"You think it's that serious?" Rory asked.
"Oh, yes," the Doctor said, running his hands through his hair. "The Wirrn breed very quickly, and if they are using humans as hosts, it means they'll gain technology and local knowledge very quickly."
"What?" Rory exclaimed. "You never said anything about that!" He resolutely shoved the pistol into the back waistband of his jeans.
The Doctor gave him a sheepish look. "I didn't want to worry you."
"Is there anything else you don't want to worry me about?" Rory glared.
"No. I'll give Tildaith an hour to write his reports and call in his backup. But if he isn't ready to move by then, you and I will take the Tardis and go get Amy out of that hive ourselves."
Rory nodded. "That's more like it."
—
Amy lay still, barely daring to breathe. The hay was heavy and itchy all around her, poking her everywhere. Sometimes she wondered why she kept clinging to her miniskirts. A pair of jeans would be great right now.
She, Stanley, and Schwillic had borrowed their way back deep into the huge drift of hay. She couldn't see them. She couldn't see anything but her hands in front of her nose, trying to create a pocket to breathe in and filter out the chaff so she wouldn't sneeze.
But she felt Stanley's sneaker touching her ankle, and Schwillic was a pulsing warmth beside her hip.
She strained her ears to hear beyond the insulating hay.
The hay had shifted a few times as if Wirrn had poked at it, or landed on it, searching. But they'd burrowed deep.
The hive was still throbbing with angry activity. She lay her head on her hands and prepared to wait it out.
—
Forty-five minutes later, Tildaith found them at the other ATV. The Doctor and Rory were talking to Clarke, the forensics expert. Clarke's team had finished collecting their evidence and he'd sent them on to town. He was packing up his ATV lab.
"Thank you, Doctor, for that sample you gave me," he said, as he lugged a metal briefcase into the ATV and locked it into its cubbyhole above the lab bench. "Between that, and the samples we collected here, we were able to narrow down the time frame. From what we can tell, with that and other evidence, the farmers were originally gassed at about 8 a.m. yesterday. Twenty-six hours ago." His curly-haired, cheerful face went grave, knowing that the longer it took to find them, the less chance there was.
"While you were gone, we sent out volunteers to search a widening spiral around the farm on skids," he waved toward the side of the tarmac. Rory turned and saw a line of flatbottomed hoverbikes parked at the edge of the field.
"They found nothing," Clarke said, stuffing his hands in his tweed pockets. He shook his head. "It was a thorough job these Wirrn did. There was no trace of the farmers. Only a few empty fertilizer bags dropped in the field showed anyone had been working here at all." He shrugged.
He looked around the farm. Most of the searchers were gone now. The catering ATV had left, and the tarmac was practically deserted. It was too quiet. The wind ruffled his curls and he shook his head irritably.
The look of mature worry on his 12 year old face was very disconcerting to Rory. Even now, he still hadn't gotten used to the Feyanorans. "Why are you still here?" he asked.
Clarke came out of his introspection and shut the ATV hatch behind him. He waved a hand at a folding chair and a briefcase that sat outside under the awning that stretched from the roof of the ATV. The table with all the equipment had already been stowed away.
"I'm just hanging around, waiting for the inevitable influx of reporters," Clarke admitted. "Jeff's up at the house going through the paperwork, trying to find out who's next in line for ownership of the farm. We've already transmitted a list of next of kin to Janine to notify. Her staff are taking care of that." The boy turned to the Doctor. "Is there any likelihood we'll find survivors?" he asked. "You seem to be the expert on these creatures."
"I'd quite like an answer to that myself," Tildaith said. Colonel Tildaith and Dutch walked up to join them. The Colonel was back in "Man in Black" mode, Rory noticed. Complete with black sunglasses.
The Doctor turned to the two officers, his own young face serious. "With the timeline Clarke has given me, I'd say we have less than three days before the Wirrn are supplemented with a new batch of fully pupated, technologically advanced Wirrn hatched from the farmers."
Dutch went green. "Hatched from the farmers?" he asked in a wavering voice, sounding as if he was swallowing bile.
The Doctor nodded grimly. "Wirrn normally lay their eggs in herbivores. But the ones I met had learned they could absorb knowledge with the body when using humans. I had hoped none of the other Wirrn had learned that nasty trick. But it looks like that was a vain hope."
"You seem very sure all the farmers are dead," Tildaith said.
The Doctor shrugged unhappily. "I would love to be wrong. But I doubt it."
Tildaith sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses. "I've called for reinforcements and Sheriff Anderson has agreed to wait here for them and bring them up to speed when they arrive." Dutch nodded. This new knowledge had brought out the burly warrior in him. He crossed his arms, Rory's eyes were drawn to the military tattoo on his forearm.
"My soldiers are willing to fight and brave the hive to get your friend out of there," Tildaith said. "But I need some reassurance that it's not a wasted effort."
The Doctor nodded and picked up Stanley's tracker board that he'd modified the night before. He patted it. "If you can get me close enough. I can locate her with this. I can also scan to see if there are any other survivors."
Tildaith nodded. "How close is close enough?"
"Does your chopper have a stealth mode?" the Doctor asked.
Tildaith nodded.
"Then I suggest you use it," the Doctor said.
—
The hive had gone quiet.
The hay pressed down on Amy with a heavy, muffling, weight. Her nose was caked with the sweet, dry smell of hay dust. She'd murder a drink of water about now. Carefully, quietly, Amy wiggled her way to the edge of the massive haystack. She could feel Schwillic tunneling his way through beside her, and she wasn't sure, but she thought Stanley was following along in her wake.
And she had hay down her shirt. Marvelous. She rolled her eyes and kept going.
She dug her way through the last screen of grasses at the edge of the mammoth pile and poked her nose out.
There was a black, branchy Wirrn foot right in front of her.
She froze.
Slowly, carefully, her eyes traced upward over the stilt-like legs, the heavy green abdomen, the thorax, and finally to the face.
It was looking down at her with a curious expression.
"Hi," she said lamely, her heart about to leap out of her chest.
This was the largest Wirrn she'd seen next to the one who'd bitten her. Of course, that could just be the perspective. But where that one looked like a powerful, angry old warrior, this one looked... softer.
She realized that was a funny thing to think about a creature with an exoskeleton. But it was true.
Then she noticed it was leading two horses, one insectoid hand in the mane of each.
The horses lowered their heads to nibble at the hay.
"You can come out," the Wirrn said. "They're gone."
—
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