The Buccaneer Chronicles:

Dreaming on the Spires of Immortality

First Edition

by Andy Simpkins

http://www.StaggeringStories.net/

This is the eighth story of The Buccaneer Chronicles first series. Other eBooks in this series, and more besides, are available free from the Staggering Stories website.

This eBook is copyright 2010 to Andy Simpkins and is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 licence (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/).

“I stood in this unsheltered place, 'til I could see the face behind the face. All that had gone before had left no trace...”

“Sometimes, when you look around,
everything seems still and calm on the surface,
and then you detect a little disturbance,
and you know for sure, that underneath the surface,
lies some other.....secret world....”

Peter Gabriel, Modena, Italy, 1993

Chapter One

“This cannot be happening? Is this some sort of illusion or fantasy?.” thought Macfadyan as he screwed his eyes shut after taking a hesitant look at what surrounded him. “I should be asleep in my quarters on the TARDIS but here I am… in this place…”

He opened one eye to see if his surroundings had changed but, to his horror, what surrounded him stayed in place and did not drift back into the realms of his troubled imagination.

Drawing a deep breath, he opened both his eyes fully and looked upon the unearthly panorama which surrounded him.

He was standing in the middle of a desolate plain or meteor crater, he wasn’t too sure. Gazing slowly around at the topography of the landscape, in the distance, tall pillars of granite and other stone thrust their way into the sky. In the distance on his left hand side stood a range of hills and low mountains; their edges harsh and jagged and not touched by the gentle hand of natural erosion. On his right hand side, the caldera of where he stood stretched off into the distance towards a perfectly clear horizon, punctuated only by more of the crags that dotted the barren landscape.

“Steel pillars clawing at the sky… the endless games played in the timeless zone.” he said out loud with a nervous edge to his voice, as the half remembered song lyrics came to mind. He said the words to reassure himself and to keep the all-pervasive silence at bay. However, all was not silence when he happened to glance upwards at the sky.

Macfadyan could not help his jaw from dropping as he looked upon the spectacle that was before him in the heavens above and stood rapt as he saw the sights that few men were awarded with in their lifetimes.

He was rewarded with the view of a night-time sky previously unseen by Human eyes. Stars were thrown across the coal-black sky like a handful of diamonds casually strewn across a piece of sack-cloth. Crowding out the pitch black sky, they showered the landscape with their glow; varying magnitudes of stars jostled for space in a sky that to Macfadyan's sight, seemed to clamour for his attention.

“I must be somewhere near the Galactic Core. But whether it is the Milky Way or a completely different galaxy, I cannot be sure…” He mused idly. It was then that he looked down. Apart from the sight of his feet dressed in their normal knee-length black bucket boots, the ground underneath his feet was grey, dry, arid and had the texture of fine dust or powder.

Nothing organic had lived here or ever would. This planet was a stillbirth of nature that would never have life in any form grace its surface. He took an experimental jump and landed on his feet in less than a second.

“Ha!Gravity’s still working then.” He said with a nervous cackle.

Only when he looked down did he see the dust that had been disturbed by his landing billow away from under his feet in eddies and vortices in to him what seemed like a slow-motion replay. A cold sweat started out on his forehead and he wondered:

“Where in Time’s name am I? Nothing here appears to follow the natural laws of science and physics…”

However, all of this paled into insignificance when he saw the spectacle that was present when he lifted his eyes once more towards the zenith. Directly above his head was a sight that was well documented but rarely seen by space-faring races. Approximately the size of a saucer held at arms length, a White Dwarf star hung in the sky, spitting prominences and faculae out into the surrounding sky. Even from this distance, he could hear the faint crackling and spitting that the star made as the internal fusion reactor that was its core still kept the star ticking over for millennia to come yet. By rights, Macfadyan should have been shrivelled and burnt to a cinder or given an almighty dose of radiation poisoning that demanded a thick layer of lotion with a sun protection factor of 3 billion. But as he stood there alone on that barren and lifeless plain, he felt nothing but a pleasant warmth on his body. This star was not alone, however, as it had a companion. Many millions of miles away from its neighbour but visible only by the stream of matter that it sucked, leech-like, across the miles to gather in a swirling eddy around it was the mathematical impossibility of a black hole. The titan of the universe was literally draining the life from the white dwarf as he watched.

Sure, the white dwarf would last for millennia to come but the black hole would eventually be victorious, reducing the star to a shrivelled husk of cold hard rock.

“By rights, I should be desiccated, burnt, shrivelled or reduced to small pieces of bloody flesh in a mad flurry of explosive decompression! I am stranded here, alive and well, in an airless, lifeless barren alien wilderness. Even in the midst of life, we are in death…” Macfadyan said out loud.

“Never a truer word said!” came a low and husky voice from behind him.

Macfadyan whirled around in surprise to confront the sight that was before him. Twenty feet away on the arid and lifeless plain was a sumptuously upholstered leather chaise-longue and reclining on it was a being he knew immediately. The being could take on any physical form it desired and at this moment in time, it had assumed the form of a woman, dressed in a one piece figure hugging jumpsuit, wearing high-heeled calf-length boots and had thick black wavy hair framing a face that could have been anywhere from 21 to a 101 in appearance. It was hard to say as the woman's facial features were in shadow no matter the way Macfadyan looked at them.

“Greetings. my lord Macfadyan. How dost thou fare this day?” She said with a half smile playing over her blood-red lips.

Even though he felt the hackles rising on his back and an empty pit open in his stomach, he put on his best patronising manner and said coldly and without preamble: “I am very well, Milady, although at a loss to explain why I am here. Please tell me why you have called me into your presence…”

The Lady looked around her, drinking in Her surroundings and nodding absently to Herself as though they met Her approval.

“I thought it was about time we had a little chat… An audience if you so wish to call it. I have been watching your progress with great interest and I wanted to call you here so we could chat further about what has passed and what will come to pass.”

She sat up on the chaise-longue in one supple movement; like a cat that had been slumbering peacefully and now had sprung to attention with all its senses attuned to the world around it. She smiled at Macfadyan and patted the space on the chaise-longue next to Her in a clear indication that he should sit beside her.

He reluctantly sat down next to The Lady. Even though there was a pleasant temperature in the air surrounding them, he felt a distinct chill emanating from Her.

“I thought it best to call you to this place. Call it a compromise between My realm and yours and a comfortable enough place to converse.” She said, airily waving a hand around to indicate the surreal landscape surrounding them.

“I wish you could have called the decorators in before you decided to call me here. I do so hate shabbiness…” said Macfadyan in an attempt to add light to what was becoming a very dark situation indeed.

The Lady chuckled throatily. “You know all too well who I am. I have been here since The Beginning and will be here until The End Of All Things.” She shrugged and continued: “It is the way of all things that Creation begins, exists and ends. I administer to all of this…”

“You must realise that you are only one part in the cycle of all things!” said Macfadyan with sudden vehemence “Look around you and what do you see!?A cosmos swarming with life and sentience a-plenty. There is Order and a reason for all of this!” He said, jabbing an angry finger in The Lady’s direction.

She sighed heavily and spoke as to a child who needed to be taught a valuable lesson. “My dearest.” She sighed. “You sentients. You have to perceive order and progression in all things that you witness and experience. I must point out to you that all of this is a sham. Despite what you see, there is a natural progression towards disorder. It is the natural…order…of things.” She chuckled at the irony that her last sentence contained.

Macfadyan could only sit and glower at Her as She continued:

“It is the way of all things that there is a natural slide towards dissolution. Order is just a smokescreen and an excuse that you sentients throw up to defend yourselves from the obvious: that the universe will end in howling oblivion despite your best efforts to the contrary.” She paused for a moment to inspect the perfectly manicured and painted nails on her hands.

“And what is your place in the Grand Scheme of Things? We all have to choose sides. Who or what do you stand for?” said Macfadyan, his patience wearing thin. He shifted uneasily on the chaise-longue but remained seated.

The Lady did not reply at once but stood up in one limber movement and strode sensuously around the chaise-longue until She was standing behind Macfadyan. She leant over and slid Her arms around his neck and with a half-smile playing across Her face, unfastened the top two buttons of his shirt so She could slide Her hands inside to caress his skin, feel the warmth and life coursing through him and to feel his hearts beating beneath Her touch.

“My Love, ” she whispered hoarsely in his ear. “You must realise that there is no such thing in the Universe as Order and Chaos. These things are as labels that you see fit to hang upon natural events. I merely stand above such things. I am but the natural conclusion to all things…”

Without warning, her face contorted into a feral snarl as she racked her fingernails across his chest, leaving bloody gouges in their wake. Macfadyan grunted with pain but otherwise remained silent..

“You fool!! I could have you snuffed out of existence in an instance if I so willed it.!”.She hissed in his ear. Her manner changed back and She was all honey poured over ice once again. “You must realise, my love, that you have a large and important part to play in my overall plans. I can but only admire the work that you performed on Catharcerous and you added many souls to my entourage. You are capable of so much more and that is why I am so enamoured of you.”

Striding around the chaise-longue until She was in front of him. She placed Her hand under his chin and gently urged him to get to his feet. Once Macfadyan was standing in front of Her, She reached up and slid Her arms around his neck and pulled him close. Putting Her face close to his, She murmured: “I am in so much need of you to be my aide in my pursuits. I beg you, my love. Be my lover, be my fool, be my….Champion!” Her breath was sweet on his face but had an underlying odour of decay and corruption.

“I can give you so much if you are willing to be my servant.” She whispered. “Absolute power… infinite wisdom…” Her hands snaked around the back of his neck and she pulled his head closer in an attempt to kiss him.

Macfadyan snapped his head to one side at the last moment. To have those lips touch his would mean all these things at the awful cost of the thing that he treasured most: his mortality.

“My lady, this is a very tempting thing you offer me but I do have a streak of altruism running through me that cannot be ignored. I need to have a physical presence to correct all the wrongs that are so prevalent in the universe these days. You have your place in the natural scheme of things and I accept that, along with the billions of souls you have clasped to your bosom. I thank you for your offer but it is one I must decline.”

He bowed slightly from the waist after he had said this statement in a gesture of acknowledgement.

He grasped hold of Her slender wrists and pushed Her away with a little too much force that he had wished for. She tripped and sprawled out on the ground; a mixture of rejection and admiration playing across Her face.

“Very well, my love. You reject my offer at this moment in time but I am sure that I will entice you eventually.”

She climbed back onto the chaise-longue and propped Her hand under her chin and looked at him pensively.

“On a parting note, my sweetheart. I appreciate your sentiments in this matter. There have been few who I have offered this gift to in all of the span of existence and all have refused. To help you in your decision, I will leave you for a brief while in the company of those who spurned my offer and also of those I have called into my presence through the progress of natural decay. I am sure they will help you in making your ultimate decision.”

She waved her hand at him in an ironic gesture of parting and said: “Farewell for the moment, my Lord Macfadyan; my toy… my fool… my star-crossed lover!! Until we meet again…!”

The last sight he saw, before the ground opened up beneath him, was the sight of Death, sprawled back on Her chaise-longue, laughing maniacally up at the dark and uncaring sky….

He fell through a reddish brown roiling mist, his hair and coat streaming out behind him. As the wind whipped around his face, he looked around him to see a multitude of faces pressed up against the mist in a vain attempt to break out of its confines. On their faces were looks of terror, madness, hatred and a host of others. Most of them, however, had wide staring eyes and mouths that were screaming out a single word:

“Macfadyan!!” …a plea.

“Macfadyan!!” …an entreaty.

“Macfadyan!!” …a curse.

And their hands, reaching out for him, beseeching him, imploring him, clawing at him, clutching at him… clutching… clutching… clutching…

Chapter Two

Macfadyan sat bolt upright in his sweat-sodden bed, a hoarse scream ripping its way out of his throat. He looked around himself, temporarily disorientated whilst racking sobs tore through his entire body. After a while, he fell back on the mattress, all the time holding the sheets up to his throat, like a frightened child reassuring itself that there was no monster under the bed. Despite thinking this, cold logic told him that the monster was very real and one that he could not escape. A dying man’s last words sprung unheeded into his mind

“…He is beloved of the Dark Lady…”

Macfadyan tried to get back to sleep but it was impossible. Every time he closed his eyes, the insane echoing laughter of Death would creep into his ears and the insane faces he witnessed would peer through him and into his soul, not liking what they saw. In a matter of moments, the dream, that had seemed so real, was a rapidly fading echo of what it once was until it settled into a disquieting memory. After an hours tossing and turning, he threw back the bedclothes, got up and splashed some water on his face from the sink in the bathroom adjoining his personal quarters. Hastily throwing on some clothes, he made his way to the control room. He had an unaccountable desire to be around people at that moment and he craved the company of his shipmates.

He entered the control room to see Blanche, Colin Curtis and Cre’at excitedly talking amongst themselves as they looked at an image on the viewscreen.

Blanche turned around at hearing Macfadyan enter the control room. A delighted smile lit up her face and she rushed over to him to usher him towards what the others were looking at on the screen. Macfadyan was too preoccupied with his own thoughts until he noticed Blanche tugging excitedly at his jacket sleeve.

“Bucky! Bucky! Come an’ ’ave a look at this. This is a sight to see. ’Ere we are in E-space an’ we find ourselves ’ere in the strangest of places.”

Macfadyan shook his head slightly to dispel the last lingering images of the dream and peered down at Blanche who was looking up at him with an excited, expectant look on her young face.

“Very well, child, I will see what it is that has you all in its thrall. Lead me to the viewscreen and I shall see if it is worthy of our interest…”

Blanche lead him to the viewscreen and he peered closely at the sight that was presented to him. What he saw was a cityscape like none that he had seen before. Tall, almost cylindrical towers thrust their way into a star-speckled night sky. They were a uniform dull steel grey in colour and were connected to each other by a series of walkways and gantries. There were very few windows in them and what ones were present, only a few had illumination coming from them.

He could see no vehicular traffic and no air-borne craft to speak of but he did see a few pedestrians on what could be loosely described as the streets. They were humanoid in appearance but, in contrast to the bustling streets of the many planets he had visited where people milled about, stopped to converse with friends or just ambled about to take in the view, these inhabitants all had one thing in common; they all walked with a quick, almost furtive pace, pausing only long enough to cast worried glances around them. It was as though these people were living in the shadow of a dormant volcano; one which could erupt at any moment and he could almost sense a palpable sense of relief as one of them darted into a doorway of what he presumed to be their home dwelling. It was somewhat akin to a broadcast he had seen once when he was on Earth. What he had seen was a documentary about the gazelles of the vast plains of the Serengeti. They too, lived their lives out on the savannahs but they were ever watchful, knowing only too well that predators were not too far away and that death, in the form of slashing claws and teeth gripping their throats, was only the blink of an eye away.

