The Doctor stood in the main street, at bay.   As he'd fled his pursuers, the
streets around him had quickly filled up with Isconians, and it hadn't taken
him long to realize that the entire town seemed to have turned out to find him.
He'd made straight for the perimeter, only to find that it was already too
late - the village was surrounded.
   Roving groups of searching Isconians had played him back and forth across 
the town like a cat with a mouse.  He'd sneaked once through the center of the 
village, hoping to break through the lines of searchers where they were least 
concentrated, only to find himself caught.
   Well, so he'd underestimated the Isconians' zeal.  He'd been in worse situations 
before.  Hard to think of one at the moment...
   "It's nice to be popular, but *this* is a bit much," he muttered disconsolently, 
as he stood, ringed by a huge mob of excited, celebratory Isconians.  Evidently, 
being able to participate in the hunt like this was an honor, as well as entertaining.
   How nice for them.
   Well, at least he should have given Grace and Brian enough time to get away, 
the Doctor mused hopefully.
   A merry shout went up from the crowd as several Isconians made their way 
through the line of natives.  It was Baranac and his 'honor guard'.
   "I don't suppose you would have the openness of mind to consider that labeling 
me as one of your 'Offerings' might be a mistake?" the Doctor inquired mildly, as 
the guards, stolid and unimaginative in the way of guards everywhere, flanked 
him.
   Baranac bowed to him.  "You have tested us well, 'Doctor'," the leader told 
him.  "For that we thank you.  Now we can complete the Rejoining."
   "Lucky me."
   "Yes," Baranac agreed as they started back along the boulevard.
   The Doctor sighed.  No sense of sarcasm, the spoil-sport.  Yanking the chains 
of those in authority helped keep his spirits up while being dragged about by said 
authorities...
   He grinned.  To heck with the Prime Directive anyway.  "Baranac, what if I 
told you I wasn't a part of Shamileth, but a traveler from another planet?"
   Baranac turned his head to look at him stolidly.  "What is 'planet'?"
   "Another world."
   "World?"
   Talk about no conceptual framework...
   "I suppose you think Isconia is flat."
   Baranac turned a scandalized gaze upon him.  "Of course not!  Everyone knows 
the world is a bowl!"
   The Doctor rolled his eyes.  "Oh, good.  You had me worried there for a minute."
   An Isconian approached their group, quite concerned, if the flared nose slits were 
anything to go by.  "Baranac, the 'she' has left the place of waiting," he said, 
glancing uncertainly at the Doctor, who grinned widely upon hearing the words.  
"We are searching everywhere."
   Everybody looked to Baranac for his reaction.
   He considered for a moment.  "The 'she' tests us well, as the 'Doctor' here did.  
When I know the will of Shamileth, I will tell you all."
   Fironec looked from Baranac to the Doctor and back again.  He was just opening 
his mouth to speak, when yet another Isconian rushed up.
   "Fironec!" the newcomer said urgently, before doing a double-take upon noticing 
Baranac and the Doctor and switching his attention to their leader.  "Baranac, the 
'Doctor' Offering was seen leaving the place of waiting, with the 'she'.  We are 
searching, but we haven't yet found them..."
   Baranac blinked, then looked aside at the Doctor, who shrugged modestly.
   "No matter," Baranac reassured them.  "The Doctor-Offering is here now."  
He indicated the Time Lord with a hand.
   Fironec and the other messenger blinked at the discontinuity of appearence 
between the 'Doctor' Offering standing before them and the one they'd seen, 
but they both stepped back, content to accept their leader's pronouncement.
   The group continued on, and soon arrived at a small stone building into which 
his escorts led the Doctor.  He glanced around.  Merely a temporary holding 
cell.  The guards backed out again, but Baranac remained.
   "Baranac," the Doctor said, "explain to me again why you are so sure I'm 
a part of Shamileth."
   Baranac took a deep breath, and the Doctor realized that he was about to launch 
into his litany again.
