Absolute darkness pressed against the window on the outside of the police call box as it hovered in an empty corner of space. Inside, the expanse of rooms was brightly lit, and the three passengers involved themselves in various activities.
The Doctor was poring over an abstruse volume with pages covered in mathematical formulae. He nodded his head occasionally, appearing pleased with the information revealed in the book. He stood against the wall, several yards from the console of the TARDIS, glancing with less and less frequency at the complex machinery in the center of the room as his attention became more fully absorbed in the text.
Turlough had immersed himself in reading, too. His material, however, was a collection of Shakespeare's plays. He had read several while in school, and he found them to be an intriguing window into the culture of seventeenth century Earth. He was currently reading the first act of "The Tempest", chuckling to himself at the premise of a man's controlling the weather. He had seen much greater powers in his travels with the Doctor.
In another room, Tegan stood next to the TARDIS's version of a microwave. She could not recall the Doctor's full explanation about the contraption's use of some sort of waves-- had he said they were gamma rays?-- but she did remember how to work the machine, and now she waited for the container of water inside to boil. When she saw bubbles forming in the water through the clear plastic door, she pushed the button that stopped the heating. She opened the door and reached inside, removing the container and pouring the hot water into a teapot. A metal teaball, filled with a delicious blend of Darjeeling and orange pekoe given to her by her grandfather during a recent visit to Little Hodcombe, hung from the rim. Tegan watched the steam rise for a moment before placing the lid on top of the pot. After several minutes, she lifted the teapot and tilted it over a cup.
Without warning, the floor beneath her lurched, sending Tegan forward and hurtling the teapot and cups to the ground. She fell to her knees; hot water splashed over her hands as the teapot shattered on the hard floor. When she had regained some semblance of balance, she sat back on her heels, shaking her hands with building anger, sending droplets of tea across the room.
"Of all the stupid times--" she muttered. She took the handle of the broken teapot in her fingers and stood, scowling. Her heels clicked purposefully as she walked from the room.
"Doctor," she said briskly, entering the console room and holding out the china fragment, "I wish you could at least warn us when we're going to have a jolt like that."
The Doctor was hunched over the console, and he did not acknowledge her.
"I mean, really," she continued, her voice rising, "it's broken the teapot and ruined the last of the tea, not to mention nearly scalding me--"
The Doctor looked up, running his eyes over her quickly. She stood with the handle still thrust out. Her skirt was wet, and her hands were red.
"Are you all right?" he asked, stepping toward her.
Her ire had not yet dissipated. "No, I'm not! My skirt's ruined, and the tea's gone."
"But you aren't burned?" He lifted her hand; she still gripped the teapot fragment.
"No," she said, "but the teapot's still broken."
He dropped her hand and returned to the console, squatting to peer underneath it. "You might run some cold water over your hands," he suggested, his voice echoing slightly against the column.
"You know," she said with exasperation, "an apology wouldn't hurt. I was making the tea for you." She turned and stalked out of the room, nearly colliding with Turlough in the doorway.
"What happened?" he asked.
She brushed past him without responding. Turlough shook his head and stepped into the console room.
"Is there a problem?" he queried.
The Doctor lay on his back, his arms outstretched and hidden beneath the console. "Perhaps-- a small one," he responded. After a moment, he pulled himself forward and sat up. "Actually, the difficulty itself is quite small, but the solution may require a rather larger effort."
"What's wrong?"
"One of the cylinders necessary for engagement of the gravitational stabilizer mechanism seems to be sticking."
"Oh. Isn't the usual solution to a sticking part some sort of grease?"
"Yes," the Doctor answered, "that is the usual solution, but the TARDIS is a rather unusual machine. These elements create a significant heat when engaged, so any substance used on them must be heat resistant."
"What can you use? What do you have here?"
The Doctor rested his arms over his upraised knees. "Unfortunately, nothing appropriate. I hadn't anticipated this particular problem for some time."
The Doctor stood just as the TARDIS jerked sharply again. He scrabbled forward to maintain his balance. Turlough tumbled toward the console, grabbing the edge to prevent himself from hitting the floor completely. As the two men righted themselves, Tegan stormed into the room.
"Doctor!" she said with considerable irritation, "what's going on?"
The Doctor responded calmly. "As I was explaining to Turlough, one of the cylinders is in need of a substance to prevent its catching on its chamber."
"Like grease?" she asked.
"Rather, yes. But I need a substance capable of withstanding heat up to at least 2000 degrees. I think," he paused, glancing back toward the console, "that molybdenum would do the trick."
"Molybdenum?" Tegan repeated. "Isn't that one of the elements?"
"Very good, Tegan," the Doctor said, "I see that you attended at least briefly during chemistry lessons."
Tegan's eyes narrowed, but Turlough spoke before she could.
"That's found on Earth. I remember that it was on the periodic table-- symbol M-o, atomic number 42."
The Doctor nodded. "Yes, you're right, but I think that we can find a source closer than Earth." He had taken up a large book and opened it. "Here," he said, pointing at a page. "The planet Aseyla has some stores of molybdenum, and they're easily accessible. Surface rocks contain small clusters of it."
The TARDIS shuddered slightly; Tegan reached for the console. "What are we waiting for?"
The Doctor hesitated. "Aseyla isn't the most hospitable planet."
"What do you mean?" asked Tegan. "Is the atmosphere bad?"
"No," he responded, "it's quite breathable -- it's very similar in chemical structure to Earth."
"What is it, then?" Tegan continued. "Some sort of dreadful creatures guarding the rocks?"
"No, Tegan, nothing like that," the Doctor said. "It's inhabited by humans, but their society is considerably less evolved than Earth's."
"Less evolved -- which means what? Are we talking about cavemen?" Tegan asked.
"Actually, that might be easier for us," the Doctor replied. "Anthropologically speaking, the Aseylians are at an early stage of civilization. They have given up their nomadic lifestyle and begun settling in villages; there is some basic specialization of labor as well. They've begun using metals for tools and weapons--"
"I don't see a problem," Tegan interjected.
"There may not be one. However, the information I have about the Aseylians indicates that their environment is harsh. The planet emerged from an ice age several hundred years ago, but the climate is still bitter. Life is a struggle for them; a difficult survival often leads by necessity to fewer societal norms."
"So you're saying these people are rough," Tegan stated.
"Yes, I suppose that's an apt word to express it," the Doctor responded.
"We've dealt with hostile people before," Turlough offered.
"Of course, but these people may be particularly wary of strangers, and I'm afraid that their methods for dealing with conflict are rather rudimentary. We won't find diplomacy here." The Doctor gripped the console once again as the TARDIS rocked under his feet. "However," he continued, "we don't seem to have much choice in the matter."
