All notes and warnings and disclaimers in Chapter 1
Sorry…there is a lot of character/subplot development here.
**
Once upon a time, when Alastair Lethbridge-Stewart was a younger man, a younger officer, and he had joined up with UNIT, he had assumed that he would see adventure. Then, on a mission, he had met a strange man called the Doctor. Everything after that, all his missions, could be measured on a level of adventure against the line defined by that Time Lord.
And this situation was no different. He stood in a small room, surrounded. The Brigadier glanced around the room, his eyes narrowed. He raised an eyebrow as one of the soldiers approached him. "I don't suppose you will tell me where we are…or what you plan to do with me."
Another man, dressed in a simple single-breasted suit, turned and met the aging military man with a bright smile. "I can tell you that you are still in the military compound that you entered with…I believe…his name was…" he snapped his fingers for a moment, tapping the tips of his other fingers against his lips. "Turlough. Yes…Turlough. And I am Steven Reynolds…. envoy from the Minister of Energy."
The Brigadier nodded slowly, accepting what he was told. "But you are not all that you seem are you?"
"I was told that you were a fast learner, observant and a born leader," Reynolds answered, turning back toward the window and the endless green outside. "It really is a shame that you are on the other side, the other team so to speak. You would be an incredible ally. However, based on your previous history…"
"How…"
"I work for the government, my dear Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, I know everything there is to know about you. How old you are, what you have done, where you have gone, and…" Reynolds lifted his hand to point back at the old soldier, "…the company that you keep."
Reynolds turned and walked back to his desk. "Especially a certain man named, I believe, Doctor John Smith, scientific advisor to UNIT. You have been friends and coworkers for almost a decade and a half. Strange, however, that there have been three different identification pictures on file for the man." He lifted his eyes to Alastair. "But I digress, you did ask whether I was all that I seem to be. No, I am not. And you will not be yourself either in a little while."
"So you will tell me what you plan to do with me?" The Brigadier grimaced in impatience. He crossed his hands over his crotch. "And with the boy that I came with here…and the innocent scientists…"
"No one is completely innocent, Brigadier. But yes, I will tell you. You will become the same as me…and I hope that you will be able to keep that wonderfully effervescent personality that you have been exhibiting so wantonly. Only a very few duplicates maintain their base personality. The ability to do as told and yet think for themselves." Reynolds glanced over at Smith. "You see, Smith here, lost his ability to have even the most rudimentary sense of humor. And he hates humans. I don't hate humans; I just feel that the Homo Sapiens race is a dead end evolutionary track whose position on a luscious planet should be capitulated. The Supreme Dalek created me. I believe in their cause, as you will too. Although I do dislike having to go through the time intensive method of creating duplicates, it can't be helped in this instance. The Dalek's plan for this planet, for control is so very logical, it seems useless not to follow them. Take him to the copy room, Smith."
The Brigadier shrugged off the hand that was laid against his arm. He knew his best chance at freedom would be when he was less surrounded. But he wondered if he would ever be alone enough, before they ran him under a Xerox machine. He turned and walked away, between the two soldiers that had led him from the cell. As he neared the door, Reynolds called out: "Oh, and one more thing, Brigadier, although I do consider myself civilized, I do love killing. And I will kill you when you are done being copied. It just would not do to have two of you running around."
The Brigadier rolled his eyes. He cursed his diplomatic status and for the fifth time bemoaned leaving his gun back in London.
**
Turlough was examining the welded iron at the window. Although it had no glass, the bars were so close together that there was no hope of getting out. He whistled and reached up to pull his tie from around his neck. It was tossed to join his coat. Al frowned as the boy missed the pile and the article landed on him.
"Don't you have acid in that coat somewhere?" Turlough asked, testily. "It would make escaping so much easier."
"I work in a microbiology lab. I would more likely be able to infect you with something particularly nasty than have sulphuric acid," Penny launched back. "And I thought you said that you have been in several situations like this; haven't you thought of an escape kit yet?"
"Both of you, please…arguing is not helping the situation."
"It keeps me busy," Penny answered. "But you are right, it is not helping the situation." She shrugged her shoulders, making her white coat billow. "What can we do?"
Al glanced at his young assistant. "There are two ways into this room: the door and the window. There are two ways out."
Turlough looked around at the ceiling and the walls. "What about the vent system?"
With a vicious shake of his head, Al turned down the idea. "The rooms in this wing are compartmentalized. In case of a virus or chemical spill in one of the labs, the rest are not affected. If we were to crawl into the vent we would only end up…"
"Back where we began?" Turlough supplied, putting his chin on his hand.
"Yes, although the vent system goes to the roof…we would have about a fifteen to twenty foot vertical climb…" Al agreed.
Penny groaned. Then she had a sudden thought. "These duplicates, Turlough, do they still have all of the basal drives of a man?"
Turlough rubbed a tired hand through his hair and eyed his new acquaintance blearily. "As far as I know, yes…possibly. Most of the ones I met were less emotionally available than a rock, but I suppose they do have most of the basal drives of a man. Why?"
