Doctor Who Fan Fiction ❯ A Growing Madness ❯ How it Began ( Prologue )

Doctor Who and its accoutrements are the property of the BBC, and we obviously don't have any right to them. Any and all fan fiction characters belong to their respective creators. Alas no one makes any money from this story, and it's all done out of love for a cheap-looking sci-fi show.

 

 

Prologue


He could hardly believe his luck. By some miracle fate had dumped him into the laps of these two Time Travelers. Sure, they both looked strange, with their odd outfits, but considering they probably had visited multiple times, their outfits were not all that bizarre.

Callom remembered waking up for the first time. Blinking open his eyes, he peered at a black haired man sitting beside the bed. Calmly the man sat there with crossed legs, leaning his elbow on his knee. His wise old turtle face scrunched into a pondering look, and wispy black hair suggested late middle age. Yet there was a childlike curiosity mixed into his features.

What seemed the strangest to Callom was the brightness of the man's eyes. Such intensity he'd seen before in her eyes. No mental traces penetrated a formidable wall around this stranger's mind. Clearly he wasn't human.

Fear overtook Callom. Cold sweat plastered his blond hair against his smooth forehead. She possessed no thoughts he could discern. The unearthly intensity of the room's lights coupled with an eerie pulsing in the very fabric of the room, flooding his perception. Immediately he struggled to escape. Another collector had captured him.

"Steady on, lad," urged the man.

"You'll never put me in yuir zoo!" shouted Callom wildly.

"You're amongst friends here . . . "

A pair of hands gripped Callom's shoulders. Pinned him to the bed with surprising strength. "N-no! Must get away . . . " stammered Callom. "I'll Na' be butchered by the likes of ye . . . "

"Professor, what's going on?" asked a soprano voice. Out of the corner of his eye, Callom noticed a teenaged girl also present in the room. "E's coming out of it."

"Sh. It's all right lad. No one can hurt you here . . . " soothed the strange man, gently grasping the sides of Callom's young face. Firmly he turned Callom's head and fixed his eyes into the young Scot's hazel ones.

"Don hypnotize me . . . I'll na' be controlled again . . . "

"Easy . . . trust me. You're too sick and delirious to go anywhere."

As Callom looked into the man's dark eyes, he sensed calm and concern. Something, the look in the girl's eyes, reassured him that he was truly safe. Her long brown hair flipped over her shoulder in a long ponytail.

"Where am I nau?"

"Safe," repeated the black haired man. Those creases in his forehead looked comical and sad simultaneously.

"Looks like a ship or some kind of craft . . . " muttered Callom, glancing around quickly. "Can't be on a planet cause I feel that same strange vibration . . . like before""

"Where do you last recall being . . . where you last felt that vibration"" asked the man, pulling his question marked sweater down around his hips.

"It was a space ship . . . inside a small cabinet. There were so many rooms inside it. And there was a humming . . . like the drones on a piper's bag."

"And do you remember who was on board this ship""

"Animals. And aliens n the like," recounted Callom. His head ached from the effort of remembering. "N' there was . . . a woman wearing red. Had long hair and bright eyes. Kept taking blood outta everyone, and poked needles with syringes full some drug into me. And she kept cutting mah hair."

"Woman in red"" he asked. Elbow resting on his crossed knees, he propped his chin intently on his left hand.

"Aye. Wore a red wraparound smock like Doctor Frankenstein in the' movies. She . . . she put drugs in mah friend Raina MacLaren . . . and she screamed!"

"Who's Raina?" asked Ace, sitting on the end of Callom's bed. Immediately the man shushed her with a shake of his head.

"She's ma friend. She couldnae get away. Told me-- to save mahsel'-- couldnae help her,"

Callom choked as a tight band seemed to constrict his chest. Hot tears burned his cheeks. All he could do was sob when he remembered her lying on that slab of counter, helpless. Screaming to him to save himself.

An infinite sadness flashed across the man's lined face. He exchanged glances with the girl. Stern anger hardened her young cheeks as she frowned. "Bleeding' wench," she gritted.

Once again the man turned to Callom, pressing a paisley cloth into the lad's hand. "So do you remember anything else . . . anything at all that you might think it important to tell me""

Dabbing his eyes, Callom struggled with a word. "There was this name. The woman called hersel'. A French or Indian word that mean queen. Rani--or Randy--"

"Rani?"

"Aye, that's it, lassie! Rani!" cried Callom.

