Chapter 9

A stone slipped under Donna's boot and she stumbled, but she managed to keep her footing. One of the other women shot her a look. "They'll kill you if you fall."

"Who? The pepper pots or the soldiers?"

"Does it matter? The Daleks and the Kaleds, they're the same," the woman answered, her voice ringing with a mixture of fear and suppressed hate.

"But…"

"Silence!" one of the soldiers bellowed, and one of the Daleks turned his eye stalk in their direction.

The other woman shot her another meaningful glance, and Donna lowered her head. Maybe she would have a chance to get away from them at night after she had rested, but right now she was simply too exhausted to plan. The sun was burning down on them mercilessly and she needed a break, but by the looks of it she wouldn't get one until they reached their destination. When the children hadn't been able to walk any further, the soldiers had forced the adults to carry them, but they hadn't let them slow down. Compared to this, the Doctor's brisk speed seemed almost like a walk in the park. And he had allowed her a break when it was hottest.

The Doctor. He had to know by now that she had vanished. He would come, wouldn't he? He wouldn't just leave her behind. Not on another planet. Or would he? Why would he come for somebody who not only was completely useless, but had also managed to get herself captured? And he had said that he didn't exactly look forward to a rescue mission. So what if…

She stumbled again, cursed and concentrated on the ground in front of her.

~o~o~o~

When they finally reached the camp the soldier had spoken of, Donna was barely able to set one foot in front of the other. It had taken them almost a day to reach their destination, and now the sun was about to set. It was still freaking hot, and she longed for a bit of water. They stopped in front of a Nissen hut and the small group of humanoids huddled in the first shadow they had been allowed the entire day, while one of the soldiers politely knocked at the door. When it opened a distinguished looking humanoid appeared, wearing a uniform decorated with marks that indicated a higher rank.

"General, we rounded up the last group," the soldier reported. "According to our scans all surviving Thals are now inside the camp."

The general gave the small group of people a disinterested look. "Well done, Captain. Send them for processing. We don't want to infest our work force with their germs," he ordered in a clipped voice, then he disappeared back into the building.

The soldiers ushered the small group into another hut that looked slightly less rundown than the rest of the camp, but to Donna's relief the pepper pots stayed where they were. They had been giving her the creeps all day, especially whenever she remembered the Doctor's explanation.

When she crossed the threshold she stopped briefly in surprise. The contrast to the exterior was even greater than the one she had experienced in medieval London. She was standing in a full-fledged medical facility, equipped with instruments that looked partly like those she had seen on shows on the telly and partly like those in the infirmary on the TARDIS. At the other side of the half-darkened room she could see a wooden door. She was contemplating making a run for it, when it opened and a man in a white lab coat appeared.

The soldiers forced them to stand in a line, and the man in the lab coat stepped in front of the first person, a woman of about forty. The scientist ran some sort of scanner over her until the device dinged, then a soldier dragged the woman outside. The man turned his attention towards the next person in the line and repeated the procedure. Eventually he came to a child, a girl of ten or eleven, and the woman Donna had talked to earlier suddenly rushed forward, grabbing the scientist at the arm. "Not my daughter! Do with me whatever you want, but spare her! Don't make her go into the mines! Please! She's so afraid in the dark!"

The scientist gave her a disgusted look, then jerked his chin at one of the soldiers who hit her with the stock of his gun. The woman doubled over, moaning. "Shut up, Thal scum!" the soldier ordered, raising his gun to emphasise his words. The woman fell silent, biting her lips to suppress another moan. She glared at the soldier, and Donna almost shivered at the hate in her gaze.

"Take the girl to the others," the scientist commanded. "And mark the mother for special treatment." Then he returned his attention to the other prisoners.

Donna had no idea what was going on, and truth be told, she didn't want to find out. Right now all she wanted was to get out of here. Maybe she could get through that bloody door on the other side of the room, even if she didn't know what she would find there. It couldn't be worse than what was going on here, could it?

Two 'dings' later the scientist was scanning the man next to her, and she bolted, consequences be damned. She raced through the room and opened the door, only to stop dead as soon as she'd crossed the threshold. She barely registered the even more sophisticated scientific equipment, because her gaze got drawn towards the other side of the room. In the dim light she could see rows upon rows of large glass jars filled with greyish slimy mini-krakens, wailing like babies. Although they looked pretty harmless, their sheer presence filled her with an irrational fear. What were they?

"Daleks in their basic form. The future of our race. They are beautiful, aren't they? Even a Thal like you must acknowledge that," the voice of the scientist said from behind, and Donna jumped.

As soon as she'd found her voice again, she asked with more boldness than she really felt, "Someone hit you over the head, or what? Those are the most disgusting things I've ever seen!"

The scientist ignored her comment and nodded at a soldier to hold her, while he ran the scanner over her. She struggled against the grip, but in vain. The soldier was too strong.

