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Title: Redemption 34/?
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
katherine_b
Rating: PG
Summary: When you have lost everything, what do you do to get it back?
Characters: The non-Doctor first glimpsed at the end of Name of the Doctor and a lot of old friends.
Part XXXIV
“Oh, wow!” Dorabella stares around her at the ancient buildings as the three people leave the tardis to find themselves in the middle of St Mark’s Square. She grabs the Time Lord’s arm in a tight squeeze. “Oh, Vadlott, I always dreamed of coming here!”
“It’s beautiful!” agrees Edwin. “Just like in the postcards! But,” he turns to the other man, “why are we here?”
“For a less-than-beautiful reason,” the Vadlott is forced to admit. “The tardis has reported that people are disappearing. We’re here to find out why.”
“They’ve certainly done that,” agrees Edwin, looking around. “There’s not a single person here, and it’s the middle of the day! Where is everyone?”
“That’s an excellent question,” the Vadlott murmurs, pulling out the device he built that gives him life-signs within a fixed area. He had thought it was set to a specific alien wavelength, or at the very least had a crossed wire, but he is astonished to find that it is reading correctly, and that other than the three of them, it is reading only one life-sign – in the closest canal, only a short distance away from where they are standing.
“And what is it?” demands Edwin once the Vadlott points this out to them.
“Hungry,” the Time Lord replies as they cross the ground towards the water. “When I first got the message from the tardis, there were three of them. Now there’s only one, so my guess is that, whatever it is, it’s turned cannibal.”
Dorabella pales a little. “And the people who were disappearing?”
“Now we know where they went,” the Vadlott says briskly. “The only question is – what’s in that canal?”
“And how we are going to get rid of it,” corrects Edwin. “Which would be two questions.”
“Yes, fair point.” The Vadlott thinks to himself that a reasonable third question would be how it got in the canal in the first place, but since he has no way of answering that, he decides to leave it for now. “But I’m hoping the answer to question one will give me a hint about question two.”
He fiddles with a few of the buttons on his detection device, wishing he had got around to making that sonic screwdriver. This is not nearly as good. Still, it will have to do, and by linking it back to the tardis’ databanks, he gets the answers he needed.
“Saturnynian?” He stares in bewilderment at the water, seeing what looks like a dark shape beneath the waves. “An infant. Not capable of existing out of the water. But what is it doing here?”
“What’s a Saturnynian?” ask Dorabella and Edwin at the same moment.
“A being from the planet Saturnyne. Three-quarters fish with a humanoid torso. Adults can live out of water for a period of time, using perception filters to hide their true selves in case of need, but adolescents can’t. I’m guessing,” he muses, tapping his detector thoughtfully against the palm of his other hand, “the adults are responsible for all those missing people. Trying to repopulate their species. The girls that vanished were taken in to their little community and converted. Anyone else who accidentally fell into the canal was fish-food.”
“But why would they need to repopulate the species on Earth?” asks Edwin. “What’s wrong with their home planet?”
“Another very good question.” The Vadlott frowns. “I don’t know. Nor do I know a way to save this Saturnynian. Any transmat would leave it out of water for too long. But if it stays there, it will starve to death.”
“A mercy killing?” suggests Edwin quietly.
“It might be the kindest thing to do,” admits the Time Lord. “Otherwise it’s going to suffer. The only question is the method.”
“Allow me,” says Edwin.
Before the Vadlott can stop him, he moves to the edge of the canal and strips off his sock and shoe, revealing a robotic foot. The Time Lord understands what he is planning and takes Dorabella’s arm when she would move forward.
“He knows what he’s doing,” he says softly.
“How?” she demands.
“Because he’s clever,” he promises, watching as Edwin rolls up his trouser leg and then dips his foot into the water.
Instantly there is a swirl of water, and the Vadlott has to stop Dorabella running forward. At the same moment, a spark of electricity darts from Edwin’s chest, flashing through his shirt, and down his leg to his foot, which has disappeared under the waves.
The Saturnynian jerks reflexively as the electricity hits it, arching briefly out of the water, its eyes wide and glassy, before dropping back down with a splash. As the Vadlott takes a step forward, releasing his hold on Dorabella, he can see it sinking into the murky depths of the canal. A merciful end for a pitiless creature.
Edwin, meanwhile, is looking ruefully at the dent in his foot, caused by the creature’s teeth, which managed to get a brief hold.
“I hope the tardis will know what to do when she gets to that bit,” he says to the Vadlott.
