1x09 The Embers of Alexandria (6.1/7)
Title: The Embers of Alexandria (6.1/7)
Author: principia_coh
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Rose/Ten II
Summary: Waylaid en route to a holiday, the Doctor and Rose encounter unexpected wonders... and new dangers.
Author’s notes: Thanks to ginamak and leighleighla for their excellent and patient beta work!
Episode 9 of a virtual series at the_altverse, following The Wretched Hive last week.
Virtual Series Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
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Rose was storming briskly through the Library’s corridors, her burlap bag of tools slapping against her side.
12 minutes past. Lén and Mið hadn’t reported in and they weren’t responding to her hails.
The comm roll Rose clutched tightly in her fist held the Doctor’s latest check-in, brief and to the point for the first time in days. Maybe he was starting to feel better, or had finally grabbed a catnap.
Despite the countless setbacks, she’d been hoping until now that the rally point she’d scoped out on wouldn’t be necessary. Even if she thought it was safe to head to the lab to check for Mið, she couldn’t get to it without blowing past the rendezvous. But she could route herself through Lén’s section of the search grid, see what-or who-she might find on the way.
After a few more minutes, she reached Lén’s zone. She checked each of the nooks and side rooms as she went, looking for any familiar objects, or any trace of Lén himself. No broken furniture or scattered bits of marble, no scrolls out of place, no obvious signs of foul play or misadventure.
She stopped to take a quick look back at her roll, see if maybe Lén had reported moving on and she’d missed it. No such luck. She started back towards the meeting place, at a trot now.
Rose felt the insistent buzz from the roll clear through her burlap bag, and came to a halt, ducking back out of the corridor and stepping into the shadows. She quickly unrolled the papyrus and ran her hand across the surface, hoping to see something from Mið or Lén.
Two words, in the Doctor’s precise script, two words like ice going down her back.
They’re gone.
********************************************************************
Rose was sprinting through the Library now at full pelt. Good thing she’d decided to ditch the cloak and robe days ago, or she’d have gone arse over teakettle half a dozen times by now.
As she neared the rendezvous, she slowed down first to a brisk walk, then to a measured pace. If there were any unfriendlies here, she didn’t want to clue them in to her proximity.
She entered the larger room that held her and the Doctor’s “safe” spot. No sign of him yet. As she caught her breath, Rose took off her chest-lamp and set it carefully on the table. This nook had been the best of a bad set of options; she’d improve her odds with a bit of concealment. Rose surveyed the great room-those shelves about 20 yards back looked like they could accommodate a reasonably slim person between them, and the entire area was already in shadow.
Rose slotted herself between the shelves and waited. A few minutes later, her patience was rewarded. She saw first the soft gleam of another lamp peeking around the far entrance to the room, then the Doctor, in profile. He didn’t enter quickly, but he was breathing hard, almost to the point of hyperventilating.
So no change there then.
The Doctor must’ve caught the shine from her own lamp coming from exactly where he and she were meant to meet. He stomped past a column into the nook, and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. He advanced cautiously on the light, poking at it with the tip of the sonic when he was near enough. After a moment of watching the lamp teeter back and forth, he seemed satisfied, returning the sonic to his pocket.
“Olley olley oxen free,” he sang out quietly into the surrounding area.
Rose slipped out and padded towards him.
The Doctor picked up the lamp from the table and spun on his heels, offering the lamp back to her. “Not very sporting,” he chided her in an attempt at a tease, voice wavering. “I can hear you breathing.”
Rose concentrated on strapping her lamp back on as she mulled over her options. Now that she was up close, she could see the Doctor’s fingers were tapping a fast rhythm at his sides, and he looked like he wanted nothing more than to set a land speed record getting the hell away from here.
She couldn’t blame him in the least.
“Did you hear or see anything on your way?”
“TOM’s whining like a homesick boy in his first term at public school. I think it misses its mum.”
He laughed an odd, thin little laugh, then looked away.
Not no change. Worse.
He must’ve seen what she was thinking. “I do hear it, Rose. All the time, everywhere, here.”
“I know,” Rose said, trying to keep down her own butterflies, “I know. Must be driving you mad.”
She couldn’t believe she’d just said that out loud. The Doctor didn’t seem to either. Rose’s face heated up, and she went back to wrestling the lamp back between her breasts. “If you say they’re gone, I believe you.”
“Good to know,” he snapped at her, then immediately looked contrite.
“Doctor...”
She moved to soothe him, but he slipped around behind the table and started pacing restlessly.
Rose scratched fiercely where her potato sack of a bag was still scraping across her shoulder. She wanted to hurl the blasted thing clear across the room, but this was no time for a tantrum.
“We should check where they were and where they were supposed to be going,” she offered.
The Doctor shook his head vehemently. “Too many exceeded tolerances, sudden disappearances. No time. Less than no time.”
“Then we have to get back to the lab.”
Rose turned on her heels and headed off in that direction, hoping the Doctor would follow. He bounded after her and took only a moment to catch up.
“Rose, no, wait, we shouldn’t, we can’t, it won’t do any good.”
“But we have to. Isn’t that where the demolition team’s gonna come in?”
“Maybe Messrs L and M were pushed back, maybe they were pulled back, but nothing and no-one is here right now except us and please.”
He was glancing about fitfully, like he expected the walls to come alive around them at any moment. Rose knew if she looked into his eyes, really looked, she’d stop. So she kept one step ahead of him.
“Since they’re not here yet, any chance we can stop them from coming through?”
“Yes. I mean, no. Maybe. I don’t know. No, definitely not, they haven’t got the right stuff.”
“We can’t gimmick their equipment into blocking them out or something? What about the TOM?”
“She’s not a fighter, our TARDIS. If she could, she’d bat them back into the Vortex, and if there was no-one playing catcher on the other end...”
Rose stopped on a sixpence. He nearly bowled them both over, but she caught herself and spun on him. She hadn’t asked him about the TARDIS.
“The TARDIS. Oh my god, I’d completely forgot. What about the TARDIS?”
“She’s being a good little girl. Not a peep out of her.”
“I’m not talking about... look, they’ve got perception filters, yeah? Who’s gonna build a cloak they can’t see through?”
“No hide and seek, only seek and find. They’ll round her up like dogcatchers on a stray.”
Dogcatchers?
Shit.
Wait a minute...
Rose grabbed the Doctor by the hand, nearly yanking him off his feet with the force of her pull.
“Time to see a man about a dog! C’mon!”
********************************************************************
The day they’d spent with the Caeciliuses, the Doctor had spent a good chunk of time regaling her about the Romans and their feasts that often extended well into the night. She’d just have to count on them being 24-hour party people.
She and the Doctor had winged their way through the lanes and alleys of Alexandria as fast as their legs could take them, but the effort had clearly drained the Doctor-he’d propped himself against a wall in the alcove outside Lobus and Metella’s door. She looked back over her shoulder and saw in the moonlight that he’d tilted his head back and closed his eyes, and was at least trying to take deep, calming breaths.
She knocked on the door of the villa, first delicately and then more urgently when she heard movements near the door.