Penny smiled widely and reached up to unbutton her coat. "I think I can get the boys in here, if you two would be so good as to take care of them once the get through the door. Oh…and Al…" she said, "I don't want to hear anything about this later…understand?"
**
"Smith?"
The short man put down the clipboard he had been carrying. "Yes, sir?"
"That nice American government man that accompanied us here…"
"He's already been disposed of, sir. Duplicated and disposed." Smith answered, folding his hands in front of him.
"The duplication chamber? Has it been completely reset? I think the sooner we remove the original Brigadier, the sooner I can release the others from the holding room. We need to get those scientists back into the lab as quickly as possible. And the assassinations...an escalation. The invasion will happen in one week."
"But, sir…the vaccine…"
"Will not be ready…yes, Smith, we know…"
"Then…."
"The invasion will escalate in one week, Smith," Reynolds answered patiently. "Do not ask questions that require answers that you will not understand. Just check on the duplication process…and bring that boy, Turlough to come see me. He is known as a companion of the Doctor." He held up his hand to stem argument. "Run along, Smith."
**
The Doctor glanced at the interior door. Tegan had been gone a very long time, in his estimation. He lowered his head tiredly, rubbing at the back of his neck. Then, with a few decisive flicks of switches, he strode toward the corridor. He hoped against hope that she had not lost herself in the massive maze that was the TARDIS. After all, of all the companions that he had had over his long traveling history, Tegan seemed to be the one with an affinity for hiking the hallowed halls. He opened the door and stopped.
Tegan was standing in the corridor, clearly reaching out to open the door. They were equally startled into silence for a minute, before she went to press on the door behind him to enter the console room. The Doctor rubbed his chin as she walked by him. "Tegan…I have the distinct impression that you were not dressed that way when you left the console room."
She nodded and glanced down at her clothes. "I had hoped that wearing the kind of clothes that I had worn with you the first time around would help me with feeling more…in control."
He agreed; it was a good idea at that. "In times of stress, being surrounded by familiar things can help bring the mind back on an even keel."
"Forgot how large the clothes cupboard was here, Doc…" she brushed her hair over her shoulder. The outfit that she wore was colorful, but comfortable; a black pair of chino pants and a red, black and gold striped shirt. She had worn the same sort of bright clothes when she had traveled on board the TARDIS. This time, however, she wore sensible, black walking shoes. "Are we there, then?"
"Ah…yes…" the Doctor walked around her to the console. "Yes…Brazil…you know…" he said, as he watched the rotor stop its rise and fall. "I was to Brazil well before you were born…1947, actually. Beautiful country, lovely cities…people are, for the most part, friendly."
Tegan crossed her arms over her chest with a wry grin. As her hip leaned against the console, she asked: "And this laboratory? You landed near it?"
"Course I did, Tegan," the Doctor said, indignantly, reaching to open viewscreen. "The laboratory is right outside Rio de Janeiro. And we are…"
She rolled her eyes as she faced the screen. It was clear that the TARDIS was surrounded by undergrowth. "In the jungle…with civilization nowhere in sight."
The Doctor pointed at her. "Ye of little faith, Tegan. I am sure that we are very close." He jammed his hat on his head and spun on his heel. With a fast stride, he left the room. Tegan suddenly felt like laughing and followed him with a large smile on her face.
When she exited, the Doctor was swiping leaves from his face. He moved a little away and let a branch fall back on her absentmindedly. She grumbled as she pushed it out of the way. It was a good-natured grumble.
"Hmm…we appear to be some distance from the compound, Tegan. Feel up to a hike? Good. Lock the door will you…the TARDIS will still remember your handprint…the old girl must have landed us here…for a reason…she knew how important it was to get us on target. There must be danger ahead."
"When isn't there?" she asked.
The Doctor shot her a friendly glare. And then he was off, walking quickly away from the TARDIS. Tegan twisted around, pulled the door shut and pressed her thumb against the lock. There was a resounding click. And then, she started after the Doctor in a jog. She caught up to him quickly. "Doctor?"
"Hmmm, yes?" he answered absentmindedly. He stopped for a moment, gazing at the sky…what could be seen…and then took off at a fast walk in a slightly different direction.
"You said that you changed the thumbprints on the TARDIS when your friends left…"
"Yes."
"Then why hasn't mine…"
The Doctor pushed another branch out of the way and began to stride down a slight incline. "Keep up, Tegan. If I am right about direction and distance, we don't have time to waste."
The Brigadier eyed the table with trepidation. There were ankle restraints, arm restraints and a sturdy looking waist restraints. The part that caused worry was the several electrical patches that would be attached to his head and throat.
He motioned to the table. "I don't suppose I get a last phone call, do I?" Alastair opted for the humorous approach.
"You will be duplicated and then destroyed. Lie on the table."
The Brigadier walked around the center console and glanced at the instrumentation. It didn't look as complicated as the TARDIS.
