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She approached the TARDIS, running her hands over it, old associations stirring dimly within her.

'Romana... I have some research to finish,' the Doctor cooed. 'I'll be in the Science Unit. Understand? You stay by the TARDIS... the TARDIS... stay by the TARDIS...'

Slowly, he backed away, his eyes darting from Romana to the horde of Marshmen around him and back again. The Marshmen made no move to stop him as he slowly backed into the passageway and headed off, clutching K9's head close to his chest and thanking his luck.

The Marshmen moved towards the TARDIS, to join Romana in appreciating this peculiar object.

As they came near, Romana swiped at them, driving them back, snarling at them, warning them by her actions that they should come no closer.

And indeed they held back.

There was a vast commotion of talk and movement in the Great Book Room. Login, Nefred and Garif stood in their galleries surrounded by stacks of manuals, leafing through them for information and advice. All around them, large numbers of citizens scuttled about, moving to and from the various book storage galleries, fetching new books to aid the Deciders.

Login was considering an engineering blueprint of the vessel. As former chief engineer he was best equipped to interpret the diagram. 'It might be possible to seal off the substructure,' he considered aloud.

'No,' said Garif, 'it seems they are already inside the main hull.'

'The bulkheads, then,' Login suggested.

'One recourse, certainly,' Nefred placated. He sounded less than convinced.

Login drew himself up to his full height, determined to have their attention and to decide on a course of action. 'Nefred. Garif.' They reluctantly turned to hear what he had to say, and he indicated areas on the blueprint before him. 'We must close these bulkheads, and these, and we must gather the citizens in here at once.'

'Yes, I can see the plan has some merit in it,' Garif muttered, already scuttling away to another area of the galleries to consider a fresh cluster of manuals gathered by the citizens.

'And we must do it quickly!' said Login, infuriated by his colleagues' indecisiveness. 'Are we Deciders or aren't we?'

'We must certainly respond to this crisis on a real-time basis, Decider Login,' Nefred placated, as though speaking to an over-eager child. 'But appropriately.'

Garif lifted his head from the manuals he had begun examining. 'Decider Nefred is right, Decider Login.'

Nefred went on, 'I have been consulting the histories of our relationship with the Marshmen.'

'While a single defensive response has a certain appeal,' said Garif absently, scurrying across to yet another area of the galleries, 'we must consider the long-term consequences.'

'It is not a defensive response,' Login affirmed.

Nefred ignored the remark. 'We need a holistic approach, I feel.'

Garif came forward, waving a short manual in his hand. 'I wonder, Decider Login, if you have had time to consult this manual on the peripheral unit power supplies...?'

Login did not reply, did not see the point in replying. He stared at his two fellow-Deciders in mute astonishment, realising the awful truth - they were both frozen into indecision by the first real crisis of their lives. They were incapable of coping with a problem of this size.

Varsh had opened the Science Unit doors and was moving into the passageway outside when he felt a restraining hand on his arm.

'The Doctor told us to stay here,' Adric reminded him. 'But we're not doing anything,' Varsh retaliated.

Keara joined them in the doorway. 'What can we possibly do?'

'Just come on,' said Varsh, shrugging his arm free of Adric's grip and marching off quickly along the passageway. Keara went after him.

Adric hesitated, torn between obeying the Doctor or following his instincts.

Instinct quickly won, and he hurried after Varsh and Keara.

Nefred read aloud from the manual laid out before him. '"... that the marsh creatures, though they rarely speak, are possessors of intellect.