Everything I have learned about how Time works, about my - our - relationship with it tells me that's the case.' He turned away, looking back at the TARDIS, lying wedged against a dead tree while the river Nile washed round its base.

'So?'

'So.' The Doctor turned back to Tegan. He smiled a sad half-smile and placed a hand on her shoulder. 'What if I'm wrong?'

They stood in silence for a while. Then the Doctor set off across the sand towards the pyramids. 'Come along, we've a long walk ahead of us.'

Atkins shrugged and followed. Tegan waited a moment before she too started walking.

'It is time.' Amosis stood in the doorway.

Sitamun looked up as he spoke. She had been washing Nyssa's feet, now she dried them quickly with a rough cloth, and cleared away the bowl and water.

'Already?' Nyssa asked. The last day had been a waking nightmare. She had tried to leave the temple, but each time been escorted back by priests with short swords. She had a.s.sumed she had some time - perhaps years even - before whatever ritual fate awaited her was enacted. But she had no doubt from Amosis' tone and his words what he meant.

'The high priest will escort you to the procession,' Amosis said. 'Everything will be according to the Spells for Coming Forth by Day Spells for Coming Forth by Day.'

'Really? At least it sounds nice.' Nyssa tried to sound defiant and sarcastic.

She tried to sound like Tegan. But her words seemed to herself more like those of a child.

Her last attempts at defiance ended when Amosis said: 'It is also known as the Book of the Dead Book of the Dead.'

In the following silence, Sitamun bowed to Nyssa. 'I shall watch the ceremony though I may not attend it. And I shall pray to Anubis for your ba, your soul,' she said. Nyssa could see that the handmaiden's eyes were moist, but even so she was surprised when Sitamun leaned suddenly forward and kissed her on the cheek. 'May you heart weigh heavy, Nyssa,'

she said. The she turned and ran from the room.

Nyssa stared after her. Sitamun had never called her by her real name before.

As she watched the doorway, a figure appeared from outside, paused silhouetted on the threshold, then stepped into the room. He was short, like all the Egyptians Nyssa had met, but quite broadly built. His head was shaved and he wore a ceremonial chain of office round his neck hanging over his bare chest.

'You?' Nyssa gasped.

The newcomer looked surprised. 'My G.o.ddess? We have not met before. I am the high priest of Nephthys.'

'Ra.s.sul,' Nyssa said quietly, 'I know. We may not have met before,' Nyssa told him, 'but we shall. We shall.'

'I doubt it,' Ra.s.sul said. 'Today is a day for celebration. Today is the day of your funeral.'

Nyssa thought for a word or phrase he might remember in the years ahead.

She struggled to remember some detail that might hit home or make an impression. That might hurt. 'I have heard it said that a father should not outlive his children,' she said quietly.

It certainly had an effect. Ra.s.sul swayed on his heels, the shock flaring in his eyes. 'I would not pray for your father,' he said at last, 'but for his daughter.'

The face was enormous, jutting up from the sand as if dropped from above into the desert. They could see it from miles away, slowly looming larger as they approached.

'That, I do recognize,' Atkins said as they got close enough to begin to make out the details of the features - the line of the cheek and the fractured nose.

'The Great Sphinx,' the Doctor agreed.

'But, it's buried.' Tegan could recognize the face too now, but without the huge lion's body to support it, the nature of the statue was completely changed.

They walked round it once. 'People have been digging it out ever since it was built,' the Doctor said. 'Whenever that was.'

'You mean you don't know?' Tegan teased.

'Well, not exactly. Always meant to pop back and see. But the trouble with being a Time Lord is that you never seem to have the time.' He grinned and motioned for them to continue towards the still distant pyramids. As Tegan approached he put an arm round her shoulder. 'The Egyptians call the Great Sphinx Abu el Hob Abu el Hob,' he told her. 'The Father of Terror,' Atkins said quietly as he joined them.

'Yes,' the Doctor seemed surprised. 'A rather literal translation, but accurate nonetheless.'

The wrappings were tight and smelled of resin. Nyssa struggled, trying to tear her limbs from the priests who held them pressed against her body.

But as the embalmers continued their work, seemingly oblivious to Nyssa's shouts and struggles, she felt her power of movement more and more restricted. Sitamun had not returned, and Nyssa felt alone, helpless, and terrified. Ra.s.sul stood watching as the embalmers completed their work.

