The Doctor spun round and crumpled to the ground.

Seconds later Forbes and his patrol reached the clearing.

“I had to shoot, Corp,” babbled the sentry. “He attacked me. Came straight at me!”

Forbes looked at the still figure of the Doctor. “Attacked you? An unarmed man, in a hospital nightshirt?”

“I challenged him, Corporal, honestly. He didn’t answer.”

Forbes turned the Doctor over. “He couldn’t answer. Somebody’s taped his mouth up.” He looked at the Doctor’s white face. A smear of blood was startlingly red on the forehead. Forbes felt for a pulse just as Captain Munro appeared in the clearing.

“What happened, Corporal? Is he dead?”

Before Forbes could respond another, deeper, voice spoke. “No. But he will be.”

The four soldiers turned around and Forbes rose to his feet. A man in elegant black clothes stepped out of the bushes and into the clearing. He smiled, bearing his sharp canines. “Thank you for delivering him to me so neatly.”

Munro and his troops tensed as the man pulled something out of his top. At first Munro thought it was a knife, but he noticed that it was a very big, and very sharp, tooth. The sentry raised his rifle and pointed it at the man.

“Now, put the weapon down,” Munro said as he took a slight step forward. The man crouched down, like an animal preparing for attack.

“Do you really think you can stop me now?” His cat eyes glowed momentarily. “I have hunted the Doctor all through time and space. I am the Master, and I will kill my prey.” He leapt into action and the sentry fired. The Master yelled out in pain, dropping the tooth. He raised his bloody hand and gave it a look of contempt. “Contaminated blood,” he snarled, and looked up at the sentry. “I should have killed you first.”

Before any of the UNIT troops could act, the Master was on the sentry. The snap of several bones, and the sentry was dead; his head in the Master’s bloodied hands. He glanced over at the UNIT men and smiled. “Now that was nice,” he purred, and licked the blood from the severed head. The UNIT soldiers could do nothing but watch in horrid fascination. A look of revulsion swept across the Master's face, but it was gone in seconds. He reached for the fallen rifle.

This brought a reaction out of Munro. “Stop him!” he yelled.

Forbes and his men advanced on the Master. One was clubbed down by the butt of the rifle. Forbes and the remaining soldier wrestled with the Master, but it was not enough to stop him. One clear shot was all he needed, and the rifle erupted. The bullet slammed its way through the Doctor’s chest and straight into his left heart.

Munro joined the struggle and together the three of them wrestled the rifle off the Master. Munro stepped back, the rifle in one hand, and aimed his revolver at the dark figure. “Stop.”

The Master stopped and glanced down at the mortally wounded Doctor. It was a good start. He looked up at Captain Munro and their eyes met. He opened his mouth to speak, but noticed movement behind Munro.

“No!” he yelled, more in frustration than anything else, at the two people emerging from the bushes behind Munro. “Not now!” Showing surprising strength, the Master flung Forbes and the other soldier to the ground, and looked around frantically. He let out a sigh of relief as a black cat entered the clearing. “Good timing, Shadow,” he told the cat.

They ran towards each other. The cat leapt into the Master’s arms. A loud mechanical bang and flash of light ripped the air apart, and they both vanished.

Munro blinked in surprise. This was not covered in training. He turned around and looked at the two people. The teenage girl flashed him a smile and walked over the spot where the Master had been. The short man watched her, his eyes full of dark shadows. The girl tensed and looked back at the short man.

Her eyes were yellow, cat-like.

“Where?” asked the man.

“Back to the TARDIS, Professor,” said the girl, and sprinted off the way they had come.

The short man noticed Munro for the first time, and raised his hat. “Ah, Captain Munro. Nice to see you again, but alas, I have no time to chat. Goodbye.” He dashed off after the girl.

Munro was about to call after them, but remembered the wounded Doctor. One thing at a time. He looked over at Forbes, who was helping the soldier off the grass. “Corporal, get to the jeep and radio in an ambulance. Quickly!”

