Professor Nagle sat on the lab stool, watching the Doctor mixing various chemicals in a boiling tube. Between them sat a gla.s.s jar on a stand, being heated mercilessly by the roaring flame of a Bunsen. She had no idea what the Doctor was doing, and half suspected that neither did he.

They'd been taken to the laboratory, and locked inside, with Boris Lindgard, who was sulking over the other side of the room reading yesterday's Aftonbladet Aftonbladet. The creature that had attacked her was in the mortuary on the slab next to Johan. The Doctor had examined the thing, removed the bullet and tended the wound not letting Lindgard anywhere near. Another reason for Boris's sulk. The Doctor had p.r.o.nounced the creature's condition stable, and then he'd started fiddling about with the stuff in the chemical store. She wasn't a chemist, but she knew enough to be worried about the things he was mixing. Especially when he started adding strange yellow powder from a pepper pot he'd produced from somewhere inside his coat. The stuff in the jar was just coming to the boil, giving off vapours which made her head swim.

'Doctor, what are you doing?' she asked at length.

He glanced up. 'How's your hand? And your neck?'

'Um, fine.'

'Good, good,' muttered the Doctor absently, fishing a salt cellar full of tiny blue crystals from his inside pocket. He added them to the contents of the jar, which fizzed and churned furiously.

Nagle slid off the stool and wandered away. She didn't want to be anywhere near that stuff when it boiled over. She sighed. Wolstencroft had won, at least for now. He was going send UNIT troops through the wormhole and there was nothing she could do to stop him. In fact, she'd be forced to help him. The alternative was... well, there was no alternative. The base was under martial law. Wolstencroft had finally got what he wanted.

She tried to look on the bright side or at least the slightly less gloomy side. The generator was still working. Her project was safe. Perhaps if the major did go through the wormhole, and never came back...

The lab was in a state of stand-down; things were packed in boxes, equipment disa.s.sembled. All the other C19 scientists had been evacuated to Stockholm. Still, someone had to face the music. Someone had to stay behind, to try to avert the End of the World.

It still felt unreal. She'd devoted two years of her life to the TC Warp to help all humanity. And now, according to the Doctor, it was going to end end everything? She could see the anger in the Doctor's eyes, even as he'd inquired about her injuries. As if she'd meant to create a wormhole that could destroy the planet. everything? She could see the anger in the Doctor's eyes, even as he'd inquired about her injuries. As if she'd meant to create a wormhole that could destroy the planet.

She walked over to the mortuary, looking through the gla.s.s at the alien. The oddest thing about it was its white hair, which hung straggling over its shoulders. She could see it breathing, its throat pulsing slowly.

Next to it, Johan's body lay out of sight under a grey sheet. Everyone seemed to have forgotten about it. Shouldn't it be disposed of in some way? She was about to go and ask Boris about this when the alien sat up and looked right at her.

'Doctor!' she cried. It was almost instinctual. Was this how his companions reacted? Calling out for him at the first hint of trouble?

The Doctor was at her side in an instant.

The alien was wailing, a thick sound, like an animal in pain. The Doctor opened the door and went inside, Lindgard and Nagle close behind.

The Doctor cradled the creature in his arms, and its wailing subsided into sobs.

It looked wildly around itself, its blue eyes wide. Its pupils were slitted, like a reptile's. Its face was oval, with a circular mouth at the bottom, a row of ridges along the centre of the face. It spoke, in a gruff, dry voice, but its words were complete gibberish.

The Doctor looked gravely at Nagle. 'I'm going to try something,' he said.

Nagle watched as the Doctor got on to the slab with the creature. He rested its head in his lap, cradling it with one hand, pa.s.sing his other hand over its eyes. A milky membrane closed over them.

The Doctor sat cross-legged, a look of concentration on his face. He smiled once, said 'Yes,' and then his head slumped into his chest.

Nagle took a step towards him, but Lindgard held her back.

'What's he doing?' she whispered.

'I'm not sure,' said Lindgard. 'I think he might be trying to telepathically commune with it.'

Nagle jumped as the Doctor's head snapped upright. His mouth opened, closed, and then opened again, gabbling a confused string of words.

'Dominion is dying! Dying! Blight. Blight come, eating all. Soon no Dominion, all Blight. All Blight. Must protect Queen.'

Nagle suppressed a smile. 'He's making this up!'

The Doctor stopped speaking, his mouth and eyes open wide, and he emitted a shriek.

Then he collapsed on top of the creature.

Nagle was at his side in an instant, helping him down from the slab. He was muttering, his eyes unfocused.

She tried to lead him away from the alien, but he wouldn't let go. She noticed that its throat had stopped pulsing. It was dead.

Eventually, the Doctor let go of the alien, though he seemed to be in some sort of trance. With Lindgard's help she got the Doctor out of the mortuary and sat him on a lab stool.

