Fic: Borrowed Time (8/11)
Title: Borrowed Time (Part 8 of 11)
Author: lemon_pencil
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Ten, Donna, various others
Disclaimer: Rusty is fail, so I'm taking over. But they're not mine, I'm afraid.
Warnings/Spoilers: Series 4; Planet of the Dead.
Word Count: About 1,500
Summary: Donna wants to go on one last adventure before it's too late...
Author's Notes: I don't have a note today :( Aw. Now I'm sad.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
Quite quickly, the Doctor managed to open the hidden door that lead further into the building. Donna didn’t know exactly how he did it, but he babbled something about frequencies and resonance, and did something with the sonic screwdriver, and since she was too tired to enquire any further she decided that would suffice.
On entering the space beyond, they found themselves in a narrow, dimly lit corridor. This was not extraordinary in any way; what was of interest was the person coming towards them in a furtive sort of manner, glancing backwards nervously.
“Hector!” exclaimed the Doctor loudly, causing the named man to start violently and look up at the two in surprise. “Fancy seeing you here!”
Hector recovered and gave them an anxious smile. He looked much the same as when they had encountered him the previous night, except his hair was sticking up a little more and there were faint smudges of dirt on his face.
“Oh, hello,” he said, uncertainly. “Donna and Doctor Smith, was it not?”
“Yeah, but you can drop the ‘Smith’, I lied about that,” said the Doctor. “Just Doctor will do. So what are you doing here?”
“The same as you I imagine, Doctor,” answered Hector. “I’m determined to get to the bottom of this case and my investigations have lead me here. Something’s not right about those plants they’re growing, and I want to know what it is. It appears you have drawn the same conclusions.”
The Doctor nodded, eyebrows raised and an impressed expression on his face. “We have, yeah. Oh you’re good, Hector. ‘Cause, you see, we’ve got all sorts of clever diddly-whatsits and sproogles that we’ve used to get here, but you must be… well, brilliant. Which intimidates me a little bit because I’m the clever one, but I can deal with that, I’m a big boy. Question is, are you a one-man band or do you fancy teaming up? I think we can help each other, and if you’re lucky we might even let you use some of our sproogles.”
Hector looked slightly bemused, and Donna smiled inwardly. The Doctor’s casual, flippant and yet at times completely nonsensical way of talking took some getting used to.
“Well, yes, it would seem to be most advantageous if we worked together,” Hector agreed, nodding. “I think I know where the heart of all this is. There’s a tower at one end of the building - you probably saw it from outside - and there’s a room at the top that I managed to get a look at. It’s full of odd equipment and what its purpose is I cannot guess, that’s why I came back down, but you might be able to work it out.”
“Oh, if anyone can it’s geek boy here,” Donna smirked. “He loves odd equipment. If he starts talking to it and telling it how gorgeous it is, just smile and nod.”
The Doctor looked slightly affronted, but gestured in the direction that Hector had just come from. “Lead the way!” he instructed. “We can go now, no time to lose!”
Donna winced at the expression, and tried to put the image of an hourglass with sands running rapidly through it out of her mind. They emerged from a door at the end of the corridor into a cloakroom.
“Put these uniforms on,” Hector commanded them. “That’s how I managed to walk through the premises unnoticed before. Oh, and I found somebody’s swipe card in a pocket,” he explained, waving a blue plastic card, “so look through some of the others and hopefully you can find another two.”
“No need,” beamed the Doctor, getting out the psychic paper. “This ought to get us in fine.”
The three of them pulled on the pale blue overalls. They covered their entire bodies, and also came with boots, gloves and airtight headgear, which they quickly donned.
“Looking good,” the Doctor grinned as Donna struck a pose. “Allons-y then!”
Hector led them through the doors, which the psychic paper opened easily, and into the room ahead. It was a huge space, and lit brightly with fluorescent strip lights that gave it quite a cold, industrial feeling. But that was not the main cause for concern. What was most disturbing was what the room contained. Rows of cages stretched across the concrete floor, and in them were -
“People,” breathed Donna, her voice muffled from inside the helmet. “Oh my God, they’re people.”
