vail-kagami: Set in Stone, Part 3/5 (Jack/Ten) [NC-17]
Title: Set in Stone (3/5)
Author:
vail_kagami
Challenge: Myths
Rating: NC-17 overall
Spoilers: Torchwood: Exit Wounds
Warnings: Violence
Summary: There is a legend on a distant planet, telling of a brave hero who once saved the world from a terrible demon.
Note: The next part will probably need more than the usual two days to show up since most of it I haven't written yet.
The TARDIS shakes violently, throwing them to the floor as she tears away from her path and spins blindly through the vortex. To be exact she throws Jack to the floor. The Doctor once again manages to somehow land on the couch that cushions his fall. Jack secretly suspects that the ship only does things like this when her pilot is standing in front of something soft to fall on. If that was true the Doctor could avoid her bad behaviour by never standing near anything comfortable. Jack’ll have to suggest that someday.
Or not. Because keeping the Doctor away from soft surfaces means keeping him away from their beds. And that, Jack decides, just isn’t worth it.
As usual the Doctor is back on his feet first and at the door in an instant. Jack hurries to run after him. There’ll be trouble outside. If the TARDIS throws them around like ice cubes in a glass of lemonade before ending up somewhere they definitely didn’t want to go there’s always trouble.
Stepping outside after the other man Jack has to admit that it doesn’t look like trouble. They’re greeted by a yellow sky dominated by a large red sun. It’s warm, a soft wind is blowing and there even are birds singing nearby. Either that or the people inhabiting this word have a weird way of communicating with each other.
Then again, the people could be birds. Jack can’t tell because he’s never been here before. Every time they make an unplanned stop and Jack doesn’t recognize the place they’ve ended up in a part of him is relieved.
What Jack thought to be a wide field at first turns out to be a large part in the centre of a city. Its seeming wildness isn’t quite as wild as he thought and there are paths running through it. It’s quite idyllic, Jack has to admit. So it’s all the more surprising that they appear to be the only visitors.
“Bit lonely, don’t you think?” the Doctor voices what Jack is thinking. “I wonder where everyone is.”
“Maybe the city’s deserted,” Jack wonders, but there’s no conviction in it. This park has been taken care of until recently. If the place had been abandoned it happened no more than two days before.
The Doctor shakes his head.
“It doesn’t feel deserted,” he says. “But something’s definitely wrong here. Can’t you feel it?”
Jack can’t, knowing it means nothing. He’s used to the Time Lord sensing things closed to him.
The buildings they can see are hundreds of metres high, connected by walkways hanging in the air in a way that defies the laws of statics. A very advanced civilisation then, at least compared to twenty-first century Earth. The Doctor takes the path most likely leading out of the park and Jack follows, keeping his eyes open for any danger.
The Time Lord is wearing his coat, Jack only now notices. He hasn’t worn it inside the TARDIS, must have grabbed it when he ran outside. Jack himself is already feeling a little warm but the Doctor, coming from a planet much cooler than Earth, seems completely unaffected by any kind of weather. It’s nothing new to the human, still things small like this never chase to amaze him.
Being amazed by the Doctor is another thing Jack’s used to, though he’ll never grow tired of it. Most amazing for him is the fact that his fantasies about bedding the Time Lord have become true. It’s been years since the Doctor has first let Jack make love to him but a part of the human is still trying to figure out how he can be so lucky.
Much hasn’t changed between them since that day. Outside Jack’s bedroom their life is the same it has been before. Sex doesn’t happen nearly as often as Jack would like and so far he’s taken his Time Lord only in bed. He’s even refrained from using all the toys he’s stored away in various drawers. Compared to the inventive and at times pretty extreme ways of shagging he’s used to sex with the Doctor is always tame, simple. Jack has never even tried to take it beyond the most basic level for fear of scaring his friend (beloved) away. Despite his age and experience in any other respect the Time Lord is a shy and insecure lover, even after all the time they’ve been doing this. Passive most of the time, but Jack has quickly discovered what a fast learner his Doctor is and what kind of fantastic things he can do with his hands and mouth. He’s started with copying Jack’s actions but soon went beyond that, still looking slightly anxious all the time as if thinking he couldn’t be good enough for someone as experienced as Jack while the human writhes desperately under his touch and tries no to lose his mind.
The last time they made love was one week ago and even then the Doctor seemed nervous and slightly lost. He never really got used to all that physical pleasure Jack can’t imagine living without and every now and then gives the impression of someone desperately trying to hide his fear.
Jack has never been strong enough to think about that too much.
He knows the Doctor worries about disappointing him and nothing Jack could say would make him see how fucking perfect he is. It’s Jack who’s at constant risk of losing this little piece of heaven that’s been granted him by whatever twist of fate. The Doctor doesn’t need sex like he does and he’s constantly afraid of pushing too far, of doing anything wrong. Sometimes the passion takes him away and when his brain starts working again Jack is scared for a moment, trying to recall every minute of the night before to make sure he didn’t hurt the other when his rational mind stopped functioning. No matter how powerful the Time Lord may be, in the dim light of Jack’s bedroom, shivering under his touch, he appears fragile, as if any wrong movement could break him
Every time Jack takes him it is the Doctor who’s really dominating their lovemaking, as this can only go on as long as he allows it to.
Right now he’s walking down the path with long, firm strides, so eager to discover what’s going on here and how he can help. Despite the danger they’re most likely walking into Jack finds himself smiling - the Doctor has no idea how alluring his shy frailty in bed is in comparison to his confident and strong personality used to controlling every situation.
At the edge of the park trees are growing, the leafs blue and purple, the trunks white. The exit is marked by an archway, and on the left side there’s a tall statue of a woman. The arch is made of some sort of metal but the statue is stone. The woman portrayed reminds Jack of a Greek goddess in her long wide grown, except those never had hair this short.
There are cut flowers on the ground in front of her.
Behind the gate a different world greets them: high towers, gleaming metal and three levels of roads, the highest one almost half a mile above the ground. On any normal day these streets should be full of cars and people, the air full of noise. Now they can only hear the birds.
And a low humming that quickly grows louder. Down the straight street, on the ground level, a sleek, silvery vehicle approaches and as it comes closer Jack can see that it is lacking wheels and hovers not quite one metre above the street. The door flies open, or rather disappears from one moment to the next and a man poked his head out.
At least Jack supposes it’s a man. It could be a woman or neither or something else altogether. He’s never met this species before. The person is humanoid and would not look very different from him or the Doctor if it wasn’t for the blue skin and the horns extruding from his head.
“What are you still doing here?” the stranger shouts and from the voice Jack decides it’s safe enough to use the pronoun ‘he’. “It’s dangerous! Quick, come in!” He offers them his hand. The Doctor takes it after exchanging a brief glance with Jack and the man pulls him into the car. Jack follows immediately. The second he’s inside the door comes back and he lands in the seat without any trace of elegance as the vehicle speeds up.
As does the Doctor. He still manages to look cute and sexy while he struggles to get back into a dignified position.
Apart from the guy pulling them in there are two others in the car, and Jack suspects one more, driving it behind the screen sealing off the front part of the vehicle. It could be an automatic car but he’s seen windows from the outside, even if he couldn’t look inside. A computer wouldn’t need those.
The car is large enough to have room for at least four more. The Doctor and Jack are sitting on the broad bench, facing the three others. They are all wearing similar clothes. The light isn’t very good but Jack notices that only two of them are blue-skinned. The last one has violet skin and white hair and is obviously female. She’s also lacking horns.
Neither of them gives them any weird looks, which confirms Jack’s guess that this civilisation has long since mastered space travel and aliens aren’t so unusual a sight here.
“Sorry if it’s a stupid question, but we’ve spend the last year living in a cave,” the Doctor begins. “What exactly is going on here? What are we running away from?”
Now they are giving them funny looks.
“How can you not know?” the woman asks in a surprisingly deep voice.
“We only just arrived on this planet,” Jack explains.
