Valtez quickly did as he was instructed.

 "Sensors can't find her."

 "What? There's got to be a malfunction..."

 Suddenly the right bulkhead exploded. Bromley winced as the smoke got at her eyes while she watched debris fly into equipment ... and people. She saw fires breaking out on the consoles nearest the bulkhead, saw the bodies slumped over them as the fire continued and then she saw something else. Something that wasn't supposed to be here.

 It was Professor Rubenstein and an armoured attack squadron preparing to open fire.

 Chapter 8
by Jon Hunt (Rayisg@aol.com)

 "Careful you fools!" screamed Rubenstein, "You'll damage the equipment!"

 The attacking force moved forward with practiced precision, trained in battle, not for science like the defenders. Rubenstein rushed over to a monitor station, her wings quivering slightly with anticipation. Her long fingers flew over the console, her eyes flashing to and fro, watching status reports flash across the screens.

 "Fall back!" shouted Major Bromley to her out classed command. Only a few were left standing to hear her call. She fired wildly at the advancing men, heedless of her own safety, covering the retreat of a pair of technicians pinned down behind a rack of equipment. She hoped fervently that their attackers' weapons were set to stun, as another scientist was cut down.

 "Get out!" she screamed, half pushing a wounded girl out the door. "Seal off this section!"

 "But commander..."

 "Seal off this section and regroup in section B-12," she shouted grimly, setting her small pistol to it's highest setting. Only enough energy left for three shots, and there were a full dozen men advancing on her. But there were things other than men to shoot at ... "Seal it NOW!"

 Heavy steel and titanium plates started to slowly slide together, closing off the hatchway and the only escape. Major Bromley smiled thinly. "You'll never get away with this!" she shouted.

 Rubenstein laughed, a metallic tittering sound, mixed with the aroma of cloves and cherries. "Oh but I will Major, I have everything I need right here!"

 "Everything but a zeda-wave isolator, a crystonite flux converter and a primary computer core!" the major shouted, dodging from behind a rack of fiber coils. Tight beams of angry red energy struck out with the skill of a marksman, targeted by a master technician. Explosions, smoke and the smell of molten plastics told of the damage done to the delicate instruments.

 Rubenstein shouted something in a chittering voice. Major Bromley didn't bother to wait for the interpreter to catch up, figuring it was a foul as the stench of brimstone her adversary was spewing. Without a further word she dove through the closing gap of the doorway, pulled from the other side by her men as the plates crashed slowly home.

 "They have the captives," bellowed Demck, "How can it bloody well get worse than that? We have to contact the boss."

 "Inform you that the comm-unit is destroyed."

 Demck glared, his tusks grinding against his lower teeth in frustration. "Fix the scanner. Now."

 "Comply with haste." A dozen appendages scrambled to make sense of the tangled optic fibers and wire. He paused only long enough to get the spare parts needed to fix the damaged scanner."

 "Scan now. Perceive auditory non-functional, and visual impaired but functional at a limited range. Expect repair of auditory within five minutes."

 "Do it. How limited is the visual range?"

 "Estimate 50 meters."

 Demck swore softly, starting to regret ever meeting Olec. "There is a wreck to be salvaged," she had said. "People I work for need some of the components inside." He had asked her where her employers were. She had told him it was not a matter of "where," but a matter of "when." His father had told him never to trust time travelers. He'd pass that on to his son with the added advice of "Never trust a women with snakes as body parts."

 "Recommend we send reconnoiter drones to the Oracle site, the wreckage, and in a guard pattern about this location," tittered 462ahw.

 "Do it," growled Demck.

 "Where to?" asked Turlough.

 "Back to my TARDIS."

 Turlough nodded and placed a supporting arm about Zoe. Zoe looked at him strangely, reaching out and tracing the lines of his face as if trying to recall a memory. "She's getting worse quicker! How fast does memory loss occur in humans?" he said. Romana looked into the young girls eyes and could swear she could see the intelligence slip away as she watched.

