Chapter Thirty-two

 

            The Doctor stepped out of the portal onto the barren wasteland of the Toymaker’s toy world.  The air was still and humid – uncomfortably warm for someone with a body temperature as low as his own.  He shielded his eyes from the bright rays of the newborn sun and looked around him for signs of the Toymaker’s handiwork.  He soon spotted two constructs, one to the north, the other to the south.  They would certainly be where the Toymaker would perform his games.  The only question was why did the Toymaker build them so far apart?

            Using instinct, the Doctor chose to head in the northern direction.  He could not clearly se the edifice ahead of him, but he somehow sensed it was vitally important.  He held back, waiting for the rest of his companions to step through the passageway.

            When Ravner stepped through, the Doctor noticed for the first time the crossbow Ravner held.  “It belonged to one of those guardian things.”

            “Guardian things?  What guardian things?”

            Mel stepped up to the Doctor.  “Remember we told you about those animated suits of armor that were freed from the Conscience.”

            “Oh, yes.”  The Doctor took it gently from Ravner’s grasp and began examining it.  Its handle was carved from an old, deep brown wood that withstood the test of time, and the bow was forged from a metal alloy.  The odd feature of the crossbow was the arrows themselves, which seemed to be mystically generated by the weapon.  One stood ready in its slot, glowing with a fierce energy.  “This seemingly primitive weapon was able to pierce Dalekonium armor?”

            Ravner nodded.  “Like it was butter.”

            “Very impressive.”  The Doctor viewed their surroundings again with distaste.  “We may need it in a place like this.”

            “You seem worried, Doctor,” Mel observed.

            “It’s this place,” the Doctor admitted.   “Very few people or places in the universe are really evil.  But this place … this place really is evil.  It hangs in the air, like a stench.”

            Ravner shrugged.  “I can’t feel anything.  I think you’re being melodramatic.”

            The Doctor nodded.  “I am unique in the respect that I have a physical aversion to the immoral.  I’m very sensitive to it.  That’s why I can’t intentionally do wrong myself.”

            He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.  “And there’s something else that bothers me.  Why hasn’t the Toymaker greeted us yet?”

            “Perhaps he isn’t aware of our presence,” Allene suggested.

            The Doctor shook his head.  “Not aware he has intruders in his own Toyroom?  Impossible.  He’s one of the most powerful psionics in the universe.”

            Leo cleared his throat.  “I think Allene may be right.”

            The Doctor raised an eyebrow.  “How?”

            “My mistress, the Great Composer, is a captive here.  Though she is under the Toymaker’s power, her magic is normally far stronger than his is.  She is constantly resisting him, trying to escape.  It takes all of the Toymaker’s energy just to keep her under control.  With him expending all that strength looking after the Composer, Iwould not be surprised if his perceptions were lacking in other areas.”

            The Doctor grinned.  “Excellent.  We need every advantage we can get.”  With that, the Doctor strode off at a clipped pace in the direction he had chosen before; the others followed quickly behind.

 

            When he senses the other had gone, Nyder stepped through the portal.  He looked about the sandy ruins of the Toymaker’s world and snarled.  Receding into the distance were the shapes of the Doctor and those with him.  Without any hesitation, Nyder went after them.  Even if they didn’t lead him to the Toymaker, it would still satisfy him to kill the doctor.

            Yes, the Doctor’s death would make all Nyder’s suffering worthwhile.

 

            The Great Composer smiled up at the wax figure of the Doctor’s sixth incarnation. **The Creator be praised.  Your younger self has arrived.  Soon we will both be free.**

 

            The Toymaker led Peri into a small, plain room that was empty except for one distinguishing feature.  A large mirror with a thick silver frame almost entirely covered the east wall.

            The Toymaker stood Peri in front of the mirror.  “This is the memory window.”

            Peri pointed to the mirror.  “This is the game you want me to play?”

            “Not really a game as such.  It is a test to see how strong a person’s will is.  If you pass it, I will resurrect King Yrcanos.”

            “This?  A test?”

            “Look deep into the mirror.  Then you will realize what you must do.”

            Peri watched as her own reflection faded slowly from the surface of the mirror until it was gone completely.  The feeling of looking into a mirror and not seeing herself was so surreal that it made Peri feel like she didn’t exist at all.  It was very retrospective of the vampire legend for her.  The feeling was not a lasting one, as a picture gradually filled the mirror.

            A blurry likeness of the Doctor began to take form.  It slowly became more distinct, and Peri could tell that the Doctor’s expression was set into an angry glare.  Peri saw herself within the mirror, cowering from the menacing Time Lord.  His mouth twisted as he looked down at her.

            The scene had a terrible familiarity that soon became clear when the Doctor barked, “I see my own interest, I place myself first!  You are expendable.   You have no value.”

            That was when she knew.  The Toymaker was replaying the event that had driven a permanent wedge between her and the Doctor.  It was a memory from Thoros-Beta, an affair that was no less than a living nightmare for her.

            Peri tore her eyes away from the mirror and gave the Toymaker a pleading glance.  “I can’t watch this.”

            The Toymaker looked sternly back at her.  “You must, or you will forfeit the game.”

            “Don’t make me watch this, please.”

            “Look!”

            Peri hesitantly looked back into the mirror, in time to see the Doctor advancing on her screen counterpart.  He shoved Peri into a gloomy stone cell and shut the door behind the two of them.

            The tears were now flowing freely down Peri’s cheeks.  “What’s happened to you, Doctor?  Why do you hate me so?”

            “I must do what I think is best,” the Doctor replied in a voice thick with hostility.

            “I thought you were different – “ Peri began to mouth the words in time with the memory – “that you cared for justice, truth, good.  Oh, go away, I can’t bear to look at what you are now.”

            The Toymaker’s voice melted into the air around her.  “The sight of him disgusted you, didn’t it?”

            Peri refused to respond.

            “He was your friend.  You trusted him and he betrayed that trust.  And that wasn’t the only time the Doctor hurt you, was it?  There were others.”

            “No,” Peri pleaded.  “Stop it.”

            “There is no point in denying it.  The Doctor has tried to destroy you time and again.”

            “You’re wrong.”

            “Really?  If I’m wrong, then explain to me this.”

            The mirror blurred over, erasing the vision of Thoros-Beta from sight. When the distortion ended, the mirror displayed the image of a bright, hospital white room.  The room had a pattern of yellow roundels inlaid into the walls and a mushroom control unit stood at its center.  It was the central control room she knew of from her TARDIS.

            She saw the Doctor standing by the console massaging his ear and admitting bashfully that he couldn’t recall the coordinates to the Eye of Orion.  He checked unexpectedly, as if a very important thought had struck him.  He said Peri’s name aloud thoughtfully and turned to look at his companion.

            “How did you come by a name like that?”

            Peri shuddered as she saw herself appear again in the window, smiling benignly at the Doctor.  “It’s a diminutive of my proper name, Perpugilliam.”

            Peri knew what was coming.  The aftermath of the Doctor’s fifth regeneration.  The most terrifying moment of her life because it was almost the last.  Any moment now, the Doctor would transform suddenly from a fumbling, pleasant person into a ranting, insinuating madman.  She could already see the change coming over him as he asked disdainfully, “You don’t even know what a Peri is, do you, Peri?”

            Not expecting a reply, he delivered his answer with a crazed gleam in his eye.  “No?  I’ll tell you.  A Peri is a good and beautiful fairy in Persian mythology.  The interesting thing is that before it became good it was evil.  And that’s what you are, Peri; thoroughly evil.”

            “Doctor, stop it!”

            She had hoped the Toymaker would end the memory, but he let it continue to its grim climax.  She saw herself flee around the central console, putting it between her and the Doctor.

            “No.  No, not even a fairy – an alien spy sent her to spy on me.  We all know the fate of alien spies!”

            The Doctor lunged at Peri.  She’d tried to sidestep the attack, but he snatched her by the back of the neck and dragged her to the ground.  He wrapped his hands around her throat, pressing down on her windpipe with his thumbs.  She thrashed about with her hands and legs, trying to beat the Doctor off her.  The few blows that did make contact with the Doctor he shrugged off easily.  His mouth stretched into a delighted smile as he watched her struggles to break fee of his grasp.

            The vivid memory washed over Peri.  As she watched, she could almost feel his hands about her throat, wringing the life out of her.

            The Toymaker looked over her shoulder at the mirror.  His eyes glinted with delight as he took in the brutality of the scene.  “I don’t understand you, Peri.  This is the man you are going so far out of your way for?  This is the man you are risking your soul to save?”

            Peri shook her head, trying to negate the effects of the Toymaker’s brainwashing.  “No.”

            “’No’ what?  What are you saying ‘no’ to?  The lie that the Doctor is actually a friend of yours?  That he is actually a good person at all?”

            “You’re lying to me,” Peri insisted.

            “No!  You are lying to yourself.”  The Toymaker pointed furiously at the mirror.  “Look at him!  Look at him.  See the true face of the man you came here to save and ask yourself why … why are you here?”

            The picture she saw was that of the Doctor, leering down at her limp, lifeless body, unbearably delighted with himself for having killed her.

            “It didn’t happen that way,” Peri protested.  “He didn’t kill me.”

            “It could have happened that way had you not snapped him out of his psychotic fit in time.”

            “But it didn’t.”

            Seeing that Peri was holding out against his influence, the Toymaker chose to pursue a third avenue.  “Did the Doctor ever tell you what really happened to you on Thoros-Beta?”

            “I know what happened to me.”

            “Really?  How did you manage to escape Crozier?”

            “That’s easy, I … “Peri’s voice trailed off uncertainly.

            “You what?”

            She scrunched her eyebrows together, struggling to remember.  “I don’t understand.  I know I escaped.”

            “Did you?  Did you really escape?”

