Post by Fitz Kreiner on Aug 5, 2010 18:56:47 GMT
The Ship.
“Are you a dog person?” Tom asked wrinkling his nose as the small dog shifted uncomfortably on his lap.
“I like all animals,” Jess replied, glancing over from the driving seat.
“Well, this one stinks,” Tom grimaced, as Sally looked up at him and licked his nose. “And so does its breath.”
“Why did the Doctor want us to take it?” Jess asked. “You said the address on its collar was Colesham, it’s been evacuated, right?”
“Yeah, well isn’t it obvious?” Tom asked, looking across at Jess as she shot him a look designed to make him tell her what she’d missed. “Sally the dog here has got her lead on, which means she was out being walked. Why would her owner have left her?”
“Go on,” Jess urged as she pulled on the wheel and brought the car to stop in the high street. “And where are we going?”
“I think the Doc thinks the owner is in the ship. Whether they’ve been abducted or not, I dunno,” Tom said, struggling to keep hold of both the dog and map.
“But he said that their air was poison,” Jess said.
“Which I think is worrying him,” Tom replied. “Second left and then first right; number seven we’re looking for. We could walk it.”
“He wants us to search the house, see if they got evacuated or just set off to walk the dog, doesn’t he?” Jess asked, sitting still and just looking at Tom.
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Tom muttered, struggling again with the dog and map.
“And how are we going to work that one out?”
“By what’s in the house,” Tom replied simply. “If they’ve only planned a short walk, then there will be stuff still about to suggest that. If they’ve been evacuated, even at short notice, there’ll some signs of rush packing, clothes missing and the likes.”
“All right then, Poirot,” Jess chuckled as she finally turned into the street. “Number seven, here we are.”
The two jumped out of the Yellow car, Tom having to almost fight to hold Sally back as she barked and tried to run towards the house.
“Well, we’re definitely at the right place,” Tom said, as Sally struggled at the lead as he walked up the path.
“And how do we get in without a key?” Jess asked as she watched Tom try the door to find it locked.
Pulling her coat around her, she shuddered in cold as Tom passed the dog lead to her. She watched as he gently pushed the bin back and peered underneath before starting to turn some of the stones by the door over and looking under them.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Hmm, no joy,” he muttered standing up and taking his hat off. “I had hoped to find a key, but this will have to do instead.”
“Your hat?” Jess asked shuddering again.
“Not quite,” Tom grinned.
Turning back to the door he placed the top of his hat on the door window pane. Bringing his right hand back, he balled it into a fist and punched into his hat. The window pane spider-webbed under the impact and Tom shook his fist before sucking on his knuckles.
“It always looks a lot easier in the films,” he said, grinning thinly at Jess, before hitting into his hat again, this time the glass broke.
“Hey, that’s breaking and entering,” Jess said as Sally yapped at her ankles.
“How else are we going to search?” Tom asked his face expectant as though what he were doing was normal. “And if the police ask, well; we’re concerned about someone.”
Tom returned his hat to his head as he reached in through the broken window pane and grasped for a key. He brought his arm out and dangled a set of keys before Jess.
“Obviously whoever it was wasn’t very safety conscious,” he said unlocking the door.
“And a bloke and lived alone,” Jess said, stepping over the threshold after Tom.
The house wasn’t tidy, yet neither was it a tip; some stacks of old news papers and junk mail sat on a nearby table, alongside a half drunk mug of coffee. Sally pulled at the lead, whimpering and gently pulling Jess into the kitchen. Obliging, Jess went with the dog, some dog food sat in a bowl under the kitchen table and there was washing up on the draining board and some sat in the sink in greasy water. It was then Jess noticed that the lights were on.
She let go of the lead as Sally scampered over to the food bowl. Walking back into the hall, she looked in the front room to find Tom. He was sat on the edge of the sofa flicking through sheaves of paper. She noticed the television was still on, flickering with no sound.
“Did you turn that on?” she asked Tom.
“No,” he said not looking up. “It’d been left on. I’m guessing there’s stuff in the kitchen as well hinting that this person had just popped out for a little while.”
“Washing up not done, food in the dog bowl,” Jess replied.
Tom finally looked up at Jess and she could see the sadness in his eyes. “Application for a job at a children’s hospital,” he said holding up a half filled out form. “Christopher Spinx, aged 24 years old. I think the Doctor may have been right, I think this poor chap has been captured.”
“So,” Jess said sitting on the arm of a chair and picking up the television remote and switching it off. “What do we do now then?”
“What else can we do?” Tom asked putting the papers back on the table. “Go back to the Doctor.”
“And the dog?”
“Hand it over to the police.”
*
The jets of steam and smoke were starting to increase in frequency as the Doctor and Lovatt explored the exterior of the ship. One time when the Doctor had looked closer at a ruptured conduit on the exterior, a jet of green smoke had billowed out into his face causing him to stagger back choking. He had waved away her concerns, pulling himself upright with his umbrella.
“That’s the second time I’ve been choked by leaking vapour today,” he had muttered between chokes.
