As the last of the ore was loaded into the TARDIS, one of the screens on the console emitted a sharp beep. The Doctor hurried to it, scrutinizing the information before him. Quickly he typed in several commands, then he watched the screen again. He stood, hands resting on the console, head bent slightly forward in deep thought.
"No," he muttered, "that's not it."
Turlough returned from the interior, where he had placed the rocks in the solution the Doctor had prepared. "How long will it take to extract the molybdenum?" he asked.
The Doctor did not respond, so Turlough said, "Doctor."
The Time Lord looked up. "Yes, Turlough?"
"How long until the molybdenum is ready for use?"
The Doctor waved a hand absently. "Oh, a few hours."
Turlough went toward the door to retrieve the last chunk of ore; the others were piled along the wall. He bent to lift the rock then straightened with a wheeze. He coughed and stumbled back.
"The door, Doctor," he gasped.
The Doctor looked up and quickly pulled the lever which shut the door. Turlough dropped the rock into the pile then stood with a hand to his chest.
"You'll have to avoid the atmosphere entirely," the Doctor said, walking toward him.
Turlough nodded. "Couldn't-- agree-- more," he panted out.
"You should remain in your room until we've left here so that--" the Doctor paused, then studied Turlough's face for a moment. "Of course!" he exclaimed. "The atmosphere -- dimythenium 7."
"Doctor?" Turlough wheezed. "What are you talking about?"
"Turlough," said the Doctor gleefully, "your asthma attack may have just saved an entire planet!"
-----------------
Tegan shut her eyes. She remembered, then, the plan she had made as Vandak dragged her toward the public house the day before.
She forced herself to lie quite still, watching him with large, frightened eyes. He eased his hand away from her throat, saying, "Try to scream and I'll choke you."
He moved his hand to the hem of her sweater, touching the soft fabric for a moment before grasping it and yanking it upward. Tegan's arm moved slowly away from the bed toward the table when Vandak's fingers dug more deeply into her thigh. He pulled her leg sideways.
She swallowed; her eyes darted toward the table. The candle was only inches from her fingers. Her hand stretched out, fingers brushing the flat rock on which the candle rested in a hunk of wax.
As Vandak's hand grabbed the edge of her skirt, she grasped the rock and swung the candle toward him. The rock struck his shoulder, and the flame swept against his long, matted hair. Tegan saw the candlelight flicker. Silently she begged that the flame would not be extinguished.
Vandak turned to look at his shoulder, momentarily confused about what had hit him. Tegan thrust the candle toward his face; the edge of his beard smoked. He slapped at it with his right hand, pinning Tegan's throat with his left. He was livid, and his hand seemed to crush her. She could not breathe. Still she held the candle firmly. It was her only hope.
Vandak cursed at her and knocked the candle out of her hand. It rolled to the floor; a small curl of smoke rose lazily up toward the ceiling. Tegan felt her eyes fill with tears.
Vandak was shouting at her, but she could not understand what he said. A swishing sound swirled about her ears, and the room was beginning to appear foggy. Tegan's mind seemed to wander, taking her back to the day she had anticipated beginning her airline career. She saw herself dressing in her uniform that morning, then several days before during a training session. Emergency procedures... oxygen masks dropping down-- she could use one of those now... surly passengers had to be placated, but what if they grew violent... basic self- defense procedures...
Suddenly Tegan lay very still. She ceased struggling to breathe. Vandak looked down at her, loosening his hold on her neck. He wondered if she was dead. He did not care; he would still have her. He squatted back on the bed and reached for the fastening on his pants.
Through half-closed lids, Tegan watched him. When he began to lower his pants, she took one deep breath and thrust her knee upward. She felt it connect in an oddly solid yet yielding way. Vandak groaned and rocked back, pressing his hands to his groin.
Tegan pulled her legs back quickly and swung them over the edge of the bed. She stood, frantically searching for something to use as a weapon. With immense relief, she saw that the candle wick still burned. She bent for it, her ribs exploding in pain, causing her to fall to her knees. She grasped the candle and crawled forward to hold it to the leg of Vandak's pants. He turned his head to look at her through glazed eyes.
"You're dead," he spat through clenched teeth. His massive hand reached out for her, grabbing her hair and dragging her forward across the floor.
With every ounce of her faltering strength, Tegan screamed.
-----------------
"How can an asthma attack save a planet?" Turlough asked the Doctor with considerable confusion.
"Well, it's not the attack per se that will save this planet. Rather, it's the causative factor. Recall that I told you about dimythenium 7, the element present here that triggered your attack. The Pnorueleans are at a stage of technological development in which their weapon of choice would most likely be thermonuclear. Such a weapon gains its destructive power by converting matter into energy when pairs of particular hydrogen nuclei combine to form a single nucleus."
Turlough nodded, but his eyes wandered to the window. He could see the men walking slowly away, talking and looking back at the TARDIS.
