Trenzalore - Series 2
Episode 2/6
SILENT NIGHT
Previously:
The Doctor has been sent to a town called Christmas on the planet Trenzalore, where the Time Lords are calling out his name through a crack in the wall. Clara Oswald and the TARDIS are gone, and for company the Doctor has the townspeople. The Doctor meets Archie Sawyer, the old Sheriff of Christmas, and April, his adventurous teenage daughter. Over fifty years later...
Archie Sawyer has been dead many years, and the Doctor continues to defend Christmas with the now sixty year-old April, most recently fighting an attack of Yeti, leading inadvertently to the creation of the Whispermen.
The Doctor has been sent to a town called Christmas on the planet Trenzalore, where the Time Lords are calling out his name through a crack in the wall. Clara Oswald and the TARDIS are gone, and for company the Doctor has the townspeople. The Doctor meets Archie Sawyer, the old Sheriff of Christmas, and April, his adventurous teenage daughter. Over fifty years later...
Archie Sawyer has been dead many years, and the Doctor continues to defend Christmas with the now sixty year-old April, most recently fighting an attack of Yeti, leading inadvertently to the creation of the Whispermen.
Prologue
“This is where it ends. Your town. Your world. Your hope.”
April’s hand trembled over the switch as she hid behind the clock-tower, listening in on the conversation, waiting for the Doctor’s signal. She kept turning involuntarily, sensing something creeping up behind her – but the Doctor had drawn them all towards him. Just like he always did.
“To even consider winning,” spat the creature, “would be a wasted exercise. You cannot kill us. Our weapons are a hundred times more advanced than yours.”
“Why would we want weapons?” the Doctor scoffed at the idea, gesturing for the rest of the town to join. They responded with a hearty chuckle, as if they’d stayed out in the pub a couple of hours too late. “We’ve got something you’ve never had – Christmas presents. April, now!”
April flicked the switch and the mechanism began to turn and wobble. Suddenly, the wrapping flew off the massive present in the middle of the town, revealing… a blue tree. The villagers recognised that it was indigenous to Trenzalore and a few of them raised eyebrows or made faces, wondering what on Earth the Doctor could have planned with this.
The creature sneezed.
“What’s that? Something irritate your nose? Maybe it’s one of the plants…” the Doctor pirouetted, pretending to look around for something, and turned back to the creature, putting on an American accent. “From the moment the invaders arrived,” he spoke, “breathed our air, ate and drank, they were doomed. They were undone, destroyed, after all of man’s weapons and devices had failed, by the tiniest creatures that God in his wisdom had put upon this earth.”
The creature had now fallen to the floor, choking and flailing, making a sort of grotesque snow-angel.
“By the toll of a billion deaths, man had earned his immunity, his right to survive among this planet’s infinite organisms. And that right is ours against all challenges!” The Doctor approached the creature, now lying flat, staring up at him with bloodshot eyes. “For neither do men live,” said the Doctor, quieter, “nor die in vain. Personally, I can’t stand Tom Cruise.”
An official from the Papal Mainframe approached the Doctor. “Sir-“
“Yes. Tell Tasha to send a shuttle – we want this thing half-way across the universe by tonight. Also… an ambulance.”
The official nodded. April emerged from behind the clock-tower and smiled. The Doctor still refused to let them die, whatever they did. But every day he would find a new way to protect Christmas. A stranger, more wonderful and unexpected way to restore their faith in the stalemate, before finding time to fix a few toys. And not because he owed them – not because he was forced to – but because for every crying child, the Doctor would have sacrificed a century.
And on Christmas, no single child was ever known to cry.
April’s hand trembled over the switch as she hid behind the clock-tower, listening in on the conversation, waiting for the Doctor’s signal. She kept turning involuntarily, sensing something creeping up behind her – but the Doctor had drawn them all towards him. Just like he always did.
“To even consider winning,” spat the creature, “would be a wasted exercise. You cannot kill us. Our weapons are a hundred times more advanced than yours.”
“Why would we want weapons?” the Doctor scoffed at the idea, gesturing for the rest of the town to join. They responded with a hearty chuckle, as if they’d stayed out in the pub a couple of hours too late. “We’ve got something you’ve never had – Christmas presents. April, now!”
April flicked the switch and the mechanism began to turn and wobble. Suddenly, the wrapping flew off the massive present in the middle of the town, revealing… a blue tree. The villagers recognised that it was indigenous to Trenzalore and a few of them raised eyebrows or made faces, wondering what on Earth the Doctor could have planned with this.
The creature sneezed.
“What’s that? Something irritate your nose? Maybe it’s one of the plants…” the Doctor pirouetted, pretending to look around for something, and turned back to the creature, putting on an American accent. “From the moment the invaders arrived,” he spoke, “breathed our air, ate and drank, they were doomed. They were undone, destroyed, after all of man’s weapons and devices had failed, by the tiniest creatures that God in his wisdom had put upon this earth.”
