Assumed Identities Ch. 4
Title: Assumed Identities Ch. 4/5
Wordcount: 3,476
Rating: PG
Summary:
“Be careful,” the Doctor hissed as River crept closer through the underbrush, pulling herself forward on her elbows and forearms.
"Where's the fun in that?" she whispered back with a grin.
Chapter 4
“So where to now?” River asked breathlessly as they rested for a moment in a small copse of trees. They had, somewhat unexpectedly, met with no resistance as they quietly exited the building (Really, River thought, someone should speak to them about how to properly establish a perimeter) and made their way to a nearby park.
“We need to find that ship. Hang on,” he pulled the transponder out of his pocket and scanned it quickly with the sonic. “It’s not transmitting. The ship must have to send it a signal to bring it out of dormancy. Maybe if I just…” he pushed buttons and aimed the sonic at it again, trying to find the right frequency. Meanwhile, River pulled out her handheld.
“Ah, sweetie?” she asked, checking her readings.
“Just a moment, River. I think I’ve almost got it.”
“Be that as it may, I’d suggest-“
“Just a moment. Really, you’re so impulsive.”
“Have it your way,” she pocketed her scanner and started walking further into the copse.
“Wait, River!” he jogged to catch up. “What are you doing? For all you know there are more soldiers coming from that direction!”
“Actually, there aren’t, which I know because I checked for life signs. As for what I’m doing, as I was trying to tell you just now, the ship is half a mile in that direction.” She pointed, and didn’t bother to hide the smug smile currently spreading across her face.
“You…but how?” he sputtered, impressed and curious.
“You’re not the only one with impressive personal electronics, Sweetie,” she kissed him on the cheek, then started off again. “We need to hurry if we want to have any chance of catching the Duchess’s trader before he receives word from Macris and Delvaria that we’ve smoked him out.”
There really wasn’t much else to do but kiss her at that point. Which was exactly what the Doctor proceeded to do.
***
They crept up to the cloaked ship as carefully as possible considering that they couldn’t exactly see the thing. River’s scanner was picking up faint traces of radiation, which gave them a general idea of where it was, but nothing more specific. A rather large area of depressed earth and grass indicated the size of the landing gear, but not the body of the ship itself.
“Be careful,” the Doctor hissed as River crept closer through the underbrush, pulling herself forward on her elbows and forearms.
“Where’s the fun in that?” she whispered back with a grin, holding up the scanner. “It’s no use - I’m not getting clearer readings with this. We’re going to need to get him to take down the cloak somehow.”
The Doctor considered his options. If he got very, very lucky (and worked at it for an hour or three) he might be able to jury-rig the sonic to emit exactly the right frequency and cipher to de-cloak the ship. Or he could just try the direct route.
“Right then,” he said softly to himself. “River? Stay down and wait for my signal.” Without another word (and pointedly ignoring her sputtering protests) he stood up and began to shout as loudly as he could. “Hello there! Strange person in a cloaked ship! I know you’re there, and I know you’re responsible for the bone meadows! Hello! Standing right out here! Shouting your secrets at the top of my lungs! Any-“ and without finishing his final thought, the Doctor dematerialized in front of her eyes.
“I hate him,” River muttered under her breath, pulling her scanner back up and looking for any sign that he was sending her a signal. She could almost hear his “No you don’t,” and wondered if there would ever come a day when he didn’t drive her to distraction.
***
The Doctor squinted, struggling to adjust his eyes to the darkness. He had no idea where on the ship he was, but it felt small and stuffy, and based on the fact that his eyes weren’t adjusting it was very, very dark.
“Brilliant,” he muttered under his breath. “I’ve been transported into a cupboard.” He reached out his right hand and pressed it firmly against a wall less than a foot from where he was standing. Reaching out his left, he was less than surprised to find another wall no more than ten inches on his other side. “A small cupboard,” he amended, removing his hands and digging in his pockets for the sonic.
“I think you’ll find I took the liberty of transporting your scanning device into my cockpit,” said a disembodied voice from above his head. “Fascinating little thing - never seen anything quite like it.”
