Dibber relaxed in the pilot's seat of the Nosferatu, Nosferatu, while the Doctor, Frobisher and Glitz discussed the datapad Mandell had given them. Dibber could have contributed to the discussion, and knew that the Doctor and Frobisher would listen to even his input. Glitz wouldn't, but that was just his way. while the Doctor, Frobisher and Glitz discussed the datapad Mandell had given them. Dibber could have contributed to the discussion, and knew that the Doctor and Frobisher would listen to even his input. Glitz wouldn't, but that was just his way.

Dibber didn't mind that Glitz looked on him as something of a burden. He learned more from the sidelines than he would from the middle of things, so he was content to let Glitz keep him there. To be honest, planning jobs wasn't very interesting to Dibber. He would much rather be out in the field, meeting interesting people, grabbing loot... A bit of fresh air and excitement was what life was all about. He'd learned that lesson long ago, back on Salostophus, before he'd even met Sabalom Glitz.

'This place is a fortress,' Frobisher was saying. 'We'd never get past the front door.'

'Nonsense, Frobie,' Glitz said. 'We just have to use our noggins, don't we? This calls for stealth and strategy, eh, Doctor?'

'This calls for Raffles himself.' The Doctor grimaced.

'Fortunately I can turn my hand to just about anything with equal grace.'

'You could help persuade the rest of them. Everybody knows you Time Lords can put the 'fluence on people.'

'Why on Earth would I want to do that?'

Glitz looked surprised. 'Doctor, these people we're dealing with are not as altruistic as young Dibber and myself. They're going to need a good reason to join in this little tickle.'

'You mean a profit,' the Doctor suggested archly.

'Well, yes. Not that it's just greed, mind you,' Glitz added hastily, 'but these people are professionals who expect to earn a decent living from their trade.'

'And do you have an idea of how to get round this?'

'Of course! We do a runner.'

The Doctor fixed him with a glare. 'You might be able to, but my TARDIS is in Mandell's hands.'

'And you're as mad as your tailor if you think he's going to return it. I know his sort, Doctor, and they're not on the level.'

'I know, but the logical place for them to take the TARDIS is this Thor Facility.' The Doctor was no slouch, Dibber noted.

He might be honest, but he could stand up for himself.

'That's a thought,' Glitz agreed.

'Besides. Whatever else this Mandell person may or may not be up to, there are certainly lives at stake. Everyone on this planet for a start.'

'So? We can get offworld.'

Dibber didn't see a problem with Glitz's attitude there either.

'No we can't, Glitz,' the Doctor said with finality. 'Or I can't, anyway. Besides, Mandell has thought of that.'

'Yeah,' Frobisher chipped in. 'If you try to fly the coop, there's probably a microscopic bomb in your neck that'll go off. Mandell looked like the sort of guy who'd do that.'

Glitz fingered his neck gently. 'Rubbish... He never even touched me.'

'He didn't have to. Look at this.' The Doctor held out the datapad so that Glitz and Dibber could see the last line.

'Kerlanogen on the surface of this datapad. Enough to kill in ten days, without the antidote. Antidote to be exchanged for the cylinder.'

Glitz paled, and Dibber was relieved that he'd stayed away from the pad. 'You mean we...?'

'Not we, we, Glitz. Just you. Kerlanogen doesn't affect Time Lords, mesomorphs like Frobisher don't have stable DNA for it to latch on to, and Dibber never touched the pad.' Glitz. Just you. Kerlanogen doesn't affect Time Lords, mesomorphs like Frobisher don't have stable DNA for it to latch on to, and Dibber never touched the pad.'

Glitz looked like he'd seen a ghost - probably his own.

'You're a doctor - you could whip up an antidote in no time, right?'

The Doctor smiled disarmingly. 'Easily.' Glitz perked up. 'In the TARDIS' lab. I rather think you're stuck with us, Glitz.'

Dibber tried not to laugh. He was concerned, of course, but he knew the Doctor was too honest to let Glitz die. If it had been anyone else, Dibber would have a gun at his head already, but the Doctor had earned some leniency back on Ravolox. He wasn't that bad for an honest bloke.

