Alia was exhausted. Her training had become more intense over the last couple of days. They were testing her endurance, Zoey had said. If they continued, Alia was certain she'd collapse.

She'd seen Dr. Smith once since his visit with her, just in passing. She knew they had been listening to that earlier visit, and the way he'd held himself in the time she'd seen him since convinced her that they hadn't liked everything they'd heard. She wondered if she would have been punished, too, if they hadn't needed her in shape for leaping. Perhaps. Or perhaps she was a good enough actress to mask how she really felt.

Or perhaps she was really starting to believe everything they told her, without her fully realizing it.

There was a knock on the door.

No one ever knocked. Why would they? The door closed, and she was locked in. As far as she knew, no one could force their way in from the outside, either. Lothos opened it when she approached—probably at Zoey's word, but lately she was suspecting it was due to the proximity of the monitoring chip, what with Zoey being so busy—and closed it behind her. She remained there until someone came to fetch her. That was how it worked.

The knocking came again, three quiet taps. Then, "May I come in?"

Dr. Smith.

"You are in there, aren't you, Alia? I thought you would be. And you've been allotted this room on the layout."

"I'm here," Alia finally answered, finding her voice.

"Brilliant. You wouldn't mind letting me in, then?"

"I can't."

"Oh. And here I was thinking they just locked me in because they didn't trust me. Didn't realize it was company policy. Hold on a tic."

Alia listened, stunned, to the strange whine that followed Dr. Smith's words, and nearly jumped in surprise when the door slid open. "What did you do?" she asked, shocked.

Dr. Smith grinned at her. "I've a few tricks up my sleeve," he admitted, ducking through the doorway. He showed her a silver tool before pointing it at the door. The device buzzed again under his direction, and the door slid closed. "There we are," he said, pocketing it. "Privacy."

"We're never alone here," Alia reminded him. She wanted to ask about the device but was terrified that this was some sort of test. It would be just like them. She wasn't sure what to make of Dr. Smith in the first place; that they would use that against her was almost expected.

"What, you don't think I can take out a camera or two?" Dr. Smith looked almost offended.

Alia decided she was imagining the expression. "They'd know if you tried anything," she pointed out. "Please, Dr. Smith, don—"

"Just Doctor," he corrected immediately. "You took to it well enough last time, and I'd hate to think you're calling me Dr. Smith because you want to be proper or because you think they might be listening."

"They are," Alia confirmed quietly. "They always are."

The Doctor looked at her for a moment. He pulled his device back out of his pocket. "Do you mind?" he asked, looking at her. "Normally I'd just start, but I met this one friend, and she took such offense the first time I started scanning her—well, second time, too, actually—and if you're right, I can't afford upsetting you. I've been waiting too long to alert them to this now."

"You want to…scan me?"

The Doctor nodded. "It will give me an idea of how inclusive they are in their upgrade. And precisely how they've connected you to your observer."

"You mean my partner?"

"Partner, observer, same thing." The Doctor waved it off. "But, yes. May I?"

"I suppose." Alia still had her doubts—how could something used to control the doors act as a scanner?—but decided that until she was given a clue as to how she was to act, she'd best go along with it.

It only took a moment, but it had the Doctor frowning nonetheless. He fiddled with his device and then resumed, rapidly explaining, "They've got the connections on a different frequency to avoid disruption, which means they put it in at a separate time, which I suppose I should have expected, but I didn't, so it really is a good thing I came for a bit of a chat, because I might have missed something otherwise, and then I can't guarantee everything would have worked."

"With the leaping process?" Alia asked when he stopped.

The Doctor nodded, pocketing his device again. Then he frowned. "Well, sort of," he amended. "Not exactly what you're thinking of, but yes." He paused. "Afraid this may be a bit of a one-sided conversation, though, because I don't want to try disrupting that now, what with you being a top priority leaper at the moment. They'd notice if you fell off the network for half a second or so. And if they're going to be double-checking everything you say, you'd best keep quiet. Well, except for the occasional question."

"Such as why?"

"Well, why is such broad question on its own," the Doctor said, "but, a subset of it, yes, I expect you'll want to know that. Well, you probably want to know all of it, but I can't tell you all of it."

"Why not?"

The Doctor sighed. "Because it's not set yet."

"Set? But isn't the accelerator ready once the programming's finished?"

"I did say occasional question," the Doctor reminded her. "And to your final one, yes."

"But then—"

"Alia, please." The Doctor looked suddenly weary, and Alia fell silent, wondering what sort of things they had been putting him through—and why he was willing to risk more to speak with her.

