The Story So Far Cataclysm Urban Decay So Long Legend Reality Bomb Once Upon A Memory Three Night Engagement '70s Cutaway The Millennium People I The Millennium People II Cutting The Threads The Convocation Nova Mondas Denouement I: Sacrifice Denouement II: Paradox Denouement III: Gift

Denouement I: Sacrifice by Niall Turner ELSEWHERE “Things are changing.” “Things have already changed too much.” The first speaker stood, casting an ungainly shadow on the luminescent wall. “Should this concern us?” “The boy’s power interests me.” “You mean you want it.” A new voice. “Kade, glad you could make it,” said the second speaker. “Martura, Orestes,” acknowledged the newcomer. Dressed in severe black, Kade regarded his associates. “As Orestes says, should this concern us? The attendant risks may be huge.” Martura got to her feet, smooth and precise. The ceaseless motion of the ceiling crystals played strange patterns across her shaved head and ebony skin. “We ain’t playing no stock market, boys.” She grinned, purring the words at them and walked slowly behind Kade. Figure lithe and taut in close fitting leather she played long fingers up and down his arm. Kade looked away disinterestedly. Martura roared laughter. “This isn’t a joke.” Kade’s tone was quiet. “The boy’s power may have grown since Anotyne and Bartholomew encountered them,” added Orestes. “Yes, where are those two idiots?” asked Martura. “Maybe they know when to lie low,” suggested Kade. “Don’t be scared baby,” whispered Martura. Now she spoke with angry emphasis. “This may have started out as a side project. Reality bomb here, contract there, but that fool Time Lord bit off more than he could chew. Tried to change his own time line and turned the damn universe on its head.” She cleared her throat loudly. "Master, indeed!" “Paradigm Shift,” said Kade. “Exactly,” confirmed Martura. “Not good news when you’re the Causality Family Robinson. Time of the month it was not.” “Literally,” said Kade. “So what do we want with the boy?” asked Orestes. Martura turned to face him. “All I want is for him and that other Time Lord,” she spat the name distastefully, “Out of the picture.” She held his gaze. “We don’t want that fool Doctor to try and put things to rights again.” She traced a razor finger down Orestes’ cheek, drawing negative static. “That I really cannot be doing with.” Orestes pulled a face. “Let’s take them then. What’s the plan?” “Way ahead of you baby and no need to worry about Anotyne and Bartholomew. Probably setting up another franchise someplace. Let them. This is what we’re going to do. First thing that fool Time Lord’ll do is try and back track.” Kade smiled a sickly smile. “Paradox Trap?” “Exactly!” Martura grinned with delight. “Any past the brother tries to change is his future! We are so ahead of him!” “Will there be killing?” asked Orestes. Martura’s grin deepened. “Sure honey. And pain and terror and despair before bedtime.” THE VORTEX …eventually the Doctor spoke. “No one else should have to die.” The words sounded hollow. They hung in the air, lifeless and disconnected. The Bloke cleared his throat. “Everything dies…” He felt hot under the Doctor’s sudden, sharp gaze and tried again. “I mean… I don’t know why I care… I do care,” he finished in a puzzled tone. New sensations were stirring within him. “Feelings?” he wondered out loud. “Emotions?! These I can do without!” “That’ll be anger,” observed the Doctor. He sighed and turned to the TARDIS console, flipping switches and examining readouts. “Don’t like it,” continued the Bloke. “Don’t like any of this- ow!” He clutched at his side, healed but still raw. “Seems like I’m stabilising in vulnerable mode.” The Doctor gave him a grim smile. “This is real life.” “You’re telling me.” The Bloke winced. He looked more closely at the Doctor’s operation of the console in an attempt to distract himself. “What are you doing?” The Doctor bit his lip, eyes shrewd and thoughtful. “Backtracking… I think I may have missed something.” The TARDIS console gave a tiny electronic burble. The Doctor grinned, although the Bloke saw no pleasure in the expression. Those eyes of his, they were beyond soulless, they were… The Bloke shivered. He didn’t want to go there. Fear. Nice one. “Alexis Capricornn!” The Doctor snapped his fingers. “We were on Ossobos, it was soon after I’d met Brad…” He tailed off. The Bloke watched his fists clench and unclench. “Ossobos?” he ventured, after the silence threatened to become painful. “Fourth Ossoban Republic, circa two thousand, five hundred and one,” said the Doctor, staring intently at the console. The scanner hummed into life and a small mauve planet appeared on the screen. “One of the last planet’s to join the Federation,” said the Doctor. “Highly advanced, close cultural and genealogical ties with Alpha Centauri.” Abruptly he thumped the console then winced in pain. “I don’t remember! I don’t remember what happened!” “But you think we should go there?” ventured the Bloke. “Find this Alexis Capricornn?” There was another pause. The Bloke frowned. Was he doing something wrong? This conversation thing was a real effort, all these meaningful silences. Eventually the Doctor nodded. He flipped further switches and pulled a lever. “If I can just back track by a few days.” He studied the readouts intently. “Yes, yes, thank you old girl!” He patted the console in gentle delight. The Bloke found himself smiling without knowing why. He much preferred this childish, wonderstruck Doctor. “We were there in the forty first segment of the second season,” continued the Doctor. “She was on a holotour, so…” He nodded in satisfaction. “That should give us a few days grace.” The sound of materialisation filled the console room. The Doctor gazed at the ceiling. “Capital, absolutely capital!” he boomed, as though addressing a packed auditorium. The Bloke decided to chance his arm. There was stuff he needed to know if he was going to be of any real help. “Can you backtrack a bit for me Doctor, if I’m going to help-” Before the Doctor could reply, a deep, sonorous tone began to echo through the TARDIS, coinciding with