Night and the Doctor

by batsandbones-107

"And Doctor Song? In prison all her days?" - "All her days, yes. All her nights . . . well, that's between her and me, eh?"

2. Chapter 2: Way of the Wolf

2 - The Way of the Wolf

A multitude of stars twinkled in space. Blue, black, purple depths, endless, sprinkled with white dots and the occasional planet. Nebulas swirled at such a slow rate as for the movement to be unperceived except through a time-lapse of the centuries. But there was nothing, nothing for millions of miles. Maybe even billions.

Nothing, but a blue box, and a pair of legs. Ten stared down into space a little dreamily, his hands cupped around a steaming mug.

Nothing, but a blue box, a pair of legs, and a . . . blue cube, floating toward him, loudly whistling? The Doctor stood up straight, almost dropping his mug in excitement. Mail!

It was hard to get mail when you lived in a box that spent most of its time on a different planet . . . and in the wrong time zone. But, if you sent the mail very persistently, repetitively, with a real effort, usually it made its way to the TARDIS door. The Doctor leaned out the door as far as he could, one leg swinging free, a hand outstretched, his tongue nearly hanging out, he was so excited. He swiped, once, twice, and claimed the box. The doors swung shut loudly as he hopped down the steps three at a time.

The box was a small cube, glaring with an intense navy light, two white shining rings linked on each of its faces. Ten frowned. He didn't quite remember that icon . . . Hmm. He tapped the cube experimentally. Nothing happened. Cracked it against the floor. Stomped on it. Tried to peel it apart with his fingernails for a solid fifteen minutes. He actually obtained a hammer from a drawer and swung at it - the TARDIS groaned alarmingly just before the tip smacked the console and he backpedaled rapidly. This was not going to work.

He glared accusingly at the cube.

"Open!" he ordered it loudly.

Still no reaction. Well, sometimes it worked.

Ten smoothed a hand through his hair and sighed loudly at the cube, resting innocently on the console. A second later the twin rings began to glow very brightly and the cube unfolded, like origami, unfurling starting with the top and finishing with the two rings, that had remained jutting upward, but now sank into the bottom of the cube so that they formed a two-dimensional shiny white drawing on the center of the paper. The ink of the drawing dissipated and reformed into a pattern of spidery white text.

"Breath recognition," the Doctor muttered. "Well, it's an uncommon enough technique."

He leaned forward to inspect the writing.

Greetings Altravus,

You have been selected for duty on the Moste Brutal Courte of Wrongs. The case is one concerning the matter of Grande Theft performed by Dark Stepse. You are expected to attend from 10am Augast 7 to and possibly exceeding July 7. The case may be complexe and your confidentiality is required. Please be prompt and impartial.

Yours in brotherehood,

The High Courte of Wolflong

"Wolflong!" the Doctor said in wonder.

He remembered it now. He'd spent some time on the planet of wolfish humanoids, which practiced a savage, tribal code of justice. (In their culture, brutal and savage were both considered compliments.) He'd never heard of law courts on the planet, but then he'd been adopted into the society - after being code named Altravus, a more Wolflongish name - a few centuries ago, from his perspective, and he may have forgotten. Hm. Well, he'd have to show up. It had been a long time since he'd been a juror on a court case. The linked rings: the symbol of the government of Wolflong.

The Doctor turned to the console. "Well, old girl," he breathed. "To the most Brutal Courte of Wrongs."

The TARDIS materialized on busy square, right by a lamppost, where a few startled Wolfers scattered as they realized they were being absorbed into a strange blue box. Ten abruptly remembered to make it go invisible and dashed over to the console to hit down the lever before peeking outside.

"Snow!" he said in surprise.

Snow blanketed the cobblestones and whirled down from the heavens. The Doctor walked outside, using a hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the cold white sky. Tall, broad-shouldered figures - including the women, who were nearly as muscular as the men - were packed in the square, and barely any seemed to spare a glance to the sudden depression in the snow that marked the invisible TARDIS. The aliens were all very tall, brawny, and suspiciously furry. Most wore long gray coats reminiscent of wolf fur and all had long silvery hair, a pair of two wolf ears, and large eyes. The chattering the passersby made sounded like small yipping dogs. The Doctor smiled in enjoyment and moved on.

He was on the lookout, of course, for the high-steepled building that housed the Moste Brutal Courte of Wrongs, but there was nothing wrong with a bit of sightseeing. Ten sloshed through the flakes, which were rapidly dusting his hair. It was nice to be in a snowy place. He'd spent so much time on warm paradise-esque planets lately . . . (trying to distract himself, if he was honest. Donna's fate was weighing down on him more heavily than ever. But the Doctor was excellent at pretending everything was alright, and today was no exception). Ten squeezed through the crowds, searching for a sign to point his way. It was Augast on Wolflong - the Earth equivalent of August, but on this side of the planet it was snowy during the summers. Just another detail he'd forgotten in his absence from his "brotherehood".

A tall blue sign indicated to pedestrians the way to notable landmarks. The Doctor stared up at it, got his bearings, and hailed a driver to take him the five miles he'd have to go on foot otherwise. Wolfers tended to be much better at walking than humans . . . and Time Lords. A Wolfer pulled up in tiny roofed wagon, pulled by an enormous red-coated canine with snaggly teeth. A Vunderwolf - closely related to the Wolfer species, but as the Wolfers legally practiced slavery, it did not matter much. The Wolfer, dressed in a thick brown coat, peered down at the Doctor from under craggy gray brows.

A thick accent. "Where're you off to?"

"The Most Brutal Court of Wrongs," the Doctor enunciated clearly.

"Get in," the driver grunted, swinging back his voluminous furs. A tradition of Wolflong hospitality (one of the only traditions) that the Doctor appreciated very clearly - the drivers' fur coats, wrapped around them to keep the furs warm, was always swung out heated for passengers to shelter in. The Doctor exchanged a piece of stamped rawhide (Wolflong currency) with the driver, who jerked a clawed thumb into the back. "In!"

The Doctor smiled, painfully polite, and climbed in to snuggle into the fur. He sat on his hands and stared off in enjoyment. The driver swung his whip and said something impossible to decipher, it was so guttural, but the Vunderwolf started off with a low bellow. A red tail swung in Ten's face and the heavy pads began to pull forward. The wagon bounced and jostled in the snow as it set off rolling.

The Doctor suddenly jolted. A bald, enormous head, hollows for eyes, no discernable mouth, a thin black suit with nothing to shelter it from the cold, staring ominously at him from the side of the street.