The creature had now fallen to the floor, choking and flailing, making a sort of grotesque snow-angel.
“By the toll of a billion deaths, man had earned his immunity, his right to survive among this planet’s infinite organisms. And that right is ours against all challenges!” The Doctor approached the creature, now lying flat, staring up at him with bloodshot eyes. “For neither do men live,” said the Doctor, quieter, “nor die in vain. Personally, I can’t stand Tom Cruise.”
An official from the Papal Mainframe approached the Doctor. “Sir-“
“Yes. Tell Tasha to send a shuttle – we want this thing half-way across the universe by tonight. Also… an ambulance.”
The official nodded. April emerged from behind the clock-tower and smiled. The Doctor still refused to let them die, whatever they did. But every day he would find a new way to protect Christmas. A stranger, more wonderful and unexpected way to restore their faith in the stalemate, before finding time to fix a few toys. And not because he owed them – not because he was forced to – but because for every crying child, the Doctor would have sacrificed a century.
And on Christmas, no single child was ever known to cry.
SILENT NIGHT
Written by The Genie
“I’m home!”
Katherine dumped her bags on the table and peered down the hall to see if she could get a sight of her husband. The hall was beautifully-furnished, with flowers left out in two unfamiliar vases, symbols from some ancient language printed on them. Men. They were so obsessed with all these nice, pretty little things.
“Katherine!” Zadock ran up to his wife, embracing her in a hug. He’d definitely been shopping – she recognised the scent of a new aftershave, and potentially a haircut, though he was one of those men whose hair always seemed to stay at the same short length. “What’s in the bag?”
“A new prayer system.” Katherine lifted it up and carried it through to the living room. “The old one refused to take any of the MM7 batteries, and it’s healthy to keep a stable connection with the afterlives. Nice hour at work?”
“Pressured,” admitted Zadock. “I had a class of a hundred. Parenting is awful these days, why can’t anyone raise a child properly?”
He stopped, realising he’d put his foot in his mouth. Sometimes he forgot after a long day, or when he got excited. This was the subject nobody mentioned.
“It’s okay.” Katherine nodded. “It will happen. I told you, I’ve been on those targeted nanogenes. They should be working by now.”
“When will we find out?”
Katherine smiled. “Tonight.”
As the couple shared a kiss, Zadock pulled the curtain with his spare hand, shutting away the outside world for the night. In these ungodly hours, no one needed to see the vast network of the Papal Mainframe, drifting silently through space.
***
“Information: you are low on marshmallows.”
April gave the Doctor an unimpressed look. “You actually programmed it to tell you that?”
The Doctor picked up Handles by his eponymous handles and balanced him on the side. “Moving swiftly on…”
“One of the kids has left you a drawing.” April handed the Doctor a sketch of the Time Lord and the villagers facing off a grotesque creature, a Christmas tree tagged onto the side of the picture. “Not bad. Getting better.”
“Yes…” the Doctor admired the drawing for a second, then put it down, distracted. “April, let’s go up to our little spot. There are some things I need to tell you.”
***
Katherine stared at the screen. Nothing. It was the same image she saw every night. The speakers were silent. The monitor projected an image of her body. Her body alone – no other life ticking away inside.
“This had been my last chance…”
She wanted to cry. To break down. Any kind of conventional grieving would have done – the things movies and books proved so eloquently happened in response to bad news. But nothing. She stood on, numb. Fury refused to let any other emotion pass through.
“Well say something…”
Zadock, unhelpfully, was numb too. She had expected an ‘it’s alright’ or a ‘we’ll find a way’, but this time there was nothing.
“Say something!” snapped Katherine.
Zadock continued to stare on in silence. He went to bed in silence, and slept without a snore. Katherine never stopped screaming at him, or smashing plates against the wall. Eventually, he simply stopped hearing.
***
“I’ve told you lots of stories.”
“Yes, you have.” April nodded, looking up at the stars. She wondered if she had a story for each star by now. If not, there was probably a story set on each. “The children love the ones about the Daleks. The adults find them too scary.”
“There are some stories I haven’t told you, though. There was the time I stood in the middle of a battlefield and pressed a button that-“
“-is now none of my business and you have every right to keep secret.”
The Doctor smiled. April never let curiosity get in the way of kindness.
“I can’t lie here, so sometimes I just don’t say anything at all. But there is one story that needs telling, April, a story I never even told your father. Because it hasn’t happened yet.”
“You said you had a time machine. That’s not surprising.”
“And it happens here.”
April had nothing to say to that, but turned and looked on at the Doctor, fascinated and utterly terrified.
“Do you remember the Great Intelligence?”
April nodded.
“Well, after it attacked Christmas, it went somewhere else…”
***
Katherine placed her bags on the table and peered into the hall for her husband. “I’m home!” she called.
