Disclaimer: The characters of Dr. Who and Ace are property of BBC. The characters of the Daleks are owned by Terry Nation. The character of Rayna Vitreum and Callom MacLaren are property of me, Tryniamerin. My characters mean now harm to the show. This is written out of enjoyment for a creative show... and to preserve a good sf time travel saga!

A Growing Madness

Part 3:EXPERIMENTATIONS!

Theresa E. Meyers

Written 1996, revised 1998

"Just how many times before had this happened?" the Doctor asked himself. He could hear their grating voices planning havoc. A diabolical plan. Which he had walked straight into with his young companions.

"I must be getting old," he complained. "Happens when you reach nine hundred fifty-five!" He couldn't move a millimeter. A drug attenuated to his unique nervous system kept him rigid, yet conscious.

There was a good reason why he endured this. He wanted to discover their plans. Sometimes that meant stepping into the lion's den to hear them roar. Still, he'd counted on being able to get out alive and unscathed. A slim hope still existed: Ace was not in their clutches. This eighteen-year-old human saved his life time and again. Funny how much he'd come to rely upon his companions over the aeons. He could always count on his companions doing the exact opposite of what he said.

The Theileria Minor colonists. If he could have saved them, it would have been a miracle. Most likely, they were Daleks themselves now. Of all the times to land on Skaro, it had to be when the Daleks were just developing space flight. To think Skaro's sun would be destroyed in a few measly years from now.

Time was relative. Especially to a Time Lord. While the Daleks were invading 1963, he was retrieving the Hand of Omega. Right after he had left with his grand-daughter Susan.

Why did the Daleks want a human invention like the Growth Accelerator? Surely they could develop one from their own technology.

He was figuring this riddle out when they caught him.

"Test results on first human subject?"

"Test positive. Aging accelerated significantly. Test subject was destroyed after termination of experiment . . . "

Hearing these words, the Doctor felt a stab of guilt. Pity about Callom. Such a young boy. He could recall the last despairing look on the lad's face as the Daleks guns blazed around him. This timid boy seemed capable of such sudden bravery when he grabbed the Growth Accelerator short hours ago. Or when he helped them to save Vitreum from the Ranee's genetic experiments.

"Tests res-ults of a-lien fe-male in-dicate strong phy-si-cal con-stitu-tion."

"Pre-pare cell cul-tures."

Perhaps the geologist would survive. She was a strong creature. Mantissans always survived somehow. Just trying to figure out her genetic code would occupy even a Dalek. It was a certainty that they never encountered her species before. At least not in his experience. Adaptable self mutating DNA was a rarity.

Com-mencing scans on Doc-tor. Query. Is Ac-celer-ator func-tioning to spec-ified pa-rameters?"

"A-ffirmative. Cellular cultures of Doc-tor a-ccel-erated 1.5 per-cent."

"What . . . do you want of me?" he managed to croak.

"You will be si-lent."

"If I'm to die, I must know."

"Neg-ative. You will con-tinue to func-tion. Your mind will be of use to us. Growth Ac-celer-ator has increased me-tabo-lization of a drug in your ner-vous sys-tem. Soon you will be under our con-trol."

"What in the Twelve Galaxies would you want with that device? Surely you've developed one of your own . . . "

"Hu-man Growth A-ccel-erator tech-no-logy is not de-pendent upon the ab-sence of ra-di-ation."

"Aha, so your ambient radiation is stopping your experiments?"

"Ra-di-ation halts ac-celerator's pro-cess. Hu-man devices have o-ver-come this lim-i-ta-tion by using radiation as a po-wer source."

"So what are you going to do with it, now that you've got it?"

"Growth ac-cel-erators will speed up process of Dalek em-bryo pro-duction. New genetic ma-terial will stop spread of the vi-rus."

"And what about me? Surely you aren't gong to all this trouble just to kill me?"

"Your regenerative prop-er-ties will be in-fused into our Daleks."

"My regenerative properties? You know about them? How?"

No answer. Horror rose in him as he realized, "That ship . . . was a trap to bring me here?"

"A-ffirma-tive."

"I'm flattered. I didn't think you Daleks were capable of such a brilliant plan," he croaked. "I knew that device that stopped me was the same as what stopped the Cerise!"

"E-mer-gency! E-mer-gen-cy!"

Explosions rocked the corridors. Rayna pushed herself to a sitting position, despite the pain in her leg. One of the Daleks, the furthest from her, vanished into a smoke cloud. Only seconds later, there was a blinding flash that painted the dingy lab into a flare of light. Lab counters and devices were momentarily visible. Rayna sniffed the by-products of a nitroglycerin explosion.

"Un-known ex-plo-sives!" screeched one Dalek.

For a moment the Dalek guarding Rayna turned its eye-stalk away. "Query! Determine na-ture of ex-plo-sion!"

"Eyarrgh!" something screamed at the top of its lungs.

BOOM!

Choking smoke exploded just outside the lab doorway. Pulling herself with her hands, she began to crawl from beneath the scanner.

"HALT. Do not move!"

Glass shards sliced up Rayna's nerves as she crawled another two inches. The geologist shivered, trying to ignore the searing sensation.

"Ye canna get me, ye Sassenach machines!" shouted the same tenor voice in the dark. There were yet another flash and an explosion as a bank of computers bit the dust.

Suddenly the Dalek standing over Rayna screeched, "AM un-der at-tack! Small fe-male a-lien... A-ssist! A-ssist!"

"Not likely!" shouted a female voice. Light flashed off her baseball bat as she hammered the Dalek. Its ray blazed wildly toward Rayna. Fortunatley she had moved precious inches out of its line of fire.

"Ace!" cried Rayna. "I've never been so glad to see anyone!"

"Steady on, Yank," she said, dropping to her haunches by the geologist. "I'll get you out of here in no time flat!"

"There's a pain... Ow! A pain sensitizer! On . . . my leg!"

"Got it covered," she said, ripping out the wires. "Are you okay?"

"I will be now."

Mayhem erupted all around the two women. Two other Dalek technicians raced back and forth, guns blazing. They sought an enemy that was in many places at once. In the blaze of their extermination guns Rayna sighted a male figure wielding a long sword. He hoisted the weapon over his head, and crashed it down on computer terminal after terminal. Before the Daleks could shoot, he'd vanish in a swirl of light.

Rayna could swear the sword looked like a claymore, an ancient Scots weapon. Such a sword took a great deal of strength to wield. War cries in Gaelic echoed from every direction.

"Let's get you out of here," Ace said, wrapping Rayna's arm around her shoulders. "Can you stand?"

"Painfully," she gasped, tottering to her feet.

"HALT! Do Not Move!"

"Blast!" gritted Ace.

Right beside the Dalek covering them, the stranger appeared. He placed the point of his claymore at its base. With a mighty heave, he used it to lever the Dalek onto its side. Helplessly it toppled, crying, "A-ssist! A-sisst!"

Rayna freed herself from Ace. Dropped to her knees, pressing hands against the Dalek's sensor plates. Like before, she focused her anger and pain. Till the Dalek no longer moved.

Ace swung round. The first Dalek swung its guns round on her.

Beside it appeared the man. He pressed his sword into the ground. Using the weapon as a support, he planted both his booted feet into the creature's side. Shoved. Like a hockey puck the Dalek hurtled across the room.

Right in the path of the second Dalek. For a minute the second Dalek swerved. Before it could recover, the two collided. Both exploded on impact in a cascade of sparks.

Silence was blissful.

"Callom! Is that you?" asked Rayna.

Kilt swirling around his knees, he raced to her side. "Thank goodness yair okay!" he cried, throwing strong arms around her.

She hugged just as firmly. "My, how you've grown!" she exclaimed, drawing back for a second to look at him. All six foot of solid muscle and bone, clad in warrior's clothes.

"Och, that's nae important nau," he said. His tears spattered her brown hair as she held him tight against herself. "I . . . jest could nae leave ye behind!"

"I hate to bust up this reunion," broke in Ace. "But those Daleks will figure out what's up, and be swarming all over this place in minutes."

"Aye, we'd better get out of here then," said Callom. "I'll help Rayna get away. You get going."

"See you there, sport," she said.

"Be careful, lass," he said, catching hold of her arm before she walked away. For a moment she looked him full in the face, new found respect and sadness in her eyes. Innocence lost, as she had lost hers years before.

Her jaw trembled as she clenched her lips tightly. "Aren't I always," she snapped, forcing down the emotion betrayed in those brown eyes. Rayna couldn't help but notice the nonverbal exchange.

