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The mouth of the cave came rushing at her. She blinked the sweat away and smiled grimly, realising that there was nothing she could do. ‘Sorry, guys,’ she whispered, quite sure that neither Nick nor the Doctor could hear her over the incessant creaking of the ship. She closed her eyes and was jerked suddenly forward. Alf came to with a start. Instinctively her hand reached up to the scar on her cheek. She felt dry blood. The scar was a constant gentle throbbing to her as she looked around. They were in a room that was carved out of rock. On the far side was a rock door, adorned with gold patterns. The room was empty of furniture of any description; indeed Alf herself was lying on the floor. Nick was sitting beside the rock door; his head slumped in sleep. He was still dressed in his jeans and his red t-shirt with the blue-outlined Spider-man mask dead in the centre. His clothes were filthy and torn, his usually immaculate blonde hair a mess. Alf grinned, slightly amused by the state of him. Since leaving the Collector’s little world Nick had become very self-conscious, attaching a great deal of importance to his appearance. He still wore his clothes casually, but they were a lot tidier than before, even his hair was. Before their little adventure with the giant jellyfish Nick’s hair was worn in a very loose ponytail, with strands often hanging out. But since then his hair was worn tight, he even used a bit of gel to keep the loose strands under control. Now, however, his hair was more of a mess than Alf had ever seen it. (Well, Alf thought to herself coyly, except for after a night of rough ’n’ tumble.) Slowly and carefully Alf got to her feet, unsure of how wounded the rest of her body was. As it turned out the only damage was to her face. No doubt from when her head hit the navigation console, Alf reasoned. She looked down at her own dirty clothes. The material from which the clothes were made was a lot stronger than Nick’s, therefore there were no holes or tears, only dust and dirt. Loads of dust and dirt. Her gun was missing from her leg holster, and she had an image of it lying on her black coat back on “Earth’s Pride”. She reached down and rolled up the left leg, and was annoyed to find that her Draconian blade was no longer strapped to her leg. Someone had taken it. From the moment she had awoken she had realised that someone had brought Nick and her from the ship. Nick was in no state to move himself, let alone anyone else. And it seemed that the same someone had nicked her knife. She walked over to Nick and gently shook his shoulders. ‘Oi, Nick, wake up.’ Nick began to stir. Alf watched him as he slowly woke up, her eyes glowing with affection. She smiled and brushed some of the hair out of his eyes. ‘You really need to get this cut, you know.’ He looked up at her and smiled weakly. Alf kissed him. ‘Just don’t go spiking it up, all right?’ she said, half seriously. Nick’s eyes opened wide and he looked around. ‘Where are we?’ ‘No idea.’ Alf stood up and surveyed the room. ‘Some type of room fashioned out of the rock. A cell, perhaps?’ Nick smiled in a lopsided manner. ‘That figures.’ He got to his feet and began to dust himself down. ‘Look at the state of me.’ Alf smiled. ‘Yeah, nice, eh? Hopefully “Earth’s Pride” is in a better condition.’ ‘She isn’t. I had to drag you out of her. She’s totalled, Alf. Can’t see how that ship will be getting us off this planet.’ Alf was a little disheartened by the news, and let out a resigned sigh. ‘Oh well.’ She walked over to Nick and tore a bit of material off his Spider-man t-shirt. ‘Hey!’ ‘Quit complaining, it’s no good now.’ Nick was about to complain further but Alf shushed him. She wet the edge of the material with a bit of spittle and began to wipe the dried blood from above his forehead. ‘First off, we need to get out of here and find the Doctor. Once we’re all together we can think about getting off this planet. I’m sure that between us we can work out how to send out some kind of distress signal, maybe there is something that we can salvage from “Earth’s Pride”?’ ‘That reminds me. Before the ship landed the Doctor was flung outside. He could be anywhere.’ Alf stepped back. ‘Right then, we need to get out of here and find him.’ Before either of them could consider the how, the door was opened. Nick quickly moved to Alf’s side, noticing Alf’s muscle tense as he did so. Two aliens walked into the room. Both had guns. And both were pointing them at Nick and Alf. Alf stepped forward before either of the aliens could say anything. ‘What’s the name of this planet?’ she asked, in an effort to distract them. For a moment the younger of the aliens looked a little surprised. He turned to his companion. ‘Thohum was wrong, they do speak our language.’ He looked back and regarded Alf and Nick was a suspicious eye. ‘This is Voga and no one must know you were here.’ Both of the aliens raised their guns. ‘So you must both die.’ ‘What do you mean I am dying?’ The Doctor glared at the Figure, not sure whether to laugh or not. ‘As Nick would say, “you’re having a laugh”, right?’ The Figure shook his head solemnly. ‘No, I only wish I was. The universe has already lost one Doctor, it can not afford to lose another.’ ‘No, no. I cannot accept that, I’m sorry.’ The Doctor turned away and walked over to the door. He thought back to the memory of the clone dying on Nova Mondas. He shook his head and banged on the door. ‘Let me out of here!’ he yelled. The Figure walked over to the Doctor and placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘You must accept it. You are dying. You have been dying ever since the Doctor created you.’ The Doctor stopped banging on the door and turned to the Figure, the colour draining out of his face. ‘Since...?’ The Doctor recognises the vortex as the dimension beyond the Fifth Wall in his shop back on Alpha Centauri. He does not recognise the machine, however, although he feels that he should. Tubes flow out the strange machine, snaking across the floor. He follows them with his eyes, but they trail to a place beyond his immediate vision. The Doctor looks at himself, as he turns around. He is given an odd look by... well, by himself. ‘Soon,’ the Doctor says. The Doctor shook his head again. ‘No, you can’t be telling me...’ He could not bring himself to say the words. ‘I can be. And I am.’ The Figure smiled, but it was a sad smile, and as he spoke the following words a great weight came slamming down onto the man before him. ‘The Doctor died on Nova Mondas saving the Federation from the Cybermen. You were created by stolen Qux technology. You are the clone.’
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