Fic: The Oblivion Effect (Part One)
Title: The Oblivion Effect, Part One
Author: the_tenzo
Beta: ladychi
Pairing: River/Rose
Rating: Teen (mild violence and sexual situations)
Warnings (highlight to view): Character death (OC), suicide
Genre: AU, action/adventure, sci-fi
Summary: She's a 21st century London girl. She's a 51st century Time Agent. Together, they save their (alternate) universe! Sexily.
Download for mobile devices at AO3
A/N: Once upon a time I wrote some silly porn about another Rose from another dimension who was a Time Agent rather than the Doctor's companion. Then I started to think about that dimension's River Song and what she'd be up to in a Doctorless universe. Inevitably, my thoughts went to Rose/River-y places. And then shit got plotty.
The Oblivion Effect
"For the first nineteen years of my life nothing happened. Nothing at all. Not ever. And then I met--"
A metallic crackle sails through the stale air. "A little less dramatic, please, Agent Tyler." There's a pop as the intercom turns off again.
Rose pushes a lock of hair behind her ear. "Right," she drawls. "The boring version. My recruitment into the Agency occurred on 26 March, 2005, when I was 19 years of age. Inducting agent: River Song. I have served with Special Branch with a clearance of 23-Mauve-Crosshatch for the past four linear years."
The unseen voice again: "And in that time, you have been brought up on disciplinary charges... five--no, excuse me, six times."
She levels her gaze at the camera that she knows is behind the gunmetal grey wall across from where she is seated. "Counting this go, that'd be seven, actually."
"Which is three more incidents than should have triggered a full review of your file. You are long over-due. Perhaps Agent Song liked to run her operations by her own rules, but in her absence, we have no choice but to follow established procedure."
In her absence.
Those three words sting her and send her skin prickling. She grips the armrest of her chair, hoping her unseen inquisitors won't notice her white knuckles. Like the paper finger-traps that she used to get at friends' birthday parties as a child, the more she visibly struggles during this process, the longer she will be delayed. And the longer it will be before she can make right everything that has gone wrong.
***
The first time Rose Tyler travelled via vortex manipulator, she vomited right there on the pavement, while this strange woman in khaki shook her head and tutted.
"You had better get used to that, dear."
Rose spat a few times and wiped her mouth before even beginning to try to assemble the pieces of what had just occurred. "What was that?"
The woman just stood there with a lopsided smile, one hand on a shapely hip, fingers just barely grazing the rather large gun that she openly wore.
"Where are we?" Rose asked, simultaneously noting how stupid of a question that was. They were obviously on the Embankment, across from the London Eye. But just a second ago, they'd been somewhere else entirely. The question wasn't so much where but how.
"Right," the woman said, punching some buttons on what looked like an overly-large wrist-watch. "It'll be using the Eye as a giant transmitter, so it's quite nearby. Possibly right underneath our feet. Off we go, then," she said, and strode towards Westminster Bridge.
Rose trotted along behind her, mind swimming with questions.
"But why did you say I'd have to get used to that?" Rose asked, getting winded trying to keep up with the woman's pace. "Are we going to have to do... whatever that was again?"
The woman in khaki cocked her head over her shoulder slightly. "You'll have to do it quite a lot, when you join the Agency."
They were crossing over the bridge now, and the noise of the traffic made conversing difficult. Rose couldn't be quite sure that she heard correctly.
"I'm sorry: when I join the Agency? What Agency? Who are you?"
The woman stopped walking abruptly, nearly causing Rose to run right into her. The purple lights of the Eye flashed behind the curls of the woman's hair, like a crown, and she smiled down on Rose benevolently.
"I'm your new boss," she said, and turned on her heel again. "Do try and keep up."
***
"Our records indicate that your last check with your Agency liaison was three linear weeks ago. Is that correct?"
They had let Rose go back to her quarters, shower, change clothes and grab a bit of bunk time. Now returned to the claustrophobic grey room (exactly like a lift, she thought), that disembodied voice is back at it.
