The Doctor and Lavarre emerged into a featureless white void, which seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see. The Doctor turned to look for the door, but that too had vanished.
"Impressive, isn't it?" smiled Lavarre, folding his hand in front of him. One of the hands contained a small pistol. He wasn't taking any chances now. The Doctor didn't look capable of tackling him, and he had little desire to kill him now, but it might become necessary to disable him in some way.
"Very. I can see now why you needed so much taranium. A bubble like this in the vortex would require a considerable amount even just to keep it stable, but this..." he gestured around him. "It is impressive, yes."
Lavarre nodded, looking pleased with himself. "Thank you."
"It's just a pity you couldn't have found a better use for your talents. You were quite a temporal engineer before you took to politics, weren't you? Top of the class, as I recall."
"You're too modest, Doctor. I was second in the class." He pointed at the Doctor. "You were top."
The Doctor shook his head. "I never completed the course at that time."
Lavarre smiled slowly in remembrance. "That's right. You were expelled, weren't you?"
"Sent down, actually."
"Oh yes," he sneered. "Someone from your background wouldn't have been expelled, would they? But it caused a stink, anyway. Breaking into the examiners' office to sneak a look at the mid-term papers?"
"It wasn't for me."
Lavarre grinned nastily. "Of course. You did it for some silly girl, didn't you? Your hearts did tend to rule your head back then."
"I never told them that," the Doctor insisted.
"I know," Lavarre replied. "You took the flack all by yourself, didn't you? A perfect gentleman, as usual. No, I heard all about it from Koschei afterwards."
The Doctor's expression hardened. "She would have failed otherwise. Kicked out of the academy. Her family would have been ruined. I couldn't have that."
"She came from quite an obscure background, didn't she? Her family was very lower-class, as I recall."
"They'd fallen on hard times. That's not the same thing."
"Hard times... they were criminals!"
"Eccentrics. Harmless. Well," he considered, "Mostly harmless. Derided because their views and lifestyle didn't fit in with everyone else's." He allowed himself a soft smile. "That's why I liked them..."
"That wasn't the only reason why you liked them!" Lavarre smirked, tapping his chin with a finger. "What was her name? I know she changed it to some silly pseudonym when she left Gallifrey. Something to do with flowers, wasn't it? Begonia? Rose?" He giggled. "Daffodil?"
The Doctor sighed, weary of Lavarre's attempts at humour. "Lavarre, I'd love to stand around and reminisce, but I'm more interested in thwarting whatever grubby little trick you've got in store for me, and then going back to help out my friends against whatever nastiness you've unleashed upon them."
"My dear Doctor," replied Lavarre steely, "I'll take as much time as I like."
"And I thought you were the one that was in a hurry," he said sarcastically.
"Here, Doctor," and Lavarre waved his arms around him, "the passage of time has little meaning. We have all the time in the world, quite literally! More than enough to discuss the good old days, certainly!"
"More like you wanted to watch me squirm," he snapped, then folded his arms and turned and gazed into the distance. "Well, prepare to be disappointed."
"Oh, I won't be!" he warned. "By the time we've finished my little game..."
"Game?" The Doctor swung round, and began patting his pockets. "Oh well, if it's a game you want to pass the time..."
He produced a small pocket chess-set and opened it out, holding it up.
Lavarre looked at the board closely. "You still play, then?" he asked slyly.
"On occasion. White or black?"
"I always prefer black."
"What a surprise." The Doctor nudged a pawn forward. "Sorry it's plain ordinary chess and not Sheel. That board must be in my other coat. I understand you have a magnificent set in your study."
Lavarre chuckled, and moved a piece as well. "Who've you been talking to, Doctor? Or did your spy tell you?"
"Spy?" The Doctor moved another piece.
"Yes, you know. The robot. D41. Or at least, the man pretending to be a robot." Lavarre made another move.
"Really," said the Doctor mildly.
"Yes. How very clever of you Doctor! I forgot you had friends in Kaldor City. My fault for not checking things out properly. But I'm afraid, as your friend wasn't very forthcoming, I instructed my robots to give him a thorough work-over. I imagine after that, he'll want to stop pretending to be a robot. That's if he recovers from having his arms and legs removed." He looked up from the board and smiled. "And of course, being robots, they won't use anaesthetic. Check."
