Silence of the Fourteenth

Part Twenty-nine

Part Twenty-nine

Dashwood meet’s the Valeyard

                        As he ventured downwards towards the parking garage, the Doctor recalled his first encounter with Dashwood distinctly.  It was the year 2021, and no, there were no mass teleportation units ready to take you to your desired destination, no colonies on the moon, or armies of angry clones ready to conquer the world…yet.  In fact with a very few exceptions that particular year, like so many others passed with relatively little incident, at least for the human populace at large.  It was in Hyde Park; that famed staple of London geography where the Valeyard/Doctor engaged in a friendly conversation with a more aged and disillusioned Sir Arlington. 

                        He was sitting on a bench at the Speaker’s Corner on an absurdly warm spring day, all around the man there were fellow’s, ladies, and children, walking about in short pants, and other simple leisurewear appropriate for the current climate, except for Dash of course.  What had impressed me that day, the Doc thought, was Arlington’s particular garb.  He was dressed from neck to ankle in a finely tailored suit of herringbone wool; finely pressed, modestly accessorized, lightly perfumed with some such cologne, and completely pitch black.  He must have been sweltering in that costume, but rather than reduce himself to the state of the “common” rabble around him by peeling off what must have been layer after layer of sweat drenched wool, he simply sat there like a statue, a Weeping Angel in Hackett if you will.  Now there are only three types of people who would adorn themselves in such a contrary way, a man defying something, a man hiding something, or a man with a need to be seen…perhaps like myself in some respects, he was all three. 

                        Dashwood was currently listening to a protest staged by one Harold Lumic in response to the Governmental bans placed on cybernetic enhancements.  Lumic it seemed was a trifle…what was the word Abigail was so fond of using?  Peeved, yes peeved, that Parliament’s actions had lead to the liquidation of his father’s company; an industry that had done a great deal of charitable works on behalf of the countries amputees’, quadriplegics’, and the like.  I didn’t really pay attention, I never much cared for what any Lumic had to say, in this universe or another.  No my interest was in Dashwood solely, I had been searching for a Lieutenant now for sometime, one who could act with tact when necessary, and with absolute ruthlessness when required.  Of course I had my Kitelyn, but she was the well crafted image of the Valeyard’s power, his presence in absentis as it were.  No, what I required was someone who could act in the shadow’s where even I myself could not walk.  I needed a spy. 

                        “Bonus meridianus.”  I as the Valeyard had said, or perhaps will say one day.  “Operor vos volo nonnullus vexillum?”

                        “A good day to you too I’m sure.”  Said Arlington, without initially looking up at the gentleman speaking.  “And no, if I wanted company I would…”  He paused dumbfounded as he glanced to the wraith standing over him.  If Arl was dressed eccentrically, than I must have seemed a relic to him then, the Doctor reflected in his mind.  A Victorian crow, that’s what Adam eventually called me, what with my black topper with the red satin band, the crimson and black stripped waist coat complete with fob watch and hourglass dangling from the same golden chain, which gleamed almost as brightly as the shimmering Gallifreian script that blazed boldly across my cravat and the lining of my greatcoat, rather like a warning. At over six feet tall my black trousers pinstriped in like-red must have seemed more like stilts than a covering for my legs.  I towered over him, and smiled in that way I do, a smile that could rival a shark’s grimace, in some this particular grin creates a mild sort discomfort, in others abject fear.  Needless to say I don’t flash more than a lazy smirk these days.  He seemed nervous for a moment, but didn’t flinch; he boldly locked his human eyes with my alien ones.