carmen_lj | The Pandora Project: The Vampire Squid

The Pandora Project

Summary: At the end of series three, the Doctor and the Master end up travelling together and totally manage not to destroy each other or the universe. More or less. Meanwhile, Martha gets a job offer from UNIT, Jack fails to realise his team are a bit useless, and there's a giant squid for no good reason whatsoever.

Rating: PG-13, mostly, as far as I can tell for these things.

Index post for the series

11 - The Vampire Squid: In which there is a blood-sucking cephalopod.

The Vampire Squid

The problem in Little Chisolm was that in the nearby lake, where children played and dogs were walked and all manner of things associated with country life took place, there was a giant squid which had gained an unfortunate and highly inconvenient appetite for blood.

As is common in English country villages, great lengths were taken in order to cover up any suggestion of something being amiss and, for some time, life went on as normal, except for the occasional and quickly hushed up death by vampire squid.

-

"Dr Jones!" Colonel Hilda Garret marched into Martha's lab holding a mobile phone at arm's length. "I need you to speak to this... gentleman. Tell him you know the Doctor or something; he seems to think I'm some sort of pen-pusher, and is being highly...uncooperative."

Martha arched an eyebrow and took the proffered phone. "Martha Jones," she said.

"Whoever the devil you are, I don't care. I'm retired and I'd quite like to spend at least a year or two having a nice, quiet time with my wife before they put me six feet under."

"I...yes, quite understand." Martha covered the phone, asked the Colonel, "Who am I speaking to?"

"What?" The Colonel was rooting around the lab bench filled with all manner of bits and pieces that Martha was attempting to catalogue. "That, Dr Jones, is Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart. Be polite, the man's a legend, if a bloody nightmare on the phone. Got more than a bit peeved off with us after the Downing Street massacre, since we had to recall a lot of retired personnel for a while, train the kids up, you know. Lot of the old guard had slipped quietly off the map and we knew that he knew where they all were. Close-knit family UNIT was, back in the old days." Garret shrugged. "General Bambera knew how to deal with him, but she's been in Geneva for months now."

"So now you want me to play diplomat?"

Garret smiled, showing a perfect set of white teeth. "But you're so good at it, got those pillocks at Torchwood eating right out of your hand."

Martha realised the phone was making noises, the tinny sound of a very annoyed voice at the other end. She put it back to her ear. "...wasting my time. Well, it's not on. Good day!"

"Brigadier, wait!"

There was a sigh at the other end. "You've ten seconds to convince me to stay on the line."

Garret gave her an encouraging nod, Martha gritted her teeth, and shot a glare back, grateful for the umpteenth time that, being a civilian, she could get away with that sort of thing. "Sorry about all this trouble, sir, but we're doing an inventory check at one of the old UNIT HQs and..." Martha took a deep breath, "...and I used to travel with the Doctor."

The voice on the other end instantly lost its gruffness. "Did you now?" he said. "How is he Miss...Jones, was it?"

"Martha Jones, yes, and he was just fine, last I saw him."

"Still saving the universe in that old TARDIS of his?"

"With a bit of help," said Martha. "It's sort of the Doctor's fault we're bothering you actually, Brigadier."

"Oh?"

"There's a lot of equipment we're clearing out of his old labs and there are pieces we can't even identify, never mind make a hazard assessment on, and we were hoping you might be able to help."

"Miss Jones, I haven't the foggiest. Half of what he did was a complete mystery to me at the time, never mind trying to remember decades later."

"Is there anyone you could put us in contact with who might be able to help?"

"Might I suggest the best idea would be to ask the Doctor himself? Of course, he never does turn up when he's actually wanted, generally there has to be a bit of a crisis first."

"No, no, that's doable," said Martha. "Say, would you like the Doctor's phone number?"

After the conversation ended, Garret raised her eyebrows, asked, "Exactly how many of the Doctor's former acquaintances are you planning on giving his number to?"

Martha grinned. "Oh, only the ones who still think of him fondly. Look, I don't have to call him. None of this stuff seems outright lethal, and he'll turn up again eventually."

"Right," said Garret, "and, naturally, he'll be able to spare a few hours during whatever oncoming apocalypse we're hoping to avoid to go through the catalogue."

Martha chewed her bottom lip, thinking. "He won't like it."

