Headquarters
Order of the Silence Military Sect (DR)
Office of the Papal Mainframe
DATE TRANSLATION: 10 September 2012
ENTRY NO: 15-11-19-70
SUBJECT: Narrative Report of Operations, Kovarian Chapter, Date REDACTED (GREGORIAN CALENDAR TRANSLATED TO: 04-10-12)
TO: Office of the Mother Superious. Papal Mainframe
1. Three aircrafts of the Kovarian Chapter, including the Concord Well, took off with one aborting (SEE FILE: DEMONS RUN), leaving a total of one-hundred and thirty soldiers and seventy scientists. Course plotted for 24th safehouse in the Sapani Cluster.
2. The group proceeded without difficulty and rendezvoused with the Silence to acquire the Girl. The rendezvous was successful and the Chapter proceeded to leave the Dragon Nebula for the asteroid beyond Samos. We left without any complications and were keeping to the predicted time frame.
3. However, midway through our journey, our ships came under heavy fire from a Dark Horde fleet, equipped with a state-of-the-art pulsar cannon. Their assault blindsided us and destroyed two of our ships, forcing the remaining crew to crash land onto the nearest designated planet and enter cryogenic sleep. Once the first wave awoke, we conducted an investigation to determine the condition of the Concord Well. There was minor structural damage, but it was easily salvageable.
4. After a quick debriefing with our commander (SEE FILE: KOVARIAN, REDACTED), we were alerted to a hostile presence and took action immediately. A stakeout was implemented, and we discovered a human girl hiding in the hallway. Before we could interrogate her for any useful information, the girl’s accomplices arrived to retrieve her, with the Child in tow. The trespassers displayed hostile intent, and neutralised the crew with technology unfamiliar to their time period.
5. The trespassers escaped before any further information could be gleaned. The Concord Well was subsequently hacked into and an unwarranted course was plotted back into space. The setback was merely temporary, and the Kovarian Chapter continues to be dedicated to their mission. Silence will fall.
R. Manton, 60-30-02-06
Order of the Silence Military Sect (DR)
Office of the Papal Mainframe
DATE TRANSLATION: 10 September 2012
ENTRY NO: 15-11-19-70
SUBJECT: Narrative Report of Operations, Kovarian Chapter, Date REDACTED (GREGORIAN CALENDAR TRANSLATED TO: 04-10-12)
TO: Office of the Mother Superious. Papal Mainframe
1. Three aircrafts of the Kovarian Chapter, including the Concord Well, took off with one aborting (SEE FILE: DEMONS RUN), leaving a total of one-hundred and thirty soldiers and seventy scientists. Course plotted for 24th safehouse in the Sapani Cluster.
2. The group proceeded without difficulty and rendezvoused with the Silence to acquire the Girl. The rendezvous was successful and the Chapter proceeded to leave the Dragon Nebula for the asteroid beyond Samos. We left without any complications and were keeping to the predicted time frame.
3. However, midway through our journey, our ships came under heavy fire from a Dark Horde fleet, equipped with a state-of-the-art pulsar cannon. Their assault blindsided us and destroyed two of our ships, forcing the remaining crew to crash land onto the nearest designated planet and enter cryogenic sleep. Once the first wave awoke, we conducted an investigation to determine the condition of the Concord Well. There was minor structural damage, but it was easily salvageable.
4. After a quick debriefing with our commander (SEE FILE: KOVARIAN, REDACTED), we were alerted to a hostile presence and took action immediately. A stakeout was implemented, and we discovered a human girl hiding in the hallway. Before we could interrogate her for any useful information, the girl’s accomplices arrived to retrieve her, with the Child in tow. The trespassers displayed hostile intent, and neutralised the crew with technology unfamiliar to their time period.
5. The trespassers escaped before any further information could be gleaned. The Concord Well was subsequently hacked into and an unwarranted course was plotted back into space. The setback was merely temporary, and the Kovarian Chapter continues to be dedicated to their mission. Silence will fall.
R. Manton, 60-30-02-06
The park was eerily quiet. Save for the gentle lapping of water from the nearby pond and the distant rumble of thunder, there was nothing. She was expecting an owl, or a squirrel, but there wasn’t even a rustle.
