PROLOGUE
Hi Claire,
I was wondering if it would be possible to meet up at some point over the next week to discuss Jamie Clarke from 9K? Something problematic came up during the domestic violence unit for Ethical Studies.
Robin pondered over the word. Problematic. Was it too generic? It was a safe-word to use, so safe it didn’t really work in a sentence. Problematic was… problematic. She re-drafted the email.
Hi Claire,
I was wondering if it would be possible to meet up at some point over the next week to discuss Jamie Clarke from 9K? Something potentially worrying came up during the domestic violence unit for Ethical Studies. Could be nothing but I’m obliged to follow it up, and I don’t want to in all-guns-blazing with a phone-call home, considering the circumstances. I feel you know him better than I do and you may be able to recognise warning signs better than me.
Thanks,
Robin
Robin was glad she knew Claire well, or she’d have worried over that email all night. There never seemed to be a right way of putting it when people’s lives and families were a point of discussion. Once sent, she was redirected back to her inbox – pages of read and replied-to emails about ‘problematic’ – or potentially worrying – students; the disruptive ones, the quiet ones, the strange ones, the new ones. Robin took a sip of her coffee and sat back for a couple of minutes, watching the clock. Five hours sleep would have to do before tomorrow; she could catch up during the evening, since it was approaching the weekend. Chris was away in a school in India as part of a publicised charity campaign by Coal Hill, providing less fortunate students with a means to a good education. Also, fundraising encouraged people to sponsor the school, which was never a bad thing.
A reply flashed up. Good old Claire, apparently always awake and on-the-ball.
RE: Meeting?
Robin clicked open the email.
Hi Robin,
Yes, next week sounds great. How’s Tuesday? Email me back over the weekend and I’ll check my diary, which should be filled in by then.
Oh, by the way, if you do value my input – and thanks by the way, means a lot – I’d suggest leaving your house now, like right now. There’s someone on her way to kill you. I think she’s going to use a gun if you’re lucky, but it could be messier than that. Not really sure how she feels about you, so you might have to check with someone else about that, like the Doctor.
Anyway, got to go, I’ve got a splitting migraine.
Night,
Claire
Autumn froze, knowing instantly that it wasn’t ‘some kind of joke’. How had she known about the Doctor? There was always Coal Hill mythology, but this was too much of a coincidence…
No, though Robin to herself, trying to change her mind. No way. It’s ridiculous.
Robin turned, as a silhouette passed the window. She stood up silently, tiptoeing over to the doorway, peering into the hallway just enough to see the Doctor but not enough to expose herself. There was a silhouette behind the door.
She’s going to use a gun if you’re lucky.
As quietly as she could, quickly but methodical – as if taking inspiration from Autumn Rivers – Robin picked up her keys, crept through to the back door and unlocked it, picking up her mobile phone as she went. She reconsidered, and left the mobile behind, just in case. She slipped outside without shoes on, the grass cold and wet between her toes, and ran across the lawn, pulling up a chair and manoeuvring herself over the garden fence. As she turned to land on the other side, she took a last look at the house, and noticed the woman – the thief – her killer. She was searching for Robin, a gun in her hand. The woman hadn’t seen Robin. But Robin had seen her.
Robin felt herself land and made for the street. She’d have to find a phone, and it would be safer to do so in the middle of a public place. It would be risky, but it wasn’t that far to the city centre.
She shivered, running what she’d seen through her mind. The woman in the house was Autumn Rivers. The Doctor’s friend Autumn.
Autumn had come to Robin’s house to kill her. Suddenly Robin was overcome by a sensation of sheer terror, a crippling fear not for herself, but for the Doctor.
I was wondering if it would be possible to meet up at some point over the next week to discuss Jamie Clarke from 9K? Something problematic came up during the domestic violence unit for Ethical Studies.
Robin pondered over the word. Problematic. Was it too generic? It was a safe-word to use, so safe it didn’t really work in a sentence. Problematic was… problematic. She re-drafted the email.
Hi Claire,
I was wondering if it would be possible to meet up at some point over the next week to discuss Jamie Clarke from 9K? Something potentially worrying came up during the domestic violence unit for Ethical Studies. Could be nothing but I’m obliged to follow it up, and I don’t want to in all-guns-blazing with a phone-call home, considering the circumstances. I feel you know him better than I do and you may be able to recognise warning signs better than me.
Thanks,
Robin
Robin was glad she knew Claire well, or she’d have worried over that email all night. There never seemed to be a right way of putting it when people’s lives and families were a point of discussion. Once sent, she was redirected back to her inbox – pages of read and replied-to emails about ‘problematic’ – or potentially worrying – students; the disruptive ones, the quiet ones, the strange ones, the new ones. Robin took a sip of her coffee and sat back for a couple of minutes, watching the clock. Five hours sleep would have to do before tomorrow; she could catch up during the evening, since it was approaching the weekend. Chris was away in a school in India as part of a publicised charity campaign by Coal Hill, providing less fortunate students with a means to a good education. Also, fundraising encouraged people to sponsor the school, which was never a bad thing.
A reply flashed up. Good old Claire, apparently always awake and on-the-ball.
RE: Meeting?
Robin clicked open the email.
Hi Robin,
Yes, next week sounds great. How’s Tuesday? Email me back over the weekend and I’ll check my diary, which should be filled in by then.
Oh, by the way, if you do value my input – and thanks by the way, means a lot – I’d suggest leaving your house now, like right now. There’s someone on her way to kill you. I think she’s going to use a gun if you’re lucky, but it could be messier than that. Not really sure how she feels about you, so you might have to check with someone else about that, like the Doctor.
Anyway, got to go, I’ve got a splitting migraine.
Night,
Claire
Autumn froze, knowing instantly that it wasn’t ‘some kind of joke’. How had she known about the Doctor? There was always Coal Hill mythology, but this was too much of a coincidence…
No, though Robin to herself, trying to change her mind. No way. It’s ridiculous.
Robin turned, as a silhouette passed the window. She stood up silently, tiptoeing over to the doorway, peering into the hallway just enough to see the Doctor but not enough to expose herself. There was a silhouette behind the door.
She’s going to use a gun if you’re lucky.
As quietly as she could, quickly but methodical – as if taking inspiration from Autumn Rivers – Robin picked up her keys, crept through to the back door and unlocked it, picking up her mobile phone as she went. She reconsidered, and left the mobile behind, just in case. She slipped outside without shoes on, the grass cold and wet between her toes, and ran across the lawn, pulling up a chair and manoeuvring herself over the garden fence. As she turned to land on the other side, she took a last look at the house, and noticed the woman – the thief – her killer. She was searching for Robin, a gun in her hand. The woman hadn’t seen Robin. But Robin had seen her.