   "No," he said sharply, cutting the Isconian off.  "I don't want you to tell me 
what you've learned, I want you to tell me what you, Baranac, think."
   Baranac peered at him for a long moment.  "Don't understand," he said flatly.
   "Yes you do," the Doctor said sternly.  "You know exactly what I mean.  
Do you really think that I'm a part of Shamileth?  Yes or no?"
   "Yes."  Baranac stared straight ahead, not looking at the Doctor.
   "Why?"  One simple word.
   The Isconian swiveled his head around.  "Because it is Remembered."
   "I want to know what you think.
   "Is irrelevant," Baranac snapped.  The Doctor blinked.  He was finally getting 
an emotional reaction out of the Isconian.  It was time to read delicately - at this 
point he might either break through Baranac's conditioning, or drive him back 
into the comfort of ritual.
   "What makes a fragment of Shamileth a 'fragment'?"
   "It is incomplete," Baranac answered, seeming relieved that the questioning 
had veered away from his personal opinions.
   "So you're saying that I'm incomplete?"
   "Yes," Baranac said, tranquilly, relieved to be back on familiar ground.
   "But I'm not."
   Baranac blinked.  "You are not of us.  You must be part of Shamileth!" the 
Isconian leader declared.
   "Baranac," the Doctor said gently, "it's possible to be different and not 
be a part of Shamileth."
   The blue humanoid stared at him, bemused.
   Let me stretch your conceptual framework.  "Baranac.  If I were a lost 
part of Shamileth, which I'm not, it wouldn't be just because I'm different 
from you and your people, don't you see?"
   There was a pause while Baranac thought this over.
   "Baranac, have the Offerings to Shamethil always looked different, looked 
like me?"
   "No," Baranac admitted slowly.  "They have been of the People, and they 
offer themselves to Shamileth.  They do not 'test' us, as you have."
   "Then it is not being different per se that makes one an Offering."
   "Noo..." Baranac conceded.  He looked up at the Doctor keenly.  "Why do 
you say all this?"
   The Doctor felt a twinge of hope.  Sometimes, if you were very careful, it was 
possible to work a person through the conditioning someone like the Master had 
imposed on them.  Not often, but if you carefully worried at them, prodded them 
to think...
   Almost there.  Something in Baranac could feel it, too, was fighting to come to 
the fore...
   "What was it that made someone a fragment of Shamileth, again?"
   "When one is incomplete, one Returns to Shamileth," Baranac said, automatically.  
He blinked, and shook his head sightly.
   The Doctor repressed the desire to grin widely.  Baranac finally appeared to be 
accessing his true memories of the Liturgy of Shamileth as it had been passed down 
from generation to generation of Isconian religious leaders, instead of the hastily 
implanted 'revisions' the Master had evidentally imposed upon him.
   And the clincher:  "Baranac, I am different.  But I am *not* incomplete."
   Baranac turned to stare at him.
   "Therefore, I don't need to return to Shamileth," the Doctor concluded reasonably, 
spreading his arms wide.
   Baranac gazed at him and nodded, slowly.  "I understand.  But then why are you 
here?"
   The Doctor approached the door.  "Well, if you'll just let me out, I'll find my 
friends, and we will return whence we came."
   Baranac thought.  "Your friends.  The 'she'?"
   The Doctor smiled.  "Yes.  And another 'he'."
   Baranac turned.  "Open the door," he called to the guards outside.
   But when the door swung open, it wasn't an Isconian who stood facing them.
   It was the Master.
   Even as the Doctor took a step forward in instinctive outrage at the sight of his 
old rival, the Master leaned forward, caught Baranac's eyes with his gaze, and 
undid in seconds all the Doctor's painstaking work.
   "Hello, Baranac.  I see you have the Doctor-Offering, at last.  You and your 
people will indeed be honored today."
   Baranac blinked several times as the implanted behavioral pathways were 
reinforced.
   "No!" the Doctor protested.  "Baranac, don't listen to him!  He's deceiving 
you!  You speak for all your people - you can't let someone like him distort 
your thinking!"
