NON TERRA FIRMA

Martha and Mickey dashed off in opposite directions, and both quickly doubled back toward the rain. They each entered the unassuming-looking bank building from opposite sides just in time to feel the great tremor and see the blinding light. Each of them hung onto a bannister to avoid being jostled to injury. When the movement stopped, the panic ensued. A quick glance about told Martha that in spite of the screaming, no-one was seriously injured and in need of immediate attention, and another quick glance out the window confirmed her suspicion: they weren't on Earth any longer.

Nor were they on the moon, however. Well, this was going to make things slightly more complicated.

She extracted her mobile from her pocket and dialed. She'd known she'd need his help again someday, just not so soon.

He answered with an amused, sing-song "Helloooo?"

"Doctor!" she cried out.

He tuned into her frantic tone straight away. "Martha! Where are you?"

"I have no idea, but I need you!"

"You have no idea? How can you have no idea? Never mind, I'll set the TARDIS down near the hosptial..."

"No, Doctor," she interrupted. "I'm not on Earth."

"You're not on Earth? How can you not be on Earth?"

"It's the Judoon!"

"What?"

"The Judoon! I'm in a bank. There was upwards rain and then the earthquake and the flash... you know how it goes!"

"So you're on the moon."

"It's not the moon."

"Are you sure it's not the moon? Last time it was the moon."

"It's not the bloody moon!" she cried. "Doctor, I know the moon when I see it, and this isn't it!"

"Is it a planet, a space station, an asteroid, what? You've got to help me out here, Martha."

"Well, let's see," she said, calming a bit, comforted to have been given a task. She went to the window and looked out. A gigantic metal arm seemed to be slowly moving above, in a clockwise, propeller-like pattern. On the end of the arm was a large-ish satellite dish. Martha described this to the Doctor.

"Okay, it's a space station of some sort," he said. "The Shadow Proclamation must have put all the Judoon's planetary jurisdiction on suspension so they can't land on terra firma at the moment. What else do you see?"

"Erm, there's a planet nearby. It's brownish."

"What kind of brownish? Brownish-orange or brownish-green?"

"More like brownish-yellow."

"Blimey, that could be any one of about forty planets," he muttered. He seemed to be flipping switches now, and turning dials. "Let's see, how many of those have space stations in orbit?"

Martha was silent while the Doctor made the sounds of metacogitating. "Okay, twenty-two of the brownish-yellow lot currently have space stations in orbit... thirteen are either emitting or receiving a three-hundred-sixty degree satellite frequency. That narrows it down. What else?

"Well, it looks like there's some kind of atmosphere around it, but there are places where it looks unstable... like it's polluted or something."

"Shin-Fang 6," the Doctor said.

"You know where I am?"

"You're in orbit over Shin-Fang 6," he told her. "The planet used to be green, then it was brownish-green, now it's brownish-yellow, and soon it will be just plain brown. Pollution. Plus, it's got these glassy, swirly, jelly, soupy holes in the atmosphere... is that what you're seeing?"

"I suppose so."

"Yes, well, they've got seven space stations in orbit, but I'll check each one until I find a London bank building with you inside."

"Thanks, Doctor. I'll stay in the lobby until I see you. I'll be in the corner near the teller windows."

On the other side of the lobby, Mickey knew he couldn't just sit and wait for the Judoon to arrive – he had to be on-alert. He couldn't believe how lucky he'd gotten in just happening by as the rain began to rise, the very thing he was attempting to research in this dimension. He'd figured he'd have to find some underground cell of alien-fighters in order to gather any info.

Never mind. This was a lot faster. It would get him back home more quickly, and that's what mattered. He regretted having to walk away from Martha while she was so inexplicably and suddenly upset, but as he'd reminded himself over and over and over since he'd met her, he had a girlfriend whom he loved. Sure, she was distracted and absent and quick-to-tears most of the time, but he loved her, and couldn't wait to see her again.

He attempted to cross the room, and wondered if the lift was still in operation. From what he'd heard of the hospital, when it landed on the moon, some of its electrical functions failed. But he needn't have worried. He saw several men and women come out of the lift in the lobby looking frightened and relieved, but the apparatus itself seemed to be in operation. He set his gaze upon it.

"Oi, mate, can you give us a hand?" a voice asked.

Mickey looked down and saw a very large man lying on the floor, and a smaller man trying to help him. The larger man was unconscious and bleeding from a shallow gash on his forehead.

"I think if I can get him into a sitting position, he won't bleed so much," the smaller man told Mickey worriedly.

"Sure," Mickey said, bending down to help. The two of them were able to get the large man upright. Mickey reached into his pocket and took out his weapon. It was wrapped in a long piece of thick gauze, the better for wiping fingerprints. Mickey gave the man the piece of gauze and suggested he wrap it around the larger man's head. The smaller man focused on the weapon, but then quickly came back to himself, and thanked Mickey.

Mickey again fixed his gaze on the lift, and began to move once more. Nearby, however, a female security guard seemed to be pinned beneath a large piece of marble that had previously enclosed her desk. The desk had collapsed into a heap of cheap particle board, but the marble slab was cutting off her air. Mickey shoved his weapon back into his pocket, and recruited three of the younger-looking blokes standing about to help budge the thing, and the woman crawled out, holding her ribs.

"She might have a broken rib," Mickey told one of the men. "Keep her still until help arrives. See if there's a..." he sighed. "See if there's a doctor in the house." Two of the men helped her lie down on the floor while the other ran off into the crowd, presumably to find someone who knew anything about broken ribs.

Finally, Mickey found himself at the lift. To his surprise and relief, when he pressed the button, he heard a ping, and then the doors opened. He got inside, and pressed the number 15. That was the top floor, surely the roof could be reached from there, and then perhaps he could study the outside of the building unnoticed. If there were any traces of plasma or electromagnetic energy, this special firearm that he carried would detect it.

As he exited on the top floor, he cautiously stepped into the hallway, and to his right were at least three members of the Judoon squad, moving the other way. Great big humanoid-rhinos, marching with ridiculously synchronised precision, just like Cybermen. From what he'd heard, though, they were thicker than Cybermen, though marginally less dangerous.

And idea occurred to him.

He went down the hall in the direction where the rhinos had gone, and peered around the corner. He saw them disappear into a stairwell. He ran back to the lift and pressed the button labeled 14. He arrived on the 14th floor at the same time as the loud soldiers, and concealed himself inside a broom closet, just in time not to be seen.

As the Judoon squad trundled past, he held his weapon at the ready. He noticed the censors going haywire both for plasma traces, and for electromagnetic energy. He'd remember to ask about that. And he'd remember to be clever and take notes. He'd remember the sneaky little interrogation methods he'd been taught at Torchwood. He'd remember to keep his cool and not to betray anything about himself, his background or his organisation.

But for now, it was to be swift and blinding violence. Tally-ho.