The corridors of the administration offices on level four were silent and dark. Every step Shom took along the stone-flagged walkways retorted sharply like a book slammed shut. The emergency lights served only to increase the empty strangeness of a place that had been designed, in part, to intimidate those who entered it.

Shom stopped. Had there been a noise from the darkened alcove to his left? He unholstered his blaster, swallowed and called, 'Margo? Margo, it's Lieutenant Shom. I've come to help you.'

There was no response. He stepped closer. 'Margo?'

Something glinted silver in the pitch blackness ahead.

She was upon him in less than a second. His blaster was kicked from his grip with one upward sweep of her leg. The beautiful blank silver mask touched his face. It smelt of iron.

The way blood smells of iron.

'h.e.l.lo, soldier boy,' she hissed. He whimpered and tried to pull away, but her hands were tight around his waist. Her breath was hot. One of her hands reached out and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead.

'What are you doing?' he protested, more disgusted than scared.

'She always wanted to kiss you,' Margo spat. 'I know that, you see. I have looked into her mind. I know her memories, her fears, her desires. The small emotions of the Normal.'

He struggled in her grip. 'Why are you doing this?'

She clutched him closer. He caught a glimpse of her eyes through the slits of the mask. They were shiny, round and black. 'Why? You, Normal, ask me why? But then, how can you know? How could you ever know the hate I feel?' He struggled again and she threw back her head, exhilarated. 'Go on, squirm for me. I find it amusing.'

Shom found himself slammed up against a wall. The woman's strength was incredible. She grasped the collars of his uniform and lifted his feet off the ground. The long nails on her fingers caressed his cheek. He tried to pull his eyes away from hers but she held his gaze.

'The Doctor was right,' he stammered. 'You are Xais!'

'Correct,' she said proudly. 'And let your race know I have returned for my atonement!' She angled her head.

He started to scream. He felt the pain begin above his eyes, as if a long sharp blade was being driven directly into his brain. The pain spread, bursting blood vessels across his forehead. It swallowed his face, his neck, his chest.

He felt his stomach burst.

Xais took her hand away and watched with satisfaction as the remains fell to the floor with a pleasing wet sound. Then she picked up Shom's blaster and walked away.

The asteroid shook again, the vibration sending the Doctor and Romana rolling over to the door of the control centre. 'We must get back to the TARDIS!' Romana shouted. She tried to stand but a further tremor knocked her down.

Spiggot called over, 'They'll blast us to pieces!'

The Doctor shook his head. 'I think not. They haven't come all this way to blow us up. I think they're trying to dock.' The room shook once more. 'And they're making a rare old mess of it.'

The black ship turned for another attempt to connect with the docking ports built into the side of the asteroid. Its snout struck an outcrop of rock and its aged engines wheezed in protest. A few seconds pa.s.sed. The ship moved again. Its thick bulk turned slowly.

The Doctor pulled Pyerpoint up. The old man was doing surprisingly well, the Doctor thought. Probably kept himself in good shape despite all those years sitting on draughty benches.

'They're trying to dock!' he called. 'How do I reach the docking port?

Pyerpoint shook his head. 'Head for the transmat, Doctor.

You must evacuate, all of you!'

The Doctor gripped him tighter. 'The docking port!'

Spiggot lurched over. 'I know the way, Doctor,' he called as the room began to buck, shaking them and a variety of free-standing objects up and down. 'The docking port's down on level four. It hasn't been used for forty years!'

The Doctor clapped him on the shoulder. 'Good man. Lead the way.' He followed Spiggot to the door. 'Look after K9,' he called back to Romana.

A thick tube slid slowly on hydraulic treads from the flanks of the black ship and connected with a small hatchway that was partly concealed between jagged formations of rock. Jets of steam hissed from the far end of the tube as internal clamps unclenched automatically. The tube was secured magnetically to the hatch.

'Well, we've stopped spinning, for one thing,' Spiggot said as he and the Doctor emerged from the lift on level four.

'That may not be good news,' the Doctor pointed out.

'They've almost certainly docked.' He raced forward along the corridor, but stopped short when he caught sight of something lying in a wet b.l.o.o.d.y heap against a wall. 'She's been here.'

Spiggot shook his head. 'She's a sick girl, all right.' He pulled his blaster from his jacket. 'Looks like a bullet's going to be the only way.'

The Doctor hurried on. 'Be careful, Spiggot,' he said. 'And let me do all the talking.'

The wall at the far end of the corridor had been blasted away, presumably by Shom's gun. Chunks of metal and oak panel were scattered about the hole. Spiggot nodded in reply to the Doctor's questioning glance. 'They had no need for a docking bay after the transmat was built so they bricked it over.'

