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  The Doctor knocked on the door of Tegan’s room. 
        He heard her call out to him and pushed the door open. She was sitting 
        on her bed reading a book. She put it under her pillow quickly, as if 
        she didn’t want him to notice the title. His quick eyes caught the 
        image of a luxury train and the author’s name. She had been reading 
        Murder on The Orient Express. 
        “That’s a coincidence,” he said. “Remember our 
        trip last year.” 
        “I remember,” Tegan said, but without enthusiasm. The Doctor 
        was puzzled. He had heard her tell complete strangers about her trip on 
        the Orient Express with enthusiasm. 
        “What’s up?” He sat on the edge of the bed and reached 
        out to touch her hand gently. She didn’t withdraw her hand. That 
        was a good sign.  
        “I just feel... It was rough on the Sea Base. So many people died.... 
        so many innocent people....” 
        “Yes,” The Doctor agreed. “Humans... and the Silurians 
        and Sea Devils. It shouldn’t have been that way. But... Tegan... 
        I was proud of you. I know you were scared, and you were hurt, too. But 
        you were brave. And you were more than that. You were compassionate. You 
        were the best a Human can be when so many on Sea Base were being the worst. 
        I’m proud of you.” 
        Tegan gave a weak smile. Being complimented by The Doctor meant a lot 
        to her.  
        “Tulough was pretty brave,” she said. “And loyal, too. 
        He stuck up for you, Doctor. And when that lot would have left you to 
        die he went back for you.” 
        “Yes, he did. I was touched by his faith in me. Now that he’s 
        free of the Black Guardian his true nature has surfaced. His people have 
        a right to be proud of him.” 
        “Whoever they are,” Tegan added, remembering that Turlough 
        was not Human and not from Earth. 
        “That’s for him to disclose, when he feels he can do so,” 
        The Doctor said. “Meanwhile, I was thinking about a party. I found 
        this in a cupboard.”  
        Tegan glanced at a handwritten letter addressed to one Lord Peter Palmer 
        inviting him and his friends to a New Years Eve party at the London home 
        of Lady Margery Astoria. The cream coloured notepaper, edged in gold, 
        had an elaborate crest at the top.  
        “Lady Astoria?” she queried. “Lord Peter Palmer...” 
        “Remember, on the train. Cecelia Hayes mentioned that she met me 
        briefly at the party. When I tracked down Lady Astoria’s jewels.” 
        “Lord Palmer tracked down the jewels.” 
        “Seems like I AM Lord Palmer. I hadn’t been to Lady Astoria’s 
        party at the time, though. That’s why I thought it would be nice...” 
        “It would be nicer if Nyssa and Adric were coming, too,” Tegan 
        said quietly.  
        “Ah,” The Doctor understood, now. “You’re missing 
        them.” 
        “When things were tough, like they were on Sea Base, I always had 
        Nyssa to talk to about it all. You know... girl to girl sort of thing. 
        Even... when Adric... we were there for each other.” 
        “I’ve always been there for you,” The Doctor pointed 
        out. “You can talk to me. I know it’s not the same... but 
        you CAN, any time.”  
        “I know that, Doc,” Tegan assured him. “Right from the 
        start you were great. When you told me about Aunt Vanessa... you were 
        so kind about it. And you helped me cope with the Mara... and...” 
        “I’m sorry that you seem to have suffered so much in the course 
        of our adventures,” The Doctor admitted. “You have been hurt 
        so often, mentally and physically and some of it is my fault.” 
        “All of it’s your fault, Doctor,” Tegan replied with 
        a flash of her old fierceness. “But I forgive you.” 
        “Good, then how about you put on a dress suitable for partying in 
        exclusive London society on the Eve of 1935 and I’ll get out my 
        top hat and tails and be your escort for the night.” 
        “Escort?” Tegan smiled widely despite her solemn mood. “You 
        mean... like a date?”  
        “Just this once, yes,” The Doctor told her. “I would 
        be honoured.” Turlough was excited by the prospect of a society party, too, though 
        less so by the need to wear formal clothes. 
        “This is worse than school uniform,” he complained about the 
        formal evening suit he was wearing along with a silk top hat. The Doctor 
        was wearing the same, which was enough of a change from his usual attire 
        to mark this evening as special.  