“Hello there!” the Doctor said, trying to sound far less irritated than he felt. Never let them see they’ve got you at a disadvantage, he reminded himself. “Yes, it’s rather unique, I’m afraid. I’m assuming you’re the so-called trader who’s behind this bone meadow business, then?”
A chuckle sounded over the intercom, then silence. The Doctor tried again.
“I’m fully aware that you’ve been working with the Duchess’s councilors, though I’m at a loss as to exactly why. I don’t suppose you’d mind filling me in on that detail while I wait?” Thrusting his hands into his pockets again, the Doctor searched for anything that might serve to provide him with some light. Cupboards had doors, and even without the sonic he knew he could work his way out of this one if he just had the right materials…
The laugh sounded again, less amused this time. “Yes, they’re not exactly subtle, are they? If the Duchess wasn’t such a mindless little thing she would have figured that out months ago. But you knew that already, didn’t you?”
The Doctor shook his head. He had no idea who this man was, but he didn’t appear to be stupid. He’d plainly been in contact with Macris and Delvaria and was only willing to confirm the parts of the story that the Doctor had already figured out. If he’d talked to them, though, he probably knew about River. A brief jolt of fear struck through him. River was good - she was clever, and if he knew anything it was that she was already figuring out a way to get inside the ship without being caught. He’d been hoping for the element of surprise, though, or at least a less intelligent adversary.
Putting thoughts of his wife out of his mind for a moment, the Doctor once again concentrated on searching his pockets. “Well, it wasn’t all that difficult to figure out that she was completely unprepared for the job. She’s very young, isn’t she? Attractive too. Not surprising that she’s unmarried - a husband would want to be involved in running the colony, and Macris and Delvaria likely couldn’t risk competition, now could they? I’m a bit surprised they didn’t put you up for the job, actually. I saw you, down there, you know.”
He paused briefly as his fingers brushed across a promisingly sharp edge - yes, it was a bent paperclip. He vaguely remembered Amy shoving it into his hand the last time he’d visited them and she’d been trying to clean out the tray of her pencil sharpener.
Another laugh, this one slightly more bitter than the last. “Really, Caretaker, is that the best you can do? Try to make me jealous or resentful that I’m being kept at arm’s length from the seat of power on this pathetic little planet? Trust me, it’s not going to work.”
This time it was the Doctor’s turn to laugh, though he did it silently, still searching through his right pocket while he held the paperclip in his left. The man plainly wanted to talk, even though he knew he shouldn’t. The Doctor wondered how long it had been since he’d had a conversation with anyone except Macris and Delvaria. Likely six months or more, depending on how long he’d been here before sending the message to the Duchess.
“No, I don’t imagine that it will. Still, you can hardly blame me for trying. Now, if I were a betting man, I’d say that you’ve been stuck here far longer than the bone meadows have been popping up. Were you stranded here, or are you choosing to stay until something specific happens?” Again, his fingers closed around a promising-feeling item. Smooth paper, slightly powdery - chewing gum! Just one stick, though. He’d have preferred two, but he was in no position to complain. He kept his hand firmly in his pocket as he unwrapped it, hoping that the man wouldn’t be able to hear the crinkle of the wrapper. Quickly, he popped the gum in his mouth and chewed, knowing that he only had as long as the man’s next statement to get it into an acceptable level of chewy stickiness.
“Nice try. Let’s just say that my stay here will prove highly profitable regardless of its duration, and I’m not talking about the Duchess. I’m far more interested in how you got here, though. My scanners are set to passive mode, but I would have been able to detect another ship landing, and you’re plainly not from around here. How exactly did you and your companion arrive?”
The Doctor shook his head. The man definitely knew about River, then. He didn’t know about the TARDIS, which would seem to indicate that either Macris and Delvaria were deliberately keeping that information from him or they didn’t consider it relevant to his mission. Regardless, he’d exploit the man’s curiosity any way he could.
