'Excuse me,' Polly said nervously, unsure why she was so worried about how they'd react. 'Are you Robert Chate?'

A wide grin crept across the man's face. 'Isn't he supposed to be dead?'

Polly nodded. 'I thought so but... you're him, aren't you?'

The photo she had seen had been of a man with a paler and more heavily scarred face, but despite this he was definitely the same person.

The man smiled. 'If you can keep it under your hat, then, yeah. I guess I am.'

'But aren't you supposed to be dead?'

'Listen sweetheart, I'm not the same guy I was, and a gorgeous thing like you shouldn't believe everything you read in the papers.'

Polly felt ridiculous and embarrassed, but at the same time she found the man's words calming. He had a voice like silk and everything he said, every body gesture, just seemed to relax her.

'So what's your name?' the woman sitting next to Chate asked.

'Polly. Pleased to meet you...'

'Maria.'

'Pleased to meet you, Maria.'

Chate looked at Polly with an expression of surprise. 'You don't recognise Maria? Maria Coleman?'

Polly shook her head. 'Should I?'

A bemused Chate let out a small chuckle. 'She's a movie star. The best there is. Do you like movies, Polly?'

At last. Now the conversation was turning in the direction Polly had hoped it would. If they could talk about movies, then maybe Chate could reveal if he knew anything about Dying in the Dying in the Sun Sun. 'I love movies,' she said. 'Although I haven't seen any for a while. I've been out of town, you see.'

'Not everyone's heard of me anyway, darling,' Maria told Chate. She looked up at Polly. 'He's so lovely. Sticks up for me about the smallest things.'

Polly felt her heart sink. This Maria woman was clearly more than friends with Chate.

'So what can we do for you?' Chate asked.

Polly barely heard what he had said. She just knew that every word washed over her and made her feel at ease. And then she remembered what this reminded her of.

In her mind's eye she saw herself pointing the gun at the Doctor, felt her finger being forced to tighten against the trigger, remembered the total trust she had felt in Caleb Rochefort. A feeling she was getting again now.

Her heart began to race. This was it. Her chance for redemption. Whatever had seemed strange about Caleb seemed to be present in these two. This was her chance to find out what these people really were, to give the Doctor the evidence against the film that he needed. If she could only resist their influence, though. You have to be strong, Polly, she told herself. You have to be strong.

'I want to be in the movies,' was the first thing she could think of to say. 'Got any tips?'

Chate looked intrigued, and put his arm round Maria. They huddled down and whispered a few words to each other out of earshot of Polly.

The couple stood up, then Maria walked out of the booth and gently placed an arm on Polly's shoulder. 'You're very pretty,' she told her. 'Hollywood is crying out for pretty girls like you. You could easily be a star, you know.'

Polly's rainswept face was reflected in a window and as she caught a glimpse of it she wondered what planet this woman was from. Literally.

But then she saw something in Maria's expression that made her realise that the sentiments were totally genuine.

'We can make it happen, you know,' Chate said. 'Maria works for a... a studio, let's call it, and we know people who make stars out of ordinary girls every day. If you're really serious about wanting to be in the movies... You are serious aren't you?'

So many people in this town were telling Polly she should be famous. Surely that many people couldn't be wrong? She had visions of limousines, of signing autographs, of knowing that millions of fans would be appreciating her work. She had travelled more than anyone, and had enough experience to draw on to know that she would make an amazing actress. She just knew.

'Yes,' Polly said with determination. 'I'm definitely serious.'

'Then come with us now,' Chate said gently. 'We'll show you what we're talking about.'

Part of Polly was wary. Part of her knew that if she wasn't careful she'd end up losing control to Chate in the same way she had to Caleb. But she had been caught off-guard before. This time she was prepared. This time she could shield herself against their influence. After all, they were so genuine, so honest. Caleb had wanted to make her kill the Doctor, but all Maria and Chate wanted to do was make her a star. She knew she had to trust them. If they tried to persuade her to do anything stupid she'd just leave, just walk away. Wouldn't she?

Chate, Maria and Polly got up and walked over to the exit where Chate picked up a large brown fur coat, put it around Maria's shoulders, then put on his own jacket. Polly suddenly realised that she hadn't taken off her coat at all, and was surprised she hadn't felt too hot.

They walked out into the warm night and Maria led them to a large car that was waiting across the street. She unlocked it, got into the driver's seat, flicked on the reading light, then gestured for Polly to sit in the passenger seat. Chate got in the back, and once they were all inside he and Maria fell silent for a few moments.

