TLAWR Chapter 65: San Helios
Rated: R (to be safe)
Features: The 10th Doctor, Rose Tyler, Martha Jones, Donna Noble, Astrid Peth, the 5th Doctor, the Brigadier, UNIT, Gwen Cooper, Ianto Jones, Rhys Williams, Mickey Smith, Sarah Jane Smith, River Song, Jenny, Lee MacAvoy and others.
Pairings: Doctor/Rose, Jack/Ianto, Martha/Mickey
A/N: Nothing belongs to me. Some dialogue taken from Planet of the Dead. Well I was hoping to wrap up this rewrite with this chapter but it had other ideas, so next week we'll finish Planet of the Dead and move on. Look forward to seeing some familiar faces in the coming updates.
(Earlier Entries) ( Chapter Sixty-Two) ( Chapter Sixty-Three) ( Chapter Sixty-Four)
"So," Christina said as she stepped up next to the Doctor and assessed the dilapidated-looking bus. "What you're saying is we need to get five tones of bus that's currently buried in sand back through that wormhole and we've got nothing but our bare hands to do so."
The Doctor pulled a face. "Well, I'd say closer to nine tones but essentially, yes."
Christina brushed her spotless black trousers free of imaginary dust and surveyed the scene with brisk determination. "Right, then. The first thing we need to do is appoint a leader."
The Doctor rocked back on his heels and opened his mouth, clearly ready to accept the anticipated offer but Christina continued, heedless. "Good thing you've got men, then." She wiped beads of sweat from her brown and grimaced. "Second item of business-back in the bus."
"We'll bake in there!" Barclay protested.
"And we'll roast out here," Christina pointed out. "Of the two baking, at least, is slower."
Inside the bus Christina outlined the essential details of their situation in detached, logical terms. The Doctor sat next to Rose towards the back of the bus. She held his hand, thumb stroking his absently as she watched him from the corner of her eye. He wasn't listening so much as letting Christina's summary of events wash over him. Rose didn't trust the other woman, not one bit, but the look on his face when she neatly stole control of the situation right out from beneath him was hilarious.
"Now then," the other woman continued. "Names. I'm Christina."
"Nathan," said the young man on her left. He was pale but not sickly with light brown hair and eyes. His t-shirt, which was pink, had a large sweat spot between his shoulders. They were all going to need water soon, except for the Doctor.
The woman beside Nathan was Angela and she smiled at Rose, though the cut over her eye made her look like she'd lost a bar fight. Faint lines crinkled at the corner of her lips and her watery blue eyes as she clutched her coat tightly to her chest.
Just behind her the young black man raised his hand. "I'm Barclay," he told them. His hair was cut short like Mickey's had been just before the Doctor waltzed into their lives.
The others turned expectantly to the couple who had remained on the bus. "I'm Louis," the man said. "But everyone calls me Lou, and this is my wife Carmen." He had a gentle voice and a pleasant smile. Carmen seemed distracted and her remained fixed on the horizon as she nodded to them.
"I'm Rose," she said when it was their turn. "And this is the Doctor.
The sound of his name pulled his attention from whatever mad thing he'd been thinking about and he gave a little wave. "Yes, hello!"
Christina crossed her arms and leaned forward. "You seem to be the brainbox, Doctor-so start boxing."
"I thought you were in charge," he replied with a raised eyebrow.
"A good leader knows how to use her assets to their best advantage," she replied and gestured for him to take the floor.
Rose slid out of the seat to let him through and stood in the aisle to watch. Scientist he might be, and genius and dreamer and teacher, but he was also a natural showman. He winked at her as he pulled out his glasses, lenses clear again.
"Falling through this wormhole was an accident," he began but Carmen interrupted him.
"No," she said firmly. "No it wasn't. That thing was made for a purpose."
The Doctor frowned and turned to face her. "How do you know that?"
Lou wrapped his arm around his wife. "She has a gift," he replied proudly. "Every week we play the lottery-"
"Don't look like millionaires," Christina muttered under her breath. Rose shot her a look as Lou continued.
"And every week, twice a week, we win ten pounds." He smiled gently and squeezed Carmen's hand. "You can't tell me that's not a gift."
Rose turned back toward them. "Carmen." She put her hand behind her back. "How many fingers am I holding up?"
"Three," the woman answered immediately. Rose raised another one and once again Carmen knew. "Four."
"Latent psychic abilities?" Rose asked the Doctor, who looked impressed.
"I'd say-like augmented by an alien sun."
Rose blinked. "What, like superman?"
He winked at her again and knelt in front of Carmen and Lou. "What can you see?" he asked. "What's out there?"
Her eyes drifted to the window again and she stared off into the distance, eyes unfocused. "Something is coming." Her voice was soft and certain. "It's riding on the wind-and shining."
"What is it?" Rose asked. The others waited, hanging on every word.
"Death," she said simply. "Death is coming."
The bus erupted into chaos. Lou questioned his wife intently and she nodded, eyes brimming with tears and hands shaking.
"We're going to die!" Angela shrieked and sobbed into her coat. Nathan, pale as a sheet, tried to comfort her.
Barclay jumped up and started pacing, running his hand over his close-cropped hair. "I told you, man!" he yelled and threw his arms out. "I told you!"
"But we can't die here," Nathan objected faintly. "No one will find us."
"You know, this really isn't helping," Christina reminded them pleasantly.
"And you!" Barclay rounded on her. Desperation made his voice shake. "You can just shut up! We're not your soldiers!"
"Now, hang on a minute," the Doctor began as he stepped forward, arms raised in a placating gesture.
Angela buried her face in Nathan's shoulder and sobbed, lifting her head occasionally to wail about their oncoming demise. Christina and Barclay traded pointed insults but the calmer she was the louder he yelled. Nathan stared at nothing, repeating shocked denials of their seemingly inevitable fate and over it all the Doctor yelled for quiet.
Rose put her fingers to her lips like Mickey taught her and whistled.
It was shrill and ear-splittingly loud and unexpected enough to jar the other passengers into silence, even the haughty Christina. They turned to stare at Rose who stood with her feet firmly planted and her shoulders back. She was calm, collected, in control-and she looked it.
"Whatever is coming, it's not here yet," she said. "We are, and we're alive, and we're going to stay that way."