“The warning is getting transmitted within a radius of ten light years.”
“Well, yes, our receiver is kind of broken,” the Doctor says, faking embarrassment. “That’s what we came for. To have it fixed. So what’s wrong?”
“The Lacarrest,” the black haired man that invited them in explains, apparently not seeing the need to go into details.
“And that would be?”
They’re staring again.
“It’s devastated worlds! Surely you have heard of it.”
“Just pretend we’re a bit stupid,” the Doctor grins cheerfully.
Now it’s the other man who speaks. His hair is white like that of the woman and like her he doesn’t have horns. Jack wonders if they’re even all the same species.
“The Lacarrest is an insubstantial shadow that has come to existence on Ielanon. It has slipped into this dimension when they managed to open a gate between the universes. The entire civilisation of Ielanon is gone.”
The Doctor straightens a little.
“Ah,” he says.
“What does it want?” asks Jack.
“What else? Power. To live. It seems it needs a living host to stay in this realm but everyone it takes over withers away within days. So it’s after the Source.”
“The Source?” The Doctor raises his head sharply. “This wouldn’t be Traken, by any chance?” Before anyone can answer he shakes his head to himself. “Of course not. Traken looks completely different. Besides…” He stops for the blink of an eye. “This is quite obviously Dool. And the Source is the Doolian source of power contained in the Temple of Higher Knowledge. The one that’s empowering your empire, fuelling your spaceships and plainly keeping this nice city from crashing down on us.”
There is this moment of silence that often occurs after the Doctor has spoken.
“How do you know that?” the horned man asks, his voice dangerously low.
“Oh, big empire you’re running here. Everyone knows that.” The Doctor notes their expressions and frowns. “Or don’t they?”
Apparently they don’t.
-
The doors disappear again and the two time travellers leave the car to step into a high, bight hall that smells of flowers. Along the walls there are statues. The clothes and hairstyles vary but Jack soon realises that they all show the woman they have already seen in the park. It seems a little strange - worshipping mythical gods is unusual on planets this far advanced.
The three Dool get out behind them and only now that they’re standing does Jack notice that all of them, even the woman, are about a head’s length taller than him and the Doctor. In the proper light he can also see that their clothes aren’t just similar, they’re identical. They’re wearing uniforms.
The Doctor scowls at them. He doesn’t like people in uniforms.
Mostly because they usually carry weapons. Like these three.
“This way, please,” the woman says.
“You’re arresting us?” Jack joins the Doctor in scowling. “What for?”
“For being suspicious,” she says plainly. “You never heard of the Lacarrest yet you know about the Source.”
“I know about nothing,” Jack growls under his breath.
The Doctor glances at him while their new friends escort them through the building.
“The Doolan Empire spreads over a good part of the galaxy known on Earth as Andromeda. It takes its power from a Source not unlike the Eye of Harmony. Well, completely unlike the Eye of Harmony, but it works in a similar way. Makes it very unwise to fight a war against them because the power of their weapons and protective force fields never runs out. Fortunately they’re basically a peace loving race. Unless they think you’re ‘suspicious’,” he adds dryly.
The white haired man is glaring at them, otherwise the Doctor’s words are ignored even though he didn’t bother to speak quietly.
“Maybe not the best place for this discussion,” Jack whispers none the less.
“Oh, they can’t understand us,” the Doctor waves off his concern. “The TARDIS isn’t translating. I’m speaking English right now, and so are you.”
Jack tries to get this in.
“Why isn’t it translating?” he asks, causing the Doctor to look at him blankly.
“So they don’t understand what we’re saying,” he explains as if it was obvious. Jack suspects that it is. “I don’t want her to so she doesn’t.”
The human thinks about this for a moment, then he shrugs.
“Convenient,” he has to admit. “And since we’re aliens anyway they wouldn’t think it weird that we speak another language.” A thought crosses his mind. “Wait, what if they can translate it? Our appearances didn’t surprise them so maybe they have come across humans before and know English.”
“I highly doubt that. Earth won’t have space travel for another several thousand years. The English language doesn’t even exist yet.”
Well. Good thing so many species look generally the same in this universe.
“What does this shadow thing want with the Source then?”
The Doctor shrugs.
“Nothing good, I suppose. We’ll have to ask someone.” Jack guesses that the translation works again when his friend addresses the woman: “Where are you taking us?”
“To Lady Inerala,” he is told. “She will know if you are a danger to the Empire.”
“At least this isn’t Torchwood, where every alien is defined a danger by existing,” the Doctor mumbles. Jack decides not to have heard him.
“Who’s Inerala?” he asks the Doctor, hoping the TARDIS gets that the question is only meant for him. By the disbelieving looks the Dool throw in his direction he suspects it didn’t work.
“The Goddess all these statues show. According to legend she’s the one who brought Dool the Source. I always thought she was just a myth though,” the Doctor answers thoughtfully.
“You think she isn’t?”
The Time Lord flashes him a grin.
“We’ll find out, won’t we?”
“Are we speaking English now?”
“Of course. Would sound silly if we weren’t.”
Jack sighs and shakes his head.
“What if she’s not real? We have to face some insane priests again who pretend to know what the gods are wishing?”
“No idea. Probably. But I’d say this Empire is too far advanced to be ruled by legends.”
“Maybe their spiritual development didn’t keep up with the technological,” Jack suggests. “Well, at least they’re a good looking species.”
Beside him the Doctor rolls his eyes. Jack chuckles and studies the three Dool more intently. Yes, very attractive indeed. Their clothes are a plain light grey that goes along well with the colours of their skin and all of them are fit and good looking.
On their way they have passed a number of other people. A large number, to be exact, and among them Jack spotted a few violet skinned men as well as blue skinned women. So their colour isn’t set by their gender like he originally thought.
“They’re also known for remaining faithful to their chosen ones instead of switching partners all the time,” the Time Lord informs him. “So look somewhere else. You see that identical sign on the back of their hands? It means they’re married.”
“To each other?” Jack looks with renewed interest. “All three of them?”
“A Dool marriage usually consists of three people,” he is told. “One from every gender.”
Jack raises his eyebrows. It’s not the first time he meets a species with more than two genders and they’re usually a lot of fun in bed. Too bad these three are taken then. Especially since sex is a nice way of breaking the ice after someone has pointed a gun at him for any length of time.
That he’s occasionally sleeping with the Doctor doesn’t mean the Time Lord wants him to stay away from other partners. On the contrary - often it seems to Jack like his lover wants him to entertain himself elsewhere, find the hard and creative action the Doctor can’t give him. And Jack does so - but not nearly as often as before. He’s never believed in monogamy but a part of him always feels guilty when he’s sleeping with anyone else. He excuses himself with the thought that he’s merely shagging these people. To the Doctor he’s making love.
That his Doctor would allow anyone else to touch him Jack doesn’t even imagine. The idea would drive him crazy.
“Where are we anyway?” the Time Lord asks their armed guides. “What’s this building? Not the Temple of Higher Knowledge, I suppose?”
“No,” the horned guy answers. Jack wonders what his function is when it comes to reproduction and if his horns have any part in it. “We’re in the Temple of Inerala.”
“Oh, right. Could have thought of that myself. Awfully many people in here, aren’t they?” When there isn’t an immediate answer the Doctor continues: “The city, on the other hand, is empty. Makes me think all the people have been taken here. Why?”
“The city isn’t safe. The Lacarrest is on its way here. The defences of the temple are the strongest.”
The Doctor nods, thoughtfully tapping his lips with his finger.
“But if it gets hold of the Source not even the Temple can save them,” he thinks aloud. “Source… I like that word. It’s so wonderfully vague.”
“Where is that Source anyway?” Jack joins the conversation.
“It’s safe,” is all the answer he gets.
“It’s beneath our feet,” the Doctor explains, probably without translation. “The Temple of Higher Knowledge is beneath the Temple of Inerala, buried in the ground. Even most Dool don’t know that.”
