Then she rushed at the creature, chopping with the axe just above Fred’s boots. The thing lurched over, and she grabbed at its hand, which came off in her glove. Amelia squealed in disgust, then swallowed hard, and seized the remaining piece of arm, swinging the creature round to use its weight against it, and hurling it downwards with all her might. Then she sent the arm after it, even as the plane lurched and half her supplies fell out too.

  The Doctor watched in dismay as the figure fell from the aircraft. What had happened?

  The TARDIS dived and materialised directly beneath the plummeting figure, outlined sharply against the pale blue of the sky. The figure plopped through the upturned open door of the TARDIS, followed by several clumsy tanks of petroleum tumbling in its wake.

  The Doctor looked on, horrified, as they plunged past him into the depths of the ship and exploded. ‘Do not make me replace the armoire again!’

  There was a second, louder explosion. The Doctor closed his eyes and made a faint moue of disappointment.

  Amelia turned away. She didn’t have the luxury of speculation; she had a plane to land.

  The joystick rattled the teeth in her mouth, but opening the cargo door had slowed the descent further. The spit of land was smaller than she’d hoped: it couldn’t be more than a hundred yards long, a featureless pop of sand in an otherwise vast and empty ocean.

  She could carry on, but there was no land due and she’d lost a lot of fuel when she’d got rid of … whatever Noonan had become. No. She would have to land and take stock and sort everything out. Without a navigator, she could certainly get herself home, but it would be tricky.

  She pulled the plane into circles, gradually descending to give herself the best possible chance of being able to get out on dry land rather than ditching into the sea. Focusing her eyes on the spit, she came down … slowly, slowly … attempted a landing, muffed it and pulled up again.

  The Doctor put off investigating the mess downstairs and settled back to watch the plane instead, admiring the pilot’s skill with the beautiful silver bird. It swooped round in lower and lower parabolas, the vapour trail knotting behind it like weaving as it finally, gently spluttered down, rolling, rolling, all the way to the end of the tiny islet, the wheels coming to a halt mere centimetres from the pale blue waves.

  ‘I say, bravo, bravo,’ he said, quickly landing the TARDIS, bounding out joyfully and applauding as Amelia clambered down from the cockpit, taking off her helmet and frowning. ’Beautiful work.’

  Amelia turned round crossly. If he was a journalist … ‘Who the hell—’

  They both froze. Out of the door the Doctor had carelessly left ajar came a figure – swirling, retching, moving jerkily; burned black yet somehow still slowly progressing.

  ‘Fascinating,’ breathed the Doctor.

  ‘Kill it!’ screamed Amelia. She glanced around for anything to hand, ran back to the plane and grabbed a large tin of fuel. ‘For pity’s sake, let him die!’ She opened the screw top, ran up and hurled it at the figure of Noonan.

  She and the Doctor threw themselves to the ground. By the time she’d uncovered her ears from the almighty blast, and dared to look up, there was clearing smoke, and black marks on the sand … but no sign of the monster that had once been her navigator and her friend.

  She stood up, very, very slowly, looking all around. The spit of sand was about 200 yards long and 50 yards wide. Apart from that, and the ridiculous journalist and his ridiculous airship, there was nothing to be seen but endless water and endless sky and, suddenly, a deep, extraordinary silence. Not a bird’s cry to disturb the peace; not even the faintest lapping against the shore. It was, in its own way, very beautiful.

  ‘So hallo there!’ came the voice.

  ‘I’m not sure she’s going to like you,’ said Yaz, hugging the hot water bottle – which, pleasingly, didn’t appear to go cold – closer to her stomach.

  The Doctor sighed. ‘I know. Do you think she’d have liked me more like this?’

  Yaz nodded wholeheartedly. ‘Of course! You could have shared so much. Two flying women! With their own ships! That would have been amazing!’

  ‘It would have, wouldn’t it?’ The Doctor looked into the middle distance. ‘We could have flown together. Gone anywhere. She was so brave, such a pioneer …’

  Her voice went a little hoarse.

  ‘So of course I managed to completely stuff it up.’

