Assumed Identities Ch. 3
Title: Assumed Identities Ch. 3/5
Wordcount: 2,431
Rating: PG
Summary:
“Good. Don’t exactly need an audience for this,” the Doctor murmured to River. “Now, where’s your trowel?”
Chapter 3
The street was quiet when they emerged from the building, only this time it appeared that the regular close of the business day had engendered the peace rather than their presence.
“Good. Don’t exactly need an audience for this,” the Doctor murmured to River. “Now, where’s your trowel?”
“My what?” of all the things the Doctor had ever asked her for, a trowel had never come up before.
“Your trowel. Isn’t that what you archaeologists carry? For digging and…things?” He waved his arms in a vague shoveling motion.
River’s eyes twinkled. “Things? Such as…?”
“Well there must be more to it than just digging, River! You can’t expect me to know how you people operate. Fiddling with history and making up stories to suit yourselves - not exactly my style, you know.”
She laughed. “Yes, dear, I have a trowel. It’s back on the TARDIS, though. Are you planning to do some digging, then?” She started walking toward the blue box, trying to remember where she had last seen her toolbox. Had it been in the fourth cupboard in the upper corridor, or under her bed?
He smiled. “Oh yes. Time to find out exactly what’s underneath these bone meadows so we can open negotiations with the man responsible for generating them.”
“Does that mean you know who he is, then?” River turned back to look at him with one eyebrow raised. The Doctor had encountered more than a fair share of people over the years, but to run into one particular individual in a time zone and location he’d never visited before would be an extraordinary coincidence. Also, it would likely devolve into a somewhat sticky situation vis a vis his plan to remain incognito.
The Doctor shook his head. “Not in so many words, no. But I have a very good idea of how we’ll find him once we have what we need.”
“Then I suggest we fetch my trowel. Oh, and Doctor?”
“Yes?”
“I suggest you try to locate one of your own. Excavation generally isn’t a one-woman job.”
***
Hours later and covered in dirt, the Doctor ran his sonic screwdriver for the dozenth time over the mound of earth he and River had just dug from the bone meadow. Or rather, bone former-meadow as it could now properly be called. He had done this fruitlessly every time they had removed more than a few inches of soil from underneath the grass, and the process was beginning to wear on both their nerves. Neither could even say exactly what they were looking for.
“A-ha!” he shouted, jumping up in glee.
“What?” she demanded, hurrying to peer at the sonic’s readings.
“Exactly what I thought I’d find here. It’s a tiny transponder, one too small and too deeply buried to show up when I scanned it earlier.”
Realization dawned over River’s expression, and her grin matched his. “The transponder is for a transmat. And if it’s weak enough for the sonic not to pick up earlier, that means -“
“That means it’s too weak to work if the transmat isn’t actually in orbit around the planet.”
“Or landed on it. Doctor - do you think the Duchess’s ‘trader’ is still here? Cloaked?”
“I’m counting on it.” His grin began to fade as he studied the readings more closely. River had taken out her own handheld scanner and was passing it over the area, looking for anything else they might have missed before.
“Doctor?” she asked, waving to get his attention. “Come look at this.” She had turned her attention to the bones, which, aside from verifying that their DNA signature was at least partly human, they had largely ignored.
“Now that is interesting,” he said, handing her the sonic as he took hold of her scanner to look at the readings more closely. “Did you scan these earlier as well?”
“No, I was letting you do the impressive wand-waving, sweetie,” she said drily. “Let’s see if the sonic agrees…” she trailed off as she scanned the bones again, as carefully as she could. “Hm…yes. There’s definitely a change from earlier.”
“River,” he looked between the two devices, confirming that the data was the same. “I think we may have a small complication on our hands.”
“If by ‘small complication’ you mean that these bones are growing, then yes, Sweetie, I would have to agree with you.” She looked up at him. “Any thoughts?”
