Doctor Who and the Great Eclipse: Part 20/34

[gm_andy]

Trepidation

They, those outside the skiff, could see, through the open hanger doors, the position of the blue sun as it traced a path down toward twilight. Each day made the twilight shorter as the planets and suns became closer and closer to their gravitational lock. It was not enough of a shift for most humans to notice, this gradual lengthening of the day, but the Time Lord had noticed it almost right off the bat. The second day after the crash was four point two-eight-five standard minutes longer than the day before. The third day was looking to be four point two-eight-six minutes longer again.

By this alone the Doctor figured that they had something like two weeks, if they were lucky. Unless things sped up. And they might be speeding up. There was no way that the skiff would be done in that time, no matter what. However, he didn't need nearly as much sleep as the humans here and could keep working, from one project to the next, as needed. Already more time had passed than he was used to staying in one place for. He found himself having to stay busy to keep from worrying on the TARDIS key. Currently that impulse was pinging at him, somewhat annoyingly. He was up to his elbows in modifications to a computer and really didn't need the distraction. Nearby, the docking pilot was working on another set of systems, replacing the required wiring to carry a greater power supply. He carefully changed the settings on his sonic screwdriver and finished cobbling together this section of the computer.


Sounds of someone climbing the hull came to his attention. They must be working on repairing the wings. They'd found the partial bolt of Vectran at the crash site and had brought that back on the first trip, although it hadn't been until that morning that Richard pointed it out and suggested they use it to patch the wings. At least it would look like some progress was being made.

Carolyn patted about a bit, then sat up and snagged the roll of salvaged wire. She studied his feet a moment and then asked, “How's it going?”

He managed cheery, “Better than last time. Ended up staging a planetary breeding experiment and making the settlers think they had to worship a baby-eating god. At least that won't be a problem here.” Fry let out a laugh. He made a disgruntled hurmpth in the back of his throat, “Not kiddin', me. Ended up being a rather bad situation.”

“Oh,” she stifled the amusement. “But it worked out, didn't it?”

“Yeah, mostly.... Sorta,” he shifted to look at her, “Ah, maybe not. Riddick's violent like he is on account of it.”

Carolyn raised an eyebrow, “And maybe that's a good thing. Might need it to survive this.”

“Don't go getting all possessive of him Carolyn,” the Time Lord fixed her with a very intense look, “You wouldn't like the results.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, “Why?”

“Just don't,” he shuffled back inside the works of the computer leaving her to ponder his words.

It took her several long moments to start working again, then she said softly, “I'm observant enough to see, even in the amazingly short time you've been here, that you have staked claims on several people, folks you want to pull through this more than others. River. Simon. Rich. Oddly, you've been helping me, trying to rescue the rest of us, but we're not your main concern, are we?”

“Excuse me? I want to save all of you. Even Johns, and I personally think he needs to be turned over a knee and given a good thrashing,” the Doctor paused trying to figure out how to explain the impossible sounding situation as to why he had to stay here and crystallize Time and Reality, right now and right here. He hated that he couldn't alter it, the fact that he already saved one boy he shouldn't have, the fact that he'd have to let Death take the others to compensate her, hurt so much with the foreknowledge that sometimes he thought his chest would cave in. “It's just that - some things are cymose and can't be changed. Time itself is - flimsy - here, threatening to rip a hole in the fabric of reality. It can't be repaired overnight, and that's what I'm here to do.” He looked at the docking pilot to see if she believed him.

“What?”

Apparently not. “Carolyn, I'm a Time Lord. There's been a War, fought through Time and Space. A real war. The Wailing Wars were part of it. A great many other wars and battles were too. The aftermath of the War weakened Time, and altered timelines, allowing people to make choices that they wouldn't have made otherwise. Simon and River and - Jack - shouldn't have gotten on this ship. They don't belong here. That's just the way it is, and now I have to fix it.”

She raised an eyebrow, “And me?”

He looked at her, “Should have taken that captain's position you turned down. So, yeah, you shouldn't be here either. But then, none of the others would be alive if you weren't, so I can't begrudge you that.”

“Are you like,” she paused, how to ask this without pissing him off? “from Quintessa?”