"Lie on the table." The order was repeated with menace.
He lifted his chin defiantly and stared at his captor. He went to walk to the table, dodging neatly to the side, hitting one of his guards, grabbing the gun and began a headlong run to the door. His flight was cut short as three more guards that had been flanking the door stepped into his path. Four men, four guns. The Brigadier sighed. He knew that there was no way of escape at that moment. He would have to bide his time.
With a heavy sigh laced with a moan, he slid onto the table and stared at the ceiling. "Well, get on with it would you?"
**
08978090973242-9874234-a
Maintenance of the time corridor stabilized. Transmissions continue. Estimated five day growth of the eye of the vortex until Daleks can enter the vortex unharmed.
**
"Reroute power to the vortex and send what information is needed to the Earth Laboratory for vaccine production. When work is complete, the scientists will be transferred to the Battle Cruiser."
**
Penny leaned back against the wall, her legs crossed and her hair down. Her white coat was lying on the bed; her shirt was partially undone. "Hi boys," she said, in sultry tones as the door opened. The two guards glanced at one another.
"You seeing what I'm seeing?" one asked the other.
"Either that or you have very vivid dreams, Collins."
The two guards walked forward into the room. Turlough launched out of his corner first, his fisted hands landed heavily on the first guard. Al followed quickly, but missed the man's shoulder, landing a blow against the Collins' head. Both men crumpled to the ground. Penny smiled at their still forms.
"That was easier than I thought," she commented happily. "It seems that I have not lost my touch."
Al shook his head. All three pulled and pushed the prone bodies into the corner and walked out the door quietly. When it was pulled shut, they were pleased to hear a wonderful click of a locked door with them on the freedom side. Turlough waited only a moment before he was running away from the door with a hissed: "Come on…"
**
The Doctor stopped at the edge of the large clearing in the trees that contained the compound. They were still more than a half a mile away; he wanted to be cautious, however. There were only a few guards, but those guards did have guns. The underbrush was too thick where they were standing; there wouldn't be any patrols in this area. Tegan pushed down the leaves a little lower than the Doctor and gazed in as well.
"Is that it?" she whispered.
"Yes."
"Are you sure?" she asked.
The Doctor rolled his eyes and glanced at her. "When we find the duplicate in control, you can ask them."
She frowned and eased to the ground. The walk had invigorated her and now she was almost upset that they were just sitting there. The Doctor's coat was spread out on the ground and she crouched back down on it. He joined her second later. When he rested back against the tree trunk, she turned to him. "Why are we just sitting here?"
"You expect me to just walk in?" he asked. "It is obvious that Turlough and the Brigadier are already here. What good could I do them if I got captured as well? Hmmm?"
"A sight more than just sitting here, I dare say," she hissed back.
"Feeling better, are you?" he raised an eyebrow. "For a moment there, you sounded just like the Tegan of old."
"Well, we can't just leave them there…" she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.
"And I can't just barge in the front door. I have a plan, but it will require some stealth…preferable night. I have to think of you as well…"
"Doctor…" she complained. "Don't make me an excuse…"
"I'm not. Let me hear your plan."
Tegan opened her mouth, but then shook her head. "I don't have one."
"Then don't complain about my lack of a plan that satisfies you," he answered, somewhat condescendingly. He rose up on his knees and glanced at the clearing. "It will be nightfall in less than an half an hour. At that point, I will be going into the compound through that building there…" he pointed at the building nearest them. " If all goes according to plan, I should be back there with Turlough and the Brigadier before you can get into too much trouble."
"Your plans never go according to plan," she reminded him.
"You don't understand the practicality of being unpredictable, Tegan. If I don't know what my next move is, how can they?" He joked, and sat back down. Tegan continued to frown and glanced off to the side, rubbing her arms. He observed her for a few minutes in silence. There was less pain in the lines of her face now. She seemed more confident than she had been just two days previous when he had turned up on her doorstep.
"I didn't change your handprint, because I had a feeling I would see you again," he began lowly. "After all, you did come back once, Tegan. What was stopping you from coming back again?"
"If you said no…"
"I wouldn't have," he countered quickly. "If I remember correctly, I asked you not to go." He plowed into completely different conversation in order to get a completely honest answer out of her. "What was Timothy like?"
"What? Oh…tall…smart…"
"What did he look like?"
"Does it matter?"
"Of course it matters, Tegan…everything matters. Tell me…what was his coloring?"
Tegan rose on her knees and checked the guards below. "There are less down there now…"
"Probably the changing of the guard, so to speak. Was he ugly, Tegan, is that why you are avoiding the question?" he pressed.
"Of course not," she bit out in anger. "He was very handsome…tall…blond…" She stopped as what she said sunk into her conscious mind. She turned and glanced down at him. He was sitting quite still, his hands folded to look like he was praying. His hands were pressed against his lips. He was not looking at her.
"He looked like me, didn't he, Tegan?"