"Angela," the Doctor cut in, before the others could get over their shock enough to break down again. "Angela, look at me." She wouldn't, instead she pressed her face harder into Nathan's shirt. "Angela," he commanded. "Look at me." Finally she raised her head and he smiled at her. "There we go. Before we ended up here, when you got on this bus where were you going?"
"Don't matter now, does it?" she asked bitterly.
"Just, just answer me. Where were you going?"
"Home," she gasped out and wiped her eyes roughly.
"Someone waiting for you, yeah?" Rose continued as she caught his train of thought. "Who's home, Angela?"
"Mike, he's my husband, and Suzanne." Angela sniffed. "She's my daughter, she's eighteen."
"What about you?" Rose asked Barclay.
He shrugged and glanced away. "Dunno, just going round to see Tina."
The Doctor threw a grateful look in Rose's direction. "Who's she? A girlfriend?"
The corner of Barclay's mouth pulled up in the smallest of smiles. "Not yet."
"Good boy! Lou, Carmen-where were you going?" As each person answered their voices grew stronger. The air of fear died down. Slowly, so slowly, they collectively stepped back from the hysteria that had threatened to rip them apart. When the Doctor turned to Christina for a single, solitary moment Rose saw the aloof mask drop.
"Far away," she answered and the longing in her voice was almost palpable. "Just-so far away." Then the mask was firmly in place again and she gave them a smile that Rose didn't believe, not for a second.
"Hold on to that," Rose told them firmly. "The fastest way to make sure that we never see London ever again is to let fear overtake you. We've been in tighter spots before, me'n the Doctor and we've come out just fine. So if you have to believe anything, believe this: we're going to get you home."
Twenty minutes later Nathan was hard at work digging out the bus's tyres with a shovel Christina produced from her backpack and Barclay knelt in front of the engine, stripping the air filter to rid it of the insidious sand. Angela sat in the driver's seat, waiting for the go-ahead from Barclay. The plan was to lay seats down like duckboards and reverse the bus back through the wormhole. Carmen and Lou worked on freeing seat-backs with a short hatchet, also provided by Christina. Rose stood on a dune a short walk away with the Doctor and watched Christina urge Nathan on and give Barclay a quick word of approval.
"An axe and a shovel," Rose said quietly. "Wonder what else she's got in that bag."
"No telling," the Doctor replied with a quick grin. Christina glanced back at them and he waved at her.
"Earlier, just before we went into the tunnel and your detector-thingie went crazy," Rose continued thoughtfully. "Just after she got on-there were sirens. Do you remember, Doctor?"
He paused. "It's London, Rose. I'm sure there are lots of sirens."
"Yeah-but when she heard them she flinched." She ran a hand through her sweat-damp hair and sighed. "Look, I'm not saying she's a bad person. Out of everyone here she's the least likely to panic and I swear that backpack of hers is dimensionally transcendental. Just-watch yourself around her, okay?"
He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. "Yes ma'am."
Rose allowed herself the luxury of leaning into him for a moment. "So. Do you think Carmen's right? Do you think the wormhole was made on purpose?"
"That test you did was pretty convincing." He rested his head on top of hers for a moment and then shifted away, dropping to his haunches to examine the sand again. "Tell you one thing, though-every instinct I have is telling me to get off this planet now."
Rose nodded. "Tell me about it. It's like when someone's watching you, that tingle you get on the back of your neck." He picked up a handful of sand and let it run through his fingers, watching as it drifted down and piled beneath him. After a moment of silent contemplation he bounced to his feet again and brushed off his hands, staring out at the horizon.
"Don't like the look of that," he said and gestured to a line of clouds low in the sky.
Rose shielded her eyes and followed his gaze. "If that's a sandstorm we'll get torn to shreds."
"It's a storm," the Doctor allowed though his tone was far from reassuring. "But who says it's sand?"
When they rejoined the others Barclay was almost done with the filter and Nathan had the front right tire completely uncovered. Lou stood next to four seat-backs piled just outside the door and Carmen watched them from inside. Christina supervised the operation with her hands on her hips and a jaunty smile.
"Any closer to figuring out where we are?" she asked.
The Doctor ignored her. "Rose, do you have your mobile?"
"Always." Rose pulled out her trusty superphone and handed it over.
Christina watched them incredulously. "We're on an alien planet-there's no way you could get signal here!"
"I've got a very good plan," Rose replied with a grin.
The Doctor frowned and closed his eyes as he stared at the screen. "Just have to remember the number," he muttered, and dialed-and a pizza place picked up. Two successive attempts led to a Laundromat and then a very confused housewife. Rose plucked the phone away from him, pressed two buttons, and handed it back. The Doctor blinked. "You've got UNIT on speed dial?" he asked.
Rose grinned. "And the Hub too. Never know when you'll need backup, yeah?"
Angela managed to get them through the menus to a real person and from there it was a moment before they were connected to the officer in charge of the situation. Rose left him to it. The science was never her forte. Even with the dimension cannon she knew as much as she needed to in order to make it work. She knew what parts it required, how they went together, and what to do if it was broken but the actual mechanics never really interested her. Instead she turned her gaze back to the clouds on the horizon; they were already much closer. How fast were they moving to cover such ground?
"Closer and closer and closer," Carmen murmured from inside the bus just above Rose's head. "And shining."
The Doctor slid the phone shut and pocketed it. "We'll need a way to keep in touch," he said and looked around at the others who had formed a loose circle around him as he spoke. "Anyone else got a mobile?"
"I do," Barclay said and fished it out of his pocket.
The Doctor grabbed it and pried the back off and the battery out and before Barclay had a chance to protest he upgraded it to a functioning superphone. "Planning on wandering off?" Rose asked lightly.
"I need to get pictures of the storm for Malcom-that's the science officer on site. He might be able to give us a better idea of what's coming," the Doctor replied without looking up. After a moment he replaced the sonic in his pocket with a flourish and snapped the phone back together before he pressed it into Rose's hands. "Be back in a tic," he told her with a smile.
"I'll go with," Christina declared and swung her backpack onto her shoulder. "Safety in numbers and all of that."
"Despite whatever you may think," the Doctor said, "I can function on my own."
"Haven't you ever heard of the buddy system?" Christina replied, one eyebrow raised to match the Doctor's which climbed towards his hairline. "Besides-you're the man with the answers. I'm not letting you out of my sight."
"You know," the Doctor said as they slogged up the side of a massive sand dune. "This would be easier if you left that behind."
