'What the h.e.l.l for?'

'Don't argue, Mailer do it do it!'

Mailer felt the force of the Master's will like a blast of heat. He nodded hastily. 'Yeah okay, okay!'

'Good. Meet me in the Governor's office when you've finished.'

The Doctor was completely unconscious now, his breathing very shallow.

Jo jumped up and hammered frantically on the cell door. 'You out there please, listen to me!'

'Oh, go to sleep, darling.'

'Please, open the door!'

There was a moment's silence. Then to Jo's vast relief there was a rattle of keys and the door was flung open.

Vosper looked down at Jo, who was kneeling by the Doctor. 'Proper little Miss Nightingale, ain't you?'

'Look at him,' said Jo indignantly. 'He needs a doctor.'

'Oh, what a shame!'

'At least help me to get him onto the bed. He's too heavy for me.'

Vosper helped Jo to heave the Doctor onto the bed. Jo gave him her most winning smile. 'Thank you. Now will you get Doctor Summers please?'

'Anything for you, darling,' said Vosper wearily. He left the cell.

The Master stood in the Process Chamber staring down at the Keller Machine.

As the Doctor had finally realised, it wasn't really a Machine at all, but a prison for an alien ent.i.ty that fed on men's minds. Now it looked as if the creature was growing strong enough to break out of its prison.

As if sensing the Master's presence, the Machine began to throb. 'You can't harm me,' said the Master contemptuously. 'I'm too strong for you.'

The throbbing increased.

'I brought you here,' shouted the Master. 'I gave you the minds you need to feed on. You are my servant.'

An electronic pulsing filled the room.

The Master ran to the console and frantically operated controls without the slightest effect. The creature had grown so strong that the force-field controlled from the console could no longer restrain it.

Angrily the Master glared at the Machine. Inside the central column the strange sponge-like shape was pulsating steadily. 'I'm too strong for you!'

The Machine blurred, shimmered and turned into the Doctor.

But no ordinary Doctor. This Doctor was a giant, towering high above the Master.

The giant Doctor threw back his head and laughed, peal upon peal of mocking laughter.

'No!' screamed the Master. 'No!'

The creature in the Machine had plucked the Master's one great fear out of his mind. His fear of the Doctor, of the Doctor's mockery, of the way that the Doctor could always make him feel small.

Summoning all his will-power, the Master turned and staggered from the Process Chamber. He slammed the door shut and lowered the locking bar into place. For a moment he leaned gasping against the door. 'No more human minds for you to feed on,' he muttered savagely. 'We'll see what starvation does to bring you to heel.'

Summers concluded his examination of the Doctor and looked up at Jo in total puzzlement. 'It's extraordinary.

Quite extraordinary. His whole physical make-up just isn't human.'

Jo said impatiently. 'I know. What's the matter matter with him?' with him?'

'He's been beaten up, physically and mentally. It's as if his system has suffered some enormous shock. He seems to be in a kind of coma.'

'Can't you do anything for him.'

'I very much doubt it.' Summers took a bottle from his pocket, and shook a couple of pills into Jo's hand. 'You might try giving him these if he recovers consciousness.'

He leaned forward. 'Miss Grant, do you have any idea who organised this second break?'

Before Jo could answer, Vosper came back into the cell.

'All right, Doc, time's up.' He nodded down at the still unconscious Doctor. 'What's the verdict? Is he done for?'

Summers rose. 'Not quite, though it's no thanks to you.'

'Come on, Doc. Don't forget to send in your bill.'

He shoved Summers out into the corridor, and the cell door was closed once more.

The Doctor stirred and muttered something. Jo hurried to his side with the pills. 'Here, Doctor, take these.'

Feebly he shook his head. 'No, Jo, wrong metabolism...

probably kill me. I'll be all right... just need... rest.'

His head fell back, and his eyes closed. Within minutes he had sunk back into his coma a coma that seemed to Jo very close to death.

The Master sat behind the Governor's desk still shaken from his ordeal as Harry Mailer noticed as soon as he entered the room.

'You all right?'

'Yes, of course.'

'Well, you don't look too good to me.' Mailer sat down on the other side of the desk.

