Part Three: Capture
The Doctor had faster reflexes than the Tarsin guard who'd spotted him, just barely. He flicked the end of his scarf at the man even as his gun arm rose, catching him by surprise and throwing him off balance just enough to give the Doctor a second or two to start running.
The guard recovered disappointingly quickly, shouting loudly into his headset to request backup even as he began to shoot.
Dodging the blaster bolt, which singed his sleeve, the Doctor skidded around a corner and kept running.
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"You're ordered back up to moon base," the ground control sky raider informed the two who'd just returned from patrol. "They've let that alien escape and can't find it – they want all hands for the search."
As the returning patrollers loudly expressed their discontent with this order, Sarah felt her eyes go wide. Tucked carefully away in their hiding place behind some equipment in a quiet corner, she gave Harry a quick poke in the ribs to see if he'd also grasped the meaning of what they'd just heard. An escaped alien – it had to be the Doctor. What other alien could it be? And 'up at moon base' meant…
"The Doctor isn't here any more," she whispered, to be sure they were all on the same page.
"Yes, I heard," Harry whispered back, slightly louder than she was comfortable with, so she shh'd him and then ignored the mildly exasperated look he shot at her in return, concentrated instead on trying to hear what the sky raiders were talking about now, in hopes of more clues as to the Doctor's whereabouts and how they might reach him.
One of the patrollers was asking if 'the transport' was ready and the ground controller said that it was. "Last batch is already loaded – slim pickings this time, the boss won't be pleased. We're just waiting for you."
"Best get moving, then," the second patroller drawled. "You've room for our prize, I take it?"
"Get the hoist; you can sling it in the secondary hold."
Roba wriggled himself in between Sarah and Harry, looking very small and very scared. "What are they saying?"
Sarah was still trying to make sense of their conversation herself. "The TARDIS," she realised, watching the aliens carefully. "They're moving the TARDIS…into that ship. The spaceship, Harry – they're taking the TARDIS to the base where the Doctor is, the moon base."
Harry lifted an eyebrow. "We'd better see if we can go with it, then."
He made it sound so easy. It wasn't. They had to sneak from one end of the vast cavern to the other without being seen, and then wait, nerves jangling, for the sky raiders to turn their backs while the spaceship's hold door was open, so that they could sneak aboard and tuck themselves behind the stolen TARDIS, out of sight.
Sarah gazed longingly at the TARDIS as they stepped into the cargo hold alongside it. If only they had the key, they could hide inside and know for certain that they were safe…but they didn't, it was with the Doctor. All they could do was tuck themselves behind it and hope for the best.
Roba was all but hyperventilating by the time they were aboard and hidden, after he'd coped so well with everything their journey had thrown at them so far. Sarah remembered well what a shock it had been when she first glimpsed inside the TARDIS, how she'd felt the first time it took her into the future, and could only imagine how much worse the culture shock must be for Roba to walk into a place like this, littered with advanced technology, when he came from such a primitive little encampment – and worse again because he was already absolutely terrified of the sky raiders and their sky carts. He couldn't seem to stop shaking now that they were so close to the dread creatures, had even voluntarily boarded one of their vehicles, and kept whimpering and muttering his terror.
"Shh, it's all right, shh, that's it – breathe." She cast anxious eyes around the bulk of the TARDIS toward the still open hold door, unable to see where the sky raiders were – if the creatures came back and found them now, it would be all over, and they couldn't afford to fail, not now they'd come this far. "Do something," she hissed at Harry, who, aside from awkwardly patting Roba's shoulder and 'there, there'-ing at him a bit, had simply taken a step back and let her get on with the business of soothing the boy, as if he thought she knew what she was doing.
Harry waved his hands helplessly. "Such as?"
"Well, you're supposed to be a doctor, aren't you?" Sarah was fairly certain that neither one of them knew all that much about children, but she would have thought that a trained doctor should have a better idea how to console the distressed than an investigative journalist did – bedside manner was usually his strong point, even if dealing with people on a less professional basis wasn't. Besides, he was the one Roba had really latched onto.
A loud scraping, whining sound rang out – those heavy trap doors above the spaceship being opened, perhaps – and Roba moaned. "They'll find us, they'll find us!"
"No they won't, not if we keep quiet." Sarah cast another nervous glance toward the still open hold door, beyond which the voices of the sky raiders could be heard once more, arguing about something. Wondering what in the world they were going to do if the boy couldn't pull himself together again, she looked at Harry. "Maybe we shouldn't have brought him."
