#unit team

UNIT HQ, Tower of London

Martha Jones walked into Osgood’s lab, two mugs of coffee in her hands, and smiled at the sight of the younger woman busy at work, several laptops scattered across her workspace.

“I don’t mean to interrupt you,” she said as she approached. “But I thought you might like some coffee.”

Osgood looked up, a smile lighting up her face. “Doctor Jones.”

“Martha, please,” she said easily, smiling back. She felt a certain fondness for the younger woman who, besides being a genius scientist, was such a Doctor fangirl that Martha couldn’t help wondering what the Time Lord had made of her. Maybe she’d ask the younger woman, one day.

“Thanks.”

“Where do you want me to put it?”

“Anywhere you like,” Osgood said, distractedly, her attention back on the silver laptop nearest to her seat.

“Is it okay to move the Raven?” Martha asked, spying a coaster beneath the clockwork bird.

“Has it finished charging?”

“It has. I thought the Raven Master was in charge of them?” She can still remember her astonishment when Kate Stewart had revealed that many of the Ravens scattered around the Tower of London were actually clockwork machines rather than real life birds, although there were still some of those around, too.

“Oh, this one got an infection. Some kind of parasite. Which raises all sorts of questions about micro niche predators and evolutionary process.”

Martha chuckled. “You should write a paper on that,” she suggested.

“Who’d read it except us?” Osgood asked.

“Well, anyone who deals with AIs, I imagine.”

“Hmm.”

“So is the Raven why you’re here tonight?”

Osgood shrugged. “There’s always something that needs dealing with. Hallowe’en’s not really my thing, anyway.”

“I suppose we see enough monsters in the day job,” Martha said lightly.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just – supernatural stories are always so vague. I like things to have an explanation. Can’t solve a problem without understanding the cause.”

Martha nodded, though Osgood’s attention was still on her laptop screen. “Um, Osgood, are there meant to be alerts all over this screen?”

“Which laptop?”

“The red one,” Martha said.

“I call that one Marconi,” Osgood said, wheeling across to look at the screen. “Let’s have a look.”

“Transmission detected, source unverified,” Martha read aloud. “Huh.”

“I’ll open a monitoring channel.”

A rather slurred sounding computerised voice began to speak. “This is Voxstell 3. This is Voxstell 3. Broadcasting on 1815 megacycles. Scheduled test transmission Beta 2 begins.”

“That’s strange,” Osgood said, a concerned expression on her face.

“In what way?” asked Martha, feeling her own concern building a little at Osgood’s tone.

“Well, the Voxstell class of satellite dates back to the Sixties. They handled communication. Uh, limited video, greater audio capacities. Some covert surveillance.”

Martha couldn’t help a chuckle escaping. “You just know this stuff?” she asked, somehow unsurprised. “Off the top of your head?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“No,” Martha assured her.

“It shouldn’t still be broadcasting. It’s obsolete. Would’ve run out of power years ago.”

“After fifty years, it’ll be out of warranty,” Martha said, still attempting to keep things light, although her gut was churning with an uneasiness that seemed disproportionate to the situation. She felt a prickling on the back of her neck and hands as the minute hairs there erected, like a cat raising its hackles.

“Exactly. The battery stack must be long dead. I wonder why it’s back online.”

“Could be a zombie satellite,” Martha said, not entirely seriously. “It is Hallowe’en after all.”

“Well, something’s brought it back to life.”

The computer voice was clearer now. “This is Voxstell 3. Broadcasting on 1815 megacycles. Scheduled test transmission Beta 2 begins. Spiritus abyssi. Ego te voco atque obtestor. Tuae vires firment manum meam. Offero quod vis. Concedo tibi permisisse ut hanc terram deambules donec.”

“That’s Latin,” Martha said, startled to recognise it.

“You know Latin?” asked Osgood, sounding surprisingly impressed.

“Yes, I learnt it for medical school.”

“What does it say?”

“Give me a second.” Martha grabbed a notepad and pencil from amid the clutter on Osgood’s workspace and began transcribing the message, then translating it. “It says, ‘Spirit of the Abyss. I summon and invoke you. May your powers strengthen my hand. I offer what you want. I grant you leave to walk up this Earth until…’”

“Until what?”

Martha shrugged. “No idea, that’s where it breaks off, then it begins again from ‘Spirit of the Abyss’, so it’s transmitting on a loop.”

“Okay, so that’s the English translation, but what does it mean. Why is a fifty year old satellite suddenly broadcasting in Latin, anyway?”

Martha shook her head, feeling distinctly uneasy. “I’ve no idea. It’s an invocation though, from a Demonology, at a guess.”

“A Demonology?”

“Uh-huh. Can I ask, why are you monitoring this thing, anyway?”

“It’s a sort of hobby, really,” Osgood said, a tinge of what Martha interpreted as embarrassment around her, and she wondered why Osgood, who usually revelled in her geekiness, would be embarrassed by the admission.

“Audio archaeology. There’s much more up there than we admit to. Or even remember. We’ve been active in space for quite a while. We’ve left a legacy.” She’d been fiddling with something on the red laptop, but now announced, “I’m capturing the stream.”

“It’s getting louder,” Martha observed.

“Now that’s definitely odd. I’d expect an occasional ping as the orbit decays and sunlight reactivates old solar panels. But not this. Signal strength is increasing. It’s highly directional, focused.”

There was a sudden silence. “It’s stopped,” Martha said, surprised by how relieved she felt. Then she realised that the idea of a half century out of date satellite suddenly sending out a broadcast invoking demons in Latin was pretty worrying. For a moment she couldn’t help wishing the Doctor was here, but she pushed that thought aside immediately.

“No, wait,” said Osgood as the computerised voice spoke once more.

“Spiritus abyssi. Ego te voco atque obtestor. Tuae vires firment manum meam. Offero quod vis. Concedo tibi permisisse ut hanc terram deambules donec.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely worrying,” she muttered.

“The signal strength is still increasing,” Osgood said. “It’s a complex waveform. Bandwidth across several frequencies simultaneously. This doesn’t tally with Sixties tech at all.”

“Where’s Kate?” Martha asked, realising she hadn’t seen her all day, apart from a brief conversation in the Infirmary around 8am, when she’d checked in with Martha about the Terrellian which they’d picked up in deepest Yorkshire thirty-six hours ago after its spaceship crash landed there. Luckily, Martha had encountered the four-armed humanoid species once before, so she knew roughly how to look after it while it recovered from the crash. Then they’d help it to repair its ship so that it could be on its way.

“She’s in the Borders, headed up there early this morning.”

“What’s she doing there?” asked Martha curiously.

“Visiting an old UNIT property. She wanted to take a look and keep it low-key. She left me a message earlier to let me know she’d arrived. Uh, here –” Osgood tapped at her phone, then held it out to Martha, who listened intently to the voicemail:

Kate here. I hope you’re getting this. These hills may be doing my soul good, but they’re murder on cell phone reception. I’m almost at Ealdon House. Details attached. It’s been in Ministry hands since the War. More recently it housed UNIT research projects. I understand the house never had a great reputation. Staff couldn’t settle and UNIT eventually abandoned it. For some reason it’s still on the books. I was looking over our finances and recognised the name. We’re even paying for a caretaker. Well, it’s probably an admin error, but I want to look it over and to make sure nothing’s been left behind.

“Hmm, I think we should give her a call and let her know what’s going on. It might be nothing, but it might be something, and she won’t thank us if we don’t keep her in the loop if it turns out to be something big.”

Osgood snorted. “Yeah, she wouldn’t be happy, at all.”

Martha handed Osgood’s phone back, then pulled her own from her pocket, looked up Kate’s number in her contacts, and hit the call button, pressing the phone to her ear, and waiting impatiently as it rang and rang, before the voicemail kicked in.

She sighed, then left a message asking Kate to call her back at her earliest opportunity.

“No luck?” asked Osgood.

“No. Hopefully once she hears the voicemail she’ll call back as soon as she can.”

“She did say there’s not much of a phone signal up there.”

“I know. I just – something about that transmission is making me feel really uneasy in a purely visceral sense.”

“What do you mean?” asked Osgood, turning around fully to give Martha her full attention.

“Why would a Sixties satellite be broadcasting in Latin and invoking demons at that? When the signal strengthened I felt a churning in my stomach, like I was facing down Daleks or the Master, and the hairs on the back of my neck and hands all stood up. Those were involuntary physiological responses, and they were much stronger than I’d have expected in response to a satellite broadcast.”

“Is it because it’s Hallowe’en?” Osgood asked. “Power of suggestion and all that?”

Martha shrugged. “Maybe, but I don’t think so.” She shook her head, then sighed. “Let me know if anything further happens regarding the satellite or if Kate phones you. I’ll let you know if she phones me, but in the meantime I should get back to my patient.”

“Okay.”

UNIT HQ, Tower of London

The following morning Martha was in the staff canteen, grabbing some breakfast, when Josh and Osgood came hurrying in, evidently looking for someone. That someone, apparently, being Martha as they beelined directly for her table.

“Tell Doctor Jones what you told me,” Osgood said, not bothering with a greeting. She pulled out the chair opposite Martha and sat down with a thump. Josh smiled at her, then settled in the seat beside Osgood.

“Morning you two,” Martha said. “What’s up?”

“I went to a friend’s Hallowe’en party last night and it got really weird.”

“As in everyone got drunk and/or high weird or UNIT weird?” asked Martha.

“UNIT weird,” Josh said. “Shortly after I got there my friend, Phoebe, went into the kitchen to get us both a drink and then she suddenly screamed. When I ran into the kitchen she told me she’d seen a shape, a grey man, which came through the wall.”

“And it wasn’t a Hallowe’en prank?” Martha asked a little dubiously.

“I asked that,” said Josh. “But Phoebe was very insistent, said, ‘I can tell the difference between someone in an old bedsheet and a – thing… A thing shaped like a person. But wasn’t. It was – wrong.’”

“And that was all she said?” Martha asked.

“She said she became aware there was someone behind her and she thought it was me, but when she turned around there was, in her words, ‘a grey smear seeping through the wall’ which was reaching towards her. I suggested that she sit down, and I’d get her a drink of water, but she said she didn’t want water because she felt sick to her stomach.”