"Far as I know," she answers, trying to sound nonchalant. "It was creamed schweed in the canteen that day, yeah?"
No response.
"I'm sure it's in your own records. I scanned my ID when I reported, so you know as well as I do."
"And was Agent Tiro with you at that time?"
Rose feels the bile rise in her throat, which she disguises as a coughing fit. She images River watching her, disapproving of this frankly amateur display of bluffing. Over time, they'd developed a bit of a division of labour, she and River, and lying was never on the rota for Rose for a reason.
"No, he was not," she chokes out finally. "Which you also know." Even though you know less than nothing, she continues in her head. Even though every minute you keep me here, the list of things you know grows shorter and shorter.
The faint drone of white noise emitted by the intercom is broken again. "And where were you prior to your arrival?"
Her pulse quickens, and she hopes they are not running a bioscan on her. "I was on Farn," she says. "Timestream 367.0054, linear J."
There's a click as if her interrogator has pressed the button to speak, but then turned it off again. Her palms are sweating and this time not due to a lie. The truth is becoming more horrible than any falsehood.
"Location: Farn does not complete search string," says the voice. "Please repeat, Agent Tyler."
It's happening again.
***
Energy discharges sailed over their heads, some coming so disconcertingly close that the hairs on Rose's arms stood on end. River didn't look so much distressed as perturbed. She fussed with a lock of hair that had come free from her ponytail and screwed up her mouth into a pursed-lipped scowl.
"I was not expecting this," River shouted over the sounds of war all around their hiding spot.
Rose made like she was booting her wrist-comp up to take notes. "Hang on... all right, now repeat that please? For posterity, I mean."
"It's not funny. The Farnallax are a peaceful people. Peaceful to the point of being actually irritating," River added.
Looking out over the top of the ditch they'd flattened themselves into, Rose shook her head. "Don't look so peaceful to me."
River blinked slowly. "And so you see the problem. When we got the assignment to investigate a dispute on Farn, I assumed we'd be moderating a negotiation council of some sort. That's much more their speed. A full-on civil war is--"
A bone-rattling explosion tossed debris (and some items Rose didn't fancy thinking about) high into the air overhead.
"So the Farnallax are peaceful except when they aren't, apparently," Rose said after the dust had cleared again. "So something must have tipped this off."
"Well, yes. Bravo."
"Oi, look," Rose said. "I'm just trying to think this through systematically."
River remained silent, which was close to an apology as Rose was going to get.
"So, if you're so knowledgeable about the Farnallax, then what is it that makes them such a peaceful people?" A rocket whizzed over their head, leaving a trail of black exhaust in its wake. "Normally, I mean."
"Do you ever do your homework?"
"Not really my way, is it? 'Sides, you're such a cleverclogs, I don't need to. So, you were saying, about the Farnallax?"
"They're empaths," River said, without hesitation. "Violence becomes a lot less effective when you also feel the pain that you inflict on others."
"So, you think we're looking at something interfering with their empathic abilities?"
"Quite possibly. If I had to make a guess, I'd say that it's the very loss of this sense that has driven them all quite mad." River began punching buttons on her wrist-comp. "The only thing is, my scans aren't turning up anything that could interfere with any sort of psionic energy."
"Did you check the sigma-band reading--"
BOOM!
A shower of debris fell on them, and Rose instinctively brought her hands up to protect her eyes. "Bloody hell!"
She expected the usual string of expletives to ring out from beside her, but after the dust settled, there was nothing but the distant sound of further explosions.
"River?" Rose took a second to wipe the fine crust of dirt from around her eyes before opening them again. "You know, I think we should consider this problem back on the ship-- Oh."
They were no longer alone in their trench.
The inhabitants of Farn are quadrupedal, with two arms and a prehensile tail. That's a lot of limbs with which to hold weapons, all of which were now pointing directly at River. She, in turn, faced off with a gun in each hand, gaze hard, level and unblinking.
