The Doctor stood and stared at the two wires, hearing nothing but the thunder of his own hearts in his ears. Here was the chance to destroy his greatest enemy, forever - but was it necessary? Was it right? Wouldn't he be just as ruthless and evil as the Daleks themselves if he was willing to destroy them as a species?

In the distance, he heard the faint sound of cheering. The Peace Accords ceremony must be over, the Elite would be filtering back into the Bunker. He had to choose. He had to decide.

There was another sound, closer. The sound someone might make desperately humming through their nose, if they could not speak. If they were-

The Doctor paused, then took two steps out into the corridor, and looked down it, past the entrance to the incubator room. There waited a squad of the Security Elite, and standing before them was one of the Laboratory Assistants, her arms crossed and eyes bright with interest. Harry and Sarah Jane were there as well, held by other guards who had their mouths covered, preventing them from warning the Doctor.

"Well?" the Laboratory Assistant asked. "Will you destroy them?" There was almost a smile on her lips, as though his actions either way would be nothing but amusing to her.

"No." The Doctor's voice was firm, but his body slumped a bit as he lowered his hands to his sides.

"No? Why not?" she asked.

"Because it's no use," said the Doctor, coiling up the wires in despair and then ripping them free. "Because all information has been backed up off-site, according to Gharman. Typical Reflectionist strategy. And that means all information, including the Daleks' genetic source codes, and their embryos. You must have some other incubation room tucked away."

"Clever." Then she spoke to the guards. "Take him!" The Doctor was tackled from behind, and he disappeared under a wave of black uniforms.

# # #

Gharman was sitting at his desk, excitedly deleting things from his project schedule to make room for a new series of decontamination tests, when Davros rolling up. He was holding a sheet of paper in his outstretched hand.

"Gharman, I require the Elite's full attention to the project outlined in this report," said Davros.

"But Davros, the Thal information-"

"Can wait. This project is to be initiated and completed at once. All necessary personnel are to be assigned to it, with maximum priority."

Gharman was ready to protest, but instead obediently bent his head and read the paper. When he looked up, his face was a startling contrast between a furrowed brow and broad smile.

"Davros," and then he was stuck for words. He swallowed, and said, "If it's true, I-"

"The tests must be as complete and thorough as possible. I expect only perfection from the Elite, and you have not failed me in the past. Do not fail me now. The specimen is being prepared for transport, see that the operating theatre is open." Davros spun and went on distribute his other orders. There was delicate machinery to be brought out of storage and calibrated; there were power safety-checks to be initialised. A surgical team to be put on alert and instructed by the Red Hexagon. And meetings that could not wait.

# # #

Councilman Than and the Doctor were standing in a dimly lit room in the Bunker.

They really didn't have any choice about standing; both were chained to rectangular metal frames by their wrists and ankles. There was an empty frame to the Doctor's right, with restraints already attached.

Than started struggling with his bonds again, futilely, and the Doctor said, "Save your strength."

"For what?" Than almost spat. "Do you know where we are?"

"Hmm ... not the cafeteria, probably not the art gallery either. Recreation perhaps?" guessed the captive Time Lord.

"This is the Bunker Interrogation Centre. All this equipment," Than jerked his head at the machines lining the walls, "is to extract the truth from prisoners, by drugs or by pain. There is equipment that can inflict the most terrible tortures while never breaking the skin - but that's not what these frames are for. This is for the Mechanicals series. It's very messy."

The Doctor looked around as well as he could, and said to himself, "Well, I suppose it would qualify as recreation for some people then." He wondered if this was where J29A had died – the first time.

Behind the two captive men, the sound of the door opening was combined with an 'OOF!' as though someone had just been kicked in the stomach. There was a dragging and a clattering, and the sounds of several men apparently fighting with someone, probably a prisoner. The people wrestling with their captive made quick commands to each other.

"Watch his feet!"

"Ah!"

Finally the prisoner was brought into view and pinned to the waiting frame by Security guards. The Doctor had been ominously afraid that it would be Harry, who was a dab hand with his fists and might not have gone along quietly to his cell with Sarah Jane. But instead it was the person he least expected to see as a fellow prisoner.

It was Security Commander Nyder. Somewhat the worse for wear – uniform rumpled, hair and glasses awry. His gun belt was missing. Bruises stood out bright on his neck, and the Doctor wondered what other marks might be hidden under his clothes. Nyder kept silently struggling until the manacles and ankle chains were in place, and then just stood in his bonds, panting through his clenched teeth. The guards left.