The man with the thinning white hair and lined, pugnacious face went into the taxi garage through the main bay. Kala Mandell rested her chin on the heels of her hands, and tried to look inconspicuous as she watched him enter. He looked pretty fit for a man who must be at least seventy. Probably a spectrox user, she noted. That in itself wasn't a crime, but spectrox was now so rare that a taxi mechanic being able to afford a dose was definitely grounds for suspicion.

Most of the women in Vandor Prime's police force had their hair cut short, but Kala simply tied her locks in a bun at the back of her head while on duty. That took her to the edge of looking severe and matronly, but she was just young and pretty enough not to cross over that line. Sitting at this street-corner breakfast stand fifty levels above the ground, she'd already had to arrest two marks who thought she would turn tricks for them. Maybe her looks were on the wrong side of the line after all, she reflected.

The man had disappeared inside, and Kala thought about getting a warrant for search and seizure. In the case of anyone else who was displaying more wealth than they could account for, she wouldn't hesitate. Now, however, she definitely didn't want to tip her hand too early. Monty Kast had been a big fish a few years back, and Kala had never believed that such people ever truly reformed or retired.

If he was indeed back in the criminal business, then it was likely to be a wide-ranging scheme, and when she took him down, she wanted to take the whole thing down. That way she'd make Captain for sure. Nic would be proud, too.

The other cops on her shift tended to live with people with exciting lives - other cops, paramedics, pilots... Kala didn't mind that her man was a civil servant, because at least it meant that most days he was there when she got home. He never complained about the odd hours she worked. He had always said that he didn't mind her job, since her exploits would give them some stories to tell the kids one day. Now she'd learnt she was pregnant at last, that old joke actually meant something.

Kala wasn't sure all her stories would be suitable for a toddler's bedtime. How was she supposed to tell her young daughter (Kala was convinced the baby would be a girl, though the pregnancy was only three weeks along - too early to tell) that her mother had killed several people, or been mistaken for a prostitute while staking out certain areas of the city? That was worst down in Methuselah Town, where any woman under sixty was assumed to be available in some form, but it could happen anywhere. Of course, the fact that she used to pose as one on the Vice detail did make those mistakes more likely.

No, she thought to her unborn baby, I'll tell you the stories like this one. The stories of patient waiting and watching, using my brain. And no doubt you'd be bored stupid and want to hear about shoot-outs and flier chases in exciting detail. She couldn't help but smile, in the process getting a funny look from a customer opposite. He probably thought she was on vrax or something, she realised, and that made her want to laugh. She managed to suppress the impulse.

Think about Monty, she reminded herself, think about the job. Most especially, think about the promotion you're going to get when you wrap up the case.

'I feel feint,' Glitz complained as the Nosferatu Nosferatu descended towards Methuselah Town. 'Are you sure that poison takes a week?' descended towards Methuselah Town. 'Are you sure that poison takes a week?'

'Absolutely positive,' the Doctor reassured him. 'Well get you seen to in plenty of time.'

'Yer... right,' Glitz said uncertainly. 'I'll just go and wash my hands, eh? Maybe help slow the progress?'

'Anything's possible,' the Doctor agreed solemnly. Glitz hurried out of the crew room towards a washroom. Given how nervous he looked, Frobisher doubted he'd just be washing up.

'So, Doc,' Frobisher said, 'when are you going to tell him?'

'Tell him what?'

'That you slipped the antidote into his drink when he wasn't looking.'

'Didn't I mention that?' the Doctor asked with wildly exaggerated innocence. He tutted. 'It must be my age.

Memory's the first thing to go, isn't that what they say?'

Frobisher was hardly complaining. He'd only just met Glitz, but could tell at once that he was the sort of person who was going to grate on him. Or vice versa, which might be more fun. All things considered, Frobisher would rather be back in his room listening to Benny Goodman.

'What about you, Dibber?' asked the Doctor. 'Are you going to take the weight off our friend's mind?'

Dibber grinned. He'd guessed right - the Doctor wouldn't let Glitz die.

'Reckon not, Doc - not yet, anyway. Makes a change for him to sweat a bit.'

Glitz returned a few moments later, looking a little healthier. 'There you are, Doctor, I feel better already.'

'Good thinking, that, Glitz,' the Doctor said approvingly.

'Exactly what I would have done.'

