The Long Way Down, part 3b
Continued from Part 3a
"So you're saying that outside these regulated zones, where everything has to be just so, there are slums that no one cares about?" Sarah still had her doubts about the methodology of Rikard and his fellow dissidents, based on the bloody results she'd seen of their rebellion so far, but the more she learned about this world and its imbalanced economy and social structure, the more her blood boiled with support for their cause.
"Those of us who live there care very much," said Rikard.
"But nowhere in this manifesto of woe have you said what you expect to have done about it," Valina argued. "There is so little work available."
"Yet no shortage of wealth among the chosen few, who control all trade to their own advantage," Rikard passionately proclaimed. "They import vital supplies needed simply to survive on this rock and then cripple us with high prices and taxation, all the while denying us the means to earn our living! There are peoples who would die without mineral supplements that must be imported, they are not natural to this world, yet those supplies are held to ransom. We cannot afford to live and cannot afford to leave, so we must have justice, a fair system of taxation, equal opportunities for all "
He was off again, his zeal for his cause unwavering and absolute. Sarah glanced at the Doctor to see if he felt inclined to weigh into the debate, but his attention appeared to be fully absorbed by the tracking device, which he'd fished out of his pocket and was studying intently, with a jeweller's eyeglass pinched into an eye socket and his sonic screwdriver in hand. The ball was in her court on this one, clearly.
"So there's a thriving black market despite government attempts to clamp down and control all trade," she said, raising her voice to summarise what she'd learned so far before Rikard could really get into his stride again. "And they've also been clamping down on dissident groups like yours, which have been agitating for change, and that's why you've started asking your off-world contacts to smuggle weapons in for you as well as the other supplies. Only now this group called the Shad have started to muscle in on the act, like like some kind of intergalactic Mafia."
She watched as the reference went right over his head, of course it did, while the Doctor didn't even seem to be listening. Harry would have got it, if only he were here. But Rikard nodded gloomy understanding of her meaning, nonetheless. "It has happened before suppliers attacked, their cargo stolen, and whatever becomes of the goods then, they are not offered to those that need them."
"Sold on to the larger corporations, perhaps," Sarah guessed. "You know, I once worked on a story that was a lot like this a business corruption case. My editor stole the by-line." She'd been very young and very green and it still rankled. "It boosts their profit margins, you see: no import duty, but they can retail for the same inflated rate without anyone knowing."
"What? Is that true?" Valina swung around, wide-eyed at the notion of such corruption, perhaps even on the part of the store where she worked.
"All I know is, these were the last who would trade with us and if they give up, if this shipment is gone I don't know what we'll do, we need those supplies, people will die but we have no recourse," Rikard moaned, and the Doctor finally looked up from his preoccupation with the tracking device to bestow a magnanimous grin upon the man.
"What, complain to the militia that your illegal smuggling ring "
"Necessary!
" Has come under attack from illegal pirates? No, I don't suppose that would go down terribly well."
"All this talk," said Valina through gritted teeth, the set of her shoulders taut and tense. "Is there a plan to come from all this? Or have I sacrificed my good name for the privilege of flying in circles until my fuel runs out and the militia set upon us?"
"Quite right, Valina, we can't stay here forever," the Doctor briskly agreed, head bent over his work again. Sarah peered over his shoulder trying to see what he was doing.
"I thought you said we couldn't disable that without setting off alarm bells," she said, and he shrugged expansively.
"Who said anything about disabling it? This is a very sophisticated piece of equipment, Sarah." He glanced up at her with a brilliant smile. "Perhaps a little too sophisticated for its own good. Take a look at that scanner."
She did as he said, for all the good it did her, since she hadn't a clue how to read the display, but Rikard seemed to know what he was talking about.
"You've seen it too, then following our flight pattern exact. It can't be a coincidence. I told you we should have destroyed that thing." He glared at the tiny device in the Doctor's hand.
"Because it's brought the militia onto our tail?" said the Doctor with another dazzling smile. "It may also be our salvation, you know if I can finish these modifications. What we need is a false trail, so if I can adjust this to bounce the signal "
Head bent, he was absorbed in his work once more. Rikard made a strangled growling sound that was pure frustration and turned back to the control console. "I need to make contact with the others, find out if they made it out safely."
"The communications channels may be monitored," the Doctor warned but Rikard shook his head.
"We have a secure system that can be accessed remotely, it's safe if I can tap into it with this antiquated equipment," he said, fiddling furiously with the controls and cursing at them for their inadequacy, to Valina's obvious annoyance. Then he let out an exclamation of surprise. "There's a message someone trying to make contact!"
"It could be a trap," Sarah cautioned, heedful of the Doctor's warnings, but Rikard shook his head again.
"This is the code used by our supplier," he said, and the Doctor was very interested all of a sudden.
"The supplier who was attacked by the piratical Shad, I take it?" He made a thoughtful moue. "Could be handy. Can you make contact securely?"
He could and did and in no time at all was deep in conversation with his black market supplier: a dark, burly alien man with a forked chin, ridged nose and rather a haughty manner. His name was Brunnal, and he wasted no time beating around the bush. His group had been attacked by the Shad and their cargo stolen, he admitted, but he was confident his people could retrieve the goods but only if they were given assurances that the deal was still good, to make the effort worth their while.
"The supplies are needed, the deal must go ahead," Rikard agitatedly insisted.
The Doctor peered over his shoulder. "You know where to find the Shad, then, their headquarters," he said to Brunnal, a statement rather than a question, and on the tiny screen Sarah saw the corners of the alien man's mouth quirk with something that looked like satisfaction.
"In some disarray currently," he said, and the Doctor beamed.
"All the better," he happily declared.
"Why?" Sarah curiously asked, narrowing her eyes because he was up to something, but he simply waggled his eyebrows and tapped his nose as he grinned, always at his most aggravating when he was plotting something.
On the tiny communicator screen, Brunnal half-turned as a door behind him opened a crack, and he spoke briefly to someone just out of sight before turning back to the screen to request the use of a healing unit as part of the deal. "We've a wounded crewmember who would recover all the faster for a dose."
"If you can get us the goods," said Rikard, "Then I'm sure something can be arranged."
Valina glared indignantly at him. "And you're offering my unit, I suppose, since it's my vehicle you're using for your illegal trade, never mind the expense "
"I think lives are a little more important than expense," Rikard snapped.
"Quite right," said the Doctor. "Now, this is what I propose "
dwdwdwdwdw
"Well?" Ren pointedly asked as Brunnal stepped through to the rear compartment of the shuttle after making contact with his buyer.
"They argued among themselves over the cost of healing and the value of a life," he said with a sniff, and she rolled her eyes.
"Very philosophical."
