Chapter 14

Something In The Water?

Clinical Investigation Department.

Torchwood Tower.

The Torchwood Clinical Investigation Department was comprised of the Clinical Chemistry Laboratory, and the Histopathology Laboratory. Together they performed an array of tests on organic samples sent to them. The department accepted samples from the Torchwood Hospital Wing, from subjects involved in Torchwood investigations, and from external sources such as other hospitals and police laboratories.

In the Clinical Chemistry Laboratory, the blood analyzer was running a battery of tests on the samples received from the inhabitants of Dunwich. The whole process was automated, and the results recorded on a computer. The results were then checked by a clinical scientist for any abnormalities. Abnormal values that were not clinically significant were displayed as amber, and dangerous values were shown in red.

Helen Atkins was the clinical scientist on duty, and she was bringing up each patient's file and checking if there were any results that needed to be flagged to a clinician for urgent treatment. The few she had checked so far had low glucose levels, but that was to be expected as the patients had fasted for 36 hours. The levels would have been even lower if they hadn't been given hot, sugary drinks and biscuits.

The next file she looked at was a male patient in his fifties, and he had a raised prostate specific antigen, an indicator used to detect prostate cancer. She ticked the "urgent referral" box on the screen, which would alert his General Practitioner, Doctor Willers, and alert the outpatients department of Trayne Hospital.

The next patient record caught her attention. It was a thirteen year old girl, and she checked the name. Mary Histon. She had the human chorionic gonadotrophin hormone present in her blood sample. To put it bluntly, she was pregnant.

'Poor thing,' Helen said to herself. She hoped that her boyfriend would be mature enough to do the right thing by her, and that their parents were understanding and supportive. She ticked the box to notify Doctor Willers ,as he would have to coordinate her antenatal care.

In another file, the elderly patient had abnormal renal function, but when Helen accessed the patient record, she saw that the patient was known to have chronic kidney disease and was being treated for it. A couple of patients had low heamoglobin and she ticked the "notify GP" box again, to notify Doctor Willers to follow up and treat.

'Ooh, what are the chances?' Helen said as she found another sample with human chorionic gonadotrophin hormone present. She checked the name. Ferrelyn Zellaby. It was a brilliant name, and she was twenty one. Again, she ticked the "notify GP" box.

When the third human chorionic gonadotrophin hormone turned up, she jokingly thought it must be something in the water. Maybe the village had experienced a power cut one evening and there wasn't much to do in the village. That sample though was from a member of staff at the Grange. She was one of the scientists, Doctor Margaret Haxby, thirty four years old.

The fourth pregnant patient had Helen heading for her supervisor's office. 'Rick, have you got a minute?'

Richard Mortimer was the lead clinical scientist with a doctorate in biochemistry. Although he was in his late forties, he had a youthful appearance, with a full head of wavy brown hair, and a body toned by training for, and competing in triathlons.

'Sure Helen. What can I do for you?'

'It's these samples from Dunwich . . .'

'Oh. Have you found something Special Operations can act on?' he asked hopefully.

'Not exactly, no. It's just that four of the female patients I've checked so far are pregnant.'

'Four?' Rick asked with a frown. 'That's a bit of a coincidence.'

'Yeah, and there's more. One of the patients is only thirteen,' she explained.

He gave her a lopsided smile. 'Well, I've heard what they say about these country folk and their ways.'

'Not funny Rick,' Helen scolded. 'She's just a child.'

'Sorry. You're right. That was inappropriate. But this can't be connected to the incident at Dunwich, it takes at least six days for the hCG hormone to show up after fertilization.'

'Yes, I know. But we don't know what went on in that day and a half when the village was asleep, do we,' she pointed out.

'Good point.' He stood from behind his desk, and Helen led the way to the computer where she had been working.

'Okay. Filter the results for females of childbearing age,' he instructed.

