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'Actually I didn't come to see you. Although I'm sure you won't be disappointed in having me around,' the Doctor said casually.

'Especially as I think I can help you.'

Azmael stiffened, expecting Mestor to violently lose his temper.

' You help meT

That's right,' chirped the Doctor. 'Azmael has been telling me of your plan to shift the orbit of two of your planets. Very impressive.'

As he spoke, the Doctor strolled through the hologram image of Mestor, something, instinct told him, the gastropod wouldn't like.

He was right.

A sudden roar filled the laboratory, but before Mestor could follow it up, the Doctor continued. 'Mind you, moving planets isn't for amateurs, you know. The twins may possess the mathematical knowledge, but I have the empirical skill, the practical experience that will guarantee success. I mean, one false move and the planet you're trying to shift could fly off in any direction.'

He paused. If Mestor was interested in what the Doctor was saying, he would be eager to hear more. If he continued to shout and bluster, then the Doctor knew he was in trouble.

There was silence.

Although Mestor considered himself clever, the psychological strategy of bullying a victim into submission was an uninspired one. Fear, induced by bullying, can only be a useful weapon when its user can deliver the coup de grace knowing he has nothing to lose.

Silence from a bully tells his opponent far too much.

If Mestor had been as clever as he thought he was, he would have learnt that a quieter way to domination leaves the opponent far more shattered than the loudest shout.

Not only did the Doctor know he had Mestor's interest, his silence also told him he was less certain of his skill in successfully manoeuvring the planets than he was letting on.

'Well?' the Doctor said at last. 'Are you interested in my help?'

'Why should I want you to help me?'

'I would rather you were successful in your aims, than you destroy this part of the universe.'

'You are telling the truth, Time Lord?'

The Doctor let out a high-pitched, nervous laugh he had intended to sound ironic. In spite of his confidence, the pressure was beginning to tell on him as well.

In an attempt to correct his error, the Doctor pulled his voice down a full half octave and said with as much assurance as he could muster, 'You should know. I can sense your presence in my mind.'

'Then why do you resist me?'

'I'm secretive by nature. Anyway, if you were to learn everything too soon, you would have little reason to keep me alive.'

True, Doctor.' Mestor's voice was now hard and cold, aware that the Time Lord was playing with him. 'You may serve me, but should I sense any deception on your part, than I shall have you put to death immediately.'

'Oh, absolutely,' said the Doctor dismissively. 'But before I start work, I have one request to make.'

The Doctor mentally crossed his fingers. 'I believe you have a friend of mine prisoner.'

The woman from Earth. She is here.'

'I shall need her to assist me.'

The hologram flickered and the Doctor feared that its disappearance would be Mestor's dismissive answer.

'I have scanned her mind. It contains little but a scant knowledge of botany and certainly nothing that would assist you in your task.'

The Doctor cleared his throat. 'When I say I require her assistance, I mean that in a metaphorical way. Her presence inspires within me a certain tranquility that is most useful if I am to do my best work.'

Again, the hologram flickered. 'Oh, very well,' said Mestor. 'You may have your intellectual prop.'

Inside his head, the Doctor gave a small cheer. If anyone was numbering the rounds, he had definitely won the first. 'I am indeed grateful, Lord Mestor.'

As he spoke, the Doctor glanced at the grey, drawn face of Azmael. The poor man looked as though he was about to collapse.

'Perhaps you could do me one last favour,' he said cheekily.

'Azmael is in need of a mild stimulant. Perhaps Peri could bring a bottle of Voxnic with her.'

There was a loud roar and the hologram disappeared.

'Incredible,' muttered