"Bit late for that, I'm afraid," Harry shrugged, as if she didn't already know that herself…but then Roba pulled away from them, suddenly very quiet and still, as if that exchange had broken through his panic where no amount of cajoling had worked.
"Don't send me back," he pleaded. "I can be brave. Don't send me back."
Harry ruffled the boy's hair and said, "Couldn't if we wanted to," in his heartiest voice, the one he used when he was out of his depth and knew it but still wanted to appear positive. Then Sarah heard sky raider voices getting closer once more, approaching the still open hold door.
"Shh!" she hissed, grabbing a hand of each of them and gripping tight, trying not to even breathe; if they were found now, here, after all this…
A moment later the hold door clanked shut and was sealed off with a loud hiss, and it was only then that Sarah thought to wonder if a cargo hold would remain pressurised and have a breathable atmosphere circulated while in transit to wherever the craft was going, because if it didn't then they could be in trouble.
It was too late to worry about that, as well.
They were on their way.
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"Stop there!"
The Tarsin guards seemed to be everywhere, zeroing in on the Doctor's position now that he'd been sighted.
He kept running. He was a big believer in speed of movement as a solution to potential captivity problems, however temporary that solution might be, and felt exceedingly grateful that this current body of his was so very fleet of foot.
Fleetness of foot would only get him so far, however.
And the Tarsins weren't exactly snails, either.
He nimbly dodged a stray blaster bolt as he skidded around a corner ahead of the pursuing guards…only to find more up ahead, cutting off his escape. As he reacted to this unfortunate development, mind racing to come up with an alternate way out, he zigged when he should have zagged, and another blaster bolt caught him square between the shoulder blades.
His legs crumpled beneath him.
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The journey lasted just long enough for all three of them to fall asleep, now that at long last they had nothing more to do but sit and wait it out.
It felt like mere moments later that Harry was woken with a start by a sudden jolt and the muffled sound of voices and movement somewhere nearby. He blinked muzzily at his strange surroundings, disoriented, while recent memories jostled for attention: the planet, the Doctor's disappearance, the aliens, the long night spent scrambling through the hills. They'd snuck aboard the sky raider spacecraft, and….
It had just landed.
He lurched upright in sudden panic, dislodging Sarah and Roba, who'd both fallen asleep on top of him, and hurried over to the door, which had a kind of window set into it. It was heavily encrusted with grime but he could just about make out the smooth metallic walls and floors of the spacecraft hangar beyond, with several of the sky raider aliens bustling around in purposeful fashion.
"What's going on?" Sarah was suddenly at his elbow, craning her neck as she reached up on tiptoes trying to see through the window, which was too high for her.
"We've landed," Harry explained, but the way Sarah rolled her eyes told him that wasn't quite what she'd meant.
"Yes, I gathered that, but out there, what's going on out there?"
He tried wiping a bit of grime off the window with his sleeve, without much success, and looked again. "Jolly difficult to see. They seem to be unloading another section of the vessel – it's…oh." He stopped short in dismay as he saw what kind of cargo was being brought out
"What?"
"Should have guessed, really." Roba had come alongside them, looking rather pale and drawn, and Harry eyed the boy anxiously, wondering how he might react to this development.
"Should have guessed what? Harry, would you stop being cryptic and tell me what you see," Sarah snapped.
He glanced out of the window again at the bedraggled bunch of natives huddled together alongside the vessel, cowering in fear from the gun-wielding sky raiders. "It's people, Sarah. They had people in the other cargo hold – natives, you understand."
"My mother," Roba burst out, almost frantic.
"Well, I don't know –"
"Let me see! Let me see!" Roba hurled himself at the door and scrabbled at the smooth metal, trying to climb up to the window to see for himself.
All they'd need was for the sky raiders to hear a disturbance in here and come to investigate. Harry quickly pulled the boy away from the door, clamping a hand over his mouth, while Sarah hissed, "Shh, we have to be quiet, Roba – we can't let them know we're here."
"But my mother…"
"I know, I know." She bent double to look the boy in the eyes, gripping his arms tightly. "We'll look for her, Roba, we will, I promise, but we can't let them find us here – you understand?"
The boy struggled for a moment longer, but then went limp, defeated, and his chin dropped to his chest. "I understand."
