For Leppard, this takes place in 1990. For the Doctor, it's after the 2009 special The Waters of Mars.
Chapter Two
Count the Shadows
After a few minutes, Joe voiced something that had been bothering him: "What was that outside the door, Doctor?"
"Hhmm?" The messy-haired Time Lord glanced up from the console, his gaze darkening as Joe's question sank in. "That was a Dalek." He spat out the word with so much hatred that Joe and the other Leppards found themselves inching to the opposite side of the console, as far away from the strange alien as they could get. "They murdered my people in the war, the Last Great Time War. On the outside they look like giant pepper pots, but don't let that fool you; the actual creature is inside. They're mutations; the only emotion they know is hate. The Daleks see themselves as the supreme race in the universe; any living thing that is not a Dalek is exterminated. All they know how to do is hate and kill; you're lucky I was there."
Joe suddenly felt nauseous. Sav paled. The singer said, "You're saying we would be dead."
"Yeah. Thank me later." The Doctor focused on the console with such intensity that Joe wondered if he'd forgotten they were there.
It was Sav, being the sensitive one, who picked up on key phrases: "When you said they murdered your people . . ."
"I'm not just a Time Lord," the Doctor said. "I'm the last of the Time Lords. And they just keep on surviving, never mind the fact the Time War is stuck behind a Time Lock." His voice had turned incredibly bitter. "My planet was destroyed for nothing."
"We're sorry, mate," Rick said softly after a long minute of silence.
When he next looked up at the band, the Doctor's brown eyes had softened and a smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, I know. 'S not your fault. You weren't there." He pulled at something on the console—from this angle, Joe couldn't tell what it was—and the column was no longer glowing green "Here we are, wherever or whenever here is."
"You're saying you don't know where we are?" Joe said incredulously.
The Doctor nervously ran a hand through the hair at the back of his head, looking sheepish. "I set the coordinates for New Earth, but since the TARDIS has a habit of taking myself and former companions to other times and places than intended, we could be on Skaro or Raxacoricofallapatorius for all I know. Or Clom, the twin planet of Raxacoricofallapataorius. It's not my fault."
Phil, who was now studying the console, fingers twitching like he wanted to start touching and messing with various controls, commented, "I'm guessing you had to take a test to fly this thing?"
"Yep. I failed it." The Doctor was heading into a smaller room off the main one the Leppards were in.
"That makes me feel so much better," Joe muttered sarcastically, choosing to ignore his bandmates' laughter.
Seconds later, the Doctor reappeared. He'd changed out of the jeans and T-shirt to the brown pinstriped suit Joe had first seen him in, but he still had on the converse and was shrugging on a tan trenchcoat. Phil, Steve, and Sav eyed him with raised eyebrows. (Then again, Joe figured, their fashion sense wasn't much better.)
"So, old girl," the Doctor said to apparently no one in particular, "you didn't drop us on Skaro or Raxacoricofallapataorius, did you?"
Lights flickered as the room hummed indignantly.
"What was that?" Rick and Steve said in unison.
"The TARDIS," the Doctor replied, heading for the outer doors. "She's alive and sentient, did I not mention that?" He opened one of the doors and stuck his head out. "Huh. Look's like we've landed on a space station instead of New Earth. Oh well." He shrugged, turned his head in the direction of the band. "Allons-y!"
"Huh?"
"It's French. Means 'Let's go.' Now, are you coming, or do you want to stay here in the TARDIS?"
Not surprisingly, the Terror Twins were the first band members outside the TARDIS. Phil's voice carried to the others: "You've got to come see this!"
Exchanging glances, the other three members stepped out of the police box. The Doctor took up the rear, shutting the doors behind him. There was a faint click as the doors locked.
That can't be good, Joe thought uneasily, but his uneasiness vanished when he stopped and looked around. Yes, they were in a space station. A space station.
"I've been here before," the Doctor said, studying the walls of the room they'd walked into. "This is Satellite Five. If we can just find an observation deck . . ." He suddenly took off. The Lepps stood stunned for a second before following.
Joe couldn't help looking around as they walked through the space station, and he glimpsed the others doing the same. So far, it didn't seem like there was anyone on board except for them.
"Where is everyone?" he asked the Doctor.
