Chapter 17- Leverage
Reader, I hope you never have to come face-to-stalk with a Dalek, because you probably won't get out alive. If you do, then you deserve a medal. Staring a Dalek down is looking death in the face. I know, because I've seen it happen.
The party guests shriveled together in the center of the ballroom, always trying to get behind someone so they can avoid the bullet (or whatever the hell Daleks shoot). River kept an iron hold on me as she dragged us back into the throng, somehow shouldering her way past the terrified guests to the center. The Daleks, each a different color like some perverted toy set for a child, closed ranks, penning us in with terror.
"The guests will cease their hy-sterr-ics!" the Daleks ordered. Almost immediately, everyone shut up. The Daleks used the silence to make an announcement that confused almost all the guests, but instilled terror in River and I.
"The Doc-tor will come forr-ward!"
People all around us began muttering: after all, several of them must've had doctorates, so which one should go forward? But River and I knew exactly who they meant. River's grip slackened on my arm with terror; my jaw clenched with resolution. I wasn't letting the Daleks anywhere near the Doctor—not over my dead body.
"W-Which doctor?" a timid voice called out. It belonged to a man on the older side of middle-aged, with thick eyebrows and a beer belly. He peered carefully at the Daleks, in both fear and defiance. "Several of us are doctors, who do you mean?"
The Dalek nearest him swiveled its eyestalk toward him. "You are not the Doc-tor!" it decided. "You are un-ne-ces-sa-ry. Ex-terr-min-ate!"
Suddenly, a white-blue ray shot out from the Dalek's streamlined gun, accompanied by a loud, shrill blast of sound. The ray hit the man square in the chest, causing his whole body to light up- the rays must be x-rays or something- and I saw his skeleton as the ray hit the man, eliciting his screams of agony. It lasted for just a second before he collapsed to the ground, dead. The casualty kicked the captives' fear up another couple notches, and soon we were all screaming, save River. Somehow, she had kept her cool as she watched the man's execution. But then again, she'd known who the Daleks were—she must have been witness before.
And, oh yeah, I was screaming. Screaming like a child. What would you do?
"The Doc-tor will come forr-ward!" the white Dalek at the head of the formation ground out.
We captives were no longer a foolish group: we knew what happened when someone tried to step out of line. We all stayed silent and still, waiting for a miracle. Most of the group wanted the Doctor to show up; but I was praying (and I knew River was, too) that the Doctor would stay away.
One of the lower-ranked Daleks said to the one in charge, "There is no sign of the Doc-tor in the vi-cin-i-ty."
"Summon the Fac-si-mi-le," the head Dalek ordered. The rest of the monsters began repeating the mantra horrifically, like something out of a Twilight Zone episode. Their summons echoed off the walls, and I clapped my hands over my ears. I didn't want to hear it, not at all.
Suddenly, an older man pushed past me, stronger than he looked. His white hair was thinning and he was incredibly tall—even taller than the Doctor. People muttered all around us as he shoved his way out of the crowd and bravely faced down our captors.
"Who's that?" I asked River. By the way the crowd was watching and muttering, I could tell this brave idiot was important.
"Headmaster Okras," she replied, a hint of confusion in her voice. "This whole Ball's in his honor. But what's he doing…" Her face, set into bewilderment, suddenly dropped into terror, even greater than when the Daleks asked for the Doctor. "No, no, no, he can't be. Please, not him!" she begged. I don't know who to.
Headmaster Okras strode to the head Dalek, staring it straight in the eyestalk. Daleks and humans both waited with bated breath (well, so to speak).
"I am Professor Sarvod Okras," he declared, "and I am of Dalek creation."
Desperate sounds of denial arose from the crowd, but we were soon silenced when the Daleks threatened us with a twitch of their guns. River's face was the picture of betrayal—she trusted this man and looked up to him, and now everything good about him had come crashing down around her.
"Bring us the Doc-tor's com-pan-ion!" the head Dalek ordered. Okras swiveled on his heel and marched into the crowd, which parted easily. No one wanted to be the Doctor's companion.
And I was foolish enough to ask to join him.
Okras reached me in only half a dozen or so long strides. River grasped my shoulders protectively, pulling me away as her former idol walked closer.
"Leave her alone, she has nothing to do with this, she's innocent!" River said, her words all tumbling forth in a hurry. Okras drew closer, unfazed. River pulled me further, but she stepped on the hem of her own dress and was forced to stop, which gave Okras the time he needed to catch up. His old, veined hands reached for me—and pushed me aside with enough force to send me to the ground. But if I wasn't his target, then…oh, Lord, no.
Okras reached for River, grasping her upper arms until her flesh near his fingers began to pale. She fought and fought and fought against him (she put up a mightier effort than when Naomi wanted to stay home from Dad's funeral), but in the end, the Dalek in Okras won out: he dragged her back to his Dalek masters, and I watched from the floor, a helpless, useless pile of terror dressed in a satin gown. No one helped me. No one could.
"I should have known it was you all along," River spat at the Daleks. "Professor 'Okras'? It's just an anagram for Skaro!" She laughed ruefully. "I should have seen it long ago."
The head Dalek slowly slid towards her, but River never cowered. She stared it bravely in the eyestalk, challenging it with all she had.
"You are his marriage partner?" it questioned, looking for verification.
"Depends," she teased, caressing each syllable with the tip of her tongue. "I don't know where he is in our timeline—in fact, I don't know where he is at all."