The Master made a mighty effort to rally himself. He was controlling this gang of vicious thugs by little more than the force of his will. He couldn't afford to show any signs of weakness. When he spoke again, it was in his usual authoritative manner. 'I want an armed guard on the door of the Process Chamber. No one is to go near that Machine.'

'Don't worry, mate. None of my lot are likely to.'

The Master stroked his beard. 'Perhaps not but morbid curiosity can be very strong. See to it, will you?'

'Yeah, okay.'

The Master smiled, bringing to bear the full force of his personality. 'I am pleased with you, Mailer. You have done very well. Very well indeed.'

'Good. Then perhaps you'll do something for me?'

'Anything!' said the Master expansively. 'You have only to ask.'

'Maybe you'll explain why we don't all scarper tonight, before it gets light?'

'My dear Mailer, you're simply not thinking. A gang of armed convicts roaming the countryside...'

'We can get hold of civvies and there's cars outside.'

'Even so, you must remember that you'd have not only the police but the army against you. Dogs, troops, helicopters. I a.s.sure you, you'd all be captured or killed before tomorrow morning.'

Mailer looked suspiciously at him. 'I take it you've got a better idea?'

'Of course,' said the Master confidently. Drawing the curtains, he pulled down a wall screen, then crossed to a slide projector, set up on a nearby table. 'How would you like a free pardon, unlimited money, and a plane ticket to anywhere in the world?'

'How would I like it do me a favour!'

'Then pay attention.' The Master clicked on the projector and a picture filled the screen. It showed a giant rocket, loaded on to a transporter. 'This is Thunderbolt, a nerve gas missile, nuclear powered, and British, of course.'

'Of course!' muttered Mailer.

'And what's more, it's illegal,' continued the Master.

'Gas warfare was banned several years ago. The British Government have therefore decided to dump this missile at sea.' The Master paused impressively. 'Tomorrow morning, the missile, with a very small escort, will pa.s.s within a very few miles of this prison.'

'I suppose you want me to hijack it,' said Mailer sarcastically.

'Right first time! I intend to aim the missile at the Peace Conference in London.'

Mailer shook his head in amazement. 'You've got to be joking.'

'I a.s.sure you I am not.'

The Master flicked on another slide and a map appeared on the screen.

He pointed. 'Now, this is the prison and this is where you will ambush the convoy...'

When Vosper opened the cell door to check on his prisoners, the Doctor was still stretched out unconscious.

Jo was fast asleep in a chair beside the bed. Her eyes opened as the cell door opened.

Vosper nodded towards the Doctor. 'He's still with us, then?'

Jo yawned. 'Sorry you're disappointed.'

'You watch your lip,' growled Vosper.

'How about some breakfast?'

'What do you think this is a holiday camp?'

'He's not going to be much use to the Master if he doesn't get some food, is he? You weren't told to starve us to death, were you?'

'All right, all right,' said Vosper, worn down yet again by Jo's insistence. He called outside the cell. 'Charlie, nip along to the kitchens and rustle up some grub.' He looked down at the Doctor. 'Though from the look of your mate here, I very much doubt if he's going to need it.'

He went out, slamming the door behind him.

The Doctor opened his eyes and sat up, beaming at the astonished Jo. 'Well done, my dear. Now maybe we can do something about getting out of here.'

In the courtyard, a ragged line of armed prisoners was a.s.sembling by the prison's Black Maria, watched by Mailer and the Master. Having finally convinced Mailer that his scheme was a practical one, the Master was now using all his eloquence to convince Mailer's men.

'And remember,' he concluded, 'if you succeed, this operation will be your pa.s.sport to prosperity and freedom anywhere in the world. Good luck to you all!'

Naturally, the Master was lying. He had told them that once the missile was in his hands he intended to use it to blackmail the Government, gaining free pardons and millions in cash for them all to share.

But in fact, the Master had no such intention. Once the missile was in his hands, he intended to fire it, bringing all the horrors of war upon the world.

Once that happened, the Master would no longer be concerned with the fate of Mailer and his men or indeed, with that of the entire population of the Earth.

Unaware that he was no more than a disposable p.a.w.n in the Master's schemes, Mailer shouted, 'Everyone got the picture? Right then, let's go!'

They all climbed into the Black Maria and it drove away.

11.