        “You both look like Fred Astaire,” Tegan told them. “Very 
        suave.” 
        “And you would give Ginger a run for her money,” The Doctor 
        replied. Tegan looked extremely elegant in a golden-brown silk satin evening 
        dress that hugged her figure from the fan shaped bodice to just below 
        the knee where it again fanned out into a wide skirt around her ankles. 
        Matching dancing pumps peeped out from under the skirt and she had tiny 
        silk fans in her hair. To complete the ensemble she was carrying a fan 
        shaped clutch purse with a few necessary cosmetics in.  
        The TARDIS was parked at the end of the elegant Chelsea street. Tegan 
        wrapped a cream coloured cashmere shawl around her shoulders as the party 
        stepped out and hurried to number four, the London home of Lady Astoria. 
        The door was opened by a butler. The Doctor introduced himself as Lord 
        Palmer, and they were conveyed indoors to a warmly lit hallway and then 
        into a finely decorated drawing room where a number of guests were already 
        gathered. Tegan was gratified to notice that her gown compared favourably 
        with those worn by the bone fide 1935 society ladies. The men, old and 
        young, all looked like variations on Fred Astaire. The Doctor and Turlough 
        would fit in easily.  
        A woman who just had to be Lady Astoria was the centre of attention among 
        the crowd. She was in her late thirties with deep auburn hair exquisitely 
        coiffured and her make up perfectly applied. She was wearing a mint green 
        backless and sleeveless dress. The expanse of flesh between the bodice 
        and neck was enhanced by an emerald that was an inch and a half across 
        and glittered in the light from the electric chandelier. It was impossible 
        not to look at it rather than at her face. Tall men stooped to see it 
        better. Short women looked directly at her so beautifully decorated bosom. 
         
        When the butler announced Lord Palmer, the Honourable Mr Victor Turlough 
        and the Honorable Miss Tegan Jovanka, she broke off from the social group 
        she was with and came to greet them. Turlough’s eyes turned from 
        her face to the emerald. His eyes flickered back to her face but they 
        slid back down again.  
        Tegan looked closely at the jewel and was impressed by it. Tulough couldn’t 
        take his eyes off it – unless it really was Lady Astoria’s 
        bosom that attracted him.  
        The Doctor kept his eyes on the jewel for a few seconds longer than seemed 
        strictly necessary, and then deliberately looked at Lady Astoria’s 
        face instead. Tegan watched him as he chatted with her, though. His eyes 
        really did slide down every so often to the glittering emerald.  
        Tegan took hold of Turlough’s arm and steered him towards the window. 
        They looked out at a dark Chelsea street full of the four storey high 
        London houses of well off people, stockbrokers and bankers and ladies 
        of independent means like Lady Astoria.  
        “Hello,” said a woman with an American accent. bTegan half 
        turned and saw a tall, slender woman with a cigarette in a long holder. 
        “I was just admiring your dress. It must be Italian.” 
        “I... er... yes... it is,” Tegan agreed. It could have been 
        from Mars for all she knew. It came from the TARDIS wardrobe. But if it 
        looked Italian it would do for her. “Oh... you’re Cecilia 
        Hayes. We met on...” 
        She stopped. Of course, Cecilia hadn’t been on the Orient Express 
        yet. That was next year for her.  
        “I’ve seen some of your films,” she amended quickly. 
        “It’s funny, but it feels as if we really did meet. But that’s 
        the magic of the silver screen, I suppose.” 
        “It must be. But... your accent, my dear. You’re not from 
        these parts, either?” 
        “Brisbane, Australia,” Tegan admitted. “I’m travelling 
        with The... I mean... with Lord Peter. And this is my friend, Turlough... 
        he’s from Ireland.”  
        Turlough’s accent wasn’t even remotely Irish, but The Doctor 
        had pointed out that his name was. In Ireland a turlough was a transitory 
        lake that only appeared in wet weather and dried up in high summer. So 
        in social settings like this it was useful to pass him off as Irish. Nobody 
        commented on his lack of an accent.  
        “Pleased to meet you, Turlough,” Cecilia said to him. Then 
        her eyes turned towards the street outside. “Tegan... look around 
        carefully. Do you see that man down there. I think he’s watching 
        this house.”  
