34
CONDITION RED
Copyright Neil Davies 2017
The day began with a headache and ended with a near death experience, so just another shift on the National Health Service.
Martha knew those last 3 shots at Tom's birthday party were a mistake and now she was paying for them – big time, her skull was pounding as she reached work.
Most annoying of all was seeing Tom bright eyed and bushy tailed as he and 3 others pushed a gurney towards ICU, no hint of bleary eyes, banging head or nausea on his face she noted with rage and he'd put away far more than her; how did he do it?
The senior ICU doctor Compton scowled at her when she sighed with dismay, juniors were meant to suffer as part of their training – long hours, rubbish diet, mysterious illnesses – it was all part of the toughening up process.
"Come on Jones this is a bad one we're going to need all the help we can get," his tone lacked any sympathy.
"I just need to freshen up," she began but this was brushed aside.
"Later Jones this is the NHS not a health spa, vanity will have to wait." he said as Martha dragged her weary behind through some swing doors heading towards Intensive Care.
Tom threw her a grin so she pulled her tongue out at it, saw its awful colour and put it away quickly.
Compton was barking orders do this and do that, he named drugs and procedures and told someone to remove the blanket from the patient.
Martha stood there just watching sure her head was about to explode, she needed fluid, cold water on her face and some reassuring words of encouragement. Then Compton was glaring at her between two IV lines he was preparing, "Do you want to be a doctor or not?"
No Martha thought not in that moment she wanted to be anywhere but hospital patching up other people when she needed patching up herself. She wanted to be anything but in the health service, but she knew better than to say this. Burnside Trust had been her 27th application for a job and the only one to accept her if she blew it here she was out of the loop and might not get another chance.
Softening his expression a little Compton patted her on the arm, "It gets better, trust me."
Oh sure it does her expression replied, that's why you're on your second straight shift and will probably do a third. The latest virus had wiped out 20% of the staff including doctors and it hadn't finished yet. Why can't I ever get a virus she thought, a week off at this time of year would be bliss.
Glancing up a paramedic called Alice said, "Male, picked up about half an hour ago on the docks. His vital signs are weak and falling."
Compton grabbed the edge of the sheet but Alice seized his wrist anxiously, a look of pure terror in her eyes that woke Martha up faster that a slap.
"This is bad," she said "and weird."
Nodding the senior doctor pulled the sheet sure he'd seen every kind of injury and illness. Martha who hadn't steeled herself for the worst, but she was in no way prepared for what she saw and staggered back gripping her stomach. Oh my god what the hell was this?
The man was covered in sores and they were moving, each thick red and green ulcer was throbbing in and out, swelling and contracting, and out of each tendrils extended deep into the mottled flesh. The face was hardly recognisable as human so obscured was with a fibrous film of leaking, mucus-covered crust.
"Dear God," said Compton rearing back himself. "What is this some kind of chemical burn?"
There was no hint of anything chemical, just the all-pervading stench of decaying, necrotising flesh. Having never seen anything like it Martha drew a paper mask up over her nose and mouth.
"Where on the docks was he found," she asked thinking of all the warehouses and factories, maybe this guy had fallen in something or been splashed? Nobody answered her as every eye gazed at the appalling injuries especially the ulcers across the neck and upper chest these bulged even more than the others, blistering like small balloons.
"Step away from him," Martha cried sure she knew what was coming and retreating herself.
"Pull yourself together Jones," Compton snapped. "We need to get some lines in."
"No," shocking even herself by this bold defiance Martha pressed her back against the cold wall. "There isn't time, we can't help him." She pointed a trembling finger at the ulcers, couldn't anyone here see the obvious.
The ulcers popped all at once splashing everyone close by with a vile yellow gunk as thick as cement – Compton and the nursing staff where covered in it and within seconds all of them were screaming and clawing at their own flesh. Up above the bed a monitor began to buzz loudly, on its screen was a flat line, the patient had arrested.
Spinning around with a reddening, bulging face Compton uttered a terrible noise from deep inside his chest. Already ulcers were forming on his cheeks, lips and neck and from their heads drops of mucus could be seen. Alice picked herself up off the floor she had ulcers to forehead, left cheek and throat. A junior male nurse reached for Marsha with a hand covered in the foulest rash.
Coiling away from him to the door she shook her head, there was nothing she could do for these people they were all contaminated and seriously ill and she couldn't believe how quickly it had happened.
Then the heart monitor over the bed spiked once, twice, the dead patient was back to life his eyes were open and he was looking right at her. In his eyes she did not see pain, fear or sickness, which was what you'd expect from someone so ill, no it was rage, hatred and malicious intent rising off the pillow the head craned forwards to leak matter in all directions, the infected pus-covered lips parted and from the swollen black tongue came a sound that chilled Martha to the core.
It wasn't remotely human.
Get out of here now she told herself just run for your life, but held by morbid fascination she noticed that the patient was now linked to the infected medical staff by a complex web of gossamer thin strands, he hadn't just splashed them he had attached to them and through the yellow strands there was movement not out away from the patient but in towards him.
Martha blinked in horror he was drawing something out of his victims some vital essence.