“How come you know it?”
“Oh, I was here before. Didn’t I mention?”
“Must have slipped your mind,” Jack sighs. “When?”
“About fife-teen thousand years from now. The Empire was already falling at that point. Less than a century later it was history.”
“If it lasted that long that would mean the Lacarrest, whatever that may be, didn’t get the Source.” Jack’s realisation is followed by the realisation that there is no guarantee in it. History is in flux. Events can change if the ones supposed to stop disaster from happening fail in their task.
“You said the Source was protecting the Empire, a never ending power supply,” Jack recalls. “Then what defeated it in the end?”
The Doctor shrugs, not looking at him.
“Time,” he says.
-
They don’t have to wait long before the armed men guarding the entrance to the inner temple step aside and let them through. It surprises the Doctor - in times of danger that’s threatening several worlds self-proclaimed gods or their self-proclaimed messengers tend to have little time for people accused of being ‘suspicious’. He doesn’t complain. It’s better than a casual death sentence to get rid of the potential problem.
The three uniformed Dool that have accompanied them until now stay behind at the door. Their places are taken two other guards, in more ceremonial looking uniforms and with masks covering their faces. In here the corridors are less high, less broad. Not meant to contain as many people, and even though some parts of the outer halls are busting with fugitives from the city in there they see no one else.
The privilege of the powerful.
The floor, the walls are made of stone, as if this temple was build in an ancient city and not inside a modern building, so large it is almost a city itself. There are some plants, windows to let in the sunlight, some pictures; not nearly as pompous as it could have been. Their little walk ends at another set of wooden double doors. They lead from the corridor back into a hall, much smaller the one they started in.
A woman in a long wide gown is awaiting them. She gestures for their guards to stay back and they stop and bow but do now leave. The Doctor and Jack step closer - she shows no fear of them or even suspicion and if she was indeed a goddess she wouldn’t have reason to. But she isn’t. She’s just an old woman.
“Lady Inerala, I presume,” the Time Lord greets her with a polite little bow. “I’m the Doctor, this is Jack. We mean you or your planet no harm.”
“I know that.” She speaks with the deep, dark voice that’s typical for females of her kind. Her face is wrinkled, her once dark hair almost completely white and her skin pale with only a hint of blue left. The woman portrayed by the statues was much younger but this is without doubt the same person. In the park he’s thought the statue was more than life-sized for even for a Dool it was very tall, but now the Doctor sees that the statues tell the truth.
Standing in front of her the Doctor can sense her age. She looks old, but not ancient. Yet he can feel the centuries. Dool do not get that old.
Intriguing.
“How so?” he wants to know.
“I know it. That has to be enough for you.” She seems gentle, but she’s definitely not used to being questioned. “What I can not tell is why you have come here. It has something to do with the Lacarrest that might bring death to my people, yet I do not sense any danger coming from you.”
“Yeah, we’re basically harmless. What I would like to know is: what exactly is this Lacarrest, what does it want with your Source and how much time until he reaches it?” The Doctor looks her in the eyes, suddenly serious. “You can’t stop it, can you? You took all the people in but if you had a way of getting rid of it you would have done so before it even reached the city.”
Her answering gaze is a little weary and the Doctor can see the worry and tiredness etched into her old features.
“Why do you want to know that?”
“So I can help,” he says softly.
She looks at him for a second. Then she nods.
“The Lacarrest came here from another dimension sixty years ago. Its powers are frightening but it can’t survive in this dimension for very long. For survival it requires a host body, but the life forms of our universe are too weak to serve it for long. It travels fast between the stars, slower on planets. It kills worlds slowly yet nothing can stop it.” She wanders over to the back of the room and a touch to the stone wall makes it disappear to reveal a terminal full of buttons, levers and holographic screens. One of the screens shows a globe of energy, surrounded by technology.
“That’s the Source?” Jack asks. “I can see energy barriers protecting it. Aren’t they enough to stop this thing?”
“No,” Inerala says gravely. “They slow it down but not for long. For all its glory our empire cannot provide the means to stop a shadow.”
“There’s always a way,” Jack states with a confidence that makes the Doctor smile.
“Right-o!” He claps his hands once, studying the readings on the other screens. “How long until it’s here?”
“An hour, at most,” Inerala answers. Beside the Doctor Jack looks up sharply. Even the Time Lord is a little shocked. “It’ll need more time to get though the barriers but not long enough. The citizens only stay calm because they think we can stop it.”
The Doctor only nods silently, knowing the burden she’s carrying.
“Where did the Source come from?” Jack wants to know. Inerala glances over to the two guards positioned at the door but they’re too far away to hear her words. She still lowers her voice when she answers and the Doctor knows the story they are about to be told is not something the common Dool knows about.
“When I was young I left my planet to seek adventures out in the galaxy,” the old woman says. “I saw many things. The Source I found in the ruins of a dead civilisation, on a planet lost to time.”
“What does that mean, ‘lost to time’?” the Doctor asks.
“It’s gone,” is her vague answer. “I tried to get back there, looking for more treasures, but I never found it again.”
“You were treasure hunting?” Jack smirks. “That doesn’t sound very divine.”
She ignores him.
“It took a while for me to realise what the Source could do. It was able to fuel my ship, but by the time I had returned to Dool I had connected with it on a mental level, and I saw all these possibilities...”
“It’s drawing its energy directly from the vortex!” the Time Lord realises. “It’s like a mobile hole in the fabric of the universe! It gives you insight in things to come, doesn’t it? Not very much because your species doesn’t have the potential for it but you get tiny glimpses. Like when you knew we were harmless.”
“I said you were no danger,” she corrects him. “Harmless is something the two of you definitely are not!”
Jack flashes her a smile. When Inerala continues she wanders away, over to the large window at the western wall and while the Doctor stays by her side Jack is too occupied by playing with the computer to come with them. The feeling of danger that has plagued the Time Lord since their arrival is getting stronger.
“At that time Dool was a small, unimportant world, nearly crushed in the power struggle between Ielanon and Kryk. I knew if I used the Source I could keep my world safe. And I did. When the Kryk came to take over our planet and make it a base for their war our defences were strong, as were our weapons. The Source didn’t only help defend ourselves, it gave us the possibility to expand, have colonies out there, build our own empire.”
“And it has kept you alive for a very long time,” the Doctor adds. “The war between Ielanon and Kryk was a thousand years ago.”
“I have used my life wisely,” she states.
“Did you?” The Time Lord allows a hint of disapproval to get into his voice. “Well, you certainly got up in the world. You have been ruling this world for countless generations, with unlimited power. As their goddess, worshipped by everyone.”
She looks down at him without anger.
“I never asked them to worship me,” she says mildly. “But when people believe in you, turn you into something holy and admirable you have a certain responsibility to them. As I believe you know, Doctor.” Her gaze wanders over to Jack and the Doctor can’t say anything in return. So it is the old woman who continues speaking.
“You think I enjoyed being chained to this planet for centuries, trying to live up to their expectations? A goddess can’t go travelling the universe. They gave me power and in return I had to give them myself. And now I can’t even save them!”
Disappointing people whose belief was unshakeable is something the Doctor has experienced himself often enough. Suddenly he feels sorry for her.
“Good thing we’re here, then,” he says lightly. “Saving worlds is something we’re very, very good at.” The Time Lord turns on the spot and jogs over to Jack and the screens. “Now, let’s see - you have weakened the barriers on several points of the temple. To trick it into taking a certain path instead of going straight through the halls with all the people? Good. Maybe we can use that somehow.”
“Would it be stupid enough to run into a trap?” asks Jack, and Inerala nods.
“If we could create one that actually works. It seems to be controlled by instincts, only gaining intelligence when it takes over a body. And with a physical body it would be impossible for it to pass through the barriers, so it’ll arrive without.”
“It’s somehow merging with the personality of those taken over?”