Garret shrugged. "Your call, Dr. Jones. Either way, I want all this stuff packed up and ready to ship out by the end of the week."

Martha took her own mobile out of her back pocket and stared at it as Garret left. Calling the Doctor on such a trivial matter seemed so... and yet only calling him to use him as a Get Out Of Jail Free card when UNIT ran into something they weren't sure they could deal with...

She flicked through her phonebook, and hit the call button.

-

The lab doors opened to reveal Sergeant Paterson carrying two large mugs of steaming hot tea. Martha smiled gratefully. "You're a life saver," she said, accepting the offered drink and taking a sip. Sweet and strong, it'd be enough to keep her alert and active for another few hours at least.

"Thought you might need something since it's well past midnight, Doctor," he said.

"Martha," she said automatically. "That really the time?" Paterson nodded. "Great. Just great. At this rate I should be finished in a month or so."

"You've not called him then?"

"Oh, yeah. Said he'd be around tomorrow morning. Still doesn't mean I can take the night off." She noticed the grin Paterson was trying to conceal. "What?"

Paterson shook his head. "Sorry, Miss...Doctor Jones... it's just the Doctor."

"Uh-huh," said Martha. "You got a thing for him then?"

"Ever read the old files, Dr. Jones?"

"Haven't had the chance."

"You should."

Martha raised an eyebrow. "Not classified then."

Paterson reddened noticeably. "Stuff gets around. Unofficial, like. Just stories, rumours. Not that anyone takes any notice, like."

"Course they don't. You certainly wouldn't, would you?"

"No, Doctor."

"So want to meet him because...?"

"Got a right ribbing from the lads after missing him in Wales, when I was posted in the same building he landed the TARDIS in."

With Paterson acting as a temporary lab assistant, Martha worked on, grateful for the company, until his shift ended. When she noticed the sun blinking through the curtains, she flopped down in the camp bed they'd set up for her, and promptly fell asleep.

Mid-morning, she woke and convinced a passing soldier to scrounge her up a large pot of coffee to keep her going through the day. Garret came in at eleven o'clock sharp, brandishing the local paper.

"You seen this?" she asked, spreading the paper out on the lab bench.

Martha drained her mug and peered over the Colonel's shoulder, trying to understand what the woman found so fascinating about sheepdog trials or local flower shows.

"That's the third time, Dr. Jones, inside a month." Martha followed her finger to a small article tucked away at the bottom right of the page mentioning an unfortunate and entirely accidental death in the nearby village of Little Chisolm.

"We've only been here three days," said Martha.

"I get a daily report of all media mentions of fantastic or unexplained deaths in the country."

"Oh. Right, so..."

"So this is the third unexplained death this month in Little Chisolm. It's getting beyond suspicious, and, since we just so happen to be in the area, we're investigating."

"We are?

"I'm going to go ahead and get set-up in the village. Requisition the pub for our use, start asking questions. Soon as the Doctor gets here, you follow us in."

The Colonel made to leave, but Martha stayed her. "And what about the Doctor?" she asked.

"Well," said Garret, her eyes drifting over the mess that littered the lab's workspaces, "you could always leave him here, get him to clean up his forty-year-old mess."

Martha sighed. Like that was ever going to happen.

-

"Now doesn't this just bring back memories, eh? Look at this stuff. Oh, oh, look, this circuit got roasted by that old Axon tentacle it was connected to." The Doctor tossed the thing up in the air, caught it, then threw it neatly in the bin. "Useless, Martha, it'll never work again."

"Then why didn't you chuck it when it got broken?" she asked reasonably.

The TARDIS had materialised in the driveway of the former country house, former UNIT HQ, a little past lunchtime and the Doctor had wandered in, practically effervescent, accompanied by a somewhat less thrilled Master.

The Doctor stared at Martha, looking faintly scandalised. "What, throw away apart of my beloved TARDIS when she was all I... when we were trapped together on Earth?" He snatched up another circuit, pulling on his glasses to examine it more closely. "Mmm, what do you think?" he asked, passing it to the Master.

"I think that you could have spent some time in the past thousand years cultivating better work habits. Look at this mess."

"Well, it was Martha who made it," said the Doctor.

