The sun was hanging low, signalling that another day is drawing to an end. Malcolm slept lightly and restlessly. He tossed and turned in his bed and faces and voices swept through his mind. Faces of people he didn't know, yet at the same time seemed strangely familiar and places he didn't know of but for some reason recognised. His eyes fluttered open and he looked around the room. For the most part it looked pretty sparse even for a guest bedroom and so there wasn't much to keep Malcolm's attention drawn. He sighed deeply as he remembered everything that had been happening during the day and as he reached up and scratched his nose he could help but to resign himself to the fact that his life would end at the hands on this Braithwaite person.
A slight shiver caught him and he subconsciously pulled the sheet a little tighter to his body. After a moment he realised the chill and looked around again, more curiously trying to see the source of chill. Still not finding the source, he half closed his eyes, and there. His eyes opened widely as something seemingly unbelieveable began to happen in the room. From nowhere a small sphere of light appeared, glowing soft and constant. This was quickly followed by several smaller spheres which began to feverishly circle the first sphere which appeared.
By this time Malcolm had pulled his senses together and pulled himself out of the bed, his eyes transfixed on what was happening in front of him. More and more spheres travelling around, faster and faster, slowing getting brighter and brighter.
Curiosity caught Malcolm as he took a step forward and reached out his hand as if he was going to make contact with one of these spheres.
"Malcolm ..." a voice softly echoed through the room as if it came straight from the spheres.
At that Malcolm jumped back and gasped, his eyes wide open, darting around the room. Was this some sort of prank? Was this Gary doing all this deliberately?
Within moments as he continued to stare, it seemed the very air began to shimmer at the point where the spheres flew around and something was materialising. The figure of a young and beautiful woman. Within moments she was there, suspended in mid air, while all the while the spheres continued spinning their dance of light.
"Malcolm," the woman spoke softly and gentle.
"Who are you?" Malcolm asked softly after he managed to regain his composure.
"Listen," the woman carried on talking, "the hour is close at hand. See with your eyes the truth of your home, the solution of your puzzle will reveal a greater truth that I was unable to shed as it would surely bring a change, a change that some will feer greatly."
"I don't understand," Malcolm uttered softly, his mind beginning to reel at the meaning of her words.
"Time is short," the woman whispered. With those words the air around her began to shimmer softly and the spheres of light began to softly fade away, along with the woman. "Time is short, salvation lies within the City of Moons. Hurry ..."
With them last words the woman vanished from his sights leaving him alone once again.
"Who was she," Malcolm spoke to himself, "and how did she know who I was."
Malcolm stood there for a couple more moments before turning and walking back into the main room which he was in earlier. He closed the door and his gaze fell upon Gary who was standing in the middle of the room.
"You look lousy Malcolm," Gary commented as he looked up. "I know that look," he continued, "too much City of Moons on your mind, kind of like chasing windmills. I wish I could help you more Malcolm, I really do." Gary took a small breath and headed towards the door of his home. "Good luck," he said as he opened the door and walked out into the evening light.
Malcolm took a moment and looked around the room, "I'll get nowhere sitting around here," he sighed softly to himself. "Time to get back out there and do a little more investigating of my own, but where."
"But where?" Iris asked, getting a little more aggravated as each moment passed. "I wouldn't mind, but you still haven't introduced yourself to me."
The assassin who was walking Iris in a near frog-march stopped in the middle of the street and turned to face her.
"My name is Paul," he answered in a level tone of voice. "As for why?" he took a breath and looked at the woman standing in fron of her. Was she ready? He couldn't help but to wonder if directness was the best approach, however time was swiftly running out and he couldn't risk being subtle about the severity of the situation. "There is more going on around here at the moment than any one person can conceive Iris."
"Are you going to let me in on this, or do I have to fall back on logic to figure out the answer to that Chinese riddle?" Iris asked with a slightly raised eyebrow.
"Let's carry on walking," Paul said softly as he looked up into the evening sky. "I'm hoping that you've heard most of the history of this place from the local inhabitants."
