|      
        
       Chrístõ was worried. Worried for two reasons. 
        First of all Natalie. She had good days and bad days like anyone else 
        with the sort of illness she was suffering. And today was one of the bad 
        days when the best he could do was tuck her up in bed in the medical room 
        and administer sedatives and tender loving care. 
      
        And in the middle of doing that he had a videophone message from the Chancellor 
        of the High Council.  
      
        “Sir,” Chrístõ stood to attention as he addressed 
        him. Chancellor Remonte was his uncle, his father’s brother, but 
        this was no family occasion. He was sitting in the Chancellor’s 
        office with the great Seal of Rassilon behind his back. This was business. 
      
        “Chrístõ,” Remonte began. “I apologise 
        for the abruptness of this, but it is necessary. Do you know anything 
        about the planet of Ariclia Castria in the Gemini sector?”  
      
        “No,” he answered. “Should I?” He keyed in the 
        name on his database and found no more than five lines about the topography 
        and the classification of the people as feudal-technological humanoids 
        who had made first contact and had space travel capability but rarely 
        used it as they were an isolationist society who shunned alien society. 
         
      
        “We have an agent missing on that planet.”  
      
        “An ‘agent’?”  
      
        “You are not the only Gallifreyan who occasionally does work for 
        the High Council. We have been concerned that Ariclia is developing time 
        travel technology. We sent an undercover agent to report on whether they 
        are likely to succeed, and whether we should encourage or discourage them.” 
      
        “And he is missing?” Chrístõ noted that fact 
        dispassionately. “You want me to go and look for him.”  
      
        “Yes.”  
      
        “Who is the agent?”  
      
        “Paracell Hext,” he answered and frowned as Chrístõ 
        laughed hollowly and with just too much Schadenfreude in the cadence. 
      
        “You want ME, the half blood, to go and rescue the great Paracell 
        Hext, Summa Cum Laude of the class of 245FO? The one who led the ‘Pure 
        Prydonian Movement’ to expel all half-bloods and Caretakers from 
        the Academy? The one whose friends held me down while he carved a brand 
        into my neck. The one who received no punishment for that act of cowardly 
        bullying even though the whole Academy, staff and students, knew that 
        he did it?”  
      
        “Chrístõ…” Remonte sighed. “Whatever 
        your feelings for him, he is still a Gallifreyan, a Time Lord, who is 
        in possibly hostile territory. And you are the only agent available with 
        enough offworld experience.”  
      
        “I am NOT an AGENT of the Gallifreyan government. I am a civilian, 
        and an under age civilian at THAT.”  
      
        “My apologies, Chrístõ,” his uncle answered. 
        “Your experience outweighs your youth in the minds of those of the 
        council who hold your name in high regard.”  
      
        “And the rest hope that I’ll bite off more than I can chew 
        one day and what’s left of me gets posted back to my father in a 
        very small casket.”  
      
        Remonte opened his mouth to reply to that, but there was no answer he 
        could give that wouldn’t be a lie. Chrístõ DID stand 
        highly in the eyes of many High Council members. The more so since his 
        part in the battle against the disgraced Lord Ravenswode’s clone 
        army. But there were still those whose prejudices were so ingrained they 
        made Ravenswode seem a reasonable man. They even muttered against HIS 
        appointment as Chancellor because he was uncle to the notorious Half Blood. 
        Yes, they would be pleased to see Chrístõ fail. But it was 
        not they who had thought of sending for him when they knew that Hext was 
        in trouble.  
      
        “This was your idea, uncle?” Chrístõ couldn’t 
        read his mind over videophone. The frequency interfered with the telepathic 
        signal. But he could read his face almost as easily.  
      
        “You are the best man for the job, Chrístõ. If you 
        can set your own prejudices aside, that is.”  
      
        “MY prejudices?” Chrístõ was scathing in his 
        response. “As I said, I am NOT an agent of the government. I am 
        a free Gallifreyan who owes no more allegiance than any other citizen. 
        No. I have enough to do. Let somebody else rescue your golden boy from 
        the alien hordes.”  
      
        “That was a very childish response,” Remonte answered him. 
        “As well as bordering on disrespectful to me as your uncle AND as 
        Chancellor.”  
      
        Chrístõ replied with a low Gallifreyan curse that WAS, without 
        doubt, disrespectful to Remonte de Lœngbærrow in every way. 
      
        He turned off the videophone and stepped away from the console. As he 
        did so, he was aware of a bleeping sound at the navigation panel. He looked 
        and found a co-ordinate being fed into it. He felt the engines change 
        pitch as his TARDIS changed course. When he returned to his communications 
        console there was a text message from Chancellor Remonte telling him that 
        this was the source of the sub-space distress signal sent by Paracell 
        Hext before all contact was lost with him. 
      
        That was why Remonte was Chancellor, Chrístõ noted with 
        a touch of bitterness. He KNEW people. He knew that, angry as he was, 
        he would have accepted the task eventually.  
      
        Remonte knew that he would not have answered another videophone call from 
        him, though. And that in ignoring it he would be invoking a reprimand 
        on himself for insubordination.  
      
        This way, both of them saved a little bit of embarrassment.  
      
      “I don’t know what to expect in this place,” he told 
        Julia and Natalie. “So I am going to lock the door when I go out 
        and initiate the alarm.”  
      
        “It’s dangerous, isn’t it?” Julia said.  
      
        “Danger is my middle name,” he answered. 
      
        “No it isn’t. It’s….” He smiled as her lips 
        moved silently, working out the syllables of his name. “It’s 
        Dracœfire. Which has something to do with dragons.” 
      
        “One of my ancestors allegedly fought one,” he said with a 
        smile. “And with ancestors like that I can hardly baulk at a little 
        danger. So you take care of Natalie for today. I will try not to be too 
        long about this.”  
      
        Julia clung to him tightly. “I’m scared, Chrístõ. 
        If you go out there, I might never see you again.”  
      
        “Julia…” She was not one given to irrational fears. 
        She had been along with him in plenty of difficult and frightening situations. 
         
