Part 3

Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font

. . .

The Doctor wasted no time striding back to the old tower that now housed his portable lab, breezing past a soldier who'd been left on watch at the base of it. His long legs carried him rapidly up to the circular room at the top. Jo, who'd just sat down to rest her feet, sprang back up as she heard him approaching.

He paused to orient in the new surroundings. "Jo, it's alive," he stated. "Most definitely a living creature. I felt it near me." He headed over to the table that UNIT had neatly set up. It filled half the small room, which was intended as a kitchenette.

"What? You saw it? What did it…"

"It wasn't quite visible. Not really. I tried communicating with it, but all it did was touch me and fade away. I'm convinced it's at least sentient, though how much it comprehends our world I have no idea."

She followed him over to the table. "Do you think it's dangerous?"

He fished in his pocket, pulling out the samples from the fernbrake and portico. "We don't know if it means to be. But we did see what happened to those plants, didn't we? We'll certainly need to exercise caution."

"Would you like me to ring up Sergeant Benton?"

"Oh, right. Certainly." He leaned on the table and stared at the bits of fern, his brow furrowed in thought.

"Rapunzel to Greyhound," said Jo into the radio set. "Rapunzel to Greyhound."

The Doctor rolled his eyes.

Benton's voice came over the line. "Greyhound here. How are things up in the tower, Rapunzel?"

"News is the rabbit is alive, there's been an encounter with it. He says …"

"Tell the fools not to shoot at it," the Doctor grumbled over by the table. "And it could be dangerous."

"…It's not rabbit season, but take care," Jo said.

"Roger that, Rapunzel. Anything else?"

"I need to see that landing site," the Doctor said suddenly. "Before it gets dark."

"We're going to look for…um, the rabbit's warren. Request some game wardens to come with us."

"Two wardens on the way. Greyhound out."

Jo glanced out the window. "It's nearly sunset. We should bring a torch."

The Doctor was already tucking one into a pocket. "Are you ready?" She grabbed up her coat and followed him down. They'd barely reached the bottom before two UNIT men came jogging up the path. "

"Do either of you know where that meteor's landing site was?" he asked.

"Yessir," said the first one. "That is, I haven't seen it myself but I know about where to find it. It's down near the water, though; a bit of a walk."

"That'll do. Lead the way, man. Let's see what we find."

. . .

The light was beginning to dim by the time they neared the water's edge, making their way along to where a line of yellow police tape flapped around the perimeter of the damp crater.

"Are you sure this is it?" the Doctor asked. "It isn't just a secondary crater from a fragment?"

"Yessir. This is all we've found."

He looked out at the Estuary. "Sonar scan?"

"Yessir. Waterways were clean, no sign of impact or foreign bodies. I can get you the report, if you like."

"No, no, that's not necessary."

He cocked his head to one side, visually measuring it. "Considerably smaller than I would have thought; by a significant magnitude. Yet it had enough impact to be heard some distance away. This can't be more than twelve metres across; it should have been several times that, even if our mystery object was quite small. And what's this, I wonder?" He stepped over the tape and made his way down the slope into the modest crater's bowl where water was gathering into wide brown puddles, a formation of some kind lifting up from the water and mud in the center.

"Keep an eye out, will you?" he called back to them. "The alien I encountered was a bit hard to see. Looked like a faint silver light, but wasn't hostile towards me. Still we don't know if it might take offense at our poking about, nor if it's alone."

The soldiers nodded, going to either end of the crater's perimeter and scanning the surrounding woods and waters. Jo hesitated, then hugged her coat about her and picked her way down after him, her heels sinking into the mud. "What is that?" she asked with a nod to the formation in the middle.

"I'm not sure," the Doctor said carefully edging closer to it. "It doesn't appear to be any recognizable piece of spacecraft or escape pod as I first thought. Remember those fragments that came down with the Nestenes? Oh, wait, you weren't there. Nasty lot, those, but the pods looked relatively innocent." He picked up a clod of dirt and experimentally tossed it at the center. Nothing happened. He edged closer again, ignoring the puddles. "Anyway, this doesn't resemble them. I don't think it's alive. It reminds me rather of a rock formation."

