BBC - Cult - Interviews - Chapter Seven

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Chapter Seven - Chapter Seven

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The Brigadier was sitting at his desk when Sergeant Benton looked around the door. He was staring at a sheet of paper and Benton decided he looked so lost in thought that he'd better go out again and knock.

'Don't bother, Sergeant, I saw you. Come in.' The Brigadier waved him into a seat. Benton lowered himself down and looked across the desk. He had begun working with the Brigadier shortly after the business with the Great Intelligence in the London Underground. When the Brigadier had been promoted and had set up the basic structure of UNIT, Benton had been a private in the regular army. It had been Major-General Rutlidge, the Brigadier's original liaison with the army, who had put John Benton's name forward for the Brigadier's short-list of potential UNIT troops. Both he and Jack Tracy had experience of undercover work, and that seemed to appeal to Lethbridge-Stewart; enough for him to call both men in for a meeting, outlining UNIT'S future role in the defence of Britain. And the world, as it turned out. Both promoted to corporals, they had met Captain Turner and Sergeant Walters, the Brigadier's immediate staff. Maisie Hawkes and Carol Bell had been there from the start, too.

Benton thought briefly of those who had passed through UNIT's ranks. Jimmy Munro, now back with the regular army. Stan Hawkins and Sergeant 'Big' Hart, both victims of the Silurians. Countless squaddies, corporals and technical bods. And at the heart of it all, Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, a man Benton not only respected and admired as his leader, but liked enormously as a person. Benton would never be so gauche as to think of his commanding officer as a friend, but there was a mutual respect between them both that Benton enjoyed.

He was fiercely loyal to the Brigadier and knew that Lethbridge-Stewart was equally loyal in return. After all, the old man had pushed hard to convince Major-General Scobie, Billy Rutlidge's successor, to make Benton up to a sergeant. Slowly, the team that the Brigadier had always wanted had been formed. Apart from non-active corporals like Bell and Hawke, UNIT now had a handful of rotating corporals - Tom Osgood, Jack Tracy and Steve Champion, a couple of sergeants in himself and Mike Yates and even a major, Alex Cosworth, on attachment for six months from the regular army. Cosworth, however, was another non-active officer, brought in to help sort out the administrative side. Benton thought he was OK, a bit of a university snob who was pretty good at pushing pens, but likely to be useless in field action. The Brigadier presumably agreed since Cosworth had yet to leave the confines of the Admin block at the Guildford HQ.

Benton's reverie was halted as the Brigadier pushed the sheet of paper he had been reading in Benton's general direction. Taking the hint, the sergeant picked it up and glanced down it.

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It was a personal letter, from Beech and Co, solicitors, of Putney. It detailed the claims of their client, one Fiona Lethbridge-Stewart, regarding her filing for divorce upon the grounds of irreconcilable marital breakdown.

Benton passed the letter back. 'I'm very sorry, sir.'

The Brigadier harrumphed. 'At least I get the car and rights to see Kate. Very little else.'

'It's good that she's not contesting you seeing your daughter, though.'

'Hmmm. Only because she knows that I'm unlikely to be able to do so very often.' The Brigadier tapped at a framed photograph on his desk with his pen, knocking it onto its back.

Benton could see it showed all three LethbridgeStewarts gathered around a Christmas tree. He guessed it must be two years old, because he knew the Brigadier had been in Geneva all over last Christmas.

'Oh well, back to business. What can I do for you, Sergeant Benton?'

Benton stood up immediately to make his report. 'Corporal Bell has radioed in, sir.' He produced a full transcript of her report and handed it over.

The Brigadier scanned it with professional speed and then grimaced. 'I hope Yates doesn't do anything stupid.'

'No, sir. We don't want to lose our new captain, sir.'

The Brigadier looked up, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

Benton cleared his throat. 'Talk amongst the lads, sir. Bets are on that Mike gets his pips soon.'

'Really, Sergeant? And why do they think that?'

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Benton opened his mouth to give an answer, and then realized he did not have one. 'Don't know, sir. Just idle chit-chat.'

The Brigadier stood up, straightening his uniform. He bent down, putting the solicitors' letter into a drawer. 'You've been with me since the beginning, John. Don't you think that you're in the running as well?'

Benton licked his lips. 'Permission to speak candidly, sir?'

'Of course.'

'It's not me, sir. I know that. You know that. Mike Yates knows that. He's an officer, sir. Like you, it's in the blood. The lads respect him, admire him if you like. So do I. Frankly, I couldn't give orders to someone like him any more than I could to you, sir.' Benton knew he was flushing slightly. 'Really, sir, I'd much prefer it if he was a captain. It would be good for morale, provide a chain of command and help things run more efficiently. Added to that, sir, I don't want that responsibility. I'm a soldier, not a politician. Mike's a better juggler of high-ups than me. I can deal with grunts on parade, but give me one of those bods from C19 or the Ministry, and I'm out of my depth.'

'Good grief, Sergeant.' The Brigadier smiled. 'I don't think I've ever heard you say so much.'

Benton could not help but smile back. 'Been practising this speech, sir.'

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The Brigadier nodded. 'I'll take your thoughts on board, Sergeant, if I get the budget to fund a promotion.' Benton turned to go, but the Brigadier continued: 'Oh, and Sergeant Benton?'

'Sir?'

'Thank you for being candid.'

'Sir.'

'Now,' and the Brigadier was all business again. 'This report of Bell's. If it is the new C19 Blackbird she saw, she recommends getting Parkinson to trace it. According to her, we have its transponder codes fed in.'

'Already taken care of, sir. I'll go and ask Parkinson if he's got a destination yet.'

The Brigadier nodded. 'Thank you, Sergeant. Somehow I thought you might have done that already. Report back to me when you have a location. Then I've got a task for you.'

'Sir?'

The Brigadier pointed at the map of the south coast behind his desk, which Corporal Hawkes had transferred from the communications room. 'I'm going to take one squad to wherever the Blackbird is. I'll try and get the Doctor and Sergeant Yates back safely. However, according to Bell, there was a Silurian with the Doctor. That means that they are using Smallmarshes regularly. I want your squad to rendezvous with Bell and keep an eye out for the blighters. I don't care if you have to stay there for a night or a week, but until I can speak to the Doctor again, we don't know what the Silurians are planning. I want you there just in case they attack. We got caught out last time; I don't want it to happen again.'

'Very good, sir. I'll check up on Parkinson.' Benton saluted and headed back to the communications room, grateful that as a confirmed bachelor he would never have to go through a divorce.