That got a bitter laugh, “No. I'm not human. Not even a 'elemental' offshoot. From a planet that never existed, Gallifrey, me. Last one of my kind,” It was true too, even with finding Simon and River, even with finding Amadak, he was the last trained Time Lord. Susan hadn't been exposed to the Vortex unfiltered because the Schism hadn't been created yet when she'd been born. Even though the TARDIS had changed her to survive time travel and she was powerful, as were those descended from her, without additional genetic alterations and additions they would never be Time Lords either. Amadak had come from a line of solders, not time lords. The Redloom had never produced anyone before that was intelligent enough to become a Lord of Time, before Amadak's birth. Although the Doctor mentored the half-Gallifreyan as one, pushed for his acceptance, the Time War occurred before he'd been considered by any academy for admittance. They'd served together as a team on his TARDIS until the very last battle... “Ain't you lucky?”

She gave him an “Oh,” again and nearly tossed herself back into her work. “Yeah, I suppose I'm very lucky.”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The Vectran from the crash ship hopefully was enough to patch the wings of the skiff with. Neither Richard nor Abu were fully sure of it. There was not really room for error here, either. The holy man, robes flapping in the hot breeze filtering in through the open door, scaled the small craft and began the process by stripping off the old torn fabric. As he worked, he and his pilgrims sung in Arabic about doing God’s work and reaping the rewards of their service. First there was a voice above then the chorus came from below. Richard listened to the song and anticipated the next line, having learned Arabic long ago. Not that he'd ever brag about it or anything. He moved the last bit of planking to serve as a tabletop and settled it on the barrels that will function as legs. He indicated to Hassan and Suleiman to put the heavy bolt of cloth down now. He knew that inside the skiff, Fry and the Doctor were replacing the computer with more advanced parts off the Hunter-Gratzner. He had no illusions that the job was simple or easy. He imagined that they were struggling with it, trying to get the parts to connect and communicate. He didn't envy them, being inside that closed, hot space of the Skiff.

Although... the thought of the Doctor in there with the pilot made his hackles rise a bit. He felt slightly concerned that she'd move into what he viewed as his turf, trying to gain the Doctor's attentions. There was no indication that he had the right to make such a claim, but he couldn't help that he wanted to. Richard made a face and angrily flipped the bolt open. It made a rapid thump-thump-thump as it domino-ed its way down the makeshift worktable. Why was he so pissed off? It wasn't like Fry and the Doctor were actually doing anything more than working in there. Even if they were quite physically close to each other. He glanced up at the wing struts, eyed the bolt and forced himself to not groan. This was going to be very close. He’d a feeling in his gut that he needed to be very precise about the sizes of the trim. Because of that Richard made very accurate, straight cuts. His blade, returned to him by the Doctor after some secret threshold was passed, cut cleanly through the heavy black fabric. He maintained a straight line as he pulled it across the dark expanse nice and steady. As the trim came off, the young pilgrim chattered a thanks, collected it up, and scampered up the side of the craft. Hassan nimbly crossed the struts to hand the first section of wing fabric off to Abu.

The holy man switched from his blade to a heavy needle and thread and proceeded to stitch the fabric into place. Hassan could not leave until he called for Ali and Jack to come up and stretch the cloth tight, “Ali, Jack! Come. We must all help!” Jack and Ali materialized out of one of the other buildings and scrambled up the skiff. Once the two young boys were up with Imam, Hassan turned his attention to carrying the material up as it was needed. Three sections in, Suleiman was called away by the art dealer who can't seem to do anything heavy on his own because of breathing difficulties.

He headed off into the inner area of the encampment, leaving Hassan to carry the pieces up to the waiting Imam. Rich knew that in a couple of hours he’d have to return to the filter the Doctor set up to view the planets with and take an hour’s worth of measurements. In spite the assurance that he’d gotten that they have at least a week’s worth of double sunrises left, the con felt like they were nearly out of time already.

River watched the process, stepping in to hold the end of the bolt as Rich found himself at the end of it. “I hope this is enough,” he mumbled. Like everything else it seemed that there was barely what they needed. This was cutting it close. He calculated the two triangular areas of the wing tips and looked at the last bit of trim.

“It will make her fly,” River assured him.

Somehow that made it good enough. She snagged the fabric and flipped it over to show him how to get two triangles large enough and he nods at the motion she made indicating the direction of the cut. “Father, I’m going to slice this last piece diagonal for the tips, otherwise you won’t have enough,” Riddick called.

“It would seem that we are fortunate that you can cut straight, Mr Riddick, ” the holy man loudly said back. Yes, it did appear so, but the ex-ranger knew that his fortune never stayed good for long. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. It’d be any time now.