"Hmmm," said the Doctor, seemingly intent on the game before him. "I'm quite sure he'll be fine." The Doctor moved again.
"It's no more than he deserves. He caused me a considerable amount of trouble. Like swapping pictures on poor Gydeon. I knew something was amiss when he went all the way over to, where was it?"
"Alabama." The Doctor frowned as Lavarre took another of his pieces. This wasn't going quite the way he planned.
"Yes, that's it. You know, after that, I personally entered all the co-ordinates myself. I couldn't believe it when he told me what had happened. Incidentally, just who is Morton Dill, exactly?"
"No one in particular. Not worth your trouble, anyway."
Lavarre shook his head. "Poor Gydeon. What plans I had for him! And then look who you put him up against!" He made another move. "Do you still bear me a grudge for attempting to recruit young Ace, or whatever it is she calls herself, all those centuries ago?"
"No," he admitted. "I knew she'd never join you." The Doctor's finger hovered over the board, considering each of his remaining pieces carefully. He nudged one across.
"She was tempted." Lavarre beamed. Victory was in sight. He took another of the Doctor's pieces.
"No," he stated. "She was just stringing you along to get closer to you." The Doctor looked up at Lavarre briefly and smiled. "Worked very well in the end, didn't it? Set your little organisation back centuries. A pity we didn't stop you then, but..." The Doctor made a move and waved a finger over the board. "Check mate to me in five, I think you'll find."
Lavarre glared at the board in disbelief, saw that the Doctor was right and then slapped it from his hand with a snarl, scattering the pieces across the void.
"Temper," chided the Doctor.
"All right, Doctor, no more games. Let's get it over with." he snarled.
The Doctor's face became serious again, and he folded his hands in front of him expectantly. "Very well, then. Do what you will. I'm quite ready."
"Huh!" Lavarre grunted, and turned away. He closed his eyes, brow furrowed in concentration, and made motions in the air with his hands and the void before them began to flicker and darken. Images began to form, and there was a faint hint of sound in the air, like a rushing wind.
"You use this method for all your travels, Lavarre?"
"All," he replied shortly.
"What about a TARDIS?"
"It's built into the house. Or what's left of it is."
"That would explain your defences."
"Quite."
"Yes, I'm very impressed... go anywhere, at any time, not having to worry about parking or chameleon circuit failure or anything... even check the lay of the land before venturing out." Lavarre didn't respond, still intent on his work. The Doctor cleared his throat. "There is one thing I'd like to know... I said, there is one thing-"
"I heard!" he snapped suddenly. "What is it?"
"Why you didn't use it to go back to save your wife and family? I'd have thought you would have tried. You've more than adequately displayed a blatant disregard for the laws of time in the past."
That made Lavarre stop what he was doing. He opened his eyes and turned around slowly, a terrible expression across his face.
"I'm fully aware of the laws of time, Doctor, and the consequences of attempting to alter the flow, believe me..." he said in a quiet voice strained with emotion.
"You speak with experience, then."
"Oh yes," he breathed. "I'm no clumsy meddler, Doctor. There's a science to playing the time streams like this. It took me decades to work out my scheme for tonight. Decades..."
"But you never worked out one to save your wife... did you?" he asked quietly.
Lavarre's face became stony as he struggled to contain the memories. "I tried. And I tried. For a century or more, I tried. Two regenerations it cost me, as well."
"Only two?" the Doctor uttered a small sound of disapproval. "You obviously didn't care that much for her!"
A tempestuous look came over Lavarre's face and he suddenly lashed out at the Doctor, a hard stinging slap across the face that rocked the Doctor back and took his glasses off, sending them clattering to the floor. When the Doctor touched his chin, there was blood on it, and his jaw began to throb.
Lavarre's face was almost as white as the void with anger. He was literally shaking with fury.
