As they approached the resort, the three travelers could see that near-pandemonium had broken out. People stood about arguing, shoving, and even hitting each other; tempers seemed to flare without provocation. As they neared the closest building, they saw Joyara in heated debate with another woman, presumably a guest. Joyara had leaned into her opponent aggressively, reaching for her hair.

The Doctor quickly slipped behind Joyara and pulled her back, pinning her arms to her sides. "Turlough," he said, "get the laser cutter from my pocket and remove her bracelet."

Turlough nodded, complying immediately. Joyara struggled against the Doctor's grip, cursing in a most undignified and unprofessional manner, but Turlough managed to cut through the gold and slip the bracelet off of her wrist. While he worked, the Doctor moved his device over her eyes then held it to her forehead.

"She has one of those tattoos, too," Turlough exclaimed.

The Doctor glanced down at her arm. "Where did you get this?" he asked, loosening his grip.

She touched her forehead then lunged away from him. "Let go of me! I'm not your property. You have no right!" She stalked off indignantly.

The Doctor stood for a moment staring at the tattoo until Joyara was out of his sight. "I just can't place it," he murmured.

"Sometimes they use brands," Turlough said softly.

"Pardon me?" the Doctor asked.

"On some of the prison colonies," Turlough clarified, "they brand the prisoners. I've heard that on others they tattoo them."

"Yes," the Doctor confirmed, "you're right. That's where I've seen it before—not that precise design, but similar ones on Scourgon 5 and other penal colonies."

"Do you think the bracelet was intended to cover it up?" asked Tegan.

"Let's find out." The Doctor walked along the pathway, eyes scanning quickly around until he veered off to the right.

His companions saw a partially-open door with the words "Jaldar Druus, Executive Manager" painted in fine gold across the front.

The Doctor did not knock; he simply pushed open the door. Druus sat at his desk, a handkerchief pressed to his forehead. He was obviously agitated.

"There is no contamination in the food or water," the Doctor said unceremoniously, placing his hands on the large, ornate desk and leaning forward over Druus. "But I'm quite certain that you already knew that."

The manager looked up. "No, I—I mean, our food is the highest quality, of course there's no contamination in it—"

"Your workers," the Doctor interjected. "Where do they come from?"

Druus cleared his throat. "From several different planets. The opportunity to work here is always a draw."

"And the opportunity to leave the penal colony makes it even more appealing, doesn't it?" The Doctor leaned forward even further. "Only you can't risk that any of them might become violent, so you weld the receiver bracelets onto their wrists the moment they arrive, or probably even before they get here, to ensure that they remain calm. The bracelets hide their tattoos as well."

"I don't know what you're talking about—"

The Doctor lifted his hand to point a finger at Druus. "And the ambience here," he continued, "the feeling of peace and tranquility—that's because of the transmissions. They stimulate low-level delta and theta waves. At first you used them just to keep the workers in line, but soon you discovered that they had a positive effect on the guests, too, that everyone felt calm here."

Tegan stepped forward. "That's why you can operate so cheaply," she said. "You don't have to pay the prisoners very much—maybe nothing at all, just room and board—so you and your corporation keep most of the money the government gives you."

Druus' mouth moved spasmodically, and he pressed a hand to his chest. The Doctor scooted around the desk quickly and withdrew the device from his pocket. A moment after he pressed it against Druus' forehead, the manager fell back in his chair, his eyes closed. The Doctor shook his head in mild disgust then lifted the man's limp wrist.

"Doctor?" Tegan asked. "Is he all right?"

Dropping his wrist, the Time Lord replied, "He'll be fine in a minute. See if you can find him some water."

By the time Tegan returned from an adjacent sitting room with a glass of water, Druus had come around. He sat with his head in his hands but accepted the water with a small nod. The Doctor had perched on the edge of the desk. After Druus took several swallows of water, the Time Lord spoke to him firmly.

"You've got an extremely serious situation here. The transmitter is malfunctioning, stimulating everyone's brains in precisely the opposite way from its original intent. If this continues, you will most certainly see major casualties—grave injuries or even deaths as the acute anxiety intensifies. I will help you, but you must tell me the truth."