Helen ticked the "female box" on the menu screen, and typed in the age ranges she wanted to look at. Fifty three patient files came up on the screen.

Rick whistled. 'Fifty three. I thought it was supposed to be a small village.'

'It is,' Helen replied. 'You're probably thinking of a hamlet.'

'Oh, right,' he said, standing corrected. 'Well, let's make a start. Who's first?'

Helen selected the first file. 'Elizabeth Brant, misses.' She scrolled down the file. 'Pregnant.' She ticked the "notify GP" box.

She continued down the list. 'Jane Crankhart, recently widowed . . . Pregnant, and she's fifty one. Rachel Daniels, she's the community nurse . . . and she's also pregnant.'

Rick straightened up. 'Keep going through the list. I've got to make a phone call.'

He went through to his office and picked up the phone. He dialled hospital wing and waited for the pick up.

[Hospital Reception. Joe speaking,'] a pleasant young woman's voice announced.

'It's Rick Mortimer in Clinical Chemistry. Can you tell me which doctor is in charge this morning?'

['Just a moment please . . . It's Doctor Marla Jones. Would you like me to page her?'] Joe asked.

'Yes please. I'll hold.' A very good rendition of "Spring" by Vivaldi played whilst the receptionist paged Marla Jones.

Doctor Marla Jones was on duty in the outpatients clinic of the Hospital Wing, seeing members of staff who had a variety of conditions that either needed treatment, or were being followed up after treatment. She had started at Torchwood as a house officer when she had qualified, having been rescued from an alien abduction by John and Rose Smith. She was now a specialist registrar in emergency medicine and xeno-physiology.

She was examining a patient's hands. 'That rash has cleared up nicely.'

'Yeah, that cream was brilliant,' the young man from Animal Management told her.

'Good. Next time, remember to use protective gloves before you try to pick up a Kimbaran egg,' she advised.

'Will do Doc. I've learnt my lesson.' As a new recruit to the department which recovered alien creatures, he still had a lot to learn.

Marla's pager beeped for her attention, and she looked at the number. 'Okay. That should be the end of it, but if the rash does come back, just apply some of the cream. If you'll excuse me, I have to answer this page.'

The patient nodded and left as she picked up the phone and dialled the number.

['Clinical Chemistry. Rick speaking.']

'It's Marla Jones, you paged me.'

['Hi Marla. Thanks for getting back to me so quick. Have you got a minute to come up to the lab. We've got a bit of an incident with some blood samples.']

'What kind of incident?' Marla asked.

['I think we might have an actual case of xenogenesis,'] Rick said, with a hint of awe in his voice.

'Really? Where's the patient?'

['It's not patienT, it's patientS,'] he said, emphasising the last letters. ['Eight confirmed, and possibly fifty three.']

'Fifty three! I'll be right up.' she went to find one of the junior registrars to cover her clinic.

Ten minutes after the phone call, Marla was in the Clinical Chemistry lab, looking at the results on the screen. 'Fifty one confirmed pregnancies, all from the same village?'

'That's right,' Helen confirmed. 'Ages ranging from thirteen to fifty six. Two women have had hysterectomies, so are unable to carry embryos.'

'Right. Is anyone outside of the institute aware of this?' Marla asked. If the press got hold of this, these women could be in danger from all sorts of conspiracy theorists.

'No,' Rick answered. 'Although we have flagged the results to be sent to the village doctor.'

'The doctor's wife is one of the pregnancies,' Helen added.

Marla bit her bottom lip. 'This is way out of my league. I'm just a doctor. This is going to need a multidisciplinary approach. We'd best wait for our scientific advisor to get back. Meanwhile, hold off sending the results and I'll go and have a word with the Director.'

Jack Harkness's office was on the top floor of One, Canada Square, and enjoyed magnificent views over the river Thames, the O2 Arena, London City Airport, and the east of London. He wasn't looking at the view though, he was reading through the summary of the months activity in preparation for producing the monthly Parliamentary report for the president.