He deftly programmed the destination into the machine and cautioned, "Hang on" as they shuddered to rest on Aseyla.
---------------
Tegan looked out the window to find a gray sky and scrubby trees. A few branches had small, brownish buds on them; she supposed these would grow into leaves. The thinner branches trembled as wind swept over them.
"It looks cold," she commented.
"Yes," the Doctor said, "it is. It's early spring here, though it won't grow more than a few degrees warmer even during the summer. We'll need wraps, and you'll want to cover your legs." He glanced at Tegan's bare thighs beneath the short skirt she wore.
Tegan and Turlough hurried to procure warmer clothing. After a brief stop in the laboratory, the Doctor fetched a cape as well. When the three gathered near the door a few minutes later, Tegan was surprised to see that the Doctor's wrap was roughly constructed of animal skins. It looked cozy but old, and not entirely clean.
"Where did you get that?" she asked.
"A better question might be when," he said. "It's from a Northern European tribe who inhabited the Scandinavian peninsula in the Earth's ninth century."
"Vikings?" inquired Turlough.
The Doctor did not respond to this. Instead, he stepped away, returning a minute later with two similar capes. "I think these would be more appropriate for each of you. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves here."
Tegan had donned a slightly longer leather skirt with dark tights and knee-high boots. She had chosen an attractive crimson wool coat as well, but she sighed and set it aside in favor of the cloak. The garment was rather musty, but it was admittedly warm.
"Now," said the Doctor, tying two leather cords on the front of Tegan's cape to close it over her waist, "we should make this stop as quickly as possible. We need to find a source of molybdenum, which should be present in flat rock formations here. It would be best if we weren't seen by the inhabitants-- I'd rather avoid interactions, if at all possible. It will make this visit a great deal easier."
Tegan and Turlough exchanged slightly worried glances as the Doctor continued. "It will be most efficient if I focus my energies on identifying the appropriate rocks, while you two remove as many of them as possible. Once we have several kilos of ore, we should have a sufficient supply of molybdenum to see us to a better source. We only need to extract a few grams for the cylinders, at least for the immediate future."
The Doctor bent to pick up several tools that lay on the floor. "We'll need these," he said, handing a pick to Turlough. He held a crowbar and a hammer.
"Doctor," Tegan protested, "surely you can find better tools than these. Don't you have a sonic pry bar or something like that?"
"I'm afraid we'll have to rely on good, old-fashioned elbow grease here," the Doctor responded. "The Aseylians are at a very early stage of technological development. They have a few simple tools, such as axes and chisels, but the next few centuries will bring continued advances. We can't permit them to see any tools that are outside of their own current technology. You both know how the Time Lords feel about interfering with societies' development."
Turlough nodded in acknowledgment; Tegan merely sighed.
The Doctor moved his hand to the lever which opened the door. Tegan noticed that he seemed to hesitate for just a moment before pressing the switch upward. He turned back to his companions, saying, "Right, then, let's go," as he walked toward the door.
A rush of chilly air swirled into the TARDIS the moment the door opened. Tegan shivered despite her cloak. As they stepped outside, they saw a bleak landscape. The skeletal trees grew in small clusters, perhaps five or six together, but gaps of open field stretched between them. As good fortune would have it, the TARDIS had materialized beside one of the clusters, and the blue box was partially obscured from a casual passing view by the branches. The blue paint seemed almost steely gray against the stark sky.
The Doctor surveyed the landscape. He nodded toward his left. "There's a village over there," he said.
Tegan and Turlough could see a vague silhouette of low buildings and several wisps of smoke rising in the distance.
The Doctor continued to look around. "Ah," he said after a moment, "if I'm not mistaken, I believe we may have found our rocks."
He gestured to the right of the village. Tegan squinted and saw what appeared at first to be low hills perhaps three kilometers away. The wind stung her eyes, and she blinked quickly several times. When her vision cleared slightly, she could discern the craggy outline of the distant mounds.
"Rock formations," the Doctor was saying, already walking in their direction. Tegan and Turlough followed, keeping their heads down in the fierce wind. There was little conversation as they moved steadily along. The wind seemed to propel them from behind, although it swirled oddly in all directions. Tegan thought she would ask the Doctor to explain this later.
As they approached the rocks, they could see that the mounds were really stony hills. Peering ahead, the Doctor said, "I see several large openings. There should be caves inside."
He lead the way toward one of the broad fissures, ducking inside momentarily then gesturing to them to follow. Tegan was glad for the shelter the rocky tunnel provided; her skin felt raw from the constant battering of the wind. She had found it difficult to draw a solid breath for the last several minutes, too; the frigid air seemed to infiltrate her lungs. She took a deep breath, then coughed in the arid environment of the cave.
The Doctor had sprinted ahead; the cold and wind appeared to have little effect on him. He had withdrawn a flashlight from his cloak, muttering something about keeping it well out of sight should they encounter Aseylians. Now he focused the beam on the walls and floor of the tunnel.
Tegan's eyes gradually adjusted to the dim light. She looked around at the interior of the cave. The tunnel appeared somewhat shallow; she judged it to be twenty to thirty meters deep. The Doctor was already some distance ahead, and Turlough lagged behind.
Tegan glanced back, saying, "Come on, Turlough."
She took several steps forward, but an odd noise behind her stopped her movement. She turned back.
"Turlough?" she asked cautiously. She listened to the rasping sound near the cave entrance. She thought at first that it was merely the wind, but as she focused her attention on the noise it sounded more human.
"Turlough?" she repeated, her voice softer and hesitant now. She could see his silhouette in the vague light. He stood still with his head bent. After a moment she realized that the noise emanated from him.
Tegan walked back toward the young man. As she approached him, she could clearly hear that the grating sound was Turlough's breathing.
"What's the matter?" she asked as she neared his side.
He coughed dryly and said, "Trouble... breathing."
Tegan took his arm and led him further into the cave. "Doctor!" she called.
"What is it?" came his response.
"It's Turlough. You'd better get back here."
She steered Turlough toward a wall and eased him against it. He still struggled to draw breaths, but she thought that he sounded incrementally better.
The Doctor appeared next to her in a moment. "What's wrong?" he asked, immediately noting Turlough's difficulty.
"He's having trouble breathing," Tegan responded.
The Doctor nodded. "Obviously. Turlough, are you asthmatic?" he asked.
Turlough shook his head. "Never was," he gasped.
The Doctor swept Turlough's cape back over his shoulder and rested his ear against the young man's chest. After a moment he looked up. "I'm afraid that you are now."
"He's got asthma?" Tegan asked the Doctor.
"Apparently so. Most likely it was triggered by something in the environment. Here," he said, resting his hand on Turlough's shoulder, "don't struggle. Take small breaths."
