Martha has begun to pace again but stops abruptly. Tallulah and I watch her, silent in anticipation for her next words. "Wait a minute," she breathes. "Down in the sewers, the Daleks mentioned this... energy conductor."

Sending my thoughts back to that moment, I gasp. "My Gods, you're right."

"'Right' about what? What does that mean?"

She looks to me but I have nothing. "I don't know," she stammers, "maybe like a lightning conductor or... Dalekanium!" The girl flinches at Martha's sudden shout. "They said the Dalekanium was in place."

"'In place' where?"

"Frank might know."

We find the boy sitting alone at the edge of the square. My gaze softens the second I see him. The grief must have finally hit him. "Frank?"

Hastily wiping his eyes, he hums in reply.

Martha sighs, "That Mr Diagoras, he was some sort of fixer, yeah? Get you jobs all over town?"

"He could find a profit anywhere."

"But where, though, what sort of things?"

He keeps his head down, sniffing quietly. "You name it. We're all so desperate for work, you just hope Diagoras would pick you for something good. Building work — that pays the best."

Sending us a sharp, knowing look, she crouches in front of him. "But what sort of building work?"

"Mainly building that." He points behind him, off to the spire of light rising in the distance. The Empire State Building.

——————

Sandwiched in between the rest of us in a cramped lift, Martha glances warily at the wooden boards that wall us in. "I always wanted to go to the Empire State Building. Never imagined it quite like this, though."

Frank hugs himself against the cold. "Where are we headed, anyway?"

"The top, where they're still building."

Frowning, Tallulah asks, "Hey, how come those guys just let us through? How's that thing work?"

"Psychic paper. Shows them whatever I want them to think," she chuckles. "According to this, we're three engineers and an architect."

Even unfinished, it's clear that the space is already being occupied. We pass a desk and chair on our way onto the floor, immediately entranced by the uncovered gaps in the wall where windows have yet to be installed. Beyond them, the city buzzes with midnight activity.

Shivering from the cold and sheer wonder, Tallulah stumbles towards the view. "Look at this place. Top of the world!"

An easel holds schematics for the building. I wave the others over to it. "This'll be it."

I examine its crisscrossed sketches of the floors, tracing the lines of scaffolding. Frank leans over to point out the red box at the side marked 'Revisions'. "Hey, look at the date. These designs were issued today. They must have changed something last minute."

"You mean the Daleks changed something?"

"Yeah, could be."

Martha turns the large page to reveal an almost identical one. "The ones underneath, they're from before. That means whatever they changed must be on this top sheet, but not on this one. Check one against the other."

"The height of this place," Tallulah gaps, nearing the edge. "This is amazing."

"Careful! We're a hundred floors up, don't go wandering off."

"I just wanna see."

I can't help but smile. "Gods, Martha, you sound like the Doctor."

We carefully lift the pages, spreading them out across the floor. My attention is immediately caught by the details of every floor, every line, every mark. These structures are the work of geniuses. It's incredible that I even get to touch these plans.

Clearing his throat, Frank gestures for the door through which we entered. "I'll go and keep an eye out, make sure we're safe here. Don't want nobody butting in."

We can hardly hear him over the rolling of thunder. "There's a hell of a storm moving in," Tallulah notes, making her way back over to us. Her face is still flushed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"I wish the Doctor was here. He'd know what we're looking for."

Humming in agreement, I shake one of the papers stiff and hold it up to the light of a hanging lantern. High heels tap against the marble parquet. "So tell me, where did you and him first hook up?"

A smile dawns on me. I shrug. "Followed him out of a bar. He was investigating my own con, if you'd believe. Just sort of... stuck together after that. Known him for years — longer than he's known me, I suppose."

"Years and you've never done a thing? Jeesh, either you're pretty bad at flirting or he's got a thing for musical theatre."

"Maybe. We've just had other things on our minds."

Scrunching her nose up, she replies, "Yeah, tell me about it. Took Laszlo a year to fess up, he was just so shy. Now what d'you know? He's part pig! Least I didn't lose him completely but, still, it scares me how bad they must've hurt him to hide from me like that."

My mind goes back to that man we had chased in the theatre, how he had been with the Doctor. It makes so much sense now. I wince and offer an apologetic grimace. "I'm sorry, that's awful."

