“Wow!” Wyn exclaimed as she stepped out of
the TARDIS and a dry, hot breeze blew in her face. She looked at the wide,
reddish-brown plain, the soil held together by scrubby wild grasses. It
stretched to a far horizon where a long ridge of mountains was pale blue
and white against the perfect blue sky that made her feel a little dizzy
and insignificant when she looked up at it. Only the fact that she had
travelled beyond the sky and seen the true vastness of space itself, in
the company of a man who was master of it all, stopped her losing herself
in the majesty of it.
The TARDIS was parked at the side of a road, simply a ribbon of land that
was harder packed and clear of grassland. She could see it winding across
the almost flat territory all the way to those mountains.
“It looks so alien,” Stella commented. “It really does.
I’ve seen alien landscapes that are more like Earth than this is.”
“It’s fantastic,” Jamie said. “So wide, open…
absolutely beautiful. I wish there was more green to it. But even so,
I love it.”
“So do I,” The Doctor agreed. “It’s like…
like Gallifrey. The plains of the south… where the Pathizi wolves
and Leonate prides roamed free. It feels like home.”
“Well, if you like it, it’s good enough for me,” Stella
said, putting her hand in his and bringing him back to the present from
his memory of his lost homeworld.
“The Groot Karoo,” he said, slipping into a factual tone that
shelved the emotiveness of before. “It means dry, hard, thirsty
land. It was an inland sea two hundred and fifty million years ago, like
the Aral Sea in Kazakstan….”
K9 raised his head and gave the PH count for the Karoo’s soil and
mentioned that it was home to over 9,000 species of succulents, the largest
number of Earth and second only to Mux-Ka in the Deltan quarter which
was 98% arid plain and had over 50,000 such species of plant.
“Thank you, K9,” The Doctor said and continued his own commentary.
“As the continent of Africa drifted towards the equator, the sea
dried to a swamp where dinosaurs roamed. Many of their fossils have been
found here. Later, it became a dry plain as you see it now. And yet, even
here, in this apparently inhospitable climate, the most diverse race in
the universe manages to prosper. Mankind grazes sheep here, grows fruit
near the rivers where irrigation is possible, ferments some interesting
alcoholic concoctions from the fruit, and….”
He turned around. They all did the same. They looked at a series of low,
single storey buildings that had transformed a part of the Groot Karoo.
The sheds, each nearly half a mile long, had roofs that glittered in the
sunlight. They were solar panelled, making the most of the Karoo’s
greatest asset, converting it to clean, renewable electrical energy. Every
building in what amounted to a small industrial village, had the same
panels on top. This was a place where the carbon footprint of humanity
was not a problem. Nothing was taken from the environment that could not
be given back with interest.
There was no fence around the complex. The whole thing just stood there
in the middle of the plain. It did have a gate. Or rather a pair of gate
posts, standing either side of the red, hard-packed spur of a road that
split from the main drag. The posts supported a brightly coloured sign
declaring that this was WholeWheal in boh English and Afrikaans.
Stella and Wyn smiled proudly. They both spoke disparagingly of the vegetarian
food empire that their father owned. But they were proud, too. Not only
had he proved that wholesome food didn’t have to either be tasteless
and boring or involve animal cruelty, but he had proved that nobody in
the world had to go hungry, either. He put vast amounts of the profits
of WholeWheal into projects in places where hunger was a fact of life.
And here, in a semi-desert of Africa he was again proving that it wasn’t
necessary to feed the world if the world could learn to feed itself.
“Come on, then,” The Doctor said. “Let’s go and
say hello to Jo and Cliff.”
Jamie looked suddenly hesitant. She had heard Wyn talk about her family
many times. She had seen both Jo and Cliff on the TARDIS videophone connected
via their web-cam over time and space. But this was her first time meeting
them face to face.
“Meeting mum and dad isn’t a tradition of Haolstromnian courtship,
is it?” The Doctor said to her.
“No, it isn’t. But it is an Earth tradition. And I care about
Wyn. If it makes her happy…”
“Jamie!” Wyn caught her hand and kissed it tenderly. “You’re
not the first girlfriend I ever brought home. They’re not going
to be shocked.”
They held hands as they walked under the portal onto WholeWheal ground
and followed the sign pointing to ‘Reception’. They stepped
into an air conditioned room, naturally lit through an opaque glass roof
that let in light without the sun’s glare. Everywhere there were
cacti in terracotta pots that Wyn knew her mum had probably made on her
own potters wheel. The Doctor named each of the succulents colourfully
represented in the room. K9 did a robot dog equivalent of a sulk at being
outdone.
At the reception desk was a woman who, if The Doctor felt like showing
off any further, might have been identified as of native Khoi and Afrikaan
descent. She looked up as The Doctor approached. He smiled a little smugly
at her nametag. Kamisoa Dupré was a name that completely confirmed
his guess.
“Visitors for Mr and Mrs Grant Jones,” he said. “Wyn
and Stella Grant Jones, Jamie Garr Jass and The Doctor. That’s me,
of course.”
Miss Dupré smiled widely and touched the blue tooth attachment
on her ear. “They’re here,” she declared joyfully. A
few minutes later, the inner door burst open. Jo and Cliff embraced their
daughters fondly. Then they embraced Jamie, too. And as Jo turned to him,
The Doctor got ready to recycle his breathing while she kissed him enthusiastically.
“Doctor, can I have my wife back now,” Cliff Jones called
out cheerfully. “It’s good to see you. There is so much I’d
like to show you of our operation here.”
“Not now, Cliff,” Jo answered him. “They’ve had
a long journey. Let’s go to the living quarters and they can have
something to eat and drink and a rest before you drag them around the
mushroom sheds.”
