PROLOGUE
UNIT Headquarters 1972
The Doctor looked up from his workbench, irritation clear on his face, as the Brigadier marched into the room.
"Would it be at all possible for you to knock occasionally, Brigadier?" the Doctor snapped.
Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart frowned, his moustache twitching. "Sorry to trouble you, Doctor," he said huffily. "I thought I might be able to help, but if you don't want it, I'll leave you to it."
The Doctor sighed, running a hand through his wavy white hair. "No, I'm sorry. It's just that the Daleks have a habit of making me grumpy." He gestured to a lab stool. "Sit down."
Lethbridge-Stewart did that, bringing the object that had been behind his back into sight. He handed it to the exiled Time Lord.
"The clear up squad recovered this from the wreckage of Auderly House. Thought you might find it useful."
The Doctor took the black box from his friend and turned it over in his hands. He seemed mildly surprised to see it.
"I thought this would have winked out of existence when the bomb went off," he commented quietly.
"I don't understand," the Brigadier said. "I thought that box allowed you to travel in time."
The Doctor nodded. "So it does, but the timeline that produced it has been erased from history. So should its technology."
"History? I thought it was from the future?"
"Future history," the Doctor sighed. "One day I must try to explain time travel theory to you, Brigadier."
The Brigadier frowned again. "So, can you use it or not?"
"Not," the Doctor told him, shaking his head. "Even though it somehow survived the destruction of its future, there is no way it could possibly work."
The Doctor reached for a notepad and scribbled a note upon it. He handed the note and the box to Lethbridge-Stewart.
"File that away with all the other scrap you've salvaged from the alien encounters we've been involved in," The Doctor advised. He smiled slightly. "Maybe one day someone will open a museum of alien fragments."
"No need to be facetious, Doctor," the Brigadier commented, turning and leaving the laboratory.
The Doctor chuckled as the doors swung shut, returning to his interrupted work.
LIVING IN THE PLASTIC AGE
UNIT Warehouse 1997
Doctor Sally Arnold looked up from her clipboard to see the tall, balding figure of Lockwood striding towards her along the narrow catwalk. He was frowning, which she had found during their brief association, wasn't unusual.
"Come to give me a hand with the cataloguing you ordered?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at him.
"Nothing so mundane," he replied with the thin lipped smile. "I would like your opinion on something that I found."
"More Auton equipment?"
He shook his head. "Something different entirely. A device with a note from our old friend Doctor John Smith."
Doctor Sal placed her clipboard on the shelf beside her and followed Lockwood.
They made their way down the bare metal stairs to the ground floor. Sal shuddered slightly at the memory of the Autons that had so recently taken control of the Warehouse. They had almost succeeding in bringing the Nestene Consciousness to Earth and destroying mankind utterly after she had accidentally reactivated one of their energy units. The good fortune of their narrow victory was of great relief to her.
A foldaway table had been set up in the centre of an area of floor space. On the table were a number of open boxes from the shelves around. Lockwood picked up an item that looked, at first glance, like an old-fashioned cassette recorder.
"I checked the inventory of the ground floor, looking for anything that Doctor Smith might have dealt with. This intrigued me." He handed the device to Doctor Sal.
The mysterious Doctor John Smith had been a scientific advisor to the British section of UNIT during the 1970's. He had constructed the mechanism that she and Lockwood had used to defeat the Autons just the week before. Now the two of them were back at work, trying to ensure that there were no other nasty surprises laying in wait for the unwary.
Sal turned the device over in her hands. It was black, with a small screen and a row of touch sensitive buttons. Under these was a slider control. A strap attached to the case meant it could be carried over the shoulder.
"Any idea what it's for?"
Lockwood smiled that thin lipped smile again. "The note says it's a time travel device."
Sal's eyes widened. "Time travel is a scientific dream," she told Lockwood. "It's not one I expect to be solved in a warehouse."
"Not even a warehouse full of alien technology?"
She frowned. "Can I see the note?"
Lockwood nodded, handing it to her. She read it over quickly, then looked back of the strange box.
"It says it's a time travel co-ordinator from an alternative future Earth ruled by the Daleks."
"I know," Lockwood sighed. "I have read it too."