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The three-dimensional schematic hovered in front of her.

Using her pad, Liz could select and illuminate whichever section of the Earth Reptile's physiology she required.

To her right hovered another hologram, this one a wire-frame of the same figure, picked out in green. Every so often, Liz made a slight adjustment to her readings and spoke a command into the pad. The schematic's internal organs would dilate, shrink or move slightly at her command, then she would place one hologram over the other and see if it required any adjustments to the basic body shape.

She had been working one-handed at this for some time now, ninety per cent of her concentration focused on the job at hand. The other ten per cent was thinking about Jana, and the bizarre set of circumstances that had led her here. Jana was clearly a trained assassin; her expert use of a C19-issue pistol left no doubt of that. The fact that she had so casually shot dead this Chukk person, and then taken a pot-shot at Liz herself, conclusively proved that she possessed little in the way of a conscience. Sadly she was dead, and the solution to the mystery of who had employed her would have to wait for another day.

Sula moved into the laboratory as quietly as possible, but Liz was aware of her. Something triggered some kind of warning in her mind, like the time she had seen the Silurian - no, Earth Reptile - in the barn at Squires' farm, or on top of L'Ithe when she and Jana had first arrived. She had learnt to suppress that feeling, the primeval fear of the race. Not just because it would be inappropriate, not to say awkward, if she got the heebie-jeebies every time she saw Sula or Baal, but because it was scientifically important to prove that those fears could be overcome. If mankind and the Earth Reptiles were one day to live in peace (God willing, let it be during her lifetime), then this race-memory thing was going to have to be squashed or people taught to overcome it.

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Sula passed Liz a mug of liquid, taking the pad away and placing it on a tray she held. 'Liz, you must drink this. It acts as a support to the webbing we put on your wound. It backs up the antiseptic.'

Liz looked at the liquid. 'Lovely, but is it safe for mammals like me?'

Sula thought about this. 'I don't know. No mammals have ever been given any to my knowledge. Then again, no mammals had been treated with the webbing and that hasn't killed you.'

'I suppose not. Oh well, all in the name of science. Bottoms up!' And Liz swallowed the contents of the mug in one go. 'If I could have done that with a pint of Guinness,' she said, wiping her lips on her sleeve, 'I could have won a flyer at the Christmas bash.'

Sula just stared at her, obviously not understanding a word of it.

'Never mind,' said Liz. 'Just ignore me. I'm rambling.'

Sula took the mug and looked inside it. 'You were supposed to sip it gently over half an hour.'

Liz frowned. 'Oh well, I'm not dead.' She swapped the mug for the pad. 'Thanks.' Then she suddenly smiled at Sula. 'You and Baal seem to have accepted me as more than just an ignorant Ape all of a sudden. Why?'

Sula's skin seemed to grow a fraction darker, but she did not reply.

'I'm sorry,' said Liz. 'I didn't mean to embarrass you. I just genuinely wondered.'

Sula crossed to the particle disseminator, placed the tray on the floor and activated a viewscreen. On it was pictured a small ape-like mammal. 'Your ancestor,' she said simply.

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Liz stared at it. Living history. Real prehistory rather than a jumble of artistic interpretations made up from fossils. 'My God, it's beautiful.'

'Really?'

Liz glanced at Sula and then back at the screen. 'Aesthetically, no. But scientifically, yes. We could learn so much from you. For hundreds of years we have wondered what the past was like. You were there. You can tell us.' Liz excitedly pointed at the image on the screen. 'Hell, you can show us. There are so many questions that could be answered if we all co-operated.'

'I don't know if the Triad would agree.'

'Sadly, those in power never do. I doubt many of our world leaders would leap at the opportunity either. It's up to ordinary people like you or me to show them how necessary co-operation is.'

'For so long my mother and others like her have taught us, almost bred into us, a total loathing for Apes. You have over-run our world, destroyed so much of its natural beauty. We were taught to destroy you.'

Liz nodded. 'But you see it now, don't you? You see how you and I are working together, co-operating.' Liz pointed at the mug on the tray. 'You say you didn't know if that would work on me. That it might kill me, even. Well, that's the joy of what we're doing: learning together. From what I've gathered from Baal's notes, you haven't been able to sort out your genetic problems, so you kidnapped a human boy and experimented upon him, right?'

'Yes.' Sula look ashamed.

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'But it went wrong, and that's no one's fault. You don't understand our physical make-up any more than I understand yours. Only through co-operation will we get to an answer. The Doctor would have helped you.'

'But can you find the answer?' asked a male voice behind them. Both Liz and Sula turned and watched as Baal walked across the room, his eyes looking at the floor rather than them.

Sula was immediately concerned. 'Baal? What's happened?'

He sighed deeply and took her face in his hands. 'Our mother ordered the cruiser containing Tahni and the Doctor to be destroyed.'

'Her own daughter?' Liz was appalled, not just for Tahni's sake, but the Doctor's as well.

'My mother is, well, beyond reason. You must have heard the alarm chimes. She has taken the fleet to attack the Apes.'

Sula looked shocked. 'But why? What will that achieve?'

Baal shook his head slowly. 'Remember, our father was an elite, a Sea Devil Warrior. They bonded because she admired their ways. She sees extermination of the Apes as the only way forward, even if accomplishing that costs her own life.'

'Who has gone with her?' Liz asked quietly.

Baal shrugged. 'Her followers. Many of our people, more than half I imagine. Few of our generation though - most of the hybrids know better. We had planned our research to find a cure together.' He sat on a seat next to the map screen. 'If we are the only ones to survive this Shelter, we need to find a cure.'

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Liz knew she ought to find a way to warn the human authorities of the impending attack. She also knew that, whatever their current doubts, Baal and Sula would never consent to this betrayal of their people. If she wanted their trust, she would have to earn it. 'Then let me help you,' she said. 'I'm a scientist, my field is chemistry, and I'm a human doctor. No one here is better qualified at least. What have you got to lose? You know your biology, I know mine. Between us, we ought to be able to find a cure for this problem.'

Baal and Sula stared at each other. Eventually, Sula touched his arm.

'Baal, our mother is wrong. What she has done to Tahni is unjustifiable. What we did to that Ape hatchling was unjustifiable. None of those things can be reversed, but we can go forward. Learn from our errors. Liz can help us. Please, let us all be equals now or we'll never leave this Shelter for fear of what we are and what will happen to us.'

Baal stared straight ahead. 'The Doctor asked me if I believed that what I was trying to do justified the way in which I did it.'