Forbes saluted, and ran off to do as ordered.




He had felt like this before. Twice. Immense pain surging through the internal organs as his body attempted to heal the wound and reform itself. Soon that reforming would begin on the outside. His body would regenerate itself into a new one. He convulsed in pain again. The bones were expanding in places and constricting in others.

As had happened on both of the previous occasions his last life was passing through his mind’s eye. In this instance it did not last long. Such a short life. Images of him awakening in the TARDIS, stumbling out of the doors to land on the soft cushion of grass. Awaking again with Lethbridge-Stewart looking down at him. Being kidnapped by those strange men. Escaping in the wheelchair. Being shot by that soldier.

At the same time mental blocks were being released. Blocks that had been forced on his mind by the Time Lords. Time travel theory. Dematerialisation codes.

He opened his eyes for the final time in his third life.




Munro looked down at the Doctor. They were in the back of the ambulance, being rushed back to Ashbridge Cottage Hospital. The Brigadier and Doctor Henderson would be waiting for them. The Doctor’s eyes snapped open.

Munro attempted a smile. “Everything is going to be all right.”

“Yes... I know...” The Doctor closed his eyes. He suddenly yelled out in pain and then was quiet.

Munro watched him, his concern mounting. That concern turned into wide-eyed horror as the most amazing thing happened. The Doctor began to change. Not his clothes, but his entire body. It only took a minute, and then there was a new man in the Doctor’s place. He was shorter and bulkier. Where his hair had once been white, it was now brown. The face was the face of a much younger man, with a thick full brown beard. Munro peered at the man closely, unable to really believe what he had just seen happen. The man opened his eyes and winked at Munro.

“Told you, didn’t I?” The new Doctor yawned. “Well that was an experience. Goodnight,” he said and promptly fell asleep.




Sometime later the Doctor lay stiff and straight, eyes closed, in the hospital bed. He looked rather like the model of a crusader on an old tombstone. A rather stocky crusader.

Henderson looked down on him. “Well, he’s out of that deep coma. Seems to be sleeping normally now.”

The nurse said, “do you think he is well enough to be handed over to the UNIT people yet?” She spoke a little regretfully, as if she had grown rather attached to this unusual patient.

“Oh I think so,” said Doctor Henderson. “But Mr Beavis is coming down specially to examine him. Saw my report and insisted on having a look.”

“But Mr Beavis is a surgeon,” said the nurse, puzzled. “I don’t see...”

“Exactly. I gather he thinks this chap is some kind of interesting freak. Probably plans to open him up and sort his innards out for him.” The nurse shuddered, and Henderson grinned at her. “Come on, let’s leave the poor chap to rest while he can.”

Henderson and the nurse both left the room. As soon as the door had closed behind them the Doctor opened his eyes and sat bolt upright.

“An interesting freak? Me?” His voice was deep, but soft. “Nobody is going to sort my innards out. No, I don’t think so.” He swung his feet out of bed, stood and stretched. He looked down and patted his belly. “A nice full body, good. I think I should have a nice and grand appetite in this body. Now. Where would I put my clothes?” The Doctor looked around the room. His clothes were nowhere to be seen.

Cautiously he opened the door a crack, peered out, and then slipped into the empty corridor. First he would find himself some clothes. Then he would go and find the TARDIS.

The Doctor had some important things to do...




Was that really the Doctor? Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart wanted to know. Hell, he needed to know, dammit. What with these meteorites landing he had the distinct impression that UNIT were the last hope against something very big. And to have the Doctor’s help...

He needed to know.

He looked across his desk and his eyes rested on the key. Why oh why would the man in the hospital be holding onto a key so tightly? Lethbridge-Stewart had some ideas about that one. Just like he had some ideas about the man in the hospital.

The phone rang. He picked it up. “Lethbridge-Stewart.” He listened, then smiled. “Thank you, sergeant.” He put the phone down. It was time to show Miss Shaw the truth about the man in the hospital. His men had brought the police box to the laboratory.