She shot him a sour look. "Then why did you show it to me?"
"You're a scientist," he replied. "I wanted your professional opinion. Could it be used for time travel?"
"I would need to study it further," she said distantly. There was a panel on the back. She prised it off with a finger. Inside was a Y shaped glass object. She touched the surface of the glass with her thumb and felt it click into place inside the device.
Immediately, the box in her hands started to hum. The air around her began to shimmer and she felt suddenly dizzy.
"What have you done?" Lockwood demanded, reaching over to her. He placed a hand on the box, trying to take it from her. As he did so, the humming reached a crescendo, hurting their ears.
With a plopping sound Lockwood, Sal and the mysterious box vanished from the ground floor of the Warehouse.
***
Consciousness returned slowly to Sally Arnold.
There was no sound, but that could be because her ears were stuffed with the same cotton wool as her brain. Slowly, she opened her eyes, not quite sure what to expect.
Darkness. She blinked a few times, just to be sure that her eyelids had obeyed the command to open.
Well, two senses hadn't brought her any useable results. At least she still had her sense of touch. She could feel the cold of a concrete floor through her lab coat and normal clothing.
Taste wasn't going to be much help, she decided. And all she could smell was dusty decay, like a room that has been closed for years.
One thing left, she thought. Time to see if she was alone.
"Lockwood?"
Her voice sounded dry and harsh to her own ears. She wasn't sure it carried more than a few feet. But it didn't have to.
"I wondered when you would wake up."
Despite the fact that she had been half expecting him to answer, his cultured tones so close by still made her jump. Her heart racing, she turned to the sound of his voice.
"What happened? Where are we?"
"To answer your first question, I'm not quite sure. To answer your second, we appear to be still inside the Warehouse."
"Warehouse?" Doctor Sal echoed. "Who turned out the lights?"
"I don't know," Lockwood replied. "I think I may have missed that part due to unconsciousness."
Sal ignored his sarcasm. "How do you know we're in the Warehouse? I can't see a damned thing!"
She could almost hear the smug smile in Lockwood's voice. "I have excellent night vision. Now, do you think we should be getting out of here?"
"That's the best idea you've had in a week," she said, smiling.
She felt a hand at her elbow. With the help of Lockwood she rose a little unsteadily to her feet. That was when she realised she still had hold of the device.
"Bring it along," Lockwood said from the darkness, as if reading her thoughts. "It might be useful."
The main roller door seemed to be locked tight, as did the smaller, human sized door beside it. Lockwood found a piece of piping from somewhere and spent ten minutes working on the smaller door, finally forcing it open with a squeal of protesting hinges.
The light from outside was sudden and harsh. Shielding her eyes, Sal allowed them to slowly come to terms with the glare.
She quickly realised something was wrong. The light wasn't like normal daylight. It was blood red and pulsing. There was a background noise to go with it. Both were familiar, but she couldn't immediately pin them down.
Stepping outside, they found evidence of decay. The fence around the complex was broken and sagging, the road beyond cracked and choked with weeds. Over to one side, the gatehouse had almost fallen in on itself.
Lockwood walked across to the parking area. He put his hand onto a rusting hulk of metal that had once been a car.
"My Granada," he said softly, turning to Sal.
"What happened here?" she asked, baffled by the scene around them.
Lockwood fixed her with his steely gaze. "While we were unconscious, the world ended."
Sal looked at him as if he were mad. "What? How can that have happened? It's crazy!"
"Look around you," Lockwood suggested, indicating the changed world. "The evidence is staring you in the face. You're supposed to be a scientist. I thought you dealt in improbable things every day."
"Well, yes, but this is different. How long could we possibly have been unconscious?"
Lockwood shrugged. "I think the question you should be asking is how far forward did Doctor Smith's little box of tricks bring us."
As the full extent of what he was saying dawned on her, Sal looked down at the box in her hands. Then she looked up again at her companion.
"Are you saying we've travelled in time?"
"It does seem to be the only logical explanation for all this." Again he gazed around at the ruin and decay that surrounded them.
Doctor Sal followed his gaze, taking in once again the cracked road, the crumbling car and the pulsing light in the sky. Then she realised why the light seemed familiar.
"It's the same as one of those Nestene energy spheres!" she exclaimed.
