Antonia Perkins poked her head out of the TARDIS doors. Stepping out onto the the shingle, she pulled her coat tighter around her, shivering in the cold night.
“Are you coming, Doctor?” she called.
“Just performing some basic environment checks” replied the Doctor, tapping at buttons on the ship’s console.
“Right, environment checks,” said Antonia. “It’s nice out, if a bit on the chilly side.”
The tapping stopped, and a few seconds later, the Doctor emerged in a flurry of eyebrows and increasingly alarming hair. “Was that sarcasm, Antonia Perkins?”
Antonia grinned. “A little, maybe. It’s just that, well, environment checks aren’t normally your style. You usually say you want to step out into wherever we arrive knowing as little as possible, because the greatest joy of travelling the universe is discovery, of everything we find being as new and surprising as possible. That’s usually followed by giant carnivorous moths trying to eat us.”
Gleefully remembering their previous adventure, the Doctor smiled in a way he believed was instantly winning and charming, but most people found somewhat unsettling. “I do like almost getting eaten, it’s true,” he said with relish. “But something felt… off when we landed here. I felt some caution may have been in order.”
“Oh, sorry. Shall we go back a moment while you finish your checks?”
The Doctor stood silent for a moment, seemingly in thought. “No,” he said. “You were onto something – sometimes the best way to perform environment checks is through your own observation. Explain what you see, hear, smell and feel, Antonia Perkins.”
“Okay, um… this is an ordinary pebble beach, we could almost be back in Brighton, except this definitely isn’t Earth.”
“Why not?”
“Well…” Antonia gestured to their left, towards the cliff face in the distance. It was shaped like any cliff face Antonia had seen before, jagged in places and sloping in others, but it was formed not of chalk, limestone, or peat, but of pure glass. And reflected in the glass –
“Two moons,” said Antonia. “I’m not an expert on the future of Earth, but I doubt it would be good for the planet’s gravity and tides if it gained a second moon.”
“Probably true,” said the Doctor, “Although it might just mean the previous moon had twins.”
“Wait, what?”
“The moon’s an egg.”
“Seriously, what?”
“But you’re right, this definitely isn’t Earth,” said the Doctor. “The stars suggest we’re a few hundred light years away from your home. We’re a long way from anywhere in this corner of the universe: this is, by all indications, a mostly harmless planet in the middle of nowhere. So what is it about this place that feels so… wrong?”
“It might be those lights.”
Antonia pointed towards the ocean, which was flat and still as a pond. A few hundred metres out from the shore, six lights hung just above the water, each at regular intervals of about ten metres apart, giving off an eerie emerald glow, with a pool of shimmering green light reflected in the otherwise black-as-night water surrounding them.
At that moment, the stillness of the night was broken by a howling, whirling wind, shaking the pebbles around Antonia’s feet as a crackling static noise built up, louder and louder. She turned towards the source of the sound to see a thick black fog enveloping the TARDIS, and the Doctor racing towards it.
“Doctor, no!” she yelled, but it was too late. The Doctor grabbed the handle of the TARDIS door, but screamed in pain as the fog twisted around his arm and passed through his chest in one sickening motion that sent him flying backwards. As the Doctor fell onto the shingle with a crunch of the pebbles, Antonia heard a sickly version of the familiar wheezing, groaning sound, the ship sputtering as if in pain. She watched in horror as the fog faded, leaving the space previously filled by the Doctor’s ship, her only way home, quite empty.
A PAINTED OCEAN Written by ANDREW DAVIS
“Doctor!” she yelled, and raced over to her best friend, sprawled out on the beach. She instantly noted his shallow breathing, and pressing her ear to his chest, sighed with relief at the sound of both his hearts beating steadily. Lifting her head, she saw his breaths were already steadier, more regular. All she could do now was wait. So she knelt in the pebbles, and she waited.
After a couple of minutes had passed, the Doctor came to, in a fit of coughing. “An-Antonia?”
Flooded with emotion, Antonia said the words she always said when the Doctor stupidly risked his life, and miraculously managed to survive.
“You stupid bloody idiot! What did you go and do that for?”
Now sat up, the Doctor just looked at her. “Antonia, you know why.”
She did. The Doctor had lived a long life, and had loved and lost too many friends to count. Throughout that time, the TARDIS had been the one constant in his life. He wouldn’t part with it easily.
“I’m sorry, Doctor. I know how much the TARDIS means to you. We’ll get her back, I promise.”
“It’s not just that, Antonia. When I invited you to come and see the universe with me, I took on a duty of care for you, and-”
“Duty of-” Antonia began to protest, only to notice the confused look on the Doctor’s face. Like he knew the narrative those words came from, but none of the story.
It was a Clara thing. She had to approach this with tact.
“What do you mean, duty of care?”
“When I offered you all of time and space, I took on a responsibility for you. The responsibility to keep you safe, to make sure you can get home. Without the TARDIS, I can’t get you home.”
For a moment, Antonia imagined herself trapped, with no way back to home, to Brighton, with Hannah and her mother. Trapped on the other side of the universe, and displaced in time. She would try everything she could to get home, until she realised it wasn’t possible. Maybe then she’d try to start a new life in a strange new world, the faces and voices of her friends and family fading in her mind as her face and voice faded in theirs, as they gave her up as lost, even dead, and grieved her as she lived.
No. She couldn’t think that way. That way lay madness. Antonia sighed. Yes, this was a Clara thing, and yes, the Doctor had lost a lot of friends before her, but she was not in the mood for his paternalism.
“Okay Doctor, I understand, but please don’t treat me like a child. I chose to come with you of my own free will: I’m an adult, and I can do that. And if you’d gotten yourself killed, how would I have gotten home then? I’d have been stranded on an alien planet with no way home, and no friend to help me. What good’s your duty of care then?”
The Doctor’s face was pained. “Antonia, you have to understand-”
“No Doctor, you have to understand. If there’s something here that can steal the TARDIS the moment we arrive, then that means it’s incredibly powerful, and probably wants to hurt people. And if that is the case,” Antonia pointed behind them, to the town behind the beach, “Then we need to help whoever lives here.”
Finally, the Doctor bowed his head, accepting her point. “You’re absolutely right about whoever stole the TARDIS. And if they are ill-intentioned, then we need to stop them. The TARDIS getting stolen? That’s just an extra challenge. I’ll look even more brilliant when I save the day without it.”
The only sounds in the town were Antonia and the Doctor’s footsteps clattering against the stone street, which sloped upwards between shops selling trinkets Antonia didn’t recognise, and houses that showed no sign of life within. It was faintly lit by the blue light of a single lamp, illuminating a sign that read “Avenassa town centre”.
“What happened here?” asked Antonia. “Is there anyone living here anymore?”
