Authors note: John and Rose return to the Shadow Proclamation to recheck the archive. If John's right, something will have changed.

After a thought provoking bit of feed back from a reader (many thanks Yahira), I felt I needed to update the chapter and give the surrogates a bit more of a say in how things develop.

(Always grateful for any feed back)

The generation ship mentioned in this chapter is from a novel "The Story oF Martha", by Dan Abnett.

Chapter 22

Incubating An Idea

'Madam Architect. Forgive our intrusion to your busy schedule,' John said formally. 'But the young Archivist, Aeona. Do you think she would be available to assist us again?'

'There is great demand for her talents. She is one of our best Archivists,' the Architect told him.

'I bet she is,' John said to himself. 'I wouldn't normally bypass the archive request procedure . . .'

['Yes you would,'] Rose thought cheekily in his head.

['Okay. Yes I would.'] '. . . But I believe Aeona's insights may help us prevent genocide.'

The Architect looked grave. 'Is this connected to your previous investigation into the cases of xenogenesis?'

'Yes. That's the one. I won't keep her from her duties for long,' John assured her.

'Very well. I will ensure that she is made available to assist you. Make your way to the archive and she will meet you there.'

'Thank you SO much Madam Architect,' John said, and he and Rose gave a formal bow.

A short while later, Scrutationary Archivist Aeona entered the archive library and sat at the table with John and Rose. 'Greetings again John and Rose Smith. How may I aid you?'

John gave her a cheeky smile. 'If I'm right, you can tell me that.'

'The previous searches we made, you feel they may have changed,' she said slowly.

John and Rose gave each other knowing looks. 'Yes. To you, the information will appear to be the same, but the information on this tablet is from the TARDIS, and that is outside of this timeline,' John explained.

Aeona didn't seem to find this strange at all. 'Do you have the first record?'

Rose tapped the screen of her tablet PC. '31-10-6-1-0-1-1-8-5 from galactic centre. What does your archive say about this complaint?'

Aeona tapped in the coordinates. 'As before, a small community was reported to have been put to sleep. Months later, all the women gave birth to babies who were not their own.'

'And what happened to those mothers and babies?' Rose asked eagerly.

'The children were seen as gifts from the gods, and the women were beatified as saints,' Aeona read as though it was obvious. She had read this out to John before.

'Last time, the complaint had been withdrawn, and this record was empty,' John told her. 'The TARDIS record says that the women were accused of sleeping with devils and they were slaughtered along with the babies.'

'Time is in flux,' Aeona announced. 'Things that were, things that are, and things that are yet to come are blowing like leaves on the winds of time.'

'Oh, that's beautiful,' Rose said with a warm smile.

'Yes they are,' John said with a smile of his own. 'And you are at the centre of that change Aeona.'

'How?'

John pointed at the screen. 'Pick an archive.'

'Which one?'

'You tell me.'

Aeona smiled. He wanted her to use her "sight". 'This one,' she said, pointing to a file.

John and Rose leaned close and John put his brainy specs on. '7-8-9-8-2-5-8-2-0-0. An Eskimo-like community. Once again, everyone fell asleep. Babies born months later. All hunky dory. Lovely.'

'Just as ya suspected,' Rose said with a smile. 'Our record shows that the babies were left out in the snow to die. Aeona. We need you to do this until you feel that you no longer have to. And we need each of those archives transmittin' to the TARDIS.'

'Now I know your skills are in demand,' John said. 'But time is not an issue for us, so if you could do this as and when you can, we would be very grateful.'

'To save a species, I will gladly give up my free time as you give yours.'

John and Rose went back to the blue lit reception chamber to find the Architect and thank her for her cooperation, before making their way back to the TARDIS.

'A thousand years?' Rose said, as she adjusted the controls on the console. 'We're gonna be busy for a while.'

'Yeah. We'll have to visit each community and administer the nanogenes at eight weeks gestation.'

'And convince the primitive settlements that the babies are a blessin' rather than a curse,' Rose added.

'I sense you have something in mind,' John said with a raised eyebrow.

''Well, I was thinkin', as we'll be travellin' in time, why don't we each day, nip out in our lunch hour, sort out a planet, have some lunch there, and then nip back?'