Each wore what looked like an oxygen mask attached to their face, and many wires protruded from metal bands that circled their heads. Manacles were clamped around their hands and feet, and many struggled or snarled in protest. Donna recognised the symptoms of the condition they now knew was caused by the pollen of the flowers growing outside.
“Test subjects,” said the Doctor, bitter anger evident in his voice. “The masks are dosing them with the Croën spores, and the computers that they’re wired up to are measuring brain activity. They’re like lab mice.”
Through the plastic window that the headgear was fitted with, he could see Donna’s ashen face staring at the scene before her. A tear slipped down her cheek and she put her hand up to wipe it away hurriedly before remembering that there was a visor blocking the way. The Doctor took her gloved hand in his and squeezed it, and then looked over at Hector. He was staring at Donna, looking worried.
“She’s okay,” the Doctor said quietly.
Hector started. “What? Oh, yes, good. We should carry on.”
“Come on then,” murmured the Doctor to his shaken companion, tugging her hand gently until she tore her eyes away from the sight and obediently began to walk. He let go of her hand, fearing that they would look conspicuous, but kept a close eye on her. Today was turning out to be tougher than he had anticipated.
They headed towards a door on the far side of the room. Once through, there were four flights of stairs to climb before they reached the room at the top. Donna was completely exhausted by the time they had clambered all the way up. It didn’t help that she hadn’t had any proper sleep in over a day, discounting the short nap before the Doctor had arrived, but there was no way she was about to waste any time resting.
“Hold on,” said the Doctor, stopping them in their tracks. He rummaged in his pockets and pulled out the stethoscope. Holding the diaphragm to the solid wooden door and placing the plugs in his ears, he listened intently for a few seconds before nodding. “Yep, nobody in there,” he confirmed, swiping the psychic paper across card scanner. There was a beep and the door clicked open.
Once inside, the Doctor’s eyes lit up. The room was glass-fronted and looked out over the fields, and the intense yellow of the blooms shone below. The Doctor’s attention, however, had been captured by the abundant complex machinery that filled the space. There were endless switches and levers and knobs and dials, and he was in his element.
“Oh, that is gorge-” He stopped mid-word, seeing Donna shaking her head at him. “I mean, that’s very interesting.” He thought for a second, and changed his mind. “No, I’m sorry, you have to admit it, it’s beautiful! Look at it! Do you know what it is?”
Donna laughed. “Yeah, of course I do! Nope, haven’t got a clue. A trans-temporal warp-factor converter?”
He grinned. “Nah, they’re much bigger.”
She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Go on then. Tell me.”
“It’s a weather controlling station!” he announced happily. “How brilliant is that? I have no idea what it’s for, but it’s still brilliant!”
“I’m glad you think so,” said Hector, behind them. They’d almost forgotten he was there. Turning around, they saw to their utter surprise that he was holding a gun. “It’s good to end things on a high, and I’m afraid the adventure ends here.”
He snapped his fingers, and a pile of silvery-blue chains that had previously lain unnoticed leapt into the air, animated suddenly just like the hosepipes had been. Their hands and feet were bound in a flash.
“But… you?” said the Doctor, shocked. “How…?”
Hector smiled nastily, and yet there was still something of an air of nervousness about him, as though this wasn’t the sort of thing he usually went round doing and he felt slightly uncomfortable about it.
“You may find, Doctor, that I have rather more ‘diddly-whatsits and sproogles’ than you imagined,” he said, eyeing his prisoners. “Now if you will excuse me, my employees only take orders from me. I must go down to the testing floor. I shall back in a few minutes, so let’s see if you can think of something clever to get out of those chains. They’re Gulthrian steel, by the way.”
And with that, he strode through the door. It swung shut with a loud bang, leaving the Doctor and Donna in stunned silence.
