AN: Don't despair about the lack of Amy's boys in this chapter. They'll be back in short order for chapter four. In the meantime, catch up with Amy and my OC. Enjoy!
Chapter Three
Clarice woke with a pounding head and a sluggish pulse.
The world swum and spun around her as shapes of humanoid creatures with harsh shadows loomed ahead. Cries of panic emanated from all around her, echoing as if she were hearing them from the bottom of a well.
With some difficulty, she turned herself over onto her front and the undescriptive shapes transfigured into women from all different races and nationalities. In a burst, her hearing returned and she was nearly deafened by a cacophony of languages all blending together as one desperate cry.
Some women sat on the floor, huddled together and crying while others banged on the metal walls with their fists as if to cave them in by force of will.
What was happened?
She cuffed her hands over her ears so she could concentrate. Her heightened senses were going haywire. The air was stale with body odor: a nauseating concoction of sweat and tears. It was abnormally hot as well, no doubt from so many people being cramped into such a small space.
Where was she?
The first thing she thought of when she saw the metal walls was a semi truck. But when she placed her hand on the ground she realized that the balance was wrong. The floor was too thick.
A hissing noise rent the air and a large metal door flew open, very nearly colliding into the people closest to it.
"Get back!" a heavily accented voice cried. It was proceeded by tall man brandishing a handgun. The women back away, stepping on one another as they did so. The barrel of the weapon swung from one side of the room to another. The captives cried out, crouching in terror.
Clarice buried her face in the ground and screwed her eyes shut, waiting for the sound of gunfire.
She was going to die.
She was going to die right here.
An icy chill spider-crawled on her spine in spite of the hot atmosphere.
"Please be quick," she whispered, "please, please, please be quick."
The gun did not fire.
Hesitantly she glanced up through tears and noticed that the man had a redheaded woman with him in tow. A woman whom appeared shockingly more angry than afraid.
"Let go of me!" she demanded, attempting to wrench herself free. Her captor's hand squeezed around her slender arm like a manacle. He whispered something before beaming her in the side of the head with his weapon. She toppled to the ground, dazed.
"Right," the man said, "you lot are gunna coooperate, 'ear?" His accent was nearly unintelligibly, but based on the reaction of those around him, it seemed as if he was being understood in spite of it. "Do every fing we tells ya, and no 'un will get 'urt."
He rotated his gun from side to side again, taking a few steps back. Then, as quickly as he'd come, he slammed the door shut.
Instantaneously, the crowd burst into incomprehensible chatter.
Clarice kept her eyes trained on the redheaded woman whose mouth was frozen in a grimace of pain.
Is she going to be okay?
She waited for someone to come to the woman's aid. There had to be someone there who knew how to attend to a wounded person. But it soon became apparent that no one was going to help her. They were all too preoccupied with their own fear, their own self-preservation that they didn't notice.
Clarice was immobile with indecision.
What could I do? Even if she is hurt, I don't have any training in first aid.
The only thing she knew how to do was perform mouth-to-mouth and CPR. She knew nothing about how to properly attend to head wounds.
Nonetheless, the longer she looked at the woman, the more the desire to help blossomed in her belly.
Clarice came to her feet and shouldered past the forest of arms and legs and torsos over to where the redhead lay. By this time, the woman had managed to raise herself up on all fours. Clarice knelt down in front of her, careful not to overcrowd her anymore than was necessary.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
The woman met Clarice's eye, her gaze unfocused. "I think so," she rasped. Her accent sounded vaguely Scottish, or Irish. Clarice wasn't sure, not being accustomed to either dialect.
The woman folded her long legs underneath her and sat down, holding the side of her head. Between her long, thin fingers, Clarice noticed faint traces of blood.
Clarice removed her hoodie and presented it to the Scotswoman.
"I don't know if this will help with the bleeding, but it's clean."
Clarice suspected she'd done the wrong thing when the woman gave her a perplexed look, but soon her pale face softened and she accepted the garment.