A few seconds later the results came up. "Inconclusive." The scientist considered her appearance and repeated the scan. "Fascinating. You look Thal, but the scanner says you aren't."

"Big surprise," Donna commented sarcastically, trying to hide her fear. "I could've told you if you'd bothered asking."

"But what are you? You aren't Kaled either," he stated, scientific curiosity in his voice. He took a syringe from a table.

"What do you need that for?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. Bugger. She hadn't wanted him to know how scared she really was, but since the Doctor had told her what Lance had done to her she was afraid of anyone tampering with her body chemistry again. That had been the reason why she had fought the Doctor nail and claw when he'd tried to inoculate her, even if she knew rationally that he only wanted her best. But this was different, the Daleks in the glass jars told her as much.

"Oh, just a short look at your genetic makeup," the scientist said.

"And you can't just ask where I come from?" She was not going to let herself reduce to a trembling coward. She'd given the Racnoss Empress a piece of her mind, for god's sake, she wasn't going to let a needle intimidate her.

"Would you answer?"

She glared at him. "No."

"I thought so." He nodded at the soldier holding her and he straightened her arm, exposing the vein so the scientist could draw blood. He placed the sample in one of the machines on the table and typed a few commands.

A few seconds later the machine dinged and the results of the screening showed up on a monitor. "Interesting," the scientist commented. He pressed a button and seconds later another monitor flickered to life, showing a face with greyish skin and a mark on his forehead that looked almost like a third eye.

"Doctor Gorran," the man screeched, sounding almost like one of the Daleks. "Is the cataloguing complete?"

"Sir, we made a prisoner whose genetic makeup shows that she is neither Thal nor Kaled. I don't know where she came from, but her DNA matches certain receptors of a sample we took from a person associated with the Doctor," the scientist said. "She is definitely not Time Lord, but it is possible that she travelled with him. Her DNA shows traces of a sort of background radiation that is associated with… time travel? But that's impossible!"

"The Doctor is an enemy of our species," the man on the monitor declared, ignoring the last few words. "If we have his associate, he will come to us and he will be exterminated!" His voice almost cracked with excitement, then he seemed to calm down again. "Mark her for special treatment, but make sure she isn't sent out with them just yet. We wouldn't want to waste our bait."

"Understood." The scientist switched the monitor off and turned his attention towards the soldier holding Donna. "Take her to the miner's quarters, as Davros ordered. She can work in the kitchen and make herself useful." He paused briefly. "Until the Doctor meets his fate. Then we will find another use for her."

~o~o~o~

Since Donna had first heard the soldier mention mines, she had wondered what it was about them. Ever since she had entered the camp she had looked for obvious signs of mining activities, like shaft towers or spoil piles, but hadn't seen any. When the soldier dragged her to the miner's quarters, she realised why. The entrance to the mines wasn't a shaft but a tunnel built directly into the mountain, looking like the gaping jaws of a predator. The sheer sight was giving her the creeps.

She didn't have to look at it long, though, because the soldier shoved her unceremoniously into a barrack. As soon as her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she came to the conclusion that the definition 'miner's quarters' was blatantly wrong. The room was filled with rather small bunk beds, filled with thin mattresses and threadbare sheets. About half of them were occupied by children between six and fourteen, the other beds were empty. Two or three of the children were staring at her with hollow, empty eyes. The stale smell in the room spoke of hunger and desperation.

Suddenly a siren blared and the children got up slowly, some of them rubbing their eyes with their fists, others groaning. Astonishingly, there wasn't any grumbling about 'five more minutes' or sheets being pulled over heads, but what disturbed Donna most was that the chatter and the dawdling were missing. This was just not right.

The children queued in front of a long counter behind which three women filled bowls with thin soup. On closer look Donna recognised the one that had put up a fight for her daughter earlier, but she couldn't see any of the other adults that had been brought to the camp with her.

The soldier pushed her in the direction of the counter. "Make yourself useful, scum."

Donna turned around and glared at him. "Be careful with the name calling, idiot boy. You are taking orders from megalomaniac pepper pots and Doctor Frankenstein. You really don't wanna know what I think about that."

"Shut it," the soldier sneered. "Or else you'll regret that you've ever been born."

She gave him another glare, but for once she decided to do the wise thing and stepped behind the counter, picked up a soup ladle and turned her attention to the girl in front of her. She could have been not older than ten, but her eyes were old, speaking of terrible things she must have seen. No child should ever have such eyes, Donna decided. When the girl held out her bowl Donna could barely suppress a gasp at seeing how gaunt her arms were, and the boy next to her was in no better condition. She filled the bowl with thin soup and handed it back to the girl. "Here, love." She smiled in a desperate attempt to hold back tears.

Giving Donna one last look the soldier left the hut, shutting the door behind him. The noise that followed sounded like the door was being secured with a large bar.