“She did a good job with your hand,” the Time Lord reminds him. “I’m sure she’ll get it right. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Dorabella helps Edwin with his sock and shoe while the Vadlott checks that no other creatures are hiding somewhere, waiting to surface. But there are still no life signs other than the three of them, which has the Vadlott more than a little anxious.
He hurries the others back to the tardis and leaves as quickly as he can.
* * *
“What are they doing?” demands Edwin, staring at the other blue box that is visible on the screen.
“I wish I knew,” the Vadlott admits, “but whatever it is, the Doctor’s’s getting awfully close to that dying star, and if he’s sucked into that, nothing will save him or the TARDIS. And then,” he frowns at the details he has receiving, “very strange readings. Apparently there are three people on board, including the Doctor.”
“So why aren’t they doing anything?” asks Dorabella. “I mean, he could save himself, couldn’t he? He’s clever enough.”
“Should be.” The Vadlott changes his ship’s trajectory. “I’m going to get closer, see if I can see what’s happening inside. Dora,” he taps a red light, “keep an eye on that. If it begins to flash, even the slightest, give me a loud yell. All right?”
The woman nods, sitting on the jumpseat where she can see without being in the way.
“I don’t understand,” protest Edwin. “Wouldn’t the Doctor have received the same warnings you did to keep away?”
“I’d have thought so.” The Vadlott turns on another scanner. “But then,” he adds, hoping to lighten the atmosphere, “I’d heard such good things. Last of the Time Lords. The Oncoming Storm. Him in the bow tie. Maybe he’s not as clever as I thought.”
“He is,” protests Edwin.
“No, I’m not convinced,” the Vadlott tells him dismissively as he checks each knob and dial to find the right frequency. “I’ve love to be impressed, but look at the situation he’s found himself in.”
There is a flash of imagery on the other side of the console room that makes Edwin yelp. “What’s that?”
“Glimpse into the unknown. Actually,” the Vadlott corrects himself, “not the unknown. I’m trying to find out what’s happening in there. So, less unknown and just – different.”
“So we’re seeing what’s in the Doctor’s TARDIS.”
“And yet staying very much here while we do it, yes,” the Time Lord agrees. “I don’t feel like dying today, even if the Doctor does. Ah!” as he sees something strange, “Now, hold on, what’s that?”
“What’s what?” asks Dorabella.
“That little bit of something glowing in the console.” The Vadlott does his best to zoom in on it, and suddenly all becomes clear. “Psychic pollen! Doctor! You fool, you took your ship to the candle meadows of Karass don Slava and you didn’t decontaminate afterwards. And now look what’s happened as a result!”
“Meaning what?” demands Edwin.
“They’re being affected by it.” He points at the three unconscious forms slumped around the console. “Sound asleep and dreaming. Believing things that are not quite there.”
“What does it do?” Dorabella wants to know.
“It makes them imagine things: dreams, delusions, fantasies - call it whatever you like. And in order to save themselves, they will have to come back to reality. Choose. Decide which one is real. Wake up so they can rescue themselves and the TARDIS.”
He frowns over the readings, wondering at the spikes and troughs that seem to activate when he speaks. A moment later, though, it all becomes clear.
“Oh, of course,” he murmurs to himself. “You can hear me because of the way our tardises are linked. I’d even wager good money I’m the villain in whatever dream you’re having right now. Lord of Dreams. The Dream Lord. That sounds like a good name. Insert that into your dream and see how it turns out. The only person in the universe who hates you as much as you do. I’d be the perfect enemy. Spooky old me. Not to be trusted with your precious companions. Anything could happen,” he adds scornfully. “I might – I don’t know – talk to them or something!”
“What’s that number?” asks Edwin, pointing at the screen, interrupting the other man’s bitter thoughts.
“The temperature inside the TARDIS,” the Vadlott says after a glance. “As it approaches the dying star – well, it’s a dying star. It’s in the name, isn’t it? Dying things tend to get cold. Very, very cold.”
“How long until they fall into it?”
The Vadlott glances at his watch. “Nine minutes.”
Time ticks slowly past, but to the three people watching in the tardis, it does not seem as if the occupants of the other blue box are any closer to regaining consciousness.
“How long are you going to wait?” Edwin demands impatiently. “Why not rescue them now?”
“I’m hoping I won’t need to.” The Vadlott consults his own ship’s status. “It would be a massive drain on the old girl, and if she can’t handle it, we’ll both go falling into that star. And quite apart from what that would do to us, it would destroy this entire galactic vector.”
