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Persistence of Memory

An Eighth Doctor Story
By Nghaire Collins




Part 6

     Almost as soon as the Doctor had successfully escorted Chris back to his and Jayne's quarters, he instructed him to remain there while he consulted the President. They had discovered who she was, and wanted to suppress her abilities for the second time. The Doctor was having none of it.

     "This time, I must ask you to respect my wishes," he said, his eyes piercing Chris'. There was that ethereal spark about them that reminded him that the Doctor, for all his human indulgences, was most assuredly not. Chris found himself agreeing, and the Time Lord exited, closing the door behind him.

     "Chris, what's this note about?" asked Jayne, sleepily, from the chair across the room. Her shirt and black trousers were creased where she'd slept in them. "Where did you go?"

     "Alecia was having a bad nightmare, so the Doctor left..." he trailed off, seeing the look on Jayne's face.

     "The Doctor was all right? He was here, and you didn't wake me? Chris!"

     "I'll, err... see about getting us some tea..." Chris left the room quickly, before she could throw anything at him.

* * *

     The Doctor strode purposefully down the long corridors to the Lord President's office, a dark look of intent on his face, eyes alive and burning with the memories of what had happened in that courtroom so long ago. Alecia's barely trained telepathic ability, reawoken by the Rani's attempt to kill her, meant she would have to finish her education. It had been this ability of hers that had caused the death of a fellow student at the Academy; and the subsequent trial and sentencing had frustrated the Time Lord, mainly because of Alecia's -- Alryssa's -- refusal to disclose exactly what happened. The Doctor had never forgotten the sadness the whole incident had caused him, how such a bright and enthusiastic student's talents had been wasted, suppressed by the will of the Time Lords. His sixth incarnation had been showing her the workings of his TARDIS before the fated night, when Alryssa had pounded the doors, frightened and guilt-ridden. She'd told him everything -- except why she'd done it, which hadn't helped her defence.

     Suddenly, he felt the mental touch again, that same mental touch he had felt in the TARDIS.

-- 26 --



     He stopped by one of the many large windows that opened onto the Gallifreyan landscape outside the Citadel, the burnt orange sky above, the sun shining on his soft curls framing a face that betrayed the owner's true age. Then, it became clear. The entire reason, the mystery was solved. But at such a price to Alryssa! The Doctor now recognised the emotion, a human emotion that Alryssa had resisted to confess because it was an emotion Time Lords, as a result of extensive genetic engineering, were not supposed to possess, or at least, did not discuss. As he realised, it stirred a great sorrow inside him, and he closed his blue eyes, briefly.

     She had sacrificed everything she knew, for this. She had taken the decision to spare the Doctor the truth in fear of the repercussions. She had feared him? True, his arrogant sixth self had been less approachable, but to the extent of fear? Looking out to see the silver trees and yellow flowers that dominated the view, the Doctor at last understood the emotion of what humans termed love. She had killed Ridona because he'd discovered her affection for the Doctor, and was going to report her to the genetic rehabilitation unit. In the confrontation that had followed his attempt to blackmail her, Alryssa had accidentally burnt out his mind, killing him.

     The Gallifreyan sun glistened briefly through the trees, and caught the unchecked tear that tracked its short course and splashed silently, unnoticed by the Time Lord, to the hard cold parterre. After a few moments, he felt a presence in the corridor. Turning, he saw Alecia standing a few metres away, quietly, wearing her original clothes instead of the regulation pyjamas.

     The look on her face asked him the unspoken question. The silent exchange between the pair said everything. He knew, understood, and would never betray her trust; she knew, and asked nothing in return, and had never asked for anything, save his guidance. He could see a change in her; a change behind her eyes, of maturity and an acceptance, if shaky, of her true identity. The Doctor was not going to let her second chance be wasted. He also felt partly responsible for her; after all, if they had never had that chance encounter in London she would never have rediscovered her true identity.

     "Alecia," he said, quietly, "you have a choice."

     "A choice?"

     "You can stay here on Gallifrey, let the past be resolved, resume your education..." He'd see to that. She could not be convicted for the same crime twice.

     Alecia looked up and down the corridors, but saw no-one. Her mouth crept up at the corners. This sounded like the Doctor she had known. How could she refuse?

     "What? Now?"

-- 27 --



     "Why not? Come on."

     "On one condition, Doctor."

     The Doctor raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

     "Which is...?"

     "Teach me."

     He studied the younger Time Lord's face, then beamed. Her eagerness to learn had not diminished with time.

     "Done," he replied, "Have a jelly baby." He reached into his pocket, and brought out the familiar white bag with a characteristic flourish. Alecia took a red one, and grinned at him, then dashed off to fetch Chris and Jayne. The Doctor took a last look over his shoulder at the large decorated doors to the President's office, which opened suddenly. The President saw him, and called his name.

     "Doctor? There is a matter of some urgency I need to discuss with you..."

     He turned away, straightening and taking a deep breath. He then started to run down the corridors, passing two startled guards. He reached the TARDIS to find Jayne, Chris and Alecia just going in. He dashed in after them, shutting the TARDIS door. Swiftly, he worked the controls on the console and the TARDIS began to dematerialize, its characteristic wheezing, groaning, whining sound echoing round the Citadel.

     "Well," he said, to nobody in particular, "I'm sure there's a planet round here somewhere that needs saving…"

THE END

-- 28 --


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