Then, the carriage passed it by, and the Doctor forgot.

The wagon ground to a stop, snow crunching, and the Vunderwolf's breath steamed up from the air as the Doctor clambered out. No tips necessary. On Wolflong, tipping was considered a sign of weakness. But the Vunderwolf did not know it was so. Ten tossed another piece of rawhide to the big red beast and it snapped it up gratefully, staring at him from steamy red eyes. Its enormous sandpaper tongue swiped around its snaggle-teeth. The Doctor estimated that it wasn't a threat, but he didn't like the look of those teeth. He passed onto the cobbled sidewalk as the carriage rolled off. Wolfers stopped to look at the Doctor, so strange and hairless and pink as he was, in fascination. A little one, a girl with long silvery sideburns that flowed onto a pretty brown coat, stared up at him, one finger outstretched. The mother was pointing as well. On Wolflong, pointing was considered a compliment.

The Doctor smiled at them and quickly passed through the doors of the Most Brutal Court of Wrongs. Instantly a blast of warmer air met him. It wasn't very warm, though, the Doctor judged, because wolves kept warm with their fur rather than artificial heating. A stern-looking receptionist sat at the desk and stared him down from under craggy white brows. "Yes?"

"Juror for the case of" . . . the Doctor checked the envelope . . . "Grand Theft, performed by Dark Steps."

"You're late," said the secretary gutturally.

With a time machine? The Doctor sighed. "My apologies. Will I still be admitted?"

"You are three days late . . . Altravus?"

"That's me," the Doctor confirmed, pointing at himself, a sinking feeling in his gut. Three days late? "Same question, will I still be admitted?"

"The jurors are in session for five more minutes. Then you may join them for their recess and go over the minutes," the secretary replied dismissively. His hot breath, smelling like rancid meat, hit the Doctor in the face as he leaned forward. A nametag dropped and hit the desk with a loud rattling sound. Altravus gleamed up from it. "Do not be late."

Wolfers appreciated punctuality, as well.

Ten waited behind a tall tropical plant for the jurors to adjourn, unwilling to admit it, but he wanted to stay out of the receptionist's surly eye. Finally, a light that had been yellow glowed blue, and from the hallway behind the reception desk voices began to babble. A stream of people began to issue from the door. Mostly Wolfers, but a few humans too. The Doctor waited with an inkling of impatience. And when the last few people emerged, he jolted in surprise. Professor River Song, walking out with a cluster of Wolfers, speaking in hushed voices. The Doctor shrank behind the plant, not willing to be seen, but too late, the whole kit and caboodle of them were coming this way.

The jurors stood in little circles, some laughing in throaty voices, others just speaking in quiet tones. Ten kept his eyes trained on River, his heart thumping loudly beneath his suit. Surely she would hear it. She knew everything. Oh, why, oh why did he have to come to this trial?

Maybe she wouldn't see him, the Doctor prayed, and maybe Altravus wouldn't show up to this trial at all. He held his breath as River's gaze slowly swept the room. Then she found him, and she stared at him for half a millisecond before her eyes turned away.

What? Didn't she want to talk to him?

Somehow that rubbed the Doctor the wrong way. Maybe it wouldn't do any harm to stay, he decided.

He waited patiently as the jurors stood and talked for a few minutes, then as a guard emerged from the same hallway to order them into the break room or out of the building, depending on their preference, they couldn't have so many people clogging up the lobby, for heaven's sake, there were other trials going on! The Doctor followed the jurors surreptitiously into the break room, keeping River's bush of hair in sight. The guard stopped him to growl at him and sniff him over before the receptionist cleared things up and the guard wolf grudgingly allowed the Doctor past. He sidled into the room, a cramped, tiled cafeteria sort of thing, with heavy pine boughs buttressing the ceiling and log tables waiting. Plates of food sprawled across a central counter and the jurors swarmed to it, their voices rising in anticipation. The Doctor was not looking for food, however. He went straight for the sheaf of papers left on an official-looking, tiny round table by the door: OFFICIALE MINUTES. He knew what he wanted, and he flipped straight to the page discussing Dark Steps's basic info.

Human, it said. Child, it said.

Ten studied her picture with surprise. It was a human, female child, probably around ten or eight years old, with brown hair. She looked very young and timid, but something in her eyes was . . . hard. The camera, as primitive as it was (Wolfers never really bothered with photographs) had managed to capture that much. She had a hard look - like stone, in her pale eyes.

Somebody bumped into him from behind, and Wolfers were not gentle bumpers. The Doctor turned to see a gray-maned male glowering down at him. "I don't believe I've seen you before."

"No, I showed up a bit late," Ten winced, imagining the bruise forming already on his side. "Altravus is the name. You?"

"Longtooth," the Wolfer growled approvingly, gaping his jaw a little to show a freakishly long tooth curling over his tongue. "My dam's name for me was Silverbeard. The Brotherhood thought otherwise for me."

"It's fitting," the Doctor said politely.

"Need any details on the case?" Longtooth went on, his sandpaper tongue lapping at his jaws. His nose quivered wetly in the air and the Doctor shivered, imagining him soaking up all the smells. Time travel had a very specific smell, he understood from previous experiences, but Longtooth shouldn't recognize it . . .

"You smell like Streampaw," Longtooth suddenly blurted. "Hey, Streampaw!" He stuck his wolfish head over his shoulder to call to someone behind him. The Doctor froze as River's golden head turned. She looked very indifferent, very much like she didn't know him, though a smile was still on her face from her last conversation. "Yes, Longtooth?"

"Altravus over here smells like you," the Wolfer huffed. "You know him? Maybe he's from your neck of the woods. Earth, of course."

"I don't know. Maybe," River replied smoothly, approaching them. "Altravus? I'm from Earth, it's always nice to see a fellow human here."

"You know him?" Longtooth prompted.

"I don't think so. It's a pleasure," River said courteously, extending a hand. The Doctor took it dumbly, stunned by her indifference. How could she not know him this time? Were they so out of order? Where was her Hello, sweetie, and her sad sweeping looks, and her flirtiness, and her strange, dangerous familiarity? But she was behaving like they were strangers. This was not the way they met, could it be? They certainly had longer histories than this. The word she'd whispered into his ear, in the Library, proved otherwise.

Her hand was cool and firm. Ten shook it, a little late, and her eyebrows were arching. "Where on Earth are you from?"