Shaking it off, Sarah Jane stuffed her hands into her coat pockets and hurried up the worn stone steps. Once she reached the top, she stopped to admire her surroundings. A building loomed imposingly up ahead, shrouded by the darkness. It was probably a spectacular sight in the daylight.
Her boots crunched on the wet grass as she crossed the distance to the entrance, and knocked on the door. As she waited patiently, her eyes scanned over her surroundings once again, ultimately resting on a pair of stone eagle heads perched on identical pedestals opposite the doorstep, glaring unnervingly into the distance like a pair of silent guard dogs. A slim crack travelled along the junction between the head and neck. Sarah Jane ran a finger along the jagged surface, when the door opened marginally.
A man tentatively poked his head out. “Yes?” His voice trembled as he spoke, his bespectacled eyes wide and fixed on her.
Sarah Jane smiled to soothe his nerves. “Professor Rutledge? We have an appointment?”
The man — Professor Rutledge — frowned. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. “Oh, yes, you must be Miss Smith.”
“Call me Sarah Jane,” she told him sweetly.
Professor Rutledge flushed a deep shade of pink. “Of course. Please, c-come in.” He pulled the door further ajar to allow her in.
“Thank you.” Sarah Jane crossed the threshold, glancing over her shoulder as Professor Rutledge closed the door behind them, and spun around to face her.
“What can I do for you, Miss...?”
“Smith,” Sarah Jane reminded him. “We had an appointment?”
Professor Rutledge furrowed his brow. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. “Oh… yes, that’s right. This way, please.”
Sarah Jane lingered for a moment. Deciding it was best to remain prepared, she pulled out her sonic lipstick and zapped the entrance lock open, before following the man out of the grand foyer and into a dimly lit corridor, casting an eye over the cracked paint and the flickering bulbs. She focused on Professor Jordan Rutledge, a short, stout man with curly grey hair and a visible birthmark on the nape of his neck. He fidgeted nervously as he scuttled along, his eyes darting furtively around the corridor.
Sarah Jane glanced around, but couldn’t find anything lurking in the shadows; nevertheless, she surreptitiously flipped the lid of her wristwatch scanner open without breaking stride.
“I’m sorry about the delay, Professor,” Sarah Jane said conversationally. “There was an accident on the motorway.”
“Oh? Did something happen?”
“A tractor had broken down on the lane. I almost drove straight into it.”
Rutledge looked alarmed. “Oh dear. I hope you’re all right.”
Sarah Jane smiled coolly. “I’m fine.”
Rutledge nodded, bowed his head and mumbled to himself. “Good, good. And not to worry. I was just about to close up. It’s not time yet...”
“Sorry?”
Rutledge looked up. “Hmm?”
“You said it wasn’t time yet.”
“Did I?”
“Time for what?” Sarah Jane enquired curiously.
“Time… time…” He trailed off and laughed nervously. “Forgive me, my dear, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
They travelled up a grand staircase, and strode down another corridor. Sarah Jane kept an eye on the windows they passed. Rain drizzled down heavily, leaving wet tracks along the cold glass. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, and she briefly allowed herself to worry about --
“I probably did say it,” Rutledge mused, snapping Sarah Jane from her thoughts. “Maybe I just forgot. I’m doing that a lot these days. My assistant thinks it’s high-time I retire.” He chuckled self-deprecatingly. “I think she’s probably right.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Sarah Jane said.
“No, no,” Rutledge sighed resignedly. “I dare say I’m quite looking forward to it. I’m thinking about moving.”
“Going anywhere nice?”
“Barbados,” he revealed. “Have you ever been?”
“Yes, a long time ago,” Sarah Jane said nostalgically.
“I thought as much. You seem to be a well-versed woman.”
“I like to think that I am.”
The pair rounded a corner, passing a large hall with a lone grand piano covered in thick grey clumps of dust as the sole decorative attraction. Sarah Jane glimpsed through the glass doors, but didn’t find any other noteworthy objects.
“What about you, my dear?” Rutledge said, capturing Sarah Jane’s attention again. “Have you considered retiring from the busy bustle and living a quiet life?”
“I tried, once, but it didn’t work out.”
“What happened?”
Sarah Jane smiled knowingly. “I got bored. If anything, I’m working now more than ever before.”