No longer could the Doctor speak. Jaw muscles failed to receive the commands from his hazed brain. The drug was taking its full effect. With all the resources of his Time Lord brain he fought, to no avail.

"C-can't talk," he gasped, voice a mere croak of its former self. "N-not really fair. . . is it?"

Dispassionately the metal shapes ignored him. No longer was he an enemy, but a test subject. Like the colonists had been, and the Doctor's young Companions. Save Rayna, who wasn't all that young. At least from what he knew about her species.

Funny. The Doctor claimed to be close to one thousand years old, and that was a mere fraction of the life span of a Time Lord. She purported her species could live for at least two thousand years. Rayna claimed to be three hundred and sixty-five Earth years in age. Surely that was young.

Poor Callom. His life was snuffed out before he could taste the burdens of adulthood. Ace was a girl whose childhood should have been filled with safe happy family memories. All she could recall was the pain and anger toward parents she no longer considered hers. She hated her mother, who was an adorable baby just as Ace had once been. Callom's father, fearful of his son's budding powers, drank. Still the lad loved him.

Rayna, who was an outcast and slave in her culture. Because she chose to reject their ways and live without genetic enhancement. Without the comforts of her society on Genome. Forced to endure pain because she cared so much for a lost Scots lad.

How many had died, following him on his aimless wanderings? Adric, the gentle Alzarian with childlike innocence. Or hard edged Sara Kingdom, changing her loyalty after dispatching her own brother. Only to age to death. Katarina, the slave girl from ancient Greece who saved his life. A girl who'd never seen a spaceship, let alone an airlock. Or those countless UNIT men who could never go home after a conflict with aliens invading earth. Their wives would forever wonder why they'd not come home one night for dinner.

There were those whose lives were disrupted by traveling with him. Sarah-Jane the reporter, dumped in South Croyden. His own granddaughter Susan, living in Earth's future with a one-time freedom fighter. Nyssa, whose father and home world were stolen from her by the Master. Or Peri, left to wed a king in a male-dominated society. Tegan, who never became an air hostess as she wanted to.

He realized they were sifting through his multiple lifetimes of memory. And he'd been drowning in the guilt, getting a high. There was no narcotic stronger to a Time Lord than a trip down Memory Lane.

Somehow they'd tuned into his brain frequency. That's when he realized there was no drug in his system. If it had been, his Time Lord physiology could have metabolized it by now. Mental control over physical processes were their hallmark. Somehow this affliction was dredging up the guilt and anger from his checked mind, and defeating him. They'd lock his mind in this cage. Force him to give up.

Desperately he fixed his thoughts on the accident in the TARDIS. Just what immobilized it and forced it to dematerialize in space? It would have to be a weapon that could reach into the fourth and fifth dimensions to immobilize a TARDIS. As he recalled, in this time, Daleks had developed time travel. After all, the Daleks managed to construct a device similar to the TARDIS, the same device used by two schoolteachers so long ago to get back to 1963.

But the Daleks now were not those of the twenty-seventh century. At best the Doctor guessed time relative to Earth was twenty second century, judging from the space ship they'd encountered. These Daleks had developed rudimentary space travel, and had driven the Thals from the planet. By now, the Thals must be cowering on some moon far away in space as they struggled to survive.

Nagging him foremost was the question, "Why are the Daleks using a Growth Accelerator developed by humans?"

An experimental growth accelerator. Most devices used enzymes to speed up growth of living matter. This was entirely different from bringing alive something inorganic like a volcano or a star. If a being based their system on temporal energy, any rate could be accelerated. Age could be stopped or started. Even time itself could be controlled. At a large energy cost.

That's what made this device different. The Dalek growth accelerator did work on a temporal principle. But uncontrolled use could lead to rips in the fabric of space time. That's why they secured a device that stimulated cell division by bombarding DNA sequences with a special radiation. The DNA sequences that regulated the end of cell division were targeted. Certain key sequences could be destroyed or stimulated to replicate, thus accelerating cell division through increased protein replication. All without the need for temporal mechanics.

At this realization, the Doctor smiled. Despite the drug in his system. At last he was getting somewhere. Of what good was this knowledge though, when he was tied down like Frankenstein in a B-movie?

Somehow the Daleks must desperately need the regenerative factor in his bloodstream. It escaped him as to why they didn't realize he had it before. Of all the times he'd been captured and plastered to a slab for scientific examination, they'd never suspected his regenerative power, at a cellular level.

But it was a factor that depended upon the Time Lord mental control of physical processes. A genetic factor that was impressed into every Time Lord when they underwent the Change at graduation. Well the Doctor could remember that fateful day when he stepped through the Psinapsifier arch, the symbolic right of passage for every Time Lord. When each Junior was hurled into the void of the Vortex. A time when the transformation to complete Time Lord forever altered their cellular structure.

Illegally he'd given Rayna that same transformation. She was the first illegitimate Time Lord. Somehow the High Council would discover this action, and the CIA would intervene. "No, mustn't let these Daleks suspect the true nature of Rayna."

Black hair plastered to the sides of his temples. With all his might he struggled once more against the drug in his system. Now he knew it was a device, that was stimulating the fear and doubt centers of his brain, he could fight it. Coupled with a depressant, it pushed back his guards. How much deadlier the Daleks would be if they were telepathic.

Any more power and they could burn out his brain.

Arms around Callom's sturdy shoulders, Rayna limped to safety. At last her body was beginning to heal the horrid burn. She had feared the damage to the muscle was permanent. Even her Mantissan power to cope with new environments was taxed to its limits. Tissues were forming into new myosin filaments to replace the burned muscle. Unlike humans, Mantissans could regenerate whole entire organs, not just tissues. In time the muscle would be totally replaced.

Or so she hoped. It was a miracle the gun had not exterminated her. Or that her leg was not broken. "I just hope Ace ken get the Doctor out o' wherever he's trapped."

"She doesn't know . . . where he is," she gasped.

"She had some nasty ideas. Said they were going to drain his mind."

"If they had a ray that could drive people to kill each other, they could very well convince him to shut his own mind off."

"I dinnae ken. I jest remember that those Daleks had him in some lab, strapped to a table."

"Do you suppose those Daleks know about him being a Time Lord?"

"Why do ye ask?"

"I was wondering if this whole thing was an elaborate trap, for the Doctor."

"Ace said that the Daleks and the Doctor were auld enemies."

"Ace! I almost forgot about her," gasped Rayna. "Stop right here."

"What?"

"We've got to go back, Callom."

"Dinna be crazy," he said.

"But I just realized. Ace needs your help."

"I cannae jest leave ye here alone."

"I realize I'm not much good with a lame leg, but I'm not totally defenseless." Throughout this adventure she felt she'd been a bigger liability than an asset. Ever since she woke up laying helplessly on that floor she felt sorry for herself. Now was time to stop being rescued, and start taking back her life. "I'm sick of being a liability. I want to fight back."

Those hazel eyes glanced at her anxiously. Every ounce of him struggled with some decision. His lower lip twitched, and his eyes darted. Soft brown eyes read right into his thoughts, even though she no longer sensed his emotions. "You're worried about her," Rayna guessed. "And me. The conflict is tearing you apart."

He flinched. "How can ye tell? I thought ye'd told me ye were na longer a psychic."

"I know you, Callom. I can tell when you're disturbed."

Still looking at his boots, he said, "She does nae have a chance. But neither will ye if I dinnae take ye back to the TARDIS."

"Even if you could get me back to the TARDIS, we can't take off without the Doctor. He's the only one who can truly operate the TARDIS anyway. And besides, he saved my life. I feel I need to do all I can to fight to save his life."

"Aye. But you'd be in danger too."

"Perhaps. But I know I can fight them, Callom. I was thinking about what happened in the cell."

"Ye somehow stopped the Dalek, I remember."

"Right. I may no longer be a full psychic, but somehow I immobilized the Dalek, just by thinking about it. I had to get close enough to touch its baseplate, though."

"But if ye cannae run, you could get hit! If ye say, ye need to touch the monster to stop it."

"I don't want to go down without a fight," she snapped. Gripped his shoulder suddenly. "Those Daleks stole my leg, and I want to pay them back for it!"

"But if you shuild die . . ." he said. "What will I do then?"

"I would rather die, knowing I helped to save you, then live knowing that I could have made a difference," she told him. "To survive is one thing. But to die knowing I made a difference . . ."

"Aye," he said grimly. "We'll go back. Together, or no at all."

"What happened, when you said a ray was fired at you," Rayna asked Callom, as they teleported throughout the complex.