Martha frowned.

“That sounds a bit like the reaction you had to hearing that Latin invocation last night, even though you didn’t see anything,” said Osgood. “But that’s not all. Tell her, Josh.”

“Phoebe and I were still talking when there was suddenly a lot of screaming from the other partygoers in the sitting room. When I investigated they were cowering against the wall, clearly terrified. Phoebe insisted the grey smear had returned. She described it as ‘Quivering and twisting and blurring’ and said that it was making her sick inside. I tried to get her to show me where it was, but she was too terrified to go near it.”

“And you couldn’t see it?” Martha asked, puzzled.

“Not a thing.”

“So what happened next?”

“It suddenly vanished, according to Phoebe, and the rest of the partygoers just fled the house. I thought it might be a mass hallucination or maybe someone spiked the drinks.”

“You were the only one unaffected?” asked Osgood.

“Completely. No nausea. No terror.”

“No ghosts?”

“Not a hint,” confirmed Josh.

“And they all saw the same thing. Grey spectre. Humanoid in shape but blurred and shifting. That does sound more like a mass hallucination, than anything,” Osgood said. “I wish I’d been there.”

“You might’ve been scared,” Josh pointed out.

“But it would’ve been an amazing opportunity to study a haunting first hand. What time did the phenomenon stop?”

“Let’s see. About 22:35.”

“That tallies with the transmission from Voxstell shutting off,” Osgood observed.

“Do you think they’re linked?” asked Martha.

“I don’t know, but it’s possible.”

“The mad thing is, Phoebe kept saying her flat couldn’t be haunted because it was too new.”

“Well, Stone Tape theory suggests sufficiently traumatic events can impress themselves on background landscapes, like data on a hard drive,” Osgood said, earning herself stares from both Martha and Josh.

“Stone Tape theory?” asked Martha.

“I’ll lend you the DVD. Nigel Kneale is god.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Martha said dryly.

“The point is it doesn’t have to be recent. The trigger event could’ve happened on the same site years ago. What was there before Phoebe’s flat?”

“Should be easy enough to find out,” Josh said, getting out his phone and tapping at it. “West London, W12.”

“Was it a television studio?” asked Osgood.

“Haunted by the ghosts of light entertainment?” joked Josh, then he looked down again at his phone. “Oh, you’re right. How did you know that? Go on, impress me.”

“Voxstell was designed to carry television satellite link ups, amongst other things. The transmission I intercepted was strong, but narrow cast. It occurred to me the reception site might never have changed.”

“But it would’ve targeted an aerial or a dish, surely, not a room full of people?”

“Hmm. And the people are the party saw spectres not TV pictures. Ah, it’s just a theory. There’s something about that broadcast – I’ll need to do a full analysis.”

“What does Kate reckon?” asked Josh.

“I don’t know. We haven’t been able to get hold of her. Both Martha and I tried yesterday evening when Voxstell 3 started broadcasting.”

“So where is she?”

“Visiting an old UNIT property, um, Ealdon House, in the Borders.”

“You’re worried about her,” Josh observed.

“Well, she rang me about ten thirty last night, without making any reference to either mine or Martha’s calls. Hang on, I’ll play you her voicemail.” She picked up her own phone and tapped a couple of times.

Osgood, Kate again. I’m no closer to understanding why UNIT kept Ealdon House. Perhaps it’s a question for my predecessors. I don’t think I’m going to be back tonight, weather’s taken a turn for the worse. Perhaps Mrs Donnelley can recommend a B&B, or I might have to prevail on her to –

Kate’s voice broke off, then she could be heard speaking again, Hello, is there someone there? Mrs Donnelley is that you? Osgood, I’m going to call you back. There’s someone playing games and – The voicemail cut off completely.

“Odd,” Josh said. “And you haven’t spoken since?”

“No and she’s missed today’s check in,” Osgood said, checking the time on her phone.

“That’s not like her,” Martha observed. She might not’ve been working for UNIT in London for long, but even she knew Kate Stewart to be very organised and not at all the sort of woman to miss a designated check in.

“We should go and see what’s up. Take the chopper.”

“Josh. That’s a bit extravagant,” objected Osgood.

“I’m verifying the operational status of my commanding officer,” Josh insisted.

“He’s right, you know,” Martha said. “It’s very unlike Kate to miss a check in and it’s weird that she didn’t make any allusion to either your message or mine regarding Voxstell. We should go and see if she’s okay.”

“I need to keep a watch on Voxstell in case there’s another transmission,” Osgood said. “I need UNIT equipment.”

“Then take it with you. Build a signal booster or something. Be Osgood,” suggested Josh, half laughing.

Martha hid a smile at his boyish enthusiasm.

“Hmm. Good elevation in the Borders. Clear line of sight. Could even improve telemetry. I’d need to pack a few things.”

“Is that a yes to the road trip?” asked Josh, eagerly.

“Mm, okay. You win. Road trip it is.”

“Result!” crowed Josh.

“Captain Carter,” Martha said, her tone chiding, and he simmered down a bit, but not much, she noticed. “Why don’t you go and assist Osgood in getting her equipment to the chopper and I’ll fetch my medical kit and also let Colonel Shindi where we’re going.”

“Shindi?” repeated Josh, sounding surprised.

Martha raised her eyebrows. “He is your immediate superior, Captain. He should be informed of your whereabouts if you’re leaving HQ.”

“Uh, yes, of course.”

Martha nodded and he got to his feet, then headed for the door, Osgood trailing in his wake. Martha shook her head at his cavalier attitude to authority, then hurriedly ate the last of her breakfast, before making her way back to the Infirmary to ensure that her deputy, who was looking after the Terrellian today, knew how to reach her if he needed her assistance.

Afterwards Martha headed to her office to pick up her medical kit. Shortly after she’d stopped travelling with the Doctor a parcel had arrived at her flat one day which, when she’d opened it, had revealed a smart leather doctor’s bag, the old-fashioned sort you saw in TV period dramas. It had been embossed with ‘Dr Martha Jones’ in gold lettering and within had been a number of items which the Doctor had labelled clearly for use with a variety of aliens’ illnesses and injuries. There was also a high tech scanner that his note told her worked as a diagnostic tool on a variety of species, not just humans. She also carried a variety of standard and not-quite-standard items for treating humans, many of which she’d found useful during her year walking the world. She pulled on her red leather jacket, then hefted the bag from her desk, and headed out to find the others, hoping against hope that she would find Kate in reasonably good health.

Previously…

Kate finished leaving a message for Osgood, then parked her car outside Ealdon House and climbed from it. She spotted a young man attacking a hedge with clippers and called out to him, “Am I good to park here?”

“Oh yeah, wherever you like,” he responded cheerfully. “Go mad. Space is one thing we’re not short of.”

“You’re expecting me, I take it?” she asked him, unclear as to his identity.

“You’re from the Trust, aren’t you? What was it? United National Houses of Interest Trust?”

“Near enough,” she told him. “Is Mrs Donnelley inside?”

“Uh-huh. She’s pretty stressed out. The old girl’s used to being queen of the castle. You will be nice to her now, I don’t want her getting upset.”

“I’m here to assess the situation and then decide what action to take,” Kate assured him, wondering if he was related to Mrs Donnelley. “I think that sounds reasonable, don’t you?”

“Can’t think of the last time anybody checked in. I always reckoned we’d been forgotten.”

“Well, nothing gets completely forgotten. Sooner or later it turns up again and someone has to deal with it.” She turned away from him, planning to take the shortest route from the car parking area to the house.

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that way!” he called.

“Why not?”

“Wind’s getting up again. The last gale loosened some masonry. You don’t want to be in the way if it drops.”

“Thanks for the warning,” she said, nodding at him, then going the longer way around to the front door. When it opened she saw a woman in her seventies with short grey hair, blue eyes, and a severe expression.

“So sorry, I saw the car, but I’m not as fast as I was. Miss Stewart, isn’t it?”

“Kate’s fine. And please, don’t apologise,” Kate said with a smile.

“Alice Donnelley. Welcome to Ealdon House. What’s left of it, at least. Now, tell me, would like something to eat or do you prefer the guided tour?”

“Oh, I’ve been on the road so long, I’d like to stretch my legs, if that’s alright.”

“We’ll start in the hall. I can point things out and then you can explore at leisure.”

“Splendid.” Kate couldn’t help noticing that while the other woman was courteous, she wasn’t very friendly; in fact, she had an air of hostility about her, and Kate couldn’t help wondering what was causing it. She said nothing, however, simply walking beside the older woman as she led the way.

“Through here we have the State Rooms. Drawing Room, Breakfast Room, Library, and so forth. I’m afraid their contents have got terribly muddled. I’ve tried to rearrange the surviving furniture but without proper help –”

“What about your friend outside?” Kate asked, still curious as to who the young man might be.

“My son? He keeps the gardens in check. The rest of the time he does something clever with computers. I don’t know where he gets it from.”

“Ah, they say intelligence descends on the female side, don’t they?” Kate said, smiling and hoping to thaw the other woman’s frostiness. To no avail, as it turned out.

“I wouldn’t know about that,” Alice said immediately. “Now, if you’ll take these stairs you’ll find the bedrooms and above that the servants’ quarters and Nursery. You mustn’t expect anything too grand. The Army repurposed much of the house. I expect the original features are buried somewhere, but it’s all plasterboard and woodchip. The worst excesses of the Seventies.”

Kate couldn’t help a soft laugh escaping. “Yes, I remember.”

“You do? Huh. Forgive me, my dear, you hardly look old enough.”

“I mean, I remember those rooms. That awful wallpaper.”

“You know the house?”

“I came here once when I was a girl. I wasn’t certain before but standing here it – it’s all coming back.”

“How extraordinary! It wasn’t a place for a child.”

“My father was stationed here,” Kate explained. “He was always moving about. I never saw him much. I think it was meant to be a sort of holiday for us both. I didn’t stay long though.”

“Perhaps you were bored. Children do get bored. Not much to do in the country.”

Kate found that response rather suspiciously dismissive. As a child she’d adored going walking, horse riding, or cycling in the countryside. “I don’t think so. Though –”

“Yes?”

