Tempus Edax Rerum 1: Time Sensitive
Who_Daily Link: < a href="http://persiflage-1.livejournal.com/280707.html">Tempus Edax Rerum 1: Time Sensitive by < lj user=persiflage_1> (Characters: Martha Jones, Eighth Doctor, Romana II, Autons | Rating: PG | Spoilers: BFA: The Girl Who Never Was)
Title: Tempus Edax Rerum 1: Time Sensitive
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha Jones, Eighth Doctor, Romana II, Autons
Rating: PG (for danger)
Spoilers: BFA: The Girl Who Never Was
Summary: The companionless Eighth Doctor meets an unusual young medical student.
Disclaimer: I occasionally wish that I did own it!
Author Notes: This is the first of an AU fic series which is set just before the 'Gallifrey' audio series for Romana II, after 'The Girl That Never Was' for Eight, and features a slightly AU version of Martha Jones - she's essentially the same person, but with one slight addition to her talents, and she's never met the Doctor before.
Many thanks to catholicphoton who has allowed me to blather endlessly at her about not only this fic, but the entire series to which it is the introduction, and read bits of it as I was writing it.
Betas: The lovely fourzoas and catholicphoton
Index post
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Fic Banner by nschick
Tempus Edax Rerum: Time, devourer of all things
Prologue
Lady Romanadvoratrelundar, President of the High Council of Gallifrey, was in the Presidential suite after a lengthy and tedious meeting with the head of the CIA; she was planning to have a quiet, leisurely lunch and catch up on some reading, and had given K9 orders to ensure that no one interrupted her. Of course, he was stationed outside the suite - meaning he was in no position to repel intruders who materialised a Type 40 time capsule in the middle of her sitting room.
The door creaked open in what Romana considered an unnecessarily theatrical manner, and a head of curly brown hair popped through it, followed closely by the rest of the Time Lord clad in his green velvet jacket and a pair of pale brown trousers.
“Hello Romana,” he said cheerily. “You called me?”
“Hello Doctor.” She suppressed a small sigh at the fact that he hadn’t landed his TARDIS in the TARDIS bays, but then the Doctor, as she knew from long association, rarely did what was expected.
”Tea?” she asked, nodding at the low table between the sofa and her favourite armchair, on which a tray rested.
“Yes please!” he answered eagerly, flopping down into the armchair in an inelegant manner and beaming happily at her. “So, what can I do for you? I don’t suppose you called me back to Gallifrey so we could go punting on the Cam again or fishing on Tara?”
"I am afraid not, Doctor." Romana poured the tea and passed the Doctor a cup and saucer. "I am rather hoping that you will find someone for me, someone on Earth."
"Anyone in particular?" he asked, peering at her over the top of his cup.
"Mm, yes. I saw someone in the Matrix - and the glimpses I got of them seemed to indicate that this person will be important to both Gallifrey and Earth."
His eyebrows rose. "Interesting. Do we know anything about this person?"
"Not much, I am afraid," she answered. "I can share with you the image I saw, but it was a back view - I cannot even be certain if they were male or female. But I do know they were dark-skinned."
"Did you gain any impression of where on Earth I might find this person?"
The President shook her head. "Sorry, no."
"This is going to be a bit like looking for the proverbial needle, then," observed the Doctor.
"I know, and I am sorry, Doctor, but I do think it is important that we find them. A human showing up in the Matrix is so rare that I have to believe it's significant, that they are significant."
He scowled. "Is it really a good idea for us to get involved in the lives of humans again? Look what happened to Charley."
Romana gave him a long, steady look until he fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair. "What happened with Charley was different," she said. "You told me yourself that you knew that she should have died in the R101 crash from the way the Vortisaur behaved towards her, but you chose to ignore that."
His scowl deepened and he buried his face in his cup, as if drinking his tea was the most important thing he could be doing right now.
"How long has it been since you and Charley parted company?" asked Romana, her tone gentler than before. She knew that he had a tendency to get very attached to his travelling companions, especially the young female ones.
He shrugged eloquently. "A while."
"And you haven't found anyone else to travel with." It was more of a statement than a question.
"No." He glanced up fleetingly at Romana, then looked away again.
"Doctor, I know you miss Charley, and that you and she became very close as a result of being stuck in the Divergent universe together, but I really do need you to find this person - for Gallifrey's sake, not just yours or mine, and no one else here knows humans as well as you do."
"Oh, very well," the Doctor said begrudgingly. "And once I find this person, what am I supposed to do with them?"
Romana raised an elegant eyebrow at him. "Bring them here so we can establish their potentiality," she answered. "You realise that the skirmishes between Daleks and our allies are becoming more frequent, and the other temporal powers are being increasingly aggressive about the existence of Gryben."
"I knew about the Daleks, yes," the Doctor agreed. "I've no idea about the situation regarding Gryben. You know me, Romana, I try to stay out of Time Lord politics. I leave that sort of thing in your capable hands." He gave her a smile.
"Flattery will get you nowhere Doctor," she answered stifling her own smile. "It's vitally important that Gallifrey has all the allies and all the help she can find, and if this human can help us, then the sooner we can find them, the better."
"You'd better show me the image you have of them, then," the Doctor said, still sounding a trifle grumpy.
"Thank you, Doctor."
* * * * * *
As he walked down a quiet London street the Doctor wondered where to begin in his search for the person whom he and Romana had seen in the Matrix. He wasn’t even sure why he’d come here first: there were more obvious places on Earth to look for someone with dark skin, but London and its environs seemed the most like home of all the many places on Earth he’d visited. He smiled suddenly as he remembered the Brigadier, Benton, Liz Shaw and Sarah Jane, and he wondered what they were all doing now.
“Look out!” cried a voice close to his ear, startling him from his pleasant reminiscences as a body collided with his, arms wrapping about his torso, and sending him flying across the pavement moments before a car mounted the curb alongside which he’d been walking. Cries and screams filled the air as the car plunged at an angle across the pavement and into the front of a building with the sound of rending metal as the front left bumper collided with the building mere inches from his feet. For a moment the Doctor lay stunned where he’d fallen, staring up at the car and its driver, whom he could see was slumped over the wheel. The dark skinned young woman who’d been lying half on top of him scrambled up to her feet and around the front of the car, tugging open the driver’s door one-handed while fishing in her pocket with the other.
“Call an ambulance,” she shouted urgently, and a moment later a shining object flew towards him. He snatched it out of the air without thinking about it, then stared at it in bewilderment until he registered that it was a mobile phone. He hit the 9 key three times as he picked himself up from the ground, noticing absent-mindedly that the young woman seemed to know what she was doing as she dealt with the driver.
The Doctor spoke succinctly to the operator, telling him where to send the ambulance, and why, then ended the call, moving around the front of the car to speak to the young woman.
”The ambulance is on its way,” he said. “Is he - ?” He nodded at the driver.
”Still alive,” she answered, straightening up and accepting her phone, looking hugely relieved as she slipped it back into her pocket. “Are you okay?” She was frowning up at his face, he realised, and the Doctor reached up to discover a large swelling on his left temple.
“I’ll mend,” he said, smiling at her. “Your reactions are very fast, thank you.”
She gave him a smile that looked shaky, then closed her eyes, and he stepped closer to put a hand on her left arm, worried that she was going to pass out. “Are you okay?” he asked quickly.
“I - “ She turned away, then bent over and vomited briefly.
“Delayed reaction,” he said sympathetically, rubbing her back for a moment, then offering her a large white handkerchief to wipe her mouth. He looked around just as the ambulance pulled up, its siren almost deafening at such close proximity.
“Excuse me?” said a voice behind them, and they both turned to see a red-haired man in his 30s wearing the green and yellow uniform of a paramedic.
“Yes?” the Doctor asked.
“Do you know what happened here?” asked the paramedic.
“The driver appears to have had a heart attack and lost control of his car,” the young woman answered, sounding less shaky now. She went on to describe the driver’s condition in detailed terms, and the Doctor found himself amused by the paramedic’s obvious surprise, even as he shared it.
“You’re a doctor?” asked the paramedic.
The young woman shook her head. “Not yet,” she answered. “I don’t finish until the summer.”
The man smiled, offering his hand. “You’ll make a fine doctor,” he said with certainty.
“Thank you,” she murmured, flushing with embarrassment, but clearly pleased too.
“Are you all right, sir?” asked the paramedic, turning his attention to the Doctor. “Were you in the vehicle too?”
The Time Lord shook his head. “I was moments away from ending up under its wheels,” he answered. “Our would-be doctor here - “ He broke off. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”
“Martha Jones,” she said.
He smiled at her. “Martha saved my life,” he told the paramedic. “She pushed me out of the way of the car before it mounted the pavement.”
The other man’s eyes widened and the Doctor sensed his respect for Martha Jones had increased further at this revelation. “Well done,” he said. “And are you okay?”
Martha nodded. “Yes, I think I just need to sit down.”
The paramedic nodded understandingly, then turned to help his colleague to lift the car driver from his seat onto a stretcher as a police car pulled up behind the ambulance.
“I think they’ve got everything under control,” the Doctor observed.
She gave him a smile. “Let’s go and get some tea,” she suggested, gesturing to the nearby Starbucks. “It’s always good for a shock.”
“Never turn down tea, I always say. That's how wars get started.”
Martha gave him a sidelong look and he smiled, offering his arm to her. She shook her head slightly, but took his arm and allowed him to lead her to the coffee shop.
“Take a seat,” he said.
“Oh, but - “ she began.
“I insist,” he said gently but firmly. He went to the counter, returning a short while later carrying a tray, the contents of which he set down on the table between them.
“Chocolate cake?” asked Martha, raising her eyebrows at the generous slices he’d brought along with a large pot of tea.
He smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. “I thought that it was the least I could offer you as a thank you for saving my life,” he explained. “You do like chocolate cake, don’t you?”
She smiled back at him. “I do, thank you.”
“Good. Help yourself.” He nodded to the plates, then poured them both a cup of tea, offering her a handful of sugar sachets.
He watched as she added two portions of sugar to the tea, then poured in some milk. Lifting his own cup, he clinked it against hers. “To Miss Martha Jones, my personal hero.”
She ducked her head, clearly embarrassed, then took a cautious sip of the tea.
“You must have moved very fast to have seen what was happening and still have had time to push me out of the way of the car,” he observed.
She lifted her head, her expression wary. “I was close behind you,” she said.
He tilted his head to one side, wondering at her wariness. “Really? Then you must have excellent peripheral vision.”
She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, and he sensed that she was enduring an internal struggle.
“What is it?” he asked softly, reaching across the table to gently touch the back of her hand as it clutched the handle of her tea cup. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I know we’ve only just met, but I can be discreet, I assure you.”
Martha took a deep breath, then a mouthful of tea, before answering. “I think I can,” she said, a small frown marring her otherwise flawless dark skin. “I don’t normally talk about personal matters to strangers, but my instincts are telling me to trust you.”