"A ray was fired at me, yes. It must've been the Growth Accelerator."

"Do you remember where that lab was?"

"I think . . . I ken remember. Aboot three miles . . . northeast by northwest. On the third level."

"Good. Take me there."

"What?"

"If I can use it to accelerate the healing of the cells in my leg, I may give myself a fighting chance."

"What aboot Ace?"

Callom pictured the lab where the strange ray had been fired. A switch fell closed in his mind. Glands oozed compounds. Brief greyness, then they were elsewhere.

Rayna pushed the haze out of her mind. "That wasn't bad at all," she said.

"Ye dinnae feel sick, do ye?"

"Not at all. In fact, that was invigorating."

Both ducked behind a lab counter as Rayna spotted a Dalek scientist. Almost noiselessly it glided into the room. Back and forth swung its domed head as it scanned for anyone.

"Alien pre-sence de-tect-ed. Que-ry."

Callom gripped the Dalek from behind. Rayna scrambled out, reaching her fingertips toward its baseplate.

"A-lert! A-lert! Alien female pre-sent!"

Hatred flooded in her mind at the sound of the grating voice. She forced anger and pain she far down to her toes. Then she channeled the burst through her nerves. Energy forced through the nerve endings on her fingertips into cold lifeless metal sensors.

"Must . . . stop you!"

"Im-obilizing . . . A-Lert . . . systemsmallllfunctiiiiiiiin" groaned the Dalek. Like an unwound music box its sound retarded.

"Och!" gasped Callom. "Did ye kill it?" Whining squeaks were the only sounds the Dalek could make. Its iris dilated to its full extent in the eye stalk.

"I don't think so," gasped Rayna, hand to her head. "I just stopped it from moving."

"How?"

"The Daleks move by psychokinesis. I somehow interfered with that transfer of power. I either overloaded its relays, or dampened its mental powers."

"Ye niver said ye cuild stop psychic powers before."

"No. But certain members of my species have the power to dampen and absorb excess psychic energies. That's one reason why so few of my people became psychics at first. Our own people dampened the powers of those who were psychic."

"An where does tha energy go?"

"It's channeling it into some other place," she said. "I just don't know."

"But ye dinna affect ma teleportin power though," he said.

"Yes. Not unless I concentrate. My mind is somehow able to generate waves that interfere destructively with telepathic energy. Combine with it and cancel it out."

"Too bad ye have t' touch the blasted things to work."

Slowly they searched the laboratory. Callom shivered as he spotted the Growth Acceleration ray. It was mounted on a tripod at one end of the small metal room. Lining metal walls were rows of shelves. Upon many of these shelves were glass dishes, with flat bottoms. Each dish was as big around as a saucer, but transparent with raised sides. Clumps of flesh floated in each container.

"Tissue samples," explained Rayna. Flat sections of skin lined the bottoms of three dishes. Next to the skin cultures were placed four or five vertical stacks of red bottomed containers. Callom thought their pancake coatings looked like round pieces of meat.

"Begorra," he gasped, and pointed to other beakers filled with green liquid. Tubes ran into them from strange electronic computer panels. Bubbles issued from the tube tips immersed in the beakers. Peering through the beaker, the room was distorted into an odd curve. From behind, Callom's eyes looked larger. Horrified, he glanced through many beakers of the disembodied chunks of flesh. "I hate dead things flotin in jars," he gasped, clutching his stomach. Faintly his skin flushed green.

"I remember them taking scraping from my skin. These must be tissue samples subjected to the Growth Accelerator."

"Looks like they've been busy," said Callom, with his hands over his eyes. Even though he'd grown up overnight, the young Scot felt extremely young and frightened. Becoming taller and stronger didn't help him face sudden revulsion.

"Better get going. Try to find Ace. I'll manage here."

Swallowing his nausea, he embraced Rayna. For a moment he drank in the reassurance of her calmed mind. She seemed so resolved. Silently Callom wished he had that same composure as the geologist. Inside, he was scared to death. In a burst of light, he winked into another dimension.

Hand on her ice axe, Rayna limped over to the tripod. "Time to use this device for a constructive purpose," she said.

The round tripod supported a silvery gun. On one flat side was a LCD screen with touch sensitive buttons. Rayna accessed the first menu.

Growth rate?

Fifty percent

Angle of fire

30 degrees

Time acceleration constant .75

Sequence initializing. Wait for prompt

She smiled to herself, ironically. Like all Earth inventions the Growth Accelerator was computer-controlled. This work of human hands might return her power to walk. Alternatively, the sudden strain of growth might traumatize the muscle far worse than the Dalek extermination gun.

If this dilemma existed for her, what about Callom? What consequences existed because of his growth spurt? Surely such a rapid growth must have some adverse effect on his body, Rayna thought. Fear rose in her, combined with sick realization.

"I've got to get my rear moving," she said aloud. Unscrewing the clamps, she pushed the muzzle of the silver ray toward the floor. Until the muzzle of the ray made a forty-five-degree angle with the tripod shaft. Carefully she crouched on the floor, and lay on her side. Rayna turned her charred thigh till it was just under the aperture.

Two minutes to Stimulation . . .

Waiting to find out if a collection of microcircuits and silicon would reverse another effect was unnerving. Could a weapon of war be pushed aside by a human invention designed to help? Not only was her leg charred by an alien technology, but also the leg could only be healed by another alien device.

Stimulation in process . . . five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . .

Warmth spread in her skin, like a beam of sunshine. Creeping little shivers tingled in her skin. Where there was once nothing but dull pain, sudden feeling arose.

Nevertheless, it would take time. Time was something she didn't have. Ace and Callom needed all that she could give.

Taking time to make time sometimes paid off.

How frustrating it was to have an idea, and be unable to carry it through. Ace was thinking this at the very moment she found the Doctor's cell. By pure luck it seemed she kept out of the way of the Daleks. One baseball bat, even charged with Time Lord energy, could not stop twelve Daleks.

Doc Martins pounded the steel pavements. Eyes glanced up from a plastic-glazed map to the corridor markings as she ran along. Grated voices sounded only mere meters away, "Female detected! Pur-sue! Pur-sue!"

Ace struggled to remember how they could track her. Then she remembered the last time she'd fought the Daleks. Somehow they sensed infrared energy. Like the heat left over when a human being ran. It was so frustrating. She couldn't mask the heat seeping through her shoes. "If I could find the environmental controls of this city, I could crank up the thermostat."

"Where the heck am I gonna find time to find that," she cursed. All the time to draw elaborate plans, and no way to carry them out without being killed. Maybe that power room, where they were captured, was the place to look.

If only.

Desperately she fought with the conflict. Dodged behind a corridor, pressing her back flat against cold metal walls. Silently praying to a deity that she didn't believe in that she wouldn't be captured.

Straining her neck, she could just glimpse around the door frame. A squat shadow glided into view, low along the wall. A whole row of them slid diagonally up the flat wall. Soon the scant light swirled into a strange burst of energy. Instinctively Ace curled her fingers around her baseball bat's handle.

"Alien human female detected! Pursue!"

The light solidified into a six-foot tall human male. Energy swirled around him as he appeared. Right in the path of the Dalek patrol.

With just seconds, Ace sprang to her feet.

"Halt! Alien Male detected!"

"Begorra!" he shouted. "Where'd ye pop up from?"

"Halt! Or you will be exterminated!"

Reluctantly he raised his hands. Then looking beyond the Dalek, he smiled. "Of course," he smiled innocently.

"Obey the Daleks, or you will be . . . "

"Exterminate this!" shouted Ace, swinging the bat down.

Right behind the first Dalek, the second fired. Callom grabbed the second Dalek's gun. Ported. An unearthly howl erupted from the second Dalek as its gun vanished. .

Sparks also flew wherever Ace's bat impacted. She'd finished off the first Dalek, only to face a third.

Out of nowhere, Callom appeared. His claymore blade glanced off the third's casing with a clang.

"You idiot!" shouted Ace, despite herself. "That's no good against them!"

Still completing a second swing, Callom crashed his claymore down on the eye stalk of the third Dalek. This time, it cleaved the sensor in two. Now, Ace could swing her bat once more against the blinded Dalek.

Both teenagers stood opposite each other, through the smoking ruins. One teenaged hand grasped a bat, the other person's a sword hilt. Like bizarre mirror images they converged as Ace and Callom met in the middle.

"You saved my life," he gasped, only inches from her. Coughing, he stared at the sparking remains of their work.

"Don't you know how dumb that was?" she snapped. "Appearing right in front of a Dalek."

