"Twenty-four hours. Likely to be less than twenty-four hours now." Mike sat on the pedestal bearing the huge golden look-a-like of Alexander the Great. "That's how much time we have left before this whole planet goes on its grand tour - and look at us."

"Where there's life there's hope, as they say; and at least we're still alive, Mike." K'anpo sat on the ground at his feet, legs crossed, head bowed. "Unlike the others. We were five, and now we are three."

"And it's got us nowhere." The human heaved a long, deep sigh that seemed to come from his very soul. "Karys died so that I could escape and get back to warn you, and look where that got us. We're trapped in a golden city in the middle of nowhere with an army after us, and to top it all the entire population of the planet faces imminent death in no more than a day, unless we manage to do something about it." He rubbed his eyes. "What happened, K'anpo? Lonis was fine. There was nothing wrong with him."

"I don't know." The little man was shaking his head. "It was all so sudden, and the rest of us are fine..."

"Well now you come to mention it..." Standing nearby, arms folded, Rachda was beginning to look rather pale. "I haven't been feeling all that good. It's as though... I don't know. As though my lungs don't want to work. My chest feels heavy."

"Sit down. Breathe slowly and steadily. You must allow your body to relax." K'anpo was beside him in seconds, doctor and counsellor all in one. "Relax Rachda. Relax."

"Easy for you to say." He managed a weak imitation of a smile. "It's okay. I don't feel half as bad as Lonis looked. I just... I feel so weak. Like... like I'd suddenly become an asthmatic. It's since we came here, to this city. I feel... as though something here is poisonous."

"There's nothing here. Nothing but stone and gold. Are you allergic to that?" Mike glanced up at K'anpo. "Is that possible?"

"Highly unlikely. He wears a gold necklace every day of his life." K'anpo reached out to touch the medallion. "Although of course Lonis is dead, and he wore no such necklace."

"I've worn it every day since I was seventeen." Rachda sucked in a breath from between clenched teeth. "It's a very high honour among my people."

"And it may be the reason for your survival." K'anpo was frowning deeply, his face a sudden mass of lines and wrinkles. "Supposing that you were allergic to gold; your constant exposure to a small amount of it through this necklace could well have given you some resistance; a resistance that Lonis did not have."

"That's crazy. I'm not allergic to gold; and even if I were, what are the chances of both Lonis and I suffering the same affliction? We're not even related." Rachda took several steadying breaths. "I need fresh air. I have to leave here."

"I rather think that you do, yes." K'anpo helped him to his feet. "I don't know what's happened to your people, Rachda, and how a race that once spent their entire lives surrounded by gold could suddenly come to be so violently allergic to it; but I would imagine that to be the only explanation for these events here."

"We've always used gold. It was the element on which our entire civilisation was based."

"Not anymore." K'anpo shook his head. "How could I have been so stupid? I may have signed Lonis' death warrant by allowing you all to come here. I should have realised sooner. The clues were all here."

"What clues?" Mike was frustrated, confused by a situation that he barely understood. How could the people of this planet be allergic to gold? There had been veins of it in the wall of the cave they called home. Admittedly it had been a case of small seams in a place filled with a lot of people, but all the same... He remembered what Rachda had said about the high death rate in the cave, and a frown crossed his face.

"The clues, Mike. A world, a people - an entire civilisation similar to Earth in so many ways. Vegetation, animals, birds - all so familiar to us, remember? A race of people determined to leave their organic flesh behind, and to adapt their bodies through the addition of mechanical and electrical components. Semi-organic robot-like creatures who come from a race who are fatally allergic to gold. Do you see it Mike?"

"I see it." He had been standing, but now he sank back onto the pedestal which had been his earlier seat. "This is Mondas. Earth's sister planet."

"It is indeed." The bright little eyes might usually have shone up at him, in congratulation for a fine deduction; but now they were lowered in sorrow. "If I had seen one of the Embellished perhaps I would have recognised them; but you of course have only seen the later versions. These will be their earliest known form; when their bodies were far more reminiscent of the organic creatures that they once were."

"Then there's nothing that we can do. We know what they do with the planet, and we know where they go from here. We can't stop them." Mike was shaking his head. "There should be something - anything. If we could find a way to destroy them now..."