“No, Jack. It just uses their brains for its own thoughts. The self of its victim is erased.” She sighs deeply. “We do have a weapon that could stop it, but all attempts to use it have lacked success. Brave men and woman have sacrificed themselves, letting their bodies be stolen, but their deaths have been in vain. The Lacarrest is too strong. Everyone facing it dies too fast to do anything.”
“I see,” the Doctor mumbles. It all falls into place so neatly.
“I can’t understand much of these readings,” the human beside him admits. “So what exactly happens when the Lacarrest gets to the Source?”
“It will prolong its life like it prolongs Inerala’s,” the Doctor explains absent-mindedly.
“It will do much more than that,” the Goddess of Dool adds. “All this power, enough to run an empire, will belong to the shadow. It will be able to destroy worlds in minutes, with no one able to stop it, ever. The galaxy will burn.” The desperation in her voice tells the Doctor that she doesn’t really believe they can help her. Best to do something then, give her some hope.
The sense of danger is making him nervous, growing stronger by the second. And suddenly he understands what it is.
Before he can even turn around Jack shouts beside him, his eyes fixed on the holographic screen.
“Doctor! These readings…!” He never gets to finish his sentence but the Doctor can very well guess what he was going to say when something large and dark lowers itself through the ceiling of the room. The computer dies in a rain of sparks as the thing touches it, less than a second after Jack jumped backwards and the Doctor pulled Inerala to safety.
The Time Lord watches it with fascination: It is dark and translucent, the form ever changing. Floating in the air above them. It’s surprisingly large, almost filling the entire room. From the other end of the hall the Doctor hears frightened shouts, coming from the two guards that have been waiting beside the entrance. They are both holding their weapons - an instinctive reaction to a danger they - rationally - know they can’t fight.
“Don’t shoot!” the Doctor calls out to them. “Don’t get its attention!”
But by raising his voice he drew the Lacarrest’s attention to himself. It has no body, no ears to hear nor eyes to see, still the Doctor feels like it is looking at him.
“It will kill us now,” Inarala says with a hopelessness that’s almost irritating. She must long since have accepted that her world cannot be saved. “It always kills those it comes across.”
A touch will be all it needs, the Doctor thinks. Maybe not even that.
No. Touch won’t be necessary. The Doctor can feel the energy building up inside the creature. He slowly pushes himself between the shadow and the old woman, shielding her. And then Jack is in front of the Time Lord, shielding him, and the shadow strikes.
Jack is thrown backwards, against the Doctor, and they land in heap on the floor. With the human a dead weight on top of him the Time Lord struggles to sit up, seeing the two guards running over to them. They can’t fight this enemy but instead of saving themselves they’re trying to get their Goddess away from it. The Doctor has to respect their bravery. Still it would only have gotten them killed, had the Lacarrest not decided that one victim was enough and formed into an arrow to push through the floor, being gone in an instant. A part of the Doctor’s mind wonders how exactly it works, how its touch can be so destructive in some cases and entirely without consequences in other. There is no trace of its intrusion on the ceiling or the floor. The only signs it was ever here are the destroyed computer and Jack’s corpse.
The moment the Doctor is back on his feet he whirls around, grabbing Inerala by the arms - he isn’t quite tall enough to go for her shoulders.
“It’s not too late yet!” he says urgently. “Tell me how to get down to the Source!” But her eyes are fixed on Jack, lying dead and still on the ground, all the life taken from him.
“He’s dead, but not gone,” she states with fascinated bewilderment. Well, at least her connection to the Source is still working then.
“Yeah, impressive, I know.” Right now they have more important things to worry about than the impossibility that is Jack Harkness’ existence. “The Source! How do I get down to it?”
After a second she has the generosity of focusing her attention on him. A glance to the two scared and nervous guards, but now isn’t the time for keeping secrets.
“I’m sorry,” she tells the Doctor as she hurries over to a narrow wooden door leading out of the hall. “This room is protected by strong barriers. We had expected it to take the easiest way, not the shortest.”
“At least it didn’t go visit the fugitives,” the Doctor waves off her apology. “And the barriers will hold it back just long enough, I hope.”
“Long enough for what?”
He grants her a smile.
“For me to save the world,” he says.
The answer is enough for her. She gives him a long look full of sadness and careful hope.
“You’ll really do that, won’t you?” Her searching fingers find a hidden switch just inside the door and in the middle of the hall an opening appears, to a shaft leading downwards. Straight to the Source, the Doctor assumes. In case of emergency.
“Thank you,” Inerala says quietly as he runs over to it. There’s no time to waste now but the Doctor turns back to her anyway, for a second.
“Don’t let anyone follow me!” he orders. “And when Jack comes back remind him of what I told him once. Two hearts. He’ll know.” A second of hesitation before he adds: “And if you have any deeper insight into the things to come keep them to yourself.”
Then he jumps.
-
The shaft goes down vertically, for hundreds and hundreds of metres. When the Doctor jumped in he simply assumed that there would be some kind of anti-gravitation field cushioning his fall. As he nears the ground he is relieved, if not surprised, that his fall indeed slows down until he lands safely on his feet. Splattered across the floor he wouldn’t have been able to save anyone.
Metallic walls greet him, lined with technological stuff he doesn’t have the time to identify. Compared to the upper parts the ceiling here is very low though the Doctor still couldn’t touch it if he tried.
He hurries through the deserted complex, directed by his feelings. This close he can sense both the Lacarrest and the power of Source, the vortex it draws from. The sensations overlap and mingle, making him sick.
The low ceiling soon lifts and he’s in a hall again, this one full of technology and talking of a civilisation in its scientific prime. In the middle of the hall is the Source.
For the power it contains it is ridiculously small - hardly larger than the globes they used back at the academy. Its light is bright but not blinding. The Doctor doesn’t have time to stop and stare.
There are two spheres of energy surrounding the Source, a third one has already collapsed. The shadowy form of the Lacarrest is pressed flat against the outer shield, trying to work its way in. The sphere is large enough to be only partially covered and the Doctor approaches from the other side, taking out his sonic screwdriver. The moment the uses the tool to create an opening the formless shadow tears away from its position and flashes over to the weak spot, but as fast as it is, the Doctor is faster. He closes the rift before it can get through. For a moment he is safe between the two barriers.
The second sphere is much smaller and thus much stronger. Opening it up takes time and all that time the Lacarrest is moving around the outer barrier, like a predator circling its prey. The Doctor concentrates on his work and forces his hearts to calm down.
The thing has killed Jack good and proper, but not much longer now until he’ll come back. And he’s going to be so angry!
That they don’t have time for discussions isn’t the only reason for the Doctor to be glad his friend wasn’t awake when he left.
The inner shield breaks just in time. Turning around so his back is to the Source the Doctor steps into the gab he’s created, blocking it. Around him the other barrier is weakening, falling apart.
Gone.
Instead of rushing to its goal the Lacarrest drifts closer slowly, almost cautiously. Inerala has told them it wouldn’t have the imagination to see a trap and now the Doctor can only hope she was right.
It is a disembodied being, a visible spirit. Driven by instincts in this form. It could kill the Doctor to get him out of the way but it doesn’t, not yet.
“Come on,” the Doctor mumbles. “The shield is open. There is nothing in your way now but me. No need for you to remain in this form.” As he speaks he opens his own mind, reaches out to the shadow. “Listen to your instincts! They tell you to take a corporal form. You’re weak. The Source is close but too abstract a thing to understand in your state. All your instincts tell you to take a body, prolong your existence they way you’re meant to. And this body is strong. It will last. Don’t you feel it?”
His plan is based on the assumption that the Lacarrest only follows a goal it chose when it had a brain to think with, and now tries to reach it without really understanding why. If it has only the slightest awareness of what reaching the Source really means this won’t work and all will be lost.
The power of the Source is calling out to it. The Doctor’s hope is that its natural instincts are stronger.
“Come on!” he says again, his voice firm. “I’m here. I’m waiting for you! I have been waiting for you for years.”
And the Lacarrest draws its form together into a narrow streak and plunges itself into the Doctors body.