"What's happening out there?" asked the Doctor. Nyder was silent, ignoring him, lost in his own fury. The door behind the prisoners opened again, and there was a faint mechanical whine. The Doctor knew at least one of the beings that had just entered the room.

The Dalek came into view first, smoothly gliding into position facing the Doctor, on his left. Then Davros appeared, and Nyder lunged against his chains.

"Release me!" he snapped. Davros took no notice of Nyder's demand, and took his own place squarely in front of the Doctor.

"Davros?" asked Nyder, uncertainty creeping into his tone.

"The prisoners will be silent," ordered Davros, and Nyder leaned back in his chains. His expression was blank, but in his eyes was a hint of fear.

Davros' hand touched one of his switches, and the door opened again. Booted footsteps, light on the tiled floor, came closer, circling around the prisoners. And from the shadows, a woman with a familiar face emerged.

She wore a black Security uniform, with a red hexagon stitched on her collar instead of the eye-and-lightning insignia. A plain red armband was bright on one sleeve; she bore no other marks of rank. She came forward and reached for Nyder, and he drew his face aside as best he could in his bonds. Ignoring the motion, she carefully arranged Nyder's glasses straight upon his nose with her gloved fingers, then stepped back and stood at Davros' side.

Councilman Than's face was twisted with disgust, as was Nyder's. The sight of a woman wearing a Security Elite uniform was offensive; that it was one of the strange women who had just turned their society upside-down was full of unpleasant implications.

"Abomination!" hissed Than.

"Whatever she is, she isn't Security Liaison," said Nyder, taking what comfort he could from the thought. "I killed that one myself."

The woman looked at the prisoners coolly, then rolled up her sleeve and showed them the bandages underneath. Burn wound bandages, wrapping all the way up her forearm. She smiled thinly at Nyder's expression.

"My apologies, Commander," she said. "Never trust a neural reset switch that you haven't installed yourself. You should have broken my neck under your heel when you had the chance." Nyder snarled silently with rage; Security Liaison answered with the subtlest of sneers, as though to remind him how it was done.

Ignoring this interplay, Davros announced, "We will now begin this justice review. Councilman Than. You are guilty of the attempted assassination of the Kaled Supreme Commander, that is to say myself."

Nyder's eyes jumped to stare at Than with murderous intent. Security Liaison's eyes were just as cold.

Davros continued, "A full recording of the event was captured by Security Liaison, so there is no need for further questioning."

Than was sweating, lips trembling, too frightened to speak.

"There are certain questions that the Daleks have about the limits of the Kaled nervous system. Questions that they wish answered while directly monitoring the test subjects, as they were unable to do before they were mobile. Questions on endurance. Limits. Resilience."

"Pain," added the Dalek, in its mechanical rasp. "We have many questions about the limits of pain."

"And they require experimental subjects. Subjects that can be tested to destruction. Congratulations Councilman, your life and death will go to advance the cause of science. Have him taken to Laboratory Three."

As soon as the Security men appeared, Nyder tried to catch their attention – but they both looked away from their Commander. Than was blubbering without words as they dragged him out. The Doctor was rather hoping that the Dalek would leave too, but instead it stayed, its eyestalk focussed on the two remaining prisoners.

The Doctor was getting a close-up look at criminal proceedings under Davros, and he didn't like what he saw. Than had attacked Davros, and therefore it seemed Davros had the authority to decide his punishment. The Doctor had been caught about to blow up the Dalek incubation room (leaving forever behind him whether or not he would actually have done it), so that probably meant that the Dalek would decide his fate. And Nyder?

"Ravon and Nyder are a separate case," said Davros.

Security Liaison drew herself up. "Two separate cases. General Ravon has suffered Level One brain injuries as the result of a gunshot at close range. We can stimulate the growth of neural tissues, but the personality that remains will never form a new whole. Unless those tissues are imprinted with a part of the Reflectionist pattern-matrix. With that, he may return to a self, but not the same self. General Ravon, as the person known as General Ravon: that man is dead."

She stared at Nyder, all her attention focussed on him. "This man is not." Her voice was cool, but behind her back her hands clenched and writhed, expressing the emotions that her face hid.

Security Liaison and Nyder locked gazes. Hard. Then he snapped, "I have committed no crime and you have no right to treat me as a criminal! And I demand to face any charges in a military court!"

