by Doctor Who
DOCTOR WHO
his hunters for the time being, he turned to flash his companions an excited grin, but there was no one there.
'I've lost them again!' He ran a hand through his hair, and opened his mouth to shout. Then he thought better of attracting the attention of the pursuers he'd just lost. Then he felt guilty for not thinking of his companions first. Then he decided that if he was going to bring companions along on his travels he really should start taking better care of them. Finally he cupped his hands around his mouth and staggered in slow circles around the narrow alleyway as he shouted. 'Rory! Amy! Over here!'
There was no response. He opened his mouth to try again, but the words died in his throat as he circled once more and suddenly stopped short. There was a figure standing in the dark shadow of the building, an outline that was moving slowly towards him with an awkward, jerking motion. This wasn't the mechanical movement of an android; it was
something
much
stranger,
something
unnatural, something completely wrong. Despite its stuttering motion there was still something familiar about that gait.
The Doctor opened his mouth in surprise as the figure made a final step towards him and a shaft of sunlight fell across its face from between 52
NUCLEAR TIME
the nearby houses, highlighting a gaunt, defined facial structure and a mop of foppish brown hair hanging limply across the man's forehead.
It was then that the Doctor realised that he was looking at himself.
53
Chapter
3
California International Conference Centre, 3 August 1975
Albert stumbled across the beach that bordered the Asilomar conference grounds, oblivious to the salt water that ebbed and flowed over his tatty leather shoes as he swerved in and out of the surf. He took another swig from the crystal bottle and wiped his face with his sleeve as the unbuttoned shirt cuff slapped at his face.
Finding the bottle empty, he spun around in frustration, hurling it out to sea with a hoarse yelp and staggering on the spot for a second as he tried to spy the satisfying splash of it hitting the surface.
The light was fading and the glare of the 55
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sunset, refracted a thousand times on the crests of the waves, dazzled him. He turned his back on the sea and loped back in the direction of the grassy dunes, spluttering an incomprehensible mix of anger and grief.
He ran out of balance at the steps to the wooden walkway, swearing as he slammed his shin against the first stair. He grabbed the handrail and swung himself awkwardly into a sitting position. The beach swam in front of him, but the tears in his eyes may have had something to do with that. He rested his head in his hands and listened to the steady roar of the sea as it lulled his pounding heart.
At least the sirens had stopped.
Behind him the flames had died down and the towering column of black smoke which had seemed so solid and impassive only an hour before was gradually dispersing.
Albert didn't bother trying to look up as the sound of footsteps clumping along the wooden planks of the walkway approached him. He fixed his eyes forward and concentrated on the nearest rock, making no acknowledgment of the presence behind him as the noise ceased.
'Dr Gilroy?' a gravelly voice enquired.
Albert mumbled something he hoped sounded in the affirmative.
56
NUCLEAR TIME
'Dr Gilroy!' It wasn't a question, it was an order.
He turned his head and leant backward as he tried to take in the man who had so rudely interrupted his breakdown. Smart khaki trousers hung casually over polished black boots and there were no creases in the jacket that was belted tightly around the man's waist. Albert gave up trying to count the medals after he got to three and continued his attempt to force his eyes upwards to meet the man's stare, eventually finding himself glaring at a clipped moustache that seemed almost pasted onto a scarred and leathered face and eyes so grey that they matched his hair.
'What?' Albert finally managed to enunciate.
The man held out a large hand, and Albert allowed himself to be hauled to his feet. He stumbled backwards a few steps and jabbed his finger accusingly at the stranger. 'What?' he repeated.
The stranger waited patiently for a few moments as Albert felt for a spot on the handrail for support before continuing. 'Dr Gilroy, I am Colonel Geoffrey Redvers. You do not know me, but I am certainly aware of your work.'
Albert flung his arms up in exaggerated frustration. 'What work? Eh? What work? It's all gone now! If you want my work, you shouldn't 57
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be standing here; you should be sifting through the wreckage of the storeroom.' He gestured over to the tree line where smoke was still drifting between the branches. 'Burnt, all of it. Gone.' The enormity of the situation hit him once more and he wailed. 'And Isley!
Did you know that I hadn't turned her off for over two years? Two years! And still so much to do.'
Geoff displayed no emotion. 'You can rebuild it,'
he stated simply.
'Her.'
Geoff raised an eyebrow.
'Isley was a her.'
Geoff shrugged. 'You can rebuild her.'
Albert stepped forward and shoved him in the shoulder, looking for a fight. The man didn't budge.
'Oh yeah? And where am I gonna get funding from now, jackass? I'm a laughing stock. Completely discredited. No one in that conference centre believes that I ever had anything. And now they're right. I've nothing left but my notes, and they're not exactly a formal proof.'
'The notes you left in Michigan?' Geoff asked casually.
'Yes, the notes I left in Michigan.'
'Well, I'm afraid you don't have those either. My department picked them up this morning.'