“They’re NOT mushroom sheds,” Cliff answered her good
naturedly. “And they came by TARDIS. It’s not as if they had
to drive across the Karoo.”
“They probably came from the other side of the galaxy. And it’s
tiring travelling by TARDIS, too, you know.”
The Doctor smiled at their marital banter and allowed Jo to have her way.
She hung onto his arm as she brought them out of the reception and across
to a building made of the same lightweight prefabricated material as the
rest, but which had the look of a family home about it. There was a veranda
with wicker rocking chairs and a table on it that must be pleasant in
the evening when the sun went down on the Karoo, but Jo brought them inside
where the same air conditioning was a welcome break from the dry heat
outside. She had them sit in the pleasant, open plan drawing room and
made herself busy in the kitchen, preparing sandwiches and a bowl of preserved
fruit that was served with something rather like a syllabub. There was
also what looked like latte coffee, but which The Doctor thought might
be another use for WholeWheal’s versatile product.
“You guessed right,” Cliff said when The Doctor asked. “But
we’re not planning to market it. We believe in Fair Trade, and if
we marketed a coffee substitute that only a Time Lord could tell from
the real thing we would be doing a disservice to the people in coffee
growing countries who rely on that industry. It’s hard enough ensuring
they are paid a living wage without that. We produce enough here for our
personal needs. It saves transporting foodstuffs at cost to ourselves
and to the environment.”
“Quite right,” The Doctor agreed. “On all counts. But
tell me about your business, here. Is it doing well?”
“It’s doing fine, Doctor,” Cliff answered. “Would
you like to see around it now? Wyn, you should see it, too. The humidity
control system is your design, you know.”
“It works?” Wyn looked surprised. “Even in the conditions
out here? I really should see that.” She looked around at Stella
and Jamie. They were talking to Jo about the time they spent as fashion
models for Polly Jackson. They didn’t need her for a while. She
went with The Doctor and her father back out across the compound in the
dry, hot breeze to the ‘mushroom sheds’.
That was a far too simple a word for them, of course. The quarter mile
long buildings were more than sheds and they grew something much more
than a humble mushroom. Inside, they were dark, lit by low level ultra
violet lights. They were warm, but not hot, and the air was moist.
“You tap the water table, of course,” The Doctor said. “But
it must be a long way down under territory like this.”
“Which is why we make the most of every drop. The water in the air
around us is fully recycled. That’s where Wyn’s design came
in. She got the idea from the way air and water are continuously recycled
in the TARDIS.”
“Dad’s not the only one who thinks about the environment,”
Wyn explained. “I thought it might be useful in desert conditions
where water is hard to get hold of. And I was right. This place could
be in the rainforest!” She looked at the staff, dressed in waterproof
clothes, who worked continuously, picking the ripe mushrooms from the
tiers of trays where they grew. The small, yellow mushrooms went into
special containers that moved along a central monorail.
“They go directly to processing at the far end,” Cliff explained.
“Dried in special vats, then processed into different foodstuffs
from meat to flour, or coffee. We’re not quite up to maximum production
yet. When we do, we’ll also send the dried base product out to processing
factories across the country.”
“Well done,” The Doctor told him. He was totally impressed.
With his fungus, Cliff was doing what had been done on Gallifrey for generations
with Cúl nuts. He was producing synthesised food which was nutritious
and tasted like the real thing, but was much easier to produce and to
ship to places where food was needed. He had taken food production several
steps forward and was on the verge of that necessary breakthrough that
could ensure everyone on the planet had enough food.
“It’s amazing,” Wyn told her father. “But really,
dad, I hope this is your last project. You’re seventy-seven years
old. Time to retire and enjoy life.”
“I’m fit as a fiddle,” he replied. “And what would
I do with retirement?”
“Ask mum,” Wyn answered him. “I think she has some ideas.”
“I have LOTS of ideas,” Cliff said. “Come on, both of
you, and see the research shed.”
He headed for a door that needed a special card to open it. The Doctor
and Wyn followed and were surprised when it turned out to be an airlock
“Clean room environment,” Cliff said. “I’m developing
new strains of the fungus. Can’t risk cross-contamination of spores.”
“Ah.” The Doctor nodded in understanding and waited patiently
until the inner door opened and they were admitted to the research section.
“Oh, dad!” Wyn exclaimed as she looked at the fungi growing
in this UV lit environment. The mushrooms the WholeWheal empire was built
on were only about three inches in height and breadth at their biggest.
But these… She looked at one that was almost two feet across the
fully open cup. It was the same kind of fungus, she was sure. She’d
seen them all her life in one form or another so she ought to know. But
not like this.
“How did you do it?” she asked. “How did you make them
grow into giants? It wasn’t anything… unethical?” She
looked at her father and knew that was a stupid question.
“These are a similar kind of fungus, but we found them growing like
this, quite naturally. The constant dark and humidity in here simply increases
the productivity. It grows along the river fifteen miles south of here.
I heard about it from one of the locals and got one of them to show me.
It was amazing. Jo and I spent a year in the Amazon searching for the
fungus that got us started. And here it was, right on top of us. The nomadic
tribes, the San, used to include it in their diet, and I was told a bit
of a legend about it being an aphrodisiac. But all my tests show it to
be perfectly nutritious. More so than the smaller variety. And it’s
only a little more difficult to produce. We’ve had to keep it separate
from the other variety because of the laws about cross-contamination of
foodstuffs. But I’ve submitted all the paperwork and the product
has been tested by an independent lab, and we’ve got the licence
to start producing it for Human consumption on a commercial basis. It
will increase productivity five fold. Cheap, abundant, cruelty free food,
Fair Trade employment of as many local people as want a job here….”