"Thanks," she croaked, pressing the hoodie against her temple. There was a moment of silence as she seemed to be gathering her thoughts.
"I'm Amy, Amy Pond," she said at last. "What's your name?"
"Clarice Sutherland." She threw a look over her shoulder at the other women, before leaning closer to the redheaded Scotswoman. "Where are we?"
"I don't know. I really, really don't. I was swimming with my husband, Rory, and now I'm here." She glanced about her person as it to get a better idea of where 'here' was. "Some strange women in hoods came and changed me out of my swim clothes. Put me in this." She lowered her head to indicate to her current attire, a loose fitting white blouse with blue flowing pants.
"I…I just got off work," Clarice said. "There was a cat. I thought it was hurt. But when I tried to help it….there was something wrong with its eyes-"
"And you woke up here," Amy interrupted. "Have you seen anyone else? Any men?"
"No," Clarice shook her head. "Only women…."
Amy considered this for a moment before speaking again. "I remember now. I remember wakin' up with two men there. They were trying to guess how much I'm worth."
"Worth?" A chill ran down Clarice's spine. "This…" she looked about fearfully. "This is human trafficking?"
"Yeah. Must be."
Clarice's gaze turned towards the door. The only discernible exit. It was at least five inches thick from the look of it, not something a simple pick pocket could undo. And it had metal bars criss-crossing in the middle of it. There were no windows. Everything appeared to be illuminated by lights concealed in the ceiling.
"What do we do?"
"Don't worry," the Scotswoman consoled. "I have this friend, right? He's called The Doctor. He'll get us out of here."
"The Doctor?" Clarice tried not to bristle at the name, bidding away childhood memories of stiff sofas and the overwhelming smell of cleaning fluid.
"I was with him on Space Florida when I was taken," Amy went on. "I bet he's worked out I haven't drowned by now. At least I hope so."
"Did you…did you say Space Florida? Like, Florida…in space?"
"I reckon we're on some sort of space ship now. Feels like one at least. Wish I knew we were headed."
Clarice could only stare in disbelief.
A Space ship.
This woman thought they were on a space ship.
Everything about her was making sense. Of course she hadn't been afraid to go up against an armed guard. Because she was crazy. Part of her ached with the knowledge that this woman probably couldn't help her escape (if such a thing was possible) but she was the only person thus far she'd been able to communicate with at all. The only one with a cool enough head.
"You're from Earth, yeah?" Amy asked. "America?"
"Where else would I be from?"
"Dunno. Starship America? Do they have a Starship America? Doctor took me to the Starship UK once." She brightened at the memory. "God that was ages ago."
"The Doctor…" Clarice pressed. "Is he your doctor?"
"No, he's not my doctor. He's The Doctor. He's an alien and the cleverest man I've ever met. Just don't tell him I said that."
Clarice was beginning to feel like a soccer ball that'd had all the air kicked out of it.
How was this happened to her?
Today had started off like every other day, filled with boredom and predictability. Now all of the sudden she was trapped in a cell with a crazy person that thought her doctor—her alien doctor—was going to burst in and rescue her like a superhero or something.
It was like being stuck in a comedy without jokes.
"Hey," the redhead chastised, no doubt detecting her melancholy. "Trust me, okay? I've known The Doctor for years. He's rescued me more times than I can count. Just focus on staying alive in the meantime, yeah?"
Clarice swallowed, but her companion's resolve remained unwavering. It was clear that in spite of how absurd this woman's claims were, she believed them whole-heartedly. She wished she had that level of hope right now. Or any kind really.
The crazy thing was the longer she held Amy's gaze, the more contagious her self-assurance became. Clarice knew it wasn't logical, but maybe she didn't' need logic right now. She needed to believe that she was going to make it out of this. Even if it was just a pipe dream. The only alternative was sobbing in a corner alone and waiting to die. Or, perhaps, for something much worse.
Clarice nodded. "Okay."