“I have my ways. Honestly, I’m just impressed you’ve managed to keep yourself entertained in this tiny ship as long as you have. I don’t imagine you’re allowed to wander about, after all.” Having fitted the chewing gum around the end of the paperclip, the Doctor was now feeling around the corners of the cupboard, trying to determine which was the door. None felt loose, and he couldn’t detect a draft or gap anywhere. Then it occurred to him - the ceiling.
By this point, the man had stopped chuckling. His tone had become downright agitated when he finally replied. “How I spend my time is none of your concern. Now, why don’t you tell me something for a change - say, where your friend might be right now?”
“Really, it’s rude to talk about someone as if they aren’t in the room,” River’s voice purred, and the Doctor jumped - for joy or because she’d startled him, he couldn’t tell. “Sweetie, just stop whatever you’re doing. It’s not going to work, and I’ll have your sonic in a moment. That is, if our new friend here wants to keep both of his legs in good working order.”
He could see her in his mind, bold smirk on her lips, gun aimed directly at his captor.
A pause, then a deep sigh from the man. The familiar click of handcuffs sounded, and the Doctor felt a pang of regret that they’d probably have to leave them behind when they left. He was rather fond of that pair. Moments later, the Doctor felt a clicking vibration under the heels of his boots, and in the split second between when the door opened under them and when he fell to the floor below, he realized that the exit hadn’t been in the ceiling after all.
***
River shook her head fondly as he rubbed at the sore spot on his knee for the third time in as many minutes. “Need me to kiss it better again?” she asked, typing another command into the ship’s computer terminal.
“No thank you,” he said primly, trying to look more dignified than he felt. Really, who kept someone captive in a cupboard in the ceiling? It was easily one of the more absurd prisons he’d ever found himself in, and it didn’t help that River had doubled over laughing when she’d seen his gum-and-paperclip contraption.
They both worked quietly for a moment, ignoring the shouts coming from the cupboard where they’d stashed the owner of the ship while they worked. They were going to need him once they left - and the Doctor wasn’t looking forward to keeping the man contained once they started the walk back to town - but for now at least they could keep him out of the way.
Unfortunately, the ship’s database was being particularly stubborn about allowing them access to any sensitive files. They’d been able to determine that it had last refueled nine months ago in the Denbrian system, which was just a short distance from Elfenor VII. The man had plainly come straight here, leading the Doctor to believe that he’d landed deliberately, planning to use the fuel to maintain life support and computer functionality for an extended duration. River disagreed, pointing out that a ship on passive mode wouldn’t need such a large (and expensive) fuel load to operate for a century, much less a few months.
“I could always threaten to shoot him again,” River offered, sounding as frustrated as the Doctor was starting to feel.
“No shooting, River,” he chided. “Give me a few more minutes and then we’ll talk alternative strategies.” He aimed the sonic at the computer again, shifting frequencies, and this time the computer responded with a welcoming chime. “I’m in!”
She leaped up from her chair and quickly crossed the small room to his side. “Search for mission logs,” she instructed.
“That never would have occurred to me, dear,” he said sarcastically.
“I know, sweetie,” she responded, kissing his cheekbone lightly.
Dozens of logs appeared before their eyes, and as they read through them, a sinking feeling began to grow in the pit of the Doctor’s stomach.
“We don’t have much time, do we?” River asked quietly.
“No, we most certainly don’t. I’m going to download this. You get him out, and make sure he knows that you mean business if he doesn’t talk once we reach the Duchess.” He looked at her grimly. “My only question is why.”
***
River poked the man in the back with the barrel of her gun while the Doctor peered into the copse of trees through which they would have to walk in order to get back to the city center. That was, if they were planning to walk, which they weren’t.
“This is your last opportunity to tell us who you are and what the bone meadows are really for. We’ll be in the city in a matter of moments, and I really don’t think you’re going to like what’s waiting for your there. If you help us, we’ll help you. If not…” she left the implied threat hanging and waited for his response.
“I’ll tell you my name, but that’s it. And I’ll only do that much for a guarantee of protection.” He twisted around, attempting to catch her eye, but River dug the gun further into his spine and he stopped moving.
