Sheri was woken from a dream of home by a shout from downstairs.
"Breakfast in fifteen minutes," called the Doctor.
Sheri yawned and stretched as she padded over to the window in her bare feet. The sun was bright and welcoming when she drew back the curtains. The birds were singing and all was right with the Universe.
It was the Summer of 1994 on Earth. The Doctor had brought them here to relax after a number of stressful adventures.
'Here' was his house in Kent, though house was probably too small a word for it. It had East and West wings, more bedrooms than some hotels Sheri had stayed in and extensive grounds and outbuildings. The Doctor said he had owned the house for some time, though she didn't know how long that was.
As she showered, she could smell bacon frying downstairs. The Doctor was an excellent, if occasionally eccentric cook and she had become used to his full English breakfasts in their week here.
Showered and dressed, she walked into the kitchen, to find him cracking eggs with one hand and making tea with the other. He grinned at her over his shoulder.
"Morning. Sleep well?"
"Very well, as usual," Sheri replied. "Is it worth me asking the same?" She knew the Time Lord didn't need as much sleep as a mere human.
"I had a ten minute doze in front of the fire," he told her, talking as if it were ten hours of dreamless slumber.
Breakfast was served on the large kitchen table. Sheri chose a newspaper from the pile of freshly delivered ones on the nearby counter top. She left the Doctor his copy of The Times, already turned to the crossword page.
They ate in silence, each absorbed in their study of the papers. As she was finishing her mushrooms, an advert caught Sheri's eye.
"You did say it was 1994, didn't you?" she asked him across the table.
He looked up. "Yes. Why?"
She showed him the advert. He frowned as he studied it intently.
" 'For cheap pre-paid mobile phones, there is only one choice. Melco-Phone. The best for less'. Well, that is strange."
"I didn't think pre-paid got popular for a few years yet. At least they didn't in Canada."
The Doctor nodded. "Same in Britain, except probably a year or so after your country. Someone is trying to flood the market with cheap mobile phones. I wonder why?"
As he mused, the normal phone rang in the hallway. Still thinking, he went to answer it.
"Hello? Yes, Colonel, it is. How are you? Good. I didn't think it was a social call. Yes, we were just talking about them. You have? We'll be right there. Goodbye."
The Doctor walked back into the kitchen, hands thrust deep into the pockets of his grey flannels.
"Trouble?" Sheri asked, already knowing the answer from his expression.
"Yes. That was Colonel Crichton at UNIT. It seems we were right to be suspicious of Melco-Phone." He grabbed a half-eaten slice of toast. "Come on, Sheri, we're needed."
***
One of the outbuildings was a three-car garage, which housed an orange Volkswagen Beetle, some kind of futuristic hover car and a canary yellow vintage model. The Doctor headed for the latter.
"I thought we were in a hurry," Sheri said, pausing by the futuristic vehicle.
The Doctor grinned. "Bessie is quicker than you might expect," he told her, settling into the drivers seat.
Shrugging, she joined him. He had produced a small disc from a pocket, which he fitted into the centre of the steering wheel. He pressed a button on the disc and the engine roared into life.
"Overdrive," he explained, putting Bessie into gear. The little car shot forward, the garage doors parting automatically, barely in time to let them out.
Sheri opened her eyes before she realised she had closed them in the first place. She wished she hadn't, as the wrought iron gates at the end of the drive hurtled towards them. As she opened her mouth to shout a warning, these parted also, letting them out onto Allen Road.
The Doctor swung the wheel, turning left out of the driveway and roaring off down the country lane. Sheri hung on to the seat, afraid to let go.
"I love a relaxing drive in the country," the Doctor shouted above the noise of the wind. He was grinning from ear to ear, his chestnut curls streaming out behind him.
Sheri gritted her teeth as he cornered at speed. She would be happy to arrive in one piece.
***
Bessie skidded to a halt in a spray of gravel outside an old country house, much like the one the Doctor owned.
The Doctor bounded out, as full of energy as ever. "UNIT HQ. I've not been here for a while." He frowned. "Or should I say I won't be here for a while?" He sighed. "Time travel plays funny games with syntax."
Sheri just nodded. She was climbing carefully out of the car, her legs still wobbly from their last near miss.