Professor Rutledge laughed politely at the thought. “Yes, I can see why. It’s not your time yet.” He trailed off. “Time… time…”
Sarah Jane curiously glanced in his direction, but didn’t comment. She merely followed him to the end of the corridor and up a treacherous flight of spiral stairs, which led into a small office space at the top of the large house. A plethora of papers and documents were strewn over the worktops, books were crammed into the upper shelves and drawers, and an ancient-looking computer was gathering dust in the corner.
As Sarah Jane carefully maneuvered around the litter, her eyes caught onto a particular discarded scroll lying atop a stack of books. She picked it up, and was taken aback by a hastily drawn image of a domed creature with a telescopic eyestalk.
“I’d heard you were an accomplished alien information broker, Professor, but I hadn’t grapsed the extent of it,” Sarah Jane confessed, skimming over the tome again with an awed expression.
Rutledge, who was roaming through the books on a nearby shelf, chuckled lightly. “No one does, my dear. Most people just think I’m a bit mad, truth be told.”
“I think it’s wonderful,” Sarah Jane said.
Despite his sombre expression, Rutledge shot her a grateful smile. “I appreciate it. Besides, despite everything, I kept at it. I’ve been gathering information for as long as I can remember. Now I’m starting to wonder if it was all a waste of time.” He paused. “Time… is it time? No… time. Time.”
“Professor?” Sarah Jane said worriedly, wondering if the man had a nervous tick, when her watch started beeping. She turned away, and flipped the lid open, scanning the results with a frown. There wasn’t an alien presence, but the watch had picked up on something else. Sarah Jane pursed her lips, feeling a coldness seep into her gut.
A shadow suddenly flickered in the corner of her eye, prompting Sarah Jane to turn in its direction.
“I know I have something for you somewhere, Miss Smith,” Rutledge murmured idly.
Sarah Jane suddenly whipped around to look at him, but faltered. She was certain there was something she’d wanted to say, yet words escaped her.
“It wasn’t the easiest job, I must say,” Rutledge rambled on obliviously, continuing to sift through the files. “You were unable to provide a description of any sort. Just a name, or a title — the Order of the Silence.”
“That’s right,” Sarah Jane confirmed. “Have you found something?”
Professor Rutledge turned around with a package. “Yes. It took a while, but —” He suddenly stopped mid-sentence, his eyes wide and distant.
“Professor?” Sarah Jane said, stepping closer towards him, but he didn’t react to her presence at all. She tried again, and this time, he blinked down at her. His gaze was blank at first, but they quickly lit up with recognition.
“Yes,” he mumbled distractedly. “It took some time to find something… but this isn’t it.” He hastily dropped the package in her hand, and returned to rummaging through the drawer.
“Professor, are you okay?” Sarah Jane called out to him.
“Yes, my dear. It’s just… been a long day. Almost time, I think. Yes...” He paused momentarily, before quickly returning to his task.
Sarah Jane frowned, merely waiting for the inevitable. She eyed the package curiously, found nothing of interest, flipped it over, and froze. Scrawled over the smooth brown covering were two simple, urgent words smudged in a reddish-brown substance. She squinted to make them out in the dim lighting, but the message was unmistakably clear: GET OUT.
“Ah, here it is.”
Sarah Jane kept her eyes trained on the package, listening to the drawer slide shut, and then an audible click confirmed her suspicions.
“Miss Smith?” he said expectantly. Sarah Jane looked up, and was greeted by the sight of Professor Rutledge pointing a pistol at her. He noted her resigned expression and lowered it slightly, regarding her with curiosity. “You knew.”
She raised her hands, managing a nod, as she struggled to remain cool and impassive. “Yes. My scan detected your weapon.”
“You don’t seem to be very scared.”
“This isn’t a new experience for me,” she confessed.
Rutledge huffed in disbelief. “And you lived to tell the story,” he marvelled. “You’re very lucky.”
“Maybe I am,” Sarah Jane said sadly, her mind casting back to painful events she would much rather forget, “but not everyone has been so fortunate. Professor, you don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I must,” Rutledge insisted sombrely. “I’m sorry.”
“But why?” Sarah Jane asked pleadingly.
