Donna had been asleep for seven hours, sixteen minutes, and forty-three seconds. Initially the anesthesia had kept her under, but as that wore off her exhausted body slipped into natural slumber.

The Doctor checked her IV again. Her fluid volume was up, but she would still require at least one more bag of plasmaline solution. She'd lost a significant amount of blood due to the hemorrhaging. He'd finally administered clotting drugs, once he'd been certain that all the foreign tissue had been expelled.

She'd been so frightfully pale and still. When a hint of color returned to her cheeks, he'd felt immensely relieved. She'd begun to improve gradually yet steadily after that. Now she was clean and dressed in a soft, loose nightshirt, resting comfortably in the infirmary bed. He sat in a hard plastic chair at her side.

His gaze moved from her face to the monitor above the bed. Her heart rate was increasing fractionally; she'd wake soon. He stood on stiff legs and made one more pass through the large room, checking that he'd removed all traces of the ordeal from view. The examination couch was clean again, and the floors were spotless. All of the equipment, save the IV stand and monitor at the bed, was tucked away.

There would be nothing overt to remind Donna of her experience. He hoped that would make it a little less painful for her. For the fifth or sixth time, he lifted his hand toward her face. He could take the memories from her, erase it all so that she would never need to know. It was tempting—sorely tempting—but probably more so for his sake than hers.

He lowered his arm slowly and sat down again. He watched her face, noting the increased eye movement as she rose slowly to consciousness. Donna took a deep, steady breath, and he permitted his mouth to twitch into a half smile.

Her eyes opened. She was a little bleary, still weak, and possibly sore, though he'd added an analgesic to her IV solution. Her sleepy gaze moved over the white ceiling then lowered to roam languidly over him.

"Donna." The relief in his voice almost surprised him.

"Doctor?" She squinted in confusion.

"You're in the infirmary," he reminded her. "You're going to feel a bit peaky for a while, but that's to be expected. Are you in any pain?"

She seemed to consider the question. "No, don't think so."

He could tell when the memories returned in full. Her placidly dazed expression changed abruptly to one of distress. Her arms moved beneath the blankets, and he knew she was tentatively touching her abdomen.

"You're all right," he reassured her. "Everything's going to be fine."

She blinked at the sudden surge of tears. "The baby?"

He shook his head and took her hand. "Do you remember what happened?"

Donna closed her eyes. "It hurt so much, and I was so cold. I was scared, terrified for all those people. So I told you… let you do it." Her eyes opened to meet his. "You did it."

"Once the connection was broken, your body took over. It knew what to do."

Her hand moved beneath the sheet again. "I don't feel anything…"

"I've given you painkillers. We'll keep those up for a few days to be sure you don't experience any discomfort."

"Am I…" She seemed reticent to articulate her thoughts—a rarity for Donna Noble. He understood, though, and waited patiently until she spoke again. "What happened? I mean, what'd you have to do to me?"

"Essentially, you miscarried. I gave you medication to maintain fluid balance and regulate your respiration and heart rate." He touched the IV line. "This is a saline and plasma solution. I'm going to give you one more bag when this one's finished, then you should be back to normal."

"Will I?"

"What do you mean?"

She pulled her arms from beneath the blanket so that she could rest her hands over her belly in plain view. "You said… I think I remember you telling me that there could be damage?"

"If the pregnancy had continued any further, there would've been. But you're already healing, and you're going to be just fine. There's nothing to suggest that you won't be able to have a child one day."

"Really?"

He rested his hand over hers. "Really."

She swiped at her wet cheeks with her hand.

"Here," he said, reaching for a damp cloth on the bedside table, "let me." Gently he wiped away her tears.

"I can see it all so clearly now," she told him softly. "But I couldn't before. It was like I couldn't see anything but him."

"That was the psychic connection. It definitely affected your thoughts."

Abruptly she reached up to grip his wrist. "Did you know?"

Her strength was certainly returning. He glanced down at her hand. "Know what?"

"What cutting the connection would do, back on the planet. Was that why you did it?"

"No," he replied honestly. "I was only trying to save you. I didn't realize until later what effect it would have on the fetus and its link to your body."

She released his wrist, calming visibly. "All right."

Suddenly a flash of inspiration struck him. "Oh Donna, you're brilliant!" he cried.

"Huh?"

"Brilliant. Fantastic, amazing, clever, and just… brilliant!"

"What've I done now?" she asked in bemusement.

He noticed that she was looking a little pale again. "You'll see," he replied cryptically yet affably. "But right now, you need to rest some more."

It was a testament to her ordeal that she did not question him further. She merely nodded and rolled onto her side. In a few moments she had drifted off to sleep again.