He removed a handkerchief from his pocket and held it over Turlough's nose and mouth. "This will act as a filter. It's a Gallifreyan microfabric that removes impurities from the air-- quite handy in cases of fire or noxious gases."
Turlough inhaled and exhaled more regularly, and after a minute or so he appeared to breathe with little difficulty. He lowered the cloth, but the Doctor said, "Keep it in place. When did you begin having trouble breathing?"
Turlough's voice was muffled through the fabric, but he said, "About half-way here. I thought it was just the wind and the cold, but it didn't improve when we stepped inside."
"The atmosphere here is slightly different in chemical structure from many other habitable planets we've visited. There is one element not present on Earth or on your planet, Turlough: dimythenium 7 on the intergalactic periodic tables. Most likely this triggered the asthma. Tegan, you're not experiencing any difficulties, are you?"
"No," Tegan answered, "nothing I wouldn't expect in this kind of weather."
The Doctor nodded. "I've found some evidence of molybdenum ahead. I was about to examine the rocks when you called to me. Turlough, stay here, and keep that cloth over your nose and mouth. It will reduce the concentration of the dimythenium 7. Tegan, come with me."
He retrieved the pick, which Turlough had dropped near the entrance. They walked toward the back of the tunnel. The Doctor shone the light along the ground. "Here," he said, bending to touch the rocks. "This gray dust is molybdenite, which means that these rocks contain molybdenum."
"That's good, but what about Turlough? Is he going to be all right?"
"He needs to get back to the TARDIS as soon as possible. If he remains inside, he should be fine. The cloth will permit him to breathe with some normalcy until he can return. You'll have to take him back."
"You won't need my help here?"
The Doctor did not respond immediately. He continued to shine the flashlight beam around the floor. "This is odd," he murmured.
"What?" Tegan asked.
"Most of these rocks have been removed. Do you see where these gouges are? The rocks were pried up. There's only enough molybdenum here for a few centiliters of lubricant."
"That's not enough?"
"No. And I'm afraid that the TARDIS will have considerable difficulty traveling until I can provide a smooth chamber for those cylinders."
"Maybe some of the other caves contain the right rocks," Tegan suggested.
"I saw only two other openings. I'll check those, of course, as well as other nearby formations. In the meantime," he bent down and tapped at the ground with the pick, "I'll have you take these back to the TARDIS."
After several more well-executed hits, three fist-sized chunks of stone lay next to his feet. He lifted them into his hands and held them out to Tegan.
She took them with a mild exclamation. "These are heavy!"
"Your cloak has several large pockets. I'd suggest you put them in there."
Tegan complied, feeling the weight quite distinctly as the garment pulled at her shoulders.
The Doctor began to walk back toward Turlough. Tegan followed slowly. By the time she reached the men, the Doctor was ushering Turlough toward the entrance.
"Ah, Tegan, come along," the Doctor said, stepping out into the chill.
Tegan was somewhat sorry to leave the relative warmth of the cave, and she was not pleased with the considerable extra weight of the rocks. She knew that the trek back to the TARDIS would not be easy.
"When you get inside the TARDIS," she heard the Doctor saying to Turlough, "increase the oxygen saturation in the air. Do you remember which dial that is? Tegan, do you know? Good. You're going to be quite winded, Turlough; you may even feel as though you can't breathe, but continue to hold the cloth over your face until the oxygen level increases. Once you're inside, don't leave the TARDIS for any reason. That applies to you, too, Tegan."
Turlough nodded.
The Doctor looked at Tegan and continued, "After Turlough is settled, I want you to go to the laboratory. I've set out a large container filled with solution. Place the rocks in it; this will begin extracting the molybdenum."
"All right," she said.
"Off you go, then," he finished, already turning toward another cave opening. "And Tegan," he said, "see that he keeps that cloth in place."
The Doctor ducked inside the cave without a second glance.
"Let's go," Tegan said. Turlough merely nodded, still clasping the kerchief securely over his face.
---------------
The Doctor had explored all three caves; the only molybdenum he had found was the small supply in the first cave. The necessary rocks had been forcibly removed from each of the three caves. He was not certain why this had been done. The Aseylians would not require such an element for their rudimentary technology. He felt a growing concern about who, or what, needed this substance.
In the swirling wind he had not noticed the tracks leading away from the caves upon initial inspection. Now, however, he could see deep wheel marks in the dry earth. A cart had been used to take the rocks away. The tracks lead in the direction of the village. The Doctor could tell that they were fresh, probably less than a few hours old, as they were free of much of the blowing debris carried by the winds.
Perhaps he could catch up to the cart and its driver. With luck, he might be able to remove a few more rocks surreptitiously. Without such luck, he would need to negotiate with the Aseylians. He hoped that the former situation would prevail.
Leaving the tools just inside a fissure, he began following the tracks, walking at a good pace, relatively unaffected by the weather. After a time, he could see a dark spot ahead; he increased his stride. As he glanced back at the tracks, he noted that the left one was wavering.
Within a few minutes, he could discern a cart drawn by a large, woolly animal. Next to it walked a group of men; there appeared to be at least half a dozen. He kept some distance behind them. Their attentions seemed focused ahead. He noticed that the ground had begun a gradual downward slope. The animal was struggling as the laden cart, impelled by gravity, began pressing toward it. The men fought to keep the cart back, grunting and cursing in their efforts.
One man chanced to look behind him as he grasped the side of the cart. "Oy!" he shouted, "who're you?"
The Doctor looked about quickly. There was only open space on all sides. Before he could respond, several of the men yelled, "Get 'im!"
---------------
Tegan was utterly exhausted. She had supported Turlough for the last kilometer; he was struggling to breathe, despite the cloth held tenaciously to his face. The extra mass of the rocks, combined with Turlough's weight, were draining the last of her strength.
When the TARDIS came into view, barely visible amid the brush and the background of sky, she dropped to her knees on the ground.
"We have to keep going," Turlough murmured through the cloth. He swayed next to her; he needed her assistance to remain on his feet.
"I can't--" she began, then shook her head. She reached into her pockets and removed the rocks. She saw Turlough's eyes widen as she stood, but she said, "I'll come back for them in a few minutes, as soon as I get you inside."
He nodded, and she put his arm over her shoulder again. She was still terribly tired, but she found the strength to stumble ahead. The TARDIS lay a half a kilometer away. With measured steps, each one requiring considerable force of will, Tegan dragged herself and Turlough toward the blue box.
She collapsed against the door for a minute; Turlough slumped to the ground. His hand fell away from his face, and the cloth dropped to the hard earth. Tegan reached upward for the lock and allowed the door to sway open as she pressed her weight against it. She crawled inside, hauling Turlough by the shoulders. As soon as he had cleared the door, she closed it and forced herself to creep to the console. There she adjusted the oxygen, just as the Doctor had instructed. She permitted herself to lie back against the solid column for several minutes.