“No deal,” the Doctor said quietly. “It’s all or nothing, I’m afraid.” He kept his tone steady and his eyes firmly fixed on the man. He didn’t want him to try to look behind his back again and catch a glimpse of the very real fear in River’s expression. They needed to get information out of him now, because once they got back to the city it was anyone’s guess how long it might take before they would be able to extract it from Macris or Delvaria. Time was not on their side.
The man gave the Doctor a steady, challenging gaze for one minute, then two, finally, nearing the three minute mark something broke, and he looked away. “Fine. I’ll tell you what I know, but it isn’t the full story. Only Macris and Delvaria know that.”
River eased up a bit on her gun. “Go ahead, we’re listening.”
“Okay, it’s like this. My name is Yeris Favlor. I come from Acturhl, in the Madelian Confederacy.”
“You’re an ecological engineer,” River breathed, suddenly understanding if not everything, then at least a large piece of the puzzle.
“Yes. Our primary exports are genetically engineered ecological rarities - extinct or nearly extinct species. We can extract any weaknesses in the DNA that caused the extinction in the first place, then the species’ planet of origin puts in an order for however many members of the species they need in order to start a breeding program, we deliver, they pay.” He shrugged, as if such happenings were commonplace. To him, they probably were.
“Pay quite a bit, I expect,” the Doctor said. “Go on. Why bone meadows? Why this planet?”
“Well, you see, we don’t exactly share our trade secrets with just anyone. In fact, only a few hundred of our own people know exactly how the process really works. Some species are easy to engineer. Plant life, for example, can almost always be grown in a lab. Reptilian life forms are similar. Mammalian life, however, is different. Sometimes it works, but more often than not in recent years we’ve been unable to force-grow some of the species we’re contracted to deliver.” He shook his head, remembering. “It’s not pretty when a subject goes wrong. We had to find a more stable alternative to our labs.”
“Bone meadows?” River guessed.
“That’s what they became, yes. You see, the underlying flaw in our lab growths had to do with unstable and incomplete DNA. Understand, we mostly get requests for species that haven’t been gone long. Sometimes, though, we receive requests for growths of long-extinct animals. Some are for zoos specializing in rare creatures, others for collectors. These are people willing to pay big money; far more than we’re offered by most planetary governments. When one comes in we simply can’t say no!” He stopped briefly, regained his composure, and continued. “I don’t know exactly how we found out about this place, but over a year ago I was instructed to fuel up this ship, fly it to Elfenor VII, and await further instructions from some local contacts.”
“Guess who?” River asked drily while the Doctor simply shook his head.
“Exactly. Once I got here, they explained that for a fee, they were willing to ‘donate’ genetic material to help us get the DNA sequences for our orders stabilized. I didn’t realize exactly what the donations entailed until they had me meet the Duchess for the first time.” His eyes looked pleading, as if he wanted some kind of forgiveness from them. The Doctor doubted that he was as hapless a pawn as he claimed, but assuming most of the story was true, it explained rather a lot.
“Do you realize that the bones are growing at a rapid rate?” he asked. “It’s an exponential rate, actually, which means that they’ll be full-sized and ready for harvest in a matter of hours?” Yeris shook his head, and the look of naked terror in his eyes told the Doctor he was telling the truth. “What’s going to happen then?”
“They’re going to keep growing. Not in size anymore, but the actual animal itself will start to form. The soil here and the grass I transplant as part of the culturing process combined with the genetic material from the people we… well - it’s the perfect medium for the type of growth we do. The animals don’t start out as embryos - they grow into fully-formed adults. Once the initial growth stage has hit its critical point it’s a matter of hours before they’re ready for transport.”
“And what sorts of animals are growing right in the center of that city?” The Doctor’s voice was hard.
“Some kind of carnivore. Big. At least twelve yards tall, and as many long.”
“Then we don’t have much time to waste.” With that, River nodded at the Doctor, who placed his hand and Yeris’s on her vortex manipulator. “Be warned, you’re about to be very sick.”
