This story features The Third Doctor, Dr Liz Shaw, Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, Jo Grant, and other UNIT-era characters. It takes place between "Colony in Space" and "The Dæmons." This story was originally published in the Tulsa Doctor Who Viewing Society Timelord Invasion newsletters, issues three through six, June to September, 1999. I received no monetary compensation for my contributions.
ASA/PR Registration № R692-13173, 24 Feb 2008
Disclaimers: Doctor Who was created by Sydney Newman and is copyrighted by the British Broadcasting Corporation, BBC Wales, BBC Worldwide, BBC Radio, BBCi, BBC Audiobooks, Argo Records, Big Finish Productions, FictionLab, Cosgrove Hall Films, Universal Pictures, and the Fox Broadcasting Company. Derrick Sherwin created the UNIT concept, 'Liz Shaw,' and 'John Benton.' Mervyn Haisman and Henry Lincoln created 'Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart.' Barry Letts created 'The Master,' 'Mike Yates,' and 'Jo Grant.' Pip and Jane Baker created 'The Rani.' This story is for entertainment purposes only, and I am not being compensated monetarily. Any copyright infringement on my part is purely unintentional.
THE HYBRID HORROR
by
Scott Montgomery
Rain pelts the Whatley House windowsill, as a fierce storm rages outside. The climate inside erupts even more vehemently, as The Master impassions the crowd before him.
"Are we going to let students inflicted with PAIN attend the same schools as us?" he demands.
The assembly of adolescent teens bray an immediate "No!"
"Should we have to share public buildings and toilets with PAIN patients?" The Master charges.
"No!"
"Who are we?" The Master grills.
"SAPP!"
"What do we stand for?"
"Students Against PAIN Patients," the crowd drones.
"What should we do?"
"Kill the PAIN patients!"
"What will we do?" The Master reinforces.
"Kill the PAIN patients!"
Satisfied that he has successfully agitated and brainwashed an unwilling band of followers, The Master leans down on the podium and laughs quietly to himself. He hardly notices the camouflaged figure watching covertly outside.
Drenched with rain, Sergeant John Benton retrieves his radio. "Trap One to Greyhound," he reports, "I think we have trouble."
Private Derrick squints his eyes at the rain pounding against the car park gate. He turns to see Private Newcomber wading in the two inches of water.
"If it keeps pouring down like this," Derrick asserts, "the first floor of H.Q.'s going to flood."
"We should get sand bags in here," Newcomber suggests. Derrick agrees.
The Brigadier's outer office is replete with activity. Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart looms over Corporal Carol Bell, as he shouts into the telephone. In his flowing black cloak, The Doctor sits quietly, making final adjustments to a handheld implement. The Doctor's perky young assistant, Jo Grant, stands with UNIT's former scientific advisor, Dr Elizabeth Shaw, by a map on the wall.
Jo is keenly aware of The Doctor's fondness for Liz Shaw, his previous assistant. Unlike her, Liz is a real scientist whose knowledge sometimes parallels his. He'd been sorry to see her go, and even sorrier to see some impudent young girl who hadn't passed her chemistry A-levels replace her. Liz was a hard act to follow.
"It's no good," Jo explains to Liz, "Sergeant Benton said the A-forty is flooded."
"We'll have to take the A-forty-twenty to the A-four-0-six," Liz suggests.
"Yes, General Scobie," the Brigadier shouts into the telephone, "There's a group of frantic rioters near the Regent's Park area, and their leader has been positively identified as The Master."
Both Liz and Jo smile, as Captain Mike Yates enters the room.
"Doctor Shaw will be joining us because we're concerned the rioters may be heading for her clinic," the Brigadier explains to the telephone handset.
Having completed his work, The Doctor pulls Liz aside and shoves the futuristic device into her hand. "Hang on to this," he tells her.
"What is it?" she asks, somewhat preoccupied.
"A neutraliser, Liz," The Doctor clarifies, "You should only use it if you've been separated from the Brigadier."
With her attention now fully focused on The Doctor, Liz asks the purpose of the neutraliser. The Doctor explains that it paralyses the spinal cord and that it should only be used in an emergency.
"I understand," Liz insists, "I won't hesitate to use it to protect my patients if necessary."
The Brigadier hangs up the phone and summons Yates over to him. "Captain, you and I will be accompanied by Miss Shaw," the Brigadier informs Mike Yates. He then turns his attention to Carol Bell. "Corporal, I'm leaving it to you to keep the General posted. We may also have to inform Geneva."
"Are we ready to go yet?" The Doctor asks, interrupting the Brigadier's terse mission briefing.
Privates Derrick and Newcomber open the gates. Emerging from the car park are The Doctor's familiar yellow Italian roadster and three standard army jeeps bearing UNIT insignia. The Doctor travels alone in Bessie, while the lead jeep appears to house the Brigadier, Mike, and Liz.
In front of the Euston Square Clinic, the pubescent rioters of SAPP throw rocks and sticks at the building and shout angry words of prejudice. At the centre of the scuffle, The Master stands confidently. A handful of beat constables attempt to hold the young crowd back.
The UNIT team arrives in a timely manner. Spotting them, The Master covertly sneaks around the corner of the clinic. The Doctor is the first out of his car. It is all Mike can do to keep Liz back. The Brigadier addresses the constable in charge.
"Constable? Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart of UNIT Command," he pronounces, "we're taking over."
Mike bustles Liz over to the Brigadier.
"This is Doctor Shaw, the director of the clinic," the Brigadier continues, "She needs to be safely escorted inside."
The police constable agrees to take care of it straight away.