"Good to see you too, lass," he huffed. Up and down moved the ruffles on his shirt while he gasped in the smoking air.

"Did you get Rayna to safety?"

"Aye. In a manner a speaking."

"What?"

"She wanted me to come back, an help ye save the Doctor. I ken where he's being held."

"We'd better get moving. Those Daleks are swarming all over this place," she said. Callom nodded, and started out in the direction of the labs. Like before he sensed the strange emotions. And felt confused. She was angry at him, and at the same time concerned. How typical. What Callom couldn't decide was whether it was the anger a sister has for a brother, or the anger a woman has when a man she cares for is in danger.

The difference seemed important now. He could have very well insisted she thank him for saving her life. But Ace wasn't one of those damsels in a fairytale. She could take care of herself. And him, apparently.

"Serve me right, if they got me," he said.

"Look, that was pretty stupid, but brave, back there," she said. "Thanks."

"Jest hope I remember not to next time."

"What's the Yank doing?"

"She's gone to the Growth Accelerator. Trying to get it back."

"I thought you took her back to the TARDIS," said Ace, disappointed.

"She wants to pay the Daleks back, fer hurtin her. An I cannae argue wit that."

Ace drew in a sigh. "That's one brave woman."

"I'm looking at one, mahsel nau. Sure more brave than I feel."

She said nothing, when he said this. Teenage reluctance, Callom read in her thoughts. Would he be so guarded about his feelings when he was her age? He turned his attention to remembering the Doctor's lab. "I ken remember that the Doctor was strapped to some kind of table, before they took me away."

"Did it look like a mind draining device?"

"I would nae ken one if I saw one," he admitted. "But he could nae move, once they pressed a few switches. I dinnae think they drugged him. There were one or two electronic clamps on his legs, but his hands were free."

"Once we get there, I'll creep over, and try and free him. But I'll need you to make the Daleks think I'm not there."

"It'd be a matter a' blocking their thoughts. Should nae be too hard. But there's one thing, though."

"Being?"

"If there is more than one there. I Cannae affect more'n two minds at a time."

"Sh!" she hissed, grabbing his arm.

"What?"

"Patrol."

Callom reached out with his thoughts. Struggled to reach the minds he sensed. Horrible computer-boosted circuits buzzed in his inner hearing. Desperately he forced an image through his mind's eye, out into theirs.

Of a blank wall. No life signs. He motioned Ace to silence.

Right before them glided the Daleks. Eye stalks swivelled up and down on turning domes. "Heat traces lead to wall."

"Impossible! Heat trail stops. Heat sources detected."

"No visual range. Visual perception suggests nothing there."

Callom realized they could see heat. Desperately he struggled to stop the inputs to their brains. Computers enhanced perceptions he didn't count on. But he did not affect the eyes. It was their perception of what they saw.

"Nothing present. Heat traces stop."

"Illogical."

Only inches from Ace's nose swung a Dalek eye stalk. She could see the iris dilate as the puzzled Dalek tried to decide if it saw something or not. Callom wrinkled his forehead more. Ace could see the strain as he forced the image into the Dalek's visual cortexes.

Tears dripped from his eyes. Ace reached for his clenched fist. Only inches from taking his hand, she hesitated. It was better not to distract him.

Two Daleks swung around to face each other. Mechanical claws clenched, unclenched. Hover discs glided. Indecision.

"Suggest humans have devised a jamming scanner," said the first.

"Proceed with search patterns," recommended the second. Swinging round in unison, they slid away.

Ace gasped in fresh air. She didn't realize she'd been holding her breath the whole time.

Callom put hands to his forehead, and rubbed his temples. "Och, I was beginning t' think they'd niver decide."

"Mega," she said. "If you can do that, we'll have no problem getting the Doctor out."

All the young Scot could do was lean back against the wall. Pressing his eyes shut, he silently cried. Why was it so hard all of a sudden to cope?

"Hey, that took a lot out of you, didn't it?"

"Somehow, their minds are harder to affect," he said.

"Must be their computerized brains," she said. "They're blobs with bits in them. Cyborgs."

Putting her arm around his shoulders, she guided him along the hall. "It's okay, Callom," she whispered. "Save it for the room. I know you can do it."

"Just so hard. What if I fail?"

"You won't. I know it."

This time there was no 'Kid' or 'squirt'. She used his real name. Sincerity cracked her hard casing. For the first time, the scared, sixteen-year-old Dorothy seeped through.

Back in the main laboratory, the Doctor fought his own battle. Desperately he struggled against immobilization. If the treatment continued, he couldn't stand it much longer.

Through the darkness he heard a faint whisper. "Ace," he croaked.

"I'm here, Professor," she said.

Another illusion. But wait. He could feel someone's breath wafting against his ear and cheek. No Dalek device could duplicate that.

"You're in great danger . . . coming here."

"I'm not leaving without you," she said. "I'll get you out of here."

"They'll find you . . ."

"Well, are you keen on dying?"

"What are they doing to you? You look drugged or something."

"Some kind . . . of an inhibitor. Can't move! They're stimulating . . . my bodily production . . . of comatase . . ."

"What?"

"The enzyme . . . in a Time Lord's body that triggers . . . a comatose state . . . They're using the growth accelerator to stimulate . . . its production . . ."

"But Rayna's with the Growth Accelerator," said Ace. "That thing above you doesn't look like any growth accelerator I remember."

"What?"

"I'm trying to rescue you. Now shut up, and tell me how to get you loose. Will disconnecting you hurt you?"

"I... don't know. There could be a massive feedback . . ."

Ace checked the restraint clamps. Sure, they looked simple enough. Yet she didn't have the keys with her at the moment. Were they magnetic, or mechanical locks? Then she remembered the terrible strain Callom was under, trying to block her from the Dalek's perceptions.

Desperately she tried to unfasten the Doctor. Hoped she wouldn't activate an alarm. Fingers probed the cold metal restraints clamped to his ankles. Other touches tried the switches. Eyes kept a sporadic lookout for the Dalek technician at the console. It kept right on depressing controls. Ace wondered if they had anything to do with the Doctor's imprisoning device. She couldn't help but feel that by pulling him from the table, she'd kill him. If it was a mind probe, the sudden shock to his system could overload his synapses.

"Decrease stimulation to temporal lobe. Fifty percent rise in comatase levels.

Again she was faced with something beyond her comprehension. "Doctor!" she hissed. "Help me. What is this machine?"

"A . . . a mental stimulator. . . it's all I can do . . . to stay awake . . ."

"Negative, comatase levels dropping."

"I need to know. Will I kill you if I just pull the plug?"

"It depends . . ."

"On what?" she demanded. "Stay with me, Professor. I need your thinking. This isn't a growth Accelerator. It looks like a mind probe or something."

"Mind probe? Of . . . course . . . mental stimulation . . . of my brain centers. Stimulating the production . . . of adrenaline . . . that's how the settlers died!"

"Come back! I'm talking about you."

"N...no! The settlers were subjected to . . . a ray that stimulated their emotional centers . . . in their brains. Produced em field . .. That govern fear and anger receptors . . ."

"Doctor subject failing to respond to prompt. Suggest suffering from hallucination."

"How do I turn this bloody thing off?" she gritted.

"See that wire, running to the analyzer?"

"Yes," she said, gripping it in her hand.

"Don't touch it, whatever you do!"

"Tell me something I can do," she snapped.

"Alright. Swivel the main element. There's a control knob .. . on that clamp. Turn it . . . to the lowest setting."

"Then what?"

"Increase in heart rate detected. Raise power setting to compensate."

"Grab the panel, on the side .. . of the table. Rip. . . it off!"

"Okay. There's a mess of wires. And circuit cards."

"Pull out . . . the middle card . . . no wait . . . the one to the left of the middle. . ."

"Make up your mind."

"Left for positive flow, right for negative," he babbled.

"Alpha waves increased. Report, test report query . .."

Sighing, Ace ripped out all the cards. Surely this was the control center. Half the time, the Doctor didn't know what he was talking about. She hoped this was one of those times.

"Press the red button . . . and stand back . . ."

Nothing happened. Except a small hum. Terminals went black. That glazed look in the Doctor's eyes cleared up immediately.

Unfortunately the lights on the main terminal went dead as well. The Dalek Technician may not notice the Doctor and Ace, but it did notice the defunct switches. "Alert! Systems malfunction in Psinapse stimulator! Doctor escaping!"

"I do suggest we make all haste, and get out of here," said the Doctor. He sat right up.