Amy placed a comforting hand on the young girl's shoulder.
Just then the hiss of the airlock sounded again.
The numpty that had dragged Amy in re-entered the cell, this time accompanied by three more men. They each held what looked like a Gameboy her parents had bought her in primary school and wore the same type of uniform she'd seen the others wearing: black from head to toe like riot police officers on a budget.
The first barked at all of them to stand with their backs against the wall. This wasn't an easy feat what with them barely having enough room to stand at all. Nevertheless, they had little choice but to do as they were told.
The men spread out and scanned the women one at a time. Usually the device would give a "bing" but occasionally it would give a low dirge and then that women was stamped on the back of her hand and was dragged from the hold.
"What are they doing with them?" Clarice whispered, panic lacing her voice.
Amy didn't answer, shaking her head instead. She instantly regretted this as the unnecessary movement caused her brain to swim. Her heart pounded and her palms became sweaty. Don't panic, she scolded herself. Panicking doesn't help.
She tried to do as The Doctor instructed her their first adventure together: Notice everything. She scanned the traffickers and immediately observed all of them were armed to the teeth. Not just with the riffles strapped on their backs, but by devices that looked vaguely like explosives, long knives, handguns, and magazines for their firearms.
Even if she managed to take one by surprise, it wouldn't take long for another to draw their weapon and take her out. But maybe her fighting could set off a chain reaction and then…then what? These women were unarmed. It'd be like shooting fish in a barrel.
Where was The Doctor? It was impossible to derive any sense of time. She'd been knocked out so much, it could be six days 'til Christmas as far as she knew.
Any moment now he would barge in, all floppy hair and swagger.
Just keep your head and wait. You're the Girl Who Waited. Do your job.
However, dark thoughts prickled her mind.
What if he thought she'd drowned? What if they didn't realize she'd been taken? Her throat tightened at the image of Rory, her Rory, heartbroken and lost trying to locate her body.
They wouldn't come looking for her because they wouldn't know she'd gone.
Her chest tightened and she became painfully aware of the hair standing up on the back of her neck.
She might never, ever see them again.
Her boys.
Her Doctor and Nurse.
She could be light-years away in an endless universe. No way of calling for help. No means of escape.
Amy's breathing came out harsh. It was time that she admitted it to herself: She was scared. Really, properly scared.
One of the traffickers stopped in front of Clarice, casting a shadow over her face. He dwarfed the girl by about a foot and a half and easily weighed four times as much as her in muscle mass. Clarice's eyes glimmered up at him in fear as he scanned her from head to torso.
It gave a high beep, the sound that Amy had come to learn meant she was all clear. However, the man didn't move on to Amy. He just stood there, frowning at the readings. He scanned her again. The apparatus beeped once more.
One of the man's comrades noticed he was having difficulties. "What's the hold up, Morgie?"
Morgie shook his head. "Something's wrong with the scanner." He slapped the side of the device with his palm.
"Use mine," his associate suggested. Morgie accepted the small gadget and then conducted another examination of Clarice only to be met with the same result. The tiny machine beeped in approval.
"Look at these readings, Trev."
Amy watched confusion play on Trev's face as he glanced at the small contraption.
"Take her to the Captain," he concluded. "He'll know what to do with her."
"Right," Morgie muttered. He grabbed Clarice by the arm and pinned it behind her back. The terror in the young woman's eyes ignited a fire in Amy's belly.
"Hey!" Amy cried. "Let go of her!"
In seconds, the trafficker that called himself Trev had hooked his arms around Amy's torso and was pulling her back.
"Finish up with the rest," Morgie said to Trev "You know how the Captain is about his schedule."
Amy caught Clarice's eye and witnessed the pure panic they contained. She was powerless to do anything but watch as the brunette was forcibly removed from the hold.
Clarice had no chance of escaping the trafficker, but she'd been thrown into fight-or-flight mode and it wouldn't stop her from trying. She pulled and kicked, she arched her back and struggled. Nevertheless, he never so much as loosened his grip.