Christina's grip on her backpack tightened. "It goes where I go." She floundered for a moment but found her footing and continued doggedly on. By the time they reached the top of the dune she was sweating profusely and her calves ached. She was fit-people in her profession had to be-but walking in sand was like walking in snow without snowshoes. The Doctor appeared unaffected, even with his long coat and suit underneath it. He snapped pictures of the clouds on the horizon while Christina set her pack on the ground and caught her breath.
"Do you really think the bus will make it through the wormhole intact?" she asked when she had recovered.
"I live in hope," he replied as he fiddled with the phone.
"Must be nice." She exhaled roughly and turned away before she could catch the sharp glance he threw in her direction.
"So, Christina who is going far, far away and afraid of sirens, who carries a shovel and an axe in a backpack she won't let out of sight-who are you?" He slid the phone into his pocket and rocked back on his heels.
"You can talk." Her gaze was searching as she looked him up and down. "It's an oven out here but you haven't broken a sweat. Back on the bus you had that machine for the wormhole and you stride around like-like-" He cocked an eyebrow and gestured for her to continue. Christina shook her head and smiled crookedly. She opened her mouth to continue but something in the clouds caught her eye. "Is that metal?"
The Doctor blinked. "What?"
"There, in the clouds." She pointed to the storm behind him. "There's something sparkling."
"Shining, Carmen said," he murmured as he followed the line of her arm.
"Like metal," Christina continued. "But why would there be metal in a storm?"
Rose wiped the back of her hand across her brow and stepped back, shielding her eyes from the harsh glare reflecting off the side of the bus. The wheels were clear and the seat-backs in place. Barclay was finished with the air filter and only Carmen and Angela remained inside the bus. The air in the wheels, as per Christina's suggestion, had been let out just a bit to spread the bus's weight and give it better traction in the sand. The others stood behind her, waiting.
"Okay, Angela," she called. "Give it a go!"
"Ding, ding!" the other woman said and flipped the switch to start the bus. It moved, barely. The sides swayed as Angela pressed the pedal down again and again with everyone outside calling out suggestions and instructions until finally-it stopped. With a growl the engine sputtered and died and dread curled in the pit of Rose's stomach.
"What's happened?" Nathan asked.
"Out of petrol," Barclay answered numbly. "Must have been low before we hit that wormhole thing."
Christina held her hands up in a universally recognized sign that she was unarmed as an alien that bore an uncanny resemblance to a fly gestured something that looked like a weapon in her general direction. The Doctor stood slightly in front of her, his arms out in a gesture that was protective more than afraid. The alien (it could only be an alien) chattered at them in a language that seemed comprised of clicks and shrill vocalizations. It had huge, multifaceted eyes, a wicked-looking mandible, and a tan jumpsuit.
The Doctor chattered back. "That's 'wait,'" he told her. "I shout 'wait,' people usually do."
"You speak their language?" she asked as she kept one eye on their captor.
"I speak every language," he replied. The fly alien spoke again and gestured at them with its gun.
"That's 'move,'" Christina said.
He grinned at her. "You're catching on fast."
Rose snapped Barclay's phone shut and chewed on her thumbnail. Three times in the past fifteen minutes she tried to call the Doctor and every time it went to voicemail-straight to voicemail. First the threat appeared, then it was realized when they traveled through the wormhole. They were rapidly approaching the time in all surprise-adventures-gone-wrong when someone (usually the Doctor but sometimes Rose) was captured and held hostage by hostile aliens.
"You never said, before," Angela commented as Rose rejoined the others inside the bus. "What's waiting for you back in London?"
She smiled. "Oh. Home. And our friend, Sarah Jane. We were going to tea before the Doctor found that wormhole. Story of my life, really."
"The two of you aren't from around here, are you," Barclay said.
She eyed him warily. Trapped with strangers on a bus in the middle of a desert planet wasn't all that different from trapped with strangers on a bus on a planet made of diamond, after all. "Not as such, no. Is that alright?"
"Blimey." Nathan leaned back in his seat. "Not every day you meet aliens."
The fly-alien marched the Doctor and Christina to its ship which lay in pieces several dunes away. Sand piled against one side, blown there by the ever-present wind that set them to coughing several times, even the Doctor. Inside the ship was freezing and Christina wished for a long coat like the Doctor's.
He, at least, seemed to be enjoying their predicament. "That's photafine steel on the hull," he told her with barely controlled glee. "It gets cold when it's hot, so boiling desert outside and icy ship inside. Just look that this-she must have been a beauty intact, a proper, streamlined deep-spacer."
"I'll remember that when I'm being tortured slowly," Christina replied tartly as she picked her way through the parts littering the floor. "At least I'll be bleeding on the floor of a really well designed ship."
"Don't be so negative." He followed her, still managing to position himself between Christina and the fly alien. "No one's hurt you yet."
A second fly alien waited for them in what looked to have been the ship's cockpit. It conversed with the first briefly before activating what looked like a large purple button on the front of its tan jumpsuit.
"Brilliant," the Doctor said. "I'm the Doctor and this is Christina. It's a telepathic translator," he told her. "They can understand us now."
The aliens chattered at him again and Christina frowned. "Why can't I understand them?"
"It's a one way telepathic translator," he said shortly before turning his attention back to their hosts. "You will suffer for your crimes," he coninued as they chittered and gestured with identical unfamiliar weapons. "Et cetera. You have committed an act of violence against the Tritovores-brilliant, that's them, they're called Tritovores-you came here in the two hundred, to destroy us." He frowned. "Sorry, what? What's the 'two hundred?'"
"The bus," Christina supplied. "It's the number two hundred. They mean the bus."
"Oh!" he exclaimed. "No, look-I think you're making the same mistake as Christina. We didn't come here we were pulled here through a wormhole. The two hundred doesn't look like that normally; it's broken, just like your ship."
The Tritovores conferred for a moment and then lowered their weapons.
Christina shifted subtly closer to the Doctor. "What are they doing?"
"They believe me," he replied with a smile and lowered his hands.
She stared at him. "Just like that?"
"I've got a very honest face." His lips quirked. "And the translator's telling them I'm telling the truth but still-the face."
A quick explanation of their scenario and a kinetic redirect later and the Doctor and Christina sat on the floor of the ship watching images and information scroll over the two large screens in front of the pilot console. The Tritovores were busy behind them checking connections and preparing a probe to investigate the strange storm that loomed ever closer.
