The TARDIS corridors just beyond the pool room suddenly echoed to a wild
male shout of surprise.  If anyone had been passing by at that moment, they
would also have heard quite a big splash.
   Inside the pool, Brian resurfaced, flailing and sputtering.
   "What the - what the hell!" he shouted, blinking rapidly.  The water was 
shockingly cold, and he automatically kicked his shoes off.
   A few moments later his vision finally cleared and his outrage focused on its 
proper target:  the grinning, tousle-haired figure who was standing on the pool's 
rim, leaning over to peer at him, hands braced on knees.
   This was too cold, too wet.  Too real.
   "What's the big idea?!" Brian shouted, in high dudgeon.
   The Doctor's grin widened.  "Welcome back to reality, Mr. Dempster!" he 
called.
   Brian floated, treading water.  He glanced incredulously around at the 
exspensive shoes that had just sunk to the bottom of the pool, his bedraggled 
clothing, his water-logged Swiss watch (which was not water-proof).  It was 
just all too ridiculous...
   He began to laugh.  A little, at first.  Then more.  Within seconds, he was 
laughing uncontrollably.  For a few moments the laughter took on a frantic 
quality, and the Doctor peered at him intently.  But the incipient hysteria soon 
passed, to the Time Lord's relief.
   Brian floated and laughed, his fit finally winding down to a few chuckles.  
He attempted to muster up his outrage again, with some difficulty.
   "What the hell were you thinking!" he exclaimed.  "I could've drowned!"
   "The former captain of the UCLA swim team?  I think not!"
   "Yeah, well, how'd you know-"  Brian paused, a strange look upon his face. 
"I've never met you before today - this is - this feels real," he concluded.  He
 began to swim over to the side of the pool opposite the Doctor.  "Look, I'm 
getting out," he said. "Don't push me in again, okay?"
   "I won't as long as you stop going on about how this is all just a dream."
   Pulling himself out of the water, Brian slumped down on the pool's edge, 
eyed the Doctor warily, and dripped.  He coughed a few times, and said hoarsely, 
"All right - I never had a dream that felt like this.  But you seriously expect 
me to believe all that stuff about being in some kind of space ship, flying around?  
I mean, come on!"  He waved a hand at his surroundings.  "Even if I believed 
in spaceships, which I don't, what would a pool be doing in one?"
   The Doctor tilted his head and eyed his drenched guest.  Progress was definitely 
being made; the lad was putting forth a reasonable argument instead of taking 
refuge in flat rejection.
   "I didn't call the TARDIS a 'space ship'," he reminded Brian mildly.  "You've 
labled it that because you have no other frame of reference."
   "So what is it, then?"
   The Doctor considered a moment, searching for a more accurate description his 
human companion could understand.  "A pocket dimension," he said finally, 
looking up again.  "Right now, you exist in a pocket between the dimensions 
you normally move through."
   Brian stared back at the man.  He could just about accept that he was actually 
awake, and in a strange, elegant building, trapped with someone who had their 
own version of reality but didn't seem too dangerous, but this?
   A 'pocket-dimension'?  The way he'd said it, as if it were the simplest thing in 
the world...
   The man in the green velvet coat standing at the pool's edge either was 
completely insane, or was telling the truth.
   Brian pushed his bedraggled wet hair off his forehead, then flapped his 
still-dripping hands in annoyance.  "What," he asked no one in particular, "am 
I doing here?"  He got gingerly to his feet, wincing at the feel of water-logged 
clothing, and began to move around the pool's edge, still keeping a wary eye 
on the Doctor, who had begun to stroll around to intercept him.
   "Literally or metaphysically?"
   Brian halted and stared narrowly at the Doctor for a moment.  "Literally," he 
replied shortly.
   "Oh, that's easy.  You're here to help me rescue Grace."
   "Oh, that's right," Brian muttered.  "You said some guy had kidnapped her..."  