"You have no rights except as I give them," said Davros. "You are guilty, Commander, of editing an audio recording of a meeting of the Red Hexagon, then using that altered recording to deceive me into trying to destroy them. When Security Liaison tried to inform me of your treachery, you attacked her." Security Liaison ostentatiously touched the back of her bruised neck at those words. "You are furthermore guilty of launching an armed assault within the Bunker, on Bunker personnel, believing that you were attacking the Kaled and Thal Councils during a peace ceremony."

Nyder's eyes glazed with shock. "I was acting under your direct orders. You and I listened to the original recording together." He flung his words at Davros. "You ordered me to edit the recording, to attack her, to attack the Council! I was following your orders!"

"There are no records of my giving the orders-"

"You!" interrupted Nyder, shouting now at the stolid woman in front of him. "You were there!"

She blinked. "I can testify that I did not hear Davros specifically order you to attack the Peace Accords." Which was true, of course. "Fortunately, we had proactive security measures in place, that you were unaware of."

"It is your word against mine, Commander, and I am in command here." Davros rolled forward. "You are to be handed over to the Red Hexagon. They will decide the appropriate punishment for your betrayal, of them and of me."

"So that's why you didn't send the Daleks to wipe out the Council," Nyder said to Davros, slowly and with emphasis. "Deniability." He felt real fear for the first time, at the knowledge that he was not going to be rescued from his current predicament by Davros. Then rage, as he looked at the woman who had stepped into his shoes. Or boots. Perhaps literally, for all he knew.

"The first time I ever saw you," he said to Security Liaison. "You, the first of you, the one who was J29A. I saw you and I thought, How did she get in here? How have I failed Davros? And now I know," he concluded bitterly. "I failed when I let you live."

Security Liaison stepped closer yet, so that only the prisoners could see her face. Davros could lip-read almost as well as Nyder, but from this angle he could not see. She looked up at the Commander and mouthed silently, You never failed Davros. He failed you.

Nyder's own lips tightened, and he looked away. He missed the look of grief that washed up over her face and then retreated, but the Doctor did not. Her eyes met the Doctor's for a moment, and then dropped.

She stepped back one neat pace, and came to attention.

"Commander Nyder. We, the many and the one, have decided your punishment. I suggest you make peace with your heart, even if you can make no peace with us."

She reached out again, and touched the bruises on the side of Nyder's neck. This time he did not bother trying to flinch away. "Who did this?"

Nyder stared her in the eye and said, "Lonrie."

"Ah. Lonrie. Still upset over that little decontam procedure. Perhaps another one would reverse his upset." She tilted her head, and the Dalek's communication lights flickered; it must have been broadcasting to the Bunker communication system, because two guards entered the Interrogation Centre.

She told them, "Take the Commander back to his cell. Before you release him to my - to the Red Hexagon, let him rest and clean up. He shall not go to his fate like that." A sharp gesture encompassed Nyder's exhausted and generally dishevelled appearance.

Davros turned his chair away, not bothering to watch as Nyder was unchained and taken from the room. Once the door had closed behind them (Nyder looking over his shoulder at his former master, even at the last), Davros turned back and spoke.

"Doctor, your crime is against the Daleks. It amuses me that they will determine your fate."

The Dalek rolled closer, as though examining him. The Doctor stared back at his oldest enemy.

"The Doctor," the Dalek intoned. "An alien. You came here from another world to work in opposition to the Daleks and their creators. You have spoken against us. You have acted against us." The Dalek's gun twitched upwards, pointing at the Doctor's chest. "You have said that we shall become evil, that we shall leave Skaro and cross all space and then all time, to conquer and destroy. That we shall be cruel, ruthless, pitiless monsters."

The Doctor said grimly, "I have seen it."

"You believe there is a future where we shall destroy all rational life except for the Daleks."

"I believe that you would do it," the Doctor replied.

The Dalek went on, "The Reflectionists have given us some knowledge of that future, and theories on how to change that future. We require a cross-reference, to determine the validity of their information. You will tell us everything you know about the Daleks of the future. Everything must be revealed to us! If you do so, you and your companions will be free to leave this planet. If you do not give us the information we demand, we will consult with the Reflectionists on how we can extract the information from you."

The Doctor could imagine it: the neural network like cold tendrils eating through his brain, squeezing him open, letting them enter his mind directly and take his knowledge and personality. Or maybe they had a Reflectionist here who could directly absorb his knowledge psychically through that grotesque feeding known as telepathgestion. And what would happen to Sarah Jane and Harry?

