While the Master was touring the Capitol Building, the hospitable Yyrikkites prepared guest quarters for him. Rikkir now escorted the Master out of the Council Chamber and a short way down a corridor. When she stopped and opened a door, the Master was pleased to see that his room was quite close to the Council Chamber. Excellent; he wouldn't have too far to go when he went back for the Temporal Regulator. Unwittingly echoing the thought, Rikkir said, "We are giving you a room close to the Council Chamber. These corridors can be very confusing." The Master smiled at her, enjoying the private joke.
The room they entered was small but comfortably furnished. There was a bed, a writing desk and chair, a dressing mirror and a chest of drawers. Another copy of the Doctor's portrait from the Council Chamber hung on the wall above the bed. The Master stared at it sourly. Fortunately he did not intend to remain overnight; he would never be able to sleep with THAT hanging over his head. Bug-eyed idiot, he thought uncharitably.
Rikkir went to the gas fixture and turned up the lighting. As the room lightened, the Master was able to see in more detail. On the bed lay a long, gaily colored scarf. He picked it up and looked at Rikkir questioningly. She smiled at him. "Lazarrn thought you'd like one."
The Master barely restrained a shudder. "How very thoughtful of him," he said.
Rikkir stepped back towards the door. "I'm sure you're tired. Perhaps you would like to rest before the evening meal."
"Tell me, Rikkir; what are you and the other Councillors going to be doing before dinner?" The Master made his question sound casual. "I should hate to miss any state proceedings."
"We six Councillors come from all over Yyirikk to be here," Rikkir explained. "It is customary that we rest after we arrive. We shall all be in our rooms. If you need anything, just ring the bell by the bed and a servant will attend you. Orren will come by to fetch you for dinner, which is in three hours."
"Thank you so much," he replied. "Three hours should be more than enough time ... to rest."
"Sleep well, Master." Rikkir bowed slightly and left the room.
The Master hefted the scarf thoughtfully in both hands. Wearing it actually would make him much less conspicuous on the way back to the TARDIS after acquiring his new spare Temporal Regulator.
With that thought, the Master stood before the dressing mirror, winding the ridiculously long scarf around and around his neck until the dangling ends no longer reached the ground. All he needed was to trip on the idiotic thing during his escape. He admired himself in the mirror - the scarf looked much better on him than on the Doctor, of course. He flicked a speck of lint from his immaculate black velvet clothing and strode purposefully toward the door, the dangling scarf ends fluttering behind him.
As the Master reached for the door handle, the door swung open. Reserakk stood on the threshold with a gun in his hand. He prodded the Master back into the middle of the room, pressing the primitive weapon firmly into the Master's chest.
"Reserakk, what do you think you're doing?" the Master demanded. He was more annoyed than worried. He knew he could handle this young hot-head easily.
"I'm very sorry, Master; I have nothing against you," Reserakk replied. "But you say you are a friend of the Doctor, and this planet needs no more reminders of him. Your visit will have the effect of reinforcing the old ways on the people. I cannot allow this; not when we are so close to great changes. I must insist that you leave Yyrikk immediately."
The Master was not going anywhere without his Temporal Regulator. "Reinforcing the Doctor's influence was not what I had in mind when I came here."
"I find that hard to credit. I believe that Morvva and Lazarrn hired you to pretend to be a friend of the Doctor. Their influence is fading; my election proves this. I represent those who are not convinced there ever was a Doctor. We believe the Doctor is a bed-time story created in the past to keep people contented with their backwards lot in life."
"Believe me, Reserakk: there was and is a Doctor. But he himself has changed quite a bit over your last 150 years. I know he would not approve of the arrested development on Yyrikk any more than you do." Reserakk looked intrigued.
The Master decided to keep him talking. "Tell me, how did this stagnation come about? I take it nothing has changed since the Doctor left, except that the population has adopted some of his more…flamboyant mannerisms?"
The gun was starting to drift towards the floor. "Yes, it is said that no one on Yyrikk had ever seen anyone like Doctor before."
"That I can well imagine," the Master interrupted drily.
"Our ancestors were quite taken with him and his ways," Reserakk continued.
"So I observe."