In response to her question, The Doctor pointed to the base of a doorway to one of the houses. A collection of wreaths of flowers lay propped against it.
“Have a look at this,” said the Doctor, indicating the wreath closest to them. Antonia crouched next to it, brushing a petal between her thumb and forefinger. It was a monotone grey, but quite fresh.
“It was put out no more than a day ago,” said the Doctor. “I think there are definitely people living here, but I think they’re very scared, and they’re being very quiet. They’re hiding from something, something they know is coming for them. Count the wreaths.”
Antonia counted. “There are six of them.”
The Doctor nodded. “Six wreaths. The same as the number of lights out on the sea.”
A deep pulsing sound reverberated through the air, a vibration Antonia felt in the pit of her stomach, and she turned to the sea, where there was a flash on the horizon, the same colour as the lights the Doctor had just mentioned.
“Doctor?” said Antonia.
“Yes?”
“You said that the people in this town were hiding.”
“I did.”
“Should we do the same?”
“I rather think we should.”
They raced down the street, heavy breaths billowing out in clouds of condensation that swirled and spiralled around them. Antonia couldn’t help wondering how the Doctor moved so quickly when he ran with so little evidence of coordination between his arms and legs.
Turning back, she saw the green light moving towards them even faster. It sliced through the ocean, the water on the surface parting in a v-shape. As it raced towards the shoreline, becoming larger in perspective and more distinct in movement, Antonia was able to make out the shape of the light. It was humanoid, with arms and legs, but they appeared to move almost in slow motion, at odds with the pace of its movement. They seemed to leave a slight motion blur, like on an old VCR recording.
They continued running, turning down a side street filled with market stalls.
“Behind here, quickly!” hissed the Doctor, indicating one of them. Crouching behind it, they huddled together, hardly daring to breathe.
The stall seemed to sell fruits, but those that lay in the baskets looked past their best: discoloured and slightly too soft, as if the owner hadn’t had the chance to get new stock for several days. There was a complete hush throughout the street, not even a breath of wind. Antonia could see the reflections of other stalls in the windows of the house in front of them. Ghostly duplicates of jewellery and carved children’s toys filled separate panes, each item slightly misshapen due to the windows’ imperfect reflection.
The creature was close now. There was no sound of footsteps, but its green glow could be seen at the end of the street, and as it moved closer, Antonia and the Doctor could make out an unsettling hum that filled the air around the town, getting louder and louder, reverberating off of the walls of the houses and the cobblestone of the streets. The things sold at the stalls seemed to shake, just slightly: the toys and the jewellery, the pots and the pans, the fruits at the stall Antonia and the Doctor hid behind.
The glow was getting closer and closer, and with her back to the stall, Antonia brought her knees to her chest to make herself as small as possible. A loud thumping began in her chest, quickly moving up to her eardrums as her heart raced at what felt like a thousand beats a minute; she felt a prickling, creeping sensation on the back of her neck, and her hands were shaking, not because of the cold. She let out a silent sigh of relief as the creature moved past them, that unnerving blur continuing to follow its slow-motion movements.
At that moment, the door to the house nearest them opened ever so slightly. “ In here you fools, now!” said the short, plump, man inside.
The Doctor and Antonia didn’t need telling twice, racing in and stepping through the threshold. But as the man closed and locked the door, Antonia watched the creature spin around at the far end of the street to face towards them once more. Only it didn’t spin around: one moment it was facing away from them, and then it seemed to freeze as if it were on a buffering screen, before it was suddenly facing them.
“I think it saw us,” she said.
As they backed into a room filled with tools and metals, The Doctor turned towards the man, all eyebrows and intensity. “Tell us what’s going on,” he said. “We can help. The creature, does it have a name?”
The man just frowned, and his brows furrowed, as if he was torn between a desire to answer the Doctor’s questions, and some deep rooted, inexplicable emotion.
“Come on, you can do it,” said the Doctor. “I’ve lived a long life and seen a lot of things. I know the names of more species than you ever knew existed. If you tell me what it is, I might be able to remember its weakness.”
The man stayed silent. Antonia noted the way his eyes twitched, and his hands shook, and she understood why he was so unwilling to answer the Doctor’s questions.
“He’s afraid,” she said.
The Doctor let out a knowing sigh. “Afraid to name that which you fear the most,” he said to the man. “An understandable, near-universal impulse. There’s that little, irrational, part of you that takes over and tells you ‘if I don’t talk about it, then my world isn’t falling apart. If I pretend they aren’t there, my monsters aren’t real’. Well, your monsters are real, my friend. So name them. Take away their power over you.”
The man still hesitated. Nice speech, Antonia thought. But I think we need the human touch here. “Let’s do our names first,” she said. “I’m Antonia, and this is the Doctor. Who are you?”
For the first time since he’d let them in, the man spoke. “Jarval,” he said. “My name’s Jarval.”
Antonia smiled. “Nice to meet you, Jarval. Do you think you can answer the Doctor’s question now?”
Finally, Jarval started to answer. “It- it’s called-”
There was the click of a lock turning, and the creak of a door opening. The unsettling humming of the creature got louder and louder, and it was suddenly in the room with them, mere feet away. It had no face, no features that could be made out on its body beyond the vague sense of hands and feet at the end of its arms and legs. It was reaching for Antonia, and was centimeters from her, when Jarval threw himself in front of it.
“NO!” he yelled at the creature. “I won’t be afraid of you any more!”
He grabbed at the creature, taking its hand with his own. The moment he did so, the same black fog that had enveloped the TARDIS began to surround Jarval and the creature. Jarval screamed a terrible piercing scream, making Antonia cover her ears with her hands.
Metals and tools clattered to the floor. Jarval’s scream turned to silence: he and the creature had gone.
As the Doctor and Antonia stepped outside, they saw lights turning on in the houses. People started to walk out of the doors, slowly, in procession. A tall, dark skinned woman led the procession, carrying another of the grey flowered wreaths in her hands.
“I know how this looks,” said the Doctor, “But we can explain-”
The woman just walked right past him without saying a word, and knelt down, laying the wreath at the foot of Jarval’s open door.
“I don’t want to jinx this,” whispered Antonia, as she and the Doctor backed a few feet away from the locals, so that they were less the centre of attention and more out of earshot. “But why aren’t we being arrested? This sort of situation usually leads to misunderstandings and us being arrested.”
The woman took a step back, and the other dozen people in the procession started to form a semi-circle. They were efficient and swift in this formation: it was practised, carefully calibrated, like clockwork.
“Because these people know who took Jarval, and they know it wasn’t us” said the Doctor.
The townspeople started to sing a slow, mournful song.
The lyrics didn’t all make sense to Antonia, but the themes were ones she recognised: they appealed to a higher power, asking that it help the helpless in their desperate hour of need. “It’s a prayer,” said Antonia. “The song’s a prayer to their god.”