"But what did they say?" Harry pressed, anxious for an answer. "Will they make a try for that detention centre you mentioned help us get the Doctor out?"
Brunnal looked down his nose. "Help you, you mean. It didn't come up."
"No, and I don't suppose you bothered to ask, either," Harry grumbled, exasperated. Nothing ever seemed to be straightforward, and he felt a pang of regret at the thought of the nice orderly sick bay he'd presided over back at UNIT an increasingly distant memory, these days.
"We had business to discuss," Brunnal said with a shrug.
"Then what of that business?" Ren impatiently asked.
"We've agreed to meet," he told her, and to Harry he added, "You can discuss your desire to commit suicide there."
dwdwdwdwdw
"What are you up to?" Sarah asked the Doctor the moment the communication channel was closed, suspicious but in a good way, because he so obviously had something up his sleeve and his confidence was infectious, almost stupidly so. How did he do it? She'd never figured it out. It was just him. Here they were, flying around in circles high above ground with Harry still missing and the militia on their tail, and in spite of it all she was smiling, because the Doctor was planning something, and everything would be okay. This was the effect he had, every time.
Even when she knew he was making it up as he went along.
He waved a hand airily and made a big show of modesty that was completely undercut by how very pleased he was with himself. "Well, I might have an idea or two, Sarah, I will admit."
"But the tracking," Rikard worriedly reminded him.
The Doctor was unconcerned. "The tracking device won't be a problem, Rikard, but the pursuit might are they close enough for visual contact?"
"If you mean can they see us, I hardly see how they could fail at this range," Valina sardonically stated, and the Doctor turned those bright, brilliant eyes of his upon her.
"Well, we'll just have to lose them then, won't we? Traffic this heavy, shouldn't be hard." His energy was unfailing, invigorating everyone around him even Valina wasn't entirely immune, it seemed. "The militia we met earlier didn't strike me as especially bright, you know, so perhaps if we ah." His face lit up. "Just look where we are, Sarah."
Sarah looked, but for a moment couldn't imagine what he expected her to recognise; all the high rises in the citadel seemed to look exactly the same. Then she spotted it. She hadn't seen it from this angle or distance before, but the shape and design of the structure she remembered only too well having so painstakingly climbed up the outside of it only a few hours earlier.
"The re-fuelling station!" she exclaimed. They were right back where they'd started, air cars of all shapes and sizes flying in and out of the openings at every level, and all at once she had a good idea of what the Doctor had in mind for losing their pursuit.
The Doctor leaned over Valina's shoulder, pointing. "Head for one of the busier levels, Valina, nice and steady, let's not tip them off. Oh yes, that's right, plenty of traffic to get lost in. Around that corner now, duck and weave, shake them off you're a natural, Valina!"
Valina looked unsure whether to take that as a compliment or not, frowning as she concentrated hard on her flying.
"So now I reset the tracking device like so, while we're out of their line of vision," the Doctor continued, doing something complicated to the tiny device with the sonic screwdriver and a pin he'd produced from those bottomless pockets of his. "Then if you'll just head for that exit over there we're away."
"But the tracker " Rikard urgently repeated.
The Doctor bestowed his toothiest grin upon the man. "I've set it to project a false signal, Rikard," he cheerfully explained. "To them it'll look just as if their instruments are on the blink, they won't be able to pinpoint us they'll unpick it eventually, of course, but it'll buy us some time."
"Time for what?" asked Sarah, and the Doctor's grin widened.
"Well, now that's the really clever part," he declared with not the slightest attempt at modesty this time, and told Valina to head for the coordinates Brunnal had given them. "You trust your contact, don't you, Rikard? If they play their part, and I think they will, it's in their interest too, we might just manage to throw both the militia and the Shad off your scent."
"Two birds with one stone," Sarah said with a smile and his eyes met hers as he smiled back.
"Exactly! How's our course coming, Valina?"
"These coordinates take us out of the business sector," Valina replied, frowning. "This location is on the outskirts of the citadel; I've never been there a very insalubrious district."
"Well, where else would pirates hole up?"
"This is really where you want to go?"
"Absolutely," said the Doctor.
dwdwdwdwdw
"Wait, you arranged to meet where?" Ren demanded. Brunnal held her glare stubbornly.
"The rebels are anxious to close the deal, so they are meeting us there."
"At the Shad headquarters "
"Not at it, near it "
"Where you wanted to go in the first place I should have known you'd swing it that way." The way she rolled her eyes suggested that Brunnal managed to arrange things his own way rather frequently.
Harry sighed, heart sinking. "So the mission to retrieve the cargo comes first after all."
"They are meeting us there. I thought you'd be pleased," Brunnal grumbled. "We close our deal and you get to go off with the rebels for your suicide run on that detention centre, since you're so determined. We all win."
"I'm not sure 'win' is quite the term I'd use," said Ren, "But I suppose the arrangement will do."
Harry had no choice but to agree.
dwdwdwdwdw
As the elegant skyrises of the business sector gave way to much smaller, sparser buildings in the district beyond, Rikard became very quiet, hanging back at the rear of Valina's vehicle with his shoulders hunched and head bowed, a curtain of wild dark hair falling forward to frame his pinched, worried face.
Valina was at the helm still and the Doctor also seemed preoccupied, standing behind her with a hand on the back of her chair, gazing out at the view, so that left morale on Sarah's shoulders, it seemed.
She moved back to join Rikard, made her voice as warm and gentle as she could. "Are you all right?"
"All this was once industry intended to support the colony," he said without looking up. "But the inner citadels outstripped it, looked elsewhere for their wealth and abandoned the workers they'd imported, with no means of support and no means of escape." He turned haunted eyes upon her and his voice was shaky. "It has to be worthwhile. All of this so many lives given to the cause it must have meaning."
"I'm sorry," Sarah offered, knowing it wasn't enough. "Those that died today, they were your friends."
"Their sacrifice will have meaning." He looked desperate. "It must when we get the weapons " and her face must have betrayed her doubts, as he fiercely added, "You think we are wrong to fight?"
"No," she was quick to assure him. "No well, not exactly. Sometimes there's no choice but to fight, if you want to bring about real, lasting change. I understand that, and I don't really know enough about this world to judge, but "
"But what?" His dark eyes bored into her, quick and keen, apparently eager to hear her opinion.
No point beating around the bush. "Well, I'm not sure that hijacking a shop full of customers is going to get you very far, however much you resent what it represents."
"It was a protest, not a hijack," Rikard began to argue, but Sarah was having none of it.
"Oh, come on if these other weapons had arrived in time, what else could it be? What did you think was going to happen?"
"We must make our voices heard." He sounded desperate.
