Post by Fitz Kreiner on Jun 1, 2009 22:08:12 GMT
The look on the Doctor’s face fell even further as the news sunk in. Lovatt was now looking rather uncomfortable stood in the doorway as she shuffled her feet. The Doctor opened his mouth to comment, but was beaten to it by Morris.
“It’s been stolen? What the bloody hell are you playing at Sergeant, where were the guards?” He bellowed.
“My guess is they’re dead,” Toms voice caught Morris’s attention as the Captain whirled round to face him.
“If it wasn’t for your stupidity at getting caught, then we probably wouldn’t have this facsimile problem.” Morris shouted at the young Time Lord, attracting looks from Jess and the Doctor.
“How dare-?”
Jess began to step forward, getting cut off as the Doctor laid a hand on her shoulder and swiftly stepped between Tom and Morris. The young Time Lord was glaring at Morris, a look that seemed more the just anger, his fists balled at his sides. Placing a hand out onto his other companions shoulder, the Doctor looked at Morris; his expression was also set in one of extreme annoyance.
“If it wasn’t Tom, it would have been someone else; it’s the Master’s way.” He said, his look causing Morris to back down. “It could easily have been you if he’d wished it, Will, and don’t forget that. I can imagine there was very little that Tom could have done about it. I imagine that Tom meant that it was the other facsimile that is responsible for the theft. No wonder the Master didn’t bother about retrieving his TARDIS, he would have had the facsimile do it for him.”
Silently, Tom nodded in confirmation, taking a deep breath and relaxing his hands. “It’ll be the chap who came with us to the factory. And if not, then that means the Master has more spies about here.”
Morris shook his head, as though to clear it, and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it,” he muttered.
“It’s quite alright, Will,” the Doctor said cheerily, “Simple transference. You’re angry at the Master, but he’s not here so you shout at us.”
“Thank you, Doctor Freud.” Jess muttered softly, shivering. Her wet clothes were starting to get uncomfortable.
“What do you suggest, Doctor?” Morris asked, straightening himself up.
The Doctor paused, placing his hands together and resting his index fingers on his bottom lip and stared at the shattered CD player. “I think, Will,” he started before trailing off into silence.
Morris stared at the Doctor for several seconds. The Time Lord was now frozen on the spot staring at the broken remains of the device he’d constructed, seemingly unaware of everything else in the room. Morris glanced round the Doctor to Jess and Tom. They were also looking at each other looking rather bemused.
“Right,” the Doctor said, suddenly springing to life and making everyone else in the room jump, “the Master’s over confidence is his weakness. He will think he’s got the upper hand now that he has his TARDIS back, and after losing both Jess and Tom as prisoners, I can imagine he will be stepping up his plans. Now, we know that he now has high ranking facsimiles in places of power, but they need to be there for a reason, so he’s going to be planning something else.”
“So?” Jess urged.
The Doctor spun and took a step towards Morris and Lovatt. “Will, you and your chaps need to rest up. I imagine you’ve paper work and reports and the likes. I also want you to alert as high up as you’re able and willing to go, taking these names into consideration.” The Doctor reached out and took the list of names from Jess and passed it over to Morris.
“And what about us?” Jess asked, indicating to herself and Tom.
“Ah yes,” the Doctor smiled turning back to them. “You’ve both done really well, but I think you could both do with a bit of a freshening up and change of clothes. Then, this afternoon, after you’ve had a rest and meal, I think we’ll be taking a little trip out to see the Master.”
The smiles dropped from both Jess and Tom’s faces as the Doctor reached the end of his sentence and they turned to look at each other.
“Erm, excuse me, I thought you just said we’d go and see the Master?” Tom interjected.
“Quite possibly,” the Doctor replied cheerily, turning back to the shattered device and tapping his lip again. “It depends on what Captain Morris and his chaps turn up. Or if anything else springs up.”
Morris looked round as the Doctor looked up at him. Taking the hint, Morris nodded and turned round. Looking at Lovatt, the Sergeant nodded and turned off down the corridor.
“I’ll be in my office when you need me, Doctor.” He said before following Lovatt down the corridor.
