FIC: A Busman's Holiday. [Doctor Who | PG | Martha, Ten, Jack 2/2]
Title: A Busman's Holiday
Author: jinxed_wood
Beta: persiflage_1
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 14,400
Characters/Pairings: Martha Jones, Jack Harkness, Ten
Timeline: Set right after the season 3 finale (Last of the Time Lords)
Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the Beeb, all hail the mighty Beeb
A/N:This story is written for, onedergirl29, who won my offer of fanfic, during the help_haiti auction, and generously donated. It is unbelievably late, but it got a bit long and plotty! I'm posting it in two parts, as it's too long for one.
Summary: Jack needs to be rescued, and the Doctor asks Martha to help.
Part one is HERE
PART TWO
The sound of water slipped through the edges of her thoughts; it was not the gentle lapping of water on a beach, or even the roar of waves on a cliff. It was a rhythmic slap, the sound of water disturbed by...oars?
She tried to open her eyes, but the bright light sliced pain through her head. She let out a gasp.
“Martha, don't try to move.” The Doctor's voice sounded low and worried.
She opened her mouth to speak, cringing as she felt all her facial nerves jump as if they were on fire. She spoke through the pain. “Wha...what?”
“You've been hit with a neural lance,” he said lowly. “Slams into your retina, and plays bouncy toy with your nervous system. Don't worry, the effects are not permanent; it'll wear off in another ten minutes, or so, but until then you're going to feel like...well... not well.”
Martha digested that piece of information before forming her next word. “W...where?”
“We're on a oar boat,” he said. “The crew are all character-bots, except for Georgie.”
Martha could tell he was leaving something out, but let it lie. “Wilk..ins?”
“Ah,” the Doctor said. “He's not in a good way, I'm afraid; I think they've deactivated him.” His voice lowered. “I don't think they realise what he is... hopefully, they won't figure it out, or they might try to erase his personality construct.”
The AI version of death, Martha thought, as she tried to open her eyes a sliver. The light was still unbearably harsh, but at least she didn't want to vomit any more. The brightness coalesced into a sky above them. It was a light powder blue, without even the slightest hint of rain. A head swam into view. It was the Doctor, an anxious look on his face. Oh, not good.
“I guess the storm has passed,” she said hoarsely. “And, oh look, I can string an entire sentence together without wanting to scream.”
“Bet it still tingles, though - and not in a good way.”
Martha laughed, and then winced as pain lashed through her abdomen and chest. “Ouch.”
He absently squeezed her shoulder. “We're nearly there,” he murmured.
“Nearly where?”
“At their secret hideaway base, apparently,” he said. “Which is funny, because I don't see any land...well... anywhere.”
“Huh?” Martha asked. “Okay, that's it, help me sit up. I need to see what's going on!”
“Martha--”
“Don't you Martha me, Mister! Just sit me up.”
Hands slid down her back, as he gently lifted her. The pain was still excruciating, but she held it in; she knew he'd insist she lay still if she cried out. At last, she was in a sitting position - well, sort of, it would be more accurate to say she was propped up against the Doctor's shoulder. She took a shallow breath, and then another, as she waited for the pain to subside and her vision to clear again.
Two rows of backs were ahead of her, strong arms pulling at large, coarse oars. They wore leather and wool, and furs, and their long, braided hair spilled from under their helmets. Martha blinked, and then peered again. She must be seeing things.
“They're character-bots,” the Doctor murmured. “A real Viking wouldn't be seen dead in a boat this shoddily built - look at the amount of water in the bilge.”
“Have they said anything?” Martha asked lowly, as she eyed them.
“I don't think they can speak; class twos, I think.” The Doctor sighed. “I'm beginning to suspect your friend Georgie may not be human, either - class five, I think.” He indicated the stern of the ship. George stood, ramrod straight, staring over the prow of the longboat. He didn't twitch, he didn't move a finger, Martha wasn't even sure he swayed with the ship
Martha eyed him, wondering how she ever thought he was human. “Eugenie?” she asked.
The Doctor shrugged. “If I had to guess, I'd lean towards human,” he said quietly. “But you never quite know.”
“How long was I out?”
“'Bout half an hour,” the Doctor said.
“Has he say anything?”
“Not to me, but I heard him talking through his communicator to someone. He was giving coordinates.”
Martha sighed. “I thought there wasn't supposed to be anything on this planet's surface.”
The Doctor hummed under his breath for a moment. “Yeah, well, there's always things falling through the cracks, aren't there - loopholes.”
“Where is Wilkins?”
“Under the tarpaulin at George's feet,” the Doctor said. “It was that what gave old Georgie away, really; he barely gave us a second glance, and went straight for Wilkins - the only threat on board, as far as he was concerned, see?”
“I'm beginning to,” Martha said grimly.”But what I don't see is what he thinks he'll get out of all this--”
The boat heaved, and Martha's weight pressed into the Doctor's side as the boat tilted. The sea swelled and broke, and Martha watched, stunned, as a golden tower broke the water. It rose, and rose, casting a shadow over the boat, until the glinting broadsides of the rest of the submarine heaved above the surface. Water drenched them, and slopped into the boat's bilge.
“Well...wow,” the Doctor said, as he wiped salt water from his face, “That's pretty spectacular, actually.”
“Who the hell is running this operation? Captain Nemo?”
The Doctor gave her a wide, gaping grin. “Oh, that's good, that; very witty.”
Martha smirked back, despite herself. Her face tingled unpleasantly, but the pain seemed to be easing. She gave her hand an experimental wiggle. “I think the neural lance thingy is wearing off.”
The submarine gave out a low boom, and the boat's oars fell instantly still.
“Just in time for what comes next,” the Doctor said under his breath. “Usually, I'd suggest running for it, but our only options seem to be the submarine or a long dip - how good is your doggy paddle?”
“I'd give myself about three lengths,” Martha admitted.
“Right,” the Doctor said. “So I guess we can cross swimming for it off the list.”
Martha rolled her eyes. “Come on, help me to my feet.”
The both weaved precariously, as she stood and George abruptly bent down and attached a gadget the size of a matchbox onto the tarpaulin covering Wilkins. There was a flash of light, and the AI disappeared. George turned and stalked towards them, and Martha felt the Doctor's arms tighten around her shoulders as he approached.
“Prepare for short beam transmat,” he said flatly, as he slapped another one of the gadgets to the Doctor's arm, and hers.
The Doctor straightened. “I don't suppose we could have a wee chat about-” Light flashed. “- about this.” The Doctor sighed. “Guess not, then.”
Martha blinked as her eyes tried to adjust to the murky light and their new environs. They were in a small enclosed room, facing a heavy hatch door. “We're in the submarine, aren't we? What part, do you think?”
“The brig,” a third, familiar voice drawled from behind them. “Welcome to the party.”
“Jack!” Martha exclaimed, swirling around. “Oh, thank goodness, we were worried.”
“We came to rescue you and everything!” the Doctor said.
“Hit a bit of an impasse, have you?” Jack asked teasingly, grinning as Martha gave him a hug.
The Doctor waved his hand dismissively ”What? This? More of a hitch, really - a minor hiccup - we'll have you out of here in no time...well, maybe a little bit more of time.”
“You know, as rescues go, this leaves much to be desired,” Jack said.
“Everybody is a critic,” the Doctor sniffed.
The tarpaulin in the corner of the room moved, and a hand reached out from beneath it. The cloth was pulled down, revealing the scowling features of Wilkins. “Sorry to interrupt this touching reunion, but I think it may be in our best interests to escape as soon as possible.”
“Wilkins!” the Doctor grinned. “I thought they deactivated you!”
“I am Orion made, Doctor Smith,” Wilkins pointed out impatiently.
