"So, then, tell me. Who are you?" continued the Doctor when the child showed no signs of an obvious contribution to the conversation, other than a simple shrug. "Well, other than someone who goes around condemning complete and total strangers of doing… What was it we've done wrong, anyhow? Regardless! It's one thing to go blustering in, knowing full well where trouble is, it's another thing entirely when I've done nothing yet to issue it!" the Doctor rushed out, bewildered, in a single breath of oxygen, describing his bafflement.
The young girl on the opposite side of the jail cell bars took a single step backward, as if she was being reprimanded. But what the girl mistook for discipline, Rose saw as perplexity on the Doctor's part, a need to understand. The Doctor wasn't making this any better for either party involved. Before the girl could turn tail and run, Rose cleared her throat and kept the Doctor's speech from going much further.
"You're the definition of trouble, Doctor," Rose muttered before continuing, her statement coupled with a sidelong glance in his direction. "What he means is, 'Nice to meet you'. I'm Rose Tyler, and this is the Doctor. He's harmless." Rose used the smile that was reserved for the children that they encountered, hoping more than anything that it was enough to gain back just a small portion of the lost trust. It was a sweet smile, one that reassured children that everything would be alright. The Doctor didn't understand the tactic, but it worked most of the time.
The child uneasily shifted her weight from one foot to another, her small fists clutching the front of her long tanned and tattered shirt. The bright blue eyes that were set amongst the dark skin of her face flitted from the Doctor to Rose. Just when Rose thought that she was about to run, the little girl shifted once more and muttered under her breath.
"I'm Aloucia," she uttered. It was barely above a whisper, but still echoed off the walls of the cold, dark room.
Judging by her stance, Aloucia hadn't dropped her guard very much at all. Every so often her mouth would open and then close again as words hung unsaid in the air.
"What's wrong, Aloucia?" Rose spoke softly to her, inching closer to the bars while still seated on her bench. "Whatever it is, we can help." She gestured between herself and the Doctor with an index finger.
Aloucia barely nodded before the Doctor lowered himself to the floor. He sat back on his haunches and clasped two sturdy bars in his fists. The Doctor's gaze softened and his lips quirked up on both edges into a gentle smile. He'd remained on the sidelines of this conversation, but taking note of the child's desperation it was dire and needed to be addressed.
"Tell me what's happened, Aloucia. We can help you if you tell us," he said gently, though there was a subtle hint of urgent concern, the sound that was always there when something was not quite right.
She inched an apprehensive step backward and glanced quickly at Rose. Rose affirmed the Doctor's intentions with a confident nod and another dazzling smile. Aloucia spun her head to the door, the long locks of silver hair following suit. She craned her neck to see out of the crack in the door that she left open only ajar. When she was sure enough that it was safe to converse with the captives and not get caught herself, she turned her attention back to the two people in the cell.
She was met with two returning expectant gazes. Aloucia rushed to the bars and sat on the floor, cross-legged, in front of where the Doctor was crouched. Rose and the Doctor could finally get a good look at their visitor.
She was indeed like the other locals; dark skin, icy blue eyes, long silver hair. While the fundamental shared characteristics were still the same, she was extremely thin and covered head to toe in dirt. Smudges of mud streaked her cheeks. It made Rose break out in a grin, the thought of a little girl who played and ran with the boys just as well as the rest of them. Aloucia had small braids in her hair that weaved through the rest of the unbraided hair. Her clothes were stained and tattered, made of leather hides and some grey furs. Small fingers clung to the bars, just under the Doctors' larger hands.
"It just started two weeks ago. People; friends, relatives, all being snatched away into the night if they've not made it in by nightfall!" she exclaimed, no longer holding back the words that everyone else around her were fearful of voicing. Now that her concerns had a voice, it was a dam breaking and the words and emotions flooded away with it. Aloucia was trembling.
"Snatched. What do you mean, 'snatched'?" the Doctor questioned, his eyebrow arching into the fringe of his hairline.
"They're being stolen!" Aloucia clarified. "Right off the streets."
"By who?" Rose asked, casting a glance to the Doctor, who in turn glanced at her. "Who is stealing people?"
Aloucia was getting frustrated. What was desperation and fear was now anger and hurt, a sense of loss for the people already taken away. "I… I don't know! They take the faces of other people. Faces we know, and then…" she looked directly at the Doctor, "Ones we don't."
"People that look like people, but aren't really people," the Doctor concluded simply. "So, if you think I've…" he paused a moment, a spark of genius hitting him, alighting his brown eyes. "No, you don't. You don't think it's me. Clever, you. It was someone else who has…" he pulled a hand down his face, releasing the bars to stand to full height again. The Doctor paced the small cubicle-sized cell, shoving his hands in his already unruly hair. "Oh! It's completely at random! Otherwise, no one would be able to copy a face like mine. Just look at it. Nice, eh? Rose!" She jumped at the sound of her name echoing off the walls, having not paid much attention to the Doctors' half devised thoughts and theories. "You'd know it best as a random number generator!"