 "It happens slowly at first, the virus 'learning' the mind's patterns. Once it sets a replication pattern, it can kill within an hour. We need to get her to the TARDIS before she forgets how to breathe!" she replied, leading the way through the brush.

 "What about you?" he asked.

 She smiled, "With a mind with patterns as random as mine, you'll make General before I forget your name." The smile ceased to exist. A frown took its place. "Tell me you don't hear a Trion fighter headed our way."

 Turlough cocked his head to the side, listening. With a grimace he scooped Zoe up in his arms and broke for the trees. Romana raced along side him wishing she had brought an attack squadron or two instead of Dolon. "I don't... hear... a Trion... fighter... headed...out... way." Turlough gasped as they ran. Romana glared at him.

 They had almost reached cover when the fighter came screeching overhead. Engines whined as it turned around and headed back toward them, sonic weaponry screeching like an irate banshee. Romana collapsed and tumbled into the brush. Turlough made it another half dozen steps before he too fell, landing heavily on Zoe.

 The small craft circled overhead twice before landing in a billow of dust and heat. Two men trotted out of the craft, weapons ready. They laced their way through the brush toward the unconscious trio.

 "They alive?" the taller one asked his companion.

 The man laughed, "They'll wish they had died when the wake up. I HATE sonics." He pulled out a small scanner and passed it over Romana. "The Time Lord's fine." He walked over to Turlough and Zoe, kicking Turlough roughly off the girl. The man frowned. "The girl's got massive brain damage."

 "Leave her then."

 The man thought that was a bit harsh but didn't reckon she'd last the night anyway. With a shrug he started to drag Turlough back toward the ship. His companion loaded Romana into the ship and together they stuffed the young Trion into a ship made by his ancestors. The ship took off again, it's departure noticed only by a squirrel, a pair of doves, and a troubled priest of Apollo.

 "Know we've been had," agreed Demck, dropping into the dialect of his cohort. The pair stood side by side by the only working monitor, watching the Trion ship hover over the site of wreck they had been salvaging. A long cable dropped from the ship into the blue water. Before long a heavy metal cylinder - twice the size of a man - erupted from the water and was pulled slowly into the ship.

 "Wonder why they want the power core."

 "For the same reason we wanted it. To give to Rubenstein."

 "Wonder why we were attacked, then left behind, if we both work for Rubenstein."

 Demck sighed at his sometimes naive companion. "We are no longer needed. It seems Rubenstein decided the Trions are more trustworthy than us! I suppose THEY will send the powercore forward through the corridor, then leave us stranded!"

 "Ask if we can't use the corridor to go forward in time."

 "And end up looking like a Morgovian Pizza like Shlack did? No thank you. This was a one way trip until we opened the corridor both ways!"

 462ahw moved a couple of arms across the control panel, changing the picture. They watched as Zoe lay still in the brush. "Inquire if we should aid her."

 "You heard the soldier, she's as good as dead."

 "Would not like to die alone in the dirt. Suggest extending same courtesy to girl."

 Demck scowled. "Maybe the primitive will help her. He's been watching for close to an hour."

 He walked forward cautiously, watching the skyline for the return of the sky demon. He approached the girl and knelt by her side. Aside from a few scratches and cuts, she appeared in good health, though her breathing was erratic. He ran his finger gently down her cheek, cooing softly like to a baby. Her eyes fluttered open, though they were vacant and devoid of recognition.

 The girl offered no resistance and little help to the man as he raised her up and half led, half carried her back down the path. "Do not fear, my child." He said gently, laboring under her weight. "I can not help you, but I know who can. I'll take you to the Oracle."

 The destruction of the Mission Control computer core made it all impossible to implement.

 She forced herself to relax, breathing deeply, her thorax expanding and contracting in a steady rhythm. She sought the voice that lived inside her. The voice that had comforted and guided her over the years. The power within her she had received while on the dig in Greece.

 'Do not fret my child.' It crooned. 'There is yet another way.' The voice came as it always did, deep within her mind, unnoticed by anyone else.

 'How?' she wondered silently.

