Power, Corruption and Lies

by DG Johin

An experiment on a colonised planet goes wrong. The Doctor and Ace marooned in space. Who are their rescuers and what do they want? And what of the mysterious SkyLights?

Power, Corruption & Lies

a Doctor Who novel

by DG Johin

This is not an official Doctor Who novel.

The author doesn't own Doctor Who or any of the characters featured in this story.

Power, Corruption & Lies is a Seventh Doctor adventure.

DG Johin currently resides in Second Life.

"Many a small thing has been made large by the right kind of advertising." - Mark Twain

PROLOGUE

An inevitable mixture of tension and excitement filled the empty chamber. If the experiment worked as predicted, The Scientist was going to shout it to the universe.

Or maybe not because the next logical step would be to try his experiments out on a real, living person and that would probably attract too much of the wrong sort of attention.

There was no doubt that The Owner desired to be the first, as he put it, ' to have a go' but because the project was still at the experimental stage, he also risked being the last.

Just as worryingly, there lay a suspicion at the back of The Scientist's mind that The Owner desired to reap the resulting benefits for himself alone, and that the rest of the bi-solar system were not even going to know about, much less gain from, any potential breakthrough.

However, that decision was not The Scientist's to take because, he convinced himself, scientists had to stay away from politics.

This was a point of view that he'd had to think about recently when one of his more vocal students, whose name was Mikorn, announced that, 'If scientists leave politics to politicians they are conniving with them!'

It wasn't that The Scientist was unsympathetic to this opinion, despite the way it had been almost spat at him. The problem for The Scientist was more practical: that if scientists began interfering in politics, then politicians would start to interfere in science.

Sure enough, he had said, The Owner, an entrepreneur and politician, could be regarded as 'guilty' of intervention through his patronage of The Scientist's work; on the other hand, The Owner wasn't carrying out the experiments himself – there was a clear demarcation of roles – so he wasn't interfering as such…

Not really, he wasn't…

The Scientist gave up this train of thought in favour of something less burdensome: what is the gravitation index of an asteroid passing over the equator of a moon, which is itself passing around a planet that is in turn spinning around two suns? Not quite child's play but neither was it particularly challenging for The Scientist...

So, to make it harder, he asked himself, what would be the case if this was to take place in the fifth dimension? Or the 10th? Could such a question make sense in the first place? And if so, what relevance could it possibly have?

The answer, of course, was none; it was merely a kind of conundrum that The Scientist regularly liked to set when alone or with close friends and colleagues for his own personal amusement.

In the brightly lit room, walled by glass and under the glare of cameras, The Scientist placed a green plant then covered and sealed it with a turquoise dome. He glanced at The Owner and feeling the need to say something – anything – told him, 'I hope we haven't created a monster.'

The reaction of The Owner was typical of the man. To start with, he didn't really understand the comment or why The Scientist – or any scientist – would be so flippant at such an important moment.

The Scientist could tell from his face that The Owner had briefly imagined a large-leaved plant bursting through the dome with a long, green stalk, wrapping itself around his throat and crushing the life from him, going on to devour everyone and everything in its wake.

But of course, The Owner, once he'd belatedly worked it out, merely giggled.

The Scientist smiled patiently and, wiping his hands on a cloth, politely indicated for The Owner to lead the way up and out of the chamber.

An unlikely couple, the two elderly men, one dressed formally in dark grey, the other in a white laboratory coat, walked silently up the steel steps to a circular observation gallery. They turned towards one another then sat awkwardly to wait.

The observation gallery looked comfortable and even contained soft furnishings; light browns and yellows and lights above them glowed a warm orange.

The two men were protected from harmful rays not just by the anti-radiation cream that everyone on the planet had to wear these days but also by thick reinforced glass layers.

'Are we ready?' asked The Scientist.

'I am,' replied The Owner.

The Scientist flicked dozens of switches and turned dials clockwise and anti-clockwise. Next, he pressed a tiny button on a console and switched-on a bank of monitors, some showing the turquoise dome, others a wide array of figures and charts.

'Would you like to begin the experiment?' asked The Scientist, his finger pointing to a larger button, the size of a fist.

The Owner glanced back at him then looked at the console. 'To the future,' he declared and placed his palm on the button.

There would now be a short wait, whilst the machines warmed up and ran self-checking tests, after which the experiment would proceed, without further need for external intervention.

'At this point, all that we can do is to observe,' The Owner said needlessly.

The Scientist had predicted that the experiment would take Half-an-Orbit to complete. Stop the experiment too soon and the plant inside would not be fully developed; stop it too late and instead of a plant, they would find ashes, if that.

The two men merely had to sit and wait - and wait some more. They could have gone away to eat or sleep or both, but the special occasion cried out for their presence and supervision.

The Owner was used to getting what he wanted quickly. As a child he could never understand why anyone would bake a cake slowly when machines could produce one in an instant. Patience was literally a waste of time for him. He would grow bored and frustrated, start picking arguments, and try to find ways of doing something quicker.

Invited to The Owner's residence for in informal lunch, cooked by The Owner himself no less, The Scientist had been concerned to see The Owner frequently lift the lid of a saucepan to see whether the food was cooked, leading The Scientist to wander whether his boss might want to raise the dome, to peek inside, in the same anxious way.

The monitors on the observation console showed that an enormous amount of energy was being employed then, as levels grew, that there was a slight possibility of explosion. However the shields were capable of holding out against forces ten times as strong. It is normal, The Scientist reminded himself, that experiments have to be repeated time and time again, making little adjustments before and after - before anything meaningful emerges. He just hoped that The Owner would understand this.

When the explosion did come, the effects were not of a nature that could have been predicted.

Without destroying any of the structures around them, the two men were rendered unconscious.

Everything else, even the plant, was left intact.

Chapter 1

The interior of the TARDIS would occasionally change both its look and feel. It changes according to mood, Ace decided, given that the Doctor's two completely different explanations had thus far proved unsatisfactory.

For years, whatever 'years' were these days and whatever the term 'days' meant any more, and whatever 'any more' meant, and… it was so confusing to Ace that she just gave up and got on with it…

The TARDIS had once been a boring white kitchen-like room with 'old-fashioned' levers and buttons, and then it had become all dark, metallic and mysterious. Recently the TARDIS had been back to what she called, The Retro Look, only to once again 'go all gothic' on her.

According to the Doctor, the TARDIS had a mind of its own and there was nothing he could do about it, but Ace began to wonder whether this wasn't just another of the Doctor's tales. To her the changes were a source of fascination; to the Doctor, it was as bland as redecorating the living room.

Another phenomena Ace had never got used to was what she continued to describe as 'jet lag'. When she first came to stay in the TARDIS, she tried to conform to 24-hour patterns of sleep and wakefulness but soon began catnapping here and there and was never able to re-establish a pattern. To make matters worse, it appeared that the Doctor never slept at all.

Entering the consol room, Ace found the Doctor on his knees and talking aloud. She had just got out of bed, where she had been restless due to a dull sensation of toothache that had recently made eating and drinking cold food and liquids, quite sore.

'Morning Doctor…' she said as cheerfully as possible, not that she felt cheerful. 'Talking to yourself again?'

'Talking to the TARDIS actually,' he replied tersely.

'It's usually the same thing,' she said under her breath.

'Not exactly, no,' replied the Doctor, who'd heard her anyway.

Ace was slightly embarrassed and changed the subject quickly. 'Don't you ever sleep?'

'I've told you: only if I need to.'

'Don't you ever want to?'

'Well… Yes… I suppose. But I'm always too busy.'

'With what, now?'

'The TARDIS – can't you see?' The Doctor looked dumbfounded and this just made Ace feel – albeit briefly – like the stupidest person in the whole universe. 'It needs a lot of attention you know.'

'Didn't you once say that it can take care of itself?'

'Yes, but sometimes it forgets.' He looked over to her as if to say, Is that all?

'I see,' she said. 'At least, I think.' In fact, she didn't see at all.

'I think, therefore I am,' said the Doctor for no apparent reason.

'Doctor?' asked Ace having left a suitable pause.

The Doctor said, 'Yes', but in a very patronising way, suggesting irritation so Ace said, 'Never mind.'

'Yes, never mind. It will all take care of itself.'

'So, where are we off to now?'

The Doctor thumped the side of the TARDIS console three times. 'Where would you like to go?'

Was the Doctor really asking her advice? 'You tell me,' she said, unused to taking such decisions.

The Doctor placed the tool used for making the banging sound on the floor and, wiping his hands, got to his feet. 'What do you fancy doing?'

This is new, Ace thought: the Doctor insisting on her making a decision. It was an opportunity not to be missed. She probed an upper right molar tooth with her tongue. 'Well actually, I could do with going to the dentist'.

Before the Doctor could reply, the TARDIS shook violently.

Ace's first reaction was to think that the Doctor had absent-mindedly done something to the TARDIS and that she would get the blame for distracting him with 'trivia'. He had been moody over the past few, what she used to call, weeks.

'WHAT'S HAPPENED?' yelled Ace as the TARDIS slightly shook again then fell silent.

'It's very odd. That's all.'

Ace felt anxious, not because she felt in danger, but because the Doctor was always so slow to offer explanations.

'We appear to have materialized,' he announced finally.

'Have we been hit by something?' It seemed to Ace that they had.

'I see,' said the Doctor, as if nothing significant had happened. 'The TARDIS has decided the next destination for us.' He clapped his hands. 'You'll have to decide faster the next time I ask you.'

Ace wasn't convinced. Was this another one of his little games? She didn't find it very funny, not this time of the so-called morning, not with toothache. She wished she'd stayed in bed.

The Doctor and Ace been stuck inside the TARDIS for longer than usual - at least that's how it seemed - and as much as she admired him, the Doctor could drive Ace nuts on occasions.

'I worry about it when the TARDIS decides,' she announced. 'It always spells danger.'

'Not necessarily,' replied the Doctor.

Ace felt that he was contradicting her on purpose. If she said black, he would say white and so on. 'If you're lucky,' continued the Doctor, 'the TARDIS has read your mind and taken us to a sunny island paradise.'

'And if we're unlucky?' Ace yawned.

Smirking, the Doctor replied, 'It's taken us to the opposite – somewhere like… Luton.'

'Where?'

'Luton. It's on Earth, near where you lived, near London.'

'Oh, yes, I remember,' Ace said, shaking her head. 'Unfortunately.'

The Doctor grinned and looked down to fiddle with the console again in a way that suggested he was trying to pretend he knew what he was doing. Trying and failing, thought Ace.

'Doctor?' called Ace, after a minute or two of taps and beeps and typical console sounds.

The Doctor ignored her. He was making such a show of things again.

'Doctor?' Ace repeated, because she had something important to ask.

The Doctor raised his left hand to call for silence then, with the index finger outstretched on his right hand, he lowered his arm and noisily tapped a single button. Spinning one-hundred and eighty degrees, he watched as a wall-monitor opened.

Ace regarded this behaviour typically melodramatic, as she did his subsequent, 'Let's see where we are on the monitor, shall we?'

'Where are we?' was all Ace wanted to know.

'That's strange,' said the Doctor, ignoring her, 'I've never had a fault on the monitor before. First time for everything.'

'You mean it's not working?'

'Seems not.'

'Isn't there another way? A window?'

A smile began to break out but the Doctor suddenly looked startled as if he'd remembered something important.

'Oh, for pity's sake. I c-c-c…' the Doctor was stuttering for the first time since she'd met him.

'What?! What?!' asked Ace with a sense of concern.

'Well Ace, good heavens. We seem to have materialized in empty space.'

It took the Doctor long enough to say it, she thought. 'Is that all?'

'Well, it could become a problem if we can't move.' He spoke with a hint of sarcasm and began examining the console again, moving to its left as though he were looking behind a painting.

'What's that thing, glittering?' Ace said, glaring at a source of light emerging from the bottom corner of the screen. She imagined that it was some sort of planet – it certainly looked like one. In fact, it looked like the pictures she'd seen on earth television of a distant Venus.

The Doctor peered at the screen reluctantly. He half-said the word, purgatory, followed by a reluctant, 'I hadn't considered that,' then stared for some seconds in disbelief, before turning quickly back to the console and hitting dozens of buttons as roughly as before but as if at random. 'COME ON! COME ON!' he shouted, though Ace wasn't sure whether he was speaking to her or the TARDIS.

'What's happening?' she demanded to know above the din that the Doctor was making.

'WE'VE MATERIALIZED IN SPACE!' he called out.

Yes, he's just said that, she thought and replied, 'Can't we just re-materialize on that planet?'

'We could… but…' the Doctor continued to treat the console harshly. 'But the TARDIS isn't responding.' He gave the console a huge whack with the heel of his hand and the noise stopped.

Ace was relieved that the problem had been resolved – whatever it was in the first place. 'Let's be patient – that's what you always tell me,' she said confidently.

'Yes, but that glittery thing as you call it, is a planet…'

Ace smiled and almost did a little jump in the air. What a relief! She half-wished it really was Venus.

'I think it's heading straight towards us!' the Doctor exclaimed.

'You mean we're heading straight towards it!'

'NOW'S NOT THE TIME TO QUIBBLE ACE. COME ON! GIVE ME A HAND!'

The Doctor furiously pressed and punched keys on the console. Ace didn't know what the Doctor wanted her to do so she just stood, watching the chaos in front of her - a sharp contrast to the gentle, yet more deadly, image on the wall.

Chapter 2

'I have read your report,' said The Owner, somewhat over-formally, 'and I would like to congratulate you on the superb progress that you have made and on the marvellous discoveries, which, I must say…'

Farockaway had already switched-off from listening to his boss. He was used to, and bored by, praise, especially the insincere version he was listening to now.

The Scientist wasn't arrogant - just someone who was comfortable and confident with his own talent, which included some well-known career milestones.

'Nevertheless, in practical terms…' The Owner pondered, 'What does it actually mean?'

Such a strange question, thought Farockaway, as he tried to guess what The Owner was really trying to communicate to him under all of the pomp and exaggeration.

'It means,' Farockaway began cautiously so as not to give away any sign of irritation or worse still, to appear patronising, 'that we are on the verge of … of something…' He stopped short, aware he'd failed to make the necessary impact and pleaded, 'I don't have the words to describe it.'

'Does it mean that we can make things indestructible?' said The Owner.

Farockaway sighed uncomfortably and resigned himself to the fact that The Owner clearly hadn't read every word of his report, otherwise he wouldn't have asked. Always keep turning the page, read it all, that way you'll get more out of it!

The report had gone into great detail about the SkyLights Project. Frustratingly, The Owner was ignoring the report's arguments and observations and he seemed to only want to concentrate on the conclusions, which, whilst admittedly the most exciting aspect, had taken a long time to reach and were based on a lot of hard work, which merited equal, if not more, attention.

Farockaway had been drawn into working on the SkyLights project by accident. Having won many awards for his pioneering research into gravity and electro-magnetism, he had been living and working on Sirosan-2, a moon in orbit around the planet Sirosan and had been attempting to create an Anti-Gravity Vehicle prototype, when funding was abruptly withdrawn and the project ground to a pointlessly premature halt.

As a result of the forthcoming closure, Farockaway decided to take his team out for a meal and, naturally enough, the evening began in a sullen fashion. The atmosphere was more like a funeral or a wake but, as is the nature of these things, once they had all expressed individual sorrow and collective regret, each team member began to recall the good times – the laughs and jokes and pranks – as well as to commend themselves of the very real progress and useful discoveries that the team had at least been able to make.

'What will you do now?' asked Idiacoz, a young metrological expert who'd been on the project from the beginning, when she was still a student.

'That's an important question,' replied Farockaway taking in the restaurant, 'but you already know the answer.'

People around the table kept their eyes on the scientist. They didn't have a clue what the answer to the question was and this had the makings of a scoop.

'I bet that you don't know do you?' said Idiacoz learning forward, her long red hair falling around her shoulders.

Farockaway shook his head and shrugged. 'No.'

'You're not going to retire, are you?'

'Retire?' Farockaway shook his head again. 'Pensioned off?' He seemed almost indignant but then he paused. 'I don't know. Maybe. I mean, it's tempting.'

'Surely, you'll find something soon,' suggested Vinzz, another team member. 'You must have had some offers.'

Indeed, Farockaway had received many offers but most of them were in teaching or going onto the lecture circuit. He had been asked to write for journals, make documentaries and even endorse products, some of which he had done in the past; others he'd refused to get involved with because he didn't believe their claims.

'I'm going to go on holiday first,' he told them evasively.

'I can't see you spending too much time on holiday.'

There were wry smiles around the table at Vinzz's remark. Farockaway was a famous workaholic.

Sethlod, a project scientist, spoke. 'When you go on holiday with Farockaway, he's on the beach for about five minutes before he gets bored. Then he's off exploring and experimenting.' He turned his gaze back to The Scientist, 'It's people like you who get scientists such a reputation for boredom.'

Farockaway held up his hands. 'Yes, well, I get bored myself so... There's so much to explore and observe and find out even on a beach.'

Farockaway was glad to divert attention from the topic of what he was going to do next – because he didn't want to just admit, I don't know. Scientists had to know, illustrious scientists more so. If they didn't know something, they had to at least be engaged in finding out. That's how he grew up – having to find out.

'Right. Listen to this. This is a game. What do you make of this?'

The team leaned forward, wide eyed and in anticipation. Farockaway was a good story teller.

'The SkyLights, as we know, occur due to an interaction between solar flares and the planet's magnetic field, right?'

'Space Weather,' said Idiacoz.

Everyone nodded their agreement and Farockaway continued. 'What if – and this is just a hypothetical question – what if there was a way that this energy could be harnessed and used?'

The team knew that when Farockaway asked a question, he hadn't finished his line of enquiry so they waited for the inevitable follow up.

'Or what if, the SkyLights and their effect on the magnetic field, could also give us a record of what is happening on the planet? Maybe, we miss the point when we think the SkyLights can provide us with energy. Okay, so we need to find a way to tap that energy but maybe they can give us information as well.'

'What sort of information could they provide?' asked Idiacoz, her bright green, inquisitive eyes always wanting more.

'I don't know,' came the disappointing reply. 'It's just that…' Farockaway paused and shifted from side to side… 'We know that electromagnetic devices can be used to store data, don't we?'

The others again nodded, anticipating more information.

'Well, what's to say that they don't store data about the solar system?'

This time it was Farockaway's colleagues who shifted uncomfortably. Who would be the first to voice objections?

'It's just…' Idiacoz was speaking again, a hint of hesitation in her voice. 'It's just that… Well, how would the information be stored? How would we retrieve it?'

'Yes, I agree with what you want to say. Perhaps, the magnetic field of a planet stores information and the SkyLights reflect it outwards. If information is stored, there should be no long-term problem about retrieving it. Perhaps information is kept electromagnetically and then released as light, in a distorted form when the solar winds hit.'

Idiacoz tried to summarise. 'Perhaps, it could work like this: we have a hard disk in the form of the planet's magnetic field, we have the SkyLights which are like a computer monitor and finally we have a source of energy in the form of the solar winds. The solar wind extracts the data from the magnetic field and a space light - an aurora – displays the data.'

No-one else had anything to say in objection – or in support – so having looked round the table, Farockaway continued. 'It's an interesting idea,' he said before pausing, 'but it's madness,' and with that he sat back in his seat grinning.

'There is this huge magnetic field,' said Idiacoz, not wanting to drop the theme, 'most of which is doing nothing but maybe – the way it is configured – some of it is storing information so perhaps the magnetic field of the planet itself is one large storage device and the SkyLights are how this information is displayed.'

Farockaway sat forward, warming to the subject matter again. 'So all we'd have to do is find a way of plugging into it?'

'I mean, if a magnetic field has a structure, what influences that structure?' Idiacoz asked, 'I don't mean the larger structure – maybe at the atomic or sub-atomic level? The configuration of the planet's electromagnetic field could give us clues about previous events on the planet.'

'What previous events?' asked Watson, an environmental impact consultant.

'It could be anything,' replied Idiacoz. 'Anything at all. It could be geological or climatic – maybe it could tell us something about Planetary Warming – or it could be nothing to do with the planet but about the solar winds themselves. A bit of an anti-climax, eh?'

Watson spoke again. 'What we would need is either a processor that gives order to this chaos, that helps us to read the information held on disk, or something that translates the data on screen into something we can recognize. Maybe both I fear,'

The team returned to Farockaway, 'I don't think that the problem would be in extracting this information because the SkyLights are producing energy and matter as it is, however getting the information retrieved in the right order would be almost impossible.'

'We could leave that to the computer people,' said Idiacoz gesticulating with her hands. 'Sequencing isn't so difficult if you've already found a way to retrieve data and flag it.'

Computer technician Thompson added his bit but the conversation drifted onto something else because he said that despite his expertise in information technology he preferred reference libraries and alphabetical classification to 'all of these wretched computers.'

Chapter 3

Back inside the TARDIS, Ace was becoming ever-more frustrated.

'SO WE'RE JUST GOING TO CRASH ARE WE?! THAT'S IT?!'

'Not if I can get us back on-line?'

The TARDIS was responding to the Doctor's pummelling of its console by making a loud, grinding sound that roared around them.

'WHAT'S UP WITH IT? WHY'S IT DOING THIS?'

Ace really, really, really wished she had stayed in bed.

The Doctor explained: 'It's not the TARDIS; it's the pull of the mass down there.'

'IT'S GETTING BIGGER!' shouted Ace.

'WELL SPOTTED!'

'WE'RE GOING TO CRASH!'

The Doctor stopped banging and walked away from the console. 'I think that's the way it is, yes!'.

'DO SOMETHING!' yelled Ace. She hated the way he seemed so complacent at the wrong moments and this was definitely one of those.

'I've sent out a distress signal,' explained the Doctor.

'IS THAT THE BEST YOU CAN DO?!'

He raised his voice as the TARDIS din grew louder. It sounded as if it was in pain. Then a bell rang. 'I'M AFRAID SO!' he shouted.

Was that the Cloister Bell? she wanted to ask but the roar of the TARDIS suddenly ceased and what remained was a dull buzzing sound, as if in the distance.

'What's happened?' asked Ace. 'It's all gone quite.'

'Yes, thank you,' said the Doctor. 'Thanks for that stunning insight into the latest turn of events.'

Ace would have felt belittled at the Doctor's sarcasm, had she not just seconds before been so concerned. 'So why haven't we crashed?' she asked.

'I think it's worked.'

This wasn't a helpful reply. 'What's worked?' she asked seriously.

'The signal.'

'You mean we've been rescued?' She said it more in hope than anything else.

'Yes. That's the unmistakable sound of a traction beam.' The Doctor continued his whimsical ways. 'See?' he said. 'We're no longer free-falling.'

How could the Doctor be so sure, just from the sound of something? 'I knew you'd do it, Doctor' declared Ace, unconvincingly.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. 'I didn't,' he admitted.

'That's a bit of luck then.' It was Ace's turn to be sarcastic now.

'I wouldn't get carried away if I was you. Getting rescued is the easy part.' The Doctor stared at the monitor, all blank again.

'Why's that?' she asked, stress creeping back into her voice.

'Well, a traction beam pulls doesn't it?'

'Yes, it does.'

'So, if we're moving away from the planet, then something else is pulling us, a spaceship of some kind.'

'A spaceship, Doctor.'

'Exactly. But what sort of spaceship would have the power to do that.'

'A rescue ship?' chirped Ace. 'Whatever, it is, we're safe.'

'We're safe now,' said the Doctor, 'But who rescued us? And more importantly: why?'

Chapter 4

The sound of light footsteps echoed eerily along a yellow chrome corridor. As a lift arrived, there was an electronic swoosh, synchronized to the ending of the footsteps. The scene on the Sirosan-2 moon was suitably futuristic.

The doors of Cabin B opened and the footsteps continued, only this time more slowly and with a duller, more wooden sound, even though there had never, ever been a single tree or piece of wood up here. With a blast of compressed air, the lift rose through a shaft.

For all the indications that this was a place of high technology, like its six sisters, Cabin B was in no hurry to reach any of its destinations. Deep inside its programming, even this machine's limited intelligence knew that it would never reach a final goal: that its destiny was merely to move the millions who would pass through its building, until something new came along to replace it. Cabin B's purpose, like that of Cabin A and Cabins C to E, was to engage in the work of Sisyphus.

Outside the bi-solar system, this current lift mechanism was unique in that it could glide through all three dimensions of the building. Unlike earlier elevators that were designed simply to rise and fall, the Sisyphus Cabin travelled along a series of angled X's that stood next to, and on top of, one other. Not only could the Cabins sweep up and glide down diagonally but the centres of the X's were joined as well, enabling the lift to take its passengers, not just to the correct floor, but also to a given point within a structure.

On the ground floor, a young woman with a black ponytail, entered the lift and recognised a younger acquaintance, whose hair was red, almost pink.

'Wake-up Idiacoz!' the woman called Bersgaard said playfully.

Idiacoz raised her eyes and rolled them. 'Sorry…' she answered, 'I'm still half-asleep. Nice hair.'

'Were you up late last night?' asked Bersgaard, in a knowing tone.

'Sort of…'

Idiacoz didn't want to seem very conversational.

'Anything interesting?'

'The usual,' she replied with a resigned sigh. 'Work, reading, more reading and… guess what? Even more reading.'

'Why bother going home?' Bersgaard commented sympathetically.

Cabin B continued making its journey up, through, and sometimes down, the entire construction. It was like a three dimensional graph, showing highs and lows on a table.

'Is this your floor?' asked Bersgaard when a pink light above Idiacoz's head illuminated.

'Yes. It is. Thanks…' replied Idiacoz. 'So… er…' She fumbled with a bag she was holding.

Bersgaard interrupted, pointing to the light above her own head. 'That's good because it's mine too.'

Since the X-shape lift structure had been implemented, the concept of 'floors' was no longer straight-forward. Buildings were now full of half-floors, quarter-floors and two-thirds. There were apexes, summits, cones and attics, not to mention what went on underground.

As an environmental measure, all new buildings had to have as much space, under the ground as above it. Architects had immediately adopted a tendency for diamond shaped buildings that looked like pyramids above ground and now there was a fashion for dome shapes.

The six lifts of this particular research centre ran along a lattice of shafts crisscrossing the entire structure. One no longer worked on a Floor but at a Coordinates. Instead of the old way of pressing Floor number 23, one would key, 492.311.382 and the computer inside the Cabin would do the rest to get you as close as possible to where you wanted to go. Because the coordinate destinations were no longer sequential, without knowing the numbers, one had to point out, on a three-dimensional display, one's final destination. As this happened, a scan was taken of everyone entering the lift and a passenger could be tracked – it wasn't just the finger-print that was scanned but the eyes and face of the passenger pressing the screen. Once the destination was reached, a light above them would turn pink, having gone from green to blue on approach. There was no colour confusion - it was a different world, after all.

Even though the term Lift was no longer accurate – Cabin was the correct word – it was still widely used. Instead of cables, Cabins used a combination of anti-gravity materials and old-fashioned electro-magnets.

'Good…' said Idiacoz, continuing to fumble, her comments recorded by the lift, which used a combination of Idiacoz's words and tones in coming to the decision that there was no need to reply.

'You're not the only one who gets to research manuscripts you know?' smiled Bersgaard pointing to a hologram indicating how to get to the Library.

'I thought you all used terminals these days?' said Idiacoz.

'Yes, I still do, but sometimes you can't quite get what you want. You have to be able to ask the right question.'

'Date, subject, author? That's all you need,' suggested Idiacoz.

'Yes,' agreed her friend, 'but what happens when you get millions and millions of replies to the same criteria?'

'I told you this would happen,' said Idiacoz with a wider smile.

'Yes, I think you did once,' said her friend. 'How come?'

'The research was there – just that no-one could be bothered to read it.'

Like Idiacoz, Bersgaard worked as in research – 'but for the authorities' as Idiacoz had put it. Whatever that was supposed to mean. It was something Idiacoz didn't approve of although she wasn't able to explain why. Nevertheless, the idea felt uncomfortable to her.

As they left the Cabin, Bersgaard asked her friend what she was researching. Idiacoz seemed embarrassed. 'Come off it … You know I can't tell you. Anyway, it's you who gets all the interesting work; I get the dull stuff.'

'How would I know whether that's true?' Bersgaard asked and she led the way to the library.

'Hang on,' said Idiacoz, 'How about a drink or something, before we start?'

Bersgaard paused. She hadn't expected this and she was pleased. She held out her arm to invite Idiacoz in a different direction. 'Why not?' she said. 'Work can wait…'

Chapter 5

On the Sirosan-2 Moon, a group of soldiers had taken up positions around a dark blue block with a seemingly pointless transparent decoration on the top. Scans had revealed that although the exterior was mostly made of a light but resistant organic substance, which was unknown in this part of the universe, the interior contained metals that were extremely, and improbably, dense.

Officer-459621 responded to a voice in his earpiece. 'I don't know…' he said, 'We just have to keep an eye on it and fire if anything threatening happens.'

His comrade, Officer-145 reasoned, 'If this vessel needed rescuing I can't believe it will cause us any harm. They're just illegal immigrants. Why so many armed officers?'

'Talk like that could cost lives, soldier.' It was the voice of Pigmal. 'Everything under control?' he asked.

Officer-145 was embarrassed to have been overheard – and not a little fearful of the consequences. It was rare that a Head of Immigration Policing took charge of an operation personally so perhaps, it wasn't so trivial after all. 'Under control, Sir.'

'Good,' came Pigmal's voice. 'All officers and weapons in position and ready?'

Officer-145 replied, 'Yes, sir.'

'Very good,' said Pigmal. 'My plan is: stay there and see what happens. We won't waste time trying to break into it – at least until I say so. My experience is that eventually, whatever is inside will have to come out. Keep me informed if anything happens...'

Officer-145 confirmed that he would keep Pigmal up to date and the communication was cut. He was about to tell Officer-459621 that he thought this was an absurd idea and they should just fire a few rounds at the object to scare the aliens out, but then he reasoned that Pigmal might still be listening on the radio-link - he might even be watching - so instead, he kept his thoughts to himself – that it was all a complete waste of time and he'd rather be doing something useful elsewhere.

What if the thing or things inside, never come out? How long will we sit here waiting? He didn't become a police officer for this. Armed policing had seemed like so much fun when he chose to apply. You got to play soldier without ever having to go to war.

There were no police on Sirosan any more – apart from some military ones – so joining the relatively new force on Sirosan-2 seemed like an opportunity not to be missed. But he didn't like all the waiting– he liked action and making things happen.

Officer-459621 also felt that his time was being wasted and that Officer-145 was right – these were probably just illegal immigrants escaping to the moon from the planet. As the two Officers ran these thoughts through their minds, inside the TARDIS, Ace and the Doctor, not for the first time lately, were at loggerheads.

'Where are we Doctor?' Ace had asked when the traction sound stopped and the monitor showed the TARDIS to have been pulled onto the surface of a different planet, which further research revealed it to be a moon orbiting the planet they'd begun to plunge into.

'If you remember just five minutes ago, I said that we're on a moon.'

'No, I meant, where on the moon?'

The Doctor sighed. 'As you can see on the monitor, we're inside some sort of warehouse thing. I don't know precisely.'

There was a pause and the Doctor went back to whatever it was he was doing on the TARDIS console.

'What now Doctor?'

This time the Doctor slammed his hands on the console; he was beginning to lose his temper. He composed himself, turned to face his companion and asked, 'How many times do you say that every day?'

'What?' said Ace, misunderstanding.

'Exactly! How many times have you asked, "What now Doctor?" since we've know each other?' Ace had a headache caused by her decaying tooth. She wanted to ask the Doctor about treatment but it didn't seem like the right moment. This surely wasn't the time or place to have an argument even though she'd grown weary of spending so much time cooped up with the Doctor in the TARDIS with no one else to speak to… She looked him square in the eyes and asked, 'What am I supposed to say?'

'What? When you're not asking "Where are we?" or "What now?" all the time.'

'All the time?' she questioned.

'Doesn't it ever occur to you that I might not know?' the Doctor gesticulated with open arms. 'I mean, how many times do I actually come up with the answer to your little questions?' He emphasised the word little deliberately. 'Come on – how many?'

'I don't know…' was all Ace could think of to say.

'Well, I don't know either, do I?'

The Doctor's expression now altered from one of superior intolerance to something more conciliatory. 'We'll just have to find out the hard way,' then holding out a hand and smiling kindly, he said, 'Are you with me?'

'Yes, Doctor.'

'That's what I was hoping you would say.'

'Yes, Doctor.'

'Ah, music to my ears.'

Ace took The Doctor's hand and he led the way to the TARDIS door.

'Yes, Doctor,' repeated Ace, biting her bottom lip with her front teeth.

The Doctor stopped, turned and faced his Ace. 'Are you taking the…?'

'Yes, Doctor,' she replied quickly.

He gave a wry smile, then in a resigned one, he whispered 'Come on. I'm afraid this is no time for games.'

On the outside of the TARDIS, Officer-145 had something to report. 'One of the walls is moving… I hope it's a door… It might mean they're humanoid…'

'Everyone - take aim…' instructed Officer-459621. He pressed his earpiece again, 'Chief Pigmal?'

'Officer?'

'Movement, sir.'

'I've got it on the monitor,' came back Pigmal.

So he has been watching us, after all. 'On your signal, sir.'

Pigmal watched the monitor, and kept an eye on the scans and temperature readings. 'Hold your fire…' he said. 'It's a humanoid… Two of them… Unarmed. Slowly does it…'

The Doctor and Ace came through the TARDIS door simultaneously. It was something that had occupied him for far too long since an earlier showdown. Was letting Ace walk through the TARDIS door first, basic politeness or patronising to women as more than one companion had suggested? If there was danger outside, was her going first, recognition that she wasn't in his shadow or was it cowardice because she'd be on the front line and he'd have time to duck back inside? Should Time Lords waste their thoughts on such trifles? Or was describing the dilemma as a trifle, to be considered patronising and… To hell with it, he'd decided, before reasoning that, on this occasion, they'd hold hands and come through the door together.

'Hello?' he said cheerily.

'Hold your aim,' said Pigmal to his officers quietly. 'Give them time to come out.'

'Hello?' repeated Ace.

Pigmal quietly gave instructions to 'force' the humanoids and on his audio-link he heard two laser sounds, then running boot steps with shouted and sharply barked instructions.

Officer-459621 spoke first, 'Aliens captured in force field, sir.'

'I can see that well-enough,' said Pigmal. 'Good work. Take them to Decontamination.'

'Okay, next on the agenda is the patient brought in last night.'

A single sheet of information was passed around those present.

'We don't have any ID for him yet. He's middle-aged to elderly, suffering from exhaustion, malnourished but heart seems okay. Brain scans reveal a bit of a muddle. We need to do them again, as well as other checks, bone density and so on, which should reveal whether he's from a moon or not. The patient is tall and thin, not violent. Any comments?'

'The military say they picked him up wandering the streets. He was soaking wet, half-naked. ID scans reveal nothing, ditto DNA and other identifiers.'

'Illegal immigrant?'

'What? From the moon to Sirosan – everyone's going in the other direction!'

'He's quiet, hasn't said a single word… A little anxious…'

'We haven't had a lead yet, what with no ID. We are checking the Missing List - we'll just have to see what they find.'

'Anything else?'

'The patient has been given an opportunity to write and draw but nothing yet. No communication.'

'He has not spoken since the day he was picked up. Staff have given him some writing materials in the hope he will write his name. Instead the patient has drawn strange pictures of clouds or something - very childish images.'

'He does not make any sounds but I think I can communicate with him through tiny nods.'

'Several lines of inquiry have been followed; interpreters have been tried but to no avail.'

'The patient remains extremely distressed and may have suffered a trauma.'

'He is not talking at all, he is very frightened,'

'We are aware that he is a very vulnerable man and we would be putting him in a dangerous situation if we just let him go…'

Chapter 6

In the coveted role of Chief Scientist, an honouree post held for life, Farockaway was frequently obliged to attend a number of formal occasions and dinners but apart from that, it carried few real responsibilities. The incumbent was awarded a modest expenses allowance but no salary and while the position carried a certain amount of prestige, it sometimes proved to be a source of annoyance as he would rather have excused himself from some of the duller events.

The planet Sirosan had orbited just a third around its twin suns since the Anti-Gravity Vehicle project had ended and Farockaway now found himself seated opposite The Owner and was asked, out of politeness it seemed, what he was working on now.

'Nothing… not since the Anti-Gravity Vehicle project was pulled,' he said wearily. 'I was disappointed but not surprised.'

'That's a great shame,' said The Owner with what appeared to be genuine regret. 'I could do with that sort of technology on my moon.'

The emphasis on the possessive pronoun irritated Farockaway. How can someone claim a moon for themselves? How could we have let that happen? But he merely smiled politely not wanting to get into controversy. On the other hand… 'Why do you say your moon?' he asked.

The Owner stared in surprise, opened his mouth and gave a broad grin. 'A slip of the tongue,' he said and reached for a bottle, holding it over Farockaway's glass. 'More drink?'

'No, thank you.' Farockaway held his palm in the air and The Owner put the bottle down between them.

'I know what you're thinking,' said The Owner.

'Oh?'

The Owner paused and stared at the table. Farockaway studied The Owner's orange complexion and bright blue eyes. Then The Owner looked up and started at Farockaway with a determined glare. 'You're thinking that I'm possessive and egocentric, that my lapsus has a reason - which you clearly don't approve of.'

Farockaway had to be careful. In front of him was a powerful man who could make and break careers, if not entire colonies! Equally, The Owner would have to be conscious of the status of those around him. He might have a lot of wealth and charisma of his own but taking on one of the finest minds of a generation in public would probably work against him.

Always one to play the odds, The Owner's business career had begun with construction. Fresh out of university, he founded a firm that was eventually responsible for the development of the Sirosan-2 moon. From real estate, he moved on to other fields, namely media, advertising and financial services, then banking and transport. Finally, and apparently reluctantly, The Owner decided to enter politics on an environmental platform.

As always he split public opinion down the middle. Was The Owner a 'new man' to save the planet from environmental disaster, making much needed reforms or was his political career designed to help him avoid the bankruptcy of his own companies due to large amounts of debt (much of it fines and other costs relating to the clearing up pollution caused by his own network of companies and products)?

In fact, The Owner's term in office had been short and his improvised coalition quickly fell apart in squabbles so that he announced his retirement from politics and public life altogether

Back across the table, Farockaway continued to be irritated because if The Owner had admitted his choice of words had been wrong, why was he now getting so prickly with the scientist?

Until recently, the moons orbiting Planet Sirosan were considered public property and run directly under the auspices of the Sirosan government. However The Owner unexpectedly returned, using his massive wealth to buy a secretly negotiated franchise for the Blue Moon and he announced an accompanying colonisation programme.

'We need a new name for a new epoch,' he announced, even though the terms of the franchise specifically denied anyone the right to rename a moon. 'The new name for the moon is Sirosan-2', he said and his media outlets would, from then on, use this name and promote it. Indeed, The Owner went so far as to decry how out of touch Sirosan government officials were for continuing to use the 'old' name. He now began to encourage the initially unflattering nickname, The Owner, to be used to describe him.

In the distant past, when the Planetary Council that governed Sirosan had been established with control over and above regional and continental governments, the moons were given colours as an alternative to having them called by different names in different languages and also because, to a degree, the colours chose themselves.

True enough, the Violet Moon wasn't violet as such but it's light frequency tended closer to being a purple shade of white than any other colour. In reality, some of the moons changed tone and shade depending on local conditions and how they were observed from different vantage points. The Blue Moon was the coldest of them all but rich in water in the form of ice. It was this water and some unspecified terraforming technology that, The Owner claimed, would make it inhabitable with an atmosphere, although few believed that this would realistically happen.

The first wave of allocations made the Yellow Moon a Conservation Centre. Environmentalists had hoped for the Blue Moon with all of its freshwater reserve and were bitterly disappointed at the outcome. The military were allocated control of the Silver asteroid, one of two very large orbiting rocks that for various reasons were not officially classified as moons. Inevitably, the military argued that one rock wasn't sufficient and they needed to get hold of a proper stable orbiting moon but the government surprisingly held firm.

The Yellow Moon was given the remit of preserving every species of life not yet extinct known to exist on Sirosan, however fulfilling such a bold and exciting mandate on a moon was never going to be easy and sure enough the project soon began to run up against financial and logistical problems. It was only the late intervention of another entrepreneur, Montented, who announced that he would put in substantial funding in return for being allowed to run a safari range, which saved the day.

Understandably there was a lot of controversy over this so Montented included interactive museums and information centres, though critics likened these more to a theme park and gambling centre than anything else. Montented was secretly annoyed that The Owner, through renaming the Blue Moon as Sirosan-2 had implied that his was the most important moon in that it was a second Sirosan, and for a while he publicly toyed with the idea of renaming the Yellow Moon, but his advisors suggested that this would only make things worse and that The Owner would play this flouting of the law in the long run.

The second wave of allocations saw the setting up of a Waste Centre on the Pink Moon. This was justified as part of the policy of cleaning up Sirosan. 'We will now start to dump our rubbish outside, instead of inside, the house,' claimed a proponent of waste that was too hazardous for Sirosan and couldn't ever be recycled safely. Cynics suggested that Sirosan itself ought to have become the Waste Centre as it was such a dump already!

The Green Moon was given over to telecommunications. It was filled with satellite dishes and antennae, though the official allocation was merely recognition of the status quo. The military finally got its way when the Orange Moon was also allocated to them without fuss.

The final tranche of the process saw the setting up of prison and penal units on the Red Moon. It was, as one would expect, a rough and uninviting habitat with a thin atmosphere and harsh seasons. The White Moon was to be given over to genetically altered super crops, which in theory, meant that they could not contaminate those few varieties that remained on Planet Sirosan.

It wasn't that these moons were given over exclusively to their defined purposes – clearly there had to be appropriate housing for workers, then various standards of shopping and leisure facilities to service those workers – but that they would specialise in the aspects that they were allocated.

Although there had been much controversy about franchising the moons, everyone accepted that Sirosan's days were numbered and something had to be done sooner rather than later. In the long term, a new planet would inevitably have to be found because calculations about what would happen were two of the moons or asteroids to collide, were worryingly inconclusive. Several near misses were projected between the Red Moon and the White Moon, but what was harder to calculate was the effect of gravity each would have on the other even millions of years before actually colliding. By how much would both of their orbits be altered?

When Farockaway spoke, he chose his words with diplomatic care and expressed them firmly. 'I know what you're accused of - I keep myself informed - but I also know that nothing has ever been proven. I'm a scientist and we look for proof and evidence, not gossip and supposition. It isn't for scientists to take sides. We really ought to be outside of these considerations. We have to stay neutral. We must be above politics.' He said it in such as way as to imply that The Owner was his opposite, that Farockaway had principles therefore The Owner did not.

There was a tense pause as the two men eyed each other carefully. When the moment passed, once again, Farockaway was the individual left most surprised. Far from being insulted, The Owner agreed with the scientist and the tension between the two began to dissipate.

'But,' added The Owner. 'You still haven't explained.'

Farockaway groaned inwardly - The Owner was not going to let it go.

'What are you working on now?' asked The Owner.

The scientist gave a sigh. 'When I'm not attending functions like this one, you mean?' He took a sip from his glass. It would buy him time. Farockaway didn't want to reply that he was actually not doing anything so he mentioned a hobby he'd been pursuing. 'I've been making observations of the SkyLights, taking readings regarding each solar flare, duration, strength, angulations, combinations of two or more aspects...'

'SkyLights, eh? Wow! Beautiful. But… I mean, Why?'

'Why?' Farockaway retorted. The answer is obvious, he thought.

'Yes, why?' replied The Owner.

'Well, by studying the auroras, scientists can learn more about the solar wind, how it affects Sirosan's atmosphere and how the energy of the auroras might be harnessed for useful purposes.'

'Such as fuel?'

'Well, there's that but I find the whole fuel thing rather boring.'

'Boring, you say?' The Owner raised his eyebrows.

'Boring because there are many other sources of energy – what are we going to do with all this energy? I don't think, on its own, finding extra energy serves any purpose.'

'So what other uses could there be for SkyLights energy?' The Owner appeared genuinely curious.

'SkyLights are constantly in motion because of the changing interaction between the solar winds and Sirosan's magnetic field. We know that already.'

'Yes, yes,' said The Owner interrupting, 'but…'

'The solar winds can generate up to 30,000,000 megawatts of electricity and this can cause interference with communications, such as those frequently witnessed with and between the moons.'

Farockaway felt he'd done enough techno-speak to put The Owner off but he was wrong.

'The blaze of the Lights is caused when material thrown off the surface of the suns collides with the atmosphere. I know this,' said The Owner.

'That's right, yes.' Farockaway scratched his head.

'So,' continued The Owner, 'by following events on the suns and measuring the speed of the matter being thrown off their surfaces, we can predict the appearance of the SkyLights with a fair degree of accuracy.'

Farockaway was surprised at The Owner's knowledge. He didn't know what to say, and then The Owner wrong footed him again. 'You're surprised that I know anything about it at all, aren't you?'

The scientist was forced into a corner. He laughed, embarrassed. The Owner had initially made out that he didn't understand. 'Well,' Farockaway stuttered. 'I didn't know it was your field.'

'No, but… It's because of my media operations. We rely on these predictions and observations - Space Weather Reports they're called – because the SkyLights can interfere with broadcasts. But not all the predictions are correct, are they? Perhaps there's something about the nature and intensity of the displays that can help us make predictions.'

'Well, in fact, I think that the display we see – the aurora – is determined by the magnetic field, more than the solar flares. The magnetic field is more constant you see and where there is a magnetic field… What I mean to say is that the magnetic field is like a computer hard-disk storing information. Add plasma particles and that data is released as a display…'

'Only we haven't got a very good monitor so we can't see the images – can't read the data very well?'

'That's right… And I've been trying to work out a way we could plug into that?'

The Owner looked at Farockaway studiously. 'Perhaps we can help one another… Professionally, I mean. I won't hide the fact that I'm interested in all that energy but I'd also like to be able to have better Space Weather forecasts… Surely...'

'Yes,' whispered Farockaway, both shocked and flattered by the hint of an offer but not wanting to show it; not knowing whether he should appear to be pleased or just embarrassed.

'Well, it seems to me,' said The Owner, 'that you're wasted as a weatherman. Who is it you said you work for?'

Farockaway hadn't said, indeed he couldn't say. He'd begun making his observations after the final meal with his Anti-Gravity Vehicle colleagues. Partly, he just wanted to do something fulfilling – he often invented little games for himself when bored. He loved knowledge for its own sake; problem solving satisfied him per se, irrespective of how important the question was to the rest of society. But that attitude probably wouldn't endear anyone to an employer. Fortunately, he was beyond having to worry too much.

'It was just something I wanted to try,' he said, not wanting to reveal it all but he had to admit, 'I'm not working for anyone. It's just a hobby.'

'That's amazing,' The Owner exclaimed. 'That you're doing this in your own time as a hobby when you could have proper funding.'

'It takes too long to apply for funding and besides, they would probably turn me down. No, it's just a hobby until I find something else.'

'Like what?'

'I don't know.'

'You could retire?'

Farockaway made a face of disgust.

The Owner empathised, 'I know how you feel. I could never retire either. I don't know what I would do without work.'

'Well, you certainly have a lot of that – a whole moon.'

The Owner leaned forward. 'Look. What if I were to fund your research?'

Farockaway didn't like where this was all leading. He needed to explain himself better but also to get The Owner off his back. He knew all about The Owner and the allegations against him and, despite what he had said earlier about neutrality, he did not approve. That said, he had found The Owner to be charming, intelligent and engaging. He didn't want to like him but found himself captivated. The Owner could be warm and generous, funny and serious in turn. At last, someone who is not a scientist showing enthusiasm for science!

Farockaway now explained his theory that the SkyLights were a potential source, not just of energy or even Space Weather information but that there was more data – perhaps even data about the future - but that he was soon going to have to stop, realising that it was at the atomic or sub-atomic level where he needed to look, and that this was impossible as a mere hobby.

'What if I were to sponsor the project, in exchange for some exclusives?' asked The Owner. 'You know, do some documentaries about what you're doing, that sort of thing?'

'You mean interviews and suchlike?'

'That sort of thing, yes – exclusively.'

Exclusivity was not a concept that, wearing his scientific hat, Farockaway agreed with. He still regarded scientific discovery as a patrimony for all, not something for the privileged few. The Owner mistook Farockaway's hesitation for reluctance.

Maybe individual incentives had to be mentioned. The idea appealed to The Owner – Why didn't I think of it before? - Farockaway would be a useful person to have on his payroll per se. It could be more than owning the broadcasting rights for research, discovery and application; it could be for the entire project itself and its personnel. The Owner would receive a lot credit for funding such a wild and exciting project, some awards even. Of course, when he meant funding he meant guaranteeing a grant with collateral because it would ultimately be funded publicly and administered by one of The Owner's private companies. He'd see to that. And what about signing up Farockaway himself, to get some reflected glory. Can it do any harm?

'I mean,' began The Owner, 'putting you on the pay-roll – and giving you a budget for a team – and bankrolling the entire research.'

Farockaway sat in silent contemplation.

'Think about it,' said The Owner, needlessly. 'You don't have to decide now, but let me know in a couple of Orbits, okay?'

Chapter 7

The same technology that had been used to liberate the TARDIS was now being employed to detain the Doctor and Ace in separate units. There was the same buzzing sound that they'd heard when the TARDIS had been held in a traction beam.

'Sir,' barked a guard, acknowledging the arrival of Pigmal and Spessogack.

Pigmal, who ran the Sirosan-2 Immigration Service, had a short, stocky frame, no hair and carried a whiff of frustration about him. By contrast, Spessogack, Head of the Secret Services was tall, blonde, middle aged and self-confident. Both were coming directly from a meeting of the Executive Planning Board, which they were both members of.

'Any problems?' asked the former.

'None Sir, the detainees have made no formal declaration.'

Pigmal rolled his eyes. So what if the prisoners have made no declaration!. That wasn't the question. A simple yes or now would have been sufficient.

Pigmal quite fancied himself as an interrogator. He'd had plenty of practical experience and had even read up on some of the published materials as he didn't like to consider himself as just a bruiser, like some of his peers and subordinates. As he told Colluxx, author of a modern study on the subject, 'The best way to get the information you're looking for is the old fashioned way! Not, to be sure, employing some of the excesses seen in the past – I don't necessarily believe in torture, as such - but neither should you think you can just tickle detainees into letting slip where they've stashed their weapons factories!'

After a long lasting enquiry by the Executive Planning Board, Colluxx had been given the task of finding more 'humane' interrogation techniques and she'd been interviewing Pigmal as part of her research.

'You have to act quickly in interrogations,' he'd insisted, 'before a prisoner has time to get his bearings and sort out a lie.'

'Or even her bearings,' replied Colluxx, as heads around them nodded in agreement. The put down was an illustration that Colluxx's methods were in and Pigmal's were out

Pigmal had been alerted that a strange blue spacecraft had been captured and had vainly hoped to keep the Secret Services out of things – at least at the beginning. But not only had the spooks known about it, but their boss, Spessogack had only decided to turn up personally to check out the passengers! Pigmal had no problem intimidating a low-ranking agent but not a big gun like Spessogack. Do these people spy on the police as well?!

Now Pigmal would have to watch his step. There was little to be done in the circumstances but show-off to Spessogack that Pigmal's Immigration Service was capable and efficient.

Being under the gaze of Spessogack, he'd have to waste his time going through the motions found in Colluxx's Official Interrogation Manual and try the approach known as Friend or Foe.

Official Interrogation Manual? What a laugh! You don't learn to be a good interrogator reading manuals – you need hands-on experience, he thought.

As if to confirm Pigmal's prejudices, the version of the document, when it was made public had been renamed the Interrogation Brochure. He could often be heard complaining to those he trusted: 'That's the trouble with the new breed of Professional Interrogator – they only know psychology and official procedure - but to be a good interrogator you have to step out a little, get real, deal with some real villains, take your nose out of the manuscripts and terminals, leave the library. A little bit of gumption, a little bit of agro. Let them know who's in charge in there.'

When Pigmal began reading the first pages of Colluxx's three volume work – THREE VOLUMES! - He quickly made up his mind that there was nothing to be learnt from reading the rest. In the Hard Cop/Soft Cop section, as it should have been called but was instead given a 'fancy' name that he could no longer remember, Pigmal had read that:

'This approach takes advantage of the uncertainty and guilt of a detainee. Two experienced interrogators, who are convincing actors, display opposing personalities and attitudes toward the detainee. The first is formal, unsympathetic and strict making a detainee feel isolated. The second interrogator then scolds the first interrogator for his harsh behaviour, and orders him from the room apologizing to soothe the detainee …'

'Convincing actors?' he'd said out loud, almost chocking with incredulity. 'This isn't drama school!'

Nevertheless, he finally reasoned, as long as Colluxx got the information Pigmal was after, he didn't care too much about her methods. She was bound to trip up sooner or later but for all of her faults it was nevertheless useful to have another Blackfriars member in such a sensitive post. In fact, he secretly suspected that Colluxx didn't actually believe the rubbish she espoused but was just going through the motions herself to appease her own superiors.

Walking to the cells with Spessogack now, another question ran through his mind: if there is going to be a successful interrogation just who is going to play mummy and who is going to play daddy? Colluxx's description of Hard Cop/Soft Cop was all very well, he felt, but a little simplistic. It didn't say anything about throwing objects across the room, implying you're prepared to get nasty – and illegal – and in doing so, getting the job done quicker; instead it had plenty to say about neat filing systems and accountability. Flicking through, he even found a paragraph on keeping prisoners comfortable! It was all he could do to keep from throwing her work on a fire.

For her part Colluxx concluded, by implication, that Pigmal's approach was, 'A dead-end and something any wise interrogator would want to avoid'.

There was a blast of air from a duct. 'They've been fully decontaminated and de-radiated, Sir,' said the soldier snapping Pigmal back to reality before leading him to the Doctor's cell.

Although Pigmal despised Spessogack, he also felt a need to impress him. There were still other avenues his career might take, but it was also a question of pride and not letting Secret Services get too big for their boots.

'My name is Pigmal,' he announced. ' Do. You. Understand. Me?'

'I do, yes,' replied the Doctor.

'Good,' said Pigmal, somewhat surprised he'd got a result so soon. He glanced sideways at Spessogack, who to Pigmal's annoyance spoke, saying, 'Please excuse the tight security – I hope it hasn't been invasive but we can't be too careful these days.'

'I understand,' was the Doctor's reply.

'I was hoping you'd say that.' Pigmal blurted, glancing at Spessogack for signs of approval.

Spessogack ignored Pigmal and said, 'Don't worry about your companion. We won't give either of you any problems - as long as we are satisfied, that you won't cause any to us.'

'Yes,' agreed Pigmal. 'We are here to help.' The words stuck in his throat but felt he had to make Spessogack understand that he too was on the same plane. I can be just as charming as anyone if I need to be - for all the good it will do.

Pigmal then muttered almost exactly what Spessogack had already said, 'We just need to establish a few facts and then I'm sure we'll be able to get on with things.'

In the next cell, Ace felt claustrophobic and even more cooped up than the TARDIS had been. At least the TARDIS was bigger on the inside. Still, it could have been worse – these soldiers had, after all, rescued them. Then again, experience told her that even the most seemingly empathetic beings could behave with savagery and brutality – more so in fact – if their interests were threatened.

'I suppose I should start by thanking you for rescuing us,' said the Doctor from his cell.

'We picked up your signal. First of all, we thought your ship was a piece of rock because we couldn't identify what else it could be made of, then a suspected weapons attack, then an alien vessel – either way we were about to shoot you out of existence before you sent that distress call.'

'We just mat… We were just… knocked… off course.' The Doctor preferred to avoid revealing too much about time travel as, in his experience, it was a secret best kept under wraps. Too many of the Universe's inhabitants – as well as those beyond it – had already expressed an unhealthy interest in this ability.

'An odd travelling device,' remarked Pigmal as if reading the Doctor's thoughts. 'It's unarmed, I see.'

'No need,' said the Doctor shrugging, hoping that Pigmal was not telepathic.

That was the problem with telepathy. Time Lords were slightly telepathic but conversely it meant that they were more likely to have their own thoughts read by those with even stronger telepathic abilities. Sometimes the Doctor felt it was the Time Lords' open-mindedness that had made them vulnerable to enemies. On the other hand, he asked himself, what open-mindedness would that be in anything but first impressions?

'What's happened to my companion?' he asked.

Pigmal nodded to a guard who left the room to fetch Ace.

'Your name?' asked Pigmal

'I'm the Doctor.'

'I see, Doctor. It suits you. You're a Doctor, are you?' Pigmal cringed at his own stupidity. Spessogack's presence was putting him off. He didn't know what to say or ask. It suits you, indeed!

'It's a long story.'

'Did you come here deliberately because if…'

'No, as I said, we were blown off course, you see.'

'Blown?' repeated Pigmal, 'But there's no wind in space…'

'Well, there's the Solar Wind…'

Just then, Ace and a guard entered and she began to say something but the Doctor interrupted. 'Hello, Ace. All will be explained in a moment.' He placed a finger on his lips then turned back to Pigmal.

'I meant it figuratively. We were deciding where to go and suddenly, we found ourselves being pulled towards a planet.'

'Where were you heading to, Doctor?'

'Heading? Well, we hadn't yet decided, had we Ace?' It was a question the Doctor would not have wanted to answer anyway… 'You see, my Ace here…'

Ace didn't normally like being referred to as 'My Ace,' nevertheless she took comfort from this small sign of affection. It meant that there was no danger.

'And where were you travelling from?'

'We come from a long way away – we've been criss-crossing the universe, you see…'

Spessogack, who had sat expressionless throughout, suddenly spoke. 'Let's cut the bullshit, shall we Doctor?' he said getting to his feet. 'You're a Time Lord, aren't you?'

The Doctor looked at his shoes, grinning like a naughty boy. 'Yes… But…'

Briefly even Pigmal was impressed. Spessogack had stayed quite then obtained the 'secret' with a few well chosen words. How did he do that?

Then again, Pigmal reasoned, it was me who had, gently but effectively, softened up the detainee. It was only just as I was about to get something useful, that Spessogack had interrupted. 'What's a Time Lord?' he now asked, curiosity getting the better of pride.

The rest of the Interrogation Brochure said that if a Silent Interrogator did well, then:

A detainee will become nervous, begin to shift around in his chair, cross and re-cross his legs, and look away. He may ask questions, but the interrogator should not answer until he is ready to break the silence. The detainee may blurt out questions such as, "Come on now, what do you want with me?" When the interrogator is ready to break the silence, he may do so with some nonchalant question such as, "You planned this operation a long time, didn't you? Was it your idea?" The interrogator must be patient when employing this technique. It may appear for a while that the technique is not succeeding, but it will usually work when given a reasonable chance.

Pigmal had skipped that bit of Colluxx's publication.

'I knew it but I wasn't sure,' said Spessogack laughing for the first time and much to Pigmal's annoyance.

'I apologise for the, er, welcome, but we can't afford to take risks. You know how it is, I'm sure.'

'Believe me. We were just glad to be rescued,' said the Doctor, 'But tell me, how is it?'

'How is what?'

'You said that I must 'know how it is'…

'You know,' began Spessogack ignoring the interruption, 'I'm one of the few people on this moon to know anything at all about Time Lords – I often spend time in the library looking through old manuscripts. We've had a lot of people from Galifrey pass through Sirosan – in the olden days of course. It was such a long way to come.'

Pigmal stood between the two men, looking from one to another, trying to work out what they were saying.

Spessogack continued. 'You know, I find that I remember what I read on a manuscript better than with the terminal. We haven't had a Time Lord here for, well, before I was even born. But don't worry. You're very welcome here.' He paused to look at Ace, 'Your granddaughter?'

'She's… my… assistant,' corrected the Doctor. 'She's not a Time Lord but she's with me. I'll vouch for her with my lives.'

'Ha-ha! That's funny,' blurted Pigmal excitedly.

Spessogack turned to Pigmal then back to the Doctor. 'I thought that Time Lords had no sense of humour.'

Ace was about to try to speak again but the Doctor stepped in front of her. 'Good then,' he said. 'Perhaps I better get on with a few things. I need to repair my ship.'

'First, please, if you will, allow me to introduce myself properly,' said Spessogack.

'If you would…' said the Doctor relieved at not having to ask a direct question.

'Let us say that I'm employed by the Secret Services on this moon.'

'James Bond?' said Ace to herself as the Doctor glanced back at her disapprovingly.

'I'm sorry?' asked the alien 007.

'It's nothing…' said Ace.

The Doctor cleared his throat. 'I'm sorry, my companion is…'

'Yes, I know Doctor and I apologise again to your assistant for your detention – however it is, as you must realise, a standard precaution. As I was saying, my name is Spessogack and, what can I tell you? I run the counter-espionage network… We cover things like terrorist assessment, surveillance…'

Pigmal wasn't happy that Spessogack now appeared to be taking the initiative. They don't run anything. They're just dogsbodies, like we all are. Unlike them, we have to account for ourselves, do things in the open and within a budget.

'I get the picture,' said the Doctor, trying to stifle a yawn – or at least pretending to try. 'But surely, as I explained to your colleague…'

Pigmal was secretly raging – Colleagues?! With him?! He's more like a glorified playboy. Spessogack has never even worked in the field. He's always been sat behind a desk or wandering round an office with a storage disk in his hand, pretending to do something useful!

'So where are we?' asked Ace interrupting, successfully on this occasion. It seemed to her as if the most obvious information had not yet been asked for.

'My-my! You don't know where we are? What's up with your machine?'

'If I knew that, I'd have made repairs long ago and never have troubled you in the first place,' said the Doctor.

'Well then,' said Spessogack, 'I welcome you both to the Sirosan-2 Moon… orbiting around the planet Sirosan…'

'You're so lucky to have a moon with an atmosphere,' said the Doctor. He held a hand to his forehead to shade out the glare of two suns.

'Doctor… I…' said Ace.

'It's okay,' he said. 'They just wanted to check us out. Rather fortunate, I have to say.

'But…'

'They rescued us…' The Doctor seemed irritated by her voice.

Suddenly, Ace had something different to take her attention. She looked through the glass ceiling above them. 'Wow! What's that?'

