25
BOOK BURNING
The four glistening columns of tangerine light thickened, expanded upwards then released a cascade of sparkles that bounced off each other as well as the atoms of the melting air. Within this display arms and legs took form, a trunk and finally a head and from out of this bright, inquiring eyes studied new surroundings.
Once fully solid within the transmat cocoon the woman took a deep breath and stepped forwards out of the fading, dissolving pyrotechnics getting down off a narrow silver plinth. She wasn't tall but there was about her an air of distinguished importance, a natural authority born of high birth and scholarly achievement from an early age.
Now in her mid thirties she was attractive and poised in a stylish red two-piece outfit totally different from the clothing of her native world; a planet that no longer existed making her the last of her kind and thus unique – in more ways than one.
Nyssa had a face that frowned easily usually in concentration but now with mild alarm, there was nobody here to greet her not a soul about and yet she had communicated her imminent arrival from both deep and near space, and then again once her shuttle went into orbit. She was mildly annoyed but her overriding emotion was one of disquiet – it was utterly silent within the room and the galleries beyond no voices, no footsteps no bleep of terminals…nothing.
Raising her left wrist Nyssa accessed the bracelet device wrapped around it to speak softly giving her name and ident code; both vital requirements in this sector of space. The lack of response was suffocating not even the standard computer automated reply of welcome.
Moving over to a smooth surface of wall Nyssa touched this with two fingers and a blueprint of the complex flashed up showing every room, corridor and level. No life signs, no motion, no thermal signature save her own.
No wait what was that – level two area nine, a flash of red, a hint of movement, a pulsation – it was a definite life sign a person someone alive. Nyssa asked the system for ident details.
Entity unknown.
Fear twisted inside her, no unknown alien entities could get in here it was impossible the force fields, the internal computer and the automated drones were all programmed to react at once to anything hostile.
Glad she had brought her own weapon Nyssa took it out and checked it, the thing felt strange in her small soft hands; she wasn't used to guns and personally found them offensive but sadly they had their place; sometimes you needed to defend yourself and she felt sure this was a case in point. Oh Nyssa why are you so indispensable she asked herself, you're supposed to be a scientist not some inter galactic trouble shooter cum cop?
Too talented her own teachers would have said; too versatile a true polymath and far too curious for her own good. Yes she was all of these and more, a girl who became a woman who couldn't keep out of trouble.
Unsealing the transmat room door she stepped out into the library proper and tripped over the body landing on her palms, gun temporarily dropped. The body lay across the door on its side, arms out thrust face frozen in a scream, eyes bulging. It was or had been a man but it wasn't a man any longer it wasn't even….
Mind baulking on this last fact Nyssa sat back on her knees to give her heart a chance to stop hammering its way out of her chest. She made herself first study the body then touch it, a light touch with fingertips only but this was enough to confirm what her eyes told her.
It was a statue; the silly thing was made of stone.
But why had someone sculpted a contemporary figure in a library uniform with an authentic looking ID tag bearing the name of Hargon, wasn't there a real Hargon working here? Nyssa's prodigious photographic memory summoned the details – Selda Hargon aged 24, librarian third class, native of the planet Tremax, 34 cubits in heights, weight 97 aldels, missing finger from left hand due to a childhood accident, scar under right ear.
She gazed at the statue, good grief it was an exact copy – height, weight, age, injuries and species. Getting up she moved around to get a better look wondering who could have duplicated one of the lesser librarians, what was the point? Her memory told her there were no sculptors on the staff so who had done this?
"It's a real person," the voice made her jump she hadn't even heard the man approach yet he stood there just two meters distant, a bizarre figure in archaic clothing, no uniform, no weapon and no bracelet. A youngish man, slim, very bright blue eyes; eyes that saw everything instantly that knew secrets that knew her.
Yes there was a gleam of recognition in them, surprise and delight, pleasure and memories, a warm welcome but also hints of warning. You shouldn't be here, maybe I shouldn't either this is not a safe place. But how bad could it be in a data library where the last remaining books in existence were held. Seven floors and ninety six rooms, drones, force fields and access codes all to protect…..nine printed hardback books, the last remaining works of a dead Traken author called Tremas.
