Brenda’s people treated The Doctor
and Rose like royalty. He found it deeply embarrassing, the more there
on Tiboran than he did at SangC’lune. The simple, trusting people
of that planet knew no other way, and he didn’t mind being their
Living God. But the Tiborans were an advanced civilisation with hyper-space
travel and trade and political communication with other planets. It was,
he thought, ridiculous that such people fell to their knees in supplication
when he appeared before them. He was nobody’s God, and he was nobody’s
Lord, and he wished as he had never wished before that he was not the
only Time Lord of Gallifrey left. He would gladly hand on the ‘honours’
conferred on him to any other candidate.
And as if being a Lord of Time wasn’t enough, he was also a hero
to them for rescuing Brenda, not once, but three times; from the curse
of ‘Edgar’, from being lost on the hidden Earth, and from
the pirates that had waylaid them. The story of all three incidents became
legend within the few hours they were there on the planet and The Doctor
knew if he never returned for a century they would still be telling the
story.
“I’ll miss Brenda though,” he sighed as they finally
set off from Tiboran, just the two of them again. “She was a sweet
girl – reminded me of Susan a little. And Vicki… and Dodo.…”
His voice trailed off as he thought about some of the young people who
had shared his adventures over the years. Then he looked and saw Rose,
watching him with a half smile. She had no reason to be jealous, of course.
She knew that those thoughts were no more than that. SHE was real. She
was the one he dreamt of making his wife. He smiled at her and she smiled
back brightly. His hearts skipped a beat.
“Where are we headed now?” she asked as she took the drive
controls and prepared to move them from temporal orbit into the vortex.
“I think… I want to be with family. Let’s go see Susan.
I want to see how my boys are doing anyway. They’ve been telling
me about their temporal experiments.”
“Fine by me,” Rose said. And she programmed the co-ordinate
easily. She had used that one often enough before. The Doctor sat down
on the command chair and watched her. He was proud to see her skilfully
and confidently handling the controls. Proud of her, proud of himself,
and proud of the TARDIS for accepting her so completely that it allowed
her to do it. Technically, he was the only one who should be able to operate
anything more than peripheral controls. That was a safety measure built
into all TARDIS’s. They could only be operated by the Time Lord
they belonged to, that they had an unbreakable symbiotic relationship
with. But he and Rose were all but symbiotic themselves, and the TARDIS
had accepted her as an extension of himself, responding to her hand at
the controls.
He smiled happily and let his daydreams wander to a future possibility,
when she would be his wife and they would travel the universe together
in the TARDIS that loved and cherished them both. If they couldn’t
be blessed with children, then at least they would have the freedom of
space and time together.
They had that now, of course, he told himself. But how much sweeter it
would be if their wanderings, their adventures, were punctuated by the
consummated love of a man and woman.
One day, he told himself. One day, for sure. And meantime the wish was
enough to keep her by his side.
“Fasten your seatbelt for landing,” Rose said looking at him
lounging so comfortably there and letting her do the piloting. She smiled
happily. She loved feeling that she COULD pilot the TARDIS, if only to
co-ordinates she knew well like this one and home to the flats.
“I’ll give you seatbelt,” he said, jumping up, suddenly
awake and animated. “It’s easy enough taking the TARDIS into
a preset materialisation. But you don’t know how to make her REALLY
move.” He stood behind her and guided her hands skilfully as he
brought the TARDIS out of the time vortex into orbit above Earth. “This
is the way to land her.” Rose gasped as they went into a fast descent.
She saw the British Isles racing towards them, at first just a green outline
in the blue of the Atlantic, and then in increasing detail. As they honed
in on Greater London she could see streets and whole buildings. They levelled
out at the treeline and followed the Thames, skimming over the famous
bridges until they reached Richmond-upon-Thames. Only then did they slow
down and he let her complete the materialisation under the car port of
Susan’s house.
