even an inhabitant of Algo could have plucked a tune from

  the maths. Amy had always admired brainy people who

  could calculate but, in spite of her natural intelligence, which

  made her guesses frequently pretty accurate to the Doctor's

  great delight, formal maths made her head hurt.

  Miggea's astonishing gravitation, which kept her stable

  under conditions which would have long since destroyed

  any other star system, permitted her satellites to orbit in a

  complicated pattern around her, although at a considerable

  distance from their parent star. By similar flukes of mass

  and evolution, she made her eccentric progress through the

  countless variations of the multiverse. How this had come

  to be was equally mysterious. Her inexplicable adaptive

  qualities had hardly been guessed before her settlers, of

  which there were relatively few, discovered to their horror

  that she began quite literally to fade gradually from our

  universe, only to reappear in another universe, then another

  ad infinitum. Those still living in the system were adapted

  descendants of the original descendants. Only a handful of

  newcomers had settled there in recent centuries. That her

  planets had kept their orbit as faithfully as she kept hers was

  another of her qualities still mostly unexplained.

  The Doctor told Amy that the Miggea system had a way

  of orbiting the multiverse and surviving. The only human

  being to come close to formulating a satisfactory theory had

  been an early Guide Sensor, the semi-legendary Lord Renark

  of the Rim, who had led, it was said, a huge percentage of

  the entire human race out of its original universe and into

  another which had then been thought to represent the

  multiverse. Renark had disappeared, as had his expedition.

  Some believed he was still in the black hole, others that the

  entire expedition had been recreated as a computer program

  using an earlier form of nano-technology whose secret had

  also been lost.

  Every few years some optimistic soul would seek to

  recreate Renark's experiment and disappear in turn. If

  there was a way through to what some still called 'Renark's

  multiverse', there was certainly no way back, leading to what

  certain theoretical astrophysicists still referred to as Renark's

  Dilemma. Many a gig of text had been written in the attempt

  to solve that particular puzzle. Some argued that Renark had

  reproduced himself, deliberately or accidentally, on every

  multiversal plane. Others believed he had gone beyond

  the Radius into the black hole itself where he now hung for

  eternity, neither dead nor alive.

  The Ghost Worlds, as the Miggea system had been called

  since the discovery of those singular properties, retained

  their secrets, but there was no doubt at all that they existed

  against most of the present laws of physics. Had they come

  into being in this universe or another? Did they really belong

  to the Second Aether?

  Miggea was on the screens now, magnified so that it

  filled the ship's huge main V, installed for the benefit of

  passengers. Amy bit into an apple which had been freshly

  grown in the Gargantua' s repaired hydroponics, her eyes big

  with astonishment. She had not expected Miggea to be such a

  bright, lustrous blue. The sun was dancing with fiery gasses.

  She could easily believe, from what little she'd seen of it,

  that the Ghost Worlds had been b o m in the so-called Second

  Aether, in the spaces between each plane of the multiverse.

  It sounded crazy until you saw it. Maybe Captain Abberley

  and his Bubbly Boys came from here? She sighed. Now she

  was getting too fanciful. She was overtired.

  As the Gargantua began to manoeuvre into her own

  orbit around Miggea, and the Paine tacked carefully into

  a wider, safer orbit, they heard Captain Snarri's voice as

  he contacted Travel Control on Murphy, giving their call

  signal and destination. At the top right-hand comer of the

  big screen they saw a puzzled pachydermid in a loud red

  and yellow check sweater pop something in his mouth and

  speak in a typical nasal accent. 'Murphy-Ganesh calling. We

  have you registering as an Axil fighter, Gargantua. Can you

  confirm your visual recognition as a G-class tour-liner? Our

  instruments are a bit confused.'

  A line of code began to chatter at the bottom of the screen.

  'Thank you, Gargantua. The last attempt to storm Murphy

  was unfortunately by a whole fleet disguised as a G-class.

  Not a bad try except for the polka-dots. Welcome! Are you

  visiting any particular planet in our system?'

  'Here for the games on Flynn,' the captain replied. 'And

  we've been in a pretty bad storm. Need to make some repairs

  and transfer some of our wounded, if possible. How are you

  off for hospital places? We have three vacuum-bum patients

  and a group of otherwise pretty badly broken-up interior

  injuries. The Paine came to our assistance and helped us with

  some of our injured. We lost a doctor and two radiographers

  in the storm.'

  'We run a rather primitive section down here. Nearest

  sophisticated medical facility is at Cocokojoj in PrimZ, if

  you're able to get that far.'

  'No problem, Murphy. We can put the passengers who

  came for the sports off on Flynn, get over to Coco and be

  back in time to meet you on a rerun. Any idea when you start

  shifting?'

  'Shouldn't be long now, Gargantua. When we come back

  in is a bit harder to predict as you're probably aware. Are you

  sending down tenders?'

