"So what's the plan for this war upcoming, then?"

"I thought it was my question."

"I'm not really asking, I've been there. I know what you turn into. I'm just passing time because I have no idea what you're doing." What I'm doing is burrowing a tunnel into the back of one of the Tardis' many storage cupboards. The last of three compressed air canisters is lingering just out of reach. Ultimately I ease myself back out and point in at it. "Say please, Doctor!" So I point a little more delicately, and Soul uses Jessica to writhe through my cleared path to the back, with only her little bare feet still sticking out. I cannot see, and would not comment on even if I could, if the toes actually are that little bit hairy. I can, however, confirm, the smallness and the whiteness. I am watching this as I go on.

"No, as to the war, I've tried that once. Didn't like it. To hell with this for a game of soldiers, I said to myself, if you'll pardon the pun." It begins to worm back out. Jessica's tunic has been caught up about the waist, and for once it's clear to see just what the body is doing. Shaking, slightly, on this occasion. Just juddering in a very small, very contained way. When the face comes out and I can see that it's giggling. "What?"

As it stands, dusting itself off, the laughter turns full and bright and genuinely amused. It picks up two of the canisters, dries Jessica's eyes on her sleeve and wheeze out calm, "Where are we taking these?"

"What?" I ask again, "What are you laughing at?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it."

"No, what's so funny about my being a pacifist?" And now it outright cackles, nearly stumbling, and has to set down one of the canisters a second until it can regain its composure. All of this really rather unnecessary, and unbecoming to Jessica. Not to mention it's going to be painful for her when Soul vacates the premises. It sees me staring and sobers. The dark shifts and Jessica's eyes roll.

"Oh, fine, maybe for now you are… But that's three times you asked me, so it has to count, I'm afraid. No, I was laughing at you, sir, and you saying you'd been to war. Which you haven't. Not yet."

"Excuse me, I'll have you know-"

"You're talking about Demon's Run." I had been leading it along, taking the air canisters back to River, Rory and Pond, but that stops me. "I know."

"You got this from River."

"I was there."

"You're lying."

"One way or another, Doctor, Demon's Run is just a battle. It might have felt like war to you, but that's because you're not used to it yet. Because you've never, properly, been to war."

In which case, I have no desire to see war. And it will cause me no guilt to run from it. I'll be proud to run. There will be no shame, no cowardice, no regret, in fleeing from anymore of that kind of suffering. I'm good at running, it shouldn't be too much of a problem. If you think about it, it took me nine-hundred-odd years to find out that I was ever supposed to be part of UW2. Why shouldn't it take another millennium to get round to visiting?

Kovarian said something about a war that day. What battle was that? When did I step in for that one-off cameo appearance? Before it and since it, what am I meant to have done?

But it's Soul's turn to ask the question now.

"What's your clearest childhood memory?"

"You're really pushing this whole Gallifrey angle now, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm getting personally. I mean, I could have just been all nicey-nicey and gotten this stuff later, but you haven't been the most hospitable of hosts thus far."

I don't want to think about it, you know. Not just because it's all very much ancient history and dead and gone and there's no sense in digging it all up, but because I don't want to give Soul the satisfaction. But it has said it now, and the old tide does not need to be bidden to come rushing in. It just does. Hundreds of things. Dormitories and food and fields of red grass and somewhere, even before all that, a distant blurry face before I was taken from home. "The Schism," I say eventually, "That's the clearest one. Set one can down at the far end of the hall and open it a little."

Soul picks her way around my still-sleeping companions. Halfway there, it stops and turns to me. "No, let them wake up my way! They'll be coming round soon anyway, and they'll be quite happy, and-"

"No. I want them awake very soon and totally clear-headed. Now do as you're told and put the other one up in that ceiling vent." It sigh, but goes about it. As I open out my canister at the near end, I finally take the time to assess the scene, to see for myself what happened out here. So far as I can put it together, however Soul was 'called', it started out here. Where, somehow, it found or had brought with it a hypodermic syringe containing a triple dose of chlorinol-oxytocin. It used River to administer it to the Ponds, then to administer to herself. Then left River's body and swapped to Jessica's.

No, that's not quite it.

It stopped, while these friends of mine were newly asleep, and removed their shoes. Then it swapped shells.

