Fic: Solid Skies, Chapter 13
Jul. 25th, 2009 12:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
veldeiaTitle: Solid Skies
Author: Veldeia
Series: Sequel to Hollow World
Fandom: Doctor Who
Warnings: WIP
Characters/Pairings: 10th Doctor, Martha Jones, OCs. Gen.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: If you've seen it on TV, it isn't mine.
Summary: After surviving one big cave, the Doctor, Martha and a caving team from the Sixties find themselves in even more trouble, from Plague to politics, on a planet full of caves.
13. Eighteen Hours
Martha had been planning on taking up the search at Khel's terminal again, but when she met Khel outside the Plague research centre, she found out that it would have to wait. "The trial begins in half a tenth," the Khiandrian informed her. "We've got just enough time to pick up the others and get to the Halls of Justice." Jess hadn't been able to postpone the trial, which meant that Martha would have to waste her time listening to hours of alien legal talk, while the Doctor kept getting worse.
The trial turned out even more tedious than Martha could've expected. The Fifteen began from the very beginning, which meant that the entire session was spent discussing the first time Jess had broken the Quarantine Law, when she had left the planet twenty years ago. It went on for hours and hours, with quarantine specialists and travel officers and even Jess's parents giving statements. The latter refused to even look at their daughter, who stood on the central platform all through the session, as defiant and unapologetic as she'd been during the first session, answering questions in a firm, unwavering voice. Neir stood by the platform, and, as far as Martha could understand, did her best to act like she was trying to make Jess seem innocent, while actually subtly making her appear more guilty.
Martha could do nothing but sit on the stone bench, just behind the Fifteen's row, feeling too anxious for words. She considered trying to sneak out. She was free, after all, and there were no guards keeping an eye on her. Then again, she wasn't sure how the Khiandrians would react to that, and whether it would affect the trial somehow. She didn't want to cause Jess any more trouble than what the Khiandrian already faced. Besides, where would she go? She didn't think she'd be able to find her way back to Khel's place on her own, let alone to the NTPCRC - and going back there without even trying to figure out the conspiracy would be exactly what the Doctor didn't want her to do. So, she sat, and waited, and worried.
Once the session was finally over, Martha and the other humans were given a moment together with Jess. Neir was there as well, and on a whim, not expecting to get an answer, Martha asked the spokesperson if she knew anything about contrast.
There was the slightest flash of something on the Neir's face, a hint of a frown, a trace of surprise or alarm. She hid it quickly. "Contrast? It has to do with colours and hues, or opposites, right?" she said, feigning ignorance, but Martha was certain she hadn't just imagined that initial reaction. The fact that Neir made a hasty exit soon after that was more than a little dubious, too.
Later, once they'd bid farewell to Jess and were in a tram, on their way back to Khel's apartment, Martha finally had the chance to ask Khel about the spokesperson. "Do you know Neir well?" she began.
"Not personally, no," Khel answered. "She's more of a work contact and a friend of a friend. I was rather surprised when she called me and offered to take this case. She's a prominent spokesperson - most people on the planet have heard of her. She's of a very old noble family, too. Royal blood, actually, not that it means anything these days."
Royal blood. That reminded Martha of something. Hadn't Khel said earlier that the Deep, the group who had taken the Doctor to Nest Town, were royalists? Could there be a connection? But Martha had thought that... "Neir's a Bright, isn't she?"
"Yes. Quite an influential one, too."
"Oh. Do you know if she happens to know Gaer? The head of the Plague research program?"
"Gaer is a notable Bright too, and they're both active in local politics here in Maze City, so yes, I suppose they know each other. Why are you so interested in Neir?" Khel asked.
"No reason, just wondering," Martha said vaguely. She wasn't going to explain this to Khel, when she no longer had any idea who she could trust.
It might well be just random coincidence that the two women were connected. Maybe they didn't really know each other. Maybe they had nothing to do with the Deep. Martha might be building conspiracy theories based on nothing. Then again, Neir had been there when the Doctor had been kidnapped, and her having volunteered to take the job made her appear even more suspicious. She definitely had been in the right position to make that operation possible - but the kidnappers had been Darks!
Neir and Gaer were Brights. The kidnappers were Darks. Neir had royal blood. The kidnappers were royalists. There were both Darks and Brights at the research centre. Brights and Darks working together in a sinister secret society. Bright versus Dark - so, Contrast?