Once the part of the job he could do was done, the bronze skinned man switched his attention to giving himself a shave while he kept a watch on the position of the blue star and wondered how long it was going to be before they headed off on another trip to the crash site. He also tried very hard to keep his mind off what the Doctor and Fry might be doing inside the Skiff.

It was difficult to not imagine what they might be doing in there. And yet, he reminded himself that the Doctor had not acted over interested in Fry. She'd not acted overly interested in the Doctor, or anyone for that matter, being very focused on survival. Likely that was not about to change. He wondered where Billy had gotten off to. Seemed like the man was spending a very large portion of his time missing. Simon stepped out of the hanger into the sunlight and frowned, “I've set up an area stocked with personal grooming supplies. Why are you using engine grease?”

“'Cuz there's lots of it? This is what I'm used to. What? You worried I'm gonna cut myself?” Richard said as he smoothly used his newly sharpened shiv to remove hair and grease.

The Doc-kid moved over to him and settled down, “You are not used to having folks think about your well-being, are you?” Simon got a head shake for his trouble. He paused and waited for the blade to go from scraping against the waste container to shaving again, “Well, you've managed to get my sister to trust you, and that means a great deal to me. She doesn't reach out to folks normally.”

“She's a special person, ain't she, your River. Sort of perceptive in ways that most others think of as crazy. I suppose you know, just a shy bit protective of the two of you, although I don't know why. Maybe it was the fact that you pulled an attacker off me... I never had anyone do that before, Doc.”

Simon smiled, “Get used to it, Richard. My sister likes you. Trusts you. In my way of thinking that makes you nearly family.” He stood up, “And besides, the Doctor ordered me to help out before she blinded you. I couldn't not help. He needs you, too. Says you're vital to us making it out of here.” The dark-headed young man walked back inside leaving the con deep in thought. It was only when Fry and the Time Lord to emerged from the skiff an hour later that he snapped out of it. The Doctor and the docking pilot set off across the landing strip, after the alien fixed Richard with a rather mysterious expression. Stunned by everything happening the con did not move.

Shortly thereafter the wispy River materialized at his elbow and took his hand in hers. She didn't say anything, but then the tug on his arm was enough to get him to his feet. He expected her to let go, but she kept a firm grip on his larger hand and lead him to the cobbled together filter. Time to take more readings, he realized. The work had been finished on the wings for some time, and Abu, his pilgrims and Jack had been studying over the job while they drank water. Seeing River holding Richard's hand and leading him across the landing strip was enough to make them all follow. The art dealer spotted the group and emerged from inside, “What is going on?”

“I do not know, Mr. Ogilvie. Perhaps you should join us in finding out?” Abu answered. The art dealer made a face and proceeded to tag along.

Everyone but the marshal gathered around the strange pieced together device, most back far enough away to not interfere with whatever was going to happen. Glancing at the setting blue sun revealed nothing unusual to the naked eye, but the filter showed the shadowy edge of the gas giant’s rings hovering near the point of sunrise, just like it had the sunset before. The Doctor stared at the image with a frown.

“One hundred and sixty-eight point eight-two degrees,” Riddick said as the blue sun was not quite down yet. “Off-set by one point nine-seven degrees from due sunrise.” He was not sure why the readings were important, other than the fact that the suns were approaching the balance point of the horizon. He calculated the movement off the planet off the fake axis on the filter and noticed that it was creeping forward toward the sun as the sun shifted toward it as well. He shivered. “Minus six point five-three-one off center.”

Johns walked up from another direction, curious because everyone else was there. He heard Riddick babble off some numbers and then the strange girl reply, “That is point ought-seven closer than the last readings.” She did not need to look at the data, although she noted down the numbers in neat rows with a frown. “Speeding up?” She'd need to do some advanced calculations to tell. River guessed that Lei-yu knew just by the figures.

The silence from the others was smothering. “Possible,” finally the Doctor cut through it, “Twenty-eight sunrises, give or take. Fourteen days.” The announcement seemed to jolt folks back into movement. Fidgeting at the least. The information made the impending nightfall that much more real. They knew exactly how much time they had, now.

‘So that’s what this contraption is,’ thought the redhead, ‘Ingenious, really.’ But the news wasn’t all that welcome to him. Fry raked a hand through her hair, “You sure?” She acted like panic was right around the corner. It built up inside her enough that something would have to give.