'So where are we going then?' Polly asked.

'Back to mine,' Maria said. 'We all need to get some rest. I've got some errands to run tomorrow, and then in a day or two I'll take you to meet the director. You'll want to take time to make sure you look your best for that.'

'Who's the director?'

'He's the guy ultimately responsible for introducing America to the wonders we'll show you,' Chate explained. 'He's organising a campaign to distribute it to as many people as possible. He's a philanthropist of the highest order. His vision of peace and prosperity for this city... it's unbelievable. A place where there's no crime, where everyone is worshipped as stars.

We have some things to discuss with him, but I'm sure he'd love to meet you.' He smiled. 'But first we want to show you something.'

'It's OK,' Maria said. 'You'll like this.'

'Reach into the glove box,' Chate said. 'Take out what you find.'

Polly did so, and found a small clay jar that weighed more than it looked like it should. 'What's this?' she asked.

'Inside that jar,' began Chate, 'is the key to being a celebrity.

It's not who you know, it's what you know. And this is what you should know if you're going to be famous.'

'Go on,' Maria urged. 'Open it.'

Polly pressed the lid off the jar and a dazzling light spilled out. The jar contained a bright liquid that popped and crackled as if it had an electrical current running through it. Sparks in a rainbow of metallic colours swirled energetically around.

Looking into the liquid was like looking into paradise. It reminded Polly something. Of the hospital, when she had seen Caleb's blood. That hadn't looked as dazzling as this liquid, but the bright glow, the entrancing illumination that was both painful to look at and impossible to look away from, was the same.

'Is this... is this blood?' Polly asked.

Chate shook his head. 'It's not blood. It's a marvellous substance that will do you no harm. Medical science in years to come will marvel at what it will do for mankind. Drinking that has completely changed my life, it completely changed Maria's life. It heals your ailments, gives you confidence in your own looks and abilities. Without even thinking about it you'll be able to tailor your body scent to attract anyone you want, and repel anyone you don't. In short, it gives you everything you need to be appreciated. Everything you need to be a star.'

For years Polly had hoped to one day find a place where she belonged, to find a life away from the mundane, but in all her travels she'd never found anywhere. Until now. The truth of her situation hit her like a crashing wave. She had been looking for a place to fit in, and that's where she had been going wrong. She could fit in anywhere, as long as people were made to treat her how she should be treated. Looking at Chate and Maria, she knew they had everything she wanted for herself. Their charisma, their attraction... they were pure stars, and oozed pure happiness. Polly knew that if she followed their advice she would soon be on magazine covers, dazzling millions in cinemas across the world... knowing that her true destiny had been realised.

'Drink,' Chate urged.

Cautiously at first, and then hungrily as she realised how good it tasted, Polly drank from the jar. She expected the liquid to tingle in her mouth, but instead the experience was like drinking warm honey. As it slipped down her throat she felt its heat begin to radiate through her body, relaxing her. Whatever it was made of, Chate was right. It was a miracle cure. Every care, every itch, every cough; all ailments and worries just slipped away. Polly couldn't stop herself from smiling. She handed the jar to Chate then reached into her handbag, took out a vanity mirror and looked at her reflection. As she stared, her features began to change. Very subtly, very slowly, but they were definitely changing. Her white skin was getting browner, smoother. The bags under her eyes were sliding into nothingness, and she could almost feel her hair getting stronger and more radiant. For over a minute she watched her reflection, until she couldn't stop herself from bursting out laughing. Chate and Maria had been right. This truly was a miracle. In no time at all she had gone from being everyday Polly to looking like a million dollars.

She looked up at her new friends. 'Thank you,' was all she could think of to say.

'It's a pleasure,' said Chate. 'You deserve it.' And Polly knew that she did.

Chapter Fourteen.

It was almost midnight by the time the Doctor, Ben and Fletcher got to the LAPD forensics lab, a sparse-looking room with white-washed walls that were dotted with various memos in illegible scrawls. Its centre was dominated by several rows of plastic-coated examination benches. Spotlights, microscopes and other analysing equipment were arranged neatly on the benches and rows of cardboard boxes were stacked along the sides of the room. The place just oozed science, a field Fletcher had never felt particularly comfortable near.

The cop had managed to wave himself, the Doctor and Ben through security by explaining that he needed the two strangers to accompany him to identify a body, and had managed to get inside the lab and lock the door. The Doctor was carrying a small sports bag which had got him one or two suspicious looks from security, but no one had bothered to question him about it.

