack whispers, surprised, touching the wall to check it's really solid.
"He's right. We're professionals", I say, pretending not to notice the annoyed look the Doctor gives me everytime I make a tiny tiny attempt to be smug. Like he does all the time, by the way.
Jack smiles. "They said they would send help, but I wasn't expecting... Time Lords", he says. The look on the Doctor's face is as troubled as mine: distracted by Jack's young age, we both forgot how smart he is. But his smile fades before we can even attempt a reply. "Get out of here, they're coming back", he says, pulling his gun out to add credibility to his
warning.
We both throw our hands up and turn, shrugging, walking away. We keep walking until the patrol comes back, again running past us, then the Doctor pulls my hand and pushes me back into the bakery.
The traditional glass door closes with a bell ring at our back. "Ah", the Doctor says. "Apple pie. Best in the galaxy".
We sit down at a window table while an old waiter wearing an apron comes to serve us tea.
I relax my shoulder into the wooden chair. "Well, that was weird".
"Yeah", the Doctor says, looking at the street outside the window. "We underestimated him", he adds. "Jack is smart. There must be a reason for him to be doing this kind of low level jobs for the agency".
I sigh. "When I first met him, he was a con man. Maybe he's not the good person we know yet".
The Doctor opens his mouth, but no words come out. In the back of my mind, I feel the noise of the million questions he's not asking. Do you think he's a good person? When did you meet him first? Do you fancy him, now that he's not wrong yet? Why does he think somebody sent us as help? Help with what?
I try to ignore him and pull out my laser screwdriver. I run some testings and it doesn't look well. "Do yours read the same?".
"Yeah", he nods, clicking his screwdriver. "This place is all patched up like a very old inflatable balloon".
"But there's no converging. The time anomalies seem to be all in this area, but there's no pattern. It looks casual".
"No way to determine its origin point. The original event".
All the theories I've been studying, all the boring Time Lord books I've been reading agree on the same point: time travel always creates paradoxes, although some much bigger and more dangerous than others. Time Lords and their technology, most of the time (say, when you're not trying to invade a past civilization with a civilization that you create in the future that only exists within the paradox itself) allows for the paradoxes to be absorbed and held in place by the Time Vortex, but when you don't have Time Lords or Time Lord technology to spare (or a Time Lord to hold such aforementioned big paradox in place), if you're human and, well, just lousy at handling paradoxes, the timelines just go wild.
I look around. The lady at the counter smiles at us. This place looks so quiet, unfazed, but I'm surprised this planet hasn't already imploded on itself. But of course nobody notices it, except for us and the Time Agency itself.
"Why did you bring me here, Doctor?", I ask, playing with my fork around the slice of pie the waiter just placed in front of me. "Any chance we're the original anomaly here?",
"Oh, right!", he chirps, as if only just now remembering it was his own idea to come here in the first place. But then he sombers again, looking straight into my eyes, and waits to answer. "Oh, well, I'm not so sure anymore".
A little unsettled, we both eat our pies, and it's sad, because it's reeeeally good, and none of us is enjoying it.
The mood is so low that the Doctor uses his credits to pay, instead of coming up with something with the psychic paper. Usually, that we're journalist writing reviews.
"Allons-y", he says, dragging me out to the street.
We climb the marble stairs of a small, almost anonymous building. We push the glass doors and we're in a large hall. It looks like some sort of museum.
The Doctor goes straight for the reception desk, instead of flashing the psychic paper around to make our way as he usually does. "Hello there", he says to the bored-looking receptionist. "Two, both concession, please", he asks, flashing the small credit chip again.
"Names?" the girl asks, pulling out a tablet.
"Oh I'm Brigadier Alistair Ledbridge-Stewart, and my daughter, Kate", he smiles.
I glare at him. He keeps forgetting he doesn't look old enough to pass as my father. His smile tells me he either doesn't have a clue, or he doesn't really care.
The girl raises her eyebrows, skeptical. "Whatever suits you, fella", she says, then types something on her tablet. She then extracts a chip gun and stamps us both on the wrists.
We walk to the small line gathered at the body scanners at the entrance, and he grabs my hand again to remind me about stopping one heart.
"Right then!", he pulls at his coat, looking around. "This way".
He drags me around through the exhibition rooms, and I barely register what I'm seeing, which is a collection of artifacts I can't quite understand as a group, until we get to a small room at the end of a hall.
A sign on the wall says Travel technology. I read closer, and there's a brief description of some experiments on travel devices and their datation. At the corner of the sign there's a small logo of the Time Agency.
Once most of the visitors have left the room and there's just another small group of people looking at the exhibition, the Doctor gently ushers me to the center of the room, to a glass-shielded column that hosts a rudimental vortex manipulator, much in the shape of the one I built, and that the Doctor just pulled out of his pocket.
Wait a sec.
It looks a lot like my vortex manipulator.
"Is it...?", I ask. And I'm not really asking, because I already know.
He shoves the device near the glass column, comparing the two objects. "Look at that. Same markings, same small dents from when you couldn't properly solder things together neatly, same wavelenght", he says, waving the sonic between the two. "You invented the vortex manipulator, Zoe".
I giggle.
"Sssh!", the museum guard warns us.
I shiver a little, then lower my voice. "How-", I start, but the Doctor places the device in my hands, searching for something else in his pockets. He holds his fist closed, the sonic screwdriver in the other hand. I look up at him. He shakes his head, then twists the metal cuff to expose the hardware case and sonics it open. He takes a deep breath, holding my hand still, gently, then open his other hand.
He's holding a shining speck. "Teeny tiny", he repeats. "Just what it needs".
He closes the hardware case and puts away the screwdriver. We stay like that a second, his hands holding mine. I look up at him again, noticing a hint of a smile. I look at the artifact in the glass column again.
I drop my hands, still holding the vortex manipulator.
"I invented the vortex manipulator?". I can't believe this, even if I'm fully aware it's true.
"Weeell", he shrugs. "Looks very much like you did".
"Me?", I ask, bewildered. I'm suddenly scared and excited at the same time. Like I know I shouldn't have, and somehow it makes sense that I did.
"Yeeah", he repeats. "First prototype. Not that I approve, just for the record".
"Silence, please!", the guard warns again, taking a step towards us.
I shrug, annoyed. "But-".
"No, really. Aaaand, I still believe you don't need it", the Doctor whispers. "Quite right, too".
"Because it ends up there", I point at the device in the glass case.
"Question is", he says seriously, closing my hands on the device and inviting me to put it back in my pocket, "How did it end up there?".
"Ahem", the guard's voice is suddenly very near.
"What!", the Doctor and I say, in unison, still looking at each other before turning around.
"Well how did you two end up here in the first place?", the guard asks, snarling.
The tone isn't just what you'd expect from a regular museum guard watching out for people not to smash objects and being noisy. He sounds like a police officer.
Or, more specifically, like a Time Agent.
In fact, when we both turn our heads to look at him, he's surrounded by other agents in civilian clothes, and they're all pointing their blasters at us.
Maybe they're sloppy, but sure they're trained to recognize Time Lords.
Sooo... trouble ahead. Posting this even if it's not polished so as to have an excuse to not leave you all hanging. And I do have a few ideas of how this is going to turn out, but who knows? ^_^