'That,' Spessogack explained, 'is Sirosan – the planet we orbit around'

'Yes, Ace. Don't you remember – from the monitor?' He turned back to Spessogack. 'So, what's the set-up then?'

'Ah, so many questions, Doctor. Where to begin?'

'At the beginning?' said Ace, wanting to show she was more than a mere assistant.

'I see your companion lacks a Time Lord's understanding of where stories begin – and where they end.'

These two will get on like a house on fire, thought Ace.

'Everyone has to begin somewhere,' said the Doctor.

'Ha Ha. I get it. A joke,' said Pigmal trying to wriggle his way back into a conversation that he felt Spessogack was deliberately trying to cut him out of.

'Not really, no,' the Doctor told him

'Irony,' corrected Spessogack, successfully making Pigmal feel out-of-depth.

'No,' said the Doctor, not understanding the reason for their incomprehension.

Spessogack took a deep breath and changed the subject. 'Basically, my dear Doctor, the people who live on the Sirosan-2 Moon, do so because Sirosan itself is unstable, unhealthy and in essence too risky to live on.'

'Just to be clear then,' the Doctor, said, 'most of the population have left to come and live here because…?'

'Because our people messed up and the planet is largely uninhabitable. Millions of years of evolution over in the blink of an eye and all in the name of progress.'

'How come we can breathe?' asked Ace. 'I thought there was no atmosphere on the moon.'

'And which moon is that?' Spessogack was ever curious.

'She's from Earth – late 20th Century,' explained the Doctor.

Spessogack hadn't the foggiest idea what Earth was or indeed what the 20th Century might be. 'Some moons do have atmospheres even though most don't,' he explained. 'We've obviously had to increase the atmosphere here but in fact, this moon already did have surface gases and we just terra-formed everywhere.' He pointed skywards again, 'Look there. That largish yellow object… that's a moon too. You can just make it out if you know where to look. There are many, some near, some far, and most of them – look at that dark shadow there – that's a moon too. Apart from this moon and one other, they have no atmosphere whatsoever, so people live on bases. Temperatures and climates vary too.'

'How many moons in all?' asked the Doctor.

'It's hard to put an exact figure on it but a dozen or so.'

'You don't know exactly? Can't you just count them?' said Ace sniggering.

'Yes,' said Spessogack, missing the satire in her voice, 'but that's not the problem. Firstly, how do you define a moon?'

'It orbits… around… a planet?' said Ace. That was easy!

'But so do rocks and space debris.'

'So what's the difference – I mean – how do you decide what is a moon and what is a planet?'

'Planets orbit around suns and moons orbit around planets,' said the Doctor.

'And rocks?' she asked.

'Exactly,' said Spessogack, 'We don't know for sure. We also think that many of these moons were once planets.'

'Why's that?'

'There aren't any other planets in this solar system – a bi-solar system by the way. In fact, we think the larger sun may have been a planet that was then ignited by the other sun. It might not be a sun at all but just glow and radiate like one.'

The Doctor said, 'I think you'll find…' but he was interrupted.

'Another question…' Ace was warming to this.

'Go ahead,' said Spessogack.

'You're all very tall and…'

'Each moon has different gravity so on a moon that has much less gravity, people tend to be very tall – the ones who are born there that is. The great thing about moons, despite other drawbacks, is that you become lighter than you are on the planet – everything is much less effort.'

The Doctor spoke: 'Earth's moon is one-sixth the size of it, which is why, when you go back down onto the planet after a spell away, there's a problem. On Earth's moon, you get used to not weighing much but on Sirosan you go back to being heavy again and your bones and muscles can't take the strain, they might even break, so you need some sort of support to help you out.'

'So how do Time Lords survive travelling all over the place?' she asked.

Pigmal was listening carefully. 'Good question!' he said.

'We have our ways,' said the Doctor.

Spessogack looked at his feet, 'Disappointing answer…' he remarked.

'I have a question too…' said the Doctor.

'I hope, I can be more helpful,' Spessogack sighed.

'How come all the atmosphere doesn't just fly off into space, what with there being less gravity?'

'We use heavier gases to create a thicker upper atmosphere – and we replenish what little that does escape from time to time. And – well – the traction beam we used to rescue your time machine – that technology is used to help keep our atmosphere in place, just in case.'

'I don't like the sound of that – in case of what?' It was Ace again.

'Sometimes, the other moons, when they pass, have an unusual gravitational pull on our own moon and that means we need to hold onto the gases that make up our atmosphere. Of course, we can predict when this will happen – we can predict their orbits and the effects that they will have and therefore it means we know how and when to counter-act it all.'

'Are all the moons like this?'

'Good heavens, no! This is the best by far. For example, the reddish one you can just make out there – almost just a rock – that's a prison.'

'I guess it'll be hard to rehabilitate from that experience,' said the Doctor but no-one took any notice.

'And over there – let's see – we produce food on the 'Agricultural' Moon. There's a tiny moon slightly further out, which is a wild game reserve with a hunting continent and a conservation area, and a couple of moons belong to the military. They do things that even I don't know about…'

'Weapons testing?' asked the Doctor.

'That kind of thing, I imagine. Yes, I'm sure, they do a lot of that...'

Spessogack continued to explain to Ace, 'We've got a theme park and museum on one moon, which you can't see at the moment, even at night because it's on the other side of the planet, there's one for rubbish, mining takes place on all of them, unfortunately; we have a residential asteroid as well – in a rather elliptical orbit – not the kind of place I would choose to live but some do, and a number of rocks that aren't proper moons, full of lasers and other transmitters for communications and monitoring and defence. That's the long and the short of it, I think.'

Ace asked another: 'So what's the planet itself like? It looks so beautiful from here.'

'It's a wonderful planet but like many planets there are the good areas and the bad areas and I'm afraid that the latter have become predominant. You can live there but you have to take air-filters and back-ups, just in case.' Spessogack paused nostalgically. 'I wouldn't recommend the local food and drink. You also need to wear radiation cream all of the time – or anti-radiation cream if you see what I mean. Some say it's worth going just to see the sunsets – caused by all the air-pollution funnily enough – but I can't see that myself…'

'No, not really,' said the Time Lord.

Spessogack turned to him, 'What do you propose to do now?'

'I need to check the TARDIS again and hope it's ready.'

Spessogack came closer to the Doctor. 'While you're here,' he began, 'There is something I would like to ask you about, but maybe your assistant would like have a look around whilst we discuss it. I'm sure Pigmal will be happy to oblige.

Of all the nerve! I'm the Head of Policing Immigration not a Tourist Guide! Pigmal was beside himself with rage but he couldn't show it. 'Yes,' he said and called a guard to him.

'Perhaps,' said Spessogack to Pigmal, 'you might like to escort her personally.'

'Well, I think in the circumstances, it is important that we all hear what everyone else has to say. As Head of Immigration Control…'

'Very well,' said Spessogack, disappointed not to be rid of Pigmal.

'Ace?' asked the Doctor.

'Yeah, why not? A quick tour before we go. I'll leave you to it.' Having been cooped up in the TARDIS and then in a tinier cell, she yearned to get out and about and see something different.

Spessogack nodded to the guard who showed Ace the way out. Their eyes followed her progress then the Doctor turned to Spessogack, 'I'm sorry that we've put you to so much trouble and we're obviously grateful for being rescued. I hope we can be on our way and out of your hair as soon as possible.'

Pigmal raised his eyes at the hair expression, unknown in this area of the universe.

'On the contrary, Doctor, it's a pleasure to meet you. I've read so much about the Time Lords and your earlier dealings with our planet but I never thought I would have had the opportunity to meet one personally. However, I - we - were thinking,' began Spessogack. 'I'm sorry but we have something important to ask of you.'

'Of course. What would that be?'

'We would like you to help us locate something, Doctor.'

'Locate something? Like what?'

'Yes and I would also like you to be the epitome of discretion; in fact that is why I thought about asking you rather than someone else.'

The Doctor looked at the backs of his hands, one after the other. 'It's not normally my habit to run a lost and found service… You've lost what exactly?'

'Not, something, Doctor: someone. I want you to find a person.'

'Maybe if we…'

'… If we get to the point, Doctor?'

'Who would you like me to find?'

This time Spessogack's pause was more dramatic and longer. 'The Owner,' he said. 'Our Owner is missing'.

The Doctor's eyes widened. His mouth opened in surprise and it stayed open. Then he closed it again and felt quite normal.

'Are you all right, Doctor?'

'The Owner?'

'Yes. Do you know of him?'

'No. No, I hope not. I really hope it's not who I think it could be?'

'Really?' Spessogack felt the Doctor hadn't understood him. 'Well, who do you think it is?'

'It can't be who I think it is. No way. That was dealt with a long time ago.' The Doctor was lost in thought.

'Are you sure you are all right?' asked Spessogack. 'Are you ill? The atmosphere takes some time to get used to at first but…'

The Doctor waved Spessogack's concerns away. 'This Owner, character. Does he have any other names?' he enquired.

'Why, of course?'

'Which? Tell me some of them! Quickly.'

'Doctor, I don't think th…' Spessogack spluttered, unused to this style of questioning.

'Just tell me, will you, please? Now!'

The Doctor gave the Head of the Secret Services such a stare that it was all Spessogack could do but to say, 'The Owner is his name.'

'And how long has he been on this planet?'

'I'm sorry but I fail to understand how you would presume…'

'Look. You have a problem? You want it fixed. I need to know now.'

Spessogack gave a huge sigh. 'This moon you mean?'

'I mean, how long has he been present in this solar system, the planet, the moons, etc?'

'He was born here?'

'Can you prove that?'

'Prove it?' Spessogack was aghast. 'Look, I really don't think I should have to answer these que…'

'Yes, prove it! You do have standards of proof, don't you? That's your job, isn't it? Why is he called The Owner?'

'Because… But I really don't see what this has to do with anything?'

'Strange? As in: not himself?'

'I don't follow you, Doctor. Perhaps you would like to rest…'

'Do you want me to find him or don't you?'

Spessogack allowed a few moments to pass in order to take the sting out of the conversation. 'Yes, that's why we asked you Doctor.'

'Because he's a Time Lord?'

'A Time Lord?'

'Yes, you said you knew that Time Lord's have been here before…'

'The Owner is very clever,' said Spessogack, 'but I don't think he's a Time Lord.'

The Doctor seemed to be in a panic. 'Tell me what I want to know. Tell me everything about this Owner. The… Owner … of… what exactly?'

Spessogack raised a hand to his forehead. 'Look, I'm not answering any more of your questions until you calm down.'

'Answer!'

Spessogack gave a huge sigh. 'This moon,' he said.

'Really,' said the Doctor, looking down at his shoes. It wasn't a question. Then he suddenly seemed to be taken by panic again. 'Tell me. What's Owner written backwards?'

'I'm sorry?'

'What's The Owner, written, backwards? Spell it for me?'

Pigmal was first to respond. 'It's R – E – N – O – W – H – E - T.'

Spessogack intervened. 'I think you'll find it is R – E – N – W – O – E – H - T, actually'.

'And what does that mean to you?'

'To me?'

'Yes, to both of you. Come on, think!'

'Nothing,' said Pigmal, cooperating as much to spite Spessogack as to satisfy his own curiosity. This Doctor was clearly mad. What is he going on about? Still, he's doing a good job of flustering Spessogack. It's actually quite fun!

'Nothing,' agreed Spessogack.

'Okay, Okay.' The Doctor placed his palms on a table and stretched. 'Right. THINK! What does the word, retsam mean?'

'Repsam?'

'No, Retsam!'

Again the two shook their heads and stared at the Doctor perplexed.

'Have you ever heard of The Master?' said the Doctor, calmly now.

'The who?'

'The Master?'

Pigmal looked at Spessogack; the latter looked back at Pigmal and the Doctor stared at them both.

'Now, Doctor,' said Spessogack, with a sigh. 'Have you quite finished?'

The Doctor continued to stare. Then another thought flashed into his mind and he blurted out yet again. 'Does he have any other names, this Owner?

'Yes, Doctor, if you have any information that might assist us…'

'You have someone here called The Owner but no-one called The Master?'

'No, not that I know of,' said Pigmal.

'Not at all,' added Spessogack.

'I see,' concluded the Doctor.

'No, I don't think you do see Doctor. By The Owner we mean the man who established this moon as a settled franchise in its own right. The Owner.'

'A settled what?'

'He made his fortune down on Sirosan and bought real estate up here – over fifty-percent, which means he, effectively, controls the whole moon.'

'You can buy a moon?'

'No, it is a franchise to run the moon. It's leased to him for life. He runs a project for people who want to leave Sirosan and start afresh. Up here, there's little pollution, hardly any conflict, more law and order…'

'So why the need for Police, Secret Services, detention?'

'We like to think of it as a benign dictatorship, Doctor. Much better than what we had before, I assure you.'

Spessogack was now back in control of the conversation. The Doctor's behaviour was indeed eccentric but he put it down to the new atmosphere, which he knew could make non-residents rather paranoid to begin with.

He continued to explain. 'Down on the planet Sirosan, there might be a government and some military but there are no police as such. Up here on Sirosan-2, the people want to be policed. Down on Sirosan there is chaos, yet here we have peace and tranquillity and that simply comes from keeping order. We only ever intervene when there's a problem.'

The Doctor raised a sceptical eyebrow.

'The secret services exist because prevention is better than cure,' Spessogack assured him. 'You're a Doctor – I'm sure you would concur.'

'Well, I'm not sure I…'

'We have a problem with all the people from that planet who want to come here. If it was a bad place to live, everyone would be going in the other direction, don't you agree? Unfortunately, there are too many of them. They want a better life – who can blame them? Many of them are fleeing planetary warming and its effects but many are in criminal gangs.'

'Look. I understand. I didn't mean to be rude.'

'It's the atmosphere. You'll get used to it. It does that sometimes.' Spessogack glanced at Pigmal then back to the Doctor. 'I'll give you more background information when the time is right but I believe, as a Time Lord, you'll be the perfect person to investigate, where The Owner has got to.'

'It's none of my business…' The Doctor stood-up impatiently. 'If you don't mind…'

'But we do mind, Doctor. I'm sure you realise how important this is.'

'So let me get this straight: you've lost your… Owner, or whatever he's called, and… no-one knows it yet?'

'Well, we haven't lost him as such. We know where he is.' Spessogack smiled.

'Right…' said the Doctor, hesitating.

'He's in an experimental complex on the planet – he owns it, the complex - but we haven't had any recent contact.'

'Maybe he's not in his complex. Have you thought of that?'

'It's under surveillance. He can't have escaped,' said Pigmal.

'Escaped?'

'Forgive my colleague's choice of words,' said Spessogack. 'It isn't a prison. What we mean is that his movements would have been registered. He's also got bodyguards and a… um… a secret bodyguard, one who shadows The Owner from a distance.'

Pigmal hadn't known about this and he was determined to take it up when they had a chance to speak next.

'Couldn't he just be ill? Or busy?'

'That's true but we have trackers on his person and they are not responding. They check for his heartbeat and a couple of other vital signs.'

'And?'

'And we're getting nothing. Not a zero heartbeat with normal body temperature or cold dead body but heart just about beating – we're getting NOTHING back.'

'The trackers might have run out of power?'

'ALL of them?'

'The signal's blocked?'

'We can exclude that – the complex he was last seen in – has relays all over the place.'

'You mean to say that no-one's been to check on him.'

'No. When he doesn't want to be disturbed he mustn't be disturbed. He insists on that. That's why trackers and secret bodyguards have been used.'

Pigmal had long suspected that the Secret Services worked in this way but now it was being laid bare.

'Why me?' asked the Doctor. 'Can't someone just go and knock on his door and if he doesn't answer, break into his quarters? I'm sure he would understand.'

Spessogack said bluntly, 'We don't want to draw attention to ourselves.'

'You mean, that people might find out you use trackers and suchlike.'

'Sort of, yes.'

'Well, I take a dim view of this. I mean, if you just explain it in terms of security – that's if you feel that you have to explain things…'

'You don't fully understand, Doctor. The Owner is meant to be an ordinary citizen. There is meant to be a separation between his role as an entrepreneur and private citizen on the one hand and any political status. He's banned from political life so he's not supposed to have all of these resources spent on looking for him. This moon is officially part of Sirosan and technically we're governed from the planet below – it's a very delicate situation. There's a local Planning Authority here that expresses the views, to a certain extent, of the people. The Owner is merely – officially – a private citizen who just happens to own the franchise until he passes on. We don't want to have too much attention on this. Do you understand?'

'Right,' said the Doctor, 'but that isn't my doing.'

'Another problem,' said Spessogack 'is that of what happens if something fatal has happened.'

'What can I do?'

'You need to let us know first – report to us before anyone else finds out.'

'Because if the people know before it is announced, it could become a political problem?' asked the Doctor.

'And financial,' added Pigmal, clumsily.

'Oh, of course! I see it now. That's the most important thing!' the Doctor was humouring his hosts. 'But wait a minute: it would be easier to find a missing person if everyone knew they'd gone missing.'

'Yes, but…' The two glanced furtively at one another. 'We do fear the worst.'

'So, you're telling me that despite all of this policing and surveillance and so on, that you've managed to lose him? Ha!'

The two had nothing to say but their blank expressions spoke volumes.

'He went down on Sirosan, we know that,' said Pigmal. 'He was involved in a special project but that's not relevant. He was with a scientist when he went missing.'

'A scientist, you say?'

'He was in a laboratory.'

'I'm sorry if this sounds like a stupid question but you really are losing me: why can't you speak to this scientist?'

Spessogack intervened again. 'I've told you Doctor - we can't just to that. We have authority here on Sirosan-2 but not down there. Relations are already strained somewhat.'

'So that's why you want someone to go covertly to find him'

'That's right. You. No-one will suspect you.'

'I'm not from here. I'll stand out like a sore thumb. I've never dreamt of being a spy.'

'No-one will suspect that you are looking for the Owner,' said Spessogack. Even Pigmal appreciated this point.

'I still don't see why you can't just alert the authorities on the planet?'

Spessogack smiled kindly. The Doctor realised the implications – that if it became common knowledge that The Owner had disappeared, there would be, at best, unpredictable consequences. Like nature and space, political power abhors a vacuum.

'We don't know for sure what has happened to him but we have to fear the worse. We don't have too much time. People will start asking questions if he isn't seen in public for a while. He courts publicity, after all.'

'Foul play?'

'I don't know what to think, Doctor. It's a problem we could all have done without. But the franchise of this moon lasts as long as The Owner lives. After that…'

'What happens?'

'We've lobbied from the beginning that the franchise should pass down to his children but that's been hit on the head legally. Instead, the franchise will have to be put up for tender and, without doubt, the winner will be Montented. It's he who has the most money and he already has the advantage of owning another moon.'

'So, what would change? One dictator for another? What of it?'

Pigmal frowned and looked at Spessogack. Not every humanoid in the universe used frowning to express a negative emotion but it was, as the Doctor had once told Ace, understood by most.

Spessogack spoke once more. 'If you choose to stay in this solar system and explore our planet and its moons and perhaps take a trip down to Sirosan – that is, if you want to do so - then please be our guest…'

'Can't someone else do it? I mean, if this chap is dead then people will have to know sooner or later. I can't change that can I? Too little too late and all that?'

'Whatever information you find you must keep to yourself. If The Owner is dead, we want to be the first to know – it mustn't leak out - but if he's alive, someone will also have to accompany him back…'

The Doctor was tiring of the conversation. 'I see. And none of you have the, er, resources to do that? Surely, that traction beam should do the trick. Just haul him in like a fish as you did with me.'

Pigmal looked anxious – he wasn't used to this sort of behaviour from anyone, much less an illegal alien.

Spessogack took a deep breath in frustration, another humanoid characteristic that the Doctor described as uniquely humanoid. 'I don't think you understand the seriousness of the situation, Doctor. It's not about resources; it's about persuading The Owner to return.'

'You mean, persuading him even if he doesn't want to come?'

'We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.'

The Doctor huffed and puffed. Do these people enjoy making things difficult? 'What if I decline?' he asked dispassionately.

'Why would you refuse us, Doctor?' Spessogack paused for effect. 'Are your appearance and The Owner's disappearance somehow related?'

'You're saying that I have no choice?'

'Of course you do, Doctor,' Spessogack assured him. 'Of course, you have a choice…'

The Doctor looked around the room, studied his shoes then gripped the cuffs of his coat sleeves. His eyes turned towards Pigmal then Spessogack looking the pair of them up and down in turn, then he placed a hand over his mouth before copying the human frown and deep breath he'd once found so curious. Finally, he spoke again shaking his head slowly from left to right and back again.

'One look at you two and I know that whatever choice I might have isn't going to be as free as you make it out to be.'

'My primary suspicion was that this was a fake case of amnesia. There are generally two types of faking: unconscious faking which is a 'conversion disorder' such as catatonia, and a 'factitious disorder' which is where the patient is consciously faking but perhaps doesn't know why. Why the suspicion? Because complete loss of identity is rare. It can be a psychological defence, escaping reality as in people attempting suicide.'

'What we did first was scan the brain and carry out blood tests for abnormalities: the results were abnormal but inconclusive. Something's happened to his blood and brain but for now we can't figure out what.'

'Abreaction has been tried out - using sedatives in the hope that unconscious thoughts will emerge but with no luck...'

'We suggest that the time is right to move the patient from a secure ward to an open one, where he will continue to be treated for psychological illness.'

Chapter 8

Idiacoz and Bersgaard worked in a vast research centre on the Sirosan-2 Moon. Due to the lower gravity on the moon it was possible for Anti-Gravity to power the lifts. Down on Planet Sirosan, the new technology wasn't strong enough to overcome the so-called Weak Force. Even though it still needed more research, funds had dried up long ago with most of the planet's oceans and rivers.

'That's better,' declared Idiacoz. 'I feel more awake now.'

'This lift's enough to send anyone to sleep – it's a depressed lift. Having to stop fifty times to let people get in and out? I prefer the old-fashioned ones that just took you up and down and let you walk the rest.'

'If it wasn't for this lift, we wouldn't be chatting now.'

'Then we mustn't leave it to chance next time,' said Bersgaard.

Idiacoz started to say something, hesitated and then mumbled, 'I have to get to work now.'

'I'll come with you,' insisted Bersgaard, 'just to check up on you…'

'What? Checking up? Listen. Are you doing anything interesting, this evening?' asked Idiacoz, coyly.

'No… Why? You're not really suggesting…'

'What?'

'You mean, you don't want to stay in and read all your dull manuscripts as usual?'

Idiacoz sighed. 'I deserve a night off,' she said.

'I don't believe you.' Bersgaard cocked her head sideways and grinned. 'You'll call me at the last minute and say that something has come up and you can't come.'

Idiacoz met her gaze and stuck out her chin. 'Try me,' she challenged.

'Okay… well…' She hesitated and sighed wearily. 'No! We've been down that road before… I don't want to get into all that again.'

'You don't know what you'll be missing…' Idiacoz liked to tease her friend.

'I do know. I'll be all dressed up and you'll call to say that you have to stay in and research the gravitational fields of the twin suns or something.'

'That's not fair,' said Idiacoz frowning. 'I had no choice on that occasion – you know that. I have a choice now.'

'And you're choosing me?'

'Like I said: try me!'

'Better get to work, eh?!' said Bersgaard but Idiacoz stood her ground and her eyes demanded Bersgaard gave an answer.

'Look, I'd like to see you this evening, honestly, but I can't stand being let down at the last minute every time. I have a life as well.'

'I know, I've said I'm sorry.'

'You always say you're sorry.' Bersgaard grew angry and had to work hard to suppress it.

'Go on. You know you want to,' affirmed Idiacoz. 'What else have you got to do that's so interesting this evening?'

'Well…'

'Well?'

'Well, tonight I might just have a date with a friend?'

Idiacoz laughed aloud then caught her breath and said, 'Ha!'

'A very dear person, who always lets me down at the last minute because she's so diligent about her job…'

'Was,' Idiacoz corrected her.

'Is,' said Bersgaard.

'Okay – am – but…' Idiacoz fixed her friend in the eye and told her: 'Just say yes.'

'Okay: Yes…'

'Good… Now, I had better get to work; otherwise I won't have time to go out on my date this evening.'

'Is that what you call it?' asked Bersgaard teasing her friend back.

'Why not?' replied Idiacoz.

From her shoulder bag, Idiacoz began placing her belongings on a surface, matter-of-factly, until she pulled out a pair of Goggles.

Bersgaard looked at the table in front of them, 'Nice,' she smirked. 'Are you wearing them tonight?'

'They're from the lab,' Idiacoz explained. 'Do you want a go?'

'They don't suit me,' Bersgaard laughed, 'and I haven't got time.'

'They're great – I get all my messages sent here now.' She picked up the Goggles and put them on her head.

'Perhaps I had better get to work now,' said Bersgaard less than enthusiastic. 'Don't turn up tonight with those on though, or I won't let you in.'

'Yes, you will,' said Idiacoz. 'I know you will.'

Chapter 9

Less than one Planetary Orbit after they'd met, in a well-publicised launch at the SkyLights project's spanking new centre on Sirosan-2, Farockaway and The Owner announced the beginning of a thorough investigation into the phenomena and both of them outlined the importance of resolving this mystery once and for all for the benefit of everyone. 'Who knows – the future of the solar system might one day be dependent on this research.'

The Owner emphasised that eventual tapping into the SkyLights would not only bring a further source of 'clean energy' back to Planet Sirosan, but would shed more light on the planet's past and possible future. It was left to Farockaway to explain that one in more detail.

A journalist, clearly not from The Owner's network – more likely his rival Montented's - asked The Owner, 'What's in it for you? After all, your own moon is hardly going to benefit from all this energy, is it?'

'It is a way of giving something back,' replied The Owner. 'A healthy Planet Sirosan equals the good health of Sirosan-2 and the other moons.'

The journalist managed a wry smile then turned his fire on Farockaway, asking whether he might be said to have sold out his principals.

Before formally agreeing to work for The Owner, Farockaway appeared to take his time. In reality, almost immediately when the offer was hinted at, he decided that he would accept and subsequently spent the rest of his time thinking of reasons not to work for The Owner, none of which convinced him.

Farockaway was under no illusions who he'd be dealing with. No doubt, one day, were they to cross swords, he might also see the reputed darker side of The Owner but for now, he didn't view it as an obstacle. Besides The Owner's rivals Montented and Swebobex were just as controversial and possessed even fewer, if any, redeeming social skills. And it wasn't as if the alternatives were that interesting either.

Farockaway had worked on secret projects for the armed forces in his time, developing energy sources that had both civil but also military applications. He consoled himself that, whatever the realities of The Owner's empire, at least he wasn't working for the military any more.

Farockaway confided in Idiacoz, the daughter of a colleague with whom he had enjoyed a long and close professional and personal relationship. 'I'm not getting any younger. My heyday has passed. I still believe in the Anti-Gravity Vehicle but I'm not upset or particularly disillusioned any more. Interests beyond us dictate that.'

'The same interests that are polluting the planet?' added Idiacoz. 'Maybe even The Owner's interests?'

'It's a dilemma, what to do, but I'm not the one responsible. It's just a job.'

'My abiding fear would be that if the military took too much interest, you might end up being made to work for them again,' she said. 'You know, seconded by them.'

'Well, at least, whatever we think of The Owner, this project isn't about profits or politics as such or even the military. I came up with it myself as a distraction, do you remember? If The Owner is going to fund knowledge for the sake of knowledge, then that's surely a good thing… There aren't likely to be any military applications to this work… not yet at least…'

'No-one's forcing you to say yes.'

'Okay. But what are the alternatives? I can retire as we've said – but that's not on yet. I could write my memoirs, but why bother when there are already biographies better than anything I could do. If you do any work in the media, it's Montented, Swebobex or The Owner anyway…'

'It's the funding,' she said.

'It's the funding,' he repeated. 'Who else will put their hand in their pocket? Clean energy for planet Sirosan, putting something back and making amends. The Owner doesn't have to do this.'

'What's in it for him?'

'As I told you, Space Weather, his reputation and the broadcasting rights. Maybe the old bastard is getting philanthropically minded in his old age, wants to be loved, not die hated, perhaps he knows his time is up. He's no spring chicken anymore. None of us are.'

'Speak for yourself,' said Idiacoz trying to catch her own reflection in a glass panel to her left.

Farockaway's – or The Owner's – project was indeed well-resourced and within 25 Orbits had proved that data was indeed stored in the planet's magnetic field and that the solar winds were displaying this data. It was easier to work this out from a plush purpose built complex on the Sirosan-2 Moon than from down on the surface of Planet Sirosan itself, however the main experimental labs remained on the planet, meaning that Farockaway and his team occasionally had to commute.

The team were looking forward to making a public announcement and Farockaway had been to see his boss.

'What did The Owner say?' asked Idiacoz – who had reluctantly been convinced to follow Farockaway into the project rather than find alternative employment.

'About going public? Well, he said he prefers to wait until we have something more concrete – not just a retrieval theory but a retrieval prototype.'

She looked disappointed but said, 'I suppose he's right about that. People don't really understand how significant a small observation can be. They only understand the results and concrete applications. '

'He asked me, what breakthrough there is to be shown off and I said that I had to agree.'

However, the breakthrough, when it did come, was also to remain confidential. In between Farockaway showing that data was stored inside the planet and finding a way to retrieve and sequence it, he was to discover something else. In common with many a scientific discovery, throughout the universe – throughout all universes and all of the dimensions they exist in – it was simply the result of an unexpected coincidence.

A knock at the door from the military was a frightful experience. Things were better these days but Farockaway was old enough to remember when they weren't. He was fast asleep when it happened – when it nearly always happens.

Of course the guards didn't actually knock with their hands because all doors could recognise visitors anyway and announce their presence in words, some even by name. The other reason they didn't knock was because they didn't have to. They simply over-rode the door's computer system and entered.

'You must come with us,' said the first guard, a second standing behind by the door.

It was still dark but thousands, if not millions of images raced in front of Farockaway's eyes. The guards had arrived. Images of torture, beatings, incarceration, disappearances, 'accidents'… Farockaway had never suffered these, but he knew, like everyone else of a certain age, that they had happened, and that, somewhere or other, they were certainly still happening.

'You're fine,' said the guard. 'You're not in any trouble. We have been given orders to escort you to your workplace.'

Such reassurances did nothing for Farockaway's disposition. He was scared. Who wouldn't be?

In silence and now with a hood over his head, Farockaway was taken to his laboratories. What had they found? Was he under suspicion for collaborating with The Owner? Had The Owner finally failed to evade justice? Was he being framed? Was there a coup? Would he ever see the planet's twin suns and numerous moons ever again?

Inside the labs, there was no attempt to restrain Farockaway but he knew he wouldn't get far if he did try to run for it. Still dazed and confused, panic raced through him.

Sensing this, the guard said, 'Really, you're not in trouble. Nothing bad has happened. I know how it looks.'

Farockaway felt relieved when the hood was removed to find that he hadn't been whisked off to a 'Reception Centre'. In fact, he was led into a hall, where most of his team was seated, in various states of unease, around a conference table. Were they all going to be tried and disappeared?

Either side of a vacant chair at the head of the table sat Pigmal who was in charge of the Immigration Department for Sirosan-2 Military Police - as well as a man who would later be referred to as Spessogack. As Farockaway took his place towards the opposite end, The Owner appeared from behind him and made his way into the gap between Pigmal and Spessogack.

'Thank you all for coming,' said The Owner as if they had had a choice. 'Let me first apologise about the secretive way it was all done – and the timing. We really have had no alternative.'

Shoulders around the table un-tensed. Everyone began to breathe more easily.

'I'd like to thank the Head of Immigration Policing, Pigmal and the Security Services Deputy Commissioner, Spessogack, for allowing me to explain the situation to you.'

A three dimensional image emerged on a raised surface in front of everyone.

The Owner continued speaking. 'Half a Season ago, scientists at the Extra Solar Research Centre, began picking up a signal from somewhere in deep space. Now as we know, new forms of life are constantly being discovered and new planets observed but, apart from the Maggzillzz, most are too far away from us to be of much consequence. Even though it was strange for the signal to be so strong, we just thought it was the Maggzillzz involved one way or the other in something harmless.'

The Maggzillzz, Farockaway remembered, were a fairly ambitious and sometimes hostile civilisation but their planet was so far away that an invasion or any other serious threat was unlikely, particularly because, unlike the Maggzillzz, the people of Sirosan already possessed technology capable of destroying whole planets in the blink of an eye. The Maggzillzz were too busy invading small planets and enslaving relatively primitive societies to risk it.

The Owner continued. 'I have been asked, and I have accepted, a request by the Sirosan-2 military to place my resources at their disposal. We need you, using the resources I've made available, to find out as much about this signal and its source as possible. That's for you all to find out. I'm sure I can count on your co-operation and understanding that for the time being – let's hope it is no longer than absolutely necessary – the entire SkyLights Project, team and resources have been commandeered by the military. The technology and techniques currently being used on the SkyLights Project will make a vital contribution in resolving this matter as soon as possible.' He turned to Spessogack and Pigmal. 'Is there anything, either of you would like to add?'

Pigmal stood up as if to make a long and meaningful speech. 'This has to remain confidential. You are being co-opted, for a time, into the military. Therefore, everything must remain top secret.' He sat down again.

There was a pause before anyone else spoke. Pigmal looked nervous.

Spessogack by contrast just smiled confidently. The message was clear that if anyone passed on information to the outside world, the security services would know about it. After all, on this moon one knew that the secret services were privy to everyone's secrets.

'Any questions?' asked The Owner.

Idiacoz raised a hand, which appeared to irritate The Owner.

'When you say military? Whose military? I thought that the Blue Moon didn't have a military: that the military were under direct control from Sirosan itself.'

The Owner had been wrong-footed. He stared back at the researcher. 'Yes, we are fully aware of that and have informed the authorities on Sirosan, however this is not a military operation as such, merely about responding to a perceived danger. As the local authority, however, we also have to have some say over what happens on Sirosan-2, we have a responsibility to speak out. This is a joint exercise and as you can imagine, I am also making my own resources available…'

Idiacoz felt that he hadn't really answered the question and she raised her hand again.

'Just time for a quick one,' said The Owner.

'Are you saying that there is no such thing as Sirosan-2 military?'

The Owner began to stand and leave. He looked away from Idiacoz then back at her. 'As I've just told you, the military who are here, are accountable to the government of Sirosan-2. Now, if you'll excuse me, both you and I have a lot of work to do.'

Idiacoz immediately turned to the scientist. 'Is that it? Shouldn't they tell us more?'

The Owner had been walking away but now turned and summoned Farockaway to him with a curling finger.

Standing up the scientist told her, 'I guess that I'm about to find that out.'

Chapter 10

Inside the quarters provided for Ace and the Doctor, a communication channel was opened Ace's features appeared on the screen.

'Ah, Ace. Having fun? Where are you? Impressive views, eh?'

'Sorry?'

'I mean these people we were with earlier… Dull as dishwater. I wish I'd joined you sightseeing.'

'You mean you don't know?'

'Know? Know what?'

'I'm on planet Sirosan?'

'Where? Sirosan? What, in orbit, you mean?' The Doctor looked away from the screen and stared at the planet through a window. There was no way that the spacecraft she was in could be seen with the naked eye but he looked for it nevertheless.

'No, I'm not in orbit Doctor, I'm on the surface.'

'The surface? Right? What it's like?'

'I was just brought here. I don't know why. No-one said anything.'

'Well, have a good time and I'll see you in while. Don't be late for supper. Or should I dine alone?'

'Doctor, I don't think you understand. I don't think they mean for me to come back.'

The Doctor's expression changed. His head bobbed up and down. 'Very smart,' is all he replied at a volume he thought Ace wouldn't be able to hear.

Through the window, The Doctor continued to gaze at the planet before focusing on his own reflection. Guilty or Not Guilty?

'What do you mean?' Ace wanted to know, snapping the Doctor back.

'Look Ace, the people we met before have asked me to stay on and help. So if you're planning on staying down on the planet…'

'And you said that you would?'

'I beg your pardon. Er, well. Yes. Yes, I did, in the end.' The Doctor looked apologetic.

'YOU DID WHAT?' she shouted.

The Doctor's arm had been twisted not so much with the threat of detention for illegal immigration, nor with the moral high-ground about being rescued but because Ace was effectively being held hostage. He didn't want to alarm her – if she believed herself captive, she would escape and either get herself killed or hide so brilliantly he imagined, that he'd never be able to find her again, therefore he simply shrugged his shoulders and took the blame. 'What's wrong with that?' he said.

'You never said there was any intention of staying here, that's what. We didn't want to come here so why would we want to stay here?'

The Doctor spoke over the top of Ace. 'Neither did I but we're here now… How about we visit all the moons?'

'We won't have time now, will we? Because we're going to be busy as usual!'

'I'm sorry, if I'd have known how you felt…

Ace didn't reply. She was either very angry or very upset or both. Then she said, 'You could at least have bothered to ask me, even tell me. But no, you just went ahead and did it!'

'Look, I'll just find this Owner chap they've mislaid in no time and we can spend the rest of our trip visiting the moons, enjoying the sunsets... What about that?'

'I'm not a baby you know. You don't have to take me out to play.'

'Come on… Look on the bright side. They rescued us. If it wasn't for them, we'd be… Do they have a cemetery moon here?'

'There's everything else…'

The Doctor stared out of the window again. To Ace it seemed like he was trying to hide his shame for having acted unilaterally.

'Look, Ace,' he pleaded as he faced the monitor. 'Please put yourself in my shoes. I could hardly say no, now could I? Given that he's asked me and I've already told him yes. What was I supposed to say, Thanks for the rescue but we'll be on our way, we don't owe you anything, goodbye! What if the TARDIS stalls again and we need rescuing once more?

Ace understood. She said, 'No, but…'

'But what? Come on. You'll enjoy yourself. You don't want to be stuck in the TARDIS all the time, do you?'

'You did say, back in the TARDIS, that I could choose where to go,' she said.

'Next time, I promise but now… Look at that view,' said the Doctor 'Isn't that special?'

Ace was stuck in an empty room and could see nothing. 'Wow!' she said sarcastically.

'I'm just doing a favour for someone who saved our lives. He said I would be ideal because no-one will suspect me and with you around…' The Doctor rethought what he was about to say and didn't say it.

Ace had released some of the anger and frustration from her system. Sure enough, going back into the TARDIS didn't appeal to her either – and what the Doctor said was right – they were here now, whether she liked it or not. 'I suppose you're right,' she said and then perked up realising that, if the Doctor wasn't around, it was her chance to take greater responsibility. 'So where shall I start looking for him then?'

'Who?'

'The missing man.'

'You? I think you should just stay put, Ace. Don't wander off; that kind of thing. You know the drill.'

As soon as the words had left his lips, the Doctor realised his mistake.

'Okay, Doctor.'

'Look, just hang on there – I'll be down. We'll just go through the motions. The Owner's bound to show up somewhere. If the Security Services can't find him, nobody can, certainly not me.'

Ace liked a challenge – the more difficult the better. I bet I can find him, she thought. And what's more, I'll do it on my own.

At times, as much as she normally enjoyed the company of the Doctor, Ace had thought lately about going somewhere else, of leaving the TARDIS, going it alone in the battle between good and evil. The universe was so vast, the battle so ubiquitous, there was bound to be a role for her. The Doctor could be irritable and impossible on occasions, like he seemed to enjoy making fun of her, playing the expert, patronising her as if he really didn't want her around.

'Why can't you just stop trying to treat me like a little girl?' she'd recently demanded back in the TARDIS.

The Doctor had sighed and stared at her wordlessly. 'Do I?' he asked eventually.

She smiled. 'Sometimes you try to but,' she paused to see his reaction, 'naturally enough, I don't allow you.'

'You're not a little girl Ace, I know, and I'm sorry if I might sometimes treat you like one.'

Ace continued to hold her gaze on the Doctor.

He said, 'I mean, I am a few hundred years your senior. It's hard not to come across as patronising sometimes.'

Ace's sceptic expression continued to trouble the Doctor.

'All right, I admit, it's hard not to be patronising. It's just that… you … yes… I mean, you can also be a handful at times.'

She frowned.

'You're a strong woman, I know. Sometimes too strong and… I don't mean… I suppose… I suppose sometimes I fear that I might… er… put you in danger or that, well… er, because you take initiatives and have an… an air of independence that… I feel somehow… responsible… yes, that's the word, responsible, for you…'

Ace smiled broadly.

'I couldn't stand it if anything happened to you because of me,' said the Doctor. 'It's not like I under-estimate you or anything… despite… er… how it sometimes seems…' The Doctor gulped.

Ace allowed the Doctor to wallow in his discomposure a little longer then said, 'You know, it's like I go from hand-to-hand combat with Daleks one minute then afterwards I'm spending what seems like forever in the TARDIS. It's not easy to wind down after a day out zapping the monsters.'

'I've never thought of it like that. I suppose I've been doing this for so long that I've just learn to switch off when nothing's happening.'

Ace started laughing. 'I get such a buzz - one minute cheating death two-thousand light years from home; the next… you know? It's like I need the action to keep me sane. I'm not one for sitting round being a girly.'

'Too right,' reflected the Doctor. 'Neither am I.'

Ace laughed out loud. 'That would be fun to see.'

'What?'

'You as a girly.'

'I think I prefer my own clothes thank you. But Ace, you have to learn when to save your strengths. And you have to be able to use your mind as a weapon too, not just a baseball bat.'

'I know this already, Doctor, really I do and I agree. But I love action, not being cooped up. Sometimes I just want to smash my way through the door, get into the thick of some agro! If I sit around here with nothing to do, I end up finding things to moan about and suppose I come across like a spoilt brat. But I hate spoilt brats. I don't want to get like that. Ever.'

The Doctor shifted uncomfortably from side to side. He was still finding it hard not to sound condescending. 'I'll try to be more considerate, next time,' he said.

'Please. It's not consideration I want Doctor. I know you consider me. I want to be treated equally. I expect to be treated equally. Got it?'

'Understood,' said the Doctor, having been reproached. 'Now Ace, if you could please just go into the kitchen and make me a nice cup of tea…'

Ace held a rigid expression. 'See this toy?' she said tapping a large baseball bat into her left palm with her right hand. 'If it can knock six bells out of a Dalek, just think of the dents it can put into that kettle.'

The Doctor stood up again. 'Why's it always me who has to make the tea?' he said, shuffling out of the room.

The Doctor always made the tea. He was, after all, a perfectionist, and particular about tea varieties, loose blends and temperatures. The Doctor would never choose to drink tea from a mere tea bag, not even a round one or a pyramid shape.

Ace deliberately waited couple of seconds before shouting after him. 'Milk and two sugars, please! And don't forget the biscuits!'

Back on, Sirosan-2 the Doctor asked to speak to Spessogack again and a communication channel was opened in the Doctor's quarters.

'I must say that I'm disappointed that you don't trust me,' he began.

Spessogack looked puzzled. 'Are you referring to your companion, Doctor?'

'It wasn't necessary to kidnap her.'

'There was a technical problem on board her flight. It was suggested to the pilot that landing on the nearest base would be the most prudent course of action in the circumstances.'

'So much for choice!'

'We've rescued her twice now – would you have preferred she crashed? The pilot was taking her sightseeing – he's trained for emergencies but not up to the level of a military pilot. You seem to imply that that we've taken her to Sirosan deliberately but I can assure you, we acted in good faith.'

'I told you that I'd go and find your Owner chap…'

'Which is why, kidnapping your companion would have been pointless.' Spessogack was shaking his head vigorously. 'You've already given your word that you will help us. At least her arrival on Sirosan will save her a pointless extra journey. So, tell me, when do you intend to go there?'

'As soon as possible,' said the Doctor. As if there was any other possible reply!

'Good. I'll arrange it. Maybe you ought to get a little rest first, Doctor. Is there anything else?'

Chapter 11

In Bersgaard's home on Sirosan-2, there was a buzzing sound, which began quietly but steadily increased in volume.

'Yes?' said Bersgaard, then she sighed and said, 'Don't tell me, Idiacoz …'

'Come over. I've got something to show you.'

'An old manuscript?'

'No,' urged Idiacoz. 'Just come over.'

Bersgaard had been let down too many times by Idiacoz before. What's the game now?

They'd arranged to meet, time and place, but now Idiacoz, who was renowned for breaking appointments, was changing arrangements at the last minute. 'You were supposed to come here,' Bersgaard reminded her friend.

'Okay – I'll be there as soon as I can.'

'You're improving,' was all Bersgaard said just before their communication had ended but, in the back of her mind, she was annoyed that Idiacoz had tried to get out of their arrangement, perhaps in the hope that Bersgaard would call off their meeting, and it would look like it was she who had been inflexible. Whatever the case, this request – a simple one on the face of it – had already put the dampers on a potentially bright evening. Idiacoz was turning the tables – or had threatened to. There's no tying that woman down!

A short time later, the white panelled door to Bersgaard's quarters announced, 'IDIACOZ - IS - HERE!'

'Open,' said Bersgaard and she clicked her fingers three times. The point of this was to avoid the door responding every time the word 'open' was mentioned in conversation. Otherwise, if you were to ask a guest, 'Shall I open this bottle?' your door would move for no reason.

'See?' said Idiacoz as if nothing had happened.

'You were trying to get out of it,' said Bersgaard more in accusation than as a question.

'No,' replied Idiacoz, 'I just wanted to show you something – something I couldn't risk bringing with me - but I can tell you instead.'

'Well, sit down first,' said Bersgaard, leading the way into her home.

Idiacoz, looking round at a spacious if rather white apartment, commenting that her friend hadn't lost her good taste.

'Go on then. What is it?' asked Bersgaard scarcely suppressing a sigh. She was never keen on surprises.

Idiacoz paused. She didn't quite know where to begin. 'You know my Goggles – from the library?'

'Right? What about them?'

'Well, there's a message inside them.'

'Yes, well, you have already said they do that,' answered Bersgaard hastily. 'But look, I'll try them out another time. I wouldn't mind…'

Idiacoz interrupted her impatiently. 'There was a message.'

Bersgaard turned and attended to something. 'From whom? An admirer? I'm jealous,' she called over her shoulder, unable to comprehend why Idiacoz was making a fuss about nothing.

Bersgaard still didn't understand why something so trivial would have Idiacoz trying to change their arrangements. It was hardly an apology.

'If you'd have come over, I could have shown you,' said Idiacoz.

'Couldn't you bring them here? I mean, Can't you just tell me?' said Bersgaard, now a little disorientated.

'There's a strange message,' Idiacoz told her. 'From Farockaway.'

'He wants to see you tonight?' Bersgaard laughed. Bersgaard often laughed, even when things weren't funny.

'Well, sort of but… but not exactly tonight. It was weird.'

'You know what he's like?'

'Yes, but he never contacts me on the Goggles…'

'So he's taken to you as well, as he?' Bersgaard tapped a foot impatiently on her black and white tiled floor.

'Just listen to me,' said Idiacoz, sounding less fuzzy now.

Bersgaard raised her head and met her friend's glance. 'Well, what about it? It is about me?' she enquired sarcastically.

'I don't know. It's just something about a project.'

'Oh, how dull!' exclaimed Bersgaard and was about to say something even more dismissive when Idiacoz spoke again…

'Yes, I thought so too but…' She learned towards her friend and whispered conspiratorially, 'There's a bit at the end.'

'Ooh. I love a scandal,' said Bersgaard, who did no such thing and didn't expect this one to amount to much either.

'Listen to me,' shushed Idiacoz. 'Farockaway…' She pointlessly looked around to see whether anyone was listening, 'says that he needs to pass some information to me and he says to keep it confidential. There's a file that I've been told to hide and he says not to take any risks. He told me to hide the Goggles somewhere safe, not to wander around with them, to keep them where I know they can't be stolen. That's why I wanted you to come over to me.'

'Well, so what?' blurted out Bersgaard, having none of it. 'These cranky scientists are always paranoid about something. They're always losing things. Who's going to steal a pair of Goggles? You're taking it all too seriously, if you ask me. Maybe it's one of his silly practically jokes or hoaxes.'

'The message says that the project we're working on and… well… I can't tell you all about that but…' She tried again. 'He's got some information that needs to remain secret for now…'

Bersgaard was unhappy at having her evening hijacked in this way. She shrugged her shoulders. 'So why are you telling me?'

'He told me to confide in you and you only.'

'Me?'

'That's right. He says that if he goes missing for any reason, or I go missing for any reason, then someone must know about it.'

Bersgaard got to her feet again. 'Idiacoz, try to be more precise. I have no idea where you are going with this!'

'Well, if you'd have come over, I could have shown you.'

'Is the whole evening going to be like this?'

'Okay, there are things that he doesn't want The Owner to find out.'

'I can imagine but… Look, you need to calm down. You're losing perspective. What things? Tell me what's going on… slowly this time'

'You said you didn't want to know…'

'Go on, go on. I do want to know.'

'He's worried about The Owner interfering in one of his projects; he's worried that the technology might fall into the wrong hands. He's worried that The Owner…'

'The Owner, all the time?' Bersgaard frowned again. 'We've heard it all before, haven't we?'

'Are you going to listen or what?'

'Well, I did have other plans tonight,' replied Bersgaard, irritated that she wasn't being allowed to relax as hoped.

'They can wait.' Idiacoz put on a serious expression again.

'Can they?' said Bersgaard, half-offended, half-frightened that there might be something serious behind this after all.

'Farockaway thinks The Owner could be being blackmailed.'

Bersgaard burst out laughing, relieved to finally discover what was on Idiacoz's mind and that it wasn't very serious after all. 'Oh yes, because he needs the money, doesn't he?'

'Money isn't everything,' Idiacoz told her friend. 'Someone may have some dirt on The Owner and Farockaway is worried that the technology could end up being taken out of his hands.' Idiacoz reached out and held Bersgaard's arms as she made to protest, 'He says the Maggzillzz may be, he calls it, 'compromising' The Owner and that this could threaten the whole of Sirosan and Sirosan-2. He said that the future of the universe is at stake!'

'Oh, yeah! As if…'

'He said that it's the SkyLights that have been poisoning the planet, that people think The Owner who's done is the culprit but it's really the solar winds. He says that planetary warming is a lie - just as my father used to say!'

Bersgaard shook her head. 'He's just having you on. It's all a joke. You know, a practical joke, that's all. I'm sorry for what happened to your father and how people made fun of his ideas but…

Idiacoz stopped her friend. 'That's what I thought but…'

Bersgaard continued, 'You have to accept that he did get it wrong. Look what's happened on Sirosan.'

Idiacoz turned away and sat down. 'OK, so it happened - but not for the reasons we've been fed.'

Bersgaard tried to put things as delicately as possible and she moved closer to her friend. 'Your father did a lot of good work, he was a brilliant scientist but he wasn't to know what would eventually happen and why. I'm sorry but the state of Sirosan is the result of planetary warming. He said it wouldn't happen but it did.'

Idiacoz felt anxious. 'It killed my father in the end. I'm convinced of it.'

Bersgaard allowed a suitable pause in the conversation then said, 'I mean, getting back to Farockaway, why didn't he just tell you all this in person. He tells you everything else.'

Idiacoz didn't like that remark because it was true that Farockaway did always confide in her. Well, she thought he did because what was emerging now was that there were many things Farockaway obviously hadn't said.

Their close relationship began when Idiacoz's father Pasorlid, an intimate colleague of Farockaway, died. During a long collaboration Farockaway had always bounced ideas off of Pasorlid until the 'environmental sceptic', as he referred to himself, had nearly dragged Farockaway's career down with his own. Her father never fully recovered after that, unlike Farockaway who brushed his 'error' off as being an inevitable part of the field they worked in. As such, Idiacoz had learnt to keep her views quite on the subject.

Once Idiacoz began working near Farockaway, it was not so much that she became his surrogate daughter as that she became his surrogate best friend.

'Have you checked where he is?'

'He said not to mention this to him in any way: not to speak to him about it, not to reply or anything. He says that it's because most of our communications are monitored.'

'So what did you do?'

'I called him,' said Idiacoz. 'You know, just to see how he was, without mentioning the message.'

'That was probably not a good idea,' said Bersgaard. 'What did he say?'

'There was no answer; I couldn't get hold of him.'

'I have to say,' said Bersgaard, 'that it has been in The Owner's interests to poison the planet, so that more people move up here, to the moon. Perhaps Farockaway's just having you on. He's just teasing you. You know what you're like!'

Idiacoz didn't like this. 'No, what am I like?'

'Well, you don't agree with Planetary Warming at all, do you?'

'I've never said either way.'

'Yes, but, you know, your father and that.'

'The thing is… instead of working today, I did some searching.'

'For Farockaway?'

'Sort of.'

'What do you mean, 'sort of'? Wouldn't that be the obvious thing to do?'

'Yes,' said Idiacoz, 'but where do I start?'

Bersgaard needed to be patient. 'Did you try calling his colleagues?'

'Yes.'

'And?!'

'And no-one seems to know where Farockaway is. He's just disappeared.'

'What do you mean he's just disappeared' began Bersgaard, who then realised the absurdity of her question.

'He's not available.'

'You mean people say he's gone missing or people say he's just not around? You're not explaining yourself very well.'

'I mean that he isn't answering when I try to contact him and no-one knows where he is?'

'Well, he does work on secret projects, doesn't he? He does have a lot to do. It's just a coincidence. Look, I know you and Farockaway were close once – very close – but now he's closer to The Owner. That's only natural. Perhaps, you've been working too hard again.' Bersgaard stood up. 'Anyway, first things first, let me get you something…'

Once more, Idiacoz was affronted by what Bersgaard had said to her. Well, she hadn't said it so much as implied it - that she was having some sort of affair with Farockaway. Wasn't she?!

When Bersgaard was finally ready to listen, Idiacoz described putting on the Goggles and tapping the ear piece.

The device was similar to standard thick rimmed protective Goggles but contained a visual display in the glass, which functioned by scanning eye movement. It was just like a standard mouse for a computer. The user could move an arrow with the eyes: the left eye closed and the right one moved then blinked heavily to select. Sometimes two strong blinks were required. The so-called ear-pieces functioned by sending messages directly to the brain rather than via the ear. There were many other clever functions as well.

A written message had said simply, 'For Idiacoz'.

Farockaway's voice didn't have his normal, friendly, self-assured tone and the words flowed too quickly, hinting at a degree of urgency yet weariness. It became even more pessimistic as the speech wore on.

Despite their difference in age, Farockaway and Idiacoz had indeed been close. They'd met frequently when she was a child, Idiacoz being the daughter of the once renowned climatologist Pasorlid and Farockaway had later made her part of his Anti-Gravity Vehicle team down on planet Sirosan before taking her up to Sirosan-2 to work on the SkyLights project. Maybe people were jealous but Idiacoz didn't feel that she ever received any favouritism as such. And none of it was sexual. Not really.

One of the most influential physicists of his generation, Farockaway had developed the famous Deflected Fifth Premise of Quantum Electrodynamics, the Induced Sub-Micro-Quark Postulate, and a hypothesis commonly known as Anti-Gravity Gravity Theory. If there is matter and anti-matter, why not gravity and anti-gravity?

In his early years, there was still no scientist alive who was able, not only to understand but also to explain these ideas and their practical significance to the population at large. But for Farockaway it was easy.

An on-screen display in the Goggles now gave colourful illustrations, the first of which was a nebula of pale turquoise and dazzling white. There were some ugly buildings in the foreground of but these only served to emphasise the beauty that floated above them. The second image was of a black and hilly landscape, above which streaked long electric green pylons of light, below them an orange fire sunset. The final image was of a lake and two shores. In the distance, she saw a curtain of pale red vertical stripes, with green clouds below that melted into them.

Following his success in quantum electrodynamics, Farockaway had turned to quantum gravity. He turned the problem of anti-gravity around by ignoring the search for an anti-gravity force and sought instead to weaken the effects of gravity. This could only be done on a temporary basis and required a great source of energy. Its practical applications were limited.

Idiacoz continued to watch the screen. A long title appeared on a yellow background: Facts and Information about Auroras.

Farockaway's voice continued to explain:

'A basic definition of Aurora is luminous arches or streams of light that appear in the sky. Aurora Borealis means Northern Lights; Aurora Astralis means Southern Lights, and so on. Because our planet and its moons have two suns, Sirosan enjoys these phenomena elsewhere, - the weaker Eastern and Western Lights. However, I think we can best sum up all of these phenomena with our ancestors' term SkyLights.'

Idiacoz paused. She already knew what Farockaway was telling her. Perhaps he'd sent the wrong message by mistake. Actually, she much preferred the children's story about the twin suns being the mother and father of the auroras. SkyLights were explained by different stories, legends and myths. The Lights were Gods or Goddesses appearing to mortals. Or maybe they were spirits and souls dancing above them…

'The suns emit high-energy ion particles. A cloud consisting of ion particles is called plasma - also known as the solar wind. The ion plasma cloud, the solar wind, interacts with the edge of Sirosan's magnetic field and some of the particles are trapped by it. These particles are drawn magnetically down into the ionosphere, above Sirosan's surface. The particles collide with the gases in the ionosphere and produce the colours and the phenomenon called the Aurora.'

As Idiacoz listened, she briefly scanned a glossary displayed on the screen:

• Ionosphere - region of the planet's atmosphere where ionization affects radio wave transmission.

• Ionization - convert into ions

• Ion - atom that has acquired net electric charge

• Solar Wind - stream of high-speed, ionized particles ejected from sun's corona

• Plasma - electrically neutral, ionized gas of ions, electrons and neutral particles

• Radiation - energy par…

Idiacoz wound the recording on. She huffed, then sighed, then yawned, but just as she was about to take off the Goggles, a new title came up: Idiacoz.

She blinked hard twice to play the file. There was a pause before a Password request was made - something the Goggles always did when a retina scan failed.

It wasn't normal but the good old password was a helpful back-up for defects in the scan or even something unthinkable happing to an eye. She squirmed at the thought and returned to the task at hand.

As a younger man, Farockaway would play practical jokes on colleagues. There was a legend that whilst working on a military research project, Farockaway had decoded the combinations to individual cabinets containing classified material, and inserted notes from someone pretending to be a spy. He'd correctly guessed that his fellow scientists would use Fibonacci numbers as a code or other well known mathematical staples.

She thought to herself for a moment then gave up. It would be easier to ask for Bersgaard's help as her friend had always been better at dealing with codes and puzzles, yet when she called, Bersgaard didn't seem as disposed to help as she had hoped so she prepared herself for the evening ahead instead, determined not to bring the subject up again.

As Idiacoz dressed in an orange and green outfit, possible code combinations continued to run through her mind. She put the Goggles on again and closed her eyes to concentrate hard. Let's forget numbers, she thought. How about letters? Perhaps it's alphanumerical. What about names? This isn't classified information, after all, not yet at least…

Aurora was too obvious. It was bound to be something personal. The name of a loved one? Too simple. Of course, it would have to be mathematical. The hardest sort. Unless you were Farockaway of course…

Idiacoz opened her eyes again and to her astonishment found that the file was actually open. How did that happen?

Farockaway's voice returned. 'If you are listening to this, please listen to everything I say. This is not a joke or an illusion. This file contains important information. If you don't want to listen, please pass it on to someone who does. Please tell someone of the existence of this information but not the details. That way, if one or either of us is disappeared, someone else will have at least a few clues to deal with rather than absolutely nothing.'

Idiacoz shivered. The word, disappeared, belonged to the past of Sirosan-2 – but not as distant a past as many liked to think.

'There is no easy place to start so I'll just come straight to the point: for some time now, we've been involved in the SkyLights project together. You also know that this project is running parallel – it's almost a cover – for another project, which I won't go into at the moment, suffice to say that it's a very important project the results of which I fear – we both might fear – could fall into the wrong hands. For example, if the wrong people were to get hold of the technology, we would all be in very grave danger. To be perfectly honest, I don't think The Owner would make the best use of whatever we produce either. I really do not know what to do and I need to be able to trust someone and so, I'm afraid, I've placed that burden on you.'

Idiacoz just smiled at the thought, and then despite herself, she laughed. Why couldn't Farockaway have just come to her for a chat about it?

'I know this will be hard to accept but let me explain. Many of you will have wondered why this SkyLights project has taken so long. In reality, much of my own efforts have continued to be dedicated to something that emerged whilst we were engaged on the SkyLights project. I mean that we discovered the basic mechanics by chance when studying the SkyLights – again I haven't got time for details and besides, I'm not a hundred percent sure which way round it works… But back to the point. I have to say that despite all of the gains in knowledge that we have achieved since The Owner sponsored my work… Well - I don't know if it's a good thing or not.'

Please, thought Idiacoz, you said you would get to the point!

Before SkyLights and indeed even when she first began working on the project, Idiacoz had not been one of The Owner's biggest fans – indeed, she didn't like him at all, but whatever one thought of The Owner, his project took millions of people out of environmental chaos and the burning embers of a repressive regime. Some called him a fascist, but they wouldn't have done so if they'd lived through their not so distant history – there was a key difference between then and now. What's more, Farockaway's project was well funded and, no, The Owner didn't interfere too much.

'Why do I say this?' Farockaway asked.

Idiacoz she still wasn't sure this wasn't an elaborate hoax. She even began to smile – so comical was the idea. Perhaps Bersgaard was in on it as well.

'The Owner handpicked me to run the SkyLights project and the other projects that have emerged from it,' said Farockaway. 'I now find myself in a difficult position. About what I'm saying, I mean. The project is a secret one but I now find myself having to reveal it to you – to betray The Owner's trust and his investment in me. But what can I do?'

At the end of the recording, she sat for some time, perplexed, shocked and frozen.

Then she laughed to herself.

Why indeed, did Bersgaard get all of the interesting work?

Location: Psychiatric Unit

Therapist: Good, please sit down… or if you prefer to remain standing… Though it would be easier if you sat… Now, we haven't been able to find anything to identify who you are… Normally speaking, you would be regarded as an illegal alien. However, given that no-one wants to come to this planet and everyone wants to leave…

Patient: Man… Leave, leave… I want to leave…

Therapist: Where would you like to go?

Patient: I want to leave.

Therapist: Yes, you can leave but where will you go?

Patient: I wanted to leave…

Therapist: You wanted to leave? Where were you? Where are you from?

