Chapter Eighty-Five: The Doctor's Daughter

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TW// Guns, death

It isn't long before we are brought to a halt again, now in unfamiliar territory, far from the base. "Wait!" the Doctor calls, examining the map through his glasses. "This is it, the hidden tunnel. There must be a control panel."

I join him by the wall, banging on it and shifting the low-hanging cables in search of any kind of entry. I am only half-aware of Donna's footsteps until she calls out to us from a little further along. "It's another one of those numbers. They're everywhere."

The Doctor doesn't look up from his sonic, giving an off-hand comment, "The original builders must've left them. Some old cataloguing system."

"You got a pen, bit of paper?" He sticks the sonic between his teeth for safekeeping and looks through his coat again. Rolling my eyes at his bizarre expression, I take the device from his mouth and wipe it off on my trousers with a grimace before resuming the scans myself. "'Cause, d'you see, the numbers are counting down. This one ends in '1-4', the prison cell said '1-6'."

"Always thinking, all of you. Who are you people?" Jenny huffs.

"I told you, I'm the Doctor."

She turns her sharp gaze on him as he takes over the manual search for a doorway. "'The Doctor'? That's it?"

Donna shrugs, still gazing up at the numbers and noting them down. "That's all he ever says."

"So you don't have a name either. Are you an anomaly, too?"

The whirring of the sonic pauses for just a second. I look to him and notice his brief wince. "No."

Our friend scoffs, "Oh, come off it! You're the most anomalous bloke I've ever met."

I prepare myself to deflect any more of Jenny's questions but a plank of wood clatters off of the wall. "Here it is!" the Doctor cheers, stepping back to reveal a small handle on the stone wall beneath.

"And Time Lords, what are they for exactly?"

"'For'? They're not— They're not 'for' anything."

He takes the sonic back and tries to open the door up. Jenny doesn't take it as a sign to give up, resting her hands on her hips — another mannerism I am well-accustomed to. "So what do you do?"

"I travel through time and space."

"He saves planets, rescues civilisations, defeats terrible creatures." The girl's eyes brighten with each new description Donna gives. "And runs a lot," she adds. "Seriously, there's an outrageous amount of running involved."

A loud grating noise echoes throughout the tunnel as the door slides open. "Got it!" The Doctor falters at the sound of Cobb's shouts in the distance. "Now, what were you saying about running?"

I wait until he is already ahead before grabbing the fallen guard's gun. We make it to another turning. Then we stop.

Before us lies an open corridor. The air is laced with strings of red light, all darting off in different angles to create an impassable net. "That's not mood lighting, is it?"

The Doctor responds to Donna's hopeful question by taking out the wind-up mouse and throwing it. The second it hits one of the lasers, it falls into smoking pieces.

"No," she groans, "I didn't think so."

"Arming device."

He rushes to the control box at our side. Jenny and I are quick to offer our help but Donna passes once more, distracted by yet another plaque on the wall. "There's more of these. Always eight numbers, counting down, the closer we get."

Distant voices carry down the tunnels. "The General!"

Jenny makes a run for it, back in the direction we came from, but he hastily catches her arm. "Where are you going?"

"I can hold them up."

"No, we don't need any more dead."

She clenches her jaw, trying to shake herself free. "But it's them or us."

"It doesn't mean you have to kill them," he pleads.

"But I'm trying to save your life!"

This time, when she tries to go, he takes her by the shoulders. His desperation is chilling. "Listen to me, the killing... after a while, it infects you. And once it does, you're never rid of it."

Her determination falters a little. "B-But we don't have a choice."

"We always have a choice."

She blinks. Her eyes gloss over for a second. "I'm sorry," she gasps, turning on her heel and running back the way we came.

"Jenny—"

I rest a hand on his shoulder, hoping to offer some comfort. With an apologetic nod of my head, I grab the gun that I have brought with me. "Keep working on those lasers. I'll cover her."

He offers no response. There's no use in waiting for one.

By the time I round the corner, the fighting has already broken out. Dragging Jenny out from the open and behind the wall, I lean out to deliver a few carefully-aimed shots. The soldiers duck back behind barrels. "What are you doing?" I hear her yell over the chaos.

"Making sure you don't kill anyone. That's a job for us grown-ups."