He smiled encouragingly, drinking some of his tea and waiting for her speak again.
”Sometimes I have - well premonitions, I think they are. When I was young, I thought it was just déjà vu, but these days I’m not so sure - too often what I’m seeing doesn’t happen until over an hour later.”
”Go on.”
“I was just walking down the street a little way behind you, thinking that in that green velvet jacket you looked like you had stepped from the set of one of those BBC costume dramas.” She smiled shyly before continuing. “I saw the car mounting the pavement and hitting you, crushing you between it and the wall. So I hurried to catch you up, so I could get you out of its way.”
“You saw it?” he asked curiously, not doubting her, but wondering all the same.
She gave him a quick nod, then picked up her fork and began eating the chocolate cake he’d bought for her. “I saw it as clearly as if I was watching a film,” she said. “But it was at least 2 minutes before it happened. It’s not the first time something like this has happened, and it’s becoming more frequent as I get older.”
“That must be - “ The Doctor paused, searching for the right word. “Disorientating at the very least.”
“When it’s my patients I see dying, and I can’t help them - “ Martha began, then gulped hard, and he saw tears in her eyes.
He reached across the table again and clasped her free hand in his. His touch seemed to steady her because she swallowed a couple of times before continuing.
“Last week a patient whom I was looking after had a massive stroke and died. I’d seen it happen an hour earlier and couldn’t do a thing to help her.” She put down her fork and rubbed at her eyes, her left hand still in his. “It’s getting so bad that I’m thinking of giving up my training. It’s bad enough watching a patient die once, but to see it twice, and still be unable to help, is devastating.”
The Doctor squeezed her fingers gently, sensing that she was only just in control of her emotions. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.
She nodded, then drank some more tea, before speaking again. “The other thing that happens is harder to explain.”
“What else happens?” asked the Doctor quietly, his whole attention focused on Martha.
“Sometimes, when I look at people or things, I get a glimpse of the past.”
He raised an eyebrow, looking thoughtful. “Interesting.” He fished in the pocket of his velvet jacket and brought out a leather bound book. “Can you tell me anything about this?”
Martha took the book from him, turning it over in her hands for a moment, noticing the author and title on the spine: H G Wells - War of the Worlds, then she placed it on the table by his teacup.
“You were going to give it to a friend,” she said. “A young woman with whom you were very close.” She frowned. “This friend has left you recently. You parted company in - Singapore.”
He looked startled, then nodded. “You’re right.” He rubbed his index finger over his top lip, looking even more thoughtful now. “I think I know what’s going on. You’re a Time Sensitive.”
Martha frowned again. “You say that like it’s got capital letters,” she observed.
He smiled. “It has, at least to me. I’m a Time Lord and the understanding of Time is innate to me. Someone who is a pure Time Sensitive can read the time lines, or pick up temporal anomalies. It’s rare that Time Sensitivity manifests in humans though.”
“Whoa! Back up to the bit where you’re a Time Lord - and again I can hear capital letters.”
“I’m an alien,” the Doctor said gently. “I come from a very distant planet where a number of the people are Time Lords. I can travel in Time and Space, and I try to keep the Web of Time from unravelling.”
Martha stared at him, disbelief and hurt in her eyes. “I don’t think mocking other people’s afflictions is very kind,” she said tightly.
He reached across the table again and touched her hand. “Martha, I promise you that I’m not mocking you. I have no reason to lie to you, particularly when you’ve just saved my life.”
She ducked her head, biting her bottom lip. “I’m sorry, it’s just - well, it’s a lot to take in, that’s all. You look human and ordinary, apart from the clothes.”
He lifted his hand from hers and put a finger under her chin, raising it so he could look her in the eye. “A lot of us do,” he answered, smiling. “The humanoid form is a very common one, and it’s pretty adaptable and versatile too.” He tapped her nose gently. “I can prove it to you, although doing so here is probably not a good idea.”
Martha’s eyes widened. “Are you going to sprout tentacles then?”
He laughed. “No, Martha, I am not going to sprout tentacles. But I would prefer some privacy for the demonstration of my proof.”
She looked at him thoughtfully and he sensed her agile brain weighing up pros and cons before she came to a decision. “My flat’s not far from here. I was actually on my way home when we - met.” She picked up her bag and got to her feet, giving him an expectant look.
He smiled, then got up and followed her out into the street. The crashed car was being loaded onto a rescue truck, supervised by two policemen who were directing the traffic around it.
“Do you have a name I can pronounce?” Martha asked.
“Lots,” he answered, his eyes bright with mischief. “My most common alias is John Smith, but most people know me as the Doctor.”
She stopped dead in her tracks, staring at him disbelievingly. “The Doctor,” she said flatly.
He nodded. “Honestly. I’m really not mocking you.”
She shrugged, then set off again, and he kept pace with her.
“I noticed that you didn’t discount the idea of aliens,” he said conversationally. “Just the idea that I am one.”
She glanced sideways at him. “There have been odd happenings in the last few years,” she answered. “The government have tried to cover them up, but I’m not convinced by the stories they’ve told.”
He nodded again. “Aliens have been coming to Earth for years, and the more advanced your technology gets, and the more your space programmes expand, sending out probes to Mars or wherever, the more attention you’re going to draw, one way or another. A few of us come in peace, out of curiosity and a desire for knowledge of other species, but some will want to exploit the Earth or its people in some way.”
Martha let them into a house on a quiet side street, then led the way upstairs to her first floor flat. “Come in,” she said, waving him across the threshold.
The Doctor followed, full of curiosity about this bright young woman; he was quite certain in his own mind that she was the person whom he’d come to Earth to find - the fact that she was a Time Sensitive seemed confirmation, especially since he didn’t really believe in coincidences like that. He wanted to know more about her and how she had acquired her unusual abilities, suspecting that she’d inherited them, and that Martha’s ability had been stronger in earlier generations of her family.
“Have a seat,” she invited, setting her shoulder bag down on the coffee table, then slipping off her jacket.
The Doctor sat down on the sofa. “Have you got a stethoscope handy?”
She looked slightly surprised, then nodded and pulled her white coat from her bag, taking a stethoscope from one pocket. When she looked at the Doctor she saw he was unbuttoning his shirt, and she raised an eyebrow at him; he realised, quite suddenly, that he liked her enquiring, quizzical look - it suited her.
“If you listen to my chest, you’ll get the proof that I’m not a human,” he said.
She moved to sit beside him, putting the earpieces into her ears, then leaned forward to listen to his chest. After a few moments she shot him a startled look, which made him grin cheekily, then she shifted the bell of the stethoscope over to the right side of his chest. He watched her intent expression, and it abruptly occurred to him that he would like her company on his travels: he’d been lonelier than he’d realised since leaving Charley in Singapore, and Martha was exactly the sort of smart, quick-witted and curious person with whom he most enjoyed travelling.
Martha straightened up, pulling the stethoscope from her ears, and looked at him with a mixture of amazement and curiosity in her expression. “You’ve got two hearts,” she said quietly.
“I have,” he agreed solemnly, a smile nevertheless twitching the corners of his mouth.
“What else have you got two of?” she asked.
The Doctor chuckled. “Just the usual,” he said. “But I’ve also got a respiratory bypass system, and rather more senses than you.”
“Wow,” she said softly. “So, how do you travel in Time and Space?" she asked, unconsciously giving the words capital letters.
“I’ve got a ship.”
“A spaceship?”
“Time and Space ship,” he answered. “The TARDIS, which stands for Time and Relative Dimension in Space. She doesn’t look like much, admittedly, but she’s my home away from home.” He watched her, sensing she was bursting to ask more questions. “You could come with me,” he said quickly, determined to ask her before he changed his mind about the wisdom of it. Even with Romana’s orders fresh in his mind, he still wanted to invite Martha along for her own sake, not because she was potentially very important to Earth and Gallifrey.
“I can’t,” she said instantly, but he could hear the regret in her voice. “I’ve got my finals in a few months time, and my family - “ She paused, looking irresolute for a moment. “My family need me,” she finished.
“I could help you with the Time Sensitivity,” he said.
Martha’s gaze sharpened. “You can stop me seeing those things?” she asked hopefully.
He shook his head, regretful in his turn. “No, I’m afraid not. You being a Time Sensitive is as much a part of who you are as your hair, eye or skin colour - you’ve inherited it as you’ve inherited those other things.”
“How?” she asked, her expression more tense and unhappy now.
“You’re almost a qualified doctor, and you don’t know how heredity works?” he teased, trying to lighten her mood.
She glared at him and he winced inwardly at the anger in her expression, realising his joke had been ill-timed. “It’s okay for you, Mr Time Lord; it’s normal for you. But you said yourself that it’s not normal for humans.” She got up from the sofa and moved to the window, her arms wrapped around herself and her shoulders hunched. “If you had any idea how devastatingly painful it is to see people die twice over, you would not sit there and make jokes at my expense.”
He got up quickly, hearing how hurt she was, and moved to stand behind her. “I’m sorry, Martha. It was thoughtless of me to tease you.” He tentatively put a hand on her shoulder and was relieved when she didn’t shrug him off.
“You said, earlier, that you were thinking of giving up your medical training. Do you really want to do that? I may be an alien, but I know that medical training for humans is a fairly lengthy process, requiring lots of hard work. Do you really want to give up now, and waste all your time and hard work? Surely it would be better to have a way of coping with the Time flashes?”
She turned towards him, her dark eyes bright with tears, and he had a sudden sense that she’d been struggling to cope for a long time.
“Let me help, please.”
”Can I think about it?” she asked, her voice wavering slightly.
“Of course,” he answered. He opened his arms to her and she stepped close enough for him to hug her. “It’s going to be okay.” He spoke softly, and began rubbing her back soothingly.
After a minute he felt her body shaking and knew she was crying, and he continued to murmur wordless comfort to her.
“Better?” he asked, once her sobs had subsided.
“Yes, thank you.” She straightened up and pulled a tissue from her pocket to blow her nose. “I’m sorry, I don’t normally go around blubbing on strangers.”
He brushed her hair off her forehead with a gentle touch. “I bet you don’t cry very often at all, do you?” he asked perceptively.
She shook her head and they moved back over to sit on the sofa again. “No. I’m the strong one of the family.” She pulled a face. “I’m the one who’s usually stuck in the middle of family arguments, trying to make peace between them.”
”Do you have a big family?” the Doctor asked.
“Mum, dad, Tish and Leo. Tish is a year older than me, Leo a couple of years younger. My parents split up twelve months ago when Dad went off with a younger woman.”
He winced. “It sounds complicated,” he observed. “And I bet you don’t get much time for yourself, or even much time off from the family dramas.”
“Not really,” she agreed, looking glum.
