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There had to be.

The Doctor stood up, and made his way towards the door. Perhaps if he told Rose something of his involvement in the recent alien invasions then the man would see that he was serious and -

A man with a machine gun stepped into the Doctor's path. 'Do not move,' he said in a thick Russian accent. He jabbed the gun forward for emphasis. 'You are a prisoner of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics.'

FIRST INTERLUDE.'

UP IN THE SKY

The man introduced himself as Jimmy Ferro, researcher into the paranormal. Bob Campbell was tempted to shut up shop there and then, but something told him that the scruffy man had more money than sense. And Campbell was always happy to relieve the foolish of their excess wealth - especially if they had long hair and had clearly never done an honest day's work in their life.

'Please,' Ferro said. 'I need to charter a balloon flight.

Immediately.'

Campbell scratched his chin. 'I don't tend to do charters -

a quick flip around the local barrows and circles, that's my forte.' 'I'll make it worth your while.

'And it's lunchtime. I really should be getting back to my good lady wife' Campbell teased him closer, like the expert angler he was. 'If I'm late she'll think I'm having a fling with some bird down at the White Hart.'

'Whatever you would normally charge,' said Ferro, 'I'll pay double.

'Well...' Campbell affected deep thought.

'Twenty pounds?' offered Ferro.

It was like taking sweets from a baby. 'Just the figure I had in mind.' Campbell glanced at his watch. 'Where would you like to go?'

'Over the Earl of Norton's land'

Campbell's face blanched with fear. 'Oh, sir, you don't want to be going there.'

'Sorry?'

'Only joking,' said Campbell. 'I'm quite a fan of them horror films. Dracula in India, The Haunting of Toby Jugg, Raiders of the Stone Ring - I've seen 'em all. I expect you have, too, what with your interest in the supernatural and all.'

'I don't bother with rubbish like that.' Ferro looked hurt by the very suggestion. 'I'm a serious scientist.'

'Of course you are.'

'Is going over Norton's land a problem?'

Campbell bustled about behind the counter, looking for a map. 'I wouldn't have thought so. What's Hippie Pete going to do? Shoot us down?'

An hour later, Campbell was beginning to wish he'd obeyed his instincts and flipped over the 'closed' sign. Ferro had been poor company, the journey had so far been monotonous, and even the pleasant feeling of the sun on his back did little to lighten the mood. Still, he kept telling himself, think of the money.

'Were you here for the concert?' he asked, desperate for some sort of communication with Ferro.

Ferro shook his head, his eyes fixed firmly on the instruments cradled in his lap.

The balloon flew over a small river, bordered by thick hedges. A cow had somehow pushed its way through and stood in the muddied water, a forlorn look on its face as if it didn't know what to do next. Campbell smiled. 'I sometimes think I'm the only one not swept up in this new way of looking at things.'

Ferro grunted; it was impossible to tell if it was in affirmation or disagreement. He probably couldn't give a monkey's either way.

Campbell continued regardless. 'I don't know what to make of young people these days,' he said. Nothing's sacred.' they want to have their cake and eat it.' Campbell let some more hot air into the balloon, and the basket rose higher into the sky. 'Call me old-fashioned, but I never even thought about "freedom" when I was their age. Just got on with the job at hand. But these young people, they go down to London, they take drugs, and they become homosexuals.

That's the permissive society for you, isn't it?' He paused for a moment, thinking. 'Those hippies who saw fireworks in the sky? I blame the drugs.'

'I suppose it's a matter of interpretation, muttered Ferro.

It was the closest they'd come to a conversation since taking off. 'What is?'

'The lights in the sky.' The young man glanced up for a moment. 'I heard all the reports, and that's why I'm here.