'Those Jekkari,' said Kurt slowly. 'All that tapping business...You were communicating with them.'

Smith nodded. 'The Jekkari don't speak because they have no vocal cords. They communicate by a very complex system of signing.'

'But if the Jekkari are as intelligent as you say why do they hang round doing dirty jobs for the colonists...Kurt saw the answer as soon as he asked the question. 'Yes, of course...'

'That's right,' said Smith. 'Intelligence agents. Spies if you like. It cost them quite a few lives at first, but as soon as the colonists became convinced they were dim and harmless, the Jekkari could come and go as they liked. They were studying the colonists to discover their weaknesses. They completely fooled the colonists. With luck, they'll fool the Sontarans too.'

Kurt was only concerned with his own survival. 'Will they help us to escape?'

'They'll help me,' said Smith. 'And you might as well come along if nothing else, it'll annoy the Sontarans.'

'Thanks a lot. So what do we do now?'

'We wait till dark.'

As the shadows of night spread across the little cell, there came a m.u.f.fled thumping from the corridor outside. The heavy metal door of the cell began to creak and groan and vibrate. With a shriek of metal it disappeared ripped from its hinges from outside.

Smith and Kurt moved out into the dark corridor. They could just make out the ma.s.sive shape of a Jekkari crouched over the p.r.o.ne body of a guard. It was rocking mournfully, to and fro.

'He's upset because he killed the guard by mistake,'

whispered Smith. 'They hate killing.'

He drummed rapidly on the Jekkari's shoulder, and the giant anthropoid rose and led them down the corridor.

Another guard came round the corner, saw them and said, 'Hey '

It was all he said because the edge of Kurt's hand took him across the throat. Kurt drew back his arm for the second, killing blow, but Smith caught his wrist in a surprisingly powerful grip.

'No! I hate killing too.'

Smith's fingers gripped the still-choking guard's neck, and the man went limp. Kurt caught him and lowered him to the ground. He rubbed his wrist. Little Smith was stronger than he looked.

They moved across the dark, silent landing field until they reached Kurt's freighter.

'Can you pilot that thing by yourself?' asked Smith.

Kurt nodded. 'I had it adapted for solo use. Partners cut down profits.'

'Then I'd get on board and blast off. I don't think the Sontarans will follow you. Most of them are out subduing Port City. The ones left here are due for some unexpected trouble at their command centre. The Sontarans won't find this planet as easy to hold as they think.'

As if to belie his words, a harsh voice croaked, 'Halt!'

Kurt, Smith and the Jekkari all froze, as a Sontaran trooper stepped from the shadows, covering them with his blaster.

'You are all my prisoners. Return to the command post.

Resist and you will be killed.'

Kurt decided that he couldn't face losing his freedom now.

He tensed himself for a suicidal attack. If he could get his hands on that blaster Smith put a restraining hand on his arm.

A huge dark shape materialized behind the Sontaran trooper. Giant hands seized him, raised him high in the air then dashed him head-first to the stony ground with such shattering force that they heard the skull shatter and the thick neck-bones snap.

Kurt let out a long shuddering sigh. 'I thought you said they didn't like to kill.'

'They don't. But they can do it now, if they must. It's something I had to teach them,' said Smith sadly.

Kurt swung the metal wheel that opened the entry-hatch.

'Come with me. I'll take you anywhere you like.' Sudden, overwhelming grat.i.tude pushed Kurt into utter recklessness.

'h.e.l.l, I'll even give you half my profits on this trip well, a third, anyway...'

Smith smiled and shook his head. 'Keep your profits, Kurt.

If they're big enough, you could even turn honest.'

'How are you going to get away from here"

'I've got my own transportation, hidden in the forest.

Besides, I'm not leaving yet. I've got unfinished business here.'

Kurt opened the hatch. 'Suit yourself.' He paused, looking at the strange little man, flanked by his two giant allies.

'I owe you, Smith, I owe you big. I'm an honest criminal, I always pay my debts. Anything I can do, anywhere, any time.'

He grinned. 'John Smith! I don't even know your real name.'

'Few people do. Why don't you just call me the Doctor?'

The Doctor turned and vanished into the darkness.

Kurt scrambled inside the hatch, closed it behind him, and climbed the ladder to the control room, praying that the ancient engines would fire first time.

Just for once they did. Smuggler's luck, thought Kurt, as the old freighter lumbered into the sky. Well' he was due for some.

He set the course on automatic pilot, took a bottle of Jekkar brandy from a locker and took a long, long swig straight from the bottle.

As the comforting warmth seeped through his veins, he started thinking about the Doctor, wondering if the odd little man would survive.

After a while he gave up on that and started working out the profits from the trip. They should run into millions. He decided that he might even be able to afford to go straight as the Doctor suggested. He wondered if he'd like it. What would he do for excitement? He'd have to take up some upper-cla.s.s sport like solar yacht racing.

On the edge of the forest, the Doctor paused to study the skies and raise a hand in farewell. Nice fellow, Kurt.