As she watched the staff became weaker and weaker, their cheeks sucking in and eyes glazing over. One by one they sank to the floor and huddled there, bodies trembling and limbs curled. The patient sat up and took a deep breath, he still looked terrible but he no longer looked sick or weak.
Fresh and even larger ulcers formed to replace those that had burst and a thick crusty rash spread from his face down across his neck and chest to replace the once human flesh. Something occurred to Marsha and it was pretty wild, extremely far out for a medical student who wanted to be a doctor.
This man was turning into something else, something that wasn't remotely human!
Yes it was crazy but as she watched the transformation gathered pace, as the crusty rash extended down both arms to the hands turning these into swollen, almost armour-plated talons. With one of these he tore loose the IV drip and electronic pads then with a grunt he swung his legs to the floor and attempted to stand up.
Swaying precariously he sat down again as though dizzy, but the next attempt was more successful he remained on his feet and seemed to be getting stronger by the second, acclimatizing to his new environment. What the hell are you Martha wondered, and what could do this to a human being?
"Dr Compton?" She called to her mentor but he gave no hint he'd even heard her. She did think of going to him to try and drag him away but if she did that she might become infected herself, and then there was the patient and he looked none too friendly.
Unhappily she fled the room with tears running down both cheeks; people looked up alerted by her sobs and the table she crashed into. Only one of them came over to her Rob an ICU technician,
"Are you okay Martha," he asked. It took most of the willpower she had to stop herself from screaming hysterically.
"We have to seal ICU," she said.
Not understanding Rob looked from her to the isolation door, "Why, what's going on?"
He made to go in but grabbing him with both hands Martha held on, nobody could go into that awful place and see what she had seen.
"I'm initiating a code red," she blubbered aware she didn't have the rank that it took a qualified doctor or a senior nurse not some trainee.
"Don't be ridiculous," Rob scoffed. "It can't be that bad or someone would have pressed the panic button."
Now why hadn't she thought of that? Tearing loose Rob made for the door, determined to take a look himself.
The door crashed open before he reached it and stood before him leaking pus and various other noxious matters stood the patient.
Everyone froze in place including Rob, paralysed by the monstrous vision before them. Mouth opening to utter a curse Rob swallowed the words as a blister swelled on the sick man's chest to the size of a rugby ball and popped, splattering him with vile green muck. The next instant Rob began to tremble, his body going into spasms as his flesh enflamed, stretched and ulcerated.
"Get out," Martha told the others she did not have to repeat herself, as they fled she looked around for something to use as a weapon there was only one thing that made any sense. Picking it up she twisted the release wheel on top of the cylinder and turned the fire extinguisher towards the lumbering, leprous hulk.
Hands came out of nowhere to snatch the cylinder from her grip, not the monster but a slim man in a grey suit with a tangled mop of dark hair thrusting up from handsome, mischievous features.
"That won't work," he told Martha with a calm assurance she found both amusing and impressive. He sounded like he knew what he was talking about, like all of this made sense to him. Taking her by the elbow she guided her towards an exit that had been locked a few moments ago. Her gaze took in the tight fitting grey suit, cream shirt and red tie all of which seemed oddly old-fashioned and completely at odds with the blue trainers.
She was used to consultants being eccentric but this was something else.
"Who are you?"
Bundling her through the exit he closed the metal door, there was an odd buzz from the pen in his hand and the complex pneumatic locks clicked into place.
Lunging at the door the patient slapped both hands on its six-inch thick security glass creating two pools of foul yellow excrement.
"Must be one hell of an allergy," the odd man in the grey suit joked.
"His ulcers attack other people," Martha heard herself say and felt stupid at how unscientific this was.
"It's the alien matter consuming his body," the reply was incredible and impossible. Blinking in bewilderment she almost challenged this but the patient pressed his face onto the glass, opened his mouth and began to vomit some even worse gunk a thick blue foam that expanded and frothed disgustingly.
Rearing back the mysterious consultant took Martha with him. "He's trying to burn through."
How could you burn through glass with vomit? "How do you know that?"
"It's how his host escaped the prison pod."
Retreating to another locked door the man in grey opened this with his pen, squinting at the pen Martha suddenly realised it was nothing of the kind it was bizarre and exotic just like its owner.
"I don't know what you're talking about or who you are but we have to inform the authorities."
Calm as a cucumber the man smiled at her, "no time." He said easily and bundled her through into a medical storage room filled with large crates, boxes, plastic bags and on the far side in the corner a tall blue oblong shape with a lamp on top. Having never seen anything remotely like it in her life she was struck by how old-fashioned and out of place it was.
"We should be safe in here for a few moments," said the odd man as he sauntered over to some of the boxes to read their labels.
"We're trapped." Martha objected there was no other way out of the storeroom.
"Not really," said the pencil thin man, "We're safe in here for the time being, so we can have a breather and a bit of a catch up; I'm the Doctor," he said like this meant something the doctor not a doctor she noted.
"Oh are you," she shot back, "Am I meant to be impressed?"
He frowned at this his slim geeky but confident face darkening with disquiet, "You don't recognise me do you Martha," he said?
