defying the gravities of a million worlds and riding the winds
   of the distant sky. How she had been able to sail here, how
   she resisted the pull of the black hole in order to perform this
   all-but impossible feat, nobody knew, but it spoke of superb
   spacemanship and an instinct for the multiverse only a few
   possessed.
   They looked around them. Two black and brass boats had
   already landed on the space-field, joining the other beautiful,
   slender space tender steaming, bright brass and silver, in the
   cool, dawn air where high overhead, her sails reefed, lay the
   star clipper. Somehow, the Paine, of all ships, had risked the
   horrors of inter-multiversal space. She had managed to sail
   through the scales of the multiverse and find them, following
   the course of the Ghost System, a feat never performed
   until now. To find a needle in a needle stack. Here were her
   passenger tenders, waiting to take them off. And there before
   the trio of ships stood a tall figure in a navy blue and gold
   uniform whisking off his cap and bowing. Amy wondered
   what his expression might be behind that cold iron mask.
   She imagined he was smiling at their astonishment. Now, at
   least, she understood why he had demanded the necklace
   aboard the Gargantua.
   Two hours later, they were preparing for take-off. By the
   time everyone was settled in their seats Captain Cornelius
   had enjoyed a small demi-shant and a good breakfast and,
   from his seat across from Amy, offered her the celestial
   necklace lying in the flat of his hand and no longer moving.
   She took it gingerly.
   'The vitality will return, don't worry.' He had noticed her
   disappointment. 'That necklace has done a lot of good work.
   And believe me it was mine to give away. It was my map as
   well as my compass. That's how I could find Miggea. It took
   some tricky sailing and I'll admit to you that I was frightened
   we wouldn't make it, with only your celestial necklace to
   lead me to you. I'll explain the rest when we're aboard.' He
   seemed to relish her fresh awareness of what the celestial
   necklace actually was.
   An hour later, in his spacious and comfortably austere
   cabin aboard the Paine, Captain Cornelius explained how the
   necklace had been his. 'A gift from my Diana. She wanted to
   be sure I was here when you needed me. She left it with an
   antiquarian on Venice when she decided it was time to leave,
   presumably for Loondoon. Stolen by Frank/Freddie Force
   when they visited me. They knew what it was, of course.
   There's nothing stupid or uneducated about General Force.
   That's what makes them so dangerous.'
   She had left Ironface the map not to lead him to her but to
   help him find Miggea. Somehow she knew he would play a
   part in the cosmic drama, knew he would either take them
   to Miggea or be there to save them from being marooned in
   Miggea once they had fulfilled their task and used the Bow
   of Diana to shoot the Arrow of Artemis into the heart of the
   multiverse.
   'I have to say, you did a wonderful job, steering your way
   through all those different systems to reach us,' said the
   Doctor, 'even with that map and compass. It's so intricate. To
   calculate all those orbits within orbits demands mathematical
   skills beyond most of us. Wheels within wheels within
   wheels...' He raised his glass in salute. 'We'd have been
   marooned in Miggea for a lifetime if you hadn't worked it
   out. Thanks, captain.'
   Captain Cornelius bowed in acknowledgement. 'Wheels
   within wheels, as you say, Doctor. Shadows of shadows. Self-
   similarity is the key to all as all our actions are reproduced
   throughout the multiverse. Resonances. Echoes...'
   And, as Captain Cornelius observed when he made his
   plans to visit a certain milliner in Old Loondoon, travelling
   as usual under his alias, he would spare Lady Peggy the
   planned punishment. After all, she had actually helped him
   discover his lost Diana and, with W.G. Grace, who knew
   the most about hats and so forth, she would go with him to
   Loondoon to find Diana, or at least perhaps a warm trail.
   'Won't you come with us, Doctor?' Cornelius tapped out
   his pipe in his cupped hand. 'We're natural friends. So much
   in common.'
   'Except I try to hold things together. And you...'
   'Oh, I don't blow stuff up any more. You must know that.
   I'm a reformed individual.'
   They shook hands. And Amy decided to keep the already
   enlivened necklace.
   As the Paine prepared to sail back to its own space-time
   where the Gargantua awaited them, Hari and Flapper became
   increasingly gloomy. Bingo's death, though the worst
   calamity they could imagine, had definitely destroyed their
   anticipated happiness. The Paine began her journey back
   through the multiverse, out of the Second Aether and into
   their home universe. Every few hours saw another sickening
   twist into single reality until, far too soon, they emerged at
   last beneath familiar stars laid against the darkness of normal
   space-time where the Gargantua hung to take them home.
   Now the time of parting drew closer. Flapper no longer
   hid her tears and Hari's back became stiffer and stiffer as
   he prepared for their final moments. There was nothing he
   could offer her. A man had no right to declare his love to a
   woman if he could not pay his own way at the very least.
   Flapper knew that she could not offer Hari any help, having
   no money of her own. Besides, his pride would not let him
   marry if he could not provide for her.
   In the second-class lounge, the night after they were on
   their way, Hari and Flapper held hands over quarter-shants
   of VW and discussed how life might have been so much
   better but for a subtle twist of fate.