The house was beautifully-furnished. There were more flowers than usual, and yet more vases had appeared. She waited the obligatory few seconds for Zadok to realise she was here and come to greet her, but nothing. As she glanced down to her watch, she noticed a piece of paper in the corner of her eye, left lying on the floor. It was a letter, neatly-folded and written on exquisite parchment – which meant it could only be from one person.
My dearest Katherine,
By the time you are reading this, I will be well beyond your grasp, so do not go looking for me.
The most important thing to remember is that I did not leave you out of hatred or resentment. You are a wonderful woman. A brave, intelligent and determined woman. You never give up, and you never hide your feelings. Within days I know I shall yearn for you, yet our parting is still the right choice.
There is nothing I have ever wanted more than children. That is why I got married in the first place. When I looked into your eyes for the first time, my reaction to your beauty was imagining the potential for it to be passed on.
I need children. It’s not your fault, and I’m sorry. But I can’t go on like this.
With love, always
Zadok
May your life and afterlife be blessed in my absence.
Katherine ripped the paper in half and screamed, kicking the table. The bags fell off it and the new glasses inside shattered.
What did he know? His mind might desire children, but his body was not hardwired for offspring. Yes, he understood the need to the raise a child. But he had no comprehension of what Katherine felt. It was like not being able to breathe but carrying on; denied of essential function, yet conscious of their necessity. She would always be incomplete. She could never run away.
“But you could… you coward.” Katherine picked up a photo-frame and smashed it on the corner of the table. “I hope you get uploaded to hell.”
***
A guard entered the Mother Superious’s chamber.
“Next time, please knock.” Tasha Lem rolled her eyes. Security staff got less intelligent by the day.
“It’s a message, your holiness.” Tasha turned, mildly interested. “From the Doctor.” She froze.
“What does it say?”
“I’m low on marshmallows.” Tasha sighed, pretending to be vexed but secretly amused.
“You know what marshmallows are?”
“The mouse-sized pillows, your holiness?”
“Yes. Now go and get him some of the pink ones, or he’ll be arming the village against us by noon.”
The guard left in a hurry, sweat already gathering on his brow. Tasha chuckled to herself. There was another knock at the door seconds later.
“Come in.”
Tasha instantly recognised the woman who entered and stood up for her. She was a lower rank, but Tasha felt, after all her hard work and virtuous behaviour, that she had earned a sum of respect which most of her security staff could never dream of.
“Katherine. It seems to have been quite some time since I briefed you.”
“My apologies, your holiness. I’m sure you’re aware of my personal situation.” Tasha nodded. “Regardless, you left me in charge of secret operations. I’m trying to catch up on some of the work I missed. I wanted to request your permission to work late in the growth quarters.”
“Any particular reason?”
“I’d like to focus on the potential for genetic mutation, your holiness. We need to aware of any potential for the enemy to use our own weapons against us.”
“Of course. You have my permission.”
Katherine nodded politely and turned to leave.
“Katherine?”
She stopped at the door.
“You do know that if you need anything, or just want to talk, I’m always here? Not just as your Mother Superious, but as your friend.”
“Yes.” Katherine nodded sadly. “Thank you.”
***
“What Clara did was brave. I wish I’d got to know her better.”
“But there’s one detail I’ve omitted, April. That planet was Trenzalore.”
“You mean…” April’s eyes widened. “You mean in the future?”
“Yes. Look at all this.” The Doctor gestured to the horizon. “One day that snow will be ash, the music will end and silence will fall. I always knew I was going to die on this planet. I always knew eventually, I would lose. So I take what I can. I take every small victory. Every life I save, every toy I fix. That’s the only way I can win this fight.”
“You’ve got a long life ahead of you. Just look at your face. You’re so much younger than I am.”
“I’m not. I age slower but I’m dying. Every cell in my body is slowly giving up. And I won’t go easily, April, I promise you that. I’ve got a few centuries left in this old thing yet. But it looks like I’ll be spending them here. This looks nothing like the place I saw in my future. I have to stay. And in staying, I’ll make it that.” The Doctor grimaced, and leant over the wall, watching the children playing below him. “One day I’ll be burying their bodies. I’ve never had to do that before.” He reached out for April’s hand, which she received openly, squeezing his tight. “I’ve never had to stay.”
***
Katherine watched the priests in their growth tubes, lulled by the quiet hum of machinery. Their faces were beginning to form from fleshy lumps into defined, skeletal shapes; black vacuums denoting eyes, mouths and other facial features which attempted to reconcile them with the image the Church associated with life. In truth, the appearance of the priests – their humanoid aspect, especially – was just a façade, a way of feeling comfortable around them. They were so much more than humanity. They embodied the essence of the otherworldly. They walked the narrow line between dimensions; between tangible and spiritual. And – worst all, Katherine thought – they got inside your head. They got inside your-
Katherine stumbled for a second after she turned. She thought she had been saying something. She looked back towards the blue light of the growth tubes and noticed the priests growing.