“You realise that if you come with me, we could be gone for weeks or even months, and I could bring you back just a few hours or days after we left? Even if you don’t want to come travelling with me, at least consider a trip away as a thank you from me for saving my life - and during that time I’ll teach you the basics on how to cope with the Time flashes.”
“I’ll think about it.”
He nodded; he could see she was tempted, but he sensed that if he pushed her too hard, she’d get stubborn and dig her heels in, and he didn’t want her to do that.
“Why don’t I meet you on Friday?” he suggested. “We could either have lunch, or I could meet you for a coffee after you finish work, and you can give me your answer then.”
Her expression brightened. “I finish at one on Friday.”
“Then I’ll buy you a late lunch, and you can give me your decision. Shall we meet at the Starbucks where we had tea and cake today? You know, they're mere decades away from intergalactic dominance?”
Martha gave him a startled look, and he grinned to show her that he was joking. She nodded. “At 1.15pm.”
The Doctor smiled happily. “I look forward to it. I’ll leave you to your studies, now.”
She got up to see him out and surprised him by giving him a quick hug before he left.
Two days later
After leaving Martha the Doctor had made his way back to his TARDIS and made the short ‘hop’ forward to Friday lunchtime in order to meet up with her again. He realised he wasn’t just looking forward to seeing Martha again, but also to showing her the TARDIS: he was sure she’d find it wondrous, and he found he wanted to provoke her wonder.
He left the ship near Martha’s flat, then walked back to Starbucks, smiling in anticipation; it really had been too long since he’d had a travelling companion, and although he’d initially doubted the wisdom of Romana’s suggestion that he find the person they’d seen in the Matrix, he now realised that he wanted Martha’s company on his travels. Her potential role in the future of Gallifrey and the Earth mattered less to him, at the moment, than showing her the marvels of Time and Space travel, and helping her to cope with the Time flashes that were making her life so miserable.
As he turned the corner into the street where he was meeting Martha, he pulled his fobwatch from his waistcoat pocket to check the time, and when he looked up again, he saw her already waiting outside Starbucks. He smiled in pleasure and lengthened his stride, then he caught sight of the anxiety in her expression, and felt his own smile fade.
”Hello Martha. What’s wrong?”
“Hello.” She gave him a half-smile that lacked humour or warmth. “I had a premonition earlier.”
“About one of your patients?” he asked immediately.
“No.”
He tilted his head, giving her a thoughtful look. “About me?”
“About us,” she answered.
He gave her a startled look, wondering what she could have seen to make her so anxious, then took her arm and led her into the coffee shop, guiding her into a seat. “What did you see?” he asked quietly.
“Mannequins - you know, the plastic dummies they put in shop windows to display clothes - attacking people. They were animated somehow, smashing their way through the windows and - and - shooting people.”
“Blast!” exclaimed the Doctor. “That sounds suspiciously like the Autons.” He scowled. “Which means there’s a Nestene Consciousness somewhere.”
He looked at Martha's worried and uncomprehending expression. "Can you wait a little longer to eat? I really need to get back to the TARDIS to runs some scans of the area."
She nodded, her dark eyes wide with emotion. "I had a quick bite before I left the hospital, just in case this was something serious."
He gave her a warm smile. "That's what I like about doctors: you're so practical."
Martha ducked her head a little, but he could see she was pleased by his compliment. "Where is your ship?"
"I left her near your flat," he answered, getting to his feet. "Shall we?"
She nodded, getting up also, then followed him out into the street, and they hurried towards Martha's flat.
"Doesn't it bother you that people give you funny looks when they see your clothes?" she asked after a few minutes of walking.
"They do?" he asked, glancing at her before looking around at their fellow pedestrians. He smiled at her. "I hadn't really noticed."
She gave him a disbelieving look and his smile widened. "Martha, Martha, Martha, my clothes rarely fit the period of history in which I find myself. But then again, given that I frequently look out of place as a humanoid, I don't tend to worry about it."
Martha shook her head, but he could see a smile lurking and he chuckled, then led her down a small side road off the street where she lived, and hurried towards the TARDIS.
"This is your ship?" she asked, staring as he strode up to a tall blue Police Call Box and unlocked the door.
"Yes," the Doctor answered simply, holding the door open and beckoning for her to enter.
She approached warily. "That's never big enough for two of us," she pointed out, stopping just short of entering the ship.
"You'd be surprised," he answered. He took her hand in his, squeezing her fingers in a reassuring manner, then led her over the threshold.
"Oh!" Martha's gasp of surprise and awe, and the look of wonder shining in her eyes when she saw the interior of the TARDIS made the Doctor smile in pleasure and satisfaction.
"Welcome to the TARDIS," he said, turning to close the outer door behind her, then crossing towards a hexagonal console off to one side.
"Don't you have a crew?" she asked, looking around and obviously noticing the lack of other people. "In Star Trek they have dozens of people on the bridge alone."
"There's just me at the moment," he answered sadly, trying not to think of Charley.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry," she said with quick and ready sympathy.
"You didn't," he assured her, his hands busy with the myriad buttons, levers and switches in front of him. He glanced up from his task and smiled at her. "It was a reasonable question, and usually I have one or more travelling companions, good friends whom I've met here or there during my journeys. But since my last companion left, I've been on my own."
"Is that the friend you were going to give Wells' book to?" Martha asked curiously.
The Doctor nodded, then uttered a satisfied cry. "Aha!" He flicked a switch, then looked upwards, and saw from the corner of his eye that she had followed suit to see a three dimensional map of London projected onto the ceiling. There were thousands of blue-green lights on the map, but there was also an orange-red blob near the river.
"What's that?" Martha asked, pointing up at it.
"That's a Nestene Consciousness," he answered, moving around the console and flicking some switches until the bird's eye point of view zoomed closer in a slightly dizzying manner.
She frowned. "What's a Nestene Consciousness? How's it related to those other things you mentioned - Autons, wasn't it?"
He grinned at her, pleased by her questions. "Autons are animated plastic objects," he explained. "Usually they're shop dummies armed with an energy weapon. A Nestene Consciousness is what animates an Auton - they can change the molecular structure of any plastic object, energising it and turning it into quasi-organic material that can function like flesh and blood."
He glanced upwards again at the map, which had became a more highly detailed close-up of the area where the orange-red blob was positioned.
"It looks as if the Nestene is somewhere in the vicinity of the Houses of Parliament," he said as he stared upwards. "There must be something near there which it plans to use to focus its control signal, which will allow it to activate every Auton in London, and beyond."
"The London Eye," Martha said abruptly. He looked down at her, one eyebrow raised in enquiry. "It's a giant Ferris Wheel, and it's on the South Bank of the Thames, opposite the Houses of Parliament. It's a hugely popular tourist attraction."
"Ah, then it's likely that the Nestene Consciousness is intending to use that as its focus for the control signal."
As they both looked back up at the map, the orange-red blob seemed to flare in intensity, becoming brighter and stronger.
"That doesn't look good," Martha observed in a worried tone.
"It's not," the Doctor answered, his voice full of anxiety as he turned his attention back to the hexagonal console. "Hold on to something."
She grabbed one of the support struts surrounding the console, swaying slightly as the TARDIS dematerialised and shifted through Space, but not Time, to rematerialise not far from the London Eye.
"I'm going to talk to the Nestene, try to persuade it to leave Earth alone, but in case I can't, I need a weapon," he told her, heading towards an archway at the back of the room.
"A gun?" Martha asked doubtfully.
"No, a gun won't help. I need some anti-plastic. I've got some in my lab - I'll be back in a few minutes."
When the Doctor returned he found her by the bookshelves that ran along the far wall of the main room. He walked towards her, smiling at the sight of her with her nose buried in a textbook on Xenobiology.
"Ready?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder to gain her attention.
"Ready," she agreed, shelving the book with a slightly regretful expression.
"You can come back and read it afterwards," he promised.
She nodded, then followed him across the room to the doors. The Doctor gave her a confident smile, then stepped outside, Martha close on his heels.
"Where are we?" she asked, looking around in an attempt to get her bearings.
"Just off Westminster Bridge," he answered. "Wordsworth's favourite spot, although I'm not sure he'd be so fond of it now as he was back then."
She gave him a bewildered look, and he grinned at her. "We need to find the Nestene."
"So what are we doing standing and chatting here then?" she asked pointedly.
His grin widened. "A good question," he answered. "Come on."
He darted away towards the Ferris Wheel, and Martha hurried after him. Suddenly the Eye above them lit up with a blinding blue light, and they heard screams and cries of terror from the passengers inside the capsules overhead. Martha skidded to a halt and peered up at the towering structure.
"I've got to go and help them," she told the Doctor urgently.
He turned and hurried back to her side, catching hold of her shoulders. "Be careful," he said earnestly.
"Of course," she said quickly, then gave him a startled look when he quickly kissed her forehead before hurrying away.
He tried not to think too much about the fact Martha was becoming important to him - he knew he shouldn't get too attached to her since she still hadn't agreed to travel with him, but this incarnation, apparently, was even more inclined to become close to humans than any of his previous selves.
He sighed, then made a conscious decision not to think about Martha until he had finished dealing with the Nestene Consciousness - it wouldn't do for him to be distracted at a vital moment.
He traced the source of the signal that was being broadcast by the Nestene Consciousness to an outbuilding near the giant Ferris wheel, and the sonic screwdriver made short work of the locked door that stood in his way. He hurried inside, following the alien gurglings and roars of the creature that was probably already controlling the hundreds of shop display mannequins that were scattered throughout the city.
The Doctor found himself on a walkway that overlooked a vast vat filled with a shapeless orange-yellow mass that seethed and writhed as it pulsed with power. As he moved into view the creature's roars increased in volume and the Time Lord found himself automatically damping down his sense of hearing to avoid being deafened.
"I am the Doctor," he called loudly, his hands folded behind his back as he looked down on it. The volume of noise rose still further and he winced slightly, then it subsided to a more bearable level. "I know that name is not unknown to you. This is the third time you've tried to invade this planet, and on both the previous occasions I defeated you. Do you really believe that I won't stop you again?"
The Nestene Consciousness 'spoke' to him, defying him while also trying to justify its behaviour.
"Not good enough!" shouted the Doctor angrily. "You have two choices: leave peacefully now, or I will destroy you." He pulled his hands from behind his back, brandishing a long, stoppered tube full of a thick blue liquid. "This is anti-plastic, and I'm quite sure you're fully aware of the damage even a small amount would do to you."
The creature began to screech with alarm and fear, and at the same moment the Doctor belatedly became aware that he was no longer alone on the walkway: two Autons were moving towards him from either side, and his retreat was cut off.
* * * * * *
Martha ran towards the building nearest the London Eye, which she knew housed the ticket office and boarding station. Just as she arrived there was another surge of blue light from the wheel above her, and she found herself mentally urging the Doctor to hurry up and do whatever it was he planned to do to sort out the Nestene Consciousness.
Racing into the building she found the staff milling around in a state of near panic, a hubbub of noise filling the air.