Lockwood nodded, smiling at her as a teacher would to a prized pupil. "I wondered when you would notice. The background hum too. Seems while we've been away, the Nestene have moved in full time." He looked at her over the top of his spectacles. "What does the box of tricks say now?"
Sal looked at the screen on the box. It was blank. She poked experimentally at the controls, but nothing happened. "It's dead," she said, frowning.
"We need time to check it over, see how we're going to get back to our own time." He gazed off into the distance. "Whenever that is."
Sal shuddered. "What do we do now?"
Lockwood shrugged. "I suggest we find somewhere to take stock. Somewhere safe we can plan our next move."
"Anywhere in mind?"
"Yes," he smiled. "My office."
***
The headquarters of the UNIT Containment Team was just five miles away from the Warehouse. But when you have no access to motorised transport and an uneven surface to walk on, it seemed a whole lot further.
Though she considered herself to be fit, Sal was more than happy when the large, ivy clad building loomed into view over the tops of withered hedges. Then she looked closer and saw that the old house seemed to be falling down.
Lockwood had noticed it too. "Seems the old place has gone down hill rather while we've been away," he commented. "I'll have to see if we can get the cleaners in."
Sal glared at him. "Do you have to be so flippant?"
He looked down at her over the top of his spectacles. "Why not? I'm trying to keep your spirits up with humour. I thought you might be grateful for something to take your mind off our current predicament."
"Well, seeing as you put it like that," she replied. "But there's no need to keep up an act for my sake."
"Noted for future reference," he said calmly.
By now they had arrived at the main gate. The barrier was open, drooping on long disused hinges. It looked like the slightest pressure would cause it to crumble to dust.
They moved cautiously now, though they hadn't seen a living soul during their long trek. Not even an Auton.
Sal was suddenly conscious of how thirsty she was. She rubbed at her throat with her right hand, hoping the feeling would go away.
"I'm not sure what sort of food or drink there might be, or if any of it is safe to consume," Lockwood told her as he stepped through the arch of the missing front door.
Following carefully, Sal wondered if he really was capable of reading minds.
Inside the building was similar devastation to outside. Smashed equipment, furniture and fittings littered the floor. Paper was strewn everywhere, curled and yellowed over time. Natural litter, leaves and twigs mostly, joined the man made junk, presumably blown in through the missing door.
Out of the corner of her eye, Sal saw something move. She turned slowly, tapping Lockwood on the back as she did so. He turned, looking annoyed, but she pointed and pressed a finger to her lips.
In the corner, a discarded military jacket was moving slightly. Grasping a mouldy umbrella from the floor, Lockwood advanced carefully, using the tip of the umbrella to lift a corner of the jacket free.
A brown shape exploded into motion, dashing between his legs and heading straight for Sal. She let out an involuntary cry of alarm as the rat brushed past her foot and continued on out of the front door.
Trying to get her heart rate back under control, she glared at Lockwood, who simply shrugged.
"Rats can live through almost anything," he told her. "Rather like cockroaches."
"Nice to know some of Earth's fauna survives," she replied, calmer now. "But have any humans made it?"
Lockwood was raising his arms over his head. "From the angry looking military types behind you, I would say some have indeed survived."
Sal turned to see three scrawny men with guns and hungry expressions standing in the hallway. She followed Lockwood's example and raised her hands in surrender.
***
Lockwood and Sal, their hands on their heads, were prodded at gunpoint down a long flight of stone steps into a musty old cellar. One of the soldiers, who had remained silent the whole time, walked over to a wall and hit it three times with the butt of his rifle. A section of the wall swivelled outwards with barely a sound.
The other two soldiers pushed their guns into the prisoner's backs and herded them into the opening. The third soldier followed and the wall slid back into place.
"Did you know about that?" Sal whispered to Lockwood as they were marched down a metal corridor.
"Oh yes. Secret doorway to an underground bunker. Built to withstand a nuclear strike. Has a fully functional command centre and everything."
Sal had only been with the Containment Team for a week and was barely finding her way around the main building. It was slightly creepy knowing that while she was settling into her new office and work routine, there was all this going on under her feet.
