THE ETERNAL GAME

It had been a Land of Fiction, but now there was nothing. Well, that wasn't strictly true – there were vestiges of residual energy, but they were long spent, and of no significance.

A robed figure picked his feet through the devastation, his plans foiled once more. "Curse you, Doctor. Once again you have bested me." The figure halted at the slips of paper that made up a face. "Diverting, if nothing else – I wonder…" A thought occurred, coalescing into an outlandish idea. "Well, I don't see why it shouldn't work."

The TARDIS continued its journey through the vortex. Inside, the Doctor, Jamie and Zoë stood watching the central column's rise and fall. Everything seemed fine, but after recent adventures, Jamie had his doubts. "Are you sure the TARDIS is working again?"

The Doctor took umbrage at the Scot's question. "Well, of course it's working, Jamie. I'll admit the TARDIS has been through a lot recently, what with breaking up in the Land of Fiction, and needing repairs afterward, but it's fine now."

The Doctor busied himself with the controls, Jamie and Zoë leaving him to it. "I never realised until now how protective he is of the TARDIS," Zoë noted.

"Aye, like a mother with its child," Jamie agreed. "Still, if he's happy, then I suppose we should be too." Yawning, he settled down into an ornate chair for a nap. "Wake me if something happens."

Zoë shook her head, wondering how Jamie could fall asleep within seconds, and yet be ready for action when the need arose. She turned back to the Doctor. "Anything I can help with?"

He glanced up, a reply forming on his lips, along the lines of 'I can manage'. Then he saw Jamie fast asleep, and relented. "Well, if I'm honest," he whispered confidentially, "there are one or two teething problems that I didn't want to bother Jamie about."

"I thought as much," Zoë scolded him good-naturedly.

"Oh, it's nothing serious," the Doctor assured her. "But if you could check the power readings for me, then perhaps we can…" His reply was cut short by a shimmering vibration emanating from the hexagonal control unit.

Jamie was alerted to the sound, and was immediately awake. "I might have known," he muttered. "The TARDIS is playing up again."

"No, it isn't, Jamie." The Doctor's brow was furrowed in concentration. "No, the TARDIS is being controlled somehow – from outside." The vibration was becoming more pronounced, as the time travellers fought to maintain their balance.

Zoë was shocked. "You mean you have no control over the ship?"

"Rather less than usual, shall we say," the Doctor replied. "Now, hold tight. I think we're about to land." The two youngsters held onto the console, expecting the worst. Instead, the vibration abruptly dissipated to nothing, as the central column fell still. The Doctor stepped gingerly back from the console, as the main doors opened before them. He beckoned to his two friends. "I think we're expected."

The three of them stepped out onto an area that was completely white. "Och, no," Jamie groaned. "I thought we were out of that place."

But Zoë was less certain. "This isn't the white void we were in before, Jamie," she told him. "If you look closely you can the corners, just where the walls meet the floor."

"Oh, very good," came a voice from nowhere. "I must say, Doctor, she's very clever. At any other time I would consider her as a worthy opponent."

"Well, don't hide in the non-shadows," the Doctor barked. "Show yourself."

"Oh, if you insist." The air in front of them shimmered, and before them stood a man dressed in flowing robes, the design of which resembled that worn by a Chinese mandarin. "Really, Doctor, your regeneration hasn't improved your temper. I'd have thought you would have welcomed the chance of a rematch."

Zoë looked from the stranger to the Doctor. It was clear that there was some history between the two of them. "Who is he?"

"That, my dear Zoë, is the Celestial Toymaker," the Doctor replied. "He delights in playing all manner of macabre games, and anyone who pits their will against him ends up being one of his playthings for all eternity."

"Succinct as always, Doctor." The Toymaker gave a respectful bow. "And how kind of you to visit me. I have so few visitors these days."

"And with good reason," said the Doctor. "I imagine your reputation precedes you, Toymaker – and you know full well that it was your influence that brought us here to your domain."

"Perhaps," he conceded. "However, I had hoped that my brief foray into fiction might have amused you."

"I don't what you… wait a moment. You created the Land of Fiction?" The Doctor was horrified. "And the three of us almost became a part of it!"

"And yet you won through once more, Doctor. Which is partly why I brought you here."

