'That memory could have been erased,' said Innocet.

The Doctor walked to one of the boarded-up windows. He yanked back the panelling and squinted out at the black earth and rock that pressed in from outside. 'You used to be able to see the well from here. That old crumbling well in the orchard. Do you remember, Innocet? And you told me that once, on the very day I was born from the Loom, you saw a stranger down there. You said she was leaning over the wel , trailing her long hair into the water. And the sunlight was dappling al green and brown over her robes, so that you couldn't really tell if she was there at all.

And you ran down to the orchard to find her, but when you reached the well, there was no one there. Only fruit bobbing on the water and a scent of roses.'

'The rose woman,' said Innocet. 'I hadn't forgotten. I imagined it was an omen for the good of the House. Perhaps I was wrong. I've never known who you really were.'

'I don't believe in omens. Omens are empty thunderclouds with no drop of rain. The portentous sound of people grasping at broken straws.' He reached to support himself on a shelf, and then thought better of it. 'What can I say, Innocet? I don't remember remember killing Quences, but we've just seen it happen. It was me, the first Doctor. But I never came back here. That poor old man loved me, I think. And he was a bully and a tyrant too. But I could never kill him.' killing Quences, but we've just seen it happen. It was me, the first Doctor. But I never came back here. That poor old man loved me, I think. And he was a bully and a tyrant too. But I could never kill him.'

'Then where were you?' she said.

'I wasn't here,' he replied. 'I was far, far away.'

'Where?'

He rapped his finger on the window pane in frustration. 'I can't remember. Sil y real y.'

Chris looked from one to the other. They were both staring at him. Piercing eyes that sheered away his thoughts and exposed the darkness underneath.

He knew who the woman by the well was. She had sat at the Door to the Past and she had the scent of roses.

129.

Chapter Twenty-two.

The Quickness of the Hand

Alarms were sounding across the Capitol. Through a window, Innocet could see the sky. She had forgotten its vastness. It frightened her, filled with black storm-laden clouds against which the Citadel rose, a mountain forested by towers, turrets and bridges al lit gold by the evening sun. This was more than her imagination, more than a vision. She was there - her mind was transported to another place and another time.

Suddenly the Doctor was hovering beside her. She made as no resistance he took her hand and turned her to look at the room.

The study was full of old-fashioned books and papers. At a desk sat the first Doctor. His white hair was swept back over his head. He wore a dark-green tunic. Perched on his nose was a pair of multifocal spectacles.

He grimaced sourly and put down the doc.u.ment he was studying. It bore the crest of the House of Lungbarrow - two silver-leaved trees, their branches reaching over to intertwine.

The Honourable Quencessetian.o.bayolocaturgrathadeyyilungbarrowmas 422nd Kithriarch to the House of Lungbarrow expects your attendance on his Deathday for the reading of his will and during his interment The word 'expects' had been crossed out and 'demands' had been scrawled next to it in black ink.

The first Doctor flicked on a plasma screen. It displayed a perfunctory message : Your application for duteous : Your application for duteous advancement has been considered and rejected. You wil continue in your current duties as Scrutationary advancement has been considered and rejected. You wil continue in your current duties as Scrutationary Archivist. Archivist. It was stamped by the Registrar of Continual Observation. It was stamped by the Registrar of Continual Observation.

He clasped his hands over his chest, apparently finding much amus.e.m.e.nt in the situation. 'It's a conspiracy. That much is clear,' he muttered, but his fierce eyes told a different story. 'We'll soon see who'l dance to your tune, eh?'

He was cackling quietly to himself when there was a heavy thump at the door.

He froze. Again, the thump.

Before he could even move, something as big as a coffin slid through the surface of the closed door. A battered, black box floating about waist-high above the carpet.

Astonished, he grasped his cane and approached the object.

It whirred and clicked at him. Little pulses of UV shifted on its surface.

The old Doctor tapped it gingerly with his cane. It whined plaintively like a lost animal. 'Shoo,' he said, 'whatever you are. Go on, you unpleasant object. Go away.'

Time pa.s.sed.

'Did this really happen to you?' said Innocet.

The Doctor was floating above the first Doctor's desk, trying to read his journal. 'Apparently so. Astral travel is certainly more accurate than your average reconstruction. Just don't let go of my hand.'