"Scorpion nebula," the Doctor said as an image of space flashed across the screen. "Long way from home. Just what you wanted-so far away." The image shifted to a planet with strange symbols underneath that Christina assumed was the Tritovore language. It was so green, like what she imagined Earth must look like from space though with very few oceans, certainly not at all like the desert outside. In fact, for as large as the desert appeared to be there was no corresponding location on the planet before them.
"San Helios," the Doctor continued.
"That's another planet," she said softly, her voice heavy with awe. "We're on another planet."
He glanced at her over the top of his specs. "We have been for quite some time."
She waved him away. "I know, I know. But seeing it like this-it's more real. This could be any desert but that, that is another world."
A grin spread across his face as he returned his attention to the screen. "It's good, isn't it?"
Christina's mouth hung open slightly as the planet morphed into a close-up view of a cityscape. Her eyes were wide as she took in the trees planted in orderly rows, the ship hovering in midair. There were some tall, square building that resembled London high-rises but most of the architecture was completely unfamiliar in a way that Earth cities would never be. "It's wonderful," she agreed.
The aliens behind them chattered and the Doctor nodded. "The Tritovores were going to trade with San Helios. Population of a hundred billion, plenty of waste for them to absorb. That's San Helios city on the screen, the capital."
"Waste?" Christina glanced at their hosts and made a face. "You mean?"
The Doctor pursed his lips. "It's a good system, actually. Sort of like recycling. And anyway-they are flies."
She rolled her eyes. "Charming. Just remind me not to kiss one." They were silent for a moment as more images of the city appeared. "Magnificent," she breathed after a particularly beautiful view of the three suns setting behind the skyline. "But you've seen this sort of thing before, haven't you?"
The Doctor's face was carefully neutral as he leaned back against the cockpit wall. "Might have done, yeah."
Surprised delight and a flicker of smug satisfaction flashed across her face. "You're an alien! I knew it!"
"I'm a Time Lord," he replied. "Don't worry, you don't have to kiss me either. In fact-please don't. Rose gets cross when strangers kiss me."
Christina raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Does that happen often?"
The corners of his lips twitched. "More often than you'd think. About as often as she ends up with a pretty-boy tag-along."
"So, an alien in London?" she asked with a crooked smile. "What, did you settle down? Get a job?"
"I happen to like Earth," he replied. "Always getting into trouble, you lot, but actually-no. Just a stop to visit an old friend while Donna-she travels with Rose and I-had a bit of a date."
"What, so you've got a ship then?"
He snorted. "Of course I do. Be a rubbish Time Lord without one."
"It's funny, though." She leaned forward, studying him intently. "You look human."
He shifted away just a hair, just enough to keep the distance between them the same. "You look Time Lord, actually. Anyway!" The Tritovores returned and the Doctor sprang to his feet and strode to the pilot's console. "Probe's away!" he said gleefully and whirled to face Christina, who remained seated. "Now we wait."
"But if that's San Helios city don't we just have to find them?" she pointed out. "They're here, they can help us!"
The second Tritovore chattered at the Doctor and all the exuberance fled from his face. "I don't think it's that simple." Goosebumps spread down Christina's arms and back. She rubbed her arms-just the cold, that's all it was, not the flat tone of his voice or the way he sagged against the console, like it was the only thing holding him up. "We're in the city now," he continued and closed his eyes.
She stood. "Those pictures must have been taken ages ago, then."
He shook his head. "They were taken last year."
"That's impossible." She stepped forward until she was standing just in front of him. "Tell me that's impossible."
"I said it, didn't I," he mused and the images on the screen changed to the wasteland outside. "There's something in the sand-a hundred billion people. An entire civilization ground down into sand. All the people and plants and wildlife. All those voices in Carmen's head-she's hearing them die. Something destroyed the whole of San Helios."
The wormhole was getting bigger, which should be impossible but his whole life was one impossibility after the other so what was one more added to the stack? And the UNIT commanding officer, captain Magambo, was asking if it posed a threat to Earth. He growled and ran his hands through his hair, desperately trying to think. "How?" he muttered as he paced the cockpit. "How could the wormhole be getting bigger? The amount of energy needed to generate the continuous growth would be astronomical and the TARDIS should have been able to detect a power source that large anywhere on Earth-Oh!" He smacked his forehead. "Oh I'm being thick-of course! Not on Earth, then."
"Doctor?" Christina asked.
"Hmm?" he replied.
She pointed at his coat. "Your pocket's ringing."
"Oh." He pulled the phone out and slid his finger across the screen in a complicated pattern while it blared up-tempo pop music. "Rose? Rose! What is it?"
She took a deep breath. Fifth time was the charm, apparently.
"Doctor, it's the bus," she said as gently as she could. Behind her Angela sobbed.
"It's my fault," the other woman gasped.
Rose shook her head. "No, sweetheart, it's not."
"What about the bus?" he demanded. There was some sort of interference with the line on his end, a crackling static that made her wince.
"It's out of petrol. It must have been low when we came through, the driver would have known, but, well-" She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."
"You promised you'd get us home!" Nathan cried.
"We will," Rose replied firmly.
"Closer," Carmen said, her eyes once again fixed on the approaching storm clouds. "Closer and closer and closer they come-the ones who devour."
"Keep them calm, Rose," the Doctor ordered. "I'm coming."
She nodded before she remembered that he couldn't see her. "I know. We're alright, Doctor. Don't worry. Just get back soon, yeah?"
The Doctor shut the phone and slid it back in his pocket. Christina rounded on him, tension in every line on her face.
"What happened?" she demanded. "What did Rose say?"
He ignored her in favor of the Tritovores, who were chittering excitedly and pointing at the screens in the front of the cockpit. "The probe's reached the storm."
Except it wasn't a storm-it was a swarm. A swarm of aliens that looked part metal part stingray and glided through the sky on wings that were at least three feet across. They converged on the probe like maggots on meat and the last image it reported was a close-up of razor sharp teeth before static flickered across the screens.
Christina shuddered. "So much for the probe."
"Eaten, I would guess," the Doctor agreed.
"There must be millions of them," she said.
He rocked on the balls of his feet. "Billions." His brow furrowed and the corners of his lips pulled down into a frown. "Eaten. Everything on this planet gets eaten. And with the speed they're going they'll be here within the hour."
"Why?" she asked. "Why do they want us?"
"Not us." He leaned forward and stared at the static as if he could will the probe back into existence. "The wormhole. They'll fly through and strip the Earth clean just like San Helios."