the gentle thud of full materialisation. “What?” wondered the Bloke. “Cloister Bell,” said the Doctor. “Not good?” The Doctor held his gaze. “Only happens in the gravest emergencies.” He turned to the inner door. “Stay here, I need to talk with her.” With that he was gone. The Bloke swallowed. This fear thing was no fun at all. OSSOBOS, 2501, SOUTHERN ZONE COLONY BLOCK 241 Rahlena Sagathnai looked round the apartment for the final time. Falex stirred sleepily in her arms. She gently stroked his head, whispering reassurance. The door to the bedroom was open and she could clearly see Garrick, comatose and snoring loudly as she crept past. He moved suddenly, turning on his side. Rahlena froze, her backpack and Falex a combined deadweight. The snoring resumed. With a last, sad glance back Rahlena pressed the main door exit panel and left the apartment they had shared for the last five years. Enough was finally, really enough. She’d had enough of Garrick’s excuses to last a lifetime. Goddess knew she’d tried to make it work but when he’d blown that last contract, the credits gone on drugs and the attendant med tech fees… …Rahlena came to her senses with a start. She’d got no further than the landing, lost in thought. Garrick could have appeared at any time. Did she really want to do this? Yes. There was Falex to think of too, now. He deserved a future. No self obsessed idiot of a husband was going to screw that up. Except the voice inside, the voice she’d had since childhood… It kept telling her this was wrong in some way. Not wrong to do it but each action brought its attendant consequences. She looked at Falex, still asleep and realised she was crying. She would never do anything to hurt him. Even unintentionally and she’d never forgive herself. Rahlena shook her head. Time was passing and time was precious. The Grav-tube was out of service as usual, the Ossoban’s paid scant attention to the problems of their colony blocks. Tiredly, Rahlena Sagathnai began to make her way down the first of many stairs. In the hov-cab she stared blankly at her features in the mirrored panel above the comp pilot, whirring and humming quietly to itself. The city flashed by outside. She ignored it, lost within her own world. Something bad was coming, she knew it. It was the same feeling she’d had on the landing. She’d been gifted with the sight since childhood. She could never see clearly, she just got feelings, instincts about people or places. Strong feelings. She hadn’t needed the sight to know she had to make the break from Garrick but this new fear she was feeling daily… She couldn’t explain it. Something bad. Coming soon and coming fast. The hov-cab touched down gently at the Sky Rail station, her comp-chip card clicking to ‘Account Negative’. Rahlena shrugged, struggling out of the cab with Falex then reaching back for her pack. She had all they’d need for now, account be damned. She’d let it stay negative, find new work and a new account in one of the Great West settlement zones. No way for Garrick to trace her then. The great entrance plaza of the Sky Rail loomed before her, vaulted columns of patterned marble and white metal. Embarkation chip in hand, Rahlena and Falex made their way to the departures platform THE SKY RAIL The TARDIS scanner showed a blank metal wall with a blank metal door. “Oh look, metal!” grinned the Doctor. The Bloke jumped, not realising he had come back. The Cloister Bell had been silent for some time. “Yeah, right. What did the TARDIS have to say?” “Oh, nothing to worry about.” The Doctor waved away the question. The Bloke frowned. This wasn’t like the Doctor, in as much as he could tell it wasn’t like the Doctor. He noticed the Doctor was now dressed in pale khaki shorts and jacket, the ensemble completed by a pith helmet and sturdy walking boots. He was carrying a similar pile of clothing which he now proffered to the Bloke. “You have got to be joking,” said the Bloke. “It’s going to be hot,” warned the Doctor. “Right.” The Bloke took the gear and headed for the inner door to change. “Fashion victims of the cosmos unite!” “Yes, yes, exactly right I’m sure,” said the Doctor, not hearing a word. They emerged into some sort of luggage van or baggage car, guestimated the Bloke. Packing crates of various shapes and sizes were stacked side to side, sealed with high tech security devices. Speaking of which, a wall panel began to bleep in alarm. The Doctor reached out and casually input random data to the comp-chip. The panel blipped in futile objection and fell silent. “Good, good,” ruminated the Doctor. He gestured for the Bloke to follow him, examining the tracking device. “Just check we’ve made the right connection.” The Doctor opened another metal door at the far end of the carriage and the Bloke saw they were in a stretch of connecting corridor. A smoked glass door dead ahead led into some sort of passenger carriage. There was a great deal of activity from within. Between the passenger carriage and an outer door they now stood beside was a walled off section of carriage with a door outlined in neon red. “What’s that?” asked the Bloke. The Doctor looked. “Escape carriage. Standard Ossoban design.” “Wow, space train life boat,” said the Bloke then winced at the analogy. “Nifty.” “Yes, yes, you’re very probably right,” said the Doctor, clearly not listening again. He abruptly punched a button and the outer door slid open with a pneumatic hiss. “Strewth!” The Bloke put a hand over his eyes. “Need to find myself some shades!” They stepped down on to an immense platform. “Double strewth with knobs on.” The Bloke stared. This was indeed a big one. The most immense, bullet nosed, sleekly futuristic train he had ever seen sat humming idly in an equally immense alien station of white stone and metal. Familiar and unfamiliar shapes moved all about him. A party of noblemen from Draconia here, Alpha Centaurian tourists and Ossoban officials there. Even a few human looking colonists, laden with baggage and children, looking lost amid the heat haze. The Bloke knew the feeling. “Thomas the Tank Engine it ain’t,” he said softly. Damn, was