As Nick made his call and the Doctor looked on, neither of them watching the puddle.

If they had been, they would have seen something else. Two somethings else, actually. Coming into view from one edge of the puddle was first one and then another patch of whiteness. In the centre of each patch of white was a red circle, like a drop of fresh blood. They drifted amongst the rainbow flashes in the puddle, remaining the same distance apart. If the observer was prone to anthropomorphise things, they may have said that the shape and spacing of the two white patches were like eyes. The same observer would probably interpret the changes in size and shape of the two white patches as the “eyes” widening in surprise at what they saw, and then narrowing in thought. Then they shrank in size like they were sinking into the depths.




‘… So between Endlemann colliding with the creatures and me dragging Nick away, the Protii were forced back to their home dimension.’ As she finished speaking, Alf took a degree of pleasure in the look of wonder in Vishkalaar’s eyes. It was a great thing, being able to take her feelings from the past and turn them upside down. When she had first started working in Federation Internment Centre 5486, she had only just arrived on Alpha Centauri and had no memory of her past at all. While most of her co-workers had been quite distant, Vishkalaar had taken the time to make sure she was settling in. Having met a large number of Draconians since then, Alf was amazed at her friend’s openness. Possibly that was why he had got a posting away from Draconia.

If they had been here back in those days, Alf would have had no stories to tell, her life before then a blank slate. Vishkalaar had been an important part of learning about the Federation, life in and around Senate Square, and what this time was like. Now, well, her recent past was simply jam-packed with the most amazing stories, and it seemed only fair to share them with her old friend. This restaurant, where her mysterious benefactor had brought her after she had found herself on Alpha Centauri, seemed the most appropriate place for it. Besides, the Doctor said it served the best food on the surface of the planet.

Her friend broke Alf’s reverie. ‘So, you haven’t met God Empress Jaahkathna since the ceremony of honour after the end of the war?’ asked Vishkalaar. His eyes were on the medal Alf had received from the Empress, which was lying on the table where Alf had left it. Despite his obvious interest in the medal, Vishkalaar had declared himself unworthy of even touching it.

‘Ah, no,’ she replied. ‘Truth to tell, I’ve had more contact with you and Vorkuuthh than any other Draconians.’ She gave the other a searching look. ‘You know, you never struck me as particularly interested in the goings-on on Draconia when we were working together.’

‘There wasn’t much to be interested in before the war. Draconians are a warrior race; we need conflict for both personal and societal growth. Under the reign of God Emperor Karhaazaar, who resides now with his ancestors, we had become far to inward looking. Those who could not or did not get a posting off-planet tended to get involved in fruitless political struggles. Conflict for the sake of conflict is never healthy. Now, after the war, there has been real work for Draconians, and the true strengths of my race can come to the fore.’

‘What about the Peace Timers, then?’

‘Ironically, taking a position in favour of peace simply allowed some Draconians to fight their political battles from unfavourable positions. Any victory achieved by a Peace Timer was therefore a greater victory than a similar one for a soldier because it was from a position of weakness. But, in the end, they were all games. I wanted real work, but my family lacked the status required for a true military posting, so I ended up in the security forces instead.’

Alf nodded, remembering the attitude of Rukaar to her lack of official status, and the arguments between Vorkuuthh and his son Voraan. It sounded like Vishkalaar had taken the sane and sensible way out. She opened her mouth to say something when suddenly her datacom’s alert signal sounded. She looked at Vishkalaar and shrugged apologetically. ‘Sorry, better make sure that isn’t important.’

As Vishkalaar busied himself with the remains of the meal in front of him, he could not help but note that after Alf had indicated that she was fine she spent most of the remainder of the call listening and sometimes trying to get a word in without much luck. After the call was over, she returned her attention to him.

‘Sorry. That was Nick. Something’s come up back at the shop. He doesn’t know if it’s important or not, but the way things go when you’re travelling with the Doctor, I’d better get back before those two get themselves in too deep.’ She got to her feet and held out her hand, human style, to say farewell. Vishkalaar was used to this by now, and he grasped her hand firmly. ‘I’ll call you soon,’ Alf said. ‘Don’t worry about the bill, I’ll get that on the way out.’

‘Make sure you call me when Nick answers your question,’ the other responded.

