And she's right. Someone's gone to a lot of trouble to collect all these relics and store them here. He looks a little farther down the row of cases and sees something that freezes his blood.
A Cyberman's head.
Like the ones he stared into before he found Milliways. He spares a moment to miss his friends there... his family. How long has it been since he left? He can't remember anymore.
"I'm getting old," he concludes, staring at one of his deadliest enemies reduced to a museum exhibit. He puts a hand on the case, wondering idly if this was one he destroyed in one of his many frays with them. How would he know, after all?
An alarm goes off at the contact, and they're suddenly surrounded and ushered up to the office of Henry van Statten, professional git, apparently. Actually, as he listens a little longer, he realizes his mistake. The man is a professional collector; he's just a git as a hobby. And now he's captured a living alien, which explains the distress signal. Anyone would be in distress having to spend more than a few minutes in the company of this little twit.
The Doctor demands to see it, and van Statten happily complies, eager to show off his find. He's shown to an enormous vault -- no, prison cell -- and moves into the dark room, scowling when the door shuts behind him.
"I'm here to help," he calls out across the space. "I'm the Doctor."
no subject
A Cyberman's head.
Like the ones he stared into before he found Milliways. He spares a moment to miss his friends there... his family. How long has it been since he left? He can't remember anymore.
"I'm getting old," he concludes, staring at one of his deadliest enemies reduced to a museum exhibit. He puts a hand on the case, wondering idly if this was one he destroyed in one of his many frays with them. How would he know, after all?
An alarm goes off at the contact, and they're suddenly surrounded and ushered up to the office of Henry van Statten, professional git, apparently. Actually, as he listens a little longer, he realizes his mistake. The man is a professional collector; he's just a git as a hobby. And now he's captured a living alien, which explains the distress signal. Anyone would be in distress having to spend more than a few minutes in the company of this little twit.
The Doctor demands to see it, and van Statten happily complies, eager to show off his find. He's shown to an enormous vault -- no, prison cell -- and moves into the dark room, scowling when the door shuts behind him.
"I'm here to help," he calls out across the space. "I'm the Doctor."