"But doesn"t interfere?"
"Something like that. Most women are either terrified of me, or out for me money. You don"t find many happily married gangsters. Doesn"t go with the territory. Guess I"m married to the firm." Tommy looked at Sarah. "You ask a lot of questions.
Who are you really?"
"I told you Sarah Jane Smith."
"Oh I don"t doubt that. But I"m no mug. I"m good at reading people, Sarah. That"s what makes me the boss. I can tell when a man is lying or frightened or ready to die or ready to kill. I can inspire men, lead them to do things they"d never consider by themselves. I can get the best out of people and the worst."
Tommy stubbed out his cigarette. "But you"re different. Your att.i.tude, your confidence it"s like you know things a person shouldn"t have a right to know. Who are you really?"
"If I told you, you wouldn"t believe me."
"Try me. After what I seen in the last two days, I"d believe anything."
"Alright." Sarah got up and began pacing back and forth across the floor rug. "I"m not a waitress or a barmaid. I"m a journalist, a reporter I usually write for a magazine called Metropolitan Metropolitan."
"Never heard of it."
"I"m not surprised. It won"t be launched until 1967."
"Hang on, you"ve lost me."
Sarah stopped pacing and forced herself to trust Tommy could cope with the whole truth. "I"m from the future more than twenty years in the future. I"ve come here because of a mystery and a tragedy."
"Keep going. I don"t know if I believe a word of it, but keep going."
Father Simmons had been praying for hours. At long last he reached a decision. He would go beyond the walls of the church and try to help those in suffering. He would seek the truth outside as well as in. The priest fetched a long coat and scarf from the sacristy before venturing out into the night. He had only walked for a few moments when he heard the screaming.
"Help us! Somebody help us!"
Father Simmons began running towards the cries. He stumbled and fell, but picked himself up again and ran on. The screaming receded into the smog. Then it started once more, but now seemed to come from another direction. The priest ran towards the noise but it faded from hearing.
"I"ve got to stand still. The smog is playing tricks with the noise. I must concentrate with all my senses," Simmons told himself. He began a breathing exercise he had learnt in the seminary, taught to help eager students focus on their inner thoughts and prayers. He reached out with all his senses. Now the screams seemed more p.r.o.nounced. They were coming straight towards him!
Suddenly he was caught in the headlights of an oncoming van. The priest threw himself out of the way. As the vehicle rumbled past, he could hear screaming men, women and children trapped in the back of the police van. They cried out to him for help as they began disappearing into the smog.
Simmons ran after them, desperate to keep the tail lights in view. Just as they were fading away, the lights dipped downwards. The priest followed them and found himself in a tunnel. It descended below the city streets. The van was now far ahead of him, further down the tunnel. He ran after it, gasping for breath, his right side aching from muscle twinges.
Sarah explained to Tommy about the smog and how it coincided with thousands of deaths across London, especially in the East End. "There was a cover-up, a conspiracy to disguise what really happened here what is happening now."
"Let"s say I believe you," Tommy began, "and I"m not saying I do, but let"s say I believe you. What"s all this got to do with me?"
"I"m not sure, in all honesty. Your conflict with Callum seemed to be the trigger for events, but we didn"t know that when we came here."
"We? Who"s this we? You mean you"re not alone in this?"
Sarah bit her lip apprehensively. "No. I sometimes help a man who investigates and fights against menaces like this. He travels through time in a machine called the TARDIS."
"The what?"
"TARDIS. Look, the name isn"t important. What does matter is the machine could bring us here, to this time, to stop these creatures to stop the Xhinn."
"So who"s this mystery man?" Tommy"s eyes flashed with inspiration. "The Doctor! You came here with the Doctor!"
"Yes. How did you know?"
"The eyes. You can tell a lot by looking into a person"s eyes.
His were, well, different. And not many old-age watchmenders dare to take on the Ramsey Mob, let alone beat two of me best men!"
"I"m not sure the Doctor would like being called old, but you"re right he is a remarkable man."
Tommy was still puzzled. "But what"s it got to do with me?
How did you know to seek me out?" Sarah pulled the fateful photograph from her pocket. Tommy examined it with wonder.
"That"s St Luke"s in the background! What"s happened to it?" he asked, pointing at the subtle ripples in the building"s structure.
"Nothing yet."
Tommy handed the photograph back to her. "Do you know what"s going to happen?"
"No. That"s what is so frustrating. The events of what happened during the smog are never spoken about in the future.
It"s like the entire city decided to forget it ever happened. Will happen. Is happening! Ohhh!" Sarah sat down, frustrated by her inability to keep past, present and future separated.
Tommy had a final question, "Do you know what happens to me?" "You survive long enough to appear in this photograph."
"No, I mean afterwards."
Sarah shook her head. "I won"t be your fortune teller. I wouldn"t want anybody telling me what was going to happen in my life. I don"t think you do either."
Tommy pondered what she had said. "No, you"re probably right. I could live to a ripe old age, or get knocked down by a bus next Tuesday. Why spoil the surprise?" He smiled. "What will you do after all this?"
"Depends. If we succeed, I"ll go back to my own time with the Doctor. If we fail...Well, let"s not think about that."
