My Rival, My Doctor

Chapter 11

"Soon, the sun will blossom into a red giant, and my home will die," Cassandra told Rose and me, "That's where I used to live, when I was a little boy, down there. Mummy and Daddy had a little house built into the side of the Los Angeles Crevice. I'd have such fun." I nodded, not even pausing at her mentioning being a boy. All I could think about was the Doctor and what he was doing.

"What happened to everyone else?" Rose asked, "The human race, where did it go?"

"They say mankind has touched every star in the sky."

"So, you're not the last human," she tried to understand.

"I am the last pure human," Cassandra corrected. Her voice became distasteful. "The others mingled. Oh, they call themselves New humans and Proto-humans and Digi-humans, even 'Humanish', but you know what I call them? Mongrels." I nodded again, uncomfortable in the fact of her existence.

"Right. And you stayed behind."

"I kept myself pure."

I couldn't resist, so I smirked and asked in a slight mocking tone, "How many operations have you had?"

"Seven hundred and eight," Cassandra answered proudly, "Next week, it's seven hundred and nine. I'm having my blood bleached. Is that why you wanted a word? You could be flatter, Rose. And Celeste you've got a little bit of a chin poking out."

"You've got no bones left in your 'body'," I muttered. First, someone accuses me of prostitution, now someone wants me to get plastic surgery.

"I'd rather die," Rose said.

"Honestly, it doesn't hurt."

"No, I mean it," she assured a bit louder, "I would rather die."

"It's better to die than live like you, a bitchy trampoline," I spat.

"Oh, well," She sputtered, "What do you know."

Rose was mad. "I was born on that planet, and so was my mum, and so was my dad, and that makes me officially the last human being in this room, 'cos you're not human. You've had it all nipped and tucked and flattened till there's nothing left. Anything human got chucked in the bin. You're just skin, Cassandra. Lipstick and skin. Nice talking." I grimaced and followed her.

"Rose, that wasn't smart whatsoever," I warned. We went down a hallway, seemingly empty.

"I don't care," she retorted, "That sheet of skin is so inhuman." The Adherents appeared in front of us and before I could excuse us, something crashed over my head and knocked me out.

The computerized voice was back, but instead of telling us when the death of the Earth is, it barked, "Sun filter descending. Sun filter descending." Rose and I both woke up with a start and saw the blinding lights. I started pounding on the door and Rose joined in. "Let us out!" she started screaming.

From the outside, the Doctor called, "Anyone in there?"

"Let us out!"

"Oh, well, it would be you. Who else?" the Doctor asked.

I snapped again, "Who do you think?"

"Open the door!"

"Hold on," he assured, "Give us two ticks." The rays from outside reached the top of the door and the computer kept saying, "Sun filter descending."

"Sun filter rising. Sun filter rising." The rays started going up and away from Rose and me.

"Sun filter descending." Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

"The computer's getting clever," the Doctor called.

"Well, maybe you should get us out!" I suggested sarcastically, "And stop mucking about!"