Keeping track of time, Ripley paced around the darkness, the day ended, and they're still in the room. Thrax didn't come back for them and there's no telling when he'd come, if he'd come back.

Sharing the pies with John, the two sustained themselves for the most part, but eating only lemon meringue pies, miniature or not, wouldn't suffice for them for long.

"What're you in here for?" Ripley sarcastically asked John.

John shrugged in the darkness as he replied, "I don't know. I was doing my planning, took a quick walk to get something to drink, and ended up here."

He admitted that it might've been because he upset the headmaster, but in fairness, headmasters are always upset about something.

"Well, how'd you survive this long?" Ripley continued.

John told her that he didn't know.

"Guess I'm lucky," he shrugged.

Ripley pointed out if he's lucky, he'd have his screwdriver.

"I don't know where I put it," John complained about losing it.

He had it on the desk, right there in front of him, there's nobody in the classroom, and the moment he stepped away and came back, it's gone.

"What kind of screwdriver is it?" Ripley wanted to know.

She knows them all by heart, considering what she does for a living, that's one of the requirements of working in her profession.

John said that it's unique and one of a kind. Few exist like it and he wanted to find it as it's too rare for him to find another like it.

"What, did they take it from you, it's just a screwdriver, right?" Ripley's baffled at John's obsession with the screwdriver.

John's convinced that the Choeras Zygon didn't take it. Someone else did.

"A student?" Ripley raised a brow.

She brought up that John said explicitly that he was alone when the screwdriver went missing. It could've very well rolled off the desk and into a crevice for all he knew.

John explained, "It's a really unique screwdriver."

Sighing, Ripley didn't want to get into politics of screwdrivers and wanted to find a way out of the room without alerting Thrax and his subordinates. The sooner she did, the sooner she can intercept the final day when the fire broke out.

"Which student could've taken it?" Ripley asked him.

It sounded farfetched that a student snuck in and stole the alleged screwdriver. More when there's no inherent value in a screwdriver. Ripley owned dozens and they're not worth that much on their own. Even older screwdrivers, despite their longevity compared to their newer counterparts, weren't worth much to consider a heist.

Students stealing isn't unusual, but it's rather obtuse to say that students would've actively stolen a screwdriver without some sort of a plan.

This comes from years of experience in school.

John went through a laundry list of suspects and concluded that either Lupus or Berkley took it.

Ripley responded that none of them talked about it and she would've noticed them messing with it if one of them did.

"Look, we can sit around and play Cluedo all day or we can figure out how the hell to get out of here before the 18th," Ripley sighed as she looked towards where she heard John.

Footfall stopped and John said, "Well, I know one thing we can count on, they're not going to remember a thing."

He said the teachers and the headmaster the Choeras Zygon stowed away didn't make any new memories other than what they did last before the aliens captured them.

"You been in here long enough to know about these things?" Ripley asked John.

John replied that he noticed them.

Ripley asked, "Do they shape shift freely or are we going to see some empty bodies when they're done for the night?"

It took time, but the name finally resonated with Ripley, and she wondered how much of it's true and how much of it's just embellishment.

John said they just need a bit of the person's blood to take the form. However, changing to another form's problematic, as it's not wise to mix two different bloods.

"Bad mixes," John summed.

Ripley gestured as she asked how they changed forms and John told her that'd they have to deplete the blood currently in their bodies to do it. If they'd been outside the school long enough it'll do the job, but they're content in staying around it. Thus, meaning they didn't need to get another bit of blood from their victims to keep the form.

"Okay, so, they're real, any ideas short of fire to stop them?" Ripley asked John since he seemed to know enough about them to get an idea.

John told her it's not that simple.

"I've seen their real form more than once, not a pretty sight if you're afraid of bugs," John summed.

He said their exoskeleton's thick enough that firearms wouldn't work. Like armor, extreme heat's the only way to do damage.

"I assume DIY wasp killers aren't going to work either, right?" Ripley hedged a guess.

John shook his head in the darkness and said, "No, thick exoskeleton and protected compound eyes, stuff's not going to do anything to it."

Extreme heat's the only option.

"And no peace, either. They're bugs, they don't think like a human, they just do," John added.

Peace is not an option with them.

They're going to do whatever they damned well pleased and if anyone tries to stop them, all they'd get is a stinger through the gut and injection of toxins that melts them from the inside out.

Choeras Zygon got that way from normal Zygon splicing their DNA with the normal Choeras, resulting in the new species. Unfortunately, as noted, it didn't end well for the scientists who took part in the experiments.

Now, normal Zygon treated the hybrids as nothing more than pests and shuns them. If not outright kill them if crossed.

Not that the Choeras Zygon cared.

They're not too fond of listening to anyone's opinions.

Since they're just a lab experiment gone awry and hadn't levels of sentience like the normal Zygon, it won't matter if John or Ripley killed them all. They have no place in the natural order, it'd kill them off itself if they didn't take the initiative.

"Okay, what's the plan?" Ripley asked John if he had any sort of plan to get out of here.