“Ah yes, the automatic reboot back up,” the Doctor said. “I forgot about that.”
Wilkins pushed off the tarpaulin and got to his feet. “The renegade AI is obviously unaware of my manufacturing origins,” he said. “I suggest we take advantage of their ignorance.”
“Class six?” Jack muttered, out of the corner of his mouth.
“How did you know?” Martha asked.
“The sparkling wit and bubbly personality,” Jack said.
“You forgot to mention the excellent hearing,” Wilkins said acidly.
“Oh, I can see this is going to be fun,” Martha said.
The Doctor grinned goofily. “Yes, it is rather fun, isn't it?”
“I think Martha may have been using sarcasm, Doctor,” Jack pointed out gently.
“Oh. Right. Of course,” his face dropped.
“Why do they call you Doctor?” Wilkins suddenly asked.
“Because it's my name,” he mumbled absently, before he remembered his alias. “As in Doctor Smith, Doctor John Smith.
Martha bit her lip, trying not to laugh, and Wilkins levitated into the air and raised a solitary eyebrow. “We shall discuss this later,” it said, “After I've released us from this room, and acquired suitable back up for this operation.”
“What? We're not good enough for you?” the Doctor asked, pouting.
The AI gave him a long look. “I think it's best if I don't answer that,” it eventually said. “Please stand against the back wall.” Wilkins pointed a finger at the heavy hatch door, and Jack and the Doctor leapt to Martha's side and grabbed an arm each.
“Oi!” Martha yelped, as they dragged her to the back of the cell.
“Cover your ears,” the Doctor said.
Martha rolled her eyes, but did so, as a red beam of light emitted from Wilkins's forefinger and slammed into the hatch door. A high pitched screech rattled the air, making Martha's teeth ache. The metal hatch slowly turned red with heat, and began to melt away.
“Blimey,” Martha yelled, over the din. “I'm glad he figured out we weren't the bad guys on the shuttle, I wouldn't have liked to be on the business end of that.”
“Oh, it wouldn't have come to that,” the Doctor said. “He probably would have just disabled us with a sonic wave emission.”
Martha raised an eyebrow. “How big is his arsenal?”
“Lets just say I'm very happy he's on our side,” the Doctor said brightly, as Wilkins turned off the laser, and turned on another beam, this time bright green. The edges of the now gaping hatch hissed and popped as they became coated in ice.
“After you,” said an amused Jack as he gestured at the door.
“Oh no, after you, I insist,”Martha shot back.
“I swear, you two,” the Doctor sighed as he ducked through the hole. “If it's not one thing, it's the other - oh.” Slowly, the Doctor raised his hands into the air, and Martha groaned.
“You've got to be kidding me,” she said.
“Nope, afraid not,” the Doctor said.
"So much for my grand rescue,” Jack drawled.
Wilkins blinked, and then, with an exaggerated finger to the lips, rose to the ceiling, Martha tried not to follow him with her eyes as the Doctor slowly backed away from the hatch, and Eugenie stepped into view, smiling widely as she trained her weapon on Martha.
“Why, if it isn't our dear Martha, long time no see - been catching up with your friend Jack here, I see?”
“Oh, yeah,” Martha said. “He's been filling me in on all the recent gossip; who's the good guy, who's the bad guy... who's the one pretending to be the other.”
Eugenie's fake smile didn't falter. “Ah, the wit, the banter; I shall be sorry to be rid of you,” she said.
“Tell me, do you practice at sounding like a bad script from a B movie, or is it a gift?” Martha asked sweetly.
“How about you shut that trap of yours, and step out into the hall - keep your hands where I can see them.”
Martha raised her hands and ducked through the breached door, ignoring the Doctor's bright grin and fluttering hand wave, as she eyed the three crewmen who were aiming energy weapons at their chests. She couldn't figure out if they were human or AIs.
“Now you, pretty boy,” Eugenie said, to Jack.
Jack smirked. “See? I knew you liked me," he said, as he stepped into the hallway.
Martha noted that Eugenie's eyes hadn't even rested on the canvas sheet in the corner of the cell. Which was a good thing, as the sheet looked suspiciously flat, even under casual examination. The Doctor was right, they didn't have a clue what Wilkins was. She hoped that the futuristic robot cops from the Orion belt had a thing about the whole 'protect and serve' part of the job, although her only real experience with an alien police force - the Judoon - didn't exactly fill her with confidence.
“Keep your hands up, and start moving,” Eugenie said, gesturing at them to walk.
“Please tell me you have a plan B?” Jack said, under his breath.
“Let's just see where the wind takes us for a while,” the Doctor murmured back. “I want to know what they're up to.”
“Oh great, a foraging expedition, just what we need,” Martha muttered. A gun prodded the middle of her back.
“Stop talking, and keep walking,” Eugenie said.
“Ah, just like old times,” Jack drawled. “Now all I need is a few more chains, and a few rounds of torture, and I'll feel right at home.”
“I could really do with a chip, right now,” the Doctor said, out of the blue. “Oh look, what have we here?”
The corridor opened up into an large, open space, at least four stories high. Balconies and ramps decorated the walls, and Martha's mouth gaped open, as she noted the armed men occupying them. A pillar rose from the center of the room, which seemed to consist of old, piled up computer banks and monitors.
It seemed strangely incongruous in the room..
“Well, that is different,” the Doctor said, eyeing it. “What does it do, exactly, run Vista?” The screens sprang to life and begin to glow a bright pink. Electricity fizzled and sparked along the wiring that cobbled it all together. The Doctor pitched his head to the side. “Okay, not produced at Intel, then,” he murmured softly.
A beam of pink light shot from one of the screens, and a holographic image coalesced in front of them.
“Doctor,” Martha said lowly.
“I know, kind of freaky, isn't it?” the Doctor, as he looked at this holographic double.
“Well, Atrixa 4 is a water world, you know,” the hologram Doctor said, his voice oddly hollow.
“Well, that made absolutely no sense,” Jack said.
“They had to import all the dry land, and as it would cost the earth - aha - to actually terraform real islands, they Constructed a series of floating islands instead, except then the nature conservationists pointed out that all those floating islands couldn't be very good for the local marine life,” the hologram said.
“Wait,” Martha said. “You said that to me, back when we first arrived; it's parroting bits of our conversation back at us.”
“It must have been spying on us,” the Doctor said. “Maybe using the planet's satellite system-”
“Nah, that one went out centuries ago,” the hologram said. “You can look yourself up, but nobody else. Too many many bad guys were using the signal as a bullseye.”
The Doctor's eyes narrowed. “How, then?” he asked.
The hologram blurred, and then coalesced into a different form. It was the holographic confederate soldier from the holiday island. “You all come back now,” it said.
“Well, how do you do? And what are you when you are at home, my beauty,” the Doctor said, stepping forward as he took out his glasses, and propped them on his nose. Martha could hear the fascination in his voice.
“Touch it and I'll kill you,” Eugenie said, her ever present smile suddenly slipping.
“All right, all right,” the Doctor said placatingly, as he took a step back. Martha bit her lip as she noticed his hand slip into his pocket. The one in which he kept his sonic screwdriver.
“So what does it do, then?” she piped up, pulling Eugenie's attention away from the Doctor. “Is it sentient?”
“You, my dear, couldn't even begin to understand what the Construct is,” Eugenie said. “So don't even try.”
“Oh, that wasn't supercilious and condescending at all,” Martha drawled.
“It's a level seven AI prototype,” said a crisp voice behind them. Martha turned to see Wilkins hovering there, his hands transformed into two rather nasty looking weapons. “Stolen from the Haiko Intellect laboratory.”