There was a large pressure door at the end of the metal corridor. A guard beside it saw them coming and spun the locking wheel. He heaved the door open and the prisoner and escort party stepped through.
Inside it was little better than the building above. Equipment was lying around in a clutter, clothing left around in piles. Discarded papers littered the floor and dust was thick on every surface.
"It's no good, I'm sacking the cleaning staff when I get back," Lockwood commented. This time Sal appreciated his attempt at humour.
A man had been standing hunched over a console when they had been brought in. At the sound of Lockwood's voice, he turned towards the prisoners.
"Lockwood?" he asked, his voice catching in his throat.
"Yes, that's right. How did you know...?"
Lockwood's voice trailed off as he peered closer. The man was familiar. Older, but definitely familiar. Could it really be?
"Ramsey?"
The man smiled. "So you do remember."
"Of course I remember, Sergeant Ramsey." Lockwood stepped forward, hand extended.
He wasn't expecting the fist that Ramsey drove into his stomach. Wheezing for breath, Lockwood sank to his knees.
"James!" cried Sal. "There was no need for that!" She rushed to Lockwood's side, helping him to regain his feet.
"There was every need," James Ramsey declared, advancing towards them. "Where were you, eh? Where were you when the Autons came back? When they took the world from us as easily as taking a toy from a child? Where?"
The last word was a shout at extreme close range. Lockwood raised his hands.
"Hold it, Ramsey. Use your head. Haven't you noticed anything? Do we look any different than when you last saw us?"
Despite his boiling anger, Ramsey listened to what his former superior was saying. He looked the two of them over. Lockwood was right. They didn't look any different from the last time he had seen them. If his memory was correct, they were even wearing the same clothes.
"How? How can you not look any older?" Ramsey wondered aloud.
Lockwood cleared his throat. "This may sound absurd, but I believe we have travelled in time. How many years have passed since you last saw the two of us?"
Ramsey looked down at his scuffed boots, then back up into Lockwood's piercing eyes. "Twenty five years."
***
Sal still found it hard to believe that the bitter, grey haired man before them was the same dashing young Sergeant she had first met a little over a week ago. Despite the fact that they looked similar, they were more like father and son than different aspects of the same man.
The three of them were sat around a hastily erected conference table, cleared of the rubbish it had accumulated in who knew how long.
"When did the Autons return?" Lockwood asked softly.
"Two years after the two of you vanished," Ramsey told them. "You ordered some retained for experimentation. Someone broke into the Warehouse and stole them. A few weeks later communications were cut off between the mainland and an island in the English Channel. A few days after that, Autons started walking out of the sea, all along the Southern coastline. We were powerless to stop them.
"They brought seeds with them. The seeds rooted and grew into huge monstrous creatures, bigger than houses, with tentacles. They swept humanity aside like we were insects.
"The British Isles fell to the Nestene within a week. Europe took them a little longer. Then they were conquering Africa and America. Within six months of the theft from the Warehouse, the whole world was under the control of the Nestene."
"But there is still some resistance," Sal said, indicating the room around them.
"Resistance?" Ramsey echoed. "We're lucky to survive, let alone resist. We put up the best fight we could, but they're indestructible. Nothing we have will even scratch them."
A gloomy silence descended over the three. Ramsey looked at the pair of them, his eyes full of questions.
"I suppose you want to know how we got here," Sal said.
Ramsey half smiled. "That would make an interesting story."
Sal glanced across at Lockwood, but he was sitting there, his eyes half closed, seemingly deep in thought. Or asleep. Sighing, Sal told Ramsey their story.
When she had finished, Ramsey didn't say anything for over a minute. Then he whistled.
"That's quite a tale, Doctor Sal."
"And it's all true!" she insisted. "Isn't it, Lockwood?"
Lockwood was still sitting there silently. At the sound of her voice, his eyes snapped open with a burning intensity.
"I think I know where there are weapons that might put more than a scratch on an Auton," he said with a slight smile.
"What? Where?" Ramsey demanded.
"Back at the Warehouse. It didn't look to me when we woke up there that it had been ransacked. They should be where we left them."
"Left what?" Sal wanted to know. She looked completely confused.
Lockwood sighed. "Remember yesterday, or at least yesterday plus twenty five years. The inventory. Cyber guns. You mentioned them to me."