Features: The 10th Doctor, Rose Tyler, Martha Jones, Donna Noble, Astrid Peth, the 5th Doctor, the Brigadier, UNIT, Gwen Cooper, Ianto Jones, Rhys Williams, Mickey Smith, Sarah Jane Smith, River Song, Jenny, Lee MacAvoy and others.
Pairings: Doctor/Rose, Jack/Ianto, Martha/Mickey
A/N: Nothing belongs to me. Some dialogue taken from Planet of the Dead. Well I was hoping to wrap up this rewrite with this chapter but it had other ideas, so next week we'll finish Planet of the Dead and move on. Look forward to seeing some familiar faces in the coming updates.
(Earlier Entries) ( Chapter Sixty-Two) ( Chapter Sixty-Three) ( Chapter Sixty-Four)
"So," Christina said as she stepped up next to the Doctor and assessed the dilapidated-looking bus. "What you're saying is we need to get five tones of bus that's currently buried in sand back through that wormhole and we've got nothing but our bare hands to do so."
The Doctor pulled a face. "Well, I'd say closer to nine tones but essentially, yes."
Christina brushed her spotless black trousers free of imaginary dust and surveyed the scene with brisk determination. "Right, then. The first thing we need to do is appoint a leader."
The Doctor rocked back on his heels and opened his mouth, clearly ready to accept the anticipated offer but Christina continued, heedless. "Good thing you've got men, then." She wiped beads of sweat from her brown and grimaced. "Second item of business-back in the bus."
"We'll bake in there!" Barclay protested.
"And we'll roast out here," Christina pointed out. "Of the two baking, at least, is slower."
Inside the bus Christina outlined the essential details of their situation in detached, logical terms. The Doctor sat next to Rose towards the back of the bus. She held his hand, thumb stroking his absently as she watched him from the corner of her eye. He wasn't listening so much as letting Christina's summary of events wash over him. Rose didn't trust the other woman, not one bit, but the look on his face when she neatly stole control of the situation right out from beneath him was hilarious.
"Now then," the other woman continued. "Names. I'm Christina."
"Nathan," said the young man on her left. He was pale but not sickly with light brown hair and eyes. His t-shirt, which was pink, had a large sweat spot between his shoulders. They were all going to need water soon, except for the Doctor.
The woman beside Nathan was Angela and she smiled at Rose, though the cut over her eye made her look like she'd lost a bar fight. Faint lines crinkled at the corner of her lips and her watery blue eyes as she clutched her coat tightly to her chest.
Just behind her the young black man raised his hand. "I'm Barclay," he told them. His hair was cut short like Mickey's had been just before the Doctor waltzed into their lives.
The others turned expectantly to the couple who had remained on the bus. "I'm Louis," the man said. "But everyone calls me Lou, and this is my wife Carmen." He had a gentle voice and a pleasant smile. Carmen seemed distracted and her remained fixed on the horizon as she nodded to them.
"I'm Rose," she said when it was their turn. "And this is the Doctor.
The sound of his name pulled his attention from whatever mad thing he'd been thinking about and he gave a little wave. "Yes, hello!"
Christina crossed her arms and leaned forward. "You seem to be the brainbox, Doctor-so start boxing."
"I thought you were in charge," he replied with a raised eyebrow.
"A good leader knows how to use her assets to their best advantage," she replied and gestured for him to take the floor.
Rose slid out of the seat to let him through and stood in the aisle to watch. Scientist he might be, and genius and dreamer and teacher, but he was also a natural showman. He winked at her as he pulled out his glasses, lenses clear again.
"Falling through this wormhole was an accident," he began but Carmen interrupted him.
"No," she said firmly. "No it wasn't. That thing was made for a purpose."
The Doctor frowned and turned to face her. "How do you know that?"
Lou wrapped his arm around his wife. "She has a gift," he replied proudly. "Every week we play the lottery-"
"Don't look like millionaires," Christina muttered under her breath. Rose shot her a look as Lou continued.
"And every week, twice a week, we win ten pounds." He smiled gently and squeezed Carmen's hand. "You can't tell me that's not a gift."
Rose turned back toward them. "Carmen." She put her hand behind her back. "How many fingers am I holding up?"
"Three," the woman answered immediately. Rose raised another one and once again Carmen knew. "Four."
"Latent psychic abilities?" Rose asked the Doctor, who looked impressed.
"I'd say-like augmented by an alien sun."
Rose blinked. "What, like superman?"
He winked at her again and knelt in front of Carmen and Lou. "What can you see?" he asked. "What's out there?"
Her eyes drifted to the window again and she stared off into the distance, eyes unfocused. "Something is coming." Her voice was soft and certain. "It's riding on the wind-and shining."
"What is it?" Rose asked. The others waited, hanging on every word.
"Death," she said simply. "Death is coming."
The bus erupted into chaos. Lou questioned his wife intently and she nodded, eyes brimming with tears and hands shaking.
"We're going to die!" Angela shrieked and sobbed into her coat. Nathan, pale as a sheet, tried to comfort her.
Barclay jumped up and started pacing, running his hand over his close-cropped hair. "I told you, man!" he yelled and threw his arms out. "I told you!"
"But we can't die here," Nathan objected faintly. "No one will find us."
"You know, this really isn't helping," Christina reminded them pleasantly.
"And you!" Barclay rounded on her. Desperation made his voice shake. "You can just shut up! We're not your soldiers!"
"Now, hang on a minute," the Doctor began as he stepped forward, arms raised in a placating gesture.
Angela buried her face in Nathan's shoulder and sobbed, lifting her head occasionally to wail about their oncoming demise. Christina and Barclay traded pointed insults but the calmer she was the louder he yelled. Nathan stared at nothing, repeating shocked denials of their seemingly inevitable fate and over it all the Doctor yelled for quiet.
Rose put her fingers to her lips like Mickey taught her and whistled.
It was shrill and ear-splittingly loud and unexpected enough to jar the other passengers into silence, even the haughty Christina. They turned to stare at Rose who stood with her feet firmly planted and her shoulders back. She was calm, collected, in control-and she looked it.
"Whatever is coming, it's not here yet," she said. "We are, and we're alive, and we're going to stay that way."
"Angela," the Doctor cut in, before the others could get over their shock enough to break down again. "Angela, look at me." She wouldn't, instead she pressed her face harder into Nathan's shirt. "Angela," he commanded. "Look at me." Finally she raised her head and he smiled at her. "There we go. Before we ended up here, when you got on this bus where were you going?"