            The mirror shimmered a third time.  The Toymaker’s anticipation was mounting steadily. He had already broken down most of Peri’s emotional defenses.  He could tell just by looking at her troubled expression.  This next clip from her unknown past would put the final nail in the coffin.

            Reflected in the mirror was Peri, her head shaved completely bald, standing in an austere operating room, flanked by armed guards.  She greeted the arrival of King Yrcanos as a threat.  She turned to the guards and screeched in a deep, male voice, “Protect me!  I am your lord and master!”

            Yrcanos looked dumbfounded at Peri’s appearance.  He glanced about the room, groping for an explanation.  Spotting the body of Lord Kiv hooked up to the mind transfer machine, she realized the truth.  The consciousness of Lord Kive had been implanted in Peri’s body in a bid to prolong the evil Thoros-Betan’s life.  The woman he had loved was no more.

            Wailing a despairing war cry, Yrcanos turned his phaser on Peri’s violated body and emptied its cartridge into her.

            The Toymaker waved his hand over the mirror and froze the image of Peri’s mutilated corpse.  He turned to his guest, and spoke in a voice of solemn rationalism.  “These events did occur.  You were killed on Thoros-Beta.”

            Peri folded her arms across her chest.  “Oh, really?  Then why am I alive now?”

            “The scandal created by the Doctor’s trial resulted in the High Council’s changing history to make sure you were never killed.  They pulled you out of time before Crozier implanted Lord Kiv’s mind into your body and sent you and King Yrcanos to safety.”

            Peri didn’t understand the answer.  “The Doctor’s trial?”

            “Oh, yes.  You don’t know about that.  He was almost executed by his own people for meddling with the ‘inviolate laws of evolution’.  Your death was part of the evidence against him.”

            “You expect me to believe that crock?’

            “It is all the truth.”

            “I wonder if you ever tell the truth.”

            “Would those events not explain the holes in your memory?”

            “Not to my satisfaction.”

            The Toymaker was completely taken aback by her skepticism.  He thought that the Thoros-Beta clip would decisively crush her will to rescue either Yrcanos or the Doctor.  So certain was he of victory that this magnitude of resistance amazed him.

            “Like a movie with a lousy ending, your weak attempt at brainwashing had no kick.”  Peri smiled, savoring her victory.  “If you had just left it at the first two memories you just might have succeeded in turning me against the Doctor.  Yet, by throwing in that last image of something that never happened to me, you gave the whole session the feel of a complete fabrication.  You overplayed your hand, Toymaker.”

            Peri suddenly stopped.  She realized a little late that it was probably unwise to gloat in front of an almost all-powerful magician.  And yet, much to her surprise, the Toymaker seemed to enjoy the passion behind her words.  He smiled admiringly down at her and clapped his hands together.

            “Very good!” he praised.  “Very, very good!  What a skillful game master you are.  It isn’t often I am challenged by one so adept.  I concede victory to you with very little regret.”

            And I thought he was a bad loser, Peri mused.  He’s being very gracious.  Something’s up.

 

            The Doctor peered around the edge of the outcropping, his eyes wide with amazement.  He and his fellow travelers had reached the structure they had headed for to come upon an unexpected obstacle.  Lying stretched out in front of an ancient Grecian temple was the largest reptile the Doctor had ever seen.

            “What is it?” Ravner whispered in his ear.

            The Doctor turned to him and said simply, “A dragon.”

            “But they’re just myths.”

            “’There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’ – Hamlet, Prince of Denmark.”

            “I know,” Ravner frowned.  “I’m not so badly versed in Shakespeare that I can’t recognize a quote from Hamlet.  Now what are you driving at?”

            “Here, the Toymaker’s reality rules.  He makes the metaphysical physical, the surreal real, and all truth, as we know it, is thrown out the window.  Despite what you think, that dragon is very much alive and it could kill you just as easily as any bullet.”

            Ravner nodded.  “Then I’ll be careful.”

            Mel had been watching the dragon during the whole conversation and it did not move once, aside from the slow rise and fall of its chest as it breathed.  “It looks like it’s asleep.”

            “Do you think we can sneak past it?” asked Ravner.  “I doubt we can kill it.”

            “I’ll test it,” the Doctor volunteered.  “I’ll try to sneak closer to it.  If it doesn’t sense me, the rest of you can try to get by it.”

            Allene grabbed the Doctor’s arm.  “I don’t like it.  It’s too dangerous.”

            “Come on,” the Doctor teased.  “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

            “All sane Time Lords don’t have a sense of adventure.”

            The Doctor grinned.  “That’s why I left Gallifrey.”

 

            “Are your ready for your last puzzle of the session?”

            “Wait a minute!  Where’s Yrcanos?  You promised me his soul if I won this round.”

            The delight drifted from the Toymaker’s face.  “You don’t have to be in such a hurry.”

            “I want to see my results.  Free him immediately.”

            The Toymaker frowned.  “If you insist.”  He tapped his sapphire ring.  Instantly, King Yrcanos flashed into being in front of Peri.  His eyes lit up the moment he caught sight of his love.

            “Peri!”

            He rushed forward and enfolded her in his muscular arms.  Peri hugged him back, delighted to see he was alive.  Yrcanos’ body felt warm against hers.  He was no longer the lifeless wax statue Peri had seen before.  He was living, breathing, and the same wellspring of rage ready to erupt at any given moment.  The explosion came when Yrcanos noticed the presence of the Celestial Toymaker.

            “Toymaker!  I will kill you for what you have done!”  He directed a mighty punch at the Toymaker’s jaw.  Just as his fist was about to smash into the magician’s face, the force of the blow was thrust backwards upon Yrcanos, snapping his arm back.  Yrcanos drew away, clutching his wounded arm and cursing the Toymaker.  Peri went to see how badly Yrcanos had hurt himself.  She soon realized it was more through surprise than pain that he had stumbled backwards so far.

            The Toymaker shook his head at the unthinking attack.  “One of the Doctor’s early companions tried the same thing on me.  Steven Taylor.  His attack failed just as miserably as yours just did.   Whatever you throw at me I can easily turn back at you through the sheer force of my will.”

            “Shut up, fool!” Yrcanos cried.  “All you do is talk.  Stop hiding behind that mental shield of yours and fight like a man!”

            Peri once again found herself trying to soothe the wounded pride of the warrior.  “Yrcanos, please.  All that matters is you’re safe now.”

            “If your friend will allow,” the Toymaker chided, “you can commence your endeavor to save the Doctor.”

 

            The Doctor began sliding along with his back against the mountainside, keeping to the shadows.  He felt the handle of the crossbow, never taking his eyes off the lounging creature.  When he was about ten yards away, and the dragon was still slumbering, he waved a signal to the others that it was safe to follow him.

            Meanwhile, a strange scent alerted the dragon to the Gallifreyan’s presence.  It was the scent of a man and the odor was getting stronger.  Along with the aroma was a moldy, befouling, contemptible stink.  Although the dragon could not know it, its more acute sense of smell had detected the crossbow’s characteristic stench of decay and death.

 

            Beware!  Intruders outside the Sanctuary!        

            The projected thought made the Composer snap into attention.  One of the Toymaker’s creatures was trying to expose the Doctor’s presence.  It was the dragon in front of the Sanctuary.

            Oh, of only the Doctor could break into there, the Composer thought.  But, if there is any hope of release, it relies completely on the Toymaker’s ignorance.

            Luckily, she had been building up her strength again for just such an opportunity.  Frowning in concentration, she reached out with her mind, straining to intercept the warning.  In a surprisingly short time, she was able to snatch the thought out of the air and smother it.

            As a further precaution, she erected a permanent mental barrier against any further warnings to the Toymaker.  She exhaled sharply through her nose and smiled.  The Toymaker was still in the dark.  Let it remain that way.

 

            The dragon stirred, forcing the Doctor to cease all movement immediately.  A fleshy eyelid on its central head lifted, showing a dim representation of the mountainside.  When its outer eyes all opened, the conflicting images caused an insect-like, kaleidoscope effect on its vision.   Each object it took in was split into many duplicates.  While it did not see anything clearly, it knew there was an intruder.

            “Who isss there?” the dragon modulated.

            It climbed gracefully to its feet, rearing its three massive heads.  One reptilian head regarded the mountain the Doctor was hiding against with an unwavering gaze.  As the dragon’s head inched closer to the dark crevice where the Doctor lay hidden, danger of his discovery heightened.

            The Doctor watched the dragon anxiously, wondering what it would do next.  He suppressed the urge to wipe his brow and did what he could to steady his breathing.  Just when he thought discovery was certain, the head moved away and swept in the direction of the others.

            When the dragon’s gaze was getting too close to them, Allene pulled everyone down behind the outcropping.  She pressed her face and hands against the earth, closing her eyes.  She felt the presence of the dragon’s large, staring eyes as its piercing gaze examined the sediment around their hiding place.

            From his concealed position, the Doctor looked on with dismay.  Glancing down at the crossbow, he saw that the arrow was charging itself with energy.  It would be an arrow he would be forced to use if the dragon got any closer to his friends.  As he readied the weapon, the dragon continued to sweep the mountainside.  The Doctor raised the crossbow, pointing it at the dragon’s center head.

            “I only hope this thing’s got enough kick to it.”

            At the exact moment he was about to launch the arrow, the dragon stepped back.  It appeared to relax, satisfied that there were no intruders.  Relief flowed over the Doctor.  He lowered the crossbow, at once pondering his next move.

            The sound of a titanic vacuum alerted the Doctor to the danger.  The Doctor looked up in trepidation to see the creature inhaling a massive amount of air.  His companions had been discovered.  They fled from their position, each person running in a different direction to confuse the dragon.

            Not hesitating another second, the Doctor elevated his crossbow.  He squeezed the trigger, launching the arrow at the dragon.  Sensing the oncoming arrow, the head swayed to the left, barely avoiding it.