“Dorsuo, is that you? Can you open up, please?” she called softly. “It’s Mr and Mrs Spartacus. Please, it’s urgent.”
The footsteps retreated and she thought she could hear muffled voices coming back up the entry hall.
“Hello?”
After another moment, the door swung open in front of her and there stood Lobus Caecilius, ready with a gracious smile that quickly faded. Whatever words the man had had planned died on his lips as he took in Rose’s state of dress. It looked like he couldn’t tell whether to be more taken aback by her out in public in a tunic, or the Doctor’s condition.
“I, I’m sorry to come to you like this, but we need your help.”
Lobus gawped at her as politely as he could, but the shock on Dorsuo’s face told her really how rough she must look.
“There were these... thugs. At the Library, we barely escaped.”
Rose heard a sharp exclamation of astonishment from behind the men. Metella’s voice rang out forcefully. “Lobus, Dorsuo, help them inside this instant!”
She pushed her way past her stunned husband and manservant and took Rose gently by the arm. “Come in, come in, come in. By the household gods, what’s happened to you?”
Metella led Rose into the atrium while Lobus and Dorsuo helped to guide the Doctor inside. To put it bluntly, he looked like death warmed over. Rose hoped like hell he was laying it on for their benefit.
Lobus and Dorsuo led the Doctor to the nearest bench. He gently pushed them away and sat slowly, leaning back to rest his head on the cool concrete.
“It’s a long story,” the Doctor rasped from his seat.
Good. She didn’t want to have to do this on her own.
“Dorsuo, fetch Licina and Sura. And have Maro bring out some food and drink. We’ll take it in the dining room.”
“Yes ma’am.”
He swiftly exited the room, leaving only Lobus and Metella behind. Lobus hovered in the middle of the atrium, wringing his hands nervously.
Licina quickly appeared at Metella’s shoulder with a pitcher and cloths, trying very hard not to stare.
“I’ll take those, Licina. Please go with Sura and set a room for our guests.”
Licina pried her eyes away from Rose, ducked her head, and scuttled away.
Metella watched the girl go, then turned back to Rose, brushing the hair away from her eyes. “Take a deep breath, and tell us what’s happened, if you can.”
“Like I said, there were these men. They’re gone now, but we couldn’t think of what else to do except to come here.”
Metella patted Rose’s hand. “There, there, it’ll be alright, we’re glad to help. Aren’t we, Lobus?”
Lobus looked between the Doctor and Rose, flummoxed. “You were staying in the Library?”
“No,” the Doctor answered hoarsely, “We left our cabinet there, for safekeeping.”
“We didn’t expect to be here this long, but there were... complications,” Rose added, “It holds everything we brought to Alexandria. The Doctor’s tools, our clothes, everything.”
“But why would you choose to visit it in the middle of the night?” Lobus asked, befuddled. “I have to admit the ways of your peoples do confound me.”
“We were trying to take it away from there, but then...” the Doctor ventured, then trailed off.
“Well of course they’d have to go there in the night, Lobus,” Metella retorted, “You know better than I do that vehicles of commerce aren’t allowed on the roads during the day. What were they going to do, carry it through the streets on their backs?”
Metella gave her husband a long, imploring stare.
“I don’t suppose we could offer them the use of ours.”
“Metella, at this hour?”
Lobus sounded scandalised, but Metella wasn’t put off. “I wish I knew where Quintus was, you could use another strong back. If he comes, I’ll send him along to help you,” she continued.
“My love, a word?”
Lobus drew Metella aside, to the far side of the atrium. Rose couldn’t make out exactly what they were heatedly whispering to one another, and she could hardly ask the Doctor given the circumstances.
I guess we’ll just have to wait.
********************************************************************
“Come on Maro,” Quintus pleaded. “I know I missed supper, but you can’t leave me to go the night on a barracks supper. You know how terrible the food is there.”
“Master Quintus,” Maro answered firmly “This food is for the family’s guests. Mr and Mrs Spartacus have returned.”
“They’re having a proper party and I missed it? Blast.”
“It isn’t a party, sir,” Maro said grimly, “They’re in terrible condition, and this is for their sustenance. If you’ll excuse me.”
Maro took both trays and started past him.
“Maro, wait. What’s happened?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know, it really isn’t my place to know. You’d have to ask your mother and father. Dorsuo says they’re speaking with them now. I really must get these to the dining room.”
“I’ll help you with those.”
“Master Quintus!”
“Maro, I’m not going to take anything. But if you could maybe put together a little plate for me?”
Maro hesitated, groaning. Quintus gestured for the trays, and Maro handed them off to him reluctantly. “I don’t want your parents to think I’m letting you do my job for me.”
“Don’t worry, they won’t even know I was here.”
“If you say so, Master.”
Maro moved quickly about the kitchen, back in search of foodstuffs. “Now where has she put the thrushes?”
Quintus took the trays to the dining room, just like he’d promised Maro, then stepped into the hallway. He caught sight of his parents huddling together, in a conference.
“Of course the city guard needs to know that there are ruffians plaguing the Library’s campus,” his mother hissed urgently, “but you heard the Doctor and Rose. Their would-be robbers fled. Best to wait for the morning so everyone has a clear head and can give the captain the best details.”
“But to attack a representative of the Emperor and his wife, on the grounds of the Library itself, Metella!”
“I know you’re worried, Lobus, but see how desperately they need our aid. If we ever needed such help, I have no doubt they would give it to us gladly.”
“Fine, then, we’ll get them back there, and help them retrieve their belongings. But I’m reporting this first thing tomorrow morning!”
“I would never suggest you’d do otherwise.”
Quintus could hardly believe his ears. A mob at the Library, in the middle of the night? He needed to report this at once. Mother might dismiss the Spartacus’ attackers as simple robbers, but Father was right. He must let his commander know at once, especially with his father and family’s servants heading there.
Quintus quickly snuck back down the hall and made his way outside to his horse. If he left now, he’d surely make it back to the watch before his family were put in any danger.
********************************************************************
While they waited for Lobus and Metella to finish their conference, Rose dabbed the back of her neck with the damp cloth Licina had left.
Rose saw slow movement in her peripheral vision, heard the soft sweep of sandals on the floor. Here came Metella and Lobus, smiling bravely.
“Doctor, Rose, we would be delighted to lend you our carriage,” Lobus volunteered.
“Don’t be absurd, Lobus,” Metella countered, no-nonsense, “The carriage would scarcely fit you, the Doctor, and Rose, much less the men and a large crate besides. You should take the delivery cart for the workshop and the carriage.”
Lobus winced. “Oh, of course.”
“We keep it here because it’s easier to secure the horses and whatnot in a single location. The others can follow in the carriage so everyone has room to come back,” Metella offered-straight to the Doctor.
“Thank you,” he murmured gravely.
“Hold on just a minute, you’re not going anywhere without me,” Rose argued.
“But Rose, you’ve already had such a difficult time.” Metella interjected.
Rose walked to the bench and sat beside the Doctor, who looked like he was a million miles (or years) away. “And he hasn’t? I’m going with him.”
