Stoker forced herself to take another step closer. The Doctor was pointing to a series of irregular pockmarks in the paper-like skin on the Vegan's head.

'What are they?' Stoker asked thickly.

'Holes,' the Doctor said. 'Various sizes, some no more than pinp.r.i.c.ks and others the size of a small coin. These particular holes lead directly into the skull.' The Doctor looked up at her, and then added, 'Something penetrated flesh and bone to get to the blood within.'

Stoker pulled a face. It drank his blood?'

'Yes. All of it.'

'Can't we cover him up?' The yawning mouth was really starting to get to Stoker now.

'Of course,' said the Doctor. 'We'll get a blanket or something from upstairs.'

'I really didn't want any of this,' Stoker told him.

'I know.'

Stoker frowned. 'What's up?'

The Doctor was looking at Nyssa. She was sitting quietly, staring straight ahead - utterly motionless. It didn't look natural. 'Nyssa? Is there anything wrong?'

'It's hungry...' Nyssa said softly. 'It's hungry and it wants...

it wants...'

'What's up with her?' asked Stoker, alarmed.

'It's trying to make contact again,' said the Doctor quickly, excited now. 'Nyssa's sensitive to it.'

'To what?'

'To whatever it was that Vega Jaal could sense! Now that he's dead, it's using Nyssa instead...' The Doctor moved closer. 'What does it want, Nyssa?'

Nyssa's brown eyes had rolled up beneath the lids. All colour had drained from her face. Her head was tilted back slightly, her lips parted. 'It wants... us... it wants us all...'

The Doctor knelt down by her, leaning in close so that he could whisper into her ear, 'What is it, Nyssa?'

Nyssa's lips moved, but for a moment no sound emerged. 'It... it is dark...'

'What does she mean?' asked Stoker. 'It's too dark to see it?'

'Darkness,' Nyssa whispered. 'Darkness... it wants us! It's coming for us!' Then she slumped forward like a puppet with its strings cut, lifeless, boneless. The Doctor caught her awkwardly and lowered her to the floor.

'She's stopped breathing,' he said, feeling for the pulse in her throat. 'Cardiac arrest! Help me!'

Galvanised by the panic in the Doctor's voice, Stoker leapt forward. 'What should I do?'

'We've got to resuscitate her. I'll breathe for her, you try and get the heart started?

'What? How?'

The Doctor was already leaning down over Nyssa, tipping her head right back and opening her mouth. The fingers of one hand squeezed her nostrils shut and then, taking a deep breath, he clamped his mouth down over hers.

He blew into her lungs with sufficient force to inflate her ribcage slightly. He came up for another breath. 'Strike her hard on the sternum when I say,' he instructed Stoker. He bent down and breathed into her again. 'Now!'

Stoker slapped her hand flat onto Nyssa's chest.

'No, like this,' said the Doctor, and, using both hands and the full weight of his shoulders, pressed down with sudden force on her breastbone, directly over the heart. He repeated this twice and then returned to breathing for her.

Stoker copied the Doctor's actions when he signalled, frightened that she was going to break a rib or something, but too scared not to give it everything she had.

'Come on, Nyssa!' gasped the Doctor in between breaths. Nyssa's face was a terrible white colour, the skin around her lips already turning grey as the blood lost precious oxygen. The Doctor pinched the nose shut again and breathed into her mouth.

Stoker thumped on the chest. 'Come on, you silly b.i.t.c.h!

Breathe!'

The Doctor came up for air. There was stone-cold terror in his eyes as he watched Nyssa's lips turning from purple to blue. 'Cyanosis,' he said. 'We're losing her!'

Stoker heaved on the girl's chest again. This time she tried tried to break a rib, anything to kick-start the lump of meat inside into beating again. 'Come on, girl! You can do it! You can do it!' to break a rib, anything to kick-start the lump of meat inside into beating again. 'Come on, girl! You can do it! You can do it!'

'Keep going,' the Doctor ordered, feeling for a pulse again. His fingers trembled against the cold flesh of her neck.

'Come on, Nyssa. I'm not going to let you die. I refuse refuse to let you die!' to let you die!'

Stoker pounded once more and suddenly Nyssa convulsed. At first Stoker thought it was just a nervous reflex; maybe she had fractured something. But then Nyssa started to choke and gag until the Doctor rolled her onto her side and she vomited. She drew in a series of shuddering breaths and coughed up a bit more. Then the Doctor gathered her up in his arms and pulled her to him. She was looking pale, but her lips had turned pink again and her eyes were fluttering.

'Is she OK?' asked Stoker, exhausted.

The Doctor nodded and held Nyssa close. 'She's fine, she's fine,' he murmured. His blond hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat and his eyes had a hollow, scared look in them that Stoker didn't like. 'She's fine,' he said again. He didn't sound like he meant it.

Chapter Eight.

The next couple of hours were a blur for everyone. The Doctor took Nyssa back up into the main cavern and laid her down to rest on a stretcher. Tegan didn't seem to notice the empty, haunted look in the Doctor's eyes as he laid Nyssa down.