"It wouldn't work. As you said, there's nothing that we can do; and given the far-reaching effects the Cybermen have had on the universe, we shouldn't even be talking about it. History must be allowed to continue the way it was meant to."

"We could save a lot of lives."

"And destroy a lot of others." The Time Lord heaved a long sigh. "I've taught you better than to suggest such things, Mike. Who is to decide which way is right and which way is wrong?"

"I know." The young captain turned his head, staring away into space. "I know all of that. I just don't like it."

"To be given the ability to travel in Time is a great gift, Mike. But it carries rules that are often hard to keep. Perhaps a man killed in one of the Cyber Wars might otherwise have turned into a dreadful dictator, who murdered millions and destroyed worlds. All is possible. These are things that must be considered."

"Yeah." Mike lowered his eyes, then smiled sadly and stood up. "Okay K'anpo, we play it your way; but we're leaving here now, and we're going back to the TARDIS. We have to get as many people off this planet as we can."

"Of course." The Time Lord took his hand. "Help Rachda now. He's weakening fast."

"But what about you?" His voice tired, Rachda managed a blurry stare up at the strange little man now standing before him. "You both feel okay?"

"Don't worry about us. Remember that we're not from this planet." Mike pulled him to his feet, getting a steadying grip on his shoulders to keep him upright. "Just concentrate on putting one foot before the other."

"We're leaving?" Rachda sounded confused, as though his mind was no longer working too well. "Why? I thought we were going to hide here?"

"Not if it means sitting here watching you die." Mike glanced up at K'anpo. "We should take something with us, as a weapon. I have my gun, but gold would be much more effective."

"A good point." The Time Lord bent to the ground at his feet, using a small pocket knife to lever some of the gold stones out of the path surrounding the giant statue. "I think..." He dug around in his pockets. "Ah yes. Here it is." And he held up a small catapult, a piece of rubber tubing stretched between the forks of a hand-carved chunk of wood. "Perfect."

"I'm not even going to ask where you picked that up." Mike smiled at him, already heading back towards the point where they had entered the Cities. "Do we use the same route out as in?"

"There are many doors, as you can see from this side of the wall. I doubt that it makes a great deal of difference which we use."

"You think they're out there waiting for us?"

"Not too close. I imagine that they know about their allergy to gold; their level of efficiency and readiness is too great to allow them to miss something of such importance."

"Then there's every chance that we'll be able to make a break for it." Mike nodded firmly, his old, soldierly instincts already taking over. K'anpo was a man of great intellect, but they both knew that there were times when he had to let his travelling companion take centre stage. Drawing his gun and using his free hand to support Rachda, Mike set his eyes on the exit from the Cities and turned his mind to the task ahead. Try as he might, however, as he headed towards yet another confrontation with yet another alien race, he could not stop himself wishing for the comradeship of his friends. If he died here, he couldn't help wondering who would notice; and whether John Benton and the Brigadier would ever stop to wonder what had become of the man who had once betrayed them both.

xxxxxxxxxx

Outside the Cities everything was unnaturally quiet. Mike led the way, hampered only slightly by a fast recovering Rachda. The young man was shaking his head at frequent, regular intervals, as though trying to give his consciousness a sharp knock back into place. Soon he was walking on his own, silent and confused, uncertain why they had left their refuge but unwilling to ask. His memory was playing tricks on him.

"Where are we going?" he asked eventually. K'anpo, who had fallen into step beside him, turned to offer him a bright smile that quite inexplicably seemed to lighten the day.

"We're going back to your headquarters. It's time to begin the evacuation of the planet. With luck I can make several trips to some temporary place, and rescue as many of your people as I can." His smiled dimmed and a look of infinite sadness replaced it. "I wish that I could save more, but I doubt my ability to save even as many as a quarter."

"Whatever you do K'anpo, we'll appreciate it. You've already done more in twenty-four hours than half the population of the planet has managed in twenty-four years." He smiled a small, bitter smile. "To think that we've been brought to our knees by a faction of our own people."

"Not your own people. Not anymore." K'anpo was shaking his head slowly from side to side, looking like a small gnome imparting great wisdom. "They are no longer citizens of Mondas in the same way as you. They are a new race."

