As he entered the trailer the Doctor realized yet another conflict was in full swing. The Toclafane was bobbing around nervously, while Ianto tried to appease a red-faced Rhys.

"Really sir, if you just calm down I'm sure Captain Harkness can take care of everything for you."

"How? Give me some Retcon? That's not going to take care of two days of lost revenue and three canceled contracts because of this thing here." Rhys emphasized his point by using the financial folder he was holding to take a swipe at the black sphere. The Toclafane dodged the attack and fled, seeking refuge behind the bemused Doctor.

"What's going on here?" bellowed Jack, instantly getting their attention while the Doctor decided to remove himself from the conflict and help himself to some tea.

"Jen told me three customers, THREE, including our biggest client, have called and canceled their contracts because we couldn't make deliveries again. How am I supposed to make up for that?" Rhys complained.

"Look, just send Ianto the bills and he'll make sure you get reimbursed for the two days and the repairs," offered Jack.

Rhys, however, was only slightly mollified. "That will help, but what about the future losses? That contract with Johnson is twenty percent of our business. We're going to have to make some people redundant because of this. What do I tell them? Oh, sorry, two bloody aliens wanted to have a chat and neither one had a mobile?"

At the last, the Doctor looked up from his tea making. Rhys knew he was an alien? How did that happen? thought the Doctor. He was going to have to talk to Jack about that. It wasn't any big secret, but he didn't want every Tom, Dick and Harry knowing.

"You won't have to tell them anything," assured Jack. "Is it Rubin Johnson you have that contract with?"

"Yes? What does that have to do with anything?" asked Rhys.

"I know him, or rather knew him. I'll square it with him. Give Ianto the names of the other two and we'll see if we can persuade them to reconsider."

"What are going to do?" Rhys asked suspiciously as he jotted the names down on a piece of paper and handed it to Ianto.

Jack laughed. "Trust me and don't even mention the cancelations to them. Just act like it never happened and keep to your schedule."

"How am I supposed to do that when my entire fleet is disabled? We bought up practically every solenoid in town yesterday. I won't be able to get any more here till tomorrow."

Ianto looked up from his mobile. "I've located a source. Your solenoids should be here within an hour, sir."

"There, problem solved," said Jack. He put his hand on Rhys' shoulder and guided him towards the door. "Now, why don't you treat Gwen to a nice lunch? When you get back your parts will be here."

Rhys looked back over his shoulder at the office. "But I shouldn't leave. What if the boss calls?"

"Ianto will handle it, don't worry," said Jack as he gave Rhys a gentle shove out the door and closed it.

"Well, that was nicely done," observed the Doctor, tea in hand as he half sat on a table, the Toclafane still hiding behind him.

"I thought some privacy was in order. Plus I don't like putting civilians in harm's way."

"Since when?"

"Since one of my team members married one. Shall we get on with it?"

"Oh, right," the Doctor twisted around and addressed the Toclafane. "You can quit hiding now. He's gone."

The black sphere bobbed out from behind the Doctor. Jack took his gun out, keeping it at his side, ready if needed.

"Jack, put that away," admonished the Doctor with an exasperated sigh. "Between you shooting at it and Rhys trying to hit it, it's had more than enough provocation if its intent was to harm anyone. I'm amazed it's still here."

The Doctor furrowed his brow at the Toclafane as the captain reluctantly holstered his weapon. "Why are you still here?" he asked the Toclafane. "You could have just popped out till everything calmed down."

"Didn't want to lose you. Need you."

"Yes, I gathered that, but for what?"

"To undo what he did. To change me back."

"What he did? You said he made you. Are you human?"

"I was. We all were. What he made us isn't. He said we would be better. We could survive like another species had survived. Merge with machines. "

"Daleks," said the Doctor, his voice, flat, toneless. "He made you in the Daleks' image."

"Yes, that's what he said. Like Daleks, only smaller, faster, better. Said we had to be changed so he could save us. Said that was why he called us all to Utopia, so he could get us all in one place and help us. He promised that if we let him change us, he would save us. Take us to where there the universe still lived. We agreed. We would have agreed to anything. We were all so scared, only he offered a plan, some hope. He didn't tell us of the pain."

"The pain from being changed?" asked the Doctor. He bit his lip as he remembered how painful being rapidly aged had been. The Master must have done something similar to the remaining humans. He remembered being shown one inside of the sphere that served as its home, its life support. Shrunken and shriveled as he had been, only worse.

"No, yes, it's hard to know how to say. So long I had to talk like them to hide."

"It's alright, just take your time," encouraged the Doctor. "Being transformed did hurt, right?"

"Yes, but that was just the start. He cut away at each of us. Removing what he said we didn't need. We were blind, helpless, but we could feel it all, every cut that he made."

"He made?" interrupted Jack. "You don't expect us to believe the Master performed surgery on every Toclafane."