"I know bits and pieces yes," Iris replied giving Paul a side long glance.
"I perhaps know a little more than yourself and the people that inhabit this place as I am not from around here." Paul commented as he looked at a few of the locals walk past in the opposite direction.
"Do you know who is responsible for all this going on chuck?" Iris asked, "and more importantly for what reason?"
"Have you noticed that everything that has transpired, only happened after Governor Braithwaite took control of the office."
"The genetic tagging, the ban of public literature, the twilight curfew, these were ideas proposed by or approved by this Braithwaite person," Iris said almost to herself counting them off on each finger as she did.
"Yes," Paul answered, "isn't it unusual that a person that everybody considered to be such as saviour and saint would have ulterior motives, and more to the point be so blazingly open in that way he implemented these changes that really for the most part constrict and restrict personal freedom in this town, yet, nobody has opposed or challenged him."
"Brainwashing?" Iris wondered after several moments of thinking.
"Perhaps, but I'd rather doubt it." Paul said as they turned off the main street and down along the market square. "You see the pieces that have been so carefully laid out by our illustrious Governor doesn't show the bigger picture in all of this. Would you find it conceivable if I were to say that I was part of this bigger picture? And more to the point, you Iris."
Hearing that, Iris stopped in her tracks once again. "Excuse me chuck? What part of this 'bigger plan' am I involved with?"
Paul stopped the look back at the Time Lord, smiling softly. "Tell me Iris, do you believe in destiny?"
"Oh course luv, it's all part and parcel of being a Time Lord." Iris answered smiling. She looked down and started rummaging through her handbad. After a couple of moments she pulled out a small white paper bag with had something inside and held it towards paul shaking it a couple of times.
"Would you like a jelly baby chuck?" Iris offered.
"What was that?" Anna-Marie called from the back end of the TARDIS.
"I said," came the muffled sound of Powell who was half laying underneath the TARDIS. He took a deep breath and pulled himself out, "we can try this all evening long and we may never find a way of accessing this infernal time travelling machine of hers. We must consider alternatives."
Anna-Marie shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. "How difficult is it to get access to a stupid bus!" She huffed and pointed at the TARDIS, "I mean why can't we just break one of them damned windows and climb aboard that way."
"If it was that easy Anna-Marie, I think I would have tried it by now," Powell replied brushing himself down and looking around and warehouse.
Anna-Marie looked down at her time piece and looked back up again. "Time is fast running out Powell, we do not have much longer."
"Yes," Powell muttered, "and the constant clock watching does not instil much confidence in the success of this mission."
"So, we've tried everything, have you got any more masterful plans in that cranium of yours?"
With all the constant set backs, Anna-Marie's sarcastic tone was beginning to aggravate him immensely. He turned quickly on his heels and directed his anger and frustration at the doors at the back of the bus. "Why don't you think of something smart for a change!" he burst as he swung his left leg out and using all his might launched it at the doors.
Without even preparing for what was to happen next, the doors to the bus gave in and opened under the strike of Powell's food, and the momentum sent Powell quickly inside the now open TARDIS.
Anna-Marie stood there nodding softly with a brilliant smile on her face. "I knew you would figure it out in the end."
From inside the TARDIS, there was continued silence.
"Ouch," Powell murmured after a moment, "my head..."
"Ace, my sweet, how you tire me so," the voice of Victor, the Master softly drifted across the room.
During the time she had been held against her will by Victor, she had been tortured time and time again by instruments simply too unspeakable. Her face was nearly covered in purple bruises and several cuts which seemed blood.
"I must admid a little pride in you Ace," Victor spoke as he walked over to a nearby window and looked out into the town which stretched out before him. "Your tolerance is admirable, however I do not see why you should continue to deny me the information that I desire." He looked back and gave Ace a questioning look. "The more you keep up your silence, the shorter your life will be my dear, and I'm sure neither you or me would wish that."
Ace, breahing a little raggedly raised her head slowly upwards and set her gaze upon Victor. She took a moment and a smile sly smile crossed her lips in defiance. "Welcome," she replied a little slowly, "to the stubborn side of Ace."