Cliff’s eyes shone with an enthusiasm The Doctor and Wyn both knew
well.
“It’s fantastic, dad,” she told him. “So will
you finally admit you’ve done your share for the planet and retire?”
“Only when you admit you’ve had enough gallivanting around
the universe with The Doctor and come and manage this place for me.”
He said it so casually, that Wyn didn’t even realise what he had
said at first. The Doctor watched her expression as she took it in.
“Run this place? Out here in the middle of a desert?”
“Why not? It’s a good place. Wonderful people. And it needs
somebody like you. Your brothers, they’re businessmen. They think
in terms of balance sheets. You see the big picture. You see the possibilities.
And you care – about the environment, about people. And that’s
what I need here.”
“You think I’m all of that?”
“Yes, I do. And so does The Doctor.”
“You’ve talked to my dad about this?” Wyn looked around
at him.
“No,” he admitted. “Not about this. But of course we’ve
had a few man to man chats. After all, we go right back, your dad and
me. And you’re one of our favourite subjects.”
“I don’t want to leave you yet. We said a year.”
“That’s all right,” her father answered. “You
don’t have to decide yet. It’s up to you.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Good enough. Now, let me show you this. Flour, egg substitute,
milk substitute, chocolate… All from the prototype fungus. I think
we should have the first fruits of the experiment made into a cake for
your sister’s 18th birthday party tomorrow.”
“She’ll love it,” Wyn said with a smile.
The Doctor smiled, too. But one thing puzzled him. He had met Wyn five
years from now, still living in Llanfairfach. Why hadn’t she taken
him up on the offer?
He hoped it wasn’t anything he’d done or said to influence
her.
Cliff brought them back to the main part of the factory and the processing
plant where the dried fungus was made into all those different foodstuffs.
The Doctor was impressed by the variety of uses the basic protein could
be put to. It was almost as versatile as the Cúl nut protein he
had eaten all of his life on Gallifrey.
And he knew it wasn’t just a fad. Humanity’s biggest limitation
was the production of food. Once they cracked that problem, there would
be nothing they couldn’t do. It was far more important than their
ability to manipulate atoms or develop hypersonic space travel. None of
that could happen until they could feed themselves.
And Cliff’s little experiment that began in his room in the Nuthutch
at Llanfairfach in the 1970s and was now spreading out across the world,
was the spearhead of that effort. In the next generation of clever, thinking
Humanity, it would be the making of them all.
But if he told the old man that, he would probably die of shock. Even
his dreams didn’t extend that far.
They came back to the living quarters and found Stella and her mum taking
about clothes and shoes. The Doctor wondered briefly about the nature
of DNA. If Wyn was a chip of her dad’s block, then Stella was her
mum – bubbly, bright, enthusiastic, inclined to romantic ideas about
pop stars and movie heroes, but with a heart of gold within. Of course,
Stella was the product of a cloning experiment and an alien consciousness
that needed a body. But even he, who brought the two together, was apt
to forget that when he saw her with Jo. They were mother and daughter
and let anyone say otherwise.
The reunion stretched through the day. They ate a family supper at a
table set on the veranda where they watched the sun set over the Groot
Karoo. The reddish brown land and the dying sun colouring the great bowl
of the sky reminded The Doctor of home. If Cliff had asked HIM to stop
gallivanting around the universe and settle down here, he thought he would
have said yes at once. He had always thought of Earth as his second home.
But he had never before found a part of it that really did feel so completely
right.
Of course, the feeling would wear off, he admitted. He would probably
never stop wandering. The universe was his home. And he didn’t know
anywhere better.
The sun went down completely while he was lost in such thoughts. He left
the family on the veranda and wandered out onto the Karoo under a black
sky studded with silver stars. He looked up at it and caught his breath.
Of course, it was magnificent. This was one of the rare places on planet
Earth where light pollution didn’t ruin the astronomer’s view
of that universe he had been thinking about. But there was something else
that he ought to have expected, and which took him by surprise.
“Doctor?” a voice called out to him in the dark and he turned
to see Jo coming towards him. He reached out his hand to her. “I
suppose it’s silly to say this to you, but you shouldn’t wander
too far at night. You could get lost.”
“Not with the light of my own stars to guide me,” he answered.
“Jo, let me show you something wonderful.” He pointed to one
of the constellations in the sky. She recognised it easily enough.
“Sagittarius?”
“See the bow he holds up. Those six stars. They’re the constellation
of Kasterborus. That’s where my home was. The middle star of the
bowstring is the sun that warms my homeworld.”
“Warms?” she questioned his present tense. She knew the tragic
story of Gallifrey well enough.
“Light travels at a fantastic speed, but not so fast as time itself.
You’re still seeing Gallifrey’s sun as it was. If you had
a telescope strong enough – and nobody does – you would see
the golden age of Gallifrey. The time when Rassilon himself was alive,
with his twelve sons who ruled with firm kindness, laying down the laws
of Time Lord society, making us the people we were meant to be.”
“Twelve sons?” Jo smiled “Four children were enough
for me.”
“History is silent about how many wives he had. But I do know that
one of the sons was my ancestor. He’s there, now… up there…
a good, proud man, born to rule over a fine, proud people. From here…
looking up there… it’s the golden age. And I’m proud
of them.”
He put his arm around her as they looked together. Jo tried to imagine
the wonderful place he had described. It must have changed a lot by his
own time, when they punished him so terribly for something that wasn’t
even a crime at all. But he still loved it and spoke with such pride of
his home world, Gallifrey.
“You never really told me much about it in the old days. I didn’t
even know the name of your world. It was as if you were afraid to say
it.”
