Vairë rubbed her head. It ached constantly, now. She could feel her sister’s fear and sickness. The Master had begun altering her, turning her into a paradox machine. “He was such a sweet old man back there with the rocket,” she muttered to herself.
She’d managed to get on board the TARDIS before the Master had finished regenerating. Her plan had been to try to imprison him until she could figure out if he was dangerous or not. She knew little about him – apparently, the Doctor knew him but the TARDIS did not. Other than a few encounters with him here and there, her sister was largely ignorant about the Master. Well, both women were learning about him now, albeit the hard way.
He was a man of extremes and opposites. He had married a human woman and Vairë thought it was pretty obvious that he felt more than just attraction for her. Lucy Saxon was a pretty decent woman and she seemed to adore the Master for what he could show her. Granted, that wasn’t much because Vairë had managed to lock the TARDIS down to two places: London 2008 and the year one hundred trillion. The Master masqueraded as a human called Harold Saxon. He was running for Prime Minister of the UK. And, aside from imprisoning Vairë, he hadn’t hurt her. Okay, maybe the whole turning the TARDIS into a paradox machine, thus triggering headaches and nausea could be counted as harming her but it wasn’t like he was doing it with that end in mind.
“You know,” he said as he strolled into the room. “You fascinate me.”
“I do?” Vairë asked absently as she rubbed her head.
“You do,” he nodded. “I’ve run all kinds of tests on you. You’re completely unique. There’s never been anything like you before. And your telepathic powers…they’re so strong. I’ll bet you could register Basic 70 at least. But you use them so crudely.”
“Comes with being unique, I guess. No one to teach me better. You know, you’re somewhat interesting yourself, Master.”
“Oh, I do love it when you call me that, Weaver.”
“I know. Of course, you used to be a completely decent fellow. What happened to that boy? What drove him to this? What is it you’re planning?”
“That boy died when he looked into the Untempered Schism,” the Master said coldly. “The drums, the constant drums…they killed him.”
Vairë nodded. She could catch the edge of his thoughts. Whenever she got him to talk about his past, his mental shields slipped a little and she could pick up some of his memories. She was careful not to actually try to enter his mind. He would pick up on that immediately and might decide to make her imprisonment worse than just being locked in a room with a bed and a small bathroom attached. “The initiation could be cruel,” she said after a long pause.
“See, this is why you fascinate me. You know things that only another Gallifreyan should know but you’re not from Gallifrey at all. Who told you these things? Did some Time Lord take you for his pet and whisper things to you when you were abed with him?”
“No. Little bit weirder than that, I’m afraid. I got adopted by the TARDIS. I’m her sister. She’s told me a lot about your world. She’s homesick.”
“Well, your TARDIS is in my capable hands and she’ll be put to good use.”
“As a paradox machine?”
“How the hell do you know that?” he asked, confounded.
“She knows what you’re doing to her and she’s told me about it. Frankly, if you keep up with this, I’m going to remove bits of my skull because the headaches are doing me in.”
“You’re not kidding,” he said flatly. “You really are her sister.”
“I am. She’s the only family I’ve got left. So I really do wish you’d quit hurting her.”
“You really think I’ll stop my plans just because some freak of nature asks me nicely?” the Master quipped.
“No. But why are you doing this? Why create a stable paradox? What is it you’re after?”
“I want to hurt the Doctor.”
“Why?”
“Because he killed them. He killed them all. He loves this little planet with its little people. So, I’m going to destroy it. And then, I’ll launch a new Empire of Time Lords. We’ll rule the cosmos.”
“That still doesn’t explain why you need a paradox to pull it off.”
“Oh, but that would be telling, now wouldn’t it? Well, you’ve taken enough of my time for now, dear Vairë. We’ll talk later.”
“Sure thing,” she said pleasantly. “Though, would you mind it if Lucy visited me? And maybe brought some paracetamol? My head is killing me.”
The Master said nothing as he walked out of the room, locking the door securely behind him. Vairë hadn’t expected him to. But Lucy might come. She might even bring some pills for Vairë’s head. The Master was a right bastard sometimes, though, so she couldn’t count on it. She’d been his prisoner for several months now. In a short time, the election would happen and he might become Prime Minister. Vairë knew enough about his plans to know that they wouldn’t go into effect until after that. So, she had a few months. A few months to try to pull the good man she could see hiding deep within the Master out of him. A few months to try to stop him. She wished that Martha and Jack were with her, though. A few months more with only the Master’s visits were going to be a difficult to live through.