“It rained a lot,” she murmured, the memories coming back more strongly. “We were stuck inside, me and this older boy. We got into trouble for running down a long, dark room. It echoed right down the building, disturbed everyone.”

“Sound does carry in the strangest of ways.”

“I remember – there was a rhyme we called out as we ran through the dark. What was it?”

“I’m sure I don’t know, Miss Stewart.” Alice Donnelley sounded almost testy, now.

“Ah. ‘Run, now, John Ealdon, fast as you can, flee from the fingers of the little Grey Man.’ There must have been more, but it’s gone.”

“Were you a terribly macabre little girl?”

“Not especially. Does it mean something?” She couldn’t help watching Alice Donnelley with keen interest now, certain the other woman knew more than she was letting on.

“Well, John Ealdon would be Lord Ealdon. He built the house. But what grisly history it commemorates, I couldn’t say.”

“Why do you say ‘grisly’?”

“Oh, old rhymes preserve folk memories or misdemeanours or disasters. I suppose the verse encodes the memory and helps transmit it. These days people might call it a meme.”

“Oh, that’s an interesting observation. Are you a historian, Mrs Donnelley?”

“No, just a caretaker. Old houses like this, Miss Stewart, they accrete fancies and legends in much the same way they pick up mice and damp. Things hang around no matter how you try to shift them. Of course, if there was to be an increase in budget from your organisation some restoration would be possible.”

“I don’t think that’s likely, I’m afraid,” Kate said, not feeling quite as regretful as she sounded. She was beginning to feel a prickle of suspicion, but she had no idea why. “UNIT’s budget is stretched, and our responsibilities are heavy. We’re not really in the conservation business.”

“I understand that, I’m not a fool.”

“Then you’ll appreciate we can’t go on maintaining a building we no longer use.”

“What do you propose?” demanded Donnelley. “To throw me out in the street after all my years of service?”

“I don’t think it’ll come to that. UNIT looks after its own. There could be money for a pension, if not a mansion. We’ll talk.”

She left the older woman at the bottom of the staircase and began to make her way upstairs, conscious of Donnelley’s hostile stare following her upwards.

After a good look around, she pulled out her phone and finding she had a signal, she called Osgood, who didn’t pick up, so she left a message for her.

“Osgood, Kate again. I’m no closer to understanding why UNIT kept Ealdon House. Perhaps it’s a question for my predecessors. I don’t think I’m going to be back tonight, weather’s taken a turn for the worse. Perhaps Mrs Donnelley can recommend a B&B, or I might have to prevail on her to –” She broke off at the sound of knocking behind her. “Hello, is there someone there?” The knocking continued. “Mrs Donnelley is that you? I’m almost finished up.” When the knocking didn’t stop she started to feel irate. “Osgood, I’m going to call you back. There’s someone playing games and they can’t have realised I’m not in the mood for jokes!”

“Run now, Kate Stewart, fast as you can, flee from the fingers of the little Grey Man. When the skies are howling and the Moon turns bright, he’ll come a-crawling on the pitch black night.”

“Is that supposed to scare me?” Kate demanded, annoyed that someone was playing silly beggars.

“Scare you?” asked the young man she’d seen outside as he stepped into the room. “No, no, Kate, you’ve got it wrong.”

“I’ve been threatened by specialists, you know.” She couldn’t help feeling this was a slightly ridiculous remark even as she made it.

“Kate! I hoped you’d remember. I couldn’t believe it when I figured it out? Don’t you recognise me?”

“Look, I – I haven’t got time for this.”

“We’ve both changed – well, it has been a long time.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I – I – I didn’t place you, not till Mother said you’d been here before. We used to raise hell, remember? Running down corridors, shouting that daft old rhyme.”

“Ben?”

“’fraid so.”

“That was you?” She gave a sort of snort of disbelief. “My word!”

“Well, I was shorter, well, we were both a lot shorter.”

“Yeah, you – you had those awful shoes and – and that hair!”

“Ooh don’t remind me!” said Ben, sounding dismayed at the recollection.

“Better now, I think! But, uh, why were you here? I forget.”

“Well, I, I, I grew up here. Only kid for miles. Any company kind of sticks in mind.”

“Mrs Donnelley’s been caretaker here longer than I realised,” Kate observed, surprised.

“Oh, no, no that came later. Back, back then she was with the Army lot.”

“Doing what?” Kate was surprised by the fact that Alice Donnelley hadn’t mentioned that.

“You’d have to ask her. She’s, she’s always been cagey about it.”

“I will. But, but what are you doing up here?”

“Ah, well, making sure things are shut up tight. This place is full of cracks so wind and rain gets in. The old girl says you’re planning to close it down.”

“Well, UNIT has no use for it any more. It’s for the best,” she said as soothingly as she could.

“Oh, well, you’re probably right. Just don’t tell her I said that.” He sighed. “After the Army left it was just the two of us. Now it’s only her. I think it’s time she moved on, too.”

Behind them a door opened noisily, and Kate couldn’t help exclaiming, “You missed a door!”

“Ah, no, I shut them, but they open up again. There’s a wind that blows through the Long Gallery like you wouldn’t believe.”

“The Long Gallery?” Kate asked, slightly confused.

“You know, the room we used to run through? Shouting to prove we weren’t afraid.”

“Yeah, I asked Mrs Donnelley about that. She left it off the itinerary.”

“Well, it’s not safe,” Ben said.

“She said there was rot in the joists. The draught running through it brought in the damp,” Kate observed, wondering what Ben would say since his mother hadn’t mentioned the Long Gallery to her at all.

Ben nodded. “No matter how we try and block it off something always gets through.”

“I’d like to take a look.”

“I – I wouldn’t,” stuttered Ben.

“Let’s risk it. Where’s the harm?” Kate asked light-heartedly, her curiosity aroused now.

“Well, the lighting’s gone for a start.”

“Not a problem,” Kate assured him. “I’ve got a torch app on my phone.”

“And the floorboards,” protested Ben.

“I’ll tread lightly. Oh, come on. I want to lay a childhood ghost to rest.” She gestured for him to lead the way, and with a long suffering expression, he did, heading into a long dark room. “After all that plasterboard the walls here are untouched. Stone and wood panelling. I – I wonder why.”

“Well, there’s plenty of other rooms. Would you work in here?”

“All these Gothic alcoves for portraits. Left empty.”

“Ah, there’s never been any pictures, not that I remember.”

“Were they sold? Or lost?”

“One story says the pictures wouldn’t stay on the walls. Something always knocked them down.”

“The draught you mean?” Kate asked.

“Could be.”

“And the other?”

“People never stayed long enough to look at them. Something would always chase them out.”

Kate laughed. “The Grey Man?”

“You remember?”

“Oh, come on, that was just a game.”

“Yes, but – uh, why don’t you leave this until tomorrow? Come downstairs, eh? Mother has a flat in the back room. The fire’s on. It’s almost cosy.”

“No, you go on.”

“Kate!” he protested.

“I’ll catch up.”

Ben sighed. “Look, just don’t stay too long, eh?” He left.

“There is something about this room,” Kate observed aloud. “Something off. Can’t – can’t place it. Strange sort of atmosphere.” She gulped. “Heavy. Catching in my throat.”

The wind whistled through, and Kate dropped her phone or perhaps it was tugged out of her hands, she wasn’t entirely clear.

“Oh. Dammit.” She sighed. “Dammit, where’s my phone.” She patted around on the floor, then couldn’t help a yelp escaping, and instantly felt glad that Ben had gone.

“Eugh! Floor’s so damp and cold.” She shuddered. “Oh, I really hope that’s moss and not a rat!”

Behind her the door blew open violently.

“Ben is that you?” she asked as she continued patting around on the floor, trying to locate her dropped phone. “Why didn’t you prop the door open? I can’t see a thing! Oh, god, I need to find my phone.”

She sensed a presence and looked up. “You’re, you’re not Ben. The fingers! The Grey Man. Long, twisted fingers reaching out. No. NO! Stay back! No! NO!”

She wasn’t even aware of collapsing unconscious to the floor.

Today

“Now that is interesting,” Osgood said.

“What, proper ‘land the chopper’ interesting or ‘nod politely’ interesting, because last time you said that it was a Stone Age burial mound,” Josh asked.

“It was very impressive,” protested Osgood, making Martha smile.

“For cavemen.”

“Before we left, I pulled the UNIT data on Ealdon House onto my tablet,” Osgood told them. “Staff records, research projects. Some of the files are inaccessible.”

“Perhaps they’re beyond your clearance level?” suggested Martha.

“No, they’d still be there, but flagged. I only realised when I looked at the record location numbers. They should be sequential, but there are entries missing.”

“Meaning what, exactly?” asked Martha.

“Meaning files are missing too, whole projects.”

“Okay, that is a bit interesting,” conceded Josh.

“Given time I should be able to retrieve them from the audit logs, but material has been removed and it’s been done with skill.”

“So, this is Ealdon House,” Josh observed as a large house came into view.

“You don’t sound impressed,” commented Martha, smiling.

“I’m working out how close I can land without blowing the place down,” retorted Josh.

“It’s lasted three hundred years, we’ll be okay,” Osgood said, then added somewhat doubtfully, “I think.”

The three of them were unaware that they were being scrutinised from one of the ground floor rooms inside.

“This is for Miss Stewart’s benefit, you mark my words,” said Donnelley, disgruntled.

“They sent a helicopter for Kate?” Ben asked disbelievingly. “She couldn’t be that important, surely.”

“Oh, the Army loves theatrics. Given a choice between doing a job quietly and efficiently or with the maximum of bluster, they’ll plump for the latter every time.”

Ben sighed. “It’s been years, Mother, isn’t it time you let it go?”

“I’m not the one stirring things up,” Donnelley retorted. “If they want a fight, they’ve got one. I’m not so old I can’t defend myself.”

“Mother, please.” Ben couldn’t help the pleading note in his voice.

“You’d better go and deal with them.”

He left his mother’s quarters, making his way outside to where a man and two women were talking as the man unloaded some boxes from the helicopter.

“It’s fascinating, really. All sorts of scans relating to the property in the UNIT records. Title deeds, local history extracts –” Osgood said.