"You will be taken to see your companions before you decide," said the Dalek, as though reading the Doctor's mind already. "Their welfare depends on your answer to our demands. Security Liaison, take him to them."

# # #

As the Doctor was shoved back into his cell (so far as he could tell, the same cell he had originally been imprisoned in), he was delighted to see Sarah Jane and Harry anxiously waiting for him. They reached out and caught him as he stumbled and turned.

Security Liaison paused at the door, snapped, "And this time stay put!" and threw something at the Doctor's head; he ducked and it passed over him, to strike the wall with a sharp clacking noise. The door slid closed, and Security Liaison was gone.

What she had thrown was stuck to the wall; it was small and red and - hexagonal, of course.

"A magnet?" asked Sarah Jane. The Doctor reached out to touch it and Sarah grabbed his arm and said, "No, don't move it!"

"Why not?"

"Don't you see, it looks like one of their lock buttons. And it's stuck to the wall of our cell, where we know there is a door out, somewhere. It's got to be some sort of a signal, a key to help us escape!"

"Hang on, now they want us to escape?" asked the totally confused Harry.

"Why else put us in this cell?" asked the Doctor, carefully feeling around the wall in the vicinity of the magnet. He pressed his palm flat against the red magnet, leaned - and with a muffled bonging noise, the wall of the cell folded backwards and revealed a smooth dark stone tunnel.

"Time we were going, I think," said the Doctor, ushering his two companions inside and closing the wall behind him.

"I say, that is tricky," said Harry admiringly, swinging his coat over his shoulders. The Doctor had already put his long brown coat back on, in preparation for the outside.

"We've got the Time Ring, why don't we just leave?" asked Sarah, moving down the dark passage. From the darkness, the Doctor answered.

"We need to warn the Thals about the Daleks. If they know in advance what a terrible threat they are, they can launch a pre-emptive strike, or insist on shutting down the Bunker as part of the peace process. The Thals are the universe's only chance!"

Once they were out into the caves, they moved slowly, feeling their way along the irregular floor with their feet. It was Harry who said "Shush!" at the sound of something moving ahead of them.

A hunched figure shuffled towards the bars covering the entrance, and moved them aside with a sweep of one arm. At a faint sound from the caves, the figure turned and stared back, and some angle of the light let the three escapees see his face.

"Sevrin?" asked Sarah.

"What?" said the Muto. "Who's there, how do you know me?" A white streak in the dark resolved into the smile of the Doctor, with his companions.

"Oh," he said, "I know you. You're the travellers. Are you leaving the Bunker too?"

"They let you in the Bunker?" said Harry, surprised; he had thought the anti-Muto sentiments he'd seen in the Dome would certainly be in effect in the Bunker as well.

"They, well, not the Kaleds, the Daughters, they did. They did this!" and he gleefully waved his heavily wrapped arm at them. At their blank looks, he undid the heavy cloth, revealing clean white bandages around his arm, and patches of bare skin between them.

"Look, it's fingers! And a thumb! My whole arm, it was all bone inside before, stretched out. I couldn't grip, could barely carry, it was next to useless. The Daughters operated on me, dissolved the bone somehow, I don't know. And sealed up my skin."

"Sonic disintegrators," said the Doctor, carefully turning Sevrin's new hand to the light. "The only surgical incisions necessary were to remove excess skin."

"It's wonderful!" Sevrin beamed. "A miracle!"

"Well, yes, yes it is Sevrin." The Doctor clapped him on the back as Sevrin re-wrapped his arm. "I'm glad for you, very glad, but I wonder if you could do me a favour? My companions and I have some very important information, necessary to the peace process, which we need to bring to the Thal government. Could you show us the way?"

"To the Thal Dome?" Sevrin frowned, then turned and stepped through the doorway of the cave outside. The travellers followed.

Outside, Sevrin stood in thought. "The Wastelands are terribly dangerous, especially at night. But right now, with all the machines being put out, the light things-"

"Particle fountains," said the Doctor.

"Yes, those frighten away the animals, and the other things. There are places along the edge of the Wastelands, that aren't so dangerous. The Daughters have been bringing food there, plus surplus tents and blankets. Most of my people have already left, so we shouldn't meet any other Mutos. And all the Kaleds and Thals are back at their Domes. So, yes, yes I could show you."

