Gallifrey - The Last Frontier

Foreword

The Editor

I paced in the library, heels clicking on the polished wooden floors. Agitated, I glanced from the bookshelves up at the spiraling staircase again.

He's always late, I assured myself. It didn't stop the worry from gnawing at my torso. It was all so wrong; we should be running, not confronting! Forgetting, not strengthening.

"Oh, curse the rules!" I spat. The blasphemy hung in the air as I stepped forward, sliding the book off the shelf.

"You? Curse rules?" The incredulous voice came from the balcony at the top of the staircase. I whirled around, skirt brushing against the dusty shelves. A tall, young-looking man stood above me, grinning. He skipped down the steps.

I'd missed his smile and laugh. A hundred years ago, I never would have said such a thing; he had annoyed me to no end. Now I would have given anything to hear them.

But something was missing. It was like biting into a chocolate only to find it was hollow.

"I did no- I would ne- oh, drat," I stammered.

He laughed. "Old friend." The Captain placed his hand on the book I clutched at my chest.

"Old friend," I murmured, relaxing. I relented the precious, atrocious volume, letting the Captain weigh it in his hand.

"We wrote a lot," he commented.

"There was a lot to write," I replied grimly. I didn't mean for it to sound so morbid.

"And a lot to read." And with that, the Captain opened the book that should have never existed.