He came up to it after a moment, leaned down to look at it closely, then gingerly touched it. "Yes. There's more than one thing odd about this." He looked up at the overcast sky as if judging a trajectory. "It obviously had some ability to slow itself, but not enough to prevent a rather rough landing. If it had hit without some manner of braking this crater would be significantly wider and deeper. Yet there's no evidence of a ship, per se, nor sign of anything being dragged or trundled out of this depression." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "But there is this."

Jo came closer as he reached in his pocket for the torch and flicked it on. The thing in the center reminded her of a child's science fair project, like a papier-mâché volcano done up larger than usual, almost the dimension and height of a fat birdbath complete with water now welled in the center. It was grey-brown-red-purple and sparkled as parts of it reflected the torch's beam in the twilight.

"What is it?" she asked.

"See the crystals?" he ran his fingers over the surface of it. "These are porphryatic crystal formations, the larger crystals mixed into the rock. This sort of thing comes from molten rock cooling two ways, both quickly and slowly." He stood up and frowned at it.

"If we take into account the idea that our visitor's ship was able to melt rock, that still should have only created something flatter, with a smooth surface. Quick cooling at a shallow depth." He played the light over it again. "The porphryatic crystals come from a slow cooling, quite deep. Yet here it is. And what's more, the liquid rock cooled while still in motion." He traced up the rising sides of the sparkling font.

"Like a fountain freezing?" said Jo.

"Or like a splash," the Doctor noted, rubbing a finger across his jaw thoughtfully. "As if the elements were caught in the act of displacement, the pattern of a stone tossed in water except the water didn't fall back. It isn't as rough as I first thought either. Look, the surface is all patterned with curls, as if it were etched." He turned the light to the base, trying to see through the muddy waters, finally pulling back a sleeve and plunging his hand in to scrounge around in the mud for something.

He pulled up a wad of dripping earth and scrutinized it and sniffed at it. "Yes. Metal elements. Traces were separated out, like threads. Fascinating." He rinsed his hand in the water and refastened his cuff, then got up and walked across the crater, climbing back up to check along the water's edge, Jo squishing her way after him.

"And look at this," he said.

"Ew," replied Jo at the sight of the dead fish bobbing in the shallows, belly up.

He picked up a twig to flip it over. "A young mullet. And look," he pointed. "There's another, and part of a third. There were probably more, but they'd be gone by now. Local wildlife would make short work of them. Any fish in this immediate area must have been affected by the crash. But what did it die of, I wonder? Shock? Or something else?" He pulled a bag from his pocket and scooped the fish into it. "I'll have to take a look."

"Ew," Jo repeated. "I'm not carrying that."

The Doctor considered his pocket, then went around the crater's edge and handed it to a reluctant soldier. "Carry that for her, will you old chap?"

. . .

As they walked back up the sloping acreage they had to flick the torch back on again to not be tripping over the occasional shallow steps set in the gravel pathways. Jo was glad when she finally saw the warm glow of the tower windows where they'd left the Doctor's lamp shining. She turned to ask him about what possibilities there might be for supper when she saw something silver swirl in the air behind him.

He felt it too. They both turned, Jo automatically ducking inside the protective arm he scooped her into. They heard the soldier's footsteps hesitating up ahead, then turning.

"Stay where you are," the Doctor called to them, low but firm. They froze.

Jo felt a light touch, as if someone were drawing a feather over her hand. It made her jump and reflexively pull her hands closer to her chest, a wave of dizziness washing over her. She felt the Doctor's breath draw in.

"Can you understand us?" he asked. "Are you in need of repairs? We want to help you."

The shimmer brightened for a moment, like a net of frost, then faded away to invisibility, though the leaves of the bushes nearby still waved lightly as if in a breeze. Jo felt the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. She shivered at the sheer otherworldliness of it.

And then it was gone again.

"You know," the Doctor said, barely audible. "Not only do we know there's at least one alien presence here, I believe it's stranded." He looked down at her. "You're trembling."

"I'm all right," she said, wanting to seem courageous.

"Come, let's get you something hot. Anything is easier to face with a cup of tea."

He resumed walking up the path, Jo coming along with him still in the curve of his arm. He lifted a hand to the soldiers as they caught up to them. "Tell the Sergeant I'll talk to him shortly. And Miss Grant is in need of some good, hot tea. Go on, we'll be fine." He gestured for them to continue on. "All they'd do is shoot at it anyway…" he added in a cynical undertone.

