The lion's rotting breath blew in Aveanomaitanirr's face. Screams from other sections of the arena filled the air, barely audible over the gleeful shots from the spectators.

"Hush, feline brother," Aveanomaitanirr crooned, wishing he had paid more attention in hypnosis lessons. "You don't want to eat me." Its eyes glazed over, shuffling past him back into the cage. Aveanomaitanirr slunk at its side, quickly sneaking out of the maze of the underworld and into the bright sunlight. Running up to a state of Julius Caser, Aveanomaitanirr pressed one side of the pedestal and stepped inside, leaving a confused passerby to wonder where it went.

Aveanomaitanirr sunk to the floor, leaning against the wall. "That was close. Almost too close." He wasn't even sure if Rhanassastarchor was following him, but the Time Lords might be. One more stop, just one…

Fifty Years, One Regeneration Later….

September 15, 1984

John Avery Whittaker took the palm-sized package from the delivery man and walked back into the kitchen. The brown padded envelope had no return address, only a Chicago postmark. He grabbed an envelope knife and sliced it open. A slip of paper fluttered out, with one sentence on a Universal Press notepad: We've kept this long enough.

The words barely pierced the grey fog surrounding him since Jenny's death almost a month ago. Why bother about anything now? And Jack's attempt to help had only made things worse. Not only had he lost his wife, but also his best friend.

He was about to toss the envelope in the trash when he felt a lump inside. He shook the envelope until something rolled out. A silver fob watch, engraved with concentric and criss-crossing circles, rolled across the wooden table. He picked it up and held it by his ear, listening for a rhythm. Instead, he heard a whisper.

Remember.

"Jenny?" But the voice was different: old, half-forgotten, heavy with age. He traced the flowing lines, moved as if by a half-remembered dream. In the hall, Jeremy's old cuckoo clock struck two. Maybe he should get some lunch from the fridge, but the ache in his chest couldn't be dulled by food.

Remember, the watch seemed to say.

"Remember what?" Whit stared into the distance. "I remember everything, Jenny. That's the problem." Without a definite act of will, his fingers closed around the clasp. "Except this," he looked down at the silver orb. "I don't even know if it works."

He opened the watch. Golden light sprang forth, wrapping him in a cloud thick and heavy as fog, yet brilliant as the full moon. Brief snatches of memory grabbed him by the throat.

Sight: a young child lying in a field of crimson grain under auburn skies.

Sound: vworp… wvorp…

Touch: the gentle vibration of a TARDIS control panel.

Smell: the rich aroma of Florana.

Taste: the initial bland flavor of a bar from the machine, before the enzymes kicked in.

And one word: GALLIFREY. The word threw him into a vivid scene, stronger than memory, richer than cream.

Euraiunoreyntæƾ yelped and fell to the floor.

"Oh, I've wanted to do that since we left Gallifrey at the beginning of this mission. The whole trip, you kept babbling on and on about technology and theories and Other knows what nonsense." Rhanassastarchor kicked the fallen body.

"What are you doing?" Aveanomaitanirr demanded. "The High Council will hear—"

Rhanassastarchor laughed, a low rumble like an approaching Dalek. "I don't think so. All three of you are exiled to Earth by order of Lord Chancellor Naludan. If you even reach it in this condition." He fired the staser again.

"Get down," Aveanomaitanirr cried.

The cloud of light faded, and Whit sank into a chair. "How did I forget? How could I forget it all?"

Someone knocked on the door. "Whit?" Tom Riley hollered. "Whit, are you home?"

He had come about the Fillmore Recreation Center. And from the sound of things, Tom had brought Dave Harley along too. Whit struggled to pull his thoughts away from time machines and stasers, back to the world of bricks and old things. Still holding the watch, he walked up and opened the door. "What do you want?"

"We're here about the rec center. Seeing as Jenny collapsed during the meeting, well—"

"What do you want?"

"Without Jenny's protesting, Glossman will probably win." Tom looked up at Whit. "Mighty sorry about your loss. She had a heart that was in the right place."

"I know how big her heart was. I also know that she couldn't say no to any ridiculous cause you people—" you humans, he nearly said, "wanted her to become involved in. That's what killed her."

"I don't think you're being very fair," Dave muttered.

"Fair? Fairness won't bring Jenny back. The people of Odyssey have taught me a very valuable lesson: nothing lasts forever. Maybe it's time they learned it themselves." He started to slam the door, but Tom caught it.

"Glossman wants to make money for the city, help us move into the future. Maybe I'm just a sentimental fool, but you don't build a road out of town by tearing up the road in." Tom nodded politely. "Come on, Dave, let's go."

Whit stared after them. Maybe it was time to get out of the house. Why not take a look at the rec center? It might just help him make up his mind.

See, it's just an old wreck. Let Glossman destroy it, it won't make any difference.

"Hey, mister, whatcha doing here?" A young girl with blond pigtails ran up to him.

"Just needed to think."

"This is a good place to play. Don't you like to play?" Her lips rolled into a pout. "Mommy told me they're going to tear this place down. I wish they wouldn't."

"Anywhere else you like to play? What about the mall; it has some nice arcades."

"Boring. You've seem one space alien, you've seen them all."

Her adult cynicism brought out a chuckle. You're seeing one right now, did you know that?

"Jenny, it's time to go home now." Someone called from across the room.

"What-what did she call you?"

"Jenny. That's my name."

Jenny…oh, Jenny, I know humans don't regenerate, but life goes on, all the same. "A beautiful name," he whispered.

"Bye Mister. Bye, old building." The girl waved at him as she ran off.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Whit closed his eyes.