Their faces were beginning to form from fleshy lumps into defined, skeletal shapes; black vacuums denoting eyes, mouths and other facial features which attempted to reconcile them with the image the Church associated with life. In truth, the appearance of the priests – their humanoid aspect, especially – was just a façade, a way of feeling comfortable around them. They were so much more than humanity. They embodied the essence of the otherworldly. They walked the narrow line between dimensions; between tangible and spiritual. And – worst all, Katherine thought – they got inside your head. They got inside your-
Katherine stumbled for a second after she turned. She thought she had been saying something. She looked back towards the blue light of the growth tubes and noticed the priests growing.
Their faces were beginning to form from fleshy lumps into defined, skeletal shapes; black vacuums denoting eyes-
“What are you doing?”
Katherine jolted , startled by the voice of Tasha Lem from behind her.
“The feed for these growth tubes is the wrong compound. These have parasitic potential. They need to be aborted.” She turned to face Katherine, seeming barely startled. “But then, you knew that, didn’t you? I can always tell when a friend of mine is off.”
“I’m not your friend. I work for you. You just thought I was your friend, because…” Katherine thought to herself. “Why did you think I was your friend, Tasha? Is it because of the favours I did you? The investigations I covered up? It’s not like I had much choice. Friends don’t intimidate you.”
“I never intimidated you.”
“Yet you never gave me what I wanted. It was only ever one thing. I wanted to be a mother.” Katherine bit her lip to stop herself from crying. The wound was still raw. “That’s all I ever wanted. I wanted a little girl, boy or whatever else. And the rest I could have done myself – I could have made myself the best mother. Given up everything. Always put them first. Always loved them. Always forgiven them… why couldn’t you just give me that?” Katherine noticed a new bitterness, sharpness, to her tone.
“We tried everything-“
“You can’t even age! Don’t tell me there’s nothing you can’t do with a bit of divine authority. But you never wanted to. Probably because you never wanted to lose me. Well, look at this. Now you’re losing me.”
“It wasn’t like that.” Tasha stood her ground. “It was never like that.”
“Within a few minutes the priests will be out. Your powers extend a long way, Mother Superious, but not beyond the priests. And they respond to my authority alone. I have a shuttle ready to depart. If you leave now, we’ll go and spare your life.”
“Katherine, please-“
“Use my correct form of address!”
Katherine was sick of it. Even now, she addressed her Mother Superious appropriately, made sure all the social conventions were covered. Tasha Lem never even referred to her with the title she had earned.
“My name,” Katherine repeated, calmer.
“Madame Kovarian, please.”
Katherine sniggered. “There is nothing you can do to stop me. You wanted me to stay in the service of the Church? You’ve got your wish. This battle is all I have left now, and the children on the planet below are the closest thing I have to my own.”
“It’s said that in all the time the Doctor has been on Trenzalore, no child has ever cried.”
“And I’ll believe that.” Katherine nodded in understanding. “But we both know how long this war will go on for. One day, the Doctor won’t be able to protect those children because he’ll be the one making them cry. He’ll deliver the news that he couldn’t save their mummy and daddy, or he’ll run out of toy soldiers and he’ll put them on the front line instead. I am doing my duty and I am saving those children.”
“From what?”
“From him. From his battle and his future and his wrath. From a war that was never theirs to fight. And you aren’t going to stop me.”
The growth tubes started beeping, each indicating that the process was complete. Tasha backed away, scared.
“You’ll regret this. One day, you will have to face what you have done.”
Katherine stared on coldly.
“We’ll see each other again, Madame Kovarian,” finished Tasha Lem. “We’ll see each other again.”
***
Katherine dumped her bags on the table and peered down the hall to see if she could get a sight of her husband. The hall was beautifully-furnished, with flowers left out in two unfamiliar vases, symbols from some ancient language printed on them. Men. They were so obsessed with all these nice, pretty little things.
“Katherine!” Zadock ran up to his wife, embracing her in a hug. He’d definitely been shopping – she recognised the scent of a new aftershave, and potentially a haircut, though he was one of those men whose hair always seemed to stay at the same short length. “What’s in the bag?”
“A new prayer system.” Katherine lifted it up and carried it through to the living room. “The old one refused to take any of the MM7 batteries, and it’s healthy to keep a stable connection with the afterlives. Nice hour at work?”
“Pressured,” admitted Zadock. “I had a class of a hundred. Parenting is awful these days, why can’t anyone raise a child properly?”
He stopped, realising he’d put his foot in his mouth. Sometimes he forgot after a long day, or when he got excited. This was the subject nobody mentioned.
“It’s okay.” Katherine nodded. “It will happen. I told you, I’ve been on those targeted nanogenes. They should be working by now.”
“When will we find out?”
Katherine smiled. “Tonight.”