This was Rose's least favourite part of her job, the shooty bit. She put her empty hands before her, slowly.
"Okay, all right, let's just take a moment here," she said.
River's eyes darted over to her for the barest fraction of a second.
"Draw your weapon, Tyler."
Rose chose to ignore her.
"I can see that you're quite upset," she said to the trembling Farnallax. "But we're here to help you, yeah? No one needs to shoot anybody."
"Agent Tyler," River again intoned.
Rose knew she was treading on very thin ice, and taking a risk she'd never forgive herself for if it went wrong, but something about the thousand-yard stare in the Farnallax's eyes made her feel like it didn't want to shoot anyone any more than she did. What's more, it was obviously wounded--deep purple blood flowed down its flank and dripped like oil into the dirt.
"You're injured." She pitched her voice to a soothing purr, trying to put the many other possible outcomes of this situation out of her mind. "We have medical facilities, on our ship. We can take you there right now, if you'll just--"
The Farnallax's eyes swivelled wildly in his sockets, as if he was about to lose consciousness. His limbs began to sag with the weight of all those firearms until he finally dropped them one by one, and his four knees buckled. Rose rushed forward as River re-holstered her guns. The reluctant warrior opened his mouth to speak but no noise came out.
"It's all right, we've got you," Rose said, supporting his head in her lap.
River punched a command into her vortex manipulator and the trio was gone in a flash of energy, ported directly to the medical bay on their orbiting cruiser.
"We really need to talk about your Florence Nightingale complex," River said, but not unkindly. "Can you hear me?" She had turned to the Farnallax, crumpled on the floor in the centre of the sterile white room. "What's your name?"
"We are called Twelfth in Cohort Etnn," he said weakly, his voice high and wavering. "We have to tell you--" His voice broke off into laboured wheezing.
River pulled out a tray of prepared first aid supplies appropriate to the Farnallax species class and approached. "Twelfth in Cohort Etnn, I'd just like to sort your wounds out first. Is that all right?"
"We'll talk later," Rose added, retrieving a few plasters for their own various cuts and scrapes. "You're safe now."
Twelfth in Cohort Etnn answered only in a low keening sound.
On the bridge of their cruiser, River slumped into the seat next to Rose.
"How's our friend doing?" Rose asked.
"Sedated."
"Did you get any more information out of him?"
"Still too weak. It may be nothing,just a standard get-us-out-of-here plea for friends and family." She'd been unlacing her boots while she spoke and finally kicked them off. "My feet aren't half killing me."
"Give 'em here," Rose said, smiling and flexing her fingers. "Let me show you a little something I picked up on Opera. No one does a foot massage like a species with twenty feet, I can tell you."
"I know," River yawned, hoisting one foot gingerly into Rose's lap. "I've been."
The various sensors and auto-pilots blinked and let out the occasional informative beep, but otherwise the ship was quiet. A map showed their progress, moving at sublight speed away from the Farn system and back to the nearest Agency safe-moon, where they could continue to care for their charge as well as question him in secure surroundings.
"You think Gessup's going to be on duty when we get there?" Rose asked, applying pressure to River's Achilles tendon.
Breaking out into a spontaneous laugh, River brought a hand to her forehead. "Does the man not know how to knock? I think those big, meaty paws of his must be holograms. It's the only explanation! Right," River pointed to the display. "We're about to leave the Farn system. I should probably boot up the deepspace drives." She stretched her legs and wiggled her toes before easing herself out of the chair with a sigh.
"No, I'll go--"
Alarm bells sang out from several areas of the bridge and screens that had been dead flickered to life.
Rose jumped out of her own chair and ran to the controls. "Are we under attack? I don't see anything. Did we download that cloaking scan update?" She waited a quick beat and when there was no reply, turned around to see the other woman staring mutely at one of the video screens, hands covering the horrified 'o' of her mouth.
