The Clock's Dial - Chapter Nine
Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six ,Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight
Nine - I think you need a Doctor
‘Doctor?’
Rose blinked at the screen before her, leaning forward desperately, as if proximity would somehow make the image reappear.
She’d hit the table, jostling the computer mouse and waking up the screen from its energy saving mode. The screen was displaying a picture of the entrance gate and the surrounding land and, for a fleeting moment, Rose could have sworn she’d seen a tall figure in a long brown coat moving out of sight.
Now, though, there was nothing.
Rose stood back from the table, swallowing hard, tears pricking and her chest and throat tight.
It was just her imagination, it had to be. She was finally losing it. Nightmares and voices while she slept weren’t enough and now she was going totally doolally. Perfect.
Still, stranger things had happened - she knew that first hand. Sometimes, only the barking ignored the nutty.
Resolved, she glanced behind her, as if her present solitude could offer reassurance of its continuation, before moving resolutely towards the entrance. Yanking open the doorway, she stepped quickly outside before she could second guess herself and turn back.
The air was damp with drizzle, but she paid it no mind, striding out quickly towards the area monitored by the hub’s computer. The jeep had been to the right of wherever the… figure had headed, so she veered to her left. The first of a row of huge warehouse buildings loomed and she slowed, trying to decide where to go.
‘Rose…’
Rose stumbled at the faint whisper in the air. Forcing herself to steady, she drew in a deep breath, closing her eyes and listening hard. The wind rippled through the trees and somewhere a bird called, but there was nothing else. She opened her eyes and realised she was staring at her feet, or rather the dirt beneath her feet - dirt that was littered with unusual tracks.
Squatting on her haunches, she studied the ground around her, noticing for the first time the multiple identical indents that ran through the dirt, criss-crossing each other but all running in roughly the same direction. Sometimes beneath, sometimes over, but mainly between the parallel indentations were the clear impressions of booted feet. Something with small wheels had been pushed through here, repeatedly.
‘Oo, are you detecting, Rose?’
Ignoring the voice in her head, and keeping to the grassy ground to avoid leaving prints of her own, Rose hurried away from the main warehouses, following where the tracks led her. Following the trail onwards with her eyes, she noticed a small green metal building tucked away between some conifers. It blended in perfectly with its evergreen surroundings and she was not surprised that she had not spotted it before. Unlike the warehouses, this building looked both modern and purpose built for something other than storage; it looked military and that fact alone unsettled her. Torchwood Eight was not military - she’d seen the reports, this place had been humanitarian since the severing of Lumic’s control and the army had never had a foothold. Yet here was a military building.
Noting the security pad on the door, Rose headed instead into the trees, skirting the edge of the building in search of windows. To her disgust, however, the only windows looked to be along the roof line and well out of her reach. Conscious of the amount of time she had spent outside, Rose contemplated going back - every moment away from the hub was a risk, but she could not shake the feeling that she was on to something important, something worth the risk.
Torn, she glanced back towards the hub building, only to whirl round as, once again, a swish of brown caught the corner of her eye.
‘Doctor?’
Hurrying after the movement, she rounded the back of the building, only to still in disappointment. Before her was the wide-open mass of a deserted car park and there was nobody in sight. It had been her imagination - wishful thinking. She signed, turning back, only to smile.
There was no sign of a tall, thin, impossible man in brown but there was a partially glazed back door.
‘Permission to investigate, Sarge,’ she whispered under her breath, before sidling up to the door and peeking inside.
The blood drained from her face and, before she registered her intention, she was already running for the hub as if the hoards of hell were after her.
*************************
Pete stared through the window into the recreation room. The men and women in the room were preternaturally still, moving only sporadically and with an imperfect fluidity reminiscent of a puppet manipulated by strings rather than a curious child. If one simply glanced into the room, it might have appeared convincing, but extended scrutiny exposed horrible flaws - the man colouring in a book was not looking at it, his gaze entirely vacant, while the duo playing Connect Four were placing discs in the plastic wall indiscriminately. It was a tableau, a set, dressed to tell a tale, and it took all his skill not to reveal how little it convinced him.
‘So, Dr Ferris, what am I looking at?’
Vicky smiled at Pete, her expression almost euphoric. ‘You’re looking at the future, Director.’
Dr Perry cut in, ‘Six months ago these people were vegetables, Director. Now, they are able to undertake simple tasks.’
Dr Ferris glared at Dr Perry, but subsided nonetheless, turning away from the men to stare through the window into the recreation room. Her hand rested against the glass, her fingers almost caressing the smooth surface.
Pete shifted uncomfortably and focused his attention on Matt Perry.