"Come, on then!" Ace cried. She grabbed his hand, and yanked him off the table. Pressed the umbrella handle into his grasp. Heard the thump of his feet as he raced after her.

Heartbeats later they emerged from the lab. For a moment the Doctor dabbed his forehead with his paisley handkerchief. Leaned on the shaft of his umbrella for support. "Phew, I can't believe I got out of there," he gasped. Nothing answered him, except for the cold metal silence of the corridors. Nothing, but someone sobbing faintly. He pressed his hat on his head firmly. Glanced down to where the wall met the floor. There, huddled a fully grown Highlander, pressed into the satin sleeved arms of his companion. "Shh, it's all right," she soothed, stroking his head and back. "It's all over."

"Am I missing something?" interjected the Doctor.

Tears dripping from his eyes, the stranger looked up. Still his chin was pressed into Ace's shoulder. Perspiration plastered his long, blond hair into wavy strands.

One glance confirmed his identity. Despite the Black Watch plaid twined around his body, those MacLaren kilt pins were unmistakable. So were the soft, bright eyes. "Callom?" gasped the Doctor, crouching with hands resting on his thighs. "Is that really you, lad?"

Shaking, Callom managed a smile. Strong square cheekbones creased with dimples and freckled flesh. "Aye."

Clasping the lad's hand, the Doctor helped him to stand. Ace braced her shoulder into the Scot's armpit, and lifted.

"Easy now, take it easy. I know what's what now," said the Doctor. As he draped the Scot's other arm around his neck, the Doctor's hat almost fell off.

"Come on, let's get to the Power room, quickly."

"I'm sorry, Doctor. I could nae keep it up for much longer. Dinnae ken why not."

"That device was sending out interference waves. That's why. I'm amazed your powers worked at all."

"What?"

"That device was a mental stimulator. The peculiar field it sets up when turned on can affect telepathic signals."

"Rayna said she can do the same thing," said Callom, sounding recovered. He managed to stand on his own.

"What?"

"Yes. Said she was able to dampen psychic powers."

"But that's not the same thing as that device," said the Doctor, shaking his head. "It was utilizing covariant electromagnetic fields . . . and the e/m distortion feedback in the Dalek's perceptions were making it difficult for you to block its perceptions."

"You mean, the Dalek's perception was enhanced?" asked Ace.

"Daleks can perceive infrared energy. As you well know. But the strain of the machine's interference was influencing Ace's em pattern, and enhancing it."

"Oh, just explain it later," snapped Ace quickly. "We gotta get out of this place."

"How are we going t' do that," gasped Callom. "Ma power's na strong enau to fool a whole city."

"It will, if we can heat up the city."

"That's just what I was thinking. Jack up the thermostat, to ninety-eight-point-six, so they can't see us."

"But there's one problem. They may still be able to sense my body temperature."

"If it only sees a few less of us, so what?" asked Ace. "They'll be blinded."

"By the way, Ace. I do hope you kept those circuits that you pulled out."

"Sure. Why?"

"I'm going to need them soon."

Ace shook her head. Caught Callom's eye. Simultaneously they understood.

Rayna stood on both her legs now. Peered through a beaker Callom had only hours before. Immersing one finger, she swirled the green soup. "I wonder how many more of these beakers there are," she asked herself.

By now she'd determined what each beaker held. The green sludge was a sort of plankton. It was a basic nourishment for the Daleks. Indeed she remembered seeing a lake full of such green sludge boiling with tubes. And the tubes leading from these green filled beakers sloshed into the petri dishes. Those pieces of skin and muscle were her own tissues growing at a fast pace.

Unfastening the Growth Accelerator, she removed it from the tripod. Unclipped the power source feeding into it. It had its own battery pack, and the LCD screen indicated a charge of two earth hours.

"Good," she nodded.

If those samples of tissue were in here, what other labs held such experiments? Only slightly limping now, she crossed to the door. Slid open the panel, and checked the hall. No Daleks. The room she was in was on automatic.

Her other hand jerked the tubes from the petri-dish incubators. Slowly, twelve hundred replicas of her skin stopped growing. And died.

It wasn't a sin to kill simple tissues. Yet it might be a problem later if what she suspected were true. Why the Daleks wanted a growth accelerator. Or why they went to so much trouble to capture the Doctor.

Slowly she reached her mind to the place that she shared with Callom:

*We've got the Doctor! came his excited reply.

Hands to the sides of his head, Callom concentrated. "She's at the Growth Accelerator room," he reported, staring half at his friends, half into another dimension. "Says she found a whole bunch o' tissue cultures."

"I'm not at all surprised," said the Doctor, serious faced. "They must have been testing the Accelerator on her bodily tissues."

Then, turning to Callom, he asked, "Ask her to give me a description of the wing she's in."

For a moment, Callom moved his lips silently as he thought the information to her. Seconds later, he opened his eyes. "Rayna says she's proceeding to a room we saw on the way. There's a sign, with letters."

"Can you project an image of what she's seeing, into my visual cortex?" asked the Doctor. "I'll let down my barriers so you can get it through."

Before his eyes materialized an image, superimposed on his own sight. "Ah. That's a Dalek Embryo room. Rayna's found it."

"There's a set of these tubes running here," she said. Raising her hands, she grabbed the metal bolts, and twisted.

"Nobody could open that," said Ace. "She'll need a maser for sure .. ."

"Wait," said the Doctor. "I do believe our friend is quite strong."

Rayna wedged her ice axe between the bolt's and the door. Pushing down, she managed to pry the locks loose.

"Why do I think what she did was too easy?" asked Ace.

"The Daleks don't expect anyone to get into that wing."

"But she's Dalek fodder for sure," said Callom, temporarily breaking concentration. The picture faded from view. "No wait, she says she sees nothing. But I'm worried."

"Keep a mental link open with her. I'm nearly there."

In the Power room the three companions now stood. Wisely the Doctor had barricaded the molten door from attack. The only way out was if Callom teleported someone out. Ace sat on the floor, next to Callom. She was keeping stock of her remaining cans of Nitro-9. Only two were left.

Tucking his plaid under himself, he sat on one computer terminal. Callom closed his eyes, and fixed his concentration.

Near the Power vats, the Doctor removed a panel from a large computer bank. On his back, he reached up inside at the machine's innards.

"Seems strange they'd have the city brain in here," muttered Ace.

"Not the city brain, but there are computer access panels. If I can get the right access codes, I may be able to change the climate."

"Even if you could flood the city with heat, what's to ensure that they won't see you, at least."

"Your point being?"

"Your body temperatures' about sixty degrees Fahrenheit, and our body temps are well over ninety. And you say you're setting the temperatures to flood at the human body temp range. What good will it do you if they spot you?"

"But that's precisely what I want . . ." he said.

"What? After all we went through to get you out of there?" asked Ace, outraged. "And you say it was a waste of time."

Scooting out from under the computer bank, the Doctor sat up. "Ace, let's get one thing clear. I totally appreciate your efforts to liberate me. Really."

"Then what are you talking about?"

"I want to have them find me, so you three can get away. I want to get into the place where they have their secret weapon."

"Secret weapon?"

"Och, I knew they had something else brewing," interjected Callom. "There was a reason why they attacked that colonists' ship, wasn't there?"

"Rayna said it was a trap to lure you here," said Ace.

"Right. But they were the ones who disabled it in the first place."

"How could they target a ship in hyper drive?" asked Ace.

"In this time period, the Daleks have limited space travel. Yet there are Dalek outposts on some of the major planets. They broke into the Earth sub-space shipping records, and learned of the Growth Accelerator. But the Daleks on Skaro were developing a long range warp disabler. It traces ships passages through Hyper space. And targets their nuclear drive mechanisms."

"Is that what stopped the TARDIS?" asked Ace. "But that's not possible, because we travel in time and space."

"They knew they'd eventually catch me, in a certain region of the Vortex. The Hyper space region that ships use is a section of the Vortex. And the Daleks know a good deal about time travel. In this century. They knew my TARDIS traveled through Hyper space at least once in my Transference. If they kept their device activated, they'd snare me.

"And the ship?"

"Was an unexpected piece of bait they kept floating. Once they detected a materialization on board."

"But the ship was so far from Skaro . . ."

"Not really. The navigational instruments were faulty."

"But you acted like Rayna was wrong," said Callom.

"Yeah," added Ace. She rested hands on her hips, and stood next to the Scot.

"I, er underestimated her powers of deduction," he sighed. "My plan wasn't exactly foolproof."

"Ye'll niver make that mistake again, I hope," said Callom, sitting down again.

"Did you really know the Daleks were behind this, from the start. Be honest, Professor."

