Free Doctor Who: Planet of Fire by Peter Grimwade, British Broadcasting Corporation Page A

returned. But none of those arthritic ayatollahs could have achieved the speed with which Amyand’s picked men dashed up the portico steps and into the Hall.
    ‘Don’t anyone move!’ shouted the rebel leader as each Unbeliever ran to his strategic corner, grabbed a citizen and held a knife at his throat. ‘Stay where you are and no one will get hurt.’
    The guards raised their sabres, but dared not move for fear of causing injury to the hostages.
    Amyand ran to the stone platform in front of the cave where the fire still raged. ‘You’re here to see the Outsider,’
    he shouted, giving the crowd no time to recover from the shock of the invasion. ‘Well, you won’t be disappointed–
    because we’ve found him for you.’ He gestured to the entrance as the Doctor arrived at the top step of the portico like a royal bride. ‘In fact, two of them!’ cried Amyand excitedly as Turlough joined the Doctor.
    The citizens were overawed by the spectacle. Like the Unbelievers, they had never seen strangers before.
    ‘Doctor! Turlough!’ Amyand saluted the aliens who, escorted by the two armed Unbelievers, processed through the Hall, every eye upon them. ‘Do they look like messengers from Logar?’ shouted Amyand. ‘They’re men like us!’
     
    It was a disconcerting experience for the Doctor and Turlough to walk from one end of the building to the other under such universal scrutiny. Turlough was so embarassed that he had no inclination to look round the Hall, and it was not until he reached the platform by the cave that he saw the units from the Trion ship. ‘That’s the navigational unit from a Trion space shuttle!’ exclaimed the boy. ‘And the concentrator from a propulsion unit!’ He pointed to another piece of hi-tech pseudo-sculpture that adorned the platform.
    ‘These people,’ continued Amyand, pointing to the Doctor and Turlough, ‘will tell you that Logar is dead–that Logar never existed.’
    Turlough, however, was not interested in the idealogical problems of the Sarns; he wanted to know what they were doing with bits of a Trion space ship. But there was no chance to start asking questions as several of the more elderly Sarns had begun to protest at their treatment from Amyand’s gang of iconoclasts. One of the hostages had managed to free himself and several of the guards seemed on the point of a counter coup.
    ‘Stop!’ The voice that echoed through the hall was shrill and immature, hardly more than that of a child. Turlough felt a sudden sense of déjà vu , as if he and the boy, now entering with Sorasta, had met in some previous existence.
    Malkon walked confidently to the platform, ‘There will be no fighting. I order you to put down your weapons.’
    Reluctantly the guards obeyed. Malkon took the Doctor’s hand. ‘You are welcome to Sarn.’
    The Doctor smiled. ‘Not a very hospitable planet at the moment.’
    ‘You will hear out this Doctor,’ said Malkon, feeling far happier with the friendly newcomers than with the bullying mullah, Timanov.
    While the Doctor tried to explain to the Sarns the danger of the molten lava that would shortly erupt from the volcano, Turlough crept forward to get a closer look at the components from the ship. His expert eye easily identified the age and classification of the vessel. He also noticed, on the side of the navigation unit, the ominous but unmistakeable signs of burning. ‘Where did you find this?’ he unceremoniously challenged the boy that Sorasta had called their Chosen One. ‘Tell me, please!’
    This was a question that Malkon had asked Timanov many times. Somewhat apologetically he now gave the same answer. ‘That is a gift of Logar.’
    ‘These things came from a Trion spaceship!’ shouted Turlough accusingly. ‘Where did it land? Where are the crew?’
    The Doctor, who had joined him beside the components, seemed particularly interested in a large module in the navigation section. ‘Whoever the benefactor, he’s provided you