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‘Oi! Dorothy!’

Ace whirled around to see Alexander smiling at her. He threw himself at her in a bear hug, lifting her feet off the deck and whirling her around.

‘I didn’t think we’d see you again,’ he said as he let her go.

As she opened her mouth, he raised his hand. ‘And I don’t want to know how that police box thing got in the ship. And before you start explaining – don’t.’ He paused and frowned, glancing past her, back out to sea... to the island. ‘Hang on..’ he said cautiously. ‘If you’re here, how come you’re –’

It was Ace’s turn to shush him. ‘It’s The Wizard of Oz all over again,’ she smiled. ‘It’s either all a big con, or it’s magic. I haven’t decided which, yet.’

Alexander shook his head and suddenly remembered something: he rooted around in his pocket, and produced the envelope that Ace had asked him to post. ‘Does this mean I don’t have to post this, or that I do have to post this?’

She took it from him, her face creasing into a grin at the consequences that posting – or not posting – this simple little note could have, and slipped it into her pocket.

‘Let me think about it,’ she said slyly.

Michael stood silently behind the Doctor, drawing deeply on his cigarette as quietly as he could. And still he wasn’t surprised when the little man said: ‘If I tell you it’s bad for your health, you’ll probably accuse me of mothering you, won’t you?’

‘One mother’s quite enough,’ Michael replied, moving to stand at the Doctor’s side.

‘How is she?’

Michael gave a cautious shrug. ‘She’s taking it all well. I’m not sure who she’s blaming for Gran not being able to finish her treatment. Probably me for dragging her away.’

‘It wouldn’t have made any difference. Tell her that. I’m sure Doctor Menzies could operate the equipment in the treatment room, but this isn’t the time or the place.’

Michael turned and pulled a surprised face. ‘That’s not like you! Not tempted to give history a helping hand? Reshape the future? Give the world an early cure for Alzheimer’s? Save a few lives into the bargain?’

The Doctor continued to stare out to sea.

‘Sorry,’ Michael said after a few seconds. ‘A low shot.’

‘Better than your higher ones,’ answered the Doctor, rubbing his nose. Michael flicked the butt of his cigarette over the side of the boat to an accompanying tut from the Doctor.

‘Isn’t there enough rubbish out there?’

‘Talking of which – John says that Moby’s out as far and as deep as he can get it. D’you want him to cut the power?’

‘I think so. Once it’s turned off, the static shield I put in will make it totally inoperable as long as the stasis chamber’s still out there. As long as Moby and the control sphere sit quietly on the bottom, the chamber will stay sealed.’

‘Okey dokey.’ Michael turned to look for John.

‘And what about you?’ the Doctor asked before he could disappear. Michael spun on his heel.

‘What about me?’

The Doctor tipped his head back – his hat miraculously staying on, even upsidedown. ‘Decided what you’re going to do?’

‘About UNIT?’ He sighed thoughtfully. ‘I’m doing what I have to do,’ he said – and then laughed at the pretentious way it came out. ‘I’m going to go back, face the music, and leave.

Court-martial, dishonourable discharge. Whatever.’

There was a long, long silence. One of those silences, thought Michael, that no one knows how to end. It was the Doctor who broke it.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘For everything. It’s no excuse, I know; no justification.’ He looked back out to sea. ‘I wish you could see it through my eyes, Michael. If the Talichre hadn’t been driven off. . well, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now. Remind me to tell you about a planet I know. Anima Persis. Just one of the many worlds that the Talichre. . played with.’ He paused.

Maybe for effect. Maybe he was really thinking. Michael doubted it. ‘And I’m sorry about Andrew. I really am. I do what I do to make sure there are fewer Andrews. And fewer Michaels.’

Michael took a breath. ‘His name was