Realisation dawned on Albert.
58
NUCLEAR TIME
'Wait wait wait. You did this?' His hand flew to his face and he began to pace up and down the sand, the sun bathing him in a hazy golden glow. 'No.
This isn't happening! You can't do this to me!'
Geoff sighed, 'I know that this has come as a bit of a blow. But I have a proposition for you.'
'I'm not stupid, Colonel. It's not a proposition.
A proposition implies that I have a choice.' 'It's a lot of money.'
Albert's face hardened. 'It had better be.'
Geoff stepped off the bottom stair and onto the sand, walking around the bedraggled scientist. 'Come with me.' He tilted his head along the beach. 'There's a helicopter waiting in the bay. I presume you won't be wanting to say goodbye to your associates.'
Now that they were on a level it was obvious that the colonel towered a good foot over Albert. With his tight uniform highlighting his hefty build, he stood in stark contrast to the thin and unkempt figure beside him. Albert hunched his shoulders in defeat and reluctantly began to follow Geoff along the waterfront.
'No. My career is over. Disappearing is probably the most dignified thing to do.' He fumbled with the hem of his shirt as he tried in vain to tuck it back into his trousers. 'Yesterday I was going
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to be one of the most important men in history.
Yesterday I was going to change the world. Today I am nothing.' He pointed back the way they had come.
'And no one even noticed. To them it's just another day of canapés and wine.'
'The world doesn't need changing just yet. A lot of people would rather it stayed just the way it is - at least until this country is ready.'
'And what makes you so sure that you're ready?'
Geoff shrugged. 'That's our job, to gain the advantage, to nip work like yours in the bud before our enemies notice that it even exists.'
'You mean the Russians.'
'Maybe. Everybody has the potential to be an enemy if you wait long enough. It's just a matter of time. And when that
time comes, we'd like to be prepared.'
Albert didn't respond, and the pair walked in silence for a few minutes until they rounded the headland and the squat black shape of a helicopter came into view. A guard of four black-uniformed soldiers that had been standing casually around the makeshift landing strip suddenly acknowledged the approach of the colonel. They
snapped
to
attention, saluting
hurriedly as he strode past onto the landing strip.
The pilot started the rotors, and the helicopter 60
NUCLEAR TIME
was
barely
stationary
by
the
time
Albert
approached. The roar of the blades drowned out the urgent orders that were thrown around the site as the squad prepared to embark. One of the soldiers flung a helmet into his hand and he jammed it onto his head, ducking into the back of the cabin with Geoff.
The pilot turned awkwardly in his seat and smiled at him. 'It's great to have you on board, sir.' He grinned.
Albert turned to look out of the window and offered no reply. 'I hope you know what you're doing,'
he muttered over the radio.
'I was thinking the same thing about you,' came the crackled response.
A few seconds later, the chopper lifted off in a blizzard of sand and was soon pulling away from the headland and moving out to sea. As the craft swung around, Albert could still see smoke rising from the conference centre as the firemen extinguished the last of the flames, before the view slid softly away and he squinted his eyes against the dying embers of the sun.
61
Chapter
4
Colorado, 28 August 1981, 4.57 p.m.
Time paused, and the Doctor could feel it.
His whole body seemed to slow as he stepped towards the man he knew to be himself. Light flowed like a liquid in his vision as if the universe itself didn't want the two to meet, and the golden hue of the afternoon transformed into a haze that fogged his vision.
The world became a dream, and in the centre stood two Doctors.
The Doctor screwed up his eyes and stumbled backwards, one, two steps, until the sensation eased and his mind began to focus again. He felt sick, but he was sure the other Doctor was waving at him.
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'What do you want?' he managed to ask, squeezing his temples with his thumb and forefinger to try and clear the headache.
In response, the other Doctor held up an arm and pulled back his sleeve to reveal his gold watch. He twisted his wrist and turned the watch face towards the Doctor, pointing at it urgently. Then he opened his mouth.
'Teerrr ees ooon teeemm.'
The words were twisted and garbled, emphases in all the wrong places, a horrible, disturbing sound, and the Doctor could see the man was struggling to mouth the correct words.
A shiver ran down his spine as the other Doctor continued.
'Teer ees no teemm! Oorrri, Eeemi, tem leeiiv.'
'I don't understand! What are you trying to tell me, what's wrong?' The Doctor could sense the urgency in his double's voice. 'What's happened to me?'
'Teer eees no teemm!' the man repeated.
The Doctor suddenly understood. 'No time? Time for what?'
'Ooorrri, Eeemi, leeiivv tem.'
'Rory and Amy? Why? What's going to happen?' Now that his head had cleared, the Doctor could see the sweat glistening on the other Doctor's brow, the untidy chaos of his hair. Something had 64
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happened, something was going to happen. To him.
The other Doctor's sleeve seemed to pull itself back over the watch of its own accord as he extended his hand higher and pointed to the sky.
