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'This really is the back of beyond,' observed Liz over the noise of the rotors.

It's easy to forget that hundreds of square miles of the Soviet Union are well inside the Arctic Circle.' commented the Doctor. 'And that the taiga covers nearly half of the country.

That's something like a quarter of the world's forests?

'All the same, a rather remote landing point for our not-so-friendly aliens.'

The Doctor laughed. 'You can't expect them to keep coming out of the sewers next to St Paul's! London might be the invasion capital of Earth, but it hasn't got a monopoly, you know.' He paused, rubbing his chin. 'In many ways this is an ideal location. Sparsely populated, but well within one of the world's superpowers. Or perhaps there's something very specific they want here. It is supposed to be a mine, after all.'

'You're assuming that they came here by choice.'

The Doctor nodded. 'I think it unlikely that they came here by accident. But you're right.' we shouldn't make any assumptions at this stage.'

Liz turned to Captain Shuskin, seated at their side. 'Do you have any idea what to expect?' she asked, almost daring her to come out with a stock response, full of pride and patriotism.

Instead, Shuskin shook her head honestly. 'No. I've been analysing and re-analysing the reports in my mind ever since I was briefed on the problem. The only thing I know is that whatever is there, it isn't human' She glanced out of the windows. The gunships will be approaching the target area soon.'

Benton spent most of the journey back staring blankly out of the car window, occasionally muttering aloud. He was furious with himself that his normally so reliable memory had let him down. Yates seemed absorbed in the mixture of Radio 2

muzak and the one o'clock news, with its lead story about the still-unsolved and apparently motiveless murder of two young people close to the site of the Redborough '70 pop-music festival. Meanwhile, in America, the Beatles were preparing to play the Altmount Speedway Stadium to an expected audience of half a million. As the report segued into sports news, Yates looked across at Benton.

'Arlo's worrying you, isn't he?'

'To be frank, sir, yes.'

'Very well. When we get back to HQ, check on his background. See if you can dig up anything tangible.'

'Thank you sir,' said Benton. 'I'm sure he might be important.'

Flight Lieutenant Nikolai Pakilev stared through the bulletproof perspex and saw only dark clouds merging seamlessly into the angular pine trees of the forest. The instruments showed an empty sky, bar the tiny points of light representing the Mi-8s behind them and the other gunship to Pakilev's left.

Pakilev eased the joystick to the right, the helicopter arcing away to adopt a different line of approach. Radio silence was to be maintained until an enemy target was positively identified.' for the moment, both he and Grennikov were simply following through the approach they'd agreed with their commanding officers.

Pakilev checked his wing-mounted armaments for the hundredth time, cycling through the options on the weapons display. The four pods each held thirty-two 57mm unguided rockets, and the rails carried four air-to-ground, wire-guided missiles. His orders were clear.' engage with any aerial targets, and launch strikes against the construction to ascertain its ability to resist direct attack. The complex was now only a few kilometres away.

Despite the drone of the blades and the cramped conditions in the cockpit, Pakilev remained calm and detached. He was merely the mind of his machine. The sweat running down his neck, the pins and needles tingling in his legs - none of this was important. The only senses that mattered were the external ones of the gunship, the radar signals spreading out invisibly into the darkness, the laser rangefinder that would surely see use before too long.

He glanced down again at the radar screen, splashes of green luminescence dappling his face. The Mi-8s had now come closer, and the target was no more than -

Wait,