This one was a bit difficult to write, so I hope it's okay.

Here's a thing: have you ever posted something and then had second thoughts about it? I'm asking because I'm in that dilemma: one of the chapters from part one of the saga keeps coming back to me with the idea of 'maybe I should have had that one scene go different instead of what I've already done?' I could go back and modify the scene, but it does get mentioned several times in the later chapters, so I'd have to modify several of them.

If I do end up changing it, I'll let you guys know so you can go back and have a look. For now, though, enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 14: Mummy on the Orient Express

Ember ended up spending a week with the Doctor, Amy and Rory. She had a couple more 'meditation sessions' in which the Doctor had shown her how to feel the elements she was currently able to control, though they found out quickly that it was difficult to do it in the Tardis since the inside was its own dimension. It was much easier to do it in a natural environment, like a planet.

She had asked about trying to trigger her powers over wind, but the Doctor had simply smiled and said "It isn't time yet. It'll come to you when you're ready."

When she jumped next and got her bearings, she found herself on what looked like a train car in the 1920s. It was only when she looked out of the window that she realised that it was a reproduction: the train was in space.

Luckily, no one seemed to have noticed her sudden entrance; not even the guard who was standing at the far end of the carriage. Ember looked around: there were comfortable chairs down the side of the carriage, a band playing a slow jazz version of a Queen song, and several guests chatting and drinking wine from delicate flutes. Waiters and maids flittered about making sure everyone was comfortable and happy.

The door opened behind her, making her jump, before she heard the familiar voice of Clara. "Of course it is."

Her and the Doctor were dressed to suit the surroundings; the Doctor wearing a black suit and a loose bow tie with long ends, reminiscent of the western style. Clara was dressed in a dark flapper dress with glittering beads on it, elbow length gloves and her hair was cut to jaw length and bobbed.

"Hi, guys!" Ember said, getting their attention.

Clara smiled. "Heya. Did you want to go change? I saw lots of outfits that'll fit the theme."

Ember shook her head. "No way. I've been in one of those flapper dresses before. Don't want to do it again." She looked at the Doctor, finding him standing to the side trying not to look nervous, but failing miserably. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," He said just a little too quickly, but he moved to hug her before she could could question him. "I'm glad you're here."

Judging from his stiff posture and Clara's suddenly sheepish look, Ember figured that something had happened. "Ok. I'd ask where you've just come from, but instead, I'll just ask where we are now."

The Doctor seemed to gladly latch on to her unspoken offer, turning to gesture to the carriage. "Completely faithful recreation of the original Orient Express. Except slightly bigger. And in space. Oh, and the rails are actually hyperspace ribbons. But in every other respect, identical. Painstaking attention to detail..." A man with a bald head, bushy red beard and a steampunk style eyepatch barged past them, pushing between the Doctor and Ember rather rudely. "Most of the time."

Ember rubbed her elbow where she'd caught it against the doorframe after the man had shoved her. "Yeah, seems manners didn't get recreated. Lovely."

The Doctor quickly scanned her arm with his Sonic, confirming that it woukd do nothing more than bruise, before he looked at Clara and frowned. "You're doing it again."

Clara blinked. "Doing what?"

"The smile."

"Yeah, I'm smiling."

"It's the sad smile." The Doctor pointed out. "It's a smile but you're sad. It's confusing. It's like two emotions at once. It's like you're malfunctioning."

"Sorry." Clara said, looking away.

The Doctor shifted again, obviously not liking the tension. "I just thought this would be a good one to-"

"To end it. Yeah. It is. It's a good choice. A good one to end on."

"Yeah?"

"Mmm hmm."

"Shall we?" The Doctor offered each of the ladies and arm, which was accepted on both sides.

"Mmm hmm."

They made their way to one of the small, tall tables that were to the side, where the Doctor and Ember stood on one side while Clara took the other. Ember felt the Doctor take her hand under the table a squeeze it, so she returned the gesture. A butler came over with flutes of champagne on a tray, which were accepted.

"Ladies and gentlemen." A computerised male voice said. It sounded like the kind of voice you'd hear from James Bond's car. "If you would be good enough to look from the windows on the right of the train, you'll be able to see the soaring majesty of the Magellan black hole."

The Doctor eagerly looked out of the window, seeing the swirls of gas and stars and colours outside. "Oh, I remember when this was all planets as far as the eye could see. All gone now. Gobbled up by that beast." He looked at Clara to see her reaction, only to frown when she didn't seem to be impressed. "And there's that smile again. I don't even know how you do that."

Clara couldn't help a small laugh before she spoke. "I really thought I hated you, you know?"

"Well, thank God you kept that to yourself." The Doctor looked out of the window again. "There was this planet, Obsidian. The planet of perpetual darkness-"

"I did." Clara said, making him pause. "I did hate you. In fact, I hated you for weeks."

"Good, fine. Well, I'm glad that we cleared that up. There was also a planet that was made completely of shrubs..."

"I went to a concert once. Can't remember who it was. But do you know what the singer said?"

The Doctor gave her a look. "Frankly, that would be an absolutely astonishing guess if I did know."

"She said, 'hatred is too strong an emotion to waste on someone that you don't like.'"

"Were people really confused? Cos I'm confused. Did everybody leave?"

"Shush. Shut up." Clara said with another laugh before turning serious again. "Look, what I'm trying to say is, I don't hate you. I could never hate you. But I can't do this any more. Not the way you do it."

There was a long pause as they both thought about it. Ember squeezed the Doctor's hand in sympathy.

"...Can I talk about the planets now?" The Doctor asked.

Clara nodded, smiling. "Yes. Go."

"Thedion Four. Constant acid rain. Had a lovely picnic there once, wearing a gas mask."

"That's a lie."

The trio turned to see a young woman with blonde curls wearing a beige flapper dress. Clara spoke first. "I'm sorry?"

"That's a lie, what you said." The woman repeated, looking at the Doctor. "Thedion Four was destroyed thousands of years ago, so you couldn't have been there."

A man in uniform appeared, going right up to the woman and gently taking her arm. The Doctor immediately saw the medals and the gun in a holster at his side, his hand tightening instinctively around Ember's.

"Miss Pitt, are you sure you wouldn't rather rest in your room?" The man in uniform asked.

The woman shook her head. "That man's a liar."

"Perhaps you'd allow Mister Carlyle here to escort you back." The man suggested as another uniformed man approached. This one didn't have medals on his coat.

The other guard nodded, gently leading the obviously shaken girl away. "It'll be all right, miss. Just come with me..."

The first man turned to the trio still seated. "Sorry about that. I suppose it's understandable in the circumstances. I don't believe we've been introduced. Captain Quell."

"I'm Clara. This is Ember, and that's the Doctor."

"Ah, another one."

"Sorry? Another what?"

"Well, we've got doctors and professors coming out of our ears on this trip." Quell explained. "So, what are you a doctor of?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Now, there's a question that's never asked often enough. Let's say intestinal parasites."

That made the man look at him oddly. "I'm beginning to think Miss Pitt was right about you."

"What's wrong with her?" Clara asked, steering the topic away from the Doctor. "Did something happen?"

"You mean you really don't know?" Quell said, surprised.

After a brief discussion about the recent happenings, the trio made their way into the corridor for a little more privacy.

