The shrill ringing of the Tardis phone halts Clara in her tracks just as she reaches the door to leave.
She turns slowly and walks back toward the two Time Lords in her sitting room who are both staring at the box.
"There you go, you've got another playmate," Clara nods toward the time machine.
"Hardly anyone in the universe has that number," Peyton says quietly.
"Well, I've got it," says Clara.
"Yes, from some woman in a shop," the Doctor mutters. "We still don't know who that was."
"Is that her now?"
"There are very few people it could be," Peyton folds her arms as the Doctor steps toward to grab the phone.
He opens the compartment but before he can grab it, Clara speaks up.
"Don't!"
"Why not?" The Doctor frowns.
"Because if you answer it, something will happen."
"Like what?" Peyton raises an eyebrow.
"A thing," she grumbles.
"It's just a phone, Clara," the Doctor says. "Nothing happens when you answer the phone."
He picks up the phone from the receiver and lifts it to his ear.
• • •
Peyton screams, tossing the memory worm down on the table.
"What's happening?" Clara yelps beside her.
"Don't touch it!" Peyton warns, grabbing the wrist of the woman next to her, holding it back from another memory worm on the table.
"Where are we? How did we get here?"
"Who are you?"
Peyton looks across the table to see two strangers. The man, who spoke, seemed human at first sight, but metal circuitry on the side of his head tells her he's been augmented.
"Sorry, what's going on? I don't understand," he continues.
"What is that thing?" The woman next to him groans. She wears a black hood and dramatic eyeliner but what is more interesting to Peyton is the way the skin on her cheeks shifts as of trying to change form.
"It's a memory worm," Peyton explains.
"What happened to your face?" Clara asks, staring at the woman.
"It deletes your memories," Peyton continues despite being interrupted.
"How did I get here?" She asks.
"The same way we all did, but we've all forgotten," the Doctor says.
"Yeah, and who are you?" She looks the three time travellers up and down.
"I am the Doctor," a voice says, but it's not from the man sitting next to here. Instead, it crackles as if from a speaker. Peyton looks to the briefcase in the centre of the table, seemingly the source of the sound. "A Time Lord from Gallifrey. I have agreed to this memory wipe of my own free will."
"I am Peyton Barrett," the recording continues, this time Peyton hears her own voice emanate from the briefcase. "Half-human, half-Gallifreyan. I have agreed to this memory wipe off my own free will."
"My name is Clara Oswald... human. I have agreed to this memory wipe of my own free will. Do I really have to touch that worm thing?"
"Yes you do," Peyton's voice replies on the recording,
"And change your shoes," the Doctor's voice adds. "You're next Psi."
"I'm Psi, augmented human. I have agreed to this memory wipe of my own free will."
The real Psi in front of them, reaches up to his hardware and unclips a small microchip and stares at it intently before reattaching it.
"I am Saibra, mutant human," another voice says, the woman across the table immediately sits up straighter. "I have agreed to this memory wipe of my own free will."
The lights on the briefcase turn from red to green and the latches disengage. It begins to open by itself, flattening 180 degrees and on each side, a small screen stands up facing each side of the table.
The screen lights up and an ornate letter K in a circle appears in its centre.
"This is a recorded message," a new voice says, clearly scrambled. The picture changes to reveal a hooded silhouette, "I am the Architect. Your last memory is of receiving a contact from an unknown agency... me. Everything since has been erased from your minds. Now pay close attention to this briefing."
• • •
Peyton runs among the others through the dimly lit corridor.
"Okay, okay, okay. Stop, stop, stop," the Doctor calls. "Far enough,"
The group slow to a halt and catch their breaths.
"Augmented human. Computer-augmented, yes?" The Doctor turns to Psi. "Mainframe in your head?"
"I'm a gamer," he says. "Sorry, who put you in charge?"
"He does that," Peyton grimaces.
"You're a liar," the Doctor says. "That's a prison code on your neck."
"I'm a hacker," he admits. "Slash bank robber."
"Fair enough," Peyton shrugs. "It's a good day to be a bank robber."
"Mutant human," the Doctor turns to circle Saibra as he interrogates her. "What kind of mutant?"
"Like he says, why are you in charge now?"
"It's my special power, what's yours?"
Saibra scoffs and walks toward Clara, offering a hand out toward her.
Clara takes it hesitantly and as soon as her skin makes contact, Saibra immediately shrinks a few inches, her black scarf morphing into brunette hair.
Clara's face on Saibra's body turns to look back at the Doctor.
She removes her hand from Clara and her visage returns to normal. "When I touch living cells, I can replicate the owner."
"Your face, when we first saw you..." Clara realises.
"I touched the worm."