"Not at first. But once I realized the name, Skaro, the pieces fell into place."

"What ever happened to the colonists on the ship? We only saw the crew . . ."

"I'm still working on that," said the Doctor. Poking his head into the console, he scooted himself back underneath. Only his plaid pants were visible now. And those brown and white shoes.

Ace sat down at the base of the console, near Callom. She drew both legs together, and crossed them Indian-style. "Well. What's Rayna telling you now, kid?"

"She's inside the Room. She says that she sees all kind of weird things. But she knows I have na the stomach to listen to a detailed description."

"Tell her not to bother. I've already seen Aliens," said Ace, looking up at him. His hairy bare knees hung over the console side, and his booted feet dangled just above the floor. For a moment he looked like a small child sitting in a highchair. Then he slid down to the floor. Carefully he pulled the kilt underneath himself as he sat down next to her.

"Want some chocolate?" she asked, reaching into the zipper part of her backpack. "I dunno about you, but I'm starving."

"When was it I last ate something?" he wondered. His mouth watered as he heard the rip of wax paper and the crinkle of aluminum foil. Ace broke the candy bar in half, and handed him a slab of smooth dark chocolate.

It smelled like ambrosia. Going down it was the best thing he ever tasted. "Y'know wha miss Ferguson always told me? When I'd pay her a compliment on dinner?"

"What?" she asked, scooting closer. Like two schoolchildren sharing secrets, they leaned their heads closer.

"That Y'know you've waited too long t' eat, when what ye put in yair mouth's the best thing you ever tasted."

"Typical," laughed Ace. "She sounds like my gran."

"She was modest all right."

Immediately the smile disappeared from her face. Callom felt the tenseness in her mind. He quieted down, resting his chin on his hands. "Sorry t' make ye remember something."

"It's nothing, really," she said quickly.

"D'ye suppose I'm gonna stay this way forever?" he asked her, to change the subject.

"You mean all grown up?"

"Aye. It does nae feel right."

"Believe me, your better off. Being a teenager isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"I'm feeling like I'm missing something though. Like I'm cheating if I stay like this."

"You don't know a good thing when you have it. Now you don't have to worry about how you're gonna look when you stop growing."

"But part o' growing up is having fun being a lad," he said. "Now I can't do it anymore. Can't run and play."

"Who says that?" snapped Ace. "That's a load of rubbish. Look at the Doctor. He doesn't act grown up, and he's old enough to know better."

"How old is he, anyway?"

"Last time he told me, nine-hundred and fifty-four."

"Och, he's the biggest little boy I ever met," grinned Callom. He'd finished his half, and was reaching into his shoulder bag for his canteen. "Water t' wash that doon?"

"What?"

"Water. That chocolate sticks t' ma mouth."

"Oh. That crazy accent's hard to understand."

"Does nae surprise me at all. Whenever I get excited, I slip back into it. Yuirs is nae always easy t' get either."

Ace pulled at her hair briefly. The braid was staying in place. Callom's own braid, wound with thread at its end, hung down the side of one cheek. It looked natural. Right in place with the rest of his outfit. Weird. How they were both stuck in this futuristic city, probably close to being blasted by Daleks. And how they were talking as a brother and sister talked to each other.

Rayna completed her examination of the Embryo room. She wondered, like the Doctor, why no Daleks were searching for her. She glanced at her watch. It was set to a thirty-six hour day, Mantissan rel. time. The analogue hand stood at the eighteen, and the six.

"Mm. Been three earth hours. I'm no closer to what I wanted to know."

Already it felt sweltering. This room was kept a bit warmer. But somehow the thermostat was creeping up. How did heat affect Daleks. Were they used to a narrow or a wide range of climates? She didn't know.

Looking about the room's contents, she was glad Callom wasn't there. Although he had no problems with the sight of blood, he did have problems looking at biological specimens. The misshapen figures suspended in vats were enough to dissuade Hollywood's best horror fans. No stranger to bizarre aliens, Rayna still shuddered. Such utility existed. A single eye, and multiple tentacles, combined with oily skin. Mantissans had evolved from many sources. As many variations existed as races on Earth. But even the Ice age members of her species were beautiful compared to this.

Sadly she looked at the people. In glass casings. Mutations were already underway. These were once people with hopes, emotions and dreams. In her society, adapting to adverse conditions was a voluntary choice. But these people were conscripted to adapt, into one of the more vicious species in this galaxy. Mantissans had never fought or heard of Daleks. Yet from what she'd seen of their primitive, vicious nature, she was certain they were every bit as dangerous as the Doctor claimed. Even worse. It had nothing to do with their appearance. But with their callous disregard for the consequences of their tinkering.

Her species tinkered. But not with other species DNA. That was their first solemn law. No mutation without representation.

Yet the Ranee had forced Time Lord DNA into her system. Polluted her gene-pool with Time Lord inheritance. Time Lords and Mantissans were stern rivals for the power of Time Travel. Many centuries separated the two cultures, who had achieved a steady policy of mutual non-intervention. Space was divided, as well as time amongst their scientists.

Grimly she set the Growth Accelerator. Perhaps she could halt the mutation's progression. Reverse the effects, and preselect the replication of human proteins.

"I'm no biochemist, but perhaps I can save them from becoming Daleks."

How was she going to do that? She knew a thing or two about gene splicing. If the treatments were discontinued, perhaps that would be enough. Then she could accelerate human DNA replication and protein synthesis with the Accelerator . . .

"You will get to your home, I promise," she said solemnly. Again, she looked at the misshapen humans.

Ace slipped off her satin jacket. Tied the garment around her waist. Callom's shirt was sticking to his sweaty chest. She could see the droplets glistening against his blond hairs. With the back on one hand he wiped sweat from his brow.

"Did you have to go and make it as hot as all this?" Ace complained, readjusting her braids. Loose hair poked into her face. She struggled to french-braid Callom's long hair. Patiently he sat still against her tugging and pulling. The end result was amusing. "Och, I look like a real Highlander nau," he laughed.

"A genuine Jacobite," commented the Doctor. He wiped hands on his handkerchief, now a filthy sweat soaked rag. He'd rolled up his shirt sleeves. Long abandoned, his coat, hat and sweater were rolled up into a bundle and stashed near the control panel.

"How long d'ye figure on staying here?" Callom asked. "Surely it must be near hot enau t' escape."

"We must wait for the Daleks to stop moving."

"How do y' reckon on that?"

"I don't know, Callom. I can give an estimate. . ."

"He really doesn't know, then," sighed Ace, nudging Callom's arm. Despite the sweat pouring down her face, she looked incredible. Those full red lips and sparking dark eyes appeared so vital. With his eyes he discreetly traced the curves of her cheekbones and oval face. Every minute she struggled against her own awkward feelings. He couldn't sense the exact thoughts, but he could feel the conflicting mental images. She still tried to interact with him as a child, and a peer. But something was making it intensely difficult. Those pictures of him were broadcasted strongly into his inner psyche. Images of him and her in strange locations. Pure fantasy.

Males were the ones who had such fantasies. But the books failed to make note that women also had fantasies about the opposite sex. Whoever wrote the biology texts about human sexuality was biased. "Och, this is daft! I gotta get a grip on mahsel."

Conveniently, he was concentrating on Rayna. For any trace of psychic communication she'd broadcast. Pushing his feelings aside, he reached for her mind:

Back in the Embryo room, Rayna crouched behind the incubation unit. Sweat dripped down her forehead. Her own body temperature struggled against the increased heat. On her lap she held the Growth Accelerator. It had done its work well. Already, some of the mutations had halted considerably.

Considerably enough for the Dalek technicians to notice. It was only feet away from her grasp.

Slowly she reached her hand out to its baseplate. Focused her mind as before. Pressed her hand to one globe sensor. They were pressure sensors. Quite by accident she'd discovered this was the right place on their casing. Anywhere else was incorrect, for the Dalekanium casing was impenetrable.

What could eat through the casing? She managed to examine the metal. Nitro-9 managed to blow them apart. But it was in short supply. If more Daleks came into the room, they'd surely overpower Rayna by sure weight of numbers.

And she wasn't about to climb into a casing and escape that way. Just the thought of scrunching into that tiny seat was unbearable. To sit where they sat, those monsters who stole her leg. Unbearable. Just as unthinkable as sliding into a cavern.

Ace stood up, and dabbed more sweat from her forehead. Within the small room the air grew thick and moist. It seemed to hang just upon their skins.

"Ugh," muttered the Doctor. "I suppose I did overdo it a might."

