'It was in the barn, with the pigs. How it got in...' Bjorn shook his head.

They looked at each other. He spoke first. 'There must be a rational explanation.'

She nodded, glad he'd said this. She really wanted to believe it. 'Why didn't you take it to the police?'

He looked around sharply 'I don't want anyone here. You know I like my solitude. If people find out about this, that would be the end of it.'

She understood his reluctance. This creature was weird enough to bring the police, the media, UFO hunters and all sorts of nutters to the farm. It would be the end of Bjorn's hermit-like existence and probably his sanity. She thought of the little farmhouse, frozen in time since 1989, a shrine to the past.

But this creature could be a link to what happened to Johan. It had appeared inside a locked barn without explanation; Johan had disappeared without explanation. There must be a link. She had to take it to the police.

She made a decision. 'I'll take it. On my own.'

Bjorn shook his head. 'No.'

'I'll tell them I found it by the roadside, miles from here. No connection with you at all.'

He waved a hand at her, suddenly angry. 'Do what you want with it. It's dead, and that's all I care.' He trudged out of the tractor shed towards the farmhouse without a second glance at her.

She watched him go, restraining her anger. Well, she'd have to do it herself.

She went back to where the dead thing lay in its grey shroud. The smell was worse now; there was no way she could go near it. She looked around, found a spade and used it to lollop the tarpaulin around the creature. That done, she grabbed the edge farthest away from the lump in the middle and dragged it outside. Her car was parked beside the porch, the police had kindly driven it here for her. This meant dragging the thing all the way up the drive. In this heat. But she had no choice, and set to the task. It wasn't heavy, but it was unwieldy and that smell...

Perhaps this was an undiscovered species, living at the bottom of the lake for centuries, emerging only now and then. She stood up, wiping her brow. The red, square shape of the farmhouse, with its white-framed windows and shutters, seemed to be peering down at her, mocking her efforts. She bent and grabbed the tarpaulin again, taking it across the yard towards the gate that led to the driveway. Bits of the creature were falling out of the other end of the tarpaulin, leaving bright green smears on the ground. She suddenly felt sick and wondered what the h.e.l.l she was doing.

Then she felt a hand on her shoulder.

She stood up, startled.

There stood Bjorn, a look of contrition on his face. 'We'll use the truck. Don't want to stink up your car.'

She blinked, wiping sweat out of her eyes. 'OK. You sure?'

He nodded, and grabbed the tarpaulin, swinging it round towards the old Ford truck, stationed outside the tractor shed.

As she helped him manhandle the tarpaulin and its grisly contents into the truck, she asked him what made him change his mind.

'I was thinking, in the house.'

Drinking as well, if his breath was anything to go by.

He shaded his eyes against the sun. 'You've lost someone. I know what that feels like. From now on, I'll help you.'

He gave the tarpaulin a final shove and it fell with a thump into the back of the truck.

Chapter Four.

In a Hole Fitz followed the Doctor across the field towards the farm, the long dry gra.s.s rustling against his legs. 'What exactly are we going to say to them?'

'We'll tell them that we're travellers, and we're lost,' said the Doctor. 'It's the truth. With any luck, they'll offer us tea, and maybe cake if we're lucky.'

The mention of refreshments made Fitz realise how thirsty he was. He licked his parched lips. Wow. It was hot, a dry, penetrating heat from which there was no respite. He looked ahead to the farm, hoping there was someone there to feed and water them. Beyond the farm was another arm of forest. To their left, more forest. And there was no telltale traffic noise. Probably nothing but fields and pine forests for miles around. Fitz was beginning to get the measure of the TARDIS's little quirks. Emergency landing huh; couldn't have put them down anywhere useful, could it? Like in a modern, prosperous city. Had to be the middle of b.l.o.o.d.y nowhere.

Fitz was about to say something about this when the ground fell away beneath his feet and he fell straight down, shouting in surprise, hands shooting out to clutch at clumps of gra.s.s. He landed with a jolt, bending his knees, falling over on his side. It had happened so quickly that he didn't have time to be scared, and he stood up blinking, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Clumps of mud and turf fell on him from above.

'Are you all right?' came the Doctor's voice.

Stupid question. 'Oh, fine,' called Fitz. He looked up from where he had fallen. Above him, just out of reach, there was a ragged Fitz-sized hole, a fringe of stubbly gra.s.s framing the blue sky.

'Don't worry I'll get you out.' He could hear the gra.s.s rustle as the Doctor hurried away.

A shaft of sunlight defined a dappled circle on the soil beneath his feet. He seemed to be in a spherical chamber about twelve feet across. There was no way out other than the one he'd accidentally made. What the h.e.l.l could have made this, just below the surface of the ground, so that his weight as he walked across it would cause it to cave in? Was it a trap? He spun round, heart thumping, but he saw quickly that there was no one and nothing in here but himself. He tried jumping out, but the gra.s.s-fringed hole was too far above to reach. He calmed down, and tried to reason out what he'd fallen into. Could it be the den of some weird creature? If it was, where was said creature? Perhaps it was a natural phenomenon soil erosion? He was no expert on geology. Perhaps the Doctor would know.

