Bilton and Scobie were now hopelessly engorged in the trembling matter, like solids digesting in the gut of an animal. Then, as swiftly as it had come, the huge globule rose up and was gone.
Bilton and Scobie had disappeared.
'Sheraz, sheraz, tumal baloor ...' The thin, strangulated voice that chanted these arcane words could have been that of a muezzin summoning the faithful to prayer. But it was no holy man who stood before the great crystal ball in the sombre heart of the Citadel that the Doctor and Tegan had seen on the horizon, and the power that Kalid called forth was as dark as the granite walls of the chamber where he practised his magic arts.
The Doctor was right to fear such a man as this; for Kalid was no ordinary conjuror.
He was no ordinary man either, with his yellow oriental face, bloated like the body of a drowned dog and gangrenous with age and excess, with broken teeth and rotting gums that contorted his mouth into a permanent leer. His height too, for a Chinaman - if that was his race -
was remarkable, and his girth, concealed by a bright coat of damask, as monstrous as the force he invoked.
'Sheraz, sheraz, tumaal ...' Kalid called again and the crystal clouded. He gazed in the swirling mists and saw the Doctor and Tegan wandering back from the ruined spaceship. He was pleased with the power at his command. He could see ail things; and all things obeyed his will.
'Verram, verram, xeraak namaan ...' He would show his power to this Doctor.
The Doctor meanwhile, had returned to a very frightened Captain Stapley.
'Those creatures!' The Captain had no words to describe the emanations that he had seen spirit away his two crew members. 'They just took off with Bilton and Scobie!'
The Doctor's first thought was that Stapley had been hallucinating again. But Nyssa, who was much less susceptible, was as upset as the Captain by what had just happened.
If any doubt remained in the Doctor's mind as to the reality of what Captain Stapley and Nyssa had just witnessed, it was about to be dispelled.
As the voice of Kalid echoed in the darkness of the Citadel, another cloud appeared. The Doctor saw the horror on the faces of Tegan and the Captain. 'Behind you, Doctor!' hissed Stapley. The Doctor had no time even to turn and face the horrid eviscerations that had formed behind him. He was instantly absorbed into the shapeless mass.
The Doctor felt like a drowning man who has gone under for the third time. He knew there was no point in struggling. In fact, there was a strange calm at the centre of the agglomeration.
He could hear a murmuring, like the distant roar of the sea in a conch shell. It was almost as if a giant had woken from a deep sleep and was trying to whisper some great confidence. Was it his imagination, or could he hear someone or something calling out to him? 'Doctor ...
Doctor ... Help ... Help!'
There was no doubt about it. Some unknown intelligence was trying to communicate.
'Help us, Doctor!' The voice was growing stronger and more desperate.
'Beware ... beware the renegade! Help!' The voice grew incoherent as if terrified at its own revelation.
'Stop!'
Captain Stapley and Tegan turned from their efforts to free the Doctor to face Nyssa who was watching their exertions with a faraway look on her face.
'You mustn't fight it!' Although she couldn't herself hear the distant voices, she just knew the Doctor wasn't in danger.
And in the Citadel, Kalid, who saw everything in the crystal sphere, knew that he must release the Doctor before the voices betrayed him.
'Evaneragh!' he cried out.
'What's happening now?' Tegan could suddenly see the shadow of the Doctor inside the cocoon.
As quickly as it had materialised, the substance dissolved and evaporated, leaving the Doctor, looking rather surprised, on the ground.
Stapley rushed forward to help him. The Doctor smiled reassuringly.
'Captain Stapley, are you all right?'
'Am I all right!' The Captain was amazed at the sheer nerve of the man.
The Doctor got to his feet and dusted himself down.
'Those were the creatures that got hold of Bilton and Scobie!'
'What creatures?'
'Those blobs!'
'You mean the Plasmatons?'
'Is that what you call them?'
'Protein agglomeration.' The Doctor was casually matter of fact.
'Random particles assembled from the atmosphere. Quite inanimate I assure you.'
Captain Stapley had twice, now, seen the Plasmatons, and in his opinion they were highly animate. He considered the Doctor's eccentric explanation dangerously inadequate. 'But, Doctor,' he protested,
'there's no technique that could create matter like that, out of thin air!'
'Isn't there?' The Doctor instantly countered his objection. 'What about the energy that telepathically generated the illusion we were at Heathrow! Do you think that can't operate on a physical level?'
Captain Stapley shook his head and wondered for a moment if he was in a madhouse.
'Doctor!' Nyssa interrupted. She had something far more serious to recount than a visit from the Plasmatons. But no one was listening.
'Simply a form of psychokinesis,' the Doctor continued.
'You mean that spoon-bending nonsense?'
'Doctor!' Nyssa tried once more to prise into their conversation. 'Those people were taking away the TARDIS!'
The Doctor's shock at the theft of the TARDIS was equalled only by Kalid's joy as the great box was trundled into his chamber by the impressed workforce of airline passengers that Nyssa and Stapley had spotted leaving the Concorde.
'You have your work. Go to it!' Kalid dismissed his labourers.
As the bemused business executives and cabin staff wandered out of the chamber, Kalid moved eagerly towards the TARDIS. He had seen it before in the crystal and longed for the moment when it would be his.
He stretched out a jaundiced hand to the door.
It was locked.
'Didn't you even bother to see where they were taking it?' The Doctor was appalled they had let the TARDIS be removed so easily.
Rather unreasonable of him, thought Stapley, seeing how Bilton and Scobie had weighed in, only to be abducted by those Plasmaton things.
But Nyssa and Tegan understood the Doctor's concern only too well.