***
To Be Continued... (tomorrow)
Wordcount: 3,476
Rating: PG
Summary:
“Be careful,” the Doctor hissed as River crept closer through the underbrush, pulling herself forward on her elbows and forearms.
"Where's the fun in that?" she whispered back with a grin.
Chapter 4
“So where to now?” River asked breathlessly as they rested for a moment in a small copse of trees. They had, somewhat unexpectedly, met with no resistance as they quietly exited the building (Really, River thought, someone should speak to them about how to properly establish a perimeter) and made their way to a nearby park.
“We need to find that ship. Hang on,” he pulled the transponder out of his pocket and scanned it quickly with the sonic. “It’s not transmitting. The ship must have to send it a signal to bring it out of dormancy. Maybe if I just…” he pushed buttons and aimed the sonic at it again, trying to find the right frequency. Meanwhile, River pulled out her handheld.
“Ah, sweetie?” she asked, checking her readings.
“Just a moment, River. I think I’ve almost got it.”
“Be that as it may, I’d suggest-“
“Just a moment. Really, you’re so impulsive.”
“Have it your way,” she pocketed her scanner and started walking further into the copse.
“Wait, River!” he jogged to catch up. “What are you doing? For all you know there are more soldiers coming from that direction!”
“Actually, there aren’t, which I know because I checked for life signs. As for what I’m doing, as I was trying to tell you just now, the ship is half a mile in that direction.” She pointed, and didn’t bother to hide the smug smile currently spreading across her face.
“You…but how?” he sputtered, impressed and curious.
“You’re not the only one with impressive personal electronics, Sweetie,” she kissed him on the cheek, then started off again. “We need to hurry if we want to have any chance of catching the Duchess’s trader before he receives word from Macris and Delvaria that we’ve smoked him out.”
There really wasn’t much else to do but kiss her at that point. Which was exactly what the Doctor proceeded to do.
***
They crept up to the cloaked ship as carefully as possible considering that they couldn’t exactly see the thing. River’s scanner was picking up faint traces of radiation, which gave them a general idea of where it was, but nothing more specific. A rather large area of depressed earth and grass indicated the size of the landing gear, but not the body of the ship itself.
“Be careful,” the Doctor hissed as River crept closer through the underbrush, pulling herself forward on her elbows and forearms.
“Where’s the fun in that?” she whispered back with a grin, holding up the scanner. “It’s no use - I’m not getting clearer readings with this. We’re going to need to get him to take down the cloak somehow.”
The Doctor considered his options. If he got very, very lucky (and worked at it for an hour or three) he might be able to jury-rig the sonic to emit exactly the right frequency and cipher to de-cloak the ship. Or he could just try the direct route.
“Right then,” he said softly to himself. “River? Stay down and wait for my signal.” Without another word (and pointedly ignoring her sputtering protests) he stood up and began to shout as loudly as he could. “Hello there! Strange person in a cloaked ship! I know you’re there, and I know you’re responsible for the bone meadows! Hello! Standing right out here! Shouting your secrets at the top of my lungs! Any-“ and without finishing his final thought, the Doctor dematerialized in front of her eyes.
“I hate him,” River muttered under her breath, pulling her scanner back up and looking for any sign that he was sending her a signal. She could almost hear his “No you don’t,” and wondered if there would ever come a day when he didn’t drive her to distraction.
***
The Doctor squinted, struggling to adjust his eyes to the darkness. He had no idea where on the ship he was, but it felt small and stuffy, and based on the fact that his eyes weren’t adjusting it was very, very dark.
“Brilliant,” he muttered under his breath. “I’ve been transported into a cupboard.” He reached out his right hand and pressed it firmly against a wall less than a foot from where he was standing. Reaching out his left, he was less than surprised to find another wall no more than ten inches on his other side. “A small cupboard,” he amended, removing his hands and digging in his pockets for the sonic.
“I think you’ll find I took the liberty of transporting your scanning device into my cockpit,” said a disembodied voice from above his head. “Fascinating little thing - never seen anything quite like it.”