"I agree," Sarah told him, but she knew well from Earth's bloody history just how badly revolts like this often ended. "I'm just not sure that kind of brute force is the answer, not when innocent people end up getting hurt, because something like this militia will always have more brute force to meet it with they've got the weight of the government and the wealth of the corporations behind them. You won't be able to match them, however well you arm yourselves. Not when there are so few of you."
"Then what would you do, in my shoes?"
It was a good question, and she had no good answer to give it.
"I'm hardly an expert," she had to admit. "And I don't know much at all about your world, but well, I'm a journalist, so I suppose I'd use that I'd use every possible tool. I'd try to get the media onside, try to sway public opinion "
"You think we have not tried?"
"I'm sure you have," she conceded. "But you must keep trying and you need the right kind of coverage, you know. Being seen as terrorists does you no favours at all. So work on people like Valina, perhaps, those caught in the middle: get them on your side. They're on the receiving end too, in their own way, trapped in an unjust system. The more public sympathy you can win to your side, the stronger your position."
Rikard nodded. "It's true, but "
"I hate to interrupt your little tête-à-tête," the Doctor called from up front. "But I believe this is it."
Abandoning the debate, Sarah stepped across to join him at the controls, gazing out of the viewscreen at wide, unkempt streets of run-down, dilapidated buildings this was as close to ground level as they'd been yet and it wasn't inviting, to say the least. Rikard had talked about the poverty and deprivation that lay beyond the elegant, immaculate inner citadel, but actually seeing something of it really drove the point home. "Insalubrious is the word," she murmured.
"That rooftop there," the Doctor told Valina, pointing toward what looked like an abandoned industrial building of some sort, and Sarah leaned forward to get a better look.
"Looks as if your supplier is already here," she called to Rikard, who pushed to the front to see for himself.
"They've been in the wars," the Doctor observed, peering down his nose at the vehicle as Valina made her approach, and he wasn't wrong the waiting vehicle, quite a bit larger than Valina's little run-around, had scorch marks along one side, the scars of gunfire by the looks of it, and the front windshield was broken.
"At war with the Shad, we knew there had been skirmishes. You're sure we are not being followed?" Rikard nervously asked.
"Oh ye of little faith," the Doctor cheerfully assured him. "Of course I'm sure."
"All right, here we go." Valina sounded more nervous than Rikard as she brought the vehicle down. "We're doing this. We're really doing this. Oh, I'm so stupid."
Sarah squeezed her arm. "No you aren't."
"I am. I felt sorry for you, and look where it's brought me." There was no rancour in her tone now she seemed more philosophical than anything, having come this far but still Sarah felt the reproof and knew she was guilty, let her hand drop and turned away to look out at the other vehicle again, now that they'd landed.
"That's Brunnal, isn't it?" As the alien man stepped out of the vehicle, she recognised him from their video communication earlier.
"I'll talk to him, complete the deal," said Rikard, heading for the door, and the Doctor followed.
"Yes, I'd like a word with friend Brunnal too there's rather a lot still to do, you know, for this plan to work."
While Valina hesitated, Sarah followed the men automatically, not about to be left out of the action the militia were still searching for them, after all, and the Doctor never had explained the full detail of this cunning plan of his. She caught up just as Rikard was saying, "Brunnal. We've not met in person, but we've done business many times. I am Rikard."
"Yes, and I'm the Doctor," said the Doctor with his most fetching smile, striding forward to shake Brunnal by the hand. "Delighted to meet you, we've a lot to talk about and not much time, so "
"Doctor? Is that ? I don't believe it!"
The shout came from Brunnal's vehicle and the voice was familiar, almost painfully so. It couldn't be, it simply couldn't be, but there was a frantic scramble at the door of the vehicle and a wild-eyed figure came stumbling out, staring in disbelief, and Sarah was running almost before she knew it.
"Harry!" She hurled herself at him and felt his arms close around her, warm and solid and breathing. "But how? I thought you were dead!" She pulled away to smack his arm, suddenly cross because she'd been so very afraid, had imagined such awful things, and here he was all in one piece as if nothing had happened.
"So did I for a moment there, old girl," he rather soberly admitted, and then the Doctor was on him, grabbing his hand and shaking it vigorously before pulling him in to one of those startlingly abrupt split-second hugs of his, grinning like a loon.
"You had us worried, Harry."
"Well, I could say the same about you," Harry retorted.
The Doctor stepped back, still beaming. "I'm delighted to see you again, Harry and splendidly intact I see. I am pleased."
"So this is the careless pilot who dropped a crewman into heavy traffic from a great height," a new voice interrupted, and Sarah looked past Harry to see that another alien being had stepped out of the shuttle behind him, a woman, tall and stately with mottled indigo skin and a fringe of tentacles running around the back of her otherwise bald head, eyeing them curiously with multi-faceted eyes that were bright with intelligence while her lip curled, baring cat-like, needle-sharp teeth.
The Doctor made no attempt to defend himself against the charge. "Yes," he quietly agreed. "I am the careless pilot."
The woman lifted an eyebrow. "Lucky for you it was my shuttle he fell into. The residents of this world are not always, perhaps, so generous."
The Doctor looked at her and looked again at her shuttle, then looked Harry up and down rather sharply he'd got changed, Sarah noticed for the first time, the smart suit he'd been wearing when he fell replaced by some kind of flight suit, a snug fit, the synthetic material tight across his chest, and she was still wondering about that as the Doctor nodded toward the shuttle saying, "Did you do that, Harry?"
Harry looked at the broken windshield and said, "Er," and then said, "I rather think I did, yes," and the Doctor's searching gaze drilled into him again.
"But you're all right now?" he demanded, and Sarah looked from Harry to the damaged shuttle and suddenly understood what they were talking about, shuddered reflexively as those nightmare images of what became of a human body that fell from a great height leapt back into her mind again.
There was patently nothing wrong with Harry now though, which he confirmed with a nod and cheerfully said, "In the pink, Doctor. Ren patched me up, good as new."
The Doctor strode forward and shook the woman's hand vigorously. "Then I'm extremely grateful to you. Sarah and I are very fond of Harry, we should hate to have lost him isn't that right, Sarah?"
"That's right." Sarah tucked an arm through Harry's and squeezed it, and he went a bit pink but pulled his arm away to wrap around her shoulders in a quick, clumsy sideways hug.
"Well, I'm glad you're all right, too," he said, while the woman, Ren, shrugged at the Doctor.
"The debt is already paid," she dismissed.
"Oh, but, er, the healing unit," said Harry, looking toward a rather bemused Rikard. "Do you have one we could borrow?"
They did, although Valina had grumbled mightily about the loan of it, worried about the expense when she had a family to feed. Sarah held it out, explaining, "It belongs to Valina, who gave us a lift here, but she can only spare a single dose."
