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'Was it a close game?' Limb seemed ready to accept anything, his eyes burning brightly. 'Not really. I cheated.

What was at stake seemed to justify it.' 'I trust you are going to honour our arrangement?'

'Certainly, if you are.'

George Limb nodded.

'I will see to it that this place is closed down, Doctor. And you will provide me with a time machine...'

'Oh, yes.' the Doctor replied. 'That's easily done. You're sitting on one.'

With surprising speed the old man sprang to his feet.

'This thing... is the Cybermen's spacetime capsule, yes. That, believe it or not, is what they arrived in. From... oh...

centuries in the future and almost certainly the other side of the galaxy. Unfortunate, to end up on Jersey on the eve of the Second World War. Oh, well...'

With a resigned air the Doctor raised himself from his seat and squatted in front of the ugly bulk of the inert machine. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and began rubbing it hard against the dirtblack side of the machine, smearing away swathes of grease to reveal a row of dingy buttons and readouts. Slowly he began pressing buttons. The machine began to emit a low hum a throb which resonated through the floor of the derelict office.

'Yes, I see their problem. This looks like an experimental model. It would probably only have held two or three of them.

The calibrators they used to navigate this thing are on the blink. That's why they ended up here. That's why they were stuck here. Cybermen never had much of a command of time travel.'

George Limb hovered anxiously over the Doctor.

'Oh, don't worry, Mr Limb. After I've tinkered with it it will serve your purposes perfectly well. Where or perhaps I should say when would you like to go?'

'Forward, Doctor. I don't care about the year, as long as it's significantly forward. Some time in the next century should do the trick. The future!'

The door crashed open. Hartmann stood there, pistol in one hand, Ace's hair in the other.

'You have no future, old man. Neither of you. Out.'

Limb stood as if rooted to the spot. The Doctor, still crouched by the alien machine, gazed levelly at the SS

officer and said nothing.

'Don't listen to him, Doctor,'Ace muttered grimly.

Hartmann pointed the pistol directly at her head and smiled viciously.

'Who won?' he asked.

'Er, he did.' acknowledged the Doctor a little sheepishly.

'Wrong,' said Hartmann, jamming his pistol into Ace's temple.

'You both lost. Now move!'

George Limb looked archly at the Doctor.

'Prepared to sacrifice the queen again, Doctor?' he asked.

'No.' said the Doctor flatly, and began walking towards the door.

'Let's see you talk your way out of this one.' Ace now stood next to Limb, their backs to a pillar, the barrel of Hartmann's pistol hovering between them.

'Alas...' George Limb began.

'Silence!' barked Hartmann. 'Hurry up, Doctor.'

Across the room the Time Lord was scampering from Cyberman to Cyberman, checking fluid links, taking readings, wiping away the odd fleck of dust from their casings with the sleeve of his jacket.

'Yes, yes,' he said petulantly 'Excuse me...' He manoeuvred one of the labcoated scientists to one side. The flower of Germany's scientific genius stood around, muttering among themselves, watching as the little man flitted in and out of the alcoves and conduits that snaked around the dormant Cyberarmy, tutting and flapping and humming to himself.

He stopped at the end of one of the rows and patted an inert Cyberleader on the silver dome of its headcasing. 'Yes, of course,' he said to the motionless giant. 'You'll be first.' 'Is everything in order, Doctor?' asked Hartmann tensely. 'It seems to be,' the Time Lord replied. He strode back to where the SS captain held his captives at gunpoint.

'There's just one more thing to be done.'

He fished into his pocket and began rummaging around.

'Slowly, Doctor.' warned Hartmann.

'Don't panic, Captain,' the Doctor replied, withdrawing his hand. Between his thumb and forefinger he was holding