-1The Doctor and Martha sat at a table in a large amphitheater, together with around 100 Amehans. The Doctor stretched his legs across another chair with Martha sitting beside him. The curtain had not yet risen, and Martha was observing a group of aliens sitting down at a table across from them. They looked reptilian, with patches of fur seemingly at random on their skin. What she found most interesting was the painstaking effort that was put into styling the tufts. Curled, straightened, gelled and spiked, the hair under ordinary circumstances would have been the most absurd thing about them.
"So Doctor," Martha asked, "What's the deal with that lot?"
"Hmm?" The Doctor replied, looking over. "Oh. Now that is strange." He leaned forward to take a closer look. Martha waited, but he didn't answer. He simply sat, gaping at them.
"Doc-" She began.
"As much as I really, truly, deeply hate to admit this," The Doctor said with a troubled look upon his face, "I don't know what they are. But, it is good to see they have equally as poor eyesight under these conditions as we do."
Martha nodded. "So that's what the helmets are for."
"Well, I'm actually not sure, to be honest. Could be a re-breather unit, some sort of atmospheric converter, or even a translation device." The Doctor continued to stare at the strange group of aliens, a total of three, while speaking. "Thing is though, hard to tell what they are without being able to see their faces."
Slowly and together, as if it were choreographed, the aliens all turned to face the doctor. Their strange helmets emitted little heat, and the only way to see their heads at all was to watch the puffs of warm air being vented, halo-like, from around their necks. A long narrow visor wrapped around the helmet,
Martha looked away. "Ok, so that was creepy."
"A bit unexpected, yes." The Doctor said.
"Amehans, and other assorted races, may I have your attention please!" Came a voice. Unnoticed by the Doctor or Martha, a large Amehan had come up to center stage. "Due to a technical difficulty that cannot be resolved, I must announce that today's performance has been cancelled."
"What? Cancelled?" Came the reverberating cries from the crowd. While the majority of those present protested the cancellation, the group of three helmeted aliens stood up together, and walked out. The Doctor watched them go, spinning the sonic in his hand.
"Well Doctor," Said Martha, "What do you think - " She turned away from the Amehan announcer to see the Doctor already gone, following the three aliens. She sighed, and went to run after him, but he had pulled too far away. She strained with her new vision to find him, and found it wasn't hard finding the only two hearted creature close by. Still far though, she thought tiredly, and gave chase.
The Doctor ran up a broad passage that had arced off the main boulevard, his trench coat trailing behind him. They had seen him, and ran. That made it even more interesting - he wasn't large or intimidating, so why would they run? Either they had something to hide, or they knew who he was, he reasoned as the grade of the hill became more severe. After running for easily 10 minutes, the Doctor began to feel weary - he could still see his quarry, but where were they going? Finally, the tunnel flattened out, and the Doctor realized where he had been lead - right back to the same entrance that sat beside the TARDIS.
"Oh no you don't." He muttered as he rushed up the ladder. He threw open the hatch and only had a split second to realize his mistake. He grabbed his glasses and threw them as he howled with pain, holding his face in his hands as he threw himself forwards, legs still dangling down the shaft as he balanced on the edge laying on his stomach. The fall had knocked the wind out of him, and he winced as he slowly picked himself up, and looked around. One of the aliens was standing only a half a meter away, holding his glasses. It extended them out to him.
The Doctor dusted himself off before reaching for the glasses which the alien still held out. It still wore the strange helmet, but in the light the Doctor could finally see it clearly. Thick, heavy scales covered the majority it's body, except for the ridiculously styled patches of fur that clung randomly across its body. The creatures hands were boney with long, tapered fingers ending in points. Not claws, but the bone jutting out from the flesh.
"Thank you." The Doctor said, tucking his glasses back in his breast pocket. The alien regarded him silently.
The Doctor looked around. "So," he began, "Where have your friends-" He stared. The other two aliens clung absurdly to the sides of the TARDIS, their bone-claws ripping into the wood as they held on, presumably for dear life. He scratched his head, bringing his hand down to tug on his ear.
"Right, so what's all this about?" He asked the alien in front of him. He stepped closer until he was inches from the alien, looking straight into the visor. It did not flinch nor back up, but rather simply continued to observe him. It bothered the Doctor to not be able to look the creature in the eyes.
Their staring contest was broken by a scream. The Doctor spun around to see Martha throw herself from the ladder onto the ground. She was holding her eyes and moaning, kicking her feet as she struggled to stand without moving her hands from her face. He came to her side and helped her up.
"My eyes..." She moaned. "I didn't think... I just opened the hatch, and the sun... the heat..."
"It'll be all right. Here." He said, producing both the sonic and his glasses. He ran the instrument over them, the glass glowing a bright molten blue. "Put these on." He instructed. She reached out blindly with one hand and the Doctor pressed the folded glasses in her hand. She quickly put them on, and opened her eyes slowly.
"Hi." She said sheepishly, dusting herself off before freezing at the sight of the alien and his companions, still clinging to the side of the TARDIS.
" 'ello." He said, smiling. "Not a bad look you know. Might want to take you shopping for a pair after all this."
"Doctor..." She began, still looking at the aliens.
"Yes." He nodded, squinting at the alien in front of him. "First things first and all that."
He looked sternly at the alien. "Why did you run from me?"
The creature observed him silently, and then reached up and cautiously unhitched latches holding the helmet in place. He lifted it off. Huge, deep set jet black eyes regarded the Doctor and Martha from a face heavily scared with bone jutting out at the chin and cheeks. Martha couldn't see a nose, or a mouth for that matter. The thick scales seemed tattered and worn, and were nearly translucent on its forehead.