The Doctor continued, "If something were to prohibit these pairs of nuclei from combining, the weapon would be rendered harmless. Dimythenium 7 is one of the more fascinating elements. One of its unique properties is that it prevents certain atoms from bonding. This is why it caused your bronchial tubes to constrict--"
"Doctor," interjected Turlough, his gaze focused on the window, "there's something going on--"
"Really, Turlough, I'd think you'd be more interested in this," the Doctor scolded.
"Oh, I am, but look."
He pointed out the window. The men had begun to run. They hurried in the direction of the public house.
"Oh dear," the Doctor said, already reaching for the lever to open the door. "Stay here," he told Turlough as he rushed out of the TARDIS.
In the public house, Vandak held Tegan by the hair. Her head was bent painfully to the side. The man's face was purple from rage and pain. She felt his hand shaking. She reached out, trying to push his arm away, but he simply jerked her head sideways. Dizziness surged through her, and the room seemed to sparkle for a moment.
She saw something flash, and realized with horror that Vandak had another knife. She twisted again, but he held her firmly and flung her to the ground. She heard her breath leave her lungs with a searing gasp when her side hit the floor. Tegan was stunned, blinking at the growing darkness.
She felt oddly warm. She wondered if that was the last sensation she would know before dying. She nearly smiled as she thought about how chilled she had felt for the last two days. How ironic that her body should create this phantom heat in her last moments. She could almost hear the Doctor explaining the sensation as a trick her brain was playing upon her--
Then she saw the flame. She blinked again. Vandak's leg was on fire. He yelled and stood, stomping his foot and swatting at the flame with his hands. In an instant, the flame leaped to the bed, and the dry hair on the pelt ignited immediately.
Tegan tried to catch her breath, but somehow the air did not seem to enter her lungs. She gulped and scrambled to sit. The room was rapidly filling with smoke. She began to crawl toward the door, but Vandak grabbed the edge of her skirt.
"No," she gasped, her voice barely audible. It was still difficult to breathe. She could feel the heat radiating from the flames very near her feet. She twisted her head to look back. Vandak held her firmly. The flame was inches from her toes.
She reached back and clawed at his hand, but his grip was like iron. Her makeshift boot began to smoke.
"Please," she begged, "let me go."
When the door burst open, Tegan was confused. Voices filled the room, assailing her hazy senses in a jumbled tumult. She heard someone say Vandak's name, and there was shouting. Her skirt was set free. Feet moved blurrily around her, then something closed about her arm, none too gently, and she was dragged across the floor toward the door.
She wrenched herself away from the grip and crawled into the hall, pounding her smoking boot on the wall.
She could move no further; she had to rest, to take a breath. She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes as she tentatively inhaled. Her chest hurt; indeed, her entire body hurt.
"Tegan!"
The familiar voice was nearby. She opened her eyes and squinted in the smoky, dim hallway.
She tried to say his name, but only a croak came out of her mouth. The Doctor bent before her and put his hands under her arms. He pulled her upward then drew her rapidly toward the open back door. She stumbled along with him, swallowing ineffectually at the fresh, cold air.
The Doctor led Tegan to the building next to the public house and eased her toward the ground. She sat with her back supported by the wall, still trying to inhale. He crouched next to her, one hand resting softly against her chest and the other on her shoulder.
"Small breaths, Tegan," he told her. "Is it the smoke or your ribs?"
She was confused by his question. "Wind-- knocked out of me," she gasped, forcing herself to inhale lightly.
The Doctor watched her, saying "good, good" when he saw that she had managed to breathe shallowly. After a minute or so, she was able to inhale with some normalcy. He bent his head to listen to the air entering and leaving her mouth, then nodded in satisfaction.
Now that she was breathing, his eyes moved over her body; he wondered if the flames had harmed her. He noted the charred boot and removed it from her foot. Fortunately she had not been burned, although the cuts on her sole still looked raw. The welts on her shins had darkened, and he could see several bruises beginning to form on her inner thigh, just above the hem of her skirt. The cut on her lip had reopened and left a streak of blood across her chin.
He saw marks on her throat, too. He touched them gently, feeling to be certain that no serious damage had been done to her windpipe. "Who did this?" he asked.
"Vandak," she rasped. "He came back."
The Doctor glanced down at her thigh again. "Tegan," he said hesitantly, "did Vandak hurt you in any other way?"
She followed his eyes and touched one of the bruises. "No, not really-- just your standard brutish man-handling."
Her attempt at humor did not amuse him. "Are you certain? I want you to tell me if he did."
She looked up at him. "Yes, I'm certain. He wanted to, though. He was going to kill me afterwards." Her voice was almost too calm.
"Oh Tegan," the Doctor said sadly. "I'm sorry that you had to go through that. I should have taken you back to the TARDIS immediately."
Tegan looked away, toward the public house. "I didn't let him," she said softly.