      
        The trouble was, he didn’t have any reassurance to give her. This 
        WAS an unknown and incalculable danger.  
      
        “I wouldn’t mind so much if I was with you,” she told 
        him. “It’s having to wait.” 
      
        “I know. But I DO need you to look after Natalie. She shouldn’t 
        be left alone. So, kiss me now and let me go and do my work.” He 
        enclosed her in his arms and she kissed him lovingly. Natalie reached 
        out from her bed to be hugged by him, too. And Humphrey gave him the boggart 
        equivalent of a cuddle before he turned and left the medical room. He 
        checked the environmental console before stepping out of the TARDIS. It 
        told him that he was in a small industrial town with a population of some 
        3,000.  
      
        What it didn’t tell him was that the population all suffered a common 
        affliction.  
       He stood by the door of his TARDIS. It had disguised itself 
        as a disused shop front. On the door, instead of the usual  , 
        were a series of raised indentations.  
         
      
         
      
        It was a moment before he realised they were BRAILLE for Theta Sigma. 
         
      
        Because everyone on this planet was BLIND.  
      
        He watched the people on the streets. Every single one of them had eyes 
        that were blank and unseeing. They didn’t even seem to blink very 
        often.  
      
        There were no cars, of course. Everyone walked. They all walked the same 
        direction in long crocodiles, reaching ahead to hold the shoulder of the 
        man or woman in front. The one in front had a sort of short stick that 
        Chrístõ assumed was a sensor that told him where to walk. 
        They didn’t talk much. They stepped along as if they had somewhere 
        they needed to go. Work, he guessed, since they all wore a sort of grey, 
        workaday overall.  
      
        A world where everyone was blind.  
      
        Why?  
      
        Was there some sort of accident? Was it genetic?  
      
        He glanced at his wristheld lifesigns monitor. The DNA of the indigenous 
        species showed up as off-white blips, moving in a steady stream. The dark 
        blue blip that had to be Paracell Hext wasn’t moving. It was somewhere 
        near here. But it wasn’t moving.  
      
        There was a crocodile of blind Ariclians blocking his way. He had to wait 
        until they were clear before he could dart across the road. It occurred 
        to him as he did so that it WAS a road. Once, surely, the Ariclians DID 
        have sight and had vehicles that went on those roads.  
      
        There was an alleyway between two buildings with Braille signs at hand 
        level proclaiming them as a grocery shop and a bakery. Neither, he noticed, 
        had any produce in the windows. There was no call for window dressing 
        in a world of blind people. But he had a feeling there wasn’t a 
        lot for sale inside either.  
      
        “Who’s there?” a weak voice called. “Leave me 
        to die in peace. You’ve done your worst to me.”  
      
        The voice was speaking in Gallifreyan. He was obviously delirious and 
        forgetting that he was supposed to speak the local language.  
      
        “Hext?” Chrístõ called to him. It had to be 
        him. Who else would it be? He stepped forward warily and moved aside a 
        pile of cardboard boxes with the name of the baker in Braille upon them. 
         
      
        He let out an astonished and rather repulsed cry as he saw the battered 
        figure, dressed in nothing but a pair of grey trousers. 
      
        It was all he could do not to scream out loud when the face turned towards 
        the sound of his voice. Empty, raw, bleeding eye sockets stared blindly 
        at him.  
      
        “Who is that? How do you know my name?”  
      
        Chrístõ looked at him for a long moment and remembered bitterly 
        the way this man had tortured him when he was little more than a boy. 
        He wondered briefly how hard he could hit him with any of the pieces of 
        rubble and debris around this alleyway. The urge to take revenge on this 
        man when he was helpless rose up in his gut like bile.  
      
        “No,” a voice that seemed to come from his own soul told him. 
        “No. That is not our way.”  
      
        “Master Li Tuo,” Chrístõ whispered. “It 
        is you…” He knew it was. He had occasionally argued with his 
        own conscience and it could seem a real entity within him. But this felt 
        different. He felt another will entirely lending its strength to his as 
        he battled with that desire for revenge.  
      
        And he was right. To hurt somebody as vulnerable as that would be shameful. 
        A momentary gratification he would rue long afterwards. 
      
        “You sent a distress signal,” Chrístõ told him. 
        “I came to help you.”  
      
        “You’re… you’re from Gallifrey…”  
      
        “Yes,” Chrístõ answered as he examined him carefully. 
        “Can you stand? What happened to you? Why haven’t your wounds 
        repaired? You’re a Time Lord. Why hasn’t your body mended?” 
         
      
        “They used something on me. A drug. It increased the pain when they 
        tortured me and it inhibited my regenerative cells. I can’t…” 
        Chrístõ tried to lift him to his feet, but he screamed in 
        agony. “My leg… it’s broken.”  
      
        “So I see,” Chrístõ noted. “You don’t 
        handle pain very well. Don’t you remember what we learnt from the 
        Monks of Malvoria about living through pain. Concentrate on pushing through 
        the pain barrier.” 
      
        “I can’t,” he moaned. Chrístõ noted the 
        defeatist tone in his voice. The Brotherhood on Mount Lœng would 
        not tolerate that for a second. He remembered hours of meditation as punishment 
        for using the phrase “I can’t” in their presence.  
      
        He WAS badly injured. He understood that. He had never seen a Time Lord 
        with that many injuries. That drug which inhibited his natural regenerative 
        capability sounded dangerous. He wondered was it a side effect of the 
        pain enhancing or a deliberate attack on a Time Lord’s abilities. 
         
      
        “Stop moaning,” he snapped at Hext. “I’m doing 
        my best for you.”  
      
        Actually, he wasn’t. If he wanted he could have helped him to withstand 
        the pain. He could have hypnotised him or drawn the pain off for him. 
        But even if it was a mean-minded and ungracious thought, even though it 
        went against that Hippocratic oath he never got around to taking, he felt 
        that Paracell Hext deserved to suffer a little more just yet.  
      
        At least as long as he had when Hext and his friends hurt him.  
      
