Disclaimer: Doctor Who is owned by BBC international. My character Rayna Vitreum is my own creation, and means no harm to the show. This story is fanfiction!

by Trynia Merin aka Theresa Meyers

a doctor who story in fanfiction written 1991... at the height of my fandom! But I still am a big fan!

"No trace of them sir," announced Benton.

"We must find something!" gritted Yates grimly.

"My men will do everything in their power to find your Scientific Advisor," offered Jung.

"Thank you," heaved Yates. "But what about Doctor Moore. She's been missing since yesterday afternoon?"

"Sir!" shouted a voice to their left, interrupting Yates' question.

"Yes?" asked Jung, adjusting his dark denim jacket and sweater.

"I just saw crazy readings on the magnetic detector!"

"What?"

"Someone was running the generator."

"I gave strict orders forbidding that!" shouted Jung, his composure suddenly crumbling. His hazel eyes flashed wildly.

"What's on lads?" asked Ethridge, mopping his brow with a handkerchief. "I heard the fireworks."

"Engletech is most hospitable, with all its guests," said the research head, a calm physicist with a silky voice. Unlike the blue suited technicians, or the white smocked scientists, he himself wore a blue turtleneck sweater, underneath a tan corduroy blazer. Several pens were thrust into it's breast pocket. "All investigations will be made whereas the cause of the premature detonation was."

"Those fireworks were aborted blasts! Where were you just

now?" cried Jung, wild with anger at the discovery. He hardly

cared that his superior was standing right next to him, watching his every blunder.

"Just at a most interesting test of the exponential generator... that chap Weissman invented."

"Oh yes, I see," muttered Jung, a gleam in his eye.

"Harry, escort the minister to the staff room. Make certain he has a nice lunch," intervened the physicist, trying to avoid a major fight between Jung and Weissman. "I'll see you all later, in thirty minutes, fifty seconds."

The Doctor trudged carefully into the dim cavern, shouldering Rayna's body. Daylight still filtered inside from the quarry. Gently he lowered Rayna's body to the smooth surface of the cave floor. Checking her pulse, he discerned a strong double beat. Yet there was a considerable bruise swelling to existence on her scalp, and her skin was clammy. Blood dripped from a cut on her forehead. Removing his opera cloak, he snugly draped it over her to keep her warm in the cool, moist cavern.

Closer and closer sounded the explosions. The Doctor glanced all about the cavern, wide eyed and inquisitive. Just how far back did this go? Scant sunlight from outside only partway illuminated the cave. Could Dr. Moore have unwittingly stumbled into this cave as well, and gotten lost exploring it? He heard an urgent beeping coming from Rayna. He remembered the box on her belt. Wasn't this the seismography monitor?

"Eight point five..." groaned Rayna, writhing.

"Hang on there a moment," coaxed the Doctor, dabbing her cut with a handkerchief. "You'll be alright." Under his touch, she fell quiet. Distant echoes of explosions still resounded in the mouth of the cave, so pulling his velvet jacket down over his back, he settled down to wait for Rayna to recover. This cave looked awfully similar to that one in Derbyshire... he'd been down inside. There had been a remarkable specimen of an Allosaurus, which had left its clawprint embedded in the cave sand. "Eight point four-three..." Rayna moaned, shuddering. "Must run... earthquake... any minute now... lava... electrical conductive... pole reversal... trigger explosives..."

"What earthquake?" he asked, perplexed. To his horror he suddenly felt the ground about his booted feet start to quiver. Surely they didn't test explosives in here too? Dark rocks slid down the sides of the walls as the earth heaved like a breathing animal. Rubble pelted his silver hair and shoulders. Scrambling, he threw himself over Rayna's inert form to protect her... at least for a few minutes. Until the whole cave roof swallowed them both up in its fits.

When at last the choking dust cleared, he felt Vitreum squirm under him, coming round. "Mmm, eight point five... at least," she moaned again. His tightly shut eyes opened to a mask of midnight black. Gingerly the Doctor eased off the rock, and the geologist he'd shielded.

"Ah, you're awake," he said. Very idiotic comment, he scolded himself. But considering her predicament, he could do no better. "Can you move at all?"

"Ow!" winced Rayna, rubbing her scalp. "Someone give me the number of that crustal movement. Who turned out the lights?" she wondered curiously.

Reaching into his jacket pocket the Doctor drew out a small electric torch, the sort of which a medical physician would use to look down a patient's throat. Very appropriate, considering the gaping maw of the cavern stretching into uncertainty, Rayna thought. "Just rest a bit there for a moment," he told the geologist, tucking the cloak more snugly around her. Silence hung thickly around them, pierced only by the slow steady drip of water. For a moment the Doctor moved out of Rayna's sense range. Before long he shuffled back, carrying something.

Again Rayna winced as something cold and wet touched the cuts on her head. "Ouch! That smarts!"

"Steady on. You've had a nasty knock on the head.... just relax." Gently he dabbed the water soaked hankie on her bruise. It did feel rather soothing.

"There's some bandages in my knapsack there..." she murmured. "By the way, what cave is this?"

"Far in the quarry wall I believe," answered the Doctor, attempting to fold the handkerchief into a bandage. "I'm afraid we're trapped for the moment."

"Let me shed some more light on this problem," she offered, unclipping a more substantial flashlight from her own belt. Carefully she beamed it at the caved in entrance.

"So much for the way out." he muttered, studying the piled rocks framed in the light cone. "Can't help but wonder what exactly did trigger those explosives. Heat sensors, perhaps?"

"Maybe they were electric... or maybe the time warping set them off early?"

"Hmm," pondered the Doctor, dressing her wound. "Did think of that myself. Must've unwittingly stumbled across an explosives test site. Perhaps that set off the earthquakes. Just think, a nasty new explosive that could cause the earth's crust to slip."

"Thanks, Doctor," she said, relaxing in the silence. "But wait. There's something wrong with that theory," pointed out Rayna. "My seismographs were already picking up tremors before the explosive even started to fire. The explosives were just a catalyst for the quakes... or an effect."

"So you think the quakes were triggered by the time warping perhaps? Or the magnetic disturbances?"

"Uh... We were near some basaltic lava floes, and your gizmo went crazy... showing the magnetic field was going berserk..." recounted Rayna, trying to piece together the clues. "Did you know lava can transmit electricity?"

"Yes of course, but I don't see what that would do with an earthquake," disagreed the Doctor. "There were wires attached to those explosives, you know."

"Well... if there were earthquakes... the time warping caused them by stimulating England's plate to move faster. Time flux is indicated by a magnetic field flux and the constant realigning of those little poles in the lava."

"How could there sensibly be earthquakes?" disputed the Doctor. "After all, there are no fault lines in England. You forget England is part of the European plate."

"Contrary to your theory, there are several sub-plates that compose the European plate and small fault lines to prove it," retorted Rayna. "A small inactive fault near Derbyshire. It recently just woke up again. No such thing as extinct... as far as geology goes," she said.

"But where would the subduction zone be between this sub-plate you claim is there, and the European plate?"

"Let me demonstrate," said Rayna, picking up several flat slabs of rock. "In a normal subduction zone, on the boundary between two plates, the dense one slides beneath the lighter one." Here she slid the heavier rock under the other one. "But sometimes a plate itself can be partially cracked from stress, like this." To prove her point, Rayna hit the flat slab with another rock so a small crack only passed halfway through the slab. "Here, you have a mini-fault, which may break off and eventually form a new plate. Plates are only just the hard and broken skin on the mantle, like the cheese on the top of macaroni and cheese casserole when it cools off. Can be remelted and reformed, you know."

For awhile the Doctor stared at her three rocks and thought.

"The explosives were triggered by electric wire charges. Someone may have tried to disconnect them. But... since they were near basaltic lava... the magnetic charges created an electromagnet... and conducted electricity to the explosives anyway." he muttered.

"Where to now?"

"Not sure, exactly," sighed the Doctor. "Could wait about for help to come," he suggested, standing up. Into his hand he felt put the tasseled end of something. That silly long scarf Vitreum was wearing?

"So we can keep together," echoed her whisper in the cavern. "All caves must lead somewhere. Maybe this one ends up outside again."

Pulling on his cloak, the Doctor agreed. For awhile they wandered in darkness, Rayna's better flashlight beaming the way. It was then that Vitreum tugged at the scarf, halting him. "What is it?" he asked her.

"There's something funny about this particular tunnel."

"What's that?"

"No stalactites... or stalagmites. No dripping water either. I'd swear this here passage was manmade."

"Oh?" For a moment the Doctor's weak light danced. Then, there was a twang of something hard rapping metal. "I did wonder why there was a door here," he replied at last.

Vitreum rolled her eyes and giggled. One step ahead as ever, Doctor. She suddenly heard a faint voice through the door. "You idiots! You could have blown this entire establishment to kingdom come!"

"Doctor!" she hissed. Listen to this!"

"Eh?" asked the Doctor, pressing his own ear to the door.

"My exponential generator..."

"Generator be blowed! I'm not risking the lives of my technicians, for scientific piddling.. by that swiss loon!" rattled an Indian accented voice.

"Turn off the generator now."

"I vas told Iv hav unqvestioned help!"

"Weissman!" hissed the Doctor under his breath. Groping in his pocket he pulled out a small box and adhered it to the smooth steel door. Nimbly he untangled a mess of wires attached to two small earpieces. He passed one to Rayna and both Time Lords pressed the small speakers into their ears to listen.

"Calm yourself Professor," interrupted a silky voice. "Be assured you will get all the help you need to complete the tests. As for the rest of you men, you will follow Weissman's directions to the letter. Engletech's major experiment depends on it."

"What the hell do you mean?" complained still another voice, a Birmingham accent. "Why was this dutch kook's gizmo fired up today?"

"At ease, Jung. Surely you haven't forgotten the meetings. We are on the threshold of another breakthrough."

"Don't start on about the greater good garbage... again." snorted Jung.

"Excuse me gentlemen, but what sort of breakthrough are you referring to?" piped up a smooth upper class accent, clearly the product of elocution lessons.

"Ah, welcome to Operation Groundhog, Mr. M.P."

"Mr. Ethridge is fine."

"Sorry to break up the social call, but I can't cancel those explosive tests," snapped Jung. "What, with UNIT smashing practically down our back door!"

"UNIT is here?" gasped the Indian accented voice again, almost on top of Jung's complaints.

"Yes Padyesh..."

The conversations garbled and overlapped for a time. When they could pick it up again, it sounded somewhat like this. "Excuse me, but I thought Weissman's generator was the crux of this operation... if it is not then what is the main aim of this establishment?"

"Good of you to ask, Mr. Ethridge. It's about time all of you knew of the final aim of all your experiments."

"Sir please..." begged Padyesh.

"No Padyesh, they must know. Gentlemen, I'm referring to plausible time manipulation... by the controlling of electrons... to convert energy into matter. The reversal of Einstein greatest equation..

"Damn it!" shouted Jung's gruff voice. "Why wasn't I informed of that experiment? The director said it was canceled!"

"Vat is this time manipulation again?" asked Weissman.

"It's what's making your exponential generator possible, Professor. The magnetic field distortions are the fingerprints of time itself convoluting."

"You vere studying my generator?"

"Dead center," muttered Padyesh. "But there's been another... well disappearance." The physicist promptly ignored him.

"Please explain this to me," requested Ethridge.

"Have you ever heard of the electron's wave particle duality? You cannot tell where an electron and how fast it travels simultaneously. Time is like that. We can clock how fast it moves, as well as seeing how it passes. Yet we cannot isolate it's substance."

"This is all nonsense!" interrupted Weissman. "Vat has ze time to do vith electrons? My generator ofperates on zuh principal of magnetic polar inversion of basaltic lava rocks!"

"Time passes... how can it have substance?" asked Ethridge, struggling to grasp the great physicist's explanation.

"The simple reversal of Einstein's equation. Energy is mass times the speed of light squared. We convert mass into energy. but if we could surpass the speed of light, we could make energy into mass. Weissman's generator makes all the energy we need for our experiments.

"This makes no sense... is the german's generator the cause of your time manipulation, or a result?" gasped Ethridge.

"A mere energy source, and a useful model."

"Listen, cut the high fluted talk! What the hell set off my explosives?"

"Time did a hairpin turn, in one dimensional terms. In terms of two dimensions, it folded and changed its intensity. When you set your explosives, and tried to stop them, the magnetic force barred time... and they were already exploding before you'd set them." elaborated the silky Oxforder's voice.

"But what's the use of this time manipulation, and how do you do it?"

"It takes time for light to travel. Convert energy to matter, manipulate the process... and time wraps around. Magnetic flux equations control the direction... but my experiments have yet to control the frequency. For instance, you could speed up a geologic process, and see exactly how the Thames would look in five thousand years..."

"By making time around you move slower..." added Padyesh. "Or else make the Earth's crust itself move faster and heat up... by the magnetic field distortion."

"These guys are loony!" cried Rayna, listening to their debate. Angrily she plucked the amplifier from her ear.

"Fascinating. That physicist is light years ahead of his time," muttered the Doctor. "Another chap on the road to rudimentary time travel..."

"But if they use that generator slash whatever again, they may cause a major geologic upheaval! The magnetic distortion caused by their experiments is making the rocks paramagnetic! And the dynamism is happening much too fast..."

"I see... and then?"

"Major geologic upheaval. You said there was an earthquake that started before I woke up..."

"Did you hear something?" asked the immaculately dressed Ethridge, sipping tea from a polystyrene cup. He winced at the taste. Why couldn't they brew a decent cup of tea... in a china teacup for once? All the men now sat at a folding table, drinking their tea and hobnobbing.

Weissman rose from the table. "It's time you showed the seismologist home," he said to Jung.

"Ah yes," sighed the head technician. "She probably has slept off the drug I gave her to sleep after her little tour."

"Why did you have to drug her?"

"Oh, you know our secrecy clause. She was rather excited. Best to have her UNIT friends find her... mysteriously back at HQ."