“Ah,” the Doctor said. “Orion's top AI creation lab - I should have known that INTERSTELP wouldn't have sent one of their top agents to check out a spot of petty pirating, especially one with a level six cortex.”
Eugenie's eyes lit up. “Level six?” Her eyes went up and down Wilkins's body and, for a moment, Wilkins looked vaguely uncomfortable.
“Ahhh,” the Doctor said. “Now I've got it - you have a level seven prototype mind, but no body to go with it, am I right? Those level four and five mainframe bodies are not quite able to hack the neural pathways, are they?”
“Very good, Doctor,” Eugenie said. “Full marks. However, with both the technology you and your friend Jack here possess, along with the rather fortuitous addition of a level six mainframe body, I can safely say that my troubles may soon be over.
“Oh, I doubt that,” the Doctor said quietly. “Quite the opposite, actually.”
“Put your weapons down,” Wilkins said. “Or I may be forced to take action.”
“And what action would that be, copper?” Eugenie asked “Systematically killing every member of my crew that gets in your way, while hoping a stray bullet doesn't hit one of your friends here?”
The crewmen on the gangway above began to shift on their feet, and Martha heard the whir of activating weapons. Martha came to the rather belated realisation that she, standing between the Doctor and Jack, was the only one in danger of not walking away from this alive.
The sonic screwdriver the Doctor had palmed in his hand began to hum. “Hold on,” he said, and then the room turned white.
Martha blinked as she realised Eugenie and the crewmen had disappeared, and they were in a completely different part of the submarine. Pipes hissed and crackled ominously around them, and they seemed to be in some sort of service tunnel.
“I hijacked their transmat system and triggered a shortwave transfer beam,” the Doctor said. “Pity I couldn't take Wilkins with me, but he left his transmat location emitter back in the brig, attached to the canvas sheeting. Which reminds me, I think I've figured out a way to get us off the sub alive, but we'll need to find the communications room - let's find another terminal!”
“But what about Wilkins?” Martha asked.
“I'd be more worried about us,” the Doctor said firmly. “Wilkins is more that able to defend himself, or did you think those anti-grav forcefields of his only helped him float?”
“And what about the the level seven AI mind matrix?” Jack asked.
“Ah, that might be more problematic,” the Doctor admitted. “You realise, of course, that level seven AI mind matrices were never designed to be incorporated into human type avatars?”
“Hard to forget,” Jack drawled.
“Hello? Twentieth first century human, here,” Martha said. “Care to fill me in?”
“Well, to make a long story...well...medium sized... we're now about fifty years after the last of the AI wars,” the Doctor said, scratching his head, before leading them down a tunnel. “INTERSTELP was set up about fifteen years ago, as a sort of interstellar police force that not only patrolled subspace travel corridors, but also made sure that both sides of the old conflict, human and AI, followed the accords and didn't try to stir up old differences again - and it worked! So much so, you can now find AIs on human colonies, and humans living in the Orion system. Peace and Harmony, etcetera, etcetera.”
Martha raised an eyebrow. “And what has that got to do with the level seven mind matrix?” she asked.
“Well, during the war, the Orion Alliance was primarily focused on winning the war. Level four and five AIs were the norm - worker and soldier AIs - with a few level sixes for battle and logistics planning. After the war, however, level four Construction were discontinued, and those that were left were repurposed to work in peace time. Level fives, of course, are sentient - about the same IQ as an average human - so they had a say in their future; they're also still in Construction, albeit at a vastly reduced rate. Level six production, however, has doubled since the war, and they've become the lynch pin in the Human AI peace accords.” The Doctor drew breath, and then grinned. “Ah look, an access panel!” he whipped out his sonic screwdriver, and the panel fell from the wall, smoking slightly. “Ah, shoddy craftsmanship.”.
“Hello, Earth calling the Doctor? You've still not told me what all the fuss is about with the level seven matrix!” Martha said, exasperated, as the Doctor stuck his head into the access panel.
“Uumm, oh, right!” he said, his voice sounding tinny coming from inside the access panel. “Well, you see, from the beginning Orion AIs were designed to look human - roughly human, anyway - and what began as hubris quickly turned into habit, even when humans stopped building them and the AIs started creating themselves. During the war, their human design helped them infiltrate enemy lines, and after the war their humanoid form reassured the human population, but now...well...the Orion worlds have decided it's time to evolve in their own direction - and the level seven AIs are their first step.” He took his head out of the panel. “See?”
Martha folded her arms. “Not even remotely.”
“Oh, well, then,” the Doctor said, “I'll explain later.” There was another flash, and they had moved location again, the Doctor had spun on this feet and dashed to the nearest bank of controls.
“Sometimes, I really want to strangle him,” Martha said.
“Get in line,” Jack drawled. “Although, if you really want to know what happened after the Orion war, I can fill you in.”
Martha whirled to look at him “You can?”
“Hey, ex-time agent, remember?”
“How can I forget,” Martha said, with a grin. “Spill.”
“Well, after the war, the Orion AIs wanted to spread their wings, so they created a new sort of AI, one that wasn't created for human form.” He leaned in and murmured. “The level sevens were ship minds, first of their kind. They're meant to be integrated into Orion's first intergalactic super-ships - I saw one, once, absolutely amazing.”
Martha frowned. “But Eugenie thinks it can be integrated into a humanoid AI.”
“Eugenie thinks wrong,” Jack muttered. “My guess is that she came across it by accident and knew it was valuable, but didn't realise it's true potential.”
“But she must suspect,” Martha said, her mind flashing back to the AI's pillar of wires and old tech. “She must know something is a bit off about it.”
"Humans in this time period don't have much contact with nascent AIs,” Jack said, “It's quite possible she's convinced herself it's quite normal.”
Martha frowned, “Why is it I get the feeling I'm missing a rather big bit of the plot here?”
The Doctor looked up from the console. “It's a baby,” he said. “It's not fully matured, and has limited neural networking. It's trying to connect with a ship that doesn't have the technology to accept it, so it has created a bridge between them, using whatever junk that came its way. It's sad, really.”
“And Eugenie doesn't know what's going on?” Martha said. “How is that possible? I mean, how did the AI get its supplies to create its....bridge?”
“Look around you, Martha.” The Doctor waved his hands in the air. “What is the first thing you noticed when you were captured, what does this crew have an abundance of?”
Martha groaned as realisation struck. “Other AIs - it's communicating with the other AIs.”
“Isn't it brilliant?” The Doctor grinned. “Of course, you realise what this means?”
“Lets just assume I don't, and you can tell me,” Martha said.
“It means that Eugenie isn't as in charge as she thinks she is,” the Doctor said knowingly.
“That might not necessarily be a good thing,” Jack said.
“Yeah, that thought has occurred to me, too,” the Doctor said, as he finished whatever he was doing at the console. “Which is why I think it might be a good idea to go back for Wilkins. We don't have much time.”He pressed a seemingly random button on the console, and a slot opened. Inside it was a new batch of transmat emitters. “Just in case,” he said, pocketing them, and then the transmat beam flashed again.
It was clear that things hadn't gone well since they'd left.
“Hit the deck,” Jack roared, throwing himself on Martha. They both hit the metal flooring with a loud clang, and Martha struggled for both a breath and a look at what was going on around her. The smell of burning metal filled the air, and the sound of weapons fire nearly deafened her. Smoke filled the room, making it hard to see.
“Keep your head down!” Jack said.
“I can't bloody see - or breath!”
“Are you saying I'm putting on weight?”
“Jack!””
“Hey, you two, stop gabbing and follow me!” said the Doctor, his voice coming from her left. “And keep your heads down, you don't want to lose them.”
