Of One Blood
Chapter Two
The TARDIS seemed to slip seamlessly into the landscape, blending with the Long Island vegetation as if it had been carefully placed there to use the foliage as camouflage.
The familiar wheeze from the box's rotor faded, and as the door swung open, not a sound greeted the scene save for the Doctor's still squishing footsteps.
There was no bird song, no insect twitter - despite their rustic location.
"It's so quiet," Martha noted as she joined the strangely silent Time Lord.
The Doctor nodded, sliding his hands into his trouser pockets as he surveyed the sky.
It was a faultless blue, pock marked here and there with a high bank of cirrocumulus clouds - not perfect weather, but certainly more natural than what they had left behind.
And yet, there was still something wrong here.
In the distance, just above the peaks of the trees, the Doctor could see the massive radar dish that pinpointed Montauk Airforce Station, its cold, grey structure jutting out into the sky like it was beckoning someone; or something.
The Doctor nodded towards it and began to make his way across the grass to a nearby path. As he walked, he turned so that he was actually walking backwards to talk to Martha. "They do mind control here you know! Lots of flashing images and Bob's your uncle." He snapped his fingers for effect. "You could find yourself running naked up the Statue of Liberty!"
"Yeah well, I don't plan on letting them poke around in my head, thanks."
The Doctor grinned. "Quite right! Very nice head it is too!"
He looked at Martha, but the smile on his face wasn't quite as genuine as it could have been. Was he doing it again? Was he dragging someone along against their will until they got hurt or worse?
Donna flashed before his eyes and he saw the look of desperation on her face just before he'd wiped her memory forever.
He should have left Martha alone – left her to live a real, normal life.
Just because he tended to act a little manically – well maybe more than a little – didn't meant he was stupid. Martha had feelings for him, always had, and they were feelings he couldn't return.
Not after Rose.
He got too close to the blonde. Allowed his feelings to cloud his judgement like no time lord ever should.
They reached the edge of the cobbled path and he stopped, putting a hand on Martha's forearm so that she'd actually stop and listen. It wasn't very often he got serious – he hated to be serious – but there was a time and a place and this needed to be done.
"Martha…you don't have to go in there with me. You could stay back in the TARDIS."
Martha looked affronted and the glint in her eyes said she actually thought he was still joking around. "Yeah, right, stuff me in the police box while you have all the fun!" She opened her mouth to continue and then stopped. Eventually, she punched him lightly in the shoulder. "No way, Mister, you're not leaving me behind! Smith and Jones all the way…got it?"
The Doctor smiled again, but there was just a hint of hesitation as he resumed his gentle amble along the pathway. Next time a Dalek master goads you, stuff in some ear plugs, he chided subconsciously.
"So, you never finished telling me about this place?"
"Oh, it's lovely! Just lovely…if you're into the whole guinea pig thing, at any rate." The Doctor stopped again as they reached the edge of the treeline where a tarmac road converged with the edge of the path. He glanced up at the dish now filling the skyline. "It's rumoured they used the 410 MHz - 420 MHz signals from the dish to influence the human mind."
"Sort of a mechanical, government-controlled Svengali…" Martha shuddered. "But what does that have to do with the past turning into The Day After Tomorrow? I mean, this place existed in our original timeline, so what have they done different, and why?"
The Doctor began to trudge along the verge at the side of the roadway. In the distance, the guarded gates to Montauk were coming into view at the base of the tower.
"It must be the continuation of Project Rainbow," he theorized looking slightly vague. "Magnetic field manipulation. Unified field theory…but wait, no…right…that still wouldn't account for the new energy source powering the Rift…" He clicked his fingers in midair. "Outside intervention! Has to be!"
"You think someone came here and gave these people future technologies just so the past could get frozen," Martha reasoned. "That doesn't make sense. In fact, it's mad."
"Bonkers!" The Doctor agreed. "But since when has that stopped the megalomaniacs of the Universe?"
He stopped again, this time grabbing Martha's arm and pulling her behind a short length of shrubbery just in time to hide them from an approaching vehicle.
The black Chevy sedan breezed past with two black-suited men sitting stiffly on the front bench seat like they were mannequins. The car's number plates indicated it was a government vehicle, although the designation did little to reveal which organization within the hierarchy.