Sal's face brightened. "So I did," she replied. "Do you think they'll work after all this time?"
"Only one way to find out." He turned to Ramsey. "Can you spare enough men to go back with us?"
"If it gives us a fighting chance, of course I can. Sir."
Lockwood smiled at the title and shook Ramsey by the hand.
***
At the third time of asking, the Land Rover stuttered into life. Ramsey grinned at Lockwood and Sal. "All that hard work was worth it after all!"
The three of them, along with one of the men that had found them in the main building, climbed into the vehicle. Another of the soldiers opened the doors of the garage and the Land Rover roared out into the fading, pulsing daylight.
"We cannibalised each one as it broke down," Ramsey told them as they turned out onto the road leading to the Warehouse. "We started with six. Now we just have this one left."
"A good job you were able to keep some petrol for it," Lockwood commented.
Ramsey grimaced. "Not much," he replied. "There's just half a tank left. Good job we're not going far."
"What about the Nestene?" Sal asked. "Will they know you're on the road?"
"We don't see many patrols round here these days," Ramsey said as they swerved to avoid a section of the road that had been forced up by a tree root. "They're content that we're almost a spent force."
"Unless of course we equip you with those guns," Lockwood smiled. "Then they'll have to take notice."
Sal wasn't sure that was such a good thing, but kept silent.
***
The journey to the Warehouse passed without incident. The Land Rover pulled up next to the wreckage of Lockwood's Granada.
"So, what did you think happened to us, when we disappeared?" Sal asked Ramsey as they entered the building, each now with a torch in their hand.
"Well, there was talk..." Ramsey trailed off, clearly embarrassed.
"Go on," Sal prompted. "What sort of talk?"
Ramsey sighed. "Some of the lads suggested that the two of you had run off together."
For a moment there was silence. Then Sal started laughing. Lockwood looked very disapproving at both her and Ramsey.
"Sorry, sir," Ramsey said sheepishly.
Sal had finally stopped laughing. She looked at Lockwood's steely gaze. "Oh, come on! Don't you find the idea laughably ridiculous?"
Lockwood snorted. "It's not that impossible. I've been told I would make quite a catch."
"Who by? A blind fisherman?" she shot back.
Lockwood turned away. "I thought we had work to do," he said as he stormed off.
Ramsey pulled a face. "I see twenty five years hasn't mellowed him."
***
Sal worked her way along the metal gantry, looking for the place she had found the box with the Cyber guns. It should be here somewhere, she thought. It was only yesterday, after all.
Or was it twenty five years ago? She hadn't given it much thought, but what if they couldn't get back? Or what if they could, armed with foreknowledge? Would they change history, create a paradox?
She knew one thing. She didn't like this world and if there was any chance of getting that time travel box working again, she was going to take it.
Sal was so busy turning these thoughts around in her head that she almost missed the box she was looking for. She grinned as she pulled it off the shelf and opened it. Just as she had left them, however long ago. Four Cyber guns. Now all they needed was a test target.
"I've got them!" she called, bounding down the stairs to the ground floor. Silence greeted her.
"Lockwood? Ramsey?" She paused. What was the other guy's name? Oh yes. "Hutchison?"
Again she got no reply. She looked around nervously, her torch throwing grotesque shadows along the stacks of crates and boxes. She shivered.
She screamed when the hand landed on her shoulder. She spun around, one of the Cyber guns in her hand, ready to fire.
"Ah, good, you found them," Lockwood said, smiling.
Sal punched him in the chest, watching with satisfaction as he winced. "I could have blown your head off, you idiot!"
"I doubt it," he replied mildly. "It's pointing the wrong way. You'd be more likely to drill a neat hole in your own forehead."
Sheepishly, she turned the gun round. Lockwood carefully moved it away from where it was now pointed at his chest.
"Ramsey," he bellowed. "We have them!"
Sal flinched. "Could you try that a little louder? I think the Auton patrol in the Scottish Borders might have missed it."
Ramsey and Hutchison came jogging out of different aisles. They approached Sal and Lockwood.
"No signs of recent Auton activity," Ramsey reported.
"Good," Lockwood said. He took the box with the guns from Sal. "I think we should get back the HQ now, don't you?"