~*~*~*~
The Master studied the girl on the other side of the mirror. She’d been his prisoner for months now. And, he thought he knew who she was. He’d just returned from giving his speech at the memorial for those lost in the Battle of Canary Wharf. Several questions sprang to the front of his mind as he regarded her. One, how had she survived the battle? How had she known all of the things she knew? How had she piloted the TARDIS? How had she been able to help him back at the end of the universe? Who was she? What was she? And why hadn’t she tried to escape or kill him? Truly, this girl was unlike anyone he’d ever met before.
Shaking his head and trying to mute the sound of the ever-present drums, he walked into her prison room. “Rose Tyler,” he said brightly.
“I hate it when people call me that,” she groaned, rubbing her head.
“But it’s your name. Rose Marion Tyler.”
“It was. Long ago.”
“How long ago? A year?”
“Nope,” she said, popping the “p.” “Try about four hundred or so of them.”
“Not possible.”
“Apparently, it is.”
“You know, I’ve run tests on your tissue and blood samples. Idle curiosity. I do so love playing with rare specimens. You’re a hybrid. You’re still part human. You’re also part TARDIS.”
“Not surprised,” Vairë shrugged. “So what does that make me? HuDIS? TARman?”
“It makes you impossible.”
“Oh, you keep using that word…”
“No, really. You are impossible. You cannot possibly exist.”
“Again with that word. Dear Koschei, it doesn’t mean what you think it means.”
The Master blinked and recoiled. He stepped backwards until he hit the opposite wall. “How do you know my old name?”
“You told it to me. Well, not exactly told it to me. But you were thinking about your childhood and your best friend Theta and you weren’t shielding your thoughts. Didn’t you tell me I’m a fairly strong telepath? Don’t blame me for picking up things that you throw out there.”
“Does your head still bother you?”
“Yes. Are you still planning to do whatever it is you planned to do?”
“Yes.”
“Why? Why go to all these lengths to hurt the Doctor? What did he do to you?”
“Good old Theta. He and I were best friends once. But after everything he’s done, I want him to suffer the way I’ve suffered. All those years, trapped in that human body, hiding out at the end of the universe…trying to get away from the War. From the drums. Whenever I told him about the drums, he told me they weren’t real. That it’s all just in my head.”
“But they are real,” Vairë sighed. She beat out a quick four staccatos on the wall with her fingers. “Rat-tat-tat-tat…going on and on and on, driving you crazy.”
“You believe me?”
“Believe you? I can hear them, too.”
“That’s impossible!”
“And again with that word!”
“I like you,” the Master grinned, his face looking years younger. “I like coming in here and talking with you. Every time I do it, I feel better. Why do I feel better?”
“I dunno. I have a few theories,” Vairë shrugged. “Does your liking me give me any chance of getting a decent shower?”
“You do realize that you’ve not once tried to escape. I’ve given you several opportunities just to see if you would do it.”
“I’m not as clever as you, Koschei. I won’t be able to undo the damage you’ve done to my sister. So, I’m staying here until I can convince you to do that. I’m not going to run away. I’m not going to abandon her. She’s been abandoned once already. So, I’ll stay here. I’ll suffer through these headaches. And I’m going to do everything in my power to convince you to make her well again. Still, I could really use a proper hot shower.”
“I suppose I could give you the freedom of the house…” he said, sounding doubtful. “Just don’t wander off. I like having you around and until I can figure out why that is, I don’t want you leaving.”
“I think I know the answer to that, Koschei. Your people were telepathic. You were connected to them telepathically. But they’re gone. It must be so lonely and empty in your head. Silence where once there were millions of impersonal voices. Then you stumble across a telepath like me – one who honestly has no clue what she’s doing. I fill some of that emptiness. That’s why you’re so drawn to me. And, frankly, having you around makes my head feel less empty as well. I haven’t had a single psychic storm since you captured me. So, I’m not eager to rush off either even if I’m not exactly thrilled with your plans to destroy my home planet. Still, gesture of good faith,” she sighed, walking over to him and holding her hand up. “If I may?” he nodded and she pressed her fingertips against his temple. She wasn’t exactly sure of what she was doing. However, she could tell that the drumbeats were not coming from within his mind. So, she concentrated and closed off the signal. It was still there but it no longer reverberated in his head.