‘They still have implants,’ he observed, referencing the fact that, while the limbs of the patients were unaffected, all had at least some form of cybertisation around their torso and cranium.
‘Enhancements…’ Dr Ferris murmured.
‘What Dr Ferris means, Director, is that the remaining implants are those sustaining life. We can’t yet remove those implants without killing the patient. But we hope, with further enhancements to our processes, to be able to soon.’
‘Ah. I see. Well, that’s wonderful.’ Pete adverted his gaze from the disturbing sight of grown men and women playing with the intellect of infants. He smiled as broadly as he could manage, clapping Dr Perry on the back and nodding inanely. ‘I can see that all my fears were quite unfounded. This is remarkable. Excellent work. I can see everything going splendidly!’ He sighed. ‘To my eternal regret, my wife will be delighted - we can get back to our holiday.’
Dr Perry chuckled obligingly.
‘Well, time to collect my daughter and return to the fray. It was a pleasure meeting you, Dr Perry. Dr Ferris, perhaps you could show me the way back to my daughter.’
Dr Ferris graced him with a genuine smile. ‘It would be my pleasure, Director.’
*************************
Rose stepped through the door, turning to pull it closed.
‘Miss Tyler?’
Rose quickly pushed the door away from her, simultaneously squealing and whirling around.
‘Bloody hell, you nearly gave me a heart-attack!’ She panted, glaring at Gary, as the door closed itself behind her.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Not that it’s any of your business, but I was about to go for a walk, before you decided to scare the shit out of me!’
Gary stepped towards her and Rose skittered away, shooting a glance at Mickey as she struggled to get her breathing under control.
‘I think you’d better sit down.’
‘I don’t…’
‘Sit down and wait for your father,’ Gary informed her coldly.
‘How dare you…’
‘Just sit down, Rose. Your dad won’t be long.’
Rose glared at Mickey.
‘This place is like a sodding prison!’ Rose grumbled, slumping into the nearest chair and crossing her arms. ‘Just wait till I tell my mum about this. She won’t be happy.’
Gary remained implacable but Mickey chuckled.
‘Look’s like Pete’s gonna be getting it in the neck tonight,’ he commented to the guard.
Gary managed a slight smirk. Rose, meanwhile, settled back into the shadows to sulk, hoping that the poor light would prevent Gary from noticing the slight sheen of moisture that the weather outside had left on her clothes and skin.
************************
The stony silence, fashioned by a sulking heiress and intimidated males, was still firmly in place when Dr Ferris and Pete entered the room five minutes later.
‘Are we leaving now?’ Rose demanded instantly, standing with her arms crossed and looking like thunder.
Pete came to a premature halt and cast an anxious glance at Dr Ferris. ‘Uh, yes, of course, darling.’ He shrugged at Dr Ferris apologetically. ‘It’s been a delight, Dr Ferris. I’m sorry I can’t stay longer, but I can see everything here is in excellent hands.’
‘Thank you, Director. As you say, it is a shame you don’t have more time, but you are on holiday after all…’
‘Yes, we are. Come on, Dad, before I have to call mum and tell her just now awful my afternoon has been!’
‘Yes, right, jolly good.’
With a grin, Gary strode across the room and pulled open the main door. Rose stalked through it, turning on her heel just beyond the threshold and glaring at Pete.
‘Now, father!’
With alacrity, Pete hurried after her, shaking Dr Ferris’ hand hastily, before grabbing Mickey by the arm and pulling him along with him.
‘Goodbye,’ Pete managed again, before the door swung shut. Still in character, he turned his attention to his daughter. ‘Really, Rose, that was very rude. I have a mind to speak to your mother about this.’
Rose raised an eyebrow. ‘Go on, I dare you!’ she challenged, before marching to the jeep and clambering in.
‘Come on, boss, before she gets even more pissed off,’ Mickey suggested.
With a sigh, Pete followed the pair towards their vehicle, pulling out his mobile phone as he went. As he arrived at the jeep, his call was connected and, after a moment, he spoke into his handheld device.
‘Hopkins, Pete here. Popped in on Eight while I was in the area. Caitlin reported it amber, but all seems well. Might check in on the Paris office on my way home - good to touch base with the field offices now and again, I think. Anyway, will check in again tomorrow. Bye for now.’
Snapping the phone shut and popping it in his pocket, Pete opened the driver’s door and slid behind the wheel.
‘Now, Rose, sweetheart - if daddy takes you to a nice boutique on the way back to the hotel, what say we don’t bother your mother with this afternoon’s events?’ he bargained, as he started the engine and pulled away smoothly.
Rose’s reply was lost in the clang of the gate as it opened to let the jeep through. Mickey’s laughter was not.
Chapter Ten