        He wasn’t a Time Lord then. He was a tyro in his first decade at 
        the Academy. Hardly more than a child. And yes, he had cried. What they 
        did to him hurt. And he had been scared, too. Because he was sure they 
        meant to kill him when they were done. 
      
        Lucky for Hext he didn’t, Chrístõ thought with a certain 
        satisfaction.  
      
        “Where is your TARDIS?” he asked. “Is it near here?” 
         
      
        “She has it, the Queen, the leader of the people here,” he 
        groaned. “She took it. They tortured me for the secret of how it 
        worked.”  
      
        “And you told them?”  
      
        “They gouged out my EYES!” he protested. “I just wanted 
        them to STOP.”  
      
        “You gave away Time Lord secrets? That’s TREASON.” Chrístõ 
        sighed deeply. “Ok, you’ll have to walk to my TARDIS. It's 
        not far, but for you, moaning all the way, it’s going to seem like 
        it.”  
      
        They had to wait for another crocodile of blind workers passing by. He 
        looked across the road to his TARDIS and decided he didn’t want 
        to waste any more time. He lifted Hext over his shoulder like a sack and 
        ran. He didn’t stop until he reached the console room.  
      
        There he put him down on the floor and examined him again. His eye sockets 
        were bleeding. He looked WORSE than before.  
      
        “I think you’re dying,” Chrístõ told him. 
        “Considering that your career is over when this gets back to the 
        High Council,maybe you’re better off.”  
      
        “Who ARE you?” Hext asked as Chrístõ put a bandage 
        from the first aid kit around his eyes. “Did the High Council send 
        you?”  
      
        “Yes, they did,” he answered. He ignored the first question 
        and Hext was in no position to press it. “Ok, I’m going to 
        get you to a bed.”  
      
        He lifted him upright again and walked with him to the medical room.  
      
        “Oh my!” Julia gasped as he laid Hext on the examination table. 
        “Who is he?”  
      
        “He is the man I was sent to rescue. He is very badly injured but 
        not as bad as he is making out. He’s a bit of a cry baby. Can you 
        make sure he doesn’t fall off the table while I take a blood sample 
        and start to find out how to help him?” 
      
        Another kick in Hext’s ego, Chrístõ thought. Being 
        looked after by a twelve year old Human girl.  
      
        Julia wondered about the cold note in Chrístõ’s voice. 
        He was usually much kinder to sick people.  
      
        “Ok,” he said after he had examined Hext’s blood carefully. 
        “I’ve identified the drug. I’m going to move you to 
        a more comfortable bed then I’ll set up a drip with a counter-agent. 
        Your body will start to recover in a few hours. The eyes will take much 
        longer though. Maybe as much as a month. Eyes are tricky.”  
      
        “You said I was dying,” Hext responded as Chrístõ 
        lifted him from the table. He reached out blindly and held him by the 
        back of the neck as he carried him effortlessly to a bed beside where 
        Natalie lay and set up the drip into his arm.  
      
        “Well, you’re not now. Just lie down and be quiet. I’ve 
        got another patient to look after.”  
      
        He turned and went to look at Natalie. She was waking up from a sleep 
        and looked a little better than she did.  
      
        “You’re not getting out of bed for a bit, either. But that’s 
        ok, because we’re here to look after you.” He kissed her on 
        the cheek and then returned to his more urgent patient. He unfastened 
        the bandage over his eyes. He heard Julia gasp in horror as she saw him. 
         
      
        “That’s horrible! Why did they do that to him?”  
      
        “To get him to betray the secrets of time travel,” Chrístõ 
        answered with an angry note in his voice. “You were sent here to 
        find out what experiments the Ariclians were doing with time travel, and 
        whether it was anything that would conflict with our Laws of Time. And 
        you handed them the whole secret of OUR time travel.”  
      
        “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.  
      
        “So you bloody well should be. Especially since I have to sort the 
        mess out.”  
      
        “I thought you just had to rescue him,” Julia said. “Can’t 
        we go now?”  
      
        “No. I have to rescue his TARDIS, too. And I need to finish his 
        job, making sure the people who would do this sort of torture aren’t 
        allowed to develop time travel and the power over other beings that affords.” 
      
        “It’s not ALL the Ariclians,” Hext told him. “The 
        ordinary ones, the ones in the street, they’re just workers. They 
        do as they’re told. It’s the Queen, and her guards. They’re 
        the problem.”  
      
        “Ok,” Chrístõ said. “So I need to free 
        a people from slavery, too. All in a day’s work.  
      
        “Chrístõ, be careful,” Julia told him. “I 
        don’t want you to….” She glanced at Hext’s sightless 
        eye-sockets and shuddered as she thought of Chrístõ subjected 
        to such barbarism.  
      
        “I WILL be,” he assured her. “You’re head nurse 
        again, Julia. Watch him. If Natalie feels up to it, you can read her your 
        literature essay. We’ll try to keep up your education as WELL as 
        running a field hospital.” 
      
        “Are you going out again, Chrístõ?” she asked 
        him.  
      
        “Not yet,” he answered. “I’m just going to check 
        some things in the console room and report in to the Chancellor, seeing 
        as he was so anxious about this one’s whereabouts.” 
      
      “Why doesn’t he like you?” Julia asked the patient 
        after he left the room. “Even if you have done something really 
        stupid, he is not usually like that… cold and mean.”  
      
        “Who is he?” Hext asked. “I keep thinking that I know 
        him. but…. He IS a Time Lord? One of ours?”  
      
        “Yes, he is,” Julia answered. “A very wonderful one. 
        You should be glad to be alive. You wouldn’t be without him.” 
         
      
        “I DO know him,” he said. “I just don’t know why.” 
      
        “If you’re not in any pain now you should sleep. You might 
        be better when you wake up. Chrístõ says your eyes will 
        grow back eventually.”  
      
        “Chrístõ?”  
      
        “Go to sleep,” Julia insisted. “If you’re really 
        lucky, he will have sorted out all your other problems by the time you 
        wake up.”  
      
