Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or Torchwood....and now, I don't own a banana. The Doctor thwarted me by using a daring plan which involved a rubber band, two paperclips and half a pineapple. *sigh* CHAPTER NINE: UNSAVOURY HABITS
Jack slipped his mobile phone back into his pocket with a frown. "No luck," he said to Gwen and Ianto, before sitting back down in front of a computer terminal. "He hung up on me."
The three sat in silence for a few minutes, broken only by the tap of fingers on keyboards, and Jack's annoyed mutterings. Finally, he came to a decision.
The captain stood up, slinging his greatcoat on over his shoulders. "I'm just going out for a coffee, okay?" he said, making his way to the door.
Ianto eyed the revolver on Jack's belt. "Right. While you're in London, could you buy me a copy of Master and Commander? I heard that there was a sale on, and have been planning to watch that movie for ages."
Jack rolled his eyes. "Sure," he replied, leaving the hub.
Muttering quietly among themselves, the aliens watched the Doctor's passage with interest. The stunt on the conveyor belt had surprised them, and they weren't willing to capture him just yet. They had been trapped on Earth for many months now, and a bit of entertainment was always a welcome diversion. This man was exciting enough that anyone who could leave their stations to watch him on the surveillance cameras did.
Shilok had been sent down to the conveyor room to investigate, but had instead lured the man deeper into the factory. The aliens were treating it as a game to alleviate the boredom of sitting on a backwater planet for half a year. The commander of the mission walked in through a set of sliding doors on the side of the room. All the aliens clustered around the surveillance screen looked at him guiltily, but he didn't mind. If they could keep themselves entertained, it would mean less work for him. Better troop morale was directly linked to a better performance; all officers learned that early on.
He was sitting at his computer terminal when a cry rose up from behind him. "What?" he growled throatily as he spun around to face the group gathered around the surveillance screen.
"He's gone sir!" one of the soldiers cried, quickly cycling through all of the possible views of the factory.
The commander walked over to the monitor. "What do you mean gone?"
"Just vanished sir," the soldier replied, worry evident in her voice. "None of the tracking systems are picking him up."
"Well, you better find him fast, or you will have to report your failure directly to the High Council," the commander snarled in a threatening tone. The female soldier cowered for a few seconds before frantically trying to find that man. If she didn't find him, there would definitely be hell to pay.
"Hello, what do we have here?" the Doctor whispered under his breath, staring up at a small nook in the wall. "A security camera. But who's watching?" He silently cursed himself for talking out loud again. That was one habit he needed to break. It wasn't as if the walls were interested in his innermost feelings. Actually, he thought to himself as he inspected the camera, perhaps they were.
The Doctor took his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket, and set it to transmit a signal that would jam the cameras when he walked past them. He was trying to do a discreet investigation, and he didn't want prying eyes watching his move, whether they were benign or not. Most of the time, they turned out to be the latter anyway, so it didn't really matter that he was blocking the signals.
With a shake of his head, the Doctor set off down the dusty corridor. He had been going off on a wide tangent there which really didn't help him with his current investigations. So, what did he know about the disappearances?
It was something to do with the snowglobes, that much he was sure of. The rest of the facts he'd uncovered, well, they didn't make sense at all. First of all was Thoraln Industries. How had it gained so much power over such a short period of time? And who had chosen the company name? And what was UNIT's interest in all this? All of those questions remained unanswered in his mind, but he knew he would find out sooner or later. Probably at a really inconvenient time.
The Doctor was so deep in thought that he almost walked into the shiny metal door at the end of the passage. It took the Time Lord a moment to register that it was even there, but once he did, he felt that some of his questions were starting to make sense.
The grimy concrete walls of the passage looked out of place next to the metal door, as if they were the things of foreign design. The door itself looked like a submarine hatch, with a large wheel welded to the centre of the metal.
"Snazzy," the Doctor muttered to himself, running his finger along the surface of the door. It was almost frictionless, and silky smooth. "But what's it made of?"
He lent closer to the door, and gave it a quick lick. He savoured the taste for a moment, before gave it another short lick. "Titalium Carbide," he whispered to himself. "Thoraln and Titalium Carbide? Looks like I've found more questions than I answered." As usual, he added inside his head. "No way to go but forward."
He gripped the wheel with both hands, and spun it around with a flourish. It spun easily beneath his fingers, and the door swung inwards with the hiss of escaping gas. As he stepped through the doorway, white strip lights running along the ceiling flickered into life, revealing a corridor made of the same silvery metal as the door. The floor was a metal grille, covering up the various electronics that ran the length of the passageway.
Just as the Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver, the door behind him swung shut. There didn't seem to be any way to open it from this side, which was a bit stupid in his opinion. What if you needed to go to the bathroom or something? Although, a ship this nice would probably have its own plumbing.
The Time Lord shrugged. Now there was definitely no way to go but forward.