"Um, London," he managed, jolted into action by the question. "Britain. You?" Not pausing for her to respond, he moved on to the question lingering under the surface. "I'm sorry, there are so many humans on this case, I'm supposing it's because the defendant is human?"

"You guessed right," Longtooth growled. His face darkened and suddenly looked more wolfish. River cocked a warning look at the Doctor as the wolf-man went on. "She stole riches from the Gaylight pack. Our most prized talismans. I cannot discuss this with a human, even one adopted by the brotherhood. If you will excuse me." He turned away, silver robes flicking the Doctor in the face. He retreated a step, screwing up his eyes. River's laughter surprised him and he looked up at her, startled.

"So, Altravus, how did you become involved with the Wolfers?" she inquired. The Doctor tried to relax while his heart hammered. Maybe he just needed to play along with her game.

"I spent some time with them in the past. You?"

"Very vague," she noticed coolly, raising her eyebrows. "I was adopted in recently, and they named me Streampaw. Altravus is a little less traditional. It means 'whitetail', doesn't it, in the Wolflong old language? Not a compliment. Whitetails are deer, just like on Earth."

Heat crept up into the Doctor's face. "Yeah, but I think the name was something of a joke."

"Maybe," River responded. She took a pace closer and leaned up to speak into his ear. Her breath ruffled his sideburn as she whispered. "The real question is, how does a Time Lord pass as an Earthling to a bunch of scent-sensitive Wolfers?"

"Please," he whispered back, irrationally pleased that she was finally dropping her little game, and that she recognized him, and - why was he so pleased, when she was so infuriating, kept inserting herself, and he wished she wasn't involved with him at all? - "the Wolfers don't know Time Lords from humans."

"They don't," River approved, stepping back, a small smile on her face. "Let me talk to you in private, sweetie. No one is looking."

He followed her out the room, into the hallway, and then (with surprise) into a tiny maintenance closet. It was dark, and he could barely see her outlined against the cleaning buckets. "Why in here?"

"In here they can't see us," she responded quietly. "Doctor, you must behave as if you don't know me. I can't behave as if I know you either. There are people here out to get you. Don't let yourself be recognized!"

In that instance the Doctor remembered just why he hated meeting River Song.

"Stop defending me, River," he demanded intensely, crowding her suddenly. She backed up in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I mean what I said. Tell me who's after me. And tell me the details of this case. Just what are the chances we're both assigned to it?" he said savagely.

River looked taken aback, but she started to answer him reasonably. "Dark Steps - is a human child. No one really knows how she got here. But she stole some things, like Longtooth said, and they're prosecuting her. Humans must be on the case according to the law."

"They can prosecute a child?"

"Apparently it's been a long time since you were on Wolflong, Doctor," River said darkly. "They've gotten rougher around here. People think - people" - and she hesitated, the Doctor getting the sense (as he'd gotten so many times) that she was holding something back - "that the government is under control, from the inside. As to us being assigned to the same case, sheer - coincidence," she replied with forced brightness, waving her hands. "I don't think -"

"Stop lying," Ten interrupted angrily. "There's no such thing as a coincidence with you, River Song, so tell me -"

"I did," River said hotly, "so stop telling me I didn't! Doctor, be reasonable. I have no idea how we were assigned to this same case!"

"I don't believe you," the Doctor breathed in her ear. Muffled voices sounded outside the closet and footsteps passed closely.

There was a brief silence before the door flew open. They both flew around to face a grubby old Wolfer looked surprised. River flew past him and marched away from the Doctor, who followed her out of the closet and stood, breathing heavily out of his nose. Ridiculous woman. His eyes followed the stiff shape of her back as it disappeared around a corner and he turned away, angrily. He needed to focus. He was here for a reason, but - this was more important!

He flew up the corridor, away from the stunned-looking janitor. He needed information on her.

Ten hammered politely on the door. Again. Again. Then it swung open, so fast and hard that he almost fell forward.

"Yes?" said the Wolfer keenly, her long-lashed eyes staring unblinkingly down at him. A brass plate engraved with the words HEAD JUROR gleamed yellow-ly from the desk behind her.

"Oh, hello," the Doctor said with an attempt at an ingratiating smile. "Altravus, juror on the case of Dark Steps." He held out a hand before remembering that that was perceived as a threat by Wolfmen - Wolfwomen. To his surprised relief she took his hand in a enormous clawed grip and shook it twice, leaving his fingers buzzing as the blood flowed back into the tips.

"I'm so sorry, I just realized that handshaking wasn't correct Wolflong social etiquette, I thought I got it wrong…?" the Doctor began, as the Wolfer stood back and invited him into her office. It was low-ceilinged and timber-furnitured. The floor was a filthy brownstone brick. The Wolfer raised her golden brows and turned to face him. By Wolfer standards he thought she would be considered very beautiful.

"Yes, however, I've been on human-controlled planets before," she responded gruffly. "I understand your customs. Your scent is most unusual. What planet do you come from?"

Most customs, the Doctor understood, because if she completely knew them she wouldn't be so rude as to comment on his smell. "Earth, Theta Harehunter," he said politely.

"What can I do for you, Whitetail?" she asked, reading the runes on his nametag.

"I needed to discuss another juror," he replied quickly, glancing meaningfully at the door, which she shut. "Can you be discreet?"

"I always am," she replied discreetly.

"Excellent," Ten murmured, sitting in the chair she indicated to him. Fur swished and the other thronelike chair groaned as she sat heavily in it, piercing silver eyes glaring at him from under long golden fur. "So, I want to know about the juror titled Streampaw."

He had expected Theta Harehunter to scowl in concentration, to wrinkle her brow as she struggled to sort a picture of River out from the rest, to need to flip through an album of current jurors, but what he wasn't expecting was her eyes to light up and a smile to split her face. "Streampaw? Yes, excellent juror, excellent Wolfer. Highly respectable. What about her?"

Ten's head reeled momentarily. "I need all the info you have on her background."

The silver eyes hardened. "I'm not in the habit of giving away information, Altravus, to whoever asks about it, especially when it involves highly ranked Members of the Brotherhood. What exactly do you want on her?"

Her alibi? "Not her personal life," Ten soothed. "Can I just have her basic file?"

"That I can do," Harehunter said more calmly, and stuck out her paws to rifle through a gigantic album. Ten watched as pictures of wolfmen, gargoyles, lizard ladies, Sontarans, three images of Dorian Maldovar from his body-building days, and even as a Vunderwolf flickered past before she withdrew a picture of River from the album and passed it to him, with a ticket bearing her basic information. "There you go. Read it and leave it."

