Nothing to do with me, just helping to promote a very talented team of collaberators who are working on a fully illustrated series of adventures for Clara Oswald and Ashildr/Me, taking place after the events of Hell Bent. The series commences May 16th 2020.
Official website
https://www.theuntoldadventures.com/
Thought I’d share a story from my forthcoming free anthology e-book “Chess With An Ostritch & Other Thraham Prompts”, a collection of Doctor/Graham stories that I was requested to write from a fellow author and fan of mine on Archive of Our Own called ‘Vgault’. Expect it to drop sometime this weekend or next week.
***
Yaz stepped out of the Taxi as delicately as she could, the baby bump doing its utmost to keep her pressed down on the seat, Ryan hoisting her out holding both her hands. She tipped the driver his money and the cab hastily sped off.
Yaz and Ryan made their way towards Graham’s house and looked at one another. There was love present between the two, but also a lingering sense of uncertainty.
They had faced many hardships together in the years that led them through their gradual courtship, but now as the reality of their new life loomed, nested in a physical cocoon ready to break free any day now, the question of how to best go forward compelled them to process their options.
This was not a safe world. Not any longer.
They knocked on the door, and Graham answered, a toothbrush lodged in his mouth.
“What are you doing Granddad?” asked Ryan.
“I’m taking my temperature” said Graham
“With a toothbrush?” asked a bemused Yaz.
“Yeah, it was the Doc’s idea”
“We’d like to see The Doctor if you don’t mind” said Yaz.
“She doesn’t want visitors. She thinks something’s after her. It’s got her proper spooked”
“So why did you open the door then?” Ryan asked.
“Because I don’t agree with her”
Yaz called out for The Doctor.
“Doctor? It’s us, if you don’t want us in, I can understand, social distancing and all that, but we’ve been through the worst of it you know…the toll’s gone down since Easter, that’s what they’ve said”
The silence from the interior of the house was deafening, and gave Yaz a shudder as the disquiet only worsened her existing apprehensions.
“Doctor…we wanted to talk to you just a bit, it’s our baby, will it be safe? Do you know something you’re not telling us?”
Graham walked into the house, handing Yaz the moist toothbrush. He climbed up the stairs and into his bedroom, where he spotted The Doctor, hung over the edge of the bed, her boots off, clutching a stuffed teddy bear. A photograph of a strangely alluring and quizzical young lady with a short haircut distinct to the 1960s. The photograph looked like it had been taken in a junkyard, and it was in black and white.
The Doctor grabbed the photo and tenderly stroked the features of the girl with the tips of her fingers, she bit her lip anxiously.
She spoke to the photograph, even though she was aware of her living audience of one beside her, as Graham sat himself down to comfort The Doctor.
“They’ve still got all you’re going through yet to come, how do I prepare them for that? For all I know, this is what sets it off now, what weakens humanity, what readies them for the days where they lose everything, the days I left in your care” she said.
“Who are you talking to the Doc?” asked Graham.
“The past I left in your future” The Doctor spoke, wanting to apologize for the riddle but was sure Graham wouldn’t mind a bit of bamboozlement.
“Doctor?” Yaz called again.
“You’ve got to answer her sometime Doc” Graham said.
The Doctor put the photograph down and curled up in his arms, wrapping her right arm warmly around his head.
“We’re living through an uncertain time Graham, one I can’t spoil, in case you lot try to rewrite every line. This is one time I’m going to have to heed my wife’s warnings….and take my first selves’ advice. Oh why do our minds wander so far from how they were in our youth?”
“When we’re young we look at it all very unclearly, we’re lost in the arrogance of it all, the audacity of it, it’s only when we’re older that we look at life a bit clearer, or when we’re faced with something that makes us take it less for granted. Strangely enough, those of us that see it all too clearly are still on some level afraid we’ll be amongst those who vanish”
“I’ve been a lifetime of older people Graham, and all those lives are among the vanished, footprints in the sand on a warm beach, just like that, we’re gone”
“As long as we’ve got today, we’ve got each other, we’re family, and it’s about to get even bigger once the baby comes calling”
“She wants me to be its godmother, but what kind of God would I be exactly?”