"You know about them; more about them than you thought you did." Rachda was frowning, remembering sketchy details of the conversation back in the Cities of Gold, just before they had left. "It meant something to you, to learn that gold effects us all that way."

"Yes." K'anpo did not meet his gaze. "I can't tell you, Rachda. The knowledge I have is from the future; your future, maybe - certainly the future of the Embellished. I can't risk anything happening to that."

"Then they flourish." Rachda turned away, staring back towards the receding sight of the great, white wall. "They escape here and they continue to exist."

"Yes, they do. They leave their mark on history, in just the same way as your own people. That is the way of the universe."

"If you know what happens to the Embellished, do you also know what happens to the rest of us? To the ordinary people of Mondas? Where do we go? What kind of life do we live? I don't want my descendants to be homeless refugees for the rest of Time." There was a silence, and he cast a sidelong glance at his travelling companion. "K'anpo?"

"I'm sorry Rachda. I can't tell you these things. It isn't allowed. Think what would happen if you decided to change it? The effects could be catastrophic. You have to wait and see for yourself, and then you'll know. I can't tell you any more."

"Fine." The younger man turned away, looking instead towards Mike who was climbing up a hillside ahead of them. "All I really want to know is how to make it through today."

"None of us know the answer to that one." K'anpo smiled at him and he managed to return the gesture. "Go ahead now. You don't want to stumble along back here with me. Go and see if you can help Mike. I feel sure that this silence is too complete to last."

"That doesn't sound terribly reassuring." They shared another smile - this time one with rather more feeling - then Rachda did as he was told. He agreed with K'anpo. The silence was worse than off-putting; it was deeply disturbing. Up ahead Mike had reached the crest of the hill, and he had come to a halt. Rachda quickened his step in order to catch up with him, glad that the alien soldier had taken the time to wait for his two companions.

"Mike?" He caught up at last, finally admitting to himself that the episode back in the Cities had taken a great deal out of him. "I don't suppose you can see our hover-car from up here?" It was a joke more than anything, but Mike did not smile. He did not look at Rachda either, but merely stared at something in the distance. What little of his face that Rachda could see looked drawn.

"Look." Raising one hand to point, Mike gestured down into the valley over which they now looked. Rachda followed the pointing hand, straining his eyes to see. His vision was a little limited still, blurred around the edges as though badly out of tune. He cupped a hand above his eyes, frowning in concentration, but could see no sign of the Embellished. That was a good thing, surely? - although Mike's expression suggested otherwise. He frowned, than saw something moving; something indistinct against the drab brown and grey of the rocks. People. He could see people.

"What is it?" He was leaning so far forward that he was in serious danger of falling over the side of the hill. A long, steep slope awaited him, but he shut his mind to it, concentrating instead on the vague images of people moving below him. There were a lot of them; he could see that now, and it worried him to his very core. He had no idea who they were, or why they were there, but it set his heart pounding fast, and brought a cold sweat to his forehead. Unease took its clammy-fingered hold.

"People." Mike's voice was soft. "Thousands of them." He took a step forward, as heedless of the steep drop as was Rachda. "I didn't see them at first, and then I thought there were only a few of them, but if you keep on looking, they just keep on coming."

"They're my people. They have to be - ordinary Mondasians. But why would they come here?"

"I don't know." Mike shook his head, unable to think of a reason. He wanted to turn back to ask K'anpo, but he didn't seem able to take his eyes from the incredible scene before him. It was clearly an exodus; a mass movement on a grand scale. It seemed as though an entire city of people had left their homes and gathered together for a long walk into the hills. "Maybe they're looking for the Embellished. A last resort; people that they think might be able to help them?"

"I don't think so." The mention of the Embellished had set the hairs on the back of Rachda's neck twitching. He had been trying to forget them, but of course they were still out here. They had been chasing his party, and they undoubtedly still were. He couldn't imagine them being the type to give up easily. Quite suddenly he felt certain that he was being watched; that somewhere in all of this uninhabited gravely landscape there was at least one pair of eyes - or eye-holes - fixed intently on his back. "There are other colonies of Embellished far closer to the inhabited sectors. It wouldn't make sense to come this far, unless..." He groaned. "Unless they were looking for something vastly more important."

