Doctor Who_ Divided Loyalties Part 28

How rude of you to criticise us for it.'

Adric apologised. This is rather surreal,' he added after a moment.

Life's like that here,' said the cow, spitting a half-eaten jam doughnut on to the gra.s.s.

0i,' squeaked a daisy, using its petals to wipe spittle and sugar off itself.

Your psyche must be spectacularly fractured to create all this,' said the cow. I mean, most people that come through here just run away, screaming about going mad. The fact you've struck up a conversation with me suggests that not much surprises you.'

I suppose not.'

Well, that's not right, is it?' The cow wandered towards him.

I mean, if we all went around accepting any old tosh offered to us, where would it end? You must be particularly damaged.'

Oh, thanks. Actually we Alzarians heal quicker than most.

Which probably means you'll disappear as soon as my right mind rea.s.serts itself.'

Unless it's already too late,' squeaked the daisy. If the damage is deep, it'll be no good. You'll be talking to cows and daisies for ever.'

Adric shrugged. Surrealism works that way.'

Oh yes it does,' agreed the cow. But surrealism has a basis in interpretative art. Usually dreams. So, are you dreaming this, or are we created from your dreams... or is this real? Either you had too much cheese on your pizza last night or, as I said, you are damaged mentally.'

What's pizza?'

The cow and daisy laughed. Now we know he's mad,' and they turned away from him. The cow bent down, s.n.a.t.c.hed the talkative flower out of the ground and ate it.

I need to know what pizza is. You're talking about things I don't understand. Just like Tegan and Nyssa always... always do...'

The cow ignored him, so he started walking forward again.

Life's like a big picnic. In one corner is a small saltcellar, containing the action. Then there's a slightly larger b.u.t.ter dish - that's the characters you meet. The rest is a vast chintz tablecloth covered with dreams and hopes and imaginings, none of which are remotely real.'

Adric decided not to be surprised that the speaker was a tiny wooden string puppet hanging from the branch of a tree, its burgundy cloak flapping in the wind. Being surprised might start up another ridiculous conversation. Why are you running?' asked the puppet. I mean, neither Tegan nor Nyssa are here to persecute you. And the Doctor, well, he's abandoned you. You might as well settle down here and enjoy the unpredictability of it all. It is unpredictability you seek, isn't it, Adric?'

I don't really know,' Adric said. Oh why doesn't someone explain what's going on? Could you tell me, please?'

Tsk tsk tsk,' cautioned the puppet. You're whining again.

Grow out of it, Adric. Learn that it doesn't get you what you want and I guarantee the girls will look at you in a new light.

The longer you act like a ten-year-old, the less acceptance you'll receive.'

I don't want acceptance,' he shouted.

Nonsense, Adric. We all want acceptance. You want to be accepted by the others. The Doctor wants to be accepted by you. Tegan and Nyssa want to accept you. But it's your fault none of these things are happening. You want the old Doctor back, but he represents the old you. When you stowed away on the TARDIS you were childlike, emotionally stunted and easily led. You thought it was all an exciting adventure. But as the Doctor transformed, so did you. You took on the responsibility of saving the TARDIS, of helping Nyssa grieve over Traken's destruction. The only person who still thinks you are are the spoilt brat you once were is you. The moment you let yourself realise you've changed, the others will too. Your destiny lies out in the stars, Adric. One day, you're going to make a big impression somewhere, change the course of history or something. But until you do, bide your time and enjoy your friends rather than resisting them. Take them for what they are and they'll do the same to you.' the spoilt brat you once were is you. The moment you let yourself realise you've changed, the others will too. Your destiny lies out in the stars, Adric. One day, you're going to make a big impression somewhere, change the course of history or something. But until you do, bide your time and enjoy your friends rather than resisting them. Take them for what they are and they'll do the same to you.'

Adric thought about this, but when he prepared to reply to the puppet it was gone.

In its place, a man and a woman stood before him, holding out a pink slip of paper.

Your Majesty,' they said, albeit in less than reverential tones. Your invitation to join the tournament.'

Nyssa felt the warmth of the sun on her cheeks and rolled on to her back, distractedly waving her arm across her face. As if brus.h.i.+ng away cobwebs. Outside, the birds were singing and a slight and pleasant breeze washed over her, entering from the tiny window above the bed-head.

She opened her tired eyes, feeling the softness of the grey silk nightdress she wore. At the foot of the chintz bedspread sat a row of her stuffed toys, guarding her during the night, as always. She looked down at Big Bear, top guardian and leader of her pack.

Back to normal, I see,' she said. I suppose I should thank you for another safe night.' She stared up at the ceiling. I think I have got the idea of this, Toymaker. Can we try something new?'

Nyssa climbed out of her bed, went through the motions of was.h.i.+ng, dressing and adjusting her hair and then, with a final look at her toys, took a deep resigned breath and left her room.

Why haven't you come to find me!' haven't you come to find me!' screamed Tremas, pus.h.i.+ng her back into the room. She fell on to the bed and the toys scattered. screamed Tremas, pus.h.i.+ng her back into the room. She fell on to the bed and the toys scattered.

Tremas was on the floor, tears pouring down his face, screeching hysterically.