"Quiet!" she yelled as loudly as she could.
Startled, everyone fell silent, turning to her in surprise.
"I'm a doctor," she said clearly into the ringing silence. "The most important thing for us to is to stay calm and get everyone off the wheel."
"But what's going on?" demanded one of the members of staff, an officious-looking young man whom Martha immediately decided was likely to be more trouble than he was worth.
"I don't know," she answered, not wanting to admit that it was aliens. "But what's happening is less important than the safety of your passengers. We must get everyone out of the capsules as quickly as we can without causing a panic." She glanced around. "You need to get out your First Aid supplies and ring for an ambulance. Anyone who knows First Aid should join me; the rest of you should concentrate on helping the passengers who are neither injured nor shocked to somewhere that they can sit down and catch their breath before they go home."
To Martha's relief people began to move about in a more organised manner, and four of the staff joined her as she moved across to the spot where the passengers boarded the capsules; one, she noticed, was the young man who'd spoken earlier, and she hoped he'd prove capable of prioritising what needed to be done.
They got the doors of the first capsule open after a brief struggle, and Martha immediately stepped inside and spoke in a calm manner, noticing that some people looked panicky.
"My name is Martha Jones and I'm a doctor," she told them, deciding to claim the title she'd nearly earned. "If anyone is hurt or feeling unwell, please let me know." At least they're all conscious, she thought as she moved towards an elderly couple as the man beckoned her over with an urgent gesture. No one else was indicating they needed medical attention, so Martha encouraged them to leave the capsule as she went to assess the old man.
"It's my wife," he said. "She was thrown from the seat when the Eye jerked to a stop. I think her left arm is broken."
Martha spoke softly to the woman. "Hello, love. I'm just going to check your arm, and then we'll see about fixing it up for you."
The woman gave her a bleary look and Martha frowned in concern. "Did you bang your head as well?" she asked.
"She did hit her head, I think," the man said, his voice full of fearful anxiety.
"She looks as if she may be concussed," Martha said as she carefully checked the woman's pupils. "What's her name?"
"Alice, and I'm Ted."
"And are you okay, Ted?" Martha asked as she began to gently feel her way along Alice's arm.
"Bit shook up," he answered. "Could do with a cup of tea."
She gave him a warm smile, then pulled a sling from the First Aid kit she'd been given. "All right, Alice, I'm just going to put your arm in this sling to rest it, and then we'll see about getting the bone set and a cast put on." She finished pinning the sling in place, and then she and Ted walked Alice over to the door and helped her out of the capsule.
To Martha's relief the paramedics had arrived and one, she quickly discovered, was the same red-haired man she'd met two days ago when she'd saved the Doctor from the car. The man's eyes widened in surprise when he recognised Martha, but he didn't waste time on asking her why she was present, thereby gaining her respect. He and his colleague listened intently as Martha briefly explained about Alice's broken arm and probable concussion, and then his colleague helped Ted to guide Alice across the booking hall to a seat.
"I'm David McDonald," the paramedic said. "And I'm glad to see you here Martha. A calm and capable person is exactly what we need."
She blushed, but shook his hand, then waited beside him as the wheel of the Eye moved around to allow them to enter the next capsule.
By the time the third capsule's passengers had disembarked Martha and the two paramedics had been joined by four more as another two ambulances had arrived, and she was beginning to think she could legitimately go in search of the Doctor. She was about to tell David so when she heard a voice raised in anger and turning, she saw that the officious young man, Browning, was confronting a man and his young daughter. She'd found the little girl almost paralysed with fright by the events of the afternoon and her father had been in a bit of a panic too at the thought of what his ex-wife would say when she found out what had happened.
It had taken Martha a good ten minutes of quiet, patient coaxing to get the little girl, Sammy, to relax sufficiently so that she and her father could be helped from the capsule, and now that idiot boy was shouting at her.
Martha stormed across the booking hall and grabbed him forcefully by the shoulder, hauling him around to speak in a fierce undertone in his ear.
"If you don't shut up, so help me, I'm going to smack you from here to next Wednesday."
Browning had been startled into silence when she grabbed him, and he was now staring at her with a mixture of fear and anger battling for dominance in his expression.
"Why are you shouting at a frightened child?" she demanded.
"She's just peed on a seat," Browning answered angrily.
"She's five years old and just been frightened half to death, you idiot!" Martha said furiously. "Children don't have the same control as adults in a situation like this, not that you're a model of self-control either." Her tone was contemptuous.
Browning opened his mouth to retort, but she cut him off. "Just shut up! And stop making a fuss about something so trivial and unimportant when there are people's lives at stake."
He stumbled backwards when she let go of his shoulder, looking as if he'd been scalded, but Martha heard him muttering angrily under his breath as he moved away. She dismissed him from her mind and crouched down in front of the little girl.
"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Sammy gave an uncertain nod and Martha fished in the pocket of her jacket. "I want you to do something for me, if you can. This is Zhi and she's a Serbian white tiger cub. She needs someone to look after her. Do you think you could do that for me?"
Sammy pulled her finger from her mouth to utter a quiet agreement, her other hand reaching out to stroke the head of the soft toy that Martha held.
The young woman looked up at Sammy's dad who was looking grateful, then gave the tiger cub to the little girl. Sammy immediately began a whispered conversation with the toy animal, stroking its head and back.
"Thank you, for everything," Mr Taylor said in a heartfelt tone.
"You're welcome," Martha said sincerely.
"What do I owe you for the toy?" he asked, sounding hesitant.
"Nothing," she answered. "Unless you want to make a small donation to a tiger charity."
"I will," he assured her quickly. He looked down at Sammy. "Why Zhi?" he asked.
Martha smiled. "It's Chinese, and it means both 'wisdom' and 'healer'," she answered.
He held out his hand and she shook it. "It seems very apt for such a wise doctor," he told her.
Martha felt her face heating up and was glad to be spared the necessity of finding an answer by Sammy tugging at her dad's hand and asking to go home.
As they made their way across the booking hall, Martha had a sudden vision of the Doctor struggling against two figures, and she knew she had to go and find him. She hurried back to where she'd left her shoulder bag, then slipped through the crowd of passengers and out into the street.
Looking around, she spotted an outbuilding, the one she vaguely recalled the Doctor running towards when they'd arrived. She hurried over and opened the door, then stepped carefully inside. She could hear a voice shouting, and an unearthly shrieking, growling noise. She moved forward slowly and carefully, and was relieved when she spotted the Doctor ahead of her on a walkway that overlooked the lower floor of the building. Her relief was short-lived, however, when she realised that he had been chained to the wall, and she hurried towards him. He saw her approaching and his eyes widened with surprise before he gave her a relieved smile.
"Hello. I'm very glad to see you. This being tied up lark gets a bit dull after a while." He sounded quite cheerful, she noted, but she could also sense considerable tension in him.
"If you look in the left inside pocket of my jacket, you'll find my sonic screwdriver," he told her.
"Where are the two men who chained you up?" she asked, sliding her hand inside his jacket - a manoeuvre made awkward by the fact that his arms had been folded across his chest before being chained.
"Those were Autons, not men," the Doctor answered.
"And the thing in the vat, that's trying to deafen us? I presume that's the Nestene Consciousness?"
"Got it one, Martha!" he exclaimed excitedly.
"It was elementary, my dear Doctor," she retorted, grinning.
"Ooh that Sherlock Holmes fellow is a smart one. I - mmph, mmph, mmph." He found the rest of his excited remarks cut off by Martha placing her hand over his mouth as she waggled the sonic in front of his face.
"What do I do with this?" she asked, then removed her hand.
He grinned at her, his eyes bright with amusement, but to her relief he didn't start babbling again; instead he told her how to use the sonic to undo the large padlock that was fastened to the chains that bound him, and it was the work of a few moments to release him.
"Now what?" she asked.
"Now we deal with those two," he answered, nodding over her shoulder.
Martha span around and saw two Autons approaching them. "Uh oh."
There was a buzzing noise behind her and she glanced back to see the Doctor waving his sonic screwdriver at the two plastic dummies.
"Um, Doctor," she said worriedly, as the Autons raised their right arms and pointed them straight at her and the Time Lord.
"Damn!" muttered the Doctor, sounding cross.
"What's happening?" asked Martha as the Autons' hands slowly dropped downwards from the wrist.
"I can't seem to find the right frequency to interrupt the signal," he answered, twiddling with the controls on the sonic.
"What happened to the anti-plastic?" she asked urgently.
"The Autons took it from me," he said, waving the sonic in the direction of the approaching robots.
"What?" gasped Martha astounded.
"It may be around here somewhere," he told her, his attention still on the device in his hand.
She looked down at walkway, her eyes darting here and there as she looked for a gleam of light on glass in the dimness of the building.
"There!" she said, pointing to a tube full of blue liquid that lay several feet away at the edge of the walkway.
"We're going to have to use it," the Doctor said desperately. "I tried reasoning with the Nestene Consciousness, but it wouldn't listen to reason."
The two Autons fired, at the same moment that Martha dived across the walkway to snatch up the tube.
"Throw it into the vat, Martha!" the Doctor called urgently.
She didn't hesitate to comply, throwing it hard and fast over the railing and straight into the middle of the vat. Then she turned and saw the Doctor wrestling with the Autons for a second time.
"That's enough!" she shouted angrily, snatching up a long metal bar from the ground and charging towards the dummies. She cracked both of them over the back of the head, and they tumbled to the ground as the screeching of the Nestene Consciousness reached an even greater volume.
"Come on," the Doctor said urgently, grabbing her wrist. "We need to get out of here before that thing blows."
She gave him a horrified look, then they sprinted for the door, bursting out into the late afternoon sunlight with a sense of relief.
There was a dull boom behind them, and the Doctor grabbed her, pulling her down to crouch behind a low wall as bits of debris from the building hurtled overhead.
"You okay?" he asked anxiously.
"Fine. What about you, though?"
He gave her a manic grin. "I'm okay," he answered.
They straightened up from behind the wall and saw half the roof of the outbuilding was missing, and there were roof tiles and lumps of concrete scattered about between them and the remains of the building.
"That was a jolly good throw," the Doctor told her admiringly as he offered her his arm and they walked back to the TARDIS together.
"Thanks," she answered, blushing slightly.
"So, Martha, are you coming with me?" he asked as he closed the TARDIS doors behind them.
"Is it always this dangerous?" she asked.
"Not always, no, but I'd be lying if I didn't say it's like this most of the time." He tilted his head to one side, looking at her from under his long lashes. "Go on," he said. "You know you want to really. I can see it in your face."
She laughed softly. "I do," she agreed.
"Excellent!" He ran around the hexagonal console, and a moment later she felt the ship shift again. "We'll go back to your flat to get some clothes and whatever else you might like to bring with you," he told her, "and then I'll take you to Gallifrey, my home planet. There are a couple of people I want you to meet."