As the choir sang their prayer, the Doctor and Antonia looked out to the horizon. A seventh green light had joined the six that they had seen out on the ocean when they’d first arrived.
“You see, that’s what’s going on here,” said the Doctor. “It’s the same instinct that made Jarval refuse to name the creature. There are seven lights out at the sea: this has been happening for seven nights now. How do we know this is a nightly occurrence? Because people started leaving their houses the moment they heard Jarval scream, and knew he’d been taken. They know they’ll be safe for some time now. If they didn’t, they’d still be hiding. So night one, someone was stolen from their home: the town reels in shock. Night two: it happens again. They know this is an ongoing attack. Night three, people start laying out wreaths: the attacks become part of the routine.”
The Doctor spoke with disgust in his voice. “That’s the thing about humanity: you’ll accept any horror, any injustice, as long as you find a way to make it part of the routine.” The choir finished their song of prayer. All was silent, and still.
“And do you know what I hate?” asked the Doctor.
“What?” asked Antonia, knowing from the look in the Doctor’s eyes that the answer would not be good.
“Following a routine!”
He pointed the sonic screwdriver towards the market stall nearest to them, and activated it.
The market stall was made of wooden planks, and the sonic screwdriver didn’t work on wood. But it did work on the metal screws holding the wooden planks together. The planks crashed to the floor, while the pots, pans, and kitchen implements the stall sold all did the same, spinning wildly on the ground.
The woman who had taken charge of the ceremony stormed towards them, her face like thunder.
“That was someone’s property!” she yelled.
“Much better!” said the Doctor. “Now you’re angry. Now you’re reacting. And you’re right, it was someone’s property. It was a very specific someone’s property.”
He pointed at the pans cluttered amongst the broken down planks of wood. “They were made with the same metal we saw in Jarval’s house. They were shaped by the same tools. This is his stall.”
“How dare you-”
“No,” said the Doctor, “how dare you! A kind and brave man just got stolen away by an unspoken terror, and you just sat there and accepted it. I broke a market stall, and now you’re getting angry. Do you think you could direct that anger at the creature that stole him?”
There it was again. The same fear in the woman’s eyes Antonia had seen in Jarval’s: the fear of a horror she dared not name.
“Come back to me,” said the Doctor, “when you start to value people more than things.”
The woman glared at him, before turning and heading back to her house. The rest of the townspeople followed suit.
“I get it, Doctor, you’re making a point. But can’t you show Jarval some respect, instead of trashing his things?” asked Antonia. He’d let them into his house to try and help them, even though he’d been so afraid.
The Doctor gestured towards the wreath, and the spot where, moments earlier, the group had been singing their prayer. “I think they have that covered, don’t you? Besides, what harm can wrecking his stall do? He won’t be needing it anymore.”
“You can’t say that, Doctor,” said Antonia quietly. She could see Jarval throwing himself in front of the creature to protect her. “We can’t give him up for dead.” If it was at all possible, she owed it to Jarval to do whatever she could to save him, after he’d sacrificed himself to save her.
“I’m not saying he’s dead,” said the Doctor. “But as long as his town does nothing to help him beyond laying down a wreath and singing a sad song, he really won’t be needing that stall anymore.”
Antonia paused, before eventually accepting his statement. “So what’s the plan?”
“Oh, I should think we’ll be engaging in a bit of good old fashioned snooping around and questioning the locals.”
“Okay,” said Antonia. “But remember: I’m good cop, and you’re bad cop.”
The Doctor briefly looked offended, saying “why should I-”, before pausing, and nodding. “Right, yes. The eyebrows.”
As they walked past Jarval’s disassembled market stall, Antonia said “You didn’t just wreck that to make a point, did you? There's more going on with that.”
The Doctor waved a hand airily. “No, it really was just a bit of wanton destruction. Don’t worry about it, I’m sure it won’t come up again later.”
Dawn was now breaking, casting an orange light over the town, although the crisp winter chill stopped the sunlight bringing any warmth. The green lights (now seven, not six) were less distinct now they were mixed with the sun's rays, but they still stood out on the horizon, a grim reminder of the previous night's events.
Even at this early hour, people were emerging from their houses, setting up their shops and market stalls. This perfectly ordinary routine felt stiff, rehearsed: the shopkeepers kept casting nervous glances over their shoulders and dropping stock in fumbling hands. The town was desperately in need of a fresh breath of life and hope, but as the Doctor had observed, its inhabitants were visibly insistent on maintaining some semblance of normalcy.
They came to a fork in the road. Antonia gestured to the right fork. “I’ll take this half of the town if you take the other half?”
The Doctor nodded. “Yes, boss.”
“Oh, and Doctor?” said Antonia.
“Yes?”
“Remember - don’t try to be charming. It never ends well.”
“Me? Charm? I’m against charm on principle, you know that.”
He’s going to try and be charming, isn’t he?thought Antonia, as she watched him leave.
The first person Antonia saw was a brown haired, broad shouldered girl who towered over her. Antonia’s first thought was prettyprettypretty, followed by Antonia, this is not the time, followed by, how does one perform a flirt, anyway? followed by crippling self doubt. As she finally managed to focus, she realised she was walking headfirst into her new crush, and the two of them tumbled to the ground. Instantly springing back in embarrassment, face flushing red, Antonia burst into a round of apologies.
“Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going, I-”
“No, no, it’s not a problem at all, I should have-”
Oh no, she’s awkward, too, that makes it worse.
Tentatively standing, Antonia stood up, and offering a hand, helped the girl stand too.
“I’m Antonia,” she said.
“Karliah,” replied the girl.
“Good to meet you, Karliah”, said Antonia, and they shook hands, once, twice, oh god we need to stop shaking hands now, before letting go and bursting out laughing. “So, um, my friend and I, we just got here,” said Antonia.
“You were at the ceremony - he broke Jarval’s stall.”
“He likes to make an impression,” said Antonia apologetically.
“You both make an impression,” smiled Karliah.
Is she performing a flirt? Oh no, what are the protocols for this? Brain, anything? No? Didn’t think so.
Antonia decided that now was a time to get back on task, and decided the best way to go was to be a little vulnerable.
“Okay, I need your help,” she said. “The Doctor and I arrived here a couple of hours ago, but the ship we arrived in was taken straight away, we’re assuming by the creature that took Jarval. We need to know what’s going on, is there anything you can tell me?”
Karliah’s expression darkened. “That’s how it started for the town.”
The Doctor had found his first interviewee. “You there, old man!”
His subject looked at him in confusion. “I’m seven.”
“And you’re in remarkably good cheer in spite of that, well done. You’ve aged gracefully. Tell me, what’s your name?”
“Taran. Who are you?”
