Waking up for the second time in a few hours, the Doctor found himself stretched out on a hospital trolley, free of any physical impediments but still paralysed. They had injected him with a strong drug - clearly he had another hour or so to wait before the drug was washed out of his system. Already his body was pespiring rapidly, trying to rid him of the foreign substance as quickly as possible.
Three Spectres in white masks approached his bed, followed by the one he had spoken to earlier, with the black band still around his head. The Doctor recognised that band as a symbol of authority, so was unsuprised when that Spectre spoke first.
"Doctor, we are severely disappointed. We had hoped to convince you that our mission was genuine, that you might break down the barriers in your head. That's why we gave you chances to come to us willingly, with those letters. Did you not wonder why we sent them? We wanted you on our side. But we are running out of time, Doctor. If you had not come we would have been forced to kidnap you. You know that if we enter your mind with those barriers in place, you will be rendered brain-dead before we can extract enough vital information, and it will be far more painful for you."
The Doctor was about to retort when he noticed that the drug did not extend to his mouth - he could speak - and that the Spectre was bluffing. He knew that Time Lord psycology is complex and almost impossible for other species to understand. With his mental barriers, he would suffer severe pain, but he knew the Spectres would be unable to enter his mind at all. That's why they were so desperate to appear genuine, he realised, gaining the upper hand. They needed his consent!
"Therefore, our council has rendered that action non-viable. The only option left to you, Doctor, is to submit. Break down your mental barriers - only you have the power. You can see that, can't you? Answer me, Doctor!"
The Spectre was getting desperate, the masked attendants looking on anxiously. Probably keen to impress the boss, the Doctor thought wryly. Well, he had no intention of agreeing to the boss' demands. And if he made it angry, so much the better. It would buy him some time, he thought. Time to find out how to get out of here, and to solve that mystery of the necessary herd race and why they were there.
No beating around the bush, thought the Doctor. "No."
"What? Is that your final decision, Doctor?"
The Doctor didn't know much about Spectre psycology, but he could see he was close to pushing this one over the edge, and since he was obviously in charge, he was interested to observe the consequences.
"Yes, it is. My final decision." he retorted defiantly, sticking his tongue out at them for good measure.
Infuriated, the Spectre made his final decision. Now it was pefectly clear. He had decided to take a huge risk - leave the Doctor in a room he couldn't escape from, and then target his weakness. He desperately needed to somehow get rid of the Doctor's mental barriers. He knew the Doctor was old now - he had lived beyond 900 years - so torture wouldn't work. No matter how much agony he exposed him to, the Doctor wouldn't crack. He was clever enough to use his hate to further strengthen the fortress of his mind. But Genesis knew the Doctor well - they had studied him for millenia. They knew the only way to get at him was to get at his pet species - the human race, and his companian with them. If he sent the entire army as an invasion force to destory Planet Earth - and he knew it had to be the whole army; the Earth was very well defended against aliens now - there was a chance the Doctor would be so devastated he would give in. He would stop trying to hold up his mental barriers. It was a small chace, but all he could think of doing.
And if he did try to escape - well, the drug injected into him earlier had a special substance mixed in, unknown to the Doctor. Sort of like a dormant cyanide. It would be activated the minute he left the planet's atmosphere, killing him within ten minutes. Bits of Time Lord splattered all over the universe. Whopee, thought the Spectre. He had had quite enough with the Doctor. He was more trouble than he was worth. But one thing was for sure - Spectres did not like failure. He knew he would never stop trying. He'd had quite enough with universe domination, but he was still just as determined to get the Doctor if he possibly could.
The Spectre turned away from the Doctor and began pushing buttons and flicking switched on a wall console. Unnerved by his lack of response, the Doctor attempted conversation, but the Spectre ignored him completely, speaking instead into a walkie-talkie.
"Send all troups - yes, every single unit. This needs to be perfect. Destination: Earth. And seal the Ante-chamber. Quarantine the entire Genesis office."
The Doctor spluttered, "But... you can't destroy Earth! They don't deserve it - whatever I've done to you is my responsibility. Please. Don't do this. And how can you quarantine this building? You're sealing yourselves in!
"Oh, are we Doctor?" The Spectre fingered the black headband he wore. They would come back after the Earth was destroyed to see the impact on the Doctor.
"Say goodbye to Ms. Tyler - when we attack Earth, we will make sure she is the first to suffer..." With that, the Spectre pressed a button on the band and he and all his servants vanished.
The Doctor slumped against the wall and slid down it onto the floor, his head in his hands.
"Rose..." he sobbed, so quietly it was impossible to hear.
It was then that he heard a voice, echoey and distant, but clearly audible.
"Theta."