 'The power core here can be detonated at this nexus. Another explosion at your nexus, at the same time will cause the corridor to collapse. With the zeda particles from the probe still within the corridor, there will be a temporal explosion such as the universe has never seen!"

 "But, all will be destroyed! Including you and I!"

 "I exist outside of time my child. How can I be destroyed by a temporal explosion in the vicinity of only a few eons?"

 "But I will be..."

 "...plucked from the timestream by me, before the explosion ever takes place." The voice finished.

 "But an explosion of that force, taking place at every instant in time for thousands of years, it will be..."

 "... the force of a million suns, scattered across the cosmos!" the voice concluded.

 "But the lives lost?"

 "I shall live, as shall you and your people. Are not the rest inconsequential?"

 Rubenstein nodded slowly, her eyes shimmering with thought. She rose slowly, surveying the destruction around her. The probe had entered the corridor, scattering it's emissions of zeda particles in the time stream. She had programmed the probe to explode on contact with the far end, but with the damaged equipment, that explosion would not be possible. 37 seconds left until it reached the far side. Her fingers flew over one of the undamaged consoles, altering the probes navigational circuits. The instructions would reach in time. The probe would veer out of the corridor before it exited the far nexus. But there was still much to do.

 "Bring me an explosive device of the 14th magnitude." She demanded to a soldier standing by.

 "But mistress, explosions of that magnitude can only be..."

 "Bring it to me!" she repeated, wings fluttering in rage.

 "As my mistress wishes." Replied the soldier, hurrying off to report this near impossible quest to a superior.

 "Soon." Rubenstein said. "Very soon. Then all shall be set right."

 The huge guard walked over and knelt beside the smaller man. "She's going to be all right, my friend," he said gently.

 "Is she?" he answered skeptically. "And if she is, what will happen to us? What are we to do?"

 "We are soldiers, you and I. You know what we have to do."

 Trolius looked up slowly, a fire growing in his eyes. He nodded. "We fight."

 "Great Apollo!" he cried, "I, Antonus, thy servant, beseech thee for help!"

 At first there was nothing, and then, there was something. It was undefinable, invisible and undetectable, but it was something. A voice rumbled "What is it you seek."

 "Mighty Apollo, I have here a stranger, little more than a girl. Her mind is broken and she is soon to cross the great river Styx. Wondrous Apollo, thy Oracle could save her if ye so chose!"

 The voice rumbled into laughter. "Soon this whole world shall need saving, but I shall do as you ask. She shall die understanding the reasons behind her death. She alone perhaps on this primitive world will understand."

 The nothingness that filled the air with naught but a voice seemed to throb with power. Warmth washed out over the temple in invisible waves. Zoe's eyes popped open in terror as she felt her mind probed. Her memories were scanned and sorted, the invading virus sorted out and destroyed by a mental power unimaginable. The priest of Apollo fled the temple of his god as the young girl screamed in agony...

 Demck stared at the monitor displaying the picture coming from the Oracle site drone. The girl had stopped screaming now, but was rocking back and forth, her head held in-between her hands. "Was the escape ship damaged in the attack?" he asked tersely.

 "Ascertained that the navigational computer, scanners and secondary life support unit have all been destroyed."

 "Yeah, but can it fly?"

 "Affirm with apprehension."

 "We're getting out of here."

 The millipedal creature quivered up to the monitor, watching the girl displayed sob in pain. "Want to take the girl with us."

 "Are you crazy? We can't help her!"

 "Think that perhaps she could help us."

 Demck glared first at the monitor, then at his small companion. "Prep the ship for take-off."

 "Inquire what you will do while I ready the ship."

 "Shut up," growled Demck, as he grabbed his weapons and headed out into the darkening evening.

 "Thinking silently that you are getting soft," tittered 462ahw softly, heading toward the escape craft.

 "In ya go Princess," the man said, pointing toward the cell door. He covered the door with a short rifle as another man prepared to open the door.

 "I'm not a Princess. I'm a President!" Romana bristled.