Harry released him, gave him a pat on the shoulder, and went back to the door. "I don't think anyone heard," he said, squinting to make out through the grime what was happening out there, as the sorry band of captive natives was herded through a doorway leading out of the main hangar. "They seem to be taking the prisoners away…wait, get back!"
Spotting a couple of the remaining sky raiders heading toward their cargo hold, he span away from the window and pressed himself flat against the wall, while Sarah quickly caught hold of Roba and pulled him against the wall on the other side of the door.
Just in time. With a whoosh and a hiss, the door began to open. Harry met Sarah's eyes, the panic in them a match for his own – there was simply nowhere they could hide, they'd never make it back behind the TARDIS in time. The moment the sky raiders set foot through the door, they were done for.
"…You see?" one of the aliens was saying as the door opened. "Want it unloaded?"
Harry held his breath and tensed up, ready to take action the moment the aliens stepped across the threshold. Perhaps if he could take down the first as it entered, and he'd have surprise on his side at any rate, they might stand at least some kind of chance against the other…
It seemed an eternity before the other one replied. "Later – see what the Proctor wants done with it."
"Back to it, then…"
The voices moved away and drifted off into the distance, before fading away completely, and Harry started to breathe again.
"Oh, thank God." Sarah had her arms around a very wide-eyed Roba, holding him tight. "I thought we'd had it!"
Harry risked a quick peek around the edge of the door. No sign of movement. He ventured a little further and stuck his head out for a proper look around. "All clear, I think."
"I'd be happier if you were certain." Sarah pressed alongside him in the doorway to see for herself. "Yes, all clear."
"That's what I said." Harry stepped down from the ship and gazed around in wonder at the pristine spacecraft hangar, glisteningly bright and bristling with unfathomable technology – quite a contrast from the dank cavern they'd taken off from. "I say, this is a bit of a step up from that last place."
Roba caught hold of his sleeve again, staring wide-eyed in bewilderment at the dazzling array of equipment that surrounded them. "What do we do now?"
Harry looked at Sarah to see if she had any bright ideas. "The prisoners were taken that way," he offered, pointing toward the doorway they'd been taken through.
"My mother is that way?" Roba's face lit up with sudden hope.
"Well, I can't say for sure …"
"I think we should split up," Sarah suddenly declared, and Harry frowned. He didn't consider himself to be an imaginative man, but he could imagine all kinds of ways that could go wrong.
"Oh, I don't think that's such a good idea, old…" he caught himself, "Sarah."
"I'm not old, Harry, and I do," Sarah insisted. "Look, there are two exits from this area and no way of telling how big the whole complex is, or how long it'll take to search – we'll cover more ground if we split up. You know it makes sense. Look, you take Roba and follow the prisoners that way, look for his mother. And I'll try the other door and see if I can find the Doctor." She matched action to word, briskly heading in the direction she'd elected to explore herself.
She was right, strategically speaking, the division of labour did make sense, but Harry still felt uneasy at the thought of letting her out of his sight. They'd already lost the Doctor, after all, and these things always did seem to have a way of getting worse before they got better. On the other hand, if there was one thing he'd learned since making Sarah's acquaintance, it was that she was perfectly capable of looking after herself – and fiercely resented any suggestion to the contrary. She would be fine.
He was almost sure of it.
"Sarah," he called after her. Already through the doorway, she turned to see what he wanted.
"Yes?"
"Don't move!" The shout rang out even as he opened his mouth to urge her to be careful. Harry had about half a second to see Sarah's eyes go wide and her mouth drop open in shock before she quickly dodged back behind the door frame, while he whirled around, as Roba screamed and clutched at him, to see a pair of very fierce-looking sky raiders at the other doorway, levelling their guns at him.
Harry raised his hands in surrender. He'd been right about things getting worse, then.
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Sarah pressed herself behind the doorframe and tried not to breathe as she attempted to see what was going on without being seen herself, the urge to rush futilely to the rescue wrestled into submission by the instinct to not get caught.
"So the other creature was lying," one of the sky raiders snarled at Harry, back in the spacecraft hangar just beyond the doorway she was concealed behind. "How many more of you are there?"
Sarah risked another peek to see that Harry was trying very hard to stay between Roba and the guards, as well as to keep both guards in his line of sight, which was easier said than done since one had moved behind him and was peering suspiciously into the open cargo hold of the spaceship. "I'm alone, I can assure you," he stammered.
"So the other one said." The sky raider leaned in close, pressed its gun right up under his chin, forcing his head back. "No more lies! How many more of you are there? The truth!"
