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The Doctor was standing in the centre of a fourteen-sided chamber. Thirteen of the walls were mirrored but all were cracked; the fourteenth housing an arch beyond which was darkness. Uncertain as to why he was there, the Doctor stepped forward to examine his reflection. Gone were the robes he had been given by the man at the shelter. Instead he was wearing the blue velvet coat and scarf he had left in the TARDIS. 'You are a broken man once more,' a voice said. The Doctor glanced over his shoulder, but there was no one else in the chamber. 'Nonsense.' The Time Lord clone said. 'Not showing yourself today, then?' he added gruffly. 'I do recognise your voice, you know.' He had last heard it on Voga and before many times during his enforced stay in the Galactic Federation. 'I cannot currently manifest.' The taint of embarrassment was plain in the voice of the Figure. 'I am sorry,' said the Doctor. 'Crash materialisations can't be good for the old manifestation trick.' He was quite pleased to be the one with the upper hand this time. 'Nor are they good for you at the moment,' the voice replied The Doctor frowned. 'I didn't think I'd be seeing you - well, hearing you at least - quite so soon.' 'No.' 'This is a dream, isn't it? Can't be mine, though. It lacks the finesse of true imagination.' 'Your arrogance will be your downfall, Doctor,' the Figure chided. 'Hmmm,' the Doctor adjusted his scarf and turned back to the room. 'So, what can I do for you?' 'It is more a question of what I can do for you.' 'Really? I don't recall being in any trouble you can help with,' the Doctor was amazed at how peeved the personification of his TARDIS could make him. 'You are suffering from memory degradation, so it is not surprising you cannot recall things,' the Figure replied, this time with a smug tone. 'Look, forgo the banter for a second,' the Doctor said. 'And tell me what it is you want.' 'To help,' said the Figure. 'Both of us. You need to re-activate the TARDIS. Our link is crucial to you. You cannot function properly without me at the moment.' 'Cannot function properly?' the Doctor bellowed. 'I've done very well without you in the past.' 'You know our link is important, Doctor. Do not fool yourself. Remember - if you can - your first regeneration, for example.' One of the walls shimmered and an image appeared of an old man with white hair cut in an almost pageboy style. He was lying on the floor of the original TARDIS console room, flanked by two young humans. Suddenly an intense light made the man hard to see. When it faded a new, impish face with black hair cut in a pudding bowl fashion had replaced the old. The Doctor considered this. 'Yes, well. I was getting on a bit.' His bluff was met by silence. The Doctor sighed. 'Yes,' he said grudgingly, 'of course our link is important, but you have never had to interpose quite so often.' 'Our relationship will return to its more usual status soon enough,' the Figure said, its voice teasing that - as ever - it knew more than it was letting on. 'Normal service will be resumed shortly, eh?' the Doctor said. 'I jolly well hope so.' 'Be careful what you wish for, Doctor,' the Figure said. 'You are still not complete. You have been augmented by the memories and identity of the real Doctor; re-engineered using Time Lord technology, but you still require the link.' The Doctor's words to Nick before the funeral came back to him. Physically I am as much a Time Lord as the Doctor was... I have all the memories of the Doctor in here… the TARDIS and I are working together to sort them out, but without the old girl I would have none at all.' 'Here in your dream, I can manage a telepathic communication from those parts of the TARDIS that are not completely shut down,' continued the Figure. 'Your DNA is not falling apart, but in the real world your memory is deteriorating rapidly - coming and going - due to my own forced recuperation. It has been since we arrived. You must reactivate me while you still remember who you are!' This time there was urgency in the voice. 'Of course.' The Doctor nodded. This was serious. 'I will implant a subconscious need to return to the TARDIS. Whenever your memory returns this will be your primary goal,' the Figure said. 'You have much to do on Yahanis, Doctor, and you will need to be whole for both this and the trials ahead.' 'Why are there always trials ahead?' asked the Doctor rhetorically, stroking his beard. 'You are caught up in more than just a search for your people, Doctor,' the Figure warned. 'Their very survival is at stake - as is your own. You will come to realise this.' 'I've already been dead once. I think you'll find I'm very difficult to kill,' the Doctor replied gravely. 'Nonetheless… all things come to an end.' 'Do stop trying to be enigmatic,' snapped the Doctor. 'Alf has told me of her meeting with what must have been a future incarnation of mine. If I was afraid to die, I would never set foot outside the TARDIS or even have left Gallifrey in the first place.' 'You would never have gone to CyberControl if you were afraid to die, Doctor. The point is not moot. I merely call your attention to the fact that you will need to be at your best to surmount the obstacles yet to be faced. And remember, not just your life is at stake.' The Doctor felt as if someone had stuck a pin in him. 'What do you mean by that?' 'As I have told you I see possible futures. Nothing in the future is immutable, merely potential.' 'This is pointless,' growled the Doctor. 'If you're not going to give me a straight answer to a straight question, I'm going to wake myself up.' 'We will speak again, Doctor,' said the Figure, its voice fading with the surrounding chamber. Nick was worried. Despite his renewed faith in the Doctor, the clone had not turned up. Nick had thought the Time Lord would breeze into the Tixliss camp, maybe share his adventures with Nick and Alf - who knows he may even have shared a pipe of those weird stinging nettles. But he hadn't, and to make matters worse Nick had woken to find Alf gone, a note stuck to one of the wooden supports of the tent. 'Morning!' it read. 