At least it was cool down here. Fitz touched the curving wall; it was only slightly damp.

At length Fitz heard footsteps from above, and a strange sc.r.a.ping noise. 'Are you still there?' came the Doctor's voice.

Another stupid question. The Doctor had to be joking. 'No, I've gone shopping.'

Something brushed against the opening of the hole. There was a metallic sc.r.a.ping noise and a succession of metal bars pa.s.sed over the hole. It took Fitz a moment or so to work out that the Doctor was sliding a ladder across. Of course, if the Doctor walked over the top the whole thing would cave in and they would both be trapped he was using the ladder to distribute his weight.

The Doctor's head appeared between the rungs, his face in darkness, his brown hair made golden by the sun. 'h.e.l.lo!' he said. 'I'm oops!'

Fitz crouched into a ball and covered his head with his arms as Doctor, ladder and an avalanche of soil and turf fell on top of him.

When he opened his eyes it was to see the Doctor, head downward and feet pointing up into the sky, still clinging on to the ladder, the top of which was rather conveniently resting on the lip of what was now a bowl-shaped crater. The ceiling of the spherical hole had completely collapsed.

Fitz clapped slowly and, he hoped, sardonically.

The Doctor scrambled off the ladder. 'Not quite what I had in mind.' He walked up the ladder. Fitz followed quickly. He looked back down into the hole, which was now a crater big enough to park a car in.

The Doctor grimaced. 'Hope the farmer's a reasonable fellow.'

Fitz brushed bits of dirt from his hair. 'What could have caused it?'

The Doctor shrugged. 'Don't know. One of the things strewn in our way to annoy us, I suppose.' He smiled. 'A metaphor for our predicament we're in a hole, a very deep one.' His face became sad and he gazed back towards the forest. 'A very deep one indeed.'

They stood in silence for a while, as a welcome cool breeze ruffled the gra.s.s and played over their faces.

Then the Doctor said, 'Come on, we'd better take the ladder back to the farm. There's no one there, by the way, so we'll have to forgo tea.'

Fitz felt a sinking feeling of disappointment as they walked up to the farm. From the looks of it, it really was in the back of beyond. The farmhouse itself was small and square, almost too cute and perfect. It was wooden, painted rustred, and its quaint little windows sported white-painted shutters. It looked ridiculously small; why have such a tiny place with all this land? Probably to conserve heat in the freezing winters, he reasoned.

The Doctor leaned the ladder against the wall. 'Perhaps they're working in those barns down there,' he muttered, pointing down the slope, to where a cl.u.s.ter of farm buildings bordered a courtyard. They walked down the sloping gardens, the Doctor still irritatingly cool-looking. Fitz was already drenched in sweat.

'h.e.l.lo!' cried the Doctor. 'Anyone at home?'

His voice vanished into the heat and brightness of the sun. Fitz squinted and shaded his eyes. No doubt about it, the place was totally deserted. Just great.

He turned and walked back up the slope towards the farmhouse. The area around the house was littered with bits of machinery, boxes, wheelbarrows and junk. There was a wired-off chicken coop containing some threadbare hens. The whole place had an unsettling air of loneliness.

Fitz followed a gravel path to the back of the house, which was shaded by a copse of fir trees, growing apart from the main body of the forest. Parked on a wide gravel driveway was a shiny red car. It looked futuristic to Fitz, like something out of a Dan Dare strip all smooth curves, with no extraneous parts. But as he looked he could see it was a logical extension of the vehicles he was used to in his own time.

Furthermore, its presence meant that there could be somebody around.

The entrance to the farmhouse was through a small gla.s.s conservatory. Fitz tried the door, hammering on the peeling green paint, but there was no response.

He sighed.

Back in the coolness of the shade, he took out his cigarette lighter and Camels. He lit up, leaning against the bonnet of the car.

He took a few puffs, and felt instantly relaxed. He closed his eyes, trying not to think of Sam spiralling away down that impossible whirlpool. But it was no use. The guilt wouldn't go away. He could have saved her, if he'd The sound of footsteps crunching on gravel interrupted his thoughts. He opened his eyes to see the Doctor standing before him, hands on hips.

'What are you doing, Fitz?'

Fitz felt like a schoolboy caught smoking behind the bike sheds by the headmaster. Indeed, at that moment the Doctor did resemble a rather cross schoolteacher. 'Having a smoke.'

The Doctor frowned.

'Helps me relax,' Fitz added lamely.

The Doctor opened his mouth as if he was about to deliver an anti-smoking rant. Then he seemed to think better of it and held up his hands. 'Whatever helps, Fitz. Right now I could do with a cup of tea. Does the same thing for me.' He flashed a smile. 'Come on, we've got to find the nearest town.'

Fitz was reluctant to leave the shade. He patted the bonnet of the car. 'We could use this.'

The Doctor shook his head. 'No, we couldn't. Stealing would only land us in trouble with the local police.'

