I'll admit it. Proof and circumstance are forcing me to admit it.

Soul was, a little bit, a tiny, bordering inconsequential bit, right. I've been a tiny bit thick. Or rather I've been a nice person, of liberal and accepting mind, willing to believe and not be cynical about things. Yes, that's it. That's a better explanation. Right, that's what we're going with, scrap that bit about Soul being right. I'm not stupid, I'm just nice.

Getting to know me. Soul wants in.

Since it's been here, it has visited both Jessica and River. If, as is my practically-confirmed-suspicion, the Silence sent it here, then it's no leap to assume that Soul knows enough about them to be able to form a psychic link. Don't ask me how it works just yet, I'm working on that. I'll let you know. But it's got something to do with shoe sizes and favourite pets and childhood memories. Some kind of telepathic password, perhaps. Now it's working on me, and very nearly finished.

And it's Soul's turn to ask the question.

"You know," I say, because it doesn't seem to be rude and probably won't talk over me, "You're reacting very badly to losing your physical form, in my opinion. Think about it. You've become a being of pure thought. You're immortal, practically. You can hop into any body you please, with a little care and attention, do anything, go anywhere. A lot of people would kill to be in your position."

It stops at a crossroads of corridors and stamps River's foot, demanding, "Console room!"

I point it left and try not to smile too broadly at its evident frustration. "I mean, I can only speak for the average Gallifreyan, of course, but it's so difficult taking care of an actual body, isn't it? Just a constant succession of everyday chores and hygiene and grooming and feeding and clearing out… What were you, Soul, male or female? Ever had to shave? It's a pain, it really is. And then all they do is go and get sick and break on you anyway. You're free of all that."

We have reached the console. Soul is standing at the top of the stairs, with me following along at the bottom. It spins on me, but without looking down. Looking up instead, into the dome of the ceiling. It speaks, and makes River's voice low and mean, but heartfelt. "Well then, I'll tell you what, Doctor. You find me a candidate, the right gender, age and body type, and you help me figure out how to swap, and we'll call it quits, you and I." It's looking up to keep the tears in River's eyes and not rolling. I could wonder which of them that is, which of them I've hurt, but there's no time. It doesn't make a difference anyway; Soul is vulnerable and that can only be for the good. I start up the stairs. It turns from me and goes to Jessica, still sitting where she fell before, hugging her knees with her head down low. "Hello, love," she tries, that soft, cooing tone River uses when she's trying to make friends with the weak. Jessica pulls up and scatters back to the rail.

"I didn't mean to offend you, Soul," I say, quite level, quite calm, quite quiet. "I was merely pointing out that, whatever it is you may think I go on to do to you, that maybe I've done you a favour."

That, I believe, is what is known as hitting a nerve. Repeatedly, in an up-and-down motion, with a cheese grater. Soul stands and comes towards me with such force and purpose that, yes, I retreat a step or two. In fact, I might turn around and make it a more definite retreat, if it didn't catch up with me a bit faster than I had expected. It gets me by the throat again, again with River's long strong hand and, since this time it wants more than caffeine or chocolate, this time it squeezes.

"Someday," it says. No tone, nothing to describe, just says. "Someday I am going to take this body and I am going to kill you with its bare hands. There will be nothing you can do to stop me." Over her shoulder, Jessica is up from the railing and silently behind it in a matter of seconds, and the stake is grown long on either arm. Ready for each of River's hearts. As much as I can, I shake my head to her. Soul laughs, "And the Little Ghost back there will react just exactly the way she just did. I want you to know that this is coming, Doctor. And I want you to know that when your wife is murdering you that they will be my eyes you'll be looking into, and I'll be smiling. You'll die together, the Silence will reclaim Jessica Apple as the weapon of their revolution, and I will be gone."

I want to tell it I don't believe it, but for one, I am currently choking quite badly on the hand around my throat, and for another, I've got a terrible feeling it's telling the truth. I don't know when it's come from, how it knows, but there's something here to fear. At any rate I have no doubt whatever that it is more than prepared to go through with the scenario when the time comes.

Presuming she has been ignored, Jessica reaches up and taps Soul on the shoulder with the end of the stake. Soul half-smiles and releases me.

"Just you try it," I tell it.

"There's nothing you can do."

"Well, I've heard that before."

"And that's why you're arrogant. You really shouldn't be, you know, not with what you've got coming-" It might go on, might tell me more. But River's body suddenly buckles back. Soul mutters 'No's and mutters profanities that must refer to River, and a moment later, Jessica jolts in much the same way.

"Not kosher, Doctor Song!" Soul cries. Back in Jessica now.

"You were warned!" River shouts back, turning from me and charging, fearless of the stakes, to stand toe to toe with Soul. "You were told how far you could go!"

"And who warned him not to push me?"

