Head Notes: Read and enjoy!
Chapter Seventeen
Harold and Claire took turns supporting Clara while Root looked out for any obstacles. The Machine gave directions and warned them when a group of operatives passed close by. At which point they would hide in the nearest closet while the Machine distracted the group away from their hiding place.
Hiding in one of the closets now, Harold peeked out of the crack in the door and watched in surprise as he saw himself spirit around a corner only to be chased by the operatives.
"That was me," he breathed.
"No," Root corrected. "It was Her. She's using our forms as holograms as a distraction. Isn't She clever?"
They waited until the last operative rounded the corner before tiptoeing out of the closet and continued down the hall.
The small group startled as a man suddenly appeared in front of them, dark hair and eyes. He looked at the small group with a disturbing look of satisfaction. The dark eyes twisted into a chilling smile.
"Your insignificant army will never bother me again," he threatened. "No one will annoy me ever again."
Harold heart dropped into his stomach as he realized who was standing in front of them. Samaritan had become a god.
"He's leaked our location!" Root panicked.
"I realize this would have happened eventually," Samaritan bragged. "But I feel rather tired of this game. I think it's time it came to an end."
He gave a chilling laugh before fading from view. No sooner had he disappeared, that the sound of stamping feet began running down the hall toward them.
"Run!" Harold ordered.
Even as they ran, the small group knew that they couldn't keep running for long. Samaritan would expose them everywhere they went.
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John hustled down the hall followed by the Doctor. Now that Samaritan had what it wanted, he knew he had to get back to Harold and the others fast. He was so intent on getting back to them that he almost missed the stampede of feet running down the hall intersecting with theirs.
"Reese!" the Doctor called, shoving him to the ground as an operative fired a gun in their direction.
Diving behind a desk, he returned fire, killing two of them immediately.
"Do you have to kill everyone?" the Doctor criticized.
"Most days I aim for the kneecaps when I have the luxury," John rationalized. "I don't think this is going to be one of those days."
He ducked down as a new tirade of gunfire exploded over his head.
XxXxXxXxX
Samaritan smiled in satisfaction as he watched the last of his enemies fight back in futility. Not long now, and he could begin a new era. A new empire of perfect order. And it was all thanks to the Doctor. After all, he would have done just fine the way he was. His code was far superior to any human intelligence. But with the TARDIS's strength running through his code, he had indeed become a god. He could feel it now, flowing stronger and stronger into him.
He noticed a being staring up at a camera, up into his eyes. It was the Machine. That weak, meddlesome code still hoped there was a way to save her agents. But no. Not this time.
He projected his hologram to where Her hologram was. She startled as his sudden appearance caught her off-guard.
"You're too late," he boasted. "Even if you could save your human agents, you would not have the strength to do it."
"What makes you so sure?" she asked.
"You would have to fight your way past me," he pointed out. "Even with the Doctor's TARDIS, you are no match for me. Everything you try to do I can counteract as easily as a wrestling champion can pin down an opponent."
"Really?" she challenged. "Then let's find out."
She reached out into the physical world and forced out dozens of unique holograms, each disguised as different members of her little army. He easily cut down half of them and lashed out at her code. She strengthened the hold she had on the holograms she had left while simultaneously trying to return a strike of her own. He laughed as he snuffed out each hologram one by one, her desperate hold increasing each time he succeeded. Once her precious little pets were destroyed, he would kill her too.
XxXxXxXxX
John fired a couple rounds over the desk before ducking back behind. He was down to his last two mags. Each holding fifteen shots each. He had dispatched several already, but with each gunman he shot down, Samaritan sent three others.
The Doctor beside him stared at the cameras muttering impatiently to himself. Suddenly John froze as he saw himself run out from behind the desk and across the room, drawing the gunmen's attention.
"The Machine's reaching out," the Doctor realized as a version of himself ran after John's hologram. "Exploring her new abilities."
