Part 26 (1/2)

The Doctor shrugged. 'I never judge by appearances.'

The mouths smiled. 'Then that is something we have in common. To we Xaranti, all forms, all species, have something to offer us. We celebrate the great variety of life forms in the Universe.'

The Doctor's face hardened. 'That's not the same thing at all. You don't appreciate variety for its own sake. You celebrate it only because of what it adds to yourselves. By recreating other species in your own image, you're making mockery of life, denigrating the essence that makes each race unique.'

'We liberate liberate other species, Doctor,' the figure said. 'We do not destroy them. They grow stronger through us.' other species, Doctor,' the figure said. 'We do not destroy them. They grow stronger through us.'

'No,' the Doctor snapped, his face flus.h.i.+ng with anger. 'You don't liberate, you enslave. You absorb their individuality into this great repository of yours and turn them into mindless drones, creatures driven by nothing more than negative rudimentary emotions and a basic hive mentality. Conquest through absorption. It's what the Cybermen do, and the Wirrrn. It's the most heinous crime in the universe.'

'Soon you will become part of us, Doctor,' the figure said, its voices imbued with smugness. 'Soon you will celebrate the fact that all life exists within us just as we celebrate it.'

'I don't think so,' the Doctor replied quietly.

'You have no choice, Doctor. You are becoming us.'

'I'm afraid that's where you're wrong,' the Doctor countered. 'I'll never become you. I'll never join you. I'll never see life through your eyes. In fact, I'm here to offer you the chance to withdraw the infection you've set in motion on this planet and leave before I get cross. Rather sporting of me, I think you'll agree.'

'Withdraw the infection?' The voices chuckled. 'It is already too late, Doctor.'

'There's an old Earth saying - it's never too late. But then you probably already know that.' Steel entered the Doctor's voice. 'You know as well as I do how you can withdraw the contagion.'

'Do we?' the voices said innocently.

'Yes. You can think it back.'

The Xaranti queen did not respond immediately and the Doctor smiled and nodded. 'I'm right, aren't I? There are no toxins, no germs, no bacteria involved in this infection of yours. It's psychological warfare, a thought-plague. You simply release this gloop of yours into the water where it's ingested or absorbed, firstly by marine and then by animal life. The gloop contains telepathic suggestions encoded at a molecular level, which then persuade the host body that it is metamorphosising. It's an impressive feat, I'll give you that, making people change physically simply by planting the belief that they're going to do so inside their heads, but it's ultimately flawed. Because when it comes down to it, it's simply a question of mind over matter. All it takes is a stronger mind than your own to expose the whole process for the sham it is.'

The Xaranti queen spoke, and just for an instant its many voices seemed to coalesce into something deep and melodious, before splitting once again into its const.i.tuent parts. 'You are a clever man, Doctor. How did you come by your discovery?'

'Oh, process of elimination,' said the Doctor airily. 'There was nothing very clever about it really. I ran some of the infected material through an exhaustive programme of a.n.a.lysis in the TARDIS, but could find no physical reason why the infection was taking place. In desperation I dug out an old lash-up of mine which reproduces thoughts as images, and decided that if I couldn't read the stuff physically I'd try reading it mentally.' He smiled. 'The results were extremely interesting, as I'm sure you can imagine. Improvisation has always been my watchword.'

If the figure had been human it might have shaken its head in dismissal. 'Your discovery is not important,' it said.

'Nothing has changed.'

'Oh, it has,' the Doctor insisted, and, reaching into his jacket pocket, drew out a flask of clear liquid and held it up.

Did the eyes opening and closing lazily within the iridescent flux widen a little in alarm, or was that simply the Doctor's imagination? Certainly its many voices sounded wary. 'What is that?'

'Antidote,' said the Doctor brightly. 'I threw it together in the TARDIS.' He unstoppered the flask and drank the contents in three gulps.

The effects were almost instantaneous. The cloud of Xaranti infection faded from the Doctor's eyes, the spines on his hands and neck withered and shrank until there was no evidence that they had ever been there, and the hump on his back deflated, enabling him to draw himself once more to his full height.

'You see?' he said, holding the flask up. 'Mind over matter.'

'There is no mind that can combat ours, and therefore there is is no antidote,' the figure said angrily. 'It is a trick.' no antidote,' the figure said angrily. 'It is a trick.'

'You can't deny the evidence of your own eyes,' the Doctor retorted. 'I believed believed that this was an antidote and therefore it became one. It destroyed your infection just as I can make you believe it will destroy you.' that this was an antidote and therefore it became one. It destroyed your infection just as I can make you believe it will destroy you.'

The mouths and eyes were forming and fading more rapidly now, the flux quivering as if in agitation. 'Your mind is no match for ours, Time Lord,' the figure said, its voice now sounding like the hiss of its own creatures.

'Isn't it?' said the Doctor mildly, and withdrew a second flask from his other pocket. 'Why don't you take some of your own medicine and find out?'

He hurled the flask at the metal column that contained the s.h.i.+p's energy core. The gla.s.s shattered against it, spraying the figure with clear liquid that only the Doctor knew was tap water from the TARDIS. Instantly the strange, s.h.i.+mmering substance of the figure's flesh began to blister and liquefy, to blacken and steam. The Xaranti queen's mouths opened in unison and released a single, fractured, ear-splitting scream.

Words formed within the scream, high and undulating.

' Releeeease usssss Releeeease usssss...'

'I'll release you when you release this planet!' the Doctor shouted, and his voice became almost pleading. 'Go now before it's too late!'

Without waiting for a reply he turned on his heels and strode from the room.

Tegan opened her eyes and looked around. She saw a sea of faces regarding her with wary alarm. She recognised none of them; nor did she recognise the thin-faced young man who was crouching beside her. She thought his eyes looked kind, and relaxed slightly - then she noticed he was holding a gun.

'Where am I?' she demanded. She glared at the young man.

'Who are you?'

'Tegan,' the young man said, surprising her with her name, 'are you all right?'

'Why shouldn't I be?' Uncertainty was making her angry.

Her glance swept across the group of people, many in pyjamas and dressing gowns, still watching her as if she was a wild animal they had cornered in the woods.

'Her eyes look fine now,' one old man said.

A large black man with a sweaty face who was wearing some sort of grey-blue uniform that made Tegan think of hospitals replied, 'It could be a trick. I mean, she's still got those things all over her.'

Tegan looked down at her hands and bare arms and saw black thorns jutting from her flesh. Her voice grew shrill with panic. 'What's going on? What's happening to me?'

'It's OK,' the young man said gently, soothingly. 'How much do you remember?'

Tegan tried to think. 'I remember... I remember leaving Sea Base Four with the Doctor and Turlough. After that, it's all a blur.'

'Look!' a woman said suddenly, pointing at Tegan. 'Look at her arms!'