"You could always stay here in 1952."
"I don"t belong here, Tommy. Life is very different in the future," she replied. "And no before you even ask I will not tell you how it"s different." He began to speak but she cut him off again. "And I will not tell you who wins the next twenty Grand Nationals either!" Sarah folded her arms to show her determination.
Tommy started laughing at her.
"What"s so funny?" Sarah demanded.
"I was just going to say that"s the first time you"ve called me Tommy!"
"Oh," she replied, a little embarra.s.sed.
"Still, if you could just tell me who wins next year"s Grand National, that would be a start..." he suggested with a twinkle in his eye.
"Don"t you dare!"
Father Simmons finally reached the end of the tunnel. The van had long since moved out of sight, but he could still hear the screaming of its unwilling pa.s.sengers. He followed the terrible noise through a series of wide corridors and chambers, before emerging into a vast room. Several empty vehicles stood by a high doorway. A being of light and darkness floated by the door, facing away from the priest.
Simmons could hear the people screaming for mercy beyond the high doorway. He ran towards it, shouting. "Let them out!
Let those poor people out!"
The Xhinn slowly rotated to face him, glaring malevolently with its hundred eyes. "Who dares?"
The high doorway slid sideways to reveal the death chamber.
Dozens of bodies were strewn about the floor, some still twitching as the last clouds of gas dissipated around them. Father Simmons tried dragging them out of the room but it was too late. They were all dead. He staggered out of the death chamber, choking on the poisonous fumes.
"Why? Why did you kill them?" he gasped.
The creature tilted its head, as if listening to another conversation. Nodding several times, it gestured at the priest.
Father Simmons felt a churning disorientation in his stomach.
white light surrounded him and he blinked out of existence, followed by the Xhinn.
Once they were gone, a long line of policemen shuffled forward, PC Hodge at the front of the queue. One by one, the slaves dragged the corpses out of the death chamber and on to the waiting conveyor belt.
Sarah was drinking a mug of hot cocoa that Tommy had made for her. They sat in the kitchen, enjoying the quiet of the house.
Everyone else had gone to bed.
"What will you do?" she asked. "Tomorrow, I mean what then?"
"The lads are coming in the morning, armed to the teeth.
Once we"re all a.s.sembled, we start taking back the streets."
"How?"
"Brute force, some native cunning the usual methods,"
Tommy replied, smiling.
"Your mother wants me to take her to St Luke"s for a special service. Father Simmons is trying to gather the community together."
"You go if you want, but you be careful. Me Mum can look after herself. She may not look it, but there"s a core of steel inside that little old lady."
"I don"t doubt it. She gave birth to you, didn"t she?"
"That"s enough of your cheek!" Tommy asked to see the photo again. "It"s weird this, like seeing a glimpse of the future."
Sarah finished the last of her cocoa. She rinsed the mug in the sink and dried her hands. "Well, goodnight Tommy. I"ll see you in the morning."
"Goodnight, Sarah. Sleep well."
She walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her bed.
Tommy almost called out after her but bit back the words. He could almost have been attracted to her in another life, at another time and place...
He stared down at the photograph until long after midnight.
In the TARDIS, the Doctor was staring with frustration at the bulky array of circuits, wires and switches he had a.s.sembled.
What he needed was a power source and a trigger mechanism.
He patted the pockets of his velvet smoking jacket. The long cylindrical shape of his sonic screwdriver was still inside. He pulled the life-saving gadget out. It had helped him escape many a fate worse than death. He activated its mechanism, sending a pulse of sonic energy towards the a.s.semblage. Lights and circuits inside it began to flicker into life, then faded away.
The Doctor smiled with satisfaction. He could jump-start the device with the sonic screwdriver. That meant he could arm it from a safe distance. But he still needed a power source.
The Doctor looked around him. An a.s.sortment of batteries and energy cells littered the floor of the console room, but none would be big enough to give the power necessary for the device.
There was only one thing for it.
He patted the central console gently. "Sorry old girl, but my need is greater than yours." The Doctor dropped to the floor and opened an inspection hatch below the many-sided console. "Try not to take it personally..."
Outside the TARDIS, a church clock chimed twelve, its bells ringing out dully. The smog choking London continued to thicken, becoming ever more toxic. The pea-souper was turning the city"s air into nerve gas...
Sunday, December 7, 1952 Father Simmons woke with a thumping headache. He felt like his insides had been removed, spun around several times and pulled back into his body. His whole being seemed to be dislocated, at odds with itself.
He opened his eyes and wondered if he had gone blind.
Darkness surrounded him, total and enveloping. He touched the floor beneath his feet but all around was nothingness, a void.
What was this place? Why had he been brought here? Then he remembered the room full of corpses and began to cry.
"You were right, Doctor there is a tragedy at work here. A murderous, foul tragedy being perpetrated against mankind." The darkness felt almost appropriate to the priest, now he thought about it. "I have been blind, just like the Doctor said. Blind to what"s been happening around me. Blind to everything but my own beliefs". Simmons looked up into the darkness. "My Saviour, my Saviour why have you forsaken me?"
"We have not forsaken you."