"Keep an eye on him," the Doctor replied, already hurrying toward the base of the plateau. He stood for a moment looking up at the expanse of rock. The sight of the ragged scar along the top caused a tightening in his chest.

He rested his palms against the warm stone and closed his eyes. His lips worked silently for several seconds before he ceased moving. With one final exhalation, his slender frame sagged limply into the stone.

Rose watched the Time Lord's motions with both interest and apprehension, alternating her attention between the unmoving constable and him. When she saw him sliding down to the ground, however, she left Greare and hurried to her companion's side.

"Doctor!" she cried, reaching for his shoulder.

His eyes shot open, and he grinned at her. "Hello!" Then he frowned as his gaze moved past her. "Didn't I tell you to stay with Greare?"

"I saw you falling," she said, "and I was worried about you. Are you all right?"

"Right as rain." He hopped to his feet.

"And the constable? He's still alive, isn't he?"

"Most likely. Quite probably. I'm sure he is." He was already walking briskly back toward the wall. When he reached Greare, he held the sonic screwdriver to his temple then pointed it toward his heart. "Neurological activity's significantly decreased, but his heart's still beating, though very slowly."

Rose thought she heard just a hint of relief in his voice. She said, rather sternly, "And just how're you planning on getting him back? Because even with your superior Time Lord intelligence we almost didn't make it, and I know he's nowhere near as clever as you."

"True, but luckily he's got my superior Time Lord intelligence to help him—that and my bit of telepathic ability. Not to mention this." He held up the screwdriver.

Rose waited for his explanation, finally resorting to the simple expedient of, "Well?"

"Hmm?" He had slipped on his glasses and crouched beside the constable to study the man's face. "Looks peaceful, doesn't he?"

"Yeah—too peaceful. So how're you gonna save him?"

"Oh, well, that's easy. I had a nice little telepathic chat with our rocky friends and explained that they needed to show him what they'd shown us and then be sure to send him right back here. With his body so close, they shouldn't have any trouble with that. But just in case, I can extract his psychic energy with the sonic screwdriver, and once it's out here it'll just whoosh right back into him."

"You sure?"

"Absolutely" He adjusted his glasses. "Mostly." He twirled the screwdriver. "Fairly."

Rose sighed and sat down beside him. "So how long's it gonna take?"

"Not long, I shouldn't think. But let's give them, oh, I don't know, maybe another ten minutes or so." He was sitting cross-legged next to her now, fingers drumming absently on his knee.

She glanced down. "Ian Dury again?"

"Nope. Bow Wow Wow—catchy beat, that chihuahua song, don't you think?" His hand shifted to tap out the rhythm just above her knee.

They sat for some time chatting idly. Both watched Greare for returning signs of life, and several times the Doctor rested a hand over the man's chest. When Rose judged that at least fifteen minutes had passed, she began to grow concerned.

"Shouldn't he be back by now?" she asked.

The Time Lord peered at the fine crack along the base of the wall as though he could see inside. Finally he answered, "Yes."

The brevity of his response told Rose that he was worried, too. She watched as he adjusted the settings on the screwdriver then got to his feet. He took her hand and led her several meters away from the wall. Brow tight with concentration, he aimed the instrument at the small crevice. He watched the tiny lights flickering, beginning to shift his weight nervously from one foot to the other. "Come on, come on," he murmured.

"Doctor? Isn't it working?"

He shook his head. "Just wait… it's not quite…" His fingers moved over the screwdriver so quickly that her eyes could not follow the motion.

Abruptly his hand dropped to his side. Rose suppressed a gasp; it hadn't worked. They had effectively trapped the constable's psyche in some sort of limbo. She wondered how long his body could survive.

She did not realize that she was staring at his chest until she saw it rise. This time she did not attempt to hold back the little exhalation of relief that burst from her mouth. "I think he's breathing," she said.

The Doctor knelt beside him. "Yep. Pulmonary and coronary function are nearly back to normal." His voice was just a bit too loud and cheerful.

Greare opened his eyes a minute or so later. For a long moment he kept his gaze upon the Doctor's face, his mouth moving mutely. Rose rested her hand on his shoulder, and he inhaled shakily. By the time he was able to form words, his cheeks were wet with tears.