Part 2 <-> Part 4
Author:
vail_kagami
Challenge: Myths
Rating: NC-17 overall
Spoilers: Torchwood: Exit Wounds
Warnings: Violence
Summary: There is a legend on a distant planet, telling of a brave hero who once saved the world from a terrible demon.
Note: The next part will probably need more than the usual two days to show up since most of it I haven't written yet.
The TARDIS shakes violently, throwing them to the floor as she tears away from her path and spins blindly through the vortex. To be exact she throws Jack to the floor. The Doctor once again manages to somehow land on the couch that cushions his fall. Jack secretly suspects that the ship only does things like this when her pilot is standing in front of something soft to fall on. If that was true the Doctor could avoid her bad behaviour by never standing near anything comfortable. Jack’ll have to suggest that someday.
Or not. Because keeping the Doctor away from soft surfaces means keeping him away from their beds. And that, Jack decides, just isn’t worth it.
As usual the Doctor is back on his feet first and at the door in an instant. Jack hurries to run after him. There’ll be trouble outside. If the TARDIS throws them around like ice cubes in a glass of lemonade before ending up somewhere they definitely didn’t want to go there’s always trouble.
Stepping outside after the other man Jack has to admit that it doesn’t look like trouble. They’re greeted by a yellow sky dominated by a large red sun. It’s warm, a soft wind is blowing and there even are birds singing nearby. Either that or the people inhabiting this word have a weird way of communicating with each other.
Then again, the people could be birds. Jack can’t tell because he’s never been here before. Every time they make an unplanned stop and Jack doesn’t recognize the place they’ve ended up in a part of him is relieved.
What Jack thought to be a wide field at first turns out to be a large part in the centre of a city. Its seeming wildness isn’t quite as wild as he thought and there are paths running through it. It’s quite idyllic, Jack has to admit. So it’s all the more surprising that they appear to be the only visitors.
“Bit lonely, don’t you think?” the Doctor voices what Jack is thinking. “I wonder where everyone is.”
“Maybe the city’s deserted,” Jack wonders, but there’s no conviction in it. This park has been taken care of until recently. If the place had been abandoned it happened no more than two days before.
The Doctor shakes his head.
“It doesn’t feel deserted,” he says. “But something’s definitely wrong here. Can’t you feel it?”
Jack can’t, knowing it means nothing. He’s used to the Time Lord sensing things closed to him.
The buildings they can see are hundreds of metres high, connected by walkways hanging in the air in a way that defies the laws of statics. A very advanced civilisation then, at least compared to twenty-first century Earth. The Doctor takes the path most likely leading out of the park and Jack follows, keeping his eyes open for any danger.
The Time Lord is wearing his coat, Jack only now notices. He hasn’t worn it inside the TARDIS, must have grabbed it when he ran outside. Jack himself is already feeling a little warm but the Doctor, coming from a planet much cooler than Earth, seems completely unaffected by any kind of weather. It’s nothing new to the human, still things small like this never chase to amaze him.
Being amazed by the Doctor is another thing Jack’s used to, though he’ll never grow tired of it. Most amazing for him is the fact that his fantasies about bedding the Time Lord have become true. It’s been years since the Doctor has first let Jack make love to him but a part of the human is still trying to figure out how he can be so lucky.
Much hasn’t changed between them since that day. Outside Jack’s bedroom their life is the same it has been before. Sex doesn’t happen nearly as often as Jack would like and so far he’s taken his Time Lord only in bed. He’s even refrained from using all the toys he’s stored away in various drawers. Compared to the inventive and at times pretty extreme ways of shagging he’s used to sex with the Doctor is always tame, simple. Jack has never even tried to take it beyond the most basic level for fear of scaring his friend (beloved) away. Despite his age and experience in any other respect the Time Lord is a shy and insecure lover, even after all the time they’ve been doing this. Passive most of the time, but Jack has quickly discovered what a fast learner his Doctor is and what kind of fantastic things he can do with his hands and mouth. He’s started with copying Jack’s actions but soon went beyond that, still looking slightly anxious all the time as if thinking he couldn’t be good enough for someone as experienced as Jack while the human writhes desperately under his touch and tries no to lose his mind.
The last time they made love was one week ago and even then the Doctor seemed nervous and slightly lost. He never really got used to all that physical pleasure Jack can’t imagine living without and every now and then gives the impression of someone desperately trying to hide his fear.
Jack has never been strong enough to think about that too much.
He knows the Doctor worries about disappointing him and nothing Jack could say would make him see how fucking perfect he is. It’s Jack who’s at constant risk of losing this little piece of heaven that’s been granted him by whatever twist of fate. The Doctor doesn’t need sex like he does and he’s constantly afraid of pushing too far, of doing anything wrong. Sometimes the passion takes him away and when his brain starts working again Jack is scared for a moment, trying to recall every minute of the night before to make sure he didn’t hurt the other when his rational mind stopped functioning. No matter how powerful the Time Lord may be, in the dim light of Jack’s bedroom, shivering under his touch, he appears fragile, as if any wrong movement could break him
Every time Jack takes him it is the Doctor who’s really dominating their lovemaking, as this can only go on as long as he allows it to.
Right now he’s walking down the path with long, firm strides, so eager to discover what’s going on here and how he can help. Despite the danger they’re most likely walking into Jack finds himself smiling - the Doctor has no idea how alluring his shy frailty in bed is in comparison to his confident and strong personality used to controlling every situation.
At the edge of the park trees are growing, the leafs blue and purple, the trunks white. The exit is marked by an archway, and on the left side there’s a tall statue of a woman. The arch is made of some sort of metal but the statue is stone. The woman portrayed reminds Jack of a Greek goddess in her long wide grown, except those never had hair this short.
There are cut flowers on the ground in front of her.
Behind the gate a different world greets them: high towers, gleaming metal and three levels of roads, the highest one almost half a mile above the ground. On any normal day these streets should be full of cars and people, the air full of noise. Now they can only hear the birds.
And a low humming that quickly grows louder. Down the straight street, on the ground level, a sleek, silvery vehicle approaches and as it comes closer Jack can see that it is lacking wheels and hovers not quite one metre above the street. The door flies open, or rather disappears from one moment to the next and a man poked his head out.
At least Jack supposes it’s a man. It could be a woman or neither or something else altogether. He’s never met this species before. The person is humanoid and would not look very different from him or the Doctor if it wasn’t for the blue skin and the horns extruding from his head.
“What are you still doing here?” the stranger shouts and from the voice Jack decides it’s safe enough to use the pronoun ‘he’. “It’s dangerous! Quick, come in!” He offers them his hand. The Doctor takes it after exchanging a brief glance with Jack and the man pulls him into the car. Jack follows immediately. The second he’s inside the door comes back and he lands in the seat without any trace of elegance as the vehicle speeds up.
As does the Doctor. He still manages to look cute and sexy while he struggles to get back into a dignified position.
Apart from the guy pulling them in there are two others in the car, and Jack suspects one more, driving it behind the screen sealing off the front part of the vehicle. It could be an automatic car but he’s seen windows from the outside, even if he couldn’t look inside. A computer wouldn’t need those.
The car is large enough to have room for at least four more. The Doctor and Jack are sitting on the broad bench, facing the three others. They are all wearing similar clothes. The light isn’t very good but Jack notices that only two of them are blue-skinned. The last one has violet skin and white hair and is obviously female. She’s also lacking horns.
Neither of them gives them any weird looks, which confirms Jack’s guess that this civilisation has long since mastered space travel and aliens aren’t so unusual a sight here.
“Sorry if it’s a stupid question, but we’ve spend the last year living in a cave,” the Doctor begins. “What exactly is going on here? What are we running away from?”
Now they are giving them funny looks.
“How can you not know?” the woman asks in a surprisingly deep voice.
“We only just arrived on this planet,” Jack explains.
“The warning is getting transmitted within a radius of ten light years.”