As he was studying the view on the screen, Colin Curtis had walked over and stood by his side. He was a tall, lean man, with dark brown hair in his late thirties who had spent most of his adult life in the armed forces until he was recruited by UNIT and sent on this, his most important mission, to accompany Macfadyan and his colleagues on their travels through the endless regions of time and space.

He was dressed casually in a white shirt, immaculately pressed slacks and brogues. He was wearing a thin cotton jacket and if one looked closely enough, one could see the slight bulge under his left arm where his ever-present service pistol reposed in its holster. He had reluctantly discarded his off-duty garb of khaki shirt, trousers and combat boots in favour of more civilian garb at the urging of the rest of the crew but, despite their continuing entreaties and pleas, had retained his side-arm. He had laughingly said he needed to keep it near him “…just in case of emergencies…” but when he was in the company of The Buccaneer, emergencies were never too far away…

Chapter Three

The TARDIS doors whirred open as they stepped out. Immediately, they pulled their coat collars closely to them as the mist had a chilling, enervating quality to it and swirled around them almost sinuously and malevolently, like a snake looking to twine itself around them and constrict the life out of them. Behind them, the TARDIS, its chameleon circuits in a rare state of repair, had turned itself into a writhing tendril of mist, indistinguishable only by the fact that if you looked at it from a certain angle, certain patterns in the mist formed the shape of a parasol. Nodding to himself in satisfaction, Macfadyan tugged his collar up and pulled his coat around him.

“Well Bucky, where to then?” said Blanche

“I would suppose we should head to the area where there are the most concentration of people. That way we can find out where the ruling governmental body, if there is one, can be found” He replied primly.

Macfadyan shuddered inwardly as he strode down the mist-shrouded thoroughfare with his colleagues. He cast glances around him at the citizens who hurried by, only casting furtive glances at the newcomers, and occasionally shaking his head. He could not shake off the strong impression that this place was strongly familiar to him in some strange, unfathomable manner.

More than once, one of the party would try to ask a passer-by what this place was but they were all greeted by indifference or barely concealed hostility. Most of the populace would just turn away with a barely muttered and vague response.

Shrugging his shoulders. Macfadyan, like the rest, trudged along with his collar up, surrounded by the ever-present and soul-draining mist. His thoughts clouded and as bleak as the cityscape he occasionally glimpsed through breaks in the mist.

Curtis would glance around him, a scowl on his face and his eyes ever-watchful for threats, seen and imagined, sensing danger in ever corner and his hand never strayed far from the pistol holstered under his arm. He had only just lived through the Sontaran Incursion in Jerusalem and his nerves were still raw. He had lost a lot of good men that night, either through combat with the invaders or those who had suffered a more horrible fate, sucked through a spatio-temporal portal to die an agonising death in the lightless, airless void of inter-dimensional space.

Blanche felt a little more comfortable, finding some solace in the fact that the curling mist was reminiscent of the fog that used to permeate the streets of Cheapside in the East End, her former home in Victorian London. There, the mist was both an ally and a foe. One could either find a hiding place in it to hide from the pursuing policemen or it was used as concealment for members of rival gangs of footpads and purse-snatchers, ready to jump out in an instant and rob you of your valuables, or your life with a deft slash of a razor across your throat....

Cre'at hovered along beside the members of his party. His photo-optic receptors could see in most wavelengths of the spectrum normally but he sensed that something was blocking the extreme limits of his senses. He had spent many years as a companion of The Buccaneer and any planet and alien vista they came across came as a delight to the senses after spending many years serving in the Scientific Function of his home planet of Sotus. Escaping the highly regimented and stratified society, albeit at the instructions of his superiors who wanted the secret of time travel for themselves, 'he' found the wanderings and travels stimulating and more than made up for the knowledgeable but stultifying existence he had left behind on his own planet..

All of a sudden, each of their personal reveries were shattered as a blood-curdling scream came from an alleyway only twenty yards from where they were. As one, they glanced at each other and then, footfalls clattering on the ferro-concrete beneath their feet, they rushed to find the source of the cries.

Seeing a dim shape in the mist, Curtis shouted:

"Over here! The assailant is still with his victim. Hurry!!"

As one, they turned and ran in the direction of the shouts. Through the mist, they could see the vague form of someone hunched over a body lying prone and unmoving on the cold ground. His head whipping around at the sound of the approaching party, he quickly stood up and beat a hasty retreat into the enveloping shroud of the mist.

Whipping his pistol out of its holster, Curtis made after the assailant. Many years in the army had made him lithe and fit but try as he could, Curtis could barely keep up with the attacker, who was always just that little ahead of him as they raced through the streets and back alleys of the city. Even though he fired a warning shot in the air, the mysterious attacker showed no signs of slowing or turning around to surrender and admit his culpability .

Cursing expansively and breathlessly, Curtis had to stop and slump over to regain his breath while the object of his pursuit, seemingly effortlessly, made his escape.

Making his way back to the rest of his party, Curtis said somewhat annoyed:

"I cannot understand it. He was like a man possessed. I have seen long distance runners in action but to run at that speed and for that duration, he must either have super-human stamina or be under the influence of some sort of narcotic..."

Angry at having to admit that he had lost a suspect in pursuit, he hawked and spat on the pavement and crouched down on his haunches, glowering with annoyance at himself.

Blanche was taken aback. The man she had known for some time on the Buccaneers TARDIS, normally so authoritative yet easy-going was displaying traits she found unsettling. It seemed to her that the all-pervasive air of melancholy and frustration that this placed seemed to emanate was starting to touch them all. Even Macfadyan, normally cheerful and ever-optimistic, was morose and taciturn, given only to uttering terse sentences when circumstances dictated.

Hovering over the supine body on the ground, Cre'at scanned the body and said:

+Despite numerous cuts and wounds, the victim is still alive. He should be, in theory, responsive to some degree but it seems that he is some sort of self-imposed semi-comatose state. I must confess that I am baffled by this, as this should not be happening...+

A frown creasing his brow, Macfadyan crouched down and sat astride the supine body, a tall thin blond haired man in his early thirties. He started rocking him, all the while urging him to wake up so he could find out what had happened to him and what this increasingly disturbing place was.

Frustrated at the man's lack of response, Macfadyan grabbed hold of the man's shirt lapels and began shaking him roughly, all the while shouting:

"Wake up! Wake up, damn you!! Who are you and what is this place?Tell me!! Answer me!!"

Blanche and Curtis exchanged alarmed glances. Macfadyan, normally placid and tolerant, had turned into a raving maniac. All of a sudden, Macfadyan let go of the unconscious man's lapels, letting his head hit the tiles with a dull thunk, and began tapping the man's face with his fingers. These rapidly devolved into a series of open handed and increasingly hard slaps to the victims face.

Incensed by what he was seeing, Curtis decided on a harsh but necessary solution to a problem which was rapidly escalating out of control....

Macfadyan was only halted in his ranting when he heard a dull click and felt something hard and metallic pressed to the side of his head. Slowly turning around, his left hand raised in preparation for a blow that never landed, the first thing he saw was the business end of Curtis' service pistol, looming large and ominous in his vision and pointed directly at his face. Looking further behind him, he saw that Colin Curtis, a man he had only come to know recently and had trusted him in a fight and as an ally, was pointing the pistol at a spot directly between his eyes, a look of implacable and barely contained fury on his face.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't pull the trigger and end all your woes in a fraction of a second. What you are doing is completely out of character and I had to stop it. We need this man alive so we can get some answers and you were prepared to pound his head into the pavement!I would strongly suggest that you desist or else I will terminate you here and now, regardless of orders issued by UNIT!"

Slowly getting to his feet and all the while glowering with anger at Curtis, Macfadyan straightened up and tugged at his coat lapels in a gesture of casual defiance.

"Very well, I shall find out what is happening us at some other time..."

Glancing around and down at the still unconscious body lying on the ground, he turned around and faced Curtis.

Staring him straight in the eyes, he said icily...

" You may have stopped me from finding out the truth about our predicament but I will found out sooner or later. I do not forget easily and I certainly will not forget what you have just done..."

The two men stood there, momentarily frozen in a tableau of mutual loathing before they turned away. Curtis holstering his pistol and Macfadyan, having regained his customary composure, checked that his trousers were not stained from kneeling on the wet cobbles of the street.

Casting a glance around him, Curtis growled with suppressed annoyance:

"I would strongly suggest that we beat a hasty retreat from here. The assailant is long gone but, fortunately, his victim is still living and breathing. I will briefly tend to him to make sure he is comfortable as and when the emergency services of this planet turn up."

Blanche glanced around herself uneasily. The mist, clammy and ever-present, now seemed to be closing in and threatened to engulf and overcome her.

"I hate to tell you all but I think we should all bugger off back to the TARDIS and get the 'ell out of 'ere. We've seen too much, both of this place and of each other and it's scaring the livin' shit out of me..."

Everyone turned around and looked in her direction. If Blanche, normally so unperturbed by hostile situations, was becoming edgy and nervous, then is was a clear indication that they should retreat with all possible speed.

Sadly, that was not to be the case. All of a sudden and sounding unnaturally loud and clear in the muffling effects of the fog, they could hear multiple footfalls coming closer. Footfalls that signified authority and not above administering a little judicial pain and suffering by way of correction...

Emerging out of the mist, they stood there, nine hulking, menacing human shapes clad in heavily padded and armoured one piece jumpsuits, a helmet and tinted visor covering their undoubtedly bullish visages, the proctor captains of the city guard surrounded Macfadyan, Curtis, Blanche and Cre'at. Firmly gripped in each of their right hands was a metal tube, about eighteen inches long with a flared and open end. It purpose was all too clear:"Follow us or suffer the consequences..."

Shrugging inwardly, captive and at they mercy of forces they had yet to encounter, all they could do was follow...

Chapter Four

Through an almost unending maze of dimly lit corridors, they were guided by the proctor-captains of the city guard to an as yet unknown destination. The corridors were Spartan in decoration with only dimly glowing hemispheres set into the walls just above head height, giving off a wan green illumination, as though they were all in a thick forest or underwater. Stopping before a large set of double doors, the lead Proctor captain banged on it with the haft of his tube-like weapon. After a moment, the doors slowly creaked inwards...

"Like a haunted house scenario. All we need now is some lightning and a hunch-backed butler to bid us all welcome but tell us that his master his having one of his... affairs."

Blanche snickered under her breath and hopped a little to the right while Curtis took a small step to the left and then cast an amused and almost avuncular glance at her. The guard hefted his weapon threateningly at them both but otherwise did nothing else Macfadyan favoured them both with a sour look but otherwise kept his thoughts to himself.

At the end of the hall was a raised platform with a large and imposing bench on it, seated behind which were what the party assumed to be the council of this place.

Straightening himself up and looking his most haughty, Macfadyan, as the unelected spokesman for their group, took a few steps forward and he and the council appraised each other carefully and with great interest for a few moments.

"Old..old men..." thought Macfadyan."They carry their lifetimes like someone carries a heavy load..."

It was true. Seven men faced Macfadyan. Their faces lined and creased with the passage of innumerable years. Deep-set rheumy eyes looked out from underneath wrinkled brows at the young upstart who dared to invade their private heaven...or hell. Their hair was just a faint white mist framing their heads and their backs and bodies in general were bent and twisted like the trunk of a gnarled old tree. Clad in simple white robes and sandals, they regarded the party standing in front of them with a calm interest borne of many years of existence. Unspeaking and motionless, the impasse would have continued indefinitely if it had not been for the ire building up inside Macfadyan. Bristling with indignation, he began:

"Right, I demand an apology for this unwarranted detaining of my party...After all, we were just investigating an unprovoked assault on one of your citizens and we are arrested for no apparent...." blustered Macfadyan

Unfazed by his tirade, one of the council members got shakily to his feet and raised a trembling hand to silence Macfadyan.

His voice a sibilant whisper and yet amplified by the acoustics of the hall, the council leader spoke.

"We can only apologise for the clumsy and heavy-handed way you have been treated and the manner in which you have been brought before us. Our proctor captains are not known for their subtlety but they are a necessary evil in this place and at this time. We saw you coming from afar and our curiosity was piqued by yourselves and the conveyance you all travel in. You are so like us and yet so different and we wanted to have an audience with you...."

"We have studied you since you all first appeared and we are intrigued by you all. Your technology, alien and yet so similar to ours speaks of a race that we can sit and converse with as equals..."

Macfadyan looked at them askew. During his travels, he was very suspicious of fond welcomes and this did nothing to allay his fears. For all their seeming benevolence, he was yet to trust them.

"I am heartened that you welcome us, albeit at the point of a gun, to your city. My TARDIS has a mind of its own and would never knowingly deposit us in a place and time without a very good reason. I have come to know 'her', if you will excuse the anthropomorphism, and I suspect you have some ulterior motive for us being called into your presence..."

The ancient bowed his head in acknowledgement.

"You are indeed a man to be reckoned with. But please allow me to introduce myself. "He raised a shaking hand to his chest.

"I am Taarl, leader of the Group Of Seven and I suppose I could be called the nominal leader of this council. When we need to make a decision, it has to be made by majority rule but I suppose every organisation needs a public face and I am it..."

He smiled faintly at this remark and slumped back down in his seat, even fatigued by this simple action.

"You are indeed prescient in why you are here. We do need your help and we do believe that you have the tools and the technology to help us."

He leaned forward in his seat and gazed at Macfadyan with an earnest look on his lined visage.

"This city has been in existence for many millennia. Serving us and its people, sheltering us from the elements, but now, like us, it is showing its age and is faltering and even failing in some respects. Due to our isolation, both spacially and politically, we cannot look to any of the so-called civilised worlds in our vicinity and, to us, it seemed like Providence smiled upon us when your ship appeared in our neighbourhood. This city cannot last for much longer as it is beginning to suffer from a catastrophic loss of power and it is only days away from total loss of power. Can you imagine what that means. Our populace, already cowed and frightened, would lose control entirely. All law would collapse and this place would descend into an orgy of fear, pillaging, rapine and hysterical behaviour.

"Our carefully structured society would collapse like a house of cards, shortly followed by the ultimate destruction of this entire city!"

Macfadyan was taken aback at the sincerity of Taarl's statement but he still had an uncertain scowl on his face

"If it is true what you say, then why can't you go to one of the nearby worlds and ask for their help. I am sure they would be able to help you."

"That is very true but this city has been around for longer than you can imagine. To be honest, this city is held in awe by our neighbouring systems and due to this, they hold us in an almost superstitious regard, not of our making, I hasten to add, and are reluctant to approach us. That is why we are self-supporting and self-sufficient..." Taarl said, a look of mild distaste crossing his face.

"We are victims of our own publicity, it would seem..."