"Wow, real life men in black!" Martha peered over the Doctor's shoulder as the Bel Air melted into the distance, Bowie's Starman filtering through one of its open windows.
The Doctor scratched at his ear absently. "Really? Didn't look anything like Will Smith to me." He dived energetically from behind the bushes and began padding in the direction the car had taken. "And they like Bowie too! Old friend of mine is Ziggy…"
Martha gaped. "You're kidding me? David Bowie's an alien?"
The Doctor scowled as if Martha really didn't listen, but then the frown broke into a decidedly loopy grin. "Nah, just inspired by one! Me! Who do you think Starman is all about then? 'Course I knew I shouldn't have let him into the TARDIS after that gig…was cleaning up for a week…"
Martha looked the Doctor up and down as if appraising him. "Yeah, well, I can definitely see where Space Oddity came from then…"
The Doctor feigned an affronted expression. "Oi!" But then nodded towards the looming gates and the six foot four guard with just a little bit more seriousness. "Time for the psychic paper to work its wonders, Martha Jones!"
The Airforce MP stepped forwards as if he was the psychic one, effectively blocking their path with his burly frame and outstretched M16 rifle.
"This is government property. Airforce personal only." The guard's voice was deep and deadly serious, as if he practiced in front of a mirror every night just to get the tone right.
His eyes locked with the Doctor's as if he expected the somewhat skinny little man to balk at his presence, but the Doctor simply grinned at him. "'Course it is! That's why we're here!"
He flipped open the wallet holding the psychic paper and stuffed it confidently under the MP's nose. "Professor John Smith and my assistant, Martha Jones. Here from Langley to do a spot check…"
The guard threw a glance over his shoulder to another airman sitting in a security booth at the side of the gate. He didn't speak, but it looked like some unspoken words were shared between them with just one look.
"We have no paperwork for a John Smith. No authorization from Mr Tesla means no entry." The M16 seemed to suddenly move in the airman's hands until it was pointed forwards ready to fire, and he squared up to the Doctor, chin jutting out as if he was just itching for a confrontation.
"Well…obviously …that's why it's a spot check!" The Doctor waggled his finger in front of the airman defiantly, but in his free hand he began to discreetly work the sonic screwdriver.
"And your accent," the guard grumbled. "Not exactly what I'd expect from Langley…"
Martha stepped forwards to join the Doctor. "We've been brought in as independent assessors. Torchwood," she offered, using the name like it should mean something.
The guard's face creased in uncertainty, but before he could argue further the gate behind him buzzed open. He whirled to look at his friend in the gate room, but the man seemed too busy with the console in front of him to look up.
"Right then! Nice meeting you, but we have spots to check on!" The Doctor grabbed Martha's hand and dragged her past the guard before anything else could be said.
Diving into the first building that afforded itself as cover, he sonicked the electronic door lock open and breathlessly pushed through the entrance with Martha in tow.
"Okay, so that was just weird," Martha observed, rubbing her arm when he finally let go. "That soldier was acting like …like he knew what was going on. Like he knew what his mate in the gate room was thinking without actually asking about us…"
The Doctor nodded. "They've been conducting psychic experiments here for years. Using the dish signals, remember?" He began to pace. "Nothing this big, though…must be the Rift energy…and it's getting stronger…"
"Which means what?"
"When I first encountered the Rift back in Cardiff, I met a young girl – Gwyneth. She'd been exposed to the Rift's energy since childhood and she'd developed psychic powers…" He paused, suddenly all scientist. "But with whatever is augmenting the Rift now…oh, this could be very, very bad…exposure could change people…I mean literally change people…"
"What, like give them different personalities? Give them all these psychic gifts? Not to mention blow a hole in the past and freeze it over…"
The Doctor shook his head. "Maybe worse…maybe a lot, lot lot…" He stopped mid-sentence, rethinking his next move. "We need to find the project room. Shut it down before it's too late!"
Flicking tiny settings on the sonic screwdriver, its blue tip began to pulsate.
"We can do that? Shut down a project this big, I mean?"