"The Rani," repeated the man bitterly. Lowering his dark eyebrows, he rose from his stool. This time Callom felt pure anger radiating from him. Interestingly this was the first time he sensed anything at all from this stranger. He'd been able to discern some of the girl's thoughts. She seemed human anyway.

"Again she vivisects innocent sentient beings to further her research . . . not concerned with the consequences of her acts," he grumbled with disgust, with his back turned to them.

"Did ah say something wrong, mister"" wondered Callom, scratching his head.

"Who the heck's the Rani, Professor?"

"Only one of the most brilliant minds traveling the Cosmos," snorted the man, whirling about. "Second only to my own intellect, Ace."

Callom realized he was addressing the girl as "Ace." "Is this Rani person a Time Lord, Professor?"

"Does an Ice Warrior come from Mars?" snorted the man. "Does a Dalek ask you politely if he can exterminate you?"

"Ah take it ye ken her, sir," said Callom cautiously. For the first time he felt hope. "Then can ye help me save Raina?"

"We can hope," sighed the Professor, or at least that's what Ace called him. He returned to his stool.

"Then hurry . . . we can still catch them . . . "

"You're in no condition to go anywhere now," snapped the Professor. "You need rest, fluids, and nourishment."

"But we may have nae more time . . . " protested Callom. Ace shook her head, intimating the young Scot to silence. She grinned.

"My dear lad, we have plenty of time. In fact we have all the time in the Universe."

"There he goes again," moaned Ace.

"Wait a moment. Maybe we don't have all that much time, on the other hand."

"What are you babbling about, Professor?"

"Since the Rani has them on board her ship, we might have a problem, Ace. But mayhap I can buy us some more time."

"Dinna tell me you two can travel through Time as well," exclaimed Callom. "That's incredible."

"First thing, young man, its Doctor, not Professor. Despite what Ace addresses me as. And second, you need to rest. So relax and leave the worry to me."

"Yeah, leave the time to the Time Lord," muttered Ace.

"Doctor, eh?"

"Just Doctor."

As if forgetting something, the Doctor snapped his fingers. "How silly of me. What is your name, young man""

Straightening up, he said, "Callom Andrew McPherson. From 1979 somewhere near... Edinbourough in Scotland. If you ken Earth time. I hope."

"Does he know earth time," laughed Ace. "A good job, squirt. He's always landing there every other time."

"Thank you, miss I'm from Perivale," sighed the Doctor, hands on his hips.


Hours passed in the little room. Callom woke and slept between bowls of broth and cups of distilled water. He threw up once or twice, but slowly his stomach held food once more. Waking up from a deep sleep, he half expected to find himself once more in a Perspex cage.

Turning over, he looked at the circles on the white walls. With effort he pushed himself to sit up, and swung his bare feet around to dangle just above the floor. Its flat smooth surface chilled his shaking feet as he stumbled across to the cabinet. One step, then another he took with growing strength.

To his surprise he spotted his clothing hanging in the wardrobe. The stains of blood and grime were absent from the freshly laundered kilt and shirt. Callom ran his fingers over the soft McPherson tartan, and prayed he'd find Raina. All the rips were neatly sewn together in the soft wool.

There was a trick to putting on a kilt. Callom wrapped the tartan around his waist, holding it in place with one hand as he slipped the leather strap on the right hip through the hole in the waistband. He fumbled with the leather straps and buckles with shaking fingers. Apparently his strength had not yet returned. He slipped off the oversized nightshirt and put on his own white button up, newly stiff with starch. Where did the Time Travelers do their laundry"

Bending over, he fastened the ornamental pins at the bottom corner of the kilt's opening. A ceremonial clansmen pin instead of the traditional oversize safety pin was fastened against red and forest green squares. Callom wore the pins for confidence. Something to remind him of his clan heritage. But not too fancy beyond the kilt.

Just who were these time travelers anyway? Callom wondered this while he pulled on his green pullover sweater. It matched the green in his plaid. They claimed to be time travelers, like the Rani was. And the man didn't have a name, just a title.

At the bottom of the wardrobe sat his knapsack. He sorted through his belongings: two books, tissues, chewing gum, several socks and a turtleneck shirt. Then he carefully pulled out a leather-sheathed knife. Slowly he turned it over in his hands, examining the blade. He could glimpse his sparsely freckled face briefly in its surface. The highland dirk belonged to his grandfather when he was Callom's age. Once more he slid it into its sheath.

