“Books,” Vairë said to Donna as the TARDIS landed. “People never really stop loving books,” she added as she pulled on her jacket and slung her sword over her shoulder before ducking out of the ship and into The Library. “Fifty first century,” the blonde gestured to the empty room around them. “By now you’ve got holovids, direct to brain downloads, fiction mist, but you need the smell. The smell of books, Donna. Deep breath,” Vairë sighed happily as she inhaled deeply. The musty smell of many books hit her. When she was younger, she hadn’t liked to read so much, preferring to watch the television. Now, however, she couldn’t imagine her life without books. So many books she’d read because Magnolia had suggested them – The Wheel of Time, The Stormlight Archive, Mistborn, Harry Potter – and so many she’d read to enlighten her own understanding – Philosophiae Naturalis Principia Mathematica, On the Origin of Species, The Universe in a Nutshell, On War, On Liberty, Second Treatise on Civil Government. Books were one thing that mankind never fell out of love with. “The Library. So big it doesn’t need a name. Just a great big The,” she said happily.
“It’s like a city,” Donna said in awe as she gazed around at the shelves of books.
“It’s a world. Literally, a world,” Vairë explained. “The whole core of the planet is the index computer. Biggest hard drive ever. And up here, every book ever written. Whole continents of Jeffrey Archer, Bridget Jones, Monty Python’s Big Red Book. Brand new editions, specially printed.” The two women walked out onto a balcony. Vairë studied it, reasoning out exactly where they were. “We’re near the equator, so this must be biographies. I love biographies,” she sighed happily.
“Yeah, very you. Always a death at the end,” Donna muttered. She winced when she realized what she’d said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” Jenny’s death still caught Vairë unaware sometimes. The blonde was not taking her daughter’s passing easily – not that Donna blamed her.
“You need a good death. Without death, there’d only be comedies. Dying gives us size,” Vairë said simply. There was no way she could tell the redhead how much she longed to die, to finally lay down her burdens and rejoin her daughter. Sometimes she thought that the only person who could convince her to keep going after Jenny would be the Doctor. But then, much as she might love him, he’d never loved her. Not like that. Not enough to convince her to stay on in this life. And, she had the promise from her sister, the TARDIS. They would go out together. As it should be. Their forever would end at the same time. Until then, Vairë just had to keep herself occupied. She would have plenty of stories to share with her baby when she finally departed this life. Just then, Donna picked up a book and began to open it. “Wait now!” Vairë warned, snatching the book away. “Spoilers,” she said, wagging a finger at the redhead.
“What?” Donna asked in shock. Vairë had never tried to stop her from broadening her horizons before.
“These books are from your future,” the blonde explained. “You don’t want to read ahead. Spoil all the surprises. Like peeking at the end.”
“Isn’t travelling with you one big spoiler?” Donna asked.
“I try to keep you away from major plot developments. Which, to be honest, I seem to be very bad at,” Vairë muttered as she walked over to a terminal. “Because, you know what? This is the biggest library in the universe. So where is everyone? It’s silent,” she muttered as she waved her sonic screwdriver over the terminal.
“The Library?” Donna asked.
“The planet,” Vairë muttered, continuing her work. She changed the frequencies, having little success thus far, “The whole planet.”
“Maybe it’s a Sunday,” Donna offered.
“No. I never land on Sundays,” Vairë grimaced. “Sundays are boring.”
“Well, maybe everyone is really, really quiet.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Vairë conceded as she tapped away at the terminal. “But they’d still show up on the system.”
“Vairë, why are we here?” Donna asked. “Really, why?”
“Oh, you know. Just passing through,” Vairë replied absently.
“No, seriously,” Donna demanded, refusing to be dissuaded. “It was all let’s hit the beach, then suddenly we’re in a library. Why?”
“Oh, that’s interesting,” Vairë whispered at the results she got on the terminal.
“What’s interesting?”