'The ends never justifies the means. It's an established science principle. One by which most respectable scientists live,' Liz said.

Baal looked her in the eye. 'Even if it means that ultimately you fail? Even if it condemns you to death because you weren't prepared to take risks?'

'Many of our scientists have argued that,' Liz said. 'It's a question of individual morality. Whether you can live with yourself regardless of the good or bad consequences. Science, Baal, isn't just a job, a vocation. It's a commitment to other people rather than just yourself Other people can live or die by your decisions, your successes or failures, more so than in any other profession.'

Baal walked towards her, holding out both hands. Liz grasped them. 'Together,' he said. 'Please join us and help us find a cure for our illness. Then, I promise, we will find a way to all live together on the surface.'

Liz let his hands go, and watched as he and Sula began discussing rearranging the laboratory. She was dimly aware of their conversations as they worked out ways of adapting their machinery and ways of working to fit in with her.

This is it, she thought. This is what it's all about. What UNIT, the Doctor and the Brigadier are all about. My place isn't with the Doctor, running around helping him repair his TARDIS. My place is working here for a while, helping to mend these people and fostering some kind of relationship between them and us.

Her eye was caught by a white light blinking on and off on one of the panels. Like a star twinkling. She found herself smiling. OK Nanna, this is it. I want to be here, I want to do this, I want to use my training, my knowledge to help these people. And I'm going to.

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The Doctor was getting the guided tour. Along with the entire squad of black-clad guards from the beach, he was being escorted through corridors and laboratories, aircraft hangars and stadium-sized monitoring stations. The Vault was almost a small town buried beneath the Cheviot Hills.

He presumed this was the full VIP treatment, although the place that the pale young man who was showing him around clearly did not receive many visitors. And the Doctor wondered how many of those who entered ever left again.

'Frankly, Doctor,' his host was saying, 'without your contribution, I doubt the Vault would be half as successful as it is. I mean, look. Here we have Cyber-Guns, Nestene energy units, phials of the Silurian plague. You might even recognize that over there. One of our first trophies.'

The Doctor looked in the direction to which the pale young man had pointed. Inside a barred cage was the lower half of a cream-coloured Dalek, stained with green and pitted with bullet holes. The Doctor was sure he'd never seen a Dalek like that, least of all in the twentieth century.

'How fascinating. Now, I've enjoyed our guided tour. When do I get to see how Marc is doing? And where have you taken Tahni?'

The pale young man ignored him. 'And then over here,' he said as he led the Doctor through a steel door and into a room illuminated by a blue light, 'is our cryogenics section. There might be some people here you recognize.' He smiled benignly. 'Let's take a look, shall we?' He punched some buttons on the wall-mounted console. A partition slid back and then up on a hinge, revealing what appeared to be a mortuary. Embedded in one wall were forty drawers - each large enough to contain a body. 'Who's this?' said the pale young man. At the press of another switch, a drawer slid silently out of the wall; inside it was a glass coffin, frosted over. The pale young man peered at the name plaque, then rubbed it with his sleeve. 'Oh, George Ratcliffe. Right-wing leader of a post-war pro-segregation group. Know him?'

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The Doctor just stared back. 'Is there any point to this?'

'How about this one?' Another frosted coffin slid out. 'Melvin Krimpton. I'm sure you knew him.' He waved his arm at the remaining drawers. 'In fact, I'd put a penny to a pound that you knew the vast majority of these people, and were present - in whatever face you wore at the time - during the circumstances that led to their deaths. Up there is one Stephen Weams, over there is George Hibbert and right back here is Mark Gregory, a scientist of my acquaintance. Did you ever meet him? I'm not sure, but does it matter? The fact is, Doctor, that all these people died at the hands of something beyond the purview of normal police or military jurisdiction. Their bodies are kept here for research, to aid the future.' He paused, then laughed. 'I wonder what his parents put in young Stephen Weams' grave? What was faked up to keep even the families of those who died unaware of the Great Intelligence's true evil?'

'Why?'

'Because, Doctor, all this needs to be collected, sifted and sorted. And because with the technology here, this country can be powerful. Imagine if we sent an army of Autons into Northern Ireland. Imagine if we'd helped the Yanks in Vietnam using a War Machine or two. And if this Government doesn't want to stain its lily-white hands, the next one will. Or the one after that. And if the price is right, they can have whatever they want. And, before you ask, it's all legitimate. I work for C19. I work for Sir John Sudbury, your bridge partner. Not that he's aware of any of this, any more than he was aware of what was going on at the Glasshouse. British politicians and civil servants make excellent ostriches, burying their heads and not seeing what they find distasteful.'

The Doctor stroked the back of his neck. 'Are you saying that Sudbury, Scobie and even Lethbridge-Stewart knew about this place?'

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'Good grief no. No one knows, except those that work for me. And who are they? Well, that's my secret, but rest assured, they have infiltrated every walk of life. Politicians, actors, newspaper journalists, shopkeepers and dustmen. People keeping an eye or an ear out, just to keep me happy.' The pale young man replaced the last coffin.

The Doctor glanced around him. There were three doors from the cryogenic chamber, including the one they had come through. There were two guards holding him while the leader stood a little behind; all three were armed. He had no way of knowing whether the pale young man carried a gun, but he placed a silent bet with himself that he did. Never mind.

'Why did you want the Silurian girl?'

The pale young man smiled. 'She is a bonus. We were aware that someone here was feeding information back to Whitehall, possibly to someone within C19 itself. That person contacted an investigative journalist famous in Holland, who could work under cover here. She began using this stolen information which enabled her to piece together what we already knew - that L'Ithe contained something worth investigating. Deciding to let this charade continue, we substituted the journalist with one of our own and, along with your Miss Shaw, they found the Silurian base for us. I've always wanted a Reptile; their genetic structure is so unique.' He leant back against the wall, as if he and the Doctor were discussing an old movie rather than a terrible plan to pervert human science. 'Imagine a breed of super-soldiers, Doctor. Capable of withstanding the extremes of the Antarctic and the Sahara. Able to breathe underwater and on land. The Silurian evolution is far superior to ours. Now that my people have had a chance to experiment on that poor boy you brought with you, I can see how it might be achieved. An army of eugenic fighters, Doctor. We'd rule this whole planet. Westminster would be the heart of the Western world, and eventually the Eastern, too. What do you say?'