The frown that creased his already aged featured lightened slightly and he turned to look at the four travellers in front of him.

"I forget myself. You are honoured guests here and should be treated as such. Quarters have been prepared for you and you must be tired after your long journey. Please allow our proctor-captains to escort you there. We would very much like you to get some rest as we would be very interested in conversing with you all further...."

Stepping aside and waving a palsied hand in the direction on the double doors, Taarl and the other council members stepped aside so they could leave.

As they were escorted out by the burly and uncommunicative proctor-captains, Macfadyan cast a glance over his shoulder. Through the closing crack in the door, he could see the council huddled around in a circle, talking amongst themselves and casting covert glances at the departing party.

It was hard to tell but he could have sworn that Taarl had said to his colleagues in whispered tones:

"Yes, he is the one. He will help us with The Cause..."

Chapter Five

The cell, no, not cell, but could be defined as communal living quarters that they were ushered in to were Spartan but comfortable. A few sofas clad in a leather-like material were dotted around the periphery of the room and off to one side were sleeping quarters and bathing and toilet facilities. If any of the party were hungry or thirsty, there was a small but functional autochef unit built into the wall nearby.

Curtis strode over to the comm system; a simple vidscreen and command pad assembly, situated on one of the tables and switched it on. There was a flicker of static and a menu came up on the screen. News of the day, sport and entertainment were there but when Macfadyan leaned over Curtis' shoulder and suggested that they try looking for an information channel on the history and purpose of this place, they were met with the cold and forbidding message on the screen:

"THIS SERVICE IS UNAVAILABLE"

Macfadyan stroked his beard thoughtfully as he looked at the screen.

"Well, it would seem that our hosts are not in too much of a hurry to let us know about the purpose of this place. I do find this mildly perturbing but....."

He bent down to where Curtis was sitting and whispered:

"I don't know why but ever since we landed here, I've had this feeling of, well...call it deja-vu if you like. I have an ever-increasing sensation or feeling that I know this place or will know it at some time in the future. It is like something just beyond my vision or grasp, tantalising me but forever just out of my reach. This is troubling me for reasons I cannot yet explain. I know I have acted rashly in the past especially in that....incident....with the victim but I am sure you will agree with me in the fact that this place is not what it seems."

Keeping his voice to a murmur, Curtis replied:

I must admit that this place does have something of the nature of a dream about it. The people, their surroundings all have an air of unreality about them. If you were to wave your hand, all of this would be split apart and drift away like smoke on the breeze. Smoke and mirrors...that is the impression I get of this place. As for your previous indiscretion, allow me to remind you that although I have my orders to terminate you if your actions endanger Earth, I am also a shrewd judge of character, as befits my position within UNIT. You looked like you were about to kill that man with your questioning but I could also see that the light of reason had gone from your eyes. Something is troubling you deeply about this place. I cannot say I blame you as it looks like it is affecting the other members of our party."

Casting a sideways glance at Blanche and Cre'at, seated on a nearby sofa, who were, to all intents and purposes idly chatting to each other. However, every so often, Blanche would cast a nervous glance around her at their surroundings, as clearly troubled by their predicament as the rest of their party were.

Standing up, he announced to Blanche and Cre'at:

"Think it is best if we get some food inside of us and get some rest. Our...hosts...will have need of us in order to make repairs to their power systems in order to keep their city running. I will get the necessary tools from the TARDIS first thing in the morning."

"Colin and myself will arrange a meeting with the council to find out what they need in the way of materials. What we will need to supply from ships stores, what can be synthesised and what remaining power supplies, electronics and such they still have here."

Turning to Curtis and adding sotto voce:

"I am still not entirely sure what they want with us so I think it will be in both our interests if we do as they say for the time being. They have a genuine need for our help but for what ultimate purpose, they are being rather guarded about."

Curtis nodded grimly;

"If it's true what they say, we had better keep an eye out for trouble. The council may be the brains behind this operation but the proctor captains are definitely the brawn. I've seen too much of it in my time. Hired thugs in uniforms who keep the peace and keep everyone on the straight and narrow, at the cost of a few cracked skulls and broken noses..."

"Very well then. We will help these people but I cannot help but detect the faint whiff of duplicity from them but it is nothing I can. put my finger on at the moment. Ever more, I am getting a feeling of being in a place like this at some time in my past...or future. Everywhere I look, there is a feeling of familiarity that is growing stronger the longer we remain here. I am starting to become troubled by this. The ever-present feeling of foreboding is compounded by this and if we remain here for a prolonged period of time, I will become severely mentally disorientated by it, even to the extent that I may not be capable of piloting the TARDIS out of here...."

Curtis could say nothing to this but patted the pocket in his jacket where his pistol was.

"Don't worry. If all else fails, we will have to fall back on this unsubtle but persuasive means of getting out of here. Those proctor captains may be alright for keeping a trembling civilian in line but judging by their semi-simian appearance, they might be a formidable foe in close quarters combat but I doubt they have the stamina to carry a ball all the way from their half to score a try. They are all muscle and all glower."

Macfadyan looked pensive but said:

"Hopefully we wont have to resort to such primitive means of escape, Crumbly."

"That's Curtis!" he retorted good-naturedly.

Turning back to the others, he noticed that was Blanche was wilting visibly and displaying a series of jaw-breaking yawns.

" I dunno, I'm absolutely knackered, Bucky." she said between yawns."This place looks like its full of good-natured but dim marks so I might go and relieve 'em of some of their very heavy wallets in the morning.'Tis a shame I haven't got my blackjack on me. A friendly tap on the back of the head will make sure they 'ave a little snooze while I 'elp meself."

"You can't keep a good thief down..." thought Macfadyan, suppressing a smile."She's a good kid, even though she can't keep her hands out of other peoples pockets." A twinge of guilt passed through him as he remembered she was but a copy of the original Blanche, dead and forever unavailable to him, killed by his own folly...

Grimacing with grief at his inability to have saved her from a terrible death, it seemed so long ago, he cleared his throat and put his most pompous expression on his face. Turning around, he cast a glance in Curtis', Blanches and Cre'at's direction that he hoped would inspire them and raise their flagging spirits.

"Right, enough of this. Time for turning in and mustering our strength for tomorrow. We will be very busy helping the council and people of this place so we need to hit the hay now!"

Blanche, needing no encouragement, clambered onto one of the padded benches and was asleep almost immediately. Cre'at followed suit shortly afterwards. He merely hovered down and settled on a worktop nearby. The glow in his optic sensors died down as he set his internal power systems into standby mode.

Lulled by the faint hum of Cre'at's power systems as they idled over. Curtis lay on the bench, looking up at the ceiling. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a creased and dog-eared photograph.

Looking at it, he wondered if he would ever see, let alone hold the woman in the picture in his arms again. For all he knew, Jenny was either yet to be born or was as dust on the wind, so uncertain what time period they were in. Despite what the Buccaneer had told him about E-Space and the fact that time here ran concurrently with that in normal space, he could not help but feel a twinge of panic and sorrow at the fact that they may never get back to their home universe. With these thoughts tumbling around in his head, Colin Curtis, late of the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce, Earth, fell into an uneasy sleep.

Looking at his slumbering companions, Macfadyan could not help but feel a twinge of pride at who he had chosen, consciously or not., to accompany him on his travels. Cre'at, a mechanical life-form. To outsiders, cold emotionless and analytical and yet to him, a trusted companion who had displayed courage on more than one occasion and had helped him through difficult times, including a forced regeneration, which had left him vulnerable for a long time. During that time, Cre'at had stood sentinel over him, nursing him through his grief and guilt until had enough reserves of emotional strength to stand up and face the cold and uncaring universe for himself.

Looking around, he saw Curtis lying on his side on the padded bench, the ever-present crease between his eyebrows gone now that he was asleep and breathing softly now that he was temporarily relieved of the burden that was place squarely on his shoulders back on Earth.

"Even though this man is sworn to protect Earth from my actions, should that planet be endangered. I cannot help but trust and like this personable and friendly ex-soldier. Even though he is honour-bound by the constraints imposed upon him by his superiors, he does act with a considerable amount of autonomy that flies in the face of his commanding officers."

"He showed his mettle back in Jerusalem during the Sontaran Incursion and has proven to be a staunch ally ever since. He has broken free from the regimented ranks of ordinary soldiers and has proven that you can serve your country, an ideal or whatever abstract notions that are called into being according to whatever situations arise, and yet still hold faithful to such unalterable concepts such as truth, nobility of spirit, helping the downtrodden and giving the unjust a damn good beating..."

He smiled to himself at this though but his face momentarily contorted once again with sorrow and his vision misted over with suppressed tears as he thought about Blanche. A walking, conversing monument to his arrogance and vanity. A teenage child snatched out of time, killed because of his inaction and made into an endless repetition of herself..

Down in the depths of the TARDIS, safely sealed in cryogenic stasis tubes were thousands upon thousands of cloned copies of her. Endlessly replicated in order to be there for him as company on his travels but also serving as a never-ending stain upon his soul....

Sinking back on the bench in despair, he could only think to himself: "What have I done?... What have I done?..." as he fell into a troubled slumber...

Chapter Six

“Come along, old chap, it's your move!”

Macfadyan blinked a couple of times as he looked around himself at the scene that was playing out around him. He was in an office. That much was certain, with its corporately-decorated walls and a broad and imposing desk in front of him. He was seated in a black synthi-leather upholstered executives armchair that was slightly reclined, as though he was relaxing, at ease before making an important decision. He sat up and, raising himself slightly on the arms of the chair, looked out of the window at the cityscape in front of him.

Well, he was in a capital city on one of the planets in one of the major stellar systems of the galaxy. Procyon, Aldebaran, Sirius Major, he could not be certain. Gleaming spires of metal thrust their way into the night-time sky, brilliantly illuminated both from within and out. Punctuating the streets were illuminated advertising hoardings, showing wares both familiar and undiscovered to the casual observer. A multitude of things to be purchased, both human and alien were on display in all their garish glory for him to choose and advertised in neon, laser and particle and molecular manipulation. If he had been familiar with the Old Earth city of Las Vegas, it would have borne a faint similarity with the multihued and colourful display on the streets below.

A steady stream of wheel-less ground repulsor vehicles flowed by on the thoroughfares of the city, their sidewalks populated by a throng of sentient beings, both human, humanoid or completely alien. Looking upwards, the sky was punctuated by the blinking hazard lights of airborne personal transports, freight haulers going by on their business, and higher up in the atmosphere, shuttles on their pre-programmed courses up to the interstellar transports in geosynchronous orbit around this unknown world. If he was lucky and waited for a little while, he would periodically see one of the multitude of orbiting lights wink out of existence as the ship initialised the hyperdrive and was propelled through the unimaginable realms of hyperspace to its destination, tens or thousands of light-years away.

Looking more closely at his immediate surroundings, the office was sumptuously furnished. The carpet under his feet was deep-piled and the walls were covered with wood panelling. Pine, Oak or Teak shipped all the way from Old Earth, or one of the cross-hybrids from the settled worlds, he could not be too sure.

Adorning the walls were paintings by artists from a multitude of worlds. Both Human and alien, there were portraits of well known people of the day, abstract compositions and occupying pride of place were a few Old Masters, exported all the way from Old Earth at a doubtlessly expensive cost. The owner of the suite was into sculpture as well....In alcoves in the wall nestled small but exorbitantly priced Earthly pieces of art and also dotted around were alien sculptures as well. Sculptures that were, to the Human eye, plain white but to the alien range of vision, flowing with colour and patterns. Touch sculptures were in abundance too, their creators blind by Human definition but their works opening up a range of possibilities to their radar-like senses.

Turning back to look at his protagonist, he found himself looking at a lean man who could have been anywhere from forty to seventy five, his face was lean with pronounced cheekbones and his mouth, framed by a goatee moustache and beard and flecked with grey, was merely a faintly smiling gash across his face.

The nose was aquiline and his eyes....his eyes seemed to possess an infinite, cold and sadistic knowledge. Coal-black and unfathomable, they were lined by crows feet and looked back at him with sardonic humour, scorn and a certain pity for Macfadyan.

His hair was close cropped and greying at the temples and he was dressed in a close fitting high collared, black business suit that accentuated his lean but muscular frame.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Christmas?" he said with a certain amount of good natured annoyance.

Macfadyan snapped back to reality and looked at the chess board between them on the desk and weighed up his position.

"Not too good...." he mused to himself. A number of his important pieces were in dangerous positions and most of his pawns were gone.

After a moments deliberation, he reached out and moved his knight.

His opponent raised an eyebrow archly but said nothing as he moved one of his pieces to counter Macfadyan's move. The game went this way for a considerable amount of time; strike and counterstrike, a minor victory here and a minor defeat there. Neither player showed any signs of losing ground until the mysterious black stranger straightened up in his seat behind the desk and rubbed at his chin thoughtfully.

"You know, old chap. Each one of the pieces on this board has a function. The bishops and the knights there and the pawns, lowly footsoldiers that they are, here and there. All of them have a predetermined role, even the king and queen; seemingly safe behind their castle walls and yet not invulnerable...."

Macfadyan's brow furrowed, a chess piece held in his fingertips suspended in mid-air, between heaven and earth, as he pondered what to say and do.

"You offer a convincing argument for predestination. You are saying that the pieces, were they human, would be bound by unseen chains of destiny. Blind to this, they would stumble through their roles apparently doomed to following their fate without any release or deviance from their allotted role....."

The stranger clucked with amusement and mild annoyance as he eyed Macfadyan with a look of wry humour on his face.

"So it would seem to the untrained eye, held within our bonds of fate and yet there is always that element of chance that can enter the game and sent every thing awry...."

Catching Macfadyan completely off guard, the tall stranger suddenly stood up from behind his desk, and with a single violent sweeping gesture of his arm, he swatted all the chess pieces off the board. When the last one had finished rocking on the floor, he looked up at Macfadyan, and, with a glint of malice in his eyes, reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a chess piece that Macfadyan had never seen before. Holding it up to the light between them for them both to inspect, Adh Seidhe pondered upon this piece and mused aloud, almost to himself.

"...and yet this piece, so seldom used but of such importance. Very few people know its true importance and I only have a fleeting knowledge of what it is. You are intimately acquainted with it, I do believe, and yet you cannot fathom out why..."

Looking at the chess piece held between Adh Seidhe's fingertips with an ever-increasing horror that he could not explain, he had a faint yet dawning realisation of what it was.

The small circular felt-bottomed base was there, it could be moulded in either black or ivory, depending on your preference. Looking for all the world like a terrestrial globe on a stand in miniature but with one terrifying difference. Periodically, the small earth-like world would detonate in a sudden, immense release of energy and its atoms would scatter in a small cloud of dissipated energy, only to coalesce again until the world was as it was before, only to explode and reform again. An endless cycle of destruction and reformation in the palm of your hand...