The Doctor squatted down to Taran’s height. “I’m the Doctor, and I’m here to help make your town better. Can you tell me what’s been going on this past week?”
“About a week ago,” began Karliah. “The first person was taken. Josiah. Kind, strong, worked at the temple. Dedicated his life to helping others. When Asral realised he was late for morning prayer, he went to his house to find him, and found the house was empty.”
“We looked everywhere for Josiah,” said Taran, “but we couldn’t find him. And then, in evening, it started.”
“The town was surrounded by a thick black fog,” Karliah continued. “You couldn’t see a thing. And then the fog split apart, surrounding all our forms of transport: boats for the sea, wagons for the road. Once the fog had vanished, so had the boats and wagons. We tried contacting the nearest towns, but all our lines of communication had been cut off. We were alone.”
“So no one tried to walk out of town?” quizzed the Doctor. “Couldn’t you leave on your own two feet?”
“Some people tried,” protested Taran. “They were scared. But the black fog took them when the reached the edge of town, and sent them straight back to their homes. And I don’t want to leave Avenassa. It’s my home.”
“The second night, there was a terrible scream from Erren’s house. He ran the bakery. After him, we lost Aola, Sigi, and Kanor. Every night, we’d hear the scream, head to their house, and they’d be gone. And now Jarval’s gone, too.” Shaking, Karliah put her head in her hands. “The town’s a ghost of what it was, and this has happened to us in a week. I-I’m always afraid. I hate always being afraid.”
Antonia put her hand on Karliah’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’m never sure how to say this, but… Mum always knows when I need a hug. You look like you need one now.”
“A hug would be nice,” said Karliah.
The taller woman folded her arms around Antonia, and her shaking eased off slightly. Antonia didn’t feel the need to jump back from her, now.
“We can help,” said Antonia. “The Doctor and I. But we need to understand what’s going on, and people aren’t talking, not properly. Is there anywhere we can go, anywhere at all, where we can find out more about what's happening?”
At that moment, an angry shout echoed across the street. “Karliah!”
They broke apart, abashed. The woman who’d led the ceremony earlier was walking towards them. She rounded on Antonia.
“What are you doing with my daughter?”
The Doctor stood in silence, contemplating Taran's tale. “There's still one thing that doesn't quite make sense about your story. I'm not quite sure what it is, bit it's nagging at me, that little voice in my head that tells me there's a question that needs answering. I just need to figure out what the question is.”
Taran responded with a question of his own. “What is it?”
The Doctor furrowed his brow. “I'm not sure,” he said. “But I think I have to go back to where this all began to find it. You said the first person taken worked at the temple?”
Red faced but defiant, Antonia looked Karliah's mother in the eye. “Your daughter's upset,” she said. “I was comforting her.”
“Really?” the older woman said pointedly. “You were comforting her, were you?”
Antonia bristled at that. Yes, she liked Karliah, but she would never take advantage of someone's vulnerability. “Yes, I was,” she said. “Although as it happens, I'm quite upset, too. Less than two hours ago a man was abducted right in front of my eyes, and it should have been me, not him. So I feel responsible, because that's how my stupid brain works. And I want to help save him, if I can. Because I owe it to him.”
“Really? You want to help? By breaking market stalls and disrespecting our customs?”
Antonia took a deep breath, and held out her hands in an apologetic gesture. “I'm sorry about the Doctor,” she said. “He likes to make a point in the most theatrical way possible. But he can help. It's what we do: travel round helping people who need it. Let’s start again. I’m Antonia, who are you?”
“I’m Sarael, head of this town. And you're wasting your time here. We don't need your help.”
“How don't you need help?” asked Antonia, disbelieving. “People are disappearing every night.”
“I have faith. Faith that the Guardian will protect us. I fear for my town, of course I do, but I must be a leader. So I place my faith in the Guardian, and so does my town. If our faith is strong enough, the Guardian will save us.”
Great, I'm dealing with religious zealotry, thought Antonia. Her own mother had a faith of sorts, but it wasn’t like this: it was the kind of faith that gave her personal comfort, and encouraged her to do good in the world. Even though Antonia had never had any faith of her own, she could respect her mother’s. But this belief was blind, unquestioning, the kind that caused people on Earth to hate her just for being her, for being Antonia. At least this religion didn’t seem to go in for transphobia.
“Come, Karliah, we're leaving,” said Sarael, who turned and started to walk away.
Before she joined Sarael, Karliah looked at Antonia, and Antonia saw the uncertainty in her eyes.
That's the thing with blind faith, thought Antonia. It easily turns to doubt.
Quickly, Karliah spoke, in a small act of defiance of her mother. “Go to the temple,” she said. “You'll find out what you need to know there.”
The street leading to the temple was uneven, and surrounded with vegetation. Antonia found the Doctor crouched next to a bush, talking to a cat.
“Hmm, yes, I see,” he said, tickling the cat under the chin. “Well, thank you for your help.” He stood up, and turned to Antonia. “Just asking this cat if it had any useful information.”
“Are cats generally a good source of information?” asked Antonia.
“Absolutely,” insisted the Doctor. “They can get to all sorts of places most people don’t, often catch key details of villains’ evil plans.”
“You just wanted an excuse to pet it, didn’t you?”
“On this occasion, yes,” he admitted.
Antonia indicated the temple. “I take it questioning the locals led you here, too?”
“It did.”
As they walked down the path, Antonia said what had been nagging at her since she’d spoken to Karliah. “Doctor? I don’t know about you, but there’s something about the story I was told about the last week that didn’t quite make sense to me.”
“Exactly the same. I can’t quite place what it is, though.”
“I was told that every night, they heard a scream when someone disappeared, like when the creature took Jarval. At least, every night except the first night. They didn’t know he’d been taken until they found his house empty the next morning. Why the difference between the first abductee and the other six?”
“That’s it.”
“I don’t know what it means, though.”
“Me neither,” said the Doctor. “But hold onto that thought. We’re here.”
The temple was a tall, imposing building, out of sync with the rest of the town’s small-scale intimacy, all red bricks, curved walls, and grand columns. The Doctor tried the door, and found it was open. They stepped inside.
The roof arched and curved, with red curtains hanging from the walls. The walls were lined with bookshelves, all meticulously arranged, perfectly alphabetized, and immaculately set out. But a book was missing from the shelf nearest the door. As the Doctor walked to the far end of the hall, Antonia went to inspect the empty space on the bookshelf. The book titles were marked on the shelf underneath each book, and the title underneath the blank space read “Ruminations on the Guardian and the Nameless”.
At the far end of the hall, there was an altar, with a tapestry, frayed and curling at the edges, hanging above it. The tapestry told a story.
“The religion is built around two beings,” said the Doctor, as Antonia walked over to join him. “The first is a demon, that the tapestry only calls the Nameless, which comes to the town and steals the souls of the innocent.”