"Should I," she was sure she'd never me this odd ball before that she'd remember him, "You don't work here," she determined
.
"It's me Martha," he took her by the shoulders, "The Doctor from the tardis."
From the what, she had no idea what he was gabbling on about and frankly didn't care, a patient with some kind of massive unknown infection was on the loose in her hospital infecting other people at an alarming rate. A man who no longer seemed to be human who could melt glass with his vomit, blue vomit; who had blue vomit?
"I've no idea who you are or what a tardis is.
"But we travelled together, went to other times and other worlds."
He was a nutter an escapee from the psyche ward, "Yeah right," she said wondering how to humour him long enough to inject a sedative.
He frowned, "You really have no memory of that at all do you," he said tenderly touching her temples with his fingertips. She wanted to rear back and slap his hands away but she didn't, for some reason she liked his touch she trusted it and knew he wasn't just trying it on.
His fingers grew warm, so did her temples and inside her brain was this other warmth, this prickling electricity but she didn't fear it because it was helping her, clearing away the fog in her mind. Not just her hangover (which she was glad to see the back of) but other things, blockages, barriers, a deep amnesia.
There was this pop then an inrush of images bright and vivid, Shakespeare, macra, daleks and other things other worlds.
Oh my god the Doctor and the tardis, it was his ship and his home and it was... Martha cried out with surprised delight hugging him and he smiled.
"Welcome back Martha Jones," his delight evident.
"Doctor," she pulled free, "Why didn't I remember," how could she have forgotten new, New York or Manhattan or any of it?
"I'm not sure," he confessed, "And for now it doesn't matter, what does matter is," his voice was drowned out by screams male and female as people panicked and over the panic they heard it this gurgled roar of a throat full of blue foam – the patient only he wasn't a patient not anymore he was a menace.
"We have to do something," she said. Yes I know that said his brilliant gaze as he turned to the crates behind them, MEDICAL SUPPLIES was printed on several.
"Now what have we here," the Doctor reached up with narrow probing fingers?
One crate was pulled down and with a Swiss army knife the Doctor began cutting away at the tape and binding, going over to him she read what was on the label there was a mixture of drugs all of them highly dangerous.
"You're breaking the law; you do know that most of these are toxic."
Yes said his smile that's the idea, pulling out a small cardboard box he prized loose the lid to expose a dozen phials of mostly colourless liquid. "Perfect," he said putting this aside. A second box was extracted, within this were sealed plastic dishes containing various coloured powders. "Yes these should do."
What did he think he was playing at you needed to be a trained biochemist to handle such things? "Help me carry these into the TARDIS will you."
Picking up one box he marched over to the bizarre blue cabinet she hadn't noticed before opened a door on the side and walked in.
His voice drifted out from within, "Any time today will do."
Feeling a powerful excitement at seeing the craft again she strode through the wooden doors, there was a light emanating from within. Circling the TARDIS she felt the familiar odd vibration of power that made her skin prickle all over and a bizarre, pulsating sound.
"What are you doing in there, Doctor?"
No reply.
Going to an inner door she peered within, unable to make anything out she extended an arm into the gloom.
"Where are you?"
The distant light, which seemed to be way off, called to her so she approached it taking seven or eight more steps and then she was in…
A square white walled room, a table balanced on a raised platform on which was some kind of hi-tech lash-up.
Head popping up from behind this the Doctor grinned at her, "Sorry about the smell." He said and there was a pungent chemical odour in the air, medicinal. Oh god had he been mixing those drugs? Despite her fear and awe Martha ran up a ramp to the lash-up and circled it until she reached the man. Beside him was a large bowl and bubbling away in this, giving off a noxious vapour was a couple of litres of foaming unguent.
"Are you totally insane?" She cried.
"Here, put this on." The white cotton facemask landed in her palms. "I can withstand this but your human constitution is weaker."
Quick as a flash she put on the mask whilst her brain tried to make sense of what he'd just said.
"Not ideal," said the Doctor in reference to the unguent. "But it's the best we can do with your limited resources."
Taking a large, gutter-thick syringe from a drawer on the side of the lash-up he plunged its needle into the unguent and sucked some up into the chunky cylinder. "Of course I've no idea how much we'll need," he said. "Have to wing it, won't we?"
"Just what are you planning to do with that stuff?"
"Nothing," he said suddenly tossing the syringe to her and forcing her to catch it. "This is down to you, Dr Jones."
The syringe was warm to the touch and the unguent continued to bubble and foam inside it. Martha was struck by something, he had called her Dr Jones nobody had ever done that before not even her trainers and how could he know who she was?
"I'm not a qualified doctor."
This didn't seem to bother the strange man at all. "You will be after today, you're about to save this entire hospital."
And easing past her he began to descend the long ramp that led from door to console, "Are you coming," he asked, "doctor?"
She wished he'd stop calling her that, although deep down she rather liked it.
"I'm not injecting anyone with the stuff inside here," she told him hoisting the monster syringe.
"No need, just aim and plunge, the spray should do the trick."
"What trick?" Martha snapped. Losing his amiable grin he shoved both hands into his trouser pockets and regarded her with a more sombre air.
