Title: Beyond the Sea

Author: E.A. Week

E-mail: eaweek at hotmail-dot-com

Summary: For most of her young life, Jules Paxton's world had revolved around football. That all changed the day a loony git in a blue box crash-landed in her mum's garden. First of three chapters.

Category: Doctor Who. Slight crossover with the movie Bend it Like Beckham.

Distribution: Feel free to link this story to any Doctor Who or fanfic site, or distribute on a mailing list, but please drop me at least a brief e-mail and let me know you've done this.

Feedback: Letters of comment are always welcome! Loved it? Hated it? Send me an email and let me know why!

Disclaimers: Copyrights to all characters in this story belong to their respective creators, production companies, and studios. I'm just borrowing them, honest! The story title is stolen from the song written by Charles Trenet and Jack Lawrence. The tile for Part I is stolen from Sinéad Lohan.

Story rating: This story is rated M for language, sexuality, and adult themes.

Possible spoilers: This story takes place after the fourth season of the new Doctor Who series.

"The cure for anything is salt water—sweat, tears, and the sea."

—Isak Dinesen

Part I

No Mermaid

The loud mechanical noises began as soon as Jules put her key in the lock. Startled, she looked around the residential street, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. She unlocked the front door, dropping her bag and hurrying into the house.

"Mum? Dad? What's that racket?" She strode through the dining room and opened the French windows that led out into the garden. Belatedly she remembered her parents had gone to visit Aunt Clemente, who'd just been discharged from hospital after a nasty bout of gallstones.

The noise was even louder out here, an indescribable cacophony of groaning, grinding, and scraping, all overlaid with a high-pitched sonic whine that made Jules clamp her hands over her ears. She looked up at the sky, half-expecting to see a Virgin Atlantic airbus come crashing down on the neighborhood. But the noise didn't sound quite like an airplane—more like a Tyrannosaurus rex being dragged in chains up a slab of concrete.

Jules blinked. Out of nowhere—literally—appeared a blur of cobalt blue, which resolved into the shape of a tall box, spinning about madly, like a top. The thing hovered in midair for a split second before veering to one side and smashing into Paula's rose trellis. Crack! The arch of white latticed woodwork fell over onto its side, and the blue object came to a halt in the grass.

Sputtering, Jules charged across the terrace and down the stone steps. The box had translucent windows up top, and over the two doors were the words POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX. A placard to the left read, POLICE TELEPHONE, and beneath that, FREE FOR USE OF PUBLIC. Jules had seen something like it once, in a museum.

The door popped open, and Jules leapt back, body tense. A man in a pinstriped brown suit stood there, squinting into the sunlight.

"Oh, hullo," he said, expression somewhere between vague and annoyed. He slapped the outside of the wooden blue box. "What's wrong, old girl? Got a bit of indigestion?"

Jules could only stand there sputtering as the man looked up at the sky.

"Where is this?" he inquired of no-one in particular.

"Wh—it's my mum's garden, and look what you just did to her roses! You bloody git—who the hell are you, and what're you doing? What's that—get that sodding box out of here!"

The man stared at Jules, as if just now properly registering her presence. "London?"

"It's bleedin' Hounslow, innit?" she yelled, progressing from aggravated to a righteous froth. "I should have you arrested! Look what you did to my mum's flowers!"

"I did not set the coordinates for London." Clearly a nutter of the first order, the man scowled, vanishing back into the box. She heard the echo of his voice, retreating. "I've been avoiding this place…"

Jules put a cautious hand on the doorframe, peering inside, and when she saw what lay within the box, her chin dropped.

It had to be some kind of optical illusion. The box looked like a big cupboard on the outside, the size of a changing cabana at the beach. Jules circled around to confirm its dimensions, and when she reached the open doorway again, she took a cautious step inside.

A new world opened up before her eyes. Jules became aware of sound, too, a humming throb, and a faint vibration that came up through her feet. The room was enormous, circular, far too large to be contained in that blue box. Underfoot was a kind of metal grille, and all around, the walls were golden-beige, baffled with what appeared to be small, circular portholes. Tall, oddly-shaped support posts rose up to the ceiling, curved and branching, like tree limbs. In the center of all this sat something that looked like a circular control panel, topped with tall, translucent columns that rose up as far as the ceiling.

The git in the brown suit was hunched over one portion of the control panel, listening to something through a stethoscope. Jules stared, but didn't touch anything: there were knobs and levers and handles and buttons and glowing, blinking lights, snake-like cables and a flat-screen monitor, all of it jerry-rigged, the overall effect somewhere between high-tech and junk shop.

Since Brown Suit was ignoring her, Jules inched across the metal grille toward an open doorway. A corridor stretched before her, and she could see doorways to both the left and right. She took a few more steps, finding that some of the doors opened onto rooms, others onto yet more corridors. She didn't make any detours, just kept to the main hallway, until she realized she'd gone so far that behind her, the first doorway had receded to the size of a business envelope. Alarmed, Jules turned and ran back, bursting in on Brown Suit.

"Shh!" he said, leaning over the control panel, listening. "Can you hear that?"

Jules listened. A moment later came a crackle of static, and the sound of a male voice.

"Delilah? Delilah, do you read me, over?" Whoever it was, he sounded young, and Jules found herself strangely touched by the note of desperation in his voice.

"Hello!" Brown Suit shouted. "Hello, who's this? Who are you looking for?"

After a moment of stunned silence, the male voice said, "This is Captain Maxwell Orion. I'm looking for Delilah Delamere—who are you?"

"This is the Doctor," Brown Suit responded. "Where are you?"

"I'm on Aldrovanda Seven," the voice said. "I'm sorry—my communications seem to have—" A burst of static followed. "—scrambled—haven't heard—missing—" His voice came and went in loud crackles of interference.

"What's wrong?" asked Jules.

"Never mind that—how's he even able to patch through to my ship? He shouldn't be able to do that!" Brown Suit grabbed a nearby mallet and banged it on the console. "Hello! Hello! This is the Doctor; do you read me?"

The static ended, and silence followed.

"Well, that was… random." Brown Suit scowled, circling the control panel, a pair of black-rimmed spectacles perched on his nose. "You're really not feeling happy today, are you, old girl?" Jules realized he was talking to the machine.

She went to the open doorway, staring outside at the sun and sky, her mother's ruined roses. A next-door neighbor had a window open, and Jules could hear music: the Beatles, singing "Hey Jude."

She turned back to look inside the box, her mind still trying to make some critical leap, still trying to process the incongruity between what her eyes perceived and what common sense told her must be real. By instinct, she knew her life would never be the same after this experience.

"Cognitive dissonance," the man said, straightening up, folding his spectacles and returning them to a pocket. "It'll wear off."

"What—how can you fit all this… this stuff… into this box? Is it some kind of trick?"

"No trick," he said, folding his arms and leaning against the control panel. "Relative dimensions. The outside is in one dimension, the inside is in another."

"Another dimension?" Jules repeated, gulping.

"Mmmhmm," he smiled, nodding. Jules took a better look at him: he was younger than her parents, maybe thirty-five or forty, brown hair, brown eyes, freckles. He was tall, at least six foot, and as skinny as Jules herself.

"Get lost!" she said, exhaling a snort of air. "You expect me to believe that? What're you supposed to be, some kind of alien?" Then Jules stopped short, a kind of cold horror dawning on her. "Oh, God," she said. "You… are you… you are, aren't you?" She started to edge toward the door.

"It's all right," he said. "I won't hurt you."

"Yeah, right! You just… get out of my mum's garden and go on back to wherever…" Jules faltered, realizing something. "How'm I even talking to you? You speak English?"

He gave her a tolerant smile. "I speak a lot of languages."

He seemed so utterly benign that Jules ignored for a moment the primal urge to run for her life. Keeping one eye on the door to make sure it didn't close, she edged closer to the man in the brown suit.

"You're seriously an alien?" she asked, half-expecting him to blast her to death with a ray gun, or at the very least announce his intent to conquer the planet.

"Yes," he said.

"But you… you're wearing a suit!"

He laughed. "I like Earth clothes," he said. "They're comfortable and practical."

"You have freckles." She stared at his face. "And… and stubble… and sideburns… how can aliens have hair?" Jules felt quite certain that an alien could not have sideburns.

"Lots of aliens have hair!" His tenor voice rose on a note of indignation. "Your first contact with an intelligent species from another world, and all you can do is criticize my dress sense and freckles?"

Jules burst into nervous, almost hysterical giggles, ending on a loud hiccup.

"Oh, my God," she said. "Is this real?"

"Want to take a spin?" he invited, eyes sparkling.

"Spin where… what?"

"This is a ship," he said, patting the control panel. "It's called a TARDIS—stands for Time and Relative Dimensions in Space. It's how I get around."

"This is a space ship? No way! Why's it look so… I dunno, so antique?"

"Antique!" he almost yelled.

"Can we… you know, visit… another planet?" asked Jules.