“Is it just me, or has he gotten crankier,” Jack muttered into her ear, before lifting his weight from her back.
Martha pulled in a deep breath of air, and nearly choked as smoke crept into her lungs. She waved Jack's hand away and crawled after the Doctor. She eventually caught up with him when he paused to examine an electrical wire that crossed their path.
“Hmm, interesting,” he said. “Biomolecular nanotechnology - self healing circuitry. Not as old fashioned as I first thought.”
“Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?” Martha asked.
“I haven't quite figured that part out yet,” the Doctor said admitted.
A foot stepped in their way, and Martha and the Doctor looked at each other, before looking up.
“On your feet,”Eugenie said, her face furious. “Before I remove them from your body.” Slowly, they stood, as she looked behind them. “Where's your friend Jack?” she asked brusquely. “Never mind,” she added, as they remained silent. “Construct! Engage air filters, double strength!” The air began to clear and, a few feet to her left, Jack also rose.
Eugenie smirked, “I'm not sure what you thought you'd accomplish returning, but I'm so glad you did,” she said, before raising her voice. “Wilkins! Cease firing or I'll kill your little human friends!”
“Is it just me, or is anyone else getting a feeling of deja vu?” Martha murmured. The sound of weapons fire faded nearly as quickly as the smoke, and she spotted a groaning body on the floor beside her and crouched. “This man needs medical attention,” she said. “Have you a sick bay?”
“Be quiet!” Eugenie hissed, as her eyes eyed the room. “Where is he gone?”
“Where's who gone?” the Doctor asked brightly..
“You know who I'm talking about, that damned INTERSTELP agent,” she demanded. “Construct! Instruct all level four AIs to assemble here, full armaments!”
“Doctor,” Jack said warningly.
"Give it a minute,” the Doctor said, as he eyed the Construct. Wires fizzed and crackled, but it seemed peculiarly unharmed by the fire fight that had just taken place.
The doors hissed open, and the Vikings from the boat marched into the room. Martha wondered where Wilkins had disappeared to, and then an idea occurred to her as she remembered how he'd avoided detection in the Brig. She felt the familiar pressure of the Doctor's hand squeezing hers, and knew he'd already figured it out.
“Level Fours, listen to my instructions,” Eugenie barked. “V1 through 3, keep your armaments trained on these three at all times. If they resist, kill them, if they try to escape, kill them. Is that clear?” she asked.
The first three AIs nodded abruptly, before stepping forward and aiming their weapons. Martha raised her hands. She hoped the Doctor's plan worked.
The hull shuddered ominously, and Martha eyed it warily as the floor under her feet tilted incrementally. She risked a glance at the Doctor, who looked smug. Ah, part of the plan then...she really wished he'd filled her in. The submarine groaned as the floor tilted, and Martha clung to Jack, who clung to a console, in order to stop herself sliding across the floor. The Doctor seemed unaffected,. Eugenie glared at the Doctor as she clutched at the AI beside her. “What have you done?”
“Who, me?” the Doctor said, with a shrug. “Just had a little conversation with your Construct, that's all. You know, she's really quite chatty-”
One by one, the lights in the control room went out. First the lights in the ceiling and walls, and then the emergency strip lights in the floor. A few moments later, the only light in the room came from the Construct's screens, and even they were growing dim. The whine of the air filters slowed, and then stopped. The AIs froze, and went silent.
Eugenie's face, lit by the faint glow of the Construct, was a picture of terror. “We're going to run out of air,” she said. “What did you do?”
“Oh, it'll be a few hours yet before you're in trouble,” the Doctor said breezily. “Plenty of time to fix it.”
“But the engines have stopped, we can't surface.”
“Well, I guess you'll have to do it manually,” the Doctor said.
“We can't, the Construct runs the engine room. The Construct runs everything! We'd have to...we'd have to...” She stared at the Doctor.
“You'd have to disconnect it, yes,” the Doctor said quietly. “Did you really think that they'd let you keep her. She's sentient, and she wants to be free. This isn't freedom for her. This is a cage. She wants to be let go.”
“No,” Eugenie said shaking her head. “No, she wants me to help her. That why she showed me you. That's why she showed me your friend Jack here. She wanted me to find you, because you had what I needed. She helped me.”
“Is that what you think happened here?” the Doctor asked, almost gently. “She didn't bring us here to help you, Eugenie, she brought us here, to rescue her. It was a cry for help. To help her get away from you.”
“No!” Eugenie said. “You're wrong.”
“I don't think so,” the Doctor said, “What do you think, Wilkins?”
The air beside the Doctor blurred, and the AI suddenly appeared. “How did you know I was there?”
“Because half of my left foot has been missing for the last thirty seconds, and as I wasn't rolling around in agony, I figured it was an illusion. You really should pull your shields in tighter when you use that trick.”
“I'll keep that in mind,” Wilkins said. “What did you do, Doctor?”
“I hacked into the sub's communication station and had a chat with the Construct,” the Doctor said simply. “When I explained to her my plan, she seemed eager to help. She shut down the submarine and the COM relay to the satellites above. Your surveillance should now be able to find us. Congratulations, you've just saved the day.”
Wilkins gave him a long look. “Tell me, Doctor, when I get home, and access the INTERSTELP information logs. What would I find, if I entered your name?”
The Doctor shrugged. “That I'm a good swimmer?” he ventured.
“You're not going to be here, when the rescue services arrive, are you?”
“Nope, afraid not,” the Doctor said.
Martha raised an eyebrow at that. “Why is that?” she asked.
The Doctor grinned. “I used the satellite to boost the transmat emitters,” he said, and then the world went white again. Martha staggered as she found herself on level ground once more.
Jack laughed, as he took a deep breath. “Ah, clean, open air,” he said. “Just what the Doctor ordered,
The Doctor gave him a knowing smirk. “Next time you want to forget your troubles, just pick a good bar,” he said.
“Speaking of which,” Jack said, “I know a really good place, that serves a perfect Cosmopolitan, out by the Fortean belt...”
“Oh no,” Martha said. “I have a life to get back to! I have a job interview with UNIT.”
Jack gave a snort. “I don't see why you won't come work for me,” he said. He then pouted. Martha decided that was dirty pool.
"I'm not going to work for Torchwood, Jack,” she said firmly.
The Doctor and Jack shared a glance, and Martha put her hands on her hips. “Oh no you don't,” she declared. “You're not allowed to gang up on me with the significant look.”
“I don't know why not,” Jack said. “It seems to be working a treat...what do you think, Doctor?
“I think I might quite like a Daiquiri at this moment,” the Doctor observed. “Cosmopolitans were never really my thing.”
“Not going to happen,” Martha said firmly. Jack gave her a coy smile, which was rather unnervingly echoed by the Doctor. “Nuh-uh,” she added, rather half heartedly.
“Oh, come on, Martha,” the Doctor said, “Just one trip...”
~~~*~***~*~~~
Hilda Redgreen was a very annoyed woman. She had managed Tara for over six years, and not once - not once - had she lost an entire shuttle. She wasn't about to let them get away with it!
“Are you sure it was them,” she asked the AI, as she hurried across the lawn.
“Their brochures confirm their identities,” he said.
Hilda Redgreen raised her skirts and ran. In the distance, she could see the three of them standing in front of a peculiar blue box that marred the lines of her perfectly manicured lawn. They were clutched in some sort of group embrace or hug and hadn't noticed her yet. So, it was like that, was it?
She redoubled her pace, and called out, “Hey, you there!” But they ignored her, as they stepped into the blue box. A low thrumming noise filled the air as the box faded from view, and Hilda stumbled to a halt. This could not be happening to her. She had such a perfect record!
Beside her, a sad looking confederate soldier hologram popped into being. “Good bye, Doctor,” he said. “And thank you.”