Martha sends me a sidelong glance, shadowed by a hint of bitterness. It vanishes before I can be sure I saw it. "Listen, if the Doctor's with Laszlo now, there's every chance that he could get him out."

Her bottom lip quivers. "And then what? Don't talk crazy. There's no future for me and him, those Dalek things took that away. The one good thing I had in my life, and they destroyed it."

I watch her step away with a pang of guilt. It must be terrifying to see someone you love be treated in that way, to be changed into something you hardly recognise. My jaw clenches painfully at the thought and I force myself to return to our search. Something catches my eye, right at the top of the tower. Nudging Martha, I point to it.

"Gotcha!" she cheers, beckoning for Tallulah again. "Look."

"See those lines at the top?" I say, my finger following the two marks just above the pointed framework, parallel, as if fixed along them.

"They're new! They've added something, see?"

She squints. "Added what?"

We already know what. Looking at each other in triumph, we realise. "Dalekanium!"

"Someone's coming up! The elevator!" Frank cries, racing into the room.

There is a frantic scramble. The others gather the papers and I take up a mallet. I take to the front of the group, ready to defend.

The doors slide open.

"Doctor!"

Dropping the mallet, I race towards him. We collide with enough force to knock the wind out of him but he hugs me back all the same, wheezing, "First floor, perfumery."

"I never thought I'd see you again!" Tallulah sobs.

She is greeted in an equally tight embrace by Laszlo. Over her shoulder, he sends us a small nod of apology.

Leading the Doctor over to the plans, I pass his psychic paper to him. "Thanks for the subtle hint."

"We've worked it out," Martha excitedly chimes in. "We know what they've done. There's Dalekanium on the mast... and it's good to see you too, by the way."

"Oh, come here!" He pulls her into a hug strong enough to lift her feet from the ground, spinning her around.

With a ding, the lift doors shut.

"No, no, no, no! See? Never waste time with a hug!" He tries his sonic on the buttons but nothing happens. "Deadlock seal. I can't stop it."

"Where's it going?"

"Going down to the Daleks. They won't leave us alone up here. What's the time?"

Frank peers over at a clock on the desk. "Uh... 11:15."

"Six minutes to go. I've got to remove the Dalekanium before the gamma radiation hits."

Tallulah scoffs, "Gammon radiation? What the heck is that?"

He runs for the scaffolding at the very edge. We all follow in tow, bracing ourselves against the walls as we get a view of the city below. It's even worse than I thought. Far-off lights twinkle up at us through the indigo haze. Like star clusters, diamonds on velvet. Even the tallest structures in the city are tiny compared to where we stand. "Oh, that's high. That's very— Blimey, that's high."

Martha gulps. "And we've got to go even higher." She leads us to a ladder. Through the gap above it, we can see the metal framework and light panels leading all the way up to the top. There must be at least thirty feet more to go. "That's the mast, up there, look. There's three pieces of Dalekanium the base. We've got to get them off."

"That's not 'we', that's just me," he argues.

I shoot him a glare. "Not this again. You've done enough stupid things for one night, mister."

She huffs, "Inara's right. We're not just gonna stand there and watch you!"

"No, you're gonna have your hands full anyway. I'm sorry, Martha, but you've got to fight."

Protectiveness boils within me, a furious heat. I know I won't be able to talk him out of this, nor will I follow him without risking a fight that distracts us from the matter at hand. With an sigh, I give him a militaristic nod, unwilling to go through the distress of our last goodbye again. "Good thing I've had practise then, isn't it? Now, get on with it!"

—

Taking to the front of the group again, I tense my grip around the handle of a mallet and pray for it to work. The others grab for loose pipes and spanners, anything they can find.

"The lift's coming up."

"I should've brought that gun," Frank groans.

"Tallulah, stay back. You too, Martha. Pig Slaves are trained to kill!"

She resists Laszlo's attempts to push her back. "I'm not going anywhere!"

"They're savages! I should know. They're trained to slit your throat with their bare teeth."

He shoulders a mallet but the weight is too much. Something is wrong. Stumbling, he regains his balance only to keel over a moment later. "Laszlo! What is it?"

Brushing Tallulah off, he shakes his head. "Nah, it's nothing. I'm fine. Just leave me." He tries to use his mallet as a cane to help him stand but his arms give way.