"Yeah, and?" Rose muttered, eliciting a look from the Doctor as if she'd just dribbled all over her shirt.
"Don't you see? We've never visited this place, and I've changed. For someone to borrow my looks, and have 'me' snatch people off the streets, they'd have no idea who I am. Therefore, it's a random series of features and characteristics."
"Fine, but what about the people who she does know? They've borrowed their 'features and characteristics' too." Rose added helpfully.
"Well, why use a random number generator when the back of a fortune cookie already supplies a number for you? Just use what you have! What ever gets the job done! But then there is the matter of 'who'. Who uses faces of people you know? Who uses a double or a counterpart to…" he paused again, his eyes settling on the child as if she is some source of inspiration. "Doppelganger."
"A what?" Rose and Aloucia ask in stereo unison.
"A Doppelganger. Usually considered 'ghosts'. They are doubles, copies, and replicas of the living human, generally get their thrills and chills off of haunting, especially the original counterpart. From the sounds of it, Aloucia, they're not ghosts at all. Not when they're hopping away with your friends. Well, when I say hopping…"
"Doctor," Rose warned giving a fleeting glance to the confused child still seated on the ground outside the bars.
"Oh, right. They're not ghosts, Rose. They are living flesh, or we can only assume." The Doctor scratches at the side of his neck, the heel of his palm pressed against his collarbone. "But that takes an incredible amount of energy to supply bodies with that mentality, let alone random faces."
The Doctor was on a roll. He could feel it. His brain was working overtime, casting aside and conjuring new theories and ideas, faster than his lips could move. His thoughts were scattered a short moment later when a shrill scream was issued from outside. While Rose and Aloucia had lost time, and only recently becoming full aware of the moonlight pouring in from the small windows, the Doctor had simply forgot what happens at night.
"Aloucia! If we're to help, I need your help in return. My coat, there, has a…" calling it a sonic screwdriver might have some lasting damage to the time lines on this planet, or worse, confuse the poor child. "A… pen," he spat out lamely. "The left pocket, next to the wind-up mouse and bubble solution." The Doctor sniffed and looked briefly at Rose, who was giving him that look.
While Rose and the Doctor were having a short discussion as to the contents of his jacket pockets, Aloucia gave up the search and felt around the darkness, following the wood of the desk. When she came around to the front of the desk, she lowered her exploring hands to a knob and pulled the drawer out. Inside was a small skeleton key, filed down roughly to fit the locks of each cell door.
With key in hand, she proudly presented it to the Doctor. Upon taking it, he muttered, "Just as good as a sonic screwdriver, I guess."
He reached his arm through the bars and unlocked the cell door. With a high pitched creak, it swung opened. Like a madman, he dashed out the door, taking up his brown jacket into the crook of his arm on the way out into the night air. Rose hurried Aloucia along, following the Doctor before he disappeared from view.
Outside, the Doctor expected chaos and pandemonium at best, but was almost disappointed when there was no one in sight. Not even a single soul was outside on the streets. The fires were stoked; the lights were dimmed in houses. Worse yet, he hadn't had the chance to hear from which direction the scream came from. No passersby to ask, not even a witness.
By the time Rose and Aloucia caught up with the Doctor, he was already pulling on his coat over his arms and adjusting the collar, but his gaze was distantly searching.
"Who screamed?" Rose asked as she placed her hands on the small child's shoulders for comfort.
"Good question. I don't know," the Doctor murmured in crestfallen wonder. The Doctor knelt down on one knee in front of Aloucia, and asked urgently, "Have you ever seen where they take them? Where the Doppelgangers go?"
"That way, to the mansion, I guess," Aloucia whispered, as if it was a best kept secret pried from her.
"And where's that then? How far?"
"To the south. It's on the peninsula. It's not far from here, maybe a thirty minute walk. Through the canyon." She pointed in the general direction of the mansion.
"How do you know that? You've been there?" the Doctor tipped his head to the side, and continued to eye the child incredulously.
"Hm," she shrugged. "Dad use to do business there with the family, but they left after tough times. No one's lived there for years until recently. Friends told me they've seen things in the windows, but I'm too afraid to go."
"Well, whatever's taken up residence at the manor, something tells me that they're not taking locals up there for tea," He beamed his usual mega-watt grin at Rose. "Well, Rose, care to go visit the neighbors?" No response from his companion. "Rose?" He tried again.
Again, she said nothing but just stared past the Doctor's shoulder. He traced her fear frozen gaze until he had to turn around. Behind him stood a tall figure, clad in brown pinstripes and brown coat matching his own. His face was shrouded in shadows, but the Doctor could only guess. The still figure was the Doctor's own doppelganger, his copy, and duplicate. The Doctor swallowed uncomfortably, clearing his throat as he slipped a hand into his left coat pocket. There was only one thing at that moment that came to mind to say.
"Oh."