Around the corner, The Master speaks into his wrist communicator. "Continue to uplink the psionic field from my TARDIS."
Joining Liz and the Brigadier, The Doctor points out how unnatural the chanting of the rioters sounds. In actuality, Liz couldn't care less. Her main concern is the safety of her patients.
"Captain Yates," the Brigadier bellows, "I'm going to have squad one fire warning shots while squad two apprehends The Master."
Mike's eyes widen in anticipation.
"I want you to lead squad two, Yates," the Brigadier adds.
"Yes, Sir!" the Captain replies.
The Doctor grabs Mike by the arm. "I don't care what you do with The Master," he advises, "but try not to use unnecessary force on his young followers. I think he has control of their minds."
Liz allows herself to be escorted inside by the police officers, her hand resting on the neutraliser in her pocket the entire time. When a black government limousine pulls up behind the army jeeps, the Brigadier dashes over to it with four of his men. The UNIT troops' poised sub-machine guns deter any of the teenagers from attacking the middle-aged government man stepping out of the car.
Within the next few minutes, the Brigadier's troops succeed in apprehending a handful of rioters, and Captain Yates's platoon trail The Master back to Whatley House on Great Portland Street.
Derrick and Newcomber finish putting the final sand bag into place at UNIT H.Q.'s front gate. Newcomber rubs his arms for warmth, as Derrick retrieves a cigarette from his jacket pocket.
"I'm ready for a smoke, mate," Derrick tells Newcomber, whose eyes appear to be focused beyond him.
"Oi, who's that?" Newcomber wonders out loud.
Derrick turns to see a elderly, humped bag lady approaching the gates.
"She probably wants a fag," Newcomber suspects.
Derrick takes one final drag before throwing the cigarette into the water surrounding his feet. "Well, she ain't getting one."
The bag lady smiles coyly as she approaches the gate. Derrick and Newcomber turn away from her. Just the reaction she was looking for, the old lady thinks to herself. Before the two Privates have time to acknowledge what is happening to them, they disintegrate in a burst of phaser fire.
The vexing hum of the ship vibrates through his body, as Himelo leans against the illuminated roundel. His two companions sit elsewhere in the room, just as baffled by all the incubators and lab equipment as he is. At least they are fed and paid better here than they ever were by the Daleks. Himelo motions for his confederates to stand when the beautiful android Y-K enters the room.
"What are your orders, Mistress?" Himelo inquires.
"We hold our position for now, Himelo." Y-K replies indifferently.
Inside The Doctor's laboratory, Jo Grant pounds away on a typewriter at her makeshift desk near the TARDIS. She may as well spend the idle time helping The Doctor catch up on all of the reports that the Brigadier seems to require far too often. She has written about Nestenes, Autons, Silurians, alien Ambassadors, Primords, Grolds, Semquesses, Axons, and far too many aberrations to remember. Despite all of her time as The Doctor's assistant, Jo still doesn't know the difference between a subspace cartographic subprocessor and a Bunsen burner. She realises, though, that The Doctor responds well to her enthusiasm and willingness to help.
Looking up from her daydreaming, Jo is startled by a destitute old lady entering the lab.
"Excuse me?" the bag lady greets.
Jo is disoriented, but she is certain this woman should not be here. "Who are you? May I see your pass?"
"I had ta get out of the rain, didn't I," the bag lady grumbles, "It's pour'in down und I'm soaked."
"How did you get past the guards?" Jo demands.
"They let me in."
"Oh, I'm afraid I'll have to verify that." Jo quickly picks up the internal telephone. The line is dead. The storm must have damaged a phone line somewhere, Jo rationalises. "Why did you come into this building?" Jo quizzes.
"Well, I thought it was a shelter now, didn't I," the bag lady states indignantly.
"With armed guards?" Jo insists.
"Look, all the other shelters are turnin' people away," the woman contends, "There ain't no place for us homeless in the rain."
"Of course," Jo replies. She allows herself to relax a little. She will, of course, need to inform Sergeant Benton, she thinks.
"I can see now this is a military instillation," the bag lady affirms, "Oh, don't worry. I won't tell no one about it. Anyway, who'd listen?"
This woman has got to clear the lab area, Jo deliberates. "Would you care to lie down? There's a guest lounge three doors down."
"Oh maybe in a minute, love. I'm enjoying talkin' to you." The homeless lady looks around the room. "Laboratory, isn't it?"
Jo ignores the question.
"I thought so, what with all this fancy equipment," the bag lady murmurs, "What does it all do?"
"I'm afraid most of it's beyond my comprehension," Jo describes, "But The Doctor. . ." She cuts herself off, hoping she hads't said too much now.
The bag lady smiles. "Tell me about The Doctor."
End of Part One
Captain Yates and his platoon lurk in the shadows of the Whatley House awning. Every thirty seconds or so, he discreetly peers inside the first-story window. Conspicuously, a bright yellow Italian roadster and an army jeep pull up to the curb. The Brigadier and The Doctor approach the Captain. Great, Yates thinks, so much for anonymity and cautious surveillance.
The Brigadier is the first to speak. "What is the situation, Captain?"
"There are no entrances into the house except for the main doors and windows," Yates reports, "which all seem to be protected by some sort of force field."
The Doctor decides to take a look for himself.
Through the window, The Doctor can see The Master sermonising to a group of minors around him. An overhead banner reads 'SAPP.' The Brigadier and Yates crowd around.
"I can't hear what he's saying," the Brigadier snaps.
"I don't like it," The Doctor says, turning away from the window. "Did you see those people in there? They looked like grammar school students."
"Not exactly the type of crowd The Master usually runs around with," Yates points out.
