Grace froze, staring around at the alien town of stone in which they now stood, and
at the blue beings that were passing by all around them, going about their business.
   Somehow she'd assumed that wherever they were going was on Earth; she not 
even considered that they might be going to...
   "Oh my God..." she muttered, her face twisting in shock.
   "Doctor Holloway, I do hope you're not about to have a xenophobic breakdown 
on the spot."  Grace blinked and realized that the Master was addressing her, 
apparently amused by her consternation.  He leaned forward sternly.  "We've 
only just arrived - surely you could have the courtesy to wait until the Doctor 
has been lured here?"
   She stared back at him, eyes wide and forehead strained.
   One of the natives was approaching them.  The alien seemed to know the 
Master, from the unconcerned way in which it drew near.
   Grace stared.  Slightly shorter than she was, the alien had no hair, but instead 
ridges, running over the top of the its skull.  The nose was flatter and broader, 
with narrower nose holes, slits really, at the bottom.  Slightly wider hips, fairly 
similar shoulders, legs and arms.  The hands had one less finger.  Its slightly 
larger ovoid eyes were wholly green; no white sclera could be seen.  And of 
course it was blue, a light blue-gray, and wore a shift of darker blue that fell to 
just above its knobby knees.
   Now that she'd had a good look, she had to admit that the differences were 
not that drastic.  More like variations on a theme...
   She shook her head slightly.  I am looking at someone from another planet, 
she told herself.  And he's looking back at me...
   Well, okay; the Doctor and the Master were aliens.  But here - now this 
was an alien.
   The Master had turned his attention to the Isconian.  The blue humanoid flared 
its nose slits and put hands on hips slightly more protuberant than those of 
humans or Time Lords.  "This is the 'Doctor' you spoke of?"
   The Master's eyes narrowed at the Isconian's lack of comprehension.  "No, 
Baranac.  I *told* you the Doctor is a *he*.  This *she*," he told the native, as 
he shook Grace slightly in illustration, "is the reason the Doctor will come here, 
to the place of Rejoining."
   The Isconian eyed Grace noncommittally.  "He.  She.  We get them mixed 
up," it shrugged.  It stood to face Grace and bowed slightly.  "Greetings, 
Offering."  It then looked at the Master expectantly.  "This 'Doctor' will come 
soon?"
   "Most likely," the Master told it.  He turned to slant a look of malice at Grace, 
who was still staring at the blue humanoid in astonishment.
   Baranac nodded thoughtfully, the motion of his head a cross between a gesture 
of assent and a bow, as Grace, suddenly registering what her captors had said, 
turned her head to look at him sharply.
   The Master's grip on her arm tightened.  "Come along, Grace."
   The three of them traveled down what appeared to be the main thoroughfare 
of the 'village'.  Blue natives stopped to stare at them as they passed.  Grace 
glanced up and around at the stone buildings, many of which had swirling 
patterns carved on them.
   They stopped before one small building, in front of which several of the natives 
were waiting.  One opened the wooden door, and the Master pushed her roughly 
inside.  As the door was shut, he turned to their guide.
   "She will be secure here?  Well guarded?"
   The being looked back at the Time Lord with equanimity.  "Yes," it replied.  
"Of course.  As all Offerings are, in the Place of Waiting."
   The Master looked back at the Isconian narrowly for a few moments, then 
turned away.
   "See that she is," he recommended darkly, as he strode off.
   The small group of Isconians stood, watching him go.  Baranac then glanced 
meaningfully at the guards.


In her new prison, Grace turned away from the door where she'd been straining 
to hear the exchange between the Master and the natives, and glanced around the 
room.  Despite there being only one small window in the back, set high up near 
the ceiling which stretched a meter above her head, the room was not dark; 
half-globes of what looked like glass set into the walls glowed softly, lending 
a dim radiance to the room that was comforting.
   There was a lidded-pail with a hole in the top in the corner.  And although it 
was not quite the height she would have expected...
   Grace felt amusement for the first time since she'd been dragged out of her 
own space and time.  "I bet I can guess what *that* is," she declared gamely.
   Behind her, the door opened.  She whirled, startled, then backed away.  
Several of the blue humanoids were standing in the doorway, staring at her.