Next part
Author: lemon_pencil
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Ten, Donna, various others
Disclaimer: Rusty is fail, so I'm taking over. But they're not mine, I'm afraid.
Warnings/Spoilers: Series 4; Planet of the Dead.
Word Count: About 1,500
Summary: Donna wants to go on one last adventure before it's too late...
Author's Notes: I don't have a note today :( Aw. Now I'm sad.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
Quite quickly, the Doctor managed to open the hidden door that lead further into the building. Donna didn’t know exactly how he did it, but he babbled something about frequencies and resonance, and did something with the sonic screwdriver, and since she was too tired to enquire any further she decided that would suffice.
On entering the space beyond, they found themselves in a narrow, dimly lit corridor. This was not extraordinary in any way; what was of interest was the person coming towards them in a furtive sort of manner, glancing backwards nervously.
“Hector!” exclaimed the Doctor loudly, causing the named man to start violently and look up at the two in surprise. “Fancy seeing you here!”
Hector recovered and gave them an anxious smile. He looked much the same as when they had encountered him the previous night, except his hair was sticking up a little more and there were faint smudges of dirt on his face.
“Oh, hello,” he said, uncertainly. “Donna and Doctor Smith, was it not?”
“Yeah, but you can drop the ‘Smith’, I lied about that,” said the Doctor. “Just Doctor will do. So what are you doing here?”
“The same as you I imagine, Doctor,” answered Hector. “I’m determined to get to the bottom of this case and my investigations have lead me here. Something’s not right about those plants they’re growing, and I want to know what it is. It appears you have drawn the same conclusions.”
The Doctor nodded, eyebrows raised and an impressed expression on his face. “We have, yeah. Oh you’re good, Hector. ‘Cause, you see, we’ve got all sorts of clever diddly-whatsits and sproogles that we’ve used to get here, but you must be… well, brilliant. Which intimidates me a little bit because I’m the clever one, but I can deal with that, I’m a big boy. Question is, are you a one-man band or do you fancy teaming up? I think we can help each other, and if you’re lucky we might even let you use some of our sproogles.”
Hector looked slightly bemused, and Donna smiled inwardly. The Doctor’s casual, flippant and yet at times completely nonsensical way of talking took some getting used to.
“Well, yes, it would seem to be most advantageous if we worked together,” Hector agreed, nodding. “I think I know where the heart of all this is. There’s a tower at one end of the building - you probably saw it from outside - and there’s a room at the top that I managed to get a look at. It’s full of odd equipment and what its purpose is I cannot guess, that’s why I came back down, but you might be able to work it out.”
“Oh, if anyone can it’s geek boy here,” Donna smirked. “He loves odd equipment. If he starts talking to it and telling it how gorgeous it is, just smile and nod.”
The Doctor looked slightly affronted, but gestured in the direction that Hector had just come from. “Lead the way!” he instructed. “We can go now, no time to lose!”
Donna winced at the expression, and tried to put the image of an hourglass with sands running rapidly through it out of her mind. They emerged from a door at the end of the corridor into a cloakroom.
“Put these uniforms on,” Hector commanded them. “That’s how I managed to walk through the premises unnoticed before. Oh, and I found somebody’s swipe card in a pocket,” he explained, waving a blue plastic card, “so look through some of the others and hopefully you can find another two.”
“No need,” beamed the Doctor, getting out the psychic paper. “This ought to get us in fine.”
The three of them pulled on the pale blue overalls. They covered their entire bodies, and also came with boots, gloves and airtight headgear, which they quickly donned.
“Looking good,” the Doctor grinned as Donna struck a pose. “Allons-y then!”
Hector led them through the doors, which the psychic paper opened easily, and into the room ahead. It was a huge space, and lit brightly with fluorescent strip lights that gave it quite a cold, industrial feeling. But that was not the main cause for concern. What was most disturbing was what the room contained. Rows of cages stretched across the concrete floor, and in them were -
“People,” breathed Donna, her voice muffled from inside the helmet. “Oh my God, they’re people.”