The Master rolled his eyes. "Dr. Jones, my advice is to get rid of the lot of it. Mostly it's junk, and what's not is barely worth saving. Half of these... projects are just using Earth technology decades out-of-date. You'd probably be able to recreate their functions yourselves now, and far more elegantly."

Martha glanced at the Doctor, who shrugged helplessly. "He's got a point."

"The Colonel'll be thrilled," she said.

"Where is she anyway? asked the Doctor. "I was hoping to say hello. Good to get to know the new crowd, just incase of emergencies."

"Off to investigate a series of mysteriously unexplained deaths in a nearby village."

"Ooh, sounds exciting." Martha raised an eyebrow. "Ah, interesting," said the Doctor. "Tragic, but interesting. Any chance we could take a look?"

"If you're sure that this is all just junk..."

"Pretty much. Sorry."

"All right," she said. "I think the Colonel left me some transport."

"No TARDIS?" asked the Doctor.

"I've a job," said Martha, "and, no offence, but you have, on occasion, been known to be less than reliable controlling her."

"I'll say," added the Master.

-

Sergeant Paterson brought the jeep round to the front of the house and jumped out. He marched straight up to the Doctor, saluted, then offered his hand. The Doctor took it tentatively.

"I..." he began. "Sorry, Sergeant, have we met?"

"No, sir," he said, shaking his hand enthusiastically. "Just want to say ,sir, I'm a big fan."

"Oh." The Doctor cracked a smile. "That's very nice of you, Sergeant..."

"Paterson, sir."

"Sergeant Paterson. Thanks very much."

The Master and Martha exchanged a glance that was bordering on understanding. "I think I'm going to throw up," he muttered.

"Pardon?" said the Doctor, shooting him a look.

"I said, Doctor, that seeing you fondling the natives is making me distinctly queasy and in danger of losing my lunch."

Paterson stared at him, brow furrowing. "Say," he said, "weren't you Prime Minister?"

"Oh, for the love of..." The Master pulled open the back door of the jeep and jumped inside, muttered something about needing a new body, before he slammed the door shut.

"Doctor," said Martha, "can we get going?"

"What, right, yes, course." He let go of Paterson's hand. "Good to meet you."

"You too, sir," said the Sergeant.

Martha got into the driver's seat, pulled her seatbelt on as the Doctor joined her in the front, looking irritatingly chirpy. Honestly, the least bit of hero worship and he was over the moon.

She drove steadily through the country lanes, wishing she could go a bit faster, but the roads were narrow and full of unlikely twists and turns.

"Could you look anywhere else?" she snapped, as she glanced in the rear view mirror and saw the Master staring right back at her, not for the first time.

"So sorry, putting you off, am I? New to this driving lark, eh? Like me to take over?"

"No, thank you," she said, forcing herself to remain polite. She glanced at the Doctor, who still seemed to be basking in the glow of Paterson's adulation. "So, how's things?"

"Mmm, oh, good, good," the Doctor said. "Can't complain."

Martha was suddenly very aware of the Master's presence; he'd leaned forward and stuck his head through the gap between the two front seats. "We've started shagging. For medicinal purposes."

The Doctor's arm shot back, elbowing the Master somewhere in the neck while Martha flinched and tried to concentrate on the road ahead. "She asked," snapped the Master.

"Enough," said the Doctor roughly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, didn't you want anyone to know? Embarrassed are you? Going to have a bit of trouble explaining to the poor old humans that I had such fun slaughtering that their great big hero's gone and shacked up with me, hmm?"

"Martha, I'm sorry," muttered the Doctor.

"Don't apologise for me," said the Master.

"It's fine," Martha said, "don't...it's fine, Doctor."

She drove on, grateful for the silence that followed. The funny thing was that she hadn't really lied; it was fine. Oh, if she hadn't been in the driver's seat she was fairly sure she'd have slugged the Master across the jaw, since, if he was going to deliberately provoke her, he could damn well suffer the consequences, but the Doctor... the Doctor was a little different, just round the edges, as that manic energy seemed to have resolved into something a little softer. He was, Martha thought, a lot more relaxed than she'd ever seen him.

The Doctor was, after a fashion, happy and Martha couldn't begrudge him that, even if she did have no end of reservations about the apparent source.

