'And that's why you need my help. Well let's not stand here talking take me to this wondrous whizgig.'

Nagle shook her head slowly. 'I'm disappointed in you, Doctor. Your att.i.tude leaves a lot to be desired. Here, in this base, we have something that could make the world a better place for everyone. I would expect you to have a little respect for that.'

She turned and walked out of the room, her heels clicking briskly on the floor, leaving the Doctor speechless.

The Doctor caught up with Nagle in the corridor.

'Your little speech didn't impress me, you know,' he whispered into her ear as he kept pace with her. 'People have died. Nothing, no project, however beneficial to the ma.s.s of humanity, is worth that sacrifice. The end never justifies the means.'

Nagle didn't slow her pace or turn to look at him. 'I'm disappointed in you for having such a restricted world-view.'

'And I'm very disappointed in you!' said the Doctor hotly. 'Can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs, eh? Well this had better be the tastiest, most fantastic omelette ever cooked for me to even consider thinking about the mere possibility of condoning your actions!'

She smiled at the overblown metaphor, but only very slightly.

'Tell me one thing why have your base here, in Sweden?' asked the Doctor.

Nagle shrugged. 'It's a neutral country, n.o.body ever bothers us.' She gave him a wry look. 'Not even visitors from outer s.p.a.ce. All those alien invasion attempts in the seventies and eighties, Doctor none of them came anywhere near Sweden.'

'Until now,' muttered the Doctor darkly.

She led him along a corridor which curved slightly to the left, and ended in an imposing double door.

Nagle turned to the Doctor, pride evident in her smile. 'This is the centre of our operations.' She entered a code on the keypad to the left of the door with deft fingers, not too deft for the Doctor to be unable to note down the code. That sort of thing was bound to come in useful before the day was out.

The doors slid open with a hiss of hydraulics and the Doctor followed Nagle into a large, gleaming white control room. His hearts lifted at the sight he'd been in more control rooms, nerve centres, headquarters and whatnots than he dared to count. Doubtless within minutes he'd be told what the problem was, have it fixed and have Sam, Fitz and the TARDIS back, all in time for tea. Oh, the boundless optimism of this incarnation, he reflected as he followed Nagle into the room.

The room was a semicircle, with banks of monitoring instruments lining the curved section. The Doctor walked along an aisle between two rows of desks.

'Here it is,' said Professor Nagle, pointing towards the far end of the room. 'The heart of the project. The TC Warp Generator.'

The far end of the room, the flat side, was dominated by a large, gleaming silver apparatus supported on a square trellis. From each corner of the square, silver p.r.o.ngs lanced in towards the centre. There was a control desk on a dais in the middle of the room. The Doctor walked up to this, frowning. The control desk consisted of a QWERTY keyboard, a computer screen and a bank of monitoring equipment. The mainframe computers were probably housed in a room beneath, away from the generator, he guessed. He noticed that there were a few soldiers stationed here and there, which was a bit disconcerting. They were in UNIT uniforms, however, and technically the good guys.

He turned to Nagle, who was still smiling broadly. 'Very pretty,' he said. 'But what's it for?'

'A means to an end. It's a Telecongruency Warp Generator,' said Professor Nagle proudly.

The Doctor frowned. 'I see.' That in itself wasn't enough to breach the TARDIS. And telecongruency warp drives were way beyond the reach of current Earth technology. All your own work?' he asked, a sarcastic edge to his voice.

Professor Nagle was staring at the generator. 'It's an incredible breakthrough, made after years of studying captured alien vessels.' Nagle pointed at the area where the silver p.r.o.ngs converged. 'Its focal point actually exists simultaneously in two places here in the generator chamber, and at a spatial location selected by computer.'

The Doctor nodded. 'So that when you walk through the focal point, you are instantly transported to another location.'

'Yes, yes.' Nagle turned to look at him. There was a disturbing light in her eyes. 'Don't you see what this means? Instant transportation, of anything! s.p.a.ce exploration would be a cinch it would make the Mars landings look like a trip to the drugstore. And we could also use it to send supplies to impoverished areas. Distance, any distance, will be no object any more. The list of applications is without limit!'

The Doctor rounded on her. 'And so is its potential for misuse. Have you even considered what this thing would really be used for? It's a perfect delivery system for weapons. Imagine if it fell into the wrong hands!'

Nagle stared at the generator. 'I'll never let that happen. The TC Warp is mine.'

'With the current state of information and communication technology it won't be yours for long. How long before its details are on the Internet? How long before someone else builds one? Warfare would become precise, devastating and instantaneous. Nowhere would be safe.'

Nagle was shaking her head. 'C19 are pretty good at keeping secrets.'

'I wouldn't be surprised if C19 themselves want it developed as a weapon.'

Nagle looked shocked. 'Ridiculous! I'm head of this project team, I'm in control.'

The Doctor laughed. 'Typical. The human race needs to grow up before it has access to technology like this. You realise I'm only going to help you if you agree that this whole operation must be shut down.'

Nagle's face was white. He seemed to have woken her up to her folly.