            The dragon’s attention was instantly focused on the man who had attacked it. Three sets of jaws parted, sending lethal streams of fire flowing forth from their mouths.  The Doctor dashed away from the mountain, feeling the fierce heat buffeting the wall he’s hid against an instant before.

            From her vantage point, Allene watched the dragon spew fire at the Doctor.  He had been forced out into the open, just as she had.  The only difference was, the dragon had made a mission of catching the Doctor, pursuing him relentlessly.  The Doctor had been the one to rescue her from the Dalek mind control.  She had to do something to save him.

            Since it was so concerned with the Doctor, its back was towards her.  Feeling a surge of adrenaline, she raced towards the dragon, unsheathing her sword as she charged it down.  When she got close behind it, she raised her sword in the air and drove it deep into the dragon’s hind leg.  The dragon bellowed in confused pain and rage, staggering about in pain.  Allene scarcely avoided being trampled by the tormented monster.  It raised its leg into the air and let it hang limply there, with blood running strongly form the open wound.

            The Doctor took advantage of Allene’s distraction and reset the crossbow.  The middle head ceased its faltering long enough for him to get a good fix on it.  He centered it in his sights and fired again.

            The eerily glowing arrow slashed through the dragon’s forehead.  Its face exploded in a shower of blood, pulp, and sinew.  Spasms of pain rocked the dragon.  The other two heads wailed in anguish.  Behind the flashes of searing pain, the dragon carved to destroy those who had mortally wounded it.  Its fragmented vision spotted Allene scrambling back to the cliff face in search of cover.  It realized that she was the one who had stabbed its leg.

            “Allene!” the Doctor yelled.  “Run!”

            Not looking behind her, Allene kicked up speed and ran as fast as she could towards safety.

            The dragon spat a short surge of fire at the fleeing Time Lady.  The fireball rocketed towards her, leaving a trail of fire in the sky.  It overtook her, its bright orange flames washing over her body.  There was an explosion of earth and fire. When the smoke cleared, she was nowhere to be seen.

            Leo gave a sharp intake of breath.  The fireball must have blown her body into ashes on contact.  The woman whom he had been so reluctant to trust had died in heroic combat saving the Doctor’s life.

            The two surviving dragon heads lurched drunkenly in the air until they both dropped to the ground as suddenly as a puppet that had its strings cut.  Powerless to support itself, the carcass toppled over, smashing into the structure.  The sheer mass of the dead weight shattered an entire section of the large building.  The entrance hall caved inward, sending billows of smoke and dust into the air.

            Once it was apparent the dragon was dead, Mel, Ravner, and Leo emerged from hiding and joined the Doctor.  The Doctor was visibly shaken by Allene’s death.  Everyone else was saddened by it, but the Doctor appeared more distressed.

            “Another person had died because of my incompetence.”

            “It wasn’t your fault, Doctor,” consoled Mel.

            “Wasn’t it?  She died saving me.”

            Leo rested a large paw on the Doctor’s shoulder.  “I have a feeling it was a sacrifice you would have just as easily made for her.”

            A loud coughing and spluttering came unexpectedly to their ears.  Leo and the Doctor turned to search for the source of the sound.  A grimy hand appeared from behind a mound of dust and clay and Allene pulled herself up off the floor.  Her face and clothes were covered in thick layers of dirt; her normally shiny red hair was now tangled and filled with sand.

            Ravner rushed to her side, eager to help her steady herself.  “Are you alright?”  We thought you were dead!”

            “You mean I’m not?”  Allene coughed.  She looked up to see the Doctor eyeing her, concerned.  “I’m alright.  But I could use a good regeneration sometime soon.  This body is taking some serious abuse.”

 

            The Toymaker led Peri and Yrcanos out of the room of the memory window and took them up a high spiral staircase.  As they crept carefully up the steep, narrow, and winding stairs, the Toymaker began explaining to Peri her next puzzle.

            “The last game you played, Peri, proved the strength of your will and tested the limits of your love for the Doctor.  You passed that test with ease.  The next test will be of your reason and intuition.”

            “Wonderful.”

            “There’s no need to be sarcastic.  As I was saying, it is of an entirely different nature than your last test.  Since you will be making a bid for the Doctor’s life, the test involves the Doctor himself.”

            “How so?”

            “To many of the people the Doctor encounters, he is a mystery; transient and ethereal.  A figure larger than life and the sort of person legends are written about.  The real question is ‘Who is the Doctor’?  What is important to him?  What does he represent?  What does he stand for?”

            The Toymaker cut short his explanation there, leaving Peri in suspense.  “Well?  I don’t see him that way.  I know him.  What does all that have to do with me?”

            “You know him.  Precisely.  If you do know him, then you can answer those questions.”

            “I suppose I can.”

            “Then, that is your next task.”

            They continued up the tall length of stairs, rising higher and higher above the museum floor.  Peri looked up searching for the end of the trail.  She couldn’t see it well as the stairs above her wound in the way of her vision. “What?  A quiz?”

            The Toymaker chuckled.  “The Doctor you know is a very literary inclined person.  He seems to love Shakespeare in general and ‘Hamlet’ in particular.  In that vein, I have chosen a game akin to that of the contest in ‘The Merchant of Venice’.  Out of a room filled with various and sundry objects, you will choose the one that best symbolizes the Doctor’s personality and ideals.  If you choose the correct object, the one the Doctor’s soul is imprisoned in, I will resurrect him for you.  Quite reluctantly, of course, but fair is fair.”

            “That’s true,” broke in Yrcanos.  “You’ve got him now.  Why are you willing to give him up?”

            “If the stakes are too low, there is no stimulation in the game.”

 

            Mel picked her way across the rubble of the Sanctuary’s front entrance.  She sighed, blowing a lock of hair out of her eyes.  Even being athletically inclined, she and Ravner were moving with great difficulty.  The Doctor, Allene, and Leo, however, were scaling the debris with such speed that they made travel appear simple.  The Doctor in particular moved with inhuman skill.  Despite his gangly physique, his movements displayed more hidden strength and dexterity than even the muscular Leo did.

            The difficulty with which they moved notwithstanding, the others were able to make it inside the temple shortly after the two men.  The Sanctuary was just as vast as one would expect from its exterior.  With a massive width and a high, airy ceiling, its proportions were tremendous.  The walls and floors were fashioned from grey stones that lit up the building with ghostly phosphorescence.  Curious, Mel placed her hand against one of the glistening stones.  It was cold and clammy to the touch, so she quickly pulled away.

            A stone well rose from the floor at the room’s center.  All the illumination in the room seemed to focus on it, making it shine with a divine importance.  The Doctor moved cautiously towards the well.  He had not taken more than two steps before Leo snatched him by the wrist and drew him back.  “Wait!  It may not be safe!”

            The Doctor looked curiously at Leo.  “Why? What is it?”

            Leo did not look at the Doctor when he replied.  His eyes were fixed, unwavering, on the well.  “It is the Wellspring; the source of all the Toymaker’s powers.”

            “What are you saying?” asked Mel.  “Is it a sort of giant battery?”

            “Yes.  The Toymaker created it to maintain the stability of his reality.  He draws all of his telepathic strength from it.  He uses it to open portals to other universes, to create Familiars, to resurrect the dead, to transform people into toys … its benefits are virtually endless.”

            Allene nodded.  “Is it possible for someone other than the Toymaker to make use of this power?”

            “It would not have been so heavily guarded otherwise,” Leo reasoned.  “But the user would have to be telepathic.”

            “How adept are you in that field?”

            The lion man lowered his eyes.  “As I’ve said before, Allene, my magical skills are not that powerful.”

            The Doctor scratched the back of his neck absently.  “Well, then, I suppose it’s up to me.”

            “Not just you,” Allene reminded.  “I’m a Time Lady.  I can link up with you.”

            The Doctor frowned.  “True, but I’d rather you didn’t.  I don’t know exactly what it is we’re dealing with here.”

            “I’m willing to accept the risk.”

            “No.  My friends will need you in case anything happens to me.”

            Ravner stepped in front of the Doctor.  “Wait a moment, Doctor.  Wouldn’t it be safer just to blow it up?”

            The Doctor shook his head.  “It’s not that simple.”  He gently pushed past Ravner and approached the well.  Two more careful strides took him to the side of the Wellspring.  He peered over the edge of the well at its brilliant, lucid waters.  Still and deep, the shining water clearly reflected the Doctor’s awed and intrigued expression.

            “Be careful,” cautioned Mel.

            Both Ravner and Leo watched the Doctor intently, ready to pull him away at the first sign of danger.  While they were distracted, the spidery shadow of Nyder moved stealthily into the Sanctuary.  Unobserved, he had been listening to the conversation with great interest.  He now had the answers he needed.  All he had to do was bide his time and his greatest desires would be fulfilled.

 

            Yrcanos felt another fit of passion coming on.  He knew he should have anticipated this, but that did not make his anger any less intense.  When the Toymaker said ‘a room filled with various and sundry objects’, he was being very literal.  Elegant and ornamented, the room reminded Yrcanos of a trophy room he had once seen.  Everywhere he looked hard oak tables and crystal shelves were lined with a variety of lovely trinkets.  The chamber itself was half the attraction, with a floor of shiny black tiles and bright red curtains hanging from the walls.  And yet, the beauty of the room held no joy for Yrcanos.  He merely scowled at the colossal chamber, wondering how the Toymaker expected Peri to pick one item out of all present.

            Peri was equally put out.  “Am I allowed to touch any of them without making a final choice?”

            “Yes.  Just call out to me what you feel the correct answer is and I will let you know if you have chosen wisely.”  The Toymaker turned his back on her and started off towards the exit.  “I will take my leave of you now.  Good hunting.”