He picked up the key and left his office.




The Doctor turned around and looked at his reflection. Not too great, but it would do until he found the TARDIS. He had found his clothes in a locker, but they had been way too small for him. Which was a pity, since they had a certain style about them that the Doctor found charming. His second incarnation was such an elegant dresser.

He was still dressed in his hospital gown, but he had found a great big brown coat to wear over the gown. It was quite warm, and fitted his wide girth well. Only he needed something with which to keep it closed. It would not do to wander around England looking for the TARDIS with the cold wind blowing against his Time Lord delicacies.

He looked around the room, and his eyes alighted on a piece of rope. The Doctor smiled, and stroked his beard. It felt quite a natural thing to do, beard stroking. He could barely imagine how he had survived without a beard for all those centuries past. Anyway...

The Doctor wrapped the rope around his waist, twice over, and tied it in a slipknot, then turned back to the mirror.

“Oh yes. Quite nice.” The Doctor bellowed a deep-throated laugh, and immediately clamped his hand over his mouth. Grief, that was terribly loud. No doubt such a vocal range would come in quite handy when trying to advise his companions, but it would not do to have the hospital staff finding him so soon.

Which reminded him.

The Doctor walked back over to the door, and opened it slightly. He glanced out, and quickly retracted his head, closing the door. Coming down the corridor was that Henderson and the butcher, Beavis. The Doctor was tempted to rush out there and... The Doctor chuckled to himself, not even caring to tone down the volume of his bellow.

He threw the door open and stepped out into the path of the two hospital doctors. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, loudly.

The two doctors stopped short, and looked at each other in surprise. “I beg your pardon?” asked Henderson.

The Doctor ignored him and looked at Beavis. “So, you are the butcher?”

“Butcher? I am a surgeon.”

The Doctor stepped forward and poked a finger at Beavis. “You, sir, are a butcher. You do not go around cutting people open to see how they work, just because they are different from you.”

A look of recognition came over Henderson. “It’s you.” He turned to Beavis. “This is the man we are missing.” He looked back at the Doctor. “What are you doing out of bed?”

“Quite well, thank you. But I really do not have time to stand around talking with the two of you.” The Doctor gave them a little wave. “Good day to you both.” He turned and walked away. He heard Henderson call after him, but chose to ignore it. It could not have been anything important. It never was with humans.




The Doctor reached the doors leading out of the hospital and noticed two uniformed officers. He pulled up short and considered the situation.

First off the badges on their sleeves told him they were UNIT. He remembered UNIT from his last encounter with the Cybermen.

He opened his eyes and saw a face looking down at him. There was no mistaking the features. “Lethbridge-Stewart?” he asked. The face looked puzzled, but the Doctor knew it was he. At least he would be safe now.

Yes, the Brigadier had left some of his men here to keep an eye on him. The Doctor nodded, that made sense. But would he have time to convince them to take him to the Brigadier? Probably not. He heard a commotion behind him and he looked back. Drat! They were all looking for him now. Humans, so persistent. He would have to risk it.

The Doctor stormed out of the doors and the two UNIT soldiers turned to face him. “The man you have been left to protect is loose inside. Doctor Henderson needs your help.” The two soldiers looked at each other, not too sure. Stupid military men, the Doctor thought. Only responded to one thing. “Get on with, then! The Brigadier wants him unharmed! Now jump to it!” the Doctor bellowed.

The two men snapped to attention and rushed into the hospital. The Doctor watched them go and smiled to himself. Very useful, this bellowing he had inherited since his regeneration. Very useful indeed.

Now all he had to do was find the TARDIS.

He had left it in the woods, that much he remembered for sure. Indeed, he had almost reached it last time. But it seemed likely that the Brigadier would have moved it by now. The Doctor delved into his coat pockets and pulled out what looked like a watch. In truth it was a homing device, tuned into the TARDIS’s artron energy signature.

