ABOMINATION
TWENTYEIGHT
Jack looked a little thinner than The Doctor remembered, but still fundamentally the same. He was dressed entirely in tight black clothes that served only to emphasize his well-tuned muscles. In fact, no doubt about it, The Doctor had to admit Jack looked… well, hot.
For a moment the Time Lord was somewhere else, wandering through a landscape of mental reflection. He closed his eyes, remained that way for a few seconds and then opened them again. They were now gleaming with bright alertness, no trace of fear or even concern visible.
The Doctor waved back and beamed his most charming smile, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Hello!" he chimed. "Are you the person with whom I'm speaking?"
Jack laughed at the joke, as he should have. But it was most certainly not his voice. It was more of a hiss, a modulation of the waterfall's sibilance. That was the first clue that something wasn't quite right.
The second was the color of Jack's eyes. The Doctor had been blessed with a visual variation of perfect pitch – which he also possessed – when he looked at something he often simply knew without thinking if it was correct. Jack did have beautiful blue eyes, as did the being standing before him, but its eyes matched perfectly the deep, rich color of the sky above. And the Time Lord knew instinctively that color was not the same color as the Captain's eyes.
The Doctor moved a few steps forward, the seemingly catatonic Donna still glommed onto his back like a tumor. No sense in beating around the bush, he thought. Might as well get straight to it.
"Jack?" he asked.
The being looked down with keen interest at its own body and after a few moments looked back up and smiled. "Kind of," it said.
The Doctor shrugged nonchalantly, "Where's Jack?" he asked, his voice sounding almost cheerful.
"I took him."
"Why?"
"I needed him."
"Why?"
The being looked at him coolly for several seconds apparently considering its next statement carefully; it was a look The Doctor had seen on Jack's face many times.
"To build myself."
"Ah! And what about the one behind me?"
"I took her as well, but she wasn't as useful as I'd hoped."
"Sorry about that." The quality of The Doctor's voice suddenly shifted to a more ominous part of the tonal spectrum as his eyes narrowed. "Let her go."
"No, not until I have you. Even then, she may still be helpful." Again the being smiled, it was Jack's smile.
"Then we are stalemated."
"I think not. I can wait forever, can you?"
The Doctor noticed the breeze had picked up. Actually it was more of a sustained wind now than the previous gentle wafting.
"Release her and I am yours."
"My answer will not change. No…"
A different approach was perhaps warranted. "But… but… this makes no sense," The Doctor grimaced exaggeratedly. "Without the Eye of Harmony you can never hope to be complete. Even if you take me, absorb me, consume me, or whatever it is you plan to do, in the end without the Eye of Harmony…"
"I will take your ship as well."
"Ah," The Doctor said, trying to hide his dismay. Now that was something he hadn't anticipated.
"Well…" he drew out the word, buying time, creating a distraction, whatever. "That won't work either. Like I said, this makes no sense!"
"Why do you think that sense and nonsense are such static and rigid concepts?"
The Doctor had no immediate response to that. He had run out of clever repartees and, finally, he feared, time.