"Actually, can I take a copy home?" the Doctor asked tentatively.

"Certainly." Harehunter took back the ticket and picture and slid it through a tiny version of an Earth copier. A disc was spat out from it, which she passed back to him. "This will have the info on it. Have anything to play it through?"

"Yes," said Ten, his mind whirling. "Thank you."

"Why are you so interested in her?" she asked him coolly.

"Well - you know - other Earthling," he said absently, running a thumb over the disc. He looked up as the question came home. "I - I just - I think I've known her from elsewhere, and -"

"She's a highly regarded member of the Brotherhood," Harehunter interrupted threateningly. "Touch her and you touch the rest of us. Remember that, Whitetail." She stood up, the desk moved back at least three inches, and the Doctor got up and fled the office. He had more questions now than he'd had when he arrived.

The Doctor ran his fingers along the disc. Over and back. It reflected a glossy sheen from the light of the TARDIS. He'd viewed it, but he had learned absolutely nothing, other than that she had joined the Wolflong community much the same way he had: through a stunning series of escapades in which she saved a Prime Minister from assassination and prevented a misunderstanding that would have caused galactic war. It impressed him, but he was still confused. They had no data on her pre-Wolflong life. Only that she visited the planet off and on and was a usual resident of the Andromeda galaxy. Zero specifics. Nothing else. He drove his fingers through his hair. Also, why did Theta Harehunter insist so strongly on protecting her?

He'd read the case file too. The child had stolen some valuable old objects from a national museum. His sympathy still lay with her - juvenile hall over federal prosecution and lifetime sentences, surely? - but the details left him flabbergasted. She had no family to feed. She was a beggar, desperate for money probably, but with skills that let her tiptoe past lasers and giant guards to reach priceless jewels? It was incredible. Disguised her scent with a homemade spray found to contain one part fur musk and two parts lemon juice. She'd even knocked out the security cameras before accessing the museum, but no one had found the computer. The jewels had been discovered in a trash can three blocks down. Dark Steps had not confessed (lawyer representation was not a thing for felons on Wolflong) and was pleading innocent. The typist's records showed that the girl was intelligent and quiet, but her story couldn't be confirmed by anybody. She said that she'd yes, accessed the museum, but stolen nothing, it was just for fun, and that Wolfers were idiots. It hadn't played well with the majority of the jury.

Time to prove her innocence. Time for plan B.

Ten hit the lever and the TARDIS groaned energetically in response. Sure, he didn't know if she was actually innocent. It seemed a shame to imprison a girl for a life-sentence without absolute proof, though. Especially when the said girl was a genius. He needed to know more about her. When the TARDIS stopped humming he stepped out, onto a rain-washed street, and immediately received a slush-ball to the face.

"Oh my gosh!"

He heard scared voices fade into the distance along with the sound of running feet. When Ten had finished clawing the slush from his eyeballs he peered after his assailants. Little kids. Probably trying to throw at each other. Hadn't expected a giant blue box to materialize in their way. This also meant he was on the right track. Street urchins.

Ten turned around and began to slosh through the muddy snow. It was dark, with only a few lamps lighting up the street corners and a couple of miserable vendors standing around. A Vunderwolf loomed nearby in the darkness as it pulled a gigantic carriage over the cobblestones. The Doctor winced and flung himself around it, heading under the streetside canopy to shelter from the rain. Then he saw it again, almost ran into it, in fact. He looked straight up into its gigantic bald head and found its pits of eyes staring emotionlessly into his. The thin dark suit smelled clean and dry.

The Doctor jerked backwards in shock, and forgot. He looked in surprise at his screwdriver. For some reason it was now in his hand, his finger pressing the trigger. What? He pocketed it. He needed to get going.

The Gaylight Private Museum soon loomed up at it, black and brick-y and huge in the night. Its sloping roof, three stories above his head, still protected him from the rain. He leaned against the wall of the dumpsters opposite the Museum, and waited for the kid to show up. So he was shocked, and nearly jumped into a trash can, when Dark Steps emerged from the other side of the dumpsters and dashed silently across the street. She hadn't even seen him. She seemed to be waiting for something, standing outside the huge mahogany doors. Then a red light lit up in her palm and she heaved one of the doors open with a small grunt. Ten watched in amazement.

How? What was that red light?

Ten rapidly returned to the TARDIS and piloted it inside the museum and back in time a few minutes to be able to see the kid come in. Invisibility button pressed. He scratched his chin thoughtfully. Couldn't go outside because the cameras would pick him up. He flurried around the console and dragged the monitor around. It showed the museum's interior in a grainy black and white. Tapping it hard twice cleared up the screen.

Dark Steps appeared in the museum, running in on noiseless feet. She immediately slowed down and Ten caught his breath to study her face. She had large eyes with that expression of hardness he'd earlier noted and stringy dirty braids. Pale and a skinny, malnourished frame. Biological scan results appeared on the console below, but the Doctor didn't notice. His notifications were on Do Not Disturb.

Lasers were sweeping periodically across the entrance corridor. They were gigantic swathes and for a moment the Doctor was petrified watching the kid as she bounced on the balls of her feet, a few inches in front of the first laser's range. A second after its back tip swept across the tiles another laser was slicing down after it. And she was going through this?

The girl went through it. "That girl," Ten said in disbelief.

The Doctor could not believe his eyes as she contorted her way through the twenty-foot corridor. Not a laser touched her, though in the ten second span he was sure fifty times that the red light had frozen her. Then she went through a second pair of already-opened double doors. Ten hunted her out eagerly on his monitor. Two gigantic Wolfer guards, dressed in ceremonial silver armor and bearing gigantic staffs, waited behind gigantic curtains (and then the artifact room beyond), not seeing the girl yet. Ten did not see her yet, either, until the screen tracked a slight motion shaking one of the curtains.

Her light body, hair swinging, was perched on one of the ceiling beams. The rest of the ceiling was relatively smooth with angles of marble forming an arc and a few skinny beams a ten-foot leap away. Dark Steps waited for a moment; Ten thought she was hesitating; then when the light was brightest behind the double doors she hurtled off the beam and landed, catlike — or wolf like — on the closest beam. Behind the gigantic guards. Over the artifact room. The floor was twenty feet under her. She rolled off the beam, hands clinging for a single moment, and dropped noiselessly. The Doctor realized he'd been holding his breath.

