Mandell grinned. 'Through intermediaries, of course. The Security and Intelligence Division bought it, and it currently resides in the Thor Orbital Facility on Vandor Prime.' He handed over a datapad from his pocket. 'All the relevant details are in here.'

'Why are you telling me this?' Glitz doubted they could possibly let him walk out of here alive knowing all this.

'Because you are going to reassemble the team who stole it from Veltroch, and you are going to steal it back. You will then take it to Elchur, where you and I will return it to its rightful owners.'

'Do I have a choice in any of this?'

'Of course! If you prefer, I could just kill you here and now.'

'Just curious,' Glitz said hastily. 'I mean, the chance to do something for the benefit of -'

'Just settle for the benefit of your continued existence.'

Frobisher didn't like the way Glitz and Mandell were acting so pally. He didn't know either of them, but he had come to the conclusion that Glitz was about as trustworthy as a drunken Walarian, and Mandell made that look good. This was nothing, however, compared to his dismay as the Doctor marched imperiously over to Mandell.

'Just a moment,' the Time Lord began. Perhaps it isn't my place - at least not more than anywhere is my place - but if you're in some kind of difficulty, perhaps I could be of some small assistance?' Frobisher wasn't sure whether he was talking to Glitz or Mandell.

Mandell turned slowly, looking down his nose at the newcomer; not an easy task, considering that he was several inches shorter than the Doctor. 'Now... Glitz and Dibber I know I can use, but you two... Who are you?'

The Doctor indicated his short companion. 'This is Frobisher, and I am generally known as the Doctor. I am also, as it happens, the former President of Gallifrey, and a...

loose acquaintance of Sabalom Glitz.'

'No. You're an anomaly, and that means I don't know where we stand.' Mandell looked up. 'Gallifrey? You're a Time Lord, then.'

Glitz broke in. 'We didn't ask him to join us. He just turned up in his TARDIS.'

'Talking of which,' said the Doctor, 'when do I get it back?'

Your TARDIS?' Mandell thought quickly. 'It'll be removed.

Glitz has a task, and I don't want him getting distracted by it.'

'Look,' Frobisher protested, 'I know a little about the law - have to in my line.' He handed over an identicard. 'And I know this can't be on the level.'

Mandell examined the identicard. 'Avan Tarklu. Native of the planet Xenon...' He looked up. 'Shapeshifter, eh? I wondered how a penguin could be so lippy.' He looked back at the identicard. 'Occupation: private investigator, licensed to operate in Rassm City and surrounding system.' Mandell tossed the plastic back to Frobisher, grinning smarmily. 'You do realise, I take it, that the profession of private investigator is illegal in the Vandor system, unless approved by the Security and Intelligence Division.' The grin widened. 'Which means me.'

'I'm on vacation,' Frobisher answered hurriedly. 'I haven't even been back to my office in a year.' Frobisher was somewhat surprised to hear his own real name again. It was impossible, of course, but it was almost as if he had forgotten it. In those days he had spent less time as Avan Tarklu than as a series of other beings or objects.

At least Frobisher was a constant. When he was Frobisher, he was Frobisher, and that was that. He suppressed an urge to shiver. There was something in that idea which he didn't want to examine too closely.

'Vacation?' Mandell asked exaggeratedly. 'Well, then. I find you in the company of a pair of known criminals, and yet you're not working? I suppose you could be their accomplices...'

'We are not Glitz and Dibber's accomplices!' the Doctor said hotly. 'We arrived here quite by accident, and I am quite generously offering you the services of my not inconsiderable abilities.'

'If they're half as notable as your ego, you might have a point there. But it seems strange that you should so suddenly offer help to a man you've never met.'

'Not really. I have a few questions of my own I want answered, and if you truly are head of this planet's Intelligence service, then you might be able to help with them. Now, just what exactly is it you are trying, in your own idiosyncratic little way, to ask Glitz to do?'

Mandell sighed; this Doctor wasn't stupid. Mandell was rather disappointed in rather disappointed in that, that, since since the stupid were much easier to manipulate. He looked the Doctor in the eye, trying to remember all the involuntary signs of lying so that he could avoid giving them. 'I'm reluctant to tell you this, because if the word got out, it could cause panic in the population. But I'm going to have to trust you. A group of freelance thieves stole a relic from the Veltrochni ten years ago, and Glitz sold it to the highest bidder.' the stupid were much easier to manipulate. He looked the Doctor in the eye, trying to remember all the involuntary signs of lying so that he could avoid giving them. 'I'm reluctant to tell you this, because if the word got out, it could cause panic in the population. But I'm going to have to trust you. A group of freelance thieves stole a relic from the Veltrochni ten years ago, and Glitz sold it to the highest bidder.'

