A horse with arms.

A horse with arms and huge eyes.

The eyes stared at her, the arms moved and touched a keyboard slung around the huge thing's neck.

A voice spoke.

'I'm sorry, but you must come with us. You are a sample.'

From the corner of her eye, Rowenna saw that Hynes had aimed a gun at her.

turning, turning, the gun in his hand, the gun Rowenna did the only thing she could. The only thing left to her right now.

She screamed.

BOOK TWO.

When Mauvril returned to the cell it was dark. The lights in the cell had been dimmed, too, but she knew that the alien could see her. He didn't need night eyes. see her. He didn't need night eyes.

She opened her own night eyes, watched his breathing for a while.

'You can hear me, can't you, Doctor?' she asked.

There was no reply.

If he had replied, maybe she wouldn't have been able to start telling her story.

Maybe he knew that. Maybe that was why he stayed silent.

Anyway, she began.

'I'm not pretending that everything before the invasion was perfect, that ours was an ideal word. You know as well as I do that there isn't such a thing. For instance, in the place where I lived, children were regarded as property. You were owned that there isn't such a thing. For instance, in the place where I lived, children were regarded as property. You were owned by your parents, and if they died before you came of age, you were put up on the open market just like their house, their by your parents, and if they died before you came of age, you were put up on the open market just like their house, their land and their clothing. It wasn't a nice custom. land and their clothing. It wasn't a nice custom.

'When my parents died, my elder brother Pakip bought me to work on his farm. It nearly bankrupted him, but he was the sort of person who thought of it as a family duty. The good sort, you know. He didn't treat me badly, but of course he had to sort of person who thought of it as a family duty. The good sort, you know. He didn't treat me badly, but of course he had to make me work, to justify his investment. I hated it. I was only a kid soft-skinned, my hooves only half formed and I still make me work, to justify his investment. I hated it. I was only a kid soft-skinned, my hooves only half formed and I still had the silly romanticism of childhood: I yearned for the city, Tafalis, or better still our distant capital, Noctutis. I had the had the silly romanticism of childhood: I yearned for the city, Tafalis, or better still our distant capital, Noctutis. I had the idea that my life would have been better if an offworlder had bought me, instead of sensible old Pakip. I imagined dancing idea that my life would have been better if an offworlder had bought me, instead of sensible old Pakip. I imagined dancing for some two-eyed, pink skinned alien, imagined waiting on her table, imagined being given plastic and gold and glittering for some two-eyed, pink skinned alien, imagined waiting on her table, imagined being given plastic and gold and glittering electronics. I imagined being taken into space, seeing the world from above, travelling between the stars. electronics. I imagined being taken into space, seeing the world from above, travelling between the stars.

'I think I knew better, really. I knew in my heart that my brother had done the best thing, buying me before the offworlders could do it. I was just old enough to know that if my dreams came true, they might turn out to be nightmares in disguise, and then there would be no going back. disguise, and then there would be no going back.

'I didn't know that the nightmares were going to come visiting.

'Still, I didn't like that farm. Grass, grass, and more grass, fields and fields and fields of the tall wavy green stuff. Pakip grew it fresh for the restaurants in Tafalis. I had to get up before sunrise, so that I could harvest the grass in the old way, grew it fresh for the restaurants in Tafalis. I had to get up before sunrise, so that I could harvest the grass in the old way, soft, cold, with the dew on it. Pakip even made me use the old ivory scythes: they crushed where they cut, he said, and the soft, cold, with the dew on it. Pakip even made me use the old ivory scythes: they crushed where they cut, he said, and the grass grew back in a better way. But they were hard work! I would bale the grass at first light, roll it in the canvas, damp grass grew back in a better way. But they were hard work! I would bale the grass at first light, roll it in the canvas, damp and cool to keep it fresh, and load it on the cart. Then Pakip would yoke himself to the cart and trot off to the market at and cool to keep it fresh, and load it on the cart. Then Pakip would yoke himself to the cart and trot off to the market at Tafalis, his hooves clopping on the road, while I watched the farm, drove the insects and flying lizards from the grass, Tafalis, his hooves clopping on the road, while I watched the farm, drove the insects and flying lizards from the grass, mended gates, planted where Pakip had ploughed the previous day. Sometimes, if it rained, or if there was an evening dew, mended gates, planted where Pakip had ploughed the previous day. Sometimes, if it rained, or if there was an evening dew, we would do a second harvest just after sunset, and I would go to the night market with Pakip. We got better prices then. we would do a second harvest just after sunset, and I would go to the night market with Pakip. We got better prices then.