“I was,” he admitted. “There was a time, after it was
destroyed, when the word choked me, too. but then I learned to say it
loud and proud again. I’m glad to be a song of Gallifrey, a child
of Rassilon…”
Jo hugged him tightly. She felt he needed it.
“I almost wish I was still travelling with you. I know I’m
too old for it, but I always think of those days. They were such special
times. You were like a dad to me. You put up with my clumsiness, by daftness.
You looked after me. And you let me go when I found Cliff. I know you
didn’t want to. And that was the nicest thing you ever did.”
“My fledgling,” he whispered.
“And now I’m just an old bird,” she continued. “And
you, you fantastic man… could stand beside my own boys and people
would take you for my son. But you’re still my Doctor.”
“And you’re still my Jo.” He was still head and shoulders
taller than her, too. He bent his head and kissed her gently, for old
times sake as they stood together in the still warm, Karoo night.
“I love it here,” Jo said after a while. “I wish we
weren’t just here for a year. I’d like to stay. It would be
good for Cliff, too. This place is better for his health than damp old
Llanfairfach.”
“He told me he was as fit as a fiddle.”
“He lied. He has dreadful arthritis. But he’s a daft Welshman
who thinks he’d miss the rain.”
“You’ll sort him out,” he assured her. “But wherever
you are, be happy.”
“I am. I always have been. Not travelling in space and time is my
only regret about marrying Cliff. And we had the Amazon and so many other
places instead. And… do you remember what I told you long ago. That
Cliff was so like you.”
The Doctor remembered. He always thought it was the nicest compliment
anyone ever paid him. He held her close again and let fond memories pass
through his mind as the light of his home star shone down on him, and
he felt a rare moment of contentment.
The next morning they ate breakfast on the same veranda before the full
heat of another sunny day on the Groot Karoo. Stella was surprised by
a collection of birthday presents from everyone who cared about her. Then
she surprised them with a comment that proved The Doctor’s firm
belief in nurture over nature.
“The best present is being here with you, mum and dad, and with
Wyn and Jamie and The Doctor. All the people I love best.” K9, under
the table, gave a robotic cough. “And the robot dog I love best,”
she added. “Though I think the Karoo is too dry and dusty for him.
That cough needs looking at.”
“So, birthday girl,” Cliff said. “It’s twelve
hours and counting till your party. So how about a family drive out into
the country, see something of the Karoo…”
“Err…” Stella looked dubious. “I don’t know.
It’s ok to look at from here. But I don’t know if I want to
spend the day out there looking at miles of nothing. And if you mention
the 9,000+ succulents, K9, I’ll kick you in the diodes. They all
look the same to me. I really wouldn’t mind if there was some wildlife
– a few zebras or wildebeest or… what are those things like
deer… rugby symbol… Springbok. But I looked this place up
on the net last night. There’s nothing but sheep. And I see enough
of those in Llanfairfach.”
“Two hundred years late for zebra,” The Doctor told her. “The
sheep farming from the early 19th century onwards put paid to that. The
wild animals were either driven away or found the sheep had grazed them
out of business. We’d have to go by TARDIS…”
“Let’s do that then!” Jo suggested. “Take us on
a TARDIS safari before man changed the face of the Karoo.”
The Doctor looked at Cliff and wondered if he was put out. He had obviously
wanted a family outing with his daughters and a TARDIS safari upstaged
his idea.
“Why not?” Cliff agreed. “Saves me doing the driving.
And besides, I’ve never properly travelled in the TARDIS. I might
as well while I’m still young enough to appreciate it!”
“The Doctor’s older than you are,” Stella pointed out
to him as they finished breakfast and headed to the TARDIS where it waited,
outside the WholeWheal grounds, beside the hard packed main road across
the plateau.
“The Doctor doesn’t feel it like I do,” Cliff admitted
before he realised he was giving away something of his true physical condition.
“The Doctor feels it,” The Doctor answered quickly. “Don’t
let the face fool you. I feel as old as I am. Find seats where you can,”
he added. “Jo, Cliff, you grab the comfy sofa. Wyn, Jamie, come
and help steer.”
Stella sat with her parents at first. But when she saw what The Doctor
was doing, she stood up again. They were not travelling through the time
vortex. Rather, he was manually pulling them back through time, year by
year. They saw the way the grasslands had receded as flocks of sheep roamed
across the Karoo, herded by the stock farmers. Further back, they saw
smaller herds of sheep and cattle, under the care of the native Khoi people,
who had been small farmers for millennia. They saw a small herd of Wildebeest
being hunted by the San, the other tribe of the Karoo, who preferred a
nomadic hunting lifestyle. Then, as the clock wound back, the Karoo was
greener and there were no men to be seen, only herds of wild animals.
The Doctor opened the two doors wide and first Stella, then Jo and Cliff
stood there, safely behind the forcefield, as the TARDIS hovered a few
feet above the ground, following a herd of zebra down to the river to
drink. And by herd, they meant, not just ten or twenty, or a solitary
pair as seen in zoos, but hundreds of them, black and white stripes rippling
in the sunlight as they cantered across the plain.
“Go on,” The Doctor said to Wyn and Jamie. “Go and enjoy
it, too. I can manage.”
They crowded by the door as they watched the suddenly disturbed zebra
begin to gallop away en masse. They saw a pair of lionesses bring down
one luckless individual as the herd escaped. Stella and Jo both looked
away for the actual kill, but they couldn’t help being in awe of
the lions and it was all part of the natural order of things.