“How did we do that?” she asked as they stepped out of the
TARDIS. “How can the TARDIS fly like that? It was like being in
a jet plane. But… I mean look at it… it’s a rectangle
box. It’s not even aerodynamic.”
“You always forget - that’s just what the TARDIS looks like,”
he told her. “It’s not what she is. She can be aerodynamic
if she wants to be.”
“What does it REALLY look like, then?” she asked.
“In default form, a plain grey rectangular box,” he admitted.
“I haven’t seen it that way for centuries, though. I love
it as a police box. Wouldn’t have it as anything else.”
He had no more to say about it then. He was distracted by the shrieks
of joy from Chris and Davie as they ran to him. He held out his arms to
them and they hugged him affectionately for a long time, both talking
at once and he hardly able to keep up with them both. They both hung on
his arm as they stepped into the house and he was greeted equally joyfully
by Susan, and by Sukie, who ran to him on her unsteady two year old legs
to be lifted into his arms.
“You have grown,” he told her, kissing her gladly. “Sukie,
my little love, you were just a tiny thing when I first set eyes on you,
and now look at you. A little lady.” The little girl laughed and
chattered at him in her baby language which he seemed to understand so
well.
The twins, ousted from their great-granddad’s affections by their
little sister came to Rose and took her hands as they all came to the
drawing room. David, reading in his armchair, got up and shook hands with
The Doctor warmly. They disagreed on a lot of issues, especially about
how and what the twins ought to be learning. But they respected each other
all the same.
“Come on, children,” Susan said. “Let your granddad
sit down, now.” She took Sukie from him and sent the boys back to
the table where they had been working before his arrival. At last he had
a chance to breathe. “I’m glad to see you, grandfather,”
Susan said. “As always. Can you stay long?”
The question was always asked. He glanced at Rose and she squeezed his
hand in answer.
“We don’t need to be anywhere else right now,” he said.
“I can do domestic for a couple of days.” Susan smiled joyfully.
David was satisfied with what made her happy. The boys were delighted
and asked him to see their experiment. He joined them at the dining table,
bringing Sukie with him. How much more domestic could he get, he thought.
And he loved it.
The experiment caught his attention at once. The boys had built a temporal
accelerator. He looked at them. They were ten years old, another five
months to their eleventh birthday, and they had built, from ordinary components
from a computer repair shop, a temporal accelerator. He had not managed
that until he was seventy, and even then he took another ten years to
make it work satisfactorily. But the boys had figured it out. They really
WERE going to be better than him when they had learned all they needed
to know. He wondered how much he COULD teach them, before they started
to teach him.
He watched without comment as they put a cherry stone into a small pot
of compost and pointed the accelerator at it. In a matter of seconds shoots
were poking up through the soil and sprouting leaves, and in a minute
a small tree was growing - growing by the minute until it was a few feet
tall and the roots cracked the pot. They stopped the accelerator and he
gasped in astonishment.
“You’ve stabilised it.”
Creating a temporal field and making something grow was not difficult.
The problem was that outside of the field it reverted to the original
state. But the cherry sapling remained when they switched it off. They
had worked out the advanced part – the sapling had grown and it
would stay grown.
“That is incredible,” he said. “Well done, both of you.
But…” He looked at them both and he reached out and touched
their hands. “Right now, I want your solemn promise – as Gallifreyans
bound by the Oath of Rassilon – that you will never, ever, use this
on any living creature – not even the smallest insect. Not even
an egg from the fridge. Plant life, yes. But never animal life. We don’t
cause things pain. And temporal acceleration is one of the most painful
things you can do to anything capable of feeling pain.”
The boys looked at him for a long moment and he wondered if they were
going to argue. Then they solemnly and sincerely promised him they would
never do such a thing. David, coming to see what it was about, added his
own fatherly injunction to The Doctor’s, but there was no need.
They understood, and if they could be mischievous, as children are, they
were NOT cruel and they would not break the promise they had given to
the one man, besides their father, whose opinion of them they cherished.