      When he returned Chrístõ watched for a while, unnoticed 
        by Julia. She seemed to have taken to the Head Nurse role very well. Hext 
        lay still and Chrístõ felt him slip into, not sleep as such, 
        but a low level meditative trance that WOULD help his body to recharge 
        and mend. He stepped towards the bed and looked at him closely.  
      
        “It’s working already. But his eyes ARE going to take a long 
        time. Until he can see he will have to rely on other resources unless 
        he wants to remain helpless.”  
      
        “Why do you hate him?”  
      
        “Long story, not one I want to talk about,” he answered. “Julia, 
        come with me. There’s something I have to do. It might seem a little 
        strange, even a little horrible. But I have my reasons.”  
      
        She followed him through to the console room. He looked at the viewscreen 
        and noted that a crocodile of blind workers was passing in front of the 
        disguised TARDIS. He opened the door and he and Julia watched them walk 
        silently past. Then as the last one drew level he reached out and grabbed 
        the man, pulling him into the TARDIS as Julia slammed the door shut again. 
         
      
        The man screamed in terror, of course. Chrístõ held him 
        firmly but gently. He didn’t want to hurt him. He put his hand on 
        his forehead and radiated calming thoughts. It only partially worked. 
        The man seemed to think he had been taken by some kind of punishment squad. 
      
        “Please, don’t hurt me,” he begged. “I haven’t 
        done any wrong. I work hard. Please…”  
      
        “I’m not going to hurt you,” Chrístõ promised. 
        “I’m not who you think I am. And I mean you no harm. But I 
        want to look at your eyes. Please come with me.”  
      
        He lifted the man to his feet and guided him to the medical room. This 
        was the most people he had ever treated in it, he thought with a wry smile. 
        He recalled looking after Cassie during her pregnancy. He remembered when 
        Sammie was his patient. He remembered with a shudder when he, himself, 
        had been a patient, and the many times recently that he had looked after 
        Natalie’s needs.  
      
        “Sit down,” he said gently to the man, pressing him into a 
        chair. “Can you tell me your name?”  
      
        “Worker J-564,” he replied. “I am obedient. I do no 
        wrong. I work hard. Please don’t let Savine hurt me…” 
         
      
        “Savine, whoever that is, has nothing to do with this. I’m 
        here to help you.” Chrístõ adjusted the sonic screwdriver 
        and used it to examine the man’s eyes. He was astonished by what 
        he found. “Your blindness… it’s chemically induced.” 
         
      
        “It’s what?” Julia looked at the man’s blank eyes 
        and then at Chrístõ as he continued to examine the man, 
        finding him in good health apart from being a little malnourished. He 
        sent Julia to bring food for all of them and as the man ate, gratefully, 
        he explained his findings. 
      
        “The reason why you cannot see is not natural. It is something introduced 
        into your body. Something that should not be there. And by the same token, 
        something that can be removed. It is not dissimilar to the pain enhancer 
        that was given to my friend there when he was tortured.” 
      
        “I am a worker,” J-564 answered him. “Workers are not 
        permitted to see. We do Savine’s will and we are rewarded with life, 
        food, shelter.” 
      
        “You have never been able to see?” Chrístõ asked. 
         
      
        “Once, yes,” he answered. “Before Savine brought the 
        curse upon us. Now… I am a worker… I do what I can. I stay 
        alive.”  
      
        “Chrístõ….” He was startled to hear Hext’s 
        voice and turned around to him. “If you’re thinking of giving 
        him his sight… Don’t. It would do him no good. Savine would 
        only punish him. Workers are not allowed to see.” 
      
        “We can’t allow that to go on,” Chrístõ 
        answered. “It’s barbaric.”  
      
        “It’s nothing to do with us. My job was to find out what the 
        Ariclians knew about time travel. Yours is to get me and my TARDIS OUT 
        of the mess that… yes, all right, the mess I made of it. The PEOPLE 
        here are NOT our problem.”  
      
        “They ARE,” Julia protested. “They have to be.” 
      
        “You are NOT a Time Lord,” Hext answered her. “I’m 
        not sure why you are here at all, in a TARDIS. But this is no concern 
        of yours. Interference in the affairs of alien races is against the Laws 
        of Time.” 
      
        “Except when they are about to discover the secret of time travel 
        and may become a rival for the power we have held a monopoly over for 
        millennia,” Chrístõ noted with a hint of sarcasm in 
        his voice. “They considered THAT worth interfering with. But they 
        are happy to let people live under tyranny.”  
      
        “Now I know who you are,” Hext said. “You’re the 
        half-blood heir of Lœngbærrow. I remember your oral presentation 
        for your ethics examination. You argued against our laws of non-interference. 
        Your ideas were so ridiculously radical. You would have failed the examination, 
        but your tutors thought you were deliberately putting the opposition viewpoint 
        in order to emphasise WHY we have those laws. They rewarded you for being 
        innovative in your presentation. I was never sure. The PASSION that you 
        put into the argument. I knew you weren’t just acting. You really 
        BELIEVED our laws should be changed.” 
      
        “And so they SHOULD,” Chrístõ responded. He 
        turned back to Worker J-564, whose immediate issues had been forgotten 
        by both Time Lords as they debated theoretical ethics.  
      
        “I can make you see,” Chrístõ said. “I 
        can free you from this terrible thing which has been done to you. Or I 
        can… I can wipe your memory of being brought here, and take you 
        back to the moment I grabbed you from the line, and you need never know 
        anything about it.”  
      
        “Do you mean to fight Savine?” J-564 asked him.  
      
        “No,” Hext answered.  
      
        “Yes,” Chrístõ contradicted him. “I contacted 
        the Chancellor while you were sleeping. He told me that this is MY mission 
        now. And he told me to take any steps I deem appropriate to repair the 
        damage you caused. Because it really IS your fault.” 
      
        “How is it my fault?” 
      
        “You were sent to investigate the Ariclian development of time travel. 
        But they DIDN’T HAVE any time travel research until YOU let your 
        TARDIS fall into their hands. You came back too far into Ariclian history 
        and TRIGGERED that development. Now it has to be stopped. And it is not 
        enough to get your TARDIS back. We have to ensure that the information 
        they already have is of no use. A popular revolt of the people will halt 
        the research. I intend to find a way to give ALL the people their sight 
        back. Then they can overthrow Savine and end this.” 
      