Could it really be? Would they really pick a name as transparent as that? Then again, it wasn't as if they were shouting that name aloud all around the planet. It was well hidden. Neir must've been really surprised to let her guard slip like that when she'd heard Martha mention the name. Besides, the other extremist organisations didn't exactly have imaginative names, either. The Deep and Obsidian were pretty obvious picks for Darks. Come to think of it, Khiandrian place names followed the same pattern. Nest Town, Maze City, the Halls of Justice... They were all very descriptive and straightforward.
It felt too fitting not to be true. Still, even if it were true, Martha couldn't imagine why these people would've wanted to punish their own planet with something as terrible as the Plague. How exactly had it helped to advance the royalist agenda?
She was still pondering what to do next when they reached their stop. Should she try and find more evidence for her theory, or just go straight to the Doctor and explain it all to him? Should she tell the other humans? What about Khel? Jess's sister didn't seem to be a part of this conspiracy, but could Martha be sure about that?
They stepped out of the tram, climbed up the two sets of stairs leading to the residential level where Khel's apartment was - and found themselves surrounded by a circle of grim-looking Khiandrians in black uniforms. Before Martha had time to ask what was going on, one of the guards grabbed her firmly by the arm, and pulled her aside.
"What -" Martha began.
The guard shushed her. "Keep walking, and don't draw attention to us. It's all right. I'm a friend."
Now that she looked at the guard, Martha recognised her as the very same woman she'd helped after the train crash. Behind them, Martha saw her friends confront the other guards. Khel was shouting at them angrily as they surrounded her and the humans, who seemed too confused to act at all.
Martha's guard guided her to the nearest staircase leading up. As soon as they were away from sight of the others, the guard took up running, pulling Martha along so insistently that she had little choice but to follow.
**********
Five hours after he'd found the original, useless cure, the Doctor was still exactly where he had started from. He'd had the AI run simulations with modified versions of the cure, but none of those had had any effect on the Plague organism. The only thing that had advanced at all during the time that had passed was the infection.
He had allowed his temperature to drop as he worked, consciously keeping himself from shivering or otherwise producing more heat, hoping that it would slow the spread of the crystal growth and buy him some time. The only result had been that he now felt very cold indeed, and his thoughts were sluggish due to his slowed-down metabolism.
For the first time since he'd been infected, it occurred to him that he might not be able to come up with a cure in time. Maybe this pessimism was only another symptom of hypothermia, but still... Sure, he was more clever than Khiandrians, but they weren't exactly stupid either, having been able to create this Plague in the first place. If they hadn't managed to find a working cure in half a year, could he really be able do it in a few hours? And even if he could, he was only working on simulations here, on theoretical models. He was sure the Khiandrian researchers could easily synthesise the compound, but it wasn't as if they were going to do that for him just because he asked nicely.
He had the computer display his own data for a change, and found that it was full of warnings, blanks, and things labelled as estimations. Apparently, the crystal shell prevented the scanners from getting proper readings. It now covered everything except for his left arm and shoulder and his head. There was no longer any point in trying to avoid discomfort. The only comfortable position would've been lying down, not moving at all, not even breathing. The crystal enveloping his chest barely gave way enough to allow shallow breaths, each single one of them painful. He could imagine that by this time, most victims would succumb to the inevitable, simply give in, fall unconscious, and suffocate.
He had no intention of giving up, but he did need a break. He slid to the floor, and relinquished the mental hold he'd had on his thermoregulation. Instantly, shivers wracked his body. He let his teeth chatter, and took as deep breaths as he could, doing his best to gather his wits, to get rid of the cold-induced stupor.
He wondered what would happen if he failed. He'd be able to hold on for some time once the crystal growth had covered him entirely. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing. The thought that he might be conscious when the Plague moved on to Phase II was terrifying.
Whichever the case, eventually, it would all be too much, and he would regenerate, and then what? Would the Plague organism be able to soak up all that energy? Or would it be destroyed, or would it simply shift to the dormant phase, only to infect his new body right away, again and again, until he had none left? He really had no idea.
He hoped Martha would show up soon. It always helped if he could bounce his ideas off someone, especially someone brilliant - not to mention that he'd rather not be all alone if the worst came to pass. She'd promised to return, and he would've expected her back by now. He was sure she would've come, had she been able to. He really hoped she was all right, and not in any trouble.