"Yes, sir," Ramsey replied, snapping off a salute.
***
Outside, darkness had fallen. This came as something of a relief to Sal, as at least she didn't have to put up with the pulsating light of the Auton world. However, even in the dark, the background hum persisted.
Hutchison was walking in front, as he was set to drive them back. Sal followed behind, with Lockwood carrying the box and Ramsey bringing up the rear.
The shot, when it came, caused flakes of decaying tarmac to fly around Hutchison's feet.
Out of the darkness loomed Autons, their hands hinged down to reveal the guns in their wrists. The lead Auton fired again.
"To the Land Rover!" yelled Ramsey, as Lockwood passed him a gun. Sal found one pressed into her hand as well.
"Remember to aim it the right way," Lockwood advised as they all sprinted for their transport.
Hutchison had slid behind the wheel and was trying to start the engine. It spluttered and died. He tried again.
Sal and Lockwood took up position, using his damaged car as cover. Seeing an opportunity, Sal fired.
The brilliant white beam of energy lanced out, lighting up its target with clinical efficiency. The Auton fell, a hole drilled through its chest.
"Good shooting," Lockwood praised as he downed one of the advancing horde himself. Behind them, Ramsey was making his shots count as well.
But as they shot down one Auton, another two seemed to take its place. It wouldn't take long before they were completely overwhelmed.
The throaty roar of the Land Rover engine was a welcome sound to their ears. Giving covering fire, Lockwood pushed Sal towards the vehicle. She scrambled into the passenger seat, returning the favour while he and Ramsey tumbled into the back.
Hutchison crunched the gears into reverse and the Land Rover swung around in a tight arc. He snapped on the headlights, outlining the Autons in stark whiteness.
Standing up in the back, Lockwood and Ramsey continued to fire their Cyber guns, taking out as many of the enemy as they could. Sal made her contribution too from the front seat.
The vehicle roared through the gap made in the Auton lines, Hutchison spinning the wheel like a Formula One driver as they hurtled out of the gateway and onto the open road.
A raged cheer went up as they left the Warehouse and the Autons behind. Lockwood and Ramsey settled into the back and Sal relaxed into her seat.
So it was a shock when two Autons loomed out of the darkness, standing in the middle of the road.
The only one to react quickly enough was Hutchison. Instead of swerving or braking, he pushed down hard on the accelerator. Before the Autons could fire their guns, the Land Rover had smashed them aside, leaving the plastic men to fall into the choked ditches beside the road.
"Is that all of them now?" Sal wondered.
"I hope so," Lockwood replied from the back. "I was hoping for an uneventful ride home."
***
The rest of the journey was indeed uneventful. The Land Rover coasted into its garage and the door was quickly pulled down. Ramsey and his party headed down to the control bunker in silence. Only when they were safe inside the pressure door did they speak again.
"Talk about close shaves!" Sal exclaimed.
"I would have thought you were getting used to those by now," Lockwood said, smiling slightly.
Ramsey was examining the guns under the stark lighting. "These certainly made short work of the Autons."
Lockwood nodded. "More alien technology. I'm sure the Cybermen would be ecstatic that they had been able to help us here today."
Sal had drifted over to the cleared section of a workbench where she had left the box that had brought them here. She reached into the pocket of her lab coat, which she had left hung over a chair when they went back to the Warehouse. From the pocket she produced a set of small tools, which she used to begin dismantling the box.
Lockwood was talking to Ramsey as the soldier continued to examine the gun. "How have you managed for food and water? I'm sure the Nestene would have cut off any supplies it didn't need."
Ramsey grinned. "We haven't had clean water for years. At least, not drinkable water. What we do is raid off licences and big houses. We have a storeroom full of wine and whisky. It keeps us going."
Lockwood marvelled at the ingenuity of the solution. "And food?"
"Well, we're not so lucky in that department. Processed food wouldn't last twenty-three years, so we have to send hunting parties to the surface. We hunt and kill as much wildlife as we can, then clean it and freeze it. It's not as plentiful as the drink, but we have enough to last a while."
"And the power supply? Are you running all this off the solar cell on the roof?"