"No, he didn't, not directly. Once he would put someone in a sphere he had them help create others. His mind was always in ours. Being in here hurts, it always hurts. He told us to deal with the pain by hurting others like he did. They did it. They found it worked. Making others feel pain made them forget their own pain and soon they looked forward to hurting and killing. It made him happy when they did. With him in their minds they became happy when they did it."

"And you didn't enjoy hurting and killing like the rest of them? What made you special?" Jack asked accusingly. The Doctor frowned at him, letting his disapproval show, but it was the Toclafane that answered.

"I don't know. His mind felt like a pressure to me, the insane rhythm he hears battering my mind. Making me want to be like the others, just give in. I didn't want to, it felt like I was losing myself. Then the connection broke. I think a part of my sphere failed. I could hear the others, his spoken orders, but my mind was free. No beating rhythm, no thoughts, just words."

"And the pain?" inquired the Doctor. "Did that go then?"

"No, it's still here. I want you to take it away."

"Why me?"

"You know things. The same things he did. You can help. Can't you?"

"I don't know. I'll need to examine you. Is that alright?"

"Yes." The Toclafane settled on the table and the sphere opened up revealing its shriveled occupant. The Doctor was shocked. This one was in much worse shape than the one the Master had shown him. Its eyes were totally clouded with cataracts, its skull was sunken in spots. It smelled of rot and death. He was amazed it was still alive. He put on his glasses and reached in his pocket for his sonic screwdriver only to remember it wasn't there.

"Captain?" he asked with a displeased raise of his eyebrow.

"Sure, here it is," said Jack, placing the device in the Doctor's outstretched hand.

The Doctor started to examine the Toclafane. The humming of the sonic, the only sound in the room as he started to carefully trace all the sphere's connections to the being within the sphere and then the being itself. It was telling the truth, The Toclafane were obviously the creation of the Master. The sphere was almost entirely Time Lord technology, no sign of the gluten protein strands Professor Yana had used. The Master had apparently made extensive use of the TARDIS' stores and manufacturing capabilities.

He shook his head at the perversion those resources had been used for. The pain the Toclafane felt must be incredible. It was totally dependent on the sphere for life support. It still had a heart and lungs, small, almost vestigial, still functioning, but totally inadequate to do the job of supplying oxygen to the brain or anywhere else. Calcium had been leeched from its bones leaving its skull soft and fragile. The other major organs were gone, their duties taken over by the sphere and every connection caused pain. Not just from carelessness, but with design of deliberate malice, as if the primary purpose had been torture and the life support functions had been an afterthought.

The circuitry of the sphere was damaged in several places. Some of those failures accounted for the diminished physical condition. The circuits for the semi telepathic link both he and the Master had used had been destroyed, along with a component that would activate the pleasure areas of the brain, a means for the Master to reward them for obedience, no doubt. Cause pain and be rewarded with pleasure. That would fit the Master's way of thinking. The Doctor took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he stared up at the ceiling. He had all the information he needed.

"What is it?" Jack asked.

"He can't fix me," stated the Toclafane.

"No, I'm sorry, I can't, he removed too much," replied the Doctor. "You are too dependent on the machinery and even with it…" He hesitated, not wanting to be the bearer of even more bad news.

"I don't have long to live," stated the Toclafane.

"You already knew that?"

"Yes, and I didn't think you could fix me."

"Then why go through all this to get my attention if you knew there was nothing I could do?"

"Hoped I was wrong. Now I know. There is something you can do. Take me out. Please."

"I can't, you'll die," said the Doctor, hoping he was wrong about what the Toclafane wanted. He wasn't.

"I know. I want to die free of this. You can take me out."

The Doctor shook his head. "No, I won't kill you."

"I'll kill it," said Jack. Though his words were dire, there was compassion in his voice.

"Jack, no!" protested the Doctor. "Don't you realize what this is? The last human. The ones that were here when the paradox pulled them back had only one, maybe two months before the universe ended. This is literally the last of the line. Its life shouldn't be ended early."

"This isn't life. I'm being forced to continue past when I should be dead. Humans don't live as a part of a machine, a prisoner of it. I want to die as I was born. A human. I'm not asking you to kill me. I'm asking you to let me die."

The Doctor stared at the creature. It was right, it wasn't human, not as it was. Far more metal than flesh. In constant pain from the very connections that kept it alive. No comfort, only cold metal against its skin. Would he be killing it if he removed it from the sphere or would he be letting it be human again before it died?

He looked over at Jack who was watching him carefully. "Doctor, humans have a right to say no more. To end their own treatment, even if it will result in their death. Isn't this the same thing? I'll do it if you won't, but I don't have your skill and I doubt it would still be alive by the time I freed it."

The Doctor bit his lower lip as he considered what to do. He realized he had already made up his mind when he found himself again scanning the sphere and its connections to the human inside. He could do it. If he was very careful but quick, once free, the human would live for a few minutes.

"Do you still have your natural hearing?" the Doctor asked.

"Yes."