Harry wouldn't give her away; Sarah knew that like she knew her own name. If they decided not to take his word for it, though, and came searching, she'd be found in an instant – not to mention if anyone came along this hallway – yet she didn't dare make a run for it. If she moved, she'd be seen, she was sure of it. Besides, she couldn't just abandon Harry and Roba to their fate…even if she simply couldn't think of anything she could do to help them just now.
She pressed back against the wall again while out in the hangar Harry firmly repeated, "I'm alone," sounding much less uncertain this time. "Now, there really is no need for all –"
"You will be silent, spy!"
"Spy?" Harry sounded bewildered. "I'm no spy –"
"Proctor Silrin will get the truth out of you, one way or another. Talib, take the mutt and put it with the others –"
"No!" The shout was uncharacteristically fierce for Harry, and Sarah risked another peek at the standoff. Harry had a firm grip on Roba's arm, the terrified boy clinging to him for dear life, while his other hand was outstretched to ward off, or possibly placate, the gun-wielding aliens confronting him. "No, the boy is my responsibility, he stays with me," he insisted, a lot more forcefully than Sarah might have expected from him, and one of the sky raiders lashed out furiously, striking him across the face with its weapon and knocking him to the ground.
"You do not make demands!"
Sarah had to press a hand to her mouth to stop herself crying out and cringed in expectation of the worst as the creature raised the gun once more…but then the other one intervened, speaking up for the first time as it hauled Harry back to his feet, and she could breathe again. "Oh, leave it, Nart. If the alien wants to keep the mutt, let the Proctor deal with it. Come on, move, both of you."
The sky raiders pushed and shoved Harry and Roba out through the other doorway and away, and Sarah let her head drop back against the wall, tried to breathe, tried to think – what to do, what to do? Stay, follow, keep searching for the Doctor…?
She had to follow them. Of course she did, however great the risk. The Doctor could be anywhere, but if she kept Harry in sight, maybe she'd get the chance to help him escape somehow – if she was really lucky, they might even lead her to the Doctor, killing two birds with one stone.
That was settled, then.
If there'd been anyone around still, she was sure they'd be able to hear the way her heart was pounding as she crept out of her hiding place and hurried back through the hangar to the other doorway. She cautiously peered through and then ventured into the corridor beyond.
Harry and the others were already out of sight.
She tiptoed along, jumping at every shadow and every sound, expecting more sky raiders to descend on her at any moment, but her luck seemed to be in, somehow…until she reached a junction, with absolutely nothing whatsoever to indicate which way the others had gone.
She'd lost them.
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Proctor Silrin fumed inwardly at the waste of his time as he stalked into the detention cell to find the re-captured alien creature slumped unconscious on the floor, with no less than four guards standing over it, weapons at the ready, lest it pull off another miraculous escape should they turn their backs for an instant.
Silrin still wanted to know how it had achieved that.
He dismissed two of the guards, considering such overkill to be wasteful when they had other work to be getting on with, and ordered the remaining two to secure the creature to the sole chair in the room and then search its pockets. There would be a tool of some kind, he was sure of it, used to trip the lock. Once it was found and confiscated, they could get on with the business of finding out why the creature was here and what its plans were.
And if the device proved marketable, so much the better – anything to improve Silrin's standing with the Board of Directors, who made such demands and had no concept of what it took to keep this operation running profitably, maintaining maximum security with a bare minimum of staff.
The search took quite some time. A small bag containing oddly shaped, sticky, gum-like objects, a length of string, a compact spherical object made of leather, a half-eaten piece of fruit, a handful of what appeared to be gemstones, some kind of wire-cutting device…the contents of the creature's pockets were as bizarre and inexplicable as the peculiar-looking creature itself.
"Sir!" One of the guards spoke up just as the search was concluded, lifting a hand to his headset as he listened intently. "Another alien has been found – in the loading bay."
Another one! What were they all doing, what kind of plan was afoot – and how badly would it reflect on him if it weren't nipped in the bud, fast?
"Have it brought here at once," Silrin ordered.
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Talib had been operating undercover at the Lu-Corps moon base for quite some time now, painstakingly gathering evidence…for which he had no outlet, however, since he'd had next to no contact with his home agency in all that time. All communication to and from the homeworld was tightly restricted and closely monitored. He'd been completely alone, all this time, waiting for an opportunity to pass that evidence on – for a signal that the next stage of the operation was ready to commence, that his allies had made some kind of breakthrough. And now it seemed that the moment was at hand, at long last.