He caught some movement in the corner of his eye as someone approached his glass fronted office. He looked over to see the beautiful dark face of Marla Jones. She was wearing a white clinician's coat over her purple blouse and beige skirt, and was carrying a manilla folder. Before she could knock on the glass door, he waved her to enter and stood up. He came from behind the desk and gave her a hug.

'Hi Martha. How are you? I don't see enough of you these days,' he said as he kissed her cheek.

Just like John and Rose, Jack called her Martha, and she'd often thought it might be easier to change her name by deed poll. 'Hi Jack. Well, we all know how busy you are, and I wouldn't normally disturb you.' She glanced at the papers on his desk. 'But something's come up and I need your advice.'

'No problem. Have a seat. Do you want some coffee?'

'No, I'm good thanks.' She sat on the comfy sofa against the wall which Jack had indicated and he joined her.

'So what can I do for you?'

'It's the Dunwich incident. We've got the results of the blood test, and they don't look good,' she began. 'Fifty one of the females in the village are showing they have the human chorionic gonadotrophin hormone in their bloodstreams. It's a hormone which is produced by the placenta after the implantation of an embryo.'

'They're pregnant?' Jack asked. 'The whole village?'

'Near enough. I don't need to tell you what'll happen when this gets out.' She didn't say if this gets out, because how can you hide fifty one pregnancies?

'No. No, you were right to bring it to me. The question is, what do I do with it?' Jack asked himself. 'I went to the memorial service on Sunday, and they're only just getting over the deaths of eleven of their friends and relatives. This might tip them over the edge.'

'I thought it might be best to wait for John to get back. He may have seen something like this before,' Martha suggested.

'Yes. You're probably right. They'll be back in a few days. Only the Doc's not known for his tact and diplomacy. I'd better go back there with Alice and have a quiet word with Doctor Willers and the Reverend Leebody,' Jack said, referring to Alice Dimaggio, the head of the Clinical Psychology.

'Willers and Leebody?' Martha queried. She opened the folder on her lap and looked at the list inside. 'Millicent Willers and Dora Leebody, the doctor and the reverend's wives . . . They're pregnant.'

'Oh shit!'

The village surgery in Dunwich looked like an ordinary house, except for the sign hanging on a post in the front garden saying "G.P Surgery". Jack held his arm out for Alice to go first, and then followed her through the front door into the small waiting room, which had several chairs arranged in rows. There was a wire rack on one wall which held a number of information leaflets, and a notice board on another with posters pinned to it. Jack briefly scanned the posters with his eyes. "This winter it'll be no fun if you get FLU", "Dealing with CANCER", "Winter Awareness", and the one that really stood out for him, "Are you a young mum or mum to be?".

'You're all about to find out,' Jack muttered to himself.

'Can I help you?' a woman asked through a hatch in the wall. 'Only the morning clinic has finished now.'

Jack approached the hatch, put down the briefcase he was carrying, and took out his Torchwood ID. 'Captain Jack Harkness and Doctor Alice Dimaggio. Doctor Willers is expecting us,' he said with his perfect smile.

His charm seemed to have no effect. This was a GP receptionist, renowned the world over for being impervious to any guile or methods of persuasion. She looked in the diary which was on the desk below the hatch.

'Ah, yes. Have a seat please and I'll let him know you're here.'

Jack tried again with his winning smile. 'Thank you.' Still no effect.

No sooner had they sat on one of the chairs, when a door leading to the rear of the house opened and Doctor Willers entered.

'Captain Harkness? I'm Charles Willers,' he said, holding out his hand. 'Did I see you at the service on Sunday? I seem to remember the uniform.'

Jack shook his hand. 'The name's Jack, and this is Alice. Yes, you're right. I sat at the back of the church. Didn't want to intrude on your grief.'

