The Haldenmor Fugue
This story was published in the Doctor Who Storybook 2010, with illustrations by Andy Walker. Thanks to the lovely people at Panini, I've got permission to post the text here, for free. Please don't repost, just link to this website if you want to share.
I've pasted the story from my final text copy, to save myself hours of formatting, so any grammatical errors are my fault and not the editor's.
Story notes: Because of the timing of this book (before the season 4 specials, David Tennant's final episodes), part of our brief was that the Doctor was travelling alone for a while, but we could pretty much do whatever we liked. I'd been researching place names for something else, and came across the remnants of an old town that never amounted to anything. I wondered what might have helped it get going - and then had the idea for the Doctor arriving in a city that shouldn't exist, due to some timey wimey shenanigans. But fixing things would mean all the people in the hundreds of years since would never be born - or would they? Would their ancestors have moved away? And the rest followed from that. Haldenmor isn't a real place name, I constructed it from name fragments, it basically means "great hill". Oh, and Carla isn't a reference to Clara, this was years before Clara ever appeared, it's just a coincidence.
Originally presented in The Doctor Who Storybook 2010. Reprinted with the kind permission of Panini UK.
The Haldenmor Fugue
By James Moran
"The trouble with travelling on your own for so long," said the Doctor, "Is that you end up talking to yourself a lot. Like now, I suppose."
The TARDIS lurched to one side alarmingly, and the Doctor held on to a lever to stop himself from falling. He raced around the central console, flicking switches, pulling levers, and hammering bits of it, until the lurching settled down. He sat in the chair, and wiped his forehead, exhausted.
"You also have to do all of the the work yourself. Blimey. Still, keeps me fit I suppose. All right, look, this is ridiculous - stop talking to yourself, right now. Right now!"
He stopped talking, but then couldn't bear the silence.
"I suppose thinking out loud isn't the same as talking to yourself, is it? No, course not. As long as you don't answer. Which I just did, but that doesn't count."
He stared at one of the screens, frowning.
"Now, that shouldn't be there, why's that there? Eh? I'll tell you why that's there. It's there... because something's gone wrong. Temporal fluctuations, spatial drift, and - something else."
He tapped at the keyboard, tightening the focus of the scan. He frowned again.
"No, that's all wrong, there's a whole set of timelines going off in completely the wrong direction. Somebody's messing about with time and causing trouble. And that's MY job..."
He yanked a lever, and ran over to the door. He looked back for a moment. He had got used to introducing people to new planets, new times, new aliens. Now that it was just him, the universe felt just a tiny bit less exciting.
"When you're showing someone around your home town, it always seems more fun," he murmured to himself. He shook it off, and fixed a big smile to his face. "Never mind that, let's have a look at you."
He flung open the doors, and stepped outside, where a large, modern Earth city awaited him. Skyscrapers gleamed in the sunshine, and birds sang in the small park that he'd landed in.
"Earth! Ah, still smells the same. The year 2180, eastern England, the great city of..." He tailed off. "Actually, I haven't got a clue. Excuse me!"
He stopped an elderly man walking his dog. "What city is this?"
The dog walker looked at him. "Haldenmor, of course. What else would it be?"
"I don't know, that's why I asked."
The old man leaned in close, sniffing.
"Are you drunk? Eh? At this time of the day?"
"Drunk? Course not, I just didn't know where I'd landed. That's all."
The old man shook his head, not convinced.
"Hmph. Youngsters."
"Actually, I'm older than you," said the Doctor. "I know, I don't look it. Want to know my secret? Moisturise, and drink lots of water."
The old man wandered off, muttering to himself. The Doctor smiled. "Now, where to?"
As if on cue, there were several loud screams from a nearby building. The Doctor grinned, and started running. "They're playing my song," he announced to nobody in particular. Then frowned yet again. "I really must stop talking to myself."
* * *
The Doctor ran into the reception area of the skyscraper, a task made more difficult by the amount of terrified people streaming out of it. Finally he made it through, and strode forward to the reception desk, which was abandoned.
"Hello?" he said. "Shop?"
No answer. Just then, a female security guard came walking around the corner, talking into her walkie talkie. She was in her mid thirties, serious, and looked like she could beat up dinosaurs with one of her eyebrows.