And I met the offworlders. All shapes, all colours. They seemed extraordinary: it must be hard for you to understand, with all your experience of the alien, what it was like for a little quadruped from a little grassy place on a big grassy planet to go all your experience of the alien, what it was like for a little quadruped from a little grassy place on a big grassy planet to go to the city and see people with two legs, or six, or external skeletons. Even more seductive was the babble of alien sound to the city and see people with two legs, or six, or external skeletons. Even more seductive was the babble of alien sound and flicker of alien light, the powerful, glittering technology of the offworlders. It blinded me. It blinded most of us, I think. and flicker of alien light, the powerful, glittering technology of the offworlders. It blinded me. It blinded most of us, I think.

'There was an Earth Reptile called Morkal, or Menarc, or something like that. I remember being particularly impressed by him, his solemn bearing, his strange, lizardlike skin, the glowing third eye in his forehead. He used to talk to my brother by him, his solemn bearing, his strange, lizardlike skin, the glowing third eye in his forehead. He used to talk to my brother at a red plastic table in the open-air restaurant by the market. I would listen, not understanding very much of it. The alien at a red plastic table in the open-air restaurant by the market. I would listen, not understanding very much of it. The alien was sophisticated, some kind of diplomat I think; he tended to talk in abstractions, in abbreviations, in evasions. was sophisticated, some kind of diplomat I think; he tended to talk in abstractions, in abbreviations, in evasions.

'But I remember the last time we saw him. He had a glass full of that black, fizzy stuff that Earth people called cola, but he wasn't drinking it: he was looking down at the flat red surface of the table, almost as if he was ashamed. he wasn't drinking it: he was looking down at the flat red surface of the table, almost as if he was ashamed.

'"They are serious, Pakip," he said. "Deadly serious. You should leave, if you can."

'I remember being afraid.

'But Pakip didn't leave, couldn't leave. He had his wife, Larnaj, and their new child, who was still in her pouch. And he had the farm. Or perhaps he didn't quite believe the Earth Reptiles melodramatic warning, didn't quite think that things like had the farm. Or perhaps he didn't quite believe the Earth Reptiles melodramatic warning, didn't quite think that things like that could be part of the real world. I don't know. that could be part of the real world. I don't know.

'But I know he screamed when we saw the lights.'

'I was with Pakip one evening, taking our harvest to Tafalis, when they appeared above the city, drowning its glitter in a cold blue-white glare. All the roofs and streets became visible, and I could even see tiny figures staring upward, Tractite cold blue-white glare. All the roofs and streets became visible, and I could even see tiny figures staring upward, Tractite and alien alike frozen in that strange, shadowless illumination. Sometimes I catch myself thinking that the city is still there, and alien alike frozen in that strange, shadowless illumination. Sometimes I catch myself thinking that the city is still there, Tafalis, the Tafalis I knew, fossilised in time like a tiny animal caught in the sap of a tree don't tell me, I know. It's another Tafalis, the Tafalis I knew, fossilised in time like a tiny animal caught in the sap of a tree don't tell me, I know. It's another romantic dream. The lure of the alien, the lure of the past that never was perhaps we don't grow up, after all. romantic dream. The lure of the alien, the lure of the past that never was perhaps we don't grow up, after all.

'Pakip, of course practical Pakip I think he knew in that instant, on the night road to Tafalis among the usual smell of grass, that his world had ended. But he was trying to kid himself that his little piece of the world would somehow survive. of grass, that his world had ended. But he was trying to kid himself that his little piece of the world would somehow survive.

