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‘Yes, indeed they are. But they did have an interesting proposition.’

Lukos nodded at the two Time Lords on the screen. ‘It was they who engineered this scenario, Roderik. They already had the Master, had already come up with a fabulous treatment for his death, but they wanted more. They wanted something that only I could give them.’

He got up and crossed to the screen, running a hand over the smooth black plastic. ‘Do you realise how many of these we have sold in this galaxy, my dear? Do you realise just how many people we can reach and influence?’

Saarl opened his mouth to speak but Lukos waved him into silence.

‘We are the biggest, most influential company that the universe has ever seen. Bigger than IMC, bigger than InterOceanic, bigger than all the colony conglomerates put together – but do we have respect, do we have political powers. No. We are seen as nothing, as inconsequential, as mere entertainment.’ Lukos spat the word. ‘Only the Fleshsmiths, only a scabrous, rotting planet of dying freaks can see our potential, see our power.’

Saarl regarded his employer carefully. ‘What have they offered you, Lukos? What do they want you to do?’

Lukos smiled horribly. ‘They have added some interesting equipment to our transmitter, Roderik. They are badly in need of flesh, of raw materials.’ Lukos tapped the monitor screen. ‘I have offered them a captive audience. One hundred and fifty billion people is a substantial amount of flesh.’

Saarl went pale. ‘You can’t, Lukos, even you can’t do that.’

‘Of course I can’t! Do you think I’m stupid?’ Lukos snapped. ‘We can’t possibly afford to lose that many viewers.

The result would be catastrophic. We’d endanger our advertising revenue and our merchandise base.’

He lowered himself back on to the couch.

‘Those pathetic monsters assured me that I would be safe, that everyone in the building would be spared, but what would there be left for us, Roderik? What would the universe be without viewers?’

He paused, his eyes going misty again. ‘But to be the saviour of the entire universe. To thwart the plans of the evil Fleshsmiths, live on Channel 400... Ah, my boy, they would have to take me seriously then.’

He gripped Saarl’s arm fiercely. ‘They will owe me the lives of the entire galaxy, and I will collect.’

‘You can prove everything?’

‘Everything. Every scheme, every whisper.’ Lukos smirked. ‘With creative liberties, of course.’

‘And the Doctor?’ asked Saarl.

‘He is a dangerous opponent, Roderik, one who can be extremely unpredictable. Why else do you think I’m letting the Fleshsmiths take all the risks, while we just sit here in comfort and watch?’

‘Then how are you going to stop them carrying out their plan?’

Lukos patted Saarl’s shoulder. ‘Wait and watch, my boy.

Wait and watch.’

He crossed to his desk and stabbed at a control stud.

‘Auntie, activate my personal line. Tell Barrock that it’s time.’

Greg Ashby stumbled through the shadowy back streets of Blinni Prime, barely able to cope with what had been done to him. His mind focused only on Rennie Trasker, only his feelings for her kept him going. Helped him shut out the horror.

He staggered through pools of rainwater on unfamiliar limbs, trying to ignore the pixilated glimpses of himself that he caught in reflections. He shied away from people, hid when they came too close. But most of the inhabitants of the city were too wrapped up in their own lives, their own television fantasies, to worry about another shuffling figure in their midst.

Some got a little too close, some did see what lay under the robes, but they scurried away quickly, the fear in their eyes telling Ashby that they would not sleep well ever again.

He stumbled against the rear of a building. A flickering monitor inside gave the alleyway a blue sheen. Ashby stared at the screen.

That was where Rennie would be. With Lukos. In the studio building.

He shouldn’t be out here in the rain.

He had to get to the Channel 400 building.

The Doctor pulled himself painfully through