~~FINIS~~
Author: jinxed_wood
Beta: persiflage_1
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 14,400
Characters/Pairings: Martha Jones, Jack Harkness, Ten
Timeline: Set right after the season 3 finale (Last of the Time Lords)
Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the Beeb, all hail the mighty Beeb
A/N:This story is written for, onedergirl29, who won my offer of fanfic, during the help_haiti auction, and generously donated. It is unbelievably late, but it got a bit long and plotty! I'm posting it in two parts, as it's too long for one.
Summary: Jack needs to be rescued, and the Doctor asks Martha to help.
Part one is HERE
PART TWO
The sound of water slipped through the edges of her thoughts; it was not the gentle lapping of water on a beach, or even the roar of waves on a cliff. It was a rhythmic slap, the sound of water disturbed by...oars?
She tried to open her eyes, but the bright light sliced pain through her head. She let out a gasp.
“Martha, don't try to move.” The Doctor's voice sounded low and worried.
She opened her mouth to speak, cringing as she felt all her facial nerves jump as if they were on fire. She spoke through the pain. “Wha...what?”
“You've been hit with a neural lance,” he said lowly. “Slams into your retina, and plays bouncy toy with your nervous system. Don't worry, the effects are not permanent; it'll wear off in another ten minutes, or so, but until then you're going to feel like...well... not well.”
Martha digested that piece of information before forming her next word. “W...where?”
“We're on a oar boat,” he said. “The crew are all character-bots, except for Georgie.”
Martha could tell he was leaving something out, but let it lie. “Wilk..ins?”
“Ah,” the Doctor said. “He's not in a good way, I'm afraid; I think they've deactivated him.” His voice lowered. “I don't think they realise what he is... hopefully, they won't figure it out, or they might try to erase his personality construct.”
The AI version of death, Martha thought, as she tried to open her eyes a sliver. The light was still unbearably harsh, but at least she didn't want to vomit any more. The brightness coalesced into a sky above them. It was a light powder blue, without even the slightest hint of rain. A head swam into view. It was the Doctor, an anxious look on his face. Oh, not good.
“I guess the storm has passed,” she said hoarsely. “And, oh look, I can string an entire sentence together without wanting to scream.”
“Bet it still tingles, though - and not in a good way.”
Martha laughed, and then winced as pain lashed through her abdomen and chest. “Ouch.”
He absently squeezed her shoulder. “We're nearly there,” he murmured.
“Nearly where?”
“At their secret hideaway base, apparently,” he said. “Which is funny, because I don't see any land...well... anywhere.”
“Huh?” Martha asked. “Okay, that's it, help me sit up. I need to see what's going on!”
“Martha--”
“Don't you Martha me, Mister! Just sit me up.”
Hands slid down her back, as he gently lifted her. The pain was still excruciating, but she held it in; she knew he'd insist she lay still if she cried out. At last, she was in a sitting position - well, sort of, it would be more accurate to say she was propped up against the Doctor's shoulder. She took a shallow breath, and then another, as she waited for the pain to subside and her vision to clear again.
Two rows of backs were ahead of her, strong arms pulling at large, coarse oars. They wore leather and wool, and furs, and their long, braided hair spilled from under their helmets. Martha blinked, and then peered again. She must be seeing things.
“They're character-bots,” the Doctor murmured. “A real Viking wouldn't be seen dead in a boat this shoddily built - look at the amount of water in the bilge.”
“Have they said anything?” Martha asked lowly, as she eyed them.
“I don't think they can speak; class twos, I think.” The Doctor sighed. “I'm beginning to suspect your friend Georgie may not be human, either - class five, I think.” He indicated the stern of the ship. George stood, ramrod straight, staring over the prow of the longboat. He didn't twitch, he didn't move a finger, Martha wasn't even sure he swayed with the ship
Martha eyed him, wondering how she ever thought he was human. “Eugenie?” she asked.
The Doctor shrugged. “If I had to guess, I'd lean towards human,” he said quietly. “But you never quite know.”
“How long was I out?”
“'Bout half an hour,” the Doctor said.
“Has he say anything?”
“Not to me, but I heard him talking through his communicator to someone. He was giving coordinates.”
Martha sighed. “I thought there wasn't supposed to be anything on this planet's surface.”
The Doctor hummed under his breath for a moment. “Yeah, well, there's always things falling through the cracks, aren't there - loopholes.”
“Where is Wilkins?”
“Under the tarpaulin at George's feet,” the Doctor said. “It was that what gave old Georgie away, really; he barely gave us a second glance, and went straight for Wilkins - the only threat on board, as far as he was concerned, see?”
“I'm beginning to,” Martha said grimly.”But what I don't see is what he thinks he'll get out of all this--”
The boat heaved, and Martha's weight pressed into the Doctor's side as the boat tilted. The sea swelled and broke, and Martha watched, stunned, as a golden tower broke the water. It rose, and rose, casting a shadow over the boat, until the glinting broadsides of the rest of the submarine heaved above the surface. Water drenched them, and slopped into the boat's bilge.
“Well...wow,” the Doctor said, as he wiped salt water from his face, “That's pretty spectacular, actually.”
“Who the hell is running this operation? Captain Nemo?”
The Doctor gave her a wide, gaping grin. “Oh, that's good, that; very witty.”
Martha smirked back, despite herself. Her face tingled unpleasantly, but the pain seemed to be easing. She gave her hand an experimental wiggle. “I think the neural lance thingy is wearing off.”
The submarine gave out a low boom, and the boat's oars fell instantly still.
“Just in time for what comes next,” the Doctor said under his breath. “Usually, I'd suggest running for it, but our only options seem to be the submarine or a long dip - how good is your doggy paddle?”
“I'd give myself about three lengths,” Martha admitted.
“Right,” the Doctor said. “So I guess we can cross swimming for it off the list.”
Martha rolled her eyes. “Come on, help me to my feet.”
The both weaved precariously, as she stood and George abruptly bent down and attached a gadget the size of a matchbox onto the tarpaulin covering Wilkins. There was a flash of light, and the AI disappeared. George turned and stalked towards them, and Martha felt the Doctor's arms tighten around her shoulders as he approached.
“Prepare for short beam transmat,” he said flatly, as he slapped another one of the gadgets to the Doctor's arm, and hers.
The Doctor straightened. “I don't suppose we could have a wee chat about-” Light flashed. “- about this.” The Doctor sighed. “Guess not, then.”
Martha blinked as her eyes tried to adjust to the murky light and their new environs. They were in a small enclosed room, facing a heavy hatch door. “We're in the submarine, aren't we? What part, do you think?”
“The brig,” a third, familiar voice drawled from behind them. “Welcome to the party.”
“Jack!” Martha exclaimed, swirling around. “Oh, thank goodness, we were worried.”
“We came to rescue you and everything!” the Doctor said.
“Hit a bit of an impasse, have you?” Jack asked teasingly, grinning as Martha gave him a hug.
The Doctor waved his hand dismissively ”What? This? More of a hitch, really - a minor hiccup - we'll have you out of here in no time...well, maybe a little bit more of time.”
“You know, as rescues go, this leaves much to be desired,” Jack said.
“Everybody is a critic,” the Doctor sniffed.
The tarpaulin in the corner of the room moved, and a hand reached out from beneath it. The cloth was pulled down, revealing the scowling features of Wilkins. “Sorry to interrupt this touching reunion, but I think it may be in our best interests to escape as soon as possible.”
“Wilkins!” the Doctor grinned. “I thought they deactivated you!”
“I am Orion made, Doctor Smith,” Wilkins pointed out impatiently.
