A Dark and Stormy Night

ACT TWO

	By the time the three time travellers stepped outside, Sloan had
most of his soldiers set up at strategic points around the school.  Martinez
grabbed a spare rifle and joined two soldiers in the back of an old jeep
headed to the other end of the school's football field.
	The black storm clouds that surrounded them grumbled as raindrops
began to fall.  Jo pulled up her hood and fastened her coat as the intensity
of the rain increased.
	The Master donned an expensively tailored trenchcoat, opened a black
umbrella to block the rain and marched straight up to Sloan, joining his small
party on the downside of a hill that led up from an irrigation ditch.  The
Doctor and Jo hurried to catch up with them.
	`Sure as hell looks like Bridgewater to me,' Sloan muttered as he
lowered his binoculars and handed them to the Master.  `What do you think,
Professor?'
	The Master peered through the lenses and focused on the figure that
now stood only a few hundred meters away.
	`That is your target, Colonel Sloan:  the storm demon Achmael.'
	`Target?'  The Doctor steadied himself with a hand on Sloan's
shoulder as he squeezed in between him and his arch-nemesis.  `Colonel, I
would suggest you pull back your men and avoid provoking him at all costs.'
	`Doctor, we've got to do something.'
	`No.'  Even Sloan was surprised by the Master's next words.  `The
Doctor is right.  We must observe this creature first and determine how best
to proceed.  We must minimize the loss to human life.'
	`Are you sure you're feeling all right?' Jo asked without eliciting
any visible response.
	They waited and watched, passing the binoculars around.  The Master
withdrew a hand-held computer of a design clearly unfamiliar to the Colonel
from a jacket pocket and took some readings.  The Doctor examined both the
Master and Sloan with disinterest, then focused his attention back on Achmael.
	Achmael stomped about in the field, throwing his arms about wildly,
causing the occasional bolt of lightning or violent isolated cloudburst.  As
he drew slowly closer, he noted each soldier positioned around the perimeter
of the field and smiled inwardly.  He finally turned and focused his gaze on
two of them, then raised his arms to the sky and twirled them round and round.
The clouds above began to swirl, faster, ever faster, forming the earliest
stage of a small funnel cloud.  The soldiers took the hint, shouldered their
rifles and retreated to a position a little further away.  Achmael let the
funnel cloud settle down and instead called down lightning bolts a few seconds
apart, each timed to strike a few meters behind their retreat, close enough
to frighten, but not to harm.
	`I don't understand!' the Master exclaimed, unable to control himself
any longer.  `He has the power to call up tornadoes and hurricanes, to kill
thousands in the virtual blink of an eye, yet he wastes time with these
meaningless theatrics.  He could kill everyone in this county in a few short
minutes, but instead he lingers behind playing out long-term disasters like
this cursed flood!'
	`Sounds like one of your schemes in action,' the Doctor joked.
	`He's like the school bully,' Sloan noted.
	`Or a pussycat that's caught a mouse,' Jo suggested.
	`Of course!'  The Master snapped his fingers in the air as it all
clicked.  `Just like the cat, Achmael believes he has us exactly where he
wants us.  He's playing with us before he moves in for the kill!  How very
interesting...'
	`Do you have any idea what you're all suggesting?' the Doctor asked.
	The Master nodded.  `The storm demon has been traveling this world,
enjoying himself at humanity's expense.  The floods, the droughts, all this
severe weather across the planet.  He must have been pacing himself,
savouring every quantum of his power!'
	`I suppose that's really the only sensible explanation for what's
been happening,' Sloan muttered.
	`But that would take an extraordinary patience,' the Doctor argued,
his voice then trailing off as he realized what he had just said.  `Patience.
Of course.  Two hundred years trapped underwater.  He'd have been living in
the bodies of marine animals, unable to use more than a fraction of his
actual power.  His two centuries of captivity must have taught him a certain
measure of patience, which he's now applying in these deadly games.  Why,
he's almost like a child who has grown a little since my last visit.
Fascinating...'
	`Doctor, your "child" has killed thousands...'
	`I didn't say I was proud of him.'
	`Look!'  Jo pointed to the center of the field, where a cloud grew
around Achmael as if summoned from the water in the soil and grass.  With a
flick of the wrist, the newly formed cloud began to soar into the air,
taking Achmael with it as if on a magic carpet ride.
	`Wait here,' the Master commanded.  `I have an idea.'  With that, he
climbed the hill and took off across the field like a spring-loaded antelope.
	`What does that idiot think he's doing?' Sloan asked.
	`Springing his latest scheme, I would imagine,' frowned the Doctor.
`I wonder what he's got in mind this time.'