        Tegan turned her head carefully. She looked down at the pool of light 
        beneath one of the electric lamps. Beyond the light was a shadow that 
        could have been a man... possibly. 
        “I’m always in the limelight,” Cecilia remarked. “I 
        mean, literally. I can recognise somebody standing in the dark outside 
        of the light. There’s a man there. He’s been there all the 
        time we’ve been talking.” 
        “It could be nothing,” Tegan said. “But...perhaps we 
        should tell The Doctor... I mean... Lord Palmer. If he thinks it’s 
        suspicious...” 
        She turned and looked at The Doctor. He was still talking to Lady Astoria. 
        That is to say, she was talking to him. Telling him that they thought 
        there was a stranger watching the house in front of her might be tricky. 
         
        “It’s all right,” Cecilia told her. “He’s 
        gone.” 
        Tegan looked back and saw that she was right. There was nobody in the 
        shadows, now. 
        “Maybe he was just lighting a cigarette,” she said. She was 
        about to say something else when Lady Astoria’s butler announced 
        that dinner was served. The double doors to the dining room were opened 
        and the guests went through to take their places. 
        Tegan was pleased to find that she was seated next to Cecilia and her 
        husband. She liked them both. The problems that troubled them on the Orient 
        Express were obviously still to come and they were relaxed and happy. 
        Cecilia talked about her upcoming film. The plot seemed a thin one, involving 
        a wealthy businessman who meets a struggling dancer in Shanghai. A few 
        misunderstandings and coincidences later and they have a happy ending 
        with a fairy tale wedding in a big white gown.  
        “It sounds great,” Tegan lied with as much conviction as she 
        could muster. “I hope it’ll make millions for you.” 
        “Hardly millions,” Cecilia answered. “I do very well. 
        I’m not on fixed contract rates. I make enough to live this kind 
        of high life, nice clothes, jewels, international travel. But millions... 
        Besides, it can’t last forever. There are plenty of pretty women 
        in Hollywood who can act as well as I can. And some of them are younger. 
        But for as long as I’m the one they want, I’ll make the most 
        of it.” 
        “Good for you,” Tegan told her.  
        “What about you?” Cecilia asked. “What do you do when 
        you’re home in Australia?” 
        “I...” Tegan hesitated. She tried to remember if the job of 
        air hostess existed yet in the 1930s. Were commercial airlines that advanced, 
        yet?  
        Then the lights went out. All of the lights, even the candles in the settings 
        around the table. There were theatrical shrieks from some of the women 
        and at least two of the men before everything went quiet apart from the 
        soft, squishing sound of unconscious people falling forwards into their 
        desserts. 
        Turlough was one of the few people who heard that particular sound. He 
        strained his eyes for any scrap of light, but there was none. That puzzled 
        him. There were street lamps outside and the curtains were not so thick 
        as to blot them out completely. He ought to have been able to see where 
        the window was. 
        Then there was a light in the room. A blue-white light sweeping across 
        the faces of the diners. There were people walking around behind the seated 
        guests. They were dressed as waiters, the caterers who had been serving 
        the meal. But if they were employed by Lady Astoria she needed to reconsider 
        her equal opportunities policy.  
        They were aliens. Turlough looked at their deep green faces through half 
        closed eyes, keeping as still as he possibly could. He knew it would do 
        him no good to reveal that he was not affected by whatever had sent everyone 
        else to sleep. 
        They didn’t speak to each other. They seemed to know what they were 
        doing without spoken communication. That meant telepathy or some sort 
        of really subtle body language. He watched them checking each of the guests 
        at the table until they came to Lady Astoria herself. She seemed to be 
        the target. 
        Or at least her emerald was. The green men all got very excited when they 
        saw the jewel. Their hands all reached out towards it, even those too 
        far away to possibly touch it. Then the leader snatched the emerald on 
        its chain and held it up for them all to see. They crowded closer but 
        without any recognisable words, any snarl or hiss, he adopted what in 
        any language was a defensive stance. The others backed off. He put the 
        pendant around his own neck and the others all bowed to him before he 
        turned and left the room, followed by the newly subservient crowd. The 
        room was dark and quiet again. 
        Turlough wondered what he ought to do. Should he try to follow the green 
        men or... 
        “Stay still, Turlough,” The Doctor whispered. “We’re 
        going to be transmatted back again in a few moments. Don’t get yourself 
        left behind on their ship.” 