Because there had to be a reason these aliens were here, he just knew it: some kind of partnership struck by his associates back home, perhaps, now that Tarsin trade routes were bringing contact with other civilised worlds – all part of a larger scheme to finally bring down the corporation, freeing both trade and the wretched, downtrodden natives of this world with one stroke. He simply couldn't fathom what that new plan might be, though, or what possible purpose might be served by the aliens allowing themselves to be captured like this. The first he had supposed to be an accident, and had wracked his brains trying without success to think of some way he could aid the creature's escape without giving himself away, but now this second creature had appeared and likewise been captured at once…it had to be deliberate, surely, part of some wider scheme that had yet to be communicated to him.
Perhaps because there had been no opportunity for such communication.
Talib pondered this possibility for a moment longer, eyeing the alien's defensive posture and protective grip on the little native boy as they marched along, and then glanced speculatively at his partner. He'd maintained his cover for so very long, he didn't dare risk blowing it, not now, not yet. But there might be another way.
He spoke up quickly, before he could second guess himself. "I'll take it from here, Nart – you might as well get back to work."
Nart looked doubtful. "You sure?"
"These two won't give me any trouble…will you?" Talib hefted his gun meaningfully at their prisoners, and the little mutt – or native, rather, but it was hard to keep from falling into the common lingo he heard around him each and every day – squeaked and clutched at the alien creature's arm more tightly than ever.
It was hard to tell what the alien might be thinking – such a strange looking creature, even more so than the natives: all pink-skinned and furry-headed. Catching its eye, Talib felt a pang of anxiety that perhaps he'd miscalculated. The creature was tall and quite powerfully built; if it tried to take advantage of the reduced guard to attempt an escape, it might just succeed – after all, Talib could not risk using punitive force, not against a fellow agent, even if that agent was unaware of his identity. And then he would be blamed and he still wouldn't know.
He was fairly certain that the creature was thinking about it, at the very least…but it wouldn't really try, though, surely, not with the little mutt clinging on to it like that. Would it?
Nart seemed convinced that the alien was harmless, or at least was anxious enough to escape escort duty not to care, for he was quick to take up the invitation and head back to the loading bay, leaving Talib alone with the alien and the mutt. Still unsure whether or not the creature might attempt to escape as soon as they were alone, he anxiously waited until he was sure Nart was out of earshot and then quickly spoke up, without stopping to think about what he should say. "So what's the plan?"
The question that came out was a little blunter than he'd intended. The alien stopped short and blinked at him. "I beg your pardon?"
"Keep walking!" Talib hissed, and then, worried, said, "Didn't the agency send you? You were told to expect a local contact, yes?"
The alien scrubbed a hand through the springy brown fur that covered its head and the flesh around its eyes wrinkled in a manner that seemed to suggest perplexity. "I'm sorry, old chap," it said. "I haven't the foggiest what you're on about. Perhaps it might help if you put the gun down and let us go."
Talib was confused – and running out of time. They had almost reached their destination, and he daren't delay, not when the Proctor was expecting them. He'd assumed the creature's capture had somehow been part of the plan, but now the wretched thing was asking to be released, yet didn't seem to recognise him as the local contact…or at least wasn't willing to acknowledge that it had expected him.
"No, you're right," he backtracked, thinking that perhaps he understood the reason for this reticence. "Perhaps it's best not to tell me. The less we know about each other the better."
The alien frowned again. "I'm afraid I still don't quite understand."
"Just know that I'm ready," Talib said. "When the time comes – you just have to give me a sign. I have the evidence. I'm ready."
"Ready for what? Look, you're the one with the gun," the alien protested. "And all this really isn't necessary, you know. We haven't done anything – well, we did stowaway, I suppose, but no harm done, eh. Why not just let us be on our way?"
It was good, Talib had to give it that – if he didn't know better, he really would think that the creature's confusion was genuine. Perhaps he should let it go – perhaps the alien really hadn't intended this capture after all and allowing it to escape would be the best way he could aid the mission.
But they were almost at the detention cell now and the Proctor was expecting them. If he released the alien, his part in the escape would be known, there would be consequences.
He'd been prepared to live with consequences since accepting this assignment, but only in aid of the mission, and if the alien would not acknowledge him, would not explain what was planned, how was he to know what to do for the best? Until he knew for sure, he could not dare break his cover, just in case.
If only the alien would trust him enough to confirm just what the plan was.