"There's a body and there's a mummy." Clara said once they were alone, looking at the Doctor exasperatedly. "I mean, can you not just get on a train? Did a wizard put a curse on you about mini-breaks?"

The Doctor shrugged. "It might be nothing. Old ladies die all the time. It's practically their job description."

"And the monster?"

"Well, seen by no one except her, which suggests that it wasn't there. A dying brain, lack of oxygen, hallucinations. Anyway, people do just die sometimes. She was over a hundred years old."

Ember rolled her eyes. "You're not in a position to take."

"Says the two thousand year old man." Clara agreed.

"Clara, you actually sound as if you want this to be a thing." The Doctor challenged. "Do you?"

"No." Clara said, but then hesitated. "No, look, fine. You know, if you think that there is nothing to worry about, then that is fine by me."

"Are you sure?"

"Ah, yes, I'm sure."

"To our last hurrah."

"Our last, yeah. I mean, it's not like I'm never going to see you again."

The Doctor paused. "Isn't it?"

"Is it?"

"I thought that's what you wanted."

"No, I mean, you're going to come round for dinner or something, aren't you?" Clara asked. "Do you, do you do that? Do you come round to people's houses for dinner?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I do that?"

"I don't know. I thought you might find it boring."

"Is it boring?"

"No." Clara shook her head again, raising her flute. "To the last hurrah."

"...The last hurrah."

Ember clinked her glass with theirs, trying to hide the smirk on her face.

A short while later, the trio parted ways. Clara had gotten a sleeping compartment for herself while the Doctor and Ember shared another. The brunette had suggested finding a third one for her, but the Doctor insisted that she would be fine with him. She only accepted it because she knew they wouldn't be in there for long.

So there they were: the Doctor laying on one bunk while Ember was sat cross-legged on hers. She had her eyes closed, but she could hear the Doctor twiddling his fingers as he mumbled to himself.

"It's nothing. Nothing. Definitely. Sure. Ninety nine percent sure." He was saying, seemingly arguing with himself. "Really? Ninety nine percent? That's quite high. Is that the figure you're sticking with? Okay, okay. Seventy five. Well, that's jumped quite a bit. You've just lost twenty four percent."

Ember smirked, but didn't open her eyes.

"Because you know what this sounds like, don't you? No, do tell me. A mummy that only the victim can see. I was being rhetorical. I know exactly what this sounds like." The Doctor finally sat up and looked her way, noticing her posture. "Are you meditating?"

"Yeah. You just taught me. I was in a town called Mercy before I came here." Ember said. "I'm trying to sense the elements I can control so far, but it's hard this time."

The Doctor tilted his head, though she didn't see it. "That's because we're on a train travelling through space on hyperspace ribbons. The elements you can control so far aren't very strong here because there are other elements at work."

"Other elements? Like what?"

"Well, what elements have you awakened to so far?"

Ember finally gave up, opening her eyes and looking up at him. "I've controlled fire, water and for the first time, earth. I know wind is probably next. But you told me that those are the Primary Elements. What are the others?"

"Ah, that's spoilers. But you'll know them when you get to them." The Doctor stood and put on his jacket. "Alright, I'll bite. Let's see if there really is a mummy on board."

Ember stood as well, following him out into the corridor. The Doctor did stop at the door to Clara's, hesitated, and then carried on. The brunette smirked knowingly.

"So we're going to the engineer's carriage?" She asked.

The Doctor nodded, ignoring anyone who he walked past. "We're going to the engineer's carriage."

They ended up getting to the engineer's carriage, though it looked slightly more modern. There were screens above a workbench, blue prints on a draughtiness table, and racks of tools lining the walls. The Doctor was quick to see a piece of equipment bubbling away, the display indicating that it was powering up. It was wrapped in plastic, though the Doctor pulled that off without a thought so he could scan the device with his Sonic.

"Beautiful bit of kit, isn't it, sir?" A male voice made them jump, turning to find the engineer standing to the side. He wore overalls and a cap, and he was holding a heavy-looking piece of metal, like he was ready to defend himself. "The Excelsior Life Extender. It's like driving around in a portable hospital."

"Yes, well, it didn't do Mrs Pitt much good, did it?" The Doctor replied, putting himself between the engineer and Ember. The brunette found it a mut point, seeing as she could probably set the man on fire, even if she didn't know that he was safe.

"Got me there, sir. Certainly got me there." The engineer shrugged. "Maybe it malfunctioned?"

"Oh, I don't think so." The Doctor said. "The records show that the machine did everything it could to keep her alive."

"Yeah. And almost drained the battery doing it."

"What do you know?"

"Well, I know that when I find a man fiddling with a chair that someone died in, it's best to play my cards close to my chest."

The Doctor raised a brow. "Really? Well, I know that when I find a man loitering near a chair that someone died in, I do just the same."

The engineer smiled. "Perkins. Chief Engineer."

"The Doctor. Nosey Parker. And this is Ember. Special woman."

"Pleased to meet you, Doctor, Ember." Perkins chuckled as he shook hands with the Doctor and tipped his hat to the brunette. "Course, there's a rumour that someone or something else might be responsible."

That made the Doctor glance at Ember, who nodded. "Here's a hint. Every living person is on this train for a reason. None of it was a coincidence."

The Doctor and Ember made their way to one of the carriages that was set up as a lounge, where they immediately approached a man with a thin moustache who was reading a book.

"What's the most interesting thing about the Foretold?" The Doctor asked, pointing at the man.

The man blinked, thrown off by the interruption. "I'm terribly sorry, I don't believe we've met."

"You know. The Foretold." The Doctor urged. "Mythical mummy. Legend has it that if you see it, you're a dead man."

"Yes, I know what it is. You see, I happen to be-"

"Emil Moorhouse, professor of alien mythology. I'm the Doctor. This is Ember. Pleased to meet you." The Doctor pulled Ember with him as he sat on the chair opposite the confused man, ignoring the squeak that came out of the brunette when she ended up on his lap. "So, the most interesting thing about the Foretold. Go."

"Ah, well, it would have to be the time limit given before it kills you." Moorhouse said after a moment of staring at them. "I can't think of another myth where it's so specific. How does it go? Um... 'The number of evil twice over. They that bear the Foretold's stare have sixty six seconds to live.'"

The Doctor shook his head. "No, no, no. Nice try. Very atmospheric. But that's not it. Try again."

That made the man look at him. "A cynical man might say that you were trying to pump me for information."

"The myth of the Foretold first appeared over five thousand years ago. In some stories, there is a riddle or secret word that is supposed to make it stop. Some characters try to bargain with it, offer riches, confess sins. All to no avail." The Doctor pulled out what looked like a cigarette case, but it was revealed to be holding nothing more than jelly babies. He offered one to the professor.

"Well, you certainly know a little mythology."

"I know a lot. Because, from time to time, it turns out to be true."

The lights flickered for a brief second. Ember glanced up at them, taking the Doctor's hand and squeezing it twice to make him aware. At the same time, she felt a wave of nausea go over her, as though she was suddenly having reflux.

Though the Doctor showed no outward sign that he noticed, he did return the squeeze to silently tell her that he did.