Ramsey nodded. "That's not operating at full capacity these days, given the poor light outside which you've already seen. But again, we have enough to keep us running for some time yet."
They were interrupted by a shout from Sal. "Lockwood, I think you should see this."
He moved to her side and peered over her shoulder. "Ramsey has everything worked out to keep this place running for months," he told her. "Now, what have you found?"
She smiled up at him. "I think I can make this work again. The problem was as simple as a loose wire. I've soldered it back into place. All I need to do is put it back together and I think we can go home."
"You think?"
"Well, I'll need to figure out the controls, but that shouldn't be too difficult now we have power back."
Lockwood sat down next to her. "Wouldn't our going home create a paradox?"
Sal shrugged. "If it gets us home, would that matter?"
"You're the scientist, you tell me. What would be best for the world, our staying here and fighting a lost cause or going back to our own time and changing this future, if we can?"
"We must go back," Sal insisted. "You've seen what this world is like, what will happen to our world if the Nestene get their foothold. Wouldn't you want to go back, try and prevent this future from happening?"
"We could be condemning every person left alive in this time," he told her. He placed a fatherly hand on her shoulder. "Do we have that right?"
Ramsey had been standing nearby, listening to their conversation. Now he made his feelings known.
"You must go back. Do anything you can to prevent this world from coming into being. Keep the Nestene out."
Lockwood looked at him over the top of his spectacles. "I never had you down as the type to listen at keyholes, Sergeant Ramsey."
Ramsey ignored the comment. He placed his hands on the table and leaned towards them.
"This world of ours is doomed. It would be better for all of us if it had never been created. Go back. Stop them from destroying the world!"
Lockwood looked at Sal. Then back at Ramsey, fierce determination burning in his eyes. He sighed.
"Looks like we're going home." He smiled at his two friends. Then he turned a steely gaze on Sal. "Well, come along Doctor, get to work!"
She batted him on the arm in mock anger, but did as he said anyway.
***
It seemed that hardly a minute had passed when Hutchison poked his head round the door. It was actually more like an hour.
"Sir, the Autons have arrived! They're at the secret door!"
Ramsey's head snapped around. His expression was grim. "You and Martin hold the line as long as you can," he ordered. He threw two of the Cyber guns over to Hutchison. "Use these. We've proved they work."
Hutchison caught the guns and nodded his understanding. He left the room as quickly as he had entered it.
"Looks like our time grows short," Lockwood commented. He glanced over at Sal. "Any luck?"
She frowned at the box in her hands. "I think I've figured out the basic controls, but I'm still not sure about getting an exact fix on when we left." She looked up at Ramsey. "What's the date?"
Ramsey looked blank for a few moments. "I'm not sure. There's not been much need to keep track of days recently. Christmas, Easter, St George's Day, they're all much the same under the Nestene."
"Isn't there any way to calculate it?" Lockwood asked him.
The Sergeant began to rummage through some papers, obviously looking for something. When he grasped one in triumph, Sal was surprised. It was a wonder he could find anything amid the clutter of the room.
Ramsey looked at the paper, then closed his eyes, his mouth moving slightly, though no sound was coming out. Then he opened his eyes and smiled.
"September 1st," he announced.
Lockwood looked dubious. "Are you sure?"
Ramsey nodded. "September 1st 2022. I'm positive."
All heads turned at the sound of gunfire from outside. The whine of the Cyber guns was joined by the percussive sounds of Auton fire.
Lockwood looked over at Sal. "Now would be a good time to test your theory," he suggested.
She was already typing information into the small keypad that she had found hidden behind a panel under the screen.
The rattle of gunfire was getting closer. Hutchison and one of the other men backed into the room, Cyber guns blazing.
"There are too many of them," Hutchison shouted. "We can't hold them off!"
Ramsey dashed forward and pushed the door closed, spinning the locking wheel furiously. Hutchison and Martin stood gasping for air.
"It won't hold them for long," Ramsey announced to the room as a whole.
"Nearly there," Sal shouted from where she was working.
Lockwood joined Ramsey and his men. He passed the Sergeant a Cyber gun, taking one for himself as well.
"Just like old times, eh Ramsey?" he asked with a slight smile.