The Doctor reached for her hand blindly, and squeezed it firmly, closing his eyes and sighing. Rose looked first to Lobus, then Metella, doe-eyed. She hated playing on their sympathy, but she didn’t know what else to do.
“The sooner we may depart, the sooner we may return,” Lobus told Metella firmly. “I’ll tell Dorsuo to prepare the horses.”
Metella stopped Lobus as he passed her to give him a peck on the cheek, then followed him out of the room.
********************************************************************
“Oh, if I’ve never seen a gladder sight! Master Caecilius, look. The city guards are here!”
The Doctor’s hand twitched against Rose’s thigh as he sat up straight in response to Dorsuo’s cry. Rose leaned forward, trying to catch the best glimpse she could out of the carriage’s window and past the Doctor.
“You’d best not do that, Rose,” Lobus cautioned her. “If they see us with a young woman at this time of night, they’ll detain us for certain.”
Rose sat back and watched the Doctor. He was staring wordlessly out at the scenery they were passing by. At the distance between the lane and the courtyard in front of the Library’s entrance, Rose could only tell that there was muffled shouting. The Doctor could probably make out every word; she was sure he’d tell her later if she’d missed anything important.
“Perhaps they could help us with your cabinet?” Lobus mused aloud to himself.
The Doctor’s entire body tensed, and he swallowed hard as he continued tracking whatever was going on outside. Lobus leaned forward from his own seat to have a look, but they were passing along the side of the Library now. Rose hoped the presence of the military police wasn’t going to complicate retrieving the TARDIS.
As for trying to talk the demolition team down when they arrived, well, that was another matter entirely. She’d been thinking how best to approach the problem. Neither she nor the Doctor (as far as she knew) had considered that the recall units would’ve snatched Mið and Lén home without a moment’s warning. No-one wanted to risk them becoming a temporal artefact, detached from a ruined timeline, but it seemed ludicrous that their bosses would have them simply vanish in the middle of what could’ve been a potential breakthrough. Maybe she could use that to their advantage, persuade the team to be a help instead of an obstacle to be overcome.
The TCC sounded like a rational lot; they’d need at least 8 to 10 people to get their arrangements made quickly, and that would be enough to fan out and get the rest of the candidate objects assessed quickly. Worst case, she and the Doctor could help them round up the remaining bits and that lot could take every last bit back with them.
“No, no, I’m quite sure they have more important tasks than seeing to a citizen’s private property. We’ll proceed on as planned.”
The Doctor slid carefully back onto the seat and squeezed Rose’s hand. He looked at her and smiled a tired, sad little smile, then kissed her on the forehead. Lobus looked away bashfully.
“Thank you for going to this trouble for us,” Rose murmured to Lobus.
Lobus bowed his head slightly. “What else are friends for?”
The little parade of wagons finally reached the far end of the Library’s incomplete eastern expansion, near where she and the Doctor had first come in. She heard Dorsuo cajoling the horses as they came to a stop. The carriage shook slightly as he dismounted, then came around to the door to let Rose out.
Dorsuo gallantly helped Rose out of the carriage. Rose cracked her back and knuckles as first Lobus and then the Doctor clambered out behind her. Rose had taken Metella up on her offer of a replacement robe and cloak; she’d attract less attention this way, especially in this more practical mix of cotton and wool, but she had to get used to this confining wrap again.
The workshop’s cart had been just behind them when they’d left; maybe they’d been stopped by the guards on the way in? Oh, here it came. Not more than about a minute behind.
Lobus and the Doctor trudged over to the cart to talk to the men. Rose knew she’d been pressing her luck by being allowed along, so she stayed back with the carriage, pretending to visit with the horses while she took a quick glance around this entrance area.
Lobus continued speaking quietly to his men, occasionally looking over his shoulder at Rose. The Doctor jogged lightly over to Rose.
“Bit chilly out here tonight.”
Rose blinked, taken aback by the suddenly lucid small talk, almost like the borderline mania he’d been suffering from for the past several days had never happened.
“Yes,” she agreed slowly.
“Glad you’re wrapped up properly, is all. So.”
“So.”
“Caecilius has told his men to take instructions from you while they’re here. Think of you as they would Metella, he’s said. Since they seem well terrified of her, can’t imagine they’ll give you any guff. See you back at the villa, then!”
“What?” she barked, probably a bit too loudly, since Lobus and his men looked over and gave her awkward smiles and a wave or two.
“You’re going to get this lot to the TARDIS, get her packed up snug as a bug in a rug, and then you’re going to take her back to chez Caecilii.”
“You can’t be serious,” Rose growled.
“We can hardly send them off through the streets of Alexandria with the TARDIS by themselves,” he countered, far too reasonably.
He had a point.
“Get going, and when the coast is clear I’ll follow in the carriage. We don’t want it to look like a convoy.”
Rose pulled up short. “What about Lobus and Dorsuo?”
“Hmm? Oh, they’re coming along in the carriage too. No probs.”
Rose tried to consider the Doctor’s 180-degree mood swing objectively, like she’d have assessed an unstable team member back in her days at Torchwood. Maybe the high-pitched, nonstop racket from Lén and Mið’s equipment really had been what was bothering him, the source of his erratic behaviour, and now that he’d had a break from it he’d be better long enough for them to get this settled and get out of here.
“Okay.”
Rose gave the Doctor a quick hug (far briefer than she’d like), then walked over to her new team as he watched her go.
Rose stopped in front of the group of very confused toga-clad labourers. “Thank you for coming out at this hour to do a bit of heavy lifting. Any questions before we get started?”
********************************************************************
The Doctor watched Rose go to do what she did best, be the glue that held everyone together. Even in the meagre, flickering light from the lanterns he could see her taking command of Caecilius’ men, strong and self-assured.
Everyone was so calm and collected, even old Caecilius. He’d legged it, probably to get a bit of proper work done so long as they were here. That was good, very good.
It meant the Doctor was the only one who’d taken in the full measure of what was happening at the front of the Library.
Well before the carriage had been close enough for him to have a look, he’d heard the city guards talking over the clatter of the horses’ hooves. Even before that, he’d felt the timelines snap like overstretched piano strings, the discordant notes leaving a bitter taste in his mouth and shocking him back to his senses. The Cloister Bell would be resounding like mad inside the TARDIS, poor girl.
When one of the soldiers had announced “We think this is the last of them,” the Doctor had been prepared to see Drs Matagal’s and Pembekuan’s colleagues being hauled before the commander of the watch. He’d already begun a formless thought of rescue, of protection, of taking head counts and the other practicalities Rose was so good at.
Instead, two foot soldiers had ever so efficiently placed a bloody, lifeless body at the end of a row of corpses laid out for the commander’s inspection, each one completely and utterly unarmed.
A good dozen innocent men and women lay dead at the foot of the Library’s stairs, their blood on his hands as surely as if he’d taken their lives himself. This was his failure, his shame, not some dateless, dusty memory from his old life.
Facts, immutable Facts were closing around him and Rose, like leaves of a shutter blocking out the light. If he didn’t, if he couldn’t...