The man sighed, "That really is Hargon or what's left of him, he's been bio-calcified literally turned to stone."
The explanation was absurd, impossible it made no sense at all and defied all physical laws but Nyssa found herself accepting it believing it because she would have believed anything this man said – he was that kind of guy.
No her lips formed but in her mind she was thinking about possibilities, "How," she finally asked?
The blue eyes misted over they didn't know that but wished they did, "He's still warm so it can't have been long ago more recently than the others."
Others? Nyssa went cold all over; what was this man saying.
"How many," she asked?
"All of them," the man dipped his gaze to Hargon as he approached what he called a body and ran his fingers over it from head to chest then down one of the arms, within the clutch of the right hand he found something and with a pair of ancient looking tweezers he extracted it – a slip of paper upon which something had been hastily scrawled by a frightened man, a man perhaps in fear for his life.
Nyssa angled her head to get a better look but what she read made no sense it was silly, "No," she said, "That cannot be."
"Come on Nyssa of Traken," said the man shocking her with his knowledge – name and planet he knew both and spoke as though he'd been there, "Tremas taught you better than that and so, while we're on the subject, did I."
He straightened and moved closer to her, backing off automatically she raised her gun hand.
The gun wasn't in it, it had disappeared.
With a smile the man took something from his left jacket pocket – her gun, stolen so skilfully so easily she hadn't even felt it.
"This isn't the solution," he said like guns never were, "Some of the others here had guns just like it and they made no difference," his voice was so rich so sibilant and despite its aromatic softness so powerful that it held her attention totally and only one person had been able to do that.
"Doctor," she said it as both a question and a statement and his smile was confirmation, he was the Doctor a different Doctor a new persona.
"Eighth," came the gentle answer to her unspoken question, Nyssa blinked in amazement eight Doctors, she had travelled with Five and met Seven and they were totally different, even more different this new Eighth incarnation was handsome even dashing but despite that that sombre determination was there, the electric drive to uncover the truth and punish the guilty – yes it was all there in the mix, idealism, hope, anger and oddly humour to.
She didn't need to ask how he'd gotten in here or even why, as a man he was drawn inexorably to danger and mystery they coloured his entire existence in every form.
"It's still here Nyssa," he said, "The killer."
How could he be sure but he nodded to the body at his feet to its recent nature, "Hargon was trying to help me but we became separated, this note is his final communication to me."
It was offered and she took it reading it aloud with a quivering tone, "It has no face no voice yet it scowls it screams."
Glancing up puzzled she offered the note back, "This makes no sense."
Maybe it did to him, "Hargon was a logical man with a good analytical mind," he responded, "Despite his obvious terror and knowledge that he was about to die I think he was lucid at the end."
She shivered unable to keep the response within her any longer, at least she was no longer alone at least she had the Doctor by her side again and it looked like she was going to need him.
"What brings you here," he asked, "Apart from the collected works of Tremas that is?"
It's my job she almost responded but that was too trite too simple, she was here investigating mysteries because it was what she had learned to do and learned to love when she was his companion. It was in her blood she had a taste for danger for the bizarre and grotesque, maybe all ex and current companions were like that.
"Same as you," she told him and he smiled, the light lighting up more than his lean face it radiated out across the library to wash away doubt and fear – albeit briefly.
"Yes," he said understanding instantly the only man in the universe who could. "I should insist you leave should bundle you back into that transmat device right now," but he wouldn't he couldn't; she knew he was glad to see her and wanted her to stay as much as she wanted to be with him sharing yet another adventure facing yet another monstrosity. It was what he did so well and it was what she did now to.
"I've every right to be here," she said getting briefly officious, "But then so have you," she conceded. That's more like it said his features, I can go anywhere anytime, access all areas.
"But Doctor according to the system you and I are the only life forms here, nothing else is registering so how do we find this killer?"