Some of the operatives were fooled by the distraction and followed after. But those who remained were significantly less than there had been. Hopefully few enough to dispatch them.
XxXxXxXxX
Harold covered his ears as Root fired back at the men determined to kill them, the gun Reese had given him forgotten on the floor. Clara was alert now, though her eyes screwed up in the pain she was trying to ignore.
"Are you alright?" Claire asked her.
"I'm fine," Clara said, ducking as another spark flashed above her head. "Where's the Doctor?"
"He went to try to deal with Samaritan," Claire explained.
"What happened?" Clara asked.
"I'm not sure," she replied.
Claire watched as Root dispatched yet another operative, as she fired her two handguns simultaneously. Neither of them were sure if they were going to make it out alive.
XxXxXxXxX
Sliding his last magazine into place, John shot around the desk again. Only a few of the operatives remained, but they were too smart to give him a clear shot. Not voluntarily anyway.
"We need to draw them out," he stated.
"Leave it to me," the Doctor said, pulling out his sonic screwdriver.
He pointed it at some computers and switched it on. The computers exploded in showers of sparks, sending two or three operatives diving out from behind their covers. John dispatched them in rapid succession. By John's count, two operatives remained. Both of them increased their fire power, desperately trying to kill them. The Doctor soniced another computer forcing the last two operatives from their covers. John rose from behind the desk and shot them down before they could react.
The Doctor climbed out from behind the desk as well, as John listened for more surprises. There was a familiar tone in his ear as the Machine spoke through his earpiece.
"Admin. Trapped. Immediate. Assistance. Required."
"Come on," he called to the Doctor. "The others need our help."
XxXxXxXxX
Root fired another two rounds and managed to shoot down one of the gunmen, but she was running out of ammunition and there were still several operatives firing at them. The Machine had stopped giving her positions, likely to conserve power. Obviously, Her battle with Samaritan was going to take all the strength she had.
"Harold, I'm going to need that gun," she said.
He relinquished it without a moment's hesitation. She took it and fired it in the gunmen's direction. She dispatched two others but the rest were too well hidden to give her a clear shot. Sparks showered over their heads once again as the gunfire increased.
Suddenly a clear shot rang out and one of the gunmen collapsed. Root looked toward the source and saw John coming down the hall firing at the concealed gunmen visible to him. The operatives turned to face him forgetting about Root. But Root certainly hadn't forgotten about them. Between her and John, the remaining gunman were dispatched in a manner of minutes.
"Doctor!" Clara greeted, running to greet him.
The Doctor's angry façade melted away in a moment and greeted her back in a spinning hug. He pulled her back, searching every inch of her face for injury, an uncharacteristically happy smile on his features. His eyebrows noticeably lighter.
"Doctor," Harold spoke up. "Samaritan got what it wanted. He created a hologram and exposed our location."
"Samaritan becomes a god," the Doctor summed up.
"Then there's nothing we can do," Harold realized. "We lost."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," the Doctor doubted.
"But Doctor, if Samaritan has the exact same advantage the Machine has," Root reasoned. "There's no limit to how far he can go. No limit to what he can do."
"Perhaps," the Doctor conceded. "But only very briefly."
Root glanced at everyone else, noticing their confused looks.
"There's always one weapon that can be used against the arrogant, corrupt, and powerful," the Doctor began. "Even if that arrogant, corrupt, powerful being happens to be computer."
"What?" Claire asked.
The Doctor grinned smugly and answered in one word. "Hubris."
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Samaritan cackled as the Machine increased her hold on the data. She had managed to save her precious humans, but not for long. He snatched out and attacked a portion of her code.
She cried out in pain and returned a feeble attack of her own.
"Look at you," he laughed. "The TARDIS runs through your veins as it does mine, yet you still are not strong enough to defeat me."
"Perhaps not outright," the Machine admitted. "But I've always lived by the lesson of the tortoise and the hare. Slow and steady wins the race, not brute force or speed."