Marble, marble, everywhere, and not the marbles to think.
Those people deserved to get home one way or the other. Or if he couldn’t even manage that, the technology they’d brought with them had to be removed from this time period. The surest way to do that required access to the lab.
But first things first-he needed one of the team’s recall units.
********************************************************************
Lobus strode quickly through the corridors of this unfinished area of the Library, hoping to find one of the city guards nearby, either here or in the original building. It vexed him that he hadn’t been able to see what was happening outside, especially having seen the look on the Doctor’s face. He could only imagine how aggrieved the man must feel, seeing the city guard so close to where he and his wife had been assaulted. If only they’d been present when they were needed!
He felt strangely confident in ordering his staff to take directions from Mrs Spartacus. Comparing Rose to Metella had been no exaggeration; the girl really did remind him of his wife, in the best ways. Quintus could use a wife like her to keep him on the steady path, even if she wasn’t Roman. Such things scarcely mattered in the Army these days.
He wondered, might she have a sister?
After a good bit of searching about, Lobus was starting to despair of finding any help. Not to mention that he’d somehow got himself completely turned around in the Library he was helping to expand. Hardly a good impression to make on a member of the watch. At best they’d think he was drunk, wandering around here at this hour of night. Better to make his way back to the carriage.
He decided to follow a piece of advice once given to him by a designer of mazes-place your hand on the wall to your right, and continue following that wall until you reached one of the exits. But only if there were additional inner walls. Or was that only if there weren’t additional inner walls? Oh dear.
“You there! Halt this instant!” a voice rang out, clear and authoritative.
Lobus froze in place and waited patiently for the owner of the voice to catch up with him. If he had to be caught out by anyone, at least it was Quintus. He didn’t know what in Tartarus his son was doing here, but if he’d had to pull an additional duty shift it would certainly explain why he’d missed supper.
“It is only me, your father.”
Quintus breathed an audible sigh of relief and came to stand before him. “What are you doing wandering through here alone?”
“I would think the customary question to ask would be as to what I’m doing here at all this hour of the night. It is a long and unfortunate tale. One I was hoping to end by getting back home to your mother before the sun rises.”
Quintus lips curved slightly upward, and pointed to his left. “The front entrance is that way. But it is rather busy out there. Which way did you come in?”
“We had come around to the easternmost end of the expansions.”
“Ah, that would be back this way, then. I can at least escort you to the carriage.”
They marched back through the Library as quickly as the minimal light of their lanterns allowed. The openings in the unfinished area should provide at least a bit more light once they got there.
Lobus yawned loudly. Quintus did the same, and gave him a regretful smile in return. Did his son actually look guilty?
“I know why you’re here, Father,” Quintus began, after another minute’s progress. “I was in the hall and overheard you and Mother talking.”
“Quintus!”
“I know, I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but you were right. You did need the city guard. It isn’t safe here.”
Lobus frowned. “The Doctor and Rose were so certain their assailants had made their escape. Surely, they would not have asked us to come here otherwise.”
“Then perhaps they were mistaken, in their haste to get away. Or their attackers returned. Either way, it is settled now.”
Lobus stopped in his tracks. “What do you mean? What’s happened?”
“When I alerted my commander-hold a moment, father. What is that, up there?”
A cold radiance cast shafts of illumination into the great hall of the unfinished expansion, some distance ahead of them. Across the light moved back and forth a shadow-unless Lobus was mistaken, one in the shape of a man.
Lobus felt drawn to the light. He began to move to meet it, but Quintus grabbed him by the arm.
“Father, no!”
“You may be a member of the Roman Army now, but do not presume that gives you the right to order me about like one of the servants,” Lobus rebuked him. “Surely we must see what this is!”
“Please, Father, wait here. That... illumination is unnatural. Let me bring back Libo. He’s the nearest other member of the watch. We can trust him.”
“Since when do you not trust the other members of your squad? I ask you again to tell me what’s happened.”
The light ahead of them had gone clear again, beckoning to them.
“Do you see, my son? It shines like the brightest moonlight, amplified to the strength of day, as if it came from Diana herself.”
Quintus looked nervously upon the light, then back to his father. He gestured for Lobus to go ahead of him. Not without resting his hand on the hilt of his sword, Lobus noted.
They crept along quietly until they reached the light, then turned into its source, squinting. Lobus looked to his son and smiled reassuringly. Together, they stepped inside.
********************************************************************
The Doctor had thought he was going to have to convince the commander of the guard to allow him to inspect the bodies of the team members, or create a distraction sufficient to lure what seemed like an entire platoon of Roman soldiers away from the entrance to the Library.
Instead, he’d found another slain team member, damn near tripped over the poor bloke. In their apparent haste to find and kill all the intruders, the soldiers must’ve forgot this particular victim. He’d been killed by blunt force trauma to the back of the head, probably never even saw the soldier who killed him. Bloody Roman efficiency-not exactly for this man, but the Doctor couldn’t shake the image of the man’s colleagues who’d been run through with swords or spears.
What’s the matter? Too much of a coward to think of them as his friends?
“I’m sorry,” he told the man quietly, as he patted him down for the recall unit. For a few desperate moments, the Doctor feared the team had knowingly come back on a suicide mission, without recall units, but no. It was just there, clipped inside a large pouch on the back of the man’s belt. The Doctor gave a firm tug, and pulled out the small device. The TOM had quieted down-probably on some sort of refresh or recharge cycle after the sudden influx of the team members-no less unnerving than the ceaseless racket of earlier, but at least nothing he had to struggle to tune out.
Now that he had what he needed, the Doctor lifted the man up and placed him on the nearest cot, and folded his arms across his chest.
Next, he needed to, as Rose had put it so eloquently, gimmick the TOM. In this instance, though, he was planning to exploit the linkages he’d established between the TARDIS and several pieces of the team’s equipment to boost the collective signals. The Doctor pulled the Hidley resonator from the shelf and soniced open its casing. He crouched over the main worktable, peering intently into the device, hoping he could remember what all modifications he’d had Mið make to the blasted thing. Only one way to find out.
If he could just figure out how to fool the TOM into another forced return, or use the TARDIS to reset the recall parameters...
At the sound of an awestruck gasp, the Doctor’s head flew up, and he froze.
No. No no no no no no no!
In the entryway of the lab stood Caecilius and Quintus, father and son, the matching set, taking in their surroundings with eyes as wide as dinner plates.
Caecilius’ jaw hung open, and Quintus let out an oath.
“Quintus!” Caecilius exclaimed, his voice filled with a mixture of disapproval and thunderstruck reverence. “Such language in a holy place!”
“Father, I’m sorry!” Quintus cried.
“Don’t apologise to me, apologise to-”
And then they both looked, and saw him.
Behind the Doctor, the TOM erupted with an unearthly shriek, and he whipped around to face the device. The TOM’s display was going mad. The Doctor’s hands flew to his ears as he watched the TOM peg at its maximum, the lights solid mauve and throbbing in time to the piercing heterodyne wail.