Why did you betray me, daughter? I thought you loved me!'

Nyssa stared at him. Father...?' she said eventually.

He looked up, his face red, shaking with pent-up fury and despair. brought you up to honour me, Nyssa. To honour Traken. Is this how you repay me? By abandoning me?

Abandoning me to him?'

The Master walked swiftly into the room and stood arms folded, head slightly to one side.

h.e.l.lo, Nyssa my dear.'

Go away,' she replied. Both of you. You are phantoms, created by the Toymaker to make me doubt myself. And the Doctor.' She breathed in deeply. But I deny this reality, Toymaker. I deny this dreamscape. And above all, I deny you!'

And once again, Nyssa was back in the Toymaker's realm.

The Toymaker stood in front of the TARDIS, the robot, Stefan and g.a.y.l.o.r.d LeFevre beside him.

Very good, Nyssa. Your loyalty to the man who has betrayed you is very commendable. However, it still won't give you the TARDIS back, nor will it save the Doctor. You have, however, earned enough points to move on to the next level of the game!'

And Nyssa was outside, in a field, breathing fresh air.

Letters spelling out the words good luck' hung in front of her on a series of banners that flapped in the breeze. Doctor?

Doctor, where are you?'

There was no reply, so she walked forward, under the banners and towards a stile in a hedgerow.

She clambered over the stile unhesitatingly - she was determined to go on. However twisted the Toymaker was, he worked on a bizarre level of logic. If she was here it was for a reason, however obscure. Therefore, to stay still was pointless. If he wanted her to go on to the next level of the game', she would.

If nothing else it might reunite her with the Doctor, who could answer some of her questions.

Exactly what the game was became blatantly clear. She had tried playing chess with both the Doctor and Adric more than once. She was hopeless at it and, in exasperation, Adric had tried to teach her something played on the same board - draughts. Even you might grasp that,' he had said in his usual brusque way. Nyssa hadn't. She simply wasn't a games-type person.

Good morning,' said a man behind her, in a voice which suggested it was anything but.

Nyssa whirled round to be greeted by two grey-suited figures, a man and a woman. Neither of them smiled.

The dour couple introduced themselves as George and Margaret, the judges for the great chess tournament, upon which the fate of thousands rests'.

Why is that?'

The woman frowned and dug a piece of paper out of her pocket. Because it says so. Here.'

She pa.s.sed Nyssa the pink slip - an invitation to the tournament. Nyssa scanned down it, noting that it did indeed proclaim that the fate of thousands rested upon its outcome.

Representing the Red Team are Sir Henry Rugglesthorpe And Family (And Friends). And Family (And Friends).

Whoever they were. Nyssa had a suspicion they weren't playing by choice. The White Team were: The Outer s.p.a.ce Rocket People Who Are Still Awaiting Their Queen. Queen.

Nyssa pa.s.sed the paper back to George and Margaret but they ignored it.

Keep it. It's your invitation.'

I don't want an invitation.'

Oh dear. What a shame. Never mind. It's still your invitation.'

Nyssa sighed at the couple's unreasonable att.i.tude. She looked at the invitation again, intending to see when the tournament would begin. It now read: When you're ready, 0 Queen of the White Team But I'm not the white queen,' Nyssa exclaimed.

George finally cracked a smile. You are now.'

And everything went mad.

5.

Very Close to Far Away

The Doctor stared at the jigsaw - it was almost impossible to do. The pieces were double-sided, so each was effectively two pieces which would go on different sides of the puzzle.

Oh, and there was one other thing the Toymaker had omitted to mention - every time the Doctor put a wrong piece in place, it fell out, bringing with it half a dozen more.

I wish you'd chosen something more appealing,' he moaned, hoping to bait the Toymaker into using up a bit more energy. Whatever was occurring between him and Rallon, the Toymaker's grip on reality - both inside and outside his mind - was lessening. The Doctor saw Stefan and LeFevre shoot the odd look in their master's direction, confirming that the Toymaker was occasionally lapsing into his internal struggle.

Excellent.

Oh, look at the memory mirror, Doctor.'

The Doctor turned as the Toymaker waved an ornate ring in front of the mirror. An aerial view of the chess board materialised. The viewpoint was rarely still, however, and the Doctor began to feel nauseous trying to stay focused. The Toymaker was shaking his head.'

I fear, dear g.a.y.l.o.r.d, that our pilot may not be all she was cracked up to be.'

I fear not, Lord,' LeFevre admitted.

Dreadful at cribbage, too, Doctor. Bit of a time-waster I feel. Ah well. Let's change the camera.'

The Doctor watched. The chess board could now be seen from the point of view of one of the players.

I'm using the red king's perspective, Doctor, as I wish you to see how your team, the white ones naturally, do.'

White representing the force for good. A guardian thing, I suppose.'

The Toymaker shrugged. That hadn't crossed my mind, old friend. No, I chose white because I thought of the little flag they wave on Earth to signal surrender.' He gazed back at the screen. Oh, this is very tedious, all very traditional.' He cleared his throat. Go to move queen's rook four.'

Suddenly the picture blurred. When it refocused, the pieces had moved, some quite significantly.