A urgent bleeping sounded from the breast pocket of the physicist's corduroy blazer. With one hand he withdrew a miniature walkie-talkie. "Report?" he said calmly. Weissman, the dark suited Jung, and Ethridge all watched the slender figure in silence. With relish, Jung swigged his hot tea, trying to calm his agitated temper.

"Powell here. Cameras have spotted two intruders in the outer passage. Fifty yards from your proximity."

"You know what to do."

"What was that all about?" asked Jung.

"A minor technicality..." answered the physicist, scratching his neck, covered in an itchy wool turtleneck.

"Run and hide," came his answer, as he hurriedly stashed his eavesdropper into one cloak pocket. Quickly he took her hand, leading her back into the main passageway. Angry shouts mingled with the pounding feet of their pursuers. Dancing lights clustered all around. A shriek sounded as Vitreum was wrenched from his grasp. "Doc!" Had she fallen somewhere?

"Rayna!" he shouted. She was lost... the dark cave had swallowed a victim. Angrily he swung out at the large fireflies in a Venusian Karate kick. Twinkling lights dispelled... only to swarm about him and explode like a roman candle in his brain.

"Sir!"

"What is it now, Padyesh?"

"You know Saunders?"

"Yes?"

"He's gone! Just gone like a shot! He was running the experiment for Weissman. He said he'd gone to check the circuits... in one of the tunnels. We keep them there so the massive power generated by Weissman's machine won't damage them."

"And?"

"Saunders walked down that tunnel... and there was a flash... and I didn't see him again!"

"Most interesting. You know that that's the second time that's happened."

"I don't know if we should continue the tests....:

"Don't you see... this means we're even closer to the threshold of time manipulation! I'll hypothesize that Saunders was sucked into a time rip... that's wonderful..."

"But sir... what will happen to Saunders... did he go back into time... or forwards?"

"Perhaps he will just go back and forth... from our time to his... I don't know."

At last he rolled onto his back, gazing up at the tiled ceiling. Florescent panels cast their dim light on his debonair features. "Mm, there's a grating... must lead to some sort of air duct," he mused, meditating on the minute holes speckling acoustic tiles overhead. Patiently he lay still, waiting for the situation to turn to his favor. The roots of a plan dug into the fertile soil of his mind. This was a good chance for him to stop and think... and hope, as usual.

The Doctor tensed his lean body as he heard the scrape of a door bolt being drawn back. The concrete floor reverberated with footsteps. "Lay off, will you?" demanded a familiar voice in an American accent.

"Don't be rude gentlemen," said a much deeper voice. "Get the young lady a chair."

Shutting his eyes, the Doctor feigned sleep. A dragging moan and a scrape told him that somebody was being tied into one of the chairs.

"Wakey, wakey, rise and shine," cooed a voice mockingly. One gloved hand roughly shook his shoulder.

"What a rude awakening," he mumbled. Opening his eyes, he saw the geologist RaynaVitreum across a brightly lit room. Three guards surrounded her, squirming against coils of a strange plastic fiber that bound her to a spindle chair. "Rayna? Are you well?" he called to her.

"Doctor!" she responded, surprised to see him. "As okay as I'm gonna with these guys staring holes through me."

"You must be uncomfortable sir," patronized the young woman who appeared to be in charge. Her plastic name badge bore a computer printed photo, and a surname; POWELL.

"Yes, I am tied down at the moment,"

"Witty as ever, is he?"

Two of the burly men hefted the Doctor to a sitting position. With two pairs of huge hands that could have covered their faces twice, they effortlessly dumped the Doctor into a similar chair near Rayna. The woman in charge unfastened the shackles from his aching ankles and unclipped the handcuff from his left wrist.

"Thank you very much..." he said. The smile from his face vanished into a heavily wrinkled grimace. Rayna winced as the men twisted the Doctor's arm back, nearly wrenching it from its socket. "Thank you for nothing," he scowled, gritting his teeth as they trussed him up with a strange plastic flex, the same type that bound Rayna.

"Hey! Lay off him!" shouted Rayna in anger, squirming in her chair. "I'm lodging a complaint about your crazy room service!"

"Wrap up Yank!" snapped the man. "Or it's a gag for your pretty yap!"

"I suggest you sit and think for a while why you are in this predicament," said Powell, arms folded across her trendy blouse.

"Oh, excuse me miss, but I seem to have forgotten," said the Doctor, a hint of sarcasm present. "Why are we here?"

"Where is Doctor Moore!" shouted Rayna.

"The seismologist?" asked Powell, raising one eyebrow.

"Yes. What is it that you're taking such great pains to hide down here?" added the Doctor suspiciously.

"Figure it out yourself, Doctor. After all you are yourself a brilliant scientist," sniffed Powell, preparing to leave the room.

"Doctor? Are you okay?" asked Rayna, dragging her chair a bit closer to him. "Hope those jerks didn't dislocate your humerus from your scapula."

"Actually, my clavicle is complaining," grunted the Doctor, pushing his chair around to face her with his long legs. Rayna had the correct physiological human terms, even if they both were Time Lords. For a moment he stayed silent, then suggested, "How about coming over and keeping us company?"

"Sounds fair enough. Meet you halfway."

They half-bounced, half drug their chairs across the room to each other. Rayna rocked and hopped in her chair, for her short legs barely touched the floor. It was a matter of time before they got their chairs back to back. "What on Earth is this stuff?" grunted Vitreum.

"My dear, we just have got to stop meeting like this."

"You're not kidding," agreed Rayna. "With all the stuff that's been going on, somebody would think I was a secret agent instead of a geologist."

To this comment, he made no answer. "Let's have a go at getting those wretched fibers tying us to the chairs off you for a start," suggested the Doctor.

"Be my guest," offered Rayna. "Sure you can figure out how we are tied up?"

"They've handcuffed my wrists together, yet there seems to be a rope tying me to the chair. I watched them do something similar to you."

"You'll have to take my gloves off first, so I can get the knots."

"Maybe I have a piece of obsidian in my pocket. Tell you what. While you play magician, I'll try using it to cut your ropes." A bit surprised, the Doctor felt her sawing away at his fibers with something. Meanwhile, he busied himself with working on the knots in her bonds. His ungloved fingers brushed against hers as he unraveled several knots. Rayna giggled and writhed. "Ease off, Doc! That tickles! Gosh you have cold hands!"

"Colder the better. First one I know of who's ticklish in the hands. Except maybe that one species of beings in the Acteon galaxy."

"Don't be crazy. You must mean Andromeda.. the Kelvas... with sensitive nerve endings..."

"Might as well give up Vitreum. These fibers are rather unpliable," grunted the Doctor, gritting his teeth as the fibers dug further into his arms. Any minute it seemed his light spinning head would detach and float away. His very cheeks wrinkled up with the effort to breath. "Nearly there, Rayna." To his relief, he felt the binding ropes fall free. Gratefully the Doctor drew in refreshing droughts of air. "Ah... well done, Rayna. Very resourceful," he complimented.

"Good thing I carry some samples with me," nodded Vitreum, finally sliding her arms up as he undid the last knot. "How'd you learn to untie knots like that? From Harry Houdini himself?"

"Quite a charming chap. A bit unrefined as a cabaret performer, but a brilliant illusionist." Rayna slid to the floor and rolled to her feet. With great dexterity she stepped through her cuffed wrists and turned her hands, so now her cuffed hands were in front instead of behind her back. The Doctor followed her example.

"What luck. This situation is getting more and more like a James Bond movie all the time," spoke Rayna in amazement. "The typical ventilation shaft to escape through. What next?"

Using one of the chairs as a step ladder, the Doctor climbed onto the table. "Ah yes, just the correct height," he nodded in self approval. He was just able to reach the screen with his long white fingers.

"Now we're in business," smiled Rayna from the floor below. The Doctor pried the screen off. To his horror it slipped from his hands. Vitreum managed to catch it before it could hit the floor with a noisy clatter. "Good reflexes," breathed the Doctor in relief. Clutching the screen, dark haired Rayna climbed to her feet. "Give us your hand then," instructed the Doctor, holding out both hands sleeved in lacy frills. Still they were secured together with the handcuffs. Unfortunately, neither one had managed to remove them yet. The Doctor had tried his sonic screwdriver, but it only worked on electronic locks. Side by side they perched on the table.

"Better check if the shaft's wide enough," suggested Vitreum. Reaching into her vest pocket, she drew out a small metal flashlight. "They didn't notice this sewn into my vest pocket," she explained.

The Doctor grinned. "You're prepared for anything."

"This'll be just like spelunking," she replied, hiding a look of anxiety on her face in a enthused smile. Holding the Doctor's hand, she climbed onto the table. The Doctor helped to boost her into the shaft, pushing against her hiking booted feet until they disappeared. A few seconds later, he heard her voice echo through the aperture. "There's a three by three foot passageway up here," she reported.

"Coming up," called the Doctor. Leaping up on the chair, he gripped the edges of the square grating. He thrust his head and broad shoulders through first, then scrambled on his belly into the pitch darkness. Indeed the passage was wider than he had first expected, for Vitreum huddled to his right in relative comfort. Light from the room below shone on their faces. "Which way now?" asked Vitreum.

Taking a handkerchief from his left hand pocket, the Doctor held the square of fabric first to the left, than the right. A faint draft wafted the fine silk material. "To the left, perhaps?" he asked. "Pass me the flashlight."

With only the flashlight's beam to guide them, the Doctor led the way onwards. On their hands and knees they crawled, darkness ahead and behind. The smooth walls felt chilly to the touch, and faint moisture beaded on Rayna's fingertips as she touched the metal walls. "Like that cave," she reflected. Horizontal seams holding the pipe together occasionally snagged her canvas pants. She heard a low rush of air in the passage.

After what seemed an eternity to her, they arrived at a junction to a much narrower shaft, sloping upwards at nearly 75 degrees from the other. Quite oddly there were a series of slotted grates set into the middle of each of the four walls. The Doctor discovered that they made excellent hand and foot holds. "Simplicity itself," he reported to the scrambling Vitreum as she struggled up behind him. Warm air blowing from the gratings wafted into their faces as they climbed. Under Vitreum's fingers she felt a faint vibration. "A generator, perhaps?" she hoped.

"Oh, good grief!" exclaimed the Doctor through the dark.

"What's wrong, Doctor?" she asked.

"I'm stuck," he announced dryly. "Something's practically impaled me here. Must've caught my back on a conduit seam."

"Wait there. I'll come up to help you," offered Vitreum.

It had happened. The Doctor was in a tight position. His own shackled wrists could not separate to enable him to slide his own hands down his back. This made it difficult to tell exactly what was caught. At first the Doctor thought it was the buckled strap on the rear waist of his fancy trowsers. Due to his flamboyant taste in clothes, he often wore the old fashioned style that needed no belt or suspenders. Instead, the strap itself across the back tightened snugly.

He felt young Rayna slide up close to him in the narrow shaft. In one hand he held the flashlight, shining its beam downwards. Face lit up by its distorted circle her glasses gleamed. "Seems like you are a bit stuck," she observed.

"Top of the class. These wretched trews!" he complained annoyedly. Only inches from his face, Rayna bit her lip to keep from laughing. The corners of her mouth twitched. She then saw the Doctor's debonair features bear a slight smile. "Seems like my fashion statements are a bit of a nuisance." he admitted.

"Got a file, or something?"

"Try and reach my left inner pocket. There's a small, old fashioned screwdriver there, I think. Pass it up to me, will you?" he asked her quietly. Small hands slid between the cool silk lining of his velvet jacket and the ruffles of his shirt. With some difficulty, Rayna passed the small tool into his flashlight hand. "Now try and take the torch while I work." Screwdriver in hand, he jiggled the lock on her cuffs. She heard a click as they popped open, and a jingle as she felt them fall away from her wrists. There was however a second clink, as the Doctor accidentally dropped the screwdriver too. "Ah well," he sighed.

Rayna wedged her feet and back more firmly against the shaft sides, sliding both hands around his hips and waist. "You sure it's your waist still that's caught?" she asked.

"I think it's my jacket, actually," he answered, shifting experimentally as Rayna bumped her head against his outstretched arms. "Here, slide up a bit under my left arm here," he suggested. Vitreum nodded, then gingerly scooted in between his two cuffed hands clinging to the forward grating. She tried to slide till his white haired head was level with her chest, and she could gaze down his back... to almost see what was caught.

Violent tremors juddered the shaft. There she felt a blast of air from above. Shrieking, Vitreum felt her feet slip off the slick walls. Instantly a pair of wrists locked together behind her back, arresting her fall. "Got you now," muttered the Doctor. Quite firmly he'd planted his feet into the shaft sides. It was a strange feeling in that narrow shaft, huddled close out of necessity to a person she'd only known for a few days. Rayna was sure he could feel her double heartbeats, with her body pressed close to his chest. Low murmurs of people's conversations permeated from outside. Was this what it was like... for a set of twins, waiting to be born as they sat close physically and emotionally inside the womb? Slowly, she worked the Doctor's jacket free from the grating. Conundrum lurked through the dark infinity above and below.

Strange garbled noises echoed eerily about them. Quick and labored she breathed, as she tensed still to listen. Another shudder shook the shaft, and Vitreum clung tightly to the Doctor for support. Carefully he pulled her, like a small child, to sit on his left raised knee. The Doctor felt her whole frame shivering in his arms, pressing closely. Was she cold from the wind... or afraid perhaps? Normally she had great success in overcoming any doubts when encouraged. Perhaps a deep seated memory now seized her being. He almost shared the chills of horror fraying her nerves. What was it that she highlighted earlier about her story in the cave? Claustrophobia? He had to admit himself that crawling blindly through these dim shafts into a great black unknown wasn't very thrilling at the moment. Arms wrapped around each other, the duo sat there motionless.

"Nature's processes... ARe GOING too far for us TOO COPE WITH..." said one.

"OPENED a can of Vorms... didn'T WE?" blabbed a German accent. Gently he massaged her tense tight back. "Come along now, Rayna," he soothed softly, looking her straight in her dark brown eyes. "It's alright, I assure you." The flashlight shone ghostly through the Doctor's wavy white hair. "Once I get these silly handcuffs off, we'll move on."