"But that's the great appeal, isn't it?" Moorhouse said, oblivious to the exchange. "Earth legends are such dry, dusty affairs, and always fiction. But up here, in the stars, anything's possible. That's why I chose this field, to be honest. Hoping one day I might meet a real monster."

The Doctor nodded as the professor ate the jelly baby. He offered one to Ember, but she shook her head. "Isn't that everyone's dream? But you still haven't answered my riddle. What's the most interesting thing about the Foretold?"

"Well, you can't run from it, that's for sure. There are accounts of people trying, but it never works. No matter how far you run, it's always right there behind you."

"Nope. Even colder."

Ember blinked, as the feeling of nausea was gone as suddenly as it had appeared.

"All right, I give up." Moorhouse said. "You tell me."

"Mrs Pitt, the old woman who died."

Moorhouse blinked, puzzled. "She died of old age. Nothing supernatural."

"No. That's my answer."

"Her death?"

"No. The fact that you were here to witness it." The Doctor noticed a commotion was building up at the end of the carriage. He let Ember stand before raising as well. "Excuse us, Professor."

The duo made their way out of the carriage, searching for Quell. It wasn't long before they found him, though it was not before they'd heard of a second person dying.

"I think we need to talk." The Doctor said.

"This matter does not concern the passengers..." Quell began.

"We're not passengers. We're your worst nightmare." The Doctor flashed him the psychic paper.

Quell frowned. "Mystery shoppers. Oh, great."

"Really? That's your worst...?" The Doctor said. "Okay, I'm a mystery shopper. I could do with an extra pillow and I'm very disappointed with your breakfast bar and... all of the dying."

"Maybe we should talk about this in private." Ember suggested.

Quell nodded, leading them through another carriage and into an office. Ember was quick to notice the certificate with Quell's name on it in a frame on the wall.

"This is not exactly within your job description." Quell said as he grabbed three glasses and a bottle of brandy.

"Come on, Captain." The Doctor shook his head. "Where would we all be if we all followed our job descriptions, hmm? Good question. Glad you asked. In your case, you'd be doing something instead of climbing inside a bottle."

"I have followed the procedure for accidental death to the letter."

"Yes, I'm sure you have. And I'm sure you do just enough of your job to avoid complaints."

Quell frowned. "You don't know anything about me."

"Wounded in battle, honourable discharge. And this is just a guess, but I think you've had the fight knocked out of you. You expected this to be a cushy desk job where you could put your head down until retirement. Well, I'm sorry. As of today, that dream is over."

"There is no evidence of any attack or other parties-"

"Yes, let's just sit around and wait for the evidence while the bodies pile up." The Doctor let Ember finish her drink before he took the glass from her. "Or here's a crazy thought. We could do something to stop it. Why am I even talking to you?"

He took Ember's hand, pulling her with him as he left the office. And almost bumped right into Perkins, who had several rolls of paper.

"Uh, passenger manifest, plan of the train and a list of stops for the past six months." He said.

The Doctor raised a brow. "Quick work, Perkins. Maybe too quick."

Perkins gave him a flat look. "Yes, sir. I'm obviously the mummy. Or perhaps I was already looking into this."

Back in the engineer's room, the Doctor, Ember, Perkins and Professor Moorhouse were watching a CCTV feed of what had happened to Mrs Pitt. To them, it looked like she was simply have a delusion, seeing something no one else could. At the end of it, she simply dropped into her seat in heap.

"Sixty six seconds." The Doctor said, having timed it with a stop watch. "It fits the myth. Did you see the lights flicker?"

Moorhouse nodded as Perkins spoke. "Yeah, the lights went in the kitchen as well just before the chef saw it."

"In all of the accounts, conventional weapons have no effect on the Foretold." Moorhouse added. "It's immortal, unstoppable, unkillable."

"...Can we get a new expert?"

Ember smirked.

A little while later, Moorhouse was asleep in a chair while Perkins was slumped at his desk. The Doctor was looking through papers, trying to find a pattern or some clue they'd missed, while Ember was sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed as she meditated again.

For her, trying to find strong connections with the elements of water and earth were difficult not only because they were on a train moving through space, but also because she'd not long awakened to them. Like the Doctor had explained before; it was like moving a muscle she never knew she had.

Fire, on the other hand, seemed much easier to sense. Maybe it was because of her ability to make fire appear out of nowhere. It made her wonder if she could make water appear from nowhere, or even the earth. And would it work when she could finally control the wind element?

Ember was so deep in her concentration that she didn't notice it, but the Doctor did: he paused in his search when what felt like a light brush of air went past, rustling some of the papers. It was minuscule, easy to miss, but it was there.

The Doctor looked over at Ember, debating wether to mention it or not. She'd said she'd only just awakened to the earth element in her last trip, so it was too soon for her to get to the next one. It had to be a fluke, right?

Unless...

The choice was taken out of his hands when there was suddenly a loud beeping sound and the blinds covering the windows rose up. The unexpected sound and movement made Ember jump, breaking her concentration.

"Lovely wake up call," Ember muttered, pushing herself to her feet. She moved to the Doctor's side. "Speaking of, Maybe you should check on Clara."

The Doctor nodded, moving to the internal phone that was hanging on the wall. With a flick of the Sonic, he removed it from the wall so he could move while talking. He put it to his ear and waited until there was an answer before he spoke. "Wake up, Sleepy-head. Time for breakfast. Knowing this train, it'll taste amazing."

"Doctor, please," Clara said, heard by Ember as she got close enough to listen. "I'm in trouble..."

"Can't even get that right, huh?" The Doctor asked.

"Doctor-"

"Bad food on trains is traditional."

"Doctor, please, just li-"

"Listen, there's been another mummy murder. So our last hurrah just became a bit more interesting." The Doctor rambled, though he winced as Ember slapped his arm. "What?"

"Listen to her," the brunette said just before Clara then spoke.

"I'm trapped!"

That made the Doctor pause. "What? Where are you?"

As Clara gave him directions, Ember moved to where Perkins and Moorhouse were asleep, shaking them awake. "Sorry, boys, but we gotta go now."

The two bewildered humans got up as the Doctor left the room, and they followed him through the train until they got to the baggage car, where the Doctor was quick to thump his fist on the door.

"Clara!" He called. "Is that you?"

"Yes. Yes! Hello! Can you hear us?" Clara's voice came faintly through from the other side of the door, but they could still hear her through the phone.

The Doctor noticed that there was a high heeled shoe jammed into the keypad and pulled it out, flinching back at the sparks that followed. "Ow! Computer, can you open the door, please?"

"Call me Gus." The computerised male voice replied. "I'm afraid this door can only be opened by executive order."

"Maisie used that," Ember said, pointing to the shoe.

"Oh. Forget it." The Doctor tried to scan the door with his Sonic, but then it seemed to stutter before stopping altogether. "Oh. Now the stupid sonic..."

"What?" Clara called.

"Screwdriver's not working."

"What? What do you mean, it's not working? Why?"

"I don't know. Some sort of a suppression field, I would guess. And it has to be a guess because, as I say, the stupid sonic screwdriver's not working. What are you even doing in there?"

"Well, I was looking for you, Mister Nothing To Worry About."

"What, was I supposed to waken you up? Drag you out of bed because I had a hunch? I thought you didn't want to do this any more."

