The Talking Stones of Tyron, scene 6

The Doctor watched the fourth one approaching. It was remarkable how far he could see now - the old Mouths had had more all-round vision, but they were so very limited when it came to focusing on things in front of them, or at any real distance. And most of the time they were content just to eat grass, whereas these had more complex needs. And more complex minds, of course. The more he exercised the brain, the more he realised that he had never thought like this before. It wasn't just the chemicals, or the level of cognition; it was... hm, what was it? The individuality. Yes, that was the word. He was an individual, with a name, and his own opinions. Fascinating.

He wasn't concerned about Vicki any more; after all, what could it do to get in their way? Nothing. She was just a girl, one that needed guidance and protection. And Miss Wright was simply too much of a worrier. Chesterton too, though in a different way. Yes, things were going to be fine.

Still, he probably ought to let the others know. "Vicki's coming this way. I think she wants to talk to me."

"What? We thought it was coming to me! So that's why it's been such a long time!"

"Calm down, Chesterton. It doesn't matter. Anyway, all I want you two to do is stay quiet, so I can concentrate. Do you think you can manage that, hm?"

Silence was his answer; and then young Vicki was there, striding across the bank, full of determination. Poor creature, she still looked as waiflike as she did when they had rescued her, even though so much time had passed, travelling in the TARDIS, seeing so many places...

The Doctor felt a wave of confusion. His memories were getting entangled with those of his Mouth again, rising to the surface unbidden. How could anyone think with a mind like this? It was exhausting, mad, chaotic - exhilarating. He felt as if he had never lived before! He wanted to-

"Doctor?" The voice brought him back to the present.

"Vicki, my dear! I do so apologise for my outburst. I don't know what came over me. Here, come sit by me."

"No. I know it isn't you, and I'm not going to be caught like Ian and Barbara! Tell me what you've done to them!"

The Doctor was hurt. "Me? I have done nothing to them. Why would I? Oh, I talk with them, sometimes, and with their primitive minds perhaps I influence them, yes, even lead them; but I would never do anything to harm them!"

Vicki wasn't convinced. "Oh, and I suppose you've done nothing to the Doctor, either?"

"My dear child, I am the Doctor. And I assure you, I have no intention of harming myself!" Automatically he reached for his lapels, before realising the position of his Mouth. Its hands paused, awkwardly, then fell back to its sides.

"You don't fool me for one minute. You can pretend, but-" A sudden realisation showed on Vicki's face. "You actually believe it, don't you? You really believe you are the Doctor!"

"Of course! Why shouldn't I? It's a fact. My vis directs the mind, my will controls the flesh body. It is different from previous Mouths, of course, but I daresay I will work out the details in time; and I wouldn't dream of putting it into danger by allowing it to fly willy-nilly across the universe."

"So - the part of you that is Ian, and the part of you that is Barbara, believes the same?"

"There is no 'part'. We are individuals." A look of delight passed across his face. "Yes, individuals. with our own, distinct identities and personalities. Isn't it marvellous?" He started to chuckle.

Vicki didn't seem amused, but then she was still thinking, still trying to get her simple, human mind to comprehend the situation. "So, how many of you are there?"

"Three." The Doctor chuckled again, watching her reaction. "Well, there are three of us who are active, alive. In truth, I do not know how many of us there are waiting in potentia, so to speak; lacking a Mouth to talk through, a brain to think with." For some reason an image of his Mouth's homeworld flitted across his consciousness; he ignored it. "I remember stepping out of the TARDIS. The forests have intruded quite some way into our lands, and the trees will have damaged or destroyed many of our units. At a guess I would say, oh, a billion remaining, two or three at most."

Vicki took a sharp breath; she seemed shocked. "You don't use the stones to catch people, you are the stones!"

"Well, you are half right. There are two aspects to me, the stone and the flesh. One is no more important than the other. Without flesh, there is no thought, no communication; without stone, there is no direction."

"That's not true! We have direction!"

"Indeed? Is that why you wander through time and space at random?"

"That's different." Vicki paused, looking thoughtful again. "Why are you telling me this? Aren't you afraid I'll use the information to free my friends?"

Because I am too alone, thought the Doctor. Because the company of Ian and Barbara isn't enough. Because there is something missing from my life, and I don't know what it is; and because I remember you helped fill a void once before. "I am not afraid," he said, "because there is nothing you can do. And I tell you because it does no harm, and it passes the time."

The child nodded. "I see. Well, no hard feelings, then?" She held out her hand; without thinking, the Doctor raised his Mouth's own arm to shake it.

As soon as she had a firm grip Vicki pulled, putting all her weight into the struggle. She brought her other hand round to help, but it made no difference; the Doctor's Mouth was attached to the ground as if glued there. Eventually the child fell back, giving up the fight.

"You see," said the Doctor, "It makes no difference. You cannot change things."

Strangely, Vicki was smiling. "Oh, you think so, do you?" She held up her hand; something glinted loosely on one finger.

"My ring! You stole my ring!"

There was anger in Vicki's reply. "It's not yours! It's the Doctor's!"

"But... that is... me?"

What was happening? The ring was fascinating, pulsating with prismatic energy; but as he watched it, the Doctor felt the psychic link between vis and viscus failing. About time too! he thought. No! I shall look away! You will, will you? I doubt you have the capacity, that is to say, the capability, to do something of that kind. But I don't want to go! Ah, isn't that strange? It never bothered me before. Why should I fear oblivion? But I do, I do; and so it is you who shall be separated from this flesh! Down, Mouth-mind, get back down!

As the Doctor struggled Vicki watched, moving the ring rhythmically as she had seen him do in the past, on Vortis. She looked so pale and fragile; such a small thing on which to hang the future of a world. So different from the stone, and yet, not so different from what he was missing.

One of the Doctors let go.

Next Time:
The Talking Stones of Tyron, scene 7