“Well, yes, our receiver is kind of broken,” the Doctor says, faking embarrassment. “That’s what we came for. To have it fixed. So what’s wrong?”
“The Lacarrest,” the black haired man that invited them in explains, apparently not seeing the need to go into details.
“And that would be?”
They’re staring again.
“It’s devastated worlds! Surely you have heard of it.”
“Just pretend we’re a bit stupid,” the Doctor grins cheerfully.
Now it’s the other man who speaks. His hair is white like that of the woman and like her he doesn’t have horns. Jack wonders if they’re even all the same species.
“The Lacarrest is an insubstantial shadow that has come to existence on Ielanon. It has slipped into this dimension when they managed to open a gate between the universes. The entire civilisation of Ielanon is gone.”
The Doctor straightens a little.
“Ah,” he says.
“What does it want?” asks Jack.
“What else? Power. To live. It seems it needs a living host to stay in this realm but everyone it takes over withers away within days. So it’s after the Source.”
“The Source?” The Doctor raises his head sharply. “This wouldn’t be Traken, by any chance?” Before anyone can answer he shakes his head to himself. “Of course not. Traken looks completely different. Besides…” He stops for the blink of an eye. “This is quite obviously Dool. And the Source is the Doolian source of power contained in the Temple of Higher Knowledge. The one that’s empowering your empire, fuelling your spaceships and plainly keeping this nice city from crashing down on us.”
There is this moment of silence that often occurs after the Doctor has spoken.
“How do you know that?” the horned man asks, his voice dangerously low.
“Oh, big empire you’re running here. Everyone knows that.” The Doctor notes their expressions and frowns. “Or don’t they?”
Apparently they don’t.
-
The doors disappear again and the two time travellers leave the car to step into a high, bight hall that smells of flowers. Along the walls there are statues. The clothes and hairstyles vary but Jack soon realises that they all show the woman they have already seen in the park. It seems a little strange - worshipping mythical gods is unusual on planets this far advanced.
The three Dool get out behind them and only now that they’re standing does Jack notice that all of them, even the woman, are about a head’s length taller than him and the Doctor. In the proper light he can also see that their clothes aren’t just similar, they’re identical. They’re wearing uniforms.
The Doctor scowls at them. He doesn’t like people in uniforms.
Mostly because they usually carry weapons. Like these three.
“This way, please,” the woman says.
“You’re arresting us?” Jack joins the Doctor in scowling. “What for?”
“For being suspicious,” she says plainly. “You never heard of the Lacarrest yet you know about the Source.”
“I know about nothing,” Jack growls under his breath.
The Doctor glances at him while their new friends escort them through the building.
“The Doolan Empire spreads over a good part of the galaxy known on Earth as Andromeda. It takes its power from a Source not unlike the Eye of Harmony. Well, completely unlike the Eye of Harmony, but it works in a similar way. Makes it very unwise to fight a war against them because the power of their weapons and protective force fields never runs out. Fortunately they’re basically a peace loving race. Unless they think you’re ‘suspicious’,” he adds dryly.
The white haired man is glaring at them, otherwise the Doctor’s words are ignored even though he didn’t bother to speak quietly.
“Maybe not the best place for this discussion,” Jack whispers none the less.
“Oh, they can’t understand us,” the Doctor waves off his concern. “The TARDIS isn’t translating. I’m speaking English right now, and so are you.”
Jack tries to get this in.
“Why isn’t it translating?” he asks, causing the Doctor to look at him blankly.
“So they don’t understand what we’re saying,” he explains as if it was obvious. Jack suspects that it is. “I don’t want her to so she doesn’t.”
The human thinks about this for a moment, then he shrugs.
“Convenient,” he has to admit. “And since we’re aliens anyway they wouldn’t think it weird that we speak another language.” A thought crosses his mind. “Wait, what if they can translate it? Our appearances didn’t surprise them so maybe they have come across humans before and know English.”
“I highly doubt that. Earth won’t have space travel for another several thousand years. The English language doesn’t even exist yet.”
Well. Good thing so many species look generally the same in this universe.
“What does this shadow thing want with the Source then?”
The Doctor shrugs.
“Nothing good, I suppose. We’ll have to ask someone.” Jack guesses that the translation works again when his friend addresses the woman: “Where are you taking us?”
“To Lady Inerala,” he is told. “She will know if you are a danger to the Empire.”
“At least this isn’t Torchwood, where every alien is defined a danger by existing,” the Doctor mumbles. Jack decides not to have heard him.
“Who’s Inerala?” he asks the Doctor, hoping the TARDIS gets that the question is only meant for him. By the disbelieving looks the Dool throw in his direction he suspects it didn’t work.
“The Goddess all these statues show. According to legend she’s the one who brought Dool the Source. I always thought she was just a myth though,” the Doctor answers thoughtfully.
“You think she isn’t?”
The Time Lord flashes him a grin.
“We’ll find out, won’t we?”
“Are we speaking English now?”
“Of course. Would sound silly if we weren’t.”
Jack sighs and shakes his head.
“What if she’s not real? We have to face some insane priests again who pretend to know what the gods are wishing?”
“No idea. Probably. But I’d say this Empire is too far advanced to be ruled by legends.”
“Maybe their spiritual development didn’t keep up with the technological,” Jack suggests. “Well, at least they’re a good looking species.”
Beside him the Doctor rolls his eyes. Jack chuckles and studies the three Dool more intently. Yes, very attractive indeed. Their clothes are a plain light grey that goes along well with the colours of their skin and all of them are fit and good looking.
On their way they have passed a number of other people. A large number, to be exact, and among them Jack spotted a few violet skinned men as well as blue skinned women. So their colour isn’t set by their gender like he originally thought.
“They’re also known for remaining faithful to their chosen ones instead of switching partners all the time,” the Time Lord informs him. “So look somewhere else. You see that identical sign on the back of their hands? It means they’re married.”
“To each other?” Jack looks with renewed interest. “All three of them?”
“A Dool marriage usually consists of three people,” he is told. “One from every gender.”
Jack raises his eyebrows. It’s not the first time he meets a species with more than two genders and they’re usually a lot of fun in bed. Too bad these three are taken then. Especially since sex is a nice way of breaking the ice after someone has pointed a gun at him for any length of time.
That he’s occasionally sleeping with the Doctor doesn’t mean the Time Lord wants him to stay away from other partners. On the contrary - often it seems to Jack like his lover wants him to entertain himself elsewhere, find the hard and creative action the Doctor can’t give him. And Jack does so - but not nearly as often as before. He’s never believed in monogamy but a part of him always feels guilty when he’s sleeping with anyone else. He excuses himself with the thought that he’s merely shagging these people. To the Doctor he’s making love.
That his Doctor would allow anyone else to touch him Jack doesn’t even imagine. The idea would drive him crazy.
“Where are we anyway?” the Time Lord asks their armed guides. “What’s this building? Not the Temple of Higher Knowledge, I suppose?”
“No,” the horned guy answers. Jack wonders what his function is when it comes to reproduction and if his horns have any part in it. “We’re in the Temple of Inerala.”
“Oh, right. Could have thought of that myself. Awfully many people in here, aren’t they?” When there isn’t an immediate answer the Doctor continues: “The city, on the other hand, is empty. Makes me think all the people have been taken here. Why?”
“The city isn’t safe. The Lacarrest is on its way here. The defences of the temple are the strongest.”
The Doctor nods, thoughtfully tapping his lips with his finger.
“But if it gets hold of the Source not even the Temple can save them,” he thinks aloud. “Source… I like that word. It’s so wonderfully vague.”
“Where is that Source anyway?” Jack joins the conversation.
“It’s safe,” is all the answer he gets.
“It’s beneath our feet,” the Doctor explains, probably without translation. “The Temple of Higher Knowledge is beneath the Temple of Inerala, buried in the ground. Even most Dool don’t know that.”
“How come you know it?”
“Oh, I was here before. Didn’t I mention?”
