Frobisher went to the door and poked his beak out. This was actually quite refreshing now that he thought about it, just like his old days as a gumshoe back in Rassm City. Hopefully this would be even easier, since surely the latest office building was a more civilised environment than the alleys and bars of a decaying metropolis.

All the same, the penguin form was a bit too conspicuous.

Regretfully, he'd have to change it to something less noticeable. Straightening his shoulders, Frobisher flowed into the shape of Kapra, and stepped out into the corridor.

Chapter Twelve.

The Doctor and Kapra continued their tour around the rotunda. The Doctor frequently left Kapra in his wake as he marched off to examine this or that piece of equipment more closely. 'This is fascinating stuff,' he said absently. 'Who designed all this?'

'It was before I joined the staff. I understand the work was contracted out to an offworld combine. They certainly seem to have done a good job. It's never failed us yet.'

'Ah.' The Doctor put a companionable arm round Kapra's shoulder. 'And you wouldn't happen to know the name of this combine, would you? Professional interest, you understand.'

Kapra's long features took on a frown. Chronodyne Industries, I think. Their head office is on Dronid, I believe.'

The Doctor looked at him intently. 'Dronid? Are you quite sure of that?'

'Well, as I said it's before I joined the staff, but -'

'Supervisor Kapra report to the Director's office,' a tannoy voice demanded. 'Supervisor Kapra report to the Director's office.'

Kapra looked apologetically at the Doctor. 'I'm afraid I'll have to go. If you'll follow me, there's a refectory on the way. I can leave you there for some refreshments if you like.'

'A capital idea,' the Doctor agreed encouragingly, after a moment's thought. 'I've seen enough here to be sure that you know what you're doing.'

'Thank you, Professor,' Kapra said happily. Likewise, he had also seen enough of his visitor's expertise to know that he too was even more knowledgeable than his reputation suggested. Pausing only to collect the Doctor's coat, they returned to the more populated area of the facility. Kapra pointed to a set of doors. 'You can get something to eat in there.'

'Thank you very much,' the Doctor told him. 'It's been a most educational visit.'

Kapra nodded. 'For both of us. I'll be back in an hour.' He left. The Doctor made a show of heading for the refectory doors until Kapra was out of sight. Then he strode purposefully off in completely the opposite direction.

Any sort of electronic recording device would undoubtedly register on the asteroid's internal sensors, so Frobisher was glad that his memory was as good as it was. He was carefully memorising the location of every guard post, every lab, every storeroom...

'Supervisor!' He didn't realise the voice was calling him at first, until a guard's hand tapped his shoulder. 'Supervisor,'

the man said. 'You've been paged to report to the Director's office. Didn't you hear?'

'What? Oh, er, right. Thanks,' Frobisher said uncertainly.

The guard shook his head. Scientists...

Frobisher didn't mind; he was pretty certain that he'd got all the important data, so now he just had to return to the shuttle. As soon as he was in the lift that ran through the central axis of the asteroid, he shifted to the shape of the guard who had stopped him. Presumably it was less likely that the guard would be paged.

The Doctor had also been stopped a couple of times, but his forged documents of clearance allowed him to pass unhindered. He was quite proud of the work he had put into them.

There were a lot of things going on on this asteroid that could benefit the planet, but plenty more that should be stopped. Still, humans had a history of devising ingenious ways to harm themselves and he certainly couldn't stop them.

Right now he was most curious about the lab with the frosted windows. He wondered what was in there. Anything hidden was generally worth seeing, he had found.

Despite what Kapra had told him earlier, the door was locked. Whoever designed the lock wasn't very good at it, however, and the Doctor was able to force it with a laser probe.

Inside, glass dividing walls separated the main room into little airtight cubicles. From the equipment and the hermetic seals, the Doctor could see that this was some kind of pharmacology lab. It couldn't hold dangerous specimens, though, as there was no airlock.

Curious, the Doctor moved to the nearest piece of equipment. It was some kind of molecular separator, with a number of phials of white powder still in it. The Doctor tipped one out into his hand, and brushed the powder lightly with his fingers. 'It can't be...' he looked around for a scanner, and picked one up off a nearby desk. He scanned the powder sample. 'Vraxoin... But no organic molecules, so they can't be breaking it down from Mandrels.' His eyes narrowed.

Kapra's meeting with the Director hadn't lasted as long as he had expected, and had merely covered everyday formalities.

He was surprised that Professor Hoffman wasn't in the refectory, however, and set off to look for him.

Cronan was, as usual, rejoicing in his sense of personal superiority when he came down from his quarters.

He took the open door to his lab as an insult. How dare anyone intrude in his domain? He took a small blaster from his pocket. Weapons were naturally forbidden in the facility, but rules made by others had never meant much to Cronan.

Only the ones that he made himself mattered, and chief among them was 'Thou shall not mess with my stuff.'

