He looked at the unkempt man in the chair before them, connected to the machine at his side. The Doctor understood what all of this was, and he could not believe that he had not seen it all before now, that he didn't put it all together.
"My God... that's Pierce," gasped Silas.
"How... how is that..." Drucille stuttered.
"Downstairs, that wasn't Pierce. It looks like no one has been dealing with the real Pierce for a few months," The Doctor answered
"What is that thing he's hooked up to, Doctor?" Sarah Jane asked.
"Mind sink. That's... that's future technology. No way is that supposed to be available now. No society has that," he puzzled. This was even deeper than he thought. It was a time anomaly.
"How is that possible? What the bloody hell is it doing to him?" Silas demanded.
"It's uploading his memories to a matrix, giving the assassin full access to Pierce's mind. Everything he knows, everything he's seen, even things he doesn't consciously remember. It literally knows him better than he knows himself. It keeps him in stasis, in the moment that he was put in, so his body can go without nutrition, or function. The only body function that actually continues is the growth of hair and nails. It's so that it can mine his head."
"But... why? I don't understand any of this," Drucille shook her head.
"It's beyond you, and I'm not insulting your intelligence, it's a fact. In short, this is about me," The Doctor explained. "This party was a set up, from the beginning. That assassin was here to kill me, because whoever controls it, knew I'd come to Pierce's party. That's why the doors, and windows are laced, and deadlocked. This place is meant to hold me."
"Then why murder everyone else?" Sarah asked.
"It shot itself to throw me off the trail; banked the shot off the mirror, and played possum. It's a robot, so there is not pulse, or signs of life," he ignored her question for the moment, but he would get around to it, "with my sonic screwdriver, I would have been able to scan it, and see the android inside, but without it, it looked like a corpse. The first to die, was the first to kill."
"You asked last night if this was a game Drucille? It is, it absolutely is. Our mastermind, he was killing people as the game's incentive. The longer I took to figure it out, the more people died, even adding a second party as mitigating factor. My enemy is testing me. The keys, hiding the real Pierce, the dead man being the killer; all of it is a puzzle I was supposed to solve."
Who was deranged enough to put this together? The Mistress? No, she was too egotistical, she would have shown up by now. Davros? No, not his style. He preferred mass murder. Who?
"Is this what you do?" Silas started. He Doctor waved him off. He needed to think.
Silas susddenly grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around roughly. His eyes were full of angry tears, his lips quivering with fury.
"Is it?" he shouted, "just fall out of the damn sky, and destroy people's lives? Twice I've met you, and both times, practically everyone dies! Do you always do this? I used to think you were a hero!" he pointed violently at Pierce, "he, used to think you were a hero! You're just a bringer of death!" He was silent for a long time, looking into the eyes of a victim of his presence here.
"That was your mistake," he replied darkly, "I'm not a hero." He turned his back, his attention on Pierce. He walked over to machine he was hooked up to, pressing the switch on the side. "But I am getting you out of here."
Slowly, the holo-globe faded, disappearing. He watched as Pierce twitched, and shuddered, his eye shooting open with a gasp. His arms went wild, swinging a left hook at the air, tearing the electrodes from his temple.
"Get off o' me you son of a!" he started, before looking around blankly, blinking a few times. "What the bloody 'ell happened? Where am I? And..." his cycoptic gaze fell on Sarah Jane first, then The Doctor, "my God, smack me mother sideways."
"Hello Pierce, welcome back to the land of the living," greeted The Doctor.
"What... what happened? Last thing I remember, I couldn't open my front door, and this metal... blighter jumped me, and now I'm here!" He swung his legs over, standing. He was a tad shakey, but considering most who ended up hooked to those could barely function when they first woke up, he was already in better shape than most.
"Cliff notes? There's a robot assassin in your house pretending to be you, most of your staff, and business partners have been murdered, and we have two out of three keys to your front door, and need to get out of here before it kills us all. Caught up?" The Doctor rattled off.
"Thirty something years later, and you're still up to the same stuff eh?" he smirked, shaking his head, "got a plan to get rid of it?"