“The creature?”
“It would seem so. But every time it comes to steal souls, theNameless is fought off by the Guardian, the town’s God. The Guardian protects the town in its time of need, but the town needs to leave offerings to indicate their need.”
“The wreaths?”
“The wreaths. And the choir’s prayer.” The Doctor lowered his voice to a furious growl. “It’s lies, lies and fakery.”
A polite, enquiring voice piped up behind them. “What, may I ask, is lies and fakery?”
The Doctor and Antonia turned to see a small, middle aged man dressed in long white robes. It didn’t take a genius to guess that this was the town’s priest.
“Asral?” asked Antonia, remembering the name of the man Karliah had said first noticed Josiah had gone missing.
“That is me,” said the man mildly. “But it seems you have me at a disadvantage. May I ask who you are?”
“I’m the Doctor, and this is Antonia.”
“Ah, yes. I remember the townspeople mentioning a man called the Doctor who caused quite a stir at last night’s ceremony. A pleasure, I’m sure. Now, you still haven’t answered my question. What is it that you’re calling ‘lies and fakery’?”
“Everything you have these poor people doing in the hopes of summoning a God to save them. You know what the Gods never do? Show up! And now you’re hoping yours will do just that.”
“The Guardian will return, Doctor. That I can guarantee.”
“Distant guardians don’t save people,” said the Doctor. “People save themselves. And you’re giving them every reason not to.”
“Then what are you doing?” asked Asral. “From what I’ve heard about your actions today, you’ve been quite happy to swoop in in the name of saving our town, instead of letting us save ourselves.”
“I’m trying to get your town to act for itself,” said the Doctor. “But if the passive compliance you’ve encouraged means they’re too far gone, then yes, I will do everything I can to save them myself. Because it’s the right thing to do.”
While she absolutely trusted that the Doctor’s methods were better suited to saving the town than Asral’s, Antonia couldn’t help thinking that Asral was onto something. The Doctor was right to help people, but he had a way of assuming he had to be their saviour… it was like that duty of care he took on without asking Antonia whether it was something she actually wanted.
Either way, he was getting sucked into an argument he didn’t need, and it was up to her to get him out of it. “Doctor, we found out what we needed to know. Let’s go.” Reluctantly, the Doctor complied. As they left, Antonia found her gaze drawn once again to the blank space on the bookshelf.
The Doctor had led them back to Jarval's wrecked market stall. The remaining traders were looking at the Doctor and Antonia with a “stay away from my property” expression. “You really shouldn't have destroyed Jarval's stall,” said Antonia.
“I had a reason,” said the Doctor. “It wasn't just to make a point.”
“So I was right? It wasn't just wanton destruction?”
“Well, maybe a little,” grimaced the Doctor, picking up the shards of a shattered plate regretfully. “I'll pay him back by saving his life.”
“So what was it for?”
“Well, we're going to head out to the lights on the ocean now,” said the Doctor. “I thought we'd have to eventually. But I had a hunch that the town's boats would have been taken like the TARDIS was.”
“So we're going to use this wood to build a raft?”
“Yes.”
There was a cough behind them. Antonia turned to see Karliah.
“Is that true, Antonia? You’re going out to sea to find the missing people?”
“That is the plan,” said the Doctor. “I’m sorry, I’m the Doctor, you are?”
“Oh, um, right. Doctor, this is Karliah. She’s the one who told me to come to the temple. Oh, and her mother’s Sarael, the woman who’s in charge of the town.”
“The one who led the ceremony? The one who didn’t take kindly to me breaking the stall?”
“No one took kindly to that, Doctor.”
“Well then,” said Karliah. “You’ll need someone who knows what they’re doing to help you, and a few more resources than just this wood. I’ve been helping build the town’s fishing boats since I was a girl. I’ll be back shortly.”
Before leaving, she gave Antonia a quick smile.
“Antonia, are you feeling too hot? Your face has gone all red,” said the Doctor.
“I - what? No - I-I’m fine.”
“Should I try and get you some aftersun or something?”
“Please stop.”
When Karliah returned with ropes, tools, and extra wood, they set to work. They toiled under the hot sun for some time, but slowly the raft began to take shape.
“So Karliah,” asked the Doctor. “Why are you helping us when no one else will?”
Karliah stopped hammering in a nail, and set down the mallet she was using. “All my life, I’ve been taught to have faith in the Guardian,” she said. “That he’s good, and kind, and will protect us when we are in danger. But where is he now? Who’s stopping the Nameless from stealing people in the night?” She started hammering again. “It seems to me that we need to protect ourselves.”
At that moment, Sarael called down the street. “Karliah! I told you to leave those people alone!” She raced down the street towards them, her footfall brisk and clipped. Karliah stood. This time, she wasn’t cowed by her mother. “And why should I leave them alone, mother? They’re trying to help us.”
“The Guardian will help us.”
“Maybe the Guardian wants us to help ourselves! Have you considered that? And even if he does come to save us, how can it hurt to try and save ourselves without him?”
“You know this, Karliah: if we try and solve our problems without trusting in the Guardian, he will see it as a sign we don’t respect his power. He won’t come to save us.”
“If it’s only me offending him, then he’ll still save the rest of the town, won’t he? But personally, I’d like to try and help the town through my own strength.”
“Please,” said Sarael, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
And there it was, Antonia realised. The same protective impulse that made the Doctor risk his life trying to get the TARDIS back rather than risk leaving Antonia stranded. That desire to protect beyond reason, that didn’t respect wishes of the person being protected.
“I understand that,” said Antonia. “She’s your daughter, and you want to keep her safe. But she’s an adult, she has to make choices of her own sometime. And she’ll be okay doing that: she’s kind of brilliant.”
Karliah smiled at her, and Antonia had to fight not to blush again. “Please, mother, let me do this. Maybe between your faith and my actions, we can save the town.”
Sarael sighed. “If you’re so determined, then I suppose I’d better help.”
Without another word, she knelt down, picked up a saw, and together, they continued building the raft.
By the time the raft was ready, evening had come and the sun was setting, casting an orange pool over the sea on the horizon. Sarael gave Karliah a grey flower, the kind used for the wreaths. “To keep you safe,” she said.
The Doctor, Antonia, and Karliah stepped onto the raft, and set off. It wobbled as they pushed off from the edge of the beach, but steadied once they were a few metres out. Each of them had an oar, and slowly, they rowed out together. Occasionally, a small wave would pass underneath them, causing the raft to tip up and down slightly, but for the most part, the water was as still and flat as a pond. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the moons became the only source of light. By now, the town had become a pinprick in the distance.
“Water, water everywhere,” said the Doctor.
“And not a drop to drink,” finished Antonia. “Pardon?” asked Karliah.