It was curious, thought the Doctor, how he'd always got on better with rogues and riff-raff than with field-marshals, high officials and other top people. If it wasn't for that he might still be Lord President of Gallifrey.

Thanking fate for less than respectable tastes, the Doctor looked up at the towering forms of his two gorilla-like friends.

'Me Doctor, you Jekkari,' he said. 'I wonder if I'd look good in a loin-cloth?'

The two Jekkari looked politely puzzled.

Smiling, the Doctor followed them into the dark forest.

BOOK ONE.

BEGINNINGS.

1.

Ripper.

All over Megacity, the word was out.

From the penthouses where the fat cats lived, high above the stench and filth of the smoggy streets, in mid-town bars where the wheelers and dealers connived and plotted, down to the sleazy dives of a thriving criminal underworld.

Someone was asking questions. Two someones to be precise. Humans, or at least humanoid; a big fair-haired man and a small dark woman. They'd arrived from somewhere off-planet and they were on someone's trail. Somebody big.

The rumours grew in the telling. Those with something to hide practically everybody were getting nervous. One ambition united crooked politicians in their office suites and muggers in back alleyways. To find out what the newcomers wanted and make sure that they didn't get it. Not without paying a very high price like their lives.

Lingering over an overpriced breakfast in a hideously over-decorated and expensive hotel, Roz Forrester thought that Megacity was an Adjudicator's nightmare. She was used to corruption. It had caused her to quit her job with the Adjudication Service a job that had been her entire life. But at least that had been a case of corruption within a reasonably honest system.

Here in Megacity, corruption was was the system. the system.

Megacity covered most of a planet called Megerra as unattractive a planet as you could wish to avoid. A rock-ball in s.p.a.ce but a rock-ball of incredible value. Megerra was mineral-rich to an amazing degree, with vast deposits of gold, silver, iron, nickel and uranium.

The planet was carved up between Earth's major mining corporations who were ripping the guts out of it.

Megerra was covered with mines, factories and workshops and with Megacity, where its inhabitants lived, worked, played and very frequently died. Megacity was a very dangerous place.

The race to rip out the minerals promoted a boom economy.

Miners and engineers flocked in from all over the galaxy. The money they made attracted gamblers, wh.o.r.es, drug-dealers and just plain thieves, dedicated to taking that money away from them.

Megerra was a planet where you came to get rich quick and move out. But while you were there, you had to eat and drink and enjoy yourself. Megacity catered for every imaginable taste, all round the clock. Just about everything went in Megacity as long as it didn't cut mining profits or slow down production.

Which gave rise to Megerra's other industry tourism. The businessmen on the Planetary Council ran Megerra as one big open city. The freewheeling entertainment facilities, originally designed for the miners and engineers, appealed to others as well. Word spread that Megacity was the place for a wild time with very few questions asked. Tourists flocked in from more primitive, or more respectable, planets.

In Megacity, everyone was on the make.

Roz had to bribe the hotel-clerk to honour their reservations, bribe her way from a room over the noisy main drag to a quiet one at the back. Everything for a price, she thought sourly.

She looked up as a handsome blond-haired blue-eyed giant made his way over to her table. Normally, Chris Cwej, her fellow ex-Adjudicator and current companion, professionally speaking only, whatever he might hope, looked offensively happy and healthy, especially first thing in the morning.

Today, Roz noted with malicious satisfaction, there were black rings under his blue eyes and the fair skin had an undoubtedly greenish tinge.

Chris nodded carefully, and sat down beside her. The chair, like most chairs, was too small for him.

It had taken Roz ten minutes of scowling, snarling and table-thumping to attract the attention of the long-legged, short-skirted, big-haired, big-bosomed topless waitress, but suddenly here she was at Chris's side, leaning over his table and threatening to poke his blurred blue eyes out.

'Full breakfast, sir?' she purred. 'A man your size needs to keep his strength up.'

'Try the mixed sea-food platter,' suggested Roz callously.

'Baby sand-lizards, squid, honey-covered sea-slugs and deep-fried eels.'

Chris shuddered and shook his head. Looking up at the waitress, then hurriedly raising his eyes to her face, he said desperately, 'Just tea. Do you have any herb tea?'

'I'll bring you some materra materra,' cooed the waitress seductively. 'Specially imported from Rigel IV. They say it has aphrodisiac properties.'

'Don't waste your time, sister,' said Roz. 'To do him, or you, any good it'd need to have corpse-raising properties.' The waitress gave her a murderous smile and flounced away. Roz sat back and surveyed her unhappy partner.

'Now, what do we do during our first few days on a strange planet?' she said in schoolmarmish tones. 'We have our shots, we swallow our pills, we eat bland foods till our system settles down and acclimatizes.'

'Give me a break,' said Chris feebly.

Remorselessly Roz went on, 'We do not not make our way to the only remaining ethnic restaurant in town and blow ourselves out on Fugora-fish stew.' make our way to the only remaining ethnic restaurant in town and blow ourselves out on Fugora-fish stew.'