“Dad, can we take it outside and finish it?” Chris asked and
David gave his assent providing it was well away from his roses. THEY
grew the way nature intended them to grow. Davie took the sapling, Chris
the accelerator and the whole family followed them out. With something
like reverence, the cherry sapling was transplanted to a bare patch of
soil. Chris told everyone to stand back in an imperious tone that instantly
reminded everyone of The Doctor. Even he obeyed the command immediately.
Chris turned on the accelerator and they watched as the sapling grew higher
and spread itself into a full grown cherry tree. They watched it blossom
and cherries ripen before he turned the accelerator off. Rose reached
out and plucked a handful of cherries. They looked normal. She ate one
and smiled.
“It looks so pretty, too,” Susan said, picking some of the
fruit. “Though it’s only May, a bit early for cherries.”
The boys looked positively smug at their achievement. The Doctor looked
at the tree thoughtfully and then reached in his pocket. He looked at
the dried up cúl nut that had been in his pocket ever since they
breakfasted on them in the illusion of Gallifrey that the TARDIS had created
for him and Rose for one night only.
“See if this will grow,” he said to the boys and gave them
the nut. They looked at it and asked what it was, but he just said “try
it and see.” They planted it in a pot of compost on David’s
workbench first, and as with the cherry stone, a few minutes produced
a sapling ready for transplanting. The Doctor chose a spot, not too bright,
with a little shade, the way they grew best, and planted the sapling.
Then he stood well back and let the boys work. As the tree rose up and
blossomed and then fruited he felt an emotional lump in his throat. When
they were done he stepped forward and picked one of the newly grown nuts.
He gave it to Susan and asked her if she remembered what it was. She peeled
it and tasted it and her eyes widened.
“I haven’t tasted one of these since…. Well, not a real
one since I was about four. We grew them in the garden. You used to pick
them for me. You made the TARDIS’s food synthesiser copy them because
I loved the taste, but they were never quite as good as the real thing.”
She picked another cúl nut and peeled it and gave it to Sukie,
who chewed it happily.
“A piece of Gallifrey exists again,” The Doctor said and he
blinked away the bittersweet tears. He looked at Susan. She was standing
under the tree, her hand on its trunk. She, too, was close to tears. She
turned and hugged her grandfather. For the moment, nothing and nobody
else existed except him and her and this tree, between them the last remnants
of their dead world, thriving against the odds, on a planet a million
light years away from where they were born. “I want to go home,”
she said. “I want to see our own moon, our own sun, again.”
“But you can’t, Susan,” David told her, taking her from
The Doctor’s arms and holding her. He had felt, for a moment, a
strange pang of jealousy when she said that. Forty-four years before,
he had offered her the chance to put down roots, instead of the roving
life she had with her grandfather, a life that she loved, but at the same
time she longed to change. She had told him many times about the beautiful
but stultifyingly bureaucratic world she came from and the reasons for
their exile from it. As a veteran of the resistance movement that had
fought the Dalek invasion of his own world, he certainly didn’t
blame The Doctor for his one man rebellion. He understood that, and had
admired his courage – a courage he had given his granddaughter in
abundance, too.
But The Doctor had been gone for so long, and Susan HAD put down roots
on Earth. Except when he held her close and he felt that double heartbeat,
or odd occasions when she had cut herself and orange blood had flowed
briefly before her body mended itself, he had been able to forget for
most of their married life that she WAS an alien from another planet.
Susan forgot it most of the time and lived as a Human. When she finally,
after long years of trying, fell pregnant and the twins took sixteen long
months to be born, and when they turned out to be orange blooded aliens
with two hearts, he’d had a lot to come to terms with. But he loved
his wife, and their beautiful children who just happened to have the strangest
DNA on planet Earth.
He had come to terms with the fact that his sons were different. And that
HE could do nothing to help them come to terms with their difference.