Macfadyan could feel a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead but for the life of him, could not explain why.

Chapter Seven

Consciousness came back to Macfadyan slowly, as though he had been drugged. Sitting up and shaking his head, as though to clear the last vestiges of the dream from his head, he mused aloud to himself:

"There is something funny about all of this and I intend to get to the bottom of this."

Working his jaws around, as though to rid his mouth of an unpleasant taste, he scowled with frustration, and then, looking at Curtis, he said:

"Colin, I want you to come with me to see the council. Call me morbid or what ever you want to but I want to go and examine the body of the attack victim we discovered yesterday. Our friends have been very tight-lipped about what has happened to him and even what his condition is, whether he is alive or even dead, I need to find out..."

Twenty minutes later saw the two men standing outside the massive double doors to the council chamber. Macfadyan, glowering with repressed anger and Curtis, curious to know what was going to happen, was preparing for a showdown, not just with the council but with the proctor-captains as well.

Straightening his coat and squaring his shoulders, Macfadyan banged on the door for what seemed an eternity before the doors slowly opened.

Almost immediately, two of the burly proctor-captains barred their way, weapons at the ready.

Shoving them aside, Macfadyan strode impatiently toward the seven figures sitting impassively behind their desk.

"Right..." he proclaimed loudly." I am here to find out what is going on. I would like to examine the body of the assault victim that we came across yester...."

His tirade was interrupted by the fracas that was unfolding behind him.

One of the proctor-captains had made the mistake of grabbing hold of Curtis' upper arm in an attempt to stop him from progressing any further. That was a bad mistake as Colin whirled around instinctively and violently rammed the heel of his hand under the guards chin. His head whipped back and there was the unmistakeable sound of bone snapping and the proctor-captain falling to the ground in a lifeless heap Outraged by this attack on his comrade, the other one leapt at Curtis with his weapon upraised, intent on smashing it down on Curtis' head and reducing it to a bloody mess.

Curtis, seeing this coming, merely grabbed hold of the captains arm and, using the proctor-captains weight against him, executed a perfect Ippon Seonage, throwing him over his shoulder to land heavily on his back where he lay momentarily winded. Just to emphasise a point, Curtis none-too-gently dug his heel into the man's windpipe while he had one of his arms in a wrist lock.

As he lay there thrashing and gurgling and futilely clawing at Colin's leg with his free hand, Macfadyan approached the council, a baleful glare on his face.

"Are you prepared to listen to me now?" he hissed.

Taarl, his face as though carved from stone, merely stood up and raised his hand.

"Enough!"

Curtis, taking this as a cue to relinquish his grip on the guard, gave one final vicious twist on the man's arm. Upon hearing a moan of pain, he let go. Upon release, the guard shakily stood up and crept back to the edge of the podium where the council sat..Taking his position, he stood there and favoured Colin with a venomous glare.

"Now that we are in a position to negotiate, I would strongly suggest that you all listen to me..."said Macfadyan, a supercilious sneer on his face.

Looking at the body lying on the floor, Taarl said, with a strong look of distaste on his face:

"Very well, but allow me to remove the...outcome ...of your altercation first...".He said, clearly referring to the late proctor-captain

At some unseen command, two more guards entered the room and without ceremony, picked up and hefted the body from the chamber.

"Very well, Macfadyan, you have been granted your audience!!What would you have us do??We are backed into a corner and yet you come in here, shouting demands and killing one of our guards in the process..."

"I would find out what is the fate of our mutual friend. The man who was viciously assaulted last night and not one of you lot seems to give a damn."

"That is none of our concern. We have a very large area to govern and a simple matter of assault on a citizen is a case for one of our regional administrators and his or her staff"

"Ah, but your regional administrators are nowhere to be seen and you seven seem to be the only controlling influence on this entire area, country or planet. That I cannot determine as you are all too reticent to tell me!"

Taarl sat there for a moment, thoughts and emotions tumbling over his aged visage.

"Very well, you shall have your wish. If you wish to look at a dead person for a few moments, that is your prerogative. Perhaps then, you will continue with the task that we have implored you to do; that of saving this place from impending destruction!"

Stepping aside and executing a mock bow, Macfadyan said:

"Very well then, my lords. Lead on..."

Making their way down from the podium, Taarl and another council member, who introduced himself as Dask, made their way down through many twists and turns of the city's labyrinthine streets. All throughout their walk, Macfadyan and Curtis saw scenes that they had begun to know all too well. Everywhere they looked, the inhabitants of this place had a suspicious, fearful look on their faces that was only compounded when they saw the two members of the council accompanying Macfadyan and Curtis.

After many minutes walking among the mist-shrouded streets, a low and ominous building loomed up before them out of the fog. Following the periphery of the building, they arrived at a sealed and fortified door.

"This is where we keep those who have met an...unfortunate end...."whispered Dask

To Macfadyan and Curtis, it had seemed that Dask had uttered the last statement with a barely suppressed chuckle in his voice.

Passing a tremulous hand over an optic pick up mounted in the door frame, Dask bade them all enter the morgue.

Their breaths misting in front of their faces as they breathed in the frigid air, the two council members led them through the darkened and frosty passageways until they entered a small room. Looking suspiciously like a standard autopsy room with its tiled walls and floors, the only other feature was a low table with a seemingly lifeless cadaver on it, covered only by a thin sheet. Next to the raised slab was a medical display, leads trailed off from it to go under the sheet, showing vital signs of the patient. The victims pulse was very slow, only ten beats or so a minute and respiration was but a whisper. All other signs were an almost imperceivable flicker on the screen. To all intents and purposes, the victim seemed to be in a deep coma.

"As you requested, here is the body of the unfortunate that was so... brutally treated last night and whose life you so... valiantly stepped in to save..." wheezed Dask, with the tiniest hint of malice in his voice

Standing over the covered body, Macfadyan took a shuddering breath, preparing himself for what he was about to see and, without further ado, flung back the sheet...

Staring at it in disbelief, all he could say was:

"It's the wrong body!!"

Chapter Eight

It was true. The body lying on the slab was that of a swarthy man in his early forties, with dark wavy hair and a heavy stubble on his chin and not the slim blonde man in his twenties who was viciously assaulted out in the streets. The only thing they both had in common was the fact that they were both deeply unconscious and, despite stimulants being administered by the grumbling Dask, the victim could not be roused.

Macfadyan stood there, looking at the supine body with a hand on his chin, pensively stroking his beard and with his face set in a look of deep concentration.

"I just don't understand it. All the records say that this is the man who was brought in last night and yet he looks nothing like the man who was assaulted."

"You can check with the proctor captains if you so wish." said Taarl."They would swear under oath that this was the same person that was brought in last night."

"There is nothing more that either myself or Dask can offer. This is the man who was brought in last night and we cannot help it of there is a ....divergence of opinion...." he continued.

Grating his teeth and whirling around and stomping out of the morgue, coat-tails flapping and his face set in a rictus grimace, Macfadyan stormed his way back out into the mist-shrouded streets and their secretive and furtive occupants. Instinctively cowering and moving out of the way of this blond-haired, bearded avenging angel-like figure, his face set in a scowl, the occupants could only wonder who this determined stranger was in their midst...

Macfadyan fumed silently on the walk back to their quarters. His mind ablaze with indignation, anger and a desire to pull this place apart to see what it was.

All too soon, he was back and he slapped his hand on the door annunciator.

Upon hearing the door open, Cre'at hovered up off of the couch where he was resting until he was at head height with Macfadyan.

+ We are gladdened at your return. The young female was growing ever more agitated at the time you have been away and is currently displaying signs of a malady for which I do not have an explanation. Perhaps if you would care to have a look at...+

"Can it, Cre'at! I'm not in the mood today!" barked Macfadyan

The Sot'm simply said nothing and merely hovered away to one side while Macfadyan stalked the floor like a caged tiger.

Turning around and jabbing an angry finger in the direction of Taarl and Dask, he demanded:

"Something simply does not add up. We all saw what the man looked like and you both stand there swearing blind that this is the man when he looks nothing like him!" shouted Macfadyan

His tirade could have continued indefinitely if it hadn't been for Blanche groaning out loud, clamping a hand over her mouth whilst loudly declaring that she was going to be sick.

Hastening to her side, Macfadyan crouched down beside he as she lay on the couch. Placing a hand on her forehead, her skin felt cold and clammy to the touch. With a look of concern on his face, Macfadyan gently said:

"What is it that ails you Blanche? We have all been feeling uneasy since we arrived here and you have felt this more than any of us. What is wrong?"

"I dunno, Bucky. Ever since we landed 'ere, I 'ave been feelin' uneasy. I put it to the back of my mind and managed to cope for the most part. It all came to a head last night when I got up to go for a jimmy. While I was sitting there, it was like a massive, invisible ripple or wave rolled across this entire city, subtly changing and altering everything in its path. This is what I sensed or felt and I don't feel bleedin' right 'cos of it...."

Upon hearing this, Taarl and Dask looked at each other with an alarmed look on their face, which was then quickly suppressed.

Glancing up briefly, Macfadyan was privy to the silent exchange between the two council elders and was determined to find out more.

"This whole bloody place looks the same but it feels different somehow....." her voice trailed off as she slumped back down on the couch, clutching at her head.

"Oh don't worry, Blanche. I can understand fully what you mean..." muttered Macfadyan, casting a veiled glance in the direction of Taarl and Dask.

"Our friends here are nursing some sort of grubby little secret and I fully intend finding out what it is...."

Hefting a roll of heavy cables over his shoulder, Curtis, his t-shirt stained with perspiration, started to feed them down through a hole in the floor to a position some twenty feet below where Macfadyan was working. He had shed his coat and with the sleeves on his frilled shirt rolled up, was working in a space adjacent to the city's main power converters. Off in the distance, Cre'at was entering commands on a console as Blanche read instructions to him from a data pad she held in one hand.

A space, had been cleared some days prior, from old living quarters and covering an area of approximately a thousand cubic feet, to accommodate the equipment, circuitry and super-conducting capacitors, replicated from the TARDIS memory banks, that were needed to shore up the city's malfunctioning power converters.

Looking at them some days previously, Macfadyan could only wonder at some of the superfluousness and redundancy of the power grid for the city.'City' being the only term he could apply to this place. Their hosts, despite their apparent friendliness, were still very tight-lipped about what this place was, whether it was a city, a continent or an entire planet.

Putting these thoughts to one side for the moment, Macfadyan paused to consider what had been achieved over the past couple of weeks.

'The Great Machine" from a half-forgotten late 20th century science fiction television series were the words that sprang to mind when he and Cre'at, Curtis and Blanche had been shown the power source some days previously.

"What was it called? 'Nebuchadnezzar 4' or something like that?" he mused to himself.

In that fact, he was correct. Advanced as this society was, their source of deriving power was archaic at best. A huge cavern, ten miles on a side and subdivided into various sections, full of machinery barely pulsing with power, was all they could show. Macfadyan had equalled and surpassed that with machinery that could fit into a space a fraction of that size and yet could deliver power, multiplied many fold, whist supporting and tapping into the city's ageing power supply, to keep their city running for thousands of years, if they so wished. Should they wish to make changes or reregulate the new found power coursing through the city's veins, to coin a phrase, all they had to do was enter certain commands on the keyboard on the newly installed console in the council chambers....

"All that remains for me to do is to plug the two connectors together, run some final tests and debug the software and that's it! Our friends have an almost infinite source of power to keep this place running indefinitely..."

Grasping the two aforementioned connectors in each hand, he flourished them dramatically before pushing them together.

A muted hum greeted his ears and a brightening of the lighting around him was apparent as the new power system kicked in

Smiling inwardly at this feat of engineering, he picked up his sonic screwdriver to do some final adjustments and stow some cabling away. However, as is the wont with all DIY jobs, however big or small, a man or woman never has enough limbs to handle all the tasks necessary.

As a result, Macfadyan's sonic screwdriver fell out of his grasp and clattered on the metal grating several feet from where he was standing.

"Blast and confound that thing. It has been a valuable friend to me and yet it can be like a bunch of keys...useful and yet jabbing into places I care not to mention while in my pocket..."

While holding, seemingly casually, onto a set of cables that were designed to carry many tens of thousands of volts, he tried moving his left foot along in an attempt to kick the sonic screwdriver back to within his grasp but to no avail. Lying out of reach, Macfadyan could either let go of the cables and deprive areas of the city of power momentarily to pick up the screwdriver, or plug the leads together and reboot the city's power supply.

Faced with that dilemma, he hung there, suspended, until his reverie was shattered as a slim feminine hand with coffee coloured skin and finely manicured nails appeared in his field of vision, casually holding the sonic screwdriver in her palm as a firm yet seductive voice said beside him:

"I believe this is what you are after...."

Chapter Nine

"Wha...Wha..What the Devil is happening and who the blazes are you and where did you appear from?!" was all a confounded Macfadyan could say.

Stepping out from the shadows cast by the newly installed machinery until she was fully in the light, Macfadyan and the newcomer stood there and appraised each other ....

What the startled Time Lord saw was a tall and statuesque woman, her dark skinned face framed by thick curly shoulder length hair. She was tall, almost six foot and her body was firm and strong, concealing strap-like yet feminine muscles. She was wearing a black short sleeved shirt under a tan coloured leather jacket and close fitting beige trousers were tucked into knee-high boots. A suspicious bulge under the hem of her jacket signified that she was carrying some sort of side arm. She was prepared for action as she stood there, taking mild amusement in the look of astonishment on The Buccaneers face.

What the newcomer saw was a tall yet stockily built man of indeterminate age but looked to be in his late thirties or early forties.

"He's a Time Lord so you can never be too sure of their age, despite their physical appearance..." she mused silently to herself.

His long thick blonde hair was pulled back from his face and tied in a loose pony tail and a light beard and moustache framed his jaw. His eyes were a light blue in colour and when she looked into them, they conveyed a sense of too many bad things seen and done and a sense of infinite sadness as well. He was clad in a white, though stained, frilled and laced shirt with a violet-coloured velvet waistcoat over the top of it. A wide leather and elaborately tooled bandolier crossed over from one shoulder to his waist. In it were sewn leather pouches which held his sonic screwdriver and a host of other electronic devices. Flared trousers, held up by a thick leather belt with a gaudily inscribed buckle in the shape of a heavily decorated infinity symbol, were tucked into black leather bucket-style boots.

"All in all, the guy either looks like a poor man's Cap'n Jack Sparrow or a refugee from a New Romantics reunion. Number Thirteen told me that his dress sense was idiosyncratic but he has a mind that is sharper than a razor...."