A flicker of conflicted hesitation crossed Rutledge’s expression. He stood, speechless, as his mouth flapped open and closed, struggling to form the syllables that eluded him. “I don’t know,” he said, eventually, his tone hushed.
“You don’t have to do anything you’re not sure of,” Sarah Jane continued, lowering her arms and taking a cautious step forward. “Put down the gun, Jordan.”
“No.” Rutledge quickly raised the gun, prompting Sarah Jane to raise her hands again. “I must. They’re telling me, you see.”
“Who? Who’s telling you?”
“The voices,” Rutledge groused in a hoarse whisper. “It’s your time, Miss Smith. I’m sorry.”
Sarah Jane stood still, with bated breath, waiting for him to make the next move. Rutledge fidgeted nervously, a bead of perspiration trailing down his forehead, waiting for her to make the next move. They were locked in a stalemate.
Suddenly, there was the sound of heavy footsteps. Something burst into the room a second later, and just like that, the spell was broken. They both spun around to find a little girl stood hesitantly on the threshold, staring at them with wide, angry eyes.
“Leave her alone!” she demanded.
“Melody!” Sarah Jane cried out in alarm. She noticed Rutledge shift his aim towards the girl, and immediately dove in front of the line of fire, pushing Melody safely behind her back. “I told you to wait outside,” she chastised softly. “It’s not safe here.”
“I couldn’t,” Melody said. “It wasn’t safe there.”
“What do you mean?”
Melody whimpered, clutching onto Sarah Jane’s leather jacket like it were a lifeline. “I don’t know,” she admitted meekly. “I just… I wanted to be with you. I’m sorry.”
Sarah Jane sighed, softly. “It’s okay.”
“The girl,” Rutledge breathed, an awestruck expression on his face.
“You leave her alone,” Sarah Jane said defiantly, rising to her full height. Professor Rutledge’s eyes darted to her, and Sarah Jane felt a chill run up her spine. His wild, manic countenance set her on edge. She watched nervously as his finger found the pistol’s trigger again. He started to tremble, his hands wobbling noticeably. Instinctively, she pulled Melody close behind her.
A few, tense seconds passed. Nothing happened.
“It’s not her time,” Rutledge ruminated, lowering the gun with a frustrated growl. “It’s not time, it’s not time, it’s not time.” He scratched and pawed at his curly hair, pulling at the strands and slapping his forehead.
“Professor?” Sarah Jane managed shakily, using the distraction to take a few steps back. Even with the added benefit of Sentinel’s containment vortex, a sliver of fear persisted in the back of her mind, urging her to remain vigilant.
“Everything’s gone wrong,” Rutledge whined mournfully. “Nothing makes sense anymore.”
“That’s not true,” Sarah Jane tried, gently, despite the situation. “What about your retirement plans? You were looking forward to those.”
Rutledge chuckled sombrely. “No,” he murmured, his tone resigned. “It’s all gone wrong.” He looked down at the pistol, turning it around and examining it as if he were only noticing it for the first time. A distant rumble jolted him from his stupor, startling Sarah Jane into a jump, and he stared at her with wide eyes. “They’re coming for you,” he said blankly.
“Who are?”
“They came for me,” he continued, his eyes growing glazed and distant. “They came for me on a day like this. They came from out of the rain and into the shadows. Oh, god…”
“Jordan? Professor Rutledge?” Sarah Jane called out. He turned to her immediately, and she truly took in his haggard state, for perhaps the first time that evening. Melody’s presence kept her grounded, focusing her mind on the relevant issues. She cleared her throat, and asked, “Who is coming?”
He squeezed his eyes shut as he uttered a simple word.
A chill ran down Sarah Jane’s spine, and she felt Melody’s trembling fingers dig into her back. “But why?”
Jordan ignored her in favour of scrutinising Melody, who poked her head out nervously. He sighed wearily. “It’s time.”
Sarah Jane barely processed his words before she realised what he was doing. Hastily, she threw her arms around Melody and shielded her face, squeezing her own eyes shut as a loud bang reverberated off the office walls, quickly drowned out by a deafening crash of thunder.
But even the thunder couldn’t muffle Rutledge’s final word, and Sarah Jane found it replaying over and over in her head.
Silence.