"The human host, the man you refer to as a patient, is dead he died hours ago when the parasite took over his body. That chemical brew isn't desired to cure a human being but to eradicate an alien creature that is malignant to your entire species."
More madness, did he really expect her to believe this?
"Alien?" She said imbuing the word with as much scorn as she could. "Like the daleks and Slitheen."
"More dangerous, he can infect anyone he touches or drools on."
"Do they become aliens to," she asked?
"Hosts, yes," the Doctor admitted.
"What do these aliens want?"
"At the moment I'm not sure, I just know they have to be stopped."
"Will this stuff reverse the infection," Martha felt dubious?
"Arrest its spread at least," the tall thin man replied.
"Then we can find a cure," she asked hopefully, "I mean there has to be a cure doesn't there?"
He studied her part-impressed, part-amused, looking he rover checking her out.
Finally he waved outside and said, "Come on Dr Jones time to battle monsters one more time."
Monsters on alien worlds or space stations or even in the past was one thing but her place of work her hospital it just felt wrong somehow.
"I don't know about this," she said, "I mean I'm not sure I'm ready for it."
Taking her by the shoulders and looking into her eye sin that earnest, probing way he had the Doctor offered a smile, "You can do this Martha Jones I believe in you totally, I've seen you face down witches, robots and The Master."
Yes that was coming back to her now, how brave she'd been the worlds she'd visited with him in this impossible box, "Is there no other way," she asked, couldn't they just call UNIT?
He said, "You saw the state that man was in; imagine that spreading all over this town, this country, the entire world do you really want that to happen?"
Well of course she didn't, "Okay," she finally said, "I'll try this all-purpose cure of yours I just hope it works."
Me to, said his features for a brief moment then his luminous smile was back, "Let's go and find out," he enthused.
Emerging from the tardis they found that they were no longer alone in the storage cupboard, the patient was before them patient zero the blue foam vomiting alien host. Mouth open he dribbled blue onto his shirt and the floor, his flesh quivering and eyes wide, their shape and colour all wrong no longer human.
"The very man," said the Doctor jovially, "We were just coming to look for you, weren't we Martha and now you've saved us the bother; most helpful."
Not feeling so brave Martha felt like dashing right back into the tardis so they could take off, but she couldn't just abandon her colleagues or the patients she owed them better than that.
"You're sick," she told Mr Blue Foam, "You need treatment," she held up the large syringe, "I can help you."
Not looking like he wanted or needed her help the man made a curious gurgling sound from deep in his throat, his hands rose swollen and discoloured, changing shape as she watched, stretching and bulging, the bones clicking as they reformed into talons.
"Now Martha," the Doctor urged, "Now would be a good time."
But she couldn't move, she was mesmerized by those claws and his rippling torso as it to stretching and crunched, a transformation taking place before her eyes.
The yellow eyes were bulging out of their sockets as if about to burst from the swollen ulcerating face which no longer looked all that human.
"Martha," the Doctor insisted as the strange semi-human creature, her ex patient advanced on stiff legs. She raised the syringe and squeezed, a stream of white viscous milky liquid hit the man in the face and chest drenching his skin and shirt.
"Oh well done," the time lord enthused.
"How long will it take to work," she asked him backing away from the still advancing figure?
"Seconds, mere seconds," but as those seconds ticked by the man kept coming seemingly unaffected by the Doctor's cocktail of drugs.
It's not working Martha realised; he's not going down or retching or even wiping his eyes.
Frowning now the Doctor took out his sonic and gave it a wave through the air, "That's odd," he muttered, "Very odd, positively baffling."
They had backed up to the tardis by now and Martha felt keen to return to its embrace. Sucking in a deep breath the man made a horrible gurgle in his throat and she just knew beyond any doubt that he was about to projectile vomit more blue foam.
The Doctor had the police box door open in a trice, pushed her inside and dove in himself, giving one cheeky look back to say, "Sorry about this back in a mo," and he slammed the blue door just before it was drenched in bubbling, frothing corrosive.
Martha could hear the liquid hissing and splattering and was glad it wasn't all over her, "Nice plan," she said sarcastically.
"But it should have worked, I was sure I had the right elements in the mix."
"What now," they could hardly go back outside?
"Where was that man found, I mean by the paramedics where did they pick him up from," thinking quickly the Doctor circled the console room.
Martha had no idea then it occurred to her, "It would be on his medical notes."
"And they are," big eyes took her in as he answered his own question, "ICU."
Yes they'd be in ICU clipped to the bed, but to go there would mean leaving the tardis on foot and braving several corridors being prowled by infected mutating people.
Hopping to the console the Doctor pressed things and twisted hard, "Short trip," he said gleefully. Was he serious about returning to ICU? As she watched the glass filaments of the time rotor rise and fall just once she felt a pang of dizziness but it soon passed.
On screen an image of the ICU appeared, it was wrecked with broken glass everywhere, IVs torn to shreds and bodies –a nurse, an orderly, another nurse but no sign of Tom where could he be, was he a mutant now to?
Martha saw the bed with the notes still clipped to its base, when she pointed this out the Doctor assumed a determined expression, "I'll get them," he said but she barred his way. This was her hospital, her patient and thus her problem.