"Can I go a little ahead of you, Doctor?" whispered Rayna at last. "I just want... to make sure... nothing will suddenly jump out. Facing the dark is better... than having it swallow me." Memories of the cave still engrossed her mind.

Smiling warmly, the Doctor almost read her thoughts. He'd humor her, help her overcome this apprehension. "How about a little mental exercise to focus on?" he suggested, nodding at his shackled wrists. "Remember the teacup?"

"Oh... yes, I remember," she whispered. Ever so slowly she drew in a deep breath, focussing her mental senses. One second later, and the Doctor's handcuffs flew free from his wrists. She felt him pat her back encouragingly. Soon she took back the flashlight and slid past him to lead the way. Junction after junction she led him, her clairvoyant sense revealing the layout of the system. "Keep up the good pace. I feel quite safe with you in the lead," encouraged the Doctor.

"I shouldn't have been so rattled about a small thing like climbing up a shaft," she scolded herself.

"That's not so absurd as you think."

"A scientific explorer should boldly face the unknown. I shrink away so much sometimes!"

"On this planet there's a saying: Discretion is the better part of valor. Anyway, it comes down to how you face that fear, and I think you're facing your fear quite nicely." he complimented from behind.

Fresh air soon wafted her hair, cold and refreshing. A gridwork of real sunlight fell onto her face from above. Could it really be? Her hands probed forwards and contacted with fine mesh... in the blinding light of day. Only mere millimeters away. She hammered away, not able to get the screen off fast enough.

Then came the blissful moment when her hands shot through and touched the rough gravelly ground. Paining eyes could hardly take in the change in light. Gentle drops of cold rain dripped onto her nose and blurred her glasses. "Doctor!" she choked. "It's really... outside!"

A steady push from behind, and she wriggled out onto the quarry floor. Shortly behind wormed the Doctor, the burgundy cloth of his smoking jacket caked with dirt and grime from the shaft. Rayna guessed she must look very much the same. "Well done," he gasped, rolling over to her and hugging her firmly. This was the first time he ever showed intense emotion, or gratitude towards her. They just sat there laughing in each other's arms, savoring open space and cool crisp air once more. Her eyes accommodated to the grey rainy sky. Even now the flamboyant white haired fellow lay in the muck like a child as his eyes accommodated to the change in light. Never had British rain felt so good.

"Excellent job of navigating, there," complimented the Doctor.

"Still, I can't quite get what came over me. Getting scared like that. Guess I always preferred climbing volcanoes to spelunking."

"Caves can prove quite interesting," he said. "The humans have hardly any idea what can be found there. In one of my previous adventures, I discovered a race of sentient reptile beings."

"You did? What were they like?"

"Very peaceful. This chap who was really a research physicist discovered them while he was potholing in Derbyshire. He named them Silurians. Apparently they shared the earth with the dinosaur."

"Silurians?" repeated Rayna dubiously, wincing. "The guy botched that one up. I can see that he wasn't a geologist! Mesozoics would've been a great name for them."

At her reaction, the Doctor smiled. "Quite. Spoken like a true geologist. Was just a hobby for him."

"How did your pals at UNIT accept talking saurians?" asked Rayna.

The Doctor's face darkened with anger as the memory resurfaced. "He blew up the whole lot of them. Murdered!"

"My ears are still ringing with all what those weirdos said back there in that base. What if they do achieve Time Travel?"

Watching the empty road ahead, he was silent for a moment. "I can't quite say," he finally answered. "But I think there is a danger of a serious rip in Earth's time-space fabric."

"Could be. But I wish there was something I could use to study the connection between the rocks and the..."

"Somewhere in my lab I have a particle analyzer. I agree a molecular scan would prove most informative."

Suddenly, Vitreum's eyes fixed firmly upon her portable seismograph readout. "Oh no..."

"What is it?" The words scarcely escaped the Doctor's lips when the road beneath them began to quake.

"Pull off the road!" cried Rayna. "Seven point five... and coming..." Thunder masked the rest of her speech. He'd just pulled over to the side of the road when he felt her drag him from the driver's seat.

Brigadier Lethbrige-Stuart mopped his sweaty forehead. Dr. Moore had shoved him under a nearby oaken desk, only mere minutes ago. They still cowered there now, side by side. Slowly the Brigadier rose, angry and annoyed at hiding from the enemy... his mind could not accept the possibility that the Earth might be his adversary. Finger jabbing the intercom button he coughed, "Captain Yates! Major Bartlett?"

Bare static ensued. At last a voice responded, the best sound the Brigadier had heard in ages. "Bartlett... here sir..."

"What the blazes happened, Major?"

"The complex... is under attack.... fire bombs must have knocked out several of the buildings..."

"What's your position?"

"Near the Science wing.... they seem to have barricaded us out..."

"Take emergency action then!" thundered the Brigadier, at last confronted with an enemy he was trained to deal with. His mind accepted the explanation of a bombing attempt. "You can get up now, Professor Moore. Things will be under control, once we capture those saboteurs..."

"S-saboteurs?" asked Moore tentatively, picking herself up. "Are you certain that earthquake... was a bomb?"

"Halt!" shouted a gruff voice.

"What on Earth?"

"Doctor!" exclaimed the same voice. "Hold your fire, men!" From behind one wall stepped the Brigadier and Sergeant Benton, flanked by troops. Surprised, they regarded the forms of Rayna and the Doctor. Blackened with grime and quarry dust, wearing tattered clothing they were. "Thank goodness you're back, Doctor."

"This reminds me very much of San Francisco," commented Rayna quietly. With one finger she pushed up her glasses and scanned the disastrous scene.

"Brigadier... there's something very disturbing going on at that quarry!"

"Not now Doctor... UNIT's got enough on it's hands now. There's been a disaster at Stratford. Half my men are there. And now this blasted attack on our Headquarters."

"Attack, nothing!" interrupted Rayna. "Your HQ was just the epicenter of an earthquake..." here she stooped to peer at the huge cracks in the pavement. "About seven point three on the Richter scale, I'd say."

"It's about time someone else believed me," sniffed Moore, suddenly running up.

"I meant to inform you, Dr. Moore," said Benton. "Your lab's been broken into during the attack."

"What the hell was stolen?" she demanded.

"Some rocks.... rock samples."

"Did you mention an attack?" asked the Doctor.

"Right, Doctor. Now you're being sensible," responded the Brigadier. "About ten minutes ago, a saboteur group broke into and barricaded themselves into the science wing. They already left Dr. Moore's lab."

"Take me back there... quick!" cried Moore.

"Benton... take Dr. Moore there... but be careful." Escorted by the Sergeant, the seismologist raced off to her temporary lab cubicle, followed by the geologist.

"What do you make of this, Doctor? And what the deuce happened to you at that quarry?"

"Strange that Moore showed up here."

"She told us that she'd just gotten lost in the quarry... delayed by those two scientists I dismissed... Weissman and Padyesh I think."

"As for me I just had a routine bout with potholing... without the proper equipment... speaking of."

"No Doctor," interrupted the Brigadier, catching sight of the look in his eyes. "I cannot allow you to go back to your lab just yet. The terrorists may still be in there, for all we know."

"Whatever you say sir," nodded the Doctor. "But surely you cannot expect me to gallivant about dressed like this all afternoon..."

"There are some of your new clothes... in the Sickbay... newly dry cleaned."

"If you'll excuse me, then," said the Doctor.

Dr. Moore and Rayna desperately scanned the ransacked lab. Tables lay on their sides. Samples of quartz and mica lay scattered all over the floor. She raced over to one cardboard box and stared inside. "They took the lava..." she snapped irritably.

"Sorry miss, but they came in right after the bombing!"

"I told you it was an earthquake... or an aftershock!" she corrected him. "What would they want with paramagnetic lava?"

"More than you could imagine," replied Rayna.

Halls stretched out before him, silent and shadowed. Humming cheerfully to himself, the Doctor reviewed in his mind what specific equipment he'd need to further explore the Cheddar Gorge cave system. After the recent quarry incident, he and Rayna were convinced that the supernatural force made by the lab there was somehow connected to the caves. Dr. Moore had only narrowly escaped capture herself. He slipped quietly into the lab.

All was still and dim in the afternoon light. Gratefully, the Doctor noted that his equipment had apparently remained untouched. Picking up his black bag, he began to sort through some equipment from a nearby lab table. "Wherever did I place my portable particle analyzer?" he wondered. Momentarily puzzled, he paused.

Snapping his fingers, he suddenly remembered. "Ah yes! Left it in the TARDIS." Then, after unlocking the door, he disappeared inside. The police box stood oblong in its corner, casting a steady shadow. Footsteps echoed in the corridor. Emerging from the TARDIS, the Doctor hadn't the slightest idea he was being watched. In one hand he carried the missing particle analyzer. Strangely, one of the cabinets to his left had a door that stood slightly ajar.

Suspicion filled his mind. He froze, readying himself. Dropping his black bag, the Doctor whipped open the door. Somebody grasped his shoulders tightly. Briefly they grappled, the Doctor finding himself combatting an opponent as elusive as smoke. He was flung against the side of the TARDIS. Quickly, the Doctor leapt to his feet, frilly cuffed wrists held forwards to parry his attacker.

A flurry of black.

BANG! A shot smashed into the Doctor's chest. The force threw him backwards. Pressing one hand to the wound, he grimaced. Onto his left knee he fell. Groaning loudly, he felt his strength ebb away with the cry. All his muscles went limp as he felt himself collapse onto his back, spread on his cloak like a fallen bird.

After watching him convulse into stillness, a figure darted away.

Outside, Rayna felt a cold wash of apprehension. Something was very wrong. Dr. Moore saw her press a hand to her forehead. "What's the matter, Rayna?" she asked. Instantly Rayna raced out of Moore's lab, towards the science wing. Her intuition screamed danger as a rush of sudden heat. She sighted the heavy wooden door to the Doctor's lab, throwing herself towards it.

The scene behind it fixed her rigid in the doorway. A dastardly familiar realization hit her, leaden and solid. There lay the Doctor, sprawled in front of the TARDIS. What flashed into her mind at that moment was her nightmare of several days ago. This was an eerily perfect match.

At once she went to kneel at his side to examine him. He lay there so still and helpless. A stark contrast to the swashbuckling scientist that she had come to know. His youthful wrinkled face was tightly drawn into a reflection of the pain she thought he must have felt. Ordinarily healthy pinkish complexion was flushed to ash grey, and his eyes were tightly pressed shut. Bending over, she positioned her cheek over his mouth and nose, only feeling the faintest trace of his breathing.

Pressing her ear to his chest, she heard no heartbeat. Frantic she switched sides, hearing a slow strained lubdub. Through the soft velvet of his smoking jacket, she received a coldness that chilled her own nerves. Time Lords had a lower body temperature than humans, about 60 degrees Fahrenheit. The Doctor's was abnormally low. Equally cold icy despair sent its shivers up Rayna's spine. For a moment she gazed sadly at the Doctor's horizontal figure. Taking his left hand in hers, she squeezed it tightly, feeling the absence of strength in the large bony fingers. She fingered the twisted gold bracelet, and the watch he always wore. Pressed the hand to her cheek and felt the lacy cuff.

Rayna choked on the strange tightening in her throat, so characteristic of sadness. Gently she laid the hand over his stomach. Her eyes burned; wet tears crept down her hot cheeks. Practical side of her mind took over as she attempted to revive him. First, she untied the black silk cravat from around his collar and unbuttoned the top of his shirt to free his air passage. Feeling with the back of her hand, she realized he had stopped breathing!

She propped up his neck, hyperextending it. Lightly she brushed his silvery white hair aside, placing one hand on his forehead to keep the head tilted back. Had to breathe for him... several quick puffs in rapid secession. Shyly she drew up and shivered. Sure enough, there was a faint exhalation in response. She pulled off his cloak, wrapping it around him to increase his body temperature.

Thoughts raced through her mind at great velocity. She recalled brief flashes of memory, time spent with the Doctor's other various incarnations. In her own random travels about the cosmos, she had run across different stages of his time stream. When she had run away from a ruthless mining company, she had shortly run into the Fourth Doctor. Together they had thwarted the same company's plan to drain a planet of its mineral resources. What a genius, and a buffoon with his wide grin and mop of curly brown hair standing on end! But it was the latest incarnation, the seventh, that she had come to know first.

She recalled their first meeting, nearly ages ago. She and the young scots boy Andrew had just materialized their own time ship outside the Doctor's TARDIS. She was a mere Junior Time Lord then. A huge Vortex storm encroached upon the two time machines, and Rayna's TARDIS began to disintegrate. By a desperate plan the Doctor rigged dematerialization to her console. By the time the ship hit the storm, the Doctor's TARDIS would dematerialize outside to a safe dimension. Andrew and Rayna became fellow travelers with him after that. When the Seventh Doctor's friend Ace left him, he was extremely lonely. Rayna somehow filled the gaps, but could not fully comfort the loss.

"He'd said he'd pick me up in the Twentieth Century," she remembered. "All this happened just because I told him I wanted to visit Oxford in the prime of knowledge. What a century to pick!" Most clearly of all she saw his face, one that might never exist if this past incarnation died. All so inextricably linked, drawn into a lucky or unlucky number sevenfold.

Anger boiled up in her mind. She could, and would save him. Examining the would, she found the projectile that had hit. A hollow dart, holding traces of a poison! She bent over her note book, scribbling formulas fiercely. Already she assembled the necessary test tubes, and the particle analyzer from his black bag. Her hands moved as if possessed. If only she could remember how to do chemistry!

A sudden rush of a mind filled with hatred and dark evil thoughts. She straightened up. The shatter of glass... BANG!

It seemed as if Rayna's whole abdomen was on fire. The pain spread like shards of glass slicing up Rayna's nerves. Someone screamed; it was herself! Hands clutched at an identical dart in her own body. The hollow cartridge was half-full of poison. Doubling over in pain, she braced her right hand against the hard floor to support herself.

