Doctor Who: Mind and Body

Chapter 7: Split Decisions

CHAPTER 7: Split Decisions

Noxious green gas filled the chamber. It billowed downwards, thick and heavy, and slowly enveloped the Ood in a toxic cloud. Save for the gentlest of head turns as it examined the gas, the Ood remained motionless - it simply stood in place. Not oblivious to the situation, but… obliging it. Obeying its final instruction. And it wasn't long before the Ood completely disappeared in the vapours.

From his position at the control deck, behind the glass, the Doctor stared into the room. He, too, did not move. Could not move.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, tasting the salt from his tears.

Rory put a hand on the Doctor's shoulder, not knowing what else to do. Words weren't coming, and the ones that did didn't seem to stack up anywhere near to the gravity of the Doctor's situation. Although he hadn't known him all that long, Rory could sense that this action - this forced, necessary action - was one that the Doctor did not perform lightly. Clearly, its weight would carry with him.

The Doctor blinked once, twice. He looked down at the control panel before him, then turned around to face Rory and the two Amys. "The door's open," he said simply. "Airlock. Now."

They filed out into the corridor, the space still shrouded in foreboding red light. Rory looked over his shoulder to see that the dark figure of Joseph had not moved - but this time, instead of cunning insight, its expression was one of confusion. Bewilderment. It cocked its head, and immediately, the muscles in its neck tensed when it realised where the group was heading.

The Doctor ushered the three into the small airlock, and as they entered, he produced his sonic screwdriver and scanned the keycard panel of a door across the hall. It only took a few seconds - he looked at the screwdriver, seemed satisfied with the results, and nimbly dashed into the airlock as the thick steel doors automatically clanged shut. Blasts of cold air hosed down from above, ruffling their hair and clothes, and filled the space with loud, harsh hissing. The air died down. Then, nothing.

"Now what?" asked an Amy, her voice echoing from the thick steel walls.

"The chamber door won't open until the gas is removed," said Rory. "We need wait for the room to clear."

A deafening pounding battered against the airlock door - angry, powerful fists hammered into the metal. All four backed away as much as the confined space would allow, pressing themselves against the far end of the room.

"Well, it'd better hurry up," said the other Amy. "Because someone's not happy."

"Joseph," the Doctor said simply - more to himself than the others. "Look at what you've become."

Bang, bang, bang! The noise continued, and despite its strength, the door started to move inward with each pounding. Both Amys screamed.

"Doctor, do something!"

He didn't respond - and he didn't need to, for as if on cue, the opposing airlock door slid open into the white-walled gas chamber, its air cleaned of all poisons. The four scrambled inside and raced towards the TARDIS, but immediately noticed the Ood body crumpled in the middle of the floor. They stopped, the sight putting immediate lead weights in their shoes - the Doctor in particular. There was no mistaking it: a dead body, born from his decision, born from their needs. Their priorities, deemed more important than the life of another.

There was no mistaking that.

Gingerly, and with as much respect as the situation could allow, Rory and the two Amys toed their way around the body and stood at the doors of the TARDIS. The Doctor, however, slowly kneeled and put a hand to the Ood's head. Noticing its eyes were still open, staring up into glassy nothingness, he gently closed them shut. It wouldn't absolve his actions - the Doctor clearly knew that. Perhaps nothing would. But he also knew he had to—