            When he left, Peri placed her hands on her hips and sighed at the huge mass of choices she had.  “This isn’t going to be easy.”

            “What did you expect from him?” grumbled Yrcanos.  “He is garbage.”

            Tossing her hair in irritation, Peri began a close and thorough inspection of the nearest table.  “Let’s see: a pentagram – no.  A rose doesn’t fit.  Certainly not a skull.  A crucifix – no.  Hmmmn.  What’s this?”  Peri stopped in front of a fancy brass clock on  small wooden supports enclosed in a glass dome.  “A clock.  This is a possibility.  He is a Time Lord.”  She picked up the clock and gave it to Yrcanos to hold for her.

            Yrcanos accepted it and craned his neck in the direction of the adjacent table.  “What about that?”  The thing he indicated was a double-edged broadsword with a jewel-encrusted golden hilt that was sheathed in a case of smooth leather.

            Peri stared down at the sword doubtfully.  “Why?”

            “Because the Doctor is a warrior.”

            “No he isn’t.  He’s a pacifist.”

            Yrcanos was shocked.  “Is he?”

            “Yes,” Peri snapped.

            “The Doctor has fallen in my estimation of him.”

            “Pity.”

            Peri resumed going over each object slowly and carefully in a very systematic fashion.  Some symbols she was able to eliminate instantly: the pocket mirror, the shrunken head, the jackass, the pomegranate, the grim reaper, and so on.  Those she was uncertain of, or saw as a concrete possibility, she handed off to Yrcanos for future examination.

            “I like this one,” Peri smiled.

            She looked down on a lavish chessboard whose squares and figurines were made from red corral and ivory.  Each piece was artfully crafted into the regal and commanding image of an ancient Chinese warrior.  Peri plucked up the coral king that was a carved representation of an enthroned Kahn and ran her fingers over the surface admiringly.

            “No,” Yrcanos said at last.  “This doesn’t represent the Doctor.”

            “What about his constant battle of wills against evil?  I like the chess set analogy to his travels.”

            “It doesn’t work for me.”

            “What’s that supposed to me?”

            “The clock is a more convincing symbol.”

            Peri replaced Kahn.  “You may be right.  Let’s see what else is here.”

 

            D.J. awoke, as he often did from one of his narcoleptic attacks, in a state of confusion.  He had no idea how long he had been asleep and had very little memory of what happened just before he lost consciousness.  For some reason that he couldn’t recall, he was in the ticket booth where Mr. Pips was usually stationed.

            Shaking his weary and confused head, the ape-man left the compartment and shambled over to his bus.  He fondly patted the vehicle’s side and walked towards the museum exit.  Bored, and a little giddy as a result of the narcoleptic attack, D.J. decided it was time to recover in the Sanctuary.  He threw open the double doors, wincing when the bright sunlight streamed down into his eyes.  He shielded his vision with one long arm and trotted down the front steps.

 

            The Doctor looked deep into the hypnotic waters of the Wellspring.  Never before had he felt so languid and dispirited.  He towered over it, yet he felt dwarfed by its presence.  Its power overwhelmed him.  It wasn’t long before he was forced to tear his eyes away from the shining water. 

            “I … I can’t,” stammered the Doctor.  “It’s too strong for me.”

            “You had better, Doctor!”

            Nyder stepped out of the shadows, scowling at the Time Lord and his four companions.  He was greeted by five virtually blank stares.

            The Doctor scratched his head in confusion.  “Do I know you?”

            Only Ravner had a faint recollection of who the alien might have been.  “I think he was at the ice cavern battle.”

            Nyder ignored Ravner’s comment.  “You do, Doctor.  We met on Skaro many years ago.”

            The Doctor’s mouth twisted with disgust.  “What have they done to you, Nyder?”

            Nyder smiled a faint smile.  “So you do remember me.”

            The Doctor raised the crossbow, pointing it at Nyder’s heart.  “Enough to know you aren’t here to help us.”

            “On the contrary,” Nyder assured, “if I were here to kill you, I could have done so many a time.  I could have exposed you to the Toymaker.  And yet I haven’t.”

            “That is only because keeping us alive suits some purpose of yours.”

            “You know me well, Doctor,” Nyder nodded.  “In this case, the purpose is revenge.”

            “Against whom?” asked Ravner suspiciously.

            “Our mutual enemy, the Toymaker.  I propose a temporary alliance until he is destroyed.”

            Allene frowned.  “A Dalek representative forging an alliance with the Doctor?  The man you call ‘the Bringer of Darkness’?”

            “I said ‘temporary’,” Nyder reiterated.  “These are desperate times.  Besides, there is the off chance that the Doctor will be able to veil the Toymaker’s life in darkness, the same way he has the lives of my people.  That is why I want you all to claim dominance over the Wellspring.”

 

            Peri moved all the objects off of one table and spread them out among the other tables.  Once a space was clear, she had Yrcanos put all the finalists in their decision down so they could be examined more closely.  All that remained out of the entire room were six choices.  There was the seal of the Prydonian Chapter of the Time Lords of Gallifrey; a blindfolded female statue clutching a sword and the justice scales; a small, floating orb that radiated pure white light; an umbrella with a crimson question mark handle; a white cat made from expensive china; and the clock Peri had picked up at the beginning.

            “Is there anything here that can go immediately?” wondered Peri aloud.

            Yrcanos pointed an accusing finger at the china cat.  “What is that doing there?”

            “The Doctor likes cats,” Peri protested.

            “Get it out of there.”

            “Okay.”

            Once the cat was abandoned to a nearby table, Yrcanos turned his critical attention to the glowing orb.  “What is that supposed to represent?”

            “Have you ever heard light compared to truth and illumination?”

            Yrcanos shook his head.

            Peri really didn’t expect him to have.  It was a little too spiritual a concept for Yrcanos.  “No, I suppose not.”

            “Is the Doctor really so pure and knowledgeable that he can be represented by that?”

            Yrcanos’ point was a valid one, and destroyed all Peri’s belief that the orb was the correct answer.  “It is a little too Jesus-like for the Doctor.  He may be a great man, but he isn’t the Messiah.  So, we can scratch that off our list.”

            Yrcanos plucked up the orb and tossed it over his shoulder.  “Good-bye orb.  Even the chess set was a better choice than a stupid glowing ball.”

            “The chess set was a good choice,” Peri said defensively.

            Yrcanos scooped up the umbrella and looked down on it with a sour expression.  “And why did you pick this thing?”

            “It has a question mark handle,” Peri explained.

            “’A question mark handle’?” Yrcanos snorted.  “Are you for real? ‘A question mark handle’?”

            “He likes question marks,” Peri offered feebly.

            “I’ve heard of a lot of people liking a lot of strange things, but I’ve never heard of anybody who went wild over question marks.”

            “I like them.  They’re cute.”

            “They’re cute.”  Yrcanos rolled his eyes.  “I am so glad you didn’t have to chose an object to save me or I’d still be a wax statue.”

            “The Doctor had question marks imprinted on his collar,” Peri protested.  “They must stand for something.”

            “All that means is he’s pretentious.”

            Peri sighed.  “So, you think it’s a red herring?”

            Instead of answering, Yrcanos hurled the umbrella off to the side and it slammed into a whole section of discarded options.

            Peri looked down at the remaining three options.  Sitting on the table was the clock, the Prydonian Seal, and the female justice statue.  Peri lifted the Prydonian Seal and examined it for a long moment.  Was it too obvious?  Or was she about to throw out the correct answer by abandoning it?   “I don’t know.  I’m not sure.”

            “What is that?”

            Peri scratched the side of her head.  “It’s from his home planet.  I can’t figure out if it’s right or not.”

            “Do the customs and ideals of the Doctor’s home planet reflect the Doctor himself?”

            Peri shook her head.  “No.  Not at all.  The Prydonian Chapter of Time Lords represents a part of the Doctor’s life that he abandoned when he left Gallifrey.  This may have once been him, but it is no longer.”  Peri let the emblem drop to the floor and stared at the final two: the clock and the justice scales.  “With all the others gone, I think the answer seems pretty obvious, don’t you, Yrcanos?”

            Yrcanos beamed.  “You are confident you have the answer?”

            “Definitely.”

            “It’s the clock, isn’t it?”

            Peri drew back.  “Oh, no!  It’s the justice statue!”

            A confused look passed over Yrcanos’ face.  “It is?”

            “Of course!”

            Yrcanos shrugged.  “I thought it was the clock.”

            Peri cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted.  “Toymaker!  I have the answer to your riddle!  It’s the justice scales!”

 

            The Toymaker slammed his fist down on the card table.  “That damnable witch!  How did she know the answer?”

            The Composer chuckled, delighted with her captor’s fury.  **I thought you liked a challenging opponent.**

            “I hate to lose,” the Toymaker snarled.  “You know I do.  And losing to that young, naïve girl galls me the most.  Well, if she wants the Doctor back, she can have him.”

            The Toymaker reached deep into his robe’s pocket and withdrew a scroll of yellow parchment that was sealed shut with red melted wax.  He broke the seal and unraveled the paper on the table.  A black feather quill materialized in his waiting hand.  He hastily scribbled his signature at the bottom of the scroll as he reread the text of the message.

            **What is that?** asked the Composer.

            “My last resource for victory.”

            “What happened here?” D.J. cried.

            Astounded, he stared down at the corpse of the guardian of the Sanctuary.  One of its heads had been shot off, leaving a gory red stump at the end of the neck.  Warm blood was still oozing from the wound, so the body was still fresh.  That meant its killers were nearby.  D.J. placed his fingers to his temples, trying to send a message of warning to the Toymaker.  He was unable to make contact.  Another consciousness was blocking the telepathy.

            D.J. grit his teeth together.  “Composer, you bitch!”