An enormous smile split his face. "I thought you'd never ask! What's your name, by the way?"

"Jules," she said. "Short for Juliette. Jules Paxton."

"Jules, I'm the Doctor," he said, offering a hand.

She shook his hand, amazed at that, that she was actually touching an alien. He had very ordinary hands, the skin cool and dry.

"Where'd you like to go?" he asked.

"Anywhere… look, we can't be gone too long," said Jules, stuffing her hair behind her ears. "Mum and Dad'll be home, and they'll worry. I'm starting uni in America in a week."

"Really, which one?" he asked.

"Santa Clara University," she said. "I was recruited to play on the women's football team."

"Brilliant!" he said. "Think of this as a little holiday before classes start. And don't worry about your mum and dad—I'll have you back five minutes after we left."

"You can do that?" she said. "Seriously?"

With a smug little grin, he tapped the control panel again. "Time machine," he said.

"No way!"

"Oh, yes!" he said, almost bouncing up and down with excitement. "So, what do you say? Nip off for a trip through the cosmos, and back in time for tea?"

"All right," said Jules. How could she say no to this? His offer pretty much defined the expression "chance of a lifetime."

"Hold on tight!"

"To what?" she asked.

"To anything!"

Jules grabbed onto one of the support posts. With the flick of a lever, the outer doors closed.

"Allons-y, Jules Paxton!" the Doctor shouted, and flipped another lever. The entire ship began to vibrate.

"Is this normal?" she yelled, hanging on to the support post for dear life, trying to stay upright as the ship lurched and rocked like an amusement park ride that had gone spinning off its tracks.

"Completely!" he shouted, dashing about the circular control panel, flipping switches and pushing buttons.

"You're barking mad!" she laughed. "I better not live to regret this!"

"No chance!" he said, banging on something with his mallet.

A few moments later, the noise and the movements stopped. Jules waited a beat, then relaxed her grip on the post. "Is that all?"

He pushed a lever on the control panel. "Go look."

Jules turned and stared. The tall doors stood open, bright sunlight streaming through.

"Is it all right?" she asked. "Is there, you know, air out there?"

"Of course there is!" he said. "I wouldn't take you to a planet with no atmosphere."

Slowly, Jules made her way toward the door and stepped outside.

Her mother's garden was gone—completely gone. Instead, Jules found herself standing on a long spit of sand, as soft and white and fine as powder. Amazed, she reached down and touched it with her hand, letting it sift through her fingers. Directly ahead, about forty feet away, a sheet of turquoise water folded and unfolded against the sand with a quiet rustle and murmur.

"It's—it's incredible," she said, laughing in a quiet gasp, turning around. In the distance, she spotted a smudge of dark green. "Where—what planet is this? Where are we?"

"This is Nelumbo Minor," the Doctor said, coming to stand beside her. "Nelumbo Major is a few million light years that way." He pointed off to the right. "Much further away from the sun than this."

"Another sun," she said, shading her eyes. "That's another sun? Like Earth's?"

"Another star," he confirmed. "With its own planets, fifteen of them, orbiting around it. We're standing on one of them—the only one with an atmosphere."

"Where's Earth?" asked Jules.

"You can't see it from here," he smiled.

"What about our sun? Can we see it at night?"

"Nope," he said. "Too far away."

"Oh, my God," she said. "Me. Jules Paxton, standing on another planet."

"Isn't it incredible?" he said. "And I'll tell you, even after centuries of traveling, it never gets old."

"Centuries?" she asked.

"Mmmhmm," he grinned.

"No way. Seriously? How old are you?"

"Nine hundred twenty-seven," he said. "That's in Earth years. But in Nelumbo years, I'd be two thousand eleven."

"You are so full of it!" Jules turned from him to study the landscape around them. "Is this all there is?" she asked, trying not to sound ungrateful. "A beach?"

"Oh, no," he said. "The amazing thing about Nelumbo Minor is underwater. It's possibly the most gorgeous coral reef in the entire universe."

"Can I see it?"

"D'you know how to snorkel?"

"Sure," said Jules. "We did that once on a holiday in Spain."

"Brilliant!" he said, bounding back for the blue box. "Well, come on, let's get suited up. We've got about fifteen hours of daylight."

(ii)

By the time the Doctor was ready, Jules was outside on the sand, bouncing with impatience.

"Took you long enough," she teased.

"Come here," he said, waving something in his hand.

"What's that?"

The Doctor was holding a small bottle with a spray nozzle on top. "Ultra-strength sunblock," he said. "That sun is a lot brighter than Earth's, and you'll burn."

"I never burn," Jules protested.

"You will here. Turn around."

Jules turned, and a moment later, she felt a cool tingle on her skin, like a fine mist. "That's weird," she said.

"It's full of micro-particles that'll deflect UV radiation," he said. "Best part is that it's waterproof and guaranteed to stay on for a week, so no need to re-apply. Now, turn back."

Jules turned around to face him, and he coated her front. In the ship's vast wardrobe—three stories full of the most insane costumes Jules had ever seen—he'd located a white bikini, a face mask, snorkels, and swim fins. The bathing suit had adjustable string ties, so Jules had no problems with the fit, and the face mask worked, too, once Jules had fiddled with the rubber strap.

The Doctor wore plain black swim trunks, which made him appear very tall and comically lanky. He had no muscle tone that Jules could see, and rather a lot of dark body hair. For an alien, he was quite an ordinary bloke. Jules never would have looked at him twice if she'd encountered him on a London street, which she supposed was why he liked Earth: he fit in there. He handed her the bottle of sunblock, and Jules sprayed him down, front and back. He was so pale, she thought, and he must burn easily. Jules herself was nut-brown from a summer spent playing football outdoors.

"Right," he said, tossing the bottle back inside the blue box and locking the door. He zipped the key into an inner pocket of his shorts. "Ready?"

"Yeah," she laughed, giddy and nervous. "How much is there to see?"

"The reefs are extensive," he said. "We can't see all of them." They went to the water's edge and donned their fins and masks. "Nelumbo Minor is one big ocean, with small scattered islands and atolls. But we have enough time to see the reefs around this archipelago." They duck-walked awkwardly through the surf until they reached deeper water, stopping to adjust their face masks.

"Do we have to worry about sharks, anything like that?" asked Jules.

"Not here—the water's too warm and shallow. But as a general rule, don't touch anything."

"Right," she said. "Poison stingers, and that?"

"Right!" He mumbled, "Allons-y!" around the mouthpiece of his snorkel and plunged beneath the waves with a taut, springy dive. Jules bit into her own mouthpiece and followed after him.

At first, she could see nothing but sand. Then the ocean floor shelved down a steep incline, and an entire world revealed itself. Gobsmacked, Jules gazed down upon an exotic garden of color, shape, and texture, all of it shimmering and glittering through the glass-clear prism of water.

She poked her head above the surface, laughing. A moment later, the Doctor's head popped up next to hers, his wet fringe plastered to his forehead.

"What do you think?"

"It's gorgeous!" she exclaimed.

"Isn't it brilliant? Want to go down for a closer look?"

"All right!"

They took deep breaths and plunged into the waves again, kicking down. Even at this depth, the water proved as tepid as a bath. Jules coasted along the surface of the reefs, taking care not to touch anything. The coral had grown in fantastic configurations, ranging in size from tiny to huge, and in every conceivable color. She'd always thought of coral as pastel, but here on Nelumbo Minor, the colors were rich, almost hyper-saturated, intense jewel tones whose beauty defied description.

Amidst the corals swam schools of fish, as varied in appearance as the reefs themselves, but as profoundly fish-like as any piscine species on Earth. These creatures had fins and gills, their bodies long and slim, and they moved like fish, in sinuous vertical undulations.

At last Jules had to surface for air, and she hit the Doctor with a barrage of questions.

"They're just like regular fish!" she shouted.

"They are fish," he laughed.

"Why don't they look any different? Why don't they have two heads or more eyes?"

"Evolution, Jules. It works the same everywhere. They've evolved the features that suit them best in this environment."

"Could I eat one of them?" she asked.

"Some of them might not taste too good," he said. "Some might even be poisonous."

"Do they have squids and octopus here?"

"I'm sure they have cephalopod-like species," he said.

"Can we see them?"

"Look carefully," he said. "They're usually good at camouflaging themselves."

They went down again, this time kicking themselves to the ocean floor. The Doctor pointed, and Jules saw the shape of some soft-bodied creature, hiding beneath the sand. As they watched, the thing lifted itself up, snatched a tiny passing fish, and settled itself back into its hiding place.

The only hindrance to the day's pleasure was the need to surface periodically for breath. Jules found that she needed to go up more often than the Doctor, who could stay submerged for quite a long spell, but she also discovered the joy of just skimming across the surface of the water, gazing down into the miraculous environment below.

She lost track of time before long, circling around the reefs, following the Doctor and surfacing when he did to question him again about something they'd seen. He proved to be the best kind of teacher: patient, funny, never criticizing or scorning anything Jules had to say.