“Scanning for life forms,” Vairë answered. “If I do a scan looking for your basic humanoids. You know, your book readers, few limbs and a face, apart from us, I get nothing. Zippo, nada. See? Nobody home. But if I widen the parameters to any kind of life,” she gestured towards the screen. “A million, million. Gives up after that. A million, million,” Vairë whispered in wonder.
“But there’s nothing here. There’s no one,” Donna pointed out.
“And not a sound. A million. million life forms, and silence in the library,” Vairë muttered, trying to figure out just what could be going on.
“But there’s no one here,” Donna growled. “There’s just books. I mean, it’s not the books, is it? I mean, it can’t be the books, can it? I mean, books can’t be alive.”
“Welcome,” a feminine voice said, making both women jump in fright.
“That came from here,” Donna whispered.
“Yeah,” Vairë agreed.
“I am Courtesy Node seven one zero slash aqua. Please enjoy the Library and respect the personal access codes of all your fellow readers, regardless of species or hygiene taboo,” the disembodied voice continued. A sculpture, looking very real, turned to stare at the two visitors.
“That face,” Donna muttered, “it looks real.”
“Yeah. Don’t worry about it,” Vairë soothed.
“A statue with a real face, though? It’s a hologram or something, isn’t it?” Donna asked.
“No, but really, it’s fine,” Vairë temporized. She would have to explain about facial donations later, once they were somewhere safe where Donna could freak out in peace.
“Additional,” the courtesy node said. “There follows a brief message from the Head Librarian for your urgent attention. It has been edited for tone and content by a Felman Lux Automated Decency Filter. Message follows. Run. For God’s sake, run. No way is safe. The library has sealed itself, we can’t. Oh, they’re here. Argh. Slarg. Snick. Message ends. Please switch off your mobile comm units for the comfort of other readers.”
“So that’s why we’re here,” Vairë breathed. “Any other messages, same date stamp?” she demanded of the courtesy node.
“One additional message. This message carries a Felman Lux coherency warning of five zero eleven,” the node replied.
“Yeah, yeah, fine, fine, fine. Just play it,” Vairë growled.
“Message follows. Count the shadows. For God’s sake, remember, if you want to live, count the shadows. Message ends.”
Vairë began to shake. She’d heard of these things before. She’d never encountered one on her own but she had heard enough about them to know that she and Donna were in real trouble. They could both die here. And, though she longed for death, Vairë didn’t want to die like this. She didn’t want Donna to die like this, either. “Donna,” she hissed.
“Yeah?”
“Stay out of the shadows.”
“Why? What’s in the shadows?” the redhead asked as she followed Vairë through a pair of doors. The blonde knew that they should head back to the TARDIS and safety but she couldn’t help wandering a bit. She’d received a message and, at the very least, she wanted to know who it was from and why. She supposed that she couldn’t resist that all-too-human curiosity, that wonder at what might lie ahead for her. “So, we weren’t just in the neighborhood,” Donna surmised.
“Yeah, I kind of, sort of lied a bit. I got a message on the psychic paper,” Vairë replied, holding up the paper. It read ‘The library. Come as soon as you can. Xoxo.’ “So, what do you think?” she asked.
“Cry for help with a kiss?”
“Oh, we’ve all done that,” Vairë muttered, thinking back to her younger days when she was still human. How many times had she signed a note with kisses? Too many to count.
“Who’s it from?” Donna asked.
“No idea,” Vairë admitted.
“So why did we come here? Why did you…” Donna demanded.
“Donna,” Vairë interrupted. The lights behind them were going out.
“What’s happening?” Donna whispered.
“Run!” Vairë shouted, grabbing the other woman’s hand and leading her away from the darkening shadows.
~*~*~*~
Vairë stared at Professor River Song. It had to be a coincidence. After all, there were plenty of people named “River.” There was River Phoenix, Rivers Cuomu, River Hanson…it wasn’t an uncommon name. No matter that Magnolia had asked her to name her own daughter ‘River.’ It wasn’t as if she would be the only woman in history to give her kid that moniker, right? Vairë tried to ignore the fact that River had eyes the exact same shade of brown as the Doctor and that her curly blonde hair reminded her of Jackie when she hadn’t dried her hair out straight. Reinette was blonde as well!
