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Although I heard there's some monsters in the deeps that belong to Truth Through Ugliness.'

The Doctor found he was fascinated despite himself. 'Isn't it a bit dangerous?'

'Oh, we're strictly top of the food chain,' said the fish, 'except when some wally decides to go fishing. To be honest I've been thinking of packing it in – maybe joining the primate colony near the waterfall. It was fun for the first couple of decades but I'm getting sick of it. Is there anything in particular you wanted to talk about, only I'm getting seriously dehydrated here, know what I mean?'

'I was wondering if you'd noticed anything odd happening recently,' said the Doctor.

'Like what?'

'Strange lights in the water, unexplained meteorological phenomena, bits of drone falling out of the sky.'

'Nothing like that,' said the fish. 'Someone dropped a force-bomb near me a couple of months back. That any good?'

'You're sure it was a force-bomb?'

'Oh yeah,' said the fish. ' Very sensitive vibration detectors I got. I know a force-bomb when it goes off over my head. I was deaf for a week. Great big wave went sweeping into the harbour taking most of the edible fish with it.'

'Did you tell God?'

'You're joking. Getting away from God was one of the reasons I became a fish in the first place.

Look, it's nice chatting with you but I need to be off now.'

'Is there any way I can contact you again?'

'Nah,' said the fish. 'I'm planning to migrate right around the Endless Sea, then I'll get some feet and explore the interface a bit. See you.'

The fish ducked back under the water and swam away.

The Doctor stood up and brushed the stray crumbs off his sleeves.

He doubted vi!Cari would have used a force-bomb to wipe out beRut's mural; its internal weapons would have been easily sufficient for the task. If he remembered his briefing documents correctly, a force-bomb would consist of a one-shot forcefield generator wrapped around a tiny memory core. Small enough to escape detection by God, providing God wasn't watching carefully.

Its range was probably unlimited but he couldn't help thinking that whoever had launched it had been close to iSanti Jeni.

He should probably speak to Roz about it, along with some of the other things the ships had let slip. Only he'd better wait until the following morning when she'd be feeling a little less poorly.

The Doctor rubbed his hands together as he walked towards the esplanade. He could hear music, someone playing a guitar with nine strings. That should be worth investigating. Squares of brightly coloured silk began to appear between his hands, knotted at the ends to form a long string. The Doctor made a swift pass with the scarves and then disappeared them.

He'd done enough for truth, justice and universal peace for one day; it was time to relax. He held out his arm and wasn't at all surprised when a small white bird fluttered down to land on his hand.

'How would you like to be in show business?' he asked it.

Hyper-lude

From the diary of Prof. Bernice Summerfield

I have to admit I walked right into it, a classic Doctor trap. All those times I've accused him of holding life cheap, of manipulating people like chess pieces, of being an inhuman monster that puts desperate expediency ahead of human morality. How was I to know that he was actually listening! I have no one to blame but myself.

AM!xitsa (or however you spell it) took me to see her this morning. I watched her running along the beach like some graceful bipedal animal, like the leopards I have seen in the simulations. You could feel it, even from a distance, the sensuality of it, her pleasure in her own physicality, her sheer joy as she revelled in the perfection of her own body. Perhaps the Doctor is right, perhaps she has gone beyond human now, elevated herself to some higher plane of terrible beauty and sudden violence.

In the old days in Africa and by that I mean the middle of the twentieth century, there was a rather cack-handed approach to the preservation of wildlife. It was a philosophy of containment, providing areas in which