Turlough followed Nyssa through the dim tunnel for several minutes. He felt clammy, and a murky anxiety was beginning to gnaw at him. He should have found a way to return to the TARDIS, even if it meant leaving Nyssa behind. Now he was wandering about beneath the earth, stumbling toward potential dangers—
"Turlough?" Nyssa called softly.
He blinked and tried to see up ahead. The glow from the insect's antennae provided scant illumination, and he had been walking through near darkness for some time. However, the light seemed brighter now, and he could make out Nyssa standing a few meters ahead. She still held the egg, vaguely luminescent in the grey light.
"Why have you stopped?" he asked, rapidly approaching her.
Nyssa was smiling. She cocked her head to the side, saying, "Look."
Turlough saw that this tunnel, like the previous one, opened up into a larger area. It was not a cavern by any means; indeed, it was only a few meters wide and of similar height. However, it was less cramped than the tunnel, and it was lit by a small pile of eggs against the wall. Nyssa stepped forward, following the insect, and set the egg she held on the pile. The insect waggled its antennae then turned back toward the tunnel.
"They need our help," Nyssa said to Turlough.
"With what?" he asked, searching for any other tunnels that might lead him back to the surface. There appeared to be an opening at the back of the chamber, but he could not see it clearly enough to know whether is was a tunnel.
"They want to move the eggs into here," she responded, already beginning to follow the insect toward the tunnel.
"Why would they do that?" Turlough was till trying to determine what the other opening was. He had stepped toward it and now thrust his arm inside. He felt a space about one meter high and one meter wide, and as he moved his wrist and elbow along the base of it, he could tell quite clearly that it slanted upward. He leaned inside. Peering up, he was almost certain that he saw a faint dot of light.
"I think the eggs are safer in here. Come on!" Nyssa urged.
Turlough quickly pulled his head and shoulders out of the tunnel. "I think I'll just wait here."
"No, Turlough, they need your help, too." She had stepped back into the cavern. "What are you doing over there?" she asked.
"I can't really help," he said, holding up his hands. "I'd probably just drop the eggs anyway, and I'm sure they wouldn't like that very much."
"The eggs are light. I can set them in your hands, and you'll only have to keep your palms up to hold them."
Turlough pressed his back against the tunnel opening. He was almost certain that he could feel a slight draft.
Nyssa watched his movement. "What's the matter?" she asked. "Why don't you want to help with the eggs?"
"Because it's not our problem," he said with some exasperation. "Look, Nyssa, we need to get out of here and back to the TARDIS before this part of the planet blows."
Nyssa thought for a moment. "If there is a volcanic eruption, we're actually much safer down here than we'd be waiting in the TARDIS."
"But we wouldn't be waiting in the TARDIS! Don't you see that we have to get away from here? We don't have time—"
"For what?" Now Nyssa's soft voice had grown stronger. "For helping these insects save their offspring and possibly preserve their species on this planet?"
"Among other things," Turlough muttered.
"You mean finding the Doctor." Nyssa's expression had changed. Turlough could see the hurt creeping into her countenance even in the wan light.
"I don't want to leave him here any more than you do," he lied, "but I don't think we have a choice."
He forced a note of regret into his tone.
Nyssa placed her hand on Turlough's arm. "Let's help move these eggs as quickly as we can. I don't think the insects will permit us to leave until we've done that, but perhaps when we've finished we can go. Come on." She turned, still holding his arm gently, and began to walk.
He thought of resisting, of pushing her away and scrambling into the tunnel he had found, but instead he moved along beside her. It would be better not to cause a commotion. He would wait until they had transferred a few eggs then try to arrange to have a minute alone in this room. By the time Nyssa discovered that he had vanished, he would be far enough into the tunnel to make an escape and return to the TARDIS.
Tegan hobbled along beside the Doctor toward the mound behind the structures. After she had been knocked to the ground, the Doctor had been herded toward her. The insects had surrounded them, jaws snapping menacingly to prevent any further attempts at flight. Tegan had been released relatively unharmed, although she was certain that the insect's feet had scratched her shoulders and hips. Her knee had not fared well in her fall, either. She had felt a wave of dizziness when the Doctor helped her to stand; pain coursed through her entire leg.
Leaning against the Time Lord, Tegan now tried to hop on one foot, but this was ineffectual. When she stumbled and began to fall, the insects darted toward her, prodding her with their antennae.
"Ow!" she cried with some indignation. "Watch where you poke those things!" She tried to swat the offending appendages away from her hip and thigh.
The Doctor reached for her arm and drew her upright. "It's probably best not to antagonize them," he cautioned.
