Martha Jones, possessed by an alien, has walked away from the hotel, toward the beach, looking for the Doctor, whom the alien believes to be out on a boat.

Meanwhile, Francine Jones isn't sure of the Doctor's plan, and she and Donna are locking horns inside the TARDIS...

TWENTY-FIVE

"Le puedo ayudar, querida?" asked a swarthy, long-haired man inside a kiosk on the beach.

Apparently, Martha Jones understands Spanish, the Epidromeas thought.

Then, it used her feet and legs to move forward and sidle up to the counter. Above, her head, there was a sign that said Alquiler de botes, boat rental. "Yes," it said flatly, reaching into Martha's memory banks for the Spanish it needed. "Necesito un bote."

"Well, evidently," said the man, with a laugh, in English. "British eh? What type of boat?"

"One that goes on the ocean," said the alien.

The man raised his eyebrows at a stunning woman in front of him… who appeared to be all looks, no brains.

"Okay. They all do that. Can you be more specific? I mean, do you have any sailing experience?"

The thing closed Martha's eyes, searching her memory, then it said, "No."

"Are you travelling alone?"

"Yes."

"I'm obliged to tell you, it's not safe to be out on the open ocean alone," said the man.

"I'm not interested in your opinion. Just give me a boat."

He shrugged. "All right. I've done my part, legally, as far as that goes. However, you'll still need to sign some papers…"

"I don't have time!" Martha's voice shrieked.

"I'm sorry – I cannot even accept payment from you until you have read, and signed, the declaration, the rental agreement, and the waiver. That is the rule."

"That's ridiculous!" the thing spat at him.

"Maybe so, but it's my job."

"Fine, show me where to sign, and let's get on with it!"

"De inmediato, señora," said the man, who now dug into a drawer at his midsection.

It took him a few seconds to produce the packet of papers in English, that looked dauntingly thick to the alien, who knew, from Martha's experience with renting a boat at this very same kiosk the previous day, that the process would now take at least ten minutes… more, if one opted for insurance, the life-vest waiver, snorkelling gear, et cetera, et cetera.

It sighed heavily, and the swarthy man inside the kiosk was convinced that he was dealing with another beautiful, beach-spoiled, woman, who had no time for him, nor the world.

"Am I boring you, querida?" he asked, with an edge to his voice.

"Yes, horribly, but it looks like I have no choice," the thing said.

He looked at her with venom in his eyes for just a few moments, while she stared, with tedium, at the paperwork. Then, he sighed, and resolved to take as long as possible going through the text with her.

"All righty," he said. "This first page is the declaration… it asks you simply to state that your travel paperwork is in order, your driving licence as issued by your country is currently valid, et cetera, et cetera. Don't worry – I will help you understand, point by point. The first paragraph requires that you are who you say you are. Which reminds me, I'll need an ID."

The thing patted down Martha's pockets. "I don't have one."

The man seemed to take glee in sucking air through is teeth, and saying, "Oh, I'm sorry. Then I cannot rent you a boat."

The Epidromeas took a big, thick, indignant, lungful of air, and wound up to tell off this most ridiculous of beings, on a planet absolutely teeming with ridiculous beings, but then… it stopped. Martha's face changed from tight anger to surprise and wonder. It stared at the sky.

"Señora?" the man said, seeing her attention drift. "Are we finished?"

"No, we are not," the thing hissed, slowly, as it realised what had happened. "We are just getting started!"

"Sorry?" asked the swarthy man, rather confused.

Martha's face lit up. "He's in the hotel! I don't know how he masked himself from detection until now, but he's in the hotel!"

"Who?"

"The Doctor! The wily Time Lord!" Her eyes shifted to the great big hotel up on the hill, less than a half-mile away. "He was out on the sea, but now he's double-backed. He's in cahoots with those do-gooders in the basement!"

"I'm sorry, señora, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"It doesn't matter. I don't need a boat. I need a TARDIS."

And there was a subtle current of air that blew through the area – the man in the kiosk just barely felt it.

And on the beach, in front of a boat-rental kiosk on Mallorca, quite a confused Martha Jones stood, all alone in her own mind.

Francine Jones just wasn't sure how the Doctor's plan was going to work. She had said that it seemed "nebulous," and she didn't understand how anyone could know about the existence of "time anomalous" residual energy clinging to some living things. Knowing that the Doctor is a Time Lord didn't answer the question for her, and frankly, didn't mean much to her. She might be a bit irrational, and/or a hindrance to the process, but her daughter's life was at stake, and her survival depended upon something that Francine couldn't see. She was panicking… it was her prerogative as a mum.

