And all the time, Rose could only think of the Doctor, coming to rescue her, walking straight into the Cybermen’s trap. She had to do something. She had to get out of here and warn him. She had a plan, and for once, she was glad Mickey always made her watch those Steve McQueen war movies on TV every Boxing Day.

“Hey!” she called. “Hey! Is there anybody there?”

She stopped and listened for movement outside the door. None.

“Hey! Come on! I need the loo!”

She listened again, straining to hear if there was a guard outside the door. Of course, these things were so quiet there could have been one standing in the room in the dark and she wouldn’t have known. The thought gave her chills.

“Please! I’m desperate! I’m bursting to go!”

Then she heard the muted whooshing of the door and felt the cool air; but it wasn’t fresh air, it had an oily tang she hadn’t noticed before.

“Come on! Quick! I can’t hold it much longer! Let me down!”

The dull thuds of an approaching Cyberman came down a corridor adjacent to the cell. Rose squeezed her eyes and pictured the room. She now knew there was a passage leading left from the door, but the Cyberman had come that way both times.

As the metal giant entered the room, the dull grey light came on.

“You’ve gotta let me down,” Rose pleaded.

“Why?” the Cyberman droned.

“I need to use the bathroom.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to pee!” she cried.

The Cyberman regarded her for a second, then began to turn. “The human female identified as Rose must in no circumstance be released.”

“Hey! Wait; no, don’t go!”

The Cyberman ignored her and headed toward the open doorway.

“I’m going to pee all over your floor!”

“That is acceptable,” were the Cyberman’s final words.

Then the door whooshed shut again and the lights rapidly dimmed.

Rose spent the next couple of minutes scowling in the dark. If the Cybermen had night-vision (and she suspected they did) they would have seen how miffed she was that it hadn’t worked. Unfortunately, she was not Steve McQueen, and this was not a movie. Her next bright idea was decidedly more risky.

“Hey! Come back! I want to talk!”

Once again she had to shout out for about half a minute before the door opened and the Cyberman returned. She wondered if it was the same one each time, or if they all looked alike. Perhaps there was only one.

“I was lying before,” she told it.

“We know.” If it was impatient with her, its voice didn’t betray that.

“I don’t mean about needing to pee,” she said quickly. “God knows I really do need to go. I mean about the tracking device in my neck.”

The Cyberman didn’t say anything.

“There isn’t one,” she went on. “I just said that so you’d think someone was coming to rescue me and would let me go.”

“The Timelord identified as the Doctor does not know you are here?”

“Not unless you told him, buddy.”

“You are lying.”

“Not this time I’m not. Check my neck. There’s nothing there. The Doctor’s got no way of knowing where I am.” This was actually the truth, and it was only as she said it that it struck her in all its alarming veracity.

The Cyberman said nothing, but almost instantly, Rose heard another set of dull thuds approaching the cell. So much for there only being one, Rose thought. Two more Cybermen came into the room, walking in perfect synchronicity.

“H-hi,” Rose said to disguise a loud gulp, as both of the Cybermen came up to her and lifted flashing, whirring devices up to her neck.

These Cybermen, she noticed, were silver all over, unlike her usual guard, who had a black trim, particularly on its head. Apart from that, though, they were identical. They ran their devices the length and breadth of her body.

“There is no tracking device,” one said.

Rose put on an apologetic smile. “Sorry, folks, it looks like the Doctor’s not going to be making any house-calls today after all.”

The Cyberman with the black trim lifted a hand and the two newcomers left the room. The door did not whoosh shut again behind them.

“The primary function of the human female identified as Rose is inducement,” the Cyberman reminded her, its light shining into her eyes.

“I’m not inducing anybody stuck in here.”

The Cyberman reached out to the panel on the wall and in an instant, the clasps around Rose’s wrists and ankles were gone. Her arms fell and stopped tingling as blood rushed back into her hands. She rubbed them together.

“You will come with me,” the Cyberman said.

“Where are we going first,” said Rose, sticking close to the wall.

“The primary function of the human female identified as Rose is inducement; you will record a transmission that will bring the Doctor to us.”

Rose shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“You will come with me.”

“No.”

“You will come with me.”

“I said I’m not going!”

The Cyberman took a step toward her. “The sole function of the human female identified as Rose is inducement.”

Rose had never heard it emphasise particular words in such a way. Perhaps this was what a Cyberman was like when it got angry.

“You will come with me.”

Rose chewed her tongue. “All right, but I want to pee first.”

“You have had that opportunity.”

“I’m not going on the floor! I want to use a toilet like civilised people!”

“The Cyberman race do not require a toilet.”

Rose decided not to wind it up any further by bringing up her point about ‘civilised people’. “Then find me a flippin’ bush, okay?”

“You will come with me.”

“No.”

“You will come with me.”

“No; you’ve heard my terms.”

“We do not negotiate.”

Rose snorted. “Then you better kill me now.” She hoped to God they hadn’t heard of calling her bluff. “Because I’m not going anywhere otherwise. And then you can just go and try and find the Doctor on your own.”

The Cyberman said nothing for a few moments, then it took a step back and said, “Your needs will be provided for. You will come with me.”

“Thank you,” Rose said sharply.

She didn’t believe the Cyberman for a second. But she was no longer bound to the cell wall and a moment later the Cyberman was herding her out the door, following so closely behind she thought she could hear its internal mechanisms whirring above the cacophony of throbbing and rushing.

As expected, the Cyberman prodded her to go left outside the door. The long, curved passage was lit by strip-lights and went right at the door as well.

In one swift move, Rose fell to the floor in a tight ball and performed a Swedish drop-roll right between the Cyberman’s legs. It groped for her with a hand of metal talons as big as her head, but she was too fast for it. She might not have been Steve McQueen, but she had been her high school gymnastics champion.

A few seconds later, she was on her feet and running. She charged past the cell door and went into the right-hand passage, and the Cybermen came chasing after her.

NOTES:
For the record, it's not deus ex machina that Rose has the gymnastic ability to escape the Cybermen. It was established in the first episode of the new series, when Rose swings across a chasm beneath the London Eye to kick a vial of anti-plastic into the Nestene blob. However, it WAS deus ex machina that she suddenly managed to do that in that episode, because it hadn't been set up. Luckily for me, that in itself was sufficient establishment for her skills here. As for a Swedish drop-roll, there may be such a thing, but I made it up. There are rolls that have funny names like that, because I remember having to learn them in PE in Year Seven, but all I could think of was Swiss roll. I suppose that's what comes of writing when you're hungry.

Considered but cut from this chapter was a line where the Cyberleader tells Rose that they want the Doctor because HE is the curse of the Cybermen. And despite an unintended preoccupation with Rose's bodily functions, I spared my dear readers a last sentence whereby Rose 'defaces' Cybermen property.