"What?"
"I fought back. I didn't let him do it." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard the strength in it.
"That's my Tegan."
His hand had remained on her shoulder. Now he felt her begin to shake and gave her a reassuring squeeze.
She did not speak; she merely watched the adjacent building. Smoke seeped from the cracks near the room where she had been.
After a few minutes, Gorrob emerged from the back of the public house. He saw Tegan and the Doctor and walked toward them. Tegan drew a deep breath and coughed.
"Vandak is dead," the leader said. His voice was harsh from the smoke.
"Is the fire contained?" asked the Doctor.
Gorrob nodded.
"Did you kill him?" asked Tegan.
"Yes," replied Gorrob. "That's the penalty for coming back here after exile. And he was trying to kill you. I regret that I didn't keep my word to you, Dock Turr. I didn't think Vandak would return--"
"But he did," said the Doctor, ire evident in his voice.
Tegan straightened her shoulders and looked up at Gorrob. "Why would you care if he was trying to kill me? I'm just a woman."
"Tee-gan, I gave my word that I would keep you safe, and we don't like it when our women are killed.."
"But you don't care if you hurt them?"
The Doctor quickly interceded. "Tegan, we'll discuss this later. Right now we have to get back to the TARDIS. You need to rest and recover, and I have some rather pressing work to do." He bent, preparing to lift her into his arms.
"No," she said with a cough, "I can walk."
He extended a hand and helped her upward. He wanted to ask her if she was certain about walking; she tottered once on her feet. But her expression was determined, so he simply put his arm around her shoulders as they walked away.
-----------------
Turlough had been too curious about the commotion in the village to go to his room. He had watched through the window as the men entered the public house. He had seen smoke puffing up from the building. He had not, however, seen the Doctor and Tegan, as his view encompassed only one side of the house. When the door to the TARDIS opened and they stepped inside, Turlough spun around.
"Tegan!" he exclaimed in surprise. "What happened?"
"What didn't happen," she responded dryly before a cough escaped her.
"Are you all right?" Turlough asked.
"She will be soon," said the Doctor. "Come along," he prompted, guiding her toward the hallway. She limped beside him; her brief surge of energy was waning rapidly.
He led her to her bed then hurried away. Tegan sat down, amazed by the softness of her mattress and the smoothness of the quilt. She ran her palm over the cotton pillow; it felt luxurious. She glanced at her hand. It was filthy, as was the rest of her skin and clothing. She wondered if she could muster the strength required to take a shower. No, that would require standing, and she preferred not to do that for a time. Perhaps a bath...
When the Doctor returned, Tegan's head had fallen forward onto her chest.
He lifted her legs onto the bed and settled her head against the pillow. "Tegan," he urged, "stay with me for just a few minutes more."
"Doctor?" she asked, momentarily disoriented. She lifted her shoulders then wrapped her arm around her ribs with an exclamation of pain as she fell back to the pillow.
"Remain still for a little while," the Doctor cautioned, elevating her head, "and drink this."
He held a cup of cool liquid to her lips. She swallowed; at first it seemed to burn her raw throat, but after several sips the fluid felt soothing.
When she had finished the cup, the Doctor set it on the night table then took something in his hand and lifted it toward Tegan. She saw an object that reminded her of the sonic screwdriver, only on a larger scale. With a touch of his thumb, it emitted a low sound and a small flood of greenish light.
"It's been a while since I used this," he said. "Fortunately the power still works. Here we go..."
He held the object above her injured ribs saying, "Try not to move." The light seemed to pulsate against her sweater.
Tegan felt a slight vibration in her torso then a warmth spreading through her ribcage. The persistent ache was diminishing, she realized. After perhaps a minute the Doctor switched off the small machine and set it on the nightstand.
"How do your ribs feel now?" he asked.
"Better," she said, "much better."
He nodded and a smiled played at his lips. "They're nearly healed now. Within twenty-four hours they'll be as good as new. We'll leave the bandage on for a while longer, just to keep everything in place."
"What is that thing?" she asked, glancing at the tool.
"Ah, this is a Gallifreyan device -- I'm afraid its name doesn't translate easily to English."
As he spoke, he pulled a packet of antiseptic cloths from his pocket and removed one. "It works by sending a concentrated beam of energy to the bones; this beam excites the molecules toward rapid movement and--"
"Ow!" Tegan turned her head away from the sting of the cloth he attempted to wipe over her bloodied lip.
Undeterred, the Doctor held her chin and dabbed at the cut, squinting down at it as he worked. "As I was saying, at a molecular level--"
"Doesn't it work on split lips?" she interjected.
"No," he replied, "only on broken bones. The hyper-movement of the molecules results in a rapid cell regeneration, which leads to fusing of the fracture and..."
His voice seemed to drift away as Tegan's eyelids grew heavier. By the time he had finished his explanation, she was fast asleep.
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