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Doctor switched on the transceiver he had found in the
ornamental wreckage. The Doctor, however, was less
enchanted than the childlike Sarns by the babbling
atmospherics that came from the communications unit.
We need more power, he muttered, wishing Turlough was
there to lend a hand with repairs.
Sorasta, who had been keeping an anxious vigil at the
entrance steps, pushed her way through the curious crowd
towards the stranger in the frock coat. Doctor! she called
nervously. The Elders are coming. There was a buzz of
excitment from the citizens who couldn t wait to see what
the old men thought of this self-confident alien.
Good, said the Doctor, hardly bothering to look up
from the dismantled components. I need to talk to them.
We ve a full scale exodus to organise.
When Moses came down the mountain to find the
Israelites dancing around a golden calf, he must have
looked something like Timanov as he strode through the
Hall of Fire towards the impious stranger who was
desecrating the precious relics. Seize the enemy of Logar!
shouted the white-haired patriarch. Arrest all
Unbelievers!
The Doctor got to his feet, beaming his cheery vicar s
smile. Look, we re here to help you. That volcano could
erupt at any moment.
Timanov glared at the supreme heretic. You must be
the Doctor, he hissed. It is the Outsider s wish that you go
to the fire.
The Doctor sighed. A lot of explaining would be needed
to get these superstitious people onto the rescue ship.
There is no Outsider, he began patiently. But Timanov
wasn t interested. He nodded to the Elders. The old men
pointed their staves at the enemy and the Doctor found
himself staring down the muzzles of five deadly laser guns.
A young rebel, unimpressed by a mere rod held in the
shaking hand of an elderly man, stepped forward to protect
the ally of the Unbelievers.
No! shouted the Doctor.
But he was too late. A ray stabbed at the young man who
fell lifeless to the ground. The crowd gasped at this terrible
new power. The Doctor stared, horrified, at the body of his
protector. Who could have explained to these
unsophisticated old men the violent purpose of their
regalia?
The crowds turned towards the entrance again:
someone else had come into the Hall. It was a tall, sinister
man in a black suit. The late arrival chuckled darkly.
Oh, no, said the Doctor quietly. The Master!
8
An Enemy in Disguise
The ship had split, on impact, into three parts. Two
sections had been so badly burned as to be unrecognisable,
but the third was easily identified as the flight deck.
Turlough stared at the shattered instruments and twisted
controls it was amazing that anyone could have lived after
such a crash. He walked across to the tail section where
Malkon stood gazing at the charred, half-dissolved
skeleton of the ship. Volcanic dust had collected in drifts
against the distorted bulkheads, some alloy in the hull was
slowly corroding in the sulphurous air and had bled a lurid
green and yellow across the superstructure.
This was your sacred fire, said Turlough to the young
boy. A crashed ship.
A ship, repeated Malkon thoughtfully. Did I really
travel from Trion in this?
Turlough nodded. He had tried to explain to his
companion as they hurried across the valley and over the
ridge into the forbidden land, that the mark of Logar on
his arm branded him a citizen of Trion. Turlough s own
home, not this planet of fire. It must have been
spectacular, he added grimly, thinking of the ship hurtling
in from space, red hot with friction, engines screaming
against the inevitable impact. He imagined the explosion
and the massive conflagration from which a baby had
crawled alive. A miracle indeed, but not quite as the
superstitious Sarns had interpreted it.
Where are the others? said Malkon.
Turlough had been asking himself the same question. If
Malkon had survived, why not the passengers or the crew?
Could they still be in hiding somewhere?
He moved to the clearing between the three hulks.
There was a circle of small stones, around which a few
ragged flowers brightened the scorched earth. Malkon
walked across to join the elder boy who was staring at the
ground.
Turlough?
Turlough turned roughly aside. He did not want his
new friend to see him weeping.
Peri was hopelessly lost. Doctor! Turlough! Anybody! she
wailed, desperately scanning the vista of clinker and dust.
She was cut and and exhausted by her terrifying scramble
down the side of the ravine, and hot from her trek through
the sterile valley. She was thirsty, she ached all over, and
she was very, very frightened. She held back another wave
of blind hysteria and tried to work out the direction of the
Doctor s blue box.
There was something on the horizon that was not made
of rock and lava. As she got closer, she could distinguish
girders, struts, a hotly of metal and she could have cried
with relief two human beings.
`Hey, Turlough!
A dishevelled Peri staggered towards Malkon and
Turlough as the two boys emerged from the shadow of the
wreck.
What are you doing here? said Turlough as the girl
collasped on the ground.
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