The Talking Stones of Tyron, scene 2

Barbara couldn't help getting irritated at the way Vicki kept on about her pet theory. She had to admit there were strange things going on, and maybe there was some kind of malign psychic influence at work, affecting the Doctor's judgement and making Ian step in poisoned leaves or something. It wouldn't be the first time! But their focus had to be on saving Ian. Still, she was sorry she snapped at the girl.

When they got back to the TARDIS, Barbara headed straight for the place she had last seen the bio-analyser. She felt a chill as she saw the empty space on the shelf.

"Vicki, it's not here! The bio-analyser's missing!"

"Hm? Oh, the Doctor's been using it in an experiment. He was showing me some of the results yesterday; I know where it is." She trotted off down the corridor.

Barbara felt a twinge of jealousy. Oh, the girl was young, inexperienced - naïve, even - but she knew so much more about future technology. Not as much as the Doctor, of course, but then who did? She had struck up a rapport with the old man almost instantly; his betrayal by the lake had obviously hit her hard. Barbara needed to be a little more understanding. It wouldn't help Ian to hurt the girl further.

While Vicki was gone she busied herself collecting a few medical supplies, just in case - and especially gloves, since it would do no good for them to get poisoned while treating Ian. She was triple-checking the kit when she heard Vicki call.

"Ooh, give me a hand with this, Barbara, it's heavy!" she saw the girl staggering along with the analyser. It was portable but bulky, and Vicki was barely coping on her own. Barbara rushed to help, and together they manhandled it out of the TARDIS. Barbara took most of the weight as they set off back to Ian; she was frustrated at how slow they were. Would he still be alive when they got there? Please let it be so!

After about ten minutes Vicki suddenly stopped. "Oh, no!" she exclaimed.

"Vicki, what's wrong?"

"We forgot the synthesiser unit! Without it we can diagnose the problem, but we can't produce an antitoxin!" She looked into Barbara's eyes. "Can you manage it on your own? Just for a bit?"

Barbara smiled, encouragingly. "Don't worry about me. I'll cope." Inside, her heart sank at the prospect of trying to carry the analyser through the long grass without help, but if she had to do it then she would.

"Right. I'll fetch the unit and catch you up." Vicki hurried back towards the ship. Barbara picked up the analyser again, and set off as fast as she dared in the opposite direction.

It wasn't long before her back and arms were aching. She had to pause frequently, and each time she looked behind her, with hope; but there was no sign of Vicki. After about a quarter of an hour Barbara simply had to take a proper break. There was a stone nearby, so she carefully put down the analyser and leaned on it, working out the kinks. Something was niggling at the back of her mind; but she was so tired, too tired to focus. Then, as she sank down, she realised what it was: both the Doctor and Ian, when she had last seen them, had been lying against one of the stones. As she was now. She started, but couldn't make herself get up; so she tried to call to Vicki, but what she said wasn't what she'd meant.

"That's three." It was hurried, urgent, oddly pronounced; and she realised it had the same intonation as if she had actually called Vicki's name, as she had intended. It sounded like...

It sounded like Ian. Ian, when he had been lying there, slumped against the stone, speaking so strangely. Barbara cursed herself for not listening, for being so wound up in her worries that she pushed Vicki's conjectures away. Then she felt a ray of hope: did this mean that Ian wasn't poisoned? She couldn't be sure. I've got to get myself moving, she decided; and she must have to tried to vocalise the thought, because something similar came out of her mouth. "I've got to get this Mouth working," she said.

To Barbara's amazement she suddenly heard the voice of the Doctor. "No, no, my dear Barbara, that's not the way to do it. You have to relax, settle into its psyche, lead it gently until it says what you want. Don't bludgeon its own words into the shape you desire! That's almost fleshlike in it's crudity!"

"Huh. Easy for you to say, Doctor." Barbara's heart skipped; that was Ian! He was still alive! "Your Mouth sat down within your influence quite willingly, and you had the best part of an hour to take control before you had to interact with its fellows at all. Barbara and I had to extend ourselves just to catch ours, and I immediately had to come up with something to send the others away. I doubt you could have done more than 'crude bludgeoning' in the circumstances, and I even managed to fiddle with the Mouth-mind's perceptions to make it act more normally. Which is pretty impressive in my book. Still, he's right about one thing, Barbara."

"What's that?" Barbara hadn't meant to say it, but it had slipped out. Her relief that Ian wasn't going to die had distracted her from the invader in her mind.

"You'll need something better to deal with the last one. It's already suspicious, and-"

"Barbara? Are you there?" That was Vicki's voice, from somewhere nearby.

"What am I going to do?" said both versions of Barbara. The other voices were gone. "Don't worry," they muttered, "I'll think of something."

Together, they called out to Vicki.

Next Time:
The Talking Stones of Tyron, scene 3