With a glare my way, she shoots a few more bullets into the shadowy tunnel. "How many times? I am not a child!"

I shrug. "Maybe, maybe not. But you came from him... so here I am."

The next time I pull the trigger, nothing comes. A loud curse passes my lips and I hide around the corner again. Jenny joins me. She frowns, staring at the weapon in her hands.

"Jenny, Inara!" we hear a shout from behind us.

"Are you all right?" I ask. When she doesn't respond, I gently grab her shoulder. Our eyes meet. My heart skips a beat, startled by just how much of him I see in her. My hand moves to her pale cheek and I swear her rapid breathing slows a little. "You're all right. Give me the gun and go back to your— go back to the Doctor. I'll take care of this."

She hesitates, staring at me in utter bewilderment. "But—"

"Go, Jenny."

Just as it seems like she might, she takes a firm hold of my wrist and pulls me with her. "Not without you. Come on!"

So I join her, running towards the Doctor's shouts. By the time I realise she isn't with me anymore, I'm already most of the way across the corridor, now unobstructed by lasers. Cobb's voice comes again, "You're a child of the machine. Join us! Join us in the war against the Hath! It's in your blood, girl, don't deny it."

Another gunshot echoes, and a hiss of depressurised air. She must have hit one of the tubes on the ceiling in order to escape. She appears at the end of the corridor, sprinting towards us. She manages to stop herself just before the lasers come back online. There is no way to cross them and return to us.

"No, no, no, no! The circuit's looped back!"

"Zap it back again!" Donna screeches.

"The controls are back there."

Gunfire can be heard again. The girl glances fearfully over her shoulder. "They're coming."

"Wait!" The Doctor looks around. He scours our surroundings for anything to help us. His voice catches in his throat. "There isn't— Jenny, I can't!"

"I'll have to manage on my own." Tossing the gun aside, she takes a few steps away from the beams. "Watch and learn, Father!"

My panicked warning doesn't make it into words. I watch, stunned, as the girl traverses the tangle of lasers in a series of handsprings and somersaults. She lands in front of us, breathless and grinning from ear to ear.

"No way," Donna gasps. "That was impossible!"

"Not impossible. Just a bit unlikely." In an instant, the Doctor has her in his embrace, swinging her around in a circle. "You were brilliant! Brilliant!"

"I didn't kill him. I could've killed him, but I didn't. You were right, I had a choice."

The pride on his face is bright enough to bring out my own smile. I quickly usher her and Donna around the next corner, hesitating when I see that the Doctor hasn't moved. He glares across the field of lasers to the soldiers. "I warned you, Cobb. If the Source is a weapon, I'm gonna make sure you never use it."

"One of us is gonna die today and it won't be me."

"So, what should I call you?"

Walking alongside Jenny, I frown at her question. "What do you mean?"

She turns up her bottom lip in an innocent reply and nods to where the Doctor walks ahead of us. "Well, you're with him, aren't you? It's pretty obvious."

Thankfully, he seems oblivious to the conversation. Donna raises her eyebrows in signal for me to answer honestly. "I— I mean... I suppose I am."

"Exactly. So what do I call you? 'Mum'?"

The entire corridor goes silent. Slowly looking back over to the Doctor, I catch his intent gaze over his shoulder. Whatever he is thinking is unclear, although I wonder if I can detect a glimmer of hope in his eyes. I clear my throat. "Call me whatever you're comfortable with... but 'Inara' is fine at the moment."

She seems a little disappointed but does her best not to show it. "Oh. All right." We walk a little further before she looks to me again. "How long have you been together?"

I start to fidget with the ring on my finger, twisting it round and round. "Well, let's just say we were both very different when we met."

It's clear that I won't get away with just that.

Taking a deep breath, I continue, "I was in London in 1941, running a con with my best friend. Just went to this jazz bar for a drink but then this strange bloke wandered right onto the stage and asked if anyone had seen something fall from the sky recently."

My quiet laughter doesn't last long, as I find her staring at me in confusion. Of course. 1941 won't mean enough to her for the joke to make sense.