   She sidled into the corner near the pail.  They simply stood there, looking at 
her, then began to converse among themselves.
   Grace blinked.  It was unintelligible to her.  But she'd heard them speaking 
English just a few minutes before!  They probably didn't want her to understand 
now, were speaking their own language.
   Two began to walk towards her.  Glancing at the presumed waste bucket, the 
only object available to her as a weapon, she came to a quick decision.  She 
*could* throw it at them, but it was unlikely to do much damage.  And there 
were many more natives just outside.  She had to admit that other than locking 
her up, they hadn't done anything bad to her yet...
   So she stood waiting for them.  If they were going to take her outside, she'd 
have a better chance to escape.
   And go where?
   "What do you want?" she asked, hoping her voice wasn't quavering as much 
as it seemed to be.
   The two approaching stopped, and tilted their heads, as if puzzled.  They 
looked at each other, then at her, and made more meaningless noises at her.
   She shook her head at them.  "I-I don't understand," she told them.
   They stared back at her.  Looked like the miscomprehension went both ways.  
Then again, she might be reading too much into it...
   She looked down fearfully as one of the natives began to lift his four-fingered 
hand.  He raised it and extended it, as if asking for her hand.
   Well, she couldn't just stay in the corner forever.  Grace Holloway slowly 
lifted her hand to meet the native's.
   The alien hand reached gently to encompass hers, and her eyes widened.  For 
an instant, she felt awed.  The next moment, though, she felt somewhat silly.  
The native's clasp felt, well...rather like a human's, or a Time Lord's - warm 
and dry.
   Grace repressed a momentary impulse to laugh nervously.  What had she 
expected - for it to be slimy?
   The blue humanoid began to slowly back away, wordlessly inviting her to 
follow.  She did.
   Her guide led her outside the stone building, then down the main thoroughfare, 
wide and bustling with more blue aliens.  Grateful that no one had attacked 
her, and with no idea what to make of the fact that they had let her out of her 
prison, Grace went willingly enough.


They eventually came to a large, open space bounded by buildings.  A 'village 
square'?  Well, it certainly seemed to be fulfilling the same purpose; it was 
crowded with natives.  Despite the light cast by the sun above, large glowing 
globes similar to those within her cell had been raised high on poles to further 
light the area.
   Her guide led her through a gap in the crowd to the middle of the square, as 
around them, the assembled villages murmured and seethed.
   He stopped, and releasing her hand, stepped slightly away from her and 
began to proclaim something in a voice which carried out across the gathered 
crowd, which listened avidly.  The speaker discoursed for several minutes, 
then fell silent.  He moved to stand to her left, as she glanced nervously 
about, hoping for a clue as to what was going to happen next.     The natives 
were forming an orderly line, the front of which was beginning to approach.  
She blinked.  It was almost as if she and the native next to her, probably 
somebody important here, were a 'receiving line'...
   And sure enough, as the first natives drew near, they approached with respect 
(if bowing and quiet murmuring meant the same thing here as on Earth).  Still 
others gazed searchingly into her eyes.  What was unsettling was the fact that 
they seemed to be in awe of her.
   Then one reached forward to touch her.  She flinched instinctively, then 
stopped herself as the blue humanoid in front of her reached up to lightly 
touch the side of her face wonderingly.
   Grace realized that she was starting to interpret the humanoids' actions as 
if they were humans'; she couldn't help it.  If those weren't reactions of 
awe and wonder and respect, then they were darned similar.  Or else she 
was totally off base, and this was how they expressed hate, or something.
   Were they in awe of her because she was an alien to them, and this their 
'show-and-tell?'
   All the while, the line wound slowly by, quiet except for the brief murmured 
phrases of the...she couldn't help but think of them as 'devotees'.  Perhaps 
it was a religious ceremony.  But then why was *she* in it?
   It seemed to take quite a while for the whole line of beings to pass by them.  
Bemused, Grace stood patiently, suffering the looks and touches of native after 
native.  It might be the entire population of this place, for all she knew.  She 
found it difficult to discern any real differences between them; they all looked 
identical to her.  It was probably due to the fact that they had no hair and all 
wore the same kind of simple blue garment...