"Come along, slowcoach," the Doctor called from the top of the front steps. Sheri hurried after her friend.
Inside, there was a small reception area, with a desk in front of them. Behind the desk was a man dressed in army uniform.
The Doctor strode up to the desk as if he owned the building. "Good morning. I'm the Doctor. Colonel Crichton is expecting me."
"One moment, sir," the soldier said. He lifted the phone and spoke softly into it. A pause while he was answered, then he put the phone down again.
"Colonel Crichton will see you now, sir," he said. "The door on the left."
The Doctor grinned. "Thank you. Carry on, Sergeant." He turned to Sheri as they walked away from the desk. "I've always wanted to say that!"
He breezed into Crichton's office, Sheri in his wake. The Colonel stood up from behind his desk, a slightly surprised look on his face.
"Doctor?" he asked, peering at the Time Lord.
"Charles!" the Doctor greeted the Colonel, shaking him by the hand. "It's nice to see you again. This is my friend, Sheri, by the way."
Crichton was still gaping at the Doctor. "You've changed. Alistair warned me about it, and I did meet the little chap with the big coat, but it is a little disconcerting."
The Doctor smiled. "Not half as disconcerting as waking up with a new face. Now, about these phones."
Crichton frowned. "I think they could be specially designed to kill people!"
"Really?" the Doctor said, fascinated. "Tell me more."
"Well, we've had reports at other branches world-wide. So far there have been nine deaths in seven different countries. No obvious cause of death. The post mortem gave the causes as radiation poisoning. All had their mobile phones clutched in their hands."
"And all were Melco-Phones," the Doctor finished.
"Correct, Doctor. Who knows how many other cases have gone unreported."
The Doctor thought for a moment. "Do you have a Melco-Phone handy?"
Crichton nodded. "Doctor Edwards has one in the laboratory."
"How is Amanda?" the Doctor asked with a smile.
"Under pressure. It was her that suggested I call the house, hoping you were in."
"You were lucky we were there on holiday," the Doctor told him. "Now, I think it's time we saw that phone."
***
Doctor Amanda Edwards was staring at a mobile phone when they entered the laboratory. Her face brightened when she saw the Doctor.
"Doctor?" she asked. He nodded. "Well, this is an improvement on the multi-coloured version, I must say."
"Thank you, and it's good to see you too." He grinned. "This is my friend, Sheri."
The two women shook hands. Meanwhile, the Doctor was looking at the phone on the lab bench. He produced a jeweller's eyeglass from a pocket and studied the keypad.
"Hmm. Nothing obvious. Do you have a small tool kit?"
"Of course," she said, reaching into a drawer and handing him a small pouch.
The Doctor used the kit to open the phone up. Inside were a number of microchips. The Doctor used the eyeglass again, tracing the chips and wires.
He stood back from the bench. He dropped the eyeglass into his hand and returned it to his pocket.
"Anything, Doctor?" Crichton asked.
The Time Lord nodded. "There is a chip that's not part of the phone. It is programmed to deliver an electro-magnetic pulse directly to the brain."
"So these things are being used to kill."
"No, not at all," the Doctor replied. "The deaths were accidents, probably caused by faulty chips."
"Then what are they for?" asked Doctor Edwards.
"Something far more sinister. They are mind control devices. Probably the vanguard of an invasion attempt."
"Who do you suppose this invasion force could be?" asked Crichton. "Not the Autons again?"
The Doctor shook his head. "No, I think the Autons were well and truly beaten last time. This is something else. An invasion by stealth."
"Any candidates leap to mind?" Sheri inquired.
The Doctor looked grim. "Far too many, I'm afraid. Charles, what do you know about Melco-Phone?"
"I have a file on them in my office, Doctor."
"Good man. I think this time we'll need all the intelligence we can get."
***
The four of them returned to Crichton's office. He produced a manila folder and handed it to the Doctor, who read it quickly. Sheri stood at his shoulder.
The Doctor paused over a photograph. It showed a tall man in a dark business suit. He had receding dark hair, a moustache and beard. He looked like a man used to getting his own way.
"Who's that?" Sheri asked, peering at the photo.
"Anthony Long, chief executive of Melco-Phone." The Doctor lingered over the photo, seemingly lost in thought.