“I don’t think you should take it so literally Doc”
“I’ve played God for so long Graham, and it still doesn’t keep anyone together. They vanish, they all vanish, and I linger on. I can speak baby, but what else can I say to them other than try to not get themselves killed by an invisible killer?”
“Tell them there’s a visible hand holding theirs, tell them to trust in a healer that will do their best to make them feel better, tell them to be brave, tell them to trust you”
“You know how socially awkward I am”
“I know you can learn Doc, I know from how much you talk about your wife that you learned to love, and, hey, you fancy me a little don’t you?”
The Doctor giggled.
“More than a little you big lolly” she said.
Graham kissed The Doctor on the forehead.
“This kid has a whole world of love waiting for him Doc, don’t deny him it, don’t count him among those who’ll vanish tomorrow, remind him how special he is today, and for every tomorrow, because every tomorrow becomes today”
The Doctor grinned, pressing her lips against Grahams’, she then quietly pricked his nose with her finger got up, put on her boots, and dashed down the stairs to give Yaz the best possible advice she could.
She would reassure Ryan and Yaz that their baby would be safe as long as they worked hard to keep him so.
Because every day is a struggle, regardless of how sick the earth makes us, the perseverance against the illness, the will to survive, is what makes the human race ultimately win each tomorrow as it comes.
Sometimes she lets that slip her mind as she walks through eternity, sometimes she forgets. It’s up to the blessings in her life, the Rivers, the Susan’s, the O’Brien’s, the fam, to remind her that those still privileged to dare tomorrow should never be made to feel as if they count amongst those who vanished yesterday.
In Grandma’s eyes, her meal rivalled that of a king’s feast.
In Jeff’s eyes, the meal would prove more of a challenge than survival within the Oort cloud.
Still, he had to grin and bear it; he had to make sure his mom was happy.
Somehow that didn’t seem to be too momentous a task, there was a spark of vitality to her, an ethos to her that he thought could easily have diminished on the very instant he went missing.
But the Tracys were made of sterner stuff, they had to be in this field of expertise, where rescues could go awry at any second and lives were at stake, including those trying to preserve said life.
They had to be on edge, their skills and wits always at the ready.
He took a bite of the charred turkey, his mother looking at him with a bedazzled and encouraging stare, daring him to take a bite. He got the distinct impression she was in on something, as if she’d come to an epiphany many years ago about her own cooking and wanted to see just how much the fabled Tracy stomach could take.
Grandma could sense something was bothering Jeff, and that it had little to do with her efficiency at cooking.
“Give me something for my ear to chew on dear, what’s troubling you?” Grandma asked politely.
“I heard the boys talking about Alan’s graduation; it happened only a couple of hours before they set out to find me”
“You weren’t there to see him leave this earth a boy, but in the Oort cloud, you got to see him as the man he’d become” Grandma replied.
Jeff cheered up, and took a bite of the blackened turkey, giving it an aggressive and determined chew; he was channelling his frustration into devouring and ultimately digesting it.
“I was lucky to be in just the right spot, they came at just the right time, their long reach saving me from the short end. When it came my turn to save Scott as the asteroid came apart, I heard no screams, no cries, no desperation; everyone was prepared for something, prepared for hope, prepared for doubt, prepared for rescue, and even prepared for the end”
“You taught them the art of preparation Jeff, they carried it with them all their lives, and it’s what enabled them to save countless others” Grandma assured him.
Jeff wiped his mouth gently with a napkin, threw it down, and rose from his chair fully recharged and primed.
“How do you feel son?” asked Grandma.
“As prepared as they were, and still are. Let’s save lives” said Jeff.
Thunderbirds were go.
The Doctor was at a loss to know what they meant, Byron, Mary, all those at the villa that had graced her and her family with their company on this disenchanted evening.
‘Mrs. Doctor?’, no, no just Doctor would do.
But why would they care to assign her a lawfully wedded title?
Byron in particular had recently been separated from his wife, why would he address any of his pursuits this way?
And pursue her he did, it was almost flattering, but the rules of historical engagement prevented her from pursuing the matter further.
In truth, they were not wrong.
In another life, she had taken a wife, her parents having conceded to the union, the pairing were tethered to one another on the very edge of existence, time could not move forward without them.
