PROLOGUE

The Doctor, Nita, Carolyn & Michelle had just visited Nita's parents on Earth in January 1992, where the Doctor and Nita had celebrated their first wedding anniversary by going out for dinner at a 19th century pub.

Now on a mapping survey of sector two-two-one-three-nine, the TARDIS team were conveying a delegation of Voords to Kaldra Four. The Voord were capable of telepathically communicating with each other. They were historians conducting research by retrieving long-forgotten memories.

With her face fixed in concentration, Michelle struggled to grab hold of an elusive memory. "It's a chipped cup, off-white… with a crack in it… I can see it… but I can't remember anything else about it."

"When you see it… do you hear any sounds?" The man's voice was gentle, coaxing.

Michelle tried to concentrate. "No… I don't think so… wait, yes…" She tilted her head slightly, as though trying to hear better. "Humming… Someone's humming…"

"A woman."

"Yes… but I don't know who it is…"

Michelle sat at a table opposite a Voord named Tarlak who wore a complete black bodysuit which was similar to a scuba diver's wetsuit and flippers. This suit was effective protection from hostile elements. He was humanoid. The wetsuit had three appendages on his head – a thin stick with a circle at the front and two loop-like horns on the side. It was unclear if these appendages were representative of the anatomy of the Voord or just part of the wetsuit. Using these, the Voord were capable of telepathically communicating with each other. The leader had the higher intelligence and was able to control others with this organ. His eyes were closed as he concentrated on the same images as Michelle. Tarlak's hand touched his head. A white-haired female alien, Brenner, quite a bit older than Tarlak, sat beside him. A third alien, Lemon, Tarlak's attractive son, stood and observed. Also observing was Nita and Carolyn, who were fascinated by this process.

"Try to touch the cup."

Michelle looked at him, unsure of what he meant, then closed her eyes and tentatively reached out her hand. In her mind she saw a child's hand touching the side of the cup, then running a finger along its rim, reaching a sharp-edged chip and abruptly pulling back. Michelle pulled her hand back as well, and opened her eyes. "It has a sharp edge where it's chipped."

"Is there anything inside the cup?"

Michelle concentrated, trying to see the image. "A liquid… dark…"

"Like tea…"

In Michelle's mind, a child's hand quickly dipped two fingers inside the cup. "It's not hot…" Michelle put the same two fingers into her mouth, as if to taste the liquid, then scrunched up her nose. "Bitter…"

"There's something else in the cup…"

"Yes… with a wooden handle…"

"A spoon…"

"No… It's more delicate than that."

"Reach for it."

The child's hand in Michelle's mind reached for the wooden handle, pulling out an ink brush. "It's a brush! An ink brush." One of the child's hands held the brush, the other was touching the bristles. "I hear that humming again."

"Keep listening to it, and hold out the brush. See if someone takes it from you."

Michelle extended her hand, as if it held a brush in it. An old woman's hand reached for the brush, taking it by the handle. "It's my grandmother. She's doing brush writing. I remember it now!"

Tarlak opened his eyes, pleased with himself.

"She used that cup for cleaning the brush, and it was my job to fill it with water and bring it to the table. I'd sit beside her and watch the most beautiful characters come from that brush. And the whole time, she'd be humming to herself." Michelle smiled, amazed. "It's like it was yesterday."

"You remember such vivid details… it's remarkable."

"For years I've seen that old cup in my memory… but I could never recall what it was or why it was important. Thank you."

"You're very welcome, young lady." He looked around at the group. "Perhaps someone else would care to try?"

Brenner and Lemon reacted to this, uncomfortable with Tarlak 'soliciting' the group.

Tarlak fixed his eyes on Carolyn. "You, madam… you're thinking of that first childhood kiss. Wouldn't you like to remember more about it?"

Carolyn is amazed by this, but Lemon remonstrated his father. "Father, you know you're not supposed to probe someone's memories unless they've given you permission."

"You're right… but sometimes with a beautiful woman – I can't help myself."

There was good-natured laughter at this.

"What about you, Nita? Any memories you feel like digging up?"

Nita grinned. "None that I'd want to share with an audience."

Michelle and the others grinned at this; Michelle stood. "I'd better be going… it's getting late."

The group dispersed, Nita and Michelle moving to the exit, the others moving off. Lemon stood alone, an enigmatic look on his face.