It seemed that no one here was in the mood for a row with Fletcher. For such a thug, he obviously had a considerable amount of influence in the place.

'OK,' Fletcher said, checking his watch. 'You've got one hour, then they'll start to get suspicious.'

'Wonderful,' the Doctor said, rubbing his hands together as he looked around the room. 'I think this place has everything I need.'

He walked over to a metal table lined with several microscopes and beckoned for Ben and Fletcher to join him.

He reached into the sports bag and took out the film canister, which he placed on the table next to a microscope. He then lifted off the canister's lid and, being careful not to let the whole reel fall out, unwound a small section of the film and positioned it under the microscope's lens.

'So what is it you're looking for?' Fletcher asked.

'Well, it's rather complicated,' the Doctor said, 'but I'm starting to suspect that something about the actual film stock itself is peculiar, and this is the best way to find out what's going on.' He looked through the microscope. 'Ah, interesting.'

'What is it, Doctor?' Ben asked. 'What do you see?'

'Well, nothing at the moment,' the Doctor admitted. 'Just a frame of exposed film emulsion. I wonder. .'

He lifted his head, reached around to the base of the microscope and flicked a switch. A small lamp on the front of the instrument came on, illuminating the film the Doctor was studying. At first Ben thought the film was reflecting the light from the lamp, but then he realised that the bright gold glow was emanating from the film itself.

The Doctor bent down to look. 'My, my, this is interesting.'

He turned the dial on the side of the microscope. 'When I decrease the magnification to the extent where I can see the picture on the frame, I see Mr Rochefort's character standing in a street. If I zoom in a little bit closer I can see the expression on his face moving, adjusting. And if I increase the magnification even more. .' The Doctor stood up and gestured for Ben to take a look through the microscope. He did so, and was amazed by what he saw.

He found he could see into the chemical structure of the film. The layers of emulsion, dust, fingerprint grease and celluloid should have been motionless, but instead they were frantically swirling about in a whirlwind of chaos. As if conducting an animalistic mating ritual, fire-coloured sparks in a multitude of different sizes were dancing in patterns that seemed almost co-ordinated. Tiny golden globules, like the tops of jellyfish, glowed and shimmered. It was as if the very atoms of the film were alive. Perhaps they were.

'What's it doing?' Ben asked. 'I'm no expert, but surely it shouldn't be wriggling like that.'

'No Ben,' the Doctor said. 'It shouldn't. If you look closely you'll see that the film is indeed just a piece of celluloid with exposing emulsion on top, but another layer of chemical has been pasted on top of that, and that's what you're seeing move.'

Ben stared through the microscope's lens at the dazzling light-show and found that just watching the patterns and absorbing the colours was one of the most relaxing experiences he'd ever known. He felt in harmony with what he was seeing and felt his cares slipping away. He tried to increase the magnification, tried to see deeper and deeper into the chemical structure of the film, but found that the microscope was already on it's maximum setting. He looked at the sparks, at the flickers, at the glowing perfection of the sight, and realised that this sort of thing was not meant to be seen by human eyes.

'It's beautiful,' he heard himself saying. The spectacle was so perfect, so enthralling, that he felt saddened that humanity would never be able to achieve such a marvellous state of existence. He thought of the suffering, the injustice and the nightmares around the world, and felt ashamed of being human.

All humanity did was cause pain, yet the sight he was witnessing now caused nothing but joy. He felt at ease, and knew that he wanted to be a part of what he was seeing.

'Let me see that,' Fletcher's voice said on the edge of Ben's consciousness.

'Come on, Ben,' the Doctor said. 'Let the detective take a look.'

Ben shook his head and continued to watch. Suddenly he was pulled away from the microscope and the white blandness of the forensics lab smashed back into his frame of vision like a colliding train.

'Oi!' he shouted angrily. 'What did you go and do that for?'

'What do you mean Ben?' the Doctor asked. 'You got a good look, didn't you?'

Ben shook his head, the memory of what he had seen starting to fade. 'I did, but... I could watch for ever, you know?

Let me look again. Magic, that's the only way I can describe it.

Magic.'

Fletcher barged his way over to the table. He slumped on to a stool and stared into the microscope. 'My God,' he said. 'What the hell is that?'

'What you're seeing,' the Doctor said, his voice grave, 'appears to be a life form of some sort. Tiny gelatinous creatures which clearly have a life of their own... unlike anything else I've seen before. In short, that film is alive.'

Fletcher began to laugh. 'Alive? Come on, Doctor. How can film be alive?'