CHAPTER 22

POWER AND DESTRUCTION

A split second before Brogan fired, Jason reached for the Epsilon circuit he had been holding when shot. It had rolled away when he fell and had apparently been forgotten by all save himself. He could actually feel the power radiating from it and knew from legends that the power could be directed, but wasn't sure if he could control it. For the Doctor's sake he knew he had to try and wound a tendril around the sphere, a burst of energy being released the instant he touched it. A protective barrier suddenly appeared in front of the astonished Time Lord, deflecting the bullet harmlessly aside. Then, just as Jason feared, he somehow lost control.

The sheet of energy abruptly wrapped itself around the horrified High Priest, who flailed wildly inside the glowing sphere, screaming in agony as he experienced the suffering he had inflicted on his countless victims during his long and vicious carrier. As the ball closed in, the intensity increased. He pleaded for mercy between his screams of torment, but there was no mercy shown to the merciless High Priest. With a final bloodcurdling shriek that can only be described as a cry of the damned Brogan vanished into oblivion.

Stunned and horrified by what he'd just witnessed the Doctor sat staring at the spot where the High Priest had been standing. There was no trace of him save for his staff.

"Doctor…" Jason gasped out painfully, bringing the shocked Time Lord back to his senses. "The power source. Destroy it."

"With pleasure," the Doctor muttered, sliding to his feet and crossing to the main control board. Brogan had installed all but two of the stone-like balls into their sockets, and the Doctor proceeded to pull them out again. He looked at the orb in his hand in uncertainty, throwing an inquiring look over at his injured companion.

"Just…smash them," Jason instructed in response to the unspoken question. "They'll…shatter like…glass."

The Doctor was, to say the least, dubious. The spheres felt like solid rock. Dashing the first to the floor, he was amazed when it shattered into hundreds of glistening and irreparable bits. Encouraged, he dashed the remaining circuits to the floor, reasoning that any large pieces could be smashed a second time once he finished.

All this noise had quite naturally attracted the attention of those positioned outside. Johnson had assumed the screams to have been from the Doctor, paying them no mind save for his own twisted delight in the suffering of others. It wasn't until he heard Brogan pleading for mercy that he realized something was seriously amiss. He then discovered his gun was missing and cursed himself when he realized he had left it on the console inside the computer room.

Collecting the others, Johnson stormed the Temple just as the Doctor smashed the last sphere from the console. For a single frozen moment, no one moved. Then a growl started deep in Johnson's throat. He had been Brogan's right-hand man for more years than he cared to remember. Together they had left a trail of havoc and carnage throughout the star system, eventually coming to Teggell in search of the ultimate weapon and its legendary power source. After three years of searching, and on the very eve of gaining control, it had all been snatched away. Destroyed by this interfering stranger. Now nothing was left but thousands of useless fragments.

Picking up a handful of gleaming pieces, Johnson shook his fist. "You're a dead man, Doctor!" he thundered, scattering the shards back onto the floor where they turned to dust. "I'm going to break you into a hundred pieces!"

Cornered, the Time Lord was unable to do more than wait as the enraged man descended on him with murderous intent. He was roughly dragged away from the console and into the midst of the group. Johnson ordered him taken to the Temple shrine where they would be able to take out their revenge by breaking every bone in his body.

This was the plan.

This never happened.

Forgotten by all present, Jason again snaked a tendril around the only intact Epsilon circuit remaining, which still lay beside him on the floor. Another sheet of energy was released and the Doctor was alarmed when it suddenly surrounded him like a bubble. He was lifted from the floor and carried back to his original place at the console where, to his relief, the bubble spread out to form a protective barrier in front of him.

Only Johnson was familiar with force fields and reacted with anger instead of awe. He threw himself at the barrier in a blind rage sealing his fate and that of the others with him. He struck the barrier with his fist and it immediately split into fragments, wrapping every member of the Cult inside his own private bubble of damnation. Like their High Priest, they experienced the hellish suffering and torment of their own pasts. Panic ensued, but none escaped, the fragments following those who tried to run. The Cult's death throes were a horror to behold and the Doctor turned away, covering his ears against the tortured screams that filled the air.

Finally, mercifully, it was over. The glowing balls of death abruptly burst like soap bubbles in the wind, removing their occupants from the cosmos for all eternity. What followed was a deafening silence.

Numb and badly shaken, the Doctor sat back against the console filled with several conflicting emotions. He stared blankly into space, trying to come to terms with the fact that his own gentle, compassionate companion and been the one responsible for the violent and barbaric scene he had just witnessed. At the same time, he could not deny the fact that Jason had just saved his life for the third time since his arrival at the Temple.

A groan of pain from across the room brought the Time Lord to his senses and he looked up in time to Jason's body convulse violently. Pushing aside his desire for an explanation, he went to his gravely wounded friend, getting down on the floor beside him. "Jason, how badly are you hurt?" he asked gently.

