Chapter 21
KaRoon-Tar
Although unable to move, the Doctor found he could still speak. "What? Kill me outright? Not really your style, is it?"
"Perhaps…" the Master purred evasively. "Although, I do find your present predicament most enjoyable."
"You would," came the caustic reply. "A variation on a theme?"
"Ah! You, of course, would be referring to the transference chamber your Alterran friend managed to destroy so completely," the Master replied, controlling his anger with visible effort. "The young Prince will find it difficult to oppose me now. In fact, I'd say he'll find it quite impossible."
The Doctor did not like the sound of this statement or the ominous implications it held for Jason.
"It may interest you to know," his rival went on, "that Professor Turner kept some very impressive notes concerning his experiments. I took the liberty of removing them before my final departure from the Institute."
"All in the interest of scientific research, no doubt," the Doctor said sarcastically.
The Master ignored the barbed comment. "The Professor made some intriguing references to the research done on this very planet." Ever the showman, he crossed to the wall directly in front of the Doctor, opening a panel with a flourish and removing orange-sized crystals from a fitted case. Each crystal throbbed with power as the Master carefully inserted them into sockets in a sunburst pattern similar to the one on the floor.
The Doctor instantly recognized the technology, having seen something similar many years before. The crystals were more than decorative. They were actually control circuits that were an integral part of a specialized control console. But controlling what? And why?
By now, the Doctor's mind was racing. He had thought all of the notes on Professor Turner's research had been destroyed. After all, he'd personally overseen the operation. But if the Professor had put everything in writing, and the Master had gotten hold of it, then he would be able to recreate the project, including the transference unit. But if the writings were only reference notes, which seemed more likely, then it was possible the renegade Time Lord was attempting to reconstruct the project from scratch, starting with the research from Tel-Shye.
"What kind of research?" the Doctor asked finally.
The Master turned to face him. "Why…genetic engineering, of course. The Alterrans may prohibit it now, but their past research remains intact." Pausing for affect, he added, "That—and other things…"
The Doctor sighed heavily, knowing he would have to play along if he were ever going to get any answers. "Other things?"
"They have some closely guarded secrets, these Alterrans. Information available to only their closest of allies."
"The Time Lords, you mean."
"The very same."
"So that's how Professor Turner was able to complete everything so quickly. You stole the information from Gallifrey!"
"You're getting old, Doctor. You should've figured that one out long before now," the Master chided. He spread out his arms to take in the enormous cavern surrounding them. "This room in which we stand also holds many secrets. None the least of which is something called, KaRoon-Tar."
The Doctor frowned. "KaRoon-Tar? Mind-Binding?"
"You know the ancient tongue, Doctor. Now I am impressed," his rival crooned in a rare compliment. "Yes, mind-bonding. The process has an interesting effect on those of us they call outsiders." So saying, the Master thrust the last crystal into the center of the console and touched a number of switches before crossing to the twin of the half-moon that held the Doctor immobile. The circular platform rose out of the floor and then he, too, was engulfed in a beam of white light.
"When next we meet, Doctor, I believe you'll find me a changed man," the Master said enigmatically.
Tegan and Shadra returned to the Palace to find Turlough sipping a cold drink and brooding under a dark cloud. He had returned himself quite some time ago, but the Doctor was still nowhere to be seen.
In all likelihood the Time Lord had wandered off yet again, Turlough thought sullenly. It wasn't that he minded being at the Palace. It was just that he was starting to get restless. Well, bored actually. He found himself yearning for the excitement that always seemed to follow in the Doctor's wake.
Turlough had no way of knowing that he was about to get his wish. In a very short time he would find himself embroiled in one of the most bizarre events of his life.
A hum of power had filled the Crystal Cavern. The Doctor started to feel as if a great weight were pressed down on his chest, making it difficult to breathe. And if that weren't bad enough, a strange force was clawing savagely at his mind. Which to concentrate on first, he wondered almost hysterically.
As the power continued to build, the shafts of light slowly began changing color, going from white to red.
Feeling the increase in power, the Doctor redoubled his efforts to resist the unrelenting forces clawing at him. Even though he was a Time Lord, he was not immune to fatigue and eventually his resistance grew weaker and weaker. Finally, like a giant rubber band pulled taut and then snapping from the strain, the Doctor felt his mind being wrenched from his body. He was aware of, rather than felt, a flood of emotions washing over him: anger, hatred, contempt, and dominating them all—pure evil. Then, mercifully, there was only blackness.
The shafts of light transfixing the enemy Time Lords continued to change color, going from a nearly blinding white radiance to a dark, blood red hue. The moment the Doctor felt his mind wrenched away, an alarm sounded on the control panel, the crystals flashing in a wild frenzy. The beams of light flickered a moment and then abruptly went out, releasing their captives who dropped to the floor like puppets whose strings had been cut.
The crystals encrusting the walls joined those in the console in a spectacular display of wildly flashing lights. The alarm cut out automatically, ending the light show that had gone unobserved by the motionless occupants of the raised platforms.
The Master was the first to regain consciousness. He sat up slowly and looked hesitantly down at himself, a smile of evil satisfaction coming to his face. Rising to his feet, he crossed to the polished stonewall and looked at his reflection. The face of the Doctor looked back. A low chuckle rumbled forth. The process had worked. He had exchanged places with the Doctor.
The Master crossed to the motionless form on the opposite platform, checking him over and giving a satisfied grunt when he found the weak, steady pulse. The sudden and violent mental attack had tripped a defense mechanism and had cause the Doctor to mentally retreat. It would render him unconscious for a short time. The Master's plan required a much longer interval, however.
He went to the control console and retrieved a syringe, injecting a powerful drug into the body he had just vacated. That would keep his rival out of the way while he set the rest of his scheme into motion, he thought smugly. He returned the syringe to the drawer, exchanging it for the weapon that had become his hallmark—the Tissue Compression Eliminator. Slipping the TCE into a pocket, the Master strode arrogantly to the door.