The Doctor opened his eyes. He smiled, and then winced, ma.s.saging his head through his ma.s.s of brown curls. 'You'd think I'd be getting better at this...'

'What did you do?' asked Nagle.

'Soul-catching. I joined minds with the T'hiili. Poor creature. It can't survive long here on Earth.'

'T'hiili,' repeated Lindgard.

'It's actually a T'vorha, a warrior offshoot of the main race. Dedicated to protecting its Queen.' He frowned. 'Not very bright, I'm afraid.'

'Is that all you found out?' said Lindgard.

The Doctor gaped. 'I've just pulled off a very tricky feat of mental bonding; at least try to look impressed! Anyway, there's lots more. The things that besieged the farm we can translate as Bane though they all seemed to have died now. And the others, the spiderlike things they're more like Ruin. And they all live in a place called the Dominion.' He frowned again. 'Not quite sure where that is. And the Dominion is being destroyed by the Blight!' He jumped down from the stool, pacing about. 'Yes, yes, that would make sense; it all all makes sense. Your wormhole has gone into a pocket dimension, you see?' makes sense. Your wormhole has gone into a pocket dimension, you see?'

Hang on. This was theoretical physics, ropy at best. 'Doctor, slow down!'

He paid her no attention. 'That's where it's drawing its energy from and sustaining itself! The wormhole is causing some sort of entropic effect, draining away the substance of the Dominion.' He rounded on Professor Nagle. 'Do you realise that not only are you responsible for the imminent destruction of Earth, but for the genocide of an entire alien race?'

'Great!' snapped Nagle, refusing to give way. 'Next you'll be telling me I'm personally responsible for the Ebola virus, Hurricane Freya and the G.o.dd.a.m.n millennium bug!'

They stared each other out. The Doctor gave way first. He banged a fist down on the bench, making the test tubes rattle. 'Time is running out. I have to get to the other end of that wormhole!'

'Wolstencroft will have you shot,' said Lindgard.

The Doctor smiled thinly. 'I'm hardly going to walk into the generator room, now, am I? Now, are you with me?'

What choice did she have? 'Yes.' She turned to Lindgard. 'Boris?'

He shook his head.

Nagle sighed. 'Doctor, can you give me a minute?'

The Doctor nodded, threw up his hands and began pacing up and down.

Nagle drew Lindgard to one side. 'You have to help us.'

Lindgard rubbed his hands on the front of his lab coat. 'I want nothing to do with this. Fight it out between yourselves. I'm a scientist, and '

'And we're supposed to be running this show,' said Nagle. 'Are you just going to let Wolstencroft walk all over us?'

Lindgard spread his hands. 'He is is walking all over us. It is stupid, walking all over us. It is stupid, suicidal suicidal to argue with men who have guns.' to argue with men who have guns.'

'Even when the fate of the entire planet is at stake?'

'If we're all going to die anyway, what's the point?'

'The point is, if we're all going to die anyway we've got nothing to lose.'

Lindgard shook his head. As I said, I am a scientist '

'You're also a human being,' said Nagle in disgust. 'Or have you cut up so many bodies that you just don't care about that any more?'

The Doctor's voice rang out. 'If you two have quite finished!'

Nagle prodded Lindgard in the chest. Aware that this was a last resort, the sort of thing Wolstencroft would do, she said, 'I'm ordering you to help us.'

The Doctor came back over, beaming. 'All sorted out now? Fine!' He clapped his hands together. 'What I plan to do is go back to my TARDIS, use her to locate the Dominion.' He looked hard at Nagle. 'Usually all I have to say to my companions is "number forty-seven" and they know what to do, but I'm going to have to explain this to you in detail...'

Professor Nagle stood outside the door to the lab, a feeling of girlish excitement bubbling within her. The Doctor had outlined his plan, and it was fiendishly simple. He was standing on a lab bench, arms at full stretch, a test tube in one hand. It was belching acrid smoke up towards the ceiling, towards the smoke sensor. On the bench by his feet stood the jar, the Bunsen extinguished beneath it. Next to that lay a pad of cotton wool.

In front of the doorway stood Lindgard. They'd finally bullied him into helping.

The Doctor coughed, and Nagle held her breath. The yellowish smoke was wreathed around him. Why weren't the alarms kicking in? And then, all of a sudden, a shrill ringing noise burst into life. She jumped.

The Doctor bounced down from the bench, picking up the cotton wool and the jar, taking up position on the opposite side of the door so that, when it opened, he'd be hidden from view. He placed the cotton-wool pad over the top of the jar. 'It's a bit like chloroform,' he whispered. 'But nicer. In fact it might give him rather pleasant dreams.'

A few tense moments pa.s.sed, and then the door opened. Nagle pressed herself against the wall. A UNIT soldier stepped in, rifle at the ready. He was lean and dark, with a thin moustache and brown eyes. 'What's going on in here?'