Tegan closed her eyes and sighed. In her mind's eye, she saw how her Tim had looked the day she had met him. He was tall, willowy, blond, but with longer hair than the Doctor. His eyes were more hazel than blue and his shoulders were less broad. Tim could have passed for a younger brother of the Time Lord, but there was no denying that there was a physical resemblance between the two.
"It's not what you think," Tegan began, holding her hand up. She stopped as the Doctor lifted his eyes and in the falling night, pierced her with a stare. "He could have been in your family, but he wasn't you. Why are you asking me about this, anyway?" she spat out, quietly.
"There is more going on in your mind, Tegan than just the reaction to trauma…and what you just told me is the final piece of the puzzle," he said quietly. When she opened her mouth to argue, he held up his hand. "Hear me out. I think I know the full reason behind your current mental state…but telling you this is not going to clear it up for you. But it will give us a starting point."
She sat back down, removed from him and stared at him in the growing dark.
"You were suffering from a mild form of PTSD when you left the TARDIS…it was nothing that would have hurt you in the long run, if it had been properly dealt with at the time. But you thought that removing yourself from the source was the best idea and granted, it might have been. However, on top of suffering from trauma, you left when you had been missing for several months, with no money, no place to live, and just the clothes on your back. That caused stress, which compounded what you were already feeling at the time. Additionally, a few months later, you started to regret your decision, and were probably just getting back on your proverbial feet…money, residence and job wise, am I correct so far?"
Tegan simply stared back at him.
"Well then…I know this much about you, Tegan: when you regret something that occurred from your own actions, you suffer from anger and guilt. In this case, I think it was more guilt than anger. That guilt and having no other recourse, you let it fester inside. About this time, you were starting to have trouble sleeping and were having problems with work. Correct?"
"This is scary…" Tegan breathed.
"Ah…I am dead on, I think. Fine. So, about this time…about six months after you left Turlough and I, you met Timothy. He looked like me. You said he was smart. You probably felt that it was more like me than he was."
"Stop." Tegan spoke harshly.
He nodded. "Let me finish. You went to him, and probably fell in love with him. I don't know, Tegan. At this point, I can't tell what you would have felt. But whether you were in love with him or not is not the point." He pointed a finger at the ground to drive home his point. "You gravitated to him because you thought that he was me…deep inside and you wanted your problems fixed. You thought I could help you. And I can. Me. Not Tim, and about the time that you married him, you realized that too. So you were angry with yourself and angry with him, deep inside because you could not get the help you needed. That was the straw that broke the camel's back, the drop that filled the bucket. You went into full blown mental trauma. You remained with Tim because you are loyal and stubborn and tried your best to be a good wife."
He stopped and leaned forward. "Am I right?"
Tegan leaned away from him, and bit her lip. She felt like running. How could he know so much? "Doctor…"
He nodded. "Just tell me yes or no."
"Yes…" she answered, turning away from him. "I hate that you know me that well."
"Someone has to," he said, quietly. "You said I was your responsibility, Tegan. You are as much mine as I was yours. We are friends, you know. And as one of my companions told me a long time ago…that is what friends do: look out for each other. Now that I have an idea, we can trace back through your mind and figure out a way to help you. At least I know what to do…" he got up on his knees to stare out at the trees. "You see, the problem with you humans is that your thought processes, your actions and your emotions cannot be separated. It makes a bit more troublesome to solve problems. It is true that traveling with me was not the easiest on your mind…but it has compounded since you left. I think maybe two or three weeks of intense intervention we should be able to get beyond this. I can help you with most of it, but in reality this is all going to have to be your doing. We just have to iron out your emotions along the way."
"That's it make it sound like you are doing the laundry," she stated sarcastically.
He gave her a brilliant smile. "Right. So now…are you ready to go into the compound?"
"After that you want me to come with you in there?"
"Absolutely. I have one problem ready to be tackled and the other…our friends…now need our attention. And we should get going."
Tegan sighed as the Doctor stood up and walked away, toward the compound, the nearest building and through the trees. She stood and followed. She did feel lighter, stronger. A little, a blessed little. In reality she didn't hate that he knew her that well; she was glad. He was right…someone had to know her like that. He held back the branches for her and she scrambled under them. It was well after they breached the perimeter that they remembered the Doctor's coat, lying forgotten in the underbrush.
**
Turlough caught Penny as she jumped from the window to the ground. Al was waiting his turn to jump to outside. Turlough smiled, and let the girl down. She ran to the corner of the building and looked around. As Al and Turlough came up along side her, she whispered: "Turlough, don't you want to save your friend?"
"Who?" he asked.
"The Brigadier," Penny pressed.
"Oh…I can do a better job with more firepower…"
"Guns?"
"No, the Doctor."
Penny grinned. "I hope this man is as good as you say." She pressed back against building and grabbed Turlough by the scruff of his neck. He groaned as he hit the wall. "Quiet…someone is coming!"
**
The Brigadier rose from the table unsteadily: it felt like someone had run a steamroller through his brain. But it was not his mental state that sent him stumbling back against the table for support. It was the fact that he was facing himself.