When she had regained a modicum of strength, she made her way back to Turlough. He was breathing, thankfully; she could see his chest rise and fall. She sat next to him for several minutes more, until he opened his eyes and looked at her.
"The stones," he said hoarsely, "did you get them?"
"They can wait a little longer," she replied.
"But we need them," Turlough objected, "we can't get away from here without them." Turlough's distress at continued exposure to the deleterious environment was evident in his eyes.
Tegan sighed. "All right."
She rose on unsteady legs. Once she had retrieved the rocks, she could collapse on her bed, wrap herself in a warm quilt, and sleep. That thought drove her forward out into the biting wind once again.
She walked toward the area where she had dropped the rocks. Her thoughts were focused singularly on retrieving the important objects. She was still enervated, and the wind assailed her fiercely, seeming to blow directly into her face. She squinted against it, and tears stung continuously at her irritated eyes. She rubbed them over and over again, trying to clear her vision. Finally she kept her head down, preventing some of the assault on her face and permitting her to see the ground fairly clearly.
She heard the wind howling. It echoed in her ears, confusing her senses. By the time she realized that some of the noise was made by human voices, the group of men was fully upon her.
Tegan looked up to see four men coming toward her. They wore capes similar to hers and fur caps on their heads. All had bushy beards and appeared burly.
"What have we here?" one man bellowed to his companions.
Tegan turned to run, but another man approached her rapidly from behind.
"Look," she began, "I'm just here to pick up some rocks--"
"Silent!" a florid man thundered at her. The others seemed to surround her. She could smell musky fur, sweat, and something quite similar to ale.
"Wait just a minute," she protested, but the ruddy man bent and wrapped his arms around her waist with considerable speed.
She looked down at her feet. The boots she wore had tapered heels, quite sharp at the tips. The men's shoes appeared to be made of skins. She lifted her leg and brought the heel of her boot down solidly on her assailant's foot. He howled in pain, then hoisted her roughly over his shoulder. She felt his arms tighten around her waist. She struggled, wriggling against his sturdy grip. He squeezed his arms around her, causing her to cry out in considerable discomfort. She felt her ribs shift, and she thought she heard a crackling noise. She sincerely hoped that it had not come from her.
The man's grip did not relent. Tegan found it difficult to draw a breath. She gasped, thinking for a moment of Turlough and how he must have felt. She tried pounding at the man with her fists, but somehow he had enclosed her arms in his grasp. As she felt him begin to walk, her body was jarred against his shoulder with every step he took. Each jolt seemed to force more air out of her lungs. She simply could not inhale.
The darkness that surrounded her was almost a comfort; it released her from the unyielding pressure of the man's steel clutch.
---------------
The Doctor stood firmly in place as several of the men stormed toward him. He was not surprised by their appearance or behavior; indeed, these were precisely the reasons he had hoped to avoid any interactions with them. However, as they neared him, his eyes darted around quickly.
By the time the men were a few feet from him, he had begun to move. He dashed through them; his build was much more lithe than theirs, which gave him an agility unmatched by their bulk. They shouted and reached for him. One managed to grab the edge of his cape.
"Let me go!" the Doctor demanded, his voice uncharacteristically strong in his urgency. He pointed toward the wagon with his hand.
The men followed his gesture. Several cursed as they saw the woolly beast's final struggle against the wagon's weight. The left wheel had partially detached, which pushed the cart forward even more. With another turn or two of the wheel, the cart would collapse, spilling the heavy rocks against the animal.
"I can help," the Doctor said, glancing back at the hand that still held his cloak.
The man did not relinquish his grip, so the Doctor swiftly removed the cape and sprinted forward, withdrawing the flashlight from his pocket as he moved. The wheel had begun to turn. The animal bellowed in fear and pain as it felt the weight and pressure against it increasing.
The Doctor fell to his knees next to the wheel and inserted the flashlight between the spokes. As the metal cylinder caught against the bottom of the wagon bed with the upward motion of the wheel, the movement ceased; but the cart still teetered forward, thrust by gravity toward the beast. The Doctor stood quickly and peered over the side of the cart. After a moment, he withdrew a chunk of rock as large as his two hands and shaped something like a wedge. He set it in front of the wheel; the cart rocked back slightly.
The animal snorted in instinctual relief. The Doctor patted the thatch of thick, shaggy fur atop its head.
The men now approached the Doctor again, but their expressions contained less of the animosity and mistrust that they had earlier. The tallest man, whose wrap was tied with finely braided cords, spoke.
"You've saved our animal. We have few left. We thank you." He nodded curtly at the visitor.
"You're quite welcome," the Doctor said, retrieving his cape and wrapping it around his shoulders.
The man, who the Doctor had quickly surmised was the leader among this group, spoke again. "You're not from our village. You're from away?"
"Yes, quite far away," the Doctor responded.
"Oh, one of the Far People. They're light like you."
The Doctor smiled an acknowledgment; there was no need to discourage this mistaken belief.
"Come with us," the man said, jerking his head toward the village.
"Oh, I should get back to my people--" the Doctor began, but the man interrupted him.
"No. We'll thank you. That's our way. Come."
The Doctor saw mistrust beginning to grow in the men's faces. They had moved into a circle around him. There was no possibility that he could escape them, and the fact remained that he needed some of their cargo. Once in the village, he was certain that he could slip away and remove several rocks unseen.
"Very well, then," he said. "After you."
The men looked at him quizzically as they turned toward the village. The cart remained still; two men stood next to it, unmoving.
"What about your wagon?" the Doctor inquired to the leader.
"They'll fix it and come later," the man answered. He stopped abruptly and thrust a finger toward the Doctor's chest. "I'm Gorrob."
"Gorrob," the Doctor repeated, "and I am called the Doctor."
"Dock Turr," Gorrob said. "Come."
The Doctor quickly bent to retrieve his flashlight from the wheel. The stone he had placed in front prevented the wheel from moving. Gorrob and the others looked at the flashlight with curiosity before the Doctor tucked it back into his pocket.
"What's that?" one man asked.
"Oh, just a metal stick," the Doctor responded casually. The men appeared satisfied with this brief answer, and conversation ceased for the most part.
The small party trudged forward through the wind toward the village ahead. The Doctor glanced back at the wagon and its valuable cargo once more. He had already spent more time with the Aseylians than he would have liked. He hoped that the remainder of their interaction would be brief. However, he would have to bide his time until the moment was right for him to creep away. It was important that he avoid arousing their suspicion.
