When nothing horrible appeared out of thin air to attack him, Brian Dempster
calmed enough to gingerly accept the offer of a seat.  He sat down carefully in 
one of the comfortable chairs that stood to one side of the Console, next to the 
library alclove.  The Doctor sat down opposite him.
   Brian glanced around at the books and antiquities on the shelves around them, 
at the stone walls with their arcane carved motifs, among them a strange seal that 
he'd never seen before, and a bearded man's head.
   "Gee," he remarked, slightly bemused.  "I didn't know I had such a good 
imagination.  I've never seen this stuff anywhere before."
   The Doctor tilted his head to peer owlishly at his guest.  "What makes you so 
very certain that this is all a dream?" he inquired mildly.
   Brian stared back at him, unnerved.  The Doctor saw the now familiar flash of 
fear in the man's eyes.
   "Well, come on; you can't just be in your own house, and then suddenly end 
up somewhere else!  I must've fallen asleep.  That's the only explanation that 
makes sense..."  He trailed off.  "Why do you keep looking at me like that?!" he 
suddenly snapped.
   The Doctor blinked.  "I'm sorry; was I staring?  It's just that I find it a bit hard 
to understand why you find this all so disturbing."  He waved a hand in illustration 
as he glanced around the Console Room.  "That you don't have the imagination 
to believe the input of your own senses," he finished somewhat challengingly, 
looking back to his guest.
   Brian frowned at the insinuation, and the Doctor supressed a smile.  When one 
way does not work, try another.
   "Yeah, well, if this is all so real, how did I get from my place to here without 
even knowing it?" Brian demanded.
   "You remember nothing?"
   Brian considered.  "Well, now that you mention it, besides that I thought there 
was someone in the house...I remember that I was outside.  Yes, I was outside.  It 
was cold."  He frowned.  "I was going somewhere - I had to get to somewhere.  
Very important."  He looked up suspiciously.  "Was that you in my house?"
   The Doctor shook his head.  "Not me, Mr. Dempster, but someone I know.  Not 
a friend.  He is an expert at manipulating minds, and tonight he manipulated yours."
   Brian looked back at him, a strange expression on his face.  "What, d'you mean 
I was hypnotized?"
   "Somewhat more complicated than your average 'hypnotism', Brian, but basically, 
yes."
   "Why?!"
   "He intended to cause your death, and in doing so, to ruin Grace."
   "Grace!  What does she have to do with this?!"
   "Everything," the Doctor admitted with a sigh, momentarily glancing down.  
Brian's expression shifted at the sight of his host's obvious worry.
   The Time Lord looked up again at his guest, desiring absolution.  "Grace is in 
terrible danger, Brian, because of me.  The Master, the man who hypnotized you 
tonight, wants to hurt her, to strike back against me.  He's taken her.
   "She helped me once when I had no one else to turn to, despite the fact that she 
found all of this as unbelievable at first as you do.  She helped save me, and all 
your planet.
   "It's my turn to help her now."
   Brian stared at the man in front of him, his mind awhirl.  What was all this he 
was hearing-?  It sounded incredible, crazy, a dream-
   Yes; only in a dream could things be this strange.  Well, he'd probably wake 
up soo-
   "Brian," his host asked earnestly, leaning forward.  "Will you help me?"
   Brian stared back, bemused.  Well, it was obvious now that this was some sort 
of guilt dream over his break-up with Grace.  Perhaps if he played along, it would 
help him resolve his feelings.  She'd been too picky and often not there for him, 
but he had to admit, deep down inside, that he hadn't been the easiest person to 
live with; he could sometimes be grouchy, occasionally snappish.  It was the stress 
of his job, of course, but he knew he should try not to let it get the best of him.
   "Yes; all right," he said, feeling humble and virtuous.
   A smile broke out over the Doctor's face, instantly transforming him.  "Excellent!" 
he exclaimed, suddenly jumping up from his seat.  "We have no time to lose!  The 
TARDIS is tracking them now; the instant they land, she will let us know.  We must 
be ready!"
   "For what?"
   The Doctor spread his arms wide.  "For anything!  For everything!  For a struggle 
to the death, most likely..."  He looked at his guest and saw the man staring back 
at him with wide eyes.  "Well, all right, perhaps that was overstating the case a 
little.  Though the Master never fails to be disagreeable, every time I run into him.  
Oh!" he exclaimed suddenly.  He jammed his hands into his coat pockets and 
began to rummage around, searching for something within.  "Considering what 
happened the last time we met, I'd say...a struggle to the death it will probably 
be," he concluded energetically.  "Except he doesn't play fair."
   "How do you mean?" Brian asked carefully, humoring him.
   "He's used up all his lives, yet he keeps escaping the grip of Death," the Doctor 
informed him, a touch darkly.  "Doesn't know when to pack it in."
   Brian considered that as the Doctor resumed his search.  Was it true that if you 
died in your dreams, you died for real?  He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, 
then twitched, startled, as the Doctor suddenly let out a triumphant exclamation.
   "Ah-ha!"  He yanked a white paper bag out of his right-hand pocket, then leaned 
forward.
   "But I have been a poor host," he said, contritely.  "Brian Dempster, would 
you like a jelly-baby?"  He extended the open bag towards his guest.
   Brian peered at his host uncertainly, then glanced at the bag.  The way he'd said 
that...it was as if it was symbolic, or something.  This must be something important 
in the dream that he should do.  He reached carefully forward for one of the 
'jelly-babies', removing a small red-colored jelly candy shaped, yes, like a baby.