Alf nodded, smiling, and turned towards the exit. Before she walked away, she turned back and grinned sheepishly, scooped up her medal from the table, and then headed off.




When she walked through the shop and into the living quarters, Alf saw Nick and the Doctor both engaged in their normal pass-times. Nick was eating, something the Doctor had prepared by the look of it, and had his journal open on the table next to him. On the other side of the table, the Doctor had constructed an unfeasibly complex looking device that crouched, spider-like, over some odd light source that she could not see properly. He, too, had a book open before him – some kind of notebook into which he was transcribing readings from his gadget. Neither of them looked up as she entered the room.

Men! Bloody typical. Call her home and then ignore her. She did not feel like being ignored, so she struck a pose and said, loudly, ‘Hi honey, I’m home!’

The Doctor’s raised eyebrows and short glance at her were soon replaced by a look of concentration as he returned to his work. But more gratifying was Nick coming around the table and giving her a quick hug and a kiss.

‘So, what’s all this about the amulets going all weird?’ she asked Nick, while still enjoying his touch and proximity.

‘They sort of… like, melted,’ replied Nick. He grabbed her hand and drew her around to where the Doctor sat. ‘That’s them, that puddle thing.’

Looking through the gaps in the framework of technological nonsense, Alf could see glows and shapes moving in the pool of silvery liquid that lay on the table.

The Doctor glanced up at her again. ‘Interesting, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘If you watch long enough, it will display a scene from this planet’s past. Despite the change in state, this substance appears to still be time-active.’

‘Hadn’t you better check her out?’ asked Nick.

‘Ah yes. Alf, I’ve scanned Nick and myself for any readings that would indicate that we are somehow connected to or affected by this substance. If you’ll just allow me…’ He unplugged a couple of sensors from his array, and then reconnected them with some leads.

‘This all looks a bit low-tech, Doctor,’ commented Alf as the older man attached one sensor to her forehead, and waved the other like some kind of diviner’s wand around her body.

‘Appearances can be deceptive,’ replied the Doctor as he checked the readings on his equipment with some he had noted down earlier. He looked up at Alf and Nick. ‘Very similar readings to our earlier ones, which is to say just some residual traces of you in this substance and of the substance in you, Alf. It shows some connection, but I believe simply because you had your amulet for a while.’

‘So we’re all safe then?’ commented Nick. ‘Good stuff.’

‘Well, we are dealing with something I’ve no experience of, and something that doesn’t match any phenomenon recorded in the TARDIS databanks. “Safe” remains to be seen, my boy. However, there seems to be no immediate danger.’

‘Why did you say, “appearances can be deceptive”, Doctor?’ Alf interrupted, suspecting the two were about to go into the “wise master/willing pupil” routine that seemed to be the blueprint of their friendship.

‘Well, look at this stuff,’ replied the Doctor. ‘Looks like a liquid, doesn’t it? But it can’t be – the nearest reading in the TARDIS database is the background chronon radiation of the space/time vortex. So if this is some kind of chronal substance, it is only our minds making it look like a liquid, that being the closest analogous form we can perceive. It probably looks a little different to each of us.’ He reached up and stroked his beard thoughtfully. ‘In any case, I won’t work it out unless I keep at it.’

The Doctor reattached the sensors he had used to scan Alf, and began to lower a probe into the liquid on the table. Nick leaned in closer to see what he was doing and bumped into the Doctor, whose hands knocked the probe and caused it to fall. He turned to his friend in annoyance.

‘Nick, I know you’re trying to help, but you really must get out from under my feet! True genius needs room to express itself.’

Nick looked over at Alf, who was rolling her eyes. ‘Okay, Doctor,’ he said, turning back to his mentor. ‘Look, Alf and I will head out somewhere.’ He looked down at the flickering brilliance of the little pool again. ‘I know! How about that Alpha Centauri nightclub I told you about, Alf?’

‘Suits me – I should work off lunch somehow. And that’ll give our favourite mad scientist the chance to spend some quality time with that liquid time or whatever it is – eh, Doctor?’

‘“Liquid time”? A very good guess, Alf, for that is exactly what it is. And yes, I think I can work on this better by myself. Go out, relax, have fun… and keep your datacom handy, just in case I need you.’ The Doctor smiled genially and waved them away.