Druus pointed at the device upon the desk. "What is that?"

Tucking the instrument back into his pocket, the Doctor said, "It provides a temporary return to normal brain wave activity."

"And we can use it on everyone here?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. It only has sufficient power for ten to twelve more usages. The best thing you can do is to remove the bracelets from all of your employees. That will alleviate the effects of the transmission somewhat—"

"But they may become violent!" Druus protested.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Were most of them imprisoned for violent crimes?"

"We don't have any murderers here, if that's what you mean," Druus said rather imperiously.

"But others have committed crimes using violence, haven't they? Their sentences would not be long if they had not. You will have to take the risk that some may revert to their earlier tendencies; it is preferable to the known effects that wearing the bracelets have." He pointed at Tegan, who covered her cheek self-consciously.

"All right," Druus said tiredly, "I'll have the bracelets removed, but then what?"

"Get as many guests onto transport ships as you can, and take them back to their home planets."

Druus glanced out the window before responding to this. "There isn't another ship due in until the day after tomorrow."

"Then put them in your ship and take them—"

"I can't," Druus interjected. "We have one ship; we use it for medical emergencies, but it only holds five including the pilot, and it's… out of commission."

"Out of commission?"

"I checked it an hour ago—"

"I see," the Doctor said summarily. "You were planning to leave here."

"No, no—I was just making sure that it was ready, in case someone needed it. But it's been damaged—the windows have been smashed—"

"So," Turlough said, "you haven't got any way to get people out of here. Doctor, could we use the TARDIS?"

The Time Lord shook his head. "No, Turlough, she's not even close to being operational. I'm afraid that the trip here took quite a toll on the systems."

"So what can I do?" Druus asked miserably.

"You are going to tell us precisely how this transmission works, and where the transmitter is located, and I am going to attempt to readjust or deactivate it."

Druus began mopping at his forehead again. "I don't know how it works," he began.

"Tell me exactly what you do know. And tell me everything, or I will not be able to help you."

Druus nodded, his expression one of trapped acquiescence. "All right, Doctor. All I know is that yes, there is a transmitter, and you're right about its function. It sends out some sort of impulses that make everyone feel calmer—the engineer at corporate headquarters said it changes their brain waves somehow. I don't know any more about how it works."

"Where is it located? Show me the building."

Druus shook his head. "It's not here."

"Not here? Not on the planet?"

"No, I mean it's not here at the resort. It's out there, beyond the complex, maybe fifteen kilometers. I went out there once when I first arrived here, but the engineers maintain it."

"So there is a team that works out there?"

"Just the engineer and his assistant. Every four days one of them returns here for twenty-four hours' rest; they alternate."

"When was he here last?"

"Two days ago."

"And did he mention any problems with the transmitter?"

"No, everything was fine."

The Doctor handed Druus the communicator on the desk. "Call him now."

Druus picked up the receiver then put it back down. "I already did—at least a dozen times since everything started to…go wrong, but they're not answering."

The Doctor stood. "When are the engineers from your corporate headquarters arriving?"

Druus swallowed hard. "I… haven't sent for them yet."

"Haven't sent for them?" The Doctor slammed his hand down on the desk. "Why not? Surely you didn't think you could handle this by yourself?"

"I…" Druus' foot tapped against the bottom of the desk. "I was hoping I'd be able to reach our crew. No need to notify corporate until we're sure we've got a problem—"

"Until you're sure you've got a problem?" the Doctor repeated. "And just how long were you planning to wait? How many people needed to be hurt before you admitted that you couldn't handle this on your own?"

"It'll mean my job—"

"Your job?" the Doctor cried. "Your job for the lives of how many people?"

"Please, Doctor," Druus pleaded, the small amount of remaining color draining from his face, "I will call them, I'll get them here as soon as possible, but it won't be for at least twelve hours. But in the meantime, please do what you can—"

"Of course!" snapped the Time Lord. "Now tell me where that transmitter is."

