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By Root 302 0

of the sides we stood on or the helmets we wore. We were all of us guilty and all to be judged. Meat to be stripped clean. He'd stand above us with a big, red, terrible smile, and us his feast to be devoured. All of us lost.

I waited there by the shore as men continued to move in and die around me; blown to pieces, some of them, others drowning as they tried to scream with saltwater lungs. What was it like at Omaha? I wondered. And I remember that was my last thought before I pitched forward, my face pressed against wet, cold metal, some piece of debris in the lapping waves.

I sank my head under the water to muffle the rattling of the guns, the screaming, all of that. You know.

It went on, and it went on, and it went on. Some of us got there, took out the enemy, won. Nine thousand people either dead or wounded. Think about that number. It's meaningless as a phrase, but try to picture it as soldiers in a line. Imagine how long it would take to walk along that line, picture how far it would stretch. It's all right, you've time enough - the soldiers can't break their line and run away. They're soldiers. They have no choice.

Because men - and men like me, I suppose - never gave them a choice.

4.2

Sam was walking unsteadily towards Roley's front door when it flew open and out stormed the Doctor.

'Catch,' she said, and fell into his arms.

'Sam! Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam,' he fussed. 'Let me look at you. You're hurt!

Oh dear...' He supported her as they walked off towards the TARDIS. 'Cup of tea will do you good. Oh, Sam, Sam, Sam... That's a nasty cut on your head. Did the muggers do that?'

'Muggers?' asked Sam. 'Where did you get that idea?'

'Well, Fitz phoned last night -'

'Did he?' Sam shook her head, thinking about the way they'd parted company. 'Well. They could've been muggers, I suppose.'

'I'm so, so sorry.'

'Why, did you put them up to It?'

The Doctor looked at her strangely. 'Of course not!'

'That was a joke.' She swayed, almost losing her balance. 'I'm a fall-down comedienne.'

'Come on,' said the Doctor, lifting her up and cradling her. 'I think this is more serious than we thought.'

'That makes a change,' Sam said.

***

Maria came back into the dining room. 'Cynthia's sorting out the room now,'

she announced.

'Et tu, Brute? ' muttered Roley, turning his back.

'What does that mean?' Maria hurried over to him. 'I'm no brute!'

'Taking the Doctor's side, after all we've been through to get this far. Oh, look, there goes Mrs Loyalty, sneaking out the back way.' Roley couldn't bring himself to look at her.

'By agreeing with him, we got him to leave us alone. Didn't we?'

Roley looked at her, like a small boy wanting to believe in Father Christmas. 'We did?'

'Now we can do what we like while he looks at that... whatever it is in Austen. I heard the two of them talking in Dreamland. I didn't understand much but I'm sure it could be important.' She looked imploringly at him. 'If it helps you with your studies, let him get on with it while you get on with the research. 'A broad smile dimpled her cheeks. 'Uninterrupted.'

A huge, gummy grin gripped Roley's face, and he squeezed her hand. His tittering disguised the sound of her involuntary sigh of delight at having pleased him.

***

Sam sat in the Doctor's armchair, gripping the bright-red mug of tea till her fingers went white as she recounted her tale.

'And it... I don't know, it was like its eyes lit up when it saw Roley's place.'

'It? Saw?'The Doctor was perched on the central console in the vast TARDIS control room. His questions rang out, tiny echoes flitting about the blue shadows that surrounded them.

'I got the feeling it was looking, like reading a book of all my thoughts... And it lingered on what happened yesterday, it was... thrilled .' Sam suddenly felt a bit self-conscious. 'It wasn't human, Doctor. I know it.'

'Do you?'

'Yes. The way it looked, the way it spoke, it felt... alien.'

'"Alien filth".'The Doctor frowned. 'I wonder...'

'And the fear I felt, the fear .'