'Which was your government, I presume?'

'Exactly. We kept it under wraps, but no secrecy is perfect, and the Veltrochni recently discovered that we have it.'

'And naturally they want it back. And I can't say I blame them,' the Doctor added pointedly.

'They've been rattling their sabres for several weeks, demanding its return. If they don't get it back, they will try to take it by force. That can only mean disaster for Vandor's population.'

The Doctor gave Mandell a look, and spoke in the tone of voice one would use to a child too dense to see the obvious.

'Then why don't you just give it them back? That would seem to be the logical solution.'

'We can't. For one thing, the current administration doesn't know anything about it. If I openly hand it back, the government will be swamped with other claims for whatever else might - hypothetically speaking - have found its way here. No... I made private contact with the Veltrochni Council of Houses, and promised to deliver it quietly. The deadline is one week from today. Now, if you can help me, perhaps I can help you.

The Doctor tilted his head, considering the story he'd just been told. 'My feathered friend and I were recently accosted by two rather unsavoury assassins. What's more, they had travelled through time, and their journey began on your planet.'

'And you want to know who sent them?' Mandell was fairly certain he hadn't sent any time-travelling assassins out. And he had never met this Doctor before, so had no reason to kill him yet. Now that he knew so much, it was a different matter.

'Exactly.'

'Then perhaps we can help each other... The sole temporal engineering permitted on Vandor Prime is also aboard the Thor Facility. If someone there has been indulging in extracurricular activities, I'd be very interested to know about it.' Mandell had a dislike of people operating without his sanction. There was definitely something wrong here.

'All right, Doctor. Incredible as it may seem, I believe you.

You help me, and I'll see what I can dig up. I will, however, keep your TARDIS in protective custody.'

'Can you legally do that?' Frobisher demanded.

'No.'

'Then can we have it back?'

'No. I'm doing you a favour, aren't I? If someone is messing around with time travel on this planet, I'm sure the last thing you'll want is for them to get their hands on your TARDIS.'

'They'll find that difficult,' the Doctor said coldly.

'They certainly will,' Mandell agreed. 'Especially once it's under guard. It's not that I don't trust you, but... Well, actually it is is that I don't trust you.' He grinned nastily. 'You won't need it for a week or so anyway.' that I don't trust you.' He grinned nastily. 'You won't need it for a week or so anyway.'

'You don't believe all that guff, surely?' Frobisher asked. The whole thing stank like a month-old mackerel as far as he was concerned. Mandell was being very free with his trust if any of it was true, and Frobisher couldn't believe that for a moment. It was some kind of trap, he was sure, but he didn't know what kind. Most of the schemers he had dealt with back in his gumshoe days couldn't even pronounce half the words Mandell spouted, so Frobisher suspected he'd be out of his depth here.

The Doctor squinted at the departing Mandell and his lackeys. 'I suspect it was true, actually. The first rule of intelligence work is that what you don't don't know is more important than what you do, so he certainly wasn't telling us everything. But I fear it is true about the risks of the Veltrochni attacking. They're an honourable people, not one of your thuggish galactic conquerors. If they are threatening violence, then they're very sure that they've got good reason to do so.' know is more important than what you do, so he certainly wasn't telling us everything. But I fear it is true about the risks of the Veltrochni attacking. They're an honourable people, not one of your thuggish galactic conquerors. If they are threatening violence, then they're very sure that they've got good reason to do so.'

Frobisher could see where this was going. Once the Doctor got a bee in his bonnet about something, there was no stopping him until he satisfied his curiosity. 'Between those two goons in the TARDIS, and this business here, we're going to be around here for a while, aren't we?'

The Doctor looked almost pained, as if driven by some force he couldn't control. 'I have to. Besides, you heard what he said about the Veltrochni. Now, one of those two assassins who came after us was a Veltrochni. What does that suggest to you, eh?'

'Unless you're a conspiracy theorist, it suggests a coincidence.'

The Doctor recoiled from the very idea. 'Coincidence? When it comes to time travel, there's no such thing as coincidence.

I'm sure there must be a link between what's happening here, and what happened to us in the TARDIS.'

'Then let's investigate on our own. This guy's setting us up to be patsies.'

'I know.' The Doctor set his jaw grimly. 'But he's right about two things - lives are are at stake here, and Glitz does need watching. I can't just let them play their little games and get innocent people hurt.' Frobisher knew that the Doctor's curiosity was a force to be reckoned with. Once allied with a passion for life and justice, it was something that drove him. at stake here, and Glitz does need watching. I can't just let them play their little games and get innocent people hurt.' Frobisher knew that the Doctor's curiosity was a force to be reckoned with. Once allied with a passion for life and justice, it was something that drove him.