"I wish Jess could see all this!" Jules lamented. She and the Doctor had come up for air, and were idly backstroking to give their tired muscles a rest. Overhead, the sun shone warm and benign, lingering endlessly in the sky.

"Who's Jess?" the Doctor inquired.

"My mate," she told him. "Jesminder Bhamra. We play football together. We were both recruited to play for Santa Clara."

"So, that's what you do?" he asked. "Play football?"

"That's not all I do," said Jules, feeling self-conscious.

"What about school?"

"What about it?" she asked.

"What'll you study at uni?"

"Dunno," said Jules. "It's different at American universities—you don't need to know what you're gonna do right away." She blushed to admit that academics had always been something she'd fit in around matches and practices. Kicking along, she said, "I wanna be a professional footballer." Before he could chide her for that particular ambition, she said, "How 'bout you? What do they teach you at alien school?"

He burst out laughing, but Jules saw something sad and faraway in his face.

"Sorry, was that a stupid question?" she asked.

"Not at all! We learned loads of science. The history of our planet and people. Literature—there were all these epic poems we had to memorize in an archaic form of our language." His face grew moody, reflective. "And if you showed the right aptitude, you learned how to travel through time and space."

"Like you?"

"Not at first," he grinned. "I nicked a TARDIS and ran off with it. Everything I learned, I learned on the fly, as it were."

"So, you're a renegade?" she said.

He huffed, "I prefer 'free spirit.'"

"So, d'you do this all the time?" she asked. "Pick up random people on other planets and show them the universe?"

"That's the best bit," he said.

"Are you in some kind of trouble? Will I get arrested 'cuz I scarpered with you?"

"No!" he laughed.

"So, you're an intergalactic hobo, then?"

"Stop trying to put me in little categories," he complained.

"Just trying to suss out your game."

"I don't have one. I travel, I explore, I wander wherever my muse takes me."

"I still think you're full of it," said Jules.

"What is it with you mouthy London girls?" The Doctor pulled himself upright, shaking his head. He slid the mask back over his eyes. "We have about three more hours of daylight," he said. "Then, back to the TARDIS. All right?"

"All right!" said Jules, adjusting her mask and snorkel before they dived down again.

Before they know it, they'd made a circuit of the small island, but with the sun still hovering in the sky, Jules felt reluctant to get in the TARDIS just yet. Home felt like it would be small and colorless after this excursion.

"What's that?" She pointed to the green smudge she'd noticed earlier.

"Another island," he said. "Want to have a butchers?"

"All right!"

They plunged straight across into deeper water. A strong current ran between the islands, but Jules had no problem navigating; she wondered if the tide were going in or out. She and the Doctor let the tumbling surf wash them up onto the beach, and they rolled across the wet sand, laughing.

"I need to do this more often!" the Doctor said, getting to his feet and reaching down to slip off the fins.

"Do what?"

"Get out like this—see something beautiful."

"Instead of what?"

"Oh, nothing. I've just landed in too many industrial slag-heaps lately."

"Not Earth," Jules said, forehead puckering.

"No, no, no! I need to do things like this—snorkel, watch fish—so relaxing, don't you think?"

"It's pretty." Jules shaded her eyes, studying a strand of exotic trees. Over the sound of crashing surf, she could hear the calls of birds. "Can we look around?"

"Yes, but stay on the beach. We're not dressed for the jungle."

Divested of snorkels, fins, and masks, they wandered the white sands, Jules splashing into and out of the surf, examining the shells she found.

"You're a great bloke," she told him. "Thanks so much for all this! What a day!"

"Hmm." He stood shading his eyes, staring down the beach.

"What?" she said. "What'd you see?"

"I just thought…"

Jules followed his line of vision. "Doctor," she said, "are those people?"

"Hang back a bit, Jules," he murmured. "They might never have seen anyone from off-world, and we're very apt to frighten them."

Jules watched the small group, which appeared to be engaged in some kind of labor. "What're they doing?"

"Fishing," the Doctor told her. "That's a net they're bringing in."

Now Jules could see it clearly: the people, the net they were trying to haul up onto the beach. The ropes seemed very full of large, heavy fish.

And then someone screamed.

Forgetting his earlier injunction to stay put, the Doctor took off at a sprint, Jules on his heels.

(iii)

Jules saw straight away what had happened: one of the fish had a long bony protuberance extending from its nose, like a swordfish, wickedly serrated on both sides, and this had slashed a small girl in the leg. Bright red blood spurted out across the sand. Her companions—children, Jules realized, not one a day older than twelve—stood wailing; none of them had the slightest idea what to do. Their wails turned to shrieks of fear when the two newcomers came barreling into their midst.

"Jules!" the Doctor barked, scooping up the child and laying her down on the sand, "elevate her leg and put pressure on it!"

"With what?" asked Jules.

"Your hands!"

Jules obeyed, lifting the girl's leg into her lap and pressing down on the ugly gash with both hands. The other children stood in a cluster nearby, sobbing.

"It's all right, it's all right!" the Doctor called to them. "We're here to help." He'd pulled something from the zippered inner pocket of his shorts and was using it to cut a long strip of rope from the fishing net.

"What's that?"

"Sonic screwdriver," he told her. While Jules held the little girl steady, the Doctor used the rope to bind the wound closed, as best he could. Jules took a curious look at the alien child: she appeared to be about seven or eight years old, skin tanned dark brown, an exotic contrast with her white-blonde hair. Her eyes were green, almost the exact color of the sea water. She could be from Earth, Jules thought. She looks completely human. Then she took a better look, and her mouth fell open.

"Doctor, look at her hands! Look at her feet!"

"I know, Jules," he murmured. He passed the sonic screwdriver over the girl's injury; amazed, she watched as the torn flesh knitted itself back together, leaving an angry red welt behind.

"What'd you do?" she gasped.

"Sutured and sterilized the cut," he said, holding up the tool so that Jules could see it better.

"That is wicked!" she breathed.

"Right," he said, pocketing the instrument. "We need to find out… ah. Jules. Don't move."

"Why?" she said, then went still when a shadow fell across them. She looked up and realized they were surrounded by a half-dozen athletic young men, all naked save a simple loincloth. Each youth carried a long wooden shaft tipped with a length of serrated bone: the spear-tips must have come from the same fish that had cut the girl's leg. Jules realized to her horror how she and the Doctor must look: both splattered with the child's blood, their hands red and dripping.

"Aah," the Doctor said. "I know what this looks like, but I can explain—"

"Silence!" One of the boys—the warriors all appeared to be about sixteen or seventeen—put his spear to the Doctor's neck. "How dare you touch the royal princess, you filthy outsiders?"

"We were trying to save her life!" shot Jules.

"Stand up," the leader ordered. The Doctor and Jules obeyed. One of the warriors leaned down and lifted the girl, who by now was almost unconscious, eyelids fluttering. Jules didn't like the way her breathing sounded.

"Keep her leg elevated," the Doctor told the chief warrior. Jules marveled that he could keep his voice so calm. "She's lost a lot of blood."

"We'll care for her ourselves," the warrior spat. "As for you, your fate is in the hands of King Leonidis. Now, get moving." And with their spears, the warriors prodded the two time travelers forward.

(iv)

The trail the warriors followed traversed a wide semicircle around the island, avoiding the dense jungle. Jules tried to fight off panic: the sun was setting, and very little daylight remained for her and the Doctor to swim back to the TARDIS. Despite his promise to return her home, she fretted at how her parents would react to her absence. What would they think when they found her missing?

She kept looking at the Doctor, but apart from shooting her a few reassuring looks, he did nothing. He scarcely looked worried, and Jules suspected part of him was enjoying their predicament. She didn't know how to react to that, whether to feel reassured or aggravated. Maybe a bit of each. At least she didn't worry so much that they were in mortal peril.

The party came around a bend, and there on a spit of land sat an enormous rock edifice. When they drew closer, Jules could see the rock was honeycombed with holes, and from within those openings, firelight flickered. The warriors led Jules and the Doctor straight into one of the lower openings. A cave, Jules realized, a maze-like series of caves within the vast rock.

Jules and the Doctor were ordered into in a side-room, and a warrior was left to guard them. The other warriors and the children went elsewhere; Jules could hear the echo of their voices.

"Lovely parlor," the Doctor remarked, leaning against a large boulder.

"What's going on?" Jules hissed. "What're they doing?"

"Going to see their king, I'd imagine. He'll decide what to do about us."

"What if he decides to have us executed?"

"He won't."

"How do you know?"

"Jules, don't worry." The Doctor was examining the cave walls, indifferent to their fate. "This entire rock must've been under water at one time. Isn't it brilliant—a natural fortress!"

Jules punched his arm.

"Ow!"

"You prat!" she exploded.

"Jules—it'll be all right. Most societies have laws of hospitality."