  ‘Don’t you look terrific! Lovely tin can thing! I mean, it has wings and it’s pointy, but you can’t have everything … ’

  Amelia stalked over to the tall character with the bow tie who seemed unable to stop talking. ‘Who the hell are you?’

  ‘Ah. I’m the Doctor. Hello. Such a thrill to meet you, Miss Earhart.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Amelia is fine.’

  ‘Splendid! I really, really like Amelias!’

  ‘Which newspaper are you from?’

  ‘Which newspaper?’ The Doctor considered for a moment. ‘The Daily Planet,’ he announced with confidence. ‘So can you tell me what happened?’

  Amelia walked slowly to where the explosion had happened. Black streaks still ran across the ground. She shook her head in disbelief. ‘No. Noonan … one moment he was … it was like something took him over.’

  The Doctor came up behind her, knelt down and took out a strange flashlight which he proceeded to point at the black traces. The device made a beeping noise, and he immediately jumped up. ‘Stand back,’ he barked.

  Amelia normally never listened to anyone but something in the tone of his voice made her obey, for once. And also what had happened to Noonan was terrifying. There was no point taking unnecessary risks.

  ‘What is it?’ she said.

  ‘Did you touch him?’

  She held up her flying gloves. ‘Only with these.’

  The Doctor glanced up, looked at Amelia and scanned her with his flashlight. ‘OK, then. Good.’

  She took off her goggles and squinted at him. ‘But what …’

  The Doctor heaved a sigh.

  Amelia gave a final glance at the last traces of Noonan, then turned round and headed back to her plane to see if it was damaged. The Doctor walked with her.

  ‘You know where we are?’

  ‘The International Date Line.’

  ‘That’s right. A hairline crack in time.’

  ‘But it’s imaginary!’

  ‘All time is imaginary,’ said the Doctor self-importantly. ‘But some is more imaginary than others.’

  ‘Is it?’ asked Yaz.

  ‘Yes,’ said the Doctor. ‘But I shouldn’t have told her. I was just showing off.’

  Amelia gave him a long hard look. You met more than a few cranks when you were one of the most famous women in the world. ‘Oh, good,’ she said wearily.

  ‘So anyway,’ said the Doctor, bouncing next to her on his long legs. ‘There is a crack. A tiny, hair-thin line. Between one day and the next, or the day after. And it’s here. Good place to slip through undetected.’

  Amelia looked at him. ‘For what to slip through?’

  ‘Well, what did you see?’

  ‘I …’ Amelia took off her flying cap – it was warm – and screwed up her eyes, trying to make sense of it. ‘It’s like … there was a line. A thin purple line. And then it was like he was covered in bugs. Under his skin. But he can’t have been …’

  ‘Forget about what can’t have been,’ said the Doctor.

  ‘Shush, I’m thinking,’ said Amelia.

  The Doctor pursed his lips in slightly hurt silence as Amelia went on.

  ‘It was as if his skin was pulsing, mutating … Could it have been a parasite of some kind? Picked up on Hawaii?’ Amelia blinked and went on. ‘But acting so rapidly … I’ve never seen anything like it before … Perhaps the altitude brought it on, made it develop? But how does it move from host to host? If it kills the victim so quickly …’

  ‘He didn’t die,’ the Doctor pointed out. ‘We had to blow him up.’

  ‘But I saw his eyes … His eyes were dead.’

  ‘They can feed,’ said the Doctor. ‘For a very long time.’

  ‘You know what they are?’

  The Doctor pulled a face. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Did you bring them?’

  ‘No! No, no, no.’ The Doctor shook his head vehemently. ‘They must have found the same loophole I did …’

  ‘Loophole from where?’

  ‘Could be Chriousian … Felp has some pretty nasty bug life.’ He looked at her and then turned round proudly. ‘It wasn’t me. My ship has automatic quarantine!’

  ‘You look like you just walked out of Brooks Brothers,’ said Amelia, narrowing her eyes. ‘How d’ya fly so clean?’

  ‘I won’t stay clean for long,’ said the Doctor. ‘I need to examine your plane.’

  ‘What if I don’t want you anywhere near my plane?’

  ‘What if there’s one of those bugs left?’

  Amelia thought again about Noonan’s blank staring eyes. ‘But you’re a journalist.’