"Ground floor clear, let me know as soon as you've checked out the loading zone, then we can start getting everyone back in. Can I help you?"
The Doctor realised she meant him. "Oh! Sorry, thought you were - you know. The walkie talkie. Still using walkie talkies in 2180? Mind you, I suppose they're reliable, can't really argue with the technology. Well, you can, but it doesn't argue back, unless it's become self aware or something, and then you're in trouble. I'm the Doctor, by the way. Hello! What's your name?"
"Carla. Could you wait outside please?"
"Nice to meet you, Carla."
The Doctor stuck his hand out, and the security guard found herself shaking it without quite knowing why. The Doctor flashed the psychic paper at her.
"And I'd love to wait outside, but unfortunately for me, I'm the building inspector. Having some sort of trouble?"
Carla sighed.
"You could say that. All the fire alarms went off on the third floor, and everyone swears they saw ghosts coming through the walls. Which part of the Building Inspection Handbook would that come under, do you think?"
The Doctor thought for a moment. "That would be Chapter 28: Weird Stuff." He grinned, a grin so wide and dazzling, you couldn't help but be charmed by it. Unless you were Carla, who really wasn't in the mood today. She stared at him.
"You'll be wanting to come and have a look, then?"
The Doctor's grin faltered and disappeared. "Yeah, may as well, while I'm here. You enjoy your job, Carla?"
"Yes. Being a security guard is the pinnacle of human experience."
They walked over to the lifts together.
"Now now," said the Doctor. "Nothing wrong with an honest day's work."
"There you go, then."
They entered the lift in silence. As the lift brought them up, the Doctor tried again.
"So what do they do here, in this building?"
"It's an accountancy firm. They do accounts."
"Right. So no research laboratories, physics experimentation, anything like that?"
"No. They do accounts."
"Gotcha. Who do they do accounts for, anyone interesting, or famous?"
"I don't know. They don't let me go nosing through their confidential client lists, for some reason."
Silence again. The lift crawled towards the third floor.
"Not much for small talk, are you Carla?" said the Doctor.
"Not particularly. Whereas you seem unable to cope unless someone is talking. Usually you."
"True. But I am quite fascinating and entertaining, you must admit."
Carla glanced at him, but said nothing.
"Maybe not, then," said the Doctor.
Ding! The doors opened on to a large open plan office. The Doctor and Carla walked through it, looking around.
"Must have been a false alarm," said Carla. "I've shut down the fire alarms for this floor, we'll get them checked out."
"What about the reports that people saw ghosts?"
"I'll check the ghost detectors too. If any ghosts did come through here, they should have picked up something."
The Doctor nodded, then realised what she had said. "You don't have ghost detectors, do you?"
"No. I was being sarcastic. People were panicking, they imagined things. There's no such thing as ghosts."
"True. But there are lots of other things in this universe, some of which might look like ghosts. Too early to tell, though."
"Have you seen enough? I need to start getting everyone back in."
The Doctor opened his mouth to speak, but just before he could say anything, the light flickered in the room. One section of wall shimmered, and suddenly changed. Instead of a flat, white office wall, it was now a lumpy, earthen wall, with a flaming torch fastened to it. Part of the carpeting was now a dirty floor covered in sawdust. The two different environments were somehow merged together, overlapping.
"Oh, now that's interesting," said the Doctor. A spark from the flaming torch rose up, floated towards them, and landed on a sheet of paper on a nearby desk. The sheet of paper started burning where the spark had landed. The Doctor blew the flame out, and showed the burnt paper to Carla.
"Definitely not a ghost," he said.
Footsteps approached them, heavy, marching footsteps that made the ground shake. But there was nobody else to be seen in the room. Carla looked around, and drew her gun.
"Hold your horses there, Carla," said the Doctor. "Let's not jump to conclusions. We don't know if it's a threat."
Then, out of nowhere, a group of about twenty men marched through the office, appearing out of thin air, walking over the strange, sawdust-covered ground. They were carrying spears, round, wooden shields, and wore conical, hard leather helmets. They spotted the Doctor and Carla, and roared in anger. The men started running towards them, lowering their spears to attack.
"Well," said Carla, "How about now? Would you say this a threat or not?"