Watching him leave, Jess looked down at her sodden clothes. The wet white cotton of her shirt was sticking to her skin and she shivered again. The cold water was chilling her. Glancing up at Tom, she saw his hair was plastered to his head, a droplet of water hanging comically from the end of his nose. The cold water didn’t seem to faze him, even as it mingled with the gash on his temple making the blood streak down the side of his face. How he could put up with things like that, she would never know. He always seemed to be getting himself into trouble and scrapes like that.
Jess was making her way to the door when a sudden thought stopped her as though she’d just walked into a brick wall.
“Wait,” she started looking from the Doctor to Tom, who both paused and fixed her with inquisitive looks. “It’s just hit me; Tom, I mean the other Tom, the facsimile, was working on the fuse boxes all night. He was a facsimile working for the Master, why would he do that?”
“What do you mean?” the Doctor asked, whirling round so he was facing her directly.
“Well, when we had all the troubles, someone destroyed the operations room, the device thing that brought the TARDIS here and smashed the fuse box.” Jess explained.
“Hmm,” the Doctor mused. “Well, the space/time telegraph recall device is no great loss.”
Jess and Tom gave each other confused glances as the Doctor trailed off, staring just above Jess’s head.
“Well,” Tom shrugged, breaking the silence, “he, or it, could have been rigging something so that the wires could come to life. I dunno, like a receiver for the Nestene energy?”
“Aha! Brilliant!” The Doctor cried out, grabbing Tom by the shoulders and grinning. “Of course, so simple; the Master drops a couple of spies in to report back to him and cause a bit of sabotage, pulls me and most of the UNIT forces out and the two facsimiles remain.”
Jess’s eyes widened as she caught on. “And the Tom facsimile was the first one at the scene when the space/time thingy was destroyed. I was here and Corporal Loding was in the operations room. Then that was attacked.”
“Yes, yes brilliant.” The Doctor grinned stepping back into the middle of the room. “The Master has played us all well. Luring myself and most of UNIT to the fake factory, the red herring, and then using two strategically placed facsimile’s to severely disrupt things at this end. Luring Corporal Loding out of the operations room with the attack on the space/time telegraph, thus stopping me being called back to earth in the near future, stopping all communications and then cutting the power allowing for whatever the second facsimile did in the cellar to be done. You can’t deny that he’s planned it all out superbly.”
“You almost sound like you admire the maniac.” Tom said, sounding bemused slightly.
“Admire; yes, respect; yes.” The Doctor agreed nodding his head and letting droplets of water drip off his curls. “But I wouldn’t underestimate him by calling him a maniac. He’s a dangerously clever man if you remember?” Both Jess and Tom nodded silently as the Doctor crossed to the corner of the room and picked up the wires which had held Jess to the chair. “But at the moment, I’m a bit more concerned about what the facsimiles have done around here.”
“What about me grabbing a change of clothes from the TARDIS, similar to what my facsimile was wearing and going back to the Master?” Tom suggested. “I could smuggle a microphone or radio or something in with me, and let you know what he’s up to?”
“A good idea,” The Doctor smiled, “but too dangerous. The Master is bound to be on the alert, especially if he knows that you’ve escaped. And besides, the facsimile no doubt already knew what the Master wanted to know and if it started questioning him, he’d become suspicious.” Pausing, the Doctor spun to Jess. “How long was the facsimile of Tom down in the cellar?”
“All night as far as I know,” Jess replied. “But he would only have been able to work with what he was given surely?”
“I don’t know.” The Doctor replied, weighing the wires in one hand, thoughtfully tapping his lip with the other. “It’s possible-”
Stopping, the Doctor turned and dashed from the lab, his coat tails flapping in his wake. His departure attracted bemused looks from both Jess and Tom who looked at each other before making to follow the Doctor. As they reached the door, the Doctor reappeared and all three reeled back slightly to avoid the collision.
“I think it’s best if I deal with this one,” the Doctor said, his eyes full of the same seriousness they held before he left to go to the Rutilus Allec factory. “You two pop back to the TARDIS, have a shower, change and grab a bite to eat. I’m going to need you both at your best soon”
Flashing one last grin, the Doctor turned and disappeared out of the door leaving Jess and Tom exchanging confused glances again. Looking out of the door, Jess saw the Doctor disappear round a corner, his coat tails flailing in his wake. A further shiver running through her reminded Jess of the cold and wet state she was in.
“Gods, I’ll bet I look one helluva mess.” She muttered.