People always do, don't they? Even the most practical ones.

'I didn't know anything, of course. I didn't think about the Earth Reptile's warning at that moment. I remember thinking

you'll laugh at this I remember thinking how silly my brother was being, because the lights were obviously only some big alien spaceship. I looked at the huge, square, moon-bright thing, almost as big as the city itself. I saw the clouds boiling big alien spaceship. I looked at the huge, square, moon-bright thing, almost as big as the city itself. I saw the clouds boiling away around it, and I thought of all the aliens on the ship, and how they'd probably want to eat our grass, and the price away around it, and I thought of all the aliens on the ship, and how they'd probably want to eat our grass, and the price would go up. I thought my brother should be dancing for joy. Instead, he kneeled on his forelegs, shrugging off the yoke. As would go up. I thought my brother should be dancing for joy. Instead, he kneeled on his forelegs, shrugging off the yoke. As I stared at him in confusion, he wrenched the tack free from both of us, breaking the precious leather, and pushed me down I stared at him in confusion, he wrenched the tack free from both of us, breaking the precious leather, and pushed me down on my knees, so that the yoke fell away. The cart tipped sideways with a groan of wood, spilling some of its load. The long on my knees, so that the yoke fell away. The cart tipped sideways with a groan of wood, spilling some of its load. The long bundles of grass rattled as they rolled across the stone. bundles of grass rattled as they rolled across the stone.

'Automatically, I turned to pick them up, but Pakip kicked my flank with his foreleg.

'"Mauvril!" he shouted at me. "Run!"

'"But the cart " I began. I could scarcely believe the damage my brother had done to the leather tack. It would take days to repair, and it would never be as good again. days to repair, and it would never be as good again.

'But Pakip wasn't listening to my objections. He just grabbed my shoulder and pulled me around, forcing me into a trot.

Our hooves clattered on the road. Behind us, the lights grew brighter. There was a tension in the air, like the feeling before a thunderstorm. I could even hear a distant booming, not unlike thunder. a thunderstorm. I could even hear a distant booming, not unlike thunder.

'Displaced air, I thought. The ship materialised in the upper atmosphere. The Earth Reptile had talked about things like that. that.

'There was a flicker of light behind us, and Pakip broke into a canter, then a gallop. I stared after him for a moment, still confused. still confused.

'"Run!" he shouted again.

'Pakip was well ahead of me now, moving at full gallop across the fields, head down, careless of the damage to the precious crops. I started after him, infected by his panic, lowering my own head into the green-smelling swathe he had made through the eating-grass. Cold drops of dew spattered my legs and flanks. The black mass of the forest rose to my left as I through the eating-grass. Cold drops of dew spattered my legs and flanks. The black mass of the forest rose to my left as I galloped, cutting off my view of the alien ship. I could hear Larnaj shouting from the farmhouse. I imagined her big white galloped, cutting off my view of the alien ship. I could hear Larnaj shouting from the farmhouse. I imagined her big white cloak flapping in panic in the strange light, the copper thread on her old coat glittering, the baby wriggling in its pouch, cloak flapping in panic in the strange light, the copper thread on her old coat glittering, the baby wriggling in its pouch, infected by its mother's fear. infected by its mother's fear.

'"The cellar!" Pakip's voice, clear and authoritative. "Get in the cellar! Now!"

'I could see hunt ahead, galloping across the courtyard of the farmhouse, his hide shiny with sweat, his tail high, his hooves raising the dust. The light was brighter still, almost as bright as day, and, although it was hard to tell with my night hooves raising the dust. The light was brighter still, almost as bright as day, and, although it was hard to tell with my night eyes, it seemed to have gained a blue quality. The sky itself was brightening, as if dawn were coming. The stones of the eyes, it seemed to have gained a blue quality. The sky itself was brightening, as if dawn were coming. The stones of the courtyard glowed as if they were burning. I slowed to a canter, shutting my night eyes and opening my colour eyes, so that I courtyard glowed as if they were burning. I slowed to a canter, shutting my night eyes and opening my colour eyes, so that I could see more clearly. could see more clearly.