        “The Chancellor agreed to all of that?” Hext demanded.  
      
        “No,” Chrístõ responded. “As I said, he 
        told me to take any steps I deemed appropriate. Those are the steps I 
        intend to take. But not yet. I’m not going to be on my own this 
        time. You will be fit for action in a few hours. We will work together. 
        That is to say you will follow my command as I take those appropriate 
        steps.” Again he turned back to Worker J-564. “You’ve 
        heard all of that. You know what is at stake. How do you feel about playing 
        your part in it?”  
      
        “If you can give me my sight,” he said. “I will be your 
        servant my life long.”  
      
        “That is the point,” Chrístõ answered him. “When 
        I restore your sight you need never be anyone’s servant.” 
        He called Julia to his side and with her help he set up another drip with 
        a drug in it that would counter the one in J-564’s bloodstream. 
         
      
        “How long will it take?” she asked. “When will he see?” 
         
      
        “In a few hours. He’s luckier than Hext.”  
      
        He set up a makeshift third bed for J-564 and made him rest. He himself 
        sat on a chair between his three patients. He tended to Natalie when she 
        needed him. He checked on J-564. He examined Hext from time to time to 
        ensure that he was recovering. He was. The inhibiting drug was cleaned 
        from his blood now and his broken leg and his other injuries were repaired. 
        His eye sockets were no longer bleeding. They just looked empty. 
      
        “How do you intend for me to help you?” Hext asked. It was 
        the first time he had spoken in an hour. “I can’t see.” 
         
      
        “Neither can most of the people here on this planet, and they do 
        fine,” Chrístõ answered. “But you have a lot 
        of face to save. The High Council are rather disappointed with you, Hext. 
        If I can report that you at least did your duty here it might redeem you 
        a little. Not that I care about YOUR reputation. But since you have some 
        experience of this place already, you can help me.”  
      
        “Chrístõ…” Hext’s voice was strange 
        when he spoke again. “Your speech… I thought it was a good 
        one. I’m not sure I really agree with you. But I thought it was 
        impressive. I’m not surprised you did well at the Academy.” 
         
      
        “No thanks to the likes of you,” he answered.  
      
        “No,” Hext agreed and sighed. Then he did something unexpected. 
        He reached out his arm and found Chrístõ’s shoulder. 
        His hand moved up towards his neck, feeling with his fingers. Chrístõ 
        knew what he was looking for. He flinched as he felt Hext’s hand 
        find the scar hidden beneath his shirt collar. But he didn’t stop 
        him.  
      
        “So you remember that too,” Chrístõ said coldly. 
        “The FIRST time we met.”  
      
        “It was a stupid, shameful, cowardly thing to do.”  
      
        “Yes, it was,” Chrístõ answered, moving his 
        hand away.  
      
        “I was showing off to my friends. I never would have done such a 
        thing otherwise. I still believed half-bloods had no place in the academy. 
        But to attack you was shameful and unworthy of a Gallifreyan. It was dishonourable.” 
         
      
        “Yes, it was.”  
      
        “If it’s any consolation to you, my father had our manservant 
        whip me for an hour when he found out.”  
      
        “No, it isn’t,” Chrístõ replied. “Violence 
        leading to more violence. That’s what causes so many problems in 
        this universe.” 
      
        Deep within him he felt the spirit of Li Tuo smile at that answer. It 
        was the right one.  
      
        “Then… will you forgive me, Chrístõ?” 
        he said.  
      
        “No,” Chrístõ answered. “I will never 
        forgive you. I am prepared to set it aside for the sake of the more important 
        mission we have before us. But don’t imagine such a thing can be 
        forgiven or forgotten. Your excuse for doing it only proves that you are 
        weak-minded and easily led. To say nothing of cowardly. And I need hardly 
        add that your actions here on Aricula have not helped redeem you in that 
        respect.”  
      
        He felt this time that it WASN’T the answer Li Tuo would have wanted 
        him to give, but it was the answer that lay deep in his hearts.  
      
        “Chrístõ,” Julia called to him from beside Natalie’s 
        bed. He went to them.  
      
        “Chrístõ,” Natalie said in a quiet voice. “Forgive 
        him.”  
      
        “Natalie, dear,” he replied to her. “You don’t 
        know the whole story. Only what you have heard here. It is not so easy 
        for me…”  
      
        “Chrístõ,” she said again. “Such bitterness 
        is so unlike you. I hate the thought of it burning inside your soul forever. 
        For your own sake, if not for his, try.”  
      
        “Natalie,” Chrístõ leaned forward and kissed 
        her on the cheek. “I think you’re taking advantage of my compassion 
        for you as a dying woman.”  
      
        “Is it that obvious?” she asked with a laugh.  
      
        “Transparent,” he answered. “But how can I refuse?” 
        He kissed her again and then went to Hext. He said nothing, but he took 
        his hand and held it for a long time. He saw Natalie watching from her 
        sick bed. She smiled warmly at him.  
      
        Deep inside he thought Li Tuo was smiling too.  
      
        “I don’t have a chance, between you both, do I?” he 
        whispered.  
      
        His other patient had a tough time of it, too. He cried out at the stabbing 
        pains behind his eyes as the counter agent dispelled the chemical and 
        the optic nerves began to function again, after being blocked for almost 
        ten years of his life. That was how long he had been blind. It had happened 
        in a matter of minutes, he said, on the day that Savine was crowned as 
        queen of Aricula. All the people of the capital city had been told to 
        go to the great square outside the palace. They were made to drink a strange 
        kind of liquid that Savine’s royal guard distributed. Those who 
        refused were beaten until they submitted. They had been frightened, convinced 
        it was a poison. But it wasn’t death that had come to them but darkness. 
         