Automatically Callom strapped the sheath around his right ankle. It had chafed him at first to wear it there. He complained it rubbed against his calf. Now if he didn't feel the dirk there, he was uncomfortable. The skeindu was a piece of family history to carry through his strange adventures.

Cautious, Callom exited the room. Those same indented circles lined the hallway. All over the walls they sat in a honeycomb pattern. As he walked, he felt his kilt swirling around his knees with each step. Step after step carried him down the humming corridors that seemed endless.

Ace had told him how to get to the Control Room. How large was this ship" It had a peculiar name, TARDIS. That's what the Doctor called it. Callom knew some science even though he was only eleven or twelve-year's old. He had Raina to thank for that.

Slowly Callom opened the door. That humming was strongest from behind it. In a moment he found out why. Right in the center of a large high vaulted chamber sat a control table. Its slanted surface flickered with multiple lights and buzzed with digital readouts and small CRT screens. Right in sync with the humming flashed a glass cylinder that rose and fell every few seconds. The Rain's ship had a similar console with a metal sculpture that spun instead of a column.

Sterile air filled his young lungs. The Doctor must have heard him approach, for Callom heard him say, "Hello," without even looking up.

"I'm feeling much better, sir," Callom reported.

Looking up from one of the six panels, the Doctor smiled. "Amazing what creature comforts can do, m'lad."

"Must be, because I feel less like a creature, n more like a lad again."

Was that a Scots burr Callom heard in the Doctor's accent" He found himself slipping into a heavy Highland accent, as he tended to do when he was nervous or upset or excited. "Yes, thank ye sir, but do y' ken where Raina is nau?"

"Let's jest say I'm working on it."

"Oh great, there 'e goes again," interrupted an English accented voice. Wearing a skirt shorter than Callom's kilt, Ace entered. Black spandex leggings rippled gracefully.

"Professor, when are you gonna give 'im the truth?"

"Whadda y mean, lass?" asked Callom.

"That phrase, 'I'm working on it,' means he's not discovered anything yet," explained Ace. "You'll learn that when you travel all around the 12 galaxies with him."

"Other than translating my every phrase, Ace, don't you have something more useful to do?" murmured the Doctor. "Like cooking up some Nitroglycerin or TNT""

"That's Nitro 9, Professor," Ace corrected. "For your info, it takes a couple hours to cook."

"Why you bother blowing things up instead of trying to understand them is beyond me," muttered the Doctor, rounding the panel to another control.

Ace stuck out her tongue at him, and stood next to Callom. "I see you found the clothing store," she said. "Way cool kilt. Great colors. What plaid is it""

"It's the McPherson tartan."

"Can you wear other colors or just those?"

"Sometimes I wear the Black Watch..."

"That's the one with the black and the green right?"

"Aye. Ye know lots about it I see."

"I'm not up on the rules for plaids."

"I'm entitled to wear ma mother's clan, and ma own. And the Black watch. But that's it."

"What's that brill pin say?"

"It's the clan saying... a kind of motto. It's in Gaelic. I kin translate it if ye like..."

"Callom, can you come over here a minute"" interrupted the Doctor. "I need your help."

Pulling down his sweater, Callom went over to the control console. "What's up? Any trace of Raina?"

"I understand you're telepathic."

"Aye. There were others like me who was teaching me t use mah powers better when we left Earth. I dinna ken how strong I am, but they'd said I'm getting better wi' practice."

Ace winced. Callom sensed she couldn't understand his thick accent very well. Although she was trying hard. For a moment he sensed her thoughts. Confusion, and wariness. Thoughts of a small town in the middle of England. Nothing ever happened. People there spoke with thick Midlands drawl.

"I'd like you to picture the last image in your mind."

"What good's that gonna do, Professor? It's not like he can give you coordinates or anything. He says he doesn't know where the 'eck the ship was..."

"Callom, stand over by that one panel. No, not that one. See the one with the two hand-sized panels? Good. Stand there. It won't bite you."

"Now put your hands on those panels. Gently. Close your eyes."

"What is this Doctor?" asked Callom, extending his hands cautiously.

"The TARDIS has a telepathic relay system. If you concentrate, the TARDIS should boost your thought discerning powers enough to sense Raina's thoughts."

"But mah powers to scry are nae strong enau," protested Callom. "It'd be like trying to find a needle in a haystack."

