Change for the Bitter
A short story by Steve Lake

Part of the Second Doctor Fiction collection

Jamie ducked the young man's drunken fist and jumped back, arms held out to ward off further blows. The chubby young man grinned evilly, belched and fished inside his wine-stained toga. Triumphantly, he flourished a jewelled dagger from within. Behind Jamie, Victoria screamed. The young man took a step forward, pale light from the oil lanterns glinting on the blade. Jamie held up a hand placatingly.

"Now just hold on here ..."

But the young man just laughed and thrust the dagger at Jamie. Jamie dodged back again, getting closer to the wall and losing more space to manoeuvre. He snatched up a wooden stool and waved it at the man.

"Stay back now ..."

But the man leapt forward again, and this time Jamie dodged to one side and aimed the stool at the man's head. It thudded heavily into the man's temple but didn't break, a testament to solid Roman craftmanship. With a horrible gurgle of agony the young man dropped to the floor like a rock. He clutched at the wound with both hands and writhed pitifully like a wounded insect on the floor for a moment, then lay very still. Jamie bent over and rolled the young man over, the hand covering the wound coming free, releasing a flood of blood down his pale face. Jamie swallowed. Victoria came over and covered her mouth, horrified.

"Oh Jamie, is he ...?"

"I don't know ... Doctor! Doctor!"

A crowd was starting to gather around the fight scene and through the centre of it pushed a small scruffy looking man bundled into a voluminous cloak. Tossing aside the bag of chemicals he'd been out to buy to repair the TARDIS with, he knelt beside the body for a moment and looked up grim-faced. Ashen faced, Jamie shook his head, shocked. "Oh no ... Doctor, I didnae mean this to happen ... he just wouldn't leave Victoria alone." The Doctor laid a consoling hand on his arm. Behind them, the crowd starting to gasp and mutter. Then someone cried out:

"He's dead! He's killed the Emperor's son."

***

Technician Tynus yawned and stretched back in his chair, not for the first time wishing it was more comfortable. Temporal monitoring was dull enough as it was, so why couldn't they make the office environment more stimulating? But that wasn't the Time Lord way, was it? Sometimes he wondered why he'd bothered to graduate at all.

A light began flashing on his console. He leaned over and punched a control. Data scrolled across a screen. He frowned, then hit his communicator button.

"Madam? We have a potential disruption in the Time Stream."

In a tiny antechamber across the room, Co-ordinator Vandra, an elegant but very bored looking middle-aged woman glanced up from her crochet and flicked the response switch. "Strength?" she sighed.

"Force 7."

That made her sit up straight and look not quite so bored. "Seven? Hmmm, it's been some time since we've had a seven. Where?"

"Three guesses."

She clicked her tongue irritably. The younger generation were showing an alarming propensity towards melodrama. "This isn't a quiz, Tynus. Give me the location."

"Earth. Where else?"

She sighed again and rubbed her forehead wearily. She might have known ... "Oh, of course. Time period?"

"Early to mid ancient. The period they call the Roman Empire."

"Cause?"

"Death of one Lucius Domitius, aka ..."

"Nero. Ah yes, one of the emperors as I recall. Not a good one at that; still, emperors seldom are. Well, he does die, Tynus. Everyone does in the end."

"Yes ma'am, but according to the readings he's just died in AD 53. Nero isn't due to die until AD 68."

"Hmmm, yes. A problem." She examined her crochet for a moment. "Any indications as to how and why this happened?"

"Computer suggests that a rogue TT element is involved."

"Hmmm ..." The woman picked at a loose thread. "One of ours?"

"Unknown." Silence. "Er, should I summon a repair team?"

There was an incredulous snort. "A repair team? I've been Head Monitor for 276 years, and do you know how many repair teams I've summoned in that time?"

"No, ma'am?"

There was a pause while she thought about it. "Well, not many. Tynus, you are new to this position, and therefore not quite so knowledgeable of these events. In most cases it is wiser to simply let these little problems sort themselves out."

But Tynus could not be put off. He scented action. "Ma'am, the disruption is growing in strength." He leaned over his readout and began eagerly to list its contents. "It's likely to cause some major problems to the Time Line. It says here with Nero dead, the Emperor Claudius is succeeded by his natural born son Brittanicus, whose succession results in the prolonging of the reign of the Julie-Claude dynasty -"

"Julio-Claudian," Vandra corrected gently.