The Doctor looked straight at him. 'Just this. Hai!' He flicked both his arms up and then back, catching his guards under their chins, and then slamming his flattened hand against the backs of their necks. Both guards skidded across the floor, dazed. The guard leader went for his rifle but a high kick from the Doctor sent it spinning into the far corner. A second kick took him in the solar plexus and left him rolling on the floor, gasping for air.

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The pale young man shoved his hand inside his jacket but before he could bring his gun up to bear, a rifle shot rang out, sending the gun spinning across the floor. The pale young man grabbed at his stinging wrist and looked down at one of the guards the Doctor had sent sprawling. He was up on one knee, his rifle aimed squarely at his employer's chest. He tossed his head back, and his helmet flew off.

'Sergeant Yates!' The Doctor hurried over to him. 'My dear Mike, I'm terribly sorry to have hit you so hard.'

A little hoarsely, Yates muttered that it didn't hurt. He rose slowly, still covering the pale young man with his rifle.

The guard captain also staggered to his feet, stumbling over to his boss, followed by the third guard.

'You were infiltrated, Leader,' said the pale young man. 'Presumably at Smallmarshes.'

'Correct.' Yates's voice was getting stronger now.

Suddenly the pale young man lashed out with his fist, striking the guard leader's head.

Mike winced, expecting to see the guard fall back down, possibly losing a couple of teeth. Instead, his head was torn from his shoulders with a horrible ripping sound, sending blood and tissue everywhere. The head bounced a couple of times, before coming to rest by the door. A second later, the body hit the floor.

Without hesitation, Mike fired eight bullets into the pale young man's chest, but again the expected failed to occur. The man just smiled, and looked at his shredded suit, a line of smoking bullet holes dotting his chest.

'Cybernetics. He's been augmented by Cyber-technology!' The Doctor pulled Mike away. 'Run!'

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Yates didn't need telling twice, and followed the Doctor through the door behind them. He turned briefly to put a bullet into the electronic keypad on the other side. 'That'll either stop them, or make it easier for them. I wonder which.'

The door didn't open, but a massive rip suddenly split it diagonally, and a suited arm thrust its way through the breach, feeling for the keypad.

The Doctor frowned. 'There's your answer, Sergeant, but I don't think it's going to keep them long. We ought to split up. Can you find us some transport?'

'I can probably find the Blackbird again.'

'Excellent. Get it ready. I need to find Marc and Tahni and get them away. Give me half an hour. If I'm not there, go and get Lethbridge-Stewart, Sir John Sudbury, Scobie and the whole United Nations if necessary. This place needs to be shut down.'

'Right-ho, Doctor. Good luck.' Mike slung his rifle over his shoulder and ran to the left, down a corridor.

The Doctor wondered which way to go. As the door opposite was ripped cleanly off its hinges, and hurled ten feet towards him, his decision was made for him. He ran in the opposite direction.

The pale young man and the surviving guard stood framed in the doorway. 'Kill him! Shoot him down.'

Sergeant Benton and his armed party, now in frill uniform, were waiting on the beach, watching the sea. Corporal Bell was there as well, as were a couple of local police officers including Sergeant Bob Lines.

One of the soldiers, Private Millar was operating a powerful sonar. 'Still approaching, sir. About eight craft plus something I can't identify. ETA approximately three minutes.'

Benton turned to Lines. 'How is the evacuation going?'

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'Complete, Sergeant Benton. Just myself WPC Haggard and PC Attrill are left here.' Lines turned to the WPC. 'Pat, any news from Hastings?'

'No, Sarge, but we've set up road blocks everywhere. Nothing larger than a field mouse could get into Smallmarshes.'

'Good girl.'

Attrill walked over. 'Sarge?'

'Harry?'

'I know this seems strange, but the street lights are going out every so often. Electricity at the station is going on and off.'

'Probably something to do with this lot,' said Private Farley. He was pointing out to sea. Breaking the waves were a series of almost featureless egg-shaped capsules.

Each had just two tiny indentations at the front which suggested that they carried torpedoes of some sort.

'Right men, get prep-' Benton never finished. Breaking the water between the capsules was a massive horse-shaped green creature, covered in scales. Sharp fins ran down from its crested head to its long tail.

'It's a dinosaur,' muttered Private Johnson.

'It's bloody Nessie,' said Corporal Champion, priming his machine-gun. The other soldiers followed suit.

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'You three, get back to the station,' said Benton to the police officers. 'Corporal Bell, go with them. Contact HQ if you can and request back-up.'

'Aye, sir.' Bell led the police officers away.

Farley was the first to open fire, seconds after the previously seamless roofs of the capsules slid open, revealing three Silurians in each. He saw their third eyes glowing red and Private Beaton, nearest to them, dropped his rifle and fell dead. Farley's first burst took two Silurians full in the face and they dropped lifelessly into the water, but the others ploughed on relentlessly.

Benton did not hesitate. 'Fall back, near the cliff-side cottage,' he yelled. Without waiting for further instructions, the soldiers retreated, firing. Another Silurian died, but two of Benton's platoon were killed in return.

Benton unclipped a grenade and Millar beside him did the same. Benton's aim was off, and his grenade exploded harmlessly near the massive bulk of the huge green sea creature. Millar's, however, landed right inside one of the capsules and exploded immediately, sending two Silurians into the air, their bodies alight. A chain reaction started, and two more capsules exploded, presumably killing their occupants.

Benton and Millar scrambled up the cliff to the cottage, but neither could see the other men.

'We can't be all that's left, sir,' Millar said, dropping his sonar tracking pack.

'No, we're not. The others are with Farley over there. Look.'

Farley was on the higher ground further from the cliff

He waved frantically to them.

'What's going on?' Millar wondered.

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Benton turned and saw the sea creature behind them, just disappearing around the back wall of the cottage.

'Stay quiet, Millar.'

Millar flattened himself against the wall, while Benton stepped slightly forward. At that moment, the sea creature's head peered around the wall on its long neck, and for a second Benton saw a spark of intelligence in its eyes. It was sizing them up, he realized, working out where they had gone.

Benton turned back to Millar as the sea creature lifted a front flipper and touched the corner of the cottage. A massive blue flash caused Benton to cover his eyes and, as it faded, he saw Millar, still gripping the wall. His eyes were gone, his skin blistered and puckered. Smoke emerged from his empty eye sockets and mouth, before he pitched forward onto his face.

Benton fired his revolver pointlessly a couple of times before scrambling up the hill above the cliff.

'I can't see a bloody thing through this smoke,' he muttered as Farley helped him up the last few feet.