Druus provided a hand-drawn map illustrating the route to the transmitter. He led the three visitors to a small outbuilding where the vehicles were kept. There was little need for transportation within the resort, but guests were driven the short distance from the spaceport to the complex. The attendant had vanished from the garage, so Druus swung open the large door.

"Damn," he muttered.

The Doctor, Tegan, and Turlough looked over his shoulders to see that the four vehicles, which somewhat resembled golf carts, had been fiercely vandalized. Tires were slashed and windshields shattered on three of the cars. One seemed to have sustained less damage, and the Doctor immediately examined it, lifting the hood to study the engine then sliding across the seat to turn the key in the ignition. The engine spluttered then caught, emitting a rough purr.

"This one will do," he said shortly. "Come on."

Tegan and Turlough climbed inside, Tegan next to the Doctor and Turlough in the back seat. The Doctor began to back the vehicle out of the garage but paused next to Druus.

"You're going to call your corporate office immediately," he reminded the manager firmly. "And I'd suggest that you get as many guests to their rooms as possible, and encourage them to remain inside." He reached into his pocket and grasped the laser cutter, which he tossed to Druus. "Use this for the bracelets."

He maneuvered the cart out of the garage and turned the wheel to steer it along the pathway leading away from the complex.

"Doctor," said Tegan, "I know that the TARDIS can't travel right now, but couldn't we put the people inside? You said the transmissions couldn't reach us in there—"

"No," he corrected, "I said that they did not affect us as strongly inside. Be that as it may, it would be extremely difficult to move all of the people from the resort into the TARDIS—a bit like herding a group of stampeding cattle, I should think. And in their current emotional states, the shock upon entering the TARDIS would be rather severe."

"I suppose you're right," she conceded. "Do you think you can fix the transmitter?"

"I imagine so," he replied, slowing the vehicle as the paved pathway yielded to a grassy stretch of land.

Turlough leaned forward from the back seat. "So the transmitter is sending completely different signals now, right? What would cause that to happen?"

The Doctor steered around a small rise. "Some sort of malfunction, most likely, but it is odd that the engineer isn't answering his phone."

"Do you think something happened, like an explosion?" asked Turlough.

"Possibly."

Tegan was surveying the landscape with a growing frown. "It's changed completely," she commented. "It's so bleak out here."

The lush, manicured resort grounds had disappeared as they traveled away from the complex. Now they saw only scrubby, olive green and grey bushes, and dry grass. A few sparse trees scattered dead leaves over the flat stretches of land. In the distance more hills rose up; the map indicated that the transmitter lay just over these.

"It's like we're on a different planet," she said.

The Doctor glanced over the land, careful to avoid the bushes as he drove along. "They've brought most of the water to the resort," he said, nodding toward a wide pipeline that ran back to the complex. "This planet is semi-arid, which makes the climate mild with very little rain."

"But the entire area around the complex is so beautiful," Tegan began.

"The results of irrigation and attractive use of landscaping," the Doctor finished.

Turlough lifted his hand and swept it across the vista. "And this is probably another reason the Sanadia Corporation chose to build here—it was so desolate that they got it cheaply. Between this and the use of prisoners for staff, the corporation must have made a fortune on this place."

Tegan had grown silent at the mention of prisoners. She sank back against the seat, shoulders hunched, watching the bleak landscape. It was becoming less flat, with small rises on either side of the vehicle. "What," she began tentatively after a time, "what do you think he did?"

The Doctor looked quickly at her then focused his gaze on the land again. "I hope he's called corporate by now."

"No," she said, "I mean Kol."

"Oh." The Doctor removed his left hand from the steering wheel to pat her knee, glancing at her again. "I'm sure it—"

"Doctor!" cried Turlough, "watch out!"

There was a rise to the right, and the vehicle banked slightly as the tires moved over the incline. A large patch of thorny bushes lay directly ahead of them. The car could not avoid the thicket if the Doctor guided it back down; he had no choice but to force it up the incline. He accelerated, twisting the wheel to encourage the vehicle to push upward, but the engine had little additional power. The car began to slide back down the rise, toward the bushes.

The Doctor slammed his foot against the accelerator, and the car shuddered forward in a small leap. "Hang on!" he yelled.