"What do you mean by 'everyone'?" was the reply.
"People. Humans. Why, what do you mean?"
"Aliens," was the matter-of-fact response.
Def Leppard exchanged looks before shrugging and deciding to leave it at that.
"Ah, here we are," the Doctor said at length, stopping in a large rectangular room with a window taking up the entire opposite wall. "Joe, Sav, Steve, Rick, Phil, you are currently looking at the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire in the year . . . 200100, if my time sense is right—and it is." He frowned. "We should have seen some people by now, though. So, where are they?"
Joe had tuned him out by now. He was too busy staring out the window at the blue-and-green-and-white planet below. "Blimey," he breathed. "It's . . ."
"Earth," Sav murmured, eyes wide. Rick's boyish face was alight with awe, and as for the Terror Twins . . . for once, Phil and Steve were speechless. (Joe was grateful—that wasn't something that happened very often.)
They had all seen the images from satellites and probes in their own time, of course, but seeing their home planet like this was something totally different. They were viewing Earth through their own eyes. From space.
Maybe he was dreaming. There was no way this could be real.
"Oh, it's real," the Doctor murmured from behind him. Joe swung 'round, eyes questioning.
"Quite a few of my companions have had the same reaction, don't worry."
Joe's green eyes narrowed. "And what happened to them?"
Those dark eyes were pained. "One's alive but trapped in a parallel universe; one has had her memory wiped of me, she can't remember me or she'll die; and the other is married and working for UNIT. This is in the future for you—early twenty-first century. I've been on my own for a while now. The Lonely God, some call me." There was the faintest hint of a smile. "Dunno why they call me that. I'd make a rubbish god."
Joe couldn't help cracking a smile at that. Despite the fact that his band had been kidnapped by this man and everyone back at the stadium was probably "exterminated" by now, he found that he liked the Doctor. It was almost impossible not to like him. Something about him just screamed that he was trustworthy and knew what he was doing.
"Anyway," the Doctor said briskly, turning away from the singer to address the rest of the band, "you lot are so concerned with your lives down there, dreaming about the stars, that you never consider that you'll expand out into space—into three other galaxies, in fact." He fell silent. When Joe managed to get a look at the Doctor's face, he saw it was furrowed in deep thought. "By this time period, Satellite Five should be crawling with Homo sapiens and other alien species. So where are they?"
The Time Lord abruptly turned on his heel and walked out of the room, the five Leppards hot on his heels.
"Doctor," said Rick nervously, "does it seem darker in here than it was before, or is it just me?"
The alien skidded to a halt. "You're right," he said, eyes flicking around. "Do yourselves a favor, yeah? Stay out of the shadows. And whatever you do, don't let your shadows cross." The Doctor went into a brisk walk, paused at the entrance to the next room, and bit out something in a lyrical language that Joe didn't recognize.
"What is it?" the singer asked, trying to look over the Doctor's shoulder. He caught a glimpse of stripped bones, but that was it.
"I think we found out why there's no one on board," the Doctor said. (Was that fear in his voice? No, more like grim realization.) "Vashta Nerada."
"Sorry, what?" said Phil.
"They're the piranhas of the air. Most planets have them, but only in small clusters. The only other time I've encountered a swarm like this was in the Library. That's not darkness, and these aren't shadows. They're swarms of Vashta Nerada—literally, the shadows that melt the flesh."
"'Most planets,'" Sav repeated, horrified. "They're on Earth, too?"
"Yes. Anywhere there's meat there's Vashta Nerada. You can see them sometimes—the dust motes in sunbeams."
"Are they in every shadow?" Steve asked.
"No, but any shadow can become infested. So count the shadows. If you have two . . . I'm sorry, so, so sorry, but there's nothing I can do for you."
"So what do we do?" Joe asked.
The Doctor tilted his head. "Daleks, aim for the eyestalk; Weeping Angels, don't blink; Nestene Consciousness, anti-plastic; Vashta Nerada, run." He looked over his shoulder at the band. "Just run."
"Sounds good to me," Phil muttered.
The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and set it to scan. After a few minutes he said, "We're okay. The swarm's moved."
