The moment came.
'Air on number three engine.' Captain Stapley gave the order in a calm, clipped voice.
Tegan released the valve. There was a hiss like a soda syphon. She prayed that not too much air was escaping from the makeshift connection.
'Start number three engine.'
From the right hand side of the airfcraft came a dull whine.
'Start number two engine.'
Another deep snarl from the left of the plane.
'Air off. Get Tegan in.'
The air jets were screaming now, and Tegan had her hands over her ears as Bilton waved to her. She pulled the feed clear and ran for the door.
'I want reverse thrust on three and four so I can turn the aircraft.'
The engines roared as the plane rotated anticlockwise.
The Captain was giving his final briefing to his First Officer and Engineer when the Doctor arrived on the flight deck. 'I will abandon takeoff, prior to V1, only on the loss of two engines ...'
'Ready to go?' asked the Doctor.
'Strap yourself in for takeoff will you please, Doctor,' ordered Captain Stapley. He turned back to Bilton and Scobie.
'At V2 we will maintain our climb-out at theta two under full power.'
Captain Stapley looked ahead at the frozen mudflat. No one at Toulouse or Bristol ever dreamed she would have to come unstuck from that. He glanced over his shoulder at the Doctor. 'Cross your fingers.' He beamed the merest smile in the direction of Bilton and Scobie. 'This is it, gentlemen.'
The Captain's right hand rested on the four throttles. 'Three, two, one
...' He counted the seconds. 'Now.' He pushed the throttles hard against the end stop.
The idling turbines surged to a full-throated roar. The great silver creature struggled forward.
There were rolling. Faster, faster. A bit of feedback already shaking the stick.
'Airspeed building.'
Four green lights on the instrument panel; afterburners coming in.
Flame from the four Olympus engines; full power.
Faster, faster.
'One hundred knots.'
'Power checked,' called Scobie.
'V1,' called Bilton.
One hundred and seventy knots and building, Alpha Charlie rocketed down the mudflat. No stopping now; it was takeoff or crash.
The passengers in the cabin had never known such a buffeting. Captain Stapley, hands on the shaking control column, felt every bump from the primitive runway. Bilton, eyes on the airspeed indicator, willed the needle to the next marker.
Five hundred yards of runway left. A rocky hillside rushing closer. One eight seven, one eight eight, one eight nine, one ninety knots ...
'Rotate,' called Bilton, and Captain Stapley eased the column towards him.
Concorde Golf Alpha Charlie lifted her nose skyward, careered a little further on her main wheels, and was airborne. Four vapour trails streaming behind, she soared above the Citadel.
Captain Stapley was as excited as a child. 'What did I tell you, Doctor,'
he shouted jubilantly. 'Finest plane in the world!'
The Doctor just managed a smile. There was a moment as they thundered towards the rocks that he wished they had gone by TARDIS.
'Gear up,' called the Captain. Andrew and Roger, who had shared the Doctor's feelings, grinned sheepishly at each other and set about the routine business of maintaining the climb. 'Where to now, Doctor?'
asked Stapley.
The Doctor extricated himself from the jump seat, leaned between the two pilots and started to programme the flight computer.
Tegan and Nyssa wondered how the Doctor was going to get them all back to the twentieth century. They had certainly never seen him enter such elaborate coordinates. He stood up and thought for a moment, checked, double-checked, and corrected a setting.
'Now.' The Doctor looked at the girls. 'As we dematerialise, we reverse the process of the time contour and kick Concorde back on its original flight path ...' He sounded very confident. But as he activated the controls, Tegan couldn't help noticing he had his fingers crossed.
The dematerialisation of the TARDIS had an immediate effect on the flight deck.
'Centre of gravity's shifted,' called Roger as he instinctively corrected the trim of the aircraft.
But the alteration in payload was not the only change. 'The radio navigation's working!' shouted Andrew delightedly.
Captain Stapley scanned the dials. One by one all the instruments were coming back to life.
The radio crackled. 'Golf Alpha Charlie, permission to descend to three five zero.' His voice betrayed none of the emotion he felt. They might have been for a joyride round the Bay of Biscay. But there was a roguish smile on his face as he turned to Roger and Andrew. 'We're back!' he said.
Meanwhile the TARDIS had taken good care of the Doctor, Tegan and Nyssa. The door opened and they peeped out at the hurly-burly of Heathrow. It was hard to believe, with the screaming chorus of jets and the reek of aviation fuel, that this was the same location as the Citadel.
'We appear to be on time for a change,' observed the Doctor optimistically, though the significance of this escaped the two girls.
Nyssa watched in amazement as a jumbo lifted into the sky with an ear-splitting screech. 'What a funny way to travel,' she shouted above the din.
'Kind of fun, though,' said Tegan, feeling a pang of nostalgia that quite surprised her.
Nyssa had never seen that faraway look on Tegan's face before. 'You miss it, don't you?'
'Oh, I don't know.' It was a while before Tegan turned from watching the activity on the runway. 'It's not exactly dull with the Doctor.'
Their sentimental tete-a-tete was not to continue. Two policemen were hurrying towards the TARDIS.
'Doctor!' called Nyssa in dismay.
