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Chapter 7: Perception Filters

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"Three TARDIS keys, three pieces of the TARDIS, all with low-level perception properties, because- well, in theory at least- the TARDIS is designed to blend in." she saw the amused looks on Jack and Martha's faces, but didn't react to them. She knew they thought it was very funny that she'd even suggest the TARDIS could blend in. "Add the code for the Archangel network, and we can access that signal to boost the perception properties of the key, and..."

She picked up her own key, and held it up. "Martha, you can see me, right?" Martha nodded. She put the key around her neck, "How about now?" Martha blinked, trying to focus on her, but it didn't work. When Martha's eyes wandered off to one side, the Doctor waved and said, "Over here." Martha shook her head, and tried again, still unable to look right at her.

"It's like... I know you're there, but I don't wanna know." Martha finally said, giving up on trying to focus on her.

The Doctor took off the key, "That's it, exactly." she said, smiling brightly at Martha, "It just shifts your perception a bit. Doesn't make us invisible, just..." she thought for a second, trying to recall the word from those books he had discussed with Martha once, "Unremarkable."

Martha grinned. She got the reference. Even Tish and Jack seemed to get it, as Tish smiled as well, albeit weakly, and Jack nodded to show he understood.

She handed the other two keys to Jack and Martha, then turned to Tish, "It's probably safer for you if you stay here. It's abandoned, no one's likely to search it any time soon."

"What about Martha?" Tish asked.

"She'll be with me." the Doctor said simply, as if this was a perfectly reasonable answer that assured Martha's safety. Not an entirely accurate suggestion, she had to admit. "And we've only got three keys, anyway."

Tish frowned, "Is there anything I can do from here?" she asked, suddenly sounding quite determined to help. For having been terrified- and apparently a bit traumatised by the death of that woman who had sent them the Archangel data- she had recovered pretty quickly and clearly wanted to do something useful.

"Here, this is the number for Jack's communicator. Check the news on your phone, and text us if something important happens." the Doctor said, quickly writing down the number and giving it to Tish, "And whenever you contact us, call yourself Cindy, try to make the message look casual or innocent. Mobile phone signals are very easy to intercept."

Tish nodded, clearly knowing it was a cheap attempt to get her to stay here and think she was being useful, but also willing to accept it for the safety of not trying to charge into the battle.

"When did I ever give you my number?" Jack asked, confused.

"You didn't." the Doctor answered innocently.

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So, Jack, Martha and the Doctor left Tish in the abandoned warehouse, hopefully safe for now, and made their way, unnoticed, out into the main street. It was still early morning, before sunrise, and they had been walking for some time, now. The other two simply followed the Doctor, trusted her to know where they were going.

Good thing, then, that she did know. She could sense the Master's presence. He wasn't trying to hide from her. He wanted her to find him. Although she was fairly certain that he had minions out there looking for her, too. He probably didn't care whether she found him first or not, that was only a minor part of the game.

But now she led the way onto an airfield, sensing that this was where he was. Why, she didn't know. She didn't care, it was about six in the morning, and as he had so blatantly stated, she did not want to miss the eight o'clock deadline for whatever he was up to.

When she saw him, she beckoned for the other two to follow her, as she skirted around the group of soldiers and guards lurking around, until they were at a point where he had his back directly to them.

"So what's the plan?" Jack asked, his voice low, so as not to break the illusion that concealed them.

"These perception filters have two purposes." she answered, just as quietly, "If we can get one around his neck, it will cancel out the illusion he has created. They'll see him for what he really is, then he can be stopped."

"You don't want to kill him, do you?" Jack asked, "Because I was just thinking how easy it might be to use these perception filters to sneak up behind him and break his neck."

"Now that sounds like Torchwood." she retorted coldly, "Just go with my plan." She smiled rather suddenly, but the coldness was still there as she added, "Jack, I know it sounds bad, but if I fail, you should try next. No offence, but your life is more expendable than Martha's, what with death never sticking for you."