"Ye can say that again," muttered Callom. Swinging his shoulder bag onto his shoulder, he stumbled to his feet.

"Are you okay?" asked Ace.

"I'm fine. It's jest this heat. I'm no used to it."

"I should have guessed," said Ace. "You're probably better off in freezing cold."

"Scotland summers dinnae get this hot. Or moist."

"Time we were going, children," said the Doctor. Both Ace and Callom saw him operate the door control. They held their breath as the panel slid open. First came the Doctor, stepping lightly on his feet. Back and forth he glanced, trying to spot any Dalek patrols. So far, none appeared. He waved to Ace and Callom, that it was safe to proceed.

"How much longer are we going t' snoop around like this?" Callom asked.

"Till we rejoin Rayna. I had a feeling she'd try to help those colonists."

"Did the Daleks really mutate them?" asked Ace.

"Rayna was there. And she saw the evidence."

"Disgusting," muttered Callom, visibly repulsed at the thought of people transforming into the living bubbling lumps of hate.

"Doctor, there's a wee thing tha's been bothering me," said Callom, slipping ahead of Ace.

"What?"

"Rayna said that ye piloted the TARDIS to this planet, after the explosion. But ye say the TARDIS is trapped here."

"What's your question."

"How did ye get the TARDIS to work, t' get here?"

"It works for short hops, through space. What's damaged is the fourth dimensional control. The Dalek weapon shorted out the temporal relays. Only the Dematerizalization spatial controls are intact."

"Mind saying that in English?"

"I mean, the TARDIS can dematerialize into the Hyper space part of the vortex. That's the same dimension through which you pass when you teleport, Callom. But the ability to move freely in time is gone."

"If that's so, why was the ship disabled. It doesn't travel through time. And it was disabled."

"The ship wasn't disabled. Merely controlled by the Daleks. The TARDIS, however, was disabled. Because of the mercury fluid links in the TARDIS. Luckily, the Dematerizalization mains are an independent crystallocybernetic unit."

"He means the Dalek's invention was too much for that Gallifreyan circuitry," said Ace.

"Whatever. But can ye fix it?"

"I did. But I've got to put that hyper drive remote control unit out of action, so we can escape."

"What do you want with those bits from that mind control machine?"

"Ace, it's not a mind control machine. It's a cerebral stimulator. And secondly, you'll find that part out later."

"When you figure out what you're actually gonna do with it, right?" said Ace. Pressing lips together, the Doctor said nothing.

Callom looked at Ace, and couldn't help but snicker. It was funny to see them arguing, despite all that was happening around them. By now she'd determined what each beaker held. The green sludge was a sort of plankton. It was a basic nourishment for the Daleks. Indeed she remembered seeing a lake full of such green sludge boiling with tubes. and the tubes leading from these green filled beakers sloshed into the petri dishes. Those pieces of skin and muscle were her own tissues growing at a fast pace.

Unfastening the Growth Accelerator, she removed it from the tripod. Unclipped the power source feeding into it. It had its own battery pack, and the LCD screen indicated a charge of two earth hours.

"Good," she nodded.

If those sample of tissue were in here, what other labs held such experiment? Only slightly limping now, she crossed to the door. Slid open the panel, and checked the hall. No Daleks. The room she was in was on automatic.

Her other hand jerked the tubes from the petri--dish incubators. Slowly, twelve hundred replicas of her skin stopped growing. And died.

It wasn't a sin to kill simple tissues. yet it might be a problem later if what she suspected were true. Why the Daleks wanted a growth accelerator. Or why they went to so much trouble to capture the Doctor.

Slowly she racked her mind to the placed that she shared with Callom.

Hands to the sides of his head, Callom concentrated. "She's at the growth accelerator lab," he reported, staring half at his friends, half into another dimension. "Says she found a whole bunch of tissue cultures."

"I'm not at all surprised," said the Doctor, serious faced. "These must have been testing the accelerator on her body tissues."

Then turning to Callom, he asked, "Ask her to give me a description of the wing she's in."

For a moment, Callom moved his lips silently as he thought the information to her. Seconds later, he opened his eyes. "Rayna says she's proceeding to a room we saw on the way. There's a sign, with letters."

"Can you project an image of what she's seeing into my visual cortex?" asked the Doctor. "I'll let down my barriers so you can get it through."

Before his eyes materialized an image, superimposed on his own sight. "Ah, that's a Dalek Embryo room. Rayna's found it."

"There's a set of these tubes running here," she said. Raising her hands, she grabbed the metal bolts and twisted.

"Nobody could open that," said Ace. "She'll need a torch for sure..."

"Wait," said the Doctor. "I do believe our friend is quite strong."

Rayna wedged her ice ax between the bolts and the door. Pushing down, she managed to pry the locks loose.

"Why do I think what she did was too easy?" asked Ace.

"The Daleks don't' expect anyone to get into that wing."

"But she's Dalek fodder for sure," said Callom, temporarily breaking concentration. The picture faded from the Doctor' view. "No wait, she says she sees nothing. But I'm worried."

"Keep a mental link with her open. I'm nearly down."

On the power room the three companions now sat. Wisely the Doctor had barricaded the door next to Callom. Ace was keeping stock of her remaining cans of Nitro-9. Only two were left.

Tucking his plaid under his thighs, he sat near one terminal. "Seems strange they'd have the city brain in here," Ace muttered. She started to French braid Callom's long hair. Patiently he sat still against her tugging and pulling.

Near the power turbines, the Doctor removed a panel from a large computer bank. On his back, he reached up inside at the machine's insides. "No, Callom, this isn't the city brain. But these are access panels to the environmental controls of the city. If I can remember the right access codes, I may be able to change the weather."

"Ye done wi' the pulling yet, lass?" Callom asked.

"Oh, yeah. Now you've got Johnny Tremain's hairstyle."

Callom stood, and walked over to one of the monitors. In its surface he could glimpse his reflection. The end result of Ace's styling was funny.

"Och, I look like a genuine highlander now," he laughed.

"A real Jacobite," commented the Doctor. He wiped his hands on her handkerchief, now just a filthy sweat soaked rag. Callom was impressed. Ace had actually read that book by Esther Forbes. The same lass didn't bother reading old stuff, off a scholastic list. As for himself, Callom devoured every classic he could get his hands on.

"If you flood the city with heat, what's to ensure that they won't see you, at least?"

"Your point?"

"Your body temperatures about thirty degrees lower than ours. You say you're setting temperatures to flood at the human body range. What good will it do for you?"

"But that's precisely what I want."

"What? After what we went through to get you back?" demanded Ace, outraged. "And you say it was a waste of time."

Scooting out from under the computer bank, the Doctor sat. "Ace, let's get one thing straight. I totally appreciate you efforts to liberate me. really."

"Then what are you going on about?"

"I want to have them find me, so you three can escape. I want to get into the place where they have their secret weapon."

"Secret weapon?"

Callom closed his eyes, and fixed his concentration. "Och, I knew they had something else brewing," he interjected. "There was a reason why they attacked that colonists ship, wasn't there?"

"Rayna said it was a trap to lure you here, Professor," said Ace.

"Right. But they were the ones who disabled it in the first place."

"How could they target a ship in hyper drive?" asked Ace.

"In this time period, the Daleks have limited space travel on Skaro. That's because most of their efforts are focused on expanding their empire. But there are Dalek outposts on some of the major planets. They broke into the Earth sub space shipping records, and learned of the Growth Accelerator. While the Daleks on Skaro were developing a long range warp disabler. It races ships passage through hyper space."

Ace slipped of her satin jacket. She tied the garment around her waist. Callom's shirt was sticking to his sweaty chest. she could see the droplets glistening on his blonde hairs. With the back of one hand he wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Did you have to go and make it as hot as all this?" Ace complained, readjusting her braid. Loose hair feel into her face.

He'd rolled up his shirt sleeves. Long abandoned, his coat and sweater were rolled up into a bundle and stashed near the control panel.

"How long d' ye figure on staying here?" Callom asked. "Surely it must be near hot enau t' escape."

"We must wait for the Daleks to stop moving."

"How do y' reckon on that?"

"I don't know, Callom. I can give an estimate..."

"He really doesn't know, then," sighed Ace, nudging Callom's arm. Despite the sweat pouring down her face, she looked incredible. Those full lips and sparkling dark eyes appeared so vital. With his eyes he discreetly traced the curve of her cheekbones and face. Every minute she struggled against her own awkward feeling. He couldn't sense the exact thoughts, but he could feel the conflicting mental images. She still tried to interact with him as a child, and peer. But something was making it intensely difficult. Those picture of him were broadcasted strongly to his inner psyche. Images of him and her in strange locations.