Formulas on the page swam before her eyes. "Must try, to fight it..." she gritted, pulling the dart from herself. Fighting the arising blackness in her mind she doggedly struggled to make an antitoxin before the poison spread throughout both their bodies, killing them.

With a tremendous force of will, Rayna scanned the poison with the particle analyzer. She barely remembered chemistry, testing the various possibilities, but she had no choice except to try. Minutes drug like hours, but every second flashed by like cars on an interstate. "So little time, even for a Time Lord," she gasped. At last she had two possible dosages worked out for an antitoxin, but one would be just as dangerous as the poison, being a wrong dosage. "Why must I hold death in my hands," she cried in anguish.

There was no turning back now. Grabbing the Doctor's wrist, she slid up his lace cuff. Slowly she infused 10 ml of 2 molar concentration into his arm. Things blurred before her wildly tracking eyes into near undiscernible gloom. Not much longer now. Fumbling fingers closed on the other syringe, driving it into her own thigh in blind desperation.

She felt the earth spin dizzily as she slumped to the floor. Only her heartbeat pulsing slow and strong existed. White hot pains seared her sick nerves, seizing her twitching muscles. Laying with her head on the Doctor's chest, she succumbed to the spread of the poison. Every cell in her body ached.

Two figures lay motionless of the lab floor. A tall, white haired man in a ruffled shirt and velvet smoking jacket. Beside him lay the curled form of a young brunette, head buried in his chest. Her dark hair spread all over her face and his shirt front in disarray. One small tanned hand extended over his large bony one, barely touching.

"Brigadier," said Moore, running up. "Rayna just ran off like a shot... and didn't explain why."

"I'm terribly sorry about your lab. What was stolen?"

"Just some samples of paramagnetic lava that Rayna tried to show to me earlier."

Dressed in the beret and khaki of a field uniform, Captain Yates looked on nervously. He rallied his own men for the attack, hoping no more of his comrades would suffer. Blurs of beige and light green shot past the commanding officers as the troops rallied for the assault.

"I-I'm alive," he stammered, in surprise.

Sitting up, he yawned and stretched, shaking off the remnants of poisonous sleep. Tossing aside his cloak, he smoothed out his crumpled jacket. Strangely he felt a weight upon his lap which slid to the floor with a heavy organic thump. Dazedly he realized that it was the body of RaynaVitreum. The missing particle analyzer he'd hunted for, along with a rack of test tubes, lay inches from her right hand.

He knelt beside her. Carefully he rolled Rayna onto her back. Examining her quickly, he noted her tightly closed fist. Prying it open, he found and empty syringe. On the floor near where he lay moments before there was a hollow dart. Patting his chest he felt a rip in his fancy white shirt over one heart.

Seeing a tattered notebook, he snatched up the spiral bound sheaf of paper. Rapidly he leafed through her hastily scrawled notes and chemical formulas. The dart had a strange putrid odor, as well as the test tubes and syringe. Bewildered, he pieced together what transpired. There had been a paralyzing shot to his chest... and darkness. "She must have developed an antitoxin... she saved my life?"

Rayna's blackish-brown hair lay over her face in disarray. Softly he brushed the hair away, revealing her young face contorted into a final defiant gasp. "Poor brave girl," he murmured, touching her cheek, firm with collagen. Ever so gently he pulled her head and shoulders onto his knees. Yet she breathed, ever so slowly the shallow rush of air wafted his hand.

Taking one pale wrist, he barely felt the pulse that thudded against death.

Clearly, in her protective coma, Rayna was battling to save her own life now, that she had saved his. Under his fingers the muscles in her wrist twitched. Grasping the notebook again, the Doctor scanned the formulas. In his dismay he realized that she had injected the correct dosage into him, while selecting the wrong one for herself! He felt a quickening pulse in her wrist, growing every second into the characteristic double pulse of a Time Lord from Gallifrey. By and by, Rayna's long lashed eyes fluttered open. She stared weakly up at a shadowed blur with a shock of wavy white hair. "Doctor? You-you're alive?" she stammered. "Are... you... okay?"

"Shouldn't I ask you that?" he returned. "Oh, why ever did you experiment on yourself like a mad scientist? Could have quite a bit of difficulty trying to enjoy your results if you had expired!" he scolded gently.

"I can't see, a darn thing... where are my glasses?" she coughed, almost laughing. The Doctor grinned. This was the geologist he knew! All of a sudden, he felt her hand grip his arm tightly. Gasping and heaving, she started to convulse in his lap. Perspiration beaded on her forehead. "How could I... have been... ugh! so stupid? Wrong... dosage... of anti-... antitoxin!"

"Relax Rayna! Fight it!" he urged, leaning over her in concern. Desperately he concocted another serum. Her muscles continued their violent quivering. Low groans escaped her windpipe as she tried not to scream. "I won't--let it get me!" she shouted, eyes blinking wildly.

"Steady on Rayna, it's almost done," he reassured, unbuttoning her sleeve. Excess serum shot out the tip of the upturned needle as the Doctor adjusted the cc level. Rapidly he pricked her wrist and slid home the plunger. "There we are now."

"I don't want to let you down... but it's so hard... to hold on..."

"I know there is much pain for you," sympathized the Doctor, waiting with another primed needle. "Yet I dare not attack all the antitoxin at once. It's too potent. Just lay there quietly, and I'll try to ease the pain a bit."

He held her firmly, shifting her head and shoulders to the crook of one elbow. Softly he began to hum as he prepared the next dosages. As he progressed, the humming swelled to a slow melodic chant of strange words. Head reeling in the spinning room, Rayna almost blacked out.

The Doctor increased the volume and tempo of his song. "Hahruun... hahruun..." he warbled louder. Rubbing her forehead, his hand travelled up and massaged her scalp in tempo with the syllabication. His tenor voice sang soothing melodic tones, so irresistible that she just had to stay awake to listen to them. The words sounded almost familiar, yet gentle and strange the way he crooned them. A sense of warmth and security she hadn't felt since she was a little girl now saturated her being. Several hundred years ago her mother would rock her and sing a familiar lullaby to quell her fears. But the words weren't these... yathleedna shena tyrana... heruun... heruun.

One hand resting on his sleeve, she stroked the soft velvet of his jacket. Lace on his cuff prickled and tickled her face occasionally as his other hand passed overhead. Placidly she settled into the curve of his arm. Doses of medicine now poured down her throat. Chanting arrested Rayna's pain, realized the Doctor. He smiled, starting another verse. She could hold up against the poison, and stay awake if she concentrated on the words and tonal quality of his droning lullaby. He wouldn't let the poisonous sleep seize her soul again.

An agonizing crash jarred her senses as a UNIT patrol burst into the lab. To the anxious Brigadier, the wrecked lab benches indicated quite a brawl. He saw Rayna unconscious on the floor, and the scientific advisor wailing in pain beside her.

Several first aid personnel tried to drag Rayna away from the Doctor to examine her. Agitated he snapped at them, "What the blazes do you think you're doing? Can't you see I'm trying to save her life?"

"She looks unconscious sir," reported one trainee to the young naval doctor, Harry Sullivan. Quickly he looked over

Rayna. "Poor girl. Victim of some neurotoxic poison."

"Isn't that obvious, you idiot?" cried the Doctor, pulling away from the energetic Sullivan as he pressed a stethoscope to the Doctor's chest.

"Come along now, Doctor. Don't make a fuss. Just want you to cough a bit," grunted Sullivan, struggling with the protesting Doctor. "Better start an IV on her, Jones."

"Don't be stupid, man! You'll make things worse!" Shoving past him, he scrambled towards where Rayna lay.

This reaction caught the Brigadier off guard. "Steady on, Doctor," he said, blocking the Doctor from the medics. "Let's be sensible. After all, you have had a nasty blow."

"I tell you I was getting along fine until your buffoons came barging in here like bulls in a china shop, and nearly scaring the living daylights out of..."

"Take Miss Vitreum to the sickbay," ordered the Brigadier. Unhindered by the Doctor, the medics set Rayna on a stretcher and prepared to move her.

"She needs special care..."

"The UNIT sickbay is fine enough Lieutenant Sullivan," whispered the Brigadier, nodding towards the fuming Doctor.

Calming down, the Doctor heaved a sigh and turned to the two men. "Frightfully sorry for being rude to you just now," he apologized to Sullivan. "Your men were only doing their duty."

"No hard feelings, Doctor."

"Perhaps I can help you. Excuse me a minute!" he called to the medics as they hefted Rayna's stretcher. In one large ivory white hand he held a bottle of serum. With care he handed it to Harry. "Give her this antitoxin every two hours until she comes round."

"Thank you, Doctor," nodded Sullivan, taking the vial, and shaking his hand. "Don't you worry. She's in good hands."

"Troops dismissed," barked the Brigadier. He could tell that the Doctor wanted to speak to him alone.

"At ease, Private Nelson." said Yates. UNIT's sickbay was perhaps one of the most up-to-date among military health clinics in London. Medical technicians and nurses bustled about on their various shifts. Dr. Buchanan, UNIT's chief medical officer, stood in brief conference with two nurses, and a visiting doctor, Sullivan, the navy surgeon.

"Our latest patient's been in a coma most of the time," reported the white coated Sullivan, fiddling with his stethoscope. One hand ran through a mass of dark curly hair on his handsome head.

"Excuse me," interrupted Yates, walking up to them. "But I was wondering about Miss Vitreum, or is it Vitreum? Will she be well soon?"

"Good afternoon, Captain," said Dr. Buchanan cordially, pushing up her half-glasses and regarding him. Moderate height, dressed in her standard UNIT uniform. She was perhaps in her early forties, evident by the white hairs encroaching upon her light brown shortly-cut hairdo.

"I wondered how the patient was."

"To tell you the truth, we are not quite certain."

"I heard about her accident. Victim of poisoning, was it?"

sighed Yates in sympathy.

"Right Yates," said Buchanan. "According to the Medics, that scientific advisor and she received massive amounts of a rare neurotoxic poison. You know, its baffling how they survived the attack."

"Oh?"

Buchanan held up an empty syringe dart. "When I analyzed this, the dosage was exceedingly potent!"

"Could have bally well killed a huge elephant, let alone two people," added Sullivan.

"Somehow the two of them had a natural resistance that kept them alive long enough to receive help."

"Well, the Brigadier wanted to know if things were functioning well in the clinic. Several men were wounded by makeshift bombs set off on the grounds," added Sullivan.

"Any casualties?" asked Yates, rather hesitatingly.

"Fourteen injuries, but all in stable condition. None dead," responded Officer Buchanan.

"One weird thing though," pointed out Sullivan. "That one fellow you call your Scientific Advisor.. Dr. Jones... or is it Smith? He's gone missing."

One nurse stopped to talk to the two physicians. "Time for Miss Vitreum's dosage?"

"Yes," agreed Buchanan, selecting a bottle from the nurses's tray.

"Could I just see her a moment?"

"I'm afraid not, sir," advised Sullivan. "She's still in a very bad way."

"Then, may I leave these for her instead?"

"Oh, yes, those are lovely," whistled Buchanan, eyeing the large bouquet. "Of course sir! I'll have them put right on her bedside table."

"No problem with that sir," said Sullivan, looking up from a chart he'd just been perusing. "Flowers have been pouring in for her from all over the center."

"Thank you ma'am," smiled Yates charmingly. "I shall be back again later when she's improved!"

Silent and still, Rayna lay on her bed. Breathing was slow and nearly nonexistent. Soft sunlight cast bright bars across her sleeping face. Multiple blooms of pink carnations, white roses, and daises sang out, reflecting its borrowed illumination.

her sensitive eyes. A blurry myopic mist swam before them undiscerning, until it settled into a more distinct fuzzy outlines of squares and cubes. Rayna shook in alarm that she couldn't move her head an inch. Stiff and corpselike she was, frozen forever in time. "Doc... Doctor?" she could barely moan, although the word shrieked clear and loud in her mind.

Sillohuettes drifted about her bed. "She's coming round," echoed a man's baritone voice.

"Doctor? Where are you," she groaned.

"Don't worry miss, your Doctor's here..." echoed a woman's voice. A sudden sharp stick pricked her soft arm. "Infuse several drops of antitoxin."

Quickly the world rotated, the bed drifting out from under her as she soared. Unable to move or speak anymore, Rayna slid away on the tides of sleep. Into dark whirling void she fell, farther and farther enclosed by the folds of midnight where no star dares shine.

"Hello," spoke a familiar voice. "I knew you'd come round soon."

"Huh? Who's there?" she asked, blinking in blinding sunlight.

"Dr. Maria Alverez Moore... the seismologist, remember. Are you feeling better, Rayna?"

Numbness dissipating in her arms, Rayna managed to slide up further on her pillows. "I think," she yawned. "But where on Earth am I now?"

"You gave us all such a fright. Buchanan thought you'd never wake up."

"Don't worry. It's just a special defense I learned back home."

"I see... back in the States? Did you have a Tibetan monastery there? It seems that coma was self induced like the monks...."

"No, no,... oh never mind. It's a long story you would be bored hearing," she muttered.

"Feel up to a cup of tea?"

"Sure, why not?" Rayna blinked, trying to get a better look at Moore. Sitting on a stool by her bed, the seismologist wore a blue blazer with a flower print blouse underneath it. Feeling returned to Rayna's tight hand. To her joy, she unclenched and clenched her tanned fingers with ease. Rayna managed to take the mug of steaming hot tea. Amusedly she glanced at the characteristic green and orange striped UNIT mug. At her bedside, Dr. Moore had arranged a small tray of tea things. Bread and butter, along with some "biscuits" spread with marmalade and jam lay on a plate. Slowly, she nibbled at a cucumber sandwich. Moore rose from her stool, drawing closed the venetian blinds to dim the intense sunlight. Rayna then caught sight of the vase of carnations next to several bouquets of lilies, and one of white roses.

"Professor Moore, where is the Doctor," Rayna suddenly asked.

"Dr. Buchanan was just here talking with Dr. Sullivan... "

"No, I mean the Scientific Advisor!" She remembered that at a place like UNIT she had to be quite specific.

A look of doubt spread over her round olive face. "Oh, he seems to have disappeared."