"A shark can smell blood miles away in the sea," said the Doctor. "And you claim to have a mental bond with Raina. The TARDIS will expand your perception over Space and Time. In fact the Rani's telepathic circuits will work against her this time."

"But you said the TARDIS's have a force field shielding them," protested Ace. "I don't think she'd let anybody just listen in."

"We have to try. Now, put your hands lightly on those panels in front of you. Gently. Breathe in and out. Slowly. Feel your mind unfolding, like a parachute. Around you is a vast void. Full of many sounds. A cosmic fugue. You know what piece to play. Call out to it..."

Callom felt the immensity of Time and Space. His tiny voice cried out to fill a vast volume. But now the boost rose his treble pitch like an amplifier. In the space between his ears he heard little. A nothing.

*Raina... please hear me.

Again he called. Nothing.

*Raina... can ye hear me nau?

He opened his eyes. "Och, I hear nothing! Not a single thought!"

"Perhaps you need to concentrate better. I want you to form a picture in your mind. Of Raina. Not just a physical appearance. Think of her mind. How it touches yours when you are near. Attune your mind to her pattern of thinking. Concentrate."

Ace jumped. Right in the room she saw a spectral image forming. By the console stood the young Scot, eyes squeezed shut as he thought hard. "Hey, Professor, what's happening?"

"Shush Ace. I do believe he's able to influence our visual cortexes... that's an image of Raina..."

The spectral image grew stronger. It shaped its angles and lights into that of a humanoid, hovering in an indeterminate place. An image of a woman wearing glasses with white streaked hair and a weary face. She lay stretched out on a slab, struggling against her bonds.

*Raina, It's me, Callom!

Weakly she came through... *Callom! You're alive!

*Aye! That I am! I'm safe and well. I'm trying to find ye.

*No... she'll hear you...

*I won't leave ye nau... Where are you going?

*She said something about a planet... Tetrad... Tetrabyria...

The Doctor watched the spectral images with growing interest. He saw a clear image of hundreds of glass cages of varying size containing a multitude of creatures. On one wall were scribbled strange figures. Strange bat-like creatures hung from the ceiling of a room...

A TARDIS control room. Bending over it was an image of a woman, haughtily pressing controls. She laughed scornfully at the figure on the slab writhing in agony...

Suddenly the images stopped. Callom cried out, and writhed in agony. "Professor, what's happening to the kid?"

"Some sort of mind lock... Callom! Break free, lad! Snap out of it..."

Ace moved toward him. "Stay away from him, Ace! His thoughts may stun your mind."

"You'll never take me... you unethical excuse for a scientist," gritted Callom, with a British accent. Clearly the pattern of speech was not his own. "Never... you're mad..."

The Doctor slid round the console toward Callom. Gripped the boy's shoulders. "Listen to me, boy! You are Callom McPherson! You're safe..."

Ace watched helplessly as the Doctor writhed, struggling to pull the young Scot away from the control panel. "Professor! Snap out of it!"

Callom screamed in his treble voice. Then fell backwards as the Doctor wrenched him from the TARDIS console. Gently the Doctor caught the boy in his arms. "Easy lad, I have you," he soothed, wiping his brow with a paisley handkerchief.

"Is he..." asked Ace, crouching next to the Doctor. He clutched Callom's limp body against his chest, and balanced the boy's head and shoulders on his bent knee. Covered with sweat, Callom's skin was pale and clammy to the touch.

"Get me some water, please Ace. The boy's under tremendous strain..."

"Why'd you let him do that?" demanded Ace angrily. "You might have killed him!"

"If we have any chance of stopping the Rani, we must take it."

"Even if it means sacrificing a kid to get it?"

"Ace, just do as I say, that's a good girl..."

Snorting, she scrambled to her feet. Muttered to herself angrily as she exited. A few seconds later she returned, carrying a plastic cup. "Here's your water, Professor," she reported sullenly.

"Callom," he whispered. "Wake up."

Callom's blond lashed eyelids flickered, and hazel eyes glanced up at the Doctor. "I saw her... I saw her," he murmured.

"Easy. Take a sip of this... all down... easy." Gently, the Doctor touched the rim of the cup to the boy's lips. With the slightest drop passing into his mouth, Callom was able to take the cup from him.

Ace hovered nearby. Callom sensed apprehension from her, as if the Doctor had just done something he shouldn't have. Exactly what it was he couldn't discern. Cool water slid down his parched throat, banishing the dryness.