As he watched the men, he felt a sense of relief, at least, knowing that Tegan and Turlough were locked safely inside the TARDIS. At least they would not be exposed to this dangerous and indurate society.
The Doctor was poring over an abstruse volume with pages covered in mathematical formulae. He nodded his head occasionally, appearing pleased with the information revealed in the book. He stood against the wall, several yards from the console of the TARDIS, glancing with less and less frequency at the complex machinery in the center of the room as his attention became more fully absorbed in the text.
Turlough had immersed himself in reading, too. His material, however, was a collection of Shakespeare's plays. He had read several while in school, and he found them to be an intriguing window into the culture of seventeenth century Earth. He was currently reading the first act of "The Tempest", chuckling to himself at the premise of a man's controlling the weather. He had seen much greater powers in his travels with the Doctor.
In another room, Tegan stood next to the TARDIS's version of a microwave. She could not recall the Doctor's full explanation about the contraption's use of some sort of waves-- had he said they were gamma rays?-- but she did remember how to work the machine, and now she waited for the container of water inside to boil. When she saw bubbles forming in the water through the clear plastic door, she pushed the button that stopped the heating. She opened the door and reached inside, removing the container and pouring the hot water into a teapot. A metal teaball, filled with a delicious blend of Darjeeling and orange pekoe given to her by her grandfather during a recent visit to Little Hodcombe, hung from the rim. Tegan watched the steam rise for a moment before placing the lid on top of the pot. After several minutes, she lifted the teapot and tilted it over a cup.
Without warning, the floor beneath her lurched, sending Tegan forward and hurtling the teapot and cups to the ground. She fell to her knees; hot water splashed over her hands as the teapot shattered on the hard floor. When she had regained some semblance of balance, she sat back on her heels, shaking her hands with building anger, sending droplets of tea across the room.
"Of all the stupid times--" she muttered. She took the handle of the broken teapot in her fingers and stood, scowling. Her heels clicked purposefully as she walked from the room.
"Doctor," she said briskly, entering the console room and holding out the china fragment, "I wish you could at least warn us when we're going to have a jolt like that."
The Doctor was hunched over the console, and he did not acknowledge her.
"I mean, really," she continued, her voice rising, "it's broken the teapot and ruined the last of the tea, not to mention nearly scalding me--"
The Doctor looked up, running his eyes over her quickly. She stood with the handle still thrust out. Her skirt was wet, and her hands were red.
"Are you all right?" he asked, stepping toward her.
Her ire had not yet dissipated. "No, I'm not! My skirt's ruined, and the tea's gone."
"But you aren't burned?" He lifted her hand; she still gripped the teapot fragment.
"No," she said, "but the teapot's still broken."
He dropped her hand and returned to the console, squatting to peer underneath it. "You might run some cold water over your hands," he suggested, his voice echoing slightly against the column.
"You know," she said with exasperation, "an apology wouldn't hurt. I was making the tea for you." She turned and stalked out of the room, nearly colliding with Turlough in the doorway.
"What happened?" he asked.
She brushed past him without responding. Turlough shook his head and stepped into the console room.
"Is there a problem?" he queried.
The Doctor lay on his back, his arms outstretched and hidden beneath the console. "Perhaps-- a small one," he responded. After a moment, he pulled himself forward and sat up. "Actually, the difficulty itself is quite small, but the solution may require a rather larger effort."
"What's wrong?"
"One of the cylinders necessary for engagement of the gravitational stabilizer mechanism seems to be sticking."
"Oh. Isn't the usual solution to a sticking part some sort of grease?"
"Yes," the Doctor answered, "that is the usual solution, but the TARDIS is a rather unusual machine. These elements create a significant heat when engaged, so any substance used on them must be heat resistant."
"What can you use? What do you have here?"
The Doctor rested his arms over his upraised knees. "Unfortunately, nothing appropriate. I hadn't anticipated this particular problem for some time."
The Doctor stood just as the TARDIS jerked sharply again. He scrabbled forward to maintain his balance. Turlough tumbled toward the console, grabbing the edge to prevent himself from hitting the floor completely. As the two men righted themselves, Tegan stormed into the room.
"Doctor!" she said with considerable irritation, "what's going on?"
The Doctor responded calmly. "As I was explaining to Turlough, one of the cylinders is in need of a substance to prevent its catching on its chamber."
"Like grease?" she asked.
"Rather, yes. But I need a substance capable of withstanding heat up to at least 2000 degrees. I think," he paused, glancing back toward the console, "that molybdenum would do the trick."
"Molybdenum?" Tegan repeated. "Isn't that one of the elements?"
"Very good, Tegan," the Doctor said, "I see that you attended at least briefly during chemistry lessons."
Tegan's eyes narrowed, but Turlough spoke before she could.
"That's found on Earth. I remember that it was on the periodic table-- symbol M-o, atomic number 42."
The Doctor nodded. "Yes, you're right, but I think that we can find a source closer than Earth." He had taken up a large book and opened it. "Here," he said, pointing at a page. "The planet Aseyla has some stores of molybdenum, and they're easily accessible. Surface rocks contain small clusters of it."
The TARDIS shuddered slightly; Tegan reached for the console. "What are we waiting for?"
The Doctor hesitated. "Aseyla isn't the most hospitable planet."
"What do you mean?" asked Tegan. "Is the atmosphere bad?"
"No," he responded, "it's quite breathable -- it's very similar in chemical structure to Earth."
"What is it, then?" Tegan continued. "Some sort of dreadful creatures guarding the rocks?"
"No, Tegan, nothing like that," the Doctor said. "It's inhabited by humans, but their society is considerably less evolved than Earth's."
"Less evolved -- which means what? Are we talking about cavemen?" Tegan asked.
"Actually, that might be easier for us," the Doctor replied. "Anthropologically speaking, the Aseylians are at an early stage of civilization. They have given up their nomadic lifestyle and begun settling in villages; there is some basic specialization of labor as well. They've begun using metals for tools and weapons--"
"I don't see a problem," Tegan interjected.
"There may not be one. However, the information I have about the Aseylians indicates that their environment is harsh. The planet emerged from an ice age several hundred years ago, but the climate is still bitter. Life is a struggle for them; a difficult survival often leads by necessity to fewer societal norms."
"So you're saying these people are rough," Tegan stated.
"Yes, I suppose that's an apt word to express it," the Doctor responded.
"We've dealt with hostile people before," Turlough offered.
"Of course, but these people may be particularly wary of strangers, and I'm afraid that their methods for dealing with conflict are rather rudimentary. We won't find diplomacy here." The Doctor gripped the console once again as the TARDIS rocked under his feet. "However," he continued, "we don't seem to have much choice in the matter."
He deftly programmed the destination into the machine and cautioned, "Hang on" as they shuddered to rest on Aseyla.