I suppress my smile. "Well... I followed him out when the air raid alarm sounded, knew he was looking for an old ambulance ship we'd sent out for the con. Things got a bit complicated. After that, I just sort of... stayed. We had friends with us, too, people who travelled with us. When we met, he was with Rose... then we lost her. Martha joined after a brief run-in with that one—" I direct a teasing glare over in Donna's direction "—and then she came in full-time. It's been a good life." My gaze flickers back over to the Doctor. A faint smile pulls at his lips, visible only because he has his head tilted slightly in our direction as he walks, to hear the story. "Complicated, but good."

She chuckles. "Sounds it. Something to tell the grandkids."

"Would be if they just hurried up," Donna chimes in with a playful nudge directed into my side. "Honestly, slowest relationship I've ever seen in my life! Mind you, what with that thing you mentioned the other night, Inara, maybe we can expect a development some time soon?"

I come to a stop, my body rigid with shock. It takes a moment to steel myself before I dismiss it and continue walking. "You were drunk. And I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you."

Clearly aware of the tension, Jenny interjects, "So, Donna! What's it like, travelling?"

"Never a dull moment. Can be terrifying, brilliant and funny — sometimes all at the same time. I've seen some amazing things, though. Whole new worlds."

Even with my frustration, the dreamy look on Jenny's face makes me smile. "I'd love to see new worlds."

"You will! Won't she, Doctor?" He hums, pretending not to have heard. Donna huffs impatiently, overenunciating her next question, "Do you think Jenny'll see any new worlds?"

"I suppose so."

The girl's eyes go as wide as saucers. "You mean, you'll take me with you?"

"Well, we can't leave you here, can we?"

With a squeal of excitement, she throws her arms around him. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! Come on, let's get a move on!"

He smiles, watching after her as she runs off ahead. "Careful, there might be traps!"

"Kids! They never listen," Donna teases. But when she looks to him, she sees the new weight in his eyes, the crease between his brows. Concern and fear and guilt. "Oh, I know that look. See it a lot round our way, blokes with pushchairs and frowns. You've got dad-shock."

"'Dad-shock'?" he incredulously repeats.

She nods matter-of-factly. "Sudden, unexpected fatherhood. Takes a bit of getting used to."

He looks back to the corridor, to where Jenny confidently leads the way. "No, it's not that."

"Well, what is it, then? Having Jenny in the Tardis, is that it? What's she gonna do, cramp your style? Like you've got a sports car and she'll turn it into a people-carrier?"

Not in the mood for joking anymore, he tenses his shoulders, hands finding his pockets. I bow my head and prepare for his next words. "Donna, I've been a father before."

She stops. "What?"

"I lost all that a long time ago. Along with everything else."

"I'm sorry... I didn't know." Her eyes dart back to me, realisation hitting. But instead of the irritation I half-expect over my knowledge of this truth, she only seems sad. "Why didn't you tell me? You talk all the time, but you don't say anything."

"I know. I'm just..." Seeing him stop, I silently offer my hand out. He takes it, never moving his attention from the girl. "When I look at her now, I can see them — the hole they left, all the pain that filled it. I just don't know if I can face that every day."

She lowers her head for a moment. "It won't stay like that," she gently chides. "She'll help you."

"But when they died, that part of me died with them. It'll never come back. Not now."

I give his hand a squeeze. Shuffling closer, my head rests on his shoulder. There are no words I can offer, I already know that.

"I'll tell you something, Doctor... something I've never told you before. I think you're wrong."

His mouth opens to retort but a burst of gunfire breaks the silence. Jenny comes pelting around the corridor, wild with excitement. "They've blasted through the beams. Time to run again! Love the running! Yeah?"

Pride quickly shines through again. He smiles. "Love the running."

The next corner we sprint around brings us to a dead end. The wall in front of us is made of solid, red metal. "We're trapped!"

"Can't be. This must be the temple." The Doctor pushes against the wall, feeling its cold surface. "This is a door."

Once again, Donna's attention is drawn to a plaque above us. "And again! We're down to '1-2' now."

With a bit of meddling with the sonic, the control panel sparks. "Got it!"

"They're coming!" Jenny warns.

"These can't be a cataloguing system."

"They're getting closer!"

"Then get back here!"

The redhead shakes her head. "They're too similar. Too familiar."

"Not yet."

"Now! Got it!"

Piling in, the door shuts behind us. "That was close," Jenny laughs, breathless from the thrill of the chase.

"No fun otherwise."

