WHEN YOU AWAKEN

NYSSA

I know you can’t hear me, Doctor, but I know you’re in there. Maybe there is a part of you that does hear me. Maybe if… I mean when you wake up, you’ll remember that I was here with you, and what I am saying. It’s important.

You didn’t know I could see you when you came looking for me. Algrin already had his hand over my mouth so tightly I could barely breathe but when I tried to call out to you he tightened his grip. “Nyssa!” you shouted, and I wanted to shush you so you wouldn’t be captured too. “If they’ve harmed a hair on her head….” you growled. A movement to your right caught your eye but it was your own reflection in the mirror. That is how I could see your impatience with yourself for being distracted; it was a two-way, and I was on the other side of it, trying to scream because as soon as you turned toward me, Velgrin came at you from behind and got his huge hands around your throat. Belgras followed and grabbed your legs. I saw you go limp and as they carried you off I feared the worst.

Algrin let go of me and locked me in that cold, bare room. It had no windows and only the one door. I couldn’t get out, but perhaps I could prevent him from getting back in, if only there was something I could use to jam the lock. There wasn’t so much as a speck of dust in the room. I chewed on my fingernails and managed to get enough scraps to jam it. Then I turned to that two-way. My boots were soft but they protected my feet as I kicked repeatedly, hoping no one could hear my efforts. When I felt it starting to give, I wrapped my hair around my eyes and held it in place with both hands, leapt, kicked and fell back amid a shower of glass and metal. The shrapnel cut my hands but not badly. Shaking it out of my hair I opened my eyes, picked up a long, thin shard and carefully climbed out into the larger room, where I’d seen you strangled. I suppose I could have escaped then, but there was no way I was leaving you behind.

I cautiously opened the door through which you’d been carried, and peered into a hallway that seemed to be empty. To the right was the door I’d just jammed, and beyond that another door, and each had a corresponding opposite door. The hallway ended in another door. To the left were more pairs of doors and I couldn’t even see the end of the hall in that direction. I turned right and tiptoed to the door at the end. I tested the doorknob; it turned quietly, so I slowly pushed the door open.

There you were, lying on a conference table, Belgras hovering over you, to what purpose I could not tell. She looked up but too late; I kicked her and she went down.

“Let’s get you out of here, Doctor,” I whispered, dropping the shard of glass, and you heard me; you were coming around and allowed me to sit you up. Then, as usual, you were ready to run, so we ran out of that room, down that hall, out into the big room, out of the mansion onto the broad floodlit marble stairway leading down to the dark circular driveway, which we crossed as far as the central patch of periwinkles and day lilies, where the TARDIS waited. We almost made it.

From behind the TARDIS rolled two Daleks, crushing the lilies. “Run!” you shouted, and we ran away from the TARDIS, not back up the marble stairs but alongside, toward the adjacent park. It was dark there and we couldn’t run for all the trees and shrubbery, but we stumbled through as quickly as we could. I fell twice and you helped me up both times. We never said a word; we were in too much of a hurry and out of breath besides.

The park was bordered on the other side by a stream and we ran right into it and waded until it became too deep. Instead of swimming across, we followed the stream. When we reached a narrow section, we did cross, and then we walked until daybreak.

We kept walking until we reached a town. There were Daleks on the High Street so we walked on, using back lanes. Daleks were all over the next town too, and the one after, but then you found that little shed behind someone’s kitchen garden, and we were so hungry that we stole some tomatoes. You got down on your hands and knees then and weeded the whole garden, and you wouldn’t even let me help; you said I had to stand guard. Well, that turned out to be a good arrangement because the old lady whose garden it was came out to see who we were and after I explained about the tomatoes, she invited us in, gave us a proper tea and offered us a bed for the night. It was a bed, too, so you slept on the faded rug at the foot of the bed. Mrs. Gorka was surprised to see you there when she came in to tell us dinner was ready, or so she said at breakfast; we had slept through dinner and through the night.

When you went off to scout the area for Daleks, Mrs. Gorka told me that your picture was displayed everywhere – the post office, phone boxes, shop windows – and there was a reward for turning you over to the Daleks. Of course, she added, no one in their right mind would do such a thing, even for a large reward. The Daleks were universally despised. “On the other hand,” she added, “everyone is terrified. The Daleks don’t mind killing anyone who annoys them. You just have to look at one sideways and you’re toast. So you can’t just go out and ask for help. They won’t turn you in but they won’t protect you either.”

“Why are you helping us?” I asked.

“They killed my Paul,” she said, simply. “Enough.”

“The immediate problem is twofold,” you said, upon returning to Mrs. Gorka’s cottage. “One is how to get back to the TARDIS without being caught. The other is how to get in. It will doubtless be even more heavily guarded now than it was before.”

“The big problem,” I told him, “is that they’re looking for you. Not us. You.”

“Well, you by association. But yes. Not that the Daleks need an excuse to conquer Earth. It’s on their bucket list, let’s call it.” He hesitated, thinking. “Well, a pepper pot list, right? But this time they’re doing it because they need me.”

“Whatever for?” Mrs. Gorka was astounded.

“Short version,” you decided. “I’m from a planet called Gallifrey.” She nodded. After being overrun by Daleks, earthlings are much more likely than they ever were before to accept the idea of other interplanetary visitors. “The Daleks are our enemies. They want to destroy Gallifrey. Legends abound that they will do just that. One legend is that someone called “the Hybrid” will destroy Gallifrey. The Daleks think that’s me.”

“You’re the Hybrid?” Mrs. Gorka backed up from you a little.

“I honestly don’t know. But they think I am and they want me to help them.”

“Will you?” She looked about to cry.

“No!” Your voice was soft but emphatic.

I offered, “The Doctor loves his planet.” You gave me that strange look you sometimes do; I knew you had mixed feelings about Gallifrey. I was just trying to reassure Mrs. Gorka. Besides, in spite of how they’ve always treated you, I know you do love your planet. That wasn’t the time to argue about it; now isn’t, either.