“Ah yes, the automatic reboot back up,” the Doctor said. “I forgot about that.”
Wilkins pushed off the tarpaulin and got to his feet. “The renegade AI is obviously unaware of my manufacturing origins,” he said. “I suggest we take advantage of their ignorance.”
“Class six?” Jack muttered, out of the corner of his mouth.
“How did you know?” Martha asked.
“The sparkling wit and bubbly personality,” Jack said.
“You forgot to mention the excellent hearing,” Wilkins said acidly.
“Oh, I can see this is going to be fun,” Martha said.
The Doctor grinned goofily. “Yes, it is rather fun, isn't it?”
“I think Martha may have been using sarcasm, Doctor,” Jack pointed out gently.
“Oh. Right. Of course,” his face dropped.
“Why do they call you Doctor?” Wilkins suddenly asked.
“Because it's my name,” he mumbled absently, before he remembered his alias. “As in Doctor Smith, Doctor John Smith.
Martha bit her lip, trying not to laugh, and Wilkins levitated into the air and raised a solitary eyebrow. “We shall discuss this later,” it said, “After I've released us from this room, and acquired suitable back up for this operation.”
“What? We're not good enough for you?” the Doctor asked, pouting.
The AI gave him a long look. “I think it's best if I don't answer that,” it eventually said. “Please stand against the back wall.” Wilkins pointed a finger at the heavy hatch door, and Jack and the Doctor leapt to Martha's side and grabbed an arm each.
“Oi!” Martha yelped, as they dragged her to the back of the cell.
“Cover your ears,” the Doctor said.
Martha rolled her eyes, but did so, as a red beam of light emitted from Wilkins's forefinger and slammed into the hatch door. A high pitched screech rattled the air, making Martha's teeth ache. The metal hatch slowly turned red with heat, and began to melt away.
“Blimey,” Martha yelled, over the din. “I'm glad he figured out we weren't the bad guys on the shuttle, I wouldn't have liked to be on the business end of that.”
“Oh, it wouldn't have come to that,” the Doctor said. “He probably would have just disabled us with a sonic wave emission.”
Martha raised an eyebrow. “How big is his arsenal?”
“Lets just say I'm very happy he's on our side,” the Doctor said brightly, as Wilkins turned off the laser, and turned on another beam, this time bright green. The edges of the now gaping hatch hissed and popped as they became coated in ice.
“After you,” said an amused Jack as he gestured at the door.
“Oh no, after you, I insist,”Martha shot back.
“I swear, you two,” the Doctor sighed as he ducked through the hole. “If it's not one thing, it's the other - oh.” Slowly, the Doctor raised his hands into the air, and Martha groaned.
“You've got to be kidding me,” she said.
“Nope, afraid not,” the Doctor said.
"So much for my grand rescue,” Jack drawled.
Wilkins blinked, and then, with an exaggerated finger to the lips, rose to the ceiling, Martha tried not to follow him with her eyes as the Doctor slowly backed away from the hatch, and Eugenie stepped into view, smiling widely as she trained her weapon on Martha.
“Why, if it isn't our dear Martha, long time no see - been catching up with your friend Jack here, I see?”
“Oh, yeah,” Martha said. “He's been filling me in on all the recent gossip; who's the good guy, who's the bad guy... who's the one pretending to be the other.”
Eugenie's fake smile didn't falter. “Ah, the wit, the banter; I shall be sorry to be rid of you,” she said.
“Tell me, do you practice at sounding like a bad script from a B movie, or is it a gift?” Martha asked sweetly.
“How about you shut that trap of yours, and step out into the hall - keep your hands where I can see them.”
Martha raised her hands and ducked through the breached door, ignoring the Doctor's bright grin and fluttering hand wave, as she eyed the three crewmen who were aiming energy weapons at their chests. She couldn't figure out if they were human or AIs.
“Now you, pretty boy,” Eugenie said, to Jack.
Jack smirked. “See? I knew you liked me," he said, as he stepped into the hallway.
Martha noted that Eugenie's eyes hadn't even rested on the canvas sheet in the corner of the cell. Which was a good thing, as the sheet looked suspiciously flat, even under casual examination. The Doctor was right, they didn't have a clue what Wilkins was. She hoped that the futuristic robot cops from the Orion belt had a thing about the whole 'protect and serve' part of the job, although her only real experience with an alien police force - the Judoon - didn't exactly fill her with confidence.
“Keep your hands up, and start moving,” Eugenie said, gesturing at them to walk.
“Please tell me you have a plan B?” Jack said, under his breath.
“Let's just see where the wind takes us for a while,” the Doctor murmured back. “I want to know what they're up to.”
“Oh great, a foraging expedition, just what we need,” Martha muttered. A gun prodded the middle of her back.
“Stop talking, and keep walking,” Eugenie said.
“Ah, just like old times,” Jack drawled. “Now all I need is a few more chains, and a few rounds of torture, and I'll feel right at home.”
“I could really do with a chip, right now,” the Doctor said, out of the blue. “Oh look, what have we here?”
The corridor opened up into an large, open space, at least four stories high. Balconies and ramps decorated the walls, and Martha's mouth gaped open, as she noted the armed men occupying them. A pillar rose from the center of the room, which seemed to consist of old, piled up computer banks and monitors.
It seemed strangely incongruous in the room..
“Well, that is different,” the Doctor said, eyeing it. “What does it do, exactly, run Vista?” The screens sprang to life and begin to glow a bright pink. Electricity fizzled and sparked along the wiring that cobbled it all together. The Doctor pitched his head to the side. “Okay, not produced at Intel, then,” he murmured softly.
A beam of pink light shot from one of the screens, and a holographic image coalesced in front of them.
“Doctor,” Martha said lowly.
“I know, kind of freaky, isn't it?” the Doctor, as he looked at this holographic double.
“Well, Atrixa 4 is a water world, you know,” the hologram Doctor said, his voice oddly hollow.
“Well, that made absolutely no sense,” Jack said.
“They had to import all the dry land, and as it would cost the earth - aha - to actually terraform real islands, they Constructed a series of floating islands instead, except then the nature conservationists pointed out that all those floating islands couldn't be very good for the local marine life,” the hologram said.
“Wait,” Martha said. “You said that to me, back when we first arrived; it's parroting bits of our conversation back at us.”
“It must have been spying on us,” the Doctor said. “Maybe using the planet's satellite system-”
“Nah, that one went out centuries ago,” the hologram said. “You can look yourself up, but nobody else. Too many many bad guys were using the signal as a bullseye.”
The Doctor's eyes narrowed. “How, then?” he asked.
The hologram blurred, and then coalesced into a different form. It was the holographic confederate soldier from the holiday island. “You all come back now,” it said.
“Well, how do you do? And what are you when you are at home, my beauty,” the Doctor said, stepping forward as he took out his glasses, and propped them on his nose. Martha could hear the fascination in his voice.
“Touch it and I'll kill you,” Eugenie said, her ever present smile suddenly slipping.
“All right, all right,” the Doctor said placatingly, as he took a step back. Martha bit her lip as she noticed his hand slip into his pocket. The one in which he kept his sonic screwdriver.
“So what does it do, then?” she piped up, pulling Eugenie's attention away from the Doctor. “Is it sentient?”
“You, my dear, couldn't even begin to understand what the Construct is,” Eugenie said. “So don't even try.”
“Oh, that wasn't supercilious and condescending at all,” Martha drawled.
“It's a level seven AI prototype,” said a crisp voice behind them. Martha turned to see Wilkins hovering there, his hands transformed into two rather nasty looking weapons. “Stolen from the Haiko Intellect laboratory.”
