The Ghost of Oberon

PART THREE

The creature screeched at the Doctor. It seemed to be sizing him up before attacking. Take your time, thought the Doctor. Hopefully I'll think of something soon. I usually do. He didn't have many available options. He wasn't a fighter, at least not anymore. Many incarnations back he was skilled at the art of Venusian karate, but that skill was no longer with him. He could try to run past it, but after seeing how quickly that thing killed the guards, he was very apprehensive about that plan. Perhaps I could distract it with the sonic screwdriver, he thought. He shook his head. No, I think it likes high-pitched noises too much. It would probably think I'm trying to mate…or something. He sighed. He had only one weapon left in his arsenal: his mouth.

"Okay, now, let's take a deep breath," he said to the creature. "I don't want to hurt you. I just want to understand you." As he spoke, he stayed perfectly still so as not to give the creature reason to attack. He pointed his hands toward his body. "I'm the Doctor. I'm here to help," he said while opening his hands to the creature. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Invaders," the creature hissed. "Interlopers."

"So you say," said the Doctor. "Who are the invaders? Are you referring to the humans?" The creature began to hiss and make sputtering noises. "Easy there, chief," he said. "Speech doesn't come naturally. Work with Briscoe's mind. You'll get it."

"Bris…coe," said the creature.

The Doctor's face brightened. "That's it," he said. "Keep with it. You're almost there."

"Briscoe…is…human." The creature pointed at the Doctor. "You…are…human."

"Funny story, I'm actually not," said the Doctor. "I look human and sound human, but I'm actually a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey."

"Time…Lord." The creature looked the Doctor over. "You are…friends with humans."

"Well, it's not quite that simple," the Doctor confessed. Realizing that this dialogue was an excellent step in bridging the gap between the creature and himself, it was also starting to go off-course. He tried to bring it back under his control. "Who are you?" he asked. "Where do you come from?"

"I…am…from Oberon," said the creature. "My name…is…Briscoe."

"Somehow I doubt that," said the Doctor. "I think Briscoe's mind is blending with yours. Your thoughts are starting to overlap. I know it's hard, but I need you to push him aside for the moment."

The creature paused. Its mandibles began to twitch. "I…have…no name," it said. "I am from Oberon."

The Doctor nodded. "I'm to assume, then, that your species is not particularly advanced, at least not enough to name your fellow…what would you be called? Oberonians? Oberians?" He thought this over. "Oberian sounds better. I'll go with that."

"Oberian," said the creature. "I am…Oberian."

"Okay, it's official," the Doctor said. "Now for a more difficult question. How did you manage to absorb Briscoe's body like that?"

"I…was…scattered," the Oberian said. "Briscoe…made me whole."

Very cryptic, thought the Doctor. Of course, I'm sure he understands exactly what he's saying, even if he doesn't know how to say it. "What about the rest of your species? Where are they?"

"I do not know," said the Oberian. "I have only recently been conceived."

"Ah!" said the Doctor. "You're still an infant, then. Perhaps Briscoe was serving as a makeshift incubation unit for you, giving you nutrients and allowing you to develop." He sighed. "If that's the case, then that means Briscoe won't be coming back. Of course, that also means he's been gone for a while." He put a hand under his chin and began pondering. "If you've only just been born, that means you probably don't know much about your own people."

"I can feel…a great emptiness," said the Oberian. "I feel as though…I am incomplete."

"A hive mind, perhaps," said the Doctor. "Well, that answers another question." He braced himself for the probable reaction he was going to get from the Oberian. "I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but your people are dead. 'Extinct' is the actual word."

"Extinct?" asked the Oberian.

"Yes. You're the only one left. Of course, I realize I could be wrong, but from what you've said it looks like-"

The Oberian screeched. The Doctor covered his ears and fell to the floor. It was apparent to him that the Oberian did have some sort of emotional connection to its species. As he lay on the floor protecting his ears, the Oberian fled sickbay. The noise stopped instantly, and the Doctor immediately scrambled to his feet. "Wait!" he said. "Come back!" He ran into the hallway and looked around. There was no sign of anyone. "Damn! That thing is fast, I have to admit." He sighed and contemplated his next move. He paused when he heard a faint squeak. It seemed to be near him, but he had already observed that no one was in the hallway. There wouldn't be mice on a space station, so what was that sound? He heard the squeak again. It was coming from his left. He moved a few steps over and stopped. Another squeak, this time louder. It sounded like it was coming from the outer wall. The Doctor knocked on the wall. Silence. He moved his hand to the right and knocked again. He was intrigued to discover the knock was hollow. He took his sonic screwdriver out of his coat and ran it over the area where he knocked. The wall separated to reveal a small recessed area. The Doctor looked towards the floor to find Susie huddled in the corner sobbing. "It's okay, Susie," he said, extending a hand. "The creature's gone."