Patient: I wanted to leave, leave, leave…

Therapist: Please. We are trying to help you. You are safe with us…

Patient: NO! I must leave… leave… leave…

Therapist: Please, try not to upset yourself. You can leave… But first… we need to find out…

Patient: FIND OUT. They've found out… YOU! What?!

Chapter 12

Ace was half-minded to accept the Doctor's advice to stay put. She'd seen on so many occasions that there was a wafer-thin line between bravery and stupidity.

There was no point taking needless risks. In fact, it was all very well for Ace to tell the Doctor that she was going to find The Owner before the Doctor arrived but what was she actually going to do in practice? It's not as if she knew anything about the planet, the moon, its people and their history. I know, she thought, I'll go to the library.

Ace was staying in cramped accommodation, which had a musty, almost damp smell despite a type of air conditioning system that pumped clean oxygen into the building and extracted pollution with some sort of crystal affair. She'd spent a long time trying to understand how it worked but with no luck as not even her 'guide', Markare, had a clue.

Ace wasn't under guard as such but she did have a person with her who was meant to show her around and answer questions. She presumed that standing outside her quarters was about making sure she didn't escape. Although she felt pleased that there was someone to watch her – it was like having her own bodyguard – the time she'd spent with the Doctor, told her she ought to get out and away. She certainly hadn't wanted to swap one cage for another. Ace knew that she was unlikely to escape if she just stayed in her quarters – it had to be done from somewhere else.

'Do I have to stay here all the time or can I go out?' she asked.

Markare looked at Ace from head to toe and back again. She was wearing a limb-suit.

'I can take you wherever you ask – within reason.'

'I'd like to go out on my own, please.'

'You can - but I will follow you,' Markare told her.

'So, I'm a prisoner?'

'No, you're a guest, and no harm must come to you.'

'I see!' said Ace. 'Look, I'll tell you what. Why don't you show me around so that I can get to know the history of this place? How about… Have you got any museums?'

'We have, yes.'

'Can you recommend one?'

'There IS only one. One now, I mean.'

'Is it open?'

'I'm sure it will be.'

'Can we go there?' she asked.

'Of course,' he said.

Markare didn't seem such a difficult adversary and she had a baseball bat sticking out of her rucksack. There was always the chance he could be distracted for a second. He's not exactly the sharpest knife in the box, is he?

'Follow me,' he said, with far too much formality for Ace's liking.

'Are we walking?' she asked.

'We are,' he replied.

Ace didn't really want to use a baseball bat on Markare. He hadn't threatened her – quite the opposite – and was more like a servant than a prison officer. He seemed to be good natured – just a little dim and witless.

'Markare', she began.

'How can I help?'

'Why are you called, Markare?'

'Because…' There was another unnatural pause… 'That's my name.'

Ace laughed hoping for Markare to laugh along as well but he just looked at her. This was, no doubt, due to cultural differences. It was to be expected, so far from earth. There was no reason for her to have been surprised; neither was there much reason to attempt to hold a 'normal' conversation. Instead, Ace turned her mind to escape.

Markare was holding a respiration device. 'Put this over your mouth,' he said, handing her a face mask, which she put on nervously. 'Come this way.'

A large metal door opened slowly and the two of them stood in an ante-chamber. The sound of decompression could be heard and then another, identical door heaved itself open. 'Come,' said Markare.

The first thing that Ace noticed outside was the smell. There was a bittersweet taste in the air, which was heavy and her eyes began to sting. 'It's cold, she said,' surprised. 'I thought it was meant to be too hot here.'

Markare handed her a pair of Goggles. 'These won't keep me warm,' she nearly said but didn't.

'They are to protect your eyes,' Markare told her.

Ace put them on and shivered.

'Allow me, please,' said Markare and he touched Ace on the arm. He did it so quickly, yet so gently, that she didn't have time to be alarmed.

Ace's body felt warmer and she lost any instinct to shiver. 'How do you do that?' she asked.

Markare stared at Ace as if she'd asked the most ridiculous question in the universe. It was a sensation she was familiar with. 'I've warmed your limb-suit,' he said, somewhat pointlessly.

'Yes, but…' Ace's attention was taken by the sight of a cloud in the distance. The day was overcast with low cover but a single purple shaded cloud had released a fork of lightening. The sound of thunder followed some seconds later.

'What's that?'

'It's a cloud releasing an electric charge into the ground,' replied Markare.

Ace began to say, 'No, I meant…' but she gave in. Markare gave the distinct impression of being bored, like he didn't want to answer her questions and was just giving out the bare minimum of information.

Markare was slightly taller than Ace, stockier and had short hair. His skin was pasty but clear and his eyes were light blue. He was pretty and awkward at the same time; charming but slightly odd. Still, he wasn't the most unusual being she'd set eyes on in the last few years.

'Where now?' she asked.

'Do you still want to go to the museum?'

Ace and Markare came into a street, the buildings of which were very low, all single floored, not a sky-scraper in sight.

Through the Goggles everything appeared yellow and Ace could hear and feel a strong wind.

There appeared to be no-one in sight and no traffic. 'Where is everybody?' she asked.

'Everybody?' replied Markare.

'Yes, everybody – I don't see any people.'

Again Markare seemed to take a moment too long to reply to her question. It must be the language barrier, Ace reasoned.

'They are at home or at work,' replied Markare.

Ace couldn't be bothered to ask for more clarity so she said, 'There's no traffic.'

Markare pointed to the sky above them. 'It's up there,' he said.

'What? In the clouds, you mean?'

'Above the clouds,' replied the guide.

'What? They're flying?'

'Yes, there is transportation in the air.'

'Transportation in the air,' she repeated, trying to find any hidden meaning in such a strange way of expressing it.

Right on cue, a large ball fell to the ground, bounced a couple of times and stopped. A few seconds later, a door opened and a figure not unlike Markare stepped out. He seemed to be unaware of, or not to care about, the couple watching him, and entered a building on the left, leaving the door of his Pod, open.

'This way,' said Markare heading towards it.

'What? What are we doing?' Ace sounded alarmed.

Markare continued to walk forwards before stopping abruptly next to the Pod.

'This way,' he said.

'In here?' replied Ace.

'Yes.'

'But this isn't ours, I mean… Won't he be angry? The man, I mean.'

'I don't understand.'

'It's someone else's vehicle. We can't just take it.'

Again there was an extended pause, which took away from the drama of the moment. Come on speak, thought Ace.

'The vehicle belongs to no-one. We can take it. It is unoccupied.'

'I'm not sure,' said Ace.

'Would you prefer another system?'

'I don't know. Is it all right?'

'It's fine,' said Markare reassuringly.

Ace stepped into the Pod. 'I'm going to regret this,' she whispered.

She smiled at Markare but although he returned the smile, it was delayed and thus rendered inappropriate. Instead of comforting Ace, it made her nervous.

'Are you going to fly, this thing?' she asked.

'No, it will not be necessary.'

'Where are the controls? There's no steering wheel.'

'It's an automatic,' replied Markare.

Ace held onto the sides of her seat. 'There's no seat-belt?' she asked.

'What's a seat belt,' Markare replied.

Without warning, there was a vibration then a lull, a subsequent vibration again and the doors opened.

'Is that it?'

'Is that what?'

'We don't seem to have moved,' said Ace.

Markare did not reply, even after his customary awkward pause.

Ace looked at him. 'Are we going to get out?'

'We are.'

Markare stood and left the vehicle. 'A Pod Park' he said.

'Wow! I'm impressed,' said Ace realising she was in the equivalent of an earth car park, from the days when people had individual automobiles to take them around their world.

Ace had expected the library to be something grand, made of stone with a long drive leading up to it – an imposing construction – but she found herself standing in front of a building just like any other. The wind made her shiver again. Markare reached to her and she instantly felt warm. 'Thank you,' she said.

Even these words seemed to put Markare on the edge of a crisis. What's wrong with him for Heaven's sake?

For some reason, Ace had expected a wooden swing door with panes of glass and brass handles. She also expected the place to at least be open. Instead, the door was identical to the one she had not so long ago walked out of, complete with matching pressure chamber to boot. Apart from anything else, it hardly lent itself to a quick and easy escape.

The internal door opened and Markare and Ace stood in a very large hallway. 'That's funny,' she remarked, looking up.

'Funny?' asked Markare. 'I don't understand.'

'Yeah, right… It's just that…'

'I'm afraid I…'

Ace ignored his interruption. 'I mean, why is it that…' She looked around to her left and right. 'How come this place is bigger on the inside than the outside?'

The interminable pause again. He's like a robot. You can almost hear the sound of thoughts going round his head!

'That isn't correct,' said Markare,

'What?!' said Ace, unhappy with the answer.

'I said that your observation was incorrect.'

'But, look at it… This roof is about four to five stories high but there was only one floor on the outside.'

'One roof?'

'No, Robocop! One story!'

Markare looked up. 'I believe,' he began, rather too boringly for Ace's liking, 'that you should remove the Goggles. They are causing you to see things distortedly.'

Ace stood as still as a statue then sharply pulled the Goggles off. When she opened her eyes, the ceiling was indeed much lower than she'd seen it. 'What the…'

She held the Goggles up again and looked through them. 'Wow!' she said, continuing to look alternately through them and then without them. 'Wicked!'

'Where would you like to start?' asked Markare.

'You're the guide… At the beginning?'

'Certainly. We must turn left for The Origins the Universe.'

Most civilisations, who even knew there was a Universe had toyed with various religious and scientific ideas about its origins and most, like those on earth, had subsequently arrived at a basic 'birth' theory based on observations that the universe was seen to be expanding – that galaxies are moving away from one another at a constant speed – as well as through examining star formation elsewhere.'

Ace had asked the Doctor about this in an idle moment in the TARDIS not long after they first met.

'I don't know where to begin,' he mused.

'What do you mean?'

'Well, we have theories and they're pretty much conclusive – until someone comes along and disproves them - although we have also had practical experience which confirm some of these theories…'

'Go on…'

'Well, partly it's difficult to get your head around.'

'Try me,' Ace urged.

'Okay… there was a Big Bang.'

'I know this.'

'But you also know that scientists on earth – from your time – are only guessing.'

'No, I think they're pretty certain,' she informed him.

'Yes, they have made all of the calculations and observations that can take them back to nanoseconds after the Big Bang but what they can't work out is the bit from the Singularity to the first few instants. All of the laws of physics, as they understand them, don't add up. Are you following me?'

'Yes,' said Ace, 'I know that there was some sort of explosion that started the universe, that threw out all of the material to make the stars and planets and stuff and that the universe is getting bigger as you say. What I want to know is what happened before.'

'Well,' the Doctor smiled. 'There was no before.'

'There had to be,' Ace insisted.

'But there wasn't.'

'Look Professor, imagine we go back in time to an hour after the universe was formed.'

'Right.'

'What would we see?'

'We might observe a big explosion still exploding - very hot, lots of light all the things you can imagine.'

'Right, so we go back to a second after the Big Bang and we see pretty much the same thing – if it were possible.'

'I get your point, yes.'

'Now we go back to half a second, then a tenth of a second and then we go back to the moment of the Big Bang itself.'

'Yes, you would see…'

Ace held up her hand to stop him. 'It would be the same - sort of. But what I want to know is what we see if we go back to half a second or half a minute or half an hour, etc, before the Big Bang. What would we see?'

'Nothing.'

'There was nothing?'

'There was nothing but also it is not possible to go back to a minute or to a second before the Big Bang.'

'Okay, but what if it was possible.'

'No, you can't because that is when time began.'

'Okay, but say, five minutes before time began.'

'It doesn't exist. Time is bound within parameters. It is self-contained. There was no time before time began.'

'But how is that possible,' she frowned. 'Do you see what I'm getting at?'

'Yes, but the problem is with the question: time is just a dimension and we happen to live, exist and therefore react in time but there are many dimensions and time is just one of them.'

She scratched her head. 'That doesn't make any sense, Professor.'

'It doesn't make any sense because the question is wrong.'

'It's a legitimate question,' she affirmed.

'Yes, it is because you experience time and that's how you pitch the question. But that question is like asking what flying tastes like or what shoes fish wear.'

'Eh?'

'Flight has no taste – if you lick flight it has no taste – in fact, you can't lick flight like you can lick ice-cream and tomatoes and black pudding, which have tastes and can be licked. Fish have no feet so the question about shoes is the wrong question. Your question doesn't fit either.'

'So, what is the right question?'

The Doctor took a deep breath, uncomfortably. 'It's like this. There are many dimensions apart from time. We perceive time as going in a certain direction – there is cause and effect. I kick a football and it goes into the net – well not always but you know what I mean. It's not that the ball moves and then I kick it. We measure time because one thing happens after another and there is a sequence. We perceive things this way – in the dimension of time – we are bound by that. The dimensions we live in are based on time and sequences. It means that we cannot comprehend a universe without time.'

Ace tried to follow but it sounded like a lot of gobbledygook and didn't answer her question. As if sensing her confusion, the Doctor said, 'Imagine a fish – how does it swim in air above the ground?'

Ace shook her head.

'It doesn't – it can only fly or fall but it cannot swim because there is no water to swim in. It's the same with us. We can only exist in time not out of time. But there are other dimensions and other universes that are totally different – we just can't get to grips with some of them. We perceive things happening and in sequence, which we call time. But in some other universes there isn't time or even matter or any of the things we take for granted here. We cannot begin to understand them because we live in these dimensions. What's more, other beings wouldn't be able to understand us and our dimensions or the concept of time.'

Ace rubbed her head and held her chin.

'Do you understand?' he said.

'I think so. Time exists in this dimension in our universe but for other beings elsewhere, there is no sense of time therefore no direction of time?'

'Exactly, it's just different. Like a fish in mid-air or in deep space, there's just no conception, nothing. But for a bird, well I'm not sure about space, but a bird flies through the air. Birds live in a different environment that they can deal with because they have wings, breathe air and so forth.'

'Okay, so time began with this Big Bang and the idea of time doesn't apply before that. The problem with understanding what you are saying is if I try to apply a concept of time to something that existed before time began.'

'Exactly. So what we do have at the Big Bang is what is called a singularity. Nothing existed, nothing moved, there were no sequences of before and after. There was nothing.'

'Right.'

'Then there was an explosion and this singularity had time and motion and matter and energy and so on.'

'When did this happen?'

'At the beginning of time. There was nothing before.'

'Okay, I get it. But what caused the Big Bang? Something must have happened before time to cause the explosion.'

The Doctor laughed but in a friendly fashion. He wasn't mocking Ace. 'That's the problem. Well, firstly, the Big Bang was the beginning of time. Whatever happened, happened as time began: it both started time and was the beginning of time itself. There was no cause but only effect.'

'You say that there was no energy and no matter before the universe came into being so there was, literally, nothing?'

'That's right – zero.'

'And all this mass and energy came from where?'

'From no-where.'

'That's what I don't get. It must have come from somewhere.'

'Only in our, time-bound, universe must something necessarily come from something else? The rules are different elsewhere.'

'So what about these other universes? What are they like?'

'There are many that are like our own.'

'You said once that there are an infinity of universes and that there could, in theory, be a Doctor and an Ace in a parallel universe and that there are versions of every possible scenario.'

The Doctor was nodding enthusiastically. He said, 'I think that just because there is an infinity of possibilities, doesn't mean there actually is.'

Ace looked perplexed. 'I'm sorry but I didn't get that.'

'I mean that there can be as many universes that have as many scenarios as possible – there can be but why should there be? Just because it is possible that there is another universe exactly the same as this one and there is an Ace and there is a Doctor having the same conversation but the only difference is that my hat is red – or even just another shade of this colour, or contains a single atom less but everything else is the same – it doesn't mean it actually exists. Why should all possibilities exist? Why not just many?'

'I get you…'

'Yes, I think there can be an infinity of universes but that there isn't. It's possible but why would there be so many with every single variable and all sorts of mad scenarios. Just because something is possible doesn't mean it actually happens.'

'So tell me about a universe with no time.'

'I can't.'

'What do you mean, you can't?'

'I exist in time – I'm a Time Lord and this means we can break the laws of time – or bend them or whatever it is we do, but we can't exist out of time or even know what it is like out of time.'

'So you can't travel to other universes?'

'Well, we can under certain conditions but not to ones where there is no time.'

'But haven't some people been exiled out of time?'

'That's a slightly different matter. They go out of time but they are no longer in existence – or non-existence.'

'It's hard to get round the idea of there not being time.'

'Think of it like this.' The Doctor spoke slowly. 'It's pretty crude really, that things have to have a sequence, one after the other. That's what we're doing now. It's cause and effect. With time travel, I can go to different points in time but it's always along a straight arrow. I can arrive on the earth when it is still forming – when the surface is liquid – we know that all of this was in the past. Later the liquid cooled and hardened – so all I do is go up and down a scale from past to future and so on. You had video recorders in the eighties didn't you?'

'Me? Sort of.'

'Well, you record the programme and then watch the beginning or fast forward to near the end, then you return to near the beginning. You go backwards and forwards but there is always a sequence to obey.'

'Yes.'

'Well, think of this. In some universes this concept doesn't exist. The beginning and end are together with the middle. A being in this sort of universe and dimension experiences a totality of something and not a sequence.'

'So how do you watch a video in that universe?'

'You put the video into the machine and in doing so you've seen the beginning, middle and end already.'

'Sounds boring.'

'Well, that's an example. There's no video, no TV, no film, no armchair or remote control and no being in the sense that we understand it. You can't think in terms of time to understand time and unfortunately, because we live in this universe and in this dimension we can't experience it.'

'So how do these creatures live?'

'There are no creatures and there is no living.'

'So if we arrived?'

'We wouldn't – we couldn't.'

'What if we could?'

'We'd see nothing, feel nothing, do nothing, be nothing.'

'That's doesn't sound right, though.'

The Doctor laughed again. 'It's not my choosing; that's how it is. According to the science that is.'

'The theories?'

'Yes, theories. But they are reasonably well grounded.'

'I don't like it,' she said.

'Look, imagine what it was like for people a thousand years before you were born on earth. The earth was flat. Even later on, people sailed all over the planet and it was still flat – how could it be anything else? But now we laugh because we know the earth is a globe and there's gravity and so on. If you live on the surface and just poodle around, you can't work it out until someone suggests that the planet is actually a sphere and you can go all the way round.'

'Yes, I see, but later humans did work it out – by themselves – and did go into space. So why can't I go into a dimension where there is no time?'

'It's not just that there's no time; it's that there is no matter either. It's as if you are a solid person – mostly water of course – and you can only go to a place as a gas. You're not a gas – you can't go.'

'But I could become a gas, Ace protested. 'Set me on fire and bits of me would become gas.'

'Yes, but which bit of the gas would you use for seeing and hearing and feeling?'

'But what if I could do those things?'

'But you can't.'

'But if I could?'

'I think you just need to use a bit more imagination, Ace.'

'You can't get much more imaginative than that,' she said.

'Okay, you become a gas and mingle about with other gases, dissipated and so on. You would cease to be you, cease to be able to see or hear or anything like that. You wouldn't be Ace, you wouldn't even be a thing – a gas would exist which was once you but only you would know that – but you wouldn't even know because, you, would be, a gas.'

'Complicated, isn't it?' It was Ace's turn to laugh.

'A little yes. So you see that if you see things in terms of time and sequences, which is what we naturally do in this universe, you can only understand this sort of universe and this sort of dimension. You can't conceive of living without time, much less without matter and energy and temperature and so on – you can't answer the question – it's a question that is pitched to have an answer that talks about time and energy and matter but there is no answer that doesn't in some small way relate to time and energy and matter.'

'What does the answer relate to?'

The Doctor shrugged. 'Other dimensions, other… realities… Whatever reality means.'

Back at the museum, Ace decided that she'd skip the Origins section – too easy - or too complicated – depending on what it had to say. Either way, she knew that she'd be left frustrated by the experience and she had enough on her plate already.

'We would have to know what it would be like to live without time,' the Doctor had said. 'And we don't know that. We would have to know what it would be like to live without living or even to be without being and we don't know that. We would have to know how to see without seeing, because there would be nothing to see or hear or feel or smell and we don't know that.'

'But we could find out,' Ace had insisted.

'Let me put things another way: what is the temperature of red?'

'Red?'

'Yes, the colour red.'

'Well, it depends,' she reasoned.

'On what?'

'What it is that is red.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes. But you need to be more precise, Professor.'

'I agree. But if I am more precise – if I am very precise – can you still answer the question?'

Ace opened her palms. 'Go ahead, punk.'

She'd caught the Doctor off guard and he laughed.

'You can't say, "Make my day" because we don't have days and nights in the TARDIS.'

'Yes, well. Okay, then,' said the Doctor trying to get back on track. 'What is the temperature of a red cat?'

Ace opened her mouth and squinted. She looked around the TARDIS then back to the Doctor. 'It depends.'

'On what?'

'Whether the cat is hot or cold?'

'Yes, but you see, my question was about the temperature of red or a red cat but you continue to throw up other queries, so much so that I have to change the question and pretty soon, you'll tell me about a specific red cat whose temperature has been measured. But you won't have satisfactorily answered my question because the original question is unanswerable in the terms I've put it. That's how it is with your question about before time.'

'Okay, I think I understand now.'

'But we're sort of moving off the subject because I think that what the real question is, is what caused the universe to exist from nothing rather than what in generalhappened or didn't happen before the Big Bang. What you are looking for is the trigger. What if we suspend our disbelief and disagreements about there being nothing before time – not even time itself and for a moment accept that there was nothing and then there was something?'

'That's right,' she agreed, wishing that the Doctor had put the subject in those terms to begin with.

The Doctor was gesticulating. 'You think that it's impossible that something – all this whole universe of matter and energy – came from nothing?'

'I don't know if it's impossible but did it really all just come from nothing.'

'In this universe something always comes from something else so the question is where did the original something come from. It must have come from somewhere, right?'

'I guess so.'

'You guess so?'

'Well, I agree, yes.' Ace nodded. She was keen for more.

'You agree because you know it. In this universe there's a rule that we observe – it's always like this – that something comes from something else and that things happen, one after the other in sequence, which is the way we perceive time.'

'Yes.'

'But in a Singularity something doesn't necessarily have to come from something else – there's no law of cause and effect. It could, for all we know - and we don't know - emerge from nothing. It's just that we're used to this sequential idea of things coming from other things and things happening one after the other. Perhaps, in other universes, and I emphasise the word perhaps, things come from nothing and nowhere and there is no concept of time and so on. This universe is like this but other universes might not be.'

'Things just appear? From nowhere?'

'Could be.'

'Okay. But this universe with things that come from other things and with time moving in a certain direction: what set that off? Something from outside the universe with different laws?'

'Possibly.'

'So what about that then? Where did that come from?'

'Well, I'm tempted by the theory – and it is only a theory – that something came from nothing and that, in other universes it would be equally possible that matter can disappear into nothing. It would be interesting to study the mechanics of it but I think there would be no mechanics – there would be something else. The thing is we can't know because the big problem we have is that we exist in time and space with matter and energy and so on. We are part of what we see around us, made up of the same stardust. We are limited because we are us – because we exist. To know about what happened before time, we couldn't actually be us, we couldn't exist and therefore we couldn't know.'

As had waited and listen patiently. She raised a hand. 'Some people say that God triggered the Big Bang.'

'But what do they mean by God?'

'You know, a superior being.'

'Yes, it's conceivable that a superior being, who lived outside time and matter and energy perhaps, set up the universe. So that leads precisely to the next question.'

Ace had though they were coming to the end of this discussion now but all that was happening was that each question seemed to throw up ever more questions. 'Which is?'

'That if you believe in Divine Intervention, who invented the God that started it all? And from here you are back to square one.'

'I don't get it.'

'I mean that if you apply the logic that something came from nothing then God also came from nothing.'

'Maybe God was always there?'

'Maybe the Singularity was always there?'

'So the Singularity was God?'

'Ah, but that theory would reduce God to nothing, void, zero, zilch, no energy, no matter, nothing. And if you believe in God, surely He has to be more than nothing, zilch and zero in order to qualify as a Supreme Being.'

'So you are saying there is no God that started it all? Because a lot of people I know believe…'

'I'm saying that I don't know. But I'm also saying: define God for me, please. Because also, if God equals the singularity, it doesn't make sense,'

'Why not?'

'Because the singularity also became the Universe. People making a case for God say that He was there before the Universe and therefore outside the Universe, therefore He was not part of the singularity.'

Ace pursed her lips then said. 'Surely, God creating the universe is as plausible as any other explanation.'

'Yes, I suppose that it's much easier to understand, which just happens to make it that much more attractive to people and it saves on having to think too much like we're doing now.'

Ace sighed and stretched. She'd reached a dead-end. The Doctor spoke again. 'The only thing I would say against that idea on your earth is that it's said in retreat.'

'What do you mean?'

'Well once upon a time, it was believed that there were either many Gods or there was just a single one. The many Gods argument is okay as there was nevertheless a chief God among the Gods. And what they mean by God is important here.'

'You mean like Greek Gods and Roman Gods?'

'Yes, there are different religions and rules but they do all tend to have a special God at the centre of things. Now, this God used to be all seeing, all knowing, everywhere. He'd be in our thoughts, He'd be watching our every move, and He would know everything about everything and about everyone. Steadily, the religious people – not all of them but most – moved away from that. So now, for most advocates, God isn't necessarily walking among us but is reduced – because that's what people have done to God – they have reduced God to being some sort of invisible creature that flicked a switch and made the universe light up thirteen billion years ago!'

The Doctor clapped his hands. 'Is that a way to treat a God?'

Ace merely shook her head quickly left to right.

'I mean, one minute they say he walks among us, the next – when it suits them – they say he was around billions of years ago and doesn't really walk among us? I mean, once upon a time, His role was very hands-on; now He's reduced to background planning? Once upon a time, He was said to have made the world literally in six days and He rested on the seventh, had a nap. Now, in your time, they say that this story is just an allegory. People were forced upon pain of death to say things that weren't true about the Universe…'

'You mean Galileo?'

'Exactly. And then they turned round almost immediately and apologised. I mean, you can't claim to know how the universe is set up one minute with the earth at the centre and then just a few hundred years later, hold up your hands and accept that you were wrong. Because for me that is saying one of two things: we were wrong and we haven't a clue what God wants; or we were right and you should ignore this rubbish about the earth not being the centre of the universe. They can't have it both ways.'

'But not all religions are like this,' said Ace.

'That's true but it shows – and this has a similar pattern all over the universe – that a lot of people who claim to know of God's role in setting up the universe, are just guessing.'

The Doctor lowered his voice and Ace leaned in. 'God hasn't given them His word at all – because if He had done, someone who was listening and recording this got it wrong. Now if God is worth his salt, then He won't get it wrong, therefore the religions themselves and the proponents of religious ideas are not very good representatives of God. One might conclude that they've appointed themselves and made it all up by pretending to know God's will, when in reality they do not have the slightest clue.'

Ace laughed. 'But many people believe that God exists without the religions. You can believe God created the universe without believing in an official religion.'

'You can indeed. But then I ask: if these religions all have a fairly clear idea of what God is and what He wants, even though they may be making it up, what do you think? Who is this God, what did He do, what does He want us to do? How do you know He exists? Did you just decide it by yourself? Or does someone influence you? Maybe a church or a religion influences you? Did God speak to you - did He show you a sign?'

'We don't know though, do we?'

'No, that's correct, we don't know. So, equally, let them stop acting as if they know about things they could only know if God had told them. If someone gets first hand information from speaking to God, we have to listen to them perhaps. Where I draw the line is at second-hand information. Did God speak to you? No, so shut up. Did God speak to you? Yes. Good. Tell me more. And whilst you're doing it, I'll try to decide whether I believe you or not.'

'But going back to the Big Bang…'

'I don't know what started the Big Bang! Maybe God did start it but, I mean, was that it? Was that the only thing He did or does? Does He continue to play a role? Is He all powerful – in which case He is ignoring suffering – or is He all compassionate but powerless. It just seems to me that the God Explanation – I'm not saying that I can prove it not to be true and I know that science also takes massive leaps of faith – seems to be the laziest explanation that people come up with – the one that takes such little thought. It's the one that says, "I really can't be bothered to think too much about what God means to the world today so I'll sort of go along with the idea that He created the universe (billions of years ago) and we'll leave it at that." If God exists, He can't be very pleased about how people deny He has a hands-on role to play and are only prepared to accept that He pressed a button at the birth of the Universe.'

'So you don't think it was God then?'

The Doctor looked bewildered. 'Until they tell me who God is and what He does, it's hard to answer that. If they come up with something a little more concrete and explain how they know, I'll listen but you'd be surprised how many people fail to provide a rational explanation. As I said, a lot of science is a leap in the dark, a supposition, even a crude extrapolation – it may require a degree of blind faith – however, it is at least based on some sort of logic and intellect rather than laziness. I don't know, is the short answer.'

PATIENT: Sure I've taken some… substances… It was part of our course, designed to help us think differently, to explore our consciousness. But I had to stop; I decided not to do anything that might affect my brain.

QUESTION: Did it?

PATIENT: You tell me. You're the geek.

QUESTION: Why did you want to explore your consciousness?

PATIENT: Not my consciousness – everybody's!

QUESTION: Where were you when you took these… drugs…?

PATIENT: Why? Are you a copper?

QUESTION: No, I'm here to help.

PATIENT: What was the question?

QUESTION: I asked why you took…?

PATIENT: Yeah, yeah… I remember. I remember the question. I'm not insane officer… Were you listening? Were you even really listening? Are you more interested in my past than my present?

QUESTION: I'm here to help.

PATIENT: Then let me sleep!

Chapter 13

With typical enthusiasm, Farockaway had concentrated all of his time and energies into resolving the SkyLights question. He felt, that in this case, he wasn't just going to resolve a modern, technological, science-based problem but was endeavouring to settle an ancient mystery, as old as the planet or even its suns.

Progress had been made quickly and efficiently, yet always at the back of his mind was a fear that the plug might now be pulled on the project as had happened with his Anti-Gravity Vehicle. Worse still, was the worry that the project could easily be brought under military control.

Farockaway didn't want to work for the military again, although he understood that a question of planetary, or more accurately, solar system security as with the discovery of this new signal should take precedence. He too clearly didn't want the planet to be vaporised by aliens, and as Idiacoz had put it, his knowledge and experience might make all the difference.

Farockaway was now beginning to feel under another unspoken pressure to go public with conclusions from the SkyLights project that he didn't really share; namely that Planetary Warming on Sirosan had not been caused by big business pollution but was a natural, inevitable and cyclical event caused by Space Weather. Sure enough, Solar Flares were a major factor in determining the climate on Sirosan – there was no denying that – but The Owner had watched his presentation and jumped to his very own conclusions, which were not exactly Farockaway's. It was all starting to get a little too much out of his control.

'The fact that the signal repeats itself,' agued Professor Bockettis, 'would indicate that the data is self-contained. By that, I mean that we are not listening to a planet or a moon or even a spacecraft 'live' as it were, but to a recorded message. It's either a message from an intelligence trying to make contact with the wider universe or it's a vehicle of some kind sending out a distress call. I don't think it's the Maggzillzz anyway. Even if it is coming from their direction.'

'What about progress with actually deciphering the data?' asked Farockaway who was chairing the session and daydreaming his fears at the same time.

Professor Chiboospa replied. 'I think that once we've established what sort of message it is – once we're agreed – it will be easier to get to the details. My hunch – and I know this isn't very scientific…'

'It's always worked for me,' joked Farockaway.

'… is that Bockettis is correct and this is a message from a vehicle of some kind. But I couldn't tell you why I think that… If it was a missile… I mean, firstly readings show that it is not heading at us, just that it will pass through the solar system… And yes, I suppose the danger is that its trajectory could always change at the last moment. But would a missile really be sending out warnings beforehand?

'It could be a trick,' suggested The Scientist. 'What about you, Professor Spallspalls?'

'We also have to consider this: that it's not a distress call or a message of invitation but that it might be, for whatever reason, just out of control. Even if the vehicle is not hostile, it may be dangerous nevertheless and given the fact that it is moving extremely quickly... What if there's an onboard computer controlling the thing, however badly? If a ship is programmed to defend itself, it could take this to a logical conclusion… I would urge a quick attempt to contact it and, depending on the outcome, we move to blow it away before it gets too close. We can't take any risks.'

After further debate and discussion, the idea of sending a spacecraft to capture the alien object was agreed but was almost immediately modified in a subsequent meeting in favour of using both a laser and a traction beam in harness.

The laser was to be deployed in altering the trajectory of the vehicle. Plasma would be fired to tip the vessel into a path that would subsequently take it into the orbit of the penal moon that would then facilitate capture - all being well.

However, before the new plan could be put into operation, a new event was to take them all by surprise.

'There's another craft.' said Farockaway in a private brief to The Owner.

'Same place?'

'I can't tell. The trajectory is more or less the same, though it's moving more slowly than the first one. It is however increasing speed. It's trying to catch up.'

'The usual suspects?'

'Yes, it is certain that the Maggzillzz are on the chase.'

'So it hasn't destroyed them, then?' The Owner laughed.

'Well, it passed pretty close to them but it doesn't appear to have attacked. They'll be keen to find out what it is as well.'

'So what is to be done?' asked The Owner.

'I think, normally speaking, we have to pass this up the chain of command.'

'I am up the chain of command,' said The Owner.

Farockaway pursed his lips.

Although not visible from the planet the first craft could now just about been seen with the naked eye from the moon. Whilst experts were trying to work out the nature of the craft, a further two were detected to add to the one that was now confirmed as belonging to the Maggzillzz.

'That makes four. What shall we call them?' Farockaway was asked.

'Well, we can call the first the Alpha craft and the second the Maggzillzz craft; these two are coming from the Bigstan region so we'll call them Bigstan-1 and Bigstan-2. Clearly, they are all pursuing this Alpha craft but to do what? It doesn't bode well, either way so we need to send out a message to warn them all off, to do whatever it takes.'

The ongoing situation now became public but worse than this, for the authorities at least, was that with the exception of the Maggzillzz, the objects remained unidentified. Attempts to communicate came to nothing. It wasn't as if this solar system wasn't used to dealing with 'new species' but even a message to the Maggzillzz yielded no reply.

All spacecraft, even non military ones, were put on alert and missiles were readied for launch. Whilst the military were gearing up to fight, the politicians started looking for somewhere to hide once the shooting started. Most of those left on Sirosan resigned themselves to the fact that things could hardly get worse on the planet, whilst up on the moons, there was a fair degree of tension.

If one could imagine that the planet and its moon were at the centre of a very large clock and facing the number twelve, the Alpha craft was heading from two o'clock to nine o'clock, with the Maggzillzz in pursuit having started out from around the same area. The two Bigstan vessels were coming in behind from just past four o'clock, also heading towards the figure nine. Next, came three Higoonser craft coming in from nine o'clock and a solitary Flanrd vehicle (for now) at 7 o'clock.

'Could it be an invasion?' The Owner had asked Farockaway in private.

'Of the planet you mean?'

'Where else?'

'The moons?'

'You're right: who would want the planet? The moons are far more important. Who cares about the planet – they can have it.'

Farockaway laughed but The Owner was deadly serious. 'We have to cover all hypotheses,' he said.

'Of course, but I doubt it's an invasion.'

'Why's that?'

'Well, firstly, they are coming from different directions.'

'Could it be that the Maggzillzz have got allies? Strength in numbers?'

'It could be but… well yes, you could be right. It's just that five or six small craft is hardly an invasion force, is it? We get larger fleets of ships carrying illegal aliens.'

'They could be heavily armed or have something that sabotages us.' The Owner thought for a minute, his imagination running riot. 'Or it could be a scouting trip.'

'Yes, I suppose you are right and it's best not to be complacent but again, they're actually not converging on us – some of them will pass near the bi-solar system but I don't believe it's about us.'

'What is it about then?' asked The Owner.

'Well, if you put yourselves in their shoes and them in ours… We are going to a lot of trouble to capture the Alpha craft – why? Because apart from issues of security and making sure we are not attacked, we are curious. We want to know where it comes from and what benefits any new technology may give us. It's not like any of the superior civilisations ever give us a hand – all that rubbish about not interfering…'

'So you reckon that, like us, they are also chasing this probe in order to try and catch it.'

'That's right and of course we can't allow that to happen.'

'Clearly not,' agreed The Owner pensively.

The Maggzillzz made the early running and looked to be catching Alpha much sooner than their race rivals. Some people were even making bets on who would win. Others still were speculating on what would happen next - perhaps a showdown with the other craft that were closing the gap.

Opinions were split: would it be better for the Maggzillzz to arrive at the mystery vehicle first and before everything got too close to Sirosan or was a battle between unknown aliens going to arrive in their own backyard? And then what?

The Maggzillzz closed in and it seemed they were about to be the first to deal with this mystery craft and its signal but unexpectedly, 'ran out of puff' as The Owner put it and turned back. This meant that both Bigstan were set to take over the lead - and make a few punters rich - but just as the Bigstan were about to pass them, the Maggzillzz fired laser weapons at the oncoming Flanrd, Traffman and Bigstan craft. Whilst Flanrd and Traffman appeared undamaged, one of the Bigstan ships came to a halt and flames could be seen at the back of the vehicle. There was a standoff, whereby the Bigstan ship and the Maggzillzz faced one another, as if in a western shootout.

Whilst Bigstan-1 continued to chase Alpha, Bigstan-2 ship fired six shots at its Maggzillzz rival but all of them missed. Then, just as observers were expecting the Maggzillzz to either return fire or send a boarding party, instead they ran headlong into the stationary Bigstan ship causing the instant loss of both.

Without anyone having much time to take all this in, Bigstan-1 arrived first. What would happen now? Was this a revenge mission to destroy the Alpha craft or capture it? The Bigstan-1 vehicle opened at the front and swallowed-up Alpha with great jaw-like openings that devoured the craft whole.

The Sirosan military appeared on the scene quickly, later justifying aggression citing a law on illegal immigration that had, in their opinion become, de facto, ashoot-to-kill policy and they crippled the massive Bigstan-1 with lasers from different angles. Traffman and Flanrd were not intimidated by this in the slightest and simply stopped next to Higoonser.

The Sironsan military now prepared to board, having been reminded that the point of the chase had not been to destroy aliens but to capture Alpha intact but as they were making ready, the jaws of Bigstan-1 opened and the Alpha craft floated out.

Traffman now set a traction beam onto Alpha and began hauling the craft in, like a fish on a line. At this point, Flanrd simply began moving again and left the scene entirely heading for the other side of the system and out of range.

But it wasn't over yet; the Traffman craft still faced a fleet of Sirosan spaceships under orders not to let their quarry leave. A communications link was established and translation software locked in. The reply to surrender demands, repeated rapidly, was that the Traffman spaceship would drop a nuclear device on the planet if it were to be obstructed.

Lives stood still on the surface but before anyone had a chance to work out the best response, the Traffman craft began to move.

The orders from above – or in this case below them – were to announce to the Traffman that they would be escorted out of the solar system and allowed to keep Alpha. They had in effect won. The other orders were less defeatist: wait until the ship gets a safe distance away from the planet then open fire, whilst traction beaming Alpha.

The resulting battle wasn't quite so straight-forward. The Traffman, under heavy fire from all angles had turned and headed full speed for the planet's surface. The Sirosan military did their best to blow it up before it hit the surface but to no avail and a nuclear device – smaller than first feared – had detonated near the planet's equator where no-one lived anyway. Alpha in the meantime had been ripped away in a traction beam tug of war but couldn't be held stable and had crash landed onto the Red moon's surface.

Although the penal system on the Red moon might have been described as more progressive and civilised than those found on Earth – in that there was emphasis on reform and rehabilitation rather than punishment and revenge – the prison moon was nevertheless the worst of the bunch to live on or even just to visit. For a start, it was by far the coldest.

The subsequent problem with retrieval was that it would involve going to a site on a lunar surface that was not only potentially radioactive but prone to violent, volcanic activities. The recovery crew would have to proceed with caution.

Naturally enough, The Owner had obtained exclusive rights to broadcast recovery of the object, though rivals hoped he would have egg on his face if Alpha had been destroyed on impact.

Six crew – all volunteers from the prisons – were fitted with spacesuits and breathing supply and sent out through the airlocks of a shuttle, where they we lowered down to the surface. Escape from this prison had never been known but if there was a way out, it was going to be by stowing-away in a vehicle rather than a spacesuit with limited oxygen under the glare of the bi-solar system's mass media; nevertheless the group were tethered together and subject to armed – albeit robotic – guard.

'Can you just describe what we're seeing?' said a hidden voice, that of a well-know presenter.

'Yes,' replied Prejonarit, leader of this particular group. 'There's a large area of damage – the vessel has exploded violently on impact and debris are strewn everywhere.'

'Any sign of life?'

'None yet, none whatsoever.'

'Are there any traces of what has been sending out the signal?'

Prejonarit was irritated by the questions being put to him. Although he was pleased, indeed he felt privileged to have been chosen to lead this team he wasn't used to bounding around in a space suit and was finding it hard to concentrate, knowing that if the volcanic activity and surface radiation didn't kill him, perhaps what was in Alpha would. Random questions didn't help his nerves.

'No,' he replied curtly, hoping that his tone would be enough to stem the flow of words.

But the reporter had a job to do as well. 'How old does it look? Are there any clues as to its origins?'

Prejonarit sighed and didn't answer immediately.

Under the previous totalitarian regime, which had briefly but traumatically ruled Sirosan, Prejonarit had been detained for fraud. Having always claimed that the evidence presented at his 'trial', had been both circumstantial and unreliable he had initially hoped that successive governments to the dictatorship would released him. The problem he didn't fully appreciate however, was that when detained he was actually employed by the regime itself, and had effectively become a sacrificial lamb to save the freedom and well being of his superiors. Governments that made a big issue of fighting corruption did not want to be seen to condone its old perpetrators.

The authorities were always meant to be looking into Prejonarit's case and he'd been unofficially assured that his release was imminent and that it would be best to avoid anything that might complicate his bid for freedom until it became official.

'I have no idea,' he finally groaned.

'Well, perhaps we can go to the studio and ask Professor Farockaway…'

Farockaway looked awkward on a live feed and squinted. 'I don't believe that we can tell very much just by looking at something. I'm afraid to say that I don't think our eyes are going to be much use to us today.'

'What signals have been coming from it?' The presenter had no choice but to continue questioning.

'Ah, well, now this is it… We don't actually know what's happening at all, do we. We thought that the original signal was some sort of distress call - the way the sequence repeated itself - but it has been off for some time – since the crash.'

'So where do you think it has come from?'

'I think that's what we're here to find out,' said Farockaway, who like Prejonarit resented the way such a potentially significant event was being cheapened. Farockaway was used to serious scientific experimentation, debate and hypothesis, not idle, sensationalist speculation and sound bites. He was as enthusiastic as the next person but he knew that in so many similar cases, the greatest excitement would come much later when the finer details would slowly begin to emerge. Finding something was the easy bit, he felt; understanding the chemical composition and working out the propulsion system would be the real task.

The problem that live broadcasts of this nature suffered was that of nothing happening when it had to happen. Indeed Prejonarit's time on the surface yielded nothing except a close up of charred remains. Even on the cold surface, Alpha was too hot to touch never mind open and The Owner's rivals in media broadcasting had a field day, describing his transmission as, 'The biggest flop in the universe,' and 'As banal as watching moons orbit.'

Media attention soon wandered from the Alpha craft to other matters, which, fortunately for The Owner, had the bonus side that every piece could be packed away and transported down to Sirosan for further examination in Farockaway's labs without anyone noticing too much. What could be recovered was reassembled in the lab by Farockaway, Prejonarit and the other prisoners, who were informed that they would be pardoned in exchange for their cooperation – meaning their silence – on this project.

Prejonarit refused to be pardoned and insisted that he wanted a full enquiry to clear his name whilst the SkyLights team set to work under Farockaway's guidance. This time The Owner was taking no chances – the work might be filmed for posterity (and eventual broadcast and sales) but there was no way that it would be going out live.

'Using images of the vessel before the crash and running further analysis, we've been able to work out the dimensions, weight and propulsion system – there's nothing remarkable or new to us about this,' said Farockaway.

'So what's the big discovery?' asked The Owner.

'The big discovery?' Farockaway wasn't sure he understood.

'I've put a lot into this,' said The Owner. 'We have to have a discovery to announce to the world. We have to have something new to say.'

'The signal was just a standard device that lets one know something is moving. There was no specific message, nothing deep or meaningful; it was just like a siren to warn people not to crash into it.' Farockaway was aware the news would disappoint The Owner and, although somewhat fearful that The Owner might decide to sack him and his team there and then and 'give up on science', he actually took pleasure in the disappointment he'd given. 'That's what science is like,' he'd told Idiacoz, when she was much younger. 'It's a series of disappointments. You make a hypothesis and test it. The results nearly always fail to match what you'd predicted but every now and then you get a result and your guesswork starts to become material reality. Discovery is never predictable or guaranteed – failure is.'

'What I want to know is…' The Owner wasn't sure what he wanted to ask. 'What is it? What's it for? What does it do?'

'I think…'

'You mean, you don't know?'

'I mean that I think that,'

'Yes?'

'Well, look. I know it sounds preposterous but…'

The Owner's expression was hiding a wrath just below the surface. Farockaway felt a tantrum was coming on. 'But what?' said The Owner, 'Spit it out, will you?'

'Well, I don't think there's anything of any importance here.'

The Owner's reaction wasn't to explode at all. Now, he turned away, and then back, all the while stone faced but now less furious. For once, he didn't have a smart one-liner or some poor-quality irony to share. There was no outward rage, no bullying, no withering look and sarcasm. He eyes looked heavy. He pursed his lips and nodded. 'So what was it?' he finally asked.

'There's some sort ball inside,' Farockaway said, then raised a hand to anticipate The Owner's interruption. 'It wasn't the ball producing the signal, either. As I say, the signal is pointless as far I as can see.'

'So what it this ball thing for?'

'That's our next project.'

'I see,' said The Owner mournfully. He sighed and placed a hand over his mouth, then stroked his forehead. 'When will you know more?'

The scientist shrugged his shoulders.

'Of course,' said The Owner smiling in resignation.

There was a long period of awkward silence between the two.

The Owner opened his arms wide, as if about to embrace Farockaway, though he couldn't be sure.

'All of the time and resources I've spent! For what?! A ball!'

'Yes, but the ball…'

'I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE BALL!' he shouted. 'I DON'T CARE! I wanted something tangible, some weapons or a medicine to cure illness or something, ANYTHING, hi-tech, alien, special. And what? We've got a burnt out wreck and a ball the size of Montented's brain.'

Farockaway toyed with the idea of saying that something the size of a chicken's egg (for like on Earth, this solar system also had chickens just like those on hundreds of thousands of other planets in this universe) was actually larger than the size of Montented's brain but feared he would have been misunderstood.

'What am I going to tell the military?' he asked.

Farockaway inhaled deeply. What about the military?

'Don't answer that,' said The Owner.

He didn't.

There was another awkward long silence as each looked out of windows facing in different directions and overlooking different realities.

After their meeting, which had succeeded in making Farockaway feel guilty, The Scientist began working exclusively - and excessively - on the ball structure that had been found inside the Alpha craft. 'It's a perfect sphere, shiny and light, hollow inside,' he was later able to report.

'And it's made of an unknown substance, you say?'

'That's more or less it, yes.'

'What's inside?'

'Nothing as far as we can tell.'

'You've tried opening it, then?' The Owner was a weary as he sounded.

'We've tried and failed. We're going to scan it next.'

'Well don't take too long; I'm getting tired of the military asking questions. It's only me who's keeping them at a distance from you. Try not to forget.'

Finally, came a breakthrough. One of the team suggested that the signal was not a siren at all but was indeed a complicated formula. Computers were decoding it and a translated version would soon be available. Nevertheless, The Owner appeared indifferent. 'Perhaps, we can get back to the SkyLights now this is all over,' he remarked.

The next occasion on which the two spoke, it was by audio-link. Farockaway had left a message for The Owner to contact him but there had been no hurry on the part of the latter to learn why.

'So, tell me. What does it say?'

'It's a formula.'

'You told me that in the message, but what does it say?'

'We don't know.'

'What do you mean, you don't know? Has it been translated or not?'

'Yes, it has.'

'And it's a formula, you say?'

'It is.'

'Equations?'

'That's right.'

'And…'

'We don't know.'

'Oh, really! This is unbelievable. Read it to me!'

Farockaway cleared his throat.

'A TAACC increased bound protein that comes conducted by the DNA damaged and the growing arrested serves as an inhibiting negative domination of the other TAACC exaggerated binding prot…'

'Stop,' cried The Owner impatiently. 'This is a machine translation, isn't it? Can't it be refined?'

More silence. Farockaway wasn't enjoying this. There's no pleasing some people, is there?

'When will you know what this means?'

'There's a lot more.'

'When will you know what it all means?'

'I don't…'

'When you've got something to tell me, tell me. I haven't got time to waste.'

And with that, the communication link was abruptly cut.

Farockaway breathed a sigh of relief. 'Neither have the rest of us, actually,' he said to himself.

'And one more thing,' said The Owner.

Farockaway was startled to see the face of his boss back on the screen. 'Sir,' he said, even though he had never addressed The Owner so formally, not ever.

'What was the purpose of the ball?'

'Ballast, we think, sir.'

'Ballast, eh? Here's what we'll do. Send it to Montented's museum; I don't see why he should feel left out.' The communication was cut again.

Over time, the now icy relationship between The Owner and Farockaway thawed mainly because the latter finally had something that the former found useful.

'Good things come to those who wait,' said The Scientist.

The Owner had heard this cliché before, too many times, and cringed. 'He who waits, is a fucking idiot,' he retorted, threatening the recent detent. 'Look Farockaway,' he said. 'I want you to get on with it. I'll back you but you have to do something for me. Understand?'

'What is it?'

'Your research on this formula and these experiments you do for me, right - not the military but for me.'

Farockaway nodded in acknowledgement. He was happy with that. Anyone but the military – even you!

'I'll cover you. We're going to go back onto the SkyLights project up on the moon, so leave most of the donkey work here to other people – that girlfriend of yours can do most of your share – and you can pop down here from time to time and work without the military ever getting on your back – or mine. Your reports are to me - still classified, eh? Agreed?'

'Agreed.'

'Good. Do as much translating as you can yourself and if you do need a hand, get clearance from me first. Don't discuss what you do with anyone else, right?'

'Right.'

'Good man… Apart from the girl - I'm sure you tell her everything anyway - but don't let her distract you – and don't tell anyone else. And she ends up on a charge if she leaks anything, okay?'

'Okay…'

Translations of the formulas came directly from the machines to Farockaway. Normally, when a language was decoded, a translator had to analyse the source of the translation to iron out any difficulties. Wherever anyone went in the universe, even the best computers were still unable to translate as well as living creatures. It really was an art not a science after all.

But Farockaway made the fatal mistake of failing to understand the difference between quantity and quality. It didn't matter how much the computer translated; what was important was that it was translated well and in relying on machines with no input from translators, he was taking risks.

At the same time, Farockaway was starting to devise and then carry out, experiments on tissue based on the information he was receiving to see what would happen. He didn't actually know what he was supposed to see, simply that the formulas were complex and therefore must be about creating or modifying something living.

He was to undergo a long and lonely period of trial and error.

Chapter 14

The Doctor was keen to get a move on and go down to the planet's surface, find The Owner and bring him back, not to mention the small matter of Ace.

He wasn't too pleased at having to leave the TARDIS behind and even more aggravated because he didn't like 'conventional' space travel at the best of times. Asking the Doctor to take a space shuttle was like asking Queen Victoria to give up the Royal Stagecoach for a skateboard. She wouldn't be best pleased and he was far from amused.

As the Doctor mulled over these thoughts, Spessogack walked into his quarters.

'Don't you ever knock?'

'Knock, Doctor?'

'Yes, knock. You know, knock-knock.'

'Knock-knock?' repeated Spessogack.

The Doctor couldn't help but break out smiling. 'Unbelievable,' he whispered to himself. 'Who's there?' he asked with a glint in his eye.

'Doctor?' Spessogack repeated somewhat in difficulty.

'Doctor who?' said the Doctor and he laughed to himself. 'It still amuses me…'

'I'm sorry, Doctor but you've lost me.'

'It doesn't matter. Look, if you don't mind, I'd like to get straight to it. When can I leave?'

Spessogack looked at the floor and then at the Doctor. 'I'm sorry but there's been,' he paused and then spoke more slowly, 'a bit of bad news.'

'Bad news?' The Doctor's thoughts turned to Ace.

'I'm afraid there's been a problem with a shuttle.'

'Go on,' said the Doctor, a hint of uneasiness in his voice.

'I am afraid so. And so all non-essential shuttle flights have been suspended.'

'What? Why? Ace?'

'No, Ace is safe. There's been a problem with another shuttle, it's just something that happens from time-to-time, you know.'

The Doctor looked intently at Spessogack. 'No, I don't know. What's happened?'

The Doctor could sense that Spessogack would rather not have had to explain. 'Just that an overloaded ship has tried to slip through and there's been an accident – only we can't have too many other shuttles flying about at the moment – for obvious reasons. I'm sure you understand.'

'I thought you said that this mission you've fobbed onto me was important. That's why you're keeping me here, isn't it? Isn't that why you kidnapped Ace?'

'We haven't kidnapped her. I said to you that there are a few problems and we've had to ground all non-military flights. I'm sure it will be sorted out in half an orbit or so.'

'I don't suppose I could use my TARDIS instead; it would save rather a lot of time.' The Doctor almost spat the words out.

'I'm afraid that it is out of the question Doctor.'

'Just as I thought. Listen, whilst we're here, perhaps you could fill me in on a bit of detail, history, that kind of thing…'

'Perhaps you'd like to take a walk with me Doctor, whilst I try to explain.'

Everyone on the Sirosan-2 Moon was lighter than on the planet Sirosan itself due to the weaker gravitational pull. The other characteristic was that instead of streets, there were water canals, much like, thought the Doctor, the ancient city of Venice on Earth - amongst others he'd been to.

'I must say, Doctor,' that you seem to have got the hang of walking in low gravity, very quickly.'

'I've had some practice,' said the Doctor bouncing from left to right foot rhythmically. 'But tell me, how does the water not evaporate away or at least how does the water stay in the canal? I mean, how come it's held down by gravity?' He felt as if he'd made a bit of a mess with the question but it was too late now.

'It's not pure water like we had on the planet. I wouldn't advise drinking it. In fact, it's been treated so that it's heavier than normal.'

'I see. That's quite remarkable! How does that work?'

'It's a long story but essentially it's an extension of the traction beam technology, only on a molecular scale.'

'But isn't the process energy consuming?' he asked.

'It is indeed, which is why we have invested so much in solar energy.'

'This is all powered by the sun?'

'Two suns Doctor – both of them.'

'Yes, of course.'

'As well as solar power, we do use other less efficient sources but only about 7% and this has steadily been falling since the moon here was first colonised.'

'This solar flare technology that you said this Farockaway scientist was working on?'

Spessogack nodded.

'Well, is that anything to do with it?'

'Yes and no, Doctor.'

'How do you mean? I don't follow.'

'Well, no in that the project in question wasn't specifically set up with the aim of tapping into all of that energy but yes in that it is inevitable…. It would be criminal to leave all of that energy to waste. If only we could come up with a system to harness that.'

The Doctor stopped at the side of the canal and watched water traffic speed silently by. 'Very imaginative,' he said to himself. 'But please, tell me more about this The Owner chap I have to go rescue or whatever you want me to do with him.'

'Apart from what I've already told you, Doctor?' Spessogack looked surprised.

'The more information the better, I think.'

Chapter 15

Bersgaard woke and prepared herself for the morning's work. She looked around her chambers, sighed and clicked her fingers saying, 'Message' as she did so.

'Idiacoz,' said a voice.

'Play message,' said Bersgaard.

'Bersgaard? This is Idiacoz. I'm sorry that I had to sneak out so early without saying goodbye this morning. I'm afraid this… er… thing I told you about is getting to me. I didn't sleep much… Please keep things to yourself. I've decided to hide the message. Don't ask me where. I'm just worried, that's all. Farockaway's disappearance… I don't want to… I just want to take precautions. I need to find out more – I'm a researcher after all, so I should get to the bottom of this soon enough. I'm sure you think I'm exaggerating but… basically, what we found… I couldn't tell you everything because there's too much. And you weren't really being receptive, I have to say. Although I do understand you. Honest. I don't know what to think. Anyway, I've hidden everything properly now.'

Bersgaard rolled her eyes. Typical Idiacoz, she just can't leave things alone!

Bersgaard could never quite work Idiacoz out, which is perhaps what attracted her to her friend in the first place. Idiacoz hadn't always been so intense - more of an oddball really. And her relationship with Farockaway? That's a strange one. Good friends, family friend, colleague or lover? She smiled at the idea and got on with something else.

As young students, the two were very close but whereas Bersgaard maintained her more creative and radical ideals, Idiacoz had settled for a mundane research position and become – for want of a better word – dull. It was something Bersgaard resented about Idiacoz's relationship with Farockaway. If she was being honest she blamed him for coming between them.

Idiacoz on the other hand, agreed but felt that she had no choice but to be dull, disciplined and dedicated. Radical ideas were all right in the 'learning phase' as she called it but now she was in the real world. Look at what had happened to her father – publicly ridiculed for doubting Planetary Warming. Farockaway, almost tarred with the same brush, had just about got through on his reputation, charisma and wits.

Certainly, many of the most pessimistic predictions about Sirosan and Sirosan-2 had come true but it wasn't the whole picture. There were lots of grounds for optimism too. The society they lived in wasn't perfect but it was better than the cycles of dictatorship and war that had gone before.

They first met when Idiacoz interviewed her for some publication or other about the environment – it seemed an age ago now.

Naturally, Idiacoz had been heavily influenced by her father, Pasorlid, a controversial climatologist and she had moved in scientific circles from a young age, often carrying out research with her father. By contrast, Bersgaard had begun working as a teacher in a rough school towards the end of the dictatorship. It was at this school that she discovered environmentalism. Her pupils, she found out, had never seen a wild creature live. Bersgaard was determined to change this so she took her pupils on country trips, where they made sketches and romped across fields.

'I didn't become an environmentalist through love of the outdoors but by observing what happened to children whose lives were ugly because they had never had contact with the natural environment,' she'd said in the interview. It was from this starting point that her passion grew and grew. She wasn't likely to make a career out of her beliefs but the two of them were active in campaign groups that they strongly believed in.

Due to the controversy involving her father, Pasorlid, regarding debates on global warming, Idiacoz began to avoid involvement in campaign politics and concentrate on her career instead. As a result she drifted from her initial radicalism.

Later she shocked Bersgaard. 'Whilst I have doubts and so on, I do actually admire a lot about The Owner. I do, genuinely,' she affirmed. 'I have to keep saying this because people forget it: on climate change, if he hadn't developed Sirosan-2, we would be looking at the death of the solar system. He's the real radical,' she said.

Bersgaard regarded this volte-face with disdain and since then, their relationship had cooled somewhat. Finally, they had met up face-to-face in the lift and it seemed like old times again.

Chapter 16

A much younger Spessogack had been top of the class at military academy and he subsequently won dozens of decorations and citations – a military man down to the bone - yet his demeanour was at odds with his fellow graduates, in that he appeared more relaxed and less aggressive and recognition of this is probably what set him up for a career in the secret services, working behind the scenes to combat an invisible (some said inexistent) threat, rather than on the front line of battle. Some believed that Spessogack had since been chosen by The Owner to one day replace him. Others felt that Spessogack was already the power behind the throne.

Spessogack quietly observed Pigmal's interrogations with curiosity. It seemed to him that the policeman had no thought-out method whatsoever. Indeed, Pigmal was a man who'd made frequent and public criticisms of the Interrogation Brochure for being too soft on suspects. No wonder, he prefers to be heavy-handed - he hardly seems able to comprehend the concept of engaging brain and attempting to subtly outwit anyone. Even the act he puts on in front of me is transparently lazy and contrived.

Spessogack looked forward to the day he would see Pigmal lose cool, break the rules, maybe do something that he could safely be put away for. Maybe, not put away as such after all, he had a rank and not one police officer, never mind someone so high-up, had ever been found guilty, much less imprisoned, for any misdemeanour. Not even for what happened in the Dirty Wars. Blasting illegal immigrants into orbit was one thing; strangling prisoners in cold blood whilst in detention was, however one looked at it, still against the law and punishable by, well, at the very least, suspension on full pay or being pensioned off with a golden-handshake. Whatever. At least it would get Pigmal out from under everybody's feet.

Spessogack happened to be a great believer in Colluxx's techniques. The Secret Services preferred to make a source believe that the spooks already knew everything, which very often they did. The technique worked best with sources that were naive, in shock, or a state of fear, which pretty much covered all of them. Getting hold of all available data on the detainee including background information, however trivial, took up a lot of resources – but then, as Spessogack knew very well, his department's budget was able to expand as and when it was required to.

Instructions to interrogators in Spessogack's own department used to be regularly circulated in writing, until one day an extract was leaked and nearly published. The operation to clear up potential embarrassment afterwards had been a close call:

'Upon initial contact with the detainee, the interrogator asks questions, pertinent and non-pertinent, from a specially prepared list. When the detainee hesitates, refuses to answer, provides an incomplete response, or an incorrect response, the interrogator himself supplies a detailed answer. Through the careful use of a limited number of known details, the interrogator must convince a source that all information is already known and therefore, his answers are of no consequence anyway. It is by repeating this procedure that the interrogator convinces the detainee that resistance is useless because everything is already known.'

These days, interrogators were trained in-house and he would personally attend sessions to tell students that, 'When a detaineebegins to give accurate and complete information to the questions to which the interrogator has the answers, the interrogator begins throwing out questions for which he does not have the answers.'

Pigmal didn't like this technique at all because it meant careful preparation and memorising everything in detail, which might fail due to one small mistake. Not that he needed to care about that: his own departmental budget was large and resources, whilst not in Spessogack's league, meant that his staff were certainly up to the task of preparing dossier after dossier after dossier.

In fact, Pigmal had modified the technique somewhat, telling subordinates: 'Stuff a file with blank sheets so it looks like we've got more info than we really have. Titles like Work, School, Family & Friends, and Criminal Behaviour are good at making prisoners to cooperate because he thinks we know everything.'