The Doctor ducked his head to enter the hole. Beyond was a long tunnel of rock that widened and opened out into an open s.p.a.ce that formed a kind of cavern. Built into the far side of the cavern was a large, circular metal hatchway. Standing before it, hands on hips, her back to them, was Xais.

Spiggot levelled his blaster. 'Couldn't be better,' he whispered, taking aim. 'One bullet in the back. End of problem.'

'Don't be a fool,' the Doctor said fiercely. 'What happens if you miss?'

Spiggot squared his jaw. 'I've never missed.'

'Not while there's another way. Stay here and don't shoot unless I tell you to.' That said, the Doctor slipped away towards the hatch. Spiggot muttered resentfully and tightened his grip on the blaster.

As the Doctor neared the hatch, he heard sounds from the other side, a chorus of animal grunts that was almost familiar.

He couldn't make out any words. The hatchway seemed to be stuck, as if the new arrivals were having trouble opening it.

He stepped forward bravely. 'h.e.l.lo, Margo.'

The woman whipped round to face him. 'I am Xais!' The Doctor was unprepared for the force of her personality. He took an involuntary step back as the cruel head tilted back, as if it was about to release more terror from its eyes. Then Xais seemed to relent. The mask regarded him with interest. 'And you are the Doctor. You are unlike the other Normals.'

He shrugged. 'I'm not sure how to take that.'

Xais came closer. 'You speak casually for a man who is about to die.'

'About to die?' the Doctor said, indignant. 'I should hope not. There are a number of interesting things I haven't quite got round to yet.' He stared straight at her, daring to look into eyes that he knew could kill him in an instant. 'h.e.l.lo, Margo,'

he said again.

'Margo is dead,' Xais said triumphantly. 'I control this body.' She raised a hand and caressed the mask. 'The fusion will soon be complete. The long darkness will be over forever.

I shall be immortal!'

'Fight her, Margo,' the Doctor said softly. 'I know you are there.'

Xais tore her gaze away from him. 'I will kill you, Doctor.'

Her voice faltered and her knees trembled. 'Help me,' she said in Margo's voice. 'I do not want to kill. Help me, Doctor.'

He let out a deep breath and ran his tongue over dry lips.

The next stage of his plan was crucial. 'Margo, you must take off the mask. Remove it, that's right.'

Her hands raised slowly, reaching for the temples of the silver face. They faltered slightly. She gurgled, trying to suppress the alien voice of Xais.

'That's it, Margo,' the Doctor encouraged her. 'You can do it. Take off the mask.'

The tips of her fingers curled around the edges of the mask, where it had become joined with her skin. It started to come away.

The hatchway blew open with a blast of air that knocked them both off their feet. The Doctor was dimly aware of tramping booted feet and pig-like snorts surrounding him. He shook his head to clear it, spat out a mouthful of dust, and attempted to rise.

Standing over him was a stocky figure that was nearly seven feet tall. It wore huge black sixteen-hole boots, trousers made of a rough sacking material, and a shirt of the same covered by a jerkin of a shiny purple material. These clothes could not disguise the stooped shoulders and beast-like crouch of their owner. Gripped in one of the enormous hairy hands that dangled from its long thick arms was a dirty and very large rifle of futuristic design. The creature was dark skinned.

A ma.s.s of hair hung over its collar. The large dome of its head topped a heavy brow. The features beneath were simian; thin lips, a stubby nose and dull eyes that flashed with anger and loathing.

The creature could have been a missing link from Earth's prehistory. But the Doctor knew it was not. He knew that it, and the others of its kind that were treading heavily through the hatch, were Ogrons.

8.

Rampage.

-piggot pushed himself back against the wall of rock S around the entrance of the cavern, desperate to maintain his cover. He watched as the first of the ape creatures aimed its gun at the Doctor, who was shaking his head to clear the effects of the blast. The security officer, that frumpy old girl who had been taken over by the Xais mask, was getting up too. And she didn't look too happy.

'No!' She pushed the ape creature's gun aside. 'This Normal must be kept alive.' She brushed a crease from her tunic and looked approvingly at the monsters, more of which were emerging through the docking port. 'Now. Where are your masters?'

To Spiggot's surprise, the first ape spoke, in a guttural, grunting monotone. 'Masters wait in ship.' To ill.u.s.trate his point, the creature pointed a large hairy finger towards the docking port.

Xais nodded and went to the hatchway. The Doctor called after her. 'Er, would you mind telling me what's going on? At least introduce me to your hairy friends.' He tried to stand but a hefty boot blocked his progress. 'Excuse me,' he addressed the ape, 'you're standing on my scarf.'