“Must have slipped your mind,” Jack sighs. “When?”
“About fife-teen thousand years from now. The Empire was already falling at that point. Less than a century later it was history.”
“If it lasted that long that would mean the Lacarrest, whatever that may be, didn’t get the Source.” Jack’s realisation is followed by the realisation that there is no guarantee in it. History is in flux. Events can change if the ones supposed to stop disaster from happening fail in their task.
“You said the Source was protecting the Empire, a never ending power supply,” Jack recalls. “Then what defeated it in the end?”
The Doctor shrugs, not looking at him.
“Time,” he says.
-
They don’t have to wait long before the armed men guarding the entrance to the inner temple step aside and let them through. It surprises the Doctor - in times of danger that’s threatening several worlds self-proclaimed gods or their self-proclaimed messengers tend to have little time for people accused of being ‘suspicious’. He doesn’t complain. It’s better than a casual death sentence to get rid of the potential problem.
The three uniformed Dool that have accompanied them until now stay behind at the door. Their places are taken two other guards, in more ceremonial looking uniforms and with masks covering their faces. In here the corridors are less high, less broad. Not meant to contain as many people, and even though some parts of the outer halls are busting with fugitives from the city in there they see no one else.
The privilege of the powerful.
The floor, the walls are made of stone, as if this temple was build in an ancient city and not inside a modern building, so large it is almost a city itself. There are some plants, windows to let in the sunlight, some pictures; not nearly as pompous as it could have been. Their little walk ends at another set of wooden double doors. They lead from the corridor back into a hall, much smaller the one they started in.
A woman in a long wide gown is awaiting them. She gestures for their guards to stay back and they stop and bow but do now leave. The Doctor and Jack step closer - she shows no fear of them or even suspicion and if she was indeed a goddess she wouldn’t have reason to. But she isn’t. She’s just an old woman.
“Lady Inerala, I presume,” the Time Lord greets her with a polite little bow. “I’m the Doctor, this is Jack. We mean you or your planet no harm.”
“I know that.” She speaks with the deep, dark voice that’s typical for females of her kind. Her face is wrinkled, her once dark hair almost completely white and her skin pale with only a hint of blue left. The woman portrayed by the statues was much younger but this is without doubt the same person. In the park he’s thought the statue was more than life-sized for even for a Dool it was very tall, but now the Doctor sees that the statues tell the truth.
Standing in front of her the Doctor can sense her age. She looks old, but not ancient. Yet he can feel the centuries. Dool do not get that old.
Intriguing.
“How so?” he wants to know.
“I know it. That has to be enough for you.” She seems gentle, but she’s definitely not used to being questioned. “What I can not tell is why you have come here. It has something to do with the Lacarrest that might bring death to my people, yet I do not sense any danger coming from you.”
“Yeah, we’re basically harmless. What I would like to know is: what exactly is this Lacarrest, what does it want with your Source and how much time until he reaches it?” The Doctor looks her in the eyes, suddenly serious. “You can’t stop it, can you? You took all the people in but if you had a way of getting rid of it you would have done so before it even reached the city.”
Her answering gaze is a little weary and the Doctor can see the worry and tiredness etched into her old features.
“Why do you want to know that?”
“So I can help,” he says softly.
She looks at him for a second. Then she nods.
“The Lacarrest came here from another dimension sixty years ago. Its powers are frightening but it can’t survive in this dimension for very long. For survival it requires a host body, but the life forms of our universe are too weak to serve it for long. It travels fast between the stars, slower on planets. It kills worlds slowly yet nothing can stop it.” She wanders over to the back of the room and a touch to the stone wall makes it disappear to reveal a terminal full of buttons, levers and holographic screens. One of the screens shows a globe of energy, surrounded by technology.
“That’s the Source?” Jack asks. “I can see energy barriers protecting it. Aren’t they enough to stop this thing?”
“No,” Inerala says gravely. “They slow it down but not for long. For all its glory our empire cannot provide the means to stop a shadow.”
“There’s always a way,” Jack states with a confidence that makes the Doctor smile.
“Right-o!” He claps his hands once, studying the readings on the other screens. “How long until it’s here?”
“An hour, at most,” Inerala answers. Beside the Doctor Jack looks up sharply. Even the Time Lord is a little shocked. “It’ll need more time to get though the barriers but not long enough. The citizens only stay calm because they think we can stop it.”
The Doctor only nods silently, knowing the burden she’s carrying.
“Where did the Source come from?” Jack wants to know. Inerala glances over to the two guards positioned at the door but they’re too far away to hear her words. She still lowers her voice when she answers and the Doctor knows the story they are about to be told is not something the common Dool knows about.
“When I was young I left my planet to seek adventures out in the galaxy,” the old woman says. “I saw many things. The Source I found in the ruins of a dead civilisation, on a planet lost to time.”
“What does that mean, ‘lost to time’?” the Doctor asks.
“It’s gone,” is her vague answer. “I tried to get back there, looking for more treasures, but I never found it again.”
“You were treasure hunting?” Jack smirks. “That doesn’t sound very divine.”
She ignores him.
“It took a while for me to realise what the Source could do. It was able to fuel my ship, but by the time I had returned to Dool I had connected with it on a mental level, and I saw all these possibilities...”
“It’s drawing its energy directly from the vortex!” the Time Lord realises. “It’s like a mobile hole in the fabric of the universe! It gives you insight in things to come, doesn’t it? Not very much because your species doesn’t have the potential for it but you get tiny glimpses. Like when you knew we were harmless.”
“I said you were no danger,” she corrects him. “Harmless is something the two of you definitely are not!”
Jack flashes her a smile. When Inerala continues she wanders away, over to the large window at the western wall and while the Doctor stays by her side Jack is too occupied by playing with the computer to come with them. The feeling of danger that has plagued the Time Lord since their arrival is getting stronger.
“At that time Dool was a small, unimportant world, nearly crushed in the power struggle between Ielanon and Kryk. I knew if I used the Source I could keep my world safe. And I did. When the Kryk came to take over our planet and make it a base for their war our defences were strong, as were our weapons. The Source didn’t only help defend ourselves, it gave us the possibility to expand, have colonies out there, build our own empire.”
“And it has kept you alive for a very long time,” the Doctor adds. “The war between Ielanon and Kryk was a thousand years ago.”
“I have used my life wisely,” she states.
“Did you?” The Time Lord allows a hint of disapproval to get into his voice. “Well, you certainly got up in the world. You have been ruling this world for countless generations, with unlimited power. As their goddess, worshipped by everyone.”
She looks down at him without anger.
“I never asked them to worship me,” she says mildly. “But when people believe in you, turn you into something holy and admirable you have a certain responsibility to them. As I believe you know, Doctor.” Her gaze wanders over to Jack and the Doctor can’t say anything in return. So it is the old woman who continues speaking.
“You think I enjoyed being chained to this planet for centuries, trying to live up to their expectations? A goddess can’t go travelling the universe. They gave me power and in return I had to give them myself. And now I can’t even save them!”
Disappointing people whose belief was unshakeable is something the Doctor has experienced himself often enough. Suddenly he feels sorry for her.
“Good thing we’re here, then,” he says lightly. “Saving worlds is something we’re very, very good at.” The Time Lord turns on the spot and jogs over to Jack and the screens. “Now, let’s see - you have weakened the barriers on several points of the temple. To trick it into taking a certain path instead of going straight through the halls with all the people? Good. Maybe we can use that somehow.”
“Would it be stupid enough to run into a trap?” asks Jack, and Inerala nods.
“If we could create one that actually works. It seems to be controlled by instincts, only gaining intelligence when it takes over a body. And with a physical body it would be impossible for it to pass through the barriers, so it’ll arrive without.”
“It’s somehow merging with the personality of those taken over?”
