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'Quite pleasant?!' The Master rubbed a bruised shoulder. 'They were extremely rough.'

'At least they didn't kill us,' said the Doctor. 'And they had the sense to relieve you of your gun.'

The loss of the gun obviously worried the Master. To cover his concern he turned to the series of wall pictures. 'Don't you think this is fascinating, Doctor? The whole story of the planet is here.'

The Doctor took another look at the crude pictures. 'If it is, perhaps you'd be good enough to explain it to me.'

'Delighted,' said the Master. 'This underground city was once the centre of a great civilisation. Through genetic engineering they developed a super-race.'

'The ones in long robes,' said the Doctor, 'with animal faces?'

'That's right...' The Master was about to continue, but the Doctor interrupted, 'You've deduced all that from these pictures?'

'Gracious no,' said the Master. 'It was all in the files of the Time Lords, which I was able to acquire.'

'Why are you so interested in the history of this planet?' asked the Doctor.

'This super-race,' said the Master, 'developed a super-weapon. Then some degeneration set in in the life strain, and they never used it'

'I see,' said the Doctor, the pictures now making more sense to him. 'And the super-race have become the priests of a lunatic religion that serves machines which they think of as gods?'

'Something like that,' said the Master.

'Well, I think I should remind you that this religion included sacrifice,' said the Doctor, 'and my guess is that we are the intended victims.'

'Surely two brains such as ours,' said the Master, 'can overcome that problem, especially when the Doomsday Weapon, as it is called, is within our grasp.'

'What do you hope to do with this weapon?'

The Master pulled at his beard, contemplating the prospect. 'There may never be any need to use it. The mere threat of its use can hold the whole galaxy to ransom.'

The Doctor said, 'How did you know that these awful IMC people would be coming to this planet?'

The Master was about to answer as the door slowly opened. The Doctor noticed that the Master's hand quickly slipped into his tunic pockets, although he had no gun there now. The long-robed creature with the otter face slowly entered, followed by a phalanx of Primitives.

'Perhaps I should have mentioned,' the Doctor told the Master, 'that I'm known in these parts. I got away with my life once, but it certainly won't happen again.'

But the Master wasn't listening. 'We come in peace and friendship,' he said loudly to the otter face. '1 wish to talk with the Guardian of the Doomsday Weapon.'

As the priest stared at the Master blindly, the Master's hand suddenly came from his pocket clutching a handful of tiny silver capsules which he threw on to the floor. With his other hand he produced a gas-mask and held it to his face. As the capsules cracked on the floor each emitted a cloud of gas. The Primitives clutched their throats, choking for air, eyes streaming with tears, and the priest wheeled round in circles screaming. 'This way,' said the Master to the Doctor through his gas-mask, 'and do try to hold your breath.'

As the Master hurried out of the room he saw that one of the choking Primitives now had his gun attached to a waist-band. The Master ripped it off the band, then rushed out of the mom. The Doctor, covering his mouth and nose with a handkerchief, hurried after him.

Escaping the gas and the the demented Primitives, the Master ran blindly down one corridor after another, the Doctor on his heels. Finally, the Master stopped and removed his gas-mask. He kept his gun aimed at the Doctor.

'You realise,' said the Doctor, 'that if they catch us now they will certainly kill us?'

'Then let as avoid being caught,' said the Master. With his free hand he producedfrom a pocket a tattered old map and studied it carefully. 'I think we are very near to our goal.'

'Since I've been no use to you up to now,' said the Doctor, 'why do you want me to come along?'

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