"I cared, Doctor. I cared a lot. Every day for a hundred years, I tried to save her. To bring her back. But I failed. Every time, I failed." He closed his eyes and swallowed with an effort. "Once, just once, I actually got her back to the house. But the filthy scum had infected her with a virus, and within five minutes of being taken from the dungeons of the Capitol, she died." He wiped a shaking hand at his eyes. "And she vanished. But I had her back for five minutes, Doctor. Five minutes!" he choked. He took a second to steady himself, then slowly raised a shaking fist towards the Doctor's face. "So don't accuse me of not trying, or by Rassilon, I'll tear you apart with my bare hands here and now..."
The Doctor didn't say anything for a moment, rubbing at a thin trickle of blood from his face between his forefinger and thumb. Then he stooped and picked up his glasses, huffed on them for a second, and rubbed them with his scarf. When he put them back on, his face was oddly sympathetic.
"I understand now. Thank you."
Lavarre blinked. "'Thank you'?" Lavarre started to laugh, to roar with laughter. There was a maniacal edge to it. "Doctor, you're a card! Still playing your mind-games even up to the death!"
The Doctor simply shrugged.
Lavarre's laughter started to dry up, and he produced a handkerchief to wipe at his eyes. "Oh dear, oh dear... y'know, I'm almost going to miss you. Sparring partners of your calibre are so hard to find these days."
"I imagine the High Council will continue to give you a problem or two."
"Pah! Unimaginative blunderers, the lot of them!"
"You went back and dealt with the ones responsible for..." he didn't finish the sentence, he didn't need to. Lavarre's laughter ceased immediately.
"Oh yes, I got them all back in the end. It took time, but I had my revenge." He stabbed a finger at the Doctor. "And with you dead, my revenge will be complete."
"Then you can die a happy man, eh?" the Doctor observed wryly.
"Ha! Doctor, there's plenty of life left in me yet - thanks to you! I'd hoped to pass the mantle on to one of my young proteges, but since you've seen fit to have most of them exterminated, and since the majority of those that are left are no longer trustworthy, I'll just have to carry on as before and rebuild for the future." He grinned savagely. "Didn't reckon on that, did you?"
The Doctor just raised an eyebrow. "I think perhaps you underestimate that young lady, Lucylla. I don't approve of all her ideas, but her hearts are in the right place. Perhaps with a little assistance..."
"No, Doctor," Lavarre shook his head firmly. "She'll be as dead as you will be before this night is through. Her, and her friends. And anyone else who gets in my way."
He turned back to the void. "Now then... your death. Where was I?"
***
Benny gaped into the wide muzzle of the pistol, not for the first time this evening totally nonplussed by events. 'He's going to shoot me!' her mind screamed.
"Duck," said Wayne calmly.
Benny ducked - they all ducked. Wayne fired. There was an ear-splitting electronic scream from behind them and something came crashing heavily down the stairs. They turned to see the twisted remains of a Cyberman lying at the foot of them.
"Stay there!" he rapped, and sprinted for the stairs, charging up them three at a time. They heard heavy footsteps grating on the floor at the top and Wayne fired again. There was another cry and a thud, then they heard the sound of a heavy door slamming and bolts being driven home. A few seconds later, they heard Wayne hurrying back down the stairs towards them. He looked at each of them levelly.
"Whose bright idea was it to hide down here?"
Benny, Grace and Jo all pointed at Hayzel. She shrugged wearily. "Lucylla's suggestion."
"Yes," he said. "It was also her suggestion that I might look for you down here."
"Well, good for her!" declared Benny with relief. She came over, good hand outstretched to take his. "I'm glad to see you, Wayne. Are you, er, better, now?"
Wayne looked at her hand but didn't take it. Instead, he twitched his weapon back up to point at her midriff. "I'm much better, thank you." He smiled at her crookedly. "Quite my old self, in fact..."
"You didn't answer my question, Wayne..." Hayzel's voice drifted from behind Benny. Wayne looked at her.
"You mean the one about whose side I'm on? Well..." he perched on a table, gently pushing a steel tray covered by a blood-stained towel to one side to make room for himself. "That all sort of depends."
"On what?" Grace folded her arms and glared at the newcomer with undisguised hostility. She hadn't known him long and already she decided she didn't like him.
