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Grey ropy strands erupted around the claw as it fastened on the Doctor’s throat.

Allison fell backwards, fumbling for something on the ground. Tubes – or were they veins? – pulsed on the spindly wrist, the bony fingers clutching at the Doctor’s neck. His hands were pulling at the gripping claw, his face was beginning to mottle.

Then Allison was beside him, her arm swinging down, the baseball bat an arc of silver. Energy exploded from the shrivelled arm. The Dalek screamed. Allison hit it again and again. She kept on bringing down the bat, and each time liquid spattered her face and the walls.

‘Allison,’ said the Doctor.

Allison upended the bat and savagely ground it into the Dalek. There was a grisly crunching sound.

‘Allison,’ said the Doctor, restraining her. ‘It’s dead.’

Allison flinched. There was a clatter as the bat fell to the ground.

‘Thank you,’ the Doctor said softly, leading her away from the Dalek.

‘What was that?’ said Rachel. It seemed an inadequate thing to say.

‘They’ve mutated again.’ The Doctor calmly inspected the stinking cavity. ‘Here, have a look.’ He made space for her. ‘It’s all right, it’s dead now. Compare this with the destroyed Dalek at Totter’s Lane. Look at the differences.’

Ace checked herself for injuries. Her leg was painful and on her upper arm there was a nasty bruise which she had got when she smashed through the window. Her ribs hurt

– she took a deep breath but there was no sharp pain. No ribs broken then, she thought. Carefully, Ace picked a sliver of glass from her jacket sleeve and considered getting up.

Just give it a few seconds, she decided, to get my breath back. She wasn’t yet ready to face the Doctor. She watched as Rachel stooped over the Dalek.

‘The other Dalek was underdeveloped,’ said Rachel,

‘with vestigial limbs and sensory organs, almost amoeboid.

This is altogether different, it has functional appendages with some kind of mechanical prosthesis grafted on to its body.’

Functional appendages, thought Ace, remembering the claw, that’s one way of putting it.

Rachel’s face had collapsed in disgust. ‘I think I’m going to be sick.’

Ace decided to draw attention to herself. She tried to get up. ‘Don’t anyone give me a hand.’

Allison rushed over. ‘You’re hurt?’

‘I had an argument with a window.’

The Doctor was suddenly there kneeling beside her. He motioned Allison away. ‘You two had better check the cellar, but don’t touch anything.’

He stared at them, watching until they went. Then he turned to Ace.

Now I’m going to get it, she thought.

‘When I say stay put, I mean stay put,’ said the Doctor,

‘not take on an entire Dalek assault squad single-handed.’

He ran practised fingers along Ace’s leg, checking the damage. Before Ace could stop him he hooked one palm under her knee and brought it sharply upwards. The leg twinged.

Ace gasped.

‘Why did you come here?’ asked the Doctor.

‘I left my tape deck here.’

‘Where is it now?’

Good question! she thought. ‘In little bits,’ she said ruefully.

‘Good,’ said the Doctor.

‘What do you mean "good"?’ Ace was astonished. ‘Where am I going to get another one?’

‘Your tape deck was a dangerous anachronism. If somebody had found it and discovered the principles of its function the whole microchip revolution would take place twenty years too early, with uncalculable damage to the timeline.’

‘So?’ said Ace sullenly.

‘Ace,’ said the Doctor, ‘the Daleks have a starship up there with the capability of erasing this planet from space.

But even they, ruthless though they are, would think twice before making such a radical alteration to the timeline.’

There’s more to this time travel lark then meets the eye, decided Ace.

The Doctor reached out and pinched the lobe of her ear, once.

‘You should be able to get around on that leg now.’

Ace carefully got to her feet and tested her weight on the leg. It was still a bit shaky but the pain had gone.

‘Cheers, Professor.’

The Doctor smiled and picked up the baseball bat.