"But they're sticking me!" Tegan protested.
"They seem to want us to keep moving," he said.
"I'm doing the best I can," she grumbled.
He nodded. "I know that you are. However, I think the time has come for me to provide you with greater assistance." Swiftly he slipped his arm around her back then bent to place his other arm behind her thighs. He straightened, lifting her off of the ground and holding her securely against his chest.
Tegan opened her mouth to object his actions, but was instantly aware that the throbbing in her knee had subsided somewhat now that her leg was slightly elevated. "Thanks," she murmured.
He nodded in acknowledgement.
"Where are they taking us?" she asked, watching as the Doctor's long steps carried them forward.
"They seem to be leading us back to the mound where I found you."
"You said that they chased you after you left. Were they mad that you took me?"
"I don't know, Tegan. I can't communicate with them."
"I guess they don't really have any language, do they?"
"Not a spoken one. They seem able to communicate at some level with each other, but I suspect it is based on body movement and perhaps hormonal secretion."
"So we can't talk to them?"
"Can't? Oh, I think we're quite capable to talking to them, but they won't be able to understand us."
Despite her discomfort and anxiety, Tegan rolled her eyes. "Doctor," she said after a moment, "you said you found me in a web."
"Yes. You saw a part of it yourself."
She nodded, remembering the frightening feeling of being wrapped completely in the web, unable to move on her own. She swallowed. "And what do spiders to with the insects that fall or fly into their webs?"
"Tegan, I've already told you that these are not arachnids—"
"Just answer the question!"
He sighed. "I'm sure you are well aware that most spiders catch their prey in their webs."
"And their prey becomes their dinner, right?"
"Yes, Tegan, it does."
He felt Tegan's arm tighten over his shoulder, and a small shiver seemed to run through her entire body. "I think I know what they're planning to do with us."
The Doctor's expression reflected no surprise. With sudden comprehension, Tegan realized that he had guessed the insects' intent some time ago.
"We can't just sit by and let them eat us!" she cried.
"We don't seem to have much choice in the matter," he said rather defeatedly.
"But Doctor!" she exclaimed, "we have to do something!"
"The best thing we can do now is to remain calm."
"Remain calm? Just sit back and relax while they prepare to make a meal out of us?" she squawked.
Several of the insects moved closer, and two reared up on either side of the Doctor.
"Tegan," he said evenly, "keep your voice down. Our best chance for escape will be for them to let down their guard. They won't do that if you or I seem to present any threat to them."
The insects backed away slightly. The group was quite near the mound now. Two insects moved slowly toward the vent, lowering their heads and resting their antennae on the ground.
"What are they doing now?" Tegan asked in a hoarse whisper.
"Hmm," the Doctor replied, watching their captors for a moment. "I believe that they are checking to be certain that the geyser won't erupt in the very near future."
"Because they hate the water," Tegan finished.
"Yes."
"But Doctor, that doesn't make any sense! They live down there in the geyser yet they can't stand the water."
"Apparently they are able to determine when the geyser will erupt. I suspect that they enter and exit the vent only when there is no risk of an immediate eruption. Once inside their webs, they are fully protected—from both the geyser and from other insects."
"That's a pretty weird system, if you ask me."
The Doctor's right eyebrow twitched upward. "Actually it seems to serve them rather well."
The insects at the vent lifted their heads then quickly skittered down into the fissure. The group around the Doctor and Tegan closed in, prodding at the Doctor with their antennae. He walked forward, stopping at the edge of the vent.
The insects continued to poke him, now nudging his hips and back with their heads.
"Doctor?" Tegan questioned, her voice rising in alarm.
"Hang on, Tegan," he said.
"Hang on? Why?"
"Because," he said, a slight rise in his voice belying his exterior calm, "it seems that I have to jump."
Four insects rammed their heads against his back. His feet teetered on the edge of the fissure for several seconds, but a final thump from the insects pushed him forward. Tegan shrieked as they plummeted into the darkness.
Nyssa had managed to fit five or six eggs in Turlough's upturned palms and forearms each time they returned to the nursery chamber. She had found that she could carry three of the spheres without risking harm to them. The second tunnel, they learned, was really quite short; they could move from one chamber to the other in just a few minutes. They had transferred nearly half of the eggs with considerable efficiency when Turlough finally found the opportunity to alter his pace somewhat naturally and enter the secondary chamber just as Nyssa was leaving.
Quickly he set the eggs by the wall then glanced back at the main entrance. Nyssa was nowhere in sight. The insects had allowed their visitors to work uninterrupted after the first few trips, seeming to realize that the work progressed faster when the humanoids moved alone through the tunnel.
