Chapter 16

Revelations

As Delores the Delorean reversed into the parking space, John's Smartphone bleeped in his pocket to tell him he had a message. He took it out of his blue, pinstriped jacket and activated the display.

"Please call at reception. Visitor with information about Dunwich case," he read.

'Hmm. Interesting,' he said to himself. ['I'll be along later for my cuppa Love. There's someone in reception to see me,'] he thought to his wife.

['Okay Love. Don't be too long, Jack wants to see us in his office. He's got an update on Dunwich,'] Rose thought back.

['Blimey. It's all happening today. This visitor has information on Dunwich as well.']

He made his way up to Reception, and approached the desk. 'Hi Sarah. Is there someone to see me?'

'Morning John. Yes, it's the lady over there. Doctor Haxby.'

John looked over to where she was pointing, and saw Margaret stand up. He walked over to meet her, holding out his hand. 'Hello Margaret. I didn't expect to see you here.'

'I didn't expect to ever come here John. However, there has been . . . a development,' she said mysteriously.

'A development?'

'Yes. Something that I hope you can help me with. Is there somewhere private we could speak? It's rather personal.'

John's interest was piqued. 'Er, yes. Of course. Come up to my lab in the Research Department.'

The Research Department on the eighth floor, was a mishmash of a number of different scientific disciplines, all of whom had their own departments on other floors in the Tower. It was here that the original dimension cannon was developed which allowed Rose to get back to the Doctor all those years ago.

The bank of eight elevators were roughly in the centre of the building, along with stairwells, toilets, heating, air conditioning, and other services. After that, different floors were divided up depending on the needs of the different departments. The eighth floor was an open plan design, only partially divided by half walls and glass partitions.

The North-West corner of the floor space was allocated to physics and astrophysics, divided by glass walls. The North-East corner to chemistry, and the South-East to biochemistry and earth sciences. Finally, electronics, bioengineering and microengineering was allocated to the South-West corner. John's laboratory / office / workshop, was near the lifts in the centre, overseeing the whole department and bringing all the disciplines together.

Margaret looked around the room in awe at all the high tech equipment on the workbenches and floors. John led her to the door of his laboratory, and she couldn't help noticing the serving hatch in the wall. John noticed her questioning look.

'I had to lock myself in once,' he told her. 'Er, long story. Would you like a tea or coffee?'

'No thank you. I had one in reception,' she replied as he held the door open for her to go inside.

'Have a seat,' John said as he closed the door and indicated one of the chairs.

'Thank you,' she said as she looked around at the shelves and worktops filled with odds and sods, bits and bobs, and all manner of alien looking objects.

'So, Margaret. You said there's been a development connected to the Dunwich incident,' John reiterated.

'Well, yes. I think so. There's no other explanation for it.'

'Explanation for what?'

'I'm pregnant!' she told him suddenly.

'Oh. Right. Er, congratulations,' John said with a frown. 'But, er . . . we've only met once . . . briefly. Can I ask . . . why are you telling me?' Surely she wasn't accusing him of being the father . . . Was she?

'I'm telling you, because I can't be pregnant,' Margaret said with a conviction that denied any argument.

"Ah. She's in denial," John thought to himself. 'Well. I can understand how you might think it will interfere with your career, but . . .'

'No Doctor Smith. You don't understand. It is impossible for me to be pregnant,' she said forcefully. 'My partner . . .'

Oh. Now it made sense. She was pregnant and her partner had either had a vasectomy, or was impotent.

'Well you never know,' John interrupted as she paused. 'He may have just had a low sperm count. Or maybe . . .'

'My partner is also pregnant,' Margaret told him which stopped him dead in his tracks.

There was a long pause. 'Oh!'

'Her name's Diana. She's a research assistant at The Grange,' she explained. 'She decided to do her own blood test using the equipment at The Grange . . .'

'And she found out she was pregnant?'

'Yes. And that made me suspicious, so I asked her to test my blood as well'

And then, that memory from his childhood which had been eluding him, started to creep out of the dark recesses of his mind.

'Oh wait a minute. No, it couldn't be . . . Yes . . . No!'

In the Conference Room, Jack Harkness chaired a hastily arranged meeting. 'Okay everyone, thank you for attending at short notice.'

'What's it all about?' Andy McNab, head of Special Operations asked.

'The Dunwich incident,' Jack explained. 'I was going to brief John and Rose on a development which occurred last week, but events have overtaken us so I've decided to call this meeting to brief you all. I ask that anything discussed in this room, stays in the room until we have a plan of action.'

'Yes'. 'Of course', people said around the table.

