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`Where's Nyssa?' Vollmer swivelled round to see the Doctor shuffling towards them, his movements restricted by chains and manacles. 'Where is she?'

Doulton stood up, his uniform still dripping wet, his chin held high. 'We had to leave her behind,' the general said firmly.

'Beyond the rift, as you call it.'

'Why?'

The general shifted uncomfortably. 'When the time came to return she was nowhere to be found. I thought she had already left. Perhaps she tried to swim back to the surface, in which case she has probably drowned. Or she may still be on the Other Side.'

`Please,' the Doctor pleaded, let me take a diving suit and search for her.'

`No,' Doulton said flatly.

Ì would be willing to accompany the prisoner,' Vollmer added.

`You are becoming far too familiar with this prisoner, Sergeant. I notice the Doctor is not gagged as I requested before departing'

The sergeant blushed with embarrassment. I -'

`Quite frankly I couldn't care less about your explanation or what has happened to the Doctor's accomplice,' Doulton said. 'The life or death of such a worthless whelp is of no interest to me. My priority is preparing the gateway for Her Majesty's arrival. We shall go back down tomorrow at dawn.

All those who have yet to see the wonders of the Other Side shall report here by first light, when I shall handpick the next group to accompany me. Is that quite clear?'

`Yes, sir!' the soldiers shouted back in unison.

The general smiled. 'Capital. Then I shall retire for the night.

It has been a long day and we have much to do in the morning' He started up the hill to camp, but paused to throw one last comment at Vollmer. 'Sergeant, since you seem so eager to help, you can stand guard tonight alone. That will give the others a chance to rest'

`What was it like?' Johnson asked, his voice a low whisper in the darkness. 'Thorny?'

`Go to sleep, Nicholas. We've a long day ahead of us and I'm tired,' the other soldier replied wearily. 'You'll see for yourself in the morning'

`Did you see anyone you know on the Other Side?'

Hawthorne rolled over to face Johnson. 'Nicholas, I'm sorry but the general ordered us not to talk about what happened there'

`Since when did you pay much attention to orders?'

`You'll see,' Hawthorne replied. 'And when you do - you'll understand'

‘But Thorny, I can't just -'

`Leave it, Nicholas. I made the general a promise and I'm not going to break that, even for you. Now let me get some bloody sleep!' He rolled away, grumbling under his breath. Johnson lay in the darkness, frustrated and wide awake.

I'll never get to sleep now, he realised. Eventually the young soldier got out of bed and went in search of Vol mer.

Johnson had to talk to someone and the sergeant would probably be glad of the company. It was worth a try.

Chapter Seven

February 20, 1863

The man slumps backwards to the floor, his face haggard and wan. A graze above his left eyebrow and the dried blood on his knuckles give a mute testament to his or deals, as does the gr ey-green mud caked on hi s clothing. Beneath him the floor starts to swirl and ripple, as if about to swallow him up. He is dying and he knows it, all effort to stave off the inevitable draining from him now, the fight over, the cause lost. You look down on his kindly face and recognise him. You don't want to see him suffer any more but you know he must go on, he must fight back. You feel yourself reaching out to him, whispering soft words into his mind. You tell him he is needed, that he mustn't die. But you can feel him slipping away, his grasp on this life finally surrendering -

Nyssa wanted to open her eyes, not sure whether she was waking in a dream or from one. She felt the sun on her face, comforting and familiar. Under her hands was a path of stone, gently warmed by the heat from above. A scent caught her attention, a smell she had not experienced since - since Traken, she realised. Nyssa opened her eyes and sat up, finding