“Ah,” the Doctor said. “Orion's top AI creation lab - I should have known that INTERSTELP wouldn't have sent one of their top agents to check out a spot of petty pirating, especially one with a level six cortex.”
Eugenie's eyes lit up. “Level six?” Her eyes went up and down Wilkins's body and, for a moment, Wilkins looked vaguely uncomfortable.
“Ahhh,” the Doctor said. “Now I've got it - you have a level seven prototype mind, but no body to go with it, am I right? Those level four and five mainframe bodies are not quite able to hack the neural pathways, are they?”
“Very good, Doctor,” Eugenie said. “Full marks. However, with both the technology you and your friend Jack here possess, along with the rather fortuitous addition of a level six mainframe body, I can safely say that my troubles may soon be over.
“Oh, I doubt that,” the Doctor said quietly. “Quite the opposite, actually.”
“Put your weapons down,” Wilkins said. “Or I may be forced to take action.”
“And what action would that be, copper?” Eugenie asked “Systematically killing every member of my crew that gets in your way, while hoping a stray bullet doesn't hit one of your friends here?”
The crewmen on the gangway above began to shift on their feet, and Martha heard the whir of activating weapons. Martha came to the rather belated realisation that she, standing between the Doctor and Jack, was the only one in danger of not walking away from this alive.
The sonic screwdriver the Doctor had palmed in his hand began to hum. “Hold on,” he said, and then the room turned white.
Martha blinked as she realised Eugenie and the crewmen had disappeared, and they were in a completely different part of the submarine. Pipes hissed and crackled ominously around them, and they seemed to be in some sort of service tunnel.
“I hijacked their transmat system and triggered a shortwave transfer beam,” the Doctor said. “Pity I couldn't take Wilkins with me, but he left his transmat location emitter back in the brig, attached to the canvas sheeting. Which reminds me, I think I've figured out a way to get us off the sub alive, but we'll need to find the communications room - let's find another terminal!”
“But what about Wilkins?” Martha asked.
“I'd be more worried about us,” the Doctor said firmly. “Wilkins is more that able to defend himself, or did you think those anti-grav forcefields of his only helped him float?”
“And what about the the level seven AI mind matrix?” Jack asked.
“Ah, that might be more problematic,” the Doctor admitted. “You realise, of course, that level seven AI mind matrices were never designed to be incorporated into human type avatars?”
“Hard to forget,” Jack drawled.
“Hello? Twentieth first century human, here,” Martha said. “Care to fill me in?”
“Well, to make a long story...well...medium sized... we're now about fifty years after the last of the AI wars,” the Doctor said, scratching his head, before leading them down a tunnel. “INTERSTELP was set up about fifteen years ago, as a sort of interstellar police force that not only patrolled subspace travel corridors, but also made sure that both sides of the old conflict, human and AI, followed the accords and didn't try to stir up old differences again - and it worked! So much so, you can now find AIs on human colonies, and humans living in the Orion system. Peace and Harmony, etcetera, etcetera.”
Martha raised an eyebrow. “And what has that got to do with the level seven mind matrix?” she asked.
“Well, during the war, the Orion Alliance was primarily focused on winning the war. Level four and five AIs were the norm - worker and soldier AIs - with a few level sixes for battle and logistics planning. After the war, however, level four Construction were discontinued, and those that were left were repurposed to work in peace time. Level fives, of course, are sentient - about the same IQ as an average human - so they had a say in their future; they're also still in Construction, albeit at a vastly reduced rate. Level six production, however, has doubled since the war, and they've become the lynch pin in the Human AI peace accords.” The Doctor drew breath, and then grinned. “Ah look, an access panel!” he whipped out his sonic screwdriver, and the panel fell from the wall, smoking slightly. “Ah, shoddy craftsmanship.”.
“Hello, Earth calling the Doctor? You've still not told me what all the fuss is about with the level seven matrix!” Martha said, exasperated, as the Doctor stuck his head into the access panel.
“Uumm, oh, right!” he said, his voice sounding tinny coming from inside the access panel. “Well, you see, from the beginning Orion AIs were designed to look human - roughly human, anyway - and what began as hubris quickly turned into habit, even when humans stopped building them and the AIs started creating themselves. During the war, their human design helped them infiltrate enemy lines, and after the war their humanoid form reassured the human population, but now...well...the Orion worlds have decided it's time to evolve in their own direction - and the level seven AIs are their first step.” He took his head out of the panel. “See?”
Martha folded her arms. “Not even remotely.”
“Oh, well, then,” the Doctor said, “I'll explain later.” There was another flash, and they had moved location again, the Doctor had spun on this feet and dashed to the nearest bank of controls.
“Sometimes, I really want to strangle him,” Martha said.
“Get in line,” Jack drawled. “Although, if you really want to know what happened after the Orion war, I can fill you in.”
Martha whirled to look at him “You can?”
“Hey, ex-time agent, remember?”
“How can I forget,” Martha said, with a grin. “Spill.”
“Well, after the war, the Orion AIs wanted to spread their wings, so they created a new sort of AI, one that wasn't created for human form.” He leaned in and murmured. “The level sevens were ship minds, first of their kind. They're meant to be integrated into Orion's first intergalactic super-ships - I saw one, once, absolutely amazing.”
Martha frowned. “But Eugenie thinks it can be integrated into a humanoid AI.”
“Eugenie thinks wrong,” Jack muttered. “My guess is that she came across it by accident and knew it was valuable, but didn't realise it's true potential.”
“But she must suspect,” Martha said, her mind flashing back to the AI's pillar of wires and old tech. “She must know something is a bit off about it.”
"Humans in this time period don't have much contact with nascent AIs,” Jack said, “It's quite possible she's convinced herself it's quite normal.”
Martha frowned, “Why is it I get the feeling I'm missing a rather big bit of the plot here?”
The Doctor looked up from the console. “It's a baby,” he said. “It's not fully matured, and has limited neural networking. It's trying to connect with a ship that doesn't have the technology to accept it, so it has created a bridge between them, using whatever junk that came its way. It's sad, really.”
“And Eugenie doesn't know what's going on?” Martha said. “How is that possible? I mean, how did the AI get its supplies to create its....bridge?”
“Look around you, Martha.” The Doctor waved his hands in the air. “What is the first thing you noticed when you were captured, what does this crew have an abundance of?”
Martha groaned as realisation struck. “Other AIs - it's communicating with the other AIs.”
“Isn't it brilliant?” The Doctor grinned. “Of course, you realise what this means?”
“Lets just assume I don't, and you can tell me,” Martha said.
“It means that Eugenie isn't as in charge as she thinks she is,” the Doctor said knowingly.
“That might not necessarily be a good thing,” Jack said.
“Yeah, that thought has occurred to me, too,” the Doctor said, as he finished whatever he was doing at the console. “Which is why I think it might be a good idea to go back for Wilkins. We don't have much time.”He pressed a seemingly random button on the console, and a slot opened. Inside it was a new batch of transmat emitters. “Just in case,” he said, pocketing them, and then the transmat beam flashed again.
It was clear that things hadn't gone well since they'd left.
“Hit the deck,” Jack roared, throwing himself on Martha. They both hit the metal flooring with a loud clang, and Martha struggled for both a breath and a look at what was going on around her. The smell of burning metal filled the air, and the sound of weapons fire nearly deafened her. Smoke filled the room, making it hard to see.
“Keep your head down!” Jack said.
“I can't bloody see - or breath!”
“Are you saying I'm putting on weight?”
“Jack!””
“Hey, you two, stop gabbing and follow me!” said the Doctor, his voice coming from her left. “And keep your heads down, you don't want to lose them.”
“Is it just me, or has he gotten crankier,” Jack muttered into her ear, before lifting his weight from her back.