"Single dose, is it?" Harry looked worried and turned to Brunnal, who nodded.
"It is enough for Dilly. That is what matters."
"Splendid. Well in that case, I think we've a few minutes to spare," the Doctor said. "So let's leave these good people to thrash out their business, Sarah, while Harry sees to his patient."
"Ren's healing unit was used up on me, I'm afraid," Harry told them as they followed him inside, and Sarah wondered how far he'd fallen before he hit the shuttle, how hard the impact had been to cause the damage she'd seen and what kind of miracle cure this healing unit really was. "And then Dilly here got shot while we were rescuing Brunnal from the Shad, so I've done what I can, but I'm sure a quick dose of this will do wonders," he added in typically nonchalant fashion, only Harry could sound so vague and casual about such things, and the Doctor laughed.
"You've been busy, Harry."
Harry turned the device over in his hands, studying it rather worriedly. He glanced sideways at the bulbous bulk of some kind of strange creature lying dozing on a low couch, and wrinkled his nose. "Er I don't actually know how to use this."
"I do, silly," a weak, rather scratchy voice spoke up, and Sarah was startled to see the patient stir, reaching out with a gigantic crab-like claw to take the device from Harry's hand and then gently poke at him with it. "You found your friends."
Harry looked up and caught Sarah's eye, smiling. "I suppose we found each other," he said. "And just when we were least expecting it."
"I'm pleased." Although weak, the injured alien did sound delighted for him.
As Harry bent to take instruction on the use of the healing unit, always ready to learn a new medical technique even using alien equipment he was never likely to encounter again the Doctor watched him for a moment with a fond expression and then said, "Why don't you tell us about your new friends, Harry."
"Oh. Well, er, they're smugglers," Harry offered.
"Yes, we knew that," Sarah told him.
He smiled down at his patient, one of the oddest-looking creatures Sarah had ever seen. "Well, all I can tell you is that they've been very good to me," he said. "They just want to get this deal over and done with now so they can get themselves off-world again. Have something to eat, Sarah," he added as if he'd only just thought of it, waving a hand toward some food on a small table nearby, which almost certainly wasn't his to offer but Sarah's stomach rumbled loudly at the mere sight of it.
"What's it like, any good?"
The first bite of something that looked vaguely fruit-like was already in her mouth when Harry replied, "No but it'll fill a gap if you're peckish," and then grinned at the look on her face when the taste hit. She kicked his ankle gently, because the relief hadn't worn off yet, but hard enough to make the point and forced the foul-tasting mouthful down, wondering if she was hungry enough to stomach any more. Then something else occurred to her.
"Hang on: if they're leaving the planet, what were you going to do?"
Harry didn't answer for a moment, too busy with his patient, peeling off a stained wound-dressing to examine the seemingly unmarked skin beneath, the miracle cure clearly taking effect already. "I say, that's remarkable," he murmured to himself before turning back to Sarah. "Well you see, Ren looked up a sort of news channel and found a report about the Doctor being arrested after some kind of political demonstration at least, I thought it was you," he said to the Doctor, who had a little smile on his face and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying just listening to him rambling toward his point.
"It was," said Sarah, setting her half-eaten fruit aside.
"In league with the local rebels, eh," Harry grinned. "Yes, I thought that was it. So I thought perhaps if I could join up with those rebels," and he waved a hand toward the door and the negotiations taking place outside, "Well, we could see what was to be done about it all."
The Doctor beamed beatifically. "A logical plan," he approved. "We're one step ahead of you, of course."
"Of course," Harry dryly replied, no longer as bemused by the Doctor's high-handed ways as he'd once been friendship with the Doctor was one long learning curve, as Sarah well knew.
"Yes, but the militia are only one step behind us," she quickly pointed out, because it didn't do to let the Doctor's head swell too much and he seemed to have forgotten that not-so-minor detail.
"Quite right, Sarah." He was all business again.
"Militia?" Harry and his alien patient, Dilly, spoke up almost with one voice, the one sounding puzzled and the other alarmed, and Dilly pushed up off the couch, allowing Sarah a good look at the creature for the first time: grey-brown in colour and shaped like a giant lobster, with a myriad of legs and arms and antennae, bulbous eyes on waving eye stalks and gigantic claws which it clicked frantically while making a curious chittering sound of unease. "Are militia coming? Why are the militia coming?"
"They're after us," Sarah admitted, hastily adding, "But it's okay because they can't find us not yet anyway. And the Doctor has a plan."
Both Dilly and Harry stared at her for a moment and then stared at the Doctor.
"A plan," Dilly snapped at Harry, arms and antennae waving agitatedly. "Your friends bring the militia upon us and they have a plan. Will it work?"
This last was directed at the Doctor, who in return offered a languid smile and rather reproachfully replied, "Of course it will work, and to everyone's benefit including our friends out there."
To that point, the negotiations outside had become rather noisy, and it sounded to Sarah rather more like disagreement than accord. "Our friends out there don't seem to be getting on very well," she observed.
"No, they don't, do they?" the Doctor agreed, wrinkling his nose. "I suppose we'd better find out what's wrong."
With that, he marched out of the shuttle to ask if there was a problem, prompting everyone out there to begin angrily talking all at once. Even Valina was moved to poke her head out of her vehicle to see what was happening. The Doctor listened for a moment, then pulled a paper bag out of his pocket, emptied its contents into his hand jelly babies, of course, which he dropped back into his pocket loose and blew into the bag to blow it up like a balloon. Then he smacked it against the palm of his hand. Bang.
It was only a little 'pop', really, but it worked. Everyone stopped talking and the Doctor smiled. "That's better. Now tell me again: what seems to be the problem?"
"Militia," snarled Brunnal. "You lure us here under the pretence of a deal, knowing all the while that the militia are in pursuit."
"Oh, Rikard mentioned that, did he?" The Doctor gave the rebel rather a reproachful look, as if chastising him for failing to break the news diplomatically enough to forestall this reaction. "Is that a problem?"
"Is that a problem?" Brunnal started forward in fury and had to be restrained by Ren, not that she was any less furious.
"Yes, it's a problem. Of course it's a problem. Can you explain this, Earth man?" she spat at Harry, who opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish, because of course he couldn't.
"It isn't a trick," Sarah called out, anxious to defuse the situation. "I mean, it is, but we aren't tricking you. The Doctor has a plan "
It sounded weak even as she said it; Dilly certainly hadn't seemed convinced and these two were much fierier customers.
"A plan, is it? One that will see us all brought to what passes for justice on this world?" Brunnal produced a gun and levelled it at the Doctor. "Start talking."