While the Brigadier and Yates ponder The Master's current collaborators, The Doctor retrieves a hand-held device from Bessie. Before the Brigadier can ask his scientific advisor what he is doing, The Doctor places the device on the side of the house.
"It's a listening device, Brigadier," The Doctor explains.
"And with that we'll be able to hear them?" the Brigadier inquires.
"No, then we'll have to listen to the tape on the machine back at UNIT H.Q."
The Brigadier is not impressed. "Not a very useful device, Doctor." Further irritated by The Doctor's refusal to respond to his indignity, the Brigadier presses on. "I fail to see how taking no action is at all positive."
The Doctor shifts his attention. "Brigadier, I want you to check on the license plates of all of the cars parked out here," The Doctor dictates, "Some of them could possibly belong to the parents of the students inside. I want to know who the cars are registered to and the background of the owners."
"That's a tall order, Doctor," the Brigadier counters.
The Doctor responds with a smile. "Yes, but I know you can handle it, old chap."
"Yes, of course I can," the Brigadier boasts. "Yates, get on it straight away."
"Yes, Sir," Yates dryly acknowledges.
Liz finds herself leading Sir Charles Langham, of the Health Ministry, on a guided tour of her clinic. Having found it difficult to explain the presence of armed UNIT guards and adolescent rioters outside, Liz tries her best to act casually. The broken windows have been hastily covered with plastic tarps.
"So you call the virus PAIN, Doctor Shaw?" queries Sir Charles.
"Photosensitivity Auto Immune Neuritis," Liz replies, now trying to ignore Sir Charles's suggestive glances.
"Do the victims experience any common symptoms?" Sir Charles asks, as he tries desperately to keep his eyes focused on her face. It is too hard to believe that such a beautiful young woman can hold doctorates in medicine and physics. He wonders what lies beneath that white frock.
"Standard viral manifestations of varying degrees," Liz explains, "Sore throats, swollen glands, rashes, headaches, stiff necks, aching muscles, joint pain, nausea, vomiting, dehydration, enlarged lymph nodes, cerebral atrophy, seizures, convulsions, and even spinal cord dysfunction."
Sir Charles is diligent in his enquiry. "I understand the symptoms can mimic other disorders."
"Yes," Liz retorts, "Our patients were initially misdiagnosed with pneumonia, zoonoses, erythema infectiosum, hepatitis A and B, encephalitis, meningitis, encephalomyelitis, balo disease, condyloma, human papilloma virus, simian B, influenza. . ."
Sir Charles cuts her off. "Yes, that's all very well, but what makes this virus unique?"
"For one thing," Liz warrants, "these patients are all extremely sensitive to daylight and cold temperatures."
No sooner does Liz finish her sentence than they enter the main community room. Sir Charles isn't sure whether to look horrified or laugh when he sees four people in nightgowns and bathrobes sitting around in a room as dark as midnight, wearing dark sunglasses.
Liz catches Sir Charles's discomfort, and she is sure her patients must be at a loss as well. "Everyone," she begins, "this is Sir Charles Langham."
Sir Charles receives a round of half-hearted greetings from a sixteen-year-old boy, his dog, an elderly woman in a wheelchair, a young man in his twenties, and a young African woman. Under normal circumstances he would think it odd that a dog would be articulating anything at all, but at the moment he is clearly more concerned about the warmth of the room. He decides to take off his jacket.
Liz continues. "I was just explaining to Sir Charles that treatments for PAIN include continual exposure to enormous humidifiers." Noticing a bead of sweat roll down Sir Charles's face, Liz points out that her patients require an environment of 80 humidity.
"And exactly how many volts of electricity are required daily to power these humidifiers, Doctor Shaw?"
Liz is more than aware that the main purpose for Sir Charles's visit is to determine the feasibility of subsidising Cambridge funds, in the interest of public health; but does he have to be so obvious in front of her patients?
The young man in his twenties speaks. "Does he understand what this virus does to us at a cellular level?" he rebuts.
"That is a good point, Duncan," Liz reassures. "Sir Charles, I did cover that in my report."
We can't have the pretty young lady getting snappy, Sir Charles thinks. At least he must not let her see that his appointment to the Ministry did not pre-require him to be knowledgeable of medicine. "You did mention, I believe, that antibodies produced by the patient's B-cells are actually mutated at a molecular level by the virus?"
Maybe he has some medical aptitude somewhere in that hodgepodge of hormones after all, Liz reflects. "Yes, the B-cells mutate into organisms incapable of fighting off disease."
"And they multiply," adds the elderly woman in the wheelchair. Sir Charles reasons that the mishmash of lines around her mouth and eyes indicate at least twenty years of too much smoking, and the one giant streak of brown in the middle of her bouffant indicates at least twenty years of too little haircoloring.
A tall, middle-aged man wearing a white frock enters the room from the other side.
"Ah, Doctor Fulton, this is Sir Charles from the Ministry," Liz pronounces, "Sir Charles, this is my clinic partner, Doctor Chad Fulton."
"It is very nice to meet you, Sir." Realising that continued funding for their research requires a choice report from Langham, Chad Fulton grasps his hand firmly and decides to embellish himself. "Would you care to inspect our experimental hydrothermia equipment, incubators, and humidifiers, Sir?"
"Oh, smashing," Sir Charles replies.
With that, Doctor Fulton shuffles him into the next room. Liz breathes a sigh of relief and unbuttons the top button of her blouse.