 "Princess, President, Prisoner. Whatever. Get in there." He laughed.

 The door opened and Romana was pushed inside to be caught be Dolon. Trolius stood hastily, but seeing one of the demon weapons pointed at him, only moved forward enough to help Turlough stu 'Do in the small cell. The door slammed shut with finality.

 "Lady President, are you all right?" asked Dolan with concern.

 "I'm fine. Help Turlough, I think he has a concussion."

 "As possibly does she." He answered, pointing to Vicki. The Time Lord knelt beside the girl, offering what comfort she could to her worried husband. "I suppose My Lady has a plan to get us out of here?"

 Romana turned toward him a shrugged. "The sonic screwdriver is gone. Gallifrey won't come looking for at least a week." Her face fell, "I don't know what happened to Zoe."

 "Then we are indeed trapped?"

 "For now. I don't think there is anyone who can help us. We just have to wait."

 "I HATE waiting," complained Dolon.

 Everyone in the room who was able nodded in agreement.

 "Do you hear me creature of Earth?" boomed the Oracle.

 Zoe nodded weakly.

 "I'd have you know my plans, though soon no one will exist to remember them."

 "Who are you?" she whispered.

 "I am Tempos! Trapped here for countless eons by my brethren. For years untold I have been trapped within the core of this planet, able to sense, able to know, but unable to act!"

 "How can you be trapped within the core of the planet? What planet is this?"

 "Your memory will return to you in full soon. It was all but destroyed. I've rebuilt it from the most rudiment of scraps, such is my power!. I am the last of an ancient race. Beings outside of time, outside of space. Beings of pure power!"

 "But you are trapped?" she asked, too confused to be afraid.

 "Trapped within the electrical confines of this accursed planet!"

 "Earth! This is earth, in the time of the ancient Greeks!" Zoe exclaimed, remembering. "There are no electrical devices at this period on earth!" "The very veins of ore within this planet make up the circuits child. The power comes from the electromagnetic field of the planet itself! I'm trapped within the core, placed there by my brethren in the time before they became barbaric and destroyed themselves with war!"

 "If you are trapped, how can you speak here?"

 "This is a volcanic planet. Years ago an eruption forced a vein of pure gold to surface beneath this very temple. I was able to force a part of my being to the surface, where I have made contact with these primitive beings. Luck smiled on me, and in the far future, I meet a being of intelligence. A being that now carries a small part of my essence."

 "Rubenstein?" she said, jumping to the conclusion.

 "The very same. She is my puppet and shall win me my release from this prison!"

 "Destroying a planet seems a bit out of her league," replied Zoe skeptically.

 "The very temporal rift your people explore shall be imploded, causing a temporal explosion that will destroy not only 'this' earth, but 'every' earth that has ever existed throughout time! I shall be free!"

 Zoe stood unsteadily, leaning against the pillar for support. "Why tell me all of this?"

 The voice of Tempos rumbled with laughter. "What use is a great escape, if there are none to witness it! Tremble in the knowledge of your imminent death, and I shall take pleasure in it!"

 "Just what the cosmos needs," muttered Zoe, "A jerk that stretches throughout all time." She hobbled uncertainly down the steps of the temple.

 "Try to escape child! Warn the others! Warn them that Tempos is soon to be free! The last of the Chronosaurs shall be free!" he thundered.

 Demck had heard enough. He broke cover and raced across the open space toward the stumbling girl. Not breaking stride, he scooped her up and turned back toward the ship, running into the darkness with the thundering sounds of laughter at his back.

 "Who are you!" Zoe demanded, not bothering to be shocked at this turn of events, or to struggle.

 "I'm your knight in shining armor." Growled Demck breaking through the trees, covering distance quickly with his long stride.

 "You look more like Chumley the Walrus," complained Zoe, wishing he didn't smell quite so bad.

 "Who is this Chumley?"

 "Ancient earth animation. Never mind. Where are we going, and what are we going to do?"

 "I don't know." He answered tersely, starting to loose his breath. The ship was not far away now.