Edwin does not look convinced by this argument, but remains silent, which is a relief for the Vadlott, who is still trying to persuade himself that he is telling the truth.
“If you were right about nine minutes,” Dorabella says softly after a long and very painful period of silence, not looking up from her wristwatch, “then there’s only forty seconds of that time left. It doesn’t seem as if they’re going to wake up in time, does it?”
This puts a different perspective on things, including the Vadlott’s feelings. “Well, fair’s fair,” he proclaims as he begins to activate the transmat to connect with the TARDIS. “Let’s warm you up. See if that changes anything.”
The tardis engines scream as they struggle to draw the other ship out of the cold star’s pull, and for a moment it seems as if the effort is bound to fail. Slowly, though, infinitesimally slowly, the numbers recording the temperature in the TARDIS begin to rise, first by fractions of a degree, then by halves, and finally by entire degrees, until it is clear that the TARDIS is approaching normal conditions.
“But they haven’t woken up yet,” protests Edwin as the Vadlott shuts down the transmat and the engines return to their usual low throbbing.
“They will,” the Vadlott promises. “But they’ll do it in their own time. They’re safe now, and that’s the main thing. They’re safe and so are we.”
“Good,” says Dorabella, standing up, sighing with relief. “Could anyone else do with a cup of tea?”
“I could,” the Vadlott remarks.
“Yes, please!” Edwin grins, but then looks a little shy. “Mind if I come and help you?”
“Please do,” agrees Dorabella, and they leave the console room together.
Usually the Vadlott enjoys watching the interactions between his companions, but for now he is rather distracted by what has just taken place. He gazes at the blue box on the screen, wondering what has been going through the minds of those inside.
“I hope you’ve enjoyed your little fictions,” he murmurs, wondering if the Doctor will hear him. “Whatever went through your dreams, it all came out of your imagination, so I’ll leave you to ponder on that. Farewell.”
And as he sets the tardis off on a new trajectory, he hopes – probably without foundation, but he might as well be optimistic for once – that it will be a long, long time before he crosses paths with the Doctor again.
Next Part
Author:
katherine_b Rating: PG
Summary: When you have lost everything, what do you do to get it back?
Characters: The non-Doctor first glimpsed at the end of Name of the Doctor and a lot of old friends.
Part XXXIV
“Oh, wow!” Dorabella stares around her at the ancient buildings as the three people leave the tardis to find themselves in the middle of St Mark’s Square. She grabs the Time Lord’s arm in a tight squeeze. “Oh, Vadlott, I always dreamed of coming here!”
“It’s beautiful!” agrees Edwin. “Just like in the postcards! But,” he turns to the other man, “why are we here?”
“For a less-than-beautiful reason,” the Vadlott is forced to admit. “The tardis has reported that people are disappearing. We’re here to find out why.”
“They’ve certainly done that,” agrees Edwin, looking around. “There’s not a single person here, and it’s the middle of the day! Where is everyone?”
“That’s an excellent question,” the Vadlott murmurs, pulling out the device he built that gives him life-signs within a fixed area. He had thought it was set to a specific alien wavelength, or at the very least had a crossed wire, but he is astonished to find that it is reading correctly, and that other than the three of them, it is reading only one life-sign – in the closest canal, only a short distance away from where they are standing.
“And what is it?” demands Edwin once the Vadlott points this out to them.
“Hungry,” the Time Lord replies as they cross the ground towards the water. “When I first got the message from the tardis, there were three of them. Now there’s only one, so my guess is that, whatever it is, it’s turned cannibal.”
Dorabella pales a little. “And the people who were disappearing?”
“Now we know where they went,” the Vadlott says briskly. “The only question is – what’s in that canal?”
“And how we are going to get rid of it,” corrects Edwin. “Which would be two questions.”
“Yes, fair point.” The Vadlott thinks to himself that a reasonable third question would be how it got in the canal in the first place, but since he has no way of answering that, he decides to leave it for now. “But I’m hoping the answer to question one will give me a hint about question two.”
He fiddles with a few of the buttons on his detection device, wishing he had got around to making that sonic screwdriver. This is not nearly as good. Still, it will have to do, and by linking it back to the tardis’ databanks, he gets the answers he needed.
“Saturnynian?” He stares in bewilderment at the water, seeing what looks like a dark shape beneath the waves. “An infant. Not capable of existing out of the water. But what is it doing here?”