The Doctor heard the door open, and dropped to the floor as someone entered. Whatever else was going on here, if someone was manufacturing vraxoin, they wouldn't want that information spread around. Whether it was the government, or some scientist working on his own, they would want him silenced.

Keeping the desks and equipment units between him and the newcomer, the Doctor managed to work his way round to the door while the new arrival worked his way deeper into the lab.

The Doctor disappeared round the corner towards the time dams just as Kapra came into the corridor from the other direction.

Kapra saw the open lab door, and wondered if his guest might have gone in there. It was against protocol for a member of staff to enter another department's lab, but it happened occasionally.

Kapra stepped into the pharmacology lab, where he saw Cronan looking angrily around with a gun. 'Is something wrong?'

Cronan virtually exploded. 'What the fipe are you doing in here? This is my lab, dammit! Get out, you worm.'

Kapra flinched from the unexpected vitriol. 'I was just looking for Profes-' He stopped as his eyes fell upon the scanner left lying amidst some white powder on the desk nearby. It was vraxoin. 'Oh no...' He looked up at Cronan, and saw the rat-faced man glance down at the desk.

Cronan raised his gun. 'Serves you right,' he snarled.

Kapra backed out of the lab into the corridor, and bolted back towards the lift. Cronan leapt over a bench to follow him out and shot Kapra in the back.

Alarms blared immediately, set off by the unauthorised energy discharge. A pair of uniformed guards charged in, and Cronan ran for it.

Wei himself eventually found the Doctor in the rotunda with the time dams. 'Dropped my pen,' the Doctor explained. 'Had to come back for it.' His face grew grimmer. 'Tell Mandell I want a meeting,' the Doctor muttered into Wei's ear. 'The furniture factory in Methuselah Town, at eight.'

Then the Time Lord was gone, and Wei was very glad that Mandell hadn't engaged someone with less regard for life to do his dirty work.

Cronan made it to his personal flier and was out of the Thor Facility just in time. By now the guards would have found his stock of vrax in the lab. This was his mysterious intruder's fault, and that person would regret it, he promised himself.

There were security monitors all through the asteroid, but Cronan had bypassed the ones in his lab, so that they recorded directly on to data crystals and sent innocent pictures to security control. He slotted the latest crystal into his flier's monitor, and ran the image forward until he found what he was looking for: a man with curly blond hair and a multicoloured coat over striped yellow trousers...

Frobisher didn't like the sound of what the Doctor had told him at all. 'Vraxoin?'

The Doctor nodded as they walked back into the Nosferatu. Nosferatu.

'Somehow one of the scientists is synthesising it artificially.'

'You think it's one of the government's black ops, or just a few rogues who work there?'

'There was no way to tell. We'll see what Mandell has to say. I've demanded a meeting tonight.'

Frobisher nodded absently. 'But what about our other problem, Doc?'

'I'm more certain than ever that the Thor Facility has something to do with that.'

'How can you tell?'

'One thing at a time, Frobisher. We must gather our evidence before we start making accusations.'

With its repulsorlift field repelling even the dust from the floor, a flier settled into its cradle on one of the middle levels of a floating housing block. The man inside, obscured by the tinted canopy, made no move to get out of the vehicle. He simply sat and took note of his surroundings, appearing neither nervous nor relaxed.

A second flier drew up outside the docking cradle. One of the rear doors slid open, and Cronan emerged. Without looking back, Cronan marched unflinchingly over to the first flier.

The flier's canopy opened as he approached, and he reached it to find a tall and slim but slightly seedy-looking man with close-cropped dark hair looking up at him. 'You're very punctual, Reno,' Cronan said, 'I like that. It shows respect.' Respect was good for business.

'You get what you pay for,' the scruffy-looking Reno agreed, relaxing slightly. Cronan noticed that one of his hands was out of sight. Holding a weapon, no doubt. He didn't take that personally; these days everyone had to look out for themselves. Besides, there was a bomb in his coat pocket, linked to a heart monitor. If Reno killed him, he and his flier would accompany Cronan straight to hell. 'What can I do you for?'

Cronan proffered a hand-held computer link. 'You can spread the word of the Lord.'

'Still on that godhood kick, Cronan?' Reno grunted.

'Everyone should have a hobby.' He glanced at the computer link. 'You want me to spread the word about this guy?'

'That's right. Free of charge. I've made a deposit in your account to cover the effort. I want anybody who might be interested to know that there's ten million GalSec credit bars on offer to anyone who kills this man.'

'A tidy sum,' Reno murmured. 'Everyone on VP who owns a blaster will be out looking for him.' And most likely killing each other, as was usually the case when rivals went hunting.

Cronan nodded patiently at his inferior's denseness. 'That is kind of the idea, Reno.'

Wei hurried into Mandell's office, looking stressed. That immediately made Mandell worry, since nothing ever stressed Wei.

'Sijul Wei began, 'We have a problem.' Wei began, 'We have a problem.'