If he didn’t act now, right now, nothing-literally, nothing-would ever be the same again.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Part 6.2
Author: principia_coh
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Rose/Ten II
Summary: Waylaid en route to a holiday, the Doctor and Rose encounter unexpected wonders... and new dangers.
Author’s notes: Thanks to ginamak and leighleighla for their excellent and patient beta work!
Episode 9 of a virtual series at the_altverse, following The Wretched Hive last week.
Virtual Series Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
------------------------------------------------------------------
Rose was storming briskly through the Library’s corridors, her burlap bag of tools slapping against her side.
12 minutes past. Lén and Mið hadn’t reported in and they weren’t responding to her hails.
The comm roll Rose clutched tightly in her fist held the Doctor’s latest check-in, brief and to the point for the first time in days. Maybe he was starting to feel better, or had finally grabbed a catnap.
Despite the countless setbacks, she’d been hoping until now that the rally point she’d scoped out on wouldn’t be necessary. Even if she thought it was safe to head to the lab to check for Mið, she couldn’t get to it without blowing past the rendezvous. But she could route herself through Lén’s section of the search grid, see what-or who-she might find on the way.
After a few more minutes, she reached Lén’s zone. She checked each of the nooks and side rooms as she went, looking for any familiar objects, or any trace of Lén himself. No broken furniture or scattered bits of marble, no scrolls out of place, no obvious signs of foul play or misadventure.
She stopped to take a quick look back at her roll, see if maybe Lén had reported moving on and she’d missed it. No such luck. She started back towards the meeting place, at a trot now.
Rose felt the insistent buzz from the roll clear through her burlap bag, and came to a halt, ducking back out of the corridor and stepping into the shadows. She quickly unrolled the papyrus and ran her hand across the surface, hoping to see something from Mið or Lén.
Two words, in the Doctor’s precise script, two words like ice going down her back.
They’re gone.
********************************************************************
Rose was sprinting through the Library now at full pelt. Good thing she’d decided to ditch the cloak and robe days ago, or she’d have gone arse over teakettle half a dozen times by now.
As she neared the rendezvous, she slowed down first to a brisk walk, then to a measured pace. If there were any unfriendlies here, she didn’t want to clue them in to her proximity.
She entered the larger room that held her and the Doctor’s “safe” spot. No sign of him yet. As she caught her breath, Rose took off her chest-lamp and set it carefully on the table. This nook had been the best of a bad set of options; she’d improve her odds with a bit of concealment. Rose surveyed the great room-those shelves about 20 yards back looked like they could accommodate a reasonably slim person between them, and the entire area was already in shadow.
Rose slotted herself between the shelves and waited. A few minutes later, her patience was rewarded. She saw first the soft gleam of another lamp peeking around the far entrance to the room, then the Doctor, in profile. He didn’t enter quickly, but he was breathing hard, almost to the point of hyperventilating.
So no change there then.
The Doctor must’ve caught the shine from her own lamp coming from exactly where he and she were meant to meet. He stomped past a column into the nook, and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. He advanced cautiously on the light, poking at it with the tip of the sonic when he was near enough. After a moment of watching the lamp teeter back and forth, he seemed satisfied, returning the sonic to his pocket.
“Olley olley oxen free,” he sang out quietly into the surrounding area.
Rose slipped out and padded towards him.
The Doctor picked up the lamp from the table and spun on his heels, offering the lamp back to her. “Not very sporting,” he chided her in an attempt at a tease, voice wavering. “I can hear you breathing.”
Rose concentrated on strapping her lamp back on as she mulled over her options. Now that she was up close, she could see the Doctor’s fingers were tapping a fast rhythm at his sides, and he looked like he wanted nothing more than to set a land speed record getting the hell away from here.
She couldn’t blame him in the least.
“Did you hear or see anything on your way?”
“TOM’s whining like a homesick boy in his first term at public school. I think it misses its mum.”
He laughed an odd, thin little laugh, then looked away.
Not no change. Worse.
He must’ve seen what she was thinking. “I do hear it, Rose. All the time, everywhere, here.”
“I know,” Rose said, trying to keep down her own butterflies, “I know. Must be driving you mad.”
She couldn’t believe she’d just said that out loud. The Doctor didn’t seem to either. Rose’s face heated up, and she went back to wrestling the lamp back between her breasts. “If you say they’re gone, I believe you.”
“Good to know,” he snapped at her, then immediately looked contrite.
“Doctor...”
She moved to soothe him, but he slipped around behind the table and started pacing restlessly.
Rose scratched fiercely where her potato sack of a bag was still scraping across her shoulder. She wanted to hurl the blasted thing clear across the room, but this was no time for a tantrum.
“We should check where they were and where they were supposed to be going,” she offered.
The Doctor shook his head vehemently. “Too many exceeded tolerances, sudden disappearances. No time. Less than no time.”
“Then we have to get back to the lab.”
Rose turned on her heels and headed off in that direction, hoping the Doctor would follow. He bounded after her and took only a moment to catch up.
“Rose, no, wait, we shouldn’t, we can’t, it won’t do any good.”
“But we have to. Isn’t that where the demolition team’s gonna come in?”
“Maybe Messrs L and M were pushed back, maybe they were pulled back, but nothing and no-one is here right now except us and please.”
He was glancing about fitfully, like he expected the walls to come alive around them at any moment. Rose knew if she looked into his eyes, really looked, she’d stop. So she kept one step ahead of him.
“Since they’re not here yet, any chance we can stop them from coming through?”
“Yes. I mean, no. Maybe. I don’t know. No, definitely not, they haven’t got the right stuff.”
“We can’t gimmick their equipment into blocking them out or something? What about the TOM?”
“She’s not a fighter, our TARDIS. If she could, she’d bat them back into the Vortex, and if there was no-one playing catcher on the other end...”
Rose stopped on a sixpence. He nearly bowled them both over, but she caught herself and spun on him. She hadn’t asked him about the TARDIS.
“The TARDIS. Oh my god, I’d completely forgot. What about the TARDIS?”
“She’s being a good little girl. Not a peep out of her.”
“I’m not talking about... look, they’ve got perception filters, yeah? Who’s gonna build a cloak they can’t see through?”
“No hide and seek, only seek and find. They’ll round her up like dogcatchers on a stray.”
Dogcatchers?
Shit.
Wait a minute...
Rose grabbed the Doctor by the hand, nearly yanking him off his feet with the force of her pull.
“Time to see a man about a dog! C’mon!”
********************************************************************
The day they’d spent with the Caeciliuses, the Doctor had spent a good chunk of time regaling her about the Romans and their feasts that often extended well into the night. She’d just have to count on them being 24-hour party people.
She and the Doctor had winged their way through the lanes and alleys of Alexandria as fast as their legs could take them, but the effort had clearly drained the Doctor-he’d propped himself against a wall in the alcove outside Lobus and Metella’s door. She looked back over her shoulder and saw in the moonlight that he’d tilted his head back and closed his eyes, and was at least trying to take deep, calming breaths.
She knocked on the door of the villa, first delicately and then more urgently when she heard movements near the door.