About twenty minutes later the siren blared again, and the doors opened once more. The children got up, queued once more and marched towards the exit, dropping their bowls into a large box standing next to the door. As soon as the last of them had left the barrack another queue of children came in, covered with dust.

One of the women had introduced herself as Tellian while they had been giving out soup and told Donna that two of her own children were among those in the barrack. Now she was standing next to Donna, soundlessly moving her lips. Eventually the door fell shut, and she said calmly, "Two."

"Two what?" Donna asked.

"Losses."

"What do you mean, losses?"

"They went into the mines this morning, and two of them didn't come back."

"But what does that mean?"

"It means that they didn't come back."

"You sound like a broken record. What. Does. That. Mean?" Donna demanded.

Seeing the expression of the other woman Donna was fairly certain she wouldn't like the answer. She was right. "They're dead."

"They are dead? You're just standing here and telling me that they're dead?"

"What's there to do? It happens. There are cave-ins, or firedamps or they don't work fast enough and the guards shoot them." Tellian still sounded remarkably calm.

Donna blinked a few times, unable to process what she was hearing. Then she exploded. "It happens? What the hell is wrong with you? Have you been brain-washed? They are children! They could have been your children! They shouldn't even be here, let alone the mines, and you tell me that they die? Every day? And you don't do anything about it? God, you make me sick!"

She turned around, stomped over to the box with used dishes and pulled it over to the sink behind the counter, then she began to wash the dishes with passionate fury. If she didn't do something she was likely to wring a neck or two, and she was fairly certain that this wouldn't help her situation.

After a while the woman who had been sent for special treatment earlier came over. She had introduced herself as Serra while they'd been serving soup. Now she picked up a towel and began to dry the dishes. "You're right, we've got to do something," she said grimly. "If I have to die, I won't go like a coward. That's not how my mother raised me." She paused and continued after a few seconds, "You're not from this planet, are you? I know you're not Thal, and if you were Kaled you wouldn't be here."

Donna eyed her warily, uncertain if she really had found an ally, but willing to take the chance. Not that she had much of a choice, anyway. She made a decision and nodded. The scientist had already found out that much anyway.

"I've never met someone from another planet before," Serra said. "My mother did, though. She was in the ministerial guard, back before the Daleks were even created, and then, on the day when everything changed, she met a man called the Doctor. He saved her life, and then he told her she had to fight. She never stopped, until the Daleks killed her."

Donna stared at her in astonishment. "You've heard of the Doctor?"

"Do you know him? Is he here? On Skaro?" the other woman asked, a spark of hope kindling in her eyes.

Something about the other woman told Donna that she could trust her, that this wasn't a trap. Glancing around to make sure she couldn't be overheard, she nodded almost imperceptibly. "He'll come, and he'll stop this," she said with as much conviction as she could muster, keeping her voice low. He would come, wouldn't he? He had to. Although, judging by the condition many of the children were in he'd better hurry.

~o~o~o~

The air was thick with smoke and ash, the atmosphere so polluted he couldn't even see the sky. The Doctor was standing on what had been a wheat field only days ago, before the Daleks had invaded Arcadia, and stared towards the capital. The once proud buildings had been reduced to smouldering monuments of a golden age, fallen to ruins. They had lost, although it had already been too late when he'd arrived. That was the norm these days. Always too late. Not good enough.

He kept his eyes focussed on the burning city, trying to avoid the destruction around him. People were lying dead in the trampled crops around him. People he had come to know in these too short days, learned about their dreams, shared their meals and their small tents. Ulric, who had been a musician in another life and had cheered them up with songs; Dwine, who had wanted nothing more than to finally marry his girlfriend; Reda, who reminded him of Ace with his ability to cook up explosives from almost anything; Stine, the girl that could put the fear of the Eternals into her six older brothers. All gone. Too late. Not good enough.

In an unconscious gesture he straightened the velvet of his jacket, absently noting a new cut and a few burn marks on the fabric. He ran his hands through his hair, as always surprised to find the chestnut curls gone, replaced by a severe soldier's cut he'd given himself months ago and kept ever since. He suspected he wouldn't have the chance to grow them back, and asking the TARDIS to repair the damages to his suit would just be a waste of valuable resources.

With a last glance at the city he turned around to return to his TARDIS. There was nothing left to do. Arcadia was lost, the last bastion between the Dalek fleet and Gallifrey had fallen. It wouldn't be long now. He could feel it, deep inside. He was so tired. He had seen too much, done too much, even without what was going to happen. He had known for months, but he had clung to that tiny spark of hope deep in his hearts, that maybe, somehow he wouldn't have to do it. He would have to return to Gallifrey soon. The end was coming, and he hoped that it would be over for him then, too. His eighth life should be his last.

