'I fear the darkness,' said one of the Ogrons.

'Yes,' his comrade murmured. 'One ugly girl is not important. Masters will not care. We will go now.'

Romana heard them moving away. She waited a few moments and emerged from hiding. Her only chance now, she knew, was to get K9 operational again. His nose laser would make short work of the boulders blocking the door of the TARDIS. She took the toolkit from the inside pocket of her jacket and got back to work. Perhaps it would be a better idea to cross his geostatic traction links with his power accelerator...

Thus engrossed, Romana was unaware of the large, lumbering figure moving through the shadows towards her.

9.

The Plotters.

-h! A friendly face, at last!'

'A Romana jumped at the sound of the distinctively plummy voice and gave a sigh of relief as the new arrival revealed himself. For this was an infinitely more rea.s.suring presence than a returning Ogron.

'Mr Stokes! You made me jump!'

He waved a hand. 'I must apologize. I didn't intend to give you a fright.' Romana noted the genuine contrition in his voice. He walked into a shaft of light and she saw the streaks of grime that covered his big sweaty face and the disarray of his clothing. His suit, which had never been immaculate, was torn in places and the collar of his shirt was askew. 'Alas,' he went on, 'I was overcome by enthusiasm at the sight of your prettiness.'

He blew out his cheeks and sat down on a ledge that formed a perfect seat in the rock. 'What is that curious object?' he asked, indicating the inert K9.

'Never mind about him,' Romana said hurriedly. 'Tell me what happened to you.'

Stokes wiped his forehead and smeared an even longer greasy streak across it. 'It was horrifying, my dear,' he said. 'I was ruminating in my cell when I heard screaming and shouting. And shots. Then the door of my cell opened by itself and they were telling us to evacuate. For a moment, I thought I'd landed myself in the middle of a break-out. Until I saw one of those brutes with the guns.' He shuddered. 'Well, of course, everyone started running for the escape capsules or the transmat. Including myself. Except I got lost, didn't I?'

'You know the station well enough to find your way about, surely?' asked Romana.

'Oh yes, I know it very well, when the lifts are working.

But all those stairs!' He took a dirty handkerchief from his pocket and coughed into it. 'Goodness, yes, with those hairy monsters lumbering about. I haven't run like that for many years.'

Romana felt he deserved an explanation. 'Yes, well these creatures are called Ogrons. They're a slave race. At present they appear to be working for the Nisbetts.'

Stokes's red face blanched white in less than two seconds.

'The Nisbetts? The psychotic brothers?'

Romana shrugged. 'I suppose so.'

The artist lurched to his feet and started to wring his hands.

'And I didn't believe things could get any worse! This is appalling news!' He looked about at the catacombs. 'I don't know whether my bladder can stand all this!'

'I hope it can,' said Romana. 'Because I think the Doctor's been captured by them. And we have to rescue him.'

A thought struck her. 'And Xais is involved as well. She's somehow reincarnated herself using that mask you made for her.'

'I won't say that's any more impossible than anything else that's happened today,' Stokes said. 'In fact, it seems almost rea.s.suringly ordinary.' He shook his head. 'Oh no, my dear,'

he told Romana, 'I'm afraid I'm not trained for this sort of thing.'

'No doubt.' Romana had to admit that Stokes was more of a liability than an a.s.set. 'But I'm afraid we've no choice. We have to rescue the Doctor.'

Stokes backed away. 'I don't think so, my dear. I know he meant a lot to you, but if the Doctor has fallen foul of the Nisbetts, there is every likelihood that his internal organs are now scattered in small gristly portions. And I, for one, have no intention of joining him in that fate. I've often stated that the kidneys belong inside the body.'

He straightened his collar and started to walk away.

'Goodbye, my dear. I hope that your venture brings you success.'

Romana watched him depart. 'It's best if we stick together,'

she called after him. 'Stokes!' But he had gone, without a backward glance.

She returned her attentions to K9. The breakthrough was near, she was certain. A green light showed that his power distributor links were almost powered up. Theoretically, he could come back on line at any moment, as long as nothing else had been damaged.

Stokes came crashing back through the catacombs. Romana jolted upright, terrified that he had led the Ogrons to her.

'What are you doing?' she whispered as he stumbled towards her.

He pointed dumbly behind him. 'It's coming,' he gasped at last. 'One of those great hairy Orgons.'

'Ogrons,' Romana corrected.

'Whatever they're called, it's right behind me,' he blurted.

'I b.u.mped into the blessed thing, it's huge, covered in long filthy coa.r.s.e hair. Ugh!'

'You idiot!' cried Romana as they heard the sound of approaching steps. 'You've led it here!' She looked around but there was nowhere to run. The footsteps grew nearer.

Spiggot emerged into the light, smoothing back his long permed hair and trying not to look too ruffled.

'All right there,' he greeted them confidently and lit a cigarette. 'I think it's about time we got this mess sorted out, don't you?'

Xais observed her allies closely.

Eddie was looking up at the high ceiling of level two of the station. Inscribed in gilt letters was a scroll that detailed the achievements of the Uva Beta Uva state since its foundation almost two hundred years ago.

'Look at that! We could strip that lot, make a fair few bob.'

He squinted up at the letters. 'I can't make it out.'