Now Dark Steps was wandering around the exhibits, peering across red velvet ropes and into glass boxes perched on display columns. But the display of honor, a bright large necklace of ancient delicate jewels rumored to possess magical qualities and a prized relic of the Gaylight Wolfers, sat in the very center of the room and caught her attention almost right from the start. Very valuable, priceless to the Gaylighters. Ten leaned forward in concentration, eyebrows intensely bent.

Dark Steps leaned forward and held her hands out across the dividing rope. Her fingers danced in the air above the glass. If she touched the glass, undoubtedly an alarm would go off.

The gigantic Wolfer guards still didn't notice.

The Doctor waited for her hand to touch the glass.

Then she peeled backwards, glancing stealthily at the guards, before loping past the exhibit. The Doctor prepped the TARDIS for following her and dragged the monitor around with his free hand to keep an eye on it. She was taking a side corridor.

The time caught his eye. It was 13:55. In seven minutes she would be apprehended.

She hadn't touched the jewels. "Good girl," the Doctor said out loud, almost startling himself. "So who took those jewels?"

He hesitated for a moment, keeping his eyes on the monitor. Just two guards standing somberly. Then they flinched. The Doctor blinked. What? He had seen what happened … no, they just flinched. At the same time. Then Ten saw those suited aliens again and his mouth dropped open.

He remembered them! He had seen them before!

At least ten of them were standing in front of the exhibit in a circle, their gigantic meaty hands pointed toward the jewels.

Then the Doctor looked down, trying to find his biological scanner feedback, but it was on the other side of the console now. And he forgot.

What am I still doing here?

He hit the lever and the TARDIS wheezed out of corporeal existence.

"So," Ten said out loud to himself, "I know she's innocent."

He was standing in the men's room, eyes fixed on the mirror while he washed his hands. He was about to continue but then the door banged open and a Wolfer slouched in, so he was forced to stop.

So, he thought, I know she did not take the jewels. The jewels were stolen between 13:55 and 14:02, at which point she was apprehended, but she did not take the jewels.

After a brief crash course during court session, from the museum historian, the entire jury had learned the jewels' significance. The necklace, named Hiyl Pashpawm, was reported to be a relic of Alphag Uhruh, the demigod son of Alpha Bubumbum, god of the Moon Gadubum, Wolflong's second largest of five principal moons, which translated into Moon Gaylight. It was said to grant the wearer the good luck of the god and the strength of the son. Other rumors stated that it had even greater powers, that were kept a secret by the Gaylighters. This was true, but its being true was not common knowledge. The Doctor had learned it on his previous visit and then Longtooth's indiscretion had all but confirmed it.

The faucet shut off automatically. The Doctor headed outside and left the door swinging loudly shut behind him. This was the final session before the jurors met for discussion. The final verdict. The child was innocent, but Ten knew most of his fellow jurors believed otherwise. Letting this girl go to jail falsely was an anathema to him. Something about her tribulations spoke to him, maybe because it reminded him of another lawless urchin defying authorities — specifically, him.

The trial resumed in few minutes so he made his way back to the courtroom. He had gotten to see Dark Steps in the last session, when she had come out to once again give her account of events. She had seemed quiet but not despondent and not even snarky, just truthful.

Whamp. Oops. "Excuse me!" River spluttered. Then she realized it was him, and her face changed for an instant before she had her emotions under control. Ten rubbed his nose. He'd run straight into her. They were standing outside the courtroom, in which the jury currently was assembling in anticipation.

"How are you?" Ten asked gingerly. He'd felt bad about how he had treated her last time though he had by no means forgiven her.

"Good. Cooled off then?" River responded, looking at him keenly.

"I guess so," he said tightly.

They stood awkwardly for a few moments.

The silence crept up between them. It was full of anxiety over things to come and things that had happened.

"So post-Asgard, then?" Ten asked.

"No," River said. "Asgard? Lovely planet. Spoilers. I love the suit."

She said the word so easily. It was her word, he thought. Never again would he hear it without thinking of her.

"Most do."

"So who are you traveling with now, Doctor?" she asked softly.

"No one," Ten said abruptly. "No one right now."

Her eyes, trimmed with mascara, vivid and intense, with crow's feet at the corners, looked into his. For the first time he found it difficult to look at her. The last time he had seen her face they had been angry. On Asgard they had been angry. And then, in the Library, she had not been angry. Just desperately resolved. But oh so familiarly she looked at him. He found himself thinking of their picnic. That was the only time they'd spent relaxed together, out of danger, in comfort, and the first time he had enjoyed her company so fully that for once her impending doom and the imprecations of their futures had been forgotten.

He realized she was asking if he was alright. "Of course," he said brittlely.

"You know, Doctor, at some point you will need to start trusting me," she said.

"I'm fine."

River studied his face. She looked sad again. This made the Doctor feel distanced from her. She knew more than he did. They were not quite equals.

"Are you still traveling with Donna?" she asked suddenly.

"I just left her at home." To keep his voice from cracking he whispered it. A few Wolfers passed by them into the courtroom and they slouched against the wall. It was nearly time for court to resume.

"I'm sorry," River began. "I know it must be hard for you."

Why was she trying to be so personal? But something in her spoke of familiarity. "I'm sorry how I spoke to you, Professor. But I just let Donna protect me, and you clearly know how how that went. So you must know why you need to stay clear."

"I understand how you feel," she said simply. Ten noticed that she didn't acquiesce. He felt the need to explain himself to her. "River, it's just that I can't let people do these things. I am supposed to help people, not let them get hurt, for me especially."

"I know. I understand," she murmured. "I was just warning you. People are looking for you here. Like I said, this" — she silenced herself as a bushy-furred Wolfer passed into the courtroom — "this government is said to be under control, from the inside."

"Where did you hear that? How do you know?" Ten asked her quietly.

"I pick up things," she said calmly.

"No, how do you know?" He wasn't playing this game.

"I'll tell you later," she stated forcibly.

"And give you time to invent a lie?" he whispered.

"Isn't that more of your thing?" she breathed back.

A tingle ran up the back of his neck. "Maybe."

"So what is your stance on the court case?" she asked abruptly and broke the mood. Ten lifted his head and glanced over his shoulder before saying quietly, "Professor, I know she's innocent."

"You can call me River," she requested. "How?"

