Right. Let's recap, shall we?

Soul is telling me that the Silence are this close to getting their way. That we're all part of some crazed, overarching chess-game of a plan. River doesn't mean to, but she's telling me she knows why Soul is here. And Soul says it's here because somebody called it here.

Now, and do just bear with me, because this might seem a wild leap of logic at first but, is it possible, at all, even slightly, that River may have been the one who called Soul here?

No, you're right, it's ridiculous. There's not even any motive.

Then again, couldn't hurt to ask.

I go to River and slide my arm beneath hers. Helping her up off the wall. There's enough oxytocin left in her system for her to lean in and giggle up at me. "Alright," I smile, humouring her, "Come up here, darling, and you have a seat, okay?" Step by step I guide her up the stairs and put her down on my chair. Because I crouch next to her she leans in, nuzzling my neck.

"How are you and Soul getting along?"

"Oh, famously. Here's a question for you, though. Just a quick one. Shouldn't be too much of a strain. Yes-or-no answer would be bloody wonderful. It's just that you placed me in a room, in which there was a transmatter disc, which I believe to have been the thing that brought Soul here. And I was just wondering, River, if you'd known that was there?"

"Well," she says, "I could tell you." There's a tone in her voice, a crispness, some little accent not quite her own. I pull back from cradling her to me. And she looks up. Something dark and shifting in the eyes. "But she doesn't want me to."

I push her off and stand away. Jessica is shaking her head by the console, just waking up. She staggers and nearly falls against the handbrake. To her credit, she realizes and reels the other way. Unfortunately that makes her fall over. She sits down hard and stays there, rubbing her forehead. "I told you to get out of there."

"And she wanted me back. The shell comes first. What about you? What are you privileging? Your wife or your question? I'll still tell you, but she'll hate you when I leave."

"She called you. She brought you here. Why? That's my question."

"You didn't change that question much, did you?" It is getting up now, using the rail to pull itself along. Going somewhere, apparently, and it doesn't respond when I demand to know where. I can tell you in absolute confidence that it is only the fact of its inhabiting River that lets it get away with this. "Why did I come here? I could answer it that way? You've made your mind up about Doctor Song here, so if it's addressed to me, she doesn't get a say."

"Fine, however you want."

It mutters something else, rambles on about my attitude, and about the seeming-endlessness of the Tardis, how neither it nor River nor Jessica can ever find anything twice and I don't appreciate how difficult it is for an outsider. Stalling, you understand. Silly Soul; every other time I've decided on a question and put it to it, it's answered me right away. Maybe not straight and maybe not honest, but there and then. So now that it's rambling and stalling, I know something must be wrong. Different. It doesn't like this question.

Good. Should have done this much sooner.

"Doctor, seriously, this body is looking for where she slept last night and she just let go of her last clue."

"You've passed it, it's the last left back there and then first door on the right. Why are you-" I catch myself there and rephrase. "That's an odd thing for you to be looking for…"

"This body slept alone," it says thoughtfully, pulling this up from somewhere deep. "Thought you two were man-and-wife?"

"Ah-ah-ah, not until you answer me."

"Why am I here? That was what we'd settled on, wasn't it?"

"Indeed."

"And you agree to that?"

"For God's sake yes!"

"Because I was called, Doctor. Shame on you, asking the same question twice."

And on those very words, it closes itself in behind the first door on the right. Because it is walking around in River and I am walking around in a damp dressing gown, it has the sonic, and seals the door behind it. Me, feeling duped and tricked, I do what any sane and sensible person would do and batter the door, shouting things at it about how it cheats questions like a genie and how genies never come off well in the end.

I finish. A few quiet seconds pass.

From within, in a distant, distracted way, "What's your favourite fairytale?"

Sullen and defeated, "The Princess and the Frog."

