Three
The Doctor had immediately taken his coat off and straightened his blue bowtie. He folded up the coat and placed it on the floor. Rory looked up and around. The ceiling of the underground passageway was very high, over thirty feet, he estimated, but the width was not quite even five feet. It was slightly claustrophobic, Rory decided, and looked down the passage. Not very far ahead, a twist in the passage led out of view. "What's down there?" he asked of Eepa, pointing.
Eepa began to pad down the tunnel on soft furry feet. "Our world," he said simply. "Or what is left of it. Once, we lived on the surface, in the snow and under the suns, but our planet was invaded by the ones who call themselves humans."
Amy and Rory looked confused and slightly indignant. The Doctor intervened. "Hello! I'm an impartial bystander this time. Eepa, do you mind if I tell it from here? My friends here are from the same species as your invaders, though, might I say, some of the nicer ones. Ponds, the humans who came to this planet, eleven hundred years after your time, were looking for another planet, preferably one with no native intelligent life forms. They stumbled across Niopheltaurus, and though it was a bit cold, they decided it would suit their needs."
"But you said…" Amy started.
"I know what I said, Pond, now hear me out." But the Doctor didn't have time to be heard out, because the passage suddenly made a sharp turn and opened up into a cavern of considerable size. Arranged like a lot of city blocks with four houses in each block, round semi-spheres about six or seven feet high and about the same circumference filled the cavern. It was eerily silent, like the whole place was holding its breath. The Doctor frowned. "Something's not right," he whispered. Eepa shook his head sadly.
"One of the children has died," the emperor said quietly, and began to walk through the rows of homes, the Doctor following with his head bowed. Amy and Rory, too, followed Eepa through the neat, deserted streets. Near the rear of the cavern, there were some buildings that were larger than the rest. Eepa stepped through a curtain of soft white fabric into the one on the far left, closely followed by the three travelers. It was set up like a sort of infirmary, with curtains set around the single room blocking off little squares which must have been beds. A single Squeak, who looked feminine, was emerging from behind one of the curtains. Upon seeing the visitors, she inclined her head silently. Eepa nodded at her. "Let the silence be broken, for the life too short has been mourned. What has happened since I went away, Keea?"
The other Squeak, whose name was apparently Keea, raised her head. "No more have come down with the illness, lord, but I am so sorry. Your daughter is close to death."
Eepa seemed visibly shocked. Then he blinked his huge brown eyes once and asked "And the others?"
"A few have worsened, and none have improved."
Rory glanced at the Doctor. His head was bowed, and Rory wasn't quite sure if there were tears in his ancient eyes, or if it was just a trick of the light. Rory felt like he had to do something. "Sorry, can I help?" he asked of everyone around him. Amy looked at him, startled, while the two Squeaks just gazed at him blankly. "I'm a nurse," he said in his defense, though he wasn't quite sure why he was defending himself.
The Doctor raised his head to respond to his companion. "I'm sure you could, Rory, but the thing is, we don't actually know what's wrong with them. Speaking of," he added, "I need to get some samples and then get back to the TaRDIS, if that's all right with you, Eepa. We have to figure out what's causing this."
"Of course you may, Doctor," Eepa responded immediately. "You are free to do anything that you believe will help us."
Rory was slightly annoyed. Seriously, this was always what happened. Every time they went anywhere, he would try to help, and then the Doctor actually would help, because people trusted him instinctively with their secrets. Of course, he trusted the Doctor and understood that he had been travelling for a thousand years before he had even met Rory and Amy, and so naturally he knew more about this saving the world thing. But still, it would be nice if someone turned to him for advice for once.
The Doctor had kept talking. "In that case," he said, "I would really like to see one of the children affected." Keea pulled aside one of the curtains hanging around a bed.
"She was one of the first to become ill," Keea said sadly. Rory, Amy, and the Doctor all moved in for a closer look. The Doctor obviously knew what to expect, because he did not show any sign of surprise or shock, just sorrow. But Amy and Rory both gasped when they saw the tiny Squeak child curled up in a ball on the snow white sheets.
For the Squeak was not white like Eepa and Keea, but her fur seemed to be stained a horrible dark green. She was trembling and sniffing a little. If Rory concentrated, he could hear the same tiny snuffles coming from behind the other curtains, and wondered why he hadn't heard them before. The Doctor had stepped forward and knelt down next to the small, short, square bed pressed against the wall. He reached out a hand to touch her, but seemed to think better of it. Rory thought he knew why. Even if the disease, or whatever it was, wasn't contagious cross-species, it was better to be safe than sorry.
The Doctor pulled a little white plastic box from a pocket inside his tan coat. How does he fit all that stuff in his coat? Rory wondered, not for the first time. The Doctor opened the box and pulled out an empty syringe. Rory felt Amy flinch next to him and he took her hand as the Doctor drew a sample of the Squeak girl's blood. He was used to seeing things like that, every day at work, but he knew Amy didn't like to see anyone in discomfort, though she wasn't squeamish around blood. That was one of the reasons he loved her; her compassion that she didn't show very often behind her sassy, flirtatious exterior.
The bow tie wearing man seemed to decide he didn't care about the risks of contagion, and stroked the sleeping alien child on the top of her head once he had finished getting his sample to test. Her trembling slowed a little bit under the Doctor's fatherly gesture. He stood up suddenly, but whispered to the little girl something that Rory couldn't quite make out. It was something about a promise. Stowing the syringe away in its box and back into his coat, the Doctor turned to Eepa.
"I'm going to need to get back to my TaRDIS," he said, professional again, brisk and unemotional. "Eepa, will you accompany me? I don't want to lose my way, and my companions are still cold."
"Doctor, it's all right, we can come with you," Amy protested, but the Doctor gave her a small, enigmatic smile.
"Now, Amelia, I need you to stay here with Rory and help Keea take care of the children. And Rory," he added softly. "Don't let any of them die." Without waiting for a response from either of his companions, he turned and walked out of the infirmary, back into the underground city.
Eepa followed him, but not before he had said to Rory and Amy: "Thank you, the Doctor's friends, for all you are doing to help us, despite your species."
