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"Time is changing," said the older Pekkary.

The oldest Pekkary of all nodded.

The inevitable was inescapable. Captain Pekkary, first son of the House of Fordfarding, took the insect-head helmet and lowered it over his own head.

The Guard Captain, now just the oldest Pekkary, was stripped of his rank. Last survivor of the Chronaut crew and the Phazel slaves, he observed the ritual with no betrayal of emotion.

The new Captain of the Processes' guards angled and twisted as a weight surged and buried his mind. His hands shaped like claws. He let out a cry, but it emerged as a harsh twittering of pain.

He rose to strike out and destroy his waiting predecessor. But he was alone on the street, seeing with a multitude of eyes where there had been just one.

He listened to the hateful hissing instructions in his head and understood his orders.

The fog had started to thin in the street below the attic.

The Doctor was moving back and forth, candle in one hand, sweeping his Suyryte rod before him like a metal detector. It resembled a ritualistic dance, Ace decided. Or hoovering by moonlight. Occasionally, he turned in a complete circle before resuming his progress. She had never seen him so fiercely intent.

The Phazels watched, anxiously bemused, from the side of the Street.

"If Pekkary is gone," called Amnoni, "then it cannot be long before we are all summoned."

"I am hurrying!" the Doctor retorted. "You seem to think I'm some sort of cure-all. I can't emerge casting nostrums to all and sundry."

"We're sorry," said Chesperl.

"Bang flash, everything's all right," he went on.

Ace slipped down and joined the Doctor. "They're wound up," she said.

"I thought Gallifreyans were supposed to be telepathic."

"Don't you know? You're a Time Lord too."

His voice sank to an irritated whisper. "They're not Time Lords. Not yet. As far as I'm concerned, they're ancient history."

Ace went into am-dram mode. "The Old Time. The Time of Chaos!" she proclaimed to the back of the stalls.

He shushed her violently. "Once the Time Lords came to power, many things started to decline. It was a messy business."

She grinned. "Better watch your anachronisms for a change, Professor."

"Exactly. Even visiting Gallifreyan history is strictly forbidden." He did a swift turn, forcing her to jump the sweeping rod. "We have an appointment to keep, remember?"

"Yeah . . ." She dodged the rod again. "I don't know what you're doing though. I still think my trap would have worked. She nodded at the rod. "What is this anyway?"

"Tell you later," he said bluntly.

It's to do with the TARDIS, she thought and went to sit next to Shonnzi.

Vael waited for the new Guard Captain to pass into the mist. It was moving towards the area where he'd left Shonnzi. His head twitched with desperation. The summoning would come soon. He needed new allies before they all went under.

There was no movement from the Watch Tower. The younger Process was biding its time. But the older monster . . .

He felt the ground under him tremble. Then silence.

It was no good confronting the others. He didn't dare show his face.

Only one of them had a mind open enough to hear him. But he had to make the most of his resources, even if it did mean talking to the brat.

Vael concentrated his thoughts. They pooled into one cry for attention.

"Shonnzi!"

For a moment, Shonnzi didn't seem to notice Ace.

Then he looked up, startled. He smiled quickly and said, "Always use the available resources, that's what he used to tell me."

"That was the dreams, was it?" she said and watched the Doctor's sweeping dance. His shadow, thrown up by the candle, loomed into the mist until it seemed to fill the night.

"So he's trying for the one resource we all missed. That's what I told him to look for. The daft old goik still doesn't remember everything."

She looked sternly at Shonnzi. "You're not supposed to know about all that."

He lowered his voice. "Oh, I don't," he said. "TARDISes and Time Lords, miss? No, never heard of them."

Ace grinned. "No.