Shaking it off, Sarah Jane stuffed her hands into her coat pockets and hurried up the worn stone steps. Once she reached the top, she stopped to admire her surroundings. A building loomed imposingly up ahead, shrouded by the darkness. It was probably a spectacular sight in the daylight.
Her boots crunched on the wet grass as she crossed the distance to the entrance, and knocked on the door. As she waited patiently, her eyes scanned over her surroundings once again, ultimately resting on a pair of stone eagle heads perched on identical pedestals opposite the doorstep, glaring unnervingly into the distance like a pair of silent guard dogs. A slim crack travelled along the junction between the head and neck. Sarah Jane ran a finger along the jagged surface, when the door opened marginally.
A man tentatively poked his head out. “Yes?” His voice trembled as he spoke, his bespectacled eyes wide and fixed on her.
Sarah Jane smiled to soothe his nerves. “Professor Rutledge? We have an appointment?”
The man — Professor Rutledge — frowned. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. “Oh, yes, you must be Miss Smith.”
“Call me Sarah Jane,” she told him sweetly.
Professor Rutledge flushed a deep shade of pink. “Of course. Please, c-come in.” He pulled the door further ajar to allow her in.
“Thank you.” Sarah Jane crossed the threshold, glancing over her shoulder as Professor Rutledge closed the door behind them, and spun around to face her.
“What can I do for you, Miss...?”
“Smith,” Sarah Jane reminded him. “We had an appointment?”
Professor Rutledge furrowed his brow. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. “Oh… yes, that’s right. This way, please.”
Sarah Jane lingered for a moment. Deciding it was best to remain prepared, she pulled out her sonic lipstick and zapped the entrance lock open, before following the man out of the grand foyer and into a dimly lit corridor, casting an eye over the cracked paint and the flickering bulbs. She focused on Professor Jordan Rutledge, a short, stout man with curly grey hair and a visible birthmark on the nape of his neck. He fidgeted nervously as he scuttled along, his eyes darting furtively around the corridor.
Sarah Jane glanced around, but couldn’t find anything lurking in the shadows; nevertheless, she surreptitiously flipped the lid of her wristwatch scanner open without breaking stride.
“I’m sorry about the delay, Professor,” Sarah Jane said conversationally. “There was an accident on the motorway.”
“Oh? Did something happen?”
“A tractor had broken down on the lane. I almost drove straight into it.”
Rutledge looked alarmed. “Oh dear. I hope you’re all right.”
Sarah Jane smiled coolly. “I’m fine.”
Rutledge nodded, bowed his head and mumbled to himself. “Good, good. And not to worry. I was just about to close up. It’s not time yet...”
“Sorry?”
Rutledge looked up. “Hmm?”
“You said it wasn’t time yet.”
“Did I?”
“Time for what?” Sarah Jane enquired curiously.
“Time… time…” He trailed off and laughed nervously. “Forgive me, my dear, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
They travelled up a grand staircase, and strode down another corridor. Sarah Jane kept an eye on the windows they passed. Rain drizzled down heavily, leaving wet tracks along the cold glass. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, and she briefly allowed herself to worry about --
“I probably did say it,” Rutledge mused, snapping Sarah Jane from her thoughts. “Maybe I just forgot. I’m doing that a lot these days. My assistant thinks it’s high-time I retire.” He chuckled self-deprecatingly. “I think she’s probably right.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Sarah Jane said.
“No, no,” Rutledge sighed resignedly. “I dare say I’m quite looking forward to it. I’m thinking about moving.”
“Going anywhere nice?”
“Barbados,” he revealed. “Have you ever been?”
“Yes, a long time ago,” Sarah Jane said nostalgically.
“I thought as much. You seem to be a well-versed woman.”
“I like to think that I am.”
The pair rounded a corner, passing a large hall with a lone grand piano covered in thick grey clumps of dust as the sole decorative attraction. Sarah Jane glimpsed through the glass doors, but didn’t find any other noteworthy objects.
“What about you, my dear?” Rutledge said, capturing Sarah Jane’s attention again. “Have you considered retiring from the busy bustle and living a quiet life?”
“I tried, once, but it didn’t work out.”
“What happened?”
Sarah Jane smiled knowingly. “I got bored. If anything, I’m working now more than ever before.”