Great herds of zebra, springbok, wildebeest, lions, and other creatures
lived on the Karoo for centuries. The Doctor slowly wound back time and
they saw how lush and green it once was, how the land supported those
great herds without becoming exhausted. They all realised that the present
arid state of the plateau was as much to do with the way mankind misused
the land; overgrazing and re-direction of the meagre water sources into
irrigation for the fruit farms that provided the other main industry of
the region. Before men began to do that, the Karoo remained unchanged
for millennia. The balance of nature was right. Lions and other predators
kept the grazing creatures down to manageable numbers.
Little by little The Doctor increased the speed. The long history of the
Groot Karoo sped past in reverse like a stop motion animation. They saw
the subtle changes. Most especially, they saw it become greener, lusher,
with a humid warmth rather than that dry heat it was known for. They saw
animals they didn’t recognise. They were the first mammals that
roamed the Earth after the era of the dinosaurs, creatures that would
evolve into the zebras, springboks, wildebeest, lions and hyenas. Thpse
succulents that still formed the most colourful fauna in the 21st century
were even more abundant, even more colourful. Then further back, further
and further. The mammals disappeared. The Karoo itself changed dramatically.
It was a tropical swamp. And the creatures that roamed across it were
dinosaurs. K9 named the species, but nobody took much notice. They were
dinosaurs. They were the only people to see dinosaurs actually alive in
the Groot Karoo’s former swamp. Only their fossilised bones remained
for scientists to guess about. But they were seeing them for real.
“Only The Doctor could give me diplodocus for a birthday treat!”
Stella breathed excitedly.
But the journey wasn’t finished yet. The Doctor kept rolling back
time until finally they gazed out, not at the Groot Karoo, but at what
The Doctor called Karoo Sea. Or in Afrikaans – See Karoo. Though
of course, that name was nonsense. Karoo meant dry, hard thirsty land.
And 400,000 kilometres of inland sea was the opposite of that.
“It’s magnificent,” Cliff declared. “I don’t
suppose it would be possible to get a water sample?”
“Sorry,” The Doctor answered. “Strictly look, don’t
touch. You might scoop up the very amoeba’s destined to become zebras
when evolution does it’s work. Are you all ready for the twenty-first
century again?”
“Yes,” Stella said for them all. “But take it slowly.
Let’s see it all again going forward. All that evolution up to where
we are in our time.”
“No problem,” The Doctor confirmed. And he set their course
and watched his friends enjoy the replay of the wonder he had shown them.
Their pleasure was his own source of contentment. It was what made having
all of space and timer at his fingertips worthwhile - sharing it with
friends.
“It really is beautiful,” Wyn said as they slowly moved through
the twentieth century, watching the grass recede and the Karoo become
red again. “I wouldn’t mind staying here, really.” She
looked at Jamie and seemed to be hoping for a comment from her. She didn’t
get one, and her expression was disappointed. The Doctor was the only
one who saw it, though.
At last, the WholeWheal complex sprang up on the Karoo. And The Doctor
paused in thought for a moment before pushing the temporal manifold on
a little further. Ten, fifteen, thirty, fifty years, a hundred years.
Cliff and Jo gasped in amazement as they saw their factory grow, and growing
with it, a village, a beautiful, modern village, built around a central
garden where some of those colourful succulents were planted out in a
place where the employees of WhoelWheal could enjoy their hard earned
leisure. Then gradually, the village became an equally beautiful and thoroughly
environmentally friendly town, with houses, shops, schools, hospitals,
leisure centres and places of entertainment all with solar panelled roofs
glittering in the sun and a monorail above the high street and non-polluting
electric cars on the clean streets.
“Your legacy,” The Doctor told Jo and Cliff. “There
was a huge discussion about what the town would be called. It had to be
something in your honour. They considered Jonestown and GrantJonesville
and a few other variations, and then settled on New Llanfairfach, remembering
where it all began.
“I don’t believe it!” Jo said. “Doctor, you’re
kidding. We didn’t start all of this?”
“Yes, you did,” he assured her. “Well done.”
“You’d better take us back to our own time, quickly. Before
we get swelled heads from it all,” Cliff told him. “But thank
you for showing me that others will dream my dreams after I am gone.”
“That they will, Cliff,” The Doctor promised as he brought
them all home, at least.
After so much excitement, they were all content to spend what was left
of the day quietly around the veranda, which provided a welcome shade
in the hottest part of the day. Stella and her mum were again lost in
conversation about fashion and trivia. Cliff relaxed by drawing a preliminary
sketch of an improved humidity regulator for his mushroom sheds. The Doctor
looked at them and made a couple of suggestions that were gratefully noted,
but for the most part he was happy to sit on one of the rocking chairs,
his feet up on the railing and look out over the Karoo, again daydreaming
of home, allowing himself to think about the happier times of his youth,
when he hadn’t become disillusioned by his world and its ways.
He watched Jamie and Wyn walk out towards the gateless entrance to WholeWheal.
They were holding hands, but he thought there was something about Wyn’s
body language that worried him. He did something he didn’t often
do, even though he could. He used his superior alien hearing to eavesdrop
upon them, salving his conscience by telling himself he only did it because
he cared about them.
“You’re just nosy,” his inner voice chided him.
“Well, there’s that, too,” he agreed, then told his
inner voice to be quiet so he could concentrate.
“Do you like it here?” Wyn asked Jamie. “I mean, really
like it?”
“Yes,” she answered. “It’s great. I like your
family. Your father is a genius. And you do take after him, you know.”
“Yeah, The Doctor says so, too. But I was thinking… would
you stay here… to live… with me?”
“What?”
“I mean… I’m… well, yes… I’m proposing.
We could do the whole thing if you want. We’re allowed to get married…
But even if you don’t want that… I would like you to be…
my life partner… We could run this place together. You saw how wonderful
it’s going to be. Dad wants me to do it. But it would be meaningless
alone. I would do it if you were with me.”