“Ow, less history, more lifting,” said Josh, sounding a little put out.

“Lord Ealdon, who built the house, died in strange circumstances,” Osgood continued, apparently not yet done with her local history lesson.

“Old houses have stories. Live somewhere long enough, people die. They can’t all go happily,” retorted Josh.

“Listen,” Osgood said insistently as she read aloud from her tablet. “‘John Ealdon ordered a great gallery built, therein to be placed all the treasures of his family. But when it was done, he found he could take no pride in the place. A strange fever came upon him each and every time he set foot there as though the spirits and demons of the very ether took against his presence. One night as a storm blew round the house he went to the gallery to gaze upon a portrait of his late wife, but something drove him from the room, fear so great that in his terror he flung himself from a window and dashed himself to the ground.’”

“Well, they do say ‘Pride cometh before a fall’,” Josh said in an irreverent tone.

“I’m going to ignore that,” Osgood said pointedly. “Look, you want to pay attention to this next bit. ‘As Ealdon lay dying his last words were, “I flee from the hand of the Grey Man.”’ Sound familiar?”

“No, I told you, I didn’t see anything,” retorted Josh, clearly cross.

“It’s interesting that the image repeats across time, isn’t it?”

“Fascinating, but not conclusive.”

“I was right to bring my special equipment.” Osgood’s satisfaction was clear.

“Uh, ah. Now, this is a blatant and shameful exploitation of my strength. What’s in it?”

“EMF meter, EVP recorder, IR thermal cameras, quantum spirit box, REM pod,” recited Osgood. “A full kit for analysing and quantifying paranormal phenomena.”

“Ah, Ghostbuster Osgood. Why am I not surprised?”

Before she could respond, a tall, older man arrived beside the helicopter.

“Hello! You found us. I’m Ben Donnelley,” he said, holding out a hand.

“Hello,” said Osgood, only briefly shaking hands.

“Hi,” Martha said, taking her time to assess the man.

“Uh, can I carry anything?” Ben asked.

“Ah,” said Josh, a note of satisfaction in his voice at the offer.

“Where’s Ms Stewart?” asked Martha, before Josh could start.

“Oh,” Ben said. “She’s in my mother’s quarters.” He gave her directions and Martha nodded an acknowledgement.

“I’ll go and check in with her,” Martha told Josh and Osgood. “See you shortly.”

The pair nodded, their attention clearly reverting back to Osgood’s equipment, but Martha was aware of Ben Donnelley’s eyes on her back as she strode towards the house.

Elsewhere

“Miss Stewart? Miss Stewart?

“Ugh.”

“Are you awake?” asked Alice Donnelley.

“I – I – uh, no, I refuse – ugh. No, I won’t say ‘What happened?’ or ‘Where am I?’ I am not going to be that person.”

“You’re in my rooms,” Donnelley said. “Ben found you on the floor of the Long Gallery and brought you downstairs. Here –”

Kate groaned again, feeling distinctly disoriented.

“Now, sit up. Have a sip of this coffee.” She held out a mug as Kate pulled herself into a seated position on the sofa and she accepted it, sipping it, and feeling relief as it started to revive her.

“Can you explain why I needed finding?” she asked.

“You fainted.”

“No, I don’t faint,” Kate said firmly.

“You fell and hit your head. Slipped, most like. Rooms that are closed up do become unpleasant.”

“No, I, um, I saw something. A grey shape.”

“I suspect concussion. Hallucinations are not an uncommon side effect.”

“No, I saw that thing well before I ‘fainted’. I was – I was scared. I couldn’t breathe. That’s not like me either.”

“You must expect some degree of confusion,” Donnelley said. Her tone seemed dismissive of Kate’s experience. “You’ve been out some time.”

“How long?” asked Kate, somewhat alarmed.

“Long enough for your colleagues to come looking for you. They made quite an entrance, landing that thing on the lawn.”

“Osgood?” asked Kate.

“I don’t know. A young man in Army uniform, a young woman wearing a ridiculously long scarf and black framed glasses, and a young Black woman.”

At that moment there was a knock at the door and Donnelley scowled, then went to the door.

“I’m looking for Kate Stewart,” said Martha Jones from the doorway. “I’m Doctor Jones of UNIT.”

“She’s here,” Donnelley said. “You must expect some confusion. She fell and hit her head, I believe. I think it’s possible she has a concussion.”

“I’ll soon find out,” Martha said. She stepped past Donnelley and into the room. “Thank you, Mrs Donnelley.”

The old woman looked distinctly put out at the dismissive tone in Martha’s voice, but she went out and shut the door behind her.

Kate opened her mouth to speak, but Martha put a finger to her lips, then set something on the coffee table beside the couch where Kate was still half stretched out. Martha tapped the device, then nodded.

“Doctor Jones! I’m very glad to see you,” Kate said, aware of the heartfelt tone of her voice, but finding herself unable to manage to be her usual stoic, business-like self.

“It’s good to see you, too,” Martha said, setting her doctor’s bag on the floor beside the couch. “So, what happened?” She opened the bag and pulled out a scanner, with which Kate was very familiar.

Kate blew out a breath. “I was up in the Long Gallery after I’d had a brief conversation with Donnelley’s son, Ben. I noticed that there was a strange sort of atmosphere to the place, a sort of heaviness that caught in my throat. Then the wind whistled through, and I lost my phone. It –” She paused, momentarily feeling silly for mentioning it, but then remembered who she was talking to: Martha Jones was the most open-minded, least judgemental person in UNIT. “For a brief instant I thought I’d dropped it, but then I realised it felt more like it had been tugged out of my hand.”

“Deliberately?” asked Martha.

Kate nodded. “As if someone didn’t want me looking around up there. I was using the torch app because there were no lights, or rather, Ben said there were none. Whether they were actually functioning or not, I didn’t check.”

“Then what happened?”

“I patted around on the floor, trying to find my phone. I was still looking when the door behind me blew open violently. I thought Ben had returned since he’d been reluctant to leave me alone in there in the first place. I asked him why he hadn’t propped the door open since I couldn’t see, and I needed to find my phone. Then I –” She paused, swallowing hard, and was grateful when Martha took her left hand in her own, giving it a light squeeze.

“I sensed a presence and when I looked up, I realised it wasn’t Ben at all. It was – it appeared to be a Grey Man with long, twisted fingers that were reaching out for me. I don’t mind telling you that I shrieked at it and did my best to get out of its reach. I don’t know what happened after that because the next thing I knew I was waking up here and Donnelley was giving me coffee and telling me that you and the others had arrived.”

“Okay. I’m going to scan you, now, and make sure you don’t have a concussion.”

Kate nodded, then waited as Martha picked up the scanner and checked her over. She tried to contain her impatience as Martha worked.

“Well, you definitely don’t have a concussion,” Martha said. “Your epinephrine, norepinephrine, and cortisol levels are higher than is usual for you, which is no more than I’d expect as a consequence of you having had an encounter with a spectral manifestation.”

“You seem very accepting about the idea of ‘an encounter with a spectral manifestation’,” Kate couldn’t help observing.

“Ah, well, you haven’t heard about Josh’s friend’s Hallowe’en party, yet, nor about the rogue satellite Osgood’s tracking, which may or may nor be linked to the events at said party.”

“I’d better speak to Josh and Osgood, then.”

“I’ll get them.”

Kate nodded. “By the way, what’s with the Ultrasonic Blocking Device?”

“On the way up here, Osgood accessed UNIT’s records on Ealdon House. There are some files missing and she is of the opinion that someone outside of UNIT removed them. In light of that and the fact that you’d been out of action for several hours, it seemed wise to ensure no one could overhear our conversation.”

Kate nodded her understanding.

“I’ll fetch Josh and Osgood.”

“Thank you, Martha.”

The smile Martha gave her was warm, which was nothing unusual in itself since she’d always found Martha Jones to be a generally warm and friendly person, but today there was something about it that affected Kate in a way she hadn’t expected. She frowned, examining her feelings as the younger woman went out in search of her other team members, and she realised with a flush of heat that she was attracted to Doctor Jones, which was a little disconcerting. She scowled, then thrust the thought away since she didn’t have time to consider it.

Josh Carter arrived, knocking lightly on the doorframe, and smiling through the open door at her.

“Can I come in?” he asked, and Kate nodded. “If I’d known you were ill, ma’am, I’d have brought flowers.”

“I’d have thrown them back at you, Josh,” Kate told him with a half smile.

“Okay, cancel the flowers. Substitute a large gin.”

“Ugh, my head wouldn’t thank you,” she told him.

That elicited a raised eyebrow, then he asked, “Well, how about a boosted comms unit? A direct line to civilisation.”

“Now that I’ll take,” Kate said eagerly, accepting it from him and setting it on the table beside the UBD. She saw Josh take note of the latter’s presence and he raised both eyebrows at her, but she shook her head slightly.

“Do you want some coffee, Captain?” asked Donnelley from the doorway.

“I wouldn’t say no,” Josh said, his tone agreeable on the surface, but there was a certain tension in his manner that made Kate realise that she wasn’t the only one feeling suspicious about this situation.

“Have you seen Osgood?” Kate asked Donnelley.

“Ben’s assisting the young woman with some Sputnik gizmo. Up on the roof, would you believe?”

“Do you know, Mrs Donnelley, I don’t think you’re being entirely straight with me,” said Kate in a sweet tone that she saw Josh, in her peripheral vision, clock and wince at.

“In what way?” asked Donnelley, her tone defensive.

“You understand a lot more than you let on. Ben told me last night that you were here back when Ealdon House was a research centre.”

“There’s no mystery. My experience made me the ideal candidate to stay on.”

“You’re hardly just a caretaker though.”

“A caretaker’s all I’ve been for quite some time,” said Donnelley, her tone dismissive.

“Tell me, what was your field back then?”

“Are we to be defined by our past, Miss Stewart?”

“It’s a straight forward enough question. Why are you avoiding it?”

“There are things I signed. Secrets I keep. You can’t ask me to betray them.”

“I’m the chief of UNIT, Mrs Donnelley, it’s a moment’s work to have your records pulled at HQ.”

“Who says you’ll find them? I can vanish like a ghost if I want to.”

