Besides putting all the furniture she could find up against the obvious exits, Camelia searched around and blocked off all the windows and ventilation to be safe. After she'd wound up by binding the stunned chancellor, she went looking for the Doctor. She stopped dead on the threshold of the operating room.
"What—what are you doing?"
Berin was outfitting the Doctor with what appeared to be knee and elbow pads, with chrome plating that only covered his joints laterally. The Doctor had removed the jacket of his pinstripe suit and rolled up the sleeve of his left arm. "What are you doing? you're supposed to be covering the exits!"
She blinked. "I—I barricaded the doors, I didn't think you'd bite my head off for coming to check on you."
"Look, we're fine, just keep an eye on those doors!"
"Berin, seriously, what are you two doing in here?"
Berin looked blankly at her, then at the Doctor. "Please, Camelia, just listen to me," the Doctor pleaded. "It's vital Berin and I not be disturbed. Do you understand that? Just trust me!"
She stood a second longer, staring at him, and at last gave up. "Fine. Trust you. Just forget that up until a half an hour ago I didn't even know how many hearts you have."
Berin watched her leave, then looked to the Doctor, confused.
"Don't stop!"
Camelia went around to check the exits again. She was scared out of her mind by rhixis, and even she felt comfortable with her security measures. What exactly was so important that the Doctor felt the need to get rid of her?
She did a double-check, just in case—though she had a sneaky feeling now that she was probably wasting her time—then went to the monitor that the Doctor had hacked. "Search: Security video."
A set of files opened holographically. She tapped the records for the tower's security feed, found the camera in the room where Berin had been held, and rewound back to the moment the Doctor had entered to free him.
"Berin! There you are!"
"Doctor? What's happened?"
"Ah, something of an emergency, I'm afraid," said the Doctor, undoing the ropes that held Berin to the chair. "There's a mob of infected people filling the hospital and they're making their way up to us."
"How do you plan on getting out?!"
"I don't."
Berin stared. "You don't."
"No, I've got something better!"
"A time machine?"
"Ahhh . . . No." The Doctor smoothed back his hair and took a deep breath. "Alright, I'm going to need you to listen very carefully, because the fate of the entire planet might depend on this." He saw Berin's face. He paused. ". . . Okay, maybe pull it back a notch. Think about saving just our lives, does that help?"
"A little."
"Good. . . . I need you to expose me to a vial of rhixis."
"What?!"
"They've been experimenting on the chancellor's son for weeks now; they'll have methods for extracting it safely. Do you think you can do it?"
"Of course I can. But why?!"
"I'm the smallpox cow."
"What?"
"I need you to hook me up to draw blood from my body, in increments, while I'm exposed to the rhixis. Hopefully one of those samples will contain a reaction strong enough to counter the virus, and you can mass-produce that to immunize everyone else."
"What?! I thought you said the antivirus technique wasn't working! I thought you said the rhixis was too—"
The Doctor lost his patience. "It's different! Alright? It's different with me! I'm not . . . entirely . . . human. I'm a Time Lord."
Berin was stunned. ". . . But what does that mean?"
The Doctor sighed, licked his lips, and attempted to explain himself. "My cells are able to store up massive amounts of energy during my day to day life that I don't use, ever, unless I'm critically damaged. When I am they divide, rapidly, aggressively, until my entire body regenerates. Even segments of DNA will change. If that process began before the rhixis progressed too far, then the virus would be wiped out and the new DNA would more than likely develop an immunity to the disease."
"Are you serious?"
"I'm very serious. But I need your help to set it up."
"Of course! What can I do?"
"First, I need you to set up some sort of restraints for me."
"Restraints?"
"I told you, my body gives off massive amounts of energy. Usually out the extremities—yeah, it's a bit of a mess . . . But we can't risk me thrashing around or doing anything that might damage the machine while it carries the blood out of my arm."
"Got it." Berin was about to spring to work, but the Doctor stopped him.
"One more thing, Berin. I need you to promise me something. . . . I need you to burn my body when it's done."
"What?!" Camelia rewound to make sure she heard it right. The Berin on the screen looked as confused as she was.
"I need you to burn my body when it's done."
"Wha . . . What do you mean? You just said your body would beat it."
"I'll regenerate free of the rhixis. But the restraints will prevent the energy from siphoning out of my body. I could cook like a christmas turkey—if that happens, then I need you to get rid of my body. Just burn it. It's too dangerous to be left on Aurora."
"But . . . if what you're saying is true, then you're asking me to sentence you to death."
"Yes."
"I can't do that. I took an oath."
"You have to," said the Doctor gently. "It's the only hope for saving everyone on Aurora." Berin appeared unconvinced, so he went on: "If you won't help me, I'll strap myself down myself and die anyway, with far less chance of success."
"Then I'd have to stop you."
"I just told you I'm not even human. You sure you want to try that?"
Berin hesitated. ". . . No."
"Good. You'll help me, then?"
"Is there no way to keep you alive?!"
"No. The energy is biologically oriented. The only thing that could take the pressure off of my body would be living tissue close enough to attract the waves. But if you or anyone else came within fifteen feet of me the energy would kill you. There would be no point."
"I see."
"And I need you to create that vaccine. Patent it, do whatever you like with it, just make sure you cure this planet."
"I will."
"And—just one last thing; don't tell Camelia."
Camelia turned off the monitor. Fidgeted absently.
"If what you're saying is true, then you're asking me to sentence you to death." . . . "Yes."
"Don't tell Camelia."
"Don't tell Camelia"? Did he think she was going to interfere?!
Yeah, and he was probably right.
She had to get back to the operating room. But she was almost too ashamed to move. She felt like the biggest idiot in the the world.
"Who do you think you are? All you've done is look down on me—and everyone else, for that matter—since reading that report, just because you don't like how we live our lives. I don't see how it's any of your business—or what gives you the right to be so high and mighty."
"It's like you think you're superior to everyone and every rule for who knows what reason. I don't know if you really want to help or if you've got ulterior motivations: I don't even know who you are."
She wished she'd never seen that stupid Liam, never been given opportunity to open her fat mouth. But she knew it wasn't just the man from the waiting room; her whole attitude was rotten.
"If what you're saying is true, then you're asking me to sentence you to death." . . . "Yes."
Who did that? . . . Who did that?! She slumped back against the wall and slid down onto the floor. Who . . . just . . . gave themselves to save a bunch of people they'd never met? When all they had to do was leave and never give it a second thought as long as they lived? When your host treated you like an enemy? . . . She felt her eyes well up and pressed her forehead into her hands helplessly. She began to sob.
She had to tell him she was sorry. Before it was too late. Maybe it was too late. She struggled to her feet and checked the monitor. She scrolled through the cameras till she found the operating room.
An image appeared of Berin, synching the joints of the Doctor's "elbow pads" with corresponding segments built into a bulky chrome apparatus constructed around the reclining table on which the Doctor lay.
"You'll want to raise your elbows into the slots before I turn the machine on," Berin was saying. "These are incredibly powerful magnets. If you let them pull your arms in for you it might cause injury."
Camelia didn't wait to hear the rest. She left the monitor and made for the operating room herself.