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Harry had been waiting for the world – or, more accurately, the universe – to start making sense again more or less ever since his first encounter with the Doctor, back at UNIT, when all this had begun. He'd reached the conclusion that he could be waiting for quite some time and decided to simply roll with the punches, as it were, around about the time he opened a cupboard door on a deserted space station thousands of years in the future and the desiccated corpse of an eight-foot tall cockroach fell out, which was something that nothing in all his years of medical and naval training could have prepared him for. Since then he'd more or less come to terms with the peculiarity and frequent incomprehensibility of life with the Doctor, but even now, after everything he'd seen – perhaps because of everything he'd seen – there were still moments when he found himself longing for the feel of solid ground beneath his feet once more, so to speak.
This was one of them. The sky raider guard clearly expected him to know what it was talking about, but the creature appeared to be speaking in a kind of code for which he simply did not have the key. For one glorious moment, however, he almost believed that he'd somehow persuaded the alien to down weapons and allow him and Roba to escape…
And then a door opened a little further down the corridor, and that was the end of that. The guard was suddenly all brisk efficiency again, and they were ushered, still at gunpoint, into a rather Spartan little room – the brig, presumably – where a very official looking sky raider glowered down its beak at him, noticed Roba still clinging to his arm, and glared at the guard. "What is this mutt doing here?"
They should never have brought the boy here, into this – what had they been thinking? It was done, though, for better or for worse, and having brought him here Harry was responsible for his safety. He certainly wasn't about to let these creatures take Roba away, guns or no, and prepared to argue the point again…but then as the guard snapped to attention and began to explain, while Roba cowered behind his back, clinging on tighter than a limpet, all at once the sky raiders and their guns were no longer the centre of Harry's attention because he'd seen who else was in the room, slumped shackled to a chair.
"Doctor!"
He started forward, an instinctive reflex to check on his unconscious friend…but the nearest guard promptly yanked him back, every weapon in the room was instantly trained on him and the official-looking sky raider furiously snapped, "Hold! Do not move."
Deciding that discretion was probably the better part of valour here, Harry sighed and stepped back, raising his hands in surrender once more.
"I see that you do not deny the connection to your associate, spy." The officer glowered snootily down its beak at him once more. "A wise decision. I am Proctor Silrin of Tarse. You will speak when spoken to and answer all questions. What is your purpose here?"
"Here?" Harry floundered, unsure if this Proctor Silrin meant either the planet or the moon base, or what the safest answer would be either way. Mindful of the guns aimed at his head, he opted for the simplest answer. "Well, I was looking for my friend there, as it happens."
The alien's eyes narrowed. "And what is your friend's purpose here?"
"He wasn't exactly given much choice, was he – your men brought him."
"I do not speak of his capture!" Silrin snapped, and Roba let out a little yelp and hid behind Harry's back again, clutching at the hem of his jacket. "I speak of your purpose on this world, at this time – you are spies, admit that you are spies, sent to destroy this corporation."
"I'm no spy. I'm an officer in Her Majesty's Navy!" Harry indignantly protested, reaching behind him to give Roba's shoulder a little squeeze. It was the only comfort he had to offer.
"An enemy agent," Silrin coolly insisted. "And you will tell me your purpose here, one way or another. I demand that –"
The sudden blare of an alarm cut across his demand, and Harry's heart skipped a beat. What if it meant that Sarah had been sighted, or even caught? One of them had to remain free, surely.
"Sir." One of the guards had a hand pressed to the device it wore over its head, a bit like the head bands little girls wore, with an arm that stretched around near to its beak – some kind of miniature radio, it seemed. "There's been another cave-in, shaft four – supervisor asks how you'd like to proceed?"
Silrin growled. "Must I do everything around here? Very well, secure the prisoners. I will continue this interview later."
As Silrin swept out of the room, one of the guards quickly cuffed Harry's wrist to one end of what appeared to be some kind of heating device rather like a radiator, while Roba was tied to the other end. Then they hurried after their superior and the door locked behind them with a click, leaving the prisoners alone.
"Harry?" Roba quavered.
"It's all right, Roba. Try not to worry, eh." The words were hollow, he knew – this had to be the boy's worst nightmare come true and as things stood Harry simply couldn't see a way out of it. The Doctor, though, he'd come up with something, of course he would – always did. Harry kept both eyes fixed on the man and tried stretching out with his free arm at the first sign that he seemed to be stirring…but it was no good, he couldn't reach. He tried calling instead. "Doctor – Doctor, can you hear me?"