"You can replicate their clothes too?" Peyton says, very impressed.
"I wear a hologram shell."
"Human cells. DNA from a customer, maybe?" The Doctor asks. "A disguise to get us in?"
"We're actually going to do it? Rob the bank?" Clara looks up at everyone.
"I don't think we have a choice," Peyton shakes her head. "We've already agreed to."
• • •
The five bank robbers walk into the Great Atrium, Saibra disguised as a patron, the others trying to remain unnoticed
"Question one," the Doctor says. "Robbing banks is easy if you've got a Tardis. So why are we not using it?"
"Question two, where is the Tardis?" Peyton adds. As she looks around she is grateful that she was not caught up in this mess wearing her usual sweatshirt and jeans combo which would have left her woefully underdressed compared to all the other wealthy patrons and business people in the building. Luckily she had just attended an important conference at work before meeting the Doctor and Clara, leaving her in navy business attire.
"Can we make that question one?" Clara asks.
"Good idea," the Doctor concedes.
An alarm blares through the room and bars lower over all the exits in sight.
"Banking floor locking down," a voice over the P.A. announces.
"They know we're here," Saibra says.
"Banking floor locking down."
A woman emerges from an exit that must not have been locked, two bodyguards flanking her.
A creature emerges behind them, wrapped in an orange straight jacket and flanked by two armoured guards who hold chains attached to the creature. Peyton had never seen anything like its species before but all eyes in the room are firmly on it now.
"What is that?" Saibra whispers.
"I don't know," the Doctor gasps. "I hate not knowing."
"Excuse me, sir," the woman approaches another of the bank's patrons who seems to look incredibly scared. "I regret to say that your guilt has been detected."
"What? What? That's... that's totally ridiculous," he stammers.
"Is it, sir?" She says sweetly. "Well, then, we will certainly double-check. The Teller will now scan your thoughts for any criminal intent. Good luck, sir."
She steps aside as the creature steps up to the man.
"Interesting," the Doctor mutters.
"What is it?" Psi asks.
"The latest thing in sniffer dogs," Peyton supposes. "Telepathic hunters of guilt."
"What about our guilt?" Clara hisses, staring ahead as the man grabs either side of his head like there is a loud ringing only he can hear.
"Currently being drowned out," the Doctor says.
"What's he doing?" Clara asks.
"If he has a plan, he's trying not to think of it," Peyton guesses.
"Ever tried not thinking about something?" Psi stresses.
"No," Clara answers weakly.
"You may have to," says Saibra.
The Teller roars, lunging forward at the man but the chains held by the two guards hold him back.
"Ah, criminal intent detected," the woman smiles regretfully, stepping between the man and the Teller. "How naughty, what was your plan? Counterfeit currency in your briefcase, perhaps?"
"No, not at all, for God's sake," the man pleads.
"Well, it really doesn't matter, we'll establish the details later," she says. "The Teller is never wrong when it comes to guilt. Your account will now be deleted and obviously your mind. Supper time!"
She steps away and the Teller roars once more, straining against its restraints.
Its two eye stalks reach together, a faint glow of energy pulses between them and the man who covers his head in pain.
He screams and Psi twitches, hand reaching up for his computer. The frequency must only be heard by its victim but technology would be able to pick it up too.
"It's wiping his mind, turning his brain into soup," the Doctor explains.
"Your next of kin will be informed and incarcerated, as further inducement to honest financial transactions."
"We've got to help him," Clara whispers.
"He's gone already, it's over," the Doctor scowls.
"He's in agony, look at him!"
"Those aren't tears, Clara. That's soup."
The Teller steps back, its eyestalks releasing to look forward again.
The man goes limp, stumbling back into the arms of one of the woman's bodyguards, the top of his head completely caved in.
Peyton swallows thickly.
"Account closed." The woman says. "Take him away. He's ready for his close up."
Peyton watches her take out a small device and holds it up to her mouth. Speakers crackle to life around them.
"Apologies for the disturbance," she says. "Everyone have a lovely day."
• • •
"The floor below is all service corridors, the veins and arteries of the bank," the Doctor says looking at the bank schematic Psi projects up on the wall. Peyton studies the bomb inside the briefcase. Why do they need to break into the bank to plant a bomb? Why them?
The Doctor steps out into the middle of the deposit box as Psi takes down the projection. He jumps tapping his feet against the floor as if testing a theory.
"He wants us to blow through the floor," the Doctor realises.
"We'll die if we do that," Saibra points out.
"Well, not necessarily, there's got to be a plan," the Doctor says.
"What if the plan is we're blowing up the floor for someone else?" Clara reasons. "What if we're not supposed to make it out alive."