“Several. Come along, Doctor Song, we need to have a conversation with Macris and Delvaria. One without the Duchess present.” He took hold of her hand, and they marched swiftly back toward the government center. There wasn’t much time to lose.
***
By sheer chance, Macris was exiting the building just as they approached. Clearly startled by their appearance, he still managed to greet them with a remarkable amount of aplomb. A consummate politician, the Doctor observed, unsurprised but slightly grateful at this small bit of confirmation that his theory about exactly what was going on here was correct.
“Caretaker! Doctor Strangelove! Forgive me - the Duchess has gone back to her residence for the evening. We didn’t anticipate hearing from you again until morning.” He gestured toward the door. “Have you found anything yet? I can call her back at a moment’s notice.” He reached for his pocket as if to take hold of a communication device. The Doctor reached out and stayed his hand before he could retrieve it.
“That won’t be necessary,” he said in a carefully controlled voice.
Macris, thought River, should be careful of that voice.
“Is Delvaria still inside? We have some questions for you both.” River said instead, doing her best to sound innocuous. It didn’t come easily.
“I believe she’s just finishing some paperwork. Would you like to come in?”
“We would.” The Doctor’s tone had grown firmer, and River squeezed his hand in warning. It wouldn’t do to tip Macris off that they suspected anything just yet. He squeezed back, and said slightly more lightly, “If it’s convenient.”
“Of course, of course. You understand we are at your complete disposal.” Macris turned and unlocked the door as he spoke.
They followed Macris down a quiet corridor past darkened meeting rooms and what appeared to be a formal audience chamber before coming to the only lighted room in the building. Delvaria’s office was far smaller and less forbidding than River would have expected, given the woman’s position and earlier demeanor. The walls were hung with bright paintings, and a simple desk with a rudimentary data terminal was the only piece of furniture in the room save for two scuffed chairs.
“Delvaria?” Macris said softly, clearly not wanting to startle his colleague as she worked. “The Caretaker and Doctor Strangelove have something they would like to discuss with us.”
She looked up and frowned. “The Duchess requested that she be present when they returned. Have you called her back?”
“Actually,” the Doctor interjected, “we need to speak with you and Macris privately, if you please.”
Delvaria’s scowl turned quizzical, but she did not attempt to call the Duchess. “Won’t you sit down, Caretaker?” she gestured toward the chairs.
“Thank you,” he said, collapsing into the nearest one. “It’s been a bit of a job sorting through the meadow, as you can probably tell.” He brushed a bit of dirt off his jacket sleeve, pointedly ignoring Delvaria’s sneer as her carpet was soiled.
“You…’sorted through’ it?” Macris tried to sound less upset than he clearly was.
“By which he means dug up, yes,” River confirmed. “It was the only way to break through the dampening effect of the grass and dirt. Really, excellent job with those, by the by. Ingenious, really.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow your meaning,” Delvaria said cautiously, leaning back in her own chair.
“Oh, sorry, did we forget to mention that we know you two are behind at least part of the bone meadow shenanigans? Not sure that’s the correct word, ‘shenanigans’ - I expect it depends largely on whether or not those people who disappeared are actually dead, or if they’re simply being held captive somewhere.” The Doctor grinned, all traces of exhaustion wiped from his expression.
“We - how dare you!” Delvaria shouted, leaping up from her seat.
“We had nothing to do with -“ Macris cried simultaneously, thrusting one hand over his heart as if he had just received a grievous shock. “The Duchess will not stand for these kinds of accusations!”
“No, I don’t imagine she would,” River observed calmly. “Seeing as how the two of you have turned her into the perfect little puppet. I’d just like to know whether her father’s death was just a conveniently-timed accident, or if the two of you didn’t have some hand in it.”
Macris was turning purple and Delvaria was sputtering at River’s accusation when the Doctor cut in. “Time enough for that later. Right now what we’d really like to discuss is your involvement with the bone meadows. We found the transponder, and we know the ship can’t be far. If you’d be so kind as to tell us where it’s located we’ll just be on our way.” He paused, the smile fading from his expression as he allowed the words to sink in. This was the part where he always hoped the people involved would make the right decision - to give in to the inevitable and do as he requested. He really hated the next bit if they didn’t.