        “Ship?” Turlough queried. “But...” 
        “That’s why it went dark,” The Doctor answered him. 
        “We... all of us... everyone around the table, and the table itself, 
        were transmatted onto the Eikili ship. All the humans were knocked out 
        by it. There was a neural feedback. Didn’t affect me, obviously. 
        And it looks like your species are just different enough from Earth humans 
        to be unaffected, too.” 
        “Tegan?” 
        “Keep still. It’s best if we’re sitting exactly where 
        we were before we were transmatted. Otherwise things can go wrong.” 
        “Wrong like...” 
        “Rematerialising half way through the dinner table.” 
        “Erkk.” 
        Then the lights came on again – which is to say, according to The 
        Doctor, they had been transmatted back to Lady Astoria’s dining 
        room. The Doctor counted to ten and then stood up. Turlough stood, too. 
        He immediately looked at Tegan. She was one of the people who had not 
        fallen into her pudding. She would probably be glad of that when she woke 
        up. The Doctor gently lifted those who had and wiped their faces with 
        napkins to spare their embarrassment as they slowly began to regain consciousness. 
        “What happened?” That was the question they were all asking. 
        “Why were we asleep?” “What happened to the crème 
        caramel?” was a low priority but one or two of them did wonder about 
        the mess on their plates.  
        “My Emerald!” Lady Astoria shrieked. “I’ve been 
        robbed.” 
        “Yes, you have,” The Doctor said calmly. “Everyone, 
        please give me your attention.”  
        He only had to repeat himself once before he got their attention. A hush 
        came over the interrupted diners as they turned to look at the famous 
        detective, Lord Peter Palmer. He walked slowly around the table with his 
        fingers pressed against his forehead as if in the sort of deep thought 
        Agatha Christie attributed to Hercule Poiroit. They waited with bated 
        breath for him to speak. 
        “Yes, a dastardly and cunning crime has been committed. Lady Astoria’s 
        gem was stolen while we were all unconscious. A fast acting drug in the 
        water glasses, I suspect. The absence of the catering staff leads me to 
        suspect that they were responsible. They will have made a clean getaway 
        by now. The trail is cold. But all is not lost. I have clues enough to 
        begin a search. Lady Astoria, you may, of course, wish to call the police. 
        A crime has been committed, after all. But if you would prefer to leave 
        the matter in my hands, I assure you, I will have your jewel returned 
        to you by the stroke of midnight.” 
        “I say,” remarked one of the Fred Astaire look-alikes with 
        a title before his name. “That sounds like a challenge. Ten guineas 
        says Lord Peter does it.” 
        Another man bet five guineas he wouldn’t be back by midnight. A 
        bet of another ten guineas was put on him being a full hour early. In 
        the midst of the chatter The Doctor and Turlough slipped out of the room. 
         
        “Hey, where do you two think you’re going?” Tegan demanded, 
        running to catch up with them as they were at the front door. “You’re 
        not leaving me behind.” 
        “I wouldn’t dream of it,” The Doctor replied. “But 
        I thought you were still recovering from the knockout drops.” 
        “It wasn’t knockout drops,” Tegan said scornfully. “And 
        if it was, it wasn’t in the water. Lord Tetherington never touched 
        the water. Nor did Lady Marchmount. They were both on the hard stuff from 
        the moment they sat down.” 
        “You’re quite right, Tegan,” The Doctor told her. “It 
        wasn’t the water.” He quickly filled her in on what HAD happened. 
        Her eyes opened wide as Turlough described the green--faced people.  
        “Not... Doctor... not Silurians again?”  
        “No, they’re not reptilian,” The Doctor corrected her. 
        “They are humanoid, descended from an ape-like being just like you. 
        They’re vegetarians. Their bodies retain chlorophyll from their 
        food which gives them a shiny green skin colour.” 
        “And they have a thing for emeralds?” Tegan asked. “Is 
        that why they stole Lady Astoria’s jewel?”  
        “Partly,” The Doctor replied. They were outside in the street, 
        now. He looked up at the window of Lady Astoria’s drawing room. 
        A slender female figure that might have been Cecilia Hayes was looking 
        out.  
