Coming Home
by Nyki Blatchley
“So where are we, Professor?”
The Doctor wrinkled his nose, examining the cityscape on the view-screen. “London, I hope.” His eyes made a quick sweep of the scene. “In fact, I’d say we’re not far from Perivale.”
“You’re kidding.” Taking in soaring towers of glass and steel and the aircars that zipped between them, Ace wondered whether she or the Doctor had gone mad. “There’s no way this is Perivale.”
“I don’t kid, as you put it.” The Doctor’s voice was testy. “And I said we’re near Perivale.” He considered. “Probably Ealing.”
“Seriously?” Examining the scene again, she caught on. “It’s the future, isn’t it? This is what London’s like in the future.”
“Well, in the middle of the twenty-seventh century. It’s also been a glass dome and a garden community. Even ruins.”
Ace stared at the sight. “Wicked,” she breathed. “So are we going out?”
“I’ve...” The Doctor hesitated, and his expression seemed to Ace a little afraid. “I have a few things to do first. You can look round if you want to, but...” He jabbed his finger at her. “Be careful, and don’t go out of sight of the Tardis. It may not look like it, but there’s a war going on out there. If you hear a siren, get back here quickly.”
The scene outside looked peaceful, but Ace had learnt to trust the Doctor’s warnings. “You bet, Professor,” she said.
*****
Ace had wandered two streets away without thinking how far she was going before she realised what bothered her. Aircars zoomed silently above, and she could see crowds through the glass walls of the towers, but she was alone on the soundless street. There didn’t even seem to be any doors at street level.
People obviously didn’t walk any more, she thought. Or maybe it was the war the Doctor had referred to. Was it unsafe to be out? It didn’t matter. She could take care of herself.
Looking around, Ace realised that she could no longer see the Tardis. Caught between one impulse to retrace her steps and another to explore further, she didn’t see the old woman till they collided. Horrified, Ace caught at the frail frame, steadying the woman.
“Sorry,” she gasped. “Are you all right?”
“I’ll live.” The stranger grimaced in pain. “Should have been looking where I was going. Help me sit down.”
Ace lowered her gently to the pavement, and the old woman stretched forward to massage her left ankle. “Always that one,” she muttered.
She was small and slender, bobbed white hair framing a heavily lined face. Ace was surprised at her clothes, though. In contrast with the futuristic surroundings, they looked like photos of her friends’ parents when they were young. Obviously retro was in.
“Are you all right?” She knelt by the woman. “I’m Ace, by the way.”
The woman raised her eyebrows. “Hmph, unusual name, very unusual. Yes, I’ll be fine, just twisted my ankle. I’m...” She pursed her lips. “I normally go by Susan Campbell. I’ve been a widow a long time now, but... It reminds me of him.”
Her eyes, far away for a moment, seemed to Ace to have seen more than was reasonable.
“Of course,” Mrs Campbell added, alert again, “I’d prefer not to get caught out in a raid. Not a good idea.”
That brought Ace back to reality. “Oh yes, there’s a war, isn’t there? What’s going on?”
The old woman stared at her in astonishment. “Good heavens, where have you been, child? I thought even off-worlders knew all about it.”
“Oh, I’ve been a bit... um, out of touch. Who’s fighting who?”
Mrs Campbell steepled her fingers in front of her mouth. “A people called the Adrexans. They’ve conquered planets halfway across the galaxy, and they want Earth. They regularly bomb us from orbit.”
“Bomb?” Ace looked around in bewilderment at surroundings that looked anything but a bomb-site.
“Oh, they want the buildings intact,” said the old woman, clearly reading Ace’s reaction. “They bomb us with poisoned gas.”
A shudder ran through Ace, as the words opened wounds too recent to have healed. She hated poison bombs.
“At the moment, we’ve no defence against them,” added Mrs Campbell. “But some of us are working on...”
She broke off as a wailing cut through the air, and Ace shuddered. She wouldn’t have thought the Blitz meant anything to her, but maybe the fear was deeper in London’s psyche than she knew.
“Quick.” Her companion was scrabbling at a small bag she carried. “Get your gas-mask on, child.”
“Gas-mask?” The danger was clear to Ace, but she could only gape.
Mrs Campbell stared at her in disbelief. “You haven’t got one? Are you insane?”
