Chapter Text
‘The thing with satellites is, they’re truly fascinating inventions,’ the Doctor said. ‘I mean, they’ve got a bit of a dodgy history, but there’s one orbiting Earth right now that’s predicted to re-enter the atmosphere in 8.4 million years, with a message addressed to the civilisation of the future. Isn’t that amazing?’
She was messing around with the controls again, using a skateboard to go under the console. Yaz sat nearby, rummaging in the toolbox.
‘I did something like that in year 6,’ she said. ‘Wrote a letter to my future self. It was edgy as anything,’
‘Oh, I’ve done those,’ the Doctor chuckled. ‘Conducted myself a whole speech about how to live on. Very fun things, memory capsules, but pretty redundant when you’re a time traveller,’
‘Yeah … satellites, though, you were talking about satellites,’
‘Did you know, of the 8000 satellites currently orbiting the Earth, only one has been destroyed by a meteorite?’
‘Oh, there’s got to be more than that. What about Orpheus 6?’
‘What about it?’
‘Well, it went missing, didn’t it? Vanished right into thin air. Everyone was convinced it was some kind of freak meteor shower,’
The Doctor changed a few cables around. ‘I’m sure I wouldn’t know anything about that,’
Yaz laughed. ‘I always loved the idea of satellites, though - and moons. It’s like those symbiotic relationships animals form with each other, but inanimate objects - ah, I think I might have short-circuited when I first found out the moon controls the tides,’
The Doctor was looking at her. She was wearing her goggles, so Yaz couldn’t tell her expression, but she was smiling.
‘Doc?’
The Doctor just chuckled, turning back to her work. ’You’re very clever, Yaz,’
‘Oh … thank you,’
‘Never had a good history with moons. They’re always full of spiders, or a therapist anti-virus software, or -,’
The central rotor of the TARDIS came thundering to a halt. The static of the time vortex dissipated, and the Doctor spread her arms wide.
‘We’re here! Ha!’ She clapped her hands together and scurrying out from under the console.
Yaz closed the toolbox and stowed it under one of the seats. The Doctor strode toward the door, grabbing her coat on the way. Yaz followed uncertainly. Noise from outside echoed through the doors as the doctor flung them open, the light pouring around her in a halo.
‘Where are we?’ Yaz asked.
‘Talarian Market,’ the Doctor said, gesturing. ‘The biggest civilisation on Castillo,’
‘Castillo … that’s one of Jupiter’s moons, right?’
‘Yep!’
‘Oh, so we’re not too far from home?’
‘You’re not, no,’ the Doctor said, shutting the TARDIS behind her.
They were in an alleyway, just off from what looked like a high street. Yaz stepped out of the alcove the TARDIS had materialised into - a tiny nook of space between two enormous striped tents. There was music in the air, and smoke, too - the Doctor tugged on her sleeve away from it.
‘Gotta be careful with inhaling that stuff,’ she muttered. ‘Last time I got a lungful of Sycorax bonfire I almost lost all my teeth,’
Yaz laughed. ‘Tim Shaw would have been delighted,’
The Doctor laughed in response. Yaz let out a small, relieved sigh. Travelling alone with the Doctor seemed like a wish come true, a chance for them to actually talk alone, stand on diamond cliff faces and watch stars fall together, should they want to. But the second the TARDIS took off again, a dark, anxious feeling was forming in her stomach. If she screwed up conversation with the Doctor, if a joke fell flat, there was no one to jump in and fill the awkward silence.
’My first girlfriend took me for a date at a market,’ Yaz said.
The Doctor made an odd, awkward move with one hand. ‘Oh?’
‘Yeah. A big one, in central London,’
‘Oh … yeah. Been there quite a few times. Best time was when the Thames froze over, I ended up freeing a great big leviathan from the ice,’
‘Wow. Never a quiet day for you, is there?’
The Doctor just smiled.
Stalls were set up all over the place, some piled on top of each other or sunken into the ground, walkways and ladders tangling above them like a canopy. A large bird sat over one of the stalls, a raven that seemed to leak smoke from its feathers - the Doctor caught sight of her looking, and scowled, pulling her down a different street.
