Humba screamed, as all three of the creatures closed around him, bathing him in a blue envelope of light. All three spread wings, chittered, and vanished. In a moment, Waterguard Humba’s entire life was seamlessly unstitched from the fabric of time. Every action, every influence, and every consequence he had ever influenced. A multitude of alternate timelines unfolded and a different history untangled itself and spread like a virus, changing, re-moulding, re-fashioning time with intricate precision. It was all over in a billionth of a nano-second. Waterguard Humba was quite literally gone.

Alf was suddenly alone. Still clutching the old bone, she pushed open the mill door, and wrinkled up her nose at the dank smell of rotting wood that came from within. A quick exploration of the inside did not yield much, bar some old boxes and a dozen shelves full of jars of various things. She came across a small box, with what looked like a portable radio connected to it, the whole ensemble no bigger than a telephone.

‘The homing beacon!’ she gasped. ‘Looks simple enough to get working.’

Alf scanned the primitive apparatus. Luckily, it was of almost identical construction to something similar she had rigged up with the Doctor on Bros. She searched her memory to remember what he had done. It was always the things you never paid attention to that you wound up needing to remember.




The colour was returning slowly to Vera’s face as she took in great lung fulls of fresh air.

‘Oh I still can’t believe my Cy could be so wicked, Doctor. He’s never been this naughty before!’

‘Hmmm,’ pondered the Doctor, lost in thought. ‘The casino, the doctor’s surgery… what can it all mean? I’m certain they were all here when we arrived.’

‘Ooh! That’s just like my Barry, Doctor. He lost his marbles slowly too. One minute I’d tell him something important like what was for dinner and then two minutes later he’d be up Galacto Sausage for take away. Get to a certain age and well it’s downhill all the way.’

‘It’s got nothing to do with my marbles; it’s all about time. Things are changing time. History is being unpicked at the seams.’

‘Well how come you remember this casino, Doctor?’ Vera looked confused again.

‘Ah well I have a somewhat special relationship with time. Think of me as a universal horologist. A perpetual outsider if you will.’

‘I used to be a bingo caller back on Astra,’ Vera sighed, ‘it was never like this’




Alf punched the air in satisfaction. The rig-up now appeared to be transmitting a basic homing signal, which any passing ship should be able to lock onto. Now all she had to do was rescue Nick and wait for help to arrive.

‘Back to the house then,’ she said to herself as she exited the mill.

‘That’s exactly where you’re going my dear,’ said a voice from behind her. She spun round, and Professor Endlemann emerged from the shadows. Alf gulped as she eyed the knife in his hand, which he clenched threateningly.

‘I was going that way anyway, mate,’ Alf said casually, discretely slipping the bone she had still been holding up her sleeve.




The Doctor smacked his palms together.

‘Of course, that’s it! The Protii! It’s devouring time! And every time they strike, your memories are restructured, without you even being aware!’

‘I wish I could get rid of my Barry as easily!’ said Vera.

‘I don’t think even Barry would be of any help to us now.’ The Doctor frowned. Something was happening. A low rumble was shaking the sky, and a whispering could be heard. Quiet, but growing louder.

‘It’s happening again, but differently,’ the Doctor murmured. ‘The Protii are coming!’

‘Oh my, Doctor! Look!’ Vera screamed, pointing at the sky. The night sky was shifting, as if an almighty storm were brewing. Streaks of violent lightning coalesced excitedly. Then, suddenly, as if a thousand tiny kaleidoscopes were twisting in unison, the sky was instantly infested with the same number of menacing, bat-like shapes. Shimmering blue, each one a grotesque image of the creature in the cellar.

‘Quick Vera! Inside!’ bellowed the Doctor.

‘Bloody hell!’ she yelled, floundering into the house on her gold stilettos.




In the cellar, Cy felt the walls shake. Nick was still slumped in front of the tank, a grotesque leathery talon around his neck.

‘I’ll be back soon babe.’ Cy stroked Nick’s hair before rushing towards the cellar stairs. ‘You’re far too important for me to forget you.’

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