'We lost Beaton, Ashton and Mitchell, sir, as well as Millar. And I've not seen either Corporal Champion or Private Salt.'

Benton watched as one of his men carefully picked off another Silurian. 'We're going to need to stop that creature before anything else runs into it, Private. You get the flares, light some and see if you can guide Champion and Salt towards us. I'm going to get the heavy artillery out.'

He dashed back to one of the UNIT Landrovers and hoisted a bazooka out of the back. He flicked the catch, loaded it and put two more shells under his arm. He then headed back towards the cliff-top in time to see Farley lighting a flare and hurling it into the fog.

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The flare landed at the feet of the sea creature, and it backed off slightly. Suddenly, emerging from the smoke, he could see Champion and Salt running towards him. Champion saw the creature, but Salt was not so lucky, running straight into its tail and then frying as thousands of volts spasmed through his body.

Benton fired the bazooka, but it exploded harmlessly beside the creature. As Farley hauled Champion up, Benton fired again. Farley too lobbed another flare into the murk. Again, the creature ignored the blast, but moved away from the flare. Benton suddenly dropped the bazooka and snatched the bag of flares from Farley.

'How many?'

'Er, about twenty, sir.'

Benton placed the bazooka missile in the bag and then shoved a grenade in as well, yanking out the pin. He drew back his arm and hurled the bag towards the sea creature. It landed between its legs and then exploded, setting off the biggest fireworks display Smallmarshes was ever likely to see.

The blast wiped out a few Silurians, but it was not that which stopped the sea creature. It was the sudden blinding flash of twenty flares all detonating at once.

The UNIT troops covered their eyes in anticipation, but still saw the huge white flash through their hands. The effect on those on the beach was devastating. The few surviving Silurians dropped to their knees, temporarily blinded. The sea creature itself gave a huge roar and then collapsed dead, crushing a hapless Silurian who had staggered into its path.

The UNIT troops began to move onto the beach to round up their prisoners. Suddenly, Champion yelled a warning as a Silurian at least three times bulkier than the others reared up before Benton.

For a moment, the sergeant hesitated, and Farley saved his life by emptying a clip of bullets into its back. Despite its horrific injuries, the huge Silurian still managed to turn, trying to use its third eye. For a second, it looked as if it would succeed, but its injuries were too severe and it fell, rolling away onto a clump of rocks, where it finally lay still, staring up at the sky with sightless eyes.

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Auggi watched her people being massacred on a view-screen within the safety of her cruiser. Beside her lay two dead Earth Reptiles who had dared to suggest that all three of them join the attack. No, she had decided, that was Krugga's job.

Now she realized that Chukk had been right; the Apes were stronger than she had thought. It was down to Baal now. To develop a better strain of the virus and help her unleash it upon them.

She used the scanner to contact Baal in his laboratory. Seconds later his face appeared on the screen.

'Mother! What are you doing?'

'The Apes have wiped out my fleet, my son. It is up to us now to destroy them once and for all.'

Baal shook his head. 'No, Mother, you are wrong. We will aid the Apes, the humans, and they will aid us. Observe.' He moved out of her line of sight and Auggi saw Sula and the Doctor's Ape-woman friend working together, the image of the hybrid wire frame hovering around them. 'You... you have told her of our secret? Our shame?' Baal moved back into sight. 'No shame, Mother. It is our birthright, and we must work together to cure it.'

'But the Apes have killed your friends.'

'No, they have been killed by you. You led them on a foolhardy mission. This planet is no longer ours. We have to share it if we are to survive. We are like a tiny voice in a crowd of millions. If we have nothing positive to say, then we have no right to wake up the other Shelters.'

Auggi stared at her son. She stared at the two dead hybrids at her feet. She then glanced at another screen, showing the Ape warriors sifting through the carnage. 'I am betrayed on all sides,' she said, and cut the transmission.

She programmed in a new course, away from both the coast and from her Shelter. She would go to a place where no one would embarrass her further, and where she could plan her revenge against the Apes in safety.

The battle cruiser sped away through the waves.

Page 21

Mike Yates threw himself through the door of Blackbird control, much to the astonishment of the two people inside, a black-clad armed guard and a white-coated young female technician.

The guard frowned. 'What's going on?'

'There's been a breakout. That Doctor from UNIT, he's causing trouble.'

The technician stared at the guard. 'See, Lawson, I told you the boss would want to know.' She looked back at Yates, pointing at her radar screen. 'UNIT helicopters, about three of them, surrounding us. They know we're here, somehow.'

Yates brought up his rifle. 'Probably homed in on me,' he said and clubbed the guard into unconsciousness. He trained the rifle on the now terrified technician. 'Where's the Blackbird?'

The technician pointed through a smoked-glass window, and Yates could just make out a dark outline. 'Open the hangar doors. Now!'

The technician pressed a switch and Yates heard a clang as the double doors directly above the Blackbird started to part. Sunlight streamed in.

The technician took advantage of his distraction, whipping out a sidearm, but the movement caught Yates's eye just in time. He feinted to one side and they fired simultaneously.

Yates fell back as the bullet ripped through his shoulder and out the other side. Blood trickled from the wound but, miraculously, it seemed to have missed any main arteries. His bullet found its mark, straight through the technician's heart, and the white-coated woman died soundlessly.

Page 22

He looked back through the glass and could see one of the Brigadier's helicopters coming through the gap, UNIT soldiers leaping out, armed and ready.

He lifted the technician's chair, smashed it through the glass, and yelled, 'It's Greyhound Two. Don't fire!'

By now two of the helicopters had landed, one on each side of the Blackbird. Yates saw Tom Osgood open the hatch of the Blackbird and dive in, probably intending to disable it. Then he saw the even more welcome sight of the Brigadier, pistol in hand. 'That's Yates up there. Someone go and help him down here.'

Mike Yates let himself relax. The cavalry had arrived.

In his plush office the pale young man was shouting at Ciara and Cellian.

'Get him. Kill him. The Doctor must die, and I don't care who gets in your way.

Everyone here is expendable.' Ciara and Cellian nodded and left him. After they had gone, he stabbed at a button on his desk. A picture opposite slid away, revealing a screen. Bailey's face appeared on it.

'Where are you, Bailey?'

'In the east labs. Why?'

'Problems. Clear everything out to the safety zone. I'll meet you there in a couple of days.'

'All right, sir.'

'Oh, Bailey?'

'Sir?'

Page 23

'Make sure you take the Stalker. One day it's going to be used to get the Doctor.'

'Yes, sir.' The screen faded.