After two days of bed rest then three more of lounging about the ship, Donna was growing bored. She remained a bit tired and rather weak, but her strength was gradually returning. The Doctor provided her with light yet nutritious snacks, loads of tea, and eventually full meals. She read and watched movies, and while she ate he chatted with her. But as the days wore on, both began to succumb to a strong sense of ennui.

On the sixth day, she awoke to feel the ship dematerializing. She got out of bed, feeling somewhat more energized than she had in a while. The Doctor appeared in the corridor as she stepped from her doorway.

"Fancy a little stop off?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure," she replied.

He grinned, looking for all the world like the cat that swallowed the canary. He had something up his sleeve. She smiled in anticipation. They were back to their old selves, and that felt great.

Donna dressed then joined the Time Lord in the Console Room. He was studying a screen intently but looked up as she joined him.

"Everything seems to be in order," he told her. "Ready?"

She nodded. "Always."

She was mildly surprised to find herself exiting the ship in darkness. Wherever they were, it was the dead of night. She couldn't even see any stars in the sky. The Doctor switched on a torch and aimed the beam ahead.

"This way," he said, walking ahead of her.

She followed, noting that they were in a wooded area that seemed remote; she didn't see any houses or other buildings. However, as he shifted the light upward, a tall tower loomed above. A single blue bulb pulsed rhythmically at the top.

"Where are we?" she asked. Somehow this didn't seem like a very exciting place…

"Ngengngner-3," he replied.

Immediately Donna grew cold. The Doctor reached for her hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

"Don't worry," he said. "There won't be an eclipse for another seven days. I checked and double-checked, then triple-checked to be sure."

She swallowed around the lump in her throat. "Yeah. Good. That's good."

As she calmed somewhat, her gaze swept the area. They were clearly out in the middle of nowhere. She couldn't imagine why he'd brought her here, unless…

"Oh God," she gasped, listening for any tell-tale sounds. "Is there someone in trouble out here? Did we come to save a woman?"

He was smiling poignantly. "Yes. We came to save them all."

She shook her head in confusion. "I don't understand."

"Don't you? You gave me the answer, the solution that no one had ever thought of. You gave me a way to keep them all safe." He was reaching into his pocket as he spoke. He withdrew a box about the size of hard cover book. He held it up for her visual inspection. "This broadcasts low-level delta waves specific to psionic transmission. It'll disrupt any attempts at psychic connection."

She grasped his meaning quickly. "And without that connection, fetuses won't be able to survive." While the rational part of her mind knew this was a good thing, she still felt a pang in her heart.

"Without the psionic connection, the blastocyst can't develop beyond a few cells," he corrected gently. "The women's bodies will reject them within a matter of hours."

"But they'll still be attacked—used by those bastards."

"For a time, yes. I'm afraid that's unavoidable. But once the Lledo discover that impregnation isn't working anymore, they'll stop trying. And they won't know what's causing it; they'll have to assume that women here have become incompatible. It's happened in the past, so it could certainly happen again."

"How long?" she asked.

"Until they stop trying?" He looked away for a moment. "I'm not sure, but ultimately they will, and that's what's important."

"Yeah, I suppose so."

"And this way," he lifted the box, "there'll be no repercussions. They'll be no one to blame because no one will know what caused it."

"What if someone finds the box?"

"They won't." He passed her the torch, and she held it to light his way.

Then he strode to the tower and, nimbly as a monkey, climbed up the metal supports until he was only a few meters from the top. Donna watched as he put the box in place then did something with the sonic screwdriver to secure it. With a satisfied if somewhat grim grin, he tapped a button on the transmitter then descended to join her on the ground.

"It's done," he said.

She shone the torch on the box again, but she couldn't find it. He watched with mild amusement as the light bobbed about. Finally she shifted it to illuminate his smug face.

"What'd you do?" she asked.

"Perception filter—easy peasy for something inorganic and small. No one will ever see it."

She switched off the torch. The night was dark and silent. For a few moments Donna simply stood and took it all in. Then she wrapped her arms around the Doctor and enveloped him in a fierce hug.

"Thank you," she sniffled.

She felt his hand moved over her hair. "No, Donna, thank you. This could never have happened without you. And I'm sorry, so sorry, that you were hurt in the process, but it won't happen again. Everyone's going to be safe because of you."

Donna took a deep breath and wiped her eyes. "Right. Come on then, space man. Let's get out of here. I wanna go someplace warm and bright with really good food, really posh surroundings, and really, really good masseuses. Got anywhere in mind?"

He arched an eyebrow at her and grinned. "Don't I always?"

"Yeah, you do."

He looped a casual, amiable arm around her shoulders as they walked back to the ship.

Atop the tower, the small box whirred very softly, sending out silent succor.


To be concluded in the epilogue…