Only Nyssa's head was now free of the linen wrappings. Amosis was behind her, and she twisted to see what he was doing. He seemed to be mixing powders in a small bowl. As she strained to watch, he dripped some liquid from a small earthenware bottle on to the powder. Immediately it started to bubble and smoke. Amosis held the bowl away from him, taking care not to inhale the fumes, and turned to Ra.s.sul.

Ra.s.sul took the smoking bowl. He too avoided breathing in the smoke which was now drifting across the room. Nyssa could smell the pungent aroma, it was like the ceremonial incense burned on Traken at religious ceremonies. As Ra.s.sul brought the bowl closer she tried to pull away. But her entire body was held firm within the wrappings.

'The start of eternity,' Ra.s.sul said quietly as he held the bowl one-handed under Nyssa's chin. 'Drink deep of the fumes of oblivion and know what it is to join Osiris in his netherworld of darkness.'

Nyssa tried to keep her head upright, to pull her face away from the smoke rising from the bowl. But with his free hand, Ra.s.sul grabbed her hair and forced her to look down into the fumes.

'No, the Doctor will stop you.' Nyssa hoped she sounded confident, but she doubted the Doctor would find her now. 'He always stops people like you.'

She struggled for a moment, shaking her head and trying to pull away. But already she could feel consciousness slipping from her.

'No, please -'

Nyssa's eyes closed, the smoke stinging under her eyelids.

'Tell me about the Doctor.' Ra.s.sul's voice floated through the mist, quiet and reasonable.

The smoke was her world, and she felt herself drifting into a deep sleep.

The sounds and smells of the room around her, including her own voice as she obeyed Ra.s.sul's command, floated into the distance. Her last thought as she lost consciousness, her last thought for millennia, was that wherever she was going, she might find her father.

From his expeditions with Lord Kenilworth, and from general interest, Atkins knew a little of the history and geography of Egypt. When Kenilworth had first started his excursions, obsessed with the notion of making new and exciting discoveries, Atkins had been the only other member of the party. While he was not one to show overt appreciation or emotion, some of his employer's enthusiasm and pa.s.sion had rubbed off. Atkins had pa.s.sed many of the lonely evenings in Cairo hotels, while Kenilworth tried vainly to drum up financial support, reading through some of his employer's textbooks and reference works on the subject. If Kenilworth had noticed his manservant's increased interest and erudition, he had been polite enough not to mention it. But he had taken more and more time and trouble to include Atkins in the running of the expeditions. Lady Kenilworth seemed content to leave them to their play, her interest in travel and things Egyptian being limited to her desire to be near her husband.

When he had, sadly, been forced to suggest that Atkins look after Lady Kenilworth and the London house while he was away on his latest expedition, Atkins had secretly been devastated. But Lady Kenilworth was recovering from a fever and unable to travel, so she needed the support of her butler as well as her housekeeper. Atkins was sure it was for rea.s.surance and because of her ladyship's illness rather than any slight on the abilities of the supremely capable Miss Warne.

Atkins was pleased he had been able to offer some small a.s.sistance to the Doctor by translating Abu el Hob Abu el Hob. He had felt the same suppressed tremor of delight at the Doctor's appreciation and surprise as when he had first been able to offer informed advice to Kenilworth. So it was in a lighter mood, all problematic thoughts of travelling through the ages and across the continents put aside, that he followed the Doctor and the strange Miss Tegan.

He walked proud, bold and upright, and wondered if perhaps he could remove his jacket. After some deliberation he decided that it would probably be permissible, provided of course he did not loosen his necktie or collar. He carried his jacket over his arm, and wondered whether the Doctor, in his white sweater and long frock coat was not beginning to feel the heat.

'Do you know where we're going?' Miss Tegan asked the Doctor.

The Doctor nodded. 'Of course. I took the precaution of ascertaining from Lord Kenilworth where the tomb was.'

'And where is it?'

The Doctor stopped, and Atkins caught them up as he pointed to a small pyramid. It stood alone, smaller and closer than the main pyramids, nestled in a hollow as if it had been dug out of the desert. Unlike the other pyramids, which gleamed and shone in the bright sunlight, this pyramid was jet black It seemed almost to absorb the light rather than to reflect it.