"I went and watched. River, she didn't do it. Her account is true. Didn't you think of verifying it with your manipulator?" His last question carried an accusatory edge.

"Of course I did. Doctor, you must vote against her," River said urgently.

Ten stared at her in astonishment. "What?"

"She cannot go free."

"She might be convicted for life," the Doctor said, struggling to understand. "I didn't think you were like this. Why would you let her go to prison? She's an innocent child!"

"You must vote for her to imprisoned —"

"No! What are you —"

"You have to —"

"NO what are you —"

"You have to —"

They were caught up in a tide of jurors pushing them into the courtroom. The Doctor snatched away from her and caught one last glimpse of her urgent face. He was bewildered and angry. He had just been pouring out his soul to, to this woman who was trying to send a girl to jail for life, and wouldn't tell him anything — His hearts were pounding as he flew up the steps and took his spot among the chairs. He caught a lot of strange looks but he was focused on River's golden head across the auditorium. She was staring down at the judge box, but as he stared her head turned and she met his glare. She shook her head rapidly.

You haven't earned my trust, he wanted to say.

She had died for him and knew his name. No, no, he didn't owe this to her. This girl's future —

A dramatic hush fell on the courtroom and the room went dark except for a light on the stage below. A girl was ushered out on the stage, dressed in a white shift that emphasized her vulnerability next to the gigantic furred guards ringing her and standing around the courtroom. No one uttered a word, but the heavy breathing of Wolfers filled the room. Dark Steps was bound in chains.

"Case details," bellowed the Wolfer in the judge box.

A Wolfer stood up from behind the judge. It took the Doctor a moment to recognize Theta Harehunter. At the same time he noticed Dark Steps pale visibly.

The Wolfwoman was reading in a rough high voice. "File 911181. Defendant: Dark Steps. Species: human; true name, Melona Kovar. Status: born into the Brotherhood; unaccepted." She went on to read the names of the prosecutor and the details of the crime. The Doctor's attention wandered back to the girl, who looked more blank than he had ever seen her. Her eyes were shut? She appeared completely listless. He listened keenly to the accounts of the crime as they were read out. A mocking whine sprang up from the assembled when the child's testimony was read.

Theta Harehunter had finished. "Sentence options: pardon, life with parole, life without parole, or surrendered to Gaylight Pack."

Which, essentially, meant death.

Wow. Things had gotten more harsh around here.

Ten swiveled his head to look at River. She knew all this, but she insisted on him voting against the girl. Was she really this terrible?

The judge raised his black nose. "Jurors, your decision."

"Let us convene in the jury room," Theta bellowed.

In a mass movement the jurors rose, robes scraping the chairs and conversation breaking loudly. Ten caught a glimpse of Theta's pinched expression and Melona's pale face. For a moment it betrayed true terror and the Doctor stared in astonishment. Then she looked away from the door and she blinked and squinted, looking expressionless again.

The Doctor filed into the juror's room with the other thirty. He made a point of sitting as far away from River as possible. A deep anger was welling up in him and an even deeper determination.

"Let us come to a decision," Theta Harehunter announced, standing at the head of the table. Her golden fur swished and wood groaned as she sat in a chair slightly higher than the rest of theirs. "We have four options. Is any discussion necessary?"

"Yes," Ten proclaimed, sitting up in his seat, his pulse beating loudly in his ears.

"No," Longtooth snarled from across from him.

"No, let's vote," barked multiple throats.

"We need to consider!" the Doctor said desperately

"No we don't," whined a short female.

"Looks like the majority are ready to vote," Theta imposed. "Sit down, Altravus, for you stand alone."

The Doctor's gaze sliced across River Song. She met his eyes inscrutably, but shook her head again. No, Doctor.

The Doctor pushed his seat out, filled with anger, and stood up. He hurried around the side of the table to a clear spot where he could command the attention of all the Wolfers, who were staring at him now. "Listen to yourselves! You are sentencing this girl who pleads innocent to life in prison, or death!" Blood pounded savagely in his eardrums. "This is not justice. And so help me I will not let it be. I am — prepared to shut this room down until we come to a correct decision." He stuffed his fists into his pockets and closed a hand around the sonic screwdriver. "She should be treated according to the laws of her people. This is too hasty a decision and you will have her blood on your hands —"

No one was listening to his spiel anymore. Even the Professor's eyes were focused on the table. His anger seemed ineffectual, and — a huge weight clamped down on his shoulder and he almost staggered. Wet breath breathed in his ear. "You embarrass yourself, Altravus. Sit down."

"You can't make me. I won't let her go to prison without a fair trial," Ten hissed back to Theta.

"The doors are wood," interrupted a voice. The whole table looked at River.

She shrugged. "It's just an Earth expression," she lied, but the Doctor retracted his hand. No locking the doors.

"Does that calm you down?" Theta Harehunter verified, pushing him away into the table so roughly that he hit it and keeled over. The Wolfers broke into low huh huh huhs — laughter, as he struggled for air. "Let us vote!"

They voted. Longtooth, Theta Harehunter, the little female, and the rest of the room voted to surrender the child to the Gaylight pack. The Doctor felt it like a kick in his gut. He saw Dark Steps's pallid horrified face, then it faded and was replaced with a brown-haired boy too terrified to look at the Time Vortex.

He voted for freedom. River Song abstained.

He was already formulating a plan.

"Dark Steps; Melona Kovar: you are now surrendered to the Gaylight pack for justice," the enormous judge pronounced. All the spirit drained from the child's face. Ten itched in his seat. River, across from him, was hidden in shadow. Theta Harehunter appeared satisfied.

Chains were draped across the slight form and the guards marched her out. As soon as the judge gave the signal of dismissal the Doctor sprang to his feet. He knew he had not a moment to lose, and he had more than one opponent. He lost sight of the Professor across the room momentarily then saw her struggling to make her way through the crowd. Their eyes met, blazing at each other, then the Doctor leaped over the seat and slid down the steps, coat flying up behind him. Wolfers cried out in surprise as he landed heavily on the floor. River was still stuck in the throng. Trying to maintain a casual facade, the Doctor smoothed his hair with a hand, waved at a few gaping Wolfers, and left the courtroom as calmly as he could. Then he took off running. Behind him, River and Theta Harehunter were taking action.

Ten sprinted down the hallway, attracting many looks as his coat flew behind him. He had no doubt that River was in hot pursuit. As soon as he burst into the freezing open sunlight the key was in his hand and glowing red. The TARDIS whummed into view just as River came crashing through the double doors.