'Seethe boomb.'
There was no mistaking that final word. The Doctor followed the man's finger and looked at the sky before letting out a yell of anguish. The dark shape of the plane was visible now as it circled overhead, a black vulture above the village, preparing for one final decent. The drone of its engines was louder now than it had ever been before.
'He's - I'm right, there's no time to go back before they drop the bomb.' He flexed his hands in frustration.
'But, I can't leave them! They'll die!'
The other Doctor shouted something that the Doctor couldn't comprehend, an unnatural warble of sound that ended with 'Taaaaarrdiz.'
'The TARDIS?'
'Cann zzdopp eet. Weel Zavay teeem.'
'What? How?' The Doctor's frustration was mounting. He was painfully aware of each relentless second that was ticking by whilst his double tried to communicate.
The other Doctor said nothing in response, instead feeling for his inside jacket pocket, the 65
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other hand smoothing his hair over his face.
Eventually, the other Doctor found what he was looking for, flourishing open the psychic paper and holding it out for his opposite to view.
The Doctor stepped forward once more, wincing as the haze returned; he squinted through the suddenly heady glow of the sunlight, desperately trying to make out the faint diagrams that had imprinted themselves on the white slip. Eventually he stepped back, and his eyes met the other Doctor's.
'You're right,' he said finally. 'That could work. But the TARDIS has never done anything like that before. There's no telling the effect on the infrastructure - it could completely destabilise her!'
But the other Doctor seemed to have finished, holding up his hand to silence the Doctor. They looked at each other one last time, before the other Doctor shrugged his jacket off and into his hand before slinging it awkwardly over his shoulder.
'Wait, you can't go!' the Doctor called after him. 'What are you? My future? I would remember being you if you weren't, but if that's the case...' He swallowed uncomfortably and trailed off. 'What am I about to do?'
But the other Doctor had gone, shuffling backwards around a corner and looking about 66
NUCLEAR TIME
himself as if searching for someone else. Then the Doctor was alone in the alleyway once more. He rubbed his eyes as though waking from a deep sleep and walked forwards into the cool shade of the warehouse between the brutal shafts of light that glared from between the houses. Then the noise of the engines above invaded his mind and jolted him into action.
The Doctor's hefty boots pounded the sandy ground as the TARDIS came into view, the deep blue of its wooden frame an oasis amid the desert brown that surrounded it. He didn't slow as he covered the last few metres to the doors, key gripped in his hand, aimed at the lock.
Just in time, the double doors swung gently inwards, and the Doctor cannoned into the control room, his lungs shocked for a second by the sudden
encounter
with
the
TARDIS's
air-
conditioned environment.
He took the stairs by leaps and bounds, stumbling to the central console and splaying his hands across the panels as he reached for fourteen buttons and levers at once. The scanner snapped on in the wall behind him, a detailed three-dimensional model of the surroundings, searching and scanning for the plane above the town. It found it, and the model immediately split into a
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shower of possible trajectories and velocities, one strand highlighted in red, as the digital image of an atom bomb began to descend.
But the TARDIS was already in flight. The Doctor whirled around the console, seemingly propelling himself from lever to lever simply with the force of each movement. 'Come on, come on, right spot, right time, we can do it you sexy, sexy thing!'
He brought a fist down on a control panel hard, and the howl of the engines exploded into a scream.
Yanking the smaller view-screen around with him, the Doctor suddenly swapped sides and paused, eyes transfixed on the readouts that swam across his vision faster than anyon
e human could have comprehended.
His fingers tapped feverishly on the side of the monitor as he muttered under his breath. 'Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one...' Pause. 'Now!' The last word was punctuated by a brutal kick to the underside of the console.
It clanged loudly, the reverberations echoing around the towering control room for seconds after the impact, and when the Doctor had stopped nursing his injured foot he realised that the engines had ceased.
Gingerly he rested his foot back onto the glass floor and, painfully slowly, lifted his eyes to the ceiling.
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NUCLEAR TIME
Hanging barely a foot from the Doctor's head was the bomb. A large, ugly heap of metal engulfed in a static ball of energy, white hot fire frozen abruptly at its highest velocity, halted only a few centimetres from his upturned face. Behind the bubble, its reflection in the metal ripples that arced away from the central column cast a thousand tiny suns around the control room.
He stared in wonderment at the object for a moment, then a slow grin spread across his face. 'I did it,' he said to himself. 'I only went and did it!'
Hesitantly, he raised his hand up to the object, transfixed by its violent beauty.
Suddenly, the calm hue of the control room switched to a dark crimson as an urgent alarm blared loudly out of the gramophone speaker on the console.
He snatched his hand away. 'All right, all right, I get the point.' He scowled, reaching out to press a key.
'It's not often one gets to see an atomic explosion at the point of detonation.' But his sulk was swiftly replaced by a worried frown as the siren continued.