“What’s a Saturnynian?” ask Dorabella and Edwin at the same moment.
“A being from the planet Saturnyne. Three-quarters fish with a humanoid torso. Adults can live out of water for a period of time, using perception filters to hide their true selves in case of need, but adolescents can’t. I’m guessing,” he muses, tapping his detector thoughtfully against the palm of his other hand, “the adults are responsible for all those missing people. Trying to repopulate their species. The girls that vanished were taken in to their little community and converted. Anyone else who accidentally fell into the canal was fish-food.”
“But why would they need to repopulate the species on Earth?” asks Edwin. “What’s wrong with their home planet?”
“Another very good question.” The Vadlott frowns. “I don’t know. Nor do I know a way to save this Saturnynian. Any transmat would leave it out of water for too long. But if it stays there, it will starve to death.”
“A mercy killing?” suggests Edwin quietly.
“It might be the kindest thing to do,” admits the Time Lord. “Otherwise it’s going to suffer. The only question is the method.”
“Allow me,” says Edwin.
Before the Vadlott can stop him, he moves to the edge of the canal and strips off his sock and shoe, revealing a robotic foot. The Time Lord understands what he is planning and takes Dorabella’s arm when she would move forward.
“He knows what he’s doing,” he says softly.
“How?” she demands.
“Because he’s clever,” he promises, watching as Edwin rolls up his trouser leg and then dips his foot into the water.
Instantly there is a swirl of water, and the Vadlott has to stop Dorabella running forward. At the same moment, a spark of electricity darts from Edwin’s chest, flashing through his shirt, and down his leg to his foot, which has disappeared under the waves.
The Saturnynian jerks reflexively as the electricity hits it, arching briefly out of the water, its eyes wide and glassy, before dropping back down with a splash. As the Vadlott takes a step forward, releasing his hold on Dorabella, he can see it sinking into the murky depths of the canal. A merciful end for a pitiless creature.
Edwin, meanwhile, is looking ruefully at the dent in his foot, caused by the creature’s teeth, which managed to get a brief hold.
“I hope the tardis will know what to do when she gets to that bit,” he says to the Vadlott.
“She did a good job with your hand,” the Time Lord reminds him. “I’m sure she’ll get it right. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Dorabella helps Edwin with his sock and shoe while the Vadlott checks that no other creatures are hiding somewhere, waiting to surface. But there are still no life signs other than the three of them, which has the Vadlott more than a little anxious.
He hurries the others back to the tardis and leaves as quickly as he can.
“What are they doing?” demands Edwin, staring at the other blue box that is visible on the screen.
“I wish I knew,” the Vadlott admits, “but whatever it is, the Doctor’s’s getting awfully close to that dying star, and if he’s sucked into that, nothing will save him or the TARDIS. And then,” he frowns at the details he has receiving, “very strange readings. Apparently there are three people on board, including the Doctor.”
“So why aren’t they doing anything?” asks Dorabella. “I mean, he could save himself, couldn’t he? He’s clever enough.”
“Should be.” The Vadlott changes his ship’s trajectory. “I’m going to get closer, see if I can see what’s happening inside. Dora,” he taps a red light, “keep an eye on that. If it begins to flash, even the slightest, give me a loud yell. All right?”
The woman nods, sitting on the jumpseat where she can see without being in the way.
“I don’t understand,” protest Edwin. “Wouldn’t the Doctor have received the same warnings you did to keep away?”
“I’d have thought so.” The Vadlott turns on another scanner. “But then,” he adds, hoping to lighten the atmosphere, “I’d heard such good things. Last of the Time Lords. The Oncoming Storm. Him in the bow tie. Maybe he’s not as clever as I thought.”
“He is,” protests Edwin.
“No, I’m not convinced,” the Vadlott tells him dismissively as he checks each knob and dial to find the right frequency. “I’ve love to be impressed, but look at the situation he’s found himself in.”
There is a flash of imagery on the other side of the console room that makes Edwin yelp. “What’s that?”
“Glimpse into the unknown. Actually,” the Vadlott corrects himself, “not the unknown. I’m trying to find out what’s happening in there. So, less unknown and just – different.”
“So we’re seeing what’s in the Doctor’s TARDIS.”
“And yet staying very much here while we do it, yes,” the Time Lord agrees. “I don’t feel like dying today, even if the Doctor does. Ah!” as he sees something strange, “Now, hold on, what’s that?”
“What’s what?” asks Dorabella.