"Don't matter now, does it?" she asked bitterly.
"Just, just answer me. Where were you going?"
"Home," she gasped out and wiped her eyes roughly.
"Someone waiting for you, yeah?" Rose continued as she caught his train of thought. "Who's home, Angela?"
"Mike, he's my husband, and Suzanne." Angela sniffed. "She's my daughter, she's eighteen."
"What about you?" Rose asked Barclay.
He shrugged and glanced away. "Dunno, just going round to see Tina."
The Doctor threw a grateful look in Rose's direction. "Who's she? A girlfriend?"
The corner of Barclay's mouth pulled up in the smallest of smiles. "Not yet."
"Good boy! Lou, Carmen-where were you going?" As each person answered their voices grew stronger. The air of fear died down. Slowly, so slowly, they collectively stepped back from the hysteria that had threatened to rip them apart. When the Doctor turned to Christina for a single, solitary moment Rose saw the aloof mask drop.
"Far away," she answered and the longing in her voice was almost palpable. "Just-so far away." Then the mask was firmly in place again and she gave them a smile that Rose didn't believe, not for a second.
"Hold on to that," Rose told them firmly. "The fastest way to make sure that we never see London ever again is to let fear overtake you. We've been in tighter spots before, me'n the Doctor and we've come out just fine. So if you have to believe anything, believe this: we're going to get you home."
Twenty minutes later Nathan was hard at work digging out the bus's tyres with a shovel Christina produced from her backpack and Barclay knelt in front of the engine, stripping the air filter to rid it of the insidious sand. Angela sat in the driver's seat, waiting for the go-ahead from Barclay. The plan was to lay seats down like duckboards and reverse the bus back through the wormhole. Carmen and Lou worked on freeing seat-backs with a short hatchet, also provided by Christina. Rose stood on a dune a short walk away with the Doctor and watched Christina urge Nathan on and give Barclay a quick word of approval.
"An axe and a shovel," Rose said quietly. "Wonder what else she's got in that bag."
"No telling," the Doctor replied with a quick grin. Christina glanced back at them and he waved at her.
"Earlier, just before we went into the tunnel and your detector-thingie went crazy," Rose continued thoughtfully. "Just after she got on-there were sirens. Do you remember, Doctor?"
He paused. "It's London, Rose. I'm sure there are lots of sirens."
"Yeah-but when she heard them she flinched." She ran a hand through her sweat-damp hair and sighed. "Look, I'm not saying she's a bad person. Out of everyone here she's the least likely to panic and I swear that backpack of hers is dimensionally transcendental. Just-watch yourself around her, okay?"
He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. "Yes ma'am."
Rose allowed herself the luxury of leaning into him for a moment. "So. Do you think Carmen's right? Do you think the wormhole was made on purpose?"
"That test you did was pretty convincing." He rested his head on top of hers for a moment and then shifted away, dropping to his haunches to examine the sand again. "Tell you one thing, though-every instinct I have is telling me to get off this planet now."
Rose nodded. "Tell me about it. It's like when someone's watching you, that tingle you get on the back of your neck." He picked up a handful of sand and let it run through his fingers, watching as it drifted down and piled beneath him. After a moment of silent contemplation he bounced to his feet again and brushed off his hands, staring out at the horizon.
"Don't like the look of that," he said and gestured to a line of clouds low in the sky.
Rose shielded her eyes and followed his gaze. "If that's a sandstorm we'll get torn to shreds."
"It's a storm," the Doctor allowed though his tone was far from reassuring. "But who says it's sand?"
When they rejoined the others Barclay was almost done with the filter and Nathan had the front right tire completely uncovered. Lou stood next to four seat-backs piled just outside the door and Carmen watched them from inside. Christina supervised the operation with her hands on her hips and a jaunty smile.
"Any closer to figuring out where we are?" she asked.
The Doctor ignored her. "Rose, do you have your mobile?"
"Always." Rose pulled out her trusty superphone and handed it over.
Christina watched them incredulously. "We're on an alien planet-there's no way you could get signal here!"
"I've got a very good plan," Rose replied with a grin.
The Doctor frowned and closed his eyes as he stared at the screen. "Just have to remember the number," he muttered, and dialed-and a pizza place picked up. Two successive attempts led to a Laundromat and then a very confused housewife. Rose plucked the phone away from him, pressed two buttons, and handed it back. The Doctor blinked. "You've got UNIT on speed dial?" he asked.
Rose grinned. "And the Hub too. Never know when you'll need backup, yeah?"
Angela managed to get them through the menus to a real person and from there it was a moment before they were connected to the officer in charge of the situation. Rose left him to it. The science was never her forte. Even with the dimension cannon she knew as much as she needed to in order to make it work. She knew what parts it required, how they went together, and what to do if it was broken but the actual mechanics never really interested her. Instead she turned her gaze back to the clouds on the horizon; they were already much closer. How fast were they moving to cover such ground?
"Closer and closer and closer," Carmen murmured from inside the bus just above Rose's head. "And shining."
The Doctor slid the phone shut and pocketed it. "We'll need a way to keep in touch," he said and looked around at the others who had formed a loose circle around him as he spoke. "Anyone else got a mobile?"
"I do," Barclay said and fished it out of his pocket.
The Doctor grabbed it and pried the back off and the battery out and before Barclay had a chance to protest he upgraded it to a functioning superphone. "Planning on wandering off?" Rose asked lightly.
"I need to get pictures of the storm for Malcom-that's the science officer on site. He might be able to give us a better idea of what's coming," the Doctor replied without looking up. After a moment he replaced the sonic in his pocket with a flourish and snapped the phone back together before he pressed it into Rose's hands. "Be back in a tic," he told her with a smile.
"I'll go with," Christina declared and swung her backpack onto her shoulder. "Safety in numbers and all of that."
"Despite whatever you may think," the Doctor said, "I can function on my own."
"Haven't you ever heard of the buddy system?" Christina replied, one eyebrow raised to match the Doctor's which climbed towards his hairline. "Besides-you're the man with the answers. I'm not letting you out of my sight."
"You know," the Doctor said as they slogged up the side of a massive sand dune. "This would be easier if you left that behind."