A black-and-white image of the medical bay flickered, a timestamp in the bottom corner stupidly ticking away the seconds as the Twelfth in Cohort Etnn lay on the floor, a small energy weapon in one hand and a widening pool of inky blood surrounding him. The life-support readings were all flatlined.
"Oh, god."
She saw River set her jaw and that familiar steeliness again came into her eyes. Rose had once thought River to be coldly (albeit intriguingly) detached, but had later come to know that this reserve was deployed as a force of her formidable will, strategically and selectively. In a way, Rose envied and admired this ability, but also feared it. One day, she thought, it would be turned on her, and it would break her heart.
The footage rewound, jagged lines of static obscuring the moment when this being they had taken into their care took its own life. River hit another button and the screen reassembled the image of the Twelfth in Cohort Etnn jolting awake as if stung, and sitting bolt upright in the bed they'd prepared for him.
His eyes were clear, and Rose realised that the far-away stare that he'd worn the entire time they'd been conversing with him was not his normal expression. Now he was focused, intelligent, and terrified. He looked around the medical bay as if seeing it for the first time, quickly located the surveillance camera and approached it.
"It's too late for us now," he said, looking directly through the lens. "Soon, all things will come to an end."
He held his head and moaned, not the far-away keening of before but a long, piercing wail of blackest anguish. "What have we done?" he cried, and then a small metal table was upended with a clatter, he had the gun in one of his hands and it was all over. The footage caught up to present time and stopped.
Rose felt empty. Her extremities tingled with the shock, but her mind was a blank. They had been up here flirting while that poor man was alone, frightened, desperate... it was too awful. She realised that River had taken her hand briefly but then dropped it.
"I need you to make arrangements for the proper funerary rites." Her voice was as blank as Rose felt.
"But why did he... I mean, you said he was sedated. And what did he mean about it being too late?"
"Just take care of it," River said in a voice so low as to be nearly inaudible.
"It's all my fault, we should have never--"
"That's an order, Tyler."
Rose pursed her lips to force a stop to this nervous babbling. "Right."
[ Part 2 ]
Author: the_tenzo
Beta: ladychi
Pairing: River/Rose
Rating: Teen (mild violence and sexual situations)
Warnings (highlight to view): Character death (OC), suicide
Genre: AU, action/adventure, sci-fi
Summary: She's a 21st century London girl. She's a 51st century Time Agent. Together, they save their (alternate) universe! Sexily.
Download for mobile devices at AO3
A/N: Once upon a time I wrote some silly porn about another Rose from another dimension who was a Time Agent rather than the Doctor's companion. Then I started to think about that dimension's River Song and what she'd be up to in a Doctorless universe. Inevitably, my thoughts went to Rose/River-y places. And then shit got plotty.
The Oblivion Effect
"For the first nineteen years of my life nothing happened. Nothing at all. Not ever. And then I met--"
A metallic crackle sails through the stale air. "A little less dramatic, please, Agent Tyler." There's a pop as the intercom turns off again.
Rose pushes a lock of hair behind her ear. "Right," she drawls. "The boring version. My recruitment into the Agency occurred on 26 March, 2005, when I was 19 years of age. Inducting agent: River Song. I have served with Special Branch with a clearance of 23-Mauve-Crosshatch for the past four linear years."
The unseen voice again: "And in that time, you have been brought up on disciplinary charges... five--no, excuse me, six times."
She levels her gaze at the camera that she knows is behind the gunmetal grey wall across from where she is seated. "Counting this go, that'd be seven, actually."
"Which is three more incidents than should have triggered a full review of your file. You are long over-due. Perhaps Agent Song liked to run her operations by her own rules, but in her absence, we have no choice but to follow established procedure."
In her absence.
Those three words sting her and send her skin prickling. She grips the armrest of her chair, hoping her unseen inquisitors won't notice her white knuckles. Like the paper finger-traps that she used to get at friends' birthday parties as a child, the more she visibly struggles during this process, the longer she will be delayed. And the longer it will be before she can make right everything that has gone wrong.