            Just as he knew there was only one person who could intercept his message, he knew there could only be one man bold and intelligent enough to breech the Sanctuary defenses.  The Doctor was here, in the Toyroom, without the Toymaker’s knowledge.  There was no time to lose.  The Doctor must not be allowed to reach the well.  Realizing he had to face the crisis alone, D.J. ran briskly for the ruined Sanctuary entrance, never once stumbling over the rubble as he hurried.

 

            “It’s about time,” Peri scowled.

            The Toymaker strode happily into the treasure room, brandishing his scroll.   “I must congratulate you once again for a superb performance.”

            “Right.  I bet beneath all that charm you’re just about to explode.”

            “Trust me,” the Toymaker warned.  “You don’t want to know what my true feelings are.”

            “So, I have beat you.”

            “Yes.”

            “Then bring me the Doctor.”

            The Toymaker sucked his teeth.  “Such impatience.”

            “Bring me the Doctor,” Peri repeated levelly.

            The Toymaker unraveled the scroll for Peri to see.  “Once you have signed this, I will be happy to turn him over to you.”

            “What is it?”

            “Read it for yourself.”

            Peri took the parchment from the Toymaker and examined the bold calligraphy writing.

 

            “This is to certify that I, Perpugilliam Brown, have successfully completed all of the competitions planned out for me by the Celestial Toymaker.  I was one of a handful of survivors of a massacre on Shardonia; I successfully escaped Dalek occupied Gallifrey after posing as one of the enemy’s elite; I have changed the course of history, guaranteeing the Dalek defeat; I have resisted brainwashing at the hands of the memory window to reclaim the soul of King Yrcanos; and I discovered the symbol that served as the key to the Doctor’s freedom.  I claim ultimate victory.  Having accomplished all this, I demand freedom for the Doctor, King Yrcanos, and myself.”

 

            There was a space left at the bottom for Peri to sign right above the area where the Toymaker certified the claim.  The Toymaker proffered Peri his quilt pen for the signature.  She refused to take it.  “Why is this necessary?”

            “It is only a formality – like the ticket I gave you when you first arrived.”

            “To hell with it.  I’m not signing it.”

            “You must sign it.”  The Toymaker still spoke very softly, but with a strong, threatening overtone.

            “I will not.  I’ve won.  You know it, I know it, and Yrcanos knows it.  There is no need to sign this.”

            “You will sign it if your ever want to get out of here.  Otherwise, you will remain in the Toyroom with your two men forever.”

            Yrcanos shrugged.  “Why don’t you sign it?  I see no way he can have hidden a trap in those words.  There are all very straightforward.”

            Peri looked the Toymaker directly in the eyes.  “Very well,” she said slowly.  “I’ll consider signing it.   But only if you bring the Doctor to me first.”

            Seeing there was no arguing with her, the Toymaker bowed politely.  “That is reasonable.”

            The moment after the words escaped his lips, the doors to the treasure room were flung open and Peri’s Doctor came rushing in.  “Peri!”

            She handed off the scroll to the Toymaker and rushed into the Doctor’s arms.  “Oh, Doctor!  Thank God you’re alright!”

            The Doctor broke free of the embrace and looked at her tenderly.  “I’m fine, Peri.   How are you?  You aren’t hurt?”

            “No,” she assured him.  “I’m well.”

            Yrcanos shifted uncomfortably as he watched the reunion.  The love Peri showed the Doctor in that one moment was far greater than all the affection she showed him during the course of their entire relationship.  Jealousy and sadness would have plunged him into depression if he were not King of the Krontep.  A man in his position was not capable of going to pieces over a mere female.  Not even one so incredibly beautiful.

            The Doctor slowly moved away from her and glared at the Toymaker.

            The Toymaker smiled back at the Doctor’s mean face.  “You should be happy, Doctor.  If not for Peri, you would be quite dead; the victim of your archenemies, the Daleks.  She risked her soul to save you.”

            The Doctor returned his gaze to Peri.  His expression changed from angry to affectionate.  “I know.  She took such a great risk for me.”

            “Doctor,” Peri began, “the Toymaker wants me to sign a declaration of victory.”

            “Does he?”  He turned on the Toymaker and raised an intrigued eyebrow.  “Is it that scroll you’re holding?”

            “Yes.”

            The Doctor outstretched his arm for the scroll.  When the Toymaker held it back, the Doctor sniffed impatiently and began to snap his fingers at the magician.  “Come on, come on!  Hand it over.”

            The Doctor tore the reluctantly proffered parchment from the Toymaker’s grasp and began to pore over it with intense interest.   When he had completed a comprehensive study of the note, he looked up at the Toymaker with a knowing grin.  “’I claim ultimate victory.’  That’s what the scroll says. ‘I claim ultimate victory.’”

            The Toymaker tried to conceal his disgust.  He knew the Doctor would discover the concealed trap.  That was why he wanted Peri to sign it before the Time Lord had had a chance to look at it.

            “Yes,” Peri agreed.  “But what does it mean?”

            “It is all part of the game,” the Doctor explained.  “There are winning and losing stakes on both sides.  When the Toymaker sets up an entire string of games, his bargaining chip is the continued existence of his current Toyroom.  The exact moment the Toymaker is ultimately defeated, his entire Toyroom vaporizes.”

            Peri nodded.  “I knew that scroll was some sort of booby trap.”

            “If you had signed this, the entire planet would have exploded, killing all of us in the holocaust.  All of us, except the Toymaker, of course.  It reminds me of the Game of Rassilon.  ‘To lose is to win, and he who wins shall lose.’”

            The Toymaker took the scroll back and replaced it in his pocket.  “You may later change your mind about signing it.  Death is the only release open to you.  You cannot leave here until ultimate victory is declared.  You will be trapped here with me forever.”

            Peri held the Doctor’s arm for support.  “Is this true?”

            The Doctor nodded slowly.  “Yes.  The only reason I managed to escape the situation last time was because I had the TARDIS with me.  Now I don’t even have that.”

            Yrcanos grit his teeth angrily.  “Then we’re trapped.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirty-three

 

            “Now, I want to make something perfectly clear,” urged the dark haired Doctor.  “I am about to put myself into a deep trance.  Under no circumstances is anybody to touch me or call my name or do anything to me.  Any distraction at all could kill me.  Is that clear?”

            All present nodded in unison.  Nyder was the only one who was not disturbed at all by the prospect of such an event.

            “Good.”  He handed the crossbow off to Ravner.  “Keep an eye on Nyder.”

            “With pleasure.”

            Then the Doctor urged everyone to step away from the Wellspring.  He climbed onto the edge of the well, folding his legs under himself.  Almost as if in prayer, he pressed the tips of his fingers together, beginning his meditation.  Both bright blue eyes glazed over, as the awareness seeped from h is features.  As he slipped deeper and deeper into the coma-like state, his four companions tensed anxiously.

            Nyder clenched and unclenched his fists impatiently.  He began pacing back and forth alongside the rubble of the front entrance, shaking his head and muttering.  The shell shock of the day’s events was finally beginning to wear off, leaving him shaken and melancholy.  In the space of a few hours, his life as he knew it was destroyed.  Now all he lived for was the opportunity to drag the destroyer down with him.  That opportunity would be denied him.

            D.J. appeared out of nowhere, leaping at Nyder.  Nyder’s shout of surprise was cut off as the ape-man’s hands grasped his throat in a vise-like grip.

            Leo, Mel, Allene, and Ravner spun around to see the two monsters struggling viciously with one another.  Nyder lifted up his front two legs and drove them into D.J.’s stomach.  Clutching his chest, D.J. staggered back against the wall, letting his prey loose.  Nyder wasn’t about to let the Familiar recover.  A surge of electricity exploded from the creature’s talons.  It knifed through the air and lashed into the ape’s skin.  Bellowing and flailing about, he stood his ground despite the excruciating agony he felt.  Though Nyder kept pouring wave after wave of electricity into D.J., the ape-man gradually started to walk towards his enemy.  Through the pain, he advanced on Nyder.

            Ravner didn’t like the resistance D.J. was building.  He could tell that Nyder was weakening and wouldn’t be able to keep up the assault much longer.  To keep the ape- man at a disadvantage, Ravner hefted the crossbow in the air and pulled the trigger.  A white-hot arrow whistled through the air towards D.J.

            Out of the corner of his eye, D.J. saw the arrow racing towards him.  He reacted instantly.  Timing it perfectly, D.J. thrust his arm out and snatched the glowing arrow out of the air when it was in mid-flight.  Brandishing the arrow in his cut and bloodied hands like it was a trophy, D.J. guffawed.

            Ravner was so shocked by the act that his mouth hung open as he lowered the crossbow.

            Feeling the heat eat away at his fingers, D.J. knew he had to get rid of it quickly.  He snapped his arm forward and hurled the arrow at Nyder.  The Imperial had no time to act as the arrow swooped towards him.  An instant later, the glowing blade plunged into his chest, tearing through bone and cartilage.  It punched through his heart and spinal column, bursting out the other side of his body, sending spouts of blood gushing out his back.  Nyder hung in the air for several seconds before his eight legs gave out and he collapsed in a gory heap.  His blood flowed freely over the stone floor, forming a crimson puddle around his body.

            D.J. savored the killing, as he always did, by drinking in the sight of the body and grinning to himself.  It was through this indulgence that he was not prepared for the counterattack.  Leo clutched his two hands together and brought them down on the back of D.J.’s neck.   The unexpected blow sent D.J. slamming to the floor.

            He rolled over, struggling to get up again.  Leo’s foot rammed into his face, knocking his head back into the wall.  Unrelenting, Leo raised his leg in the air and stomped repeatedly on the prostrate ape.  On the next stomp, D.J. snatched Leo’s ankle and pushed it into the air.  Thrown off balance, the lion man crashed to the floor.