The vehicle arced slightly up the bank then, barely clear of the thicket, and the Time Lord jerked the wheel to turn it toward the flatter ground just below. The engine spluttered and died. The Doctor reached for the handbrake, but discovered quite immediately that the entire system relied upon electricity. The brakes would not function without the motor running. The car began to slide forward toward the bushes. The Doctor turned the key again, but the engine refused to cooperate. The car slammed head-first into the thicket.

Turlough flew forward, his momentum stopped only when his head hit the dashboard. Tegan had reached out to grip the support post near the hood, but she was still pushed upward and half-way out of the vehicle. The Doctor's hands clamped onto the steering wheel, and he braced his body with his feet at the useless pedals. Still, his knees struck the underside of the dash.

Tegan lowered herself back down to the seat, grasping her wrist, already sore from her earlier fall. Turlough had reached up to press his hands over his crown. Tentatively he lifted his shoulders and head to sit back against the seat. The Doctor slid out the open side of the car to evaluate the damage to the vehicle, then, with a sigh, he turned back to his companions.

"Is everyone all right?" he asked, grimacing slightly as he brushed dirt off of his knees.

"Cripes, Doctor," responded Tegan, "what happened?"

"I didn't realize that the landforms had changed so rapidly," he began. "This is unusual terrain—" He stopped, then simply said, "Sorry."

Turlough had raised his legs and now rested his head on his knees. He kneaded at the back of his neck with his hand.

"Turlough?" the Doctor inquired. "How's your head?"

The Trion lifted his head slowly. An angry lump was already forming on his forehead, just beneath his hairline. "Great," he muttered sardonically, "now I have a second pain to match the one in my neck."

The Doctor leaned into the vehicle to study Turlough's eyes for a moment. "You'll be all right," he said, straightening as he rested his hand on the hood. "However, I'm afraid that I can't say the same for the car."

Tegan got out of the vehicle, still rubbing at her wrist. "So what do we do now?"

The Doctor glanced back in the direction from which they had come then turned his head toward the hills ahead. "Druus' map shows that the transmission station is just over the hills. We've already driven about ten kilometers, so it shouldn't be much further now."

"You're not suggesting that we walk?" Tegan said with a scowl.

The Doctor had already begun to move. "Come along," he called without looking back.

Turlough and Tegan exchanged glances. For once they were in agreement; neither was happy about the prospect of a five-kilometer trek over the barren hills.

They walked in silence for some time. Turlough's neck was terribly stiff, and he found that the slightest movement caused him considerable pain. His head throbbed, too. He truly wanted nothing more than to sit down beneath a tree, close his eyes, and slip away for a few minutes… But he kept up with the Doctor's pace, growing more uncomfortable by the minute.

Tegan tromped along unhappily, too. The vivid memory of Kol's treatment and the Doctor's outburst nagged at her, and she found herself becoming anxious and fearful. Her eyes darted all around continuously, seeking the slightest movement, confirming her suspicion that something was watching and waiting. Once she was certain that she saw a dark shape dash across the adjacent hillside. She stopped, exclaiming, "Did you see that?"

The Doctor and Turlough paused, the latter lifting his head reluctantly.

"What?" the Doctor asked, looking about.

"There was something over there—I think it went behind those bushes," she said rather breathlessly.

"It was probably just an animal," the Doctor said. "I'm sure there is some wildlife out here, though I imagine that anything other than birds is discouraged from nearing the resort."

"But it could be something dangerous," Tegan persisted, edging closer to the Doctor. "Did you see it, Turlough?"

"No," he replied flatly, angry that she had made him move his head. "It was probably just your imagination."

"No, it wasn't! I know I saw something!"

"Well, just keep your fancies to yourself from now on," Turlough said testily.

"It wasn't a fancy! Someone might have followed us out here—"

Turlough rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Tegan, like who? Like your boyfriend? I imagine he got quite enough of you this afternoon—"

Tegan whirled on him, lifting her hand to slap him across the face. The Doctor's arm whipped upward, catching Tegan's wrist and pulling her hand down.

