The Coming of the Teraphiles

  defying the gravities of a million worlds and riding the winds

  of the distant sky. How she had been able to sail here, how

  she resisted the pull of the black hole in order to perform this

  all-but impossible feat, nobody knew, but it spoke of superb

  spacemanship and an instinct for the multiverse only a few

  possessed.

  They looked around them. Two black and brass boats had

  already landed on the space-field, joining the other beautiful,

  slender space tender steaming, bright brass and silver, in the

  cool, dawn air where high overhead, her sails reefed, lay the

  star clipper. Somehow, the Paine, of all ships, had risked the

  horrors of inter-multiversal space. She had managed to sail

  through the scales of the multiverse and find them, following

  the course of the Ghost System, a feat never performed

  until now. To find a needle in a needle stack. Here were her

  passenger tenders, waiting to take them off. And there before

  the trio of ships stood a tall figure in a navy blue and gold

  uniform whisking off his cap and bowing. Amy wondered

  what his expression might be behind that cold iron mask.

  She imagined he was smiling at their astonishment. Now, at

  least, she understood why he had demanded the necklace

  aboard the Gargantua.

  Two hours later, they were preparing for take-off. By the

  time everyone was settled in their seats Captain Cornelius

  had enjoyed a small demi-shant and a good breakfast and,

  from his seat across from Amy, offered her the celestial

  necklace lying in the flat of his hand and no longer moving.

  She took it gingerly.

  'The vitality will return, don't worry.' He had noticed her

  disappointment. 'That necklace has done a lot of good work.

  And believe me it was mine to give away. It was my map as

  well as my compass. That's how I could find Miggea. It took

  some tricky sailing and I'll admit to you that I was frightened

  we wouldn't make it, with only your celestial necklace to

  lead me to you. I'll explain the rest when we're aboard.' He

  seemed to relish her fresh awareness of what the celestial

  necklace actually was.

  An hour later, in his spacious and comfortably austere

  cabin aboard the Paine, Captain Cornelius explained how the

  necklace had been his. 'A gift from my Diana. She wanted to

  be sure I was here when you needed me. She left it with an

  antiquarian on Venice when she decided it was time to leave,

  presumably for Loondoon. Stolen by Frank/Freddie Force

  when they visited me. They knew what it was, of course.

  There's nothing stupid or uneducated about General Force.

  That's what makes them so dangerous.'

  She had left Ironface the map not to lead him to her but to

  help him find Miggea. Somehow she knew he would play a

  part in the cosmic drama, knew he would either take them

  to Miggea or be there to save them from being marooned in

  Miggea once they had fulfilled their task and used the Bow

  of Diana to shoot the Arrow of Artemis into the heart of the

  multiverse.

  'I have to say, you did a wonderful job, steering your way

  through all those different systems to reach us,' said the

  Doctor, 'even with that map and compass. It's so intricate. To

  calculate all those orbits within orbits demands mathematical

  skills beyond most of us. Wheels within wheels within

  wheels...' He raised his glass in salute. 'We'd have been

  marooned in Miggea for a lifetime if you hadn't worked it

  out. Thanks, captain.'

  Captain Cornelius bowed in acknowledgement. 'Wheels

  within wheels, as you say, Doctor. Shadows of shadows. Self-

  similarity is the key to all as all our actions are reproduced

  throughout the multiverse. Resonances. Echoes...'

  And, as Captain Cornelius observed when he made his

  plans to visit a certain milliner in Old Loondoon, travelling

  as usual under his alias, he would spare Lady Peggy the

  planned punishment. After all, she had actually helped him

  discover his lost Diana and, with W.G. Grace, who knew

  the most about hats and so forth, she would go with him to

  Loondoon to find Diana, or at least perhaps a warm trail.

  'Won't you come with us, Doctor?' Cornelius tapped out

  his pipe in his cupped hand. 'We're natural friends. So much

  in common.'

  'Except I try to hold things together. And you...'

  'Oh, I don't blow stuff up any more. You must know that.

  I'm a reformed individual.'

  They shook hands. And Amy decided to keep the already

  enlivened necklace.

  As the Paine prepared to sail back to its own space-time

  where the Gargantua awaited them, Hari and Flapper became

  increasingly gloomy. Bingo's death, though the worst

  calamity they could imagine, had definitely destroyed their

  anticipated happiness. The Paine began her journey back

  through the multiverse, out of the Second Aether and into

  their home universe. Every few hours saw another sickening

  twist into single reality until, far too soon, they emerged at

  last beneath familiar stars laid against the darkness of normal

  space-time where the Gargantua hung to take them home.

  Now the time of parting drew closer. Flapper no longer

  hid her tears and Hari's back became stiffer and stiffer as

  he prepared for their final moments. There was nothing he

  could offer her. A man had no right to declare his love to a

  woman if he could not pay his own way at the very least.

  Flapper knew that she could not offer Hari any help, having

  no money of her own. Besides, his pride would not let him

  marry if he could not provide for her.

  In the second-class lounge, the night after they were on

  their way, Hari and Flapper held hands over quarter-shants

  of VW and discussed how life might have been so much

  better but for a subtle twist of fate.

