"I wish I could offer some advice, but too much knowledge is a dangerous thing. Take care of yourselves, and try not to get involved in too many adventures." He smiled lop-sidedly at the Doctor. "After all, you're not as young as you used to be, eh?"

"Don't patronize me," the Doctor snapped.

"Are you going to be okay here?" Vicki asked. "I mean, what's going to happen to the Armageddon Convention and all that?"

Braxiatel shrugged. "Cardinal Bellarmine has done wonders - better than the Doctor himself, I suspect." The Doctor began to splutter, and Braxiatel raised his voice to cover the noise.

"I had these pills ready in case any locals got wind of the Convention. They'll wipe twenty-four hours from the memory of any human being. If you can get one of them down Shakespeare's throat, then we're safe. If not -" he gazed soberly at the Doctor "- then you and I had better change our names and get as far away from here as possible, and pray that our people never ever find us."

The Doctor looked longingly at Braxiatel's control box. "Can I drive?" he asked.