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'Still managed to break your nasty little machine, though, didn't I?' the Doctor said, the acidity of his words belied by his polite tone and charming smile. 'If I hadn't you wouldn't have thrown me in the brig and waited for me to wake up. You'd have just got one of your chaps to plug into my mind print and soak up my memories and knowledge. That would have been much less bother than having the real thing running around, annoying people.'

Again Balaak paused before replying. The Zygon warlord was possessed of an unnerving stillness, like a scorpion preparing to strike. It opened its mouth, produced a gnarled, sucker-encrusted tongue, and ran it slowly over a double row of sharp, white, triangular teeth.

'It is true that our technology and your anatomy were... incompatible,'

Balaak said at last. 'However, we were able to secure a partial mind print.'

'Not enough of one to be useful, though, I'll bet,' said the Doctor.

'Useful enough. We know that you possess a time craft.'

'But you don't know how to operate it, do you?' the Doctor said, smiling.

'Not yet. But you will show us.'

'And if I refuse? No, let me guess - you'll kill my friends.'

'Slowly,' said Balaak, drawing out the word so that it echoed sibilantly around the vast, high-domed room.

The Doctor sighed. 'Yes, that's usually the kind of deal I get offered. I don't suppose it'll help if I offer you and your crew a lift to anywhere at any time in the universe?'

Balaak's eyes glittered contemptuously. 'Zygons do not accept charity from aliens. Neither do we abandon a course of action once it has been initiated.

Unlike the Time Lords, we are a proud race, Doctor.'

'Sometimes pride and stupidity are indistinguishable,' the Doctor murmured.

Again Balaak bared its teeth. The Doctor wondered whether the expression was intended as a snarl or a humourless grin.'You walked like an innocent into our trap. You are our prisoner, to whom the only choice left is to serve us or die.Who is the stupid one, Doctor?'

The Doctor pursed his lips and frowned. 'Is that a trick question?' Then he flapped his arms as though to wave Balaak to silence. 'No, no, hang on.You see, the thing is, Balaak, you're only looking at the situation from the most obvious angle. No offence, but it's a viewpoint typical of the military mind. What you're forgetting is that I might have a hidden agenda.

The fact that I haven't is neither here nor there, but then again I might be lying about that, in which case - hello, Professor.'

The greeting was directed at the familiar figure of Litefoot, who had just strolled nonchalantly into the room. In this setting he looked grotesquely, even comically, incongruous. Litefoot glanced mockingly at the Doctor before turning to Balaak.

'It's all right,' the Doctor said,'I know you're not really Litefoot. The walk's all wrong. Just give me a shout any time and I'll give you one or two pointers.

I'm free most Wednesday afternoons.'

'Be quiet, Time Lord,' Balaak hissed. 'Your inane chatter is beginning to annoy me.'

Solemnly the Doctor ran his fingers over his lips in a zipping motion.

Balaak turned back to the Zygon that was wearing Litefoot's form. 'Give me your report.'

The Zygon spoke in Litefoot's clipped, plummy tones. 'Everything went smoothly, Commander. I performed the human's daily duties with ease.

None of his fellow creatures suspected a thing.'

'Excellent. And the female? The housekeeper?'

'I informed her that the professor's house guests had departed. She accepted the information without argument.'

Balaak inclined its huge, domed head. 'You have done well, Veidra.'

'Thank you, Commander. May I have your permission to dispense with this loathsome form?'

'Has the lock that the Time Lord damaged with his sonic device been repaired yet?' asked Balaak, turning to a Zygon scientist working at a nearby console.

There was a quiver in the white Zygon's fluting voice. 'Not yet, Commander.

It was