With the mightiest tide of time, the river did soar, and its song was a name that swept across the ocean of stars.
She was a universe unto itself.
The song had ceased for that wife, though her own would never end.
And if her song could never end, who goes on singing with her?
She reflected on her role to her three companions, and came to a rather obvious conclusion.
The dynamic had been obvious to all those in attendance to the villa.
Quite right too.
So who did they assume she was married to?
She walked slowly around the console, creeping up on her three family members, those who had agreed to advance with step two of her plan to avert the rise of the Cyber-armies, her eyes trained and focused on one in particular.
She thought back to the fireside chat she’d had with him in the villa under the cold and daunting curtain of night, a heat of the moment argument between the two that now resonated warmly in her memory. Squabbling over things she didn’t believe in and a man’s failure to complete the sole task he was assigned to, keeping his eye trained on a wandering sleepwalker.
Mary Shelly, Byron and the rest had observed behavioural patterns such as this, and indeed, had noticed the instant Graham O’Brien made reference to the considerable distance she had placed between their transport and their destination.
Their conclusions were easy to understand.
As Yaz and Ryan wandered off to get changed, The Doctor steadily approached Graham, who was hanging around the console, almost expecting what was to come next.
She walked right up to his side and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.
“What was that for Doc?” Graham asked, a little giddy.
“For giving me a minute” she said.
She encouraged Graham to get a move on, for there was a war to win.
“God speed gentle husband” she whispered.
DOCTOR WHO
A MINUTE PASSES
Author’s Note: Blimey, what an episode “Can You Hear Me?” was…character development across the board. I’ve noticed some have vented online about how The Doctor reacted to Graham’s concerns regarding his cancer towards the end, so here’s what I took from that scene.
It’s a fact of life. We’re going to die.
Be of brave heart, cry the distant flight attendants out of the living past.
All our songs, fluent as a River, will fall silent.
But what of it?
Maybe a man’s name doesn’t matter all that much.
Maybe the universe prefers one singular moment.
That moment was the twilight of life. The instant it ceases and slips into the either, and at last the universe is left alone.
For those who walk through eternity, the twilight of others is all that is constant, as is the loneliness.
They are a fact of the universe, they are the testimony of ages, they are the harshest lesson it could ever teach.
That’s how she would approach anyone who sought her expert opinion on mortality. So she takes great pains to conceal it.
Graham O’Brien had confided in her, telling her of his fears that the cancer he had fought so bravely against might one day return, how he had listened to the Doctors, and now turned his attention to the one he knew best.
She observes him as he airs his grievances, her arms folded, her eyes sharply focused, she stays attentive. Part of her is just lost in how dishy he was, the other half knows what is about to be asked of her, and she is not quite prepared to supply it.
She’s been so used to exploring and adventuring in recent months that she’s somewhat blindsided when someone she cares deeply for asks for her opinion as a healer, and to say the right thing. It had been a long time since she had performed duty of care, but she calmly reckoned something along similar lines was bound to come up. It is something requests in a family, usually with a relative or with a partner. It’s a level of trust that is far deeper and meaningful than just a mate you ride along with.
This is putting life and death in your hands, and asking her to be as brave as he is, she doesn’t know how to quite deal with it just yet, how to let him know how touched she was that he would let her into his life like this, but she lets him know she’s working on how she can best go about it.
All it would take was a minute.
In the most unsubtle way, she relayed her intentions. She would walk up to the console, look at something, and in the span of sixty seconds, work out what she could have said there and then, and that it would be helpful.
In reality, what she was looking for on the console was the TARDIS databank, specifically a document archiving all of the meaningful words she had written on the back of cue cards many years and one incarnation ago.
She had been honest enough to remind Graham how socially awkward she was, how the sort of responses he craved from her could not be fully expressed without sufficient preparation.
That was but a half-truth of course. The second side of the coin was that the twilight hours of all those who dwell within the universe weighed once more on her conscience, and she again took to concealing her frustrations with it whenever someone expressed fear their doomsday clock was ticking.
Graham took her response in stride, permitting himself a hearty chuckle, and letting The Doctor know it had been a worthy bit of chatter even if he had done most of the talking, he understood how deliberate she was being with her distractions. He took her at her word that she would find the right words.
