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By Root 302 0

of suckers, like small funnels, ran from the centre of its brow, up over its head, and down its back in a Mohican-like crest. There were more rows of suckers running down its chest and arms and legs, and congregating in tiny barnacled clusters on its torso.

The 'females' were smaller and slimmer than their companion, still with the same domed head but with perfectly smooth, maggot-white skin. Their hands and feet were small and dainty, and in contrast to the prowling male they moved with an almost balletic grace. Sam drew her head back down behind the panel and looked at her companions. Evidently due to the expression on her face, Litefoot gave her a quizzical look. Sam responded by grimacing and rolling her eyes.

The question burst out of her the instant the aliens had gone. 'Doctor, what were those things?'

'Zygons,' the Doctor said, and nodded, seemingly unconcerned. 'I thought as much.'

'You've come across them before, then?'

'Yes, though only a small warrior faction. I encountered them about ninety years from now, give or take a decade or so. They had crash-landed on Earth centuries before. I knew very little about them at the time, but I've read various texts since.They're a fascinating species, a hermaphrodite race. Each adult is able to produce and self-fertilise its own eggs, which it lays in clusters of between five and twenty, three or four times a lifetime.

Their society is divided quite rigidly into warrior-engineers, scientists and civilians. However, to become a warrior-engineer, which is considered a great honour, a Zygon must first undergo the ritual of sterilisation.This has the effect of drawing out their fierce but latent aggressiveness and, supposedly, making them more single-minded in battle.'

'Stupid, you mean,' said Sam,'like most men.'

'Interestingly,' said the Doctor, ignoring the interruption, 'an added effect of sterilisation is that it alters not only the Zygon's personality, but also its appearance. In its natural state a Zygon has smooth, creamy-white skin and is dainty, almost feminine, in appearance.After sterilisation, however, its body fills out, its skin colour deepens to a reddish-orange as it becomes suffused with blood, and it develops body armour, rather like a porcupine raising its quills, in the form of suckers which, if a Zygon is attacked, release a deadly poison.'

'Sounds delightful,' murmured Litefoot.

'Is there anything else we should know?' asked Sam.

'Plenty,' said the Doctor, and began to count facts out on his fingers as he listed them.'Every Zygon has a "sting", again poison-based, which it can use to stun, paralyse or kill its victim. They have the technology to transform their physical appearance -literally to alter the colour, shape and texture of their flesh - in order to imitate individuals of particular species, based on that individual's mind and body print.They use their cyborgs -

which are called Skarasen - both as milk-cows, living on their lactic fluid, and as devastatingly effective weapons of destruction. Oh, and they're very partial to board games.'

Sam pursed her lips thoughtfully. 'Doctor, you said the other mob, the ones you met in the future, had crashed centuries before. But they were all warriors, so they couldn't lay eggs, right?'

'Right.'

'So that must mean they live for a very long time.'

The Doctor nodded. 'Compared with humans they do. A Zygon's average life span is around seven hundred to a thousand years.'

Sam whistled. 'That's old.'

'Do you mind?' said the Doctor indignantly. 'If I were a Zygon, I'd be -'Then he caught Litefoot's bemused expression. 'Never mind.'

'So where do these Zygons come from?' Sam asked.

'Originally a planet called Zygor, but that was destroyed by a stellar explosion. They're homeless now.'

'Maybe they could get jobs flogging The Big Issue ', said Sam.

The Doctor gave her a withering look and moved back across to the control panel, flexing his fingers. He began to tweak and twist the alien controls seemingly at random, though only a few seconds later Sam was