'Sounds like it could be a fun,' John agreed. 'But first of all, we've got a more pressing issue.'

'The Dunwich babies, yeah. How ARE we gonna convince them to carry the babies to full term?' Rose asked. 'I think the earliest a premature baby can survive is between twenty two and twenty three weeks. These are gonna be three weeks at best, they won't stand a chance outside the womb.'

John didn't answer. He had a vision of Donna in his head, and he didn't know why. 'Run that by me again,' he said to her, hoping that the memory would become clearer.

'Wha'? Well. If we can't convince 'em to carry the babies to full term, and we can't take 'em out of the wombs and put 'em in an incubator . . .'

It wasn't just Donna he was seeing now, it was Donna and Martha. Where were they? And then he saw it . . . at the Atmos factory!

'Sontarans!' John exclaimed.

'What? Those Mister Potato Head aliens we saw in "River's World"?' Rose asked. She had seen them in an alternative universe, where River Song had been stranded, and they had gone to rescue her.

'That's them. They're clones. They're grown in vats. You could even say they gestate,' he said, waggling his eyebrows.

Rose's mouth fell open. 'They gestate outside of a womb. Do you think it would work?'

'If somebody clever adapted the technology . . .'

'Hang on. They were kick ass warriors? Are they gonna want to share their clone vats with ya?'

'I doubt it. But they're not the only clones. There's the Cwej. Mind you, they're a military race as well. There's the Artificials, also known as the Breeds, but they were on the generation ship 374926-slash-GN66.'

'That was with Martha, wasn't it? When the colonist's cryo-system failed and they had to be remade as clones?' Rose recalled from the stories he'd told her of his adventures while she had been separated from him. Well, other him.

'That's the one . . . But the technology on the ship came from Earth,' John realised, pointing his finger into the air in front of him. He went to the monitor and started tapping the keys. 'YES! The Bio-Cellular Institute of Dungeness. Established in 2021 as the future of clone research.'

Rose started setting the temporal coordinates as John set the spatial ones. The TARDIS swayed as it changed time tracks.

Duncan "Doughnuts" Prescott was in the Supervisor's Office of the Special Operations Unit, preparing the briefing report for the handover to White Watch. He was covering for the Blue Watch Supervisor, Rose whilst she was at Dunwich with John as they broke the news about the xenogenesis. Some calls had recently come into the Despatch Office and were on the operations board, but they weren't urgent and by the time the Blue Watch teams got to them, they would be off shift and have to come back. Duncan put them on the handover report. It was standard practice. There was just one team left out in the field, but Clive and Danny were on their way back.

The members of Blue Watch were winding down after a fairly busy shift, and were drinking tea or coffee as they chatted with their colleagues in New York via the video wall.

Vrwoorp . . . Vrwoorp . . . Vrwiirp . . . Vrwiirp . . .

From an echo at the end of a long tunnel, the sound built and filled the room, along with a slight breeze as the air was pushed out of the way so that the TARDIS could occupy the space.

['Hey, guys. Would you look at that!'] one of the New York agents said.

['It's that quirky blue box that Doctor Smith travels about in.']

The TARDIS solidified, and both of the doors opened inwards, revealing the cathedral like interior which appeared to go further back than the Communications Hub behind it. From the comfy chairs and sofas to the side, the agents watched as a flatbed trolley, stacked with large glass cylinders emerged, followed by John, who was pushing it.

'Heads up guys. I could use a hand here,' John said, and the Watch moved to help him.

Another trolley emerged being pushed by Rose, and Jake Simmonds took it from her. 'You two been shopping?'

'Actually, we have,' Rose replied. 'In the twenty second century. This lot cost hundreds of thousands.'

'Seriously?' Jake asked, and Rose nodded.

Craig Rimmer had taken the trolley off John, and John went back into the TARDIS to get another one.

'Blimey. How many you got in there, Doc?' Pete Davies asked

'Fifty six in total,' came the reply.

'And what are they?' Gwen O'Toole asked.

'Cybernetic uteri,' Rose told her and saw the dribbled down her uniform look. 'Life support system for foetuses.'