“How did you do that?” the Master asked, his eyes wide with shock and his face pale. “They’ve been in my head for centuries. No one ever believed that they were real. Everyone thought I was mad.”
“Well, they are real and you aren’t mad. Some kind of signal, I think. I just blocked it off a bit. It’s still there. And, well, I know how it feels to have something constantly going through your mind no matter how hard you try to shut it out.”
“Your psychic storms.” Vairë nodded. “Those happen because your telepathy isn’t exactly natural and because you’ve not been trained. For you, it really all is in your head. It’s probably a side effect of your brain’s chemistry and structure being altered. I can…,” he took a deep breath. Why was he offering to help this woman out? And why had she granted him peace without asking for anything in return other than a hot shower? Especially after she knew his plans. “I can help you with them. I can’t help you get rid of them entirely. Only you can do that. However…I may have to trigger one so I can see what it does to you and can help you figure out the reason it exists. Do you trust me?”
Vairë looked into his eyes. She could see the man he could become in them. The Master hadn’t always been terrible. The drums, the constant beating drums, had never given him a chance to rest. And he’d been through so much. She didn’t know the details but she could see it in his eyes. He’d done many terrible things in his life but there was still good in him. In a way, he reminded her of the Doctor when they’d first met. The Doctor needed someone who trusted him, someone who he could trust, in order to start healing. This man needed the same. She nodded. “I trust you.”
The Master let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Then he lifted his hand to the blonde woman’s temple while he continued to look into her hazel eyes. He winced at what he was going to have to do. There were golden barriers around the part of her mind that housed the storm. Those barriers were strong – they’d been reinforced by three different people. However, they had gaps. He studied the storm, hearing the words and voices, living the memories that accompanied them. But, as the storm began to reach its peak, he heard other voices, warm, loving voices, calling Vairë back.
What? Close the breach? Stop the Cybermen? Defeat the Daleks? Do you believe I can do that?
Yes.
You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. The things you’ve shown me, the things I’ve learned traveling with you…they mean the world to me.
You’re wonderful, Rose-a-lee. Never forget that.
No one even stopped to thank you for what you did. But I am. Thanks, Vairë. Thanks for saving all our lives. Thanks for being the wonderful person you are. You mum…God, she must be so proud of you.
Carefully, the Master withdrew from Vairë’s mind. He smiled. He hadn’t needed to trigger the storm at all. It was held at bay already. And perhaps, in time, the girl in front of him would have enough good memories to banish the bad ones.
“Well then,” he said brightly. “I do believe you wanted a shower. And Lucy would like it if you joined us for dinner tonight. She gets so tired of it just being me and her. I think she’d like another woman to talk to about…whatever it is you women talk about when we’re not around.”
“Oh, that’s just the usual stuff, then,” Vairë grinned back. She could tell that something was shifting in the Time Lord. Something good was waking up inside of him. “You know, plotting to take over the universe without letting you blokes know what we’re doing. Trying to figure out what’s going to happen on the next episode of Eastenders. Debating quantum mechanics while planning out our next big dress party. Oh, and painting our nails. Can’t forget that bit. That’s important.”
~*~*~*~
The Master marveled at how a few months spent with Vairë had completely changed him. Or rather, not completely. But something about her reached out to him and made him want to be better. Want to be good. Want to see her smile and nod at him in approval. She had the run of the house now. He’d even released the Jones family. He’d called off the search for the Doctor and his companions. And now, he was sitting in 10 Downing Street with the various ministers he had planned to kill. He was going to let them live. Soon, he knew, he’d undo the paradox machine. Earth would continue on its merry course. He’d have some fun as Prime Minister before settling down to a life with Lucy. Or maybe he could convince Vairë to let him get a TARDIS coral from her so he could try his hand at growing one for himself. Or the three of them could travel around. He’d do his best to keep Vairë from running headlong into danger, though. Now that he had her, he didn’t want to lose her.
He still couldn’t believe that the Doctor had left her. Had the other Time Lord not known what he had with Vairë? Had he been blind to what she was? Regardless of his reasons, the Master was appalled at his fellow Time Lord’s behavior. Theta had always been so obsessed with humans. He’d loved them and their planet. He’d constantly been full of how amazing they were, living out their singular short lives with such brilliance and passion. And then, when he had the opportunity to travel with the brightest star of the human race, he’d passed it up to hang out with a French courtesan.