“It’s from a poem, by Samuel Taylor Coleridge,” said Antonia. It occurred to her that the Nameless could have been from a fantastical poem or a folk tale: an evil spirit haunting a seaside town and stealing its inhabitants away in the night. The Doctor valued science over superstition, but his world was one of poetry and fairy tales. But then, the Doctor always said that poetry and science were the same thing, because of the rhymes.
The lights were looming over them now, even eerier up close. Each hung a foot above the water, and was about two metres tall. The Doctor held up a hand, and they stopped rowing. Now the raft simply drifted slowly with the current.
“What are we doing?” asked Karliah.
“Waiting,” said the Doctor.
“Waiting for what?”
Black fog started to snake around the raft.
“This!” said the Doctor.
“Doctor, why would we wait for the fog?” asked Antonia. “It’ll take the raft, and at best, send us back to the town. At worst, we’ll be knocked unconscious and left to drown out here.”
“No it won’t! I have a plan!”
“Care to share it?”
The Doctor whipped out the sonic screwdriver, and activated it. “The fog’s presumably a teleportation device, so I just have to lock onto its signal, and it will take us wherever the boats are, and where the TARDIS is. And that shouldn’t be too far from the abductees and the Nameless.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“You should never be sure of anything; you can never trust a person who’s sure they’re right!”
Oh, great, thought Antonia. Business as usual…
The fog, now finished wrapping itself around the boat, started surrounding Antonia, Karliah, and the Doctor, enveloping them in darkness…
When she came to, Antonia thought she was lying in mid air. There was no visible surface beneath her, and it occurred to her briefly that the Doctor’s plan might actually have gotten them killed this time, and that this was some outer body experience she was having in the last moments of her life. Then she pushed herself up to stand, and realised she was pressing her hands against glass.
As she turned to see the town and the ocean in the distance, she understood. “We’re inside the glass mountains.”
“Indeed we are,” said the Doctor. He was already standing, and pressing his fingertips against the glass wall. “Fascinating place, this. Do you want to wake Karliah? I’m sure she’d like to see.”
Antonia walked over to Karliah. “Karliah,” she said gently. “We’re here.”
Karliah startled awake. “No...Stop!” she cried out.
“Look where we are,” said Antonia, pointing towards the village.
Karliah understood straight away. “But the glass mountains were meant to be impossible to scale.”
The Doctor grinned his more-scary-than-charming grin. “Oh, anything’s possible if you’re a scary handsome genius from outer space.”
Karliah just looked at him blankly.
“Never mind him,” said Antonia. “He just says things like that sometimes.”
The room they were in was filled with all the boats and carts that had been taken by the Nameless, as well as ...
“The TARDIS!” exclaimed the Doctor. He ran excitedly towards it, but a pale blue light surrounded it as he got closer, causing him to stop in his tracks. “Forcefield,” he said, by way of explanation.
Karliah was looking at another ship, a battered old sailing boat. “Mother taught me to sail in this,” she said.
At the end of the room, there was a gap in the wall. “We should head on,” said Antonia, indicating the gap. “See if we can find the abductees as well.” Once again, she found herself thinking of Jarval, and how brave he’d been protecting her.
They walked down a long corridor. When she looked down and saw through the clear floor to the ground hundreds of metres below, Antonia felt a little giddy. At the end of the corridor, there was a new room.
Inside the room, a pale, thin man was laid out on a table, completely still. Six cylindrical tubes, with six occupants inside, were positioned in a circle around the man. Karliah let out a cry, and ran up to him.
“Josiah!” she looked at the Doctor and Antonia, tears in her eyes. “He’s not breathing.”
The Doctor approached Josiah cautiously, and leant towards him. “Dead,” he confirmed softly.
Karliah put her head into her hands, and started to sob. Antonia put an arm around her shoulder.
The Doctor continued to examine Josiah’s body. “Strangled, judging by the bruise marks around the neck. Would explain the lack of a scream.”
“We-we went to school together,” said Karliah. “He was two years older than me. He didn’t like the sweet roll we’d be given, so he always shared his with me. He made it less scary for me when I was a child starting out. And now he’s gone. The others, are they dead too?”
“No,” said the Doctor. “These are stasis pods. If we woke them up now, they wouldn’t think any time has passed. And physically, for them, it wouldn’t have. They’d be exactly the same age they were when they were put into stasis.”
Antonia looked at Jarval in his pod, and breathed a sigh of relief. “So how do we save them?” she asked. “And how do we stop the Nameless?”
“The first question’s easy enough.” said the Doctor. “We find whatever’s operating the stasis pods, and use it to open them up. The second question… is harder. Because this doesn’t make sense. Why did the Nameless kill Josiah by strangling him? It clearly has other means of murder. And why has it kept all of its other victims in stasis?”
“There’s another thing that doesn’t make sense, Doctor,” said Antonia. “Karliah’s town, they don’t have technology this advanced. So where did it come from?”
“Good question.” The Doctor surveyed the stasis pods. They were worn, rusted. “Old,” he said. “Very very old. Thousands of years, possibly more.”
Striding purposefully around the room, he walked over to a keyboard with strange buttons, and a large, oval shaped monitor. He pressed a few buttons, and the computer sputtered fitfully to life. As it did this, a green, humanoid form materialized in front of them.
“The Nameless!” shrieked Karliah.
“It’s okay,” said the Doctor. “It hasn’t activated yet. It’s not a demon, just the computer’s interface. But any sufficiently advanced technology can end up looking like the work of gods and demons in the right circumstances.”
The Doctor turned back to Antonia and Karliah.
“Working theory. Karliah, your ancestors were likely human colonists seeking out a new world to live on, and made a home here. But thousands of years ago, there was a disaster - environmental catastrophe, war, it doesn’t matter what, that set civilisation back thousands of years. All that survived was the Nameless, only originally it wasn’t the Nameless, it was just a killing machine designed by some twisted person. The perfect killing machine. And as your ancestors didn’t have the means to understand it, they called it a demon. They formed a religion around stopping it: most likely, the Guardian never existed, it was just the name given to the people who stopped the Nameless whenever it started taking lives. And now, it’s not so perfect at its job. It’s aging, and malfunctioning. It hit a glitch in its programming, and now it’s stopped taking lives, and started putting people in stasis. A system out of control - I’ve encountered those before.”
“Are you sure?” asked Antonia.
“About every detail? No,” said the Doctor. “But ultimately, it doesn’t really matter. All that matters is the one detail I am sure of: it’s a system that has taken innocent lives, and there’s only one thing to do with that type of system. Shut it down.”
At these words, the interface sprung to life, grabbing hold of the Doctor, causing black fog to start surrounding him, snaking around his wrists and ankles. Antonia sped towards the creature.