He shook his head slightly.  "Look, why would anyone want to kidnap Grace?  
She doesn't have any enemies..."
   "She does now."
   Brian paused momentarily in realization.  "Because of you, you mean."  He 
lifted a hand, shaking an index finger at his host.  "You said she helped you...  
Wait a minute," he said abruptly.  "Are you the guy she was with at the ITAR 
party on New Year's Eve?"
   The Doctor shrugged.  "I needed a beryllium chip.  Still have it, in fact."
   Brian stared at him.  "I...remember," he said slowly.  "In the news the next 
day, they said the big fancy atomic clock they were unveiling wouldn't work, 
big snafu.  That was you?"
   The Doctor looked momentarily sheepish.  "Well, it was either that, or let the 
Earth go down the drain.  Literally."
   Brian's shoulders slumped.  "Oh, man..."
   His guest was fast approaching information over-load again, the Doctor 
realized - time for a break.  "You," he informed Brian, "look like a drowned 
rat.  Come on!"  He strode energetically out of the pool room.  Brian looked 
after him, shrugged, and followed.


The Doctor led him to yet another room.  This one contained clothing of all 
descriptions (and some that defied it).  His bizarre host then instructed him to 
help himself to whatever he needed to replace his current soaked outfit.
   "When you're done, return to the Console Room - the large room you were 
first in," the Doctor told him, before disappearing out the door.
   Brian searched around and found replacements reasonably similar to what he 
was wearing.  Getting into dry clothing made him feel vastly better.  Not sure 
what to do with his own wet clothing, he left it draped over a large standing 
mirror.  Going to the door, he stood, peering in both directions.  The Doctor 
had spoken as if it would be perfectly clear which way to go to return to that 
large Gothic room.
   It wasn't.  On impulse, he struck off to his left.  He'd gone a few meters when 
he slowed, feeling a sense of...wrongness.  It just didn't feel right to be 
going that way.
   He instinctively turned on his heel and started the other way.  Now he felt 
much better, and picked up his pace.  A few corridor twists and turns later, 
he turned a corner and found himself stepping through a doorway - into the 
'Console Room', as the Doctor had called it.
   He stood, looking around again, paying attention in a way he hadn't before 
his salutatory dunking.
   A room, a spaceship, a 'pocket-dimension'.  Take your pick.
   He looked up at the skyview.  A line of yellow spiralled through a starfield.  
He suddenly realized his mouth was hanging slightly open and shut it.
   The Doctor glanced up from the console.  "Excellent!" he exclaimed.  
Following the direction of Brian's gaze, he said, "That line represents the 
direction the Master's TARDIS has taken.  We are, of course, following them."
   "The Master?"
   "Yes."
   "He's the guy who took Grace?"
   "Correct," the Doctor said, while tending to some dials.
   Some of what he'd heard earlier was coming back to Brian.  "You said he 
wanted to kill me to get to Grace to ultimately get to you...?"
   The Doctor glanced up.  "Yes."
   "So that's them, flying.  And we're following them."
   "Yes."
   "Oh, God..."
   The Doctor regarded Brian sternly.  "Mr. Dempster, why is this so difficult 
for you?  I know it's a few years yet before Earth gets her first 'official' 
extraterrestrial contact, but did you really believe that the Earth was all alone 
in the universe?"
   Brian didn't have to think much for that one.  "Yes," he replied immediately, 
looking perturbed.
   The Doctor turned back to his tasks.  "Well, then you've gotten your perspectives 
broadened today."
   Brian stood and opened and shut his mouth several times, as he stared at the 
man leaning over part of the console.  If they really were flying around through 
space as the screen overhead indicated, then this Doctor guy had to be some type 
of alien.  He was standing a few yards away from some alien guy, and all this 
'Doctor' could say was 'you got your perspectives broadened today.'
   "You don't look like an alien," he blurted out.
   The Doctor glanced his way and smiled.  "Well, looks can be deceiving."