He had only made a few steps in the direction of the TARDIS when something caught his eyes. A crumpled figure was lying on the ground, clad in a vivid blue hoodie. A light breeze played with strands of shoulder length hair, almost hypnotising him. He couldn't tear his eyes away. None of the people he had met in the last couple of days had had blonde hair and none would even have thought about wearing such bright colours instead of their camouflage suits. Slowly he moved closer and bent down, touching the still warm skin on her hand tentatively before turning the body around.

She looked at if she was sleeping, her eyes closed, her body unmarred by weapons. Dalek death ray, the analytical part of his mind informed him before he fully registered what he was seeing.

~o~o~o~

"Rose!"

The Doctor woke with a strangled gasp, crouched under the grating in the console room. His fingers were clutching the sonic screwdriver as if it was the only thing connecting him to reality in a realm of madness. He must have fallen asleep without even noticing, after almost three days of constant work on the TARDIS and the lack of sleep in the previous week.

It had been so real. He could still feel the smoke in his lungs, the light breeze, discern the smell of burnt flesh, almost as if he had been back to Arcadia, reliving events he had seen in his eighth incarnation. So many lives had been lost that day. And then a vision of Rose had inserted itself into the nightmare.

He gripped the sonic harder, feeling the ridges of the metal digging into his skin until he forced himself to let it go. It clattered on the floor, glowing faintly. For almost a minute he stared at his hands and willed them to stop trembling.

He could feel madness lurking in the darkest corners of his mind. It would be so easy to give in, to just let go, stop thinking, stop fighting. But it had been a dream, he reminded himself. Rose was alive, safe in another universe. He had seen her, held her. She was safe. She had to be. Because if she wasn't…

He closed his eyes for a few seconds that stretched into minutes and tried to pull himself together. Eventually he reached for the sonic and began to reconnect the last wires that linked the helmic regulator to the temporal stabilisers. Just one more hour to finish this part of the repairs, then he could focus on the dematerialisation circuit. Unfortunately that meant another four days before he could even begin to think about freeing Donna. Minimum. He hoped that she was still alive. She was far too stubborn to get herself killed just like that. And if he kept telling himself that he might actually believe it.

~o~o~o~

"Rose!"

Rose woke slowly, with the dreading feeling that something was very much not right, even if she didn't know what it was. Throwing back the duvet, she padded over to the en suite to get a glass of water. She could have sworn that she had heard the Doctor, although she wondered why she hadn't actually met him this time.

Looking into the mirror she did what she only ever did in the wee hours of the morning: admitting to herself how much she missed him. She hoped that he was alright. Well, as alright as someone could be while leading his lifestyle. Chances were that he had managed to get himself and Donna captured at least twice since she had last seen him. And he called her jeopardy-friendly.

A knock at her bedroom door interrupted her musings. "Rose?" Jackie's voice asked. "Rose? Are you awake? We've got to go to the hospital. Now."

"Mum? Is the baby…?" The question was interrupted by a groan. Rose didn't even bother to finish the sentence. She grabbed a few clothes, dressed quickly and opened the door.

Jackie was leaning against the wall, clutching a bag. Her face was pale.

Rose took her arm. "Where's Pete?"

"Conference in Geneva."

He was not even born yet, but it seemed her little brother had inherited her mother's lack of timing, Rose thought. Almost as soon as Jackie had found out that she was pregnant the doctors had told her that she was suffering from rhesus incompatibility. They had monitored her very carefully, but now it seemed they had run out of luck. Something was wrong, and now the baby was coming much too early. In a month or so Jackie would have moved to London, but now they were in the middle of nowhere, more than forty miles from a hospital equipped to deal with risk pregnancies. "Right. Let's get you into the Jeep."

Rose carefully manoeuvred Jackie down the stairs, every once in a while pausing to let her catch her breath. With the hand that wasn't supporting her mum, she fished her mobile out of her pocket and called the hospital, then Pete.

After what seemed an eternity but couldn't have been more than three minutes they reached the Jeep. She secured Jackie on the passenger seat and started the engine. While she steered the car over the narrow streets, Rose silently cursed the health system in this universe. The money went into the hospitals in the better parts of the larger cities, leaving the rest of the population cut off from state of the art medical care. The NHS had had its own failures, true, but at least there had been minimum standards.

Jackie's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Rose."

She had never heard her mum sound so frightened. Not with the Autons, not with the Slitheen, not when they'd found out what the ghosts had been.

"Yes, Mum?" She would never know how she kept her voice from wavering, but she sounded incredibly calm.

"Rose, I'm bleeding."

Rose cursed again, loudly this time. She stepped on the gas, her eyes fixed on the street, occasionally glancing at the speedometer. The needle hit forty, then fifty. Normally she wouldn't have dared to drive this fast on a street so narrow and especially not with her mum in the car, but she had no choice. She was not going to lose her mum and her baby brother. It just wasn't going to happen.