MISSING IN ACTION
Chapter 9 "Margatha?" Amy asked, as she followed the pacing alien woman up and down the corridor outside the security office, "Why does Altaar have trouble pronouncing the Doctor's name? You don't seem to have that problem. Did he have a stroke or something?" "I have sometimes thought of that, myself." She confided. In the past twenty minutes, Margatha had begun to almost like this human. Too bad Amy was a friend of the Doctor's. There were few Temporals left whom were close to her own age. It felt nice to talk about trivial matters with someone who could relate to such things. Mostly, when she was forced to mix in social settings, she could not speak openly. Like others of her race, she was committed to obey the stiff and restrictive rules of polite conversation, which those of Altaar's generation imposed on everyone. That is, if she wished to keep her highly prized position as his personal aide. Margatha's thoughts turned to Altaar. She'd been his aide for several months now, but still felt like she hardly knew him. Though a friend of her late father's, Margatha had never met him until after the Howling had taken her family. Altaar was like some elderly relation one heard spoken of in the family, that no one had seen in years, who suddenly popped in for a long visit. "He has no speech impediment that I'm aware of, Amy. It is only the Doctor's name he has difficulty speaking. Perhaps, it is some mental defect? Before the Howling came, I was studying inter-species psychology at university. He might have difficulty saying the name out of some unconscious fear. Or, it could be that Altaar hates the Doctor so much, he can hardly speak his name. Well I know that kind of hate." "Why do you hate the Doctor? You've never even met him until he came here." Amy asked her. "At the Doctor's bidding, the Time Lord's took my ancestors and stranded them on a primitive planet. The home of the Howling. How we awakened it, I do not know. The Howling took my family. At university that day, they canceled all classes. I stood with all my classmates in front of the vid-screen in the dining hall and watched everyone in my village die. My family, my neighbours, my friends. Nearly everyone I knew. And none of this would've happened if the Doctor had just turned his back and walked away." Margatha said bitterly, grinding her fist into her other hand. "Maybe not. If the Doctor's right about what they tried to do, then none of us would exist now, because your ancestors tried to destroy time." Amy reasoned. "Altaar says it was just a few rebellious young Temporal's who were causing the trouble, and that the Inner Council would've stopped them without the Time Lord's interference." "Hold on." Amy said, stopping in mid-stride. "If Altaar hates the Doctor so much, then why..." "Farrrr—out!" Came the Doctor's highly excited voice from the security room. "By George, John, Paul and Ringo, I think I've finally got it!" Amy and Margatha scooted into the room to see what the Doctor was on about. He was kneeling on the floor, the sonic screwdriver in his mouth, and a handful of delicate looking multi-colured wires dangling in his right hand, and a single, thicker wire leading from the Dalek shell in his left. The door to the shielding machinery was open, and that's where the delicate wires came from. There were desks pushed aside, a chair was tipped over and papers were scattered everywhere. "What's going on?" Margatha asked. "I'm really glad I'm not the janitor here." Amy said, leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed, eyeballing the disorderly room. "You know, Doctor. You should have someone walking behind you, with a bin and a broom, like they do after the horses have gone past in a parade." "Quiet, Amy. I'm about to connect the sub-binary coaxial cable to the multi-dimensional stabilizer circuits, thereby reversing the polarity of the neutron flow into the main shield core. Very delicate operation." "Er—right." Amy nodded wisely, not having a clue what the Doctor was on about. "That should not only get the shielding back online, it should also increase its strength and range by...um—quite a lot." The Doctor flashed her a wild grin. "Wasn't sure I could manage this...actually, still not sure, but you can't have coffee without grinding a few beans, ey? I just need to patch a couple of these wires into the cable, and Bobs yer uncle. I mean, if you have an uncle named Bob. Do you have an uncle named Bob, Amy? We once knew an angel named Bob, didn't we? Oh, and you both might want to stand back a ways. About five hundred yards ought to do it." "And all that technobabble you just spouted means what, exactly?" Amy asked curiously. "Either I'll get the shielding up and running, or there'll be one helluva' big bang." The Doctor shrugged. "But, if it explodes you'll be instantly vaporized!" Margatha said. "There you are, Margatha. Always looking on the bright side of things." He shrugged again. "Good thing I've got a great life insurance policy, then. Tailor's and Undertaker's Insurance Agency. With them, I'm completely covered." "Doctor, about Altaar. I'm not so sure you should..." Amy started to say, then looked down at the floor with a puzzled expression. Why was the floor vibrating? Without warning, the walls began shaking. Ceiling tiles fell and sparks began to fly from the overhead lighting fixtures. White smoke began to seep through the room. The Doctor looked up at the ceiling. "Knock-knock!" He said. "What's going on, Doctor?" Amy shouted. "Take your pick, Amy. A. I was about to tell a joke, or B., the Howling is paying us a visit." "We're doomed!" Margatha cried out hoarsely, backing away and cowering into a corner. "That's the spirit!" The Doctor called out to her., as his fingers nimbly sorted delicate wires, looking for the right one's. "Though I was rather expecting you to scream and say 'We're all going to die!' So four points there for originality." As the shaking became more violent, the Doctor worked frantically to get the wires and cable hooked up. Dancing and dodging falling debris like a whirling dervish, he suddenly jammed the end of the cable into a coupling inside the shielding apparatus. With a loud humming noise and a flashing of lights, the machine sprang to life. Abruptly, the shaking stopped. "Is—is it gone?" Margatha whimpered. She was knelt down beside a fallen desk chair, glancing around nervously. Amy bent down and helped the young alien woman to her feet. "It's OK, it's OK, Margatha." She said softly, "We're safe." She looked compassionately into the woman's eyes, realizing for the first time that Margatha was young to have seen so much death. "Safe? Safe!" The Doctor spluttered. "I'll have you know that is one of the most boring and overused four-letter words in the English language. Well, that and Fu—" "Frustrating! That's what you can be sometimes, Doctor!" Amy interrupted. "The thing is, though, we are alright for the moment, aren't we?" She said pointedly, her arms around Margatha, staring down the Doctor, mentally willing him to to be more understanding of the young woman's fears. "There's only one way to find out. And that's to have a look outside." The Doctor suggested mildly, for once taking the hint. He nodded towards a bank of video monitors. "Come on, Margatha." He said, holding out his hand and gently guiding her over to the surveillance station. " Let's see if this worked." The Doctor punched up a picture of the planet's barren surface outside. There was the Howling, throwing itself ineffectually against the green glowing shielding protecting the dome. The roiling tornado tilted itself back and hovered a short way away from the dome, as if puzzled by this new development. Then, out of the blue, the image went black. In its place, a somewhat contrasting one came over the screen. It was another view of the landscape outside the protective dome of the mining complex. Only, this one was markedly different. In the image on the screen were two space suited figures. They were sitting on the stony floor of a small valley, with their backs propped up against a large boulder. The pair were bound with ropes and one seemed to be struggling to get free. This new camera angle was suddenly zoomed in on a close up on the helmeted faces of the two. Amy gasped. It was Rory and River Song.
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