On most of London's streets, a four-foot, slender saronged android with Yssorian headdress would have aroused suspicion. Especially when accompanied by three gorilla-looking guerrillas armed with phaser rifles. But passing in front of Tottenham Court Road's famous sci-fi collectibles store, Y-K and her hired bounty hunters don't afford more than a handful of glances. Most of the pedestrians are more concerned with the wind carrying away their umbrellas.
"So do you think Sir Hormone will cough up any money for the clinic, Doctor Shaw?" Duncan beseeches.
Liz tries not to chuckle out loud. "It could go either way," she replies, "the government is aware of the severity of the PAIN epidemic, but we are in the middle of a recession."
"And they don't care about us," Emily Flynn whines.
"Nobody cares about PAIN victims," Duncan adds sarcastically.
"You don't have to remind me of that," Bryan Spurlow asserts. The faithful dog Theydon whimpers and places his head in his master's lap.
"Poor dear child, no one blames you," Emily sympathises. "You and I, we're a lot alike, you know" she eulogises, "We both got PAIN through those blood transfusions."
Liz feels the room tense.
"It weren't our faults," Emily drones on, "We didn't do none of that risky behaviour like some people." Emily throws a cursory glance at Duncan and the young African woman.
"Oh, shut up Emily!" the young woman snaps.
Liz recognizes a chance to utilize some of that mediation she learnt while settling disputes between The Doctor and the Brigadier. "Now then ladies," she interrupts calmly, "I think we're getting a bit too excited."
The young woman with long black braids continues. "I wish she would stop making snide remarks about our pasts," she insists, "They're not helping any."
"It's alright, Belinda," Duncan asserts, "Don't be so sensitive." The woman must have been born in Nineteen Eleven, Duncan estimates. Things were different in her day and time.
Emily is undaunted. "Mind you, at least Duncan didn't have kids involved."
"Alright, that's enough, Emily," Liz interjects, "Perhaps we should go lie down." Liz takes hold of Emily's wheelchair and steers it towards the door. She glances at Duncan and Belinda apologetically.
Fulton and Sir Charles re-enter the room. Sir Charles briskly tells Liz that they should receive a copy of his report within forty-eight hours, and then he makes a hasty exit. Liz and Fulton look at each other in relief.
"I'm just glad soldiers didn't run through the building with hand grenades or missile launchers or something," Liz quips.
Suddenly, the tarped window of the clinic's community room window is transgressed with outside sunlight, as phaser fire penetrates the community room.
"Everybody get down!" Doctor Fulton warns.
Bryan, Theydon, Duncan, and Belinda scramble to kiss the linoleum and shield their eyes from the light, as Liz rushes towards Emily's wheelchair. "Help me with Emily," she beseeches. Chad Fulton helps Liz lift Emily out of her wheelchair and onto the floor.
"Aaahhhhhhh! I've been hit!" Fulton cries, grasping his shoulder in pain.
Instantly the outside door is thrust open. In march three heavily-armed Ogrons. The Ogrons strategically surround the interior perimeter of the room, covering the humans at all times.
Terrified both for herself and her patients, Liz watches quizzically as an attractive android enters the clinic. The slender android raises her arms above the group of hostages on the floor. Liz, Fulton, Emily, Duncan, and Belinda, are enveloped in a blue light.
"Seize the Spurlow boy," the android commands in a synthesised female voice. Instantly, one of the Ogrons grabs Bryan by the arm and lifts him up off the floor.
"A Yssorian robot," Bryan mumbles, "how interesting."
"Silence," the android mandates. "Take him away."
On cue, two of the Ogrons apprehend the youngster and carry him outside. Without notice, Bryan's dog, Theydon, darts out the community room door.
Speaking into a wrist-worn communicator, the android reports, "Y-K here. Mission accomplished. We have the President, and the others should remain paralysed for several minutes. We will now return to the TARDIS." Signalling the remaining Ogron to follow, Y-K makes a hasty exit.
End of Part Two
Scrubbing the hubcaps of the jeeps with a toothbrush would be more interesting than this, John Benton reflects, as he stirs his cold coffee. Sitting at the radio table, Carol Bell looks just as bored.
"I'd have thought we'd have heard from the Brig by now," Sergeant Benton complains.
Corporal Bell offers optimistically, "He'll call, Sir, don't worry."
Right on cue, the phone on Benton's desk buzzes. "Hello? UNIT H.Q." Benton's hopeful expression turns into a disappointed frown. "I'm afraid he's not here at the moment, Miss," Benton explains. "What? I don't believe it. Calm down, Miss Shaw. Corporal Bell and I are on our way. Goodbye." He quickly returns the headset to the receiver and stands up.
"What do you mean we're on our way, Sergeant?" Bell demands. "The Brigadier specifically ordered us to remain here and man the radio."
Benton gently pushes Bell out of the door as he explains, "Three green apes with phaser rifles and a robot just kidnapped one of Miss Shaw's PAIN patients and left everyone else paralysed for fifteen minutes!"
Liz leaves it to Chad to keep the patients dark and calm, as she shuffles the two armed UNIT officers out of the community room into the corridor.
"Who was kidnapped, Miss Shaw?" Benton asks compassionately.
"A sixteen-year-old boy," Liz explains, "His name is Bryan Spurlow. The poor child contracted PAIN through a blood transfusion."
"How terrible," Corporal Bell admits.
"Schoolmates began calling him rude names, and gangs started thrashing him," Liz proceeds, "And in a final strike his family's house was burnt, killing both of his parents."
Benton and Bell exchange disgusted glances. The Sergeant is the first to respond. "Did they ever find out who started the fire?"
"The police never turned up any evidence, but they suspected SAPP," Liz confesses.
The Brigadier is not pleased. "Where are they, Corporal Farrell?" he demands.