"It's not going to be pleasant," the Doctor began slowly. "Nothing they've done can prepare you for what they'll make you do."

Don't ask questions. It was a rule she'd learned a long time ago. All the Doctor meant was that they'd given him a list of leaps to program in, and he knew where she would be headed, if it worked. What they wanted changed.

She focused on the wall behind his left shoulder.

"And I'm sorry," the Doctor continued, "but you have to do it."

She knew that. They'd kill her if she didn't. They didn't have any use for someone who—

"They don't, after all, have any use for someone who can't play Simon Says. They say jump, and you have to jump."

Alia stared at him. She was shocked and…terrified.

"And you're a good actress, but they can see into your head with that—" and here he pointed towards her scar "—and they will want to show you that they're calling the shots, not you. They have no intentions of easing you into this. They want to break you. You'll be dependent on them, after all. They'll control where you go and how long you stay there."

Alia didn't need to voice her question; it was clear on her face, and she knew the Doctor knew it.

"I have to do this," the Doctor said. "I just…. I have to."

He wasn't offering any excuses.

No one ever did.

He was looking around now, as if debating whether he should say something. Perhaps the look on her face decided him, because he added, "Things would be worse if they didn't start with control over your leaps. I needed to come to push them in this direction. Things would be worse if I hadn't come. I…." He trailed off, running his fingers through his hair. "I know you probably don't want to believe me, but it's true. They want to twist the past so they can shape the present to become one they want. And I can't let that happen."

"But you are."

"For now, yes. But only for now. Because this…." The Doctor waved a hand weakly around him. "This…this…. It happened. So it has to happen again. For it to set properly. Because I need it to hold. I can't risk letting it snap or separating at another part further along. That would tear me apart."

Alia's jaw worked for moment before she managed words. "I don't understand."

"That's the trouble," the Doctor said. "You don't understand time. None of you do. It's dangerous. And it's fragile. You lot, what you're doing here— You're taking a hammer and smashing it to bits, trying to shape it the way you are. And then you leave someone else to pick up the pieces. And there may be someone who can fix it and put right whatever's gone wrong, but he's going to have a job ahead of him if you try to destroy everything he's worked for. Because all you'll be achieving, in the end, is a balance. Each trying to tip it one way or the other, but you can't. Because the two are never really separate. Trust me. I've seen it. I've seen people destroy themselves because they can't admit that."

If you removed one side, the other wouldn't survive. To destroy one would be to destroy the other, because without one, the other wouldn't exist. She could understand that, if not whatever else he'd said.

"You won't be able to fight forever," the Doctor said, "but you don't need to give up the ability to make the right choice when the time comes, when you're offered another chance. And if you take it, and the consequences of making that choice, and you stick by your decision, you'll get another chance, sometime. A chance for freedom. It won't be an easy fight, but it's possible to win it, if you believe you can."

She wanted to ask whether he meant it, any of it, and why he was saying it in the first place. But she didn't want to be lied to more than she was already.

"So I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I have to make you do this, and I can't say I'm overly pleased that I've had a hand in it, but this isn't the first time that I've done something like this, even if I didn't know that at the time. I do now, of course, and I don't like it, but I can't change what I've done. Or what I didn't do." He pulled a face. "That's why I'm in this mess in the first place, not being able to change what I've done."

Because he couldn't change the past? Alia tried to smooth out the slight frown on her face. He couldn't mean that. No one could change the past. Not yet. She would be the first.

If she survived.

He had assured her that she would, though. And she was fairly certain she wouldn't know it if she didn't. But why—

The realization hit her then. "You want me to change something in your past, once I'm leaping? That's why you're here?" It all made sense now, the twisted words, the double meanings, the vague references. He was helping with the experiment, but not without getting exactly what he wanted out of it.

The Doctor slowly shook his head. "No. You can't change my past. I'm trying to right it, that's all, even if I can't change what went wrong initially any more than you can. Surely you can't fault me for that?"

He was just trying to turn his life around, then. Like any ordinary human being who'd done something that was later regretted.

"No," she answered quietly. "I can't." She questioned his means of going about it, but it wasn't a question she dared ask aloud.

"I'm glad, because I have a feeling you'll think you have reason enough to blame me once they've set you leaping. I promise you. It won't be forever."

"If it works," she added, knowing that if things went as they had been, she wouldn't be leaping at all, let alone forever.

"Oh, it'll work," the Doctor said. "It'll work too well, to start. I haven't missed anything."

"You never know what you miss; otherwise, you wouldn't be missing it."

