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"Good morning," he told the guard, "I'm Capt. William Oliver, United States Air Force on temporary assignment to UNIT. I'm supposed to report to someone called the Doctor. Can you tell me where to find him?"
"May I see your pass first, sir?" the soldier asked. The officer drew the card from his pocket and unfolded it.
"It's an old picture, I'm afraid. The only one they had handy.
"It's in order," the soldier said, seeing a perfect pass when he should have seen a crushed milk carton. The officer put the card back in his pocket.
"The Doctor's in the science section," the soldier explained, "in the left wing. Just follow the green stripes on the wall when you go inside. The arrows will keep you going in the right direction."
"Thanks!" the officer replied, and hurried off. He found the laboratory, entered. It was standard except for the blue police box standing in one corner. The officer walked over, ran his hand along the door. "Ah, yes!" he muttered, "The Doctor! I KNEW that name was familiar!"
He heard a noise behind him and turned to see a young woman entering the lab carrying a tea tray.
"Come on out, Doctor!" she cried, "I've got the morning tea. Don't mess with that force field generator all morning. We've got other things to do!"
The woman turned, saw the officer, and smiled. "Oh, I'm sorry!" she apologized. "I didn't know there was anyone else in here! I'm Jo Grant." She sat the tray down and held out her hand.
"William Oliver," the officer answered, taking her hand. "I'm looking for the Doctor."
"He's in there," Jo explained, nodding towards the call box.
"Yes," the Captain said, "a vehicle such as the TARDIS must take a great deal of general maintenance."
"You know about the TARDIS?" Jo inquired.
"Afraid so," the officer admitted. "The Doctor and I met some time ago. He had two friends with him at the time, a young man named Jamie, and a young woman named Zoe."
"Oh!" laughed Jo, "What did he look like?"
"Short, chubby, dark-headed, extremely pleasant."
Jo nodded. "You're in for a bit of a surprise," she continued, "He's changed, somewhat. I'd offer you some tea. There's plenty, but I've only got two cups, and they were the last in the canteen."
"Why, there's a clean one right here," the officer laughed. Turning around, he picked up a glass off the counter, but when he turned back to Jo it was a teacup EXACTLY matching those on the tray!
The door of the Police Box opened. A tall, white haired man in fancy dress emerged. "Can't figure out what's wrong with this force field generator!" he mumbled. "I'm sure even though I made these parts from Earth materials it should sill work!"
"Doctor!" announced Jo, "An old acquaintance has been waiting for you. We were just going to have some tea."
The Doctor looked up. "Oh, good morning!" he said, "Have we met before? I don't recollect...."
Capt. Oliver looked the Doctor up and down, then looked at Jo, who covered her mouth and giggled.
"He's regenerated," she explained. "Time Lords do that. But he's the same Doctor you know!"
"I perceive what you say is true," Oliver answered. "Let us have a look at that, Doctor, maybe I can find the trouble." The Doctor smiled "I doubt, Captain, if you'd even be able to figure out what this is."
"It's a mark five force field generator," the captain commented, "about two grades above what was originally installed in the TARDIS. The last time we met, Doctor, we exchanged racial and technical information. I'll admit, with the passing of time a few things have slipped from my memory, but I am quite sure I can figure out a little toy llike this. They're not all that different from the ones my own people use. By the way, whatever happened to that young man, Jamie, and that charming Zoe?"
"They've been returned to their own timestreams," the Doctor explained, " handing the officer the generator, and still looking at him rather strangely. The officer took his cup of tea and the generator, went over to a bench and with incredible speed began disassembling the apparatus.
Jo and the Doctor watched unbelievingly as he worked. The sound of the opening door made them turn. An officer entered in the uniform of a British brigadier.
"Ah, Doctor!" he said, "We just got a report you might be interested in. It may be The Master. Do you remember Count Frederick Clermore?"
"Yes," the Doctor answered, "He's that chap that was working with The Master a couple of years ago. When I blew up his laboratory he was injured, wasn't he; irriversable brain damage? They put him away in some hospital, somewhere."
"That's him!" the Brigadier agreed. "He escaped last night. They thought it might be The Master's work. Here's the report."
The Doctor read the report. "Doesn't sound like The Master," he argued, "too crude. He would have been far more subtle. And what's this guard's report about a shimmering, golden mass that saved his life? A shimmering, golden mass..." the Doctor muttered, tapping the paper.
"The computer coughed out something else," the Brigadier continued, "also happened last night. A body disappeared from an American air force hospital. A shame, too. Quite a chap! Captain William James Oliver!

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