“No, Jack. It just uses their brains for its own thoughts. The self of its victim is erased.” She sighs deeply. “We do have a weapon that could stop it, but all attempts to use it have lacked success. Brave men and woman have sacrificed themselves, letting their bodies be stolen, but their deaths have been in vain. The Lacarrest is too strong. Everyone facing it dies too fast to do anything.”
“I see,” the Doctor mumbles. It all falls into place so neatly.
“I can’t understand much of these readings,” the human beside him admits. “So what exactly happens when the Lacarrest gets to the Source?”
“It will prolong its life like it prolongs Inerala’s,” the Doctor explains absent-mindedly.
“It will do much more than that,” the Goddess of Dool adds. “All this power, enough to run an empire, will belong to the shadow. It will be able to destroy worlds in minutes, with no one able to stop it, ever. The galaxy will burn.” The desperation in her voice tells the Doctor that she doesn’t really believe they can help her. Best to do something then, give her some hope.
The sense of danger is making him nervous, growing stronger by the second. And suddenly he understands what it is.
Before he can even turn around Jack shouts beside him, his eyes fixed on the holographic screen.
“Doctor! These readings…!” He never gets to finish his sentence but the Doctor can very well guess what he was going to say when something large and dark lowers itself through the ceiling of the room. The computer dies in a rain of sparks as the thing touches it, less than a second after Jack jumped backwards and the Doctor pulled Inerala to safety.
The Time Lord watches it with fascination: It is dark and translucent, the form ever changing. Floating in the air above them. It’s surprisingly large, almost filling the entire room. From the other end of the hall the Doctor hears frightened shouts, coming from the two guards that have been waiting beside the entrance. They are both holding their weapons - an instinctive reaction to a danger they - rationally - know they can’t fight.
“Don’t shoot!” the Doctor calls out to them. “Don’t get its attention!”
But by raising his voice he drew the Lacarrest’s attention to himself. It has no body, no ears to hear nor eyes to see, still the Doctor feels like it is looking at him.
“It will kill us now,” Inarala says with a hopelessness that’s almost irritating. She must long since have accepted that her world cannot be saved. “It always kills those it comes across.”
A touch will be all it needs, the Doctor thinks. Maybe not even that.
No. Touch won’t be necessary. The Doctor can feel the energy building up inside the creature. He slowly pushes himself between the shadow and the old woman, shielding her. And then Jack is in front of the Time Lord, shielding him, and the shadow strikes.
Jack is thrown backwards, against the Doctor, and they land in heap on the floor. With the human a dead weight on top of him the Time Lord struggles to sit up, seeing the two guards running over to them. They can’t fight this enemy but instead of saving themselves they’re trying to get their Goddess away from it. The Doctor has to respect their bravery. Still it would only have gotten them killed, had the Lacarrest not decided that one victim was enough and formed into an arrow to push through the floor, being gone in an instant. A part of the Doctor’s mind wonders how exactly it works, how its touch can be so destructive in some cases and entirely without consequences in other. There is no trace of its intrusion on the ceiling or the floor. The only signs it was ever here are the destroyed computer and Jack’s corpse.
The moment the Doctor is back on his feet he whirls around, grabbing Inerala by the arms - he isn’t quite tall enough to go for her shoulders.
“It’s not too late yet!” he says urgently. “Tell me how to get down to the Source!” But her eyes are fixed on Jack, lying dead and still on the ground, all the life taken from him.
“He’s dead, but not gone,” she states with fascinated bewilderment. Well, at least her connection to the Source is still working then.
“Yeah, impressive, I know.” Right now they have more important things to worry about than the impossibility that is Jack Harkness’ existence. “The Source! How do I get down to it?”
After a second she has the generosity of focusing her attention on him. A glance to the two scared and nervous guards, but now isn’t the time for keeping secrets.
“I’m sorry,” she tells the Doctor as she hurries over to a narrow wooden door leading out of the hall. “This room is protected by strong barriers. We had expected it to take the easiest way, not the shortest.”
“At least it didn’t go visit the fugitives,” the Doctor waves off her apology. “And the barriers will hold it back just long enough, I hope.”
“Long enough for what?”
He grants her a smile.
“For me to save the world,” he says.
The answer is enough for her. She gives him a long look full of sadness and careful hope.
“You’ll really do that, won’t you?” Her searching fingers find a hidden switch just inside the door and in the middle of the hall an opening appears, to a shaft leading downwards. Straight to the Source, the Doctor assumes. In case of emergency.
“Thank you,” Inerala says quietly as he runs over to it. There’s no time to waste now but the Doctor turns back to her anyway, for a second.
“Don’t let anyone follow me!” he orders. “And when Jack comes back remind him of what I told him once. Two hearts. He’ll know.” A second of hesitation before he adds: “And if you have any deeper insight into the things to come keep them to yourself.”
Then he jumps.
-
The shaft goes down vertically, for hundreds and hundreds of metres. When the Doctor jumped in he simply assumed that there would be some kind of anti-gravitation field cushioning his fall. As he nears the ground he is relieved, if not surprised, that his fall indeed slows down until he lands safely on his feet. Splattered across the floor he wouldn’t have been able to save anyone.
Metallic walls greet him, lined with technological stuff he doesn’t have the time to identify. Compared to the upper parts the ceiling here is very low though the Doctor still couldn’t touch it if he tried.
He hurries through the deserted complex, directed by his feelings. This close he can sense both the Lacarrest and the power of Source, the vortex it draws from. The sensations overlap and mingle, making him sick.
The low ceiling soon lifts and he’s in a hall again, this one full of technology and talking of a civilisation in its scientific prime. In the middle of the hall is the Source.
For the power it contains it is ridiculously small - hardly larger than the globes they used back at the academy. Its light is bright but not blinding. The Doctor doesn’t have time to stop and stare.
There are two spheres of energy surrounding the Source, a third one has already collapsed. The shadowy form of the Lacarrest is pressed flat against the outer shield, trying to work its way in. The sphere is large enough to be only partially covered and the Doctor approaches from the other side, taking out his sonic screwdriver. The moment the uses the tool to create an opening the formless shadow tears away from its position and flashes over to the weak spot, but as fast as it is, the Doctor is faster. He closes the rift before it can get through. For a moment he is safe between the two barriers.
The second sphere is much smaller and thus much stronger. Opening it up takes time and all that time the Lacarrest is moving around the outer barrier, like a predator circling its prey. The Doctor concentrates on his work and forces his hearts to calm down.
The thing has killed Jack good and proper, but not much longer now until he’ll come back. And he’s going to be so angry!
That they don’t have time for discussions isn’t the only reason for the Doctor to be glad his friend wasn’t awake when he left.
The inner shield breaks just in time. Turning around so his back is to the Source the Doctor steps into the gab he’s created, blocking it. Around him the other barrier is weakening, falling apart.
Gone.
Instead of rushing to its goal the Lacarrest drifts closer slowly, almost cautiously. Inerala has told them it wouldn’t have the imagination to see a trap and now the Doctor can only hope she was right.
It is a disembodied being, a visible spirit. Driven by instincts in this form. It could kill the Doctor to get him out of the way but it doesn’t, not yet.
“Come on,” the Doctor mumbles. “The shield is open. There is nothing in your way now but me. No need for you to remain in this form.” As he speaks he opens his own mind, reaches out to the shadow. “Listen to your instincts! They tell you to take a corporal form. You’re weak. The Source is close but too abstract a thing to understand in your state. All your instincts tell you to take a body, prolong your existence they way you’re meant to. And this body is strong. It will last. Don’t you feel it?”
His plan is based on the assumption that the Lacarrest only follows a goal it chose when it had a brain to think with, and now tries to reach it without really understanding why. If it has only the slightest awareness of what reaching the Source really means this won’t work and all will be lost.
The power of the Source is calling out to it. The Doctor’s hope is that its natural instincts are stronger.
“Come on!” he says again, his voice firm. “I’m here. I’m waiting for you! I have been waiting for you for years.”
And the Lacarrest draws its form together into a narrow streak and plunges itself into the Doctors body.
Part 2 <-> Part 4