The pale young man stared across the room at Sir Marmaduke Harrington-Smythe's dead body. 'Fat lot of good you were. A real waste of time.'

He pressed another button on his desk. 'Sorry, boss.' He straightened his tie, pushed his chair under his desk and opened the wall safe by Sir Marmaduke's body. Inside were microfiches, microfilms and video cassettes. Beside them were sheaves and sheaves of papers, all marked Confidential or Top Secret: Eyes Only. Department of Science and Technology. Or Ministry of Defence. All bore the C19 crest and motto: Quis Custodiet Ipsos Costodes - 'Who guards the guards themselves?' He picked them up and deposited them on his desk.

'Yes, who indeed?' He returned to the safe and pocketed the microfiches and films. He looked at the cassettes, then back at his watch. 'Ah well, I'll try and find some copies in Sir John's offices one day,' he muttered and threw them onto the desk.

With a last look around, he exited his office, checking the door was firmly shut. He counted off another ten seconds and moved forward, allowing a metal shutter to slam down behind him. Then he heard a muffled bang and a roar from within the office as it was reduced to fine ash.

'Cobalt. Always said you couldn't better Cyber-technology.'

The Doctor had battled his way past more than a few guards by the time he found the laboratory he was hunting for.

He pushed the doors open, knocking the surprised guard to one side.

'Hai!' The Doctor delivered a throat jab, and the man dropped unconscious.

Page 24

He stared ahead of him. The room was massive, like a football pitch, but the high walls were covered in monitors, computer banks and switches for every kind of machine. To the left was a bed, on which lay Marc Marshall. Bending over him was a man in a white coat.

In the centre of the room was a chair, rather like a dentist's. Strapped firmly into it was Tahni, struggling as best she could, her third eye covered by a metal strap. A young, dark-haired woman, also in a white coat, bent over her, fixing electrodes to the Earth Reptile's breasts.

On another bed on the opposite side of the room sat a young blonde woman, scribbling frantically on the wall. She kept casting frightened looks back at Tahni and drew as if her life depended on the completion of her master work.

The female scientist looked up. 'The Doctor, I presume?' she said with a distinct American accent.

The man also stopped and looked over. 'From UNIT?'

'Yes. Move away from those people, if you don't mind.' He aimed one of the guns he'd stolen from a guard earlier.

The man complied, but the woman ignored the Doctor's threat. Instead she looked back at the man. 'Get on with the boy, Peter, there's a good chap. The Doctor has morals about using guns on us mere humans.'

The man called Peter ignored her, and instead undid the straps holding Marc down. 'I'm Peter Morley, from Cambridge. I'm a xenobiologist and I'm being forced to work here against my will.'

The woman looked up. 'God, Peter, you are a prat.' She took out a pistol and aimed it at Tahni's head. 'Retreat, Doctor, or your lizard girl-friend gets a fourth eye.' She smiled. 'Oh, I do love Raymond Chandler films.'

Page 25

She was still smiling when the far door burst open and a massive pulse of energy blasted her literally in two.

Tahni instinctively flinched, and even the woman on the other bed dropped her pencil.

Morley ran to the Doctor's side. 'It's the Irish Twins. Ciara and Cellian. What are they doing here?'

The Doctor stared at the newcomers. They both held their right arms outstretched, palms flat. The fingers had dropped away on a hinge, revealing a stubby muzzle emerging from just under the thumb.

'We were one of the Vault's earliest experiments, Doctor,' said Ciara calmly.

'You're not Autons, not in the truest sense, surely?'

'No, not at all,' said Ciara. 'We're humans, but the Vault replaced our blood with the Nestene fluids from the tank at AutoPlastics. These little additions' - she nodded towards her arm - 'were our commander's little touch. The fluids provide the energy for the weaponry. Ingenious, don't you think?'

'You were the forefront of his little hybrid army then,' the Doctor said. 'The ultimate killing machines. Humans with alien technology grafted on.'

'We were his main inspiration. With our armaments and that thing's genes, he would have made an invincible army.'

Understandably angry at being referred to as 'that thing', Tahni began to struggle. Ignoring her, the Irish Twins walked around her until they were face to face with Morley and the Doctor.

'Resistance is useless,' said Cellian.

Page 26

Morley gaped. 'You can speak! You've never spoken before.'

'Never had anything worthwhile to say.' Cellian aimed his energy weapon at the quaking scientist.

'Not much worthwhile now, either,' muttered the Doctor.

Unseen by the Nestene-adapted twins, Marc Marshall had dropped off his bed and was pulling himself painfully across the floor, his progress hampered by his painfully distended skin. He had reached Tahni, and was trying to undo her restraints when the woman on the other bed began screeching, like a terrified chimpanzee.

C\xE8llian calmly swung around, blasting her apart with an energy bolt. Ciara was about to do the same to Marc and Tahni when the door through which they had come was blown off its hinges. Through the resulting gap rushed the Brigadier followed by about thirty UNIT troops.

The Irish Twins threw glances at each other and then barged between the Doctor and Morley, running out through the door by which the Doctor entered.

Leaving the soldiers to follow them, the Doctor rushed to Marc and Tahm, while Morley went to the woman on the bed.

The Brigadier stared down at the Silurian. 'Good to see you again, Doctor.'

'Brigadier, you must warn your men, those two they're chasing are effectively Autons.'

'Right you are, Doctor.' He whipped out his walkie-talkie. 'Greyhound Leader to all Traps. Male and female you are pursuing are highly dangerous. Auton facsimiles. Approach with caution. Use explosives if necessary.' He looked back at the Doctor. 'How are your patients?'

Page 27

Tahni stared back at him. 'I am fine thank you, furry Ape. But the hatchling is dead.'

'The strain was too much for his young heart, I'm afraid.' The Doctor closed Marc's staring eyes. 'He tried his best. Brave to the end.'

Tahni placed a clawed hand on the Doctor's shoulder. 'I am sorry, Doctor. Baal will be too, I know. He has much to learn.'

Morley walked over. 'WPC Redworth is dead. Cellian didn't leave much of her.'

The Doctor looked at the Brigadier. 'LethbridgeStewart, I think you need to get old Scobie, Sir John Sudbury and your Prime Minister up to see the abhorrence that is the Vault.'

'Yes, Doctor. A good idea.' He turned to go. 'By the way, where is Miss Shaw?'

Three days later, Liz and the Doctor were going over some photographs in their laboratory at UNIT HQ.

'That's Krugga,' said the Doctor. 'Poor chap. But what on Earth is that?'