Robin felt herself land and made for the street. She’d have to find a phone, and it would be safer to do so in the middle of a public place. It would be risky, but it wasn’t that far to the city centre.
She shivered, running what she’d seen through her mind. The woman in the house was Autumn Rivers. The Doctor’s friend Autumn.
Autumn had come to Robin’s house to kill her. Suddenly Robin was overcome by a sensation of sheer terror, a crippling fear not for herself, but for the Doctor.
The Eighth Doctor Adventures
On Air
Written by the Genie
Autumn strode purposefully down the corridor, shaking a little, and turned in to the office, opening the door without knocking and startling the man standing politely at Lord Dalta’s desk, probably briefing him on something. The man stopped talking when he saw Autumn.
“Out,” instructed Autumn, taking the man and placing him outside.
“Excuse me,” started the man, who was probably twenty years older than Autumn, “do you have the authority to-“
“Move along.” Autumn slammed the door in his face and turned back to Lord Dalta.
“Autumn!” complained Dalta.
“Sit,” instructed Autumn, without a trace of emotion.
“Now, I-“
“I SAID SIT!”
Autumn’s fury came through in one word which could probably be heard across the corridor, and Lord Dalta sat down at once, trembling, suddenly terribly aware of who was in charge.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” said Autumn, lowering her voice.
“No!” protested Dalta, “I’ve been here the whole time. But if you will go out on spontaneous killing sprees-“
“Oh, so you knew about it!” Autumn laughed irately. “Oh, this is just brilliant. I told you the plan involved one of the Doctor’s friends. If I’m getting revenge on him I have to break him first. But no, you thought you’d go and screw that up for me by tipping her off. Exactly whose side are you on here, Dalta?”
“I understand you hate the Doctor,” replied Dalta, calmly, “but this is people getting caught in the crossfire. That was what you never wanted to happen, but you’ve got so carried away with it you’ve forgotten what you set out to do. But listen to me.” He leant forward. “I did not send that message to Robin. I’ve just been watching you, that’s all, keeping tabs on you. But I’m being honest with you so that you know there’s someone out there who knows about it.”
“I think we can guess who that is.”
***
The TARDIS
Autumn’s hologram reappeared by the console. If the Doctor didn’t know better, he would have thought it was a teleport. She was so real, so defined and powerful. He’d often put her formidable presence down to tangible factors, but now he understood that the authority she held over a room, the sense of being and wonder that came with her was truly her performance alone.
“How did you know?” she asked.
“You tried to kill my friend.” The Doctor approached Autumn, making the most of the extra six centimetres he had over her. “You overstepped the line.”
“How did you know?” Autumn repeated, a little angrier this time.
“I didn’t. She just called me. She’s terrified – of you.”
“Don’t give me that. Someone tipped her off that I was coming. It came from her friend’s email address but it obviously wasn’t her friend, because when I paid her a little visit, she hadn’t even sent an email. She was asleep!”
“It wasn’t me.”
“Liar.”
“Do you really think I’d lie? To you? What do you think I’d get out of that, hmm?” The Doctor studied Autumn, fearlessly. “I’ll tell you every move I make against you. I will celebrate every victory. And this really is a victory – look at you.” He recognised Autumn’s vulnerability in seconds. “You know someone’s on your tail and you’re terrified. Come back to me and I’ll decide what to do with you. I can keep you safe.”
“Doctor, what a lovely sentiment. Since you put it so kindly, I’ll offer you a piece of advice. Run.” She looked up at the Doctor, no longer threatened. “Because for what I’m about to do to you… well, you’ll need a head-start.”
“Oh yes, I know about your little show, and don’t think you scare me, Autumn Rivers, don’t ever think that.” He steered the TARDIS, and the hologram flickered a little, reminding him that she was still so far away. “If anyone should be running, it’s you.”
Autumn rolled her eyes. “No pathetic little follower is going to scare me, Doctor.”
“I wasn’t talking about the follower,” stated the Doctor. “I was talking about me.”
“No.” Autumn laughed, but uncertain, no longer able to contain the twinge of fear she felt deep within her. She’d angered the Doctor, perhaps more than anyone ever had before. He was a Time Lord who disregarded the laws of time – a God who could pick up and mould his own creations. And that was terrifying. “No.”
***
UNIT Facility – London
Robin sat in the room, trying to work out what it was. It looked like an interrogation room, with dark walls and a simple table with a chair either side. It felt like an interrogation room; left alone, without the comforts of home. Have I done something wrong?
The door opened. It was the Doctor, in a leather jacket but without his satchel this time. Instead, he carried a glass of water, and placed it on the table between himself and Autumn, taking a seat opposite her. He looked tired, but she’d seen him worse. At least this time he looked like he cared deeply about something – like he was going somewhere.
“I’m sorry this happened to you,” he said.
“Don’t apologise. Please don’t apologise.”
“Do you know what’s going on?”
“I haven’t got a clue.”
The Doctor chuckled quietly. “Maybe that’s for the best. It’s Autumn. I was wrong about her.”
“Please tell me you’re not going to try and save her again.” Robin reached out for the Doctor’s hand. “She doesn’t deserve you. You’ll kill yourself if you carry on pandering to her.”
“I know,” answered the Doctor, calmly. “And that’s why I’m not going to. I’m ending it this time. I think I know what she had planned. She’s the most popular woman in the universe right now and she’s speaking on stage in an arena back in her time. An arena in deep space, of course, and it’s massive. There will be whole worlds turning up. And I think she’s going to expose me.”
“God. But they’ll understand you? You can put your side of the story forward.”
“They love her. Just like I loved her. And they pity her. They’re living in a time when planets are being extinguished as part of procedure and that’s wrong. Autumn is exactly what they need – a conscience. And they’ve taken to her. But now she’s going to expose me and she’s going to start a witch-hunt. She’s turned a quest for social justice into a mob and that’s wrong. I have to stop her, for all their sakes. I don’t want the last great and bountiful human empire to turn into a place run by angry monsters.”
“So what have you got planned?”
“Never underestimate tech support – lights and sound. If they can’t hear her and they can’t see her, she can’t deliver her message. Once I’ve got them turned off, I can get to her easier without exposing myself to the whole known universe. I’ll take her in the TARDIS to somewhere safe, somewhere she can’t hurt anyone or herself. I don’t want to have to control her like that but this can’t end well.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” assured Robin. “I understand.”
“Then there’s you.”
“Me.” Robin sat forwards, preparing for bad news. “I figured I’d fit into this plan of hers.”
“It’s in your future, so they’re not all around us. But there are time pioneers out there, and justice movements, and they’ll come looking for anyone who has anything to do with me. As long as you know me, you’ll at risk, and maybe if Autumn went to kill you she’d even go as far as exposing you.”
“I thought you said she didn’t care about me?”