Seconds ticked by with no response, but at long last the Doctor slowly peeled one eye open and peered blearily at him for a moment. Then the other eye popped open and a broad grin spread across his face. "Harry Sullivan! What are you doing here?"
Harry couldn't help grinning himself, the relief was so immense. "Looking for you, actually," he said. "Though this isn't quite the reunion I'd hoped for, I will admit."
"And my mother," Roba piped up. "We search for my mother, also."
The Doctor leaned forward in his chair to regard the boy solemnly. "Harry," he said. "Either something very strange has happened to Sarah Jane, or you've made a new friend."
"Oh yes, of course. This is Roba, Doctor. Roba, this is the Doctor – he's the friend Sarah and I were telling you about."
Roba's nose wrinkled. "But you are doctor, no?" he protested.
Had the boy really come this far without making the connection between Harry's professional title and the name of the friend he and Sarah had been searching for?
"Well, yes. I'm a doctor," Harry awkwardly attempted to explain, slightly unnerved by the amusement playing across the Doctor's face. "But he's the Doctor. You see?"
Roba shook his head.
"Quite so," said the Doctor, suddenly serious again. "Harry, where's Sarah?"
Well, that was the question. The last Harry had seen of Sarah was when she ducked out of sight behind a doorframe, back in that spacecraft hanger, and then he hadn't dared look in that direction again in case the guards noticed and went to investigate. Where she might be by now was anyone's guess. "She's still out there, somewhere, looking for you," he said. "I hope."
"You hope…" The Doctor's stern, searching gaze drilled into him until he squirmed, but a moment later the mercurial Time Lord was full of bright, brisk cheer once more, just as if Sarah's whereabouts had never been a concern. "Right then, Harry – and Roba – I think it's about time we were getting out of here, don't you?"
"Er, Doctor." Harry rattled the chain securing his wrist to the pipe.
His own hands securely shackled behind his back, binding him to the chair, the Doctor shrugged. "Can you reach my boot, Harry?"
"Your boot?"
Without offering any explanation, the Doctor wriggled around in his chair and waved a leg in Harry's direction. Nonplussed, Harry obediently stretched out his free arm toward the leg – he could almost reach, almost…but not quite.
The Doctor tried shuffling his chair an inch or two closer, while Harry pulled at the chain on his wrist and tried again, stretched as far as he could, gritting his teeth against the sting of the chain digging into his wrist and the throb of the not-yet-healed animal bite on his upper arm. His fingertips brushed against the bootlaces, against the smooth leather…there! He managed to catch hold of the lip of the boot and hung on.
"All right," he panted. "What now?"
"Reach inside, just at the back there – that's it."
It was terribly awkward, trying to feel inside the boot without letting go of it, all with only one hand, at full stretch, but at last Harry found what he was looking for, what the Doctor wanted him to find, tucked behind the ankle bone. It was the sonic screwdriver. Of course. Pulling it out, he released his grip on the boot and felt strained muscles relax in relief.
"Setting three should do it," the Doctor instructed, and Harry fumbled with the strange little device, trying to remember how the settings worked. He'd used it before, he should know this – ah, there it was.
His chains sprang loose and he hurried to free the Doctor, in turn, and then took a moment to examine a gash on the side of his head, already well scabbed over. "You've been in the wars, Doctor."
The Doctor lifted a finger to gently tap the blossoming bruise on Harry's own cheekbone, where the guard had hit him back in the spacecraft hangar. "So have you, it seems, Harry, but perhaps we could trade tales later. Your young friend there is waiting for you."
"Oh yes." Satisfied that there seemed to be no serious damage – the Doctor really was impressively resilient – Harry moved to set the wide-eyed Roba free. The boy immediately caught at his sleeve once more as he turned to see the Doctor frowning disconsolately at an assortment of objects piled on a table in the corner.
"The scoundrels," he indignantly grumbled as he began to stuff the oddments back into his pockets. "Searching me while I was unconscious – if they wanted me to turn out my pockets, they'd only to ask! Here, have a jelly baby."
"Jolly good luck you had the sonic screwdriver in your boot, then," Harry remarked, taking a sweet for himself and one for Roba, who peered at it in confusion before popping it into his mouth in imitation of him. No sweets on Lindos, of course.
The Doctor winked at him. "Precaution, Harry – I knew they wouldn't let me get away with it a second time. Now, are you going to open that door, or are you waiting for the guards to come back and do it for you?"