Sorry…there is a lot of character/subplot development here.
**
Once upon a time, when Alastair Lethbridge-Stewart was a younger man, a younger officer, and he had joined up with UNIT, he had assumed that he would see adventure. Then, on a mission, he had met a strange man called the Doctor. Everything after that, all his missions, could be measured on a level of adventure against the line defined by that Time Lord.
And this situation was no different. He stood in a small room, surrounded. The Brigadier glanced around the room, his eyes narrowed. He raised an eyebrow as one of the soldiers approached him. "I don't suppose you will tell me where we are…or what you plan to do with me."
Another man, dressed in a simple single-breasted suit, turned and met the aging military man with a bright smile. "I can tell you that you are still in the military compound that you entered with…I believe…his name was…" he snapped his fingers for a moment, tapping the tips of his other fingers against his lips. "Turlough. Yes…Turlough. And I am Steven Reynolds…. envoy from the Minister of Energy."
The Brigadier nodded slowly, accepting what he was told. "But you are not all that you seem are you?"
"I was told that you were a fast learner, observant and a born leader," Reynolds answered, turning back toward the window and the endless green outside. "It really is a shame that you are on the other side, the other team so to speak. You would be an incredible ally. However, based on your previous history…"
"How…"
"I work for the government, my dear Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, I know everything there is to know about you. How old you are, what you have done, where you have gone, and…" Reynolds lifted his hand to point back at the old soldier, "…the company that you keep."
Reynolds turned and walked back to his desk. "Especially a certain man named, I believe, Doctor John Smith, scientific advisor to UNIT. You have been friends and coworkers for almost a decade and a half. Strange, however, that there have been three different identification pictures on file for the man." He lifted his eyes to Alastair. "But I digress, you did ask whether I was all that I seem to be. No, I am not. And you will not be yourself either in a little while."
"So you will tell me what you plan to do with me?" The Brigadier grimaced in impatience. He crossed his hands over his crotch. "And with the boy that I came with here…and the innocent scientists…"
"No one is completely innocent, Brigadier. But yes, I will tell you. You will become the same as me…and I hope that you will be able to keep that wonderfully effervescent personality that you have been exhibiting so wantonly. Only a very few duplicates maintain their base personality. The ability to do as told and yet think for themselves." Reynolds glanced over at Smith. "You see, Smith here, lost his ability to have even the most rudimentary sense of humor. And he hates humans. I don't hate humans; I just feel that the Homo Sapiens race is a dead end evolutionary track whose position on a luscious planet should be capitulated. The Supreme Dalek created me. I believe in their cause, as you will too. Although I do dislike having to go through the time intensive method of creating duplicates, it can't be helped in this instance. The Dalek's plan for this planet, for control is so very logical, it seems useless not to follow them. Take him to the copy room, Smith."
The Brigadier shrugged off the hand that was laid against his arm. He knew his best chance at freedom would be when he was less surrounded. But he wondered if he would ever be alone enough, before they ran him under a Xerox machine. He turned and walked away, between the two soldiers that had led him from the cell. As he neared the door, Reynolds called out: "Oh, and one more thing, Brigadier, although I do consider myself civilized, I do love killing. And I will kill you when you are done being copied. It just would not do to have two of you running around."
The Brigadier rolled his eyes. He cursed his diplomatic status and for the fifth time bemoaned leaving his gun back in London.
**
Turlough was examining the welded iron at the window. Although it had no glass, the bars were so close together that there was no hope of getting out. He whistled and reached up to pull his tie from around his neck. It was tossed to join his coat. Al frowned as the boy missed the pile and the article landed on him.
"Don't you have acid in that coat somewhere?" Turlough asked, testily. "It would make escaping so much easier."
"I work in a microbiology lab. I would more likely be able to infect you with something particularly nasty than have sulphuric acid," Penny launched back. "And I thought you said that you have been in several situations like this; haven't you thought of an escape kit yet?"
"Both of you, please…arguing is not helping the situation."
"It keeps me busy," Penny answered. "But you are right, it is not helping the situation." She shrugged her shoulders, making her white coat billow. "What can we do?"
Al glanced at his young assistant. "There are two ways into this room: the door and the window. There are two ways out."
Turlough looked around at the ceiling and the walls. "What about the vent system?"
With a vicious shake of his head, Al turned down the idea. "The rooms in this wing are compartmentalized. In case of a virus or chemical spill in one of the labs, the rest are not affected. If we were to crawl into the vent we would only end up…"
"Back where we began?" Turlough supplied, putting his chin on his hand.
"Yes, although the vent system goes to the roof…we would have about a fifteen to twenty foot vertical climb…" Al agreed.
Penny groaned. Then she had a sudden thought. "These duplicates, Turlough, do they still have all of the basal drives of a man?"
Turlough rubbed a tired hand through his hair and eyed his new acquaintance blearily. "As far as I know, yes…possibly. Most of the ones I met were less emotionally available than a rock, but I suppose they do have most of the basal drives of a man. Why?"
