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Liz, uneasy at suddenly being the centre of attention, stood up and crossed the room towards Mark's stereogram, a mahogany affair that was housed beneath a teetering bookshelf which overflowed with technical journals, copies of New Scientist, and a stack of dog-eared American super-hero comics. She passed two knots of party guests chattering happily and drinking extravagantly in the ambient splashes of light created by three lava lamps.

'Comics insult your intelligence.' she said picking up a copy of The Brave and the Bold. She knew that Mark would have followed her. She sensed his frustrated tension behind her.

'But comics are all I read,' he said, again in that high-pitched half-chuckle that told her that he was embarrassed and not a little drunk.

'I like the music,' she said, holding the cassette case of the Studio 2 Stereo collection currently filling the room with its shimmering mood music and sweeping orchestral passages.

'No you don't, you'd prefer some Stravinsky or Stockhausen. Something unlistenable.'

'I don't think your friend likes me very much,' Liz announced. 'She seems very uptight. I wouldn't have really thought she was your type at all.'

'Fay's not anybody's type.' said Mark. 'She's a radical feminist'

'So am I,' said Liz, with a cheeky grin that seemed to ruffle all sorts of feathers on Mark.

'I ought to put you over my knee.' he said between gritted teeth, looking away from her and back towards his friends, who were now talking among themselves.

'Not in front of the army, darling, they look after their own.

They'd probably shoot you!'

Mark's fingers dug into Liz's arm. 'Sometimes I think you enjoy winding me up.'

'No, honestly, I've got better things to do with my time.'

she said in her sweetest voice, pulling herself free. One or two heads were beginning to turn in their direction, though she saw that the Doctor was completely engrossed in conversation with Professor Trainor.

At that moment she and Mark were joined by two former colleagues who were also now working on the Neptune project. The conflict drained away.

'I think you should come back and join us,' said John Gallagher, one of Liz's oldest friends.

'At the party, or on the project?' she asked with a wicked grin.

'Both,' replied Gallagher. 'They're far too dull without you!'

Chris Hughes nodded in silent agreement. In all the time that she had known him, Liz had never known Chris use a word when a mute gesture would do.

'I'd love to.' she said, lightly touching John's arm. 'But... '

'I know, I know - Official Secrets Act. I suppose after the stuff you get up to with Dr Smith over there, rocket fuels must seem a bit namby-pamby?'

'You've met the Doctor?' she asked, as John began looking through Mark's cassette collection. She caught Mark out of the corner of her eye, slipping back towards his friends, looking alone and crushed.

'Yeah. Curious bloke,' said John. 'Told me I reminded him of somebody he knew years ago. I asked who and he said Joseph the Second of Austria-Hungary! Bit of an obscure joke, wouldn't you say?'

'That's the Doctor,' noted Liz.

'Hey, Mark,' called John to the other side of the room.

'Haven't you got any Rolling Stones, or the Who? Something with a bit of volume?'

'No,' said Mark, moving back towards Liz but avoiding looking at her. 'What you see is what you get'

'Ah,' said John, picking up a copy of A Saucer Full of Secrets. 'This'll do. The Floyd are mellow.'

Mark seemed to nod and shake his head at the same time. 'Whatever you like,' he said, and turned his attention to Liz. 'There's a good discussion going on over here,' he said, indicating where Fay, Gavin, and others were sitting. 'We're talking about nuclear disarmament and utopianism'

I bet you are, thought Liz with a wry grin. 'Sounds fascinating,' she said.

'Your input would be greatly valued,' said Mark, sounding not unlike a wounded puppy.

Oh God, David Mercer-on-Acid. Liz's eyes flickered towards the ceiling. After a brief hesitation, she smiled. 'I'd be delighted,'