Both appeared inarticulate with rage, but after a moment Macris appeared to gain at least some measure of control over himself. “We need to discuss this. Delvaria, a moment?”
She shook her head at him in disbelief. “Macris! You can’t possibly be considering-“
“They know, Delvaria. Caretaker, if we could have some privacy?”
“Of course,” he agreed, rising to his feet and walking toward the door. “We’ll just wait out here.”
River followed him, feeling a bit dejected at the possibility that the two conspirators were just going to follow instructions and give them the information they had requested. She hated it when that happened.
“That went well,” the Doctor said softly, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.
“You mean that went about as dully as possible.” She pouted, leaning against the wall. “What kind of conspirators just give up like that?”
He considered her for a moment and opened his mouth to reply just as the sound of an alarm began to ring throughout the building.
“Apparently, my dear, conspirators who aren’t planning to give up. Come on!” he seized her hand and began to run.
They had only made it a few yards before they heard Delvaria’s voice ring out loudly above the alarm klaxon. “They went that way! Follow them!” Booted footsteps - quite a few by the sound of things, began to pound behind them.
“Still think this is dull?” he yelled back at River.
“Not on your life!” she shouted back, grinning at him.
They ran for another ten yards, the sound of soldiers closing in behind them growing louder all the while. “We’re not going to outrun them, Sweetie!” she said.
“No, I don’t imagine that we will! Any ideas?” He turned his head briefly to look at her before redirecting his attention back toward the corridor ahead. The last thing they needed was for him to trip because he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going.
“Several. Most of them involve shooting as many of them as I can before I run out of ammunition.”
“Let’s try to avoid that unless absolutely necessary.”
“All right then, follow me,” and with that she abruptly cut in front of him, dashing into what appeared to be a darkened conference room. The Doctor, stumbling slightly, hooked a hand around the doorjamb and swung himself inside just before his feet threatened to shoot out from underneath him. Slamming the door behind him and locking it with the sonic, he turned breathlessly toward her. “So what’s the plan?”
“I’m thinking!” she said irritably, running her hands over the windowpane. “Well, the good news is that we’re still on the first floor, so jumping out the window won’t result in serious injury.”
“What’s the bad news?” he asked as the soldiers who had been following them began to pound on the door.
“There are more troops headed our way out there.” She pointed out the window, and with a scowl the Doctor realized that she was correct. At least fifty soldiers were jogging down the otherwise deserted street. Clearly, Macris or Delvaria had summoned them somehow long before the Doctor and River had tipped their hands. There was no way they could climb out the window without attracting their notice, and no crowd of civilians milling about for them to lose themselves in.
“Then I guess we won’t be heading outside.” He glanced back at the rattling door. “Any other suggestions? I do believe we’re about to have company.”
She grinned, exhilarated by the chase. He was momentarily stunned by how brilliant she looked - this was the part she thrived on, and truth be told, as much as he preferred peaceful solutions, he didn’t exactly dislike it either. “Always, sweetie. Here, give me a leg up.” She held up her foot, and he cupped it in his hands, lifting her toward the (thankfully low) ceiling. Without hesitating, she pushed aside a ceiling tile and pulled herself up.
“It’s not terribly study, but it should hold our weight for a few minutes,” she called down, reaching a hand toward him. Gripping it tightly, the Doctor pulled himself up, feeling grateful that he wasn’t in one of his stockier regenerations. Say what they would about this body, boniness had its advantages.
Hurrying to beat both the guards and physics, the pair crawled across the vast expanse of ventilation ducts and sub-ceiling toward the other side of the building. Neither needed to say that with any luck there wouldn’t be any (or at least as many) soldiers to impede their exit over there.
And, if there were, at least River still had all her ammunition and very good aim.