A handful of Carrionites stood over a huge pile of crystals, although they seemed more preoccupied with hoarding them than selling them. A group of Hath soldiers stood around a stall selling mechanics, towering over Yaz. A lady with blue skin was selling potted plants - Yaz paused by them.
‘Would these be … safe to take to Earth?’ She asked, pointing to a handful of crimson succulents.
‘If they were in terrariums, yeah,’ the Doctor said.
‘If they weren’t …?’
‘Well, it would probably trigger another biennial apocalypse, but you can decide if that’s a gamble ya wanna take or not,’
‘Hmm … nah,’
The Doctor glanced at the table of what looked like garden ornaments beside it, and leaned away. ‘Best not to, actually,’
‘What are those?’
‘Smashed-up Weeping Angels,’ the Doctor said. ’They’re supposed to ward against intruders if you put them in your garden, but … well, I did hear a theory that they can respawn from broken shards of themselves, so best to steer clear of this area for a bit,’
‘Weeping Angels?’ Yaz asked.
‘Yeah,’ she didn’t elaborate.
They continued on their way. The Doctor seemed to be enjoying herself, even if she seemed to look at a few stalls with trepidation in her eyes - she avoided the bars, especially.
‘What’s wrong?’ Yaz asked, after they completed a full U-turn away from the nearest pub. ‘Are they selling tooth-removal spliffs too?’
’Always run into people at bars. Captain Jack, my wife, my husband, you name it. Best to avoid them,’
‘Ah,’ Yaz pulled her arm free.
A handful of women in white cloaks flowed past, eerily silent in the din of the market. Yaz caught a glimpse of a face under the hood - their faces were entirely covered in eyes. They all flicked to look at her, and Yaz quickly averted her gaze.
‘Oh, careful of them. Priests of the Beholding,’ the Doctor said. ‘They’ll be able to see all your secrets,’
Yaz grimaced. ‘All of them?’
‘Mainly the things you regret,’ the Doctor said, staring resolutely at the sky as the Priests went past.
‘Huh. Well … yeah, let’s steer clear of them. What year is it?’ Yaz asked, looking up at the sky above. It was lit with several huge pink lanterns, the stars beyond still and unblinking, in the strange way stars looked when she wasn’t on Earth. The Doctor said it was something about Earth’s atmosphere that distorted them into twinkling, but Yaz thought they looked better this way - honest, real. Tangible.
’1325, on Earth,’ the Doctor replied. ‘This market will keep on thriving for centuries, until humans land here in the early 22nd century,’
‘Really?’ Yaz said.
‘Yeah!’
‘So … no humans for, like, another ten centuries?’
‘Give or take, yeah,’
‘Then who are they?’
The Doctor followed the direction of Yaz’s finger. She was pointing to a couple studying an array of engine parts laid out over a tarp, a man with the head of a praying mantis pointing out various deals. The pair were both older than Yaz, maybe late forties, a man and a woman. The man was tall and thin, with a mess of dark auburn hair streaked with grey, his eyes lined but cheerful, dressed in a long overcoat that seemed to be more patches than actual fabric. He was carrying a huge backpack, wires hanging to his ankles, cables dragging behind him. She’d thought he was just another market-goer - Yaz had, after all, seen a lot of humanoid entities throughout the market - but none were wearing Chuck Taylors. They were taped up and bleached of colour, but an anachronism that felt like a slap to the face.
The woman seemed familiar. Yaz was sure she’d seen her on the news, once. She had long blonde hair that reached her elbows, and was dressed similarly to her companion, in a ragged leather jacket and riding trousers, a pair of boots held together with rough stitching and safety pins.
‘We need to go,’ the Doctor said, grabbing her hand.
‘Why - what if they’re other time travellers?’
‘Yasmin,’ the Doctor said, and Yaz almost reflexively pulled her hand back. Her voice had dropped several octaves, and the look in her eyes … Yaz had a sudden image of a space station bursting into flames, though she couldn’t pinpoint where the memory was from, or why she’d thought of it.