As the couple shared a kiss, Zadock pulled the curtain with his spare hand, shutting away the outside world for the night. In these ungodly hours, no one needed to see the vast network of the Papal Mainframe, drifting silently through space.
***
“Information: you are low on marshmallows.”
April gave the Doctor an unimpressed look. “You actually programmed it to tell you that?”
The Doctor picked up Handles by his eponymous handles and balanced him on the side. “Moving swiftly on…”
“One of the kids has left you a drawing.” April handed the Doctor a sketch of the Time Lord and the villagers facing off a grotesque creature, a Christmas tree tagged onto the side of the picture. “Not bad. Getting better.”
“Yes…” the Doctor admired the drawing for a second, then put it down, distracted. “April, let’s go up to our little spot. There are some things I need to tell you.”
***
Katherine stared at the screen. Nothing. It was the same image she saw every night. The speakers were silent. The monitor projected an image of her body. Her body alone – no other life ticking away inside.
“This had been my last chance…”
She wanted to cry. To break down. Any kind of conventional grieving would have done – the things movies and books proved so eloquently happened in response to bad news. But nothing. She stood on, numb. Fury refused to let any other emotion pass through.
“Well say something…”
Zadock, unhelpfully, was numb too. She had expected an ‘it’s alright’ or a ‘we’ll find a way’, but this time there was nothing.
“Say something!” snapped Katherine.
Zadock continued to stare on in silence. He went to bed in silence, and slept without a snore. Katherine never stopped screaming at him, or smashing plates against the wall. Eventually, he simply stopped hearing.
***
“I’ve told you lots of stories.”
“Yes, you have.” April nodded, looking up at the stars. She wondered if she had a story for each star by now. If not, there was probably a story set on each. “The children love the ones about the Daleks. The adults find them too scary.”
“There are some stories I haven’t told you, though. There was the time I stood in the middle of a battlefield and pressed a button that-“
“-is now none of my business and you have every right to keep secret.”
The Doctor smiled. April never let curiosity get in the way of kindness.
“I can’t lie here, so sometimes I just don’t say anything at all. But there is one story that needs telling, April, a story I never even told your father. Because it hasn’t happened yet.”
“You said you had a time machine. That’s not surprising.”
“And it happens here.”
April had nothing to say to that, but turned and looked on at the Doctor, fascinated and utterly terrified.
“Do you remember the Great Intelligence?”
April nodded.
“Well, after it attacked Christmas, it went somewhere else…”
***
Katherine placed her bags on the table and peered into the hall for her husband. “I’m home!” she called.
The house was beautifully-furnished. There were more flowers than usual, and yet more vases had appeared. She waited the obligatory few seconds for Zadok to realise she was here and come to greet her, but nothing. As she glanced down to her watch, she noticed a piece of paper in the corner of her eye, left lying on the floor. It was a letter, neatly-folded and written on exquisite parchment – which meant it could only be from one person.
My dearest Katherine,
By the time you are reading this, I will be well beyond your grasp, so do not go looking for me.
The most important thing to remember is that I did not leave you out of hatred or resentment. You are a wonderful woman. A brave, intelligent and determined woman. You never give up, and you never hide your feelings. Within days I know I shall yearn for you, yet our parting is still the right choice.
There is nothing I have ever wanted more than children. That is why I got married in the first place. When I looked into your eyes for the first time, my reaction to your beauty was imagining the potential for it to be passed on.
I need children. It’s not your fault, and I’m sorry. But I can’t go on like this.
With love, always
Zadok
May your life and afterlife be blessed in my absence.
Katherine ripped the paper in half and screamed, kicking the table. The bags fell off it and the new glasses inside shattered.
What did he know? His mind might desire children, but his body was not hardwired for offspring. Yes, he understood the need to the raise a child. But he had no comprehension of what Katherine felt. It was like not being able to breathe but carrying on; denied of essential function, yet conscious of their necessity. She would always be incomplete. She could never run away.
“But you could… you coward.” Katherine picked up a photo-frame and smashed it on the corner of the table. “I hope you get uploaded to hell.”
***
A guard entered the Mother Superious’s chamber.
“Next time, please knock.” Tasha Lem rolled her eyes. Security staff got less intelligent by the day.
“It’s a message, your holiness.” Tasha turned, mildly interested. “From the Doctor.” She froze.
“What does it say?”
“I’m low on marshmallows.” Tasha sighed, pretending to be vexed but secretly amused.
“You know what marshmallows are?”
“The mouse-sized pillows, your holiness?”
“Yes. Now go and get him some of the pink ones, or he’ll be arming the village against us by noon.”
The guard left in a hurry, sweat already gathering on his brow. Tasha chuckled to herself. There was another knock at the door seconds later.
“Come in.”
Tasha instantly recognised the woman who entered and stood up for her. She was a lower rank, but Tasha felt, after all her hard work and virtuous behaviour, that she had earned a sum of respect which most of her security staff could never dream of.