Each wore what looked like an oxygen mask attached to their face, and many wires protruded from metal bands that circled their heads. Manacles were clamped around their hands and feet, and many struggled or snarled in protest. Donna recognised the symptoms of the condition they now knew was caused by the pollen of the flowers growing outside.
“Test subjects,” said the Doctor, bitter anger evident in his voice. “The masks are dosing them with the Croën spores, and the computers that they’re wired up to are measuring brain activity. They’re like lab mice.”
Through the plastic window that the headgear was fitted with, he could see Donna’s ashen face staring at the scene before her. A tear slipped down her cheek and she put her hand up to wipe it away hurriedly before remembering that there was a visor blocking the way. The Doctor took her gloved hand in his and squeezed it, and then looked over at Hector. He was staring at Donna, looking worried.
“She’s okay,” the Doctor said quietly.
Hector started. “What? Oh, yes, good. We should carry on.”
“Come on then,” murmured the Doctor to his shaken companion, tugging her hand gently until she tore her eyes away from the sight and obediently began to walk. He let go of her hand, fearing that they would look conspicuous, but kept a close eye on her. Today was turning out to be tougher than he had anticipated.
They headed towards a door on the far side of the room. Once through, there were four flights of stairs to climb before they reached the room at the top. Donna was completely exhausted by the time they had clambered all the way up. It didn’t help that she hadn’t had any proper sleep in over a day, discounting the short nap before the Doctor had arrived, but there was no way she was about to waste any time resting.
“Hold on,” said the Doctor, stopping them in their tracks. He rummaged in his pockets and pulled out the stethoscope. Holding the diaphragm to the solid wooden door and placing the plugs in his ears, he listened intently for a few seconds before nodding. “Yep, nobody in there,” he confirmed, swiping the psychic paper across card scanner. There was a beep and the door clicked open.
Once inside, the Doctor’s eyes lit up. The room was glass-fronted and looked out over the fields, and the intense yellow of the blooms shone below. The Doctor’s attention, however, had been captured by the abundant complex machinery that filled the space. There were endless switches and levers and knobs and dials, and he was in his element.
“Oh, that is gorge-” He stopped mid-word, seeing Donna shaking her head at him. “I mean, that’s very interesting.” He thought for a second, and changed his mind. “No, I’m sorry, you have to admit it, it’s beautiful! Look at it! Do you know what it is?”
Donna laughed. “Yeah, of course I do! Nope, haven’t got a clue. A trans-temporal warp-factor converter?”
He grinned. “Nah, they’re much bigger.”
She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Go on then. Tell me.”
“It’s a weather controlling station!” he announced happily. “How brilliant is that? I have no idea what it’s for, but it’s still brilliant!”
“I’m glad you think so,” said Hector, behind them. They’d almost forgotten he was there. Turning around, they saw to their utter surprise that he was holding a gun. “It’s good to end things on a high, and I’m afraid the adventure ends here.”
He snapped his fingers, and a pile of silvery-blue chains that had previously lain unnoticed leapt into the air, animated suddenly just like the hosepipes had been. Their hands and feet were bound in a flash.
“But… you?” said the Doctor, shocked. “How…?”
Hector smiled nastily, and yet there was still something of an air of nervousness about him, as though this wasn’t the sort of thing he usually went round doing and he felt slightly uncomfortable about it.
“You may find, Doctor, that I have rather more ‘diddly-whatsits and sproogles’ than you imagined,” he said, eyeing his prisoners. “Now if you will excuse me, my employees only take orders from me. I must go down to the testing floor. I shall back in a few minutes, so let’s see if you can think of something clever to get out of those chains. They’re Gulthrian steel, by the way.”
And with that, he strode through the door. It swung shut with a loud bang, leaving the Doctor and Donna in stunned silence.
Next part