The Master headed blindly down the confusing corridors, hoping he would find the lobby eventually. Suddenly he heard hurrying footsteps coming his way. Soon Orenn, Lynedd, and Rikkir came around a corner. All three froze when they saw him.
The Master had to fight to hide a smile. The women were dressed in shorts and halter tops that would probably be rejected by a quilt-maker. Lynedd was dressed in as accurate a copy of the sixth Doctor's outfit as the Master thought he'd ever have the misfortune to see.
The only scarf in sight was on the Master.
Lynedd pulled Orenn and Rikkir behind him protectively. He faced the Master and said coldly, "I thought you'd have been executed by now."
"No, as you can see, I received a last-minute reprieve. But thank you so much for your concern," the Master replied sardonically.
In frosty tones, Orenn said, "If you're looking for the way out, it's along that corridor." She pointed back the way they had come. "We are on our way to the Council Chamber and we're in a bit of a hurry, so if you will step aside and let us pass ..."
The Master stepped back politely. They went by as quickly as they could, making it clear they wanted nothing more to do with him. Thoughtfully, the Master watched them go.
There was certainly going to be an interesting scene in the Council Chamber very shortly. He was sorry he wouldn't be there to witness it. Despite the Doctor's attempt to put the people of Yyrikk back along a path of their own making, the Master was willing to bet that in a short time there would be conflict among the "Dangling Scarvers" and the "Bad-Tasters" - a kind of demented haberdashers' civil war.
What these people really need is a strong leader to tell them what they want and to keep them in line ... The Master stopped himself before he could complete the thought. He had given the Doctor his word. He continued along the maze-like corridors in the general direction Orenn had indicted, fervently hoping she hadn't sent him the wrong way on purpose.
But it wasn't too much longer before he reached the lobby. He looked around and smiled with self-satisfaction. Sure enough, there were already several people dressed in quilt-crazy clothing. A group of citizens wearing the ubiquitous dangling scarves stood together, talking excitedly among themselves. The Master could feel the change in the air as he crossed the lobby of the Capitol Building.
The guards standing near the doors opened them and held them open in a most pointed manner as he approached, watching him like a hawk. "Don't worry," he said to them, "I'm as anxious to leave as you are to have me go." As he crossed the threshold, though, he looked back wistfully. It would have been hearts-warming to see just one person dressed in black from head to foot before he left.
The Master stepped outside the Capitol Building into the bright sunlight. Squinting a little, he got his bearings, then headed down the main street in the direction of the TARDIS. Soon he was walking along the dirt highway he had been following when he had impulsively accepted the ride from Lazarrn. He was quickly lost in thought.
His holiday hadn't exactly turned out the way he planned, but he was leaving more or less of his own choice. That was a first! Of course, he did spend some time in jail with a death sentence hanging over his head, but he did not need to be on holiday for that to happen. Then the Doctor had saved him, and that was nothing new either (much as he hated to admit it). Basically, if he had tried to take over the wretched planet from the start, he might have gotten the same results!
Suddenly he became aware of the sound of a carriage approaching from behind. The driver pulled up alongside him. "Lovely day," he said, tugging at the reins to slow his horse.
The Master was overcome by a strong feeling of deja vu. "Lovely day," he replied. It was almost automatic by now.
The driver smiled at him cheerfully. "Would you like a ride? I'm heading towards Formmin."
If there was one thing this little holiday had taught the Master, it was never to accept unnecessary rides! "Thank you, no," he replied. "I'm enjoying the walk." And that's what I should have said the first time!
"Suit yourself," replied the driver pleasantly. He drove off, surrounding the Master in a cloud of dirt which billowed up from the unpaved highway. It took the irritated Time Lord quite a while to brush the dust from his once-immaculate clothing.
He had never been so eager to get back to his TARDIS before, not even when he was fleeing from pursuers with blood in their eyes! It would be quite some time before he would consider taking another holiday. He lengthened his stride - the sooner he got off this miserable speck in space, the better.