Christina's grip on her backpack tightened. "It goes where I go." She floundered for a moment but found her footing and continued doggedly on. By the time they reached the top of the dune she was sweating profusely and her calves ached. She was fit-people in her profession had to be-but walking in sand was like walking in snow without snowshoes. The Doctor appeared unaffected, even with his long coat and suit underneath it. He snapped pictures of the clouds on the horizon while Christina set her pack on the ground and caught her breath.
"Do you really think the bus will make it through the wormhole intact?" she asked when she had recovered.
"I live in hope," he replied as he fiddled with the phone.
"Must be nice." She exhaled roughly and turned away before she could catch the sharp glance he threw in her direction.
"So, Christina who is going far, far away and afraid of sirens, who carries a shovel and an axe in a backpack she won't let out of sight-who are you?" He slid the phone into his pocket and rocked back on his heels.
"You can talk." Her gaze was searching as she looked him up and down. "It's an oven out here but you haven't broken a sweat. Back on the bus you had that machine for the wormhole and you stride around like-like-" He cocked an eyebrow and gestured for her to continue. Christina shook her head and smiled crookedly. She opened her mouth to continue but something in the clouds caught her eye. "Is that metal?"
The Doctor blinked. "What?"
"There, in the clouds." She pointed to the storm behind him. "There's something sparkling."
"Shining, Carmen said," he murmured as he followed the line of her arm.
"Like metal," Christina continued. "But why would there be metal in a storm?"
Rose wiped the back of her hand across her brow and stepped back, shielding her eyes from the harsh glare reflecting off the side of the bus. The wheels were clear and the seat-backs in place. Barclay was finished with the air filter and only Carmen and Angela remained inside the bus. The air in the wheels, as per Christina's suggestion, had been let out just a bit to spread the bus's weight and give it better traction in the sand. The others stood behind her, waiting.
"Okay, Angela," she called. "Give it a go!"
"Ding, ding!" the other woman said and flipped the switch to start the bus. It moved, barely. The sides swayed as Angela pressed the pedal down again and again with everyone outside calling out suggestions and instructions until finally-it stopped. With a growl the engine sputtered and died and dread curled in the pit of Rose's stomach.
"What's happened?" Nathan asked.
"Out of petrol," Barclay answered numbly. "Must have been low before we hit that wormhole thing."
Christina held her hands up in a universally recognized sign that she was unarmed as an alien that bore an uncanny resemblance to a fly gestured something that looked like a weapon in her general direction. The Doctor stood slightly in front of her, his arms out in a gesture that was protective more than afraid. The alien (it could only be an alien) chattered at them in a language that seemed comprised of clicks and shrill vocalizations. It had huge, multifaceted eyes, a wicked-looking mandible, and a tan jumpsuit.
The Doctor chattered back. "That's 'wait,'" he told her. "I shout 'wait,' people usually do."
"You speak their language?" she asked as she kept one eye on their captor.
"I speak every language," he replied. The fly alien spoke again and gestured at them with its gun.
"That's 'move,'" Christina said.
He grinned at her. "You're catching on fast."
Rose snapped Barclay's phone shut and chewed on her thumbnail. Three times in the past fifteen minutes she tried to call the Doctor and every time it went to voicemail-straight to voicemail. First the threat appeared, then it was realized when they traveled through the wormhole. They were rapidly approaching the time in all surprise-adventures-gone-wrong when someone (usually the Doctor but sometimes Rose) was captured and held hostage by hostile aliens.
"You never said, before," Angela commented as Rose rejoined the others inside the bus. "What's waiting for you back in London?"
She smiled. "Oh. Home. And our friend, Sarah Jane. We were going to tea before the Doctor found that wormhole. Story of my life, really."
"The two of you aren't from around here, are you," Barclay said.
She eyed him warily. Trapped with strangers on a bus in the middle of a desert planet wasn't all that different from trapped with strangers on a bus on a planet made of diamond, after all. "Not as such, no. Is that alright?"
"Blimey." Nathan leaned back in his seat. "Not every day you meet aliens."
The fly-alien marched the Doctor and Christina to its ship which lay in pieces several dunes away. Sand piled against one side, blown there by the ever-present wind that set them to coughing several times, even the Doctor. Inside the ship was freezing and Christina wished for a long coat like the Doctor's.
He, at least, seemed to be enjoying their predicament. "That's photafine steel on the hull," he told her with barely controlled glee. "It gets cold when it's hot, so boiling desert outside and icy ship inside. Just look that this-she must have been a beauty intact, a proper, streamlined deep-spacer."
"I'll remember that when I'm being tortured slowly," Christina replied tartly as she picked her way through the parts littering the floor. "At least I'll be bleeding on the floor of a really well designed ship."
"Don't be so negative." He followed her, still managing to position himself between Christina and the fly alien. "No one's hurt you yet."
A second fly alien waited for them in what looked to have been the ship's cockpit. It conversed with the first briefly before activating what looked like a large purple button on the front of its tan jumpsuit.
"Brilliant," the Doctor said. "I'm the Doctor and this is Christina. It's a telepathic translator," he told her. "They can understand us now."
The aliens chattered at him again and Christina frowned. "Why can't I understand them?"
"It's a one way telepathic translator," he said shortly before turning his attention back to their hosts. "You will suffer for your crimes," he coninued as they chittered and gestured with identical unfamiliar weapons. "Et cetera. You have committed an act of violence against the Tritovores-brilliant, that's them, they're called Tritovores-you came here in the two hundred, to destroy us." He frowned. "Sorry, what? What's the 'two hundred?'"
"The bus," Christina supplied. "It's the number two hundred. They mean the bus."
"Oh!" he exclaimed. "No, look-I think you're making the same mistake as Christina. We didn't come here we were pulled here through a wormhole. The two hundred doesn't look like that normally; it's broken, just like your ship."
The Tritovores conferred for a moment and then lowered their weapons.
Christina shifted subtly closer to the Doctor. "What are they doing?"
"They believe me," he replied with a smile and lowered his hands.
She stared at him. "Just like that?"
"I've got a very honest face." His lips quirked. "And the translator's telling them I'm telling the truth but still-the face."
A quick explanation of their scenario and a kinetic redirect later and the Doctor and Christina sat on the floor of the ship watching images and information scroll over the two large screens in front of the pilot console. The Tritovores were busy behind them checking connections and preparing a probe to investigate the strange storm that loomed ever closer.
