11:56 p.m.
Main Hall, McCrimmon Estate
"It'll be all right," Jackie said as she kissed Rose on the cheek. "You'll see."
"I know, Mum," Rose said. "Just something about the storm, he said. Nothing to worry about."
Pete hugged his daughter and whispered something into her ear, which caused her to pull him even tighter into the embrace. "Thanks, Dad," she said.
"Best get some sleep, now," Pete said. "Speaking from experience, soak it up while you can. Once you've got little ones…"
Rose laughed. "I will," she said. "G'night."
They headed off, with Jackie leaning heavily on Pete's arm.
The others had all gone off to bed, and even though Rory seemed eager to leave and even more ill-at-ease now that they were alone, Amy lingered in the hallway with Rose.
"We wanted to say thanks," Amy said. "For taking us in."
"Of course," Rose said. "I mean, where else would you have gone?"
"Even so…" Amy said.
Rose turned to her. "There's no point in playing about," she said. "I know why he sent you to dinner. Notice everything, am I right?"
Amy grimaced. "Right."
"Meanwhile, he's out on the grounds. Of my house. What's he thinking he'll find?" Rose brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. "There was a time when he was more… straightforward. What's happened to him?"
"Well I–" Amy began, but Rory interrupted.
"This is how he's always been with us," he said. "Brilliant and infuriating." Then he saw Amy's face brighten, and without even looking, Rory knew the Doctor had entered the building.
And up he strode, hands in his pockets, River at his side. "Your rather young pilot fellow shooed us back inside," he said, by way of explanation.
Rose said, "Prescott's head of–"
"–Security," the Doctor finished. "Sorry. He said that, didn't he?"
"What are you doing?" Rose asked.
"What am I doing?" said the Doctor.
"You're being rude," Rose hissed. "And not in your usual disarming-yet-truthful sort of way."
He bowed his head close to hers, and in a very low, very grave voice, he said, "There's something in my head, Rose Tyler."
"Doctor?" she said.
Then he clapped his hands to his eyes, cried out, and collapsed.
"Not again!" River shouted. She dropped down beside him.
"James," Rose whispered, suddenly frantic. She pulled out her wrist-com and keyed the code for the hoverlink. Only static crackled on the line.
But at that moment, they heard the scream.
11:56 p.m.
Private Quarters
Prescott Lamb switched off the lights in the main corridor and navigated his way around the stone courtyard by moonlight. Above him, the balloon still hovered, its gold silk glowing from within like a delicate lantern. When the wind blew, its music box chimes sang out several twinkling notes of its calliope song.
Remnants of the party lay strewn across the marble — lilting green and white balloons, drifts of streamers and wrapping paper, and tiny wind-up party favors. After breakfast, they'd all have a go at tidying up. Rose and James would make a game of it with the remaining kids, and it would be almost as fun as the party itself.
For now, Prescott had a separate bit of fun in mind, and that was Alicia Harmon. If things went well, as he hoped they would, she would soon be Alicia Harmon-Lamb.
As he left the main wing of the house, heading now toward the bedrooms, he thought he heard a metallic whirring coming from the opposite end of the hall. Prescott paused and strained his senses for anything unusual. He'd been well-trained at Torchwood to never take anything for granted. Normal people tended to dismiss things their minds couldn't account for; Prescott knew this often meant the difference between life and death.
The house fell silent. But he could smell something. Something… crisp, sharp, with a chemical bite to it. Like… salt?
For reasons he didn't fully understand, Prescott was already running when he heard the crash of breaking glass and a scream.
He knew before his mind registered the truth; the scream had come from Alicia's room. When he burst through the door, he found her at the foot of her bed, her wide eyes staring with terror.
He caught a glint of silver from the corner of his eye, but turned in time to see it fading away.
Unmistakable.
"No," he whispered, pulling Alicia into his arms. "Not again. Not again."
He heard the others in the doorway, heard but didn't heed them. The realization settled on him like the weight of a collapsing star. Thought she was warm in his arms, though her heart beat steady in her breast, Alicia's eyes were empty.
He felt Rose McCrimmon beside him, felt her hand on his.
"Prescott," she said. "What was it? What happened?"
He struggled to speak, and when he did, the words came out in a raw croak. "Cyberman," Prescott told them. "It was a Cyberman. They've returned."