  Entering from the first-class deck, Mr and Mrs Banning-

  Cannon nodded to the lovers who each defiantly retained

  a sturdy grip on the other's hand. But when Mr Banning-

  Cannon summoned Hari to his table and Mrs Banning-

  Canning ordered her daughter to the bar, common politeness

  made the couple comply.

  Hari immediately blurted his feelings to the Tiger of the

  Terraforming business.

  'Look here, sir, I'm not going to lie to you, I love your

  daughter but if my hanging around spoils her chances of

  making a decent marriage—'

  'Don't give me that!' declared the planet-master. 'I have

  something to say to you, young Agincourt and I won't be

  interrupted.'

  Hari drew a deep breath and waited for the worst. 'Right,

  sir.'

  'Good. Now you and Lord Robin were the best of friends,

  I take it.'

  'Like brothers, sir. Since we were nippers.'

  'Exactly. And he had no relatives, I'm told, except a distant

  uncle who is a magistrate in your neck of the woods.'

  'That's right, sir. He isn't wealthy, unfortunately; rather

  depends on his stipend...'

  'Yes, yes. Well
, you'll be able to sort all that kind of thing

  out. I was going, as you might be aware, to give Lord Robin

  the deeds to the planet. Lock, stock and barrel.'

  'He'd mentioned something of the sort, sir, yes,'

  'Out of which, I under stand, he was going to give you

  some local land and a title or some such, thus enabling you

  to make a bid - that is, ask me for the hand of my beloved

  daughter, Jane.'

  'Uh umyum,' said Hari.

  'Quite,' said Mr Banning-Cannon. 'Well, in the

  circumstances, and considering I have had a chance to see

  how you go about things and so on - well, sir, I'm going to

  give you what I was going to give young Bingo. But there's

  a condition. You have to take some sort of title - preferably

  the one Bingo can't take now. Say, Hari, Lord Sherwood.

  Earl of Hood or however these things go. I have to admit,'

  said the tycoon dropping his voice, 'I have a motive here. If

  Flapper gets a title, I can't see Mrs Banning-Cannon having

  any further objection to the marriage.'

  'Gosh, sir!' Hari was ecstatic. 'I say!'

  Rather strenuously, he began pumping Mr Banning-

  Cannon's hand.

  Meanwhile, by the bar, Mrs Banning-Cannon was

  confiding something to her daughter. 'In all my days, I have

  not had a young man - or indeed a man of any age - stand up

  to me the way Hari Agincourt stood up to me the other day,

  and I realised that I rather admired his quality of command.

  Therefore, Jane dear, I have thought things over and, if there's

  some sort of decent job your father can find for Mr Agincourt,

  who presumably, by some ancient tradition my husband

  explained but which I don't quite understand, ascends to the

  title, I am prepared to give you both my blessing. As for your

  dowry, well, I have something rather disgraceful to admit

  to you.' She coloured a little and sipped her drink. 'I fear I

  gave in to an old weakness before we went down to Flynn

  to watch the match. I had, I must state in my own defence,

  become horribly bored.'

  'Gosh, ma, I'm not going to have to visit you in jug, am

  I?'

  Mrs Banning-Cannon's normally grim features softened

  into a broad, rather charming smile. 'Good heavens, no! But

  I did break five years of abstinence. I'm afraid I put rather

  a lot down for the Gentleman to win the Tournament. As a

  result I returned to the Gargantua to discover that I had won

  a somewhat handsome sum of bluebacks - several million,

  in fact. And, because I should not profit from breaking my

  promise to Professor Disch, my psychiatrist, you know, I

  intend to bestow the whole amount on you and Hari, so that

  you can start life with a nice little nest egg!'

  'Gosh! Oh, I say, ma, that's awfully good of you!' Flapper

  threw her arms about her mother and embraced her more

  enthusiastically than she had ever embraced her before. 'Oh,

  I say!'

  She looked around her. The bar was filling up. Hari was

  nowhere to be seen. Maybe he'd stepped out for some clear

  oxygen, given his mood. She went to look for Amy.

  Amy was in the reception area standing outside some

  kind of antique monument Flapper didn't remember seeing

  before. A big blue box with archaic writing on it. Amy was

  not in good spirits. Flapper thought perhaps Amy had had

  stronger feelings for Bingo than she realised. Also, of course,

  Amy had been with Bingo when he went over the side.

  'I was wondering where you were,' Amy said. 'We'll be

  leaving soon.'

  'Yes. Four or five days, eh? Of course.'

  'We won't be going with you to the next port. We're leaving

  tonight.'

  'Oh, that's a ship of some kind is it? Gosh. That's a w f u l

  Amy. You're off, then. In that little thing. I say!' A fresh tear

  blossomed in Flapper's left eye.

  'I'm afraid this is the last night I'll be seeing you, Flapper.

  I hope you and Hari can get things sorted...'

  'Oh, don't worry about that. I think we're going to be OK.

  But I'd rather hoped you'd be my maid-of-honour...'

  'You're actually, really, really getting married?! That's

  absolutely marvellous, Flapper!' Amy did that hugging and

  jumping up and down thing girls do to show pleasure.