"Oh no," the Doctor insisted. "I will not submit to your games again. With the help of Steven and Dodo, I beat you fair and square last time. You have no hold over me."

"Except that I'm not used to being on the losing side." The Toymaker's voice now had an edge of steel to it. "And you won't be playing against me, Doctor. No, this time I have a different opponent in mind, in a fair contest - against the boy."

"Eh?" Jamie stared, realising the Toymaker was referring to him. "What's he mean, Doctor?"

"I don't know." The Doctor stepped forward, looking defiantly into the face of the Toymaker. "What is it you want with Jamie?"

"Just a simple contest," he replied, smiling. "In single combat against a champion of my choice."

The Doctor nodded grimly. "To the death, I take it?"

"Naturally. If the boy wins, then you are all free to go. If my champion wins, then he gains his freedom and you will remain here. Forever."

The Doctor knew that nothing was straightforward where the Toymaker was concerned, but there seemed no other option. "Might we at least see this Champion of yours before the contest?"

"But of course." The Toymaker stepped aside. "Advance, my Champion. Come and meet your challenger." The wall before them parted in two, to reveal a shadowy figure.

As the Champion stepped forward into the light, the Doctor couldn't shake off a growing feeling of familiarity. He knew this person. Someone from the Land of Fiction, perhaps? Then he saw him clearly for the first time. "Oh no! It can't be possible!"

"In my realm, Doctor, all things are possible." And now Jamie and Zoë shared the Doctor's sense of horror, recognising the man before them. Standing before them was Jamie – the other Jamie with a different face that had briefly existed in the Land of Fiction. This was the Toymaker's Champion.

"Both so alike," the Toymaker commented, "and yet so different. It should be a fascinating contest."

"But I don't understand," Zoë said to the other Jamie. "How can you exist at the same time as Jamie?"

"It was something the Toymaker did," he replied. "When the Land of Fiction broke up, there was still something of this me that survived. The Toymaker took that something and brought me back to life. I still don't properly understand it, but I'm here."

"But you can't be," Zoë insisted. "It's impossible for two aspects of the same person to exist in the same space. The Blinovitch Limitation Effect, according to the Doctor. Taken to its logical conclusion, there can only be one of you."

"Aye." Jamie turned at this remark, and faced his other self. "And I reckon that's why this Toymaker made you his champion. Because he wants the Doctor."

"No, you're wrong," said the other Jamie. "Aye, the Toymaker knows the Doctor of old, but he promised me my freedom."

"And freedom you shall have," the Toymaker stated. "Let the contest begin." He clapped his hands, and a huge amphitheatre of stone replaced the featureless white, with a duelling arena at its heart. The two Highlanders now stood in the centre of the arena, while the Doctor and Zoë were joined by the Toymaker; the three of them seated on majestic thrones several rows back.

The Doctor rounded on him. "What is it you want with me? And why involve Jamie in your plans?"

"Because it pleases me to do so," the Toymaker replied. "And it gives me something to bargain with." The Doctor waited for him to continue. "I could stop the contest before it has even begun, but in return for their lives, you must agree to serve me, Doctor. Become one of my playthings."

So that was the Toymaker's plan. To have the Doctor let one of the Jamie's die, or save them both by sacrificing his own existence. The Doctor agonised over his answer. "You can't expect me to choose, not just like that!"

"But choose you must, Doctor. And quickly. As you can see, both combatants are now armed with swords. It is only matter of time before the first blow is struck."

Zoë tugged at the Doctor's sleeve. "You can't let them fight each other. Not to the death."

"But I can't surrender to the Toymaker," he protested. "Oh my giddy aunt – what do I do?" He watched in horrified fascination as the contest began, with weapons drawn.

"I don't want to do this," said the other Jamie. "But I'll kill you if I have to."

"Then you'll have to do just that," Jamie informed him. "That is, if it's what you really want." He had no intention of being responsible for ending his other self's life, but for the moment could see no other way out of this. He parried the initial lunge, leaping out of harm's way as the other Jamie shot past him. Not wanting to gain an unfair advantage, Jamie waited for his opponent to regain his balance before resuming the contest. "It doesn't have to be like this," he insisted. "It's stupid, the two of us against each other."