She kneels beside him, stroking back a loose strand of hair from his clammy forehead. His pig ears twitch and his lips part for air, further showing his blunt tusks. "Oh, honey," she croons, "you're burning up. What's wrong with you? Tell me."

"One man down, we ain't even started yet."

The dial above the lift is only getting higher. I gulp, my prayers continuing in a string of incoherent mumblings. Martha's hand finds mine and she squeezes it. "It's not looking good."

"No."

"We're gonna get slaughtered."

A particularly loud clap of thunder marks the bolt of light that zigzags across the sky. The thought of the Doctor out in that hits me with an unexpected wave of fear.

"Wait a minute," Martha gasps. "Lightning!"

My eyes light up as the idea hits me. If we can direct the electricity to the lift, we could take a whole group of Pig Slaves out without a fight. "Gods, you're brilliant."

There isn't much time for us to put our weapon together. We carry loose pipes over to the doors of the lift and connect them up, using chairs and stools to elevate them. Over our rushing footsteps, Tallulah's gentle murmurs to her weakened boyfriend can be heard. "You'll be all right, sweetheart. Don't you worry." Her gaze lands on us again and she sours, roaring at us, "What the hell are you clowns doing?"

"Even if the Doctor takes off the Dalekanium, this place is gonna get hit — a great big bolt of lightning, electricity all down the building. Connect this to the lift and they get zapped!"

"Oh my God, that could work."

"Then give us a hand."

We lay the finishing touches. Grabbing my mallet again, just in case, I join the others. "Is that gonna work?" Tallulah anxiously asks.

"It's got to!"

Rushing back from the edge, Frank joins our crouched huddle. "I got it all piped up to the scaffolding outside."

Martha brings him in, hugging the both of us close. "Sit in the middle, don't touch anything metal."

They're almost here. Just one floor to go.

"Come on, Doctor."

The doors open.

I feel it before I see it — a buzzing in the air. It rises, higher and higher. Electricity jumps along the line of pipes and right into the wall of the lift. The Pig Slaves stop in their tracks, their shrill squeals filling the room.

By the time the lightning strike is over and we open our eyes, they are all on the floor. The sight of them isn't quite as comforting as it should be. The other two laugh with relief. "You did it, Martha!"

But her eyes brim with tears. "They used to be like Laszlo. They were people... and I killed them."

Struggling to his feet, Laszlo approaches. "No. The Daleks killed them, long ago."

"Doctor," I whisper. "Oh Gods, the Doctor!"

I scramble up the ladder with the others close behind. He lies at the edge of the scaffolding, the moonlight only accentuating his pallid face.

Panic grips me again. "No, no, no." Sweat beads sheen his face. I wipe it away, lightly tapping on his cheek to wake him. He doesn't.

Shaking him, Martha holds his sonic screwdriver up and manages a weak laugh. "Look what we found, halfway down. You're getting careless."

With a quiet groan, his face scrunches up. "Oh, my head."

She chuckles, "Hiya."

"Hi. You survived, then."

"So did you. Just about."

Taking his hand in mine, I rest my other on his forehead. "You had me scared. You know what, I think we should keep a jar. Every time you almost get yourself killed, you can put a penny in. Expect you'll have enough to buy me my own extrapolator by the end of the month."

His dazed eyes open a little more and he grins. "Fair's fair, I suppose."

"If you two are done," she pipes up. "I can't help noticing there's Dalekanium still attached."

We make our way back down, holding him steady as the shakiness continues to wear off. Looking out at the city below, the Doctor gravely explains, "The Daleks will have gone straight to a war footing, using the sewer system, spreading soldiers out underneath Manhattan."

Laszlo nods slowly. "How do we stop them?"

"There's only one chance. I got in the way. That gamma strike went zapping through me first."

He heads back inside and Martha hurries after, sending me a baffled glance. "Yeah, but what does that mean?"

"We need to draw fire. Before they attack New York, I need to face them. Where can I draw them out?" He runs a hand through his hair in agitation. "Think, think, think. I need a space, somewhere safe, somewhere out of the way. Tallulah!"

"That's me — three 'l's and an 'h'."

"The theatre's above them and it's gone midnight. Can you get us inside?"

She shrugs awkwardly. "Don't see why not."

