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Sacrifice	By : Lady_Gemini Category: 1 through F > Doctor Who Views: 1403 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Lady_Gemini does not own Doctor Who or Torchwood. Lady_Gemini does not make any money from this fiction.

Chapter List
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“Amy? Where did that bottle of Ibuprofen go? I’ve got this pounding headache.”
“Oh, sorry, I used it all up… it’s that week.”
“Yeah, I know that week, why do you think I have a headache?”
Amy affectionately threw a pillow at Rory’s face.
“You know, that’s shockingly unhelpful.”
Before Amy could fire back the couple heard the Doctor’s voice calling to them from the control room.
“Are you two going to stay in bed all morning? We have places to go, civilizations to discover, a whole universe of potential and you two are RUINING IT!”
. . . . .
Amy led the way into the TARDIS control room, skipping down the stairs in her brown cowboy boots and denim shorts. The clip-clop rattled throughout the room, the girl had all the grace of a drunken Shetland pony.
“Alright, Doctor, where are we going today?”
“Actually, I was going to let you decide, Ah! Rory! Decided to join us I see!”
Rory followed Amy down the stairs. “What’s this about us deciding where we’re going?”
“Well, if I could draw your attention to the control panel, you’ll see a big, yellow button. Not just any big, yellow button, no, this big, yellow button triggers a randomizer that generates a random 17 digit number, which then gets plugged into an algorithm I’ve programmed into the TARDIS guidance system, thus selecting a random set of coordinates and a random time for the TARDIS to materialize. Cool, huh? Rory, you look troubled.”
“Sort of… hang on. Isn’t the vast majority of space empty? Won’t we probably just end up in, well, dark space?”
“Good thinking Rory! But no, I’ve programmed the TARDIS to lock on to the nearest available habitable planet from the generated coordinates and land there. It’s like spinning your finger on a globe and going wherever your finger ends up, unless it ends up in the ocean, in which case you just move it to the nearest coast.”
“That is so cool! Letting the fates decide where we go, come on Rory, I want to press it!” Amy gushed. Being on the verge of a new destination always brought out her inner excitable school girl. Rory melted at his wife’s enthusiasm.
“Can we at least track down some pain killers first?”
. . . . .
The TARDIS shuddered to a stop. Rory and Amy had pressed the button together, after Rory abashedly swallowed a handful of expired Midol that had been left behind by Donna. His headache was almost completely lifted and he was almost as excited as Amy was to see their new destination. Amy’s enthusiasm, however, was unmatchable. She ran to the monitor to look out at where they had landed before being gently shouldered out of the way by the Doctor.
“It looks like an 80% nitrogen, 18% oxygen atmosphere, perfectly breathable but a little lower in oxygen than Earth so don’t over-exert yourself. There seems to be a bit more carbon monoxide and carbon dioxide in the air than on Earth as well, which is strange because, well, take a look.”
He tilted the monitor so that Amy and Rory could see the image displayed. They had appeared to have landed in the middle of an agrarian community. They could see farms, cattle and in the distance a tree-line.
“Readings would be more consistent with a large city with a significant amount of pollution –“
He stopped short because Amy was already opening the door.
“You said breathable, I’m going to go check it out, you boys can stay and stare at the screen all day if you want.”
Rory and The Doctor shot each other a brief look before hurrying after Amy. Outside she was facing the TARDIS, awestruck at the scene behind it. The two men followed her gaze and saw the apparent cause of the polluted atmosphere.
About fifty meters from where the trio stood was a line of hedges, and just beyond were the burned-out ruins of a city large enough to rival New New York.
“Wow,” gasped Amy.
“Yeah,” agreed Rory.
“Hey you!” called a voice from behind them, “What are you doing in my field? And what’s that thing squashing my beans?”
The trio turned around to see a bewildered man running towards them. He looked human enough. He stood at about 5’10” with greying hair. His face was wrinkled; he appeared to be about 55 or 60 years old. They glanced at the TARDIS and sure enough, it had destroyed a small patch of crops.
“Ah, terribly sorry about that! I’m the Doctor and these are my traveling companions Amy and Rory. We seem to have taken a wrong turning would you be so kind as to tell us where we are?”
“You folks ain’t from around here.” It wasn’t a question.
“No, my companions are from Earth and I’m just a traveler. This is my ship,” he said motioning to the TARDIS.
“Never seen a ship like that before. Well, come on, I’ve got a map inside the house, let’s see if I can get you folks going in the right…” he trailed off looking past the three visitors towards the hedge at the border of his land. The three companions turned around and saw two extremely out-of-place looking men riding what appeared to be segways headed straight towards them. They were dressed unmistakably like law enforcement officers and had firearms holstered at their waists.
“Well hello there! Let me introduce myself, I’m the Doctor-“
                                                                                                                                      “Who are these people in your field Conrad?” The shorter of the two officers addressed the farmer directly, cutting off The Doctor’s statement entirely.
“They say they’re travelers and got lost. I was about to bring them inside and see if I can’t get them where they’re going.”