He had dark curly hair now with ringlets spiralling down to just above his soft blue eyes, the face with slim, sculpted, classically handsome and full of questions, the dimpled chin added to the scholarly yet seductive look. The lips were fuller, softer; very kissable she thought.
Nyssa mentally pulled herself up short, what was she thinking viewing the Doctor as a lover? Then again she told herself she wasn't a child anymore but a grown woman, she had a career a good career and there had been lovers; albeit a few. Men found her inaccessible; she was constantly on the move, restless, eager to face new challenges – a bit Doctorish perhaps.
The thought made her smile and the time lord noted this, he didn't question it instead he offered a smile of his own. Patting her on the arm gently (her Doctor would have done that to the slim blond one), he went over to a smooth portion of wall touching it lightly with his fingers.
The library blueprint came up all the floors and rooms, two life forms flashed in scarlet relief. Doesn't help thought Nyssa, if there is an alien here it isn't being picked up by the system either because it's too exotic or can mask itself in some way.
From a pocket the Doctor took a small bag containing a few grams of black powder, it looked like something that had been burned.
"This is always under or near the calcified bodies," he whispered, "I don't think its part of them so it must belong to the killer or be part of the process he uses."
A sonic beam played over the powder then the bulbous end of the instrument was lightly touched to the diagram on the wall, the midsection of the screwdriver was deftly manipulated.
My Doctor lost his thought Nyssa, recalling that a Terrileptyl had destroyed it. The new screwdriver looked longer with a more complex stem and headed an upgrade no doubt a modification.
Suddenly a purple spot appeared on the library diagram vivid and shocking, got you said the Doctor's smiling face there's no hiding from me. Top floor thought Nyssa the reference section, no doubt this man would be going up there at a gallop but what did they do then, if guns were no use against the killer what did that leave?
"Doctor," she questioned, "Are all the library staff dead?"
His solemn returning glance was answer enough so she asked another question, "But why, what's the point why kill harmless clerks; I just don't see any logical motive?"
There would be one of course there always was no matter how strange or twisted, the alien would have a plan it was here for a reason.
"Why don't we ask him," said the Doctor with typical bravado.
"We need some kind of advantage first," practical as ever Nyssa was thinking like a scientist, weighing up options trying to compose a strategy.
In response the time lord handed his small bag of black powder to her, "Bio analyser and particle spectrograph in the side office," he smiled, "Portable units I brought from the TARDIS, I'm sure you remember how to use them."
She did, nothing from that time had been forgotten to the point where she'd tried in vain to develop her own versions, after 20 years she was still hunting down parts and theories.
Okay he was giving her something to do keeping her busy but what would he be doing at the same time; she worked it out.
"No Doctor," she said sternly.
"Just a short recce, a quick peep around."
It's too dangerous she let her expression say reinforcing this belief with hands on both hips; Nyssa had developed a seriously authorative side since her teens and she'd been pretty sombre even then.
Hands came to rest on the bunched shoulders and the slim face came within kissing distance (why was she obsessing about that?)
"Trust me," he pleaded like he really valued her opinion although she knew he'd go anyway whatever she said.
"I do trust you," she softened her tone a few notches, "I've always trusted you Doctor."
Thank you his hands squeezed gently and the blue eyes shone even brighter with gratitude.
"I've always trusted you to," he said and Nyssa felt a fierce swell of pride in her chest, it was like praise from this man counted far more than praise from anyone else; it really mattered.
"Why not help me with the tissue analysis," she knew as she said it what his answer would be, two approaches are better than one; and yes she knew he was right – damn him!
I will said his expression but I must do this first; we have to know as much about the alien as possible and sometimes first-hand information is the best sort.
"All right," she knew she sounded like a petulant child.
"Third door on the left," he directed, "Principal's office."
That was just typical and with a nod she set off to get started, but his melodious voice reached out, "Nyssa."
Pausing she glanced back at him stood there in his frock coat, striped trousers and scuffed shoes.