He pushed the thoughts from his mind. All they would do was make him angry. And when he got angry, he did stupid things. Instead, he thought about the telepathic exercises he would teach Vairë tonight. That was one area where he was better than the Doctor. Less than a month into training her, he had already taught her how to defend against external attacks, how to organize her mind, how to handle an invasive presence, and how to form a telepathic bond with others to heal them. She was a quick study. He thought about the stories she’d told him of her travels. He thought about the lessons in TARDIS engineering he was going to give her.
The business of the day was soon dispensed with and the Master made his way home. He gave a delighted Lucy a quick kiss before ruffling Vairë’s hair affectionately and telling her to meet him up in his office after he got washed up. Lucy followed him up to their rooms and stood nervously by as he washed his face and hands.
“Something troubling you, sweetheart?” he asked.
“Well…I’ve got some news for you,” she replied. “Just not sure how you’re going to take it.”
“Nothing bad, I hope. How’s your stomach? You’ve been feeling poorly for a week now.”
“Um…yeah…about that,” she grimaced. “Um…”
“Come have a glass of wine with Vairë and me and tell us about it?” he suggested.
“Might not be a good idea. The wine, I mean…”
He stared at her for a minute, calculations running through his mind. “You’re not?”
“Yeah. I am.”
“Oh but that’s brilliant news!” It was strange. He’d had children before. But he couldn’t recall ever being so delighted about it. “Of course, no wine for you, Mrs. Saxon. Maybe you ought to go to bed early. Get some rest. I’ll have the kitchens send up a double-portion of dinner for you.”
“You’re not upset?”
“Why would I be?”
“I dunno…just…the whole conquest thing…and all…”
“Oh that? That’s off the table entirely.”
“She really has changed you,” Lucy Saxon said in awe. “She really has.”
“She has. Are you upset? Or jealous?”
“No. Not at all. Amazed is more like it. She does that to everyone, you know. The Jones family…Francine and Clive got back together. Because of her. I’m even working on a degree in psychology because of her. I wonder how she does it…it’s like everyone she touches, she makes them better. She makes you see things in yourself you didn’t know were even there.”
“I know,” the Master grinned. “I think it’s magic. When I first got here, all I could do was think about how I was going to destroy this little planet and its silly little ape-people. How I was going to rip the universe apart and rule over the ashes. But every day, I talked to her. Sometimes only for a few minutes. Sometimes for several hours. She started to rub off on me and I found myself wanting to hope again, to dream, to be better. She even believed me about the drums and she made them stop. She’s an impossible thing. She even once flat out told me she was going to try to make me change, to make me be a better man. I thought it was impossible but I’ve learned to quit using that word with her. Now, go get some rest. I have a TARDIS to repair and a little sister to visit with.”
~*~*~*~
“Koschei,” Vairë said with a grin as he ducked into the office with a huge smile on his face. “I take it Lucy told you the good news?”
“That you’re going to be an auntie? Yes. It’s brilliant.”
“Here, poured you a glass of Scotch to celebrate your impending fatherhood.”
“Pour yourself one as well to celebrate your sister’s return to health.”
“I knew you would do it,” Vairë laughed. “I felt her change a bit ago. You’re good.”
“No, I’m better. Because of you.”
“Right, so, tonight’s lesson?”
“Vairë, I don’t think I can do a lesson tonight. All I can think about is how happy I am.”
“Well, then, there’s something I’d like to try if you don’t mind.”
“What is it?”
“I want to figure out where the hell those drums are coming from. It’s a signal, Koschei. A signal that someone has been transmitting to your mind ever since you looked into the Untempered Schism. I would like to find out who the hell it was that decided to drive you insane. Think of how different your life could have been if you hadn’t been wrestling with madness for most of it.”
“Right now, Vairë, I wouldn’t change a minute of it. But, if you think you can trace the signal, then by all means, you have my permission.”
“You may have to help me. I’m going to unblock the signal so you will probably start hearing them again. But, if we can trace it back to its source – maybe using the TARDIS to help us – then I can try to convince whoever it is to shut it off and leave you in peace. Right after I get done telling them off for doing this to you.”
“It wasn’t entirely the drums, Vairë,” the Master sighed. “I’ve done a lot of horrific things in my time. Oh, I could always justify them up to now. But…I don’t know what you’ve done to me except that I like it even if it does make me feel guilty for all of the things I’ve done, the people I’ve hurt and killed. I’m resigning tomorrow. I’m stepping down as Prime Minister. I thought maybe we could go to some new planet, you, me and Lucy, and I could do some kind of penance. I did a lot of good things back when I was Professor Yana. Remembering those makes the guilt easier to bear, sometimes.”