# # #

It was a journey they had taken before, but while the land was the same everything else had changed. They picked their way over the strangely silent battlefield, passing the remains of war machines and skirting blast craters ragged with shrapnel. It would have been impossible to travel in the dark, but the night was not dark: scattered here and there were the churning lights of particle fountains, merrily burning away radiation.

The paths themselves were occasionally marked along the edges with red stripes on the ground, and they could see that the green X's marking the land mines or dangerous routes glowed in the dark.

"Bioluminescent paint," murmured the Doctor, examining a rock daubed with the stuff before moving on.

The silence was broken on occasion by distant bangs, or the rumble of equipment, or high-pitched feminine laughter carried on the wind. They came across fresh holes in the landscape, where land mines were apparently being located and harmlessly (they hoped) detonated. At one point they all stopped, crouching in a trench as a series of figures in gas masks trotted by, long black hair swinging.

"UXB squad, I presume," said Harry.

They knew they were coming closer to the Thal lines when the fungus started to appear: great white splatters of the stuff, growing into puffy billows like earth-bound clouds. They could feel the heat coming off in waves, as it furiously converted ground soil contaminants into harmless elements. Some of the fungus puffs was crowned with great fibrous spirals, that the Doctor surmised were to spread fungus spores via the wind. The fungus mounds kept off of the path that Sevrin had chosen, fortunately; the black glittery powder sprinkled along both sides of the path might have something to do with that.

Finally, Sevrin stopped and drew them close. "This is as far as is safe," he said. "The Thals don't like having Mutos close to their city. If you follow this path, you should get past their sentry patrols and almost up to the Dome itself. I've heard there are paths underneath the Dome, tunnels, but I've never been in them."

"You've done us a great favour, Sevrin. Goodbye, and thank you for all your help." The Doctor and his companions moved on, following the rough path.

As they vanished into the gloom Sevrin stood looking after them. "Did I do the right thing?" he asked as though to himself.

"You did what we asked," said the figure that has just stepped to his side. He flinched and crouched, but rose up when the woman took off her gas mask and shook out her dark hair.

"Yes, we were watching you. You guided them safely, just as we asked. Thank you." She smiled and took his newly functional hand in a soft grip. "Come, the Daughters have cleared a new route to the settlements. It's much faster than the old way."

The two of them walked away, and the mists rolled in behind them.

# # #

In the Bunker, Security Liaison was walking down a corridor. Her posture, her manner, were exact imitation of Nyder's. And if her eyes were a bit redder than was usual for an officer on duty, nobody dared to comment on it.

A concealed door opened in the wall as she passed, and a woman's voice said, "Esselle?"

She stopped.

"It is time, Esselle," the voice continued.

"I know," she said, and stepped into the doorway, which closed behind her. Leaving no sign that she had ever been there.

# # #

The travellers moved through the pre-dawn dimness, until they heard the sounds of voices. Then they headed towards them.

The Thal sentinels were anonymous figures bundled up in filthy military gear, helmets low over their faces. As the travellers came close, they heard one Thal say, "So the third recruit comes out and says, This gun's loaded with blanks, I had to beat her to death."

"Excuse me," said the Doctor, "could we get directions to the Thal Dome entrance, please?"

Without a word, the Thal pivoted, pointed his long rifle at the Doctor, and pulled the trigger. There was a click, but no bullet. Before they could even flinch in surprise, he reversed his grip, took the rifle by the barrel, and clubbed at the Doctor with the stock. The Time Lord jumped aside, and cried out as the blow was deflected painfully from his shoulder.

"Beat her to death," said the sentinel, moving forward smoothly, "beat her to death, beat her to death, beat her to death."

"Stop!" screamed Sarah, and the other Thal came for her, rifle raised as a club. Harry had jumped the Thal who was after the Doctor, but the soldier shrugged him off, ignoring his blows. He kept moving in a straight line after the retreating Doctor, striking again and again. Harry fought to stop him, futilely.

"Beat her to death," said the second Thal, aiming a blow at Sarah's head. She ducked, clawed at the ground, and flung a handful of mud into the guard's face, covering his eyes. But he kept moving forward, blindly chopping downwards at the ground in swift sweeps, the blows whistling through the air as he swung faster and faster. Sarah had to move backwards, crawling awkwardly, watching the blows sink deep into the mud as she twisted and avoided them.

The two Thals kept chanting as they attacked. "Beat her to death, beat her to death, beat her to death." Harry was down from a blow to the stomach, and the guards stood over the Doctor and Sarah, weapons raised to strike the deathblow.