Wayne smiled. "On who wins. But for now, you can consider me your..." he paused to think of a word, "bodyguard, if you like."
"Keeper, more like!" snapped Grace.
"Or jailer!" Jo looked around the dismal room bleakly and shivered. Now she really did wish they'd stayed in the tunnels.
"You're quite safe here," he declared smugly. Then he added: "For the moment!"
"Y'know Wayne," begun Benny, "When I first saw you, I thought you looked a little like a muscle-bound, narcissistic twerp. Now I've known you a little longer, I realise you don't look a little that way at all." She smiled sweetly at him. "You look completely that way!"
He smiled at her frostily. "And I thought you were a middle-aged dipso with no charm, manners or looks. And I still do."
Benny looked outraged. "Well, allow me to retort!"
"Must you?" groaned Grace.
"He didn't call you a middle-aged dipso!" she snapped. "I'm only thirty... something!"
"You don't look it," muttered Wayne. "Forty something, maybe!"
Benny gave him a mouthful of Martian that would have made a Grand Marshal blush and stepped forward, fists bunched. Jo stepped between them.
"Please, please, can we not argue now! I think we're in enough bother as it is!"
"Agreed," said Hayzel, sinking into a chair wearily after first pushing the spikes on the seat to the floor.
"What do you suggest?" said Grace. "Just waiting?"
"Why not?" she shrugged. "I'm tired of running around..." Hayzel closed her eyes and leaned back. "We'll be safe enough, for the time being at least..." Then maybe I'll be strong enough to tear his face off, she thought. If Summerfield doesn't beat me to it.
"Oh yeah," spluttered Benny. "With Mr Muscles here to protect us... Grace, are there any cyanide capsules in that medikit?"
"And of course, a bottle of vodka to wash them down with," snapped Wayne.
"Aw, go boil your head, you..."
Jo wrapped her arms around her head and screamed in frustration.
***
The Doctor watched the scene forming in the void in front of them, eyes narrowed. Things were appearing that he was starting to recognise. He heard a distant screeching voice and a Dalek suddenly hurtled forward, gun stick blazing. A young man in a military uniform was hurled backwards into a metal fence, his skeleton briefly outlined beneath the deadly radiation glow. The Doctor winced.
As if Lavarre read his mind, he turned and grinned him.
"Recognise any of it?"
"Hmmm, possibly. Some sort of space/time visualiser?"
"A very advanced form, yes."
"Hmmm..." the Doctor tapped his lip. "And like most other forms of televisual apparatus, all it's showing is repeats. Fascinating," he said dryly.
"But very specific repeats, Doctor," he breathed, then waved towards the vision with a flourish. The Dalek vanished to be replaced by a roaring Chelonian. A young girl cowered back before it, clutching a one-armed doll. A claw swooped down... "Behold, Doctor! Some of the very worst moments of your life," he declared theatrically.
"Oh dear," the Doctor sighed, leaning forward, playing with his glasses and making a show of squinting at the images. "This might take a while, then..."
Lavarre laughed mirthlessly. "Remarkable! Even in the face of death, Doctor..."
"Death? Oh no..." The Doctor turned to blink owlishly at Lavarre. "I'm not expecting death, not here. Allen Funt, or Jeremy Beadle, possibly." He gestured towards the screen. "This is a joke, isn't it?"
"A joke!" thundered Lavarre, before he realised the Doctor was trying to goad him again - and almost succeeding. "The joke is on you, Doctor!"
"Hmmm, really. As master plans go, this isn't terribly shocking. Showing me all the, how did you put, 'worst moments of my life'? Goodness gracious," he chuckled, "you'll forgive me if I don't suffer a coronary!" Then he became serious. "Unlike you Lavarre, I've learnt to live with the disasters in my life. With all my mistakes and follies." He turned and looked at the image. It showed Adric, gazing in defeat at the view screen of the doomed freighter the Doctor had left him on, watching the Earth fill the screen, knowing death was seconds away...