  ‘Exactly!’ said the Doctor gleefully. ‘Excellent with lowlife and things that crawl across the ground!’

  The tyres were burst, and the landing gear needed work but, on the whole, things could have been a lot worse. That was true of the body of the plane, at least. The fuel on the other hand was a different matter. Rather a lot of it had gone. Amelia sighed.

  She looked at the strange man suspiciously. He was crawling on his hands and knees with his flashlight peering into every nook and cranny, turning his head upside down.

  ‘I think,’ he said. ‘I think we might have been lucky. I think your poor friend copped it all.’

  ‘What does your plane run on?’ Amelia said, straightening up and staring through the cabin door at the strange box. It was the least aerodynamic thing she’d ever seen; she really couldn’t work it out at all.

  ‘Um … stuff,’ said the Doctor.

  Amelia folded her arms. Men assuming that she didn’t understand technical terms was one of her least favourite things. ‘Gasoline?’ she asked.

  ‘Noooo! Although I do have a fondue set in there … somewhere …’

  Amelia frowned. ‘What do you run on, then? Is it an airship?’

  ‘Um, kind of.’

  ‘Hydrogen won’t work for me,’ said Amelia to herself. ‘Well, that’s the kiss-off. Noonan lost and my plane ditched.’

  She counted up the number of barrels of gasoline left, then pulled out the map, working out the sums with a pencil. ‘Can’t go forward, can’t go back,’ she said eventually.

  The sun was hot on her back and she was thirsty. There was no fresh water on the islet at all. When she turned round, however, she thought it was a mirage: the Doctor appeared to be drinking a cup of hot tea in a china cup and saucer.

  ‘Tea?’ he said, and irritatingly she felt compelled to agree.

  They sat cross-legged in the sand, Amelia thinking quickly about how to get out of there, the Doctor keeping his eyes on the sand, everywhere. He had a shrewd idea of what the parasites were, and he wasn’t going anywhere until he’d made absolutely sure nothing was still about.

  Amelia regarded the water, as the Doctor disappeared into his ship once more. ‘Is it just me?’ she hollered after him. ‘Or is the tide coming in?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ said the Doctor, reappearing with a fresh pot of tea and, rather disappointingly, for him at least, a packet of bourbons. ‘It does that.’

  Amelia jumped up and turned around. ‘On all sides!’ she said. ‘This island is going to vanish.’

  The Doctor nodded. ‘These things do come and go … ’

  ‘But my plane …’ Amelia swore and bit into the bourbon biscuit. ‘Actually, this is good.’

  ‘No, it’s awful.’ The Doctor hurled his biscuit crossly into the encroaching surf.

  ‘What have you got against bourbons?’ asked Yaz.

  ‘Well, if it’s not obvious, I don’t know how I could possibly explain,’ said the Doctor huffily, suddenly sounding quite unlike herself. Yaz glanced at her, but the Doctor’s face was lost in the past.

  ‘So you have cookies but no gasoline? Oh well. I couldn’t make it alone anyway.’ Amelia slumped down in the sand. ‘Guess that dream is over. Plenty of good ol’ boys back at the USPA will be pleased.’

  The Doctor eyed the plane critically. ‘I expect …’ he said. ‘I expect my ship could tow your ship.’

  Amelia snorted. ‘As if that’s ever happened. Pulled along by some Joe.’ She got up, shook the sand off her jodhpurs and started changing the tyres on the Electra. There wasn’t much point, she knew, but she had to do something.

  The sun shone steadily. Amelia had taken off her heavy jacket under its bright glare. She kept the goggles on. Meanwhile the strange man was pacing the shoreline shining his flashlight. It was distracting.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Just checking,’ said the Doctor. ‘I don’t … What was inside your friend … They’re blooming resilient. Remember the influenza?’

  Amelia sat back on her haunches and nodded. Of course she did. It had wiped out half the world, it felt like. She’d been a nurse in those days, had watched the young men come back from the war, then fade away. She had never forgotten it.

  ‘That. But faster. We can’t risk any of it getting free.’

  ‘So I’d not just be a woman ruining airplanes for men, I’d also destroy the entire world by bringing back a plague.’ She gave him a level look. ‘Quite the headline.’