"You've done this before," Jules realized, folding her arms. "This is all one big lark to you, innit?"

"Adventure," he grinned, bouncing on his feet. "If you want excitement, you need to take some risks."

"Well, thanks a lot, Mister! If I die here, bring my body back home to Mum and Dad, yeah?" Jules eyed the adolescent warrior, wondering if she and the Doctor together could overpower him. Then she abandoned that train of thought, assuming the Doctor would want no part in it.

Some time later, with Jules growing ever more anxious, a slim adolescent girl appeared. "The prisoners are to be brought to King Leonidis and Queen Alena," she announced.

The guard motioned Jules and the Doctor out of their cell, and he escorted them deeper into the stone fortress. Jules took care with her footing, not wanting to slip and fall, and it irked her to see the Doctor gazing about at the walls and ceilings like a tourist in Westminster Abbey. She felt grubby and irritable; the little girl's blood had dried into an unpleasant itchy crust on her hands, and although everyone in this strange society went practically naked, Jules still felt vulnerable clad in only the white bikini.

Before long, the twisting corridor opened into a large chamber. This area had been furnished—if it even could be called that—with mats woven from dried grasses and a few low tables created from a bamboo-like wood. Garlands of seashells decorated the cave walls. People milled about: warriors with spears and unarmed civilians. Jules ventured a couple of quick, curious looks: the men wore loincloths, and the women wore simple, two-piece outfits: a strip of fabric wrapped and folded about the hips, with a second strip of fabric to support the breasts. All the adults carried at their waist a small utility knife. The children were entirely naked.

The warrior who'd been guarding Jules and the Doctor announced, "The prisoners, as you requested, my lord."

The people in the room parted ranks, and Jules found herself standing face-to-face with a man who towered over her, so tall that his head came within a few inches of the cavern ceiling, and so massive that she gulped in apprehension. He was very powerfully built, broad through the chest, arms endlessly long. She put his age at maybe twenty-five or thirty. Jet-black hair fell down past his shoulders, touched with not a trace of gray. High cheekbones gave his face its long, narrow shape, and his jaw ended in an aggressive chin. His eyebrows, thick untamed hedges, met almost in the middle of his forehead. A solemn expression suggested he didn't smile often.

The woman beside him seemed dainty and petite, though Jules estimated she must stand at least five-ten or taller. Her hair was pale blonde, eyes sea-green, face arresting in its beauty, and Jules realized this must be the mother of the injured girl. Of course, she thought. The guard had referred to the child as "the royal princess"—she must be the king and queen's daughter.

The tall man spoke. "Strangers to Nelumbo," he said, his voice low and mossy, "explain your presence here."

The Doctor straightened up, and despite his mussed hair, blood-encrusted hands, and rumpled swimming trunks, a cloak of dignity seemed to descend over him. At that moment, he seemed equal in stature and majesty to Leonidis.

"Your Excellence, might I introduce myself? I'm the Doctor, a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey, and this is my traveling companion, Juliette Paxton of the planet Earth—Sol 3."

"And what brings you to Nelumbo?"

"Curiosity," the Doctor provided. "I'm a scientist by training, and Jules is a young scholar, so we came here to make a survey of Nelumbo's coral reefs. We heard someone screaming and went to help." As he spoke, his voice shifted, its tones becoming full, round, his face open and very candid. Jules found herself melting beneath the sway of his charm and authority. "If we've violated some custom or taboo, then you have our sincerest apologies. I did think that saving the girl's life should take precedence over everything else."

Leonidis nodded. He didn't smile, but his face had relaxed, and Jules could see that he, too, had fallen prey to the Doctor's almost hypnotic spell.

"I see," he responded. "In that case, I can hardly punish you for your actions. Thank you for helping her—Fauna's the daughter of my queen, Alena."

The woman beside him smiled, though the expression lacked sincerity. She seemed no older than Jules, maybe twenty at most. "Apples in her cheeks" was how Paula would have described her face, though Jules would have laughed at her mother's flowery turn of phrase. Alena would be reckoned a tremendous beauty anywhere, almost goddess-like in her symmetrical blonde perfection.

"Thank you," she said, her voice an enchantment. "We're most grateful."

"And in token of our gratitude, we invite you to stay on a few nights," Leonidis added. "The Festival of Three Moons will soon be upon us, and we'd be honored to have you as our guests."

"Our pleasure," the Doctor beamed. "Of course we'll stay."

"Splendid," said Leonidis. "Jurek will show you where to wash, and you can dine with us tonight. I look forward to learning about these worlds you come from."

(v)

"Are you mad?" Jules hissed.

"Given that he could've executed us, it'd be churlish to say no." The Doctor plunged his head into the fresh, cold water, then stood up after a moment, shaking his hair and rubbing his face dry on a coarse towel.

Jules scowled but followed suit, eager to clean off the blood and sticky salt. The outdoor washing area consisted of a basin full of fresh water, perched on a rock. The basin had been fashioned from a single giant seashell, as beautiful and innovative as it was utilitarian. Jurek, one of the young guards, handed Jules a second towel, which she used to dry her hands and face. The fabric wasn't very soft or absorbent, but Jules suspected it would dry quickly. The simple clothes that the people of Nelumbo wore had been made from the same material—it felt like a kind of rough linen.

"You just wanna stay here and be nosy," Jules muttered. "I have a life to get back to, Doctor! It might not be as exciting as gallivanting 'round the universe, but—"

"Jules." He put hands on her shoulders. "I promise you, I'll take you back just minutes after we left. Nobody will ever know you were gone, and you won't miss any time."

"Promise? I thought this was gonna be a quick trip, not a gap year."

He made two x-marks on his chest. "Cross my hearts."

"Hearts?" she repeated, not sure if she'd heard him correctly.

"Two of them," he said.

"What, one isn't good enough, or d'you need a spare in case the other stops working?"

He sighed. "No, my species evolved a binary vascular system over time."

Jules folded her arms, feeling the magic of the expedition wearing off. "God, you're such a prat!"

"Come on, Jules!" he said, eyes big and shining. Jules had begun to realize there was more to this alien bloke than she'd first realized, and now she could see that getting home wasn't going to be a simple process, nor was it likely to happen any time soon. "It's a holiday on a fantastic planet, and you'll get to learn about an intelligent species while we're here."

Her mouth twitched. She found it almost impossible to resist eyes like those, especially since he was giving her the sense he'd be gutted if she insisted on leaving right now. Besides, there was a lot more of the planet to see, even just in the immediate vicinity, and those odd fish-people intrigued her. Jules reminded herself that she'd soon be leaving for uni in another country; what better preparation could she have for adjusting to new cultures and experiences than a brief sojourn in a completely different world?

"All right," she said at last. "But we're leaving as soon as this moon festival is over."

"Brilliant!"

"God, will you stop saying that? Brilliant this and brilliant that—" Jules paused in mid-rant because she'd begun to laugh. For all she knew, the Doctor was mind-controlling her, but she just couldn't stay angry at him. It was like trying to stay angry at a mischievous puppy.

The smell of food cooking wafted on the sea breeze, and Jules realized she was ravenously hungry.

"That smells wonderful," she told Jurek.

"Come with me," he invited, smiling at her. "We eat on the beach."

The two travelers followed behind him, and Jules didn't complain when the Doctor slipped a friendly hand into hers.

(vi)

The people of Nelumbo had an interesting way of cooking food: they dug a big pit in the sand, lined the pit with stones, and kindled a fire at the bottom. When the fire had burned down, fish wrapped in green leaves were placed in the coals and the whole business covered with wet seaweed. A few hours later, the fish were baked to juicy perfection.

Jules and the Doctor sat with Leonidis, cross-legged on woven grass mats. Oddly, Alena didn't join them: she sat off to one side with a group of women. Jules realized that the injured girl, Fauna, wasn't the eldest—or only—royal child. There were two older than her and two younger, a brood of five altogether, three girls and two boys. The oldest was a comely lad of about twelve; Jules was shocked by his age. Assuming Alena was older than she appeared, closer to twenty-five than twenty, she must have started bearing children at thirteen or fourteen.

A small gaggle of people gathered around the king, wanting to hear more about the two strangers. Jules found herself in the unforeseen position of speaking as a representative of an entire planet.

"Erm… it's… well, there's more people than you've got here," she opened.

"How many?" a boy asked.

"Uh… about six billion, I think. Right, Doctor?"

"Give or take," he smiled.

"What's a billion?" the boy inquired, and Jules realized that while these people could count, they couldn't fathom a number so large.

"We have as many people there as you have fish in the sea," she ventured. This declaration was met with great scorn.

"Impossible!"

"How is there room for everyone?"

"What do you all eat?"

"Well, there's a lot more land," said Jules. "We have oceans, but there's huge pieces of land called continents, and that's where people live."

Much of the people's curiosity centered around Jules herself.

"How can you swim with such small hands and feet?"

"Well, usually when people on Earth swim, it's for fun."