The Doctor turned back to Lavarre. Quietly, he continued. "It's helped make me a better man, in fact. I don't brood on them, Lavarre. They... remind me. That I'm not all-powerful. That I am mortal, as are the people around me. That I don't win every time." He looked back at Lavarre. "Nobody does, no matter how hard you struggle to change the rules. You might have done better to have followed my example."
"I'm not just showing them to you!" Lavarre nearly exploded. He jabbed a finger into the Doctor's face. "You're going to relive them, Doctor. Or one of them, at least. And then, oh yes, then, you'll meet your end, Doctor. Then you'll meet death."
"And how do you propose to make me do that?" the Doctor snapped coldly.
"Because if you don't," Lavarre warned menacingly, "not only will you die, but the very fabric of time itself with tear and been strewn asunder into chaos!" Lavarre thrust his face into the Doctor's and hissed through clenched teeth: "For the rest of eternity. And all thanks to you." Lavarre drew in a deep, shaky breath. "And the only way you can stop it Doctor, is to die!"
The image flickered and changed. The Doctor's face went completely pale at the scene before him.
"Oh no... not that," he whispered.
Lavarre grinned victoriously.
***
Jaysen slammed the playroom doors shut behind them and hurried over to the long wooden cabinet that ran along one wall. The panels on its front were exquisitely carved with detailed studies of figures in combat. It was one of a multitude of object d'art dotted around the large room, which also held a staggering variety of different games and past-times. There was a snooker table, and several pinball and electronic games machines, and a lot of items and equipment of baffling appearance and origin. Besides an awful lot of weapons - guns, knives, bombs, chemicals - all for their entertainment, set in racks and shelves along the walls. It would have been possible to equip an army with what was contained in the room.
He paused before a complex locking device in its centre and peered into a retinal scanner. There was a single electronic ping and a click as the mechanism released. Jaysen slid the panels aside to reveal a staggering array of weaponry. He stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"What do you reckon we'll need? I suppose with the dampening field still on, we can rule out blasters and phasers." He picked up a compact handgun and looked at it longingly. "Pity," he sighed, before tossing it back. He turned his head to look at his companion. "What do you reckon?"
Dyane perched on the end of the snooker table and started idly flicking the coloured balls around the table. "Dunno," was all she replied.
Jaysen frowned, then went back to hunting through the cabinet for something suitable. "Well, come on! We've got to look for Wayne, remember?"
"Have we?"
Something in her tone made Jaysen look round again. Carefully he laid a gleaming new Schmeisser machine pistol back into the rack and came over to her. "What's up? Still sore because Lavarre wouldn't let you chop the Doctor?"
"No, not because of that," she said, flicking the yellow ball down towards one of the bottom pockets. It rattled in the jaws and bounced clear. She frowned, and held up her hand, studying it carefully. Was it her imagination, or was there a minute tremor?
"What then?"
She looked at him for a moment. Then she said quietly: "I'm afraid, Jaysen."
He scoffed incredulously - but nervously. "Afraid, you? Come off it..."
"No, really..." she stood up and stalked around the table. "It's all gone bad, Jaysen. The whole thing."
"So, we lost a few..." he shrugged.
"It's not that. It's Lavarre." She picked up the yellow ball and examined it. "I think he's lost it."
"Just because he locked you up?" he laughed.
"No. More than that. Can't you see it?"
Jaysen licked his lips, flicking an edgy glance around the room. This conversation was making him very uncomfortable. He wouldn't have put it past the old spider to put bugs in here. Best place too, if you wanted to get all the gossip. Jaysen tried to sound agreeable, while diplomatic. He could work himself even further back into Lavarre's favour if he uncovered another traitor in his midst. "Well, er... y'know, he always was a little flaky, wasn't he? I mean, stuck out here, on his own..."
"Oh yes, he's very probably insane," she stated, matter-of-factly. "I knew that all along. But it's the first time he's shown it." She slowly squeezed the ball in her fist. There was a minute cracking sound, and she winced. She opened her hand, to show the yellow ball. Its surface was covered in a spider-web of cracks. She sighed. "There would have been a time when I'd have cracked this like an egg. Now..." she dropped the ball onto the table with a loud thunk. Bits flaked off, but it remained intact. She looked up at Jaysen. Suddenly her face seemed a lot older. "Lavarre isn't the only one who's losing his touch."