"That's enough!" he said sternly. His expression darkened, but after a moment he took a breath and reached into his pocket. "The transmissions are beginning to affect all of us again."

He switched on the device and quickly passed it before Tegan's eyes then pressed it over her forehead. She stood quietly for a moment when he had finished, appearing slightly dazed. He moved on to Turlough but paused, mindful of the lump on his brow, which lay in precisely the spot best suited for the treatment. He moved the device a few centimeters lower and activated the final pulse, hoping that the effects would not be altered by the slight change in position.

"Hey, watch it!" Turlough began to protest, but as soon as the treatment ended he, like Tegan, stood still for a few seconds.

The Doctor rapidly used the device on himself then tucked it back into his pocket. "Feeling better?" he asked as he looked up.

Tegan nodded. "Thanks, Doctor."

Turlough had not moved.

"Turlough?" the Doctor inquired.

The Trion finally blinked. "Oh, yes, I suppose so."

"The effects of the transmitter are becoming more intense as we near it, so we'll need to have the treatments more frequently. As soon as either of you begin feeling irritable or anxious let me know."

"But you said the device could only be used ten or twelve times," Tegan reminded him.

"Yes, but that still leaves at least seven—that's two more for each of us."

"And if you should need it for the engineer and his assistant?" Turlough asked.

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it." The Doctor began walking again.

Within a few minutes, it became clear that Tegan had not imagined the movement on the hillside. An animal the size of a medium dog sprinted down the hill, followed by another very similar creature.

"That's it!" Tegan exclaimed. "That's what I saw!" She turned back to Turlough for an instant. "See, I told you I wasn't imagining things!"

"Well good for you," he said tartly.

"Back to your old selves, I see," the Doctor commented rather tiredly, still watching the animals. They resembled canines in more than size. The pursuer had caught up to its quarry and now clamped its mouth over the other's hindquarters. The bitten animal let out an odd, squealing yowl.

Tegan squinted slightly to see the animals in detail. "They look just alike. Are they the same species?"

"It seems so," the Doctor replied.

"But why is the one attacking the other? Don't wild dogs usually hunt in packs?" Tegan asked.

"They may turn on each other if they're starving," the Doctor explained, "but I don't think that's the case here. The transmissions have probably affected them, too, causing similar aggression and fear."

The animals struggled for a minute, then the attacker managed to deliver a fatal bite to his opponent's neck. The quarry fell to the ground instantly. The other animal lifted its head to sniff the air. Its head turned, and its sharp eyes seemed to lock on the three travelers. Tegan was nearly certain that she heard it snort, but the Doctor's hand around her arm, tugging her away, prevented any more detailed observation.

The three ran to the top of the hill then continued down, driven forward somewhat by the decline. The Doctor's eyes skimmed the area, then he yelled, "Over there!" as he pointed at a small copse of spindly trees.

Tegan glanced back to see the animal in pursuit. It moved incredibly fast, and now she was certain that she could hear its angry grunts. It was nearing them quickly. The Doctor reached the trees first and broke off a branch, yelling, "Get behind me."

Turlough and Tegan complied as the animal lunged for the Doctor. He extended the branch toward the beast; it clamped onto the wood with its teeth, snarling as foam began to ooze from its lips. After a moment it seemed to realize that the branch was not its intended prey, and it released the dry bark as its blazing eyes locked onto the Doctor. It growled then opened its mouth to give an eerie, almost plaintive cry before it dropped to the ground.

The animal lay unmoving on its side, its glassy eyes still open but clearly unseeing. The Doctor prodded it tentatively with the branch, but it did not respond.

"It's dead," he said.

"What happened to it?" asked Tegan.

"I imagine its heart gave out from the extreme exertion."

Tegan bent to study the animal for a moment. "Rabbits. Could that happen to us?"

"Not if we get the transmitter repaired. Come on." The Doctor walked away from the copse toward the next hill.

As the small group walked, they saw several other animals that had clearly been affected by the transmissions. A large gray bird swooped down upon them, attempting to attack them with its sharp talons. A small, frightened mammal skittered out of a bush and caught the bird's attention, however, before it could inflict any serious damage. Tegan was still shaken from the incident, and the Doctor had to place his arm around her to encourage her to continue on. Her eyes scanned the sky frequently; she seemed to anticipate another attack at any moment. She was growing anxious again.