She aimed her gun at the approaching men. But just as they reached the edge of the sawdust and stepped forward on to the office carpeting, they vanished, as if they had slipped behind an invisible shield.
The footsteps kept on coming towards the Doctor and Carla, but went right past them, fading away gradually.
The wall containing the flaming torch shimmered again, and disappeared, going back to normal. Now it was just a plain office wall again.
The Doctor ran over to it, and felt around, double checking it with his sonic screwdriver.
"This isn't right," he muttered. "This isn't right at all. It just shouldn't be here. Why is it here?"
"What's going on?" asked Carla. "You're not a building inspector. So who are you?"
"Why'd you say I'm not a building inspector?"
"Because if you were, that would have made you run away, screaming."
"Good point. So why didn't you run away, screaming?"
"Because I'm brave. And I have a gun, they only had spears."
"Yeah, but there were twenty of them."
"I'm fast. Who are you?"
"I told you. I'm the Doctor. And no, I'm not a building inspector. But I knew something weird was going on here, and now I need to figure out what it is. I can fix this. Trust me."
Carla stared into the Doctor's face. Then nodded. "Fair enough. I need to get my building back and stop this from happening again. So I'm coming with you."
The Doctor hesitated. "Is there any way I can stop you doing that?"
Carla shook her head, and put away her gun. "No. But feel free to try, if it makes you feel better. I'll tell everyone you put up a good fight."
"That's fine, thanks. Come on."
"Where?"
"Well, I came here when I picked up traces of temporal fluctuation. It's all over this city, and if I narrow the search beam, I can pinpoint the location better."
He took out his sonic, and did a quick scan. "This building is a particularly hot spot. But there's another one fairly close by. Let's see what's going on."
"And what then? You can fix it?"
The Doctor hesitated. "Yes. And then everything will be back to normal. Come on!"
He hurried off, covering his brief moment of hesitation. But Carla had spotted it, and was worried. Something about this felt wrong to her. She trusted this mad stranger, but knew that he wasn't telling her everything. For now though, she'd just have to wait and see what happened.
* * *
The Doctor and Carla ran down the street, following the signal. They burst into a busy shopping centre, and looked around.
"What are we looking for?" asked Carla.
"Anything out of the ordinary," said the Doctor. "Like that!"
He pointed. A patch of sawdust had appeared on the ground, and was growing.
"It's happening again. It's changing the ground and anything it touches. Keep back!"
Suddenly the patch of new ground tripled in size, and enveloped one of the shops, completely transforming it into a large mud shack, with smoke coming out of a hole in the roof. Shoppers fled the shack in panic, some still holding the clothes they had picked out from the racks which were no longer there.
And then they heard the marching sound again. The Doctor waved his hands around at the shoppers, shouting at them.
"Run! Get out of here! Go!"
Most of them ignored him. Until the group of twenty armed warriors appeared. The warriors drew closer together, forming a fighting unit, and charged a group of shoppers. The Doctor ran over to help, and Carla was right there beside him. She went for her gun, but he stopped her.
"No! That's not how we do things. They're not our enemy, they're just confused and scared. They think we're the enemy. Don't hurt them."
Carla didn't seem too happy about it, but did as he said. They reached the warriors, and started shouting to distract them and get them away from the terrified shoppers.
"Hey! Hey! Over here! Come on, attack us instead, we'll be more fun!" yelled the Doctor.
"Get away from them!" shouted Carla. "Come on! Come on, we'll take you all on!"
"That's the spirit," said the Doctor. "Always expect to win."
"Oh, I would win," said Carla.
The warriors turned to face them.
"Right," said the Doctor. "Looks like you'll get to test that theory. Still, at least they're chasing us and not innocent shoppers."
"Stop talking, and run!"
The Doctor and Carla ran further into the now empty shopping centre, and the warriors kept coming.
"We need to get past them without getting stuck with the sharp end of those spears," said the Doctor. "Look for something we can defend ourselves with."
"I do have a perfectly good gun," said Carla.
"No, I told you, that's not how we do it."
"How about those then?"
She pointed at the nearest shop. The Doctor grinned. "Perfect!"
They disappeared inside the shop. The warriors approached steadily, lowering their shields to take a closer look. The leader stared at the shop window, which said "Sports Equipment: SALE!"