Lindgard stood before him, wringing his hands together. 'There's been a terrible accident.'

Not as terrible as your acting, thought Nagle. She stepped forward, holding her head and groaning, feeling stupid and terrified all at once. 'I I'm dying,' she croaked.

There was an explosion of movement the Doctor slammed the door, leapt on the soldier and pressed the soaked cotton-wool pad over his mouth.

And then everything went horribly wrong.

The soldier elbowed the Doctor in the stomach. The Doctor collapsed, dropping the pad. The soldier, eyes streaming, turned, slipped, and pulled the trigger of his rifle.

There was the sound of a single shot, horribly loud.

Lindgard staggered backwards, a look of surprise and bewilderment on his face. He reached up to his chest. A patch of blood was spreading out. He looked down at his forgers, red with his own blood.

Nagle went to Lindgard, holding him as he fell. She saw the Doctor sock the soldier on the jaw, with a crack that made her wince. The soldier fell to the ground, gun clattering beside him. The Doctor kicked it into the middle of the room.

She was kneeling now, Lindgard's head in her lap. She didn't know what to do. Was he dying? She felt numb, useless, as though this weren't really happening. His breath was coming in fast, uneven gasps, gurgling in his throat. His blue eyes were staring wildly as he clung to life. Blood flecked his lips. 'Jennifer,' he gasped. 'They were... meant to protect... us.' He coughed, his eyes widened and then dulled. His head lolled in her lap and she felt his body slump.

'Boris?'

A trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth.

She became aware of a sound from above her. The Doctor was staring down at Lindgard, looking through his fingers, his mouth open, a strange noise coming from his throat. It reminded her of a cat being sick. At first, she thought it was the effect of the stuff on the pad but then she realised he was reacting to Boris's death.

He took his hands away from his face and crouched down beside her. He suddenly looked so sad, so old. So frightened. 'I never meant this to happen,' he gasped, his voice fluttering, breathy. 'I never meant never meant this. I never meant this!' this. I never meant this!'

She laid Lindgard's body gently on the floor and led the Doctor away. 'It was an accident.'

'An accident,' he repeated. 'Nothing is ever an accident.'

She found herself hugging him. Hugging the Doctor, for G.o.d's sake. The stories she'd heard of him, she'd been expecting some kind of eccentric superman. Now she was seeing someone as vulnerable, as fallible as well, herself. Here he was, totally thrown by the death of someone he didn't even particularly like, when the fate of the whole world was at stake. Two worlds, if you counted the Dominion. She realised suddenly why b.a.s.t.a.r.ds like Wolstencroft saw the Doctor as a threat he cared about everyone, everything. No matter who or what, all life was precious. And he wasn't afraid to show that he cared if Wolstencroft was scared of the Doctor; it was because he was reminded of his own deadness, his own lack of humanity.

She remembered the Doctor's anger when he found out that she was responsible for the abductions, the deaths. How she'd been disappointed in him. How she'd she'd been lacking humanity. been lacking humanity.

They stood apart. 'Are you all right?'

The Doctor nodded.

The alarms were still ringing, so the Doctor used the unconscious soldier's radio to report a false alarm, doing a very pa.s.sable impression of his voice. Nagle was glad when the ringing stopped.

They carried Lindgard's body into the mortuary, on to one of the empty slabs, working in silence. Then they cleaned up the body the best they could. They tied up the soldier using electrical flex.

Now they sat down at a lab bench, facing each other. The shock of Lindgard's death was beginning to hit Nagle and her hands were shaking. They began discussing how to get out of the base without (a) getting shot and (b) hurting anyone else. She was telling him about the lift shaft that led from a disused part of the C19 base into the forest near Strangnas. Ever security-conscious, Wolstencroft had always hated that little arrangement. He kept it closed off most of the time. But, once the alien manifestations had started, it became a convenient way to slip in and out of the base un.o.bserved. It was their only chance.

The Doctor stood up. 'We'd better get going.'

Nagle stayed put. 'I'm staying here.'

The Doctor ruffled his hair, made an aggrieved sound. 'It's too dangerous! Look what happened to Lindgard. Imagine what Wolstencroft will do when he finds out!'

She folded her arms. 'I'm staying, Doctor.'

The Doctor's expression grew more pained. 'Why?'

She had to stay, try to salvage her project. At the very least, she could take her notes and disks and get the h.e.l.l out. 'Someone needs to keep an eye on Wolstencroft.'

The Doctor sighed. 'And there's nothing I can say or do to persuade you otherwise?'

'No.'

'Well. It's up to you. But I have no choice: I have to go.' He walked towards the door, opening it and turning back to her. She thought he was going to say something more but his face was blank, expressionless. A hardness around the eyes. A reminder of who he was, what he thought of her project?

Nagle smiled, gave a thumbs-up. 'Good luck, Doctor.'

Then he was gone.

The lab seemed terribly quiet after the door closed behind him.