Chapter Twenty-Six, Part One: Weekend at Borges'Mature

“…as I was saying, sir… His Lordship asked me to give you this- it’s a device that allows you to travel through your personal timeline through presets. You are safely enveloped by the contained fractal algorithmic cage, so your current self remains here. You can project your mind back with this, to take care of things. As long as the failsafe is engaged. After you have performed the preset tasks in the allotted timeframes, it will return you here.” 

“Yes, yes, twit! Can you tell me what dates I need to address myself to?” 

Nemontiarla smiles, tossing her brown hair back in a shower of kempt curls as she hands the ring and the mask to him. “The failsafe,” she adds as he slips the gold ring on his finger and holds the mask to his face, “… is there for your protection. Don’t try to disable it. You can’t. Also, don’t take off the mask until you take off the mask.” 

He stares at her from behind the bear’s silver face. The flow of the carved hair fits perfectly against his cheeks, once he’s thinned his face a bit. Of course, only a Time Lord would notice the difference. A little raising of his hairline… some lengthening of his hair.. oh yes. A much better fit. Just like before, when he had shown Flamina… his eyes widen, stretching open like the yawn of a cat’s maw. 

“How did I know to do this then? It’s only been a few minutes since the Doctor left...”

The End

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