 hat had she got herself into this time.
Mr. Hasjat gave her an apologetic grin, followed by a look of total frustration and embarrassed defeat, through the bars that separated her from her liberty. Good grief! She must have seen more cells than a geneticist. Poor Jo!
The Master switched off the TV picture of the girl's predicament, and turned to the Doctor, who, following his capture had been recovering from the effects outside.
'How do I know that that really is Jo?' asked the Doctor 'I tell you, I left hr back at U.N.I.T. H.Q.'
'Tut, tut, tut!' the Master was going to enjoy defeating his opponent, even on this petty score.
'Well now, Doctor, I suppose there is a remote possibility that the young lady in the cells is really a Min Terr-ian who remarkably resembles our dear Miss Grant.'
Min Terr?! So this world of yellow skies and white sands was Min Terr! And what about Jo? The Doctor realised that the image of Jo on the TV screen could easily be Jo, as the Master said?
He tried to collect his thoughts, still suffering a little from the effects of the exposure on the outside. Min Terr! Indeed! What work of fate had brought him here? Chronologically, he had clearly arrived after his encounter with the Master in 15th Century Romania. But what was the Master up to? Why did he need the Doctor's help?
'Believe me, Doctor,' the Master continued in his uniquely malignant yet genuine-sounding soft tones, 'I do not wish to use Miss Grant's life as an incitement in this matter. You must join with me, Doctor, in this enterprise. We were very good friends, once...'
'Yes, I remember..." said the Doctor. The couple had been close friends indeed, united in a strong desire to further their own knowledge and experience of the Cosmos, although their individual reasons for such desire were as opposite as matter and Omega!
The Doctor did his best to stand firm. On the one hand, he loved Jo very much, and on the other, he could not allow himself to be blackmailed into working with the Master in some diabolical scheme. At times like these, he realised how the likes of the Master could find it so easy to reject love and comradeship, and to adopt instead single-mindedness and self-interest.
The Master then produced a selection of charts, illustrations, and blue-prints which aptly described the nature of this "enterprise" which he was about. The Doctor was absolutely appalled; in fact, he was speechless.
'Believe me, Doctor,' the Master appealed, most convincingly, 'even if I wished, I could not abandon this plan. You cannot yet comprehend the circumstances.'
The Master's tone betrayed his anxiety. The Doctor studied his enemy's imperturbable features.
'Guards!' snapped the Master, hoping not to give anything away, 'Take the Doctor to the cells and let him meet his young friend face-to-face.'
As the Doctor was being led away, the Master strode towards a banal of electrical equipment in one corner of the room. An octagonal blue screen was illuminated with the flick of a switch. A pulsating white dot advanced across the screen towards the very centre of the octagon. They were coming. Perhaps he could pull it off even without the Doctor's help. Besides - the Doctor and Miss Grant could still be useful in other ways...
 he Doctor looked at Jo reproachfully. Ironic - it had been his recent desire to leave planet Earth which now placed him in a position where the life of his companion would most likely be used to persuade him to aid the Master in that planet's annihilation.
Meanwhile, Mr. Hasjat had been going on for some time about how out of character the Master's behaviour had been in throwing the couple in the cells; well particularly in imprisoning Jo - Hasjat wasn't sure about her friend. No - he didn't like the Doctor's eyes - real murderous villains eyes, they were...cold...ruthless...cunning...
The Doctor's eyebrows sprang upwards in disbelief as Hasjat continued his discourse on the Master's usual affability.
'I laugh just to think of some of the things 'e does. 'E 'as me in stitches, sometimes. Look, look, look. Look at this. See this gun? 'E gave it to me for me thirty-f..f..f...me birthday a few years ago. It 'as me initials on it. Isn't that nice?'
Jo looked at the Doctor, he was not known to suffer fools gladly. From what he had told her, her Time Lord friend had found it difficult to restrain (and consequently, retain) his tongue in the company of everyone from Julius Caesar to the Sun King; he was certainly not going to tolerate Hasjat's harangue!
 
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