***
To Be Continued... (tomorrow)
Wordcount: 2,431
Rating: PG
Summary:
“Good. Don’t exactly need an audience for this,” the Doctor murmured to River. “Now, where’s your trowel?”
Chapter 3
The street was quiet when they emerged from the building, only this time it appeared that the regular close of the business day had engendered the peace rather than their presence.
“Good. Don’t exactly need an audience for this,” the Doctor murmured to River. “Now, where’s your trowel?”
“My what?” of all the things the Doctor had ever asked her for, a trowel had never come up before.
“Your trowel. Isn’t that what you archaeologists carry? For digging and…things?” He waved his arms in a vague shoveling motion.
River’s eyes twinkled. “Things? Such as…?”
“Well there must be more to it than just digging, River! You can’t expect me to know how you people operate. Fiddling with history and making up stories to suit yourselves - not exactly my style, you know.”
She laughed. “Yes, dear, I have a trowel. It’s back on the TARDIS, though. Are you planning to do some digging, then?” She started walking toward the blue box, trying to remember where she had last seen her toolbox. Had it been in the fourth cupboard in the upper corridor, or under her bed?
He smiled. “Oh yes. Time to find out exactly what’s underneath these bone meadows so we can open negotiations with the man responsible for generating them.”
“Does that mean you know who he is, then?” River turned back to look at him with one eyebrow raised. The Doctor had encountered more than a fair share of people over the years, but to run into one particular individual in a time zone and location he’d never visited before would be an extraordinary coincidence. Also, it would likely devolve into a somewhat sticky situation vis a vis his plan to remain incognito.
The Doctor shook his head. “Not in so many words, no. But I have a very good idea of how we’ll find him once we have what we need.”
“Then I suggest we fetch my trowel. Oh, and Doctor?”
“Yes?”
“I suggest you try to locate one of your own. Excavation generally isn’t a one-woman job.”
***
Hours later and covered in dirt, the Doctor ran his sonic screwdriver for the dozenth time over the mound of earth he and River had just dug from the bone meadow. Or rather, bone former-meadow as it could now properly be called. He had done this fruitlessly every time they had removed more than a few inches of soil from underneath the grass, and the process was beginning to wear on both their nerves. Neither could even say exactly what they were looking for.
“A-ha!” he shouted, jumping up in glee.
“What?” she demanded, hurrying to peer at the sonic’s readings.
“Exactly what I thought I’d find here. It’s a tiny transponder, one too small and too deeply buried to show up when I scanned it earlier.”
Realization dawned over River’s expression, and her grin matched his. “The transponder is for a transmat. And if it’s weak enough for the sonic not to pick up earlier, that means -“
“That means it’s too weak to work if the transmat isn’t actually in orbit around the planet.”
“Or landed on it. Doctor - do you think the Duchess’s ‘trader’ is still here? Cloaked?”
“I’m counting on it.” His grin began to fade as he studied the readings more closely. River had taken out her own handheld scanner and was passing it over the area, looking for anything else they might have missed before.
“Doctor?” she asked, waving to get his attention. “Come look at this.” She had turned her attention to the bones, which, aside from verifying that their DNA signature was at least partly human, they had largely ignored.
“Now that is interesting,” he said, handing her the sonic as he took hold of her scanner to look at the readings more closely. “Did you scan these earlier as well?”
“No, I was letting you do the impressive wand-waving, sweetie,” she said drily. “Let’s see if the sonic agrees…” she trailed off as she scanned the bones again, as carefully as she could. “Hm…yes. There’s definitely a change from earlier.”
“River,” he looked between the two devices, confirming that the data was the same. “I think we may have a small complication on our hands.”
“If by ‘small complication’ you mean that these bones are growing, then yes, Sweetie, I would have to agree with you.” She looked up at him. “Any thoughts?”
“Several. Come along, Doctor Song, we need to have a conversation with Macris and Delvaria. One without the Duchess present.” He took hold of her hand, and they marched swiftly back toward the government center. There wasn’t much time to lose.