-

"Mr Thomson, it's for a few days only, and I have statutory authority to be here and to make use of these premises. If you'll go with the Captain, she'll show you the paperwork we'll need you to fill out to recover your loss of earnings from the government." Garret gave the landlord her most politick smile and after another huff and string of complaints Captain Hamilton succeeded in getting the man out of her sight.

She sighed, and instantly tensed up again as the door opened, fully expecting another irate local.

"Dr Jones." Garret gave a rarer genuine smile, returned by Martha.

"Brought some reinforcements," she said. "Though I don't know how much use they'll be."

The Doctor and the Master followed her into the pub. "Colonel!" said the Doctor. "Good to see you again, got any leads? Any idea what's going on? Just point the way and... are you going to be paying for that?" He stared over the Colonel's shoulder and she turned to see the Master helping himself to a very large glass of brandy.

He arched an eyebrow and downed it. "I don't work for free, Doctor," he said as he poured a second glass.

Something in the Colonel's cheek twitched, but it was Martha who marched over and removed the bottle from his hands. The Master just looked at her, evidently not wanting to engage in something so undignified as a tussle for the brandy bottle. He held the second pilfered glass of brandy protectively, close to his chest.

"The locals aren't being very helpful," said the Colonel.

"Well, you did just come stomping in and nicked their public house, didn't you?"

"I've had quite enough of that from Mr Thomson, thank you Doctor," she said, then turned to Martha. "Now what we have managed to find out is that the three deaths occurred in a fairly small area, all within a dozen or so metres from the shoreline of the lake out by the north-west road."

"Cause of death?" asked Martha.

"Accidental drowning," said the Colonel, "at least that's what the official verdict is."

"Any chance of getting a look at the bodies?" asked the Doctor.

"Nope. Cremated, all of them."

"Looks like you're out of luck then," said the Master. "How d'you fancy seeing if you can stop a Kraal invasion instead? There's a warship passing over by Alpha Centauri and I'm sure if you send them a suitably rude message they'd love to pop over and take some pot-shots at your little island."

"The same rules," said the Colonel crisply, "apply to you as last time, but I will still lock you up if you persist in being bloody annoying."

The Master sniffed. "Oh, Hilda, you're just no fun at all."

"Anyway," the Colonel said, dismissing the Master with a glance, "we've managed to find a few locals willing to talk, and it looks like the actual cause of death is severe blood loss. We've got two separate eyewitness reports of two of the bodies describing them as abnormally white, with roughly spherical bruises on the exposed skin."

"Some sort of...amphibious vampire?" asked Martha, looking to the Doctor.

"A cephalopod, maybe?" he mused.

"Architeuthidae?" said the Master.

"Oh, mesonychoteuthis hamiltoni, given the appetite."

"Bit warm, isn't it?"

"I haven't the faintest idea what cravings for blood would do to its required living conditions, and neither do you."

"What?" demanded Garret irritably.

"Squid," said Martha. "They think there might be a giant vampire squid in the lake."

"Mmm," said the Doctor. "Well, stranger things have happened."

"Have they?" asked the Colonel..

"Oh yes," said the Doctor. "Remember Loch Ness. Now, Colonel, what are we going to do about this possible squid and it's unfortunate feeding habits?"

"Actually I did think there might be something up with the lake. I've got a sonar team out there now."

"In a boat?" asked the Doctor.

"No, these are new flying humans that we found living on a small island in the Azores last week. Of course they're in a bloody boat."

The Doctor rubbed his nose. "Colonel, given this thing can snatch humans off the shore and suck them dry quickly and quietly enough not to raise a general alarm, how d'you think it's going to feel about you shooting waves of high-frequency sound at it?"

"It's that sensitive?"

"I'd guess it would notice something was up, yes."

Garret grabbed her radio from her belt. "Trap One, this is Greyhound. Come in."

The response was quick. "Greyhound, this is Trap One."

"Sergeant, everything okay out there?"

"Yes, sir, just reached centre point. Looks like there's a lot of movement down there, sir. Something pretty big."

Garret glanced at the Doctor, his eyes were stone. "Get them out of there," he said.

"Trap One, abort immediately, get yourselves back to base."

"Sir, we've just-"

"That's an order, Sergeant," snapped Garret. "Get yourselves out of that lake now." She shut her radio off, and marched out of the pub, Martha, the Doctor and, reluctantly, the Master, following. "Keys, Jones," she said, holding out her hand. Martha passed them over. "And get in," she added as she took the driver's seat of the jeep. "The lot of you."