"I miss getting sore feet," it says, swinging down from the ceiling vent. "And pins and needles. It sounds stupid, but so would you." It kneels and checks Pond's breathing against the back of Jessica's hand. And enjoys that, you know. The feeling of air bumping off something rather than just passing straight through it. It flutters her eyelids before it catches itself and stands. "Should have let them wake up my way. They'll be like bears with sore heads, waking up on compressed air. Can I at least swap over to River before it all wears off?"

"No. After it all wears off, certainly, I would prefer that. But until then, no."

"You're no fun."

"I know."

"You're quite a good kisser, actually."

"Shut up." It's just standing there. Looking down at the floor. I have the horrible feeling that if it stands there much longer it's going to end up playing with somebody's feet again. Not something I much desire to watch, so I turn, and lead off towards the console room. Predictably enough, it's barely a step behind. It's my question anyway. "What do the Silence want? Overall, I mean."

It laughs, "So late in the game he actually learns how to play it! Don't ask it who sent it, guess and dig for more."

"Answer me!"

I don't mean to bellow at it, you know. That keeps happening, doesn't it? Angry used to be a rare thing, a surprising thing. It's getting less and less surprising when it happens, you know. It might seem to come from nowhere, but that's only when you look at it from outside. When you listen close it's absolutely natural. Everybody runs out of patience eventually. I'd say I've done exceptionally well for my age.

Soul, in fairness, seems unfazed. Just burns at me again and gives up all it has. Knowing, perhaps, that it has infinitely more damage to do than I, just now. "In sequence? The Question answered, you dead, River dead and Jessica Apple back under control."

"But why?"

"What's your name?"

"…Fine then."

I climb the stairs to the console. Soul, rather accommodatingly, stays back, hovering along the railing with both hands wrapped around it. "Bloody shell. Says you don't like her touching anything. You don't like anybody touching anything, though. She shouldn't take it so personally."

Soul said that before I could. That's the answer I was about to give it, the second part, about nobody touching anything, that's what I was about to say. I look up, probably far too quickly, and it is grinning, and a little pink tongue darts out to run over Jessica's teeth. "What else can I tell you?" it thinks aloud, before I can say anything. "Well, that they're well on course to achieving all of these objectives, I can tell you that."

"Let them try. They've sent two to kill me already and where are they now, hm? What happened to the Silence's secret weapons before?"

"They did exactly as was expected." Apparently overcoming Jessica's compulsion to stay away from the console, Soul approaches in small, slow steps. In no hurry to get anywhere, just coming closer, just because it can. "Come on. Do you think they'd send a woman, raised on stories of you and how brilliant you are, to kill you with a kiss, and expect it to work? No, they just don't want her regenerating. Now, as for Jessica… Well, so much for 'Only Owner knows where they live and where they come from'. She spotted you all by her self. Jessica, they admit, got a bit closer than she was ever supposed to, which is why they're keeping such a close eye now, but other than that, it's all gone exactly to plan. Where are they now, Doctor? They're right here. In your box. Your inner circle. Wonderful, isn't it?" It's all I can do to stare at it. I'd tell it it's lying, but I'm busy; I have to keep telling myself. Have to keep telling myself it doesn't even make sense, that there's a big old loophole in it somewhere where the sense ought to be, like a knothole in wood, but all I can see, frankly, is the flat, planed side of the plank

"Of course it makes sense," Soul finishes. "You're just kicking yourself you've been too arrogant to notice. Do you believe in ghosts, Doctor?"

"Yes."

Soul doesn't smile this time. Something like peace comes over it, but there's no expression, nothing. It just stands there like a cow. Then, slowly, enjoying it, pops each of Jessica's knuckles in turn, and curls up her too-long toes until they crackle too.

I have something else to ask it, but the moment is lost in the arrival of River from below. Staggering, using the wall as a guide, alternately croaking and barking her way through, "What the hell's going on and why can I taste chocolate?"

"Hi, River," Soul says. River looks up. Still groggy, still drugged and out of it, she focuses on what must look to her to be Jessica, standing there speaking aloud. "Oh, no, this is Soul in here."

Still groggy, still drugged and out of it, River drawls, "Oh right, right-right..." Still all of those things I've mentioned twice before, she forgets to deny all knowledge. "How's it going, then, love? Getting there?"