Without the TARDIS they were stranded.
They were not, however, alone.
A man was running behind a line of rocks on the high ground above where Captain Stapley, Tegan, Nyssa and the Doctor were discussing what to do next. He dropped to his knees behind the cover of a large boulder, breathing heavily. Such exertion did not come easily to a man of his years. After a few moments he gan to get his breath back. He brushed at the mud on is tweed suit and hauled himself up to a position from where he could observe the people in the valley below him. There were four of them. They didn't seem familiar from the New York flight.
But one of them was in uniform. Plenty of gold braid. A pilot perhaps from the second aircraft he had just seen. He resisted the impulse to join them immediately; they too might be contaminated. But he couldn't survive, let alone escape from this place, on his own. He would have to make contact.
'Hey!'
The Doctor and his companions looked towards the skyline from where a rather distinguished, bearded figure was walking slowly towards them.
Not a word was spoken until the newcomer was within a few yards of Captain Stanley.
'Are you from the other Concorde?' The man spoke warily.
'Captain Stapley, British Airways.' Stapley held out his hand.
The stranger continued to regard them with deep suspicion. 'Professor Hayter, University of Darlington.' He grudgingly offered the information like a card player forced to reveal his hand.
'You must be from 192! Where are all the other passengers? What happened to you?'
Professor Hayter was reassured by the Captain's brisk questioning.
'You're not hallucinating?' He sounded desperately hopeful.
'Certainly not.'
The Professor relaxed. 'You've no idea what it's been like resisting alone.'
He turned his attention to the Doctor and the two girls. What was Captain Stapley doing with such an unlikely rescue party!
The Doctor guessed what he was thinking. 'Don't worry, you're not imagining us.' He introduced the others.
Professor Hayter nodded. He still didn't know what to make of them.
Captain Stapley appreciated how he must feel about this improbable trio. He quickly explained how, if it hadn't been for the Doctor, they would never, have tracked down the missing Concorde.
Hayter found this hard to believe, but at least help, in some form, had got through. 'How did the Russians let you land?' he asked eagerly.
'The Russians?' The Captain had no idea what the Professor was talking about.
'Aren't we beyond the Iron Curtain?'
Stapley wished they really were in the USSR. It would be far easier to escape from the Soviet Union than from the far end of a time contour.
'This must be Siberia,' the old man insisted.
'Well, not exactly.'
They would have a hard time explaining the truth to Professor Hayter.
Kalid turned from the crystal sphere. The Plasmaton mass had entered his chamber. The organic shroud dissolved and dispersed, revealing Bilton and Scobie.
'You will return to your work.' Kalid studied their reaction to his command. Thanks to the interference of the Doctor, these two men had learned to resist the illusions.
The copilot and engineer began to walk somnambulantly from the chamber. Kalid smiled; all was well. They had forgotten all the Doctor's advice.
Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, Bilton caught sight of the TARDIS.
Something stirred in his memory. He moved across to the police box.
'TARDIS
... TARDIS ...' The word sprang from some far recess of his mind. What it meant he had no idea. 'TARDIS?' But that was just an old police box.
And then he remembered the Doctor. Of course! The TARDIS! He became aware of the dark, cold room, from the corner of which a shadowy figure was watching his every move. 'Rope!' He remembered something else. 'Rope trick!' That was it. It all came flooding back. He had been hallucinating again.
'Ram sharaa, Inoora xuror,' Kalid began to chant. The young officer could not be allowed to resist the power.
Bilton felt himself losing his momentary hold on reality. He felt dizzy and anxious.
Then he felt perfectly well again. It was a normal day at Heathrow.
'You will return to your work.' Kalid spoke once more.
'Speedbird Concorde 193, clear for takeoff.' A normal working day, and Andrew Bilton was flying to New York ...
The Doctor was impressed by Professor Hayter's ability to resist the perceptual induction. His resilience was soon accounted for.
'Hypnosis is my special subject at Darlington,' Hayter explained. 'So I was able to contra-suggest.'
Alone among the passengers of the crew of the first Concorde to slip into the time contour, the Professor had been aware that they were the focus of a powerful hallucinogenic force, although even he had momentarily lost consciousness during what he still insisted on calling
'the hi-jack'. But the old man had
obviously had quite a battle to keep control of his own mind.
'Hyperstimulation of eidetic images,' he explained. 'The most powerful hallucinatory induction I've ever come across. They must be using ultrasonics.'
'Who are they?' the Doctor interrupted.
'I don't know. Even the guards are disguised.'
'The guards? You mean the Plasmatons?'
'The what?'
'Never mind,' said the Doctor. There was no time for explanations, particularly with a man like Professor Hayter. That was the trouble with scientists; they were so narrow-minded. For the moment the Doctor needed Hayter to show him where his fellow passengers had been taken.
The Professor was most reluctant to return to the prison from which he had just escaped.
'You're not serious,' he protested, as the Doctor outlined his plan.
'Hayter, I've got to find my crew and the crew and passengers from 192,' insisted Captain Stapley. He sympathised with the old man's fears, but he had a duty to make sure everyone escaped.
'And I've got to find the TARDIS,' added the Doctor.
'TARDIS?' It was not a word in Professor Hayter's vocabulary.
The Doctor did not elucidate. A discussion with the Professor on time and relativity would get them nowhere.
Tegan, as usual, was less discreet. 'Without the TARDIS we'll never get back to the twentieth century,' she blurted out.
'What did you say?' The scientist from Darlington reacted with depressing predictability.
Before the Doctor could change the subject, Nyssa had chipped in.