"Oh, don't be so pessimistic," Peyton teases, taking the bomb out of the briefcase gently. Hopefully, this architect does want them to complete the mission in one piece and by the looks of this bomb, it will have a very small blast radius, smaller than this room in fact. "You'll bring the whole day down."
"What, and getting us all blown up won't?" Saibra counters.
"Technically only briefly," Peyton mutters, running her hands over the device, figuring out how to set it.
"No, no way!" Psi scoffs. "Do what you like, I'm not going to take my chances out there."
"Psi!" Saibra calls as he walks toward the door.
"No, these two, your mates, are lunatics!" He says.
"What do you want, Psi... more than anything else?" The Doctor asks. "Whatever it is, it's in this bank. You agreed to rob the most impregnable bank in history, you must have had a very good reason. We all must have. Picture the thing you want most in the universe... and decide how badly you want it. Well?"
"Still don't understand why you're in charge," Psi glares.
"Basically it's the eyebrows," the Doctor replies. "Peyton?"
"Got it," she says, the device clicks into place, beeping slowly. She steps forward, placing it on the floor at the centre of the room before backing up to the wall.
Everyone turns, covering the backs of their heads and bracing themselves against the walls. Preparing for the blast.
The beeping accelerates and Peyton squeezes her eyes tight.
Then it stops.
Peyton looks over her shoulder, surprised to see a scorched hole in the floor, the bomb still intact.
"Nice!" The Doctor laughs stepping forward and crouching down to look at the device. "Dimensional shift bomb. Sends the particles to a different plane."
"Come on, then," Peyton says, staring down into the hole before back up at the others. "Team Not Dead."
• • •
"Peyton! Doctor!" Clara calls from below the grated floor.
"There you go! Thing time!" The Doctor says, climbing down a nearby ladder to meet her, Peyton follows closely behind.
She jumps down to see Clara and Psi standing by another case like the one the bomb came in.
"How does he get the cases in here?" Clara asks.
"By breaking into the bank... in advance of breaking into the bank?" Peyton hesitates.
"How did he do that? And if he can do that, why does he need us?" Clara reasons.
"Not our problem," the Doctor shakes his head.
"Well, then what is our prob- prob- prob- prob..."
"Are you okay?" Peyton watches Psi carefully.
"Drive glitch, it's fine," he sighs.
"Guilt is our problem," the Doctor says. "Guilt, in this bank, is fatal. The Teller can hear it. Ever since that first case was opened, we've been targets. The more we know about why we're here, the louder our guilt screams."
"We wiped our memories for our own safety," Peyton pieces together.
"Now, once I open this, I can't close it again," the Doctor grabs the briefcase.
"Would it be safer if only one of us learned it?" Psi asks.
It's quiet in the room until the Doctor speaks. "I'm waiting for you to volunteer."
"Er, why me?"
"Because you didn't need that memory worm, did you?" Peyton asks, turning to him. "You're half computer, you can perform a manual delete. You can clear your thoughts."
"Okay," he nods.
The Doctor places the briefcase back down, clasps facing Psi, and Peyton grabs Clara's arm to pull her back so she can't see its contents.
Psi opens the box. "I don't know what it is," he says after a minute of silence had passed. "You may as well have a look."
He turns the case around and the four others peer into it.
"Well, what are they?" Psi looks to the Doctor as picks up two cylindrical devices from the foam casing. Two of seven.
"Not a clue," the Doctor grunts, picking up the rest of the devices from the case and pocketing them. Peyton frowns at this, watching his face carefully.
"Hmm, interesting," Saibra hums.
"What is?" The Doctor asks, not sensing her sarcastic tone.
"You're lying."
We, why would he be lyi- lyi- lyi- lying?" Psi doubles over. "Ugh! Sorry. Stress. Drains the batteries."
"Interface with this," the Doctor says, walking over to a control panel on the wall, waving Psi over.
"Do we have time for this?" Saibra snaps.
"Why not?" Peyton asks, pulling one of Psi's arms over her shoulders to help him to the Doctor. "There's no immediate threat."
As if she jinxed it just by mentioning it, alarms blare throughout the floor.
"Warning. Intruders detected."
"I should stop saying things like that," Peyton curses.
"Intruders detected."
"Clara, stay with Psi. Saibra, Peyton... let's go and investigate."
• • •
"Why did you lie?" Saibra asks as the three of them crawl out of the air vent and into one of the bank's many corridors. "You definitely know what those things are."
"Exit strategy, of sorts," the Doctor explains as they walk. "How did you know I was lying, Saibra?"
"I've had a lot of faces, I find them easy to read?" She responds.
"Quite a gift," Peyton muses.
"Gift?" She cringes.
"Got us in here," Peyton reminds her.
