Fight For Freedom |4| The Ascension

Chapter Forty Eight: The Wedding Of River Song

In his office in the Birmingham Senate, the Roman Emperor Winston Churchill was having his blood pressure taken by Malohkeh, a Silurian doctor.

"Not too many late nights in Gaul, I hope," Malohkeh was saying.

"Just the one," Winston admitted. "I had an argument with Cleopatra. Dreadful woman. Excellent dancer."

Malohkeh nodded knowingly. "I can tell from your blood pressure."

Winston frowned, looking at the clock on the mantelpiece. "What time do you have, doctor?"

Malohkeh checked his pocket watch. "Two minutes past five, Caesar."

"It's always two minutes past five," Winston realised. "Day or night, it's always two minutes past five in the afternoon. Why is that?"

"Because that is the time, Caesar," Malohkeh answered, looking totally unconcerned. He was more than used to this kind of philosophical questioning from the Emperor.

"And the date," Winston continued. "It's always the twenty-second of April. Does it not bother you?"

"The date and the time have always been the same, Caesar," Malohkeh pointed out. "Why should it start bothering me now?"

"I want to see the Soothsayer," Winston decided. "Where is she?"

Malohkeh sighed. "In the Tower, where you threw her the last time."

"Get her," Winston ordered.

A little while later, a woman with unruly dark brown hair in a toga was brought in, her wrists shackled together.

"Leave us." Winston waited until all his attendants had left the room before he addressed the bedraggled woman. "Tick tock goes the clock, as the old song says. But they don't, do they? The clocks never tick. Something has happened to time, that's what you say. What you never stop saying. All of history is happening at once. But what does that mean? What happened? Explain to me in terms that I can understand: what happened to time?"

The Soothsayer looked up, a black visor obscuring her eyes but not the broad smirk splitting her face. "A woman."

***

"Imagine you were dying," McKenzie mused, adjusted the stetson she wore as she strode through the dark spaceship. "Imagine you were afraid and a long way from home and in terrible pain. Just when you thought it couldn't get worse, you looked up and saw the face of the devil herself. Hello, Dalek." She grinned maliciously, lasering her way into the Dalek's casing.

"Emergency!" the Dalek screamed. "Emergency! Weapon systems disabled. Emergency!"

"Hush now," McKenzie crooned as she levered the head off of the Dalek and plugged a vortex manipulator into it. "I need some information from your data core. Everything the Daleks know about the Silence."

***

McKenzie swept into the intergalactic bar, wrinkling her nose as she stepped in a spilt drink. "Gideon Vandaleur," she requested, ignoring the whispers from all around. "Get him. Now."

The barman sneered, revealing several decaying teeth. "Who says he's here?"

The woman raised one eyebrow scathingly before dropping the Dalek's eyestalk onto the bar. Amidst the gasps and stares, she smirked. "I do."

***

McKenzie smiled at her knitting magazine when a cloaked figure sat down opposite her. "Father Gideon Vandaleur, former envoy of the Silence. My condolences."