"All right, Doctor. It's later, and I want to know," I said. We were both back on board the
TARDIS. The Doctor was dancing around the console, exuberantly. I recognized it right away. It was Rumplestilsken again. It would have been pretty funny if I didn't understand, even a little bit, the danger behind such a thing. "Would you stop flailing and tell me please?"
TARDIS. The Doctor was dancing around the console, exuberantly. I recognized it right away. It was Rumplestilsken again. It would have been pretty funny if I didn't understand, even a little bit, the danger behind such a thing. "Would you stop flailing and tell me please?"
"What do you recall?"
"It's image soup," I said, disappointedly. "It's like giving me the keys to everything and then having them taken away. But I don't remember why it was important in the first place."
"Beleive me; it's for the best, Jessica. Human brains can't have all that swimming in their grey matter and survive." The shadow man tapped his head. "Limited hard drive. It's not your fault. It's only a fact of your biology."
"Garsenon."
"It's horrible. Are you sure you want to know?" He asked. Reaching over to the console, he held up the book given to him by the Vasha. It was a small book that was a little bigger than his hand. The cover appeared to be made of wood, and it didn't look like it had paper pages. "It's terrible. It's destructive." He wiggled it at me. "This book could change the universe, as you know it, forever. Paradoxes will unweave the fabric of space. Time corridors will shift. Rifts will be unlocked. Souls will be imperiled," he said, dramatically.
"Or it's an ancient alien's shopping list," I said, sardonically. "It isn't a real book. It has no paper pages. That is more like a tablet or a hard drive. A technologically advanced, Roman, wax tablet; an etch-a sketch. Plug it in and tell me what it says already."
He dropped his static arm in disappointment. "21st-century humans! It is getting harder and harder to impress you!" he scoffed. "Decades of sci-fi has made you blind to true genius. "
"Yes, it's called conditioned insensitivity," I replied. "Being a geek does have its drawbacks. Now, get on with it, already." The shadow man huffed. He turned to the console and pulled out a USB cord. I pointed at him. "HA! I knew it!"
"Shut up," he muttered and plugged in the device. It made a tinkling sound, and he opened it. The inside of the book opened up and projected 3-D, holographic images of gears and symbols. The Doctor reached up and played with the images and symbols as if they were real. "This doesn't make sense," he grumbled.
"Especially from my angle," I said. I was expecting words, audio, or a film sequence. "I thought the TARDIS translated stuff like that."
I took a deep breath. "If it looks insane to you, maybe I should leave the room. There are stories on Earth about ancient texts like that."
I laughed. "That's complete bag'o' hammers, Doctor. Sounds like you need Rosetta Stone."
"What?" he asked.
"If I did, I have forgotten it."
"The Rosetta Stone is in three languages?" he asked.
"Doctor? Really?" I swallowed my shock from the absent response. "Okay, the Rosetta Stone is a declaration made by Ptolemy the fifth, enacting the creation of a divine cult..."
"Oh! Oh!" He pointed at me, then abruptly turned to the images again. "The Pararoh's Stele! Written in Greek, Demotic, and Egyptian languages!" He paused for a moment. "I'm surprised that survived, considering...well..." He left off that statement and played with the images again. "If that is true, then I can discover the author of the text at the least."
"And how will you manage that?"
"Becuase like any written text, there is usually something to indicate who wrote it or who the text is about."
"You hope," I said.
"Well, Time-lords are funny like that. Each Timelord's name has a corresponding picture or symbol. Mine is a question mark."
I laughed at him. "So you're name is literally, Doctor Who 'question mark'!"
I stopped laughing because that made perfect sense, for all its absurdity. Then I had a thought. "Hey, if you had a device it would be a field azure, emblazoned charge question mark proper, argent! That is so funny!"
"Nope, you forgot affronte, regardant, sinister."
"What?"
"Yes."
"You're lying again," I accused. He wanted me distracted with he played with the images of the hologram. "Why don't you want me to see what you are doing? What can it hurt? I can't read it."
"Doctor, I'm an American. I don't have any queens."
"You are ridiculous. An emperor?" Imagine my shock as I looked down at the paper and saw the signature of Joshua Abraham Norton the First, Emperor of the United States, Protector of Mexico! "Is granted award of arms, this day August 13th, year of our Lord, 1862," I read aloud. "Feild azure, emblazoned charge question mark proper, argent, affronte, regardant sinister." I looked up at him and smiled. "Thought you said you didn't travel with Americans."
"Oh, I didn't. He couldn't leave the country. He was an Emperor! No, San Fransisco had an earthquake problem I had to fix."
"Yeah, I know. It escaped," he went back to the hologram.
"This is absurd. Joshua Norton was a madman, benevolent, but still looney."
I went back to the papers. "Grace Kelley, Caroline Astor, and Nan Kempner," I read aloud. "Okay, beggar man, I can see Grace Kelley, but Astor and Kempner weren't exactly monarchy."
"Not yet, I have to realign this set of...." he dropped his hands and stepped back from the hologram. "That can't be," he whispered.
"I think we both must admit to being so steeped in myth right now, that we could make a good cup of cosmic tea. Doctor, just say it."
His shadow static body turned towards me. "We have to go to Karn. I need to speak with the Hermit." I went silent. "This is the symbol of the Hanging Man."
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