Then, with a war cry, the Doctor and Carla came running out of the shop towards them. They were covered in cricketing gear - shin pads, thigh pads, arm guards, chest pads, helmets with titanium grilles, gloves - and they were wielding cricket bats.
"Right," shouted the Doctor. "We'll bat first!"
He looked at Carla, nodded, and they charged straight for the warriors, keeping their heads down. The first few warriors tried to spear them, but were swiftly deflected with the bats and protective gear. Carla was slamming warriors aside, knocking them over with great enthusiasm. One more adventurous warrior drew a sword, and tried to fight it out. The Doctor raised his cricket bat, only to have it sliced in half by a sword.
"Oi!" he said. "That's not cricket!"
He ducked as the sword came back for another go, then managed to trip the warrior up and keep going. Carla faced down a warrior who was taking great swipes at her with a two-handed axe. The axe was so big, it slowed him down considerably - so Carla waited until he was on the downswing, and then kicked him, hard, sending him flying through the window of a sweet shop. A huge tray of pick and mix sweets came pouring out of the broken window, causing some of the other warriors to slip. The Doctor quickly grabbed a jelly baby before it touched the floor, popped it in his mouth, and brandished his broken cricket bat, ready to take on the next warrior. But then, with a shimmer, they all vanished, and the shopping centre was back to normal. Apart from the mess of broken glass and ruined shop windows.
"Right," said the Doctor, getting his breath back. "Nice bit of defensive work there. I think we can safely claim victory."
"So who are they?" asked Carla. "They're not ghosts. They're from the past, aren't they?"
"Yep. And I think I know what's going on. Where's the nearest library?"
* * *
The Doctor and Carla marched into the library, still dressed in their protective cricket gear. The Doctor waved cheerfully at the librarian, and headed for the History section.
"Now then, Haldenmor, let's have a look at you. Local history, there we go."
He pulled a large book down from the shelf, called "History of Haldenmor". He flipped through the pages, reading quickly. And stopped smiling.
"What's the matter?"
The Doctor slammed the book shut. "Just as I thought. Vikings."
"Vikings? Didn't look like Vikings. I thought they had those funny helmets with horns in them."
"Ah, that's a common misconception, they didn't all look like that. Some of them settled in the east of England, and set up communities. One of those, in around the year 900, was what would eventually be known as Haldenmor. Says here that the town became a dominant force in the area when they fought off 'demonic invaders' who came from 'magical towers of stone'. Does that sound familiar?"
He waited while Carla thought about it. "That means us," she said.
"Very good," said the Doctor.
"We're seeing them as ghosts, but they're seeing us in the same way. We know they're not supernatural, but of course they'd think we were ghosts or demons or something."
"Exactly. They're destined to defeat you, so it says in here. Which means lots of people here in the city are going to be killed by angry Vikings from the past. We need to stop it."
"How? We don't know what's causing it."
"No, but I've got a good idea where to start looking. You said there's no scientific research in your building. But there must be some nearby, some sort of experimental lab?"
Carla thought for a moment.
"There's the Theoretical Physics Research and Development Centre, just a few streets away."
"That sounds likely. Right then - take me to your scientists!"
* * *
As they walked through the city, the traffic screeched to a halt at a large intersection up ahead. The Doctor and Carla ran over to see what was happening.
"It's getting worse," said the Doctor. "And more frequent."
A Viking longship was sticking out the side of a building, as if it was part of the design. Several Vikings were inside it, shouting and throwing things at cars and passers by, as water dripped from the hull. The building creaked, taking the strain of the ship's sudden appearance and extra weight. Then, with a crunch, the ship came free of the building and tipped over, falling towards the ground. Several pedestrians and vehicles were directly underneath - but with a shimmer, the ship disappeared again, just before it hit the ground.
The Doctor looked at Carla, raising an eyebrow.
"We'd better hurry."
* * *
The Doctor and Carla strode into the main office of the Theoretical Physics Research and Development Centre. The Doctor held his psychic paper up.
"Now then! John Smith, Scientific Research Ombudsman, emergency surprise inspection... thingy. Who's in charge here?"
As the staff bustled around to find the boss, Carla whispered to the Doctor.
"When you showed that to me, it said you were a building inspector. How did you manage that?"