On to Part 3b
"So you're saying that outside these regulated zones, where everything has to be just so, there are slums that no one cares about?" Sarah still had her doubts about the methodology of Rikard and his fellow dissidents, based on the bloody results she'd seen of their rebellion so far, but the more she learned about this world and its imbalanced economy and social structure, the more her blood boiled with support for their cause.
"Those of us who live there care very much," said Rikard.
"But nowhere in this manifesto of woe have you said what you expect to have done about it," Valina argued. "There is so little work available."
"Yet no shortage of wealth among the chosen few, who control all trade to their own advantage," Rikard passionately proclaimed. "They import vital supplies needed simply to survive on this rock and then cripple us with high prices and taxation, all the while denying us the means to earn our living! There are peoples who would die without mineral supplements that must be imported, they are not natural to this world, yet those supplies are held to ransom. We cannot afford to live and cannot afford to leave, so we must have justice, a fair system of taxation, equal opportunities for all "
He was off again, his zeal for his cause unwavering and absolute. Sarah glanced at the Doctor to see if he felt inclined to weigh into the debate, but his attention appeared to be fully absorbed by the tracking device, which he'd fished out of his pocket and was studying intently, with a jeweller's eyeglass pinched into an eye socket and his sonic screwdriver in hand. The ball was in her court on this one, clearly.
"So there's a thriving black market despite government attempts to clamp down and control all trade," she said, raising her voice to summarise what she'd learned so far before Rikard could really get into his stride again. "And they've also been clamping down on dissident groups like yours, which have been agitating for change, and that's why you've started asking your off-world contacts to smuggle weapons in for you as well as the other supplies. Only now this group called the Shad have started to muscle in on the act, like like some kind of intergalactic Mafia."
She watched as the reference went right over his head, of course it did, while the Doctor didn't even seem to be listening. Harry would have got it, if only he were here. But Rikard nodded gloomy understanding of her meaning, nonetheless. "It has happened before suppliers attacked, their cargo stolen, and whatever becomes of the goods then, they are not offered to those that need them."
"Sold on to the larger corporations, perhaps," Sarah guessed. "You know, I once worked on a story that was a lot like this a business corruption case. My editor stole the by-line." She'd been very young and very green and it still rankled. "It boosts their profit margins, you see: no import duty, but they can retail for the same inflated rate without anyone knowing."
"What? Is that true?" Valina swung around, wide-eyed at the notion of such corruption, perhaps even on the part of the store where she worked.
"All I know is, these were the last who would trade with us and if they give up, if this shipment is gone I don't know what we'll do, we need those supplies, people will die but we have no recourse," Rikard moaned, and the Doctor finally looked up from his preoccupation with the tracking device to bestow a magnanimous grin upon the man.
"What, complain to the militia that your illegal smuggling ring "
"Necessary!
" Has come under attack from illegal pirates? No, I don't suppose that would go down terribly well."
"All this talk," said Valina through gritted teeth, the set of her shoulders taut and tense. "Is there a plan to come from all this? Or have I sacrificed my good name for the privilege of flying in circles until my fuel runs out and the militia set upon us?"
"Quite right, Valina, we can't stay here forever," the Doctor briskly agreed, head bent over his work again. Sarah peered over his shoulder trying to see what he was doing.
"I thought you said we couldn't disable that without setting off alarm bells," she said, and he shrugged expansively.
"Who said anything about disabling it? This is a very sophisticated piece of equipment, Sarah." He glanced up at her with a brilliant smile. "Perhaps a little too sophisticated for its own good. Take a look at that scanner."
She did as he said, for all the good it did her, since she hadn't a clue how to read the display, but Rikard seemed to know what he was talking about.
"You've seen it too, then following our flight pattern exact. It can't be a coincidence. I told you we should have destroyed that thing." He glared at the tiny device in the Doctor's hand.
"Because it's brought the militia onto our tail?" said the Doctor with another dazzling smile. "It may also be our salvation, you know if I can finish these modifications. What we need is a false trail, so if I can adjust this to bounce the signal "
Head bent, he was absorbed in his work once more. Rikard made a strangled growling sound that was pure frustration and turned back to the control console. "I need to make contact with the others, find out if they made it out safely."
"The communications channels may be monitored," the Doctor warned but Rikard shook his head.
"We have a secure system that can be accessed remotely, it's safe if I can tap into it with this antiquated equipment," he said, fiddling furiously with the controls and cursing at them for their inadequacy, to Valina's obvious annoyance. Then he let out an exclamation of surprise. "There's a message someone trying to make contact!"
"It could be a trap," Sarah cautioned, heedful of the Doctor's warnings, but Rikard shook his head again.
"This is the code used by our supplier," he said, and the Doctor was very interested all of a sudden.
"The supplier who was attacked by the piratical Shad, I take it?" He made a thoughtful moue. "Could be handy. Can you make contact securely?"
He could and did and in no time at all was deep in conversation with his black market supplier: a dark, burly alien man with a forked chin, ridged nose and rather a haughty manner. His name was Brunnal, and he wasted no time beating around the bush. His group had been attacked by the Shad and their cargo stolen, he admitted, but he was confident his people could retrieve the goods but only if they were given assurances that the deal was still good, to make the effort worth their while.
"The supplies are needed, the deal must go ahead," Rikard agitatedly insisted.
The Doctor peered over his shoulder. "You know where to find the Shad, then, their headquarters," he said to Brunnal, a statement rather than a question, and on the tiny screen Sarah saw the corners of the alien man's mouth quirk with something that looked like satisfaction.
"In some disarray currently," he said, and the Doctor beamed.
"All the better," he happily declared.
"Why?" Sarah curiously asked, narrowing her eyes because he was up to something, but he simply waggled his eyebrows and tapped his nose as he grinned, always at his most aggravating when he was plotting something.
On the tiny communicator screen, Brunnal half-turned as a door behind him opened a crack, and he spoke briefly to someone just out of sight before turning back to the screen to request the use of a healing unit as part of the deal. "We've a wounded crewmember who would recover all the faster for a dose."
"If you can get us the goods," said Rikard, "Then I'm sure something can be arranged."
Valina glared indignantly at him. "And you're offering my unit, I suppose, since it's my vehicle you're using for your illegal trade, never mind the expense "
"I think lives are a little more important than expense," Rikard snapped.
"Quite right," said the Doctor. "Now, this is what I propose "
dwdwdwdwdw
"Well?" Ren pointedly asked as Brunnal stepped through to the rear compartment of the shuttle after making contact with his buyer.
"They argued among themselves over the cost of healing and the value of a life," he said with a sniff, and she rolled her eyes.
"Very philosophical."