He reached across the console, offering a hand, and grinning at her. "Welcome aboard, Miss Jones."
"Thank you, Mr Smith," she answered with a grin of her own as she shook his hand.
Title: Tempus Edax Rerum 1: Time Sensitive
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha Jones, Eighth Doctor, Romana II, Autons
Rating: PG (for danger)
Spoilers: BFA: The Girl Who Never Was
Summary: The companionless Eighth Doctor meets an unusual young medical student.
Disclaimer: I occasionally wish that I did own it!
Author Notes: This is the first of an AU fic series which is set just before the 'Gallifrey' audio series for Romana II, after 'The Girl That Never Was' for Eight, and features a slightly AU version of Martha Jones - she's essentially the same person, but with one slight addition to her talents, and she's never met the Doctor before.
Many thanks to catholicphoton who has allowed me to blather endlessly at her about not only this fic, but the entire series to which it is the introduction, and read bits of it as I was writing it.
Betas: The lovely fourzoas and catholicphoton
Index post
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Fic Banner by nschick
Tempus Edax Rerum: Time, devourer of all things
Prologue
Lady Romanadvoratrelundar, President of the High Council of Gallifrey, was in the Presidential suite after a lengthy and tedious meeting with the head of the CIA; she was planning to have a quiet, leisurely lunch and catch up on some reading, and had given K9 orders to ensure that no one interrupted her. Of course, he was stationed outside the suite - meaning he was in no position to repel intruders who materialised a Type 40 time capsule in the middle of her sitting room.
The door creaked open in what Romana considered an unnecessarily theatrical manner, and a head of curly brown hair popped through it, followed closely by the rest of the Time Lord clad in his green velvet jacket and a pair of pale brown trousers.
“Hello Romana,” he said cheerily. “You called me?”
“Hello Doctor.” She suppressed a small sigh at the fact that he hadn’t landed his TARDIS in the TARDIS bays, but then the Doctor, as she knew from long association, rarely did what was expected.
”Tea?” she asked, nodding at the low table between the sofa and her favourite armchair, on which a tray rested.
“Yes please!” he answered eagerly, flopping down into the armchair in an inelegant manner and beaming happily at her. “So, what can I do for you? I don’t suppose you called me back to Gallifrey so we could go punting on the Cam again or fishing on Tara?”
"I am afraid not, Doctor." Romana poured the tea and passed the Doctor a cup and saucer. "I am rather hoping that you will find someone for me, someone on Earth."
"Anyone in particular?" he asked, peering at her over the top of his cup.
"Mm, yes. I saw someone in the Matrix - and the glimpses I got of them seemed to indicate that this person will be important to both Gallifrey and Earth."
His eyebrows rose. "Interesting. Do we know anything about this person?"
"Not much, I am afraid," she answered. "I can share with you the image I saw, but it was a back view - I cannot even be certain if they were male or female. But I do know they were dark-skinned."
"Did you gain any impression of where on Earth I might find this person?"
The President shook her head. "Sorry, no."
"This is going to be a bit like looking for the proverbial needle, then," observed the Doctor.
"I know, and I am sorry, Doctor, but I do think it is important that we find them. A human showing up in the Matrix is so rare that I have to believe it's significant, that they are significant."
He scowled. "Is it really a good idea for us to get involved in the lives of humans again? Look what happened to Charley."
Romana gave him a long, steady look until he fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair. "What happened with Charley was different," she said. "You told me yourself that you knew that she should have died in the R101 crash from the way the Vortisaur behaved towards her, but you chose to ignore that."
His scowl deepened and he buried his face in his cup, as if drinking his tea was the most important thing he could be doing right now.
"How long has it been since you and Charley parted company?" asked Romana, her tone gentler than before. She knew that he had a tendency to get very attached to his travelling companions, especially the young female ones.
He shrugged eloquently. "A while."
"And you haven't found anyone else to travel with." It was more of a statement than a question.
"No." He glanced up fleetingly at Romana, then looked away again.
"Doctor, I know you miss Charley, and that you and she became very close as a result of being stuck in the Divergent universe together, but I really do need you to find this person - for Gallifrey's sake, not just yours or mine, and no one else here knows humans as well as you do."
"Oh, very well," the Doctor said begrudgingly. "And once I find this person, what am I supposed to do with them?"
Romana raised an elegant eyebrow at him. "Bring them here so we can establish their potentiality," she answered. "You realise that the skirmishes between Daleks and our allies are becoming more frequent, and the other temporal powers are being increasingly aggressive about the existence of Gryben."
"I knew about the Daleks, yes," the Doctor agreed. "I've no idea about the situation regarding Gryben. You know me, Romana, I try to stay out of Time Lord politics. I leave that sort of thing in your capable hands." He gave her a smile.
"Flattery will get you nowhere Doctor," she answered stifling her own smile. "It's vitally important that Gallifrey has all the allies and all the help she can find, and if this human can help us, then the sooner we can find them, the better."
"You'd better show me the image you have of them, then," the Doctor said, still sounding a trifle grumpy.
"Thank you, Doctor."
* * * * * *
As he walked down a quiet London street the Doctor wondered where to begin in his search for the person whom he and Romana had seen in the Matrix. He wasn’t even sure why he’d come here first: there were more obvious places on Earth to look for someone with dark skin, but London and its environs seemed the most like home of all the many places on Earth he’d visited. He smiled suddenly as he remembered the Brigadier, Benton, Liz Shaw and Sarah Jane, and he wondered what they were all doing now.
“Look out!” cried a voice close to his ear, startling him from his pleasant reminiscences as a body collided with his, arms wrapping about his torso, and sending him flying across the pavement moments before a car mounted the curb alongside which he’d been walking. Cries and screams filled the air as the car plunged at an angle across the pavement and into the front of a building with the sound of rending metal as the front left bumper collided with the building mere inches from his feet. For a moment the Doctor lay stunned where he’d fallen, staring up at the car and its driver, whom he could see was slumped over the wheel. The dark skinned young woman who’d been lying half on top of him scrambled up to her feet and around the front of the car, tugging open the driver’s door one-handed while fishing in her pocket with the other.
“Call an ambulance,” she shouted urgently, and a moment later a shining object flew towards him. He snatched it out of the air without thinking about it, then stared at it in bewilderment until he registered that it was a mobile phone. He hit the 9 key three times as he picked himself up from the ground, noticing absent-mindedly that the young woman seemed to know what she was doing as she dealt with the driver.
The Doctor spoke succinctly to the operator, telling him where to send the ambulance, and why, then ended the call, moving around the front of the car to speak to the young woman.
”The ambulance is on its way,” he said. “Is he - ?” He nodded at the driver.
”Still alive,” she answered, straightening up and accepting her phone, looking hugely relieved as she slipped it back into her pocket. “Are you okay?” She was frowning up at his face, he realised, and the Doctor reached up to discover a large swelling on his left temple.
“I’ll mend,” he said, smiling at her. “Your reactions are very fast, thank you.”
She gave him a smile that looked shaky, then closed her eyes, and he stepped closer to put a hand on her left arm, worried that she was going to pass out. “Are you okay?” he asked quickly.
“I - “ She turned away, then bent over and vomited briefly.
“Delayed reaction,” he said sympathetically, rubbing her back for a moment, then offering her a large white handkerchief to wipe her mouth. He looked around just as the ambulance pulled up, its siren almost deafening at such close proximity.
“Excuse me?” said a voice behind them, and they both turned to see a red-haired man in his 30s wearing the green and yellow uniform of a paramedic.
“Yes?” the Doctor asked.
“Do you know what happened here?” asked the paramedic.
“The driver appears to have had a heart attack and lost control of his car,” the young woman answered, sounding less shaky now. She went on to describe the driver’s condition in detailed terms, and the Doctor found himself amused by the paramedic’s obvious surprise, even as he shared it.
“You’re a doctor?” asked the paramedic.
The young woman shook her head. “Not yet,” she answered. “I don’t finish until the summer.”
The man smiled, offering his hand. “You’ll make a fine doctor,” he said with certainty.
“Thank you,” she murmured, flushing with embarrassment, but clearly pleased too.
“Are you all right, sir?” asked the paramedic, turning his attention to the Doctor. “Were you in the vehicle too?”
The Time Lord shook his head. “I was moments away from ending up under its wheels,” he answered. “Our would-be doctor here - “ He broke off. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”
“Martha Jones,” she said.
He smiled at her. “Martha saved my life,” he told the paramedic. “She pushed me out of the way of the car before it mounted the pavement.”
The other man’s eyes widened and the Doctor sensed his respect for Martha Jones had increased further at this revelation. “Well done,” he said. “And are you okay?”
Martha nodded. “Yes, I think I just need to sit down.”
The paramedic nodded understandingly, then turned to help his colleague to lift the car driver from his seat onto a stretcher as a police car pulled up behind the ambulance.
“I think they’ve got everything under control,” the Doctor observed.
She gave him a smile. “Let’s go and get some tea,” she suggested, gesturing to the nearby Starbucks. “It’s always good for a shock.”
“Never turn down tea, I always say. That's how wars get started.”
Martha gave him a sidelong look and he smiled, offering his arm to her. She shook her head slightly, but took his arm and allowed him to lead her to the coffee shop.
“Take a seat,” he said.
“Oh, but - “ she began.
“I insist,” he said gently but firmly. He went to the counter, returning a short while later carrying a tray, the contents of which he set down on the table between them.
“Chocolate cake?” asked Martha, raising her eyebrows at the generous slices he’d brought along with a large pot of tea.
He smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. “I thought that it was the least I could offer you as a thank you for saving my life,” he explained. “You do like chocolate cake, don’t you?”
She smiled back at him. “I do, thank you.”
“Good. Help yourself.” He nodded to the plates, then poured them both a cup of tea, offering her a handful of sugar sachets.
He watched as she added two portions of sugar to the tea, then poured in some milk. Lifting his own cup, he clinked it against hers. “To Miss Martha Jones, my personal hero.”
She ducked her head, clearly embarrassed, then took a cautious sip of the tea.
“You must have moved very fast to have seen what was happening and still have had time to push me out of the way of the car,” he observed.
She lifted her head, her expression wary. “I was close behind you,” she said.
He tilted his head to one side, wondering at her wariness. “Really? Then you must have excellent peripheral vision.”
She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, and he sensed that she was enduring an internal struggle.
“What is it?” he asked softly, reaching across the table to gently touch the back of her hand as it clutched the handle of her tea cup. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I know we’ve only just met, but I can be discreet, I assure you.”
Martha took a deep breath, then a mouthful of tea, before answering. “I think I can,” she said, a small frown marring her otherwise flawless dark skin. “I don’t normally talk about personal matters to strangers, but my instincts are telling me to trust you.”
He smiled encouragingly, drinking some of his tea and waiting for her speak again.