We make our way further into the room, finding nothing but pipes and engines lining the walls of this great, square hall. "Not much of a temple. It looks more like..."

"Fusion-drive transport. It's a spaceship."

Startled, Donna looks up at the Doctor. "The original one? The one the first colonists arrived in?"

He scrunches up his nose. "Could be, but the power cells would have run down after all that time. This one's still powered-up and functioning. Come on."

We follow him up a flight of stairs and onto a second level of engines. Another red door lies several metres away, a line of bright sparks steadily cutting an entrance in it. "It's the Hath! That door's not gonna last much longer. If General Cobb gets through down there, war's gonna break out."

Turning, something catches my eye. I call the others over to a computer, pressing random buttons until the screen lights up. "It's a ship's log."

The Doctor peers at it over my shoulder and reads aloud, "'First wave of Human-Hath co-colonisation of Messaline'."

"So it is the original ship!"

"What happened?"

"'Phase one: Construction'. They used robot drones to build the city."

Quickly growing impatient, Donna glances up at the door. "But, does it mention the war?"

He leans closer. "Final entry: 'Mission commander dead. Still no agreement on who should assume leadership. Hath and humans divided into factions'. That must be it! A power vacuum. The crew divided into two factions and turned on each other. Start using progenation machines, and you've got two armies fighting a never-ending war."

"Two armies who are now both outside," Jenny points out.

"Look at that."

We follow Donna's pointing finger to another computer fixed onto the wall. Above it, an electronic sign reads: 60120724.

"It's like the numbers in the tunnels."

She wags the finger, taking out her notepad and pen again. "No, no, no. But listen, I spent six months working as a temp in Hounslow Library and I mastered the Dewey Decimal System in two days flat. I'm good with numbers! It's staring us in the face."

"What is?"

Turning, she grins back at us in triumph. "It's the date."

Immediately, the Doctor and I start towards the screen. "Oh my Gods, of course."

"Assuming the first two numbers are some big old space date, then you've got year, month, day. It's the other way round, like it is in America."

He cries out, slapping his forehead. "It's the New Byzantine Calendar!"

"The codes are completion dates for each section. They finish it, they stamp the date on. So the numbers aren't counting down, they're going out, from here, day by day, as the city got built."

We share a glance. Beaming, I ruffle her hair and he exclaims, "Yes! Oh, good work, Donna!"

Our celebration is cut short as she bats us away, prodding him with her pen. "Yeah, but you're still not getting it. The first number I saw back there was 6012-07-17." I frown. She redirects us to the screen and insists, "Well, look at the date today."

"'07-24'," I read. "Wait..."

"No!"

Behind us, Jenny seems to remain unaware, gaping at the three of us as if we've lost our minds. "What does it mean?"

"Seven days," the Doctor says in reply.

"That's it," Donna confirms. "Seven days!"

"Just seven days?"

"What d'you mean, seven days?"

The Doctor looks to his daughter and finally answers, "Seven days since war broke out."

Donna nods. "This war started seven days ago. Just a week. A week!"

She stammers. Her realisation bears a far more personal kind of shock. "They said years," she breathes.

"No. They said generations. And if they're all like you, products of those machines—"

"They could have twenty generations in a day," the Doctor slowly concludes, piecing it all together in his head.

I fail to stifle a disbelieving laugh. "So this is a legend, a saga. They die, they tell their progenations, it goes on and on, gets warped through word of mouth."

"Donna, you're a genius!"

Still, Jenny is having a hard time coming to terms with it. "All the buildings, they're in ruins."

"They're not ruined, they're just empty. Waiting to be populated. Oh, they've mythologised their entire history. The Source must be part of that, too. Come on!"

Heading up yet another flight of stairs, we almost run into Martha. She is soaked, covered in a pungent slime. Her eyes are bloodshot from crying. "Doctor?"

"Martha!" he cheers, racing to hug her. "I should've known you wouldn't stay away from the excitement."

She rushes to greet the rest of us but Donna holds her at arms length. "You're filthy. What happened?"

"I, um... took the surface route."

Gunfire rattles several floors below us. "That's the General. We haven't much time."

"We don't even know what we're looking for."

Martha hesitates, sniffing loudly. "Is it me, or can you smell flowers?"

I frown, inhaling cautiously. The Doctor does the same. "Yes. Bougainvillea. I say we follow our

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