He welcomed what The Doctor could do for them in his own way. It broke
his heart, too. He tried not to be jealous of the love his boys had for
a man who only came into their lives two years ago. As for the idea that
his sons would be Time Lords one day – he wavered between fear and
pride. His sons had the potential to be the most powerful beings in the
universe. And that meant that they would be hated by so many beings –
including those Daleks he had fought so hard against.
He shivered as he recalled that part of his young manhood. Half of the
Human race had been dead, including his whole family. Most of the survivors
were enslaved. A few of them hung on. But they were fighting a losing
battle until…
...Until The Doctor arrived. An old man whose memory faltered and whose
body was weakening, but he had been the catalyst that spelled the end
for the Daleks and the new beginning for Earth and Humanity. And had either
remembered him? Susan and he were probably the only ones who did remember
what he had done, although that dark period of Earth’s history was
still in the living memory of its oldest citizens and was taught to the
children as history. By rights, there ought to be plaques, statues, streets
and public buildings in his honour.
Instead, his legacy was….
….was Chris and Davie, David realised. That was how The Doctor would
be remembered by posterity. Through his great-grandchildren. Suddenly
it all made sense to David. He looked at The Doctor. He was a different
looking man than the one he had met all those years before. But the same
spirit was in him. This WAS the man who had saved Humanity and continued
to save it all his long life. He had suffered for Humanity time and again.
They all owed him a lot. HE owed him a lot. At the least, he owed him
for the loving family he had.
“Doctor…” he said. “You said that the TARDIS ‘created’
an illusion of Gallifrey for you.”
“Yes,” he said. “That’s where the nut came from.
I haven’t kept that in my pocket for the past couple of hundred
years.”
“Could it do it again… for us?” He felt Susan gasp and
look up at him, astonished that he had asked. He had always been the down
to earth element in her life. He had no time for dreams. The stars were
simply lights in the sky to him. And she had loved that in him. The steady
certainty, the feet firmly on the ground. But he was willing to let her
have one dream if it made her happy.
“Yes. It could. Come on.” He picked up Sukie in his arms and
reached with his free hand for Rose, as he always did when they went ANYWHERE.
The twins hung at his side, and David and Susan followed as he headed
to the car port where the TARDIS was ‘parked’.
Through the double doors by the coke machine, they found themselves in
an illusion that made those who had not seen it happen before gasp in
astonishment. Susan’s reaction was the most extreme. She burst into
tears.
“That’s a beautiful house,” David said looking at the
three story mansion of warm cream coloured stone with wide sweeping steps
and what he would call an ionic portico over its front door. A formal
garden with a fountain lay to the right of it and the driveway they stood
upon ended at the edge of a deciduous forest that included numerous cúl
nut trees.
“Who does it belong to?” Rose asked. She looked at The Doctor
and knew that was a stupid question.
“It’s our house,” Susan said tearfully. I was born here.”
“So was I,” The Doctor said, in a choked up voice that matched
Susan’s. “This…IS the House of Lœngbærrow.”
He watched as Susan walked up the steps to the front door. He was not
surprised when the door opened and she stepped inside. When they lived
there, of course, a uniformed butler would have opened it, but now he
knew it was just the TARDIS reacting to her. He wished he COULD recreate
the people as well as the things. The servants had been like family. Most
of them had served the Lœngbærrows all their life – all his
life, from his childhood, to when he brought Julia there as his wife,
to when it was just himself and Susan living a rather socially isolated
existence together. The house was usually a happy place, though it had
known its tragedies. It had rung with the laughter of children often enough
- Susan the last of them. The house had been left empty after his exile.
His half-brother had lived elsewhere.
But the TARDIS had not recreated the empty, neglected house he had seen
the last few times he had returned to Gallifrey since his banishment was
lifted. It had restored it as Susan remembered it. And given that she
was a little more than four years old when she last saw it, the recreation
was perfect. He walked through the rooms as if in a nice dream. He was
almost unaware of the others. Even Rose had to seek him out.