"Look, look, please, can we just not do this now?" Clara said at last. "I think we might not be alone in here. There's a sarcophagus."

"Is it in there?" The Doctor asked.

"I think we might just be about to find out. Turns out the sonic is working. Just not on the door we need."

The lights flickered. The Doctor tried to get the door to open. "Clara, it's coming!"

"Doctor? Doctor, it's okay. It's uh... it's full of bubble wrap."

"But the lights...?"

Ember shook her head, trying to ignore the nauseous feeling that had come back. "It's not in there. Clara is fine."

"Doctor, move away from the door."

The two of them turned, to find Quell stood with two other guards. One of them was pointing a gun at them.

"Our friend's inside." The Doctor said.

"Then they're in trouble, too." Quell replied. "I spoke to Head Office. There is no mystery shopper. You're not even on the passenger list."

The Doctor sighed. "Clara, I'm going to have to call you back."

Quell let his colleagues take them, one holding the Doctor while the other had Ember, and handcuff them. "Come on."

"You know, I'm going to have to mark you down for this." The Doctor said as they were led out of the baggage car.

"You are not mystery shoppers. For all I know, you're the one behind the killings."

"Oh, come on, Captain! How many people have to die before you stop looking the other way?"

They had just made it into the lounge carriage when they noticed the commotion going on inside. The guard that was in charge of the carriage had his gun out and was shooting at something.

"Get back! Stay back!" He was yelling as his shots broke glasses that were on tables. The guests and staff ducked for cover.

"What do you think you're doing, man?" Quell demanded.

The guard fell into a chair in a panicked heap, dropping the gun. "Please, please! Stop! No!"

"Get up, man. That's an order!"

The man's screaming stopped abruptly, and he fell back. A nearby man in a white coat and sporting a beard moved to him to check his pulse, only to shake his head.

Ember frowned. It had happened again: one minute she was fine, then she was feeling like she was going to throw up, and then suddenly she was fine again. It had happened twice now; it couldn't be coincidence.

Quell took the fallen man's gun from Moorhouse and handed it to one of the other guards before he turned to look at the Doctor. "It turns out it's three. The amount of people that had to die before I stopped looking the other way."

The Doctor nodded as he and Ember were released. "Thank you."

"Same as the others?" Perkins asked, having appeared from seemingly nowhere at the Doctor's elbow.

The two guards moved to pick up the body and carry it away. "Excuse me please. Take his feet. Excuse me please."

"Ladies and gentlemen, could I have a moment of your time, please?" The Doctor raised his voice so that everyone in the carriage could hear him. "There's a monster on this train that can only be seen by those about to die. If you do see it, you will have exactly sixty six seconds left in which to live. But that isn't even the strangest thing. Do you know what is? You. The passengers. Experts in alien biology, mythology, physics. If I was putting together a team to analyse this thing, I'd pick you. And I think somebody has. Someone of immense power and influence has orchestrated this whole trip. Someone who I have no doubt is listening to us right now. So, are you going to step out from behind the curtain and give us our orders?"

There was a low hum that only lasted a few seconds. Perkins recognised the sound. "The engines. They've stopped."

The doors closed and locked on both ends of the carriage. With a fizzling sound, the interior decor of the carriage changed from a 1920's classic train to a high-tech laboratory, complete with computer screens, test tubes and various other equipment.

"And the facade drops away," The Doctor added, "because what use are a bunch of scientists without a lab?"

"That's not the only illusion," Ember said, moving to the nearest person and patting his shoulder. "That guard was shooting wildly in a small space with lots of people, yet not one person was injured. Why?"

Another fizzle, and a large number of the people disappeared, including the man she'd touched. There was only a handful of people left behind, one of which reminded Ember of Albert Einstein.

"Teleporter?" Perkins asked, looking around.

"No. Hard light holograms." The Doctor corrected. "They were never really here. Fake passengers to make up the numbers."

"That was my best guard." Quell said, having noticed that one of his guards was now missing.

There was a bing sound, and a thumbs up icon appeared on the nearest screen before it change to an image of a monocle. Then Gus spoke. "Good morning, everyone! Around the room you will find a variety of scientific equipment. Your goal is to ascertain the Foretold's true nature, probe for weaknesses with a view to capture, after which we will reverse engineer its abilities. Isn't this exciting?"

"You said capture, implying that you can't control this thing." The Doctor pointed out. "And yet somehow you got it on board. How?"

"There is an artefact, an ancient scroll. I have highlighted it for your convenience." A small spotlight turned to show exactly that on the door at the far end of the carriage. "For reasons currently unknown, the Foretold appears in the vicinity of this artefact."

"And kills at regular intervals."

"Then maybe we should just throw this thing out in the airlock." Quell said, moving to do just that.

"No! No! No!"

The moment the man touched the scroll, he received a nasty electric shock. He fell back with a thud.

Perkins sighed. "Looks like they've thought of that."

"What if we say no?" Moorhouse asked the computer. "Down tools. Refuse to work."

"That is your choice, of course. But it would be very upsetting were you all to die at the hands of the Foretold."

"So hurry up, before it kills you." Perkins summarised.

The Doctor frowned. "But even if they agree to this, how are they supposed to study a creature that they can't even see? We don't even know what the species is."

The lights flickered, and the nausea came back to Ember, making her swallow hard and lean against the wall.

"Perkins, start the clock." The Doctor called. "Now, who can see it?"

"Approximately one point eight metres tall." Moorhouse suddenly said, looking at something at the far end of the carriage. "Actually, seeing it in the flesh isn't nearly as rewarding as I thought it might be."

"Oh, dear. Hard cheese. What can you see? Details."

Moorhouse blinked. "Yes. Yes, of course, of course. Uh Well, it just looks like uh... a man in bandages. I-"

"What kind of bandages? Old? New?"

"Old."

"Whole? Ragged?"

"Ragged. Falling off in places. I don't know what you want me to tell you!"

"Listen to me!" The Doctor said. "You can see this thing. We can't. Tell us what you can see. Even the smallest detail might help save the next one."

"The next one?" Moorhouse breathed. "You mean you can't save me?"

"Well, that is implied, isn't it? Yes, this is probably the end for you. But make it count. Details, please."

"Um, flesh. Some of it is visible-"

"Thirty seconds." Perkins called

"Uh, leathery. Ancient looking. Peat bog preserved..."

"Keep talking. Don't waste this chance!"

That appeared to have an unwanted affect on the professor. "I want to bargain for my life!"

"W-w-w-what?"

"Well, it says, some of the myths say if you, if you find the right word, if you make the right offer, then it lets you go."

The Doctor shook his head. "This is not a myth. This is real. Forget your superstitions. Tell us what you can see!"

"This is my life, my death. I'm going to fight for it how I want!" Moorhouse snapped at him before facing the mummy again. "Ah, I give you-"

"Ten seconds!" Perkins called again.

"-My soul! I confess all sins. I give you all my worldly goods. Oh, please, please, please. No!" Then he suddenly dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.

"...Zero."

There was a ding sound before Gus spoke. "We apologise for any distress you may have just experienced. Grief counselling is available on request. On the bright side, I'm sure you've all collected a lot of data. Well done, everyone!"

Perkins looked at the screen he'd had the timer on. "It's recording every death."

