"Well?" demanded the nurse. "What are you doing in here?"
"Hi!" The Doctor pulled out the psychic paper, thinking fast as he did—Health Inspectors? Secret Service? Fellow doctors? "We're . . . biologists. Management sent us to take a look."
She didn't look impressed. "I wasn't aware we had new people coming in."
"Yeah, sorry, that's our fault, I'm afraid. We tried to check in but no one was here, so we just sort of . . . helped ourselves inside."
"We were told you'd be here to meet us," added Camelia reproachfully.
"Yes, we were, weren't we!"
The nurse narrowed her eyes. "And you just waltzed in here without lab coats, then."
"Didn't think we'd need them. We were just looking for a receptionist."
"You honestly thought we'd have a receptionist?" she scoffed.
He drew a blank. ". . . Yes, why not?"
"Just where do you think you are?"
". . . In a secret underground laboratory filled with animal experiments?"
She folded her arms. "Alright, smart guy, if you're really from management—what name did they give you to come see?"
"Ahh!" He pulled out the paper again and held it up to read. Camelia nearly blew her cover when she saw the words appear. ". . . Nurse Medley!" he said triumphantly.
She looked surprised—but not convinced. "Okay . . . so you know my name. Now tell me yours."
"John Smith, and this is Camelia Gangway."
Medley's wrist shot up towards her face. "Security, I need an ID check for a John Smith and Camelia Gangway in connection with Project Grady."
The Doctor groaned. "Aww, no, see, you don't wanna do that . . ."
"This is Security. No record of John Smith or Camelia Gangway in conjunction with Project Grady."
"Thank you." Medley switched off her key and pulled out a pistol similar to Camelia's. "Hands on your heads." They complied despondently.
Camelia licked her lips. "You know, I can think of a way this situation could have been avoided—"
"Don't."
"Actually, I was going to say, if you could just come up with a bloody name. 'John Smith' only SCREAMS alias. But the other thing, too."
"Be quiet," said Medley. "Tell me who you are."
"Yes. Ah, this is Camelia Gangway. That part wasn't a lie. And I'm the Doctor."
"Doctor—"
"Just the Doctor," said Camelia quickly. "Trust me, you don't want to go into that."
"Whatever. What are the two of you doing here? How did you get in?"
"We walked in."
Medley narrowed her eyes. "Who are you with?"
The Doctor scoffed. "With? We're not with anyone, we're on our own!"
"And that's supposed to make me feel better?"
"Help!"
All three whipped their heads round in the direction of the cry.
The Doctor and Camelia glanced at the nurse. Medley quickly reasserted her hold on the gun. "Don't!" But the Doctor didn't relax.
And then, again: "Help me!" The Doctor ran to the door.
"Don't! Stop!" Medley fired a shot that shattered a glass cabinet behind his head. Camelia whipped her pistol out and blasted the nurse before the Doctor could protest.
"Oh, calm down, she's just stunned," she said. "You were investigating?" The Doctor groaned in disgust but continued to the door and pulled out the screwdriver to unlock it.
It came to with a resounding clang that made both Camelia and the Doctor jump. He reached for the handle and pulled, bold but not overbold. "Yes?" he said. "Hullo, is there someone in here?"
"Help!" someone sobbed. "Help, help me, please!"
The Doctor proceeded inside. Camelia glanced at Medley and chased after him. The room was full of heavy fog and the lights were off.
She coughed. "It is marked biohazard," she hissed. "What's in this fog, d'you think?"
"Never mind that, what's on the ground?"
The fog at their feet curled back, revealing—under a shaft of light filtered through from the lab—a the collapsed figure of a scaly-green man.
Camelia gave a shout and fell back, fumbling for her pistol. She pulled it out and fired—too high. Then too low.
The Doctor ducked and sputtered. "Will you stop it, you're gonna get us all killed!"
"Sorry, sorry!" She steadied herself. "Forgive me for panicking in an underground secret laboratory filled with fog and a horrendously contagious PLAGUE! . . . And it's on stun!"
"Well, put it away anyhow and come here for a second—mind the infected, I think there might be more lying around."
But she just stood in the doorway, eyes on the greened-over man. "And you're just walking in there? Have you touched any of them?"
"No! You'd be able to tell if I had, wouldn't you?"
"That's true . . ."
"Come on, there's someone I'd like you to meet."
Camelia was still scrutinizing the infected man. "Is he dead, or asleep?"
"Oh, he's still breathing." She heard a familiar buzz and a blue glow emanated briefly out of the fog. "Seems the fog is some sort of sedative."
"And we're breathing it?" She had a vision of flopping over unconscious onto an infected body and going green.
"Can't work that fast, Braden's still with us—aren't you, Braden?"
Camelia peered into the room to see the Doctor kneeling beside a man, the Hecatian they'd seen upstairs, who was shivering violently.
"Please get me out of here," begged Braden.
"Right! No problem. Come on, Camelia, let the man through!"
The Doctor helped the man to his feet and guided him out the door, from which Camelia was only too happy to step away while she fetched a stool for him.
"Where am I?" Braden asked.
"You're still in the hospital. Do you remember being brought down here?"
He nodded. "Yes. I mean—I dunno. Hard to believe it wasn't just a nightmare or something."
"Did they tell you why they wanted you?"
"No! There was that nurse—the one with long black hair. She wanted to know where I was from, see? She asked me some questions, she wanted to know if I was from Hecate—"
"Is that what she was after?" asked the Doctor carefully.
"Look, I just don't know! I do know they want people from Hecate, though! It's not safe for us, not here!"
"Yeah, so I've noticed . . ." Still, the Hecatians didn't break into a green sweat, either. "So, if it's so bad—if you've known there was something going on even before coming to the hospital—why come to Aurora at all? Seems a bit risky, doesn't it?"
The man was aghast. "What do you think, that I'm making this up?"
"Wha—? No, no, no no—"
"I'm telling the truth, you have to believe me!"
"Look mate, we just pulled you out of a secret room in a secret basement of a public hospital," said Camelia flatly. "I think we're in something of a position to believe you."
He blinked. ". . . Right. Yes. Sorry. I'm sorry."
She softened. "It's okay. Just . . . we want to know why you came here if you thought it was dangerous. That's all."
"Oh. Um. Okay." He slapped his knees and exhaled.