'Let me put it this way, Frobisher: who is more likely to be able to track down unlicensed time experimenters? Two small-time criminals, or a planet's Intelligence service?'

Chapter Five.

The Thornton Thornton drifted slowly, her engines and running lights dead. The communications array was gone, leaving just a burned patch of metal. Luckily for the crew of the frigate drifted slowly, her engines and running lights dead. The communications array was gone, leaving just a burned patch of metal. Luckily for the crew of the frigate Cobb, Cobb, the main airlock was still intact, if a little scraped. the main airlock was still intact, if a little scraped.

Taking up position alongside the smaller ship, the frigate extended a docking tube and locked on.

The Thornton's Thornton's outer airlock doors cracked open, allowing the beams from helmet-mounted lights to probe the room through the jagged hole where the inner doors used to be. Six figures in spacesuits entered, weapons held ready. 'Life support's off-line,' one man with a scanning device said gruffly. 'But there's still an atmosphere.' outer airlock doors cracked open, allowing the beams from helmet-mounted lights to probe the room through the jagged hole where the inner doors used to be. Six figures in spacesuits entered, weapons held ready. 'Life support's off-line,' one man with a scanning device said gruffly. 'But there's still an atmosphere.'

'Keep your suits tight all the same,' the boarding party's leader, Lambert, warned. 'The temperature would strip the lining of your lungs the second you breathe in.' She directed her light around the main bay. It was totally empty, though a few patches of frozen blood gleamed on the walls and floor.

There were no bodies; just those eerie shadows that were the only residue left behind by vaporised bodies.

'Any lifeform readings?'

'None.'

Lambert nodded, and shouldered her weapon. 'We'll sweep the ship. I want to know who did this.'

Brokhal chewed on a dried bark-crawler as she watched the longer and more graceful Vandorian ship dock with the drifting one. 'Do our sensors detect any sign of what attacked the Vandor ship?'

'Indeterminate signs of external weapons fire,' Trelokh said.

'They may have allowed their attackers to board willingly.'

'Another Vandor ship?' Humans were a strange species, always fighting among themselves. In many ways Brokhal supposed they were like the Veltrochni, with their various different clans. Except that there hadn't been a clan war among the Veltrochni in over a thousand years. Brokhal was never sure whether to despise humans or admire them, for their devotion to internecine warfare.

'It is possible, but why?'

'The human Pack who occupy this world have a duelling tradition. Perhaps there was a blood feud...' Even as she spoke the words, she couldn't really believe them. A duel between individuals shouldn't lead to the death of the whole crew. Or if it was a duel between whole crews, then why not simply engage in ship-to-ship combat?

'In many ways,' she said, 'it does not matter who did this.

The President and his underlings will almost certainly seek to blame us.'

Trelokh's youthfully white spines flattened. 'Then we must issue a denial of responsibility immediately.'

'They will take that as a sign that we wish to hide something,' Brokhal said dismissively. 'No... Let them think we did this.'

'Mother?'

Her son was young for such a position as Flight Director, and not well-versed in politics. Brokhal used a claw to crack the shell of another bark-crawler. 'It will make the humans fear us more. They will be more likely to return our property to prevent further... misunderstandings.' She hoped so anyway. She wondered what her ancestor, Brokhyth, would have done in this case. She was a Pack-Mother who had truly earned the respect of the humans...

Somehow, Brokhal couldn't see her esteemed predecessor feeling quite as unsure of herself as Brokhal did.

Niccolo Mandell's private shuttle curved in towards Vandor Prime's atmosphere. In a comfortable armchair in the luxurious passenger section, Mandell sipped a cup of his favourite coffee. It had been specially imported from Earth, since the local beans produced a vile brew which, even when freshly ground, tasted like something out of a drinks machine. Mandell thought it was probably something to do with the exact spectral composition of the light from Gamma Delphinus. It must react badly with the cells in coffee plants, he thought.

Wei, his deputy director, came through from the cockpit. Of oriental stock, Wei was tall, lean and angular, with a long and glossy black ponytail. 'Mandell lo lo, we'll be arriving in five minutes. Where do you want the Doctor's capsule?'

'Take it to the Foreign Technologies tether.' He was certainly not going to be fool enough to store it in the very place he wanted the Doctor to visit, though that would have been a more fitting place for it.

'A permanent addition to the collection?'

'Until after the heist. Then we can move it to the Thor Facility.' It wasn't as if the Doctor would ever be needing it again, and the chance to get hold of a working time machine was too good to pass up.