"You have to stop!" she shouted, her hair flying around her face. Ten slammed through the doors, meeting her eyes one last time as he backed rapidly into the console room. He smashed down the lever and the TARDIS took off. On the monitor he caught a last look of her pelting down the street. Oh no. This was not happening!

Ten dragged the monitor around, breathing heavily, and started hitting buttons. The screen lit up with info. "Gaylight High Security Jail," he read out loud. He would have to go three days into the future, after Dark Steps had already suffered through a farce of a Gaylight trial and been imprisoned. A perfect map of the jail, with Melona's cell highlighted in green and the defenses in red, popped up. He slid a few levers and waited to materialize.

Except nothing happened. Then the TARDIS groaned alarmingly.

The lights began to flash red. The Doctor dashed around the console and hit the lever up before reading in disbelief what the screen said.

TARDIS PROOFED.

Ten swore.

The jail was TARDIS proofed? When was the last time he had tried to break in? Was he going to break in in his future? More importantly how did they have the technology to proof it? River Song!

She must have helped them proof it.

The Doctor redirected the TARDIS to land outside the jail, rather than in it. It was going to slow him down and risk tripping a hundred alarms, but hopefully they wouldn't be made out of wood! He felt angry. How dare she?

Snow was blowing in thick horizontal sheets, blasting the Doctor's hair and whipping his coat as he leaped into the blizzard. Cruel clouds masked the night sky and the freezing wet snow clobbered into him. But the jail was in front of him, barely visibly through the whisking snow. Ice-rimmed barbed wire rose thirty feet ringing the jail everywhere but the front door. The front door was his only choice. Fortunately they were made of heavy iron. He unlocked it with the screwdriver and hauled it opened, iron screaming and wind roaring.

It was markedly silent in the jail. For the moment he had tripped no defenses. Shadows made the lobby pitch black.

Ten stepped as lightly as he could across the heavy concrete. He used his screwdriver, glowing a light blue in the dark, to check what was next. The map popped up on the screwdriver's tiny screen. He read the data and proceeded with caution. Then hurled himself behind a corner because a guard was coming!

The guard seemed strangely confused and wandered right on by without smelling Ten. He waited to be sure the Wolfer was gone then peeked cautiously around the corner. The first row of cell blocks was ahead of him.

Then his mouth dropped when he saw the hallway.

Just like the museum, red lasers were sweeping across it. Not thick ones.

Huge ones.

In fact, the entire corridor was bathed in red light that blinked on and off rhythmically. Ten gritted his teeth. To turn it off would prevent his flesh from frying off his bones. To turn it off would also undoubtedly alert somebody. His screwdriver whined. Somebody was coming. He had to act fast.

The Doctor aimed his screwdriver with both hands at the laser output.

The red light went off in a loud shower of sparks. Now he was really running out of time.

He took off running, fast and noiseless, down the hall.

The Doctor turned around corners, choosing at T's, pausing to check his screwdriver's data. He triggered more than one motion sensor and was forced to lock several iron doors before he ran straight into a Wolfer's iron-armored chest.

"Where you think you're going?" growled a deep guttural Gaylight accent.

"Now let's be reasonable," the Doctor began, backing up. A laser he had deactivated was a few feet back. It was broken beyond repair. Maybe …

"There's nowhere to hide," threatened the massive wolf.

"You know, there's really not," the Doctor said conversationally, hearts beating like twin jackhammers. "But who said I wanted to hide?"

He activated the laser. It seared off the tips of his coat and separated him from the Wolfer.

"See you," Ten smiled, and waved.

As he took off running he heard behind him an enormous howl echo through the halls.

Sheer excitement coupled with purpose carried the Doctor down flights of steps descending in switchbacks. He was nearly there. Hearts pounding … he turned a corner, shut off a final laser, and proceeded quietly.

A yellow light indicated that the cell at the end of the hall was occupied. A small screen embedded into the wall by the door bore the picture and name of the captive within. He held his breath and, using both hands to point the sonic, unlocked the door. The hydraulics hissed and steamy white gas streamed out from both sides. Then the door hissed open. Ten flattened himself to the wall beside it.

The Doctor, breath held, slowly inched around the doorframe.

The cell at first appeared utterly dark and he used his screwdriver to light it up. Its blue light revealed only an empty room at first. Rudimentary toilet and pitcher of water on the floor. The Doctor turned a slow 360 on his heel and froze when his eyes came into contact with the cor in the corner.

Melona, her eyes huge in her tragic face, stared up at him.

"Are you Melona?" the Doctor asked calmly and quietly, lowering his screwdriver.

"I am Melona," said the girl.

"Alright, I'm here to rescue you," began the Doctor, "but—"

"I'm here to rescue you," repeated the girl.

"That's right, but —"

"Right."

Dread seized him. Not this old gag again. How many times had he fallen for it?

All of a sudden, the lights began to flash red and the ceiling lights lit up the halls. An overpoweringly loud siren filled the room from floor to ceiling. The Doctor initially clapped his hands over his ears, then reached out for the doorway. His hand pushed into a force field and he waved it in pain. Electroshock!

The Doctor held up his screwdriver, rapidly taking readings as his pulse sped up. He spun around and faced Melona, striding forward to touch the girl. His hand passed straight through and he paused, staring in horror. It was a simulation. She was just a simulation. Green lasers suddenly shot across the cell, cutting off a further ten feet of space, confining the Doctor to the cot with the child. Her figure cut in and out.

"Little help, please," Ten hollered, standing up as the cot shook under him. The simulation disappeared and came back when the bed restabilized. He began to run his hands along the smooth metal surface of the ceiling, searching for cracks or nails.

"Help," repeated Melona dreamily.

The Doctor jabbed his screwdriver into the security camera lens, which dilated then shrank into a tiny circle. "This is an injustice and I am not going to let you kill a little girl! I will take this to the Shadow Proclamation if necessary!"

"This is an injustice," Melona echoed.

The Doctor leaped off the cot. The green lasers blazed at his back and he looked the simulation straight in the eyes, which looked back at him, unfocused. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Melona, I swear to you, I won't let you die."

"You die," Melona's simulation said simply.

"Doctor!"

Ten rolled to his feet and spun around, the green lasers frying off his coattips. "What are you doing here?"

"Rescuing you," River yelled back. The green light lit up her face in a demonic way as she aimed a shovel-shaped thing at the laser output. A burst of green sparks lit up her hair and stung the Doctor in the face as she strode through.

