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Watson laughed. 'Seems you're no longer needed, doesn't it? Go on, then, boy, run off to Roley and tell him the news. It'll be the test cases doing the testing from now on.'

Fitz shook his head, as his mum sat bolt upright and started laughing.

'Satan has me again, lad!' she gurgled. 'He'll parade me through hell, he will.' Then she was suddenly contrite, humble. 'Don't let them put me in care again, Fitzie, will you?' she said, softly.

'Mum, I -'

'Get out!' she screamed at him. 'Get out, before I kill you!' The words came again and again, and he didn't know if they formed a threat or a warning.

Tears clouded his vision, and through the blurry haze, she looked like his old mum again.

This screaming thing wasn't her. It couldn't be, he knew it. Watson had her under some kind of spell, that was it. Why wasn't the Doctor back yet? He had all the answers round here...

6.3

When Tarr returned, Azoth was roaming the freezing area as if lost.

'Are you looking for something?' Tarr asked, casually.

'The Beast,' Azoth said. "They are present on the humans above?'

'Yes. In large numbers.' Tarr paused. 'So Sam says.'

'Where is Sam?'

Tarr looked shiftily at the floor. 'She ran away.'

'You did not stop her.'

'I tried, I -'

'You did not choose to stop her.'

Tarr felt suddenly afraid. Azoth knew. He'd uttered the words as a statement of fact. Tarr tried to put a brave face on it. 'She told me what you wanted to know. I made her tell me.'

Azoth said nothing, watching him in silence.

Tarr walked jauntily over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Then he sighed, long-sufferingly. 'You're not angry with me, are you?'

He'd barely got the words out when, to his utter surprise, Azoth reached out casually and broke his neck.

***

Azoth watched Tarr collapse to the floor. The human was useless as a test subject now; the learnings would have swamped and clogged his neural pathways, rendered the fragile Benelisa program unworkable.

The Sam unit had escaped, but the fact that she could physically see the Beast indicated that the program was dysfunctional. He would need to restore the corrupt program in Taylor unit A. Sam unit had a phrase for this: disk doctor.

Azoth had already performed the initial scan - images from the home race memory had been cerebrally input to feel for the program in Taylor's brain, to coax it into operation. There had been only a twisted response, something from deep within the human's belief system.

It didn't matter. Now he was reacquainted with the human's mind, he could repair it with ease.

***

It had taken her far longer than she'd thought it would, but at last Cynthia was packed. A suitcase and five shopping bags. So much for three years of her life.

Only the teddy remained, lying on the bed. She considered leaving it here, a sign that she'd grown up at last, that she was standing on her own two feet and making her own decisions. Leave the child behind in this place, hiding in the wardrobe, while she went on to start again somewhere else.

Then again, her mum had given her that bear. She'd be heartbroken if she learned her daughter had left it behind.

Struggling with the awkwardness of carrying so many bags, and with the bear under one arm, she staggered downstairs as quickly as she could. It was dark - since Roley had sent everyone away, of course, there was no one around to see to the lamps. Well, they'd have to put their own lights on from now on. She'd leave her bags in the hall, order a cab, go and see Roley and tell him she was off.

'Need a hand?'

It was Russell again, sitting by the door in the gloom, a lazy sentry.

'I'm fine, thanks,' she replied, curtly. 'I'm just -'

Suddenly the bags tumbled out of her hands. She stared at them; it was as if they'd been yanked away on strings.

'Clumsy,' rutted Russell.

Cocky little idiot. She glared at him, and then realised. He'd cut off that stupid lock of hair at last, and she could see what a mess there was underneath. What kind of berk would get such