"Of course it is." The Doctor replied after checking on Ember, who was suddenly feeling better again. He then moved to a coat rack that had several white lab coats hanging from it, passing them out. "That's why we're here. To study our own demise. So let's get to work. Come on. Chop, chop."

Ember waited for a few minutes until everyone was set to work, and then she pulled the Doctor to the side. "Doctor, something's happening to me. Every time the mummy appears, I feel sick, but then it goes away when the mummy does."

"Hmm..." The Doctor furrowed his brow in thought. "And it's happened every time?"

"Yes. First when we were talking to the professor, then when Quell cuffed us, and just now."

"Something about the mummy is having a reaction on you. However it's making itself invisible and killing its victims, you're somehow feeling it. You'll probably feel sick the next time too."

"What if there is no next time?" Ember asked, an idea coming to mind. "What if I tell you everything about it right now?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Gus suddenly spoke, making everyone look up. "But I am under strict instructions to not allow Miss Ember to divulge what is classed as a 'spoiler'. There is only one acceptable circumstance that will counter this order."

"What does that mean?" Perkins asked, turning to the Time Lords. "What does he mean by a spoiler?"

Ember frowned at the ceiling. "He doesn't want me to tell you what the Foretold really is."

"You know?" Quell said. "Then tell us!"

"I apologise for interrupting again, but if Miss Ember does reveal all the details of the Foretold while not under the acceptable circumstance, it would render this experiment pointless. Therefore, I would then have no choice but to decompress every area on the entire train."

Ember groaned. "In other words, you'll kill everyone if I spoil it for them. So what, do I just sit here and keep my mouth shut?"

"My instructions are to allow you to provide the team with what is categorised as 'hints'."

"Okay, well, here's one," Ember said, turning to the group. "It's not a natural force that's doing this."

"That would be catergorised as a 'hint'. Good work!"

That made Ember roll her eyes. "You know, I bet there's a switch somewhere that makes you shut up, and every time you talk, it makes me want to find it all the more." She then turned to the humans. "I don't know how much I can tell you before it's classed as a spoiler, so you guys better get to work."

"I have a question," Quell said. "If you knew what this thing is, why didn't you tell me at the start?"

"Would it have mattered?" The Doctor retaliated. "If she went up to you and said 'hey, there's a killer mummy on board this train, and I can tell you why', would you have believed her?"

That made Quell purse his lip. He couldn't deny it.

The Doctor nodded. "Right, now lets get to work."

Suddenly, there was a ringing sound. The Doctor picked up the one he'd taken earlier and moved to Ember's side so she could hear the whole conversation. "Clara Oswald."

"Okay. So, first things first." Clara said. "The sarcophagus is actually a secure stasis unit."

"Yes. It's where they want us to put the Foretold if we capture it."

"Well, that would have been good to know."

"Sorry. Teeny bit busy round here. What else?"

"Please terminate your call and return to work." Gus said politely after another ding sound.

"We have some paperwork." Clara said, ignoring the request. "Passenger manifests from other ships. Maisie recognised a couple of the names. These are missing ships."

"So, we're not the first." The Doctor mused.

"No."

"Please terminate your call and return to work." Gus said again.

Clara again ignored it. "I've got some progress reports. The Gloriana spent three days getting picked off by the Foretold. All died. Performance marked as poor. And here's a detail I think you'll want to hear: 'Great Fire not present.'"

The Doctor looked at Ember, who looked just as confused as he was.

"The Valiant Heart." Clara continued. "Forty two crew, four died. Performance, promising. Great Fire not present."

"Please terminate the call and return to work." Gus said again.

Quell spotted something odd floating in space outside the window; large cooking pots and other kitchen utensils. He then paled when something else came into view. "I think you should do as it says."

The Doctor, as well as everyone else, moved to the windows, shocked to see people floating in space, their skin blue and their bodies frozen in terror. All of them were wearing catering staff uniforms.

"Clara, I have to go." The Doctor said before he hung up.

"I'm sorry. I know that must have been distressing for you." Gus said. "But if you are disobedient again, I will decompress another area containing less valuable passengers."

That made the Doctor think. "Less valuable passengers? How does it choose?"

"Well, I'm assuming qualifications..." Perkins began.

"No, no, no. Not the computer, the Foretold. How does it choose who to kill? We've assumed it's random. What if it's not? I want full histories on all the victims. Medical, social, personal."

"Well done."

The Doctor rolled his eyes at the ceiling. "Don't mention it." He then turned to Ember, who was still looking out at the dead catering staff as they drifted away from the train. "Ember, it's alright..."

"I got distracted. I should have warned you." She said before she turned to glare at the ceiling. "Hey, Gus, I have questions. Why was the Great Fire mentioned in those reports?"

"I'm sorry, but that's confidential information." Gus replied.

"Confidential, my ass! I am the Great Fire, so I have a right to know why you had to specifically point out that I wasn't there!"

There was a pause, and then Gus spoke again. "Your presence in the experiment greatly improves the chances of it being a success, regardless of the performance of everyone else in the exercise."

Ember closed her eyes and took a breath to calm herself. She couldn't afford to lose her temper here. "Do you already know what the Foretold is?"

"No. That is the purpose of this experiment: to find out."

"Okay, and I can't give it away to these people. What if I go to a private room and tell just you?"

"I'm afraid that I am included in the terms. If you were to tell even me, the protocol to terminate all remaining passengers would come into effect."

"Damn," Ember muttered. "And who gave you these instructions?"

"I'm afraid that is confidential, even to you."

The Doctor cut in, having had a thought. "You said she can't tell us with the exception of one circumstance. What is it, what's the circumstance?"

"I'm afraid I cannot divulge that information until the circumstance presents itself."

"Lovely. Fat lot of good that is."

Ember saw Perkins standing to one side with a tablet computer, looking like he wanted to speak but was unsure if he should. "There's a pattern. It's in that."

"But... Doesn't seem to be any pattern." Perkins said as the Doctor moved to his side to look at the tablet. "Their travel history, interests, health. It's all over the shop."

"Health? Are you sure?" The Doctor said. "Mrs Pitt, the first victim. She was over a hundred years old. The frailest passenger on board."

"Oh but the next to go, the chef, was young and fit. It's random."

Quell suddenly spoke up. "The chef was ill."

"What?" The Doctor asked, he and Perkins walking up to him.

"A rare blood disorder. Not contagious, but we kept it quiet."

"Because he worked with food. The next one, the guard?"

"He wasn't ill as such, but he did have synthetic lungs implanted last year."

Perkins looked at the tablet again. "Professor Moorhouse. It seems he was physically fine but suffering from, here we are. Regular panic attacks after a car crash last year."

"It's picking off the weakest first." The Doctor said, looking at Ember. She nodded. "Sensing the illness somehow. The fake organs, even psychological issues. But this is good news, because it means we can work out who is next. I want the medical records of everybody alive who is still on board. If anyone's had as much as a cold, I want to know about it."

"You really think it can sense psychological issues?" Quell asked.

"It seems so. Why?"

Quell led him to the end of the carriage, lowering his voice. "When you said I'd lost the stomach for a fight, I wasn't wounded in battle as such, but... My unit was bombed. I was the sole survivor. Not a scratch on me. But post-traumatic stress. Nightmares. Still can't sleep without pills."