Jaysen winced slightly. He wasn't used to this sort of talk, especially from someone as cool as Dyane. He had always been slightly in awe of her from the start, as he was with most of the elder Kids. "It's been... well... look, you've been - we've all been! - through a lot. You're just... tired," he finished, lamely.
She closed her eyes. "Yes," she breathed, "I'm tired. Tired of the whole thing. Jaysen," and she leaned over the table towards him, "it's got to the stage when I'm wondering if I shouldn't pick up my chips and find a new game. What do you reckon?" She reached across and trailed a slim finger up and down the centre of his black silk shirt, toying with the buttons. "There's plenty of career opportunities for a couple of well-educated killers like us..." She stopped short of offering him a partnership. That was the last thing she would have done. She always worked alone, and always would. And she could think of a hundred people she'd sooner team with than someone like Jaysen. But it would be more beneficial to convince him to join her in running. That way, she wouldn't have to worry about him trying to shoot her in the back - and she wouldn't have to do the same to him. He might be useful, and besides, convincing a wimp like him was kids' play - and she might need to brush up on her people skills, at least until she was set up elsewhere...
Jaysen gaped at her almost comically. Her dark eyes blinking up at his, combined with that roving finger, was having an irresistible effect on him. He found himself leaning across the table towards her, their faces getting closer together. All thought of bugs and Lavarre's wraith suddenly left his mind. "I-"
He never got the chance to finish. The playroom door banged open and two more people rushed into the room. They skidded to halt when they saw the pair at the snooker table, and for a moment there was silence.
"Oh, hi!" said Chris cheerfully, waving a hand in greeting, then murmured urgently out of the corner of his mouth to Chayni: "Get the guns!"
"Hold it!" Jaysen stumbled back from the table and swung round. He found he almost had to say it twice, as his voice had gone strangely dry all of a sudden. He fumbled the gun he'd retrieved from the Doctor round to bear. Chayni halted in mid sidle to the open cabinet. It was a little matter of four or five feet. If she dived, she could probably reach something inside.
But Jaysen's gun was pointing right at Chris's heart. She'd make it all right - but he wouldn't.
That wasn't a favourable equation.
"Wait, Jaysen..." Dyane came round, hands held up placatingly. "Let's none of us do anything we'll regret."
"We got the drop on 'em, Dyane!" insisted Jaysen.
Chayni snorted. "Jaysen, you couldn't get the drop on an Andromedan Fruit Sloth!"
Jaysen stepped forward menacingly. "Now you listen here!" Dyane stopped him and gently pushed his gun arm down.
"I said relax! Chayni, I'm glad to see you survived whatever it was Lavarre left you to."
"Hmph, not pleased enough to help us out of it though!" Chayni glared at Dyane through hooded eyes. She'd learnt to treat Lavarre's poison queen with some respect over the years. Especially around meal times. The element of warmth in her voice made Chayni all the more wary.
Dyane nodded. "Sorry, but that wasn't my plan. I was as much surprised as you."
"Where's the Doctor?" snapped Chris.
Dyane looked at Chris curiously. "He's with Lavarre. Chayni, who is this guy?"
"He's with me," she said shortly.
"Ahhh..." Dyane replied knowingly. "I see." She'd heard that such things happened from time to time, though it had never happened to her. Kids forming attachments to their... prey. It was a sure sign of weakness, and the Kid involved rarely returned to the fold. Dyane was always careful to keep her own emotions at arms length.
"Do you?" snapped Chayni primly. Dyane was the last person she could ever imagine falling in love... if that was what had happened to her. She could scarcely believe it herself. She darted a look across at Chris, and her belief strengthened. Dyane didn't know what she was missing.
"I've a good idea, anyway. You say your name is Chris? Chris Cwej, by any chance?"
"That's right," replied Chris, then realisation dawned. He remembered Dyane now, from the hospital, and his unease increased tenfold.
Dyane reached up and rubbed at the back of her head reflectively. "Yes. I've wanted to meet you again. I owe you a very large bruise..."