"Tell me, my dear," Victor spoke as he started walking back towards her, "do you have any beliefs? Every civilisation is built upon beliefs of some kind or another. You know, even the Daleks, as superior as they are have beliefs ... hmm does universal domination could as a belief?" Victor paused in mid-step and tapped his left index finger thoughtfully on his chin. "Perhaps. In any event, they exist all around us, invisible to the eye, unobtainable to the touch, but ever present."
Malcolm walked casually through the now near empty streets of Koravox. As the last shads of sinlight glimmer on the horizion, torch men walked smoothly and quietly through the streets lighting the street lantern to provide illumination.
"That woman was right," Malcolm muttered softly, "it does seem like i'm chasing windmills."
"Oh, Good Evening, Malcolm," a voice from nearby greeted him.
Turning slightly he caught the sight of Anthony in the evening light, near his home.
"Oh hi Anthony," Malcolm replied.
"Still looking for your City of Moons?" Anthony asked. "Lot of talk about that these days. Naturally. There was another traveller like you here once. Attractive of sorts, and strange."
"What do you mean strange?" Malcolm asked curiously.
"Always talking about hidden ruins at a bottom of a well." Anthony continued as he scratched his chin.
"Ruins huh?"
"But Governor Braithwaite found out," Anthony concluded, "who knows what happened to him." He turned slightly and started walking back to his house.
Seeing him walk away, Malcolm turned slightly as to carry on his investigation. Just as he took a step forward however, he heard Anthony speak again.
"You know, the season of the wind is almost upon us." Anthony commented as if it were an afterthought."
"The season of the wind?" Malcolm asked as he looked back, a little confused.
"Yes." Anthony answered. "The last time the winds blew here just about a year ago. A good strong wind is very rare here indeed. In fact it's part of what the town's about. A good strong wind brings trouble. And lots of it."
"Brings trouble huh?" Malcolm repeated softly.
"Yes," Anthony agreed, "you know come to think of it, the wind was blowing when Braithwaite's bride disappeared." Anthony opened the door and looked inside for a moment, then gave one last glance at Malcolm. "See you, Malcolm," he said before closing the door behind him.
Iris and Paul were walking through the cobbled streets of the market square, well, it was more like that Paul was walking at a brisk pace and Iris was trying her best to keep up with him, while at the same time trying to make sense of the whole situation that was unfolding around her.
"So I'm definitely supposed to be here," Iris continued, "now?"
"Yes Iris," Paul answered. He slowed a little and reached into his inside pocket. He pulled his hand out a moment later and Iris could see that he was holding some sort of device in his hand. Turning back to her, he held out his hand in a gesture for her to take it.
Iris, not really sure what he was doing took the device tentatively, and then after a moment looked down at the small glowing screen.
On the display were several pictures, one of them was of Ace and the other was of Iris.
"Wait, you knew me and my companion were going to be here. Can you see in to the future or something chuck, because if you can maybe you can tell me where Ace has gotten herself."
"No, sorry Iris," Paul answered, "I just have very good connections."
They reached the corner at the end of the market and Paul stopped in his tracks and moved himself to a nearby wall. Looking back he brought his fingers to his lips and motioned Iris to stand next to him.
Looking slowly around the corner Iris and Paul locked their gaze upon two men standing off the side of the road.
"See you, Malcom," the slightly older looking one spoke before turning and walking into what looked like his home.
"He looks a little familiar," Iris muttered softly into Paul's ear.
"Is he dangerous?" Paul asked softly not taking his gaze of the man.
Iris looked for a couple of moments and shook her head, "No I don't believe so."
They carried on staring for a few moments longer and Malcolm carried on walking away from them. Paul breathed a little easier, regardless of Iris' confidence in his innocence and they carried on walking.