“For someone who’s had no sleep, been soaked to the skin, escaped a criminal mastermind and then nearly killed by a living dummy, you look fine.” Tom smiled, putting his arm around her.
Jess squirmed slightly as the cold wet sleeve of Toms boiler suit caused the sodden white cotton of her shirt to stick to her skin again. Smiling up at Tom, Jess made a point of nestling her head into the crook of his arm, giggling when she heard him groan as her wet hair made contact with his cheek.
Captain William Morris sat down at his desk and stretched out, groaning as he did so. It had been a long day, and he still had a mountain of paper work that he had to do before he got some rest. Well, technically he didn’t have to do it, but he would rather get it done now while the details were fresh in his mind. Sergeant Lovatt had accepted the task of informing families about the deaths that they had suffered. He was reluctant to give her the job initially, but her insistence finally persuaded him. Sharing the job load would make it easier and quicker, she had insisted. She was right.
Morris ran his hands through his ginger hair as he looked at the death release forms before him. He had to apply to Geneva on behalf of the families so that they could have the bodies of their dead back. It was one thing that he never got used to with the army. He knew that sometimes Geneva would want to keep the bodies if they were killed by aliens, in case there was a risk of an alien plague breaking out and a global pandemic. The job never got any easier. He could hear Lovatt on the phone already. It was unfeasible for her to visit every single family, so calls were made to the local army barracks for them to send someone.
A sudden thought struck Morris; the facsimile’s that the Doctor had mentioned. One had been dealt with by Rowan, after his somewhat convenient escape from the Masters base of operations. Well, it had been either convenient or just one hell of a case of serendipity that he arrived back at that time. Still, who better to judge time than a Time Lord?
Shaking his head, Morris cleared himself of the train of thought. Of course the Doctor and his friends were here to help, and they had, many times throughout the Doctors lives and for more years than he had been alive. He shook his head again; he was using these trains of thought to procrastinate from the somewhat arduous task that sat before him.
He had returned silently to his work, nearly completing the second form when there was a furious rapping at his door. He didn’t even have the time to look up and tell whomever it was to enter as the door was flung open and the Doctor burst in.
“Ah, good, you’re in Will,” he said, pausing just in the door frame. “I wonder if you’d care to accompany me to the cellar. We could have an issue down there.”
Morris glanced down at the form before him. “Ok, let me just-” he looked up and paused; the Doctor had gone.
Morris sighed; would these things never end? Jumping to his feet, he grabbed his pistol from where he’d placed it on the desk and sprinted after the Doctor. He eventually caught him up in the reception area. The receptionist was standing from her desk in the foyer looking bemused at the Time Lords strange behaviour. The Doctor was stood, lightly bouncing on the balls of his feet, pointing his finger at each corridor and door before him reciting a playground rhyme, trying to decide which route to take. Stepping up to him, Morris took the decision for him.
“This way, Doctor,” he said, leading his way down the corridor. “So what’s so important that it can’t wait ‘til later?”
“There was a facsimile down in the cellar all night supposedly repairing the fuse box. I somehow doubt that he was.” The Doctor replied.
“The lights are on, the phones and electrics are working,” Morris countered. “Seems to me like he did.”
The Doctor held up a long finger and wagged it as if administering a scolding. “That’s not the point Will. That was probably done to lull everyone into a false sense of security. It’s more likely there was an ulterior motive for his being down there all night, and we really should find out what it was up to.”
Morris nodded, there was a very strong probability that the Doctor was right. Stopping by the cellar door, Morris keyed in the access code only for the red diode to remain a steady red. Frowning, he tried the code again, and again got no response.
“There a problem, Will?” the Doctor asked, looking down at the pad.
“My access code doesn’t seem to be working.” Morris replied, scratching his head confused.
“Allow me,” the Doctor grinned, pulling his sonic screwdriver from his pocket and activated it beside the keypad. A small burst of sparks shot out and the door swung open. “It’s a knack,” the Time Lord winked before stepping through the door.
Shrugging to himself, Morris followed, reaching out to flick on the lights. Something made him stop; there was a blue glow coming from the cellar below, silhouetting the Doctor. There was something about the glow that unnerved him and made him reach for the light. Morris felt himself relax as the bright white light flooded the cellar. Reaching the bottom of the steps, he found the Doctor looking at a bizarre plastic construct around the fuse box. There was a small sphere in the middle which supplied the blue glow.