   Brian looked back gingerly.  "Nice place you've got here, ah, 'Doctor'," he 
said then, carefully.
   The Doctor regarded his guest thoughtfully.  "Brian, I need your help," he 
declared suddenly, motioning him over vigorously.
   Brian looked at him in surprise, but crossed over to stand at his host's side.
   "I need you to watch that," the Doctor told him, pointing to a screen on 
which a line oscillated.  "I need to know the instant the shape of that line changes, 
all right?  It's very important."
   Brian nodded.  "Sure - I'll keep an eye on it."
   Too busy to be scared, Brian Dempster stood, peering intently at the screen.  
It wasn't changing, and he soon grew restive.  "So, how'd you meet Grace, 
anyhow?" he wondered aloud.
   Unseen by Brian, the Doctor smiled in triumph.  "Oh!  That's a long story!  
Well, if you insist.
   "It all started on New Year's Eve eve..."


The first thing Grace noticed as she awoke was that the surface she was lying 
on was stony, and cold.
   The next was that someone had just kicked her.  Not that hard, just enough 
to get her attention.  Still, she woke up angry, sitting quickly up from where 
she'd been curled, her back to a wall.  Blinking in the dim lighting, she looked 
up at the figure bending over her.
   "Who," she said flatly, barely holding her temper in reign as she remembered 
where she was and how she had gotten there, "do you think you are?"
   He gazed down at her coldly.  "I am the Master," he told her.  And there was 
something in the way he said it; the assurance was utterly complete.  From anyone 
else, such a line probably would have sounded idiotically presumptuous.
   Not from him.
   It was how he saw himself, she realized.  It was who he was.
   Still, that didn't mean she had to buy into his reality.
   "Get up," he snapped.
   She hated the idea of being ordered around by this - this alien bully with the 
over-sized ego, but if it meant getting out of this poor excuse for a room...
   She slowly got to her feet.  "Walk," he ordered.  Out the open door she went, 
then down the corridor.  They were heading back to the Console Room, she 
guessed.  A minute later, they turned a corner and were there.
   She looked at the central console speculatingly.  Despite her earlier aversive 
experience, she found herself wondering if there were some way she could get 
to it to do some damage.  Perhaps with a pair of gloves on?
   Or she could always throw something.  She glanced around, looking for 
something suitable.  As she turned her head to the left, she twitched back in 
surprise.  The Master was right there, smirking at her.
   "Transparent," he said, contemptuously.  She blinked, and he said, "Your 
thoughts, Doctor.  A higly-trained 'professional' of your time..."  His sardonic 
expression made it clear what he thought of what was considered 'professional' 
on Earth.  "...and you're obviously wishing to inflict physical damage upon 
my TARDIS."  He shook his head scornfully.  "If you were capable of 
comprehending the reality of what a TARDIS truly is, you'd never have 
entertained the thought."
   She glared at him.  "So, what is it then?" she asked, hoping for some useful 
information.
   He ignored her question, striding over to the console to flick a switch, then 
returning to Grace's side.  "Let's go," he told her curtly.
   "If you think you can drag me in here and I'm going to just do everything 
you say," she snapped, moving quickly away, "then you've got another thing 
coming.  Being bait isn't on my CV."
   She glanced at his face and eyes, automatically looking for the cues an ordinary 
person would have given off as to their next move, and-
   He was suddenly right there in front of her, yanking her close.  Grabbing her 
by the shoulders, he glared directly into her terrified eyes.
   "No," he said suddenly, and she blinked, released.  "I want you to know 
what is going on, Doctor."  He smiled coldly at her.  "As for being bait, I think 
you'll find you're...a natural."
   He dragged her to the TARDIS doors, which opened at a touch, as they stepped 
out onto what Grace knew instinctively was an alien landscape.
   It was probably the yellow sky.
   Well, all right - the humanoid blue beings strolling about were a dead giveaway.





To be continued...








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