'That was very thoughtful. Please, come through to the back.' Charles led the way down a short hallway, past an open door which they could see was the consulting room, and into a lounge with comfortable chairs. 'Have a seat both of you. Would you like a cup of tea? Bernie has got the kettle on. Although, from your accent Jack, I'm guessing coffee would be your favoured brew.'

Jack laughed politely as he sat down. 'Coffee would be nice, thank you. White with one sugar please.'

'Tea with one sugar please,' Alice said.

'Good. Hubert should be along shortly. I'll just go and organise the refreshments.'

Jack opened the briefcase and took out the printouts of the blood results for the villagers. He looked at the list of names on the front. Bernie? That would be Bernice Ogle, his receptionist and expectant unmarried mother. Hubert was the Reverend Leebody. His blood results were all normal.

They heard voices in the hallway, and Charles and Hubert entered with a tray of mugs. Jack and Alice stood and shook the reverend's hand. 'Good to see you again Captain, and so soon. And you must be Doctor Dimaggio.'

'It's Jack, and Alice. And the blood results have turned something up that we wanted to discuss with you both face to face rather than over the phone.'

They all sat down, and Charles had a resigned look on his face. Being a doctor, he'd had to give patients bad news in the past, and knew you didn't do it over the phone. 'How bad is it?'

'It's not life threatening,' Alice said as Jack picked up the printouts and handed them to Charles. 'But it is life changing.'

They waited for Charles to examine some of the results. They'd put the women's results at the top of the pile. He saw Charles's face frown as he started to leaf through the sheets, looking for a single result. He stopped and looked up at Jack and Alice.

'There's no doubt? The samples weren't contaminated or compromised?' Charles asked, clutching at straws.

'I'm afraid not,' Jack told him.

'What is it Charles?' Hubert asked. 'You've gone as white as a sheet.'

'Er . . . Well, it appears that all the women of childbearing age, who were affected by The Narcolepsy . . . are pregnant,' Charles said, struggling to believe what he had just said.

Hubert looked stunned. 'What? All of them . . ? Even Dora?'

Charles nodded. 'And Milly. I don't know about you, but I could do with something a little stronger than tea.' He stood up, went to the sideboard and opened a bottle of whisky. 'Anyone else?'

Jack and Alice declined. 'I'll join you,' Hubert said, and they both took a large gulp of the amber fluid.

'Now, there is the chance that some of these pregnancies are naturally conceived of course, but until we can get tissue samples and compare the DNA, we won't know,' Jack explained.

'I'm a trained counsellor,' Alice told them. 'I have a team that can come and support your patients as you break the news.' She turned to the vicar. 'Hubert, who, out of all the women on that list do you think will take the news the best?'

Hubert ran his eyes down the list of names. 'Well, obviously my wife, when she has gotten over the shock. She knows her duty as the vicars wife, and she is well respected because of that.'

'And Angela Zellaby,' Charles suggested. 'Wife of a Justice of the Peace. She is held in high esteem.'

Hubert nodded. 'Although hers may be one of the naturally conceived pregnancies.'

'At the moment, that won't matter,' Alice told them. 'They will all be pregnant together, regardless.'

'I see your point,' Charles said. 'Well, I supposed we'd better start spreading the news.'

'I would ask you to hold off for the moment,' Alice advised. 'I would like our scientific advisor to review all the data first, and I can return with my team and set up a clinic somewhere in the village.'

'We could use the village hall,' Hubert suggested.

'Yes. Good idea,' Charles agreed. 'Tell me Alice, do you think it would be all right if we told our wives?'

Alice smiled and reached over to hold his hand. 'Of course Charles. That's why I'm here. We wanted to give you and Hubert the heads up first, because you have the responsibility for the villagers physical and spiritual well being. I'll help your wives come to terms with the news, and impress on them the need for secrecy for now.'

'Thank you my dear,' Charles said. 'Hubert can we do this at the vicarage? I think it may be a better environment for our wives to receive the news.'

Hubert nodded. 'Of course.'