"Oh yes!" He looked almost cheery, despite the circumstances. "I've set this to search out the temporal disturbance. The closer we get, the faster it flashes. Once we find the energy powering the Rift, we shut it down, destroy the rogue technology fuelling it and…"
"And be home for supper," Martha finished for him.
The Doctor didn't even seem to hear.
Instead, he'd already dashed halfway down the white-walled corridor, hand outstretched as the screwdriver throbbed faster and faster.
"Alons-Y, Martha Jones!"
Racing through a top secret government facility without clearance, and definitely without any kind of backup hadn't been on Martha's to do list – at least not when she got out of bed this morning.
And yet, here she was stuck in 1972 trying to stop the world freezing to death.
In retrospect, maybe working for U.N.I.T. or Torchwood might be a quieter life than this…
Pausing when the Doctor stopped to examine his screwdriver, Martha glanced around their position.
So far, all they'd come across was corridor after corridor filled with endless rooms and endless experiments. Animal cages, control rooms, ancient looking mainframes that were no doubt state of the art in this era.
But no Project Rainbow.
The Doctor was convinced the experiment was close at hand now, but Martha wasn't so easily swayed they could actually shut it down.
The US government, or whoever really called the shots here, wasn't about to just up and close down just because two people from the future dropped in and asked them to.
Of course, the Doctor had the brains to stop the project short term, but disabling it might not stop Montauk rebuilding.
Should I even be worrying about this stuff? Martha glanced at the ceiling and cringed when she spotted a security camera.
"Just how did we get past that guard, anyway?" she asked casually. "One minute he was all business, right? And the next he was dazed and confused, and the gate was opening…"
The Doctor wiggled his eyebrows and waved the sonic under Martha's nose. "They use the dish frequencies to mess with the human mind…I just messed with the frequencies and abracadabra, or Open Sesame…or…come into my parlour…" He shrugged. "Or maybe not the last one…"
Martha pointed towards the motorized camera that was fortunately not pointing in their direction. "So, it won't work on that, yeah? Because sooner or later I'm betting that guard is gonna start questioning letting us in…"
"Disabled those when we first came inside. Signals, frequencies, all the same when you need to cut them off…few zaps from this setting right here and…" The Doctor mumbled as he fiddled further with the screwdriver. "A-ha! Here we go…the Rift should be right…" He stepped into the next corridor, straight into the face of an awaiting guard. "Around this corner…"
Martha bumped into the Doctor's back as she followed his lead, and the pair almost squashed the poor MP before he'd had chance to confront them.
Martha should have known better than to just walk around without caution.
She'd had military training. She'd fought with the best.
But then, the Doctor's erratic, devil-may-care attitude tended to be infectious.
Add to that his strange behaviour after they'd arrived here and she'd been thrown totally off kilter.
"Martha…you don't have to go in there with me. You could stay back in the TARDIS."
That was so unlike him.
"Hello there!" The Time Lord's voice filtered through her thoughts, bringing her back to the present.
He was standing, hands in pockets, grinning at the MP as if the airman should be expecting him.
The young hazel-eyed blond squirmed under the Doctor's gaze, moving his weapon's strap, but not attempting to strike a more defensive pose – at least not yet, at any rate.
"This is security level 1. Authorized staff only." The MP fixed his eyes on Martha rather than continue appraising the Doctor.
With one look, Martha could tell the intense stare he was getting from the Gallifreyan was doing nothing for his nerves. The man was sweating hard, a thin sheen of perspiration covering his face as his chest rose and fell just a little too rapidly. Okay, so I hope it's just the Doctor's stare…
"We're here for the spot checks." The Doctor flashed the psychic paper once again, never once hesitating. "Professor John Smith…"
"We're from Torchwood," Martha added, keeping a close watch on the MP's now shaking hands in case he reached for his weapon.
"I…I should call this in…" He glanced over his shoulder to a red phone hanging on the wall by the project room door.
To Martha, the device looked huge compared to her modern day mobile, but if the guard used it, it could be just as dangerous.
"Now what would you want to do that for?" The Doctor stepped forward, slipping away the paper and its wallet. "We're here now…may as well let us in and get it done with…" His voice was low, almost hypnotic, and to Martha it reminded her of Alec Guinness pulling his Jedi mind trick.