The Doctor put a hand on her shoulder to steady her, “Or less.” Richard fought back the urge to growl and snag the two of them apart from each other. He had no right, he knew this. But he didn't like the fact that the Doctor was touching Fry, innocent though it might be. River was one thing and even that made him jealous. The Time Lord fixed him with a discrete warning expression and Rich made sure his face stayed carefully blank. They had to talk about this before he went off on someone. “If it continues to speed up we could be looking at it happening in thirteen and a half days,” the odd fellow said with a frown, just as much over the time and the calculations as the change in chemical signals he was picking up from Amadak. 'Possessive much?' he thought to the other man, by way of rebuke. The sensation lessened enough to avoid slaughter of innocents. The Doctor cursed Romana's thoughtless elimination of the blocks he'd so carefully placed on the Bond.

Carolyn took a deep hit off her breather and gave the alien a ‘curse you’ look that was clearly not personal, “Better get back to work on the computer then. I need to run the sys-check on the nav program and see if it is malfunctioning or not.”

“Do the Hull integrity test first.” The Doctor let go of her, “If that is passed then we'll deal with the next issue.” Fry nodded and walked back to the hanger. He then looked at the others, “We should try to locate the other cargo bays, feel like a scouting mission back to the crash?”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Johns found himself, once again, at the crash site, or a little past it. It was twilight. Although the Doctor mentioned the need, it had been Imam who suggested nearly straight away that they take a trip out here while it was cooler. The marshal had agreed, feeling the sudden need to be doing something. The fact that the Doctor had given Paris some tools and asked them to locate, or at least look for additional cargo bays was just another oddity in an already surreal situation.

So out he gone, with Hassan, Suleiman, Abu, and Paris. The pilgrims were finishing up the salvage of the one cargo bay, removing the lights and any small storage containers that might be useful back at the hanger. He was up top the hull with not only his scope, but several other odd tools that the Doctor had cobbled together, trying to spot the other large pieces of the crash ship. Paris has set up survey tools and was actually using them. Looked like the art dealer was given some professional training in a previous life. If they could find the next cargo bay then they were to pull lights from it and haul anything else they think might be useful.

Below, Imam and his older pilgrims managed to get one of the storage crates out the door because they rigged some axles and wheels to it. Once the noise of them congratulating themselves died down, Johns turned his attention back to his scouting. It was past the horizon, at the very least, that next cargo bay. But there's something off in the distance, down the crash scar. It looked like a sandstorm brewing. “Are we about done?” he called down.

“See anything?” Ogilvie asked by way of a response.

“No cargo bay. But there’s a sandstorm off in the distance, and I don’t fancy being caught out in it.”

“Well, that will disappoint, I’m sure. But better to be safe than sorry. Let’s head back to the settlement and I’ll see if there’s a surviving record of the flight data on the computer core. I might be able to triangulate the location of the other cargo bays from that easier anyhow.”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Carolyn settled into the charcoal colored pilot’s chair. The computer and various monitors were fixed but there was still a great deal of open panels and wires about. Following the Doctor’s suggestion, she flipped the diagnostic program over to check the skiff’s hull for holes. Behind her the hatch closed with a hydraulic hiss and the existing life support system kicked in. That was a good sign. It looked like the Frankensteined computer was working without errors, too. Of course the Doctor had tinkered a bit with it and promised that it would be problem free. She scanned the screen off to her left where it read, “HULL INTEGRITY TEST”. The outline of the ship slowly turned from red to yellow to green as the sensors verified that there were no breaches. Fry turned and checked the rising pressure gauges. So far so good.

“Noticed that you’ve not argued for full power hookup…”

Carolyn jumped in her skin and whirled back to look at the speaker. “Oh, God... you startled me,” she told him with a laugh. His attitude did not relax. She put on a business-like face, matching his seriousness. The goggled man was scanning the inside of the skiff with a very disgruntled air. “Don’t want to overload the circuits,” she replied, feeling calm now. “There’s still a lot to replace and the skiff is wired for one use.”

He studied her a moment, “I've been meaning to catch up with you. Alone and unrestrained. Got some concerns, see?” She managed a smile at him and nodded, feeling less fearful than she should, likely. “How many Cryo-lockers were you thinking would fit?”

“Ten,” she answered, “If stripped to bare bones cryo-systems with a shared gas atmo. Providing this skiff is totally airtight.”

The ex-ranger shakes his head, “As coffins, maybe. Those old things are quite bulky. Even stripped down. You gotta have space for the drug canisters, the extra power cells, and the monitoring system. Might fit eight, if you are lucky. Seven's more realistic.”

