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River Song opened her eyes to a perfect sky. The few clouds that floated high above her were ghosts of perfect white, trailing in the wake of a gentle breeze and shining with her skin in the radiance of the equally gentle sun. Each sensation delivered an acute surge of joy; beneath her shoes was the soft texture of dirt and grass, the resistance of the Library’s sturdy floors falling away from her like a half-forgotten dream; with each deep breath, clean air tickled her lungs and soothed where the artificial scents and metallic tangs had singed her nostrils.
Though she remained unsure where she was exactly, the tranquillity of her new environment was in stark contrast to the brief but fearsome agony she felt ripping through her body mere seconds ago. River’s senses acclimatised to the changes, but the phantom pains were yet to subside entirely; she remembered the countdown and the upload, and, through it all, the ache in her chest as she looked for the last time into the teary eyes of the man she loved.
He was gone. But, she remembered, so was she.
‘It’s okay,’ a voice assured her, ‘you’re safe. You’ll always be safe here.’
River looked down at herself – her new clothes, despite paling in comparison to her previous outfits and ensembles, were pleasant enough to wear – and around at the vast lawn ahead of her. Then, as though she materialised from nowhere, a little girl appeared before River. She smiled sweetly with a familiar face; a memory from the Library pressed itself into River’s mind and she recalled the girl’s name was Charlotte.
‘The Doctor fixed the data core,’ she explained to River. ‘This is a good place now. But I was worried you might be lonely, so I brought you some friends. Aren’t I a clever girl?’
Before River could reply, another voice called to her, ‘Aren’t we all?’
She turned around and watched with amazement as four people, all of whom were clad in shades of creamy white similar to her own, approached from the building behind her. River remembered them, too, and knew that Charlotte spoke truthfully: they were her friends.
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ she whispered to herself. ‘He just can’t do it, can he? That man. That impossible man.’ Seeing with her own eyes the result of the Doctor’s latest triumph, River smiled; the blue suit and wild hair of the Doctor resolved in her mind’s eye and, for a moment, she imagined him flashing his wild grin with a cheeky wink. ‘He just can’t give in…’
Charlotte watched River and the others run to each other, smiling as they laughed and hugged one another. Their happiness was hard to resist and, with a smile of her own, she found herself looking up at her companion. He stood at nearly twice her height with an almost clinical disposition – exacerbated by the buttoned jacket and perfect collar of his simple suit – but Charlotte had long since seen through that austere exterior. ‘I like it when stories end like this,’ she said. ‘I like happy endings.’
Behind the thin rims of his spectacles, the man’s eyes softened. ‘Me too. In my experience,’ he mused, ‘they’re quite rare. But, I suppose, that’s what makes them so wonderful.’
‘She didn’t look at you,’ Charlotte said, a slight wrinkle forming at her brow. ‘Can she not see you?’
He smiled, ‘I’m not sure.’
‘Is the data core still adjusting? Is something wrong? Doctor Moon?’
‘Charlotte,’ he said, holding up a hand. ‘It’s all right. I’m sure Professor Song just needs some time.’
‘Some time alone?’
Doctor Moon stood with his hands folded neatly at his front, his gaze lingering on the happy group in front of him. ‘Alone is a tricky word, Charlotte. She’s already fully integrated, but it would do her some good to spend some time with her friends. They’ve been through a lot today. Things may change by tomorrow. They often do.’
River listened with Miss Evangelista and Dave – Proper Dave – to Anita and Dave – Other Dave – as they explained what happened from their perspectives, interjecting only to elaborate on the finer details of the Library’s inner workings. She explained where she could, but shared in their confusion as she sensed a part of her mind was yet to properly engage. She had lived a long life and, in that time, experienced wonders, enjoyed adventures, and witnessed sights many would regard as impossible; she prided herself on the vast catalogue of knowledge she had procured over centuries, but, as she spared a glance back at Charlotte, she struggled to comprehend the figure at the little girl’s side.
‘Professor?’ Anita asked. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Hm? Yes. Yes,’ River replied, ‘I’m fine.’
Proper Dave shared a look with the others. ‘We can give you a moment, if you want.’
River tried to focus on the face of the suited shape to no avail. ‘Yes,’ she said absently. She shook her head, ‘Sorry, I don’t know what it is.’
‘It’s probably just you settling into things,’ said Miss Evangelista.
‘It happens to the best of us,’ smiled Other Dave.
‘Does that make me the best of us?’ she asked. ‘Makes a change from the escape pod. Oh, sorry, I meant “the toilet”.’
Anita and Other Dave groaned to Proper Dave’s amusement, ‘Enough of that. Come on.’ He waved them away and gave another smile to River, ‘We’ll be inside.’
As the others departed, River found herself staring again at the suited figure. The clothes and the broad shoulders underneath made it apparent even from a distance that he was a man, but, as she started towards him and the distance between them grew shorter, the other details remained unclear.
‘Do you want me to go?’ Charlotte whispered to Doctor Moon.
‘Do you want to go?’ he asked.
‘I’ve got some books to read.’
‘Then I won’t keep you.’
River watched the man wave to Charlotte. She could hear the little girl’s voice, yet, somehow, the man was silent. His face was concealed by a small distortion, his features constantly shifting in ceaseless activity that eluded River’s comprehension. ‘I’m sorry,’ she began, ‘I’m sure it’s terribly impolite of me to ask this, but who are you?’
She strained to listen as the distortion faltered and the faint form of words struggled through to her. ‘Not rude—all. I’m— But you—that—I’m sure.’
