Tegan looked at the ceiling for a while. She could see that there was no easy way to shake Norris out of his mood, and she appreciated something of what he must be feeling. But she had to persuade him to help himself.

'Look,' she said after consideration, 'the Doctor will be back soon. He'll know what to do.'

Norris leaned back in his chair and exhaled loudly. 'I don't see he'll be able to do much good.'

'Why not?' Tegan was getting exasperated. Then she remembered something else Norris had just said. 'And what did you mean, you found out about her? What did you find out?'

Norris did not react to Tegan's frustration or rising voice. He continued to stare at the carpet. Then abruptly, he looked up and his eyes met hers. And Tegan could see the depth of distress and the very real emotion lurking inside him.

'I found out,' he murmured quietly, 'that Vanessa Prior does not exist.'

Atkins was not bored. He had sat and watched Lord Kenilworth studying ma.n.u.scripts and volumes for hours, just as now he sat watching the Doctor go over his notes yet again.

They were in the TARDIS library, sitting on opposite sides of a reading table in a small bay between the infinite lines of bookcases. The Doctor's main focus was the notebook in which he had copied down the inscriptions from the hidden chamber of Nyssa's tomb. But round this lay concentric semi-circles of books and papers, scribbled notes and rolls of papyrus. As he went through the notebook, the Doctor would reach out, usually without looking, and pull some ancillary doc.u.ment towards him. Then he would peer through his half-moon spectacles, frown, make a hurried annotation in the margin, and push the doc.u.ment away again. Occasionally, the Doctor referred to the illuminated screen set into the tabletop, pressing areas of the gla.s.s with his finger and staring at the streams of text and pictures which flowed across the surface like lilies across a pond. But most of the time he stared at the copied inscriptions, shaking his head.

Atkins watched. He enjoyed watching academic work in progress, experienced a vicarious excitement from research. It had been years before it had occurred to him that he could join in, could learn things for himself in the same way. But he still enjoyed simply watching the process of discovery. And in the current circ.u.mstances, he was sure that any help he offered would merely impede the Doctor's progress. As it was, the Doctor seemed grateful for his presence. He would look up, say something completely incomprehensible, then smile as if he had scored a major point and continue working.

'Of course,' he said on one such occasion, smacking his palm to his forehead. 'They actually convinced Scaroth that building the pyramids would help hasten human evolution in the way he needed. So he oversaw the construction work for them.' The Doctor shook his head in disbelief.

'Staggering.' Atkins nodded in agreement, and the Doctor returned his attention to his notes.

As he watched, Atkins reflected on the way the last few days had turned out. Certainly he had not expected to be caught up in the Doctor's life to any extent when he had left to deliver the invitation. But he was beginning to gain an appreciation for the tricks Time could play, and could start to believe some of the things the Doctor had been saying about the inviolable nature of past events. 'Whatever will be, has been,' he had told Atkins at one point, and this seemed to be ratified by the way in which Kenilworth's accusations and a.s.sertions concerning Atkins' part in the expedition had subsequently been born out. He had been there. And at the same time (or was it actually earlier?) he had been in London helping Miss Warne to keep house.

Miss Warne. Atkins had thought a lot about the housekeeper while he had been away. He had thought about how he was finding that he missed her.

He had thought about how she was still poised with soup over the stove waiting for his return from the British Museum. He had thought about whether she was missing him, although at the same time he knew that she probably did not know he was away. It all depended on when he returned.

If he returned. And until he did, he would not know when it would have been. Whatever has been, will be.

He thought about Tegan too. She and the Doctor were a strangely well-matched pair. They seemed forever to be arguing, yet they also seemed so much in accord. There was a complementary synergy between them, in the way the Doctor was calm and measured while Tegan was rash and impulsive. Yet the Doctor's calm was often hurried and noisy, while his measured manner gave an impression of improvisation. And Tegan's rashness smacked of common sense, while her impulsiveness was often justified as if she had thought through her actions to a degree which belied the manner of their execution.

But it was the fact that Tegan showed her emotions so clearly, and that she brought out extremes of emotion in others which impressed Atkins the most. He had read and heard of the value of expressing one's emotions.

But Tegan was the first case study which bore out the theory. Watching her, being with her, hearing her tell people like the shop a.s.sistant who was too busy to help a potential customer just what she felt, he could begin to appreciate the value of being emotionally honest and sincere. For the first time he was realizing that he did actually have emotions which were valuable and useful rather than a waste both of energy and of time.

It was a subject, Atkins thought, as he watched the Doctor reach for a book just out of range, that he might raise with Miss Warne at one of their evening discussions. He pa.s.sed the book to the Doctor, placing it into his outstretched fumbling hand. The Doctor took it, looked up, and smiled. And Atkins felt himself return the smile.

'Careful,' said the Doctor as he returned his attention to the book, 'you'll be enjoying yourself before you know it.'

