CHAPTER 9

THE SEARCH

The Master had been to the ball, come back and was working at the computer console when Colonel Payne finally returned to the lab, a smug expression on his face.

"Now, if you've quite finished indulging yourself," the Time Lord said sarcastically, "perhaps we can get on with the task at hand. There's still a great deal more to be done."

Payne merely grinned. He had been enjoying himself immensely, savoring every minute of his revenge, and was not about to let this condescending Time Lord spoil it so soon after he'd finished. "Did you have a good time at the ball, my Lord Masters?" he mocked as he went to his command desk.

The Master ground his teeth. "This laboratory must be completely dismantled, Colonel. I want no trace of its ever having existed. Do you think your men can handle that?"

In the detention area, the Doctor learned that there had been no accident and, therefore, Healer Jason had not been sent for. Now it was the Doctor's turn to start worrying. Who was the guard that had come to the suite? Who sent him? And why? These and dozens of other questions popped into the Time Lord's mind as he made his way from the detention area. He stopped to take stock of the situation, drawing a deep breath.

"You certainly have a lot of questions, Doctor," he said with a sigh. "It's unfortunate that you don't have any answers." He stared down at the floor, deep in thought. Then something about the floor caught his attention and he studied it more carefully. The corridor ahead of him was obviously no longer used. There was a thick layer of dust and dirt evenly settled upon it. Glancing back the way he had come, the Doctor saw the floor tracked with mud, dirty footprints and scuff marks. On closer inspection of the disused hallway, he could just make out some fresh footprints in the settled dust. His curiosity aroused, he followed the faint trail, eventually ending up at the Master's lab.

The door to the lab was slightly ajar and the Doctor could hear muffled voices coming from inside. He crept over to listen at the crack, feeling certain he heard the Master's voice in the muffled conversation. He was so intent upon hearing his enemy, he failed to hear the mercenary guardsmen who came quietly behind him. Drawing his weapon, the guard fired and the Time Lord crumpled to the ground.

Kyska returned to the ballroom but was no longer in the mood for dancing. She went over to the sitting area, choosing a seat in an isolated corner were she could think.

"There you are!" Anon exclaimed, bounding over to her. Seeing the expression on her face, he asked concernedly, "What's the matter?"

Kyska gave him a watery smile. She had been trying to do as the Doctor said and not worry. But he didn't know Jason the way she did and she was certain he hadn't taken her concerns seriously. After all, didn't he say she was overreacting? Then again…perhaps she was.

"Kyss?" Anon ventured when she did not answer. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe I'm just being silly."

"Never."

"It's Jason."

Anon rolled his eyes and groaned. He had dealt with the Guardian of the Krystovans before and it was not an experience he cared to repeat. It wasn't that Jason was a bad sort, really. In fact, he was rather nice, and Anon actually liked him. But he could be so overprotective where his cousins were concerned. His having called to Anon earlier was, the young man hoped, a good sign. Now he wasn't so sure.

Trying to keep the edge out of his voice, Anon asked, "What about him?"

"He's missing. At least…I think he's missing. Nobody's seen him since we arrived this morning." Looking up, she said, "You know how he is. He promised he'd be here, but I can't find him anywhere. And he hasn't left any messages. Not a word!" Kyska was on the verge of tears again and looked down at the handkerchief the Doctor had given her.

Anon was distressed by this seemingly sudden anxiety and took a seat beside her.

"The Doctor went to look for him," Kyska went on. "He said I shouldn't worry, but I can't! Oh, Anon, what am I going to do?" She burst into tears, falling into the arms of the bewildered young man, who held her a moment, not exactly sure what to do himself. Anon found himself wondering if Jason had staged the whole thing to give him time alone with Kyska. If so, he was being terribly cruel not to at least send an excuse, no matter how feeble. Looking at the distraught young woman beside him, Anon decided it was time to force the Guardian back into the light of day.