"Tricks of the trade, my dear Carla."
"And what is your trade, exactly?"
"Ooh, bit of this, bit of that. Hello! Are you the big cheese?"
A nervous man in his fifties stood in front of the doctor, continually trying to stop his glasses from sliding down his nose. "Er, I suppose, yes, I'm the managing director. Jerry Monroe. I wasn't expecting an inspection."
"Ah, well, if you were, it wouldn't be a surprise inspection, would it?"
"No, I suppose not. Where did you want to start?"
"Let's start with the research into time travel."
Monroe stared at the Doctor, shocked. He moved closer, and whispered.
"Nobody - I mean, nobody - knows about that."
"Neither did I, I just assumed. See, there's been quite a large build up of temporal energy and it's caused a teensy bit of a leak in time. That tells me that someone's trying to do something they shouldn't, and they haven't quite got there yet. I'm guessing it's at an early stage."
"Yes, it's all theoretical, but we have made quite a fascinating breakthrough - sorry, is there some sort of problem with it? It's all just numbers and words right now, it's hardly a danger to anyone."
The Doctor's face was grim. "That's where you're wrong. 'Just numbers and words'? They're the most dangerous things in the universe. I'll need to take a look."
* * *
In the cramped research office, the Doctor stared at a blackboard filled with a series of equations. He followed the calculations, muttering under his breath.
"Yeah, yeah, gotcha, that bit's slightly clumsy but it gets you there I suppose, right, you've solved that, good, allowed for the coefficient of linear expansion, and - oh, that's very nice..."
He took off his glasses and turned to beam at Monroe. "You are a clever lot! I mean, you won't get there for a while, but you've sussed it, essentially. Thing is, there's a few tiny bits that don't quite fit - nothing terrible, but when you start experimenting on apples and things in, oh, say five years, the temporal fluctuations will be a bit rougher than usual. And it'll cause a rip in space/time. Just a tiny one. But as it goes backwards, it gets bigger and bigger, until you start getting Vikings and longships appearing in the middle of the city."
"Why does it go backwards?" asked Monroe.
"Doesn't have to. Sometimes it goes forwards. Luck of the draw, really."
"Well, can't you tell us how to fix it, if it's such a problem?"
"Sorry. Not allowed to. That'd be me giving you secrets you wouldn't have worked out yourself. Someone else will figure it out eventually, just not you."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying, I need to get rid of all your research. This hole in space/time is going to get worse, and the Vikings from the tenth century will come through in force, attack this city, and lots of people will be killed. That's bad enough, but the hole will keep getting bigger, and that'll cause all sorts of bad stuff. I mean, really, really bad stuff. You don't even want to know, believe me."
"Well I'm sorry, but I won't allow it. I'm going to contact the office of the Ombudsman right now, this is outrageous. You can't stop perfectly valid research."
"You go and call who you like. I'll wait here."
Monroe stormed out of the office. The Doctor immediately picked up a duster and started wiping the board clean.
"Hey," said Carla. "You said you'd wait here."
"I am waiting here. But I didn't say I wouldn't get started." He grinned at Carla, and finished wiping the board. He went over to the computer on the desk, and inspected it.
"Right, it's all on here, with a link to the network backup, but I can get to that if I just do this..." He fiddled with the sonic, and the computer beeped, with a message: "Erase all files and folders: Are you sure? Y/N"
The Doctor stopped what he was doing, and turned to Carla. And now, he looked like he had the weight of the universe on his shoulders.
"Oh, Carla, I'm really, truly sorry. But this is goodbye."
Carla looked away, then spoke quietly. "It's okay. I figured it out while you were rambling on. You said the town became a dominant force when it defeated the 'demonic invaders', which was us. If you fix the hole, then they never come through and fight us. Which means the town never becomes a dominant force back in the tenth century. Which means it never becomes the city of Haldenmor today. This whole city, as it is right now, ceases to exist."
The Doctor nodded. "Pretty much. The city shouldn't be here. Right from the start it just felt wrong, like it was never meant to be."
"And what about everyone who lives here now?"
"Oh, the people who lived in the town back then would move away, settle somewhere else, so most of the people alive here would still be alive somewhere. Just not here. And they'll have different lives."
"Most of them? So I'll be born somewhere else? If I'm even born at all?"