Where is it? Joe wondered nervously. It took a lot to make him scared, but this was reawakening an ancient fear of the dark. While he wasn't running-around-screaming-terrified, he was nervous.
The Doctor was already moving forward, making sure to stay out of the shadows. Joe and company did the same.
"Where are we going?" the singer asked.
"Good question. Floor 495, maybe? How's that sound?"
"Um . . ."
"Brilliant!"
Sav, who had been looking back, gulped. "Um, Doctor?"
"Yes?"
"I'm guessing it's not normal for lights to go out one by one."
"No, it's not. RUN!"
The band of five bolted, following the Time Lord (he knew this place better than they did, after all). They stopped in front of a lift—They have lifts on space stations? SERIOUSLY?!—and the doors slid open with a little help from the sonic screwdriver. All six of them piled in, the doors closed, and they were heading up.
"Why didn't we just go back to the TARDIS?" Sav wondered out loud.
"Because now I'm curious," said the Doctor. "In all the other times I've been here, there hasn't been any Vashta Nerada. So, how did they get here?"
"Hitched a ride, maybe," Joe suggested with a shrug.
The Doctor smiled at him. "I knew I liked you, Joe Elliott. Good suggestion." He fished around in his pocket and pulled out a pair of black-framed glasses. After slipping them on, he met the Leppards' open stares. "What? These are my brainy specs."
"You probably just wear them to make you look clever," Joe scoffed.
"Well, there is that, yeah."
Rick had to cover his mouth to muffle his snort of laughter. The others smirked.
Then the doors opened and they stepped out into a dimly lit room.
"Here we go, everyone. Torches." The Doctor pulled out five torches from his pockets and handed one to each Leppard.
"How—" Sav started.
"They're bigger on the inside. Don't say anything." This last was said in a warning tone to the Terror Twins, both of whom were wearing that smart-alecky look Joe was so familiar with. The Doctor, meanwhile, had pulled out his own torch and was shining it round the room. Joe flinched in surprise when he saw that it was a set for a TV show.
"What is this floor?" he asked.
"Well, if I remember right, this was the floor for game shows. Basically, in this time period, Satellite Five is like a big broadcasting studio. News, games, dramas, you name it, it's here. This particular area is the set for The Weakest Link. I hated that robot. Captain Jack liked it. Mind you, it did come in handy defeating Daleks . . ."
"Um, Doctor?" Rick prompted. "The Vashta Nerada?"
"Oh, right! Stay in the light, you lot. Don't, I repeat, don't stray into the shadows." Again, he pulled out the sonic screwdriver and scanned the room. "Oooh, we've got a live one. Anybody have any chicken legs on them?"
They just looked at him blankly.
"Blimey. Where's River Song when I— Oh, right, in the Library's computer. That was rude of me, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, a bit," Joe said.
"Rude and not ginger, that's me. Why can't I ever be ginger? I've always wanted to be ginger."
Sav sent Joe a look that said, Is he for real?
Unfortunately, I think so.
We're doomed.
No kidding.
Amazing how they could say all that without speaking.
"Anyway!" The Doctor slowly backed away. "Let's just . . . head back to the lift and TARDIS, shall we?"
"Whatever happened to wanting to find out how they got here?"
"Like I said: Vashta Nerada—run."
"Coward."
"Oi! I'd take coward over killer any day, thanks."
Phil's head tilted to the left as he considered it. "Yeah, me, too."
"Besides, I make it a point to keep my companions safe. You'll be safer in the TARDIS."
"And what about you?" Steve challenged.
The Doctor whirled around, dark brown eyes stormy. Instinctively the band shrank back, sensing that this was not someone you wanted to mess with. "Do what I say exactly when I say it if you want to live, because right now you should be scared. Very scared." His left hand was rummaging in his coat pockets again. He pulled out a strip of meat and tossed it toward the shadows. It was gone in milliseconds.
It had only made it a couple yards before vanishing.
"Lift. Now!" the Doctor barked.
There were no questions this time. Wordlessly, the band and the Time Lord crammed inside the lift. Within a minute, they were back on the same floor that they had started on.
"TARDIS. Go. Run. Now," the Doctor ordered.
"But—" Steve started to protest.
"Do it!"