"Thanks." he muttered, somehow not sounding sulky or sarcastic at all. He seemed to interpret his inability to stay dead as a gift, rather than the curse she saw it as.

"Stay here for now." and with that, she stepped forward slowly.

The President of the United States of America was approaching the Master and his entourage, holding everyone's attention. She idly wondered why he was here, but then decided it wasn't worth wasting her time on.

The Master jokingly saluted the President. Even if she hadn't known who he was, she could still tell that he held absolutely no respect for the man, as he spoke, "Mr President, sir."

"Mr Saxon, the British army will stand down. From now on UNIT has control of this operation." the President ordered. Oh, that's just what you don't want to do, give orders to the Master. He never takes well to them.

"You make it sound like an invasion." the Master joked. She noticed the irony in his voice, and shivered slightly at that thought. She wouldn't put it past these... these things that the Master had called 'Toclafane' to be an invasion force of some sort.

"The First Contact Policy was decided by the Security Council in nineteen-sixty-eight and you've just gone and ignored it!" the President snapped. Even the Doctor didn't like his attitude. Typical of the worst sentient beings- and not just humans, even the Time Lords had been guilty of producing such offensive specimens- sticking to old rules when dealing with new issues. And being downright rude while doing so, as well.

She carefully skirted around the close-ranked guards behind the Master, and stepped up behind him, as he answered the President, "Well, you know what it's like. New job, all that paperwork. I think it's down the back of the settee."

The Doctor paused, half-way through taking off the perception filter- as long as she held it she could still choose to remain unnoticed- staring in surprise at this completely out-of-place joke. Utterly ludicrous, and even the ignorant human would recognise it, she was sure.

"I did have a quick look." the Master continued, seemingly unaware of her presence, "I found a pen, a sweet-"

She shook her head, and took the perception filter off properly, ready to follow through on her plan and expose him as the fraud he was. Almost ironic to do so when he's being about as offensive as possible while still maintaining the illusion.

"-a bus ticket, and-" he turned around rather suddenly, and put an arm around the Doctor's waist, pulling her two steps forward and breaking the illusion that concealed her, "-have you met my girlfriend?" The President seemed utterly oblivious to the fact she hadn't been standing there a moment ago. Probably part of the Master's hypnosis, the humans only saw what he wanted them to see.

But how had he known she was there? Maybe her concentration had slipped when he'd started being an irreverent prat to the President? The joke about losing the paperwork, he may as well have said the dog ate it, and she'd had to fight not to laugh at it. That must have been it.

As soon as she was visible to everyone, his hand moved to grip her wrist, and the command of 'drop it' rang clearly in her mind. She dropped the perception filter on the ground, and tried to smile at the President. Considering she had taken an instant dislike to him, and was even less fond of her current situation, the smile was blatantly forced.

"Mr Saxon, I'm not sure what your game is, but there are provisions at the U.N. to have you removed from office unless you are very very careful. Is that understood?"

The Master decided to antagonise the President even further, it seemed. No one would behave in such a manner without deliberately wanting to annoy someone, and it didn't actually bother the Doctor so much, because she actually thought it was funny when he mimed zipping his lips like a child might.

"Are you taking this seriously?" the President demanded, angrily.

The Master only nodded. He still had a good grip on her wrist, but she didn't feel any inclination to try to fight him right now.

The President shook his head, clearly exasperated with the Master's immature behaviour, "To business." he declared, trying to bring the conversation back in the general direction of sanity, "We've accessed your files on these... Toclafane. But first contact cannot take place on any sovereign soil. To that purpose, Aircraft Carrier Valiant is en route. The rendezvous will take place there, at eight AM."

Funny, that sounded like the President had just agreed with everything the Master wanted, except that he wanted to take control himself, and be the great hero who welcomes the aliens, instead of letting the Brits get away with it. The Master, however, decided to be awkward, and mumbled incoherently, keeping his mouth shut. She looked away, unsure whether she was trying to resist the urge to laugh or insult her fellow Time Lord's mental state. Maybe both. Yes, probably both.

The President understandably took offence at the Master's behaviour, "You're trying my patience, sir!" he snapped.