”Sometimes I have - well premonitions, I think they are. When I was young, I thought it was just déjà vu, but these days I’m not so sure - too often what I’m seeing doesn’t happen until over an hour later.”
”Go on.”
“I was just walking down the street a little way behind you, thinking that in that green velvet jacket you looked like you had stepped from the set of one of those BBC costume dramas.” She smiled shyly before continuing. “I saw the car mounting the pavement and hitting you, crushing you between it and the wall. So I hurried to catch you up, so I could get you out of its way.”
“You saw it?” he asked curiously, not doubting her, but wondering all the same.
She gave him a quick nod, then picked up her fork and began eating the chocolate cake he’d bought for her. “I saw it as clearly as if I was watching a film,” she said. “But it was at least 2 minutes before it happened. It’s not the first time something like this has happened, and it’s becoming more frequent as I get older.”
“That must be - “ The Doctor paused, searching for the right word. “Disorientating at the very least.”
“When it’s my patients I see dying, and I can’t help them - “ Martha began, then gulped hard, and he saw tears in her eyes.
He reached across the table again and clasped her free hand in his. His touch seemed to steady her because she swallowed a couple of times before continuing.
“Last week a patient whom I was looking after had a massive stroke and died. I’d seen it happen an hour earlier and couldn’t do a thing to help her.” She put down her fork and rubbed at her eyes, her left hand still in his. “It’s getting so bad that I’m thinking of giving up my training. It’s bad enough watching a patient die once, but to see it twice, and still be unable to help, is devastating.”
The Doctor squeezed her fingers gently, sensing that she was only just in control of her emotions. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.
She nodded, then drank some more tea, before speaking again. “The other thing that happens is harder to explain.”
“What else happens?” asked the Doctor quietly, his whole attention focused on Martha.
“Sometimes, when I look at people or things, I get a glimpse of the past.”
He raised an eyebrow, looking thoughtful. “Interesting.” He fished in the pocket of his velvet jacket and brought out a leather bound book. “Can you tell me anything about this?”
Martha took the book from him, turning it over in her hands for a moment, noticing the author and title on the spine: H G Wells - War of the Worlds, then she placed it on the table by his teacup.
“You were going to give it to a friend,” she said. “A young woman with whom you were very close.” She frowned. “This friend has left you recently. You parted company in - Singapore.”
He looked startled, then nodded. “You’re right.” He rubbed his index finger over his top lip, looking even more thoughtful now. “I think I know what’s going on. You’re a Time Sensitive.”
Martha frowned again. “You say that like it’s got capital letters,” she observed.
He smiled. “It has, at least to me. I’m a Time Lord and the understanding of Time is innate to me. Someone who is a pure Time Sensitive can read the time lines, or pick up temporal anomalies. It’s rare that Time Sensitivity manifests in humans though.”
“Whoa! Back up to the bit where you’re a Time Lord - and again I can hear capital letters.”
“I’m an alien,” the Doctor said gently. “I come from a very distant planet where a number of the people are Time Lords. I can travel in Time and Space, and I try to keep the Web of Time from unravelling.”
Martha stared at him, disbelief and hurt in her eyes. “I don’t think mocking other people’s afflictions is very kind,” she said tightly.
He reached across the table again and touched her hand. “Martha, I promise you that I’m not mocking you. I have no reason to lie to you, particularly when you’ve just saved my life.”
She ducked her head, biting her bottom lip. “I’m sorry, it’s just - well, it’s a lot to take in, that’s all. You look human and ordinary, apart from the clothes.”
He lifted his hand from hers and put a finger under her chin, raising it so he could look her in the eye. “A lot of us do,” he answered, smiling. “The humanoid form is a very common one, and it’s pretty adaptable and versatile too.” He tapped her nose gently. “I can prove it to you, although doing so here is probably not a good idea.”
Martha’s eyes widened. “Are you going to sprout tentacles then?”
He laughed. “No, Martha, I am not going to sprout tentacles. But I would prefer some privacy for the demonstration of my proof.”
She looked at him thoughtfully and he sensed her agile brain weighing up pros and cons before she came to a decision. “My flat’s not far from here. I was actually on my way home when we - met.” She picked up her bag and got to her feet, giving him an expectant look.
He smiled, then got up and followed her out into the street. The crashed car was being loaded onto a rescue truck, supervised by two policemen who were directing the traffic around it.
“Do you have a name I can pronounce?” Martha asked.
“Lots,” he answered, his eyes bright with mischief. “My most common alias is John Smith, but most people know me as the Doctor.”
She stopped dead in her tracks, staring at him disbelievingly. “The Doctor,” she said flatly.
He nodded. “Honestly. I’m really not mocking you.”
She shrugged, then set off again, and he kept pace with her.
“I noticed that you didn’t discount the idea of aliens,” he said conversationally. “Just the idea that I am one.”
She glanced sideways at him. “There have been odd happenings in the last few years,” she answered. “The government have tried to cover them up, but I’m not convinced by the stories they’ve told.”
He nodded again. “Aliens have been coming to Earth for years, and the more advanced your technology gets, and the more your space programmes expand, sending out probes to Mars or wherever, the more attention you’re going to draw, one way or another. A few of us come in peace, out of curiosity and a desire for knowledge of other species, but some will want to exploit the Earth or its people in some way.”
Martha let them into a house on a quiet side street, then led the way upstairs to her first floor flat. “Come in,” she said, waving him across the threshold.
The Doctor followed, full of curiosity about this bright young woman; he was quite certain in his own mind that she was the person whom he’d come to Earth to find - the fact that she was a Time Sensitive seemed confirmation, especially since he didn’t really believe in coincidences like that. He wanted to know more about her and how she had acquired her unusual abilities, suspecting that she’d inherited them, and that Martha’s ability had been stronger in earlier generations of her family.
“Have a seat,” she invited, setting her shoulder bag down on the coffee table, then slipping off her jacket.
The Doctor sat down on the sofa. “Have you got a stethoscope handy?”
She looked slightly surprised, then nodded and pulled her white coat from her bag, taking a stethoscope from one pocket. When she looked at the Doctor she saw he was unbuttoning his shirt, and she raised an eyebrow at him; he realised, quite suddenly, that he liked her enquiring, quizzical look - it suited her.
“If you listen to my chest, you’ll get the proof that I’m not a human,” he said.
She moved to sit beside him, putting the earpieces into her ears, then leaned forward to listen to his chest. After a few moments she shot him a startled look, which made him grin cheekily, then she shifted the bell of the stethoscope over to the right side of his chest. He watched her intent expression, and it abruptly occurred to him that he would like her company on his travels: he’d been lonelier than he’d realised since leaving Charley in Singapore, and Martha was exactly the sort of smart, quick-witted and curious person with whom he most enjoyed travelling.
Martha straightened up, pulling the stethoscope from her ears, and looked at him with a mixture of amazement and curiosity in her expression. “You’ve got two hearts,” she said quietly.
“I have,” he agreed solemnly, a smile nevertheless twitching the corners of his mouth.
“What else have you got two of?” she asked.
The Doctor chuckled. “Just the usual,” he said. “But I’ve also got a respiratory bypass system, and rather more senses than you.”
“Wow,” she said softly. “So, how do you travel in Time and Space?" she asked, unconsciously giving the words capital letters.
“I’ve got a ship.”
“A spaceship?”
“Time and Space ship,” he answered. “The TARDIS, which stands for Time and Relative Dimension in Space. She doesn’t look like much, admittedly, but she’s my home away from home.” He watched her, sensing she was bursting to ask more questions. “You could come with me,” he said quickly, determined to ask her before he changed his mind about the wisdom of it. Even with Romana’s orders fresh in his mind, he still wanted to invite Martha along for her own sake, not because she was potentially very important to Earth and Gallifrey.
“I can’t,” she said instantly, but he could hear the regret in her voice. “I’ve got my finals in a few months time, and my family - “ She paused, looking irresolute for a moment. “My family need me,” she finished.
“I could help you with the Time Sensitivity,” he said.
Martha’s gaze sharpened. “You can stop me seeing those things?” she asked hopefully.
He shook his head, regretful in his turn. “No, I’m afraid not. You being a Time Sensitive is as much a part of who you are as your hair, eye or skin colour - you’ve inherited it as you’ve inherited those other things.”
“How?” she asked, her expression more tense and unhappy now.
“You’re almost a qualified doctor, and you don’t know how heredity works?” he teased, trying to lighten her mood.
She glared at him and he winced inwardly at the anger in her expression, realising his joke had been ill-timed. “It’s okay for you, Mr Time Lord; it’s normal for you. But you said yourself that it’s not normal for humans.” She got up from the sofa and moved to the window, her arms wrapped around herself and her shoulders hunched. “If you had any idea how devastatingly painful it is to see people die twice over, you would not sit there and make jokes at my expense.”
He got up quickly, hearing how hurt she was, and moved to stand behind her. “I’m sorry, Martha. It was thoughtless of me to tease you.” He tentatively put a hand on her shoulder and was relieved when she didn’t shrug him off.
“You said, earlier, that you were thinking of giving up your medical training. Do you really want to do that? I may be an alien, but I know that medical training for humans is a fairly lengthy process, requiring lots of hard work. Do you really want to give up now, and waste all your time and hard work? Surely it would be better to have a way of coping with the Time flashes?”
She turned towards him, her dark eyes bright with tears, and he had a sudden sense that she’d been struggling to cope for a long time.
“Let me help, please.”
”Can I think about it?” she asked, her voice wavering slightly.
“Of course,” he answered. He opened his arms to her and she stepped close enough for him to hug her. “It’s going to be okay.” He spoke softly, and began rubbing her back soothingly.
After a minute he felt her body shaking and knew she was crying, and he continued to murmur wordless comfort to her.
“Better?” he asked, once her sobs had subsided.
“Yes, thank you.” She straightened up and pulled a tissue from her pocket to blow her nose. “I’m sorry, I don’t normally go around blubbing on strangers.”
He brushed her hair off her forehead with a gentle touch. “I bet you don’t cry very often at all, do you?” he asked perceptively.
She shook her head and they moved back over to sit on the sofa again. “No. I’m the strong one of the family.” She pulled a face. “I’m the one who’s usually stuck in the middle of family arguments, trying to make peace between them.”
”Do you have a big family?” the Doctor asked.
“Mum, dad, Tish and Leo. Tish is a year older than me, Leo a couple of years younger. My parents split up twelve months ago when Dad went off with a younger woman.”
He winced. “It sounds complicated,” he observed. “And I bet you don’t get much time for yourself, or even much time off from the family dramas.”
“Not really,” she agreed, looking glum.
“You realise that if you come with me, we could be gone for weeks or even months, and I could bring you back just a few hours or days after we left? Even if you don’t want to come travelling with me, at least consider a trip away as a thank you from me for saving my life - and during that time I’ll teach you the basics on how to cope with the Time flashes.”
“I’ll think about it.”