      
        Savine had proclaimed that she would not have any of her subjects looking 
        on her. They were to be blind for as long as she was queen, and they were 
        to do her bidding. Then she had the sighted guards escort them to their 
        homes, and at first the guards had brought them to the factories from 
        their homes until gradually they learnt to make the journey without supervision. 
        Punishments were meted out to those who disobeyed. Sometimes those punishments 
        were physical tortures. Sometimes family members were taken away and ‘relocated’. 
        J-564 told Chrístõ that his mother and sisters had been 
        relocated early in the regime. And later his father and brother.  
      
        “That took the heart out of me,” he admitted. “After 
        that I just kept my head down and worked. Until…. Until you…” 
         
      
        He gasped and gripped Chrístõ’s hand tightly.  
      
        “I think… I think I can see!” he cried. “I can 
        see. I can see you.” 
      
        It was fuzzy and blurred at first. But it took only a little time, a half 
        hour, before his sight was as sharp as anyone’s. He was overwhelming 
        in his praise for Chrístõ, his saviour. 
      
        “Oh, my young lord, how can I repay you?”  
      
        “None of that lord stuff, for a start,” he answered. “What 
        I need from you is courage. You’ve been beaten for so long. It isn’t 
        easy. I know that well enough. I know what it is to be pushed down so 
        low you can’t even see the sky.” He knew Hext was listening 
        when he said that. He was meant to be. “Are you ready, do you think?” 
         
      
        “I have been rested and warm and fed here,” he answered. “I 
        am more ready than any day I have spent toiling in the factory.” 
         
      
        “What about you, Hext?” Chrístõ asked. “Are 
        you ready?”  
      
        “How can I be?” he argued. “I am BLIND, remember.” 
         
      
        Chrístõ went to him. He put his hands either side of his 
        head and concentrated. He found the severed optic nerves in Hext’s 
        skull and concentrated on them. He mentally connected them to his own. 
        For a moment he felt Hext’s own confusion as he seemed to be looking 
        at his own self, then he understood. 
      
        “I’m seeing through your eyes.”  
      
        “Yes,” Chrístõ told him. “Pity you can’t 
        walk in my shoes, too. Get up now. There are clothes there by your side. 
        Get ready.” He turned to Julia. “This time it IS going to 
        be dangerous. You must wait patiently and be brave.”  
      
        “I will,” she said. “I wish I could see what you’re 
        seeing. I would be less scared.”  
      
        “I can’t do it for two people at once. It’s quite tiring 
        as it is. Besides, sometimes I see horrible things that you shouldn’t 
        see.” She gave him a look that reminded him, without any need of 
        telepathy, that few things he saw matched the horror she went through 
        before he rescued her. But he did not intend for her to see any other 
        horrors if he could avoid it.  
      
        He kissed her gently and Natalie too, then he called on his two fellow 
        revolutionaries. He looked at J-564.  
      
        “I never asked. Do you have a real name?”  
      
        “Joseph,” he answered. “Joe…”  
      
        “Well, that’s better. Come on, Joe. Let’s see what we 
        can do for your world.”  
      
        He brought them to the console room. He told Joe to watch the viewscreen 
        and guided Hext to the drive control.  
      
        “When I move away you won’t be looking at what’s in 
        front of you. You’ll be seeing what I see. But you should be familiar 
        with the drive controls of a Type 40. They were the new model when you 
        graduated. My year got them second hand from your lot.” He checked 
        the environmental console and laughed softly. “I see your TARDIS 
        is equipped with a Dimensional Recognition Device.”  
      
        “They’re standard issue,” he answered.  
      
        “Yeah, I know,” Chrístõ told him. “It 
        was my first accepted patent. I was only 150. I got quite bigheaded for 
        a while about it. Until my father made me put the royalties into a trust 
        fund for underprivileged students. You did know I invented the DRD, didn’t 
        you?”  
      
        “Can you stop enjoying your victory over me for the moment,” 
        Hext complained. “Does that mean you’ve located my TARDIS, 
        by the way?” 
      
        “It does,” he said. “It’s in a large building 
        which I’m guessing is Savine’s palace. We’ll get it 
        later. First, I’m interested in these places around the city. Joe… 
        can you tell me what they are?”  
      
        “I would GUESS that they’re the water dispensing centres. 
        We are given bottles of drinking water for our personal use every day. 
        There is no other source of water since Savine ordered it to be that way.” 
         
      
        “They’re all showing up as sources of the chemical that causes 
        your blindness. She has been poisoning you all daily. Let’s go and 
        look at one of them. Are they guarded?”  
      
        “Not during work shifts,” Joe answered. “Only at change 
        of shift when the people come for their water.”  
      
        That was what he wanted to hear. He set the co-ordinate for the nearest 
        of the centres and told Hext to initialise the drive control. He managed 
        to get the right switch. A moment later they stepped out into a different 
        part of the city.  
      
        The water dispensing centre was a wall with taps set into it such as might 
        be found at a campsite. It all looked quite un-sinister until Chrístõ 
        noticed something beside the wall. It looked like a pressurised gas canister. 
        Again thoughts of organised camping came to mind. But this was not gas. 
         
      
        “It’s connected to the water pipes,” Chrístõ 
        noted. “How very simplistic.” He bent by the canister and 
        adjusted the pressurised nozzle at the top. There was a sound of hissing 
        and he stepped back as the chemical expelled into the air.  
      
        “That seems too easy,” Hext said as they travelled to each 
        of the other water centres. “Far too easy.”  
      
        “I agree,” Chrístõ told him. “It will 
        take a while before the people start to see again. We need to go get your 
        TARDIS and see what Savine has to say for herself.” 
      
        “We’re going to confront that woman?” Hext looked scared. 
        REALLY scared.  
      
        “She’s JUST a woman isn’t she?” Chrístõ 
        asked.  
      
        “She’s more than JUST a woman,” Hext answered. Joe, 
        too, looked nervous. “She’s a woman who enjoys causing people 
        pain.”  
      
        “There’s an old Earth expression that seems appropriate,” 
        Chrístõ said. “The pot calling the kettle black.” 
         
      
        “That’s not fair,” Hext protested. But Chrístõ 
        laughed at that. 
      