   Entering from the first-class deck, Mr and Mrs Banning-
   Cannon nodded to the lovers who each defiantly retained
   a sturdy grip on the other's hand. But when Mr Banning-
   Cannon summoned Hari to his table and Mrs Banning-
   Canning ordered her daughter to the bar, common politeness
   made the couple comply.
   Hari immediately blurted his feelings to the Tiger of the
   Terraforming business.
   'Look here, sir, I'm not going to lie to you, I love your
   daughter but if my hanging around spoils her chances of
   making a decent marriage—'
   'Don't give me that!' declared the planet-master. 'I have
   something to say to you, young Agincourt and I won't be
   interrupted.'
   Hari drew a deep breath and waited for the worst. 'Right,
   sir.'
   'Good. Now you and Lord Robin were the best of friends,
   I take it.'
   'Like brothers, sir. Since we were nippers.'
   'Exactly. And he had no relatives, I'm told, except a distant
   uncle who is a magistrate in your neck of the woods.'
   'That's right, sir. He isn't wealthy, unfortunately; rather
   depends on his stipend...'
   'Yes, yes. Well 
					     					 			, you'll be able to sort all that kind of thing
   out. I was going, as you might be aware, to give Lord Robin
   the deeds to the planet. Lock, stock and barrel.'
   'He'd mentioned something of the sort, sir, yes,'
   'Out of which, I under stand, he was going to give you
   some local land and a title or some such, thus enabling you
   to make a bid - that is, ask me for the hand of my beloved
   daughter, Jane.'
   'Uh umyum,' said Hari.
   'Quite,' said Mr Banning-Cannon. 'Well, in the
   circumstances, and considering I have had a chance to see
   how you go about things and so on - well, sir, I'm going to
   give you what I was going to give young Bingo. But there's
   a condition. You have to take some sort of title - preferably
   the one Bingo can't take now. Say, Hari, Lord Sherwood.
   Earl of Hood or however these things go. I have to admit,'
   said the tycoon dropping his voice, 'I have a motive here. If
   Flapper gets a title, I can't see Mrs Banning-Cannon having
   any further objection to the marriage.'
   'Gosh, sir!' Hari was ecstatic. 'I say!'
   Rather strenuously, he began pumping Mr Banning-
   Cannon's hand.
   Meanwhile, by the bar, Mrs Banning-Cannon was
   confiding something to her daughter. 'In all my days, I have
   not had a young man - or indeed a man of any age - stand up
   to me the way Hari Agincourt stood up to me the other day,
   and I realised that I rather admired his quality of command.
   Therefore, Jane dear, I have thought things over and, if there's
   some sort of decent job your father can find for Mr Agincourt,
   who presumably, by some ancient tradition my husband
   explained but which I don't quite understand, ascends to the
   title, I am prepared to give you both my blessing. As for your
   dowry, well, I have something rather disgraceful to admit
   to you.' She coloured a little and sipped her drink. 'I fear I
   gave in to an old weakness before we went down to Flynn
   to watch the match. I had, I must state in my own defence,
   become horribly bored.'
   'Gosh, ma, I'm not going to have to visit you in jug, am
   I?'
   Mrs Banning-Cannon's normally grim features softened
   into a broad, rather charming smile. 'Good heavens, no! But
   I did break five years of abstinence. I'm afraid I put rather
   a lot down for the Gentleman to win the Tournament. As a
   result I returned to the Gargantua to discover that I had won
   a somewhat handsome sum of bluebacks - several million,
   in fact. And, because I should not profit from breaking my
   promise to Professor Disch, my psychiatrist, you know, I
   intend to bestow the whole amount on you and Hari, so that
   you can start life with a nice little nest egg!'
   'Gosh! Oh, I say, ma, that's awfully good of you!' Flapper
   threw her arms about her mother and embraced her more
   enthusiastically than she had ever embraced her before. 'Oh,
   I say!'
   She looked around her. The bar was filling up. Hari was
   nowhere to be seen. Maybe he'd stepped out for some clear
   oxygen, given his mood. She went to look for Amy.
   Amy was in the reception area standing outside some
   kind of antique monument Flapper didn't remember seeing
   before. A big blue box with archaic writing on it. Amy was
   not in good spirits. Flapper thought perhaps Amy had had
   stronger feelings for Bingo than she realised. Also, of course,
   Amy had been with Bingo when he went over the side.
   'I was wondering where you were,' Amy said. 'We'll be
   leaving soon.'
   'Yes. Four or five days, eh? Of course.'
   'We won't be going with you to the next port. We're leaving
   tonight.'
   'Oh, that's a ship of some kind is it? Gosh. That's a w f u l
   Amy. You're off, then. In that little thing. I say!' A fresh tear
   blossomed in Flapper's left eye.
   'I'm afraid this is the last night I'll be seeing you, Flapper.
   I hope you and Hari can get things sorted...'
   'Oh, don't worry about that. I think we're going to be OK.
   But I'd rather hoped you'd be my maid-of-honour...'
   'You're actually, really, really getting married?! That's
   absolutely marvellous, Flapper!' Amy did that hugging and
   jumping up and down thing girls do to show pleasure.