***

Dry throated, she once against strained against resilient bands. They tightened the instant that she moved, cutting off the blood flow to her limbs. Tingling pain racked her, and she was forced to freeze until it stopped. Unable to move, yet unable to stand sitting still because of the stiffness from laying rigidly on her back.

Whoever had pinned her to this specimen table didn't want her to die. She was being kept alive, a dozen tubes sticking into her. So slowly the liquids drained in and out. She didn't eat solid food for the last few hours. Just some nutrient broth percolated into her body. All around her were other cages occupied by other life forms. They too had tubes running into them at various points on their bodies.

"How do I get into these messes?" she griped.

"You humans should not have tried to exceed your grasp."

"Traitor!" Raina MacLaren whispered. "I thought you would help us."

"I did help you... didn't Callom escape?" whispered the voice slowly. Her head and shoulders came into view, her platinum streaks striating the coal black locks that curled around her face.

"But I remain," Ray whispered.

"You aided and abetted," said Raina. "And I was forced to return you here."

"Lying bitch," Ray spat into her face.

"Ray, please, there was a good reason."

The light in Vitreum's eyes flashed fear when someone's smooth voice interrupted them. "Really, you are a sentimental fool, Vitreum. Traternizing with lesser life forms."

"The Rani," whispered Vitreum, stepping back from the table where the subject was confined. She smoothed out her sash glittering with the pins of the high scientific counsel, and regarded her mistress.

"Have you made the necessary preparations?" the Rani asked.

"Yes, Mistress Rani," she nodded dully.

"So, the angel of Death has returned to check the progress of her student?" Ray Mariner laughed ironically.

"This one has spirit, it actually talks," the Rani laughed, moving into view. Ray gritted her teeth as the Time Lady scientist grabbed her chin with viselike fingers and twisted Ray's head from side to side.

"Rani, I did what you asked..."

"And yet the human male escaped. You are getting sloppy, Vitreum..." Rani said, her dark eyes flashing with momentary anger. "I'm beginning to question your loyalty..."

"Mistres Rani, I have done what you asked," said Vitreum, as the Rani advanced upon her.

"Do you forget that you are my servant?" asked Rani. "That your entire scientific knowledge you owe to me?"

"I do not forget, that you lured me into betraying my own people. Centuries ago to the Time Lords... your superior race," Vitreum answered flatly.

"You owe me your life," Rani raised a manicured fingernail. "You are the last of your misbegotten kind. And you should be glad I considered your species worth saving."

"For that I thank you, Rani," Vitreum bowed her head. Was that defiance that Ray saw in the young scientist's silver eyes" For the first time since she convinced her to free them"

"You forget that you are an inch away from death," Rani said, holding up her microcomputer bracelet, posing her finger over the top button.

"I know," Vitreum nodded, hate gritting her teeth. She knew the biochemical agent that could be triggered in a nanosecond if the Rani even suspected she was about to consider betrayal.

"And this human female, of which you seem particularly fond, might well suffer the consequences of your folly," said Rani, moving toward Ray once more.

"No," Vitreum denied.

"It was your disease that wiped them out, wasn't it?" Raina spat. "The Mantissans! Vitreum, why do you let her push you around" She murdered your race with her experiments! Do you want to be any better then she""

"You amuse me, simian," Rani laughed, jerking Ray's head back by her strands of dark hair. "Humans are weak creatures. I had hoped to improve upon the young male specimen. But thanks to your folly Vitreum, he has escaped. I think I shall carry out my experiment upon this one... she has great constitution... but her chatter is idol psychobabble..."

"You think you're better then us because you're a Time Lord?" Ray asked, defiant to the end. "You're pathetic..."

"Look at it this way," said the Rani in her smooth, infuriating voice. "You will be participating in a great experiment. I thought you always wanted to contribute to the cause of Science."

"Not as the subject of the experiment!" she argued.

 

"Rani, let her go! Return her to her native environment!" said Vitreum!

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you had FEELINGS for this lesser creature... as you did for the male humanoid spawn."

"I cannot deny it," said Vitreum, moving between the Rani and Ray's table. "She is intelligent. What right have we to be experimenting on her kind""

"Superior intelligence, Vitreum," The Rani shook her head. "You had certain reservations about my techniques. Therefore I thought it was fitting that you cooperate in a less, as they say, compromising capacity. I have been tolerant till now. Must I subject YOU to examination""

"No!" Vitreum said. "Just... this once, can't you spare this one?"

