Between the demons and the Doctor, the samurai's leader seemed close to panic. Chris hoped the other time travellers had found some way out of the village. Who knew what could happen if the Captain got another surprise?

'Neat trick with the breaking sword,' he said.

'Thanks,' said the Doctor. 'Would you like to know how it's done?'

'Yeah.'

'So would I.'

'Now what do we do?'

The Doctor looked up from the fire. 'What do we know about these samurai?'

'Don't ask me any more questions,' said Chris. 'Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it.'

The Doctor's blue eyes raked over him once, and then his gaze fell back to the flames. As though he hadn't found what he was looking for.

Chris lay down on his side, curling up to make the most of the thin heat of the fire. He cushioned his head on his arms and closed his eyes.

The sword sliced into Kame's shoulder He opened his eyes. The Doctor's face was old and sad, watching the thin trail of smoke rising from the firepit. He closed his eyes again.

The sword sliced into Kame's shoulder. The sword held by the samurai in black armour. Captain Hadankyou. Calm face, dark eyes full of hotly denied terror, purple banner behind him, his horse stamping and snorting while the other samurai watched.

All with purple banners, with some kind of geometric pattern on them.

Maybe a stylized flower.

The samurai who had captured them yesterday had worn orange-gold banners with a b.u.t.terfly design repeated three times. So these purple-banner samurai worked for a different daimyo. An enemy lord, or an ally?

And what were the demons they had been running from? Tengu Tengu, those little forest goblins? Pretas Pretas, the hungry ghosts? Oni? Oni? Foreigners? Aliens? Mutant sc.u.m-suckers? Whatever they were, they were enough to scare off a dozen samurai. . . Foreigners? Aliens? Mutant sc.u.m-suckers? Whatever they were, they were enough to scare off a dozen samurai. . .

Hey, that meant the purple samurai probably didn't know about the kami kami up in the shrine. They'd just come here to get away from the demons. up in the shrine. They'd just come here to get away from the demons.

If the two daimyo were enemies, that meant they'd both want the thing.

Whatever it was. If the purple samurai found out about it and reported back, 60 Hekison village could find itself in the middle of a battlefield. h.e.l.l, if the three b.u.t.terfly samurai brought back reinforcements, and found the village full of purple troopers. . .

'We can't let them see the pod,' Chris said.

The Doctor glanced up. 'For the moment, they're more worried about these "demons". . . '

'Only the demons aren't too interested in them. Why haven't they shown up yet?'

'Whatever they are, hopefully they won't show up at all.'

'I hope they do show up,' said Chris. 'After. . . the trouble they've caused.'

'Things are complicated enough as they are,' grumbled the Doctor.

The sword sliced into Kame's shoulder 'He just ran at them,' said Chris, bewildered.

'Like a good samurai.'

'Yeah, but a lousy strategist.'

'According to Nakano Jin'emon, learning military strategy is useless. Don't stop to deliberate: just close your eyes and run at the enemy.'

'That is so dumb,' said Chris. 'Just stupid.'

'You're angry with Kame for dying.'

'Yeah, I guess I am. I was just getting to like him.' Chris shook his head.

'Stupid.'

'But well in accord with bushido bushido. Ideally, the way of the warrior creates elite fighters, deeply spiritual soldiers free from the fear of death.'

'And lots and lots of corpses.'

'Yes. Unfortunately,' said the Doctor, 'so does meticulous planning.'

'Why does bad stuff keep happening?' asked Chris. His voice suddenly sounded like a kid's voice. 'I mean. . . ' The Doctor waited. 'I don't know if I can keep doing this.'

'You froze up,' insisted the Doctor. 'You just had a bad moment. It happens.'

Chris picked at a splinter on the floor. 'Something I want to ask you.'

'You can ask.'

'Where do we go when we die?'

The Doctor looked at him in astonishment. 'What makes you think I know?'

'I just thought that, if anybody knew, you probably would. After six times.

And that was why you weren't scared of dying.'

'It appears, Squire Cwej, that you have a number of mistaken beliefs about me.' The Doctor produced a pencil from his sleeve, glanced at the tip, and rummaged for a pencil sharpener. 'I met a species once who knew. . . '

'Really?'

'Well, everyone claims claims to know.' The Doctor was creating a single, coiling pencil shaving. 'But I think the Ikkaba really did. They weren't telling, though. to know.' The Doctor was creating a single, coiling pencil shaving. 'But I think the Ikkaba really did. They weren't telling, though.

61.They just walked into the fire. You remember the Turtle, you know what it's like.'

'The samurai want want to die?' to die?'

'The idea is not to give death a second thought neither want it nor not want it. And if I haven't made this clear enough yet, regeneration isn't death.

Not total death. Not the genuine article.' He flicked the shaving loose, and it vanished in the flames.

'But if you get a different personality, isn't that like dying? Where do you go?'

The Doctor gave Chris a sideways look that made him wish he hadn't asked.

'I know exactly where I'm going,' he said, and wouldn't say anything more.

Out out out Penelope found herself wishing for the three hundredth time that she had never read The Cask of Arnontillado The Cask of Arnontillado.