But then she smiled wearily. 'That's the problem, Doctor. We can't shut it down.'

Sam Jones stared into the abyss, and the abyss stared back into her. A noise like the buzzing of a swarm of flies tickled and tugged at her mind. It mesmerised her, as though she were drugged.

She watched almost distractedly as the frog-thing nearest the blackness began to scream. Its outstretched hands were engulfed and it pitched forward, the blackness fizzing around it like static. She tried to look away but couldn't, the dried mucus tugging at her hair.

Suddenly, the frog-thing was enveloped completely, its dying scream abruptly cut off. She couldn't even close her eyes, mesmerised, as the next one shuffled forward. It vanished like its fellow, into fizzing blackness. The others did the same, actually going towards the blackness, giving themselves to it. It was horrible. Why? Why were they doing this?

The last frog-thing vanished. Now Sam was alone with the Mantises, which were making the most awful screeching, a sound that seemed to scour the inside of her head. She could barely hang on to who she was, crucified on the gla.s.sy stalact.i.te, about to be consumed by something she did not understand, in a world she did not understand. She kept quiet because she didn't want to die screaming and would not utter a word however much the blackness hurt her. Perhaps it was like tar and it would burn her flesh away. Perhaps it was alive, perhaps it really was was a horde of tiny, vicious black insects which would devour her. Whichever it was, she was dead. a horde of tiny, vicious black insects which would devour her. Whichever it was, she was dead.

The black wall was only feet away now and she could observe the way it was creeping, crawling, encroaching over the gla.s.sy red rock of the cavern. Its leading edge was smoky, indistinct, and the rock in its path seemed to change, blur, like paint mixing with water. It was as though it actually became the blackness. So, perhaps she wasn't going to die. Perhaps the blackness wanted to transform her, wanted her to become part of itself. She'd become part of a gestalt being, a universal overmind.

Perhaps.

Or perhaps it was just like one of the sky-seas in this fantastic place, which looked so full of light and fire and turmoil, but were as harmless as a breath of springtime air.

Or maybe...

As she stared into the blackness, she felt a glimmer of recognition. As if some part of her knew what it was, some race memory, some atavistic part of her mind.

Perhaps...

Perhaps it was the way home.

True, it looked nothing like the maelstrom that had invaded the TARDIS but once the idea had formed in Sam's mind she couldn't shake it.

The blackness was the way home way home way home Then why were these creatures so scared of it? Why sacrifice themselves?

It completely filled Sam's vision now. She couldn't move her head and however far she rolled her eyes she couldn't see even a square inch of red rock. Only blackness.

And then something cold touched her bare arms. Touched and gripped. She let out a scream of sheer surprise, her vow of silence forgotten. Something wet trickled down her arms, and she felt a slurping dampness on her neck, as if someone were giving her a very sloppy love bite. She strained at her gla.s.s-solid bonds only to find that she could move her head. Hey and her arms. And legs! She gave a whoop of surprise as she slid to the bottom of the stalagmite, landing on her b.u.m with her legs splayed out, her trainers mere inches from the fizzing, hissing blackness, which stretched curtain-like across the whole width of the cavern. She watched hypnotised as the rock in the path of the blackness turned to syrupy smoke.

Sam shook her head, rubbed her eyes and scrambled to her feet, desperate to know who or what had rescued her. She was confronted with the sight of one of the frog creatures, wiping mucus from its mouth. It grabbed her and yanked her to her feet. She sailed into the air to land beyond the row of stalagmites.

Looking back, she saw the blackness envelop the Mantises, their shrieks abruptly cut off, leaving silence.

Sam turned away, sickened. Her rescuer was standing, staring at the black wall, mouth gaping. He was like the other frog-things she had encountered, only thinner, with spindly limbs. He wore a tunic of yellow leaves, and brown leggings which left his webbed feet bare. He seemed to be in awe of the blackness.

'Thanks for saving me,' she said.

The creature jumped, as if he hadn't realised Sam was there. He turned his face towards her. It was long, and the yellow hair was shorter than the others she had encountered.

'Can you understand me?' she said, hoping against hope.

But the creature just extended a hand, gesturing her away from the blackness.

They walked across the floor of the cavern, towards the shimmering pink sky-sea at the opposite end. It was swirling and churning like a whirlpool, almost as if aware of the blackness that would consume it within a matter of minutes. Before the sky-sea was parked a green podlike dirigible, about the size of a London bus.

The frog-thing, used to the low gravity, was way ahead of her, while she was fearful of going too fast in case she injured herself on the rocks. She landed inexpertly beside him, steadying herself against the warm pliant flesh of the dirigible.

She turned back and stared across the cavern. The blackness was advancing rapidly now. Soon it would be upon them, if they didn't move.

Her rescuer beckoned to her, and ducked inside the dirigible. With a last look back, Sam followed, climbing through an oval opening which was flanked by membranous green flaps. This led into a narrow podlike cabin, with leaflike seats growing out of the sides. On the curved, ribbed ceiling hung pear-shaped lamps, containing what Sam supposed was bits of green sky-sea. They lent the interior a comforting glow.