"Mutant-gene. No one can touch me, if they do, I transform," Saibra says, stopping the three of them. "Touch me, and you'll be looking at yourself. I am alone."
"Why?" The Doctor frowns.
"Could you trust someone who looked back at you out of your own eyes?"
A muffled groan up ahead prompts the trio to start moving again.
Carefully and quietly, the Doctor leads the way toward the source of the noise.
In the walls of the corridor, Peyton sees a series of barred gaps. As she gets nearer to them, she realises that they look into a cell with a single occupant inside.
Hands chained to the wall, the guilty man from the Atrium stares blankly ahead of him, his head still caved in like a satellite dish.
The sound of running footsteps coming from the way the three came causes Peyton to look back, ready to sprint if necessary.
Thankfully, it's Clara and Psi who round the corner, looking equally relieved to see them.
As they catch up, Clara peers ingot the cell to see what they're all looking at and gasps softly. "Oh, my stars. Why is he even still alive?"
"I don't know," the Doctor answers. "But someone is watching."
Peyton looks back into the cell and sees the blinking security camera fixed to the wall. Well, that's just great.
"Doctor..." Psi says quietly. "However this goes, whatever happens... don't let me end up like that."
An alarm blares through the building.
"Intruders on the service level."
"Go!" Peyton shouts before turning on her heel to run.
• • •
"Saibra!" Peyton shouts as she ducks into the air vents. The Teller roaring in the background. Turns out their hiding place wasn't too successful, instead finding the guilt sniffing creature, now alerting everyone in the building to their whereabouts.
The woman groans holding her head in pain.
"She's still in there. How do we get her out?" Clara asks from behind her.
"It's scanning her brain!" The Doctor growls.
"Then what?" Psi asks worriedly.
"Soup," Peyton swallows thickly.
"Then help her!" Clara pleads.
The Doctor pushes past Peyton and dives back through the entrance to the vent and into the Teller's chamber.
"Saibra!" The Doctor calls.
"What should I do? How can I get away?" Saibra sobs.
"It's rooting through your brain," the Doctor says. "It's tasting all the secrets stashed inside. Any moment now, it will finish its sweep and start feasting on what's left."
"What? And then I become one of those things we saw, sitting in a cage!"
"Yes," the Doctor says.
"Can you not get me out?" She cries.
"I'm sorry. I don't know how, once it's locked onto your thoughts."
Peyton looks up at the Doctor's face. He's telling the truth, heartbroken that he is doing so. She looks between him and Saibra, knowing they have to leave quickly to avoid being caught by security but also that she can't just leave her.
"Exit strategy," Saibra chokes. "That means what I think it means, right?"
"Atomic shredder," the Doctor pulls something from his pocket. The devices.
"Painless?"
"Saibra, think about this!" Peyton calls out.
"And instant," the Doctor ignores her.
Saibra snatches it from his hand. "When you meet the Architect, promise me something... kill him."
"I hate him, but I can't make that promise."
"A good man," Saibra chuckles cynically as her whole body vibrates with pressure. "I left it late to meet one of those."
Saibra sits back on her haunches and holds the device between her hands and shuts her eyes tight.
In a flash of light, the woman is gone and no one says a word while the Teller roars.
• • •
"Right, vault," Peyton says without much tone in her voice, looking down the hallway they just emerged into. "Now what?"
"We take a look," the Doctor says, marching down the hall while Peyton stays in place.
"Are you okay?" Clara asks softly, placing a hand on Peyton's arm.
"Hmm, I'm an amnesiac robbing a bank, I'm feeling great," says Peyton dryly walking in the direction of the Doctor and Psi.
"I mean what happened with Saibra," she went on, following quickly.
"Yeah, it wasn't great," Peyton sighs, pulling the ring around her neck up and down its chain absentmindedly. "But we're alive, so let's focus on that right now. We can avenge her later."
"Prioritise our survival," the Doctor affirms as he examines the door of the vault. "Only took you a century to understand. Better late than never."
"Oh, is that why you call yourself the Doctor?" Psi seethes. "Professional detachment."
The Doctor doesn't say anything for a moment, almost turning away before speaking. "Listen, when all this is over, by all means, you go and find yourself a shoulder to cry on. You'll probably need that. Until then, what you need is me!"
He turns away to a small alcove and Peyton buries her face in her hands, rubbing at the skin tiredly.
"Underneath it all, he isn't really like that," Clara says to Psi.
"It's very obvious that you've been with him for a while," Psi comments tartly.
"Why?"
"Because you are really good at the excuses."
"Another gift from the Architect," the Doctor says, producing another briefcase as Peyton looks up and sees Clara looking incredibly hurt by Psi's words. "Shall we unwrap it?"