Liz looked at the photo, which showed a massive sea creature. She touched it with the hand that wasn't still in a sling. 'If I didn't know better, I'd say it was the Loch Ness Monster, but I think it's a Myrka.'

Sergeant Benton placed a cup of cocoa on the bench for each of them. 'Yeah, bloody great thing killed a few of the lads. We killed it with the flares. Bright light just seemed to burn its brain out.'

'Do you have to be so graphic, Sergeant?' asked Liz.

Page 28

The Doctor touched Liz's hand. 'How are things on L'Ithe this morning?'

Liz sat on a stool, her good hand in her lap. She smiled tightly. 'Baal and Tahni have taken control. We've returned Sergeant Benton's prisoners, under the terms of the Geneva Convention, and everything seems calm. They've asked me to work with them, to try and find a cure for their problems. I said I would think about it.'

'Oh but Liz, you must,' said the Doctor. 'Think about what you could learn. Think about the thrill of discovering a whole new science. Earth Reptile science. A marvellous opportunity. Oh, Liz, we could do so much for them.'

'We?'

The Doctor coughed. 'Well, obviously, it would be your project.'

She laughed. 'Yes, of course it would be. For a couple of days.' She sighed suddenly. 'I'll have to think about it.'

Before the Doctor could reply, the doors opened and the Brigadier walked in, followed by Yates, his arm also in a sling.

'This lab looks more like a field hospital every day,' the Doctor said. 'What do you want, Brigadier. We are busy in here.'

'Yes, hot cocoa all around, is it? Well, just time to pass on some reports.' He cleared his throat. 'Firstly, as you know, we've made official contact with this Baal character and his associates. Diplomatic overtures are being made and I gather Miss Shaw has been asked to be involved.'

Liz nodded. 'I think we need to discuss that later, Brigadier.'

'Fair enough. Sir John Sudbury has been up to that Vault place. It seems that we hardly saw any of it when we were up there. Whatever was there, if anything, has gone. However, your cryogenic bit has certainly been gutted. We lost track of those semi-Auton types, and Sir John recognized his secretarial aide from your description, Doctor, but has not had sight nor sound of him since.'

Page 29

Liz snorted. 'Oh great, so the bad guys won.'

'Not exactly, my dear,' said the Doctor. 'They lost, but they do live to fight another day. As, it would seem, does Auggi.' He tapped the photos. 'I've been looking for her here, but unless she's in little pieces -'

'Look who's being gory now,' murmured Benton.

'If I may continue, sergeant. She's either in pieces or escaped. I know which I'd put my money on.'

The Brigadier sighed. 'Well, one bit of good news. C19 has taken over direct running of the Glasshouse now, and will appoint an Executive Director very soon. Handpicked by Sir John, so there shouldn't be any more funny business from there at least. Going to a new, secret location, too.'

The Doctor nodded. 'Well, we can all rest easy in our beds then. I mean, Sir John presumably hand-picked his secretarial aide, who ended up being half cybernetic, creating hybrid Autons and goodness only knows what else from our previous battle spoils.'

'Yes. Well.' The Brigadier looked at Mike Yates. 'Oh, yes, and say hello to my new Number Two, Captain Mike Yates.'

'So, Sir John coughed up the cash then.' Benton smiled, shaking Mike's left hand vigorously. 'Good on you, sir. Captain!'

Mike Yates grinned, especially when Liz kissed him. 'Congratulations, Mike.'

'Absolutely, Mike. I'm delighted.' The Doctor also shook his hand. 'Now, if you're all going to have a party, do it elsewhere. Miss Shaw and I have a lot of work to do.' The Brigadier ushered Yates and Benton out.

'Oh, Alistair,' the Doctor said quietly.

'Doctor?'

'I am truly sorry about Fiona and Kate. I hope you find some amicable way to get on with your respective lives without too much pain.'

Page 30

The Brigadier stared at the Doctor, trying not to let any emotion show. 'Well, one of those things, Doctor. Thank you anyway, I appreciate it.' He left.

The Doctor stopped shuffling the photographs and stared into space. 'Poor Alistair.'

Liz kissed him on the cheek. 'Sometimes, Doctor, you can be a good person.'

Regent's Park was serene, surprisingly empty of people considering the heat wave, and those that were around tended to be sunbathing rather than noisily playing football or rounders on the great expanses of greenery.

The Doctor and Liz Shaw had walked for quite some while now, discussing the weather, the pros and cons of the zoo and whether the Park itself ought to fall under the auspices of the rapacious Westminster Council or the more liberal Camden.

The drive there in Bessie had been something of a nerve-wracking experience for Liz; she couldn't bear the traffic in London at the best of times, and it was far worse sitting next to the Doctor as he jumped red lights, cut other drivers up and generally behaved in a way that Sir Robert Marks would have had kittens about. They had narrowly missed scattering a group of tourists gathered around Nelson's Column and had honked loudly at a couple of young men in sheepskin jackets and Lautrec-style fedoras, one of whom Liz was positive was David Hockney. The Doctor had yelled something about how one day Trafalgar Square would be largely pedestrianized and therefore he was making the most of it, but Liz was not too sure how serious he was. Every so often, he would reveal a bit of foreknowledge, then wrap it in a swaddling of exaggerations until you could not trust anything he had said.

They had sped up St Martin's Lane, across St Giles Circus and cut into Tottenham Court Road. Liz had pointed out that this was hardly the most direct route to the park, but the Doctor replied that he enjoyed having company in Bessie and was making the most of it. Liz found herself incapable of ruining his pleasure. And yet there had been something in the way he had said that... a sadness? A resignation?

Page 31

Could he have guessed? No. No, he was not that sensitive to other people's feelings, surely? And yet it might explain his eagerness to take her to London in the first place. Why he let her choose the Park and arrange the picnic.

And why he had even contributed a rather glorious bottle of Bulls Blood from something called the TARDIS vineyard. Another exaggeration, of course.

Or was it? Having finished the picnic, they had set off on a walking tour of Regent's Park, avoiding the Zoo, not just because of Liz's disapproval of it, but because it reminded the Doctor too much of what he had just witnessed in Northumberland.

Conversation inevitably turned to their lives, their pasts and, hopefully, futures. As they talked, Liz began to see a warmth, a compassion emerge from the Doctor's usual veneer of sarcasm and cynicism. She suddenly realized how little she knew him.