"Such as?" Mike asked. Rachda opened his mouth to speak, but it was K'anpo who actually answered, his voice as calm and as gentle as ever as he reached the crest of the hill to stand beside them.

"They're looking for sanctuary," he said, the tone of his voice unreadable. "I imagine that they've finally realised just how little time they have left. Without ships to take them away, and without any means to prevent an imminent catastrophe, they're heading towards the one place that represents an idea of safety to them. The place where their forefathers sheltered from another catastrophe a thousand years ago."

Mike stared at him, his eyes widening. "The Cities of Gold..." It was a whisper so quiet that it was barely audible. "But they'll all die."

"Precisely." For once a smile did not readily come to K'anpo's lips. "We must stop them. Immediately."

"I think they might have something to say about that." Rachda was looking past the two travellers, but he was not looking at the masses below. Instead his eyes were fixed on some other sight, which Mike had already guessed at before he turned around to see it himself. Five of the Embellished - five Cybermen, he corrected himself - were standing in a row about a stone's throw from the three, their heavy laser pistols drawn. One stepped forward, its great height imposing even at the substantial distance still between them.

"You will surrender," it said loudly, showing characteristic lack of imagination. "The Mondasians will be allowed to pass."

"That's crazy!" Rachda took a step closer, but found Mike barring his way. "There are countless thousands of people down there, all heading straight for a place that will kill them."

"Preventing their deaths would serve no purpose. They will die soon anyway, when the planet leaves its orbit." The lead Cyberman stalked up to the little group, surveying them with an empty, unimpressed gaze. "We wish to interrogate you before you are left to perish in the last hours of the planet. Two of you are not like the others." Its gaze moved past Mike to settle on K'anpo. "One of you is very different."

"I should hate to be one of the crowd." K'anpo narrowed his eyes. "But you're wrong about one thing, my friend. We have no intention of allowing those people to go to the Cities of Gold. On the contrary, we plan to stop them." He folded his arms, drawing himself up to his full height, which was not much at the best of times, and appeared considerably less when confronting a Cyberman. "I defy you to stop us." The Cyberman made a wheezing sound very like thick laughter, and the Time Lord glared at him.

"It's not a good idea to laugh at people. One day you might find that they have far greater reason to be laughing at you."

"Enough." The Cyberman gestured with an arm and its fellows stepped forward to stand alongside it. "You will speak in interrogation, and you will say nothing until then."

"Ready Mike?" Ignoring this order, K'anpo stole a glance at his companion. The young Captain nodded determinedly.

"Ready," he said firmly, his own eyes fixed intently on the two Cybermen off to the left of the leader.

"Good." K'anpo spoke the word as lightly as if they had just agreed to go to the beach for tea. Mike was not quite sure when the catapult had found its way into the Time Lord's hand, or quite when he had fitted one of the little nuggets of gold into its sling. He was only aware of the gun in his own hand, and of Rachda letting out a shout of alarm.

The Cyberleader fired in the same moment that Mike flung himself to one side and came up shooting. He heard one Cyberman yell out in machine-like mimicry of pain; heard the second of his two targets fire his own weapon and heard Rachda yell out. Fear lanced its way through Mike's heart; the last thing that he wanted was to lose another friend. He had already lost two today, and was on the verge of losing their entire civilisation into the bargain. A metallic pinging noise distracted him momentarily, and he threw himself into an uncontrolled roll down the first few feet of the slope, dodging a strafe from yet another Cyberman. A hoarse cry echoed in his ears, and he scrambled back up the slope to see the Cyberleader collapsed to the ground, holding the metal body-part that stood in place of its once human throat. Black oil-like liquid poured from its mouth and it collapsed onto its knees, bubbles of the same black blood frothing from the unit on its chest. One large metal hand groped blindly at the air, and for a second Mike was frozen, watching in horrified fascination; before something hit him squarely in the back and he felt himself slammed into the ground.

"It's okay Mike. Take it easy." Rachda was holding him down, and Mike relaxed as his battle-orientated mind recognised the voice. He glanced up, seeing the Cyberman above him, and raised his gun in a hand that did not feel as steady as it might. The creature fell without a sound, blasted by its own superior technology.