She could take a minute to think it, she could take forever to say it, but he knew just what to make of what she was meaning to say regardless of how long the process would take.
He loved her too.
He was driven to live his best life aboard this ship, and beside her, regardless of how she chooses to deal with potentially losing him.
If his song is to end, he will go on singing
She suggests a trip across time to the others, a fact finding mission to discover the roots of the modern Prometheus. Of Frankenstein.
The family gather at the controls, all of them together, with their own distractions, doubts, anxieties, concerns, all of that took a backseat to discovery and adventure as always.
Fifty nine seconds tick by, a minute passes.
And the determined look the Doctor and Graham give each other is all that needs to be said.
Graham took a deep intake of breath as he sat down beside Agent O, the evening before had put both of them as well as The Doctor on an apprehensive edge, but they still felt like they could brave whatever was to come, and they trusted the reassuring light of morning more than the distrust and danger of night.
“How’s Yaz?” said O as he handed Graham a cup of tea
“Ryan’s outside with her now, she looked pretty shaken, here’s hoping his company does her some good, but if that don’t work, we’ll have to put a group effort in. That’s what we do you know, we support each other”
“One big happy family” O said under his breath
Graham got the distinct impression that O muttered this with some degree of envious resentment; he wasn’t quite sure where he had gotten it from, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask down the line.
However, in this instance O was quick to ask his own questions.
“How long have you known the Doctor, Graham?”
“Well it’s a tricky question that, see things never really happen in a straight line with the Doc”
Graham sensed O wanted to share more than what he was already telling, he knew things of The Doctor, things he felt he needed to know. A part of him also felt slightly frustrated he hadn’t taken the lead with the inquisition.
“Why? How much do you know about her?”
“A bit,” ha “our paths crossed very briefly once, when she was a man.”
Graham almost choked on his tea.
“When she was a what?” he said aloud
“Has she never mentioned that?”
“Yeah, yeah she did. The night Grace, my wife, died, when we first met her. She claimed she’d been a white-haired Scotsman. I thought it was some wild random joke only she got, but obviously there was more to it”
“You seem surprised” said O.
“I suppose, shouldn’t I be?”
“Well, it IS current year” O elaborated.
“Oh, well, forgive me then, I come from a time where news like this would level anyone of my generation’s upbringing. It’s quite a lot to take in, especially since I…”
He trailed off, almost letting something slip to O that he preferred to keep private.
“..Never mind, not important”
“You got any idea where she’s from?” O asked next.
“Well, we’ve tried to ask, but she just changes the subject, yeah.”
O’s eyes glanced in the direction of a stack of folders and files perched on the top of a shelf.
“I’ve got everything up there, anything you want answered about The Doctor can be found up there, all the Intel I could gather while working at MI6. It can be all yours Graham”
“Isn’t that all confidential? Official secrets act and all that?”
“Come on, I won’t tell” O said.
Graham now sensed that O was pressuring him, almost mischievously, like they were two errant schoolboys who had gotten their hands on the answer to a really tough exam and were daring the other to take a peek at the answers.
“What do you say Graham? Do you want to take a look?”
Graham took another sip, stared at the shelf, teased he’d get up out of the seat, and then stopped to process what he was considering.
Finally, he turned back to O and shook his head.
“I’d rather she tell me, when she’s ready”
“Quite right, you’re a good catch for her Graham”
“Eh? The Doc? I suppose she’s alright” Graham replied, before mentally cursing himself.
He hadn’t responded with something that definitively took issue with what O had suggested, and now he was going to pounce on that to further an already complicated conversation.
“She’s quite the looker”
Graham smiled, but the look on his face told O that pursuits like that just weren’t meant to be.
“Oh I don’t think along those lines, I’m old enough to be as much her granddad as I am Ryan’s’”
“Then you don’t know the stories?”
“She’s got a reputation; we learn something about that every day around her”
“Yes, but if you did read the files I have on her, you’ll find she’s older than she looks, even older than you. Age needn’t be an issue with you two. You’re both the oldest and the wisest of your little group”
“Oh come off it, me and her? Only in a fantasy world”
“Strange, that…does appear to be something you’re both currently qualified for”
“I’m not a well man O; I’ve had my share of scares with the big C”
“Oh I’m sure C was just splendid around you”
“The other ‘C’, cancer” Graham corrected him.