As Atkins looked, he fancied he could just make out small figures gathered at the base of the pyramid. Some sort of welcoming party for an ant-tiny procession which was making its way slowly across the desert sands towards the structure.

'I rather fancy that it's over there,' the Doctor said.

There were eighteen oxen, each steaming hot breath through its flared nostrils and kicking up dust from the sandy floor. The sledge they dragged through the dunes bore a single inlaid casket. Behind the dust-cloud followed the priests and then the mourners.

The shrieking and ululation wailed itself to a halt as the oxen drew up outside the black pyramid. They stamped and blew as the priests surrounded the sledge. The priests lifted the heavy casket and carried it ceremonially to the high doorway into the pyramid. The step up from the sand to the floor level formed a natural dais. The coffin was first lowered to the floor, then raised upright on the threshold so that the stylised female figure looked out over the a.s.sembled crowd.

As at most funerals, almost all of the mourners were hired professionals.

They tore their hair, smote their chests and shrieked as if the coffin contained Osiris himself. There was only one person present who could be termed a friend. Standing alone, crying quietly at the back of the mourners, was the handmaiden Sitamun. Alone until she was joined by the Doctor, Tegan and Atkins.

She watched them walk out of the desert and stand at the back of the crowd. Their clothes and their conversation were strange - just as the G.o.ddess's had been strange when she first joined Sitamun and Amosis in the anteroom of the temple. Sitamun edged closer and listened, though she understood little of what the newcomers were saying.

'I'm afraid it looks as though we may be too late,' Atkins pointed to the sarcophagus standing upright in the pyramid entrance. 'That is the casket in which your friend was incarcerated, is it not?'

The Doctor nodded grimly. 'Looks like Blinovitch was right after all,' he said quietly. 'Still, it was worth a shot.'

'A few hours, that's all,' Tegan wiped a tear from her cheek. 'A few sodding hours earlier and we could have stopped them.'

'No, Tegan, no.' The Doctor patted her shoulder. 'It had already happened when we decided to come here. The web of time has crystallized at this node, it might as well be set in stone.'

'So what do we do?'

'Well, we'll just have to try something else. We still have a couple of options, and we're no worse off now than we were before we came.'

Tegan was not convinced. 'It's just, you know - being so close and yet.' She searched for a way to express her frustration, anger and grief. She gave up. 'Oh, rabbits,' she said.

'I am afraid I follow very little of this,' Atkins confessed as they watched the priests fuss round the coffin fifty yards away. 'But I'm not sure how rabbits will help. Unless you are planning some new feat of temporal prestidigitation?'

'I'm afraid not,' the Doctor confessed.

'Why don't we just go back to yesterday and try again to save your friend?'

'Blooming Blinovitch,' Tegan told him.

The Doctor tried to explain more. 'The link between the time zones - between us and the here and now, if you like - has already been established. Probably by the very fact that Nyssa was brought here. So from now on time moves on at the same relative rate. We spend a day hunting for Nyssa, and a day pa.s.ses in this time. It's as if the two times, yours and Nyssa's, are joined together by a steel rod, so you can't move one without adjusting the other by the exact same amount.'

'And why is that?'

This threw the Doctor for a second. 'Why? Er, well according to Blinovitch it's something to do with temporal dynamics and their relationship to the real world envelope. But I think it's really because otherwise things would just be too easy.'

Atkins considered. 'So we really are too late.'

The Doctor did not answer immediately. He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked down at the sand at his feet. Then he raised his head and looked Atkins in the eye. 'That depends on what for.'

They held each other's gaze for a long moment. Then the Doctor flashed a sudden smile, turning abruptly to the young woman who had moved so she was standing next to Atkins. 'How do you do,' he said, his teeth gleaming white in the sun, 'I'm the Doctor. How can we help?'

The woman hesitated, looking from the Doctor to each of his companions in turn. Eventually she asked: 'You are friends of the G.o.ddess?'

They looked at her blankly.

'Of Nyssa?'

The most senior priests removed the lid of the casket, leaving the base and the mummy inside standing in the pyramid doorway. The mummy itself was not completely wrapped. The head was still free of bandages, lolled to one side as if in sleep, dark hair falling in loose curls about the linen shoulders.

At the back of the crowd of mourners, Tegan turned away, her hands to her mouth.

'Oh G.o.d,' she gasped. 'Doctor, I can see her face.'