"It's fabulous to see you again."
Heat rushed to her cheeks and her eyes stung, you to she thought not willing to trust her voice.
Not trusting elevators (smaller on the inside than the outside, how weird is that?). The Doctor hurried up a narrow, winding stairwell to the top floor. Oddly he didn't get tired but he did slow down near the top his movements becoming wary and gaze taking in everything. Another statue lay across the top steps, one hand gripping the banisters the other thrust into the air fingers clawed.
Wincing the time lord paused only briefly to examine the find then skipped over it onto the landing, before him towered a door with the legend REFERENCE SECTION above it; the door was slightly ajar and he soon found out why – it had been wedged open with a book, a thick heavy tome entitled 'Myths and Legends of Traken' by Tremas. An image of the author was just inside the back cover, mesmeric and bearded and uncannily like someone else the Doctor knew only too well. Glad you're not here he thought, or we really would be in trouble.
Able to slip through the gap in the door he found himself in a smaller, darker room than those downstairs a chamber divided up by tall partitions, thick shelving and a matrix of upright stanchions. The ceiling was domed matching the outer roof of the library it was also transparent revealing a dark greenish blue sky populated by tiny silver orbs and the orange hemisphere of a neighbouring moon.
Captured by the beauty of the skyline for a moment the Doctor was initially unaware of a shadow to his rear left moving rapidly towards him, it was his keen hearing that picked up the lightest of foot falls and spinning around he took three rapid backward steps to a stanchion, a figure had emerged from reference aisle G still shrouded in shadow but tall, big and wide.
He could now also detect a curious hissing sound, it was low pitched and sibilant with a vaguely reptilian edge to it. The figure took another step forward this time into the light, but instead of waiting to see it the time lord concealed himself behind the stanchion; some impulse or memory warning him not to gaze upon the being.
The hiss deepened and with it came a low snarl of what might have been frustration, the Doctor let his gaze divert to the shadow cast by the creature on the wall. Tall, bulky, long arms and the hair…it was moving, writhing and twisting in thick clumps each clump possessing…
He shook his own head, impossible utterly insane and yet he couldn't deny what he was seeing. An ancient earth legend came to him, that of a creature with snakes growing out of its hair. But that was just a legend a story no such monster had ever really existed and certainly couldn't be here over a billion light years from earth. So why was he avoiding casting his gaze upon it, did he think that one look into the eyes of the (what was it called), would turn him to stone?
Better not risk it just in case so he scooted over to a panel and hid behind this, the alien turned and moved in his direction with slow measured strides, it wasn't rushing but then it didn't need to not with a calcifying stare. There couldn't a mythical Greek monster here thought the Doctor it doesn't make any sense.
Just to be on the same side he back tracked to the other end of the panel, squatted down and shoulder rolled to a terminal with a wide base. The hissing grew louder, angrier; a blow struck the panel smashing it aside with ease. No mean feat as it was thick and heavy. The Doctor crouched down taking out his screwdriver, quickly he adjusted its power and amplitude settings; it was time to try something.
Raising the silver head he activated it, the sharp buzz was followed by a clunk from the ceiling. The hissing petered out and a gasp came from the alien who took a faltering sideways step.
One moment later water gushed from the sprinkler system, spitting and jetting down over the entire room like a rain storm in the tropics. A scream filled the air one of fear and pain, objects were knocked over, feet stumbled and the alien clawed the air as it tried to escape the monsoon of chemically treated ice cold water.
Soaked himself the Doctor saw his chance and took it dashing for the exit, body hunched, eyes half closed and fists clenched. Keep going he told himself you can do it, you're closer and have surprise on your side plus the monster is in trouble it can't do anything.
Wrong!
A blow caught him on the left shoulder wild and glancing but still painful, it knocked him off course and instead of going through the door he bounced off the wall beside it stunning himself and almost wrenching his neck. A lesser man would have been rendered helpless but extraordinary time lord biology came to the Doctor's aid yet again, clearing his head in super quick time and making him contract into a tiny ball so that the second attack, a kind of swing karate chop, missed him totally – taking a big triangular chunk out of the wall.