Penny smiled widely and reached up to unbutton her coat. "I think I can get the boys in here, if you two would be so good as to take care of them once the get through the door. Oh…and Al…" she said, "I don't want to hear anything about this later…understand?"
**
"Smith?"
The short man put down the clipboard he had been carrying. "Yes, sir?"
"That nice American government man that accompanied us here…"
"He's already been disposed of, sir. Duplicated and disposed." Smith answered, folding his hands in front of him.
"The duplication chamber? Has it been completely reset? I think the sooner we remove the original Brigadier, the sooner I can release the others from the holding room. We need to get those scientists back into the lab as quickly as possible. And the assassinations...an escalation. The invasion will happen in one week."
"But, sir…the vaccine…"
"Will not be ready…yes, Smith, we know…"
"Then…."
"The invasion will escalate in one week, Smith," Reynolds answered patiently. "Do not ask questions that require answers that you will not understand. Just check on the duplication process…and bring that boy, Turlough to come see me. He is known as a companion of the Doctor." He held up his hand to stem argument. "Run along, Smith."
**
The Doctor glanced at the interior door. Tegan had been gone a very long time, in his estimation. He lowered his head tiredly, rubbing at the back of his neck. Then, with a few decisive flicks of switches, he strode toward the corridor. He hoped against hope that she had not lost herself in the massive maze that was the TARDIS. After all, of all the companions that he had had over his long traveling history, Tegan seemed to be the one with an affinity for hiking the hallowed halls. He opened the door and stopped.
Tegan was standing in the corridor, clearly reaching out to open the door. They were equally startled into silence for a minute, before she went to press on the door behind him to enter the console room. The Doctor rubbed his chin as she walked by him. "Tegan…I have the distinct impression that you were not dressed that way when you left the console room."
She nodded and glanced down at her clothes. "I had hoped that wearing the kind of clothes that I had worn with you the first time around would help me with feeling more…in control."
He agreed; it was a good idea at that. "In times of stress, being surrounded by familiar things can help bring the mind back on an even keel."
"Forgot how large the clothes cupboard was here, Doc…" she brushed her hair over her shoulder. The outfit that she wore was colorful, but comfortable; a black pair of chino pants and a red, black and gold striped shirt. She had worn the same sort of bright clothes when she had traveled on board the TARDIS. This time, however, she wore sensible, black walking shoes. "Are we there, then?"
"Ah…yes…" the Doctor walked around her to the console. "Yes…Brazil…you know…" he said, as he watched the rotor stop its rise and fall. "I was to Brazil well before you were born…1947, actually. Beautiful country, lovely cities…people are, for the most part, friendly."
Tegan crossed her arms over her chest with a wry grin. As her hip leaned against the console, she asked: "And this laboratory? You landed near it?"
"Course I did, Tegan," the Doctor said, indignantly, reaching to open viewscreen. "The laboratory is right outside Rio de Janeiro. And we are…"
She rolled her eyes as she faced the screen. It was clear that the TARDIS was surrounded by undergrowth. "In the jungle…with civilization nowhere in sight."
The Doctor pointed at her. "Ye of little faith, Tegan. I am sure that we are very close." He jammed his hat on his head and spun on his heel. With a fast stride, he left the room. Tegan suddenly felt like laughing and followed him with a large smile on her face.
When she exited, the Doctor was swiping leaves from his face. He moved a little away and let a branch fall back on her absentmindedly. She grumbled as she pushed it out of the way. It was a good-natured grumble.
"Hmm…we appear to be some distance from the compound, Tegan. Feel up to a hike? Good. Lock the door will you…the TARDIS will still remember your handprint…the old girl must have landed us here…for a reason…she knew how important it was to get us on target. There must be danger ahead."
"When isn't there?" she asked.
The Doctor shot her a friendly glare. And then he was off, walking quickly away from the TARDIS. Tegan twisted around, pulled the door shut and pressed her thumb against the lock. There was a resounding click. And then, she started after the Doctor in a jog. She caught up to him quickly. "Doctor?"
"Hmmm, yes?" he answered absentmindedly. He stopped for a moment, gazing at the sky…what could be seen…and then took off at a fast walk in a slightly different direction.
"You said that you changed the thumbprints on the TARDIS when your friends left…"
"Yes."
"Then why hasn't mine…"
The Doctor pushed another branch out of the way and began to stride down a slight incline. "Keep up, Tegan. If I am right about direction and distance, we don't have time to waste."
The Brigadier eyed the table with trepidation. There were ankle restraints, arm restraints and a sturdy looking waist restraints. The part that caused worry was the several electrical patches that would be attached to his head and throat.
He motioned to the table. "I don't suppose I get a last phone call, do I?" Alastair opted for the humorous approach.
"You will be duplicated and then destroyed. Lie on the table."
The Brigadier walked around the center console and glanced at the instrumentation. It didn't look as complicated as the TARDIS.
"Lie on the table." The order was repeated with menace.