'Good. Before we get started, I need to introduce Doctor Margaret Haxby. She works at the UNIT research facility at The Grange in Dunwich, and was there when the incident happened.'

There was a chorus of greetings from the Torchwood staff.

'Last week, the Clinical Chemistry lab found that fifty one females in Dunwich were pregnant,' Jack started. There were gasps and mutterings from the assembled group of people. 'Exactly. You can see why we want to keep it quiet for now.'

'But you already knew, Margaret,' Alice queried.

'Yes. My partner Diana found out first, when she did her own blood test at The Grange. She wondered if the induced coma had caused any changes in her blood chemistry.'

'Are we talking about a weird kind of date rape here?' Chrissie Anderson, the Senior Technical Operations Officer asked.

'Wellll. Sort of,' John said pulling his ear.

Rose had picked up on his train of thought. 'Although it wouldn't be sexual intercourse, because the chances of every woman in the village ovulatin' at the same time would be astronomical.'

'Exactly,' John agreed. 'This would be embryo implantation. Xenogenesis.'

'What have the women been impregnated with?' Andy asked. 'What kind of threat level are we looking at here?'

'Andy?' Alice said, and nodded at Margaret. One of the impregnated women was in the room.

'Sorry Margaret, but it's my job to assess the situation and formulate a response for the worst case scenario,' Andy explained.

'No, that's all right,' Margaret said. 'Honestly. Someone or something is forcing me to be a surrogate . . . like I'm some kind of living incubator.'

'And how does that make you feel?' Alice asked.

'Angry, disgusted, violated. It's like I've got a parasite inside me,' Margaret replied.

'You have,' John said. 'The beings that did this to you must be obligate brood parasites, like a cuckoo.'

'Do you know who they are then?' Jack asked.

John shook his head. 'I've heard a story about them. Since the incident at Dunwich, something was niggling at the back of my mind, something from my childhood. It was only when Margaret confirmed that all the women were pregnant that it came flooding back.'

John started to tell his story. 'When we were in kindergarten on Gallifrey . . .'

'Gallifrey?' Margaret asked with a frown.

'That's the planet he comes from,' Rose tried to explain. 'Well, old him anyway.' She saw Margaret's puzzled expression. 'It's complicated.'

'As I was saying,' John continued. 'When we were in kindergarten on Gallifrey, at the end of term in our literacy class, a Verron Soothsayer would visit and tell us stories of their past, er . . . "soothsayings". One of those stories was about a race of incubi who travelled the stars, visiting small communities on worlds and impregnating the females.'

'That's one hell of a story to tell young kids,' Andy said.

'So is Little Red Riding Hood and the Lupine Wavelength Heamovariform,' John retorted.

'Fair point,' Andy conceded.

'What happens when the children are born?' Alice asked.

'Well, from what I can remember of the story, the children had the ability to compel their parents to do their bidding in the small community. They had a collective consciousness, so there were no individual personalities. They were all parts of a whole. When they reached adulthood, they dominated the populations of the world and enslaved them.'

'Oh that's clever,' Andy said. 'Invasion by stealth.'

'Like the siege of Troy,' Jack added.

'Except they use the maternal instincts of these "Trojan Mothers" to protect and nurture the invaders,' Alice said.

'So how do we stop them?' Chrissie asked, fearing the worst.

'Well I'm having a termination, as is Diana,' Margaret said coldly.

'That seems a bit extreme,' Rose said.

'But perfectly legal,' Doctor Marla Jones stated.

'The slaughter of the innocents,' Alice said, thinking out loud.

'Had I been in a heterosexual relationship, and there was a possibility that it could be mine, then I might think differently. Unlike some of the women in Dunwich, I know this is a parasite

that has been put inside me,' Margaret explained.

Marla had an idea. 'John, if we did the termination here, in the Torchwood Hospital, we could study the parasite when we've removed it.'

John gave her an annoyed look. 'And does the baby alien have a say in this?' he asked, playing the Devil's advocate.

He was remembering the Racnoss offspring under the Thames in the old universe, and how he'd had to drown them to save the world. This situation though, was more akin to the Adipose babies who were grown from the excess fat of people who voluntarily took the slimming tablets. Okay, those people were duped into growing the babies, and many of them would have died without his intervention, but on the positive side, they did lose weight.

'I didn't,' Margaret reminded him.

'It didn't either,' John said. 'The universe has dealt it this hand where it has to gestate in a borrowed womb.'

'Well it's not borrowing mine,' Margaret said.

'The ethics of abortion are beyond the scope of this meeting,' Jack said, bringing the meeting back on track.