“Dorsuo, is that you? Can you open up, please?” she called softly. “It’s Mr and Mrs Spartacus. Please, it’s urgent.”
The footsteps retreated and she thought she could hear muffled voices coming back up the entry hall.
“Hello?”
After another moment, the door swung open in front of her and there stood Lobus Caecilius, ready with a gracious smile that quickly faded. Whatever words the man had had planned died on his lips as he took in Rose’s state of dress. It looked like he couldn’t tell whether to be more taken aback by her out in public in a tunic, or the Doctor’s condition.
“I, I’m sorry to come to you like this, but we need your help.”
Lobus gawped at her as politely as he could, but the shock on Dorsuo’s face told her really how rough she must look.
“There were these... thugs. At the Library, we barely escaped.”
Rose heard a sharp exclamation of astonishment from behind the men. Metella’s voice rang out forcefully. “Lobus, Dorsuo, help them inside this instant!”
She pushed her way past her stunned husband and manservant and took Rose gently by the arm. “Come in, come in, come in. By the household gods, what’s happened to you?”
Metella led Rose into the atrium while Lobus and Dorsuo helped to guide the Doctor inside. To put it bluntly, he looked like death warmed over. Rose hoped like hell he was laying it on for their benefit.
Lobus and Dorsuo led the Doctor to the nearest bench. He gently pushed them away and sat slowly, leaning back to rest his head on the cool concrete.
“It’s a long story,” the Doctor rasped from his seat.
Good. She didn’t want to have to do this on her own.
“Dorsuo, fetch Licina and Sura. And have Maro bring out some food and drink. We’ll take it in the dining room.”
“Yes ma’am.”
He swiftly exited the room, leaving only Lobus and Metella behind. Lobus hovered in the middle of the atrium, wringing his hands nervously.
Licina quickly appeared at Metella’s shoulder with a pitcher and cloths, trying very hard not to stare.
“I’ll take those, Licina. Please go with Sura and set a room for our guests.”
Licina pried her eyes away from Rose, ducked her head, and scuttled away.
Metella watched the girl go, then turned back to Rose, brushing the hair away from her eyes. “Take a deep breath, and tell us what’s happened, if you can.”
“Like I said, there were these men. They’re gone now, but we couldn’t think of what else to do except to come here.”
Metella patted Rose’s hand. “There, there, it’ll be alright, we’re glad to help. Aren’t we, Lobus?”
Lobus looked between the Doctor and Rose, flummoxed. “You were staying in the Library?”
“No,” the Doctor answered hoarsely, “We left our cabinet there, for safekeeping.”
“We didn’t expect to be here this long, but there were... complications,” Rose added, “It holds everything we brought to Alexandria. The Doctor’s tools, our clothes, everything.”
“But why would you choose to visit it in the middle of the night?” Lobus asked, befuddled. “I have to admit the ways of your peoples do confound me.”
“We were trying to take it away from there, but then...” the Doctor ventured, then trailed off.
“Well of course they’d have to go there in the night, Lobus,” Metella retorted, “You know better than I do that vehicles of commerce aren’t allowed on the roads during the day. What were they going to do, carry it through the streets on their backs?”
Metella gave her husband a long, imploring stare.
“I don’t suppose we could offer them the use of ours.”
“Metella, at this hour?”
Lobus sounded scandalised, but Metella wasn’t put off. “I wish I knew where Quintus was, you could use another strong back. If he comes, I’ll send him along to help you,” she continued.
“My love, a word?”
Lobus drew Metella aside, to the far side of the atrium. Rose couldn’t make out exactly what they were heatedly whispering to one another, and she could hardly ask the Doctor given the circumstances.
I guess we’ll just have to wait.
********************************************************************
“Come on Maro,” Quintus pleaded. “I know I missed supper, but you can’t leave me to go the night on a barracks supper. You know how terrible the food is there.”
“Master Quintus,” Maro answered firmly “This food is for the family’s guests. Mr and Mrs Spartacus have returned.”
“They’re having a proper party and I missed it? Blast.”
“It isn’t a party, sir,” Maro said grimly, “They’re in terrible condition, and this is for their sustenance. If you’ll excuse me.”
Maro took both trays and started past him.
“Maro, wait. What’s happened?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know, it really isn’t my place to know. You’d have to ask your mother and father. Dorsuo says they’re speaking with them now. I really must get these to the dining room.”
“I’ll help you with those.”
“Master Quintus!”
“Maro, I’m not going to take anything. But if you could maybe put together a little plate for me?”
Maro hesitated, groaning. Quintus gestured for the trays, and Maro handed them off to him reluctantly. “I don’t want your parents to think I’m letting you do my job for me.”
“Don’t worry, they won’t even know I was here.”
“If you say so, Master.”
Maro moved quickly about the kitchen, back in search of foodstuffs. “Now where has she put the thrushes?”
Quintus took the trays to the dining room, just like he’d promised Maro, then stepped into the hallway. He caught sight of his parents huddling together, in a conference.
“Of course the city guard needs to know that there are ruffians plaguing the Library’s campus,” his mother hissed urgently, “but you heard the Doctor and Rose. Their would-be robbers fled. Best to wait for the morning so everyone has a clear head and can give the captain the best details.”
“But to attack a representative of the Emperor and his wife, on the grounds of the Library itself, Metella!”
“I know you’re worried, Lobus, but see how desperately they need our aid. If we ever needed such help, I have no doubt they would give it to us gladly.”
“Fine, then, we’ll get them back there, and help them retrieve their belongings. But I’m reporting this first thing tomorrow morning!”
“I would never suggest you’d do otherwise.”
Quintus could hardly believe his ears. A mob at the Library, in the middle of the night? He needed to report this at once. Mother might dismiss the Spartacus’ attackers as simple robbers, but Father was right. He must let his commander know at once, especially with his father and family’s servants heading there.
Quintus quickly snuck back down the hall and made his way outside to his horse. If he left now, he’d surely make it back to the watch before his family were put in any danger.
********************************************************************
While they waited for Lobus and Metella to finish their conference, Rose dabbed the back of her neck with the damp cloth Licina had left.
Rose saw slow movement in her peripheral vision, heard the soft sweep of sandals on the floor. Here came Metella and Lobus, smiling bravely.
“Doctor, Rose, we would be delighted to lend you our carriage,” Lobus volunteered.
“Don’t be absurd, Lobus,” Metella countered, no-nonsense, “The carriage would scarcely fit you, the Doctor, and Rose, much less the men and a large crate besides. You should take the delivery cart for the workshop and the carriage.”
Lobus winced. “Oh, of course.”
“We keep it here because it’s easier to secure the horses and whatnot in a single location. The others can follow in the carriage so everyone has room to come back,” Metella offered-straight to the Doctor.
“Thank you,” he murmured gravely.
“Hold on just a minute, you’re not going anywhere without me,” Rose argued.
“But Rose, you’ve already had such a difficult time.” Metella interjected.
Rose walked to the bench and sat beside the Doctor, who looked like he was a million miles (or years) away. “And he hasn’t? I’m going with him.”