“Time in its infinite flows, divisions, and threads, shows that there is no one original cause. That the warp and weave of reality can create loops and twisted causalities which can confound the mind of any observer. Therefore, while any event may seem to be part of a chain or series, determining the exact point of origination, the primal cause of that chain, can be impossible,” she quoted with a grin.
“I see you’ve been reading your Rassilon,” the Master laughed. “He’s a pompous old bastard but a smart one.”
“Yeah. I still think Omega was smarter.”
“Many do. Many think that Rassilon stole his knowledge from Omega. What do you mean by quoting that particular passage to me?”
“Well, I mean that the drums might not have caused you to do all that you did – you definitely had it out for Theta. However, if the drums had never started, would you have become such a rival of his? Would that animosity have occurred between the two of you if there had been no drums and thus no sense that he was mocking you when you told him about them? Would you have become so isolated, felt so cut off from your own kind, if you had not had the constant pounding in your head? Perhaps the drums are not the primal cause of your actions but they most certainly were a factor which means that whoever is behind them is partly to blame for the things you did. Unfortunately, we cannot wind back the thread of a life and reweave it once it has been woven into Time’s Infinite Tapestry,” she continued, quoting Rassilon again, “the warp and weave of the life are already set. Thus are points within the Tapestry fixed and immobile. Thus is it inadvisable to actively cross one’s own timeline. The resultant chaos from interference with fixed points can result in paradoxes.”
“You really have been doing your reading, young lady,” Koschei grinned. “Were we back on Gallifrey, I’d have given you a large piece of nutbread for remembering your lessons so well. And, I get the point you are driving at. Ultimately, I cannot undo what I have done. Instead, I have to live with it and seek to redress the balance.”
“Spoken like a true Chronarch,” Vairë grinned. “Now, shall we?” she asked, moving to stand beside him and lifting her hands so that her fingers touched his temples. She closed her eyes and, following the lessons he had given her, began trying to trace the drums back to their point of origin.
~*~*~*~
Vairë felt herself surrounded by darkness. She could feel Koschei’s presence with her. They were following the drums, the constant, never-ending drums. The signal came from far away and long ago. She felt herself slam into something solid and then was jerked through it. Light pushed against her eyelids and she opened her eyes, stunned to see herself and Koschei sprawled on the floor of a strange chamber. Several men in red robes with gold embroidery stared at her as if she were some kind of rodent streaking across the dining room floor. One of them held a staff and wore a single metal gauntlet. Behind him, an older woman with soft brown hair that bore streaks of silver covered her face with her hands.
Where are we? Vairë asked Koschei.
I don’t bloody believe it. We’re in the Council of the Time Lords. On Gallifrey. Before the end of the Last Great Time War.
But the Time War is time-locked. Nothing in or out. Still, the signal is coming from here…Oh sweet hell, is that who I think it is?
“What manner of filth have you brought before us, wayward and diseased son of Gallifrey?” the gauntleted man with the staff demanded angrily, glaring at Koschei.
“Lord President Rassilon,” Koschei said, standing up and helping Vairë to her feet. “May I present my sister, Vairë?”
“What manner of thing is she?”
“Something new entirely. And you will not harm her,” he added threateningly, glaring at the guards who were moving towards them.
“Lord President Rassilon,” Vairë said, inclining her head slightly, “I’m quite a fan of your works.”
“Amazing that such a primitive ape has the gall to address me. Do it again and I will have your tongue, child. Now, what are you doing here with this creature? The time is not yet. You are here too early.”
Koschei gave Vairë an apologetic glance. I’d forgotten how big an asshole Rassilon could be, he told her silently. “She is not a primitive. With her help, I have made great strides in overcoming my madness. She discovered that the drums were a signal. Together, we traced the signal to here.” Rassilon blanched slightly and began to study Vairë. Koschei moved to stand between them. If the Lord President wanted to take the woman he considered to be his little sister, Rassilon would have to do it over Koschei’s dead body. Or consciousness. Or whatever.
The woman who had covered her face with her hands lifted it and regarded Vairë and Koschei calmly. Waves of tranquility and acceptance flowed from her. Koschei gasped in recognition. That was Theta’s mother! She’d practically been his second mother back when he and Theta were children.