***
The first time Rose Tyler travelled via vortex manipulator, she vomited right there on the pavement, while this strange woman in khaki shook her head and tutted.
"You had better get used to that, dear."
Rose spat a few times and wiped her mouth before even beginning to try to assemble the pieces of what had just occurred. "What was that?"
The woman just stood there with a lopsided smile, one hand on a shapely hip, fingers just barely grazing the rather large gun that she openly wore.
"Where are we?" Rose asked, simultaneously noting how stupid of a question that was. They were obviously on the Embankment, across from the London Eye. But just a second ago, they'd been somewhere else entirely. The question wasn't so much where but how.
"Right," the woman said, punching some buttons on what looked like an overly-large wrist-watch. "It'll be using the Eye as a giant transmitter, so it's quite nearby. Possibly right underneath our feet. Off we go, then," she said, and strode towards Westminster Bridge.
Rose trotted along behind her, mind swimming with questions.
"But why did you say I'd have to get used to that?" Rose asked, getting winded trying to keep up with the woman's pace. "Are we going to have to do... whatever that was again?"
The woman in khaki cocked her head over her shoulder slightly. "You'll have to do it quite a lot, when you join the Agency."
They were crossing over the bridge now, and the noise of the traffic made conversing difficult. Rose couldn't be quite sure that she heard correctly.
"I'm sorry: when I join the Agency? What Agency? Who are you?"
The woman stopped walking abruptly, nearly causing Rose to run right into her. The purple lights of the Eye flashed behind the curls of the woman's hair, like a crown, and she smiled down on Rose benevolently.
"I'm your new boss," she said, and turned on her heel again. "Do try and keep up."
***
"Our records indicate that your last check with your Agency liaison was three linear weeks ago. Is that correct?"
They had let Rose go back to her quarters, shower, change clothes and grab a bit of bunk time. Now returned to the claustrophobic grey room (exactly like a lift, she thought), that disembodied voice is back at it.
"Far as I know," she answers, trying to sound nonchalant. "It was creamed schweed in the canteen that day, yeah?"
No response.
"I'm sure it's in your own records. I scanned my ID when I reported, so you know as well as I do."
"And was Agent Tiro with you at that time?"
Rose feels the bile rise in her throat, which she disguises as a coughing fit. She images River watching her, disapproving of this frankly amateur display of bluffing. Over time, they'd developed a bit of a division of labour, she and River, and lying was never on the rota for Rose for a reason.
"No, he was not," she chokes out finally. "Which you also know." Even though you know less than nothing, she continues in her head. Even though every minute you keep me here, the list of things you know grows shorter and shorter.
The faint drone of white noise emitted by the intercom is broken again. "And where were you prior to your arrival?"
Her pulse quickens, and she hopes they are not running a bioscan on her. "I was on Farn," she says. "Timestream 367.0054, linear J."
There's a click as if her interrogator has pressed the button to speak, but then turned it off again. Her palms are sweating and this time not due to a lie. The truth is becoming more horrible than any falsehood.
"Location: Farn does not complete search string," says the voice. "Please repeat, Agent Tyler."
It's happening again.
***
Energy discharges sailed over their heads, some coming so disconcertingly close that the hairs on Rose's arms stood on end. River didn't look so much distressed as perturbed. She fussed with a lock of hair that had come free from her ponytail and screwed up her mouth into a pursed-lipped scowl.
"I was not expecting this," River shouted over the sounds of war all around their hiding spot.
Rose made like she was booting her wrist-comp up to take notes. "Hang on... all right, now repeat that please? For posterity, I mean."
"It's not funny. The Farnallax are a peaceful people. Peaceful to the point of being actually irritating," River added.
Looking out over the top of the ditch they'd flattened themselves into, Rose shook her head. "Don't look so peaceful to me."