'O-kay,' Julia said. 'And where are they all going?'

'Hospital Wing,' John said. 'But I'll have to phone ahead first and let them know.'

Jake started to laugh. 'You've got fifty six mechanical wombs to go on the ward, they don't know they're coming, and they haven't got any where to put them? Hah! They're gonna love you Doc.'

'I'd better call Jack,' Amy Williams said, and went through to the Despatch Office.

The lifts in Torchwood Tower were in the centre of the building in two banks of four which faced each other across a wide corridor, four facing east, and four facing west. To the south of the lifts was a wide, automatic sliding door which led to the Emergency And Trauma Department, with Critical Care adjacent to it. To the north was a glass sliding door which led to the hospital reception, outpatients and non acute wards.

Craig pushed the first of the trolleys through the glass door as it slid open. The receptionists looked up, expecting either nursing staff, a doctor, or at least a patient. It's fair to say they weren't expecting an agent pushing a trolley full of funny looking glass jars.

'Can I help you?' one of them said.

'Special delivery from Doctor Smith,' Craig said as Jake pushed another trolley through the glass doors behind him. 'Bionic wombs or something.'

'Does the Ward Sister know about this?'

'I doubt it,' Jake said with a cheeky grin. Pete arrived with the next trolley.

'I'd better call Sister,' the other receptionist said and picked up the phone.

The Ward Sister and Jack Harkness arrived at the same time in the now crowded reception.

'What the hell is that madman up to now?' the Sister asked.

'Sorry Sister Richardson. It's all a bit last minute, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to find space for fifty six specialist incubators,' Jack informed her.

'Fifty six? We don't have enough specialist neonatal nurses for a start, let alone the space for all these.' Just as she said that, another trolley arrived, pushed by John.

'Oh. Hello Sister Richardson, Jack,' John said with a smile. 'These are all self contained units, and won't need any specialist nurses. Just nurses who can interpret the usual patient monitors.'

'Well that's one problem sorted,' Jack said. He turned to the Sister. 'Do you have a corner of a ward available that we could move the beds out of and put some racking in?'

'This is most irregular,' Richardson said.

John took her gently by the elbow and led her to the side of the corridor. 'Sister Richardson. I'm presuming you became a nurse because you care about people and wanted to help the injured and the sick, and to save lives. Am I right?'

'Yes of course. What are you insinuating?' she asked suspiciously. Was this man questioning her dedication to her patients?

'Nothing,' John said quickly. 'I'm not insinuating anything. What I'm saying is there are fifty six women who have been impregnated against their will, and they want to terminate them.' John thought about that. 'Terminate. It's so much easier to say than kill, don't you think?'

'And these devices will save them?' she asked as Craig Owens brought another trolley.

'They ought to, they cost enough,' John replied.

Richardson looked at Jack. 'Director. I'll need some warehouse staff to move things around.'

Jack gave her his perfect smile. 'You've got it. Thank you.'

'Brilliant,' John said. 'Thank you Sister.' ['Rose. Will you pick the kids up? I'm going to busy for a while,'] he thought to his wife.

['Jack pulled rank then? No problem Love. I'll get Donna to save you some dinner.']

'So, did you have to dip into your savings to pay for this lot?' Jack asked, as they stood with their backs against the reception desk with their arms folded.

'Er, no. Not exactly,' John said sheepishly, tugging his ear. 'We bought some shares we knew would do well before we went, and collected the dividends in 2120.'

'Clever.' Jack looked at him and then back at the trolleys. 'Rose's idea?'

'Yeah.'

Alice DiMaggio was sitting on the bed of her room in the Sickle And Scythe Inn, with her overnight bag open. She had been packing to leave, and there was only her toiletries left to fit in, when her phone had rung. It was her five year old daughter, Lillie.

'Have you been a good girl for Daddy, Sweetheart?'

['Yes Mummy. Daddy says I've been a little angel,'] she told her mother proudly. Alice had a warm smile on her face as she listened to her daughter's voice, which had that slight lisp of childhood. ['Will you be home soon? I miss you.']

'I miss you too Sweetheart. Mummy's just packing now. I should be home before your bedtime,' Alice told her.