Fry reached back to tuck a set of dangling wires out of the way. “Kinda afraid of that myself, actually. Looking at the lockers, I’m thinking even seven might be a squeeze.”

“And you’re putting off a check on the main drive? Shouldn’t that have been a necessary inspection near first thing?” Riddick leaned against the sidewall, near the back of the skiff and eyed her over, “Unless -- Billy told you the particulars of my last escape.”

“We have a few days yet, and the cryo should be hooked up before we try to channel power into the engines.” The blond turned away and looked at the readings, “But Johns did say somethin’ about that. A quick-and-ugly somethin’, actually.”

Riddick was surprised by the fact that the docking pilot took her eyes off him. He was sure that her lack of fear before was because he was chained up. But maybe not. He walked heavy as he approached from behind her to deliberately let her know he’s getting closer. She kept working, acting like he’s anyone else that might be trapped in here with her. It scattered his mind and shifted his perception. He was not sure how figure her out, “An' now you're worried about a repeat of history?”

“Johns is.”

She felt the weight of his body tip her chair as he leaned on it, “I asked what you thought.”

She swallowed, “Why don’t you sit down, huh? So we can have this conversation while I’m working instead of me wonderin’ if the badge is right about you the entire time.”

Fry can feel him quirk an eyebrow at her back, as if that reply was not the one he was expecting. He glanced over her shoulder at the readings and watched the cabin pressure gauge as the numbers climb. “I remember the look on your face, Carolyn. That sense of innocence and acceptance, of wonder, when you looked into my eyes. I ain’t never had a woman look at me like that before.”

She made a face and glanced back over her shoulder to find that she was nose to nose with him. There was a tension in the air that felt like an uncertain, wounded animal desperately looking for warmth and shelter. “Rich,” She took his hand and tugged him into the co-pilot’s chair. “Has your entire life lacked any sense of majesty or amazement? Any kindness?” His befuddled expression spoke volumes. “What I saw in your eyes was beautiful. Not to say that I don’t realize that you are what you are, any less than a wolf is a wolf or a tiger is a tiger or a shark is a shark. But there’s a place in nature for such things and I know that. It’s not you that scares me.”

Richard found himself blinking rapidly and extremely grateful for the dark goggles. He felt her warm hand holding his, like a lifeline. He struggled to keep his face blank, but her slight smile made him turn away. She was one in a million, an angel, for all her flaws. No wonder the Doctor took a shine to her. She's more what the alien gent deserves, not some con on the run like him. But he didn't think that he'd ever be able to shake his addiction to the man, not now. “The Doctor seems to be making progress with the computers, yeah?”

She looked at the odd mismatch of dials and readouts, “Amazing, isn't it? I didn't think the two systems could mesh like this, but somehow he got the best of both working together. But I got to confess - I have no idea where he came from or who he is, Rich. Some of the stuff he's told me is downright surreal.”

“None of my business that, really. He decides who he choses to confide in.” Riddick tried to keep the anger out of his voice, wondering why the news that the Doctor had told Fry stuff felt like a betrayal.

Her puzzled air made him look back at her. She blinked at the jealousy flowing off of him, “Oh.” It hadn't occurred to her that perhaps the Doctor's words had been a warning about some exclusive thing between the two. She can see now now that more than likely something was happening that the Doctor knew full well the implications of and had been carefully telling her to not get in the way. “No,” Carolyn let out a relieved and amused snort. “Nothing like you're thinking, Rich. He's very possessive of you. Warned me to not barge in, actually.” Did Riddick think that the Doctor was interested in her the same way the other man had been thinking the reverse? Blind a bats, both of them.

“What?”

She laughed now, “You didn't know? I swear. He practically has to hurt himself to keep from going after Johns. Every little time the marshal tries to hedge you in the Doctor looks like he's about to take his head off. And he doesn't like my attempts to include you. I think he's out there right now fuming because you're in here with me.”

Richard digested this new information. “He's trying to get River to sleep for a while. She don't rest unless she's exhausted, drugged, or he's with her.” He made a face, wondering why that didn't make him rage with possessive jealousy now. Maybe it was because he knew it was more of a medical thing with the dark headed girl. And he liked River. Wanted her to get better, even. “So you think he's a acquisitive bastard, do you?”

Fry raised an eyebrow, “Truthfully... I think you both are, but neither of you realizes it yet. But it's OK. You're good together. Or you will be.”

