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Tahir answered, from somewhere behind her. 'Of course not! They were never there in the first place. That's just an old fairy tale - and this is all some trick of Benari's people.'
Catriona nodded. Tahir's voice had broken the spell, brought some sense of reality back into her head. 'What your son says is a lot more likely, I'm afraid, Sakir Sakir,' she said.
Mohammad turned away from her, spat onto the ground again.
'It is not a fairy tale,' he said, looking from one to the other of them.
'And I only hope that neither of you will have the misfortune to find out that you are wrong.'
He walked away towards the tents, leaving Tahir and Catriona staring at each other in the light of the dying fire.
Two.
'Well,' said Mike Yates. 'How do you like my new office?'
Jo Grant looked around her. The office was tiny, even for UNIT HQ. A lightweight desk, four feet by three, with a chair behind it; another chair in front of it - which barely left enough room for the door to open; a single filing cabinet crammed against the wall, with a card index perched on top. A small window showed a clump of ragged daffodils twitching in the March wind.
But still, it was nice to be home, Jo decided. She'd had enough alien planets to last her a lifetime.
'It's lovely!' she said. 'I'll bet you're pleased with it!'
'Well - yes,' said Mike. 'It almost feels like promotion.' He smiled for a moment, then sat down behind the desk. 'Actually -' He paused, his voice a little uncertain.
Jo glanced at him in surprise.
'Actually, the Brig asked me to have a word with you about the Doctor.'
'The Doctor?' Jo frowned. What had he done to offend the Brigadier now? They were always arguing, and she didn't seem to be able to stop them.
Mike picked up a pen and began flicking it from hand to hand.
'You see, I'm not sure - the Brig's not sure - whether he's really working for us any more.'
Jo stared. 'But of course he is! He's here, isn't he? Really, Mike, how could you possibly think that he would leave?'
Mike shrugged. 'Since he got the dematerialization circuit back you two have spent more time away from UNIT than you've spent here.
The Brig says you've only been on the premises for about five days out of the last two months.' He paused. 'Let's face it, Jo. The Doctor's free to go anywhere he pleases now. And that's exactly what he's going to do.'
There was a short silence. Jo stared down at the desk top, saw a large, glossy black and white photograph, with a travel guide to Kebiria on top of it.
It was true, she realized. With his temporal powers returned to him, the Doctor could go anywhere - anywhen - he wanted to. He didn't have to answer to the Brigadier, or anyone else.
But she didn't want it to be true.
'The Doctor's in the lab now,' she said. 'He's working on something.'
'An improved navigation system for the TARDIS, I gather,' Mike rapped out. He sounded quite angry. 'Using our facilities.'
'He's got every right to use your facilities! Just look what he's done for you! Really, Mike -' Jo could feel her cheeks flushing with anger.
Mike dropped the pen on the desk, looked up at her. 'I know that, Jo, but it's just that - well, I don't think the Brigadier would admit this, but we felt a bit defenceless while you two were away.'
'Defenceless?' asked Jo, bemused. She sat down in the chair opposite Mike. 'I don't understand.'
He picked up the guide to Kebiria, began tapping the photographs with it. Jo noticed that, even though it seemed to be a perfectly ordinary Collins' guide, someone had stamped the words 'TOP SECRET' on it. The photograph was similarly stamped, and showed a rocky surface, grey on grey. A red circle had been drawn around a large dark shape near one of the corners.
'If anything like the Nestenes or the Axons came again,' Mike was saying, 'we'd need the Doctor's special skills.' He grinned at her suddenly. 'At any rate, that's the way the Brigadier puts it. "Need him to save our bacon" might be more like it.'
Jo nodded, stood up, began pacing the small s.p.a.ce between the filing cabinet and the far wall.
She knew that Mike was right. The Doctor was going to wander in s.p.a.ce and time, now that he could - he was still talking about going to Metebelis 3, even after all their adventures failing to get there over the past few weeks - and, just as surely, he was needed on Earth.
There had to be a compromise. Something that would keep everyone happy.
She looked around the tiny office, hoping for inspiration. The metal filing cabinet - the card index, open at the letter 'D' - the strip lamp overhead - She bit her lip.
The phone rang.
Mike picked it up. 'Captain Yates speaking.'
Yes! That was it!
'A phone!' she said aloud. 'If he put some kind of phone in the TARDIS - or some way of leaving a message - '
'Who is this?' Mike was asking.
'Even if he didn't get the message straight away,' Jo went on, half to herself, 'he could travel back in time to answer it.'
'I'm afraid I can't speak to reporters, Miss Talliser. How did you get this number?'
'Or, at least, I think he could,' mused Jo quietly. Surely the Doctor could do anything now that the Time Lords had unblocked his mind.
She perched herself on the edge of Mike's desk, tried to get his attention. The phone conversation didn't seem to be very important.
'Captain Deveraux has no authority to reveal -' Mike was saying.
A loud objection crackled from the receiver.
Mike's face changed. 'Oh. I see. How -?' He picked up the pen from the desk top, pulled a notepad towards him. Jo stared, transfixed by the expression on his face; he looked ten years older, almost middle-aged.