"How do you get around?" a girl inquired. "Boats?"

"We live on land," Jules told her. "We don't need to swim to get around. We use boats to get across water, but people on Earth walk, mainly. And if we're going anywhere over a long distance, we have… machines that can carry us around."

"What are machines?"

Jules had to let the Doctor answer that one. He responded by explaining how it would be if the people of Nelumbo could attach a device like a cooking spit to the back of a boat, that when turned, would propel the craft across the water. The people grasped this notion, but they had a harder time with the idea of the spit turning itself, until the Doctor used the example of a wheel turned by the wind.

Through all this chatter, Leonidis sat without saying anything, but listening, his face solemn and thoughtful. Jules found it odd that nothing she or the Doctor said really surprised him. Maybe he'd just learned composure, being the king. Though the others held him in high regard, most everyone seemed on familiar terms with him, and he made no complaint when people bumped into him or small children crawled across his lap.

The people of Nelumbo were generous to a fault, encouraging the two guests to eat and eat. Jules followed the Doctor's example and tried a little of everything, finding the fish tender and well-cooked, though somewhat flavorless. She wondered if the people here had never heard of herbs or spices. In addition to the fish, there were starchy roots, and for something sweet, fruits and berries. One of the fruits was so tart that Jules found her eyes watering, but there was a purple berry so delicious that she ate until she was gorged. The only utensils the people used were those small knives, made from the same fish bone as the warriors' spear-tips. Otherwise, everyone ate with their fingers. To drink, there was fresh water, served in cups made from seashells.

"Where d'you get the water?" Jules asked a young woman sitting nearby.

"In the forest, there's a spring," the girl explained. She appeared to be maybe fifteen, very pretty, and she was nursing an infant of about six months.

Jules didn't observe any of the babies in the group wearing nappies. The mothers simply held the babies away from themselves, letting them pass waste wherever they happened to be. The adults relieved themselves at the edge of the water, in full view of everyone.

Leaning over to the Doctor, Jules murmured, "This all takes some getting used to."

Nothing could diminish his enthusiasm. "Just go with it, Jules."

"Yeah, and watch where I step."

By the time the meal ended, Jules found herself exhausted, and Leonidis said, "Jurek will show you where to sleep."

That turned out to be a chamber in the big fortress, on one of the lower levels, with a large hole overlooking the inky sea. Three moons had risen, all waxing toward full, and Jules watched them, absently rubbing the porous rock with her fingertips.

"So, we're the first outsiders these people have ever met?" she asked.

"So it would seem," the Doctor responded.

"Won't they catch diseases from us?" she fretted. "You know, like smallpox?"

"Why?" he asked, astonished.

"Dunno," she said. "It was something I read, once."

"Jules, have you ever had smallpox?"

"No."

"Have you ever been exposed to anyone with it?"

"No."

"Then how could you possibly give these people smallpox?"

She sighed. "Never was much good at science."

"Have you had all your shots?"

"God, yes."

"Then it's fine. There's no diseases you can give these people."

"Oh." Jules watched as the Doctor fussed with their bedding: a couple of long, woven straw mats and a pair of rough blankets. She said, "You didn't say too much about yourself tonight."

"Hmm?"

"I told 'em all about Earth… where'd you say you're from? Galilee?"

Without looking at her, he said, "Gallifrey."

"And what'd you say you are? A time-something?"

"Time Lord." He eased himself down onto one of the mats, wrapping the blanket around himself.

"What's that mean?"

"It's my species." His voice sounded remote, maybe even angry.

"Don't talk about it if you don't want to, then," said Jules, leaving the window and going to adjust her own bedding. There were no pillows, so she improvised one by scrunching an end of the blanket, wrapping the rest of the fabric around herself. Not that there was much need for covers: the air was very mild, even here at the water's edge. "G'dnight."

She'd almost fallen asleep when the Doctor spoke.

"Jules?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she smiled into the darkness. "Get some sleep."

(v)

The sound of rushing water broke into her early morning slumber. Funny how that sound, waves breaking on the beach, could sound like a noisy crowd of cheering people. Jules sighed and turned over, drifting halfway between sleep and true wakefulness.

"I don't think he's gonna get this one." Her father spoke, clear as day.

"Don't be silly, Alan, of course he will," Paula responded.

"Nah, how can he? He must be tired by now. I think his friend's gonna get this one."

"Mum?" said Jules, surprised. "Dad? What're you doing here?"

"Five quid says I'm not," Alan challenged.

"Five quid says you are." Jules could hear the teasing laugh in her mother's voice.

"Deal?" said Alan.

"Deal," agreed Paula.

Jules blinked, staring at the cavern ceiling. In a twinkling, the previous day came back to her. She'd spent the night on an alien planet! Excited, she pushed aside the linen blanket and stood. She was alone; the Doctor must already be awake. Outside, the sun had risen—alien star, alien world—and she, Jules Paxton, was standing right in the middle of it.

The excitement of the adventure came flooding back, and Jules bounced across the sandy floor, outside the stone fortress to the beach, where she found a few people milling about the fire pit.

"Hello, Jules!" The young woman with the baby stood, holding some kind of platter in her hand. When Jules got closer, she realized it was a broad, flat piece of bone. "Are you hungry?"

"Famished," said Jules. "What's for breakfast?"

"Fish," the young woman laughed. Jules struggled to think of the girl's name, then she remembered: Saba. "Plus, some of those berries you like. Here."

"Thank you so much," said Jules, sitting gratefully on the sand. Unlike the previous night's dinner, breakfast seemed to be more of a catch-as-catch-can affair, people milling in and out to help themselves. "Who gets all this ready?"

"Excuse me?" asked Saba. "What do you mean?"

"I dunno… who does the cooking here?"

"What a strange question," Saba teased. "We all do." She nodded toward a group of children who were splashing into the surf, plunging into deeper water. "They're going fishing, and when they get back, the adults will do the cooking."

"So, the kids fish, and the adults cook? Why?"

Saba patted her baby, which hung in a sling wrapped around her shoulders. "Usually because we have little ones to look out for, and you can't exactly do that underwater."

"Oh. That makes sense, I guess." Jules finished eating, then asked, "If it isn't too rude… can I see your baby's feet?"

"Why not?" Saba laughed. She unfolded a corner of the sling and let Jules have a look.

"These are so wild," Jules marveled, touching the infant's feet, a miniature version of Saba's. Everyone on Nelumbo had hands and feet like these—big, the fingers and toes very long. Instead of two knuckle joints, the digits of both hands and feet had three. And between the fingers and toes were delicate webbed membranes, extending up to the first knuckle joint.

Saba looked down at Jules' feet. "Yours are so funny," she said. "They're so small, and your toes are so stubby. You must not be able to do much with them."

"I can walk, run, and kick a football with them," said Jules. "That's enough for me."

"What's a football?"

"A round ball, about this big," said Jules, demonstrating with her hands. "Football's a game you play in two teams—two groups of people. You kick the ball around with your feet."

"That sounds peculiar," Saba said. "Not to mention painful." She reached across the sand with her foot, nagged a bit of driftwood in between two toes, and flicked the wood into the fire. Jules stared with her mouth open: Saba's feet were so flexible that they almost served as a second pair of hands.

"That is brilliant!" she said, then clamped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, no!"

"What?"

"Now he's got me saying it!"

"Who are you talking about?"

"The Doctor—that bloke I'm traveling with." Jules glanced around the beach. "D'you have any idea where he is?"

"I think he went out to explore the mangroves." Saba pointed. "That way."

"Thanks," Jules told her, and went to go search for her erstwhile companion.

(vi)

The mangrove swamp extended around the back of the island, trees that stretched enormous, bizarre root systems into the sea water. Jules gaped at the roots, then at the trees they supported. Fantastic! she thought, floating on her back and staring up, shading her eyes. Amongst the broad, flat leaves of the trees, she spotted gorgeous birds, as vividly colored as the coral reefs and fish, some as large as eagles, others as tiny as sparrows.

The waters around the mangrove roots were very shallow, and here Jules saw more fish, flitting in schools, the perfect formations scattering at her approach. She hugged the shoreline, following the mangroves until she reached a kind of sheltered lagoon. She paddled in for a closer look, rearing back with surprise when the surface whelmed, and up popped the Doctor, face mask strapped to his head, fins on his feet.

"Jules!" he shouted.

"Good morning to you, too," she laughed, still trying to catch her breath. "How long've you been out here?"

"Since sunrise." He swam over to a nearby tree, where he'd stashed a second mask, a snorkel, and a pair of fins. "Here's your gear."

"So, what're you looking at down there?" Jules slipped the fins onto her feet.

"It's like a miniature nursery," he said, vibrating with excitement. "All sorts of things come here to breed because it's so sheltered. C'mon, have a look."