"But that's the way it has to be," his other self replied. "If I defeat you, then I'll be free to leave this place, and maybe hook up with the Doctor."

"Aye, but you'd have to kill me first. And I don't think the Doctor would be too pleased if that happened." Jamie parried another strike. "Think about it. You said the Toymaker knows the Doctor of old. Well, as the Doctor's still around, he must have beaten him somehow when they last met. But now the Toymaker's got you as his pawn."

"You're twisting everything." The other Jamie swung his sword down in an arc, but the blow was deflected by Jamie's blade. "Is it so wrong for me to want to live?"

"That depends on the price," said Jamie, as the two of them circled each other. "The Toymaker must really have it in for the Doctor. He wants revenge, and he's using you to get it, promising all sorts, I'll bet."

So engrossed was Jamie in trying to make his other self listen to him, that he was unprepared for his unexpected advance, causing the Scot to back trip and fall to the ground, the impact jarring the sword from his hand. Before he could recover he felt the touch of steel against his throat, and he looked into the eyes of his other self, as Jamie prepared himself for death.

The Toymaker's eyes gleamed. "The contest is all but over. But you can still save your young friend, Doctor. They can both go free, Jamie and Zoë, if you take their place."

"I think I'll decline the offer," the Doctor replied. "Besides, the contest isn't over yet. Your Champion has still to deliver the final blow."

The Toymaker saw the hesitation in his Champion. "Why do you delay? Your freedom awaits you. All it will take is one final thrust of the sword."

The other Jamie looked to the Toymaker and then down to his fallen self. "Freedom, you call it? Well, the price is too high for me." He held out a hand to Jamie, and pulled the highlander to his feet. Then he let his sword fall to the ground. The two of them were enemies no more.

The Toymaker rose from his throne, outraged. "You must abide by the rules of the contest. There has to be a winner."

"There is a winner, Toymaker," the Doctor declared. "But not in the way you intended. Reason has triumphed, with life winning over death. And this time, no one has had to die." He jumped down from his throne, with Zoë following him, to join the two Jamie's in the centre of the arena. "Good sense prevails every time."

The Doctor's elation was tempered as the sky overhead darkened, the elements matching the Toymaker's mood. "You think I will let you leave my domain so easily? The contest may be void, but in lieu of an outright winner, you cannot escape."

"Oh, pish." The air shimmered as a newcomer appeared before the Toymaker. "Why don't you give it up, old man. You've been hoist by your own petard yet again."

"What are you doing here?" the Toymaker hissed, completely thrown by the arrival of someone he clearly recognised. "You have no right to interfere in my world."

The newcomer laughed. "You talk about rights, when all you do is abuse the privilege. Oh, I'll admit I've been guilty of a few misdemeanours myself, but they pale into nothing against your antics."

"Doctor," Zoë whispered. "Who's that?"

"I haven't the faintest idea," he confessed. "But he seems to be on our side, whoever he is."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, Môn Docteur," the man smiled, turning back to the Toymaker. "You've become more of an embarrassment than me, which is saying something. And do you have to wear that mandarin costume? It's so passé."

"I could say the same about that Federation uniform you wear," the Toymaker grumbled, looking down at the black and red ensemble. "It's hardly distinctive."

"It has a sense of style," said the man. "Anyway, stop changing the subject. Your rivalry against the Doctor and his friends – well, that hasn't gone unnoticed by the Collective. It's time to nip it in the bud."

"And they sent you to reprimand me?" The Toymaker wagged a finger. "You're hardly a modicum of restraint yourself."

The stranger bristled at this. "I may play with people's lives, but not to the extremes that you abide by. I only tweak the occasional ego, or act as a mysterious guiding force. You, on the other hand, are too malicious to be ignored, which is why the Collective felt it necessary for me to intervene. This vendetta between you and the Doctor must end here."

The Toymaker clearly wasn't used to being dictated to in this way, if at all. "You cannot impose this on me. This is my domain, and I make the rules."

"Except that this time you've overstepped the mark," the man informed him. "The Collective take a rather dim view of your exploits, and I have to say that I'm in agreement with them. The choice is yours – you either let the Doctor go on his way, or you will be stripped of your powers, for as long as the Collective deem fit."