“And since then you’ve held a knife to her and shown unquestionable loyalty to me. I’ve put you in this situation.” The Doctor pushed the glass of water to Robin’s side of the table. “It contains an amnesia pill,” explained the Doctor. Robin shuddered as she looked into the water, too clear and too clean. “If Autumn’s plan goes successfully I’m sending a message to the head of the operation. When he gets the message, he’ll notify you. You won’t see me again. And more importantly, if you drink this, you won’t remember me either.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you’ll be safe.”
“And what about you?”
“I won’t have to worry about you.” The Doctor smiled sadly. “We’ll explain everything to Mr McKnight, why it had to be done, and why you need his support. Now I need you to promise you’ll take it, for my sake.”
“I promise,” said Robin. She hadn’t decided yet, in truth. She thought she probably wouldn’t – but it mattered to the Doctor, and she’d learnt the greatest duty of being this wonderful man’s companion was to protect him. That was why she despised Autumn.
“This is it, Robin.” The Doctor stood up and straightened his jacket. “It all ends here. Thank you for the last year together. Thank you for showing me who I was… oh, so many times. And thank you for staying by my side until the end. I’ll miss you most of all. And the thing that keeps me going now is the promise that you won’t miss me at all.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” Robin took one last look at him. “If the person you made me into is about to die, then I’d just like you to know that she loved it,” said Robin, tearing up, “and that she wouldn’t change a second of it for the world.”
The Doctor turned away and left, not even looking back as he closed the door.
“Out,” instructed Autumn, taking the man and placing him outside.
“Excuse me,” started the man, who was probably twenty years older than Autumn, “do you have the authority to-“
“Move along.” Autumn slammed the door in his face and turned back to Lord Dalta.
“Autumn!” complained Dalta.
“Sit,” instructed Autumn, without a trace of emotion.
“Now, I-“
“I SAID SIT!”
Autumn’s fury came through in one word which could probably be heard across the corridor, and Lord Dalta sat down at once, trembling, suddenly terribly aware of who was in charge.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” said Autumn, lowering her voice.
“No!” protested Dalta, “I’ve been here the whole time. But if you will go out on spontaneous killing sprees-“
“Oh, so you knew about it!” Autumn laughed irately. “Oh, this is just brilliant. I told you the plan involved one of the Doctor’s friends. If I’m getting revenge on him I have to break him first. But no, you thought you’d go and screw that up for me by tipping her off. Exactly whose side are you on here, Dalta?”
“I understand you hate the Doctor,” replied Dalta, calmly, “but this is people getting caught in the crossfire. That was what you never wanted to happen, but you’ve got so carried away with it you’ve forgotten what you set out to do. But listen to me.” He leant forward. “I did not send that message to Robin. I’ve just been watching you, that’s all, keeping tabs on you. But I’m being honest with you so that you know there’s someone out there who knows about it.”
“I think we can guess who that is.”
***
The TARDIS
Autumn’s hologram reappeared by the console. If the Doctor didn’t know better, he would have thought it was a teleport. She was so real, so defined and powerful. He’d often put her formidable presence down to tangible factors, but now he understood that the authority she held over a room, the sense of being and wonder that came with her was truly her performance alone.
“How did you know?” she asked.
“You tried to kill my friend.” The Doctor approached Autumn, making the most of the extra six centimetres he had over her. “You overstepped the line.”
“How did you know?” Autumn repeated, a little angrier this time.
“I didn’t. She just called me. She’s terrified – of you.”
“Don’t give me that. Someone tipped her off that I was coming. It came from her friend’s email address but it obviously wasn’t her friend, because when I paid her a little visit, she hadn’t even sent an email. She was asleep!”
“It wasn’t me.”
“Liar.”
“Do you really think I’d lie? To you? What do you think I’d get out of that, hmm?” The Doctor studied Autumn, fearlessly. “I’ll tell you every move I make against you. I will celebrate every victory. And this really is a victory – look at you.” He recognised Autumn’s vulnerability in seconds. “You know someone’s on your tail and you’re terrified. Come back to me and I’ll decide what to do with you. I can keep you safe.”
“Doctor, what a lovely sentiment. Since you put it so kindly, I’ll offer you a piece of advice. Run.” She looked up at the Doctor, no longer threatened. “Because for what I’m about to do to you… well, you’ll need a head-start.”
“Oh yes, I know about your little show, and don’t think you scare me, Autumn Rivers, don’t ever think that.” He steered the TARDIS, and the hologram flickered a little, reminding him that she was still so far away. “If anyone should be running, it’s you.”
Autumn rolled her eyes. “No pathetic little follower is going to scare me, Doctor.”
“I wasn’t talking about the follower,” stated the Doctor. “I was talking about me.”
“No.” Autumn laughed, but uncertain, no longer able to contain the twinge of fear she felt deep within her. She’d angered the Doctor, perhaps more than anyone ever had before. He was a Time Lord who disregarded the laws of time – a God who could pick up and mould his own creations. And that was terrifying. “No.”
***
UNIT Facility – London
Robin sat in the room, trying to work out what it was. It looked like an interrogation room, with dark walls and a simple table with a chair either side. It felt like an interrogation room; left alone, without the comforts of home. Have I done something wrong?
The door opened. It was the Doctor, in a leather jacket but without his satchel this time. Instead, he carried a glass of water, and placed it on the table between himself and Autumn, taking a seat opposite her. He looked tired, but she’d seen him worse. At least this time he looked like he cared deeply about something – like he was going somewhere.
“I’m sorry this happened to you,” he said.
“Don’t apologise. Please don’t apologise.”
“Do you know what’s going on?”
“I haven’t got a clue.”
The Doctor chuckled quietly. “Maybe that’s for the best. It’s Autumn. I was wrong about her.”
“Please tell me you’re not going to try and save her again.” Robin reached out for the Doctor’s hand. “She doesn’t deserve you. You’ll kill yourself if you carry on pandering to her.”
“I know,” answered the Doctor, calmly. “And that’s why I’m not going to. I’m ending it this time. I think I know what she had planned. She’s the most popular woman in the universe right now and she’s speaking on stage in an arena back in her time. An arena in deep space, of course, and it’s massive. There will be whole worlds turning up. And I think she’s going to expose me.”
“God. But they’ll understand you? You can put your side of the story forward.”
“They love her. Just like I loved her. And they pity her. They’re living in a time when planets are being extinguished as part of procedure and that’s wrong. Autumn is exactly what they need – a conscience. And they’ve taken to her. But now she’s going to expose me and she’s going to start a witch-hunt. She’s turned a quest for social justice into a mob and that’s wrong. I have to stop her, for all their sakes. I don’t want the last great and bountiful human empire to turn into a place run by angry monsters.”
“So what have you got planned?”
