TW// Car accident, drowning

—

"Managed to find that last... file." Pausing in the doorway to the medical room, I frown. "Where's Donna?"

Martha looks up from a folder, sat on the resident nurse's desk — of whom there seems to be nobody employed for the task. She forces a smile, beckoning me in. I hand the file over to her. "Thanks," she mumbles, flicking through it almost absentmindedly. "She's gone to visit her family."

I can't help but chuckle at that, taking a seat beside her. "Warned her about us?" I joke.

"Not exactly 'warned'... but yeah."

"Don't blame you. Maybe we should throw together a disclaimer for anyone wanting to travel with us — 'Warning: prepare for mortal danger. Hope you've got your will written up!'"

"Not such a bad idea." An awkward moment passes before she adds, "The Doctor's gone, too."

"Has he?" I ask with feigned disinterest in an answer. I can feel her watching me now.

She nods. "Went off to speak to the guy who designed ATMOS; Rattigan's the name, Luke Rattigan. Some kid genius, got a boarding school outside Surrey for other gifted teens."

"Sounds riveting."

Noting the sarcasm in my tone, she digs her elbow into my side. "Okay, what's up with you? You've been like this since you arrived, acting all closed off, making all these swipes at the Doctor. Did he do something?"

This time, I answer with more truth than I planned to, my voice softening, "Of course not." My next breath is a little shaky, guilt weighing in the pit of my stomach. I am not angry with him, I feel nothing bad towards him, but time seems to stretch out when I'm around him, my patience wearing thin. It isn't getting any better. Regret over my promise to him that I would not use the Coin is getting too hard to bear.

Strangely, she seems to understand something in my reply and asks nothing further, simply regarding me with one last concerned glance.

Before either of us can speak again, there is a knock on the doorframe. A UNIT soldier enters, escorting one of the workers with him. The worker is pale, with blonde hair cut down to the scalp and blue eyes that pierce into the space before him, intense and yet unseeing. He sits on the chair before us.

I move to the corner of the room to give Martha more space. She consults the file in her lap. "And your name's Treppa, yeah? Is that Polish? Listen, we're not checking passports, it's not about that... but did you come from Poland just to work?"

He stares ahead at her, unblinking. "I came to do my job." His voice is monotonous, a light accent cutting his vowels short.

"Okay. I need to listen to your heartbeat. This might be a bit cold. Lift."

He lifts his shirt. She rests her stethoscope against his chest but it isn't long before her brows furrow and she pulls away, checking once more before asking, "Are you on any medication?"

"I'm here to work." Again, there is no shift in tone, no emotion. He is blank. He hasn't even lowered his shirt and instead sits there without so much as a twitch.

"How many hours a day do you work?"

"Twenty-four."

I straighten up, startled. "Did he just say 'twenty-four'?"

She doesn't seem to believe, taking it for a joke. "You work twenty-four hours a day?" Only just realising that his shirt is still lifted, she gestures for him to drop it. "Down. Mr Treppa, have you ever had any form of hypnosis?"

"I'm here to work."

"Okay." Wetting her lips, she stands, never taking her eyes off him. She motions behind her back for me to follow her, crooking a finger. "If you could just wait here."

We make it outside, far enough for him not to be able to overhear us before we stop. I look around for any eavesdroppers and whisper, "So that's definitely not normal, right?"

Still unsettled, she swallows and glances around once more. "Definitely not."

"Maybe we can run some blood tests or DNA samples. Best course of action might just be to determine whether or not they're even human, then we can figure out the rest later," I cautiously suggest.

"Maybe. But what if they aren't? Or if they're, like, telepathically connected or monitored or something? We might accidentally catch the attention of whoever's doing this."

I can't argue with that. Kissing my teeth in uncertainty, I hug myself. Something about this entire situation is incredibly unnerving. My whole body feels on edge, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. "Well, we've got to do something."

"Why don't you take a look around, see if there are any more files. Then see about setting up some blood tests."

She only manages to walk so far before I call after her, "Hang on. Where are you going?"

"To speak to Colonel Mace. As annoying as it is, we can't just freelance this like we used to. Gotta go through the proper channels."

