Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. This story is based on the Doctor Who characters and universe.

Please review!!

Science Assassin: Chapter thirteen

Donna pushed the trolley down the hall, careful not to spill the tea it was holding. She was dressed in a crisp nurse's uniform, with a pale turquoise dress and white apron. It had been nice of Wanda to let her out, but why send her here? All the way here, out in the country, as a nurse. Donna had never done nursing. She was glad that the job had not proved as difficult as she had thought...so far. Wanda had told her that it would be too dangerous to stay at the hotel, since the scientists were angry with her and that she would only be blamed for anything that happened and sent back to jail.

Checking a clipboard, Donna knocked at door number 57. "Come in!" came a croaky voice.

Pushing open the door, Donna wheeled in the trolley. Old Mrs Smith was sitting up in bed, dressed in a pink nightie and floral bed cap. Her wrinkled face reminded Donna of a prune; she was so old.

"Oh, thank you dearie. That looks lovely." Mrs Smith leaned back against the pillows as Donna placed a lap tray on the bed and served her hot tea and cake. "You know," continued Mrs Smith. "I think my drip needs replacing." She pointed to the sharp needle which was sticking into one of the many blue veins popping out of her arm. Donna tried not to look sick.

"Oh, I'm not in charge of that, but I'll get someone up right away to fix that." Donna began wheeling the trolley out of the room.

"Thank you!" called the old woman. Donna thankfully shut the door behind her and took a deep breath. She wondered how long she could keep up the job. She wasn't good at medical things. The sight of blood was enough to make her feel dizzy.

The next room belonged to another very old woman. Donna didn't know her name. The woman was sitting up in bed gazing out of the window. Unlike many of the other patients she had no drip and no medication was visible in the room. Her white hair was secured in a tight bun, and she said idly as Donna came into the room, "Thank you. Please leave it on the table."

As Donna put the woman's tea on the bedside table, the woman turned. Something about her face seemed familiar to Donna. The size of her nose, the colour of her eyes. When the woman saw Donna's face she froze. "I must be dreaming," she muttered. "It can't be."

"Are you ok?" asked Donna.

"I..." The old woman's eyes flickered, as if recalling some faint memory. "Donna?"

Donna was surprised. How did the old woman know her name? She didn't have a name tag on. Suddenly, her eyes fell on a clipboard pinned to the end of the bed. As she read the woman's name, she nearly fainted herself, and had to grab the trolley to keep from falling over. Noble, Donna. Age: 87.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

The Doctor checked himself in the mirror as he entered the Hotel Noble. He almost didn't recognise himself. His usual dark hair was now a mangy grey, thanks to hair spray and powder. He had gelled it down so that it lay flat on his head. His face was a sickly pale, and he had put yellow contacts in his eyes. He was also dressed in a smart black suit, and had brought along a clipboard.

Wanda came from behind the counter, dressed in a black mourning dress. "Good morning Doctor," she said in a low voice. "From now on, I'll be calling you Carl. Here." She handed him a map of the hotel.

"Does it have to be Carl?" whined the Doctor. "Couldn't you think up a better name?"

"No." Wanda had returned to her usual self, in control. "I've put you down as Carl. Now, you'll never believe this, but the motroids struck again last night. Sir Robert had a minor heart attack. His heart is weak and the excitement and murder was all too much. Usually he would have survived with the help of his pills, but they were missing, only to be found later in the kitchen. Someone also cut the telephone wires so there was a delay in getting the ambulance. When it finally arrived, it was too late."

"Oh no!" The Doctor groaned. "If only I'd been here, I might have been able to help."

A flicker of guilt passed through Wanda's eyes. "Well, there's nothing you can do now. Today is the funeral for the three deceased scientists. I have to attend, but since you're new and didn't know the scientists, you weren't invited."

"Good, I can investigate the board room. Any news from Donna?"

"No. The telephone wires are still being repaired, but when they are fixed you can ring the home and ask for Miss Katrina Blend, her false name. Make sure no one hears you though." Wanda handed him a card for the nursing home. It was a pale yellow colour and had a floral decoration for a border. It looked like the kind of place Donna would hate. The Doctor put it in his pocket.

"So, am I free to look around?"

"Yes, here are the keys to the various rooms in the hotel." The Doctor was given a set of keys. "Maybe you should try and talk to some motroids as well. That might provide some information. And remember, you're Carl." Wanda walked off.

The Doctor looked at the set of keys in his hand. They were neatly marked. He made his way to the board room and unlocked the door. Straight away, he made for the back wall where the motroid was supposed to have hidden. It was made of great metal sheets, with only tiny black cracks in between each sheet. The Doctor tapped the wall and examined it thoroughly. He even put on his reading glasses, but found no trace of a secret passage. He rubbed the thin crack, and then smelt his finger. "Negative charge," he decided. "That motroid focused a beam of negative charge at Roland's ear. They must be pretty smart to know what to do."

Finding nothing else of interest in the room, the Doctor wandered out, trying to think of a place to look for the entrance to the passage inside the wall. As he passed the reception desk, he caught a whiff of smoke. A motroid was sitting at the desk, filing papers and smoking a cigarette. He looked up as the Doctor passed.

"Mornin'."

"Morning," replied the Doctor politely, trying not to cough at the strong smell of smoke. It seemed to be particularly strong, and smelled extremely foul. He was about to move away but then remembered Wanda's suggestion about getting information from motroids. Putting up with the smell, he picked up some papers and sorted through them. The motroid spoke up.

"You new here, eh?"

"Er, yes. I'm working for Wanda."

"Wanda." The motroid wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Bossy one she is." He took a long puff at his cigarette. "Always has to be in control. Everything has to go her way. Get sick of her sometimes."

"Yes, yes." The Doctor nodded understandingly. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to really work for Wanda. "So, have you heard about all those murders?"

"Aye." The motroid pulled out the day's newspaper and thrust it to the Doctor. "Pity the murderer escaped though. Said that he's an unknown alien and that he calls himself the Doctor. Apparently he cut a laser hole in the wall, though how he escaped security nobody knows."

The Doctor looked down at the newspaper. On the front page was a big picture of his face, and an article describing him, to be continued on page 4. He flicked open the paper, and came across an ad for the London aged care nursing home. It was described as a quiet, peaceful retirement village, and contained pictures of residents and their views. Suddenly, the Doctor froze and stared at the picture of an elderly woman, whom he had thought looked familiar. He gasped when he read the name underneath. Donna Noble, 87.

More to come...

Please review!!