River blinked slowly. "And so you see the problem. When we got the assignment to investigate a dispute on Farn, I assumed we'd be moderating a negotiation council of some sort. That's much more their speed. A full-on civil war is--"
A bone-rattling explosion tossed debris (and some items Rose didn't fancy thinking about) high into the air overhead.
"So the Farnallax are peaceful except when they aren't, apparently," Rose said after the dust had cleared again. "So something must have tipped this off."
"Well, yes. Bravo."
"Oi, look," Rose said. "I'm just trying to think this through systematically."
River remained silent, which was close to an apology as Rose was going to get.
"So, if you're so knowledgeable about the Farnallax, then what is it that makes them such a peaceful people?" A rocket whizzed over their head, leaving a trail of black exhaust in its wake. "Normally, I mean."
"Do you ever do your homework?"
"Not really my way, is it? 'Sides, you're such a cleverclogs, I don't need to. So, you were saying, about the Farnallax?"
"They're empaths," River said, without hesitation. "Violence becomes a lot less effective when you also feel the pain that you inflict on others."
"So, you think we're looking at something interfering with their empathic abilities?"
"Quite possibly. If I had to make a guess, I'd say that it's the very loss of this sense that has driven them all quite mad." River began punching buttons on her wrist-comp. "The only thing is, my scans aren't turning up anything that could interfere with any sort of psionic energy."
"Did you check the sigma-band reading--"
BOOM!
A shower of debris fell on them, and Rose instinctively brought her hands up to protect her eyes. "Bloody hell!"
She expected the usual string of expletives to ring out from beside her, but after the dust settled, there was nothing but the distant sound of further explosions.
"River?" Rose took a second to wipe the fine crust of dirt from around her eyes before opening them again. "You know, I think we should consider this problem back on the ship-- Oh."
They were no longer alone in their trench.
The inhabitants of Farn are quadrupedal, with two arms and a prehensile tail. That's a lot of limbs with which to hold weapons, all of which were now pointing directly at River. She, in turn, faced off with a gun in each hand, gaze hard, level and unblinking.
This was Rose's least favourite part of her job, the shooty bit. She put her empty hands before her, slowly.
"Okay, all right, let's just take a moment here," she said.
River's eyes darted over to her for the barest fraction of a second.
"Draw your weapon, Tyler."
Rose chose to ignore her.
"I can see that you're quite upset," she said to the trembling Farnallax. "But we're here to help you, yeah? No one needs to shoot anybody."
"Agent Tyler," River again intoned.
Rose knew she was treading on very thin ice, and taking a risk she'd never forgive herself for if it went wrong, but something about the thousand-yard stare in the Farnallax's eyes made her feel like it didn't want to shoot anyone any more than she did. What's more, it was obviously wounded--deep purple blood flowed down its flank and dripped like oil into the dirt.
"You're injured." She pitched her voice to a soothing purr, trying to put the many other possible outcomes of this situation out of her mind. "We have medical facilities, on our ship. We can take you there right now, if you'll just--"
The Farnallax's eyes swivelled wildly in his sockets, as if he was about to lose consciousness. His limbs began to sag with the weight of all those firearms until he finally dropped them one by one, and his four knees buckled. Rose rushed forward as River re-holstered her guns. The reluctant warrior opened his mouth to speak but no noise came out.
"It's all right, we've got you," Rose said, supporting his head in her lap.
River punched a command into her vortex manipulator and the trio was gone in a flash of energy, ported directly to the medical bay on their orbiting cruiser.
"We really need to talk about your Florence Nightingale complex," River said, but not unkindly. "Can you hear me?" She had turned to the Farnallax, crumpled on the floor in the centre of the sterile white room. "What's your name?"
"We are called Twelfth in Cohort Etnn," he said weakly, his voice high and wavering. "We have to tell you--" His voice broke off into laboured wheezing.
River pulled out a tray of prepared first aid supplies appropriate to the Farnallax species class and approached. "Twelfth in Cohort Etnn, I'd just like to sort your wounds out first. Is that all right?"