Atkins continued to smile. He was enjoying himself. He knew things were bad, that there was real danger. But he was exhilarated by the experiences he was having, enthralled at seeing the future, amazed at the things he had witnessed in Egypt. And above all, he was excited at what the future held in store.

The lounge was not large, and the splintered remains of the front door lay spread across most of the area not taken up with furniture. The TARDIS chose about the only remaining free s.p.a.ce in which to materialise, the pile of the carpet flattening as the blue box faded into existence.

Norris stared open-mouthed as the door swung open and the Doctor and Atkins emerged.

'Am I glad to see you,' Tegan said almost before they were out of the door.

'Ah, Tegan. Likewise.' The Doctor waved his rolled Panama hat distractedly. 'I'm glad you got here all right.' He nodded politely at Norris, who was sitting stiffly in his chair and blinking. 'Now whatever happens,' the Doctor said seriously to Tegan, 'they mustn't get the cobra.' He looked round the room. 'Where is it, by the way?' His voice trailed off as he surveyed the damage. His gaze came full circle and met Tegan's.

She flinched, and looked away. 'Doctor,' she said, 'they got the cobra.'

'Oh Tegan.' With an obvious effort he pulled himself to his full height, jammed his hat on his head, and started a quick tour of the room. 'Well, I suppose it's not too disastrous,' he admitted. 'Just so long as they don't get Vanessa.'

Tegan said nothing. Norris stared at the Doctor.

The Doctor closed his eyes. 'Oh no,' he said quietly. 'I can't leave you for a moment, can I?'

'Maybe it doesn't matter,' Tegan said. She did not sound convinced.

The Doctor sat down on the sofa and thrust his legs out. 'Doesn't matter?'

'Does it matter?' Atkins asked.

The Doctor shook his head. 'I don't know,' he admitted. 'But I think it probably does. I'm not sure how she fits in yet, but she's important to what's going on.'

Tegan gulped. 'But Vanessa doesn't exist,' she said.

The Doctor and Atkins exchanged glances.

'You mean, she's dead?' asked Atkins.

'No.' Norris leaned forward in his chair. 'I was telling Tegan, Vanessa literally does not exist. I wanted to get her a pa.s.sport, so we could go away for a holiday - maybe a honeymoon. But her father wouldn't let me borrow her birth certificate.'

The Doctor frowned. 'What did Vanessa say?'

'She was upset at first, then she seemed to decide she didn't need or want a pa.s.sport.'

'Well, I suppose there's nothing too suspicious in that.'

'No. But I decided she was being ha.s.sled by her father and I'd apply for one anyway. So I looked into getting a duplicate certificate. Even went to Somerset House to look up the records.'

'So?' asked Atkins.

'So, Prior's story is that he married Vanessa's mother and almost immediately Vanessa was conceived. Then his wife died in childbirth. But I can't find anyone who's met Vanessa's mother apart from Prior. I can't get Prior to tell me the same story twice about his wife, or his wedding. And I can't find any record in St Catherine's House of the marriage. Or of Vanessa's birth. I even went to the hospital where she said she was born.'

'No records there either?'

'No, Doctor. Nothing at all.' Norris looked round at them. 'Neither Vanessa's mother, nor Vanessa have ever officially existed.'

The Doctor nodded gravely. 'I think it's time we got back to Kenilworth House. Probably long past time,' he said, unlocking the TARDIS door. 'And on the way, I'll tell you what I've discovered from the inscriptions in the hidden burial chamber.'

Fragments of Inscription from the Tomb of Nephthys First Fragment (from earliest inscriptions) After the great battle, Horus had Sutekh and his sister-wife Nephthys brought before him. And despite the entreaties of his colleagues, he would not have them put to the mind-sword as that would have made him no better then they.

Instead, he imprisoned Sutekh, bound him forever in the Eye of Horus such that he could neither move nor project his mind beyond the walls of the chamber which held him. And to increase his suffering, Horus provided the equipment Sutekh would need to effect his escape: to implant his mind in another from a distance and to destroy the Pyramid of Mars. But Horus ensured that it was outside of Sutekh's reach. He had the means, but lacked the access. He knew the infinitely remote possibility of escape, and that in turn increased his despair and his punishment.

But Nephthys, Horus treated differently. He knew that she was the greater evil, the greater cunning, the greater danger. So he imprisoned her too within a great pyramid. But before she was imprisoned, he had her mind removed to another body, a frail human, and the human was mummified alive to entrap the mind of Nephthys and bind it to the failing flesh.

Then, as the human woman was entombed, Horus ripped her mind into two fragments, even as it struggled to escape. The instinct, the intuition, Horus left within the dying woman. But the reasoning, deliberate, calculating evil he removed to another vessel. He placed it within a canopic jar, sealed with an inner force which bound the half-mind within it forever. And Horus knew that the evil of Nephthys was diluted and destroyed and her terror would never again awaken.

Second Fragment (from later inscriptions) But when the robbers stole into the tomb, despite the traps and puzzles left by Horus, greatest of the ancient Osirans, the canopic jar which contained the essence and strength of Nephthys' evil was cracked. Fearing that her mind might yet escape, the high priests followed the wisdom of Horus as laid down for them in the writings of Isis and pa.s.sed through the years.