"My God," he choked out, "the pain—the agony. I never knew; none of us ever knew. We'd never have—"

"We know," Rose interjected gently as the Doctor helped the constable to sit up.

"I'm sorry," Greare said huskily. "I should have believed you."

"It was a pretty unbelievable story," she acknowledged.

The lawman nodded then winced as he began to stand, his hand knotting into a fist. He rubbed at his back.

"Sorry we had to put you through that," the Doctor said, "but I think I can make it up to you." He aimed the screwdriver at Greare's spine, gave the device a quick twist, then delivered three rapid pulses of light to the man's back. He jumped to his feet and extended a hand to the constable.

Greare took it and rose gingerly. "My back," he began. "What did you do?"

"Oh, just a quick repair job. You had a nasty little lumbar radiculopathy, but it's all sorted now."

"How in the world did you do that?" asked the awe-struck fellow.

"Setting 36611—zapped the fragments of the nucleated disk."

Greare shook his head in continued confusion, so Rose said, "You probably don't want to understand, really. It's just what he does."

"What he does?" the constable repeated.

"Yeah. He fixes things."

The Doctor tucked the screwdriver back into his pocket then held out his hand to Rose. "And that would be our cue to bid you farewell."

"I don't know what to say," Greare muttered.

"Say that you'll explain everything to the village, make them understand that they have to stop cutting the stone," Rose replied.

"Yes, of course."

"That's settled then," the Doctor said. "Good luck in the election."

Without a glance back, he and Rose walked away.


Epilogue

The day was growing warm again. Sunlight reflected brightly from the pale stone, giving it an oddly lifelike glow. Rose stared at the plateau for a long moment then shook her head in wonder.

"Is Greare really gonna be able to stop them from causing any more pain?" she asked.

"I think he's been sufficiently convinced now," the Doctor replied. "Usually that sort of conviction is easy to pass on to others."

"Still, it's hard to believe."

The Time Lord's steps slowed as his thoughts sped. "Perhaps not so much. Do you remember my telling you about the Q'razalians, the culture that believes their spirits are released as pure energy that powers their sun?"

She nodded, suppressing a small shiver at the memory of their time in the cavern.

"Well, perhaps these stones—these living, feeling, beautiful beings—were created from the energy of other sentient creatures."

"You said you have equipment in the TARDIS. You gonna analyze them, find out exactly what they are?"

He sighed softly. "They've been through enough; I won't subject them to anything else. And really, I don't think it much matters what they are or where they came from."

Rose's eyebrows arched in surprise. "You're kidding. You don't want to figure them out? That's a first for you."

"Oh, I think I understand them well enough. I think you do, too."

"What d'you mean?"

He stopped walking and turned to face her. "You were a part of them for a few moments, just as I was. You felt what they are."

She closed her eyes, remembering the emotions that had flooded her as she passed through the stone. "Yeah, I did."

His eyes moved past her face to focus on the glittering stone above. "And I suspect that they came to understand us, too."

"Did they?"

"They saved your life," he said quietly. "They altered their physical structure to permit air to enter the chamber, and I suspect that was no easy feat for them."

"No," she replied softly. "Couldn't've been."

"I think, too, that they even transferred some of their energy to you, because that's the only explanation I can come up with for the incredible recovery you made."

A fleeting shadow of despair flickered across his face.

Rose tried to lighten the moment. "Yep, that's me… incredible little ape."

He did not respond. He simply reached for her hand again and led her back to the TARDIS. He reached around the police box to unlock the door then swung his body inside. Once his feet were firmly on the floor, he extended his hand to her.

"Come on, Rose, and watch your step. It's a long way down."

She lifted her arm toward him but stopped for a few seconds to take one final look around.

"Living stone," she murmured. "I never imagined… There's so much that I never imagined."

She felt his fingers wrap around her hand and looked up to see his head poking out of the TARDIS. He was smiling, a mixture of admiration and approbation on his face.

"That's what it's all about, Rose," he said.

She allowed him to pull her securely into the ship and closed the door behind herself.

The dematerialization process was quiet this time round with scarcely a vibration. Within a few moments the cliff was bare. But to all eyes who would view it in the future it was exquisitely beautiful, unspeakably majestic, and worthy of nothing less than reverence.