They plunged down, and Jules saw immediately what he meant: the mangrove roots were like cages, providing perfect shelter for young sea-creatures to develop, safely away from larger predators. She and the Doctor observed not only fish, but a host of reptilian and amphibious creatures. Most amazing was some type of seal, a mammal with large doe eyes and a whiskered snout, gazing out at Jules before vanishing among the roots and seaweed.

"That's amazing!" she exclaimed when they surfaced for air again. "Oh, it's so sweet!"

"Aren't they lovely?"

"I thought seals lived in cold water?" Jules asked him.

"Those are a different kind of marine mammal, one adapted to warmer water. They won't have the insulating fat a seal on Earth would have."

They side-stroked around on the surface, and Jules asked, "So those people we met, are they the only people on the entire planet?"

"They might be," the Doctor said. "I hadn't even realized Nelumbo Minor is inhabited. Even if there's other tribes, the overall population must be very small."

"So, how'd they evolve?" asked Jules. "Do they have, I dunno, apes and monkeys that live in water here?"

"I'm not sure," the Doctor said. "The people might not have evolved on this planet—they might've come from another world, at first."

"Seriously?" asked Jules. "But they're… I dunno, they're still… eating with their hands and stuff." She hated to use a word like "primitive," considering that might well be how beings from another world would describe the people of Earth. "It's not like they've got rocket ships."

"Oh, they might be the descendants of a party that crash-landed," the Doctor said. "Whatever technology they possessed would've been lost over time. Their bodies adapted to the aquatic environment."

"And that's why they've got those weird hands and feet?"

"Exactly."

Something else had been nagging at the back of her mind, and Jules finally managed to prod the question to the forefront of her consciousness.

"There's nobody old here," she realized out loud. "I think Leonidis is like the oldest person we've seen, and he's what, thirty?"

"Nobody lives to be much older," the Doctor said.

"Seriously?" Jules was aghast as something occurred to her. "Do they kill people when they get old?"

"No, no, no, the people just don't live very long. They don't seem to have much in the way of medicine. Look how the children reacted when Fauna was injured—they didn't know the first thing about applying pressure. So people are going to die from relatively minor ailments—small injuries, infections, an illness they can't shake off…"

"That's so sad," Jules murmured.

"That's what life was like on Earth until the twentieth century, and still is that way for people who don't live in the industrialized nations," the Doctor reminded her. "You owe a lot of your longevity to modern medicine and sanitation."

"True," said Jules. "Never thought much about that. God, there's so many things I've never thought about at all. Just took everything for granted."

"Travel," the Doctor smiled. "It opens the eyes."

Something knocked Jules in the leg, and she shouted out loud.

"What, what is it?" the Doctor asked.

"Nothing," she laughed. "Fish bumped into me, that's all. Can we go look again?"

"Why not?"

They spent another half-hour diving down and swimming around the lagoon, observing the many different species. Once, when they surfaced for air, they were lucky enough to see one of the bigger tropical birds swooping down to snatch a fish from the water.

"Did you see that?" Jules shrieked. "What a dive! I thought it was gonna land right in the water!"

"Fine dining," the Doctor laughed. "Raptors usually have incredible eyesight, and I'll bet they can spot the fish from a mile off."

About ten minutes later, Jules surfaced to find the Doctor grimacing and thrashing. "Yaaah," he complained in a loud voice.

"What happened?" asked Jules, shooting through the water to his side. "Did something bite you?"

"No, foot cramp. Ow!" He managed to get the fin off his right foot.

"Well, come over here and stretch it out." Jules put an arm around his shoulders, guiding him over to a nearby tree. At her instruction, he braced his back against the trunk, stretching his foot against a root. "Better?"

"Getting there," he winced.

"We need some Lucozade," Jules laughed. "That's what we drink in practice to keep from cramping up. Bet they don't have any here, though."

"Electrolytes," the Doctor nodded, pulling the fin off his left foot. "That's the downside of these things—they force your feet into a hard arch, and the leg muscles keep contracting…" He braced the left foot and stretched that one, also.

Jules did the same, taking off her fins and stretching, sitting on the root opposite the Doctor.

"Maybe we should get back," she said.

"Hmm, in a few minutes," he agreed.

"Lemme see your foot," she said. Taking the right foot in her hand, Jules gently massaged the arch, then worked her way up the back of his leg, releasing the tense muscles.

"You're quite good at that," he observed.

"Yeah, we get loads of sore muscles on the girls' side."

"Girls' side?"

"Hounslow Harriers, my football club. Well, not mine for much longer. I'll be one of the Santa Clara Broncos in another fortnight." Jules glanced over to find the Doctor gazing at her with big eyes, and she realized she'd stopped massaging his sore muscles, and instead was stroking the skin for the sheer pleasure of it. Normally she would have stopped right away and stammered some apology, but his expression told her he didn't want her to stop, and Jules felt an excited flush, as well as a low-down throb.

She kept stroking his leg, working her way up from knee to thigh. The Doctor's breathing had shifted audibly, and he kept swallowing hard.

"Uh… Jules." If that was his idea of a protest, it was an awfully feeble one.

"All right," she smiled, hauling herself up beside him on the broad root. "How much of a bloke are you?"

"Are… am I… what?"

Jules reached around back and untied her bikini top. Then, without any further ado, she slipped out of the bottoms as well. The Doctor's eyes went from big to enormous. Jules leaned down and pressed her lips to his.

The kiss went on and on, teeth clicking, tongues meeting and exploring. By the time they parted, they both were breathing very hard, as if they'd swum flat-out for a mile without stopping.

"Uh… Jules… we really… uh, that is…"

"Shh." Jules kissed him again, helping him wiggle out of the swim suit. He sat with his back braced against the tree trunk, and Jules straddled his hips with her legs. "Talking is optional," she teased. "Grunting, however, is definitely encouraged."

(vii)

Jules paddled around the lagoon, lying on her back and smiling up at the sky. Nearby, she heard a quiet splashing; the Doctor was washing his face, his hands, taking a kind of improvised bath.

"You all right?" she asked, pulling up beside him.

"Aah," he said, awkward and flustered. "Jules, you know, I don't usually pick up passengers to just—" His arm flailed. "In fact, I—"

"Oh, stop," she teased, wrapping herself around him and silencing him with a kiss. "Is there something wrong with having a bit of a shag?"

"No, but that's not why I wanted you to come with me."

She kissed him again, amused that any man with blood in his veins would be fastidious about a girl offering herself so freely. "You're the weirdest bloke I've ever met," she said. "Don't Time Whatevers have a fling sometimes?"

"I don't make a habit of it," he said.

Feeling miffed now, Jules said, "Sorry… would you rather we didn't?"

"No, no!" He relaxed and kissed her. "Jules… you're a lovely girl. I'm just not used to someone being so… so forward, that's all."

"You really are sweet," she said, nuzzling his face, delighted by his shyness. "Trust me, there's no strings attached to this. It's a holiday in the tropics, and when it's over, we go our separate ways. I don't fancy moving into the blue box with you."

"I wouldn't mind that," he said after a beat.

Jules shook her head. "No."

"It's up to you," he said, awkward again. "If you'd like to come with me…"

"Why'd you say you've been avoiding London?"

"What?"

"When you first landed in the garden, you said you'd been avoiding London."

"I did?"

"You were talking to yourself. Was there some bird who jilted you?"

Indignant, he said, "Now, there's a leap of logic if ever I saw one."

"'Mouthy London girls,'" Jules quoted at him. "Exhibit B."

His shoulders slumped. "All right, all right. Yes, there was someone. But it's not what you think."

"From London?"

"Yes."

"When?" asked Jules.

"About twenty-five years ago."

"That's a long time ago."

"Not for me it isn't," he said.

"Did she jilt you?"

"No."

Something horrible occurred to Jules. "Oh, my God, is she dead?"

"No. No, she's just… gone. She doesn't remember anything about her time with me. I… I changed her life, then I had to take all that away from her."

The pain in his eyes and voice was palpable. Jules gave him a gentle squeeze.

"Sorry," she said. "So, me being here, does it make all that better or worse?"

"Oh, better!" he said. "So much better. Jules—you've pulled me out of the doldrums and made me stop feeling sorry for myself." He kissed her nose. "Thank you."

Jules kissed him back. "So, why do you wanna stay here?" she said. "Are you seriously interested in that moon festival?"

He perked up. "Time's in flux on this planet."

"What's that mean?"

"In time," he explained, "there's always fixed points that can't be altered, and there's points that're in flux—events can change and go any number of ways. Time's in flux on Nelumbo, things are changing—I want to know why." He gave her a lopsided apologetic smile. "Sorry."

"You should've just said so," Jules laughed.

"The really interesting bit is that time's in flux around one point, and I can't figure for the life of me where it is or even what it is."

"Will you know it when you find it?"

"Yes. Or, I should," he told her. "Another thing that's odd, though."

"What's that?" asked Jules.

"You're involved with it."

"For real?"

"You're important, Jules. The TARDIS threw me off course so that I landed in your garden. For some reason it was important for you to come with me to Nelumbo."