  'You're the first to know!'

  Hari came beaming out of the bar. 'I was looking for you,

  Flaps. Your pa's proven to be an absolute brick. Your ma, too,

  actually.' And he told her what had transpired.

  When all the hugs and jumps were over, Hari said: 'I ought

  to thank the Doctor. Any idea where he is, Amy?'

  'Well, he's—'

  The door of the TARDIS swung open and the Doctor's

  face peered out at them. His eyes were positively sparkling.

  'Everything ship-shape and Bristol fashion, Jim lad! Ready to

  come aboard?'

  'Aye, aye, captain.' She gave him a mock salute.

  A few minutes later, they stood together in the TARDIS

  while the Doctor fiddled with some old electrical equipment

  complete with big vacuum tubes, an antique microphone

  and a pair of 'head-cans'.

  'Now I understand a bit better how you think,' she said.

  'Who you are.'

  'How's that, Amy Pond?'

  'I think it's because of you being one of a kind,' she said.

  'Yeah? Put your finger on that for a minute, could you?'

  'Well, anyway. I hated Bingo going the way he did. But

  I was glad it was him and not the rest of us. Do you know

  what I mean?'

  'Yup,' said the Doctor. 'Pass me that hammer, would

  you?'

  'So in all these universes there might be more Amy Ponds,

  more - I don't know - Jonathan Rosses and Will Smiths and

  Gabe Byrnes?'

  'Yep. More or less.'

  'And more Doctors?'

  'Ah, well...'

  'You really are the only one?'

  'Time Lord. The Time War got a bit desperate towards the

  end.'

  'But you said our actions were echoed over and over again

  as if to infinity.'

  'But by us. I'm not sure. There are people who take

  the same actions, fulfil, if you like, the same destinies.

  Everywhere, throughout the multiverse there are people

  like us trying to put things right or sometimes just trying to

  stop things getting any worse - echoes of echoes, shadows of

  shadows. Call some archetypes. Jung did. But maybe we're

  all archetypes. Maybe there's no such thing as an original?

  Maybe the multiverse has no original. The World Snake

  eats its own tail. No beginning and no end.' He looked into

  her eyes. He grinned. 'We carry on for ever. Paradox upon

  paradox,'

  'That's a thought,' she said. Then she clapped her hands

  together and looked business-like. 'So! Where are we going?'

  She again gave her attention to the controls.

  'First off, I think we need to get back to your own time,

  don't you?' He smiled. 'Check a few things out. What's the

  scanner showing?'

  Amy peered up at the screen. And there was the Milky

  Way in all her golden, scintillating glory.
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  'So what do you see?' He was busy with some retro

  switches.

  'Well, it's our galaxy. What else should I be looking at?'

  And then she gasped as the truth dawned on her. 'Oh!

  They've gone! You did it, Doctor! The black tides have gone!'

  She sat down suddenly. 'Oh, wow!'

  'Well, we did it,' he said. 'And Bingo was the true hero.

  Not at all bad, eh, for a gentleman amateur. That's his real

  monument... out there. We can celebrate later with the Bubbly

  Boys and I suspect well see more of Captain Cornelius, too.'

  From somewhere they heard faint funky music. The toot

  of a distant foghorn.

  The Doctor stopped. Rubbing his chin he looked out at

  the galaxy. 'Clean as a whistle, eh? Well, clean as she needs

  to be. We'd best be getting back to base. OK with you? I'm

  expecting an urgent message.' He turned a few knobs and

  flicked a few switches. 'Oh, sweet duroo, how I love you...'

  'What are you doing?' she wanted to know.

  'Something I shouldn't,' he told her. 'It's pretty much

  against all the rules. Physical or metaphysical. But the risks

  had to be - will have to be - taken.'

  'What?' She sat down, more pleased than she could have

  guessed that they were heading for home. Home? She looked

  about her at the strange mixture: alien engineering, intelligent

  and wise. Arrogant and intuitive science, as much magic as

  machine by now. Humane and yet utterly inhuman...

  There came the usual sound of rusty shopping carts being

  dragged over sheets of corrugated tin, and the TARDIS began

  to shudder. The Doctor leaned forward and started to tap out

  a message. 'I'll keep it on "send later". But since you never

  know how the time streams flow...'

  'Who's it to?'

  'Somebody has to do it,' he said, grinning like a wicked

  schoolboy. 'I've always wanted to. Totally against the Laws

  of Time, physical, metaphysical, natural or supernatural.

  There's a Gilbert and Sullivan song in there somewhere. Turn

  tumpety-too.' He bent towards the old microphone. 'Here

  goes - Cling duroo. Cling duroo. Frank/Freddie Force, don't I

  know you? Tom Mix. Tom Mix, Oogalator, babies. No longer got

  the rabies. I love to mix, don't you? To them mean old Roogalator

  blues.. Ooo! Dark tides flowing up the wadi al gloo...' Covering the mike with his hand he turned and winked at her. 'Time

  Lords used to have to go before the Grey Council if they

  started talking to themselves like this. But it worked, didn't

  it, Amy Pond? That's the power of positive Paradox. Without