Susie looked up and pushed her thick black hair out of her eyes. "Are you sure?" she asked, taking the Doctor's hand.

"Yes. I saw it run off." He held her close to comfort her. "That was very resourceful of you, finding a secret hatch."

"I've always been on top of the latest safety protocols," she said. The Doctor gave her a tissue to wipe her eyes. "This is covered in platinum dust," she said.

"Oops. Sorry." The Doctor took it back and handed her a clean one. "I need to find that Oberian before it kills someone else," he said.

"You learned its name?" Susie asked.

"Well, I think we reached a mutual agreement," the Doctor replied. "Truthfully, I'm not so much concerned about it killing somebody as I am about it being killed by somebody."

Susie sniffled. "I can't believe it's happening again," she said.

The Doctor's face turned from comforting to moderately irritated. "You mean this has happened before?"

"About six months ago," Susie explained. "We were entering a new section of the mine. One of the pilots on the dropship said he started hearing voices. No one thought anything of it. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. Then his skin started turning grey like Briscoe's."

"What about the mutation?" asked the Doctor. "Did that happen too?"

"No, but he was just as violent. He killed two medics and a guard." Susie felt pained just telling the story.

"Where is this pilot now?" the Doctor asked, though he felt he already knew the answer.

"After he killed the medics and the guard, three other guards came in and paralyzed him," Susie said. "No one knew what to do, so we contacted Shiva for help. Dravis got the message and instructed us to kill him."

The Doctor growled. If there was any doubt that Dravis wasn't on the level, that doubt had officially been removed. "What did you do with the body?" he asked with a hint of venom.

"We threw it out the airlock," Susie said.

"That explains why he was so quick to order Briscoe out," said the Doctor. He was getting angrier by the second. He looked up and the down hallway for a control panel. When he saw one, he strode to it.

"What are you doing?" asked Susie.

"I'm going to get in touch with Dravis," said the Doctor. "I think I know where he'll be. In the meantime, I need you to do me a favor. Go back to the control center and send a message to Shiva. Tell them that processing station Otomo is off-limits. No ships may enter or leave. I don't want that creature escaping…yet."

"Shiva will want a reason for designating the station off-limits," Susie said.

The Doctor pondered Susie's statement. He knew she was right, but he didn't know what to say. If they knew the truth, they'd probably send a battle cruiser to destroy the station. However, a poorly concealed lie would yield the same result. He hung his head in defeat. There was no answer he could give. "Let's hope they forget to ask for a reason," he said.

Damia was pacing around the room, her state of worry growing with each passing moment. She hadn't heard from the Doctor in almost two hours. What if something's happened? she thought. She decided the best way to take her mind off that morbid thought was to strike up a conversation with Orac. She headed for the table where he sat, but before she could turn him on, the door slid open and Dravis entered. "Mr. Dravis," she said. "I thought—"

Dravis raised a hand to silence her. "The game is up, Miss Derbyshire. I know that you and the Doctor are not special agents from Shiva. I don't know what you really are, and frankly I don't care, because very soon…what you will be is dead."

Damia tried to keep a brave face. "Not if the Doctor has anything to say about it," she said.

Dravis chuckled. "For your information, he won't. He's dead, or at least he will be if that creature in sickbay hasn't had its way with him already."

Damia tried to suppress her shock. "Dead?" was all she could get out.

"Yes, Miss Derbyshire. Fear not, though. Once I've dealt with you and the creature, your bodies will be together as they float onwards to Pluto." Dravis snapped his fingers and two guards entered. "Gentlemen," he said. The guards primed their blasters in unison and raised them at Damia. She began to cry.

"Please don't do this, Dravis," she pleaded.

The room pager chirped. "Hello, Damia? Are you there?" It was the Doctor's voice.

Damia opened her mouth to speak, but closed it for fear that Dravis would kill her on the spot. She glanced in his direction. He nodded in approval. "Yes, Doctor, I'm here," she said feebly.

"Judging by that pause, I'm guessing Dravis and his band of merry men are there with you," said the Doctor with just a touch of smugness.

For the first time, Dravis' face showed surprise. Damia grinned. If there was one thing the Doctor was good for, it was doing the unexpected. Dravis cleared his throat. "Doctor," he said. "You're alive. I'm…impressed."

"Hah. Such unwavering confidence, Dravis," scoffed the Doctor. "No wonder you're a successful businessman."