"Have you found something?" Doctor Edwards asked.
Snapped out of his reverie, the Doctor looked up. "No, not really. Mister Long reminds me of someone. I just can't place who."
"Well, Doctor, what's the plan?" Crichton wanted to know when the Doctor handed him back the folder.
"I think we need to look around the headquarters building, see if we can find any clues."
Crichton frowned. "I'm not sure I can get the authority for a military inspection. We have no real grounds."
The Doctor grinned suddenly. "Then we go with Plan B." He put an arm around the shoulders of Sheri and Amanda Edwards. "We go in as health and safety inspectors."
***
Melco-Phone didn't have a factory in the British Isles, but they did have a distribution centre. It was a large dockside warehouse with a staff car park outside. The Doctor brought Bessie to a graceful halt in a parking bay.
"I'd forgotten how fast he drives," Amanda Edwards said quietly to Sheri as they got out. The scientist had changed out of her white lab coat, into her civilian clothes.
"You get used to it," Sheri replied casually.
The Doctor led them to a main door, which brought them into a small reception area. The receptionist glanced up at them.
"Can I help you?" she asked in a mildly disapproving tone, as she looked the Doctor up and down.
He favoured her with a dazzling smile. "Yes, I'm sure you can. I'm the Doctor and these ladies are my colleagues, Sheri Whitehead and Amanda Edwards. We're here to conduct an inspection on behalf of the Health and Safety Executive."
The receptionist consulted her diary. "We weren't expecting you," she told him, confused.
"Nobody expects the Health and Safety Executive," the Doctor said with a slight smile. "Now, where shall we begin?"
***
In an office, the encounter between the Doctor and the receptionist was being watched on a TV screen. The taller, furrier of the two watchers turned to its colleague.
"Is this likely to be a problem?"
"Not at all," said the man with the receding hair, smiling. "Not now the Doctor has walked into our trap!"
***
The Doctor's conversation was also being monitored in the back of a white van parked round the corner from the warehouse. Colonel Crichton, Captain Andrew Collins and Joanne Carr, Doctor Edwards assistant, sat around the radio set, listening. Another van, parked behind them, held a small squad of half a dozen soldiers.
"Shall I put the men on standby, sir?" asked Collins.
Crichton shook his head. "We need more information first," the senior soldier decided.
***
The Doctor's party was met by a small, balding man in a dark suit.
"Oh," the Doctor said, obviously disappointed. "I was hoping to meet Mister Long."
The man introduced himself as Malcolm Hodge, head of distribution, and explained that Mister Long was in an urgent meeting.
The main part of the building was the storage area, stacked high with mobile phones. They were in crates of fifty, the crates piled five high. The Doctor made a great show of checking everything, from the size of the packing crates to the type of soap in the staff toilets.
The tour ended outside an office, it's shutters closed from the inside.
"Well, thank you so much, Mister Hodge. You've been a great help," the Doctor said.
"I have?" Hodge replied, surprised.
The Doctor grinned. "Not really, but I was being polite. That's a nice pen you have there." The Doctor was referring to the ballpoint pen visible in Hodge's top pocket. It was the same as one in the top pocket of the receptionist's jacket.
Hodge seemed suddenly flustered. The Doctor took full advantage.
"May I?" he inquired, plucking the pen from its position. Hodge blanched.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then Hodge blurred and changed. In his place stood a seven foot high alien. It had brown fur, a long snout and large fangs. It glowered at them.
Sheri and Amanda Edwards both gasped with shock. "Do you recognise it, Doctor?" asked Doctor Edwards quietly.
The Doctor nodded, studying the alien. "A Melcotian. Not a total surprise."
"Do you think it will attack?" Sheri wanted to know. The alien was looking at them menacingly, but seemed to be waiting for something.
"No," the Doctor replied. "Not straight away. I think Mister Hodge here isn't the brains behind all this. There is a controlling intelligence at work."
"Very good, Doctor. Very astute."
The Doctor and his friends turned at the sound of the new voice. The office door behind them had opened. In the doorway stood a tall man with receding hair. Sheri and Amanda recognised him from his photo as Anthony Long. The Doctor, however, recognised him as someone else.