Casually tossing the sonic screwdriver in Macfadyan's direction, she said:

"I was told I would find you here, Mac...We need to move and get back to your quarters so we can discuss what to do next without our wrinkly friends in the council getting wind of me being here."

Macfadyan could only look at the sonic screwdriver he held in his hand, looking for all the world like it was about to go off, with a dumbfounded look on his face. Looking up at the stranger, all he could utter was:

"Just who are you and how did you know where to find me?" querulously enquired Macfadyan

Raising a finger to her lips, the stranger said:

"I will tell you as much as I am......permitted.... to tell you when we get back to your quarters. We need to make haste as there is a lot I need to impart to you all."

Shouting up through the open panel that lead to the main council chambers, Macfadyan merely said:

"Colin, I'm all finished here. Could you give me a hand up!"

Curtis casually sauntered over to the access panel set in the floor and, crouching down, said:

"You took your bloody time setting up those power couplings down there, Mac. I was beginning to die of boredom up here."

Reaching down in order to pull up Macfadyan, he felt a strong pair of hands grip his forearms, he heaved and pulled. His face then conveyed a strong sense of bewilderment at what he had just deposited on the floor beside him.

Raising herself to her feet, she dusted herself down and straightened herself up and without further ado, grabbed hold of Colin and, holding his face in her hands, planted a very firm kiss on his right cheek.

"Colin!It's great to see you again after so long!How is your wife Jenny and your lovely baby daughter!?You must tell me all about them and what you have all been up to."

Temporarily at a loss as to what to do next, Curtis could only return the hug and set the stranger down.

"She knows who I am but the last time I saw Jenny was back on Earth, it seems like so many months ago and we were just engaged. As for a daughter?? Who is she and how does she know so much about things that may come to pass?" thought Curtis

Hearing the commotion, Blanche and Cre'at had come over from where they had been working to see what was going on.

Upon seeing Blanche, the newcomer strode over and gave Blanche a sisterly hug. Gingerly returning the hug, Blanche stepped back and eyed the stranger warily.

"Blanche, I hope you are well and remain so for the near future. Please realise that I am here to help you all, despite my rather sudden appearance..." she said, with just a hint of sadness and foreboding in her voice

Cre'at, hovering near the stranger, said after a few moments of analysing and processing:

+I am detecting a strong residue of tachyon particles about your person. Am I correct in saying that you have been subject to a recent temporal displacement?+

"You are correct in saying so, Cre'at. You could say that I am from your near future. How goes the Scientific Function on Sotus these days?"

+You are knowledgeable with what I did on Sotus so many years ago?If I were Human, I would say that I was impressed. The Scientific Function is operating within its parameters, the last time I heard. You are to be commended for your knowledge of what we do+

Looking about her, she said:

"We cannot linger here for much longer. This place is only under partial surveillance but the council will wonder why activity has ceased. I would strongly suggest that we all return to your quarters where I will answer as many questions as I can."

Looking at each other and at the newcomer in their midst, they could only nod in mute agreement as they made their way back to their quarters.

Chapter Ten

Upon reaching their quarters, Nicola turned around and said without preamble:

"Right, you are all wondering what the Hell I am doing here. Please allow me to introduce my self. My name is Nicola, or if you you prefer me to be pedantic, Nicola..Zoe....Marr..."

For some odd reason, a mental image flitted through Colin's mind of a creature, bizarre and alien in appearance, with large ears and long flailing arms standing beside a large black door with the number 10 on it. Quickly suppressing that image and the question as to whether she had an older brother called Andrew, he shook his head and resumed listening to what the newcomer was saying.

"You are all right in thinking that I am from a time frame that is a few years in your objective futures..." Turning to Colin with a warm smile on his face, Nicola said:

"Whatever trials and tribulations you fight your way through over the next few years, you will make it back to Earth and to Jenny. Your wedding will be simple, yet lovely..."Mentally taking a step back, she then said:

"But, I must warn you, when you are in a certain bar on Cyrenia, watch out for the tall, muscular yet extremely drunk man at the bar with the Dalek plating he has as a shield and decoration over his right shoulder. Be careful as he has a chain-sword for a weapon and he's not afraid to use it..."

Mentally taking note of that incident that may happen in his future, Curtis turned as Nicola focussed her attention on Blanche.

A look of pity crossed her face and barely suppressed tears filled her eyes.

"Blanche, even though this is the first time we have met, you are like a sister to me. We both accompany men who have the weight of the ages on their shoulders. Whereas yours is kind yet flawed, mine is more self-centred and cynical. A man who is a mirror image of your Macfadyan and yet so different. You may think of him as something akin to a spirit who, in Gaelic folklore, haunted those who had guilty secrets to harbour.."

Macfadyan stirred suddenly upon hearing that. That phrase struck a responsive chord within him for some unknown reason the name Adh Seidh sprang unbidden to his lips

Changing track completely before she could unwittingly divulge any more of their collected futures, she continued

"A few years ago, my time, I was working as a sneak thief doing the occasional job for various masters. Breaking into bank vaults, looting passenger starships in mid-flight and hacking into supposedly impenetrable computer systems. It was all very good and the money was fine but I was looking for bigger fish to fry. That is when I bumped into the man who would be both a mentor and a curse to me. A tall, slim man who dressed completely in black. He had had close-cropped hair, black yet greying at the temples with a goatee framing his mouth and chin. Yet whenever I looked into those eyes of his..." She shivered slightly to herself. "...it was though you were looking into two deep, dark unfathomable wells. He was a cold and calculating so and so, very much given to working to his own agenda. He paid me well for the work I did for him until things took a turn for the strange one day..."

"I had just come back from a successful job turning over a bank vault on the Phrygia continent on Cygnus Alpha. Going into his office, he was sat behind that desk of his, flicking those bloody stupid chess pieces of his back and forth on the board on his desk. Looking up at me with those eyes of his, he asked me if I was willing to take on a job, a very special job that I would be ideally suited for. Bolstered as I was by evading the security and making off with several million credits in untraceable denominations, I readily agreed."

"He did tell me that I would be meeting someone 'very high up in the chain of command and you are not to be frightened by his appearance'.Little did I know what a loony I would be meeting up with. It was then that he clamped around my wrist some sort of metallic bracelet with winking lights on it. The room swam for a few moments and I then found myself in a boardroom but it was all...wrong...It was like the dimensions of the room followed no geometry known to man and the corners of the room seemed to fade into nothingness and the angles of the floor were tilted at all sorts of insane angles...The whole place was like a bad dream or a Nuke-induced hallucination. All was there but nothing seemed right...."

Macfadyan suddenly had a vision, viewed as though it was looked at through rippled glass or smoke, of a madly laughing countenance, daubed with hideous clown make-up, guffawing insanely at a riddle or joke only he could understand. Macfadyan also could dimly see that the figure was seated on an grotesquely carved throne at the head of a long conference table. Seated around the table were a dozen shadowy figures, their faces obscured but he had a strong feeling of recognition and that he would be, or had been acquainted with each of them, even the insanely bellowing clown-like figure, rocking uncontrollably on his throne with hysterical mirth...

Snapping suddenly back to reality, he was surprised to see Nicola looking at him with an expectant look on her face...

"Have I got your full attention or would you let your mind take a stroll through the gardens?" She said sardonically

"Sorry, I do apologise..." he muttered absently to himself as he shifted in his seat and continued listening to what Nicola had to say.

"Let me tell you, this guy was weird, creepy and just a little...mad but he knew what he was talking about. I have never been interested in all that four-dimensional stuff, like time travel and trans-dimensional jumps but when he said that three people and an it..." she said, looking over at Cre'at, who hovered motionless nearby "...were in need of help, and that there was substantial financial inducement involved, how can a girl resist?"

She said, affectedly placing the palm of her hand on her chest.

"This guy then came over to me and clamped another of those weird bracelets on my wrist. He said they were only good for one way travel and I would successfully find my own way out when the job was done. One thing that he did tell me, emphatically, was that I am to be sent back in time to warn and help you, Macfadyan."

"You are a marked man and I am here to stop you from being killed!"

_______________________________________________________

"Who by?" was all that Macfadyan could gasp.

"They call themselves The Knights Of The Temporal Heart. An order of quasi-religious fanatics who believe they have the divine right granted to them by their deity: God-Time. They were formed a hundred years ago and regard anyone who travels through time without their express permission as a heretic and must be punished. They model themselves on the Inquisition of Old Earth, they believe that Time travel is next to godliness and only the select few have the divine right bestowed upon them to travel time. Anyone who transgresses their laws would be burnt at the stake after making a superfluous and probably very painful confession..Needless to say, things have moved on since the Middle Ages on Old Earth and I am sure their methods of punishment are a lot more up to date..."

"Why are they after me?" said Macfadyan

"Because you are a Time Lord and you have done a few things in the past that have risen their holy hackles. All that monkeying around on Jersey. All those needless deaths and walking wounded. As for Central America and Cre'at spooking those Silurians? They are puffing their chests out and getting in a right old state."

"But all of that is in the past and I have learnt from my....mistakes." He protested

"That won't make a blind bit of difference. They have located you to this temporal nexus and they are on your trail."

"How come you know so much about all of this?"

"The one I spoke to, I cannot reveal who he is for fear of muddying the time line even further, said that I was to come back and protect you. I have been enough fire fights in my time and I can look after myself..."

Casting a sisterly look over at Blanche, she continued:

"Besides, when he told me more about this assignment, my curiosity was piqued. There is something about this whole place that doesn't ring true and I, like you lot, would like to find out more.."

Striding over to the door, she then said:

"A whole host of secrets surround this place that need to be unraveled. How say we all take a little stroll and see what we can find out about this place."

The door whirred open and Nicola poked her head out into the dim green twilight illumination of the corridor. Looking left to right, the party filed out into the corridor.

No time pieces or clocks showed what time it was but the all-pervasive air of quiet and stillness filled the air. The corridors surrounding the council chambers were scarcely populated, whatever time it was and usually by small groups of proctor-captains on their patrols.

A few minutes later, their wanderings took them to the space adjacent to the big double doors that were the entrance to the council hall. Strangely enough, the doors were slightly ajar with no-one to guard them.

Frowning slightly, Macfadyan pushed at one of the doors and it gave very easily. Peering cautiously in through the gap, he saw that there were no proctor captains on duty and the dais was unoccupied, the almost skeletal occupants elsewhere.

"I want to have a sneak look at some of he information they may have stored on those comp-term consoles dotted around the chambers, indicating the raised consoles on their stone-like bases. "That way we can find out more about what this place is..."

Gingerly and with nerves on edge, the party made their way over to the nearest console. Upon tapping a few of the keys and hieroglyphs on the key pad, a nearby screen lit up with a kaleidoscopic display of colour which slowly began to resolve itself into intelligible sequences of words and diagrams.

Before they could progress any further, an alarm rent the air and the distant footfalls of approaching proctor-captains could be heard.

"This way!" said Nicola as they barged through a set of doors into another corridor. Running through the dim green twilight, they soon became lost but the footfalls they heard soon petered off into the distance.

"Perhaps this corridor will take us back to the courtyard and to where the TARDIS is..." gasped Macfadyan.

Picking up the pace, they made their way down the seemingly endless corridor, seeking escape from the proctor captains and the perceived wrath of the council members.

All but breathless, they turned a corner and they saw a sight which took what little of their breath which remained away.

Chapter Eleven

Stretched out in front of them was an immense hall, teeming with people of all races and what looked like all times in this places history. A man wearing a neo-grecian robe would be handing a data plaque to a stone-age Neanderthal or a contemporary of Curtis', wearing a khaki coloured military-style jumpsuit, covered in pockets and emblazoned with mission stripes and embroidered patches depicting planets and galaxies with would be writing something down on a chart. Rank upon rank of benches with people working away at a multitude of calculation devices filled the hall and and went off into the far distance. Here, a woman wearing elegant Elizabethan clothing would be sliding beads backwards and forwards on an abacus frame, there a dark-skinned negroid would be typing mathematical equations into a supercomputer mainframe. Off to one side, a group of Asiatic-featured men and women were punching keys on old-style adding machines and an Amerindian woman, clad in cured animal skins and moccasins, with a papoose on her back, keyed integers into a pocket calculator. All around, in this throng of these seemingly thousands of people, there was the clattering of fingers on keyboards, the feeding of punch-tape into old computers and the flicking back and forth of abacuses but something seemed very unnerving and out of place.

You would expect in any office or place of work, to hear the muted but steady hum of Humanity; the idle chit-chat, grumbles and petty arguments that punctuated a normal day in the office. The flicking of paper darts, throwing of crumpled balls of paper at each other, the covert but lecherous ogling of attractive female members of staff. However, there was none of that. Each one of the thousands of men and women in that place neither spoke to themselves or to each other, let their eyes wander from their alloted task or indulged in any kind of interaction other than what was necessary. It was as though everyone was focussed on their task with a singlemindedness that bordered on the obsessive.

It was then that realisation struck Macfadyan.

"No wonder I've been having all theses feelings of deja-vu and a sense of this place being very familiar! Why, this whole place is nothing but a Block Transfer Computation Complex!!"

With that, he started laughing out loud and with joy. With his arms spread out wide, he turned a slow pirouette as he looked around him in delight and awe....

"Woss a Bulk Commuttion Conplex and wot does it do?" said Blanche, her brows knitting together in puzzlement.

After a moments consideration as she could barely get her head around the notion of such, Nicola said:

Let's look at an analogy, if you will. Just as the smallest atoms combine to make compounds, which go onto make molecules which go onto make the chemicals and minerals that make up our bodies. Numbers can be used in pretty much the same manner. Just as one plus one can make two, two plus two equals four, the sums and mathematics of numbers can be made so complex and labyrinthine that the whole fabric of reality can be bent to our will simply by using the right sum. The walls of The Buccaneers TARDIS have been constructed using such formulae and they are impervious to anything that the universe can throw at it."

"Oh, I get it now. I always thought 'e was talking gibberish sometimes when he was hunched over the console but 'e was just usin' the right equations, I am right in sayin' that?" Blanche hesitantly said. She may have come from a simpler time, temporally speaking but if something was explained to her, she grasped the concept or notion of it almost immediately.

"You are so right, child!" said Macfadyan, still intoxicated by his surroundings

"I have been told about places like this when I was studying at The Academy on Gallifrey. The one that everyone was used to talk about, albeit in very hushed whispers, was a place in the home universe called Logopolis. They are a friendly enough bunch there, very much given over to their work and would give a hand to anyone who happened to end up there but given the chance, they would gladly follow a life of solitude in order to pursue their studies..It was widely rumoured that one of my kind went there, shortly before he underwent a traumatic regeneration whilst battling an old foe..."