-

They made it to the lake just in time to confirm that the Doctor had been right.

Garret swore as she caught sight of the wave coasting over the surface, behind it the cause: rising from the water was a yellow-green mantle of extraordinary size, propelled by a eight short, stubby legs and preceded by another two tentacles twice as long as the rest of the creature, winding like snakes towards the soldiers in the boat. The squid must have been over twenty metres in length and was shooting through the water, bearing down on the boat.

The tentacles swung viciously, and its jaw opened revealing perversely sharp teeth.

The jeep shrieked to a halt and Garret jumped out, ignoring the Doctor's shout: "There's nothing you can do!"

One tentacle swung around the closer soldier, attached to the exposed skin of his face and arms. The tentacle bulged, turning a dark red as the man's blood traversed its length.

Garret pulled out her gun and took her time, aiming for the thing's eyes. She managed two shots before there was a sickening crunch, and the boat, the soldiers and the squid vanished beneath the surface of the lake.

"Could we move a little further back before it decides it wants seconds?" called the Master. The Colonel turned on her heel, a murderous look on her face. The fingers of her free hand flexed, and she holstered the gun before stalking back to the jeep.

"Well, Doctor," she said dully, "seems you were right. Now what can we do about it?"

-

"What I don't understand," said Martha, "is how a thing that size gets so far inland in the first place. Never mind surviving in such a tiny environment."

They were in Martha's lab back at UNIT HQ, the Doctor busy over an elaborate set-up of beakers and funnels and glass tubing, while the Master lay on an empty lab bench, tapping his hands over and over again as he stared up at the ceiling.

"Dumped there as a kid?" suggested the Doctor, looking faintly ridiculous with his eyes covered by a pair of thick goggles. "Underground rivers? Some mad scientist's abandoned experiment?"

"It's too big," said the Master, and Martha jumped. He hadn't spoken since they'd arrived in the lab. He sat up and crossed his legs, steepled his fingers as he ran his eyes over the Doctor's work. "You're going to have an explosion if you don't turn that Bunsen down."

"What? Oh...thanks."

"What d'you mean it's too big?" asked Martha.

"I mean, Miss...Dr. Jones, that for a cephalopod to reach that size on your planet, at this evolutionary stage in your world's development, is not possible."

"Reality would seem to contradict you."

The Master gave her a thin smile. "It often does. But that's never bothered me before."

"So it's a... mutant vampire squid?" asked Martha.

Another smile, this one seemed amused. "You people have started to tamper with your genetics, but this is something considerably more complex and seemingly pointless. Why create it? Why put it there? What is there to be achieved?"

"Why kill a tenth of the world's population when you've already won?" said Martha, her voice quiet and level.

The Master stared at her for a long moment, then nodded and jumped down from the lab bench. "Then I suppose the question is who, not why." He peered over the Doctor's shoulder. "Haven't you finished yet?"

"I'm simmering," he said. "Don't crowd me."

"This stuff's definitely going to work?" asked Martha.

"Oh, yes," the Doctor told her. "Works on humans, anyway. Usually. When they're still pretty healthy."

"Hate to tell you this , Doctor, but there're one or two differences between human and cephalopod anatomy."

"I know that, Martha. I've compensated. I think. We'll find out soon enough, anyway."

"The Colonel won't be happy."

"I'm not going to kill it, not if there's another way. Now if it's no longer craving blood, all it'll need is a good supply of, ah, fish and...other squid...maybe..."

"Doctor..."

"Besides," he said, "anything I use to kill the squid will probably poison the water and you lot are already doing a good enough job there yourselves. This stuff is standard vampire-cure circa 2564."

"2564?"

"Bit of a space-vampire war going on. Small vampires. Like you lot, not the giant ones. Who are much nastier. Anyway, if you'll just help me get some equipment from the TARDIS, we should be ready to go."

-

Martha held the sonic unit in both hands, determined not to drop it despite the encumbering weight. "How far?" she asked.

"Ah...see that tree?" said the Doctor as he finished pouring his cure into the lake.

"Yeah."

"Just there."

"You know how heavy this thing is?"

"You want to find a nice helpful soldier?"

"No," said Martha, "no, I'll be fine."