"Me, important?" she laughed. "Of all the people on Earth, a football-mad kid from Hounslow?" Then she asked, "So, the TARDIS can think? Does it, you know, talk to you?"

"Not exactly, but it's a sentient entity, and I've been traveling in it for so long that I have a telepathic connection with it. My moods can influence where it takes me."

"Wicked," said Jules. "So, you're telepathic?" She gazed into his eyes, imagining that they were shagging again. "What am I thinking?"

"No," he protested. "I don't do that unless I really need to."

"Spoil-sport." Jules reached around to squeeze his wee arse. "Maybe it just knew you needed some lovin.'" A logical thought followed that one, and stricken, Jules said, "Oh, God, did it think you need a kid or something?" She put a hand on her belly.

"No, no, no!" the Doctor said, kissing her. "That's impossible."

"Why?"

"Different species, different genes. We don't even have the same number of chromosomes."

"Oh!" Jules relaxed, sagging against him. "So, what about that lot back there?"

"What about them?"

"Well, if I shagged one of those blokes, would I have a little fish-baby?"

"Jules!" the Doctor scolded. "You've got a one-track mind."

"Well? Would I?"

"It'd depend on their genetics," the Doctor said, blushing. "Let's not test that theory, though, hmm?"

"I wasn't planning on it," she said, and they kissed again. "Nothing against those blokes, but you're more my type." Which was funny, considering the fish-people might be closer to human than the Doctor. Jules couldn't help herself; she found the thought of those webbed hands on her body off-putting.

"Speaking of which, we ought to get back," the Doctor murmured.

Jules steered him back over to one of the trees. "Not just yet," she said.

(viii)

"Are you all right?" asked Saba.

"What?" Startled, Jules nearly dropped her platter of food.

"You're very far away," Saba smiled.

"It's been quite a morning," Jules admitted. She turned her gaze to the Doctor, who sat on the other side of the fire pit, engrossed in conversation with Leonidis. Since she and Saba were alone, she felt comfortable blurting out, "I lost my virginity."

"What's that?" Saba's brow furrowed, and she glanced around the beach. "Do you need help looking for it?"

"No, no!" Jules went red in the face. "Okay, that doesn't translate so well." She wondered all of a sudden why the people of Nelumbo spoke English. "I had sex. For the first time." She nodded her chin toward the Doctor. "With him."

Saba looked like she still didn't know what Jules was talking about. What euphemism did these people have for sex, anyway?

"Erm, we… made love. Mated. In that lagoon over on the other side of the island."

"Oh! You coupled with him?"

"Yeah." Jules pushed her hair back, self-conscious. "I'd never done that before."

"Really? And you're how old?"

"Eighteen."

"That's so old!" exclaimed Saba. "Why'd you wait so long? I think I'd have died."

"Uh… eighteen's actually kind of young where I come from," said Jules. "And, erm, mating for the first time is kind of a big deal."

Saba nodded, understanding. She was so pretty, Jules thought—long, dark hair, smoky dark eyes, beautiful features, skin tanned brown by the sun. Like all people of Nelumbo, she was lithe and strong from a lifetime of swimming and physical labor, to say nothing of a lean, protein-rich diet.

"Are you... you know, mated to any of these fellas?" asked Jules. "Like Alena is to Leonidis?"

"No!" laughed Saba, shifting the infant girl. "Only the king takes a mate for life."

"Why?"

"Because he's the king." Saba said this as though it were self-evident.

"You wouldn't want that?" asked Jules. "You know, just one bloke for your whole life?"

Saba shook her head. "The king and queen can only couple with each other. I'd go mad from boredom with just one man."

Jules lowered her voice. "Is that why Alena looks... I dunno, kind of angry about something?"

"I don't know why," Saba frowned. "She's usually much happier, but in the past year or so she's been very difficult. I try to avoid her."

"Does she love Leonidis, then? Was she forced to be the queen?"

"Oh, no! Everyone knew he'd pick her—the two of them were mad about each other, from what the elders say. Alena's devoted to Leonidis, but now you can tell she's angry with him about something, and nobody knows what it is." Saba checked the baby: still sleeping. "But that's their concern, not mine."

Jules nodded, observing the activities on the beach. A gaggle of children—older than toddlers, but younger than the kids who did all the fishing—was playing on the beach, under the watchful supervision of an adolescent boy.

"Does that boy always look after the kids?" asked Jules.

"Everyone does," Saba told her. "Children are everyone's responsibility, once they're weaned and they can walk. We take turns looking after them—the girls usually until they have babies of their own to tend."

Jules nodded. The communal nursery arrangement struck her as somewhat odd, but it worked for these people: the children were healthy and safe, doted on by the adults. She realized how odd her own upbringing, raised exclusively by two parents, might seem to Saba. Jules admired Nelumbo society, how the blokes took their turns with cooking and babysitting. But on the other hand, these kids had to start taking on adult responsibilities as soon as they were old enough to follow orders, where Jules had had a lot of leeway as a youngster to pursue any activity she pleased. She watched Saba cuddling her baby, thinking of how stigmatized the girl would be on Earth: an unmarried teenage mother. Here, it was not only acceptable but normal. Jules smiled, realizing how much social taboos and codes of behavior were determined by context.

(ix)

When they finished making love, they curled together in a nest of linen blankets, listening to the sound of the ocean outside, the occasional sound of voices or laughter from elsewhere in the stone fortress. Beneath these ordinary sounds, Jules could hear—if she placed her ear to the Doctor's chest—the sound of both hearts beating. Funny how that didn't bother her—maybe she felt comfortable because his most obvious difference was on the inside.

As a lover he was generous, funny, patient. If he'd guessed at Jules' inexperience, he'd said nothing about it. He'd made no snide remarks about her having a lot to learn, nor had he made any patronizing efforts to "teach" her. Instead, he'd offered his body as a kind of living classroom, letting Jules learn and explore at her own pace, at her own pleasure. In the relative darkness and privacy of the cave, she'd experimented avidly: different positions, different rhythms, variations in pressure or suction.

Settling down into the first drowsy stages of slumber, Jules thought of the months she'd spent yearning for Joe, hoping that he'd come to see her as more than the gifted tomboy who'd pestered him into setting up a girls' side. God, how it had stung when he'd fallen for Jess! Especially since I was the one who recruited her, Jules had fumed. Oddly, that resentment had faded since the Harriers had won the final, since the offer of the scholarship to Santa Clara. The hurts of the past smarted far less now that the window to the future had been opened. Jules still felt miffed and disappointed, but those emotions had grown more diffuse, less acute. And this affair, no matter how short-lived, had altered her perceptions: there were plenty of blokes; Joe wasn't the only one.

Jules smiled, turning into the Doctor's warmth. While he didn't exactly remind her of Joe—in temperament, they were poles apart—she could see certain similarities. The most obvious was physical: both men were tall and very thin, dark-haired. Killer cheekbones, Jules thought. What she liked about the Doctor was that he—not unlike Joe—pushed her. He respected her intelligence, but he also challenged her to use her mind, to think about things in new ways, to set aside her preconceptions. Joe had pushed Jules to be a better, smarter footballer. Likewise, the Doctor was pushing her to learn from her new experiences.

This affair had another advantage: Jules would start uni with some sexual experience behind her. She wouldn't need to worry or fret about her first time: it was already past. And what better way to end her virginity than with a kind, skilled stranger, with no risk of pregnancy and no strings attached, emotional or otherwise? And it wasn't like he'd be hanging about at Santa Clara to harass or humiliate her; after this sojourn, she'd likely never see him again. Jules wasn't in love with him and knew she never would be, but she'd always be grateful to him for the soothing balm on her spirits, as well as this extraordinary opportunity.

Any further ruminations ended when weariness took its toll, and she drifted into untroubled sleep.

(x)

"So, only the king and queen get married here?"

"Not married in the Earth sense, but from what you said, it sounds like they mate for life."

"And everyone else just shags whoever?"

"Jules, you're obsessed."

They were in a small dugout Leonidis had provided, exploring the archipelago; the Doctor had taught Jules how to paddle. She liked the small boat, which had been crafted out of a single tree trunk: long, slim, lightweight, easy to maneuver.

"Can't help it," she laughed. "So, if everyone's shagging everyone else, and nobody's keeping track of where the kids come from, that means a lot of them are gonna be getting with their own relatives."

"Oh, no doubt," the Doctor confirmed.

"Don't you think that's a bit… skevvy?" asked Jules.

"Depends who you ask," the Doctor said, taking one hand off the paddle to shade his eyes. "In some societies, it's not a taboo, or less of a taboo than it is on Earth. And even on Earth, there's places where marrying your cousins—and in the past, even your siblings—is perfectly acceptable."

"Yuck." Jules wrinkled her nose.

"Places like this where the population is so small, inbreeding is inevitable."

"Won't that cause problems with the kids, though?"

"If so, the kids who're badly affected would die. Natural selection."