He nodded; he could see she was tempted, but he sensed that if he pushed her too hard, she’d get stubborn and dig her heels in, and he didn’t want her to do that.
“Why don’t I meet you on Friday?” he suggested. “We could either have lunch, or I could meet you for a coffee after you finish work, and you can give me your answer then.”
Her expression brightened. “I finish at one on Friday.”
“Then I’ll buy you a late lunch, and you can give me your decision. Shall we meet at the Starbucks where we had tea and cake today? You know, they're mere decades away from intergalactic dominance?”
Martha gave him a startled look, and he grinned to show her that he was joking. She nodded. “At 1.15pm.”
The Doctor smiled happily. “I look forward to it. I’ll leave you to your studies, now.”
She got up to see him out and surprised him by giving him a quick hug before he left.
Two days later
After leaving Martha the Doctor had made his way back to his TARDIS and made the short ‘hop’ forward to Friday lunchtime in order to meet up with her again. He realised he wasn’t just looking forward to seeing Martha again, but also to showing her the TARDIS: he was sure she’d find it wondrous, and he found he wanted to provoke her wonder.
He left the ship near Martha’s flat, then walked back to Starbucks, smiling in anticipation; it really had been too long since he’d had a travelling companion, and although he’d initially doubted the wisdom of Romana’s suggestion that he find the person they’d seen in the Matrix, he now realised that he wanted Martha’s company on his travels. Her potential role in the future of Gallifrey and the Earth mattered less to him, at the moment, than showing her the marvels of Time and Space travel, and helping her to cope with the Time flashes that were making her life so miserable.
As he turned the corner into the street where he was meeting Martha, he pulled his fobwatch from his waistcoat pocket to check the time, and when he looked up again, he saw her already waiting outside Starbucks. He smiled in pleasure and lengthened his stride, then he caught sight of the anxiety in her expression, and felt his own smile fade.
”Hello Martha. What’s wrong?”
“Hello.” She gave him a half-smile that lacked humour or warmth. “I had a premonition earlier.”
“About one of your patients?” he asked immediately.
“No.”
He tilted his head, giving her a thoughtful look. “About me?”
“About us,” she answered.
He gave her a startled look, wondering what she could have seen to make her so anxious, then took her arm and led her into the coffee shop, guiding her into a seat. “What did you see?” he asked quietly.
“Mannequins - you know, the plastic dummies they put in shop windows to display clothes - attacking people. They were animated somehow, smashing their way through the windows and - and - shooting people.”
“Blast!” exclaimed the Doctor. “That sounds suspiciously like the Autons.” He scowled. “Which means there’s a Nestene Consciousness somewhere.”
He looked at Martha's worried and uncomprehending expression. "Can you wait a little longer to eat? I really need to get back to the TARDIS to runs some scans of the area."
She nodded, her dark eyes wide with emotion. "I had a quick bite before I left the hospital, just in case this was something serious."
He gave her a warm smile. "That's what I like about doctors: you're so practical."
Martha ducked her head a little, but he could see she was pleased by his compliment. "Where is your ship?"
"I left her near your flat," he answered, getting to his feet. "Shall we?"
She nodded, getting up also, then followed him out into the street, and they hurried towards Martha's flat.
"Doesn't it bother you that people give you funny looks when they see your clothes?" she asked after a few minutes of walking.
"They do?" he asked, glancing at her before looking around at their fellow pedestrians. He smiled at her. "I hadn't really noticed."
She gave him a disbelieving look and his smile widened. "Martha, Martha, Martha, my clothes rarely fit the period of history in which I find myself. But then again, given that I frequently look out of place as a humanoid, I don't tend to worry about it."
Martha shook her head, but he could see a smile lurking and he chuckled, then led her down a small side road off the street where she lived, and hurried towards the TARDIS.
"This is your ship?" she asked, staring as he strode up to a tall blue Police Call Box and unlocked the door.
"Yes," the Doctor answered simply, holding the door open and beckoning for her to enter.
She approached warily. "That's never big enough for two of us," she pointed out, stopping just short of entering the ship.
"You'd be surprised," he answered. He took her hand in his, squeezing her fingers in a reassuring manner, then led her over the threshold.
"Oh!" Martha's gasp of surprise and awe, and the look of wonder shining in her eyes when she saw the interior of the TARDIS made the Doctor smile in pleasure and satisfaction.
"Welcome to the TARDIS," he said, turning to close the outer door behind her, then crossing towards a hexagonal console off to one side.
"Don't you have a crew?" she asked, looking around and obviously noticing the lack of other people. "In Star Trek they have dozens of people on the bridge alone."
"There's just me at the moment," he answered sadly, trying not to think of Charley.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry," she said with quick and ready sympathy.
"You didn't," he assured her, his hands busy with the myriad buttons, levers and switches in front of him. He glanced up from his task and smiled at her. "It was a reasonable question, and usually I have one or more travelling companions, good friends whom I've met here or there during my journeys. But since my last companion left, I've been on my own."
"Is that the friend you were going to give Wells' book to?" Martha asked curiously.
The Doctor nodded, then uttered a satisfied cry. "Aha!" He flicked a switch, then looked upwards, and saw from the corner of his eye that she had followed suit to see a three dimensional map of London projected onto the ceiling. There were thousands of blue-green lights on the map, but there was also an orange-red blob near the river.
"What's that?" Martha asked, pointing up at it.
"That's a Nestene Consciousness," he answered, moving around the console and flicking some switches until the bird's eye point of view zoomed closer in a slightly dizzying manner.
She frowned. "What's a Nestene Consciousness? How's it related to those other things you mentioned - Autons, wasn't it?"
He grinned at her, pleased by her questions. "Autons are animated plastic objects," he explained. "Usually they're shop dummies armed with an energy weapon. A Nestene Consciousness is what animates an Auton - they can change the molecular structure of any plastic object, energising it and turning it into quasi-organic material that can function like flesh and blood."
He glanced upwards again at the map, which had became a more highly detailed close-up of the area where the orange-red blob was positioned.
"It looks as if the Nestene is somewhere in the vicinity of the Houses of Parliament," he said as he stared upwards. "There must be something near there which it plans to use to focus its control signal, which will allow it to activate every Auton in London, and beyond."
"The London Eye," Martha said abruptly. He looked down at her, one eyebrow raised in enquiry. "It's a giant Ferris Wheel, and it's on the South Bank of the Thames, opposite the Houses of Parliament. It's a hugely popular tourist attraction."
"Ah, then it's likely that the Nestene Consciousness is intending to use that as its focus for the control signal."
As they both looked back up at the map, the orange-red blob seemed to flare in intensity, becoming brighter and stronger.
"That doesn't look good," Martha observed in a worried tone.
"It's not," the Doctor answered, his voice full of anxiety as he turned his attention back to the hexagonal console. "Hold on to something."
She grabbed one of the support struts surrounding the console, swaying slightly as the TARDIS dematerialised and shifted through Space, but not Time, to rematerialise not far from the London Eye.
"I'm going to talk to the Nestene, try to persuade it to leave Earth alone, but in case I can't, I need a weapon," he told her, heading towards an archway at the back of the room.
"A gun?" Martha asked doubtfully.
"No, a gun won't help. I need some anti-plastic. I've got some in my lab - I'll be back in a few minutes."
When the Doctor returned he found her by the bookshelves that ran along the far wall of the main room. He walked towards her, smiling at the sight of her with her nose buried in a textbook on Xenobiology.
"Ready?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder to gain her attention.
"Ready," she agreed, shelving the book with a slightly regretful expression.
"You can come back and read it afterwards," he promised.
She nodded, then followed him across the room to the doors. The Doctor gave her a confident smile, then stepped outside, Martha close on his heels.
"Where are we?" she asked, looking around in an attempt to get her bearings.
"Just off Westminster Bridge," he answered. "Wordsworth's favourite spot, although I'm not sure he'd be so fond of it now as he was back then."
She gave him a bewildered look, and he grinned at her. "We need to find the Nestene."
"So what are we doing standing and chatting here then?" she asked pointedly.
His grin widened. "A good question," he answered. "Come on."
He darted away towards the Ferris Wheel, and Martha hurried after him. Suddenly the Eye above them lit up with a blinding blue light, and they heard screams and cries of terror from the passengers inside the capsules overhead. Martha skidded to a halt and peered up at the towering structure.
"I've got to go and help them," she told the Doctor urgently.
He turned and hurried back to her side, catching hold of her shoulders. "Be careful," he said earnestly.
"Of course," she said quickly, then gave him a startled look when he quickly kissed her forehead before hurrying away.
He tried not to think too much about the fact Martha was becoming important to him - he knew he shouldn't get too attached to her since she still hadn't agreed to travel with him, but this incarnation, apparently, was even more inclined to become close to humans than any of his previous selves.
He sighed, then made a conscious decision not to think about Martha until he had finished dealing with the Nestene Consciousness - it wouldn't do for him to be distracted at a vital moment.
He traced the source of the signal that was being broadcast by the Nestene Consciousness to an outbuilding near the giant Ferris wheel, and the sonic screwdriver made short work of the locked door that stood in his way. He hurried inside, following the alien gurglings and roars of the creature that was probably already controlling the hundreds of shop display mannequins that were scattered throughout the city.
The Doctor found himself on a walkway that overlooked a vast vat filled with a shapeless orange-yellow mass that seethed and writhed as it pulsed with power. As he moved into view the creature's roars increased in volume and the Time Lord found himself automatically damping down his sense of hearing to avoid being deafened.
"I am the Doctor," he called loudly, his hands folded behind his back as he looked down on it. The volume of noise rose still further and he winced slightly, then it subsided to a more bearable level. "I know that name is not unknown to you. This is the third time you've tried to invade this planet, and on both the previous occasions I defeated you. Do you really believe that I won't stop you again?"
The Nestene Consciousness 'spoke' to him, defying him while also trying to justify its behaviour.
"Not good enough!" shouted the Doctor angrily. "You have two choices: leave peacefully now, or I will destroy you." He pulled his hands from behind his back, brandishing a long, stoppered tube full of a thick blue liquid. "This is anti-plastic, and I'm quite sure you're fully aware of the damage even a small amount would do to you."
The creature began to screech with alarm and fear, and at the same moment the Doctor belatedly became aware that he was no longer alone on the walkway: two Autons were moving towards him from either side, and his retreat was cut off.
* * * * * *
Martha ran towards the building nearest the London Eye, which she knew housed the ticket office and boarding station. Just as she arrived there was another surge of blue light from the wheel above her, and she found herself mentally urging the Doctor to hurry up and do whatever it was he planned to do to sort out the Nestene Consciousness.
Racing into the building she found the staff milling around in a state of near panic, a hubbub of noise filling the air.
"Quiet!" she yelled as loudly as she could.
Startled, everyone fell silent, turning to her in surprise.