Rose was thinking about something else John had mentioned. 'But John, you said that we'd be enslaved. Wouldn't that mean the end of human civilisation? What would have happened on Satellite Five if Bad Wolf hadn't gotten rid of the Daleks? Would ninety six billion people have been wiped out?'

'But we don't even know if these are the same aliens. How can we make the decision to wipe them out, based on an eight hundred year old, half remembered fairytale from my childhood?'

'Eight hundred years?' Margaret asked. Nothing these people said made any sense.

'It's complicated,' John, Rose and Jack said together.

'Have we forgotten the five million Cybermen that were held in those factories whilst the politicians argued that we should help them?' Andy reminded them. 'How many people died when they escaped?'

Chrissie had been on the dimension button project when the Cybermen had escaped from "Pete's World". 'He's got a point. Can we afford to wait and let them develop their powers?'

'This is the "Kill Baby Hitler" dilemma,' Alice informed them. 'If you travelled back in time, could you justify killing Hitler as a baby to save millions of lives in the future?'

John was only too familiar with this dilemma. 'And could you justify NOT saving millions of lives if you had the opportunity?'

'Interesting as this dilemma is,' Margaret started. 'I see the incident at Dunwich as an assault on my person. And just as I would go to a doctor to get rid of a tapeworm, I consent to Doctor Jones removing this parasite from my body.'

John could see both sides of the argument, and it didn't sit well with him. Rose could feel the conflict of conscience within him and tried to inspire him to find a brilliant solution like he normally did.

'What about the Shadow Proclamation? Have they come up with anything yet?' she asked.

'The Scrutationary Archivist investigating our complaint has found similar incidents to Dunwich in their archives, but they are all unsolved cold . . . cases . . .' His voice trailed off as a realisation hit him. 'Oh my stupid brain!' he said slapping his forehead with the palm of his hand. 'Of course they're cold cases. If the population is being controlled, who's going to be interested in the results of an investigation?'

'Oh that is brilliant!' Rose exclaimed. 'I never thought of that.'

Alice could see where John's idea was leading. 'And if a population massacred the innocents . . .'

'No one is going to want to report it,' Jack finished for her.

'I've got to go to the Shadow Proclamation,' John told Jack.

'No,' Rose corrected him. 'We've got to go.'

The corridors in the asteroids of the Shadow Proclamation, echoed to the grinding, wheezing of the TARDIS engines as it materialised into existence. The right hand door opened inwards and John stepped out, followed by Rose, who had changed into her Special Operations black combat fatigues.

The Judoon guard barked at them. 'Sco - bo - tro - no - flo - jo.' [This - arrival - is - not - authorised,] the TARDIS translated.

'Yes - we - know,' John barked in reply. 'Our - planet - is - being - invaded. I - need - to - speak - with - the - Shadow - Architect.'

'Hmph - This - is - most - irregular. Follow - me,' the Judoon said.

'Thank - you.'

In the large, blue lit reception chamber, the white haired, red eyed Shadow Architect listened as John and Rose explained what had occured in the village of Dunwich.

'I saw the initial report from your institute on the incident,' she told them. 'The Scrutationary Archivist investigating the complaint found a number of documented reports over the millennia, all cold cases I'm afraid. There are plenty of theories about them of course; from unethical research, to plain and simple robbery. But immoral xenogenesis was never considered, and there certainly haven't been any reports of such activity.'

'That may be because those responsible select world's they believe are not technologically advanced enough to contact you,' Rose suggested.

'Or, as I suspect, it may be that the offspring control the hosts and either prevent them from reporting the incident, or get them to withdraw the complaint,' John theorised.

The Architect had a stern expression on her face. 'If it is the latter of your suspicions, then it is of grave concern for all the worlds which fall under our jurisdiction.'

'I agree,' said John. 'That is why I request access to your archive. We need to change the search criteria and look for cold cases or retracted complaints and follow up on what happened to the complainants.'

The Architect nodded. 'I will assign a Scrutationary Archivist to assist you.'

'Thank you,' John said as the Architect led them towards the wide, glass staircase. A young woman, who also had white hair and red eyes, approached them.

'This is Aeona,' the Architect said. 'She will assist you with your investigation.'

Aeona bowed slightly. 'Greetings.'

'Hello,' John and Rose replied.

Aeona frowned at them. 'You are not of this universe.'

'Er, no, we're not,' John said, matching her frown. 'How did you know?'

'You were born out of crisis,' she said to John.

'And you . . . There is something of the wolf about you . . . Who's afraid of the big bad wolf?' she said to Rose, in an echo of a conversation from a scullery in Cardiff.

Rose was wide eyed. 'What . . ? But how . . ?'

