A/N: University application completed. Two times a week I'll try to update with revision. I can't revise much anyway because I get distracted, and I think even if I wanted to, I couldn't leave this story without updates. I get the annoying idea-overload thing where I feel the need to write. Thank you so much for reviews and reading! They make me smile.
Chapter Thirty-Five: Social Science
The small television centre inside Westminster had a strong smell of mouldy paper and popcorn despite the air conditioning also adding a steely scent to the room. The main booth owned a desk and blue leather chair with idealistic scenery of a proper office. The larger extent of the room had twelve small screens showing different angles inside the recording booth, along with a panel of switches and earphones. A few cupboards holding equipment were across the left side whilst on the right were more controls and technological gadgets to assist with the filming.
Paul Gurney wasn't set to arrive until noon and it was only three minutes past eleven by the Doctor's incredible Time Lord abilities. This time he had sneaked in through the back, bringing Cara and Flynn with him, and had met no hostility as of yet. The Doctor had a plan, of sorts, and fair idea of what Paul Gurney was planning for this broadcast. He had explained – to Cara's utter dismay but Flynn's enthusiasm – of how the Slitheen in disguise was probably strengthening the perception filter on the general public, so as anyone who watched would vote for him without question. Of course, the Doctor added in unnecessary scientific analogies and explanations. Flynn liked science, apparently.
To shield Cara and Flynn from the perception filter, the Doctor quietly and without them actually knowing, reinforced a telepathic reassurance to heighten their sensitivity to the truth, and hence, see Paul Gurney's words for what they actually were; a brainwash. He thought it best not to mention he had slightly meddled with their minds.
"This place could do with some air freshener," said Cara critically while she wrinkled her nose in disgust.
"Makes me hungry," moaned Flynn. "Reminds me of popcorn."
"Everything makes you hungry," Cara muttered under her breath.
Mary had not been happy the Doctor was bringing Cara and Flynn to the broadcast centre. She clearly disapproved but didn't want to stop them, because she too feared for what Paul Gurney was going to do. Through the night the Doctor had used his sonic screwdriver just to give the windows and doors more resistance in Cara's home. Mary was going out today anyway, but no one could tell when trouble would turn up. For that, Cara was grateful.
"What's the plan, Doc?" asked Flynn. He had sat down on the green spinning chair in front of the booth controls and begun to spin around.
The Doctor frowned at him, hands in his pockets. "No, don't do that. Really don't do that." He slipped on his brown-rimmed spectacles as he inspected the controls beside Flynn. "I could rewire the framework so the connection to the cameras cuts off if everything else fails. That means if I can't stop him at least I can stop his broadcast from doing any further damage," he mused.
"Why don't you just do that to begin with?" Cara asked, crossing her arms as she stared at him, slightly puzzled.
He stared at her as if she had just asked why the sky was blue. But to everyone's surprise, it was Flynn who answered, "Cutting off the cameras means all he has to do is simply turn them on again. It's a rewire not a framework manipulation. It would only delay him for, at the most, five minutes."
There was a moment of silence in which the Doctor was looking at Flynn as if he had never seen him before and Cara was appearing to be a little hurt.
"Cara never said you were smart as well," criticised the Doctor.
Flynn grinned, a glint of pride in his eye. "Well, I do study a science."
"A social science," corrected the Doctor. "Comparing a social science to a natural science is like comparing a uni-engine spaceship to a multi-starway platform. Like a normal screwdriver to a sonic screwdriver. Like a pear to a pineapple."
"And as an observer of your social attitudes and socialisation skills, I knew you would say that," retorted Flynn, still grinning. He looked serious when he said, "Also, I'm trying not to be offended."
The Doctor snorted. "You were meant to be offended."
"Do you want me to help you rewire the framework to the cameras?"
Raising an eyebrow, the Doctor pointed his sonic screwdriver at the main box on the control panel which held a bunch of switches. It gave a spark and faint sizzle before the Doctor slipped the screwdriver back into his pocket. "Nope," he exclaimed with a pop. "But you can convert the image to widescreen to save the technicians doing it. Or, better yet, you could flip the script screen's resolution, if you know how to, that is. It would help me with what I'm about to do."
Flynn excitedly grabbed the keyboard and the Doctor helped him break into the password control. He crossed over to the right side of the room where the wires and tall glass boxes full of dangerous looking buttons stood. Cara was left in the middle of the room, slightly downtrodden if she was being honest with herself.
"What should I do? Take the coats?" she asked to make herself known.
"See if you can steal a food trolley, or something. Head down to the kitchens, I could do with a cup of tea," said the Doctor.
"What, cos I'm a girl?" Cara said sarcastically. "I'd sooner stick with you science geeks."
The Doctor appeared slightly offended. "I'm hungry."
Cara traipsed over to him with a little curious bounce in her step. The Doctor was fiddling with wires, sonic screwdriver in his mouth and glasses pushed to the bottom of his nose.
"What you doing?"
He spared her a glance and rambled, "I'm rerouting the main control panel in order to change the frequency of the res -"
"I'll be looking for that food trolley," Cara shouted as she practically ran towards the door.
Cara shut the door behind her with a casual click. She had no idea which direction she should go, but then again she didn't actually know what floor she was on. She was guessing it was one of the lower floors as political buildings usually held filming equipment on the lower levels. It was quite chilly as she was walking along as well – but anything was better than staying in that room full of science babble and technology appreciation. It was time to explore in case they needed to make a quick escape.
She checked her phone as she heard voices coming from around the sharp corner. They were low, manly voices. With a jolt Cara thought it was maybe Paul Gurney heading to the broadcasting centre slightly earlier than expected. She hid around the corner and listened to the conversation.
"He hasn't been saying to anyone. Says we'll know when the public does. Whatever that means."
"Just want to get it over with. Messes up my schedule when politicians decide to do programmes at the last minute."
"We better get the cameras rolling. He'll be setting up and practicing in around five minutes."
"A few technicians are already setting up apparently."
Cara stood back from the wall and walked around the corner to avoid any suspicion being attracted to her. Two men holding tripods rushed past without giving her a second look. Cara smiled in satisfaction. She had five minutes before Paul Gurney arrived to the filming booth, but more importantly, the Doctor and Flynn only had five more minutes to finish setting the plan into motion. She debated going back to tell them the news but decided they would know soon anyway from the arrival of the two cameramen. So, Cara continued to walk down the corridor, searching for anything – a food trolley, a kitchen or canteen, a particularly interesting conversation…
What she came across, however, made her squeak in utter shock.
Paul Gurney and a couple of his advisers were walking up the corridor in her direction. He was silent and brooding, but the advisers were muttering about the broadcasting whilst rambling about the political strategies of their opposition. In some odd coincidence, Paul Gurney looked up from the floor the exact moment Cara turned the next corridor. His eyes locked on hers and he stopped in her tracks. His advisers copied him, unknowing of his strange reaction. Cara gave a small squeak and stood perfectly still as if she hoped he would fail to recognise her.
There was no doubt a few moments passed in which the pair merely stared at one another. Then, coming slowly back into reality a little bit too quickly, without a single word she turned on her heel and walked back around the corner before breaking into a run.