She found him in what was clearly a child’s bedroom.
“Susan’s room?” she asked.
“Yes,” he smiled. “And before her… it was Christopher’s.
A long time back, it was mine. We’re creatures of habit.”
He took her by the hand and they carried on exploring the silent house.
It felt like walking around a museum or a stately home, not somewhere
that somebody lived.
They came to a very beautiful library with hundreds of books lining the
walls. The Doctor sighed as he ran his hand along the shelves looking
at the titles. Most, as far as Rose could see were books about law or
economics. Nothing she could imagine feeling nostalgic for.
“Is it really a good idea you being here?”
“In this room?”
“In this house.”
“Susan needed to see it. It’s her illusion, not mine. Feels
odd to be here, but I’m not unhappy. Sort of… I don’t
know… regretful. I wish I could offer you the lifestyle I lived
here. But this is all gone. And however we live… in the future…
it won’t be like this.”
“I don’t think I would want all this. It’s too grand.
Servants… all of that. I’m a girl from a council estate. This
isn’t me. I’m more likely to BE one of the servants.”
“You’re my Lady Rose,” he told her. “If…
if it was different, this WOULD be the house I would bring you to as my
wife. And you WOULD have servants to tend to your needs. You would be
the mistress of this household.”
“And ‘pureblood’ snobs blanking me because I’m
not one of them?” she asked. “No thanks.”
“You would refuse to marry me if I was still a high ranking Gallifreyan?”
“You wouldn’t know me if you were still that person.”
“Probably not. And I’d be the worst for it. On the whole,
I’d rather have you.” He took her hand and drew her near,
meaning to kiss her, but the door opened and Susan came in.
“Coming to tea?” she asked.
“What?” The Doctor looked at her. She was smiling though he
thought she might have cried a bit too.
“I thought as we walked around it would be nice for us all to have
tea in the dining room - like we used to do when guests came around. And
when I looked… the TARDIS knew exactly what I wanted. And... Oh,
come on. It would be so nice, just once…”
“I didn’t think you remembered so much of it,” The Doctor
said as he took Rose and Susan by the hand and headed instinctively to
the dining room.
“Neither did I. But it must all be in my head somewhere. It feels
nice to be here... just for a little while.”
They stepped into the dining room. The rest of the family were already
there. David and the boys and Sukie. A glorious high tea was laid out
on the table and a huge silver teapot steamed on the sideboard. The Doctor
went to the head of the table and Rose and Susan either side of him; his
promised one, as Brenda had put it, and his granddaughter, the two women
most precious to him. Sukie sat next to her mother on several cushions
to raise her up to the table and Susan and The Doctor shared a smile that
told that they both remembered doing the same for her when she was that
age. David sat next to his daughter and the twins opposite him.
The Doctor looked at them all and smiled and invited them to eat at his
table. Rose knew from past experience that the food was as real as it
was possible to be. The fruits they picked the last time the illusion
had been created and the picnic in the cave were real. So, too, was the
meal before them. It was perfect.
“You gave up so much when you left here, Doctor,” David said,
coming to the point that was in all of their thoughts. “I never
realised before what it must have meant to you both to leave your home
and become exiles.”
“These are JUST material things,” The Doctor said, looking
at the silver cutlery and fine china before him, the crystal chandelier
over their heads and silver inlaid mirrors on the walls. “They don’t
matter. I took the most precious thing I had with me… Susan.”
He looked at David for a moment. “And when I left her in your care,
I knew you would think her equally precious.”
“That I do,” David said with a smile at his wife. “And
yet... would you both have been happier in the end staying put?”
“We’d both be dead by now, like everyone else on the planet.”
Susan said.
“Maybe not,” The Doctor mused. “The only reason the
Daleks even knew Gallifrey and the Time Lords existed was because I was
there to defeat them every time they tried to conquer another planet.
