-REMEMBER ME-

PART II

CHAPTER FIVE

All in the Name of the Doctor

The terrain through the jungle is rough, and supporting Jexlan soon becomes very tiring. You don't stop, though, so there's no way I will. You even have the strength to chatter on…while I have to save my breath. You always seem to have boundless amounts of energy.

It's incredibly tiring.

Soon, though, the floor of the primitive jungle starts to even out, and supporting Jexlan becomes easier.

"How much farther?" I ask Jexlan.

"Not far now…not far…"

"Tell us about your people, Jexlan," you ask.

Jexlan eyes you warily.

"Don't you know?"

"We're really not local," I explain. "We're…travelers."

"It is true," he says, breathless. "It is said that the Old One was a traveler."

"What's the 'Old One?'" I ask.

Jexlan does not answer, instead he stares at you with wide eyes.

You studiously ignore him.

"How much further is it, did you say?" you ask.

"Not long now, it will not be long before we are inside the protection of the city…"

"Protection?" I ask. "Why would we need-?"

"Stop! In the name of the almighty Trexlore! You are under arrest!"

I gasp, and the three of us stop dead in our tracks.

They came from nowhere, popping out of the tree, surrounding us completely. Dressed like some ancient Aztecan out of time, with odd feathers in their hair and draped in decorative metal as armor.

Every single one of them armed with a bow and arrow. Some of them even have oddly advanced guns.

I put my hands up.

"Ah! Hello!" you say cheerfully, as though greeting guests at a tea party. "I'm the Doctor, and this is Clara, and this man here is Jexlan! He's severely wounded, and, as you can see, is clearly not a threat to you. Neither are we."

There's a muttering among the warriors, quiet whispers, but I pick up a word here and there.

"Did you hear what he said?"

"Did you hear what he called himself?"

"The Doctor! He called himself the Doctor!"

"Not…not the Doctor, surely?"

From the way your jaw tightens, I guess you've heard them too.

"The Doctor, you say?" says what appears to be the leader. He's got a faint smirk on his face. "Well, we'll see about that. You do know impersonating the Doctor is a level one heresy?"

"A what?" you say, bemused.

"It is an act of offense!"

"Yes, I know what a heresy—oh, look, nevermind, you see, this man is injured—"

"It's him! That's the one we've been looking for!" shouts one of the guards.

"Oh, no!" screams Jexlan suddenly, and he takes off like a sprinter, dashing out from between us and nearly knocking me off my feet.

"Jexlan!" you and I both call to his retreating form, as he runs as fast as his mangled injuries will allow him.

"Dammit," you mutter, and take off after him. I follow after you, and we chase through the underbrush.

"Stop! Stop! After them! Quickly! They are fugitives and must be punished!"

The warriors then chase after us, and we're caught in the middle of it all. I stay hot on your heels as we run through the underbrush.

"Jexlan!" you call.

And then, quite suddenly, I am grabbed from behind. I let out a scream and you turn, and I catch a glimpse of your eyes wide with fear .

"Clara!" you cry, and stop running. Then they grab you, and we're both captured.

"Well, maybe you were right, Clara," you mutter irritably. "We should have left when we had the chance."

"Get him!" yells the warrior's leader.

Half of the group runs after Jexlan. Then, the leader approaches us both menacingly. With a twitch of his finger, the warriors that have grabbed us force us to our knees.

"Well, well, that wasn't very smart, now, was it? You'll soon see what happens to traitors who run."

"I assure you, we are not traitors," you say diplomatically.

"We're not even from this planet!" I cry.

You nudge me sharply.

"Ouch," I grumble. You give me a look that says quite plainly shut up.

"Well, well, now we know you're both nutters. Not even from this planet, eh? Now you're just talking nonsense. Now we know, don't we boys?" he calls to the group. They chuckle. He leans down in front of you, face close and menacing. You wince, turning your nose away. "The Doctor, indeed."

He stands, drawing his weapon, a sword. I stare in wide-eyed panic at it, wondering what he intends to do with it.

"Get 'em," he commands.

I barely have time to comprehend what that means before I feel a great pain as a shoe connects with my head.

"Clara!" I hear you scream, as everything goes black.

Musty.

Something smells musty.

And dank.

Yuck.

I groan.

It feels like my skull is cracked open, my head aches so badly. I gasp, raising a hand and touching the side of it gingerly.

I blearily open my eyes.

Well, I can see why it's musty and dank.

The first thing I see is a damp stone floor, and as I raise my eyes higher they come into contact with rusty bars very close together.

I hear a shuffling noise behind me, and I'm up faster than I thought was possibly, every nerve on edge.

I deflate when I see it's just Jexlan.

"Are you alright?" he asks, coming closer.

"Yes…I'm…ouch…yes, I'm fine..." I say cautiously. I look around what appears to be a small cell, occupied by only myself and Jexlan. I see no hint of a multicolored scarf. "Where are we? Where's the Doctor?"

"We're in the Capitol," you say. "Underground, in the jails. This is where they take us. I've never seen it before. I now see why it was said to be so terrible."

Far off I hear a scream echo through the stone walls. I jump about a mile, my hearts racing.

"What was that?"

Jexlan stays silent.

"Where's the Doctor?"

"They took him," he says.

"Took him? Took him where?"

"To Trexlore," he says, with a slight shudder.

"Wait…they said that before. I heard him. He told us to stop in the name of Trexlore. Who's Trexlore?"

"He is the leader of the Capitol, and he is our enemy. But do not speak so to the guards! They will kill you for such a heresy!"

"And they've taken the Doctor to him?"

"Yes," says Jexlan.

"Why?" I ask.

"Because he called himself the Doctor," says Jexlan.

I'm confused.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It is a level one heresy, punishable by death, to impersonate our God."

"Your what?" I say, astonished.

"Our God," says Jexlan. "Our God is called Doctor, and to impersonate him is a crime that apparently warrants death. Even our healers must not be called such, for there is only one Doctor, and we await the day he returns."

"The Doctor," I say, trying to work out what this means. "The Doctor is…is your God?"

"Yes."

"I don't understand…how can he be your God?"

"It is a long story," says Jexlan. "One that has many tellings. It is told to our children from the moment they enter the cradle. The story of the Doctor, and the Blue Box. The story of how we came to be."

"But you can't possibly mean…the Doctor…my Doctor…it has to be a coincidence."

"I hope not," he says. "For his coming heralds salvation."

"Okay…" I mutter, one eyebrow raising. "This is getting creepy."

"I apologize, miss, I did not mean to frighten you."

"No, it's alright," I say, silent as I think through all Jexlan's said. Panic then grips me. "Hold on! You said…you said impersonating the Doctor is punishable by death!"

"Yes, miss, if he is incapable of providing proof…which, in this day and age, they will pay no attention to. They will execute him without a fair trial. He'd be lucky to get a trial at all, actually."

It hits me, and some part of me, a deeply ingrained, protective trait—one that has been there as long as I remember concerning you—completely panics at that notion. I can't let you be executed.

Attempting to keep my head, I take a deep breath.

"Alright, we've got to break out of here," I say, determined. I stand, wincing as the blood rushes to the lump in my head. "We've got to save the Doctor."

Run you clever boy, and remember me.

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