"You want me to shoot you in the leg?" her captor demanded, shouting into her ear.
She offered a terrified glance, eyes prickling with tears, as her only answer.
"Then keep movin' then," he snarled.
Clarice reluctantly found herself keeping pace with him.
Where were they taking her? She had a feeling they wouldn't tell her even if she asked. Would she wind up in the same place as the women that they'd stamped?
She swallowed the lump in her throat. Would her parents ever find out what happened to her? If she was killed would they ever discover her body?
Stop. Think about something else.
Her eyes roamed around the corridors, hoping to find something else to occupy her mind. The halls were wide with lead pipes running through the length of them. The area seemed to breathe and hum as if a large machine were at work somewhere.
Like a ship, she thought. Like a space….
She was dragged into a massive room that looked like an abandoned warehouse or airplane hanger. A monolithic computer dominated the wall opposite her, unlike anything Clarice had been exposed to. Wires, thin and long, formed a web around it.
Two men were seated in winged chairs in front of a tall control panel, studying much smaller monitors that were also mounted to the wall. One was noticeable younger than the other. The eldest turned towards them, his brow raised questioningly.
"What's a catch doing in here, Morgie?" he demanded.
"Sorry, Captain," Morgie said. "I wasn't sure what to do with her."
The Captain snorted derisively. "If there's something wrong with her, just throw her in the cell with the other rejects."
"No, sir. There's nothing wrong with her it's just…she ain't human, sir."
Clarice's blood went cold
She ain't human, sir.
She was surprised by how much these words filled her with dread.
They were crazy. Absurd. Of course she was human. What else could she possibly be?
Clarice's blood was churning, nearly audible as her lungs tried to provide her brain with oxygen.
"No," The Captain shook his head soberly. "Not possible. Them baiters is programed to pick up humans only."
"I don't know, sir, but…" Morgie motioned to Clarice helplessly. "You can take a look for yourself." He removed his scanner from his utility belt and lightly tossed it to the captain.
The Captain eyed the girl dubiously before scanning her with the handheld instrument. The readings, apparently, were not what he expected. He frowned at Clarice again before trying a second time. The contraption chirped benignly.
"What the hell?" he murmured. "Flash. Take a look at this."
The younger man pried himself from his seat and joined the others. Flash looked over the data, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Flash shook his head. "It's working perfect. But he's right, she's not human."
The Captain cursed under his breath, stomping four paces away from his crew. Shaking his head testily, he rounded on them. "How the hell did this happen? Those baiters were top-of-the-line, you said. No mistakes, you said."
"They were. They are," Flash defended.
"Then how do you explain that?" He stabbed a finger at Clarice and she flinched.
"I…I don't know." Flash paled at the accusation.
"You don't know. Well, ain't that a laugh." The Captain squared up to Flash, and the subordinate was visible unnerved. "That was part of our deal. I work the business side; you operate the tech. If you tell me you're slackin' off-"
"Gil-Captain," he amended, "I haven't. I swear. Look, let's get LOUISA to have a look at her. See how much she's worth."
"We sell humans, Flash," the Captain retorted. "Aliens is too risky. Especially on this side of the galaxy. You remember what happened to Bernard? Accidentally caught himself some duchess from Rabransel. Next thing he knows The Church is slappin' cuffs on him. He's servin' six three hundred year sentences."
Flash shrugged sheepishly. "She's already here. There's no going back. We might as well see if we can get some extra cash. Throwing her away without knowing would just be a waste of money. You know how expensive it is to operate those teleporters."
The Captain sighed through his nose, turning to Morgie who only stared back, ambivalent about the whole situation. He murmured something about incompetence before coming to a decision.
"Right," he grumbled. "If she comes up under three thousand credits, it's the reject pile." The commanding officer ambled over to the control panel and flicked a few switches. "Stand on the yellow tape."