"None what so ever," he returned.
"Figures," he dug into his jacket pocket, producing a sickle shaped key, teeth on both ends, just like the other two. "This help?"
"Abundantly," The Doctor nodded as Sarah Jane took it.
"I don't know if it'll work, that thing locked the doors on me remotely," Pierce shrugged.
"Alright then, let's get out of here, get help!" Silas said.
"Can you walk?" Sarah asked, laying a hand on Pierce's shoulder.
"I'm fine. 'Gonna take more than that piece a crap to take me out, let's get out of here," he boasted. If he wasn't careful, overconfidence would be the death of him.
They moved from the panic room, and into the pantry, The Doctor again stepping over the body of young, sweet Felicia. Was what Silas said true? Was this all he wrought in his path? It was not the first time he had heard that said about him, and it probably wouldn't be the last. He would like to rail against it but... it wasn't entirely false. So many died because of him...
"Christ..." he heard Pierce whisper, as he looked at Felicia. They moved out into the kitchen, greeted by the twin bodies of Geneviev, and Winston, as well as the still unconscious Barlow. Pierce said nothing, but a deep sigh showed his grief well enough.
They moved through the maze of halls, The Doctor still gripping the Cyberman's hand. He had no screwdriver, so, other than his wits, and charms, it was his singular defense. It was coming for him now, he could feel it.
They exited into the main hall. Down the steps was the front door, for which they had the keys.
Standing between them, and the exit, was the other Pierce. The melted hole still in his chest, he stood rod straight, unmoving. His eyes were dead, lifeless.
Slowly, it's skin shifted, separating in to miniscule cubes. Each one rolled around, and into one another, cycling into the host itself, leaving behind the original android. He had seen it's type before , though it had obviously upgraded since then. A cold nausea settled in him.
It was mostly human in shape, though it's limbs consisted of metal rods. It's head appeared almost like a spoon-shaped lightbulb, and it's hands were thick clamps. It's barrel chest was lit with a cold blue light.
A Spoonhead. He knew who was doing this, no matter how impossible. There was only one being that used those. The last time he saw them, they were formidable, but not to be compared to some of his other enemies. This one however, was different.
He noted the targeting laser on it's shoulder, a yellow beam swaying back, and fourth as it searched for a target. It's stick limbs were wrapped with flexible coils, almost mimicking corded muscles. The metal it was created of, shown silver. It was unnatural, and only one type of robot did that. It was built out of Cyberman metal.
"You... you're dead," The Doctor, stated, pointing at it.
"Obviously, you were mistaken," the cold, calculated voice transmitted through the android. It could only belong to one being; The Great Intelligence.
"No, no I'm not. I watched you leap into my timestream at my grave!" He realized how insane he sounded to everyone else, but it was arbitrary at this point. This opponent, and he, had history.
The Great Intelligence was an entity of pure arrogance, and evil. No one knew from where he came, but he left destruction in it's wake. From bringing to life predatory snow to devouring people's minds through their computers, The Doctor had foiled his insidious plans over, and over.
When last he met him, The Great Intelligence was a formless wraith. It had hooked onto the body of a scientist named Doctor Simeon, whom The Doctor destroyed. Though formless, he still was able to wreck havoc with it's incorporeal allies, The Wispermen. After abducting his friends, it forced The Doctor to go to the planet containing his own grave, Trenzalor. There, he lept into The Doctor's timestream, thereby killing itself, but ripping apart The Doctor's life in the process. Only through the intervention of The Doctor's companion Clara, was the damage healed.
But it would not have healed The Great Intelligence. His presences was... impossible.
"My my, your becoming addled in your old age, aren't you?" he asked, "Think! Think about your grave! You didn't die on Trenzalor as you were supposed to! You cheated your demise!"
"Which means you, and Clara never jumped into my timescar, because it never actually existed" The Doctor finished. Trenzalor was supposed to be his final battle. On his final regeneration, he spent eight-hundred years fighting a war he did not belong in. Only through the intervention of the Time Lords was he given a new set of regenerations, allowing him to "cheat death". He hadn't realized The Great Intelligence would as well. How could he be so dull.