'The light was blue: an eerie, unnatural blue.

'In the doorway of the house, Pakip looked over his shoulder, nostrils flaring with panic, and screamed back to me, "Mauvril! Get under cover!"

'I hesitated, motionless in the blurry edge of the forest's shadow, not sure what to do.

'My indecision saved my life. Suddenly the farmhouse burnt white, blinding me for a moment. I could feel the reflected heat on my skin, hotter than sunlight. I looked behind me, was dazzled by the sky behind the thick overhang of the forest. An heat on my skin, hotter than sunlight. I looked behind me, was dazzled by the sky behind the thick overhang of the forest. An instinct older than civilisation took over, and I dived for the cover of the trees. instinct older than civilisation took over, and I dived for the cover of the trees.

'Behind me, I heard Pakip screaming as he burnt in the light, but I knew there was nothing I could do.'

Mauvril hesitated, realised that the Doctor's eyes were closed again.

'Do you know what it's like, Doctor? To watch them die, to hear them die, and know that there's nothing you can do to stop it?' stop it?'

For a long time the Doctor said nothing. Then his mouth opened slowly and a hiss of breath came out.

'Yes,' he said. 'I know what it's like.'

His eyes opened. A tear spilled out on to one of his cheeks, and slowly trickled across the desiccated skin.

CHAPTER 6.

Jo Grant woke up with the feeling that something was wrong. She lay in the darkness for a moment, listening, hearing nothing but her own breathing and the faint pulse of blood in her ears.

'You'll have to help me, Jo,' the Doctor had said.

Yes. That was it. The Doctor had been talking in her dreams again. The same old, familiar, fatherly voice. The same old, familiar, fatherly demands.

'You'll have to help me.' And the TARDIS in the background, and some sort of mist.

Go away, Doctor. It was all a long time ago. Another Jo. Another universe.

Beep.

Jo jumped, sat up in the bed.

For a moment, nothing. Then the sound was repeated: a faint, unmistakably electronic beeping. She sighed. Matthew was still awake in his room, playing computer games. Again. Again. She opened her eyes, glanced at the brass alarm clock on the bedside table by the lamp. It was ten past one in the morning. She opened her eyes, glanced at the brass alarm clock on the bedside table by the lamp. It was ten past one in the morning.

He shouldn't, thought Jo. He really shouldn't. He's got school tomorrow.

She reached out for the bedside lamp, leaning across the cold sheets that she'd probably always think of as Cliffs side of the bed. She fumbled for the switch, awkwardly positioned underneath the old-fashioned cloth shade. It clunked across and a warm brown light filled the room, illuminating the familiar stained-oak panelling of the wardrobe opposite the end of the bed, the white wicker laundry basket, the Treasure Island Treasure Island clothes chest with its brass decorations and huge fake lock. clothes chest with its brass decorations and huge fake lock.

'Your room looks like a throwback to the seventies, Mum,' Matthew had said to her the other week. A new sophisticated phrase from his new sophisticated school, she supposed. But he was right. Purple carpet. Sea-blue walls. Grapefruit-yellow ceiling. She really ought to redecorate it. She'd done the rest of the house not long after Cliff had left, but she hadn't been able to bear the thought of changing this room too much. There was even a pair of white moon boots, thick with dust, stuffed into the narrow gap between the wardrobe and the wall. She hadn't worn them for perhaps twenty years.

Jo lay back, propping herself up against the headboard. She closed her eyes, felt herself drifting back to sleep.

'You'll have to help me '

Beep. Bip-bip-bip-beeeep.

Reluctantly, Jo opened her eyes again; then, even more reluctantly, she got out of the bed. She padded across the room, pulled an old pink dressing gown off its hook on the door, stuffed her feet into some slippers. In the corridor, she could see a faint, changing glow of coloured light under Matthew's door. She heard a click, a loud whisper, then silence.