“What is it?” He asked.
“I’ve no idea,” the Doctor replied, “but the facsimile put it there, so we can only assume that its purpose is deadly.”
“It’s been stolen? What the bloody hell are you playing at Sergeant, where were the guards?” He bellowed.
“My guess is they’re dead,” Toms voice caught Morris’s attention as the Captain whirled round to face him.
“If it wasn’t for your stupidity at getting caught, then we probably wouldn’t have this facsimile problem.” Morris shouted at the young Time Lord, attracting looks from Jess and the Doctor.
“How dare-?”
Jess began to step forward, getting cut off as the Doctor laid a hand on her shoulder and swiftly stepped between Tom and Morris. The young Time Lord was glaring at Morris, a look that seemed more the just anger, his fists balled at his sides. Placing a hand out onto his other companions shoulder, the Doctor looked at Morris; his expression was also set in one of extreme annoyance.
“If it wasn’t Tom, it would have been someone else; it’s the Master’s way.” He said, his look causing Morris to back down. “It could easily have been you if he’d wished it, Will, and don’t forget that. I can imagine there was very little that Tom could have done about it. I imagine that Tom meant that it was the other facsimile that is responsible for the theft. No wonder the Master didn’t bother about retrieving his TARDIS, he would have had the facsimile do it for him.”
Silently, Tom nodded in confirmation, taking a deep breath and relaxing his hands. “It’ll be the chap who came with us to the factory. And if not, then that means the Master has more spies about here.”
Morris shook his head, as though to clear it, and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it,” he muttered.
“It’s quite alright, Will,” the Doctor said cheerily, “Simple transference. You’re angry at the Master, but he’s not here so you shout at us.”
“Thank you, Doctor Freud.” Jess muttered softly, shivering. Her wet clothes were starting to get uncomfortable.
“What do you suggest, Doctor?” Morris asked, straightening himself up.
The Doctor paused, placing his hands together and resting his index fingers on his bottom lip and stared at the shattered CD player. “I think, Will,” he started before trailing off into silence.
Morris stared at the Doctor for several seconds. The Time Lord was now frozen on the spot staring at the broken remains of the device he’d constructed, seemingly unaware of everything else in the room. Morris glanced round the Doctor to Jess and Tom. They were also looking at each other looking rather bemused.
“Right,” the Doctor said, suddenly springing to life and making everyone else in the room jump, “the Master’s over confidence is his weakness. He will think he’s got the upper hand now that he has his TARDIS back, and after losing both Jess and Tom as prisoners, I can imagine he will be stepping up his plans. Now, we know that he now has high ranking facsimiles in places of power, but they need to be there for a reason, so he’s going to be planning something else.”
“So?” Jess urged.
The Doctor spun and took a step towards Morris and Lovatt. “Will, you and your chaps need to rest up. I imagine you’ve paper work and reports and the likes. I also want you to alert as high up as you’re able and willing to go, taking these names into consideration.” The Doctor reached out and took the list of names from Jess and passed it over to Morris.
“And what about us?” Jess asked, indicating to herself and Tom.
“Ah yes,” the Doctor smiled turning back to them. “You’ve both done really well, but I think you could both do with a bit of a freshening up and change of clothes. Then, this afternoon, after you’ve had a rest and meal, I think we’ll be taking a little trip out to see the Master.”
The smiles dropped from both Jess and Tom’s faces as the Doctor reached the end of his sentence and they turned to look at each other.
“Erm, excuse me, I thought you just said we’d go and see the Master?” Tom interjected.
“Quite possibly,” the Doctor replied cheerily, turning back to the shattered device and tapping his lip again. “It depends on what Captain Morris and his chaps turn up. Or if anything else springs up.”
Morris looked round as the Doctor looked up at him. Taking the hint, Morris nodded and turned round. Looking at Lovatt, the Sergeant nodded and turned off down the corridor.
“I’ll be in my office when you need me, Doctor.” He said before following Lovatt down the corridor.
Watching him leave, Jess looked down at her sodden clothes. The wet white cotton of her shirt was sticking to her skin and she shivered again. The cold water was chilling her. Glancing up at Tom, she saw his hair was plastered to his head, a droplet of water hanging comically from the end of his nose. The cold water didn’t seem to faze him, even as it mingled with the gash on his temple making the blood streak down the side of his face. How he could put up with things like that, she would never know. He always seemed to be getting himself into trouble and scrapes like that.