“Never underestimate tech support – lights and sound. If they can’t hear her and they can’t see her, she can’t deliver her message. Once I’ve got them turned off, I can get to her easier without exposing myself to the whole known universe. I’ll take her in the TARDIS to somewhere safe, somewhere she can’t hurt anyone or herself. I don’t want to have to control her like that but this can’t end well.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” assured Robin. “I understand.”
“Then there’s you.”
“Me.” Robin sat forwards, preparing for bad news. “I figured I’d fit into this plan of hers.”
“It’s in your future, so they’re not all around us. But there are time pioneers out there, and justice movements, and they’ll come looking for anyone who has anything to do with me. As long as you know me, you’ll at risk, and maybe if Autumn went to kill you she’d even go as far as exposing you.”
“I thought you said she didn’t care about me?”
“And since then you’ve held a knife to her and shown unquestionable loyalty to me. I’ve put you in this situation.” The Doctor pushed the glass of water to Robin’s side of the table. “It contains an amnesia pill,” explained the Doctor. Robin shuddered as she looked into the water, too clear and too clean. “If Autumn’s plan goes successfully I’m sending a message to the head of the operation. When he gets the message, he’ll notify you. You won’t see me again. And more importantly, if you drink this, you won’t remember me either.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you’ll be safe.”
“And what about you?”
“I won’t have to worry about you.” The Doctor smiled sadly. “We’ll explain everything to Mr McKnight, why it had to be done, and why you need his support. Now I need you to promise you’ll take it, for my sake.”
“I promise,” said Robin. She hadn’t decided yet, in truth. She thought she probably wouldn’t – but it mattered to the Doctor, and she’d learnt the greatest duty of being this wonderful man’s companion was to protect him. That was why she despised Autumn.
“This is it, Robin.” The Doctor stood up and straightened his jacket. “It all ends here. Thank you for the last year together. Thank you for showing me who I was… oh, so many times. And thank you for staying by my side until the end. I’ll miss you most of all. And the thing that keeps me going now is the promise that you won’t miss me at all.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” Robin took one last look at him. “If the person you made me into is about to die, then I’d just like you to know that she loved it,” said Robin, tearing up, “and that she wouldn’t change a second of it for the world.”
The Doctor turned away and left, not even looking back as he closed the door.
The Arena – The Eighth Great and Bountiful Human Empire
Autumn sat in her dressing-room, at the top of the tower outside the arena. Once used for mass sporting events, the structure seemed to go back for miles, with a capacity for several million standing – the single largest arena in the known universe. Above it, the empire hung in alignment like a chandelier, providing light and comfort for the big… well, whatever this was. Enlightenment? Justice?
Autumn looked up into space, back down at the arena, and then at her own reflection, at the intricate but subtle construction of her hairpiece, and at the now warm complexion of her face, feeling for once satisfied with what she saw. She looked then to the clock, realising how late it was. She was always sharper at night. Autumn’s mind was free, and she began to ask herself questions.
What will their lasting memory of me be?
Would they have nicknames they’d come to use? Would she become recognisable from some statue in a faraway temple, through history books, or would her name not be known to anyone at all? Would it be Lord Dalta and Lord Dalta alone who was famous, finally getting the acknowledgement he deserved? She wasn’t sure which she hoped.
But she knew this was it – she knew the lasting memory was formed here, today. She knew it had already happened, and was already happening. By travelling through time, she’d come to understand this. All things had happened, and she’d witnessed the consequences herself. She’d already walked over her legacy, maybe past a statue or a t-shirt with her face on it, or a pamphlet in a drain, the last remnant of the last person who ever cared about her. Maybe she’d seen her own grave. It was all set in stone.
Or was it? That had occurred to her too. She still had free will. She could change her mind. How did time know what she’d decide? If she’d seen the future and understood it, she could go back and change it. If she knew a man who lived, she could go back and kill him. So why would this be any different? What if she really was changing time? That thought inspired her as she got up and slipped on her heels.
I am writing the past, the present and the future – and I am writing one name.
***
This is it, Autumn said to herself. The last piece of the puzzle. Then you’ll be free of him forever.
With a resplendent brass fanfare, Autumn made her entrance, stepping out from an under-stair-closet-like darkness onto a stage with more eyes on it than anywhere across the universe right now. She wondered if the Doctor was somewhere in that crowd.
She continued to walk forwards, feeling the spotlight on herself. Explosions sounded around her – all planned – and a wall of fire rose up either side. Sparks flew up from the floor. As one woman amid the spectacle and all those other bright, magnificent lives, Autumn began to understand how small she was. Yet correspondingly, she understood how important she was – the only one there who mattered. The one whose words were heard, without people waiting for their say, like some sort of Gospel. The speaker of truth. That was, after all, her duty.
It was terrible. Her situation was terrible, her knowledge was terrible, and some of her actions worse. But standing here on the stage, she loved it. She felt like something. She felt… right. She felt like Autumn Rivers, and for once she knew who Autumn Rivers was.
“HELLO UNIVERSE!” she cried out, with a burst of confidence. She was met with universal applause. When her audience calmed – and she took her time – she spoke.
“I made a promise to you that you would learn the truth. That’s why I’m here today, and for no other reason. For justice and for knowledge – because knowing makes us a better society. And it’s time that we knew.”
***
The Doctor paid half-attention to Autumn’s speech as he looked for the right switches. He had to get it in one go, or security would be alerted by whatever else he changed.
“Nearly four years ago, I lost my planet.”
The Doctor bowed his head sadly, slowing up slightly. Sometimes he forgot. Whatever Autumn had done, and however much she’d betrayed him, she lost her world. He couldn’t imagine what that would do to someone; what it would turn them into.
“Don’t worry Autumn,” he vowed quietly. “I’m going to stop you but I’m going to make you better.”
He’d take her to a planet somewhere where she’d be looked after – somewhere to grieve without the power the Doctor had offered her. She could be good… couldn’t she? The Doctor had asked himself that question for four years, and held onto hope for so long. But that last betrayal turned it all against him.
He realised – four years. He’d spent the same amount of time in the Dalek camp as Autumn had spent in her spaceship and on-board the Epicurus, waiting for him. The amount of time since Autumn had first turned against him – entirely reasonably – was the same amount of time since he’d let Valerie sanction the destruction of Autumn’s planet. And it still felt recent. Not so recent he was coming to terms with it, of course; he’d accepted what had happened, and maybe Autumn had too, maybe that was the last straw.
I’m not going to let you do this, Autumn. For once, the damage would be irreparable. He found the switch and pulled out his sonic screwdriver, just as his arms were grabbed and it slipped out of his hand as he fell backwards onto the bulk of a security guard.
“And over the course of those four years, I finally learnt the truth about why it happened.”
***
“First, I’d like to bring a man called Lord Dalta into the picture. Lord Dalta, are you…?”
Autumn searched the audience for him. Eventually, a spotlight found him for her, a little agitated, but well-presented nonetheless.