this humanisation process cross referencing some obscure rubbish? “Ossoban Mono-Cruiser, Sky Rail Class Five,” said the Doctor. He pointed to the far end of the platform where the sleek line of the monorail disappeared into mountainous distance against a hazy purple sky. “It’s a big one,” said the Bloke. “Yes, it is rather enormous if I do say so myself,” agreed the Doctor. They exchanged a look. The Doctor harrumphed. The Bloke looked at his feet, fanning himself with his pith helmet. He knew one or both of them had just said something embarrassing but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Wait a minute… This was innuendo! Sorted! Or maybe not. “Yes, well,” the Doctor was pointing to the last carriage, gleaming in the alien sunlight. “The TARDIS has done a really excellent job this time, if I do say so myself.” The Bloke looked. If you really tried you could see the last carriage was a darker shade of tungsten blue to the other carriages but it barely noticed. He fanned himself again with the pith helmet. “So what’s the plan?” The Doctor was off, striding towards the huge, marbled sweep of the ticket hall. “Sunglasses you say?” he called back. “Oh yeah, right.” The Bloke hurried after him. This was… The words came to him unbidden. Being a tourist, that was it. That explained his sense of anticipation. Perhaps he could find a travel guide, or a little straw squid head. As usual the standard carriages were the last to be opened for embarkation. Rahlena had kept back to the shade, away from the imposing bulk of the Mono-Cruiser. Alien dignitaries and officials of differing Ossoban castes made their way on board the Premier and Luxury carriages. One group in particular caught Rahlena’s eye. They were clearly off worlders but it was more than that, they were different somehow. Rahlena stared and held Falex closer to her as they swept passed a black woman and two men. One of the men was clad in black leather and cloak, seemingly oblivious to the heat. The other was more powerfully built, clad in some sort of light weight metallic body armour, face hard and uncompromising. The woman dwarfed them both in terms of stature, easily over six foot and moving with feline grace. As one they stopped then turned to face Rahlena. She felt Falex’s fear, mirroring her own. “A child,” said the man in black, his voice oddly echoed. His eyes were mournful, raven black. “You must be very proud,” grinned the woman. Her eyes were liquid silver. “Martura, Kade, we don’t have time for this,” interjected the second man. The woman’s eyes seemed to flash with a brighter intensity but she turned and made her way towards the Luxury carriages. “Catch you later!” she called back shouting harsh laughter. The man in black remained for a minute, staring fixatedly at Falex, then he too was gone. Rahlena drew breath. What had just happened? Falex stared after the group, hypnotised. The Bloke was reading his travel guide. It was a good guide, with appendices and footnotes and everything. The whole caboodle, the real deal. It was the Backpacker’s Guide to Ossobos and he’d been through it more times than he cared to remember. Good of the Doctor to book them on a week’s length Standard Class Mono Cruise. And things weren’t going too well. The Doctor’s attempts to get into the Luxury section of the cruiser, or more particularly, Professor Alexis Capricornn’s compartments had so far met with no success. Zilch. The last time he had seen the Doctor he had seemed quite concerned, muttering about outside technology barring the way. The Bloke shifted position, trying to turn in time with the movement of the Mono-Cruiser and only succeeded in twisting his neck. Again. "Life's a bitch huh?" said a voice from his elbow. The Bloke paused before turning. Didn't want to put his neck out anymore. The Unkolboogan Mountains were just coming into view. Someone elbowed him in the ribs. The Bloke looked. It was a dark skinned kid with big, seriously big, hair. "You listening to me?" enquired the kid. You could have called him cherubic but the eyes told a different story. Seeing the Bloke stare the kid donned a ridiculously oversize pair of sun goggles. He offered the Bloke a hand. "I'm Anotyne. Pleased to meet ya!" "Right." The Bloke shook uncertainly. Where the hell was the Doctor? He seemed to have got permanently delayed in the buffet car. There was an alarmingly loud crackling from right next to his ear. Twisting abruptly he saw the kid, Anotyne, was now kneeling on the adjacent seat with his tongue poked out. A lurid red crystal deposit was crackling and bouncing on said tongue. Thankfully it was retracted. The Bloke blinked. "Spacedust!" Anotyne gave a brilliant, raspberry white grin. He proffered a packet. "Wanna try? It's totally 70s man!" "Think I'll pass on that" said the Bloke, wondering where this was going while at the same instant realising who Anotyne was. His heart raced and he found himself grinning inanely. "Oh you should try it!" Anotyne raised a hand for a high five and without knowing why the Bloke responded. "Yeah," continued Anotyne, "Me and Bartholomew had a newsagent. Great days." "Mmm, right." The Bloke tried to look interested while wondering about the semiotic thickness of his travel guide in relation to unexpected connection with Anotyne's skull. Nah, as attack plans went it wasn't up to much. All that big hair would get in the way for a start. He realised the kid was looking at him in expectation. "You gonna do it then?" "Going to do what?" asked the Bloke. "Y'know, jump me. Make your move." Anotyne grinned even wider, shadow boxing inanely. "Thought never crossed my mind," said the Bloke, rolling his eyes. A shadow fell across their table and he looked up with palpable relief. It wasn't the Doctor. Bartholomew looked down at him with eyes that shifted from turquoise to slate blue and back again. "We have to go." The Bloke smiled. "I'm not going anywhere with you two psychos." Bartholomew sighed tiredly. "Au contraire." "That's a really big gun," said the Bloke. Everyone else in the carriage seemed to be discretely not paying attention. "Great," he