   He held it up, staring at it.  Did this stand for the fact that he and Grace were 
obviously never going to stay together, get married, and have any kids?  He 
looked up at the 'Doctor' character, who was watching him closely.  Was he 
supposed to really eat it, was that part of the ritual?
   The Doctor smiled encouragingly.  "Go ahead; try it.  They're good."
   Well, the Doctor seemed to be an important part of this dream, and he hadn't 
done anything bad to him (so far), so...
   Brian Dempster took a bite out of the candy.  It was strawberry-flavored.  He 
finished it, then looked expectantly at what he now considered to be the guiding 
figure of his dream.
   "Good?"  Brian nodded cautiously in response.  "Have some more.  Take 
several; they're small."  The Doctor again offered him the bag.
   Brian's eyebrows rose slightly.  What was he supposed to make of *this*?  He 
reached in and scooped up a small handful.
   The Doctor also picked several out and began to munch them as he wandered 
away from the chairs, muttering to himself.
   Brian was beginning to feel somewhat more relaxed.  Usually you could tell 
pretty fast when a dream was going to be a nightmare; so far, this one merely 
ranked up there with the bizarre.  He glanced about, and decided to risk having 
a real look around.  You were supposed to be able to learn things about yourself 
from what you saw in dreams...
   He got up and began to wander about the large, Gothic room.
   "Looks like...a church," he muttered to himself.  "Well, we'll never get married.  
Guess that explains that..."
   He stuck the remaining uneaten candies in a pocket and stood, hands on hips, 
staring at the strange six-sided console in the middle of the room.  "What in 
the heck is this?" he asked no one in particular.
   "That is the TARDIS Control Console," someone answered right next to him, 
and he jumped, turning to glare at the 'Doctor', who had suddenly appeared 
behind him.
   "Oh.  Control," Brian said, dully, glancing back to the console.  Well, that 
one was easy.  He wanted control over his own life; didn't everybody?  Then 
again, maybe this was just reminding him that he couldn't control his relationships.  
Right; that was it - you couldn't have everything go the way you wanted it.
   No kidding, he thought sullenly.
   Brian walked over to the shelves of books he'd seen while sitting in the easy 
chair, and began to scan the shelves, feeling intrigued.  Maybe, he mused, feeling 
amused for the first time since he'd realized he was having a dream that he 
couldn't seem to wake up from, there'd be something really obvious, written 
on or in one of the books.  Books stood for self-knowledge, right?  What better 
(and more clever) way for his subconscious to tell him what he needed to know 
than in a book?
   Grinning, he reached forward for a volume.  Pulling it out and opening it to 
the title page, he saw that it was a copy of 'Journey to the Center of the Earth', 
by Jules Verne.
   Hunh.  Science Fiction.  He flipped quickly through the pages but saw nothing 
but printed text.  Looking more closely at the title page, he noticed that it was a 
very old-looking book, bound in cloth, though in very good condition.  There 
was an almost illegible scrawl on the opposite page.  Squinting, he saw that it 
read...Jules Verne.  It had been autographed by the writer.
   "Wow, this would really be worth something in the real world!" he exclaimed 
spontaneously, wondering if this was his way of telling himself to start investing 
in rare books.
   The Doctor's eyebrows flew up.  "In the real world-?" he replied, sounding 
slightly indignant.  "Oh - I see.  You still think you're dreaming all this," he 
realized, spreading his arms wide as he glanced around the Console Room and 
its comfortable niches set along the sides.
   He walked toward where Brian stood warily frozen, still holding the book he'd 
been perusing, then stopped a couple of meters away, eyeing the young man 
critically.
   "Normally it wouldn't matter," the Doctor told him.  "But where we are going, 
for you to assume that you are in a dream from which you will awaken the 
moment things become dangerous could prove deadly."
   Brian stared back at him.  Uh-oh.  He'd done something wrong.  It must've 
been the books - he'd been thinking of all the money he could make on first 
editions like these.  Greedy.  Bad.  He hastily replaced the book on the shelf 
and stepped away from the stacks.
   The Doctor watched this bemusedly.  "What will it take, I wonder, to convince 
you?"
   Brian swallowed uneasily.  "Look...I'm sorry about the books, okay?"
   "The books?  Oh, never mind that!" the Doctor told him generously, stepping 
next to him and throwing an arm around his shoulder as the other man flinched.  
"You can look through the library any time you want!  But the issue here is how 
to get you to participate fully in this reality.  I'm normally loathe to define 
any being's reality for them, but I've much more experience in this sort of 
situation, so it really would be best for you to follow my lead."
   Brian stared at the bizarre fellow, unnerved.
   The Doctor stood, momentarily pondering.  "Ah - I have it!" he exclaimed 
suddenly, removing his arm from Brian's shoulder.  He glanced at his guest, 
a mischevious glint in his eyes.  "Come on - there's something I want to show 
you."
   Thorougly bemused, Brian followed his 'Dream Guide' through the Gothic 
room, out a door in back, and down passageway after winding passageway.
   Eventually they came to another door through which the Doctor led him.  
Brian stepped into a high-ceilinged room that, in contrast to the rest of the 
dreamscape he'd seen, was a calming blue-green.  In the center of the room 
was a beautiful old-fashioned tiled swimming pool.
   Brian stood at the edge of the pool, wondering what it symbolized.  His 
guide came up beside him and clapped him companionably on the back.
   Then he gave him a hard shove.





To be continued...








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