Alexander-257 Tec-64-Beta lives on level 489 neg of the scientific mega-complex. The complex stretches for nearly two kilometres upwards into the clear skies of the planet Naath. It reaches even further into the ground, rooted deep like a giant tooth. Level 489 neg is a kilometre and a half underground. Rumours circulate amongst the Tecs that the Engs live as deep as level 1000 neg, where the filtration pumps work day and night to scrub the air clean of the poisonous gases that seep through from the planet's core.

Alexander-257 met an Eng once. She came in to fix the plasma-spectrometer that he was working with. Tecs and Engs do not normally mix, but the job was in danger of falling into debt-time, so the Sup had authorised an emergency fix. Alexander-257 needed to be there while she was working in order to calibrate the lens, so he stayed on past shift-end when all the other Tecs had gone home for the night. When she was done, she asked him to thumb-print her info-screen. He looked at the screen and saw the job number, the fix-time and her name. She was called Emily-348 Eng-64-Beta. He smiled as he pressed his thumb against the screen to validate her job.

"We have the same secondary and tertiary sur-designations." he said to her.

She smiled back at him as she took the info-screen.

"It's a small mega-complex."

Her smile was wide and warm, and she had green eyes. She winked at him as she left. He remembered thinking that she was taking a chance, acting so informally with someone of a higher designation. He hasn't seen her again, but he thinks of her from time to time.

It is 6 in the morning, and Alexander-257 is getting ready for work. He is not thinking of Emily-348 at this time. He is thinking of his current project, and wondering if he can claw back the time he lost yesterday when the laser-probe mis-fired. He is putting on his white shirt, and the green tie that marks him as a beta-grade Tec. As he is looking in the mirror to straighten his tie, he hears a voice.

"You wear your shirt and tie,
A uniform of conformity,"

He looks around, startled. There is no-one in the room with him. He has one room, with a bed and a wash-unit and a tele-screen.

"But it does not hide the gaping wound
Where they tore out your heart
And squeezed it dry to
Lubricate the wheels of commerce."

He moves towards the tiny air vent, high up on the wall. Perhaps the voice is from another room? They are all connected by the narrow ventilation ducts.

"The great money-machine that
Drips your blood:
It runs on your dreams,
It leaves you old and grey and
Waiting for the pension
That will never buy back what
You gave them for nothing."

The voice is not coming from the air vent. He feels a little scared now, but he tells himself he is being foolish. He thinks about the words, but he cannot understand them. He walks over and checks inside his closet, and even under the bed.

"The Shirt is a Lie,
The Tie is a Fetter,
You are a slave in bondage,
Servicing the beast
As it grinds and
Threshes and separates
The chaff of your soul from
The wheat of your body."

The voice gets quieter as it speaks, until the last few words are barely audible. He stands there, not knowing what to do, listening for the voice. Suddenly he realises the time, and he rushes out, trying to reach the last transport-lift. He makes it with a second to spare, and the other passengers glance at him as he stands there panting for breath. The transport moves off and soon Alexander-257 is hard at work and has forgotten all about the voice.

- - -

In an empty storeroom on level 933 neg a blue box appears, as if by magic. The sensors in the room detect a change in air pressure and the lights switch on and the ventilation kicks in. A door in the box opens and a young woman steps out. She has blonde hair and brown eyes. Like Emily-348 she has a wide, warm mouth, but she is not smiling. She wrinkles her nose and says, "It's a bit stuffy in here." Her name is Rose Tyler: she does not have a proper designation, so there is no way of telling what her job is, or how important she is.

A man steps out of the box. He is tall and thin, with short brown hair and large ears. He is called the Doctor. He has a designation of sorts, but no proper name. He seems to be important, somehow, although he is not wearing a tie. It is all very confusing.

"Ah! The smell of broom cupboard, nothing like it."

The Doctor grins at Rose, and she smiles back. He pulls out a sonic screwdriver from his battered leather jacket.

"Shall we explore?"

Rose pushes down on the handle of the door, and it opens.

"Why not?"

The Doctor looks disappointed as he puts his screwdriver away. He follows Rose out into the corridor. As he shuts the door he hears a faint whisper:

"The thoughts in my head!
They would set you alight"

He opens the door again and looks around the room. There is no-one to be seen.

"Come on Doctor! The TARDIS will be fine."

"Did you hear something?"

"What?"

Rose is already 100 metres down the corridor, waiting for the Doctor at a T-junction.

"Nothing. Probably just mice, or something."

"Which way shall we go? Left, or right? They both look pretty boring."

"Boring?!" cries the Doctor as he catches up with Rose, "Either one of these corridors could lead to excitement, treasure, or certain death."

"Oh yeah? Well, let's not go left then, that looks like certain death to me."

"Chicken."

"Fine, have it your way then."

Rose walks off to the left, and the Doctor grins and follows her.