struggled to his feet as Anotyne made way for him. "I've always said abduction and violence broaden the mind." "...and grilled air squid with salt crab dressing for -" The Doctor stared at the empty seats and the Bloke's backpack, sitting forlornly alone. "Oh, you're not here." He frowned to himself and turned an awkward circle in the cramped aisle of the carriage. "I wasn't that long, surely?" "They took him away." "I'm sorry?" The Doctor turned and saw a Taurean woman in the adjacent seats, young child clinging to her shoulder. She gently stroked the boy's hair as she looked at him. "Who took him away?" prompted the Doctor. She shook her head. "Didn't want to ask too many questions from the look of their weaponry. Goddess knows how they got that on board." "Please, this is important." The Doctor knelt between the tables, looking at her seriously. She regarded him for a moment. The Doctor realised she was eyeing the sandwiches. He proffered them. She didn't have a problem accepting them and spoke quickly as she unwrapped the food. "Old man and a boy, they took him towards the back." "An old man and a boy..." The Doctor got to his feet, watching as she stuffed the food hungrily into her mouth, breaking off pieces for the child. The Doctor snapped his fingers. "Anotyne and Bartholomew!" His gaze darkened. "They'd have been well advised to leave us alone." He saw the child was looking at him a little fearfully and tried to grin a reassuring grin. "I'm sorry. Thank you for your help.. ?" He looked at the woman in expectation. She swallowed and gave a brief, tired smile. "Don't mention it. I'm Rahlena, this is Falex." She hugged the child proudly. "Thank you, thank you both." The Doctor leant to pick up the Bloke's back pack and headed for the rear of the train. "Don't mention it," repeated Rahlena, wiping a crumb from her lip. Falex looked at her wide eyed. She turned and stared after the Doctor's departing figure. Why did she have such a bad feeling in her guts? There was a familiar pounding at her temples and Falex gripped her arm tighter as he always did when she was seeing. Rahlena gasped, struggling to hold the boy safely. She fell back against the cushioned head rest. They were going to die! She looked wildly about the carriage as the train dipped and turned into the Unkolboogan Valley. Everyone on board was going to die. Except... Her thoughts turned to the strangers, their faces rising unbidden in her mind. "Now this," said Anotyne, with little irony, "Should be the last carriage." He paused and gave that familiar annoying grin. "But... oh look." Weaving between packing crates he turned and presented another, metallic blue door at the back of the carriage. "Looks like we've got ourselves an extra carriage." The Bloke sighed. "Yes, it's the TARDIS, and yes I can get you in there if you want." He fingered his TARDIS key gingerly, wondering whether to make a break for it. Thing was, he really didn't want to exit the picture heroically shouting a warning while the Doctor picked up the main thread. Bartholomew prodded him in the back with the gun. "We're all on the same side you know." "Yeah, right. You've totally convinced me," said the Bloke. "We need to convince you, man," said Anotyne, pointing a serious, if diminutive finger. "Game plan's changed. Big changes." "But if we can convince you," said Bartholomew. "And you can convince the Doctor," added Anotyne. "You might have a cellophane duck's chance in hell of getting out of this!" they finished in unison, grinning lunatically at each other. "What drugs are you on?" asked the Bloke. "'Cos I could really do with some of them." "Hey, man, be cool." Anotyne moved to one of the packing crates and flipped the lid open. Titanium screws and joints sprung and bounced across the carriage floor. "Know what this is?" asked Anotyne, beckoning to the Bloke. The Bloke looked and nodded in resignation. "It's a bomb." He paused. "Correction. It's a bloody big bomb." "Too right my friend." Anotyne had an almost admiring look on his face. "You just gotta dig the technology." "Whose technology?" wondered the Bloke. "That, my friend," said Bartholomew from behind him, "Is a Construct Existential Incendiary Device. With Reality Fuse and coded time flip switches." "State of the art," said Anotyne. "Right," said the Bloke who was suddenly feeling incredibly pissed off. Plus scared witless. "You'll have to bring me up to speed on the art of mass murder and destruction." "Hey," said Anotyne seriously, "Remember what you were saying about abduction and violence?" "Just give me the damn drugs," said the Bloke. "There won't be any need for that," said a familiar voice. They turned as one to see the Doctor in the doorway to the carriage, face like thunder. "Doctor!" The Bloke stepped forward and felt Bartholomew's restraining hand on his shoulder. "We need to talk," said Bartholomew. "What is this, BobbloodyHoskins?" wondered the Bloke out loud. Bartholomew's grip tightened and he winced in pain. "What's to talk about?" The Doctor stepped into the carriage. "That for a start," Bartholomew released the Bloke and indicated the Reality Bomb, humming quietly to itself in the packing crate. The Doctor stared in horror. "What in Rassilon's name have you done?" He frowned. "Who did I say?" "Ow!" The Bloke clutched at his head. That... What had the Doctor said? Felt like someone had just stuck a fair few volts through his head. Reality seemed to blur momentarily then refocused. Anotyne and Bartholomew exchanged a sly grin. "Seems like your future's catching up with you," said Anotyne, redirecting everyone's attention to the bomb. "You're saying this isn't your work?" asked the Doctor. Anotyne pulled a face. "Don't insult us man. This is heavy handed. We practically wrote the rulebook for the Armageddon Conven - ow!" He looked resentfully at Bartholomew who was standing on his foot. Both the Doctor and the Bloke were clutching at their heads again. "Guess I must have taken something after all," muttered the Bloke. "Great trip it's turning out to be too." "We don't have time for this," said Bartholomew abruptly. "As