John told her that he couldn't do much without his screwdriver. Ripley asked what it have to do with anything and heard that's important that John retrieve his screwdriver.

"Okay, screwdriver aside, what's the next thing on getting out of here?" Ripley continued.

John sighed and said that the only thing he could think of is to start a fire.

"Do it on the 18th when nobody's here," John said.

That'd mean they'll wait for another day or so.

Ripley tried to tell him that Berkley's going to be here on the 18th and stopped when it seemed that he's already aware of what's to come.

"Wait a minute," Ripley tilted her head. "Who're you?"

She heard back, "John Smith."

Ripley shook her head.

"How do you know he's going to die?" Ripley asked him.

He said, "Well, it's obvious, isn't it?"

Ripley argued, "Why?"

If they can get the Choeras Zygon in one place and set the school on fire, they could do it without having Berkley die.

"Look, I don't make the rules," John argued with her.

Ripley asked, "Why does he have to die, why can't he go to Oxford, do more with his life?"

It's not fair that Berkley has to die to keep the aliens from escaping the school.

He's too young!

"Because he'll die either way," John revealed to her.

He told her that if Berkley didn't die today, he'll die another day, only that time, nobody's going to remember him.

"He gets sick and he dies, tender age of twenty. Just before he got his rejection letter from Oxford," John bitterly told Ripley. "You think I didn't try to change the course of events?"

If Berkley didn't die in the fire, he'll go on to send in his application letter to Oxford. However, he'll die before getting the rejection letter. He ended up contracting tuberculosis and died from it, bedridden in a hospital someway far.

"So, listen, the sooner we can beat them, the sooner we can go home and cry in our pillows at night," John summed.

He showed that he's seen it happen before and knows how heartbreakingly unfair it is for something like it to happen, even if there should've been a chance to change the outcome.

As it stood, Berkley must die in the fire.

"What if it goes wrong?" Ripley raised a question about the plan.

John replied swiftly, "Then we'll have to try it again and again, for however long it takes."

If Berkley didn't die in the fire, then they'll have to repeat the event over and over until he does.

It's not something John or Ripley want to think about, but if John's telling the truth, as painful as it sounded. Berkley wasn't going to make it far in life like he wanted. If he survived long enough, the rejection letter would've killed him, if not literary.

This fix point is as good as it'll be for Berkley. Regardless of John and Ripley's opinion.

"Believe me, I don't want him to die. He's a really smart boy that deserves his place in Oxford. It's not fair for him to get the short end of the stick. This won't make you feel any better, but his sacrifice saved lives. Countless lives. I don't have to tell you what'll happen if these things get out, right?" John weakly told Ripley that even though he didn't want Berkley to die, too, he knew that his death would've saved thousands of lives if not more.

Ripley hated the idea that a boy died in the fire to save his school, noble as it was. It just didn't seem right to her and John agreed with her, but told her, it's as close to a happy ending he could've gotten.

"If it makes you feel any better, he'll die before the fire licks him," John tried to give Ripley perspective.

Berkley would've died prior to the fire and that he wouldn't feel the flames burning him alive.

"How'd he die?" Ripley wanted to know.

John told her, "I can't tell you."

Ripley tried to get John to tell her, but he wouldn't. He only said that Berkley died before the fire killed him and it's better than dying a slow painful death up in a high altitude.

"How do you know all this?" Ripley asked John.

John wouldn't say, but he made it clear that he tried numerous times to save Berkley, but he couldn't. It ended the same way.

Berkley will die.

He'll never achieve his dreams of going to Oxford.

One way or another, he'll die.

So, John decided, if he should die, he should die a hero.

Even if the world at large won't know what really happened.

"Is that how come I never heard about it?" Ripley wondered aloud.

Lupus knew what happened.

However, he had no other choice but to cover it up.

He never said anything about it, but as Ripley thought back, she probably wouldn't believe him.

How she wished she did.

"Exactly. He didn't want you to know," John said weakly.

Ripley's convinced the drama teacher knew a lot more than he opted to tell her and he affirmed this.

"I thought things can't get through tears," Ripley tried to bring up the things she and the other encountered throughout their adventures.

Barring the angels, but that could've been the doing of the mysterious man who disappeared through it with his female friend.

Sighing, John quickly stated that sometimes, very rarely, tears do let something through. Unfortunately, as tears have weaker energy, it's best if no one tries to go through one. Sudden changes in energy levels could've easily cause it to close and that'd be a nasty end.

"What you're thinking of are rifts. Tears don't last long, just causes feedbacks and makes people go ghost crazy. Rifts, rifts are a rare event, anyone or anything can get through them if they're suicidal enough to try. I don't recommend going through them, though. You never know where you'll end up. Rifts go anywhere and I mean anywhere. Ever wonder where Nessie came from, she came from a rift that formed under the loch. You don't want to travel through it and see where she comes from."

Clearing up the misconception, John explained the differences between tears and rifts.

Tears happen frequently and normally harmless. They're responsible for the ideals of ghosts and so for, at least according to him. They broadcast events and whatnot that happened in another universe that rubbed against the hosting universe.