And so, after a heated exchange between Francine and Donna Noble, Tish the relatively level-headed PR rep, stepped in. "I think what my mother is so ungracefully asking is, how could it be said that the Doctor did not drive Martha into something awful this time? I mean, all evidence suggests that…"

"…this whole thing started when he got here?" Donna asked, annoyed. "I'm so bloody sick of people thinking that! Correlation equals causation! Yeah, that's it! I mean, come on! In Pompeii, I get it, but Jesus! You people are clever!"

"Well, clearly, not clever enough, so tell us," Tish requested, calmly.

Donna took a deep breath. And then, "A few days back, the Doctor and I were in the TARDIS, just minding our own business, and, just out of nowhere, there was what the Doctor called, a potential security breach. It meant that there were aliens in the vicinity who had the potential to break through the TARDIS' standard defence system, though they had not done so yet. The Doctor changed the TARDIS' course, and the aliens followed us, which let the Doctor know that they were, indeed, coming after us. So, he pressed that blue button over there, on the console, which put an invisible hard shell around the TARDIS, and let the aliens crash into us. When they did, they literally bounced off us, and sent both ships careening in opposite directions."

"Ouch," Clive commented.

"Yeah, it was quite a ride," Donna confirmed. "Anyway, we tracked the other ship's trajectory, and realised it had made a beeline for Earth. We reckoned that meant it couldn't find us again, so it changed its tack. And, if you're looking for the Doctor, Earth isn't a bad place to begin. So, of course, the Doctor couldn't have it just knocking about on Earth, so we tracked it further, and realised it had come here, to Mallorca, specifically to this resort."

"What?" Francine asked, eyes narrowed, in disbelief.

"We didn't realise why, until the Doctor spotted a woman who seemed familiar to him. So we followed her, wondering if she could be the key to it all… she led us back to you lot. As it turned out, it was Nadine."

"Oh!" Leo said, surprised.

"Once we realised that the whole family was here, the Doctor was convinced for a while that it was targeting Martha," Donna continued. "That it went after the Doctor's most recently-known association on Earth, thinking it could get the Doctor to respond. Again, not a bad way of operating, as we have seen… but that's not what it was doing. After it infiltrated Clive, and Martha told us about a time when it seemed to have infiltrated you, Francine, the Doctor realised who the alien was."

"Who? He knows who this thing is?" Francine asked.

"Yes, it's called an Epidromeas. It's a species or society that can… well, infiltrate. Bodies, minds, souls, maybe… and it can hop body to body. You lot know that first-hand. And the Doctor told me that the Epidromeas had invaded Gallifrey – that's his home planet – ages back. They'd stolen some technology that let them track time-travel stamp codes or some such… I can't remember what he called it exactly. But it means that they can recognise energy left behind by time travel. Their instruments can track it, and the being itself seems to have some sort of low-level version of it, as well. You lot all have the residue on you – except Leo – because you were there, apparently, when the Doctor turned back time. Martha has it all over her because she travelled with him, I have it, and certainly, the Doctor does."

"Jesus," Francine groaned, putting a hand to her forehead and making her way to the lone seat in the room.

"The fact that the Epidromeas seemed to be making its way through your family led the Doctor to realise that it had scanned the Earth for the residue, and found a high concentration of it here, in Mallorca, because you are all here together. So, it started jumping from one of you to the next, trying to work out which one is the Doctor. Eventually, it found him this morning."

"Mum, it makes sense," Tish said, moving round the console to stand with her mother.

Donna made her way round, as well. "So, you see, it was a puzzle that the Doctor put together. He's a Time Lord, so he knows that time travel leaves a residue on people in the first place. And if you work backwards from there… they invaded Gallifrey, they can jump bodies, looking for the Doctor…"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it now," said Francine, who now seemed to have a headache.

"Mum, you're standing in a spaceship that is bigger on the inside than it is on the outside," Tish pointed out. "And you're really going to question whether time energy exists on our bodies? Hasn't the time for holding onto disbelief sort of passed?"

"I suppose," her mum grumbled.

"And now you see how the Doctor did not push Martha into harm's way," Donna said. "She was already in harm's way – as were all of you. He's just trying to pull you out."