'Gone to Buliseye HQ to see if I can find out anything about the where the Doctor might have got to. Back in about two hours. Love Alf.' Orsah had told him that Alf had left over three hours ago and that it shouldn't have taken her long to reach Buliseye HQ. However, she also said that getting the information might have taken some time, as the Buliseye seemed to operate a 'take a ticket and wait for your number to be called' system that sounded to Nick like the deli counter at a supermarket. Sitting in the empty Tixliss dining hall, Nick cursed his desire for new experiences. The combination of the weed and the alien painkiller had obviously not only gone to his head, but upon arrival had decided to close it to the public. As such he had massively overslept and missed breakfast. While he didn't feel quite as bad now as after his bender on Ossoban Soul Killers, it was not a million miles away. He didn't even have his diary with him to remonstrate with himself. All he had was an unnatural headache and two missing friends. Oh, and a missing swordstick, too. Nick asked Orsah if she had a walking stick he could borrow and she had furnished him with something that resembled more of a tent pole. Beggars and choosers, again, thought Nick. There was nothing for it but to go and look for Alf. So, with map in hand, he set off to retrace Alf's route. As he hobbled down the streets of Dar-Es-Buraq with his pole, he looked more like an undergraduate out punting than a man with a sprained ankle. On top of his slight embarrassment at this, he was definitely the wrong side of peckish. Even though it was now mid-morning, the alleys and canal paths were still relatively empty, although Nick could feel the buzz of the city building as it slowly came alive. Here and there Yahanan children were swimming in the canals and shop owners were starting to set out their wares. Already some beggars were loitering in doorways and vehicles were beginning to appear, delivering yet more goods or transporting workers. Despite his headache and the pain for his ankle, Nick was in awe of the place. Every detail fascinated him. It was the little differences between Yahanan civilisation and those of 20th century earth and the 26th century Federation that he found fascinating. In terms of face and body form, males and females were almost impossible for an outsider to tell apart, but Nick was beginning to see differences in their aspect. Males walked proudly in that slow lumbering way they had, while what he suspected were females shuffled in a strangely elegant manner. While he was considering these societal disparities, he saw something that made his heart miss a beat. Two children were busy trying to bash each other's heads in with sticks. One wielded a normal piece of wood, but it was the other child's weapon that held Nick's attention. It was the ebony sheath of the Doctor's swordstick. He had an urge to grab the urchin and demand where the sheath had been found, but he reined it in. He knew about children. Well, he'd been a bit of a natural with Falex when he was small. Nick approached the mini combatants and sat as near to them as he dared without scaring them away. Leaning forward on the pole, he watched them parry each other's blows for a while and then forced himself to laugh. This had the desired effect. Both children stopped mid-swing and turned to look at the stranger. 'You go like that and you'll be fine Buliseye for sure,' he said with his most winning smile. The children continued to stare at him, but they moved a little closer. 'And such fine weapons!' 'They're just sticks,' said the smaller of the two; the one holding the ebony sheath. 'Ahh, but in the right hands, sticks can be as good as a blaster. Not as clumsy or random.' The children drew still nearer. Nick hoped that it wasn't every day that a mysterious Cufic took an interest in their games. 'Yours for example,' Nick waved a hand at the smaller Yahanan. 'That's a very nice stick.' 'It's mine,' replied the child, giving away the fact that he must have found it. 'Of course it is!' exclaimed Nick. 'I myself would be proud to own such a stick. All I have is this staff.' He tapped the wooden pole and winked. 'Although it is much bigger than yours it is not as nice to look at, is it?' 'Don't talk to him, Rollis,' said the older child, eying Nick suspiciously. Nick grinned. There must have been no more than a year between them, but this one had already learnt some lessons the other had not. 'As you wish,' said Nick starting to get up. 'I'll swap you,' blurted out Rollis, obviously fearing his chance to trade was slipping away. Nick rose to his feet and regarded the little Yahanan. The one thing he knew about desert peoples was that they liked to haggle. If he went for the deal straight away the child would be even more wary. 'This staff has been in my family for generations,' Nick lied. 'I could not give it away as easily as that!' 'You're a… a Cufic,' the boy said, lowering his head as if the he shouldn't have really used the word. 'I am a vagrant, yes.' 'I've got a few dirham. You could buy food or…' the boy paused, looking Nick up and down. 'Or clothes.' 'As well as your stick?' asked Nick. 'I will give you the stick and ten dirham,' Rollis said. 'Rollis!' exclaimed the other boy. The amount was obviously too much. 'I'll tell you what I'll do,' said Nick bending down to the same level as the children. 'I will take your stick and five dirham. I have no wish to rob you of your money and this will be a valuable lesson to you.' Was it him, or was he beginning to sound like the Doctor? 'All right,' said Rollis, relieved at the better deal. Nick exchanged sticks, pocket the five small coins the boy gave him and waved as the two scamps dashed away, laughing and shouting. Then he examined the ebony sheath. It was unmarked and bore no clue as to Alf's fate. Nick cursed. Alf must have got into trouble, drawn the sword and… and what? Maybe she'd run off and dropped the sheath? Nick didn't like to think about the other alternatives. 'Bollocks to this,' he said, sounding more like his old self again. He had to find Alf, but now he needed help. And the only person on this planet who could help him was the Doctor.
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