"No I will," she told him with a touch of her old spirit; she was once again Martha Jones explorer. His look was questioning even doubting but this didn't stop him from operating the door release or giving her an encouraging wave.
"Take your time," advised the Doctor sounding unnaturally calm.
"I can do this," she assured him.
"I know you can," he said.
Nodding she went to the tardis doors taking a deep gulping breath as her heart raced madly, oh god what was she letting herself in for, what if one of those things was waiting for her?
It was a mess with things torn loose and broken, IV drips hanging loose connected to nothing, bandages and pressure pads littering the floor like mushrooms and foam, blue foam dripping off everything. No bodies though for which she was grateful, she didn't want to find the limp remains of her colleagues and friends, not sure she could handle it.
The bed was askew into the room to reach them and slipped on the sticky floor, looking back she saw him watching her from the tardis door features tight with concentration. He nodded slowly; keep going you're doing fine said that nod.
Reaching the notes she found that the alien host had been named Patient Zero, well it made a change from John Doe she supposed. He was described as a Caucasian male 30 to 40, height 5-10 and it said he was found at...
"Found it," Martha called behind her, "The industrial park on South Side."
"Does it give an exact location," the Doctor called?
Squinting at the awful handwriting, a spidery scrawl that was smudged by foam Martha said, "I can't tell this is stained."
She knew he needed precision before he could set the tardis in motion, the industrial park was a big place there were miles of rambling roads and empty units, "I think it says Tebbit Side," that was under construction a new build, "Unit 8 or it could be 9."
"Okay good that's enough Martha now come back in," he urged and she was about to rejoin him when she heard the moan, it was coming from under the bed and sounded pained.
"Hang on," she called, "There's someone else here."
His lean face jerked up pale and concerned, "No just leave him and come back here."
But Martha wasn't made like that she had a caring nature, it was why she wanted to be a doctor, but as she reached the bed a hand shot out male and strong to close around her ankle pulling hard and over balancing her so much she sat down hard on her bum.
A face appeared streaked with sweat and some blood, it was Tom the guy who never got a hangover or the flu who was always bright eyed and bushy tailed.
She gawped at him in shock seeing no ulcers, bulges or foam he didn't look mutated or infected.
"Tom," she called, "It's me Martha Jones."
Blinking at her he looked confused then his features relaxed, "Martha," he grunted, "Oh my god are you all right?"
"I'm not infected," she replied, "How about you," he seemed to be okay he sounded normal just like the old Tom.
"I think so I feel normal just a bit bruised."
"Hello Tom," the Doctor's voice made him jump and look around startled, it was clear he was trying and failing to place the slim man in the grey suit.
"That's the Doctor," Martha stood up her pants soaked.
"Which one," Tom asked also getting to his feet?
"Just THE Doctor an old friend, he doesn't work here."
"Is that a police box, what's it doing in here?"
Long story she thought a very long story and this wasn't the time and place, "I think you should come with us, Doctor can Tom come with us," they couldn't just leave him here?
Studying Tom with a frown the time lord seemed to be thinking hard about it, then he turned and walked into the tardis giving an almost casual wave.
Martha smiled, "Come on Tom you have to see this, it isn't a police box not really," as they neared the tardis doors the Doctor flicked something a switch of some kind. Tom entered firs this reaction just what she'd expected, wide eyed disbelief, slack jawed amazement, turning in a circle to take in the cathedral-like size.
"Yeah I know," she said pulling the door to behind her, "It blew me away first time," and the rest she mused.
"This is," he began then gazed at her, "Oh my god I'm going mad."
At the central console now and working controls the Doctor didn't look up, "Tebbit Side here we come," he said absently and Tom frowned at Martha.
"What does he mean by that?"
She waved this aside Tom would see soon enough, "It's where Patient Zero was found by the paramedics, hopefully there'll be some clue there as to what he's infected with."
"An alien life form," now the Doctor was looking at them he features quizzical and slightly disturbed by something.
"Alien," Tom scoffed, "Oh come on now," but he couldn't deny the evidence of his eyes.
Martha said, "Aliens are real, I've met several and the Doctor is..."
But the thin man interrupted her, "The alien is reproducing itself through Patient Zero transmitting spores through that foam, taking over other hosts, we have to find out what species it is."
"How will going to Tebbit Side help," Tom demanded then cottoned on, "Oh you think the alien ship will be there is that it, some kind of craft or pod with records."
Martha was impressed by how quickly Tom was catching on; he'd worked out their plan with impressive speed.
"That's right," the Doctor replied, "There has to be a ship of some kind, one with files, records and computer core. I need to know more about this threat, where this alien comes from and what it is."
"So you can destroy it," Tom reasoned.
"Or convince it to leave earth," said Martha.
"And if it refuses," Tom's gaze jumped from her to the thin man?
"We'll see," said the Doctor absently and Martha felt moved to say.
"We like to offer choices where we can, to negotiate."
Considering this Tom nodded, "Very humane," he said not sounding convinced, "But something tells me this thing isn't here to mediate."