The Master pointedly mimed un-zipping his lips. Now she was definitely fighting the urge to laugh, but at least she was winning that fight. She may disagree with the Master on almost any moral argument in existence, but she did like his sense of humour... most of the time.

"So America is completely in charge?" the Master asked simply.

"Since Britain elected an ass, yes!" the President snapped, "I'll see you on board the Valiant." and he turned to walk away.

"It still will be televised, though?" the Master asked, causing the President to reluctantly look back at him again, "Won't it? Because I promised. And the whole world is watching."

"Since it's too late to pull out, the world will be watching." the President said irritably, turning to actually face the Master as he added pointedly, "Me!" Then he walked away and actually succeeded in leaving this time.

Once he was out of earshot, the Master turned to the Doctor and smiled, "I was wondering if you would make it."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Well, that's good to hear." he said with far too much morbid irony in his tone for her liking. He bent down, and picked up the perception filter she had dropped, "And I wonder what you were going to do with this?" he added, standing up and holding it up where she could see it.

She stared blankly, "Sneak past your guards." she answered, as if it was obvious, and the only possible use for such a thing.

"Hmm, I'm sure." he said, pocketing the perception filter, and showing clearly that he did not believe that was all there was to it. But then very suddenly his attitude changed again, smiling cheerfully, he took her arm as if this really was a date, "We have a private plane ready and waiting. We should reach the Valiant within the hour."

"I like your coat." she noted, in a too innocent tone. It very strongly resembled the cape the Doctor had worn in his own third life.

"I thought you might." he answered.

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"What just happened?" Martha asked, staring dumbstruck as the Master led the Doctor away from them.

"If I told you my theory, you'd want to wash out your brain with disinfectant." Jack answered, also staring after the two Time Lords.

Martha shuddered in disgust at that. "So what do we do now?" she asked pointedly, hoping that further conversation would get rid of the mental picture Jack had just given her.

"Aircraft Carrier Valiant." Jack said, frowning at his wrist device, "It's a UNIT ship, at fifty-eight-point-two north, ten-point-oh-two east."

"How do we get on board?" Martha asked, frowning.

"You're not going to like it." Jack said, holding out his hand, with the wrist-device exposed for her to grab on to.

She rolled her eyes, "This thing's worse than a bad hangover." she muttered, before putting her hand on the wrist device. Jack activated the thing, and they were gone.

She didn't really see or feel anything during the step between locations, but as soon as she landed. Worse than a hangover was being really polite about it.

"God, that thing is rough!" she complained, as she landed painfully on her backside. Although the pain in her head managed to outweigh that minor indignity by far.

"I've had worse nights." Jack retorted, a bit too cheerfully. Once they had both recovered, he added, "Welcome to the Valiant."

Just then, the wrist-device beeped, and Jack checked it. He frowned, then closed it and tried to look innocent. "What was that?" Martha demanded.

"Bad news." Jack said, still scowling, "I'm sorry."

"What?" she asked, fearfully, "What is it?"

"Your parents have been arrested. Tish just saw it on the news." he held out the wrist-device so she could see the text message.

hey jack! cindy. did u hear mr & mrs jones got arrested for 'aiding and abetting' that strange girl with u? ditch her and go out with me

At least Tish was good at playing the part, if someone had intercepted that it would look relatively innocent. "But they didn't-!" Martha started, horrified.

"Does it really matter to him if they did or not?" Jack retorted, but then he stopped himself from continuing, and shook his head, "I'm sorry, Martha. But the only way out of this is to find and stop the Master."

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"I don't understand you, sometimes." the Doctor finally spoke, as they flew up towards the Valiant. The private jet was very nice indeed, plush seats, free drinks, and- as the word 'private' suggests- they had whole place to themselves. Under any other circumstances she would very much enjoy being here, even with the Master. "Well, most of the time, really. I mean, you have a very nice position of power already, plenty of publicly funded luxury." she gestured around the interior of the plane itself, "Why bother going any further?" It wasn't that she felt this way about power herself, never had done, but she understood the Master's desire for it well enough to try to reason with him on his own level.