At least she was small enough to fit into the trunk without bending. Mr Mintz was positively squashed, his back bent awkwardly. A little light was leaking in through the bamboo; she could see his gla.s.ses as he shrugged, trying to get into a more comfortable position.

Despite the discomfort, Penelope relished the thought of her husband finding out she had been locked in a box with another man. Fortunately, Mr Mintz was being as much a gentleman as circ.u.mstances permitted.

She saw another spot of light as he wriggled down further, trying to see through one of the holes in the trunk. She could see a small section of the hut if she rested her head against the side.

A peasant family was sitting together, speaking quietly. Joel had silenced his translation device, but the trepidation in their voices was unmistakable.

They kept glancing at the trunk. She hoped their courage did not falter.

Once it was dark it would be safe for her and Joel to creep out of their hiding place, but they faced the possibility of being locked in here for the rest of the day, with no way of knowing what was happening in the village or what had become of the Doctor and Chris.

Penelope felt another stab of panic at the prospect of being trapped in this time. She thought she had given adequate thought to the possibility before setting out on her first journey. But, if the truth was known, she had given little thought to anything that day. Anything but escaping her home, escaping her notebooks and journals and correspondence, escaping yet another lecture about her domestic responsibilities.

She had been astonished when the machine, after months of adjustments, calculations and not a little language that would have earned her further hus-62 bandly lectures, abruptly worked.

After that it had all been surprises.

She was fortunate that the future contained people dedicated to the task of looking after stray time travellers!

In less than a hundred years, the world had been transformed. Not beyond all recognition there were still police but the machines! Machines everywhere!

When Mr Mintz had come to rescue her, she had been torn between her desire to escape the authorities and her need to examine the machines more closely. He had refused to pull to the side of the road so that she could examine the mechanism that powered his car car. So she had contented herself with experimenting with the radio radio for the rest of the journey. for the rest of the journey.

His decision to accompany her was a chivalrous one, but now she wished she had not permitted it. Even with the use of Mr Mintz's PowerBook PowerBook, her figures would not be enough to see them home.

If they were trapped in this time and place, it would be the result of her disastrously premature experiment. She did not imagine they would survive long. Through her own impatience, she had escaped one prison only to find herself in another.

She shut her eyes firmly, forcing down the fear. It was as though there was a small voice in the back of her mind, pleading to be let out.

It galled her that the only rescue might be the Doctor. She frowned, pictur-ing him in her mind's eye. There was something behind his patronizing tone and impatience. It was as though he had some urgent, secret mission, and she was an impediment. Interesting.

Something was happening in the hut. Penelope pushed her eye to the tiny hole. Two of the villagers were bringing something inside.

She heard Joel exhale in lieu of exclaiming. It was Kame, the samurai, evidently injured.

The villagers moved around the body, speaking in low voices. With a jolt, Penelope realized the man was dead. With the suicidal courage his caste displayed, she would not have been surprised if he had attacked the whole of the invading force.

The villagers lifted the body. Joel and Penelope looked up at the same moment as something heavy was placed on the lid of the trunk. They looked at each other.

Penelope decided that if she was not released shortly she would begin to scream at the top of her lungs.

Outside, the shouting began.

'Flying heads!'

63.Chris sat up. He had been sitting with his chin cupped in his palm, staring at a wall of the house.

The guards at the door were standing up. 'Flying heads!' shouted someone again. He could hear a commotion outside. Chris got up and went to the door.

There were heads flying through the village. Samurai and peasants were running around as the heads zoomed past huts and houses. Some of them chased people for a few feet before soaring off to skim over the roofs. One was spiralling lazily around a tree trunk.

The Doctor was still busy with the Times Times crossword. 'What is it?' he said, pencilling in an answer. crossword. 'What is it?' he said, pencilling in an answer.

'There's a bunch of heads flying around out there,' said Chris.

'Oh,' said the Doctor. 'What kind?'

A samurai ran into the house, sword drawn. He waved his arms. 'Flying heads!' he shouted, and ran back out.

'You know,' said Chris. 'Just heads. Of the flying variety.'

The Doctor folded away his piece of newspaper and tucked his pencil behind his ear. He walked over to the doorway.

One of the guards turned, noticing that his prisoners were getting restless.

The Doctor told him, 'I just want the answers to two questions. Are these the demons you were, er, escaping?'

'No,' said the samurai. 'Those were tengu tengu these are these are rokoro-kubi rokoro-kubi.'

'Thank you,' said the Doctor. The samurai turned his attention back to the chaos in the village. One head was skimming through a flock of yelling children.

Chris asked, 'What was the other question?'

'An Egyptian deity,' he said. 'Two letters.'

'They look like robots,' said Chris. 'What's a rokoro-kubi rokoro-kubi?'

'A flying head,' said the Doctor. 'A sort of vampire that can detach its head, anyway. You're right, they are robots.'

'Dual spy cameras,' said Chris. 'We're being observed.'

'And not by someone with a sense of subtlety.'

The heads were coming together now, forming a sort of swarm above the central square of the village. They bobbed in a loose cloud, perhaps three dozen of them. When they weren't moving so quickly, it was easy to see that they were spherical drones, metal and plastic faces formed by components and the double lenses.

They buzzed and twittered at one another. Tete a tete,' said the Doctor.

Chris groaned.