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'So you think those people were mad? Insane?'

'Yes,' said the Doctor, sadly.'I think so.'

'Well, it's more than possible there's an area set aside for psychotically insane criminals from some race I've never heard of, if it's any help.'

"That's very helpful, Anstaar,' said the Doctor, solemnly.

'But was that man a self-made lunatic or were the implants responsible?'

The Doctor looked at her as if to ask her to show more respect. She remembered the way he had cradled the dying man. The same way she'd seen her father cradle her as a newborn on her mother's holovids.

'I would say the implant came after. The laughing fellow, did you get a good look at his back? His backbone looked like it had been strengthened by some kind of alloy. And the scar left behind looked comparatively recent.'

He thrust his hands deep in his pockets. 'A good supply of uncomprehending guinea pigs, handily isolated from prying eyes. It's obscene.'

'You think whoever put these people here sees them as nothing but test subjects for new technology?'

'I have that most unpleasant thought in my mind, yes.'

'So what we really need to prove your hypothesis,' said Anstaar, pulling a face,'is another violently insane psychotic.'

'Wait,' said the Doctor abruptly, pushing her against a wall. She felt its soft surface sliding against her weight. 'I think we might have found one.'

Ahead, through the mist on a turn in the narrow mountain path they were on, was a figure. The Doctor peered at it intently.'Another man, I think,' he muttered.

'Well, off you go then. Put your theory to the test.'

'All right.' The Doctor smiled a little nervously, then walked up to the vague figure in the haze.

***

The platform in the pink cave suddenly flared with a brilliant white light. As it faded to a milky glow, the huge brute shape of a Kusk gained corporeal form. As it lumbered off, disorientated, into the wet air of this part of the planet, another pattern of light began to form behind it.

***

'Hello! I'm the Doctor.'

He cringed inside. Not the way to gain the trust of a sick man with a psychotic nature. He carried on quickly.

'Which is not to suggest you need a doctor or any such nonsense. It just happens to be what people call me. I've thought of changing it lots of times, but what's in a name, eh? What's yours, for example?'

The figure didn't speak, so the Doctor carried on advancing, warily. 'I wonder, have you noticed anything odd around here lately? Or perhaps anything remotely normal? That would probably stand out a little more.'

The man was close enough for the Doctor to make out his features. The eyes were blue, the face bored. He was wearing a uniform, he was someone in authority. But there was someone standing behind him.

The same someone in authority. And the same someone behind him.

The Doctor rounded the corner and saw a procession of the same man, fifty times over and more, fading away out of sight in the hazy air. On each version, the expression on the face varied ever so slightly from the one before and after, the pose shifting subtly by gradations. The more the Doctor looked, the less real each personification of the man seemed, as if each were some kind of projection. The Time Lord gingerly touched the man's shoulder, then gave a small cry of alarm and snatched his hand away. His fingernails had grown by about a centimetre.

He chewed them thoughtfully on the way back to Anstaar, and thought of Sam. Terrible habit; he murmured, pulling at a hangnail with his teeth.

'You got the proof you were looking for?' she asked him, nervously.

'No. Not exactly.' He held out his hand for her to take. 'But cheer up. I Ve found us some company for the journey onwards.'

Anstaar allowed herself to be led towards the shape in the mist.'You've what?'

'Yes,' replied the Doctor, airily. 'You may find him a little repetitive after a while, but trust me - stand too close to him and you just won't know where