“Hello there!” the Doctor said, trying to sound far less irritated than he felt. Never let them see they’ve got you at a disadvantage, he reminded himself. “Yes, it’s rather unique, I’m afraid. I’m assuming you’re the so-called trader who’s behind this bone meadow business, then?”
A chuckle sounded over the intercom, then silence. The Doctor tried again.
“I’m fully aware that you’ve been working with the Duchess’s councilors, though I’m at a loss as to exactly why. I don’t suppose you’d mind filling me in on that detail while I wait?” Thrusting his hands into his pockets again, the Doctor searched for anything that might serve to provide him with some light. Cupboards had doors, and even without the sonic he knew he could work his way out of this one if he just had the right materials…
The laugh sounded again, less amused this time. “Yes, they’re not exactly subtle, are they? If the Duchess wasn’t such a mindless little thing she would have figured that out months ago. But you knew that already, didn’t you?”
The Doctor shook his head. He had no idea who this man was, but he didn’t appear to be stupid. He’d plainly been in contact with Macris and Delvaria and was only willing to confirm the parts of the story that the Doctor had already figured out. If he’d talked to them, though, he probably knew about River. A brief jolt of fear struck through him. River was good - she was clever, and if he knew anything it was that she was already figuring out a way to get inside the ship without being caught. He’d been hoping for the element of surprise, though, or at least a less intelligent adversary.
Putting thoughts of his wife out of his mind for a moment, the Doctor once again concentrated on searching his pockets. “Well, it wasn’t all that difficult to figure out that she was completely unprepared for the job. She’s very young, isn’t she? Attractive too. Not surprising that she’s unmarried - a husband would want to be involved in running the colony, and Macris and Delvaria likely couldn’t risk competition, now could they? I’m a bit surprised they didn’t put you up for the job, actually. I saw you, down there, you know.”
He paused briefly as his fingers brushed across a promisingly sharp edge - yes, it was a bent paperclip. He vaguely remembered Amy shoving it into his hand the last time he’d visited them and she’d been trying to clean out the tray of her pencil sharpener.
Another laugh, this one slightly more bitter than the last. “Really, Caretaker, is that the best you can do? Try to make me jealous or resentful that I’m being kept at arm’s length from the seat of power on this pathetic little planet? Trust me, it’s not going to work.”
This time it was the Doctor’s turn to laugh, though he did it silently, still searching through his right pocket while he held the paperclip in his left. The man plainly wanted to talk, even though he knew he shouldn’t. The Doctor wondered how long it had been since he’d had a conversation with anyone except Macris and Delvaria. Likely six months or more, depending on how long he’d been here before sending the message to the Duchess.
“No, I don’t imagine that it will. Still, you can hardly blame me for trying. Now, if I were a betting man, I’d say that you’ve been stuck here far longer than the bone meadows have been popping up. Were you stranded here, or are you choosing to stay until something specific happens?” Again, his fingers closed around a promising-feeling item. Smooth paper, slightly powdery - chewing gum! Just one stick, though. He’d have preferred two, but he was in no position to complain. He kept his hand firmly in his pocket as he unwrapped it, hoping that the man wouldn’t be able to hear the crinkle of the wrapper. Quickly, he popped the gum in his mouth and chewed, knowing that he only had as long as the man’s next statement to get it into an acceptable level of chewy stickiness.
“Nice try. Let’s just say that my stay here will prove highly profitable regardless of its duration, and I’m not talking about the Duchess. I’m far more interested in how you got here, though. My scanners are set to passive mode, but I would have been able to detect another ship landing, and you’re plainly not from around here. How exactly did you and your companion arrive?”
The Doctor shook his head. The man definitely knew about River, then. He didn’t know about the TARDIS, which would seem to indicate that either Macris and Delvaria were deliberately keeping that information from him or they didn’t consider it relevant to his mission. Regardless, he’d exploit the man’s curiosity any way he could.
