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By Root 398 0

eyes closed. There was noise: the screech of the ambulance’s tyres and the blare of its horn, mingled with her own scream of ‘Look out!’ as the car shot through the lights and bore down on the vehicle. There was a blur of movement from the front seat of the car and suddenly, impossibly, the Doctor was in the driver’s position, the Brigadier slumped semi-conscious and muttering in the passenger seat beside him. Tegan’s yell as the Doctor twisted the steering wheel to the left was abruptly cut off as she was slammed against the door, the impact jarring her ribs and knocking the breath out

of her. For a split-second the side of the ambulance filled their windscreen, then abruptly it was gone. The Doctor guided the car to the side of the road and cut the engine.

He turned to the Brigadier sitting beside him. ‘Brigadier,’

he said urgently. ‘Alistair, can you hear me?’

The Brigadier groaned, then his eyelids fluttered open. ‘Eh, what? What’s going on?’

‘You passed out, Brigadier,’ the Doctor said, regarding him earnestly.

The Brigadier’s eyes widened, the outrageousness of the suggestion far more effective than any amount of smelling salts. ‘Passed out! Don’t be ridiculous. I have never heard such... such...’ His voice tailed off and he looked around in confusion.

‘How are you feeling, Alistair?’ the Doctor asked gently.

‘Feeling? Well, fine. I told you.’

The Doctor closed his eyes in brief, quiet exasperation. ‘I need you to tell me the truth. This is important.’

The Brigadier looked at him for a moment, pride battling with honesty. Then his shoulders slumped a little and he sighed. ‘Yes, well, I suppose I have been feeling a bit woozy,’

he mumbled. ‘And I’ve got this... this rash.’ He ran a hand across his chest, over his shoulder and down his arm to show the Doctor the extent of it.

‘May I see?’ asked the Doctor gently.

The Brigadier, clearly embarrassed, said, ‘Is it really necessary?’

‘You know it is,’ the Doctor said.

The Brigadier’s sigh was deeper this time. Reluctantly he unbuttoned the jacket of his uniform, loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt.

The Doctor eased the shirt apart and his face tightened. At this the Brigadier looked down at himself. ‘Good grief!’ he said.

All across his chest, the black, tell-tale nubs of Xaranti quills were beginning to poke through his skin.

* * *

A UNIT jeep cruised to a stop beside them. As Benton jumped out of the passenger side, the Brigadier hastily rebuttoned his shirt.

Benton poked his head through the open window beside the Brigadier. ‘I thought you were all goners for a moment there,’ he said. ‘What happened? Is everyone OK?’

‘Everyone’s perfectly fine, thank you, Benton,’ said the Brigadier brusquely.

‘A slight miscalculation on my part, I’m afraid,’ said the Doctor, giving Benton a meaningful look. ‘I overshot the red light. Careless of me.’

‘I see,’ said Benton hesitantly. ‘Well, if you’re sure you’re all right...’

‘Never better,’ snapped the Brigadier. ‘Now, if there’s nothing else, Benton, I suggest we go and tackle this creature before it dies of old age.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Benton, jumping almost to attention in response to the Brigadier’s tone.

As he left, the Doctor said, ‘I think a quiet word with Sergeant Benton might be in order.’

‘Going to tell him about my funny turn, are you?’ said the Brigadier.

‘Not at all,’ said the Doctor, though he looked guilty. ‘In view of the circumstances, I think it might be wise to assess the current state of the troops.’

The Brigadier regarded him shrewdly for a moment, then gave a concessionary nod. ‘Yes, good idea.’

Offering a brief smile, the Doctor got out of the car and went round to the passenger side of the jeep. ‘Do you think I might have a private word with you, Sergeant?’ he asked.

Benton looked surprised. He regarded the Doctor as a good friend, but it was not often the Time Lord confided in him.

‘Yes, of course,’ he said and got out of the jeep. ‘Is everything all right, Doctor?’

The Doctor led him a few yards away from the jeep and regarded him gravely. ‘How are you feeling, Sergeant?