"So, what did you think of the future, Ace?" asked the Doctor.

"Well, it was weird, wasn't it? It's not as bad as all that. That war never happened, did it, Professor?"

"The Third World War? No. Not yet."

"You mean it does later?" asked Ace.

"I wouldn't want to spoil it for you, Ace," replied the Doctor.

They'd spent quite some time mopping up. What Ace had taken to be sound equipment had turned out to be the mind control rays that Barry had been using. He'd bought them from the market on Petticoat Lane ages back, which was a bit worrying, but not something they could do something about now. Steve was much better. The last they'd seen him he was trying to get rid of that coat. The Doctor wouldn't have it back, but he recommended a second-hand clothes shop in Islington that might take it.

"But it wasn't all that great, either. Those people saying they liked things even though they didn't really. What's that all about?"

"I couldn't say," said the Doctor. "It's certainly something I've never done."

"What I don't understand is why it didn't affect us," asked Ace.

"We got knocked out at the same time they did," pointed out the Doctor.

"But after that we were fine, weren't we? We knew something was wrong."

"We're time travellers. We had a reason to be anachronistic, unlike the rest of them. They were vulnerable."

"I see," said Ace, although she didn't really.

They entered the Tardis.

"Here, Professor. Let me get this straight, does this mean that you seriously used to wear that coat?"

"Well, Ace, I was a different man, then..."