Powell and Anna-Marie walked slowly around the TARDIS, the top deck of the bus seemed to have been converted into a rudimentary living area. Basic but comfortable seats adorn the center, while a series of doorways lead off, presumably to other areas like a sleeping area and a kitchen of some sorts. Typically like most TARDIS' they always seem a little bigger on the inside, despite the fact that from all outwardly appearances it was a normal bus from the planet Earth. As Anna-Marie looked around, he heard the faint voice of Powell downstairs who was communicating with their boss. Although she could make out the entire conversation, she surmised that their boss was most pleased with their results.
Taking one final glance she looked downwards and begain walking down the stairs to the bottom half of the bus.
"We have orders," Powell smiled. "We are to take this vehicle directly to our boss so we can receive final payment."
"Did he give us instructions on how to use this vehicle?" Anna-Marie asked looking around the bottom deck of the bus, which was completely decked out with all sorts of strange and bizarre monitors, dials and buttons which were blinking at random intervals.
"No," Powell replied looking at the front of the bus, "he instructed us to drive it like a conventional vehicle."
Hearing that Anna-Marie rolled her eyes visibly and sighed, "Oh dear," she murmured.
"Paul, who is this person?" Iris asked.
They had left the main roads and had begun heading towards the center of the town now.
"Who?" Paul asked back.
"Well, I've been looking at these pictures on this thingy," Iris continuted. "I've put a name to everybody except for this fellow. The one with what looks like a bald head."
Paul looked back and simply shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know I'm afraid."
"Well, that's not much of a connection you have then eh luv," Iris commented at the rather lack of information.
"Well in normal circumstances I'm usually given as much information about the person or persons I have a contract for. In the instance of that person however, there was none. Nothing at all, just that one picture. Ahh."
Iris looked up at Paul who had stopped walking. "Finally," Iris commented, "my poor feet were starting to get tired. Where are we?"
"History states there's an altar room beneath where we are standing." Paul answered looking back at Iris.
"An Altar room?" Iris answered a little surprised. "What would an Alter room be doing underneath there for goodness sake."
"Nobody really knows," Paul ansered shrugging his shoulders again, "apparently it was constructed several generation ago, but obviously none of the locals would know of it's existence."
Iris walked a few paces forward to get a better look at what Paul was standing in front of. She stood there for a moment where in the middle of some sort of courtyard was placed a rather shabby and lonesome looking wishing well.
"Well that's not inconspicuous is it," Iris commented synically as she stepped forward to take a look down the well.
"Well," Paul commented back, "I'm perhaps a little surprised that nobody has wondered why they have never been able to get water from that well, seeing as there is a bucket laying next to it on a piece of rope."
"Hmm," Iris breathed softly as she scratched her nose, "maybe I can answer that question for you chuck."
Paul looked a little inquisitively before walking across towards Iris who was looking into the well.
They looked at each other and then at the well when it approached from everywhere at once. A swift and fresh breeze that blew around Paul and Iris, and which sent the branches of a couple of nearby trees off into a merry little dance.
The wind blew swiftly through the streets of Koravox moving and rattling anything and everything that stood in it's path. Malcolm stood in the midst of trees which started moving and staying back and fourth gently dropping and blowing it's leaves all around him.
Anthony looked up briefly from where he was sitting as the wind started rattling the window covers on the front of his house. "Yes," he said to himself, "the wind always brings trouble."
"What's happening," Anna-Marie called to Powell who was frantically trying to use the equipment on the bus. The wind blew fiercely through the cracks and holes that were in the wood and brickwork and was knocking and pushing some of the crates around.
"I don't know," Powell answered, "I cannot figure where the wind came from."
Somewhere else in the town the wind was blowing a frenzy, leaves and dirt blew around almost uncontrollably, but this was somewhat different as from the casual observer the winds were blowing almost in a cylindrical manner. It seemed to be going on forever, then just as suddenly as it started, it stopped and normality returned to the town.
Well near normality.
In the same place where the strange winds blew there came a loud noise, a curious popping noise that came from nowhere fastly followed by a sound of someone yelling loudly as they fell from several feet from the ground. A couple of seconds later, whoever it was, hit the ground, hard and laid there groaning softly.
"Urgh .. Curse you," the figure managed to utter.