She understood suddenly how the outside lock had been breached. It would be virtually impossible for a human to crack, but for one of her own people… But surely, even the Time Lords knew better than to tamper with the Daleks. With their policy of non‐intervention, how could they possibly justify…

She crept forward to listen at the doorway as the man approached the technicians.

‘Lockwood,’ he purred, in a controlled voice, ‘how goes progress?’

‘Extremely well, Estro,’ the man answered, gesturing towards one of his panels. ‘The power levels have remained stable for several hours, and the computer beyond the door is now almost up to being opened.’

‘Excellent.’ Estro nodded. ‘Prognosis?’

Lockwood considered the equipment. ‘Another thirty minutes, and we should be able to begin sequencing the coding. I estimate another hour before the doors can be accessed. It will take that long to establish the correct codes.’

‘Acceptable,’ Estro agreed. ‘Well, I’ve a war to conduct, so I’ll leave you to it. You’re doing very well, Lockwood, and I’m most pleased with your efforts.’

‘Thank you, Estro.’

Susan moved back, so she wouldn’t be seen as the renegade returned to his TARDIS. This Estro was planning on broaching the Dalek installation for whatever insane reasons of his own. It would have been bad enough had it simply been humans acting so foolishly, because there would have been little enough chance of their succeeding. But one of her own… That was an entirely different matter. She had no doubt that he’d be able to do precisely what he intended, using these obviously mind‐controlled human slaves.

With a whisper, the computer console vanished again.

She had to stop whatever was going on here, before the maniac returned. And, oddly enough, Estro himself had given her just the tool she might be able to use to defeat his plans… All it would take was conviction and a great deal of courage. She took a deep breath, composed her face and her thoughts, and stepped out into the vestibule.

The rain seemed to be letting up slightly, which made Donna feel a little better. She was still soggy from their examination of the wrecked runabout. David looked as soaked as she did. The Doctor, curiously enough, looked slightly rumpled, but almost dry. Maybe he had specially treated clothes, or maybe it was another of his alien gifts.

‘How are things between you and Susan?’ he suddenly asked David, after a period of silence.

Wincing, David shot him a quick glance. It didn’t take a genius to realise that the Doctor had hit a nerve. ‘They’ve been better,’ the older man admitted.

‘I thought so,’ the Doctor muttered. ‘She had such a feeling of great loss… Is it the ageing problem?’

‘It’s her problem, not mine,’ David said, almost angrily. ‘I can deal with it, but she can’t.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Donna asked him, confused. ‘I’ve only met your wife once, but you look about the same age.’

‘Look, yes,’ David replied grimly ‘She uses make‐up to age her appearance. Without it, she looks even younger than you.’

This wasn’t making any sense to Donna. ‘But why make yourself look older?’ she asked. ‘I mean, what’s wrong with a younger girl married to an older man?’

‘Like I said, it’s not my problem,’ David answered gruffly. ‘But she only looks young.’

‘To you she’s an alien, remember,’ the Doctor pointed out. ‘We age at a vastly slower rate than humans. She’ll look about eighteen now, even though she’s so much older.’

‘Oh.’ Donna understood the problem. ‘She’s not going to get wrinkly and grey – and David is.’

David glared at her, then turned to the Doctor. ‘It’s as if she’s looking at me and seeing me decay and crumble in front of her eyes. I know it can’t be easy on her, but I don’t know what to do about it.’

‘It’s an unpleasant problem,’ the Doctor said sadly. ‘But it’s one that my family seems prone to.’

‘Got a genetic weakness for humans?’ Donna asked lightly.

He managed a charming grin. ‘You’re so full of life,’ he replied, and Donna could find no trace of condescension in his voice. ‘Unlike my people. We live so long that everything takes longer with us.’ He smiled. ‘Getting a waiter’s attention in a restaurant can take about a week. But you humans live so intensely. You’ve no idea how appealing that is to us. You burn so brightly in our eyes.’

‘But briefly,’ David put in bitterly ‘Susan’s scared of watching me grow old and die. I can tell. If I could, I’d just leave her. Walk away and let her get on with her life. But that wouldn’t help, would it?’

‘No,’ the Doctor agreed sadly. ‘Because she’d only look for you. She has to face it,’ He sighed. ‘It’s my fault for leaving her here. She should never have married you.’

‘Yes she should!’ David said ferociously.’ We’ve had a long and happy marriage, Doctor – until now. I just wish that there was some way I could help her through this.’

David pulled the runabout over, and they climbed out into the slowing rain. Night had fallen completely, but the Doctor vetoed the idea of carrying torches. ‘I have excellent night vision,’ he murmured. ‘And Susan’s misadventure suggests that there will be guards about. Let’s go. Stay together and be as silent as possible.’ He drifted into the darkness.

This was almost second nature to Donna, and she had no problem in trailing him quietly. David, bringing up the rear, tried his best, but he wasn’t as skilled a field worker as she. The occasional crack of a twig or clump as he hit an overhanging branch testified to that. But he was game, and pressed on. She found herself liking the Peace Officer. He seemed like a very decent, loving man, caught out of his depth in what was, after all, an unusual situation.

The Doctor led the way through the trees, approaching the cutting where DA‐17 was situated. Donna was scanning the darkness as well as she could, and neither saw nor heard anything out of the ordinary. An owl hooting; mice in the undergrowth; a small predator that she couldn’t identify, but probably a Dalek rat That she could hear such activities showed that the three of them weren’t making as much noise as she had feared. If the wildlife wasn’t scared off, they could hardly be alerting the humans.

Finally, the trees thinned, and they were standing on the top of a small cliff, where mining had sheered away the rock. Below them, illuminated by arc lights, was the entrance to DA‐17. Donna stared down at it, angry and confused. There were workers down there, and two large cables snaking across the ground and into the pit.

‘Crazy,’ she murmured. ‘Who d be mad enough to do this?’

‘I don’t know,’ the Doctor whispered back. ‘But if we put our hands up nicely, maybe the guards behind us will tell us instead of shooting us.’

Donna was taken by surprise at his announcement, and turned. She saw nothing at first, as the Doctor raised his own arms, but she heard the sound of rifles being readied and then raised her own hands.

‘Smart move,’ said a voice from the darkness. ‘Stand perfectly still while my men search you for weapons.’

Donna felt ashamed of herself. ‘I didn’t hear a thing,’ she said bitterly.

‘Don’t feel so bad,’ the Doctor commiserated, peering at their captors’ equipment. ‘They’re using infrared detectors.’

That puzzled her. ‘I didn’t know Haldoran had access to that level of technology,’ she said, surprised. ‘Or that he’d bother using it out here, instead of for his war effort.’

‘It’s Draconian technology,’ the Doctor said darkly.

‘What’s Draconian?’ she asked, wondering how he could be so certain.

‘Exactly,’ he answered. ‘The Draconians haven’t visited Earth yet. So where did it come from?’

One of the guards patted Donna down, none too gently, and with obvious enjoyment. She felt like punching him, but knew this wasn’t the time to complain about chauvinism. Her pistol and her knife were both taken. Two other men checked David and the Doctor. It took the one looking over the Doctor quite some time to empty all of his copious pockets.