            The two creatures wrestled on the ground, striking at each other with such force that Mel and Ravner could hear the bones crunching.  Ravner was tempted to fire again, but he couldn’t get a clear shot at D.J.  Remembrance of what had happened last time prevented him form trying to find one.

            D.J. got on top of Leo, crashing his fist into Leo’s mouth, and knocking loose two front teeth.  He followed up with a double shot to Leo’s chest.  Leo squirmed underneath, simultaneously blocking blows while groping for D.J.’s eyes with his sharp claws.  As blow after blow struck Leo’s face, his head began to flop back and forth, hazily.  When D.J. sensed Leo was weakest, he seized the sides of Leo’s head with his hands.  As he did before with Trevor, he channeled a scorching white light into Leo’s skull.

            Deep wrinkles were etched into his face by D.J.’s aging field.  Leo’s formerly rich brown mane began to curl and wither away.  Roaring painfully, his tail swished about on the floor.  The strength of his cry began to fade as his powerful voice cracked.  He fought desperately to absorb the energy that was destroying his body, but could do nothing to save himself.

            In several places, his fur shed, leaving only pale, blistered flesh underneath.   Soon, his tail grew brittle and cracked off his body like a dry twig.  Agonized tears ran from Leo’s eyes as he felt the sharp pain of it dropping away.  The moment it hit the floor, it decomposed into a mass of green ooze.  Leo threw a feeble punch at D.J. that landed softly on the ape’s shoulder and rolled off, useless.  Leo’s eyes rolled back into his head as he felt his life slipping away.

            Sensing that Leo was dying, Allene knew she was his last hope for survival.  She charged down D.J., sending her fist crashing across the ape’s face.  A dribble of blood flew from D.J.’s mouth and splattered on the wall.  The white field that engulfed Leo stopped as if a switch had been turned it off.  Moaning, Leo’s head flopped back and forth like a fish on dry land.

            Still pinning Leo to the floor, D.J. turned his beady eyes on Allene just in time to see her hurl a second punch at him.  He caught Allene’s fist in his large paw and held it fast.  D.J. brought up his other arm and cracked it against Allene’s elbow.  Her face contorted with agony as she felt the bone break.

            Barely alive, Leo shook free of his weakened haze to see that Allene was in danger.  Raising his arm into the air, he swiped his paw across D.J.’s face.  Leo’s long claws raked across D.J.’s eyes, blinding him.  Howling, D.J. released Allene and staggered off to Leo.  He dropped to his knees and clutched at his wounded face.

            With returning strength, Leo pushed himself off the floor.  He faltered up to his crumpled enemy, trying to ignore the pain and nausea that wracked his body.  Leo dug his fingers into the fur behind D.J.’s head and dragged the wailing ape over to the Wellspring.  The evil Familiar’s limp form suddenly lashed out blindly.  The shot was well estimated, but Leo managed to dodge it easily.

            Avoiding the meditating Doctor, he tugged D.J. up to the edge of the deep waters.  D.J. moved to strike out at Leo again.  Before he could act, Leo smashed him in the nose.  There was a tremendous splash as D.J. toppled over the edge of the Wellspring and landed in the deep water.  Then Leo collapsed in a heap on the floor, breathing shallowly.

            The pool came alive the moment D.J. fell in it.  It rose up as if to consume him and churned with an incredible violence.  He thrashed about, trying to keep his head above water but the strong pull of the current weighed him down.  Burning hot water rushed into his mouth and nose, filling his lungs and scorching his insides.  With one final, vicious pull, the water swallowed D.J. whole, dragging him down to its depths.  Moments later, the swirling water settled and was once again calm.

            Some of the water from the splash spilled over the edge of the well and soaked the Doctor’s pants.  He was in no condition to notice.  Shivering, his face pale and soaked with perspiration, the Doctor seemed to be on the verge of convulsions.  The effort was excruciating.  He had tried to put all physical disturbances out of his mind, but the sensation of a nearby struggle was too distracting.  At critical moments in his communion effort, these distractions wracked him with pain, and he was slow in recovering.  

            Allene pulled herself to her feet, staring about groggily.  She drew in an alarmed breath when she caught sight of the Doctor.  Ignoring the surprised and alarmed shouts of her companions, she made straight for the Doctor and placed her hands on his shoulders.  The moment she touched him, his head jerked back and his mouth opened in a silent scream.  Allene momentarily sensed Mel moving to intervene, but brushed aside the perception as irrelevant.  Clearing her mind of all thoughts save merging with the Doctor, she closed herself off from fear and compassion, knowing emotion would only doom her efforts.

            The more she concentrated the more at ease the Doctor became.  Slowly, she felt his stiffened muscles relax and his tense expression ease.  She gently healed the Doctor of all pain and gradually began to reinforce his mental strength.  Once the Doctor recovered enough from his ordeal to resume the fight, she pitted their combined minds against the Wellspring’s defenses.  This time, the battle was in their favor.  So powerful was the force of their combined might that they took hold of the Wellspring in a matter of minutes.  Their minds had not only gained dominance over, but merged with, its mysterious waters.

            Allene and the Doctor became one with the Wellspring.   They were aware of every inch of the Celestial Toyroom, of its character, and of its every purpose.  But they were strangers to its inner workings and were uncertain.  Now that they were finally able to influence the core of the Toymaker’s power, they weren’t sure that they could.  They felt confident enough to set forward a chain of events, but not in their ability to maintain control once this was done.

            Nevertheless, it was a chance he had to take.

 

            The Toymaker led the Doctor, Peri, and Yrcanos into the wax statue exhibit room.  “Remember, Doctor, you were in your original incarnation the last time you saw one of my Toyrooms?  Over five-hundred-and-four years have passed, but it seems like only yesterday.”

            When he heard the remark, the Doctor harrumphed.

            “You were on the verge of ‘ultimate victor’ then also,” the Toymaker continued.  “You were desperate for escape.  Do you remember how I advised you in your dilemma?”

            “Not really.”  The Doctor’s eyebrows drew together in thought.  “It was so long ago.”

            The Toymaker was able to completely conceal his irritation at being forgotten.  “I offered you and your companion power.  I wanted you to join me and to be my partner.  You flatly refused, of course.  I should have known you would.”

            The Doctor followed the Mandarin’s gaze, his eyes widening with recognition when they rested on the Great Composer, who stood staring wrathfully at the Toymaker.

            The Composer frowned.  “I thought I’d finally found one in the Composer but even she turned out to be a bore.  I’ve wanted a consort for ages.”

            The Doctor nodded. “Then I’ll make a deal with you.  If you release us all, I’ll buy you a dog.”

            Yrcanos was more interested in what the Toymaker had to say than the Doctor was.  “What kind of power were you offering?’

            The Toymaker waved dismissively at Yrcanos.  “You alone are not suited to my needs.”

            Yrcanos bristled but refrained from doing anything physical.

            “There aren’t many Eternals with his vast resources of power,” the Doctor explained.  “In fact, he and the Composer are of a minority of maybe a few hundred High Eternals out of thousands of normal Eternals.  While they are admired for their abilities, many of them place themselves under a sort of self-imposed exile because they feel … too different.  In many ways I can sympathize with that.”  The Doctor faced the Toymaker.  “But the answer is still ‘no’.”

            “Your answer is irrelevant now.  It’s too late for you to accept the offer.  I can no longer be so generous to one I’ve grown to despise.”

            Disillusioned, and gradually becoming more desperate to escape, Peri began looking about for any sign of a chink in the Toymaker’s armor.  As she looked around, she noticed her friend Runcible, who was now no more than a rigid museum exhibit.  Stepping over the red rope that surrounded it, she approached the forlorn statue and gently touched Runcible’s hand.  It was cold and hard.  Looking up, she could see an expression of fear and misery permanently imprinted on his face.

            Then, she saw it.

            His eyes moved.

            She thought her vision was deceiving her, but when she looked again, his formerly glassy brown eyes were becoming wet and alert.  They moved to the side, as they became aware of their surroundings.  A bewildered smile spread across Peri’s face as she felt Runcible’s lifeless wax skin soften under her touch.  Blood circulated in the veins under the newly pink, human flesh.  His chest rose and fell falteringly as air was again forced in and out of his lungs.

            Peri eyed the Toymaker fearfully, but he seemed to have no knowledge of the change overcoming Runcible.  She returned her gaze to the now human Runcible and whispered to him, “Runcible?  Are you alright?”

            The Gallifreyan flexed his fingers to get the stiffness out, but said nothing.

            “Runcible?”

            He looked down at Peri.  His stare was blank and zombie-like.  Aware and intelligence were there in his eyes, but not real life.  After a moment, he ignored her totally, drawing his attention to the Toymaker.

            “Runcible?  What’s wrong?”

            A piercing scream filled Peri’s ears.  Her head whipped around abruptly to see the Toymaker yelling in anguish.  He was doubled over with pain and took five steps forward to maintain his balance.  Confused and agitated, the Toymaker raised a hand to his head and tried to focus his thoughts.  As he went through these sudden motions, the Doctor, Peri, and Yrcanos stared at him curiously.  Only the Composer seemed unsurprised at the Toymaker’s attack.  She smiled urbanely at the Doctor.  It was an expression he had difficulty interpreting.

            Still anguished, the Toymaker yelled, “Doctor!  Where are you?  What have you done?”

            The accusation befuddled the Doctor.  “What are you talking about?  I’m right here!”

            “Not you, fool!” the Toymaker cried.  “Your younger self!”

            “I’m here?”  The Time Lord was completely taken aback.  Information was coming thick and fast for even his taste.