Originally, Spessogack had thought to establish the Doctor's cooperation through insisting that the he and Ace were criminals wanted by higher authorities on very serious charges and that these two clandestine immigrants in a new type of vessel had finally been caught posing as someone else. Illegal immigration onto the moon had been upgraded into a much graver offence recently though anyone who knew anything about the issue realised that disincentives such as life detention - or even death - would not stop people desperately seeking a better life elsewhere. 'Normally, to prove themselves innocent, detainees will have to supply detailed information to substantiate their true identity.'

Although the Doctor had in no way been attempting to enter the moon illegally, the idea that he could be persuaded to do a little job had come into Spessogack's mind in a flash: the Doctor 'owed' him a favour, he was, after all, technically guilty of entering the moon illegally, furthermore, he wasn't about to go disappearing without his young companion.

Chapter 17

Ace would have enjoyed her trip to the museum a little more but for a number of things that she allowed to distracted her. With her mind set on escape but not knowing the layout of the building, she suffered a severe disadvantage. Doing a runner was likely to bring immediate capture - she laughed to herself at the thought that this was what the Doctor would do. The best way, Ace felt, would be to slip away quietly and unnoticed, whilst her chaperone was distracted – all too easy to imagine but not so simple to carry out in practice.

The other reason that Ace didn't enjoy the visit was that the museum was quaint and old fashioned. She turned to Markare. 'I was expecting something a bit better than this,' she said.

'What were you expecting?' he asked.

'Well, you know, something… a bit more… a bit more… modern… some… interactivity of some kind.'

Markare didn't reply.

Ace rolled her eyes. 'Well?'

There was a pause before Markare said, 'Yes, thank you.'

Ace chose to ignore this misunderstanding. 'Where now?' she asked.

'The next section on the official itinerary is…'

Ace shook her head. 'Look, please. I don't care about the official itinerary,' she interrupted. 'Just give me the edited highlights.'

'The museum was founded by…'

Ace raised her hand. 'Stop!' she told him. 'I didn't mean that…'

Markare looked at her, expressionless.

'Tell me,' said Ace. 'You're not a robot are you?'

'Robot?'

Ace wasn't being sarcastic.

'Yes, robot, you know? Not living, artificial, a machine…'

'Yes, I am a machine.'

'You're not like… you know… living… you know, like the secret service man and the immigration chap.'

'I don't understand.'

'Are you alive?'

'Alive?'

'You know what alive means… Or have you been programmed?'

Markare again stood gawking at Ace expressionless and with a slight delay that Ace found perturbing. Markare said, 'Yes, I have been programmed.'

'So you are a robot?'

'Yes.'

'And you didn't know what a robot was?'

'I didn't understand.'

'You're an intelligent robot?'

'Yes.'

'Okay,' she spoke quietly, thinking through the consequences. 'No more questions.'

Ace now had to consider her options differently in light of this new information. Dealing with robots, the Doctor had once taught her, was easier than dealing with living creatures. 'They are more predictable,' he had said.

'But,' Ace had replied, 'I thought you said that the Daleks and Cybermen were your most difficult adversaries…'

'Difficult they were, yes, but not impossible because they are ruthless without a doubt but if you can get one step ahead of them, then they are easy. It's the living that are the hardest. The Master for example. He was just so unpredictable...'

'Sorry… Slow down…'

'You see, it's like a game of chess. The computer is always going to give you a hard game because it's programmed to know all of the moves and it calculates them much faster than a living creature is able to. In the short term that is an advantage but in the long term even a human, for example, can predict what the machine is going to do. A good chess player can make an irrational move and the computers can't cope with that so they start making even worse moves. Do you follow?'

'Yes, yes, of course,' Ace whispered.

'You can play chess, I take it?'

'I can actually, and I'm rather good.'

'Well, you see that when computers and robots do something it's all about logical patterns and strategies and once they've gone so far down the path with a particular strategy, they find it difficult to recalculate and to deal with the unexpected and illogical. It wasn't until the mid-21st Century that computers regularly started beating humans at chess and that didn't last long once the cyborgs got playing…'

'Then what happened?'

'What happened?' The Doctor shook his head. 'Everyone stopped playing chess, that's what happened!'

Ace had asked the Doctor about the Daleks having a living creature inside them so that they were not strictly robots and the Doctor explained that because even the living bit inside the Dalek dogmatically saw the irrational as a weakness and the mechanical as an ideal, it lost the advantage of being a hybrid. 'Of course, you only have an advantage over a Dalek if you happen to know that. Otherwise, most people see them as pretty invincible and don't realise how to fight back and win.'

'So what about the Master?' she asked.

'The Master was both irrational and ruthless – the worst sort. He was very unpredictable.'

'So how did you defeat him?'

'Because, I was even more irrational and even more ruthless.'

Ace didn't really believe this answer; besides, didn't it just contradict what he'd been saying?

'Machines are great at making millions of calculations in a nanosecond but they're not very hot when it comes to making a qualitative decision. They're not very good at prioritising. They're not very flexible. And most important of all, they have absolutely no sense of humour.'

Ace didn't see the relevance of the last point but she had had enough.

Back in the museum, she looked at Markare. She needed to find out more about him.

'Let's sit,' she urged.

He sat.

'Tell me about being a robot.'

'What do you want to know?'

'You've got some sort of personality chip in all of that wiring haven't you?'

'What's a chip?'

'I mean that your programme is very good – it makes you seem life-like. I mean, the way… you know…' Ace was distracted and wanted to finish the question but couldn't. She wanted the robot to speak more and more and have to think a lot. She knew from the Doctor that this tactic would distract the computer brain. So she fired off some more difficult questions, not giving Markare time to respond to all of them properly. 'Okay, but tell me later – what about this.'

The robot continued to drone and all the time Ace was trying to think not only of more difficult questions for the robot to 'think' about but also how she was going to get away.

'What's the most difficult calculation you have ever made?' she asked and the robot could be seen to visibly slow down. Can I really escape from a robot this way?

'More questions: What have you been programmed to do with me?'

'I am your guide and your servant; I am here to provide information and service.'

'Are you here to follow me? What if I escape?'

'Yes, I am to follow you. But you are not a prisoner.'

'All of the questions, I asked you before.' Ace was ready to make her move as soon as the robot went into confusion. 'Well,' she continued, 'can you repeat those answers word for word forty-seven times?'

The robot paused. It wasn't going to work. Ace felt deflated. She would have to try something different. Then unexpectedly, the robot began reciting. Yes!

Ace stood but after a slight delay, the robot stood too. She moved away and sat down again. The robot followed her and sat too. This was never going to work, was it? Markare could still follow her.

Instead, she came to another conclusion. Ace decided she was going to do what she pleased, with or without him or it. Carry on, regardless.

Although his artificial intelligence was impressive, it was hardly the most important robot in the universe. There was no need to escape; at least not until it started refusing her requests.

Jumping to her feet again, Ace gave Markare, characteristically hesitating, one further question: 'Are you coming or what?'

'They control us with their aurora… their sky lights; they blind us with it… That's why we have no vision. We can't see them but they watch us, hiding behind paintings in the sky… They can predict.

I'm so tired, like there's a buzzing in my head. I feel like I want to be sick. My muscles ache. I feel detached from everything around me. I don't know these people – I don't even know myself. Who am I? What am I? It's like I'm in a dream and… or maybe this is the reality and I was in a dream before… But I can't remember the dream, but it was a nice dream in a world where I felt comfortable… I have a mission but I don't know what it is. If I can just go back to sleep and return there.

The MAGGZ… they controlled it, they were going to come and get us… There was not any doubting of that, that's why there is no owner… not no owner, no, not now not every, not…

I get these headaches… Like there's a weight on my mind, on my eyelids… and my head feels heavy, like it's too big and I have to fight to keep it on my shoulders… And my shoulders ache and I want to pull my arms off… I just need to sleep but if I sleep I have nightmares and then I wake up and it's worse…'

Chapter 18

Unable to leave Sirosan-2, the Doctor had little choice but to listen to Spessogack's potted history of Sirosan, its moons and its bi-solar system.

'The Owner dabbled in politics - and to be honest, it wasn't a massive success – though he claims that he didn't really get a chance,' said Spessogack. 'He was up against too many dirty tricks, too many vested interests. He'd already sold off his businesses so he had plenty of money and lots of time. I suppose he'd just got bored and wasn't ready to retire yet. Why should he have? He still had a lot to give.'

'But why politics and not philanthropy?'

Spessogack stopped talking. He couldn't answer that. Then he continued. 'The Owner purchased 50 percent of two other moons, the Violet one and the Red prison one

'So now he owns all of these moons?' asked the Doctor making a dramatic sweep of the sky.

Spessogack smiled. 'If only. But no, Montented already held one, which was Green and then, because Montented feels he has to keep up with The Owner, he managed to buy another.'

'What moon was that?'

'Ha! It wasn't even a moon; it was just an asteroid – the Golden Asteroid! But it's not really gold – The Fools Gold Asteroid, I call it.'

'Tell me about this Montented. Why don't you like him?'

Spessogack raised a palm. 'He's a rival to The Owner and very jealous – but all that in good time...'

'Right.' sighed the Doctor. This wasn't going to be as simple as he'd hoped. There were far too many things to remember, not because the Doctor didn't have a good memory but because so much of this stuff just bored him. For all his lecturing of Ace on the importance of brain over brawn, they were two of a kind. He just wanted to get on with things.

Spessogack continued. 'Well, Montented is important to the story – this bit a least - because it seemed that on the moon at least, what The Owner wanted, he got, and this sparked, let's say resentment on both Sirosan and on the other moons.'

'I imagine it would.'

'Well, Montented championed this attitude, which was that the moons belonged to the planet they orbited around. Instead, what The Owner argued – what we argued - was for greater devolution of power to the moons.'

'Surely, that's in The Owner's interest.'

'I'm not sure The Owner was so keen on it but the rest of us were quite enthusiastic. I think The Owner was more fair minded, if you see what I mean.'

'You mean to say that the rest of you weren't?'

'No, no Doctor, things came to a head after we announced that Sirosan-2 would stop paying certain taxes to Sirosan.'

'Pretty inevitable, I would have thought. "No taxation without representation," and all that,' the Doctor affirmed.

'Exactly, Doctor. You see my point.'

'Yes.'

Spessogack looked puzzled. 'How do you know that?' he asked.

The Doctor grinned. 'Sooner later, on every planet, someone says that.'

'I see. I thought it was very original and very clever, actually. But I supposed it's a big universe out there.'

'Oh, yes, it is.'

'Yes, well… In colonising Sirosan-2, The Owner paid a lot of tax on the franchise, not to mention the cost of the franchise itself being a form of tax. Effectively, after a massive investment programme, The Owner argued that he was entitled to make his money back – at least! The Owner argued that he'd paid enough tax individually to exempt the people on Sirosan-2 from any further contributions: the idea that it was unfair to make people living on Sirosan-2 pay tax to Sirosan.'

'Yes, sure, I can see that…'

'As far as we could see, we were getting nothing in return from the planet. On Sirosan-2, we have a very good system – we pay little tax and the procedure is simple. But down on Sirosan revenue-raising is both chaotic and grossly unfair. Hit and miss, lots of evasion and so on.'

'So people rebelled? Refused to pay?'

'They did. Well, anyway, just as it was thought that the confrontation might run out of control, The Owner backed down but not before he'd re-franchised the most productive parts of Sirosan-2. This meant that someone else would have to pay most of the taxes, leaving The Owner in overall charge and earning millions from his enfranchises and a number of other fees.'

Spessogack pointed towards a monitor and images began to appear. He waved his hand a second time and the images paused.

'Eventually, The Owner offered a compromise by agreeing to set up a Planning Council on the moon, which would be elected and free from interference in return for some degree of independence. What The Owner has done is successfully change the perception some people have about old-style public figures, which are considered distant from ordinary peoples' needs and attitudes. The Owner has come across as one of the people, up against inertia and a distant and bloated bureaucracy that stifles people's flair for innovation. That's how he likes to portray himself at least.'

Spessogack turned to the Doctor who seemed to be far away, distant. 'I take it you're not convinced.'

'You don't so much sound like an admirer as a fan,' suggested the Doctor with a snigger.

Spessogack looked up. 'I think that we should give credit where it is true Doctor – like many initial sceptics, I've been won over by what he has achieved up here.'

'The thing that I'm bound to ask is where the money came from to fund all of these extravaganza's. And why?'

Spessogack clicked his fingers and a monitor came to life.

In what resembled a television studio, The Owner sat on a high stool wearing a tunic. It made him look like a Roman Emperor, thought the Doctor. The same delusions of grandeur expressing themselves in the same old way…

Alongside The Owner sat an interviewer, Motfredson.

After welcoming The Owner, Motfredson said, 'Your empire has been founded on a lot of money, it has cost a lot to develop, yet you've never, ever, explained where that money has come from…'

The Owner sat still without expression as his interviewer continued. 'Furthermore, it is alleged that you were once part of a large, subversive organisation called Blackfriars, whose aim was to take control of Sirosan away from the government. How do you plead?'

The Owner looked away from the interviewer and towards the camera, calm and emotionless, then he burst into life and began to play the audience, using gestures with his hands and arms. 'Unlike many those who attack me, I have worked hard for my wealth. I've taken risks, with my own money - not the government's money I might add - and I've sought and been given sound financial judgement and advice. That's where my money has come from.'

Motfredson followed up. 'But you haven't answered the question about Blackfriars.'

'There's no question to answer, in my opinion. Blackfriars doesn't exist anymore as far as I know. It's of no relevance. No-one has taken control away from the Sirosan government at all – they're still in charge as you can see.'

'But surely,' insisted Motfredson, 'during the environmental scandals, many top level executives were charged and accused of bribery, false accounting, tax frauds and so on.'

'That's nothing to do with me…'

'But you were charged too…'

'And found to have nothing to answer…'

'I agree but some would argue.'

'Some would ACCUSE,' shouted The Owner, who now began to jab his finger towards Motfredson as he spoke. 'Remember, I'm innocent. I've never had charges pressed against me successfully. Don't forget that!'

Peering at the screen, the Doctor felt that this was being done rather over-dramatically for the benefit of the viewer, more than due to any real sense of outrage. Not that he didn't think The Owner didn't have reason to be angry. The interviewer wasn't done however.

'Yes, you've always claimed that but isn't it also true to say that whilst in office you pushed through laws granting yourself protection from prosecution?'

The Owner stood up then sat down again, becoming agitated once more. The journalist continued.

'… Members of the Planning Council couldn't be prosecuted for taking bribes to make a decision in your favour because you repealed the laws that they would have been prosecuted under. Your own situation was 'frozen' by laws you yourself had made.'

'It was a democratic decision,' protested The Owner.

Motfredson continued; he was reading as if from a charge sheet: 'Judicial and customs investigators claimed to have uncovered slush funds controlled by you and your companies which they expected to lead to prosecutions for financial and tax evasion, yet, it says here that you, avoided successful prosecution as a result of legislation introduced by the supposedly independent Sirosan-2 Planning Council such as de-criminalising 'false' accounting and making it more difficult to obtain legal documents from other moons.'

The Doctor was impressed. The worse the allegations became, the more The Owner relaxed. At one point, he even winked at the camera. 'I know where you are quoting this from,' he said. 'You claim to be independent but you are only carrying out the politics of your director. Surely if Montented wants to put these allegations to me, he should do so in person, not get his errand-boy to ask impertinent questions.'

'I'm simply doing my job as a journalist - I'm asking questions on behalf of people watching.'

'No, you are not. You're asking offensive questions. You've already decided the answers. You asked me how plead, like a common criminal. Ask me something else!'

'Well, these are the questions I'm asking you now. I'll move on to other questions later.'

'I've told you, I've answered those questions already, some of them are completely ridiculous. Go and ask Montented the same questions and then come back to me.'

'But Montented isn't sitting here right now.'

'Probably because he lacks the courage.'

'Look, could we please get back to the questions.' The journalist wasn't feeling comfortable either.

'I've told you: I'm not going to talk about it anymore. Ask me something else. Ask me about my plans for the future, about my policies, about how happy I am going to make people on Sirosan-2.'

'I want to ask you the questions I put to you first. You haven't answered them.'

'I told you that I'm not going to answer.' The Owner folded his arms and looked defiant.

'Well, I'm not going to ask you other questions until you've replied properly to these ones.'

The Owner smiled but less convincingly this time. It was a smile specifically designed to disguise his anger. 'If you just want to accuse me, I'm going to leave. Unless you want me to talk about the positive things I've done and what I plan to do for everyone in future, I'm just going to leave.'

'Well, I just want to get past these questions which are very important…'

'No, they're not important. You want to embarrass me. I've answered you. Are you going to ask me about my future plans or am I going to have to leave?'

'You can't force me to not ask certain questions. I'm…'

The Owner stood, grabbed the microphone clipped to his robes and began to take it off.

'Please, let's just continue the interview as…'

'I'm not staying here to be accused by you. You're the loser; you're the one who has to watch his step. You should be ashamed of yourself.'

At this point The Owner disappeared from view but could be heard muttering words like shame and embarrassment and that the journalist would be made to pay.

Spessogack flicked his wrist to stop the recording and turned to the Doctor. 'What do you think?'

'Well,' he replied. He was lost for words.

'Yes, he doesn't like to be intimidated, does he?'

'Well, I think he was pretty intimidating himself in the end.'

'That's a flavour of the man,' said Spessogack. 'Now, I've got one of the films about the history of our moon, specifically about The Owner. We don't need to see it all from the beginning.' He jabbed out his finger and this time 3 dimensional images illustrating the narration began moving in front of them.'

'…Very soon, The Owner, invited people to live on the moon. At the beginning, he even paid for families to move and set them up with an income and job for life! In the second and third phases of immigration, he gave them free transport. In the fourth, fifth and six waves, transport was subsidised. Steadily, as the population increased, immigrants to the new moon had to pay not only the full costs of transport but a one-off entrance fee. Then stricter criteria were employed to judge who could come and who couldn't – what skills and resources could they bring to the moon? As planet Sirosan grew ever more inhospitable, a trickle of illegal aliens became a flood before strong immigration controls were introduced. By now, more and more people were desperate to leave Sirosan…'

The Doctor got to his feet. 'I think I've seen enough, thank you. I mean, what I'd really like to do is get on with it. I need to catch up with Ace.'

'Very well, Doctor. We shall see to it,' replied Spessogack.

Chapter 19

Ace was heading for the museum exit. 'Keep up,' she teased as Markare followed her. From a distance she heard a shrill whistling sound. Maybe he's blown up?

The noise continued to grow louder before giving way to something not unlike that of a coil-spring snapping. Ace turned to see Markare come to a halt, as if in slow motion.

Suddenly a group of masked figures burst into the museum taking up positions around Ace. A man with a long main of multicoloured hair came towards her. 'Are you all right?' he asked.

Ace seemed uncertain how to react but she nodded.

'My name's Komodos. We're the Leaderless. Come on, let's go,' he shouted and turned on his heels. 'Follow me if you like…'

Ace again turned to look at Markare. Three people were trying to lift the statue-like robot but it wouldn't budge.

Komodos called out the names of those pulling at the statue. 'Wonloo, Sandee, Dorikev? Come on. Time to go. Quick!'

Wonloo, blonde and dressed in pale green, gave the robot a violent kick. Dorikev put a whistle into his mouth and started blowing again. It was a terrible racket thought Ace as she turned to follow Komodos, running as fast as possible out of the building.

The street outside was empty. Where had Komodos gone? Behind her Sandee shouted, 'Look left. Down the hole.'

Ace looked to see a multicoloured head disappearing into the ground. She followed, overtaken by Wonloo but still in front of Sandee and Dorikev.

'I am so pissed off,' said Wonloo trying to catch his breath.

A voice in the dark tunnel called. 'This way, we haven't got long, they'll be here soon!'

Ace had an awful lot of questions but she wasn't about to start asking any of them now. She just ran towards to the voices and the hint of light that lay ahead. It was a long run.

The light at the end of the tunnel should have brought relief; instead she faced a new challenge because now they were all out in the open again and easy to spot from above.

Ace felt a stitch coming on – she thought she was fit, she thought that the Doctor was fit, but this lot were something else. She wanted to slow down, take in some air – it was literally an alien atmosphere to her after all. The mix of carbon and oxygen was not dissimilar, but not exactly the same as Earth's, which in itself was slightly different to that of the TARDIS.

Before she had much time to think, the single file of escapees was already heading into yet another tunnel. Somewhere from above, there was a humming sound that grew then faded away rhythmically. Whatever was responsible, it was getting nearer, like one of those machines she'd seen at the cinema called Star Wars II or III or Revenge of the Something.

Expecting to have to repeat her run through a long and dark tunnel, Ace was rather relieved, if not surprised, to be grabbed from behind as she entered it.

'Gocha!' said Wonloo grabbing her arms and pushing her up against the wall. 'Stand back.'

Ace was breathless and couldn't have resisted even if she'd wanted to.

Komodos's face appeared from the darkness. 'We better go,' he whispered.

'Hang on. I just want to see what they do,' replied Wonloo.

'They'll catch us if we stay here,' said Komodos sounding irritable.

'Yes, but if they don't know we're here, we don't have to run.'

Ace didn't want to move while she was still regaining her breath but neither did she want to stay at the tunnel entrance.

'What if they're tracking the alien?' someone said in the darkness. Ace knew they meant her.

Next to her, Wonloo swore quietly. 'Fuck!' he said, retracting his head quickly.

'What?!' replied Komodos.

Ace suddenly felt terrified. Wonloo was spooking her more than her pursuers had. 'They've landed. There are loads of them.'

'I'm off,' said Komodos, 'We don't want to lose the others.' He turned and scuttled away.

'Sshh,' said Wonloo to Ace, raising a finger to his lips. She needed no convincing.

In the distance, the sound of motors died and there was a brief silence.

'Where…' Ace tried to speak but Wonloo stiffened his forearm against her chest and widened his eyes in alarm. He puckered his lips in a silent Sshh again.

There was a dull thudding nearby.

In the darkness, Dorikev showed his face. He clicked his fingers to get attention and beckoned Wonloo and Ace to the other side of the tunnel walls.

Wonloo nodded to Ace and to her surprise he pushed her from one wall to the other.

Next it was Wonloo's turn but before he could move, a bright light was shone into the entrance. Quickly, Ace and Dorikev moved deeper into the tunnel, leaving Wonloo on his own. The light shifted from left to right but didn't settle on Wonloo. Frightened and feeling that he could stay still no more he leapt to the other wall just as the light was returning to him.

The quartet moved quickly but quietly along tunnels, down ladders, more tunnels, up ladders and into vast caverns with flowing water underneath – some lit, others dark and requiring torches. It all left Ace tired and confused until they finally met up with the rest of the group in an abandoned building on the side of a rocky cliff.

'Fuck me,' said Wonloo loudly. 'That was too fucking close. I've had enough of this.'

'It was good that you moved when you did,' said Dorikev.

'Fucking I'll say!' said Wonloo.

Ace sat down and held her head in her hands.

'Sorry,' said Komodos to her. 'We've got to keep moving.'

'But aren't we safe down here?'

'No, not until we've been through the Maze.'

'That's a maze, right?'

'Yes, it's the only way to make sure that we can't be followed. They are dark and narrow and unpredictable. It's a massive maze but if you spend enough time down here, you learn it.'

'But can't the people chasing us learn it too?'

'They could but they'd need to spend lots of time down here getting used to it all – and they can't be bothered so far. Come on, I'll give you a hand up.'

'Thanks,' she replied rising to her feet.

'So,' said Komodos, leading her by the hand. 'What's your real name?'

Chapter 20

Having eaten a strange kind of paste from a tube – she was too hungry to criticise its blandness - Ace slept for what would have been a whole earth day. She was finally woken by voices muttering in the vicinity.

'She's doing this waking thing,' said Dorikev looking at her face with an expression of studied curiosity.

'Let's have a look then,' said Wonloo, shuffling into view from behind him.

'Give her some room,' said a pasty faced woman called Linlay.

Ace could make out the face of Komodos. 'This is amazing,' he was saying. 'Unbelievable.'

Her body ached all over – it was as if she had the flu - and she took time and effort to sit herself up. 'I've been asleep,' she said, stating the obvious. However, it clearly wasn't so obvious to those around her. They all nodded enthusiastically and said things like, 'Yes,' or 'So you have,' and even 'Well done!'

Coming out of her slumber, Ace suddenly felt vulnerable. 'Why are you all staring at me like that?'

Wonloo was first to speak. 'It's just that we've never seen anybody lose consciousness before.'

'I lost consciousness?' Ace felt the back of her head. There didn't seem to be any damage. 'You mean I fainted?'

'No,' said Higo, a thin, bearded man with long hair. 'He means that you 'fell to a sleep,' and at this, there was more nodding of heads and verbal expressions of agreement.

'Asleep?'

'Yes, that's it: asleep. At first, we all thought you were dead, until Dorikev here asked for help and found out that it is not uncommon for aliens to do the sleeping. If they had bothered to ask me earlier, I would have told them.'

'Why?' asked Ace, expecting a positive reply, 'Don't you ever sleep?'

The collection of people standing over Ace began to laugh again and she frowned. Wonloo said, 'No. We don't actually. Why?'

'It's just that every… well… Never mind. You mean to say that you… you are always awake?'

'Until we die that is,' Wonloo replied.

'But you are so… so like humans… I mean, you laugh and smile – humanoids – so why don't you sleep?'

'We never sleep.'

'But how do you rest?'

'We just sit still for a bit.'

Ace frowned. 'Look, I can't deal with this right now. I need to get up.' She grimaced.

'What is it?' asked Higo.

'My foot, my legs. They're so heavy. Ouch!'

Puzzled looks did not abate. Ace shifted her body weight and looked down.

She was still fully clothed and even had her limb suit and boots on. 'Oh, no,' she said, with a touch of resignation, then she turned back over and pulled the sheets up to her neck. Ace wanted nothing more than to go to sleep again, which is exactly what she did.

Chapter 21

The Doctor had never been one for waiting patiently but now he sat watching the night sky trying to work out what the tiny flashes he perceived could be. He briefly imagined that Ace might be doing the same, indeed there would be SkyLights for her to enjoy close up – that's what the flashes must be.

Unexpectedly, a door informed the Doctor that Spessogack was now waiting outside. 'Time to go, at last,' he said to himself - also through the window to Ace.

'I'm afraid,' Spessogack began, 'that we have some rather disappointing news.'

'Oh.'

'Yes, I'm afraid that the space weather is not very promising. Solar flares and radiation seem to be a big problem at the moment and therefore you won't be able to travel down to the planet after all.'

The Doctor felt relieved yet anxious about Ace's return. The sooner she was back, the sooner he could leave. 'Oh, I see,' he said, trying to hide it.

'Don't worry,' Spessogack reassured him, 'it will only be temporary.'

'You mean, I still have to wait here? You still want me to go down there?'

'Why? But of course.'

The Doctor turned back to the view. 'I saw some flashes in the Sky – are those SkyLights?'

Spessogack looked concerned for a moment then smiled. 'No-no, Doctor, those are not SkyLights, they're part of…' He looked lost for words… 'Just freak space weather.'

'How long do you think we'll be delayed?'

'I don't think it will be too long - a couple of Orbits at most, perhaps Half-a-Spin.'

Doctor sensed that Spessogack was hiding something. It was in his tone. 'Can I speak to Ace?' he asked.

'Well, well, yes, of course you can but it's… just that the… space weather is blocking the signal. We'll let you know when communications are up again.'

'I see,' said the Doctor.

'In the meantime, if there is anything I can do for you or get you…'

'There is actually…' The Doctor was bored.

'Please.'

'Well, I was wondering if perhaps I couldn't use the TARDIS to get down to the planet. It's really rather good at this sort of thing.'

'I don't think that is what we had in mind,' said Spessogack.

'You think, I'll escape, don't you?'

'No Doctor, I think that until you are sure that your TARDIS,' he said it disdainfully for some reason, 'has been repaired, you realise that you might be caught up in the storm yourself.'

'Well, all right then but, perhaps I could at least be allowed back to the TARDIS to collect some things and make some repairs, that kind of stuff...'

'Perhaps, Doctor,' said Spessogack firmly, 'you could make better use of your time in learning more about The Owner and Planet Sirosan…'

The Doctor stood with a perplexed look on his face. He really had no idea what to do with himself.

A short while after Spessogack had left him alone, the Doctor slept deeply for the first time in a very long time. On waking he said to himself, 'I really should do this more often, shouldn't I?'

Chapter 22

Ace strapped herself into a seat. She was in the cockpit of a space-vessel, similar to the shuttles she'd seen on earth on television in the 1980's. It hadn't been easy, what with her special limb suit and the fact that her seat was turned 90 degrees so that it faced upwards not forwards.

She pressed a button and the seat stretched out so that she was now lying flat on her back. She would have liked to turn left or right to adopt the more comfortable foetal position but she found it too difficult. Rather than the zero gravity she was hoping to experience, she felt she was becoming heavier and less able to resist a gravity that was similar to that on earth.

With her were two other crew members, Higo and Dorikev, whilst other Leaderless members wandered around in the part of the shuttle located just behind the cabin. She didn't think it fair that, whilst she was pressed down by gravity, they were able to dance around freely.

'Are you sure you are able to pilot this thing,' said Wonloo poking his head through the door. 'You're in a funny position, aren't you?'

Ace replied that yes, she was in a strange position but that she was doing everything by the book – she'd flown across the universe before, she could do it again now, she was trained.

'She's okay,' said Higo and he gave her the thumbs up. His hair and even his beard wavered as if there was no gravity at all now. How come I feel so heavy and everyone else so light?

Dorikev asked, 'Are you sure you're okay?'

Again she put her thumb up. Why do they keep asking me?

Ace reached above her head and started to press some buttons. It was like being on an airplane at home and adjusting the air conditioning nozzles.

'Shall I start the countdown?' she asked.

'Can I do it?' asked Komodos entering the cabin as if on cue.

Without asking her, Higo just said, 'Yeah, why not?'

Ace braced herself for a long countdown that would fire her space shuttle out of Sirosan's atmosphere and to Sirosan-2. Instead of the countdown she'd heard many times on earth, Komodos blurted, 'One-Two-Three!' and there was a huge roar.

Despite the importance of what was going on around her, Ace was appalled at the way Komodos had trivialised the matter. It was a count-down, not a count-up, hence the name countdown. It really annoyed here, that did.

People cheered, which Ace could hear inside the cockpit itself, all that way up. The acoustics in the rocket were stranger than those of the TARDIS and that really was saying something.

It didn't take long for the effects of gravity to wear off and she began floating with ease.

'Look Ace,' said Komodos waving his arms and legs. 'I'm free!'

Ace sneered at Komodos. She was still irritated by his count up. She felt belittled and cheated by this. But why?

Wonloo floated across to check if she was well. 'All right?' he said, in an accent that reminded Ace of cockney London.

Ace laughed and smiled, then did a somersault. 'Wow!' she said, 'This is fun,' then suddenly, the spacecraft shuddered.

'BLOODY HELL' blurted Wonloo. 'What's going on?'

'It's all right, it's all right,' said Higo, floating in. 'That'll just be the sound of the rocket motors being jettisoned, you know, the boosters.

'Oh, all right,' said Wonloo.

'I thought we were under attack for a moment,' said Komodos.

Again there was a violent shaking of the rocket.

'That'll be the next one,' said Higo reassuringly.

'So,' said Ace, 'what do we do now?'

This time, the faces of the others not only reflected fear and surprise, as when the rockets were jettisoned, but they lit up for an instant, like something had exploded.

Ace turned quickly to look, which was an activity much harder than she'd thought it would be because of the zero gravity.

'Fucking HELL,' said Sandee.

'Fuck it, man,' said Wonloo.

Ace turned to see a rocket heading away from them. She presumed that the jettisoned rocket had somehow over-taken them, and then flown off in a strange direction. She pulled a face and looked upon her new friends for guidance.

The Leaderless Collective in turn, were all staring at a monitor in front of them. There was something like a television broadcast being shown:

'Shots were fired across the bow of a Sirosan space-shuttle forcing it to turn back, admits Sirosan-2 Defence Councillor Reith. The unprecedented actions are based on new laws, introduced with the backing of The Owner, allowing Sirosan-2 military the power to use full force to turn back spaceships they believe contain illegal immigrants. However, eye-witnesses say a volley was fired directly at the vessel in an act of open aggression, callously calculated to terrify its 2888 passengers, including 514 frightened children.'

Ace was having trouble breathing. They must have been hit. Perhaps they were on fire. She no longer liked being weightless because everything was too slow – she couldn't move easily. There was nothing to push against. It was at this point that she felt a panic come on. It was hard breathing. She was going to die. The monitor continued to relay the news live but was unconcerned at their own plight.

'Incredibly, news of the shots was initially suppressed by the Planning Council until The Owner's own NewsData services published reports of the Council's unsubstantiated claims that 114 Sirosan citizens, including children, had used an escape capsule in a supposed bid to force Sirosan-2's defence services to rescue them. Senior Sirosan-2 ministers accused Sirosan parents of throwing their children into escape pods and declared, 'We don't want people like that on Sirosan-2 so Sirosan citizens arriving without permission,' the statement continued, 'will not be permitted to intimidate Sirosan-2.''

Ace was now floating above the other Leaderless Collective members but no-one seemed to notice her. Was she dead? Was this some form of Astral Travel? She'd heard the Doctor say that it was possible, 'but not in the sense we know it.'

'What sense was that?' she had asked but he had never bothered explaining it to her.

Ace stopped breathing for a few seconds and panicked. There was a loud noise and her throat tightened. Then she gasped and air finally reached her lungs. She opened her eyes.

There was a general sensation of relief that she had only been dreaming; but also of embarrassment to see Wonloo and Higo looking over to her.

'Have I been snoring?' she asked.

They just grinned at her and then went back to looking at the monitor in front of them.

'You don't know what snoring is, do you?' she said.

'Was it that choking sound you were making – very loud and rhythmic?' asked Higo.

The same voice as she'd heard in her sleep continued, 'On the basis that the immigrants were wearing space suits, he insisted, that they had a pre-meditated plan to put Sirosan-2 under duress as a publicity-seeking stunt.'

There were guffaws from other Leaderless members as a new voice chimed in, angry about something: 'I absolutely condemn the throwing of children into rescue pods; whatever point that course of action is an attempt to make.'

Ace sat up, then slowly got to her feet and wandered over to the others to watch the monitor.

'The story began to unravel when journalists on Sirosan asked a Sirosan-2 Planning Council spokesperson for proof that children had been placed in rescue pods and whether these pods had subsequently been rescued either in orbit or on the moon itself. Caught off-guard, a spokesperson initially denied the existence of, and then belatedly produced, two images of rescue pods that had landed on the moon. But the hazy images proved nothing, showing two white dots in the sky!'

The broadcast, then switched to another topic and Wonloo let out a swear word – just for a change.

'What's happened?' asked Ace.

'There's been a shoot-out in space,' replied Higo.

'A shoot-out?'

'Sirosan-2 has fired at one of the ships trying to land.'

Ace thought back to her own recent experience in the TARDIS and felt herself lucky to have been rescued. 'Why did they do that?' she asked.

'That's what they're doing to immigrants these days,' he replied, not really clearing up any of the confusion. 'They fire at them.'

'I don't understand,' she said.

'What's happened is that a space ship of some kind was full of people trying to get to Sirosan-2…'

'From here?'

'Yes, from here, mainly, but it had also picked up people from a couple of the moons - and they're illegal so Sirosan-2 are trying to stop them. This time, they've fired on one of the ships.'

'How? Why?'

'Well, they've fired a warning shot first and everyone's panicked and a lot of people have got into Life Pod's, so at the end of the day, it's made it harder for Sirosan-2 to capture them and send them back. They were trying to say that the immigrants got into LifePods or chucked their kids in there deliberately.'

'So?'

'What do you mean?'

'Isn't that a good thing? A Life Pod?'

'Well, it's pretty dangerous because they aren't proper space ships – a lot of people have died. It's always a last resort.'

Higo looked over Ace's shoulder, 'Hang on – there's more…' and he stood starting at an Immigration Department representative, who declared that there was a live-feed recording showing rescue pods being ejected from the vessel, one of which was rescued and found to contain two children, however he was refusing to release the video, citing 'operational security' problems and claiming that it was an infra-red recording only.

'Can't they edit the video to cut out the security concerns?' asked Wonloo to the monitor. 'And why were they using infra-red video during daylight on the moon?'

The report continued, 'The media has been barred from interviewing the immigrants concerned, so they are unable to tell us their version of the Planning Council's allegations. Even military personnel have been forbidden to speak to reporters, including a defence department publicity officer who actually witnessed the incidents!'

Higo said to Ace, 'You see the question is whether the Sirosan immigrants jumped into rescue pods to protect themselves from Sirosan-2 weapons; it looks like they might have been reacting out of fear of being shot at.'

Komodos turned down the monitor volume and said, 'I think we need to call a meeting.' Turning to Ace, he then asked whether it wasn't time she had something to eat.

'More paste?' she asked without enthusiasm.

'Yummy, yummy,' said Higo licking his lips.

Final Report:

'We've pieced together some information but whoever he was, he isn't on any sort of road to recovery. He's more lucid when he talks about the past but it's just totally confusing to anyone listening and he ends up agitated and it does him harm. He needs to move on. Whatever the past was, it wasn't very pleasant.

We're not in the lost and found business. Our job is to take care of our patients, try to 'cure' them but if that isn't possible, we try to make their lives as comfortable as possible. Asking questions about identity only runs against this. We've tried it. Now, it's time for him to move on, and grow into the 'new' person he is becoming… It's not an easy decision, but it is based upon avoiding suffering. It's not that it is wrong to try and identify him but that is the authorities' job, not ours – and, in any case, they don't seem to be particularly interested. Even DNA and other scans have brought nothing. He's not wanted for anything. For them, he's just a lost cause to be thrown on the rubbish heap. Our task is to help him realize his potential, not return to a past that haunts his dreams. It's for this reason that I can only conclude that a transfer to the Golden Asteroid would be beneficial.

Chapter 23

On those rare occasions that The Doctor slept, he also dreamt and as befits a universe full of coincidences and unexplained phenomena, it was more or less the same dream that Ace had been having below him.

However, unlike Ace who had dreamt in the first person, the Doctor dreamt that he was the mother of one of the children placed in an escape pod.

The Doctor dreamt that his name – or her name - was Megormerly, and he knew much about where she was from and what she had been through.

Everyone in the spacecraft was cheered by the announcement that their ship was going into orbit. Her saga was about to end. No-one could look much further in life than landing on Sirosan-2. They didn't know – or care – what fate awaited them after that. Whatever it was, it had to be better than staying on the planet and, at best, an uncertain future.

As in Ace's dream, there was a sudden thud that felt like an explosion in space. Tension was in the air but no material damage appeared to have been suffered. The ship continued to manoeuvre into its new orbit. However, a short while later there was another thud and this time alarms began to sound before an announcement was made telling everybody they had suffered damage and were sending out a distress call.

Inside the compartment Megormerly had shared with 30 others, there was panic as people headed for the exits. Where are they going to go? she thought but then the announcement came through to abandon ship. Apparently there was a fire and nothing to lose.

Megormerly grabbed the arm of a woman standing next to her. 'What do I do?' she asked.

The other face stared at her in astonishment then, 'Get out of here! Into the Pods!'

Megormerly turned to her left and asked the same question to a young couple but she was just ignored.

It was difficult to get out of the compartment as the corridors were full of people who had the same idea. Although it was not yet close, she already sensed the presence of smoke and toxic fumes.

Just when it seemed that the blockage of passengers would not move there was a surge forwards with everyone heading for the same LifePods.

Megormerly knew better and instead she went in the opposite direction and then, coming to a stairwell, headed down onto the lower levels, for she had calculated that, the ratio of LifePods to passengers would be greater here. Nevertheless, there was still competition and indeed, there was more smoke in the lower decks all of which was sweeping along corridors in an attempt to reach other levels. Megormerly began to cough and instinctively covered her baby's face.

At least there was a degree of organisation here. People were being told by the crew to queue, with children given priority. Without warning, a crew member grabbed at the baby. Megormerly twisted and instantly pulled it back.

'JUST FUCKING DO IT! GIVE ME THE CHILD! NOW!'

The hard stare of the crew member was enough to convince her and now she knew exactly what she had to do. She handed the child over and watched, whilst the crew member passed her son on to another who took the child through a door and away from her for good.

Megormerly wanted to cry but everything had all happened so quickly and her own survival instincts had kicked in as well. She wanted to follow her child but she knew she would not be allowed to pass. She had to find another way.

The Doctor woke with a start. It had been a very unpleasant dream and so vivid. He quickly switched on the monitor and watched for news about this incident.

'Tragedy struck again when a space craft carrying illegal immigrants bound for Sirosan-2 exploded after it was reported to have been deliberately set on fire.'

The image put up by the broadcast was a computerised reconstruction of what the reporter was describing. Pictures from the scene had not yet been collated.

'Two died and one-hundred and sixty had to be rescued after the spacecraft was sabotaged whilst being intercepted by Sirosan-2 defence vessels, officials say. The two were thought to have been asphyxiated after the burning space craft was abandoned. A Defence Department statement on the incident says the immigrants deliberately destroyed the vessel to prevent the military returning it to where it had set out from.'

A military spokesperson came onto the screen:

'That this was a deliberate action by Potential Illegal Immigrants is reinforced by the fact that they all wore spacesuits. The vessel ignored warnings from a military patrol to turn back and it had already entered Sirosan-2 orbit.'

The report cut back to the studio:

'The spacecraft was then boarded by military personnel who had to negotiate barricades erected by those on board. '

The official appeared once more:

'On boarding the craft, a fire was discovered and the ship subsequently abandoned. We began immediate rescue operations during which two children were recovered unconscious with no pulse.'

'The latest incident comes as accusations fly on Sirosan over whether the Sirosan-2 Planning Council misled the public over claims an earlier space craft of immigrants had deliberately thrown their children into rescue pods in order to blackmail the military into taking them to Sirosan-2. The Planning Council had used the incident politically to reinforce its tough new stance on immigration, but conflicting claims from Sirosan-2 officers suggest no such actions occurred and that the Planning Council had been misinformed. The release of a military video that the Planning Council had earlier said supported the child-dumping claims proved inconclusive, although it did clearly indicate the spacecraft was distressed and that those on board had to abandon the vessel.'

The Doctor called Spessogack again but he wasn't immediately available. When Spessogack finally got back to him, the Doctor was quick to express his anger.

'THE REASON WE CAN'T GO TO SIROSAN IS THAT THERE'S A FULL SCALE WAR GOING ON UP THERE, ISN'T IT?'

Spessogack replied calmly. 'It could be one of the reasons, that's right, yes… but it's not war…'

'Those were the flashes of light I saw, weren't they?'

Spessogack didn't answer.

'You want me to do a job, don't you? So get me down to the planet and let me do it, will you?'

'Yes, Doctor. I'll get it organised right away.'

Chapter 24

Down on Sirosan, the Leaderless Collective had a very different idea about what had happened. They called a meeting to discuss what to do next. There were only thirty members in attendance but, as Komodos had assured Ace, there were other likeminded souls elsewhere in the planet.

They sat in three concentric circles on the floor and Komodos, in the middle, began to speak.

'The Planning Council have adopted a zero-tolerance stance on illegal immigration - I think what happened clearly shows that. The only opposition that's been given publicity is the Sirosan-2 Council for Migrant Aid who are calling for, "Constructive debate about Sirosan-2's obligations to protect immigrants," and "an end to misleading rhetoric which exaggerates the situation affecting Sirosan-2 and promotes anxiety amongst its inhabitants." So, I think the question is about whether we trust the Sirosan-2 Council for Migrant Aid and whether we support this pledge.'

'That's two questions,' said Higo.

Komodos laughed with the others. 'All right: two questions then.'

There was silence. Komodos seemed a little troubled and looked from face to face in the hope that someone would say something. He was about to speak again, when Wonloo piped up. 'I say that we don't trust them. It's up to them what they do on Sirosan-2 anyway. I think it's irrelevant.'

Again there was silence. 'Anyone else?' said Komodos, before turning to Wonloo. 'You mean the Sirosan-2 Council for Migrant Aid are irrelevant?'

'Yes,' confirmed Wonloo.

Linlay put a hand up needlessly and when Komodos nodded, she said, 'I don't know - what do people think? I think that we should agree with this pledge because it's better than nothing. It might have an influence. I don't know what else we can do?'

Wonloo spoke after her. 'I don't think we should give them legitimacy. They are in league with The Owner. They just want a nicer face on Sirosan-2, that's all. They haven't lifted a finger to stop The Owner. A Pledge is just meaningless. It's laughable.'

More silence. Then Dorikev intervened. 'I think the only way to show solidarity is to go up there with these people and fight back when the Sirosan-2 military fire at us. Anything else is pointless. We have to be where the action is. And we need to show people what happens – record it and that.'

'Yeah, but how do we get there?' asked Linlay.

'I don't know – can we sneak on board?'

Higo spoke up. 'There's no way you'll get on board unless you pay. No way.'

Again, there was a pause as people thought what to say.

Stvordz said, 'If I go up there in a spaceship, I'm going to go all the way. I am not coming back. I'm taking my family.'

Gramelwit nodded his head vigorously. 'Me too. I'd go there to live. And if we go and live there, we can be politically active on the moon instead. We can have more of an influence.'

Ningbooton now came in. 'I think that we shouldn't have anything to do with Sirosan-2, living there and all of the rest of it. There's no way we'll be allowed to campaign up there. There's only the illusion of free speech. It's full of spies. That's what this pledge and stuff is all about – that's as good as it gets or will ever get.'

Gramelwit said, 'I think you've got to look after your family first. I'd go with Linlay and the children and join the Pledge – it's the only realistic alternative. I can't take risks any more. Besides, what future is there on Sirosan…' His voice trailed off.

Komodos turned to Ace unexpectedly. 'Ace, what do you think?'

'Me?' She was embarrassed. 'It's not my decision; I don't know.'

'Yeah,' said Dorikev, 'It's nothing to do with her – she isn't part of this group.'

'Why not?' asked Higo.

'Why not? Because she hasn't been here long enough.'

'Not long enough? How long does she have to be here then?'

Komodos tried to nip any argument in the bud by calling for a vote.

'Not yet!' snapped Higo.

'I just wanted to see what people were thinking.'

'But we haven't finished discussing, yet.'

'All right, all right, agreed Komodos

'Besides, can she vote or not?'

'Who? Ace? I don't see why not.'

'Yeah,' said Dorikev, 'but she's only just arrived.

The debate continued to veer off course and Ace felt guilty that she was the reason. Some argued that she was part of the group de facto; others that she should have to 'prove herself'.

Finally, Ace held up her hand and asked to speak. 'I'm not here to waste your time. I'm just grateful you rescued me. I wanted to escape and you helped me.' She looked around the room. 'But I don't want to join your group.'

'You don't want to,' asked Dorikev. 'WHY NOT?'

'I have my own things to do. I'm not from here, I'm not staying here, you've got your own lives and problems. I don't know enough about them.'

'And what is it that you are here to do?'

Ace had to think quickly. 'I'm just waiting for the Doctor to come down from Sirosan-2.'

'You've mentioned the Doctor but who is he? Tell us more about this Doctor.'

'Well, it's not important. You're having a meeting now.'

'We want to know anyway.'

Ace explained as briefly as possible where she was from. She told them that the Doctor was also an alien and that they travelled together. She explained how they'd been captured and that then she had been effectively kidnapped. The reason she had been kidnapped was to prevent the Doctor escaping, to force him to come looking for her, to come to the planet.'

'And do what?' asked Higo.

'I don't know. To look for someone.'

'Who?'

'Well, I think someone said something about an Owner.'

There was a shocked silence now.

'Go on,' said Wonloo, so Ace told them what she knew; that the Doctor had agreed to go looking for The Owner.

'What? He's missing down here? I don't think so,' smirked Wonloo. 'No way. They wouldn't lose him here. Maybe on one of the other moons.' He laughed aloud.

'I might have misunderstood,' said Ace, hoping to tip sentiments back in her favour.

'Okay, look,' began Higo, 'I suggest a compromise: until Ace makes a proper decision whether she wants to stay with us, then she can't vote.'

'I agree,' said Komodos.

'Can someone else agree?' asked Higo as you're chairing this meeting and don't count.'

'Charming,' replied Komodos.

Everyone announced their agreement at this compromise and they returned to the more serious matters at hand.

However during the meeting, Ace perceived some divisions within the group. One or two of them favoured contact with the Sirosan-2 Migrant Aid Council with a view to discussing possible collaboration but the majority voted against. Dorikev repeated his line that they should board the immigrant ships in solidarity but he was in a minority of just two. What prevailed was a consensus that there was really nothing that could be done by the Leaderless Collective up on the moon and that they had to concentrate their efforts on changing things down on Sirosan itself. What eventually happened, when the discussions were over was, according to Ace, possibly the worst possible scenario.

Ace quickly learnt to understand the complicated balance of power on the planet. Firstly, as Ningbooton had pointed out, the term 'planet' was misleading because most of Sirosan was completely uninhabitable, therefore Sirosan was effectively just a few outpost settlements surrounded by wilderness. Only towards the poles was it reasonably safe to live, though even here there pollution was significant. In fact, without the black market in genetically modified food, much of which had been grown on the moons, most of those left on the planet would have starved to death by now.

Secondly, although there was meant to be a proper planet-wide government, it was more like a bureau for external affairs. Government in any real sense did not exist. There were no social services, no health provision, rarely any initiatives to boost the economy and the police forces had long ago been integrated into the military, who didn't so much uphold the law as show that theirs was the gang to end all gangs.

Sirosan was overrun by private armies and militias; gangs and bands all armed, dangerous and with no concern for anyone but themselves. The Leaderless Collective existed only in the sense that it was too small and insignificant – and had no wealth and resources worth stealing – to threaten the gangs.

Some of the Collective appeared to regard this condition as Real Anarchism, but most of them were scathing, saying that it had nothing to do with the system they had been dreaming of and striving for. Arguments and debates continued to vex everyone. Ace wondered what they actually had in common to keep them all together as a group, and when she asked Ningbooton, he didn't seem to know either. Fortunately, due to the gravity of recent events, they did agree long enough to produce a communiqué:

'The number of spacecraft and people arriving on Sirosan-2 continues to rise. The Immigrant Action Coalition is right to have linked the latest tragedy to the Sirosan-2 government's hard line policies. These immigrants are desperate people fleeing catastrophe so it is not surprising they might take desperate measures to get to safety. The Planning Council are responsible for the consequences of shutting the door to poor migrants seeking shelter.'

The statement ended boldly: 'THE MORE THE PLANNING COUNCIL TRIES TO MAINTAIN THIS RIDICULOUS PROTECTION POLICY, THE GREATER THE NUMBER OF CASUALTIES WE ARE GOING TO SEE!'

Chapter 25

The Doctor was bored and frustrated. This situation could go on no longer. He was trapped on a moon and if it hadn't have been for Ace being effectively kidnapped and held below as a form of blackmail, he'd have surely have left by now.

Thoughts of entering the TARDIS anyway, zooming off to collect Ace and disappearing to somewhere on the other side of the universe, or even just to the next solar system, had occupied the Doctor but it was the fear of failure – of failing Ace more than anything – that had kept him in check. It seemed that Spessogack had known from the beginning exactly how to play the Time Lord and his conscience.

The Doctor had also been tempted to steal a vessel and head down to the planet regardless but there was no real reason to believe that Spessogack was not telling the truth and that it really was too dangerous at the moment, be that due to Space Weather problems or conflict.

On the other hand, the Doctor was just not used to staying put. That required a special kind of discipline, which he didn't even want to have…

What to do? He couldn't even speak to Ace because of the Space Weather, never mind go and rescue her. Therefore, to keep himself busy, he decided to do some more fact finding, not only on The Owner but on the SkyLights phenomena.

The Doctor's first line of investigation, regarding The Owner, was to see whether he had any particularly critics. It turned out that The Owner's chief rival, in both business and politics was someone called Montented, naturally enough, another media proprietor and a major shareholder in one of the planet's largest and most influential Information corporations.

Beginning with computer databases, Montented had expanded to into other media and become a powerful force in not only all aspects of communication but also its darker side, surveillance. It helped make him one of the foremost entrepreneurs of his age.

Montented's father had been a well-connected member of the political and financial elite, and became an influential newspaper executive and media owner. Montented was deeply influenced by his father, and although he clearly wished to emulate him, he often rebelled.

After his father's sudden death Montented took over the running of his father's business. His early NewsData career was notable for a campaign against the murder conviction of an illegal immigrant, for which Montented took much credit, although the real hero of the story was Montented's crusading editor.

Over time, Montented gradually established himself as one of most dynamic NewsData proprietors ever seen, quickly acquiring other media and NewsData services. Next, he beat The Owner in a broadcasting auction, which meant providing NewsData services to the Orange Moon. In secret, Montented also acquired a minority share in the Green Moon, which was to be used solely for the purposes of telecommunications. In a short burst of activity, Montented had suddenly become one of the 'big three' NewsData proprietors in the Solar System, The Owner being another new arrival. In the aftermath of elections, Montented swung his media to the left to back the winners, but by the next election it had returned to the right – again backing the winners.

As his empire grew, Montented established a hugely lucrative financial base, and these profits were routinely used to subsidize further acquisitions. In the early period of NewsData ownership Montented was an aggressive, micromanaging entrepreneur. His tactic was to buy loss-making media and turn them around by introducing management and editorial changes and fighting circulation wars with the competition.

'That was an opinion at least,' thought the Doctor.

In whatever way his success had been achieved, Montented's power base was now so strong that he was able to acquire a lot of media. Further takeovers built his reputation as a pitiless and shrewd business operator, arousing great antagonism among those who feared he would ruin the communications sector.

'So where did it all go wrong,' the Doctor later asked Spessogack.

'The last straw for many was when Montented tried to adjust the production process of his media and NewsData services. This led to a confrontation with his workers.'

'Who won? I think I know already…'

'Yes - in the end, he moved his entire production to the Green Moon. He built a modern new plant in secrecy; its existence kept hidden until it was ready for work. This was around the time The Owner was elected leader and he and Montented collaborated during this affair but there was little trust, or love, lost, on either side.'

'So why are they political enemies?'

Spessogack took a deep breath and clenched his hands together. 'Montented is generally seen as a conservative, though the true picture is complicated. Some say he tends to support any incumbent politician, in the hope of influencing government decisions that may affect his businesses.'

'So all his media does is produce propaganda for his views?'

'Not really,' Spessogack explained, taking the suggestion with utmost seriousness. 'Montented's media outlets on the moons generally support autonomous positions, which is ironic as Montented himself claims to be in favour of central state control from planet Sirosan. He's not very consistent.'

'And The Owner is?'

'It's a question of degree,' said Spessogack. 'Montented's politics are pragmatic and opportunistic. His overriding agenda is to advance the fortunes of himself and his companies. The Owner is more consistent, more reliable. Montented cannot be trusted.'

'You don't think The Owner has used politics to look after his own interests?'

'That's what Montented argues – you've been researching then – when in reality all The Owner has done is defend himself from accusations. For example, Montented has been running a scandalous media campaign about migration from Sirosan to Sirosan-2; he had another campaign uncovering pollution on Sirosan, allegedly caused by The Owner's companies. As if one person could be held responsible for millennia of Planetary Warming. He even implied that it had been a deliberate policy designed to make Sirosan-2 more attractive in comparison.'

'Well, wasn't it?'

'Of course not. I'll tell you that even on Sirosan itself, despite the slanders, The Owner still enjoys a lot of support.'

As they spoke, Spessogack was interrupted by a message in his earpiece. He listened carefully and then spoke. 'Doctor, I'm afraid that something else has happened.' He looked for somewhere to sit and indicated for the Doctor to do the same.

'What is it?'

'Your assistant has been kidnapped.'

'KIDNAPPED? How?'

'She insisted on going to visit a museum or library and there was a raid of some kind. A guard – her personal guide – was destroyed.'

'What!? Where is she? Who has taken her? Is she all right?'

'We don't know where she is precisely. Somewhere near the north pole area… She was taken by an anarchic group. We think that they are called the Leaderless Collective.'

The Doctor was livid. 'So what are you going to do about getting her back?!'

'It's all being…'

'GET ME DOWN TO THAT PLANET NOW!' The Doctor left his quarters and walked at pace. Spessogack ran after him. 'I don't want to waste any more time. If I find that this is another one of your tricks?'

'It's all right. I can assure…'

'WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO START TELLING THE TRUTH?' The Doctor's voice echoed off of the walls.

'I don't think she will come to any harm?'

'What are the police doing? Do they know where to find this Collective?'

'There are no police on the planet any more…'

'What? Well who the hell was with her then?'

'A robot from the military.'

'A robot. A robot? You sent Ace out there with a robot?!'

'There's nothing wrong with robots – in fact they're usually better than…'

'WELL THIS ONE SEEMS PRETTY USELESS, DOESN'T IT? What is this Leaderless Collective? What do they want with her?'

'Oh, I think they're pretty harmless. Small scale propaganda activities. They want to overthrow the government of course, set up communes and collectives and such like. They hate us, naturally, but they're not really a problem. Not like the gangs.'

'What gangs?'

'Well, much of Sirosan-2 is in reality controlled by rival warlords. It strikes me that this Leaderless Collective – they want anarchy – have got what they wanted.'

'Who do we know in them? Is there anyone we can talk to? How do we find them? What will they do? Demand a ransom of some kind?'

'No, I think they will just release her. They aren't involved in any proper criminal activities. As I say, propaganda mostly – some publicity stunts. They don't kidnap people – at least not so far.'

'So you mean that you have no idea? And what if they make exceptions for aliens?'

'She's probably as safe with them as she is with anyone else. Certainly, if one of the gangs got her, she might not come out of it. We publically describe the Leaderless Collective as terrorists but that's not really the case.'

'I can't believe you've taken her down to such a place – and you expected me to go down there too?'

Spessogack didn't reply.

'I need to go and find her. NOW! Never mind the weather and the battles. Sort it out now!'

'Doctor, Doctor… It's best you leave any kidnappings to the authorities. They are dealing with it as we speak.'

'Well they haven't done a very good job of it so far, have they?'

Spessogack was silent again.

The Doctor continued. 'I want to know as much about this Leaderless Collective as possible. And you can come down with me for a start!'

Chapter 26

Dorikev approached Ace furtively. 'There's something we need to ask you about,' he announced.

'Of course, anything, anything at all,' she replied, keen to contribute something useful.

'Well, some of us were thinking – and we know you'd like to get back to Sirosan-2 as well – that we could board one of the immigrant ships and go to the moon.'

Ace was taken aback. 'I thought that was meant to be impossible,' she said, and added, 'It was voted down, wasn't it?'

'Yes, but if we could do it, would you want to come along?'

Ace paused a moment to reflect. 'I think it would be best to get back, yes, but they'll only capture me again.'

Dorikev shrugged his shoulders. 'It's up to you,' he told her.

'Are you going to steal a space ship?'

'What?' Dorikev laughed. 'No. No-one knows how to fly one but we could stow-away perhaps on one of the ships taking immigrants to the moon.'

'You mean, illegal immigrants, don't you?'

'That's the only kind there is these days, unless you have lots of money.'

'But who owns the ships? Gangs?'

'Yes, people smuggling gangs' said Dorikev, 'but they're not all dangerous. It's not like they issue tickets or anything like that. Once you're in, you're in. It's a one-way trip.'

'And if you don't pay them?'

'If you do happen to get caught – I mean, they don't want too many dead bodies about on the planet – it's not like they execute you for stowing away because it's not going to deter people from trying to make the journey. If they start executing stowaways, even the Sirosan government will have to get involved and no-one wants that. As long as they get a certain amount of money for their trips.'

'So how do they make sure everyone pays?'

'No-one's paying on the gate, as it were – they don't want to have all that money in one place surrounded by desperate people. Instead, immigrants pay in advance and then they're told where to gather, where the shuttle is going to leave from.'

'I see,' said Ace. 'They minimise the risks.'

'Precisely. The people smugglers get paid in advance and once they have a certain amount of money guaranteed, they organise the details.'

'So anyone can turn up.'

'Well, you do have to know where to meet. And you've got to play the part a bit. You can't turn up elegantly dressed or they'll know something's wrong. Believe me, there's no problem sneaking in and stowing away.'

'I'll have to think about it,' said Ace. 'Who else is going?'

'There'll be a few of us. Gramelwit and Linlay want to move there with the family – they want to emigrate. I just want to go up in solidarity with the people there. I want to expose what's happening to others – make a report, take pictures, describe it all, let people see.'

'And the others? Komodos and Higo and so on…'

'They don't have to come if they don't want to. No-one can force them.'

'But you took a vote.'

'So?'

'So you voted on a course of action, which was not to go.'

'That doesn't mean we can't go. Besides, I'm not planning to stay there. I'm going to broadcast info about it whilst we are there, and then come back. I'll probably get caught and expelled.'

'I'll have to think about it a bit more,' said Ace. 'But keep me informed, eh?'

'Well, don't take too long – and please don't tell anybody else yet.'

Ace felt she was running out of alternatives. Sirosan was a dangerous planet to live on with sudden and frequent storms. No wonder buildings were only one story high – the others having apparently, over time, been blown away or damaged beyond repair. Wonloo explained how initially a building would survive a storm only suffering minor damage but before repairs could be made another storm would come and, with less shielding such as closed windows and sealed roofs, the structure was finished off in a short time.

Ace didn't like spending most of her time literally under the ground and she didn't like living in a zone where she might be blown up, shot or kidnapped by warlords.

It had been the longest amount of time that Ace had spent without the Doctor since they first met – not only was she physically separated but there was no communication at all. The solar storms had passed some time ago and surely by now, had she not escaped from the military, she'd have had contact from him.

The thought of returning to the Sirosan-2 Moon wasn't so bad, though it did appear somewhat dangerous as stories of ships breaking up and crashing were rife. On the one hand, Dorikev said it was safe to travel; on the other hand, he was going on the trip precisely to expose how dangerous the whole escaped was. If Sirosan-2 were deliberately attacking immigrant ships then it was a recipe for disaster. And what if, by now, the Doctor had left Sirosan-2 and already come down to Sirosan to find her then complete his mission?