"When, Moore? When?"

Picking up her own mug of tea, Moore stopped to think. "According to Dr. Sullivan, he left a dose of antitoxin for you, and wasn't seen since. Seemed healthy enough, strangely. You know he left you a bouquet of roses..."

Suddenly, a horrible thought popped into Rayna's head. "Uh oh! What if he was abducted by that crazy agency... or even worse..." Expecting the worst, she threw back her covers, fighting to get up.

Laying aside her tea things, Moore leapt to her feet. "Steady now, Miss Vitreum! You're in no condition to go anywhere, not now!"

"I must find out what's happened to him! There could be any number of dangers! Time's running out. Where on earth is my equipment..."

Calmly, Moore took her hand, patting it. "Please... don't worry yourself. I'm sure the Doctor is fine. Probably left on a scientific jaunt," she reassured her. "Meanwhile, you must worry about getting well. It is tempting, I know from experience, to rush out once you gain an inspiring idea."

Surprised by this concern, Rayna relaxed. "Vitreum?" she asked, testing the sound of her surname. Not quite right, but somehow. She was a bit annoyed at Moore trying to stop her, yet saw the logic in calming down to think. Slowly she examined the tea things set out.

"Well, I guess you're right," the geologist heaved resignedly. "Did you sit in here all this time just waiting for me to recover?"

"As a matter of fact I did. You've been doing so much work on the same theory I have, that it was the least I could do... for a fellow researcher."

"There's one question I'd like to ask you," said Rayna, settling down on her pillows once more.

"Yes?"

"Where did you disappear off to... when you were reported missing?"

"Oh, that," giggled Moore, a smile spreading across her face. "I was visiting the other Engletech scientists as a matter of fact. Do you know Weissman and Padyesh are there now?"

"Yes, I did hear of it," said Rayna, straightening her pillows.

"Engletech must have been desperate," quipped the seismologist. "Anyway, a rather pushy chap called--Oh I forgot his name--he asked if I was interested in joining Engletech. Offered me a free personal tour of their complex."

"And you went? What was the place like?"

"They found a large set of natural caves, about three levels. I saw the main gallery, with a huge device they were working on. I think it was that fellow Weissman's magnetic force generator he convinced Engletech was so great. Talking to Jung--ah that was his name-- said the thing did work after all."

"Did he explain at all what it was for?"

"Said it was part of their `greater good plan' or something," recounted Alverez, looking at the ceiling. "Anyway, the place was just a whole block of technical research labs on the lower two levels... and offices on the first two. They have a back entrance in the far wall of the quarry. But the main entrance faces the UNIT encampment."

"What did you make of this Engletech? Interested in joining, or anything?"

"Goodness gracious no!" gasped Moore, putting a hand on her heart. "That woman Powell is a real nut case... and so is that physicist! I'd not do my experiments... with blue denim guards marching just outside my lab!"

"Kind of like UNIT, eh?" needled Rayna.

"Quite, and the like," nodded Moore. "What exactly did you and the Doctor chap find when you went there?"

"A whole load of disturbing news. Did you know that those explosions were triggered off by an earthquake?"

"Mm yes... that rather would make sense. What bothers me is the sudden frequency of quakes we experience nearer and nearer to London."

"Do you think that the fault line... and there is one... can be increasing?" suggested Rayna.

"It's about time someone agreed with that new theory!" cried Moore in excitement.

"Great! You believe me!" sighed Rayna. "Somehow the geologic processes are going faster than humans can cope. What takes nearly a thousand years to happen is occurring in days!"

"Hmm," muttered Moore. "This all doesn't sound so good for us, does it?"

The nurse was baffled. All of the cabinets in Miss Vitreum's room were empty, but she still appeared to be half asleep. The blankets were pulled tightly over her head.

Yates knocked on the door of Rayna's sickbay room. The nurse answered the door. "Keep quiet sir," she whispered. "The patient is sound asleep." Michael nodded, tiptoeing in after the nurse.

"Why are the clothes-lockers open?" he asked, puzzled.

"I don't rightly know sir," replied the nurse. But thinking to herself, she suddenly whisked the covers back. The characteristic lumps under the blanket were really plumped pillows. Yates rushed out of the room.

The Doctor's lab was barren of the Scientific Advisor or Rayna. Frustrated, Captain Yates glanced at the tall blue shape of the Police Box standing in one far corner of the lab. "Where is she?" he wondered, scratching his head. He rattled the door, but it was securely locked as usual. "No way anyone could get in there except the Doctor, anyway," he remembered.

Crossing over to another corner of the lab, Yates picked up the receiver of the lab telephone. Hurriedly, he pushed the intercom button for the Brigadier's office. "Hello?" he said. "Yates here in the Advisor's lab. Rayna Vitreum... oh I mean, Rayna Vitreum is missing. Is the Brig there?"

Sergeant Benton's familiar voice squawked over the phone. "Nope sir," he replied. "Just gone out with the Major for a reconnoiter."

Captain Yates replaced the phone receiver and exited the lab. Slowly the TARDIS door swung open. Rayna cautiously peered through the half opened door. Nobody there. Softly she stepped out, wearing her set of spelunking gear, and a Bohemian style coat, several sizes too large to conceal the outfit. Wrapped several times around her neck was a long pastel striped scarf. Its ends almost brushed the floor as she vacated the Police Box. Oddly enough, this guise closely resembled that of one of the Doctor's future selves.

Her heavy hiking boots hardly made a sound as she tiptoed down the halls to the UNIT garages. On her way she passed the medical wing. Soldiers marched down the hall. Discreetly, Rayna backed into a doorway as they passed. "Uh oh!" she thought. "I guess the old `fluffed pillows under the bedspread' didn't work for long."

Even more rapidly she ran down the halls. Her plan pieced itself together bit by bit in her mind. Outside the main doors was the UNIT carpark. Rows of individual garages held various army transports. Running between the stalls of personal staff cars she shook her head. It was then she spotted the familiar license plate of the Doctor's "Bessie". How odd that his car was still here when the Doctor himself had gone. Rayna remembered that "Bessie" was perhaps the quickest car around here, for the Doctor had virtually rebuilt her engine with his constant tinkering.

She threw her knapsack into the front seat and climbed behind the wheel. Hearts pounding, Rayna turned the ignition key and listen to the edwardian car splutter into life. Above the engine, she could hear running footsteps. Mike Yates arrived at the carpark, just in time to see Rayna about to drive off in "Bessie". "You there! Stop right there!" barked Sergeant Benton, at his side.

"Alia jacta est," decided Rayna. She shifted the car into first, then drove off.

Captain Yates and Sergeant Benton raced for the nearest jeep. "Stop that car!" shouted Benton to the gate sentry. Leaping into the rugged vehicle, Yates roared off after Rayna. "Get to HQ!" he yelled to Benton.

The red and white candycane striped pole descended. Rayna accelerated, shooting past it as it fell. Yates clawed at the wheel, swerving around the barrier and onto the main street.

"Glad I took that elective in driving primitive vehicles," thought Rayna as she headed out for the M-31. Despite her class, she had only had experience driving modern makes of cars in her visits to the Earth in the 1990s. Nevertheless "Bessie" did have agile steering and a good turn of speed. It was unusual to be driving on the opposite side of the street, though. Just keeping control of the amble car proved quite a challenge.

"Trap 1 to Trap 2," spoke Yates into his radio. "Report, Scientific Advisor's car stolen. Tell the Brigadier I'm in pursuit."

Trees blurred by on the motorway as sprightly "Bessie" whirred down it. Little by little, Rayna was getting the hang of driving the little roadster. "Bessie" was a delight to operate, but she was in a hurry. Something told her to head for the quarry; all events would converge there at the secret subterranean base. An experiment, the last one, could spell geologic disaster to England, not to mention rending part of the space-time continuum. She was certain she would find the Doctor there.

Several miles behind her, Yates shifted into 4th gear. He spotted "Bessie" as a small bright yellow glimmer many cars ahead Foot pressing the gas, he switched lanes to pass the car. He hoped to soon close the gap. A number of motorcycles sped past him in the fast lane. "Lot of motorcyclists out today," he murmured. "Wonder where they're off to?"

Rayna got the feeing that she was being followed. She put more power into the engine, placing sufficient distance between herself and Yates driving the UNIT jeep. In her rear-view mirror, she sighted the troupe of motorcyclists slowly encroaching.

Yates sped off the motorway at the next town. His jeep vanished behind the trees lining the back road that ran parallel to the motorway. Something about the motorcyclists seemed odd. Several imported Harley-Davidsons mingled with British bikes comprised the group; all keeping up well with "Bessie". Most

alarming was the sight of a familiar red Porsche bearing down. Thinking fast, Rayna too exited the motorway. Several cyclists split off from the main pack and stuck to her tail like glue, yet they conveniently shielded her from the Porsche. Behind her `smoke screen', Rayna doubled back.

Sunlight flashed off Cynthia Powell's black sunglasses. As the cycles slid between her and the Edwardian auto, she bit her lower lip. Powell recognized this car as the one that challenged her several days ago. She spotted Vitreum in the drivers seat this time. "Hmm, the girl," she mused, briefly recalling her interrogation of Rayna Vitreum in the base. "Very gutsy girl. I do like her. It's a shame." However, her attention was diverted at the sight of the jeep's UNIT logo. "Powell to Cuckoo's nest... have spotted UNIT vehicle heading in your direction."

"Standby to initiate defensive maneuvers. You know what to do." Cynthia's scarlet lips drew up into a slight smile. Shifting into fourth, she edged up behind Captain Yates.

Peering into his rear view mirror, Yates spied the red Porsche tailgating him. Nervously he pulled ahead. Suddenly the car swerved in front of him, only inches from cutting him off. Impatiently, Yates honked his horn. "Sunday driver," he muttered, dropping behind the Porsche. Moments later, he sped headlong into a grease slick studded with glittering particles of glass. Yates countersteered bravely to avoid it, but was too late. Two bangs indicated that his front two tires had blown out. Breaks screeching, he spun out of control.

"Mission accomplished," reported Cynthia Powell with pride. Her red lips parted, exposing her pearly white teeth in a delighted grin. "I love a good crash. Takes me back."

Meanwhile, Rayna had shaken the motorcyclists by doubling back to the main road. In one side view mirror, she spied a billowing column of smoke. A flashing light on her fascia board warned her of an upcoming danger. She just managed to avoid the grease slick coating the right lane of the road. Swinging quickly she pushed down on the brake. Only yards away sat a UNIT jeep, its hood open and smoking, on the shoulder. Captain Yates stood sheepishly beside it. Pulling "Bessie" alongside, Rayna exclaimed, "Good grief! What happened to you?"

"Ran into a maniacal sports car. Drove me clear off the road." Then looking suspiciously at her he asked, "And what are you doing out of bed, Rayna, in the Scientific Advisor's car?"

"Hey, you were following me, weren't you!" retorted Rayna accusingly.

"You stole UNIT property... that amounts to the Doctor's car there. Do you know what you're getting into?"

"The Doctor needs help! Anyway, I'm a scientist. There are always odds and risks to face. I know perfectly well what I'm doing."

"You're still under UNIT custody. You must surrender now, and come back to Headquarters now. Leave this to UNIT!"

"I'm going to that quarry Captain," said Rayna impassively, staring him straight in the eyes. "Whether you or your organization like it or not!"

"Miss Vitreum, I've tried reasoning with you," sighed Yates. Slowly he drew his service revolver from the leather gun holster on his belt. Its muzzle aimed at her chest.

"Oh for Pete's sake! Will you put that stupid primitive weapon away?" she cried. "We're wasting precious time sitting here arguing like children. Are you going to shoot me because I'm not crying out to you for help?"

Yates had to admit Rayna was brave, even though he thought she was very stubborn. Something in her manner convinced him of her claim. This was no time for formalities. Shakily, he replaced his gun. "Alright, Rayna," he resolved. "But I'll have a deuce of a time trying to explain this to the Brigadier."

"Thanks Mike," smiled Rayna with relief.

"Wait a minute," Yates interrupted. "You're still in UNIT custody."

Leaping into "Bessie", Rayna fired up the engine. "Well, are you coming?" she asked. Grinning, Yates leapt into the back passenger's seat. "Hang on, Captain!" she called as they drove away.

Within a quarter hour, "Bessie" pulled into the quarry turnoff. Warily, Captain Yates glanced around. His army instincts activated; sharpened for the least possible sign of danger. Vitreum cut the engine and rolled to a stop before setting the emergency brake. "That was fun," she smiled, hopping out of the little car with glee. "Now I know why the Doc likes driving her."

"Better stick close to me, Rayna," he urged. "Don't know what blighters may be lurking about."

"Whatever you say, sir," she responded, shouldering her knapsack. "I just want to check my instruments I set here a few days ago..."

"Is that all you wanted to come out here for?"

Reaching in her coat pocket she drew out a small rectangular box resembling a walkie-talkie. Pointing to the LCD screen in where the speaker would be, she showed it to Yates. "If there's an earthquake coming, I'll be monitoring the seismographs on this thing."

"Couldn't you mistake a large truck or a low flying jet for an earthquake?"

"Earthquakes have their own characteristic wave form... that distinguishes them from any other vibrations. Look here at this portable scanner," answered Rayna.

"I fail to see the importance of this," muttered Yates. "What have earthquakes got to do with your rushing off... and the recent attack on UNIT HQ?"

"Earthquakes may have everything to do with that attack... and with the attempts on the Doctor's life!"

The UNIT captain saw Vitreum's eyes widen as she stared at her little black box. "What's wrong?"

"Uh oh," muttered Vitreum, glancing at her indicator. "I was afraid of this. "The crust is moving again."

There was a crackle of gunfire in their direction. "Get down!" he ordered, dragging her behind "Bessie". Quickly he drew his service revolver and fired back.

"Oh no, not more violence," she groaned. "If the Doctor sees any damage on this, he'll kill me!" Captain Yates fired left and right. He incapacitated several, being quite a good shot. "Behind you!" cried Rayna, pointing to a rifle barrel positioned at them. Bullets whizzed over their scalps, only centimeters from touching their hair. Rayna stared at the multiple sprays of encroaching projectiles. To Yates' astonishment, they flew back as if deflected by an invisible shield. "I did it!" she laughed in exhilaration.