'I see. Yes. Gilf Hatar.' He began scribbling notes on the pad.
'Looked like -?' There was a long pause. 'Yes, I'm sure they were. It must have been -' He began sketching something on the pad; it looked like a football with arms. The voice at the other end talked rapidly, loud.
'Of course. We'll send a team at once,' said Mike Yates at last.
'Look, I'd appreciate it if in the meantime you could keep this off the record. I can guarantee you an exclusive when it breaks. Is there a number -?' He scribbled something on the pad, then put the phone down.
Jo slipped off the desk, sat down in the chair again. 'What's wrong?'
Mike didn't reply directly, instead stood up and walked around the desk to the filing cabinet.
'His wife's name is Helene,' he said, and walked back to the desk with a card in his hand.
'Mike -?' said Jo.
He looked up at her. 'I've just lost one of my men,' he said quietly.
Jo looked away. 'Oh.'
'I'd tell his wife personally, if I could, but she lives in Geneva. I've got to get on to our people there, have them send someone round.' He paused. 'There are two children.'
'That's awful.' She looked up at Mike, put a hand over one of his.
'I'm sure he died bravely.'
It was Mike's turn to look away. 'I don't suppose he had much choice, Jo,' he said, still quietly.
Jo removed her hand, stood up. 'Look, I'll talk to the Doctor about what you said. I'm sure I can get him to carry on helping you.'
'Thanks, Jo.'
She turned to go.
'Oh, and Jo -' She turned back, saw Mike holding out the guide to Kebiria and the photograph. 'When you see him, get him to have a look at these, and -' he opened a drawer, pulled out some more photographs '- these, too. See if he can make anything of them.'
Jo took the sheaf of doc.u.ments, left the office. As she closed the door she heard Mike asking the switchboard operator to get an international line. She wondered what it was like to have to tell someone that their husband had been killed in action. She wondered how many times Mike had had to do it.
Then shook her head. No use getting morbid. She set off down the corridor towards the lab, holding the photographs under her arm.
On the way she flicked open the guide to Kebiria, ignoring the 'TOP SECRET' stamp reiterated on the flyleaf and t.i.tle page. By the time she'd reached the lab, she'd learned that Kebiria was a former French colony given independence in 1956; that two thirds of the population were Muslims and the rest Christians, the latter mostly Catholic and French-speaking; that the country was divided into a fertile strip of Mediterranean coast, and a thinly populated 'desert hinterland'. She'd also collided with the wall at least once, and almost knocked over Sergeant Osgood as he emerged from one of the offices.
The lab door was open, so she walked in. She saw the Doctor, standing near one of the benches with a strange expression on his face. Almost as if he were frightened - 'What's wrong, Doctor?' she asked.
But he ignored her, didn't seem to see her, just kept staring at a corner of the lab near the TARDIS. Jo turned, saw the Brigadier - The Brigadier, with a gun in his hand - The Brigadier, pulling the trigger - The gun flashed, bucked in his hand.
Jo opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
She saw the Doctor stagger, blood staining the pale green frills of his shirt. In the corner of her eye, the gun flashed again - - silently - - and the Doctor fell, fresh blood running down his velvet jacket, more blood jerking from his mouth. He twitched a few times and was still.
'Doctor!' shrieked Jo, running forward. She saw the Brigadier walking past her, pushing his gun back into its holster. 'Brigadier!'
But he ignored her, stepped out of the lab door. In the doorway, Jo saw something - Someone - a girl - A girl's body, with blood leaking over the straw-blonde hair, staining the blue T-shirt - Her T-shirt - T-shirt - Her body - body - She started screaming.
'Jo!'
The Doctor's voice. She looked up, saw him striding across the lab, clean of blood, wearing his purple velvet jacket and magenta shirt. He reached down, put both arms around her.
'Jo! It's all right! It's only an image!'
She looked down, saw the Doctor's body once more, blood pooling on the floor. It still looked real, but as she watched, it blurred, lost its colour and depth, became more like a projection. Static washed over it and it vanished.
'But Doctor, I was so frightened and I thought it was real and you were dead and the Brigadier had killed you and - '
The Doctor patted her back.
'All right, Jo, all right. We're not in any immediate danger, I can a.s.sure you.'
'I should hope not, Doctor.' The Brigadier's voice. Jo jumped, twisted her head around. He was standing by the TARDIS, swagger stick under his arm. Jo noticed that he wasn't wearing his gun holster.
'I certainly don't have any intention of shooting either you or Miss Grant, now or at any time in the future.'
'Of course not!' said Jo, detaching herself from the Doctor. Her heartbeat was beginning to return to normal. 'What was it, Doctor - a sort of 3-D television?'
The Doctor shook his head. 'No, Jo, I'm afraid it's a lot more serious than that.'
She frowned. 'But then - '
'It's something that's actually going to happen to you and me, at some time in the next few weeks.' He strode across the lab, bent over a collection of flickering lights on the far end of the bench.
'But Doctor -' began Jo.
'Doctor, it's quite ridiculous -' said the Brigadier at the same time.
The Doctor ignored them, prodded at the apparatus. 'Unfortunately, it doesn't look as if I'm going to be able to get a fix.'