"False!" the Dalek exclaimed, sliding towards her. She backed away, but Okras stopped her after a few paces. "You are his marriage partner, you know him best! You know where he is! You will divulge the information to the Da-leks!"
"So you can kill him?" River said condescendingly. "Even if I did know where he was, I'd never tell you. And besides, he's remarkably hard to kill. I should know."
"You will divulge his whereabouts!" the head Dalek ordered River. "Tell us, or the girl dies!"
Okras suddenly marched over to me, a huddled mass on the floor. I scrambled away from him, but he quickly yanked me to my feet and marched me to River's side, where two lesser Daleks slid over and pointed their guns at me. Okras held me fast, and I was stuck. I was leverage.
"She knows nothing about this, she's not involved!" River begged. "Neither of us know where the Doctor is, we never know where he's gone!"
"Tell us!" the Daleks said in unison.
"Please, we don't know where he is! Let these innocent people go, they've nothing to do with this!"
"Tell us!"
"We don't know!"
"Tell us!"
"You know, it's awfully rude to show up to a party uninvited," a familiar voice said. I nearly cried with relief—and fear. The Daleks swiveled around and parted enough for me to see the Doctor standing in the large, grandiose doorway of the ballroom, framed against the night. He'd come to rescue us, which was exactly what he shouldn't have done.
"Doc-toor!" the head Dalek ground out.
"Yes, yes, you know who I am," the Doctor interrupted, walking into the ballroom. He glanced at me, my tense form trembling slightly with anticipation, and raised his eyebrows. He was asking me a question: Did you get back all right?
I nodded. He was referring to when I'd fallen out of the TARDIS, and when he'd come to this ball to recruit River for my rescue. Well, I'd survived falling through space—maybe I could survive the Daleks, too.
"I always knew I'd find you again," the Doctor snarled, walking straight up to the white Dalek and glaring at it through the eyestalk. "You're cockroaches—just when I think you're gone, you turn up again. But you've been hiding well since our little skirmish with Churchill."
"We have found your lifelong com-pan-ion!" the head Dalek ground out, swiveling its white dome to point the eyestalk at River. "She has been placed under sur-veil-lance! We watched her until you appeared!"
"With the charming Professor Okras," the Doctor inferred, shooting a dagger glance at the creature that held me captive. "So you stalk my wife, put everyone at the university in danger, for me. Why? Your kind don't go searching me out, you're too afraid of me. But why this time?"
A tense silence settled over the captives as the Daleks said nothing, debating on whether or not to answer. Finally, the head Dalek slowly said, "We need your help."
"That's rubbish," the Doctor immediately said. "You would never ask for my help."
"But what of the Cult of Ska-ro?" the head Dalek replied. "They asked for your assistance, and you complied."
"Because Dalek Sec had a conscience and knew the people you killed shouldn't have died," the Doctor spat. "There's already a man lying dead on the floor and I don't see any of you mourning."
"That is of no importance!" the head Dalek exclaimed. "You will help us!"
"Or what?" the Doctor taunted.
"Your wife dies!" the head Dalek promised.
"Doctor, don't help the Daleks, whatever you do!" River pleaded. I could tell she'd been waiting to say that, but he wouldn't listen until she had the proper right. When he could just refuse to help the Daleks, he wouldn't listen at all. But now that it was her life they gambled with, she had that right.
But even now, I don't think the Doctor could hear her. When they threatened River, a pallor came over his face and he straightened his posture, and I saw the smallest muscle twitch in his jaw. His eyes were glazed and unseeing, his hands clasped tightly in front of him. I could tell right then that no matter how much River begged and pleaded, he would help the Daleks. River could probably see that, too, but she was desperate, and desperation generated hope, and all she hoped was that the Doctor would be safe.
Even though this was the first time I'd seen River and the Doctor together, I could tell they loved each other. My mom used to say to me that the space someone had to love was like a well—you didn't know how long it went until you hit the bottom. If a normal person's capacity to love was a well, then the Doctor and River had oceans.
But oceans are as dangerous as they are large.
"Fine," the Doctor agreed to my and River's horror. "I'll see what I can do. Just let everyone else go."
"Doctor, you bloody arse!" River exclaimed angrily. "They're Daleks, you can't help them!"
"I can't risk you, either!" the Doctor retorted, looking at her in that head-angled-away, eyes-peering-up way of his.
These two will be the death of me, I swear.
"Just let everyone go, and I go quietly," the Doctor promised, the passion fading from his voice. "Set everyone free."
The white Dalek pondered him for an interminable amount of time. "Let all captives go, but keep the companion," it said after a long while.
Okras marched me back into the onlookers and threw me into the bunch, making me stumble on the hem of my own dress. A woman caught me and helped me regain my balance, soothing and shushing me; by the time I looked up, the Daleks had formed a depraved sort of escort around River and the Doctor (who now faced the door, their backs to us), with Okras keeping a hand each on their forearms.
"Erica," the Doctor called, "get to the TARDIS. She'll keep you safe."
"No talking!" the white Dalek ordered. "Commence march!"
As one, the Daleks and Okras began marching, the latter roughly pulling his prisoners along. River and the Doctor soon found their stride and marched along with the Daleks, their shoulders square with dignity. Through the gap between Daleks, I saw the Doctor's right hand and River's left clasp in resignation behind Okras' back as they marched away.