Jo didn't know much about boxing, but she couldn't help noticing the differences in styles.  Andrews moved forwards in a crouch, shoulders hunched, chin tucked in, fists weaving protectively in front of him.  He spoke through gritted teeth.  'I think I ought to warn you, I used to box for my school.'

The Doctor's stance was straight-backed and upright, right hand protecting his chin, left arm stretched out full-length.  He moved with brisk skipping steps.  'And I should warn you, I used to spar with John L. Sullivan!'

The fight was short and savage.  The two men came together in a flurry of blows.  Jo saw the Doctor dodge, and block Andrews's punches with careless ease.  The Doctor's long left arm shot out and his fist caught Andrews on the cheekbone, then again on the nose.  Stung by the two painful blows Andrews swung a wild right uppercut at the Doctor's chin.  The Doctor dodged it with ease and sunk a savage right hook into the younger man's solar plexus.

Air whooshed from Andrews's body, his face went grey and he collapsed like a leaking balloon, slumping slowly to the ground.

Jo saw the Doctor's face change...  He leaned over his fallen opponent, appalled at what he had done, and was about to help him to his feet.  Jo looked round.  Clare, Major Daly, the two sailors, all were staring open-mouthed at the gasping Andrews.  She grabbed the Doctor's coat from a chair.  'Hurry, Doctor, this way!'  The Doctor's stared wildly at her.  Jo grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the saloon.

They started to run towards Daly's cabin but another armed seaman appeared at the end of the passage.  They turned and ran the opposite way, out on to the deck of the ship.

In the saloon Andrews was struggling to his feet.  He grabbed his rifle and turned to the seamen.  'Get after them.  Cover the aft companionway!  Quick, man!  Shoot on sight!'  They all ran from the saloon.

Major Daly and Clare followed after them. 'Don't want to miss the fun, do we?' puffed Daly, as he hurried along.

Hidden behind a lifeboat Jo watched the Doctor get back into his coat.  'Extraordinary,' he was muttering.  'Remote control aggression-stimulation.  Felt it myself, till I realised what was happening.  I shouldn't have hit that poor young fellow so hard.'

There was a shout of 'There they are! '  The crack of a rifle and a bullet whined close to them.

'Never mind him, Doctor,' said Jo.  'You worry about us!'