The Doctor lunged, he rolled and going through a pair of flat grey webbed feet he snaked through the exit; drew up his knees and with one shoe kicked the door close mechanism.
The equipment would have stood out anywhere but especially in a bland room of wood panelling, dusty old note books and most amazing of all nibbed pens. How archaic it all was but then the chief librarian had always been a bit of an old fuddy duddy obsessed with times past and arcane periods of history across the galaxy.
The stuff from the TARDIS was silvery, futuristic and very compact. Going to a spherical pod Nyssa placed a few grains of powder onto its reception dish and keyed in the command for 'read' and 'compare'. Oh dear this brought back happy memories, well scary memories if truth be told – Castrovalva, Monarch's ship, Cybermen; working with the Doctor to find a solution to the impossible the horribly dangerous and in the case of poor Adric…no best not to go there.
Text filled a tiny screen, Nyssa squinted at it then took out her glasses, yes she had a pair of her own now, oval lenses with no frame they were varifocals which she used mostly for close up work, tiny digital readouts were beyond her these days.
The information she read was incredible it was astounding, and then the door crashed open and in stumbled a drowned rat or the closest thing to it, clothes soaking yet, hair plastered down over ears, forehead and shoulders. Had the Doctor been for a swim?
Nyssa's gasp of surprise was equalled by the time lord who stood there dripping, eyes wide in surprise. He was looking at her and at her…
"Spectacles," he said and broke into a wide smirk which she found herself matching after about one second of boiling irritation.
"What happened to you," she demanded then waved it aside the Doctor was just being the Doctor, if anyone could get drenched in a library it was him. "I've found something," she said urgently.
"Yes," he snuffled, "So have I," Going to a chair he flopped onto it palming moisture from his eyes. Very soon chair and floor were soaking wet and a small lake had formed on the cork floor. "Look at this office," he said, "Like something from Pickwick Papers."
"Jensar was an antiquarian," said Nyssa thinking of the file details she'd read about the chief librarian. "He loved old things," a bit like you Doctor she didn't add.
An odd look came into the blue eyes one she'd seen often before, a connection had been made dots had been joined he knows something he's found an important clue Nyssa ruminated but she knew better than to ask at this stage.
"Is that him," the Doctor was pointed to a portrait on the main desk of an imposing grey haired man all heavy jowls, large ears and a piercing gaze. Nyssa looked and nodded.
"Dead now," she said, "Like the others."
"But he isn't," replied the Doctor, "At least I've not seen his calcified remains; mind you they could be lying somewhere I haven't been but even so…"
She interrupted what seemed like a trivial detail, "The black powder is venom, and your analyser classifies it as Riolorthin, which I understand is used to regenerate bone tissue."
"Amongst other things," came the vague response. Still gazing at the picture of the chief librarian the Doctor rubbed his chin, his mind calculating at rapid speed. He said, "Rio is a calcifying agent of great potency it can restore brickwork even coastlines if used in sufficient quantities."
"Do you think the alien secrets it to kill his victims," she asked? Possibly said the pinching of his lips and going over to the picture of Jensar he picked it up.
"What else do you know about this man Nyssa; did he ever visit or study the myths of old earth?"
Odd question she didn't see the relevance, "It'll be on his file here," turning to a portion of wall she used her bracelet to activate the personnel files, Jensar was of course top of the list so she highlighted his details. It was mostly dull stuff about academic qualifications, jobs, and homes but there was one unusual detail.
The Doctor jabbed a finger, "Plexidar, 5th planet in the Omega Signy system."
Nyssa had never heard of it, "You've been there of course?"
But for once he shook his head, "I've heard of it, toxic nasty sort of place no good for time lords and an odd port of call for a librarian – rich source of Riolorthin, some have speculated that there are life forms there composed of the stuff."
It seemed unlikely to her but then she'd learned never to dismiss the improbable when travelling with this man, crazy things happened around the Doctor all the time.