"Thanks." Mike offered Rachda a breathless grin, aware that he would undoubtedly now be dead were it not for his friend's quick thinking. "I thought they'd got you."

"So did I." The other man pulled him to his feet. "Where's K'anpo?"

"Keeping the other two busy I hope." They hurried back up the slope, gazing out at the scene of carnage before them. Four of the Cybermen were dead, their bodies lying in slumped poses that were almost human. Two of them still dripped black blood onto the stony ground, a clear sign of the gold-induced manner of their deaths. It was not a pleasant sight.

"K'anpo?" As anxious to spot the fifth Cyberman as he was to find his friend, Mike held his gun up, in clear-minded readiness to fire.

"Surrender!" He spun about, his body freezing in shock almost before his mind had been able to process the sight now before him. The fifth Cyberman lumbered into view from behind its makeshift cover of rocks, K'anpo held limply in one enormous arm. He appeared to be unconscious, his eyes closed and his body unmoving. "Surrender!" The Cyberman shouted again, brandishing the Time Lord as though he were a rag doll left untidily on the floor of a child's playroom. "Or he will be destroyed."

"If you kill him, I'll kill you." Mike had a clear shot at the creature's head, but he was unwilling to try anything whilst K'anpo was still in danger. "Let him go and we'll talk."

"Inferior races have nothing to offer us. We are in control." The Cyberman took a lumbering step forward. "Surrender or he dies." It pressed its gun against K'anpo's skull, charging the weapon with a whirring, humming sound that made the hairs on the back of Mike's neck tingle. Without further ado he lowered his own gun to the ground, then raised his hands.

"Okay, we're surrendering. Now let him go."

The creature made the curious wheezing sound now recognisable as a form of laughter, and threw K'anpo to the ground - then turned its laser pistol to point straight at the Time Lord. "Promises to inferior races are of no importance," it intoned in its empty, mechanical voice. Mike saw its heavy finger tighten on the trigger.

"What-?" With a grunt of confusion the creature dropped its gun, clasping at its chest unit. "What has happened? What is wrong?" Mike looked down at K'anpo, and saw the little Time Lord staring up at his former captor with a look of grim determination on his face. The catapult was once again in his hands. Above him the Cyberman wobbled on uncertain metal legs, then crashed to the ground. Black oily liquid bubbled out of its mouth, some of it splashing onto K'anpo's trousers. He made no effort to move out of the way.

"I hated doing that," he muttered to himself, seeming not to care whether or not Mike and Rachda were able to hear him. Mike helped him to his feet.

"In the past I've had to help wipe out what felt like entire races in order to save the people of Earth," he observed quietly, his eyes seeming to be focussed on sights far more distant than the man who held his gaze. "If we like doing it, I think it undermines the whole reason why we're doing it in the first place." He was surprised to see K'anpo smile in response.

"Sometimes Mike, I think that you should be the teacher." He clapped his younger companion on the shoulder. "And now we have another problem to deal with. We have to stop those people getting to the Cities of Gold."

"Do you indeed." Strangely the voice sounded familiar, and as the threesome turned they saw a tall, heavy-set man coming towards them. He ran a hand across a neat, thick beard. "And why would you want to do that?"

"Gallden!" Rachda took a step towards him, but froze at the sight of a gun in his fellow Mondasian's hand. "What's going on?"

"Don't come any closer." The man - Gallden - who had tried to execute Mike and K'anpo upon their arrival on the planet, looked from one to the other of the three. "I can't believe you'd try to stop us from finding shelter. Why is that? Are you hoping to keep the Cities to yourselves? Is that it? Were you planning to sell them the gold for their own people, Rachda?" He took his eyes off them for the briefest of moments to check back on the approach of his fellows. Three other men were rounding the crest of the hill, although the main body was still a long way distant. "You're not going to stop us from reaching sanctuary."

"You think a few buildings made of gold can protect you from the sort of conditions this planet will be facing in outer space?!" Mike shook his head, exasperated. "Listen to me. We have a ship. It can take you away from here - to anywhere in the universe that you choose. All that you have to do is--"

"Shut up." One of Gallden's cronies stepped up, pulling the catapult from K'anpo's hand and throwing it a short distance away. "We don't believe you. Why should we? You're offworlders, and you're not to be trusted. All that people like you want is to take our gold."