Turlough hurried to the smaller tunnel, reaching inside with both arms. He looked up again to see the same pinprick of light in the distance. His heart quickened in anticipation as he pressed his arms into the base of the tunnel, swinging his legs up as he scooted forward. Movement was difficult without the voluntary control of his hands. He could not feel them as they pushed against the base of the tunnel. This made his progress awkward and slow. Still, he was in the tunnel now, moving upward toward the light. This tunnel sloped up at what he judged to be about a forty-five degree angle. He had to dig his feet into the packed earth to keep from sliding backward.
He did not know how far he had gone when he heard Nyssa's faint voice, muffled by the dirt all around him.
"Turlough?" She called his name several times.
He tried to move faster, but his feet slipped and he began to slide back. Firmly he dug his elbows into the dirt and willed his fingers to grip at the sides of the tunnel. He looked up. The light was closer, but it was still only a tiny speck. Its size did not seem to have increased despite the shortened distance. This observation made no sense to him.
"Turlough!" Nyssa's voice was clearer now. She must have found the tunnel and poked her head inside.
He scrabbled forward, toward the light above him. His head was tilted up to focus on the light, and his hands reached slightly upward in anticipation of the tunnel's slope. When a thrust of his feet failed to propel him forward, he was confused for a moment. The light was still ahead and above him, but his hands could not push forward anymore. Panic began to well in Turlough. He was trapped in this narrow, dark dirt tunnel.
He shut his eyes for a moment and forced himself to take a deep breath. It was so dark. If only he could see where he was going. He should have brought one of the eggs to light his way. He rolled over onto his hip in hopes of obtaining a different perspective. The crystal dug into his thigh.
He pressed his wrist against the sharp object. "Help me!" he cried. "Get me out of here!"
He glanced down at his pocket, hoping to see a glow, but the tunnel remained dark. "Come on," he pleaded, "I did what you wanted. I even let Tegan die. What more am I supposed to do?"
"Kill the Doctor." The words were spoken so suddenly that Turlough was unsure whether he had really heard them or simply remembered the Black Guardian's previous instructions.
"He's already dead! He can't have survived!" Turlough exclaimed. The air seemed to grow colder, and he felt sweat trickle down his forehead. "All right," he said, "I'll find him. I'll do it. Just get me out of here."
He felt another puff of cool air near his right shoulder. He moved his arm and, to his surprise, found that the tunnel did not continue upward. Instead, it veered off to the right. Looking up once again, he realized that the light shone through a small, deep hole that must lead to the surface. Perhaps it was a ventilation shaft, but it was only a few centimeters wide.
"Damn it!" Turlough spat, angry with himself for believing that he could reach the surface so easily. For a minute he lay in the tunnel fuming, anxiety building as he berated himself for his error in judgement. He would have to return to the secondary egg chamber. He could probably placate Nyssa with some well-chosen words and excuses about trying to find a way to the Doctor, but he was unsure about the effects of his temporary absence on the insects.
Another small rush of air brushed over his cheek. Turlough lay still, thinking. This air was cool and seemed fresher than the air in the tunnel. Perhaps this tunnel did indeed lead to an exit to the surface. With a surge of renewed hope and energy, Turlough crawled forward once again.
The seconds during which the Doctor and Tegan fell seemed interminable to the young Australian. She buried her face against the Time Lord as he hugged her to his chest more securely. She was certain that she felt both of his hearts accelerate during that short time. On her part, she was sure her own heart would jump from her throat.
Then they stopped falling. They did not crash into the rock or into the steaming water deep within the earth. They simply ceased falling. Tegan's breath caught. She remained tensely frozen against the Doctor in the darkness. She did not know how much time passed. It felt like hours, and she did not dare to breathe.
"Tegan!" The Doctor's voice penetrated the haze that seemed to surround her. "Tegan, you have to breathe." She felt his hand pressing against her chest.
She took a breath, finally, then exhaled. "We're still alive," she croaked.
"Yes, quite, at least for the moment. Keep breathing, please," he instructed.
Tegan complied, trying to regain her natural breathing pattern. After perhaps half a minute, she asked, "What happened?"
"I think the same thing that happened when you fell in here earlier today. We seem to have been caught in one of the webs."
Tegan realized that the hazy feeling was in fact quite tangible. As she moved her hand slightly, she could feel the stickiness: They were surrounded closely by the tightly woven webbing. Indeed, she could tell now that it was wrapped around her right shoulder, arm, and leg; her left side was still against the Doctor. The right side of her head, too, was pressed against the webbing.
"Great," Tegan muttered, "just when I get this gunk off of me I go and fall into it again."