That was secretly her view as well but she knew the Doctor always preferred the peaceful option.
"We're here," said the time lord spinning away from the console to approach the door, he paused to regard Tom critically for a second then his gaze jumped to her and his boyish smile was back, "Let's see what this industrial site can reveal."
It was cool outside an icy breeze ruffling Martha's hair; she shuddered inside her white lab coat wishing she'd worn something thicker and longer with a hood. The cold didn't bother the Doctor of course he seemed immune to heat and cold, oddly it didn't bother Tom either.
The dreary box like shells of industrial units towered over them bland and grey for the most party with signs that said TO LET or UNDER OFFER.
Martha had always found such places depressing in the extreme but the Doctor was beaming with delight, nothing he saw knocked his optimistic spirit.
Sonic out he waved this over first one unit then another until the high pitched squeal turned into a three tone warble, he'd fund something and jogged over to a green cube with a TO LET sign, "It's here," he said.
"Doesn't look like a spaceship to me," Tom muttered.
Or me Martha had to confess but adjusting the sonic to a different setting the Doctor waved it over the cube and this began to flicker, to shimmer and to burst apart in a snow storm of winking lights.
One second later something very different was revealed, something smaller, cigar shaped and obviously alien a craft made of bright silver alloy with a dorsal fin, two side fins and an airlock.
Wow thought Martha impressed despite the fact she'd seen plenty of spaceships by this time. This one was small, slim but very functional part rocket, part jet she was guessing.
"Amazing," Tom seemed suitably impressed but turning to him eyes oddly cold and distrustful the Doctor lowered his sonic.
"You would say that given that you piloted it here," he said and Martha gawped in amazement. Tom pilot a spaceship, he was a junior doctor and party animal the Doctor had got it totally wrong.
"The tardis scans everyone who enters her and you read as 'alien' so please no surprised looks or denials," he said and to her surprise Tom shrugged, gave a cheesy little smile and replied.
"Okay you got me," and turning to her he added, "Sorry Martha."
She was beyond gobsmacked, "You're an alien," no wonder he never got hung over, "All these months and you never told me."
"He couldn't," said the Doctor, "Because he was the one who gave you your memory block – like to explain why Tom or shall I – Martha twigged you weren't human from day one, it's travelling with me in the tardis you develop an instinct for aliens a sort of alien-radar."
Approaching the ship to pat its dorsal fin affectionately Tom avoided her accusing gaze, "I had to protect myself, nobody could know who and what I really was; Martha could have blown my cover completely."
"Yes because," said the Doctor, "This is a penal bio-containment ship isn't it, you were ferrying something nasty and illegal in a prohibited area of space."
"I was taking it to Vedra, I'm sure you've heard of Vedra Doctor."
It was clear the thin man had from the gleam in his eyes, "penal colony of the Tezamak, but you're not Tezamak are you?"
Tom nodded, "Right again I'm a freelance security consultant, my home world is Calexis."
"Of course I thought this design was familiar; inter galactic trouble shooters for hire. Let me guess you lost control, got caught in earth's gravity well and made a forced landing."
"The meson drive unit was totally burned out, repairing it has taken forever with the limited resources of earth so I needed a cover, a job; I became Tom Mason."
"But hang on," Martha was confused, "You'd need ID, references, qualifications; you can't just pretend to be a junior doctor."
Look pitying Tom parted his hands, "Honestly Martha it wasn't that hard.
"
"Let's get back to your cargo," voice stern the time lord circled the ship, "What is it and how do we stop it?"
"You can't," now Tom's voice had acquired some steel, "And you mustn't try, the creature is my responsibility and nobody must hear of this."
"People have died," Martha objected, "Friends of mine have died," she couldn't believe what she was hearing, was Tom suggesting they just brushed this all under the carpet?
"Not any longer," the Doctor had found a way to open the ship up to cause it to peel into two sections, "This thing has to be stopped, Martha's right people have died and more will die unless we act now, we've gone beyond your professional reputation."
He thrust his head into the dividing ship to gaze at its controls, streamlined computers and a large glass container near the back its lid askew. Pipes and cables fed into the container which looked to her like a large incubator.
There were smears and spots of genetic material on the glass and taking out a swab the time lord rubbed at them running his sonic over the swab. Fascinated Martha didn't notice Tom moving up behind her until it was too late until his left arm was around her neck and a small snub nosed weapon was pressed into her side.
"Move away from the ship Doctor," he ordered as blue eyes flicked around irritated and alarmed.
"Let Martha go."
"I won't harm her if you do as I say, this is my problem and I'll handle it my way."
"You've done a great job of it so far," the thin man removed the entire incubator which was the size of a large fish tank.
Tom said, "Put that back."
"Sorry I need to analyse its contents further in the tardis," and to Martha's amazement the Doctor strode past her and up to the police box giving Tom a cheeky wink like he didn't have a care in the world.
She did a gun was jabbed into her side and she was being held captive by some kind of mercenary who didn't value human life at all.
Left standing Tom followed the Doctor into the tardis taking Martha with him and that was his mistake because a slender finger shot out to hit a hidden button and beams of blue light jumped down from the tardis entrance.