"But what did they say?" Harry pressed, anxious for an answer. "Will they make a try for that detention centre you mentioned help us get the Doctor out?"
Brunnal looked down his nose. "Help you, you mean. It didn't come up."
"No, and I don't suppose you bothered to ask, either," Harry grumbled, exasperated. Nothing ever seemed to be straightforward, and he felt a pang of regret at the thought of the nice orderly sick bay he'd presided over back at UNIT an increasingly distant memory, these days.
"We had business to discuss," Brunnal said with a shrug.
"Then what of that business?" Ren impatiently asked.
"We've agreed to meet," he told her, and to Harry he added, "You can discuss your desire to commit suicide there."
dwdwdwdwdw
"What are you up to?" Sarah asked the Doctor the moment the communication channel was closed, suspicious but in a good way, because he so obviously had something up his sleeve and his confidence was infectious, almost stupidly so. How did he do it? She'd never figured it out. It was just him. Here they were, flying around in circles high above ground with Harry still missing and the militia on their tail, and in spite of it all she was smiling, because the Doctor was planning something, and everything would be okay. This was the effect he had, every time.
Even when she knew he was making it up as he went along.
He waved a hand airily and made a big show of modesty that was completely undercut by how very pleased he was with himself. "Well, I might have an idea or two, Sarah, I will admit."
"But the tracking," Rikard worriedly reminded him.
The Doctor was unconcerned. "The tracking device won't be a problem, Rikard, but the pursuit might are they close enough for visual contact?"
"If you mean can they see us, I hardly see how they could fail at this range," Valina sardonically stated, and the Doctor turned those bright, brilliant eyes of his upon her.
"Well, we'll just have to lose them then, won't we? Traffic this heavy, shouldn't be hard." His energy was unfailing, invigorating everyone around him even Valina wasn't entirely immune, it seemed. "The militia we met earlier didn't strike me as especially bright, you know, so perhaps if we ah." His face lit up. "Just look where we are, Sarah."
Sarah looked, but for a moment couldn't imagine what he expected her to recognise; all the high rises in the citadel seemed to look exactly the same. Then she spotted it. She hadn't seen it from this angle or distance before, but the shape and design of the structure she remembered only too well having so painstakingly climbed up the outside of it only a few hours earlier.
"The re-fuelling station!" she exclaimed. They were right back where they'd started, air cars of all shapes and sizes flying in and out of the openings at every level, and all at once she had a good idea of what the Doctor had in mind for losing their pursuit.
The Doctor leaned over Valina's shoulder, pointing. "Head for one of the busier levels, Valina, nice and steady, let's not tip them off. Oh yes, that's right, plenty of traffic to get lost in. Around that corner now, duck and weave, shake them off you're a natural, Valina!"
Valina looked unsure whether to take that as a compliment or not, frowning as she concentrated hard on her flying.
"So now I reset the tracking device like so, while we're out of their line of vision," the Doctor continued, doing something complicated to the tiny device with the sonic screwdriver and a pin he'd produced from those bottomless pockets of his. "Then if you'll just head for that exit over there we're away."
"But the tracker " Rikard urgently repeated.
The Doctor bestowed his toothiest grin upon the man. "I've set it to project a false signal, Rikard," he cheerfully explained. "To them it'll look just as if their instruments are on the blink, they won't be able to pinpoint us they'll unpick it eventually, of course, but it'll buy us some time."
"Time for what?" asked Sarah, and the Doctor's grin widened.
"Well, now that's the really clever part," he declared with not the slightest attempt at modesty this time, and told Valina to head for the coordinates Brunnal had given them. "You trust your contact, don't you, Rikard? If they play their part, and I think they will, it's in their interest too, we might just manage to throw both the militia and the Shad off your scent."
"Two birds with one stone," Sarah said with a smile and his eyes met hers as he smiled back.
"Exactly! How's our course coming, Valina?"
"These coordinates take us out of the business sector," Valina replied, frowning. "This location is on the outskirts of the citadel; I've never been there a very insalubrious district."
"Well, where else would pirates hole up?"
"This is really where you want to go?"
"Absolutely," said the Doctor.
dwdwdwdwdw
"Wait, you arranged to meet where?" Ren demanded. Brunnal held her glare stubbornly.
"The rebels are anxious to close the deal, so they are meeting us there."
"At the Shad headquarters "
"Not at it, near it "
"Where you wanted to go in the first place I should have known you'd swing it that way." The way she rolled her eyes suggested that Brunnal managed to arrange things his own way rather frequently.
Harry sighed, heart sinking. "So the mission to retrieve the cargo comes first after all."
"They are meeting us there. I thought you'd be pleased," Brunnal grumbled. "We close our deal and you get to go off with the rebels for your suicide run on that detention centre, since you're so determined. We all win."
"I'm not sure 'win' is quite the term I'd use," said Ren, "But I suppose the arrangement will do."
Harry had no choice but to agree.
dwdwdwdwdw
As the elegant skyrises of the business sector gave way to much smaller, sparser buildings in the district beyond, Rikard became very quiet, hanging back at the rear of Valina's vehicle with his shoulders hunched and head bowed, a curtain of wild dark hair falling forward to frame his pinched, worried face.
Valina was at the helm still and the Doctor also seemed preoccupied, standing behind her with a hand on the back of her chair, gazing out at the view, so that left morale on Sarah's shoulders, it seemed.
She moved back to join Rikard, made her voice as warm and gentle as she could. "Are you all right?"
"All this was once industry intended to support the colony," he said without looking up. "But the inner citadels outstripped it, looked elsewhere for their wealth and abandoned the workers they'd imported, with no means of support and no means of escape." He turned haunted eyes upon her and his voice was shaky. "It has to be worthwhile. All of this so many lives given to the cause it must have meaning."
"I'm sorry," Sarah offered, knowing it wasn't enough. "Those that died today, they were your friends."
"Their sacrifice will have meaning." He looked desperate. "It must when we get the weapons " and her face must have betrayed her doubts, as he fiercely added, "You think we are wrong to fight?"
"No," she was quick to assure him. "No well, not exactly. Sometimes there's no choice but to fight, if you want to bring about real, lasting change. I understand that, and I don't really know enough about this world to judge, but "
"But what?" His dark eyes bored into her, quick and keen, apparently eager to hear her opinion.
No point beating around the bush. "Well, I'm not sure that hijacking a shop full of customers is going to get you very far, however much you resent what it represents."
"It was a protest, not a hijack," Rikard began to argue, but Sarah was having none of it.
"Oh, come on if these other weapons had arrived in time, what else could it be? What did you think was going to happen?"
"We must make our voices heard." He sounded desperate.