Martha pulled in a deep breath of air, and nearly choked as smoke crept into her lungs. She waved Jack's hand away and crawled after the Doctor. She eventually caught up with him when he paused to examine an electrical wire that crossed their path.
“Hmm, interesting,” he said. “Biomolecular nanotechnology - self healing circuitry. Not as old fashioned as I first thought.”
“Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?” Martha asked.
“I haven't quite figured that part out yet,” the Doctor said admitted.
A foot stepped in their way, and Martha and the Doctor looked at each other, before looking up.
“On your feet,”Eugenie said, her face furious. “Before I remove them from your body.” Slowly, they stood, as she looked behind them. “Where's your friend Jack?” she asked brusquely. “Never mind,” she added, as they remained silent. “Construct! Engage air filters, double strength!” The air began to clear and, a few feet to her left, Jack also rose.
Eugenie smirked, “I'm not sure what you thought you'd accomplish returning, but I'm so glad you did,” she said, before raising her voice. “Wilkins! Cease firing or I'll kill your little human friends!”
“Is it just me, or is anyone else getting a feeling of deja vu?” Martha murmured. The sound of weapons fire faded nearly as quickly as the smoke, and she spotted a groaning body on the floor beside her and crouched. “This man needs medical attention,” she said. “Have you a sick bay?”
“Be quiet!” Eugenie hissed, as her eyes eyed the room. “Where is he gone?”
“Where's who gone?” the Doctor asked brightly..
“You know who I'm talking about, that damned INTERSTELP agent,” she demanded. “Construct! Instruct all level four AIs to assemble here, full armaments!”
“Doctor,” Jack said warningly.
"Give it a minute,” the Doctor said, as he eyed the Construct. Wires fizzed and crackled, but it seemed peculiarly unharmed by the fire fight that had just taken place.
The doors hissed open, and the Vikings from the boat marched into the room. Martha wondered where Wilkins had disappeared to, and then an idea occurred to her as she remembered how he'd avoided detection in the Brig. She felt the familiar pressure of the Doctor's hand squeezing hers, and knew he'd already figured it out.
“Level Fours, listen to my instructions,” Eugenie barked. “V1 through 3, keep your armaments trained on these three at all times. If they resist, kill them, if they try to escape, kill them. Is that clear?” she asked.
The first three AIs nodded abruptly, before stepping forward and aiming their weapons. Martha raised her hands. She hoped the Doctor's plan worked.
The hull shuddered ominously, and Martha eyed it warily as the floor under her feet tilted incrementally. She risked a glance at the Doctor, who looked smug. Ah, part of the plan then...she really wished he'd filled her in. The submarine groaned as the floor tilted, and Martha clung to Jack, who clung to a console, in order to stop herself sliding across the floor. The Doctor seemed unaffected,. Eugenie glared at the Doctor as she clutched at the AI beside her. “What have you done?”
“Who, me?” the Doctor said, with a shrug. “Just had a little conversation with your Construct, that's all. You know, she's really quite chatty-”
One by one, the lights in the control room went out. First the lights in the ceiling and walls, and then the emergency strip lights in the floor. A few moments later, the only light in the room came from the Construct's screens, and even they were growing dim. The whine of the air filters slowed, and then stopped. The AIs froze, and went silent.
Eugenie's face, lit by the faint glow of the Construct, was a picture of terror. “We're going to run out of air,” she said. “What did you do?”
“Oh, it'll be a few hours yet before you're in trouble,” the Doctor said breezily. “Plenty of time to fix it.”
“But the engines have stopped, we can't surface.”
“Well, I guess you'll have to do it manually,” the Doctor said.
“We can't, the Construct runs the engine room. The Construct runs everything! We'd have to...we'd have to...” She stared at the Doctor.
“You'd have to disconnect it, yes,” the Doctor said quietly. “Did you really think that they'd let you keep her. She's sentient, and she wants to be free. This isn't freedom for her. This is a cage. She wants to be let go.”
“No,” Eugenie said shaking her head. “No, she wants me to help her. That why she showed me you. That's why she showed me your friend Jack here. She wanted me to find you, because you had what I needed. She helped me.”
“Is that what you think happened here?” the Doctor asked, almost gently. “She didn't bring us here to help you, Eugenie, she brought us here, to rescue her. It was a cry for help. To help her get away from you.”
“No!” Eugenie said. “You're wrong.”
“I don't think so,” the Doctor said, “What do you think, Wilkins?”
The air beside the Doctor blurred, and the AI suddenly appeared. “How did you know I was there?”
“Because half of my left foot has been missing for the last thirty seconds, and as I wasn't rolling around in agony, I figured it was an illusion. You really should pull your shields in tighter when you use that trick.”
“I'll keep that in mind,” Wilkins said. “What did you do, Doctor?”
“I hacked into the sub's communication station and had a chat with the Construct,” the Doctor said simply. “When I explained to her my plan, she seemed eager to help. She shut down the submarine and the COM relay to the satellites above. Your surveillance should now be able to find us. Congratulations, you've just saved the day.”
Wilkins gave him a long look. “Tell me, Doctor, when I get home, and access the INTERSTELP information logs. What would I find, if I entered your name?”
The Doctor shrugged. “That I'm a good swimmer?” he ventured.
“You're not going to be here, when the rescue services arrive, are you?”
“Nope, afraid not,” the Doctor said.
Martha raised an eyebrow at that. “Why is that?” she asked.
The Doctor grinned. “I used the satellite to boost the transmat emitters,” he said, and then the world went white again. Martha staggered as she found herself on level ground once more.
Jack laughed, as he took a deep breath. “Ah, clean, open air,” he said. “Just what the Doctor ordered,
The Doctor gave him a knowing smirk. “Next time you want to forget your troubles, just pick a good bar,” he said.
“Speaking of which,” Jack said, “I know a really good place, that serves a perfect Cosmopolitan, out by the Fortean belt...”
“Oh no,” Martha said. “I have a life to get back to! I have a job interview with UNIT.”
Jack gave a snort. “I don't see why you won't come work for me,” he said. He then pouted. Martha decided that was dirty pool.
"I'm not going to work for Torchwood, Jack,” she said firmly.
The Doctor and Jack shared a glance, and Martha put her hands on her hips. “Oh no you don't,” she declared. “You're not allowed to gang up on me with the significant look.”
“I don't know why not,” Jack said. “It seems to be working a treat...what do you think, Doctor?
“I think I might quite like a Daiquiri at this moment,” the Doctor observed. “Cosmopolitans were never really my thing.”
“Not going to happen,” Martha said firmly. Jack gave her a coy smile, which was rather unnervingly echoed by the Doctor. “Nuh-uh,” she added, rather half heartedly.
“Oh, come on, Martha,” the Doctor said, “Just one trip...”
~~~*~***~*~~~
Hilda Redgreen was a very annoyed woman. She had managed Tara for over six years, and not once - not once - had she lost an entire shuttle. She wasn't about to let them get away with it!
“Are you sure it was them,” she asked the AI, as she hurried across the lawn.
“Their brochures confirm their identities,” he said.
Hilda Redgreen raised her skirts and ran. In the distance, she could see the three of them standing in front of a peculiar blue box that marred the lines of her perfectly manicured lawn. They were clutched in some sort of group embrace or hug and hadn't noticed her yet. So, it was like that, was it?
She redoubled her pace, and called out, “Hey, you there!” But they ignored her, as they stepped into the blue box. A low thrumming noise filled the air as the box faded from view, and Hilda stumbled to a halt. This could not be happening to her. She had such a perfect record!
Beside her, a sad looking confederate soldier hologram popped into being. “Good bye, Doctor,” he said. “And thank you.”
~~FINIS~~