"That's not true, Jakon. Trust me, I've come to know these people. You can believe what they say." Rachda took a second step towards Gallden, only to be held back by the nearest of the other man's associates. He struggled, but it was to no avail. "Listen Gallden, please! You have to understand something. Why did our people stop using gold as a building material? Why? It wasn't because we were running out, the hills up here are full of the stuff. It's because something has happened since the years of the plague. It has a certain irony about it, given that we once lived for nothing but gold - but if you go anywhere near it now you'll die. It'll kill you, just like it killed these Embellished here."

"Shut up Rachda." The man holding him pushed him closer to K'anpo and Mike. The young Mondasian struggled, desperate.

"You have to listen to me. Please!"

"You must hear what we have to say." K'anpo, his hands folded in a sign of his own harmlessness, gazed steadily at Gallden. "Gold is poison to your people now. If you go to the Cities of Gold, you'll die there; and if the gold itself doesn't get you, the fate of your planet will. I know that you believe the Cities to be protection against all, but that just isn't true. I doubt whether they were even protection against the plague all those years ago."

"Blasphemy!" The man named by Rachda as Jakon raised his gun. "We should kill you now and have done with it."

"But we have better things to occupy our time." The man holding Rachda upended his gun and dealt his prisoner a stunning blow across the back of the head. "Better to leave you here to await your own destruction when the time comes." He let the slumped form in his arms collapse to the ground, then gave a short laugh. "Not long now."

"You have to listen." It was Mike's turn to make a plea for sense, but even as he was moving towards Gallden he saw the gun in the other man's hand. "All we want is to help."

"Yeah?" Gallden gave a snort of amusement. "Hard luck." He fired, and the beam consumed Mike, dropping him to the ground. K'anpo gasped, trying to hurry to the assistance of his friend. Jakon moved to stop him, but the Time Lord spun him away with a simple application of Venusian Aikido, himself dropping to his knees at Mike's side. He was relieved to find his companion still breathing; clearly Gallden really did want them to be alive when the end of the world came. He stared up at the Mondasian.

"May whatever god you believe in forgive you for what you're about to do," he said softly. "And may he forgive me for not finding a way to stop you." Gallden laughed.

"You should have been on the stage old man." There was sarcasm in his voice, and general unpleasantness. K'anpo still felt as though his heart might break, even as the beam from the gun was enveloping him and he was collapsing into blissful oblivion.

xxxxxxxxxx

"They're gone aren't they." Rachda was standing on the highest point of the hillside, staring down to the tiny sliver of white that was all he could see of the wall surrounding the Cities of Gold. Mike, helping K'anpo to his feet, glanced down the slope beside them. He could see footprints scuffed together in the dry and dusty ground, but the great line of refugees had gone. He didn't know where to look, trying to avoid the pain-filled eyes of the Mondasian above him.

"They're gone." K'anpo glanced skyward. "And I have no idea how much longer we have until we risk joining them. There is no sign yet that the planet is losing its orbit, so I think we can assume that we have time enough left to reach the TARDIS. All the same, we have to leave now."

"What about the others? You're not telling me that was the entire population of the planet that just went down there?" Mike's voice was plaintive, and K'anpo offered him a sad smile.

"We have no time, Mike. There is so little of it left."

"We have to save somebody."

"We save ourselves." The bright eyes stared at him unblinkingly. "We don't know where the others are, and we have no way of persuading them to trust in us. You saw what happened with the others."

"But--"

"He's right Mike. They'd laugh in your face, or maybe shoot you dead before you finished your first sentence." Rachda climbed back down from his vantage point on high. "It's time to leave. Cut your losses and go. I've lost a lot of friends today and I won't lose you as well."

"Wise words my friend. Wise words." K'anpo put his hand on Mike's arm. "Come along my boy. We must be going. We have a long walk to the TARDIS."

Rachda smiled sadly. "I've heard a lot about this TARDIS. I should have liked the chance to see it."

"You will see it." Mike was frowning at him. "We're going there now."

"Not me Mike." His sad smile was gone, and he had turned once again to face in the direction of the Cities of Gold. "I won't be the last flesh and blood citizen of Mondas left alive. I won't leave here when the rest of my people never got the chance. I'm sorry."