"Which means that you are probably next. Which is good to know."

"Well, not for me."

"Well, of course not for you, because you're going to die. But I mean for us, from a research point of view."

"You know, for a doctor, your bedside manner leaves-" Quell began, but then the lights flickered and he froze, staring at seemingly nothing at the other end of the carriage.

Ember stumbled when the nausea hit her, making her lean on a table to steady herself.

"Well, there's goes our head start." The Doctor muttered. "Perkins, start the clock. What can you see?"

"Almost feels out of focus. Gives me a headache just looking at it." Quell said, then drew his pistol.

"Oh no, no, no, no. That didn't work before!"

"What kind of soldier would I be, dying with bullets in my gun?"

Ember flinched as a glass beaker exploded a few feet away from her. "A good one, if you don't hit me!"

"Fifty seconds!" Perkins callled.

"Someone shut that man up!" Quell snapped at the man. "For the record, it didn't even flinch."

The Doctor tried to think. "Where is it now?"

"Approximately twenty feet in front of me and closing."

"Forty seconds!"

The Doctor moved to stand in front of the mummy. "Am I close?"

"It's passing right through you, like a ghost."

Perkins by now had grabbed a scanner and the tablet, trying to get a reading. "It's not a hologram."

The Doctor took note of that. "If you move, will it follow?"

"Do you want me to move? Because I can certainly do that."

"Keep looking at it, but back off quick as you like."

"That won't work!" Ember called, gritting her teeth to fight to urge to throw up. "There's a detail! Look at it!"

Quell turned around. "She's right. It's teleported away. It's behind me. But... I can't see anything other than flesh and bandages..."

"Twenty seconds!" Perkins said.

"I think this is it. Still, suppose it's not a bad way to go. Blood pumping, enemy at the gates and all that. And thank you, Doctor, for waking me up. It's reaching for me. Hands on my head..."

He dropped to his knees, and then fell back.

"Zero." Perkins breathed.

"Damn it!" Ember snapped. The nausea was gone again, but all that did was make way for frustration. The Albert Einstein lookalike carefully approached, offering her a glass of water, which made her anger simmer away a bit. "Thanks..."

"Teleporter." The Doctor said, going over what little information they'd gained. "That means tech. Then sixty six seconds to do what? Sixty six seconds. That seems very, very specific. Too specific for organic. So, what, more tech? What? More? A countdown clock? Something charging?"

Perkins looked at him. "A man just died in front of us. Can we not just have a moment?"

"No. No, no, no. We can't do that. We can't mourn. People with guns to their heads, they cannot mourn. We do not have time to mourn. Everybody, what takes sixty six seconds to charge up or to change state? Anyone?" No one offered to speak. "Am I surrounded by idiots? If only I could see this thing..."

"Don't even joke about that."

"I'm not joking about it. One minute with me and this thing, it would be over!"

"You know, Doctor, I can't tell if you're a genius or just incredibly arrogant."

"He's both, with every right to be," Ember said. She'd just finished the water and put the glass to one side. "Think carefully. It's an old mummy. It goes after the living. What would that mean?"

The Doctor looked at her for a moment before he got it. "Ancient tech. This thing has been around for centuries. How? Tech that keeps it alive. Tech that drains energy from the living. Scanner!" He snatched the device from Perkins and used it on Quell's body, then threw it back to the engineer. "Deep tissue scan. He's been leached of almost all energy on a cellular level. The heart attack is just a, is just a side effect."

"Oh, it's not just a mummy, it's a vampire." Perkins said, then shrugged. "Metaphorically speaking."

"But why take sixty six seconds to drain us? Why not just pounce?"

Perkins blinked. "Phase. Moving energy out of phase. That takes about a minute, doesn't it?"

"That's why only the victims can see it. It takes them out of phase so it can drain their energy." The Doctor pointed at Perkins. "You, sir, are a genius! This explains everything! Apart from what it is and how it's doing it. Sorry, I jumped the gun there with the you're a genius, that explains everything remark."

Ember suddenly had a thought. "Doctor, maybe that's what's making me feel sick every time it appears. It's slightly out of phase it everything around it, so when it strikes, I can feel it."

The Doctor looked at her. "Yes, of course! You've always been more sensitive to these kinds of things, so you can feel it when it's active! And because it isn't properly in our plane of existence, it makes you sick!"

"Doctor," Perkins called, having looked at the tablet. "I think we know the next victim."

The Doctor took the tablet and looked for himself. "Ah, of course. That makes perfect sense. Maisie."

"She's traumatised and stressed because of what happened, and she feels guilty about her gran dying," Ember added. "She's the most likely to be next. Gus, if we need to study the Foretold, we need it to be here, right?"

"That would be correct." Gus replied.

"And if we need it here, it's next victim has to be here too, right?"

"That would also be correct."

Ember took a breath. "They've calculated right. The next victim is Maisie Pitt. But she's in the storage room with Clara. We need her here so we can monitor the next attack. And for that, we need to call them."

"Very well. I will permit a phone call to retrieve the next test subject."

"And do me a favour? Don't call her a test subject," Ember quipped.

The Doctor moved to the far end of the carriage, using the phone to call Clara. Perkins moved to Ember's side.

"So what's this about the Great Fire?" He asked. "Is that some kind of nickname?"

Ember gave him a long look, and then nodded. "Yeah. I've got lots of nicknames, but that seems to be the most common one."

"So why do you have it?"

"Well..." Ember quickly glanced around to make sure no one else was watching. "I can show you, but you gotta promise not to tell anyone, okay?"

Perkins nodded. "Cross my heart."

Ember took a breath, concentrating. Then she held up one finger and, to Perkins' surprise, the tip of it was engulfed in a tiny plume of fire, like her finger was actually a candle.

"Whoa..." he breathed, fascinated as he watched the flame go out as quickly as it came. The skin on her finger didn't even look singed. "That's pretty cool. I'm assuming that you can make it bigger? Cuz I don't think you got the nickname from that little trick."

"Well, I usually use it as a scare tactic. Making fire appear between me and a threat. The first time I did it, I burned an illusionary hotel away. And where I am matters too: natural environments make it much easier." Ember straightened her jacket. "See these burns? They're mostly from when I've gone a little overboard. Blow up a house that had a major gas leak once."

Perkins looked impressed. "So that explains the nickname. What about the spoilers bit?"

Ember sighed. "I have a bit of a... well, I guess it can be a gift or a curse, depending on how you look at it. I've seen... visions on how things could go, but it's not always accurate. Sometimes it changes. The problem is, these visions don't include me in them, so I don't know what impact I have on things until I get to them. And it's not at easy as it seems, when you know what's coming."

"That sounds like something that I wouldn't really want, if you ask me." Perkins said. "I mean, if you changed something that you saw in your vision, how do you know that it would end up being a good thing? What if you inadvertently make it worse?"

"Exactly. Knowing the future isn't a gift. It's a responsibility." Ember said, glad that someone outside the Doctor and his companions understood what she was going through. She looked up as the Doctor approached them. "They on their way?"

"Yes." The Doctor replied. "What's going on here?"

"Just letting Perkins here know why I'm called the Great Fire. He's pretty level-headed, Doctor, so-agh!"