Males were the ones who had such fantasies. But the books failed to notice that women also had fantasies about the opposite sex. Whoever wrote the biology text about human sexuality was biased.

"Oh, this is daft," he snorted to himself. "I gotta get a grip on mahsel"

He focused on Rayna. For any trace of communication she'd broadcast lately. Pushing his hormonal feelings aside, he reached out again:

*We're hot enau, Rayna

*Right. I found the colonists. They are... Dalek Fodder.

*Ugh. As I thought. But are ye okay? Seen any other Daleks?

*One or two have glided in here. I'm hiding behind the incubators. I don't think they can sense me. Even when they do, they won't know what hit them.

Back in the Embryonic lab, the Mantissan crouched behind the unit. Sweat dropped down her forehead. Her own body temperature struggled against the increased heat. On her lab she held the Growth Accelerator. It had done its work well. Already, some mutations reversed.

Considerably enough for the Dalek technicians to notice. It was only a few feet away from her grasp. Slowly she reached her hand out to its base plate. Focused her mind as before, in the cell. She pressed her hand to one of the sensors, for pressure detection, she guessed. By accident she'd discovered that this was the proper weak place on the casing to focus this new destructive force of her mind. Anywhere else was ineffective, because of the Dalekanium casing.

What could eat through the casing? She managed to examine the metal. Nitro-9 managed to damage them enough to stop them temporarily. Unfortunately, it was in short supply here. If more Daleks cam into the room, they'd surely overpower Rayna. She could only immobilize one at a time.

She wasn't about to try concealing herself inside a casing.

Ace had stood again. Within the room the air grew thick and moist. Humidity hung on their skins. The Doctor muttered, "Ugh. I suppose I did overdo it a might."

"Ye can say that again," muttered Callom. Swinging his bag onto his shoulder, he tottered to his feet.

"Are you okay, Cal?" Ace asked.

"Fine. Jest the heat. I'm nae used t' it."

"I should have guessed. You're probably better off in freezing cold."

"Scotland summers dinnae reach this temperature. Or this humidity..."

"Time we were going, children," said the Doctor. He tied his extra clothes into a bundle with his necktie. Both Ace and Callom saw him open the door, and held their breaths as it slid open. Hanging his bundle over the end of his umbrella, he casually stepped into the corridor. Back and forth he glanced, trying to spot any Dalek patrols. "Ally, ale, oxen free," he announced, waving to them to join him.

"How much longer are we going te snoop around like this?" Callom asked.

"Till we rejoin our geologist friend. I had a feeling she'd try to help the colonists."

"What's wrong wi that?"

"did the Daleks really mutate them?" Ace cut in.

"Rayna was there. And she relayed the evidence to our Scottish guard."

"Disgusting it was," Callom grunted, visibly repulsed at the images of people transforming into wizened wads of hate.

"Doctor, there's a wee thing tha's bothering me still."

"What, lad?"

"Rayna said ye piloted the ship to the surface, after our TARDIS crashed. I remember Ace'n me being inside w' Rayna..."

"What's the question?"

"How did the Daleks get the TARDIS into the city?"

"Easy. The Daleks transported it here."

"But why didn't we just go back, with the colonists, to escape. How badly is it damaged?"

"The fourth dimensional stabilizer. The Dalek weapon shorted it out. Only the dematerizalization is working, for short hops through space."

"Meaning, in English..."

"The TARDIS can still pass through hyper space in the Vortex. That's the same dimension you pass through when you port, Callom. But the ability to move freely in the fourth dimension... time... is gone."

"If that's so, then why was the ship gonzoed?" asked Ace. "It doesn't travel through time."

"The ship wasn't disabled after all. Merely controlled by the Daleks. The TARDIS was disabled. The fluid links were vaporized. However, the demat's a crystallocybernetic unit."

"He means the Dalek's inventions fried the timing?" Callom said.

"Yeah, whatever. But can you get it working again, Professor?"

"Of course I can," the Doctor snorted. "But I've got to put that Dalek remote controller of hyper drives out of action, so we can escape."

"What did you do with those circuits from the mind controller?"

"Ace, I told you it's not a mind control machine. It's a cerebral stimulator. And secondly, you'll find that part out later..."

"When you actually figure out what the hell you're going to do with it, right?" said Ace.

Clenching his jaw, the Doctor trudged on ahead. He said nothing. Callom looked at Ace, and stifled a laugh. It was funny to see them arguing, despite all the dangers that could happen in any second.

"I never volunteered for morgue duty," Callom complained. Sweat still plagued him. Mute footsteps passed in front of him. In his hands the Doctor clutched a small box. he walked backwards in front of them, like some bizarre pied piper.

"This way folks," he said. "Flight for Cerise leaving in five minutes."

"Look out, Doctor!" Callom cautioned.

So intent was the doctor on walking backwards, that he tripped over a nearby section of floor. Control box and Doctor crashed backwards. Time lord hit floor as the box flew through the air out of his hands. Right into Callom's. The Scot dived right under the unit.

"Ye gotta be mair careful, man!" he snapped.

"Right, right," grumbled the Doctor, rubbing his backside. Callom reached out a large hand, which the Time Lord reluctantly grasped. He pulled up, and dusted himself off.

"Thank you. Good teleporting, m'lad."

Thirty figures tramped past them. "Wait!" the Doctor shouted, grabbing the remote.

Callom shook his head. Then he winced at the blackness curling in front of his eyes. For a moment he rubbed them. Had to focus. Fight the urge to pass out. Regaining control, he dashed after the strange parade. Through steel corridors the melancholy toy soldiers passed. Until they stopped in front of a strangely coded door.

Out the door they continued, onto the battered pockmarked surface of Skaro itself. Callom drew in a breath. He'd not seen it before, on the outside. So blissful did the open spaces to him seem , that he forgot the blackness in his head. Overhead, the gray clouds whirled, mirroring the gray metal underfoot. Huge spires interconnected with long tunnels rimmed the horizon. Immediately ahead of the party, Callom spotted three or four round disk buildings suspended on high poles, like towers. "Where'd the Jetson's come in," he wondered.

Then he realized they were Dalek craft, in their support columns. Identical in size and configuration to the one that latched onto the Cerise so long ago. Dragging his feet, he caught up to the Doctor. Metal landscapes stretched as far as his eyes could perceive. Expect for the distant high mountains that peeking behind the saucers, Callom could see no other planetary features. Not even the forest was visible, except on the distant mountains.

Up an inclined plane they stumbled. Just before the hatch, Callom stopped. Still the Doctor treaded backwards with his control box in front of the lines of colonists. Callom and the time lord bracketed the door while the strange cargo filed inside.

"Now leaving on runway ten," Callom joked somberly. "Dinnae ferget t' check yair baggage thru to the colony."

"That's the last one," the Doctor smiled. "Come on, we've gotta set this for take off."

Inside, Rayna and Ace puzzled over the alien controls. Rayna leaned against one panel, and muttered, "Seems simple enough."

"If you can know Dalek scribble, that is," Ace said.

"All these saucer craft are the same. Liquid ion propulsion creates an air cushion to take off. Then antigravity kicks in. This knob controls the horizontal movement.... and this one here controls the vertical..."

"Great, if you're going to the outer limits, Yank."

Rayna winced. Unlike the spherical Aries command deck module, the Dalek saucer had myriad systems that seemed incompatible with the Earth technology. But the Doctor had somehow miraculously spliced them together. He'd taken the wires from the Cerise's hyper drive control and grafted them into the Dalek circuits. All Ace and Rayna had to do was weld the framework of the remaining orbital craft to the saucer once they were in orbit. Then, thirty slumbering mutants could be pushed through the docking ring in silence.

"Are we ready to go?"

"It's a miracle you rewired these systems so we can just past this thing to the ship."

"That's the easy part."

"Then how come you're not flying this thing?" Ace demanded.

"Callom and I have to keep an eye on the Daleks. In case they wake up."

"I still don't like leaving Callom here," said Rayna.

"Someone needs to baby-sit him," Callom laughed softly, indicating the Doctor. He stuck is head and shoulders part-way into the room. Dark circles appeared under his young eyes. Were those gray streaks creeping into his hair?

"Dinnae worry," he said, as he guessed what she thought. "I'm okay. It's jest the heat in the city."

"And what about the Daleks?" said Rayna. "How much longer can that heat hold them, Doctor."

"That's the difficult part I mentioned."