To the girls' surprise, the Doctor looked up in the air. 'What we need,'
he said, studiously ignoring the approach of the Law, 'is a diversion. And with a bit of luck, not to mention judgement...'
Tegan wondered why the two constables had stopped. They too were looking upwards.
'Look!' shouted Nyssa.
In the sky, above the TARDIS, shining brighter than Haley's Comet, was a Corinthian column.
'The Master's TARDIS,' cried Tegan. She looked at the Doctor, but he was already running into his own TARDIS.
'The Master can't land,' cried Nyssa as she watched the Doctor frantically punching in new coordinates.
'No. Same coordinates as the TARDIS. But we got here first...' He gave a deep sigh. 'Just!'
The two constables had been surprised to discover a police box outside the Terminal building. The subsequent appearance in the sky of a pillar, of fire caused the younger man to wonder if the Day of Judgement was at hand. His older colleague suspected a few too many at lunch-time.
Neither of them was reassured by the disappearance of the illicit box.
But at least the shining column had vanished as well.
'It's gone,' said Nyssa, watching the TARDIS screen.
'Knocked back into time-space like a straight six into the pavilion,'
declared the Doctor with great satisfaction.
Nyssa's face suffused with sadness. 'The Xeraphin will never be able to regenerate.'
The Doctor smiled. 'They stand a much better chance on their own planet,' he said quietly.
'You've sent them to Xeriphas?' She was amazed. 'But the radiation!'
'That was millions of years ago. The atmosphere will be perfectly clear now.' If it was possible for the Doctor to sound vindictive, he did so now as he added: 'Not a very nice climate for the Master, though.'
'He'll just take off again.'
'I think,' replied the Doctor mischievously, 'that with the extra energy on board, the temporal limiter
will need replacing.'
'He's stuck on Xeriphas?'
'Yes,' said the Doctor, earnestly. 'And I hope it's for good.' But he couldn't quite keep the doubt from creeping into his voice.
The Doctor moved back to the coordinates. The TARDIS was now cleared for takeoff. But there was no stewardess on board.
'Where's Tegan?' he asked.
Tegan rushed through the teeming crowds of Terminal Three. It was now or never. 'I hate farewells.' Those were the Doctor's own words.
She looked at the departure board. Singapore, New York, Cape Town, Honolulu ... Like the voice of conscience, the tannoy burst into life.
'Departure to Sydney, Australia. Flight 342...' She tried not to be sentimental. She had a career to think of, an exciting future with the airline. The sky was the limit... Well, Brisbane, anyway.
The debriefing in the Controller's office was not going well. At least, it was not going well for Douglas Sheard.
'The airline, not to mention Whitehall, will need some explanation for the loss of Golf Victor Foxtrot.' He was not used to having to speak so severely to senior operational staff. But the three crew members smiled patronisingly at him.
'We've rescued the passengers and crew.'
'And got our own aircraft back from a time warp.'
Shears fumed. 'A time warp indeed!'
'The Doctor was absolutely right. We've been away for three hundred million years.'
Sheard choked back his anger. Their insolence was insupportable. 'You were only missing for ten minutes,' he retorted.
Roger Scobie gave a cry of dismay. 'What about the overtime!'
'What about Victor Foxtrot!' shouted the Controller.
'Victor Foxtrot was never really lost. Should be on the other side of the sewage farm
The Controller was saved from a thrombosis by a phone call from Security.
'Not that police box again!' he protested.
The police box had indeed returned, and with it an extremely suspicious-looking young man.
'Really, officer,' the Doctor blustered to the constable, 'we're just in transit, as it were ...'
'You're amazing, Doctor!'
The Doctor, glad of the interruption, looked up to see Stapley, Bilton and Scobie approaching, in the company of a very short-tempered Airport Controller.
'Now just a moment, sir!' The constable, whatever the reason for its coming and going, was not having an unauthorised police box on his patch.
'You know my friend the Controller,' said the Doctor quickly. 'I'm sure he can give you a full-explanation.' The Doctor smiled disarmingly. 'I'll just make a quick telephone call ...' He shuffled towards the TARDIS.
That'll clear the whole thing up.' He dodged inside and slammed the door.
'That police box,' said Captain Stapley to Sheard, 'is really a spaceship in disguise.'
Sheard took a sharp intake of breath.
'It's called the TARDIS,' chipped in Andrew.
'TARDIS? TARDIS?' snarled Sheard.
'Travels in time as well,' added Roger Scobie, not wanting to be left out.
Sheard decided the joke had gone far enough. 'Gentlemen,' he announced. 'If you persist with this flippancy, it will be time to talk of disciplinary action.' He looked round. There was the most peculiar noise. Not an engine the Controller had ever heard before. Something was very odd. That police box was growing paler.
And so did Douglas Sheard; because the police box ... disappeared.
'Happy landings, Doctor.' Captain Stapley raised his arm in an affectionate salute.
'Happy landings,' said a plaintive voice at his elbow. Tegan looked at the empty space and a tear ran down her cheek. How she wished she hadn't dithered in the Terminal building.
'Hello,' said the Captain, 'I thought you were going with the Doctor.'
'So did I,' said Tegan.