***
By sheer chance, Macris was exiting the building just as they approached. Clearly startled by their appearance, he still managed to greet them with a remarkable amount of aplomb. A consummate politician, the Doctor observed, unsurprised but slightly grateful at this small bit of confirmation that his theory about exactly what was going on here was correct.
“Caretaker! Doctor Strangelove! Forgive me - the Duchess has gone back to her residence for the evening. We didn’t anticipate hearing from you again until morning.” He gestured toward the door. “Have you found anything yet? I can call her back at a moment’s notice.” He reached for his pocket as if to take hold of a communication device. The Doctor reached out and stayed his hand before he could retrieve it.
“That won’t be necessary,” he said in a carefully controlled voice.
Macris, thought River, should be careful of that voice.
“Is Delvaria still inside? We have some questions for you both.” River said instead, doing her best to sound innocuous. It didn’t come easily.
“I believe she’s just finishing some paperwork. Would you like to come in?”
“We would.” The Doctor’s tone had grown firmer, and River squeezed his hand in warning. It wouldn’t do to tip Macris off that they suspected anything just yet. He squeezed back, and said slightly more lightly, “If it’s convenient.”
“Of course, of course. You understand we are at your complete disposal.” Macris turned and unlocked the door as he spoke.
They followed Macris down a quiet corridor past darkened meeting rooms and what appeared to be a formal audience chamber before coming to the only lighted room in the building. Delvaria’s office was far smaller and less forbidding than River would have expected, given the woman’s position and earlier demeanor. The walls were hung with bright paintings, and a simple desk with a rudimentary data terminal was the only piece of furniture in the room save for two scuffed chairs.
“Delvaria?” Macris said softly, clearly not wanting to startle his colleague as she worked. “The Caretaker and Doctor Strangelove have something they would like to discuss with us.”
She looked up and frowned. “The Duchess requested that she be present when they returned. Have you called her back?”
“Actually,” the Doctor interjected, “we need to speak with you and Macris privately, if you please.”
Delvaria’s scowl turned quizzical, but she did not attempt to call the Duchess. “Won’t you sit down, Caretaker?” she gestured toward the chairs.
“Thank you,” he said, collapsing into the nearest one. “It’s been a bit of a job sorting through the meadow, as you can probably tell.” He brushed a bit of dirt off his jacket sleeve, pointedly ignoring Delvaria’s sneer as her carpet was soiled.
“You…’sorted through’ it?” Macris tried to sound less upset than he clearly was.
“By which he means dug up, yes,” River confirmed. “It was the only way to break through the dampening effect of the grass and dirt. Really, excellent job with those, by the by. Ingenious, really.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow your meaning,” Delvaria said cautiously, leaning back in her own chair.
“Oh, sorry, did we forget to mention that we know you two are behind at least part of the bone meadow shenanigans? Not sure that’s the correct word, ‘shenanigans’ - I expect it depends largely on whether or not those people who disappeared are actually dead, or if they’re simply being held captive somewhere.” The Doctor grinned, all traces of exhaustion wiped from his expression.
“We - how dare you!” Delvaria shouted, leaping up from her seat.
“We had nothing to do with -“ Macris cried simultaneously, thrusting one hand over his heart as if he had just received a grievous shock. “The Duchess will not stand for these kinds of accusations!”
“No, I don’t imagine she would,” River observed calmly. “Seeing as how the two of you have turned her into the perfect little puppet. I’d just like to know whether her father’s death was just a conveniently-timed accident, or if the two of you didn’t have some hand in it.”
Macris was turning purple and Delvaria was sputtering at River’s accusation when the Doctor cut in. “Time enough for that later. Right now what we’d really like to discuss is your involvement with the bone meadows. We found the transponder, and we know the ship can’t be far. If you’d be so kind as to tell us where it’s located we’ll just be on our way.” He paused, the smile fading from his expression as he allowed the words to sink in. This was the part where he always hoped the people involved would make the right decision - to give in to the inevitable and do as he requested. He really hated the next bit if they didn’t.
