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'I seek your help, Doctor.'

'You won't give me yours.'

'I will. In return for the service of your vessel.'

The Doctor said nothing.

Azoth tried again. 'I am old, Doctor. Infinitely old. My functioning slips from me. My covering of flesh has fallen away; I can no longer accomplish my task by stealth.' The words were tumbling out of him, speeding up; he knew he sounded desperate. 'I will repair Sam, and the other injured units, if you take me, and the Taylor unit, back in time. Let us implement the program at a point before the Beast arrive here so their taint will never be felt. Let us save humanity.'

'No.' The Doctor was emphatic. "The Beast are not murderers. Only on worlds with a population too small to support their numbers are the results of their infestation in any way dangerous.'

'We can journey throughout the universe in your vessel and save all life from their scourge.'

'We can't,' said the Doctor. 'Time travel doesn't work that way. Nor can we go back to Benelisa and save it from destruction, so don't even ask me to -'

'The girl will die without my care, Doctor.'

***

Fitz could hardly take in the drama unfolding on the monitor, but he'd understood that last bit all right. His mum, Sam, all of them. They could be saved. How hard could it be to sort all that for Golden Boy in a time machine? He squinted at the screen, trying to make out the expression on the Doctor's face, but the resolution wasn't good enough.

'I'm aware of that; said the Doctor, softly, his voice barely caught by the TARDIS auditory circuits. 'But my answer is the same.

'No.'

***

Maria flicked the needle of the syringe to check for obstructions, then shook her head at the incongruity of doing so. Old habits died hard.

She stumbled over to the sprawled-out bodies in front of her, keen to do this before the feeling fully returned to her legs, while she was still suffering the harm they'd inflicted on her. She didn't need to check on Charles to know he'd still be the same. And she could only imagine how Cynthia had suffered, the effects of that dreadful crash they'd heard. That poor girl, lying cold and dead somewhere.

These people were evil. Murderers. They deserved to die.

'Who wants to be first?' she whispered.

They seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Well, there wouldn't be much peace where they were heading. Now she'd send them on their way.

Watson first, then Lucy. Their arms were still intertwined.

'Off you go,' she said softly, leaning forward and feeling for the thickest vein in Watson's wrist. 'Hand in hand, off to hell...'

***

Azoth reached out his arms to the Doctor.

'Please?' he said.

'Azoth, I cannot do what you ask!' The Doctor seemed pained. 'It is forbidden by every rule of -'

'You shall help me, Doctor.' Azoth lurched towards him. He heard the Doctor back away.

'Repair Sam, and we'll talk about it some more.'

'She will be repaired when you have taken us back.'

'Before we go back. I insist.'

Azoth continued to advance.

***

Fitz couldn't believe what a lousy bluffer the Doctor was. He couldn't act all outraged like that and then pretend he'd go along if he got his own way first. What he should've done -

He winced as he saw Azoth strike out and send the Doctor sprawling against one of the featureless grey banks of equipment that lined the cavern. The Doctor scrambled up, hopped over Sam, and tried to lead Golden Boy away from her, to stop her being trampled.

In so doing he came too near to avoid another swiping metal arm.

***

The blow knocked the Doctor back against an instrument panel, switches and meters bruising his back through his shirt. The main door activated, but the Doctor ignored it. What good would running do?

'Take me back; Azoth whirred. It sounded as if he'd swallowed a kazoo and was chewing a block of toffee.

'Heal Sam,' the Doctor replied. Surely Azoth would soon tire of this impasse, once he'd realised he couldn't force the Doctor