Kate clocked Josh’s twitch at that comment and silently willed him to keep quiet. “Yes, Mrs Donnelley, I rather believe you can.”

At that moment Martha appeared behind Donnelley and she half turned, then sighed. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

She disappeared and Martha came into the room, closing the door behind her again.

“What’s Osgood up to?” asked Kate.

“Installing a transceiver. She’s tracking a rogue satellite,” Josh said.

“That’s the one you mentioned?” Kate asked Martha, who nodded.

“It’s broadcasting again after years of silence, would you believe in Latin? Some kind of ancient summoning or invocation, Martha reckons.”

“Invoking what, exactly?” asked Kate, bemused.

“’Spirit of the Abyss, I grant you leave to walk upon this Earth’. Something like that,” Josh said.

“Nothing about whistling up a Grey Man, was there? Why are you looking at me like that? Josh, you haven’t seen it, too?”

“I haven’t but let me tell you about the Hallowe’en party I went to.”

Elsewhere

“The trap door sticks in the damp, need to give it a push,” Ben said, then heaved at the doors, grunting as the trap door opened at last.

“Not every house boasts its own turret. Very Gothic. I approve,” Osgood told him.

“Ah, it’s not that romantic, trust me. The roof leaks.”

“It’ll be very useful for clear line of sight to the horizon. Voxstell should be at 2.6 degrees west given its geostationary orbit.” She tapped at the tablet in her hand. “Got it! Now, I need somewhere to clip my high-gain transceiver.”

“What, uh, what about this rigging post?”

“Hm, should be ideal.” She clipped it in place. “Well, that’s unusual.”

“What?”

“This dish. There was an installation here before.”

“Uh, well, I don’t think we’ve ever had satellite telly. Not the old girl’s thing at all,” Ben said.

“Well, this isn’t exactly a squarial.”

“Excuse me?”

“Not domestic. It’s capable of receiving and transmitting.”

“Huh, must have been the Army. But what would they use it for?”

“That depends on what it was attached to. This cabling suggests a substantial signal load. But, it runs across the turret through this loophole in the battlement and down the side. What, what’s below here? I can’t quite see.” She leaned over the wall to look.

“The West Wing of the Long Gall –”

He cut himself off as Osgood slipped and bricks scattered, dropping down to the ground.

“Ah!” she exclaimed, startled by the realisation that she’d almost followed the bricks down.

“Look out!” Ben cried.

“Uh, that, that was close.”

Ben clasped her arm and drew her back. “I’ve got you. You almost went over.”

“Like poor John Ealdon.”

“Huh, what?”

“In the story. He fell from a window.”

“You’ve been reading up,” Ben said, and Osgood found it difficult to read his tone.

“Always do the research,” she told him. “Always be prepared.” She used her asthma inhaler.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get back inside. The transceiver can stream direct to my devices.”

“Come on, then. And watch your step.”

“Hm, I’m watching, believe me.” They left the roof and returned to the room that led up to the roof. “There. Activating now.”

“Hey, that’s – that’s a nice bit of kit.”

“Standard work issue tablet,” Osgood informed him, almost absentmindedly, her attention on the data that was streaming onto the tablet.

“I’ve never seen one like that and I see a few in my job.”

“Oh, what’s that?”

“Computer Forensics. Studied down south, got my PhD, worked in London for a while. Too much noise. So, I – uh – I came back. Now I work long distance from the village. Means I can keep an eye on Mother. Is that a custom operating system you’re running?”

“A little something I came up with,” Osgood said, with a slight cough.

“Slick interface,” Ben observed in an admiring tone. “Do you have a name for it?”

She cleared her throat. “It’s, um, O.S. Good X.”

Ben huffed a laugh. “Well, um, why not? Gotta leave your mark where you can.”

“So, computer forensics, you must know your way around all kinds of filing systems.”

“Well, I’ve got a good knowledge.”

“And about removing data?”

“Yes? Is there something you’re driving at?”

“Just a notion I’ve got percolating.”

“Well, let me know if it reaches boiling point.”

At that moment Josh came running upstairs and practically burst into the room. “Osgood? Are you okay?”

“Fine, Josh!”

“I heard a commotion. Wondered if you’d opted for the quick way down.”

“I – uh – it gets slippy up here. I caught her.”

“How very capable,” Josh said blandly. “You’d better run along. Mummy wants you.”

Ben cleared his throat, looking faintly embarrassed. “Right, um, see you later Osgood.”

“Bye Ben.” She waited for his departing footsteps to disappear. “Josh, that was rude,” she admonished him.

“I don’t like him. They’re hiding things. Both of them.”

“He was helpful.”

“You’re too trusting,” Josh said dismissively.

“Hm, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t involved. He may have the skills to have deleted those files from the UNIT database. I need to see the trace. How’s Kate?”

“Awake and barely contained. Donnelley was smothering her with blankets and motherly attention and she’s having none of it. I brought her up to speed. She wants to know the latest on your pet satellite. Any news?”

“Transceiver should’ve powered up. Let’s see.” She tapped at her tablet, which chirped back at her.

“Perhaps it’s found another dead language to serenade us in,” suggested Josh.

“It’s broadcasting again,” Osgood told him. “That’s an updated transmission number.”

“So, what does that mean? More of the same? More grey ghosts?”

“Hm. We won’t know until transmission starts.”

Downstairs

“Colonel Shindi, reporting in.”

“Colonel, it’s good to hear your voice. What’s your status?”

“I’ve a command post set up in Wood Lane, near the site of last night’s reported incursion. Carter’s party. We’re ready to evacuate civilians at any sign of disturbance. “

“Good work,” Kate said warmly. “Keep a low profile. We don’t want to alarm people unnecessarily. We don’t know if there’ll be any further activity tonight.”

“Understood. Nothing so far. Funny thing, ma’am. I’ve been at this game a long while. First time I’ve been ordered to run ghost surveillance quite this literally.”

“Roger that, Colonel. Keep in touch. You’re my eye on the ground.”

Upstairs

“You take me to all the best places, Osgood.”

“The cabling from the roof leads here. If I can locate a connection point, I’d know more about what they’re working on,” she said, scanning the room.

“There’s nothing!” Josh retorted. “Only dust.”

Behind them the door rattled ominously.

“What’s that?”

“Gallery door blowing closed?” suggested Josh, his tone doubtful. “So this is where Kate said she saw her ‘spectre’.”

“Did see her spectre,” Osgood corrected.

“Hm.”

“Unless you’re questioning the sanity of our commanding officer?”

“Oh, she’d have me court-martialled,” Josh said instantly.

“Agreed. So, if we accept that the phenomenon exists, that it’s not entirely subjective, it should be observable again.”

“You’re ghost hunting?”

“I’m ghost hunting.”

“What next? Hold hands and have a quick séance?”

“I don’t think there’s any need. Remember the story of John Ealdon? A strange fever hit him each and every time he set foot here.”

“That’s just a story,” Josh said dismissively.

“No harm in subjecting it to analysis. There are all sorts of theories about what might cause a haunting. Impressions left by psychic trauma. Reverberations from past or future events. Bleed through from parallel universes. But it – could be – it could be something much – much simpler.” She found her speech slowing as she struggled against a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Osgood, are you alright?”

“Touch of nausea.”

“You don’t look well,” Josh said, his tone solicitous now.

“How about you? Experiencing anything bad?”

“I’m a bit hungry, but apart from that.”

“I’ll keep – going then. So, what if it’s something in the environment? Something that – acts on the brain.”

“In the air, you mean? Build up of toxins.”

“Could be.”

“You’re looking worse. Pale and your forehead’s damp.”

“Elevated heartrate,” Osgood noted. “Adrenaline spiking. Tension in my stomach.”

“It’s just an old, damp room. There’s nothing to be scared of.”

Osgood gasped. “Apart from that grey thing, coming towards me. Shifting. Blurring.”

“Where?” asked Josh, alarmed.

“Right there!” Osgood pointed at it. “Getting closer. Look!”

“Osgood, there’s nothing.”

“How can’t you see it?” she demanded.

“This is like Hallowe’en. There’s no ghost! Just me and you.”

“If it’s just me seeing it, feeling it –”

“Come on. Let’s get you back before you’re sick or you pass out.”

“No! I refuse to be beaten. Adrenaline is a wonderful catalyst for thought. This fear, these feelings being generated inside me. There must be an external cause.”

“Osgood.”

“There has to be a factor to which you are not subject.” She found her chest heaving as she fought from breath. “Please. No. It’s the hands, reaching out –”

“You’re afraid Osgood, let me help you.”

“Of course, I’m afraid Josh!” she snapped. “Oh, sometimes you’re not human.”

“I am! I’m your –”

“No! That’s it!” Osgood said, realisation hitting her. “That’s why you’re not affected! You’re human but you’re different. Inside. The Nestenes left you with a plastic skeleton.”

“Ghosts don’t like plastic?” Josh asked, and Osgood found herself appreciating his attempt at levity this once.

“Your skull, it’s the same basic shape as mine, but it’s a different material. So a different resonant frequency – Of course! Infrasound!”

“Infra-what?”

“There’s a frequency, a vibration, puts pressure on the optic nerve, causes hallucinations. Josh, this room makes ghosts.”

“What can I do to stop it?”

She gasped. “So close now. Almost touching.”

“Osgood!”

She gasped again. “Change the room, change the resonance, you lose the fear.”

“How?”

“Do what you’re best at, Josh. Break something! Smash a window!”

“There’s a plan I can work with! Grab this panelling!” Suiting his actions to his words, he yanked a piece of panelling clean off the wall and used it to smash a window.

Afterwards they were both gasping, Josh from the exertion, Osgood assumed.

“It’s gone,” she said, relief flooding through her. “We stopped it. It’s gone!”

Josh laughed softly. “We busted the ghost.”

There was a rattling in the background.

“Looks like you dug something up, as well.”

“Behind the panelling. It’s an old computer terminal. There’s a printout.” He tore it off.

“What does it say?”

“Anima profundi te argeso indiget ocqa.”

“It’s the invocation. Voxstell’s broadcast.”

Meanwhile in London

“It’s no good, sir, they’re not listening,” Corporal James Morley told his commanding officer. “They’re just running. It’s blind terror, sir.”