Grabbing her hand, Yates pulled her after him. "This way," he ordered. "Keep close." Yates fought bravely, shooting at many of the advancing patrollers, but there came a time when they were surrounded. Valiantly, Mike shielded Rayna from the dozens of rifles aimed at them. Despairingly, Rayna stared right at a slender female dressed in trendy clothes. The same woman who'd ousted the Doctor on the road, and nearly won. And the same one who was the security chief. "Powell!" she exclaimed.

"Well, well, what have we here," asked Powell, scrutinizing Rayna. Disdainfully she smirked over the coat and scarf ensemble, and heavy hiking boots. "Not exactly the most stylish fashion, now? I gather the assistant comes to the scene of her master's dissapearance."

"I am a geologist, thank you very much, not someone's call girl!" snapped Vitreum.

"Well, at least you aren't a female who lets herself be walked upon by male chauvenists," said Powell, with a slight smile. "If you weren't such a bug in my jam I'd sign you on."

"Tight clothing does constrict the circulation," breathed Yates, gawking at Powell's flashy thin blouse and close fitting pants.

"You see what I mean, Miss Vitreum," sighed Cynthia in disgust. "Some of us choose not to hide what we have," she replied.

"Who are you miss, and why don't you point that gun the other way?" asked Mike, covering Powell with his revolver.

All of a sudden, there was a sound like a chain saw, and many of the men and women toting guns whirled about. A bevy of motorcycles roared down the steep side of the quarry, dispersing the attack squad. Security squads shot in vain at the blurs of gleaming chrome and leather. The lead cyclist shot out a long leg as he whirred past Powell, disarming her. Stunned, she collapsed. Grabbing Yates' hand, Vitreum drug him into "Bessie". Swinging around for a second pass, the lead cyclist cut right between Yates and Vitreum and their pursuers. "Bessie" fired into life, and they tore across the quarry floor. Powell scrambled to her feet. One of the cyclers had fallen from his vehicle. Quickly she mounted the bike and roared after "Bessie".

"It's just over that way," Rayna guessed, pointing to the far wall of the quarry. "There's a another cave entrance to their hangout."

"You mean going right into those caves?" asked Yates in shock.

"They may have a two way radio you could `borrow' to contact UNIT," suggested Rayna, pulling up behind a crest of earth only a quarter of a mile from the cave entrances. She flung some equipment into her knapsack and leapt from the driver's seat. "You asked me earlier what the earthquakes had to do with anything. You see... this quarry is in a very important location... right on top of a geologic hot spot." Rapidly she stripped off her coat, revealing her blue spelunking coveralls.

"But what were those magnetic disturbances then?"

"This quarry is also aligned with one of the Earth's magnetic field lines. The earth's like a dynamo... it's molten core churns to make the magnetic field... and this hot spot is making a bit of a magnetic field of its own. That's what caused the crazy deviations..."

"I don't get it..."

"There was a set of active volcanos here several million years ago... and the veins of lava still exist deep within the Earth's crust. They sort of transfer the magnetic flux like electricity along a wire. The limestone caves were made much later."

"What are you getting at?"

"I mean... that this all is related... The crazy magnetic lava... and the disturbances... and the earthquakes! There's a big upset in time... and matter! I mean... the rocks are turning into chronal energy... and the magnetic deviations are just the signature of the metamorphoses rocks," she babbled excitedly. "But those Engletech people don't realize that the rocks are a result of their time experiments disrupting the Earth's magnetic flow... and the Geologic time scale."

"Very interesting lecture, Ms. Wizard..." quipped a voice. "Turn around very slowly... with your hands up."

Yates and Vitreum turned to discover Powell once more... with a small detachment of the guards. Beside her stood Weissman, and Jung.

"You are right about those rocks, Miss," complimented Weissman.

"That's what makes your generator run, isn't it," guessed Rayna.

"Absolutely. A paramagnetic lava... perpetually aligned wif the Earth's field. Always changes it's pole alignment."

"The lava isn't going to be around forever... it was just a little unexpected accident that happened to work. This quarry is just a warning sign of things to come..." sighed Rayna. "Please, sir... you must get them to stop those time experiments... before Nature retaliates... in a significant way!"

"I'm sorry... but you're wrong," cut in Jung. "You said yourself we were on a fault line. Earthquakes are natural. Just little tremors. A freak accident. Ask your friend Dr. Moore."

"Things in nature are seldom just a freak accident." said Rayna. "A seismologist like Dr. Moore knows that especially."

"Enough of this..." broke in Cynthia Powell. "Yates, you have interfered for the last time!" Yet, they were not alone in the quarry. Engine spewing exhaust, the lead motorcyclist suddenly burst over the rise... sailing nearly twenty feet into the air. Jung stared skyward in amazement, as the figure launched itself from the flying cycle. The sky eclipsed when the plummeting figure came crashing down on top of him. Vitreum sprang at Powell, 60 yarneks slamming into Powell's slender 40 yarnek frame. She went down, wrapped tightly in Rayna's scarf.

Three fellows rushed the new figure. With some quick exotic moves, the lead motorcyclist disarmed all the security team people. One after the other, they all went flying like driftwood. The unlikely trio rapidly made short work of all their attackers, until all lay spread unconscious on the ground.

Mike recovered his revolver from the nearest person's grasp. Powell writhed in Rayna's scarf, only to stare down Yate's gun bore. "Give it up, or she buys it!" he warned as Jung covered him with an automatic.

"There are others here... to stop you!" retorted Jung.

"I would take his advice, if I were you," spoke the motorcyclist. Jung dropped the weapon, and Rayna wrapped him in a length of her nylon rope, being sure to gag him with her bandanna. Weissman had raced off in fear. Who is this guy, Mike wanted to know. Reaching up the lead cycler pulled off his red helmet, revealing a head of wavy white hair and a triumphant grin. The wide collar of a frilly shirt folded out when he unzipped his leather riding jacket partway. "Doctor!" exclaimed Rayna, trotting to his side. "I never knew you could motorcycle!" She stared in wonder at his leather jacket and high boots. Quite the cycler he was.

"Great job Doc!" complimented Mike Yates. "I thought you were poisoned!"

"Heh, mere curarie doesn't keep a good man down," sniffed the Doctor, setting down his helmet.

"How'd you get the help of those riffraff?" Mike asked.

"Oh, the cyclists?" asked the Doctor. "Rather decent chaps. In for a clean environment. They've been against the quarry for the past two years now. Lively group of youngsters they are." On the back of his jacket was airbrushed the words "Green Dragons", with a planet Earth encircled by a sinewy fierce dragon.

"I didn't think you'd go so far as to join a gang!" groaned Yates. "But where do we go from here?"

"They'll distract the guards long enough for me to get a better look at the generator... and the Time Machine. But it's a small matter of getting down there. Fancy a bit more potholing, Rayna?"

"Doctor, I can't let you go down there on a wild goose chase!" protested Yates. "Besides, it involves trespassing on private propertyy!"

"Engletech has been trespassing on Mother Nature," pointed out Rayna.

"There's hardly time to waste, you two. I've got to get a better look at that Time Manipulator that those fools have unwittingly stumbled upon." So saying, he strapped on his helmet once more.

"I suggest we try a natural approach to level Two," said Rayna, pulling out a map given her by Moore long ago.

Tensely, Rajiv Padyesh placed the samples of paramagnetic lava into the generator, as he had several times before. Just where did these come from? Prime specimens they were. Last week it seemed the quarry supply had nearly exhausted itself.

"Is all in readiness for the Test?"

Weissman stood behind the control panel of his generator. A large wall of perspex separated his generator from the Time Experimentor. Thick cables ran through the transparent wall to connect the two machines together. Affectionately, his hands caressed the two dipole invertor knobs and tapped the readout gauges. "At last you will live," he whispered. "Perpetual motion, and perpetual energy."

In the huge cavern, the almost telescopic shape of the Time experimenter rose, nearly touching the highest stalactites. Unlike most of the tunnels, this cave was a natural wonder. Veins of basaltic lava streaked with phosphor striated the walls. If all the lights were to be extinguished, the eerie green glow of the natural phosphor would be enough to work by.

Now wearing thick gloves, the silky-voiced physicist pulled down his goggles. Ethridge stood near a set of folding chairs, especially set up for all the Engletech scientists and technicians to witness the greatest event ever. Technicians swarmed about the giant generator and the Time Experimenter, making all the necessary last minute adjustments. A podium had been set up, for speeches to be made. Voices carried easily in the subterranean vault, the natural acoustics nearly equalling St. Paul's cathedral in size and reverberation.

"Poor fellow, Saunders," murmured Rajiv to one technician as they descended the stairs from the office level One to level two, where the Assembly room was.

"What happened to him?" asked the white smocked woman.

"Mysteriously vanished... right in the middle of that last test run, about a day ago."

"You will all make the necessary speeches to our people," instructed the physicist, fixing his tie. He approached the podium with cool calmness. Weissman felt his own sweaty palms. All the press reporters that suddenly came pouring in then, swarming about the cavern. Their camera flashes shone like lightning, and their dull roar of conversation flooded the place in a sea of cacophony.

"How much further, Rayna?" whispered Mike. The trio had halted as Rayna unfolded a map. The Doctor held the lantern now, beaming it helpfully over her shoulder.

"That way, I think. All we have to do is follow those sounds of people's voices," she suggested.

"If only I had a polyvox unit," muttered Mike Yates.

"I'm sure that Engletech may have one, if you ask politely," said the Doctor.

"Ssh!" hissed Vitreum. "I think they're going to start soon! Follow me, and listen!"

As they followed the geologist, Yates and the Doctor discerned the beginnings of a long speech. Silkily it drifted to them in the dark cave. "As you well know, the structure of Time is something that has eluded Science for many years," spoke the physicist. The empty voice quickly vanished as suddenly as it appeared.

Slowly the Doctor slipped into the cover of a stalagmite. Ahead of him was a closed door marked "Communications". Painted neatly on the wall beside the door were the words: Level Two Audiovisual backups. Labs this way. Beckoning to Mike, he nodded towards who happened to be chatting outside the door. Accordingly Yates understood the message intimated in his widening eyes and raised eyebrows.

Ah, a diversion's in order, thought Rayna. Casually she strode into plain view. "Hi there, folks," she smiled. "Big day today, huh?"

"What are you doing here?" one of them asked, puzzled to see a person in full spelunking gear suddenly stepping out of nowhere.

"Have you got a pass to be here?"

Vitreum patted all her pockets. "Nope, sorry. Say, is that really radio equipment you've got in there?"

"Do you honestly think I'm going to tell you that if you don't have a pass? Must think I was born yesterday!" laughed the other technician.

"Where'd you come from, girlie?" tried the other.

"Who knows. I might have popped out of the past... or the future. Is that what happened to a few of your technicians?" At her words, the two technicians stared straight at her. She spotted Yates behind the technicians, slipping into the room.

"Who told you about that? He just got lost in the tunnels."

"Strange things happen in caves, in the Earth's skin," lectured Rayna. "When you think about it, mankind has only just scratched the surface of this planet. Literally."

"What are you?"

"A geologist. I've seen things getting off to a rather shaky start. That's what you get, playing around with time. Watch it, or things may come crashing to a halt."

Nervously one technician regarded the other. "Excuse me ma'am, but you're not supposed to be back here," interrupted the first fellow impatiently.

"Do you think we were born yesterday? Either get a pass or get lost!" snapped the other, having heard quite enough out of Rayna. He was about to grab her when there was a shout of "HAI!" from behind. Long fingers seized their necks, forcefully squeezing their carotid arteries in their necks till they fainted.

"Yes, you were born yesterday, compared to a Time Lord," said Rayna, as she stepped over their fallen bodies. "Sorry about that."

Rayna followed the Doctor into the Communications room. Carefully she shut the door behind her. With a set of headphones over his ears, Yates hunched over a two-way radio console. "Trap One, this is Greyhound, do you read me! Greyhound to Trap One... over!" he grated into the microphone. Rayna winced at the sudden loud burst of static that answered him.

"No luck?" asked the Doctor, hiding a smile.

"Just have to get the right frequency," muttered Yates, staring up at the Doctor. "This isn't regulation UNIT hardware, you know."

"Keep trying," urged Rayna. "You can do it." She noticed several banks of television monitors lining the walls. Another console, resembling a sound mixing board sat before them. It reminded Rayna of a television studio. On two of the monitors she saw the figure of a researcher gesturing madly behind a podium. Interested, she flipped a knob marked, "LINE 4."

"Within just a half hour, you, ladies and gentlemen, will be among the first to sample a wonder of the Universe," he spoke. Hearts skipping, Rayna recognized the voice... it was the silky one she'd heard in the cave!

"Doctor, come over here and look at this," she called. The fellow Time Lord joined her at the console.

"Well, well," muttered the Scientific Advisor. "He must be the leader of this entire thing."

Rayna noticed another screen which displayed a shot of the audience. "Look at all those cameras. Must have at least a dozen papers and news teams here," she told him. His excellent charisma locked all the reporters into grim silence. Still, a few reporters babbled in a low hubbub as they regarded the scene. Bearded Professor Weissman stood ready behind a control console, visible on another screen.

As Rayna listened to the speech, the Doctor fiddled with some of the switches on the control board. On the opposite wall was a huge plan of the main base. Red numbers flashed on in specific positions on the map, depending on which switches he depressed. "Hey, Doc," protested Rayna. "Turn that screen back on!" Embarrassedly the Doctor realized he'd come close to deactivating the main screen. Before long, the Doctor figured that these numbers corresponded to the specific TV monitoring cameras positioned throughout the research base.

Weissman was on the hind side of the generator, calculated the Doctor. He remembered the plans the fellow had shown him a day or so ago. A few yards from him stood an Indian scientist, at the analogue control board for the Time Experimenter. By virtue of another monitor, his dark slender featured face was also visible to the horde of guests.