"We have to find the little girl!" Ten said urgently into her face.

"No time," River hollered. "The Wolfers are on their way. Listen!" She gestured furiously at the doorway. The Doctor focused and heard the thundering of footsteps coming toward them, coupled with slobbering breath.

"River!" Ten pushed her back to look her in the eyes. He seized her arm. "Where's Melona?"

"The simulation is just the Gaylighters' way of detaining intruders. We have to get out of here!" She gripped him back as the first Wolfer peeled around the side of the door, spit flying from open jaws. She hit a button on the vortex manipulater on her wrist and she and Ten dematerialized in a flying white pixels as the Wolfer came charging through the door.

"I thought it was her," was the first thing the Doctor said, numbly, dropping to his knees. Snow came flying down.

"I'm sorry, Doctor," came River's reply, as she inspected her manipulator. Something dropped to the snow beside him, from her hand. It was a plastic photo.

Ten lifted his eyes. It was a picture of a grave. The line in the tombstone read Melona Kovar: Dark Steps

Underneath, another line: Of the Brotherehood.

"What does this mean?" Ten asked raggedly, looking up.

"It means," River answered briskly, keeping her eyes focused on the manipulator screen, "that she was adopted into the Brotherhood, post-mortem, when found innocent of the crimes." River's voice softened and she turned to face the Doctor, eyes compassionate. "They liked her for her pluck and courage."

"Her pluck and courage?" The Doctor combed his fingers through his hair. "River, why would you do this?"

"Do what?" River knelt beside him, her eyes focused on the snow.

"Let her be killed," the Doctor whispered. He found his strength and tried to meet her eyes, but they were still on the ground. "Why would you do this?"

"Doctor, you have to accept that I know things you don't."

There it was.

She knew more than he did. He did not know her as well as he yet would. This was a different dynamic than his companions. All of them, he had been their guide, telling them what was going on, launching into uninterrupted explanations. But River was different. She bounced back and explained things to him. She did not need to be introduced to him. She had guided him. For the first time, hearts still racing, laser light dancing behind his eyes, snow in his hair, he unconsciously accepted that they were equals. She met his eyes.

Just hold on!

You and me.

One last run.

"Just explain it to me," he argued, acting on his new decision.

"I can't," she said softly. "Doctor, I am so sorry. You just need to trust me enough to go with my judgment now."

The word why almost left his tongue. Then he remembered why.

He stood and offered his hand to her. She took it and he pulled her upright. Snow flecked her face and the lashes above the green eyes.

"I'm assuming you don't need a ride out," the Doctor offered.

"No. Don't you?" she responded.

"Oh! Yes, I do. Can you get me back?"

"No need. She's right here."

"You can fly the TARDIS?" Ten exclaimed, joining her. The TARDIS's blue lights glowed at them from the top of a snowy hill above them. Dark pines rose up on the mountains above, beneath a night sky shedding thousands of snowflakes.

"Yes, I can," River said, turning, to view the landscape below. The Doctor turned with her. They stood on the slope of the snow-blanketed hill, and it fell away in a steep series of foothills into a gorgeous valley ringed by cruel cliffs and pine trees. But up from the valley glowed millions of golden lights and shining buildings.

"So where did you last see me, River?" Ten asked, tentatively breaking the snow-muffled silence.

"Spoilers," she reminded him. "You're too young yet."

"Can you at least tell me how you know how to fly the TARDIS?" he asked.

"You taught me," she said softly. "I mean, I figured it out on my own. You refined my technique."

"Right," he said awkwardly. This River was less chatty or flirty than he had ever seen her.

"Well, see you around, Doctor," she said haltingly, reaching for her vortex manipulator. The Doctor, watching her, was gripped by a strange emotion and reached for her arm before she could push any buttons. He let go when she looked up at him, eyes wide.

"When will I see you next?" he asked awkwardly.

"When I call, I expect," she told him, a trace of her old flirty smile on her face, but it went away quickly. Her eyes still looked sad. "See you around, Doctor."

A flash of light, and she was gone. The snow where she had stood melted into a pool. Ten looked down at where the puddle was seeping into his shoes and stepped back, mind still not quite present as he worked through his thoughts. For some reason, though when he went over the course of events he felt undeniably like he had tried to do the right thing, he still felt in the wrong. And he felt bad that River seemed so sad. Why was she not happy? Or joking? Or laughing?

At the same time he was pleased to have seen her but also strangely unhappy that she was unhappy, and frustrated, too. She just looked at him with such mournfulness in her eyes.

The Doctor waded up to his TARDIS and dematerialized.

In a dungeon, a few miles away from the valley and miles underground, underneath an ancient fortress, in a cold amphitheater made of stone embedded with bones and scratched up with all the desperate marks of those that had been entombed within, a single child with brown hair and white face stood with her chin up and tears running down her face.

A gigantic, black figure stirred from the highest throne at the other end of the room.

"How do you explain yourself?"

The voice was not from the black figure. It was a woman's sultry voice.

"I did not realize it was him," quavered Theta Harehunter. She was wrapped in chains on a dias in front of the first level of stone seats.

"Unacceptable," spat a Wolfer shrouded in shadow.

"Unacceptable," stated the sultry voice. "You performed a crucial service for us, Theta Harehunter, but with this you have nearly undone its worth."

Theta cried out, "I'm sorry, I —"

"Who believes that she should be punished?" went on the voice, suddenly venomous. Suddenly the girl's eyes shone and she lifted her face.

"Aye," intoned a deep-voiced Wolfer.

"Aye," echoed another.

"Aye," came an overlapping chorus.

"The ayes have it," Kovarian said magnanimously. "Now for the subject of you.You have done well, Melody. And you have seen the target?"

"I saw the target," Melody said, subdued.

"Did not betray your cover name?"

"I didn't." Her voice squeaked.

"Excellent," Kovarian purred. "Take her away. Make sure she has his face memorized. It's nearly time for her to return."

Two of the Silence broke away from the line ringing the walls of the dungeon. Melody turned with them and began to walk towards the door, from which came a white light she associated with space ships and studying. Her bare feet slapped the dank puddles on the floor, scattering her white dress with droplets and making noise, but not enough. Her face peeked over her shoulder, but all she could see was the hunched back of Theta Harehunter. When the gigantic black figure started to move she quickly looked straight ahead and followed the Silence out as fast as she could, but not fast or loud enough to beat the screams out the door.