She tapped gently on the door.

No reply.

'Matthew! I know you're playing with that machine again. I want you to go to bed. Now.'

'Sorry, Mum.'

He didn't sound sorry, and Jo could still see the coloured light.

She opened the door, saw her son in his dressing gown, sitting cross-legged in front of the computer. On the screen, huge, grey, saucer-shaped spaceships floated over a stylised burning city. The words GAME ON HOLD flickered in red in the middle of the screen.

'Off,' she said firmly. 'Now.'

'But I've nearly reached the highest kill rate ever!' Matthew looked up at her, bright-eyed. His hair was golden blond, just the colour hers had been at that age. 'Please! Just five minutes!'

Jo looked at the screen again. She was reluctant to turn the machine off herself: an eleven-year-old was entitled to a certain amount of dignity. And she also knew how addictive computer games were. If she turned it off, and Matthew lost his chance at the highest kill rate, it was quite possible he'd start all over again as soon as she was gone.

'It's ten past one,' she said gently. 'Please, Matthew. You're going to be so tired in the morning. Save the game and finish it tomorrow.'

Matthew hesitated, then reached out and fiddled with a mouse on its mat on the floor. The screen blanked, and the words GAME SAVED appeared in green. Slowly, reluctantly, his hand reached out and turned the machine off.

Jo reached down and ruffled Matthew's hair. 'If you had real space invaders to deal with, you'd have a lot more than a kill rate to worry about,' she said.

Matthew looked up, grinned at her. 'So you keep telling me, Mum.' A pause. 'How many invaders did you stop, really?'

Jo smiled. 'Don't start that again! Half of it's classified '

' and the other half I wouldn't believe. I know, I know.' Matthew stood up. 'You know, sometimes I wish I had a normal mum.'

He was still smiling, but Jo could sense the serious undertone in his words. A normal mum wouldn't wake up in the middle of the night with her heart beating double time because she'd been dreaming of a time-travelling alien who needed her help. A normal mum wouldn't think that the best part of her life, the only important part of her life, had happened more than twenty years ago, and that everything that had happened since was a sort of afterthought. First she'd saved the universe with the Doctor; then she'd saved the world with Cliff; now she was raising her son on her own in a two-bedroom house in Hackney with two jobs and a bedroom that needed decorating and a roof that needed retiling and hadn't life been supposed to get better better?

Jo became aware that Matthew was still looking at her, a solemn expression on his small, round face.

'Sometimes I wish you had a normal mum, too,' she said. Then she bent down and kissed him. 'You be up on time in the morning, OK?'

Matthew nodded.

Jo retreated to the landing, waited until she heard the sound of Matthew getting into the bed, until she saw the remaining light under his door go dark. She thought about going back to bed, but she was thoroughly awake now, and really felt like a cup of tea. She shuffled downstairs, her fluffy slippers flopping on the beige carpet.

In the kitchen, the neon strip light flickered into life, dazzling her. When it had settled down, Jo saw that the blinds were still up over the double windows, revealing black squares of night. Irritably, she pulled them down, trying to remember whether she'd told Matthew to do it, and he'd forgotten, or whether she'd just forgotten about it altogether.

She put the kettle on and found a brown box of tea bags. She smiled to herself, remembering the Doctor and his Assam and Darjeeling. Then Cliff: rosehip, camomile, nettle, mate. Now, on her own, she bought Sainsbury's own in tea-bags, like everyone else. The latest bags were triangular, for some reason. She put one in a chipped and none-too-clean blue mug labelled SAVE THE WHALE, and wondered if the entire course of her life was reflected by the tea she drank. The Doctor would have been amused by that theory, she decided. He would have given her one of his I-know-better grins and told her it was interesting. Cliff would have smiled vaguely and started talking about something more important. But it was true, nonetheless. Both of them had told Jo what tea she had to drink. Now she had a free choice, and she bought the cheapest, the first off the shelf.