Suddenly free Martha saw Tom clutch himself and collapse pitching half in and half out of the ship stunned. Not hurt herself she gazed down at him, grabbing his weapon so he couldn't use it again.
"What did you do?"
"Not me, the tardis; automatic anti intruder defence system."
She'd never heard of this before, was it something he'd added since her time or had he kept it a secret deliberately?
"Is he hurt," she asked?
"Stunned, drag him all the way in will you or I won't be able to shut the doors."
Tom wasn't a light bloke and Martha grunted and huffed as she hauled him over the threshold. Meanwhile the Doctor attached the fish tank to a table close to the console and ran a cable from console to table.
A TV screen came on filling with symbols and data, protein chains by the looks of it and DNA sequences. It made the equipment at her hospital looked archaic, but then it would – this was time lord technology.
"What are you doing, developing another potion to reverse the alien effect," Martha asked?
"At the moment I'm just trying to figure out what species this alien is; something I should have done before."
"Where did you say Tom was from?"
"Calexis – they're a race of traders, freeloaders and mercenaries with high intelligence, brilliant mimicry and," the words froze on his lips, "Oh no," he ran down towards Tom lay only Tom wasn't there anymore.
Slapping his own head the Doctor uttered a groan, "stupid," he cried, "Cals have chameleon ability they can blend in with their environment it makes them virtually invisible."
"But Tom was knocked unconscious," she pointed out, "Or was he?"
"Briefly," kicking the floor where Tom had lain the Doctor looked around and raising his voice said, "If you can hear me there's no way out of the tardis and you can't fly it yourself so don't try."
Martha added her own voice, "Help us Tom, help us destroy this thing there's no other sane thing to do."
"If you help us now," the Doctor offered, "I promise I'll get you back home to Cal or wherever you want to go, no questions asked."
"Come on Tom this is pointless," Martha agreed, "You can't get out of here or stop us so work with us."
Returning to the console with long strides and peering at the screen the Doctor muttered, "I could scan for him if we had more time but," a ping came from the table holding the alien fish tank, "Aha, at last," face lighting up with joy and enthusiasm he punched keys, "This is it."
"A cure," she said hopefully.
"Information certainly," he qualified.
"To help us kill this thing," please say yes she inwardly begged and a frothy bubbling liquid began to fill the fish tank a sort of sickly yellowish colour like lemon fairy liquid.
"We'll soon see," said the Doctor and as the liquid touched alien slime the slime began to curl, blacken and dissolve. We've done it Martha beamed going over to hug him.
"It works," she cried, "Look it's killing the alien matter."
Not responding the Doctor chose to wait and see his bright eyes scanning every inch of the bowl to see if any biological matter survived but none can back so raising his voice again he said,
"Okay Tom this seems to be it, we can now kill your alien parasite. I'd like to do this with your assistance but if not I'm going to do it anyway."
Still no response from the Cal pilot who seemed to be weighing his options, Martha tried again,
"Oh come on Tom there's nothing else we can do and you're stranded here with no other friends."
Suddenly he fizzed into existence beside her just inches away and she shrank back fearing another attack but he made no move to grab her looking apologetic and a little ashamed.
"All right Doctor you win; if we have to kill this thing then let's get on with it I have no alternative to offer."
Can I trust you said the time lord's gaze but to Martha there seemed little choice, "Thanks Tom," she said warmly?
"I'm sorry humans have died," he confessed, "I'm glad you weren't one of them Martha."
The place was deserted it was unnaturally quiet for a hospital, no voices, clanging, music or screams, Martha found it spooky even worse than before.
"Where is everyone," she said as she and two men emerged from the tardis into a long corridor?
"The uninfected will have fled by now," the Doctor theorised, "UNIT should be on the way but I want to get this finished before they arrive," he eyed the other two, "Clunking soldiers, guns, questions," he grimaced.
"But why is it so silent," Tom agreed with Martha, "Where are the infected people shouldn't they be attacking us?"
Glad they weren't she turned a corner and froze gazing wide-eyed at the sight before her, the thing sat in the middle of a small waiting area having pushed the benches to one side.
It was a huge blue mound, a large almost shapeless mass made of some fibrous organic material, and heavily veined it was pulsating softly and giving off a vile stench.
Circling it, his sonic out the Doctor moved his face alarmingly close to the thing to peer and sniff then straightening up with a serious expression he sighed, "I was afraid of this," he said, "They're pupating."
"Pupating," Martha repeated unable to believe her ears.
"Pupating," he confirmed.
"Like insects you mean; turning into something else," something worse she didn't add?
Tom groaned, "I should have guessed; it's a natural part of the life cycle."
"You knew this would happen," turning on him face flushed she gave him an accusing stare?
"Not this quickly and not so soon," he backed away, "The cycle seems to be accelerating due to the different atmosphere."
"You should have warned us," Martha slapped his shoulder in frustration.
"The thing is," moving between them and pushing her arm down diplomatically the Doctor maintained an even tone, "What do we do now," he asked hoisting the big syringe in his free hand full of the lemon coloured potion.
To her it was obvious, "We carry on as before we inject these...pods or whatever they are."
