My name is Arven, and I've made the biggest mistake of my life. And believe me, I have experience at making mistakes, but those are tales for another time. No, the biggest mistake I ever made was choosing to stop travelling with the Doctor. All of time and space, and I chose to stay in 21st century Cork. Although, to be fair, I had my reasons if you recall.
I was thrust into the Doctor's path by coincidence, as so many of his companions are. Together, we learned that my life had been manipulated by external forces, I was an unwitting and oblivious pawn in some cosmic game beyond my understanding. Kind of a buzzkill, if I'm honest. I had also learned that my city lay on a fault line. Not an earthquake inducing geographical fault line, but a cosmic, temporal, metaphysical teat in the fabric of reality. A chasm through which despicable evils from across the universe may enter our world.
I decided that I had best return to defend Cork from such extraterrestrial threats, should they appear, using my experience with the Doctor. Quite how I expected to do this, I never really thought about at the time, though I feel I was really looking for an excuse to return to my boring dull and safe life. The Doctor realised this too, so he did not force the issue, just dropped me home and continued on his merry way.
I soon realized the reality of my reality however. I couldn't tell anyone about my time fighting space pirates, or Daleks. Nobody would believe me. Nor could I return to my old life. My eyes had been opened to a broader world, and I couldn't just recork that bottle. The genie was released. So I found myself trudging through my daily routine, a subtle but noticeable divide forming between me and my friends. They didn't know what I was dealing with, how could they? I had to suffer in silence, unable to find solace or respite from my regrets. Don't feel too sad about me though, remember I'm writing this to explain how I formed Torchwood Cork, so there's a happy end. Eventually.
It had been three months since I had turned down the Doctor's offer. I had steadily become increasingly morose and withdrawn. Noticing this, my friends had organised an evening of fun in our student apartment, in an attempt to cheer me up. There were five of us in all. Dave, master of understatement and Captain. obvious. Susan, student of history and my secret crush. Myself, of course, along with Tony and Sarah. We were gathered in the combined kitchen/sitting room of my college flat, spread across two sofas arranged perpendicular to each other, across from the television. Me and Dave sat on one sofa, Sue and Sarah on the other, while Tony was on a stool between the two sofas. We circled a stained coffee tabke, covered with the remnants of a board game awaiting tidying. The conversation had turned to zombies, as was oddly frequent in our group.
"All I'm saying is, you'd be totally screwed in an apocalypse!" said Susan, directing her mock scorn at Dave.
"It'd be grand." he responded, unfazed.
"How do you propose we 'hold Tesco' exactly. It's a wide open ground floor building with extensive glass frontage. Not feasible."
"Ah, but you could use the shelves to block up weak points. Plus, tinned food for rations, and fresh food to plant a garden!"
"Yeah, but everyone will have the same idea, it'll be a bloodbath."
"How about a boat?" interjected Tony.
"Hmm, tricky to obtain but a floating fortress is appealing." said Susan.
"If you could make it self sufficient with a saline treatment system that is." added Sarah.
"Oh, an island base!" boomed Dave, excitedly.
"What about you Arven?" asked Susan. "What's your plan?"
I thought about her question for a moment. Why had I been singled out? Was I being too quiet in the conversation, lost in thoughts of time? I thought about my answer for a moment. Of course I had one lined up, I like being prepared for the impossible. That was one thing I learnt while travelling in the TARDIS. Be prepared.
"Well, firstly it's all about location." I began. "These apartments, there are three to a block, right. One on top of the other, accessed by a spiral stairway in a tower in front of each building."
"I think we know where you live, Arven." mocked Tony. Sarah followed up with a sharp jab to his ribs. I continued.
"The exterior door of the tower is electronically locked, so useless once the power is out. Similarly, the ground floor is too indefensible, the main windows too big and low to the ground. So we move everyone to the top floor, and place barricades on the stairs. Thus, our defenders can attack with a high ground advantage, in a single defensible point."
"What about food?" asked Dave.
"We survive on what we have in stock. I've got a shelf of tinned food in case of emergencies over there. We can send our most nimble on scouting runs to other apartments and shops. As for weapons, none of us have easy access to guns, but we do have a small cache of working bows and swords. I spend some time in MedRen displaying medieval weapons and cutting melons in half on open days."
"That does seem a detailed plan. I'd prefer a long handled weapon though. Better reach. Or maybe a machete." mused Tony.
"Or a katana!" said Dave.
"No!" I said, perhaps a bit to forcefully. "Useless, we don't have either of those. We need workable, practical solutions. Oh, and the word you're looking for is a pike!"
"Easy tiger, we're only having a laugh." Tony replied.
"See if you're laughing when the shit hits the fan!"
"But none of this is serious, zombies aren't real." Susan pleaded.
"Maybe not. But other things are."
"Calm down Arven." said Tony. "You're beginning to sound like a doomsday prepper."
I took a few deep breaths, and composed myself. I'd gone too far, taken a childish game and twisted it into a real situation. I was taking threats far too seriously, using zombies as a cover for my fears about the rift. Luckily, I was spared from responding as an episode of Parks & Rec came on the TV.
After a while, my guests began to disperse. As she was leaving, Susan pulled me aside. This always made my heart jump. I had feelings for her, and I was sure she had for me too. Unless I was misreading the signs, or over analysing everything. I was always too afraid to act on my feelings though, and risk losing her friendship. We were stuck in a perpetual loop of near misses.
"Arven, are you OK? Honestly." she asked, concerned.
"Absolutely. Never better." I brushed off her concerns, not wanting to admit to myself (let alone her) that I was far from alright. Even if I was honest, how would I explain my feelings of insignificance, my worthlessness, my regret over everything I've done, or didn't do... How could I risk her recoiling from me in horror at how messed up I obviously was. I kept it hidden. I had to. But each time I lied, I hid, I died just a little more inside.
Little did I know how much would change in a day....
No comments:
Post a Comment