"Which is going to have some pretty far-reaching implications on the development of human history. Computer says, it might even effect us." Silence. "Ma'am?"

There was a yawn, then: "Tynus, observe: this is only a potential disruption. There is still time for the rogue element to correct it. It usually happens."

"But this could be a disaster!"

"Technician Tynus," she said sternly, "do you know how much trouble it causes to summon a Repair Team? Do you know how many under-secretaries, secretaries, chairmen, and cardinals you have to go through? They would even have to contact the President. And you know his feelings on the matter of temporal interference. And then there's all that paperwork  No," she repeated, "let it lie. Be patient." She chuckled lightly. "Let's wait until we see the walls tumbling around us before activating the whistles and bells. Keep me informed of events, Tynus."

With that, she killed the connection.

Tynus uttered a strong Gallifreyan oath and thumped the desk. First bit of excitement in his 32 years here and does she show the remotest interest? No ...

***

"Leave me."

"Caesar?"

The Emperor Claudius hobbled clumsily forward and waved towards the door. "I s-said leave me! You too!" He waved at the woman standing by the Imperial physician's side.

The Royal physician straightened up from his patient and shot a look at the woman. It was a measure of how Claudius's authority had waned and how much his wife's had increased that he deferred to her rather than him. It made Claudius all the angrier.

The Lady Agrippina, the Emperor's wife and mother of the young man lying gravely ill on the bed, glared at her husband. "You're drunk! A disgrace, with your own son lying at death's door."

"My son? Bah ... your son! Get out, woman, before I really lose my temper!" He staggered forward, fist shaking with pent-up anger. Agrippina flinched: she'd never seen him so angry, and it scared her - badly.

"Very well, my dear ... but I shall be outside if you need me. Xenophon," she gestured to the physician, who bowed and followed Agrippina out.

Claudius waited until the door closed then turned to look at the young man on the bed. He had always had a sneaking suspicion - hope, even - that Nero's nocturnal escapades would one night turn out for the worst. The wound to the skull was a bad one, beyond even the Imperial medical staff. Yet ... He looked around. They were alone in the room, not even any of the guard were present. He shook his head and sighed wearily.

"Why now, of all times ... just as my plan was taking effect. Well, maybe it is for the best ..."

Claudius's foot struck a pillow which had fallen from the bed and he laboriously bent down to pick it up. He held it with both hands and looked down at Nero's pale, deathly face. A face he'd come to loathe. "A p-pillow shall be his sword ... well, if it was good enough for T-Tiberius ..."

Very slowly, he lowered the pillow towards the young man's face ...

"Murder, Tiberius Claudius? I would never have believed it of you."

Claudius swung round, dropping the pillow in guilty surprise. "Who's there? I g-gave orders to b-be left a-alone."

"You needn't bother with that stammer on my behalf, my friend." The Doctor stepped from the shadows, shaking his head reproachfully.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?"

"You don't recognise me, but we are old friends, you and I. I think it was some, ooh, 30 years ago? In the great library? You, I, and the great Livy used have such fascinating conversations about things. Though murder was never one of our topics."

"Oh really? Well, I certainly remember my times with Livy, but you I c-certainly don't know."

"Well, I looked a little different then. I have changed, for the better I think. Which is more, I think, than I can say for you in your present situation."

Claudius swung round to glare down at the young man. "If you say you know me, then you'll know that I have always had the interests of Rome at my heart. Of late, I will admit, that I have been failing in my duties. Especially in adopting this viper as my son and seriously contemplating allowing them to replace me with him as Emperor!" Claudius burst out laughing, rather hysterically, and the Doctor dashed across the room to quieten him.

"Pax, Caesar, pax! I know what you are planning, but is there any reason to let the rest of the household know?" He shot a warning glance in the direction of the door, where doubtless Agrippina had her ear pressed to the keyhole.

Claudius swung round to look at the Doctor. "You know?" he said incredulously. "But how?"

"I, like yourself, am a student of history, Caesar. Past, present - and future."

Claudius nodded slowly, gazing into the little mans' eyes, recognition filtering through the wine fumes misting his brain. He always had difficulty remembering faces, but eyes ... and here were a pair that one could never forget. "I r-remember ... you are the Doctor of science ... the man who claims to be from another time."

The Doctor bowed. "I am, and I believed I proved it the last time we met. I am so sorry I never got to say a proper farewell to your noble brother, Germanicus. He would have made a fine Emperor."

