The Time of Change

Osgood and Osbad

In the corridor of the Under Gallery, two scientists called Osgood and McGillop stand together among the tarp-covered statues. They attempt to examine the unnamed stone dust. "Marble. Granite," mutters Osgood, pacing. "A lot of different stone, but none of it from the fabric of this building. It's like somebody smashed up a bunch of old statues. Are there any missing?"

"Don't think so," says McGillop as he straightens a piece of artwork on the wall. "Why would anyone want to do that, anyway? I mean, I know we're meant to keep an open mind, but are we really supposed to believe in creatures that can hide in oil paintings and have some sort of grudge against statues?" He laughs to himself and turns to look at Osgood, who has gone completely still and very white. Her eyes are wide. McGillop moves closer to her. "You alright?" he asks, concerned.

She uses her inhaler shakily. "We have to go," she says. "Right now. This minute."

"What's wrong?"

"The things from the paintings. I know why they smashed the statues."

"Why?"

"They needed somewhere to hide."

Slowly, the tarp nearest to her right begins to shift. Both scientists eye it, terrified, as it is raised up over the head of what they both believed to be a statue. Underneath, a shockingly red and slimy creature is revealed. It growls at them menacingly. All around the hallway, Zygons uncover themselves and step off their platforms, reaching their arms out to touch the young assistants. Osgood attempts to yank McGillop away from the outstretched hands, but she does not move fast enough. A Zygon grabs the man tightly, and in a frenzy, Osgood flees the room. She sprints through the halls and reaches the secret door hidden by the portrait of the Tenth Doctor and Queen Elizabeth, shutting it behind her. Two seconds after she is out of arms-reach, a crimson hand crashes through the area of canvas upon which the Doctor's face is painted. The Zygon manages to shove the door forward, letting itself into the National Gallery, and follows Osgood hotly.

The young woman makes it to the lift and punches the button to an upper floor, but it does not move, nor do the doors close. Defeated and frightened, she slumps into the furthest left corner of the elevator, murmuring, "The Doctor will save me. The Doctor will save me. The Doctor will save me. The Doctor will save me..."

"Excuse me."

Osgood looks up at the perfect imitation of her voice to see that the creature has copied her likeness flawlessly. The other her has the same spectacles, hair messily in a bun, spotless white lab coat, and colorful, striped scarf. "I'm going to need my inhaler," Zygon-Osgood states. Its eyes dart to the floor, fixating on the inhaler that lies abandoned. The real Osgood realizes it must have fallen from her pocket when she was running.

The fake Osgood retrieves it and sighs. "I so hate it when I get one with a defect," it says casually, referring to the girl's asthma. "Ooh," it adds now, eyes widening at the human. "You've got some perfectly horrible memories in here, haven't you? So jealous of your pretty sister. I don't blame you. I wish I'd copied her."

The real Osgood stares at the scarf trailing onto the floor and gathers her determination and confidence. "Yeah, so do I!" she shouts, giving the fabric a good hard tug. The Zygon in disguise tumbles to the floor, its face slamming against the cold granite, and Osgood scrambles to her feet.

"Oh, for goodness sake," groans Zygon-Osgood as the real one makes her getaway.