   Too late.  Baranac turned to him.  "It is you who test us, Offering.  It was 
well done, but our faith has held - it is now time for you to be returned to 
Shamileth."  At his gesture, several guards stepped into the cell to take charge 
of the Offering.
   The Doctor shrugged angrily free of the guards and glared at his nemesis.  
"How very convenient for you," he snapped.  "One of the few theocratic cultures 
where the people follow their religious leader utterly, with unquestioning faith."
   "Yes, I thought so," the Master agreed, pleasantly.  "And if it just so happens 
that I have the ear of their ever-reborn Prophet..."  He shrugged elaborately.
   The Doctor eyed his nemesis narrowly.  When gloating, he tended to lay it on 
pretty thick.
   Baranac suddenly addressed the Master.  "The 'she' Offering has escaped, and 
we have not been able to find it yet."
   The Master waved a hand negligently as he turned away.  "We have the Doctor.  
That's all we really need right now."
   "But all Offerings must be Rejoined..."
   The Master whirled.  "And I just told you it doesn't matter.  I am of Shamileth - do 
you question its will?" he snapped, again locking eyes with the Isconian.
   "No.  It shall be as you have said," Baranac replied, looking down diffidently.


"We should find the Doctor before we go," Grace said stubbornly, looking around 
as they hurried along the dimly-lit street, thankful for the cover of night.  Jervol, as 
their Isconain companion had named himself, followed, his green eyes alight with 
curiosity.
   "Grace, he said to wait for him at the TARDIS.  He's probably already there, 
waiting for us!" Brian protested.
   "Then why do I get the feeling that he has something to do with that crowd over 
there?"
   Brian hesitated, staring back at her.
   "You feel it too, don't you?" she accused.
   He dithered, glancing from the night-shrouded hills back to the lights and murmur 
of voices coming from the village square.
   "We could just check, before we go..."
   "Is Presentation."
   Grace and Brian both turnedto look at the Isconian, startled to be reminded of 
his presence.  "What?"
   "Is the Presentation of the Offering to the People."
   A look of realization came over Grace's face.  "Like they did with me, you mean."
   "Yes.  Was there.  Saw you."
   She shook her head.  "But I thought you didn't believe I was a part of your god...."
   "Don't believe.  Still wanted to see."
   "Jervol," Grace asked earnestly, "what will they do after this Presentation?"
   "The Rejoining."
   "Brian, we've got to do something now!"
   He stared at her, his face twisted in perturbation.  "But if they catch us-!"
   "They won't," she declared, confidently, and strode forward, tugging on his 
arm.  "Come on!  We've got to stick together."


The Doctor watched calmly as Isconian after Isconian paraded past him and his 
'honor guard'.  Baranac stood at his side and the Master stood behind them.  If 
the Doctor felt any discomfort from the malice of his rival's gaze, he didn't show it.
   The Doctor glanced aside at the Isconian leader, and Baranac returned his gaze.  
They looked at each other for a few moments, before another supplicant stepped 
forward to greet them and Baranac had to turn his attention away.
   It was definitely keen intelligence he saw in those eyes, not zombie-like compliance, 
the Doctor noted.  Despite the sway the Master held over Baranac, there might still 
be a chance to again break through the hypnotic conditioning.  Whether he'd have 
the chance to talk to Baranac again without the Master's interference was another 
matter.
   Well, at least Grace and Brian had gotten away.  He could just about endure the 
Master's smug satisfaction, knowing that his friends were taking advantage of this 
chance he was giving them to escape.  Whatever happened now, at least it was just 
between him and his rival...


"It looks like everybody's there," Brian whispered hoarsely, as he peered cautiously 
around the corner of the building behind which he, Grace and Jervol were hiding.
   "Let me see!" Grace demanded, wriggling forward to look.  "Oh, God..."  her voice 
trailed off as she got her first look at the Doctor.  He looked much the same as he had 
on that New Year's Day when he'd said good-bye and left in his TARDIS.