“Leave him alone!” she shouted, but the Nameless grabbed hold of Antonia, and black fog started to swirl around her, too. “Karliah!” shouted the Doctor. “You can shut it down! The code is alpha-delta-37-apple-e…”
As he spoke, fog snaked around his mouth, silencing him.
Karliah ran towards the keyboard. Frantically tapping at the buttons on the screen, she desperately tried to shut the Nameless down, but not knowing a thing to press, she simply made the computer blurt out a noise of protest as a box titled “ERROR” appeared on the screen. She screamed in frustration, but then she saw the message in the box. GUARDIAN system under threat.
She looked again at the pods surrounding the table, and she understood.
“It didn’t commit the murder, it’s investigating it,” she said. “And these aren’t its victims, they’re its suspects! Antonia, Doctor, it isn’t the Nameless, it’s the Guardian!”
She turned to face the creature and pulled out the flower her mother had given her. “Guardian, I need your help!”
The smoke that had been surrounding Antonia and the Doctor disappeared, and they fell to the ground, breathing quick, shallow breaths.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” said Karliah. “My god, I’m right.”
The Doctor walked back towards the figure of the interface, looking it up and down as if seeing it for the first time.
“Of course,” said the Doctor. “Isolating the village wasn’t a means of trapping its victims, it was a means of keeping the suspects in one place. I was right about it being a worn down computer system, but wrong about what it was trying to do: it was trying to solve a murder, not commit them. It’s a justice system! Malfunctioning and broken, but you could say that makes it like any justice system.”
“So what do we do now?” asked Antonia.
“Well, that bit’s easy,” said the Doctor “I’m good with computers: fix this one, and it should be able to solve Josiah’s murder. Whoever strangled him would have left fingerprints: I’m guessing the function that scans for those is broken, so I’ll just reset it now…”
He tapped away at the computer quickly, and pressed the last key with a final flourish.
“Done!” he said happily before turning to Karliah. “Thank you. You saw what I couldn’t. You saved us, Karliah. We couldn’t have done this without you.”
The Guardian was standing over Josiah, emitting a green light that covered the length of his body.
“It’s scanning him now, it should find the fingerprints and identify their owner any moment now,” said the Doctor.
As soon as he finished speaking, the thick black fog began to envelop the room once more.
“Ready?” asked the Doctor.
“Yes,” said Karliah.
“Always,” said Antonia.
“Good,” said the Doctor, “Because we’re approaching the endgame…”
The Doctor and Antonia were back at the beach, only this time, they weren’t alone. Jarval and the other five surviving abductees lay on the beach, sleeping peacefully. The boats had returned, as had the TARDIS. The Guardian stood behind them, and Karliah knelt next to Antonia, clutching Josiah’s body. She wasn’t crying now, but when Antonia crouched down and placed a hand on her shoulder, she could feel her shaking. It was still and dark, though the moons shone brightly.
“Karliah!”
Sarael and a tall, broad shouldered man raced across the beach towards them.
“Mother, father!” called Karliah, her voiced flooded with emotion.
Karliah’s parents were about to embrace their daughter when they saw the Guardian behind her, and Josiah’s body in her arms.
“The Nameless,” whispered Sarael in terror. “It killed Josiah, and now you’ve brought it to us.”
“No,” said the Doctor. “It’s not the Nameless, it’s the Guardian. And it’s not a god, or a demon. Just a computer interface. It’s been trying to solve Josiah’s murder, but it was breaking down, and its attempts to do so were a little confused. I fixed it, and now it can find the killer.”
“I… what you’re saying… it can’t be…”
“It’s true, mother,” said Karliah. “All of it.”
Trusting her daughter, Sarael nodded. “Very well,” she said. “Lead the way.”
Antonia turned to Karliah’s father. “We need someone to watch over the abductees. They’ll be waking up soon, and though they’re fine, they’ll probably be a little confused, and could use someone to look after them. Could you stay with them and Josiah?”
“Of course,” he said, without question or complaint.
“Thank you,” said Antonia.
The Guardian led the Doctor, Antonia, Karliah, and Sarael up the beach and through the streets, past houses and market stalls, before stopping at a house with a wooden arch over its door.
“This is the house of Josiah’s killer?” asked Sarael.
“Yes,” said the Doctor.
“Then how could he do this?”
“We’re about to find out,” said the Doctor, as the Guardian passed its hand over the handle, and the door swung open.
Asral sat in his chair in the darkened living room, quite calm. He remained calm as the blue barrier that had formed a forcefield around the TARDIS now materialised around him. “Am I to be the next victim of the Nameless, then?” he asked, his voice remaining remarkably even.
“I think you know full well what’s happening here,” said the Doctor. “This is not the Nameless, and it’s not here to take your soul, it’s here to convict you for your crimes. You killed Josiah, and now you’ve been found out.”
“Oh, really? And what is your proof of this? What could possibly be my motive? You come here as a stranger to this town, and claim to be saving it by ridding it of its priest. How do we know you’re not just in league with the Nameless?”
Karliah stepped forward. “I can vouch for his story. I’m his proof. We can find out why you killed Josiah once you’ve paid for your crimes.”
Asral gave her a look of pity. “Oh, you poor child. You don’t know what you’re saying. I forgive you.” He turned to Sarael. “Can’t you see what’s happened? Your daughter’s been deceived by a stranger and bewitched by a demon. She’s not herself. We can save her, but you have to trust me.”
Antonia could see the doubt was back on Sarael’s face: she stepped back from the Doctor and Antonia, and grabbed at Karliah. “Karliah, what have they done to you?” she asked frantically.
“Nothing, mother. You have to believe me, he’s lying to you.”
“But why would Asral kill Josiah? If we can’t trust our priest, who can we trust?”
“Trust me, mother. I’m your daughter.”
Sarael stood, silent, looking between her daughter and her priest.
“Sarael, please,” said the Doctor. “Listen to her.”
Sarael jumped back and grabbed hold of her daughter. “Stay away from me!” she shouted. “How can I trust you, when you’ve turned our town on its head in a day? How can I trust you when I don’t even know your name?”
Antonia watched the situation spiralling out of control: the desperation on the Doctor’s face, the tears in Karliah and Sarael’s eyes, Asral smiling silently in his chair, when she saw the book on the table beside him, and read the title: “Ruminations on the Guardian and the Nameless”. She remembered where she’d seen those words before.
The empty space on the bookshelf in the temple.
“Care to share your bedside reading with us, Asral?” she asked.
“I- what?”
Antonia ignored him, and turned to Sarael. “I get it, you need to be sure Asral’s really what we say he is. Because if he is, that changes your entire world. And nobody wants their entire world to change. But I might have what you need to be sure.”
Tentatively, Sarael let go of Karliah, though she didn’t move away from her daughter. She picked up the book from the table, and passed it to the Doctor.
Please let me be right, please let me be right.