The Doctor looked around at the office. This is not where he would want to spend his last minutes. The last human deserved something better. "Jack, is there a private sea cliff or beach we can use?"

"Ianto, see what you can find. Somewhere where the sun might actually be out," Jack called out to his aide. He then spoke quietly to the Doctor. "So, you are going to help it after all?"

"Yes, I'll help it," the Doctor said reluctantly. He then asked the Toclafane, "What is your name by the way? It's not really proper we keep calling you it."

"None, it's gone, forgotten. Even if I remembered it, it would mean nothing. 'It' is fine."

The Doctor was about to argue the point, insist that it had to have a name, then stopped himself. No, 'it' was somehow fitting. The last representative of the human race shouldn't have a name. Nothing to imply that any one branch, race or even sex had survived longer than another. This way, all of humanity was represented at the end.

"Alright, let's get this done before I start thinking clearly and change my mind," the Doctor sighed as he rubbed his head, wishing he could give this chore to someone else.

"You should do it," Jack told him. "You've been shepherding humans for so long, it's only fitting that you help ease the death of the last one."

"Do we have a location yet?" asked the Doctor, bushing off Jack's reassurances.

"Yes sir, about thirty kilometers up the coast. It ought to be deserted and there is minimal cloud cover at this time," responded Ianto.

"Thank you, can you show our friend?"

"It's up on the screen if it wants to come over here."

The Toclafane closed up its sphere and hovered over to Ianto at the computer. "I know where that is. I meet you there," it said, then disappeared.

Jack held out his hand when the Doctor started to put the sonic screwdriver back in his pocket. "You're kidding?" the Doctor protested.

"Unfortunately not," came the captain's reply. "If we run into someone from MI5 I have to be able to produce it. That hasn't changed."

"Sir, our agreement with MI5 also requires that he either have a two person escort or he be in handcuffs," Ianto reminded him. "If you leave now…"

"We are not putting him in handcuffs," insisted Jack. "Page Gwen, tell her to get someone back here to cover the phones. Have you squared things away with customers yet?"

"Yes, I did sir. They really didn't want to change firms. They just wanted to express their displeasure. Apparently it got a bit out of hand when they talked to Jen. It didn't take much to convince them to stay. A few promised bottles of scotch is all. Rubin says hello by the way."

"I knew he would see reason. He still drinking that single malt?"

"Yes sir, the others prefer blended," Ianto replied with a wrinkle of his nose.

"No accounting for taste. Throw a couple of expensive cigars in for good measure, will you?"

"Already done sir."

The Doctor sat on the table lost in his thoughts as Jack and Ianto worked out the administrative details of setting everything right for the haulage firm. Even for him it had been a full day and it wasn't even half over yet. Accused of murder and being asked to… There was something at the edge of his vision again. It took all of his control to not turn his head towards it. Instead, he decided to ignore it, see if he could draw it out. He looked at Jack and Ianto. They were deep in conversation and didn't appear to notice anything. The presence started encroaching on his vision but still just at the edge, annoyingly not enough for him to figure out what it was.

He waited patiently to see if it would reveal itself, hoping maybe he could get it to drop its guard. A knock at the door and it was gone. He wanted to scream in frustration but kept silent, not wanting to alert anyone that anything had happened.

Jack opened the door to reveal a breathless Jen standing on the stairs. "I got over here as soon as Rhys called. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, it's fine. We've just had something come up and need to leave," explained Jack. "The lorry parts should be here any second and the customers that dropped you have changed their minds. So everything is great, right?"

Jen stood there blinking owlishly. "Yes, I guess so. But, what if it happens again?"

"It won't, it won't. Our outside consultant here made sure of that. Isn't that right Doctor?"

"Yes, it's all taken care of. Nothing to worry about," responded the Doctor from his perch on the table.

"See, like he said, nothing to worry about," assured Jack as he propelled Jen to her seat. "We have to go now. Say hi to Rhys for us." He then nodded to Ianto and the Doctor. "Come on, let's get going, we don't want to be late."

The Doctor resented the order but finding no real cause to protest, he pushed himself off the table and preceded Jack out the door. He set a good pace, determined to show Jack that no matter what show they had to put on for MI5, he, the Doctor, was the one who was in charge.

As they passed by the Gallifreyan symbol etched in the fence he stopped and put his hand on it, lightly tracing the lines with his fingers. A reminder of home. It was amazing the Toclafane had known how to write it. Perhaps the brief time it had been connected with the Master's mind had given it the ability, primitive though it was.

"Do you want us to have that removed?" asked Jack.

"What?" thought the Doctor. "I don't want destroyed, what will most likely be the last time someone tried to communicate with me in my native language."

He gave the writing a final brush of his finger. "No, no. Just leave it," replied the Doctor. "Give people something to ponder over." The interruption over he continued to walk towards the SUV at a much slower pace than before, his goal of showing Jack who was boss by running him off his feet, forgotten.