---------------
Tegan looked out the window to find a gray sky and scrubby trees. A few branches had small, brownish buds on them; she supposed these would grow into leaves. The thinner branches trembled as wind swept over them.
"It looks cold," she commented.
"Yes," the Doctor said, "it is. It's early spring here, though it won't grow more than a few degrees warmer even during the summer. We'll need wraps, and you'll want to cover your legs." He glanced at Tegan's bare thighs beneath the short skirt she wore.
Tegan and Turlough hurried to procure warmer clothing. After a brief stop in the laboratory, the Doctor fetched a cape as well. When the three gathered near the door a few minutes later, Tegan was surprised to see that the Doctor's wrap was roughly constructed of animal skins. It looked cozy but old, and not entirely clean.
"Where did you get that?" she asked.
"A better question might be when," he said. "It's from a Northern European tribe who inhabited the Scandinavian peninsula in the Earth's ninth century."
"Vikings?" inquired Turlough.
The Doctor did not respond to this. Instead, he stepped away, returning a minute later with two similar capes. "I think these would be more appropriate for each of you. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves here."
Tegan had donned a slightly longer leather skirt with dark tights and knee-high boots. She had chosen an attractive crimson wool coat as well, but she sighed and set it aside in favor of the cloak. The garment was rather musty, but it was admittedly warm.
"Now," said the Doctor, tying two leather cords on the front of Tegan's cape to close it over her waist, "we should make this stop as quickly as possible. We need to find a source of molybdenum, which should be present in flat rock formations here. It would be best if we weren't seen by the inhabitants-- I'd rather avoid interactions, if at all possible. It will make this visit a great deal easier."
Tegan and Turlough exchanged slightly worried glances as the Doctor continued. "It will be most efficient if I focus my energies on identifying the appropriate rocks, while you two remove as many of them as possible. Once we have several kilos of ore, we should have a sufficient supply of molybdenum to see us to a better source. We only need to extract a few grams for the cylinders, at least for the immediate future."
The Doctor bent to pick up several tools that lay on the floor. "We'll need these," he said, handing a pick to Turlough. He held a crowbar and a hammer.
"Doctor," Tegan protested, "surely you can find better tools than these. Don't you have a sonic pry bar or something like that?"
"I'm afraid we'll have to rely on good, old-fashioned elbow grease here," the Doctor responded. "The Aseylians are at a very early stage of technological development. They have a few simple tools, such as axes and chisels, but the next few centuries will bring continued advances. We can't permit them to see any tools that are outside of their own current technology. You both know how the Time Lords feel about interfering with societies' development."
Turlough nodded in acknowledgment; Tegan merely sighed.
The Doctor moved his hand to the lever which opened the door. Tegan noticed that he seemed to hesitate for just a moment before pressing the switch upward. He turned back to his companions, saying, "Right, then, let's go," as he walked toward the door.
A rush of chilly air swirled into the TARDIS the moment the door opened. Tegan shivered despite her cloak. As they stepped outside, they saw a bleak landscape. The skeletal trees grew in small clusters, perhaps five or six together, but gaps of open field stretched between them. As good fortune would have it, the TARDIS had materialized beside one of the clusters, and the blue box was partially obscured from a casual passing view by the branches. The blue paint seemed almost steely gray against the stark sky.
The Doctor surveyed the landscape. He nodded toward his left. "There's a village over there," he said.
Tegan and Turlough could see a vague silhouette of low buildings and several wisps of smoke rising in the distance.
The Doctor continued to look around. "Ah," he said after a moment, "if I'm not mistaken, I believe we may have found our rocks."
He gestured to the right of the village. Tegan squinted and saw what appeared at first to be low hills perhaps three kilometers away. The wind stung her eyes, and she blinked quickly several times. When her vision cleared slightly, she could discern the craggy outline of the distant mounds.
"Rock formations," the Doctor was saying, already walking in their direction. Tegan and Turlough followed, keeping their heads down in the fierce wind. There was little conversation as they moved steadily along. The wind seemed to propel them from behind, although it swirled oddly in all directions. Tegan thought she would ask the Doctor to explain this later.
As they approached the rocks, they could see that the mounds were really stony hills. Peering ahead, the Doctor said, "I see several large openings. There should be caves inside."
He lead the way toward one of the broad fissures, ducking inside momentarily then gesturing to them to follow. Tegan was glad for the shelter the rocky tunnel provided; her skin felt raw from the constant battering of the wind. She had found it difficult to draw a solid breath for the last several minutes, too; the frigid air seemed to infiltrate her lungs. She took a deep breath, then coughed in the arid environment of the cave.
The Doctor had sprinted ahead; the cold and wind appeared to have little effect on him. He had withdrawn a flashlight from his cloak, muttering something about keeping it well out of sight should they encounter Aseylians. Now he focused the beam on the walls and floor of the tunnel.
Tegan's eyes gradually adjusted to the dim light. She looked around at the interior of the cave. The tunnel appeared somewhat shallow; she judged it to be twenty to thirty meters deep. The Doctor was already some distance ahead, and Turlough lagged behind.
Tegan glanced back, saying, "Come on, Turlough."
She took several steps forward, but an odd noise behind her stopped her movement. She turned back.
"Turlough?" she asked cautiously. She listened to the rasping sound near the cave entrance. She thought at first that it was merely the wind, but as she focused her attention on the noise it sounded more human.
"Turlough?" she repeated, her voice softer and hesitant now. She could see his silhouette in the vague light. He stood still with his head bent. After a moment she realized that the noise emanated from him.
Tegan walked back toward the young man. As she approached him, she could clearly hear that the grating sound was Turlough's breathing.
"What's the matter?" she asked as she neared his side.
He coughed dryly and said, "Trouble... breathing."
Tegan took his arm and led him further into the cave. "Doctor!" she called.
"What is it?" came his response.
"It's Turlough. You'd better get back here."
She steered Turlough toward a wall and eased him against it. He still struggled to draw breaths, but she thought that he sounded incrementally better.
The Doctor appeared next to her in a moment. "What's wrong?" he asked, immediately noting Turlough's difficulty.
"He's having trouble breathing," Tegan responded.
The Doctor nodded. "Obviously. Turlough, are you asthmatic?" he asked.
Turlough shook his head. "Never was," he gasped.
The Doctor swept Turlough's cape back over his shoulder and rested his ear against the young man's chest. After a moment he looked up. "I'm afraid that you are now."
"He's got asthma?" Tegan asked the Doctor.
"Apparently so. Most likely it was triggered by something in the environment. Here," he said, resting his hand on Turlough's shoulder, "don't struggle. Take small breaths."