Chayni took a step forward, standing between the two. "I don't think so, Dyane. But if you'd like another yourself, by all means..." and she gestured her forward.
Dyane smiled. "You know I don't really go in for that rough-stuff, Chayni. Though in your case, I might make an exception."
"You're quite welcome to try!" Chayni folded her arms and squared her shoulders, muscles visibly tensing beneath her shirt. Dyane looked at her for a moment, then turned away.
"Maybe later. I'd hate to take advantage of you in your weakened state, after all. Wouldn't be fair."
Thunderclouds formed on Chayni's brow. "Wouldn't be - why you...!" She took a step forward towards Dyane.
Chris rested a restraining hand on her arm. "I hate to break this up, but there are people downstairs who need our help. She's just winding you up anyway!"
"Okay, okay..." Chayni took a breath, calming herself down. "I don't know why I'm fighting with her anyway. It's you she wants to beat up after all!" Chayni muttered, still glowering at the other assassin.
"Oh thanks! Look, let's just get what we need and get back down there!"
"No chance!" snapped Jaysen. Dyane raised a hand to silence him, and then returned her attention to Chayni.
"I see you've chosen your side, then..."
"Kinda looks that way, doesn't it?" Chayni replied testily. "How about you?"
"I've only ever been on one side," and she jerked a thumb at her own chest. "My own!"
"Are you going to let us take some guns or not?" interjected Chris loudly.
"What do you think?" snarled Jaysen.
Chris glared at him. Gun or no gun, Jaysen didn't scare him at all. "Chayni, those Cybermen will-"
"Cybermen?" frowned Dyane.
"Yeah, Cybermen," replied Chayni. "Seems Lavarre has been keeping them on ice downstairs for a special occasion. Now they're up, and they're mad as hell. They're tearing this place to bits trying to get us."
Chris nodded. Dyane and Jaysen exchanged a glance. Jaysen turned and switched on an old-fashioned television set sitting on casters near the snooker table. A black and white image swam into focus.
"I don't believe it," he muttered, flicking through the channels and getting similar images of ghostly silver figures stalking the rooms and hallways of the big house. "They're right!"
Dyane came over and took a look. She chewed on the inside of her mouth for a moment, and then moved forward to stand in front of the cabinet, between Chayni and the weapons inside. She looked at Chayni, smiled, then reached inside and pulled out a futuristic-looking machine gun, then a magazine for it. She slapped the magazine home and tossed the weapon to Chris.
"M41-A Pulse Rifle, with 100 rounds of gold-tipped armour-piercing shells. It pays to be prepared. Oh yeah," she nodded to Chayni at her questioning look, "I knew about the Cybermen down there, after exploring one day. I often wondered what he did with all the bodies."
Chayni raised an eyebrow. "Another example of Lavarre's renowned efficiency?"
Dyane smiled grimly. "Another example of Lavarre's insanity. I'd consider anyone who keeps a fully equipped Cyber-base in his basement, along with regen units and Cybernisation equipment a bit of a fruitcase, wouldn't you?"
"Oh yeah. Definitely a beer short of a six-pack!" said Chris, checking his rifle over. For all he knew, it might explode in his face.
She reached inside and pulled another weapon free, then hesitated halfway through the action and said quietly: "I sometimes wondered if that was going to happen to me one day."
Chayni looked at her for a moment, her face softening, then reached across and grasped her shoulder. "Dyane, I had the same fears as you. About what Lavarre might do to me when I failed him, or I got too slow or old." She cast a glance at the TV set and the flickering image it cast. "What he did to us... what we've done for him... we might just as well have been turned into Cybermen." She turned and looked at Chris, a terrible look of self-loathing across her face. "Lavarre's programmed us as surely as he's programmed those Cybermen. In the long run, we've been no different to them."
Chris reached out and took her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "You're no Cyberman, love. You're very human, believe me!"
Chayni glanced at him with wry amusement, squeezing his hand back. "Is that some kind of insult?"
