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Fitz watched him work, both impressed by and slightly resentful of his skill.

'Why didn't Azoth set it all going the moment he arrived here? That would've sorted out his problems.'

The Doctor removed a complex latticework of crystals from the metal shell and peered at it. 'That's like an exterminator blowing up your house because it's got a cockroach infestation,' he said. 'Azoth wasn't a butcher.

His directives insisted he disrupt the civilisations he came across as little as possible.'

'Even so,' said Fitz, taking another swig. 'Makes you wonder how many planets he gave up on and wiped out before going on to the next.'

'Quite. I agree he wasn't a hundred per cent warm and cuddly.' The Doctor tentatively tapped on a crystal deep in the lattice, and sighed. 'What a mess...'

'Doctor,' announced Fitz, suddenly, 'Not wanting to cause disappointment later on by cocking up, I want you to know I am totally out of my depth.'

'Best way to learn,' the Doctor assured him.

'But I don't want to learn!'

'Best go to university, then.'

A loud banging started up on the cellar door. Fitz and the Doctor looked at each other.

'The final assault,' said the Doctor. 'It's started.'

***

'Doctor! Can you hear me in there, Doctor?'

Watson ripped away the tapestry from the small door in the wall, flanked now by Lucy, Taylor, Waller and Mrs Kreiner.

'I'm sorry?' The Doctor's voice floated up from the cellar. 'You'll have to speak up - I can't hear you.'

Watson smiled. 'It's quite a hall of mirrors you've got up there, Doctor.'

***

The Doctor stopped what he was doing and slapped his forehead. "The TARDIS. In the rush I didn't close the -' He broke off and called out. 'Sorry, Watson, I don't know what you're talking about. That's just a police box.

Perhaps you're insane or something.'

Fitz shivered as Watson laughed. 'Insane or not, I found something in there, Doctor.'

The Doctor and Fitz looked at each other.

'Go on, speak to him, girl.'

They heard a muffled groan. Even in the pale light of the cellar, Fitz could see the colour drain from the Doctor's face.

'Sam,' he whispered.

***

'Come out and face me, Doctor. Now. Or the girl dies. 'Watson paused, grabbing hold of Sam's fringe - taking care not to touch her skin just yet -

and pulling her head about for scrutiny. 'Best be quick about it, too - she's not looking too clever as it is.'

'Watson!' the Doctor yelled. 'Listen to me, my hall of mirrors: it's a time machine, a spaceship.'

***

'What are you telling him that, for?' hissed Fitz.

'I just need a little more time,' said the Doctor, feverishly making fractional adjustments to the crystal circuits.

***

Watson enjoyed hearing the fear in the Doctor's voice. "That's a little desperate, isn't it, Doctor?'

'It happens to be true, although your cynicism does you credit. 'The Doctor babbled on, while Watson tried to coax some response out of Sam, pale and sweating at his feet. 'Most villains ask me to ferry them round the universe destroying things. I have to turn them down, of course...'

'There's only one thing I want from you, Doctor,' Watson called backhand that's your head on a stick.'

'Would you mind if I provided the stick myself? Only I'm terribly fussy about hygiene...'

***

The Doctor was still working frantically as he talked. 'Nearly there,' he muttered.

'Why are they stringing it out like this?' wondered Fitz.

'Until they're strong enough to transmit this taint of theirs by thought alone, they'll be at something of a loose end.' He smiled faintly. "The 1960s. We're still in the good old days of live entertainment.'

'You still haven't told me what you're doing,' grumbled Fitz.

'Later.'

Fitz grabbed the Doctor by the shoulder and spun him round, his voice rising. 'There isn't going to be a later.'

'All right, all right,' said the Doctor. "There's barely any energy left at all in these circuits, enough for a short range pulse only.'

'The Terminal Solution?' Fitz started.