"I agree," Sarah told him, but she knew well from Earth's bloody history just how badly revolts like this often ended. "I'm just not sure that kind of brute force is the answer, not when innocent people end up getting hurt, because something like this militia will always have more brute force to meet it with they've got the weight of the government and the wealth of the corporations behind them. You won't be able to match them, however well you arm yourselves. Not when there are so few of you."
"Then what would you do, in my shoes?"
It was a good question, and she had no good answer to give it.
"I'm hardly an expert," she had to admit. "And I don't know much at all about your world, but well, I'm a journalist, so I suppose I'd use that I'd use every possible tool. I'd try to get the media onside, try to sway public opinion "
"You think we have not tried?"
"I'm sure you have," she conceded. "But you must keep trying and you need the right kind of coverage, you know. Being seen as terrorists does you no favours at all. So work on people like Valina, perhaps, those caught in the middle: get them on your side. They're on the receiving end too, in their own way, trapped in an unjust system. The more public sympathy you can win to your side, the stronger your position."
Rikard nodded. "It's true, but "
"I hate to interrupt your little tête-à-tête," the Doctor called from up front. "But I believe this is it."
Abandoning the debate, Sarah stepped across to join him at the controls, gazing out of the viewscreen at wide, unkempt streets of run-down, dilapidated buildings this was as close to ground level as they'd been yet and it wasn't inviting, to say the least. Rikard had talked about the poverty and deprivation that lay beyond the elegant, immaculate inner citadel, but actually seeing something of it really drove the point home. "Insalubrious is the word," she murmured.
"That rooftop there," the Doctor told Valina, pointing toward what looked like an abandoned industrial building of some sort, and Sarah leaned forward to get a better look.
"Looks as if your supplier is already here," she called to Rikard, who pushed to the front to see for himself.
"They've been in the wars," the Doctor observed, peering down his nose at the vehicle as Valina made her approach, and he wasn't wrong the waiting vehicle, quite a bit larger than Valina's little run-around, had scorch marks along one side, the scars of gunfire by the looks of it, and the front windshield was broken.
"At war with the Shad, we knew there had been skirmishes. You're sure we are not being followed?" Rikard nervously asked.
"Oh ye of little faith," the Doctor cheerfully assured him. "Of course I'm sure."
"All right, here we go." Valina sounded more nervous than Rikard as she brought the vehicle down. "We're doing this. We're really doing this. Oh, I'm so stupid."
Sarah squeezed her arm. "No you aren't."
"I am. I felt sorry for you, and look where it's brought me." There was no rancour in her tone now she seemed more philosophical than anything, having come this far but still Sarah felt the reproof and knew she was guilty, let her hand drop and turned away to look out at the other vehicle again, now that they'd landed.
"That's Brunnal, isn't it?" As the alien man stepped out of the vehicle, she recognised him from their video communication earlier.
"I'll talk to him, complete the deal," said Rikard, heading for the door, and the Doctor followed.
"Yes, I'd like a word with friend Brunnal too there's rather a lot still to do, you know, for this plan to work."
While Valina hesitated, Sarah followed the men automatically, not about to be left out of the action the militia were still searching for them, after all, and the Doctor never had explained the full detail of this cunning plan of his. She caught up just as Rikard was saying, "Brunnal. We've not met in person, but we've done business many times. I am Rikard."
"Yes, and I'm the Doctor," said the Doctor with his most fetching smile, striding forward to shake Brunnal by the hand. "Delighted to meet you, we've a lot to talk about and not much time, so "
"Doctor? Is that ? I don't believe it!"
The shout came from Brunnal's vehicle and the voice was familiar, almost painfully so. It couldn't be, it simply couldn't be, but there was a frantic scramble at the door of the vehicle and a wild-eyed figure came stumbling out, staring in disbelief, and Sarah was running almost before she knew it.
"Harry!" She hurled herself at him and felt his arms close around her, warm and solid and breathing. "But how? I thought you were dead!" She pulled away to smack his arm, suddenly cross because she'd been so very afraid, had imagined such awful things, and here he was all in one piece as if nothing had happened.
"So did I for a moment there, old girl," he rather soberly admitted, and then the Doctor was on him, grabbing his hand and shaking it vigorously before pulling him in to one of those startlingly abrupt split-second hugs of his, grinning like a loon.
"You had us worried, Harry."
"Well, I could say the same about you," Harry retorted.
The Doctor stepped back, still beaming. "I'm delighted to see you again, Harry and splendidly intact I see. I am pleased."
"So this is the careless pilot who dropped a crewman into heavy traffic from a great height," a new voice interrupted, and Sarah looked past Harry to see that another alien being had stepped out of the shuttle behind him, a woman, tall and stately with mottled indigo skin and a fringe of tentacles running around the back of her otherwise bald head, eyeing them curiously with multi-faceted eyes that were bright with intelligence while her lip curled, baring cat-like, needle-sharp teeth.
The Doctor made no attempt to defend himself against the charge. "Yes," he quietly agreed. "I am the careless pilot."
The woman lifted an eyebrow. "Lucky for you it was my shuttle he fell into. The residents of this world are not always, perhaps, so generous."
The Doctor looked at her and looked again at her shuttle, then looked Harry up and down rather sharply he'd got changed, Sarah noticed for the first time, the smart suit he'd been wearing when he fell replaced by some kind of flight suit, a snug fit, the synthetic material tight across his chest, and she was still wondering about that as the Doctor nodded toward the shuttle saying, "Did you do that, Harry?"
Harry looked at the broken windshield and said, "Er," and then said, "I rather think I did, yes," and the Doctor's searching gaze drilled into him again.
"But you're all right now?" he demanded, and Sarah looked from Harry to the damaged shuttle and suddenly understood what they were talking about, shuddered reflexively as those nightmare images of what became of a human body that fell from a great height leapt back into her mind again.
There was patently nothing wrong with Harry now though, which he confirmed with a nod and cheerfully said, "In the pink, Doctor. Ren patched me up, good as new."
The Doctor strode forward and shook the woman's hand vigorously. "Then I'm extremely grateful to you. Sarah and I are very fond of Harry, we should hate to have lost him isn't that right, Sarah?"
"That's right." Sarah tucked an arm through Harry's and squeezed it, and he went a bit pink but pulled his arm away to wrap around her shoulders in a quick, clumsy sideways hug.
"Well, I'm glad you're all right, too," he said, while the woman, Ren, shrugged at the Doctor.
"The debt is already paid," she dismissed.
"Oh, but, er, the healing unit," said Harry, looking toward a rather bemused Rikard. "Do you have one we could borrow?"
They did, although Valina had grumbled mightily about the loan of it, worried about the expense when she had a family to feed. Sarah held it out, explaining, "It belongs to Valina, who gave us a lift here, but she can only spare a single dose."