A throb of pain in her head made her cringe and close her eyes. She faintly heard the Doctor and Perkins call to her, but her vision was going white...

The Doctor used the scanner to transfer Maisie's grief and trauma to himself, making him the next victim for the Foretold.

But he didn't figure it out in time, and the mummy killed him...

Ember shook out of the vision, finding herself in the Doctor's arms. He was quick to notice when she seemed to be out of the vision. "Ember, what is it? What did you see?"

"No time..." she said, looking at the door at the far end of the carriage. Sure enough, it opened and Clara came in with Maisie. The door immediately closed behind them.

The Doctor made sure that Ember was alright to stand on her own before he let her go. The brunette moved to the middle of the carriage, an idea coming to mind.

"Hello, again. I'm Maisie."

"Good for you." The Doctor said, pulling her with him as he walked back to the middle of the carriage.

"We passed the Tardis on the way here." Clara said, following them. "Thought about getting inside, hiding, pulling the levers and hoping for the best. But we couldn't even get in. There was a forcefield around it."

The Doctor barely looked at her as he used the scanner on Maisie, walking around the woman to get all angles. "It's probably Gus trying to block our escape route."

"But how does he even know what it is? Cos if he knows what it is, then he knows what you are."

"Well, he has tried to entice me here before. Free tickets, mysterious summons, he even phoned the Tardis number. Do you know how difficult a number-"

"You knew." Clara cut him off. "You knew this was no relaxing break. You knew this was dangerous."

"I didn't know. I certainly hoped."

Clara shook her head in disbelief. "Okay, this. You see, this... This is why I'm leaving you. This. Because you lied. You lied to me, again. And now you've made me lie. You've made me your accomplice."

Maisie overheard that bit. "What? Sorry? When did you lie? Clara?"

"Maisie, I am... I am so sorry."

The lights flickered, and Maisie suddenly looked scared as she alone saw the mummy. Ember bit her lip as the nausea returned.

"Do we start the clock?" Perkins asked.

"Not yet." The Doctor said as he moved to stand in front of Maisie and used the scanner on her face, making her look at him. "Focus, Focus, Focus! All of that is your grief, your trauma, your resentment. And now-"

He was about to put the scanner to his own head when someone snatched it out of his hands. He whirled around just in time to see Ember flinch as she used it on herself.

"It's mine," she grunted, closing her eyes and holding her head. "Sorry, Doctor, but it's my turn to play guinea pig. Oh, that hurt..."

Maisie looked around, suddenly unable to see the mummy. "It's gone?"

"No. No, it's not." The Doctor ran up to Ember as she dropped the scanner. "What did you do that for?"

Ember looked over his shoulder, seeing the mummy at the far end of the car, reaching out a hand as it began to shuffle forward. The nausea was worse now that she was the target, and it even made a bit of bile come up her throat, but she forced it down. "You were gonna take too long. Start the clock!"

"Doctor, what just happened?" Clara asked, now worried for the brunette, as Perkins started the timer.

"I took a scan of her brain and was about to put it in mine so that the Foretold would think I'm her," The Doctor said quickly as he turned to look for the scanner that Ember had dropped. When he spotted it, he was about to grab it when it was engulfed in in a small plume of fire, and he turned to see Ember holding her hand out. "What are you doing?!"

Ember shook her head. "If you'd done it, you'd have ran out of time. Now shut up, I'm trying to sort this out in my head!" She winced as memories that weren't hers came unbidden through her mind. "Oh, not fun. She didn't like her grandmother..."

"Ember, Focus," The Doctor urged, forced to abandon the scanner and move to her side. "You need to focus and tell me what you see!"

"She thought her gran killed her pony... I think she did..."

"Not on the memories, on the mummy! You need to tell me what you can see so I can help you!"

Clara moved closer. "What's happening?"

The Doctor shook his head. "She's got someone else's grief in her head, it's taking time for her to filter it out. Ember, come on, you need to focus!"

Ember backed away as the mummy came closer, tears falling from her eyes not only from the trauma Maisie had been hiding but the clear pain on the mummy's face. "Oh, you didn't think it would hurt, did you? You didn't think it would go wrong..." she flinched at a spike of pain followed by another memory. "Oh, her father... I'm so sorry..."

Maisie flinched as well. "Oh!"

"Ember, come on, Focus!" The Doctor said. "You need to talk to me now!"

"Gus!" Ember shouted to the ceiling, ignoring the Doctor for now. "That circumstance, is this it?"

"It is. You may now divulge what is classed as 'spoilers'."

"Glad to hear that," Ember muttered, trying to fight the nausea. "Okay. The scroll... it's not a scroll..."

"Thirty seconds!" Perkins called.

Ember pushed the Doctor away from her, trying to see past the nausea and the pain from Maisie's trauma, trying to focus on the mummy that was still coming. "It's a flag! You're following that flag because it's yours, what you swore to fight for. You're a soldier, you were wounded so long ago, but you had technology. Phase camouflage so you could go around unseen, a teleport so you could travel, even tech to keep you alive for that little bit longer, but it broke, and it's keeping you trapped, forcing you to drain the life force of the living..."

"Ten seconds!" Perkins said as the brunette pressed her back against the wall.

"It won't let you go," Ember said, choking on a sob as the mummy raised its other hand to join the first one on the path towards her head. "Even in death, it won't let you go, not until the war ends. But it ends now because WE SURRENDER!"

The mummy's hands stopped barely an inch from her head.

"Zero." Perkins breathed.

Maisie gasped. "I can see it again!"

"It's okay." Clara said as the mummy lowered its hands and stepped back. "I think we all can."

"Do I start the clock?" Perkins asked.

The Doctor shook his head. "No. The clock has stopped."

Ember gave a tearful smile as the mummy raised its hand again, this time to salute her. The nausea was gone now. "Rest now. You've earned it."

The mummy then fell apart, disintegrating into a pile of dust and old bandages. The onlookers gave a unified sigh of relief as the Doctor quickly knelt by the remains and picked out a handheld device with wires attached.

"We were fighting that?" Clara asked.

The Doctor nodded. "So was he."

"Listen, what I said-"

"Save it. We're not out of the woods yet." The Doctor waved her off, holding the device up to the light to see it better. "Well, Gus, I think we solved your little puzzle. Ancient soldier being driven by malfunctioning tech."

"Thank you so much for your efforts. They are greatly appreciated." Gus said. "Unfortunately, survivors of this exercise are not required."

The Doctor rolled his eyes as he got his Sonic and went to the nearest table to grabbed another tool. "Ah, well, there's a shocker."

There was a whooshing sound, and everyone suddenly found it hard to breathe. "Air will now be removed from the entire train. We hope you have enjoyed your journey on the Orient Express."

"I take it you know a way out?" Clara wheezed.

"My enemy's enemy is my friend. Especially when he has a built in teleporter." The Doctor said as Maisie and Perkins passed out, along with several other people.

"Great! So use it!"

"A little more work..."

"Doctor!"

"Couple of minutes. Max. I'll give you a shout."

Ember knelt on the ground, feeling the room spinning. She already knew that she could hold out longer than the humans. "Any time you're ready!"

Clara collapsed to the floor.

"Aha! Got it!"

Then the world went white.