“Oh, but of course, my apologies”
“Yeah, I’m not out of the woods with it either. Me and Doc couldn’t have anything, if we got too attached, she’d end up saying goodbye to me just as soon as she learned how to listen”
The Doctor suddenly burst out of the TARDIS carrying a large jug of liquid.
“Come on you two, everyone outside. Lot’s to catch up on. I made ice tea. Possibly” she said, showing the contents to Graham proudly, before dashing towards the front door, beckoning Graham and O to join her.
“So considerate” O said.
“Ice tea? Grace loved to take that while we were abroad. Haven’t drank it since she passed. How did she know?”
“Maybe she does listen once in a while…perhaps she even made it to impress you, let you know just how lucky she is to have you in her life” O said.
Graham gave him a piercing glance, more perturbed than ever with what he was implying. This was not the kind of conversation he had desired in the morning, nor the kind of feelings he wanted to confront.
“Just saying” he concluded.
“O, not a whiff of this conversation reaches her ears, you got that?”
“Absolutely” he said.
The two got up, ready to head outside, Graham did one last look at the files on the shelf, then turned and joined The Doctor.
O put his right hand on Graham’s shoulder.
“Rest assured Graham, nothing of what I said was meant to make you feel uncomfortable, it’s just…when one comes to understand The Doctor like I do, you tend to see more of what makes her so…satisfying”
“You got something for her yourself? I know my pulse can race, but you’re acting like your own beat is a bit of a beast around her”
“Oh it very much is…it’s like a drumbeat” O said.
Soaring across the skies of the heavy traffic junctions of Kledbal, Blue Transit was caught in a precarious situation. And the passengers hadn’t even tipped its pilot yet.
Colby screamed into the com-link attached to his helmet, desperate to hear a voice on the other end, his hands trembled as he tried to maintain his grip on the ship’s steering wheel.
“Red W, this is Blue Transit, I repeat, this is Blue Transit…its Colby, they’re overwhelming us, I need a clear as path as you light for us”
To maintain vital communication with Red W, there had to be a clear visual, something made impossible by dreary and murky clouds forming in front of him, making it not just difficult to see, but difficult to speed up the acceleration of the ship as he feared he might crash into Red W.
“I thought you said the skies were clear Doc”
“I can’t predict the forecast Graham, I’m not a weather person” said The Doctor.
“Yeah, well it’s a bit murky now, all those drones flying overhead emitting that flaky smoke” Graham pointed out.
“Sorry, are you telling me these conditions are deliberate?” asked Colby in a state of panic.
“Hey, you’ve got a good eye there Graham” The Doctor observed.
“It must be the work of the Kilaters, part of their protests” Colby explained
“Oh protests? Me and Grace did a few of those. All peaceful. Frankly she only went for the free cups of Nescafe they passed out on their tidier breaks” Graham admitted.
“Everything is under control, I assure you, and Red W will light the path” Colby assured his passengers.
“You’ve put a lot of faith in Red W, but how do you think they’re coping right now? They may need someone in front of their path to light their way”
“It’s so much easier where they are, it should be” Colby replied, desperation in his voice, almost needy. He depended on a clearer path.
“Well, we are not over there are we? But I bet you want to be, so own it, and take us high up. Go on”
Colby was hesitant.
“I’ve never broken tradition before”
“That’s what the Kilaters are probably counting on, they want to change the world around them because it’s inflexible, kept in the same corner, don’t just sit in that corner, kick away at it ’till you break down the barriers it forms a part of. Everyone on every world, be it your own or one alien to you, has moments where they refuse to sit well over there and light their own way home, showing everyone how big and brave they were for doing it all by themselves”
Colby pulled up, the gravity of the high altitude pushing his gums back over his teeth, but he preserved and Blue Transit soon rode clear of the fog, flying over Red W and making a beeline for home.
“You’d make a class substitute for Frizzle on the magic school bus someday Doc”
“River rode it, she said it was rubbish” The Doctor replied.
