Until We Burn | Dr Who

Chapter Forty-Nine: Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness

One last trip.

I don't know how she managed to talk him into it. There is far more to Martha Jones than I could ever have guessed. And, after his moment of honesty back in that alley, I think he needs more time to live in the fantasy before he has to bring her back home.

"Where are we?" she asks, stepping onto the grassy bank beyond the Tardis.

The sea spreads out before us, smooth and sparkling. A few boats litter the horizon. Joining us, he inhales deeply. "Ah, smell that Atlantic breeze. Nice and cold, lovely! Martha, have you met my friend?"

A stone platform rises behind us, and further up to the tall figure of oxidised bronze, her robes pooling around her and a torch in her hand piercing the sky. My breath escapes me at the mere height of her. "Sancta Libertas!"

I have seen it before, many times. The company was different then. The memories of that lost time dampen my amazement somewhat.

"Is that— Oh my God, that's the Statue of Liberty!"

He can hardly contain his smugness at our reaction. "Gateway to the New World. 'Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.'"

"That's so brilliant," she marvels. "I've always wanted to go to New York — I mean, the real New York, not the New New New New New one."

He leads the way down the slope. The city peeks out, growing with each step we take, shining like it was built only yesterday. "Well, there's the genuine article. So good they named it twice. Mind you, it was New Amsterdam, originally. Harder to say twice — no wonder it didn't catch on... 'New Amsterdam, New Amsterdam'."

Smiling, I link our arms. "'It's a wonderful town'."

"Wonder what year it is. 'Cause look, the Empire State Building, it's not even finished yet," she points out.

Only now do I notice the scaffolding around the top, and how the spire hasn't even been started. It has a long way to go. The Doctor regards the sight with interest. "Work in progress. They've still got a couple of floors to go, and if I know my history that makes the date somewhere around..."

"November 1st, 1930."

"You're getting good at this." Frowning, he looks around only to see the newspaper in her hands, plucked from the ground.

She examines it with a deep curiosity I still haven't grown tired of seeing. "Nearly eighty years ago. It's funny, 'cause you see those old newsreels, all in black and white, like, it's so far away. But here we are. It's real. It's now!" Taking my other arm in hers, she beams up at me. "C'mon then, you! Where do you wanna go first?"

"Central Park," I decide in an instant. "Can never go wrong with a good park. Only been there about fifty times but there's always something new."

Our excitement fades at the sight of his darkened expression. He sighs and tilts the paper towards us. "I think our detour just got longer."

"'Hooverville Mystery Deepens'," she reads aloud. We share a confused glance. "What's Hooverville?"

—

The park is not quite as I remember it. Litter scatters the grass and the trees seem bare and cold in a way not even winter could cause. It's like the life has been sucked out of it. We walk along the path, looking out at the city that borders the thick, golden trees. "Herbert Hoover, thirty-first President of the
USA, came to power a year ago," the Doctor explains. "Up till then, New York was a boomtown, the Roaring Twenties. And then..."

"The Wall Street Crash, yeah? When was that, 1929?"

I frown. These are the parts of history I barely know anything about, simply passing facts brought up in my travels with Jack. I used to tune out these things when I worked for the Time Agency, not caring enough to know anything about Earth. It was only when I met the Doctor and found his refreshing outlook on the universe that I developed a passion for learning.