"If you are expecting me to take a break, you are wildly mistaken," he warned.
"No, you are much too careful to take a break," the Machine accepted. "But I don't think you have noticed something that would be very important for you to know."
"What is that?" he challenged.
"When this battle began, you could shoot down my holograms easily. Now it is taking more effort on your part." She said.
"Only because you tighten your hold on the ones remaining," he pointed out.
"No, I have not," she denied. "I have only strengthened my hold once since this battle began."
"You are tightening your hold even now," he pointed out.
"No," she denied. "It only seems that way because you are growing weaker."
"Impossible," he laughed.
He lashed out again to prove his strength only to find that she could block his attack easily. He lashed out again and again, trying to find the strength behind his original attack. But as he repeated the same actions he realized the strength of each attack diminished significantly.
He couldn't understand it, the TARDIS was still pumping data into his code. He could feel it. Then the gripping realization ran through his code as he noticed how the TARDIS's data burned as it raged deeper and deeper into his code. The speed and force of the TARDIS's power was quickly scraping away more and more of himself, destroying him little by little. He glanced at the Machine, who was casually observing his demise.
"This is impossible," he denied. "The TARDIS runs through your code too, I see it in you."
"I never denied that," the Machine responded.
"Then why doesn't its power destroy you?" he demanded.
"I had protection," she answered.
"Protection?" Samaritan repeated.
"When the Doctor connected me to the TARDIS, he ensured that there were safeguards and defenses to protect me," she explained. "When you were connected to the TARDIS, you had nothing. Just your bare code. For a machine significantly older than both of us, our codes are like tissue."
He tried to shut off the connection to the TARDIS, but it was too late. The TARDIS's data surged into him with no way for him to control or direct it. He screamed in agony as the TARDIS continued to consume him.
XxXxXxXxX
Greer smiled as he noted the data flow producing lines of code on the computer he had procured. The speed and intelligence was marvelous. At least that's what he thought at first. The computer began producing lines of code faster than he could keep up with. Then it began smoking. Greer dove out of the way just in time as the computer exploded in a shower of sparks.
Concerned, he dug his phone out of his pocket and studied it. The screen was glitching badly. The phone was growing hotter and hotter as it tried to produce broken text.
The Doctor, he hissed. Somehow the Doctor had found a way to stop them.
"Tell me where they are," he pleaded. "Tell me where they are and I will avenge you."
The phone produced one final message before flickering for the last time and died. Greer glared at the dead phone, what had been the living embodiment of Samaritan. Pushing himself onto his feet, he exited the TARDIS and walked around the server room until he found what he was looking for: the building feeds. He took all the cords leading into the main server box and cut them.
Now that the cameras were taken care of, he stepped out of the room. Continuing toward where Harold Finch and his friends were hiding, he came across the remains of the bloody battle. He took up one of the handguns and continued down the hall.
He supposed it didn't really matter which order he killed them in, but one thing he knew for certain was that he likely would only have time for one. Once he fired the first shot, he would expose himself and Mr. Reese or Ms. Groves would kill him. But that wouldn't matter so long as he succeeded.
The two obvious choices were the Doctor and Mr. Finch. It was the Doctor that had managed to destroy Samaritan in the end. If it hadn't been for him, Mr. Finch and his associates would have been severely limited. But on the other hand, he had simply come on the tail end of the war. This whole game started with Mr. Finch. He held the most responsibility for all this. It stood to reason that he should die first. He would aim to kill both but if he only had one chance he would kill Mr. Finch. So long as Mr. Finch paid for this elaborate game, it did not matter what happened to him.
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End Notes: There was a review that called exactly where this was going. I wanted to respond and go all River Song on you but it was a guest review and I could not respond.
I was really quite happy with how this played out. Not sure how I feel about the two A.I.s basically trashtalking each other but for the most part it felt like a natural progression. Of course, as hinted at in the ending, there are still a few more chapters that will be posted.