Turlough walked slightly behind them, his head still bent as he tried to knead his sore neck. The Doctor could not judge the young man's emotional state without seeing his face.

"Turlough," he said without stopping, "how are you feeling?"

"Just great," the Trion muttered, barely looking up.

"I realize that your head and neck are sore, but are you beginning to feel any anxiety?"

"I don't know," he responded morosely. "All I can really feel is my damned neck."

"It shouldn't be much farther now," the Doctor said, trying to muster a heartening tone, but he could feel a vague apprehension creeping up upon him, too. He hesitated to give his companions another treatment so soon; he felt certain that it would be several hours, at the least, before the transmitter was repaired, and the device he had hastily created would not sustain its effectiveness indefinitely.

He led Tegan along and kept an eye on Turlough as he trudged behind them. It seemed best to remain quiet; at least without conversation there was little danger of either of his companions baiting the other.

He felt Tegan flinch beside him when several small birds fluttered past overhead. She looked back then gripped the Doctor's hand. "There's someone following us," she said.

The Doctor turned to survey the hills behind them. He saw no movements, save the small rustle of leaves in the breeze. There were a few scrubby bushes, but he doubted that anyone could hide behind these.

"Tegan," he said reasonably, "no one has followed us. The other vehicles were damaged, remember? There isn't any way that someone could get out here this quickly on foot."

"It's just your imagination again," Turlough scoffed.

Tegan studied the Doctor's face for a moment; he appeared sincere, and she wanted to trust him. "I'm sure I saw something," she began.

"More flights of fancy!" Turlough said derisively. "Don't listen to her, Doctor—"

Tegan turned to glare at Turlough. "And was it just my imagination that you shouldn't be trusted, that you were hiding something from us? If I'd paid better attention to that feeling we wouldn't be out here now! We'd have left you on Earth or on Mawdryn's ship—some place where your secrets couldn't hurt us."

The Doctor stepped in front of Tegan. "That's enough."

"But he isn't even sorry! He doesn't even care that he almost got you killed—"

Turlough frowned in resentment and indignation. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

The Doctor lifted his hands. "You have to stop this—both of you!"

"It's his fault," Tegan began.

Turlough took a step toward Tegan, and the Doctor's hand shot out toward his chest. "Stop it!" His voice had risen considerably with his rapidly mounting irritation.

Tegan shrank back at Turlough's and the Doctor's sudden movements. Turlough pushed the Doctor's arm away roughly, but the Time Lord stepped in front of him. "Keep away from her," he said darkly.

"She's asking for it," Turlough spat, "just like she asked for it from Kol—"

The Doctor grabbed Turlough's collar in one swift motion, pulling the young man forward, nearly dragging him off of the ground, barking roughly, "No one deserves to be treated like that."

Turlough reached up to grasp the Doctor's wrist, but his grip was firm. "Let go!" he choked out. "You're hurting me!"

The Doctor's eyes had narrowed and darkened, but now they widened slightly, and he released Turlough. The young man fell to his knees, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his collar as he inhaled several ragged breaths.

With a shaking hand, the Doctor removed the device from his pocket and quickly passed it over his own eyes then pressed it to his brow. Still, his voice seemed to shake slightly when he asked, "Are you all right, Turlough?"

The Trion looked up lividly. "No, I'm not all right! You damn near strangled me!" He began to stand, but the Doctor immediately moved the device before his eyes then finished with his forehead before helping Turlough to his feet.

Tegan stood with her arms wrapped around herself, tears welling in her eyes. She appeared terrified.

"It's all right, Tegan," the Doctor said, trying somewhat unsuccessfully to sound comforting as he lifted the device toward her eyes.

She twisted her head away in fear, her eyes huge and mouth open; she was nearly panting.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he reassured her, but he found that he had to exert a small amount of force to hold her head still in order to administer the treatment. When he had finished she began to sink to the ground. Her took her arms and helped her to stand.