“What do you think?” Lovatt asked after some time of silent exploration.
“Well,” he said, swinging the umbrella up and resting it on his shoulder. “That gas contained strong elements of hydrogen cyanide and dichloro-thiapentane unless I’m very much mistaken; very unpleasant.”
“Ok, I get hydrogen cyanide, but dichloro-what?” Lovatt asked.
“More commonly known as Mustard Gas,” the Doctor said looking at Lovatt. “Pure poison to any humanoid life form, but to our friends in there, it’s most probably pure nectar. But whether that was a waste vent or not, I’m not sure. It’s not constant, which is a good thing, otherwise we’d probably all need gas masks and which also suggests that there’s not a leak.”
“Ok, mustard gas is not good, I know that much,” Lovatt said. “Used it during the First World War didn’t they?”
“Hmm,” the Doctor muttered, nodding in agreement. “But this is a natural occurrence for their atmosphere. Most intriguing, I must say.”
“Why is it intriguing?” Lovatt asked.
“Because I can’t think of a planet with an atmosphere with such gaseous contents in the local vicinity,” the Doctor replied. “I wonder how far out from their home they are?”
“And why they’re venting gas into the air?” Lovatt postulated.
“Venting; of course!” the Doctor cried, turning to face Lovatt and gripping her by the shoulders. “You know what, Sergeant, sometimes I spend far too long looking at the bigger picture I completely miss what’s right in front of me.”
“What is it?” Lovatt asked.
“Why would someone normally vent gasses?” the Doctor asked.
“Erm, waste products?” Lovatt asked with a shrug. “Too much of it?”
“Possibly, possibly,” the Doctor replied, pacing a small patch of muddy ground before Lovatt whilst drumming his fingers against his lower lip in a rhythmic beat. “Something about that doesn’t ring true to me there though. Why would it emerge in small bursts like that? No, I don’t think it’s a waste gas, I think it may be something a bit more than that. I think it’s time we started to make our way back now.”
Lovatt started to make her way nervously back the way towards the Mobile HQ. There was something about the Doctor’s tone which made her nervous. A quick glance back along the length of the park told her just how far away they now where from the Mobile HQ and the rest of the troops.
“Ok, I think it’s time you told me exactly what’s going on,” she said, her hand drifting to the holster on her hip as she walked backwards, keeping an eye fixed on the ship. Something in the back of her mind was now screaming at her that it was trouble.
“I wish I knew myself, Allison,” the Doctor replied. “I just get the very strong feeling that we should be as far back as we can get.”
“You get that too, then?” Lovatt asked unclipping her holster and drawing her pistol. “Deep fear that something bad is gonna happen?”
“I wouldn’t say deep fear, I’ve felt worse, but then I’m a touch more resilient than most.”
Lovatt felt beads of water trickle down her forehead. It was when she moved to wipe them away she realised that the moisture had come from under her cap and not because of the rain.
“Well, whatever it is, it’s making me sweat a bit,” Lovatt said, feeling her palms slick with rain and sweat. “I think I’d prefer it if we ran instead of just walked back.”
“Does it bother you that much?” the Doctor asked, pausing and turning towards her.
“I think that it’s more than just that,” Lovatt said, nodding to the ship.
The Doctor turned to look where she was pointing. A hatch was opening in the side of the ship, wisps of murky green steam and smoke were curling up from the opening as it widened.
“Oh,” the Doctor said. “Maybe they’re popping out for a chat and a cup of tea.”
“What is it with you and your bloody tea?” Lovatt almost snapped turning back to the Doctor.
“Tea is calming, you should try some chamomile some time, although I don’t imagine the army does chamomile does it; just hot and sweet tea,” the Doctor trailed off as he started to walk back towards the ship. “More gaseous escape, I wonder why they are doing that.”
“Doctor,” Lovatt said, taking a step backwards.
“Yes, yes,” he said, waving his hand at her, “in a moment; this is fascinating.”
Lovatt pulled the radio from her pocket and raised it to her lips, her eyes not leaving the ship. “Greyhound three to Trap seven, come in trap seven,” she said into the handset. “I’m having some problems here, over.” She looked down as she was met by nothing but static. “Come in Trap seven.” There was still nothing but static coming from the radio. “Doctor, the radio isn’t working.”
The Doctor paused and then turned to face her. “Really?” he asked, sounding surprised.
Fumbling in one of the many pockets of his black velvet coat the Doctor pulled out a silver telescopic rod. Holding it up, he depressed a control with his thumb and the top of the device dipped slightly. Frowning, the Doctor released the control and shook the device beside his ear before tapping it against his other hand and trying the control again.
“Even the sonic screwdriver isn’t working,” he muttered, tapping the tool against his chin. “There must some kind of blanket dampening field around here. I wonder if it’s purposeful or a side effect of our friends over there.”
“I really think it’s time we got back,” Lovatt said, reaching out and gripping the Doctors sleeve.
“Yes,” he agreed, slipping the sonic screwdriver back into his pocket, his eyes fixed on the open hatch in the side of the ship. “I rather think you’re right.”