He courteously slowed his stride to match his assistant's, steering her past the tower's walled garden and over the rise toward the tented camp the soldiers had erected by the car park. She could smell warm food cooking, the scent of baking rolls wafting from the field canteen, glad of the solid, mundane normality of it all.

Benton approached them, walking carefully so he wouldn't spill any of the hot drink he was carrying. The Doctor nodded down at Jo and Benton put it in her hands.

"Here you are, Miss."

"Really, I'm all right," she protested vaguely. She was too glad of the tea to protest too much.

"We're both fine," the Doctor said to quell any worries on Benton's part. "Just another brief glimpse, really. One good thing is it means it's staying nearby rather than roaming the countryside. Let's talk over supper, then I really must get to work."

. . .

The Doctor made short work of both his meal and his summaries then excused himself and headed for the tower lab. Jo followed more slowly, glad to find a man stationed at the base of it. They may only be able to shoot at it, as the Doctor had said, but it still made her feel better. She didn't like the idea of being watched by something invisible in the bushes.

"You know," the Doctor said as she reached the top of the steps. "While this creature is possibly hostile, based on the disappearance of the watchman, we don't really know if that was intentional hostility or not." She couldn't tell if he were talking to her or to himself. He had his samples spread out among the equipment on the table, preparing slides. She noted the ill-fated fish was among them, thankfully now sealed in a jar.

The sitting room's small windows were dark. She clicked on the standing lamp that leaned by a stuffed armchair and, as he didn't say anything else, carried her overnight bag down into the smaller bedroom/sitting room. Not that she really thought the Doctor would be using the larger bedroom even lower, he probably wouldn't even be sleeping at all; still it seemed more courteous to not assume the fancier accommodations.

By the time she came out he was peering at slides and jotting notes on a pad of paper. The fish in the jar looked significantly worse for having had the equivalent of a rapid autopsy.

"Did you feel dizzy?" she asked him, plopping down into the lone stuffed armchair again.

"Dizzy?" he lifted his head and raised a brow at her.

"When that…thing was near. When it brushed over me I felt all dizzy."

"Yes. I've noted that same disorientation effect both times. In fact, I surmise that may be what killed the fish we found."

"Killed the fish?"

"The fish we brought in was perfectly healthy, unmarked in any way. There's no trace of poisoning or other trauma. They weren't even killed by the impact. In light of our own experience, I can't help but wonder if they became disoriented and simply beached themselves, so to speak." He turned back to his work.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Hm. Hand me those slides as I go, will you? That'll speed things up. Thank you, Jo."

She got up and began handing over the fresh slides, neatly setting aside the ones he'd already taken notes on and they worked in companionable silence for a time.

"Interesting," he murmured. "Take a look at this and tell me what you see." He sat back, allowing her to peer into the scope.

"It looks like…frost, like you see on a windowpane in the winter." She looked back at him quizzically.

"Do you want to know what that frost really is? It's common garden spider-webbing. I picked it up from the portico where those two men were." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "All webbing, but all of it contorted outward into these frost-like patterns. And I was correct about the fern as well, it does continue its patterning down to a single-celled level. A patterned repetition just like the webbing."

Jo waited. Sometimes all he needed was a sounding board. She leaned back down and took another look, then switched to one of the slides with the fern frond in it.

"I noted that rippled frost pattern in three other places," he continued, crossing his arms and frowning to himself. "One was the ground around the ferns that aren't there anymore, one was the surface of that porphyry formation. The other was in the paint and glass of the door where the men were. It was very faint, but there, even in the harder substance of the glass. The odd thing is it's terribly familiar."

"It reminds me of kaleidoscopes," Jo said.

He looked up at her, his blue eyes gone wide. "That's it! Exactly! Jo, you're right!"

"What? Kaleidoscopes?"

"No, no. Not kaleidoscopes, but something similar in pattern. Have you ever heard of fractals?"

"Fractals? You mean like those psychedelic colored posters?"

"It's mathematical. An algorithm that creates an eternally branching repetitious pattern." He paused and gave her an odd look then grinned at her. "I've no idea what you mean by posters, but… Jo! You did it." He was so pleased to finally have a direction to pursue he even gave her a brief half-hug. "Now shoo. I've got a lot of work to do if I'm going to figure these out."

She smiled, and cheerfully shooed.