He would have continued with his explanation if it hadn't been for an almost imperceivable dimming of the lights in the hall and the background hum, ever present in mechanised environments, slowing down.

It was if a switch had been thrown somewhere. As one, the thousands of workers in the hall finished whatever calculations they were doing, put down the tools of their trade and straightened up and sat back in their seats with their hands resting on their knees. The almost palpable air of working and concentrating abated like the ebbing of a wave on a beach and then, there was simply nothing except a sea of faces, each with the same placid semi-smile on their faces, staring blankly into the distance.

Looking at all the ranks of mathematicians calmly seated behind their benches, all with the peaceful look of a job well done, Curtis said:

"To look at all this lot, you would think they were drugged, as though they were on amphetamines, for them to constantly keep working at such a pace and then to stop suddenly..."

"I think you'll find that the people who are labouring here are nothing but mindless drones...." said Macfadyan

Walking over to one of the seated figures, an elderly man with a white beard and wearing a simple blue robe out the bottom of which poked sandalled feet, Macfadyan waved a hand in front of his face. Upon getting no reaction, he prodded him with a finger. The man rocked in his seat slightly but offered no other reaction.

"As you can see, " Macfadyan said. They are like the other people, both on the surface in the city and down here and probably in other parts of this place as well. The whole concept that this place is somewhat akin to being some sort of facsimile of life or something yet that I cannot explain grows ever stronger. I am close to an answer. They are somewhat akin to automata, and yet given some sort of autonomy in what they do. This is a prime example of what I am talking about. People from all backgrounds, times and races, all working for a common goal and yet with barely any individuality or recognition of what is going on around them. They have been granted a certain amount of individuality in order, should a complex mathematical puzzle come along, to solve that before returning to the mindless rote and drudge of what they normally do here, namely bulk and repetitive computations...."

With his face suddenly set in a look of steely determination. Macfadyan turned and started for the entrance to the hall.

"Right! This time we all go back and confront the council with what we have found. The need for subterfuge is past and now we want some answers!"

Galvanised by what Macfadyan had said and for a need to see the mystery of this place dispelled, they all made their way towards the chambers exit, leaving behind the masses of people who still sat there, impassive and unmoving. They would have made it all the way back to the council chambers if it hadn't been for the septet of stern-faced men and women who had literally appeared from nowhere and were blocking their way...

Chapter Twelve

All of them were dressed in black one piece jumpsuits with elaborate stitching forming a V shape which ran from each shoulder down to a point halfway down the torso. There was a large emblem on the left breast pocket of each of the members jumpsuits. It was a stylised heart vertically transfixed by either a dagger or a sword, Macfadyan couldn't be too sure. This overtly religious symbol of the Sacred Heart was finished off by having a background of an hourglass.

The obvious leader of the team, a tall gaunt-faced man with skin on his face like parchment stretched over his skull, was dressed slightly differently to the others. Upon his head and covering his closely cropped grey hair, was a black skull cap, covered with the same heavy embroidering and about his shoulders was a black cape with a larger copy of the religious emblem embroidered on that too.

Having taken the group buy surprise, Macfadyan and the others could only stand and stare as the leader of the newcomers took a few steps in their direction. Directly looking at them for the first time, they could see that the man had that tell-tale look of religious fanaticism in his eyes. This was confirmed by what he said next:

We, as representatives of The Knights Of The Temporal Heart, have been told that heresy has been commited and that A Transgressor is in your group who has flouted the Sacred Laws of Time for their own perverse and unholy ends and wishes to corrupt the holy pathways of Time. In our eyes, Heresy has been commited and the only sentence is death.The execution will be carried out immediately. I, Brother Sebastian, will mete out the necessary sacrosanct punishment."

"Now just a minute..." bristled Macfadyan angrily, "I am a Time Lord and I have been charged by the High Council of Gallifrey to protect and serve time. We are not going to face summary execution for crimes we have not commited by a bunch of quasi-religious fanatics..."

"What you are and what you do are unimportant." said Sebastian, looking at the group as a whole."There is a sinner among you and they must be punished. You may pray for absolution and mercy at God-Times throne and you may be spared Eternal Damnation; to live without Time....Prepare yourself, Transgressor!"

With that, his right hand whipped up to face in the groups direction. In the palm of his hand was embedded a complex net of circuitry which glowed with an ever-increasingly bright blue light.

"A neuro-systemic blaster!" shouted Nicola, as she immediately recognised what it was."Split up, all of you!!

"What is that?" shouted Macfadyan as he dived behind a bench, just as some masonry on the wall behind him was hit by a blindingly bright blue bolt of energy and exploded in a shower of rubble.

"It's an energy weapons system that is linked directly into the users nervous system. It can magnify bio-electric impulses to a very high magnitude and these can be discharged in a given direction like an ordinary blaster. Brother Sebastian must have had his Shredded Wheat today as this is the most powerful example of the weapon I have ever seen! A bit like using a cannon to crack a walnut, methinks!"

Curtis, a battle-hardened veteran, had taken shelter behind a tall computer cabinet. Having the foresight to have packed his side arm and numerous clips of ammunition in his jacket pockets, he was fully loaded .At that moment, a member of the Knights of The Temporal Heart, armed with a standard energy weapon, darted between two pillars. Curtis fired and was rewarded with the sight of the Knight snapping around and crumpling to the floor, either dead or wounded.

Blanche, in the meantime, had run a hundred yards or so and had taken shelter by a doorway leading to a room where archaic wooden packing crates were stacked. Breathing hard, she laboured to catch her breath before looking around for a suitable length of wood to arm herself with before rejoining the fray. Before she could do so, an arm snaked out of nowhere to fold itself around her neck and then proceeded to choke the life out of her.

Acting instinctively, she rammed her elbow into her assailants solar plexus and was rewarded with a screaming grunt as her attacker bent double. Just for good measure, Blanche turned and planted a heavy kick in the Knights chest.

Exhaling sharply, the Knight dropped to the floor and rolled over to look up at Blanche, temporarily winded.

Blanche was surprised to see that her attacker was a scowling middle-aged woman with the same close-cropped hair as Sebastian and the same look of eerie religious fervour on her face as well.

Crouching down, Blanche grabbed hold of the female Knight by her shoulders.

"Right then, you bitch! Before I introduce you to my good friend; Mister four by two, I want to know wot the bleedin' 'ell you lot of nutcases are doin' 'ere, takin' pot-shots at us!" Blanche demanded, all the while ominously hefting a long piece of wood in the Knights face.

"There is a Transgressor in your midst." she gasped. "You are protecting the sinner and as a result, you must all be punished as well. The Transgressor has flouted the Sacred Laws of Time and must be punished!"

"Yeah, yeah. I know that. You spouting that religious crap an' all that. I know Mac has done a few dodgy things in the past but to have 'is nuts for garters is bang out of order..."

The female Knights brow knitted in puzzlement.

"Macfadyan? No, he is not the Transgressor. It is the other female in your party; Nicola Marr...."

"Oh shit..." was all Blanche could say. Grabbing hold of the female Knights head, she banged it a couple of times on the hard stone floor to render her unconscious before standing up and running off down the corridor towards the main hall, all the while shouting:

"Mac!! Mac!! We've gotta problem!!"......

_________________________________________________

All the while, Cre'at, normally abhoring violence, had taken to the air in order to view the skirmish from a lofty vantage point. Upon seeing two Knights creeping down a narrow gangway flanked by stone pillars, he fired off two rapid shots from his head cannon.

The columns collapsed, trapping the knights in the gangway and stuck between two large piles of masonry which blocked their escape.

Just as he was about to descend, a bolt of energy skimmed past him, knocking him to one side. Looking down, he saw the circuitry in Brother Sebastian's hand glow blue-hot once again as he fired off another bolt. Quickly firing his head cannon on a higher energy setting, the two incandescent beams struck each other in mid air. A small, but immensely powerful explosion happened which Cre'at bore the brunt of as the shockwave from it hit him and he was slammed into a wall. Temporarily stunned, he dropped to the ground to land with a loud clang. His optical pickups dimmed as his internal power systems closed down.

Meanwhile, down below, the day was not going well for Curtis. A Knight had sprung out on him and had knocked his firearm from his grasp. Before the Knight had time to fire his weapon, Colin had spun on his back heel and kicked the blaster from his grasp. The Knight, lashing out, had his blaster kicked away from him. In losing his weapon, he was able to block the kick and grabbed hold of Colin's leg. Twisting it savagely, he had hoped to dislocate Colin's leg. However, Colin rode with the turn and executed a mid air kick with his other leg which caught the Knight on the side of the head.

Down but not out, the Knight fell to his knees, momentarily stunned. Unfortunately, Colin landed heavily on his left arm. Gasping out loud with pain, Colin suspected that the arm was badly bruised but not broken. Clutching at his arm, he could only lie there and look as though through a red haze, the Knight slowly get up and walk over to where his blaster was.....

Running through the maze of corridors that surrounded the Grand Hall, Macfadyan and Nicola made their breathless way. Nicola, in her duty to protect Macfadyan, had to get him back to safe surroundings in order to rescue the others and effect an escape from the city.

Turning a corner, they saw that they were in a blind alley. Whirling around, they sought to make their escape but they found their exit was blocked by Brother Sebastian standing there, blocking their way with the palm of his hand glowing with contained blue fire...

"You cannot escape from the divine and all-consuming fire that is Times divine justice, Transgressor. You flouted the Sacred Laws of Time and for that, you must reap its wrath..."said Sebastian, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"You sadistic swine. I have been charged with governance over the corridors of time. To make sure that it is not corrupted by malign forces and insane tyrants, intent on bending time and all its inhabitants to their will. Yes, we have heard of you but dismissed you as nothing but a bunch of dogma-ridden fanatics; aflame with self-righteous zeal and sabre-rattling rhetoric."

Macfadyan took a step towards Brother Sebastian, anger making his eyes ablaze at the numerous injustices that were so prevalent throughout time.

"You may kill this body, Sebastian, but beware! I will regenerate and I will come after you. Then you, your followers and the rest of your poisonous ilk will be brought before the court on Gallifrey to answer for your crimes. Religious hysteria and all its bloody adherents spring up like a plague all throughout time, blinding mens judgment and clouding their vision, sacrificing reason and logic for fear and cowering before false idols and tyrannical despots. Too many times have I seen good and honest people ground down beneath a dictators heel. Made to pledge cringing fealty to creatures that expect to revered as gods but are nothing but base-born scum who should crawl back from whence they came!"

"Go on! Take your best shot but, mark my words, I will return and you will then know true divine wrath!!"

With his back to the wall and with a look of contemptuous defiance on his face, Macfadyan stood there, challenging Sebastian to strike him down...

With the same half-smile playing over his lips, Sebastian raised his palm and pointed it in Macfadyan's direction.

Straightening his shoulders and throwing his head back, Macfadyan awaited the final blow.

With a sardonic sideways look at Macfadyan, Sebastian fired....

The bolt of energy hit Nicola squarely in the chest. She barely had the chance to utter a single cry before falling to the ground

Rushing over to where Nicola lay, Macfadyan squatted down, picked her up in his arms and cradled her as her life flickered and faded in front of him.

With her life ebbing away in front of his eyes, all Nicola could say in the last couple of minutes before life fled her body was:

"I can't believe he lied to me. I thought that I was sent here to protect you and yet I was the target all along. So much duplicity and double-crossing, I was completely fooled by him..."

An agony of despair crossing his face, Macfadyan could only implore of her:

"Who sent you! ?Please tell me, for Times sake!"

Clutching at his sleeve the same way a drowning man would clutch at a piece of driftwood before sinking for the final time, Nicola dragged up the last reserves of her strength and looked at him with desperation and fear on her face.

"It was you who sent me!...The giggling madness that will be your thirteenth and final regeneration sent me to find you. He knew what would happen to me and yet he did, deriving some perverse pleasure from my passing...."

She coughed and a runnel of blood began to trickle down her chin.

"For Pitys sake, do what you can to change your own timeline or else you will be sucked down into a whirlpool of chaos and madness that your future self will end up in....."

Her eyes widening and her face contorting in terror at something only she could see, her fingers contracted and began clawing at his sleeve as her breathing became more ragged and uneven.

"No! I can see Her coming for me!! The Woman in Black, standing in the midst of a dead and barren land, beckoning to me!!"

Pulling herself up with her last reserves of strength, she whispered harshly in Macfadyan's ear:

"Stop Thirteen!..Stop Thirteen!... Stop Thir........"

She never finished the last word as her head slumped back and her arms dropped limply to the floor, her eyes wide open and staring into infinity...

Nodding imperceivable to himself and with satisfaction at the completion of his duties in this timeframe, Brother Sebastian squatted before Macfadyan, who was sat on the floor, holding Nicola's body close to him, rocking gently while whispering unheard platitudes, entreaties and consolations to her.

It was at that moment that Blanche rushed by and seeing what had happened, halted as tears filled her eyes and blinded her with grief. Short moments after, Colin was pushed none too gently into the room at blaster-point and was roughly shoved over to where Blanche and a recently recovered Cre'at hovered. The Sot'm had recovered enough from the blast to repair his internal circuits and hover unsteadily next to Blanche but he did not have any power for his head cannon.

With the eerie light of religious fervour aglow in his eyes, Sebastian held his palm up in front of Macfadyan's face, so close that he could see the circuitry embedded in his palm glowing with a fierce blue light, the same blue light that so callously slew Nicola.

Involuntarily, he drew away from that light. Sebastian, noticing his discomfort, cocked his head to one side and said:

"Know you, Macfadyan. Even though you sail close to the shores of Heresy at times, you still serve a purpose in Times great scheme of things. Think well on what you do next. The Transgressor knew what she was doing and yet she flouted the Sacred Laws of Time in order to come to you to warn you...."

By way of the final admonishment, Brother Sebastian straightened up and glared at him:

"Be careful, we shall be keeping a close eye on you. Should you ever sin and stray from the path of righteousness, we shall be watching and waiting, ever-ready to administer divine judgement on you...."

Closing ranks around Sebastian, the surviving members of The Knights of The Temporal Heart turned and faced Macfadyan and uttered;

"Time is God and God is Time..."

With the air around them shimmering, the groups outlines wavered and they were gone.

It had only seemed a moment since they had vanished but at Blanches gentle ministrations, Macfadyan shook himself out of his reverie. Still holding Nicola's body, he looked up to see Taarl and the other council members standing in the entrance to the alley, surrounded by a phalanx of proctor-captains.

Taarl, his face set in a stony glare, simply said:

"You want answers. Then listen to us...."

Chapter Thirteen

Walking back out into the main hall, Taarl and the rest of the council members stopped and turned to look at Macfadyan enquiringly.

"You want to know the reason for this place, then come here so we may show you..."