“I should apologise,” said Autumn. “I hadn’t informed the Lord over here that I’d be mentioning him, but I think he deserves recognition. It was Lord Dalta who funded this whole project, hence this being its home. And because of the actions of the Epicurus – genocide – being ruled out in this part of the Empire, I’ve received more support than I could ever have dreamed of, not just from all of you but from Dalta himself. He provided me with inside information, with sources and with the opportunity to tell all of you.”
The spotlight moved off him, once everyone had had a good look at his young, almost plastic face. Autumn gave him a last nod of thanks.
“I’ve spoken before many times about the day it happened. Powerful men around the room, casting votes, and it was a decider of one vote. It was carried out as procedure, but nonetheless, it was one vote that sold it in the end. The vote of a dangerous man with no right to cast it. A man who knew nothing about my world and what it was worth.”
***
“I know that man, better than anyone else in the universe. And I know his name.”
The Doctor sighed. He’d lost. He thought he could break free of the security guard since he’d appeared to give up, but another was standing at the controls. There was no way he’d be able to get to the controls, or even his sonic, which had been placed in a zipped back at the door. There was only one thing he could do.
In his pocket, just slightly out of his reach at the moment – easy enough to get to – was the phone UNIT had provided him, worked before his arrival with some jiggery-pokery. Knowing he’d be rushing off in a hurry, he had the text ready to send.
We’ve lost.
It was the last thing he could do – saving one life, the last one he could. The one whose world he destroyed but who forgave him anyway. And it would be a final acknowledgement of his defeat.
The Doctor wrestled out of the security guard’s grip, grabbed the phone and pressed Send. As he was grabbed again, jerked into a tighter position, the phone dropped to the floor. But as it rolled over, on the cracked screen, he could read the one thing he wanted to see.
Sent.
***
“And I know that man is in this building.”
Autumn looked around her, sensing exactly where he was. The crowd was silent, pin-drop silent, but she could hear her heart beating. She hoped that wasn’t reflected by the microphone.
“His name…”
She paused.
Do I have the right? To proclaim my knowledge as the truth, to condemn him for the rest of his life? Do I have the right to administer justice on behalf of not just my world, but the whole universe?
Autumn considered.
Maybe not – but I want to.
Autumn sat in her dressing-room, at the top of the tower outside the arena. Once used for mass sporting events, the structure seemed to go back for miles, with a capacity for several million standing – the single largest arena in the known universe. Above it, the empire hung in alignment like a chandelier, providing light and comfort for the big… well, whatever this was. Enlightenment? Justice?
Autumn looked up into space, back down at the arena, and then at her own reflection, at the intricate but subtle construction of her hairpiece, and at the now warm complexion of her face, feeling for once satisfied with what she saw. She looked then to the clock, realising how late it was. She was always sharper at night. Autumn’s mind was free, and she began to ask herself questions.
What will their lasting memory of me be?
Would they have nicknames they’d come to use? Would she become recognisable from some statue in a faraway temple, through history books, or would her name not be known to anyone at all? Would it be Lord Dalta and Lord Dalta alone who was famous, finally getting the acknowledgement he deserved? She wasn’t sure which she hoped.
But she knew this was it – she knew the lasting memory was formed here, today. She knew it had already happened, and was already happening. By travelling through time, she’d come to understand this. All things had happened, and she’d witnessed the consequences herself. She’d already walked over her legacy, maybe past a statue or a t-shirt with her face on it, or a pamphlet in a drain, the last remnant of the last person who ever cared about her. Maybe she’d seen her own grave. It was all set in stone.
Or was it? That had occurred to her too. She still had free will. She could change her mind. How did time know what she’d decide? If she’d seen the future and understood it, she could go back and change it. If she knew a man who lived, she could go back and kill him. So why would this be any different? What if she really was changing time? That thought inspired her as she got up and slipped on her heels.
I am writing the past, the present and the future – and I am writing one name.
***
This is it, Autumn said to herself. The last piece of the puzzle. Then you’ll be free of him forever.
With a resplendent brass fanfare, Autumn made her entrance, stepping out from an under-stair-closet-like darkness onto a stage with more eyes on it than anywhere across the universe right now. She wondered if the Doctor was somewhere in that crowd.
She continued to walk forwards, feeling the spotlight on herself. Explosions sounded around her – all planned – and a wall of fire rose up either side. Sparks flew up from the floor. As one woman amid the spectacle and all those other bright, magnificent lives, Autumn began to understand how small she was. Yet correspondingly, she understood how important she was – the only one there who mattered. The one whose words were heard, without people waiting for their say, like some sort of Gospel. The speaker of truth. That was, after all, her duty.
It was terrible. Her situation was terrible, her knowledge was terrible, and some of her actions worse. But standing here on the stage, she loved it. She felt like something. She felt… right. She felt like Autumn Rivers, and for once she knew who Autumn Rivers was.
“HELLO UNIVERSE!” she cried out, with a burst of confidence. She was met with universal applause. When her audience calmed – and she took her time – she spoke.
“I made a promise to you that you would learn the truth. That’s why I’m here today, and for no other reason. For justice and for knowledge – because knowing makes us a better society. And it’s time that we knew.”
***
The Doctor paid half-attention to Autumn’s speech as he looked for the right switches. He had to get it in one go, or security would be alerted by whatever else he changed.
“Nearly four years ago, I lost my planet.”
The Doctor bowed his head sadly, slowing up slightly. Sometimes he forgot. Whatever Autumn had done, and however much she’d betrayed him, she lost her world. He couldn’t imagine what that would do to someone; what it would turn them into.
“Don’t worry Autumn,” he vowed quietly. “I’m going to stop you but I’m going to make you better.”
He’d take her to a planet somewhere where she’d be looked after – somewhere to grieve without the power the Doctor had offered her. She could be good… couldn’t she? The Doctor had asked himself that question for four years, and held onto hope for so long. But that last betrayal turned it all against him.
He realised – four years. He’d spent the same amount of time in the Dalek camp as Autumn had spent in her spaceship and on-board the Epicurus, waiting for him. The amount of time since Autumn had first turned against him – entirely reasonably – was the same amount of time since he’d let Valerie sanction the destruction of Autumn’s planet. And it still felt recent. Not so recent he was coming to terms with it, of course; he’d accepted what had happened, and maybe Autumn had too, maybe that was the last straw.
I’m not going to let you do this, Autumn. For once, the damage would be irreparable. He found the switch and pulled out his sonic screwdriver, just as his arms were grabbed and it slipped out of his hand as he fell backwards onto the bulk of a security guard.
“And over the course of those four years, I finally learnt the truth about why it happened.”
***
“First, I’d like to bring a man called Lord Dalta into the picture. Lord Dalta, are you…?”