Ace tried to think of something to say, but her mouth was too dry. The old woman glanced up and Ace, following her gaze, caught the glint of objects falling from the sky.
Moving faster than Ace would have thought possible, Mrs Campbell pulled out a mask and slapped it over the girl’s face. It moulded to her skin, covering mouth and nose, and Ace panicked for an instant before realising that she could breathe normally.
“The fabric produces a steady flow of oxygen.”
“But,” Ace tried to protest, her voice muffled, “you...”
“I’ve a better chance than you would,” snapped the old woman. “But I can’t last indefinitely, so get me under cover, quickly.”
A sleek missile, two feet in length, hit the ground just down the road and burst open, releasing a cloud of green gas that spread rapidly. Others were falling further off and, in spite of the urgency, Ace stared in amazement. Apart from the thud of their landing, the explosions were silent, and she felt strangely cheated.
There was no time to stare, though. Ace looked around, searching wildly for somewhere to take refuge, but no way into any building was apparent, although silent air-cars were docking high above her head.
Swinging back to ask her companion what to do, she saw with horror that Mrs Campbell lay motionless, eyes shut. Despite what she’d said, the gas must be getting to her already.
Ace could only think of one refuge, but she wasn’t sure whether it was too far away. She had to try, though.
*****
A sickly cloud of green covered everything, clinging to Ace’s flesh and clothes as if it sought to encase her in silence. She ran, burdened by the dead weight over her shoulder, but there was no way of knowing whether she was heading the right way.
Ace gave a yelp of fear as a form loomed out of the gas, but she realised quickly that it was the Doctor, his face almost covered by a twentieth-century gas-mask. He grasped her arm, but his eyes stayed on what she carried. He looked scared, she realised with the vagueness of fatigue.
“Give her to me.” His voice was muffled, but the urgency came through. “The Tardis isn’t far.”
Thankfully heaving the old woman’s limp form into the Doctor’s arms, Ace stumbled after him. She barely noticed passing through the doors until the familiar console-room lay around her, instead of gas-shrouded streets. She shut the doors as the Doctor lay Mrs Campbell gently on the floor beside the console, then tore off the gas-mask. It had moulded so tightly to her skin that she was expecting the removal to hurt, but the fabric came away easily, and the sickly stench clinging to her assailed her nose.
“Is she dead, Professor?” She was convinced that she’d been carrying a corpse through the streets.
The Doctor yanked off his mask and knelt beside the woman. “In a way,” he said, his voice barely audible. “But she should be all right.”
“What?” Ace wondered if some of the gas had got in and made her light headed. “But if she’s dead...”
“She put herself into a trance. It kept most of the gas out, but not enough.”
“She gave me her mask.” Ace wished that crying came naturally to her. “She insisted she’d have more chance than I would.”
“Hm.” The Doctor still stared at the body on the floor. “Well, she did, but it would have been a close thing if I hadn’t been here. She’ll be all right now, though.”
“What are you talking about?” Ace was far too upset to play her friend’s guessing games. “Either she’s dead or...”
She crashed to a halt. A glow was forming around the old woman, enveloping her body. As Ace watched, mouth open, it seemed as if another body, another face, were superimposed on Mrs Campbell, though the light surrounding her made it hard to be sure.
“What’s going on?”
The Doctor glanced up at Ace, though his eyes returned at once to the glowing figure on the floor. “Regeneration. I explained that to you, didn’t I?”
“You did, but... Professor, I thought only your people could do that.”
“Exactly,” he said, the faintest smile flickering across his face.
The new form was stronger now, taking over from Mrs Campbell’s shape and face. The glow faded, leaving a stranger lying on the floor. This was a young woman, perhaps in her twenties, with long auburn hair. Ace watched in fascination, too stunned to speak, and the Doctor too remained silent until, at last, the woman’s eyes opened. Trying to focus, she raised her head and peered around, then gasped.
“But... it’s a Tardis. How...” She took in the two people watching. “Ace, why didn’t you tell me...” Then her bleary eyes moved to the Doctor, still kneeling by her. “Who are you?”
“Look more carefully, Susan.” His voice was as gentle, Ace thought, as if he were speaking to a child.
Susan stared a moment, seeming to use something other than sight, before gasping.
“Grandfather? It... it is you?”
“Of course.” The Doctor spread his arms and Susan flung herself into them, letting him hold her tightly.