'What was that box thing?'

'Innocet! And you, a cla.s.sicist!' he scolded. 'Now shush. I think I detect a certain thickening of the plot.'

130.

Journal Entry. Otherstide Eve.

Sixth day since the box's intriguing arrival and it stil defies my attempts to a.n.a.lyse it. I am certain that the continuing security alarms across the Capitol are linked to its appearance. The Chancellery Guards are getting continuing security alarms across the Capitol are linked to its appearance. The Chancellery Guards are getting very jumpy. I gather that no one was even aware of the existence of most of the alarms that are sounding. Which very jumpy. I gather that no one was even aware of the existence of most of the alarms that are sounding. Which is why it took so long to turn them off! And now there is talk of a curfew. Natural y, there are no bulletins to explain is why it took so long to turn them off! And now there is talk of a curfew. Natural y, there are no bulletins to explain what is happening. what is happening.

They have searched my rooms twice, but the box, with its capacity to move faster than I can blink, continual y eludes them. It continues to follow me about, whining like a lost street-whelp, and today I believe it actually saved eludes them. It continues to follow me about, whining like a lost street-whelp, and today I believe it actually saved my life. A large piece of masonry fell from the renovation work on the Observation Tower. (I say 'fel ', but that may my life. A large piece of masonry fell from the renovation work on the Observation Tower. (I say 'fel ', but that may be the judgement of one who looks too kindly on the world.) For the briefest moment I saw the missile descend be the judgement of one who looks too kindly on the world.) For the briefest moment I saw the missile descend towards me, then there was a flash like lightning and it dissolved in the air above my head. towards me, then there was a flash like lightning and it dissolved in the air above my head.

The next time I saw the box, it had a skein of fine dust clinging to its surface. I conclude that despite my investigations, my 'visitor' will ultimately reveal its ident.i.ty or purpose to me in its own good time. investigations, my 'visitor' will ultimately reveal its ident.i.ty or purpose to me in its own good time.

Tomorrow is my name day, so felicitations all round no doubt. Also the old man's Deathday. He certainly chooses his moment. his moment.

' Arrogant as ever,' commented Innocet. Arrogant as ever,' commented Innocet.

'It's a family trait,' said the Doctor.

'I cannot imagine what you find so amusing. This whole business is completely gruesome.'

'Frightening,' he agreed. 'I was just admiring his potential.'

The old Doctor's rooms had been left in chaos, strewn with torn papers and books.

'Agency vandals!' he cursed as he sorted through the mess.

'Otherstide felicitations,' said the black-haired old villain behind him. Glospin, old Glospin, leaning heavily on his cane.

The old Doctor's chin went up in that familiar att.i.tude of defiance. 'What's this, Cousin? A nameday treat? Hmm?'

'I'm no Cousin of yours, remember?'

'How could I forget?'

'So I hope you weren't considering a visit to your former home.'

'Charmed, I'm sure.' The Doctor gathered up a fistful of papers. 'You come al this way, after all this time, when you must be due at the House yourself. What's the matter? Afraid of losing your inheritance!'

'My a.s.sumption as new Kithriarch has never been more a.s.sured,' said Glospin. 'Quences is senile. But don't entertain the delusion that anyone else wants you back. You have already been replaced.'

The Doctor gave an involuntary gasp of shock. 'Impossible...' He reached to his desk for support. 'And il egal too.'

'A little premature, I felt. But with a few chosen words in suitable places...' He smiled. 'And so I deemed it a courtesy to clarify a few outstanding matters first.' He took a doc.u.ment from his robe. 'Your Loom Certification.'

'What now?'

131.

'I was studying the doc.u.ment recently when I discovered some anomalies in your genetic codings.'

The Doctor s.n.a.t.c.hed away the doc.u.ment.

'That's all right, Wormhole,' said Glospin smoothly. 'It's just a copy. But if you look, you will see that your codes are entirely out of sympathy with the Lungbarrow Loom's genetic template.'

'Nonsense.' The Doctor's face sharpened with irritation as he studied the doc.u.ment. 'This is some childish attempt to complete my severance from the Family.'

'I undertook this purely out of my interests as a geneticist. But of course, due to the Family circ.u.mstances...'

'Insulting.'

