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She stood on tiptoes to point to an intersection. 'And that's where we were standing when Legless the Lush waltzed past us. And...' She trailed off.

Then she turned and looked at him, urgency shining in her blue eyes. So where's the room we landed in?'

'Well, if this map is to be believed, we landed outside - or in the lining of the hull.'

'But we didn't!'

'True.'

'And those scratch marks - they led away from the way we got out -'

'Which would suggest there's quite some area unshown on the plan, yes.

Maybe they ran out of paper.'

'Maybe that's just part of the base,' reasoned Sam, doubtfully, although she suspected the grey shading filling the rest of the paper represented the dull landscape outside. 'Maybe there's another map somewhere else showing the rest of it.'

'Hope so! I'd hate to think we'd landed in a figment of our imaginations.' He frowned. 'But you'd think they'd put up that map near to where we came out ourselves. And why make the door invisible?'

'Maybe there're places here visitors aren't meant to know about,' said Sam, remembering the approaching ship. She shivered, then smiled. 'I'm spooking myself here.'

'We really do need to speak to someone, don't we?' The Doctor strode back over to the other doorway. 'I refer my friend to the exit I was due to make earlier!'

Sam pulled down the map.'We'd better split up. We'll cover the ground quicker that way.'

'We'll just head for the control room,' said the Doctor, breezily.

'What if it's automated?' protested Sam. 'I'll take the control room. You take the sleeping quarters. Looking at this map, our mate the drunk could've been heading for either. And there's bound to be someone in one of them.'

'All right,' agreed the Doctor. 'But take care. Explain you're here to sack their cartographers.'

'Or,' smiled Sam,'that I'm peddling Alka-Seltzer.'

***

'Right, that's it. I've had enough.'

Anstaar tensed herself. What was the lunatic talking about now?

The lights suddenly flared into life. Anstaar gave a cry of alarm and fell back, holding her eyes. The back of her head connected with something hard and pointed, and, had she been able to see anything in the sudden onslaught of the fluorescent lights, she reckoned it would be stars.

'Got you now!' came a snarl from across the control room.

The black speckles finally left her vision. Vasid was clomping towards her, the stealth he had tried in the darkness abandoned now, the pent-up frustration finally manifesting itself in an exclamation of triumph. He grabbed hold of her and pulled her to her feet. She tried to push his face away from her, but one of her fingers found its way into his mouth. She suddenly realised he was sucking on it, slobbering like a baby.

The revulsion gave her strength. She kicked him hard in the crotch, and backed away. She realised she'd been biting one of her tongues, and that she was swallowing blood. Anger.

No, she wasn't going to back away any more. She'd done that enough, and now she was going to fight back. She looked behind her for some kind of weapon.

That was when Vasid brought the distress-call handset down hard on the back of her neck and everything went black once again.

And that was when Vasid bundled her up into a fleshy ball of legs and arms and squeezed her into the matter transmitter.

***

The Doctor walked briskly back along the corridor to the intersection. He wasn't happy about letting Sam go alone, but she was right. They needed answers in a hurry. And if she did run into trouble, well, it wouldn't be the first time. She could handle it.

His footsteps echoed all around the dull metal of the walls and floor.

Suddenly he came to a halt, skidding slightly on the smooth flooring. He turned to the wall and ran a hand over it, firmly but gently. Then the other, almost as if trying to polish the wall with his palms. He peered at the surface as if appraising a painting, looking first one way then the other.

'Striations?'he whispered