"Emperor? Pah! He would have restored the Republic, as I should have done ... but it is too late now, poor Rome ... destined to be in the thrall of these a-accursed Caesars!"

The Doctor gripped his arm. "Then you realise the folly of what you contemplate here ... you and I both know that Nero is destined to be Emperor. Killing him now would be a colossal mistake!"

Claudius lurched away from the Doctor. "Destiny! I'm tired of destiny, Doctor ... why can I not change things? Why can I not finish that - that creature off now, and install Brittanicus, my own flesh and blood, to throne? He would be ten times the ruler Nero would!"

The Doctor took Claudius firmly by the shoulders and looked him in the eye. "I am quite sure he would be, but what of the consequences to the future? Think carefully! You know that within a year of Nero dying he will be succeeded by a new generation of Emperors who will manage the Empire successfully for a considerable period of time! Isn't that what you are working towards? The future success of Rome?"

"Yes, but -"

"But nothing! If Brittanicus becomes Emperor in your place, who knows what may happen? There are still powerful forces within Rome -" and he nodded towards the door, "and outside that would work towards seizing the Empire for themselves. Time will show that you have made the right decision. Don't allow a moment of bitterness to alter it. You know that things will improve. I have shown you, though goodness knows I shouldn't have."

"Im-improve?" Claudius shook his head wearily. "Doctor, I have lost most of what little respect I have for my fellow man. Can I not, here and now, regain that respect by disposing of Nero?"

The Doctor shook his head sadly but firmly. "No, my friend. Respect can never be gained through murder. Nero himself shall find that out, as have many of your illustrious predecessors. Your reign has, by and large, been a just one. You have allowed yourself to be lead astray a few times, but then, who hasn't?" The Doctor raised an eyebrow and shrugged, as if to say, been there, done that.

Claudius regarded the Doctor levelly for a moment, then looked round at the boy lying on the bed. He sighed deeply, shoulders slumped with resignation. "Very well, my friend. We shall let nature take its course. Do what you must to save him. I shall not oppose."

The Doctor visibly relaxed. "Thank you, Caesar. You don't know how much this means to me, and to a young companion of mine."

"Was he the one that struck the blow?"

"Yes, he was."

Claudius grinned. "How I envy him! Would that I could ..." he shook his head. "Oh well ... I don't suppose this injury will moderate his behaviour?"

The Doctor had crossed to the bed and was applying some sophisticated looking machinery to Nero's head. "Well, he'll be more careful about what he gets up to on his little jaunts. He picked the wrong person to have a fight with. Jamie is very protective towards Victoria."

Claudius slumped onto a couch. "So no chance it will happen again?" he asked hopefully.

"None, I hope."

"Pity, pity ..." Claudius lay back. The quantity of wine and the strength of his outbursts had worn the old man out. He closed his eyes. "I hope history will remember me well. That, and the decision I made today."

The Doctor crossed to where Claudius lay and gently pressed his fingertips to Claudius's temples. "Sleep, Tiberius Claudius, sleep ... rest assured, the future is safe."

"But for whom?" muttered Claudius, before slipping into oblivion.

He did not see the dark frown that flickered briefly across the Doctor's face.

***

"Ma'am?"

"You have something to report, Technician Tynus?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"The hesitation in your voice suggests that all is as it should be regarding the Roman Empire."

"Yes, ma'am. The scale has returned to normal. Crisis has been averted."

Vandra raised her eyes heavenwards. Crisis indeed! That young man wouldn't know a crisis if it took him by the scruff of the neck and marched him round the Panopticon singing ribald drinking songs about Pandak the Original. "Splendid, Tynus. I knew it would. You'll find most of these little crises have a way of sorting themselves out." Especially the ones involving the Earth, she didn't add.

"Yes. Ma'am."

"Very good, Tynus. Log it and prepare a report for me."

"Yes Ma'am. In triplicate - again?"

"Is there any other way, Tynus?"

"No, Ma'am. Thank you, Ma'am."

"Thank you, Tynus."

Vandra switched the communicator off and returned to her crochet.

***

Tynus scowled at his communicator. Why was the woman always so insufferably right?

"A bit of change round here wouldn't go amiss, I reckon," he muttered bitterly.

With a heavy sigh, he opened a drawer and took out a writing pad and stylus, and began to write his report.