Glitz perked up at that, reassured by the Doctor's confidence. Frobisher had to admire the Doctor's strategy here; it kept Glitz from running, but wouldn't hurt him.

Likewise, his mate Dibber was in on the trick so wouldn't be hustling the Doctor. Frobisher liked that arrangement.

'Now, why exactly are we landing here instead of the spaceport?'

'You said it yourself, Doctor,' Glitz answered. 'That Mandell's about as trustworthy as a tabloid editor. I'll feel a lot safer if we aren't where he's expecting us to be.'

The Doctor rose. 'You know, my appreciation for your talents grows, Glitz.'

Glitz shook his head with blatantly false modesty. 'I have to be careful, don't I? In my line of work if you don't watch your step, you're for the high jump, aren't you?' That, Frobisher had to agree, was certainly true.

'Then perhaps a career change...?' the Doctor interrupted.

Frobisher was glad, already tired of the self-promotion. 'But first, we ought to get in touch with these confederates of yours as soon as possible. I imagine you know where we can find them.'

The Thornton's Thornton's bridge had proved to be ruined, the consoles and inspection panels smashed - some from the inside, others by vandalism from without. By the time Lambert and her team reached the engineering hall, they had started to find a few bodies. bridge had proved to be ruined, the consoles and inspection panels smashed - some from the inside, others by vandalism from without. By the time Lambert and her team reached the engineering hall, they had started to find a few bodies.

They were all frozen into grotesque sculptures by the absolute cold, but that was not what had killed them. They were beaten, or shot, some others asphyxiated by the halon system. There were no fallen attackers, however.

It was downright creepy, Lambert thought. Man had been telling tales of ghost ships since the first reed raft was put in the water, and they had taken those tales with them to the stars. None of the people welded to the walls and floor of the chamber would ever move again, but the lights from the team's helmets animated them just enough to make Lambert want to run back to the Cobb. Cobb.

It was the ice in their eyes, she knew deep down. It was reflecting the light as little pinpoints that followed them around the room. She tried to ignore it, knowing that it was impossible - humankind had a predilection to let itself be unnerved by the presence of its own dead.

She cast her beam around engineering, noticing that there was damage to the control systems, and all the lockers had been emptied of tools and protective clothing. That was odd, she thought, then turned to the reactor core. She stopped in her tracks.

The reactor core, which should have made the engineering section uncomfortably warm, was just a dark hole in the blackness. Forcing herself to remember why she came aboard, she nudged the helmet's microphone switch with her chin. 'Lambert to Cobb.' Cobb.'

'Go ahead,' Captain Franke's voice returned.

'We've reached the engineering section. The crew are all dead or missing. I saw some heat-flash shadows, so I expect the missing ones have been vaped. This was definitely no accident, sir. The reactor core is gone.'

'What? Totally destroyed?'

'No, sir, I mean it's gone.' gone.' She took a deep breath, knowing how silly this was going to sound. 'Somebody has stolen it.' She took a deep breath, knowing how silly this was going to sound. 'Somebody has stolen it.'

Chapter Six.

They called it Methuselah Town partly because it hadn't changed a bit in living memory, and partly because the vast majority of its populace seemed to be grimy drifters on the far side of middle age.

Being young, Dibber didn't like it much. True, it was just the sort of place where someone with a loose attitude to the law could best get along undisturbed, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Every city on every planet had a similar area. Dibber had left Salostophus with Glitz to see the galaxy and make a bit of profit on the side. If he'd wanted to spend his life in rancid slums, he could have stayed at home.

Glitz, on the other hand, was in his element here. He was like a zoo animal returned to the wild.

The Nosferatu Nosferatu had set down in a disused factory, whose roof had long since collapsed, and Glitz was rubbing his hands with anticipation as he followed the others out of the ship. He seemed to have cheered up a bit, Dibber noticed. It was probably the prospect of trying to win round their old mates. had set down in a disused factory, whose roof had long since collapsed, and Glitz was rubbing his hands with anticipation as he followed the others out of the ship. He seemed to have cheered up a bit, Dibber noticed. It was probably the prospect of trying to win round their old mates.

'Excellent work, lad,' Glitz said of the landing. 'If memory serves, Monty lives not a million miles from this friendly lay-by.'