TURLOUGH'S TALE

Chapter Twenty-Four

Alexandra decides to stay with us until the Doctor is quite himself again. She goes outside to bring in the sled and Verna pushes past her, disappearing into the whiteness. The boy stays with us for the week we enjoy Alexandra's company, and as soon as he realizes he is under our protection, he takes as much interest in the Doctor's progress as in his own. He never does tell us his name.

At the end of the week, the Doctor's bruises have gone from red to purple to violet, then an interesting shade of green; they're dark yellow now and as his hair is also yellow and he is back in his usual clothes, they barely show. "Time Lord physiology," he explains, which of course explains nothing. "Alexandra, it has been such a pleasure getting to know you!"

"Likewise, Doctor," replies Alexandra, "and thanks for all the goodies." We have loaded her sled with food, blankets and more. We don't need to wonder how she will haul it all home, as the boy has accepted her invitation to go with her. They'll take care of each other.

"I'm sorry for what I did." The boy doesn't reach out to shake the Doctor's hand, but the Doctor wraps his arms around him, then enfolds Alexandra. Tegan hugs them both too. I pat the boy on the head and extend my hand to Alexandra. She ignores that and embraces me. She and the boy turn to go, and then she turns back.

"I almost forgot!" She had given the Irish harp to Tegan for safekeeping while the Doctor was recuperating, and she asks her for it now. Tegan brings it out and hands it to Alexandra, who presents it to the Doctor. "I don't need it. I can't play it. It was Patty's. I think she would want you to have it."

The Doctor accepts the gift gravely. "I shall learn to play it and I shall think of you every time I do." He kisses her lightly on the cheek and turns away so he won't have to see her and the boy depart.

Tegan sighs. "Funny, I think I'm going to miss her. I won't miss the snow, though. I don't care if I ever see snow again."

"I feel the same," I tell her. Then, to the Doctor, I ask, "Where to, now? Someplace warm, right?"

"That sounds about right," smiles the Doctor, operating his usual sequences at the console. The rotor begins to pump away.

"How about a game of chess?" I offer Tegan. She seems surprised but accepts my little challenge. I drag a little table and some chairs from a nearby store room, not dusty at all as we keep things there we frequently use; I set up the board and Tegan and I sit down to play. "Black or white?" I ask her. She shrugs. I pick up an unstained boxwood pawn and another of ebonized boxwood and shuffle them from hand to hand behind my back. When I present my fists to Tegan she chooses my right hand: black. She sighs and we begin to play. I am rather good at chess and usually prefer to play against the Doctor, but sometimes I'd rather have an easier time of it, and besides, it ingratiates me to still-suspicious Tegan.

We haven't played long when the room becomes almost imperceptibly darker. The Doctor fidgets with the console and the room continues to darken. He flops down under it and checks whatever it is down there ("for leaks," he says), and Tegan goes off to get a torch so he can see what he's doing. She holds it while he inspects, and I take that opportunity to put her king in check. I am winning, white against black, but in this set, on this board, white isn't white and black isn't black (they're pale reddish yellow and rich dark brown, respectively) so I am not reminded of anything or anyone I should perhaps have on my mind… but the console room is getting darker and darker….

THE END