"Pretty bad," came the weak reply. "I took…three bullets, I think." Taking his friend by the hand, Jason's voice became unnaturally calm when he stated, "I'm dying."

"No!" the Doctor exclaimed, not wanting to believe what he knew to be true. "This is all my fault. I never should've dragged you with me."

"I didn't…have to come," Jason said in a fast fading voice. "I'm not…a child…"

"I'll remember that next time."

The Alterran squeezed his hand. "No more…next times…" Again his body shook with pain and he groaned pitifully, the glow from his eyes growing dimmer.

The Doctor cursed under his breath. "If only we were closer to the TARDIS!" he hissed. The words were scarcely out of his mouth when there was a blinding flash and he fell back, shielding his eyes with his hand. Blinking to clear his vision, he then sat bolt upright, staring in astonishment. In the center of the Temple area stood the TARDIS.

The Time Lord was instantly on his feet. Before he had the chance to comment on this extraordinary occurrence, he saw his companion's body convulse. Then Jason's eyes went completely dark, his tendrils relaxing and then going limp. The stone-like sphere rolled free, coming to rest at the Doctor's feet.

"No!" The Doctor found a weak pulse and heaved a sigh of relief. At least the boy was still alive. He wrapped the Alterran in his coat and then picked up the circuit, his first thought being to smash it. He reconsidered and slipped it into a pocket until later.

The Doctor opened the door to the TARDIS and went back to his companion, gingerly lifting the limp form and carrying him in to the battered police box. He went directly to the sickbay, where with the utmost care he placed his injured friend on the same table where Alex had lain. Hesitating only a second, the Time Lord then went to find Dr. Albert.

"Doctor, I've already told you, I'm not a surgeon," Frankie protested as she was dragged into the examining room. Seeing the creature she had come to know as Crystal lying on the table, she was even more adamant. "How can you possibly imagine I could do anything while he looks like that? I might have some chance, if he looked like himself."

"My dear Dr. Albert," the Doctor said sharply, "that is what he looks like. Jason's human appearance is merely an illusion—"

"What!"

"—and you've had nearly a week to study him in his true form. So right now, you're the only hope he's got."

Frankie stared at the motionless form in revulsion and horror. She remembered how she had been attracted to the lost and frightened person she'd known as Chris, and how strangely giddy she had felt when he kissed her so passionately before leaving. Putting a hand to her mouth she turned away, feeling sick and betrayed. "That's what he really looks like? That…that…thing?" she breathed in disgust. "And I let him—" she broke off and shuddered.

The Doctor was not surprised by her reaction and readily understood her feelings of anger and betrayal. Had he a choice, he never would have revealed the truth. Unfortunately, there was no time for tact or diplomacy. "He's still the same person who saved your life! And Alex's too, I might add," he snapped. "What difference does it make what he looks like as long as he's the same person inside?"

Receiving no response, the Doctor tried a different tack. "Now are you going to help me save Jason's life, or are you going to stand there like a useless female?"

The arrow found its mark. The flaming-haired woman spun around, another fire burning in her eyes. She glared angrily at the Doctor, whose expression clearly challenged her to prove him wrong. Realizing he was right, she drew a deep breath, putting her personal feelings aside. Drawing herself to her full height, she crossed to the examining table and checked over the inert form. "Doctor, there's no way of telling which of these are entries and which are exits. Or if any of them are exits." Looking up, she said, "The bullets could still be in there."

"Jason mentioned three," the Time Lord informed worriedly, "but I'm sure he was hit more times than that."

The scientist threw up her hands. "This is impossible! I don't even know if any major organs are involved. If I go digging around in there, I could very well kill him myself."

The Doctor touched his motionless companion, searching for, and finding, his fast weakening pulse. "We've got to do something or he'll die."

Frankie caught her breath. "Wait a minute. He's a doctor, isn't he? A surgeon? Won't he have medical texts and things we could use? Even an anatomical diagram would be better than nothing."

Sadly, the Doctor was forced to admit that all of Jason's medical texts, as well as half of his room, were under a collapsed set of bookshelves. "We'll just have to muddle through. We've some of the finest medical equipment ever designed at our disposal, thanks to him," he said with more optimism than he felt. "Now, what would you need?"

"I'd need him back as a human," Frankie replied bluntly.

The words were no sooner out of her mouth than the Doctor let out an involuntary cry of alarm as a burst of energy suddenly flooded through him. It radiated from the Epsilon circuit in his pocket, down the arm he held to Jason's skin and poured into the body of the unconscious Alterran. There was no pain, but the Time Lord was undeniably startled by the experience. Snatching his hand away, he took an automatic step back.

Mystified by this exceptional behavior, Frankie opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong. She never got the chance. To their astonishment, Jason's body started to shimmer.