The Doctor caught his breath. This was a conversation he had expected
in some form for a long time, and he knew what the answer was going to
be. His hearts thumped loudly in sad expectation.
“Wyn,” Jamie said after a long pause. “You’re
forgetting. I have a job… in the 51st century. I like being a Time
Agent. I'm on sabbatical now. But I will go back eventually. I really
hoped we’d stay in touch… and maybe we could visit each other.
But our worlds are different. I couldn’t live in yours and I don’t
think you could really live in mine, even though you enjoyed visiting.”
She paused. “I love you, Wyn. Don’t think otherwise. But you
knew… from the start. My people… we don’t do forever.
We love for a season and then we move on.”
“You want to move on?”
“Not yet. When it’s time. But I just can’t give you
a lifetime. I’m sorry, Wyn…”
Jamie reached to try to hug her, but Wyn turned away. Jamie stood looking
at her back for a while, then turned and walked away. The Doctor saw that
she was shimmering. The telltale sign of an overemotional gendermorph
was when they lost control of their gender. Jamie was hurting.
But so was Wyn and The Doctor made a decision. Wyn was his fledgling,
just as her mother had been. And he went to her. She was crying, leaning
against the gate post. He said nothing. He simply put his arms around
her and gave her a warm shoulder to cry on instead of an uncaring gate
post.
“When you’re ready, we’ll talk about it,” he told
her. “Meantime… cry it all out, and be ready to put on a smile
for your sister’s birthday?”
“I’m an idiot,” she sobbed. “I knew all along.
But I hoped… It would have been wonderful. But… not without
her. The sky is just too big here to be alone under it.”
“I understand,” The Doctor assured her. “I’ve
felt that about the sky, too.”
“Would you like to retire and be a mushroom farmer with me?”
she suggested.
“It’s tempting,” he said. “It really is. But…
it might just be too much of a comedown after being a prince of the universe.”
“You could have said you’d think about it,” she teased
him. “That’s two rejection in ten minutes. I could get seriously
depressed.”
“Not on your sister’s birthday,” he reminded her. She
nodded and managed a genuine smile. “That’s my girl,”
he told her. And she smiled again. Only The Doctor could say something
that patronising. He was the only man, outside of her family, who had
earned the right to call her ‘his girl’.
By the time the party began, near sundown, Wyn and Jamie were holding
hands again. The Doctor wondered if it was genuine, or just for appearances,
but they seemed happy. Stella was overjoyed to be the centre of attention
at the party that spilled out from the Veranda into the compound, lit
with strings of coloured lanterns. The family, and guests, including many
of the people who worked at WholeWheal, ate joyfully from the grand buffet
– the food all made from the famous fungi protein, and the cake
made from the first fruits of the super fungi. They toasted Stella’s
coming of age with real champagne from the wine cellar and there was plenty
of other drink in the form of red, white, rosé, and a curious yellow
peach wine that were all made locally, and something called witblitz,
also made from the local fruit, but definitely not wine. Even The Doctor,
whose alien metabolism didn’t react to alcohol, was stunned by it.
He said he might keep a bottle for getting the rust off the TARDIS’s
diodes.
Again, as the sky darkened, The Doctor found himself drawn away from the
lights and the laughter and out into the night on his own. He felt good.
The flavours of good food and wine still lingered on his palette. Even
the witblitz. He wondered if it was cleaning the rust of some of his own
diodes, metaphorically speaking. He felt nicely mellow, anyway. There
were problems to be resolved, of course. Wyn and Jamie, for one. Persuading
Cliff that he wasn’t immortal and he should take a well earned retirement
for another. But for the moment none of it worried him. He was happy to
wander in the darkness, the dust of the Karoo beneath his feet, the stars
above his head. Again he found Sagittarius and fixed on the bright star
on the bowstring as he thought about his ancestors and the golden age.
Then he blinked. He stared up at the stars. They were moving, reforming
into different constellations. Familiar constellations a long time ago.
He found himself remembering boyhood days - astronomy lessons with his
grandfather on nights such as this – warm Gallifreyan nights. He
remembered the mythological names for the constellations that shone down
on the Southern Continent.
“Penelope,” he whispered as he looked at the largest constellation,
central in the sky, that to the imaginative was a woman standing with
one arm raised over her head. “The Leonate, Castrica, Melchus…”
He murmured the names of the constellations and saw their patterns in
the sky.
He was dreaming, of course. Perhaps there WAS something in the witblitz
that had reacted with his alien metabolism after all. Whatever it was,
though, he didn’t fight it. He was looking at Gallifrey’s
stars and he was happy.
“Why are you here?” asked a voice. He turned and his hearts
surged with joy. There was a Time Lord standing there, dressed in the
full, magnificent regalia of his high rank. The Doctor moved closer and
saw the symbol of his House – his family - in the huge medallion
resting on his chest. He recognised his own House.
“You’re my ancestor,” he said. “The first of my
line… the one sired by Rassilon.”
“You are out of your time…”
“I’m out of my head. This is a dream, or a vision. I’m
not really seeing you. I’m not really here. But it’s fantastic,
anyway. You’re my great, great, great, great… no, I give up.
I'm not even sure how many generations you go back. But we’re the
same family… the same blood. And it’s… it’s…”
“You’re babbling,” his ancestor told him.
“I know. I do that sometimes… when I’m excited. Or sometimes
just to fool the enemy into as false sense of security. As an old friend
once said – it’s so good to be insane. No-one asks you to
explain…”
“It’s unbecoming of a Time Lord,” his ancestor replied
crossly.