"Not Rumpelstiltskein then?" This is said as the door opens again, and it slips back out into the hallway. It watches while I struggle to phrase my next sentence without the question mark, then smiles and shakes River's head. "Don't waste a question on what I was doing in there. I have no idea."

"You'll forgive me if that doesn't make sense."

"I told you before, it takes a while to settle into a mind. Doctor Song is still driving."

"It took no time at all with Jessica."

"There's nothing in her little head to fight with. Jessica lives in all these little momentary experiences. Doesn't think about past or future, just does. Whereas this head is very very different to that. It's a big, clever, organized head and everything is relative and it is very much its own woman…"

Which would make sense. I could buy that, put up with that, take that with a pinch of salt as a fact I can live without testing the veracity of. Except that as Soul says that, it pushes past me, and under River's jacket I feel a familiar, hardback shape. That's not alright. Soul can't have that and I can think of a great many reasons why Soul would both want it and lie about it.

So I try to take River's diary back.

Soul fights. The book passes back and forth between us once or twice. Soul is, of course, far more willing to damage me than I am to damage River's body. And yet there is a point at which it has me pinned, and the glance is brief I can't be sure, but I see no shifting dark behind the iris of her eyes. And when I am standing again, when it finally snatches back the diary and holds it, like a child, to River's chest, it stretches the other arm out long and brings the open hand up to slap me.

And Soul, you know, always struck me as a closed hand type of creature. Pardon the pun on 'struck' there, if you will.

There's a flicker across the features, the eyelids rattling like twitched blinds, and the shifting comes back. "Sorry. Told you she was a bit uppity. River says she doesn't want you grabbing for that again."

"You mean to tell me that was her?" I ask it, not believing a word, holding my stinging red cheek.

"She feels very strongly, Doctor, on this particular subject. Jesus, I'd be scared of her too…"

"I am not sc-"

"Not you!" it cries, sweeping in vicious to address me but inches from my face. "Not everything is about you! Jessica! In Jessica's head, earlier on! Rule nine; Owner owes it nothing. If it disobeys Owner will cease to protect it and the Twohearts will come to kill it. And I was thinking to myself, that'll be good for a laugh, later on! Dredge that up, when there aren't any Twohearts left but you and this half-blood! I was waiting 'til I got in here, got a decent voice; I was going to belt out, 'All By Myself' and then ask you if you wanted to kill me yet! But all of that depends on both you and this shell not being very scary at all. I have, however, just decided that Doctor Song here actually does scare me a little bit. Are we all caught up, you arrogant-"

"Language, dear, that's still my wife you're standing in."

It stands there a moment. The rage drains out of it. It gives one sharp burst, a little exhalation, of a snarling laugh. "Mmh, that was rule nine, wasn't it? You know, before I go, sweetie, we should talk about number ten. Ask me about number ten. Don't worry, it's not your last question. Ask me about number ten."

I don't care about number ten. I left Jessica in the console room, holding her head and barely coping with the day's events, but Jessica will tell me in time about number ten. See, I might believe Soul when it tells me this won't be my last question, but I know it well enough now. It's clever and it knows all the tricks, but it isn't smart. It doesn't plan, and at any rate it's been too angry with me since the moment it arrived to think clearly ahead. If it's telling me this isn't my last question, the last one is getting close. There's not a word to waste.

"You've asked me a series of questions since you arrived. The answers clearly have meaning to you. What is that meaning, Soul?"

"Oh, you know, I'm glad I do finally get to sing while I'm in here…"

"A non-musical explanation will suffice, thank you."

"You shouldn't need to ask this, you know. You're thick. From Thickania." There's no way it can know that. I said that once and never said it again because it didn't sound right. Didn't have that catchphrasey ring to it. Also, I'm not generally thick, haven't had much cause to pick it up. Forgot all about it, in fact, until this moment.

Once again, Soul swings away from me, in River's body, holding River's diary to her chest, doing a little cross-step back and forth across the hall, and singing, "Getting to know you, getting to know all about you…"