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‘I’m not psychic,’ protested the Indian from inside the blanket. ‘It’s just the acid. I came to London because I’ve finished university and I want to see the world, you know, get some experience. Maybe make the East, if I get together enough bread.’

‘There were bad vibes before the lysergide,’ said the Doctor.

‘Look,’ said Cris, putting his head out of the blanket. ‘If I could read people’s minds, I’d go and work on the stock market and make a fortune.’

‘Your psychic ability is largely dormant. Just the tip of the iceberg is showing. Molly, on the other hand…’

‘She’s split,’ said Cris. ‘Maybe gone back to her parents’ place in Birmingham.’

‘Mmm.’ The Doctor lay down on the bed with his arms folded behind his head. ‘Why are you taking so much LSD?’

‘To expand my mind, man. Lizzie says it’s a skillful means, a way to get closer to enlightenment.’

‘No. That’s why the others are taking it.’ There was a curious tension in the man’s voice, as though he were forcing himself to be patient. ‘Why are you taking it?’

‘You couldn’t understand. What’ve you got in common with us?’

‘I have no home,’ said the Doctor. ‘I wander from place to place.’

‘Yeah?’ Cris smiled. ‘You made the East?’

‘Repeatedly. I dropped out a long, long time ago, Cris. Now I’m looking for answers.’

‘Yeah, aren’t we all.’

‘I need the answers to a very specific set of questions. I think you have those answers.’

Cris rubbed his forehead with his thumbs, agitatedly. ‘I see better when I’m tripping,’ he said. ‘I’ve got to find out what this thing in the back of my head is. There’s somebody out there, trying to get through to me, trying to tell me something. I thought –’

‘Yes?’

‘I thought it might be you.’ Cris turned his face up to the stranger, his eyes hopeful and afraid.

* * *

‘It’s part of growing up,’ said Lizzie. ‘You grow away from your parents. You grow away from your home.’ There was a mellow bitterness in her voice, the sound of pain that should long since have passed. ‘For us, well, it was different. We grew away from everything.’

The black woman wore an amazing fluorescent purple T-shirt and a long gypsy skirt, sitting cross‐legged on the floor next to the sofa. She’d got the clothes from the Apple Boutique when it closed down, giving away the stock to anyone who wandered in the shop. One of the Beatles’ less successful projects.

Ace listened to her impatiently, wondering whether it was time to go and find the Doctor. He’d been gone for thirteen minutes, disappearing almost as soon as they’d arrived at the Happening.

‘So,’ she said, trying to make conversation, ‘what are you planning to do?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘You know, what’s your next step from here? What’ll you be doing in ten years’ time?’

Lizzie shrugged. ‘You should really live one day at a time, keep your head in the here and now. You know? I’m trying to live just one day at a time. Just trying to forget the past and not worry about the future.’ That bitterness was there again.

Ace suddenly felt old, so much older than the woman at her feet. It had something to do with travelling the universe and fighting Daleks and having the stuffing knocked out of you emotionally and physically until you felt you might be hollow.

Or it might be the longing in Lizzie’s voice. She’d heard that timbre in the speech of soldiers who had ended up getting killed doing reckless things. The suicidal types, the ones who had become soldiers because they thought they’d screwed up their lives.

Screwed up their lives. What was she going to be doing, ten years from now?

The Doctor came down the stairs, trailing Cris, who looked befuddled. Ace smiled to herself. No wonder, if the Time Lord had been talking to him.

She was here to protect the Doctor, because he needed someone to watch his back. The promise still held: she wasn’t going to let him die alone. But after they’d sorted out this monster, there’d be another one, and another one… the TARDIS was a roller‐coaster, plunging from one battle, one adventure, to the next. Not much different to being a starship trooper, though you did get more