River sighed, ‘No, I’m sorry. I’m still not getting it.’
There was a pause. Then, he spoke. ‘Think.’
‘All right,’ she said. ‘One word answers seem to work. Keep it brief. Think about what?’
‘Me.’
‘I hardly know you. At least, I’m pretty sure I don’t. No offence.’
‘Suit.’
River looked at his suit. ‘What about it? It’s rather plain. Although,’ she said, looking at the spotted pattern on his tie, ‘the accessories show some promise.’
‘Haircut.’
River the absence of hair on his head. ‘Mine or yours?’ She groaned, ‘I’m sorry. But, unless you get more specific, we’re not—’
‘Darillium.’
Her mouth felt suddenly dry. At the mention of that planet, River receded through the years and found herself standing on a balcony, gazing out at the singing towers with the Doctor – her Doctor – by her side. She knew that stories existed of their time there, that there were no shortage of accounts chronicling the last night the pair spent together, but she was nevertheless taken aback. ‘How do you… How?’
‘Think, River.’
She blinked, ‘Two words! That’s something, I suppose. But I want an answer. Why Darillium? How do you know about it?’
‘Library books.’ The tone was still garbled but contained a hint of sarcasm.
‘Oh, very clever.’ River rolled her eyes, ‘If you’re not going to tell me, I’d be better off figuring it out myself.’
‘I’m sure.’
‘I am!’
‘I know.’
‘Good!’
After a pause, he prompted, ‘Go on.’
River put her hands on her hips. ‘Well, we’re in the data core,’ she began, ‘I know that much. And that means I’m an upload like everyone else here. Like Anita and the others. But Cal’s not an upload in the same way. She’s the control node.’
‘That’s right.’
‘She’s at the heart of it,’ River continued, ‘but she looked the same. Which would make sense considering they’re all uploaded from the Library. But you’re… Well, not to be rude, but you’re out of place.’
‘Thank you.’
River could almost detect a smile. ‘We’re all uploaded from the Library, but maybe your whatever-you-call-it,’ she said, gesturing to his hidden face, ‘is a side effect of the way I got here. I plugged myself in, so maybe I’m still adjusting.’
‘Maybe not.’
‘You think otherwise?’
‘I know,’ he corrected.
‘Then what is it? I doubt you’ll be able to explain in two words.’
‘Only one.’
‘Really? Do tell.’
‘Doctor,’ he said.
River exhaled. ‘Ah. Doctor Moon. I should’ve known.’
‘Concentrate, River,’ he said. ‘—time, but—become clearer. Concentrate.’
River obliged and, for a while, stood in peaceful silence with her eyes closed. There was no birdsong to cast her mind astray and no noise whatsoever until she heard the voice of Doctor Moon cut through clearer than before.
‘That’s good,’ he said. ‘You should be settling into things now.’
‘Yes,’ she smiled. River resisted the urge to open her eyes, worried that doing so might steal away the dulcet tones of the man in front of her. ‘Your voice… It’s…’
‘Familiar?’ he asked. ‘It should be. I’m not sure how long it’s been for you, but… Well, let’s just say I’ve run out of things to read.’
‘In the biggest library in the universe? There aren’t many people I know who can boast about that. There’s really only one that comes to mind.’
‘Just one?’
‘My husband,’ she said. ‘Well, if we’re being pedantic then I should really use the plural.’
‘How many?’
Memories danced on the inside of her eyelids. The face of a white-haired man morphed into a scruffier type playing the recorder. Then, she saw a dandy in a smoking jacket, a fool in a long scarf, and a young blond dressed as a cricketer; she saw a colourful coat, an umbrella, and the charming eyes of a lover; she saw a soldier shift into a veteran in a leather jacket, and a blue suit shift into a tweed jacket.
Then, like a nightmare, she remembered a dead body. She had found a corpse on Ves 45 and, with bated breath, watched the diagnostic readout confirm the worst; River fought against the memory but was powerless to deny what she had come across—she had seen the final death of the Doctor.
‘It’s all right,’ Doctor Moon said.
His words were the first indication River had that her discomfort was in any way evident on her face.
‘You don’t need to answer. If I’m right,’ he continued, ‘you should be at fourteen faces.’
River remembered the striking eyebrows that melted into a loving gaze on Darillium and smiled. ‘Yes. One for every day of a fortnight,’ she chuckled. ‘But…’ She could no longer suppress the urge and opened her eyes, ‘How can you know that?’
The distortion around Doctor Moon’s face was somehow lessened, the darker void replaced by a simple blur, the details behind it clearer than before, albeit not by much. He held out an open hand and River, compelled by some instinct deep with her, found herself taking it. ‘Walk with me.’
River accepted the offer and found a strange comfort in the weight of his hand in hers. Before long, the day surrendered to the night and, as the pair concluded their final promenade through the garden, they looked up at the stars and the full moon above them. ‘It’s a beautiful night,’ River said.
‘It always is here,’ he replied. ‘But nights are often made better by the company we keep.’
River blushed. ‘Rather forward, Doctor Moon. We’ve only just met—’ She stopped herself when she noticed how, in the glow of the moon, the blur had fallen away from his face. Her eyes grew wider. ‘You…’ she gasped. ‘It’s… It’s you—this you.’
The spectacles perched upon his handsome nose almost sparkled as his mouth curled into a soft smile.
‘I can’t believe I forgot’ she said.
‘You forgot,’ he nodded. ‘But, then, you remembered.’
River kissed his cheek. ‘You came back to me.’
‘I always do. Hello, Sweetie.’