For the last eight months, ever since that bizarre visit to the Cottage Hospital in Essex where the Brigadier had seen an unfamiliar face on someone who recognized him immediately, Liz had got to know the Doctor as a colleague, trusted and respected, but that was all. She could not have put her hand on her heart and said she actually liked the man. Time Lord. Whatever. They just happened to work in the same room in the same building. But now, as they wandered through London's most regal park, and he pointed at flowers, trees, shrubs and woodland animals, noting each one's name and history with a frightening encyclopaedic knowledge and enthusiasm, Liz realized she felt a real regret.

'I wish we had been friends. Real friends. The sort of people who, oh I don't now, had dinner. Played Scrabble. Went to the pictures.' Liz had stopped, thinking the Doctor would think her foolish.

'Had been?' he had said after a few seconds. 'I take it that I've guessed correctly. You're going?'

Until then, Liz had not honestly been sure. Her logical side said she had to get away from UNIT before it stifled her, both mentally and in terms of motivation for her work. Yet, as he said those few words, Liz was overcome with a feeling of nostalgia. Of wanting to see those other worlds, other places he spoke of so often. She wanted to shake hands with an Alpha Centaurian table-tennis player. To play hide and seek with a Refusian, or say hello to a Delphon with her eyebrows (and she had even caught herself practising in the mirror one morning).

Page 32

'Yes,' she heard herself say. Then, more strongly, 'Yes, I am.' Why did she want to cry suddenly? Why was she upset? He infuriated her, made her own hard-fought and hard-earned knowledge seem so inadequate. There were times she wanted to shove his teeth down his throat, wrap a Bunsen burner lead round his neck or just take Mike Yates's service revolver and put a bullet through his alien temple. But as she looked into his blue eyes, with their unique mixture of childish enthusiasm and centuries-old wisdom, she knew her own eyes were welling up. 'I'm really sorry, Doctor, but I have to...'

'Why?'

'Because... because. Just because.' She was aware her voice was rising. 'Because of you. Of me. Of the Brigadier. Of everything. A teenaged male has just died at the hands of the people who have been paying my salary for nearly a year.'

'Oh. Is that all?'

Liz froze. That was it. That was the excuse. He had lit the fuse, touched the red button, blown out the. . . well, whatever, he'd gone too far. Liz did not keep down either the volume or the bitterness.

'All? Is that all? You heartless bastard, Doctor. He was a kid. Just a kid and that... that creep at C19 was responsible for his death. And all you can say is "is that all?"'

She was sobbing now, her yells emerging as a hoarse whisper rather than the outraged screeches she heard in her head.

'At last. At last, I'm seeing the real Elizabeth Shaw. It's taken until now, but she's there.'

Liz slowed her breathing, holding back her tears. 'What, what do you mean?'

The Doctor took her shoulders, ignoring her attempts to shake him off. Eventually she gave in.

Page 33

And he smiled. The most radiant - no, beautiful -smile she had ever seen him wear. 'You, Liz. Not the detached scientist. Not the calm, collected and efficient UNIT Doctor Shaw. You referred to Marc as a "teenaged male". You talked in professional terms. Upset you may have been, but you were still holding back. Then you finally called him a kid. You even swore. I've not heard that before.' He sank down to the grass, gently pulling her with him, and she sat, cross-legged, opposite him. He began plucking odd blades of grass, as if embarrassed.

And if he wasn't, she certainly was.

'I realized not that long ago that I didn't know very much about you, Liz. As you say, it's been all work and no play. That's my fault. And if you're going back to Cambridge, then the opportunities to mend that breach are going to be few and far between. But for what it is worth, I value you. Your judgements, your ideas and your ethics. You've been my calm in a storm. My white when I've been black. I don't think either of us realized how much I've relied on you over the last eight months. Eight months, two weeks and four days to be exact.' He held out his hand. In it was a necklace made of grass, intricately interwoven. Sturdy but fragile-looking. 'What will you do?'

Liz swallowed as she gently took the proffered necklace. 'I'm going to spend some time with Jeff Johnson. He's got a place in Cambridge, somewhere to stop over until I find my own place. I've been asked to return to my old college, to restart some of the projects I abandoned when the Brigadier hijacked me.' She shrugged. 'I'm going to apply for a grant to research genetic disorders. I have agreed to help Baal and Sula find a way to cure their condition and extend their life-spans. And even if I can't help them directly, we know there are more Shelters out there. More Silurians, Earth Reptiles, whatever, who need help adjusting to our climate. Our pollution. Our diseases. And I feel that what we learnt from Marc Marshall, from what happened to him, could be invaluable in helping our own children with polio, cancer, leprosy, whatever.' She looked the Doctor straight in the eye, and his smile broadened. 'I suppose what I'm saying is that I'm going home. To do something. To achieve what I can't achieve as your assistant. You don't need me to pass you test tubes, and tell you how brilliant you are.' She smiled back. 'We both know that already.'

He nodded. 'Do you want a lift back to your flat?'

Page 34

Liz looked around her. People were still sunbathing. A few were walking. A couple of children ran by and one careered into her, fell on its face and began to cry. She stood up, picked the little girl up and smiled as she passed her back to her distraught mother.

'Heaven help us, maybe I'll get married and have children.' She looked down at the Doctor, who had remained seated, but he didn't catch her eye. He was watching a caterpillar crawl over the back of his hand,' twisting his wrist slowly so it always had more ground to cover. 'No, thanks, Doctor. I'll take the Tube.'

'Goodbye, Liz,' he said, still not looking at her.

She was going to cry again. Real tears now, not rage, frustration or anger. Not tears of bitterness. Something far better. Far more important. 'Goodbye, Doctor. Will... will I see you tomorrow if I come by to get my things?'

The Doctor was still staring at his caterpillar. 'No,' he said quietly. 'I'll explain to the Brigadier later today.'

'I'm off to help sort out the Cheviots with our newly promoted Captain Yates.'

Liz pulled her handbag tightly over her shoulder and shrugged. 'Well, then I. . . well...'

'Goodbye, Liz.' The Doctor finally looked up. 'We will meet again, I promise you.'

'We'll catch that film, eh?' she said brightly. The Doctor returned to the caterpillar. 'Who knows?'

With a last look at the top of his head, Liz straightened up and walked away, towards Regent's Park underground station.

The sun was shining brighter than she could ever remember as she approached the road. She allowed herself one final look back, one final image to be placed in her gallery of memories.

The Doctor, lying outstretched, his hand moving as he continued to play with his caterpillar.

'God bless you, Doctor. I'm really going to miss you.'

And she crossed the road, determinedly walking towards her future.