CHAPTER 10
IN A CELL WITH...?
The Doctor swallowed hard, trying to decide if he should panic now or wait for a more suitable time. The blob also seemed to react to the sudden confrontation, quivering violently and then twisting and changing from a formless mass to a supine semi-humanoid form with arm- and leg-like appendages.
The Doctor cautiously drew nearer, wondering what manner of creature he had been imprisoned with. Colonel Payne had been the one to give his escort their orders, but he had been unable to hear what was said. Was it possible, despite the Master's orders, the mercenary had taken it upon himself to have him killed anyway?
The creature suddenly started to glow fiercely and the Doctor stopped short. He watched uneasily as his unexpected cellmate drew itself back into a formless lump.
After several minutes of this apparent standoff, the Doctor said softly, "Well, it's your move, old chap."
To his utter astonishment, there was a reply. The words were scarcely above a whisper and seemed to have been spoken with great effort, but they were very distinctly, "Help me."
The stunned Time Lord recovered himself quickly, mentally kicking himself for having assumed the worst. As he crossed the room, he noticed a table set against the wall that had an oil lamp upon it. Grateful for a better source of light, he lighted the lamp before continuing to the shifting mass in the corner.
"Help me…please…" the creature pleaded painfully as the Doctor knelt down beside it.
"How can I help you? Are you in pain?"
The form changed again, glowing fiercely and then twisting and flattening out as it went from a shapeless mass to semi-humanoid again. This operation was apparently very painful, the entity letting out a low groan as the contortions took place. An arm-like appendage reached out feebly in the Doctor's direction, but was unable to touch him. A second effort proved successful catching hold of his wrist.
"I'm…dying," it managed finally, clinging to the Time Lord for comfort. The flesh was cold and clammy and the Doctor had to fight the urge to pull free from the grasp of the poor, pathetic creature.
"Breakdown…" it struggled to say, "cohesion…breakdown." Unable to hold off the writhing movements any longer, the entity succumbed once again, releasing its grip on the Doctor who wondered just how close to death this creature actually was as another painful moan issued forth.
"I'm sorry. I don't understand," he said helplessly.
Settling down, the being (as the Doctor decided he would think of it) tried again and was able to communicate the words; table, bag, and brown bottle. Looking around the bare cell, the Doctor saw a bag sitting in a heap under the table from which he had taken the lamp. Inside he found several brown bottles.
"Which one?"
"Altrystizine. Bonding agent," came the forced reply. "Massive…injection. Hurry, please!"
There was a note of urgency that had not been there before and the Doctor sensed the end was very near. Digging into the pouch, he found a hypodermic pack and tore it open, filling the syringe with what he hoped was the correct dosage. He returned to the semi-humanoid being in the corner and knelt down. Before he could ask where to make the injection, an arm-like appendage presented itself. Mentally crossing his fingers, he injected the medication into the proffered limb.
The Time Lord had not even finished when the being said, "Another."
The Doctor hesitated. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," came the labored reply. "Give me…all."
Although filled with misgivings, the Doctor did as instructed, injecting the remaining contents of the bottle into the "arm" of the dying creature.
"Thank-you," the entity said gratefully, adding startlingly, "Doctor."
The Doctor's mouth dropped open. "How...did you know my—?" Before he could complete his question, the creature drew itself into a ball and convulsed violently, glowing brightly and then going completely dark. It writhed and twisted to such a degree that the Doctor feared he had only succeeding in killing not curing the already dying being. It writhed a moment longer and then flattened out into a semi-humanoid form, only this time, it was more distinctly human in appearance. The arms had hands and then fingers. The legs had feet, and the head was developing vague facial features. The form still had no color, but it was very definitely humanoid.
The being suddenly thrashed even more violently, hands reaching out blindly, legs kicking, the body arching and twisting as if it were fighting off an unseen attacker. The whole time it made sounds as if in the most excruciating pain. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the thrashing ceased and the entity fell limply back onto the mat, going completely still.
The Doctor was both distressed and spellbound by the amazing metamorphosis. Since he could do little more than watch, he took a seat on the floor close by. The entity shivered and then drew itself into a fetal position before going deathly still. It was only then that the Doctor became aware of the chill in the air inside the damp prison cell and he removed his coat, placing it over the being who was either unconscious or unable to communicate any longer.
The Time Lord studied the fascinating incarnation before him, reasoning the changes were turning themselves inward. This was immediately verified as the extraordinary being started to breathe visibly. The Doctor found a weak, steady pulse, and even while he was holding it, the arm became warm in his hand. Color started to come to the limbs. Hair took shape and darkened. Fingernails appeared, and the violent, and apparently painful, thrashing stopped altogether.
The Doctor reasoned the person taking shape before his very eyes was very likely in some sort of therapeutic coma induced by the medication. Not knowing how long the entire transformation would take, he settled back to wait.
The room at the far end of the Master's lab had been converted into an office, which he used as his base of operations. It contained a desk, a chair, a file cabinet, and a table stacked with papers, most of which were covered with notes and calculations. He was pouring over one such stack of papers when Payne appeared in the doorway, his face grave.
"Master," the Colonel said darkly, "my men have come across another problem."
Several hours had past from when the Doctor administered the injection to when the young man who now lay upon the mat finally opened his eyes. His hands were in front of his face and he stared at them in mute astonishment, touching his face and hair, scarcely believing he was still alive.
It was only just dawn and a small amount of light was coming through the cell window, mingling with the glow of the still burning oil lamp. From his position on the floor, the newly formed being was unable to see the Doctor, who had fallen asleep against the wall just beside him. He tried to rise, only to find he didn't have the strength and dropped back to the mat. It was only then that he noticed the coat that was covering him and remembered its owner.
"Doctor?" he ventured quietly. "Doctor, are you still here?"
The Doctor awoke with a start, sitting up quickly and looming unexpectedly over the prostrate youth, who shrank back fearfully, covering his head with his hands.
"There's no need to be frightened," the Time Lord said mildly. "I'm not going to harm you."
"Thank goodness for that," came the relieved reply as the young man struggled to sit up. The Doctor helped him up, receiving yet another shock when the boy looked up at him.
It was Jason.