Just one look at the state of the pigs in the lift makes it clear that it won't be operational for a while. "Is there another lift?"

"We came up in the service elevator."

"That'll do! Allons-y!"

——————

The theatre is drastically different now that it is empty. Save for a few dim lights in the boxes and at the foot of the stage, the entire place is dark. The red of the seats is far more vivid when unhidden by a sea of audience members.

"This should do it. Here we go!" he cheers, climbing up onto them to scan around us.

Sulking, Tallulah tiptoes down the aisle, still in her dance heels. "There ain't nothing more creepy than a theatre in the dark. Listen, Doctor, I know you've got a thing for show tunes, but there's a time and a place! Laszlo? What's wrong?"

He slumps into a chair, clutching at his chest. With a glance towards the Doctor, he shakes his head. "Nothing. It's just so hot."

"But it's freezing in here. Doctor, what's happening to him?"

"Not now, Tallulah, sorry."

Martha watches him hold the sonic to his ear with growing impatience. "What are you doing?"

"If the Daleks are at war, they'll want to find their number-one enemy. I'm just telling them where I am. Rest of you, off you pop."

"Not bloody likely!"

Stepping down, he towers over her, his eyes panicked and pleading. "I'm telling you to go. Frank can take you to Hooverville."

She stands her ground. "And I'm telling you I'm not going."

A glance at me for help does nothing. He already knows that I won't leave this time, but the least he can do is try to get her to safety. "Martha, that's an order!"

"Who are you, then? Some sort of Dalek?"

The doors burst open. We all freeze, staring in horror as ranks of humans march in, all carrying guns similar to those of the Daleks. Their faces are pale and clammy, clearly dead. They don't even seem to see us, filing in until the aisles around us are completely blocked.

Helping her boyfriend to his feet, Tallulah stares helplessly around at them. "Well, I guess that's them, then, huh?"

"Humans. With Dalek DNA."

Frank recognises one. He steps forwards but the Doctor hurriedly holds him back, guiding him over to Martha and I. "All right, just stay calm. Don't antagonise them."

"But where are the Dalek masters? Where are they?"

As if on cue, a section of the stage bursts up in shrapnel and sparks. We duck behind the seats for cover, watching as two of them emerge from the smoke. Before them crawls Sec, his wrists, ankles and neck chained.

"The Doctor will stand before the Daleks." He doesn't dare to talk back. Climbing up onto the seats again, he walks along the rows with perfect balance, his gaze fixed on his foe. "You will die, Doctor, at the beginning of a new age!"

"Planet Earth will become the New Skaro."

"Oh, and what a world, with anything just the slightest bit different ground into the dirt. That's Dalek Sec! Don't you remember? The cleverest Dalek ever and look what you've done to him. Is that your new empire? Hmm? Is that the foundation for a whole new civilisation?"

With laboured breath, Sec tries to turn to his old allies. "My friends... just understand this. If you choose death and destruction, then death and destruction will choose you."

"Incorrect. We always survive."

"Now we will destroy our greatest enemy — the Doctor."

His eye widens with panic. "But he can help you."

They shift uneasily, longing for the kill. "The Doctor must die!"

My fists clench tighter and tighter, almost to a breaking point. There's nothing I can do to stop them.

Still, Sec protests, "No! I beg you, don't!"

"Exterminate!"

Just as he manages to push himself to his feet, the ray hits him. His body glows with radiation and he lets out one last dying scream.

The Doctor watches, tensing with anger. It will only build. I know him enough to be sure of that. "Your own leader, the only creature who might have led you out of the darkness, and you destroyed him!" He turns to the Dalek-Human drones that trap us, watching in sullen silence. "Do you see what they did? Do you see what a Dalek really is? If I'm gonna die, let's give the new boys a shot. What d'you think, eh? The Dalek-Humans. Their first blood. Go on. Baptise them!"

His arms open wide. They accept the invitation. "Dalek-Humans, take aim."

This time, I don't feel any fear. There's another thing I know about the Doctor: he isn't stupid. He wouldn't give them such an idea without a plan.

With a collective clicking of guns being cocked, every weapon in the room focuses on him. "What are you waiting for? Give the command."

"Exterminate!"

I don't flinch with the others. I wait. Nothing happens.

It tries again, "Exterminate!" Still, they don't move. "Obey! Dalek-Humans will