After a few seconds she looked at him in some surprise. "What happened?" she asked.

"You don't remember?"

She shook her head. "Oh—you were holding Turlough—Doctor, you were choking him!"

The Time Lord looked back at Turlough. "I'm sorry," he said simply. "We have to get to the transmitter as soon as possible. The effects have intensified, and our treatments are lasting less than half an hour. We need to keep moving."

They walked briskly, led by the Doctor. Their rapid pace was two-fold; it would advance them to their destination faster, and it seemed to keep everyone quiet as they focused on the trek. Less conversation appeared to keep the group calmer.

When a movement caught Tegan's eye again as she glanced back, she remained silent, remembering the repercussions of her voiced concerns earlier. The rational part of her knew that it was impossible that anyone had followed them, but her emotional core could not forget Kol's livid face when he had come to her room looking for her.

Turlough focused on walking without too much discomfort. He sincerely hoped that the transmission station would have a few supplies, chief among them some pain relievers. He had hated the gritty bitterness of aspirin when he was at school. Even water did not remove the taste from his mouth completely. Yet now he would gladly chew two aspirin dry if it meant some alleviation of the constant tightness in his neck and aching of his head.

When the Doctor finally said, "That must be it," his two companions were vastly relieved. Tegan longed for the sanctuary of the solid looking building, while Turlough yearned for its provisions. The two young people actually sprinted ahead of the Doctor in their eagerness to reach the building.

As they neared it, they saw that it was constructed of gray block without any visible windows. On the top were several large wire structures and a small dome. A narrow metal door appeared to be the only point of access.

The Doctor knocked on the door, calling out, "Hello! Mr. Druus has sent us."

He turned the handle easily, and the door swung open into a dark hallway.

"The light bulb's broken," Tegan observed, pointing at the fixture on the ceiling.

The Doctor removed a small torch from his pocket. "Keep your eyes open," he advised. "I don't have a good feeling about this."

They walked cautiously down the hallway, Tegan keeping close to the Doctor's side. There were two additional doors, one on either side, near the end of the passageway. Slowly and quietly the Doctor opened the door to his left. The room was dark and still. He shone the light inside to reveal a bunkbed, a small table with two chairs, several cabinets, and a kitchenette.

"This must be their living quarters," the Doctor said softly.

He stepped inside and ran his hand along the wall until he found a light switch. In an instant the room was illuminated, but the lights did little to lessen the dull, drab feel of the place. The walls were unpainted and unadorned save for a photo of an elderly woman smiling benignly. Two shoddy armchairs, of the same style as those found in the resort's rooms but showing much more use, sat in one corner before a small screen resembling a television. A few books and magazines were strewn about on the table and beds, and a stack of dirty dishes overflowed from the diminutive sink.

"Obviously men," Tegan said with a hint of disgust.

"They must be in the other room," said Turlough said, turning back to the door.

"There's another door," the Doctor pointed out, walking toward a small portal beyond the beds.

"Probably a bathroom," offered Tegan. "And not a very tidy one if this room is any indication."

"Not all men are slobs," Turlough chided.

Tegan rolled her eyes. "And I suppose your room at school was neat as a pin."

"Yes, it was. I kept all of my things in order—"

"Except your friends." Tegan's tone had turned scathing.

"He wasn't my friend—" Turlough began, his voice rising.

The Doctor had poked his head into the bathroom. Now he stepped back into the living room with a deep frown. His expression stopped his companions momentarily from their building argument.

"There's no one here," he said. "But there is blood in the sink."

Tegan paled. "How much?" she asked.

"Enough to show that someone has been hurt."

Turlough said, "The transmissions would affect them, too."

"Let's check the other room," the Doctor proposed gravely.

The second room was much larger, and several small lights glowed overhead. A variety of machinery whirred and hummed throughout the space.

"See if you can find any other lights," the Doctor instructed, squinting in the dimness as he looked about.

Tegan remained near the door, but Turlough moved away to feel along the walls. After a few seconds he said, "Here it is," and the room lit up brightly. He moved off toward the Doctor. "Have you found anything?"

His query was answered by Tegan's scream.