The Orphan in the TARDIS

Chapter Twenty-Five

Standing in the doorway, looking slightly confused, is Clara Oswald. Sophie smiles, as the Bow tie Doctor looks gobsmacked, "How did you do that?"

"It wasn't locked," the teacher shrugs.

"Right."

Sophie snorts from where she's leaning against the wall. The pinstripe Doctor shoots her a look, and she smiles cheekily at him.

"So they're both you, then, yeah?" Clara asks, leaning toward her Doctor.

"Yes. You've met them before. Don't you remember?"

"A bit," she shrugs, turning to look at Sandshoes, "Nice suit."

"Thanks."

"Hang on. Three of you in one cell, and none of you thought to try the door?"

"See, that's what I've been thinking."

"You've been trapped here too!" Sandshoes grumbles, faking annoyance. "You could have easily checked the door yourself."

"Didn't think that was at all necessary, seeing as I'm trapped in here with three Doctor's. You all seemed so sure that we were trapped. It was very convincing."

"It should have been locked," the Warrior grunts.

"Yes. Exactly. Why wasn't it locked?" Chinny concurs, looking at the door.

"Because I was fascinated to see what you would do upon escaping," the Elizabeth says, stepping into the cell. "I understand you're rather fond of this world. It's time I think you saw what's going to happen to it."

The Queen leads the group from the cell up a few levels of the tower. They enter a dimly lit room, filled to the brim with Zygons. Sophie crinkles her nose as the stench of the suckery aliens fills her nostrils.

"The Zygons lost their own world. It burnt in the first days of the Time War. A new home is required," the Elizabeth informs the squad.

"So what, they want this sh*th*le?" Sophie questions just to get glares from three Time Lords.

"Not yet. It's far too primitive. Zygons are used to a certain level of comfort."

"Commander, why are these creatures here?" the alien hisses.

"Because I say they should be. It is time you too were translated. Observe this. I believe you will find it fascinating."

The creature sets his hand on a small glass cube with dents in the sides that rests on a small table. The Zygon vanishes from the room, as a figure materializes in the painting hanging from the wall.

"That's him!" Clara gasps, leaning toward her Doctor, "That's the Zygon in the picture now."

"It's not a picture, it's a stasis cube," the War Doctor shakes his head, "Time Lord art. Frozen instants in time, bigger on the inside, but could be deployed as–"

The pinstripe Doctor cuts him off, "Suspended animation. Oh, that's very good. The Zygons all pop inside the pictures, wait a few centuries till the planet's a bit more interesting, and then out they come."

"Seriously?" Sophie asks, raising an eyebrow. "That sounds boring. Also, why in the name of sanity would you want to invade earth in the future. It's bad now. What, do you really think humanity is just going to improve their ways, and the world's gonna improve?"

The oldest Doctor glances at her out of the corner of his eye, proceeding to roll them both. "You see, Clara, they're stored in the paintings in the Under Gallery, like cup-a-soups," he waves his hands in front of his face, "Except you add time, if you can picture that. Nobody could picture that. Forget I said cup-a-soups."