Chapter 29

"I Need your Help."

The Doctor's companions came across the visibly calmer Prince Jason as they were making their way to their rooms. The Alterran was staring out a window into the darkness, having regained his composure enough to hide the rage that still boiled within him.

Hearing the approaching footsteps, Jason turned, noticing at once that Tegan did not look well. She was pale and trembling slightly, with a strange vacant look in her eyes. Not at all the aggressive woman he knew her to be.

Turlough watched in amazement as an instantaneous transformation took place, recalling the Doctor having remarked on how quickly Jason could switch into "Healer mode." The angry lines on the Prince's face suddenly vanished to be replaced with an expression of deep compassion. In a blink, Healer Jason had taken the place of the inconsolable Crown Prince.

"How are you feeling, Tegan?" Jason asked softly, taking her by the hand. "Any better?"

"I'm fine," she replied with a half-smile, unaware of the fact that the Prince was in the process of scanning her. Looking him in the eye, Tegan practically demanded, "Jason, what's wrong with the Doctor?"

"I wish I knew."

Tegan blinked. "But…I thought you were going to scan him when you got back."

"Father told me he refused, so I didn't push it. After that, he never asked. And now…every time I go near him he backs off." Jason shook his head in bewilderment. "If I didn't know better, I'd say he was afraid of me."

"That's not like the Doctor," Turlough observed.

"A lot of things aren't like the Doctor since we found him," Tegan sighed, being equally bewildered. "If only he could remember what happened." A sudden thought struck her and she caught her breath. "You don't suppose he ran into the Master out there, do you?" she asked astutely.

"There was no physical trauma," Jason objected. "Even if he'd been stunned, there would've been telltale signs. And Father didn't find any."

"But, Jason…"

"No, really," the Prince went on. "Just think about it. The Master is consumed with hatred. He's also vain as hell. Can you see him pulling something this bizarre without revealing himself to the Doctor beforehand? He'd've wanted to make sure he got the credit."

"Maybe he did and the Doctor just doesn't remember," Tegan said darkly.

"Could that transference thing be causing this?" Turlough wondered.

"After all this time?" Tegan said unbelievingly.

"Well, it did almost kill him! Who knows what else it might've done? I mean, why else would he suddenly be so keen on going back to Gallifrey? He couldn't get away from the place fast enough before."

"And that's another thing," Jason said pointedly. "When did the Doctor become Lord President? He's the last person I'd expect to be heading the High Council."

"That," Tegan sighed, "is a very long story."

The Prince looked over to Turlough, who nodded. "A very long and very complicated story," he agreed.

"I see," Jason sighed. "Then perhaps we should continue this discussion tomorrow. You can fill me in on the details after we've all had a good night's sleep."

After seeing Tegan to her room, Turlough went to his own and wearily entered the moonlit suite, going straight to the bedroom. He gave a resigned sigh before hitting the light switch. Nothing happened. "Great. Now the lights don't work," he moaned.

The door suddenly closed behind him and, just as suddenly, he was grabbed from behind, a hand clamped firmly over his mouth. "Don't make a sound," a deep voice hissed in his ear. "I need to talk to you."

Recognizing the voice, Turlough struggled without success to free himself.

"I'm not here to hurt you, Turlough," the voice went on, "and I'll let you go if you promise to hear me out before screaming the house down."

"Do I have a choice?" Turlough asked from behind the hand.

"Just hear me out."

The boy nodded his agreement and was instantly released. He backed away from his assailant, staring in disbelief. "I don't believe it. It is you. How did you get in here?"

"That can wait till later," the Doctor replied sharply. "Right now, I must talk to you. You're probably the only one I can trust."

To Turlough, the person speaking was the Master, a consummate liar and deadly killer who, thankfully, was unarmed at the time. Nevertheless, the young man made certain to stay out of reach lest he be overpowered again. "I didn't think you trusted anyone," he said bitterly.

"Turlough, please,listen," the Doctor said insistently. "I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong. I'm not the Master."

"Who are you, then?"

"I'm the Doctor."

"And I'm the Czar of all the Russias," Turlough shot back smoothly.

The Doctor held up his hands. "Please, listen!"

His companion gave him a dark look. He didn't believe a word of it. The Master was only out to save his skin. Still, it was one of his better ploys. And since the Time Lord was between him and the door, Turlough decided to play along until a chance for escape presented itself. "I'm listening," he said blandly.

The Doctor drew a deep breath. He had taken a big chance contacting the boy while his head was still fuzzy. But for the sake of his companions' lives, he felt it was worth the risk. If his enemy's plot succeeded and he was killed, then Tegan and Turlough would no longer be necessary and would very likely be killed, too.

The Doctor, quite literally, talked as if his life depended on it, telling the skeptical Turlough everything he could recall of the events leading to his discover that, somehow, he and the Master had exchanged places.

"Supposing—by some wild stretch of the imagination—I should believe any of this," Turlough began caustically. "What do you want from me?"

"I need your help."

"Help! Oh, I like that!" the young man cried, masking his growing fear with aggression. "I've seen what happens to your helpers. They usually end up very small and very dead!"

"No! Turlough, you must believe me!" the Doctor said earnestly. "I can't go to anyone else, the Master's already seen to that. Jason would probably try to kill me if I went anywhere near him. And Tegan—" He paused, only to shake his head. "She never listened to me before. There's no way she would now."

Resenting the implication, Turlough demanded, "And what made you think I would?"

"I don't know. I suppose—" The Doctor's explanation was cut off when another wave of dizziness swept over him, sending him reeling against the wall. He leaned heavily against its steadying surface, closing his eyes in order to concentrate his flagging energies. He felt as if he were being pulled violently in all directions, a sensation that grew more painful with each episode. When the instability finally passed, he was completely exhausted, the physical and mental strain of the last several hours, and the lingering effects of the drugs, having taken their toll on him.

"Instability in the link…" the Doctor whispered, "growing stronger." He continued to use the wall to steady himself, still dazed by the unexpected onslaught.

Turlough considered taking advantage of the situation and bolting from the room. The door wasn't that far away, and if he moved fast enough, he was sure he could avoid being grabbed on the way out.

"I'm so tired…" the Doctor said in a voice that was suddenly very frail. "So very, very tired." He lowered himself wearily into an armchair, apparently oblivious to the danger into which he was placing himself.

Now completely baffled, Turlough looked quizzically at the figure before him. It was the Master. It had to be! He was trying to trick him. Convince him of this wild story so he'd betray the Doctor. He was—

Turlough blinked. To his utter astonishment, he suddenly realized his unwanted guest was sound asleep.