Richard fixed her with a stare that she couldn't quite read. First River and now Fry, both telling him that he and the Doctor belonged together. The tremor that flooded through him made him very glad he was sitting down. Maybe she'd hit the nail on the head too hard? Was Carolyn an untrained reader? Or was it more that he and the alien were broadcasting to everyone in sight that they had claims on each other? Was he already too involved? What would happen when Billy tried to haul him back to Slam? After a long pause he asked, “Think Johns is an do-right man? You think I can trust him to cut me loose?”

Her hand twitched. “No. No, I don’t. But it’s not his say, is it, Richard? It’s mine. I made that deal, and I intend to keep it, one way or another.”

“You do?” He was surprised, in spite of himself. Fry nodded. His hand squeezed hers then let go, but her small palm didn’t move from his. “Well -- guess if it was trickeration he'd just ‘x’ me out, huh? Then again...I am worth twice as much alive.” He glanced back at her and saw the pieces falling into place in Carolyn’s head. He confirmed for her the truth of his relationship with the marshal, “Didn't you know? Your Johns, he ain't a cop. Oh, he's got that shiny badge an' all, but nah -- he's just a merc and I'm just a payday. That's why he won't kill me, see. The creed is greed.”

“He didn’t say, other than Conga authorities were ordering him out of the system. I didn’t actually speak with him, Merritt did. You know, It would just figure, though.” She glanced over at the data streaming past. The hull check still had about half way to go. They sit in silence for a rather long time as she worked out her thoughts about the subject. She'd told her impression of the redheaded man to one of them. Now she needed to confide in Richard. She needed him to know that she did trust him, fully, “He scares me, Rich. I admit that. I’ve told the Doctor as much. He pulled his gun on me, even. But we can’t let him know that we see past his front.”

“True enough. He’s got more secrets than I do, Carolyn. And in fourteen days, when the lights go out, the dyin’ will start. Johns is gonna figure out that there’s only room for seven on this little boat. And so will Ogilvie. I don't truly know what's gonna happen when it all goes pitch black, but I do know this little psycho-fuck family of ours is gonna rip itself apart.” He took a breath, “So you better find out the truth about Johns. Come nightfall, you better know exactly who is standing behind you.”

“And the Doctor? Don’t you forget that he’s got a killer’s eyes too, Richard. You, Johns, Paris, you got nothing on that man for mystery. Yet you trust him. And oddly enough so do I. If anyone can see us through this, he can.” She glanced at Riddick’s face and noted the muscle working in his jaw. “What? You didn’t think anyone else could see the shadows in his eyes or the rage and power that he barely keeps in check? The Doctor makes Johns look like a child throwing a fit in comparison.”

Riddick took his hand away from hers and lifted his goggles to rub his eyes. “Fuck, Fry. How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Fuckin’ read my mind? Yeah, the Doctor is dangerous. Powerful. Genius. But he’s one thing that Johns ain’t. Good -- he’s fuckin’ pure. So squeaky clean in his righteousness that he’d drown all of us in it, except for maybe Imam.”

Carolyn laughed, “How the hell can someone be a killer and still qualify for sainthood?”

The ex-ranger snorted, “Got me there. But it’s true. Watch how the Father greets him, sometime.” Off to the side a monitor chirps the news: “HULL INTEGRITY --100%. EXHALING GASSES.” The hatch opened automatically with a sigh. Fry looked at Riddick as he stood up and headed for the exit. He needed to find the Doctor and settle his nerves again. He felt like he couldn't breathe now that the man's scent was a fading memory. But he also wanted Fry to find the truth about Johns, “Carolyn? Ask Billy about those shakes of his, huh? Ask why your crew-pal had to scream like that before he died.”

She blinked and gave him a nod. The goggles went back down and he nodded too before walking out into the post dusk, pre-dawn, twilight. The pain of her last moments with Owens lanced her heart. If the redhead was around right then she’d let him have it, but as it was he’s off at the crash site stripping the cargo bay. Carolyn squeezed her eyes closed and laid her head on the console. Despair threatened her soul for a moment.

“Come, eat with us,” said a soft voice. She looked up to see River. She thought the girl had been sleeping but maybe she didn't need as much as the others. The Doctor definitely didn't. Fry on the other hand was suddenly fighting to keep her eyes open, “You need to sleep. Let Lei-yu work on the life support.” The docking pilot smiled and followed the dark-headed girl out. The food from the dining area smelled divine and she was both hungry and exhausted. Maybe River was right.

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