        “Oh, that reminds me,” Tegan told him. “We saw somebody 
        standing out here on the street, earlier. Hiding in the shadows.” 
        “Yes, I expect you did,” The Doctor said very nonchalantly, 
        as if strange people hiding in the shadows was normal in Chelsea. He crossed 
        the street quickly and slipped into the shadows himself. When Turlough 
        and Tegan caught up with him, he was not alone.  
        “But he’s....” Turlough exclaimed.  
        “This is Mug-Dixi,” The Doctor said, introducing the man dressed 
        in smart evening suit just like every other man in the neighbourhood seemed 
        to be. He stood out only in that his face was a glossy green colour. Tegan 
        thought it was SO green it looked fake, like the overdone make up of the 
        Bad Witch in a production of The Wizard of Oz she remembered seeing in 
        Brisbane a few years before she joined The Doctor’s crew.  
        “Mug-Dixi?” Vislor Turlough queried. “Odd name.” 
        “It’s a very common name on Eikil, where he comes from,” 
        The Doctor explained. “He’s a private detective and he was 
        tracking down the crown jewel of Eikil. He was very close when the Texi-Kago 
        gang struck and escaped with it, which is very bad news for Eikilians.” 
        “Why?” Tegan asked. She noted that they were walking back 
        towards the TARDIS. Mug-Dixi walked with them. He stepped aboard the TARDIS 
        with them at The Doctor’s invitation, and didn’t seem very 
        surprised by what it looked like inside. 
        “The Crown Jewel of Eikil is the symbol of supreme rule on our world,” 
        Mug-Dixi explained. “The one who owns it owns everything, rules 
        all, and can expect the unswerving loyalty of every Eikilian.” 
        “That’s why the others bowed to the one who took the emerald,” 
        Turlough said. “But if this geezer stole it... well, surely you 
        don’t just take orders from whoever has the thing. What if somebody 
        steals it from him... and what if it gets stolen again. You could have 
        a new ruler every day and they’d all be jewel thieves.” 
        “The true ruler has protection around his person at all times,” 
        Mug-Dixi replied. “At least he is supposed to. The last ruler was 
        killed on a state visit to Ir in the Ganneymede sector and the jewel disappeared. 
        I was sent to retrieve it on behalf of the true ruler’s son, who 
        should naturally inherit the throne. I traced it to this planet, where 
        it had come into the possession of one of the natives...” 
        “Lady Astoria...” 
        “Indeed, that one. I was planning to retrieve it tonight. But the 
        Texi-Kago struck unexpectedly. I was unable to intervene. And now, all 
        is lost unless...” 
        Mug-Dixi looked at The Doctor pleadingly. He was looking at the navigation 
        console. 
        “As it happens, I think I can help,” The Doctor told him. 
        “There is a ship leaving Earth’s orbit right now. It has the 
        distinctive exhaust trace of an Eikilian cruiser. It won’t be able 
        to reach light speed until it clears the solar system. Plenty of time 
        to catch up with it. Did you have any special plan once aboard?” 
        “My plan was to substitute this for the true Crown Jewel,” 
        Mug-Dixi said. He held up a huge gem that looked exactly like the one 
        stolen from Lady Astoria. The Doctor took it from him and examined it 
        very carefully.  
        “This is a genuine emerald,” he said. “Identical to 
        the Crown Jewel.” 
        “So why not give that one to the rightful heir and let him tell 
        everyone it’s the real thing?” Tegan asked.  
        “Because the real Jewel is imbued with a charm that makes all Eikilians 
        worship it,” Mug-Dixi answered. “This one is merely a valuable 
        stone.” 
        Tegan and Turlough looked at each other and shrugged. It made precious 
        little sense to them. 
        “A charm?” Turlough ventured. “Like... magic?” 
        “It would be a low level gamma-micron field,” The Doctor explained. 
        “Not magic, just rather oddball science. Gamma-micron particles 
        affect the brain in a peculiar way. It even affected the humans at the 
        party. All of them were drawn to the emerald in a vague way. That’s 
        why all the men seemed to be more than unusually interested in Lady Astoria’s 
        bosom. In Eikilian minds it is utterly compulsive. Worship, yes. And for 
        the ambitious, an uncontrollable covetousness.” 
        “The One Ring,” Tegan commented. “That sort of covetousness 
        can’t do anyone any good.” 