She read the file entry Jensar had gone there no less than four times in the year prior to taking up his current job; four times were a lot of visits to a toxic nasty sort of place containing nothing of historical interest. Could Jensar have become contaminated in some way or possessed by an alien parasite; had he brought an illegal alien here against quarantine regulations?
"You don't think he's dead, do you," she quizzed, "You think he had something to do with what's happened here?"
The lean, thoughtful still very wet face gave nothing away so she tried another track.
"Is there an anti serum to Rio something that can counter its effects," she was ready to make it from scratch if she had to if he had the right elements? But he was holding up Jensar's image like it was some kind of shield and saying,
"What kind of man runs a library containing only 9 books by the same author, an obsessive would you say; bit odd possibly fixated bordering on sociopathic?"
Nyssa took in a deep breath she had studied psychology in her youth but didn't regard herself as an expert, but the Doctor was right you'd have to be pretty odd to want a job like this and Jensar had requested it according to his file, actively competed for it.
The Doctor shrugged, nodded at the portrait and turned, "Upstairs I was attacked by something that can't possibly be here, that never even existed on its planet as origin except as a legend but where it does exist is inside the mind of an obsessive, compulsive misogynist."
A toothy, boyish grin washed over her like the warmest sunrise.
"You think Jensar is the killer don't you, that he turned on his colleagues and is now hunting us?" Now she'd said it Nyssa still found it hard to swallow. Already heading for the stairs the Doctor looked back at her asking a question with his eyes and posture, she answered it by jogging up to him; yes she was along for the ride she would see this through to the end whatever that end was. He was the Doctor and she was once again his companion and it felt the most natural thing in the universe.
As they climbed she found her mind snowboarding through more questions, "What does this creature look like Doctor?"
"It appeared to me as Medusa, you remember her I'm sure."
Nyssa did the fabled Gorgon whose look turned men to stone, "How did you escape?"
"Sprinkler system," he said glibly.
She didn't quite make the connection so he explained, "Monsters are usually scared of two things fire and water, as I didn't want to set the library on fire I plumped for the safe option," then pausing he threw a question at her. "Tremas was an academic but he only wrote 9 books, what were they about?"
Nyssa was about to answer when the time lord broke into a big smile that told her he'd figured it out and that it should have been obvious, "The power of the mind," the words were like a caress, "Fertile territory for a man like Jensar."
She nodded, Tremas had been obsessed by the projection of thought, and images even personality. No doubt in his own way he was an obsessive personality to.
Reaching the reference section door they found it off its hinges torn clear away, the sprinklers had stopped but instead of being awash with water the floor and walls were coated with a fine grey dust. Nyssa realised that the water trick wouldn't work twice, assuming the creature was still in this section what did confront it with a mere portrait; a verbal argument – these were feeble options in her view.
"Why don't we just seal the library," she suggested thinking they could quarantine the whole place and trap Jensar inside whilst sending for a military team?
"You're assuming that would trap this creature, what if it doesn't if it has powers we don't know about? Anyway aren't you curious about what Jensar's become, maybe he can be saved even cured." Okay that's unlikely said his arched eyebrow but you never know; the Doctor just wasn't someone who cut and run he didn't know when to quit and basically loved a mystery. Liking one herself she still hung back, the alien might be waiting for them it might have something nasty up its sleeve. I'll go in first said the Doctor's look and this is just what he did tip toeing through the doorway, Nyssa hesitated only briefly before following every sense alert for danger her flesh prickling and face damp with fear.
You never got over fear never left it behind but you did learn to accommodate it to live with it, you had to if you travelled with this man and in the years since then she had rode her fear many times; faced down other monsters. It had made her strong even respected; now she was someone whom others looked up to.
Silence – utter and complete, the stillness was unnatural to the point of making her want to scream. All 9 books lay open on the floor in the dust, not scattered about willy nilly but positioned at specific pages to be studied.