He's pushing it, thought Spiggot. Why doesn't he just clam up and let them ignore him for a bit? That'd be the best approach.

The ape-being growled and clubbed the Doctor with the b.u.t.t of its rifle. He groaned and his head jerked back and was still.

Xais clicked her fingers. 'Take him,' she ordered the leading ape. He threw the Doctor's unconscious body over his shoulder and lurched off through the hatch and back to the ship.

d.a.m.n fool, thought Spiggot. But at least the Doctor's ill-advised bid for freedom had given him a chance to strike one for the home side. Xais had stopped in the hatchway to allow the ape to pa.s.s. Her silver face was still, the blank slanted eyes like those of an insect. He raised his blaster and aimed for her heart.

'That's it, darling,' he whispered. 'Now, don't move...'

He pulled the trigger and a bolt shot from his blaster with a crack that reverberated around the small cavern. But Xais had already turned to enter the hatch and the shot went wild, bouncing harmlessly against one of the metal struts that supported the docking port.

'A Normal!' Xais screeched, her arms thrown up in hatred.

'Find him!' she ordered her new servants. 'Find him and kill him! Kill all of the Normals!'

The ape creatures reacted to her words with enthusiasm.

They snorted and whooped and started to run towards Spiggot's hiding place. The big lugs could run for sure, he thought, despite their bulk. It was definitely time to be leaving.

He sprang from cover and raced out of the cavern. The creatures pounded after him. The first of the pack let off shots from their rifles. The high-pitched zings of the energy charges rang in Spiggot's ears. But, he reflected as he led the chase back into the corridors, however big and nasty the apes might look, they were lousy shots.

The ship used by her partners was not up to the standards Xais had set herself. It was dull and grey and dirty and badly lit.

The location of the Ogrons' quarters was made plain by the foul odour of animal excreta mixed with the heady fumes of Rigellian ale, that wafted down a pa.s.sage leading from the central aisle. It was regrettable that she would have to deal with these creatures. But she needed their strength and force of numbers to effect her plan.

The flight deck was cramped, with little s.p.a.ce between the patched-up consoles and feebly flickering instrument displays.

Despite the antiquity of its contents, the room was without a speck of grime. The control panels had been polished, the keyboards were clean. More than a suggestion of menace was lent to the scene by the positioning of two huge curved knives above the main navigation console. Underneath the knives was a framed black and white photograph of a middle-aged woman dressed in a housecoat and hat. It was t.i.tled in large black letters OUR MUM.

Xais noted that the g-stress chairs one would normally expect to find in such a s.p.a.cecraft had been ripped out. They had been replaced with two domestic armchairs. Seated in these chairs were her accomplices, the Nisbett brothers.

There was a strong family likeness apparent in the brothers.

Both were six foot five, powerfully built, with brilliantined grey hair and lumpen features that suggested ruthlessness, brutality and cunning. They wore black jackets, immaculately creased black trousers and brogues. But Eddie, the younger by eight years, although gigantic, was slender in comparison to his elder sibling Charlie, who wore a pair of black-framed spectacles that magnified his terrifying stare.

'It is good to see you again,' said Xais, stepping forward.

Eddie raised a finger to his lips and whispered, 'Be quiet.

Charlie's having his steak meal.'

Xais looked to Charlie. There was a tray on his lap, and the check-patterned plate upon it played host to a dribbling steak, accompanied by generous servings of potatoes and carrots, smothered in stodgy gravy. Charlie was munching slowly at the meal, chewing each mouthful several times before he swallowed. The hilts of a four-p.r.o.nged fork and murderously sharp knife were clasped in his podgy hands. He stared into the s.p.a.ce ahead of him as if there was n.o.body else in the room, or indeed the universe.

'There is no time for these customs,' Xais said angrily. 'We have much to discuss.'

Eddie inclined his head slightly. His thick eyebrows knotted and he repeated, a little louder, 'Charlie's having his steak meal.'

Xais was becoming impatient. 'I did not summon you here to watch you eat. The hour of atonement is at hand.'

Charlie stood abruptly, sending the tray and the food crashing to the floor. He dabbed away splashes of gravy from the sides of his mouth with a napkin and said, 'I was having my steak meal. n.o.body interrupts my steak meal.'

Xais suppressed her natural instincts, which were screaming at her to kill these ignorant idiots. A glance would be enough. She had to remind herself that they were not Normals, at least, not quite. She took a deep breath and said, 'I was unaware of the significance of this ceremony. It is one of the rites of your clan?'