“Katherine. It seems to have been quite some time since I briefed you.”
“My apologies, your holiness. I’m sure you’re aware of my personal situation.” Tasha nodded. “Regardless, you left me in charge of secret operations. I’m trying to catch up on some of the work I missed. I wanted to request your permission to work late in the growth quarters.”
“Any particular reason?”
“I’d like to focus on the potential for genetic mutation, your holiness. We need to aware of any potential for the enemy to use our own weapons against us.”
“Of course. You have my permission.”
Katherine nodded politely and turned to leave.
“Katherine?”
She stopped at the door.
“You do know that if you need anything, or just want to talk, I’m always here? Not just as your Mother Superious, but as your friend.”
“Yes.” Katherine nodded sadly. “Thank you.”
***
“What Clara did was brave. I wish I’d got to know her better.”
“But there’s one detail I’ve omitted, April. That planet was Trenzalore.”
“You mean…” April’s eyes widened. “You mean in the future?”
“Yes. Look at all this.” The Doctor gestured to the horizon. “One day that snow will be ash, the music will end and silence will fall. I always knew I was going to die on this planet. I always knew eventually, I would lose. So I take what I can. I take every small victory. Every life I save, every toy I fix. That’s the only way I can win this fight.”
“You’ve got a long life ahead of you. Just look at your face. You’re so much younger than I am.”
“I’m not. I age slower but I’m dying. Every cell in my body is slowly giving up. And I won’t go easily, April, I promise you that. I’ve got a few centuries left in this old thing yet. But it looks like I’ll be spending them here. This looks nothing like the place I saw in my future. I have to stay. And in staying, I’ll make it that.” The Doctor grimaced, and leant over the wall, watching the children playing below him. “One day I’ll be burying their bodies. I’ve never had to do that before.” He reached out for April’s hand, which she received openly, squeezing his tight. “I’ve never had to stay.”
***
Katherine watched the priests in their growth tubes, lulled by the quiet hum of machinery. Their faces were beginning to form from fleshy lumps into defined, skeletal shapes; black vacuums denoting eyes, mouths and other facial features which attempted to reconcile them with the image the Church associated with life. In truth, the appearance of the priests – their humanoid aspect, especially – was just a façade, a way of feeling comfortable around them. They were so much more than humanity. They embodied the essence of the otherworldly. They walked the narrow line between dimensions; between tangible and spiritual. And – worst all, Katherine thought – they got inside your head. They got inside your-
Katherine stumbled for a second after she turned. She thought she had been saying something. She looked back towards the blue light of the growth tubes and noticed the priests growing.
Their faces were beginning to form from fleshy lumps into defined, skeletal shapes; black vacuums denoting eyes, mouths and other facial features which attempted to reconcile them with the image the Church associated with life. In truth, the appearance of the priests – their humanoid aspect, especially – was just a façade, a way of feeling comfortable around them. They were so much more than humanity. They embodied the essence of the otherworldly. They walked the narrow line between dimensions; between tangible and spiritual. And – worst all, Katherine thought – they got inside your head. They got inside your-
Katherine stumbled for a second after she turned. She thought she had been saying something. She looked back towards the blue light of the growth tubes and noticed the priests growing.
Their faces were beginning to form from fleshy lumps into defined, skeletal shapes; black vacuums denoting eyes-
“What are you doing?”
Katherine jolted , startled by the voice of Tasha Lem from behind her.
“The feed for these growth tubes is the wrong compound. These have parasitic potential. They need to be aborted.” She turned to face Katherine, seeming barely startled. “But then, you knew that, didn’t you? I can always tell when a friend of mine is off.”
“I’m not your friend. I work for you. You just thought I was your friend, because…” Katherine thought to herself. “Why did you think I was your friend, Tasha? Is it because of the favours I did you? The investigations I covered up? It’s not like I had much choice. Friends don’t intimidate you.”
“I never intimidated you.”
“Yet you never gave me what I wanted. It was only ever one thing. I wanted to be a mother.” Katherine bit her lip to stop herself from crying. The wound was still raw. “That’s all I ever wanted. I wanted a little girl, boy or whatever else. And the rest I could have done myself – I could have made myself the best mother. Given up everything. Always put them first. Always loved them. Always forgiven them… why couldn’t you just give me that?” Katherine noticed a new bitterness, sharpness, to her tone.
“We tried everything-“
“You can’t even age! Don’t tell me there’s nothing you can’t do with a bit of divine authority. But you never wanted to. Probably because you never wanted to lose me. Well, look at this. Now you’re losing me.”
“It wasn’t like that.” Tasha stood her ground. “It was never like that.”
“Within a few minutes the priests will be out. Your powers extend a long way, Mother Superious, but not beyond the priests. And they respond to my authority alone. I have a shuttle ready to depart. If you leave now, we’ll go and spare your life.”
