The Silver Stream

Epilogue

Epilogue

The man sat down holding his freshly brought copy of the Daily Mail.  Interspersed between paragraphs were big pictures of the destruction!  Not normally his paper but he preferred the headline this time.  Big bold letters proclaiming: MISSING OXFORD PROFESSOR AMIDST OXFORD CITY CENTRE DESTRUCTION:

“It has been reported by Oxford University that Professor Hjalte Stream has disappeared amongst the Oxford Invasion known as the day of The Silver Stream, in his honour.  

Oxford City Centre was hit by these robots that are being called Cybermen for they look like men - It is unsure how Oxford is going to recover from this destruction.

UNIT, it is believed, have found that these Cybermen are the reason all these people have gone missing.  When we questioned further they replied no comment.  Just said that their Scientific Advisor was helping to clear the mess and offering help.  Our reporter asked if we could interview him.  

Head of UNIT Kate Stewart - daughter of Sir Alastair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart - said that Doctor John Smith is a rather shy man who wishes to just get on with it.  

Doctor Martha Jones-Smith (unrelated to Doctor John Smith) has confirmed the death toll to be as many as 300.  There were almost as many injured.  

Our camera’s caught a snap of Doctor John Smith, he tried to hide his face with a scarf as he walked past our camera’s.  All we have managed to find out is that he has a daughter called Nancy McShane (20) who seemed to be unwittingly at the very centre of all this - she is engaged to Luke Smith (20) - the son of a respected colleague Sarah-Jane Smith who sadly passed away two years ago.  

All we can say is, if he stopped this carnage from spilling over into other cities we can only raise our hats to him.

Families are gathering round the debris trying find their dead.

There shall be more as the story unfolds...”

The man smiled as he sipped his tea.  “Well done, Doctor,” he raised it up.

The doorbell rang and the man got up.  He answered it to Kate Stewart, his girlfriend.  He leaned in for a kiss which was warmly given.

“Tea?” he asked

“Yes please,” she sighed as she stepped inside.  “Been gardening?” seeing his muddy knees as she hooked her coat up.

“Someone’s got to water the plants!”

“Brian!” she laughed.

Brian was never happier... He was glad that his great grandchildren were safely in New York...

2

Dorothy had moved back in her old house this time with Luke and Nancy.  She was not letting either of them out of her sight.  Both of them had asked to work for A Charitable Earth as neither wished to go back to University - Dorothy was pleased.  The Doctor watched on from the doors of his TARDIS.

“Remember,” Dorothy said, “Doctor, you got a home here whenever you need it!”

The Doctor smiled.  “I shall be back Ace, don’t you worry about that!”

“No,” she said her eyes twinkling, “I am just worried what other chaos is going to come when you do!”

Before watching him and his TARDIS disappear...

3

Turlough was lost, unsure what to do now.  He did not expect Tegan to give up her cause and yet he had his own cause on Trion.  

“Turlough,” Tegan said when she was back at home in Australia.  “What do we do now?”

“I do not know?”

“That was a hypothetical question,” Tegan smiled as she took hold of his hand.  “I certainly do not intend on saying goodbye to you again!”

“But...” Tegan stopped his protest with a warm passionate kiss.  

“No buts... The Doctor shall come back.  We can try and fight each other’s causes together!”

Turlough smiled.  It was nice and warm here... besides he could do with a holiday... What better place to have a holiday than with the woman he now loved, and possibly, always did.

4

The Master found himself zapped from space onto slimy muddy ground.  With a mouthful of... yuck! he spat it out.  The scent of manure filled his nostrils. He wanted to throw up.

“Stop the coach!” a domineering female voice exclaimed.

The Master’s hearts leapt to his throat.  Can’t be...  And he was stuck in a prostrate position seemingly, the worst place he... Suddenly he found himself close to a luscious red hemline.  A pair of black high-heeled shoes.  Laced right up to the knee.  

“Well well,” it was a sneer that could match his own.  

The Master was frozen to the spot.  He wriggled his way out of the sodden ground enough to glance right up the voluptuous dresses and skirts to a tight red corset fastened around a rather slim waist that led to the elderly face of... “Oh no!”