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By Root 271 0

'Perhaps that explains then why you are so mistaken. Maria and I gave all my subjects a full and rigorous physical examination only two weeks ago, to check they were being in no way affected by any of my treatments. Didn't we, Maria?' Maria nodded and deposited his breakfast back in front of him. This time Roley pushed it away, sighing. 'Crikey Moses, Doctor, I'm really not the barbarian you take me -'

The Doctor cut across him. "There is a cystlike deposit a good couple of inches long in his shoulder, directly underneath the scar which marks the position of its last manifestation.'

'Manifestation?' scoffed Roley. 'What kind of medical terminology is that?'

'This is no conventional trauma. Do you believe it possible that one incident of mental seizure could generate a membranous sac of semisolids that size in less than a day?'

'Possible,' argued Roley, 'if not well documented.'

'I think that explanation suits you because it has no place in your attempts to rationalise the situation,' snapped the Doctor.

'My attempts? If this is the case -'

'It is. 'The Doctor's voice was again low and compelling. 'It is also the case that Austen has demonstrated remarkable strength in ripping through his straitjacket and throwing me all over your euphemistic Dreamland.'

Roley got to his feet, sending his chair flying, his voice high-pitched. 'You picked a fight with a patient in my care?'

The Doctor rose also. 'He's unwell, he attacked me.'

'I dread to think what damage you may have done to him.'

'He was acting psychotically, imagining he was in hell, in the cave.'

'Vivid hallucinations,' declared Roley. 'It merely strengthens my resolve to get to the bottom of all this.'

The Doctor took a deep breath. 'Nurse Bulwell -' he looked at her, meaningfully - 'eventually administered a sedative and put him out. Now I need to perform a biopsy on that growth in his shoulder.'

'The growths were examined when first removed, they were perfectly benign.'

'No, Dr Roley, they simply weren't considered malignant by your medical science. That doesn't mean they weren't serving some higher function.'

Roley stared. 'Our medical science?'

Maria bristled. 'A higher function?'

The Doctor looked at the scepticism on their faces, and forced himself to calm down. 'If you're right, Dr Roley, and there's some kind of mental phoenix rising from the ashes of the ancient racial unconsciousness in these people, then that "cyst" could be significant in determining its purpose.'

Roley sat back down. 'And you wish to undertake this examination?'

The Doctor nodded, slowly for once.

Roley looked at Maria. 'And you'll work under our supervision?'

'With my own equipment, yes. As long as you cease your meddling with the minds of your other guests until I have results.'

'I can't put all my research on hold, man - I'm paying these people by the day,' Roley protested.

'Please, it's important -'

'I think he's right,' said Maria.

Both men looked at her. 'You do?' asked the Doctor, surprised.

'I saw what Austen was like. Totally psychotic. It wasn't right.'

Roley looked pathetically forlorn. 'But, Maria -'

The Doctor looked beseechingly at him. 'I'm a fast worker, Dr Roley. You won't have to wait long. I just need to get some apparatus from my... store outside, and I'll set up wherever you wish.'

Roley still looked deflated. 'One of the spare rooms,' he said, eventually.

'Maria, ask Cynthia to make arrangements, would you?'

'Splendid!' beamed the Doctor. But, when Maria left the room, his face furrowed into concern.

'What is it now?'

'Whatever I find, I'd advise you to be very careful in proceeding down this road with your subjects, Dr Roley.'

Roley gave a short, hollow laugh. 'Seems you're minding things very effectively for me, Doctor. What's the matter? Worried our "mental phoenix" will object to having its wings clipped a little?'

The Doctor leaned forward. 'If something that ancient were to return from the dead, would it countenance any limits to its flight?'

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