"Engletech will astound you with a twofold discovery. A perpetual source of energy... and a method to manipulate Time itself! You may ask the practicality of this discovery... but I

list the applications for you!"

"What sort of applications?" asked a well suited fellow.

"Wait!" said the Doctor to Rayna. "Good grief, that's cabinet Minister Ethrige."

"A government type?"

"Precisely."

"Doctor! He was that friendly guy in the Porsche the other day!" she realized. "And that guy on the radio!"

"Good question, my dear sir," smiled the physicist, in glorious monochrome. "Have you ever wondered why mankind must grow old? I can answer that... find the secret of eternal youth!"

"Weissman is behind the generator," explained the Doctor, turning to Rayna once more. "I know exactly where. Look at that screen to your left. Number five. That's the Time Experimenter's control board."

"Are you sure?"

"It must be. What else could it be?" he muttered, picking up a pen and pencil. Rapidly his hands flew across the paper as he scribbled calculations. Occasionally he'd ask her for figures, odd bits of information. "Let's see, the equation for Magnetic distortion is..."

"It has already been proven that our device can influence geologic processes. Think how long it takes Mother Nature to forge diamonds deep in the furnace of her innards..."

With disgust, Rayna saw him hold up a huge raw chunk of what appeared to be diamond. "Graphite, this dull lackluster lubricant... its hexagonal planar structure transformed into the brilliant rarity of crystal fire."

The next bit of speech caught their ears. "Or what the Earth was like several million years ago? Well, man could traverse time to the Mesozoic Era itself and find out. Or better yet... he could bring a piece of the past to the Twentieth Century!"

"Good grief," breathed the Doctor. Rayna's brown eyes looked up at his, her mouth firmly pressed shut. "They're closer than I thought!"

"Doctor, I'm having problems getting through," called Yates from the radio unit.

"Excuse me a moment," whispered the Doctor into Rayna's ear. He strode over to Yates, smiling reassuringly at Rayna. "Take a look at those calculations for me."

"Just when I think I've got it... the signal slips out of range again," explained the Captain.

"Try 1500 Hertz, Mike," suggested the Doctor. He drifted towards the doorway. "I'm going to take a little stroll. You two stay here for a bit."

"Where are you going?" asked Yates.

"To see a man about a machine," came the reply, accompanied by a rustle of cloth and the thump of a leather jacket. "It shall take about forty five minutes to accomplish the task."

Vitreum saw him mouth the words, "Take care of Rayna..." She shivered, knowing that he was very worried indeed.

"Professor! Come here a moment!" whispered a voice. The Professor frowned. Was it Padyesh?

The Indian fellow was nowhere near the Time Experimenter at the time. He'd ascended the podium to make his own speech, as a colleague of the physicist through Engletech. Dozens of eyes now fixed on him. "Thank Brahma my technician can cover for me," he hoped. "Ladies and gentlemen, it is a pleasure to see you all so interested in this project."

But was his technician quite so tall? And white haired? Discretely Padyesh had switched off the monitor surveying his post. Wearing a borrowed Engletech smock, the Doctor slipped up behind the machine. He'd absorbed the device's design by now, and rapidly he scribbled calculations in his notes. A brisk glance at a set of the plans committed the diagram to memory. "Hmm, rather crude, but quite good. Top of the class for that physicist," he muttered in admiration. How odd a race these humans seemed. Always on the threshold of near extinction, yet somehow they survived another day, crawling off the brink. Softly as he could, he pried off a panel on the side of the machine, where he guessed the main process unit would be.

Even now he heard the physicist rattling on. "Time is in our grasp," he said. "That most elusive thing... that has controlled Man for centuries. Now, we shall use Time as an ally, to improve the quality of life. Reversal of cancer... think of it... all you physicians."

Sitting down on the floor, the Doctor endeavored to make himself comfortable. Looking over the tangle of microcircuits and transistors, he shook his head. "Oh, for a set of microchips, even," he sighed. In the light of his gas lantern he set to work.

"I've got to help him! He forgot to take plate tectonics into consideration!" groaned Vitreum all of a sudden, tossing down the calculations.

"No chance Vitreum. The Doc told me to take care of you, and I follow orders."

"He's not the Brigadier," pointed out Rayna. She was desperate. Checking her digital watch the small colon blipped with each passing second. Already faint tremors vibrated the cave wall. "Michael, do you find me attractive?"

"Extremely so..."

"Why? I'm not pretty, and I don't have what you'd call a `smashing' figure."

"You're different... and have a fire I don't see in most girls."

"Which you men love to subjugate..."

Vitreum fixed his eyes in her dark brown ones. He noted how they shimmered behind her glasses. Accordingly she drew off the transparent discs so he could get a better look. Entranced, he lowered his gun... then firmly took her shoulders and angled her chin till it was level with his own mouth. Before his whole mouth covered hers with an encroachment of saliva, an odd sensation befell him... a sort of dizziness. "Go to sleep now, Captain," Vitreum's soft voice coaxed.

She helped him into the radio chair, whispering, "Hide for a few minutes, after you wake up. See what happens. If all fails, protect the Doctor... remember... protect the Doctor!" With a dreamy sheepish grin on his placid face, the young Captain slumbered in the Communications Room.

"All ready, sir!"

"Stoke her up!" The generator hummed quickly into life. In the shadows, Vitreum stared at her compass. Its little needle spun wildly. She pressed her helmet more firmly on her head. The crowd hushed. Her watch stopped... then continued.

A cry rang out, hollow and clear. "Where's the power?"

"I'm giving her al I haf!" shouted Weissman over the radio. Padyesh leapt to attention, running around the machine. To his amazement he spotted a strange fellow, wearing a frilly white ruffled shirt sitting calmly on the floor. Several side access panels were removed, and this silver-haired chap was rapidly ripping out wires and circuits... as casually as anyone would brew a cup of tea!

Fuming, the physicist rounded the corner of his machine. He recognized the white haired man... almost a year ago it was. Project Inferno, of which the physicist had played a minor role as a mere technician himself. Personally, the physicist had held no great love for Stahlmann either, and delighted in this dandy's opposition of the pompous fellow. Now here was the same chap again, interfering in his project. With interest he confronted the man. What was his name, exactly. Smith? Jones? Or did he have any sort of name at all?

"So, its you, UNIT's Scientific Advisor,"

Looking up briefly the Doctor gave a slight smile. "Are you the chap in charge here?"

"Indeed I am."

"Allow me to congratulate you on a job well done. So close to Time travel, you are, dear fellow."

In spite of himself, the physicist beamed with pride. "So it meets with your approval."

"Not quite. There are some... well... technical hitches you've met with. Rather careless."

"Repair the machine, Doctor," retorted the physicist, the smile vanishing from his face.

"You don't know what you're playing with here! The fabric of time is a tricky thing." The Doctor knelt beside the inner workings of the dynamo/time distorter. He clutched the slender silver rod of his sonic screwdriver, readily severing connections between the bundles of wires and transistors. His leather jacket disguise hung casually over one lever of the machine.

"I have heard that you yourself are quite an expert in time travel, Doctor. Share this knowledge with me. How can I improve this machine?"

"You must wait for the future to reveal that," came his habitual answer. Routinely he unbuttoned one cuff, rolling up his left sleeve.

"It seems you are not of this world, Doctor," observed the physicist. "In fact I'd say you weren't even human.

"I don't know what you are referring to, man," the Doctor replied mildly, still fiddling with the wires.

"That look in your eyes as you speak. I've seen that look in the visage of one who is omnipotent... and reflective. You don't have the human blindness, that dull glaze most members of my species have, that fogs our perceptions."

"Man is not yet ready to claim the responsibility to your discovery. Time is not your friend sir, in fact it is your enemy." He replaced one of the panels, and stepped over to the Time generator.

"And neither is she... your friend."

"What?" A sickening nausea rose in his stomach as he saw two lab technicians dragging Rayna between them.

"I tell you this will be a terrible eruption! You're breeding a volcano under wraps!" grunted Rayna, struggling against them.

"Hello Rayna," said the Doctor, trying to remain calm. "Fancy meeting you here."

"I'm sorry, but I was concerned about you," she said. "Just had to remind you to figure for the plate tectonic equation. They don't believe you about the danger, do they?" Sadly the Doctor shook his head.

"You've got to destroy that thing," said the geologist. Scribbling on a small note pad, the Doctor began to reposition some of the circuits. Test leads ran into small socketed holes. The whole circuit board resembled an analogue synthesizer, the Doctor accordingly plugging in new wires to correspond to his new equations. He rolled up his right sleeve now, revealing a crazy dragon tatoo on his forearm. Funny to discover such a mundane arm adornment on him now.

"I wonder what differences there are in anatomy," leered Jung, drawing up from the physicist's left flank. He strode up to Vitreum. Two men yanked off her helmet at his order.

"What are you doing?" demanded the physicist, until he saw the look in the fellow's eyes and understood.

"Interesting to find out, eh? Is her skin all the same color as ours?" he sneered, snapping off some of the buttons on her coverall. He pulled aside the neck, and even the collar of Vitreum's T-shirt to expose one shoulder. "Skin's a bit paler here, but same tone as her face.

"Don't stop Doctor!" urged Vitreum. "Listen to me, all of you, this all isn't worth it!"

"Get back from the machine now, or your friend gets to be the subject of my next experiment," threatened the exuberant Jung.

"I won't divulge the secret," the Doctor resolutely assured Rayna. "I'm sorry, Rayna."

"Is her blood red like human blood?" asked Jung, popping out a stiletto. Quickly he'd tired of his anti-modesty game. He held it close to Vitreum's bare neck. Very slightly he drew the tip across so a line of superficial blood dripped. Bravely Rayna steeled herself against the pain, biting her lip.

"No... I will not!" thundered the Doctor.

"You say you have two hearts, Doctor. Does your little friend here as well?" His knife aimed close at her tanned chest. "Amazing how our science can find out with the turn of a knife."

"That's not necessary," interrupted Weissman, who'd just joined them. "Leave the girl be."

"Wait a minute!" cautioned the Doctor. His hand held the sonic screwdriver, poised inches from making the last few connections that would render the machine completely inoperative... and reverse the geologic disaster.

"No Doctor! Don't worry about me! Think of the future... and the structure of time!" Neck forced back, she squinted through half shut eyes behind her glasses.

"There can be... an agreement here."

"Oh?" asked the physicist to Jung's side.

"If you alter the machine... and use it only in times of great need..."

"They won't do it, Doctor," cried Rayna. "I know these humans!"

"Jung here will follow through, being a biology enthusiast," said the physicist. "And Rajiv will as well. With a few strokes they can pare away at her workings... shall I say." Slowly the Doctor reconnected the wires, anguish on his face. He couldn't let Rayna Vitreum be killed in a macabre experiment... even though he'd only known her for a short time... she meant a lot to him now. And he valued the sanctity of life. Perhaps there was another way.

"Please Doctor," pleaded Vitreum silently, feeling defeat rear its awful truth. "Don't give up!"

Yates burst in horror from the control room. Feverishly he'd watched the whole charade on camera. His feet pounded down the hall to the main chamber. "Let her go!" he shouted, aiming his gun and firing. One of the technicians let her go, blood dripping from his shoulder.

"Mike! Stay back!" cried Rayna as she saw him rush towards her. His fist crashed against the jawbone of the other technician in a sharp uppercut. As Jung's gleaming knife flashed down, Mike wrenched Rayna behind him while he fired once more.

The shot only grazed the man's shoulder. Seizing his chance, Weissman pushed his way to the dynamo console. Furiously he stabbed buttons.

"Stop man!" yelled the Doctor, jumping to his feet.

"I'm destroying this awful thing!" Smoke poured from the wires of the analogue board, where the Doctor stood.

"You imbecile! You've sent us to certain disaster!"

"What are you all on about?" asked Minister Ethridge, who'd been standing off to one side the whole time. A group of scientists and reporters swarmed to watch this spectacle.

"This whole place is going to be the sight of a geologic time paradox!" said the Doctor grimly, messing with the analogue board once more. "Unless I can cross rig a junction in a few places."

"Stop right there," snapped the silky voice physicist, whacking Weissman aside. The old fellow crashed senseless to the floor. "The experiment must progress... so time manipulation equation will be known to science!" In one hand he held an automatic, poised right at the Doctor's head. Gesturing to Mike Yates he barked. "You there! Drop that revolver."

Reluctantly Mike lay down his weapon. He still shielded Rayna with his body.

"Do none of you listen to what I say?" thundered the Doctor.

"This experiment should have never been done in the first place. Linking earth to time like this is madness!"

"What does he mean?" asked Rajiv to Jung.

"A big bang..." muttered Jung, nursing his grazed shoulder. The voice of Rajiv snapped him back to reality.

"He's right," said Rayna, stepping out from behind Yates. Things were still not solved. In one hand she brandished her remote seismograph monitor. "Okay all of you. Listen to a geologist for once. My seismometer clearly says that in ten minutes there will be a huge earthquake, which will bury your lab in molten lava as this fault line wakes up."

The physicist was attempting to recalibrates his controls, on the main console, while covering the Doctor with his automatic. Rajiv had started to reposition the analogue plug-ins, but when he discerned the urgency in Vitreum's face, he hesitated. "Fellow scientists. Padyesh! Jung! Don't you remember how many years we've worked together on this project? If you desert Engletech now, all your lives will be wasted, and your careers," urged the physicist, glancing rapidly at his team's blank faces.

"If we don't get out of here... there won't be much left to win a Nobel prize with," said Jung. Rayna's words strangely planted themselves in his mind. Strange, how he'd though to kill this girl only mere minutes before, and now he found himself believing her. "Sorry sir, but count me out of this craziness. Besides, what ever happened to Saunders? He disappeared last time?"

"He's right," said Padyesh. "Who might vanish next?"

"There is a way of plugging the time rip here. The up blast in geothermal energy should counter the dynamo, but there must be someone here to set it." Hurriedly she crouched by the machine's workings, glancing over all the microcircuits and wiring. "What you guys ended up doing was somehow linking the Earth's magnetic field... with the unstable hotspot... which created a fault to appear..."