my associate said, your future's catching up with you Doctor." He indicated the bomb. "The only way you can defuse this is with your TARDIS." The Doctor stared. "Link it with the time vector coordinates and generate a triple alpha wave buffer zone?" "That'll do," said Bartholomew. "Why's the train stopping?" wondered the Bloke. Nobody appeared to notice or answer so he walked back towards the last passenger carriage for a look outside. The Doctor was still locked in his staring match with Bartholomew. "Why would you help me?" "Let's just say we like to hedge our bets," said Bartholomew with an uncompromising smile. Liquid shapes floated in the old mans preternaturally bright eyes. Anotyne snorted. "Man you are so down with the mercenary thing!" Bartholomew ignored him and indicated the door to the TARDIS, flipping the switch on his hand gun. "Shall we?" The Doctor gave a short sigh. "Very well." Martura sat up abruptly in the soft illumination of a Luxury Compartment. Professor Alexis Capricornn’s Luxury Compartment if truth be told. Except the professor had once again ceased to exist. Scant days before a Construct Reality bomb would have ensured she ceased to exist in any case. Martura grinned her killer cat grin. “Tying up loose ends, don’t you just love it?” She frowned and her eyes glowed fiercely. Orestes and Kade looked to her expectantly. “Damn you!” Martura had a surprised look on her face. “It’s Anotyne and Bartholomew! How come the homeboys have gone and got themselves a conscience?” “That’s nice for them,” said Kade in a detached tone. “Never mind that!” hissed Martura. “We are taking Michael Jackson and his funky uncle out of the picture now!” She looked at them both. “Well what are you waiting for?! Make like an unstoppable killing machine!” The Bloke was staring out of the passenger carriage windows. The smoked glass still afforded a good view of the broad sweep of the Unkolboogan Mountains and the ragged trough of the valley which the monorail was poised to descend into. Except it wasn't descending. Wasn't going anywhere at all at present. Other passenger's had noticed and a low murmur of curious conversation had broken out. The Bloke leant closer to the glass partition, wishing the drop below them wasn't quite so sheer. He squinted. The track appeared to divide here, continuing down into the valley and the first of the Great West settlements by the shores of Lake Ulchooba or splitting off to the west where it ran onto some kind of viaduct. Pretty immense viaduct too, damn thing must have been at least a thousand feet high and- The Bloke blinked. "They never finished it," said an elderly voice from his elbow. Looking, he saw a Draconian nobleman, who flashed a sharks tooth smile. The Bloke nodded. "I guess they didn't." "No, the damn fools ran out of money. Could have told them that before they started. The Sky Rail, that's what they were going to call it." The nobleman chuckled throatily to himself. "Right," said the Bloke. "Is it normal to stop right at the junction with a discontinued line?" The Draconian grinned his unreassuring grin. "Line's still perfectly serviceable. I heard they ran a freighter on to it at seven thousand over maximum as an impact test." "They what?!" The Bloke clutched at a nearby seat head as the monorail seemed to lurch unnervingly. As though the bloody points had changed, thought the Bloke. "No cause to panic my friend," hissed the Draconian. "There's an energy barrier so strong at the end of that line you'd need an anti-matter mine to even crack it. The freighter never even touched it." "An anti-matter mine, or maybe a Construct Reality Bomb?" ventured the Bloke. The Draconian shrugged, seeming to tire of the subject, "Well, if you wanted to take half of Ossobos with you as well." "Shite," said the Bloke. "In fact, double shite with shite on top." He stared out of the window towards the distant viaduct. With perfect timing, a new voice at his shoulder said, "We're all going to die." The Bloke physically jumped. It was a Taurean woman, thin faced and tired, her tattoos glowing livid scarlet against her pale amber skin. She was holding a child at her breast. The child looked as wide eyed and frightened as the Bloke was now feeling. He shook his head, took a step back. Did he know these two? No but... They'd been sitting opposite him, that was it. "What do you mean?" he managed eventually. "We don't have time for this," the woman brushed past him. "I don't know who you people are or what your problem is," and here she looked back at him fiercely, "But nobody is hurting my boy. Now take me to your friends." Thick coils of industrial strength cable ran from the now open door of the TARDIS to the bomb, a low hum of power channelled between them. Anotyne was sat on a packing crate watching the Doctor whose face was lost in shadow, studying the illuminated display panel on the bomb. "Just under twenty minutes," said the Doctor quietly. He looked fiercely at Anotyne. "It may not be enough." "Sure it will be!" Anotyne seemed blithely confident. "I imagine it makes very little difference to you either way," said the Doctor. "Then why are we here in the first place?" challenged Anotyne. "As your friend said, hedging your bets," scowled the Doctor. He rose to his feet. "Where is he by the way?" "Here." Bartholomew stepped from the door of the TARDIS. "It'll put her central systems under a lot of stress but I think she'll take it." "I hope so," said the Doctor. "Nobody else should have to die." There was a brief silence. Anotyne broke it. "Man but if that ain't emotional!" He sighed a contented sigh. "To think I have been by the good Doctor's side as he has fought the good fight." "Anotyne," said Bartholomew reasonably, "Shut up." "Damn no man." Anotyne closed his eyes and scrunched up his face. "You just got to go with it." He looked seriously at the Doctor. "Do it again man. Rhapsodise some goodness for me!" The Doctor just stared. "Whoops," said Anotyne. "Guess I over stepped some good guy boundary there." "Doctor!" It was the Bloke. "Our problems just got worse." "What's happened? Rahlena?" Rahlena