From his makeshift control centre, Paul Neville, once the son of the mightiest planet-owners in the empire, is watching.

The palace is warm and the cloak he insists on wearing makes him even warmer.  He likes the discomfort.

The screens unroll the pictures of the Doctor and Romana's entrance.  Those children who think they are his guests welcome them in their way.

He feels a moment of unease.  Surely it isn't possible that Hopkins has found him.  He had been so careful, severed every link, right down to the pilot who had ferried them here, to Ashkellia.  That pilot and his ship were now part of the atmosphere of this fearsome planet; pieces of them anyway.  He doesn't need a starship now; he isn't going anywhere.  Is it possible he has overlooked some factor, some clue as to his trail?  No.  Impossible.  He has thought of everything.

He watches as Kampp slips away in grey monochrome to report to him, no doubt anxious to get on with the questioning of Pelham.  What happened down there?  He had barely been able to keep himself still when they found the tomb.  At last, after all those years.  He has to know, has to know what occurred.  And where these strangers have popped up from.

For a moment, Neville allows himself to think of the future.  Of the moment when, once again, the Dark One will return to this universe.  When he himself will become one with his master.  He thinks of the feeling of the cold vacuum of space rushing over him, of planets blotted out by his hand, Hopkins and his ilk screaming for ever, of the end of everything.  His work, his lifetime's work.  Yes, oh yes.

'Magus?' asks Kampp, fully aware of the folly of approachirq him at the wrong moment.  Neville unfolds his fists, balled inside his voluminous cloak.

'If it's... inconvenient...' Kampp purrs.

Neville swivels round in his padded chair.  He hopes his eyes glitter beneath his hood.

'Who are they?' he demands.

Kampp shakes his head, hands clasped languidly behind his back.  'I don't know.  Pelham picked them up down there.  The other two, including our man, are apparently dead.'

'What happened?'

'I was just on my way to ask Pelham.'  Kampp stifles a yawn.  'She seems... upset.'

'I have to know!  Every detail, no matter how trivial.  Can you do it?'

Kampp licks his lips.  'Oh yes, I can do it,' he says calmly.  His eyes flick towards the screens.  'And them?  Could they be the Protectorate?  It would be interesting to ask them.'

Neville considers.  'We shall find that out.  Let them reveal themselves.  I want them watched.  If it is Hopkins, they must not be allowed to contact him.'

'As you wish, Magus.'

'Go now, my servant.  Find out what happened.  Talk to Pelham.'

Kampp clicks his heels and bows.  'Mmm,' he says.


As for Romana, well, once the shock is over, she realises she is enjoying herself.  She is relieved that these strange young people dressed up in their animal heads are actually pleased to see them.  Nice to see the Doctor proved wrong for a change, no need for all that paranoia he carries around with him.

It seems that these people are guests at a masque, a dance.  The animal costumes are part of the fun.  She has had worse introductions... well, one worse introduction to the universe outside Gallifrey.