Part 16 (2/2)

The Master took his place at the controls. 'Good luck, Doctor.'

The Doctor moved along the corridor, trailing flex behind him. He reached the door of the Process Chamber, opened it cautiously, and moved inside.

Sure enough, the Machine was back in place.

Perhaps the creature inside regarded the place as a kind of home, thought the Doctor. Perhaps it felt safe there.

The Doctor crept cautiously forward. He got quite close before the Machine reacted to his presence with its menacing, throbbing sound.

The sound built up with terrifying speed and suddenly the Doctor found that he was forcing himself forwards, struggling every inch of the way with the terrifying powers of the creature in the Machine.

Inside the transparent column the spongy ma.s.s was pulsating violently. It threw hallucinations at him in rapid succession; flames, Daleks, Cybermen and all the others.

The electronic pulsing grew louder and louder. Somehow the Doctor managed to resist. He staggered closer and ever closer until at last, with a desperate heave, he was able to throw the coil over the Machine.

The Doctor backed away.

'Now!' he shouted over his shoulder.

Out in the corridor, the Master was working frantically on the junction box controls, trying to stabilise the power levels before the box overloaded and blew up. Warning lights flashed on the control panel, and the box began to smoke, growing hot to the touch. He managed it at last, and the lights flashed less wildly, and the smoke and heat died down.

In the Process Chamber the throbbing and pulsing of the Machine died down too.

The Doctor turned and walked wearily away.

He found the Master waiting in the corridor, Mailer beside him.

'My congratulations, Doctor,' said the Master generously.

'It won't hold it for long, you know,' warned the Doctor.

'That thing's intelligent intelligent. Soon it will work out what's happened and find a way to deal with the coil.'

'Then you'll have to think of something better, won't you? Mailer, take the Doctor back to his cell.'

The Master swept away.

Mailer jabbed the Doctor with his automatic. 'All right, come on, you.'

Jo looked up as Mailer shoved the Doctor back into the cell. The Doctor took a few steps and collapsed onto the bed.

Jo sat beside him, concerned. 'Are you all right, Doctor?'

'I'm fine, Jo,' said the Doctor wearily. 'Fine.'

'Did you fix the Machine?'

'Temporarily.'

'You look tired.'

'I am! Physically and mentally.' Wearily the Doctor began stripping off the protective clothing.

Jo had never seen the Doctor in such low spirits. 'Hey, how about some food?' she said brightly. 'Do you think they'll give us any?'

'I doubt it not after what we did with the last lot!'

'We've had nothing all day I'm starving,' protested Jo.

The Doctor smiled. 'Well, I suppose we shouldn't have hit them over the head with our breakfast!'

Jo jumped up. 'Breakfast. Wait a minute!'

She scrabbled about under the bed and emerged with two dusty pieces of cold toast. 'I knew they wouldn't bother to clean up.' She held one out to the Doctor, who recoiled.

'No thanks, Jo, you have it. I can go for quite a time without food, you know.'

'No, no, we'll share it,' insisted Jo. 'And there's still some water in the jug there.'

Jo poured out two gla.s.ses of water, gave a piece of toast to the Doctor.

She raised her gla.s.s. 'Cheers!'

'Cheers!' said the Doctor solemnly.

They settled down to their feast.

'Did I ever tell you about the time I was locked up in the Tower of London, Jo?' said the Doctor suddenly.

'No, I don't think so.'

'I shared a cell with a very strange chap called Walter Raleigh. He'd managed to get on the wrong side of Queen Elizabeth, you see the first Queen Elizabeth. Anyway, he kept going on about some new vegetable he'd discovered, called the potato. Well, one day old Walter sat down and pointed a finger at me and said, ”Doctor...”'

A large plain van drew up to the gates of Stangmoor Prison and its overalled and cloth-capped driver got out, and nodded cheerfully to the tough-looking guard.

'Morning, mate. Provisions!'

He was a tall man with a clipped, military moustache.

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