"Now you understand. You've given me another chance, you see. Another chance to end you as I was supposed to," he gloated.
"Why do you remember it?" The Doctor asked, "it never happened, why to you still remember it?"
"The same reason you do," he replied, "I have evolved in the time since we last met. I saw the entirety of your life in that scar, and when the Time Lords allowed you to live, I saw the rest of it, and all of the blood you will shed for eons to come! I have become a temporal being, existing outside the laws of time, just like you." A chill ran through him. The Great Intelligence was practically that already. For him, it was like ascending to Godhood.
"If you are so "evolved," he quoted sarcastically with both fingers, "than why all of this barbarism? Why not just kill me in my sleep, or while I'm in the loo? Why kill all these other people?"
"It is proof, Doctor. I want you to see you can't save them, and how your incompetence caused their deaths. I want you to realize that all you are is an angel of destruction. And now that you do, you will share their fate" he chuckled. Pain tore into his chest. In his hearts, he knew he was right. This was his fault, all of it. He could do nothing about that, not now. Nothing except stop this madman, before he did this again.
"You have made a grievous error. You have proved nothing, and done nothing but make me angry. You want me? Here I am. Give it your best shot," The Time Lord threatened.
"My pleasure." As those final words came, so too did the gun, replacing it's clamp hand. Like lightning, it raised it, firing off a quick shot, aimed at The Doctor. He was faster, catching it in the Cyberman hand. He staggered from the force, running back up to the second level, two more shots scorching the stairs behind him.
The Spoonhead took two long steps, suddenly leaping through the air, over the rail of the balcony, cutting off his retreat.
He turned about, ducking as another shot sizzled over his head, running the other direction.
"Get the door open Sarah!" he yelled, "break the deadlock!" It was focused on him. Perfect. That was just what he wanted. He pulled his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket, holding it in his other hand. If she did her job, as he knew she would, it would be working soon enough.
Sarah Jane tore down the steps, Drucille, Silas, and Pierce right behind her. She needed to do exactly as he said, or he wouldn't survive this. He needed his screwdriver. Following that, he needed her, and she would never abandon him in his time of need.
She did not know who The Great Intelligence was, not really. She had never met that one, but she vaguely remembered seeing him in one of The Doctor's shared memories. Crule, and old. She had dreamt of him after seeing him in those memories, last night as a matter of fact. How ironic was that?
They reached the pair of front doors, and she took out the keys. She slid each into the locks, and turned them. She prayed that The Great Intelligence was too distracted by trying to kill The Doctor that he didn't think to shut the door remotely.
As she turned the final key, and turned the handle, she felt the door move. Slowly, she pushed it open, then it's partner, revealing the outside. She had never been so happy to see that cobblestone walk in her life, nor feel sunshine on her face.
"Go, get out of here!" she pointed to the door, "The Doctor, and I will handle this. Get to safety." She ordered.
"Sarah..." Silas started.
"Don't argue, you practically died last time, not this time," she silenced him. Drucille grabbed Silas' arm, tugging him to the door.
"Thankyou, Sarah. Be careful," she pleaded. The pair walked outside, and rushed down the walk.
"You too Pierce," she said to the old miner. He shook his head.
"I'm not leaving, this is my house, and that bloke upstairs needs me," Pierce replied.
"Listen, you are not equipped for this," she reasoned.
"You two aren't either. Besides, it stole my eye patch," he pointed to his old wound, "I can't stand for that." She snorted unintentionally. She couldn't really argue with that. She also knew how crafty Pierce was years ago. She doubted that had changed.
"Alright," she nodded quickly, trying to formulate a plan, "we need to get two metal platters out of the dining room. I have an idea." It wasn't a good idea, by any means, but it was better than nothing.
The Doctor ran down the halls, into the den room everyone had holed up in hours before. He just needed time, time for the sonic to turn on. Time for Sarah Jane.