“It was you,” Vairë said, moving around Koschei to stand toe-to-toe with Rassilon. “You’re the one who sent the drums. You sent that signal all the way back through time, through the Untempered Schism. The only question is why. Why did you do that?”
“Rein the primitive in or…”
“Oh no,” Vairë said. Even back when she’d been simple Rose Tyler, she hadn’t let people walk over her like that. Well, not after Jimmy. “No. See, that’s not how we’re playing this game. You can call me every name in the book. I don’t give a shit. But you hurt an innocent child. You drove him mad. Unless you’re even more evil than the Beast I encountered on Krop Tor, you had to have a reason for that. Now, let me think. We’re here, in the Council of Time Lords on Gallifrey. We slammed into the Time Lock. That means that this is at the end of the Time War. Right now, your people are out fighting the Daleks. The Doctor is on the verge of destroying both your races. You sent a signal from here and now to Koschei. Why?” The dark-haired older woman smiled. Vairë nodded to her. She felt almost familiar, almost as if she were someone Vairë should know.
“You’re trying to escape the Time War,” Koschei said quietly. “You wanted me to help you escape the Moment. So that you could survive.”
“Koschei,” Vairë said, her voice beginning to quiver. “This is the Last Day, isn’t it? The Moment is approaching, isn’t it? Only we’re here out of order. We’re screwing up your plans, aren’t we? Koschei’s not supposed to regain his sanity. He’s supposed to stay mad and then you use that, you use that blind spot in his brilliance to trick him! I can see…God in Heaven…I can see what you’re thinking,” she whispered in horror, staring at Rassilon, her hazel eyes wide and flashing gold. “You were going to pull Gallifrey through the Time Lock and towards Earth. The Earth would have been ripped apart. Six billion people would have died. And from there, with the Daleks gone…you’d have slaughtered the cosmos. You think corporeal life is weak. You want to exist as beings of pure consciousness. Because the War has driven all of you mad!”
“How dare you intrude upon my thoughts, you primitive…”
“Oh, I’m not just any old primitive,” Vairë glared. “I’m half TARDIS! The last TARDIS of Gallifrey shared her life force with me and changed me. And the TARDISes were here before you lot! They slept and dreamed while your kind were still single-celled creatures swimming in an ocean of primordial soup! And no TARDIS, no true child of Gallifrey, would drive one of their own mad just so they could have the chance to slaughter the cosmos!”
“So, you would condemn the Time Lords to death. You. A human girl. A mutant. A thing that shouldn’t exist. You will end a billion years of Time Lord history because you can’t see that the end justifies the means?”
“I’d like to register a complaint about those particular means,” Koschei interjected, trying to get their attention off Vairë. What was the woman doing?
“The Time Lords as they are now…the things you have become, yes, they must die,” Vairë said coldly. “You’re all mad. The lot of you. The horrors of war have turned you from the bright, shining children of Gallifrey you were into dark, monstrous horrors. But…a billion years of Time Lord history and countless more billions of years of Gallifreyan history need not die here and now. I can offer you a chance to live on…but through others.”
“Vairë, what the hell are you doing?” Koschei asked in a sing-song whisper.
“Giving them a chance.” The Time Lords in the chamber seemed stunned at the thought of one like Vairë even existing, let alone staring down their Lord President and dictating terms to him. “Listen to me and listen well,” Vairë said. “If you escape the Time Lock, you won’t achieve what you’re after. Instead, you’ll destroy every other form of life in the universe. Then, like a snake in the grips of starvation, you’ll turn in on yourselves. You’ll stuff your tails in your own mouths and devour yourselves! And then nothing will be left. The universe will be one vast graveyard, filled with the bones and ashes of shattered dreams and hopes. Look at me!” she shouted, drawing instinctively on the Time Vortex. The brown in her eyes faded entirely and they became brightly glowing, swirling golden vortices. “Look at me and see what you will become if you succeed!”
The entire Council chamber was filled with a vision that came not just from Vairë but from her sister, the TARDIS. The TARDIS, like all of her kind, could scan ahead, looking down the diverging Time Lines. It was part of her nature. It was part of what allowed her species to travel through time and space. Vairë had the ability – albeit in extremely muted form compared to a true TARDIS – but her tiny ability was enough to stagger the Time Lords and Ladies gathered around her. They saw the truth of her words. They would bleed the universe dry. They would destroy the “lesser races.” Entire planets, systems, and galaxies would be consumed in the Time Lords’ quest for incorporeal immortality. They would give themselves over to that singular obsession. No new children of Gallifrey would be born or Loomed. In time, though, the relentless grinding of time, the universe would work against them. They would die out. And there would be nothing but silence and darkness where once there was music and life.