They might never have attacked Gallifrey but for me.”
“NO!” Rose gasped in horror that he could even think about
it in that way – that Gallifrey was attacked as the Dalek revenge
on him for being their nemesis at every turn. Did he really carry that
guilty feeling in his hearts? But what else could he have done? It was
because he could not stand by and let tyranny have free reign in the universe
that he had given up this life of luxury and wealth and become a homeless
exile. It was an act of courage, of… Rose searched her vocabulary
for the right word. Nobility…. That was it - in the old fashioned
sense of the word like the Knights of the Round Table who gave up home
and family and love to be the defenders of right and truth and justice….
And she stopped before it became the trailer to a superhero television
show, but she knew what she meant.
“If you hadn’t defeated the Daleks on Earth I would be dead
by now,” David said. “We WERE losing until you came along.”
“Our planet died… but so many others survived,” Susan
said. “Especially Earth.”
“They never would give up trying to take Earth,” The Doctor
said. “In every one of my lives I’ve had to face them. Ka
Faraq Gatri…. The Oncoming Storm. I scared them enough to be a part
of their legends. And I faced them again - when they finally came for
my own world. And that time the price was the highest of all.”
“What happened exactly?” Susan asked. “In the Time War?”
But as soon as she said it, she knew it was a mistake.
“Don’t ask me that,” he said. He blinked hard to push
away tears. “I didn’t come out of it unscathed. It’s
the reason I had to regenerate into the body I have now. And my memory
of it was dislocated – shattered. All I have is pieces like a broken
mirror, vague and unconnected. But even if I could remember it….
I couldn’t tell anyone. Not even those closest to me. So please,
don’t ask… don’t any of you ask what happened, or why
or… or what my part in it was. Because I can’t or I won’t,
and that’s all there is to it.”
“I’m sorry, Grandfather,” Susan said, putting her hand
on his. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t,” he said. “THEY did. The most evil
creatures in the universe. They destroyed our world. They hurt us. As
they have hurt so many. THEY are to blame for it all. The ONLY good thing
to come out of their evil is you two… and these beautiful children
of yours.”
He smiled then and made a little joke in Gallifreyan that Susan laughed
at and something else in plain English that set a smile on every other
face as they continued their unusual tea in pleasant talk and tried not
to reflect on what could not be undone.
Afterwards they watched the sun set and the moon rise. Susan cried again
in remembrance of both. The moon had been full the night they left. Its
brightness was one of her most vivid memories. Seeing it again, even in
illusion, meant so much.
And it was enough. It satisfied the longing awoken in her. She was ready
to return to real life now. She told her grandfather. He nodded and agreed.
He called everyone together into a tight huddle, holding hands. “Don’t
look,” he said. “It feels less of a wrench that way. Close
your eyes.” He closed his and thanked the TARDIS for its love and
generosity, for the power it took to make all this real, and told it to
let go now. And a moment later they were standing in the corridor by the
coke machine. Susan laughed at the ordinariness of that place compared
to the wonder they had just experienced. And together they walked out
of the TARDIS, into the early evening of an Earth summer, warm, sweetly
scented with roses, with the dark shadows of a cherry tree and a cúl
tree laden with its alien fruits reminding them of what began this strange
but sweet day. They all looked up at the Earth moon, bright and full above
them.
“Earth is our home now,” The Doctor said. “For all of
us, even me. When, one day in the future, I give up the life I live now,
among the stars, this IS where I am coming back to end my days. It IS
a beautiful planet and I love its people. David, I don’t care that
not one Human has ever properly realised how often I have struggled for
this planet – that I’ve died for it more than once –
I’m just happy that it IS here. Humans are fantastic. This planet
is fantastic. And I love it as much as I ever loved Gallifrey.”
He put his arms about the woman who he loved most from among the people
of Earth and felt a rare moment of absolute content.