‘We need to go,’ the Doctor said, her voice level again. ‘Come on … if you wanted to grab one of those plants, I think the vendor deals in -,’
‘Doctor, are they old friends of yours?’ Yaz asked, searching the crowds for the faces.
‘No. Yeah … I don’t know. Maybe. They probably hate me by now,’ the Doctor froze, standing stock still in the middle of the street. A Graske bumped into Yaz, and jumped back, glaring and muttering their grievances.
‘Sorry,’ Yaz mumbled. ‘Doctor, what’s wrong?’
’1325,’ the Doctor muttered. She spun around. ‘They can’t be here,’
‘Are we going to speak to them?’ Yaz asked. ‘They must be time travellers, the bloke was wearing converse -,’
A boom split the air. The ground trembled and several stalls lost their wares as people raced for cover. The Doctor strode toward the source of the noise - right back the way they’d came.
A broken spaceship had landed. It was burning, twisted and bent out of shape. Smoke tore up into the sky in enormous clouds, fire blazed and died in flurries of sparks, suffocating as it struck the alien air.
The Doctor was on the scene in seconds, waving the sonic around as the front of the spaceship collapsed into a mess of melting metal.
The Doctor rushed back as one of the engines exploded with an ear-splitting shriek, clusters of blue fire whistling into the sky.
‘What’s going on?!’ Yaz yelled.
The Doctor’s coat was on fire. Yaz patted it out as she read the results on her screwdriver.
Yaz stared at the ship. ‘Doctor … that looks like a rocket. Like an Earth rocket,’
‘Hmm,’
‘Did you get the date wrong?’
‘No,’ the Doctor turned and scanned the wreckage again.
‘Well, then how -,’
’It’s fallen through a rift,’ she said, shortly. ‘A split in time,’
Yaz looked in the air where the spacecraft had fallen through. ‘I don’t see anything?’
‘It’s gone now … closed up,’ the Doctor frowned, then turned away. ‘Come on. We need to find those two you saw earlier,’
‘Why? What do they have to do with it?’
‘Because I think one of them - the girl … I knew her …,’ the Doctor sighed. ‘I have a bad feeling she’s involved,’
Yaz glanced back at the ship. ‘Should we do something about that? Send it back?’
‘It’s an unmanned satellite. It’ll leave some very confused scientists in the future and likely kick-start a hell of a conspiracy. Maybe even a cult,’ the Doctor paused. ‘Huh. That does explain a few things, actually. Anyway, it’ll probably be stripped for parts in less than an hour. Might kickstart a few economies around here, if the right deals are struck,’
‘What was the name of the satellite?’
‘Orpheus 6,’
‘Yes! Oh, that’s great,’
‘What?’
‘I got into an argument with this one guy online about what happened to it. My argument was time travel, his was aliens. I was right!’
‘Well … in a way, you both were,’
‘Yeah, well … don’t tell him that,’
‘HA!’ The Doctor pointed to the entrance of the alleyway that held the TARDIS. The man was hovering awkwardly, hands in his pockets. He jumped at the Doctor’s outburst, raising his hands in alarm. His hands were stained with engine oil, the nails painted black. He had a thin, peaky face with intense eyes and deep wrinkles.
The Doctor froze as she looked at him. He frowned in return, taking in the sonic screwdriver. His mouth fell open and his shoulders relaxed.
‘Oh, no …,’
‘Donna, what’s going on?’ Came a voice - the woman.
The Doctor backed away, bumping into Yaz as she did so. Yaz put an uncertain arm around her shoulders. She seemed smaller, somehow. She wondered if Time Lords could shrink when they were afraid, the way cats puffed up their tails.
The blonde woman was there. She had very strange eyes - the same colour as her hair, but brighter - like the light that came through the TARDIS windows upon landing … or the light she’d seen clinging to the Doctor’s hands when they’d first met, a vicious, electric glow that looked like a frozen gunshot.
‘Hello, Rose,’ the Doctor said.