        “The universe isn’t fair,” he replied. “And even 
        if I CAN forgive you, I can’t forget. Nor have I forgotten that 
        you caved in the last time you came up against her. So I’ll be watching 
        you.”  
      
        “I’ll be watching you, watching me,” Hext sighed. “What 
        choice do I have?”  
      
        Chrístõ said nothing. He went to the environmental console 
        and scanned the location of Hext’s TARDIS carefully before he prepared 
        to do a more complicated materialisation than he had done so far today. 
        He had materialised around people many times before. But not with another 
        TARDIS nearby. He had to be very careful about how he extended his TARDIS’s 
        dimensional field or he could risk partially materialising around the 
        other TARDIS. The result would be fatal. 
      
        “It isn’t going to work, like this,” Chrístõ 
        admitted. “Joe, I think YOU had better be his eyes.” He took 
        Hext’s hands and placed them around Joe’s head. He knew Hext 
        would know what to do. He felt the lightening of his own head as Hext 
        let go of him and attached himself to Joe instead. “Ok, Joe, you 
        stand in front of the drive control. Hext will stand behind you and see 
        what you are seeing. After all those blind years, now two of you see through 
        your one pair of eyes. It’s rather ironic, really.”  
      
        Joe smiled and did as they asked him. Hext nodded as he saw the drive 
        console directly in front of him. He reached out and was a little disorientated 
        to find his arms were in a slightly different place than he expected, 
        but he compensated for it easily enough. His Time Lord brain was well-equipped 
        to deal with such a small disadvantage. 
      
        Chrístõ had calculated exactly right. As the Queen of Aricula 
        and her two closest bodyguards materialised in the TARDIS he moved quickly. 
        Before the astonished guards even raised their weapons he had rendered 
        them unconscious with some fast Sun Ko Du moves. Then he faced the Queen 
        herself, Savine the Savage, Savine the Brutal.  
        He 
        looked at the woman and his brain reeled. His own cultural conditioning 
        meant that he regarded two eyes, one either side of the bridge of the 
        nose, to be the norm, and beauty in the finer aspects of that norm.  
      
        This woman had three eyes. In the place he called normal were two blind, 
        milky blue ones that saw nothing. And in the middle of her forehead was 
        a larger eye, maybe half the size again of a normally proportioned eye 
        – again, he reminded himself, according to his own cultural conditioning 
        as to ‘normal’. It was a piercing blue. 
      
        In the land of the blind…. The Earth expression rang true in his 
        head… the one eyed man is king. Or the three-eyed woman is queen. 
      
        She was stunningly beautiful. His cultural conditioning had no trouble 
        with that. Long black hair fell down her back like a cloak. Her breast 
        was covered in a swathe of silk cloth and her torso was bare apart from 
        some intriguing tattoo work until a long, flowing skirt of the same silk 
        hung from her hips well below her waist.  
      
        “Doesn’t work on me,” he thought. “I am a Time 
        Lord. We are indifferent to such things.”  
      
        “You’re lying,” his inner voice mocked him.  
      
        “I’m behaving appropriately, with discipline,” he argued. 
        “I am a Time Lord. We think with our heads, not other parts of our 
        bodies. I am spoken for. Julia is my future wife. Besides, fiends aren’t 
        my style.”  
      
        “How dare you look upon me!” she cried out. “I will 
        have your eyes burnt from your head. Who are you?”  
      
        “I am Chrístõdavõreendiam?ndh?rt-mallõupdracœfiredelunmiancuimhne 
        de Lœngbærrow, Time Lord of Gallifrey,” Chrístõ 
        answered. “And you are my prisoner. You are in my ship. Where you 
        will remain until your people are ready to take you back and try you for 
        your crimes against them.”  
      
        “Prisoner!” she laughed coldly. “I think not.” 
         
      
        She raised her hand and opened the palm. He was astonished to see another 
        eye in the centre of her palm. It blinked. Hext gave an audible groan. 
         
      
        “It’s one of MY eyes!” he exclaimed. “Ughh… 
        that’s….”  
      
        Hext screamed as she turned the palm towards him. It seemed as if having 
        his eye implanted into her hand gave her some Time Lord powers. The Power 
        of Suggestion for one thing. She was suggesting to Hext that he was still 
        in the same state of acute agony that he was in when Chrístõ 
        found him.  
      
        “It’s all in your mind,” Chrístõ yelled 
        at him. “You’re not injured. You’re all right. Fight 
        her. Fight her with your mind.”  
      
        “I can’t!” Hext screamed. “I can’t do it.” 
         
      
        “For Rassilon’s sake!” Chrístõ screamed 
        back. “FIGHT it!” He sighed and tried to block her with his 
        own mind. Immediately he felt as if he was on fire. He felt his skin burning 
        and blackening as he was enveloped.  
      
        “It’s in my mind,” he told himself, but it wasn’t 
        helping. He was still burning.  
      
        “Chrístõ!” He heard the voice through the haze 
        of pain. It came from inside himself. “Chrístõ, concentrate. 
        Pain is merely a chemical process. You can withstand it. Fight it. Fight 
        the pain, fight what makes you weak.”  
      
        “I’m trying, Master Li,” he answered. “I am trying.” 
         
      
        “Try harder,” the voice continued. “Try harder, boy. 
        It is in you.”  
      
        He tried. He concentrated on his own two hearts, listening to them beat. 
        They were racing with fear and he slowed them to a calm, steady beat. 
        When he looked up again he was whole, and unburnt and Savine was staring 
        at him in astonishment. Hext was struggling to his feet. Chrístõ 
        didn’t hesitate one more moment. He crossed the space between himself 
        and Savine and grasped her hand in his fist. She squealed in pain as he 
        squeezed. Blood poured from her hand as he crushed the eye. He pulled 
        his sonic screwdriver from his pocket at the same time. 
      
        “This is penlight mode,” he said as he shone it painfully 
        near her third eye. “I can change it to welding mode in a second. 
        It will be less painful than what you did to my friend, and far quicker 
        than the torture you subjected Joe there and all of the people of this 
        planet to for years.”  
      
        “What do you mean to do to me?” she asked. “Kill me?” 
         
