"...and by the time we got down there, the Prophet had disappeared. The Scourge was in a state of complete confusion. It was just a matter of moving in and taking over - so to speak. Piece o'cake. Hardly worth getting the Samurai out."
The Doctor grinned across the console at Alan Masterson. The Professor was seated comfortably on the edge of the board, quite at home. Familiar voices drifted through the door to the infirmary; the others were coming back.
"I think there was some kind of formal surrender," he went on, eyeing the controls with an interest that made the Doctor nervous, "but I didn't stick around. Had to get back to Igan and settle the mess that Sheridan made."
"Have you decided if you're going to take the cure?"
Masterson became suddenly and uncharacteristically solemn. His eyes strayed to the spot on the Doctor's forehead where his biocrystal had been. Before the Professor could answer, however, Danner and Anna came in, followed by Palas and Miles Nelson. The lieutenant gave the Doctor a brooding look.
"Actually, we've decided not to." Alan replied.
"Not to what?" Anna asked.
"Get cured."
"Why?" The Doctor looked from one to the other.
Everyone turned to Palas, who shrugged. "The Dev are coming, Doctor. It may take millennia - or they may get lucky, breed a Prime and get here tomorrow. We have to be ready to be able to meet them on something approaching equal footing."
"And when relapse strikes?"
"Did you read those files you sent us?" Masterson asked him.
"A few. The Dev had a long time to accumulate data . . ."
"A big section covered the bonding of Feeders to danae -- and how to make the energy transfer not only bearable, but enjoyable. According to the records, this bonding was a sacred event in Devian society." He leered openly at Anna. "I'm anxious to put their instructions to the test."
Anna rolled her eyes and set a black metal box on the console. It contained the plague antidote -- enough for hundred thousand doses, and the formula to make more - courtesy of the TARDIS.
"Doctor, have you heard whether all the humans are off the danship?"
"The last group was transported twenty minutes ago. You're going to start distributing the antidote?"
She nodded. "Alan and the Horde medics are going to help. When are you off?"
"As soon as I finish downloading the last of the Dev files."
"Well - I know it's hopelessly inadequate, but - thanks."
"It was my pleasure, Dr. Taylor."
She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Then straightening, she plucked at Masterson's sleeve. "Come on. You promised."
"Eeuh. Needles. I hate needles." He got up and extended a hand to the Doctor. Returning that irrepressible grin, the Doctor shook it firmly.
"Stay out of trouble, Professor. You're out of your league with these two."
Alan looked from Anna's retreating figure to Palas, whose golden eyes glinted. "I know," he whispered, leaning close. "I can hardly wait!"
"ALAN! DAMMIT!"
"Coming, dear!" he warbled and trotted out of the TARDIS after her.
"Are you sure you don't want to stay a little while longer?" Palas tempted. "Explore the danship? One of the recon units I sent in has reported a community of non-Dev aliens. They've apparently been living in one of the more remote biozones for hundreds of years, unknown to their abductors. And once we get the ship up and running...."
"You be careful about that, Palas McAllister." Then he shook his head, wistfully. "I would love to have a poke around that ship, but I have to get this information back to Gallifrey. The Time Lord High Council needs to know about the Dev."
A sudden silence fell between them. Danner was at the far end of the console room, examining the Doctor's clocks with far more interest than they deserved. The Doctor looked down at the console, traced the familiar lines with a finger.
"I don't suppose...?"
"You know I can't." Her voice was calm, but when he lifted his eyes to hers they were bleak as winter skies.
He took a step toward her, but she shook her head - a quick, almost frightened gesture.
"Don't," she said. "If you come nearer, I won't be able to say good-bye. You may no longer be blackstone, but you're still the most interesting man I've ever met."
"Palas . . ."
"Doctor, no." Her voice faltered. She drew a long breath. "You know it's impossible. The Dev are gone. They decimated our world, ruled over us, waged wars, all to fuel their damned ship. Climbing back from that is not going to be easy. I can help -- a lot."
The Doctor nodded, knowing it was true. Between the Consortium and the Horde, Earth's chances to recover would be significantly enhanced. He had been selfish to even ask.
"Au revoir," he said at last.
Her response was a whisper in his mind. He shivered as a delicious thrill ran through his body. Then she was gone, her glowering guardian in tow.
"I wish you'd stay, too."
The Doctor looked around. Danner stood a few feet away, hands in his pockets.
"You could come," tempted the Time Lord. "There's a lot out there."
"Damn it, Doctor. I saw those things -- four of them. Maybe they aren't coming for us, but maybe they are. I can't take that chance."
The last of the data was in. He encrypted the file -- it was huge -- and buried it. The High Council was not going to be pleased about this. Absolutely not.
"They're millions of light years away, Danner. It will take them a long time to get here."
"And I'll probably be around to greet them." He sounded vaguely appalled.
"Oh, it's not so bad." The Doctor draped an arm over the human's shoulders. "You gain a certain wisdom, a perspective on the universe that shorter-lived individuals can never hope to attain."
"You are so full of shit," Danner laughed.
They faced each other by the door. The Doctor held out his hand.
"Good-bye Danner."
The other man stared at it a moment, then shook his head.
"The hell with that." He threw his arms around the Time Lord and gave him a quick, hard embrace. "If you hadn't pulled the plug, we'd be toast. We owe you. I owe you. Look in on us now and then, OK?"
"Promise."
And Danner was gone, running out onto the wet earth of the Horde camp. The Doctor watched Palas turn. Danner hesitated, then fell into step with her. Nelson's shoulders stiffened. Shaking his head, the Time Lord shut the door. Poor Miles. Another man who could only dream.
The Doctor stood a moment, wondering why the silence always reverberated so after people left. He walked back to the console. Lights blinked.
"That's right, old thing. We're going to Gallifrey. You can manage that, can't you?"
Something that sounded suspiciously like a snort echoed through the ship. Familiar as breathing, the wheezing began. The TARDIS slipped smoothly from one reality to another as it gleefully processed the coordinate. It was going home. And he? The Doctor smiled as he settled into his beloved old armchair.
He was already there.
***
The End