Dyane sighed. "Different? Oh yes we are... we had a choice about what we did. They don't. That makes us worse." She looked round at Jaysen. "Lavarre just made it difficult for us to make the right choice. Knowing who we are, what we are... what we can do." She passed the weapon to Chayni and reached for another. "Giving us all the best equipment, and the whole of time and space to play in..."
"Play?" murmured Chris incredulously. Dyane looked at him and nodded, and after a second, Chayni nodded too.
"Yes. That's all it was, to us - and to him. Just a game. But that was the thrill. That's what kept us going. That's what kept us with him."
"We just never realised it before. Until now," said Dyane quietly.
"That's what happens when you upset the Doctor." The two women looked at Chris, who smiled and nodded. "I've seen it happen loads of times. He has this effect on certain types of organisation. They start off all perfect and well ordered, all set to be masters of the universe or whatever, then he gets involved, widens a few cracks in the armour, and before you know it, it all comes crashing down."
Chayni raised an eyebrow. "Very clever."
"No wonder they never let him stay at home," remarked Dyane. "You know, I might grow to like him after all."
Jaysen kept quiet through this exchange. It was all rather too much for him, all of a sudden. He backed slowly away. "What do you propose doing, Dyane?" he asked slowly.
Dyane considered. "Well, any notion of escape by ourselves went out the window when those things got loose."
"They won't come after us... will they?"
She gave him a funny look. "I'm not waiting to find out. Those things aren't like those serving robots, Jaysen. They've got brains, of sorts. Individual purpose."
"And that one purpose, is kill anyone or anything in their path," added Chayni.
Dyane nodded. "Friend or foe. The ultimate security sanction, Lavarre once called it."
"How does he stop them?" asked Chris. "If we could find that out..."
"Forget it." Chayni started to push him towards the door. "We don't have time to figure it out. Let's just do it the simple way..." and she pulled back the bolt on her rifle, "and wipe 'em out!"
Jaysen still didn't believe it. He grabbed Dyane's arm as she moved past to join Chris and Chayni. "Oh come on, he needs us... he said so!"
Dyane gave him a withering look. "Does he? Work it out, Jaysen. We both fouled up. He was going to leave me to rot in my room for Goddess knows how long. And he let you live only because he thought he might need someone to watch his back. No, we're of no further use to him, now. Why do you think he kept Chlorys with him and not us as well? He still has some trust in her abilities." She turned to look at Chayni. "I was figuring on going back to the jump room. I don't think I'll have any trouble with Chlorys, I reckon she'd be glad to see the back of me."
"I wouldn't ever show my back to Chlorys!" admitted Chayni, with a small smile.
Dyane frowned. "She's not like that, you know. She told me once that killing someone from behind is like eating chocolates from a box without looking at the note inside to see what flavours they are." She shook her head. "I don't understand the allusion myself."
Chayni chuckled and shook her head. "I wouldn't even try! She always was weird."
"So you're coming with us?" asked Chris, who was starting to lose track of whose side everyone was on now. But Cybermen, now there was an enemy you could just wade into. Everyone hated Cybermen...
"Just as far as the jump room. Then you're on your own. I don't plan on sticking around, no matter who wins."
"Fair enough," nodded Chayni. "Though you know, if Lavarre wins..." she began to warn.
"He won't," rapped Chris defiantly.
Dyane smiled. "I know... but after this, I think he'll be far too busy to even think of coming after me. And by then, I'll be in a galaxy far, far away..."
Jaysen began to splutter. Chayni couldn't decide whether it was through misguided loyalty, or sheer terror, to his master. She decided it was probably more of the latter than the former. She couldn't imagine Lavarre taking long to track him down.
"This is treason! Mutiny!"
"Yep," said Chayni. "Join the cause."
Dyane came over and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Jaysen eyed her suspiciously.
"C'mon, Jaysen! We'll go down, blast a few Cybermen, then - and only then! - we'll sort out our old differences. Whaddaya say?"
Jaysen looked from Chris, to Chayni, and then back at Dyane. They all looked at him expectantly. He shrugged. It had to be better than cowering in here, and besides, the situation might work to his advantage yet. If Lavarre returned, he could still get the drop on these people...
"Aww, why not?"
***