"At least we know how to remove it now," the Doctor said in a helpful tone.
"Which would be useful if we weren't stuck down here in the middle of it!" Tegan lamented. "And it's toxic, too."
"The jumpsuit you're wearing will protect your skin, and the toxicity should be lessened if you can avoid getting the web in your mouth, nose, or eyes."
"Believe me, I'll try."
They remained quiet for a few moments. The Doctor seemed to be deep in thought. Tegan hoped that he was formulating a way to get out of the web and escape the geyser before they became the insects' supper.
Tegan tried to get her bearings. She knew that they were suspended in the web, and she gradually came to realize that it must be wrapped around the Doctor's back much as it adhered to her leg, arm, and shoulder. The web encased them as it had her earlier, but the small space between their bodies remained open. Moving her hands and feet slightly, she could tell that her left side was not covered in the webbing, and her face was free of it, too. She was very glad to discover this, recalling with a small start that the web had nearly suffocated her before. The Doctor's face was free as well, and he seemed to have some use of his hand.
"Well?" Tegan asked after several minutes of silence had elapsed.
"Hmm?" responded the Doctor, still pondering the situation.
"What's your plan?"
"My plan? Yes, I suppose I should try to think of something…" His voice trailed off distractedly.
"Doctor! You mean to tell me you haven't been trying to figure out a way out of this?"
"I'm sure that something will come to me."
"I hope so. And just what have you been thinking about in the meantime?"
"I've been considering what we might do once we are free of the web. Most likely we are several dozen meters below the vent opening. We will need some way to climb up."
"How did you get out before?"
"I had a rope."
"But no such luck now, right?"
"No. I'm afraid that our hasty departure precluded my gathering supplies. However," he paused, and she felt his hand brush against her chest. "Er, excuse me," he muttered. His fingers were still moving, but he seemed unable to shift his hand away from her body. "Tegan," he said finally, "would you mind reaching into my coat, the upper pocket near the lapel please, and retrieving the dissecting shears?"
"Dissecting shears?" she repeated.
"Yes. I did have the foresight to tuck them in my pocket."
Tegan immediately moved her hand to feel for the pocket. She found it with relative ease and removed the shears.
"Excellent!" the Doctor proclaimed when she pressed them into his hand. "Now we can begin to remove the web."
When she felt a poke at her shoulder, she thought for a moment that the Doctor was trying to cut the webbing. However, she realized that his hand could not move upward sufficiently for such a motion.
"Doctor," she said in a low voice.
She heard the snip of the shears near her hand. "Yes?" he asked absently.
She felt another distinct prod by her neck, then she felt the web pulling away. "I think they've beaten you to it," she said with some alarm.
"What?"
"They're tearing the web away. Can't you feel it?"
The Doctor paused. "Oh. Yes, I can."
"Do something!" she cried.
"And what would you suggest that I do?" His voice was irritatingly calm.
"I don't know!" she bawled. "But I don't want to be their next meal."
She was quite certain that at least one insect's sharp jaws scraped against her arm. Ruefully, she wondered if it was checking to see whether she required salt.
As Turlough continued crawling through the tunnel, he sensed that the air was freshening. This must be a sign that he would soon reach the surface. Yet he had also noticed that he was no longer moving upward. He felt that he was descending slightly now. This seemed odd to him, given the fresh air that surely lay just ahead.
He pushed forward, however. Perhaps the tunnel would open up on the side of a mountain or hill. He was anxious to be on the surface of the planet again. He resolved that he would return to the TARDIS and leave Beta 8 immediately. If the Doctor were still alive, stranding him would surely result in his death. He would have to leave Nyssa, too, of course. He tried not to think too much about this. She had been kind to him, and she trusted him… He shook his head and focused his efforts on crawling faster.
After a time, the tunnel began to widen. Up ahead, not too far, Turlough saw light. It was a dull light, which disappointed him at first. But he realized that night might have fallen on the surface of the planet. He did not know how long he had been underground. Perhaps he would emerge in the twilight. That would make finding the TARDIS more difficult, but he was determined and knew that he would manage somehow.
Turlough's legs and shoulders ached from the unaccustomed movements required to crawl through the tunnel. He was growing fatigued, and he realized that he was terribly hungry. He pushed himself to move faster as he neared the light.
Now he could hear noises. He stopped moving for a moment to listen. There was rustling, which must mean leaves. He thought that he would be very glad to see a tree or two. Indeed, he would be very glad to see anything at all other than the darkness that had surrounded him. The tunnel was now tall enough for him to stand, although he had to stoop to avoid hitting his head. But it felt good to walk again and to give his arms a rest.
