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A second photograph showed the area in more detail, the site resembling a cleaned bullet wound. The dark lines now seemed to be criss-crossing roads, extending some distance into the dark coniferous forests and then stopping dead.

'We dispatched a Yakovlev-26 high-altitude reconnaissance craft. Contact was lost immediately over the area in question, although the pilot confirmed that both construction and mining seemed to be taking place' Shuskin paused. 'You are familiar, Doctor, with the Mikoyan MiG-25?'

The Doctor turned slightly. 'Yes. The prototypes broke numerous closed-circuit speed, payload-to-height and rate-of climb records'

'There is no better plane in the world,' said Shuskin proudly. 'We are already flying with impunity over Israel and Iran on reconnaissance missions. The MiG-25 is simply too fast for your F-4 Phantoms'

'Madam, please don't equate me with any army or national government,' the Doctor pointed out sharply.

'It is of little importance, Doctor. We sent in three MiG-25s. We

barely had time to monitor the battle in which all were lost' 'Do you have any idea what shot them down?' asked Liz.

'No,' said Shuskin. 'They reported multiple enemy targets, flying in close formation - then nothing.'

Shuskin clicked a button, and the projected image changed to a photograph of what seemed to be a road running through the taiga. Instead of concrete or tarmac, the surface was smooth and silvered, like a long line of mercury.

The trees had been harshly but precisely cut away to make way for the road, creating a monotonous edging of green and brown.

'We tried approaching the site by foot, an entire regiment of the Red Army. One soldier was ordered to return to base with these photographs of the road long before the site was reached.' The picture changed again and again, showing numerous different versions of the road, its smooth-metal surface, and the surrounding area.

'He is the only survivor. If anyone else was sent back with further evidence, they never arrived. And we must presume that the rest of the soldiers died in battle'

'And you think that alien life forms are behind the construction and all these deaths?' asked Liz.

'Late last year our radar systems reported multiple targets approaching the area'

The Doctor turned to look at Shuskin, a silhouette against the white light of the projector. 'Multiple targets?

Originally one mass, breaking up during the descent?'

'Indeed. This sounds familiar to you?'

'I'm rather afraid it does,' said the Doctor.

'Business or pleasure, sir?' the man at Geneva airport had asked. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart had been lost for a reply.

The ensuing ride through Geneva was lifeless and silent.

Normally, with the practised eye of a combat veteran, Lethbridge-Stewart would have been constantly alert, looking around him for potential ambush sites. But now he just slumped in the back of the car, grunting occasionally in response to the young Swiss UNIT captain who was driving him. They passed the Musée d'Art et d'Histoire and the captain tried to start up a conversation, but after three failed attempts he gave up and drove the grateful Brigadier in silence to the meeting place.

The alfresco Royamune café, overlooked by the old League of Nations building, was a regular spot for 'informal chats'. UNIT's structure was such that, because officers often felt unable to go through official government channels, they would, instead, fly to Geneva on leave and 'look up an old friend'. It was a tried and tested method of passing on information without the need to fill in forms, answer awkward questions or, possibly, compromise sources. Lethbridge-Stewart had used it before and knew its effectiveness. Hence, his message to Major-General Augustus 'Tubby' Hayes.

Lethbridge-Stewart and Hayes went back a long way.

They had served together at Suez, and then in Aden, where Lethbridge-Stewart's reputation as a superb leader of men had been made. The newspapers called 1967 the 'Summer of Love'.