stepped tiredly into the carriage. Placing Falex into the surprised arms of the Bloke she looked from face to face. And settled on Anotyne and Bartholomew. "It's you," she said simply. "Come again sister?" prompted Anotyne. He tossed the Bloke a packet of Spacedust, who just managed to catch it one handed. "Orange, can't stand the stuff." "Cheers mate," said the Bloke, "That's a big help." "It's you but not you," continued the woman. "The woman with silver eyes, she is here. She'll kill us all." Anotyne looked at Bartholomew. "Cat with silver eyes. Sounds like Martura." Bartholomew nodded. "Must have rumbled us." "Bad break," said Anotyne. “Looks like we’ve taken this altruism gig as far as we can take it.” Bartholomew appeared to be adjusting a dial on the side of his gun. "I'm sorry, Doctor, but we've done as much as we can." He disappeared. The Doctor's eyes bulged. "You're abandoning these people?!" He realised he was addressing empty space and turned his gaze to Anotyne. Anotyne shrugged. "Must have triggered an alarm opening the crate. Typical Martura tactic. She'll be on board some place." He flashed a grin. "Look out for Orestes and Kade. They'll have your sorry asses!" He disappeared. Falex began to cry. Anotyne abruptly reappeared. He was holding one of the lethal looking hand guns which he handed to the Bloke, who struggled to hold it along with Falex and the Spacedust. Anotyne indicated the dial on the side. "Disruptor Gun, it's got three settings. Time, Gravity and Cellular." He grinned again. "Basic model but it might do you for some action. Throw some macho shapes for me." He was gone again. "Great," said the Bloke after the ensuing silence had become almost unbearable. He passed the crying Falex back to Rahlena who attempted to soothe him. "So now we're caught between a big explosion, a big drop or hey, even better, both!" He stepped angrily up to the Doctor. "Aren't we?! Plus we've got further unkillable psycho nut jobs on board!" The Doctor sighed. Rahlena stared at him strangely. "You are old," she said, "Older than you look or should be. I cannot see your future." The Bloke bit his lip, regretting his outburst. "Look, all I'm saying is-" "That thing will kill them," said the Doctor quietly. He took the Disruptor Gun from the Bloke and examined it briefly. "Much more than just hedging their bets I'd say. Twenty charges." He handed it back. The Bloke continued to examine the gun uncertainly. "It's one of the most powerful weapons in existence," continued the Doctor. "It will kill them," he repeated. "Is that all it comes down to at the end of the day?" said the Bloke. "Kill or be killed, survival of the fittest?" "Perhaps," said the Doctor although he sounded far from convinced. "If they want my death they can have it. But nobody else dies!" As if on cue, the illuminated communication screen above the carriage entrance blurted into life. An all too clear image appeared on the screen, a shaven headed black woman with silver eyes and teeth that were laughing tablets of perfect ivory. "Calling all anomalies!" She paused, waiting until she was sure she had their attention. "Hi, how are y'all?" She giggled like a mischievous child. "Just to let you know that the crew have been brutally murdered and we will shortly be setting off again." She paused. There was the sound of confused cries and questions from the other carriages. "Alright then," continued the woman, Martura, assumed the Bloke. "Buffet service and random acts of senseless violence will be along shortly. Be sure to have your tickets ready for inspection." She paused again, smirking. “And, Doctor, you have been a naughty boy. Doing our dirty work for us and letting young Bradley die like that.” At this point she completely lost it and began to laugh uncontrollably. “Have a nice day!” The screen went blank. "What the hell?" The Bloke turned to the Doctor. In the distance there was the sound of high tech weaponry being discharged, followed by screams. Abruptly the monorail jerked into life and began to move again. The Bloke turned to the Doctor. "We can get them out of here! Take them in the TARDIS!" "I can't!" The Doctor shook his head. He pointed to the still open TARDIS door. "I could never make the disconnections in time, besides which I'll most likely blow us all to perdition!" "Well we've got less than fifteen bloody minutes anyway!" shouted the Bloke with a look at the bomb's display panel. The gunfire and screaming were coming closer. At the same time the motion of the monorail was becoming rocky and unsteady. "Please," Rahlena stepped towards them, "Help us!" She looked imploringly at them. "He hasn't done anything." They all stared at Falex who stared back, wide eyed. The monorail tilted alarmingly, picking up speed as it turned in to the bend towards the uncompleted viaduct. "Please," repeated Rahlena. The Doctor appeared to come to a decision. "We'll save him." He looked at the Bloke. "It's got to be you." "What do you mean?" "You've got to hold them off while I defuse this obscenity!" He glared at the bomb. “Get them to use the escape carriage!” The Bloke drew a deep breath. He felt like he was dreaming and almost in slow motion heard himself say, "I'll hold them off." Even more incredibly he found himself walking towards the next carriage. The gunfire was very close now. The elderly Draconian looked up from where he was crouched behind his seat in the cramped baggage space. "Please, what is happening? That announcement-" "Bad joke," said the Bloke. "Really, really bad joke. You have got to listen to me, mate. I mean really listen." He looked about the carriage and raised his voice. “You’ve got to take the escape carriage, it’s your only chance!” There were cries of disbelief and objection. From the sound of it, the other members of the Construct were now in the next carriage but one at most. “Just listen!” shouted the Bloke. “These people are not going to be stopped and they will kill you. Plus LakebloodyUlchooba, that settlement down there and probably this half of Ossobos!” “What do you mean, human?” The Draconian had struggled to his feet, a