Lovatt looked back towards the ship. She was sure that she could make out some shadowy shapes moving in the gas, just inside the hatch. Keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the hatch, she slowly withdrew her pistol. Increasing her pace backwards, she slipped the safety catch off and stepped between the Doctor and the ship.
“Keep behind me, Doctor,” she said, raising the gun towards the hatch.
In a swift movement, the Doctor reached around Lovatt and lifted the gun from her grasp and removed the magazine before passing it her back. “I’m not sure that would be a good idea, Allison,” he said before taking her other hand. “Now; run!”
With no choice, Lovatt found herself running alongside the Doctor. The Time Lord was quick on his feet and was easily faster than Lovatt as she found herself almost tripping over the ground trying to keep up. In what seemed like no time they had reached the children’s play area and were weaving through the swings and slides towards the Mobile HQ. Breaking the Doctor’s hold on her hand, Lovatt leaned heavily on the side of the trailer as she caught her breath.
“Will, I think you’d better get out here,” the Doctor shouted into the HQ before nimbly climbing to the top of the large slide and pulling a compact pair of binoculars out of a pocket. He was still stood with them glued to his eyes when Morris emerged minutes later.
“Sergeant,” he said, acknowledging Lovatt before looking over to the Time Lord. “What is it Doctor?”
The Doctor turned and pocketed the binoculars before skipping lightly down the ladder to the slide. “Will,” he said gripping the soldiers shoulder. “Tell me, have you had any disruption of your equipment up here?”
“A few minor disturbances, nothing major though,” Morris replied. “What is it, Doctor, and no speaking in riddles.”
Reaching into his pocket, the Doctor pulled out his binoculars and passed them over to Morris. “Maybe you want to take a look down at the ship,” he said, pointing towards one area. “And if I were you, I’d pay particular attention to the hatchway there where greenish gas is coming from.”
Morris shot a glance from the corner of his eye at the Doctor as he took the binoculars from him.
“You might find a better view from the top of the slide,” the Doctor smiled as if he was one child proudly explaining a new toy to another.
With three quick steps, Morris ascended the ladder and looked through the binoculars to where the Doctor had pointed; beginning to mass outside the open hatchway were five alien figures. Morris looked back down at the Doctor who was smiling up at him, before looking back down to the ship. There were now six figures stood outside.
“What are they?” he asked.
“No idea,” the Doctor smiled back. “But I suggest that we try to talk to them to find out, rather than going in all gung ho with all guns blazing, don’t you think?”
“Doctor,” Morris warned, “I’m not going to get drawn into another argument with you.”
“Good,” the Doctor said, taking the binoculars back, “because we are going to try to talk to them first.” Flashing another smile at Morris, the Doctor turned and headed back into the Mobile HQ.
Sighing, Morris jumped down from the slide and ran after the Doctor, shouting out to him. He’d just got to the corner of the HQ when the Doctor appeared back round the corner, almost colliding with him.
“Ah, Will, just the chap,” he said, slipping his arm round Morris’s shoulder, not seeming to notice they’d nearly collided. “I’d like you, Allison and a couple of your chaps to accompany me. A nice little delegation to meet theirs, don’t you think?”
“Pearson, Smith, with us,” Morris called over to two of the soldiers as he ducked from under the Doctors arm. “Lovatt, you too.”
“Now then,” the Doctor said over his shoulder to the group behind him, “Pistols in holsters, all rifles to be held down. I don’t want anyone to provoke anyone.”
“Do they know that, though?” Lovatt said looking down at the massing aliens. They were black shapes from this distance, although she could tell that they were certainly not humanoid.
“Oh, I’m sure they’re perfectly amicable,” the Doctor said, flashing a smile over his shoulder at her.
“I take it you saw those things they were holding when you were looking at them,” Morris said, “because to me, they looked a lot like weapons.”
“Look in a mirror, Will,” the Doctor said. “You are a soldier, and I would imagine that if you were stepping out onto an alien world you would have your weapon to hand in case the natives were hostile. It’s a habit that has followed your species wherever you went and wherever you will go.”
“Then, Doctor,” Morris almost snapped, “why are you bringing us with you if you think we’re so violent? Why are you assisting us?”
“When did I ever say I was assisting you, Will?” the Doctor said, spinning and fixing Morris with a steely stare. “And besides, you’re the only humans around here, and you are leading them, it would be rude not to welcome them, wouldn’t it? Now, what are those things your chaps have set up around the ship?”
“Floodlights and cameras,” Lovatt said, as if it were obvious.
“And?” the Doctor asked, turning to look at her so that he was now walking backwards.
“And electrical barriers,” Lovatt said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in the Doctor’s stare.
“They can be turned off immediately,” the Doctor replied flatly, spinning back round to face the ship.
“Why?” Morris asked. “It’s precautionary. Just like you’re making out their carrying guns is. You can’t have it both ways.”
The Doctor paused, “Will,” he started.
The rest of his sentence died in his mouth as chaos descended.