Ramsey grinned, despite the situation. "That it is sir. It's good to have you back, even if it isn't for long."
Before Lockwood could reply, the pressure door was blown inwards by a massive blast. As smoke cleared from the hole it had left, two Autons appeared.
Hutchison and Martin blasted them down, but others swiftly took their place. Martin fell to a well-placed shot, but Ramsey himself blasted the Auton that killed his colleague.
"Ready!" Sal yelled from the table, rising and looking for Lockwood.
"Go!" Ramsey ordered his superior. "We'll cover your escape."
"I'm sorry it came to this Ramsey," Lockwood said as he went over to join Sal.
"Just make sure you change this," Ramsey called back as he blasted down another Auton.
The box in Sal's hands was already humming and the air around her was shimmering. Lockwood reached out and grasped her hands and the dizzying sensation overtook them again.
Before the effects of the time distortion claimed them totally, Lockwood saw Ramsey shot down by an Auton. Then all was blackness.
***
This is getting to be a habit, Sal thought as she awoke to darkness. Once again hearing brought nothing new and taste wasn't an option. Touch told her she was again lying upon a cold surface. And this time there wasn't even a smell.
Well, this isn't getting me anywhere, she thought. Time to speak up.
"Lockwood?"
"You were expecting someone else?"
She cursed under her breath. How did he always manage to wake up before she did? She might be curious but she wasn't about to ask him.
"I suppose your superior night vision can tell you where we are?" she inquired with just a hint of sarcasm.
"Of course," he replied. "We're exactly where we left from."
"The Warehouse?"
She heard him sigh in the darkness. "No, the bunker under the main building."
Sal nodded, assuming Lockwood could see that too. It made sense. That was where they had been when the box had transported them.
Harsh white light flooded the control room. Squinting, Sal saw Lockwood standing beside the light switch.
"I think it's time we were making a move, don't you?"
Scrambling to her feet, she followed him through the pressure door.
***
"When do you think we are?" Sal asked as they climbed the cellar stairs to the ground floor.
"When did you programme your little box for?" he inquired.
"Well, I thought I set it for the day we left."
"Then unless you set it wrong, that's when we are now," he responded with that smug, superior air of his.
Sal bit back the remark she was about to aim at him as he opened the door at the top of the cellar, leading out into the main hallway of the Containment Team Headquarters.
As Lockwood held the door open for Sal, Sergeant Ramsey walked past. He raised an eyebrow at the pair of them leaving the cellar.
"It's not what you think," Sal told him, though she knew from the look on his face that he would never believe her.
"I didn't think anything," Ramsey said, moving on with a smirk on his face.
Sal scowled after him. "I think I preferred him as a bitter old man."
Lockwood smiled slightly. "I know what you mean. Now, shall we go to my office and confirm our destination?"
***
Sal heaved a sigh of relief when she saw the calendar on Lockwood's desk. In total, they had probably been gone three hours.
Smiling, she threw the box down on his desk and dropped herself into the comfortable swivel chair. Lockwood looked over the top of his spectacles at her, mild disapproval in his eyes.
"I suppose you're going to fire me now," she said, a worried look crossing her face.
"Why would I want to do that? Apart from the fact you're sitting in my chair."
"Because that's twice my curiosity has nearly got us killed in a little over a week."
Lockwood waved a dismissive hand towards her. "Nonsense. You have an inquiring mind. No better or worse than any other scientist." He smiled. "Anyway," he continued, "it's a lot safer if you screw up under my supervision than elsewhere."
"Thanks!" she replied, though her tone said she didn't mean it.
Before either could say anything further, the box on the desk, the box that had caused all their problems, decided to explode in a shower of sparks and noise.
Sal shot backwards in Lockwood's chair, away from the desk. He covered his eyes. After a few seconds, the small fire the box had started began to die out.
Approaching the desk carefully, Sal and Lockwood looked at the smoking time travel device. While it hadn't been totally destroyed, it certainly wasn't going anywhere for a while.
"Well," Sal said, meeting Lockwood's eyes, "no more time travelling for us then. At least not in the near future," she added with a slight smile.
Lockwood nodded. "No matter. We'll keep our promise to Ramsey. We must prevent that future from happening. We must stop the Nestene seizing control of Earth."