“How many hostiles, Corporal?” asked Colonel Shindi.

“Ten spectres sighted,” Morley reported. “They’re multiplying. Moving out from the original target site.” He turned and fired rapidly at the oncoming spectres.

“Hold your fire!” snapped Shindi.

“Bullets don’t work, sir,” Morley said with a moan.

“How do you shoot at ghosts, Corporal? Can’t kill something that isn’t alive.”

“It’s spreading to the men. The closer you get to those things, the worse it feels until you can’t stand it!”

“Pull yourself together!” snapped Shindi. “I don’t wanna hear about feelings, I want action!”

“What do we do, sir?”

“Fall back,” Shindi ordered. “Stay ahead of them. Limit the damage while we find an effective weapon. Captain, start an evacuation within a five mile radius.”

“Sir. Squad! You heard the man –”

“Let’s hope they don’t head towards the centre of the city,” observed Shindi as the Captain moved away with his squad.

Ealdon House

“I’m getting multiple incident reports from London. It’s no longer limited to Josh’s Hallowe’en site. It’s spreading,” Kate said after listening to Shindi’s report.

“That ties with my analysis,” Osgood observed. “The Voxstell signal cone is widening out. There’s a massive increase in strength.”

“It’s the same phenomenon. The spectre in the Long Gallery and the incursions in London.”

“Same effect, yes. Can’t be the same cause.”

“Explain. Your best conjecture.”

“Ealdon House is three hundred years old, right? So the Long Gallery must be an accidental generator of infrasound. A freak consequence of architecture combining with local weather conditions.”

“To channel air in a way that resonates at specific frequencies?” asked Kate.

“Exactly! Infrasound can occur naturally. Earthquakes, avalanches, volcanoes. Even some predators produce it. It generates a great sense of unease. Foreboding. In extreme cases you can even get visual manifestations.”

“A ghost maker!” exclaimed Josh.

“Which your handy plastic skeleton is immune to.”

“I’m still not thanking the Nestenes.”

“When Carter smashed the window the hallucinations induced by the room ended. But someone’s found a way to generate the same kind of sound artificially. Target it. Using the satellite.”

“Weaponised sound. It could be devastating. Entire cities, countries, in panic. It’s centred on one part of London now, but how far will it spread?” asked Kate.

“The satellite signal waveform is so complex. It must be using a carrier to modulate the atmosphere. But that’s not all. I don’t understand how Voxstell’s handling it. It’s way beyond the capabilities of 1960s technology.”

“We have to shut it down. Osgood, get back to that old terminal you uncovered. If there’s any means of gaining control of that satellite, make it happen. Carter, I want you in touch with Colonel Shindi.”

“I have an idea how we can help,” Osgood said.

“Good,” said Kate. “Liaise with Carter. I’m going to confront Donnelley. We need answers. Fast!”

Osgood and Carter left the upstairs bedroom they’d gathered in to discuss the situation. Kate, with Martha following closely, made her way back downstairs to Donnelley’s private quarters.

London

Morley used a loudspeaker to address the civilians. “Keep calm! You must keep moving in an orderly fashion. You are in no danger if you follow instructions. Children, old people, and the less able will be assisted. Keep. Moving!”

“Greyhound 2 this is Greyhound 3. What’s happening, sir?” asked Josh.

Shindi pulled out his radio. “Spectre numbers are increasing, we’re getting people out of the infected areas, but if the Ghost Zone continues to spread we’ll have a mass riot on our hands. We’ve already had casualties. Civilians trampled under foot.”

“Colonel, the manifestations are being caused by specialised soundwaves. Osgood reckons our troops can avoid the worst of it we source the S6-VV shielded helmets from stock. That should help.”

“Roger that, Carter. We’re on it. What about the civilians?”

“No, we need to stop the signal. We’re doing our best.”

Ealdon House

“Doctor Donnelley, I need you to stop Voxstell. It’s causing chaos. And please, don’t deny your involvement.” Kate practically bursts into Donnelley’s room, full of fury.

“What?” asked Ben, sounding bewildered.

“You did an expert job altering our computer records, but not so good Osgood couldn’t spot it. I’ve had the original files called up from cold storage. They’re still on paper and quite unchanged.”

“What is this?” demanded Ben.

“Ben! She’s talking to me.”

“Mother?”

“I’m using her proper title,” Kate told him.

“It’s good to see some courtesy from UNIT!”

“Well enjoy it. It’s the only respect I’m likely to show you,” snapped Kate.

“Kate!” protested Ben.

“You shouldn’t go digging into the past, Miss Stewart. You might not like what you find.”

“That’s enough. I know you ran a research project here. I know you trod some very dodgy ground and I know your project was shut down, your funding terminated. Tell me, when did you get the idea to sneak back in?”

“Now hold on!” Ben protested yet again.

“You got a job as a caretaker of the very place you were thrown out of. You must have thought yourself so clever, using UNIT money to keep a roof over your head.”

“It only took a few simple file edits,” boasted Donnelley, wholly unrepentantly.

“Kate, you can’t just waltz back in here after years of nothing and accuse my mother of god knows what.”

“Sit down and shut up. She can fight her own battles.”

“Yes I can, thank you, Ben. And yes, I took UNIT’s money. They owed me! I was in disgrace, academia wouldn’t have me back. What other choice did I have?”

“If your project was stopped it was for the very best of reasons.”

“Your father never did like me!” snapped Donnelley.

“He was an excellent judge of character.”

“Called himself a soldier! He was soft.”

“I think ‘honourable’ may be the word you’re searching for,” Kate said, a steely glint in her eyes.

“The point of Ealdon House was to go beyond traditional research remits. I found the Gallery. I theorised why that room drove people away. I discovered a means to harness that fear, to recreate it. I presented my superiors with a perfect weapon! And Lethbridge-Stewart threw it back in my face! Said it was underhand! ‘My job is fighting aliens Doctor Donnelley. Not scaring people for –’”

“He was right!” snapped Kate “The terror spreading across London, how can you justify that?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Voxstell’s back online. It’s broadcasting, causing waves of panic and apparitions. I need you to shut it down.”

“Voxstell’s been dead for years! If something’s happening, Kate Stewart, it’s not by my hand.”

Kate scoffed. “I don’t believe you.”

“Believe what you like. I uploaded one test transmission – oh, what, forty years back. Just one to prove I was right. To show the potential. But Voxstell went offline before broadcast. I never knew if I’d been locked out or if the satellite had failed. And I didn’t exactly have the resources to go up and look. Eventually I gave up trying. If it’s working now, it’s nothing to do with me!”

“She’s telling the truth,” interjected Ben.

“Perhaps. But you will come with me, Doctor Donnelley. You’re going to help Osgood end this thing.”

“What if I don’t care to?”

“That is not an option,” Kate said firmly.

“You don’t frighten me. You’re no soldier. You’re soft, like your father.”

“I’m afraid I must insist.” Kate pulled her gun from its holster under her jacket and cocked it, the sound surprisingly loud in the room.

“Kate! What are you doing?”

“You – you wouldn’t use that gun. Not a defenceless old woman.”

“We’re both scientists, Doctor Donnelley, do you really want to test that hypothesis?”

Upstairs

Osgood typed furiously. “Well, how about this!” The computer buzzed and beeped. “Don’t take that tone with me!”

“Not getting anywhere?” asked Josh.

“I’ve got the uplink to Voxstell working via the original terminal, but the security protocols keep booting me out.”

“I’m going as fast as I’m able,” protested Donnelley as Kate ushered her into the room.

“Don’t play games. I am losing patience.”

“Kate, you’re not being fair.”

Martha was keeping a close eye on Alice Donnelley and while it was obvious that she did struggle to walk, it seemed equally as obvious that she wasn’t as defenceless as she was trying to persuade the rest of them to believe she was.

“Something about this code just doesn’t make sense,” complained Osgood. “It’s all wrong for the era.”

“Well, I’ve brought you the expert. Donnelley?”

The older woman looked at the screen. “Well, this isn’t my work.”

“I don’t have time for lies. Not while lives are at stake.”

“I’m not lying!” snapped Donnelley. “I recognise fragments of this at best. The rest of it though, it’s something new.”

“Ah! Why won’t it let me in?”

“Have you tried speaking to it in Latin?” suggested Josh.

“Oh Josh don’t be daft! Satellites don’t speak Latin!”

“Well, this one does,” he pointed out.

“That’s an interesting question, though. Why use the invocation for the infrasound broadcast.”

“It’s not important,” said Donnelley impatiently. “It’s basically just ‘Lorum Ipsum’.”

“Well, that makes everything clear,” snarked Josh.

“‘Lorum Ipsum’ is the name of a stock passage that designers cut and paste into documents as filler. It shows what text would look like on a page but it’s gibberish.”

“How do you know that?” asked Josh, clearly surprised.

“University newspaper. Don’t judge me,” Kate said. “Why that particular text?”

“It’s just from an old book in the house library. A Demonology. The infrasound works at a subliminal level. I needed something audible to go with it. If anyone monitored the broadcast it would throw them off the scent. Maybe give them a scare. That’s all.”

The computer beeped in a positive tone.

“That’s it! That’s it! I’ve got access. Command to shut down accepted.”

London

“They’ve gone, Colonel,” Corporal Morley reported as the sounds of terror gradually eased and faded. “The ghosts have gone. They just vanished. Melted away. Civilians are calming down. They’re going back to normal.”

Shindi sighed. “Well done, Miss Stewart.”

Ealdon House

“Good job, Osgood.”

“Hold on! I’m getting a message back from Voxstell.”

“What does it say?” asked Kate.

“‘Te audimus venimus’. Latin again.”

“‘We hear you. We are coming.’”

“Well, who is ‘we’?” asked Ben apprehensively.

“It’s a – it’s a glitch. That’s all it can be,” said Donnelley, but she sounded unconvincing.

“Something brought the satellite back online,” Osgood observed. “Vastly increased its power and range beyond what it should be capable of.”

“What if something heard the invocation Donnelley added to the signal,” Kate suggested.

“You mean aliens?” asked Josh.

Ben scoffed. “Oh, now come on! Be reasonable.”