"Then, according to our history, after the Doctor helped us, we asked him how he liked our planet. 'Very nice' he said, and so our leaders have felt ever since that we should not change a single thing because the Doctor approved of Yyrikk the way it was."
The Master nodded. "But you think this is changing now?"
"It is only recently that even the mildest of opposition has been tolerated. I am the first person elected to the Council in generations who is openly against the status quo. I tell you, any reminder of the Doctor will ruin everything I am working for."
"Reserakk, I sympathize with you completely. The Doctor certainly can be a meddlesome, interfering fool."
"I thought the Doctor was your friend," Reserakk said suspiciously.
"Well, we have had a minor falling out. Be that as it may, though, I have never been nearly as enthralled with the Doctor as are your fellow Councillors. Now listen to me, young man. You must trust me. I am the Master and you will obey me. You will obey me."
Reserakk had no defense against the Master's hypnotic technique. "I must obey."
"Give me your weapon." Reserakk handed over the gun.
The Master could have killed Reserakk right then and there, but he hesitated. Reserakk's revolutionary tendancies reminded him a bit of himself as a youth. Anyway, who could blame the young man for wanting to change a society based on the Doctors hare-brained ways! "Go now, Reserakk. Go to your quarters and take a nap until dinner. When you awake, you will remember nothing of this little incident." Reserakk left the room.
After a few minutes, the Master looked out into the corridor. It was empty. He moved furtively down the large hallway to the Council Chamber doors, which he opened cautiously. The chamber was vacant. The Master slipped inside the large room and shut the heavy doors quietly.
As the sturdy doors closed behind the Master, Morvva and Lazarrn came around a corner in the corridor. Morvva was saying "... didn't think you'd mind my rousing you. You don't come nearly as far as the others, and I was hoping you wouldn't be too tired to accompany me."
"Not at all," Lazarrn replied. "And of course, when you said you thought you saw a crack in the reliquary glass - well, we must look into this." They continued in measured paces toward the Council Chamber.
The Master had to smash open the locked reliquary to get to the Temporal Regulator. A quick examination confirmed that it was in perfect condition, and he was actually slipping it into his pocket when the chamber doors opened and Lazarrn and Morvva entered. The two Councillors gaped in in disbelief at the broken reliquary.
"What are you doing?" Morvva demanded, appalled.
"This isn't what it looks like," the Master said. He fixed them both in his compelling glance. "You must believe me. You must believe me."
If only one man had entered the room, the Master might have had a chance; and in fact, Lazarrn looked like he was already falling under the Master's hypnotic spell. But Morvva was outraged. They had trusted this man totally and look how he repaid them! Before the Master realized what was happening, Morvva charged him. Suddenly, the Master's hands were tied behind his back with the trailing ends of his own scarf and Morvva was holding the Temporal Regulator reverently in his hands.
"Lazarrn, get the guards," he said harshly. Lazarrn left the chamber quickly.
Gingerly brushing aside shards of glass, Morvva set the Temporal Regulator gently back in its place next to the jellybaby. "You know that the penalty for what you have done is death," he said coldly.
"But I don't want this for myself," the Master protested. "I happen to know that the Doctor needs it back. I was planning to return it to him."
"You did not tell us this before," Morvva said. His tone of voice was not encouraging.
The Master put on his most sincere manner. "I saw how attached you were to it and I was afraid you could not bring yourself to part with it. So I decided to take it; and then I was going to leave and give it to the Doctor."
The Master could see that Morvva was not convinced. The story didn't sound too convincing to the Master, either. It was certainly not one of his better efforts. One day on holiday and I've lost my touch already, he thought ruefully.
Lazarrn returned with several guards, who immediately surrounded the Master and grabbed him roughly. Looking hurt and upset, Lazarrn motioned to the guards.
"Take him to the penal wing."
"Wait!" The Master struggled with the guards as they dragged him towards the doors. "What are you going to do?"
Morvva gestured and the guards stopped. "The first order of business on our agenda tomorrow morning will be to tell our fellow Councillors what you have done. The second will be to draw up an order for your immediate execution." He gestured again and the guards hustled the Master out of the Council Chamber, protesting the purity of of his motives all the way.