  'Two to Murphy. There's another due on Cohan and the

  majority are for Flynn. Can you take yours now?'

  'Give us a couple of hours to prepare, Gargantua. There's

  always the chance that well start shifting before we know it,

  and we need to build a few emergency procedures into our

  receptors. OK?'

  'Go ahead, Murphy. Well wait.'

  Hearing a sound behind her, Amy turned to see that

  Captain Cornelius had joined them on the V. He had discarded

  his papier mache Arlecchino and was wearing the simple

  metal mask which had given him his nickname 'Ironface'.

  Strangely it humanised him more. Amy could see why some

  of the Vs about him called him handsome. He was taller than

  anyone on the ship and exuded the air of self-containment

  she had first noticed about him. He wore the same dark blue

  uniform he had worn when they had first met.

  'Hello, Captain Cornelius. What can we do for you?' The

  Doctor was concentrating on the other screens.

  'Forgive me for interrupting, Doctor.' Cornelius spoke

  softly. 'I'm curious to see Miggea. I've heard so much about

  her over the years but of course it has never been possible for

  my ship to come in so close. She's an impressive star. Shall

  you be going down to Murphy?'

  'We'll wait until we get to Flynn before making any kind

  of landfall. Even then the ship's too big to bring down.' The

>   Doctor smiled. 'Chances are we'd blow Flynn out of the sky

  if we tried. The Gargantua was built in the K.H. Brunner off-

  world yards and like most big ships has never flown through

  an atmosphere. We'll be using tenders to get all the passengers

  down. Has the Paine ever made planet-fall?'

  Cornelius smiled slowly. 'Only in Never-Never Land,

  Doctor.'

  Amy was surprised by this reference. 'I didn't know you

  were a fan of Peter Pan, captain!'

  'I wouldn't say I was a fan exactly. But we took a ship

  many years ago which was carrying a couple of time capsules

  a collector had found on one of Old Earth's neighbours. Not

  only the discs they used but a small player, also. I transferred

  them to my V-files. Part of my personal collection at home.'

  'So "home" isn't your ship?'

  'Let's say the Paine' s one of my homes.' He smiled. 'I doubt

  if Captain Hook himself was anxious to publicise everywhere

  he lived.'

  Amy realised she was dropping her guard. She had to be

  careful. Even on the V-screen Captain Cornelius was proving

  too charming to be trusted.

  After Murphy had taken their remaining wounded, the

  ship began to warm up and turn for the next part of their

  journey to Cohan, where they stopped very briefly before

  continuing on to Flynn. A matter of hours. And there she

  was!

  She did look very Earth-like. Soon they would be standing

  on her surface. Amy began to feel very excited. Flynn had

  been their destination for such a long while and there

  had been so many setbacks along the way, that she had

  begun to feel she would never see the world where the Re-

  Enactment Games were traditionally played. The Terraphiles

  themselves, of course, did not know the world except from

  what they had seen on the V. Where Murphy, O'Brian and

  Cohan had all been terraformed on Eirish themes, Flynn

  had been terraformed to model the English Cotswolds and

  the hobbitoid Shire, with rolling, grassy drumlins, woods,

  lakes and rivers, thatched cottages of butter-coloured stone,

  villages and greens, crooked chimneys blowing friendly

  smoke, all of it resembling a fantasy landscape even more

  comfortably nostalgic than the Peer™ planets.

  Now they neared Flynn, she could see that parts of the

  planet were thickly forested and full of the kind of wildlife

  which had once occupied the countryside where she had

  spent most of her life. Unexpectedly she felt a pang of

  homesickness for the world she had left behind. Why on

  earth should she feel so sad? It wasn't as if she would never

  see her village again.

  Or was it? Bucolic as she looked, Flynn was part of the

  Shifter System - the Ghost Worlds—and the Ghost Worlds

  could be very dangerous indeed. She, the Doctor and the

  Terraphiles would not be the first to ride the Miggea worlds

  on their 'sideways' orbit through the multiverse and never

  return. She had to remind herself that the TARDIS had

  been programmed to rendezvous on Flynn. But what had

  happened to those missing people she had no idea, though

  it was thought they had disembarked on one of billions of

  possible 'planes' and either settled there or perhaps even

  been killed. Amy experienced a rare moment of self-pity. She

  was far too young to die. There was so much more for her to

  see before she returned to the old familiar places! If she ever

  returned. Hadn't the Doctor told her that the dark tide could

  start spreading out - backwards and forwards? Engulfing

  everything that had ever existed or would ever exist in that

  strange, destructive gravity?

  'Pull yourself together, Amy Pond!' she told herself not

  for the first time since she had met the Doctor in her back

  garden some fifty thousand years in the past. And she felt

  the familiar pang, that she might never be able to tell anyone

  about her adventures and all the things she had seen. Maybe

  it was for the best. What did it mean if every single world

  of the multiverse were to die? Never to have been? Never to

  be? That was, after all, logical. She imagined the dark tide

  as a kind of overflowing lake of nothingness which engulfed

  existence and then somehow engulfed itself...

