Until We Burn | Dr Who

Chapter Ninety-One: The Doctor's Wives

"Autodestruct in fifteen minutes."

Sprinting through the concrete basement, we follow Mr Lux and the growing, fiery glow coming from an opening in the ceiling ahead. We reach it and look up to see the cloud of orange light cased in metal rings. It sparks with electricity. "The data core! Over four thousand living minds, trapped inside."

River looks worriedly up at it. "Yeah, well, they won't be living much longer. We're running out of time."

She's right. We hurry on, through to a narrow room filled with giant data banks, all boxed in clear containers. A few information panels stand around a central pillar. The Doctor makes a beeline for them.

"Help me. Please, help me."

Alerted by the voice, I look around us. There is no one there. River heard it too. "Was that a child?"

The Doctor's frantic typing speeds up. "The computer's in sleep mode," he says, wincing as he hits another firewall. "I can't wake it up. I'm trying."

We both rush to the other panels. A jumble of code runs across it but I can't make sense of it. "These readings..."

"I know, you'd think it was... dreaming."

Behind me, Mr Lux huffs impatiently. He tosses his helmet aside and starts pulling off his gloves. "It is dreaming, of a normal life, and a lovely Dad, and of every book ever written."

"Computers don't dream."

The voice comes again, "Help me. Please, help me."

He opens up one of the container doors, a sad smile coming upon him. "No, but little girls do." Pulling a lever, he rushes through to the next room. We follow after.

This one is directly below the core. We can see it through the grated ceiling, growing brighter and hotter by the second. The room is full of cabling — a massive circuit. At its centre stands a Courtesy Node. It turns and we see the face of a child. Her eyes open, terrified. "Please help me. Please help me."

"Oh my God."

"It's the little girl, the girl we saw in the computer."

A strange sadness has overcome Mr Lux when he sees her. "In a way, she is the computer, the main command node. This is CAL."

The Doctor is outraged. "CAL is a child? A child hooked up to a mainframe? Why didn't you tell me this? I needed to know this!"

"Because she's family!" he yells back.

Silence falls. We stare at him, speechless.

"CAL — Charlotte Abigail Lux. My grandfather's youngest daughter. She was dying, so he built her a Library and put her living mind inside, with a moon to watch over her and all of human history to pass the time, any era to live in, any book to read. She loved books more than anything. He gave her them all. He asked only that she be left in peace. A secret, not a freakshow."

It's starting to come together. The Doctor sees her with more understanding now, becoming quiet. "So you weren't protecting a patent, you were protecting her."

Blinking back tears, Mr Lux approaches the girl, reaching to stroke her cheek, still rosy with youth. Too young for this. "It's only half a life... but it's forever."

"And then the shadows came."

She speaks again, "Shadows. I have to— I have to save. Have to save."

"And she saved them," the Doctor realises. "She saved everyone in the Library, folded them into her dreams and kept them safe."

Anita watches on, still hidden. "Then why didn't she tell us?"