A little while later, Clara woke to find herself on what looked like a normal pebble beach on Earth, and the sky was pink like it was sunset or dawn. She sat up, only just then realising that she was wrapped up in one blanket while lying on another. A quick look around told her that it definitely wasn't Earth: the city nearby had tall, pointed buildings.

"Oh, hello again. Sleep well?"

Clara turned to see the Doctor and Ember not far away. The Doctor was the one who'd spoken, but his gaze was on Ember, who was looking at the marks he'd made in one of the few patches of sand with a stick. Her brow was furrowed.

"Weren't we just on a train?" Clara asked.

"Oh, that was ages ago."

"And?"

"And what?" The Doctor looked puzzled for a moment before it clicked. "Oh, and we got off the train. Oh, well, the teleporter worked eventually. Beamed everyone into the Tardis. No casualties, just a bevy of sleeping beauties. I tried hacking Gus from the Tardis, find out who set this all up. He really didn't like that. Set off some fail-safe thing. Blew up the train."

Clara blinked. "Blew up the train?"

"Blew up the train. But we got away. Then I dropped everyone off at the nearest civilised planet, which happened to be here." He gestured to the city. "You seemed happy asleep so I just left you."

"But then he got bored, so I asked him to teach me recreational mathematics." Ember called, though her eyes never left the marks in the sand. Then she blinked and grinned, looking up at the Doctor. "It's a happy prime number!"

The Doctor applauded her. "Well done! You'll need that later."

Clara smiled at the brunette before she looked at the Doctor. "So you saved everyone."

"No, I just saved you and I let everyone else suffocate." The Doctor said dryly. "Ha, ha, ha. Yeah, this is just my cover story."

"So, when you lied to Maisie, when you made me lie to Maisie-"

"I couldn't risk Gus finding out my plan and stopping me."

Clara nodded. "So you were pretending to be heartless."

The Doctor paused. "Would you like to think that about me? Would that make it easier? I didn't know if I could save her. I couldn't save Quell, I couldn't save Moorhouse. There was a good chance that she'd die too. At which point, I would have just moved onto the next, and the next, until I beat it." He moved to sit on the rock next to Clara. "Sometimes the only choices you have are bad ones. But you still have to choose."

Ember, who'd been looking at another string of mathematics that the Doctor had put in the sand for her, glanced at them. "If it was that easy to choose between good and bad, the universe would be a lot more simple. But I have a feeling that it isn't supposed to be simple anyway. Doctor?"

"Yes?"

"This one is happy, but not prime."

"Very good."

Another short while later, They were in the Tardis, but with one extra guest: Perkins was looking at workings in the lower level of the console room.

"It's uh... quite a vehicle you have here, Doctor." He said, lowering the cover and standing up. "I won't pretend to understand half of it. Having said that, I did notice you've got a couple of drive stacks need replacing."

"Oh, you did, did you?" The Doctor asked from where he and Ember were watching him from the stairs.

"Yeah. You should get someone in. And a job like that takes forever."

"Really? Well, I suppose, whoever I did get in, it might just be easier to have them stay on board for a while." The Doctor look at the man meaningfully. "I don't suppose... you'd know of anyone?"

Perkins understood the unspoken question. "No. Sorry, Doctor, but I don't think I do. That job could, uh... change a man."

"Yes, it does. Frequently." The Doctor led the man up the steps the main level. Ember stayed sat on the stairs, though she turned around to lean her elbows on the top step to watch. Clara was near the doors, her phone in hand. "Well, I won't keep you. Goodbye, Perkins. Good to meet you."

"You too, Doctor. And good luck." Perkins shook his hand, and then turned to tip his hat to Ember. "You take care as well."

Ember smiled and waved. Perkins then took his leave, tipping his hat to Clara on his way out.

Clara was quite for a few moments before she spoke, facing the Doctor. "Do you love it?"

"Love what?" The Doctor asked.

"I know it's scary and difficult, but do you love being the man making the impossible choice?"

"Why would I?"

"Because it's what you do, all day, every day."

"It's my life."

"Doesn't have to be." Clara pointed out. "Is it like..."

The Doctor looked at her when she trailed off. "Like what?"

"...An addiction?"

"You can't really tell if something's an addiction till you try and give it up."

"And you never have."

"Let me know how it goes."

At that moment, Clara's phone rang. She turned and went up the steps to the upper galley to take the call.

"You know, you did try to give it up once." Ember said, making the Doctor turn to face her. "You got hurt, and you tried to retire. Was willing to spend the rest of your life living in the clouds where no one could find you."

The Doctor tilted his head. "You haven't been there yet."

Ember shrugged. "No. But from what I saw, you wanted to stop because you didn't want to get hurt again."

"Do you know why I started again?"

"I know who got you to start again. One girl, who told to you to run, and remember."

The Doctor gave a small smile. "Ah, that was one of two reasons. There was a bigger factor that made me face the world again."

Ember blinked, puzzled. "And what was that?"

"I suppose it would be a spoiler for you, but we're not on a train, so I can tell you." He moved to crouch in front of her, looking her directly in the eye. "I went back to this life for two reasons. The first was to save Clara, and second... well, let's say that someone showed me that this universe still needed something. Something that only we can give it, just as that person gave it to me when I needed it."

Ember didn't speak, surprised by the admission. She had a feeling she knew who he was talking about, but the implications...

She spotted movement in the background, and she looked past the Doctor at Clara, to see her at the top of the steps leading to the upper galley.

The Doctor stood and turned as well, letting the subject drop for now. "Was that Danny? What did he want?"

"...He's fine with it." Clara said after a moment.

"Sorry, I..."

"Danny. He's fine with the idea of me and you knocking about." Clara said to clarify, walking down the steps and meeting him at the console. "It was his idea that we stop but, he's decided he doesn't mind and neither do I. Oh, to hell with the last hurrah. Let's keep going."

The Doctor smiled. "That's a big change of heart."

"Yeah, they happen."

"Seriously?"

"Look, as long as you get me home safe and on time, everything is great. I am so sorry. I've had a wobble. It's a big wobble, but it's fine. Forget about it. Now, shut up and give me some planets."

"Well, I'm glad that you said that, because you know that one that's made entirely of shrubs. Are you sure about this?" The Doctor had to check one last time.

"Are you? Have you ever been sure?"

"No."

"Then what are you waiting for? Let's go."

Ember grinned as the two of them pulled levers together, setting them into flight.

And there it is! Hope I did alright with it.

Oh, got something to ask: I've had a reviewer ask if there was going to be any smut in this saga, since I've got the rating up to maximum. Now, I can tell you that there is going to be mentions of it at the very least, but what would you think if I actually added the scenes in? Would you want to skip it, or do you silently want it as much as the reviewer hinted?

If you would prefer that I put in the least amount of explicit detail as possible, I can do that and post the actual scenes (lemons, smut, whatever you'd prefer to call it) in a separate post of work (possibly even on a different site, like Archive of Your Own) so that you won't have to skim past it to avoid it. There will still be mentions about it, but it would be safe for the most part. But please say so if you don't want it put here: I don't want to upset someone by putting it in the main body of work and making them have to tiptoe around it because they felt they couldn't tell me.

Next Time: Ember has to face masters of magic forces next. Can her control of the elements triumph? Stay tuned!