['Yay! Mummy's coming home,'] Alice heard her telling her father.

'Is Daddy there Sweetheart?'

['Yes Mummy. I'll put him on. I love you Mummy.']

'Love you Sweetheart. See you soon.' Alice stood and wandered over to the window which looked out over the Green.

['Hi Love. How's it been?'] her partner, Alistair McKenzie asked her.

'Not as good as I was hoping for,' Alice confessed, as she absently watched one of the villagers come out of the post office.

['Rough meeting huh?']

'Yeah. There was an incident with the alien child and he demonstrated his abilities. He's got everyone terrified that it's the end of the world.'

['And is it?'] Alistair asked.

'No. John says he can permanently disable their abilities, and I believe him. The trouble is, the villagers don't know him like we do, and they don't trust him. Even the women who could have conceived naturally were in two minds about keeping their babies'

['That alien must have given one hell of a demonstration.']

'Oh you have no idea. I'll tell you all about it when I get home.'

['Okay Love. Have you had anything to eat? Do you want me to do you anything?']

'No, it's okay. I'm going to have a bite to eat here. They do really nice meals actually. You know, it's such a shame this has happened to these people. It's such a lovely little village.'

['Fancy living there do you?'] Alistair asked her jokingly.

'Maybe when I retire,' she replied. 'At the moment it would be a bit too quiet for me.'

Alistair laughed. ['You ARE joking? Quiet?']

Alice laughed with him. 'You know what I mean. We'd miss the bright lights and the hussle and bussle of London. And I love living at the Lodge.'

Alistair was the house manager at Tyler Mansion, and had lived there for years in his own suite. Then he had met Alice, and she had moved in with Pete and Jackie's blessing. Then their daughter had arrived and they started looking for a place of their own. Pete and Jackie were devastated, as they were like a son and daughter to them. And then Pete came up with an idea. The old, dilapidated groundskeeper's lodge could be renovated and turned into a home for them. Pete brought in the builders, Jackie brought in the interior designers, and the Old Lodge was turned into a "des res".

['Yeah. And I'd feel like I was being disloyal to Pete and Jackie, although that would never cross their minds . . . Oh, our little angel is demanding my attention Love, so I'll see you when you get home. Have a safe journey. Love you.']

'Love you too. Bye.'

Alice ended the call and watched the man who'd come out of the post office, wander out of sight along Oppley Lane. She turned away from the window and reached her toiletry bag off the hand basin. She went to the bed and put it in the overnight bag before zipping it up. Her phone rang again. The display said "Torchwood".

'Hello. Alice DiMaggio,' she said.

['Alice. It's John. Are you still in Dunwich?']

'Yes. I was just going to have something to eat, and then I was going to hit the road.'

['Ah, right. And how did it go with the women? Did you convince them to wait?']

'Some of them,' she told him, with a defeated tone of voice. 'I think most of them are going to make an appointment at the clinic in Trayne tomorrow.'

['(Martha. Phone Trayne General. Tell them any alien infestations have to be handled by Torchwood. Or something like that.) Alice. I have a way of saving these aliens, but we need the women to come here. Find Doctor Willers and tell him what I told Martha. Hopefully they won't question it if it comes from medical professionals.']

'What have you got in mind John?'

['We've acquired some incubators that will sustain the foetuses in vitro, and the brain modification worked perfectly.']

'Oh that's wonderful John. Leave it with me. I'll make sure they know that they'll have to come to Torchwood. I'm not the lead psychologist for nothing.'

['No. You're the lead psychologist because you are brilliant you are. See you when you get back.']

'Yeah. See you tomorrow. Bye John.'

She took her bag out to the Torchwood Range Rover and put it in the back. Then she went back into the Inn to order her food. She sat at one of the tables with a glass of white wine, and phoned Doctor Willers. Ten minutes later, Charles and Milly were sitting at the table with her, enjoying a drink and a meal as she explained what John had got in mind.

'But tell me Alice, how the devil does he intend to get the foetuses out of the women and into these incubators?

'You know Charles. I have so much faith in John's abilities, and am so used to him performing miracles, that I never even thought to ask.'