The sight of Professor Song – never River, never! – was not the perfect blend of Vairë’s features and the Doctor’s. She could not be related to them. There had to be another explanation, there just had to be! No matter that River had whispered “Bad Wolf” into her ear. No matter that something inside Vairë screamed that she could trust this woman. No matter that River seemed to know her whole future. River Song just couldn’t be her daughter. She couldn’t!
“You, me, handcuffs,” River was muttering as she settled into a chair nearby. Vairë still stared at the woman in shock. She herself had been about to make the connection with the computer core that would allow all of those stored in its memory banks to re-materialize using the transporter system. Then, she’d felt something hard strike the back of her head. When she’d regained consciousness, she’d been securely handcuffed to a railing and River Song was busy making adjustments to the machinery. “Dad always hated it when one of us handcuffed the other. He swore that he’d never seen a mother and daughter who acted quite like we did. Of course, it amused Uncle Koschei and Jack to no end. You can thank Harkness for that pair,” she added, nodding towards the railing. “The man does have a gift for such things. They were an anniversary gift, Mum. One you did not approve of at all,” she sighed.
“You’re married to Jack Harkness?” Vairë stammered in disbelief. “I’m your mother?”
“Yes, Mum. And that means that you’ve known about this the whole time,” River grimaced. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks. “You knew and you never told me!”
“River, please, baby,” Vairë said, letting her own tears fall as she realized she was about to lose another daughter, “please. Let me do this. Go home. Go back to your husband and your Dad.”
“No, Mummy, I can’t,” River wept. “If I don’t do this, I’ll never be born. And Aunt Maggie, Daddy, and Uncle Koschei all made certain that the six of us knew about paradoxes. I can’t let you tear the universe apart.”
“River, I am your mother! You will obey me! If you don’t,” Vairë said, grasping for some argument to use, “if you don’t let me out of these handcuffs, I’ll ground you!”
“I’m sorry, Mum, but I can’t. I just can’t! If you die here, then Dad will kill himself. I’ll never be born. Neither will James or Jacqueline or Susan or Harry or the one you’re carrying now – future you, I mean. I was looking forward to having another little brother or sister. You have so much of your life ahead of you. Soon, you’ll be back with Dad. The two of you will get married. You’ve told us all the stories about that. About the Medusa Cascade and Uncle Caan and the Song. I remember being grossed out by the way you and Dad couldn’t keep your hands off each other. Mummy, just make certain that the little brother or sister I’ll never meet knows about me and knows that I love them.”
“River, don’t do this to me!” Vairë wept. “Please! Let me take your place! I can’t lose another child! I can’t live through this again!”
“You wouldn’t tell me why, but I suppose you knew it was time. My time. Time to come to the library. You even gave me your screwdriver. That should have been a clue,” River sobbed. “There’s nothing you can do,”
“You can let me do this,” Vairë shouted angrily.
“You have to, Mum. You have to live. If you die here…I’ll never have existed.”
“Time can be rewritten!” Vairë screamed.
“Not those times. Not one line. Don’t you dare! It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s not over for you. You’ll see me again. You’ve got all of that to come. You and me and Daddy and Sissy! All of time and space. You watch us run, Mummy. You just watch us run!”
The computer had been counting down the seconds until autodestruct. Vairë winced, her cheeks wet with tears and her wrist pouring blood as she struggled against the handcuffs. River, her daughter, her baby, sat stoically, the two pieces of fat cabling in her hands. When the disembodied voice said “one,” River touched the cables together. Live current jumped between them, searing River’s body. Vairë screamed as she watched her daughter’s body burn in front of her. Her daughter by an unknown father was dying, screaming in front of her, and she could do nothing. She could feel the TARDIS trying to comfort her. Vairë didn’t want comfort. She wanted death. Yet another one of her precious babies was dying in front of her and she could do nothing to stop it.