	As the Master approached the center of the field, Achmael looked down
at him casually from above, then pointed a finger in his direction and fired
a ball of charged plasma which exploded a few steps ahead of him.  The Master
understood the meaning of the gesture and stopped dead in his tracks.  Reaching
into his jacket, he withdrew a jewel-encrusted golden orb and hung it about
his neck on a rusty chain.  He aloft the orb so Achmael could see it.
	`Achmael!  I know who you are and I know what you are,' the Master
shouted.  `Now, do you know what this device is?'
	Achmael aimed his lazily outstretched finger toward the Master again,
but froze when he caught a good glimpse of the Eye.  His eyes widened slightly
as he whispered in awe, `The Eye of Redwage.'  Subvocalizing some ancient
chant, he twirled his fingers about and lowered his cloud slowly back toward
the ground.
	The Master puffed himself up proudly and cradled the orb between his
palms.  `This is the device with which the Time Lords once controlled you and
your brethren.'  The Master looked the storm demon straight in the eyes as
Achmael's feet touched the ground.  As Achmael curled the winds about him and
dispersed the cloud, the Master stepped closer, his gaze burning with the full
force of his will and his hunger for power.  `And now, Achmael, I control the
Eye.  I am the Master and you will obey me!'
	Achmael shifted his weight, moist topsoil squeezing betwen the treads
of his hiking boots as he leaned toward the Time Lord for closer examination.
`Master?' he asked innocently.
	`Yes,' the Master confirmed, breathing a heavy sigh of relief.  `I
am your Master.'
	`Do you move the air with your thoughts?  Can you control the energy
of the skies?'
	The Master's eyebrows narrowed in concern as his gaze intensified.
	`Do clouds form for you?  Do the ice crystals obey your every whim?'
	`This is irrelevant.  I am your Master.  You must obey me.'
	`No,' Achmael responded belligerently.  `I don't think so.'
	`But I am your Master!'
	`Master?  I have no master!'  Achmael laughed aloud.  `My master died
a long time ago, mortal.'  His eyes burned as he approached the renegade,
pulled the Eye from the Master's clutches and threw it to the ground.  The
Master leapt backward in surprise, but was soon held fast by the storm demon's
powerful human hands.
	`What are you doing?  I posess the Eye.  You must obey me!'
	`I obey no one.  I am the master now.'

	`He's expending an awful lot of energy with these theatrics,' the
Doctor commented, stroking his chin.  `Perhaps that's our chance.'
	`It's your move, Doctor,' Sloan said.
	`I've got to get him out of there.'  The Doctor climbed the hill and
out of Sloan's reach.
	`Doctor, you can't!' Jo exclaimed.
	`Jo, I must,' he said as he turned back, noting the fear in her eyes.
`The Master and I...we haven't always been enemies, you know.  Despite
everything that's happened, I still feel a certain responsibility for his
welfare.  I know it's his own stupidity that's gotten him into this mess, but
I must at least try to get him out of it.'
	`All right, Doctor,' the Colonel called up to him.  `What can I do
to help?'
	`Have your men lay down some support fire to distract Achmael's
attention until I can get to him.  Just try not to hit anything, especially
me.'
	`You've got it.'  Sloan lifted his walkie-talkie to his mouth and
barked rapid orders into it.  His men gave thumbs-up signals or responded
with quick affirmatives on their radios, but by the time the short exchange
was complete, the Doctor was already well on his way.
	`Be careful, Doctor,' Jo whispered.