Another bright blue ball burned through the wall behind him, heralding the arrival of his pursuer. He flipped over the near by sofa, diving behind it as yet another shot blazed where he had been. He huddled up behind it, finding himself next to Ricard's corpse. Another blast came, tearing a quarter of the dead man away in a steaming haze.
"You cannot hide from me, Doctor!" The Great Intelligence's voice shouted from the android. "You're time is over!"
He looked down at his sonic screwdriver, and smiled. The light-up head was lime green. She had done it, the door was open.
He pointed the tool at the Cyberman hand, hoping this setting was correct. He didn't have enough time to figure it out if he was mistaken.
He watched as the hole in the center of the palm light up with electricity. It was unstable, but working, and that was more than enough.
He popped from behind the couch, another blue shot ripping inches from his head. He pointed the screwdriver at the hand, the palm facing, the robot, and pressed the button.
The ball of lightning shot from the hand, hitting the android in the chest. It was violently flung backwards, smacking into the wall. It managed to fire a return shot as it fell, blowing a hole in the ceiling.
This was his chance, and The Doctor took it, leaping the sofa, and running from the room. Knocking it down has bought him time, and with his screwdriver in working order, his chances of survival were much higher. Another bolt sizzled at his back as he charged through the door.
He tore back out into the entry room, sliding down the banister of the massive staircase. It was behind him, he could hear it in the hall. Maybe he could take it outside, trap it in the woods, or something else.
"Doctor!" Sarah Jane yelled. She was exiting the hall to his left, Pierce right behind her. Both carried silver platters; reflective metal.
"What can we do?" Pierce asked. His head calculated it almost instantly.
"Ballroom, now!" He yelled. As they ran, he switched his setting on the sonic screwdriver, pointing it at the Cyberman hand. "If I can get this right, I can make the repusler oscillators absorb, and reflect the shots!" The warbling whine of the sonic screwdriver reached it's pinnacle, finishing it's job.
"English?," Pierce hollered.
"I can deflect the shots wherever the hell I want."
They entered the ballroom, and he looked up at the, heavy crystal chandelier above them. That... would do it. He jaunted across the room.
"Pierce, you stand here," he yelled. Pierce did as he was told. The Doctor grabbed his platter, angling it up for him. "Keep this just like that!" He walked twenty-five feet to Pierce's left.
" Sarah you stand here," when she had taken position, he angled her platter at Pierce. "Good." They were both out of the way, so their enemy would be focused on him.
Just as they finished, the first blue plasma shot fired into the room, flying past them, scorching the glass behind them.
The Doctor took position in front of the door way, Cyberman hand up, and ready, like a baseball catcher. He just needed it to enter the room's center.
It looked like it was going to oblige him. It started on a jog, the shots coming faster. Like a shield, he deflected the first back at the charging android, and the second into the floor. He quickly backed up as it charged into the room, it's volleys continuing.
The Doctor dodged one, blasting the floor where he had been, and caught the next, throwing it down the hall. He continued to back up, as the android continued forward, tossing another pair of shots. The Doctor deflected both aside, blowing a pair of holes in the buffet table.
"You are running out of places to run Doctor. You cannot keep this up forever," The Great Intelligence taunted. The Doctor looked up; it was right under the chandelier.
"I don't have to," he growled as it shot one final time. The Doctor caught it with the hand, quickly spinning to his left, and thrusting it at Sarah Jane. The blue shot's aim was true, pinging off the platter, and into Pierce's. It streaked toward the ceiling, severing the chain high above. The Spoonhead looked up just in time to see the terrible descent.
With a thunderous crash, the metal and crystal monstrosity landed atop the killer robot, crushing it beneath it's weight. Glass shattered throughout the room, spreading across the floor. The Doctor shielded his face, and when he looked, he saw the devistated Spoonhead beneath. It's limbs were twisted into a mess, and a piece of metal had impaled its neck. It's chest sparked painfully, and it's gun hand twitched violently.
The Doctor twiddled with the sonic screwdriver, pointing it at the hand. It charged with electricity and he overcharged it, just for good measure. He pointed it at the fallen Spoonhead.