"Indeed I am, Doctor. That's why I have a proposal for you." Dravis' businesslike air had returned. Damia wondered if he was telling the truth or if this was just false bravado. "I'll let Miss Derbyshire live if you agree to leave quickly and quietly."

"Oh, come on, Dravis," the Doctor said admonishingly. "You can do better than that. Besides, we have a little problem on our hands, namely an Oberian is running loose on this station."

"I can handle that on my own," said Dravis.

"You mean like you handled the last one?" the Doctor said. "Sorry Dravis, no deal. For all I know, that creature is the only one of its kind. I won't let you commit genocide to protect your bottom line."

"You just don't understand, Doctor," Dravis said. "The human race depends on PTMC to provide them with the mineral resources they need. Without us, they wouldn't survive."

"I'm fairly certain they'll get by without any fancy jewelry," the Doctor said. He was clearly becoming agitated. Damia figured it wouldn't be long before he made his 'Listen here' statement.

"I refuse to put my business in jeopardy because of one miserable creature," Dravis said, clearly becoming irate himself.

"Listen here, Captain Rogaine," said the Doctor. Damia forced herself not to laugh. "You don't even know why those two pilots got this way in the first place."

"You're right, I don't. I also don't care," said Dravis. "It hasn't happened before. These are the only two cases we've had."

"That's because you were in a different part of the mine," explained the Doctor. "When you detonated those fusion bombs to build the place, you contaminated the very platinum you were hoping to sell. Some of it was minimal and no one was affected. Other parts were more heavily concentrated. Now, this creature is platinum-based. Just like humans break down into carbon when they die, it breaks down into platinum. The fusion bombs reactivated the proteins and nucleic acids, but not fully. It has to take a living body to survive because it's incomplete. It's basically a ghost of its former self."

"That's very touching, Doctor, but I fail to see why I should give a damn," said Dravis.

"Just think about it, Dravis. You reanimated a dead species. With proper testing and monitoring, you could refine those fusion bombs and make Oberon flourish again. You would become so much more important than those men in suits at Shiva. You would have the power to help life on Oberon."

Dravis was silent. Damia could tell he was mulling over the Doctor's offer. "What about the mine?" he asked.

This time it was the Doctor's turn to be silent, but not because he was in thought. He knew Dravis wouldn't like what he was about to say. "You're going to have to close it down," he said.

Damia expected Dravis to be furious, but like always, he remained calm. "For how long?" he said.

"Indefinitely. Perhaps permanently."

"Not good enough, Doctor," said Dravis. He waved his hand slightly to the guards. They closed in on Damia and grabbed hold of her. "If you want to see Miss Derbyshire again, come to airlock 21." The group left with Damia kicking and screaming.

"Hold on, Damia. I'll be there," the Doctor said before switching off the pager.

Susie sat in the control center staring out into the vastness of space, a canvas of stars returning her gaze. She was holding a bottle of brandy she had shipped from Tethys. It was against regulations to drink on duty, but today hardly followed regulations. She took a gulp from the bottle and prepared to send a message to Shiva. As her hand wavered towards the comm unit, it chirped into activity. She was startled at first, but instinctively answered the hail. "This is PTMC processing station Otomo. Identify your vessel and state your intent," she said nervously.

"Processing station Otomo, this is PTMC executive liner 337-771 on approach from Shiva Station. Request permission to dock," said a man's voice.

Susie froze. Executive liners were only used by the highest PTMC authorities, and they never left their luxurious office suites at Shiva. If they were making a visit this far out, it had to be important. Even if it wasn't important, no one disobeyed the executives unless they didn't care about their job. She was about to grant permission when she remembered the Doctor's instructions. He didn't want the creature to get loose, and she felt the same way, but was the Doctor so important that he could override PTMC, the unofficial rulers of the Solar System?

"Processing station Otomo, respond please," said the man.

Susie felt she had no choice. "Permission granted 337-771. Proceed to docking bay 9." She switched off the comm and took another gulp of brandy. She began to wonder if she made the right call. It was too late to change her mind, but the Doctor would be furious if he found out – unless, of course, she told him herself. She had overheard his conversation with Dravis and knew where he would be. She set the comm unit for airlock 21.

The Doctor arrived at the airlock and was greeted by Dravis' security detail. They patted him down for weapons. "I don't carry weapons," he said flatly. "I prefer to take a more amicable approach to solving my problems." One guard withdrew his sonic screwdriver and held it in front of the Doctor. "That's not a weapon," he said, rolling his eyes, "but I'll make it one if you'd be so kind as to bend over."