"Get it done with…" The MP mimicked, slowly turning about face to punch in a key code by the door. "…may as well let you in…"
"That's right! Jolly good!" The Doctor patted the man on the back as if he'd taught a puppy a new trick and then quickly bounded through the project room entrance as it slid open.
Martha followed, mouth agape as the door whooshed closed again behind them. "I don't believe what I just saw. You've so been watching too many George Lucas films…"
The Doctor smirked and then winked. "Worked, didn't it? Besides…always fancied myself with a lightsaber…" He glanced around the thankfully empty room, noting that a low hum was emanating from a bank of mainframes on the left wall. Darting over to the massive computer banks, he slid on his thick-rimmed glasses and began to assimilate information far faster than any human could.
"So, you could manipulate that guard because of all the weird signals this place is giving off, yeah?"
The Doctor poked a circuit board with his forefinger and then quickly retreated when he was showered in a flare of orange sparks. "Something like that…ooh, now this is odd…no, not odd, interestingly odd…" He jogged sideways to scrutinize a small green screen with thousands of flashing segments of code. "The Rift's effects are getting worse. Someone here is increasing the energy input exponentially until…"
"Until what?" From the Doctor's expression, Martha was sure it wasn't any kind of good 'until'.
"Until we soon won't be able to stop it. People will go mad – change into…into…" He blinked, looking vaguely at the wall like it was a quantum singularity. "Into things," he finally decided. "'Course, the past will completely freeze over by that stage, so they technically won't be things for very long, but…"
"But we're going to stop it, right? I mean, right now, you can shut this thing down, yeah?"
The Doctor flipped several huge buttons and looked at the readouts again. He raised a brow as if something was puzzling him. "We can't just turn an off switch," he eventually explained. "We have to power it down gradually – and that's going to take time."
Martha dared to smile, just a little. "Well, if there's one thing we have plenty of it's time – I mean, Time Lord, right?"
The Doctor huffed as if he suddenly didn't deserve the title, and then bounded across the room to face two huge metal doors that looked like they belonged in an aircraft hangar, not a lab.
He glared at the access hatches a moment longer and then pulled back a lever in the wall with a quick yank that told Martha he was far from happy.
The titanium barriers began to squeal as they slid back on huge metal runners inset in the floor.
It took just two minutes for the plates to vanish altogether into two orifices in the concrete walls.
What greeted them the other side was far beyond anything Martha could have imagined.
The second, hidden half of the room seemed to have been engulfed by a huge vortex of colour that swirled absently. And the pulsing maelstrom appeared almost alive, its epicentre throbbing with energy that filled the air in the form of static.
The Doctor reached out a hand towards the mass and tiny spikes of electricity bounced from his fingertips.
"It's beautiful!" He turned to Martha, shaking his head. "Beautiful, but oh so very deadly…"
"So this is like some huge time/space tunnel tearing into the Universe?" Martha put a foot forward and felt her whole body repelled by the sheer power of the eddy oozing from the thing.
The Doctor nodded. "And it shouldn't be here. Some very naughty person has been poking their nose into a timeline that doesn't belong to them." He pointed to a bizarre-looking lump of metal that seemed to be bleeding energy into the Rift through a network of wires and conduits along the floor, walls and ceiling.
"Looks like we might be dealing with some totally freaky green aliens trying to fry the galaxy after all then?"
The Doctor shrugged and strode purposefully over to the jury-rigged generator that burbled innocently despite its nature. He kneeled at its side, taking in every nut, every bolt, every alien piece of technology that allowed it to function.
Martha tried to follow, but as she grew closer to the vortex, the pressure on her body intensified until she felt nauseous and lightheaded. Only the Doctor's own alien attributes saved him from the discomfort.
He looked up as Martha leaned over, taking deep breaths to quell the sickness now rising in her stomach. "Better not come any closer…too much exposure, even for a short while might be….well…not a good idea."
Martha nodded. "Now you tell me…" She wiped the back of her arm across her brow, thinking of the soldier outside. How much of this had he been exposed too? How much had he already been changed? "So, what have you found? Sontaran, Slitheen, what?"