Jess was making her way to the door when a sudden thought stopped her as though she’d just walked into a brick wall.
“Wait,” she started looking from the Doctor to Tom, who both paused and fixed her with inquisitive looks. “It’s just hit me; Tom, I mean the other Tom, the facsimile, was working on the fuse boxes all night. He was a facsimile working for the Master, why would he do that?”
“What do you mean?” the Doctor asked, whirling round so he was facing her directly.
“Well, when we had all the troubles, someone destroyed the operations room, the device thing that brought the TARDIS here and smashed the fuse box.” Jess explained.
“Hmm,” the Doctor mused. “Well, the space/time telegraph recall device is no great loss.”
Jess and Tom gave each other confused glances as the Doctor trailed off, staring just above Jess’s head.
“Well,” Tom shrugged, breaking the silence, “he, or it, could have been rigging something so that the wires could come to life. I dunno, like a receiver for the Nestene energy?”
“Aha! Brilliant!” The Doctor cried out, grabbing Tom by the shoulders and grinning. “Of course, so simple; the Master drops a couple of spies in to report back to him and cause a bit of sabotage, pulls me and most of the UNIT forces out and the two facsimiles remain.”
Jess’s eyes widened as she caught on. “And the Tom facsimile was the first one at the scene when the space/time thingy was destroyed. I was here and Corporal Loding was in the operations room. Then that was attacked.”
“Yes, yes brilliant.” The Doctor grinned stepping back into the middle of the room. “The Master has played us all well. Luring myself and most of UNIT to the fake factory, the red herring, and then using two strategically placed facsimile’s to severely disrupt things at this end. Luring Corporal Loding out of the operations room with the attack on the space/time telegraph, thus stopping me being called back to earth in the near future, stopping all communications and then cutting the power allowing for whatever the second facsimile did in the cellar to be done. You can’t deny that he’s planned it all out superbly.”
“You almost sound like you admire the maniac.” Tom said, sounding bemused slightly.
“Admire; yes, respect; yes.” The Doctor agreed nodding his head and letting droplets of water drip off his curls. “But I wouldn’t underestimate him by calling him a maniac. He’s a dangerously clever man if you remember?” Both Jess and Tom nodded silently as the Doctor crossed to the corner of the room and picked up the wires which had held Jess to the chair. “But at the moment, I’m a bit more concerned about what the facsimiles have done around here.”
“What about me grabbing a change of clothes from the TARDIS, similar to what my facsimile was wearing and going back to the Master?” Tom suggested. “I could smuggle a microphone or radio or something in with me, and let you know what he’s up to?”
“A good idea,” The Doctor smiled, “but too dangerous. The Master is bound to be on the alert, especially if he knows that you’ve escaped. And besides, the facsimile no doubt already knew what the Master wanted to know and if it started questioning him, he’d become suspicious.” Pausing, the Doctor spun to Jess. “How long was the facsimile of Tom down in the cellar?”
“All night as far as I know,” Jess replied. “But he would only have been able to work with what he was given surely?”
“I don’t know.” The Doctor replied, weighing the wires in one hand, thoughtfully tapping his lip with the other. “It’s possible-”
Stopping, the Doctor turned and dashed from the lab, his coat tails flapping in his wake. His departure attracted bemused looks from both Jess and Tom who looked at each other before making to follow the Doctor. As they reached the door, the Doctor reappeared and all three reeled back slightly to avoid the collision.
“I think it’s best if I deal with this one,” the Doctor said, his eyes full of the same seriousness they held before he left to go to the Rutilus Allec factory. “You two pop back to the TARDIS, have a shower, change and grab a bite to eat. I’m going to need you both at your best soon”
Flashing one last grin, the Doctor turned and disappeared out of the door leaving Jess and Tom exchanging confused glances again. Looking out of the door, Jess saw the Doctor disappear round a corner, his coat tails flailing in his wake. A further shiver running through her reminded Jess of the cold and wet state she was in.
“Gods, I’ll bet I look one helluva mess.” She muttered.
“For someone who’s had no sleep, been soaked to the skin, escaped a criminal mastermind and then nearly killed by a living dummy, you look fine.” Tom smiled, putting his arm around her.