Corporal Farrell looks up from her desk at the enraged face of her superior officer. "They're both at Doctor Shaw's PAIN clinic, Sir."
The Brigadier and The Doctor look at each other in surprise.
"What on Earth are they doing there?" The Doctor enquires.
Farrell explains, to the best of her abilities, that Benton and Bell were responding to a request to investigate a kidnapping. After taking another verbal beating by the Brigadier concerning how kidnappings are matters best left to the police, Farrell clarifies that the kidnappers appear to be of extra-terrestrial origin.
Neither The Doctor nor the Brigadier take much notice to Jo Grant escorting the aged vagrant through the corridor, as they pass them on their way to the laboratory.
Unlike Y-K, the machinate features of X-H favour effortless detection. Therefore concealing himself behind a scanning electron microscope, the two-foot-tall Exxorian android monitors intently as The Doctor and the Brigadier enter.
"Brigadier, do you realise that Liz's clinic is dangerously close to Whatley House?" The Doctor remarks.
"Yes, I do," Lethbridge-Stewart states with certainty, "And I think it's more than a coincidence that Miss Shaw's patient was kidnapped by aliens around the same time The Master was holding another rally."
"So do I," The Doctor agrees.
The Brigadier abruptly changes the subject. "Is that tape ready yet, Doctor?"
"Yes, it is," The Doctor replies, retrieving a cassette tape from an audial amplifier and placing it inside a tape player. "Now to find out what The Master of Ceremonies had to say at this little meeting."
Lethbridge-Stewart and his unpaid scientific adviser are equally disappointed that the tape plays nothing but occasional static. "Why isn't anything playing, Doctor?" the Brigadier finally utters.
The Doctor turns the tape player off. "Because it's been erased," he pronounces.
"By whom?" the Brigadier puts forward.
"Most likely X-H," The Doctor states caustically.
The Brigadier keeps his frustration in check. "You mean that ridiculous little android we encountered during our last conflict with The Master?"
Reasoning that the element of surprise might help him avoid capture, X-H skyrockets over to rest upon the linear phase-shift inverter near The Doctor and the Brigadier. "Nice to see you again, Doctor. It's always a pleasure botching things up for you."
"Stop!" the Brigadier warns. Relying on his military instincts, the Brigadier raises and fires his revolver at the Exxorian android before it can hover away.
"Emergency! Defence grid breached!" X-H relates, before he drops to the floor with a thud.
"Good shooting, Brigadier," The Doctor congratulates, as he picks up the offline X-H and places it on the worktable.
"Thank you, Doctor," the Brigadier accepts with a smile, as he returns his revolver to its holster. "Is it permanently out of commission?"
The Doctor examines X-H thoroughly. "I doubt it. To tell you the truth, I'm rather surprised you were able to damage him as much as you were just now, Brigadier."
"Can you neutralise him so that he won't be dangerous when he regains consciousness?" the Brigadier enquires, "I should like to interrogate him."
"Oh, yes, Brigadier." The Doctor rubs his chin. "In fact, I can do better than that. I can reprogram him to employ a few acts of sabotage with The Master's TARDIS."
The Brigadier acknowledges. "Let me know as soon as he's ready for questioning."
"Not to worry, old chap," The Doctor reassures, "And while you're playing inquisitor, I'm going to pop over to Liz's clinic."
The Brigadier decides to raise an objection. "Do you think it would be wise to leave at such a critical point, Doctor?"
There is no time for such trivial matters, The Doctor thinks to himself. "Brigadier, there is no reason on the Eye of Orion that I should stay here. Besides, Liz must be terrified. She needs me there."
"Miss Shaw is not on her own, Doctor," the Brigadier insists, "Sergeant Benton and Corporal Bell are with her."
"Oh, but they don't count," The Doctor quips, "They're in the Army."
On that note, the Brigadier leaves the lab, closing the door behind him. Only a delay of roughly seven seconds, as Lethbridge-Stewart thinks, 'They don't count—they're in the Army.' "I beg your pardon?" he utters back in the direction of the lab.
Sergeant Benton and Corporal Bell regroup in the clinic's staff break room, after questioning two of the three remaining patients. Bell reports that Duncan Whitacre apparently contracted PAIN through sexual contact with his ex-partner. Benton adds that Belinda Stevens appears to have contracted the virus while sharing unhygienic IV needles for heroin. Not showing any symptoms, she didn't even realise she was a carrier until blood analyses from her newborn twins detected PAIN antibodies.
"Doctor Fulton told me in private," Benton expresses, "that the twins didn't live more than three months."
"What an appalling way to come into and leave the world," a familiar voice at the doorway reflects. Benton and Bell turn to see The Doctor. "Where is Liz?" he asks.
The Sergeant and the Corporal just look at each other. "We thought she was in the community room, Sir," Benton offers.
Liz Shaw enters the break room from the opposite door. "Doctor!" she exclaims, and then she runs into his protective arms. "It's alright, Liz," he reassures.
"No it's not alright," Liz states nervously, "That rowdy teenage SAPP lot are outside the clinic again with picket signs and sticks and rocks." She removes a piece of paper from her white coat. "And I just found this below the letter drop. It's a bomb threat."
The Doctor snatches the note right out of Liz's hands. "It says 'prepare to die-- we've hidden a bomb' and it's signed SAPP."
Benton and Bell stand immediately. "Corporal, go to the east wing of the clinic, I'll go to the west. We're going to fire some warning shots."
"Aye, Sir," Bell acknowledges. The two UNIT soldiers rush out of the break room.