“Hey, if this is my vision, why am I getting a hard time? I just
wanted to say hello… to the Golden Age… to pretend for a while…
that it was all still there, still beautiful… I didn’t want
to fight with anyone… Just…. Talk to me… please…”
His ancestor didn’t reply. Instead he heard another voice calling
to him.
“Doctor!” He turned and saw Jamie standing there. He was in
male form, though dressed in a feminine trouser suit that didn’t
look quite right. “Doctor… not you, too? Come back, please.”
“Come back…” He turned back and his ancestor was gone.
He looked up at the stars and saw Sagittarius and the other Earth constellations.
“I’m back. I don’t know what came over me. It was nice…
I knew it wasn’t real, but I wished it was.”
“Doctor, everyone is acting strangely. Help me.”
The strange but beautiful vision evaporated like a soap bubble as he looked
back at the party under the lights. Things looked wrong. He ran back,
followed by Jamie. Everyone seemed to be wandering around aimlessly, all
of them in separate worlds, having conversations with people who weren’t
there. The Doctor wondered if he had looked like that, talking to his
ancestor.
“This isn’t the witblitz, that’s for sure,” he
said.
“Can’t be. Stella and Wyn didn’t touch the stuff. They
both said it was revolting. And I DID have a glass, but it didn’t
affect me.”
“You’re metabolism is different, of course. All those pheromones
you exude probably saved you. But we’d better do something about
this. Let’s get them all back to the real world.”
He grabbed the nearest person. It was the girl from the reception, Kamisoa
Dupré. She was talking in native Khoi and the conversation seemed
remarkably similar to his own. She was communicating with a tribal ancestor
who was apparently giving her some stick for forgetting the traditions
of her ancient people. He shook her gently and called her name. She gave
a soft sigh and focussed on him.
“That’s strange,” she said. “I was dreaming…”
“Lot’s of people are. Help me. You know their names. Calling
them by it seems to help. Wake them up.”
He and Jamie found Cliff and Jo and woke them. Cliff had been having a
chat with Thomas Edison.
“Yeah, me and Tom used to have some fascinating chats. You’d
be in your element,” The Doctor answered. “But we really need
to get everyone back to reality just now. Then try to find out what the
heck happened here.”
Slowly everyone recovered their grasp of reality. They were confused but
unharmed. Then Jamie called to him, panic in his voice.
“I can’t find Wyn,” he said. “Stella is ok. But
Wyn’s gone.”
He looked around. Stella was on the veranda by the house. She looked worried.
“Jo, go and take care of her,” The Doctor said. “And
get everyone else safely indoors, too. Cliff, Jamie, you both come with
me.”
He sprinted towards the TARDIS. Its lantern, the Police Public Call Box
sign and the faux windows were a welcome beacon in the darkness, for him
and for Jamie and Cliff, who took a little longer to reach it. Jamie kept
pace with Cliff, whose sprinting days were long gone. By the time they
stepped aboard, The Doctor had easily located one lone Human who had travelled
in the time vortex. Her unique pattern showed up distinctly on the lifesigns
monitor.
“She’s wandered off into the Karoo,” he said to them.
“Everyone else wandered in circles. She went off in a straight line.
Does that say something about her single-mindedness or what?”
“It says we have to get her, quick,” Cliff said. “There
may not be zebras and lions out there now, but there are still snakes
and venomous insects that come out at night.”
“Don’t worry, I’m on it,” The Doctor assured him.
He fixed on her co-ordinates, noting that her straight line had taken
her a good mile across the Karoo, and in party shoes, too. He set the
TARDIS to materialise around her. Jamie and Cliff both reached out for
her as soon as she solidified, but The Doctor told them not to wake her
yet. He noted that she seemed to be having a conversation with him. It
was a replay of a pleasant time they had spent, years back when she was
a teenager. They had walked with backpacks across a rather interesting
planet with three suns and four moons in the afternoon sky, and their
conversation had been light and untroubled. Cliff was surprised that she
had talked about him, telling The Doctor how she wanted to make him proud
of her.
“Oh, Wyn, love,” Cliff whispered. “You always did. Funny
thing… the day she graduated from university, with a degree in engineering…
she said she wished YOU were there, Doctor. And hoped you’d be proud
of her.”
“As if she could disappoint either of us,” The Doctor said.
“But, come on. We need to get to the bottom of this. It’s
not as bad as it might have been. Everyone’s visions seemed to be
benign ones. But we can’t let it happen again. And Wyn will have
to be our guinea pig for the time being. Steer her to the medical room.
I want a blood test and a quick brain scan before we wake her up.”
Jamie and Cliff both looked appalled at the idea of using her that way,
but they realised The Doctor was right. She kept walking anyway, lost
in that sweet memory. They really did just have to steer her the right
way. Getting a blood sample wasn’t very difficult. The brain scan
was harder as she didn’t seem to want to lie down under the machine,
but they managed it in the end.
“Ok, wake her now, gently,” The Doctor said. She was still
lying under the scanner and he hoped to take a second test once she was
‘back’.
“What…” Wyn opened her eyes with a start and looked
up at her lover and her father, and The Doctor as he bent over her and
shone the sonic screwdriver’s blue light in her eyes. She swore
mildly at him and he grinned before taking the second scan of her head
and extracting another blood sample from her arm.
“You can get up now,” he told her.
“What? We just decided to play doctors and nurses while I was….
How did I get here? I remember… eating birthday cake and then…
Oh, I had such a dream… and now I’m being used as a pin cushion.”
“Guinea pig,” The Doctor answered her. Jamie explained what
was going on as The Doctor compared the two sets of tests.
“So… have you found anything?” she asked.