   'You're the first to know!'
   Hari came beaming out of the bar. 'I was looking for you,
   Flaps. Your pa's proven to be an absolute brick. Your ma, too,
   actually.' And he told her what had transpired.
   When all the hugs and jumps were over, Hari said: 'I ought
   to thank the Doctor. Any idea where he is, Amy?'
   'Well, he's—'
   The door of the TARDIS swung open and the Doctor's
   face peered out at them. His eyes were positively sparkling.
   'Everything ship-shape and Bristol fashion, Jim lad! Ready to
   come aboard?'
   'Aye, aye, captain.' She gave him a mock salute.
   A few minutes later, they stood together in the TARDIS
   while the Doctor fiddled with some old electrical equipment
   complete with big vacuum tubes, an antique microphone
   and a pair of 'head-cans'.
   'Now I understand a bit better how you think,' she said.
   'Who you are.'
   'How's that, Amy Pond?'
   'I think it's because of you being one of a kind,' she said.
   'Yeah? Put your finger on that for a minute, could you?'
   'Well, anyway. I hated Bingo going the way he did. But
   I was glad it was him and not the rest of us. Do you know
   what I mean?'
   'Yup,' said the Doctor. 'Pass me that hammer, would
   you?'
   'So in all these universes there might be more Amy Ponds,
   more - I don't know - Jonathan Rosses and Will Smiths and
   Gabe Byrnes?'
   'Yep. More or less.'
   'And more Doctors?'
   'Ah, well...'
   'You really are the only one?'
   'Time Lord. The Time War got a bit desperate towards the
   end.'
   'But you said our actions were echoed over and over again
   as if to infinity.'
   'But by us. I'm not sure. There are people who take
   the same actions, fulfil, if you like, the same destinies.
   Everywhere, throughout the multiverse there are people
   like us trying to put things right or sometimes just trying to
   stop things getting any worse - echoes of echoes, shadows of
   shadows. Call some archetypes. Jung did. But maybe we're
   all archetypes. Maybe there's no such thing as an original?
   Maybe the multiverse has no original. The World Snake
   eats its own tail. No beginning and no end.' He looked into
   her eyes. He grinned. 'We carry on for ever. Paradox upon
   paradox,'
   'That's a thought,' she said. Then she clapped her hands
   together and looked business-like. 'So! Where are we going?'
   She again gave her attention to the controls.
   'First off, I think we need to get back to your own time,
   don't you?' He smiled. 'Check a few things out. What's the
   scanner showing?'
   Amy peered up at the screen. And there was the Milky
   Way in all her golden, scintillating glory.
					     					 			/>
   'So what do you see?' He was busy with some retro
   switches.
   'Well, it's our galaxy. What else should I be looking at?'
   And then she gasped as the truth dawned on her. 'Oh!
   They've gone! You did it, Doctor! The black tides have gone!'
   She sat down suddenly. 'Oh, wow!'
   'Well, we did it,' he said. 'And Bingo was the true hero.
   Not at all bad, eh, for a gentleman amateur. That's his real
   monument... out there. We can celebrate later with the Bubbly
   Boys and I suspect well see more of Captain Cornelius, too.'
   From somewhere they heard faint funky music. The toot
   of a distant foghorn.
   The Doctor stopped. Rubbing his chin he looked out at
   the galaxy. 'Clean as a whistle, eh? Well, clean as she needs
   to be. We'd best be getting back to base. OK with you? I'm
   expecting an urgent message.' He turned a few knobs and
   flicked a few switches. 'Oh, sweet duroo, how I love you...'
   'What are you doing?' she wanted to know.
   'Something I shouldn't,' he told her. 'It's pretty much
   against all the rules. Physical or metaphysical. But the risks
   had to be - will have to be - taken.'
   'What?' She sat down, more pleased than she could have
   guessed that they were heading for home. Home? She looked
   about her at the strange mixture: alien engineering, intelligent
   and wise. Arrogant and intuitive science, as much magic as
   machine by now. Humane and yet utterly inhuman...
   There came the usual sound of rusty shopping carts being
   dragged over sheets of corrugated tin, and the TARDIS began
   to shudder. The Doctor leaned forward and started to tap out
   a message. 'I'll keep it on "send later". But since you never
   know how the time streams flow...'
   'Who's it to?'
   'Somebody has to do it,' he said, grinning like a wicked
   schoolboy. 'I've always wanted to. Totally against the Laws
   of Time, physical, metaphysical, natural or supernatural.
   There's a Gilbert and Sullivan song in there somewhere. Turn
   tumpety-too.' He bent towards the old microphone. 'Here
   goes - Cling duroo. Cling duroo. Frank/Freddie Force, don't I
   know you? Tom Mix. Tom Mix, Oogalator, babies. No longer got
   the rabies. I love to mix, don't you? To them mean old Roogalator
   blues.. Ooo! Dark tides flowing up the wadi al gloo...' Covering the mike with his hand he turned and winked at her. 'Time
   Lords used to have to go before the Grey Council if they
   started talking to themselves like this. But it worked, didn't
   it, Amy Pond? That's the power of positive Paradox. Without