Joe hated feeling helpless, but he followed the Doctor's orders and ran. (Besides, he didn't really want to die far into the future. None of them wanted to die anytime soon, except maybe— No, he wouldn't let himself think about that, about Steve's drinking problem, how it was steadily getting worse.)
They made it inside the TARDIS and turned back, but the doors slammed shut and locked.
"No!" The hoarse cry didn't even sound like Joe's voice. He pounded on the TARDIS doors. "We've got to help him!"
The doors stubbornly remained locked. While she wanted to help her thief, the TARDIS also wanted his companions to be safe. Besides, she liked this strange group and sensed that they would be good for her thief. He'd lost it for weeks after visiting that red planet, declared himself above the laws of time—the Time Lord Victorious. No more of that, thank you. She'd had enough; and besides, one lonely Time Lord was dangerous enough. Add in his recent madness . . . He needed someone to stop him.
"Joe."
Sav's soft voice and hand resting gently on his shoulder reminded Joe that his bandmates, his best friends, were here with him.
He just hoped the Doctor would make it out alive.
-oOo-
The Doctor had moved to the observation deck where there was plenty of natural light. Unfortunately, this also meant that the only shadow in the room belonged to him—unless you counted the ones cast by the marble steps.
Flashing back to the Library and the mysterious River Song didn't help anything either. Their first conversation—"Oh, don't tell me you're archaeologists." "Got a problem with archaeologists?" "I'm a time traveler. I point and laugh at archaeologists."—didn't seem as funny when he remembered how she had sacrificed herself to save him, Donna, and the rest of her team, or when he stopped to consider her relationship with his future self (and to be honest, that scared him).
Maybe he really should just go. Get in the TARDIS and hope the swarm found somewhere else to live. After all, there wasn't any fresh meat anymore . . . except for him. And it wasn't like they could get inside his timeship. The assembled hordes of Ghangus Kong couldn't break through those doors—he should know; they'd tried.
Sometimes, he really hated his curious nature. He just couldn't leave stuff alone, always had to be in the thick of things. The one time he'd tried altering a fixed point, it had disastrous consequences.
Then came the knocks.
One.
Two.
Three.
"Three knocks is all you're getting!" he spat, lunging for the door. It slid open to reveal a skeleton inside a spacesuit—an entire swarm of Vashta Nerada inhabiting the suit, controlling it. It moved forward with jerky, zombie-like movements, and again the Doctor recalled all too vividly his time with these creatures in the Library when they had picked off members of the archaeologist expedition team.
His body darted around the grotesque puppet before his brain even registered that he was moving. Then he was running—always running. He sure did a lot of that; no wonder he was a skinny bloke this time round.
Voices played inside his mind. Other Dave: "Hey, who turned out the lights?" Miss Evangilista: "Where am I?" The cool female voice of a computer: "Donna Noble has left the Library. Donna Noble has been saved." They all added to his increasing fear. His twin hearts pounded in his chest, a mixture of adrenalin and terror making them beat faster, running through his veins.
He was running so fast that he ran right past the blue police box. Skidding to a halt, he turned back and jammed the key into the lock, turned it, opened the door, and slipped inside. The door swung shut behind him, the faint click reassuring him that they were safe—for now.
The Doctor opened his eyes—When had he closed them?—and saw the five Def Leppard members were looking extremely relieved that he was here with them.
"You made it," Rick said from his perch on the yellow jump seat.
"Yep. 'Sides, you need me to fly her. It's not like you'd figure out how to fly a TARDIS on your own."
"What about the Vashta Nerada?" Phil asked.
"They'll find another place. There's no more meat here for them to live off of."
"You're sure about that?" said Steve.
No. There was no way he was telling them that, of course. "Pretty sure."
Sav, meanwhile, was studying him. "Are you okay, Doc? You look pretty freaked out."
"Don't call me 'Doc,'" the Doctor grumbled. The only person he tolerated calling him that was Captain Jack Harkness—and he didn't even like Jack all that much. Meeting Sav's eyes, he said a bit louder, "I'm okay."
That, of course, was Time Lord-speak for "I'm not really okay" but Sav didn't push it, thank Gallifrey. The Doctor hated domestics.
He shrugged it off like he always did and flashed his usual grin. "So, now that you've seen the future, how about the past?"