She set off on the path round the lake, watching the water carefully. The three sonar units needed to be set up in a roughly equilateral triangle to work properly. The Doctor had calibrated the things so that their sound would keep the squid docile while his vampire serum spread throughout the lake, and took effect on the squid.

The Doctor and Master went in the other direction, leaving the second sonar unit where it was, taking the third with them. "Who?" asked the Doctor, as they followed the well-worn footpath.

"Seems a very unlikely thing to have happened by mistake."

"Seems a ridiculous thing for someone to do on purpose."

"As the inestimable Martha Jones pointed out, it might be amusing to the right sort of mind."

The Doctor gave him a sharp look. "Yours?" A patch of trees broke their view of the lake, casting them in green shadows.

"A little eccentric for my tastes, Doctor. And far too much work for so little return."

"Wouldn't be much work if you were already a vampire."

"Happily, Doctor, I'm not."

When the Doctor was satisfied they'd gone far enough, he dumped the unit on the ground and switched it on. "It's only registering two signals," he said. "It's own, and the one we left behind."

"Perhaps the task was a little too simple for Dr. Jones?"

"Just incase..." the Doctor murmured, then spun and pelted back down the path.

The Master followed, shouted irritably, "Is this really necessary?"

The Doctor ignored him, ran on, round past the trees and the little stone beach and followed the path that Martha had taken. He glanced at the water and with a sinking heart noticed the disturbance on the surface, the fading ripples. "Martha! Martha, where are you?"

The path turned sharply towards the lake and he almost tripped over her. She was sickly pale, her eyes closed. He knelt by her, gently touched her neck, feeling for a pulse. "Oh, Martha."

"Oh dear," said the Master as he caught up. "Never mind. Plenty more fish in the sea and all that."

"Find the unit and switch it on," snapped the Doctor.

"I don't think-"

"Do it!"

The Master sighed, but found that the thing had rolled a little way off the path, so righted it and switched it on. When he turned back, the Doctor was already heading back towards the beach and the jeep, carrying Martha Jones in his arms.

"Now what?" said the Master as he kept pace.

"She's still alive," said the Doctor, voice harsh. "I'm going to save her."

"Humans are such fragile things, and with that much blood loss-"

"I'm going to save her," repeated the Doctor. "And you will shut up and help or by Rassilon I'll hand you over to UNIT and tell them to drop you down the deepest, darkest well they can kind find and seal it up."

"Why, Doctor, I'm almost flattered."

-

While the Doctor could do little more than hold Martha, the Master drove them back to the TARDIS at breakneck speed, taking the corners dangerously fast whilst providing a running commentary on his driving skills. As they skidded to a halt outside UNIT HQ, the Doctor threw the door open and cradled Martha as he found his key, carried her inside the TARDIS.

The Master followed him in and shut the door. The time rotor began to move. They were dematerialising.

The Doctor turned and stared at the Master as he examined the console. "What did you do?" he demanded.

"Nothing," protested the Master. "You'd have seen me. I just closed the door."

The Doctor hesitated. Every second... "What's happening? What's our course?"

"I don't know. Speed's increasing though... it can't be the regulators again. I saw them...I saw you repair them; they're in perfect working order. Gosh, that speedometer's just whizzing up."

"Slow us down then!"

"No can do. Isomorphic controls, remember? Uh-oh, we're gonna start feeling those gravities any moment now."

"I..." The Doctor glanced at Martha. "D'you know what to do, in medical?"

The Master shrugged. "You're the Doctor."

"I have to get control of the ship."

"Yes," agreed the Master.

"I'm not..." The Doctor stared at the Master, pleading. "Martha..."

"Your responsibility, not mine. Tick-tock. Tick-tock."

The Doctor could feel the strain of the speed now, the pressure beginning to build inside the TARDIS, and it would only get worse. He made his decision.

Gently, he laid Martha on the Captain's chair, and unlocked the TARDIS controls. "Do whatever you have to," he said, before lifting Martha again and moving as fast as he could towards the medical bay.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

jack-cole.livejournal.com

EEEEEEK!!!! Master using the TARDIS?! do not want!!!

hahaha, but really, once again it's an awesome installment. though such a cliffhanger.....*gasp* I need more!!!!!!!!!!

From:

i should like a hat like that

The Pandora Project: The Vampire Squid

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