Both appeared inarticulate with rage, but after a moment Macris appeared to gain at least some measure of control over himself. “We need to discuss this. Delvaria, a moment?”
She shook her head at him in disbelief. “Macris! You can’t possibly be considering-“
“They know, Delvaria. Caretaker, if we could have some privacy?”
“Of course,” he agreed, rising to his feet and walking toward the door. “We’ll just wait out here.”
River followed him, feeling a bit dejected at the possibility that the two conspirators were just going to follow instructions and give them the information they had requested. She hated it when that happened.
“That went well,” the Doctor said softly, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.
“You mean that went about as dully as possible.” She pouted, leaning against the wall. “What kind of conspirators just give up like that?”
He considered her for a moment and opened his mouth to reply just as the sound of an alarm began to ring throughout the building.
“Apparently, my dear, conspirators who aren’t planning to give up. Come on!” he seized her hand and began to run.
They had only made it a few yards before they heard Delvaria’s voice ring out loudly above the alarm klaxon. “They went that way! Follow them!” Booted footsteps - quite a few by the sound of things, began to pound behind them.
“Still think this is dull?” he yelled back at River.
“Not on your life!” she shouted back, grinning at him.
They ran for another ten yards, the sound of soldiers closing in behind them growing louder all the while. “We’re not going to outrun them, Sweetie!” she said.
“No, I don’t imagine that we will! Any ideas?” He turned his head briefly to look at her before redirecting his attention back toward the corridor ahead. The last thing they needed was for him to trip because he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going.
“Several. Most of them involve shooting as many of them as I can before I run out of ammunition.”
“Let’s try to avoid that unless absolutely necessary.”
“All right then, follow me,” and with that she abruptly cut in front of him, dashing into what appeared to be a darkened conference room. The Doctor, stumbling slightly, hooked a hand around the doorjamb and swung himself inside just before his feet threatened to shoot out from underneath him. Slamming the door behind him and locking it with the sonic, he turned breathlessly toward her. “So what’s the plan?”
“I’m thinking!” she said irritably, running her hands over the windowpane. “Well, the good news is that we’re still on the first floor, so jumping out the window won’t result in serious injury.”
“What’s the bad news?” he asked as the soldiers who had been following them began to pound on the door.
“There are more troops headed our way out there.” She pointed out the window, and with a scowl the Doctor realized that she was correct. At least fifty soldiers were jogging down the otherwise deserted street. Clearly, Macris or Delvaria had summoned them somehow long before the Doctor and River had tipped their hands. There was no way they could climb out the window without attracting their notice, and no crowd of civilians milling about for them to lose themselves in.
“Then I guess we won’t be heading outside.” He glanced back at the rattling door. “Any other suggestions? I do believe we’re about to have company.”
She grinned, exhilarated by the chase. He was momentarily stunned by how brilliant she looked - this was the part she thrived on, and truth be told, as much as he preferred peaceful solutions, he didn’t exactly dislike it either. “Always, sweetie. Here, give me a leg up.” She held up her foot, and he cupped it in his hands, lifting her toward the (thankfully low) ceiling. Without hesitating, she pushed aside a ceiling tile and pulled herself up.
“It’s not terribly study, but it should hold our weight for a few minutes,” she called down, reaching a hand toward him. Gripping it tightly, the Doctor pulled himself up, feeling grateful that he wasn’t in one of his stockier regenerations. Say what they would about this body, boniness had its advantages.
Hurrying to beat both the guards and physics, the pair crawled across the vast expanse of ventilation ducts and sub-ceiling toward the other side of the building. Neither needed to say that with any luck there wouldn’t be any (or at least as many) soldiers to impede their exit over there.
And, if there were, at least River still had all her ammunition and very good aim.
***
To Be Continued... (tomorrow)