Drawing a heavy sigh, Macfadyan gently lay Nicola down on the floor and pulled his fingertips over her face to close her eyes and allow her some serenity in death. Standing up, he took his coat off and laid it out on top of her.

With a final parting glance in her direction, he walked over to where the council stood, he then said:

"I have already come to the assumption that this place is a Block Transfer Computation complex. What is its reason for being here and why are you presiding over all of this."

"You are very right in saying that, Macfadyan." said Taarl, with an earnest look on his face. "Please allow me to explain some of the history of this great place to you and your party...." he said imploringly

"Then you will begin to understand...".Gathering his thoughts for a few moments, Taarl continued.

"Untold thousands of years ago, our race was already old, by your standards and were a race of great thinkers and devoted to knowledge and the sciences. We have heard of your space-time and have had knowledge of it for may thousands of years due to a few ships like your own falling, either through design or accident, through the curtain that separates our realities. One such ship, unable to get back to your space-time made this place their home. Eager to have a mutual exchange of knowledge with the beings who crewed this ship, a race very much like yourselves and my race, members of the council made first contact with the crew of the ship. It would seem that humanoid life is the dominant sentience in whatever reality is spoken of. One piece of knowledge they imparted to us was the theory of Block Transfer Computation; the manipulation of numbers and equations in order to bend the stuff of reality to our bidding!"

"This created quite a stir with our race as we thought ourselves masters of astro-engineering. On many of our worlds can be seen the fruits of our labours; orbiting space stations and space bound telescopes to peer into the furthers reaches of our universe. Geosynchronous tethers, orbital towers and space elevators many thousands of miles high, ready to lift men and materials from the ground up into space. One of our crowning achievements was what you call a Dyson Sphere around a stellar neighbour of ours, many thousands of miles in diameter, we thought this was the culmination of our handiwork. That was until they imparted on us the knowledge to change the very fabric of reality with literally just the right sum!"

"One thing you must realise is that we are a very long-lived race. We, the council, cannot die by any...natural...means so to all intents and purpose, we, the last of our race are to all intents and purposes, immortal by any normal beings standards. When we first started our experiments with Block Transfer computation, much of E-space, as you call it, was unformed chaos, filled with ghostly phantoms of stars and nebulae. It took us many years before we perfected our techniques and the result is what you scanned on your way here, a pocket universe filled with life and sentience. That is why the surrounding worlds hold us in such awe. They regard this world as Holy Ground and would dare not defile it. It is both a blessing and a curse to us..." Taarl sighed wearily

"We value our isolation and yet we would dearly love to walk among the younger races and share our knowledge with them but to do that, they would regard us as gods and think that we demand obedience and their fealty. That is the last thing we crave...."

"So what happened to all the fruits of your labours and where are the rest of your race, and what of the simulacra of life that we saw in the streets and in the Computation Complex?" demanded Macfadyan.

"Even such structures as we have described can only last so long before they crumble and collapse into dissolution. As we have said previously, ours is a long-lived race but even we have to die at some time. Our descendants still live on many worlds but we, the Originators, have all passed over until it is us seven who remain, kept alive by increasingly artificial means in order to keep the Great Scheme going until its fruition. If it wasn't for this, we would have gone into the darkness long ago..."

"And what is the Great Scheme you have just told us about?" said Curtis

"I believe you have just seen the culmination of it in the Great Hall...It was the final computations necessary to make what you call E-Space an independent, self-regulating entity, controlling itself without need for this facility to tend to its functions. Order will prevail where Entropy once reigned!"

"But what of this city and its inhabitants?I have had this feeling that they are either projections or simulacra capable of limited thought. Why would you inhabit a city with such...spectres?" said Macfadyan.

"A very valid question you ask. We knew that our time was limited once the Great Scheme had entered its final phases and our thoughts turned to what would happen once it was completed. Any original members of our race who inhabited this city had long since gone over to the darkness and we were left with an empty city and no-one to inhabit it. Since death is viewed with fear and horror by all sentient races that we have encountered, we decided to run an experiment. You are correct in saying that the people you see are nothing but tactile holograms programmed with limited autonomy. During our studies, we found that death was as much a motivating factor in their lives as eating, sleeping, working or procreation. We are fascinated by death and the concept that ones physical form has to terminate at some time. We feel that more and more and wished to study that in greater detail. That is why we devised the concept that their nemesis was akin to a predator stalking them, to heighten their senses and, strangely, making them feel more alive while living in the knowledge that their life could be snuffed out in an instant. That is why we introduced a random element into the mix, in the form of the serial killer that Captain Curtis so valiantly pursued that evening. I am afraid to say he was chasing nothing but smoke and mirrors that time, to coin a phrase...." Taarl said with a heavy hint of irony in his voice.

Curtis glowered at the council but otherwise said nothing.

"As for the assembled beings you saw down in the Great Hall, they too are they same. However, in order to get the best possible outcome for our final computations, we unanimously decided to include all indigenous races from our planets past into the final calculations. Each one of the beings you saw in there has so much to offer. You may think that an aborigine from a remote part of our planet or a woman of genteel breeding from a period only a few centuries past may have little to offer but you are wrong. Each one of them has a vital part in playing in order to bring their memories and their experiences they have lived through, their history, upbringing, the mores and heritage they have accumulated during their life times adds something immeasurable to the final computation. They may be projections but the original template they were based upon lives on through them and in that respect, their forebears are truly immortal."

"And what of the discomfort that Blanche felt a few nights back? What was that caused by?"

"Your ward is a lot more sensitive to electro-magnetic disturbances above and below the normal range of human experience than you realise, Macfadyan. It is very true that what she felt that evening was like a wave rolling out over the city. At ever-increasing periods, the facsimile that is the population of this city have to have the engrams that make up their appearance and personalities renewed. Like all data in a failing computer system, it is prone to corruption and we have to update the software, to use a layman's terms. The data that made up every person in this city was becoming more and more scrambled and it got to the extent that our simulations outer appearance were shifting and changing. The person you saw in the hospital that night was indeed the person you saved from the killer but the programme governing his external appearance was malfunctioning due to the city's dwindling power. That is why you were summoned to us, Macfadyan. You had the technical know-how to shore up this citys power reserves indefinitely."

Taarl hung his head and murmured:

"It is true that we lured you here on a falsehood but would you have helped us if we had asked you truthfully?"

"I don't know. If you had been honest with me from the outset then things may have been different. The whole concept with which this city has embraced trying to find out what death and mortality is, to me, somewhat disturbing..."

"Speaking of death, what are we to do with your young friend there?" Taarl said, looking in the direction of Nicola's body."Once you are ready to leave, you may take it back to your vessel to do as you see fit with it."

It was though a dark ripple began to form in the back of Macfadyan's mind.

"Those bastards killed her without compunction and on the most flimsiest of excuses. Their minds, poisoned by pious gibberish, deemed her a law-breaker and they had to punish her according to their convoluted sense of religious honour! That scum confront me and dare dictate to me about how I travel through time. My reasons are entirely altristic, even though my methods have been questioned in the past, I believe that I have acted for the greater good of things..."

The black ripple became a wave and started for the distant shore.....

"All throughout time, there have been forces and beings that simply should not have been come into being. Things that are aberrations of nature and go against the very things that existence hold dear. Creatures that would revel in chaos and destruction, misery, pain and suffering! By rights, these things should not exist but they do. A mockery of creation that should not be!!"

A distant roaring began in Macfadyan's mind as the black wave grew bigger as it came nearer.

"Ever since I came into being and left the Academy, I knew my life was not ruled by the stratified, studious and above all, stilted existence on Gallifrey. I knew I had to get out there and make a difference. So many thousands of years of absolute ascendancy over the corridors of time and all my society had to show for it was stagnation and apathy!! Those...men.." he spat the word out as though it was bile in his mouth

"They had the effrontery to confront me and kill a companion of mine in cold blood. For that, they will know my anger. I will hunt them down and I will smite them...and...an..an..."He hysterically ranted

Blanche shrieked in alarm as she saw Macfadyan raspingly exhale and his eyes roll back in his head. As though he was a marionette with all its strings cut suddenly, he fell to the floor and lay there moaning in anguish and twitching feebly.

It was then that the black wave of anger, rage, grief, despair and other negative emotions rose up as a tidal wave, came to a peak and then rolled over him, engulfed him and that was all that Macfadyan knew for a while as he fell into the darkness.....

Chapter Fourteen

Darkness surrounded Macfadyan, pitch black and impenetrable; in the infinite distance there is one pinprick of light.

There was a rapid sense of movement and the spot of light, whether it is getting larger or he is moving towards it and he is whipped out of the end of the tunnel into another dream-like scenario.

All is dark, quiet and still. A single spotlight illuminates a stone-flagged floor that is bare of all furniture or ornamentation. Kneeling in the spotlight is a priest or a monk; he is deep in prayer or supplication, murmuring quietly to himself. No features can be seen as the hood of his cassock is pulled up over his head.

Circling him in a predatory manner are two women. They are both attractive, although in different ways. One is wearing a red evening dress with long lush black hair; her lips are painted the same colour as her dress. The other is dressed in a man’s business suit, one size too big, her dark hair is cut in to a short bob style her lips painted ruby almost black

“I know you have prior claim but this insect put me through suffering”.

The woman in the suit looked up at that:

“My claim is only tenuous the agreement was fostered upon me. Do you think I would willingly agree to use such inferior material?”

“You can have him when I have finished with him.”

“Take your time. All I want is this!”

The woman in the suit reached out her hand and plunged it in to the monks back, who then gasped. The sound of a man in intense pain. With her other hand she reached into her inner jacket pocket and pulled out a small clear plastic container, which she placed in the air next to her. She then drew her hand out of the monks back. It was holding a glowing white ball. The ball was still connected to the monk by feebly glowing tendrils. She then took out what looked like small eyebrow tweezers and started prising small golden glowing threads from the orb and placed them in the container.

After she finished, she let go of the orb, which snapped back into the monk, who slumped, either unconscious or dead, to the ground.

Scooping up the container, she turned back to the woman in the red dress and said:

” All yours." she said, clearly dismissive of the prone body on the ground:

" I shall give this to a more deserving subject." she scornfully continued

She then turned around and slowly walked out of the pool of light.

The woman in red turned to the monk, her form already distorting

“At last, at last...”

The scenery sifted, warped and flowed and then stabilised.

The school was abandoned; decay had begun to nibble at the edges. Data plaques were scatted around, desks over turned, screens cracked. Dust motes floated suspended in the sunbeams that streamed in from the lush landscape outside.

On the blackboard, there was scrawled the words in childish handwriting: ‘who shall suffer for the little children ‘. Shapes, nebulous, vague and somehow threatening could be seen gliding around through the windows.

Macfadyan could hear children singing, ignoring the desolation around him, he headed straight for the source.

He walked round the corner into the reception area. Ahead of him were four girls dressed in Victorian pinafores. Three of them were playing a skipping game. The fourth was holding a crystal sphere with landmasses embossed on the surface, it glows softly, illuminating the girls face with a pale luminescence. Oblivious to Macfadyan's presence, all of them are singing a disturbing nursery rhyme

"Yesterday upon the stair, I met a man who wasn’t there

He wasn’t there again today, I truly wish he would go away

How many people did he take?

The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker, the watchman, the clock man, the tidy, the sick

Took them to the afterlife quick, quick, quick."

This unnerving scene is split asunder as, suddenly and without warning, the door next to him is kicked flying as a Sontaran of demonic proportions smashes his way into reception. Veins stand out on its head, froth flecks its lips. It charges the girls, firing the carbine at them, intent on their destruction.

The girl merely lifted the sphere, which deflected the beam which spent its energies on a nearby wall. However, all this was a prelude to what happened next.

Without warning, an outside wall exploded into brick dust and debris, as a cadre of Daleks poured through the hole. Their blasters firing indiscriminately and with their battle-cry of "Exterminate! Exterminate!...", they came through, intent on seeking out life and snuffing it out.

The blast knocked the girl forward, dropping the sphere. She looks up at Macfadyan in horror as the sphere slowly tumbles to the floor and shatters into thousands of pieces. Releasing a fierce white light. It reduces the girls to ash statues, it blows the meat and skin off the Sontaran, reducing it to a gore-covered skeleton before it to is crumbled to powder. The Daleks are boiled down to oozing slurry. Outside, emitting a thunderous rumble as it approaches, there is a moving distortion wave as high as the sky. Smashing its way through the sculptured landscape, impressed on to it is the image of a face…

At that moment Macfadyan woke up......

Upon regaining consciousness, he found that he and the others had been escorted, or in his case, carried to the council chambers under armed guard. The proctor-captains were taking no chances with Colin following their previous brush with him and had their weapons drawn and pointing at him at all times. Following the revelation as to what this place was, the council, standing to one side of the chambers, were huddled together in deep conversation, as though they were deliberating as to what to do with the party.

"It wouldn't surprise me if they decided to throw us out the airlock, so to speak." said Colin, his voice heavy with gallows humour.

"We know too much and they are deciding what manner of execution would be most appropriate for us. Give me a quick soldiers death any day, as opposed to explosive decompression...."

Blanche shuddered inwardly. To die in the airless vacuum of interstellar space was something she had a deep-seated fear of. Your blood would boil and your eyeballs would expand and burst due to the lack of pressure and all the blood vessels in your lungs would rupture as scarlet icicles erupted from your mouth and nose as the scream of fear and agony that you had intended to emit would rapidly die and literally freeze on your lips....

Cre'at was also concerned. Even though he was impervious to extremes of heat, cold and pressure, being adrift in the cold wastes between the stars was not something he relished. He had no frame of reference, either spacially or temporally, in E-space and no way of getting back to the home universe. Even powering his internal systems down to their bare minimum, there was no way he could maintain functioning for what could be countless millennia, drifting through the depths of interstellar space before, through a miraculous twist of fate, he was picked up by a passing ship.

There they stood, each one wrapped up in his, her or its thoughts. Macfadyan shifted slightly as he straightened himself up in order to sit up. He found he had been reclining on a sumptuously padded leather chaise-longue.

"Where have I seen this before?....".he idly thought in passing.

The fleeting mental image of a barren and airless landscape was rapidly forgotten about as he turned to more immediate and pressing concerns.

Gingerly sitting up, he turned to look at his friends.

Colin was standing there, his countenance grimmer than usual as he held Blanche to him in a fatherly embrace. The girl had her face buried in his chest and Macfadyan suspected that she was weeping at their impending fate. Cre'at hovered off to one side. As was to be expected, the Sot'm's face was expressionless but he could sense that the mechanoid was deeply troubled.

All of a sudden, the tense air of expectation was shattered as, as one, the council turned and made their way over to where the party was stood.

Taarl, a look of intense deliberation on his face, shuffled to a halt before them.