Autumn searched the audience for him. Eventually, a spotlight found him for her, a little agitated, but well-presented nonetheless.
“I should apologise,” said Autumn. “I hadn’t informed the Lord over here that I’d be mentioning him, but I think he deserves recognition. It was Lord Dalta who funded this whole project, hence this being its home. And because of the actions of the Epicurus – genocide – being ruled out in this part of the Empire, I’ve received more support than I could ever have dreamed of, not just from all of you but from Dalta himself. He provided me with inside information, with sources and with the opportunity to tell all of you.”
The spotlight moved off him, once everyone had had a good look at his young, almost plastic face. Autumn gave him a last nod of thanks.
“I’ve spoken before many times about the day it happened. Powerful men around the room, casting votes, and it was a decider of one vote. It was carried out as procedure, but nonetheless, it was one vote that sold it in the end. The vote of a dangerous man with no right to cast it. A man who knew nothing about my world and what it was worth.”
***
“I know that man, better than anyone else in the universe. And I know his name.”
The Doctor sighed. He’d lost. He thought he could break free of the security guard since he’d appeared to give up, but another was standing at the controls. There was no way he’d be able to get to the controls, or even his sonic, which had been placed in a zipped back at the door. There was only one thing he could do.
In his pocket, just slightly out of his reach at the moment – easy enough to get to – was the phone UNIT had provided him, worked before his arrival with some jiggery-pokery. Knowing he’d be rushing off in a hurry, he had the text ready to send.
We’ve lost.
It was the last thing he could do – saving one life, the last one he could. The one whose world he destroyed but who forgave him anyway. And it would be a final acknowledgement of his defeat.
The Doctor wrestled out of the security guard’s grip, grabbed the phone and pressed Send. As he was grabbed again, jerked into a tighter position, the phone dropped to the floor. But as it rolled over, on the cracked screen, he could read the one thing he wanted to see.
Sent.
***
“And I know that man is in this building.”
Autumn looked around her, sensing exactly where he was. The crowd was silent, pin-drop silent, but she could hear her heart beating. She hoped that wasn’t reflected by the microphone.
“His name…”
She paused.
Do I have the right? To proclaim my knowledge as the truth, to condemn him for the rest of his life? Do I have the right to administer justice on behalf of not just my world, but the whole universe?
Autumn considered.
Maybe not – but I want to.
“His name…”
She smiled, knowing someone else in the building was about to do exactly the same.
“His name is Lord Dalta.”
The crowd gasped, and some genius in lighting turned the spotlight back on Lord Dalta. They already knew where he was, leaving him no time to escape.
Dalta raised his hand and spoke into a wrist device.
“Someone turn off the lights!” he urged. “Get me out of here now!”
Dalta’s own bodyguards assisted him, but the whole arena was against him, blocking all the exits. The rest of the bodyguards were busy stopping the larger and more aggressive members of the crowd killing the man on the spot.
Autumn stood and watched. She was right – she’d written history. This was it for her, Lord Dalta would be the one acknowledged. She was sure of it now – his name would be written in history books.
The Doctor also watched, agape, as the security guards loosened their grip, too captivated to pay any attention to the Doctor. He’d need it all explaining to him, but the Doctor sensed that what had just happened was, somehow, a very good thing.
***
“Explain.”
After his second week in prison, Lord Dalta had been promised a visitor, and knew instantly who it would be. Autumn Rivers sat opposite him in this simple, concrete room. The inside of prisons that prisoners saw had not developed since the olden days – well, why would they? And how could they? The point of prisons was to stay still.
“After two weeks, you still can’t wrap your head around it?” asked Autumn. She checked that Dalta was secure. He’d been handcuffed into place in case he tried anything. In spite of her psychological awareness, Autumn could not predict how Dalta would react to her unexpected turn.
“I don’t understand any of it.” Lord Dalta scowled. “And believe me, I’ve tried.”
“Firstly, let me just explain how I knew about you, ‘Lord’ Dalta. The TARDIS showed me all of time and space – well, all of it that was relevant. And I was present for the conference. That was how I forgave the Doctor, seeing how it really went. I recognised the other men – you’d given me their names. Most of them died in accidents – rather coincidental, I’d say – and the rest I’d dealt with myself, under your guidance. Staligon I knew and condoned. I saw the loss of his lifetime work as enough of a punishment. There was the Doctor as well, and Valerie. And then there was another who I didn’t recognise at all. I thought that was strange, so now being connected to the TARDIS like any other traveller, I plugged myself in to the psychic circuits, and found the face that way. No older pictures – the man vanished. But I knew his face.”
She looked deeply into Lord Dalta’s eyes. “I’ve always been good at recognising eyes. The shape of the face was different, but again, I recognised other things. His mannerisms. The characteristic things that can’t change. And of course, your plastic surgery has always been obvious, but I never thought I’d mention it. I assumed you had an accident. In reality, the reason for it being so conspicuous because it was a rush job – done illegally because you’d be arrested. At least sanctioning my planet’s destruction was legal in Stalgion’s part of space. In yours it wasn’t, so you had to disappear. As soon as the case became relevant, you vanished and took on a new identity. You’d have been arrested back home for your participation. That was why you got rid of all the others. Didn’t want anyone finding you, did you? After all, memory was the last thing to be erased. Then you played on my misfortune. But you never cared about me - you even tried to kill me on Christmas Day.” Lord Dalta was startled. "Oh, come on, I worked out you were behind the crystalberries after the first ten minutes. At least I can finally explain to the Doctor now," she joked, "and he might even let me have some Christmas decorations next year."
“So all of this,” uttered Lord Dalta, “all of it, was a plan to set me up?”
“To set you up, and to save the Doctor. I had to be careful, more careful than perhaps you realised. You were determined to have him killed, and I knew you were keeping tabs on me. I saw you intercept the Doctor’s hologram in the TARDIS, at which point I knew you would be able to see all of our conversations, with the transmission still running. You managed to kill all the others, and I knew you’d find the Doctor too, or worse tip off the Daleks, using my location. The only way to protect him was to pretend I had a plan for him, otherwise he’d have been dead in a day – wouldn’t he?”
“Yes,” confessed Lord Dalta, without a sign of regret. “Yes, he would have.”
“So while I formulated a way to save him, I kept you up to speed, explaining my plan. It would be perfect for you, completely taking you out of the limelight. Exposing the last perpetrator and ending the case. I promised you I’d protect your name, and you knew the public liked me. That was why you became my benefactor. The last stage was that the Doctor had to believe too. So I allowed you to continue intercepting the holograms.”
“You mean you staged the whole thing?” Lord Dalta shook his head in disbelief. “The attempt on Robin’s life? Your confrontation with the Doctor?”