The Doctor sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Ooh, I'm afraid it's worse than that. A lot worse…" Striding back to Martha he began tinkering with the sonic's setting once again. "I don't know who built this thing, but they're using a vortex manipulator and some other very interesting pieces of technology to fuel it…very clever…no, wait, not just very clever…genius almost…"
Martha couldn't help but grin. "And here I thought you were the only genius in the room."
He cocked his head. "Well…since you mention it…"
"So, basically we have an alien mastermind running around 1972 Earth with stolen pieces of alien technology trying to blow us all up?"
The Doctor frowned, taking another long glance at the generator and then the bank of computers on the wall behind him. The mainframes chirped in response to his gaze, huge reels of tape whirling around as they processed thousands of variables.
"I don't think this was built as a weapon…no…that's a side effect, a ripple, an unexpected event…an anomaly, a…"
"But still, whoever built this shouldn't be here, and they must know what damage they're doing, yeah?" Martha paused as if something had just hit her. "Vortex manipulator? Isn't that a Time Agent's standard equipment?"
The Doctor nodded. "Messy things…no control per se, you just zap off and hope you land in the right century. 'Course, whoever adapted this one has accounted for all the possible differentials as well as the temporal drift…"
"But who and why?" Martha didn't actually care about the why as long as they could stop the planet, timeline and Universe from imploding, but if they couldn't, then it would be nice to know exactly who had caused the human race's demise.
The Doctor whirled, brown overcoat flaring out with the speed of the motion. His eyes sparked with both mirth and intrigue and he stared at the security door they'd entered via and then nodded.
"Dunno," he admitted. "But I think the Big Cheese is headed our way, so we're about to find out!" He clasped his hands together excitedly.
"Doctor, that's actually a bad thing. As in we're about to get caught!"
"Is it? Oh, right!" He grabbed Martha's wrist without further ado and swiftly dragged her across the room, pulling her into a small niche behind the banks of computers they'd pored over only moments earlier.
The space was tight, almost claustrophobic, and Martha could feel the Doctor's twin heartbeats as she huddled in next to him. Unlike her own, the throbbing was still unhurried, and when she looked up into his eyes all she saw was amusement, not fear. Doesn't he ever get scared?
But deep down, she knew he did.
She closed her eyes, not wanting to remember the time when he had said the words to her, but the memory of a starship close to burning up came anyway.
"I'm scared…I'm so scared…"
Martha hoped she never heard him utter those words again.
From within the room a hiss signalled the security door had opened and someone was entering. From the angle they were jammed into the crevice, there was no way they could see the newcomers, but they could hear them.
"And you're sure our prisoner is still confined to his cell?" The voice was crisp and commanding, like the man had been giving orders all his life rather than taking them.
"Yes, sir, Mr Tesla. I checked on him myself. He isn't going anywhere."
"Then how do you explain the unauthorized access to the Schism? I gave explicit orders…"
"The guard insists no one passed into this room, sir…"
The Doctor grinned and Martha couldn't help but join him. Apparently, Time Lords were pretty good at Jedi mind control.
Tesla wasn't so impressed. "I want the facility locked down. Every inch secured by manned patrols. Don't trust the security systems…" He moved towards the wormhole that appeared to have been labelled 'the Schism', hands clasped behind his back.
And finally, from the angle he was standing, Martha and the Doctor got a clear view of their enemy.
Nikola Tesla appeared to be in his mid-sixties. He was just under six feet tall and had lost most of his hair, only thin areas of grey remaining above his ears. His features were sharp and angular, and his eyes as piercing as the Daruthian sun.
Tesla stared into the heart of the vortex, standing closer than even the Doctor had dared. After a moment, he sighed and turned back to the lieutenant who had entered with him.
"If anyone else is allowed to enter this room without my authorization, I want the man on duty removed, permanently. Do I make myself clear?"
The officer's throat bobbed, but he nodded. "Crystal clear, sir."
Tesla's eyes fixed on the airman for just a split second, then he frowned and whirled to gaze at the bank of computers the Doctor and Martha were hiding behind.
The mainframes continued to hum and buzz, and eventually the scientist seemed satisfied. Striding to the console the Doctor had examined, he checked several readouts and then strode briskly from the room with the MP in tow.