look of uncomprehending shock on his face. “I wasn’t joking about the Reality Bomb,” said the Bloke, loud enough for everyone to hear. "And I am not human. Just mortal," he added to himself. Most of the occupants of this carriage, natives and offworlders alike seemed to have got the message. There was a general rush towards the escape carriage. The Bloke tried to steady himself against the increasing momentum of the Mono-Cruiser. He realised the Draconian was still with him. “What is it?” The Draconian was wielding a lethal looking ceremonial blade. “If we are to die I shall be honoured to die by your side.” The Bloke stared. “Look, no one else is going to die-“ Too late. "Hello," said a voice from behind them. “Damn,” said the Bloke. Rahlena watched the Doctor work. Unfamiliar symbols were playing over the display panel of the bomb, ever faster. The Doctor seemed to slump, holding his head in hands. “I can’t do it. I can’t do it.” Rahlena leant towards him, placed a hand on his shoulder. “You can do it. You are a good man.” “Am I?” The Doctor stared at, through and beyond her. “Am I a good man?” He shook his head despairingly. “People have died here today. All because of my stupidity… I tried to fight back, to find a way back… Walked straight into their trap. There is no way back.” He sighed heavily. “I don’t know if there’s a place for me in this universe!” Rahlena slapped him. “Men!” The Doctor seemed momentarily stung then galvanised into action. He headed for the TARDIS door. “There might be a way, I don’t know, I just need to check the fluid links, reroute the mercury…” “You do that,” called Rahlena. “But if Falex dies, I’ll kill you myself.” The Doctor stared. “I believe you.” Then he was gone. Rahlena hugged Falex closer to him. She needed the Doctor to believe her but that last bit had been a lie. It was very close now. She was scared but not for herself. The voices had told her. The only people who could save her son were the Doctor and his friend. The Bloke looked up. The black woman, Martura, was standing at the far end of the carriage. Framed in the entrance behind her were a brutal looking white guy with similar shaven hairstyle and a guy with a bowl haircut who looked like he was auditioning for some sort of futuristic anti pope. They all held similar guns to his own. Martura grinned, indicating first crew cut, then bowl head. "My good friends Orestes and Kade." "Nice gear," said the Bloke. "Where do you shop? World of Leather?" "Shut up insect!" Martura's eyes narrowed to slits of hate filled mercury. "Where did you get that?" "What this?" The Bloke raised the Disruptor Gun casually upwards and without consciously thinking what he was doing, pulled the trigger. There was a tremendous explosion and sudden, jarring pain as the Bloke was thrown backwards by the force of the discharge. Air rushed inwards from the symmetrical hole he had blown in the carriage roof. "Cellular!" shrieked Martura. Similar holes were punched in the wall behind the Bloke. He struggled to a kneeling position, the monorail moving at terrifying speed now, the abrupt depressurisation not helping at all. He was pleased to see the Construct were having similar problems at the far end of the carriage. Desperately he turned the dial on the gun. "Drop it or we kill him!" Martura was screaming to be heard above the wind. Orestes had the Draconian in a neck lock and was holding a gun to his head, stone faced. Kade looked on, grinning a sickening grin. The monorail tilted abruptly as the escape carriage ejected. The Bloke took his chance. It was a good call. Orestes lost his balance and the Bloke loosed off two shots on the 'Time' setting. At first, nothing appeared to happen. Then the air seemed to shimmer and ripple, transparent treacle in front of the Construct. The escape carriage sailed past in slow motion outside, retro jets cutting in as it dipped towards Lake Ulchooba. The Bloke drew a painful breath and got to his feet. They were still there, Martura screaming abuse but soundlessly, cut off. The monorail continued its suicidal downhill journey. "Please!" He turned. It was Rahlena, in the doorway to the last carriage, carrying a terrified Falex. "Why the hell weren’t you on the escape carriage?!" screamed the Bloke. Come to think of it, why wasn’t he? She wasn’t listening. "Something's gone wrong, I don't understand, please you must come now!" The Bloke's heart pounded. He was ragged and dog tired. This really was the limit. He stared. The Doctor was just visible, lost in a haze of strange static as he knelt over the bomb. The doorway to the TARDIS seemed to have completely disappeared. "I can't contain it!" The Doctor's voice was very faint, as though coming through a poorly tuned radio. "Use the gun! Use the gun!" He flared briefly then was lost in the encroaching static. An ear splitting shriek began to pierce the other sounds of chaos and confusion. The Bloke turned desperately to Rahlena. What had the Doctor meant? He flipped the setting back to 'Cellular'. Was there really no way out? Surely the Doctor didn't mean... He flipped the setting again. "Do something!" Rahlena was openly crying now. She stared at him, red faced. "I promised him! I promised!" Abruptly, she folded and dropped, an astonished look on her face. The Bloke held her gaze all the way to the floor. Orestes stepped forward from the next carriage. "Oh, for shame." He stared curiously as the diminutive Falex attempted to detach himself from his unmoving mother. "Life, death," he smiled at the Bloke while picking up the wailing Falex in one hand. "What does it all mean?" He gave a sudden school girl giggle. This turned to a shriek of outraged agony as the Draconian nobleman’s sword split him straight down the middle. A look of astonishment fell in diametrically opposite directions then burst and faded in negative static. Falex fell with a wail. “Dishonourable scum,” spat the Draconian then fell in turn. Martura and Kade were right there. The high pitched screeching was getting ever louder. The Bloke fired, grabbing for Falex with all his remaining strength in the same instant. Martura