He lifted his chin defiantly and stared at his captor. He went to walk to the table, dodging neatly to the side, hitting one of his guards, grabbing the gun and began a headlong run to the door. His flight was cut short as three more guards that had been flanking the door stepped into his path. Four men, four guns. The Brigadier sighed. He knew that there was no way of escape at that moment. He would have to bide his time.
With a heavy sigh laced with a moan, he slid onto the table and stared at the ceiling. "Well, get on with it would you?"
**
08978090973242-9874234-a
Maintenance of the time corridor stabilized. Transmissions continue. Estimated five day growth of the eye of the vortex until Daleks can enter the vortex unharmed.
**
"Reroute power to the vortex and send what information is needed to the Earth Laboratory for vaccine production. When work is complete, the scientists will be transferred to the Battle Cruiser."
**
Penny leaned back against the wall, her legs crossed and her hair down. Her white coat was lying on the bed; her shirt was partially undone. "Hi boys," she said, in sultry tones as the door opened. The two guards glanced at one another.
"You seeing what I'm seeing?" one asked the other.
"Either that or you have very vivid dreams, Collins."
The two guards walked forward into the room. Turlough launched out of his corner first, his fisted hands landed heavily on the first guard. Al followed quickly, but missed the man's shoulder, landing a blow against the Collins' head. Both men crumpled to the ground. Penny smiled at their still forms.
"That was easier than I thought," she commented happily. "It seems that I have not lost my touch."
Al shook his head. All three pulled and pushed the prone bodies into the corner and walked out the door quietly. When it was pulled shut, they were pleased to hear a wonderful click of a locked door with them on the freedom side. Turlough waited only a moment before he was running away from the door with a hissed: "Come on…"
**
The Doctor stopped at the edge of the large clearing in the trees that contained the compound. They were still more than a half a mile away; he wanted to be cautious, however. There were only a few guards, but those guards did have guns. The underbrush was too thick where they were standing; there wouldn't be any patrols in this area. Tegan pushed down the leaves a little lower than the Doctor and gazed in as well.
"Is that it?" she whispered.
"Yes."
"Are you sure?" she asked.
The Doctor rolled his eyes and glanced at her. "When we find the duplicate in control, you can ask them."
She frowned and eased to the ground. The walk had invigorated her and now she was almost upset that they were just sitting there. The Doctor's coat was spread out on the ground and she crouched back down on it. He joined her second later. When he rested back against the tree trunk, she turned to him. "Why are we just sitting here?"
"You expect me to just walk in?" he asked. "It is obvious that Turlough and the Brigadier are already here. What good could I do them if I got captured as well? Hmmm?"
"A sight more than just sitting here, I dare say," she hissed back.
"Feeling better, are you?" he raised an eyebrow. "For a moment there, you sounded just like the Tegan of old."
"Well, we can't just leave them there…" she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.
"And I can't just barge in the front door. I have a plan, but it will require some stealth…preferable night. I have to think of you as well…"
"Doctor…" she complained. "Don't make me an excuse…"
"I'm not. Let me hear your plan."
Tegan opened her mouth, but then shook her head. "I don't have one."
"Then don't complain about my lack of a plan that satisfies you," he answered, somewhat condescendingly. He rose up on his knees and glanced at the clearing. "It will be nightfall in less than an half an hour. At that point, I will be going into the compound through that building there…" he pointed at the building nearest them. " If all goes according to plan, I should be back there with Turlough and the Brigadier before you can get into too much trouble."
"Your plans never go according to plan," she reminded him.
"You don't understand the practicality of being unpredictable, Tegan. If I don't know what my next move is, how can they?" He joked, and sat back down. Tegan continued to frown and glanced off to the side, rubbing her arms. He observed her for a few minutes in silence. There was less pain in the lines of her face now. She seemed more confident than she had been just two days previous when he had turned up on her doorstep.
"I didn't change your handprint, because I had a feeling I would see you again," he began lowly. "After all, you did come back once, Tegan. What was stopping you from coming back again?"
"If you said no…"
"I wouldn't have," he countered quickly. "If I remember correctly, I asked you not to go." He plowed into completely different conversation in order to get a completely honest answer out of her. "What was Timothy like?"
"What? Oh…tall…smart…"
"What did he look like?"
"Does it matter?"
"Of course it matters, Tegan…everything matters. Tell me…what was his coloring?"
Tegan rose on her knees and checked the guards below. "There are less down there now…"
"Probably the changing of the guard, so to speak. Was he ugly, Tegan, is that why you are avoiding the question?" he pressed.
"Of course not," she bit out in anger. "He was very handsome…tall…blond…" She stopped as what she said sunk into her conscious mind. She turned and glanced down at him. He was sitting quite still, his hands folded to look like he was praying. His hands were pressed against his lips. He was not looking at her.
"He looked like me, didn't he, Tegan?"