"We'll talk later," Rose added, retrieving a few plasters for their own various cuts and scrapes. "You're safe now."
Twelfth in Cohort Etnn answered only in a low keening sound.
On the bridge of their cruiser, River slumped into the seat next to Rose.
"How's our friend doing?" Rose asked.
"Sedated."
"Did you get any more information out of him?"
"Still too weak. It may be nothing,just a standard get-us-out-of-here plea for friends and family." She'd been unlacing her boots while she spoke and finally kicked them off. "My feet aren't half killing me."
"Give 'em here," Rose said, smiling and flexing her fingers. "Let me show you a little something I picked up on Opera. No one does a foot massage like a species with twenty feet, I can tell you."
"I know," River yawned, hoisting one foot gingerly into Rose's lap. "I've been."
The various sensors and auto-pilots blinked and let out the occasional informative beep, but otherwise the ship was quiet. A map showed their progress, moving at sublight speed away from the Farn system and back to the nearest Agency safe-moon, where they could continue to care for their charge as well as question him in secure surroundings.
"You think Gessup's going to be on duty when we get there?" Rose asked, applying pressure to River's Achilles tendon.
Breaking out into a spontaneous laugh, River brought a hand to her forehead. "Does the man not know how to knock? I think those big, meaty paws of his must be holograms. It's the only explanation! Right," River pointed to the display. "We're about to leave the Farn system. I should probably boot up the deepspace drives." She stretched her legs and wiggled her toes before easing herself out of the chair with a sigh.
"No, I'll go--"
Alarm bells sang out from several areas of the bridge and screens that had been dead flickered to life.
Rose jumped out of her own chair and ran to the controls. "Are we under attack? I don't see anything. Did we download that cloaking scan update?" She waited a quick beat and when there was no reply, turned around to see the other woman staring mutely at one of the video screens, hands covering the horrified 'o' of her mouth.
A black-and-white image of the medical bay flickered, a timestamp in the bottom corner stupidly ticking away the seconds as the Twelfth in Cohort Etnn lay on the floor, a small energy weapon in one hand and a widening pool of inky blood surrounding him. The life-support readings were all flatlined.
"Oh, god."
She saw River set her jaw and that familiar steeliness again came into her eyes. Rose had once thought River to be coldly (albeit intriguingly) detached, but had later come to know that this reserve was deployed as a force of her formidable will, strategically and selectively. In a way, Rose envied and admired this ability, but also feared it. One day, she thought, it would be turned on her, and it would break her heart.
The footage rewound, jagged lines of static obscuring the moment when this being they had taken into their care took its own life. River hit another button and the screen reassembled the image of the Twelfth in Cohort Etnn jolting awake as if stung, and sitting bolt upright in the bed they'd prepared for him.
His eyes were clear, and Rose realised that the far-away stare that he'd worn the entire time they'd been conversing with him was not his normal expression. Now he was focused, intelligent, and terrified. He looked around the medical bay as if seeing it for the first time, quickly located the surveillance camera and approached it.
"It's too late for us now," he said, looking directly through the lens. "Soon, all things will come to an end."
He held his head and moaned, not the far-away keening of before but a long, piercing wail of blackest anguish. "What have we done?" he cried, and then a small metal table was upended with a clatter, he had the gun in one of his hands and it was all over. The footage caught up to present time and stopped.
Rose felt empty. Her extremities tingled with the shock, but her mind was a blank. They had been up here flirting while that poor man was alone, frightened, desperate... it was too awful. She realised that River had taken her hand briefly but then dropped it.
"I need you to make arrangements for the proper funerary rites." Her voice was as blank as Rose felt.
"But why did he... I mean, you said he was sedated. And what did he mean about it being too late?"
"Just take care of it," River said in a voice so low as to be nearly inaudible.
"It's all my fault, we should have never--"
"That's an order, Tyler."
Rose pursed her lips to force a stop to this nervous babbling. "Right."
[ Part 2 ]