  ‘You’re changing everything, you know,’ he said gently. ‘You open up the world. Especially for women. For everyone. To travel.’

  ‘I guess you read tea leaves, huh?’ Amelia looked ruefully at the plane. ‘I wanted to change things. So much. But, now …’

  ‘Whether you succeed or not,’ the Doctor began, looking away. Then he stopped. ‘Get back!’

  It was under the chocks of the wheels. About the size of a thumb; purplish, like a writhing bruise. Clearly in its death agonies. Clearly not dead yet.

  The Doctor took out a handkerchief and lifted it. Amelia backed away, disgusted and horrified at the same time. It was beautiful, but …

  ‘Well, hello,’ said the Doctor, examining it carefully. ‘Aren’t you pretty for such a deadly thing …’

  The thing bounced out of his hand and exploded in mid-air.

  ‘What?’

  Amelia was brushing her hands down on her trousers. The stone that had hit the creature had tumbled down to the ground.

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘Put it out of its misery,’ said Amelia.

  The Doctor bent down. The thing was quite dead. He pulled out his flashlight and pressed on it. ‘Losiruz,’ he said. ‘Thought so.’

  ‘The influenza?’

  ‘The influenza, yes,’ said the Doctor sadly. He rummaged in his pocket and brought out a box of matches, trying and failing to light them in the sea breeze. Amelia threw him her zippo. He knelt down, carefully made a small mound for the creature, surrounded by stones, and set it on fire. ‘Just to be safe.’ He stood up respectfully and bowed his head. ‘It’s just an animal, you know. Doing what all animals are designed to do.’

  ‘Survive?’

  ‘Explore,’ said the Doctor, giving her a look.

  The entire sky was pink by the time he had finished examining every grain of sand. The water was lapping right up to their boots; the wheels of the plane were nearly underneath.

  Amelia had counted and recounted the fuel. She had spread out the maps on the sand. It was impossible, and she knew it, and she was going to have to swallow her pride.

  ‘Can you really tow me?’ she said. ‘Just to the nearest port.’

  ‘Sure can,’ said the Doctor. ‘Can untether you in mid air, if you like. You don’t even need to tell them I was here.’

  Amelia stared at him. ‘Tell a lot of lies, do you?’

  ‘Did you really think she could make it? Didn’t you think it would … change the history of the world or something?’

  ‘Not really,’ said the Doctor, looking shifty. ‘It wasn’t a fixed point in time or anything.’

  ‘But she didn’t make it,’ said Yaz.

  ‘No,’ said the Doctor, very slowly. ‘Well, anyway, shall we get back to the others?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Blimey, you’re snappy.’

  ‘Don’t start.’

  ‘Right,’ said the Doctor. ‘Let’s get the Electra tied up.’ He had brought out the hammock, which was strong enough to hold anything.

  Amelia face fell and she felt icy cold all of a sudden. Why had she listened to him? Why had she believed he could take her plane?

  ‘You have a hammock in there? And no gasoline?’

  ‘I’ll stick it on the list,’ grunted the Doctor as he marched over to the plane.

  A larger than normal wave washed over what was left of the tiny spit. Amelia jumped as it splashed her face. ‘This is ridiculous!’ she said, white with fury. ‘You can’t tow a plane with a hammock! It’s crazy!’

  ‘Time to go,’ said the Doctor, just as a much larger wave broke over the other side of the spit. They were both up to their ankles now. ‘No need to panic. It’s Dalrussian filament …’

  Amelia looked around the bright purple sky; the thousand miles of nothing but water in every single direction. ‘Time to go,’ she said, suddenly calm, just as a large wave slapped the other side of the islet. This time, instead of receding, the wave started to pull the sand with it. The plane inexorably started to move and – even though she knew it was irrational, even though she knew it couldn’t help matters – Amelia couldn’t bear it. ‘The Electra!’ she shouted, tearing away.

  ‘No!’ shouted the Doctor. ‘No! Don’t! It’s not safe! Just give me two minutes! Wait!’

  He was tying one end of the hammock to the doorknob of the TARDIS. Amelia turned round, briefly, eyes shining, and looked at him as if this was the single stupidest thing she had ever seen.