"Still here," the Doctor hissed so softly she only just caught it. Creeping over to the books he squatted and speed read their page contents, less interested Nyssa looked around ready for anything.
Should she call Jensar's name try to reason with him, remind him of his professional and ethical obligations?
The weight of fingers on her neck cast these thoughts from her mind, the fingers were icy cold like marble in winter like a corpse in rigor. "Doctor?"
He was already tense, already rising to his full height but he didn't turn to look at the creature.
"Keep still Nyssa," he said. She wanted to run for cover and it took all the resolve she had not to do this to hold in the scream that was volcanoing up inside her belly.
"Jensar," said the time lord and the fingers touching Nyssa vibrated with surprise; they dug into her skin for a moment then splayed wide and withdrew. Holding up the portrait so it could be seen clearly the Doctor backed away from the books. "I've seen your file," he said, "I know what's going on."
Wishing she did Nyssa felt adrenalin roar through her bloodstream in preparation for anything she had to do?
"You didn't just archive these books you studied them zealously didn't you," the Doctor had injected admiration into his voice like he was trying to win this maniac over. "You learned how to project your consciousness into another life form effectively merging with it, creating a new personality you became," here the time lord paused; "Well why don't you tell us, fill in the blanks?"
Air was drawn into strong lungs and exhaled in a sonorous snarl, whatever was behind Nyssa only inches away it felt big, nasty and worse than a gorgon.
"You met something on Plexidar that intrigued so much you wanted to be like it," the Doctor continued, "But it couldn't leave its native world so you proposed a radical solution, a kind of union a bonding but it didn't totally work did it, either physically or psychologically it began to break down. The hunting instincts of the alien took over they became dominant, it needed to flex its muscles to strike out and you couldn't stop it."
Now the Doctor did turn, he turned and looked right at Nyssa. Trust me said his eyes I know what I'm doing, she had her doubts but remained static, still and poised as an eagle. Then the blue eyes of the time lord darted behind her to the thing the entity Jensar had become, "Oh very good," he said, "Interesting choice," was that praise.
"Nyssa why don't you turn very slowly and have a look I think you'll appreciate this."
Not wanting to Nyssa made herself rotate and as she did she took 3 rapid steps away from Jensar, only what she was seeing wasn't him it wasn't a man. Her mind reeled, youthful terrors ambushed her and she was taken back to her garden on Traken to this awful final days.
The cold unfeeling malign eyes of the Mulkur gazed back at her, another legendary monster assuming primarily for her benefit she felt sure. Breath catching in her throat she let out a short gasp a no then blinked tears.
"Oh yes," said the Doctor boldly, "Perfect in every detail to just as Tremas describes it in his last book, but still just a copy a facsimile what I'd really like to see what would really be helpful at this point," he held up the portrait, "Would be a glimpse of the creature from Plexidar, no more masks no more games let's have a look at you. Let Jensar go and show yourself, I bet you've adapted your DNA to this environment by now; stealing protein chains from your host so come on – put up or shut up."
The Mulkur blurred it rippled, light spiked from its edges then deep from within the core, the vast shape dissolved and reformed thinning and reducing extruding into a new and totally different outline that of an upright, silvery green serpent resting on a coiled tail, a serpent with a vast triangular head. There at its tail was Jensar pale and aged, a shadow of his former self drained and used barely alive, only just breathing.
The Plex was strong and vital full of energy, venom dripped from its huge fangs and malice glowed from the slitted eyes.
"A reptile," said Nyssa in surprise but the man beside her was unshockable.
"Thank you," he said to the Plex as though it had paid him a compliment. Personally Nyssa would have preferred the Mulkur; this new appearance was much more dynamic and frightening she'd never liked snakes.
What did they do now because she didn't think a mere portrait would have much effect on the alien now it was free of Jensar? Very carefully the Doctor picked up one of the books, the last one Tremas had ever written in fact he'd died before it could be published or rather he'd become The Master.
"Even this form isn't totally genuine," said the time lord, "Maybe you don't have a physical body as we understand it and this is the closest approximation because Tremas writes about a great serpent."
