Chapter 3: The Key
Two hours later, Rose was convinced that she never wanted to return to Paris or, to be truthful, France ever again. The smell alone was enough to encourage that thought. After walking through slippery alleyways, shifting detritus and, in general, indulging the Doctor's favourite pastime of 'snooping', they had little to nothing to show for their efforts beyond the muck on their clothes.
They'd started where they'd fought off the Teralnish-whatevers, but there was nothing there save for scuffle marks on the ground and scattered piles of rubbish. Tracing Dorothée's haphazard path through the alleys was difficult – not because it was hard to determine just where she'd turned but because the general state of the alleys deteriorated the further that they got from the main street.
At least she knew that she never wanted to know exactly what they'd walked through.
"Cruk," Dorothée muttered, summing up her own thoughts rather well once they reached the spot where she'd apparently first encountered the Teralnish-whatevers. "There's nothing here. They couldn't've vanished or used the Rift. It's not a transit station. Doesn't work like that. So they've got to still be around here. But where?"
The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and fiddled with its settings. "Oh, not many places a blue-skinned alien and an entourage of Teralnishtapins could go in early twentieth century Paris. At least, not openly. Now, late twentieth century Paris… they probably could've walked into Notre Dame without anyone blinking an eye."
She shook her head. Of course he'd think that. Then again, a blue-skinned alien probably wouldn't've been out of place in twenty-first century London either. "So they probably stuck to the alleys. Or went back to their ship. But, if they came through the Rift, wouldn't someone have, oh, noticed a ship coming through?"
Dorothée shrugged. "Most of the time people ignore what comes through the Rift unless it hurts them. Probably the same reason people walk right past the TARDIS without really seeing it. Unless it affects them directly, it doesn't matter."
She bit her lower lip and sighed. "It's a bit like being Chicken Little, isn't it? Cryin' out that the sky is fallin' and no one believes you, even though it is."
The Doctor suddenly grinned, the sonic screwdriver's hum filling the alleyway with sound. "Oh, Rose Tyler, you're brilliant! People don't look up, yes. But you know where they never look? Never, ever? Especially when they're in a city?"
What was he going on about now? She and Dorothée shared a perplexed look, but, before either of them could reply, the Doctor continued. "They never look down! Ha!"
He nudged a pile of rubbish aside with his trainer to reveal a manhole cover.
Oh. As if she wasn't already covered in enough muck. "In the sewers?"
He grinned. "In the sewers!"
Great.
Well, at least it wasn't a quarry.
Dorothée shook her head as she helped the Doctor shift the manhole cover. Inky blackness was the only thing that greeted them. That, at least, was a bonus. "And how're we supposed to see when we get down there? Somehow I doubt we'll find a light switch."
He shifted and reached into one of his pockets. "I'm sure I've got something-" And she was struck by a pang of nostalgia for the Professor, her Professor, as the Doctor pulled out bits and bobs from his jacket. "-A roll of duct tape? No, that won't do. Bit of twine. A jelly baby. Oh! Haven't seen a ball like that in years. A Betamax tape – thought I'd got rid of that. And… Aha! Here it is. One torch. Only slightly used." He flicked the switch, but nothing happened. It was only after he rapped it against the concrete that it turned on.
"And slightly battered," Rose added with a grin.
The Doctor didn't bother to answer her, instead aiming the newly lit torch into the darkness. "Only one thing to do, and that's to go down. I'll head down first and light the way. Mind the rungs; they look a little…sticky." Putting the end of the torch in his mouth, he began to descend, carefully aiming the light beam below him.
Only one thing for it, really. Knowing him, he was bound to get into trouble the instant he set foot off the lower rung. That never changed – no matter the regeneration. She was about to follow him when she paused to look at Rose. "Want to go first?"
Rose shook her head. "I'll follow along behind. That way, if the two of you 'ave any problems, I'll have a chance of gettin' you out of it."
She considered the other woman's words carefully before she decided that, yes, she trusted her enough to do just that. "Okay."
So she climbed down after the Doctor. The rungs were sticky and she had to use a measure of force to pry her hands away from the metal as she descended. The walls were almost uncomfortably close and she didn't want to think about what was causing that smell, but she could ignore the discomfort. There were more important things to worry about.
Like this 'no future' problem and, of course, how Rose knew about it. Her original thought was that the Doctor had figured it out somehow from one of his instruments. But that didn't fit the facts. He'd looked surprised when Rose had given them the deadline of two days. Which meant he didn't know.
So what did that make Rose? A metaphorical 'Cassandra'? Able to tell the future, warn of signs and portents, and predict the end of the universe? She'd scoff if she could, but she couldn't possibly discount that theory. Maybe Rose was just that. She could easily be from a time and age where that was the norm. Or even another planet. She'd learned enough to know that just because someone looked human, they might not be.
When the walls disappeared, she shivered in reaction. She'd reached the bottom of the ladder, complete with the obligatory slimy green-tinged water. She grimaced as she stepped into the muck, carefully climbing onto the side of the tunnel next to the Doctor. "You always did take me to the nicest places."
He shot her a grin as they waited for Rose to join them.
Seconds passed them by and she realised that she couldn't even hear the sounds of the other woman's descent.
The Doctor walked to the ladder and looked upward. A moment later, he turned toward her, his expression grim. "She's not there."
Oh. Oh, cruk. "There must be another entrance. They might've..."
She didn't have the time to complete the sentence as the Doctor had dropped the torch into his pocket and was on the ladder and swiftly climbing.
Some things never do change. The Doctor – or his companion – would always find trouble. And, of course, if it was the companion that was in trouble the Doctor would always, always, rescue them.