'That will do Aeona,' the Architect said not unkindly. 'Please forgive her impropriety. She has the sight.'

'Oh please, no need for forgiveness,' John said with an open mouthed smile. 'Might come in very useful, a bit of in-sight. Eh Rose?'

'Yeah. Definitely,' Rose agreed with a smile of her own.

Aeona bowed again and smiled with them. 'Then allow me to take you to the archives you are looking for.'

'See. A bit of insight will save us hours of searching,' John said. 'Right. Rose, I need you to go back to the TARDIS and . . .'

'Cross reference the cases with the Old Girl's database to see if there is any correlation,' she finished for him with a cheeky grin.

'Hah! Exactly.' He gave her a kiss. 'Allons-y!'

['10-3-17-0-1 by 0-2 from galactic zero centre,'] John thought to Rose, who was at the monitor of the TARDIS console.

'. . . By zero - dash - two,' Rose repeated as she tapped in the coordinates. ['Ah. An incident took place at a small township in the Northern Territory of a southern continent. Somethin' apparently went badly wrong there. There were thirty-three pregnancies, but for some reason the Children all died; most of them a few hours after birth, the eldest at a week old,'] she relayed from the report on the screen.

['That was probably why they withdrew the complaint,'] John thought back. ['Try, 7-8-9-8-2-5-8-2-0-0 from galactic centre.']

['Hang on, it's just searchin' . . . Here it is. There was an incident at a native settlement on an island, near the northern pole of the planet. The inhabitants were cagey about what happened there, but it is believed that they were so outraged, or perhaps alarmed, at the arrival of babies so unlike their own kind that they exposed them to the elements almost at once. At any rate, none survived.']

['And that one wouldn't show up on our search criteria because the whole settlement would have fallen asleep, and no one would realise that anything had happened,'] John reasoned. ['What about, 31-10-6-1-0-1-1-8-5?']

['Ooh. This one's a bit nasty. It was assumed that the women had lain with devils, and they "perished", as well as the children. It doesn't say how they "perished", but I can have a good guess,'] Rose told him. And then she remembered the phrase "massacre of the innocents" which Alice had used at the meeting. ['John? Wasn't there somethin' in the Bible about babies bein' killed?'] she asked.

['Yes. Herod the Great tried to prevent the Christ from becoming the Messiah. But there was never any evidence that it ever actually happened,'] John replied.

['Still . . . Bit of a coincidence. Same modus operandi and all that.']

['Yeah. Fair point. It might be the basis of the written account. Here's another. 1-13-7-10-12 by 3-5.']

['Oh God,'] Rose thought with dread. ['This is just what you are tryin' to avoid John. Once the babies were born, the authorities practically sealed off the town, a place about twice the size of Dunwich and the information from there virtually ceased. A week later there was a test firin' of a medium-type atomic cannon and the town ceased to exist.']

['WHAT?! They nuked the whole town?']

['Apparently. They said it was a tragic accident, and that the operator put in the wrong coordinates. But before that, there were reports of riots in the town, where the townsfolk were attackin' each other. When soldiers went to sort it out, they shot at each other,'] Rose read.

['It sounds like that fairytale wasn't a fairytale after all. The townsfolk and the soldiers would have been forced to attack each other, rather than the children. To an authoritarian regime, annihilation would be a logical and acceptable solution.']

['But they must have been desperate,'] Rose thought.

['They were fighting for the survival of the species. When that happens, the gloves come off and it's every man, woman and child for themselves. We need to find these aliens and have a chat with them,'] John thought.

['I was afraid you were gonna say that.']

So, for the next few hours they sifted through all the cases that fitted there new, expanded search criteria. Suddenly, Aeona stopped scrolling the information on the screen.

'This is one of the cases you are looking for John,' she said with conviction.

'Ooh, that sounds like a bit of insight to me. What have you found?'

'Converting the time scales to Earth time, there was an incident 12 years ago where a small community mysteriously fell asleep for 36 hours,' Aeona read.

'36 hours. That's bang on the same duration of the Dunwich incident,' John told her.

'Yes. And then, a year later, the case was closed. The complainants report that after an extensive investigation, a chemical company had been transporting a non-lethal nerve gas used in the veterinary trade for sedating dangerous animals and a leak had occurred as it passed close to the community.'

'That sounds very plausible . . . and a bit too convenient,' John said cynically. ['Rose. I'm sending you some coordinates. Get the Old Girl ready to fly.']

['Coordinates locked and loaded. Is this a live one?']

['It sounds promising and worth a look.']

They thanked Aeona and the Shadow Architect, and made their way back to the TARDIS.