Tegan closed her eyes and sighed. In her mind's eye, she saw how her Tim had looked the day she had met him. He was tall, willowy, blond, but with longer hair than the Doctor. His eyes were more hazel than blue and his shoulders were less broad. Tim could have passed for a younger brother of the Time Lord, but there was no denying that there was a physical resemblance between the two.
"It's not what you think," Tegan began, holding her hand up. She stopped as the Doctor lifted his eyes and in the falling night, pierced her with a stare. "He could have been in your family, but he wasn't you. Why are you asking me about this, anyway?" she spat out, quietly.
"There is more going on in your mind, Tegan than just the reaction to trauma…and what you just told me is the final piece of the puzzle," he said quietly. When she opened her mouth to argue, he held up his hand. "Hear me out. I think I know the full reason behind your current mental state…but telling you this is not going to clear it up for you. But it will give us a starting point."
She sat back down, removed from him and stared at him in the growing dark.
"You were suffering from a mild form of PTSD when you left the TARDIS…it was nothing that would have hurt you in the long run, if it had been properly dealt with at the time. But you thought that removing yourself from the source was the best idea and granted, it might have been. However, on top of suffering from trauma, you left when you had been missing for several months, with no money, no place to live, and just the clothes on your back. That caused stress, which compounded what you were already feeling at the time. Additionally, a few months later, you started to regret your decision, and were probably just getting back on your proverbial feet…money, residence and job wise, am I correct so far?"
Tegan simply stared back at him.
"Well then…I know this much about you, Tegan: when you regret something that occurred from your own actions, you suffer from anger and guilt. In this case, I think it was more guilt than anger. That guilt and having no other recourse, you let it fester inside. About this time, you were starting to have trouble sleeping and were having problems with work. Correct?"
"This is scary…" Tegan breathed.
"Ah…I am dead on, I think. Fine. So, about this time…about six months after you left Turlough and I, you met Timothy. He looked like me. You said he was smart. You probably felt that it was more like me than he was."
"Stop." Tegan spoke harshly.
He nodded. "Let me finish. You went to him, and probably fell in love with him. I don't know, Tegan. At this point, I can't tell what you would have felt. But whether you were in love with him or not is not the point." He pointed a finger at the ground to drive home his point. "You gravitated to him because you thought that he was me…deep inside and you wanted your problems fixed. You thought I could help you. And I can. Me. Not Tim, and about the time that you married him, you realized that too. So you were angry with yourself and angry with him, deep inside because you could not get the help you needed. That was the straw that broke the camel's back, the drop that filled the bucket. You went into full blown mental trauma. You remained with Tim because you are loyal and stubborn and tried your best to be a good wife."
He stopped and leaned forward. "Am I right?"
Tegan leaned away from him, and bit her lip. She felt like running. How could he know so much? "Doctor…"
He nodded. "Just tell me yes or no."
"Yes…" she answered, turning away from him. "I hate that you know me that well."
"Someone has to," he said, quietly. "You said I was your responsibility, Tegan. You are as much mine as I was yours. We are friends, you know. And as one of my companions told me a long time ago…that is what friends do: look out for each other. Now that I have an idea, we can trace back through your mind and figure out a way to help you. At least I know what to do…" he got up on his knees to stare out at the trees. "You see, the problem with you humans is that your thought processes, your actions and your emotions cannot be separated. It makes a bit more troublesome to solve problems. It is true that traveling with me was not the easiest on your mind…but it has compounded since you left. I think maybe two or three weeks of intense intervention we should be able to get beyond this. I can help you with most of it, but in reality this is all going to have to be your doing. We just have to iron out your emotions along the way."
"That's it make it sound like you are doing the laundry," she stated sarcastically.
He gave her a brilliant smile. "Right. So now…are you ready to go into the compound?"
"After that you want me to come with you in there?"
"Absolutely. I have one problem ready to be tackled and the other…our friends…now need our attention. And we should get going."
Tegan sighed as the Doctor stood up and walked away, toward the compound, the nearest building and through the trees. She stood and followed. She did feel lighter, stronger. A little, a blessed little. In reality she didn't hate that he knew her that well; she was glad. He was right…someone had to know her like that. He held back the branches for her and she scrambled under them. It was well after they breached the perimeter that they remembered the Doctor's coat, lying forgotten in the underbrush.
**
Turlough caught Penny as she jumped from the window to the ground. Al was waiting his turn to jump to outside. Turlough smiled, and let the girl down. She ran to the corner of the building and looked around. As Al and Turlough came up along side her, she whispered: "Turlough, don't you want to save your friend?"
"Who?" he asked.
"The Brigadier," Penny pressed.
"Oh…I can do a better job with more firepower…"
"Guns?"
"No, the Doctor."
Penny grinned. "I hope this man is as good as you say." She pressed back against building and grabbed Turlough by the scruff of his neck. He groaned as he hit the wall. "Quiet…someone is coming!"
**
The Brigadier rose from the table unsteadily: it felt like someone had run a steamroller through his brain. But it was not his mental state that sent him stumbling back against the table for support. It was the fact that he was facing himself.