The Doctor is sombre. "Liz, I think we need to consider moving the patients. School kids might not build a bomb. But The Master would blow up an entire planet without batting an eye, if it suited his purposes."
"Doctor, if we move them, then they won't have access to the humidifiers or the hydrothermia equipment," Liz insists, "And the incubators will be ruined." All the months of painstaking research. She cannot possibly allow some meddling galactic misfit and his band of pimple-faced disciples to interfere now.
"Now, Liz," The Doctor says in a firm yet sensitive tone, "Sergeant Benton and Corporal Bell will deal with the SAPP problem. I'm going to ring the Brigadier to get a bomb squad in here to diffuse the bomb..." he pauses, "...if there is one."
Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart strides confidently into the UNIT H.Q. Lab. Busy trying to tune in the portable black-and-white television set on the far side of the lab, Jo Grant rises to her feet when she hears her superior officer enter.
"Is The Doctor back yet, Miss Grant?"
"I'm afraid not, Brigadier," Jo states soothingly, "He stayed to help oversee the transfer of patients to University College Hospital."
"I see," the Brigadier states, "The regular Army has dispatched a bomb disposal squad to the Euston Square Clinic."
"What about SAPP?" Jo asks apprehensively.
The Brigadier's face is grim. "Four hospitals have reported similar attacks on their PAIN patients, only theirs have been bloodier."
Jo's face saddens. "You mean people have died?"
"Two so far," the Brigadier reports, "The Minister of Health is due to issue a recommendation." He just now notices the illuminated television screen. "Were you watching something, Miss Grant?"
"I had a feeling something was happening," Jo admits, "so I was trying to tune in some news."
Mike Yates enters the room and crosses to the Brigadier. "I have the vehicle registration card for one of the SAPP member's father, Sir."
The Brigadier takes the card. "The car is registered to a man by the name of Tom Jrek. Lives in Aldegate."
"Here's something on the hospital attacks," Jo interrupts.
On the television, the BBC anchor reports that the group claiming responsibility for today's attacks and killing of PAIN patients is a group called the Students Against PAIN Patients.
"Charming name," The Doctor notes, as he hangs his cloak on the coat rack and joins the others at the telly.
The anchor continues that SAPP's goal, according to its spokesperson, Professor Gallifrey, is to wipe all PAIN victims from the face of the Earth.
The Doctor turns off the television. "Professor Gallifrey indeed!" he mutters.
As the Brigadier and Yates turn to exit, the Brigadier informs his chief scientist that the interrogation of X-H is completed and that he has been released from H.Q. as he requested. With that, Lethbridge-Stewart and Yates exit.
Suddenly a bright white light and a heavenly tone emerge from the blue police box. "Wait here, Jo," The Doctor commands. With both hesitancy and curiosity, The Doctor steps inside his TARDIS.
Inside, Coordinator Greep of the Time Lords' Celestial Intervention Agency stands at the opposite side of the main console. Following an unendearing greeting on both sides, The Doctor asks if they are lifting his sentence. Laughing, Greep informs him he is not even eligible for parole yet. Not restraining any of his frustration, The Doctor advises the Coordinator that this is not the time for a cell visitation. Interrupting, Greep tells The Doctor that he may be very interested in what happened on the planet Exxoria two-hundred and forty-nine years ago. Before The Doctor can raise another objection, Greep insists that the coordinates are already set.
Peering his head out of the police box, The Doctor looks at Jo. "I'm going on a short journey, Jo, but I'll be right back."
"But, Doctor..."
"Don't argue, Jo. Please." The Doctor withdraws within the blue box again.
End of Part Three
The Doctor rubs his chin thoughtfully, as he strolls slowly around the console. "Alright, Greep, if you'll just show me how to calculate the dematerialisation subroutine."
Coordinator Greep smirks. "Do you really think that I'm that dull-witted, Doctor?"
"I was hoping you were," The Doctor admits.
Greep requires The Doctor to turn around, as he begins keying the dematerialisation sequence. When he hears the time rotor rise and fall, The Doctor turns around again. He folds his arms in defeat.
The sky is bright red, and the freshly-cut grass is a deep ultraviolet pink. It is a beautiful Exxorian afternoon. A crowd of people have gathered at the landing site. Some with orange faces, some with green, some with mauve, some with blue, but all with the characteristic horizontal eye aperture and lack of a mouth.
The Tohri-Lem Wwenx shields his eye with three of his hands, as the exalted vessel of the Time Lords materialises on the platform with a series of grinding wails. Wwenx and two of his aides saunter up the royal mustard-yellow carpet towards the thing that resembles an ancient Exxorian wading pool. As the water parts, Lord President Pandad II disembarks, followed by Chancellors Braghe and Merell. Wwenx and Pandad exchange customary Exxorian and Gallifreyan salutations.
Watching from the back of the crowd, The Doctor asks Greep if this is one of the early diplomatic missions to Exxoria to secure shipments of AI logic-circuit Exxorian androids. Greep confirms, adding that in exchange for the androids, the Time Lords are protecting Exxoria, and its sister planet Yssoria, under the Grand Treaty of Progin.
Suddenly, one of Wwenx's aides employs his telepathic faculties to warn that the planet's force fields never engaged after the High Council's TARDIS landed. Royal Exxorian Guards surround their Tohri-Lem, as the crowd begin to panic.
Without warning, the pleasant red sky is filled with looming black shadows, as two Falconian Battlecruisers scoop down from the stratosphere and open fire on the ground below. The Doctor can almost hear the men, women, and children scream in agony, as their acidic bodies melt in unremitting volleys of disrupter fire.