Professor Rutledge laughed politely at the thought. “Yes, I can see why. It’s not your time yet.” He trailed off. “Time… time…”
Sarah Jane curiously glanced in his direction, but didn’t comment. She merely followed him to the end of the corridor and up a treacherous flight of spiral stairs, which led into a small office space at the top of the large house. A plethora of papers and documents were strewn over the worktops, books were crammed into the upper shelves and drawers, and an ancient-looking computer was gathering dust in the corner.
As Sarah Jane carefully maneuvered around the litter, her eyes caught onto a particular discarded scroll lying atop a stack of books. She picked it up, and was taken aback by a hastily drawn image of a domed creature with a telescopic eyestalk.
“I’d heard you were an accomplished alien information broker, Professor, but I hadn’t grapsed the extent of it,” Sarah Jane confessed, skimming over the tome again with an awed expression.
Rutledge, who was roaming through the books on a nearby shelf, chuckled lightly. “No one does, my dear. Most people just think I’m a bit mad, truth be told.”
“I think it’s wonderful,” Sarah Jane said.
Despite his sombre expression, Rutledge shot her a grateful smile. “I appreciate it. Besides, despite everything, I kept at it. I’ve been gathering information for as long as I can remember. Now I’m starting to wonder if it was all a waste of time.” He paused. “Time… is it time? No… time. Time.”
“Professor?” Sarah Jane said worriedly, wondering if the man had a nervous tick, when her watch started beeping. She turned away, and flipped the lid open, scanning the results with a frown. There wasn’t an alien presence, but the watch had picked up on something else. Sarah Jane pursed her lips, feeling a coldness seep into her gut.
A shadow suddenly flickered in the corner of her eye, prompting Sarah Jane to turn in its direction.
“I know I have something for you somewhere, Miss Smith,” Rutledge murmured idly.
Sarah Jane suddenly whipped around to look at him, but faltered. She was certain there was something she’d wanted to say, yet words escaped her.
“It wasn’t the easiest job, I must say,” Rutledge rambled on obliviously, continuing to sift through the files. “You were unable to provide a description of any sort. Just a name, or a title — the Order of the Silence.”
“That’s right,” Sarah Jane confirmed. “Have you found something?”
Professor Rutledge turned around with a package. “Yes. It took a while, but —” He suddenly stopped mid-sentence, his eyes wide and distant.
“Professor?” Sarah Jane said, stepping closer towards him, but he didn’t react to her presence at all. She tried again, and this time, he blinked down at her. His gaze was blank at first, but they quickly lit up with recognition.
“Yes,” he mumbled distractedly. “It took some time to find something… but this isn’t it.” He hastily dropped the package in her hand, and returned to rummaging through the drawer.
“Professor, are you okay?” Sarah Jane called out to him.
“Yes, my dear. It’s just… been a long day. Almost time, I think. Yes...” He paused momentarily, before quickly returning to his task.
Sarah Jane frowned, merely waiting for the inevitable. She eyed the package curiously, found nothing of interest, flipped it over, and froze. Scrawled over the smooth brown covering were two simple, urgent words smudged in a reddish-brown substance. She squinted to make them out in the dim lighting, but the message was unmistakably clear: GET OUT.
“Ah, here it is.”
Sarah Jane kept her eyes trained on the package, listening to the drawer slide shut, and then an audible click confirmed her suspicions.
“Miss Smith?” he said expectantly. Sarah Jane looked up, and was greeted by the sight of Professor Rutledge pointing a pistol at her. He noted her resigned expression and lowered it slightly, regarding her with curiosity. “You knew.”
She raised her hands, managing a nod, as she struggled to remain cool and impassive. “Yes. My scan detected your weapon.”
“You don’t seem to be very scared.”
“This isn’t a new experience for me,” she confessed.
Rutledge huffed in disbelief. “And you lived to tell the story,” he marvelled. “You’re very lucky.”
“Maybe I am,” Sarah Jane said sadly, her mind casting back to painful events she would much rather forget, “but not everyone has been so fortunate. Professor, you don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I must,” Rutledge insisted sombrely. “I’m sorry.”
“But why?” Sarah Jane asked pleadingly.