"All creatures are of use. It is a waste to destroy such an excellent specimen as this one. She will not die, but will be proud to be manipulated into a far superior species... that Homo Sapiens could have aspired to," said the Rani eagerly.

"Vitreum, she almost destroyed Callom! How can you stand by and let her do this?" Ray demanded.

"Humans are excellent test material. Pity about the human spawn. He has such telepathic potential, but the human genes are inhibiting it. I merely borrowed from your inheritance to enhance his abilities. Improve on the course of evolution," laughed the Rani, turning to Vitreum. "You cannot deny it, my student. What progress. I helped him. Why I bother explaining my reasons to this small minded simian is beyond me."

"Rani, why?" asked Vitreum, gathering her nerve from Ray's resolve. "Forgive me for asking why?"

"You surprise me Vitreum. Haven't the Mantissans, your species done that for generations Used Genetic engineering to breed a superior race? With the data gained from this subject I could indeed make you the progenitor of a newer, better breed..."

"Yes, but if a culture did not wish to undergo the changes, they could choose not to. Evolution was a matter of choice."

"Ah, but some species do not know when they are well off. Your species has quite a good idea. But they, like many are too squeamish. As I see you are becoming... and that disappoints me, my student," Rani shook her head.

"You see what she promises?" Ray asked Vitreum. "She's amoral... with no remorse."

"Do stop your squawking, ape," Rani laughed in Ray's face. "Why stop the inevitable, Vitreum" You have the capacity for great power. Power beyond mere telepathy. Why, if the Time Lords knew what you were capable of, they would not hesitate to wipe you off the map of the Universe."

"I don't understand," Vitreum said. "What has your experiments with these humans to do with my people" How can subjecting her to such modifications save my species""

"You soon will. All too soon."
***

Through the lab came the wheezing groan of Dematerialization. "Accept your situation, Mantissan. I am doing you a favor. Your species is just years from becoming one of the most spectacular in the Universe, when I am done here. You will be the mother of a new race."

"Under your control?" Ray added.

"Pah, what limits you have to your views? Do you think I want mere power?" the Rani laughed again. "Vitreum, you know I seek the glory of discovery, as you do. If you would remember the vision we shared. Few are privileged to work at my side."

"Like the Tetraps? Look what the poor Lakertians endured?" Ray asked her. Vitreum said nothing.

"They were fools. Decadent weak creatures. Not worthy to serve me. They should have died out eons ago."

"All for your stupid Loyhargil!" Ray laughed. "Remember the loyhargil, Vitreum! She would have destroyed the universe to have helium 2!"

A sickening slap crossed Ray's face. "That is not to be referred to. If you value your consciousness. Privileges must be earned. Do you wish to be sedated?”

"Stop!" Vitreum cried, grabbing the Rani's hand. "She was only pointing out a possible problem."

"I care nothing for this being's idle chatter. And if you would be intelligent you would not listen to her ramblings," the Rani hissed, dragging Vitreum away from the table.

"Vitreum! It's not too late!" cried Ray.

"Experiments do tend to loose my interest. I seek something else. My time manipulator can still be constructed. By organic means," the Rani whispered to Vitreum.

"I know... but..."

"VITREUM!" Ray cried.

"Enough," the Rani shook her head in disgust. Gesturing to one of the bat creatures, she uttered a command. A hissing slithering Tetrap fastened a slimy hand around the mouth of the human female. Its forked tongue waved provocatively.

"No," Vitreum protested.

"You do care too much for this human I think," the Rani snorted. "Will it take her death to convince you to obey me?"

"No. There is no need for venom." Vitreum bowed her head. Both Rani and her assistant trudged into yet another lab. The chill in the air did not bother the Time Lady. She rivaled in the sterile coldness of perfect atmosphere.

"Mistress, it is good to see you return."

"Stop your driveling. Is the operating theater ready?"

"All is in readiness, for your great return."

"Good. Take the subject then. Be warned. She is not as frail as she seems."

"What is this magnificent creature"" it asked, indicating Ray.

"It is not to be eaten, Yettab. That is an order."

Disappointment flashed around his four eyes. Vitreum narrowed her own two, and gritted, "If this were but ten thousand years earlier, you would be the eaten!" She had to be patient. After all it was only a matter of time before her own secret plan would go into action, and all the sins of the past would be forgiven.

***