"I'm a doctor," she said clearly into the ringing silence. "The most important thing for us to is to stay calm and get everyone off the wheel."
"But what's going on?" demanded one of the members of staff, an officious-looking young man whom Martha immediately decided was likely to be more trouble than he was worth.
"I don't know," she answered, not wanting to admit that it was aliens. "But what's happening is less important than the safety of your passengers. We must get everyone out of the capsules as quickly as we can without causing a panic." She glanced around. "You need to get out your First Aid supplies and ring for an ambulance. Anyone who knows First Aid should join me; the rest of you should concentrate on helping the passengers who are neither injured nor shocked to somewhere that they can sit down and catch their breath before they go home."
To Martha's relief people began to move about in a more organised manner, and four of the staff joined her as she moved across to the spot where the passengers boarded the capsules; one, she noticed, was the young man who'd spoken earlier, and she hoped he'd prove capable of prioritising what needed to be done.
They got the doors of the first capsule open after a brief struggle, and Martha immediately stepped inside and spoke in a calm manner, noticing that some people looked panicky.
"My name is Martha Jones and I'm a doctor," she told them, deciding to claim the title she'd nearly earned. "If anyone is hurt or feeling unwell, please let me know." At least they're all conscious, she thought as she moved towards an elderly couple as the man beckoned her over with an urgent gesture. No one else was indicating they needed medical attention, so Martha encouraged them to leave the capsule as she went to assess the old man.
"It's my wife," he said. "She was thrown from the seat when the Eye jerked to a stop. I think her left arm is broken."
Martha spoke softly to the woman. "Hello, love. I'm just going to check your arm, and then we'll see about fixing it up for you."
The woman gave her a bleary look and Martha frowned in concern. "Did you bang your head as well?" she asked.
"She did hit her head, I think," the man said, his voice full of fearful anxiety.
"She looks as if she may be concussed," Martha said as she carefully checked the woman's pupils. "What's her name?"
"Alice, and I'm Ted."
"And are you okay, Ted?" Martha asked as she began to gently feel her way along Alice's arm.
"Bit shook up," he answered. "Could do with a cup of tea."
She gave him a warm smile, then pulled a sling from the First Aid kit she'd been given. "All right, Alice, I'm just going to put your arm in this sling to rest it, and then we'll see about getting the bone set and a cast put on." She finished pinning the sling in place, and then she and Ted walked Alice over to the door and helped her out of the capsule.
To Martha's relief the paramedics had arrived and one, she quickly discovered, was the same red-haired man she'd met two days ago when she'd saved the Doctor from the car. The man's eyes widened in surprise when he recognised Martha, but he didn't waste time on asking her why she was present, thereby gaining her respect. He and his colleague listened intently as Martha briefly explained about Alice's broken arm and probable concussion, and then his colleague helped Ted to guide Alice across the booking hall to a seat.
"I'm David McDonald," the paramedic said. "And I'm glad to see you here Martha. A calm and capable person is exactly what we need."
She blushed, but shook his hand, then waited beside him as the wheel of the Eye moved around to allow them to enter the next capsule.
By the time the third capsule's passengers had disembarked Martha and the two paramedics had been joined by four more as another two ambulances had arrived, and she was beginning to think she could legitimately go in search of the Doctor. She was about to tell David so when she heard a voice raised in anger and turning, she saw that the officious young man, Browning, was confronting a man and his young daughter. She'd found the little girl almost paralysed with fright by the events of the afternoon and her father had been in a bit of a panic too at the thought of what his ex-wife would say when she found out what had happened.
It had taken Martha a good ten minutes of quiet, patient coaxing to get the little girl, Sammy, to relax sufficiently so that she and her father could be helped from the capsule, and now that idiot boy was shouting at her.
Martha stormed across the booking hall and grabbed him forcefully by the shoulder, hauling him around to speak in a fierce undertone in his ear.
"If you don't shut up, so help me, I'm going to smack you from here to next Wednesday."
Browning had been startled into silence when she grabbed him, and he was now staring at her with a mixture of fear and anger battling for dominance in his expression.
"Why are you shouting at a frightened child?" she demanded.
"She's just peed on a seat," Browning answered angrily.
"She's five years old and just been frightened half to death, you idiot!" Martha said furiously. "Children don't have the same control as adults in a situation like this, not that you're a model of self-control either." Her tone was contemptuous.
Browning opened his mouth to retort, but she cut him off. "Just shut up! And stop making a fuss about something so trivial and unimportant when there are people's lives at stake."
He stumbled backwards when she let go of his shoulder, looking as if he'd been scalded, but Martha heard him muttering angrily under his breath as he moved away. She dismissed him from her mind and crouched down in front of the little girl.
"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Sammy gave an uncertain nod and Martha fished in the pocket of her jacket. "I want you to do something for me, if you can. This is Zhi and she's a Serbian white tiger cub. She needs someone to look after her. Do you think you could do that for me?"
Sammy pulled her finger from her mouth to utter a quiet agreement, her other hand reaching out to stroke the head of the soft toy that Martha held.
The young woman looked up at Sammy's dad who was looking grateful, then gave the tiger cub to the little girl. Sammy immediately began a whispered conversation with the toy animal, stroking its head and back.
"Thank you, for everything," Mr Taylor said in a heartfelt tone.
"You're welcome," Martha said sincerely.
"What do I owe you for the toy?" he asked, sounding hesitant.
"Nothing," she answered. "Unless you want to make a small donation to a tiger charity."
"I will," he assured her quickly. He looked down at Sammy. "Why Zhi?" he asked.
Martha smiled. "It's Chinese, and it means both 'wisdom' and 'healer'," she answered.
He held out his hand and she shook it. "It seems very apt for such a wise doctor," he told her.
Martha felt her face heating up and was glad to be spared the necessity of finding an answer by Sammy tugging at her dad's hand and asking to go home.
As they made their way across the booking hall, Martha had a sudden vision of the Doctor struggling against two figures, and she knew she had to go and find him. She hurried back to where she'd left her shoulder bag, then slipped through the crowd of passengers and out into the street.
Looking around, she spotted an outbuilding, the one she vaguely recalled the Doctor running towards when they'd arrived. She hurried over and opened the door, then stepped carefully inside. She could hear a voice shouting, and an unearthly shrieking, growling noise. She moved forward slowly and carefully, and was relieved when she spotted the Doctor ahead of her on a walkway that overlooked the lower floor of the building. Her relief was short-lived, however, when she realised that he had been chained to the wall, and she hurried towards him. He saw her approaching and his eyes widened with surprise before he gave her a relieved smile.
"Hello. I'm very glad to see you. This being tied up lark gets a bit dull after a while." He sounded quite cheerful, she noted, but she could also sense considerable tension in him.
"If you look in the left inside pocket of my jacket, you'll find my sonic screwdriver," he told her.
"Where are the two men who chained you up?" she asked, sliding her hand inside his jacket - a manoeuvre made awkward by the fact that his arms had been folded across his chest before being chained.
"Those were Autons, not men," the Doctor answered.
"And the thing in the vat, that's trying to deafen us? I presume that's the Nestene Consciousness?"
"Got it one, Martha!" he exclaimed excitedly.
"It was elementary, my dear Doctor," she retorted, grinning.
"Ooh that Sherlock Holmes fellow is a smart one. I - mmph, mmph, mmph." He found the rest of his excited remarks cut off by Martha placing her hand over his mouth as she waggled the sonic in front of his face.
"What do I do with this?" she asked, then removed her hand.
He grinned at her, his eyes bright with amusement, but to her relief he didn't start babbling again; instead he told her how to use the sonic to undo the large padlock that was fastened to the chains that bound him, and it was the work of a few moments to release him.
"Now what?" she asked.
"Now we deal with those two," he answered, nodding over her shoulder.
Martha span around and saw two Autons approaching them. "Uh oh."
There was a buzzing noise behind her and she glanced back to see the Doctor waving his sonic screwdriver at the two plastic dummies.
"Um, Doctor," she said worriedly, as the Autons raised their right arms and pointed them straight at her and the Time Lord.
"Damn!" muttered the Doctor, sounding cross.
"What's happening?" asked Martha as the Autons' hands slowly dropped downwards from the wrist.
"I can't seem to find the right frequency to interrupt the signal," he answered, twiddling with the controls on the sonic.
"What happened to the anti-plastic?" she asked urgently.
"The Autons took it from me," he said, waving the sonic in the direction of the approaching robots.
"What?" gasped Martha astounded.
"It may be around here somewhere," he told her, his attention still on the device in his hand.
She looked down at walkway, her eyes darting here and there as she looked for a gleam of light on glass in the dimness of the building.
"There!" she said, pointing to a tube full of blue liquid that lay several feet away at the edge of the walkway.
"We're going to have to use it," the Doctor said desperately. "I tried reasoning with the Nestene Consciousness, but it wouldn't listen to reason."
The two Autons fired, at the same moment that Martha dived across the walkway to snatch up the tube.
"Throw it into the vat, Martha!" the Doctor called urgently.
She didn't hesitate to comply, throwing it hard and fast over the railing and straight into the middle of the vat. Then she turned and saw the Doctor wrestling with the Autons for a second time.
"That's enough!" she shouted angrily, snatching up a long metal bar from the ground and charging towards the dummies. She cracked both of them over the back of the head, and they tumbled to the ground as the screeching of the Nestene Consciousness reached an even greater volume.
"Come on," the Doctor said urgently, grabbing her wrist. "We need to get out of here before that thing blows."
She gave him a horrified look, then they sprinted for the door, bursting out into the late afternoon sunlight with a sense of relief.
There was a dull boom behind them, and the Doctor grabbed her, pulling her down to crouch behind a low wall as bits of debris from the building hurtled overhead.
"You okay?" he asked anxiously.
"Fine. What about you, though?"
He gave her a manic grin. "I'm okay," he answered.
They straightened up from behind the wall and saw half the roof of the outbuilding was missing, and there were roof tiles and lumps of concrete scattered about between them and the remains of the building.
"That was a jolly good throw," the Doctor told her admiringly as he offered her his arm and they walked back to the TARDIS together.
"Thanks," she answered, blushing slightly.
"So, Martha, are you coming with me?" he asked as he closed the TARDIS doors behind them.
"Is it always this dangerous?" she asked.
"Not always, no, but I'd be lying if I didn't say it's like this most of the time." He tilted his head to one side, looking at her from under his long lashes. "Go on," he said. "You know you want to really. I can see it in your face."
She laughed softly. "I do," she agreed.
"Excellent!" He ran around the hexagonal console, and a moment later she felt the ship shift again. "We'll go back to your flat to get some clothes and whatever else you might like to bring with you," he told her, "and then I'll take you to Gallifrey, my home planet. There are a couple of people I want you to meet."
He reached across the console, offering a hand, and grinning at her. "Welcome aboard, Miss Jones."
"Thank you, Mr Smith," she answered with a grin of her own as she shook his hand.