“I thought you might have doubts – worry about the plan being too risky. The Doctor was exposed. You might have arranged a little accident for him too, just in time for my show. So I pretended I thought you couldn’t see, and used the attempt on Robin’s life to fuel our animosity and to keep him safe – to make you believe there was someone sensible measuring damage control, to believe that there was no going back for me or the Doctor – that we definitely weren’t working together – to keep him safe for a time, and to be doubly sure that I didn’t know about your plan.”
“In which case, you must know it wasn’t me who tipped off Robin. But you said the Doctor didn’t know for his own protection – so it can’t have been him either.”
“Wasn’t that obvious?” Autumn laughed. “It was me. I did indeed pay Claire a little visit – but before stopping off at the house. I logged onto the computer and sent the email, leaving just enough time for Robin to escape. Enough time for her to call the Doctor, occupying him on Earth, where I could watch him carefully, and inside a UNIT facility, where he was at his safest.”
“I understand.” Dalta sat back, almost satisfied. “I understand how you did it. But one more thing – why? You put that man inside a Dalek Camp. Why go to such lengths for him? He hated you in the end.”
“His feelings were irrelevant,” said Autumn, getting up and preparing to leave. She always entered and left on her own terms. “He’d already served his sentence. And if the vortex showed me one thing, it was that he’d done an extraordinary amount of community service.”
“So this is it?” Dalta tried to stand, but was pulled back down by his handcuffs, sending a jolt up his spine. He sat down and give it a massage with his free hand. “You’re travelling with him again? You two? The killer and the one who took revenge on him? Do you really think that can work?”
“Come on, Lord Dalta. Mr Dalta. Prisoner Nine Hundred.” She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him across the table, whispering in his ear. “Did you really expect me to settle down into an ordinary relationship?”
***
She smiled, knowing someone else in the building was about to do exactly the same.
“His name is Lord Dalta.”
The crowd gasped, and some genius in lighting turned the spotlight back on Lord Dalta. They already knew where he was, leaving him no time to escape.
Dalta raised his hand and spoke into a wrist device.
“Someone turn off the lights!” he urged. “Get me out of here now!”
Dalta’s own bodyguards assisted him, but the whole arena was against him, blocking all the exits. The rest of the bodyguards were busy stopping the larger and more aggressive members of the crowd killing the man on the spot.
Autumn stood and watched. She was right – she’d written history. This was it for her, Lord Dalta would be the one acknowledged. She was sure of it now – his name would be written in history books.
The Doctor also watched, agape, as the security guards loosened their grip, too captivated to pay any attention to the Doctor. He’d need it all explaining to him, but the Doctor sensed that what had just happened was, somehow, a very good thing.
***
“Explain.”
After his second week in prison, Lord Dalta had been promised a visitor, and knew instantly who it would be. Autumn Rivers sat opposite him in this simple, concrete room. The inside of prisons that prisoners saw had not developed since the olden days – well, why would they? And how could they? The point of prisons was to stay still.
“After two weeks, you still can’t wrap your head around it?” asked Autumn. She checked that Dalta was secure. He’d been handcuffed into place in case he tried anything. In spite of her psychological awareness, Autumn could not predict how Dalta would react to her unexpected turn.
“I don’t understand any of it.” Lord Dalta scowled. “And believe me, I’ve tried.”
“Firstly, let me just explain how I knew about you, ‘Lord’ Dalta. The TARDIS showed me all of time and space – well, all of it that was relevant. And I was present for the conference. That was how I forgave the Doctor, seeing how it really went. I recognised the other men – you’d given me their names. Most of them died in accidents – rather coincidental, I’d say – and the rest I’d dealt with myself, under your guidance. Staligon I knew and condoned. I saw the loss of his lifetime work as enough of a punishment. There was the Doctor as well, and Valerie. And then there was another who I didn’t recognise at all. I thought that was strange, so now being connected to the TARDIS like any other traveller, I plugged myself in to the psychic circuits, and found the face that way. No older pictures – the man vanished. But I knew his face.”
She looked deeply into Lord Dalta’s eyes. “I’ve always been good at recognising eyes. The shape of the face was different, but again, I recognised other things. His mannerisms. The characteristic things that can’t change. And of course, your plastic surgery has always been obvious, but I never thought I’d mention it. I assumed you had an accident. In reality, the reason for it being so conspicuous because it was a rush job – done illegally because you’d be arrested. At least sanctioning my planet’s destruction was legal in Stalgion’s part of space. In yours it wasn’t, so you had to disappear. As soon as the case became relevant, you vanished and took on a new identity. You’d have been arrested back home for your participation. That was why you got rid of all the others. Didn’t want anyone finding you, did you? After all, memory was the last thing to be erased. Then you played on my misfortune. But you never cared about me - you even tried to kill me on Christmas Day.” Lord Dalta was startled. "Oh, come on, I worked out you were behind the crystalberries after the first ten minutes. At least I can finally explain to the Doctor now," she joked, "and he might even let me have some Christmas decorations next year."
“So all of this,” uttered Lord Dalta, “all of it, was a plan to set me up?”
“To set you up, and to save the Doctor. I had to be careful, more careful than perhaps you realised. You were determined to have him killed, and I knew you were keeping tabs on me. I saw you intercept the Doctor’s hologram in the TARDIS, at which point I knew you would be able to see all of our conversations, with the transmission still running. You managed to kill all the others, and I knew you’d find the Doctor too, or worse tip off the Daleks, using my location. The only way to protect him was to pretend I had a plan for him, otherwise he’d have been dead in a day – wouldn’t he?”
“Yes,” confessed Lord Dalta, without a sign of regret. “Yes, he would have.”
“So while I formulated a way to save him, I kept you up to speed, explaining my plan. It would be perfect for you, completely taking you out of the limelight. Exposing the last perpetrator and ending the case. I promised you I’d protect your name, and you knew the public liked me. That was why you became my benefactor. The last stage was that the Doctor had to believe too. So I allowed you to continue intercepting the holograms.”
“You mean you staged the whole thing?” Lord Dalta shook his head in disbelief. “The attempt on Robin’s life? Your confrontation with the Doctor?”
“I thought you might have doubts – worry about the plan being too risky. The Doctor was exposed. You might have arranged a little accident for him too, just in time for my show. So I pretended I thought you couldn’t see, and used the attempt on Robin’s life to fuel our animosity and to keep him safe – to make you believe there was someone sensible measuring damage control, to believe that there was no going back for me or the Doctor – that we definitely weren’t working together – to keep him safe for a time, and to be doubly sure that I didn’t know about your plan.”
“In which case, you must know it wasn’t me who tipped off Robin. But you said the Doctor didn’t know for his own protection – so it can’t have been him either.”
“Wasn’t that obvious?” Autumn laughed. “It was me. I did indeed pay Claire a little visit – but before stopping off at the house. I logged onto the computer and sent the email, leaving just enough time for Robin to escape. Enough time for her to call the Doctor, occupying him on Earth, where I could watch him carefully, and inside a UNIT facility, where he was at his safest.”