        “I agree,” The Doctor told her. “It really is time the 
        Eikilians found a better way of choosing their government. But they’re 
        so hung up on accepting rule by the possessor of the Crown Jewel.” 
        Mug-Dixi didn’t seem offended by the criticism of his people and 
        their way of life. Indeed, he seemed distracted from the conversation 
        altogether. He was looking at the viewscreen which showed the TARDIS to 
        be hanging in space near a large ship.  
        Three other ships were approaching it. 
        “The Faw-Las, Sis-Lez and Te-Jo gangs,” Mug-Dixi said. “They’re 
        all after the Crown Jewel, too.” 
        “How many more are likely to turn up?” Tegan demanded. “This 
        is our solar system, not a battleground.” 
        She sounded so fierce The Doctor half expected her to open a communication 
        and order the four ships to leave the area. She might have done, too. 
        But events took a startling and violent turn just then. The viewscreen 
        dimmed to shield all their eyes as the three extra ships all exploded 
        one after the other leaving the original one, belonging to the Texi-Kago 
        gang, surrounded by glowing debris. 
        “What happened?” Tegan asked.  
        “The Texi-Kago fired on them. They must have accessed the base codes 
        of the three ships and brought down their shields, first. Then they fired.” 
        “They killed them.” 
        “All that for an emerald!” Tegan summed it up that way. Mug-Dixi 
        started to tell her again about the importance of the emerald to Eikilian 
        politics but she rounded on him angrily. 
        “Shut up,” she said. “Don’t you get it? Life is 
        precious. All life. Even green faced life. You don’t just fight 
        and kill each other for a piece of compressed mineral that shines a bit. 
        Life is more important than any emerald. Even that damn one. It’s 
        disgusting. And...” 
        She ran out of words, but her point was made.  
        “We still have to get it back,” Mug-Dixi insisted. “Texi-Kago 
        ruling Eikilian would be unthinkable. The man is a thug of the worst kind.” 
        “We’re going to do that,” The Doctor promised. “Materialising 
        on the Texi-Kago ship’s bridge right now.” 
        The time rotor wheezed up and down four times as they moved from space 
        orbit to within the ship and came to a stop. The Doctor frowned at the 
        life signs monitor and then looked up at the viewscreen. Tegan gave a 
        horrified cry. 
        “It might be better if you didn’t come out,” The Doctor 
        said to her. But she followed him and Mug-Dixi and an equally horrified 
        Turlough out onto the bridge. 
        “Are they all dead?” she asked as they looked around at a 
        scene of chaos and murder. Bodies were strewn all over, most of them shot 
        in the head or torso. Their blood, a deep blue colour, stained the floor 
        and gave off a pungent smell like india ink mixed with beef kidneys. Some 
        of them were still wearing the waiter uniforms from Lady Astoria’s 
        dinner party, proving that this was, indeed, the gang that had stolen 
        the jewel.  
        “I’m picking up one weak lifesign,” Mug-Dixi said, consulting 
        the ship’s own environmental monitor. “That way.” 
        The Doctor led the party across the bridge to a sealed door marked ‘escape 
        pod’. He confirmed that the pod had not been launched and put his 
        hand against the door release. There was a hiss of compressed air and 
        it slid open.  
        The Texi-Kago leader fell out of the pod. He was covered in blood from 
        a wound in his stomach. He breathed shallowly twice and died before anyone 
        could do anything about it.  
        The emerald fell out of his dead hand. Turlough picked it up. The Doctor 
        stepped forward and covered the body with a piece of cloth that appeared 
        to be the flag of the Texi-Kago family. Then he went to the bridge computer. 
        He found the ship’s log and replayed it.  
        “They fought among themselves,” he said. “After killing 
        the opposition, they turned on each other, each suspecting the other of 
        coveting the emerald. The leader shot dozens of them in the belief that 
        they wanted to usurp him. Finally he and his first officer were left in 
        a stand off. They were both mortally wounded. The leader reached the escape 
        pod, but it was too late.” 
        Tegan was crying openly. The Texi-Kago were a ruthless gang of thieves. 
        So were the ones who had been killed on the other ships. She didn’t 
        even hold out much hope for the Eikilian race generally. But the sheer 
        waste of life appalled her. The Doctor looked at her and felt guilty. 