"She could be right," mused Padyesh.

"Brilliant Rayna!" smiled the Doctor.

"Nobody leaves here alive... unless I complete the experiment," warned the physicist. Madness gleamed unearthly in his eyes as he aimed at Rayna, and the Doctor. Once again, the Doctor could do nothing, for fear of someone dying.

"You don't want to do this, do you?" Rayna Vitreum calmly regarded him, her own calm brown eyes gazing into his face. "Pull that trigger now... and there won't be an England for you to live in. At least not the one you'd love."

What he failed to see was Minister Ethridge suddenly creeping up behind him. The earth itself growled. Vitreum held up the piece of diamond. "Even this is not worth the risk. Graphite to diamonds. We're all carbon based. In a few million years someone may wear a chip of you in their ring." Bits of rock already started to fall from the ceiling. Technicians muttered in doubt, and panic rose.

Mike almost dove for the gun, but froze. "I'll shoot!" shouted the physicist madly, about to squeeze home the trigger. Whap! A smart leather briefcase crashed onto his head, propelling him into blackness. Ethridge straightened his tie accordingly.

"May I suggest everyone," he addressed the throng of Engletech people. "That we commence evacuation." Everyone listened, transfixed. In a controlled frenzy, the technicians followed him from the complex. "Make certain everybody gets evacuated."

Rajiv gently helped Weissman to his feet. Briefly the four researchers struggled to fix the machine's control panel. Several more seconds passed before Rajiv announced, "That should do it, Doctor. You can only control the machine from the analogue board, though."

"Get out of here, then," ordered the Doctor.

"What do you mean?" asked Rayna.

"Only one person needs to stay behind," he replied. A groggy Weissman needed no coaxing. Already he limped towards the exit after the throng. Seeing him, Rajiv aided the researcher, supporting him as best he could. He turned one last time to wave the Doctor goodbye, and wish him good luck. "Rayna..." began the Doctor, eyeing her.

"Are you planning on setting that thing alone?" asked Rayna.

"No human can risk being sucked from this continuum," said the Doctor, rapidly making last minute epsilon calculations. "If this works, and I'm not certain it will with this primitive equipment, the balance between Earth and Time should be

rectified."

"But you're part of the pattern now too! The Time Lords exiled you, remember!"

"That's a risk I must take."

Rayna stared at his calculations. "What if you forgot something here? Did you take specific geologic factors... like crustal movement into account? Magnetic flux lines?"

"It's all there! Now get out of here, you stubborn fool!"

When she refused to move, he glanced urgently about for Yates yelling, "Yates! Get her out of here, now!"

"Look, you misfigured the chronal magnetic displacement," said Rayna, pointing down at the notebook where the Doctor had scribbled. Frowning, the Time Lord bent to look. "Mike, get him out of here!" Rayna said suddenly, to the Doctor's surprise.

"Sorry about this, Doc," said Yates' voice from behind, whacking him across the back of the skull. The Doctor's tall form crumpled, and Mike carefully lowered it over his shoulder. "Good luck Rayna."

"I'll try," she assured him, positioning herself by the analogue board. Rapidly she scanned the calculations, and glanced at her wristwatch. "Sorry Doctor. You may have had thermodynamics, but this calls for a geologist."

Mike Yates drew her to himself and to her surprise pressed his lips against hers briefly in the most curious fashion. The single steady beat of his heart thudded against her chest. Pushing against him, she straightened out of the embrace. "A curious Earth custom," Vitreum commented, rubbing a hand over her mouth. "What's that one for?"

"In case I don't see you again," he admitted as earth shuddered all around them.

He spotted Ethridge. "Arrest these men at once. They have violated the safety of the British commonwealth, and the security of the United Nations," ordered the Minister.

"I protest this action in the name of pure research," shouted Jung. "Damn you sir, I was going to make you the best explosives!"

"There is going to be a big explosion here soon," chattered Rajiv frantically, supporting Weissman's limping frame.

"Major! Conduct these people to safety!" barked the Brigadier urgently. UNIT troops rapidly directed the Engletech people behind the shelter of a military barricade.

"Weissman!" he gasped, recognizing the scientist he'd fired only days before.

"The geologist... and your Scientific Advisor are still in there," he announced. The Brigadier cringed. A few tense moments passed before he saw Yates dragging the Doctor's figure from the mouth of the cavern. "What the blazes is going on in there?" he demanded.

"Better get the place evacuated. Everybody's running out."

The earth rumbled beneath their feet. "Already done, Captain. Excellent job."

"It was the Minister who convinced everyone to come out. But it was Rayna... that geologist... who made them all see reason, or else those sheep would have followed that dotty physicist to his death," recapped Yates, breathless with exertion from carrying the Doctor's tall body.

"Vhere is that geologist girl?" asked Weissman.

Seconds dragged by. She felt a drop of sweat roll down the front of her glasses. Her trembling fingers were nearly impossible to steady. Now, she called on her scant knowledge of planetary physics. Already the air hung stiff and hot around her, tinged with the rotten egg smell of hydrogen sulfide gas. Half in shivering exhilaration she persevered, twisting wire after thin slender wire together. Some would bend the wrong way... and one even broke in two. "Heavens, I don't know if I can make it," she sniffed, restraining the nausea boiling in her hollow stomach.

"What are the five dimensional variables represented in a twenty five by twenty five matrices array?" spoke a voice deep in her mind.

Rayna snapped to attention. "A means length, b means height, c for width, d for time, e for space displacement..."

Hands moved automatically over the analogue board, each wire plugged home to its proper hole. She was no longer just in that cave... her mind drifted back to the first physics class at the secondary school. The problems of gravity formulas... she had to prove them... but there was always just one thing she could not explain. Wormholes!

Earth roared and a blast of wind knocked the two men off their feet. Yates shoved the Doctor to the firm embankment. Already smoke rose from the cave mouth, and from the ridge itself in a slate grey cauliflower plume. A huge explosion sounded. Rocks cracked and flew for hundreds of yards to smash right into the sloped walls of the military dugout. It seemed as if the whole earth opened for a few minutes, and they gazed in wonder at cascading fountains of magma, luminescent with amber fire,

jetting to the height of a seven story building. Raining all over the quarry floor, it covered the place where the underground station had once stood, and the rest of the quarry for miles in front of them. Vast clouds of steam rose from the lava as it congealed at a fantastic rate.

As if the whole atmosphere opened for one moment, they all stared up into a void of temporary night. Sizzling stars and comets whirled dizzily in the deep blackness. Somehow they felt as if a whole column of midnight for miles now spanned betwixt Earth and Space. Slowly the night became framed by a closing ring of clouds. Silence rained as grass and trees sprouted over the vast expanse. To Yates, it was like watching an old movie, with the days and nights stroboscopically passing in nanoseconds. What normally took generations only now spanned the space of a few brief minutes. England had reclaimed her land from the scourge of man.

Yates took off his hat. Time slowed and blended to its proper amplitude once more. Deep silence fell thick as they stared at clear blue sky, calm and serine as if nothing had happened. "My God," gasped Dr. Moore, who'd just came up from the encampment. "It's a miracle!" Other scientists, like Weissman, Jung, and Padyesh just stared in silence like the technicians and UNIT troops. Dr. Moore stood numb at the though of Rayna in the heart of that upheval. "She believed my theory," Moore muttered. Tracts of grass now poked at their very feet. Face crumpling, the Doctor squeezed his eyes shut and turned his back.

A tear trickled down his face.

It had been a few days since the quarry mingled with Nature once more. Seismologist Dr. Moore marveled at the sudden appearance. Indeed, the quarry, or the entire southwest portion for several hundred acres all around, had been converted to arable land once more. Rolling grassland now followed the dips and hummocks of the once ugly quarry. Animals frequented the spot, full blast in gentle natural state. The small portion still left was abandoned.

Tours resumed at Cheddar Gorge and the small town of Stratford-Upon-Avon. Life returned to normal as possible in the English countryside. Even the popular sport of spelunking resumed in the caverns, to Dr. Moore's delight. A sympathetic Brigadier granted the Doctor a pass to explore the reopened park, thinking the holiday would do him good. After all, he had lost two assistants in the space of six months. He even decided to have a staff picnic that very Sunday.

Humming a tune from Madame Butterfly, the Doctor pulled "Bessie" into a parking spot near one of the park entrances. Birds sang cheerfully in the whispering trees. Light breezes breathed in his wavy white hair. He wore his black cloak, its violet silk lining shining in the intense light. The burgundy sleeves of his smoking jacket protruded, a striking contrast, but nonetheless elegant.

"Coming to the picnic, Doctor?" asked Lethbrige Stuart, clad in civilian clothes. He'd just stepped out of his own staff car, toting a small basket.

"Presently," said the Doctor, breathing in the fresh air. "I'd like to sample the climate a bit first myself, my dear feller."

"See you later then. Come along, Doris, my dear. I'll take the picnic hamper." With interest, the Doctor saw the attractive lady whom the Brigadier had just helped out of the car. Slender, with short dark hair she was, wearing a forest green dress too. Politely the Brigadier offered her his arm, which she took with a pleasant smile.

Taking leave, the Doctor stepped into the fresh grass. His black leather shoes made no noise on the soft springy lawn as he walked. Along the way he passed Mike Yates, also dressed in civilian clothes. To his amazement he noticed the fair haired fellow intently squatting over one spot on the lawn. With a hand trowel Yates laid aside the fresh green turf, exposing the brown soil underneath. A potted pansy sat at his left elbow, waiting patiently for Mike to gently press rich soil around its pot-bound roots. Quietly the Doctor left him and continued his stroll. Just absorbing the feel of Earth's nature gave him a calm sense of peace. If only Earth could be this placid more often, free of wars and pollution!

"Hallo, what's this?" he asked. A bright flash of something caught his sharp eyesight. Bending over, he picked up a shiny quartz crystal laying in the grass. The Doctor turned it over in his hands, breathing lightly on it and polishing with a fold of his cloak until it glittered intensely. "Quite a piece of silicon dioxide here," he murmured. "Too bad it's not a bit of crystal from Andromeda..." A sudden stab of pain shot through him. Crystals... geology. Rayna Vitreum. Jo Grant. Two people dear to him... just snuffed out quickly like the snap of his fingers. Absently he dropped the crystal into his pocket.

He turned away, then, spotted a cave entrance. Intrigued, he advanced. Some odd noise seemed to chime from within. Anger rose in him. It was curiosity in caves and rocks that caused this problem. If only he'd left the caves in Derbyshire alone, the Eocene would still be alive. Or Jo wouldn'tve raced off to the Cheddar Gorge cave to satisfy her own whim. Or Rayna would... What was that?

A shadow moved. His hearts raced up, one a bit faster than the other. His keen eyes spotted somebody stumbling from the cave... a long way off still. Rather short at this distance, and hobbling on one leg it seemed. Grimy it was too, wearing a miner's helmet and torn coveralls stained with blood and black smoke. His hearts leapt as it passed into the full daylight.

Momentarily the spelunker stumbled, and drew off the helmet. Long brown hair blew loosely and tangled in the light breeze. Sunlight hit her dark brown eyes, dazzling them beyond sight. "At last... daylight," she cried in pure ecstatic relief.

"Rayna!" shouted the Doctor in astonishment. Quickly he ran towards the figure. Cloak swirling around him he grasped her up and whirled her about. He hugged her breathless in his enthusiasms and joy that she was in fact alive. Her own arms wrapped around his neck as she found herself nearly flying two more feet off the ground, wrapped snugly in his bony arms. That unmistakable light glowed in his beaming smile... and a very dizzy Vitreum found her face dropping into his white hair, nuzzling his scalp. This was like bliss; reunion with the daylight, and her friend. "How in the Galaxy did you get out of the eruption?! I saw the wretched thing go up, and you were dead!"

"I wasn't there... at least I don't think I was. Am I dead, or just dreaming?"

"I hate to break up this rapturous reunion," interrupted the Brigadier all of a sudden from behind them. Dr. Moore and other UNIT staff had come running to see what all of the fuss was about.

"Ahem," coughed the Doctor uncomfortably, freezing before the assembly. "Look who's turned up," he said, setting Rayna carefully on her feet. Rayna looked at him and they burst into laughter. Still he kept one arm snug about her waist.

"We thought you dead, Miss Vitreum."

"At first I did too," replied Rayna. "I'd set the device as the Doctor had diagrammed. The time rip slid back into place, but I knew the earthquake would bring the house down. I woke up in the darkness and walked into a new cavern, a very natural one by the look of it. I tell you it was eerie... Luckily I had a compass and my head lamp... or I never would have found an exit. Incidentally, what day is it?"

"Sunday afternoon," answered the Brigadier.

"Omigosh!" realized Rayna. "Could have sworn it was a Friday."

"My dear Rayna, you just progressed three days and several miles ahead of us," explained the Doctor.

"Doctor! Those caves are a rudimentary time corridor. And I can control them... at least I could to escape disaster. Guess I have a lot to learn yet about Time travel."

"Quite, Miss Vitreum."

"Rayna Vitreum. Planetary Geologist and time traveler..." sampled Vitreum experimentally.

"Makes no difference to me," muttered the Doctor, squeezing her shoulder fondly. "I rather like the sound of Vitreum better," he complimented.

"Hey Doctor! If I can use those caves to time travel... maybe you'll be seeing Josie Grant again soon!"

"You've had quite enough potholing for this week!" scolded the Doctor, pretending to be stern. A rather bewildered Brigadier & company watched the duo: The Doctor offering her his arm, and a rather grubby Vitreum taking it. Quite casually they strode off among the trees, towards where `Bessie' sat parked. "Now let's see about getting my other assistant back... and the sooner the better!"

"Yes I think she will have had her fill of the 1990s!" Rayna laughed. "Can you make that TARDIS of yours get there?"

"Hmmph! I'll have you know the old girl has quite an instinct regarding..."

"Quite a remarkable girl, that Rayna Vitreum," reflected Moore, fingering a gold chain about the neck of her red flowered picnic dress.