Dorikev possessed a visual recording device located in a pair of Goggles so that whatever he saw was recorded and broadcast. Although Gramelwit, Linlay and Steve were travelling with him, he felt angry because in his opinion they were only interested in looking out for themselves, therefore he didn't have much to say to them. Wonloo and Higo had also decided to take the trip, much to the annoyance of Komodos who asked what the point of the vote had been.

The problem of actually stowing away wasn't quite as straightforward as Dorikev had said. When they arrived at the meeting point, they found queues and checks. Some of the people smugglers were demanding to see a token of some kind that had apparently been given to people who had paid. Gramelwit and Linlay were furious with him and Steve decided he'd had enough and was going home but as they stood in line trying to think of a plan, they realised that a group in front of them were clearly doing the same thing and were planning to haggle a price with those on the gate. When, finally, it was this group in front's turn, there was a long wait as a discussion between the heavies on the entrance and the group of five people continued to no avail and they were finally refused entry.

As the five walked away, one of them turned and threw something at the people smugglers at the entrance forcing those present to take cover.

'EVERYONE INSIDE!' shouted one of the bouncers at the first ten or so people standing near the entrance as a dozen colleagues ran out in pursuit of the culprits.

'So far, so good,' whispered Dorikev to Ace.

The launch itself was similar to the dream that Ace had had. She wasn't in the cockpit of course and there was no space suit but the effects of gravity were similar, though somewhat more unpleasant and in some cases, vomit inducing.

All passengers stood fixed to the floor of the shuttle by foot clamps. Once in orbit, they could undo them and float around until a light artificial gravity kicked in and they floated a little less. They were lucky, according to Linlay as not all ships had artificial gravity. Indeed, conditions for immigrants on some of these vessels were appallingly unhealthy, she said, but without checks and indeed, without being legal, there was little that could be done to ensure safety, not unless there was a big change of heart by the various planetary and lunar authorities and such flights legalised.

Dorikev pointed his Goggles at Higo, who had since decided not only to accompany them but act as narrator, and now he began to describe the scene:

'We're safely onboard and up. I expect that the crew flying this thing will take us into orbit around the moon and then slowly descend. Hopefully, we'll be escorted down to the surface without incident but there have been reports lately of Sirosan-2 authorities trying to blow known immigrant vessels out of the sky, warning shots and even worse, they say.'

Dorikev slowly recorded the scene around them as Higo continued speaking.

'On board there are about 900 hundred people – the vessel was really built to take 700 but it's not over-crowded as there are no supplies on board. There is a rumour that LifePods have been taken out so as to accommodate more passengers but I don't see any real evidence of that, although there hasn't been any sort of count of numbers on board.'

Dorikev turned back to Higo and then looked rightwards, out through a window.

'It's a beautiful site. Pretty soon we will go down into orbit but for now I'm sure you can make out some of the moons.'

As he spoke, the crew were being warned by Sirosan-2 to stop their engines.

'No way,' was the reply from the cockpit. 'We are in distress; there is a problem that needs fixing. I'm afraid we are going to have to abandon ship unless you allow us down to the surface. This is an emergency. I repeat: this is an emergency!'

There was a long silence at the other end of the audio link and the ship continued its route as if nothing had happened.

Back in the passenger section, Higo thought he saw a flash in the distance. 'There's something out there I think. Look.'

Dorikev moved closer to the window but could see nothing.

'Probably my mistake,' said Higo. 'I thought I saw something shine.'

Back in the cockpit, Sirosan-2 finally replied to the ship's request: 'Turn back,' they said. 'Turn back!'

'I repeat,' said the pilot. 'Our ship is disabled. We are unable to turn back. We want to go into orbit and then come down to the surface. We are kindly asking your permission to do this. Please confirm.'

Again there was silence. It seemed to the crew that whoever was speaking to them was having to relay messages to and from someone higher up in authority and of course, they were correct.

Chapter 27

'You must look at this,' said Spessogack to the Doctor. It seemed pretty urgent.

A caption scrolled from right to left: REFUGEE SPACE CRAFT SURVIVORS TRAUMATIZED; HUNDREDS DIE.

A reporter explained the pictures they were receiving:

'Traumatized survivors of a spacecraft said 200 people were trapped in the vessel's hull as it broke up. Others suffocated in their space suits and rescue pods after being left floating in space. Officials say the death toll may pass 350. The vessel, which was reportedly carrying illegal immigrants to neighbouring Sirosan-2, broke up and officials said only 440 survivors were saved out of a reported 4500 on board. News of the catastrophe has only just been made public.'

'We think your assistant may have been on board,' Spessogack told the Doctor.

The Doctor glanced at Spessogack then looked hard at the monitor to see whether he could spot Ace, knowing he couldn't.

'The figures are completely unreliable,' said Spessogack.

'Underscoring the clandestine nature of people smuggling and the difficulties authorities have in controlling it, spokesmen for the police and military could not confirm reports of the vessel's destruction but survivors recalled 200 people trapped in the vessel's hull.'

'What makes you think she was on board?' asked the Doctor.

'One man from the North Eastern Tundra said he lost four brothers in the disaster. He said the shuttle left from the White Moon, after the immigrants had paid a lot of money each for the journey. The hull suffered a pressure loss, the mechanic could not fix it and sections of the space craft had to be sealed off, he said.'

Spessogack turned the volume down a degree. 'Members of the Leaderless Collective were on board – we've established that. And we think that your assistant was with them.'

'Thousands of migrants head for Sirosan-2 every year from Sirosan. Aging vessels overloaded with passengers and cargo routinely leave docks without working communications or enough space survival suits and LifePods. Later, the captain announced that the engine had stopped and the ship, with 400 passengers aboard, was leaking.'

'Hold on!' the Doctor's attention was drawn back to the 3d images.

'Sometime later the space craft was fired upon. It again failed to turn back so a different instruction was given to the crew, to go to the nearest asteroid. According to the Sirosan Planning Council Defence Department, this was when the immigrants allegedly threw themselves into rescue pods and released them. The mother ship then broke down and began to founder, forcing the military to take the passengers off board.'

Spessogack had expected the Doctor to react with anger, even violence and had prudently posted two guards outside, listening in on their conversation but the Doctor continued to sit and watch the continuous live updates – mostly speculation and opinion rather than hard fact.

The Planning Council was furious at what had happened and made a statement. 'One can only assume that these immigrants sabotaged the vessel deliberately because these people have behaved abominably from the start.'

As events developed, it was rumoured that the Redevelopment Board of White Moon, had agreed to incarcerate the immigrants in a hastily-designated detention centre, in return for an initial payment, to be followed by more cash later on.

The Doctor continued to watch, helpless and not knowing the plight of his companion. It was he who had got Ace into this mess in the first place. They'd walked into trouble upon landing and he'd been tricked. The Doctor feared for the worst.

'The obscure Sirosan group known as the Leaderless Collective, who are believed to have had members on board the shuttle, have issued a statement.'

The Doctor's ears pricked up. 'These are the bastards who had kidnapped Ace,' he said

'It now seems that the vessel's Sirosan passengers will find themselves imprisoned for six months or more in a former military barracks on an asteroid!'

The Doctor listened for signs in the voice of the speaker, as if he could somehow learn something more about Ace, but he gathered no clues.

'The White Moon is the third moon or asteroid in a month to be bribed or bullied into becoming a holding pen for Sirosan-2's unwanted immigrants - they are rapidly becoming gulags, with neighbouring moons imprisoning thousands of refugees at The Owner's behest. In just over a month, The Owner's so-called Planning Council has transformed the military into a refugee herding service, ordering warships to seize one Sirosan vessel after another, load their passengers onto troopships and force their prisoners onto isolated asteroids.'

The Doctor turned to Spessogack. 'So you've killed her? First you kidnap her, then you blow her up?'

Spessogack said, 'We will track down this collective and find the guilty parties.'

The Doctor turned slowly to Spessogack. 'You just don't get it, do you?' he said chillingly.

All the time, new reports continued to arrive.

'Rescuers have plucked 20 bodies from orbit and continued searching for a further 200 last night after a space craft loaded with would-be immigrants crashed in the Hector region of Sirosan-2.'

'She may be all right. We don't know for certain that she was on the ship. It's more likely that she stayed behind,' offered Spessogack.

'Defence ships and some shuttles rescued 41 people after the space craft began to lose height yesterday well above the surface. But 189 more passengers were feared dead on impact.'

'No, you don't know that. You said differently earlier. Ace would have wanted to come back here as soon as she got the chance! After YOU took her away from me!'

'Authorities said the space craft set out 'from a neighbouring moon' for Sirosan-2, with passengers from Sirosan on board. So far, they are unable to explain why the ship crashed. Several smaller vessels have failed to leave either the Sirosan atmosphere or orbit around Sirosan recently.'

Spessogack said, 'If she hasn't been kidnapped…

'How did the others get on then?'

'Reports claimed that two other craft carrying illegal immigrants have been found just beyond White Moon orbit slightly earlier. The first, carrying 28 people, was found in high orbit heading for rendezvous with Sirosan-2 and the second was already on its way having used the moon as a slingshot.'

Spessogack had nothing else to add. Within him, he was also concerned about Ace but for slightly different motives.

'In a similar case, 60 people are believed disintegrated after their overloaded space craft crashed into a disused weather satellite causing fears that a major disaster could result from incidents in space.'

Firstly, if the Leaderless Collective had really kidnapped ACE – because Spessogack felt she would have tried to have escaped anyway – they would have made demands by now but they had never been into such activities before and were mostly a harmless bunch who, he believed, would one day grow out of their rebelliousness.

'Some 3,000 illegal immigrants, reportedly reached Sirosan-2 recently, forcing authorities to house them in temporary 'Welcome Centres' in the Crater Zone.'

But now, with the location of Ace less certain, how was he going he motivate the Doctor to go down to the planet and get The Owner?

'Most of the vessels reportedly set out from Sirosan and Sirosan-2 officials have criticised the government for failing to stop the launchings'.

The Doctor spoke as he left the room. 'Let's get this Owner business over and done with, shall we? Take me down there.'

Chapter 28

Ace was helping Straskji record data live for eventual editing and was tense and nervous in case anything bad happened to her new-found friends.

Since meeting the Leaderless Collective, Ace had gotten to know its members very well and enjoyed their company – it was such a contrast to being cooped up in the TARDIS with the Doctor and his moods. Not that she didn't miss him; just that it was nice to be amongst people who openly appreciated her and weren't afraid to show it. These were not only people of her own age but they had a desire to interact with their environment and try to change it, a refreshing alternative to some of the people she used to hang about with on earth – most of whom had made her feel either tomboyish, eccentric or both.

Ace had attended all of the Leaderless Collective assemblies since being, as they called it, 'liberated' by the Collective and she had thrown herself into their workload, which was as much about every day survival – food, clothing, heating, etc – as the political activity and ideas they had been brought together by.

The was a sombre mood as Ace finished helping to edit the footage, which had been relayed to the Leaderless Collective by Dorikev and Higo, who were now missing feared dead. The atmosphere amongst the Collective was subdued although some still dared to hope that their friends had survived and were now in detention somewhere. Either way, they no-one was coming back very soon.

Ace enjoyed the video recording work, as having left earth during the eighties, she'd never had chance to use this sort of technology. The Doctor had told her that a few years after leaving, humans would be carrying small cell phones around in their pockets, even watching television on them – making television programmes with them – sending moving images between these devices from one part of the globe to the other. It sounded too farfetched for Ace; maybe the Doctor had got the wrong planet. Maybe he really meant 200 years not 20!

There had been a big argument at the next subsequent meeting about whether the Leaderless Collective should send out the documentary under their own name or submit it to one of The Owner's rivals. The meeting illustrated many of the divisions that existed in the group, which, Wonloo confided had been developing for a long time.

'We can't trust the official media to tell the story correctly – they are all in it together. Montented might be a rival to The Owner, but against us they'll gang up on the same side!'

'But we can exploit the differences between Montented and The Owner. Montented is better after all!'

'He's not better – he's the same or maybe he's even worse. We can't talk about being anarchist and independent and Leaderless and then suck up to Montented just because he is one of the few who has the means – and the motive – of putting this stuff out.'

'But there's no point in making this documentary if no-one gets to see it.'

'You think they'll broadcast it as is, without interference?'

'Yes.'

'Then you are very naïve. They'll cut it and edit it to serve their own interests. Montented doesn't care about immigrants – he's just using this to attack The Owner because there's a lot of support, or at least sympathy, for them. He's jumping on the bandwagon!'

'I don't think Dorikev and Higo intended to do all of this work and take all of those risks just to satisfy Montented; he did it - they did it - for the benefit… I mean – they did it to show what happens up there – to attack The Owner.'

'Well, Montented wants to attack The Owner as well, doesn't he?'

'But what about attacking Montented - who does that then?'

'That can wait.'

'It's all part of the same problem – two sides of the same coin and all that.'

'Look – why don't we take a vote on it?'

'Why don't we discuss it more first?'

'We haven't time!'

'We're hurrying to suit their agenda – it could be a massive mistake.'

'I don't agree'

'If it goes to Montented, I'm leaving!'

'So am I?'

The vote, when it finally came, revealed a partial majority for the Montented option so that the documentary was sent to his media company with the express instruction to broadcast it in full without editing, as the Leaderless Collective owned the copyright.

Almost immediately, Montented's company announced they would be broadcasting a NewsFeedFile called, Refugee Spacecraft Sabotage, produced by one of his top reporters, Gerpilg. It was billed as 'sensational stuff' and 'A declaration of war by The Owner on everything Sirosan has ever stood for'. There was no mention of the Leaderless Collective or of Dorikev's footage, though a couple of frames were used.

The group settled down to watch quietly and the narration began with a voice-over showing some buildings.

Some time ago, in a crowded immigrant camp on the White Moon, detainees told us that they would still pay people-smugglers to get them to Sirosan-2 despite the dangers of such a journey.

Gerpilg, the reporter whose voice began the transmission, turned to face the crowd behind him and spoke with a raised voice. 'How many of you will go to Sirosan-2 on a spacecraft to try to get refuge again?'

There was a holler of general agreement before the reporter continued. 'We are here only a couple of Orbits after 350 people died on a spacecraft travelling between the White Moon and Sirosan-2. Most of them had come from Sirosan beforehand.'

'It's so sad,' said Komodos to the rest of the Leaderless Collective.

This survivor told us how he'd lost his partner and his uncle on that voyage. He'd kept his daughter alive by putting her into an adult space suit and tethering her to the ship, worried all the time in case the air pressure was too great, frightened in case the bonds became lose, worried how he would get her back on board through the airlock - but even he claimed he'd try again.

An immigrant called Cresek spoke, 'I don't want to go by shuttle again but I will do and even if the same thing happens, I will do it again and again and again.'

As the Planning Council was quick to point out this week, no more people-smuggling craft have made it to Sirosan-2 since then.

Justice Chief Wigwigzz appeared: 'That has been because of our strategies, which have largely involved cooperation with the White Moonauthorities…'

'How far has it gone?' asked a Senator Aigle, 'What activities are acceptable or otherwise? Who performs them and who pays? What accountability is there? Who is in charge? What is the outcome? Is any consideration given to safety?'

Ace scanned the faces of the collective. They still hadn't fully resigned themselves to the fate of their comrades; maybe they were looking for something in the footage to give them hope that they had survived.

Senator Aigle, one of the Opposition's most experienced and respected Shadow Ministers, raised the politically explosive question: Was the ship in any way targeted?

'I want an independent inquiry into this,' said Aigle, 'The military don't have a licence to kill!'

Details of a disruption program on the White Moon run by the Sirosan-2 authorities only came to light after our investigation into the so-called informant known as Oniponipo.

There was some booing from the Leaderless Collective. 'YOUR investigation?!' Wonloo called out.

A three-dimensional image of Oniponipo appeared. 'I've been working with the Sirosan-2 Police,' he said.

A couple of the Leaderless jeered at him too.

White Moon locals told us that Oniponipo was a people-smuggler taking money from refugees, by promising to take them to Sirosan-2. But Oniponipo revealed he was working as an informant for Sirosan-2.

Gerpilg was back on screen. 'Is there anyone from the Sirosan-2 police, who can confirm your story?'

'Yes,' replied Oniponipo, 'Not on Sirosan-2, I can't, but on the White Moon.'

'And they know that you're actively involved in people-smuggling?

'Yes, yes, they know. I can't go public though.'

'Recently the authorities released a statement about their investigation into our story on Oniponipo's activities.'

Again Collective members booed at the possessive adjective. 'It's not your story – it's ours!' shouted Higo.

'They dismissed our proof of his people-smuggling but as we reported, the investigation has serious failings. What about the criminal implications of Oniponipo's involvement in people-smuggling – a view supported by one of Sirosan-2's best know legal experts.'

A caption read, Professor Plesim, who told the reporter that, 'Oniponipo took people smuggling money illegally.'

Motfredson asked, 'If the authorities knew that, have they perhaps committed the offence?'

'It depends how we see their participation. It seems that they did fail to stop Oniponipo, indeed they gave money and support and knew that he was tricking the White Moonauthorities.'

Oniponipo has even admitted that he's sometimes paid White Moon locals to scuttle craft with illegal passengers in them!

It was Aigle again, 'Did Oniponipo sabotage of vessels? How much do the Sirosan-2 authorities know about this?'

There were gasps from some of the Leaderless Collective as they listened to Aigle. 'Immigration Councillor, Razzorz, recently travelled to the White Moon – were these things spoken about? The People-Smuggling Taskforce's notes indicate that disruption activities were discussed on a number of occasions and recommendations were made that disruption should be intensified. What does that mean specifically?'

The Planning Council has so far failed to deny that someone from the White Moon did subsidise an over-zealous pursuit of Sirosan-2's disruption policy.

Mermub, Defence Council Spokesman answered: 'It is not Planning Council policy to sabotage spacecraft and endanger lives.'

That's not my question though – did it happen? It may not have been Planning Council policy but were people asked to…?

Mermub interrupted, 'The Sirosan-2 Planning Council certainly did not sabotage any craft.'

Recent history reminds us that sabotage has been used before by some Planning Council officers to stop immigrant craft getting to Sirosan-2. A former Sirosan-2 Immigration officer admits such disruption activities from his days in the Dirty Wars, where vessels carrying immigrants were deliberately incapacitated just out of orbit to stop them continuing to Sirosan-2.

A shadowy figured came on screen. 'We sabotaged them and this stopped most arriving.'

Aigle reappeared. 'Senator Wigwigzz and Mermub have said publicly that it's never been the policy of the Sirosan-2 Planning Council to sabotage people-smuggling vessels but that's not good enough. They complain about our, 'outrageous questions' but demanding answers is a fundamental responsibility.'

Oniponipo insists no lives have been lost due to sabotage but the Minister for Defence and Immigration, Bansyra, raised this concern:

'A sabotaged spacecraft may break up and crash with major loss of life back on the planet.'

Senator Bansyra also made savage criticisms of the evidence given by Police Commissioner Pekinanpkin:

'The Police Commissioner completely misinterprets questions. Why doesn't he give us straightforward evidence? Why do all these officials have selective memories or lack the gumption that would force them probe issues they have responsibility for in the jobs? If you're funding people-smugglers, you would want to know what they are doing but this Planning Council doesn't want to know.'

Chapter 29

Inevitably, the news that Ace was safe came as a tangible relief to the Doctor. It wasn't that the Doctor wasn't hardened to loss, even of those close to him; it was that he felt he had a responsibility and therefore his actions weren't independent but were largely determined by others. He used to joke that such burdens are, 'What make me human'.

It was somewhat of a dichotomy. The Doctor really wanted to travel alone and be responsible for no-one. It was a reaction to the fact that in most cases he ended up responsible for everyone – whole planets, races, universes and so on. On the other hand he needed some sort of stable companionship. He'd always felt an outsider on Galifrey and hard done by because of the way the Time Lords had treated him at various moments, the patronising tone they always used, the exile on earth and so on. He needed at least one person to witness his bravery, wit and desire to do good deeds. He didn't regard himself as a maverick at all despite the way he had once played up that side of his character; it was the Time Lords, he felt, who had always been slightly out-of-step, out-of-touch and, not without irony, rather out-of-date.

Spessogack had broken news to him that was less than straightforward to explain.

'How do you know?' The Doctor had asked him.

'We just know,' came a most unhelpful reply.

'Yes, but do you have any proof?'

'We do, yes,' said Spessogack, as if offended.

'Well, what is it? What's the proof?'

'I'd rather not say.'

The Doctor gave Spessogack a withering look. 'I see. You'd rather not say.'

Spessogack continued to stare at the Doctor with the air of someone who is burdened by pretending to have sympathy.

'Because if she's dead,' continued the Doctor, raising his voice now, before dropping the volume dramatically, 'then how are you going to get me to go down to that the planet there? You've got to give me a reason to carry out your stupid rescue mission, haven't you? You want me to believe she's there… whether she is or not. I'm right, aren't I?'

'Very well, Doctor. We know that not all of the Leaderless Collective were on board. They actually sent out footage of what happened. Propaganda. They sent it to Montented because he's opposed to The Owner but Montented just gave it to us – in the interests of planetary security of course – and from what we've seen, there's no sign of your companion on the ship.'

'And that's it?'

'Isn't that enough? We know people stayed behind – who do you think sent the data. If they had all gone on the ship, she might have gone as well but only two of them went up and the others have produced a documentary.'

'Can I see it?'

'Er… I'm afraid not; we're analysing it now – I'm sure you understand the implications for security, Doctor.'

'Didn't that go out of the window when you confided in me earlier?'

Spessogack looked at him expressionless.

'So what can I do?' asked the Doctor.

'I think you just have to wait. But in the meantime, we have made some progress of our own. We have reason to believe that one of The Owner's scientific team, Professor Farockaway's, prodigy, Idiacoz, will be able to tell us something about what he has working on with The Owner. We know that a message has been left for her by Farockaway and that might be a clue.'

'So? You must know what's in the message…'

'No, we only know that Farockaway has confided in her somehow. We need to know the contents of that message – or at least the relevant parts.'

'Can't you ask him?'

Spessogack rolled his eyes. 'I wish. But he's gone missing too…'

'So you want me to fetch this scientist back too? Anyone else, while I'm at it?'

Spessogack shook his head. 'We don't care. He's not a priority. But we suspect that he can lead us to The Owner.'

'And this team member, who got a message from him, does she know?'

'Does she know what?'

'What they were up to.'

'She probably does, yes. That's what we're hoping.'

'Well, can't you just go and get it out of her?'

'Of course we can - but we thought you might like to speak to her first… Softly-softly.'

'Did you really?' sighed the Doctor, making no attempt to hide his annoyance.

'I think you better read these first,' Spessogack said and he handed the Doctor a set of files. 'I thought you might prefer them in this format rather than the terminal.'

The Doctor glanced quickly at the front page:

PLANETARY WARMING A LIE SAY SCEPTIC SCIENTISTS

"Planetary Warming is a myth", according to a group of scientists proclaiming themselves Sceptics. The group, which includes Professors Farockaway, Pasorlid and Gabidandini, say that there are, "Too many ill informed Planetary Warming interest groups."

"The basic science is not in place," said climatologist Pasorlid yesterday, lamenting, "A large increase in the number people who associate themselves with climatology," Pasorlid said that scientist are too dependent on the problem existing in the first place and the industries are profiting from environmental regulation.

Criticizing the waste management industry, he said, "Even fuel providers use environmental measures to increase profits. The environment, itself, is now a major industry."

Gabidandini, also a climatologist warned that, environmental regulations may restrict individual freedom. "Public perception, influenced by deceptive publicity is disconnected from reality." In the Southern Peninsulas there has been a tendency to cool yet most believe the climate is warming due to a greenhouse effect.

Pasorlid added that the economic and social consequences may be greater than the original environmental danger. "Improved technology and increased wealth actually allow a society to face environmental threats."

Award winning scientist Farockaway, complained that scientists were under pressure to get the 'right' results but, he added that scientists were often complicit.

The professor complained about Computed Scenario Predictors, which he dismissed as experimental. "We tend to be mesmerised by anything produced by a large enough computer."

The Doctor turned to Spessogack but the latter spoke first, 'I don't know enough about it - I'm not an expert - but you can speak to Idiacoz yourself if you like.'

'Idiacoz? I want to speak to Pasorlid?'

Spessogack looked apologetic. 'I'm afraid he's no longer with us.'

'Well then, Gabidandini but…'

Spessogack shook his head to indicate that Gabidandini had passed on as well.

'That's what happens normally, isn't it? When someone's right. When someone is getting close to the truth. That's your line of work, isn't it? Pasorlid dead, Farockaway missing. Next you'll tell me that Gabidandini has committed suicide…'

Spessogack side-stepped the implications of the Doctor's anger. 'You can meet Pasorlid in our simulator. His personality profile and history was one of the first to be stored. I actually find the simulated version more agreeable than the real thing ever was.'

'That's handy,' said the Doctor, for it was not the first time he had come across a device of this nature.

'Remember, the avatar has no knowledge of what happened after Pasorlid's death so you may have to act as if certain things have not happened yet – to avoid confusion.'

Inside the simulator, the Doctor put on the correct Goggles and introduced himself to the Pasorlid avatar. The Doctor started by going through some of his concerns. 'In light of what's happened to the environment on Sirosan, don't you think you were wrong about Planetary Warming after all?'

'I speak as a scientist,' Pasorlid affirmed somewhat robotically, 'I can't find a basis for the warming scenarios described.'

The Doctor spoke again. 'It seems fairly unanimous, I mean… the build-up of greenhouse gases on lots of planets, and…'

Pasorlid didn't wait. 'I've read studies by economists, agronomists and hydrologists. They report that if planetary warming were to happen, there would be little difficulty adapting to it.'

'Surely, it would be a catastrophe,' said the Doctor, because what Pasorlid was saying didn't make any sense to him. 'Surely, even a modest rise in temperature would represent a huge amount of warming. Not necessarily uniformly.'

'Just because the planet is the way it is, doesn't mean the causes are clear; there could be other reasons. Estimates of sea-level increase have been lowered since they were first made. The potential contribution of warming to rising sea-levels would be less that other more important factors.'

'Such as…?'

'It is always believed that carbon dioxide will double or quadruple present values,' said Pasorlid. 'Ice core and atmospheric sampling shows the amount of carbon dioxide in the air has been increasing since the planet was formed. Once, the density was approximately 300 parts per million by volume; today it is approximately 400 due to increased of fossil fuels burning and deforestation'

'Isn't it supposed to have been increasing exponentially?' asked the Doctor. 'Isn't that your theory?'

'Yes. Now the rate of increase is much slower. It is difficult to predict what will happen to carbon dioxide in the future.'

'Increased carbon use, advances in living standards, population increases… That would lead to a doubling of carbon dioxide very soon, would it not?'

'You say that but no study is predicting it. The Computed Scenario Predictor that is usually referred to is about things staying the same. In fact, the chemical Computed Scenario Predictor used wasn't consistent with past records; it would have predicted that we already have about 450 parts per million by volume. It is an anomaly that technology hasn't improved energy generation meaning we use less carbon.'

'I understand but…' the Doctor hesitated, not wanting to sound either patronizing or alarmist, even though the hologram of Pasorlid could hardly have taken offence. 'Particular regions experience planetary warming more than others.'

Pasorlid had been nodding his head throughout and it wasn't clear whether he was doing it because he agreed or because he'd heard it all before. Or maybe the algorithm was stuck! But now he spoke. 'The greenhouse effect is supposed to have an atmosphere that is transparent to the sunlight that warms the planet. The planet offsets it by radiating in the infrared which increases with increasing surface temperature. The temperature adjusts and balances itself. If the atmosphere were transparent to infrared radiation too, the infrared radiation produced by a surface temperature of minus eighteen would balance incoming solar radiation (less what would be reflected back from the planet by clouds). The atmosphere is not transparent to the infrared so the planet must heat even more to deliver the same amount of infrared radiation into space. That is what is called the greenhouse effect.'

'Go on…' the Doctor wasn't following completely but hoped to understand more if he allowed Pasorlid to continue.

'The planet's average surface temperature is fifteen degrees but it should be minus eighteen and that is because of this effect. Water vapour and clouds absorb infrared in the atmosphere. Even if the other greenhouse gases disappeared, we would nevertheless be left with most of the greenhouse effect. It is assumed that increases in carbon dioxide lead to great increases in temperature and that those increases will continue as it has before. I'm sure you know how the greenhouse mechanism works…'

'Heat is transported by radiation, convection and by conduction…'

'That only refers to radiative transfer. As it turns out, if there were only radiative heat transfer, the greenhouse effect would warm the planet to about seventy-seven degrees rather than to fifteen!'

Pasorlid laughed to himself and Doctor smiled. 'In fact, the greenhouse effect is only 25 percent of what it would be in a pure radiative situation. The reason for this is the presence of convection - heat transported by air - which bypasses much of the radiative absorption.'

'So how is the planet cooled then? By air, I would think.'

'Yes, that includes clouds carrying heat up. Greenhouse gases above the surface determine temperature - particularly essential for water vapour. The point is that you can't calculate the planet temperature without Computed Scenario Predictors that accurately reproduce the motions of the atmosphere. I mean, some of them have error bands of over 50 percent!'

'So you are saying that it is impossible to properly calculate either the average temperature or the difference in temperature from the poles to the equator.'

'The Computed Scenario Predictors are altered slightly to get those quantities about right.'

'Okay, but just as an example, what would the doubling of carbon dioxide do?'

'Warming of up to one and a half degrees, which would present hardly any problems, though even that prediction is uncertain because of the complicated way the greenhouse effect works - it's impossible for all other factors to remain the same. In present Computed Scenario Predictors, other factors amplify the effects of increasing carbon dioxide and therefore predict seven degrees more. When there is warming within a climate system, the subsequent changes that amplify the warming are known as Positive Feedbacks. The opposite is called Negative Feedbacks. The most significant Positive Feedback in the latest Computed Scenario Predictors is caused by water vapour. In all Computed Scenario Predictors, it is water vapour in the upper troposphere…'

'How high up is that?' asked the Doctor.

'Not so high,' replied Pasorlid. 'Water vapour, the major greenhouse gas, increases as surface temperature increases. Without feedback, no current Computed Scenario Predictor would predict warming in excess of 1.5 degrees - regardless of any other factors. The way Computed Scenario Predictors handle clouds and water vapour is arbitrary.'

'But is it possible for anyone to completely comprehend the science behind them?'

'Well there's that but… There's evidence for all the known feedback factors to actually be Negative. For that reason you'd expect the warming response to carbon dioxide doubling to diminish.'

'So you're saying that the Computed Scenario Predictors can only forecast so much?'

'They depend on Positive Feedback factors, which haven't been proven, to predict high levels of warming. Predicting cloud cover is hard, and clouds reflect more than most people think. Doubling carbon dioxide would change surface heat flux so you can see that a small change in cloud cover greatly affects the response to carbon dioxide. Also high altitude clouds may supplement the greenhouse effect. The effect of clouds reflecting light yet enhancing the greenhouse effect is balanced. The effect on climate depends on the response of clouds to warming and a possible imbalance of their cooling and heating effects.'

'What about snow? I've heard something about that...'

'Warmer climates are covered in less snow, so they reflect less back into space and this amplifies the warming. Snow is associated with winter and not much sunlight. Clouds shield the planet from the sun which reduces the response to snow cover. So you have clouds and less snow making the feedback factor Negative…'

Before Pasorlid could continue, the Doctor asked another question. 'Why do the Computed Scenario Predictors decide that more CO2 leads to planetary warming then?'

'The effect of water vapour feedback. Computed Scenario Predictors say that warmer climates result in increasing humidity, even though the Computed Scenario Predictors don't have the numerical accuracy to process data about water vapour! The physics of how clouds moisturize the atmosphere mean that what is supposed to be the largest Positive Feedback is, on the contrary, Negative, indeed it's a very large Negative factor.'

The Doctor was about to ask another question but Pasorlid held up a luminous hand to stop him. 'Records for average planetary temperature are irregular; they show an average increase of one degree with most of the increase having already taken place a long time ago. The Computed Scenario Predictors that predict a five degree warming due to carbon dioxide doubling might have seen a warming of three degrees centigrade already. If we include the delay imposed by the oceanic heat capacity, we might expect a warming of about one or two degrees, which is still much more than what has been observed. So they've got it wrong already. It's certain then that most of that warming occurred before the bulk of the minor greenhouse gases were added to the atmosphere.'

'You mean these Predictors exaggerate the response to carbon dioxide?'

'Predictions for what should have happened in the past incorrectly describe a pattern of warming and overestimate its effect. The past record is consistent with a response to a doubling of about 1.3 degrees - assuming that all the warming was due to increasing carbon dioxide.'

'Is there anything from the records that shows artificial changes in the climate?'

'No, there isn't. Look at the tropics and the conclusion is even more disturbing. There is plenty to show that the average equatorial sea surface has remained within plus or minus one degree of its present temperature for billions and billions of orbits, yet the Computed Scenarios predict average warming of four degrees - even at the equator! And you know, for much of the planet's history, there has been much more carbon dioxide in the atmosphere than even the last few orbits.'

'But industrial outputs could lead to planetary warming.'

'If you had used the Predictors in the past to ask what the planet would be like now, you would have totally wrong. This is why climatologists are suspicious – because we understand that studying weather and climate is not an exact science. Not so long ago, the prediction was Planetary Cooling – an Ice Age – and all the frenzy by many of those who are now prominent in support of the Warming theory.

The Doctor looked at his notes. 'There was a Freeze-Up, publication?'

'It put down detractors and said that we had to act hastily to prevent an ice-age even though there was no scientific foundation to the argument. The scientific community never went on about it so neither did governments and, as temperatures rose, the issue died.'

'Yes,' the Doctor grinned, 'that's happened all over the universe. It reminds me of a Tsunami, where the tide goes right out as a prelude to what comes next.'

'It began with a summer heat wave in the north. The temperature increase was too sudden to be associated with a smooth increase in carbon dioxide, yet extraordinarily it was said that the high temperature was about planetary warming!'

'So you think that although there's planetary warming, it has other causes.'

'The interpretations were worthless but all of a sudden adopted and environmental politics boomed. Lobby groups have gigantic budgets and employ hundreds of thousands of people - self-perpetuation is their main concern. Planetary Warming is fundamental for fundraising while the media unthinkingly accept what these environmental groups say is objective truth. Why?! The media make out that "all scientists" agree Warming is real and potentially cataclysmic. It's not what scientists think that is important; it's what climatologists think. It annoys me that Planetary Warming environmentalists claim that sceptics like me receive too much coverage!'

'But doesn't your view represent the minority?'

'I accept that but I sent a critique of Planetary Warming for publication, and it was rejected because it was, "uninteresting". Finally, it was attacked in NewsDataFeeds before it had even been published!'

The Doctor felt that Pasorlid was missing the point. It was Pasorlid's theories that were at the margins; Pasorlid's theories were not representative. The man was in denial.

'You know that a vast majority of scientists doubt that there has been any identifiable artificially-caused warming to date?' said Pasorlid

'Well, I don't think that's true. I'd say the sceptics are in the minority…' said the Doctor.

'There was a poll: 45 percent said no, 36 percent don't know, 19 percent, yes.'

The Doctor though for a moment. 'That's only half saying no… but many of those will be Don't Knows because it's so inexact.'

'Okay, but of those who are actively involved in research and publish in peer-reviewed research journals, none of them believe that artificially-caused planetary warming has been identified so far.'

'I think you can make statistics say anything,' the Doctor said.

'But that's what they are doing. They're polling scientists not climatologists. It's outside the world of meteorology where they attack critics of Warming.'

'Yes, but as any meteorologist would say, the problem isn't just about the climate – there are many non-weather factors involved.'

'They don't really understand the subject,' claimed Pasorlid.

'But you've just said yourself that even climatologists don't fully…'

'Fine, but to say with authority that Planetary Warming is the greatest danger to our planet… The people they quote have no participation in climatology. All these NewsDataFeeds harden the perception that "all scientists" agree with the catastrophe picture: fighting Planetary Warming is a dogma and scientists are not invulnerable.'

'But that's politics as well.'

'Yes, but the political pressures are all one way - against dissidents. Why is there insistence on unanimity on the warming issue? Unanimity in science is nigh on absent on less complex matters. Unanimity on an issue as uncertain as Planetary Warming would be surprising and suspicious. Why are scientist's opinions sought, regardless of their expertise? Biologists and Chemists are rarely asked to endorse Physics theory but when it comes to Planetary Warming, any old scientist's concurrence will do.'

'So you think I should speak to more Climatologists?'

'Yes, I do. You would do well to start with my daughter. She'll tell you. She knows.'

'I will. Thank you,' said the Doctor.

Pasorlid looked up, more alert now than he'd been throughout the entire conversation. 'Say hello for me and tell her to come and visit.' A sparkling tear rolled down a translucent face.

'I will,' said the Doctor, turning away, 'I will.'

Chapter 30

On Sirosan-2, Ace had been participating ever more in the environmental side of the group's activities and discussions. She didn't know much about politics, especially some of the more extreme sounding ideas this group came out with – though it was an entirely different planet after all - but she did feel that she had a contribution to make, in that the Earth had also been through similar scenarios.

In some ways she reckoned that she'd left Earth just in time, despite all of this internet, mobile, DVD, mp3 stuff the Doctor said had begun almost as soon as she had left. The idea of long hot British summers aroused her curiosity and she'd tried to work out how old she'd have been when all of this became the norm - if that's what happened at all. Not long, she calculated. Not long.

The pattern of global warming caused by pollution on Sirosan was remarkably similar to that described by the Doctor on Earth. At first she hadn't wanted to hear about it and the Doctor agreed that it was perhaps best she didn't know about her planet's immediate future as there was still a chance she might return around the turn of the century depending on circumstance. She quite fancied going to the Millennium celebrations in the year 2000. However, occasionally the Doctor would hint at some fate or other and she'd be drawn into questions. She didn't like to ask directly but some things had become apparent: the Earth had suffered global warming caused partly by human activity, there had been some terrible wars, governments continued to be largely unstable and unaccountable, law and order had broken down and there was suffering on a large scale – no change there then but, yes, despite the bouts of homesickness she was glad to have left.

Eventually, the Doctor seemed to imply that the human race got itself sorted out and lived in relative harmony apart from the day a rock the size of Wembley Stadium fell into one of the oceans and caused a few decades of flooding and global dimming. She wasn't sure when this was or whether she would, in the normal course of events, have been able to be around to see it.

According to the Leaderless Collective, Planetary Warming had affected trees. Firstly, the warmer temperatures meant that insect populations spread much more quickly and millions of trees were destroyed by insects alone. The increased death-rate of some trees led to more frequent forest fires, caused by dry timber and brush being easily ignited by lightning bolts. With wildfires came flooding and mudslides.

As with the earth, rising seas inundated small islands which had to be abandoned due to floods caused by increasing storm activity. There had been constant erosion of beaches and coasts in general. There were more hurricanes, which became more and more difficult to predict. Rising seas, engulfed homes and crops. Storm surges washed directly across entire islands. Among the islands, rising seas seeped into some island croplands, making it too salty to grow vegetables. Farmers had to grow crops in containers filled with compost.

Ice began melting all over the planet. The melting of glaciers began accelerating until not one remained. There was a dramatic decline in water levels of glacier-fed rivers that had been fed by ice in the high mountains. River flow dwindled then stopped in the dry season. Polar glaciers moved more rapidly to the sea, caused by melt-water lubricating the base of the glaciers.

Polar sea ice shrunk to a fraction of its previous size. Average Polar sea ice thickness halved over just 30 summers and local temperatures increased on average by 5%. Sea ice disintegration began.

Ice melted to create billions of tons of water every summer from the ice sheets leading to coastal flooding around the planet. The rising sea level also led to salt water encroachment producing 'Ghost forests'.

Warm ocean water killed many species at the bottom of the food chain, which in turn dwindled the surrounding waters of oxygen, thus harming nearby ocean life.

Atmospheric levels of carbon dioxide, rose from 280 parts per million to 380 in a single generation. Carbon dioxide concentrations in the atmosphere were the high as were levels of methane, which rose 150%.

Temperatures climbed and a thousand or so people died during a heat wave one summer, then 35,000 died in the next! High temperatures became more extreme, and because night temperatures increased by at least as much as daytime temperatures, heat waves became more serious. Soon it became common for people to die in heat waves so it passed without mention.

Increased greenhouse gases caused heating that enhanced the hydrological cycle and leading to stronger, longer-lasting and more intense droughts, as well as heavier rainfall and flooding - intense drought one minute, then extensive flooding; extreme floods in winters but droughts in other years.

There was increased precipitation, mostly heavy rainstorms but little increase in moderate, beneficial rainstorms. There was a 25% increase in blizzards and heavy rainstorms became more frequent. During the winter unusually warm weather caused early snowmelts that resulted in record flooding forcing millions to leave their homes.

There was damage from weather-related natural disasters like storms, floods, droughts and fires. New outbreaks of fever happened at higher latitudes and altitudes. Climate-related disease more than doubled. Flooding due to coastal storm surges affected the lives of up to 200 million. Heat related deaths more than doubled. Hazardous ozone pollution increased 65 percent. There were more outbreaks of fever in the tropics

160,000 people were dying every year from the effects of Planetary Warming, from disease to malnutrition. Climate change did bring some health benefits, such as lower cold-related mortality and greater crop yields in temperate zones, but these were outweighed by increased rates of other diseases. Small shifts in temperatures extended the range of insects spreading disease. Water supplies were contaminated by floods, which also washed away the crops.

Being an advanced civilization, starvation had long been eradicated. It had never been an issue on the planet because there had never been food shortages in that feeding everyone was considered a fundamental priority – everyone was guaranteed minimum nutritional intakes and there was an abundance of housing and other social provisions – but this commitment came under pressure.

When the Planetary Government took over from regional governors its founding statement read: 'One of the most vital responsibilities our representatives in public office have is to protect our children, grand-children and future generations from the damage to the environment they will inherit. If candidates for public office do not perform for the environment, vote against their candidacy. Vote for those who care about this planet. View their environmental voting record.'

The Owner took note of all of this and successfully disguised his own Planetary Warming contributions through outsourcing and hiding his ownership of many polluting firms.

Back on Sirosan the attempted emigration of Gramelwit, Linlay and others to Sirosan-2, as well as the deaths of Higo and Dorikev in orbit had deprived the Leaderless Collective of some of its most experienced founding members. Failure to get the documentary broadcast brought about by their misplaced illusions in Montented's media had further divided and weakened the group. Demoralised after a series of setbacks and pessimistic at the possibility of success, some felt it was time that everyone went their own separate ways.

Ace herself, although initially impressed by what she'd seen, believed that there was no way the group would break out of its inertia. She'd not really joined it as such but as Komodos had put it she had nevertheless 'become part' through her presence, knowledge and her enthusiasm. Ace didn't consider herself an 'anarchist' like they did but then she didn't really understand what they meant by anarchism in the first place. It seemed just a convenient term used to explain what they were not. In fact, the Leaderless Collective was just that: a Collective without leaders. Ningbooton, who had left in disgust at the Montented initiative, had ended by referring to it as the Rudderless Collective.

Komodos and Wonloo helped Ace contact the Doctor on Sirosan-2 and in an emotional communication she told him what had happened – that it would have been too unsafe to return so she had stayed underground with the Collective and that she had not been kidnapped at all. The Collective arranged for Ace to be taken to a spot by Komodos and Wonloo and collected by one of Spessogack's agents on the ground.

OK, then Ace. We're recording. Smile for the cameras. Ready?

Ready.

So where are you from?

I'm from a planet called Earth.

As in land, ground. Is that right?

Yes… that's more or less it.

What's it like?

It's a very beautiful planet, full or water and vegetation… There are ice caps at each pole and some deserts and forests.

We have a lot of deserts here; you may have realized. But it wasn't always like this: there were lots of forests from way back and where we are standing now used to be covered with ice – it was really, really cold!

It's still like that on earth.

Lucky you. So why did you leave?

Oh, I didn't choose to leave as such but… I mean it's a big universe. It's not as if I lived in the best bits on earth – not the worst parts either – but… you know, I got the chance to travel.

It sounds lovely.

So, I heard what happened to your planet and I'm told that my planet could go the same way. But tell me, why are you still here?

Why? Well, it's a lot of things really. I've always lived here and I suppose I'm reluctant to admit what has happened – planetary warming and that - and I don't see why we should move to a private moon. That's been the biggest change.

I didn't think the moon was so bad, though I wasn't there for long.

They say it's beautiful – I've never been – but I just object to the fact that it belongs to one person.

It's not really as if they are owned.

As well as…

But it's a bit of a red herring really because a lot of the places on this planet are owned – or used to be.

I prefer it here – there are no police and if you keep your head down, you can stay out of trouble.

So what's the goal of this Leaderless Collective then?

For me, we're saying that there's another way to do things. We need to develop the collective, try and become self sufficient and all that. We can inspire other people.

For me… I don't know, I just got involved because it's better than nothing. It's not perfect but it shows that another world is possible.

If you ask me, this Planetary Warming thing, it's like those scientists said before they were censored…

… Killed off!

… Yes, that's right. I think that this is just part of a cycle and the planet will balance itself out.

It's alive – the planet is alive and has a spirit.

That's rubbish! I don't agree with that!

Nature is everywhere.

Yes, but it isn't conscious.

Oh, here we go!

No, I think that there aren't a lot of grounds for optimism. I think we're going to have to go up to the moons ourselves eventually – or die.

I'd go. I think you've got to look after yourself if everything else fails – I've got a family – there used to be a lot more people in this Collective but people have either drifted away or left.

So how do you live?

What do you mean?

I mean, food – who pays for that?

No, we don't pay for food. People have never paid for food here – not in my lifetime. I'm sure one day that The Owner will convince people to pay for food.

Oh, that's weird but yes, that's excellent. And fuel and health and things?

All free – well, there's not a lot of healthcare.

But where do you find the food and fuel?

It's at the depots. People would go mad if it weren't there.

So do you work?

Yes, we all work. Well, some of us have retired but I do stuff for the gangs and some of us are employed by the authorities…

But aren't you against the authorities?

Yes, but that doesn't mean you don't go to work.

And what do you do if the boss asks you to do something you don't like.

We threaten to go on strike.

So workers are powerful here then.

Well, we used to be before the planet started dying.

I don't understand. I thought there was no government here.

No, there's a government but the services and things don't work. We don't really have very much to do at work. So the government may as well not be here.

Hmm, it's certainly different.

What about you Ace – do you work?

I travel with the Doctor and try to be helpful, learn and so on.

Are you a nurse?

He's not that kind of Doctor.

You don't want to stay here then?

I like it here.

How can you?

There's a lot to do.

It's still dangerous unless you know what you're doing.

I can imagine but no, I think I'd like to move on. What about the Leaderless Collective?

There's just us and nothing's happening.

We're just reduced to producing propaganda – recording things, writing, talking, that sort of thing.

You're against violence?

Absolutely.

Well, I'm not actually. I think you have to be prepared to defend yourself in certain circumstances.

Yes, but that's not violence is it?

I don't know. What's violence?

Violence can be anything. What they've done to the planet is a form of violence.

That's why I'm against it.

I think this is the key weakness of the collective – that we're all over the place politically and morally.

What have morals got to do with it?

Well, you've proved my point?

How exactly?

I just think that we have to be more united in order to act together.

You can't force people to agree.

Exactly, so we should just do the honest thing and give up!

I think if we behave like the gangs do, that's the end.

No-one's saying we should be like the gangs.

Chapter 31

A door announced that there was an anonymous presence standing just outside of Idiacoz's quarters. Startled, she hesitated before opening then clicked her fingers for a monitor to come on. The figure behind the door was certainly not from Sirosan-2; his dress was more Sirosan style - individual and eccentric. She stood staring at the image. What to do?

Well, at least it wasn't the military – the man on the screen was not in uniform and he seemed to be on his own and unarmed. Maybe it's Farockaway in disguise.

'Yes?' She spoke through a microphone.

'Hello there. My name is the Doctor. I was sent here by your father.'

Idiacoz moved immediately to her personal communicator and called Bersgaard.

'Hello?' said the Doctor.

Idiacoz did not reply.

'Yes?' said Bersgaard.

'Hello, it's me, Idiacoz'

'To what do I owe…?'

'Fine, I haven't got time for sarcasm. Listen to me, will you? There's a strange man at my door.'

'Yes?'

'Well, do you think I should I call the police?'

'Is it Farockaway?'

'No. Yes. I mean, it could be, why?'

'Then call the police. There's no point calling me, is there?'

'It's just that he's dressed strangely and said my father had sent him.'

'Call the police then. Don't tell me about it. I'm not the one who needs to know. Hurry up! Do it!'

'What if it is Farockaway?'

Bersgaard spoke sharply. 'Look, I'm ending this communication. Call the police. NOW!'

The communication went dead. Idiacoz looked back up at the monitor. The Doctor was waving at her and peering into the camera. How does he know where the spy-cameras are located?

Idiacoz held the communication device and started to speak but as she did so, the Doctor shrugged his shoulders, turned on his heel and walked away.

Idiacoz quickly connected to the other cameras surrounding where she lived and breathed a sigh of relief to find that the strange visitor was indeed leaving.

Having failed to speak to Idiacoz, the Doctor returned to his own quarters pondering over what to do next. He told Spessogack about his conversation with Pasorlid.

'The simulators can be very convincing, can't they?' said Spessogack.

'Very, yes. I was impressed.'

'He never gives up, even in death.'

'His theories, you mean?'

'Wild speculation, I'd call it.'

The Doctor shook his head. 'No, I think that his theories have been well thought out – there is a logic behind them. It's an opinion after all.'

'Well, it's too late now, I suppose. He can't change anything. Look what happened!'

'He said that I should go and see his daughter.'

'And?'

'And so I did.'

'And did you find anything out?'

'No.'

'Oh, but she was there all right. I've checked. She was watching you on the monitors.'

'I see. So you know all about my movements and conversations already?'

'She's up to no good, that woman, I can tell.'

'Really? So if you know that I went to see her, why this big pretence of not knowing anything about it.'

'Force of habit, Doctor; force of habit.'

'You don't trust me.'

'Only as much as you trust me, Doctor'

'Touché'

'As I've told you, Idiacoz is a close collaborator of Farockaway, the scientist who worked down on Sirosan with The Owner. I think we'll need to haul her in for questioning. I suppose I'll have to speak to Pigmal...'

Within a short time, Pigmal had joined them.

'I was explaining to the Doctor about Idiacoz…' began Spessogack.

Eager to impress, Pigmal began to give details. 'She works with Farockaway who…'

Spessogack interrupted. 'Yes, we know all that. I've already briefed the Doctor.'

'I see,' said Pigmal, deflated.

'We need to bring her in. I mean that you need to bring her in. You personally. She knows something, I'm sure. Farockaway tells her everything and now she's acting suspiciously.'

'Apart from not answering the door to a stranger, what makes you say that?' asked the Doctor.

'They know because they register everything,' said Pigmal, adding that, 'All private conversations are monitored.'

Spessogack squirmed uncomfortably. It wasn't something he wanted publicising. Pigmal sensed his error and now it was his turn to squirm awkwardly.

'Do you have enough people with time to listen?' the Doctor asked.

Spessogack shook his head. 'No, no, Doctor. Surveillance doesn't work like that. We don't listen to many conversations in real time – we listen to them afterwards based on who the participants are. If Suspect A speaks to a particular person, maybe Suspect B or C or F or Z, or there are key words and so on, based on things that have happened… In the case of Idiacoz, because Farockaway is so close to The Owner, we've been through her records.'

'But surely if you are so clever at monitoring conversations you must know what has happened to The Owner.'

'We don't control what happens below,' said Spessogack pointing to his shoes.

'I'll make her talk,' said Pigmal.

Spessogack held up a hand. 'A moment, please. We can't just go charging in there and accuse her of kidnap. Let's bring her in slowly and see whether she is willing to help us. Give her a chance rather than adding to her suspicions.'

'Why kidnap?' asked the Doctor.

'It's a line of enquiry,' replied Pigmal. 'We can't rule it out. There's the possibility that The Owner has been kidnapped though in reality no-one would dare attempt it. The gangs don't want too many military types around.'

'The Leaderless?'

'Ace is one thing – and that turned out not to be kidnap anyway; getting The Owner is another. I don't think they're up to that at all. That's not them. No, I think we need to speak with her without letting slip she's a suspect. We can't just accuse her of something, not yet.'

'Can't we?' Pigmal asked.

'We can,' replied Spessogack, tired to have to explain himself, 'but we shouldn't. Personally, I think she knows nothing about The Owner going missing and she cares even less. She's spooked because of something to do with Farockaway and to my mind if we find Farockaway we may be closer to knowing something.'

'You can't just bring in Farockaway?' asked the Doctor.

Spessogack looked harshly in his direction.

'Ah, yes,' said the Time Lord, 'You've lost him too, I gather…'

'Right then,' said Spessogack to Pigmal. 'Call Idiacoz and say that there's been an incident involving an escaped alien and someone has reported that the alien was hanging around Idiacoz's quarters. The alien has been recaptured and you need her to come in and identify this alien.'

'I'll get someone on it.'

'NO!' yelled Spessogack for the first time since the Doctor had met him. 'YOU HANDLE IT PERSONALLY! YOU DO IT PROPERLY!' He then waved Pigmal away.

The policeman stood, humiliated. He wanted to tell Spessogack that he didn't take orders from him, but he knew that for now he would have to do just that. The moon would soon be heading towards a state of emergency and he didn't want to ruffle feathers too soon. Later he reported back to Spessogack that Idiacoz had made an appointment with him to come and identify the alien.

Idiacoz sat in a grey chamber. She heard footsteps and the door opened. Spessogack walked up to her and shook her hand warmly.

'My dear, Idiacoz. It's a pleasure to meet you.'

She returned his smile. 'I'm sorry, have we met before?'

'Oh, it was when you were a child. I knew your father when we were all much younger. So sad what happened to him.'

'Right,' she answered.

The Doctor and Pigmal watched on a monitor in an adjacent room.

'Please look at these images – we have a three dimensional version to show you.'

He clicked his fingers and lifelike images of the Doctor appeared before them.

'Was that who you saw?'

She nodded enthusiastically. 'Yes,' she replied.

'Do you know this man?'

'No.'

'Anything at all about him? Did you speak to him?'

'No, I thought he looked strange. I didn't want to answer.'

'OK, thanks. I will be back in a moment.'

Spessogack rose and, after making Idiacoz wait a little longer, Spessogack returned with Pigmal. 'My colleague has a few questions for you,' he said.

Pigmal introduced himself formerly and coldly. Spessogack wasn't sure whether this was an act or perhaps the side of Pigmal that Spessogack had suspected lurked below the surface. 'I want you to tell me about the work you do with Farockaway.'

Idiacoz didn't expect this line of questioning. She was there to identify an alien seen trying to gain access to her quarters. 'It's the SkyLights...'

'NO!' Pigmal slammed his hand down. 'The work you really do with Farockaway. Experiments and that kind of stuff.'

'On what?'

'You tell me.'

'Ok, right. Well, em… Where do I start?'

'When was the last time you saw Farockaway?'

'Um…'

'When was the last time you had words?'

'Why?'

'We need to speak with him.'

'About aliens? It's simple. Call him. He's down on the planet in his labs.'

Spessogack stood up and walked from the room.

Pigmal stared at Idiacoz in a disturbing fashion.

'Why don't you call him?' said Pigmal.

'I can't.'

'Can't?' he glared at her menacingly, as if about to unleash violence. He swallowed and completed his sentence, 'Or won't?'

'I can't – he doesn't like to be disturbed.'

Pigmal look at his shoes then back across the table at Idiacoz. He looked on the floor once more before making a fist and slamming it across the table and connecting with Idiacoz's left cheek. She fell backwards onto the floor.

The Doctor was horrified. He shouted at Spessogack. 'HE CAN'T DO THAT!'

Spessogack remained impassive.

Back in the interrogation room, Pigmal stood over Idiacoz; blood was coming from her lower lip.

'Fucking stand up!'

Idiacoz was terrified and began to back into a corner.

Pigmal handed her something to wipe her mouth on. 'Clean yourself up. Or do you want another?'

The Doctor left Spessogack's side and headed towards the chamber. Two guards stood in his way. The Doctor turned and angrily addressed Spessogack. 'STOP HIM! STOP THIS NOW!'

'Let him do his work,' said Spessogack with quiet determination.

'That's not work, that's violence.'

On the monitor there was more shouting from Pigmal: 'Shut it! If you don't start being more helpful, I'll get the boys in to give you some more. Now take this and get rid of that blood.'

Idiacoz sat up slowly still on the floor.

'Where is Farockaway?' said Pigmal impatiently. 'Where the fuck is he? How is he going to protect you now?'

The Doctor looked at Spessogack almost pleading.

'All right,' said the spy and he went back towards the chamber and opened the door. 'Any luck?' he asked.

Pigmal answered that Idiacoz was about to reveal all. He stood up and walked out.

'YOU SAVAGE!' shouted the Doctor lunging towards Pigmal. 'You animal,' he yelled as two guards restrained him.'

Pigmal winked. 'I'm good at what I do,' he smiled

'YOU CALL THAT GOOD?'

'It gets results. Just listen to her now. Let her stew a bit and you'll see, after that we won't be able to shut her up!'

Spessogack left the chamber and addressed Pigmal, 'Leave it to us now. You can go.'

Pigmal wiped his brow. 'As you wish,' he laughed and walked through a door.

The Doctor went back to the monitor with Spessogack. Idiacoz remained seated on the floor, wiping the blood from her mouth.

'It'll be your turn soon Doctor,' said Spessogack.

'My turn for what? A beating too?'

'I mean, it will be your turn to talk to her.'

'You think I'm going to participate in torture?'

'No, do it your own way. She's softened up now. She'll tell you all.'

'I want nothing to do with this bar...'

'It's either you or Pigmal. One way or the other, she'll give us what we want.'

On the monitor a guard could be seen bringing a tray with something to eat on it. As the guard left, Spessogack stood up, left the Doctor and entered the chamber.

'Well?' said Spessogack.

'I was trying to contact Farockaway but there hasn't been an answer for some time now. I'm worried that he's had an accident.'

'It's a possibility, yes.'

'But why?'

'Leave it to us - we'll find out.'

'I see,' she said, although she didn't.

'Look, I'm sorry about my colleague. Police. He's losing it.'

'My face hurts.'

'Listen, there's someone we'd like you to speak to.'

'Anyone but that man again.'

'Don't worry. This is the man who came to your quarters earlier today. The one whose image you identified earlier. You're right – he's an alien but he's one of our aliens. You have nothing to fear.'

Spessogack clicked his fingers at the camera and waved to summon the Doctor in. The Doctor entered the room furtively and sat down by the door. He was at a loss what to do.

'I'll leave you two alone, now,' said Spessogack.

'No,' said Idiacoz. 'What does he want?'

'I think that would be better,' said the Doctor.

'Aren't you going to protect me?' she said to Spessogack.

Spessogack ignored her and left. Idiacoz looked scared.

'Are you all right?' the Doctor said remaining seated.

Idiacoz wiped her mouth. 'What does it look like?'

'Can I get you anything?'

'You can get me out of here.'

'Okay, I'll see what I can do?'

'Why have you done this to me? To punish my father?'

The Doctor shook his head. 'I saw your father in the simulator.'

'You did?'

'Yes.'

'What for?'

'I'll tell you later but he told me to come and find you?'

'But why would he speak to you?'

'I have to do some research and you father said that you were a climatologist – that you could explain about the environmental crisis down on the planet.'

'What's this about? Who are you? Where are you from? What do you want? Why was I hit?'

The Doctor stood but Idiacoz cowered so he sat down again so as not to appear threatening to her.

'I need help,' he said finally. 'I need to know about a few things. I have to find someone on Sirosan and we… well, they… think you know something.'

'Know what? I don't know anything.'

'I need to know where Farockaway is.'

'I don't know where Farockaway is.'

'Do you know where he might be?'

'He might be anywhere. He might be on a moon or he might be on the planet. How should I know?'

'Just a moment. Let me do something for that pain.'

'Like what she asked?'

The Doctor stood up again and walked slowly over to Idiacoz with an arm outstretched. He held for Idiacoz to take. 'I'm sorry. I saw what that thug did to you.'

Idiacoz ignored the hand and stood up, pushing herself into the corner of the chamber. The Doctor went and sat down on the other side of the interrogation table beckoning Idiacoz to sit opposite him.

'Sit down,' he said, more assertively, 'and I'll fix the pain.'

'It's going now,' she replied as she sat. 'It was…

Before Idiacoz could complete the sentence, the Doctor had placed his hands on her head.

'What are you doing?' she asked.

'Let me into your mind,' he said.

'Get off,' said Idiacoz unconvincingly because the Doctor's touch actual felt quite good. 'You shouldn't be doing this,' she said but if anything she was relieved.

Idiacoz suspected that the Doctor was a tool of the security services or police or even a gang and that they were hunting Idiacoz on behalf of The Owner. Thousands of thoughts ran through her mind but when the Doctor had finished, she felt more relieved, more relaxed.

'Better?' he asked.

'Yes,' said replied, smiling and nodding.

The Doctor now knew Idiacoz's secret, that she didn't know where Farockaway was at all, only that he was running scared of what might have happened to him

Leaving the room, he noticed that Pigmal had returned but spoke only to Spessogack. 'I've got an idea. I'm going to take her down to the planet with me and she'll lead me to Farockaway.'

'Are you sure?' said Spessogack.

'No,' replied the Doctor.

'Is that the best we can get out of her?' asked Pigmal, sarcasm dripping from his lips.

'Yes.'

'Give me another go,' Pigmal urged Spessogack. 'You heard them in there. We don't know anything we didn't know before. Let me have a go.'

'No,' said Spessogack. 'That's enough – at least for now.'

'Suit yourself,' said Pigmal walking away.

'I apologise,' said Spessogack to the Doctor.

'It's not me you should be apologising to – it's her, in there.'

'But I didn't do that,' Spessogack said.

'You stood by and let it happen though, didn't you?'

