Alice Lyons, Postmaster General of the United Kingdom, was nothing if not predictable. At 14:45 precisely every workday, she could be found having a cuppa at the Costa Coffee just down the block from her office. Unlike many executives, she didn't send an assistant but went down herself to pick up her cappuccino (primo, skimmed milk, extra shot, and hold the chocolate dusting), got it to drink in, and sat down at her favorite booth upstairs to do just that. She always stayed precisely 13 minutes, returned the mug, and was heading back to her office by 15:00.
All this, of course, made her very easy to intercept.
This implantation was too important to use a drone. With very minimal preparation, O'fila was ready to perform the implantation herself.
What Postmaster Lyons saw was a young girl approach her. Flouncy blue dress, blonde hair in loose pigtails, and with a sweet smile that displayed that both lower eyeteeth were missing, the child was the picture of young innocence. Lyons, a mother herself, would have put the child's age at eight or nine years. With a slight blush on her freckled cheeks, the girl shyly thrust a fistful of random wildflowers at her. "These are for you, Mrs. Lyons," she stammered slightly.
This type of encounter was unusual but not out of the realm of imagination. Lyons was an elected official, after all. "Why, child, these are lovely!" she gushed, taking the flowers from the girl. "And what's your name?"
Lyons was awarded with a broad grin. "Alice," the child answered.
The Postmaster pretended to be delighted. "What a coincidence!" she cried. "That's my name, too!" She looked back at the 'bouquet' again. "We Alices must stick together, eh?" She nudged the girl with her elbow in a playful manner.
Alice the child nodded solemnly, as if Lyons had just given her a divine truth; then, suddenly, spun and disappeared into the crowd.
Unnoticed and forgotten, O'fila watched Lyons shake her head, mystified by the encounter but also flattered by it. The flowers, undoubtedly, would be displayed prominently somewhere in the Postmaster's office. An office that was visited quite often by many high-ranking employees of the Royal Mail. None of them would be leaving that office in quite the same shape as they came into it. The plan was crude but effective.
O'fila was just allowing herself to feel a bit proud of how well that exchange had gone when she met the eyes of another Costa patron. Male, tall, lanky, wearing an odd combination of a suit, tie, and trainers. And he was looking directly at her. O'fila felt something cold in the pit of her stomach. He shouldn't be able to notice her at all, but his facial expression left no doubt that he not only saw her but realized that something was wrong.
He hadn't just witnessed, he had seen what she had done.
O'fila smiled at him, mustering as much child-like innocence as possible, before whirling to skip out of the store. She kept her gait and facial expressions as innocuous as possible, but felt his eyes boring into her back the entire time.
The moment she was outside the shop, out of sight and hearing, she pressed her left thumb and ring finger together. "Ranger Eighteen to Base," she muttered as low as she could and still have the mic pick up the vibrations. "We may have a problem."
Most of the time, the Doctor could fly the TARDIS where he wanted it to go with no difficulties. Sometimes, however, the Old Girl would take whatever coordinates he decided on, program them into the computer, activated the dematerialisation circuit, and plop herself down somewhere completely different. The moment the Doctor opened the door to find a crowded street, he knew this was one of the latter times.
A quick retreat back into the console room and a quick peek at the monitor revealed that he had dematerialized in London, in the year 2011. Not exactly the restful respite he had been trying for.
"Always did have trouble finding the Eye of Orion," he muttered to himself, closing and locking the TARDIS door behind him.
Although busy and congested, there seemed to be nothing amiss about the street outside the alleyway he had materialized in. In fact, it seemed a perfectly normal and pleasant Thursday afternoon. Still, the Doctor had seen many life-threatening situations that looked peaceful at first. Best check, just to be on the safe side.
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind when he saw her. A young girl, the picture of innocence, walked down the street with a handful of flowers in one fist. Nothing strange or dangerous about that, except something about the scene struck him as odd. Was it the fact that she was a child walking around a busy commercial area without an older guardian? No, it was more than that, but he'd start there and see where it took him.
Either way, following her was a given.
Oddly enough, he seemed to be the only one to have noticed how incongruous she seemed. People would move around her instead of colliding with her, but no one seemed to actually notice her. A perception filter he would have sensed; this must be something else. He, however, was perfectly visible; so he kept his stride and face casual and relaxed as he stalked a seven-year-old girl.
He was there to witness her presenting the flowers to Lyons at the café. He watched as she appeared in the human group's awareness, gave the woman her flowers, and then seemed to disappear from their sight again. Any doubts he may have harbored regarding whether she was up to mischief or not disappeared when she realized he was watching her. Her eyes widened and she froze in shock before assuming an innocuous posture too exaggerated to be real. He watched her leave, and thought for a moment about following her, but decided against it. She was on to him, and he'd get significantly less information from the girl now. Better to turn his attention to her target.
Which was how John Smith, Safety Inspector Extraordinaire, came to be performing a surprise inspection of the Royal Mail's Headquarters after closing.
The night guard had no intentions of letting him enter, but changed his mind when the Doctor showed him his psychic paper. Postmaster Lyon's office was easy to find, displayed prominently on the building's directory. A little jiggery pokery with the sonic screwdriver, and he had the run of the place.
There were the flowers, clear as day. Lyons had found a vase somewhere along the line, and the wildflowers were prominently on display on a corner of her well-organized desk.
The Doctor studied the bouquet, but nothing seemed unusual about them. They looked like regular flowers. They smelled like regular flowers (Rosebay Willowherb, Black-Eyed Susan, Feverfew, Common Poppy, and Fairy Foxglove, all picked from parks in and around central London). They even, when he stuck his tongue out and licked a petal, tasted like regular flowers.
Finally, frustrated, he pulled out his sonic screwdriver and scanned the bouquet. And that was when he finally got results.
Tiny creatures, no longer than an inch in length, erupted from where they were hiding amongst the petals and leaves. Slender in appearance, they resembled inchworms but moved with a side-to-side motion like a snake. And they were fast. Even prepared with tweezers (for removing flower petal and leaf samples, if it had come to that), the Doctor still barely caught even one before they disappeared under the desk.
"What are you?" he asked his captive, holding the worm up where he could get a better look at it with his magnifying glass. It was only then, when he alarmed it into displaying its rotating teeth, that he realized that they weren't organic but robotic, with a metal body and red "eye" in its forehead. The sonic was again utilized, this time to subdue the robot, before he trapped it in a specimen jar. Placing the jar in his pocket, he used his screwdriver to find that the other nanobots had returned to hiding in the bouquet. Must be programmed to hide there until ... something. The Doctor wasn't sure of the 'bots' end-game, but he was sure that it probably wouldn't be pleasant for either Mrs. Lyons or any guests the 'bots may deem a target. The same setting on the sonic he used before was effective in wiping the computer brains of the remaining 'bots; deleting the motherboard, so to say. They were nothing but metal curiosities now, completely harmless. The Doctor waved to the security guard as he exited the building.
The TARDIS would have the equipment he needed to get the answers he wanted. Where did the 'bots come from? What were they up to? To what purpose? Who made them, and who was using them now? The Doctor always liked to know as much about his opponent as possible. Well, most of the time.
He had just gotten started his scan of the nanobot when he heard the TARDIS door creak open. His head popped up, and he found himself reeling with shock, surprise, and a severe case of déjà vu when he saw who was standing here.
"It's bigger on the inside!" Donna Noble gasped, looking around the console room.
How did Donna Noble find the TARDIS? How much does she remember? And how will she survive remembering without her head going all explody-wody? Next chapter is going to be a big day for Donna fans as a lot of the Donna-themed aspects of this story get explained/wrapped up!