The Doctor reached for her hand blindly, and squeezed it firmly, closing his eyes and sighing. Rose looked first to Lobus, then Metella, doe-eyed. She hated playing on their sympathy, but she didn’t know what else to do.
“The sooner we may depart, the sooner we may return,” Lobus told Metella firmly. “I’ll tell Dorsuo to prepare the horses.”
Metella stopped Lobus as he passed her to give him a peck on the cheek, then followed him out of the room.
********************************************************************
“Oh, if I’ve never seen a gladder sight! Master Caecilius, look. The city guards are here!”
The Doctor’s hand twitched against Rose’s thigh as he sat up straight in response to Dorsuo’s cry. Rose leaned forward, trying to catch the best glimpse she could out of the carriage’s window and past the Doctor.
“You’d best not do that, Rose,” Lobus cautioned her. “If they see us with a young woman at this time of night, they’ll detain us for certain.”
Rose sat back and watched the Doctor. He was staring wordlessly out at the scenery they were passing by. At the distance between the lane and the courtyard in front of the Library’s entrance, Rose could only tell that there was muffled shouting. The Doctor could probably make out every word; she was sure he’d tell her later if she’d missed anything important.
“Perhaps they could help us with your cabinet?” Lobus mused aloud to himself.
The Doctor’s entire body tensed, and he swallowed hard as he continued tracking whatever was going on outside. Lobus leaned forward from his own seat to have a look, but they were passing along the side of the Library now. Rose hoped the presence of the military police wasn’t going to complicate retrieving the TARDIS.
As for trying to talk the demolition team down when they arrived, well, that was another matter entirely. She’d been thinking how best to approach the problem. Neither she nor the Doctor (as far as she knew) had considered that the recall units would’ve snatched Mið and Lén home without a moment’s warning. No-one wanted to risk them becoming a temporal artefact, detached from a ruined timeline, but it seemed ludicrous that their bosses would have them simply vanish in the middle of what could’ve been a potential breakthrough. Maybe she could use that to their advantage, persuade the team to be a help instead of an obstacle to be overcome.
The TCC sounded like a rational lot; they’d need at least 8 to 10 people to get their arrangements made quickly, and that would be enough to fan out and get the rest of the candidate objects assessed quickly. Worst case, she and the Doctor could help them round up the remaining bits and that lot could take every last bit back with them.
“No, no, I’m quite sure they have more important tasks than seeing to a citizen’s private property. We’ll proceed on as planned.”
The Doctor slid carefully back onto the seat and squeezed Rose’s hand. He looked at her and smiled a tired, sad little smile, then kissed her on the forehead. Lobus looked away bashfully.
“Thank you for going to this trouble for us,” Rose murmured to Lobus.
Lobus bowed his head slightly. “What else are friends for?”
The little parade of wagons finally reached the far end of the Library’s incomplete eastern expansion, near where she and the Doctor had first come in. She heard Dorsuo cajoling the horses as they came to a stop. The carriage shook slightly as he dismounted, then came around to the door to let Rose out.
Dorsuo gallantly helped Rose out of the carriage. Rose cracked her back and knuckles as first Lobus and then the Doctor clambered out behind her. Rose had taken Metella up on her offer of a replacement robe and cloak; she’d attract less attention this way, especially in this more practical mix of cotton and wool, but she had to get used to this confining wrap again.
The workshop’s cart had been just behind them when they’d left; maybe they’d been stopped by the guards on the way in? Oh, here it came. Not more than about a minute behind.
Lobus and the Doctor trudged over to the cart to talk to the men. Rose knew she’d been pressing her luck by being allowed along, so she stayed back with the carriage, pretending to visit with the horses while she took a quick glance around this entrance area.
Lobus continued speaking quietly to his men, occasionally looking over his shoulder at Rose. The Doctor jogged lightly over to Rose.
“Bit chilly out here tonight.”
Rose blinked, taken aback by the suddenly lucid small talk, almost like the borderline mania he’d been suffering from for the past several days had never happened.
“Yes,” she agreed slowly.
“Glad you’re wrapped up properly, is all. So.”
“So.”
“Caecilius has told his men to take instructions from you while they’re here. Think of you as they would Metella, he’s said. Since they seem well terrified of her, can’t imagine they’ll give you any guff. See you back at the villa, then!”
“What?” she barked, probably a bit too loudly, since Lobus and his men looked over and gave her awkward smiles and a wave or two.
“You’re going to get this lot to the TARDIS, get her packed up snug as a bug in a rug, and then you’re going to take her back to chez Caecilii.”
“You can’t be serious,” Rose growled.
“We can hardly send them off through the streets of Alexandria with the TARDIS by themselves,” he countered, far too reasonably.
He had a point.
“Get going, and when the coast is clear I’ll follow in the carriage. We don’t want it to look like a convoy.”
Rose pulled up short. “What about Lobus and Dorsuo?”
“Hmm? Oh, they’re coming along in the carriage too. No probs.”
Rose tried to consider the Doctor’s 180-degree mood swing objectively, like she’d have assessed an unstable team member back in her days at Torchwood. Maybe the high-pitched, nonstop racket from Lén and Mið’s equipment really had been what was bothering him, the source of his erratic behaviour, and now that he’d had a break from it he’d be better long enough for them to get this settled and get out of here.
“Okay.”
Rose gave the Doctor a quick hug (far briefer than she’d like), then walked over to her new team as he watched her go.
Rose stopped in front of the group of very confused toga-clad labourers. “Thank you for coming out at this hour to do a bit of heavy lifting. Any questions before we get started?”
********************************************************************
The Doctor watched Rose go to do what she did best, be the glue that held everyone together. Even in the meagre, flickering light from the lanterns he could see her taking command of Caecilius’ men, strong and self-assured.
Everyone was so calm and collected, even old Caecilius. He’d legged it, probably to get a bit of proper work done so long as they were here. That was good, very good.
It meant the Doctor was the only one who’d taken in the full measure of what was happening at the front of the Library.
Well before the carriage had been close enough for him to have a look, he’d heard the city guards talking over the clatter of the horses’ hooves. Even before that, he’d felt the timelines snap like overstretched piano strings, the discordant notes leaving a bitter taste in his mouth and shocking him back to his senses. The Cloister Bell would be resounding like mad inside the TARDIS, poor girl.
When one of the soldiers had announced “We think this is the last of them,” the Doctor had been prepared to see Drs Matagal’s and Pembekuan’s colleagues being hauled before the commander of the watch. He’d already begun a formless thought of rescue, of protection, of taking head counts and the other practicalities Rose was so good at.
Instead, two foot soldiers had ever so efficiently placed a bloody, lifeless body at the end of a row of corpses laid out for the commander’s inspection, each one completely and utterly unarmed.
A good dozen innocent men and women lay dead at the foot of the Library’s stairs, their blood on his hands as surely as if he’d taken their lives himself. This was his failure, his shame, not some dateless, dusty memory from his old life.
Facts, immutable Facts were closing around him and Rose, like leaves of a shutter blocking out the light. If he didn’t, if he couldn’t...