"Scorpion nebula," the Doctor said as an image of space flashed across the screen. "Long way from home. Just what you wanted-so far away." The image shifted to a planet with strange symbols underneath that Christina assumed was the Tritovore language. It was so green, like what she imagined Earth must look like from space though with very few oceans, certainly not at all like the desert outside. In fact, for as large as the desert appeared to be there was no corresponding location on the planet before them.
"San Helios," the Doctor continued.
"That's another planet," she said softly, her voice heavy with awe. "We're on another planet."
He glanced at her over the top of his specs. "We have been for quite some time."
She waved him away. "I know, I know. But seeing it like this-it's more real. This could be any desert but that, that is another world."
A grin spread across his face as he returned his attention to the screen. "It's good, isn't it?"
Christina's mouth hung open slightly as the planet morphed into a close-up view of a cityscape. Her eyes were wide as she took in the trees planted in orderly rows, the ship hovering in midair. There were some tall, square building that resembled London high-rises but most of the architecture was completely unfamiliar in a way that Earth cities would never be. "It's wonderful," she agreed.
The aliens behind them chattered and the Doctor nodded. "The Tritovores were going to trade with San Helios. Population of a hundred billion, plenty of waste for them to absorb. That's San Helios city on the screen, the capital."
"Waste?" Christina glanced at their hosts and made a face. "You mean?"
The Doctor pursed his lips. "It's a good system, actually. Sort of like recycling. And anyway-they are flies."
She rolled her eyes. "Charming. Just remind me not to kiss one." They were silent for a moment as more images of the city appeared. "Magnificent," she breathed after a particularly beautiful view of the three suns setting behind the skyline. "But you've seen this sort of thing before, haven't you?"
The Doctor's face was carefully neutral as he leaned back against the cockpit wall. "Might have done, yeah."
Surprised delight and a flicker of smug satisfaction flashed across her face. "You're an alien! I knew it!"
"I'm a Time Lord," he replied. "Don't worry, you don't have to kiss me either. In fact-please don't. Rose gets cross when strangers kiss me."
Christina raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Does that happen often?"
The corners of his lips twitched. "More often than you'd think. About as often as she ends up with a pretty-boy tag-along."
"So, an alien in London?" she asked with a crooked smile. "What, did you settle down? Get a job?"
"I happen to like Earth," he replied. "Always getting into trouble, you lot, but actually-no. Just a stop to visit an old friend while Donna-she travels with Rose and I-had a bit of a date."
"What, so you've got a ship then?"
He snorted. "Of course I do. Be a rubbish Time Lord without one."
"It's funny, though." She leaned forward, studying him intently. "You look human."
He shifted away just a hair, just enough to keep the distance between them the same. "You look Time Lord, actually. Anyway!" The Tritovores returned and the Doctor sprang to his feet and strode to the pilot's console. "Probe's away!" he said gleefully and whirled to face Christina, who remained seated. "Now we wait."
"But if that's San Helios city don't we just have to find them?" she pointed out. "They're here, they can help us!"
The second Tritovore chattered at the Doctor and all the exuberance fled from his face. "I don't think it's that simple." Goosebumps spread down Christina's arms and back. She rubbed her arms-just the cold, that's all it was, not the flat tone of his voice or the way he sagged against the console, like it was the only thing holding him up. "We're in the city now," he continued and closed his eyes.
She stood. "Those pictures must have been taken ages ago, then."
He shook his head. "They were taken last year."
"That's impossible." She stepped forward until she was standing just in front of him. "Tell me that's impossible."
"I said it, didn't I," he mused and the images on the screen changed to the wasteland outside. "There's something in the sand-a hundred billion people. An entire civilization ground down into sand. All the people and plants and wildlife. All those voices in Carmen's head-she's hearing them die. Something destroyed the whole of San Helios."
The wormhole was getting bigger, which should be impossible but his whole life was one impossibility after the other so what was one more added to the stack? And the UNIT commanding officer, captain Magambo, was asking if it posed a threat to Earth. He growled and ran his hands through his hair, desperately trying to think. "How?" he muttered as he paced the cockpit. "How could the wormhole be getting bigger? The amount of energy needed to generate the continuous growth would be astronomical and the TARDIS should have been able to detect a power source that large anywhere on Earth-Oh!" He smacked his forehead. "Oh I'm being thick-of course! Not on Earth, then."
"Doctor?" Christina asked.
"Hmm?" he replied.
She pointed at his coat. "Your pocket's ringing."
"Oh." He pulled the phone out and slid his finger across the screen in a complicated pattern while it blared up-tempo pop music. "Rose? Rose! What is it?"
She took a deep breath. Fifth time was the charm, apparently.
"Doctor, it's the bus," she said as gently as she could. Behind her Angela sobbed.
"It's my fault," the other woman gasped.
Rose shook her head. "No, sweetheart, it's not."
"What about the bus?" he demanded. There was some sort of interference with the line on his end, a crackling static that made her wince.
"It's out of petrol. It must have been low when we came through, the driver would have known, but, well-" She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."
"You promised you'd get us home!" Nathan cried.
"We will," Rose replied firmly.
"Closer," Carmen said, her eyes once again fixed on the approaching storm clouds. "Closer and closer and closer they come-the ones who devour."
"Keep them calm, Rose," the Doctor ordered. "I'm coming."
She nodded before she remembered that he couldn't see her. "I know. We're alright, Doctor. Don't worry. Just get back soon, yeah?"
The Doctor shut the phone and slid it back in his pocket. Christina rounded on him, tension in every line on her face.
"What happened?" she demanded. "What did Rose say?"
He ignored her in favor of the Tritovores, who were chittering excitedly and pointing at the screens in the front of the cockpit. "The probe's reached the storm."
Except it wasn't a storm-it was a swarm. A swarm of aliens that looked part metal part stingray and glided through the sky on wings that were at least three feet across. They converged on the probe like maggots on meat and the last image it reported was a close-up of razor sharp teeth before static flickered across the screens.
Christina shuddered. "So much for the probe."
"Eaten, I would guess," the Doctor agreed.
"There must be millions of them," she said.
He rocked on the balls of his feet. "Billions." His brow furrowed and the corners of his lips pulled down into a frown. "Eaten. Everything on this planet gets eaten. And with the speed they're going they'll be here within the hour."
"Why?" she asked. "Why do they want us?"
"Not us." He leaned forward and stared at the static as if he could will the probe back into existence. "The wormhole. They'll fly through and strip the Earth clean just like San Helios."