'So did you.'

'I had no choice. You could have stopped it.'

'Look, we got a result. I might not like or approve of Pigmal and his like but he got a result. That's my job too – to get results. What are we supposed to do? The woman's a liar. She's a criminal. She's probably involved in a conspiracy to get rid of The Owner. She's a suspect in a serious case.'

'What offence has she committed?' asked the Doctor.

'She's a suspect.'

'I'll tell you something. I don't see much difference between you and Pigmal at all. I think you are as bad as each other, despite the way you affect some sort of smooth, intellectual persona. I think you both are two sides of the same savage coin.'

The Doctor and Idiacoz left Sirosan-2, not in the best of moods.

Number One: A heat advisory will be issued in early summer when the heat index reaches Level 5 or greater after Sunrise One.

He'd have preferred to take the TARDIS but after a long and intense argument it was clear that there was no way Spessogack was going to allow that to happen.

Number Two: There will be NewsDataFeeds on coping with heat, high-risk groups and acclimation to the heat. Monitoring of Medical Centres, for heat-related illnesses and deaths will intensify.

For the whole flight three messages repeated themselves over and over again, not particularly loudly but as an annoying murmur in the background. Enough to interrupt even a Time Lord's thoughts.

Number Three: A heat emergency will be declared by the Health Director if the heat index peaks above Level 4 for three consecutive days, peaks above Level 5 for one day, or if the temperature does not drop below Level 2 for one night.

Soon after take-off, Spessogack called the Doctor, who replied bad-temperedly. 'What now? You've just accompanied me to the Shuttle. Are you worried I might escape through the rubbish chute?'

Number Four: The Health Department will intensify monitoring of temperatures, hospital emergency departments, medical centres, and a special Action Centre for heat-related indicators.

'Actually, I thought you might like to know some more detail about where you're staying.'

Number Five: City departments and community agencies participating in heat response will be contacted and put on stand-by alert.

'We're a tour guide as well, are we?'

Number Six: Agencies will identify neighbourhood buildings and facilities with air conditioning in high-risk neighbourhoods and they will be opened without pause for cool shelters...

The Doctor's sarcasm went over the head of Spessogack, who began, 'Sirosan is heavily polluted and has a rather unpredictable climate.'

The Doctor had spent longer than he'd have liked to with Pasorlid on this subject, as well as quite some time going through various objections, counter-theories and notes. He simply switched off and let Spessogack speak to himself in the same way that the flight announcement had just buzzed away without interest in whether anyone was listening or not.

Number Seven: Emergency Management will open the Emergency Operations Centre, and city departments and community agencies are contacted for staffing

'The planet has suffered severe planetary warming, there's hardly any ozone layer to speak of, it's full of disease, hardly any food grows there any more – it must be imported – and law and order on the planet varies depending on where you go.'

Number Eight: State Emergency Management Agency will be notified. City Communications will be notified and specific information concerning the City's heat response is compiled and released to the media. The public will be urged to stay out of the heat, in air-conditioned surroundings, and in cool water as much as possible.

'So how am I supposed to move around freely without getting mugged?'

Number Nine: A heat alert will be issued when the heat index reaches or is forecast to reach 105 degrees or greater by 11:00 a.m.

'Mugged?'

Number Ten: The public will be advised to avoid strenuous activity during the hottest parts of the day, to minimize time in the sun, spend time in air-conditioned environments, and to check on the elderly and high-risk people regularly.

The Doctor sighed, 'Attacked, killed, shot at!' He then said, 'Kidnapped even,' just to annoy Spessogack, which it didn't.

Number Eleven: Agencies will be requested to provide fans (and air conditioners to high-risk groups) and to open shelters.

'Nothing will happen to you, Doctor; you'll be accompanied wherever you go.'

Number Twelve: Emergency preparedness will notify the State Emergency Management Agency and the Health Department will notify the local Department of Health.

'I could do without that, really.'

Number Thirteen: A heat alert will be cancelled after two days of lower heat indices.

'It's for your own safety, Doctor.'

Number Fourteen: The City will respond to weather reports from the Weather Service, which will be utilizing the following terminology: Heat Watch and Heat Warning.

'It didn't do much for Ace, did it? You're just frightened I'll do a runner.'

Number Fifteen: The City Forecast Office of the Weather Service declares a Heat Watch when weather conditions consistent with a Heat Warning are anticipated.

'Frightened no. It's not me who has anything to fear.'

Number Sixteen: The Combustion Commissioner coordinates Heat Watch operations.

'And if I don't find this Owner? That'll give you something to fret about, won't it?'

Number Seventeen: All city departments are notified, designated their duties, given heat tips for posting and distributing.

'I have no fear, Doctor. You'll find him, I believe in you, Time Lord'

Number Eighteen: Announcements of cooling centre locations are made. Special care is taken to help elder persons, disabled persons and others at-risk

'And bring him back, of course,' added the Doctor.

Number Nineteen: The City Forecast Office of the Weather Service declares a Heat Warning when present or imminent weather conditions threaten the health and well-being of citizens, particularly elder persons, the very young and people who are limited by disabling conditions.

The Doctor suddenly asked, 'Where can I find a map?'

Number Twenty: During a Heat Warning, the City activates the designated emergency response plan and the Fire Commissioner assumes leadership of the emergency response.

'I'm sure you'll manage Doctor.'

'Yes, but I don't want to have to waste time finding a map.'

Number Twenty-One: Again all city departments are notified, designated their duties whilst Cooling Centres are opened on a 24-hour basis.

'I'll see one is provided.'

'I'd be grateful. Anything else?'

Number One: A heat advisory will be issued in early summer when the heat index reaches Level 5 or greater after Sunrise One.

'Remember, Doctor. We're the secret service and we'll be able to find you anywhere.'

Number Two: There will be NewsDataFeeds on coping with heat, high-risk groups and acclimation to the heat. Monitoring of Medical Centres, for heat-related illnesses and deaths will intensify.

For a moment, it seemed that a smile was about happen on Spessogack's face but, better still, in the Doctor's opinion, the image and the stern features it projected, faded from view.

Number Three: A heat emergency will be declared by the Health Director if the heat index peaks above Level 4 for three consecutive days, peaks above Level 5 for one day, or if the temperature does not drop below Level 2 for one night.

'At least I don't have to look at that face in all three dimensions anymore,' he commented to himself.

'I'm sorry, Doctor. I thought you'd finished. What did you say?' The face came back.

'I said that… I'd rather get some rest now.'

Number Four: The Health Department will intensify monitoring of temperatures, hospital emergency departments, medical centres, and a special Action Centre for heat-related indicators.

'Of course. By the way Doctor.'

'Yes?'

Number Five: City departments and community agencies participating in heat response will be contacted and put on stand-by alert.

'You might consider a mask on your face to filter chemicals and smells when breathing. There's always a chemical taste in the air I'm afraid, but at least you won't need any anti-radiation cream, given that your stay will be a brief one. If I were you, I'd listen to the Heat Warning information on the shuttle, if you get the chance...'

Number Six: Agencies will…

The Doctor put his hands over his ears and closed his eyes.

On landing, the Doctor and Idiacoz had separated with the former going to meet Ace and the latter, agreeing to go on ahead and meet the Doctor outside the labs at a set time. In reality, Idiacoz had decided to head directly for Farockaway's labs and forewarn Farockaway that the Doctor was on his way and was very likely to have been sent to eliminate him. The Doctor had warned her that they were both being monitored and not to try anything silly that might cause them to harm her. 'We won't be able to hide from this lot,' he told her.

A Ground Shuttle quickly took passengers to HJ:489.365.325, otherwise known as the Lighcatt Centre and it was here that Idiacoz, saying a brief goodbye to the Doctor, stopped at an Automatic Service Point (ASP) to hire a Pod.

'Your request?' the ASP said as kindly as it was programmed to do.

'I need a Pod indefinitely,' Idiacoz told it.

The ASP scanned her finger and tested another 7 factors at random, in this case, aroma, heartbeat, height, weight, front-dental, blinking style and cough test. The characteristics were all rated and a seventy-seven digit figure gave a Probability Match.

'Code accepted,' said the ASP, 'Pod in arrival.'

A Pod wasn't really a Pod any more. It was a form of transport that used anti-gravity, but when this technology was first developed, anti-gravity wasn't as strong and other boosters were required. The name stuck even though the vehicle wasn't so much anti-gravity in the Farockaway sense but more of a hovercraft. Part of the Pod's success was down to making the vehicle small, light and oval shaped. Anti-gravity vehicles (AGV's) needed more power on Sirosan than they did on the moons so new bi-power designs had become popular, even if Pods could still only carry a maximum of around one-and-a-half average sized beings.

'Welcome. I am your Pod.'

'Pod?' said Idiacoz.

'Pod ready.'

'Central Research Complex LGK456. Go.'

'Confirmed.'

'Pod?'

'Pod ready.'

'Name: Farockaway.' Idiacoz wasn't going to waste any time. Pod's were Category 2 Intelligent Vehicles - IntelliVehicles - and would be able to provide her some of the basic information she required before she'd even started moving.

The Pod replied in no time at all. '30,405 individuals, 2 locations, 4 products, match.'

Idiacoz requested, 'Individual. Scientist'.

The Pod replied too quickly. 'Unmatched criteria,' it announced.

'Scientist Farockaway,' insisted Idiacoz.

'Scientist Farockaway, Central Research Centre LGK…'

Without further comment, the Pod silently made its way to the destination hovering, as it was programmed to do, just above the surface of the planet.

During the shuttle flight the Doctor and Idiacoz had gotten to know one another a bit better. He told her a little about Galifrey and Earth; she told the Doctor about work and her father.

'You read my mind earlier, didn't you? You were inside it.'

'Sort of yes,' he said.

'So you know what I know.'

'More or less.'

'So you believe me that I really don't know where Farockaway is.'

'Totally. But look, that isn't really the point - I have to find him or this…' he lowered his voice and put his mouth to her ear, 'this owner chap. You know the one? That's what this is really all about.'

'He's missing.'

'The Doctor put a finger over his mouth and said, 'Yes.' Then he turned his ear to Idiacoz.

'He's with Farockaway,' she said. 'They were supposed to meet down on the planet as usual. Do you think Farockaway has tricked me and it is he who has really kidnapped The Owner?'

'I've no idea. I just want to do this and then I'm off.'

'But why? What's it got to do with you? I mean Farockaway, The Owner and so on. You're not even from here.'

'They've kidnapped my assistant.'

'No!'

'Yes, she's a fine young woman – a bit like you I suppose – they've brought her down to the planet so I feel a bit trapped into this. They say they think I'll attract less attention on the planet – you know, an alien can hardly be a spy and all that. Either that's what they really think or…'

'Or what?' Idiacoz asked, a hint of concern in her voice. 'They need to set someone up. Perhaps it's a trap.'

Finally reunited, Ace and the Doctor were given separate quarters, which were clean and comfortable but sparse and not the kind you'd want to spend much time in. 'Perhaps that's the idea,' suggested Ace, although by now she'd grown used to sleeping on the floor.

There was a chiming sound from within the Doctor's clothing.

'Never any peace is there?' said the Doctor and from an inside pocket, he pulled out a pair of Goggles and put them on his head. Ace smiled broadly.

'Can you hear me?' It was Spessogack.

'LOUD AND CLEAR,' repeated the Doctor equally loudly and clearly, but with a pinch of mild annoyance.

Ace laughed loudly herself now. It didn't help.

'I suppose I ought to give you some information about The Owner,' said Spessogack.

'Well, I don't think I need to know just yet. Can you call me later?'

'I think you might need…'

'Leave a message after the beep,' said the Doctor and he and Ace made a long beep sound in unison.

Spessogack stopped speaking, 'I'm sorry?' he said.

'Nothing…' said the Doctor, 'We were just wondering where to start.'

Ace began laughing again and the Doctor was having trouble sounding serious. 'Best get the masks,' he said. 'Look, I must dash. See you later. Bye.'

The Doctor took of the Goggles and threw them down on a table.

'Nice goggles,' exclaimed Ace.

'I also have a special face mask for visiting polluted planets.'

'I didn't know you carried Goggles in the TARDIS,' she said.

'Ho-Ho-Ho. Very funny. I can lend them you if you like,' he said. 'Anything to avoid looking at that stupid face of Spessogack's.

'Listen up, Doctor, I've got lots to tell. I've been busy finding things out. And I know where to find The Owner.'

'So, you say. So you weren't really kidnapped at all?'

'No, not by the Leaderless. I went willingly. They really looked after me.'

'Well, I was worried, Ace. Maybe you should have stayed put.'

'With that robot guard? No way.' She walked to the door. 'This way, come on!'

'That's my line,' said the Doctor, a frown across his brow.

'It's not your line. Your line is, more: "Look out! Don't wander off! Keep down! Don't touch that button! Take me to your leader!" and so on.'

'All right then, lead the way. Take me to your Leaderless.'

'Ha-Ha! Very funny.'

It's over. I know what's happened. We both used the technology and then… I must have been knocked out – The Owner too – but I must have suffered amnesia or something. Now I remember. Got to get help…. Press this button…

Nothing happened.

He pressed the button again.

Still nothing happened.

He lay back on the bed…

He heard footsteps and the door to his quarters opened.

'What is it? What's happened?'

Farockaway looked blankly at the nurse. 'Who the fuck are you?' he said.

'You know who I am?'

'How do I know that?'

'It was you who called on the bell.'

'What bell? Why have you woken me up?'

'Did you have a dream?'

'Isn't this a dream, right here and now?'

'Not for me it isn't… Look, what can I get you?'

'Nothing.'

'I see.'

'I know who I am.'

'Who are you?'

'I can't remember.'

'You dreamt it.'

'Yeah.'

'And?'

'I can't remember'.

'But you remembered before…'

'I can't remember now… It's so hard… My memories are in there, I'm sure of it but…'

'But?'

'I need to rest… Please…'

Chapter 32

'And to think, you didn't even want to come,' said the Doctor.

'I know but I've met some fantastic people and had a lot of adventures. It's nice to be out of the TARDIS for a change.'

'So what did you get up to?'

Ace recounted her adventures to the Doctor, who listened patiently as she waxed and waned about meetings, her own sense of value and new ideas and ways of looking at the universe. 'I don't know the finer details of what they believe but I think they're well-meaning. They were great to me and I agree with a lot of the things they stand for – though they don't always agree between themselves what they want. I think they know what they don't want. That's what unites them – they're like a group of misfits.'

'I can see why you fitted in so well,' he said.

'Also, one of the things I discovered was the aesthetic.'

'Oh, yes?'

'Yes, it was fascinating. They said the scientists have made amazing discoveries about aesthetics and that mostly this subject has been ignored – totally ignored – and that if everyone was an aesthete, it would resolve all problems in a stroke – or at least the problems wouldn't have occurred in the first place.'

'That may be so.'

'Apparently, the scientists on this planet did some research and came up with a new philosophy for life. Some of them even gave up science.'

'And what was that?'

'Well, it's like this. It's like, when you look around you, everything that you see that is natural, the scenery I mean, is uncompromisingly beautiful – that's the word they used 'uncompromising' - which I've never heard used in this way before but I like it. And I was thinking that yes, everything in nature – deserts, forests, grass, mountains, if it's sunny or snowing or stormy or you're under the sea or up in the sky - yes, it's always uncompromisingly beautiful. At the very worst you can say something natural is bland but never ugly. Do you follow?'

'Yes, go on.'

'Nearly everything that you see that is ugly has been made humanoids. Sure, there are some beautiful creations that are not natural but the ones that are really ugly are all artificially made. One of them, Komodos says that natural scenery is never ugly but human scenery can be both beautiful and ugly. I agree with that.'

The Doctor smiled. 'Ace,' he said warmly, 'That's the thing that makes you humans so special.'

'What? The ugliness.'

'No, the fact that this idea is an absolute throughout the universe. Sooner or later, in most civilizations, scientists reach this conclusion, usually through a series of experiments. But on your planet, on the Earth, as far as I know, the people who made this discovery were not scientists but artists or writers.'

'You mean, there are people on Earth who understand this and agree?'

'Of course.'

'But who? Why doesn't everyone listen to them?'

'Well, there are a lot of people you'll never have heard of - the early Chinese, the Egyptians, the Native American Indians as they called them, lots of indigenous people... And artists from all over the world.'

'Yes, I have heard of those people.'

'Really? Can you name one?'

'Er, no. Okay, so, is there anyone who I've ever heard of?'

'Yes, perhaps. The most famous around your time was probably Oscar Wilde.'

'Good. I've heard of him.'

'He was from your part of Earth, just a bit before your time I'm afraid. Pity for him really.'

'Didn't he write poems?'

'Yes, and plays and manuscripts and so on. He was a very busy man.'

'Wasn't there some story about him? Didn't he get into trouble?'

'Yes, he did sadly.' The Doctor gazed as if dreaming, 'the love that dare not speak its name...'

'Was that a poem?'

'Not really no. But he was a fine, fine chap, just ahead of his time, that's all. Unluckily for him.'

'And I suppose you knew him as well as all the other VIP's at that time.'

'No, I never had that pleasure, but we had some mutual friends, who knew him very well – very well indeed.'

'He was around in the Victorian times – is that right?'

'Oh yes, but you know, the Victorian era never really came to an end, not until at least two-centuries years after Her Majesty's Death.'

'Queen Victoria, you mean?'

'Oh, ignore me. I'm just me being cynical. Unhappily some attitudes took a long time to die away but when they did, people began to see that Oscar Wilde was right about many things, including, what your friends here have to say about nature.'

'A shame they didn't act on it!'

'A great shame indeed,' said the Doctor.

When Ace had finished recounting the rest of her adventures, the Doctor said, 'Would you have liked to have remained with them?'

She looked up and hesitated. 'I don't know,' she said. 'I enjoyed it – more like a holiday for most of the time, though there was some sadness too – but I've missed you and the TARDIS. I'll be glad to get back.'

'Are you sure?'

'Oh yes, very sure. Absolutely. Here is not a nice place to live but there has been a lot to do. I prefer travelling though. I've decided.'

'Well, my dear Ace, that's my intention. I just want to get off of this planet as soon as possible, get up to the moon, fix the TARDIS and go somewhere nice.'

'Well, listen, I've tried to find out more about this The Owner. The Collective gave me a lot of information.'

'Yes, I can imagine. But can we trust what they have to say?'

'It's not all against him,' began Ace, 'But he doesn't sound such a nice character to me.'

'No, I get that impression too,' agreed the Doctor. 'Though of course, up there on the moon surrounded by the secret services, I was hardly going to get a balanced view anyway. What did you find out? I mean how did he get involved in this moon thing?'

'They told me that tried being a politician for a while but he didn't like it very much. He sold off his businesses so he had plenty of money and time. I suppose he just got bored and wasn't ready to retire.' Ace looked at some notes she'd made. 'He used his resources to purchase 50 percent of two other moons, the Purple one for recycling and getting materials on the cheap) and the Red prison one.

'Do you know much about this Montented character?'

'Montented already had the Green one and so he purchased another to catch up.' Ace checked her notes again, 'The Golden Asteroid. It seems that on his moon at least, what The Owner wants, he gets but this has sparked resentment on both Sirosan and the other moons,' she said.

'Yes, there wasn't an abundance of dissent from the official view on Sirosan-2.'

'There's isn't an official view down here to begin with,' Ace laughed. 'Anyway, Montented had this belief which was that the moons belonged to planet but other wanted devolved power to the moons. It wasn't a policy that The Owner really supported but he stood to benefit either way. In fact, he pretended not to want autonomy for Sirosan-2, partly because it was already autonomous for him. Things came to a head in a row after The Owner announced that Sirosan-2 would stop paying certain taxes to Sirosan.'

'Where do these people get their wealth and power from?' said the Doctor.

'Indeed,' said Ace, 'In colonising Sirosan-2, The Owner paid a lot of tax on the franchise, not to mention the franchise itself being a form of tax but in return he enjoyed a long period of tax-breaks in exchange for the infrastructure he promised to put in place. Effectively, after a massive outlay, The Owner, in the long term, stood to make a net gain from these tax exemptions. Nevertheless, due to the initial outlay, The Owner was successfully able to present himself as a victim of high taxes and he pushed the idea that it was unfair to make people living on Sirosan-2 pay tax to Sirosan – even though he personally didn't.'

'Sirosan-2 settlers disliked paying taxes to Sirosan because as far as they can see, they got nothing in return,' said the Doctor. 'That was made very clear to me.'

'Yes, the issue was complicated because whereas Sirosan-2 had very simple taxes, Sirosan's revenue raising system was both chaotic and grossly unfair. Sirosan-2 was franchised to The Owner for life and it had been reported that there was tension between The Owner and his eldest children over the terms of a trust holding the family's stake in the other moons. Under the trust, The Owner's privileges would not be transferable but were set to expire upon his death. Eventually, the Sirosan authorities offered a compromise, offering an official degree of autonomy, which existed de facto anyway, in return for The Owner agreeing to set up a Planning Council on the moon, which would be elected and free from his interference.'

'The Doctor smiled. 'If we start trying to track The Owner down through checking the people he's upset, it's going to take a very long time.'

The Doctor was right, thought Ace.

'Actually,' said the Doctor, 'There's quite a bit of support for The Owner on Sirosan-2. The hand that feeds and all that.'

Indeed, some Sirosan-2 settlers like Idiacoz's friend Bersgaard felt that The Owner had successfully changed the perception many felt about old-style politicians, who were considered to be unconcerned by ordinary peoples' needs and attitudes. The Owner was like the people, up against inertia and a distant and overweight bureaucracy that stifled people's flair for innovation.

For Idiacoz, The Owner's empire had been founded and developed with a lot of money yet he had never ever explained where that money came from and as a researcher, she felt that this point was all too often overlooked. Indeed, further research revealed that he had once been part a large subversive association, Blackfriars, aimed at taking control from the Sirosan government.

During the environmental scandals, many top level executives in his firms were charged and condemned, accused of bribery, false accounting, tax fraud and so on. Whilst in office and facing further legal action, The Owner pushed through a controversial law granting himself immunity from prosecution. Several members of the planning council were prosecuted for taking bribes to make a decision in favour of The Owner but his own situation had been 'frozen' by the new laws he'd created.

Judicial and customs investigators claimed to have uncovered large slush funds controlled by The Owner and his companies, which were expected to lead prosecutions for financial and tax evasion offences, yet he avoided successful prosecution, in part as a result of legislation introduced by the supposedly independent Sirosan-2 Planning Council such as de-criminalising 'false' accounting and making it more difficult to obtain legal documents from the other moons.

Chapter 33

Ace led the Doctor to a large complex of buildings, which she had explained to him belonged to The Owner.

'Well, I must say I'm impressed,' said the Doctor, 'You seem to know your way around. But what are we doing here together?'

'Come on…' was all Ace said. 'Your eyes are watering.'

'They sting!' complained the Doctor.

'That'll be the pollution. You'll have to wash your hair back on the TARDIS.'

'Are we actually going to go into this complex or just stand outside it?' she said.

'I'm due to meet someone here,' he replied.

'Here she comes,' said Ace as a short woman with red hair and even redder cheeks, wearing a security guard-type uniform marched out of a door and said to them bluntly, 'What do you want?'

Ace was about to answer the woman but the Doctor beat her to it. 'I was hoping to come in actually,' said the Doctor.

'Who are you?'

'I'm the Doctor.'

'Yes, but which Doctor? I've never seen you before.'

Ace laughed. 'She thinks I'm a Witch Doctor,' she said.

The Security woman looked confused

The Doctor asked, 'Do you mind if we come in?'

'You're not from this planet,' said the Security woman raising her eyes to the sky. 'Where are you from and what you doing here?'

'We're staying on the moon – Sirosan-2.' The Doctor pointed over his head, the woman looked up but there was no moon to be seen this time of the day. What's more, the sky was covered in a thick haze. 'We've come on a visit,' he added.

'A visit you say. I don't think so.'

'We're here to meet someone.'

'Who might that be?'

'Professor Farockaway.'

The Security Guard looked them up and down. 'I'll check on my list,' she told them and walked back inside. As she did so, the Doctor subtly handed a card to Ace. She looked at it briefly and frowned.

'What is it?' she enquired in a low voice.

'ID,' he replied.

'How have you done that?'

'Don't ask. Trick of the mind, okay.'

Ace looked at her ID Card again and smiled. She and the Doctor stood waiting.

Sometime later, the woman re-emerged. 'I'm sorry but there is nothing on my list. There are no visits planned at all today.'

'Yes, well, here we are,' said the Doctor, holding up his card. He nodded for Ace to do the same. The security woman took a closer look at both then she looked at the Doctor with a serious expression on her already gravely set face.

'I want you away from this building as soon as possible. I haven't got time to waste. If you're not gone by the time I count to ten, then I'll have you both detained.'

Ace looked at her ID again; the Doctor looked at his.

'One,' said the security guard.

'Look again,' he said, 'I don't understand.'

'Two,' she was not going to give in.

'Look, these are our ID's. Where's the problem?'

'I'm not here to be made fun of. And you are wasting my time.'

'What's happened?' asked Ace.

'Four.'

'What do you mean four? You haven't said three yet.'

'Five.'

'I don't understand it. This is psychic paper,' said the Doctor. Try the back.

'Yeah, right. Psycho paper more like.'

'It can't be working. Why's that?'

'Two blank bits of card. You could have done better than that. Now be off with you!'

'We're still on number six, right?'

'EIGHT.' The tone and volume had changed.

'We're not doing any harm? I made a mistake,' said the Doctor.

'I'm just a security guard doing a job. I can call in the military police, you know.'

'Point taken,' said the Doctor, 'We'll be off now.'

The security woman, stood hands on hips, and watched as the Doctor and Ace went out of sight.

'Where now then?' said Ace as soon as they could stop walking a reasonably safe distance without being seen.

'The first thing is to have a stroll around the perimeter without arousing too much attention.'

'Isn't it too late for that?'

'Well, yes it is and no it isn't,' said the Doctor.

'Not again,' said Ace.

'The security woman, and her colleagues will remember our faces…'

'I don't follow?'

'Because of the white cards and the big act, it will seem that we are some sort of harmless nutters.'

'But you asked to visit.'

'Yes, but I didn't specify. They just think we're being nosey, that's all. Everything will be all right.'

'I hope you're right, Doctor.'

'Come on, it's a long walk. We have to get round the other side without getting too near – somewhere where she can't see us.'

'How did the secret services expect you to get into this complex then?'

'They never said. I just assumed that being secret services, they would have made it easier for me. I actually thought that I could just turn up and be on the guest-list but obviously not. I don't know.'

'I take it that the woman you came down with…'

'Idiacoz.'

'… was not the same woman as we've just had to deal with.'

'Correct. The woman I am meant to meet was supposed to help get us into this place. She used to work here.'

As they walked and spoke, the Doctor received an incoming message. He put his Goggles on and said, 'Yes!' expecting it to be Idiacoz apologising for being late.

'Doctor, what has happened?' It was Spessogack.

'Well, I take it you are watching me from up there or wherever.' He looked up, smiled and waved. 'I thought I might just be able to go into the complex you said The Owner had last been seen in – where his trackers last had him – but some security people stopped me.'

'There's just been a mix-up. Go back there now and they'll let you in. You've been put on a list to go and visit a Professor Farockaway, the scientist. He works for The Owner. If you look at reference 465.456.935, you'll find his labs inside the building. Probably better to take a lift – it'll get you there quicker.'

'Which floor?'

'Don't worry about it? The lift will sort it out for you. It's intelligent.'

Sure enough, the Doctor returned to the security gate and accepted the apologies of the woman they had spoken to before. 'Please don't let it worry you. It's not your fault I wasn't on the list. All I need is for you to show me where the lifts are.'

The security woman, now happy to oblige, accompanied Ace and the Doctor to the lift and even keyed in the co-ordinates for them. 'Shall I come with you?' she asked.

'That won't be necessary but thank you all the same. By the way, what is your name?'

'Name? It's Guardia,' she said.

'Well, Guardia, thank you very much and don't worry about our little misunderstanding before. I'm sorry about the cards. I thought Ace here had understood when I told her to write our names on them.'

'Well, if there is anything that you need, then let me know.'

Inside the lift the Doctor and Ace commented on the lift technology. When they arrived a pink light was lit over them – two pink lights. Ace and the Doctor walked through the open doors and towards the Lab.

The Doctor had expected to meet someone on the way or at least to find someone inside but they simply found the doors barred.

'What are we going to do now?' asked Ace.

'Sonic solutions: a screwdriver for just the occasion,' he said and opened the doors with ease 'It's well protected,' he added.

Inside the chamber, there were the usual computers, monitors, furniture – a typical boffin lab.

'These are the labs of Professor Farockaway,' the Doctor told Ace. 'I was hoping to find him here.'

Ace began to walk around looking at the instruments on permanent display. 'It was never going to be that simple… I don't know what half this stuff does but it sure looks impressive.'

The Doctor had already gone into himself as he examined instruments elsewhere so Ace continued walking. There were different labs all interlinked rather than it being one big open space as she'd imagined it would be. The Doctor was lost in thought as he explored but could occasionally be heard mutter to himself. He certainly couldn't claim he was talking to the TARDIS this time, thought Ace who continued to explore lab after lab.

'There's nothing here as far as I can see,' said the Doctor.

There was no reply.

'I said…' the Doctor looked up but realised Ace was somewhere else. 'Never mind,' he added.

Ace had gone deeper into Farockaway's complex. There was a strange odour in the air and she followed it to source.

The Doctor finished checking whatever it was that he was checking and followed her. 'I was saying…' but again he failed to finish the same sentence. 'What the…?'

For some reason, there was a tree in the middle of the floor. It was hardly what he'd expected to see. For a brief flash he feared that it was Ace who'd be transformed, as if by a witch. Then he saw her standing to his left, baseball bat in hand.

'So, now we know what the so-called secret project was,' said the Doctor.

'I can't believe it,' said Ace smiling. 'That must be the plan: to grow trees and replant them. It might help reverse the global warming trends.'

'Yes, well, couldn't they just, you know, grow them, normally?'

'It takes a long time to do that – maybe they've found a way of accelerating plant growth. That could mean more trees in a short space of time.'

'Yes, but how?'

'Let's have a look at these instruments, here,' said the Doctor and he walked over to where find a small turquoise dome overturned and lying on its top. 'Looks like some kind of lid or something.'

'It can't just have grown there, can it?' He paused and turned towards Ace. 'Is there any reason to have that baseball bat out?'

She put the bat away. 'Maybe it was tele-transported.'

The Doctor laughed. 'It would be an odd use of resources.' He bent down to examine something, then looked over his head and at the ceiling. He made some quick mental calculations. 'Oh no,' he said.

'What is it?'

'It's worse than I thought. It can't be.'

'WHAT can't it be?' Ace was infuriated.

'I think I might know who is behind this.'

'Who?'

'I'll explain later – come on.'

She sighed. She wanted to know now. 'Where are we going?'

'The Owner's quarters are near here somewhere. Just follow the map.'

Ace and the Doctor ran along a series of passageways, left and right, up and down. Before they could get to where the Doctor had indicated The Owner's quarters would be. As they hurried along, they were stopped by half-a-dozen militia who arrived as if from no-where.

'Er… We need to go in there please.'

'I'm afraid this area is off limits.'

The Doctor looked surprised. 'I don't think I understand,' he said.

The guard just looked at the Doctor impassively.

'Who is in there?'

'Who are you?'

'It doesn't matter who I am. Is he there?'

'Is who there?'

'Thanks for the information,' said the Doctor.'

'I am not permitted to divulge information.'

'So The Owner is there?'

The guard didn't respond.

'He's not there?'

Again there was no response.

'Look, I don't want to waste your time but we've been cleared to visit him.'

'Not by me you haven't.'

'By Guardia, the security woman.'

'Not by me.'

'Just contact her and ask.'

'It doesn't make any difference.'

'I know he's in there.'

The guard looked surprised.

The Doctor insisted. 'Do you know? How do you know?'

The guard looked curious but he didn't reply.

'If you don't ask me, I won't tell you. Let us check.'

The guard looked confused at what the Doctor had said, 'I cannot give you any information - there's no point in asking.'

'No, don't worry. You've given me enough information as it is. Thanks. He's in there and you've been given orders not to disturb.'

'That's right. At all costs. DO. NOT. DISTURB. That means me and you. Now run along!'

'Thing is,' whispered the Doctor. 'What if he's in there and something has happened to him… You know? What if he needs help? What if he wants someone to check on him from time to time?'

'That is not a matter for us.'

'You'd like to be remembered as the guard who stood outside whilst inside The Owner he was protecting lay rotting away inside? The guard who killed The Owner and started a war?'

'Orders are orders, we say.'

'I see,' said the Doctor, hiding his disappointment well. 'I'll be back. Come on, Ace.'

The Doctor and Ace walked back towards Farockaway's labs. The Doctor called Spessogack. 'He's in there all right – they can't be guarding nothing – but we can't get past them either. We need to create a diversion of some kind.'

'What do you suggest?'

'Well, I was kind of hoping that you would be able to intervene here.'

'Sorry Doctor, that's not why we sent you. You have to do it under your own steam. Understand?'

'Can't you send one of your laser beams and create some sort of diversion that will draw the guards away?'

'I think that might bring undue attention to the situation. Apart from any diplomatic fall out. Tensions between Sirosan-2 and Sirosan are running high enough as it is. And they're not laser beams as you put it.'

'Listen. Are you able to communicate directly with him?'

'Normally, yes but his trackers are down, never mind his communicators.'

'What about with his quarters? You mean to say you can't find a way to communicate with him at all.'

'Is he alive?' Spessogack's question surprised the Doctor.

'Er... That's a good question. Look, I know, I'll try to set up some sort of communications link with his quarters. I'll call him up.'

'How are you going to do that?' Spessogack enquired.

'I'll think of something,' he said and he interrupted the communication.

'What? You'll think of something now or in the future?' It was Ace questioning him this time.

'I'm thinking about it now.'

'And?'

'And… That baseball bat… If you could create a diversion… Perhaps…'

'You want me to set it on stun, Captain?'

'Pardon?'

'I don't think a single baseball bat is going to do the trick – they're armed, they're well-protected, their professionals.'

'Unlike that poor tree beforehand…'

'I thought that the tree was something else, all dangly bits, you know, branches and leaves. A tree's the last thing you'd expect to find in these labs. It was dark too.'

The Doctor grinned. 'Really? I can think of a lot stranger things to find in a laboratory than a tree.'

'Your point being.'

'My point is that I wasn't suggesting you run up and attack the guards, whilst I sneak in behind them and use the sonic screwdriver.'

'I wouldn't have put it past you.'

'Well, that was what came to mind first I admit but – point taken – it might be dangerous. Instead, I think you might be able to create a diversion with a little more cunning.'

The Doctor explained his plan to Ace and they separated. She waited for the Doctor to get into position then she walked back to where the guards had been.

The Doctor was waiting further down the corridor ready for her to act. When she was prepared, Ace took out the baseball bat then lay face down, putting the bat onto the small of her neck.

From his vantage point, the Doctor watched as the guards' attention was drawn to a sound.

'Did you hear something?' said one.

'What?' replied his colleague.

'I heard a sound.'

'It's nothing. There are lots of sounds in this complex. Conversations carry.'

'It sounded like someone groaning.'

'Don't worry. After you've been doing guard duty long enough, you'll be the one who is groaning.'

'No seriously. Listen.'

Ace groaned again and said, 'Please… Somebody? Help…'

'Any idea who it is?'

'No, it might be somebody up there tapping the wires or back that way listening to us like we're listening to him.'

'I wonder who it is.'

'I don't know. After you've been working in this complex as long as I have, you hear a lot of things, see a lot of things too. The suns in the sky and the heat, all that metal out there, the corridors and lifts that aren't real at all. And sometimes you think that the wind gets in the wires and hums and listens and talks – just like what we're hearing now. Still hear it?'

'No, it's gone.'

'Well, that's the way it is. It comes and goes.'

Ace waited for the talking to stop then groaned again, this time louder.

'Go and check,' said the first guard. 'But be careful.'

The guard walked carefully, hand on weapon. He turned a corner and tripped on Ace's head. She groaned again, much more convincingly this time, given that the pain was real.

The guard looked down, knelt and touched her neck.

'QUICK,' he called out. 'It's that girl from before. She's down.'

The colleague arrived and seeing what happened called for a medic.

'There is no medic,' came the reply. 'This is a security service not a team of roving paramedics.'

'Where does it hurt?' asked one.

'Who did this to you?' queried the other.

'Where is the man you were with? Did he do this?'

Ace continued to groan. 'My head,' she said.

Under cover of Ace's commotion, the Doctor ran from where he was hiding and sonic screwdriver in hand proceeded to open the door to The Owner's chambers. It duly slid sideways as an alarm sounded. The guards immediately left Ace and raced back to their original positions. The Doctor hopped through the doors and used the sonic screwdriver to close them again. He turned to catch his bearings and met the barrel of a stun gun between his eyes. Behind the gun were five other guards all aiming their weapons at him. 'I'm unarmed,' he said as a blast of energy set him in a force field. The external doors opened and the original guard came in, holding Ace by the hair. 'Nice try!' he said but we're not stupid. Now come this way.'

'What are you going to do with us?' asked the Doctor.

'We're going to follow orders. Something like this may be regarded as an attempted assassination. Someone might want to make an example of you both.'

'We only wanted to speak to The Owner.'

Before the guard could answer, they heard the same type of groaning that Ace had been feigning only moments previously.

'What's going on?' said the first guard.

'It's coming from inside,' said the second.

'See?' said the Doctor. 'I was right.'

Two guards stayed with the Doctor and Ace; the others ran towards the cause of the noise, weapons primed. 'If this is another trap…'

Inside the quarters, having opened another set of doors, the guards found The Owner lying on the floor, holding his stomach and in agony. He was quickly attended to.

'WE NEED A MEDIC NOW!' shouted one into a communicator.

The Owner could hardly speak. One of the guards ran back towards where the Doctor and Ace were being held. 'Quick! I said. Call a medic.'

The guard holding Ace began to communicate the request but the Doctor said, 'Let me see. I'm a Doctor.'

'STOP THERE. DON'T MAKE A MOVE!'

'Well, I'm only trying to help. If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have found him in the first place.'

'The guards, still pointing their weapons, pushed Ace and the Doctor forwards into the same chamber as The Owner lay.

'What do you think you are doing?' cried the first guard.

'This man says he can help.'

'So?'

'Well, it was him – he said something like this might happen.'

'Check with Spessogack on Sirosan-2.,' the Doctor told them. 'Tell him, you've caught the Doctor and see what he says.'

The guard hesitated momentarily. 'DO IT!' barked his colleague.

On the floor The Owner continued to groan and writhe around. 'Help me,' he murmured.

'I don't know what to do,' said the guard tending him hopelessly…

The Doctor turned his attention to what Spessogack was saying to the Guard.

'Well, what is it?' demanded the Doctor.

The guard strained to hear better. 'Yes-Yes… Yes. Both of them, yes…' Spessogack, it seemed, had a lot to say.

Finally, the guard was able to speak himself. 'Yes, of course,' he muttered and turned to the other guards.

'Well?' asked one, speaking for all.

'He says to let this Doctor have a go.'

The Doctor wrenched himself free and made to attend The Owner.

'Watch it!' said the guard not really believing. 'Because we are watching you! No false moves. No funny business.'

The Doctor reached into his pocket.

'DON'T!' said the guard. 'Take that hand from your pocket now!'

The Doctor did as he was told and removed his hand. 'I've been vouched for - isn't that sufficient?' he protested.

'No,' replied the guard. 'We're in charge of The Owner's personal security, whilst he is here – it's our responsibility if things go wrong!'

From the floor The Owner raised an arm. 'Please, don't hurt me!' he whispered.

The guards looked at one another.

The Owner cried out in terror, 'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!' he shrieked. 'Leave me alone!'

'I just want to help you,' the Doctor assured him.

The Owner rolled over onto his stomach and began to crawl. He bellowed like a child but there was something wild and undomesticated about him.

'I think you had better not touch him, Doctor,' said the guard.

'But…'

'That's an order. If you don't obey, I will shoot. Understood?'

As he spoke, The Owner dragged himself to his feet. He looked at the Doctor and the guards, still in terror and shrieked again before turning on his heels and running.

The Doctor who had been crouching down leapt at The Owner and rugby tackled him to the floor. There was more shrieking from The Owner as the Doctor managed to pull from his sleeve the sonic screwdriver, which he pressed to The Owner's temple. Before the guards could react, a giant ball of plasma brightened up the room and there was a huge rumbling and roaring sound as The Owner screeched at the top of his lungs, an unnatural sound, more like a wounded animal than a person thought the Doctor.

He pulled Ace towards him and her momentum toppled them away from the plasma ball, which made contact with the soldiers and threw them across the chamber. The Doctor and Ace were blown over and lay stunned in darkness for a few moments before they clambered back onto their feet as the lights returned. The guards did not get up.

'Are they dead?' Ace asked.

'I would imagine so,' the Doctor replied, he didn't seem to be all that concerned, instead looking elsewhere for The Owner however there was no sign of him.

'What happened?' asked Ace.

'I've no idea,' replied the Doctor squinting. 'That is, I have some idea but… but it's impossible.'

A passing woman had heard the commotion and come into the chamber. She threw her hands to her face and recoiled. 'YOU'VE KILLED THEM!'

'What?' said the Doctor, looking with terrified eyes at Ace.

'MURDERER! HELP! MURDERER!' shouted the woman, running back from where she'd come.

The Doctor began to say, 'What the…?' before the woman returned shouting even louder.

'HERE…! SOMEONE! HERE…! HE'S KILLED THE GUARDS! HELP ME!'

'But I… It wasn't me!'

'I SAW HIM. HE DID IT. HELP! SOMEBODY!'

'DOCTOR! WE BETTER LEG IT!' yelled Ace, 'LETS GO!'

'THEY'RE GETTING AWAY!' shouted the woman as the Doctor and Ace ran and ran and ran some more.

It was as if the sky had spoken to me… We arranged all the fragments and were able to see things… Computers filled in the rest… and calculations… Past and Future… It's all there… So our aims changed and when I told him… When I told him what it meant… We had to keep it secret… We had to keep them both secret until the end. It was the Maggz you see. The Maggz would have found out. They knew we had the hardware and most of the knowledge. It was only a matter of time, but the Maggz would have stolen it from us, like they always do…

I remember feeling just so tired that I had to lay down immediately on the floor and sleep. My eyes were just so incredibly heavy, there was no option. Otherwise my head would have started spinning and my stomach would have emptied. The only thing close to that, I have ever experienced is space sickness but I wasn't in space, I was on the moon and no-one felt it… Just thinking about it makes me ill. I was hot and feverish but still. I just really needed to sleep. I felt like my brain had been scrambled. Or sunstroke… yes it was a lot like sunstroke but there wasn't the sun… Neither of them. It was just a terrible feeling and I had loads of dreams, really vivid. Anyway, the worst thing was imagining I was waking up and getting up off the floor and I did it but of course I was still asleep… I was trying to wake up and I couldn't. What a horrible feeling. You think, okay now I'm serious but you can't get awake. I was checking to see if I'd pulled myself up a little, because in the dream I'd gone through the motions, but I hadn't. When I did finally come out of it, I sat up slumped for ages, but at least I was awake. I nearly fell asleep again though.

Chapter 34

Idiacoz approached the Research complex with a sense of nostalgia as she had sometimes visited the centre with her father on Family Day, when the laboratories, at least most of them, welcomed the relatives and friends of staff, laying on food and entertainment all in the name of good public relations.

The first thing Idiacoz had done when Farockaway disappeared was try to contact him at these labs but she was told that he wasn't available, that a message would be taken and to call back later if she wanted. She'd already tried contacting Farockaway on his personal communicator and in the end had left a message for him to call her.

Unlike the Family Day of her childhood, Idiacoz wasn't going to be allowed to just stroll into the complex and look around. For one thing, the site had been modified since her last visit – even the reception area, where she had asked to see the scientist and was inevitably the told to call and make an appointment, had moved to another area some distance away from the original.

Idiacoz asked if Farockaway still worked at the complex; regrettably, no details could be supplied. Security had a list and she wasn't on it. Who is on the list then? It wasn't worth asking.

Idiacoz didn't know what to do next. What was I thinking of, just coming here and trying to get in without an appointment? Trying to get in before the Doctor. He said they would be watching me.

How things had changed in her life in such a short time. Farockaway had disappeared, left her a secret message giving the real reasons but telling not where he was, indeed telling her not to get involved. Is he mad? How can I not get involved?

As she stood thinking about what to do next, a man approached her as if from no-where.

'They wouldn't let you in, either?' he said.

'I'm sorry.'

'To see someone.'

'No, no, they wouldn't.' Inside herself, Idiacoz she was terrified. She smiled pleasantly.

'How do I know?' he said, as if reading her thoughts. 'Because I've just tried myself - tried getting in myself. If I can't get in, then no-one can.'

'Why's that? Who are you?'

'I worked here… I mean, I think I did… Something's happened. I don't know what. They're not letting anyone in.'

'What do you mean?'

'I've just tried getting in and can't. I mean, I worked here and even I don't know what's going on.'

'You… You worked here?'

'What do are you? Security?'

'I work in Professor Farockaway's labs.'

'With Farockaway?' There is no way can be is true!

'Yes… on various projects… I don't understand it. I can't contact him. I hope nothing bad has happened.'

The man looked suitably sad but Idiacoz recognised a good actor when she saw one. 'It's strange,' she said before deciding not to explain why she thought that.

'And you? You were going to see someone?'

'Hoping to, that's right.'

'What about?'

The tone of questioning reminded her of the police. Farockaway had warned of their involvement, hadn't he? She didn't want to come across as having anything to hide so she said, 'My name is Idiacoz – I'm a researcher from…'

'Sirosan-2… Yes… The Pressure Limbs kind of give it away…'

Idiacoz shrugged as best she could then tried to make up a reason for being there. 'I work on the Professor's SkyLights project…'

'Oh, you do, do you? Professor Farockaway too? Very interesting.'

'Well…' Idiacoz had to choose her words carefully. 'I know the SkyLights project is based here but I'm based on the moon. We make our own observations and then the professor makes comparisons…' Her voice drifted away, unsure whether her story was sticking or even worth bothering with at all.

The irony was that whilst she suspected the person in front of her of not being who he said he was – even though he hadn't yet even introduced himself – he was treating her as if she were the impostor.

The man looked her up and down. She didn't like it.

'It's a reserved project. Yes… part of it at least…'

Idiacoz wasn't doing this very well. Years of training as a researcher should have prepared her better. What was I thinking? Just turning up like that and asking questions. I haven't even sorted out my story!

'I've never heard him mention you,' said the man in front of her.

'I've never heard him mention you either,' she said. 'Who are you?'

'Who am I?'

Idiacoz intimated to the man that she should answer.

'Silvacolla,' he said, hesitantly.

'Right… Well, he's never mentioned you.'

'Oh… … I mean, it's a reserved project, that's why…'

'So why wouldn't your scan work? You're supposed to work in there, aren't you?' she asked.

'Like I said, something has happened,' replied Silvacolla. 'Your scan hasn't worked either.'

'I didn't say I did a scan. I don't work here – I have an appointment. It's different.'

'It looks as if you've been stood up,' said Silvacolla raising an eyebrow.

Idiacoz realised that they were getting nowhere. She was suspicious of Silvacolla –what exactly it was, she didn't know – but he obviously knew more than he was letting on and he certainly wasn't an assistant to Farockaway. More likely he is a military man or spy or security or something spooky!

All of these considerations were relevant to whether she was going to survive the next few moments. She tasted the wound to her lip, the one left by Pigmal. It was slightly swollen and the cut tasted salty. Will I be made to disappear as well?

Idiacoz knew that she had to get away – but where to? If only this Doctor would turn up – unless he was in on it too. It was obvious from his behaviour that Silvacolla suspected her of something – though all police officers give out that feeling as their eyes look you up and down and up again for signs of no good…

'Well, thank you for your time,' she said. 'I'll be off now. I just wanted to pop by for a chat with him. If he's forgotten, it can't be helped.'

'Pop down, you mean.'

'I'm sorry?' She was taken aback.

'In a Pressure Suit, from Sirosan-2.' Silvacolla looked at Idiacoz challengingly. She felt that he knew she was up to something even if it was obvious that she wasn't a professional.

Despite the outward appearance, Silvacolla was confused as well. Who is this woman snooping around, pretending to be involved in a secret project with Farockaway? A spy? She doesn't look very professional - although I suppose that the fumbling will be part of an act, throw people off the trail, go grey, etc…

'Frankly speaking,' explained Silvacolla, 'I don't trust you. I don't trust you and I don't know who you are.' He paused and then changed track. Looking into the sky he said, 'These lights - amazing - probably some of the most beautiful things that there are in the universe.'

Idiacoz didn't understand but Silvacolla continued, 'You come here asking questions about the scientist, with some made up story about being a colleague – you're not a very convincing liar, are you?'

'You have no reason to fear me,' was all Idiacoz could say as she felt tired of pretending, resigned that she might be risking all now.

'Who are you really?' asked Silvacolla.

'Who are you really?' she replied.

'You first.'

'I told you who I am!' said Idiacoz. 'I work with Farockaway up on Sirosan-2. I can prove it. You've heard of Pasorlid?'

'So?'

'What do you mean, 'So'?!'

'So what? Who is Pasorlid?'

'You don't know who Pasorlid is?' she said, laughing. 'How can you call yourself a scientist if you don't know who Pasorlid is?'

'I know who he is but he died many years ago, I seem to recall.'

'Well, you can check me out,' she said. 'It'll all be there. I'm his daughter.'

Silvacolla paused for thought. Maybe she sort of did check out. 'Very well,' he began. 'Perhaps we can fill each other in. I'll tell you what I know, if you tell me what you know – first.'

Idiacoz repeated that she'd come to see Farockaway at his labs, as she was down on the planet carrying out research and that they'd planned a meet up but he wasn't to be found. 'I'm not a killer or anything,' she added.

'I know that now, don't I, but I had to be sure. I think it may be best if we don't hang around here. I see you have a Pod available?'

Once she'd stopped panicking, Idiacoz had reasoned that if the authorities on Sirosan-2 had wanted rid of her, they would have done it sooner so she stood her ground. 'Why should I take you?' she asked.

Silvacolla looked over her shoulder at a woman with red hair in a security guard's uniform approaching on foot. She was armed.

'Look, if you hang around too long outside a military research centre, you're going to get picked up sooner or later. It's your choice. I'm off. With you or not…'

Idiacoz led the way to her vehicle and they both got in. It was a tight squeeze, what with Idiacoz's Pressure Limbs, but they were in and away. 'Drive anywhere,' she told it.

There was a pause, then the computer replied that it didn't understand her request. 'Never mind,' she said. 'Switch to manual control.'

Idiacoz was fed up. She hadn't slept properly since before Farockaway's revelation and she was feeling both anxious and exhilarated at the same time. The adrenalin was keeping her going but she would soon have to rest and clear her thoughts.

Silvacolla told her to give the Pod coordinates and return to automatic control, which she did unquestioningly.

As they travelled, she realised that she had been sloppy and ill-prepared to get into Farockaway's labs and for all she knew, she could now easily be walking – or at least gliding – into another trap. What am I doing?

'Pod' she said, an idea forming her mind. The Pod responded with a bright, 'Yes?'

'Record voice message and track location. Send to these coordinates with a time delay.'

The Pod did as it was told, took the coordinates, which were those of Bersgaard and listened as Idiacoz recorded her experiences so far:

'If by any chance something happens to me, do not do what I've done and come looking around and do not go to the authorities. Just wipe away anything to do with this and try to disappear yourself.'

She wasn't happy with what she'd just said – she realised that she'd just publicised Bersgaard's coordinates to Silvacolla without thinking but it was too late now.

Her Pod turned to the left, between two hillocks and into a large circle surrounded by mounds of stone – some sort of quarry, she thought. If it was a trap, it wasn't a very good one as they were still in broad daylight.

The Pods came to a halt and they each stepped out.

'I didn't know whether you were going to call the authorities,' said out Silvacolla. 'I wasn't sure you trusted me.'

Idiacoz gave a nervous laugh. I don't.

'I'm glad you do though. Listen?' he reached inside a pocket and Idiacoz came closer. 'It's this...'

Silvacolla swung round and Idiacoz instantly recognised that the object Silvacolla held in his hand was a weapon.

'These lights,' he said, 'Amazing. Probably some of the most beautiful things that there are in the universe…'

Idiacoz's eyes widened in fear. She wanted to ask, What lights? butknew this would have been a stupid question to finish on. This is it, she thought. This was the sort of final speech an assassin might make.

'You see this device?' he asked, holding a small pyramid by the base. 'You know what this can do?'

He was still speaking to her, which was a good sign, she thought. So he didn't intend to kill her right away? She'd have to tell him everything she knew and then hope. She didn't want him to torture her.

'It looks innocent enough,' he said, emphasising the verb to look.

'What do you mean?'

'Come on! Can't you recognize a traction pistol, when you see one?'

'I've never seen one before...' she tried to pretend.

Silvacolla looked at the weapon and then at Idiacoz. 'Who are you really and what do you want? I won't hesitate to use this, you know.'

'I told you. I'm a researcher.'

'Idiacoz? I know, you've said that… Or are you an impostor pretending to be a researcher so you can…'

'I'm not an impostor – I told you I can prove it.'

'You're not down here for any good, as far as I can see.'

'I got a message from Professor Farockaway…'

'Don't lie to me…' Silvacolla shook the weapon then lined it up in her direction

'It had a message.'

'Go on.'

She began to edge to her left. 'It contained a report.'

'By Farockaway?'

'Yes... But that's not important.'

'When was it dated?'

'I don't know… I just found it and the funny thing was that suddenly Farockaway said he was scared about a discovery he'd made and…'

'I'm listening.'

'It was a report about his work – then at the end of it there was another message…'

'What message?'

Idiacoz told Silvacolla everything that had happened to her. Long before she'd finished, he looked puzzled, gazing into the heavens, the traction pyramid still in his hand but no longer waved as a threat to drag her around the sky, bouncing her off hard surfaces until she confessed.

'You do believe me, don't you?'

'A story like that?'

'I know it sounds far-fetched - I only lied to you because…'

'It sounds so far-fetched that it must be true…' he said.

'I don't understand,' confessed Idiacoz.

Silvacolla's mood suddenly changed again. 'In here again,' he told her pointing to her Pod.

'In there? But…'

'You wanted to ask questions? Get in!'

'But…'

'Get in or get shot: you decide!'

Silvacolla told the Pod where to go, which turned out to be another empty space in yet another quarry like structure. He also told the Pod to do a scan to see whether they were being followed and the Pod replied that they were not.

'Why here?' asked Idiacoz.

'Frankly speaking,' explained Silvacolla, 'I don't trust you. I don't trust you and I don't know you. You come here asking questions about Farockaway, with some made up story about being his assistant – but I want to trust you, if I can?'

'That's fine,' she replied. 'Because you are certainly not who you say you are.'

'And what am I?' replied Silvacolla.

'A military policeman undercover or a spy or someone? Or an assassin!'

He smiled but it was the forced smile of resignation. 'I'm none of those,' he said. 'I don't know who I am'.

'You're not a colleague of Farockaway's?'

'No, I am. I know that much, but I don't know much else.'

'Your name?'

'It's Silvacolla, yes.'

'Friends? Family? Home?'

'I don't know.'

'You don't know or you don't want me to know?'

He pressed a button to open the Pod doors.

'I don't know. Something has happened. I know Farockaway is the key. I really do work with him though.'

'Are you going to shoot me with that thing?' asked Idiacoz.

'No, I just wanted you to reveal what you knew.'

'Oh thanks!'

'When you asked me whether I was an undercover policeman or a spy… that's what I thought you were.' He put down the weapon. 'Come on,' he said and led the way up a large slope of small stones. When they reached the top he sat down and Idiacoz sat beside him.

'We all fear the unknown…' he said for reasons that Idiacoz couldn't fathom. 'Look up there. That's your home, isn't it?'

Idiacoz lay on her back and looked into the darkening sky. It just was possible to see Sirosan-2.

'Yes, it is. I live on the other side though.'

'I thought that's what you would say. You know, I used to spend hours as a child, lying here starting at the sky. It's the SkyLights that I prefer. After a while, the moons are pretty much the same – you know where they are and what they do. They just sit there, orbiting so slowly. But the SkyLights… Wow!'

'So you've done your homework?' said Idiacoz.

'What do you mean?'

'You know about that then?'

'Yes, I've been working with...'

Idiacoz sat up with a start. 'No, no, now… hold on. I'm the one who has been working with him on SkyLights, not you.'

Silvacolla sat up too. He paused again and seemed distracted. 'He didn't just work on the moon, did he? Look… He often came here. I've never even heard of you but I don't deny you might have been working with him up there. I didn't see you in the publicity fanfare when the project was announced though.'

'It all focused on Farockaway.'

Idiacoz began to worry again. Here she was, on a pile of stones in the middle of no-where, staring at slowly darkening skies perhaps with a madman, who had already threatened her with a weapon. Had he done away with Farockaway, locked him away or chopped him up? Would the same fate await her?

She was worried but at the same time, something within made her feel that she wasn't going to be harmed. Indeed, there was something familiar about this Silvacolla that put her, if not at ease, at least more at ease than she would have been with any other armed potentially homicidal maniac kidnapper. She said, 'How come then, that the SkyLights project was well-publicised and your project, which you can't even tell me what it is, has never been heard of?'

'Secrecy,' replied Silvacolla without a hint of irony.

'So you're trying to get me to believe that Farockaway was working on a secret project with you – about what?'

'It's a secret…'

'Right…. Er… And that he was secretly coming down here and working with you?' said Idiacoz putting Silvacolla to the test.

'Is it so farfetched?'

'Well, Farockaway confides in me about a lot of the things he does, why didn't he tell me about you?'

Silvacolla smiled then laughed. 'Come on. Why not tell me more about the lights? I mean, it's one thing to know about them but… seeing them… it's… they're so… beautiful…'

Idiacoz held firm. 'You haven't answered my question.'

Silvacolla laughed. 'If you know so much about the lights - you would also know that Farockaway had an alternative theory?'

'An alternative, you say?'

'Well, a complimentary theory then.'

'What do you mean?'

'You said that you were working on the same project so why don't you tell me.'

'There was no alternative theory!' Idiacoz was becoming tired of Silvacolla's games. 'Why?' she asked, 'You've never met the Professor in your life, have you?'

Silvacolla answered as if mimicking Farockaway's voice, 'These lights - amazing - probably some of the most beautiful things that there are in the universe. The SkyLights are a source of both electrical energy and information; maybe, they are the key to an ability to predict the future.'

Idiacoz sighed then said, 'That's more or less it. Anything else?'

'The project was interrupted because of an alien presence,' said Silvacolla.

'No, it wasn't,' Idiacoz told him falsely.

'So how would I know that then?'

It was dark now and Idiacoz lay back again. She was tired. They could sort it out later.

Silvacolla continued to stare upwards. 'You know… These lights - amazing probably some of the most beautiful things that there are in the universe...'

'Well, in at least our solar system…' she corrected him. Idiacoz was past caring whether Silvacolla was an impostor; indeed she reasoned that he was her only chance of getting information about Farockaway. 'Is he dead?' she asked bluntly.

'You say he's in hiding so there's no reason to suspect he's dead – unless he's been found of course.'

'I'm afraid, actually' Idiacoz admitted

Silvacolla sighed heavily. 'All right then,' he said standing up, 'We'll have to find him. I'll believe your story about the Goggles and the message. Farockaway's project was meant to solve the mystery of those lights up there. These lights – amazing – prob…'

Idiacoz noted that Silvacolla was repeating the same sentence at regular intervals. It began to disturb her but she didn't want to mention it yet, so she said, 'Everyone knows that.'

Silvacolla had a theory. 'I think that what Farockaway saw – and I don't know what it was - affected him, made him go slightly… mad, eccentric, due to sleep loss or overwork or who knows?'

'He seemed okay the last time I saw him. I know him well but we didn't see each other all the time, just that…'

'He was always a bit… you know the type…,' explained Silvacolla. 'I think something happened and I… I know he needed a holiday… but whatever it was made the difference… I think…'

'Where would he go? Where would you go if you were the Professor?'

'I doubt we'll find him if he doesn't want to be found – unless…'

'Unless what?'

'Unless he's dead. If what you say about the Goggles is true…'

'It is…'

'I'll need to see them…'

'Of course, but I don't have them with me.'

'Where then?'

Chapter 35

The Doctor and Ace had no idea where to go and just to make matters worse, they realised that the entire complex was bound to be under surveillance. There was surely no escape for them. And the Doctor seemed to be dazed as if he'd been on strong medication or was drunk. He slurred his speech and seemed listless.

They ran to the end of a corridor; there seemed no way out.

'A dead end,' said Ace stating the obvious.

'This way,' urged the Doctor pointing at the only possible exit, which was back from where they had come.

The Doctor and Ace ran, alarm bells rang, yet no-one seemed to be chasing them. Five more minutes of running and, although they seemed to be nearing a possible exit, they still hadn't seen a single guard. Then, even more unexpectedly but to their relief, the alarm bells suddenly stopped.

'Have we lost them?' suggested Ace.

The Doctor appeared perplexed.

'You mean, Have they lost us?'

She gritted her teeth. 'Please, Doctor!'

'For the time being, it seems. But are they watching us now? Cameras and so on? Hidden somewhere?' He gave a little wave. 'It doesn't make sense.'

'Perhaps they've found The Owner.'

'Right. Yes, right. If he hadn't just been vaporised there and then, you mean. But what about the guards?'

'They might suspect The Owner of killing them, given the mental state he appeared to be in.'

'I doubt that – it'll be pinned on us, I suspect.' He looked around them. 'Maybe, just maybe, we can walk out of here unchallenged.'

'Are you sure?'

'The point is to keep people out, not imprison them. We can but try.'

Sure enough, Ace and the Doctor took the lift back to the security gate, smiled and waved at the security woman, and left the complex. They turned the corner out of sight. And then they ran.'

A couple of minutes later the Doctor, panting heavily, said, 'Let's hide here for a while,' and they stopped behind a wall.