The G.o.ds arranged another receptacle. And this was another human. She appeared in the appointed place at the time foretold. And she was without sin or blemish. Her spotless mind was a perfect container for the evil of Nephthys. She was imbued with the spirit of the Queen of Evil, and it was bound into her by the power of the stars. Then the new-born Child of Orion was laid to rest in the outer chamber, beyond the firstborn of Orion's earthly children. And she slept the sleep of the d.a.m.ned.

(Translated by the Doctor, from his own transcriptions)

Chapter Fourteen.

Tegan, Atkins and Norris listened in silence as the Doctor finished the recitation from his notes.

Tegan and Atkins had filled Norris in on the background on the way to the TARDIS library. He had taken a little convincing that the Doctor, Tegan and Atkins had travelled in time, but the apparently impossible inner dimensions of the TARDIS and the events he had already witnessed that night left him little room for scepticism.

Now they sat round the reading table, the Doctor's notes and papers strewn over its surface, and looked at each other. n.o.body seemed to want to be the first to venture an opinion.

Eventually Tegan spoke. 'Why Nyssa, Doctor?' Her voice was uncharacteristically quiet. 'And how did they know where to find her?'

The Doctor shook his head. 'I don't really know. There's obviously a temporal paradox, probably caused by the interference of the lode stone sarcophagus with the TARDIS's relative dimensional stabiliser.' His voice gathered an enthusiasm which belied the gravity of the subject matter. 'My guess would be that it plucked us out of the vortex, and somehow signalled the mind of Nephthys, the intelligent, reasoning side of her mind. She in turn influenced the unpleasant Egyptian gentleman we met at the British Museum, and he sent Nyssa back in time to the point where they were expecting her.'

'But why Nyssa? Why not you or me. Or anyone?'

The Doctor flicked through his notebook. 'It mentions how the receptacle had to be without blemish. I suspect they were trying to recreate the exact state of the canopic jar, which probably excluded external influence and energy rather like the Zero Room here in the TARDIS did. Nyssa would have been ideal.' He set down the notebook and leaned forward across the table, chin resting on his hands, and eyes alive with thought. 'Think of it, Tegan, Nyssa is from the Traken Union. For all her life the Keeper and the Source ruled such that there was no concept even of evil. What more pure mind could one hope to find anywhere in the universe? Nyssa must have been ideal for their purposes.'

Atkins coughed politely. 'Er, Doctor, I wonder if you could clarify one small point for us?'

'Just the one?' asked Norris quietly.

The Doctor nodded. 'If I can.'

'You said that Horus created the receptacle, the original canopic jar, in order to imprison the mind of Nephthys.'

'Part of the mind, yes.'

'But then you said, just now, that it was Nephthys that brought the TARDIS to Victorian London, and who in effect found Nyssa in order to replace the jar.'

Tegan could see what Atkins was asking. 'That's a point,' she said. 'Why would Nephthys provide another prison?'

The Doctor looked at them across the table. 'Horus was long gone, him and the rest of the Osirans,' he said. 'The jar was cracked, and I think just a tiny fragment of Nephthys' mind was able to leak out. Enough to take control of a servant or agent, probably someone already with plans in line with her own objectives. Also, enough to detect the TARDIS and draw it to the British Museum.'

'But why bother?' Norris asked. 'Why go out and find your own new prison?'

The Doctor steepled his fingers. 'Say you were in the same position.' 'G.o.d forbid.' 'No, just consider for a moment. The high priests know the jar is cracked, and they will certainly find a replacement of some sort. Yes?'

Norris agreed.

'Wouldn't you rather, if you could manage it,' the Doctor asked quietly, 'find that replacement for them?'

Norris gave a short laugh. 'Not much of a choice, though, is it? Unless -' He stopped short, the smile freezing on his face.

'Unless?' prompted the Doctor.

But it was Atkins who answered. 'Unless you provide a prison you know you can escape from,' he said.

'Exactly.'

'But, how?' Tegan asked.

The Doctor shrugged. 'I wish I knew. The Egyptians and Prior are acting on impulses seeded thousands of years ago and pa.s.sed on. The power seems to be focused through the relics, which our Egyptian chum is now collecting. Somehow they seem imbued with some of the instinctive power of Nephthys. I can only a.s.sume that she is working on some incredibly long-term masterplan.' He leaned back in the chair, swivelling it slightly to and fro. 'But I do know one thing.'

'What's that?'

The Doctor's face was grim, his voice equally grave. 'Somehow we've been caught up in the plan. Or perhaps we were always part of it. When Nyssa awakens, which will be very soon now, Nephthys, the most dangerous and evil of the Osirans, will be born again.'

For a long while, n.o.body spoke.

Then the Doctor stood up. 'Come along,' he said, grinning widely. 'We're nearly there.' And he started towards the library door.