"I wondered when we would meet again after Gallifrey," the Doctor commented. "I see you've regenerated since you stole Yarkja's body."
"Trust you, Doctor, to know the name of an insignificant guard," the Master said. "It's such a shame our paths have crossed for the last time." Then he threw back his head and laughed.
"You know him?" Sheri asked as the Master chuckled.
The Doctor looked grim. "Once we were friends, a long time ago. Then he chose the path of evil. He likes to be called the Master."
The Master grinned. "Welcome to my new enterprise, Doctor. Welcome to the future. Welcome to the new rulers of Earth!"
***
Out in the van, Colonel Crichton had heard enough. "Captain Collins, mobilise the troops and move them into position. Await my order to enter the building."
"Sir," Collins replied, snapping off a smart salute and leaving the van.
"Do you think they'll be alright, sir?" asked Joanna Carr.
"Only one way to find out," Crichton said, leaving the van to lead his men into battle.
***
"New rulers?" the Doctor echoed. "The Melcotians? For someone who has allied himself with the Daleks and the Nestene Consciousness in the past, this is a bit of a comedown."
The Hodge alien growled deep in its throat.
"Maybe you shouldn't antagonise them," cautioned Amanda Edwards.
The Doctor ignored the advice. "Let's face it, as an invasion force they are a bit pathetic. How many do you have here? Two? Three?"
"There are five Melcotians currently in the building. More than enough to deal with you and your companions."
"True," the Doctor said. "That's fine, so long as the three of us are all you have to contend with."
For the first time, the Master's confidence slipped. "What do you mean, Doctor?"
The Doctor was consulting his pocket watch. "Well, the cavalry should be arriving any time...now!"
At that moment, there was a sound of splintering wood as the main door was kicked in. Running booted feet and shouting sounded from the reception area.
The Doctor grinned at the Master and his henchman. "Right on time!"
The Master cursed. "Grend, fall back," he commanded. The Melcotian moved towards the office, as did other members of staff.
Colonel Crichton and his squad burst through from the reception area, the receptionist held at gunpoint.
In response, the Master pulled his Tissue Compression Eliminator and aimed at the advancing soldiers.
"Release the woman," the Doctor called to Crichton. "Hold your fire."
Crichton did as the Doctor asked. The receptionist joined the others in the office. The Master backed away from them, the TCE levelled at the Doctor.
"This isn't over, Doctor," the Master growled. Then he smiled. "Unless, of course, I do this."
He fired at the Doctor.
Anticipating the shot, the Doctor dodged, taking Sheri and Amanda down with him.
A gunshot rang out in the warehouse. The Doctor looked up from the floor to see the Master clutching his shoulder.
"Cease fire!" the Doctor shouted. He watched as the Master backed into the office and slammed the door.
Crichton came over to the Doctor and his friends. "Are you alright?"
The Doctor checked with Sheri and Amanda, who both gave him an affirmation. The Doctor stood, helping them up.
"We're fine, Colonel."
"And what about the Master? He can't get away."
"Don't you believe it," the Time Lord said, nodding towards the closed office door.
From behind the door came a familiar wheezing groaning sound. Sheri looked at the Doctor.
The Doctor shrugged. "I'm sure I'll be seeing him again. One way or another."
***
The Doctor was frying fish and chips in his kitchen. Around the table were Sheri, Amanda Edwards and Colonel Charles Crichton.
"So what will we do with all the Melco-Phones in the warehouse and around the world?" Crichton asked.
The Doctor half turned. "I'll give you a simple computer code. Transmit it from an orbital satellite and it will disable the mind control chips. The phones will work as normal."
"And the Melcotians?" Amanda inquired.
The Doctor turned the fish in the pan. "They are small players on the Galactic stage. I'm a little surprised they got involved in something so ambitious. The Master must have talked them into it."
Crichton sighed. "I wish we could have caught him, this time."
"Don't worry," the Doctor said over his shoulder. "Alistair and I caught him once. But even we couldn't keep him for long."
"And you think he's out there, somewhere, waiting for a rematch?" Sheri asked him.
"I'm sure of it," the Doctor said, serving the meal to his three guests. He smiled at them. "Now, who's for vinegar?"