"They're only doing their jobs, Doctor," Dravis said sarcastically. "Let him keep that," he said to the guards. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it's not as powerful as an argon-cyanide laser." He motioned to Damia on his left. "Have you considered my offer?" he asked the Doctor.

The Doctor chuckled lightly. "Absolutely not. Have you considered mine?"

Dravis smiled. "It seems one of us has a problem," he said.

At that moment, Susie's voice sounded on the comm. "Doctor, I was about to send your message, but something came up. We might have a problem. I'm really sorry," she said.

"It's alright, Susie," the Doctor said. He could tell she was distressed. "What's wrong?"

"There's a PTMC executive liner making its way to docking bay 9. I had to let them through," she said.

The Doctor smiled. "Thank you, Susie. You did the right thing." He looked at Dravis. "You're right, Dravis. One of us does have a problem. It seems Mom and Dad caught you borrowing the car without permission."

Dravis looked worried. A light sweat formed on his forehead. "That's impossible!" he said. "I covered my tracks perfectly. I gave my associates a watertight story to explain my departure."

"Oh, Dravis," the Doctor said. "For as successful as you are in the business world, you forgot the simple rule that everyone looks for an opportunity to get ahead. Did you really think they'd keep quiet?"

"Pardon my ignorance," interrupted Damia, "but what does all this mean for the Oberian?"

"Nothing good," said the Doctor. "If PTMC sees it, they'll kill it and throw it out the airlock just like Dravis. They're not quite as malicious as he is, but they're just as human. They prefer to shoot first and ask questions later."

"Exactly," said Dravis. "And that's what I intend to do!" He drew a small energy pistol from his side and aimed it at Damia. As he did this, the guards aimed their lasers at the Doctor. "Any last words, Doctor?" he asked.

As if on cue, a group of blue-uniformed soldiers appeared on both sides of the hallway. Dravis' guards turned to face them, but they were struck down by white laser bursts. Dravis was immediately surrounded and his pistol was taken away. A tall bearded man wearing a business suit similar to the one Dravis wore appeared behind the soldiers. "Samuel Dravis, by the power vested in me as CEO of the Post Terran Minerals Corporation, you are under arrest for conspiracy against PTMC, the murder of a former dropship employee, and the attempted murder of these two people," he said. "You will be taken back to Earth where you be placed on trial." The soldiers took Dravis to their ship.

The Doctor sighed in relief. "Many thanks," he said. He held out his hand to the executive. "I'm the Doctor. That woman behind you is my companion Damia."

The man's face was stone. "I don't care who you are. From where I'm standing, you are trespassing on a high-security PTMC installation."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Not this again," he said.

"However, in light of what has happened on this station," the man continued, "I would be willing to let you go with a stern warning if you agree to never set foot on any PTMC installations for the remainder of either of your lifetimes."

The Doctor looked at Damia. "We can do that, can't we?" he asked.

"Most definitely," said Damia.

"Very well, then," said the man. "You have thirty minutes to leave."

"Just one thing," said the Doctor. "There's a creature running loose on the station. I need to locate it before it harms anyone."

"That won't be necessary," the man said. "It has already been captured by my squadron. We will take it back to Earth where we can properly examine it. During that time, all activity within the platinum facility on Oberon will be suspended."

The Doctor thought this statement over. It wasn't what he wanted, but it was all he was going to get. "Okay," he said. "Come on Damia, let's retrieve Orac and be on our way."

The time rotor floated up and down as the TARDIS hummed peacefully. Damia looked at the Doctor as he adjusted the flight controls. "Do you think they meant what they said? About examining the creature, I mean."

The Doctor sighed and stared into nothingness. After a moment he turned to face her. "Yes," he said. "They told the truth and nothing but the truth."

Damia sensed where this was going. "But not the whole truth," she said.

"Indeed not. When they said they would examine the creature, what they meant was that they'll kill it and perform an autopsy. In the matter concerning Dravis, he'll be found guilty of his crimes, but PTMC will agree to let him off scot-free in exchange for his resignation as head of Solar System operations. He'll get transferred to some out-of-the-way place that no one's ever heard of, and that will be the end of it."

Damia sighed. "Not a very happy ending," she said.

"Not by any means," said the Doctor. "Moreover, it's a dismal way to get you acclimated to space/time travel."

"It wasn't all that bad," Damia said. She put her arm around the Doctor. "I still had fun, despite nearly being thrown out an airlock and blasted to death."

The Doctor grinned. "Well, that sort of thing always happens to me, so you'll have to get used to it." He adjusted a few more controls. "Ready for another trip?"

"Absolutely!" squealed Damia. "Where are we going?"

"Who knows?" said the Doctor as he wildly threw some switches. "Half the excitement is in the surprise."

THE END