Chapter 32.
The Curator.
Grace woke with the taste of copper in her mouth. Briefly, she thought she was coming out of a dream, perhaps in her own bed, with the Doctor sitting in her recliner. He would have smiled and accused her of being an alien again. He would have asked what she was. He might have accused her of bringing that dog back to life. She wished he was there. The moment her eyes opened, his name came to her lips. It occurred to her that she had killed someone – albeit unintentionally – and the Doctor was the first person she wanted to tell.
She wanted his forgiveness.
But he was not there. She was in some kind of security room, with high-tech monitors covering one wall, and two security guards sitting in mounted chairs, playing a card game. There were other purple-skinned aliens as well, holding unfamiliar weapons and standing by the door.
Grace was wearing a vest that pinned her arms to her body. She was propped up in the corner, in full view of everyone. Escape seemed unlikely.
"What do you want?" She spoke to the purple aliens, tapping her heel on the ground when none of them acknowledged her. "Hey! What do you want? If this is about the rock I licked-"
One of them turned and bore his teeth, "The specimen will behave."
The specimen?
"What does that mean?" He went silent. "I know you can talk! Tell me what you mean!"
Nothing. Grace struggled to get her feet under her, failed, and then slid down the wall. She lashed out with both feet, catching one of the aliens in the ankle. He simply moved a little further away. He didn't even look up, and Grace was left half-slouched.
It didn't stay that way for long.
Another alien came in, nodded to the guards, and then came to appraise Grace. He had skin textured like the purple ones, but it was orange, and he was more human. He had two front-facing eyes, bony prominences over his forehead, and a very fancy outfit.
He crouched right in front of her and poked her in the cheek, where the mayor from the past had given her quite a bruise. Grace leaned away from the touch.
He wrote something on a clipboard.
"What do you want?" She struggled to sit up again, scooting into her corner.
The orange alien smiled, and wrote on his clipboard again. "You can talk. Very good." His voice was high and regal, and sharp like his eyes. "You, my dear, have the honor of being added to a very special collection dedicated to your people. Contain your excitement."
Grace felt a jolt. My people?
"I'm human. This museum is for my people."
He shook his head, noting something else in his clipboard. "No. Everyone gets scanned as they come through the front doors. It looks like you arrived with… one human, and one… Time Lord? Is that correct?" He looked back at the guards, giving an excited laugh. "I'll have to look into that! Oh, but they're so much trouble, aren't they? But so unique. Every one of them."
"I'm human."
The alien pulled a device from his belt, running it over her face and then checking the screen. He nodded. "Yes. No. But you are terribly confused. I have to say, I'm honored. You're the first Lightbringer to ever come to this museum. I had lost hope of ever seeing one."
Lightbringer.
Strangely, the name seemed familiar.
"I don't know what you mean," Grace went on. "Let me go."
"I can't do that. That would be… well, that would be akin to treason. I'm the Curator, my sweet. I'm not ever going to let you go."