Until We Burn | Dr Who

Chapter Forty-One: Welcome Aboard

Mr Stoker's office is large and characteristically decorated with many framed awards and pointlessly intricate desk toys. His desk, albeit organised, barely has any free space left on it. A few anatomical paintings on the walls hand at odd angles.

"She's gone. She was here," Martha hisses, hurrying in after us.

She stops beside me, realising the cause for our distraction. Mr Stoker— or, to put it more plainly, his body — lies stiff on the floor, his skin appearing oddly thick and greyish. His eyes are wide and unblinking but their corners bear no colour, nor do his lips. Crouching over him, the Doctor rests a hand against the body's neck in search of a pulse. "Drained him dry, every last drop. I was right, she's a Plasmavore."

I know that the name is familiar but my brain can't quite keep up. I lean heavily against the desk to keep the spinning office at bay.

"Then what's she doing on Earth?"

"Hiding, on the run... like Ronald Biggs in Rio de Janeiro." Another reference that is lost on me, I vaguely think. "What's she doing now? She's still not safe. The Judoon could execute us all. Come on," he concludes, rising to his feet once more.

My dread at the thought of moving again is temporarily eased by Martha's interjection, "Wait a minute." She carefully approaches her former supervisor and closes his eyes.

"Think, think, think. If I was a wanted Plasmavore surrounded by police, what would I do?" No sooner has the question been uttered, the Doctor's gaze lands on the sign at the end of the hall pointing to the MRI room. "Oh. She's as clever as me. Almost."

A nearby door bursts open. Over the panicked screams, we can hear the distinctive grunt of a Judoon, "Find the non-human! Execute!"

He pulls us around a corner, out of sight. "Inara, Martha, I need you to stay here. You've got to hold them up."

"How do we do that?"

"Just—" His eyes dart over to me but all I can do is stare dazedly, leaning against the wall. "Forgive me for this. It could save a thousand lives. It means nothing — honestly, nothing."

The next thing I know, he is kissing her. On the lips. And what little energy I have left drains even more. My chest feels hollow, my stomach heavy. It feels like it lasts much longer but then he is gone, with one more glance, and we are alone. Martha says nothing, only lets out a sigh and shakes her head.

Hand in hand, we wait for the Judoon to reach us. My stubbornness almost outmatched her insistence on the oxygen mask being given to me. With my head significantly clearer than before, I take a protective step in front of Martha but she pulls me right back. "Now, listen," she shakily warns the oncoming thugs. "I know who you're looking for. She's this woman, she calls herself Florence."

Barely acknowledging her, the leader jabs his scanner in the direction of my face. I hold my breath and pray that the biodamper ring will work. "Human." He moves on to her. "Human. Wait. Non-human trace suspected. Non-human element confirmed. Authorise full scan." He backs her up against the wall and two of his lackeys secure me before I can jump in to defend her. "What are you? What are you?"

I hold eye contact with the girl and nod slightly — a nonverbal promise that, whatever happens now, I will ensure her safety.

The scan is completed and he marks an X on the back of her hand. "Designated: human. Traces of facial contact with non-human. Continue the search. You will need this."