He removed a handkerchief from his pocket and held it over Turlough's nose and mouth. "This will act as a filter. It's a Gallifreyan microfabric that removes impurities from the air-- quite handy in cases of fire or noxious gases."
Turlough inhaled and exhaled more regularly, and after a minute or so he appeared to breathe with little difficulty. He lowered the cloth, but the Doctor said, "Keep it in place. When did you begin having trouble breathing?"
Turlough's voice was muffled through the fabric, but he said, "About half-way here. I thought it was just the wind and the cold, but it didn't improve when we stepped inside."
"The atmosphere here is slightly different in chemical structure from many other habitable planets we've visited. There is one element not present on Earth or on your planet, Turlough: dimythenium 7 on the intergalactic periodic tables. Most likely this triggered the asthma. Tegan, you're not experiencing any difficulties, are you?"
"No," Tegan answered, "nothing I wouldn't expect in this kind of weather."
The Doctor nodded. "I've found some evidence of molybdenum ahead. I was about to examine the rocks when you called to me. Turlough, stay here, and keep that cloth over your nose and mouth. It will reduce the concentration of the dimythenium 7. Tegan, come with me."
He retrieved the pick, which Turlough had dropped near the entrance. They walked toward the back of the tunnel. The Doctor shone the light along the ground. "Here," he said, bending to touch the rocks. "This gray dust is molybdenite, which means that these rocks contain molybdenum."
"That's good, but what about Turlough? Is he going to be all right?"
"He needs to get back to the TARDIS as soon as possible. If he remains inside, he should be fine. The cloth will permit him to breathe with some normalcy until he can return. You'll have to take him back."
"You won't need my help here?"
The Doctor did not respond immediately. He continued to shine the flashlight beam around the floor. "This is odd," he murmured.
"What?" Tegan asked.
"Most of these rocks have been removed. Do you see where these gouges are? The rocks were pried up. There's only enough molybdenum here for a few centiliters of lubricant."
"That's not enough?"
"No. And I'm afraid that the TARDIS will have considerable difficulty traveling until I can provide a smooth chamber for those cylinders."
"Maybe some of the other caves contain the right rocks," Tegan suggested.
"I saw only two other openings. I'll check those, of course, as well as other nearby formations. In the meantime," he bent down and tapped at the ground with the pick, "I'll have you take these back to the TARDIS."
After several more well-executed hits, three fist-sized chunks of stone lay next to his feet. He lifted them into his hands and held them out to Tegan.
She took them with a mild exclamation. "These are heavy!"
"Your cloak has several large pockets. I'd suggest you put them in there."
Tegan complied, feeling the weight quite distinctly as the garment pulled at her shoulders.
The Doctor began to walk back toward Turlough. Tegan followed slowly. By the time she reached the men, the Doctor was ushering Turlough toward the entrance.
"Ah, Tegan, come along," the Doctor said, stepping out into the chill.
Tegan was somewhat sorry to leave the relative warmth of the cave, and she was not pleased with the considerable extra weight of the rocks. She knew that the trek back to the TARDIS would not be easy.
"When you get inside the TARDIS," she heard the Doctor saying to Turlough, "increase the oxygen saturation in the air. Do you remember which dial that is? Tegan, do you know? Good. You're going to be quite winded, Turlough; you may even feel as though you can't breathe, but continue to hold the cloth over your face until the oxygen level increases. Once you're inside, don't leave the TARDIS for any reason. That applies to you, too, Tegan."
Turlough nodded.
The Doctor looked at Tegan and continued, "After Turlough is settled, I want you to go to the laboratory. I've set out a large container filled with solution. Place the rocks in it; this will begin extracting the molybdenum."
"All right," she said.
"Off you go, then," he finished, already turning toward another cave opening. "And Tegan," he said, "see that he keeps that cloth in place."
The Doctor ducked inside the cave without a second glance.
"Let's go," Tegan said. Turlough merely nodded, still clasping the kerchief securely over his face.
---------------
The Doctor had explored all three caves; the only molybdenum he had found was the small supply in the first cave. The necessary rocks had been forcibly removed from each of the three caves. He was not certain why this had been done. The Aseylians would not require such an element for their rudimentary technology. He felt a growing concern about who, or what, needed this substance.
In the swirling wind he had not noticed the tracks leading away from the caves upon initial inspection. Now, however, he could see deep wheel marks in the dry earth. A cart had been used to take the rocks away. The tracks lead in the direction of the village. The Doctor could tell that they were fresh, probably less than a few hours old, as they were free of much of the blowing debris carried by the winds.
Perhaps he could catch up to the cart and its driver. With luck, he might be able to remove a few more rocks surreptitiously. Without such luck, he would need to negotiate with the Aseylians. He hoped that the former situation would prevail.
Leaving the tools just inside a fissure, he began following the tracks, walking at a good pace, relatively unaffected by the weather. After a time, he could see a dark spot ahead; he increased his stride. As he glanced back at the tracks, he noted that the left one was wavering.
Within a few minutes, he could discern a cart drawn by a large, woolly animal. Next to it walked a group of men; there appeared to be at least half a dozen. He kept some distance behind them. Their attentions seemed focused ahead. He noticed that the ground had begun a gradual downward slope. The animal was struggling as the laden cart, impelled by gravity, began pressing toward it. The men fought to keep the cart back, grunting and cursing in their efforts.
One man chanced to look behind him as he grasped the side of the cart. "Oy!" he shouted, "who're you?"
The Doctor looked about quickly. There was only open space on all sides. Before he could respond, several of the men yelled, "Get 'im!"
---------------
Tegan was utterly exhausted. She had supported Turlough for the last kilometer; he was struggling to breathe, despite the cloth held tenaciously to his face. The extra mass of the rocks, combined with Turlough's weight, were draining the last of her strength.
When the TARDIS came into view, barely visible amid the brush and the background of sky, she dropped to her knees on the ground.
"We have to keep going," Turlough murmured through the cloth. He swayed next to her; he needed her assistance to remain on his feet.
"I can't--" she began, then shook her head. She reached into her pockets and removed the rocks. She saw Turlough's eyes widen as she stood, but she said, "I'll come back for them in a few minutes, as soon as I get you inside."
He nodded, and she put his arm over her shoulder again. She was still terribly tired, but she found the strength to stumble ahead. The TARDIS lay a half a kilometer away. With measured steps, each one requiring considerable force of will, Tegan dragged herself and Turlough toward the blue box.
She collapsed against the door for a minute; Turlough slumped to the ground. His hand fell away from his face, and the cloth dropped to the hard earth. Tegan reached upward for the lock and allowed the door to sway open as she pressed her weight against it. She crawled inside, hauling Turlough by the shoulders. As soon as he had cleared the door, she closed it and forced herself to creep to the console. There she adjusted the oxygen, just as the Doctor had instructed. She permitted herself to lie back against the solid column for several minutes.
