He had an ingenious scheme for providing the vital compressed air. 'We'll take the tyres off one and four wheels of Victor Foxtrot.'
Roger chuckled. It was a damn good idea. But there was one little snag
... 'Skipper, have you any idea how we jack up a hundred tons of aircraft?'
'We dig a hole,' said Captain Stapley.
You've got to hand it to him, thought Andrew Bilton, impressed with the Captain's lateral thinking.
'With three and two wheels still in place you don't need to support her,'
cried Scobie.
The Doctor ran towards the parked aircraft, leaving Tegan far behind.
He was panting heavily as he met up with Nyssa and the crew who were about to start work on the undercarriage of Victor Foxtrot.
'Captain,' he asked Stapley, 'is your aircraft all right?'
'Apart from some damage to the hydraulics, but we'll take some bits of Victor Foxtrot.'
'Ah,' said the Doctor. 'Not a good idea.' Thank goodness he had stopped them in time.
'But, Doctor, it would work.'
'If that were Concorde.'
Now the Doctor's being ridiculous, thought Stapley.
'It is Concorde!' protested Scobie.
Logic, however, was on the Doctor's side. He pointed to the second plane. 'That aircraft was damaged. Now it's in perfect condition.'
He was absolutely right.
'We must be hallucinating again,' groaned the Captain.
'I'm afraid not,' said the Doctor. 'That's the Master's TARDIS.'
Roger Scobie gulped. This was worse than a hundred people hitching a lift in a lump of marble. 'It's a plane!' He tried hard not to sound narrow-minded, but really!
For the Doctor and his companions the situation was horribly familiar.
'The Master has operated his chameleon circuit.'
'And materialised round the other aircraft.'
The Captain was desperately trying to follow the bizarre reasoning.
'Then Victor Foxtrot ...' he stammered.
'Is inside the Master's TARDIS,' the Doctor concluded sharply. 'I wish I had time to explain dimensional transcendentalism,' he added, already half-way to Captain Stapley's genuine Concorde. 'I'm going into my own TARDIS,' he shouted. 'You all stay here.'
'No, Doctor!' called Nyssa in alarm, trying to catch up with him. 'It's too dangerous!'
'There's no other way!'
'What are you going to do?' asked Stapley, trying to get a word in edgeways.
'The Doctor's going to materialise round the Master's TARDIS,' said Nyssa, horrified at the risk.
'You know what happened before!' Tegan had her own nightmare memories of those Chinese puzzles, from when she first stumbled into the TARDIS.
The Doctor would not be stopped. 'There's no time for anything else,'
he called from the cabin door.
But there was no time for anything at all.
'We're too late,' groaned Nyssa, as the dreaded clattering reached them from across the mudflat.
Then there was only one Concorde left parked on the frozen tundra.
The Master had gone.
'With the power of the Xeraphin, the Master will be invincible,'
declared Nyssa.
And we're stuck, thought the Doctor. 'Without the bits he stole from my TARDIS, we can only travel in this time zone,' he explained to the others.
'We're marooned?' asked Tegan in disbelief.
'I'm afraid so.'
Before anyone could think of anything to say, another whirring sound filled the air. They all looked up to see the shape of Golf Victor Foxtrot rematerialise a short way from their own aircraft.
The Doctor was not a man to take pleasure in the misfortunes of others, but a broad smile lit up his face. The Master was stuck as well.
The Master flung open the door of his Concorde TARDIS and glared at the Doctor. 'Devious to the last,' he hissed.
'Technical hitch?' Butter wouldn't melt in the Doctor's mouth as he smiled innocently at his enraged enemy.
'Your substitution of the time lapse compressor, for the temporal limiter,' accused the Master.
'That's the way it
Roger chuckled. It was a damn good idea. But there was one little snag
... 'Skipper, have you any idea how we jack up a hundred tons of aircraft?'
'We dig a hole,' said Captain Stapley.
You've got to hand it to him, thought Andrew Bilton, impressed with the Captain's lateral thinking.
'With three and two wheels still in place you don't need to support her,'
cried Scobie.
The Doctor ran towards the parked aircraft, leaving Tegan far behind.
He was panting heavily as he met up with Nyssa and the crew who were about to start work on the undercarriage of Victor Foxtrot.
'Captain,' he asked Stapley, 'is your aircraft all right?'
'Apart from some damage to the hydraulics, but we'll take some bits of Victor Foxtrot.'
'Ah,' said the Doctor. 'Not a good idea.' Thank goodness he had stopped them in time.
'But, Doctor, it would work.'
'If that were Concorde.'
Now the Doctor's being ridiculous, thought Stapley.
'It is Concorde!' protested Scobie.
Logic, however, was on the Doctor's side. He pointed to the second plane. 'That aircraft was damaged. Now it's in perfect condition.'
He was absolutely right.
'We must be hallucinating again,' groaned the Captain.
'I'm afraid not,' said the Doctor. 'That's the Master's TARDIS.'
Roger Scobie gulped. This was worse than a hundred people hitching a lift in a lump of marble. 'It's a plane!' He tried hard not to sound narrow-minded, but really!
For the Doctor and his companions the situation was horribly familiar.
'The Master has operated his chameleon circuit.'
'And materialised round the other aircraft.'
The Captain was desperately trying to follow the bizarre reasoning.
'Then Victor Foxtrot ...' he stammered.
'Is inside the Master's TARDIS,' the Doctor concluded sharply. 'I wish I had time to explain dimensional transcendentalism,' he added, already half-way to Captain Stapley's genuine Concorde. 'I'm going into my own TARDIS,' he shouted. 'You all stay here.'
'No, Doctor!' called Nyssa in alarm, trying to catch up with him. 'It's too dangerous!'
'There's no other way!'
'What are you going to do?' asked Stapley, trying to get a word in edgeways.
'The Doctor's going to materialise round the Master's TARDIS,' said Nyssa, horrified at the risk.
'You know what happened before!' Tegan had her own nightmare memories of those Chinese puzzles, from when she first stumbled into the TARDIS.
The Doctor would not be stopped. 'There's no time for anything else,'
he called from the cabin door.
But there was no time for anything at all.
'We're too late,' groaned Nyssa, as the dreaded clattering reached them from across the mudflat.
Then there was only one Concorde left parked on the frozen tundra.
The Master had gone.
'With the power of the Xeraphin, the Master will be invincible,'
declared Nyssa.
And we're stuck, thought the Doctor. 'Without the bits he stole from my TARDIS, we can only travel in this time zone,' he explained to the others.
'We're marooned?' asked Tegan in disbelief.
'I'm afraid so.'
Before anyone could think of anything to say, another whirring sound filled the air. They all looked up to see the shape of Golf Victor Foxtrot rematerialise a short way from their own aircraft.
The Doctor was not a man to take pleasure in the misfortunes of others, but a broad smile lit up his face. The Master was stuck as well.
The Master flung open the door of his Concorde TARDIS and glared at the Doctor. 'Devious to the last,' he hissed.
'Technical hitch?' Butter wouldn't melt in the Doctor's mouth as he smiled innocently at his enraged enemy.
'Your substitution of the time lapse compressor, for the temporal limiter,' accused the Master.
'That's the way it
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