        He had brought her to Lady Astoria’s party as a respite from the 
        carnage she had witnessed on the Sea Base, and she was in the thick of 
        it again.  
        “Show me that other emerald,” Turlough said to Mug-Dixi. “The 
        duplicate one you were going to palm off on him.”  
        Mug Dixi passed him the duplicate. As he did so, he reached for the true 
        Crown Jewel, but Turlough snatched his hand back out of reach. He held 
        up both emeralds and studied them critically.  
        “No,” he said finally. “I can’t tell the difference. 
        They’re the same. As near as matters. I don’t know what the 
        fuss is all about. Tegan, what do you think?”  
        He held them out to Tegan. She shook her head impatiently. She had already 
        made her feelings about the emerald clear. She didn’t care if there 
        was a difference or not. But Turlough pressed them into her hands. She 
        looked at them once and gave them back to him.  
        “They look the same to me,” she said. “Except nobody 
        murders anyone about the other one.” 
        “Please,” Mug Dixi begged. “Please let me have the True 
        Crown Jewel. I will take it to Eikil as soon as possible. The rightful 
        ruler will make sure it does not fall into the wrong hands again.” 
        Turlough passed the Crown Jewel to Mug-Dixi. He looked at it carefully 
        for a moment then put it into a velvet bag and hid it within his clothes. 
        “Tell your rightful ruler that I’ll be watching him,” 
        The Doctor said. “If I think he isn’t the right hand for any 
        reason I’ll be having strong words. Do you understand me?” 
         
        “Yes, sir,” Mug Dixi answered. “I... won’t detain 
        you. I’ll use auto pilot to return to Eikil with this ship...” 
        “You do that,” The Doctor said to him. “Come on, both 
        of you. Turlough, mind you don’t lose that jewel. We can keep our 
        promise to Lady Astoria. Back before midnight.” 
        Turlough pocketed the duplicate emerald and strolled back to the TARDIS. 
        Tegan walked with him. She still looked unhappy. The Doctor followed behind 
        and closed the door as he stepped inside.  
        They returned to the party at ten to midnight, Turlough bearing the emerald 
        proudly. Lady Astoria was delighted. The wagerer who had put money on 
        them arriving at ten to midnight was triumphant. Tegan smiled warmly at 
        Cecilia Hayes who pressed a glass of champagne into her hands and congratulated 
        her on a great piece of detective work. 
        “I really didn’t do anything,” Tegan assured her. “I 
        just... tagged along. The Doctor... Lord Peter... he’s the clever 
        one. Never mind all that. Tell me about your next film again.” 
        Tegan just didn’t want to have to make up a story about chasing 
        villains through the streets of London. She let Cecilia talk while she 
        watched Lady Astoria with her jewel restored. She noted that everyone 
        still found themselves drawn to her bosom.  
        Midnight came and they all joined hands to sing Auld Lang Syne and welcome 
        in the new year. Afterwards, though, Tegan found Turlough and drew him 
        away from the throng of revellers. 
        “I tried to mix the two emeralds up,” she said. “I think 
        you did, too. So Mug-Dixi couldn’t tell which was in which hand. 
        Did he know you passed him the duplicate?” 
        “I think he did,” Turlough replied. “But he didn’t 
        say anything. I think he realises it’s for the best. The Doctor 
        says the gamma micron particles have only a minor effect on humans. They 
        just make Lady Astoria the most popular lady at the party. It’s 
        safe here. Nobody will kill anyone for it.” 
        “And the Eikilians might stop killing each other for it,” 
        Tegan added. “I hope.” 
        “So do I,” Turlough agreed. 
        “Well done, both of you,” The Doctor said, putting his arms 
        around them both. “I had an idea like that in mind. But you worked 
        it out all by yourselves.” 
        “I wish we could have found a way to do it before so many of them 
        died,” Tegan pointed out. 
        “Yes,” The Doctor sighed. “I agree. But we did our best. 
        So braveheart, Tegan. You did well, my dear girl. Now come and have some 
        more champagne and listen to Lady Astoria tell everyone what a fantastic 
        detective I am.” 
        “You mean what a fantastic detective Lord Peter is,” Tegan 
        reminded him.  
        “Him, too,” The Doctor replied.   
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