14. Twenty Hours
Author: Veldeia
Series: Sequel to Hollow World
Fandom: Doctor Who
Warnings: WIP
Characters/Pairings: 10th Doctor, Martha Jones, OCs. Gen.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: If you've seen it on TV, it isn't mine.
Summary: After surviving one big cave, the Doctor, Martha and a caving team from the Sixties find themselves in even more trouble, from Plague to politics, on a planet full of caves.
13. Eighteen Hours
Martha had been planning on taking up the search at Khel's terminal again, but when she met Khel outside the Plague research centre, she found out that it would have to wait. "The trial begins in half a tenth," the Khiandrian informed her. "We've got just enough time to pick up the others and get to the Halls of Justice." Jess hadn't been able to postpone the trial, which meant that Martha would have to waste her time listening to hours of alien legal talk, while the Doctor kept getting worse.
The trial turned out even more tedious than Martha could've expected. The Fifteen began from the very beginning, which meant that the entire session was spent discussing the first time Jess had broken the Quarantine Law, when she had left the planet twenty years ago. It went on for hours and hours, with quarantine specialists and travel officers and even Jess's parents giving statements. The latter refused to even look at their daughter, who stood on the central platform all through the session, as defiant and unapologetic as she'd been during the first session, answering questions in a firm, unwavering voice. Neir stood by the platform, and, as far as Martha could understand, did her best to act like she was trying to make Jess seem innocent, while actually subtly making her appear more guilty.
Martha could do nothing but sit on the stone bench, just behind the Fifteen's row, feeling too anxious for words. She considered trying to sneak out. She was free, after all, and there were no guards keeping an eye on her. Then again, she wasn't sure how the Khiandrians would react to that, and whether it would affect the trial somehow. She didn't want to cause Jess any more trouble than what the Khiandrian already faced. Besides, where would she go? She didn't think she'd be able to find her way back to Khel's place on her own, let alone to the NTPCRC - and going back there without even trying to figure out the conspiracy would be exactly what the Doctor didn't want her to do. So, she sat, and waited, and worried.
Once the session was finally over, Martha and the other humans were given a moment together with Jess. Neir was there as well, and on a whim, not expecting to get an answer, Martha asked the spokesperson if she knew anything about contrast.
There was the slightest flash of something on the Neir's face, a hint of a frown, a trace of surprise or alarm. She hid it quickly. "Contrast? It has to do with colours and hues, or opposites, right?" she said, feigning ignorance, but Martha was certain she hadn't just imagined that initial reaction. The fact that Neir made a hasty exit soon after that was more than a little dubious, too.
Later, once they'd bid farewell to Jess and were in a tram, on their way back to Khel's apartment, Martha finally had the chance to ask Khel about the spokesperson. "Do you know Neir well?" she began.
"Not personally, no," Khel answered. "She's more of a work contact and a friend of a friend. I was rather surprised when she called me and offered to take this case. She's a prominent spokesperson - most people on the planet have heard of her. She's of a very old noble family, too. Royal blood, actually, not that it means anything these days."
Royal blood. That reminded Martha of something. Hadn't Khel said earlier that the Deep, the group who had taken the Doctor to Nest Town, were royalists? Could there be a connection? But Martha had thought that... "Neir's a Bright, isn't she?"
"Yes. Quite an influential one, too."
"Oh. Do you know if she happens to know Gaer? The head of the Plague research program?"
"Gaer is a notable Bright too, and they're both active in local politics here in Maze City, so yes, I suppose they know each other. Why are you so interested in Neir?" Khel asked.
"No reason, just wondering," Martha said vaguely. She wasn't going to explain this to Khel, when she no longer had any idea who she could trust.
It might well be just random coincidence that the two women were connected. Maybe they didn't really know each other. Maybe they had nothing to do with the Deep. Martha might be building conspiracy theories based on nothing. Then again, Neir had been there when the Doctor had been kidnapped, and her having volunteered to take the job made her appear even more suspicious. She definitely had been in the right position to make that operation possible - but the kidnappers had been Darks!
Neir and Gaer were Brights. The kidnappers were Darks. Neir had royal blood. The kidnappers were royalists. There were both Darks and Brights at the research centre. Brights and Darks working together in a sinister secret society. Bright versus Dark - so, Contrast?