“There’s a lot out there we don’t understand, not all of it friendly,” Kate said. “Something liked what it heard.”

“The test transmission was uploaded forty years ago!” protested Donnelley.

“Maybe it took that long for the message to reach them,” Osgood said. “And for the answer to come back.”

“Osgood, show me the text of Donnelley’s invocation.”

“Here it is, ma’am.”

“‘Spirit of the Abyss. I summon and invoke you. May your powers strengthen my hand. I offer what you want. I grant you leave to walk up this Earth until –’”

The computer began beeping.

“According to your laptop, Voxstell’s started broadcasting again,” Martha told Osgood.

“That’s not all,” Osgood said after giving it an intent look. “The signal target is shifting. It’s sweeping north from London.”

“Is it just me, or,” Ben said, swallowing audibly, “does anyone else feel strange? Sort of nervous and sick?”

“Me too,” agreed Osgood.

“I’ll admit to a touch of nausea,” Donnelley said.

“I’m feeling that visceral uneasiness that I felt before,” Martha said.

“I’m fine,” Josh said. “Still hungry.”

“Like before,” Kate mused. “When the ghost came.”

“I broke the window,” Josh protested. “I changed the room’s acoustic. It can’t be the same thing.”

“It isn’t!” Donnelley said. “It’s infrasound. Generated by the satellite.”

“Yes,” agreed Osgood. “It’s Voxstell. Signal now targeting Ealdon Hall.”

“I did it. I actually did it!” exclaimed Donnelley in a triumphant tone.

“Where’s it getting the power from?” wondered Osgood.

“Mother, please, what have you done?”

“Be quiet, Ben! The project works!”

“Osgood, send a message back,” instructed Kate. “Ask it what it wants. ‘Quid vis’.”

There was a sound of roaring in the background, then an alien voice growled, “Volumus quod promissi sumus.”

“‘We want what we were promised’,” Kate translated.

“What is that thing?” asked Ben fearfully. “What have you summoned up?”

“It – it’s nothing. It can’t be. It’s some twisted joke. Lethbridge-Stewart’s daughter’s revenge.”

“I’m not doing this, Donnelley, you know that. You might get your infrasound test subjects after all.”

“Whatever it is, I need to get out of here.” Ben turned towards the door.

Josh grabbed him. “Not so fast.”

“Let me go.”

“There’s no point running,” Osgood told Ben. “It’s not just the Gallery or the house. The broadcast cone is engulfing a five mile radius.”

“Ma’am, there’s still the helicopter,” Josh said. “I’m unaffected. I could fly you, Osgood, and Doctor Jones out.”

“But what about us?” demanded Ben. “Are you just gonna leave us here?”

“That’s not an option, Carter, we have to deal with this thing. If its attention shifts it could cause havoc across the entire country, maybe the whole planet. Osgood, options.”

“Maybe we’ve been looking at this the wrong way,” she said.

“How do you mean?” asked Kate.

“The – the ghosts in the house and in London, they were caused by infrasound, yes? But the thing controlling the satellite, that – that re-wrote the code, that increased the power, it was invoked by – Demonology.”

“You mean we’ve tried using science, now we should try magic?” asked Kate.

“That’s mad!” protested Josh.

“Doesn’t have to be,” Osgood retorted. “Magic has rules too, of a sort. Books of magic are instruction sets for other laws of physics.”

“What, so we shout ‘abracadabra’ and hope it goes away?” asked Josh sarcastically.

“Josh, it’s hard enough to concentrate as it is.”

“Sorry, ma’am.”

“Osgood, when a person invokes a demon what do they do?”

“I’ve read about this. Um, you name and conjure it, then you ask for something.”

“May your power strengthen my hand,” said Donnelley, echoing the invocation she’d used.

“You offer something in return,” continued Osgood.

“I grant you leave to walk upon this Earth until –” said Donnelley.

“And when it’s over, you must bid the demon gone.”

“Donnelley, you never finished the invocation,” said Kate.

“There was no need! I’d already hit Voxstell’s data capacity. It was just covering text, it wasn’t mean to do anything.”

“Osgood, what happens if the spirit is never sent away?”

“That’s very bad. According to myth, the demon never goes away. It’s terribly dangerous not to dismiss it.”

The growling grew louder.

“It’s here!” exclaimed Donnelley, cowering back against the wall. “Oh god! It’s come for me.”

“Where?” asked Josh, whirling around.

“It’s – it’s reaching out. I never meant for this to happen,” protested Donnelley.

“It’s not just you this time, Josh,” Kate said, “I can’t see it either. It’s only targeting Donnelley.”

“The one who summoned it,” Osgood pointed out.

“So many eyes! Mouth like a tear and inside – oh! The darkness!” Donnelley sounded terrified, then she ran across the room.

“No, don’t! No, not that way!” exclaimed Ben in alarm.

“Don’t let it have me!” Donnelley shrieked, then she screamed, before crashing through the window.

“Mother! Oh god, she fell!” Ben rushed to the window and looked out. “I think she’s dead!”

“Osgood, send a new transmission. Now!” Kate said urgently. “We have to close the invocation off.”

“Finish the loop?” asked Osgood.

“Yes! ‘I grant you leave to walk upon this Earth until –’”

She paused and Osgood asked, “Until what?”

“‘Usque ad diem mortis.’ Send it! Now!”

Osgood typed furiously. “Sending!”

“I hope I got that right,” Kate said quietly.

The sound of growling faded and everyone visibly relaxed.

The computer spoke, “This is Voxstell 3. This is Voxstell 3. Broadcasting on 1815 mega – mega – megacycles – cycles – cycles. This is Vox – Vox – Vox – Voxst – st – st – st – st – st –”

“Signal strength dropping away to nothing,” Osgood reported. “Voxstell powering down. Going offline. Whatever that thing was, it’s gone.”

“What did you say to it?” asked Martha. “‘I grant you leave to walk upon this Earth until –’”

“‘Until the day I die.’,” Kate said, her tone bleak.

“Oh,” said Osgood.

“I realised the invocation should end with Donnelley. She was the one that called it.”

“Well, wasn’t that convenient?” scoffed Ben angrily.

“Ben –” Kate began.

“Look out the window and see what you’ve done, Kate. See what you took advantage of.”

“Ben, I’m sorry. I couldn’t let it win.”

“Don’t talk to me. Not now.”

“I have a duty,” Kate said.

“Not ever, Kate. Not till the day I die.”

“Ben!”

He stormed out.

“Do you want me to fetch him back, ma’am?” asked Josh.

“No, let him go. UNIT must protect the Earth. That always comes first. Always.”

“Yes, ma’am. We see off aliens and ghosts and demons, too, it would seem. I’m going to have to update my CV.” Josh was clearly trying for levity, but Martha wasn’t sure that it quite came off.

“Ma’am, Donnelley mentioned your father,” said Osgood.

“He fought to shut her down. The whole Voxstell infrasound project. He wouldn’t stand for it. I saw his letter in the files I called up. ‘Not in UNIT’s name’, he wrote, ‘and not in my name, either.’”

“He was right,” Osgood said.

“Yes, he was right. He knew a thing or two, Dad. Strange the things that come back to haunt us.”

Later

“Are you sure you don’t want to come back with us, ma’am?” Osgood asked Kate as Josh reloaded the helicopter with her boxes of equipment.

Kate shook her head. “I need to square things up with the civilian authorities. I also need to put the wheels in motion to ensure that Ealdon House is shut down. Demolished, even, if I can persuade people.”

“Will Mr Donnelley be alright, do you think?” asked Osgood, looking at the young man, to whom Martha was talking intently in front of the house.

“I hope so, eventually. Once he’s over the shock of learning his mother was a lot more than she made herself out to be.” Kate sighed. “I’m not sure that he’ll ever forgive me. However, that’s something I’ll just have to live with, along with every other decision I’ve made for the sake of keeping the Earth safe.”

“For what it’s worth, ma’am, I think you did the right thing. In fact, I don’t see that you had any choice.”

“No, I didn’t.” Kate nodded to the helicopter, where Josh was climbing into the pilot’s seat. “Go on. I’ll see you back at the Tower once Doctor Jones and I get back tomorrow.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Kate watched as Osgood hurried over to the helicopter and clambered in, then secured herself, before Josh took off, turning the helicopter around to point south.

The next moment a police car, followed by an ambulance, its sirens silent and its lights off, came up the drive and parked in front of the house. Kate went to meet them, her heart feeling heavy with bitterness at what Donnelley had done and the end that she’d met. While she knew Alice Donnelley had brought it on herself, she also knew the older woman couldn’t have had any idea just what she was unleashing when she’d sent that invocation to Voxstell 3.

She heaved a sigh, then turned her attention to the situation at hand.

That Evening

“I’ve booked us a twin room at a hotel in Selkirk,” Martha told Kate as the latter leaned against her car, her stance weary and defeated. “It’s too late to start driving back to London tonight.”

Kate scrubbed a hand over her face. “Good thinking, Doctor Jones.”

“Martha.”

Kate huffed a weak laugh. “Kate,” she replied.

“They’ll give us a meal, too,” Martha said. “Do you want me to drive?” She expected a negative, already aware that Kate tended to be very stoic about her own health, so she was surprised when the car key was held out to her.

“Thanks,” Kate said. “I feel like I might fall asleep at any moment, so it’s probably safer for you to drive.”

“Okay.”

They climbed into the car and Martha set off, following the satnav’s directions. Less than thirty minutes later she pulled up outside a rather imposing building, but they were both too tired to take in much of the detail.

They got themselves booked in and made their way up to their room, Kate almost asleep on her feet. They’d already requested room service, settling on a spinach omelette with a side salad each and bottles of water to accompany their meal.

“Why don’t you grab a shower?” Martha suggested. “See if that will wake you up long enough to eat something before you fall asleep.”

“Good thinking,” Kate agreed, then opened her overnight bag and pulled out her toiletries bag and some pyjamas to change into. She frowned at Martha. “What are you going to do about toiletries and things?”

Martha smirked, then patted her doctor’s bag. “I have the essentials in here.”

“Really?” Kate said doubtfully, looking at it. Then her face cleared, and she chuckled. “Don’t tell me, it’s bigger on the inside.”