'So what are we going to do?'

'Walk!' said the Doctor brightly. 'Can't be far.'

Fitz sighed. 'Bet it's b.l.o.o.d.y miles,' he muttered, and then set off after the Doctor.

As it turned out, they didn't have to walk far at all. The rough track led to a tarmac road, which in turn gave on to a wide dual carriageway. Rather fortunately, a steel-grey bus was waiting at a stop, and they boarded it gratefully.

Fitz hung back, let the Doctor do all the talking.

The bus driver, a young blond-haired chap in a sleeveless shirt, spoke English, and the Doctor ascertained that they were in Sweden, some fifty miles west of Stockholm. There was a bit of bother about paying their fare; luckily, the Doctor found a couple of ten-krona notes scrunched up with some other items of currency in his waistcoat pocket. Fitz half suspected that the Doctor's pockets had TARDIS-like attributes.

As Fitz boarded he noticed the driver give them a funny look. He smiled back, thinking that he'd better get used to funny looks probably wouldn't be the last he got today. He joined the Doctor at the back of the bus, and they set off along the dual carriageway.

From peering at a newspaper the pa.s.senger in front was reading, Fitz saw that the date was 31 July 1999.

So he was in the future. Sam's time, near enough.

They got off at the first town, Strangnas, and went to a small cafe off one of the narrow cobbled streets. The Doctor's money bought them sandwiches, cakes and tea.

Fitz was feeling out of place. As well as being over three decades in his future, Sweden was a country he had never visited and knew little of. He couldn't speak a word of Swedish. Usually, the TARDIS telepathic circuits would translate but not this time. The TARDIS was too badly damaged. Fortunately, so the Doctor said, almost all Swedes spoke English as a second language. Well that was certainly a relief.

Fitz gulped down a mouthful of rye bread. It was question time. 'What do you think is going on? I mean, that alien insect. And that hole I fell into. What would that have to do with what happened to the TARDIS? To Sam?'

The Doctor's eyes grew distant-looking. 'When you've travelled as far and as wide as I have, Fitz, then you'll begin to see the beauty and the delicate sadness of the interconnectedness of all things.' He spoke quickly, whispering, leaning across the table towards Fitz. 'Everything that has happened since this morning is all part of some plan, some scheme, some terrible course of events that we're smack bang in the middle of.'

Despite the oppressive heat, Fitz felt a chill. He looked around the cafe, at its pale-cream walls and dark oak furniture, the other customers in their summer clothes. It all looked normal, but a sense of dislocation crept over him as so often happened when travelling with the Doctor. 'How do you know?'

'Believe me, I know.'

There was a hard edge to the Doctor's voice. Fitz knew the Doctor well enough to know that he could pretend that things weren't affecting him, but the plight of the TARDIS and Sam was obviously taking its toll.

The Doctor put down his cup, smiling widely his mood changing in an instant. 'That was a splendid cup of tea.' The simple things in life always seemed to please him. 'Come on, let's find the best hotel in town!'

There was a problem with this, thought Fitz. 'Have you got any more money?'

'Er, no,' said the Doctor as he opened the door of the cafe. 'But we'll work around that,' he added airily.

Back outside, the summer heat hit Fitz again. Strangnas was a picturesque, tranquil, lakeside town. The buildings were immaculate, with orange-red tiled roofs, pastel or white walls, and tiny square windows. They all had a similarity to each other, as if the whole town had been designed by one architect. But Strangnas, the Doctor told him, was a very old town, with roots in the pagan history of Sweden.

The most impressive feature, in Fitz's eyes, was the red-brick tower which loomed over the town from the top of a small rise. Black birds, probably crows, fluttered around it and Fitz could see dozens of them perched on dark windowsills.

They walked along a street lined with shops, banks and cafes. At the end was a busy lakeside marina, a boat trip just setting off. A conical red-brick windmill peered out from behind the houses at the water's edge.

And on the other side of the street Fitz saw Sam.

He stopped dead, hardly believing it. Sam. She was alive, she was here here!

She was getting into the pa.s.senger seat of an orange farm truck. It was parked outside a rather severe-looking red-brick building and was revving up to go.

Fitz ran across the road, dodging traffic, yelling Sam's name. He was vaguely aware of the Doctor shouting, but he kept on running as the truck pulled away. But Sam hadn't seen him, and soon it had disappeared around the corner of the street.

Fitz stood in the middle of the road, panting, his shirt sticking to his back with sweat.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. 'I'm sure that was her, Doctor,' he muttered, but when he turned round it was to see that the owner of the hand was an unsmiling police officer.

Fitz put on his best, most disarming grin. 'Sorry, officer. Thought she was a friend of mine.'

The officer said something in Swedish and Fitz allowed himself to be led gently towards the building the van had been parked outside.

The Doctor suddenly appeared by his side, right up close to Fitz. 'Are you sure that was Sam?'

Fitz nodded. But was he? He'd seen a girl with blonde hair. Not uncommon, especially in this country. 'No.'