"Push you?" I cut in, around River. It's not that I'm hiding behind her, it's just that she's between the two of us. This isn't the time to ask her to move, or to speak from the side, or any such thing. No, much easier to stay at her shoulder here. Behind her gun hand. But that's a total coincidence. "All it did was mention your current lack of corporeal manifestation."

"My what?"

"The fact that you have no feet, dear."

"Bastard," it breathes, and launches at me, but that's why River is between us. She grabs hold of Soul at Jessica's wrist and turns the arm, stake and all, up behind her back. "Don't worry, I'm not going to kill him. That's your job." River jerks the arm a little harder. Soul winces, recoils. Huddled in Jessica's pain, it lifts the eyes to me, though no more. "Owner am been having one more rule for it. Him am wanting to hear it? She not makes him have to be asking the question."

River yanks it by the arm and starts to drag it to the door. "I think you've said enough, don't you?"

"Wait," I say. "If it's the last one, we might as well let it speak."

"No, my love."

"Yes, River."

Soul rolls Jessica's head back onto her shoulder and grins, in a strained and brief and terrifying way, at River, then rolls back to me.

"Though no Twoheart has a soul," she begins, "though each and every one of them is rotten and wants to destroy you, there is one you must fear more than any other. He lives for cruelty, and you are forbidden even his name." River sighs. Lets go of the arm. Sits down very heavily on the chair by mine, that should have been hers, if she was staying. Sits with her head on one hand and won't look at me. "She knows where I'm taking this, see?" Soul says. "That's the tenth rule. And the only one which, so far as I can tell, isn't totally stupid and erroneous."

That's me. That's the words from my mind, the ones I've been thinking and haven't actually said. How close is it? What else does it know?

"You have to wonder, though, which name they actually denied her. I mean there's Doctor, yeah, but there's the Oncoming Storm, and there's Victorious, there's John Smith if you really want to push it, the General, when all they really have to do is call you Mr and Mrs Time Lord, it's not like we're going to get you confused with anybody now, are we?"

"Wait. Say that again."

"Calm down, Doctor. You know you're the last."
"Before that. The last name you said."

"What? 'The General'? You want me to say 'The General' again? That 'The General' is another name for you?"

Because I am about to charge, and because it does her great good to damage Soul in any way, River reaches out and snaps off the last stake Jessica is still wearing. Throws it to me on my first step, so that Soul backs up away from me. The stakes start to grow again, but only in that slow, unpracticed way they did before. Still not getting the hang of it, poor thing. Soul backs all the way down the stairs until it finds the door at its back and can go no further.

"Oh, go on then," it rattles, fast, desperate. "I know it's my turn, but I'll give it to you. Go on, Doctor, what's your final question?"

"Sweetie, please," River begs. Without looking, I can tell she hasn't so much as turned to look; her voice is still muffled and distant. "Think about this."

"River, I've thought about little else since I first heard that." With the tip of the stake pressed to Jessica's navel, I look Soul in the dark, misty eyes and demand, finally, to know, "'The General', Soul. What does that mean?"

It grins. Slowly at first, then broad, the lips splitting over the teeth and right back, creasing Jessica's unprepared face in ways that look painful and hisses at me, "Thank you."

I answered it, didn't I? It asked me what my final question was, and I gave it my answer.

It's an odd sensation. It's a black, fuggy feeling around the edges of the mind, like an idea you can't quite grasp, lingering beyond the ends of your fingertips. Then it reaches out, and suddenly you think of the size of your shoes. You grab for it there, to get a hold of it, to fight it off, and on the other side of your mind you hear, 'Once upon a time, there was a spoilt princess, playing with a beautiful golden orb…'

Then you flip over the stake in your hands and, rather than wound Jessica, wound yourself. Or that's what you do if you're really clever and you're not quite expecting it to hurt as much as it turns out to hurt. Jessica buckles and holds her stomach, but it's just a reaction, an incomplete transfer, affecting us both. "Christ!" balks Soul, "Psychopath!"

"You're not the first to say that," I manage, through wincing. I catch it eyeing River over my shoulder, and turn enough to through her that last scrap of the first stake I put in my pocket. She understands immediately, and holds it by her throat. "You can't stay in a damaged body, can you, Soul?"

"Yeah, well," it stammers, "I'm new to this. I'm working on that."

"And when you get there, we will be very, very worried about you. For now, though, Soul, goodbye."

I turn the stake back again. The aim is to leave a single shallow cut on Jessica's side, somewhere inconspicuous that won't trouble her too much, while Soul is still unsettled. I, however, am somewhat incapacitated myself. It's all I can do to get the stake into position. I'm not watching Soul at the same time, is the point I'm making. I don't see it swivelling Jessica's body around. Bringing my aim central again. So that when I push, the stake pierces her just below the breastbone, and sinks far deeper than the expected flesh wound.

It was not my intention.

Jessica, waking with the weapon buried in her, does not know this. She forgets to dip her face behind her hair and just looks at me, dead on, unblinking. Eyes watering, and God help me, I pray that that's the pain.