   Finally, the line wound down to a few stragglers, then came to an end.  
Grace blinked and found herself yawning.  Her native 'guide' looked quickly 
at her, in surprise and not a little consternation.
   She quickly shut her mouth.  "What?" she asked automatically, defensively.  
The native peered at her questioningly, and she suddenly guessed what had 
surprised him so.
   "What," she said, amused for the second time that day.  "You don't have 
yawns here?"
   She deliberately faked a yawn, testing her hypothesis, and he stared hard at 
her again.
   She couldn't help it - she laughed.
   All the lingering natives gaped, obviously astonished.  When she did nothing 
else immediately shocking, they began to converse animatedly among themselves.
   Amazing.  Something as simple as a laugh - or a yawn.  Now that she thought 
about it, Grace realized she'd seen none of the natives here do either.  Perhaps 
they simply couldn't.
   Still, many of their actions seemed similar to the way humans behaved, and 
Grace found that she felt somewhat relieved.  These aliens had certainly, except 
for locking her up for a short time, treated her better than the Master had.  
They'd simply looked at her, and had even seemed impressed.  But then why 
had they done what the Master had told them to?
   "Oh, I wish you would talk to me, like you did before!" she exclaimed 
suddenly.  "I need to know why you're doing this!"
   The natives merely looked at her in seeming incomprehension.


Brian Dempster stood, watching an oscillating line on one of the TARDIS 
console monitors, his mind awhirl.  The Doctor had just finished the tale of 
his and Grace's misadventures of New Year's Eve, just a few weeks before.
   "She...'killed' you?" Brian muttered to himself.  "Whoa," he murmured, 
shaking his head slightly.  "Sure hope you guys don't have lawyers like we 
do here..."
   Despite Brian's soft tone, the Doctor, adjusting yet another dial on the console, 
heard him.  "Oh, no.  They're *much* worse where I come from."
   Brian looked up in surprise.  Half the time he couldn't tell if this guy was being 
serious or not.
   "But that's neither here nor there," the Doctor continued, looking at Brian 
frankly.  "I would have regenerated sooner or later, anyway.  In the end, I 
suppose no one is really to blame."  He looked back to his task.
   "And the change was overdue," Brian thought he heard his host say then, 
softly.
   "So this 'Master' fell into your 'Eye', but wasn't killed..."
   "Yes; I'm afraid he is the living embodiment of 'Go not gently into that good 
night'..."
   "And he's got Grace."  Brian considered that.  "If this guy is so bad...  Where 
you come from, don't you have some kind of police or something, to catch guys 
ike him?"  He brightened, inspired.  "Is that what you are?  Some kind of detective?"
   The Doctor smiled gingerly.  "Ah, no.  As for my people...they have what I 
guess you would call a 'non-interference' policy toward the outside world.  
Unless a threat hits close to home, they simply don't seem to care."  He shook 
his head ruefully.  "They've stood idly by before while the Master and others 
have threatened whole planets, systems, even the very fabric of the universe.  
Even if they knew of Grace's predicament, they'd not lift a hand to help 
her.  And anyway, this is between him and me.  As always."  He looked bitter.
   "So, what can we do?"
   The Doctor brightened somewhat and straightening up, raised a finger 
pedantically.  "That's a very good question.  I generally prefer to out-think, 
out-flank, and out-wit him."  He paused and shrugged.  "When that doesn't 
quite work, there's always luck."
   Brian stared at him.  "Luck?" he echoed incredulously.
   "Works for me."
   Brian closed his eyes momentarily.  "Oh, geez..."  He opened them again.  
"But you have a plan, right?"
   The Doctor considered the plaintive tone of the man standing across the console 
from him.  "Well, that will depend upon where the Master is headed," he told Brian.
   Brian looked perturbed.  "So, he's leading you on a wild goose chase - you 
don't even know where he's going, yet!"  Suddenly paying attention to the monitor 
he was supposed to be watching, he exclaimed, "Doctor!  That line changed - it's 
flat."
   "That means the TARDIS we've been following has dropped out of the Vortex.  
Let's see where they've ended up."  The Doctor stepped around to peer at one 
the monitors suspended overhead.
   Curious, Brian joined him, staring up at the screen.  It read:  Isconia.  Local 
Dateline 1125.46.