Finally, after several long minutes, the blinding light faded. Vairë was able to break out of the handcuffs, her bound wrist bleeding from where she’d ripped the skin apart fighting the restraint. She walked over to the burned spacesuit and stared down at it. The ashes marring its clean finish were the ashes of her own daughter. She opened her mouth and began to sing the same song she had sung for Jenny. “Mummy will join you, River,” she whispered when she finished. “In the West. Mummy will be there soon, baby. Just wait for me, River. Just wait for me.”
Turning her back and heading up to the main floor, Vairë, who had once been Rose Tyler, tried to swallow the lump in her throat.
~*~*~*~
“Are you all right?” Donna asked. River’s sacrifice had freed all of the people saved by the Computer Core from their digital prison. Donna had been looking for a man named “Lee,” her dreamed-up, perfect husband. Not finding him, she’d quickly rejoined the Galliterran woman who had brought her to this place.
“I’m always all right,” Vairë said blankly, not wanting to think about what had happened.
“Is ‘all right’ special Galliterran code for ‘really not all right at all?’” Donna asked softly. Vairë turned her head and regarded the other woman. Donna’s face was tight and drawn with sorrow.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I’m all right, too,” Donna muttered before she broke down into sobs. “I’m all right, too!” Vairë gathered the redhead into her arms and rubbed her back. Her own sobs stuck in her throat. Her body was tight, struggling against the wild bout of weeping that threatened her. In the back of her mind, she could feel the TARDIS trying to give her comfort and strength.
“Come on,” Vairë whispered, unwilling to tell the other woman the whole truth. It still hurt too much, right now, to even think about it.
“Your friend, Professor Song,” Donna muttered. “She knew both of us in the future. What happens to me? Because when she heard my name, the way she looked at me…” Donna shuddered.
“Donna, this is her diary,” Vairë sighed wearily as she gestured at the TARDIS-blue bound book. “My future. I could look you up. What do you think? Shall we peek at the end?” she asked as if she already knew the answer.
“Spoilers, right?”
“Right,” Vairë nodded as the two of them began to walk away from the tempting diary, back towards the TARDIS. Then, before Donna could protest, Vairë ran back to the diary and threw it open. The sonic screwdriver, the device that was almost a perfect match for the one she carried in her own pockets, flashed in front of her, hidden in the binding. “Why? Why would I give her my screwdriver?” Vairë asked as if she did not expect an answer. “Why would I do that? Thing is, future me had years to think about it, all those years to think of a way to save her, and what she did was give her a screwdriver. Why would I do that?” Vairë ripped the other screwdriver out of the binding and stared at it in fascination. It looked like one of the devices the archeologists had worn. Two lights blinked. “Oh! Oh! Oh, look at that. I’m very good!” she laughed.
“What have you done?” Donna shouted in confusion.
“Saved her!” Vairë replied as she began running. She reached the elevator platform and set it to descend at maximum. “Stay with me! You can do it, stay with me! Come on, you and me, one last run!” she shouted at her daughter. The second-to-last light went out. Vairë dove off the platform and straight into the gravity well, willing it to pull her down to the Computer Core more quickly. “Sorry, River, shortcut!” she screamed as the cosmic forces pulled at her. Before Vairë knew it, she was on the ground. Rolling to her feet, she ran and jammed the screwdriver home. River would live. Her daughter would be part of the Computer Core – but alive, after a fashion. Perhaps one day, she would return home to her mother and father, to her husband and children. Offering a swift prayer for her daughter, Vairë returned to the elevator that would take her back to Donna and to the future that yet stretched before her.
~*~*~*~
“Just this once,” River sighed, quoting both her mother and her father, “everyone lives.” The figures of her own archeological expedition appeared around her. The hazy figures of the children that she and Jack would have had appeared in their beds. “Just this once,” River whispered. “Everyone lives.”