Psi grabs it from the Doctor's hands and opens it immediately.
It's a hard drive.
Psi immediately takes out his adapter and plugs himself in and Peyton spots a small piece of paper no bigger than a credit card resting in place where the hard drive was.
She picks it up as Psi grunts, downloading the information, flicking it between her fingers for a moment before looking down to read the blank ink text on it.
TECH 251
ORG 339
PV
Gibberish. But knowing what little she does about this mysterious Architect, Peyton pockets it just as Psi seems to finish downloading.
"Right," he says, ducking into the alcove where there appears to be some sort of banking interface protecting the vault. "The system looks like it's time-delayed. There are twenty-four lock codes I need to break."
"Peyton, Doctor!" Clara turns to the both of them. "It's coming, we're trapped."
"Psi, how long?" The Doctor says urgently.
"As long as it takes," he shakes his head.
Peyton hears the growl of the Teller from within the maze of halls.
"It's locked onto one of our through trails," the Doctor guesses. "We have to split up, minimise the brain signals."
"What happened to your professional detachment, Doctor?" Psi scowls up at him, holding a hand out expectantly.
The Doctor tucks a hand into his coat pocket and produces an atomic shredder, handing it to him.
"No, no!" Clara protests.
"In case it finds me. It's my choice," Psi insists.
"You don't use that, okay? Promise me," says Clara.
"Time to run," Psi responds instead.
As Clara steps back, Peyton pats her on the back lightly and nods, sending her off with one last grim smile.
"Peyton, you need to go too," the Doctor says as Clara rounds the corner and Peyton still has not moved.
Peyton snaps into action, marching up to the Doctor and extending a hand out.
"No," he says, batting her hand down.
"You're not my boss," she insists, putting her hand up again. "You're going to sign me up to turn into soup? What happened to professional detachment?"
"I'm not your boss," the Doctor replies, grabbing her wrist tightly and staring intensely down at her. "I have no obligation to give you a one-way ticket to a place where I cannot save you. Unfortunately for all of us, I do care and you're just gonna have to live with that."
Peyton bites back the impulse to yell at him, because of course he's right. She honours their truce and nods.
"How's your head?" He asks out of seemingly nowhere.
"What?"
"Your headaches?"
"I'm... fine."
Peyton frowns. She wasn't lying, she hadn't felt the slightest hint of a headache all day. Interesting.
"Good... well, get going. We've been here far too long," the Doctor nods down the hall.
Peyton takes a long breath before shooting away from the Doctor.
• • •
Peyton skids to a halt as she hears Clara's scream echo off the walls of the corridors.
She races toward the source of the sound, though it had only lasted a few seconds.
"Come on!" Psi's voice booms over the P.A speakers. "Come and find me! Every thief and villain in one big cocktail. I am so guilty. Every famous burglar in history is hiding in this bank right now in one body. Go and feast!"
Peyton stumbles to a stop, if he downloads the files of all those criminals he'll save her! Oh God, he'll save her.
• • •
"Failed. Vault unlocking. Failed."
Peyton darts around the corner to the corridor where they had left Psi and the vault to see it empty
The Doctor and Clara arrive just seconds after her as they approach the large vault door.
Clara runs up to it and pounds her fits against the metal. She grabs the large wheel and tries to force it with a grunt.
"Clara..." Peyton tries to find any words to comfort her but can't.
"Psi..." She turns to stare defeatedly into the middle distance. "... he dies for nothing."
Peyton, frustrated and feeling useless, storms Into the alcove and presses her sonic to the interface where a circle of green dots illuminate her face, bar for one light which remains red.
"Only the last lock is still in place," Peyton grits her teeth. She crouches down and rips off a small panel in the wall and sticks her sonic inside among the wires and circuit board, hoping to find the manual override code. There's always a manual override code.
She feels the presence of her two friends move in behind her but neither of them says a word as Peyton works. She instead focuses herself on the high pitched beeping of the server, beating out a steady rhythm of four, repeating endlessly.
"It's an atomic seal," the Doctor says quietly, a tentative hand coming to rest on Peyton's shoulder. "Unbreakable even for me."
"The Architect would know that," Peyton stands up abruptly and storms out into the corridor. "Did he just bring us here all this way to kill us?"
"Peyton, calm down," the Doctor follows her, putting his hands up to try to lower her tone. "Peyton, come on think, there must be some logic."
"Some logic?" Clara glowers. "Two people have died!"
A loud rumble of thunder crashes around the building followed closely behind a loud beeping from the interface, causing the Doctor and Peyton to stare at one another in realisation.
"A storm..." the Doctor mutters.