The light was very near, and the rustling was more audible. Turlough hurried ahead, seeing clearly that the tunnel ended soon.
"Damn it!" he spat as he stepped out of the tunnel. He stood in a large chamber, clearly deep inside the earth. The light he had seen was the glow from at least twenty insects' antennae. He must have gone in a loop, ending up back where he had started. His eyes moved around the chamber, searching for Nyssa, but all he saw were the insects as they began shuffling toward him.
Within a few minutes the insects tore the webbing off the Doctor and Tegan. Both were surprised to find that the creatures' antennae emitted a vague luminescence, permitting them to see that they were suspended on a web that stretched across the edge of the shaft into which they had fallen. They could discern the rocky walls of the shaft, and behind them they could see a small opening. As soon as the web had been removed, the three insects that surrounded them closed in.
Tegan gripped the Doctor's hand; he still held her against his chest, though he had dropped her legs. She felt him squeeze her fingers reassuringly.
"What now?" she whispered to him.
"I don't know," he replied, looking around carefully and watching the insects' movements.
The insects had stood upon their back legs to permit their forelegs to assist in the removal of the web. Now, however, they had dropped back down so that all six legs rested on the web. One insect thrust its head toward the Doctor's back, nudging gently.
"I think it wants me to move," he said.
"Move? Where? To the dining area so that it can devour you?"
The Doctor shook his head. "Always so negative, Tegan, expecting the worst."
"And what else should I expect?" she lamented.
The insect prodded the Doctor again, and he took a step forward. However, he stumbled, finding it difficult to balance on the web, which was not particularly taut. Tegan reached for his arm to steady him, but she foundered, too, falling onto her knees with a hiss of pain.
The insects moved forward, reaching for her with their front legs. With a gasp she felt them lift her and drag her toward the hole in the side of the shaft.
"Doctor!" she cried. "Help!" She twisted her head to look at her companion and found that he was being led in a similar manner just behind her. He gave her a small smile, but it did little to calm her.
In a few moments Tegan felt solid rock beneath her feet. The insects released her abruptly then stepped further inside the hole. Their antennae provided sufficient light for Tegan to see that she was in a tunnel. It was not quite tall enough to permit her to stand, so she remained in the crouched position in which the insects had left her. The Doctor was deposited at her side a few seconds later. The insects that had brought him moved back toward the tunnel entrance then bobbed their heads at the humanoids.
"They seem to want us to go into the tunnel with them," said the Time Lord.
"And we don't seem to have much choice," Tegan commented.
"No, we don't. Come along then." He began moving forward, bent over to avoid hitting his head on the roof of the passageway.
Tegan rose, keeping her head down, and hobbled along in front of him. "Where do you think they're taking us?" she asked.
"I don't know," he replied evenly. "But I imagine we'll find out soon enough."
"I still think it's to their dining hall," she muttered, following the gentle glow just ahead.
Turlough had thought of retreating back into the tunnel, but one of the insects had skittered quickly to the entrance, blocking him. He stepped sideways, toward the wall of the chamber, as they pressed toward him. Their antennae bobbed, and several poked him lightly with the sensitive appendages.
"Look," he said, lifting his hands defensively, "I didn't mean to cause any problems. I was looking for a shorter way back to the egg chamber. I'll help carry the eggs now. Just show me where they are—"
The insects tilted their heads and seemed to study him with their large, complex eyes. One rested an antenna on his bandaged hand then stepped back and lifted its head quickly. The other insects responded to this movement, behaving similarly.
As Turlough watched them, waiting for them to attack him, he noticed that they looked slightly different than the insects who had shown him their eggs. These were somewhat smaller, and they did not have the green and purple stripes on their backs that he had seen on the others; their wings were duller in color. He wondered if these were perhaps the females. If so, he hoped that they might be less aggressive than the males. After all, he had not threatened them in any way.
The insects closest to him kept their heads up, antennae twitching toward Turlough. They remained still for nearly a minute, then abruptly the one that had touched his hand stepped forward, raising its front leg toward Turlough.
"Please," he said, "just let me go. I'm not here to hurt you."
The insect tilted its head quizzically and stared at him for a moment, then it reared up and opened its mouth. Turlough saw the jagged edges of its jaw and instinctively tried to back away. However, the wall was behind him, and he could move no further. The insects on either side of him had flanked him, preventing movement to the side. The insect before him thrust its head toward his hand, grasping Turlough's wrist in its jaw.
"No!" he pleaded, "please! Let me go—"
The insect clearly did not understand his words. It pressed its midlegs against his chest, holding him securely against the wall as it closed its jaws over his hand.