A flicker of conflicted hesitation crossed Rutledge’s expression. He stood, speechless, as his mouth flapped open and closed, struggling to form the syllables that eluded him. “I don’t know,” he said, eventually, his tone hushed.
“You don’t have to do anything you’re not sure of,” Sarah Jane continued, lowering her arms and taking a cautious step forward. “Put down the gun, Jordan.”
“No.” Rutledge quickly raised the gun, prompting Sarah Jane to raise her hands again. “I must. They’re telling me, you see.”
“Who? Who’s telling you?”
“The voices,” Rutledge groused in a hoarse whisper. “It’s your time, Miss Smith. I’m sorry.”
Sarah Jane stood still, with bated breath, waiting for him to make the next move. Rutledge fidgeted nervously, a bead of perspiration trailing down his forehead, waiting for her to make the next move. They were locked in a stalemate.
Suddenly, there was the sound of heavy footsteps. Something burst into the room a second later, and just like that, the spell was broken. They both spun around to find a little girl stood hesitantly on the threshold, staring at them with wide, angry eyes.
“Leave her alone!” she demanded.
“Melody!” Sarah Jane cried out in alarm. She noticed Rutledge shift his aim towards the girl, and immediately dove in front of the line of fire, pushing Melody safely behind her back. “I told you to wait outside,” she chastised softly. “It’s not safe here.”
“I couldn’t,” Melody said. “It wasn’t safe there.”
“What do you mean?”
Melody whimpered, clutching onto Sarah Jane’s leather jacket like it were a lifeline. “I don’t know,” she admitted meekly. “I just… I wanted to be with you. I’m sorry.”
Sarah Jane sighed, softly. “It’s okay.”
“The girl,” Rutledge breathed, an awestruck expression on his face.
“You leave her alone,” Sarah Jane said defiantly, rising to her full height. Professor Rutledge’s eyes darted to her, and Sarah Jane felt a chill run up her spine. His wild, manic countenance set her on edge. She watched nervously as his finger found the pistol’s trigger again. He started to tremble, his hands wobbling noticeably. Instinctively, she pulled Melody close behind her.
A few, tense seconds passed. Nothing happened.
“It’s not her time,” Rutledge ruminated, lowering the gun with a frustrated growl. “It’s not time, it’s not time, it’s not time.” He scratched and pawed at his curly hair, pulling at the strands and slapping his forehead.
“Professor?” Sarah Jane managed shakily, using the distraction to take a few steps back. Even with the added benefit of Sentinel’s containment vortex, a sliver of fear persisted in the back of her mind, urging her to remain vigilant.
“Everything’s gone wrong,” Rutledge whined mournfully. “Nothing makes sense anymore.”
“That’s not true,” Sarah Jane tried, gently, despite the situation. “What about your retirement plans? You were looking forward to those.”
Rutledge chuckled sombrely. “No,” he murmured, his tone resigned. “It’s all gone wrong.” He looked down at the pistol, turning it around and examining it as if he were only noticing it for the first time. A distant rumble jolted him from his stupor, startling Sarah Jane into a jump, and he stared at her with wide eyes. “They’re coming for you,” he said blankly.
“Who are?”
“They came for me,” he continued, his eyes growing glazed and distant. “They came for me on a day like this. They came from out of the rain and into the shadows. Oh, god…”
“Jordan? Professor Rutledge?” Sarah Jane called out. He turned to her immediately, and she truly took in his haggard state, for perhaps the first time that evening. Melody’s presence kept her grounded, focusing her mind on the relevant issues. She cleared her throat, and asked, “Who is coming?”
He squeezed his eyes shut as he uttered a simple word.
A chill ran down Sarah Jane’s spine, and she felt Melody’s trembling fingers dig into her back. “But why?”
Jordan ignored her in favour of scrutinising Melody, who poked her head out nervously. He sighed wearily. “It’s time.”
Sarah Jane barely processed his words before she realised what he was doing. Hastily, she threw her arms around Melody and shielded her face, squeezing her own eyes shut as a loud bang reverberated off the office walls, quickly drowned out by a deafening crash of thunder.
But even the thunder couldn’t muffle Rutledge’s final word, and Sarah Jane found it replaying over and over in her head.
Silence.