'It's not entirely unheard of. People renew their regenerative cycles by jumping Looms, thus being reborn into new Families. Was that your plan, Wormhole? You certainly never belonged to Lungbarrow's Loom. Or do you come from further afield?' He was drawing closer, scrutinising the Doctor like some laboratory specimen. 'In short, exactly who or what are you?'

'Who?' the Doctor exploded. 'I don't know what petty loophole you've dug up, Glospin. But I am your Cousin. And don't think I'm not aware of your nasty Gallifreyan Allegiance proclivities. Or your involvement with the Intervention Agency.'

'Not exactly true,' said the persecutor, smiling. 'But I am ready to fascinate them with my discovery. . . for the correct remuneration.'

'Insanity!' The old Doctor shook his head. 'Haven't you had enough from me already?'

'No,' said Glospin. 'I want everything.'

'Out! Get out!' shouted the Doctor. He raised his stick and brought it down on Glospin. But his opponent was ready to give as he good as he got. The two old men were soon fighting like mongrels over an old bone.

The box came through the wal with a crash. Glospin screamed as a flare of light scorched his right arm.

He stared at the box, choking with pain. 'I'll see you ruined! Lungbarrow wil never take you back again!'

The box slid towards him, but he fell at the door and stumbled out into the Capitol.

'Lies.' The old Doctor was shaking. His cheek was bleeding where Glospin had clawed him. He swept his cane across the litter of damaged books. The strewn wreckage of a life's work. 'Lies.'

From the city outside came a new jangle of alarms. The box hovered by the open door, clicking excitedly.

'What are you?' demanded the Doctor.

In answer, the thing opened its lid. Inside sat a fierce, icy-white furnace. As the Doctor stared into it, his frightened expression turned to astonishment and wonder. His voice trembled. 'Of course, of course. Extraordinary. I understand. But why choose me?'

The watchers hovered above the rushing procession of time.

'Did Glospin talk to you about this?' The voice of the Doctor's sixth regeneration was drained and flat.

'Yes,' said Innocet.

'It's al lies, you know. Haven't you seen enough?'

'Whose lies?' she asked. 'Glospin's lies? Or yours?'

132.

For the attention of the Cardinal Prime, Prydon Chapterhouse My Lord Cardinal, My Lord Cardinal, I wish to draw your attention to a most contentious matter concerning the Prydonian House of Lungbarrow. I understand that the aforementioned House is allotted a statute quota of forty-five extant Cousins. I gather, understand that the aforementioned House is allotted a statute quota of forty-five extant Cousins. I gather, however, that this quota has recently been breached by the birth from that House's Loom of an uncertificated however, that this quota has recently been breached by the birth from that House's Loom of an uncertificated Cousin. Cousin.

I trust that you will share my concern.

The first Doctor had scrolled the letter tightly. He sealed it with the official Prydonian seal that he kept from his time in the Chapterhouse's Bureau of Possibility. A post he had left after disagreements about his overzealous political involvements.

Hooded in a black cloak, he pushed the scroll into the open beak of the great stone owl that guarded the Chapterhouse gate.

The alarms were still sounding as he made his way across the Citadel's broad edifice. The rainswept bridges and walkways were deserted. No one steps out on Otherstide night.

He carried one bag with him. A few belongings and keepsakes. The rest he left to the guards and the scavengers.

He hurried along the windy colonnades known as Gesyevva's Fingers and paused on the wide square where the ancient memorial to Omega stood. For a moment, he saw a shape flit across the burnt orange sky above the monument.

The TT embarkation port was on Under-level 15 of the Citadel. A group of watchful citizens was seated in the waiting zone. Several were busy trying far too hard not to be conspicuous.

'Agency guards,' mused the Doctor to himself.

He ducked into the dry dimension dockyard on the next level up. On a neural construction palette stood a gleaming new TARDIS ready for service installation. A technician's chart listed its immaculate specifications and latest safety precedent - a remote recall override system. 'A type fifty-three?' complained the Doctor. 'You're not getting me out in one of those new-fangled soul ess slip-abouts.'

In a far corner, surrounded by junk, was a dull grey, battered old TT booth with an obsolete Type 40 marker on the door.

The key was in the lock.

As the Doctor stepped inside the doomed TARDIS, he heard a fresh clamour of alarms from close by.