"We don't have a choice!"
She could feel pain shooting through her limbs, engulfing her hands and feet in flame. The only thing cooling, indeed peace-giving, was the familiar hand holding hers and the solidity of the key clasped between their palms.
"There's always a choice!"
The Doctor's voice was more of a growl than anything, but she clung to the sanity she heard at its depth.
Everywhere she looked there was swirling sand. There was nothing in her ears but rushing wind, and it sounded like a freight train. Her skirt whipped about her legs, her arms, and her back. Her bare feet were hidden under layers of those stinging, burning, rubbing sand. She couldn't see them after all. The sun was gone, blacked out by the scoring grains.
She glanced down at the gun. Its shiny metal, rough and alien in texture than any Terran gun, was barely visible. "Peri's there," she shouted. "We have to go back."
"We're in agreement on that, Tegan!"
The Doctor pulled on their combined hands and brought her in closer. She tried to see his eyes, but her own stung from the sand and she had to close them. She knew the answer. She knew what it was that they were going to have to do. . In the loud darkness, she replied. "As soon as we show up..."
His other arm snaked about her waist and drew her in to his chest. The key was in their clasped hands, pointed to the earth. "Yes, we'll be targets," he responded.
She didn't answer. The Doctor's hand tightened, pressing the key into her palm, and squeezed it between their entwined hands. It had brought them here and even now, she could feel it thrumming with power. "It's a bargaining chip," she yelled, her head sideways on his chest. Her hand avoided the crisscrossed open wounds on his back. Even so, he winced.
"At the very least..." he agreed. "It's what they've wanted for thousands of centuries."
"It could destroy their entire race," she added.
His silence let her know that he had also thought of that eventuality. Either way, she knew that the moment they returned, their lives would depend on how quickly they could move, how quickly they could dodge and run, and she was so tired already. Weary to her bones, but far from ready to give up, she nodded. "We have a choice of what to do with it, but we don't have a choice of where to take it...we have to go back."
She could feel him nod. His voice sounded more private, less projecting. "Take a deep breath, Tegan. No time like the present. As soon as you feel the world solidify, run. Don't look for me. Don't wait...I'll be right behind you. If you hesitate..."
"You don't have to tell me twice, Doc," she replied. She felt him reach behind her and press the now familiar button on his wrist. As the world began to melt like a watercolor in the rain, she heard his voice against the side of her ear. "Brave heart, Tegan. It'll take more than this to kill us."
And then, as usual, there was nothing.
She could feel pain shooting through her limbs, engulfing her hands and feet in flame. The only thing cooling, indeed peace-giving, was the familiar hand holding hers and the solidity of the key clasped between their palms.
"There's always a choice!"
The Doctor's voice was more of a growl than anything, but she clung to the sanity she heard at its depth.
Everywhere she looked there was swirling sand. There was nothing in her ears but rushing wind, and it sounded like a freight train. Her skirt whipped about her legs, her arms, and her back. Her bare feet were hidden under layers of those stinging, burning, rubbing sand. She couldn't see them after all. The sun was gone, blacked out by the scoring grains.
She glanced down at the gun. Its shiny metal, rough and alien in texture than any Terran gun, was barely visible. "Peri's there," she shouted. "We have to go back."
"We're in agreement on that, Tegan!"
The Doctor pulled on their combined hands and brought her in closer. She tried to see his eyes, but her own stung from the sand and she had to close them. She knew the answer. She knew what it was that they were going to have to do. . In the loud darkness, she replied. "As soon as we show up..."
His other arm snaked about her waist and drew her in to his chest. The key was in their clasped hands, pointed to the earth. "Yes, we'll be targets," he responded.
She didn't answer. The Doctor's hand tightened, pressing the key into her palm, and squeezed it between their entwined hands. It had brought them here and even now, she could feel it thrumming with power. "It's a bargaining chip," she yelled, her head sideways on his chest. Her hand avoided the crisscrossed open wounds on his back. Even so, he winced.
"At the very least..." he agreed. "It's what they've wanted for thousands of centuries."
"It could destroy their entire race," she added.
His silence let her know that he had also thought of that eventuality. Either way, she knew that the moment they returned, their lives would depend on how quickly they could move, how quickly they could dodge and run, and she was so tired already. Weary to her bones, but far from ready to give up, she nodded. "We have a choice of what to do with it, but we don't have a choice of where to take it...we have to go back."
She could feel him nod. His voice sounded more private, less projecting. "Take a deep breath, Tegan. No time like the present. As soon as you feel the world solidify, run. Don't look for me. Don't wait...I'll be right behind you. If you hesitate..."
"You don't have to tell me twice, Doc," she replied. She felt him reach behind her and press the now familiar button on his wrist. As the world began to melt like a watercolor in the rain, she heard his voice against the side of her ear. "Brave heart, Tegan. It'll take more than this to kill us."
And then, as usual, there was nothing.