When they finally broke their embrace, she hauled herself up, holding onto the console, and looked around. “You’ve redecorated,” she commented, before looking back at the Doctor. “And regenerated.”
“Several times,” he told her, also rising.
Now Susan was standing – Ace couldn’t think of her as Mrs Campbell in this form – the extent of the change was clearer. The young woman was much taller than her predecessor and had a fuller figure, and her face was proud. Ace almost thought it haughty, till Susan caught her gaze and smiled.
“I don’t suppose he prepared you for this?”
“Not at all,” admitted Ace.
“I thought not. He obviously hasn’t changed.” The criticism was spoken with more love than any praise Ace had ever heard.
“You’re really his granddaughter?” Even after Susan’s transformation, the age difference didn’t seem nearly enough.
“I was a lot older then,” the Doctor pointed out, before looking back to Susan. “I said I’d return, didn’t I?”
“You didn’t say you’d take this long about it,” said his granddaughter.
“Well, what’s a few centuries? But I knew this was when you’d need to regenerate, and I couldn’t leave you to do it without help, especially the first time. It’s so much easier in here.” He looked carefully at her. “Were you happy?” he asked.
Susan’s face broke into a wistful smile. “Very, very happy,” she said. “David didn’t understand why I didn’t get old too, but he didn’t care. I miss him terribly, of course, but I’ve lived a good life.”
“So... will you be coming with us?” Ace wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She liked having the Doctor to herself, but she couldn’t expect him to refuse his own granddaughter. “Get away from the war?”
Susan shook her head with a far-off expression. “I was told once,” she said, “that things aren’t made better by running away. This is my home now, and it needs me. I’ve been working on a defence against the missiles.” She turned to the Doctor, her face now alight. “The idea’s a barrier that will put them into a slightly different temporal phase as they come down, so they can’t do any harm. It just needs a few more tweaks. If the Adrexans can’t get at us, there’ll be more chance of a negotiated peace.”
“That’s an excellent idea.” The Doctor looked impressed. “Did you use Rassillon’s Seventh Algorithm?”
“No, the Sixth. I thought...”
Ace stopped listening, knowing she wouldn’t understand a word of it. She remembered her own dreams of leaving Earth, as she sleepwalked through the streets of Perivale, back in her own time. She’d had good friends – a lot of good friends, now she thought about it – but all she’d ever wanted was to escape. How could anyone want to stay in one place, let alone at such a dangerous time? What it would be like to feel that about somewhere?
“Do you really want to be stuck on one planet?”
Ace hadn’t realised she’d spoken aloud till she saw the Doctor and Susan looking at her, he amused, she grave. She must have been daydreaming for some time, and they’d clearly been doing a lot of catching up.
“I haven’t been stuck,” said Susan. “This isn’t the twentieth century, you know. I’ve been all over the galaxy, but Earth is my home.” She regarded Ace more closely. “Maybe one day you’ll find somewhere you belong. Arrive somewhere. You can’t go on running forever.”
“Why not.” The words reminded Ace of something she’d said recently, though she couldn’t remember what. “Sometimes, I feel I could run to the end of the universe and beyond. That’s all I ever want to do.”
“Maybe, but I don’t think running works for ever.” Susan smiled at her, before turning to the Doctor. “The gas should have cleared by now, and I should go. I’ve work to do.”
They embraced. “I’ll come and see you again,” the Doctor told her.
“You’d better.” His granddaughter made an unconvincing attempt to look fierce. “And don’t leave it five hundred years, next time. Goodbye, Ace. Take care of him.”
Ace nodded. “And you take care of yourself. It’s dangerous out there.”
Susan laughed. “And travelling with Grandfather isn’t? Don’t tell me he’s changed that much?”
The Doctor was quiet for some time after Susan left, busying himself with the Tardis’s controls, and Ace knew better than to disturb him. She too was wrapped up in her thoughts. What Susan had said about belonging, coupled with memories of friends back in Perivale, disturbed her. She didn’t want to feel like that about anywhere, but she couldn’t pretend the place that had once been home meant nothing to her.
“I’d like to go back,” Ace found herself saying. The Doctor looked up sharply, and she added, “To Perivale, I mean. Just for a visit. Look up my friends, see what the gang’s doing. That would be nice.”
The Doctor smiled. “As you wish,” he said, setting the Tardis in motion.