Marble, marble, everywhere, and not the marbles to think.
Those people deserved to get home one way or the other. Or if he couldn’t even manage that, the technology they’d brought with them had to be removed from this time period. The surest way to do that required access to the lab.
But first things first-he needed one of the team’s recall units.
********************************************************************
Lobus strode quickly through the corridors of this unfinished area of the Library, hoping to find one of the city guards nearby, either here or in the original building. It vexed him that he hadn’t been able to see what was happening outside, especially having seen the look on the Doctor’s face. He could only imagine how aggrieved the man must feel, seeing the city guard so close to where he and his wife had been assaulted. If only they’d been present when they were needed!
He felt strangely confident in ordering his staff to take directions from Mrs Spartacus. Comparing Rose to Metella had been no exaggeration; the girl really did remind him of his wife, in the best ways. Quintus could use a wife like her to keep him on the steady path, even if she wasn’t Roman. Such things scarcely mattered in the Army these days.
He wondered, might she have a sister?
After a good bit of searching about, Lobus was starting to despair of finding any help. Not to mention that he’d somehow got himself completely turned around in the Library he was helping to expand. Hardly a good impression to make on a member of the watch. At best they’d think he was drunk, wandering around here at this hour of night. Better to make his way back to the carriage.
He decided to follow a piece of advice once given to him by a designer of mazes-place your hand on the wall to your right, and continue following that wall until you reached one of the exits. But only if there were additional inner walls. Or was that only if there weren’t additional inner walls? Oh dear.
“You there! Halt this instant!” a voice rang out, clear and authoritative.
Lobus froze in place and waited patiently for the owner of the voice to catch up with him. If he had to be caught out by anyone, at least it was Quintus. He didn’t know what in Tartarus his son was doing here, but if he’d had to pull an additional duty shift it would certainly explain why he’d missed supper.
“It is only me, your father.”
Quintus breathed an audible sigh of relief and came to stand before him. “What are you doing wandering through here alone?”
“I would think the customary question to ask would be as to what I’m doing here at all this hour of the night. It is a long and unfortunate tale. One I was hoping to end by getting back home to your mother before the sun rises.”
Quintus lips curved slightly upward, and pointed to his left. “The front entrance is that way. But it is rather busy out there. Which way did you come in?”
“We had come around to the easternmost end of the expansions.”
“Ah, that would be back this way, then. I can at least escort you to the carriage.”
They marched back through the Library as quickly as the minimal light of their lanterns allowed. The openings in the unfinished area should provide at least a bit more light once they got there.
Lobus yawned loudly. Quintus did the same, and gave him a regretful smile in return. Did his son actually look guilty?
“I know why you’re here, Father,” Quintus began, after another minute’s progress. “I was in the hall and overheard you and Mother talking.”
“Quintus!”
“I know, I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but you were right. You did need the city guard. It isn’t safe here.”
Lobus frowned. “The Doctor and Rose were so certain their assailants had made their escape. Surely, they would not have asked us to come here otherwise.”
“Then perhaps they were mistaken, in their haste to get away. Or their attackers returned. Either way, it is settled now.”
Lobus stopped in his tracks. “What do you mean? What’s happened?”
“When I alerted my commander-hold a moment, father. What is that, up there?”
A cold radiance cast shafts of illumination into the great hall of the unfinished expansion, some distance ahead of them. Across the light moved back and forth a shadow-unless Lobus was mistaken, one in the shape of a man.
Lobus felt drawn to the light. He began to move to meet it, but Quintus grabbed him by the arm.
“Father, no!”
“You may be a member of the Roman Army now, but do not presume that gives you the right to order me about like one of the servants,” Lobus rebuked him. “Surely we must see what this is!”
“Please, Father, wait here. That... illumination is unnatural. Let me bring back Libo. He’s the nearest other member of the watch. We can trust him.”
“Since when do you not trust the other members of your squad? I ask you again to tell me what’s happened.”
The light ahead of them had gone clear again, beckoning to them.
“Do you see, my son? It shines like the brightest moonlight, amplified to the strength of day, as if it came from Diana herself.”
Quintus looked nervously upon the light, then back to his father. He gestured for Lobus to go ahead of him. Not without resting his hand on the hilt of his sword, Lobus noted.
They crept along quietly until they reached the light, then turned into its source, squinting. Lobus looked to his son and smiled reassuringly. Together, they stepped inside.
********************************************************************
The Doctor had thought he was going to have to convince the commander of the guard to allow him to inspect the bodies of the team members, or create a distraction sufficient to lure what seemed like an entire platoon of Roman soldiers away from the entrance to the Library.
Instead, he’d found another slain team member, damn near tripped over the poor bloke. In their apparent haste to find and kill all the intruders, the soldiers must’ve forgot this particular victim. He’d been killed by blunt force trauma to the back of the head, probably never even saw the soldier who killed him. Bloody Roman efficiency-not exactly for this man, but the Doctor couldn’t shake the image of the man’s colleagues who’d been run through with swords or spears.
What’s the matter? Too much of a coward to think of them as his friends?
“I’m sorry,” he told the man quietly, as he patted him down for the recall unit. For a few desperate moments, the Doctor feared the team had knowingly come back on a suicide mission, without recall units, but no. It was just there, clipped inside a large pouch on the back of the man’s belt. The Doctor gave a firm tug, and pulled out the small device. The TOM had quieted down-probably on some sort of refresh or recharge cycle after the sudden influx of the team members-no less unnerving than the ceaseless racket of earlier, but at least nothing he had to struggle to tune out.
Now that he had what he needed, the Doctor lifted the man up and placed him on the nearest cot, and folded his arms across his chest.
Next, he needed to, as Rose had put it so eloquently, gimmick the TOM. In this instance, though, he was planning to exploit the linkages he’d established between the TARDIS and several pieces of the team’s equipment to boost the collective signals. The Doctor pulled the Hidley resonator from the shelf and soniced open its casing. He crouched over the main worktable, peering intently into the device, hoping he could remember what all modifications he’d had Mið make to the blasted thing. Only one way to find out.
If he could just figure out how to fool the TOM into another forced return, or use the TARDIS to reset the recall parameters...
At the sound of an awestruck gasp, the Doctor’s head flew up, and he froze.
No. No no no no no no no!
In the entryway of the lab stood Caecilius and Quintus, father and son, the matching set, taking in their surroundings with eyes as wide as dinner plates.
Caecilius’ jaw hung open, and Quintus let out an oath.
“Quintus!” Caecilius exclaimed, his voice filled with a mixture of disapproval and thunderstruck reverence. “Such language in a holy place!”
“Father, I’m sorry!” Quintus cried.
“Don’t apologise to me, apologise to-”
And then they both looked, and saw him.
Behind the Doctor, the TOM erupted with an unearthly shriek, and he whipped around to face the device. The TOM’s display was going mad. The Doctor’s hands flew to his ears as he watched the TOM peg at its maximum, the lights solid mauve and throbbing in time to the piercing heterodyne wail.
If he didn’t act now, right now, nothing-literally, nothing-would ever be the same again.
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Part 6.2