"Ah. Yes." Harry eyed the door dubiously, and then peered down at the sonic screwdriver in his hand, wondering if the same setting would work on a door lock as handcuffs.
It did.
The Doctor beamed, clapping a friendly hand down on young Roba's shoulder. "Well done, Harry – after you."
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Sarah ducked behind a stanchion as another group of sky raiders jogged past. They seemed to be everywhere since that alarm went off – some kind of emergency, she gathered from the snatches of conversation she'd heard, a tunnel collapse in a mine shaft. But this base was on one of the moons, wasn't it? What could they be mining for up here, and why? It didn't make sense.
So she'd given up her search for Harry and the Doctor, for the time being, in favour of following along in the direction of the bustle, in fits and starts to avoid being seen, in hopes of finding out a bit more about what was going on up here. The combination of native prisoners, mines and a tunnel collapse was conjuring up all kinds of unpleasant images in her mind and she kept picturing Roba's face if anything had happened to his mother, couldn't stop thinking about old Caran, back at the encampment, and the rest of those broken down people, so helpless and defeated and grief-stricken. The fate of the captured natives had been abstract, up until now, but listening to the passing sky raiders with their talk of mines and cave-ins, what became of them all up here was starting to become horribly clear and the cruelty and the injustice of it burned away at her. Something simply had to be done about it.
She just didn't know what, yet.
The Doctor would be full of ideas, of course, but there was no telling where he was, so she was just going to have to carry on and do whatever she could without him…which would be a whole lot easier if all these sky raiders didn't keep getting in the way.
Another group passed, but this group was different to the others she'd seen. They were going in a different direction, for one thing – away from the disaster, it seemed, instead of toward it, because these sky raiders weren't alone. They were herding a group of natives and it was the most pitiful sight Sarah had ever seen. The slaves were filthy and frightened, broken and bleeding, supporting one another, carrying their wounded – and they might as well have been no more than animals for all the guards seemed to care.
How could anyone treat sentient beings in this way?
She watched, fuming, as the slaves were herded back along the corridor and around a corner, and then reversed direction to tiptoe after them, peering around the corner just in time to see the group disappearing through a doorway.
There was nowhere to take cover between here and that door.
Sarah hesitated, peering around in all directions. There was no one in sight. If she wanted to find out more about the slaves and their condition, this was her chance and it was now or never, quick, before someone else came along and her luck ran out.
She made a run for it, scurrying as silently as she could around the corner and down the corridor to pull up short at the doorway before cautiously peering around it. Inside was what looked like a large vestibule area with several more doors branching off it, all closed except one. She could hear movement and voices coming from the open doorway and ventured closer to try to listen.
This was a kind of barrack block for the slaves, she realised, holding her breath as she leaned toward the open door, catching just a glimpse of the rudimentary billet beyond before quickly pulling back, not wanting to be seen. Then a sound from back out in the corridor froze her in her tracks, just for a second, and she wildly cast around for a hiding place, darted behind a bulky cabinet just in time.
The latest sky raiders to arrive seemed to be medics, under orders to 'salvage what they could' of the injured slaves. The guards left them to it and wandered back out into the vestibule, chattering idly among themselves about the delay and the instability of the seam and the demand that it be shored up and the slaves put back to work as quickly as possible.
"Might as well feed that new batch while we're at it, then," one of them suggested in off-hand tones. "They'll be taking the next shift."
They began to bustle around the vestibule gathering supplies, and Sarah scarcely even dared breathe, expecting to be spotted at any moment. At last they disappeared into another of the dormitories off the vestibule area, and she risked a quick peep around the corner of her hiding place.
There was a clear path back to the exit and suddenly the only thought in her mind was to get out of here as quickly as she could, before she was found, and go looking for the Doctor again – rescue him if he needed rescuing, which he probably would, he usually did – so that they could find some way of putting a stop to all this.
She crept out from behind the cabinet and began to slink toward the exit, only to hear voices out in the hallway beyond, blocking her path – and then more voices from the medics in the first dormitory, on their way back out here again.
She would never make it back to her hiding place in time. There was only one path left open to her.
She ducked through the other open doorway, into the second billet, where the sky raider guards were busy feeding the slaves with their backs to the door, and dived under the nearest bunk.
Moments later, the guards turned and walked out of the room, locking the door behind them.
She was trapped.
dwdwdwdwdw