Could it really be? Would they really pick a name as transparent as that? Then again, it wasn't as if they were shouting that name aloud all around the planet. It was well hidden. Neir must've been really surprised to let her guard slip like that when she'd heard Martha mention the name. Besides, the other extremist organisations didn't exactly have imaginative names, either. The Deep and Obsidian were pretty obvious picks for Darks. Come to think of it, Khiandrian place names followed the same pattern. Nest Town, Maze City, the Halls of Justice... They were all very descriptive and straightforward.
It felt too fitting not to be true. Still, even if it were true, Martha couldn't imagine why these people would've wanted to punish their own planet with something as terrible as the Plague. How exactly had it helped to advance the royalist agenda?
She was still pondering what to do next when they reached their stop. Should she try and find more evidence for her theory, or just go straight to the Doctor and explain it all to him? Should she tell the other humans? What about Khel? Jess's sister didn't seem to be a part of this conspiracy, but could Martha be sure about that?
They stepped out of the tram, climbed up the two sets of stairs leading to the residential level where Khel's apartment was - and found themselves surrounded by a circle of grim-looking Khiandrians in black uniforms. Before Martha had time to ask what was going on, one of the guards grabbed her firmly by the arm, and pulled her aside.
"What -" Martha began.
The guard shushed her. "Keep walking, and don't draw attention to us. It's all right. I'm a friend."
Now that she looked at the guard, Martha recognised her as the very same woman she'd helped after the train crash. Behind them, Martha saw her friends confront the other guards. Khel was shouting at them angrily as they surrounded her and the humans, who seemed too confused to act at all.
Martha's guard guided her to the nearest staircase leading up. As soon as they were away from sight of the others, the guard took up running, pulling Martha along so insistently that she had little choice but to follow.
Five hours after he'd found the original, useless cure, the Doctor was still exactly where he had started from. He'd had the AI run simulations with modified versions of the cure, but none of those had had any effect on the Plague organism. The only thing that had advanced at all during the time that had passed was the infection.
He had allowed his temperature to drop as he worked, consciously keeping himself from shivering or otherwise producing more heat, hoping that it would slow the spread of the crystal growth and buy him some time. The only result had been that he now felt very cold indeed, and his thoughts were sluggish due to his slowed-down metabolism.
For the first time since he'd been infected, it occurred to him that he might not be able to come up with a cure in time. Maybe this pessimism was only another symptom of hypothermia, but still... Sure, he was more clever than Khiandrians, but they weren't exactly stupid either, having been able to create this Plague in the first place. If they hadn't managed to find a working cure in half a year, could he really be able do it in a few hours? And even if he could, he was only working on simulations here, on theoretical models. He was sure the Khiandrian researchers could easily synthesise the compound, but it wasn't as if they were going to do that for him just because he asked nicely.
He had the computer display his own data for a change, and found that it was full of warnings, blanks, and things labelled as estimations. Apparently, the crystal shell prevented the scanners from getting proper readings. It now covered everything except for his left arm and shoulder and his head. There was no longer any point in trying to avoid discomfort. The only comfortable position would've been lying down, not moving at all, not even breathing. The crystal enveloping his chest barely gave way enough to allow shallow breaths, each single one of them painful. He could imagine that by this time, most victims would succumb to the inevitable, simply give in, fall unconscious, and suffocate.
He had no intention of giving up, but he did need a break. He slid to the floor, and relinquished the mental hold he'd had on his thermoregulation. Instantly, shivers wracked his body. He let his teeth chatter, and took as deep breaths as he could, doing his best to gather his wits, to get rid of the cold-induced stupor.
He wondered what would happen if he failed. He'd be able to hold on for some time once the crystal growth had covered him entirely. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing. The thought that he might be conscious when the Plague moved on to Phase II was terrifying.
Whichever the case, eventually, it would all be too much, and he would regenerate, and then what? Would the Plague organism be able to soak up all that energy? Or would it be destroyed, or would it simply shift to the dormant phase, only to infect his new body right away, again and again, until he had none left? He really had no idea.
He hoped Martha would show up soon. It always helped if he could bounce his ideas off someone, especially someone brilliant - not to mention that he'd rather not be all alone if the worst came to pass. She'd promised to return, and he would've expected her back by now. He was sure she would've come, had she been able to. He really hoped she was all right, and not in any trouble.
14. Twenty Hours
