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'Mister,' said Malcolm, 'Please ... '

Grandfather noticed the boy. Malcolm held out Cowboy Gonk.

'Please make the snowmen go away. You can have my gonk. It's my favourite one.'

Grandfather solemnly took it, and considered the stuffed toy.

'His name is Cowboy Gonk,' said Malcolm.

'Does this represent an actual earthly lifeform?' asked Grandfather. 'Arms stick out where the ears should be. Where would a digestive system be located in this giant skull, do you think? The legs wouldn't support the weight of the head. No, it's most impractical. It'd never survive.'

'It's a toy, Grandfather,' I said. 'It's not supposed to be practical.'

The gonk struck him very strangely.

More than Gillian's threat to me, the gonk got through to him.

'It's a feat of the imagination,' he said. 'Unusual.'

'Unique,' I insisted. 'To them, humanity.'

He smiled, showing his crooked teeth. Inside his mind, a wall collapsed.

'It'd be a pity to lose this quality. A great pity. The universe would be a drabber, duller place without it. At the very least, the human race deserves further study. I shall see what I can do about the Cold.'

Later –

'Ahem, there seems to be a problem,' said Grandfather.

He had been in communication with the whispering ice.

'The Cold is very grateful for our suggestions and much appreciates the offer of alternative accommodation, but on the whole would rather continue with its original intention ... '

'Wiping out the human race?'

'Yes, child. Most regrettable.'

Grandfather gave a well-I-did-my-best shrug, and rearranged some

levers.

'So, reverse the polarity, or whatever it is you need to do,' said John. 'Make the Cold Knights do what you want.'

'John Brent, isn't it?' said Grandfather, peering at the boy.

'That might be a name to be reckoned with. In some futures.'

'Yes. I'm John Brent.'

'And you're at school with Susan. Interesting. Knowing your mental inclinations, you should be able to understand that the course of action you're proposing is not quite as simple as one might hope.'

'Susan said you could see off the Cold.'

Grandfather looked at me, trying not to seem pleased.

'Did she now? The child has a great deal of faith in her aged relative, it would appear. It wouldn't do to let her down.'

All the while, he'd been playing with the keyboard of his machine, pretending to be casually fiddling but actually making crucial adjustments.

'Now,' he said, loudly, addressing the Cold. 'I think you should concentrate.'

There was a cracking in the ice, a grumbling inside. Grandfather put on a pair of tinted spectacles, and made adjustments to the multiple lenses.

'Is that load of old rubbish wired together supposed to save us all?' asked Gillian, incredulous.

'"Load of old rubbish"? Indeed! What do you take me for, a rag and bone man? This is a highly sophisticated instrument. But it's just a machine. It only functions on this plane. It can perform certain preordained tasks. That's about it. But, and this is highly significant – John, pay attention, you should learn something of interest to you – this machine doesn't have to exist only on this plane. It has multidimensional mass. What do you think of that, then?'

He held the lapel of his frock coat and made a sign for applause. None came.

'Don't you see? By stretching into other planes, we can, as it were, enfold the Cold. A classic stratagem, from the repertoire of the Great Khan. Of course, he was a proponent of encirclement, a two-dimensional tactic. What we intend might more accurately be called enspherement. By using certain elements from my space-time machine, I can grasp the animus of the Cold inside a few seconds. But there's something I need to complete the device.'

'What?' I asked.

'Your friend, who so kindly offered his gonk. Malcolm, come here, would you?'

He smiled alarmingly. Malcolm hesitated. I realise Grandfather can be quite frightening if he doesn't work against it. Malcolm decided and walked over to join Grandfather.

'Hold these,