 She watched as a pair of soldiers carted the Protean away. So much knowledge stored within that creature! All gone. All wasted. The memory of Zoe was lost to her. The memory of the Time Lord, gone.

 No matter. She had the answer now. And she had the voice. She could always trust the voice. It had told her to blow up the station and all those inside. It would save her though. She could always trust the voice.

 She watched now as the soldiers returned, this time with the antimatter core that supplied the main power of the station. So small. So powerful. This explosion, added with the explosion at the far end of the corridor, would free the voice. And in turn, the voice would restore her people. It had promised.

 "Place the core in the nexus." She directed. "Set the detonator for 2 hours. Then leave this place."

 "The scientists are still blocked off in section B-12. What of them?"

 "Leave them where they are." She said coldly.

 "And you?"

 "Leave me as well. I have an escape pod if necessary."

 "As my Mistress wishes," said the soldier, silently thinking she had lost her mind.

 "Hello. My memory is still joggled. You are a friend, right?" said Zoe quietly, following Demck into the room.

 "Express further happiness for your health. Concerned about you earlier."

 "Shut up." Demck said. "You heard what that thing said?"

 "Confirm reception of probe information. Think we are in grave danger."

 "Is that ship ready for take off?" he asked.

 "Affirm. Inform you of possession of manual navigation only. Recommend short flight only. Question where we are to go."

 "The Trions destroyed our ship, right?"

 "Express agreement."

 "Then they owe us their ship. Right?" he said slyly.

 "Quiver with anticipation of hearing your plan!" said 462ahw happily.

 "I'd like to hear that plan too!" said Zoe skeptically.

 "You'll both hear it as soon as I come up with it. Now shut up and leave me alone!" he said, stalking from the room. 462ahw and Zoe looked at each other with as much amusement as they could feel, considering the circumstances.

 "We've got to get a message to Turlough." Zoe said simply.

 "Report that lifeform Turlough is trapped in orbiting ship."

 "Not 'that' Turlough. Turlough before he came here to find us!"

 "Express amusement at your idea. Suggest that your memory is still dysfunctional."

 "Shut up," said Zoe, mimicking Demck as well as she could, being as her voice was three octaves higher. 462ahw clicked with amusement. "I can remember some of Romana's memories, and if they're accurate, at some point I've got to warn Turlough. I don't remember exactly what they know, or how, but he came here to find us. I must have got a message to him. What kind of communications is on this ship?"

 "Inform you that simple nanoburst communications are most logical for transmission you suggest. But the far end of the corridor is controlled by Rubenstein. Suggest that he will never receive message."

 "What if we broadcast locally, from the surface?"

 "Wonder how you intend to transmit message almost 7,000 years in the future."

 "Oh, I don't know, how long does this Trion technology last?"

 462ahw doubled over with what passed on his planet as laughter. "Express extreme amusement at your plan. Doubt it will work."

 "Well, it DID work. He's here - er, now - isn't he?"

 462ahw scrambled about the room, searching for a distress beacon that Demck had salvaged days earlier. He found it quickly, and modified it to record.

 "Advise you to keep message short. Further advise that communicator is set to activate some 7122 years, 226 days and 5 hours from this point."

 Zoe held the communicator in front of her. "This message is for Vislor Turlough, repeat Vislor Turlough. You have been tricked! I was sent to the past, and I was replaced! They have sent people back as part of their plan to gain time travel. I am located in ancient Greece at the far focus of the time corridor. They have altered Space Probe Seven: they've turned it into a fusion bomb. They plan to send it back and destroy this end of the corridor. If they activate a bomb at the opposite end, the corridor will collapse, creating a temporal explosion! They are trying to free a Chronosaur! You have to stop at least one of the explosions!"

 "Inform you that message may be to long."

 "I'm not sure I got it all right anyway. Maybe it will tell them 'something' at least."

 "Let's go," bellowed Demck from the hall leading to the escape craft.

 "Anxious to hear your plan!" said 462ahw.

 "I'll tell you on the way," growled Demck.

 To Be Continued