As the door hissed closed behind the two men, the Doctor bobbed from his hiding place and scratched at his head absently. "I'd heard the rumours, but this is incredible! No…wait, not incredible, it's it's…"
"Who is he?" Martha butted in, not wanting to wait while the Time Lord rambled for another two sentences.
"Nikola Tesla was a genius, a man of vision, a scientist, one of the greatest electrical engineers of his time…and then there's his work in electromagnetism…and…"
"Was, as in past tense?" Martha's brow shot up.
"Well…" The Doctor shrugged. "He died in 1943 at the age of eighty-six…"
"He looks pretty good for a guy who's been dead for nearly thirty years." Martha put a hand on her hip. "Even if his death was a cover up, he couldn't look like that…"
"Try telling him that!" The Doctor began to study the console again as if the new information somehow helped him solve the puzzle. His dark eyes danced over the codes displayed, and every few seconds he fidgeted with the glasses now hanging from the edge of his nose.
"Maybe he's come up with some kind of Lazarus device?" Martha theorized. "If not, and he isn't some species of alien, then how can he be over a hundred and look like that?"
"Really good moisturizer? I mean, really, really, really good moisturizer?"
Martha ignored the quip. "It's not like he's the guy from Highlander or anything…"
The Doctor's left brow ticked up, followed by his right. "Hope not," he mumbled vaguely. "Don't want to have to lop his head off. Ooh…that could be messy, messy, messy…." He stopped tinkering with the controls and looked up, eyes narrowing. "…and I don't think the sonic screwdriver is up to it…"
"So, who is he?"
"Too ugly to be Peter Pan. How about Methuselah? No wait…not old enough…"
"But he's the one who made the timeline change, yeah? I mean he's obviously in charge here. And just who is this prisoner?" Martha leaned over to see what the Doctor was doing, but he'd already whipped off his glasses and began to jog across the room.
"Don't know who or what Tesla is…or even if he is Tesla, come to think of it. Methinks it's time to find the mystery prisoner and offer them a get out of gaol for free card." The Doctor cocked his head. "Unless he's a weevil…might have to leave him there then…not good to have weevils on the loose ya know!"
"Yeah, but don't we have to worry about getting out of here first, anyway?"
The Doctor grinned.
He never did worry about anything.
Travelling through the complex warren of corridors that made up the underground section of Montauk wasn't easy. While the psychic paper had helped their initial entrance, Tesla now had every guard on the base looking for them – and most of these airmen had their own brand of psychic skills.
Still, so far the Doctor had managed to steer clear of all the patrols and head in the general direction of the confinement area.
He'd taken out six sets of cameras and four security doors with the sonic screwdriver and was currently working on the fifth.
"There!" He exclaimed as the latch clicked open. "Piece of cake!"
"Maybe you should take up cat burglary?" Martha suggested as she slid inside.
The Doctor scrunched up his face. "Not really into cats…why would I want to start stealing them…?"
Martha rolled her eyes but didn't answer. It appeared they'd dodged inside the passageway leading to the cells, and only one more door separated them from their elusive inmate.
The only problem was, there were two armed guards standing watch outside the chamber and both were over six feet tall and armed with rifles – rifles Martha had no doubt they'd use after Tesla's recent order.
"I don't suppose the Jedi trick would work on those two?"
The Doctor shook his head.
"Thought so," Martha sighed and looked around the section of corridor they were standing in. One wall had a rack filled with white lab coats, and they reminded her of a time when she'd worn something similar back at the Royal Hope Hospital.
That all seemed such a long time ago now, even though it wasn't.
On a whim, Martha plucked one of the coats down, but it was two sizes too large. She tried again, until the fourth lab coat actually fit her.
"Um…what are you doing?"
Martha stuck a hand in the Doctor's overcoat pocket and fished around until her fingers clasped the psychic paper. "Playing doctor," she beamed. "You can lock that door permanently with the screwdriver if you need to, right?" She bobbed at the still open security door they'd just 'jimmied'.
"Well yes, but…" For once, he looked clearly perplexed.
"Good." Martha turned and headed straight for the two guards. "Now just stand back and watch this doctor do her magic…"
The Doctor stepped back and let his back lean against the wall, hiding himself in the shadows. He grinned, folding his arms and following Martha's orders to simply watch.