A farmer's family might've lived on the exact same land as a modern family, in the 1800s, but he and his family aren't dead, they're alive in another universe.

A human's mind can't understand the concept so regularly, they'll think they're haunted.

Sometimes they'll think the apparitions are evil, where it's just emotions the bled through from the tear.

John said emotions carry over in every universe.

Sometimes a person gets mad for no reason, must've had a counterpart in another universe that had a reason. Vice versa, too.

As John stressed, these aren't tears.

Rifts.

Rifts are rare and for good reason.

Every now again, a rift opens and if anyone or anything unsuspecting finds it, it's dealer's choice on where they end up.

Often, grimly, they don't come back and sometimes, it's better not to think much about what happened to them.

It'd explain how yetis from another planet ended up on earth, they ended up going through a rift, and winds up in a completely different universe and completely different planet.

Rifts, they last for a while, like a wound, it takes time for them to close and mend.

They only happen when a catalyst occurs.

Like thunderstorms, it takes more energy to make a rift, that often it falls apart before it even opens.

When it does open, it's a guess who or what comes in.

"So, what you're saying, those stupid videos of people seeing Bigfoot might've actually seen it?" Ripley flinched.

All those idiots who ran their mouths about seeing a supposed creature in the forests of Washington state, might've had credence after all.

John said that's still possible that it's just some guy in a furry suit, but he wouldn't be at all surprised if it's true that a creature fitting the description went through a rift without realizing.

Easily went through the rift again if it felt like it. Could've died from the change in environment. It's anyone's guess.

"So, I'd suggest you settle down and wait," John told her.

Ripley mustered she didn't come alone and that the people she's with would look for her since they noticed her absence by now.

John's not at all surprised and said, "If he has any lemons in his head, he'll grit his teeth and go on with the show."

Dryly, he told Ripley that if Matt's smarter than he looks, he'd put on a face and wait for the 18th too.

"What if something goes wrong?" Ripley worried.

John assured her that he planned everything ahead of time. Trial and error. It'll go according to plan. Come 18th at 12:00:00 AM the school's burning down.

Glimpsing around the darkness, Ripley wearily remarked that she wished the Choeras Zygon given them lights.

She saw John moving around in the other part of the room, feeling around the wall, he asked if she had anything like a knife.

"Yeah, I got one, a pocketknife, good enough?" Ripley responded.

John nods and Ripley reached down into her sock, pulling out the hidden pocketknife she kept for any occasion.

She slowly walked towards John and felt his hand when he took the pocketknife from her as he thanked her.

"Step back," John said to her.

As she did, she heard the knife scrap against the wall until she started seeing sparks fly.

Using the empty box that housed the pies as a wick, John held the box close to the wall as he scrapped the knife against it with his other hand.

Sparks danced on the box before evaporating, but John continued this until there's a glowing ember resting on the logo for Lovely Café. Scraping more, the ember grew and small flames appeared. Gently, John blew on the flames and it grew as it lit up the lower half of his smiling face.

Setting it down on the ground, the fire burned.

"How're we going to keep it going?" Ripley asked.

John said there's some old boxes near her that she could use to fuel the flames.

Feeling around, Ripley felt them, and pulled them out of their spots. She pried them open and tore the lids off, giving them to John as he carefully nestled them near the flame, coaxing it to grow.

"How long do we have to wait?" Ripley asked John.

John told her that because of his toiling, it won't be long before they're able to safely escape the room without harm done to the students and Ripley's friends.

"So, since we're stuck here, suppose you can tell me something," John sat near the fire, cross legged. He encouraged Ripley to do the same and she wearily did.

Ripley inquired what he wanted to know and he asked, "Is he the Doctor?"

Narrowing her eyes, she barely sees John's face, and she replied, "Who wants to know?"

John raised his hand as he said that he wanted to know. He's curious about Matt. Studying him with the flames barely illuminating his face, Ripley couldn't see him closely.

"Yes. He is," Ripley told John.

John asked her, "Good man?"

She nodded.

"Good," John said.

Ripley inquired how he knew about the Doctor, but John scoffed and pointed out that she didn't need to ask twice.

"Does it ever get easier?" Ripley asked him.

John exhaled as he scratched the side of his head as he said, "No, not really. That's why you don't do this by yourself."

Sometimes the Doctor's alone, but that's not a good thing, as the events and situations eventually take their toll on him. Without someone to keep him levelheaded, it's only a matter time before the Doctor cracks under pressure.

"Feel a little bad taking away his thunder," Ripley noted how she's always in a peculiar situation that Matt should've taken part instead.

John comforted her saying, "Oh, more the merrier. Trust me, sharing the load helps."

Even though Ripley didn't like the idea of stealing Matt's thunder in learning things, she's helping him with the adventure in her own way.

While he's running around, she's picking up the knowledge that would've helped him in the long haul.

Saves time and prevents fatigue with the unwritten arrangement.

"Guess that's a good point," Ripley frowned.

As she sat near the fire, trying to see through the darkness, she heard a noise in the distance, and John stood up from his spot.

He told her to do the same and she did.

John boisterously said, "Look alive. It's time!"