"The storm is tripping the system," Peyton turns to the vault door.
"That's what he's got, a storm!"
"How would he know when a storm would hit?" Clara asks disapprovingly.
The Doctor laughs. "Of course! Stupid, stupid Doctor. Of course, of course!"
"Of course, what?" Peyton glares, rubbing her hands through her hair.
"Whoever planned all this, they're in the future. This isn't just a bank heist... it's a time travel heist."
"We've been sent back into the exact moment of the storm, to be in exactly the right place when it hits because that means the bank will be vulnerable," Peyton catches on.
With a great clunk, the vault door in front of them unclasps from the wall and slowly swings open.
"Vault unlocked."
"The bank is now open," the Doctor says, peering through to their destination.
As Peyton steps inside the great vault, she notices how much it resembles an archive, rows upon rows of columns, their front faces filled completely with individual drawers.
"It explains why we're not here in the Tardis," the Doctor nods.
"Sorry, what?"
"The solar disruption would have made navigation impossible," Peyton explains with a wave of her hand, looking around absentmindedly at all the numbers on each drawer, each column having its own set and each column is marked by a combination of three or four letters.
"The one time the bank is vulnerable is the one time we can't just land," the Doctor adds.
"The code!" Peyton snaps into action, she turns to Clara and the Doctor, pulling out the slip of paper she took from the case. "In the case, there was this code. I reckon this is telling us what we're here to find."
"Tech," Clara reads as Peyton hands the card to the Doctor.
"Technology," the Doctor mutters. "251. Let's find it."
• • •
"So, my next question is this," Peyton folds her arms as Clara hands Saibra's reward to the Doctor. "What is PV and what's in there for us?"
"Private vault," the Doctor assumes. "Karabraxos' own fortune?"
Peyton turns on her heel and walks out of the row of safes to try to look for any helpful pointers as to where they'll find this vault. The sooner this is all over the better.
"Ah-hem," she hears the Doctor clear his throat from a nearby row of safes. "I think he wants us to follow him."
Peyton, incredibly concerned, jogs back the way she came until she comes to a stop, eyes almost bulging out of her head as she sees the Doctor face to face with the Teller.
• • •
"Intruders are most welcome," Ms Delphox, the security woman from the atrium says with an insincere smile, sitting behind her office desk. "They remind us that the bank is pregnable. It's good for morale to have a few of you scattered about the place, preferably on view."
She stands, walking around her desk past the three handcuffed time travellers who have two guards standing close behind, to look at a wall of screens each showing a cell with someone inside who has met the unfortunate fate of the Teller.
"Are you ready for your close up?" She adjusts her cat-eye glasses casually. "If you're thinking of ways to escape, the Teller will know before you even made a move. You'll never be bothered by all that thinking again."
"Useful species," the Doctor sneers.
"Last of its kind," Ms Delphox boasts. "And we've signed an exclusive deal."
"Must be noisy inside its head," Peyton studies the creature, less scared of it now and more upset for its mistreatment. "Listening to so much chatter day in day out. So many secrets. It would drive me mad, that's for sure. How do you force it to obey?"
"Oh, everything has a price tag, I think you'll find," Ms Delphox tuts.
A clap of thunder booms and Peyton immediately watches the woman's face shift to one of fear for just a second.
"The storm's getting worse. Customers are leaving. Director Karabraxos will soon be... concerned. Our jobs will be on the line."
"You're scared," the Doctor says.
Ms Delphox chuckles. "Oh, I'm terrified. I have the disadvantage of knowing Karabraxos personally."
"If you don't like your boss, why stay?" Peyton raises an eyebrow.
"My face fits," she says with a purse of her lips. "Now... if you'll excuse me, I must take the Teller to its hibernation. You two, dispose of our guests.
Peyton for a second almost feels relieved to be spared of the fate that befalls the Teller's victims until she hears the office door slide open then shut again, leaving the three time travellers alone with the armed guards.
The guard behind Peyton turns her around and grabs her by the bicep, grabbing Clara in their other hand.
"Don't do this," the Doctor warns as all three of them are pushed up against the wall by the guards. "I've had a very bad day and I do not want to be pushed around."
"You're wrong," the guard pinning the Doctor says. He doesn't have a helmet on like Clara and Peyton's guard but his face doesn't seem to give anything away.
"Wrong?" He gawps.
"It's not that bad a day," he says as both guards let their prisoners go. "And you're being very slow."
"Why are you undoing my handcuffs?" Peyton asks cautiously as her guard slides their key into her cuffs.
"Saibra?"
Peyton looks up as the Doctor exclaims to see Saibra standing where the Doctor's guard was just seconds ago.