"Perhaps," the Doctor agreed. "But, I'd best be going. I was informed in no uncertain terms that I am to have you leaping this time tomorrow, and I'd still like to check a few things over. Just…remember what I said, if you can."

He was gone before she thought to ask why he thought she may not be able to remember.

Zoey watched Dr. Smith carefully. He was methodical. Careful but quick, likely going through a mental checklist as he moved from room to room, checking readings and who knew what else. His persistence was to be admired. She knew Thames wouldn't have gone easy on him in the Holding Chamber, yet he hadn't let that stop him from his work. He didn't even try to favour the wounds that obviously still pained him. Admirable, but not without motive.

He didn't acknowledge her when she entered the Control Room, but she had no doubt that he knew she was there. Oh, he was proving his worth, this one. He wasn't one who would be able to get away once he was finished. If he thought they were keeping a close watch on him now, then he was in for a rather unpleasant surprise.

She had to wonder who he really was, the brilliantly clever man who went around calling himself Dr. John Smith. Lothos had yet to determine the man's true identity. Obtaining a clear set of his fingerprints had been ridiculously easy, but they hadn't yielded any matches. For that matter, nothing else they had pursued had turned anything up. It was as if he'd simply dropped onto the face of the Earth, right into the middle of their little experiment. She had to concede the high level of skill possessed by whoever was behind hiding his trail. It was quite formidable.

"Won't be long, if that's what you're here to ask," Dr. Smith said presently. He still hadn't looked up from whatever he was doing.

"If you're going to answer a question I haven't asked," Zoey informed him simply, "you might as well be specific enough to save me the bother of asking anything about it at all."

"Nah," Dr. Smith retorted lightly. "You don't seem to be the type who wants to be bothered with all the details. That's why you keep Thames around, isn't it? To deal with the details?"

"He has his uses, as do you."

"Oh, right, because you don't keep anyone around who isn't useful." The playfulness was gone now, his voice flatter, tighter.

"We find a use for those who are not necessary elsewhere, I can assure you." Zoey smiled. "What that use is depends more on the person than their prior position."

"And that's all just fine and dandy, isn't it, because you've got positions enough to fill when you keep killing off the incompetents, don't you? Whose book did that page come from? I'm supposing Mussolini over Stalin and the like, myself, at least at the moment, what with your concern for efficiency. Tell me, is it really all running on time, or are you just pretending it is?"

"When do you estimate we will be able to hold the first trial?"

"Oh, it won't be a trial. Well, you can call it that if you like, but it'll work, and it won't just be a one-time thing. Though I expect you're calling it a trial because you'll want to run it and then analyze the effects?"

"When," Zoey repeated stiffly, "do you estimate—"

"Not long."

"I am asking—"

"And I am answering: not long."

"Oh, please, don't think yourself so important that we would hesitate to use you as a subject."

"For this little time travel experiment? Nah. You can't control two leapers at once. Not advanced enough. You might be able to leap two people at once, if you're extremely lucky, but you'd never get them out at the same time, and I don't really think you want to find yourself in the dilemma where you've sent the only person who really knows what they're doing off in time."

"Are you suggesting—?"

"Am I? I'm not sure. Bit hard to say. Don't know what I'm suggesting half the time."

Dr. Smith's attitude had gotten worse since Thames had taken him to the Holding Chamber. Perhaps he thought that that was the worst they could do. Or perhaps he thought he wasn't expendable. If that were the case, then the man was a fool. An arrogant, infuriating, egotistical fool.

"So," Dr. Smith said at length, his voice sounding more cheerful than ever, "what's your favourite colour? Blue? Red?"

"At the moment," Zoey replied sharply, "we'll say black."

"Orange it is, then!" Dr. Smith enthused, flourishing a bit of plastic at her. When he stopped waving it about, she realized what it was: a new handlink.

"You've finished?" she asked evenly. He grinned, and she allowed her lips to curl into a smile. "Impressive." She took the handlink for a closer inspection. "The colour leaves a bit to be desired, but you can't account for taste."

Dr. Smith started coughing. When she looked up to glare at him, he waved a hand towards his throat. "Just…bit of a frog," he croaked.

Zoey revised her earlier opinion of him. He wasn't a competent liar. But she didn't have time to quibble with him over her choice of attire. "Lothos, is everything prepared?" She ignored Dr. Smith's indignant protests that it was and was relieved to hear Lothos's confirmation. "Excellent. Lothos, alert Thames and tell him to set the coordinates and initiate the leaping process on my command. Dr. Smith, with me. We'll be preparing Alia."