I chuckle. "Gods, I remember that very well. All those 'sir's and 'ma'am's and chains of command. Don't think I'll miss them any time soon. Good luck."

"You too. I'll meet you back here in, say, an hour?"

"Got it."

—

When I return to the nurse's office, Martha is not there. I wait and wait, but still, she does not appear.

Something is wrong, I can feel it in my gut — a twisting feeling, a nudge to alert me.

Eventually, I can wait no longer. Rising from the desk, I make my way off in the direction of Colonel Mace's temporary office. A familiar voice stops me. "Code Red. Gotcha."

"Martha?" I call, rounding the corner to find her flanked by two armed UNIT officers.

She comes to a sudden stop upon hearing me, her eyes scanning over me. "Inara," she replies.

Realising that she doesn't intend to say anything else, I huff impatiently and give an exaggerated shrug. "Well? Where were you? I've been waiting. And did you just say 'Code Red'?"

The mention seems to wake something in her blank expression, a sudden urgency coming over her. "Yes, that was the Doctor. He's at Rattigan Academy still, says he's found something big. Wouldn't say what, just that it's a Code Red."

"Well, you should have bloody lead with that, then!" I snap. Anxiety takes over in an instant, freezing me rigid as I wait for her to follow. "Aren't you coming?"

She glances reluctantly at the two soldiers. "I've got responsibilities to attend to here. Why don't you go? Here, take my car."

I catch the keys she tosses to me and, throwing a shouted 'Thanks!' over my shoulder, run for the factory exit.

——————

"In two hundred yards, please turn right."

I glare at the sat-nav mounted to the dashboard and mutter, "Oh, you can shut up." I'm not even sure why UNIT still uses ATMOS, considering the ongoing investigation. However, I still follow its instructions and turn right.

My eyes remain on the road as I turn up the radio. It plays forties' jazz, the kind that Jack and I used to dance to all the way through the night during our long-con in London. The memory brings a warmth that I haven't felt in some time. My fingers drum against the steering wheel and I begin to hum along as a new song starts to play.

It is the song that the Doctor and I danced to so long ago. We had only met that evening and spent the night fleeing gas-masked zombies and saving a little boy presumed dead. And right at the end, he took my hand, a stranger, and danced with me.

He had a different face back then. An older face. With the grin of a boy and eyes like a stormy sea. He had ears that stuck out a little, freckles and lines on his face — I see those lines more and more each time I see my own reflection. I'm getting older. It will be a slow process but I have started to wonder, truly, if he will stay with me a decade or two from now. Or if he he leave before he can see me die like everyone else.

Time is cruel. Mortality is even crueller. Both will get me one way or another. Until then, I turn up the radio a little more and press down on the accelerator.

I take another turn and bring the car to a screeching halt. The sat-nav has brought me to the bank of the Thames. Before me is a gradual slope, leading down a few metres into the murky water.

Frowning, I lean forward and give the side of the device a slap. "What's the matter with you?"

"You have reached your final destination," it politely announces.

"Yeah, but I haven't, have I? Does this look like godsdamn Rattigan Academy to you?" Giving it another harsh shake, I slump back into my seat. "Talking to a bloody sat-nav. Must be something wrong with me." I take a moment to regain my composure before sighing, "All right, let's get this turned around. Can't be far."

But when I change gear and turn in my seat to see the dirt track behind me, I find that the car does not reverse. Instead, it rolls forward. Towards the river.

Confusion keeps me still, frozen like a statue, as I try to understand why the car is still moving when my feet are off the pedals. "What in the name of Tartarus is going on? What are you doing, you stupid car?"

"You have reached your final destination."

I try to reverse once more but the accelerator pedal is suddenly stamped down by an invisible force. The car lurches towards the river again. Already, I can hear the sloshing of water against the wheels. "Stop it!" I screech. "What are you doing? Stop!"

But it drives straight in. The vehicle is far from buoyant. In a matter of seconds, I can feel it starting to sink. The line of the river's surface creeps higher and higher up the windows, slipping up the windshield.

Practically tearing off my seatbelt, I try to roll down the windows. They don't budge. The power has already been drained. Next, I start to beat my fists against the glass in the hopes of breaking it. Instead of the sound of shattering glass, though, I hear the creaking of metal and an ominous trickling. A glance towards my feet shows me the growing danger I am in, as a pool has started to form on the floor of the car. It is almost at my knees already.