“I have my ways. Honestly, I’m just impressed you’ve managed to keep yourself entertained in this tiny ship as long as you have. I don’t imagine you’re allowed to wander about, after all.” Having fitted the chewing gum around the end of the paperclip, the Doctor was now feeling around the corners of the cupboard, trying to determine which was the door. None felt loose, and he couldn’t detect a draft or gap anywhere. Then it occurred to him - the ceiling.
By this point, the man had stopped chuckling. His tone had become downright agitated when he finally replied. “How I spend my time is none of your concern. Now, why don’t you tell me something for a change - say, where your friend might be right now?”
“Really, it’s rude to talk about someone as if they aren’t in the room,” River’s voice purred, and the Doctor jumped - for joy or because she’d startled him, he couldn’t tell. “Sweetie, just stop whatever you’re doing. It’s not going to work, and I’ll have your sonic in a moment. That is, if our new friend here wants to keep both of his legs in good working order.”
He could see her in his mind, bold smirk on her lips, gun aimed directly at his captor.
A pause, then a deep sigh from the man. The familiar click of handcuffs sounded, and the Doctor felt a pang of regret that they’d probably have to leave them behind when they left. He was rather fond of that pair. Moments later, the Doctor felt a clicking vibration under the heels of his boots, and in the split second between when the door opened under them and when he fell to the floor below, he realized that the exit hadn’t been in the ceiling after all.
***
River shook her head fondly as he rubbed at the sore spot on his knee for the third time in as many minutes. “Need me to kiss it better again?” she asked, typing another command into the ship’s computer terminal.
“No thank you,” he said primly, trying to look more dignified than he felt. Really, who kept someone captive in a cupboard in the ceiling? It was easily one of the more absurd prisons he’d ever found himself in, and it didn’t help that River had doubled over laughing when she’d seen his gum-and-paperclip contraption.
They both worked quietly for a moment, ignoring the shouts coming from the cupboard where they’d stashed the owner of the ship while they worked. They were going to need him once they left - and the Doctor wasn’t looking forward to keeping the man contained once they started the walk back to town - but for now at least they could keep him out of the way.
Unfortunately, the ship’s database was being particularly stubborn about allowing them access to any sensitive files. They’d been able to determine that it had last refueled nine months ago in the Denbrian system, which was just a short distance from Elfenor VII. The man had plainly come straight here, leading the Doctor to believe that he’d landed deliberately, planning to use the fuel to maintain life support and computer functionality for an extended duration. River disagreed, pointing out that a ship on passive mode wouldn’t need such a large (and expensive) fuel load to operate for a century, much less a few months.
“I could always threaten to shoot him again,” River offered, sounding as frustrated as the Doctor was starting to feel.
“No shooting, River,” he chided. “Give me a few more minutes and then we’ll talk alternative strategies.” He aimed the sonic at the computer again, shifting frequencies, and this time the computer responded with a welcoming chime. “I’m in!”
She leaped up from her chair and quickly crossed the small room to his side. “Search for mission logs,” she instructed.
“That never would have occurred to me, dear,” he said sarcastically.
“I know, sweetie,” she responded, kissing his cheekbone lightly.
Dozens of logs appeared before their eyes, and as they read through them, a sinking feeling began to grow in the pit of the Doctor’s stomach.
“We don’t have much time, do we?” River asked quietly.
“No, we most certainly don’t. I’m going to download this. You get him out, and make sure he knows that you mean business if he doesn’t talk once we reach the Duchess.” He looked at her grimly. “My only question is why.”
***
River poked the man in the back with the barrel of her gun while the Doctor peered into the copse of trees through which they would have to walk in order to get back to the city center. That was, if they were planning to walk, which they weren’t.
“This is your last opportunity to tell us who you are and what the bone meadows are really for. We’ll be in the city in a matter of moments, and I really don’t think you’re going to like what’s waiting for your there. If you help us, we’ll help you. If not…” she left the implied threat hanging and waited for his response.
“I’ll tell you my name, but that’s it. And I’ll only do that much for a guarantee of protection.” He twisted around, attempting to catch her eye, but River dug the gun further into his spine and he stopped moving.