"You cannot escape me, Doctor," The Great Intelligence taunted though his fallen avatar, "I am everywhere. I see everything. You cannot run, you cannot hide, and you cannot win. I will destroy you, as you have destroyed so many others." The Doctor smiled, and nodded, kneeling down. When he did speak it was barely above a whisper.
"I don't know where you are, because I am not foolish enough to think this is your new body. I don't know what your plans are. And I have no plan myself. If you are as intelligent as you claim to be, you should be very afraid." He depressed the button on the screwdriver. "I will see you soon." The electrical shot hit the Spoonhead flush in the face, shattering it, revealing a mass of newly melted wires. It was too much for the android to bear, and the blue lights winked and went out as it shut down.
The Doctor set the Cyberman hand down, and stood up, dark eyes still on the Spoonhead. A dark feeling spread over him. This was not over, not by a long shot. He had fought The Great Intelligence many times, but he had never been more driven. Wherever this went, it was a place of chaos, and darkness.
He felt Sarah Jane's hand on his shoulder, and he touched it with his own, gripping it, resisting the urge to tremble.
"I'm with you, Doctor, until the very end," she comforted, almost as though she read his thoughts. He nodded. That was what scared him the most.
In a flash of light, Jack Harkness landed, stumbling into the walls of the alley. He coughed, and snorted; Vortex travel always clogged his sinuses horribly.
He rolled his shoulders, putting on his navy overcoat against the cold. He walked out of the stone alley, and into the street.
He heard the familiar cacophony of shouting voices, and distant bells. The clip-clop of hooves heralded a horse drawn carriage, passing him by. A light snow fluttered from the sky, and he could see the smog rising from the factories in the distance. Victorian London.
His investigation had lead him here. He had discovered his enemy, this Great Intelligence. His secrets were known to him, and he was now on the trail of The Doctor. It had taken some time but, according to his informant, The Doctor always returned here.
He looked at the address on the paper in his hand. 13 Paternoster Row, then up at the mansion sized home in front of him. He was here. He shrugged, almost patting himself on the back. He was still damn good with a manipulator. He was to seek someone called Madam Vastra. Who that was, he did not know. But any 'madam' was a friend of his.
He walked up the front steps, to the double doors. He knocked three times, and waited. When the door opened, he was shocked by what he saw.
The small man was shaped, and colored like a potato, with stocky arms, and stubby legs. It's thick mouth was attempting to smile but it seemed like more of grimmace. He had seen Sontarans before, though never like this. He wore some kind of jacket, and cravat like a butler.
"State your business quickly, girl, or I will annihilate you for your interruption of my lady's meal time!" The Sontaran shouted aggressively.
"Uhhhh..." Jack stammered. He was, for once, struck speechless.
"Let Capitan Harkness though, Strax," a pretty, woman's voice floated through the house, "I've been expecting him for quite some time."
"Right this way, my lady," Strax replied, stepping out of the way with a nod. Jack tenuously walked through the entrance, glancing back at the butler.
"May I take you hat ma'am? Hand grenades? Coat?" Strax asked.
"I'm not wearing a hat, I'm not a ma'am, I don't have hand grenades, and I'll keep the coat, thankyou," Jack rattled off. What was with this guy?
"Are you quite sure?" he asked befuddled, "have you been concussed recently, you seem quite confused." Jack shook his head, blinking a few times. This was going to be interesting, he could tell already.
(Author's Note: And thus is the end of yet another tale. I hope everyone enjoyed it. This one was very difficult for me, so I am happy to have finished it. Curious as to what Jack found out, and how? Do tune in to The Harkness Files. I would like to thank a few very special people before I go. First and foremost, Feline38. This story was in development hell before she helped me straighten it out. She gets the big thankyou here. BannerFanner is another, who has been my constant friend and who is currently co-writing The Harkness Files. I need to thank MirricatBlackwood, who is by far my best friend. No one can replace you bestie! And last but not least, BurgundyHope, who will never truly understand her impact on both my writing and my life as a whole. To the rest of you, thankyou for reading. I do hope you stay on for the next installment. See you soon Outlaw Gents and Shady Ladies)