This ultimatum shocked the Toymaker. "They cannot do this!"

"Oh, believe me they can," the newcomer assured him. "They did it to me once – not a pleasant experience, being mortal."

The Toymaker was forced to relent. "Very well," he finally agreed. "Doctor, you can leave."

"Just like that?" The Doctor had been following this exchange with interest, but was still wary at this about-turn.

"You will not be prevented, Doctor," the newcomer promised. "I'll see to that."

"Very kind, I'm sure." The Doctor raised a tentative hand. "There is just one small problem."

"Ah yes," the man noted. "The two Highlanders. Just a simple matter of bringing together the two essences." He addressed the two Jamie's. "All I have to do is to combine your two aspects so that you become one person again."

"Oh aye?" said a doubtful Jamie. "Well, that's easy for you to say."

"And what happens to me?" asked the other Jamie. "Will I die?"

"Nothing so mundane," the man replied. "Your experiences will live on inside your original self, becoming a part of the whole. I can assure you, nothing will be forgotten."

The two Jamie's and Zoë looked to the Doctor for reassurance. "It'll be all right," he promised them.

The man snapped his fingers, and the two Jamie's instantly merged into one, his features retaining that of the original. Zoë ran up to him, the relief clear on her face. "Jamie, you're back. You're whole again."

"How do you feel?" the Doctor asked him.

"Fine," he replied, his hands checking his face. "I'm me, but it's like I've got the memories of the other me."

"They are a part of you," the stranger said, "and will remain so forever. Well, my work is done, so I bid you all adieu." He promptly vanished, only to reappear again, a stern look on his face. "Don't forget – Toymaker – the Doctor and his friends are free to leave. I trust you won't renege on that promise."

"I have given my word," he said, through gritted teeth.

The man smiled. "Good. In that case, farewell." And he vanished again.

Jamie and Zoë were already inside the TARDIS, impatient to leave. But at a request from the Toymaker, the Doctor had hung back. "I must say," he said, "I'm surprised you still kept that Trilogic Game, especially after our last encounter."

"One must carry the scars of battle, as I'm sure you do." There was no mocking tone in the Toymaker's voice. It was a simple statement of fact for them both. "Surely it must become tiresome for you, Doctor – travelling from one planet to the other, righting wrongs and defeating the monsters."

The Doctor was immediately suspicious of the Toymaker's behaviour. "Is this some final twist on your part? I'm sure your… associate wouldn't be too happy if that were the case."

The Toymaker waved away the Doctor's concerns. "I simply wish to speak to you as an equal. Please, indulge my curiosity."

"Very well." The Doctor was still cautious. "So, you infer that my life is dull. But it is very far from being that. I left my own world to escape the boredom you refer to. And what I do is important. There is evil in the universe that must be fought, and the oppressed must be helped to see a better future. As for you, Toymaker, yours is the tiresome life, because it is a life that never changes. You play the same games, knowing that you are bound to win."

"But there is a certainty in my life," the Toymaker countered. "I do not have to fear the unknown, or concern myself with lesser species. My games are all that I need."

"Except that you interact with those same lesser species in order to play your games," the Doctor pointed out. "And for me it is that fear of the unknown which gives me a reason to exist. For we must all confront our fears and overcome them – even you, Toymaker."

He paused before answering. "But I have no fears to overcome."

"Not even the fear of loneliness?" The Doctor let that question sink in before continuing. "The greatest fear of anyone is to be alone. And if you didn't have your toys, or people to play your games, then you would be very much alone."

The Toymaker met the Doctor's gaze, and did not flinch. "Do you presume to judge me, Doctor?"

"I simply speak as I find." The Doctor moved toward the TARDIS. "We both have our own paths to follow. I trust that ours will not cross again."

"As you know yourself, Doctor, nothing is ever certain. But you will always be my most challenging opponent." The Doctor chose not to respond to the Toymaker's goading. As far as he was concerned, this conversation was at an end. The TARDIS door closed behind him, with the sound of dematerialisation filling the air as the blue Police Box shell faded away to nothing.

The Toymaker stared at the empty space for an eternity. Or perhaps it was a few seconds. The concept of linear time meant nothing to him. There was only the game. And there were still many more to be played.