He consulted the watch, and his thoughts were confirmed. The TARDIS had indeed been moved.




The Doctor strolled into the laboratory and up to the Brigadier and a woman with red hair. They exchanged a glance. The Doctor chose to ignore it and walked over to the TARDIS, which stood in the corner, waiting for him. The Doctor smiled.

“Don’t worry old girl, soon have you out of here.” He looked at the Brigadier. “Key, please.”

The Brigadier looked at the key in his hand, then up at the Doctor. “I don’t think so. Not until I know for sure you are who I think you are.”

“I really do not have time for this, Brigadier.”

The Brigadier placed his arms behind his back, looking grim. “Well, then you will have to make time. I assume you are supposed to be the Doctor. The appearance of the TARDIS, and the fact that Munro saw you change your appearance gives me reason to believe that you may indeed be the Doctor. But there are things I still need explaining.”

“Are there indeed?” The Doctor walked over to the woman and placed an arm around her shoulder. He ignored her tensing. “Young woman, could you tell him that I have no time for this? There are things I need to do, and I cannot stand here waiting for him.”

“Excuse me?” The woman moved herself from the Doctor. She glanced at the Brigadier.

The Brigadier noticed her look, and he cleared his throat. Need to regain control of this situation. “Doctor, if that is whom you are, who was the man that shot you?”

“Shot me?” The Doctor had an impression of an uniformed man pointing a gun. “I have no idea who he was. One of your men, I believe.”

“Not him. I am referring to the man who caused you to change your appearance.” The Brigadier raised an eyebrow. “According to Munro he had ‘cat-like teeth, eyes and agility’. Any idea who wants to kill you, and looks like that?”

The Doctor considered the information then shook his head. “Actually, no. Why, should I have any -” He staggered back, falling into the bench. The Brigadier was at his side in an instant, trying to support him.

“Doctor?”

The Doctor looked at the Brigadier, blinking. The face before him was blurring, changing. The short moustache became a beard, framing the mouth, the teeth became longer, the eyes yellow. The Doctor frowned and pushed the man away. “You,” he said, “I know you.”

The Brigadier fell to the floor, totally unexpecting that. The Doctor advanced on him. The woman stepped towards the Doctor, not exactly sure what she could do, if anything at all.

“Doctor,” she tried, “calm down.”

The Doctor looked at her, and all she could see was confusion in his eyes. He held his head, and walked backwards. “Who are you?” he mumbled, obviously directing the question at someone other than the Brigadier or the woman. By this time the Brigadier was back on his feet.

“Doctor. How can we help you?” The Brigadier was quite sure that this was beyond him. He had never dealt with anything like this before. A man who could change his appearance after being shot in the heart. Surely that would result in some kind of trauma?

The Doctor backed against the TARDIS, and spun around. “Let me in!” he bellowed, and slammed a fist against the door. “This is not right!” Seemingly in answer to his plea, the TARDIS door opened and the Doctor stumbled in. The door closed behind him.

The Brigadier shook his head. “Well, that’s it. We’ll never see him again.”

“What do you mean?” the woman asked.

“You’ll see, Miss Shaw,” he stated, as a strange wheezing and groaning sound filled the air. The light on top of the police box flashed and the TARDIS faded away into nothingness.

The Brigadier and Liz stood there in silence. Liz in amazement. The Brigadier could not but help a sense of profound loss. He glanced down at the key in his hand...




The Doctor stood in the console room, watching the time rotor rise and fall steadily. “Thank you,” he said, and patted the console.

He remained there for a long while, just starring ahead, his hands resting on the console. Thoughts were running through his mind. The face of the bearded man, the teeth and the eyes. He had seen them somewhere before. And he could not escape the feeling that something was very wrong. Very, very wrong in fact.

The Doctor began to set the co-ordinates. He had to find out what was wrong, why he felt so... odd.


Original Online Publishing: 29th March & 5th April 2001