The Doctor and Greep dive for cover underneath a nearby kiosk set up to sell Treaty souvenirs. Dozens of Royal Guards rush Tohri-Lem Wwenx and his aides to shelter. Only a handful of Guards remain to protect the Time Lords. Chancellor Merell signals for Chancellery Guards on her wrist communicator, but their TARDIS is hit by a Falconian disrupter beam before any can disembark. The wading pool begins to morph into a colossal temple-looking frigate with layers upon layers of illuminated roundels, the intrinsic appearance of an uncloaked TARDIS. Immediately, Pandad's TARDIS implodes in a massive gravity well.
"We must help them to my TARDIS," The Doctor insists.
"No," Greep cautions The Doctor, "We are not permitted to interfere. History must take its course."
The Doctor frowns with disgust. "Then might I suggest we make for my TARDIS?" he persists.
"In a moment," Greep assures him, "There is only a little more you need to see."
The High Council TARDIS's Eye of Harmony conduit has become a vacuum. Disoriented and frightened Exxorians scatter to avoid both the vacuum and the disrupter fire. More innocent people fall to their deaths.
From out of the High Council's TARDIS scampers a familiar canine. Theydon jumps up into his master's arms. The old man embraces his beloved pet, but Theydon's distraction prevents Pandad from noticing the disrupter beam shooting down at him.
"Lord President!" Braghe and Merell cry, as Pandad II is struck. The High Council members rush to his side.
Theydon informs them that the gravity conduit's aperture appears to have shifted from the Eye of Harmony to the third planet in the Terran Solar System. Braghe insists that they should jump into the gravity well. Theydon grabs Pandad by the robe and pulls him towards what is left of their TARDIS. Braghe and Merell bring up the rear.
"I must regenerate..." are the last words Pandad speaks before his entourage leap into the gravity well.
The Doctor's face is full of expression.
"Let's go!" Coordinator Greep instructs.
The Doctor and Greep sidestep Falconian disrupter beams, as they make a quick retreat to the blue police box.
"Mister Jrek, why did you let your son join SAPP?" the Brigadier grills. Tom Jrek is seated in the centre of the outer office. Lethbridge-Stewart walks around him menacingly with a baton. Captain Yates stands directly behind Jrek. Jo Grant watches with repugnance at Corporal Bell's desk.
"To keep the city safe," Jrek replies without remorse.
"And you believe unprovoked attacks on innocent people means keeping the city safe?" the Brigadier demands.
Tom Jrek begins to falter. "Look, I, I, I didn't know they were going to start killing people, now did I?"
The doors open, and The Doctor marches in, looking frayed and tired. "Is Liz here?" he asks urgently.
"Doctor, where have you been..." The Brigadier stops, knowing it is useless. "No, I believe she's back at Euston Square Clinic. The bomb squad located no explosive devices on the premises."
"I see," The Doctor says, "Thank you." With that, The Doctor exits.
Jo throws a concerned glance at the Brigadier, who chooses to continue his interrogation.
With the rain having subsided to a light mist, the aged tramp lady walks with renewed vigour into a back street. She hides in a crevice and begins disrobing her disguise. First the shawl comes off, then the fingerless gloves, then the wig, and finally the mask. She then pulls her sleeve up from her wrist communicator and begins speaking into it.
"Y-K, I want that dog found!" she snarls, "If he manages to send a communiqué to Gallifrey before I can deliver the ransom message..." She stops talking and immediately terminates the transmission. The footsteps are getting louder.
The Master turns the corner, covering her with his atom-tissue compressor. "Greetings, Rani."
"What are you doing here, you celestial child?" she demands.
"Look who's calling me the child," The Master sneers, "the one who hastily kidnaps Pandad the Second in the hopes of collecting a big reward."
"I've no idea what you're talking about," The Rani declares.
"Oh, come off it, Rani!" The Master roars with a smile, "Do you deny that you have Bryan Spurlow?"
"What is a Bryan Spurlow?" The Rani asks innocently.
"The Yssorian robot, Y-K, is she yours?"
"No."
"And the Ogrons you sent to capture the President, you altered their brain patterns to obey you, no doubt."
"No. What Ogrons?"
"Does The Doctor know you're here?" The Master asks.
"No! And neither do you!" The Rani kicks the atom-tissue compressor out of The Master's hand and then produces a hypodermic syringe from her wrist communicator.
The Master simply laughs smugly. "Now, Theydon."
The faithful Gallifreyan canine leaps onto The Rani's back, knocking her down to the wet concrete. "You imbecile!" she wails.
"You see, my dear Rani, Theydon already came to me with a proposal," The Master explains. "Together, we both sent a communiqué to the High Council."
The Rani struggles to reach her communicator. "Y-K, come in!" But her communicator was damaged in the fall. She slams her fist on the wet pavement.
The Master retrieves his atom-tissue compressor. "I want to know your ulterior motives, Rani, and I want to know them now!"
Liz Shaw pulls a file from the cabinet in her tiny clinic office. She places it on the desk and begins shuffling through the pages. The Doctor leans against the wall, waiting impatiently.
"Here it is," she says, "Bryan's parents were named Braghe and Merell."
The Doctor bites his tongue, turns around, runs his fingers through his hair, and then turns to face Liz again. "Why didn't you tell me, Liz? The double hearts should have told you he was a Time Lord."
Liz looks down at her desk, somewhat shamefully. "Doctor patient confidentiality?" she offers hopefully.
"Well," The Doctor pronounces, as he rubs the back of his neck, "I suppose we'd better regroup at UNIT H.Q."
The senior staff have assembled in Lethbridge-Stewart's office. The Doctor, Miss Grant, and Miss Shaw have joined Captain Yates and Sergeant Benton at the conference table. The Brigadier is about to speak, when the doors open.