“I think he took this from the temple,” she said. “And I think it’ll have some information that might just explain his actions.”
“Well, let’s have a look,” said the Doctor. He took a look at the book, and then threw it in the air with a flourish, watching it fall to the ground. “Should open on the most viewed page,” he said. “You don’t need a computer to check someone’s browser history.”
He picked it up, looking over the pages the book had opened on. “I think this might be it,” he said, passing the book to Sarael. “Have a read.”
Sarael read. “There’s a bit that’s been circled: ‘The Nameless comes from men, and will always come from men.’ Everyone knows what that means, though, we’ve all heard it before: it’s a metaphor. For the way the Nameless corrupts our hearts and minds, turns us against the Guardian.”
“Really?” said the Doctor. “There’s a note at the bottom of the page, what does it say?”
“‘I must become the Nameless.’... Asral, this is your handwriting.” She looked at Asral.
“It wasn’t a metaphor,” said the Doctor. “The Nameless isn’t a demon, but it is real. It’s the most unspeakable, nameless act of evil that people commit. The act of murder, of ending an innocent life, without justification. The Guardian is a computer program, designed by your ancestors to solve that unspeakable crime without bias or discrimination. Possibly once, that made it the perfect judge, but time made it flawed, and the human superpower of forgetting turned it into your society’s god, and then its devil. You might have all grown up knowing those words, but Asral figured out what they really meant, and decided, like any religious zealot, that he would go to any lengths to meet his God, so he killed his loyal assistant, knowing that it would bring the Guardian to the town. But it wasn’t worth it, was it, Asral? Because this wasn’t the God you were expecting.”
Asral just sat there, quite silent.
“So there you are,” said the Doctor. “We have proof in the form of your God and the exceptional Karliah here, and we have motive in this book.” He tossed the book to the ground. Sarael turned to Asral. “It’s… it’s true, isn’t it?”
“True? True? Are you really accepting the lies of a madman?” Although he continued his denial, desperation began to seep into Asral’s voice.
“It’s not his testimony I’m accepting,” said Sarael. “It’s my daughter’s. My daughter, who you would have me believe could fall into the hands of a demon. And you almost had me believing you. But I know for a fact that I raised her better than that. You trying to poison me against Karliah was what it took for me to finally see you for the snake you are.”
With Sarael convinced, Asral finally dropped his already faltering act, the calm expression on his face slowly turning to a grimace. “Yes, I killed Josiah.” His face contorted and twisted, spittle flying from his mouth as he spoke. “I’m truly devout, and the truly devout would do anything to meet the Guardian. And yes, it was worth it. I don’t believe your lies about the Guardian being a false God. He stands in front of me right now: I finally get to meet the one I worship.”
But at his confession, the fog began to fill the forcefield he was trapped in. Moments later, Asral and the Guardian were gone.
Dawn was breaking at the beach: a new day. The lights were no longer hanging over the ocean, and the Doctor and Antonia were saying their goodbyes to Karliah and Sarael. “I’m sorry, Doctor,” said Sarael, “for not trusting you.”
“It’s quite alright. You world was being turned upside down, and you were trying to protect your daughter: that’s a pretty universal impulse.” He turned briefly, and watched Antonia talking and laughing with Karliah.
“But what do we do now? Our culture, our entire way of life, was built on lies.”
“That’s not for me to say: you have to choose where to go from here. I can’t step in from outside and shape your world for you. No one can have that power. And they weren’t lies, just misunderstandings - there was truth in there, beneath it all. The Guardian and the Nameless did exist, they just weren’t quite what you thought they were. Also, there’s this-” He ran over to Karliah, and asked if he could have the flower. She handed it to the Doctor, and he held it out for Sarael to see. “You thought the wreaths were meant to be used to ask the Guardian for help, and you were right. They just functioned as a passcode, not a prayer. Like voice recognition for the computer software.”
“Your words make no sense, Doctor,” laughed Sarael. “But the sentiment is a comfort.”
“It’s alright, no one ever understands me,” said the Doctor. “Most of what I say is basically for my benefit. But your daughter was one step ahead of me today: she was the one who figured out that the computer system was the Guardian. Thanks to her, six lives were saved, and your town can rebuild. You’ll be fine with brilliant people like her around.” Karliah blushed. Sarael looked at her daughter as if she were a whole new person: the overprotectiveness finally falling away.
The Doctor spoke one last time. “I know I said it’s not up to me, but if I had to give you any advice before I leave, it’s this. I’ve set the computer so that this will be the last case the Guardian solves: Asral is currently shut in a prison in the glass mountains, your village can decide the terms of his punishment from there. If you want, I can undo that setting now, but maybe it’s time you built a new justice system, one that can’t malfunction due to an error in the algorithm.”
“I think you’re right, Doctor,” said Sarael. “I’ll take your advice on this.”
“Good,” said the Doctor. “In my experience, justice works better when it’s handled with a touch of humanity. And systems are generally less dangerous when you don’t make them your god.”
He walked off towards the TARDIS, and waited at the doors.
Karliah looked Antonia in the eyes. “I take it you have to leave now?”
Antonia didn’t dare to look away. “I’m afraid so. I take it you have to stay?”
“I’m afraid so,” said Karliah.
The sun rose above the horizon, bathing them in orange light. “In that case,” said Karliah. “We’d better say goodbye properly.”
She pressed her hand against Antonia’s back, pulled her close, and kissed her. Antonia’s arms waved awkwardly for a moment, before she folded them around Karliah in return.
When they broke apart, Antonia found she was blushing again. “Right. Yes. Very proper.”
She stepped back, and grinned at Karliah. “Don’t go anywhere, this bit’s really good.”
Antonia ran to join the Doctor, and together, they stepped inside the TARDIS. Karliah and Sarael watched as the blue box made a wheezing, groaning noise, whipping up wind and causing the surrounding pebbles to stir as it vanished, reappeared, vanished and reappeared again, until it was gone for good. Antonia and the Doctor stood quietly at the console unit, listening to to the thrumming and bleeping of the TARDIS in flight. Antonia broke the silence. “Asral said you were like the Guardian: someone who swoops in from outside to save people and stops them from helping themselves. And I know you let those kind of things get to you, so I thought I should say: he’s wrong. Yes, you save people, but you were right about Karliah: she was incredible, and we couldn’t have saved the town without her. You don’t try to be a hero: you do the right thing, and that inspires other people to be heroes. And that’s pretty awesome.”
The Doctor smiled. “Thank you, Antonia. But you’re wrong about Karliah: it wasn’t me who inspired her. That was all you. Truth be told, I think she was quite taken with you.” Antonia grinned again. “I kissed a cute girl.”
“You certainly did.”
That was pretty great, thought Antonia, though I still have no idea how to perform a flirt.