“Katherine, please-“
“Use my correct form of address!”
Katherine was sick of it. Even now, she addressed her Mother Superious appropriately, made sure all the social conventions were covered. Tasha Lem never even referred to her with the title she had earned.
“My name,” Katherine repeated, calmer.
“Madame Kovarian, please.”
Katherine sniggered. “There is nothing you can do to stop me. You wanted me to stay in the service of the Church? You’ve got your wish. This battle is all I have left now, and the children on the planet below are the closest thing I have to my own.”
“It’s said that in all the time the Doctor has been on Trenzalore, no child has ever cried.”
“And I’ll believe that.” Katherine nodded in understanding. “But we both know how long this war will go on for. One day, the Doctor won’t be able to protect those children because he’ll be the one making them cry. He’ll deliver the news that he couldn’t save their mummy and daddy, or he’ll run out of toy soldiers and he’ll put them on the front line instead. I am doing my duty and I am saving those children.”
“From what?”
“From him. From his battle and his future and his wrath. From a war that was never theirs to fight. And you aren’t going to stop me.”
The growth tubes started beeping, each indicating that the process was complete. Tasha backed away, scared.
“You’ll regret this. One day, you will have to face what you have done.”
Katherine stared on coldly.
“We’ll see each other again, Madame Kovarian,” finished Tasha Lem. “We’ll see each other again.”
***
“There’s one more thing I don’t understand,” started April. “Just one. Why tell me all this tonight?”
“Because this might just be our last night together.”
The sun had risen over Christmas now, and the Doctor and April watched on from the clock-tower. In the distance, the mountains hid the rest of the planet from them, layered against each other like a cardboard puppet-show, behind which an inspiring background of daylight-blue and sunset-orange was positioned. Clouds passed over, almost touching the mountain-tops, whilst closer in proximity, the snow-capped trees and houses marked the one and only place in April Sawyer’s universe: home.
“April, you’ve spent your whole life on Christmas, and I’ve waged war through all of it. You’ve never known anywhere else. And I regret that.” The Doctor shook his head morosely. “It’s one of the very few things I do regret. Your father asked me to promise to keep you safe but I refused, because I knew that wasn’t my duty, it was your choice. You’re a grown woman and you always deserve that choice.”
“You’re not sending me away,” decided April. “Not ever. Just because I’m old, doesn’t mean I can’t go on adventures anymore. You are not sending me away to die.”
“No, of course not.” The Doctor looked April in the eye – not that that mattered in a town trapped in a web of truth. “I’m sending you away to live. Or offering you the chance. You’re sixty. That’s barely middle-aged.”
April laughed.
“My one regret about knowing you is that as a result, you’ve never known anywhere else. People like you… Clara, for instance… I always take them with me to show them the universe. Because there’s so much out there, April. So much. I’ve barely seen half of it. And I want you to see it. I can’t leave this town because I got it into this fight, but you can.”
“So you’re asking me to resign?”
“No. I’m giving you a present. A Christmas present. A thank you, from everyone on Trenzalore, and from no one more than me. Thank you for saving us for so many years. Now go and treat yourself. Up in the Papal Mainframe there’s a spacecraft with your name on it. It’ll take you anywhere you like. You’ll have company too. You’ll be able to see the universe, live out all those stories I told you about yourself, and in whatever time you have free, make up the end of this one. You don’t have to see us out. It’s your choice. You can take my gift or leave it. But if you really believe in the universe as much as I do…” the Doctor smiled knowingly. “I think I know what you’ll choose.”
“Thank you,” said April, with a tear in her eye. She embraced the Doctor in a hug, still looking over her town, now savouring the sight of it as the sun once more started to set. But the stars looked different. They were no longer the heavens, or a collection of stories. They were the next destination.
***
Tasha received a knock on her door, half-expecting it to be Katherine, then remembered. “Come in,” she said aloofly. A guard entered.
“Your holiness, we have procured information on the activities of the Kovarian Chapter.”
“And?”
“Well, that’s the thing, your holiness.” The guard dumped a tonne of files on the altar. So much for sacred space. “It’s rather a long story.”
“Then…” Tasha heaved herself up and approached the altar. “Let’s start at the beginning.”
***
The Doctor sat in his chair on the clock-tower, looking sadly to April’s place, but knowing he had done the right thing. He’d always expected to see that chair empty for other reasons.
“Information: marshmallows acquired.”
The Doctor smiled, and watched the children below him, waving up to the sky, and not a single tear – but a few salutes.
Above him, a spacecraft flew away from Trenzalore, soon to pass the amassed fleets of his enemies and leave the world of war for good. The Doctor gave his own salute and whispered to himself.
“Good luck, April.”