"One measly little country, not even the most powerful one on this pathetic planet." the Master said, dismissively.

"So you want the Earth?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Earth had never interested the Master much, except for the times he had come here just to cause problems for the Doctor.

He grinned at her, "The world is not enough." he quoted brightly, then added, "I want the universe."

"Why?"

"Because I believe I can take it." he answered simply, "And as the last of the greatest race of all time, we deserve it."

"'We'?"

"Well, mostly me." he said, smirking. He put an arm around her shoulders and leaned closer to whisper, as if he needed to lower his voice when there was absolutely no one else there, "But whether in chains or a crown, you'll be there with me."

"Charming." she hissed, trying to throw his arm off her, but he didn't let her, "You know, it's not too late to stop this."

"Oh, but I promised!" he whined. Who did he promise? Those metal things he insisted on naming after a fairy-tale? Or the mindless television-viewing public? "Besides, the timer's already counting. And admit it, you want to see the President look like a fool as much as I do."

"He doesn't need help with that." she noted, certain that anything the Master might do to that man would be far worse than he deserved.

Still, her snide remark caused the Master to laugh, "You're probably right." But then he seemed to trail off, staring out the window as if at another world entirely.

"What is it?" she asked, when he had been staring for several minutes, giving off an air of intense concentration.

"The drumming." he said, returning his attention to here and now, but not looking at her, "Can't you hear it?" he shot her the briefest glance, just enough for him to see as she shook her head in answer, then continued, "I thought it would stop, but it never does. It never ever stops, inside my head. The constant drumming."

As he spoke, his hand tapped out that beat she had heard before, his fingernails striking the plastic part of the armrest of his seat to make it audible, and it echoed in the back of her mind as well. Four half-beats, exactly the same sound that was now being projected through Archangel to make people trust and believe in him. The rhythm that she had witnessed unwitting humans tapping in her presence, triggered by his hypnotic suggestion.

"What if I could help make it stop?" she asked quietly. So quietly she barely heard it over the echo in her mind. Although, that wasn't saying much, it was probably perfectly audible to anyone who wasn't affected by whatever was causing her to hear this sound.

"It's everywhere." either he hadn't heard, or he didn't want to. It could be either.

"Please let me help you." she said, more clearly.

He turned to look right at her, a gaze so deadly cold it scared her, but then he smiled. Snapping out of his darker thoughts, and pretending they had never existed, he pointed out the window, "Look, we're here."

She looked out, and saw the Aircraft Carrier Valiant coming into view, floating in the clouds. "That's a bit ahead of its time, isn't it?" she asked, suddenly very curious about this ship. But she wouldn't be forgetting the drums in a hurry, either.

"Mmhm, I helped design it. Well, I say 'helped', that's just what they think. It's all mine, really. Every detail." the Master noted smugly, "High-power turbine engines. Gravity deference field generators, salvaged from Torchwood at Canary Wharf. Powered by solar cells, with a nuclear reactor for backup. Phasic shields, and six-point laser beam weapon, again from Torchwood. Those people really knew how to steal good stuff."

The Doctor turned to look at him as the Valiant left her line of sight. They were coming in to land now, "You know, it looks kind of familiar."

"Tell that to your friend, the Captain." he said, smirking, "He might recognise the visual inspiration from somewhere."

She rolled her eyes, and actually hit her forehead with the heel of her hand, understanding the rather sadistic joke that most humans who weren't around in the nineteen-fifties wouldn't get, "You know that's not very funny, right?"

"Oh, I think it's hilarious." he said cheerfully, as the plane finally stopped moving. They had landed. He stood, and offered her his hand, in a very formal way. She stared at the hand for a second, and almost decided to refuse the offer, but what good would that do her? Whereas, playing along and being nice- well, relatively- to him, might get her some leeway to allow for an escape, or better still an opportunity to stop his evil scheme. So she took his hand, and allowed him to lead her off the plane, and onto the Valiant.

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