His voice hoarse, Macfadyan stood in front of Curtis and Blanche, who was rubbing reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks in an attempt to be brave. Cre'at's internal systems merely hummed slightly louder as he prepared himself for passing of judgement.

"Whatever fate you have decided for us, believe me, we shall not go down without a fight. We are not frightened by whatever you have planned for us...."His voice and bluster was choked off as something that Taarl did chilled him to his marrow.

After an eternity set in impassive lines, a rictus grin that was the closest approximation to a smile that he could muster, slowly crossed the haggard face of the council member.

It was then that Taarl simply said:

"Oh no, we have something far better lined up for you...."

Chapter Fifteen

What happened next completely dumbfounded the Time Lord and his party.

Laying a trembling hand on Macfadyan's shoulder and patting it gently, Taarl said:

“I do believe we have the capacity to help you, Macfadyan” said Taarl, as the other members of the council fanned out into a semi-circle behind him. As one mind and body, they closed their eyes and started breathing deeply and chanting softly to themselves in order to summon up reserves of inner strength, to what purpose Macfadyan could not define.

“One power our people have is the ability to delve deep within ones memories and what makes a person who he is. You have grief, guilt, rage and a host of other feelings buried deep within you. They are like a man underground, cut off from any access to the surface that they start to choke and writhe from lack of air as they try to claw their way out. Let us take this guilt away from you...

“I do not have any guilty...” began Macfadyan but Taarl grabbed hold of Macfadyan's face in both his hands and stared deep into his eyes....

And the mental hammerblow struck....

He mentally reeled at the force of the blow and felt like a man who was drowning in icy water as he took a shuddering, gasping breath as he thrashed wildly at the surface. No matter how he tried, he could not break free as his suppressed emotions dragged him down into the deep, dark water of his subconscious. Overhead, the sunlight of his consciousness; a flicker of light, was gradually fading into the gloom as he was pulled downwards, his chest burning for the surface and the air that could fill his lungs.

CATHARCEROUS!! A booming voice echoed in his ears

He watched, as a disembodied entity, as the lush and verdant planet below him cracked and rippled as the released energies of the device he had planted broke through. Magma from the planets core was hurled into space as the planet was slowly and to his eyes, almost gracefully destroyed. The wholesale destruction of thousands of Daleks and of innocent humanoids unrolled, as though on an old 20th century Earth filmstrip. The crust of the planet seemed to open up in slow motion as the explosive device that he had planted released its frightful energy. Ripples in the planetary surface undulated slowly out from the point of ignition and raced across its surface. Huge cracks in the planetary crust, streaming out light in all directions, inched their way across continents and huge clouds of super-heated steam billowed as the oceans of Catharcerous came into contact with the magma that flowed beneath.

This was inexorably followed as the oceans boiled off into space and the entire planet was as a dully glowing ball, suspended in space. Like a flower coming into bloom, the culmination of the chain reaction happened .Just as matter and anti-matter cancel each other out catastrophically when they come into contact, the planet was split asunder in a slow motion ballet of annihilation. Vast chunks of planetary crust whipped by him in all directions as the bare glowing heart of the planet was exposed to the rapidly dispersing echo of a planetary atmosphere, only to be cooled as it was exposed to the hard vacuum of space.....

The collective screams of millions of voices as they faced death was mirrored by the guttural howling of Macfadyan as the raw, open wound on his soul the was Catharcerous was laid bare and open to inspection for all to see.

“CATHARCEROUS!!” In Jerusalem, the time portal, in a silent explosion of light, opened and an army of Sontarans poured through, to be met by the crackling of rifles, mortars and small-arms fire from the UNIT troops who faced them. Soon, the dry sandy earth of Jerusalem was stained by the blood of those who fought. All around, he could see burning vehicles, the smoke-filled night sky and the various grunts and curses of humans and Sontarans locked in the grim and deadly dance of hand-to-hand combat, their faces locked in feral snarls as they sought each others extinction and all to soon, the sand that prophets, seers, wisemen and the common populace of the Middle East that had trod upon it, was stained with the blood of two bitterly opposed forces.

Macfadyan felt his body start to spin uncontrollably as he was caught in a whirlpool of rage, anger and all-consuming guilt and shame. Mentally dislocated and out of control in the dark waters, a bubbling scream escaped his lips as finally, realisation struck....

“CATHARCEROUS!!” On and on he fell, through the whirling maelstrom of his guilt. There he was on the Channel island of Jersey as the primal fury that was the spirit of a Neolithic burial mound wreaked its insensate fury on the inhabitants of the island. There he stood and watched as a medieval knight, resplendent in shining armour on horseback, rode through the cavernous hold of a space transport, broadsword whirling through the air as he cut a swathe through all those who had dared invade his realm....

The Sisterhood of Karn, stern, patrician and forbidding. Their faces illuminated by flickering torches as they passed their judgement on him....

Times Curse, Deaths Champion.....

“BLANCHE!!” He cried out. The young and streetwise Victorian urchin that he had plucked from her timeframe, who had accompanied him on so many of his travels, who had died, and had been reborn, at his whim, so many times due to his folly....

He broke the surface and drew an almighty gasp as he felt the air rush into his lungs.....

He was curled in a foetal ball on the floor of the council chamber. He slowly opened his eyes to see the lined, aged and haggard faces of the council looking down at him, concern etched deep on their faces.

“How do you feel, friend?” said Taarl, as he crouched down by the prone Time Lord, his lined and aged face was set in an expression of friendly concern.

“What have you done to me?” said Macfadyan, a look of horrified awe on his face, ” You delved deep within my psyche to remove something that I thought had been buried forever beyond my reach. Something which I could only touch during fragmented dreams and nightmares. Do you mean to say that you have expunged guilt that I felt over the destruction of Catharcerous.”

Seeing that there was no damage to Macfadyan, Taarl smiled to himself and said:

” In a manner of speaking, I do believe I have. The sorrow you felt was buried at such a deep level as you unconsciously made efforts to bury it deeper, it was in danger of leaving such an indelible impression on your soul, it would have been too risky to remove it without lasting damage. I do believe that I have been successful.” Taarl said, allowing a small smile of satisfaction to cross his haggard features.

“Remember, Macfadyan, the experiences we endure in life, both good and bad, shape us as a person and define who and what we are. The enormity of what you did, even though it was performed in the ultimate good, could not be allowed to stain your soul. Yes, those people were sacrificed to cleanse the world of Daleks, but you cannot allow that to become as a millstone around your neck."

Shaking hands reached out to help Macfadyan stand. Still giddy and light-headed from what he had just been through, he looked imploringly at the council members.

"What you have done is more is what than I can ever repay you. You have expunged something from me that would have continued to eat away at me until I was just a shell of what I once was..."

Taarl raised a hand to silence him.

"Your gratitude is appreciated but you have repaid us a thousand fold, although you can never know why. With all this energy at our disposal, we are free to do what we want. If we so wished, we could raise this simulacrum of a city from the ashes of what it currently is. It could be the dawn of a new Golden Age... As a new sun fills the sky..."

Tittering inwardly at that last remark, he turned to the other members to see that they all had the same look of expectation and anticipation on their haggard faces.

A cloud passed momentarily over Macfadyan's face, as though they had told a joke that only the council could understand and that he wasn't privy to.

Looking stronger than they had seen him in the last few days, Taarl gestured at the group and said:

"But please, do not let us delay you any longer. By way of a parting gesture, we have input onto your TARDIS' central memory cortex, spacio-temporal instructions and directions in order for you to reach escape velocity to clear E-space and return to your home dimension."

Macfadyan was flabbergasted. Clearly he was in the presence of superior technology and minds immeasurably older and wiser than his own. His home civilisation on Gallifrey had held sway over the corridors of time for nigh on a million years but to them, passage between dimensions was a venture fraught with danger and uncertainty. If the council and Gallifrey had shared the same space, would they be friends or something else? A cross-fertilisation of ideas could result in a New Golden Age for the galaxy, ripe with exploration and all manner of possibilities, free from poverty and the threat of conflict. Or it could be the start of a dangerous, downwards spiral into galactic and temporal war.....

Chapter Sixteen

Back in their quarters. Blanche sat on a bench pondering what had happened. Quick and violent death she was immune to back in her home time of late 1880's London. Life was cheap and death was free but she was still perturbed by Nicola's death.

"It just don't make sense, she took a bullet for you, Bucky. She told us she knew you in the future so she could 'ave seen what was coming and yet she still laid 'er life on the line for you in order to of the Knioghts and the madness of Thirteen .When the Knight told me of Sebastian's plans, I had to warn her but I was too late......"

Snapping out of his reverie, Macfadyan could only say:

"Yes, I know, child. The concept of a noble death is alien to me but she must have had a reason for it...."

"When I was serving in various conflicts throughout the world, I knew men who would throw themselves down on a hand grenade that was about to explode." said Curtis."They knew they could get killed but they did it for the sake of their fellows. Back in the First World War, men would spread themselves over barbed wire in No-Man's Land so their comrades could use him as a human bridge across an obstacle. It is something that is so ingrained in human nature and yet so often neglected. The concept of sacrificing oneself so that others may live. Noble to those who have been brought up and trained to believe in such but to others....." he lapsed into a contemplative silence at his last remarks.

There was a chime from the door annunciator. Upon opening it, Macfadyan was greeted by the sight of Taarl, a broad smile on his face, accompanied by two of the city's proctor-captains.

"My friends, it is time for your departure and I cannot delay you..." said Taarl. Unsettling as it was, he seemed almost too eager to see them on their way.

Casting a sideways glance at Taarl, Macfadyan walked past him with Curtis, Blanche and Cre'at behind him. Walking through the dimly lit corridors, they found themselves back in the cobbled square they had left the TARDIS. It had reverted from its former disguise into a plain, glowing globe about ten feet in diameter. Opening to an unseen command from Macfadyan, the party filed inside.

Pausing at the opening, Macfadyan looked out at the world they were about to leave.

"Are you sure you are going to be alright? The installation that I placed in your city's power grid is very powerful and I just want to make sure you are going to operate it properly..."

A serene smile crossed Taarls face."We know how to operate it. Never fear, my Time Lord friend, the power you gave us will be put to good use..."

Mollified by his statement, Macfadyan took a final glance around.

"Goodbye, Taarl. May you find peace and answers to all your questions."

Raising a hand in leave taking, Taarl said:

"Farewell, Macfadyan. We will find the answers to what we seek, maybe sooner than you think..."

The door hummed shut and they all found themselves back in the familiar surroundings of the TARDIS.

Normally, as was her wont, Blanche would have joyfully bounded over to the nearest couch and thrown herself upon it in a tangle of adolescent limbs. This time, it was different. She sat on the edge of a sofa and hugged herself: by way of comforting herself.

"I dunno, this don't feel right. I get the feelin' that something nasty is gonna happen..."

Hunched over the hexagonal console in the middle of the room, Macfadyan muttered, almost to himself as he entered the data necessary for their return to normal space.

"We should be grateful. We have saved this city from going into the endless winter night. The power supply that I installed will give the city light and energy for thousands of years to come. The council are free to do what they want now...."

Coming to a decision, he turned around and looked at their expectant faces.

“Oh, very well..." He said with mild annoyance." I suppose I could just have one last quick look, just to see how they are doing with the block computation transference installation. That should keep the city powered for a long time to come....”

He turned on the viewer to see Taarl and his colleagues, in the council chamber, talking animatedly amongst themselves. Macfadyan had never seen them so alive in the time they had spent in their company. Slowly rising as one, the members of the council stepped away from the table and they began embracing each other, as though they were taking leave of each other for a very long time....

A frown began to furrow Macfadyan's brow as he continued to watch the scene unfold....

A smile and look of pure joy at something only he could see, Taarl made his unsteady way over to the block computation console that Macfadyan had installed and began to input certain commands......

The others in the TARDIS control room were shocked when they saw a look of pure horror cross Macfadyan's face and a

“NO, IN TIMES NAME !! THEY CANNOT DO THAT!!”

cry escape his mouth as he flung himself over to the TARDIS console and smacked the emergency dematerialisation switch in an agony of panic and survival.

The TARDIS barely escaped the blast of pure energy as the city went up in an explosion of almost unimaginable power but it was shaken around like a rat in the jaws of a Terrier as the shockwave hit them and even permeated into the comparative safety of the Vortex, such was its power. All the occupants were thrown around wildly for a few moments before the explosion began to subside.

Awareness came back to Macfadyan slowly as he was helped to his feet by a grim-faced Curtis. He could see a long ragged cut on the UNIT officers forehead had been crudely bandaged by Blanche, who was sitting in a chair nearby, pale-faced, grimacing with suppressed pain and favouring her right arm which she suspected was badly fractured.

The Sot'm, Cre'at hovered nearby. preparing a makeshift splint for her arm and, to all intents and purposes, looked unharmed.

“What on Earth happened to the city??” said Curtis in a hushed whisper

“They wanted to die.....they wanted to die.....” was all that Macfadyan could say, “...and I gave them the knowledge and the devices with which they could bring about their own self-destruction. I should have known what they had planned but my vision was clouded by what they had done for me. They have expunged the guilt I had buried deep within my psyche for what I did to Catharcerous and this is what they did......They induced a massive feedback loop in the block transfer circuitry which lead to a critical reaction.....I gave them the capacity for the final act of self-murder.....”

Curtis placed a consoling hand on his shoulder and said:” You could not have seen what they had planned. They had grown tired of living and their purpose was fulfilled and had come to an end. What they had around them was a carefully manufactured illusion. The whole city was as a mirage or facsimile of life and they could not tolerate existing in such, now that what they had to set out to achieve had been accomplished. They wanted to end it all as their existence was pointless. You were helping them but not in the way you had thought.”

+The young female is injured and needs attention and you have been through a great ordeal psychologically and emotionally. I will attend to Captain Curtis and Blanche and heal their wounds+

Macfadyan nodded to himself, barely aware that he had done so.

“You do that, Cre'at. Would you all mind excusing me....I need to be alone for the moment as I need to think over the events that have transpired here....

One by one, Curtis and Cre'at made their way out of the control room. Blanche was last to go. As she left, she looked over her shoulder at the Time Lord, shoulders hunched as he leaned on the TARDIS console and deep in thought, with a look of pity and sadness on her young face.

Macfadyan stood alone, pondering the events that had transpired. A huge ragged sigh escaped him and all the years of his life weighed heavily on his shoulders. He suddenly tensed and snapped out of his reverie as he sensed something approaching. It was then all of a sudden and just for a short moment, a chill wind blew up around him, whipping at his coat and his face, and scented with the aroma of dying flowers. It was at that instant that he heard the brief, but faint and unmistakeable sound of a womans mocking laughter…