Martha giggled. “Yep. One of the perks of having a Time Lord for a friend. It’s not bottomless, but it does hold rather more than you might anticipate without knowing it’s of Time Lord design.”

“Useful,” Kate agreed, before moving into the ensuite bathroom.

Martha took out her own toiletries bag and pyjamas, setting them on the bed nearest the window. Then she made her way around the bed and peered out at the dark landscape. She couldn’t see much, but she got the impression that the view of the grounds would be good in daylight. She closed the curtains again, then sat on the armchair nearest to her bed and pulled out her tablet to check her work emails. She’d already contacted Doctor Harrison, who was her second in command, earlier to say that she wouldn’t be back at the Tower before tomorrow.

She was glancing over a paper written by one of her colleagues in UNIT North America when the bathroom door opened, and Kate walked out clad in warm flannel pyjamas in a red tartan.

Martha’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that the Stewart tartan?” she asked, trying vainly to suppress her amusement.

Kate raised an eyebrow in return, her expression quite unreadable, before she laughed softly. “It is.” She shook her head. “Blame my father.”

Martha laughed, too, then gathered up her own pyjamas and toiletries bag. “I hope you don’t mind that I picked the bed by the window?”

“Not at all,” Kate assured her. “I much prefer the bed by the door.

“I thought you might.” Martha headed into the bathroom feeling relieved that Kate seemed to have shed some of her melancholy as well as her weariness while she was taking a shower.

She showered briskly, not wanting to linger since she was hungry and knew that their room service meals should be arriving soon. Then she pulled on her own pyjamas – dark blue with various phases of the moon depicted on them – before making her way back into the room just as Kate opened the door to a lithe, tall, dark-haired young woman who brought in their supper. She gave Kate an appreciative look, apparently unfazed by the fact she was wearing pyjamas. Not that Martha could blame the young woman since Kate seemed to look effortlessly gorgeous regardless of what she was wearing.

“Your supper, ma’am,” the young woman said, her accent a soft burr that was pleasant to Martha’s ear.

“Thank you,” Kate said, stepping back to allow the young woman to bring their trays into the room.

She set them on the table in the corner of the room, then nodded as Kate handed her a tip. “Nice pyjamas, ma’am,” she said with a cheeky grin, before she let herself out of the room.

“You’ve got an admirer,” Martha said neutrally, uncertain whether Kate would be minded to laugh about it or scowl.

Kate scoffed. “Rubbish. She was just mocking my pyjamas.”

Martha shook her head as she crossed the room to sit at the table. “She only had eyes for you,” she said sliding one of the trays closer to herself. “I might as well have been a hatstand for all the notice she took of me.”

Kate shook her own head, already chewing on a mouthful of omelette.

Martha huffed a laugh. “You really are oblivious, aren’t you?” she asked in a tone she knew was far too fond.

“To what?”

“To the effect you have on other people. Even dressed in pyjamas you look gorgeous.”

“Did you hit your head today?” asked Kate, her tone rather scornful, but Martha could see a flush of colour on her cheeks.

“No.”

Kate scowled a little, her attention on her food, and Martha began talking about the paper she’d been looking at before she had taken a shower, then they moved on to discussing various scientific developments within UNIT, not all of them Osgood’s. She saw Kate relaxing as the conversation remained neutral and mentally laughed. It was occasionally entertaining to see how oblivious Kate Stewart was to the effect she had on other people, but sometimes it was frustrating that she was so oblivious because she’d certainly knocked Martha for six from the moment they met in the Central American jungle following Kate’s team’s encounter with a Dalek.

Kate had been rather grubby from her treks to and fro through the jungle and still feeling the effects of the knock gas that Gonzales’ people had used on her, nevertheless Martha had instantly found her devastatingly attractive. In the weeks since then she’d seen Kate frequently and the effect hadn’t worn off: quite the opposite, in fact. She was tall and slim, with blonde hair and deep brown eyes that Martha, who hadn’t previously considered herself a romantic, was tempted to describe as soulful. Kate was also athletic and energetic, incredibly capable and competent at her job, and cared passionately about her role as defender of the Earth. Each and every encounter Martha had with Kate had left her longing to know Kate better and wondering if she considered Martha as anything other than a colleague with a very unique and useful skillset.

“Can I interest you in some chocolate chip cookies for dessert?” Martha asked when they’d both finished their omelettes and side salads.

Kate quirked an eyebrow, then grinned. “Why not?” she said. “I’d say we deserve it today.”

“We definitely do,” Martha agreed. She crossed the room to where she’d left her bag in the armchair by her bed, then turned to discover that Kate had moved to sprawl on her bed, legs stretched out (which only emphasised how ridiculously long they were) in front of her. “Milk, white, and dark chocolate ones or just the regular milk chocolate ones?” Martha held up the two packets.

“Let’s be really decadent,” Kate said, her grin morphing into an outright smirk.

Martha laughed softly, dropped the packet of regular milk chocolate chip cookies into her bag, then stretched out on her own bed. Opening the packet, she offered it to Kate, who accepted it and slid long, slim fingers inside to retrieve a cookie.

Martha tried to suppress a sigh at the sight, but she clearly failed because Kate looked up, an expression of considerable concern on her face.

“Are you okay?” she asked gently.

Martha nodded, then accepted the packet of cookies back and pulled out one of her own.

“Tell me to mind my own business if you like,” Kate began, “but you have seemed a bit distracted.”

Martha blew out a breath. “I have been,” she agreed.

“Anything I can do to help?”

Martha couldn’t help it; she chuckled.

“What’s funny?” Kate asked with a frown.

“It’s nothing. There’s nothing funny, although it is ironic.”

Kate’s frown deepened and Martha sighed. “I’m probably going to regret this, especially since, technically, you’re my boss, but I fancy you. So it’s ironic that you’re asking if you can help.”

Kate sat up straight. “You do?”

Martha was a little startled to realise that she could see what looked like hopefulness in Kate’s expression, besides the surprise she’d anticipated being there. “Yes.”

“Oh, thank god.”

Martha raised her eyebrows. “‘Thank god’?” she repeated.

“I’ve fancied you for ages,” Kate admitted, sounding shy to Martha’s ears. “Since before we met.”

She blushed and Martha couldn’t help grinning a little at the sight. She slipped off her bed and sat down on Kate’s, then reached for one of her hands and clasped it. “For how long, exactly?” Martha asked.

“Um, since I became UNIT’s Chief Scientific Officer and learned about the Year That Never Was.” Kate lifted their clasped hands and pressed a kiss to Martha’s knuckles. “Thank you for what you did that year. I read the debriefing paperwork and I realised that you are an extraordinary young woman. Whenever everything’s starts to feel a bit too much, I remind myself of your courage and strength in walking the entire world for a year, enduring hardship, and struggling to stay safe and yet still get the word out in order to enable the Doctor’s plan to work, and I remind myself that whatever I’m struggling with is an absolute doddle in comparison. I – Unf!”

Martha cut Kate off before she could embarrass her anything further by leaning in and kissing her. Kate immediately let go of her hand in order to wrap her arm around Martha and pull her closer, deepening the kiss.

Eventually they pulled apart, the need for air having become urgent. “Sorry for jumping you like that,” Martha said, a bit embarrassed. “I should’ve asked if it was okay to kiss you.”

Kate laughed softly. “I have absolutely zero objections that you didn’t,” she said, then drew Martha back in to kiss her again.

Epilogue

“So,” Josh Carter said in what could only be described as a suggestive tone. “How was dinner last night?”

Martha looked up the paper she was writing to find him leaning against her door frame with a definite leer on his face. She frowned at him.

“Is there something I can do for you, Captain?” she asked in as pointed a tone as she could manage. Josh was far too fond of gossip as far as she was concerned and she always did her best to shut him down, just as she knew Kate did.

“You could tell me how your dinner with Kate went,” he said, grinning cheekily. “She’s being very tight lipped about it.”

“I cannot imagine why,” Martha said dryly.

Josh huffed. “Fine. Be like that. But if the matching grins you two are sporting are anything to go by, it was a very good dinner indeed.”

Before Martha could respond a voice in the corridor outside barked out, “Captain Carter, don’t you have things to be getting on with? If not, I’m sure I can find you something.”

Josh straightened up immediately, a light blush suffusing his cheeks. “On my way now, ma’am.”

He hurried off and a moment later Kate appeared in Martha’s doorway. “Was he bothering you?” she asked, coming inside, and closing the door behind her before crossing to sit on the chair in front of Martha’s desk.

Martha huffed a laugh. “Not really. It was just a fishing expedition.”

Kate scowled. “I’ll have a word with Shindi, see if he can’t find something for Carter to do that will keep him busy.”

“The filthiest job possible?” Martha asked lightly.

Kate’s scowl melted into a goofy looking grin. “Definitely.”

“So, was there something you needed me for?”

Kate’s grin morphed into a smirk. “Not really. I’m on my way to Osgood’s lab.”

Martha couldn’t help grinning since the Infirmary was nowhere near Osgood’s lab and Kate had no need to be reminded of that fact, given she’d worked at the Tower far longer than Martha.

“Yes, okay,” Kate said sheepishly. “I wanted to see you.”

Martha just laughed, charmed, as always, by how unabashedly romantic Kate was. “And now you’ve seen me,” she said. “So perhaps you’d better get going if you’re meant to be in Osgood’s lab.”

“I suppose so.”

She sounded absurdly dejected at the prospect, so Martha got to her feet, rounded her desk, then sat down, very deliberately, in Kate’s lap, then leaned in and kissed her soundly. Kate’s arms immediately wrapped around Martha’s body, holding her close.

When they came up for air, Martha grinned, pressed a quick kiss to Kate’s brow, then climbed off her lap and returned to her own chair.

“Get on with you,” she said fondly. “I’ve got work to do and so have you.”

Kate jumped up, then snapped off a salute, making Martha laugh. “Ma’am, yes, ma’am.”

Martha grabbed a screwed up ball of paper off the desk and tossed it at Kate, who caught it, then laughed.

“I’m going,” Kate promised.

“Go on, then. I’ve got this paper to finish writing if I’m going to present it in Geneva next month.”

“Okay. I’ll see you later.

“Yes, you will.”