"Not easy," said Tom, "The skins are incredibly tough."
"Then we burn through them with a laser," she offered.
"That might work," he conceded.
"What would work better," said the Doctor, "Is killing patient zero; the others are all linked to him."
"But how do we find him now," Martha felt crushed, "If all these things are pupating he could be anywhere," to her the situation had become hopeless they were beaten.
Circling the waiting area and twirling his syringe the Doctor looked thoughtful, "Any ideas Tom," he suddenly asked.
"Me," a short troubled laughed, "Why would I know."
"Oh it's just that you flew the ship here, kept the incubator safe then let the parasite out."
"Let it out," Martha shouted, "How do you know that?"
"Did you see any scratches on the tank, any damage to the lid," the Doctor replied and she cast her mind back.
"No the tank was intact," she said.
"Yes it was wasn't it so how did the creature get out if the tank was unharmed in the crash, any clues?"
"Someone let it out," she turned her gaze to Tom, "Someone opened the tank with a key."
"Exactly," right up to Tom now the Doctor slapped him on the shoulder he was the only suspect and pulling away he raised his hands.
"Oh now wait a minute you two you can't just accuse me like that, you're jumping to conclusions; why would I let my prisoner escape?"
Yeah that was a good point she had to concede, if the thing escaped Tom wouldn't get paid, "It doesn't make any sense," she told the Doctor but he wasn't so easily dissuaded.
"It does if Tom here isn't the pilot at all but another of the prisoners and working in league with the parasite."
"But hang on if that's true what happened to the pilot," she asked but she could work it out, "They infected him he was patient zero."
"Or he was patient number one and Tom here is patient zero," the Doctor leaned against a vending machine.
"But he's not infected he hasn't changed," Martha protested seeing no signs of ulcers, swelling or the blue foam.
Circling Tom and looking him up and down The Doctor tapped his own teeth with the blunt end of the sonic, "Yes that had me confused for a while," he admitted, "Maybe the change has been slowed down in some way or even arrested but sooner or later," he smiled, "It has to show through isn't that right Tommy old son?"
Smirking to himself Tom looked at Martha with something close to regret in his eyes, "I'm sorry Martha I really am," he sounded quite genuine, "But the truth is," he sucked in a gulping breath, "The Doctor's right," and he began to change, his face bulging alarmingly, blue foam flecking his teeth and ulcers erupting across his neck and forearms.
Pulling her to safety behind him the Doctor retreated from the monstrous image syringe raised but before he could use it a hand shot out, grabbed the syringe and hurled it aside.
"Not that easy Doctor," voice hoarse and guttural now the creature advanced changing with each step.
No it never is, Martha thought glad she had her own syringe, she offered it but the Doctor was distracted so slipping around him she two took faltering steps to give herself some room and aimed at Tom or the thing Tom had become the monstrosity.
That was when he grabbed the Doctor, literally wrapping his arms around the thin man and holding him in a bear hug. Oh great now she couldn't risk doing anything.
She tried to circle behind Tom but he turned with her keeping his hostage between them, his strength incredible.
"Keep away," this from the Doctor in an agonized wail, "Don't come any closer Martha."
What was she supposed to do just let him be killed or worse infected; she had to be something she could do.
"Take my needle," she told the Doctor but his arms weren't long enough, she would have to take a step nearer. She shuffled forwards wary of Tom and what he might do.
"No," the Doctor's cry came just in time and throwing herself to one side she just avoided a face full of blue foamy vomit, which splashed disgustingly all over the vending machine coating it completely.
Gasping in pain and barely able to breathe the Doctor forced a smile, "Just you and me big boy," he said and jaws parting Tom made to bite him.
In the same instant the Doctor opened his own mouth as if to receive the foam but instead he spat something from under his tongue into the gaping maw. It glistened in the light for a moment an ampoule of some kind and then Tom swallowed it, he had no choice and no time to clamp his jaws.
Choking and retching he fell back releasing the Doctor who fell into Martha's arms. Pushing her back out of the way he turned to the creature to see it gagging and coughing, vomiting up yellow pus now.
"I'm sorry," he said and seemed to mean it, "I'm so sorry but you left me no choice."
Falling to his knees and clawing at his own throat Tom made the most awful sounds, hideous death rattles then fell onto his back his face his entire body melting and leaking pus from every pore.
The pupae were dying to she could see shrinking and withering, splitting open to eject their soft bodied contents, hideous mutants with many limbs and eyes.
She turned away unable to watch anymore and felt a hand on her shoulder, "tardis," he asked and she nodded glad to be led away from the rotting, melting mess.
Later over a cup of tea and a sticky bun (where did he get sticky buns from, they were fresh to), the Doctor came to sit in front of her in the console room.
"So Martha Jones," he said in his old voice, "What now," he asked, "NHS or AITU?"
She frowned at him, "What's AITU," she asked?
"Anywhere in the universe," he said with impish glee meaning did she want to join him in the tardis again for one more adventure. Well, did she?
Martha put her bun down but kept hold of the tea as her hands were cold, it was decision time and looking into his twinkling eyes she knew what she was going to say.