CHAPTER 9

WRECKAGE

The Doctor's sense of adventure was sorely tested during his journey from UNIT HQ in London to the Kennedy Space Center in Florida. He and his TARDIS were loaded onto a large, noisy, and distinctly smelly cargo plane. He had been given a pair of olive drab coveralls that he was told were to protect his civilian clothes. From the smirks he received while this was being explained, he suspected it was not necessarily the whole truth.

He took advantage of the time in flight to scan for any new temporal readings in the TARDIS, going on to run all the data supplied by UNIT through the computer. The final analysis was not what he expected and he read it with great interest, being all the more anxious to examine the downed spaceship.

The Doctor arrived in Florida in what looked like the middle of the night. As he stepped out onto the tarmac, he looked up into the clear night sky and wondered abstractly what time it was locally. His escort Captain Fitzpatrick, a member of UNIT's U.S. branch, met him as he disembarked and introduced herself.

"Would you happen to know if arrangements have been made to have my equipment sent over to the hangar at the Space Center?" the Doctor asked airily.

"Yes, sir," the Captain replied crisply. "It's being loaded up now and…." Her voice trailed off as she turned toward the cargo plane and saw the TARDIS being brought down the ramp on a forklift. "That's your equipment?"

"Merely its container. Not likely to get lost looking like that, is it?" the Time Lord pointed out logically. He watched like a proud parent as the police box was loaded onto a flatbed truck and strapped down for its short journey to Cape Canaveral.

Having been unable to think of a suitable response, the Captain waited until the Doctor was satisfied his equipment was properly loaded before leading the way to the car that would to take them to the hangar where the wreckage was being housed.

l'X'el and K'ell'k had been watching the Doctor's progress on the tarmac when he abruptly vanished, the globe fogging over. Looking up, K'ell'k could see his brother seemed as bewildered as he was, l'X'el's hands stabbing at the controls. The fact that the Doctor was shielded from their view while in his TARDIS had not surprised them, but this unexpected disappearance had been a shock.

"The Doctor's raised a mental barrier," l'X'el announced finally.

"He knows! Now he won't come!" K'ell'k almost shouted.

"Quiet!" his brother snapped, looking around as though expecting every security agent in the building to suddenly appear out of the woodwork, momentarily forgetting in his panic that the manipulator was protecting them from outside detection. Even if someone were to enter the room, it would appear completely empty.

K'ell'k recoiled. "Sorry," he said meekly.

"From time to time a Time Lord reinforces his mental defenses, usually during meditation," l'X'el informed knowingly. "Obviously the Doctor is taking advantage of his time in transit to clear his thoughts."

K'ell'k turned nervously back to the globe, hoping this were the case and not a miscalculation on his brother's part. "I hope you're right, Lix."

l'X'el scowled at him. "For the sake of argument, let's say I am." His fingers continued to manipulate the computer. "I'll just jump ahead a few hours to his companion's location. We'll be able to pick him up there."

After passing though more security checks than he thought possible, the Doctor was finally standing outside the hangar containing the alien vessel. He had shed the coveralls somewhere along the way and was pulling off his long coat, which he folded neatly and left in the car before following his escort into the building.

What had once been the proud ship SILVER TRIUMPH was now thousands of twisted chunks of metal and plastic, the largest and only relatively intact section in the center of the hangar, floodlights illuminating it from all angles. When Mel had seen it, the wreckage was partially buried in mud and downed trees. The sight that met the Doctor's eyes was that of a much larger craft, yet he knew from the literally thousands of others he had seen during his long lifetime that this was only a small portion of what had once been a much larger vessel. Various pieces of debris recovered from the crash site were spread out on an enormous grid on the floor, other smaller items having been placed in piles or laid out on tables.

The Doctor ignored the stares of those present as he approached the ship, allowing Captain Fitzpatrick to deflect any objections they might have to his presence. He circled the wreck very slowly, scrutinizing the scorch marks from its fiery journey through the atmosphere and the warping he could only deduce had been caused by the temporal distortion that he and Mel had followed. Upon completing his circuit, the Time Lord climbed inside. The opening in the wall section that had been blown away was covered with an enormous sheet of plastic. He pushed the sheet aside and entered, finding the interior less of a jumble than when his companion had been there. Most of the loose items had been removed, logged, and were now among the items on the floor of the hangar.

The Doctor noticed the wires hanging from the wall that had previously been connected into the monitor next to the passenger seat. Both monitor and seat were gone, but he wondered if the ship's computer might still be intact as it was housed beneath the passenger cabin. Getting down on his hands and knees, the Time Lord examined the floor panels and found himself wishing for what was probably the hundredth time that he still had his sonic screwdriver. He found a panel loose enough to pry up, which he did with the help of a metal bar similar to the one that had pinned Jason to his seat. Below the deck, the Doctor found the ship's computer, now a melted mass of metal and plastic.

"Blast," he muttered angrily. "Well, you're not going to tell me anything useful, are you?"

"You okay in there, Doctor?" came Fitzpatrick's voice through the doorway.

"Yes, yes, quite alright," he called back. He struggled to replace the heavy floor panel, one corner dipping into the opening. As he pulled it free, it thumped onto the deck, but did not strike flat. Something seemed to be affixed to the underside. The Doctor turned it over, finding a glob of circuitry inside what was left of a semi-melted container. "Hello. Now what are you doing in there?" he muttered, pulling the container free. Hearing approaching footsteps, he slipped the object into his pocket to examine later.

Captain Fitzpatrick lifted the sheet and appeared on the threshold, stopping dead when she saw the Time Lord on the floor, the open panel beside him. "Doctor, what…?"

"I seem to've located the ship's computer," he informed matter of factly. "Not going to be much help, I'm afraid. It's in worse shape than this room. Must've taken all the heat of re-entry —or in the case of this ship—entry. A considerable amount of the force from the landing too, by the look of it." Realizing what he had just said, he gave the plating in his hand a second look. It was significantly thicker than was usual for so small a ship and he stored this away in his mind, wondering where it fit among the other pieces of the puzzle he had yet to put together.

Getting to his feet, the Doctor crossed to the perplexed Captain. "I think I've seen all I need to for the time being. Now—the survivor."

Fitzpatrick nodded, leading the way out. "Your flight doesn't leave for about three hours, Doctor," she informed as they made their way out of the hangar. "Can I offer you something to eat? Breakfast, lunch, dinner, maybe? I don't know what time zone you're on."

The Doctor gave her a wry smile. "To be quite honest, Captain, I don't know myself half the time. But since that is very obviously the sun coming up over there, some very strong coffee and an authentic Southern breakfast would be very welcome. Pancakes, bacon, eggs, hush-puppies, grits, biscuits and gravy—"

The Captain could not help but laugh at the growing menu. "I never would've imagined you as a grits man, Doctor. I had you pegged as more a coffee and doughnuts type."

The Time Lord gave her an amused sideways glance, patting his stomach. "I've a friend who could tell you otherwise," he grinned.