She had a moment to regret that she hadn't stopped by the TARDIS weapons locker as she followed the Doctor again.
A good batch of Nitro Nine might turn out to be rather useful.
Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose.
Her name was a mantra in his mind. She had to be safe. He'd done it again, of course. Just gone off on his tangents, jumped merrily into danger, and had left her behind. He should've been the last one down. He should've let Ace go first, then Rose, then him.
That would've been the clever thing to do.
But, when it counted, like now, his cleverness had failed him.
Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose.
Damn the rungs. Damn the delay in his ascending the ladder. Damn the universe for whatever had happened to her.
Maybe she was just talking to a local. Maybe someone had noticed the manhole cover and decided to ask why it was off the access-way? No. Now he was reaching.
Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose.
He slowed his frantic pace as he neared the top. There was no telling what he might find outside of the access hatch. More Teralnishtapins? The blue-skinned alien? Or just Rose, talking to a local?
He strained his senses but he could hear nothing beyond the sound of his and Ace's breathing and the low whistle of the wind. Right. Enough caution.
When he poked his head out of the tunnel, he didn't see anything particularly suspicious beyond the obvious absence of his companion. He lifted himself out and moved to the side to give Ace some room as he scanned the alleyway. Nothing.
There was absolutely nothing to see. No sign of a struggle. No nothing. Just rubbish bins, muck, and assorted debris.
Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose.
"We were only in the tunnel for a few minutes," Ace said as she moved to his side. "They wouldn't have enough time to get too far."
"We'll have to split up," he decided. "You take one way, I'll take the other. Meet back here in ten minutes. If something happens, I'll find you."
"Me too," Ace replied with a nod. She headed off one way while he took the other.
Rose'd be fine, he tried to console himself. She was brave and clever and knew how to take care of herself.
She'd be fine.
Oh, Rose. There were so many things he should've done differently...
Right. Enough of that. Rose needed him. And, if necessary, he'd rip the city apart to find her.
That was when he heard it. Just at the edge of his hearing, he could hear it. He moved closer. It was a bit clearer now, but he could barely understand it. Definitely wasn't French or English, though.
Ah, yes. It was alien.
"Are you sure this is the one?"
"That's what this says, you idiot. It hasn't led us astray before!"
No, no, no. He recognised that language. Hadn't heard it in years – centuries, really – but he knew it far too well. Caxtarid.
There were Caxtarids on Earth, but whatever for? Couldn't be the Rift. At least, he didn't think so. Caxtarids were interested in revenge, not instant travel through time. There had to be something else, something that he was missing.
He edged closer.
"But this one...that's not possible. It can't take this form, can it?"
"Apparently, it can. The legends say that it could take any shape, living or inanimate. Can be any size, too."
Dread pooled in the pit of his stomach at the thought the suddenly came to him. He couldn't've been right. No. Oh, no. No, no, no, no. Not that. Anything but that.
They were just around the corner, judging from the sounds.
"OW! Damn it, she bit me!"
"An' I'll do more than that if you don't let me go!"
Rose. They had Rose! His brow furrowed as he slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. Maybe he could distract them long enough to give her a chance to escape.
He could hear the sound of flesh hitting flesh and a loud grunt from the impact. Rose! If they'd hurt her, they would have him to answer to. He edged to the corner.
"Keep quiet, girl!"
"You can hit me all you want. I won't help you."
"You won't have a choice."
He peered around the corner. Two Caxtarids and a pack of Teralnishtapin. And, of course, Rose.
Her lip was bleeding freely, but she still glared at her captors. "There's always a choice. An' you wanna know what my choice is? It's no."
"No?" The taller of the Caxtarids asked, laughing as he obviously tightened his grip on her arm. "Oh, Kraal, this one's feisty."
The newly identified Kraal peered at something in his hands – if only the Teralnishtapin weren't crowding around the Caxtarids, he might be able to see. "She might be feisty, but it doesn't matter. None of that'll matter."
"Destroyin' the universe doesn't matter?" Rose scoffed.
"Destroying the universe? Oh, clever girl, but you're wrong. This has nothing to do with destroying the universe. It has everything to do with saving it." Kraal replied, leaning toward her. "You think you know what we're planning? You don't. But there's more to your words than that, isn't there? More to you than meets the eye, no? That's okay. We already know."
"You don't know anything." Rose replied, and he could almost, almost see a hint of gold reflected in her eyes.
Enough of this.
He stepped away from the corner and into the alleyway, brandishing his sonic screwdriver like the weapon it wasn't. Only the Caxtarids didn't know that. He hoped. "Let her go."
The Caxtarids turned toward him and, now, he could finally see what was in Kraal's hands.
A tracer.
He'd been right but, oh, how he wished he'd been wrong.
"No," Kraal said as he moved closer to Rose.
"No? Oh, no's a very dangerous word. Very, very dangerous. And you know why?" He smiled but there was no humour in it, only a deadly promise. "Because you never, ever say no to me."
"And that's supposed to scare us?" Kraal asked.
Rose answered for him. "Yes."
The Caxtarids laughed. "Such bravado. We could let you have her, of course, but she's needed."
By me, he thought to himself. "You can't have her."
Kraal smiled as he closed the distance between himself and Rose.
It only took a second. The merest, briefest second for the tracer to touch Rose's cheek.
It only took a second for golden light to surround her. A second, just a tiny, insignificant second.
It only took a single beat of his hearts for the light to fade, though his shout of denial did not.
When it was over, when the second had passed, he realised the truth.
Rose Tyler was gone.
And in her place was a chunk of clear crystal – a fragment of the Key to Time.
To be continued...