***
April slipped her feet in the warm water and they vanished beneath the bubbles. As she searched for a surface to leave her champagne on, she found a comfortable rest for her arm, and slid the window open – her first view of the real universe the Doctor was talking about. A hundred star systems flying slowly past her. Some in wars, some at peace; but each in perfect harmony with the other, even though they didn’t realise it.
“Where first, Miss Sawyer?” asked the chauffer.
“Are there are any good cities nearby?”
“There’s one a couple of hours away, made of diamonds. Shall I set it as the destination?”
“Why not… I hope it’s got good shops.” April wanted to take on last look at Trenzalore, but was too weak and too tired. That was okay. No looking back, no changing her mind. Just carrying on, into the stars, the vastness of space, until-
“Because this might just be our last night together.”
The sun had risen over Christmas now, and the Doctor and April watched on from the clock-tower. In the distance, the mountains hid the rest of the planet from them, layered against each other like a cardboard puppet-show, behind which an inspiring background of daylight-blue and sunset-orange was positioned. Clouds passed over, almost touching the mountain-tops, whilst closer in proximity, the snow-capped trees and houses marked the one and only place in April Sawyer’s universe: home.
“April, you’ve spent your whole life on Christmas, and I’ve waged war through all of it. You’ve never known anywhere else. And I regret that.” The Doctor shook his head morosely. “It’s one of the very few things I do regret. Your father asked me to promise to keep you safe but I refused, because I knew that wasn’t my duty, it was your choice. You’re a grown woman and you always deserve that choice.”
“You’re not sending me away,” decided April. “Not ever. Just because I’m old, doesn’t mean I can’t go on adventures anymore. You are not sending me away to die.”
“No, of course not.” The Doctor looked April in the eye – not that that mattered in a town trapped in a web of truth. “I’m sending you away to live. Or offering you the chance. You’re sixty. That’s barely middle-aged.”
April laughed.
“My one regret about knowing you is that as a result, you’ve never known anywhere else. People like you… Clara, for instance… I always take them with me to show them the universe. Because there’s so much out there, April. So much. I’ve barely seen half of it. And I want you to see it. I can’t leave this town because I got it into this fight, but you can.”
“So you’re asking me to resign?”
“No. I’m giving you a present. A Christmas present. A thank you, from everyone on Trenzalore, and from no one more than me. Thank you for saving us for so many years. Now go and treat yourself. Up in the Papal Mainframe there’s a spacecraft with your name on it. It’ll take you anywhere you like. You’ll have company too. You’ll be able to see the universe, live out all those stories I told you about yourself, and in whatever time you have free, make up the end of this one. You don’t have to see us out. It’s your choice. You can take my gift or leave it. But if you really believe in the universe as much as I do…” the Doctor smiled knowingly. “I think I know what you’ll choose.”
“Thank you,” said April, with a tear in her eye. She embraced the Doctor in a hug, still looking over her town, now savouring the sight of it as the sun once more started to set. But the stars looked different. They were no longer the heavens, or a collection of stories. They were the next destination.
***
Tasha received a knock on her door, half-expecting it to be Katherine, then remembered. “Come in,” she said aloofly. A guard entered.
“Your holiness, we have procured information on the activities of the Kovarian Chapter.”
“And?”
“Well, that’s the thing, your holiness.” The guard dumped a tonne of files on the altar. So much for sacred space. “It’s rather a long story.”
“Then…” Tasha heaved herself up and approached the altar. “Let’s start at the beginning.”
***
The Doctor sat in his chair on the clock-tower, looking sadly to April’s place, but knowing he had done the right thing. He’d always expected to see that chair empty for other reasons.
“Information: marshmallows acquired.”
The Doctor smiled, and watched the children below him, waving up to the sky, and not a single tear – but a few salutes.
Above him, a spacecraft flew away from Trenzalore, soon to pass the amassed fleets of his enemies and leave the world of war for good. The Doctor gave his own salute and whispered to himself.
“Good luck, April.”
***
April slipped her feet in the warm water and they vanished beneath the bubbles. As she searched for a surface to leave her champagne on, she found a comfortable rest for her arm, and slid the window open – her first view of the real universe the Doctor was talking about. A hundred star systems flying slowly past her. Some in wars, some at peace; but each in perfect harmony with the other, even though they didn’t realise it.
“Where first, Miss Sawyer?” asked the chauffer.
“Are there are any good cities nearby?”
“There’s one a couple of hours away, made of diamonds. Shall I set it as the destination?”
“Why not… I hope it’s got good shops.” April wanted to take on last look at Trenzalore, but was too weak and too tired. That was okay. No looking back, no changing her mind. Just carrying on, into the stars, the vastness of space, until-
NEXT TIME: Angels We Have Heard on High(Written by Jack Hudson)
After losing April, the Doctor is having a hard time on Trenzalore, but this is made a hundred times worse when he faces his most difficult challenge yet - Weeping Angels. Messing with time, the Doctor is trapped in two stories, and begins to understand how long he will really have to spend trapped on this planet. |
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