"Oh, you mean you don't want me to—?" Dr. Smith looked a bit surprised. "Oh. Well. Right. Of course."

Zoey wasn't in the mood to answer him, but at least she didn't have to drag him down the corridors with her. He followed readily enough. That was a good sign; she could use that trust against him. She'd let him have the chance to say something to Alia. That way, she'd get some indication of whether or not this would actually work, if not what he hoped to gain by helping them, since she was certain it was something. Afterwards, she could throw him in the Holding Chamber until she had time to deal with him.

Truthfully, Zoey didn't particularly fancy leaving Dr. Smith in there by himself, but they had a fair assortment of devices in there, and he wouldn't be able ruin all of them in the time she planned to be away. She wasn't about to set Alia leaping without watching, now, was she? Oh, no. It could be a glorious death, even if it marked another failure, and she lost the work of months…or she would be needed as a contact, to walk Alia through her first assignment.

She would have to visit Dr. Smith when it was over either way.

She would so enjoy watching him quiver and cry out in pain as she put him through the paces. She might even go just a bit further, pushing him to his threshold, once she found out what she needed to know.

Whatever that was—what he'd gotten wrong or how he'd managed to make it work or what his motive really was or who exactly he happened to be or how he'd found out about them—would be decided quite quickly, she imagined. They were counting down the minutes now. In only a few more mere minutes, she'd know the extent of the experiment's power—and the reach of her own.

The door slid open, revealing Zoey. The Doctor stood behind her, looking apologetic. Alia stood up, anticipating Zoey's order. She'd been dressed in the Fermi suit since the morning—or what they treated as morning, since she hadn't seen daylight since her last lesson on the shooting range with Zoey three days ago—and knew today was the day she either changed history…or became it.

She couldn't truthfully say that she had been anticipating it.

"Get to the accelerator chamber," Zoey ordered. "Thames will direct you via the intercom."

"What about you?"

"I'll be observing you," Zoey replied with a laugh. "Really, darling, you can't think I'd miss this, do you?"

Alia looked at the Doctor. "Am I going to be safe?"

"Yes," the Doctor answered. "Don't know whether you'd call that unfortunate or fortunate, but I suppose that'll depend on your point of view, and I think you might change that a few years down the road." He paused. "I'm sorry, Alia. I really am. You shouldn't have to go through this, but it's necessary. And I am so sorry for that."

She wondered at his words, and what, precisely, he meant by how she shouldn't have to go through with it. Did he mean how his actions had gotten her chosen as the first test subject? Was he referring to the experiment? His personal beliefs? Was it a plea for chivalry of sorts, or something else entirely?

But she was used to having all the questions and none of the answers, so she was satisfied with the one that she was given: she was going to be safe.

"Well," the Doctor amended, "safe as far as the leaping itself. I don't really have a lot of control after that. You'll be on your own then. And I don't think they'll have prepared you for it, because it's not something that you can really prepare someone for, seeing as they're tearing your body apart and sending you along the periphery of the Vortex to be reassembled in another time based on your atomic pattern, but within another person's aura, and that's bound to be disorienting, so it's really no surprise that your memory's going to be a bit misassembled, missing a piece here and there, You ought to retain enough to know that you're you and not whoever you've leaped into, but I'm afraid you're going to have to depend on Zoey here to tell you what to do, and you might not like it, and I certainly won't like it, though I don't have a say and I highly doubt you do either, since they seem to be the ones calling the shots, and—"

Zoey shoved the Doctor, evidently tired of hearing him blithering on, and effectively cut off his speech as he stumbled into the wall. Alia noted that he was weaker than he had been the last time she'd seen him. "Thames will be getting impatient," Zoey said pointedly.

She mustn't anger Lothos, Alia interpreted. She nodded a silent thanks to the Doctor, who was rubbing his shoulder but biting his tongue. She knew Zoey had plans for the Doctor, and she was fairly certain she knew what those plans involved.

No matter what the Doctor thought, she believed she was fortunate now. She was escaping. That was something she doubted the Doctor would manage, for even someone clever enough to complete the experiment wouldn't be able to escape. Even if he did manage to somehow leave the building, they'd find him and track him down. He wouldn't find an escape then, once they caught him. He would spend the rest of his life in hell.

Alia bit her lip, pausing in front of the accelerator chamber door to gather her courage. Squaring her shoulders, she stepped inside. The door closed behind her, sealing her in. She heard the machinery beneath her feet roar to life. She could hear, vaguely, Thames's voice, but she wasn't paying attention to it anymore.

She could feel herself being torn apart.

It was mad, but she started to laugh.