"Single dose, is it?" Harry looked worried and turned to Brunnal, who nodded.
"It is enough for Dilly. That is what matters."
"Splendid. Well in that case, I think we've a few minutes to spare," the Doctor said. "So let's leave these good people to thrash out their business, Sarah, while Harry sees to his patient."
"Ren's healing unit was used up on me, I'm afraid," Harry told them as they followed him inside, and Sarah wondered how far he'd fallen before he hit the shuttle, how hard the impact had been to cause the damage she'd seen and what kind of miracle cure this healing unit really was. "And then Dilly here got shot while we were rescuing Brunnal from the Shad, so I've done what I can, but I'm sure a quick dose of this will do wonders," he added in typically nonchalant fashion, only Harry could sound so vague and casual about such things, and the Doctor laughed.
"You've been busy, Harry."
Harry turned the device over in his hands, studying it rather worriedly. He glanced sideways at the bulbous bulk of some kind of strange creature lying dozing on a low couch, and wrinkled his nose. "Er I don't actually know how to use this."
"I do, silly," a weak, rather scratchy voice spoke up, and Sarah was startled to see the patient stir, reaching out with a gigantic crab-like claw to take the device from Harry's hand and then gently poke at him with it. "You found your friends."
Harry looked up and caught Sarah's eye, smiling. "I suppose we found each other," he said. "And just when we were least expecting it."
"I'm pleased." Although weak, the injured alien did sound delighted for him.
As Harry bent to take instruction on the use of the healing unit, always ready to learn a new medical technique even using alien equipment he was never likely to encounter again the Doctor watched him for a moment with a fond expression and then said, "Why don't you tell us about your new friends, Harry."
"Oh. Well, er, they're smugglers," Harry offered.
"Yes, we knew that," Sarah told him.
He smiled down at his patient, one of the oddest-looking creatures Sarah had ever seen. "Well, all I can tell you is that they've been very good to me," he said. "They just want to get this deal over and done with now so they can get themselves off-world again. Have something to eat, Sarah," he added as if he'd only just thought of it, waving a hand toward some food on a small table nearby, which almost certainly wasn't his to offer but Sarah's stomach rumbled loudly at the mere sight of it.
"What's it like, any good?"
The first bite of something that looked vaguely fruit-like was already in her mouth when Harry replied, "No but it'll fill a gap if you're peckish," and then grinned at the look on her face when the taste hit. She kicked his ankle gently, because the relief hadn't worn off yet, but hard enough to make the point and forced the foul-tasting mouthful down, wondering if she was hungry enough to stomach any more. Then something else occurred to her.
"Hang on: if they're leaving the planet, what were you going to do?"
Harry didn't answer for a moment, too busy with his patient, peeling off a stained wound-dressing to examine the seemingly unmarked skin beneath, the miracle cure clearly taking effect already. "I say, that's remarkable," he murmured to himself before turning back to Sarah. "Well you see, Ren looked up a sort of news channel and found a report about the Doctor being arrested after some kind of political demonstration at least, I thought it was you," he said to the Doctor, who had a little smile on his face and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying just listening to him rambling toward his point.
"It was," said Sarah, setting her half-eaten fruit aside.
"In league with the local rebels, eh," Harry grinned. "Yes, I thought that was it. So I thought perhaps if I could join up with those rebels," and he waved a hand toward the door and the negotiations taking place outside, "Well, we could see what was to be done about it all."
The Doctor beamed beatifically. "A logical plan," he approved. "We're one step ahead of you, of course."
"Of course," Harry dryly replied, no longer as bemused by the Doctor's high-handed ways as he'd once been friendship with the Doctor was one long learning curve, as Sarah well knew.
"Yes, but the militia are only one step behind us," she quickly pointed out, because it didn't do to let the Doctor's head swell too much and he seemed to have forgotten that not-so-minor detail.
"Quite right, Sarah." He was all business again.
"Militia?" Harry and his alien patient, Dilly, spoke up almost with one voice, the one sounding puzzled and the other alarmed, and Dilly pushed up off the couch, allowing Sarah a good look at the creature for the first time: grey-brown in colour and shaped like a giant lobster, with a myriad of legs and arms and antennae, bulbous eyes on waving eye stalks and gigantic claws which it clicked frantically while making a curious chittering sound of unease. "Are militia coming? Why are the militia coming?"
"They're after us," Sarah admitted, hastily adding, "But it's okay because they can't find us not yet anyway. And the Doctor has a plan."
Both Dilly and Harry stared at her for a moment and then stared at the Doctor.
"A plan," Dilly snapped at Harry, arms and antennae waving agitatedly. "Your friends bring the militia upon us and they have a plan. Will it work?"
This last was directed at the Doctor, who in return offered a languid smile and rather reproachfully replied, "Of course it will work, and to everyone's benefit including our friends out there."
To that point, the negotiations outside had become rather noisy, and it sounded to Sarah rather more like disagreement than accord. "Our friends out there don't seem to be getting on very well," she observed.
"No, they don't, do they?" the Doctor agreed, wrinkling his nose. "I suppose we'd better find out what's wrong."
With that, he marched out of the shuttle to ask if there was a problem, prompting everyone out there to begin angrily talking all at once. Even Valina was moved to poke her head out of her vehicle to see what was happening. The Doctor listened for a moment, then pulled a paper bag out of his pocket, emptied its contents into his hand jelly babies, of course, which he dropped back into his pocket loose and blew into the bag to blow it up like a balloon. Then he smacked it against the palm of his hand. Bang.
It was only a little 'pop', really, but it worked. Everyone stopped talking and the Doctor smiled. "That's better. Now tell me again: what seems to be the problem?"
"Militia," snarled Brunnal. "You lure us here under the pretence of a deal, knowing all the while that the militia are in pursuit."
"Oh, Rikard mentioned that, did he?" The Doctor gave the rebel rather a reproachful look, as if chastising him for failing to break the news diplomatically enough to forestall this reaction. "Is that a problem?"
"Is that a problem?" Brunnal started forward in fury and had to be restrained by Ren, not that she was any less furious.
"Yes, it's a problem. Of course it's a problem. Can you explain this, Earth man?" she spat at Harry, who opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish, because of course he couldn't.
"It isn't a trick," Sarah called out, anxious to defuse the situation. "I mean, it is, but we aren't tricking you. The Doctor has a plan "
It sounded weak even as she said it; Dilly certainly hadn't seemed convinced and these two were much fierier customers.
"A plan, is it? One that will see us all brought to what passes for justice on this world?" Brunnal produced a gun and levelled it at the Doctor. "Start talking."
On to Part 3b