“The Moment must arrive,” Vairë said, her Londoner accent gone and her voice reverberating with the power of the Vortex. “The Moment must come to pass. All of you must die. The Moment is one of the fixed points upon which the entire universe hinges. However, through us, the history of your people, the genetic information stored in the Looms, the entire memory of your civilization can be salvaged. The Time Lords will never rise again. Gallifrey must fall and burn. But…a new order built atop the memory of old can be born. And they shall be better. No longer cut off from the flow of Time. No longer sealing themselves away from the pulse of Nature and of Life. They will be part of the universe around them, not merely observing it as it grows onwards and outwards, leaving them buried in the past. They will bear a new name…and from us, from both of us: Gallifreyan and human, they shall spring, rise, and live, even unto the end of time and the universe itself.”
“And how is this to be accomplished?” Rassilon asked. This woman was drawing on the Time Vortex! She was connected to it and lived. Even a Time Lord – even he himself – would have burned to ash. “How do you propose to do this?”
“From a link with me, with us,” Vairë said, her voice continuing to throb with the power of the Time Vortex. “The TARDIS can store the information safely away. We will find a new planet, in a new system, one like Gallifrey. We will implant life on that planet and guide its evolution. We will create a new Untempered Schism for the Schism was born from the nature of the TARDISes of Gallifrey. There, on a distant world, a new race sensitive to time and reality will arise. But they will be different from you. More like the children of Terra. They will not stagnate and waste away, their proud cities crumbling and dying because they lack the vitality and imagination to move on. Your knowledge will survive. Your history will be remembered. Your names will live on through them. That is the only choice you will have from me. From us. Choose life. Or choose to die in the Moment. Forever.”
“Then the choice is made,” Rassilon said. “We will live on.”
~*~*~*~
Lucy Saxon was stunned when she entered the office to find Harold and Vairë collapsed on the floor. Both of them were sodden with sweat and groaned at the lightest touch. Vairë’s body was hot and feverish to the touch and even Harold was running warmer than normal. The two clung to each other’s hands, though, refusing to be separated even if they were unconscious. Lucy didn’t mind that – she knew that Harry thought of the other woman as a sister. She also knew that they were both telepaths. Maybe this was some strange telepathic thing they were working on. Regardless, she didn’t dare try to wake them. Instead, she had the bodyguards pick them up and carry them to the master bedroom. Under her instructions, both of them were stripped and washed off with cool water then dressed in their nightclothes.
Hours later, Harry opened his eyes. Dark circles marked the skin beneath them and his face was pale. “Vairë?” he whispered.
“’M here,” she moaned softly. “M’head is killin’ me.”
“Don’t doubt it,” he gasped. “Rassilon knows how much information you just let pass through your brain and into the TARDIS.”
“Can I get somethin’ for this headache?”
“Sure, sweetheart,” Lucy said softly, startling both of them. “How about some Demerol? Can you take that?”
“Should be fine,” Harry replied. “Just no aspirin.”
“I’ll have the physician get that taken care of. What happened?”
“My little sister here just saved the universe. Again.”
“You helped,” Vairë muttered. “Wasn’t all me.”
“Yeah, well. No more comparing yourself to Madame du Pompadour. You just went toe-to-toe with Rassilon, the mightiest of Time Lords, and got him to back down. Reinette Poisson would never have been able to look him in the eye, let alone tell him off.”
“I’ll laugh about that when my brain quits trying to pound its way out of my skull. Is kinda funny. A human TARDIS hybrid freak shouted down the Lord President of Gallifrey. Kinda belled the cat or bearded the lion, didn’t I?”
“I’ve got a better name for you than ‘human TARDIS hybrid freak,’” Koschei whispered, feeling sleep trying to pull him back under for a healing coma.
“What’s that?”
“Galliterran. The first Galliterran. And our new world will be called Galliterra.”
“Galliterran. I like it,” Vairë said sleepily.
“Get some sleep, lil’ sis. I’ll see you in…oh…thirty hours or so,” Koschei smiled as he let his body fall into the healing coma. Vairë was not very far behind him. And, together, the two children of very different races began dreaming of a world that both of them could call home. A world called Galliterra.