"But that's madness!" Mike shook his head. "You'll die if you stay here."

"I know." The answer was simple, and the Mondasian did not elaborate. Instead he turned away, picking up K'anpo's catapult and Mike's laser gun from the ground. He handed them back. "Just leave. Please."

"No." Mike took the gun by reflex, but he did not move an inch in any other way. "Not without you."

"There isn't time for this Mike. Just respect my decision. With a planet about to enter the greatest of all ice ages and a race that just committed mass suicide, there isn't much else for me to live for. I want to end it my way."

"He's right Mike. It is his decision and not ours." K'anpo stepped forward, shaking Rachda's hand. "Good luck my boy. Perhaps one day we'll meet again."

"Not likely in this world old man." Rachda smiled warmly. "But maybe in the next..."

"I'll look for you." The little Time Lord turned away, already beginning the long walk back to his mobile home. He did not look back.

"Goodbye Mike." Rachda held out his hand, but it was several seconds before Mike stepped forward to shake it. "I did hear right, didn't I? This planet is the sister of your own?"

"You heard right." Mike smiled. "It's just like this place in so many ways."

"But perhaps a little more stable." Rachda grinned. "I wish it long life. You'll go back there one day. You have the look of a man who ran from something, but you'll find your answers in the end."

"Philosophy now? Do you read palms as well?" They shared a short, almost humourless laugh, before finally Rachda took the golden chain from around his neck. He handed it to Mike.

"Take this. Please? I want you to remember us here, and - and next time that you run into these... these Cybermen... remember the other people of Mondas too. Remember what we were like?"

"I'll remember." Mike's hand closed around the chain. "Goodbye Rachda."

"Goodbye." They said nothing more, amd Mike merely turned around and began to walk. Rachda watched him for a second, glad that the other man did not turn to look back at him; then he turned around himself and headed for the Cities of Gold. He had lost his key now and he had no way to get in, but he wanted to be nearby when the end came. There was nowhere else for him to go.

xxxxxxxxxx

"I suppose the Cybermen have left by now." Mike stood despondently beside the console, watching as K'anpo set the controls.

"Undoubtedly." The Time Lord glanced at his dials and readings. "The atmosphere is starting to break up, we must leave before the integrity of the planet crumbles. There will be severe storms in the last few hours, and very likely tidal waves. Do you want to watch?"

"No." Mike smiled at him, his eyes and face showing signs of fatigue. "I'm going to take a walk. I'll see you later."

"Of course." As his companion departed for the inner realms of the TARDIS, K'anpo dematerialised the Ship and set her on her way. He had no wish to see the end either. He didn't want to be standing before the scanner screen, thinking about the terrible way in which so many people were dying. It was an experience that he would much rather live without.

"Sleep well, Rachda," he whispered to the universe at large. Maybe, if sound waves really did travel forever, the name of his friend would remain eternal in that way at least; an ongoing ripple in space that would roll on for the rest of Time. On any other occasion he would have chastised himself for such a romantic notion, but not today. Today he wanted the comfort of a thought like that. He stared at the scanner screen for a moment, thinking about all of the Cybermen in their ships, heading out across space. He could destroy them. He could end their tyranny forever; and yet he knew that he never would. With the certainty of this lying in his heart he turned away, leaving the TARDIS to its own devices, and headed off into its secret innermost rooms for a walk of his own. And far, far away, Gallden stood in a small room in one of the Cities, listening to the carnage going on beyond the dome, listening to the dying cries of the last of his people, feeling his life ebbing slowly away from him. He stared down at the body of Lonis, lying covered by a blanket on a bed with sheets of woven gold. The young man looked peaceful - serene almost - and at last Gallden understood. He fell to the floor beside the bed and reached up to touch the hand of the dead man above him. Such a waste - but he had no time for regret. He thought of the others and he apologised to them silently, and he thought of Mike and K'anpo and he wished them well. Finally he closed his eyes. Death came in an instant, and an instant later the last of his people breathed their final breath. In moments their planet was adrift on a journey of its own, and in the shadows of its vapour trail the ships of the Cybermen flew on.

THE END