The Jailhouse Scene 7: Escape
“Take my hand,” she offered. “Just give me directions and I’ll guide us there.”
The Doctor could see better than she realized, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. He had no trouble finding her hand; without the visible spectrum overwhelming it, he could see the heat of her body.
“I know it’s down three levels,” he said, “but I didn’t access the floor plans. I don’t know where the stairs are.”
“This way,” she said, pressing his hand to indicate the direction. As they walked, she spoke softly over her comlink, letting the other rebels know the new plan.
The faint glow of the emergency lights in the stairway, arrows pointing up toward the exit, was more than either of them needed to navigate safely. They hurried down the three flights. He could hear the hum of the cooling system in the main computer room, but they made a few wrong turns before actually finding the entrance.
The glow of the main console was almost painfully bright in the surrounding darkness. The Doctor rushed to it and began to hack his way in. Meanwhile, Camille found a microphone and switched it on.
“Greetings, prisoners,” she announced. “I am happy to inform you that rebel forces are about to switch off all restraints and unlock all your cells. For those of you who have customers at the moment, I respectfully suggest that you not waste time attacking them on your way out. Simply step out into the halls, and rebel soldiers will guide you to the exits. Thank you and have a nice day.”
The Doctor was laughing out loud by the time she finished her speech. Seconds later, he shut down all the security systems, wholesale.
“Time to go,” he told her. He let her guide him again, as much to keep her close and safe as to hide the fact that he didn’t need the help.
She kept in touch with her compatriots, monitoring their progress even as she made her own escape. They had to hide a few times; the guards had night-vision glasses. But when they made it to the main level, it was bedlam. All they had to do was blend into the crowd pushing its way out. Now the Doctor did need Camille’s help, because he couldn’t see the difference between prisoners and guards, and if they got too close to a guard, they could be knocked out and recaptured. At last they made it to the streets, which were even more chaotic as innocent shoppers and gamblers ran for cover in the flood. The police had just about given up.
“I’ll take you to a safehouse,” Camille suggested.
“No,” he insisted, “I don’t want to face your crew again. I just need to get out. Let’s go somewhere quiet for a moment, then I’ll work my way back to my… vehicle.”
She nodded, a little sadly. “I understand. If this weren’t my home, I’d want to leave as quickly as possible, too.” She paused on an empty walkway near the sun side of the dome, leaning against the railing. “I never thanked you for saving me,” she said.
“Of course you did,” he laughed. “Just not in words.”
“Well, thank you in words,” she smiled. “But that wasn’t the only reason I came back for you. You didn’t just help me; you helped all of us. Your sonic device gave us a way in, and your defiance gave me the courage to convince the others to go for it.”
“You still went after me first,” he pointed out. “Why? I understand why you wanted to rescue me; gratitude is a powerful force. What I don’t get is why you were so worried about me.”
“You seemed so sweet, so innocent,” she sighed, taking his hand. “I couldn’t bear the thought of her damaging that.”
“You really mean that?” He looked her in the eyes, and he could almost make out his reflection.
“Yes,” she insisted, eyes misting. “I knew she wouldn’t settle for just torturing your body; she wanted to break your soul. She was using you for revenge, because she was raped by a doctor. When she took him to court, it was her word against his, and of course, they believed him.”
“I thought it was something like that,” he nodded. “But you’re wrong; she didn’t want revenge. She thought she did, and the harder I fought, the more I encouraged that belief, but the truth was she wanted to be healed. And I could have done it, if…”
“If I hadn’t interrupted you,” Camille finished.
“Or if I’d given in sooner,” he sighed. “But I was afraid. I was so afraid of how she could hurt me that I never thought how she’d been hurt. All of us, we get stuck looking at the surface. Even me. You, Camille… you accept people for what they are, and that’s good, but even better is to see them for what they could be. You’ll be a great leader someday, when you learn to trust.”
“I think that will take a long time,” she said.
“It might,” he agreed, “but it’ll be worth it.” He didn’t mention that he was still working on it himself. “Good luck.”
She watched him as he walked away, and it occurred to her that if she could care so much for a complete stranger, she could certainly learn to trust the people she knew.
The Doctor didn’t look back until he had turned a corner; he couldn’t let her see. Camille was something special, but she wasn’t for him. It wasn’t that she was so violent; after all, she wouldn’t be the first. It was that she needed to be here, on her own world. Saving it was the only way she would heal.
He continued on, mulling things over in his head. Was he really still innocent? He was guilty of so much horror; he’d caused so much death, and lost so much that he’d cared for. And yet, Tirlene had seen into his soul and still found joy. Life still held its attraction.
As he guided the Tardis away, he was certain of one thing: he needed to find a companion.Scene Selection
1. Delavega 5. Break-in 2. Room Twelve 6. Rescue 3. Sentencing 7. Escape 4. Testing Commentary