“I’m afraid to say I have,” The Doctor replied. “And
it had nothing to do with witblitz. Cliff… I’m sorry but…”
“No!” Wyn exclaimed. “No, it’s not the fungus.
I’ve eaten that stuff all my life. So has half the world. No. It
can’t be. And… even if it was. No… Dad would be ruined…
WholeWheal…”
She looked at her father. He clearly already understood the implications.
The Doctor said nothing. He simply jumped up from his microscope and headed
out of the medical centre. The others followed. He looked up as they reached
the console room. “Cliff, show me on this chart where the big mushrooms
grow wild.” Cliff looked at the map of the Karoo on the environmental
monitor and pointed to the place. The Doctor fed the co-ordinate into
the navigation drive, and a moment later he stepped out into the night.
He returned with a sample of the fungus. Then he set a new co-ordinate.
That brought them to the research shed where Cliff had been breeding the
same giant fungus.
“It’s not the commercially grown ones?” Cliff’s
relief was palpable as he realised what The Doctor was up to.
“No, it’s not,” The Doctor assured him. “Your
reputation is safe as far as that’s concerned. But these ones…”
He brought the wild sample with him out into the shed. “Look,”
he said. “Compare the wild ones with your cultivated one, even to
the naked eye.”
“There’s a different texture. It’s like a matt paint
finish…” Wyn noted. “But…”
“Take a seat, Cliff,” The Doctor said. “All of you.
This could take a little while.” He carefully prepared slide samples
from the wild and the cultivated mushroom and examined them under Cliff’s
own microscope.
“That confirms it,” he said finally. “It’s your
giant mushrooms. They contained a hallucinogenic compound.”
“That’s impossible,” Cliff argued. “They’ve
already been tested by the food agency. I’ve been licensed to start
commercial production.”
“It was tested, but has anyone actually eaten it before now? Stella’s
birthday cake was the first time, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“It only reacts when people eat it. Their stomach acids combine
with the substance to produce these rather wonderful but potentially dangerous
chemical reactions in the brain. What looks perfectly benign, well able
to pass food standards tests, becomes an hallucinogen. A harmless one,
relatively speaking. The effects dissipate as soon as the subject is woken
from the trance. Wyn’s blood, and her brain scans were perfectly
normal less than thirty seconds later. But even so, not something WholeWheal
want to be marketing?”
“Certainly not,” Cliff protested. “I wasn’t THAT
sort of hippy even in the 1970s. But does that mean the whole project
is useless? I was that close to the commercial expansion…”
“I’m afraid so,” The Doctor told him.
Cliff looked around at his experiment. He had such hopes, and they had
been dashed.
“Tom Edison,” The Doctor said out of the blue. “I remember
when he was trying to develop the electric light bulb. After the two thousandth
failure… when he still wouldn’t let me give him any hints.
He turned to me and said ‘I haven’t failed, I’ve found
2,000 ways how not to make a light bulb; I only need to find one way to
make it work.’”
Cliff looked at him and managed a half smile.
“You and Tom would definitely get on. You know one way not to mass
produce giant mushrooms for Human consumption. Hopefully it won’t
take you 2,000 attempts to get it right. But if you WILL take a hint,
I suggest looking at the humidity levels. Your other mushrooms originated
in the damp Amazon. These are from the hot, dry, thirsty land.”
Cliff looked around the room as if he was already thinking about that.
“I’ll have to cancel the licence. Re-apply when I have it
right. Anything else would be a cover up, dishonest.”
“Quite right,” The Doctor assured him. “Honesty is the
best policy. But don’t worry about it now. Go to bed. Sleep well.
Think about it tomorrow.”
They left the TARDIS in the research shed. The Doctor promised to help
him get the new experiment underway tomorrow. They walked across the quiet
compound to the house. Cliff did as The Doctor said and went to bed. The
Doctor sat on the veranda, amidst the remains of the party that would
be somebody else’s job to clean up tomorrow. Wyn came and joined
him presently.
“You knew, of course,” Wyn said. “That it took dad nearly
all year to get that far. It will take him as long again to get the project
to that stage again from scratch. That means he’ll be here when
its winter in Wales. Just what mum was hoping. Better for his arthritis.
And even if it takes another ten years, he’d be much happier working
out his fungus problems than sitting around in ‘retirement’.”
“There’s always a silver lining.”
“If mum and dad stay here, there’s no hurry for me to decide
about coming to work here. I’ve got time to think about it.”
“There’s that, too.”
“That’s why you told dad the Edison thing. So he wouldn’t
give up.”
“Your dad wouldn’t give up anyway. But it did him good to
know he wasn’t the only scientist with a failed experiment.”
“Still feels like you fixed everything for us.”
“I’m The Doctor. It’s what I do.”
“Yeah. Except… you can’t fix me and Jamie.”
“There’s nothing to fix. You just have to let nature take
its course and try not to let it hurt so much.”
“You’re not going to give me any help, are you?”
He shook his head. “I can’t. You have to work that one out
for yourself.”
She sighed, but managed a smile all the same. “That’s what
you do best,” she said. “It’s what you’ve always
done. Let people work it out for themselves, with, occasionally a bit
of a nudge from you in the right direction when they need it. When they’ll
take it. Thomas Edison… Mum, dad, me…”
“Madam Curie, Teddy Roosevelt, Winston Churchill…” He
grinned. “Thomas Jefferson, Isambard Kingdom Brunel, George Stephenson,
William Shakespeare, Charles Darwin, Isaac Newton, John Lennon, Charles
Dickens, Michael Faraday…”
Wyn smiled as his list continued. She had no doubt he
had given a bit of a nudge to each and every one of them. And knowing
that she, and her mum and dad, belonged in that list, made her feel very
honoured.