'Are you all right?' said Ace

'I'll be fine,' replied the Doctor.

'You could do with a spell in the gym.'

'I'm old. What do you expect?'

'You've got two hearts – you should be fitter than me.'

'Never mind that now,' said the Doctor. 'I don't know how it all happened.'

'What? You mean all the lights and stuff?'

'All I did was take out the sonic screwdriver,' he pleaded

'Did you electrocute him with it?'

'No, it was just a scan – the plasma bubble came from something else. Did you see it? It seemed to come from him!'

'Well, it's a different planet after all – the atmospherics are different, the pressure and so on. You should see some of the storms they have here?' she enthused.

'What's that got to do with what we're talking about?' the Doctor enquired.

'Freak weather and conditions. Plasma clouds, lightening,' Ace spoke quickly.

'I imagine that when they look at the surveillance tapes, they're going to see me pulling out a weapon, putting it to The Owner's head and then everyone dying – apart from us! None of it looks good. That woman shouting like that. I don't like being accused of murder.'

'Just relax, don't try to think about it…' Ace was trying to calm the Doctor down. She had rarely seen him so anxious.

'But I don't understand what's happened?'

'You're just in a state of shock that's all…' said Ace. 'Just rest there.'

'Shock…?'

'Just relax,' she insisted.

'I've been here before you know,' said the Doctor, with a tinge of regret in his voice. 'They'll all think I've done it… and what's to say that I didn't?

'You didn't have a weapon?'

The Doctor thought about it, frowned then said, 'Good point… Yes… That will be a key point in my defence.'

'Doctor… I think you may have banged your head… Just forget anything else now… Just relax.'

'Yes… but that woman – she thought it was me. She was shouting for help…'

'Shsh–Shsh, Doctor… Just relax.'

'I've been framed before you know…'

'I know…'

'On Galifrey, you know…' the Doctor's voice was weary.

'You shot the President. I know, you told me,' said Ace.

'I didn't shoot him… I was framed.'

'Yes, Doctor…'

'You believe me don't you?'

'Yeah,' said Ace, looking around her, 'Of course… Now just lie down and rest. Try to get some sleep.'

'Because time isn't constant – the idea that the future has already happened and the past is yet to happen… Because the light we see in the night sky can be billions of years old… what relevance is time in the sequential order…? So, I think that the images, not only contain the light that reflects what has already happened, but also, could tell us something about what will happen in the future – or at least could happen. I appreciate this must be hard to follow.'

'It was The Owner who suggested that there could be a singularity which is then dispersed and fractured into the SkyLights we see so often. Whilst it would be easy to dismiss this as the musings of an amateur, there might be something in it...'

'So, what was necessary was a cover for the Project. The SkyLights mystery was soon understood. Amazingly, we can make predictions about the future and there is some reflection of the past but the technology required to decode it all is probably impossible to build. It would be a risky venture. These are only theories, which need to be tested; however, if research on echoes from the past is well-developed, why not investigate Future Echoes.'

'And he said to me, "What would you say if I told you that our distant neighbours might have the technology to decode the SkyLights?"'

'I wouldn't know what to say.'

'He took me by the arm – which I always hate – and said that The Maggz might have that technology.'

'I said that even if the Maggz really did have the technology, how would they get it here and secondly, how had they even arrived at such a level? Also, how do we know that the technology that works there would work with our solar system what with its two suns? And, because of the huge distances between our system and theirs and the inability to return in a single lifespan and all the other problems… But he interrupted me and said he could take care of everything. He was friends with the Maggz and they could reach an agreement.'

Chapter 36

Silvacolla and Idiacoz were heading to Farockaway's living quarters.

'It doesn't look a very impressive building,' said Silvacolla as they sat discreetly nearby.

'What were you expecting?' she replied.

'I don't know… Something less… sparse… I suppose.'

'He never invited you here?'

'No,' said Silvacolla. 'Should he have?'

'I've been many times,' she said.

Silvacolla was in a reflective mood. 'If I remember well, Farockaway didn't seem to need any creature comforts. He rarely stopped working – even on social occasions, his mind would still be active, working out theories and puzzles. It was as if, when his body left the labs, a part of his mind remained there.'

Idiacoz paused. 'What I don't get,' she stated, 'is how you know so many small details about Farockaway yet you didn't know about this place.'

'Well… did you? Or did you just say that?'

'No,' she replied looking around.

'No, what?'

Idiacoz was getting ever more frustrated. 'No, I didn't just make it up – I really have been to this place many times, parties, meals, just a chat, you know…'

'I'm sorry,' said Silvacolla. 'I feel like I've had a bang on the head and have lost a large chunk of my memory. It's there inside somewhere but… it's hard to explain. There are things on the tip of my tongue but I can't remember. Other things, as you say, I seem to recall in great detail. He was a remarkable person.'

Idiacoz's had a sudden realisation. 'Why do you use the past tense to talk about him?' she asked.

Silvacolla looked startled. 'I didn't know I did,' he said.

Idiacoz nodded to confirm that he did indeed.

Silvacolla looked fazed. 'I just don't believe that I'll ever see him again, that's all,' he finally said, tearfully.

'Why not?' asked Idiacoz, who instantly regretted the banality of her question but had been taken back at how, Silvacolla's tearfulness seemed forced.

'Everything you've told me leads to the conclusion that we're all in great danger. The question is what danger and from whom?'

'We don't have much choice but to… I mean… We've got to find out.'

'How do we get in?'

Idiacoz winked at Silvacolla. 'I told you I'd been here before' she said and they walked to the building.

Once inside and having checked there was no-one else there, Silvacolla smiled and sat down. Just as he said the words, 'It was…' Idiacoz glared at him, 'Listen!' she said.

A silence fell in the building. After hearing nothing, Silvacolla said, 'So?'

'Shhh…' urged Idiacoz, raising a finger to her lips.

'What?' whispered Silvacolla.

'A noise…' Let's not get carried away. Just when everything is nice and relaxed…

'What?!' said Silvacolla, with mild irritation and a hint of contempt.

'Ssshh!'

'I can't hear anything,' he insisted.

Idiacoz shushed him again, and then said, 'Let's get out of here.'

'How?' said Silvacolla, appearing worried, despite having heard precisely nothing.

'There's only one other way out of here,' she said.

'Are you sure?' asked Silvacolla.

What a stupid question, thought Idiacoz. 'Of course I'm sure! Do you have that weapon?'

Silvacolla had to think about it. 'No.'

'What do you mean no? What about the pyramid thing?'

'What pyramid thing?'

'The thing you used on me.'

'What thing?' Silvacolla had no idea what she was talking about.

'You pulled out a traction gun or something on me – shaped like a pyramid.'

'Oh. That?'

'Yes, that. It's in the Pod, I suppose.'

'Yes, it is.'

'If we can get hold of it somehow…?'

'It won't do any good,' he told her.

'And why not?'

'It's just a pyramid shape. I was bluffing.'

Idiacoz mouthed a profanity, which is only offensive in her own language and can't be translated in less than thirty words in any other language in the universe, apart from those languages that don't have gaps between words – or sentences – because they are purely mathematical or else image-based telepathy. In languages that use odours, it would have made a terrible stench!

'There might be something here,' he replied.

'Something? Anything!' said Idiacoz her voice low.

This time, whatever noise Idiacoz had already heard, was picked up by Silvacolla. 'I believe you,' he said with a tremor.

'Thanks!' replied Idiacoz.

The pair crouched but were not actually going anywhere so when Silvacolla whispered, 'Wait!' Idiacoz turned and caustically demanded to know, 'What?!'

'The Waste Pod.'

There was a long pause. 'We won't fit through it,' said Idiacoz, thinking Silvacolla was referring to some sort of pipe or cavity. 'Are you mad?'

'It's a vehicle,' he told her.

'A vehicle? Good,' she said, 'but I thought…'

At that moment, there was another noise, like the sound of people just outside. Whatever was making these sounds had got twice as close.

'The Waste Pod will get us out of here but I don't know how far.'

'I don't care.'

'And we might get shot on the way.'

'Come on.'

Silvacolla kept crouching but was no longer on all-fours, 'Quick. Follow me,' he whispered.

The Waste Pod was simply a mobile rubbish bin. You threw your rubbish away as normal and when the bin was full it would take itself off to be emptied into a larger pod and the same process would occur, but on a much larger scale automated down the line.

'Hop on!' said Silvacolla, attaching a device found in the quarters onto the bin shaped Pod.

'Do you know how to drive this thing?' whispered Idiacoz.

'No,' he replied as the machine glided slowly towards the entrance/exit of Farockaway's quarters.

For some reason, Idiacoz had expected the Waste Pod to be making lots of noise, without reasoning that its silence would be a key factor in its popularity. Like normal Pods, the Waste Pod was a simple hovercraft that created a cushion of air to glide across. 'Fantastic! Keep going!' she said, looking behind her as the exit doors slid open and then closed. 'No-one's following us.'

Silvacolla was only interested in looking forwards and sure enough, once the Waste Pod picked up speed, it got them away from the building quickly. They travelled onwards some more until they felt sure that they were in the clear.

'Well done,' Idiacoz said, 'but how did you do that?' she asked. 'How did you make it go so fast?

'It was one of The Scientists hobbies: hotwiring everyday machines to do tasks for which they weren't intended.'

'Yes, it was,' she recalled. 'So you are who you claim to be. Come on, let's dispose of this.'

The Waste Pod came to a standstill and Silvacolla set the device he'd attached to the Waste Pod to take it as far away as from them possible. 'In theory, a Waste Pod can be identified and tracked,' he explained. 'So now we'll have to double-back.'

Silvacolla and Idiacoz held hands as he led her across rough terrain and into the entrance of a giant metal pipe. 'We'll be safe here,' he told her.

'A pipe? Are you sure?'

'Got any better ideas?'

'None.'

'And if we've been tagged somehow, the metal of this pipe should keep them from tracing us.'

The pair walked down the pipe and then climbed up a ladder. 'How do you know where to go?' Idiacoz asked him.

'I don't,' replied Silvacolla. 'It all looks familiar… yet… I have no idea.'

Idiacoz rubbed her eyes and sat. Silvacolla joined her. 'Who are they?' she said.

'You tell me,' said Silvacolla.

'Police, secret services, rivals? I don't know.'

'It has all their hallmarks.'

'But letting us escape on a Waste Pod? If that was the authorities, surely, they could have stopped us. They didn't even try. Why not a blockade?'

'You're asking the wrong person.'

'Yeah, but we just sailed out of the front door… I mean, someone was there and should surely have barred our exit, or at least given chase…'

'To be honest, I'm not that bothered – we're here now.'

'Well, Farockaway got us into this and his invention got us out.'

'He was crazy sometimes,' said Silvacolla smiling to himself.

'You're right about the inventions,' agreed Idiacoz. 'I remember when I was little and we went to his lab. He had a washing machine that was programmed to make his favourite piece of music with combinations of spin and drain and so on – low hums and high spins… pointless but that's what he was like… Gave it away in the end, too. Swapped it for another washing machine…'

'Yes, it wasn't the final product that interested him; it was the challenge – to see what could be done with the means around him. It was a quest for knowledge.'

'A waste pod that breaks the speed-limit? What use is that?' she said.

'Well, it's come in handy, hasn't it?'

'I suppose the question is: what's the point of a slow Waste Pod?'

Silvacolla said, 'I'm not so sure that we'll be safe here. We weren't chased, which normally means they have a trace on us.'

'I thought you said…'

A sound echoed along the metal pipe as if it came from the entrance. Then another.

'All right, let's keep going then,' said Idiacoz. 'And quickly!'

Chapter 37

Ace was well ahead of the Doctor as they reached the Leaderless Collective. 'Come on Doctor,' she urged. 'Nearly there.'

'I'm exhausted,' said the Doctor

'You'll be all right,' said Ace encouragingly.

The last door eased itself open and the Doctor quite literally staggered inside.

'Just lie down and relax…' Ace advised him.

There was a buzzing sound and again the Doctor put on his Goggles.

'Welcome, Doctor.' said Spessogack.

'I take it you know what's happened already…'

'It's my job to know, Doctor…' He raised an eyebrow.

'Well? What do you want? You're coming to arrest me, I suppose.'

'Arrest?'

'Yes, we've been tricked – framed – set up…'

'You have caused quite a stir, Doctor. And yes, I'm afraid that everyone does seem to think you've killed The Owner.'

'It was his bodyguards…'

'His bodyguards? Ha! I don't think so.'

'Well, it wasn't me!'

'That's not what everyone thinks though, is it?'

'I was there and… '

'Well, unfortunately, there is a recording of you hanging round The Owner's quarters, deviously trying to introduce yourself and the sound of a battle, which has left a number of deaths and a scorched patch where The Owner was standing. I've got my own copy…'

'There's no way you believe it was me though, do you?'

'Why not Doctor?'

'You wouldn't be speaking to me now, in this tone, and playing games if you believed me to be guilty. What is it you want?'

Spessogack showed clear disappointment that his bluff had been called. 'Very well, Doctor. We know it wasn't you.'

'So who was it? How did it happen?'

'Well you weren't armed, for a start. You were only scanning The Owner with your sonic device. The amount of energy created is quite mild…'

There was a pause as the two stared at one another's image on display.

Spessogack pushed his fingertips together. 'What did The Owner really expect? He should have brought his own staff with him, not hired them locally. Someone got wind of his location and… Puff! Perhaps that's what's happened?'

'Yes, I get the picture…' said the Doctor. Now if you don't mind, I need to rest.'

'Rest, Doctor?'

'Yes, I'm feeling a bit drowsy. I need to lie down somewhere. We Time Lords need lots of sleep you know.'

'Lie down, Doctor? You're wanted for murdering The Owner. The data is already available to all. There might even be a bounty on offer.'

'Are you going to tell me what you want or what?'

'You didn't think I would let you get very far away, did you?'

'You didn't trust me - that's hardly a surprise, is it?'

'Trust, Doctor?' Spessogack had a stern expression as if he was about to deliver bad news. 'I expected you to find The Owner and bring him back but instead, you've gone and complicated things.'

'Why didn't you just go and get him yourself, then?' said the Doctor, hand on forehead, sitting then standing angrily.

'I thought you were going to be a little more discreet and not attract attention.'

'Or was it that you knew this would happen and were willing to sacrifice me on the front line?'

'Really, Doctor…'

'Well, that's it for me… job done… We'll be off. I mean, if it is all the same to you…'

'Oh, no you don't doctor - you're in big trouble now! You owed me for rescuing you and now you owe me even more. You're a fugitive, Doctor. You're on the run. This time the rescue doesn't come cheaply.'

'I can give you the slip any time I like.'

'I doubt it.'

'Try me?' the Doctor grinned as if he relished the challenge.

'You won't run – that's even if you could get to your spaceship up here. But you won't run - not if everyone thinks you're guilty. You'll stay to clear your name. Just like last time.'

There was a very long pause. The two men stared without speaking. How does Spessogack know about that? The Doctor was starting to get a good idea.

He finally spoke. 'If it's all the same to you… I won't hang around.'

'If you run Doctor, you'll be both a fugitive and a coward…!' Something in the way Spessogack said those words sounded familiar and a chill ran through his spine.

'Who cares?' he said, feigning indifference. 'When you reach my age, you cease to be quite so image conscious…'

'That's the difference between you and I Doctor. It always has been.'

The patronising tone, the conceit, the arrogance, the loaded statements - it all sounded so familiar to him but in his present state the Doctor was still finding it hard to concentrate.

'Because of your bungling, there is very soon going to be a state of emergency on Sirosan-2 not just on Sirosan. And I am going to have to do something about it. I'll have to take control - through proxy – we can't very well admit the secret services are running the moon, can we? Not officially… but that's what I'll have to do in reality.'

'Oh, that'll be so terrible for you…' the Doctor chirped.

'The alternative will be chaos…'

'So?'

'Nature abhors a vacuum…'

'Karl Marx…' said the Doctor

'I'm sorry.'

'Nothing… Old drinking pal of mine…'

'Well, your old drinking pal, as you call him, would know that other forces will attempt to exploit this… tragic loss…'

'Not my problem…'

'You don't want to know who or what really killed The Owner? You don't want to know who is trying to frame you?'

'Isn't it you?'

'Isn't it me what?'

The Doctor hated to have to spell it out. 'Isn't it you who is trying to frame me?'

There was a long silence on the part of Spessogack.

'Well? Do I take your silence as consent?'

Spessogack nodded his head. 'Montented,' he said.

'Who?'

'Montented. For some time now, Montented has been campaigning against The Owner …'

'I know, I know. But you expect me to believe that?'

'Not really.'

'I don't know this Montented. It isn't anyone else, who demanded I come down to this wretched planet and find The Owner. That was you! It wasn't Montented who kidnapped Ace to make sure I followed her.'

Again there was a long pause from Spessogack before he said, 'I agree Doctor, but it wasn't me who took out a weapon, placed it to the Owner's head and vaporised him along half a dozen of his guards.'

'You know that's not true.'

'What I'm saying Doctor is that the case against you is compelling – all the evidence points to you as a deadly assassin. And all you've got to say for yourself – in your pitiful defence – will be that I have set you up because I asked you to find The Owner. Who will believe you?'

The Doctor stared angrily but inside he knew Spessogack had a point.

'Besides Doctor, it wouldn't be the first time, would it?'

'Who are you?' the Doctor demanded.

'You know who I am.'

'Who are you really? How come you know so much about me? Or who are you working for?'

'I work for Sirosan-2 and its people. A democratic…'

'What? In the name of democracy? How dare you?'

'Doctor, if you want to know who is behind this assassination, then you must seek out Montented. He's the one who set you up. Why don't you ask your assistant about her involvement with Montented?'

Ace looked bewildered. 'But that was just a documentary,' she said.

The Doctor turned to Ace. 'Tell me more.'

'All I know is that Montented like The Owner ad no fan of democracy either. He just wants to be a bigger Owner.'

'Perhaps Montented tracked your assistant or someone found out what you were doing, where you were going and why.'

Ace shrugged her shoulders. 'You mean, I've been bugged?'

'Bugged or tracked or some sort of surveillance has been used on you. Perhaps, you had something about your person that set off the plasma bubble.'

'No, it didn't come from us,' said the Doctor.

'Well, that's for you to find out. But Doctor, if you want to accuse me and find me guilty and let Montented off the hook, at least find a way to eliminate him from your enquiries. Can you prove that he didn't do it? You can talk the talk, but let's see you walk the walk.'

'There's something familiar about you,' said the Doctor, 'and when I find out what it is, I suspect that neither of us is going to like it very much.'

'Do you want the latest news?'

'If you must.'

'We believe that Montented has been plotting a coup for some time now – undermining The Owner, using resentment on the other moons… Perhaps this is the beginning of his takeover. The point is that Montented will benefit from The Owner's death. There's your motive for a start.'

'Surely, it's wrong for one person to be allowed to own a whole moon, whoever it is.'

'Whether it is or whether it is not, my job is to protect the status quo and that means protecting The Owner - if he was still alive.'

'You said you worked for the people. Or is that just the people who pay the most?'

'Let me tell you one thing: The Owner worked hard for his wealth. He had a vision and he put it into practice. If he hadn't purchased the moon and built everything on it… we'd all be in a worse state. Ours is what I'd like to imagine is a benevolent dictatorship. That's much better than a mean democracy!'

'No such thing!'

'Like it or otherwise – that's what we have here.'

'Tell us what you know about this Montented then.'

'He'll be worse than The Owner – believe me.'

'In what way?'

'He'll stop at nothing to take power.'

'Go on.'

'Well, you've seen what's happened?'

'Are you really saying that this Montented is responsible for liquidating The Owner?'

'Not 'responsible', no.'

'But implicated?'

'Implicated? No.'

'Excuse me,' began Ace with a hint of sarcasm, 'You're not making much sense. Have I missed something?'

Spessogack made a reluctant sigh. 'Montented ran part of the state apparatus before pollution became a big issue. He is responsible for much of the degradation we see around us today. They point the finger at The Owner's businesses but Montented's are far worse.'

'How?' asked Ace, pleased to find that he appeared to be taking her questions seriously.

'He was responsible,' said Spessogack, unhelpfully.

'I still don't get it,' said Ace. She turned to the Doctor who looked back at her and she said, 'I don't get it either.'

Spessogack urged. 'Montented is the one to watch Doctor. He set you up. To everyone, it looks clear what has happened – you were caught red handed. The other question remaining will be whether one of you or both of you, is in the pay of Montented.'

'I wasn't paid,' said Ace.

'Even worse then,' said Spessogack.'

The Doctor now interrupted. 'Thank you, thank you. I think we've understood the picture. Now that we've found The Owner, we have to find out who has killed The Owner.'

'Precisely, Doctor.'

The conversation continued for little longer and when Spessogack was gone, Ace said to the Doctor, 'I thought he'd never leave'.

'I know what you mean…'

'He kept dropping hints, without ever saying what he thought.'

'The universe is made up of hints,' said the Doctor walking towards her.

'Here we go!' said Ace sighing.

The Doctor ignored her. 'It's one giant…'

'… Puzzle!' Ace interrupted. 'Yes. That's all very interesting but he doesn't exactly want to help us.'

'Typical bureaucratic mentality. We'll just have to find out ourselves, won't we?' The Doctor, walked towards the exit.

'Where are you going?' called Ace, 'You can't go out. You'll be recognised immediately and arrested!'

The Doctor pulled out a facemask. 'Even with this?' he asked.

'You are joking aren't you?' warned Ace. 'There'll be looking for you. A face-mask won't hide your identity. Spessogack said that the images and data taken at the scene will be posted everywhere…'

'Actually, it's for the pollution. There's one for you too,' and he held it out for her.

Ace took the mask. 'Where did you get these?' she asked.

'Never mind. Look, I can't stay here now, can I? I've got to get to the bottom of this. Now are you coming or not?'

Ace bent down to tie a shoelace. 'All right,' she said half-heartedly. 'Wait for me.'

Ace felt that the door opened and closed with a reluctance like her own. 'Where now?' she asked curtly on reaching the outdoors.

'This way…' said the Doctor, pointing and moving. 'What I can't understand is this: Why would Spessogack want me to think it was Montented?'

'Maybe because it was Montented?'

'Come on,' he urged.

'I still haven't understood. Where are we going?' Ace said impatiently.

'I have a hunch,' he replied and spent the return journey to the surface explaining himself to Ace.

Just as the Doctor stepped from the tunnel to the outside world,' a soldier stepped in front of him and said, 'Halt!'

They looked at one another in surprise. With the soldiers pointing weapons, the Doctor and Ace began to slowly raise their arms.

'Don't make any sudden moves or try to escape,' said the first soldier. 'We've got you covered!'

Confoundedly, the Doctor said, 'You took your time.'

'I must detain you and take you for questioning!' said the soldier. He turned to another behind him. 'See if they are alone or whether there are any other Leaderless-types around.'

'Well, thank heavens for that,' replied the Doctor nonchalantly. 'It saves me a lot of bother.'

Ace's mouth fell open. 'You're happy about this…?' she asked. 'You wanted to be detained?'

'No-one wants to be… as such.' The Doctor didn't intend to give his plans away just yet. 'Look, can you just keep quiet a moment,' he urged.

'Just forget I said anything, will you?' sniped Ace as she was led away first.

The Doctor resisted the guards who were pushing him, just for a moment. Just to leave some space between himself and Ace...

Chapter 38

Colluxx began working as interrogator in the reorganisations that followed the end of the Dirty War. The 'profession' and its methods had been discredited during the dictatorship and a decision was made to bring in new staff who were untainted by what had gone before. The old staff were to be pensioned off.

The new government laid down rules about how to carry out interrogation or more to the point what not to do, which outlawed not only the previous abuses – another name for torture in this case – but also new ways of extracting information from captives. Critics commented that the new government was looking for, 'A more humane way of torturing opponents'.

Colluxx had trained as a psychiatrist and had specialized in helping trauma victims, particularly children and she had no intention of working for the government. As the result of a 'What would you have instead?' discussion, she later became convinced that there was a need to take a psychological approach to interrogation; otherwise the new department risked going back to the bad old days and its methods. It's better to do it properly and minimise the damage than not carry out interrogations at all, she reasoned. As a result of her interest and her proposals, she was given funding for a research project into new, humane, forms of interrogation.

The term 'Dirty War' referred to a period in which the previous regime had been responsible for the illegal detention, torture and murder or forced disappearance of between three-million and five-million people on Sirosan.

Following on from weak civilian governments, economic decline and military interventionism, the philosopher, Dithronover had returned from exile and was elected, backed by a broad coalition that ranged from liberals in the centre to fascists on the right and radicals on the left. At first, the new government was welcomed as a Grand Coalition of Planetary Unity to put Sirosan back on its feet. However, in common with most opposition politicians, once in power, Dithronover could no longer be all things to all people.

He eventually resigned leave his vice-president Cacrothex, to deal with the ensuing violent struggle between his right and left-wing supporters, both of which claimed to be his political heir, as well as an uprising on some of the moons. As a result, the democratic government of Cacrothex issued a decree ordering the military to 'neutralize' the insurgency.

The planet was to become a stage for widespread violence. Death squads used their hunt for environmental guerrillas as a pretext to exterminate all ideological opponents. Assassinations and kidnappings contributed to the general climate of fear. A decree was issued creating a Defence Council headed by the president including his ministers and the military chiefs and its mission was to exterminate the guerrillas.

Conservatives, including some of the wealthy elite, encouraged the military in preparing its coup, by making lists of people to be 'dealt with' afterwards. Cacrothex, under pressure from the military establishment, appointed Muss as Commander-In-Chief of the military.

'As many people as necessary must die on Sirosan so that the planet will again be secure', Muss declared in support of the death squads. Muss was one of the military heads of the coup d'état that eventually overthrew Cacrothex and in her place, a military junta was installed, headed by General Canifer.

One of his generals predicted, 'We are going to have to kill ten-million people: half of them will be subversives, a quarter will be sympathizers, and a-million mistakes is the price we are prepared to pay.' The victims included not just armed guerrilla fighters, whose organizations were virtually liquidated, but anyone believed to be associated with radical front groups, including workers organisation members, students and people believed to hold left-wing views. Other deaths were attributable to death squads associated with the Cacrothex regime prior to the coup. The guerrillas were also responsible for many deaths during this period, plus many more kidnapping. Some victims were even released on lunar surfaces to suffocate and explode, as a warning.

Rife with corruption, unpopular and inefficient, the dictatorship collapsed and democracy returned with Dulip who, although unelected himself, was a technocrat, charged with setting up new democratic structures to replace the military.

Since the end of dictatorship, many ex-military, politicians and journalists tried to justify these crimes as either regrettable or 'inevitable excesses' caused by the nature of the enemy, which, they said, employed the same tactics. Opponents of this theory talked of a deliberate strategy of tension.

The result of Colluxx's research was a three volume work on the subject of Interrogation. In keeping with the 'new' outlook, the Interrogation Manual was renamed the Interrogation Brochure.

'Goals for interrogators are information gathering, determining whether a prisoner is telling the truth and if not, identifying the deception method. When a prisoner is speaking, interrogators should be capable of detecting deception.'

She decided that in most cases, it was not necessary to force confessions, but develop a sufficient rapport to prompt a prisoner to disclose information.'

'Interrogation methods of include deception, torture and using mind-altering substances. Methods have traditionally included sleep deprivation, noise pollution and other drugs. Requiring interrogators to observe body language is not viable but deception is a central part of grilling. Extreme cold and heat, and 'stress positions' have also been used.'

Colluxx also spoke to those who, during the Dirty Wars, had learnt to resist interrogation techniques like humiliation and even torture. These included hooding, sleep deprivation, time disorientation, nakedness, humiliation and deprivation of food and fluids. 'The objective for a prisoner is often to buy time because information only had a temporary tactical value,' she concluded.

After much painstaking research and observation, Colluxx finally reached the conclusion that interrogation worked best when one simply took a prisoner and asked questions, irrespective of the general approach but that there were limits to this.

Torture, she reasoned not only brought little useful information but was also counterproductive. She concluded that the point of torture interrogation during the Dirty War wasn't to get information or punish the enemy but to put fear into ordinary people whilst making them believe the dictatorship was doing it to protect them. Much of the torture during the Dirty Wars, she alleged, had no wider purpose at all and existed simply to satisfy the perversions of those who administered it – people who should have no place in the 'interrogation profession' as she called it. For Colluxx, this profession was a viable and realistic tool, whilst torture was not only barbaric but pointless nonsense.

The Detention Centre on Planet Sirosan was a padded cell featuring a monitor screen – and camera – on the ceiling. The interior was in pale blue, designed to calm those who passed through. It was into two separate holding chambers that Idiacoz and Silvacolla were led.

'Brilliant!' Idiacoz had said sarcastically when they were captured. 'I thought you said we were safe.'

'I thought we'd shaken them off. They must have tracked us.'

'Or the Pod…'

'More likely, yes…'

From that moment, the two had been separated into different cells but were now, surprised to find themselves allowed to communicate via a monitor.

'Right, you two,' said a voice coming from speakers in each ceiling. 'I'm here to get some answers. You won't be going anywhere until I get what I want. Right? There's nothing you can do about it so you had better cooperate.'

Idiacoz stared at the image of Silvacolla in the corner of her screen.

'And you work for Pigmal, I presume,' Silvacolla said.

The interrogator's voice was firm. 'I'm the one who's asking the questions here, right? Not you. Got that?'

'Well, technically it wasn't a question,' he said.

'Well, technically, I'm going to be answering and you're going to be asking, right.'

'I think you mean…'

'I know what I mean,' yelled Colluxx adding an 'All right,' for good measure.

'What are you going to do with us?' said Idiacoz.

'Are you listening or what?' shouted Colluxx. 'I told you that I am the one, who's asking the questions.'

'What do you want to know?' asked Idiacoz.

'Are you going to stop trying to do my job or what?'

'Can we just get on with it?' asked Silvacolla.

'I said I ask the questions. Right. That's it! Shut it! …. What are you two doing here?'

Neither prisoner replied.

'Who's going to be the first to answer?' said the interrogator.

There was still no reply.

'Come on! What's it going to be? You might think you can resist but you won't be able to.'

'Don't answer, Idiacoz. Don't say anything!' called Silvacolla.

'What have you got to hide?' asked Colluxx.

'Look…' began Idiacoz.

'I told you,' Silvacolla interrupted. 'NOTHING! Nothing at all.'

'But…'

'Are you listening to me?' he repeated.

'Oi! I'm the one who asks the questions. Were you listening or what?'

'Nothing,' repeated Silvacolla.

'What's that?' asked Colluxx.

'I said…' he began.

'Come on!' she urged him.

'I said, "Nothing!" Don't say a word to her.'

Colluxx looked angry. 'You think you're so clever don't you?'

'I don't wish to say anything for the moment,' he said.

'What about your little friend? What's your name?'

'My name? It's…'

'What did I tell you?' warned Silvacolla.

'But it's an innocuous question…' said Idiacoz

'All the more reason not to answer it then.'

'Why?'

'Because that's how she'll catch you out; with a simple question or statement.'

Colluxx interrupted again. 'Yes, it's clear to me that you've got something to hide.'

'Don't mention it…'

'My name…' said Idiacoz.

'Yes?'

'My name,' she repeated.

'Go on.'

'… is none of your business.'

Silvacolla laughed out loud.

'I might have to deal with you two separately,' warned Colluxx.

'What are you going to do to us?' Idiacoz demand to know. 'I have nothing to tell you - even if you torture me.'

'Torture?' the interrogator laughed, 'No, we don't do torture.' It's old fashioned and it doesn't work.'

'What then?' asked Idiacoz, as if there might be something worse than torture.

'Now that would be telling, wouldn't it?'

Idiacoz had read once that there was a subtle distinction between torture and abuse. Of course, if you were the victim, that difference might not appear so large; but if you were the torturer, calling it 'abuse' might make sure that you eventually got away with it.

'You see, torture doesn't work,' repeated Colluxx, 'Because you'll just end up confessing to anything. You won't know your own mind. I want to know your mind. I want answers not pathetic pleas for mercy.'

'So what's the big idea then, Silvacolla?' Idiacoz wanted to know.

'You think I know?' he answered

Colluxx predictably told them off. 'I thought, I told you two not to ask questions.'

'You live here Silvacolla!' shouted Idiacoz angrily.

'So? You live up there,' said Silvacolla. 'Do you know everything that goes on up there?'

Colluxx made a note, 'So you're from up there then? Where would that be? Which moon?'

There was no reply. She tried a few more lines of questioning but if anything the sources were more confident, not less.

It didn't help her concentration that during the interrogation, Colluxx was contacted on three occasions for a report although it was becoming clear to her that they had the wrong people. As soon as she had finished, she contacted the man who was, unofficially at least, her boss.

'Got the info?' he asked.

'Of course.'

'And…?'

'I'm sending it to you now. There's not much to tell.'

'I see,' said the man.

'Thank you,' replied Colluxx.

'What did you use?' he asked.

'I just slow-gassed them with a truth drug and something to make them light-hearted and got them to argue between themselves – always my favourite – slow but you get more information that way.'

'Well done,' he said. 'Thank you again.'

Just as they were about to end the conversation, Colluxx said, 'By the way…'

'What is it?' the man responded, seemingly irritated.

'What to do with them now?'

'Well… I think we can release them but they ought to be tailed. To tell you the truth I think what happened was that some of the idiots at the Complex just picked up the first people they saw in the area that matched the description of a couple and followed them. That's all very well but the idea is to trawl in as many couples as possible not just the first ones you find then stop looking.'

'I suppose they aren't trained police, are they?' she said, smiling and nodding at the same time.

'They're amateur vigilante cowboys,' agreed Montented. 'Even I know about the woman – but who is this Silvacolla character? I'd have wagered that he was from one of the gangs.'

'Apparently not,' said Colluxx.

'Okay, well, thanks again,' said Montented and he closed the communication link.

The gas that Colluxx had used was discovered by chance as she studied truth drugs and serum substances used for the purposes of obtaining accurate information from an unwilling source. Colluxx found that:

'Information obtained by truth drugs is highly unreliable, as prisoners mix-up fact and fantasy. Truth drugs, like anaesthetics, have a recovery period. Some leave prisoners with nausea, disorientation, lack of balance, tiredness or other symptoms for a considerable time after being used.'

Colluxx would always use the Futility Approach at the beginning of a session to make the prisoner believe it was useless to resist. She gave some examples: 'you are not finished here until you answer the questions,' and 'everyone talks sooner or later.' Factual or seemingly factual information would be presented in a persuasive, logical way in a matter of fact tone, as if she wasn't up to the task. Making the situation appear hopeless allowed the prisoner to rationalize actions. Another way was to exaggerate things: 'You pretend that the other detainees have already cooperated.'

Like the truth gas, the futility approach needed to be combined with something else. 'It is used to paint a negative picture for the prisoner, but in itself it is not effective in gaining prisoner cooperation.'

Well, I was so angry because I'd worked so hard on this project. I don't have anything against the Maggz as such but I thought my work was for the benefit of Sirosan-2 in particular but also the entire Sirosan bi-solar system. True enough, The Owner has put in a lot of resources – I've wanted for little in my labs.

Of course I didn't show my anger but he could tell that I was upset. He said that if we have the theory and the Maggz have the technology, we should collaborate for the benefit of all. But sharing the theory is easy; sharing the technology will be more difficult. Will they also teach us how to build it, use it and all of the other problems that will occur?

Besides, what is the whole point of being able to predict the future? Still, I'm just a scientist… leave it to the policy makers…

But then another thought came to me and that was this: why is The Owner of an entire moon and someone with stakes in others, suddenly keen on the idea of sharing? Why think he's suddenly become someone who cares about others? That would be a first! It makes no sense…'

'And then I realised that if we had regeneration we could make the future, not watch it. What would be the sense of that? Who is to say that the SkyLights hold a true version of the future? Maybe – and I know it sounds a long shot – but maybe the SkyLights, hold alternative versions of the future. I think we need to research more before handing over our theories to the Maggz in exchange for technology we don't know how to use.'

Chapter 39

The way Colluxx normally obtained the truth from detainees was to have them argue with one another under the influence of a gaseous substance. She preferred gas to injections because the latter by its nature tended to raise the fear the adrenaline factors of a prisoner. Her specific concoction made detainees light hearted and paranoid in turn and a slowly released truth drug vapour added a kick. Detainees would be expected to quarrel between themselves as they let their inhibitions go. In doing so, prisoners would take every argument to its logical conclusion and they would speak their minds out loud not realising whether they were using their internal or external 'voice'. It was an effective interrogation technique for groups and couples.

Despite the interrogation having ended long before, literally without either subject realising it had ever started properly, Idiacoz was still polemical. 'I DON'T CARE!' she yelled, 'I TRUSTED YOU AND YOU'VE TOLD HER EVERYTHING.'

'ME?' shouted Silvacolla, holding an accusing finger to his chest. 'YOU STARTED IT, TELLING HER YOUR NAME AND WHICH MOON YOU WERE FROM?'

'THAT'S NOTHING! THOSE AREN'T IMPORTANT THINGS.'

'THEY ARE - BECAUSE YOU LET HER GET INTO YOUR MIND.'

'BY GIVING HER MY NAME?' She laughed scathingly. 'YOU MUST BE JOKING!'

'Look, what's done is done,' said Silvacolla. 'We've been tricked.'

'YOU'VE been tricked,' she called out.

'They know everything that we know.'

'What will happen to us, now?' asked Idiacoz...

'That's a good question. They have no need of us now.'

'Well, look. I'm not waiting here to be disappeared, let's think of how we're going to get out of here.'

'Oh, yeah?'

'Better than just giving in,' she urged.

'How are you going to get out of this cell and how are we then going to get out of this building?' said Silvacolla, anger rising and falling within him.

'What's the alternative?'

'JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION!'

'I can't.'

'YOU WERE PRETTY GOOD AT ANSWERING QUESTIONS EARLIER, WEREN'T YOU?'

'So what?'

Silvacolla paused. He managed to realise that a drug or gas or something must still be influencing his behaviour. 'Okay… let's see…' he said but was interrupted by the door to his cell opening.

Chapter 40

'All right, Doctor?' said Colluxx from a monitor. 'It's a busy day today.' The coincidence of two couples having to be interrogated in quick succession wasn't lost on her.

'I must say that I much prefer this chamber to…'

She cut the Doctor short. 'We'll see what you've got to say when we've finished, shall we?'

'I was only going to compliment you on your hospitality.'

'Let's get first things first, shall we?'

The Doctor stopped talking and paid her attention.

'I ask the questions here. I'm the interrogator. Period!'

'Can't anyone else have a go?' asked the Doctor.

'No. I'm the interrogator and you are here to be interrogated. I always get what I want so why make it harder on us all?' She smiled pleasantly.

'It should be quite a challenge.' The Doctor rubbed his hands. 'I don't suppose there's any danger of you trying flattery to trick me into revealing all?'

'A joker, eh? We'll see how long it takes to stop you laughing.'

'No flattery then?'

'No.'

Ace didn't think that winding up someone, who described themselves as an interrogator was such a wonderful idea and she told the Doctor so.

'Flattery only works with a weak detainee who has feelings of inferiority,' Colluxx replied. 'I don't think that's the case here, is it?'

'Okay, why not move on to a Fear Up approach and convince me that the questions I have already answered have committed me and that further resistance is useless?'

'Further resistance is useless, Doctor.' She smiled, then laughed confidently.

'Or the Pride and Ego Up approach?' said the Doctor.

This guy is starting to irritate me already! Colluxx decided to leave her consol and speak to the prisoner in person. She ordered her staff to take them both to a single chamber where they were to be restrained physically.

Once ready, she swept through the doors of the chamber dramatically and clapped her hands. 'So you've read an interrogation manual, have you? Well, you're a little too intelligent for that approach then. But you must, surely, have the intelligence to realise, that ultimately you cannot resist.'

'I've been looked down upon by many different species over the years and that doesn't do much for anyone's ego, does it?' The Doctor turned to a more sarcastic tone. 'Please, Please, if you flatter me, I might let you know everything,' and he made childlike eyes.

'What would you like me to say to you?'

'Well, for a start, you should sound like you are in awe of me. Engender positive feelings on my part.' The Doctor used an even more melodramatic voice. 'Oh, I've been searching the entire universe for some recognition. Please!'

'What?' said Colluxx as feigning indifference. 'Your appearance, bearing, and so forth. I don't think so, Doctor.'

'So it's the Pride and Ego Down Approach, then? You're going to attack my sense of personal worth?'

'All right, all right Doctor. You've made your point! So you know about interrogation techniques. So what? You don't know them all. Besides, I think you'll find that one of them will work, sooner or later. I don't need them all to work, do I? Just one. That will be enough. Sooner or later, Doctor, sooner or later. I can wait. I'm a professional interrogator. I know how to wait.'

The Doctor began to quote. 'The interrogator must jump on the prisoner's sense of pride by attacking their loyalty, intelligence, ability, leadership, appearance, or any other weakness. The prisoner becomes defensive; trying to convince the interrogator he is wrong. Or she. Attempting to recover their pride, a prisoner will involuntarily give away information.'

'That's enough!'

'The detainee susceptible to this will make excuses and blame others. If the interrogator is sarcastic, the source will readily believe him - or her.'

He stopped. There was silence.

'Or IT!' added Ace.

'Have you finished, Doctor?' said Colluxx, ignoring Ace.

The Doctor grinned and was about to speak again.

'I can wander off somewhere else Doctor. I have plenty to be getting on with. Can you handle being bored?'

'I can actually. I can just go into a trance or meditate.'

Suddenly, there was a jet of water from above. The Doctor almost jumped out of his skin. His two hearts raced.

'Can you really?' said Colluxx her finger poised over the button she had just pressed.

Now with a serious expression on his face, the Doctor simply said, 'All right'.

'What's your name and where are you from?'

'I'm the Doctor – you already know this.'

'And?'

'Oh, yes… I'm from… somewhere you've never heard of.'

'Try me!'

'Galifrey.'

'Where?'

'My home planet is Galifrey. I told you it was a waste of time asking. You haven't the slightest clue what it is or where it is…'

'Don't be cheeky. Tell me about the planet you come from.'

The Doctor huffed and squinted.

'Well?' she asked.

'It's where I was born.'

'How did you get here?'

'I used my own transport.'

'The route you took, it must have been a long and complicated one, especially judging from your clothes and manners.'

The Doctor was silent before he started whistling to himself quietly.

'Well?'

'I'm sorry but I wasn't aware that you had asked me a question.'

'I said, the route that you took to come here must have been a complicated and long one, er, wasn't it?'

'Obviously not,' replied the Doctor.

'Obviously not…' Colluxx repeated over and again. 'Obviously not… Okay…' This wasn't going to be as easy as the last interrogation. 'I'll be back later,' she said as she stood up and left, undecided about whether to return and interrogate the pair in person or to start using the gases - she could hardly do both at the same time.

The Doctor did indeed try to meditate but he was unable to get very far, not because of the fear of being squirted with water but because Ace kept on talking to him. Sometime later, Colluxx returned to the chamber and stood over the Doctor.

'You know that when you look down, your face sags,' he said, eyes still closed.

'Why don't you just answer the questions?'

'I was answering the questions; I was just saying that I don't want to say anything.'

'So you're not answering the questions,' she reasoned.

'But I am answering the questions – that is my answer – that I don't want to say anything; however I want to make it crystal clear that I am answering your questions.'

Colluxx left the chamber again and decided to get advice from above.

Chapter 41

Silvacolla and Idiacoz were relieved to have been allowed to spend time together in detention if only for the fact that having someone else around eased the boredom. And after recent physical and mental exertions they were glad for a rest, despite an understandable fear regarding their final fate.

When the chamber door unexpectedly opened, both were naturally anxious.

'I'm a friend. You can go,' said a voice.

'What?' asked Silvacolla. Idiacoz didn't speak.

'This way, I haven't got time to explain.' The figure turned and began to leave the chamber.

'What's this about?' she whispered.

'I think this could actually be worse in the long run,' replied Silvacolla with wide eyes.

'What do you mean?'

'Because we could be shot now for escaping.' He glanced quickly from left to right. 'We better get away at the first chance.'

'Where? We'll never get out.'

'Anywhere,' he said.

As if reading Idiacoz's thoughts the figure turned to face them and said, 'You're in a lot of danger. Follow me.'

Idiacoz followed but Silvacolla hesitated.

'What are you doing?' she asked, half turning.

'It could be a trap…' he said.

The figure came back down the corridor where Silvacolla stood just outside the cell. He pulled out a weapon and pointed it at Silvacolla's head. 'I agree, it could be a trap,' he said.

Silvacolla thought again about making his escape but how and where to? Falling to his left or right was hardly going to save him. Running back into the chamber and closing the door was one option - if only Idiacoz would distract this figure. Reluctantly, he realised that he had no realistic choice.

'Good decision,' said the figure. 'My name's Ffedde by the way,' he added, withdrawing the weapon. 'Believe me; I am on your side.'

Idiacoz and Silvacolla looked at one another then followed Ffedde down a corridor, glancing at one another, uncertain about what now lay in store for them.

'So who are you? And what do you want with us?' said Silvacolla, finally.

'My name is Ffedde; I work secretly as a bodyguard.'

'Secretly. Who for?'

'I'm looking for someone,' he said.

Idiacoz wasn't happy that Ffedde hadn't answered the question and her mind was racing. Perhaps he was going to take them away and 'extract' information in the outsourced way. Perhaps the Colluxx interrogation had all been a bluff and designed to put them off guard? How many bluffs are there on this planet?

'Look, we don't know anything,' Silvacolla said.

'Well, I think you might,' replied Ffedde. 'You just don't know it.'

'Where are we going?' asked Idiacoz.

'Interrogation room' said Ffedde. 'Somewhere safe.'

The pair looked at one another in panic. They slowed down a little. 'I don't like the sound of that,' whispered Idiacoz shaking her head. 'I think we should stay here and refuse to move. Can we really trust this man?' Idiacoz asked.

Silvacolla found something reassuring in Ffedde though he didn't know what it was. He paused but couldn't express what he felt. Finally, he took the easy way out. 'I don't want him pointing that weapon at me again,' he said.

'Well?' repeated Idiacoz impatiently.

'I think we don't have a massive choice, do we?' said Silvacolla. 'I think if he had wanted to kill us, he would have done so by now.'

'Story of my life,' said Idiacoz.

Ffedde had easily overheard them. 'I think the danger for you two is that they – the authorities here – have no further use for you. They'd like to make your disappearances look like an accident.'

The word disappearance made Idiacoz shudder.

'Come on,' Ffedde told them. 'You'll just have to trust me. But if you don't cooperate, I'm prepared to use this.'

'Okay, so do you mind if we ask you some more questions?' asked Silvacolla.

'Please…'

They continued to walk.

'What do you want with us?'

'I told you – I'm looking for someone.'

'Not one of us? It's got nothing to do with us, then?'

'I'm sorry but it has,' Ffedde told them. 'I followed a person into this building.'

Idiacoz rolled her eyes. 'So why don't you go and find him then?'

'I need you to tell me whether you've seen him'

'No!' Silvacolla told him.

'Have you seen any other prisoners?'

'No!' They shouted in unison, keen not to give Ffedde further reason to detain them.

'What do you want with this person you are after?' she asked.

'I'm here to rescue him,' said Ffedde.

'But if we haven't seen him, what do you want with us?'

'I haven't got time to explain. I've rescued you, haven't I? Now, if you want me to justify that…What else do you want?'

'Okay,' said Idiacoz. 'It just that… well, you know…'

Ffedde stopped and turned to face them. He held up his hands as if in surrender. 'Alright, alright. You deserve an explanation. The Owner... The Owner is missing and the person I'm looking for is … accused… of, er, killing the Owner.'

'The Owner?' said Silvacolla.

'Dead?' asked Idiacoz.

'No…'

'And you want revenge?' she said.

'No, I mean, he's not dead, I'm fairly sure, but his disappearance might lead people to believe that… oh come on!' Ffedde turned and walked again. 'Someone – the person who was brought here – has been accused of this murder.'

'And?' said Silvacolla, impatiently.

'Look, I have to rescue him. I just thought you might have seen him. I was going to ask you. Then, given, I've opened the door to your cell, I don't want you wandering around setting alarms off, that's all. You're free to leave if you want. I did actually think I might be doing you a favour to let you escape but if you'd rather go back?' At this Ffedde speeded up his pace.

'I think, we'll come with you,' Idiacoz agreed.

'We?' demanded Silvacolla. 'We didn't say anything about us being involved.'

'I'll come with you then,' said Idiacoz hastily.

'You must hurry then,' said Ffedde with authority.

'Okay I'll come too…' agreed Silvacolla chasing up behind.

'Just stay in my shadow – right close behind me – keep a look out behind.'

An ex-military man, Ffedde took great pride in carrying out any tasks entrusted to him. His mission was to protect The Owner without being invasive – to be his personal bodyguard - and this meant doing something that few people had ever seemed capable of, which was staying one step ahead of The Owner.

Sometimes that meant influencing The Owner's behaviour through the power of suggestion and from the outset, he decided to secretly bug his master, not only his residence but his person. One evening, he spiked The Owner's drink and placed a minute tracking device under the skin of his neck. Why would anyone suspect?

In this way, Ffedde was able to make sure that he was aware of everything The Owner was up to. Over the course of his service, some of these things he had found distasteful, foolish even and others he regarded as downright evil and destructive but when all was said and done, he was a soldier – at least he had been.

The Owner undoubtedly had a rather long record of judicial trials, as several crimes were alleged to him or his firms including false accounting, tax fraud, corruption and bribery of military personnel and judges. Some of The Owner's close collaborators, friends and managers of his firms had been found guilty of related crimes, for various charges including corruption and undue appropriation. However, reasoned Ffedde, no definitive conviction had ever been issued to The Owner himself for any of the trials which had concluded so far; in some cases he had been fully acquitted of the allegations, in others he had been acquitted with new, more difficult, burdens of proof or he was acquitted because the statute of limitations expired before a definitive sentence could be issued.

Some of the suspicions about The Owner's life came from real or perceived blank spots in his past such as, the discovery of a secret organisation, Blackfriars, aimed at moving the Sirosan political system in an authoritarian direction to oppose counter pressure from the growing environmentalist movements. The Owner later declared in court that he had joined Blackfriars for a brief period only but this statement conflicted with previous testimony that he had actually been a member of Blackfriars for a long time. Condemned him for perjury the crime was extinguished in amnesty so he was never actually convicted.

Blackfriars came to public light as part of a banking scandal. For a long period, it tried to condition the political process through getting its members into key places in the state machine. It was founded by 16 permanent members, but rapidly expanded to over twenty-thousand, many of whom were well-known personalities.

When discovered, a list of members was found containing over two-thousand names, among which were important officials, politicians and military personnel, many in the secret services. The Owner was on the list, although he was yet to enter politics at that time, as well as the young entrepreneur, Montented.

A document was also found called the Environmental Rebirth Plan, which was a declaration of Blackfriars' intention to form a new political and business elite to lead Sirosan back towards authoritarian government. On discovery, many government and secret service officials were sacked. The official conclusion of an investigating commission set up to study Blackfriars was that it was a secret criminal organization, although no proof was discovered about specific crimes committed. A new law was issued prohibiting secret organisations.

The Owner and his supporters had an ongoing quarrel with almost every institution in existence. Ffedde was sympathetic and felt that The Owner was paying the price for appealing to the individual, sympathising with one's plight against large, monotonous grey institutions. On one occasion, Ffedde himself had been accused by Sirosan prosecutors of accepting gifts from The Owner in return for friendly evidence given as a prosecution witness. However, he asserted that the money in question did not come from The Owner but from another source. No formal accusation had yet been addressed to him but it was reported that prosecuting magistrates had submitted evidence to a judge, seeking a condemnation for bribery against The Owner and Ffedde: all parties fervidly denied unlawful activity though somewhat bizarrely, The Owner even denied having met Ffedde in the first place.

Ffedde stopped outside the door of the chamber he was looking for and was able to hear the Doctor's interrogation. He signalled to the others to get back and be quite and continued to listen before returning to them.

'That's good – he's irritating her. That'll give us a useful distraction,' he whispered. 'Come on…'

'Distraction from what…?' whispered Idiacoz following him.

'Doesn't matter. Wait here until I call you.'

Inside the chamber, Colluxx was speaking quietly, 'Everyone saw you arrive, go after The Owner... There was a battle and The Owner and the soldiers died. What am I supposed to do to get more information about who sent you?' she said.

The Doctor sighed and spoke slowly, 'I said that I think that I have to answer that question and confirm that I don't want to answer any questions at the moment.'

Colluxx didn't understand any of that but she realised that she wasn't meant to. 'Make it easy on yourself, Doctor. You're the prisoner – I'm the interrogator.'

'Aren't you afraid?' asked the Doctor. 'I might strike you at any moment and escape?'

'Why don't you then?' she asked. The Doctor was held with a restraining device. It wasn't going to happen.

The Doctor shrugged – as best he could. 'Behind you,' he said with a smile and a nod over Colluxx's shoulder.

Colluxx smiled a smile of defeat for she knew that the Doctor was above and beyond such childlike tools of distraction. He was telling the truth, she knew it now and from behind her a voice confirmed, 'There's no force field.'

Turning slowly with her hands in the air, she asked Ffedde, 'How did you get in?'

Ffedde held a weapon in her direction. He marched over to Colluxx and pushed her. 'NEVER MIND THAT. OVER THERE YOU,' he barked.

'I hope you're not going to ask me questions as well,' said the Doctor.

'I wouldn't be here otherwise,' replied Ffedde coldly.

'There's not much to choose from between either of you then?' the Doctor sneered.

'Sorry?'

'Are you all in this together? Is this a trick?' The Doctor appeared disappointed. 'This is no challenge at all, so is it your turn?'

'I don't understand,' said Colluxx…

'BEAT YOU!' he shouted and clapped his hands.

Ffedde was impatient. 'Doctor, there isn't much time. I have a lot to explain but also a lot to learn from you.'

'Oh… all right then. You can start by telling me what I'm doing here.'

'Let's secure this area as we speak…' and he pressed a number of buttons. Ffedde seemed to know what he was doing. 'I'm the Personal Bodyguard of The Owner…' he said

'I don't believe you,' said Colluxx laughing.

'Who cares what you believe?' said the Doctor, curtly.

'I have reason to understand,' began Ffedde, 'that you are innocent of The Owner's murder, Doctor.'

'Well – I am innocent.'

'As if…' said Colluxx.

'SHUT UP!' called out the Doctor. 'I've had enough of you!'

Ffedde indicated for Colluxx to lie on the couch ready to be restrained by a force field, then he beckoned the Doctor to him so that Colluxx couldn't hear what Ffedde had to say, however, all conversations and interrogations were automatically recorded for later listening so she made a point of remembering the exact time.

'I believe that Montented and Chief Pigmal are involved in a plot,' said Ffedde whispering. 'I don't know the exact relationship, who is working for whom, but I think the killing of The Owner is part and parcel of that.'

'You don't think I did it?' whispered the Doctor back.

'No… Why? Did you?' He looked disappointed and anxious.

'Of course not - but why are you so sure of my innocence – no-one else here is?'

'I have my reasons,' replied Ffedde.

'You mean, this is another ploy? Do you people never give up?'

'You want to go back to being interrogated by her?

The Doctor took another sneering glance at Colluxx. 'Very well then,' he said, 'thanks for coming here and all that but… er… Maybe it's time to get out?'

'We haven't finished yet. I need to ask you some more questions, Doctor. This is important.'

The Doctor was in a hurry to leave. 'Yes, yes, it's all very interesting but we haven't got time for that now, have we? Besides I think I know what's going on. It's all becoming much clearer to me…'

'What is going on in your opinion?'

'I said that I think I know,' replied the Doctor. 'I never said that I was sure.'

'What do you think, then Doctor?' said Ffedde impatiently.

'I'm going to have to think about it first.'

'Just ignore him,' called out Silvacolla who had been listening in and could make out about half of the details. 'He doesn't know anything. I think he's a spy to tell the truth.'

'Everything in good time. I will reveal all to you,' said the Doctor turning and smiling at Silvacolla.

'Why the big mystery?' he said.

'Let me think about it a bit. I'll be in the adjacent chamber if anyone needs me.'

'And if someone comes?' said Silvacolla.

'No-one will come,' said the Doctor. 'Ask her,' and he nodded to Colluxx.

The Doctor left the room and Silvacolla went up to Colluxx. 'Why won't anyone find us here?'

'I've no idea,' she said.

Silvacolla nodded his head. He looked at Ffedde, rolled his eyes and said, 'I don't think the Doctor has a clue either. We should just leave.'

'That's where you're wrong, I'm afraid.' It was Ace, who had been watching silently.

'What makes you so sure?' asked Idiacoz standing next to her.

'I just know the Doctor,' she said. 'I know what he's capable of.'

'You would say that though, wouldn't you?' alleged Silvacolla.

'I suppose I would,' she admitted.

'Because he seems a bit of a scatterbrain to me,' said Silvacolla.

'He knows what he's talking about, believe you me,' Ace stated.

Idiacoz aimed a question at Ffedde. 'What I don't understand is… Who is the Doctor? What does he do?'

'He's a Time Lord,' said Ace before Ffedde spoke.

'A Time Lord? What's one of those?' asked Silvacolla grinning.

'I've heard of them,' said Idiacoz. 'They travel through time.'

'Custodians of time…' Ffedde corrected her.

'How come you two know so much about it?' asked Silvacolla.

'It's my job to know,' Ffedde told him shaking his head and shrugging.

'Yes, the planet had something to do with them a long, long, long time ago,' recalled Idiacoz.

'So what?'

'It means,' affirmed Ace, 'that you shouldn't under-estimate the Doctor. He might look like an eccentric – he may be one – but…'

She was interrupted by banging sounds that could be heard from the adjoining chamber and said no more.

'If he's a Time Lord…' said Ffedde, 'What's he doing here? I thought they weren't interested in our planet.'

'It was nothing… I mean, we just crash landed,' explained Ace.

'I think, I'm beginning to see what's happened now,' announced Ffedde.

'Well, I'm not,' protested Silvacolla. 'I don't want to hang around here any longer – this is all too weird. I'm off. Are you coming too Idiacoz?'

Idiacoz was reluctant, 'Well, I don't think…'

'YOU CAME ALL THE WAY DOWN HERE TO DO SOMETHING MORE THAN SIT AND WAIT!' he lectured her.

Ace told them 'If you must go, just go! I don't want to know! We didn't ask to be rescued!'

'Okay – I'm going too,' said Idiacoz.

'And you?' said Silvacolla, looking to Ffedde.

'I think everybody had better remain here,' he said assertively.

'I don't feel safe here,' objected Silvacolla.

'Then I'm going too,' said Idiacoz a second time, as if trying to convince herself.

Ace had a change of heart, 'Where to?' she asked.

'It doesn't matter,' said Silvacolla. 'Anywhere but here. We're attracting attention.'

Just then, the adjoining chamber door opened and the Doctor emerged.

'Well, goodbye!' he told them.

Silvacolla spoke. 'I can't see how staying here is going to help.'

'You've got to get to the source of the problem,' replied the Doctor.

'So what are you doing about it?'

'I think,' the Doctor gave a little dramatic pause, 'I've found the answer. I think I know what the Professor was up to.'

'Really?'

'Yes,' said the Doctor.

'And?' Silvacolla didn't like being kept waiting for news.

'Well. I think it has something to do with the strange lights he used to observe.'

'Like what, precisely?'

'SkyLights,' said Idiacoz

'Indeed,' replied the Doctor before adding, 'I don't know yet – but I'll find out.'

Ffedde threw his arms wide open in frustration. Silvacolla stamped a foot.

'Come on Idiacoz,' said Silvacolla for the umpteenth time. 'Let's get out of here. He knows absolutely nothing!'

'Silvacolla's right,' said Idiacoz as she walked through the exit. 'We can't just sit around here talking about pretty lights… I'm sorry…'

'I'll come with you,' said Ffedde, having changed his mind.

Outside and moving quickly, Idiacoz had a brief second thought 'Are you sure we're doing the right thing?' she asked.

'Yes,' said Silvacolla hastily. 'Leave this Doctor to his bullshit. He's a waste of time!'

'But…' she protested.

'Good grief,' said Silvacolla, 'just take a decision and stick to it for a change!'

Back in the Interrogation Chamber, The Doctor and Ace were now left alone with Colluxx. 'Still haven't found your way out yet then?' she laughed.

'We couldn't leave you – you've got such an attractive personality!' smirked Ace.

'You could if you wanted to. I'm restrained, can't you see?'

'I have to ask you some more questions,' the Doctor said.

'But I'm the one who asks…'

'Turn. The record. Off. Not this time. And do you know why?'

'Because the truth gas has got into me and I can't resist – I can't lie to you or mislead you in any way…'

The Doctor nodded. 'It's working then.'

'You pressed the button. I didn't see you do that.'

The Doctor again nodded. 'Some role reversal, eh? What's the best technique to use on you?'

She scrunched up her face. 'I think you should just ask me,' she said.

'What technique annoys you the most?'

'Repetition,' was the instant reply.

'Why?' asked the Doctor.

'It's boring,' she mumbled.

'How does it work…?'

'There are many variations.'

'Please, give us one.'

'Interrogators listen carefully to a prisoner's answer to a question and then repeat both the question and the answer several times. They do this with each succeeding question until the detainee becomes so thoroughly bored with the procedure that they answer questions fully and candidly in order to satisfy the interrogator and to gain relief from the monotony of this method of questioning.'

'Who sounds like they've swallowed a manual now?' the Doctor teased.

'I wrote the manual. It's all up there in my head.'

'So tell us what's going on.'

'You better turn the gas off or it will affect you two as well.'

'That's very honest of you…' said the Doctor.

'You know, it's rare for me to tell the truth about important things – I hate it. But now, because my own technique has been used on me, I literally cannot tell a lie.'

The Doctor stifled a giggle and Ace was grinning from ear to ear. 'What do I want you to tell me?'

'The truth – you want to know the truth.'

'Well done,' said the Doctor.

'Will you let me ask a question?' said Colluxx.

'Be my guest,' she replied.

'Why hasn't the truth gas affected you and your assistant?'

