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
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