"I said no interruptions," the Brigadier begins, but he cuts himself off when he sees whom Corporal Bell is escorting inside at gunpoint.
"Good evening, Brigadier. Doctor. Miss Grant." Jo recognizes the unmistakable voice of The Master. She turns to look.
The Rani enters, followed by The Master, followed by Bell. Benton quickly assists Bell by covering the rogue Time Lords from the other side. Yates secures the door. Liz looks at The Doctor's two rivals with puzzled fascination. The Doctor looks most surprised to see The Rani.
"What is going on here?" the Brigadier demands.
The Master is in full form. "You'll see, Brigadier. Allow me to introduce the brilliant Patrex chemist, The Rani. She was a schoolmate of The Doctor's and mine at the Academy."
"What are you doing here, Madam?" The Doctor asks indignantly.
"Sending her Yssorian android to snoop around in my TARDIS, for one thing," The Master states. "It might interest you to know, Rani, that I've decommissioned her. And interestingly enough, when I found her, she was holding a dematerialisation circuit. My dematerialisation circuit."
"Why should I want your dematerialisation circuit?" she retorts.
The Master answers for her. "Because you don't have one. Not anymore. You developed an unstable substitute to get you out of Africa, and you've been able to make short international hops within consecutive time-zones ever since."
Liz isn't interested in the all of the espionage. "Did you say she was a chemist?" she interrupts.
"That's right, Doctor Shaw," The Master elucidates, "You see, ten years ago The Rani was forced to make an emergency landing on the continent of Africa when her guidance systems failed."
The Brigadier has almost entirely run out of patience. "Is this going somewhere?"
"Just a minute, Brigadier," The Doctor says, correcting the Brigadier.
The Master continues, "So The Rani, getting frustrated with her inept ability to repair her damaged dematerialisation circuit, began conducting some of her genetic experiments right there in the jungle."
"How do you know all of this?" The Rani hisses.
The Master is only too happy to explain. "It's amazing how much information one can drain out of a dying android." He laughs. "Incidentally," he adds, "the Ogrons have been returned to their home planet."
"Cretin!" The Rani snaps.
"You see, ladies and gentlemen, The Rani set up a laboratory in one the local villages and convinced the tribe she was British. During one of her experiments, she chemically combined a hybrid of oxen visna virus and horse leukaemia virus and then introduced D-N-A-altering nanites." The Master pauses for dramatic effect. "A hybrid horror!"
"I'm afraid I know where this is going," The Doctor states sheepishly. Frightened, Jo grabs The Doctor's arm.
Liz grips her seatback tightly. She tries to look away. She glances over at a strange-looking armoire. She hadn't noticed that before.
"You placed the specimen in a flask," The Master condemns, "But using your poor knowledge of English, you misspelled 'virus!'"
"No!" The Rani insists.
"You wrote 'vaccine' instead!"
"You murderer!" Liz shouts uncontrollably. In the rush to stand up, her chair falls backwards. Red with outrage, Liz walks over to The Rani. Her hand reaches into her pocket and rests upon the neutraliser given to her earlier.
"Miss Shaw, be careful," the Brigadier cautions.
Liz is not listening, though. "You mass assassin!"
The Master interrupts. "There's more to the story, Miss Shaw. As it turns out, the village doctor was a missionary from New Zealand and spoke very good English. He began using the so-called vaccine to treat smallpox in the village."
"I know the rest," Liz says with a hoarse voice, "The World Health Organization began widespread production of it in Africa."
The Doctor is the next person to speak. "And so you wanted to bargain Pandad the Second's life and the PAIN serum in exchange for a new dematerialisation circuit," he says to The Rani.
The Rani sucks in a cheek and raises the opposite eyebrow. "I'm not speaking."
"Sergeant Benton," the Brigadier bellows, "arrest these two renegade Time Lords!"
"Aye, Sir," Benton responds.
"I'm afraid not, Brigadier," The Master amends, "The High Council have agreed to let me leave the planet in exchange for the safe return of President Pandad the Second."
"The Time Lords have no jurisdiction here," the Brigadier shouts.
"I suggest you honour the agreement, though," The Master advises.
The Doctor knows his best enemy too well. "You confiscated the serum, didn't you?" he asks.
The Master chuckles. "Doctor Shaw, I think you will find all the necessary formulas to manufacture the serum at your clinic, in the safe hands of Doctor Fulton right at this very moment."
Liz is confused. The man who for weeks has been stirring up violent attacks on her clinic is now responsible for curing the patients? This is a very strange man indeed. "Thank you," she says in a muffled voice.
The Doctor won't be beaten. "Master, I think you'll find that I reprogrammed X-H to power down your TARDIS's helmic regulators and change the access algorithms."
"The regulators are back online, and the algorithms have been restored to their original configurations," The Master explains, "thanks to Coordinator Greep."
The Doctor frowns. The Brigadier orders Captain Yates to apprehend The Rani. As Yates reaches for her arm, his hand passes right through it. The holographic projection of The Rani fades, and the strange armoire begins to dematerialise.
The Brigadier turns around in shock.
Suddenly, The Master is enveloped in a transmat field. "Oh, by the way, Doctor, thank you for sending that dog, Theydon, my way." The Master dematerialises.
"You had the dog help The Master contact the Time Lords?" Jo reflects.
The Doctor tries to ignore the Brigadier's fiery gaze. "Well, you see, I didn't want ole Alistair here thinking I was collaborating with a known UNIT enemy."
"Doctor!" the Brigadier begins. . .
End of Part Four