“No deal,” the Doctor said quietly. “It’s all or nothing, I’m afraid.” He kept his tone steady and his eyes firmly fixed on the man. He didn’t want him to try to look behind his back again and catch a glimpse of the very real fear in River’s expression. They needed to get information out of him now, because once they got back to the city it was anyone’s guess how long it might take before they would be able to extract it from Macris or Delvaria. Time was not on their side.
The man gave the Doctor a steady, challenging gaze for one minute, then two, finally, nearing the three minute mark something broke, and he looked away. “Fine. I’ll tell you what I know, but it isn’t the full story. Only Macris and Delvaria know that.”
River eased up a bit on her gun. “Go ahead, we’re listening.”
“Okay, it’s like this. My name is Yeris Favlor. I come from Acturhl, in the Madelian Confederacy.”
“You’re an ecological engineer,” River breathed, suddenly understanding if not everything, then at least a large piece of the puzzle.
“Yes. Our primary exports are genetically engineered ecological rarities - extinct or nearly extinct species. We can extract any weaknesses in the DNA that caused the extinction in the first place, then the species’ planet of origin puts in an order for however many members of the species they need in order to start a breeding program, we deliver, they pay.” He shrugged, as if such happenings were commonplace. To him, they probably were.
“Pay quite a bit, I expect,” the Doctor said. “Go on. Why bone meadows? Why this planet?”
“Well, you see, we don’t exactly share our trade secrets with just anyone. In fact, only a few hundred of our own people know exactly how the process really works. Some species are easy to engineer. Plant life, for example, can almost always be grown in a lab. Reptilian life forms are similar. Mammalian life, however, is different. Sometimes it works, but more often than not in recent years we’ve been unable to force-grow some of the species we’re contracted to deliver.” He shook his head, remembering. “It’s not pretty when a subject goes wrong. We had to find a more stable alternative to our labs.”
“Bone meadows?” River guessed.
“That’s what they became, yes. You see, the underlying flaw in our lab growths had to do with unstable and incomplete DNA. Understand, we mostly get requests for species that haven’t been gone long. Sometimes, though, we receive requests for growths of long-extinct animals. Some are for zoos specializing in rare creatures, others for collectors. These are people willing to pay big money; far more than we’re offered by most planetary governments. When one comes in we simply can’t say no!” He stopped briefly, regained his composure, and continued. “I don’t know exactly how we found out about this place, but over a year ago I was instructed to fuel up this ship, fly it to Elfenor VII, and await further instructions from some local contacts.”
“Guess who?” River asked drily while the Doctor simply shook his head.
“Exactly. Once I got here, they explained that for a fee, they were willing to ‘donate’ genetic material to help us get the DNA sequences for our orders stabilized. I didn’t realize exactly what the donations entailed until they had me meet the Duchess for the first time.” His eyes looked pleading, as if he wanted some kind of forgiveness from them. The Doctor doubted that he was as hapless a pawn as he claimed, but assuming most of the story was true, it explained rather a lot.
“Do you realize that the bones are growing at a rapid rate?” he asked. “It’s an exponential rate, actually, which means that they’ll be full-sized and ready for harvest in a matter of hours?” Yeris shook his head, and the look of naked terror in his eyes told the Doctor he was telling the truth. “What’s going to happen then?”
“They’re going to keep growing. Not in size anymore, but the actual animal itself will start to form. The soil here and the grass I transplant as part of the culturing process combined with the genetic material from the people we… well - it’s the perfect medium for the type of growth we do. The animals don’t start out as embryos - they grow into fully-formed adults. Once the initial growth stage has hit its critical point it’s a matter of hours before they’re ready for transport.”
“And what sorts of animals are growing right in the center of that city?” The Doctor’s voice was hard.
“Some kind of carnivore. Big. At least twelve yards tall, and as many long.”
“Then we don’t have much time to waste.” With that, River nodded at the Doctor, who placed his hand and Yeris’s on her vortex manipulator. “Be warned, you’re about to be very sick.”
***
To Be Continued... (tomorrow)