"Is all that why Leonidis calls his kids 'Alena's children?' He acts like they're not even his."

"To him, they're not."

"What a tosser!"

"These people have no idea where babies come from," the Doctor said. "They haven't realized the man's role in procreation."

"So, what do they think shagging's for?"

"Jules!"

"Well?"

"To them, it's just something that gives them pleasure. It feels good, makes them happy." Tossing a wicked smile back at Jules, the Doctor said, "Not like you lot, who obsess over it and analyze it half to death."

Jules used her paddle to flick water at him. "Count your blessings, mate."

"Hello, what's that?" the Doctor said, shading his eyes again. "D'you see that?"

Jules shifted, and a flash of light dazzled her eyes.

"The sun's reflecting off something. Almost looks metallic." Then she shouted "Metal! Doctor, what's metal doing here?"

"Let's have a gander," he said, and they angled the craft toward open water.

They reached the source of the flash a few moments later. Had the sun been in a different position, they never would have noticed the craft, which lay nearly submerged, floating just beneath the water's surface.

The Doctor examined the surface of the craft. "It's a Calypso-class cruiser," he told Jules. "Very common in this part of the galaxy during this era. They're used for scientific exploration." He banged on the metal with his fist. "Hullo, anyone home?"

After a moment, nobody had responded, and the Doctor said, "All right, then." He fished into a pocket and pulled out the sonic screwdriver. Jules watched as he held it over a large square etched in the metal. With a hissing pop that suggested a vacuum seal had been broken, the square opened, revealing a darkened chasm.

"Hatch," the Doctor said, pocketing the sonic screwdriver.

"Is this... you know, legal?" asked Jules nervously.

"Trespassing," the Doctor grinned, lowering himself inside. "Minor offense." After one last look around, Jules followed.

The drop in temperature struck her right away, and Jules shivered, her skin breaking out in gooseflesh.

"Brr," she said.

"Climate control," the Doctor nodded. He touched something on a wall, and the interior of the ship lit up.

"Cor!" said Jules. "A real spaceship!"

"Oi," the Doctor complained. "What about mine?"

"That's a blue box," Jules answered.

"Hello!" the Doctor called. "Anyone about?"

"It's empty," Jules remarked, staring at the equipment, the controls, everything exactly as she imagined a spaceship might look.

The Doctor turned in a circle, also examining the vessel's interior. "Whoever this belongs to didn't leave in distress," he said. "There's no sign of an emergency landing, and the exterior isn't damaged. The crew submerged in the craft so it wouldn't be noticed from above, and they sealed the hatch when they left. The ship's in 'sleep' mode—a bit like a computer when you're not using it."

"And look, the bed's made," Jules observed, pointing to a nearby bunk. "It's tidy."

An array of scientific equipment lay on one bench, all organized and labeled.

"Obsessive-compulsive," laughed Jules.

"No, that's good scientific technique." The Doctor went forward, ducking his head beneath the low ceiling. "Here's the cockpit." He flicked a switch, and outside glass windows, the clear green water let up.

"Cool!" breathed Jules, laughing at the startled expression on a large fish.

The Doctor flipped off the exterior light. "It's a small craft," he said. "Built for a crew of three people at most. Let's see—we should have a captain's log somewhere..."

He poked around for a few minutes, then said, "Ah-ha! Found you!" And he toggled a switch.

Jules leaped aside, letting out a loud squawk. A young woman had materialized out of nowhere.

"Who are you?" Jules shrieked.

"It's a hologram," the Doctor laughed. "Stand back and listen."

The image of the woman began to speak. "Professor Delilah Delamere, University of Aldrovanda Seven, captain of the Nereus. Day one of the expedition to Nelumbo Minor. Departure at oh-seven hundred hours. All systems stable and—"

The Doctor toggled the switch again, and the image blurred.

"Hey," Jules complained.

"Fast forwarding," the Doctor told her. "Trust me, listening to her rattle down the Standard Protocol would put you to sleep. I'm more interested in what happened when she landed here."

When he let go of the switch, the image resolved, and the woman began speaking again.

"—touchdown on the surface of Nelumbo Minor at nineteen hundred hours approximate time. Planet surface is ninety-three percent aqueous. Intelligent life-forms not noted, although numerous marine species will be observed and cataloged. Additionally, land-based flora and fauna in a nearby archipelago will be catalogued. My intent is to gather evidence to support Nelumbo Minor's status as a Category Epsilon planet with the Governing Council of the Aldrovanda System…"

She then launched into a stream of terminology that Jules found incomprehensible: a mix of legalese and technical jargon that made her head blur. She studied the image of the young woman that was projecting out from the computer bank. Delilah Delamere was about thirty, and the lifelike image suggested she must be tall and slim. A wild mane of frizzy hair stuck out from her head in seemingly every direction, the color somewhere between dark blonde and light brown. At one point during the recording of the journal entry, she'd stuffed the hair behind her ears, which were enormous, sticking out comically from the sides of her head. She wasn't pretty—she was plain, verging on homely—but Jules found her face endearing in its earnest sweetness. She spoke with a suggestion of a lisp.

"And that's it for one night," the scientist concluded. "Now, to kip and start again in the morning. Computer, save file." The image shimmered and vanished.

"Is that all?" asked Jules.

"No, according to this monitor, there's dozens more entries," the Doctor said, peering at something that resembled a small computer screen. "But they're all from over a year ago. The most recent entry was made four months ago, local time."

"What happened to her?" asked Jules.

"I don't know."

"What about the rest of her crew?"

"There wasn't any," the Doctor said, his voice soft. "She was alone."

"Shit," said Jules. "I hope she's all right. She seems like a nice kid. Leonidis and his lot didn't say anything about meeting anyone else from off-world."

"She may've observed them without them knowing about it. I'll need to scan through the rest of these entries to see if there was any contact," the Doctor said.

"How long'll that take?" asked Jules. "I'm freezing."

"A few hours," he said, "depending how long each entry is."

"So what was all that gobbledygook she was going on about?"

"The purpose of her mission was to get this planet categorized as Category Epsilon, which indicates a fragile ecosystem," the Doctor explained. "It protects the planet from being settled or mined or forested. It's a basically an order that says 'hands off.'"

"And what's Aldo Nova, or whatever it is?"

"Aldrovanda," he laughed. "It's the nearest sun with inhabited planets. Aldrovanda Seven's the seat of government for the system. They claim jurisdiction over the Nelumbo System—although technically, they can't, now, since Nelumbo Minor's inhabited."

"What d'you mean, 'technically?'"

His expression grew stormy. "Technically in the sense that the people of Nelumbo Minor don't have any kind of technology or defense to back up a claim of sovereignty," he said.

"So anyone can come here and take what they want?"

The Doctor looked distressed. "Those spears would be no match for even the most primitive firearms," he said. "Leonidis and his people would be wiped out."

"We should warn him!" said Jules.

"Warn him of what? A vague threat he'd have no defense against?"

Jules had an uneasy sensation in her stomach. "Why would that woman come here if she didn't think there was a threat?" she persisted.

"We'll have to find her and ask her, or else sort through all these journal entries," the Doctor said.

"Well, let's do it. I'll wrap up in a blanket."

"Jules—"

"I'm serious, Doctor." Then, feeling like an idiot, Jules said, "This is the part where you tell me there's nothing on this planet worth having, innit?"

"No, there is," he said.

"What is it, then? Oh, my God—have they got oil here?"

"Jules—it couldn't be more obvious."

She stared at him. "Water?"

He nodded, "Yes."

"Shit," she whispered. Then, "But it's salt water. Nobody could drink it."

"It could be desalinated. Easily."

"So, we should—"

A bright flash of blue light interrupted the conversation, and Jules yelped as a young man appeared out of thin air.

"Delilah?" he said, staring at Jules and the Doctor. "Where's Delilah? What are you doing here?"

"I know you!" Jules blurted. "Your voice—I've heard your voice!"

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

"Is he real?" Jules asked the Doctor. "Or is he a hologram?"

"Of course I'm real, and you're trespassing on this ship!" the young man said, glaring.

"He teleported here," the Doctor murmured.

"Seriously? Like Star Trek?"

The Doctor heaved a loud, exasperated sigh. He asked the young man, "Who are you?"

"Maxwell Orion, captain of the Odysseus, Aldrovanda Three."

"Maxwell Orion! Your om-com accidentally patched through to my ship!" The Doctor offered a hand. "I'm the Doctor, and this is Jules Paxton."

"That was you?" The young man shook hands with both time-travelers, his expression still wary. "I thought there might be some interference due to solar flares."

"So, what brings you here?" the Doctor beamed, exuding his familiar charming confidence; Jules realized this was how he got people to trust him.

The young man stared around the ship's interior, appearing close to tears.

"I'm looking for a scientist named Delilah Delamere," he said. "She was on a research expedition to Nelumbo Minor, and I haven't heard from her for four months."

To be continued…