Nyssa chided herself of course it was one of the most ancient legends of her people, the snake at the end of the world – judgement and retribution. But the snake had been defeated by a Traken hero, how though what was the story?
Gazing directly upwards the Doctor smiled; instead of a half moon there was now a full moon and its eerie, ethereal light was being largely blocked by the transparent dome. "Tremas also talks of the defeat of the serpent," said the Doctor meaningfully, "On the last page of his last book, is that why Jensar left it for me to find was he in some way trying to atone for what he'd done and free himself from you?"
With an angry hiss the Plex looked down at Jensar and Nyssa knew what was coming, as the evil jaws shot towards the chief librarian moist with poison she picked up another book and threw it. Her aim was true hitting the triangular head a glancing blow the heavy book knocked it off course and the bite failed to reach its target. Swinging back in her direction with lethal speed the reptilian jaws parted spitting and dribbling toxin in oily yellow gobs on the floor. The next bite would be for her, Jensar could wait the Plex intended to vent its wrath on younger meat. Come on then thought Nyssa knees bent and body hunched, she picked up another book to use as a shield. When the head shot for her she used the book as a bat slamming home a hefty blow to the side of the monster's skull just over the right eye.
The impact jarred her arms to the shoulder joints and threw her sideways off balance so that she crashed to the floor beside Jensar, who looked at her piteously too weak to move or even speak. Still holding her book Nyssa raised it defensively knowing another bite was coming and that this time she may not be able to stop it; that this time her life would end in agony with poison scorching through her arteries.
That was when the Doctor made his move a gamble really a reckless opportunistic stab in the dark; but he was so good at them that when she saw him leap into the air her heart leapt to. Jumping as high as his legs would carry him, higher than she would have believed he shot his arms upwards and threw the heavy book, threw it with all his strength, hurled it with remarkable accuracy at the domed roof.
The Plex turned swinging away from Nyssa, coiling its long form sideways and upwards towards the time lord to bite him instead; to sink its fangs into his exposed flank.
But book hit dome first with a resounding crack, the ceiling frosted it splintered, cracking to form an expanding web of destruction and fault lines. Instead of delivering its bite the Plex reared back it retreated, contracted and sought cover but there was no cover not from the burning rays of the moon.
Of course; Nyssa understood now the great snake had been defeated by moonlight and this snake (having adopted that character and reality) was just as vulnerable. Landing back on his feet the Doctor skewed left and dove towards her rolling over and over until he was by her side, he took her book.
Following his motion with hate-filled eyes the Plex went for another bite a final killing attack. The Doctor contracted himself into a ball, drew in his legs, steeling his arms and swung the book in an arch. His timing as ever was impeccable he caught the Plex full in the face with a stunning shot, but instead of knocking it out he merely knocked it off course and the book was smashed from his fingers.
The poison pregnant fangs missed him and came for Nyssa, there was no way they could avoid her and she knew she was going to die that this was the end.
Then cloud slithered away from the moon exposing it fully and its radiance shone down to bathe her to bathe the Plex, it glowed above her brighter and brighter like a laser torpedo about to self destruct. She saw it became a silhouette, a glossy outline like an X-ray photo on a light box and then just as it was about to kill her it vanished with a scream, whited out, erased.
She sagged not dead after all; this wasn't the end of her life and rolling sideways she hugged the Doctor getting hugged right back. She wanted to say something but the words wouldn't come; where they needed anyway?
Releasing to get to Jensar he checked vital signs – breathing shallow, pulse thready, skin greyish white – not good signs.
Hospital, Nyssa thought then another word jumped into her head at the same time the Doctor said it.
TARDIS.
She helped him gather up the sick man, the police box wasn't far away which was lucky.
"You'll like the new console room," the Doctor chatted, "Very dark, brooding and baroque," he said.
Back in the TARDIS was all Nyssa was thinking after all this time, would it still have the same magnetic allure would she be able to leave it and return to her normal life.
Should she?