  She became aware of Captain Cornelius still on the V. His

  smile was melancholy, filled with a peculiar longing.

  'Are you looking forward to putting your feet on a real

  planet, captain?' she asked.

  He shook his head regretfully.

  'You're keeping my celestial necklace, I suppose?' She still

  hoped he had only borrowed it.

  He shook his head briefly his eyes still melancholy,

  sardonic, bowed and said: 'I hope to return it next time we

  meet in person. Assuming all our coordinates—' The signal

  faded. He disappeared, replaced by an image of his ship.

  An hour later the PA sounded, warning them to be ready

  for planet-fall. A tremor ran through the Gargantua as the

  monstrous vessel was prepared again for a disembarkation.

  Amy had her bag packed, like the rest, and had suited up for

  safety during their descent. She and the Doctor joined the

  queue for the second tender, which would take the teams

  down to Flynn. The Banning-Cannons were taking the third

  tender. Mrs Banning-Cannon continued to complain about

  her stolen hat but, since she was already wearing one of

  Mr Toni Woni's latest exclusive creations, her protests rang

  a bit hollow. She saw Hari Agincourt throw one final look

  of anguished parting at Flapper and then they were aboard

  Tender 12 and the big airlocks swung shut.

  As they belted themselves into their comfortable seats,

  Amy was sure that she caught a whiff of the sea. She was

  reminded of taking the hovercraft to France. She sniffed

  again. She had not been mistaken. Who was it the Doctor

  had told her about? The aliens who smelled so strongly of

  the sea when they were nervous? She was glad when the

  Doctor sat down beside her. He could be oddly comforting

  at times like this. His eyes twinkled and he was as excited as

  a schoolboy taking his first trip in an aeroplane. He winked

  at her as he buckled up. It seemed years since they had

  boarded the Gargantua and Amy would be glad to set foot on

  natural ground again. Particularly such picturesque ground.

  She wondered what Flynn had originally looked like before

  the terraformers had changed her. Perhaps she had been

  landscaped by the Banning-Cannons or their ancestors?

  Behind her, Bingo Lockesley slid into his seat. 'Jolly

  exciting, what?' He frowned over his buckles and straps and

  eventually got the hang of them. 'We're going to have to play

  awfully well.' He turned to Pom'ik'ik, one of the Tourists'

  best fielders, whose normally yellow scales had turned a faint

  greenish-blue, showing that he was nervous. 'You worrying

  about the games, old boy, or just the trip down?'

  'Actually,' said the Aldebaran, 'I was hoping Miggea

  wouldn't start shiftin
g while we were in transit. Does anyone

  know what happens at a time like that?'

  'I'm not sure anyone's survived to tell us, old man!' And

  Bingo let out a loud laugh indicating something of his own

  nervousness. Then, remembering Amy, he leaned forward

  and patted her shoulder. 'Don't worry, old thing, there are

  plenty of warnings before she starts to move. I've read up

  on the whole process. The tender will be waiting. The reason

  she's still here is because she's somehow protected in her orbit

  through the multiverse. As I understand it, it's to do with the

  equilibrium of her various gravitational fields. I mean, she'd

  look like a wreck if there was any danger, wouldn't she?'

  'All passengers please lock safety harness,' came a robot

  voice over the intercom. Amy settled deeper into her seat,

  thinking again how much like one of those huge new

  international airbuses the ferry was with her two decks. The

  main difference was that there were no windows. The view

  of the outside was shown on a large screen on the seatbacks

  in front of each passenger. There came a sudden throbbing

  sound and an electric tingling sensation. Bot attendants

  began to move up and down the aisles. They seemed to be

  checking on something. Again the robot voice sounded. 'This

  is our second and final message. Will passengers please lock

  safety harness. All passengers not already situated are kindly

  requested to take their places.'

  The pilot's voice came over the intercom. 'Very sorry,

  everyone. We seem to be registering an extra passenger.

  Nothing to worry about. Just a glitch caused by the recent

  storm. Well do a manual count and then well be off.'

  Amy heard a buzz of enquiring voices as the bots rolled

  up and down the aisles checking the numbers until at last the

  pilot's voice came through again. 'No problem. All's well.

  Please prepare for take-off.'

  Seconds later, the ferry to Flynn was casting off smoothly

  from the big passenger ship and turning sluggishly in

  space.

  Amy watched in fascination as the ship fell through blue-

  white clouds into a sky as clear as a lake, then levelled off

  and slowly crossed a range of the same pale green hills she

  had seen on the V-screens. Although much of its colouring

  was artificial, the planet was if anything more beautiful than

  its pictures. Herds of deer looked up as the ship passed and