	`What is this?!?'  Achmael's eyes blinked open just inches from the
Master's.  He jerked in surprise, then frowned.  `Why do you still live?  I
should be looking through your eyes at the cold remains of this body!'
	`Fool!' the Master exclaimed.  `I am a Time Lord.  You cannot control
me.'
	`Time Lord?'  Achmael's rage burned again, but his smile returned.
`Pardon me, Time Lord.  I have never killed one of your kind before.'  Achmael
leered at the Master, stepped back and forced a fist to the sky.  As he slowly
opened the hand, the storm clouds directly overhead darkened and swirled
ominously.  `I think it's about time, don't you?'
	A small explosion rocked the ground nearby, knocking both Time Lord
and storm demon off their feet.  Machine gun fire riddled the ground and sky
around them, forcing them down to avoid being hit.  The Master covered his
head and tried to crawl away, then noted the Doctor's approach.  His fleeting
sense of relief turned to instant dismay when he saw Achmael stand up, once
again reaching towards the sky.
	`Doctor, help me!' the Master cried in desperation.
	`Doctor?'  An inhuman roar escaped the former actor's lips as Achmael
turned on his old nemesis.  `You are the Doctor?'  His eyes narrowed as he
examined the canary- and velvet-costumed dandy.  `You have changed again?'
	`As have you, Achmael.'  He motioned the Master aside while he stalled
for time.  `Though as usual, you're up to no good.'  The Doctor could see the
Master moving away now.  Patiently, he tried to reason with his foe and delay
the inevitable as long as he could.  `Put an end to this, Achmael, please.
The killings must stop.'
	`No, Doctor.  They have only just begun.'  He raised his fist to the
brooding storm clouds and called forth a bolt of lightning, which scored the
ground only a few meters from where the Doctor stood.  `I have waited two
centuries for my revenge, Doctor.  Two hundred years.  Do you have any
idea what it's like to spend that much of your life as an animal, condemned
to remain under the sea?'  Achmael stomped forward and looked deep into the
Time Lord's eyes, breathing a fervid effluvium straight up the Doctor's nose.
`Do you?!?'
	The Master stopped some forty meters away and glanced back.  `Doctor,
you're going to get yourself killed,' he swore under his breath, puzzled by
his sudden concern for the Doctor's life.
	`I'm sorry, Achmael,' the Doctor said with slumped shoulders.  `I..I
didn't know.  Stephen told me you had drowned.  We had no idea you could
survive under those conditions.'
	`I do not die so easily.'
	`So I have since learned.'
	Achmael stepped back and considered the Time Lord, pacing ever so
slowly in a circle around him.  `Do I frighten you, Doctor?'
	The Doctor sighed heavily as his eyes followed the storm demon in his
orbit.  `Of course you frighten me, Achmael, but not for the reasons you might
suspect.  When it comes right down to it, I pity you.'
	Achmael stopped and looked up.  The Doctor continued.
	`You're just an overgrown child given a gift of power far beyond your
ability to understand or control.'
	`I do control my power!'  With a flick of the wrist, he called down
a brief rain shower on the Time Lord to demonstrate.  `I control all.'
	`No, Achmael.  You don't.  That's the whole problem.  You know nothing
of restraint, of self-control.  You use your gifts for evil, when you could
do so much good.  You know nothing but your baser urges.'
	Achmael roared again and a pair of lightning bolts rained down close
to the Doctor.  His hair stood on end and he jumped, startled by the static
backblast caused by his proximity to the blasts.
	`Enough!  Your people made me this way.  Now they shall pay, beginning
with you.  You have failed to defeat me before, Doctor.  You know you will
not succeed now either.'
	`Achmael.'  The Doctor and Achmael both turned in surprise at the
interruption.  The Master had returned, his laser pistol drawn and pointed
calmly at the storm demon's chest.  Before the element of surprise could be
lost, the Master pulled the trigger with a devilish smile and burned a wide
smoking hole through Achmael's slender ribcage.  The storm demon let out an
unholy shriek, gasped and clutched at his abdomen as he sank to his knees.
He shuddered for several seconds, then exploded with an agonizing scream that
ended as a whisper as his body fell forward, his body expiring with its final
breath.
	The body of famed actor Tony Bridgewater now lay sprawled in the muddy
Iowan topsoil, his blood mixing with the rain and mud to form a pool of red
clay unlike any this side of Colorado's Garden of the Gods.
	The Doctor looked up from the corpse, shook his head twice, then
tried to wipe some of the blood and mud from his shiny rain slicker.  The
Master looked over at him smugly, but it was the Doctor who spoke first.
	`Now that was clever of you,' the Doctor said, his voice dripping
with bitter sarcasm.
	`You should thank me, Doctor,' said the Master matter-of-factly as
he wiped the tip of his laser pistol clean with a handkerchief and returned
both to jacket pockets.  `I just saved your life.'
	`Did you?'  The Doctor pointed to the storm clouds above, which while
beginning to recede, had not diminished greatly in intensity.  `All you've
done is delay the inevitable.'
	`What do you mean?'
	`This isn't over yet.  All you've destroyed is his body.  In some
form or another, Achmael is still alive and he will return to finish this.'