The Time of Change

Prisoner Zero Has Escaped

Suddenly, a loud voice rocks the entire building.

"Prisoner Zero has escaped. Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence, or the human residence will be incinerated. Repeat: Prisoner Zero has escaped. Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence, or the human residence will be incinerated."

I whip around to the Doctor. He's staring at the ceiling, listening closely to the unearthly announcement. It seems to be on a continuous loop that does not decrease in volume or speed. People start to scream and sprint out of the ballroom. The Doctor, on the other hand, makes a path toward the furthest wall at the back. I follow. It takes me a moment to get my balance in my heels, but I reach his side just as he skids to a stop at the back wall, where a lopsided glowing crack splits the brick in two.

It looks like it's smiling, almost. Somewhere deep inside, some creepy white-blue light shines and splashes over the floor. The Doctor looks at it for a moment before pulling out the sonic screwdriver. He clicks it on, and it whirs as he draws it over the crack. "Can you hear anything?" he asks me without turning. I listen, and my skin crawls before I even recognize what I'm hearing.

Something is whispering.

"I think it's coming from inside the crack." My voice breaks away. He spins on his heel, the sonic suspended between his hands, and glares at it over his shoulder. "Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey," he says in a rush. I raise my eyebrows, taken aback by the vague familiarity of the phrase. "You know what this is?" he inquires of me. I shake my head, and he turns back to the wall.

"It's a crack."

I almost laugh with relief, but he starts talking again. "But the thing about this crack is if you knock down this wall, the crack will still be there. Because it isn't in the wall. It's in everything. It's a rip in the fabric of time and space." He presses the side of his face against the stone wall, running a finger over the edge of the shining break. Then he springs backward, points the sonic at it, and presses the button on the side.

The crack bursts open so that it takes up the entire wall. I jump back, and the Doctor steps in front of me, shielding me from the view of whatever may be within. After a pause, I touch his arm gently and move to stand next to him. "Hello?" he calls, unafraid as he glances sideways at me.

A giant eyeball fills the crack, the pupil dilating to focus on us. Its deep gray iris darts back and forth between us. The Doctor exclaims in surprise and presses down on the button once more. The crack completely disappears, as does the light it produced, leaving no trace of its presence.

"What was that?" I ask, eyes wide.

"I think that was Prisoner Zero's guard," he replies.

My body stiffens. If that was Prisoner Zero's guard, then Prisoner Zero is sure to give us a run for our money. "Doctor," I say uncertainly as a thought comes to me, "it said 'the human residence will be incinerated.' It it just meant this building, right? Not the whole planet?"

He looks at me with shock and fear in his eyes, and I'm momentarily stunned. Have I finally said something that he hadn't already thought of? "They've got to have a whole fleet up there in space, then," I keep going, pressing a finger to my lips as I think. "Because just one carrier ship, like this prison that Prisoner Zero escaped from, won't be able to destroy the planet all on its own."

His eyes get wider. He glances at the blank wall, then at his feet, then back up at me. "Well" I say a bit breathlessly, taking his silence to indicate my being right. "It would take a normal human-made ship six hours to get through the atmosphere and to the surface. In theory, an alien ship should take a fraction of that amount. I'd say we have about ten minutes to save the world from incineration."

In a flash he grabs my hand, and we're running out of the building into the deserted snowy street. Several feet off, a woman is in hysterics as she tries to move a man next to her, but he stands perfectly still. I notice a moment later that he is staring at us.

"Geoffrey, please!" the lady begs him. "Tell me how you got home later. Just please come! It is not safe now! Come!" The bald man apparently named Geoffrey does not budge.

The Doctor calls, "Excuse me, miss, but I think you should go home now."

She glares at him. "Not without my husband!"

The Doctor walks a little closer, stopping a respectable distance away. "Where was he, ma'am? You said he'd tell you how he got home. Where was Geoffrey before now?"

The woman looks kind of conflicted, but like everyone, she opens up to him. "He was in a hospital in lower London," she explains with a worried glance at the man. With my attention mostly on her husband as she gives us this information, I see now that the man is not watching both of us: his eyes have only followed the Doctor's movements.

"Why was he in a hospital?"

"He had head trauma, then went into a coma. He's been that way for two months. Nobody told me he was awake."

"That's because he isn't," the Doctor tells her. She takes a step back, and I look between the two of them. "Your husband is still asleep," he says calmly, attempting to soothe her fear. "He is still in a hospital, far away from here. This is not him." Fresh snow begins to fall as his words sink in.

"I would be damned if some stranger will tell me who my husband is and is not!" she snaps. I can tell she isn't angry; she's afraid.

"Please," I interject quietly. "Just listen to him. He knows what he's talking about."

He casts me a grateful smile and continues, "This man isn't even a man at all. You must trust me. Leave and go home. Everything be alright. Help your children prepare for Christmas tomorrow."

Her resolve is breached at the mention of children. I don't know how he could have possibly known she has a family, but instinct tells me he guessed and hit the jackpot. The woman, whose name we never learned, looks one last time at the man to her right before turning and starting back down the street. Her steps leave hollow imprints in the snow as she retreats.

I look at the Doctor, and he looks at the man. "Is that him?" I whisper. "Prisoner Zero?" A scuffling behind me draws my attention for a millisecond, but I keep my eyes trained on the Doctor.

"Yes," he says. I don't ask him how he is so sure. I just gaze apprehensively at the stock-still figure, his stare not leaving the Doctor. A dog trots idly to his side, and growling issues from the pair, only it isn't coming from the animal. The sound comes from the man himself. Goosebumps rise on my skin, half from the cold and half from the scene unfolding in front of me. He barks in a flawless impression of the Doberman at his feet, and the dog speaks.

"Clever physician," it says in a scratchy tone.

The Doctor cocks his head up slightly. "Having trouble sorting out your voices there?" He sounds amused.

The dog clears its throat, and the same voice comes out of the man now. "It's so tedious to have to take different forms," he complains.

The Doctor replies sharply, "To the people whose lives you're stealing, I'm sure it is, too. I know how you work. You need a living but complacent mind, so the perfect target is someone who is comatose."

"That's just for convenience," the alien chuckles. His eyes shift to me for the first time, and all of the sudden it feels as if my brain is on fire. I clutch at my head, my knees buckling, and the world goes black.