Morgie gave Clarice a hard shove in the direction of a yellow x in the middle of the floor. It was in the path of the giant computer. She assumed that this was LOUISA.
"Don't move," the Captain ordered. "Don't say nothing. Don't even think. Got it?"
Clarice didn't know how to communicate she understood without performing any of these actions and so she stood as still as she could, hoping this would be enough of a response.
The Captain threw a switch on the control panel and a light bloomed on top of the large computer.
Her hands turned clammy and her body shivered. The muscles in her legs tightened as if preparing her for take off.
She had to get out. She would die if she didn't get out of there.
But there was nowhere to go. They had her trapped.
The red beam began at the top of her head and slowly wormed its way down, tickling the exposed skin of her face and neck. It was difficult not to move with such a bright light shining in her face, but she did the best she could.
At last, the beam retracted and she sighed with relief. Against the captain's orders not to move, she lightly patted herself down to see if it had done anything to her, but she still felt in tact.
She nearly jumped out of her skin as the monitor came to life, showing her a 3D model of herself.
"Calculating," the computer said in a sultry female voice. The model spun on an invisible axis before it was pushed aside to make room for paragraphs of text.
"Height: 5'2 inches. Weight: 52.6167 kg. Natural hair color: Brown. Extrapolating additional statistics, please wait."
Clarice felt her dizziness increase. She shut her eyes for a moment, trying to imagine a calming scene like Dr. Omeke had trained her to do.
Grandma's house. Tea on the veranda. Playing with Romana in the backyar- They're going to find out. They're going to find out about my birth defects. They're going to kill me.
Her eyes watered as the computer continued its evaluation.
"Binary vascular system. Advanced mental capabilities. Abnormal physiologically endurance levels. High resistance to viral diseases. Regenerative capabilities. Expected lifespan: 26,895.3456 years. Planet of origin: Gallifrey."
"Gallifrey?" Flash asked. "What the hell is Gallifrey?"
The Captain shook his head. "Never heard of it." He turned to Clarice. "You, what's Gallifrey?"
Clarice's mouth slacked open, but all that came out was a stutter, followed by a weak "I don't know."
"You don't know your own bloody planet?"
"I've-I've never even heard of it before."
"You thick or something?"
Clarice didn't reply. Her eyes found the word and traced them. Her hearts arrested for a split second and she thought she would scream. Instead she devoted all of her strength to standing.
Gallifrey.
"Right. 'Nough stalling. Time for the important bit." Gil pressed a few buttons on the console. "Show me the money."
"Calculating value," LOUISA said.
Clarice's 3D avatar was replaced by a string of numbers. It began as a four-digit figure, but quickly grew. In a matter of seconds, numbers consumed the screen in an avalanche of data until there was no white space at all. It didn't stop there. The numbers kept climbing and climbing, reaching higher than the humans could count.
The Captain and Flash stared at the screen slack-jawed.
"Bleedin' hell," The Captain whispered.
Flash shook his head incredulously. "It's never done that before."
The Captain snapped a finger at Morgie. "Look up Gallifrey."
"On it, boss." Morgie took a seat in one of the winged chairs and began pressing keys.
"It's still going," the Second-in-Command marveled. "How's it still going?"
Gil didn't have an answer. His cold brown eyes remained transfixed to the monitor like someone who had climbed to the top of the highest mountain and was gazing down at everything in creation.
"Beautiful," he murmured. "Bleeding beautiful."
"There's hardly anything here, sir," Morgie spoke, interrupting the Captain's reverie. "Most folks say it never existed."
"Go on," the Captain coaxed, shifting his gaze to Clarice who swallowed nervously.
"It's called the Jewel of Kasterborous. One of the most advanced civilizations to ever exist, but that's all that's known. That and it was home to some pompous wankers called Time Lords."
"Well, then," a smile tugged at the corner of the Gil's lips. "Looks like you're going to make us kings, Time Lord."
AN: This chapter was a beast to write so feedback would be immensely appreciated. Please review!