Martha had no clue if the Doctor would do as she'd asked, but somehow she could feel the heat radiating from the ear-to-ear grin she just knew he was wearing.
He may be the most unpredictable man on the planet – no, in the Universe – but his expressions? Well she could read them like a book.
Smiling to herself, even though she was getting a knot in her stomach, Martha picked up the pace until she was almost running. She had to look harried if this plan was going to work.
Skidding into the next section of corridor, she held up the psychic paper as she approached the guards. "Dr Martha Jones, G Wing," she identified herself. "There are two unauthorized intruders in section H!" Pointing back towards the Doctor, she began to ramble, hoping the men where already on the alert after Tesla's orders. "Hurry, I think they're trying to get into the main project room!"
The MP on the left instantly flicked the strap of his weapon off his shoulder, taking a more aggressive pose, but he didn't move.
"Hurry! What are you two waiting for? If they get inside, Mr Tesla will want blood…"
The mention of Tesla seemed to strike fear into the hearts of both men, as if he were more than just a project leader. Martha could see the terror in their eyes and the panic form on their stoic faces as if she'd condemned them to death already.
"Show us," the first guard commanded, ushering Martha back in the direction she'd come with his rifle.
"We shouldn't leave the prisoner…" The second man was hesitating, throwing wary glances back at the hatch in the cell door. "We were given explicit instructions from the lieutenant."
The first MP grunted. "I'll take Tesla's orders over the LT's anytime." He slid up to the cell hatch and took a peek at the prisoner. Satisfied their captive wasn't going anywhere, he pointed with the rifle barrel again, wiping sweat from his brow with one arm as he spoke. "Alright, doctor, show us…"
Martha nodded and turned tail, her mind screaming that both soldiers were perspiring heavily. And she hadn't missed how badly the one pointing the gun's hands had been shaking as he'd barked at her, either.
Were they that scared of Tesla? Or was she witnessing even more effects from the Rift, or Schism, or whatever the dang thing was called?
The physician in her ignored the implications and possibilities and she carried on back towards the security door. As she rounded the corner, there was no sign of the Doctor – at least not until she took a second look.
He was hiding in the shadows, just a hint of his brown overcoat showing if she squinted in the dull fluorescent lighting. "Through there," she yelled, feigning a hint of panic. "I don't know if they're armed…"
The two airmen seemed to react to the alarm in her voice and pushed past her, barrelling into the passageway ahead without even thinking they were being led astray.
As soon as the second man's legs had passed over the threshold of the security door, the Doctor bounded from the shadows and slapped the emergency seal with the palm of his hand.
The metal groaned as it slid back into place, the hydraulics hissing melodramatically like some wild sci-fi movie effect.
From beyond the door, Martha could already hear the MPs shouting in protest as they'd realized the deception. Within seconds, a loud knocking signalled one of them was bashing at the door with his weapon in a futile attempt to gain access.
And while the men shouted, the Doctor worked, flicking settings on the sonic screwdriver to permanently lock the guards out of the section.
"There!" he exclaimed. "It's like the Bastille in here now!"
Martha wasn't impressed. "And look how that ended…besides, I don't want to get stuck in a prison!"
"Not to worry!" The Doctor smiled breezily, heading off for the cells. "I'm sure there's a back door! There's always a back door! Or a trap door, or a tunnel, or an escape pod…or bars you can chew through…"
"Chew through?" Martha asked breathlessly as she darted after the Doctor.
"Or maybe I'm thinking of a Mars Bar then…" He stopped in front of the metal door and frowned, as if he was uncertain of what to do next. Taking a step forward, he closed one eye and peeked through the open hatch.
After a second, he backed up and blinked. "Riiighttt…." He mumbled slowly, as if he wasn't entirely assimilating what he'd seen.
Then he fell silent, simply staring at the hatch with one brow raised.
If Martha hadn't known better, she'd have said the Doctor was speechless – except he was never speechless. By his own admission he had a 'big gob'.
But now, now he was peculiarly quiet, and the odd expression that had seeped across his face was equally puzzling.
Was he surprised, upset, scared?
Martha pushed past the Time Lord and stood on tiptoes to get a view of the prisoner, and then her eyes widened….
TBC...