I yank the glove compartment on the passenger's side open. A book of road maps and a file fall out. Right at the back, with a great deal of reaching and cursing, my fingers close around the plastic handle of a safety hammer. It is thin, like a bottle opener, with a pointed chunk of metal stuck to its head.

I waste no time in hitting it against the window. A small spider's web forms under its impact. The water has reached my shoulders. I try again and again. It isn't long until the glass has been damaged enough for me to drive my elbow against the centre of the cracks. They break away and I am hit by a rush of water. It pours in faster than I had expected. I barely have a chance to draw in a gulp of air before the whole of the car, inside and out, is submerged.

It takes a bit of awkward manoeuvring to get myself through the small opening. My feet kick off from the roof of the car, propelling me up to the surface. Cold air hits my face and I gasp. It isn't far to the bank, close enough for me to swim before the last pull of the sinking vehicle's current can drag me back under.

Crawling up the bank, sodden and yelling curses at the long-gone sat-nav, I make my way back up towards the road. I must stand there for at least another ten minutes, looking utterly miserable in my sodden clothes, before the next car comes along. It pulls over at the sight of my stuck-out thumb and severe shivering. My hands grasp onto the support of the rolled-down window and I lean down to meet the kind, bewildered stare of a woman. "Gone for a swim, have we?" she nervously teases.

"Yeah. My car got sort of... sunk. I need an urgent lift to Rattigan Academy, can you give me a lift? I'm with the Unified Intelligence Taskforce."

"Well, then, you'd better get in. Grab a blanket from the back seat while you're at it, love."

——————

By the time the car pulls up in the gravel drive of Rattigan Academy's stately manor, I am starting to dry out a little more. A group of teenagers in red joggers and hoodies run around on the front lawn, others testing science projects away from the fragility of the house. I thank the woman and head over to the boy waiting for me on the front steps. He can't be any older than eighteen, with straight, black hair and dark eyes that bore right into me with in suspicion.

"I saw you driving up the hill," he says matter-of-factly, his accent recognisably American. "What do you want?"

"I'm looking for someone — Dr John Smith. Ring a bell?"

His eyes narrow. "He left ages ago. Why?"

Hesitating, I scrutinise the look on his face. He's telling the truth. I can come to that problem later. For now, I let my lips curl into an amused smile. "My, you are very straightforward, aren't you?"

"I like to know what's going on."

I ignore my unease and offer my hand for him to shake. He eyes it and then my damp clothes, making no move to accept. I sigh, "So do I. That's why I'm here, to find out — don't you just hate not knowing something? Inara, by the way. Inara Luscinia. And you must be Luke Rattigan."

"That still doesn't explain what you're doing here."

His attitude is getting harder and harder to find funny. "As I said, I heard there was a spot of trouble up here. I'm sorry if my friend gave you a hard time, he's not from around these parts. Neither am I. We're both a bit... alien." Just as I had hoped, his expression brightens at my words. "Now," I conclude with a gesture towards the double doors, "aren't you going to show me around?"

He seems all too willing now. As I follow him inside, I think over what Martha had said: 'Code Red'. Surely she wouldn't send me out here on a wild goose chase. And how could the sat-nav have known to kill me? It makes no sense. The most obvious conclusion nags in the back of my mind but I do my best to ignore it.

"This is our science lab. So, when you say 'alien' do you mean actual alien? Like, different-planet-alien? You look human."

"Yeah, well, you look Capitian." The boy's excitement is already becoming a little too off-putting. Smiling politely, I trace a hand along the length of the work benches, pausing to examine a large terrarium overlooked by UV-lamps, then to a clamp stand which seems to be holding a sheet of fabric so thin that I can almost see through it. "You know," I say, "I don't think I've seen this kind of technology anywhen before the twenty-second century, at the earliest."

He stands straight, hands clasped behind his back, and practically glows with pride. "What can I say? I'm a genius."

My lips purse. "Well, you're quite clever. Certainly a prodigy. I'll admit, though, I've never met a true genius. Book smarts tend to outweigh common sense in a lot of people. So, tell me, Luke... how exactly are you getting to your new planet?"