When she had regained a modicum of strength, she made her way back to Turlough. He was breathing, thankfully; she could see his chest rise and fall. She sat next to him for several minutes more, until he opened his eyes and looked at her.
"The stones," he said hoarsely, "did you get them?"
"They can wait a little longer," she replied.
"But we need them," Turlough objected, "we can't get away from here without them." Turlough's distress at continued exposure to the deleterious environment was evident in his eyes.
Tegan sighed. "All right."
She rose on unsteady legs. Once she had retrieved the rocks, she could collapse on her bed, wrap herself in a warm quilt, and sleep. That thought drove her forward out into the biting wind once again.
She walked toward the area where she had dropped the rocks. Her thoughts were focused singularly on retrieving the important objects. She was still enervated, and the wind assailed her fiercely, seeming to blow directly into her face. She squinted against it, and tears stung continuously at her irritated eyes. She rubbed them over and over again, trying to clear her vision. Finally she kept her head down, preventing some of the assault on her face and permitting her to see the ground fairly clearly.
She heard the wind howling. It echoed in her ears, confusing her senses. By the time she realized that some of the noise was made by human voices, the group of men was fully upon her.
Tegan looked up to see four men coming toward her. They wore capes similar to hers and fur caps on their heads. All had bushy beards and appeared burly.
"What have we here?" one man bellowed to his companions.
Tegan turned to run, but another man approached her rapidly from behind.
"Look," she began, "I'm just here to pick up some rocks--"
"Silent!" a florid man thundered at her. The others seemed to surround her. She could smell musky fur, sweat, and something quite similar to ale.
"Wait just a minute," she protested, but the ruddy man bent and wrapped his arms around her waist with considerable speed.
She looked down at her feet. The boots she wore had tapered heels, quite sharp at the tips. The men's shoes appeared to be made of skins. She lifted her leg and brought the heel of her boot down solidly on her assailant's foot. He howled in pain, then hoisted her roughly over his shoulder. She felt his arms tighten around her waist. She struggled, wriggling against his sturdy grip. He squeezed his arms around her, causing her to cry out in considerable discomfort. She felt her ribs shift, and she thought she heard a crackling noise. She sincerely hoped that it had not come from her.
The man's grip did not relent. Tegan found it difficult to draw a breath. She gasped, thinking for a moment of Turlough and how he must have felt. She tried pounding at the man with her fists, but somehow he had enclosed her arms in his grasp. As she felt him begin to walk, her body was jarred against his shoulder with every step he took. Each jolt seemed to force more air out of her lungs. She simply could not inhale.
The darkness that surrounded her was almost a comfort; it released her from the unyielding pressure of the man's steel clutch.
---------------
The Doctor stood firmly in place as several of the men stormed toward him. He was not surprised by their appearance or behavior; indeed, these were precisely the reasons he had hoped to avoid any interactions with them. However, as they neared him, his eyes darted around quickly.
By the time the men were a few feet from him, he had begun to move. He dashed through them; his build was much more lithe than theirs, which gave him an agility unmatched by their bulk. They shouted and reached for him. One managed to grab the edge of his cape.
"Let me go!" the Doctor demanded, his voice uncharacteristically strong in his urgency. He pointed toward the wagon with his hand.
The men followed his gesture. Several cursed as they saw the woolly beast's final struggle against the wagon's weight. The left wheel had partially detached, which pushed the cart forward even more. With another turn or two of the wheel, the cart would collapse, spilling the heavy rocks against the animal.
"I can help," the Doctor said, glancing back at the hand that still held his cloak.
The man did not relinquish his grip, so the Doctor swiftly removed the cape and sprinted forward, withdrawing the flashlight from his pocket as he moved. The wheel had begun to turn. The animal bellowed in fear and pain as it felt the weight and pressure against it increasing.
The Doctor fell to his knees next to the wheel and inserted the flashlight between the spokes. As the metal cylinder caught against the bottom of the wagon bed with the upward motion of the wheel, the movement ceased; but the cart still teetered forward, thrust by gravity toward the beast. The Doctor stood quickly and peered over the side of the cart. After a moment, he withdrew a chunk of rock as large as his two hands and shaped something like a wedge. He set it in front of the wheel; the cart rocked back slightly.
The animal snorted in instinctual relief. The Doctor patted the thatch of thick, shaggy fur atop its head.
The men now approached the Doctor again, but their expressions contained less of the animosity and mistrust that they had earlier. The tallest man, whose wrap was tied with finely braided cords, spoke.
"You've saved our animal. We have few left. We thank you." He nodded curtly at the visitor.
"You're quite welcome," the Doctor said, retrieving his cape and wrapping it around his shoulders.
The man, who the Doctor had quickly surmised was the leader among this group, spoke again. "You're not from our village. You're from away?"
"Yes, quite far away," the Doctor responded.
"Oh, one of the Far People. They're light like you."
The Doctor smiled an acknowledgment; there was no need to discourage this mistaken belief.
"Come with us," the man said, jerking his head toward the village.
"Oh, I should get back to my people--" the Doctor began, but the man interrupted him.
"No. We'll thank you. That's our way. Come."
The Doctor saw mistrust beginning to grow in the men's faces. They had moved into a circle around him. There was no possibility that he could escape them, and the fact remained that he needed some of their cargo. Once in the village, he was certain that he could slip away and remove several rocks unseen.
"Very well, then," he said. "After you."
The men looked at him quizzically as they turned toward the village. The cart remained still; two men stood next to it, unmoving.
"What about your wagon?" the Doctor inquired to the leader.
"They'll fix it and come later," the man answered. He stopped abruptly and thrust a finger toward the Doctor's chest. "I'm Gorrob."
"Gorrob," the Doctor repeated, "and I am called the Doctor."
"Dock Turr," Gorrob said. "Come."
The Doctor quickly bent to retrieve his flashlight from the wheel. The stone he had placed in front prevented the wheel from moving. Gorrob and the others looked at the flashlight with curiosity before the Doctor tucked it back into his pocket.
"What's that?" one man asked.
"Oh, just a metal stick," the Doctor responded casually. The men appeared satisfied with this brief answer, and conversation ceased for the most part.
The small party trudged forward through the wind toward the village ahead. The Doctor glanced back at the wagon and its valuable cargo once more. He had already spent more time with the Aseylians than he would have liked. He hoped that the remainder of their interaction would be brief. However, he would have to bide his time until the moment was right for him to creep away. It was important that he avoid arousing their suspicion.
As he watched the men, he felt a sense of relief, at least, knowing that Tegan and Turlough were locked safely inside the TARDIS. At least they would not be exposed to this dangerous and indurate society.