“Now excuse me!” interjected The Doctor indignantly, “I was trying to explain-“
                                                                                                                                                           “Well don’t forget about the ceremony tonight.” Again, the officer cut the Doctor off mid-sentence. “You should bring your friends, if they’re going to stay awhile they’re going to want to be there, otherwise they’ll have to wait an entire year till the next one.”
With that, the officer’s drove off.
“Ceremony?” inquired Amy. “Some kind of party is it?”
Conrad breathed out a sigh. “Not exactly.”
. . . . .
“So, after the Six Years Drought that devastated the land the city descended into chaos. Riots broke out in the streets, street gangs set up road blocks to steal food from passing trucks, thousands began to starve, and only the men with the biggest weapons were unscathed. Eventually the military stepped in, tried to enforce martial law, but people fear starving to death just as much as they fear getting shot so there was no real way to enforce any kind of order against an enemy that was everyone. The bottom line was, there wasn’t enough food to feed everyone, and some people were going to end up starving no matter what.”
Conrad was driving a wagon, pulled by two sturdy workhorses. Amy was sitting next to him, Rory and The Doctor were in the back with Conrad’s three sons. Conrad had insisted on giving the lady the better seat. Rory was attentively listening in on the conversation in the front of the wagon. The Doctor was animatedly conversing with one of the younger sons towards the back of the wagon.
“That sounds awful,” breathed Amy, empathic tears welling up in her eyes. “How long ago was this?”
“Oh, about fifty years. I was just a tyke back then, don’t remember much, just what my folks told me.”
“So that’s how the city came to be destroyed? The riots?”
“No. The government saw what was happening, and saw that if left to simmer then eventually the only survivors would be the most lawless, the most brutal, and the most evil. They did what they had to do.”
“I don’t understand.”
“They bombed it themselves, didn’t they?” Rory spoke up from the back seat.
“That’s right. They secretly evacuated what people they knew would be necessary to keep the world moving, farmers, doctors, military-men. They brought us out here, and then leveled the city. With most of the people dead there was no more fighting over resources, and we were able to rebuild, live off the land, just like the Gods intended.”
“But, all those people!” Amy was shaking, whether with sadness or anger she could not know.
“So, about the Ceremony that you're taking us to, what does it have to do with all of this?” asked Rory.
“Every year we have a celebration, we thank the Gods for our continued survival, we celebrate that we were chosen to live on, and we pledge our loyalty to those laws that keep us alive.”
“And attendance is mandatory I assume.” Rory had a habit of asking questions that he already knew the answer to.
. . . . .
“Doctor,” Rory hissed when Conrad was attending to his horses, “I get a bad feeling from this whole situation. Perhaps we should just go back to the TARDIS and leave.” They had arrived at an amphitheater capable of seating about 600 people.
“Oh Rory, where’s your sense of adventure? Not that you need a sense of adventure, we’re about to watch a show! I love shows. Little Brian was telling me how much he loves going to the show every year, they have dances and fireworks, everyone loves fireworks, don’t you love fireworks?”
“But don’t things seem a little off?” Amy joined the conversation. “I mean, they destroyed an entire city of their own people.”
“No they didn’t. The people in charge fifty years ago did. Most of these people weren’t even alive, and those that were certainly weren’t making the decisions. It’s not their fault that their parents were chosen to survive.”
“But this whole mandatory attendance thing, it’s strange.”
“Throughout most of the history of your own country attendance was mandatory at church every Sunday. It’s just a different culture is all. Come along then, we can leave after the show.”
“Don’t you mean ceremony?” Amy mumbled but followed obediently.
. . . . .
Within the first fifteen minutes of the ceremony Amy and Rory’s concerns were wiped away. The spectacle before them was breathtaking. There were dancers, acrobats and even an impressive display of pyrotechnics. Conrad explained from time to time what certain symbols meant, for example, the woman walking unharmed through a lake of fire, which symbolized the deliverance of all present from the fire-bombing of the original city.
A hush fell over the crowd and the trio felt tension rising in the air. It was clear that the grand finale was about to begin. Silently, four military men in dress-uniforms of pitch black walked to the middle of the field. They carried firearms with blades on the end that looked remarkably similar to Earth bayonets. The four men stood facing each other and began to throw their weapons into the air, flipping and catching them with perfectly timed precision, each catch making a synchronized kathunk.
“Wait a second, I recognize this. This looks like the American Military’s honor guard routine,” whispered Rory. “Watch, any second they’re going to bring out a fifth person.”
Sure enough, the men paused and stood facing each other as a young girl of about fourteen walked to the middle of the field. The men stood in a circle around her and began to twirl and throw their weapons again, points coming within inches of her head. The trio wanted to applaud, but due to the silence of the rest of the stadium they remained still for fear of somehow tripping up the performers.
As the routine drew to a close the men walked around the girl, stood in a line in front of her, and made one more pass, thrusting their weapons straight at her, stopping just a fraction of an inch from her skin. She did not even blink. The stood for a moment, weapons pointed at her, and then it rang out, splitting the silence.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Four shots. In rapid succession. Three to the chest, one to the head. A military-style assassination.
The girl slumped over.
The ceremony was complete.
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Sacrifice