"And we appreciate it," Clive said, with a placating tone.

"I know, I know, you could argue that by getting involved with Martha in the first place, he put you all in this situation, over the course of time," Donna added. "But what good would that do? Besides, it was as much Martha's choice as it was his."

Clive laughed. "That has always been abundantly clear. Hasn't it dear?"

"Yes," Francine admitted, grudgingly.

"Great, glad you feel that way," said Donna. "'Cause we don't have any more time to stand here and snipe at each other. Now… here goes nothing."

With that, she checked to make sure the sonic screwdriver was on the setting the Doctor had instructed. She then instructed them all to cluster in as close as possible near the console, all except Leo, who was to stand at least ten feet clear of the action.

Donna held the screwdriver aloft, and pressed the button. Within twenty seconds, the four of them were surrounded in a deep, blue light. The size of the corona, and the brightness, only intensified, the longer she held the button.

Clive had his arms around his wife and daughter; all three looked worried in the extreme.

"Does it hurt?" Leo asked them.

"It's a bit hot," Donna answered. "But we're not letting go!"

"God, Donna, I feel like it's in my pores! Are you sure this is going to work?" Tish cried out, uncomfortably.

"No," Donna said. "But do we have to go through this again? Have a little trust!"

"I do! It's just…" Tish exclaimed before closing her eyes, and biting down on her lower lip.

Donna was in agreeance – this experience wasn't pleasant, but it made a kind of sense. And it's what the Doctor had instructed, and obviously, it was better than any plan she could come up with…

After a minute and a half or so, the blue glow became so bright that everyone involved had to close their eyes, and a column of the light escaped above them, and seemed to penetrate the roof of the TARDIS. The light was accompanied by a ragged "whoosh" that seemed to penetrate their minds - the Doctor had warned them of this.

And when that happened, as instructed, Donna leaned across the console and pressed the blue button.

And ten seconds after that, all in the TARDIS winced, as they heard a giant, sickening thud.

"Señora?" a man near her said. "Hello?"

"Hello…" Martha Jones whispered back, completely lost in thought and wonder, still staring at the sky.

"I'm going to need to see your ID, if you want a boat."

She registered his presence on a two-or-three-second delay, and saw him standing there behind the counter of the boat-rental kiosk, where she had rented a small vessel for herself and the Doctor the day before. The man looked almost as confused as she felt.

"Erm, thanks, but, I don't think I'll need a boat," she said to him. Then she smiled. "Excuse me, can you tell me…"

"Yes?" the man said, after she didn't say anything for several moments. He now looked absolutely bored with her.

"Did I give you any information about myself?"

"Eh?"

"In the process of renting a boat, well… what did I say?"

"Señora…"

When the man looked at her with quizzical fascination, and, if she was not mistaken, a slight hint of fear, she covered her tracks. "Sorry… I've had some short-term memory loss." It wasn't a lie, she realised.

The man frowned, and said, "All right. Erm, you gave me no information – we had not got to that stage yet. You said you wanted a boat, and that you didn't have time for paperwork. I told you it was part of my job to see to it, and you said it was a stupid rule."

"Did I say what type of boat I wanted? Or where I was going with it?"

"No," he said, chuckling just slightly. "You just said you wanted one that went on the ocean, and that you were travelling alone."

"I was urgent about it?"

"Yes."

"Okay, thank you," she said, beginning to walk away. Then she turned back. "If I was rude, I'm sorry."

He looked mightily surprised. "That's all right, querida. Now that I know you have… how did you call it? Short-term memory loss?"

"Yes, well…"

"I understand that it wasn't rude. Just… well, bizarre!"

She turned fully around, once again to face him. "What did I say that seemed bizarre?"

"You said, the doctor is in the hotel. Or something like that. The wily doctor…"

Martha's heart rate began to increase drastically. "The Doctor is in the hotel?"

"Something about how he must've double-backed, and people in the basement…"

"Whoa. Okay, thanks."

"What does it mean?"

"It means…" she said, her eyes darting about, all over the beach and the hill. She gazed at the hotel. "I'm not sure. But thank you, you've been most helpful. Sorry to take up your time."

With that, she turned and walked away from the kiosk, pulled her mobile phone from her back pocket, and texted Donna. "I'm back. Remember sex trauma. WTH is happening?"

WTH, indeed? :-D

Let me know what you think, my friends! Make my week!