"Oh." The Doctor sighed. He stared sadly at the creature. "I'm sorry."
"What is it?" Martha whispered.
"Shhhhh." He said, his gaze never breaking from the creature in front of him, which despite the lace of facial features seemed clearly embarrassed to be seen.
"I'm the Doctor, but I suspect you knew that. I can help you, but first I need to know what's wrong." He raised a hand, and gestured to the alien's temples. "May I?"
The alien nodded slowly. He slowly raised his hands to the creature's temples, and placed them softly upon it. It's skin was cool, and he saw gills along it's neck involuntarily flex at his touch. He closed his eyes.
"If there is anything you don't wish me to see, I need you to imagine a door, or a wall. Close it from me." He instructed. The alien complied. In his mind's eye, the Doctor saw the space available to him shrink. But one memory seemed to glow through the door. A large building, with many people. Still, he dove further into the alien's memories, choosing the ignore the memory. If he really needed to know, it would tell him.
He saw himself. A great metal wall was rising up to reveal himself, scanning the area intently. The Doctor then reached forward, but not towards the alien. The scene shifted and the alien had turned it's head to watch him open a large medical tank. The waters rushed out, and the Doctor barely caught Martha as she hit the floor. She was unconscious and barely breathing. He held her, then carefully picked her up and carried her out of the creatures range of vision. The wave of anger, the pressure of abandonment and rejection were like a physical blow. He took a step back, breaking the link.
"You didn't run from me. You ran from her."
The alien nodded, it's eyes glistening.
The Doctor stood, hands in pockets. His head hurt. How had he let Martha be captured, and why was this creature along side her? Why hadn't he taken all of the prisoners with him?
"My species is receptive to telepathic communication, even if I can't reply in kind." He stated.
The alien closed it's eyes, and relaxed. "Doctor." She said, a whisper.
The Doctor frowned at Martha. "Just wait." He said.
"But I didn't say anything!" Martha protested.
"Doctor." The whisper came again, and the alien reached out and touched his hand.
His eyes opened wide, as the realization of the gravity of the situation hit him. "I'm sorry." He said to the alien, and then he turned to Martha. "I'm so sorry."
"What are you sorry for?" Martha asked, clearly perplexed.
"I..." He began, then stopped, reconsidering his words. "Martha, this creature has had a complete psychograft clone of your mind placed upon it. She's you."
"No. No, were it me, wouldn't it cause the universe to implode or something now that we're together?" She asked, even more confused than before.
"She's not you, but a copy, so no paradox. But you and she have the same memories, the exact same mind."
"So it's safe?" They both asked at the same time. The Doctor under other circumstances might have found it amusing.
"Yes, perfectly, but certainly this complicates the situation. First the Amehans develop a taste for clothes, and now this lot following us here." He looked over at the other two aliens. "Who are they?" he asked the clone.
"They were taken prisoner with me." She responded. Her voice was so much like Martha's, but sounded as if she were always in pain. "We don't talk about who we were. All they needed to know is that I knew someone who could fix us."
"And why did you come here? Why now?" He asked, looking intently into the creatures eyes. The intense black was like a starless sky.
"Because as it happened, I left the table to get drinks, and you were alone. That's when we planned to speak to you." She said, her voice taking on more volume and depth in his mind. "But then the performance was cancelled. It didn't happen like that before."
The Doctor stood silently, hands in pockets. Martha still gaped in disbelief at the creature. It couldn't possibly be her. Not that... thing, she thought.
"Tell you what," The Doctor began. "Let's sort this out on the TARDIS. I can't help unless I can see what races you are made of. Well, clearly human, but what else..." He placed both hands on the creatures sloping shoulders, then brought one to it's chin. "I will help you, Martha Jones." He spoke quietly and sincerely, their eyes locked before the clone broke the stare. It loped off to the TARDIS, and her companions slowly climbed off the ship, and removed their helmets. Their eyes were also a deep black, with the same jutting bone and thick scales.
"Thank you, Doctor. Thank you." Came their thoughts.
"Right, c'mon Martha." The Doctor said. Both the clone and the original looked at him. The Doctor sighed. "C'mon Marthas." He said, smiling. "And you two too! In you go!" He laughed, opening the door to the TARDIS. The real Martha, as she'd come to think of herself, waited until the clones entered. She tugged the arm of the Doctors trench as he went to step in.
"I'm going to become her?" She asked, clearly worried.
"I'm going to save you, Martha. I've seen it happen. But not before she comes to be."
"But... it's..." She began slowly. "It's disgusting."
The Doctor scowled. "You know," He began in an exasperated tone, "Your lot's habit of being so caught up in the way you look is really distasteful. She's you." He emphasized. "She's you. If you think you're unhappy, think about her. Because the way you feel about thinking about being her is the way she actually feels, and it's easily a hundred times worse than imagining it."
Martha stood in stunned silence.
"Martha, I'm not sure if I can prevent her from coming into existence. If I did, in effect, I'd be executing her. She'd fade." He said sadly. "Right in front of us." He was angry, his eyes seemingly burning holes into her, and Martha refused to meet them.
"But what if she asked you to?" She asked quietly.
The Doctor 's eyes widened ever so slightly. He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it when he realized he was incapable of expressing his contempt for her at that moment. He strode into the TARDIS, not particularly caring if she followed. When he heard her footsteps behind him and the click of the door shutting, the Doctor was angry at himself for the slight feeling of relief it brought him.