The men were sitting around playing cards and computer games; Stoker tore them off a strip and got them shifting some of the heavy-duty a.n.a.lyser machines into position. She was working on the principle that they might as well do the job properly while they were here. There was no doubt about the lexium, but with the big machines they could get an accurate a.s.sessment of exactly how much there was, where it was, and what kind of grade it might be. The men seemed happy to get back to work, or at least happy to be checking on the lex. Stoker just wanted them kept busy.

She found Bunny Cheung in the comms area. For one awful moment Stoker thought he had sent the mayday, but he just looked up at her and shrugged.

'Finished your sulk?' Stoker asked, lighting a cigar.

'I don't sulk. I brood manfully.'

'Finished brooding?'

'More or less. Tegan came up and talked at me for a while'

'So what gives?'

'I didn't send any mayday signal if that's what you mean,'

Bunny told her. He looked her in the eye. 'But I still think we should.'

'OK. So what's stopping you? Besides a flea in the ear from Tegan?'

'Another kick up the a.r.s.e from you?' Bunny suggested.

Stoker nodded thoughtfully. 'I won't give up on this place, Bunny. It's important.'

'I know. But so was Vega Jaal.'

'Point taken. So where do we go from here?'

Bunny leant forward in his chair. 'Let's wait and see what the Doctor comes up with. In the meantime we carry on as best we can. But if anything else happens, if we lose anyone else, then I'm quitting. Understand?'

'We won't lose anyone else,' Stoker promised. 'I'm having that place sealed up. Whatever's down there, whatever got Jaal, is staying down there. For good.'

'All right.' A little of the tension left Bunny's shoulders and he sat back. 'What's happening with Vega Jaal's body?'

'The Doctor says he should be buried; apparently that's the custom on Vega. Returned to the earth and all that.

Personally it gives me the creeps.

Bunny smiled faintly. 'I think Jaal would've appreciated that.'

She smiled back. 'Yeah. More than likely.'

'So what do you think?'

'I think if we leave him down there any longer, he's going to start smelling. Now that the power's back on, it's not so cold. The air con is warming the place up nicely. I say we get him up here, bury him, and then blow the door to that place to h.e.l.l and back.'

'Right,' Bunny said. 'I'll take care of it, if you like. Get a couple of men to help.'

'Thanks, Bunny, but I should do it. The others would expect it. At least,' she took a deep breath, 'they will when I tell them about it.'

Nyssa dreamed again. She dreamed that she was back in the TARDIS, where it was safe and warm and brightly lit. The Doctor was showing Tegan how to operate the scanner controls properly; neither of them was taking much notice of Nyssa. It was odd, but ever since Tegan had returned, the Doctor had shown less and less interest in Nyssa. There had been a time when he had taken pleasure in showing her how to operate the convoluted control systems. In fact, Nyssa had proved an attentive and eager pupil, and she had mastered several complex operations. She could read the star charts, or some of them, anyway, and plot a course. She knew how to enter particular spatial co-ordinates on the appropriate control panel.

But for the life of her, she couldn't remember how to work the scanner.

This was absurd, because it was one of the first and simplest things she had learnt. But now, even as the Doctor showed Tegan the relevant switches and dials, Nyssa could not recall the correct procedure. As Tegan learnt it, Nyssa forgot it.

It was intensely irritating. For the first time in a very long time, Nyssa felt like an outsider. An orphan, homeless and unloved. Forgotten about.

Now the Doctor even had his arm around Tegan. Nyssa shivered and turned away.

And saw the interior door open before her. Beyond it, rather than the usual bright corridor, was nothing but blackness. Standing in the doorway was a short, muscular figure with wiry, reddish hair and a sharp, pinched face. His eyes were like huge orbs of translucent amber, staring at her from the darkness. Nyssa found him strangely familiar, although she couldn't recognise him. He beckoned her to follow him, and then turned and disappeared.

Without a backward glance at the Doctor and Tegan, Nyssa followed.

The console room door closed softly behind her, sealing her in the absolute blackness beyond.

She knew with certainty that she was no longer in the TARDIS. She was floating in a void, weightless and sightless.

There was nothing to touch; no wind on her face or sounds to hear. There was no way to judge distance, or time. It was total sensory deprivation.

Only then did she feel the first ripple of panic, as the exact nature of her circ.u.mstances dropped like a cold pebble of fear into the centre of her mind.

She expected to wake up, then.

But she didn't.

'I'm not happy about this, Doctor.'

The Doctor sighed. 'Why doesn't that surprise me, Tegan?'

'If Nyssa's ill, I should be with her. Not wasting my time down here!'

The Doctor's first response was to cast a quick glance heavenward and plunge his hands into his trouser pockets.

Then he met her stare evenly and said, 'There is nothing you can do for her, I promise. She just needs some rest, that's all.'

'What if she has a nightmare or something? You know, another funny turn?'

'I very much doubt that,' the Doctor said. Tegan switched to her dubious, distrusting look and the Doctor finally capitulated. 'All right, all right: I don't know. There's every possibility she may have another psionic episode. But short of waking her up, and keeping her awake, I can't see any way of preventing that: 'Can't she be shielded in some way?' Tegan wanted to know. It didn't seem fair to leave Nyssa open to such abuse.