      
        “I don’t kill people,” Chrístõ answered. 
        “It’s not my job, anyway. You aren’t my responsibility. 
        I came for my friend and his time machine. YOU go back to your people, 
        but not yet. They need a couple of days without you and your poison. Then, 
        when they can SEE things clearly they can decide what to do with you.” 
         
      
        “You’re going to keep her here in this place until the blindness 
        wears off of the people?” Joe asked. “What if she escapes? 
        What if….”  
      
        “I’m not going to wait,” Chrístõ said. 
        “Any steps I deem necessary. That’s what the Chancellor said. 
        This is BENDING the Laws of Time, but we’re going to skip a couple 
        of days. Hext, take the drive control again. Joe, you take this and keep 
        it trained on her. Don’t worry, you can’t break it.” 
        He passed the sonic screwdriver to Joe. “It’s in welding mode,” 
        he told him. “But don’t try to weld her unless she tries anything 
        funny.” 
      
        “She hasn’t done anything funny for a long time,” Joe 
        answered.  
      
        “WHY did you do it?” Hext asked her. “That’s what 
        I don’t understand. Not… not what you did to me, but the whole 
        thing. The hurt you caused your own people.”  
      
        “Yes, that’s an interesting question,” Chrístõ 
        said. “I think you should answer it.”  
      
        “So they could not see me,” she answered. “I was blind 
        from birth. My parents, the king and queen before me, had the third eye 
        installed and that let me see, but I was a freak, stared at, pitied, not 
        admired as a princess.” 
      
        “So?” Chrístõ looked at her. She WAS still very 
        beautiful even with the strange eye. Even if she wasn’t, the explanation 
        was as shallow as it was possible to be.  
      
        “So, I made everyone else blind so that I could always be greater 
        than them. I made it a crime to look at me, except for my guards. And 
        they… They had their tongues cut out so they could not gossip about 
        me.”  
      
        “That’s insane,” Hext declared. “Totally insane. 
        She is mad.” 
      
        “That she is,” Chrístõ said. “But she 
        isn’t our problem.” He looked at the viewscreen. They were 
        in the city square. A great expanse in front of the royal palace. There 
        were hundreds of people there. The royal guards had been overwhelmed by 
        them already as they swarmed the palace. They saw some of them up on the 
        balcony of the palace above the wall, where Savine had addressed her people. 
        Any guards who put up a fight were being tossed off it into the crowd 
        below. What they did to them then was not pretty. The people had suffered 
        the bullying of the guards under Savine’s orders for too long. Their 
        vengeance was savage, but Chrístõ could hardly blame them. 
      
        Savine blanched as she saw her own fate clearly. She turned to her captors. 
         
      
        “Have pity,” she begged. “Don’t leave me with 
        those people. They will tear me apart.”  
      
        “Very likely they will,” Hext answered. “But that is 
        your just deserts for a wicked life and for the torture and barbarism 
        you practice.”  
      
        Chrístõ was very sure just how the people WOULD react as 
        soon as they showed Savine to them. Unlike Hext and even Joe, he didn’t 
        relish the prospect of her being lynched on the spot. He was wondering 
        if his idea was the best one. Could he REALLY toss her to the wolves, 
        because that was what it came down to. 
      
        “Chrístõ,” Hext told him. “This time it 
        really is nothing to do with us. Protecting war criminals from their own 
        victims is completely beyond our jurisdiction. We should just leave her 
        to her fate.”  
      
        “Joe…” He turned to the Ariclian. “What do you 
        think?”  
      
        “Leave her in my custody,” he said. “I will plead for 
        a fair trial and a quick and painless execution.”  
      
        “That’s about the best she can expect,” Hext pointed 
        out. “Principles are all very well. I recall you speaking passionately 
        against the death penalty in the Prydonian debating society. But this 
        woman is a monster who deserves all that is coming to her.”  
      
        “It still feels wrong to just abandon her.”  
      
        “Make a decision,” Hext told him. “Otherwise you ARE 
        just a weak, half-blood fool who lets emotions get in the way of what 
        needs to be done.”  
      
        It wasn’t the goading from Hext that made him decide. It wasn’t, 
        he told himself. But he took a length of rope from the cupboard and turned 
        to Joe and told him to bind her hands. Then he told Joe to go to the door 
        with her. He opened the door and he stepped out, pulling the deposed queen 
        along with him. They heard the voices suddenly raised in anger and outrage 
        before he shut the door.  
      
        “Ok,” he said. “I can slave your TARDIS to mine from 
        here and get us to the nearest space station. I’ll contact the Chancellor 
        and he can have somebody meet us there. They’ll look after you.” 
         
      
        Hext nodded miserably. He was blind again, of course, without Joe’s 
        eyes to look through. He had the prospect of a month or more of painful 
        recovery before he could see again, and a High Council investigation of 
        how he messed up his mission. But he, too, could not escape his fate. 
         
      
        “I will give a deposition to say that you co-operated with me, and 
        did what was required of you.” Chrístõ promised. “Coming 
        back to the palace after what Savine did to you took something approximating 
        courage. That should help to redeem you against the charges of cowardice. 
        But I think you should consider a nice, safe career in the civil service 
        from now on. You’re not cut out to be an agent, Hext.”  
      
        “Your victory is complete,” Hext answered bitterly. “You 
        have your revenge on me.”  
      
        “It was never about either of those things,” Chrístõ 
        told him. “I did my duty to Gallifrey, as requested by the Chancellor. 
        I did what I could for the Ariclians. I’m not happy with what we 
        did to Savine. Whatever you say about it, I’m not sure handing her 
        over like that was entirely moral. I have to live with that. I made the 
        decision.” 
      
        He knew he was NEVER going to feel easy about that decision. But deep 
        inside him he felt Li Tuo’s spirit telling him that there was no 
        other choice, that sometimes he had to walk in the grey shadows rather 
        than the pure light.  
      
        “Yes, Master Li,” he whispered. “But how long can I 
        do that before the darkness closes in?”  
      
        But that was a question he knew he could expect no answer to.  
        
       
      
       
      
      
      
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