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They appeared to be at the edge of a large natural arena, with walls that edged rockily down to a flat squelching plain littered with spongy red boulders. A few birds with mauve plumage circled and swooped between vantage points overlooking the plain and their nests in the bubbly rock that housed scraps of food and sheltered the young. As Anstaar followed the flight of one of the birds into the arena, she realised that way below her, through the vaporous haze, two figures were visible, humanoid as far as she could make out. 'What are they doing?' she asked.

'Sitting down, by the look of it. Funny place for a picnic, though, don't you think?' As she was about to answer he shushed her, shaking his head, his face suddenly intent, 'listen.'

Anstaar did as she was bidden.'It's just the birds, isn't it?'

The Doctor shook his head almost imperceptibly, but the caws and shrieks of the birds continued despite his dismissal of them. 'A slightly lower pitch.'

Anstaar's face whitened a fraction in realisation. 'It's one of them down there. Screaming.'

Describing a sludgy circle, one of the figures was screeching and shaking, writhing in the thick alien soil. The other remained perfectly still.

Anstaar was frightened. Now she had identified the terrible noise, it seemed louder than ever. 'It's like an animal,' she whispered.

Without another word the Doctor had leapt over the edge of the precipice and was scrambling down the steep incline, his fine velvet coat becoming spattered with the thick mud, his shoes disappearing under layers of orange clay.

Anstaar took a deep breath of warm wet air and followed him down.

***

The Kusk Leader stood trembling with impotent rage in the control chamber. The computer was not responding properly to their manipulations.

'We cannot trace the exact location,' said the engineer, a younger Kusk than the others, falteringly. His voice had a high-pitched twist to it that made him sound constantly nervous. "The information has become confused. The computer has become one with the Prize. The two have merged.'

The Kusk Leader was outraged. "The computer was designed to stabilise the artefact. Not to become it!'

There was an uncomfortable silence, during which the Leader glared at the technician, who was tampering with the connections the humanoid had made earlier. The other Rusks looked down at the floor, a little embarrassed.

'How many Kusks do you still have in cryogenic suspension?' the Leader asked the black-skirted Kusk.

'Ten, Leader.'

'Prepare them.'

He swiped his heavy fist through the air and slammed it down on the console.'We shall send Kusk forces to every area on the planet to locate our goal. Anyone who stands in our way must be destroyed.'

'We have not sufficient numbers to achieve that in the time allowed. I suggest we send small parties to the zones surrounding the chronic leakage on the planet.'

The Leader clenched his fist. The other Kusks in the room were looking at him, more with interest than respect, he felt. Finally he nodded. 'It is most likely the Prize will be at its epicentre.'

'Or on its periphery, Leader,' said the technician."There is no way of accounting for the directional patterning of the chronal infection.'

The Leader narrowed his huge eyes. He had the uncomfortable feeling he was being mocked.'I shall arrange the detail of our troops.' He paused. 'In consultation with yourself, Technician.' The Kusk nodded.

***

Sam was sitting at the head of the camp meeting table, determined not to cry. She was flanked by two grim-looking guards, that Prince lookalike git, whose name she now knew to be Traxes, was pointing a gun straight at her, and directly in front of her was the evil smile of the elderly commissioner. She could hear blaster fire and the muffled screams and cries of each and every man as he was shot. It was a ghastly image; even focusing on the dark malevolent boss-eyes of her interrogator was a little better.

'I don't know what manner