Charlie glowered at him. 'It's in Latin,' he said.

'What's that, then?'

'It's the language the Romans used to speak. Besides, three grand of synthigold ain't nothing on three mill of the big B.'

'Quite.' Xais gestured ahead. 'Let us hurry, please.'

As they walked on, she looked approvingly at the deserted corridors and pa.s.sageways and at their escort of two Ogrons.

'Perhaps I was hasty in my opinion of your new slaves. They have done well to clear this place of the Normals.'

Charlie nodded. 'They're not bad lads.'

'Where did you come by them?'

Eddie answered. 'After the firm was broken up, we were on the look out for some new muscle. We got them cheap, in a job lot from the labour pits.'

'What Edward means to say,' said Charlie, 'is that we purchased the Ogrons for a compet.i.tive price from the auctions on Gh.e.l.luris. Their previous owners had run into a spot of bother they were planning to invade the galaxy but some bloke blew half of them sky high and they had to sell up.'

'Charlie got us the ship into the bargain,' said Eddie. 'It used to belong to a warfleet, you know.'

'Oh really?' said Xais.

'Yes. But it isn't a patch on what we're used to, though. We had a luxury cla.s.s star yacht, you know. The Stellar Caprice Stellar Caprice.

Gone like all the rest of our stuff when we were gra.s.sed up.'

Charlie stopped and turned. 'Eddie, you know I don't like you talking about the old days.'

They had now almost reached the control centre. Xais had another question to ask. 'The man who betrayed you. You never met him, yet you trusted him. I always wondered. Why was this?'

'He was a good contact. Plenty of inside knowledge. We communicated in code, on pirate satellites. He always fixed things for us, told us if the coppers were sniffing round. In return, he got his cut. Thirty per cent, beamed down the credit line to an untraceable Platinumtown bank account. He called himself Sentinel.'

Charlie's hands clenched. 'The lying sc.u.m put the law on to us. He must have got greedy for the price on our heads. We had to break up the firm and run. None of our mates got away.

Tony, Frankie, Dylan the leg. All gone to the particle reverser.'

'It is good that you understand hatred for this Sentinel,'

said Xais as they reached the door of the control centre.

'Hatred is the purest, strongest, most beautiful force in the universe.'

The door to computer control was flung open from inside and Pyerpoint staggered out. She'd been wondering where he'd got to. He straightened himself and their eyes met.

'Well?' he said with surprising calm. 'I'm waiting for an explanation.'

Xais threw her head back and laughed. 'Gentlemen. Allow me to introduce High Archon Pyerpoint.'

'The reversing judge,' Charlie said. 'You pa.s.sed sentence on my firm, old man.'

Pyerpoint faced him squarely. 'I would do so again. It is my duty.'

Eddie reached inside his jacket and pulled out a compact black blaster. 'Can I have him, Charlie?' he pleaded.

Xais stepped forward. 'No. I have good reason to hate this man also. It was he who sentenced me to death.' She stared at Pyerpoint. 'I want him to suffer ultimate humiliation before he dies.'

'Why not?' said Charlie. He came closer to Pyerpoint and fixed him with his fiercest stare. 'Bnorg,' he ordered the nearest Ogron. 'Take this old fellow back to the ship and put him in with the other one. In the guest suite.'

The Ogron grabbed Pyerpoint by the scruff of his neck. 'No guest suite on ship, Mr Charles,' he said, confused.

'The crew quarters.'

Bnorg nodded and grunted, his huge yellow teeth and rotting gums visible as he gave the Ogron equivalent of a laugh. 'Guest suite! It is a funny joke!'

'Shut up and obey your orders,' Charlie said. Bnorg quietened immediately and set off back down the corridor, almost dragging Pyerpoint along behind him.

Xais returned her attentions to the door of computer control. 'Now, to business. We must set a course for Planet Eleven.'

'Hold on. Why don't we take our own ship?'

Xais said patiently, 'No. You would not be able to land on its boggy surface. We will use this station to reach Eleven, transmat down to the survey base on the surface, and then release the security on their emergency launchpad.'

Charlie was pleased. 'You've got this well planned. Good.'

The Doctor had spent about three-quarters of an hour under the watchful eyes of the sweet-toothed Ogron and he was becoming bored. He took another look around the mess. In a corner stood a large food dispenser, of the kind that normally displays a variety of items from which the user makes a selection. This one appeared to contain nothing but meat pasties.

'Excuse me. This machine. There's nothing in it but pasties.'

The Ogron nodded. 'We like pasties.'

'Good job, really.' The Doctor squinted at something written in small alien script further along the wall. 'Product of the Kathok empire,' he read. 'Hah. Haven't seen one of these for years. I think your masters have been taken for a ride.'

'What do you say?' Gjork asked, puzzled.

The Doctor was glad of the opportunity to demonstrate his superior knowledge, even to an audience this limited and uncomprehending.

'The Kathok empire,' he explained, 'was an invention of sc.r.a.p merchants in the fourth quadrant. They'd had a few wars in that area, and were left with bits of old s.p.a.ceships and not a lot of people left to sell them to. So they jammed all the bits together, spun some tale about a fallen empire, and sold them off to gullible souls in surrounding s.p.a.ce. All very underhand.