            His pain apparently subsided, the Toymaker’s jaw set into a grim line and he lowered his hand from his head.  The only thing that could have caused him so much pain was the death of his Familiar, D.J.  If D.J. was dead, that meant the Sanctuary and the Wellspring were both in jeopardy.  He would have to act immediately.  Swishing his long robes, he marched deliberately down the center aisle.  The Composer did not flinch as the wrathful enchanter bore down on her.  “It seems my control over you isn’t as complete as I thought.  I’ll deal with you once I have taken care of the Doctor.”

            The Toymaker tapped his sapphire ring to teleport himself to the Wellspring.  His body gradually faded away.  Just when it seemed he would disappear completely, he  blipped like a disrupted television signal and solidified.  He was still there.  Why didn’t he transport?  Startled, the Toymaker held his hands in front of his face, willing them to disappear.

            ***Your powers are deserting you,** the Composer grinned.  **The weaker you become, the faster I regain the power you have suppressed in me.  Already I feel stronger.**

            A blue fire crackled around the Toymaker’s left hand.  As he prepared to show the Composer who the strong one really was, he felt the room around him changing.  One moment it was just as fit always was, the next it was warped, like an out of focus picture.  Heights and distances changed and objects seemed to merge.  The dizzying sight appeared and disappeared, growing more and more unstable.

            A sudden eruption shook the chamber, tossing everyone aside.  The Doctor and Peri were thrown against the base of Matrisa’s exhibit, pulling down the thick protective ropes and brass supports with them.  Yrcanos managed to resist the force of the upheaval for a few seconds longer before he too was downed by it.

            As those around her were thrown to the floor by the convulsions, the Composer stood her ground, with her fists clenched at her sides and her eyes staring off into the distance.  She seemed oblivious to the disturbances, and did nothing to protect herself from the raw fury of the tempest.

            It was now obvious to the Toymaker that someone other than himself was in control of the Toyroom and that that someone had no idea what he was doing.  The Mandarin outstretched his arms and concentrated, mentally binding the Toyroom together, preventing the reality warps from destroying it.  The effort, which would have normally been nominal, consumed much of the finite power left to him.

            Yrcanos looked about the now calm room with surprise.  The disturbance had  come and gone with such speed that he was caught off guard more by the new peace than the initial explosion.  He realized he’d been holding in a breath all this time and released it.  He had encountered more dangers in his campaigns than even he could remember, but those he hated the most were the ones he was helpless to combat.  Unfortunately, since he’d met the Doctor, he came up against those kinds of dangers more and more frequently.

            The Toymaker allowed himself a slight smile when he saw all the damage to his Toyroom seemed to be repaired.  Eyeing the whole of the chamber to make sure all was well, he was to receive his second shock.  Leaving him no respite from the blast, he noticed for the first time that the wax statues were coming alive of their own will.

            Everywhere, wax skin and metal joints turned to flesh and bone.  Inanimate bodies now moved of their own strength and will.  General Islat Jenner’s blue skin glistened and his dorsal fin twitched with life.  The wax casings of the Daleks dissolved into the sleek, glossy finish of their natural Dalekonium armor.  The Red Dalek’s long dormant Gatling gun twitched on its ball-bearing.  The reconstructed skeleton of Trevor Madison flexed its bony fingers.  Its cracked skull regarded the Toymaker hatefully with its two, vacant eye sockets.  A gold tooth filling glinted as the skull’s lipless mouth grinned with anticipation.

            The Toymaker tapped h is sapphire ring and made a commanding gesture with his left arm.  “Back, all of you!  I command you to return to your stands!”

            One by one, they stepped off their pedestals and past the red ropes that surrounded them.

            “I order you to go back!”

            The vengeful predators continued to close in.

            The Toymaker looked to the Composer as the source of the insurrection.  “End this now, or I will kill you!”

            The Composer nodded in the direction of the animated statues.  **I will end this when you face a reckoning for what you have done.**

            With a mixture of hope and apprehension, the Doctor watched the reborn slaves close in on the Toymaker.  He and his companions stood between the Toymaker and his undead attackers.  He was very anxious to breech the attack formation, knowing full well they could easily be caught in the conflict.  Yet he feared the animated exhibits themselves more than the coming crossfire.  Though they seemed human and moved naturally, they had about them an air that was zombie-like.  People whom the Doctor had known – Jenner, Runcible, Goth, and even Matrisa – seemed little more than walking corpses; shadows of the people they had been.

            Among those forming the net around the Toymaker was Davros, who was flanked by the Blue and the Special Weapons Daleks.  The three Imperials were headed inexorably towards the Doctor, followed close behind by over a dozen more of their kind.  Peri must have been painfully aware of them as well, for her grip on his arm tightened.

            There was a low hum as the Dalek guns gathered up energy and prepared to fire.  Yrcanos and the Doctor tensed, steeping protectively in front of Peri just as Davros drew near.  Yet the deranged warlord passed by his archenemy without even a glance of recognition.  Davros’ convoy ignored the three humanoids as well.  They wanted only the Toymaker. 

            Showing no fear, the Mandarin backed away.  When he knew he was close to the exit doors, he whirled around and tried to escape through them.  Anticipating this, the Composer snapped her fingers.  The heavy oak doors whipped shut in the Toymaker’s face.  He rested his palm against the door and lowered his head.  For the first time, in that one moment, Peri saw him as a vulnerable, old man.  He turned to face his rebelling toys with a sad smile etched across his face.  “So, it’s come to this, has it?”

            The Special Weapons Dalek fired a surge of radiation at the Toymaker.  At the last second, the magician managed to throw up a small force field to protect him. The radiation struck the field with tremendous force, pushing the Toymaker back.  Unable to withstand the strength of the attack, his defenses collapsed at the same moment the energy assault broke off.

            The Toymaker retaliated by launching another fireball at the Special Weapons Dalek.  The fire spiraled through the air, made it half way towards its target, before it burnt itself out.  Only a small flicker of flame reached the Dalek and did little more than light up a sense globe.

            The last vestiges of power left to the Toymaker were gone.  He knew his only hope was escape.  He vainly tried to elude capture, but he had nowhere to run.  He was trapped.  In moments, they were upon him.  Trevor was the first to grab him, tearing his skin with bony fingers and dragging him down.  The Toymaker disappeared under a wave of attackers as they wreaked their vengeance upon him.

            No longer able to watch the grisly sight, the Doctor turned away.  He heard the Toymaker let out a gruesome scream, and he closed his eyes.  Violence always sickened him, even when it was done to an enemy, but he knew there was no other way.  The screaming continued for only a few seconds more before a somber silence fell over the room.

            Their task completed, the undead creatures pulled away from their prey.  They looked down on him impassively, showing neither satisfaction nor repulsion at the sight of him.  They merely stood, silently, their eyes wide and staring.  Then, all at once, their legs buckled out from under them.  Like marionettes without a puppeteer to support them, they dropped to the floor, their strings cut.

            When they all fell, the Doctor’s path was clear.  Slow and somber, he approached the fallen figures.  They were once again lifeless, inanimate objects.  They posed no threat to anyone anymore.  He cautiously stepped over them, making his way towards the Toymaker.  He sat on his heels next to the Mandarin and touched the robed magician’s neck.  The sensation of touching the skin caused the Doctor to recoil. He pulled his hand away, disgusted.  Instead of normal flesh, the Toymaker’s skin had turned to hard, cold, wax.

            The Doctor felt the shadows of Peri and Yrcanos fall over him.  In his bass, rumbling voice, Yrcanos asked, “Is he slain?”

            The Doctor nodded.  “He lost the game.  Now he himself has been turned into a toy … a wax dummy.”

            Yrcanos approved.  “Poetic justice.”

            The Doctor stared into the Toymaker’s now dead, plastic eyes.  It was an ancient Gypsy belief that the last image a man saw before death was forever imprinted on his eyes.  To his silent horror, the Doctor saw a picture in the Mandarin’s eyes.  It was the last sight the Toymaker saw before he died; the two, eyeless sockets of Trevor’s skull glaring with a deathly fury as vengeance was finally satisfied.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirty-four

 

            Leo was dying.  Ravner and Mel’s best efforts were nowhere near good enough.  They felt him slipping away before their eyes and were powerless to save him.  He looked up at Mel’s sad face and touched it with his paw.

            “Have we won?” he asked weakly.

            Mel had no way of knowing whether or not the Doctor and Allene had succeeded, but it didn’t matter.  She just wanted him to die happy.  “Yes.  We’ve won.”

            As Mel spoke, she sensed the Doctor and Allene breaking free of their trance.

            “Good,” Leo swallowed.  “Where’s … where’s my Mistress?  Is she safe?”

            Ravner gave Leo a reassuring smile.  “She’s safe.”

            “Yes,” Mel confirmed.  “And she’s very  … proud of you.”

            Leo’s eyes looked about expectantly.  “Where is she?  Why isn’t she here?”

            “You’ll see her.  I promise you will.”

            Leo’s voice grew weaker and more despondent.  “Where is she?  I want to see her.”

            **I am here, Leo.**  The Composer knelt by Leo’s side and smiled compassionately at him.

            Leo’s strained face broke into a frail smile.  “You are safe.  That’s good.  I’ve tried so hard to find you.”

            **I know you have.**

            “I only wish I could have rescued you personally.”

            The Composer shook her head.  **That isn’t important.  What’s important is you getting better.**

            “I think I’ve about had it,” Leo coughed.

            **Don’t say that,** she scolded.  **Do you think you have the strength to use your energy absorbing powers?**

            “Not really.”

            **Yes you do.**  The Composer placed her hands over Leo’s chest.  **I want you to use it now.**

            The air between her hand and Leo’s body clouded over.  Perfume scented wisps of smoke curled over Leo’s body, nourishing and soothing it.  A warm glow came from Leo’s chest as he absorbed the effects of the Composer’s mist.  She remained in a rigid pose for ten seconds, feeding her Familiar’s strength.  On the eleventh, she rose gracefully and looked down on the cloaked lion.