"Yep.
"And I won't be a security guard?"
"No idea. You'll have grown up in a different place, with different experiences. Maybe you become a famous opera singer, or a writer, or an explorer. Thing is, I've only known you for a short time, but I can tell that whatever you end up doing, you'll be fantastic at it."
"If I'm even born at all."
"That's right."
The words hung in the air like toxic smoke. Carla had tears in her eyes, but refused to let them fall.
"This is what you do? You go around fixing things?"
"I try. Doesn't always end well."
"But you know what's right. I can tell that about you. You know what needs fixing."
"Yes."
"Suppose you'd better get on and fix this, then."
The Doctor nodded. "It was an absolute pleasure to meet you, Carla. And I wish we could have been friends, because you're so brilliant, and such a laugh - and so serious, blimey you're serious, but then that's partly why you're such a laugh. There's so many things I'd love to show you - even just to see the faces you'd pull."
"And you talk way, way too much."
The Doctor smiled. "Guilty."
"Today was fun," said Carla. "I mean, it was weird, and wrong, and silly. But it was really good fun."
The Doctor felt terrible. This time, there were no monsters to fight, no alien threats to stop, no villains to thwart - just some horribly bad luck that he couldn't do anything about. Carla was wonderful, and it would have been great to bring her along for some adventures. Especially the ones where angry aliens tried to kill him, she'd have been very handy for those. But when he thought about the things that had happened to some of his other travelling companions, maybe she was better off staying here and taking her chances. Even if it meant never being born.
"Well. I'd better finish this." He pointed at the blinking "Y/N" on the screen. Carla stood up.
"Promise me something," she said. "Promise me, that when it's over, and the city's gone, you'll have a look around for me, wherever I end up in the world. If I exist, I mean. See if I was born, if I'm alive. Just... see if I'm okay. And if I don't exist - remember me. Tell stories about me."
"I promise."
"Thank you. Now hurry up and fix it, before anything else goes wrong."
She smiled at him, such a tiny, fragile smile. And for the first time that day - probably the first time in her entire life - she looked scared.
The Doctor hit the "Y" key, and the files were erased.
And with a shimmer of light, the Doctor was suddenly standing alone in a field, the TARDIS a few hundred yards away. In the ground around him were the faint indentations of an old town. You'd never notice them if you weren't looking for them. But now, they were all that remained of the tenth century town that should have become Haldenmor.
The Doctor shouted at the sky, at the ground, at nobody in particular.
"Why can't I ever just leave a place the way I found it? Why can't things just turn out all right once in a while?? It's not fair."
He sat on the grass, clasping his head in his hands, and stayed there for a while. Finally, he got up and walked towards the TARDIS. Time to go somewhere else for a while, somewhere far away, somewhere there were no people, no aliens, no problems to solve, nothing. Just peace and quiet, and no heartbreak.
But first, he had a promise to keep.
* * *
It wasn't easy. There were months of searching through paper records of births and deaths, old family trees filled with inconsistencies, months of dead ends, false alarms, red herrings. In the end, he just went back to tenth century England, and followed every single person from the town through time to see where they ended up - if they got married, had kids, moved, everything. If the family line ended before 2180, he'd go back and start on the next person.
It took years.
But he'd made a promise, and was determined to see it through.
Eventually, he found her. Her ancestors had moved from England to Brazil in the late 1600s, which had thrown off his search somewhat. But he tracked her down. She had a different name, of course, in this timeline she was called Yarah, but it was definitely her. It was Carla. This version was a pilot and, as he had predicted, she was a fantastic one. The Doctor watched her getting ready for a flight, and couldn't stop himself grinning from ear to ear. She was okay. She was alive, and she was happy, and she was brilliant. Still very serious, of course, but some things you're just born with.
"Good on you, Carla," he whispered.
She caught a glimpse of him as she passed, and wondered why some stranger was grinning at her like an idiot. The Doctor waved, and headed off back to his TARDIS. He'd kept his promise, and could now go and take some time off, away from everyone.
He was so relieved to see her, in fact, that he decided to give her a present, the best present he could possibly think of: he stayed away from her.
But now and again, of course, he dropped in just to make sure she was okay. It was the least he could do for an old friend.
The End