Taking Kyska's face in his hands, Anon said, "First, you need to stop crying. There's nothing that says we can't look too, now is there?" He then rose to his feet and held out a hand.

Kyska looked down at herself and then at her escort. "We can't go like this," she said practically.

Anon laughed. "Now you are being silly. We'll have to change first. Come on, let's go."

The Master was ranting to Colonel Payne when the Doctor came to his senses and he feigned unconsciousness in order to listen to what was being said. Chancing a quick peek through partially closed eyes, the Doctor discovered he was lying on a table in a lab of some sort, his hands having been bound in front of him. It soon became apparent his rival didn't have the slightest idea as to who he was, and Stinson, who was the only person who could identify him and connect him with Jason was, by some fortuitous happenstance, not present. The Doctor smiled inwardly, knowing how his enemy would react were he to learn his true identity.

"Who the devil is he?" the Master demanded. "And which one of your moronic minions let him get down this far in the first place?"

The Doctor decided to take his cue and moaned. "What happened?" he asked meekly.

Payne grabbed hold of him and yanked him up, snarling a half dozen questions at him. The Doctor groaned inwardly. How these military types loved to use intimidation, he thought wearily, deciding his best plan of action was to play dumb. He might even throw in a little cowardice for good measure, he thought devilishly.

The captive Time Lord shrank back, whimpering and hiding his face behind his bound hands. "Please, don't hurt me," he begged pitifully, giving what he believed to be an excellent performance as he babbled on.

The Master lost his patience, shoving the mercenary aside. "Colonel Payne, you're frightening him," he said reprovingly. He pulled his cowering prisoner's hands gently away from his face and began speaking to him in a low, hypnotic voice, much to the Doctor's disappointment. This was all so much child's play, he thought, and not very original, either. The hot and cold method was so trite and unimaginative. Quite unworthy of the Master. Even so, the Doctor played along, nodding his head slowly and answering dreamily at all the right places. When the interrogation was over, he was quite proud of himself.

The Master was equally proud of himself, have no idea that the entire interrogation was a sham.

"Now want?" Payne wanted to know, echoing the Doctor's very thoughts.

"Now...?" The Master considered a moment. "Now, nothing. He's nothing more than a petty criminal with even less brains than you have."

Payne gritted his teeth and let this remark pass. He drew his weapon, aiming it at the Doctor's head. "If he's of no use to us, then I'll dispose of him, too."

The captive Time Lord heard the energy gun powering up and tensed, ready to dive from the table the instant the mercenary fired. He calculated his chances of getting to the door were tipped slightly in his favor, as he would have the element of surprise on his side.

The Doctor never found out if his calculations were correct. At that moment, the Master intervened. "No, Colonel, not yet. He may be of some use to me later." He waved a hand as he headed to the far door, ordering, "Put him in a cell. I'll decide what to do with him when the time comes."

The Doctor was taken down to what he perceived to be the old dungeons, thinking that no matter how advanced a society became there always seemed to be the remnants of a dark past lurking in the shadows. His escorts stopped in front of a heavy metal door, one of the guards pulling it wide open while another roughly shoved him inside, sending him down to the floor. He turned just in time to see the door slammed shut, hearing a loud clank as the bolt was thrown into place. His bonds weren't very secure and before he even picked himself up off the floor, he had he escaped from them.

The darkened cell was illuminated only by the moonlight that came in through a small window set high in the wall, which made it difficult for the Doctor to see around himself. He stood silently in the darkness, waiting for his eyes to become accustomed to the gloom. The eerie silence was broken when he thought he heard some movement and he listened more closely, hearing a distinct rustling sound from across the room. He began searching his pockets for a better source of light, wondering absently if he might be keeping company with a family of rats as he pulled a torch from one of his capacious pockets. The Doctor turned its beam in the direction of the sound, expecting to see nothing more than a rodent or two. What he did see almost caused him to drop the torch in alarm. The light came to rest on what can only be described as a formless, colorless blob sitting in the center of a mat in the far corner of the room.