            **Now, stand.**  She spread her hands apart, clearing the smoke from Leo’s body.

            Mel’s mouth dropped open in astonishment.  No longer did the effects of D.J.’s death field ravage Leo.  All of his wrinkles and scars were gone.  His frame was once again large and youthful, his body intact, and his thick mane full and glistening.  Once again feeling strength and health rippling through him, he let out a mighty roar of pleasure.  Happy and relieved, Mel and Ravner laughed at the sound of the deafening bellow.

            The Composer was just as pleased as Leo, but kept her emotions subtle.  She was touched beyond words when Leo knelt before her and kissed her hand.  “Thank you, my lady.  I am forever indebted to you.”

            She ran her soft fingers through his luminous brown mane.  **Hardly, Leo.  I am indebted to you.  Now get up, you’re embarrassing me.**

            Leo chuckled and stood up humbly.

             The Composer nodded in the direction of the Doctor, Peri, and Yrcanos.  **I believe you all know each other.**

            “Doctor!” Mel cried happily.  “You’re alive!”

            “Of course I am.”

            “How did you escape?” asked Ravner.

            The younger, dark-haired Doctor stepped between Ravner and the blond Doctor and tossed his trailing scarf over his shoulder.  “He escaped because the Toymaker is finished.”

            “You.”  The older Doctor frowned the moment he noticed his younger self.  “What have you been meddling with?”

            “Well, it’s good to see you too, Doctor.”

            “Don’t be flip with me.  I want to know if it was you who attacked the Toymaker.”

            The younger Doctor shook his head.  “Certainly not!  I’m not that brutal.  I had no control over the … the statues.  They acted of their own ill once I freed them.”

            “’Freed them’,” Peri repeated thoughtfully.  “What of Runcible and the others?” she asked, addressing the Composer.  “Don’t you have the power to bring them back like the Toymaker brought back the Doctor and Yrcanos?”

            The Composer lowered her eyes. **Yes.  And that’s the worst part.**  She looked over at the blond Doctor.  **You do understand, don’t you?**

            “I do.”  He understood perfectly because he experienced the guilt himself.  Since he possessed a time machine, there were many times when he had been tempted to change history.  He had the power to save his friend Adric from being murdered by the Cybermen, but knew the consequences of such an action.

            **I know it is little consolation, but I can help you get home.**  With a broad sweep of her arm, she sliced open a portal in the air.  Through it, two Police Boxes of slightly different outward appearance emerged.  Directing their approach with her outstretched right hand, she lowered them to the ground.  **Here are both of your TARDISes.  I’ll leave it to you where you wish to go.**

            “Thank you, Great Composer,” said the young Doctor.

            The Composer bowed politely.  **You’re welcome.  And please, just call me ‘Composer’.  ‘Great’ implies that I am better than you are.  I’d not allow my name to be that pompous.**

            “There’s a woman who knows illustriousness when she sees it,” the blond Doctor whispered secretly to Peri.

            “Of course, Doctor.”

            **It’s time Leo and I were going.**

            The Composer and Leo warmly shook the hands of all present in a final gesture of thanks and farewell.  Mel and Peri gave Leo a double hug of good-bye.  Leo smiled over at Ravner.  “The best part about good-byes is the big fuss I get from the women.”

            **That’s enough, Leo,** smiled the Composer.  **We have to go.**

            **Very well.  Good-bye then everybody,” Leo waved.

            The portal that had delivered up the TARDISes still stood open.  Both Leo and the Composer approached the rift and stepped through it.  The, they both disappeared.  A moment later, the portal closed behind them.

            Wasting no time, the young, Bohemian Doctor turned to face himself.  “Well, it was nice meeting you, old man.  I wish I could talk with me more, but I doubt the Laws of Time could survive another beating.”

            “It’s just as well,” his older self replied.   “I’ll feel more comfortable when you’re gone.  You make a habit of showing me up.”

            The younger Doctor shrugged.   “I can’t help it.  It comes naturally.   Just try not to botch things up so badly in the future.”  Before his other could reply, the Doctor addressed Ravner.  “Now then, Ravner?”

            “Yes?”

            “You and your friends should sort out who is traveling with whom.  While you do that, I’ll be waiting in my TARDIS.”

            “Hang on a moment!” Peri called after him.

            The Doctor stopped abruptly and turned around.  “Yes?”

            “I’ll be going with my Doctor.  I just wanted to … you know … thank you and say good-bye before you go rushing off.”

            The Doctor rubbed his mouth thoughtfully.  “Ah, I see.”

            It was then that Peri realized he was trying to avoid a long good-bye.  Such things must make him uncomfortable.  She held out her hand and the Doctor took it.  “Good-bye.”

            “Good-bye,” the Doctor smiled.  He turned and waved to the others before heading off into his TARDIS.

            Peri’s Doctor looked thoughtfully after his younger self.  “I’m glad he wasn’t as brusque with you as he was with Sarah Jane.”

            “Sorry?” Peri asked.

            “Never mind.”

            Sensing that the Doctor was depressed, Peri moved in closer.  “What’s wrong?”

            The Doctor gestured after his predecessor.  “He makes me feel old.”

 

            Later, within the sixth Doctor’s TARDIS, Peri and Mel stood by the central console. 

            ‘Why did you decide to travel with the Doctor?’ asked Peri.

            “Well,” Mel began, “I’m sort of between jobs at the moment, seeing as how nobody is going to be in a hurry to recover the Conscience anymore.”

            “That’s for sure.”

            “And the idea of going anywhere in the universe at any time is so exciting.”

            Peri nodded.  “It is, isn’t it?”

            “The hardest part will be figuring out where I want to go the most: the Renaissance, the Middle Ages, the Roman Empire, the Formation … I wouldn’t know where to start.”

            “It doesn’t matter.  The way the TARDIS steers, you probably wouldn’t get there anyway.”

            Mel wasn’t familiar enough with the eccentricities of the TARDIS’ steering mechanism to appreciate the quip, but she soon would be.  “Aside from that, though, I like the Doctor a lot, and he told me that we’re eventually going to be very close.”

            “He told you that?  I never could get used to the Doctor knowing so much about the future.”

            Peri noticed that Mel was staring over her shoulder and turned around.  Standing in the doorway was the hulking shape of Yrcanos, King of the Krontep.  Taking a hint from his expression, Mel left the main control room silently and moved deeper into the TARDIS corridors.

            Yrcanos stepped inside the TARDIS and approached the young American.  “Allene and Ravner are with the Doctor with the long scarf.  They are waiting for me to return before they take-off.”

            “But I thought you were coming with me.”        

            Yrcanos shook his head.  “You do not love me.  I have accepted that we do not belong together.  If we cannot be together as king and queen, then I would rather we not be together at all.”

            Peri tried to find some words to comfort him, but could say nothing.

            “You are a noble woman, Peri.  I will carry with me in my mind the image of your face wherever I go.”  Not allowing himself to stay longer, Yrcanos turned and left Peri standing alone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Epilogue

 

            Every time the Doctor strode into the central control room, his gaudy red, yellow, orange, and green outfit clashed against the hospital white of the walls and floor of the time capsule.  It increased the effect his already noticeable presence had on whomever was near.  He had just set up a private room for Mel to sleep and exercise in.  She remained behind to rearrange the furniture and the exercise machines in the fashion she desired, while the Doctor went off to speak to Peri.

            When he entered, he saw the time rotor rising and falling in the center of the mushroom-shaped console.  It reminded him that the TARDIS was in flight and that he should set in new coordinates.  Without looking at Peri, he approached the console and began setting the slide controls.

            “Where are we going?” asked Peri.

            Not looking up, the Doctor replied.  “New York, 1985.”

            Peri frowned.  “Why?”

            The Doctor raised a befuddled eyebrow.  “Don’t you think it’s about time I got you home?”

            “But the TARDIS is my home now.”

            That was the last thing the Doctor expected Peri to say.  “You can’t mean you want to continue traveling with me.”

            “But I do.  Don’t you want me to stay?”

            “Of course I want you to stay.  But you said yourself that you don’t trust me.”

            “That’s not true any more.”

            “No?”

            “If nothing else good came out of all the pain the Toymaker caused, it was that my trust and feelings for you have been restored.  I refuse to let our relationship end with anger and misunderstanding.  Not after all we’ve been through together.  I owe it to you and to myself to start over again fresh.”

            The Doctor, who was unused to such demonstrations of affection and forgiveness, had difficulty responding.  He was only able to look back down at the slide controls and clear his throat.  “The I suppose I should change the coordinates.  Is there anywhere in particular you would like to go?”

            “Where I’ve always wanted to go: someplace where there are no Cybermen, Daleks, Sontarans, or Masters out to destroy the universe.  I just want to go somewhere nice and peaceful and relax.  And preferably not the Eye of Orion.”

            “No,” the Doctor smiled.  “Not the Eye of Orion.”

            At the same moment, traveling along a different region of the Space/Time Continuum, was the TARDIS that belonged to the fourth incarnation of the Doctor.  He had just finished returning his three passengers to their respective homes.  Ravner had been the picture of respect and dignity as he said his good-byes and Allene had been the same.  Sadly, the Doctor could tell Yrcanos was in mourning over his lost love.  The wounds were fresh and deep as Yrcanos stepped out of the TARDIS.  The Doctor had a feeling the King of the Krontep would never totally heal from the rejection, but would always try to lose himself in new campaigns and travels.

            New campaigns and travels.

                The Doctor’s deep blue eyes stared thoughtfully at the central console.  Without looking, he set the TARDIS coordinates, showing his lack of care or interest in his destination.  He always liked an element of mystery and chance to be in his travels.  Then, after a moment’s pause, he reached down and hit the dematerialization button