I hear him stammer a little before he replies, "I— I don't understand."

"You're making biospheres and simulating gravity. Bit of a weird combination of projects, really. Safe to assume you're planning on relocating." Edging closer to him, I manage to slip the phone out of his back pocket without him noticing. I hide it up my sleeve.

Luke scowls, irritated that he has been so easily predicted. With nothing to retort with, he snaps, "Yeah, well, y-your friend already figured that one out, so well done."

"Great minds think alike. Where's the bathroom?"

Taking his vague directions, I sneak into an alcove instead and take out the phone, dialling Donna's number. "Come on," I whisper under my breath, "pick up, Donna. Pick up."

The static buzz stops. "Hello?"

"Donna! Is the Doctor with you?"

"Inara? Yeah, he's here. Why are you whispering? What—"

Rolling my eyes, I cut her off. "I'm at Rattigan Academy. I need you to come here. I think Martha's—"

The phone is snatched out of my hand. I curse under my breath and meet Luke's glare with a sheepish smile. "Hi."

"Who are you, really?"

Eyeing the phone, I shrug. "I told you already. I'm Inara, an alien. And you're up to something. Look, I'm not here to arrest you, I'm not even meant to be here. But you and I know that ATMOS isn't all you say it is. So who's helping you?"

A dangerous look has entered his eyes. "You wanna know? I can bring you to them right now. I mean, even if you leave, they'll find you, so why not save them the trouble? Alien or no alien, you're in the way."

—

I am brought into Luke's rooms in the academy. He needs no weapon or armed guards to keep me following him, my curiosity is far stronger — and deep down, I know he has a point, his allies can just find me again if I run away. At least this way, I can know what we're up against.

He brings me to a bronze cube that stands, six feet tall and wide, in the corner. Its middle has been hollowed out to form a tunnel, circles by walls of pulsing purple light. I stoop my head a little to join him inside and watch as he presses a button on the control panel built into the wall.

In a flash of light, the academy is gone and we stand inside the bridge of a warship in orbit of the planet. The walls and floors are black and shiny, illuminated by more purple lighting. Dozens of figures mill about, most of them with guns. They are short, only around four feet tall, and wear full suits of blue metal and kevlar. Many keep their domed helmets on to conceal themselves completely but the two standing at the centre of the bridge have their equally hemispherical heads bared. Their features are heavy and pinched, with low brows, glaring eyes and oily, brown skin.

Stepping out of the cube, I make an impressed humming noise. "Nice teleportation chamber. Elegant. Could do with some concealment technology, though. The one back at the academy doesn't half stand out."

"What is the meaning of this?" one of the unmasked men growls.

Eager to placate them, Luke scurries past me. "She came to see me. She was asking questions."

The other waddles over to me and prods me in the stomach with his gun. He has to lean back so that he can properly see me at my full height. "Who are you to disturb us? Speak, boy!"

"Don't you recognise from the eyes? Actually, never mind, you probably can't see them that well from down there," I jeer. "I'm Capitian. And you lot... you're a disgrace to the whole Sontaran race."

"How dare—"

"Very easily." I know that I should feel afraid, seeing as I am surrounded by hundreds of war-hungry creatures with less than favourable reputations, but that is an emotion that seems far less strong as time passes. "But I mean it. You're notorious for your love of war and yet here you are, hiding away and manipulating little boys to do your dirty work."

He draws himself up to his full height — only raising by half an inch more — and seethes, "We are implementing a new strategy. I assure you, boy, we are just as masterful in conquest as we have always been. Now, what is your motive for interrupting us? Speak, or you shall not live for much longer."

I scoff and brush past him, entering the centre of the bridge. "Please. If you were going to kill me, you'd have done it the second I arrived. I'm assuming you've got intelligence on me, you know I'm too smart. Either too smart to be alive or too smart to not have on your side. Assuming you've tried killing the doctor, too. So, what's the big plan? What's so clever that the Sontarans had to give up their precious war?"

"A converter has been activated!" cries one of the soldiers.

A hologram of Earth appears in front of us, hovering. It zooms further and further in until a spot of light can pinpoint