   They stared in dismay for a few minutes as the line of Isconians wound by.
   "There he is!" Grace hissed suddenly.  Her voice had turned hard as flint.  "Behind 
him - it's the 'Master'!"
   Brian looked at her, surprised by the venom in her voice.  "Where?" he asked her, 
leaning forward.
   "There," she told him, pointing out the blond man where he stood, partially obscured 
by the Doctor's guards.  Even from here, she could see the smug expression on his 
face.  "That bastard."
   Brian was shocked.  Grace caught his puzzled glance.  "You don't know what he 
did-"  She looked quickly away.  "We've got to do something.  We are *going* to 
do something," she said grimly, her hand clenching into a fist.
   Brian looked at her, eyebrows raised.  "Grace, everyone in this town is in that 
square!  Well, except Jervol, here..."
   Even as he spoke the words, though, their Isconian companion stepped forward.
   "Where are you going?" Brian sputtered.
   "To the Presentation.  Want to see."
   "I knew it!  You're going to turn us in!"  Brian stepped forward, fists clenched.
   Jervol was nimble.  Even as the taller man moved toward him, the Isconian 
slipped aside.  "Dammit, stay still!" Brian exclaimed.
   "Brian, we haven't got time for this!" Grace hissed, exasperated.  Jervol 
cocked his head at Grace's words.  "Will not tell - want to see."  In the twinkling 
of an eye, the Isconian disappeared into the night.
   "Great; now he's gone to warn the others," Brian growled.  "Let's get out of 
here!"
   "Well, if you hadn't scared him off, he might have helped us!" Grace muttered, 
disgusted.  "Brian, don't you see?  The Master went to all this trouble just to 
get the Doctor!" she exclaimed, pointing to the ritual unfolding before them.
   "Grace, I don't like this any more than you, but what can we do against all 
of them?!"  Brian stared, wishing heartily that he hadn't agreed to Grace's demand 
to come look.  The thought of just leaving the Doctor behind to some horrible fate 
made him feel sick, but what could they do against the whole village?  The Doctor 
had told him to go, had wanted him to go, had practically ordered him to go...
   That crazy alien had dragged him into this adventure, but he didn't think he could 
live with himself if he just left him...
   Grace stared back at him, her face contorted with worry.
   "Do you know what they're going to do to him?" he prompted desperately.
   "They told me we were to be 'offerings' the this 'Shamileth, some sort of sacrifice."
   Brian stood in agonized indecision.  What the hell could he say to a town of 
aliens, for cripes sake, to convince them to just let them all go?
   The line of natives was nearing the end.  Grace grasped Brian's arm.  "They're 
almost done."


The last few blue humanoids were passing by the Doctor and Baranac.
   The Doctor's attention was caught by a set of keen eyes that suddenly looked 
up at him, displaying none of the slavish devotion of the rest of the villagers.
   The native bowed slightly, then hesitated, glancing quickly at Baranac.  Then, 
he stepped forward and whispered, "Saw the Others.  Going away."
   The Doctor looked at him sharply.  "Others?"
   The Isconian nodded.  "Two like you.  Different.  Leaving."
   The Doctor smiled.  "Thank you."
   Jervol glanced askance at the Master.  "Not of Shamileth!" he blurted out in a 
low voice.
   Behind them, Master leaned forward.  "What did he say?!" the renegade 
demanded.
   Baranac shrugged.  "Didn't hear," he replied, as Jervol glanced wildly at the 
glaring Master and skittered away.
   Baranac abruptly stepped forward and said:  "We go now to the place of 
Rejoining!  Follow us!"
   Baranac lead the way out of the square.  Immediately behind, the Doctor's 
guards prodded him forward.  The Master strolled along behind them, and the 
entire village followed.
   And behind them, Grace and Brian slunk, full of fear and indecision.





To be continued...








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