and Kade disappeared towards the hole in the roof with a collective cry of outrage. Kade was lost from view outside. Martura remained, spread eagled against the hole like a malignant spider. Falex was a dead weight in his hand but the Bloke barely noticed. "Gravity weapon?" Martura spat down at him. "Who's given you the keys to the toy box?!" "Tell you what," shouted the Bloke, changing the setting again, "Just for you I'll do this the old fashioned way." "No!" Martura struggled to free herself against the pressure. The Bloke fired. Pieces of Martura fell in separate directions. "I could've told you," said the Bloke. "Guns suck." And, he thought to himself, I am not an insect. I am one of the Millennium People. "A god," he mumbled to himself, "one day, hopefully." Pulling Falex close to him he turned back to the carriage. No one else was left alive. They'd killed everyone in the forward carriages, the senseless bastards. The Doctor was gone too. There was no way through to the final carriage. There were only the external doors in the connecting corridor. He almost lost his footing as the monorail entered its final descent. Use the gun, the Doctor had said. Use the gun... The external doors would never just open, he'd need one shot for that and then... the Goddess only knew. An image of Rahlena rose unbidden in his mind. He looked down at her unmoving body, Falex following his gaze, silent and solemn. "I'll save him," he said quietly, "I'll save him." Holding Falex as close as he dared without hurting him he turned to the external doors and fired. The hand of an invisible giant plucked him and the boy outside. The Doctor was moving through static. His back hurt and his lungs were aching, hearts pumping to maximum capacity. This was direct time seepage, straight from the vortex. He was impervious to the motion of the cruiser, reality was falling away all around him as the last seconds ticked away to detonation. There was only one way out and he knew it. Let the TARDIS systems take the blast. Reality Ram. He stumbled and fell to his knees, fingers searching for controls that no longer existed, arms sinking into a sludge of hungry static. Desperately he focused, going through the motions anyway. No one else should have to die. What was he saying? Did he really believe that? Was he insane? The Doctor felt himself twist and fall. Then nothing. Nothing at all. Falling and tumbling against the slipstream the Bloke fumbled with the gun. Somehow he managed to change the setting and not lose hold of Falex. Where to aim? Cart wheeling crazily he decided it didn't matter and aimed for a foot. Waves of thudding pain shot up his legs and torso, an anvil hammering in his chest. Goddess knew what it was doing to the boy... But they weren't in freefall anymore. Gritting his teeth the Bloke kept the trigger depressed. The ground was still a long way off. Above and away to the west there was a searing flash of indigo light and a strangulated, resounding echo, like some huge dubbed orchestral take on the TARDIS' materialisation. The Bloke blinked as he and Falex careened slowly towards the ground. The viaduct was gone, monorail too. Doctor as well, he guessed. They were headed for the shores of Lake Ulchooba if he remembered his travel guide correctly. The ground came closer still and he realised with a start that the gun's power pack was running low. Although it wasn't really his style, the Bloke closed his eyes and made a wish. The power pack ran out four Ossoban feet above the ground and a good twenty from Lake Ulchooba. Falex landed with a surprised cry. The Bloke succeeded in spraining his ankle after nearly a thousand foot free fall. Which wasn't bad, all things considered, he thought. He stared. Away to the right was his back pack. A little further was a familiar, if unconscious figure. In the distance beyond it was the still smoking shape of the escape carriage, survivors wandering in confused groups by the shore of the lake. "Doctor?" The Bloke moved cautiously closer to the still figure. The Doctor sat up abruptly and grinned a delighted grin. "Very excellent to see you too." "Granted," said the Bloke. "What did you do?" "I contained the explosion," said the Doctor, watching Falex walk unsteadily towards the lake shore. He ran to lift the child who giggled in delight. "At the expense of the TARDIS," finished the Doctor. "What?!" said the Bloke, rubbing his ankle dejectedly. "It was that or lose half the planet," said the Doctor simply. The Bloke sighed. "So gone means gone." "Gone means gone," repeated the Doctor, hefting Falex skywards. "But there are future's to be made. We need to get this young fellow some medical attention." Falex burbled delightedly and slapped ineffectually at the Doctor's face. "This is good," said the Bloke. "But how the hell did you survive?" A confused look crossed the Doctor's face. "The TARDIS… she saved me. Extrapolated the Extreme Emergency option one final time. Catapulted me out of harm’s way as it were." Feeling in his pocket he withdrew the tracker and stared at it distractedly. “Oh that’s interesting. Yes indeed, we need to follow these coordinates. Alpha Centauri, eh?” He handed Falex to the Bloke. “Knew there would be one more paradox out there,” he muttered to himself. “Doctor,” said the Bloke, “A lot of people died today. This kid’s mum included.” They stared at one another over the sand. “Yes,” agreed the Doctor eventually, “And a lot of people lived.” He looked towards the distant escape carriage. The lights of rescue craft were appearing on the horizon. “So what are you saying?” asked the Bloke. “We balanced the books?” “No.” The Doctor shook his head. “I’m saying we did the best we could. In the end that’s all that matters. One good, solid hope is worth a…” The strangest look crossed his face. The Doctor turned away, looking out over the lake. The Bloke wasn’t sure but he thought he heard the Doctor say Brad’s name. The moment passed. The Doctor looked hopefully over the Bloke's shoulder to the back pack. "You've not got anything to eat in there?" The Bloke rummaged in his pocket. "Spacedust?"