“I understand.” Dalta sat back, almost satisfied. “I understand how you did it. But one more thing – why? You put that man inside a Dalek Camp. Why go to such lengths for him? He hated you in the end.”
“His feelings were irrelevant,” said Autumn, getting up and preparing to leave. She always entered and left on her own terms. “He’d already served his sentence. And if the vortex showed me one thing, it was that he’d done an extraordinary amount of community service.”
“So this is it?” Dalta tried to stand, but was pulled back down by his handcuffs, sending a jolt up his spine. He sat down and give it a massage with his free hand. “You’re travelling with him again? You two? The killer and the one who took revenge on him? Do you really think that can work?”
“Come on, Lord Dalta. Mr Dalta. Prisoner Nine Hundred.” She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him across the table, whispering in his ear. “Did you really expect me to settle down into an ordinary relationship?”
***
The Doctor had won. He’d given Autumn so many chances she’d thrown back in his face, and the one time he decided she was wrong, he’d underestimated her. He didn’t understand how or why yet, but she’d saved his life and condemned a criminal.
But there was a cost. He wasn’t sure whose fault it was. Of course, Autumn could never have calculated it – she was clever; a genius, even, but not God. There were some things which one could never see coming. And one of those was Robin. The Doctor had to see her one last time, even though she wouldn’t remember him. He had to say farewell, even if to her, it was just a seeya.
He knocked on the door. Robin took a bit longer than usual. He would have expected her to have taken longer out of caution, but he figured instead that everything was slower now – she was getting used to living again. Remembering where things were, how things happened, how she reacted to them. That pill could have done so many things. His only reassurance was that she would have been safe, she would have given consented to taking it, and she wouldn’t be alone in facing the consequences.
She opened the door and stared at him blankly, keeping the door slightly ajar, as if reacting to a salesman.
“Robin…” murmured the Doctor. He couldn’t help himself; he had to be the Doctor, not a stranger.
“Sorry…” Robin looked puzzled. “Do I know you?”
The Doctor’s heart dropped.
“…Because for a moment, I thought you might be the Doctor.”
The Doctor looked up. How?
“You didn’t take the pill?”
“Of course I didn’t. I just phoned Chris and told him to stay away.”
“You’d have been in danger!” Despite being proud to see her, the Doctor had involuntarily started a lecture.
“Better than the alternative.” Robin sighed. Why did he never understand? “I’d have forgotten you, Doctor. And yes, in places, maybe that could have helped. But I’d have forgotten the last time I ever saw my son. I’d have forgotten the day you changed the way I saw the world forever. I’d have forgotten mistakes I learnt from. And I’d have forgotten all our wonderful adventures together.” She shook her head. “Oh, come here you daft old idiot,” she said, embracing the Doctor in a hug, “I’ll never forget you as long as I live because I don’t want to!” She let go and collected herself. “Now, never mind me. There’s someone here who wants to see you.”
The Doctor raised an eyebrow.
“And yes,” continued Robin, “she apologised to me first.”
Robin moved out the way, and at the end of that warm, cosy hallway stood Autumn Rivers, still dressed as she was for her performance – spectacularly beautiful. The Doctor could see that beauty in her now. Not that he found her attractive – no, attractive wasn’t the word he’d use. But beautiful. A natural phenomenon. He stepped inside.
“Autumn…” The Doctor was lost for words.
“Sshh,” ordered Autumn. She knew he’d apologise or something ridiculous like that. “I just need one thing from you. One answer, do you understand, then we can discuss everything?”
The Doctor nodded.
Autumn looked back at him, and broke into a grin. “Adventures?”
Robin watched, wiping a tear from her eye. For once, there was no sadness, not even bittersweet. Nothing to look back on, nothing to mourn, nothing to celebrate long after its time. Just two people reunited after their differences.
“Yes,” answered the Doctor, holding out his hand. “For the rest of our lives.”
But there was a cost. He wasn’t sure whose fault it was. Of course, Autumn could never have calculated it – she was clever; a genius, even, but not God. There were some things which one could never see coming. And one of those was Robin. The Doctor had to see her one last time, even though she wouldn’t remember him. He had to say farewell, even if to her, it was just a seeya.
He knocked on the door. Robin took a bit longer than usual. He would have expected her to have taken longer out of caution, but he figured instead that everything was slower now – she was getting used to living again. Remembering where things were, how things happened, how she reacted to them. That pill could have done so many things. His only reassurance was that she would have been safe, she would have given consented to taking it, and she wouldn’t be alone in facing the consequences.
She opened the door and stared at him blankly, keeping the door slightly ajar, as if reacting to a salesman.
“Robin…” murmured the Doctor. He couldn’t help himself; he had to be the Doctor, not a stranger.
“Sorry…” Robin looked puzzled. “Do I know you?”
The Doctor’s heart dropped.
“…Because for a moment, I thought you might be the Doctor.”
The Doctor looked up. How?
“You didn’t take the pill?”
“Of course I didn’t. I just phoned Chris and told him to stay away.”
“You’d have been in danger!” Despite being proud to see her, the Doctor had involuntarily started a lecture.
“Better than the alternative.” Robin sighed. Why did he never understand? “I’d have forgotten you, Doctor. And yes, in places, maybe that could have helped. But I’d have forgotten the last time I ever saw my son. I’d have forgotten the day you changed the way I saw the world forever. I’d have forgotten mistakes I learnt from. And I’d have forgotten all our wonderful adventures together.” She shook her head. “Oh, come here you daft old idiot,” she said, embracing the Doctor in a hug, “I’ll never forget you as long as I live because I don’t want to!” She let go and collected herself. “Now, never mind me. There’s someone here who wants to see you.”
The Doctor raised an eyebrow.
“And yes,” continued Robin, “she apologised to me first.”
Robin moved out the way, and at the end of that warm, cosy hallway stood Autumn Rivers, still dressed as she was for her performance – spectacularly beautiful. The Doctor could see that beauty in her now. Not that he found her attractive – no, attractive wasn’t the word he’d use. But beautiful. A natural phenomenon. He stepped inside.
“Autumn…” The Doctor was lost for words.
“Sshh,” ordered Autumn. She knew he’d apologise or something ridiculous like that. “I just need one thing from you. One answer, do you understand, then we can discuss everything?”
The Doctor nodded.
Autumn looked back at him, and broke into a grin. “Adventures?”
Robin watched, wiping a tear from her eye. For once, there was no sadness, not even bittersweet. Nothing to look back on, nothing to mourn, nothing to celebrate long after its time. Just two people reunited after their differences.
“Yes,” answered the Doctor, holding out his hand. “For the rest of our lives.”
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