“That little bit of something glowing in the console.” The Vadlott does his best to zoom in on it, and suddenly all becomes clear. “Psychic pollen! Doctor! You fool, you took your ship to the candle meadows of Karass don Slava and you didn’t decontaminate afterwards. And now look what’s happened as a result!”
“Meaning what?” demands Edwin.
“They’re being affected by it.” He points at the three unconscious forms slumped around the console. “Sound asleep and dreaming. Believing things that are not quite there.”
“What does it do?” Dorabella wants to know.
“It makes them imagine things: dreams, delusions, fantasies - call it whatever you like. And in order to save themselves, they will have to come back to reality. Choose. Decide which one is real. Wake up so they can rescue themselves and the TARDIS.”
He frowns over the readings, wondering at the spikes and troughs that seem to activate when he speaks. A moment later, though, it all becomes clear.
“Oh, of course,” he murmurs to himself. “You can hear me because of the way our tardises are linked. I’d even wager good money I’m the villain in whatever dream you’re having right now. Lord of Dreams. The Dream Lord. That sounds like a good name. Insert that into your dream and see how it turns out. The only person in the universe who hates you as much as you do. I’d be the perfect enemy. Spooky old me. Not to be trusted with your precious companions. Anything could happen,” he adds scornfully. “I might – I don’t know – talk to them or something!”
“What’s that number?” asks Edwin, pointing at the screen, interrupting the other man’s bitter thoughts.
“The temperature inside the TARDIS,” the Vadlott says after a glance. “As it approaches the dying star – well, it’s a dying star. It’s in the name, isn’t it? Dying things tend to get cold. Very, very cold.”
“How long until they fall into it?”
The Vadlott glances at his watch. “Nine minutes.”
Time ticks slowly past, but to the three people watching in the tardis, it does not seem as if the occupants of the other blue box are any closer to regaining consciousness.
“How long are you going to wait?” Edwin demands impatiently. “Why not rescue them now?”
“I’m hoping I won’t need to.” The Vadlott consults his own ship’s status. “It would be a massive drain on the old girl, and if she can’t handle it, we’ll both go falling into that star. And quite apart from what that would do to us, it would destroy this entire galactic vector.”
Edwin does not look convinced by this argument, but remains silent, which is a relief for the Vadlott, who is still trying to persuade himself that he is telling the truth.
“If you were right about nine minutes,” Dorabella says softly after a long and very painful period of silence, not looking up from her wristwatch, “then there’s only forty seconds of that time left. It doesn’t seem as if they’re going to wake up in time, does it?”
This puts a different perspective on things, including the Vadlott’s feelings. “Well, fair’s fair,” he proclaims as he begins to activate the transmat to connect with the TARDIS. “Let’s warm you up. See if that changes anything.”
The tardis engines scream as they struggle to draw the other ship out of the cold star’s pull, and for a moment it seems as if the effort is bound to fail. Slowly, though, infinitesimally slowly, the numbers recording the temperature in the TARDIS begin to rise, first by fractions of a degree, then by halves, and finally by entire degrees, until it is clear that the TARDIS is approaching normal conditions.
“But they haven’t woken up yet,” protests Edwin as the Vadlott shuts down the transmat and the engines return to their usual low throbbing.
“They will,” the Vadlott promises. “But they’ll do it in their own time. They’re safe now, and that’s the main thing. They’re safe and so are we.”
“Good,” says Dorabella, standing up, sighing with relief. “Could anyone else do with a cup of tea?”
“I could,” the Vadlott remarks.
“Yes, please!” Edwin grins, but then looks a little shy. “Mind if I come and help you?”
“Please do,” agrees Dorabella, and they leave the console room together.
Usually the Vadlott enjoys watching the interactions between his companions, but for now he is rather distracted by what has just taken place. He gazes at the blue box on the screen, wondering what has been going through the minds of those inside.
“I hope you’ve enjoyed your little fictions,” he murmurs, wondering if the Doctor will hear him. “Whatever went through your dreams, it all came out of your imagination, so I’ll leave you to ponder on that. Farewell.”
And as he sets the tardis off on a new trajectory, he hopes – probably without foundation, but he might as well be optimistic for once – that it will be a long, long time before he crosses paths with the Doctor again.
Next Part
(no subject)
Love, love, love though the idea that it's the Vadlott who is the Dream Lord. :D
(no subject)
And yes, I really couldn't help putting that in there. There is certainly no love lost between the two of them, and I thought this was a good way of showing it.