Excerpt #1

The Doctor was dying.

Trapped in a concrete darkness, unable to move a muscle, he began to drift in and out of consciousness. His emergency air supply wasn't going to last much longer.

He wondered if he would quickly regenerate five times while buried beneath the ground. It was a horrible thought: dying of suffocation five times over.

He was getting delirious. Old faces – friends and enemies alike – were coming to mind, and they were saying the dumbest things. The Master wanted to fly a kite with him. Something to do with the air he so desperately needed? He couldn't tell. He'd long ago learned to tune out whatever the Master was saying, anyway. Jo Grant was dancing with a Dalek, which sometimes became the Brigadier. Daleks and Brigadiers – yes, they were alike, in a strange, twisted sort of way. At least he could trust the Brigadier to care.

Then he was in a restaurant of some sort. The Grendler Bar and Grille, the sign read. It was a nice place – piano in the corner, low light, plush cushions. Very fancy.

He sat at the bar, feeling as if his clothes were out of place. The barstool seats were bright red leather. Plants adorned either end of the bar.

His koba friend sat on the next stool. The little animal had an eyepatch, and a bright grin on its face. "Get you something?" it asked.

"Yes, indeed," the Doctor replied. But he wasn't himself. He was his fourth self, the one with the long scarf and that appalling sense of humor, because he couldn't stand it if he wasn't the life of the party.

Great – a past regeneration. They were always lurking around the subconscious somewhere. They bubbled up in times like these.

Suddenly, it was his first self – the old grandfather figure – who was at the bar. "You there, young man," he said cheerfully. The bartender was a Terrian, in a white shirt and black vest. It was wiping glasses, its back turned to him. "I'd like a Double Moon Cross for myself, and a Sonic Screwdriver for my friend, here." But the Terrian did not turn around. It continued wiping its glass.

The voices of the others in the restaurant were getting louder, for some reason. The Doctor started to reach over and tug the bartender's sleeve, when suddenly the noise reached a deafening roar. He put his hands to his ears. "Barbara – take Susan and get her out of here, now!" he snapped. He looked up to see the bartender watching him curiously.

The voices receded to a murmur. They sounded like a billion voices whispering on the edge of sleep, voices he could never quite hear no matter how hard he tried to listen, and could never quite reach no matter how far he traveled.

But that didn't mean the voices couldn't reach him – if he asked.

They were trying to tell him something. What were they saying? How did he listen? What did he have to...feel?

"Connect with us," they seemed to be saying. "Connect with us again." They didn't use words. The Doctor could only feel the desire.

"When did I connect with you?" he felt back.

Memories came at him. Not his own; racial memories. "You came to us millennia ago," he felt them say. "Your body was different, your granddaughter was with you. We were becoming what we are today, but we were afraid. You calmed our fears, and helped us with the changes we were experiencing. You were happy for us. We did not agree with everything you said, but we respected your wisdom, and have always remembered you for it. We knew you when you landed. Your face was different, but we sensed the soul inside."

Excerpt #2

She looked him squarely in the eye. "Will you take us to New Pacifica? Please?"

He avoided her gaze, looking out at the land over her shoulder. "What did you mean when you told Ulysses he would one day understand about time travel?" he asked softly.

She hesitated, then found herself telling the Doctor about her experience with an adult Ulysses from the future, and how that gave her hope they would reach New Pacifica.

"But you won't take us there, will you?" she asked again.

"And deny you that journey? Would I really be doing you a favor?"

"Journeys are fine, but not journeys which are deadly."

"Any journey can be deadly."

She sighed. "We have already lost lives on this journey. We've lost some very fine people who didn't deserve to die, who never deserved to have any of this happen to them. What if by giving us a lift you saved more lives? What if you saved the life of my son?"

"What if I took you to New Pacifica and a tidal wave washed you all out to sea?"

"That's not an answer, and you know it."

"Devon, do I strike you as a malicious man, who would deny you aid?"

"No, which is why I can't understand why you're turning us down."

"I'm not turning you down, Devon. Believe me, I can't help you."

Devon's face cleared. "You know our future, don't you?"

The Doctor was silent for a moment. Then, "Yes. Yes, I do. After the Terrians reminded me when I'd been here before, I remembered more. And I can't tell you how I know, or how much, or how far in the future, or in what context I know. I just do. Some strands of the web of time have already crystallized along your path, Devon Adair, and if I tried to take you to New Pacifica now, I would not be able to. The TARDIS would end up on Mars, or 18th-century France, or Sirinus Minima, and you and the others would end up helping me fight Daleks and Cybermen and Terileptils trying to take over entire planets," – Devon let out a single laugh, despite herself – "and - and - and if you think you're lost and frustrated now, try spending three months with me! You'd be begging me to bring you right back here! We'd be able to go just about anywhere, any time...except New Pacifica, right now."

Devon smiled a wistful smile of acceptance, and nodded. She didn't pretend to understand all the Doctor was saying, but she knew she could trust him. If he couldn't get them to New Pacifica, no one could.

No one but themselves.

And she knew in that moment that the Doctor existed in a realm she could never understand. He was a wanderer in space and time, able to see the entire cosmos; he lived on a grand scale, overthrowing tyrants, saving planets, keeping invading armies at bay, and making sure little boys and girls all over the galaxy slept safe in their beds at night, because he was out there, doing his best to make sure the monsters couldn't reach them.

And maybe she was alive today because the Doctor had risked his life for the human race in some century long past. And even trapped and vulnerable on this new world, with strange aliens and penal colonists and ZEDs and Council agents, she felt better knowing he would be out there among the stars, fighting for her, maybe even dying for her.

Dying again and again.

"You won't forget us, will you?" she asked.

"Not for a thousand more years," he said with a smile, and she stepped forward and hugged him, hugged him close.

"And I envy you, Devon. This journey you're making, this family you found. In all my travels, I've witnessed it over and over again. But the biggest price I pay for my freedom is not having a family of my own."

"Well, you're always welcome here, and you know where to find us."

"Yes. Yes, I do."

She let him go, and squeezed his hand. He winked, just once and turned away. He walked to the TARDIS, his funny little police telephone box which was really a time machine. She followed him as everyone gathered around, shook hands, and said, "Thanks. Thanks for helping us out."

He said goodbye to Ulysses last of all. Strangely, he seemed more at peace with the Doctor's leaving than anyone, as if he knew it had to be. Devon wondered if her son now knew as much about time, through his Terrian link, as the Doctor did. She suspected it was so.

As the Doctor opened the TARDIS door, Uly asked, "Will we see you again?"

"Of course we'll see him again, Uly," Devon said, smiling down at her son. She looked up at the Doctor. "How else would he know what will happen to us if he hadn't met us before – in the future?"