"It looked like death," Peyton and Clara's guards says as he unlocks Clara's handcuffs. "It was actually a teleporter."
He takes off his helmet and Psi smiles down at them.
"Oh, my stars!" Clara squeals, throwing her arms around Psi's neck.
"Good, eh?" He laughs. "You think we're dead do the Teller thinks we're dead, and we play the creature at his own mind games."
"No, no, no. Wait, wait, wait," the Doctor barges past Saibra into the middle of the room. "What? Sorry, sorry, what? You, you, you're... you're alive?"
"Yeah, we're alive. Look at us, we're all alive," Saibra chuckles,
"No, no, no, no. Not dead. Alive?"
"There's an escape ship in orbit. Takes you right there," Psi explains, passing what seems to be the dead charge of his exit strategy device. "Oh, and there's this big blue box, is that yours?"
"Oh, thank God," Peyton sighs happily, letting Clara hug her around her middle at the good news.
"Well... this is good... I suppose," the Doctor mutters. "You'll be able to resume the mission."
• • •
They could hear the classical music being played from the private vault while they were still climbing through the air vents.
The Doctor leads the way, popping off the grate so they could all step out into the room.
Marble busts, bronze statues, gold ornaments, and a sarcophagus are scattered throughout the room like an eclectic museum of the treasures of the universe.
The vault lives up to its reputation and truly contains the most amazing artefacts from all of space and history,
Over by the far wall Peyton spies a desk, a beautiful red velvet chair behind it with its high back to them. She pats the Doctor's shoulder to get his attention and points over to it.
"Director Karabraxos?" The Doctor calls. "Excuse us, but we've come to rob you."
No response.
"So if you want to put your hands above your head, or..."
Peyton trails off as the chair turns around and Ms Delphox stares back at her, hands raised by her head and somehow in a completely different outfit complete with a hair and makeup change.
"Or?" She frowns. "Oh, you don't have any weapons. That's a bit of an oversight."
She relaxes and places her hand on a communicator pad. "Security, Karabraxos here."
"You're Karabraxos?" The Doctor asks in shock, walking up to her desk, Peyton close behind him.
"One moment," she raises a finger.
"Director Karabraxos, is there a problem?" A woman's voice asks from a screen on her desk. It's her face. Peyton looks down and sees Ms Delphox sitting in her office expectantly.
"Intruders in the private vault. Send me the Teller. I want to find out how they got in, and then wipe their memories."
"She's a clone?" Peyton almost laughs.
"It's the only way to control my own security. I have a clone in every facility," Karabraxos explains. She turns back to her screen. "Get on it right away."
"Yes, of course," Ms Delphox nods.
"And then, hand in your credentials. You're fired, with immediate effect."
"But please, I've been in your service..."
"Ever since the last one let me down and I was forced to kill it. I can't quite believe that you're putting me through this again." She shuts of the screen with an exasperated sigh before looking up at her uninvited guests. "My clone, and yet, she doesn't even protest. Pale imitation, really. Ha, I should sue."
"You're killing her?" Clara shakes her head. "You just said-"
"Fired?" Karabraxos smirks. "I put all of the used clones into the incinerator. Can't have too many of moi scattered around."
"Sorry, you don't get on with your own clone?" Psi narrows his eyes at her.
"She hates her own clones," the Doctor says. "She burns her own clones. Frankly, you're a career break for the right therapist."
He pauses before his eyes go wide again. "Shut up. Everybody, just... shut up!"
"And what is this display now, as amusing as you are?"
"Shut up! Just shut up, shut up, shut up, shuttety up up up!" He clicks his fingers as he walks around the room towards Saibra. "What... what did you say? What did you say? What did you say about your own eyes? De-shut up, say it again!"
"How can you trust someone if they look back at you out of your own eyes," Saibra repeats unsurely.
The Doctor clicks his fingers and twirls back to the centre of the room. "I know one thing about the Architect. What is it that I know? I know one thing, something I've known from the very start."
"What?" Peyton urges him to get to the point.
"I hate him!" He cries. "He's overbearing, he's manipulative, he likes to think that's he's very clever. I hate him. Peyton, Clara, don't you see?" The crazy man runs across the room, picking up a large mallet and swings it at a gong. "I hate the Architect!"
"What in the name of sanity is going on in this room now?" Karabraxos scoffs.
"We're getting sanity judgement from the self burner. Do you mind if I borrow a little bit of paper?" The Doctor returns, leaning over the Director's desk.
"And what are you doing now?" She huffs as he runs over to a gold altar to scribble something onto the page.
"I'm giving you..." he pauses to blow on the ink. "My telephone number."
"Why?"
He folds the paper before scribbling again on the back. "Well, I thought you might like to call me someday. Sorry, I thought we were getting on famously, am I, like, misreading the signals or something?"