Jess squirmed slightly as the cold wet sleeve of Toms boiler suit caused the sodden white cotton of her shirt to stick to her skin again. Smiling up at Tom, Jess made a point of nestling her head into the crook of his arm, giggling when she heard him groan as her wet hair made contact with his cheek.
*
Captain William Morris sat down at his desk and stretched out, groaning as he did so. It had been a long day, and he still had a mountain of paper work that he had to do before he got some rest. Well, technically he didn’t have to do it, but he would rather get it done now while the details were fresh in his mind. Sergeant Lovatt had accepted the task of informing families about the deaths that they had suffered. He was reluctant to give her the job initially, but her insistence finally persuaded him. Sharing the job load would make it easier and quicker, she had insisted. She was right.
Morris ran his hands through his ginger hair as he looked at the death release forms before him. He had to apply to Geneva on behalf of the families so that they could have the bodies of their dead back. It was one thing that he never got used to with the army. He knew that sometimes Geneva would want to keep the bodies if they were killed by aliens, in case there was a risk of an alien plague breaking out and a global pandemic. The job never got any easier. He could hear Lovatt on the phone already. It was unfeasible for her to visit every single family, so calls were made to the local army barracks for them to send someone.
A sudden thought struck Morris; the facsimile’s that the Doctor had mentioned. One had been dealt with by Rowan, after his somewhat convenient escape from the Masters base of operations. Well, it had been either convenient or just one hell of a case of serendipity that he arrived back at that time. Still, who better to judge time than a Time Lord?
Shaking his head, Morris cleared himself of the train of thought. Of course the Doctor and his friends were here to help, and they had, many times throughout the Doctors lives and for more years than he had been alive. He shook his head again; he was using these trains of thought to procrastinate from the somewhat arduous task that sat before him.
He had returned silently to his work, nearly completing the second form when there was a furious rapping at his door. He didn’t even have the time to look up and tell whomever it was to enter as the door was flung open and the Doctor burst in.
“Ah, good, you’re in Will,” he said, pausing just in the door frame. “I wonder if you’d care to accompany me to the cellar. We could have an issue down there.”
Morris glanced down at the form before him. “Ok, let me just-” he looked up and paused; the Doctor had gone.
Morris sighed; would these things never end? Jumping to his feet, he grabbed his pistol from where he’d placed it on the desk and sprinted after the Doctor. He eventually caught him up in the reception area. The receptionist was standing from her desk in the foyer looking bemused at the Time Lords strange behaviour. The Doctor was stood, lightly bouncing on the balls of his feet, pointing his finger at each corridor and door before him reciting a playground rhyme, trying to decide which route to take. Stepping up to him, Morris took the decision for him.
“This way, Doctor,” he said, leading his way down the corridor. “So what’s so important that it can’t wait ‘til later?”
“There was a facsimile down in the cellar all night supposedly repairing the fuse box. I somehow doubt that he was.” The Doctor replied.
“The lights are on, the phones and electrics are working,” Morris countered. “Seems to me like he did.”
The Doctor held up a long finger and wagged it as if administering a scolding. “That’s not the point Will. That was probably done to lull everyone into a false sense of security. It’s more likely there was an ulterior motive for his being down there all night, and we really should find out what it was up to.”
Morris nodded, there was a very strong probability that the Doctor was right. Stopping by the cellar door, Morris keyed in the access code only for the red diode to remain a steady red. Frowning, he tried the code again, and again got no response.
“There a problem, Will?” the Doctor asked, looking down at the pad.
“My access code doesn’t seem to be working.” Morris replied, scratching his head confused.
“Allow me,” the Doctor grinned, pulling his sonic screwdriver from his pocket and activated it beside the keypad. A small burst of sparks shot out and the door swung open. “It’s a knack,” the Time Lord winked before stepping through the door.
Shrugging to himself, Morris followed, reaching out to flick on the lights. Something made him stop; there was a blue glow coming from the cellar below, silhouetting the Doctor. There was something about the glow that unnerved him and made him reach for the light. Morris felt himself relax as the bright white light flooded the cellar. Reaching the bottom of the steps, he found the Doctor looking at a bizarre plastic construct around the fuse box. There was a small sphere in the middle which supplied the blue glow.
“What is it?” He asked.
“I’ve no idea,” the Doctor replied, “but the facsimile put it there, so we can only assume that its purpose is deadly.”