'Because,' he replied, 'we always tell the truth, don't we Ace?'

'Not always, no,' she replied.

The Doctor couldn't stifle a laugh. Colluxx looked frustrated. Ace began to giggle.

'I went into the other chamber, didn't I' so I didn't get the full dose. Besides, what's the truth anyway? Where is the line drawn?'

'Boring!' said Colluxx.

'Yes, I suppose that you could…' Suddenly, from his state of gentle sarcasm and calm, the Doctor shouted at Colluxx at the top of his voice. 'TELL ME EVERYTHING I WANT TO KNOW - AND TELL ME NOW!'

Colluxx recognised that the Doctor was using the RAPID FIRE approach - a psychological ploy based upon the principle that everyone likes to be heard and that it is confusing to be interrupted in mid-sentence with an unrelated question. She herself had written that:

'This technique must to be used by a single interrogator or simultaneously by more questioning the prisoner. The interrogator asks questions that the detainee does not have time to answer completely before the next is asked, confusing them, so that they start to contradict themselves and have little time to prepare answers. The interrogator confronts the prisoner with these inconsistencies, causing further contradictions. The prisoner will then start to speak to deny these inconsistencies.'

None of this lengthy process was necessary: Colluxx simply blurted out her response. 'This Detention Centre and the whole of this decaying Sirosan planet are controlled by Blackfriars.'

'And Blackfriars is controlled by?

'Montented. He controls the gangs too. Montented wants to liquidate The Owner so he can take control of Sirosan and the other moons under emergency powers. Pigmal has probably taken care of the details for him.'

The Doctor slapped his thigh. 'Thanks,' he said. 'I thought that would do the trick!'

'I despise you so much,' said Colluxx, shooting him a look of disgust. 'I really do.'

'You've been very helpful,' said the Doctor sarcastically.

'I regret that,' she told him. 'And I hope to one day see that you regret it too.'

'You know,' the Doctor began, scratched his head, 'I thought you'd have put up more resistance. I mean, don't they train you at all?'

'To use this particular interrogation technique, part of our training is to undergo sessions ourselves so that the gas doesn't have such a strong effect on us when we finally use it for work.'

'Your training proved useless in this case. How come?' asked the Doctor.

Colluxx struggled to speak. 'I managed to avoid those sessions,' she told him.

'Why?'

She seemed under genuine stress. 'Why?! Can you imagine what would have happen if I started telling the truth, what I think of people, of society, my superiors, etc? Unthinkable.'

The Doctor and Ace smiled.

'I just wanted to say to you,' said the Doctor, laughing, coming closer, and his face now right in front of Colluxx's. 'That it's me who asks the questions here. Not you.'

He turned and pointed to the door. 'Come on Ace,' he urged.

'I really, really, really, really do hate you,' Colluxx told him.

'It's just envy,' said Ace, 'I'm sure you could learn to love him eventually.'

'Come on Ace, let's go,' urged the Doctor.

'Are you just going to leave me?' Colluxx called out

'I'm the one who asks the questions…' the Doctor repeated, mimicking her voice, 'Ho-Ho! Goodbye.'

As the Doctor and Ace turned to leave, a group of soldiers came into the chamber, weapons at the ready.

'Ah,' said the Doctor. 'You're just in time. The prisoner has been restrained and is ready for you.'

The guards didn't budge.

'I'm afraid you won't be going anywhere,' said a voice and a man stepped in front of the troops. 'You're the Doctor,' I take it.

'Did she tell you?' he said, nodding in the direction of Colluxx.

'Release her,' said the man to a guard. 'I'm Montented. But I suppose you must already know that.'

'I didn't as it happens. But now you're here, you're just the person I was looking for.'

'You're quite the assassin. What is it? Was I the next?'

'I just said I was looking for you…'

'To kill me?'

'No… I…'

'Like you killed The Owner?'

'But I didn't kill The Owner. Well, it looks like I did. Maybe, maybe not. The Owner is dead but,' he paused as if in thought, 'I didn't do it.'

'I know what you're up to. You killed The Owner and now we've caught you trying to escape. The authorities have to get a result on that one or lose all credibility. Actually, I can't think of one reason why I should hand you over to the authorities, when I can just deal with you myself, on the spot. You're not even from this planet. You're not even a proper person – just an assassin. And you know what happens to illegal immigrants on the moon!

'We're not on the moon, the Doctor told him pointlessly. 'Besides, I'm not an assassin and you know it.'

'You have tried to overpower the guards and assassinate me in the struggle so we've had to eliminate you.'

'How do you know The Owner is dead?' asked the Doctor.

'I'm the one who asks the questions, if you don't mind.'

'Oh not that again!'

'I have my sources – like everyone else on this planet – but I want to know who you work for?'

'You don't know already?'

'I'm losing patience,' Montented told him.

'You know I'm not an assassin – I'm not even armed.'

'You were armed when you killed The Owner.'

'But it wasn't me,' said the Doctor.

'Who sent you?'

The Doctor ignored the question and asked one of his own. 'How did he die then?'

'As I said, I am meant to be asking the questions here, not you.'

'You're not just asking – you're answering too,' said Ace

'Guard. Hand me your weapon.'

The guard did as he was instructed.

'It was you who killed The Owner, wasn't it? You set me up,' said the Doctor.

'Not me – you,' said Montented.

'Sir,' it was Colluxx finally released by a guard. 'We can't just kill him ourselves, we have to…'

'We can do what we like,' said her boss interrupting. 'At least I can. Understood?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Good, because you either understand or you go and work on the Red Moon, interrogating prisoners – the old way...'

'Yes, Sir.'

'Don't listen to him,' said the Doctor to anyone who would listen. 'He's the murderer. If you let him kill me, you'll be signing your own death warrant. Montented killed The Owner…'

'Whatever you might have heard about me Doctor, I did not kill The Owner.'

'So who else benefits from his death? You're the only one.'

'Oh, how's that.'

'Emergency powers, curfews – the usual stuff, the things Blackfriars has been after for a long time.'

Montented appeared genuinely surprised. His jaw dropped. 'So, Doctor, you know about that. That's actually quite unfortunate for you.'

The Doctor smiled. 'If I know, everyone else must know.'

'But they don't know, they can only guess! Anyway, yes we do stand to gain and yes, we definitely will introduce emergency powers because…' He waved his hand and turned away, 'As if we have to justify ourselves to you, alien.'

Montented pointed his weapon and stood back. 'Do you think I'm bluffing Doctor? Someone has assassinated The Owner – what a shame! And now we have to show how to deal with the assassin – for the greater good of society of course.'

As he spoke, a guard received and relayed a new message to Montented. 'Well, well, well,' he said. 'Not just two for the price of one but three! Wait here with them.'

Montented left the chamber and entered the adjacent one, where six guards stood with Ffedde, Silvacolla and Idiacoz. 'An embarrassment of riches,' said Montented.

'We caught them trying to escape,' said the guard.

'Escape, eh? Well, I can't say I'm surprised.'

Ffedde spoke. 'You must listen to me. The Owner is still alive.'

Montented folded his arms and stared at Ffedde, shaking his head. 'Are you in denial or what? I saw him killed on a visual you fool. Everyone's seen it. Apart from you, it seems, whose job it was to have prevented it happening in the first place!'

'You think you've seen him killed,' said Ffedde.

'So where is he then?'

Ffedde looked at his shoes. 'I can't tell you that,' he said softly.

'Oh, I see. Right. Brilliant. I suppose you can just keep him hidden from view for ever – and keeping picking up your salary for looking after him? Well, funnily enough, Ffedde, I have the assassin in detention. He came try to try and finish me off too. My guards did their job; it's a pity you didn't do yours.'

'I know,' said the bodyguard.

'You know?' asked Montented incredulously.

'He's not an assassin.'

Montented's eyes went skywards. 'The Doctor you mean. How come you are in on this too? They do say never to trust the bodyguard. If you can be called a bodyguard that is, in that bodyguards generally are meant to guard bodies not lose them.'

'Let me see this so-called assassin…' said Ffedde.

'Hold on! Hold on! Why should I let you see him? You already know of him. You said his name. You haven't explained what you're doing here trying to help prisoners escape. Besides, you're no one. You are just a private operator playing soldier and that's going to be over once you've been tried. I'm surprised you haven't been arrested and are under suspicion yourself.'

Ffedde sighed heavily.

For both of these men, there were old arguments still unresolved. 'You never were much of a soldier, were you?' Ffedde told Montented.

'How dare you?' he replied, raising his voice. 'You couldn't handle the pressure – that's why you got out. You're just a civilian; same as me now. But poor.'

'I'm The Owner's bodyguard, actually. I'm still in the Secret Services.'

'The Owner's dead so you haven't got a job now. There's no-one to protect your arse. I told you a long time ago, you'd chosen the wrong side.'

'What? As if I could have come and worked for you.'

'You could have.'

'Oh, yeah.'

'The wages wouldn't have been so bad. I don't think I'd have trusted you as a bodyguard though - but you'd have been good at cleaning or something outdoors.'

Ffedde glared at Montented silently.

'I'd like to see you clean this up, though. Your own mess, I mean.'

'Are you going to let me see this Doctor or not?'

'You must be joking. Look, I'll let you in on a little secret - we already know who put The Doctor up to assassinating The Owner; it was the Secret Services on Sirosan-2 who put him up to it. They are way out of control but it will be easy to rein them in now. Heads will roll my dear, Ffedde, heads will roll. And with The Owner out of the way, I'm Top Dog.'

'You won't get away with this?'

'No, it is you who won't get away with it.' He paused in thought. 'Actually, I tell you what: I won't just let you see him; I'll let you shoot him. And the girl.'

Ffedde looked at Montented in surprise.

'Yes,' said Montented. 'Guard. Take him back to the other prisoner.' He turned back to Ffedde. 'I'll even relieve you of Colluxx's presence - I'm sure that will be a relief.'

Once Ffedde had been taken to into the adjacent chamber with the Doctor, Montented smiled. 'This just gets better,' he said to himself whilst taping a button on his arm-console.

Ordering the remaining guards out of the chamber, after making sure the Doctor and Ffedde were restrained, he laughed again, then spoke to someone on Sirosan-2. 'This is rather urgent Pigmal but I need someone who gets things done the old fashioned way - the Blackfriars way.'

Pigmal had commenced his policing career in the rough areas of the inner cities on Sirosan and had served in both uniform and as a detective before attending the new post-dictatorship Academy, designed to give, 'A human face to policing'. He worked as Assistant Chief Police Officer in various regions of the planet, finally becoming Deputy Sirosan Police Chief where he was awarded for services to policing. Out of the blue, he was appointed as overall Head of Immigration Control (Policing) of the Sirosan-2 Moon. It was a fortuitous move as not long after the police were replaced by the military on Sirosan itself.

Pigmal's public profile rose considerably after a particularly famous incident involving Sirosan-2 Space Tour 516447, a commercial trip around the bi-solar system operated by Sirosan-2 Space Tours, which took sightseers around Sirosan's moons. The flight was hit by the DEF11 laser in the polar region of Sirosan-2, resulting in 2,914 civilian fatalities. This particular Tourist Shuttle, the Trophy left the Sirosan-2 equator on the famous, 'Low & Hi Orbit' tour.

According to Sirosan-2 Planning Council accounts, DEF11 mistakenly identified the Trophy Shuttle as a missile. According to the same reports DEF11 tried more than once to contact the shuttle, but received no acknowledgement. With the civilian shuttle flying ever closer, DEF11 fired a volley of two laser blasts, the first of which broke the shuttle in two and damaged the tail and right side. After this engagement the DEF11 operators realized that the vehicle was in fact a civilian shuttle.

This version of events was dealt with in a report entitled Formal Investigation into the Circumstances Surrounding the Downing of Sirosan-2 Space Tour 516447. This report was only partially released - a fact criticized by many observers.

However, this turned out not to be an isolated incident as subsequent events showed:

EST NEWSDATA… LATEST NEWSDATA… LATEST NEWSDATA… LATEST NEWSDATA… L

'Friendly fire' hits White Moon tourist craft

A laser has hit a White Moon spacecraft, 'somewhere within Sirosan-2's orbit', killing several people, including a Sirosan-2 Inspection & Escort team.

At least 100 have been killed and several others wounded.

It is the latest in a series of 'friendly fire' incidents involving Sirosan-2 vessels patrolling the skies looking for illegal immigrants.

The incident occurred in the 546.895.456 region above Sirosan-2, as the convoy was heading towards the moon.

It had joined up with another group of vessels when a military scouting ship called for a laser strike after spotting the convoy in the distance.

Witnesses described a 'scene from hell', with all the vessels in the convoy damaged and bodies floating off into space.

Those who survived managed to get into safety pods – though some of these were hit as well.

Pigmal had been in overall charge during both incidents and demands were soon made for his resignation. He was placed under investigation over accusations that he had made false public statements after the deaths, and that he attempted to delay the original inquiries.

Following the discovery that the victims were not in fact illegal at all, Pigmal had considered resigning but then came to the decision to remain in office, 'because the big job is to defend this moon and that's what I'm here to do'.

On appointment, he had been described as a reform-minded, evidence-based moderniser who sought change to ensure, not only that matters were just and fair, but that immigration policing was effective and up-to-date. It wasn't all about praise however as Pigmal had been a common target of the Sirosan-2 media, who feared what they saw as excess political correctness and softness frequently calling on him to resign over one issue or another.

Montented's opinion was that whoever was in charge of DEF11 acted recklessly and without due care. His NewsDataFeeds accused Sirosan-2 of a cover-up with an unnamed source in the Sirosan-2 military quoted and that the destruction of the tourist craft, 'marked the horrifying climax to the Planning Council's aggressiveness, seen not for the first time'.

The subsequent NewsDataFeed, owned by Montented, concluded:

'While issuing notes of regret over the loss of life, the Sirosan-2 Planning Council has, to date, neither admitted wrongdoing or responsibility for this tragedy, nor apologised, but incredibly continues to blame hostile actions for the incident!'

Fighting back on behalf of the Sirosan-2 Planning Council, The Owner declared, 'I will never apologise for the Sirosan-2 military, ever. I don't care what it has done. I don't care what the facts are.'

Montented showed Pigmal both the carrot and the stick in this affair. The threat was that Montented had enough dirt on Pigmal to finish his career off and indeed to have him see out his days on the Red prison moon, whilst the incentive was that he had the chance to become Montented's main man, when the entrepreneur finally came to power, post-Owner. For now, though, their accord had to be kept secret – and to outsiders appeared hostile.

When the conversation with Pigmal was over, Montented called a guard back in. Instead of barking orders as per usual, he beckoned the guard into his earshot and spoke discreetly. 'We're going to let the prisoners go, okay?'

'To leave?'

This was the first time that the Guard had ever questioned the orders of a superior but it was an automatic response to the way he'd been almost taken into confidence, with Montented having just used the interrogative form rather than the usual imperative.

Montented was used to people questioning him - though never a subordinate - so he just ignored the question and said, 'Then, we're going to have the Doctor and Ffedde followed. I want you to get a group of guards you can trust; that way, if the targets separate, we won't lose anyone.'

'Yes, sir,' replied the guard, not really understanding but starting to have an idea. In one sense the guard was thrilled that he'd been taken into Montented's confidence; on the other hand, what Montented wanted was probably unlawful and even dangerous. Still, he understood what it was about. The term, 'guards you can trust' meant guards who were members of Blackfriars.

'Make sure the surveillance group can be trusted as well,' said Montented, adding, 'If you see what I mean, we don't want any incidents like last time.'

'Understood, sir,' said the guard.

'Now, admittedly I could only hear half of the conversation and not everything clearly but it seems to me that the Maggz are blackmailing The Owner. How? They're not very good communicators, are they? I think Pigmal is involved somehow. Why? Because the conversation was with him and on a closed ear-piece, perhaps to prevent others (like me) from listening well.'

I told him we were ready for a test. The idea would be to use a plant and see what happens. It was exciting and nice to get recognition. To be honest I wanted the NewsDataFeeds to be there but it was best we did it in secret because the project was meant to be about decoding SkyLights and there was still the risk of failure…

'So we set up the experiment and put the plant in the middle of the dome. It's a plant that hasn't been watered for some time. Without explaining how the process should work on every single cell…'

'There were just the two of us – only the two of us knew it was going to take place – and we stood well back behind the safety wall and watched.'

Chapter 42

Ace led everyone through the Leaderless Collective's tunnels and caverns and finally to the beginning of its underground maze, where she fell down exhausted. 'I nearly didn't make it,' she said.

'I know…' said Silvacolla, 'It's hard to run on this planet. The gravity… The equipment… You need to get some rest now…' he advised her.

'I can't…' she puffed.

'Save it… Don't try to speak.'

Ningbooton approached 'Nice to see you again, Ace. I got your message. Don't mind us!'

'Likewise,' Ace replied.

'You better follow me, then,' said Ningbooton. 'No doubt you've been followed so we have to go through the maze to throw them off track. No-one's scared of the dark, are they?'

'I am,' said Silvacolla.

The others looked at him.

'Just keep close to everyone then,' said Ningbooton.

As they trekked through the maze, Ffedde finally got to have a conversation with the Doctor. 'We've got to fill in the missing gaps – get this straight…'

'I don't think Montented really did organize the killing of The Owner,' said the Doctor.

'I think you'll find that he isn't even dead!' argued Ffedde.

'I harbour suspicions about Spessogack, the Head of the Secret service,' said the Doctor, who didn't appear to have heard what Ffedde had said.

'For someone who's been here for such a short time, you know all the most important people.'

'There are so many reasons to suspect him,' suggested the Doctor.

'For instance?'

'For instance, he contacted me first, not vice-versa. It's just that he gave so many hints that he thought it was Montented, without actually saying it… It was what he wanted me to think – all by myself. But I shouldn't have wasted time questioning his motives – that was missing the point.'

'Well, Doctor…' said Ace, who felt she deserved an explanation...

'The truth is that, as Ffedde says, that The Owner isn't dead at all.'

Ace stopped and stared and the Doctor and Ffedde were forced to stop behind her. The Doctor leant back on a wall and sighed.

Idiacoz spoke. 'Was The Owner being blackmailed, do you think?'

Ffedde smiled. 'Does everyone claim to know everything on this planet?'

'I think I know,' said Idiacoz.

'How?' asked Ffedde unconvinced.

The Doctor interrupted, 'Look, it doesn't matter how…'

'What do you know about the blackmail?' asked Ffedde.

'The Owner was being blackmailed by beings from another planet, the Maggz perhaps,' Idiacoz told him.

'I still don't know why you would think that,' said Ffedde.

The Doctor again spoke over the top of Idiacoz who had begun to say, 'So it's true then?'

'He wasn't being blackmailed at all,' affirmed the Doctor. 'There is no evidence to show it, though I think it was a red herring designed to fool us all. I thought I had been set up to go looking for The Owner, find him and be the perfect witness to his assassination – as his killer – but that's another red herring.'

Suddenly Silvacolla collapsed.

'What is it?' said Idiacoz, rushing to his aid.

'I just feel queasy,' said Silvacolla.

Ningbooton and two others also came to attend him.

'I'll be all right', he said - and promptly lost consciousness.

'What are we going to do now?' asked Idiacoz.

Ningbooton checked Silvacolla's pulse. 'His heart's beating very fast - and feel this,' he touched Silvacolla's forehead. 'He's burning up.'

One of the Leaderless Collective fetched a device to measure Silvacolla's temperature.

'What is it?' asked Ace.

'He seems to have some kind of fever. Perhaps we need to put him in quarantine or something. I don't know. We haven't really got any equipment here and we can't afford a hospital.'

Idiacoz suddenly looked startled and she pointed. 'LOOK!'

Silvacolla's face was becoming a blur. A bright light appeared to shine around him, like an aura. The corridor they were in went cold.

'What is it,' whispered Idiacoz.

The Doctor was equally startled. Ace looked at him in fear because if the Doctor was scared it was bound to be for a good reason.

Ningbooton retreated a couple of places. 'What the..?'

'Have no fear,' said the Doctor. 'I think I know what's happening.'

Ffedde looked at the Doctor for an explanation but none was forthcoming. The Doctor now began to move around the prone Silvacolla as the others took steps backwards.

'Doctor?' It was Ace.

'Not now,' he replied.

'But I've seen this before,' she said.

'So have I.'

'It's not…'

'I'm afraid that it is.'

'Doctor? What are you talking about?' It was Ffedde's turn now.

Around them, a noise had emerged but so slowly and more subtly than what they were witnessing that they hardly noticed. Then there was a whoosh and the sound died away.

Silvacolla's face had now changed beyond recognition.

Everyone stood in silence, staring at the limp figure on the floor. It wasn't Silvacolla anymore.

'Who is it?' asked Idiacoz. 'It's another person!'

'He's regenerated,' explained Ace.

'He's what?'

Ffedde spoke in a more irritable tone this time. 'Doctor? Tell me what is happening, will you?'

'He's regenerated,' said the Doctor.

'It's like dying and being born again,' explained Ace.

Ffedde shook his head.

Silvacolla's eyes slowly opened. His features were younger and fresher, his eyes a different colour. He seemed to have got a little taller, judging from the way his trousers no longer reached his ankles.

'Who are you?' said the Doctor. 'A Timelord too?'

'Wow!' said Ningbooton, and he swore a couple of times before looking at the Doctor. 'How did that happen?'

'What's happened?' asked Idiacoz.

'Something,' said Silvacolla. His voice was completely different. 'An experiment with Farockaway,' he said sitting up. 'I told you, Ace.'

The others moved back, either out of fear or to give him some space. Only the Doctor and Ace stayed put.

'Go on,' said the Doctor.

'I don't know exactly what happened but Farockaway was unconscious. I was too ill and then… I was in a terrible state myself. I felt as if I should be sick but couldn't be.'

'Just slow down,' said the Doctor. 'Take it from the top.'

'I had hallucinations, bad dreams, insomnia. It was like a bad hangover or something worse. I lost my mind.'

'What does he mean?' said Idiacoz.

'I took Silvacolla as a name. I had to take something.'

The Doctor held out a hand to stop Idiacoz asking further questions. 'Go on,' he said to Silvacolla.

'I need a rest, I need to sleep. I'm confused. This is a bad dream.'

'You were with Farockaway?' asked Idiacoz, unable to keep quite.

'Yes, an experiment.'

'How did you get the technology to regenerate?' asked the Doctor.

'We found it. Farockaway and I. It was on the Alpha vessel that crashed landed the Red moon. Do you remember? It was alien. We salvaged what we could. Farockaway deciphered what he found.

'You're The Owner,' said Ace. 'I recognise you from the chamber…'

Everyone turned to look at this newly regenerated creature for an explanation.

'That's right,' said Silvacolla, or The Owner, or whoever he had now become.

Idiacoz fell into against the wall behind her. 'But…?'

'It's always been me but my body has changed – and my mind too – I don't know who I am anymore.'

'That's an effect of the regeneration but it will wear off,' explained the Doctor, 'But you seem to have regenerated twice. You've managed to… sort of… die and be regenerated again before the first regeneration has had time to complete.'

'YOU BASTARD!' yelled Idiacoz. 'I TRUSTED YOU… I'VE COME ALL THE WAY TO THIS SHITHOLE OF A PLANET…!' She was beside herself and lunged towards Silvacolla but Ffedde stood directly in her way.

'STAY BACK!' He warned, 'Keep away.'

'What happened to Farockaway?' she demanded.

Silvacolla shook his head. 'I don't know.'

'I wished they had killed you!' shouted Idiacoz, again lunging forwards and again being blocked by Ffedde.

'You still have to protect this animal?' she said to Ffedde.

'That's right,' he replied. 'I'm still his personal protection officer.'

'I'm sorry,' said The Owner after a moment. 'I really have no idea. I didn't understand at first, bits of me came through but other bits were left behind. I can't explain it. It's like a dream - or a nightmare.'

'Why didn't you say who you were? Instead of just keeping quiet. Lying!'

'I didn't understand. Put yourself in my shoes,' he replied.

'Regeneration plays funny tricks on the mind,' said the Doctor. 'I should know – I've done it often enough.' The Doctor turned to Silvacolla again, 'What I want to know is what went wrong with your regeneration.'

'Wrong? Isn't it meant to be like this? I can't tell you that, I'm not a scientist. You're supposed to be a doctor. You tell me.'

'What were you trying to achieve? Immortality?'

Silvacolla the Owner sighed and told them, 'Farockaway reverse-engineered some of the alien technology and deciphered various codes – I don't know all the details.'

'What was the point of all this?'

'It was to prolong life. For everybody. We'd only got as far as testing it on a plant. We started the experiment and the next thing I know is that I'm somewhere else and I'm not myself.'

'So Farockaway's still out there. Perhaps he regenerated too,' said Idiacoz.

'Or dead,' added the Doctor.

'You were supposed to be helping me to find Farockaway. You know where he is. Where is he?

'I don't.'

'YOU BASTARD!' cried out Idiacoz again but one more Ffedde blocked her as Ace tried to pull her back and console her.

'Why don't you answer me?' Idiacoz shouted at him, tears rolling down her cheeks as she wept.

The Owner laughed. 'The thing is, it's worked. I'm new again. Would you believe it?!'

Ace spoke now, 'How come you can remember nothing of the first regeneration but you seem to remember it all now?'

The Doctor nodded his head. 'It comes and goes,' he said. 'Bouts of hyperactivity and sensibility followed by troughs of forgetfulness and fatigue. That's normal. It will pass eventually.'

'Wait a minute,' asked Ace. 'I mean, we were accused of killing him. We actually saw him get hit with the plasma ball or whatever it was. Remember? We were there.'

'Will someone explain what's happening,' asked Idiacoz.

'If you watch the so-called assassination of The Owner again,' the Doctor informed her, 'and the pictures aren't brilliant, you'll see that The Owner is blown away by the explosion just as Ace and I were. I re-ran the images again and again in the room next to the interrogation chamber and you can spot what happened if you know what you're looking for.

The Doctor turned to Ffedde. 'And you knew all the time, didn't you?'

Ffedde wasn't ready for this but said, 'I had my own tracking devices inserted into The Owner. Fortunately, one of them survived the experiment. I did some digging and realised that the impossible interpretation was the only possible one. Of course, I needed your help to confirm it.'

'And you knew about the experiments?' asked The Owner.

'Yes,' replied Ffedde.

'So you knew what was going to happen?' he asked.

'Only what could have happened.' Ffedde turned to the Doctor. 'When he regenerated, I didn't believe what had happened. Who else would have believed it? If I had come out and told such a far-fetched theory, it would have placed me under suspicion.'

'Were you going to mention it to us at all?' asked the Doctor, a hint of sarcasm in the air.

'I needed you to investigate it and find out what really happened. Why do you think I came looking for you? I only had a theory to go on.'

'These experiments?' asked Idiacoz. 'You mean the project with Farockaway…'

The Owner turned to her. 'How do you know about that?'

She gave him a withering look.

'Farockaway told you, didn't he?'

Idiacoz looked in the direction of The Owner. 'Where is Farockaway?' she said.

'I don't know. The last I saw of him, he was on the floor of the lab.'

'And you just left him there?'

The Owner nodded.

'You coward.'

'I couldn't help it; I was confused – The Owner was confused.'

'You're The Owner. Evil and manipulating.'

'No, I'm Silvacolla. The Silvacolla you liked and befriended.'

She shook her head.

The Doctor spoke. 'He's both, I'm afraid. There are always traces of the old character with the new.'

Ace smirked, looked at the Doctor and nodded her agreement.

'What does regeneration involve?' asked Idiacoz.

Before the Doctor could answer, there was a sound that came from inside the Maze.

'Everyone, get down,' whispered Ffedde and in unison they moved backwards rather than down.

A communication arrived from Spessogack to the Doctor, who put his Goggles back on.

'Just the person,' said the Doctor.

Further down the maze, a voice announced: 'YOU'RE SURROUNDED. THERE IS NO ESCAPE. I WANT YOU ALL TO COME OUT ONE BY ONE WITH YOUR HANDS UP.'

Chapter 43

Everyone had become quite desperate not only with recent events but the disorientating mixture of capture, detention, escape and release. 'Will we make it this time?' Idiacoz said cynically.

Ffedde was suspicious but there was little he could do either. He wanted to tell the Doctor that the situation they were in was clearly a trap – an excuse to disappear escaping prisoners, linked together in a plot to assassinate The Owner but as they began to move further into the maze, still believing they could hold out, the Doctor replied, 'Yes. What is it?' to a buzzing sound that told him there was a communication request.

Ningbooton led them through the maze and out of it. 'They might think they've covered our exit but there's more than one way out of here,' he told them and one by one they came up through a hole in the ground and into the open. For Ffedde, this wasn't ideal and he felt that it was imperative to get as far away from the open as possible. He was wondering whether it might not have been better to stay in the maze.

The voice speaking to the Doctor, through the Goggles, belonged to Spessogack.

'Doctor, I have some information that might be useful for you.'

'How to get off this planet?'

'Oh, but Doctor. You misunderstand me. You're free to leave whenever you want.'

'Not that again.' The Doctor was climbing a ladder and not really listening properly. 'You do choose your moments, don't you?' he said.

'You can't just leave without permission – or you might find yourself on the end of a different sort of beam.'

'From you, you mean?'

'Anyway – on to other, more pressing matters… Montented…'

'Yes, yes, we met. He let us go but I think he's coming after us. He genuinely thinks I killed The Owner. He thinks you put me up to it.'

'Where are we going?' called Ffedde standing next to the hole in the ground he'd emerged from.

'I don't know,' replied the Doctor and he told Spessogack to wait a moment.

It slowly dawned on the group that although they were escaping from whoever had followed them underground, they didn't know where to go above ground.

Before they could discuss, a voice boomed out from above: 'YOU ARE SURROUNDED. SURRENDER YOUR WEAPONS.'

'WE NEED TO TURN BACK,' shouted Ffedde.

'NOT AGAIN,' said Silvacolla.

Quickly the group raced back underground and returned into the maze where they were temporarily at least, safe from harm – though their guide Ningbooton had since said his goodbyes when they were at the ladder bottom.

'We better just stay here for now,' said the Doctor.

Ffedde spoke. 'Everyone's after us. That was a different lot. It wasn't Montented. I think they were Pigmal's people.'

'What? You mean we've got two different groups on our tail?'

'Sure looks like it.'

As they spoke the noise from beyond the maze increased. Clearly, a number of soldiers had come down the hole in the ground and reached the edge of the maze. But would they risk entering? Suddenly it all went quite outside. Inside, the Doctor raised a finger to his lips to call for silence. He knew those on the outside would be using instruments to listen in. It was going to be cat and mouse.

The silence was long and finally broken when weapons were fired in a short burst followed by silence again and then the sound of soldiers and guards crying out in pain. The group couldn't understand this but they didn't have much time to reason as weapons were once again utilised.

Outside the maze there was darkness and confusion.

'Emergency code 49. Small arms fire. Two down,' said a soldier. 'We're taking a lot of hits.'

'MORE UNITS BEING DISPATCHED…' replied a voice on the radio.

'This was meant to be straight-forward,' said the soldier to the rest of his unit.

There were minor explosions, larger explosions, lasers, crackling and the smell of flesh and blood filled that filled nostrils, eventually inside the maze, adding to the already repugnant stink of everyday pollution that had become normal on Sirosan. During the confusion, the group moved further into the maze and through being able to hear where the soldiers were, they knew that they had put a lot of distance between them – even if they were still, to all intents and purposes, surrounded and therefore trapped.

Something happened – as if time but, curiously enough, not space – had shifted.

It felt like a strong electromagnetic wave or impulse but it was hard to say what had happened.

The Owner felt it was the same as when he'd experienced a medium sized earthquake on Sirosan.

Farockaway instead just closed his eyes. He felt like he'd been pinned back – suffering half a dozen gravity forces simultaneously. He knew it was important not to resist but to try to be aware of everything going on: observe don't act.

The Owner looked over at Farockaway – what had happened? Had they both fallen asleep?

Then another shock followed and both of them again lay slumped and unconscious for some time.

When he came round The Owner felt tired and nauseous. Farockaway was still not conscious and although The Owner tried to wake him and find out what had happened, Farockaway remained knocked out though breathing gently.

The Owner stood up and went down to the lab and opened the dome. The plant hadn't changed at all. Why was that?

Something had definitely happened – they'd felt it and they'd stayed close to it - but the plant was unaffected.

It was all so confusing now.

For some time more, The Owner rested, on the floor, lacking strength, needing to sleep.

When he next came to, it was after a much longer time had passed. The Owner was exhausted but no longer sleepy. He felt much better despite a tingling sensation in his extremities. What had caused it? he asked himself.

He remembered to go back upstairs to ask Professor Farockaway. Maybe it was nothing whatsoever to do with the experiment, though it would be a strange coincidence to say the least.

The Owner reached the top of the stairs with a struggle – he wasn't the fittest of species in the first place. Turning a corner, he again went to check on the scientist.

Hopefully, resting had done Farockaway some good as well.

But The Scientist was gone, no longer slumped in the same place. The Owner felt a welling sense of rage. How dare he just leave me like this? He'd come back to check on Farockaway but evidently Farockaway had not deigned to do the same for him!

Then he thought again – perhaps Farockaway didn't know where to find him. Perhaps he'd assumed The Owner had himself left the building and done the same. He needed to know what had happened.

Moving more quickly now, The Owner made to exit the laboratories, pausing along the way to change his clothes and put on some overalls instead of the white lab-coat.

The research complex and the laboratories were under tight security for obvious reasons. Where could Farockaway have got to? He can't have gone far, that's for sure.

But for now the priority of The Owner was to get as far away as possible himself. He found his AirPod and set an automatic course for his private quarters in the nearest city. He'd contact Ffedde from there then return to Sirosan-2.

AirPods used technology that was based on the way birds fly. The Owner fitted some wings made of various metals and other fibres and materials to his back then picked up four, small and light engines each of which developed around 50 kilos of thrust, creating enough lift from the aerofoil strapped to his back to negate the effects of gravity. At first, after the wings were unfolded electrically, he became a glider then, when the four engines were turned on, he became a small jet plane steering purely by intuition. Like a bird, he would be able to adjust his 'trim' with incredible precision, with the flick of a foot or by simply leaning his body one way or the other.

It was effectively a rocket-propelled hang-glider. Landing was with the aid of a parachute and balloons.

Despite every attempt at comfort – placing the passenger in an inner sphere protected by automatic hydraulics – AirPods nearly always left one with a dizzy feeling. This was the last sensation that The Owner felt he needed right now. He quickly engaged the parachute and the AirPod glided down in the vicinity of the labs. He then closed his eyes and slept.

Chapter 44

'What do we do now?' asked Idiacoz after the sounds had been lulled for a long time.

'I think we should just surrender. What can we do?' said Ffedde.

'There's no escape,' agreed The Doctor, 'There's no-one from the Leaderless to show us a different way out.'

'We could stay here and sit it out,' said Silvacolla. 'Wait here until they go away…'

No-one took this comment seriously.

'Perhaps if we split up – we'd have more chance of some of us making it out,' Ffedde told the Doctor privately.

Just then an object appeared at the end of a corridor – it was a sphere which rolled towards them. 'What is it?' asked Ace, who had been the first to spot it.

'It's a drone,' said Ffedde. 'It's like a robot or probe come to find us.'

The ball was quick to arrive and the Doctor and Ace instantly moved back suspecting that there was some kind of gas or poison or even an explosive device inside. Instead, nothing happened and they noticed that everyone else didn't seem so scared but instead covered their ears. As Ace and the Doctor hesitated there was a loud shrieking sound that came from the object. The noise became more and more shrill until it was unbearable and then some more. It seemed to get into your brain through your bones.

It was the same whistling sound – only more intense – that the Leaderless Collective had used when Ace first met them at the museum. Just for good measure, it now produced a thin smoke. The effect was to force everyone to lie down covering their ears.

In a matter of seconds, guards rushed in and took everyone prisoner.

Afterwards Ace could only recall it being pitch black and then a guard heavily pushing her face into the ground and standing on her with one foot. He took her arms and tied them together with a kind of liquid glue, then did the same with her knees so that she would subsequently find it hard to walk properly. She was dragged to her feet and a hood placed over her head, obscuring all light. The Doctor had a similar experience, something he'd never been through before.

She could hear some familiar voices. A number of the Leaderless had also been captured – perhaps all of them. Some offered dissent but a few pummelling sounds ended in silence and then groans.

The prisoners were led away then their legs were freed and they were made to stand spread-eagled learning against a wall. Occasionally, they would be made to move in one or other direction very slowly.

Through the, rather hot, almost suffocating hood, Ace could hear voices which were met with demands for silence from the guards. Sometimes a machine could be heard in the distance.

After a long time standing they were made to walk out of the maze, still hooded. The walking was stop-start, as if she was in a queue or something like that. A couple of times she felt a pat, first on her forehead with the flat of a hand and later on her back, as if a label was being attached. Occasionally, there were scanning sounds and other buzzes. The instructions to go left or right were announced as if they were dividing the prisoners up.

They were being taken to a vehicle, knew this from the sounds they heard. Then someone grabbed Ace firmly by the arm and used a foot to unbalance her. The arm slowly lowered her to the ground where she remained for a long time, almost drifting into sleep, were she not occasionally prodded by a guard's foot. This would always take Ace by surprise but after the third prod she decided to play dead. It didn't work as the guard simply prodded her harder still until she moved.

She lost all track of time and drifted into a daze but was woken when the floor started to vibrate and g-forces pressed against her, it seemed to go on an eternity.

Like the others Ffedde had an even greater fear of what this meant. During the Dirty Wars, the regime would take prisoners into the sky and throw them into the sea. He could think of no other fate awaiting him.

Sometime into their journey, Ace felt something on her feet before she was violently spun round 180 degrees. Then someone was undoing the belt around her neck and loosening the hood. With a swift tug, the hood was removed and Ace had to half close her eyes against the sudden light. A buzzing sound saw her arms and knees freed and by the time she could focus, two guards, floating in front of her, had moved on to do the same to others.

Looking around her, she recognized the Doctor, Idiacoz, The Owner and Ffedde. They were weightless, floating inside a space craft but Leaderless people were absent and Ace feared for them.

Farockaway, becoming conscious and finding himself alone, panicked. It was the first time he'd had that sensation for longer than he could remember. He'd had a feverish sleep and was feeling hot and uncomfortable.

Raising himself up, he took a machine from a draw and switched it on. The wonders of electronic medicine.

The Owner had disappeared. Farockaway had been abandoned and left to face the consequences. An electromagnetic pulse like that – who knows what would have happened elsewhere? The whole planet may have been knocked out. Something to do with Space Weather and SkyLights perhaps.

Unless. Unless, it had something to do with the experiment and... He had to get out. Many of his worst fears were about to be confirmed. He was going to be made a scapegoat. The Owner would see to that.

Quickly changing his clothes for overalls found in a maintenance cupboard, Farockaway left the complex through a service exit.

Taking a Pod from the complex was out of the question, especially the Pod he had arrived in. It would be too easy to trace him. Instead, Farockaway decided to take the ArrowTube to get as fast and as far away as possible.

The ArrowTube was designed for long-distance travel from hub to hub. AirPods carried one or two passengers short distances; ArrowTubes dealt with long distance travel.

The ArrowTube was simply a hollow arrow that was catapulted high into the sky and then floated to its final destination, being slowed on its glided descent by parachutes and, if necessary, retro rockets.

The problem would be in waiting for the next scheduled take off and then getting on board without attracting attention. The risk was that he would be scanned doing so and it would be easier to trace his movements. That was a long term problem – he needed to be a long way away by the time someone started looking for him. Hopefully, at least.

After some time waiting and resting and thinking up a strategy, Farockaway found himself in the Arrow. As soon as the launch had taken place, he stood up and wandered into a corridor looking out for Inspectors.

Although it didn't take long to clear the stratosphere then plunge back towards the planet, Farockaway was getting nervous. Seeing an Inspector, he changed direction and walked quickly to the other end of the Arrow – only to find another Inspector. There were two, in fact, both converging.

Thinking quickly, Farockaway headed for the canteen section of the Arrow where he would have to come up with a plausible excuse not to be scanned, however when he arrived it was shut.

He felt horrible. The Arrow was getting nearer and nearer to the point where the parachutes are deployed, whilst all the time, the inspectors were getting nearer and nearer down the Arrow, coming towards him.

There was a dull thud - the parachutes were now out – meaning landing was imminent. The Arrow would now glide the last part of the journey, half a planet away from the labs, all the while with the

Inspectors getting nearer and nearer to him so there was no way Farockaway could avoid them anymore. He turned and had to walk past one.

Farockaway walked past and sure enough the Inspector said 'Can I have your scan, please?'

This was it. He'd been caught fleeing the scene and evading a scan. No-one would believe anything but the worst.

The end of an illustrious career in shame – in detention even. He'd almost got away undetected but they'd thwarted him at the last minute.

Fortunately however, and not for the first time, Farockaway used his wits and managed to retrieve the situation. I think I'm going to be sick he said and retched in front of the Inspector.

Fate helped too - there was quick a jolt to the Arrow and he fell to his knees. 'Just a moment. Let me sit down first,' he said.

The Inspector asked, 'Is there anything I can do?'

'I'll be fine thanks.' There was another jolt and he made the sound of pain. 'I just need to sit like this a moment. Motion sickness.'

The Inspector suggested Farockaway got to his feet and returned to his seat. 'I'll be ready in no time,' added Farockaway. 'I'll be back there.'

The Inspector allowed him past but obviously Farockaway had been faking. He went back to his non-existent seat as the Arrow was about to land on the bags of gas now inflated around it. Farockaway thought he'd made it but to his horror the Inspector was coming down the Arrow towards him once again.

Farockaway stood up and went to the luggage compartment acting as if he were looking for a bag. As the Arrow doors opened he leapt out and disappeared into the night only to slip and fall into water. This was not going to be much fun. Pulling himself out, the scientist was overcome by a genuine nausea. He needed to sleep again – and now his face was tingling, burning, as if he'd spent too much time under the suns.

Was it radiation? He picked himself up and moved into a gap between two rocks. He needed to lie down. Continuing to feel the heat he removed his overalls. 'So hot…' he said to himself and fell unconscious.

Chapter 45

'I've called you all here,' said Spessogack, 'because we face an unprecedented emergency. Firstly, the – for want of a better word – legality of The Owner or Silvacolla or whoever. There's the thorny question of whether he is official dead or not. If The Owner is dead and Silvacolla lives, the latter is entitled to nothing: he has no role, no status, no nothing.'

Spessogack looked at the prisoners in turn as he stared around the table, his eyes settling on the Doctor at the head of it.

Before the Doctor had uttered a single word, Ace leapt to her feet. 'Where are my friends?' she said.

'Friends?'

'The Leaderless Collective. The last time I saw them was just before you attacked us. Where are they?'

Spessogack held an expression of superiority on his face. 'They have been taken for a debriefing…'

'When can I see them?'

'I'm afraid you can't, not yet.'

'Where are they?' Ace insisted.

'They're not here; they're on another moon. Now if we can continue… I wanted to say that, if we still regard The Owner as alive, then it is a question of finding a way for him to continue. We need to make a binding decision and, as you can imagine, we don't want to let too many people in on this affair. I don't feel comfortable making a decision alone – though I will do so if that is what I feel is necessary. I need your advice.'

The Doctor now rose to his feet. 'What a dirty sordid affair it all is,' he began. 'Lying and scheming politicians, the secret services undermining the democratic process, the polluting of a perfectly good planet, pseudo-science for political expediency, murder and assassination, spin, lies, damn lies and more damn lies and spin. Divide and rule, conquer the week, govern in your own interests not impartiality, cheat, privatise, steal, mislead… Unchecked development, corruption, fiddles and phonies. A lackey media that's run to support the most horrendous policies, totally biased and not at all in the public interest. Media freedom? Well, it's free all right but it's the kind of freedom that I don't want anything to do with. The freedom to cheat and trick and exploit; the freedom to lie and mislead, a lack of responsibility or any morals or ethics. Media freedom is a corpse in your mouths!'

Spessogack raised a hand, 'We know, Doctor. But the question I've called you all here to discuss today is whether The Owner should be allowed to continue as before. You do understand what I'm getting at, don't you?'

'You mean, is this Silvacolla character still The Owner? I'm afraid he is. Yes, he will have a different persona but he is still The Owner, just like I am still the Doctor when I regenerate. I don't think we can have neat cut-off points. There is enough of The Owner in Silvacolla for him to still be considered The Owner. Indeed, Silvacolla is only a new name for a new stage in his life – a life which began as The Owner'.

'So he would, under that definition, rightfully continue to be The Owner?'

'Yes, but as The Owner, he should be held accountable for his behaviour.'

'Can I say something?' said The Owner interrupting.

All eyes turned to the disgraced Owner.

'Please…' said Spessogack nodding.

'I've learnt something from this experience – I've learnt many things.' He looked at Idiacoz but she looked away. 'I've learnt that you should be careful what you wish for. Look, I'm not expecting you to believe I've turned over a new leaf but I am prepared to renounce all of my legal privileges and power. I quite like being Silvacolla actually,' again he looked in the direction of Idiacoz, as if pleading for her to understand. 'I'm tired of being The Owner – so many enemies, so much to live up to.'

'You do realise that your experiments put the whole planet and it moons in jeopardy, don't you?' said Spessogack.

'I do. I risked my own life and the life of Farockaway – not to mention the guards that were killed. I didn't realise that I had so many enemies, so many people so very hostile. I thought it was just envy.'

'You tread over ordinary people,' said Idiacoz.

The Owner lowered his gaze.

'And you just left Farockaway to die!' she yelled.

Ace put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.

Spessogack intervened. 'And you Ffedde. You knew about all of this yet you did nothing.'

The bodyguard shifted from side to side. 'I didn't do much, that's true. But I had to get to the bottom of things rather than acting hastily.'

'You had a specific job, is that not right?'

'That's right.'

'You were meant to shadow the Owner, to know his whereabouts and make sure he didn't get into trouble?'

'That's correct.'

'Yet you allowed The Owner to be killed.'

'But he wasn't killed.'

'Well, that's a matter of opinion. He was certainly in danger.'

'The Owner is always in danger. My remit was to protect him by predicting unforeseen dangers and knowing where he was at all times.'

'I don't think you have much of a future in the field of personal bodyguard security. I think we can safely say that you failed in this regard.'

'I don't believe I failed,' said Ffedde defiantly. 'I always knew where he was – even when others feared he was dead – even others who had 'seen' his assassination with their own eyes… I knew he was alive and I was able to stay on top of the situation.'

'So I hear you say – but I don't think anyone watching the recording of what happened will see it that way.'

The Doctor interrupted. 'The plasma ball that appeared to kill The Owner and did kill the guards, came from within him. He was under stress and his regenerating body reacted violently. It wasn't Ffedde's fault.'

Spessogack didn't react but simply moved on. 'And now, Idiacoz. Firstly, I'd like to thank you for getting involved in trying to find Farockaway. We still need someone to be on the case…'

'If no-one has found a body... I can't believe he's dead. Perhaps he's in hiding,' she said. 'He said that's what he'd do…'

'If he is, we hope he will come out of hiding. I don't want to have to strip him of his titles but if he won't face the music…'

'Don't you think he's more sinned against than sinning?' said Ffedde.

'Aren't all the great sinners? But it doesn't matter. The law is the law. It's the same for everyone.'

'Well, not everyone,' said Idiacoz indignantly.

The Owner said, 'Farockaway was working on the project for me. The only way to justify the amounts spent on the Regeneration Project was to have him working on the SkyLights for longer than necessary, but that wasn't so difficult to work out – the Doctor worked them out very quickly, didn't you Doctor? It was me who ordered him to deceive everyone. I told him it was in the interests of security.'

'Yes, I thought it was going to be complicated but the SkyLights mystery had been resolved by Farockaway long ago. He just hid his findings and then ploughed all SkyLight resources into Artificial Regeneration research.

'That's right, Doctor. But we were only experimenting on a plant. It was by mistake that I regenerated, I didn't intend to. I could have died...'

'If only,' said Idiacoz.

'It was only a partial regeneration,' the Doctor told everyone, 'Some of his cells regenerated, others died, many remained the same but then I got injured again, before the effects of his regeneration has kicked in.'

'That's how it felt,' said The Owner.

'So you partially regenerated and then, the incident in your quarters at the lab – you were unwell – forced yet another regeneration on you. You've probably regenerated but only partially, on a number of occasions, not just once or twice. It's not impossible that it will happen again.'

'I don't mind,' he said.

'Yes, but there's an upper limit before you just die,' the Doctor told him.

Spessogack continued to ask a series of questions to help him consider his conclusion. Before that, he summoned the Doctor to a private meeting.

'What is going to happen is that we declare that there was an assassination attempt on The Owner organised by both Pigmal and Montented – we've plenty of evidence of wrongdoing against both.'

'But won't they contest the evidence?' asked the Doctor.

'Dead men tell no tales,' said Spessogack.

'I see,' said the Doctor, nodding. 'How very convenient. How did you do it?'

'You want the truth?' Spessogack asked him.

The Doctor merely stared at Spessogack accusingly.

'They died in the fire fight when our troops came in to rescue you all.'

'And you expect me to believe that?'

It was Spessogack's turn to look at the Doctor accusingly. 'No!' he said. 'So, as a result of this horrific assassination attempt by Spessogack and Pigmal, on The Owner, who you and your assistant had done so much to protect and hide in the maze, The Owner was seriously injured and has had to have reconstructive surgery – I don't know how we can explain the loss of height but we'll manage – we can think of something later. Unfortunately, for The Owner this close call means retiring from public life. Much of his wealth, tied up in the moon franchises, has been lost because he has now renounced the franchise – including his stakes in the other moons.'

'You want my opinion?' asked the Doctor.

Spessogack looked at the Doctor as if pleading for his approval, then his face hardened and he said, 'No.'

The Doctor said nothing.

'Go on then,' said Spessogack. Let's hear it.

'I think it would be a mistake to trust The Owner.'

'We don't trust him, which is why he'll be monitored.'

'But it doesn't matter where he is so much as how you can possibly know what he's doing'

'We have excellent surveillance up here Doctor.'

'You can never be one-hundred percent.'

'It works like this, Doctor. Try to imagine, if you will, that you are in one room and you go into another and turn the light on. Do you realise that millions, if not billions of eyes are upon you? I mean, they may not necessarily all be eyes as we know them, but there are billions of creatures that respond to your presence in that room. Some of them will see you clearly, like the larger insects do; others will see a presence, a shape or a large shadow; some will see that it has become light, where before it was dark. There are living entities in that room that will see an aura around you, maybe the electricity you give off, in the same way some creatures 'see' electricity, some might be using primitive sonar to look inside you. Then are those who will detect a change in temperature and the fact that this change is coming from you. Some will have heard your arrival or felt vibrations and so it goes on. Now imagine you could pool all of that information from insects and bacteria and microbes – funguses and moulds even - and have it relayed and decoded – that would be some kind of surveillance network, would it not?'

'And the technology – does it exist?'

'The technology used to get this information… Why, it's the same technology that was used to get the SkyLights data. You see, there's a key difference between the planet below and this moon – you must have noticed… No animals down there – they either all died off or had to be exterminated in order to prevent disease and infection. But what about insects and bacteria. The planet is teeming with the stuff – it mutates too quickly or is too unpredictable to be useful for what we're talking about. No, I doubt it would be possible to get the light or sound or heat, information from real bacteria, cells or insects and so on. It's theoretically possible I suppose, but would require too many resources. By the time you hook up the third million of these organisms, the first million will have reached the end of their life spans. Therefore, we have done it with artificial bacteria, specially bred for the purpose at hand – hotwired with the necessary technology. Born with it. It's like growing an ant that has a camera and a broadcasting device on its back – only smaller – much smaller. And guess what? They reproduce offspring that already have the technology built in! You don't think that sounds possible? Well, imagine that something happens and it's a bit of a mystery. How would you know what really happened for sure? One thing you might do is go back in time and witness it, maybe from a different vantage point, and with the benefit of hindsight, see exactly what happened. Now, is travelling back in time, really any more farfetched than what I have just described?'

When The Owner was told of Spessogack's decision he simply shrugged his shoulders.

'Furthermore, you will never participate in the political system ever again,' Spessogack added. 'You're too old and too ill – officially.'

The former Owner nodded his head in resignation.

'That's a yes, is it?' said Spessogack.

'Yes.'

'Good man.'

Idiacoz interrupted. 'What about all of the victims? All of those soldiers and guards?'

'They died doing their duty.'

'They died because of the illegal activities of The Owner who is now being let off,' she said.

'They also died because of the illegal experiments of a scientist who has gone incognito. Perhaps his team helped him? Perhaps they should be hunted down and interrogated? What shall we do if we find him? Are we on the same wavelength?' Spessogack stared at Idiacoz harshly; she nodded and averted her gaze.

'And one more thing,' Spessogack added now pointing at The Owner. 'You must never dabble with this technology ever again. Have I made that clear?'

'Quite clear,' said The Owner.

'Good. And now to practicalities. First of all, I will be in - reluctant and temporary - charge. This means that we don't need to 'clamp down' the old way. With Pigmal and Montented out of the way, that won't be necessary - their threat has passed - at least not now.'

'Why do you think anyone will obey you?' said Idiacoz.

'What other sources of power are there?' asked Spessogack. 'My department has the biggest budget, the best weapons and the best information and surveillance sources. Who best to turn to in an emergency? What alternatives are there? There was never any democracy to begin with on Sirosan-2 but we intend to set a date for elections, once we've agreed a structure.'

Ace spoke, 'How can you be sure that The Owner won't get up to his old tricks and start trying to build the technology again.'

'Oh, but I won't,' said The Owner.

'You say that now,' the Doctor said, 'and I'm willing to believe that you mean it but it might become tempting as you get older and have more time on your hands!'

Spessogack spoke. 'You forget, Doctor that we will be monitoring The Owner all of the time, not to mention everyone else.'

'If you're so clever at monitoring, how come you don't know what's happened to Farockaway?' It was Idiacoz again.

'We knew Farockaway was on planet Sirosan.'

'Is that it?'

'Yes, but we're here to talk about the moon, not the planet. I'm only talking about Sirosan-2. Who cares about the planet? Oh, I nearly forgot: The Owner will not to be allowed to leave Sirosan-2. We'll need someone to shadow him – follow his every movements - and report on them.'

'I think it would be more fitting to make The Owner stay on the planet - perhaps to die with it,' said Idiacoz.

'Are you sure you can really keep tabs on him, Ace questioned. 'I mean you lot managed to lose him before,'

Ffedde felt the question was aimed at him personally.

'I didn't lose him,' said Ffedde.

'No-one lost him, Doctor,' said Spessogack. 'We always knew where he was; just not what he was doing.'

'I have a question,' said Ffedde.

'Go ahead.'

'For the Doctor.'

'By all means.'

'What I don't understand is how you came to be here in the first place. How did you meet Spessogack?'

'My spacecraft was stranded and we were rescued.'

'But that wasn't official policy,' said Ffedde. 'The policy of the Sirosan-2 government and of these murderers here has been to attack alien spaceships. I don't buy the idea that you just arrived here by chance: the right time and the right place?'

'Well, I'm often to be found in the wrong time at the wrong place just as often, if not more,' the Doctor joked.

'It sounds too much of a coincidence. I suspect that you were brought here deliberately.'

'Well, you're right in a way. I did think that the TARDIS, as it is called, maybe materialised because of the solar weather, which is why I explored the phenomena more carefully – including Farockaway's SkyLights project. In fact, I know now that what caused the TARDIS to materialise where it did, was due to Farockaway's experiments. I think the magnetic pulse that stopped the TARDIS, the plasma bubble and so on are linked to that experiment. It's what caused The Owner to become Silvacolla and Farockaway to disappear.'

No-one said a word so the Doctor continued. 'You meddle with time at your peril – and everyone else's.'

'You mean there was a time distortion?' enquired Ace.

'That's the oldest cliché in the book but, yes, if The Owner and Farockaway were using a type of metamorphic symbiosis, that would have most likely been the cause.'

No-one had anything to add and the meeting was closed with the Doctor left feeling highly unsatisfied with the resulting state of affairs. It was one thing for The Owner to agree to relinquish his position, 'But for how long?' the Doctor had asked.

The entourage headed towards the TARDIS with Ace and the Doctor in discussion about something Idiacoz had asked her.

'I don't know,' was his reply.

'Do you think it will work out,' asked Ace.

'But I don't know. I think that banning The Owner from public life could backfire.'

'How so?'

'Because he will have too much time on his hands. At least when he had to live up to The Owner image, he was busy. The problem for me is the time he'll have to rekindle the regeneration technology. He already has the theory. I can't see him resisting.'

Ace tried to reassure him. 'The Owner's not a scientist. He wouldn't know where to begin.'

'Yes, but what if Farockaway comes out of hiding? What if The Owner finds him? It could all start again. The temptation is too great.'

'So,' said Spessogack whose acute hearing had taken everything in. 'Are we agreed that this is the best course of action?'

'Well, you obviously understand my misgivings.'

'I've dealt with that.'

'Have you really? Well, you certainly come out of it very well, don't you?' said the Doctor.

Spessogack was silent so the Doctor pressed home his point. 'There's a power vacuum and all of the leading contenders are either compromised in some way or dead. You reaction is to tell lie after lie, fabrication after fabrication.'

'What alternative do I have?'

'You have plenty.'

'Such as.'

'Resign. But…' he paused for breath. 'You won't do that will you? Because you've got your eyes on the prize. Well, you asked my opinion and I disagree with you, it's as simple as that.'

'And what, pray tell, are you going to do about it?'

The Doctor smiled and nodded.

'Exactly Doctor. Even if you could stop me, what would you achieve? Who would be the next dictator? You?'

'It doesn't have to be this way. There can be elections.'

'All in good time.'

'That's what all dictators say.'

'That's politics.'

Idiacoz was fuming at what she heard. 'Doctor?' she asked awkwardly.

The Doctor knew the question before it left Idiacoz's lips. 'Could I come with you?'

He put on a sympathetic face. 'No, I'm sorry. You're stuck with Spessogack and The Owner! Ace has already asked on your behalf. I told her no.'

'I don't know what you've got to be so happy about!' shouted Idiacoz and she directed a look of disgust at the former Owner who was smiling to himself.

'Look, I'm sorry again that I mislead you,' said The Owner.

'You don't know how much damage you have done,' said Idiacoz.

'Did you prefer me when you thought I was Silvacolla?'

'Yes,' she said.

'So what's the problem?' he asked.

'Now, I know I hate you. That's the problem! I just want to be away.' She turned to the Doctor ready to ask again.

'I could make it up to you,' said The Owner.

'The Doctor has an unlimited universe and time travel!' said Idiacoz disdainfully. 'How could you possibly think to compete with that? Anyway, who do you think you are? You can't buy me!'

'I didn't mean it that way. I meant that I could make amends. I can restore the planet below.'

'And bring back all of the people whose lives you've damaged?'

'I'm sorry about them. But I've changed… I can do good.'

The Doctor interrupted, stepping forwards challengingly. 'Tell her, go on. Tell everyone.'

'He'd have to admit it was his pollution that contributed to the demise of Sirosan in the first place,' Idiacoz blurted.

'What?'

'Tell everyone how you are going to restore the planet below,' said the Doctor.

'I can do it. It will go back to being normal eventually.'

'HOW?'

'It'll be through hard work and skill.'

'If the planet eventually returns to normal it won't be because of anything good.'

'What do you mean, Doctor,' asked Idiacoz.

'Shall I tell them?'

'Go ahead,' agreed Spessogack, bemused as to what the Doctor was talking about.

'It's like this,' began the Doctor. For every immigrant ship you unnecessarily shoot out of the sky you are creating dust particles. These spread thinly round the globe, reflecting sunlight away.' He looked at Idiacoz. 'Effectively, as Pasorlid once pointed out, this can lead to global dimming, less sunlight, less of the greenhouse effect and the planet will return to its previous situation.'

'Idiacoz can help me, guide me,' said The Owner. 'I'll work to make things better. Together we can…'

'How can I ever believe that?' interjected Idiacoz. 'Besides, I don't care whether you have changed: I'm the one who has changed.'

'You remember the interrogation, where we had no option but to tell the truth under the influence of gas?'

'So?'

'Well, the reason I wasn't discovered,' he checked himself 'that The Owner wasn't discovered, was because I had left The Owner behind, I didn't remember, I no longer thought like him. I was no longer The Owner.'

'I still don't get it. What are you today? Sweet Silvacolla or The Awful Owner?!'

The Doctor informed everyone, 'He's less confused now.'

'So you see…' began The Owner, but he stopped short as Idiacoz shook her head in defiance.

There was a lull in the conversation as they reached the TARDIS.

'Well, Doctor. What do you think?' said Ace.

'About having someone interesting to talk to on the TARDIS? Wow!' he said.

'That's what I was thinking,' replied Ace. 'It would be great for Idiacoz too.'

'I'm afraid the answer's still no. It's a tough universe out there.' He turned to Idiacoz, 'Ace will tell you. Besides, there's a lot of work to be done here, a lot of mess to be cleared up.'

'I understand, Doctor,' said Idiacoz.

'People like you… you're going to be needed here. With your expertise. You've got some big shoes to fill.'

'She smiled.'

The Doctor turned to Spessogack deliberately. 'Hasn't she?'

'She has, Doctor, she has,' replied Spessogack nodding slowly. 'I believe we all have.'

EPILOGUE

It's nice here – the kind of place I would like to have retired to.

I didn't want to retire; I wanted to carry on working and studying.

Now, I can work and study here. And no-one will bother me this time.

It takes some getting used to, this moon, and these people, this institution for the lost, but it won't be forever.

I've got to find a way to retrieve my personal information, my notes and all the rest of it. That will come in time.

I'm still confused on occasions but I'm just glad to still be alive.

My memory's a lot better now – I can remember all sorts of things.

I need to sleep a lot but a lot less than before.

I'll make a full recovery and then, no-one knows me…

I know what went wrong now, and I know how to put it right. I deserve the chance. It's mine now. Not The Owner's, not anyone else's.

Next time, I want things to go more smoothly. A new body, a better body, a better new mind.

At my age, what else is there to look forward to?

All I need to do is get The Undead's formula back and decipher it properly this time…