Karabraxos snatches the paper out of the Doctor's hands as thunder rumbles overhead again, despite being several floors under the ground, Peyton could see some of the artefacts wobble slightly as the pure force of the energy shakes the very foundations of the bank.
"Oh, that was a big one, wasn't it," the Doctor walks back toward Peyton and Clara with a confident smile. "I think that your bank is about to close for good Karabraxos. If I was you, I'd get going. Don't mind us, we'll just stay here and burn."
Peyton gives the Doctor a dirty look, unsure of what his plan is here Tardis-less but certainly not intending on death by solar flare.
• • •
The Teller growls through the opening elevator doors and the hairs on the back of Peyton's neck stand up as she watches the Doctor ready himself, his back turned to the creature.
"Hello, big man," the Doctor says, turning confidently. "Peckish?"
The Teller reaches its eyestalks toward each other and a pulsing beam of energy shoots down toward the Doctor who crumples the the floor with a cry.
"Doctor!" Peyton and Clara yell, running toward him.
"No! No! Let it take me!" He shouts from his knees. "Let it read me. It's the only way!"
"It will kill you!" Peyton argues.
"Oh, what have I told you about trust?" The Doctor calls back, managing to be sarcastic even when his brain is melting. He coughs under the strain. "That's it, that's it... there's so many memories in here. Feast on them. Tuck in. Big scarf, bow tie, bit embarrassing. What do you think of the new look? I was hoping for minimalism, but I think I came out with magician."
Peyton looks from the Doctor to the Teller anxiously, relieved that the Doctor is still coherent enough to speak and apparently self-aware enough to critique his own fashion choices.
"In the last few days, there's been a block," he continues with a choke. "Can you see the block? Tell me why I'm here! Show me why I'm here! Show me!"
The Teller stops. Peyton fears she blinked and missed it but no, the Doctor's head is still intact as he jumps to his feet. "Did you see... why we came? Why we're here?"
The Teller steps toward the Doctor but he backs up. The Teller seems insistent on moving however, and the Doctor keeps moving back at a safe distance.
"We had to delete our own memories otherwise you'd have known, and then she'd have known. Because you're mentally linked. But she's gone now. They've all gone. They have no power over you now. You can do exactly what you want to do now. Exactly what you've always wanted to do."
The Teller grunts and seems to look past the Doctor to the wall behind him.
Peyton turns just as the metallic scraping of an old locking mechanism brings against itself under the Teller's psycic command.
"It knows the combination," Psi gasps.
"Of course, it was linked to Karabraxos," Peyton realises.
"What exactly are we doing here? That thing killed people," Clara hisses.
"And so might you do, to protect everything you loved," the Doctor counters. "So would anyone."
As the safe door swings open Peyton's eyes widen as she sees another creature like the Teller sitting inside chained to the walls. It cries out as it sees the Teller freeing her and it calls back.
"Not the last of its species. The last two," the Doctor smiles, he turns to Peyton with an odd glint in his eye. Peyton shakes her head and mouths one word back at him. 'Sap.'
• • •
"Seven, twelve, local time, and promised," Peyton says as she lands the Tardis inside Clara's living room having said goodbye to Saibra and Psi as well as the two lovebird telepaths.
"Go and enjoy yourself," the Doctor says as class runs up the stairs onto the flight deck after fixing herself up. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
"It's a date," she shakes her head. "Wait, I just realised I'm going out for another meal now."
"Don't worry. Calories consumed on the Tardis have no lasting effect," the Doctor says as he walks around the console nodding to their empty Chinese boxes still resting on the console.
"What? Are you kidding?" She dashes around to him.
"Of course he's kidding," Peyton rolls her eyes. "It's a time machine, not a miracle worker!"
"Bye-bye," the Doctor nods.
"See you," Clara waves, heading to the doors. "Don't you two rob any banks."
"'Don't rob any banks, what?" The Doctor frowns.
"Without me," she smiles cheekily.
"Course not, boss," Peyton salutes as Clara opens the door before stepping out.
"Robbing a bank," the Doctor says turning back to the console and Peyton who is leaning against it. "Robbing a whole bank. Beat that for a date!"
"You jealous?" Peyton raising a teasing eyebrow.
"No," the Doctor scoffs. "Are you?"
"No."
Silence falls in the time machine and Peyton drums her fingers against the metal of the console edge. She clears her throat.
"I'm... I just remembered I have a... thing," Peyton says finally, lying. "A work thing. Completely slipped my mind. Wanna give me a lift?"
The Doctor looks like he's going to say something but doesn't. Instead, taking the controls with his companion to take the Tardis back into flight.