Sam sat down on one of the leaf-seats, which moulded itself to her shape. She was glad to find that, this time, no tendrils snaked out to hold her. Her rescuer vanished along the narrow cabin towards the front of the dirigible. She felt tired and hungry. Alive Alive.

Behind her, there was a narrow slit which ran the whole length of the cabin, and Sam peered through this to see outside. As she did so she felt the floor move beneath her and the leaves of her seat take a tighter hold on her legs. They were taking off. They headed straight for the pink sky-sea, plunging straight into the glowing pinkness. This time, she knew what to expect. Its swirling beauty soothed her it was like being inside the bloodstream of a giant creature. For all she knew, it was was the bloodstream of some giant creature. Her eyelids drooped. So many questions. the bloodstream of some giant creature. Her eyelids drooped. So many questions.

A movement behind her. She turned. There was her rescuer, holding out a bowl of some yellowish substance.

Sam took the bowl. What was it? She sniffed. It didn't smell of anything.

She looked up at the creature. He nodded, pointing at the howl, then his mouth.

What the h.e.l.l. She was ravenous, so she tucked in. It tasted a bit like b.u.t.terscotch, only more bitter.

She became so involved in her meal that she forgot all about the creature. When she looked up, he was staring at her, his head c.o.c.ked to one side and then another, his bright-blue eyes reflecting the green glow of the lamps.

Her meal finished, Sam handed the bowl back to her rescuer. His three fingers were long and slender, ending in pearl-white claws. Purple veins stood out below the leaf-green skin.

Now her mouth felt dry, as if the food had soaked up all her saliva. Her rescuer offered her a vessel the size of an egg-cup, containing a dark-green liquid. She drank gratefully. It was odd-tasting, like medicine, the fumes. .h.i.tting the back of her throat. She choked, gagged, and her head swam, eyes watering. Had she been poisoned? A sharp pain, like a headache, and then that sudden falling feeling you get on the edge of sleep. She felt something twist in her mind, and then all pain was gone.

And then she heard a voice inside her head.

Do not be alarmed.

Sam gasped. The voice was a dry whisper that seemed to come from somewhere behind her eyes.

Merely an... infusion. To aid mindspeak.

So, they were telepathic. Or at least this one was. Sam composed herself. Now that she could communicate, there were many thing she wanted to know.

'How did you rescue me?'

Our salivary glands produce enzymes, which we can alter to suit our purposes. To fasten. To unfasten. To dissolve our food.

The creature licked his lips with a dark-purple tongue. Sam forced a smile. 'That's nice.'

He extended a hand towards her.

My name is Itharquell.

Sam took the hand. It was dry, rubbery. 'I'm Sam. Sam Jones. Thanks for rescuing me.'

Itharquell blinked.

I fear I have only postponed your death.

Sam gulped. 'What do you mean?'

We are all going to be consumed by the Blight. There is no stopping it. Soon our Dominion and everything living within will be destroyed.

Chapter Eleven.

Shutdown The Doctor looked narrowly at Professor Nagle. He had a bad feeling about this. 'What do you mean, you can't shut it down?'

'What I said.' Nagle sat down in front of the desk indicating for the Doctor to do the same. The theory is, you set where you want the Zeta Node to be using the locator program I devised. When you activate the generator, it sends a telecongruency beam between the nodes and you should be able to walk through Alpha and be transported instantly to Zeta. I initially set the Zeta Node on the moon, the idea being to send a robotic probe through first. But when I activated, the readings went off the scale. The Zeta Node couldn't be located.'

'Hmm,' said the Doctor, sitting in the swivel chair next to Nagle, gazing thoughtfully at the silver p.r.o.ngs of the generator. The solution could be simple. 'A glitch in your program?'

Nagle glared at him, obviously resenting his questioning of her expertise. 'That was the first thing we checked. There were no errors in the program. The fault seems to be external as though something grabbed the telecongruency beam and yanked it halfway across s.p.a.ce.'

'So, you don't know where the Zeta Node is.' Things were beginning to fall into place. The Zeta Node had obviously ended up on some distant alien world. That was where all the strange creatures were coming from. But how did that explain the abductions, and the violation of the TARDIS? The effect of a telecongruency warp was limited to the two nodes. Unless... 'Oh, no.'

Nagle looked at him sharply, her green eyes wide behind her gla.s.ses. 'What is it?'

'Nothing. I hope.' He had to be sure. 'Anyway, did you send your probe through?'

'Yes we did,' said Nagle. 'And what it brought back, well, wow.'

'Well, what?'

Nagle typed in a string of commands. One of the monitors flickered into life, showing an image of a rocky, crater-pocked surface, picked out in flickering blue. The image was grainy, and the picture flickered badly. The probe moved along the surface for a while, until something scuttled in front of the lens and then the image cut out, to be replaced by swirling static.

The Doctor watched in silence as the thirty-second sequence repeated itself three times. 'Turn it off.'

'We sent through more probes, but they were all destroyed. And then something came through.'