   "Hmmm..." the Doctor commented, looking concerned.
   "What?" Brian asked.
   Still staring at the monitor, the Doctor shook an index finger.  "Something 
about that place...What was it?"  He walked over to one section of the 
wooden console, moved several controls, and was rewarded with a sudden 
scrolling paper print-out.  Tearing it free, he let it unroll and quickly perused it.  
"Oh, dear..."
   "What?!" Brian demanded.
   "Eh?  Oh, it's just that the natives of this planet are, well... pre-contact, 
*blue*, hairless, and have only one gender.  We're not exactly going to be 
able to just stroll about unnoticed."
   Brian stared.  "Blue, huh?" he ventured, finally.
   "Blue-gray, actually," the Doctor replied absently, his mind already absorbed 
ith the ramifications of their destination.
   "So not everybody out here looks like you?"
   The Doctor, realizing he was still being addressed, looked up.  "What?  Oh, 
absolutely not.  Life comes in every form you can imagine -- and then some.  
Some of it you doubtlessly wouldn't even recognize as being alive.  Until it 
was too late."
   Brian looked momentarily unnerved, then tried to be nonchalant.  "Okay.  
so now what?"
   "Oh, we go in, anyway."
   "Well, shouldn't we wait?  If we don't show up, maybe he'll leave and go 
to a place where we can blend in more easily," Brian suggested, reasonably.
   "Perhaps," the Doctor replied, equally reasonably.  "And he may also just 
do away with Grace if he thinks his attempt to get me to follow failed."
   Brian glanced away, discomforted, then back at the Time Lord.  "But it's 
such an obvious trap!  What good does it do to just walk right in?"
   The Doctor's expression softened slightly.  "This is a dangerous situation, 
Brian, but it's not hopeless.  Knowledge of the place to which we are going 
will help us.  Also," and here he pointed at his guest, "*you* are our 
advantage - the Master does not know that you are helping me."
   Brian smiled gingerly.  "So...I'll be your 'ace up the sleeve', huh?"
   The Doctor gazed at him, but it was as if he was looking through him, 
Brian noted, looking at something very far away...  The Time Lord shook 
his head slightly, a shake not of negation but of distraction, a faint smile 
on his lips.  "I suppose you could put it that way.  But in the end, there's 
only one Ace," he concluded, cryptically.
   "Riiight," Brian said, cautiously.  "Well, what about this...'Isconia'?"
   The Doctor turned to the console and requested another print-out, which he 
handed to a bemused Brian.  "Come on," the Doctor said, heading for his 
favorite chair.  "Got to do our 'homework' before we land, and we haven't 
much time."


"Where are we going now?"
   The strange ritual in the square had now ended, and Grace's blue-gray native 
escort was once again leading her back along the main thoroughfare.
   The native glanced back at her as she spoke, but showed no comprehension.  
She was really starting to believe that they *didn't* understand what she was 
saying, which was doubly odd, given that they had spoken English to her earlier, 
when she'd first arrived with the Master.
   She shook her head a little.  Strange.  Perhaps she was talking too fast, or 
something.  She was about to try again, when she realized that they were heading 
back the way they'd come earlier.  Yes, there was the stone building, probably 
the local jail, that she'd been put in.  Several 'guards' were loitering about outside, 
and expectantly opened the door as they saw Grace and her escort approaching.
   Grace stopped.  Her guide turned to stare at her and tugged on her hand.
   She yanked her hand out of his grasp and backed up a step, her fear re-surfacing 
and transmuting into anger.  "No!" she exclaimed.  "I'm not going to just walk 
back in there!"  She cat-footed away several steps and glanced around at her 
surroundings, looking for an avenue of escape.
   Her 'guide' suddenly called out something in the strange, lilting tongue of the 
place, and Grace looked wildly around as a throng of interested villagers 
immediately streamed towards her.  She turned fearfully, trying to keep an 
eye on the encircling natives, expecting an attack from whatever direction she 
was not looking in.  They'd obeyed what her guide had shouted instantly, 
she noted, shaken.  He was someone of importance here.
   Her guide shouted something else, and they began to close in on her.





To be continued...








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