“Giles said something about serving an emperor,” I said.

“Then I suppose these must be the Rebel forces,” said Molly, smiling slightly for the first time.

“Didn’t know you were a Star Wars fan,” I said, glad of a chance to change the subject.

“Just the original trilogy.”

“I never really understood about the rebel forces in those films,” I said. “I mean, they had rebel bases on rebel worlds, and starships and armies and weapons . . . but who was paying for it all? Where was the funding coming from? They couldn’t have had volunteers standing around on street corners, rattling collection tins and saying, Please support the rebellion. Darth Vader would have had them all shot.”

And then we both looked around sharply as the sound of approaching engines caught our ears. We looked out over the snowy waste to where the horizon disappeared in the mists, and there was Giles Deathstalker, plunging through the snow towards us at a terrific pace. Faster than I could have managed, even with my armour’s help. And above and behind him came a dozen airships, strange, elegant craft bristling with unfamiliar weapons, all of them aimed down at the running fugitive. But though crackling energy beams stabbed down from the airships again and again, somehow they never even came close to hitting the frantically dodging figure below. Giles Deathstalker was always somewhere else.

The airships swept past him, streaking through the soft pink sky, and pulled around in a wide arc that would bring them back again for another strafing run. Giles hadn’t seen me, or the Time Train, yet. He had his head down, just concentrating on running and evading his enemies. Out of the mists behind him came a small army of jade green armoured figures, trudging determinedly through the heavy snow, firing vivid energy beams after the man fleeing before them. They had no better luck than the airships, but craters were appearing all around Giles now, filling the air with a mist of vaporised snow.

I yelled at Giles, using the silver mask to amplify my voice. His head snapped around and he changed direction to head straight for me and the Time Train, ploughing through the deep snow like it wasn’t even there. His movements were almost inhumanly fast. But even with his speed and determination, it was clear that at least some of his pursuers would cut him off before he could reach us. And the airships were returning.

“Get back to Ivor,” I said to Molly. “Protect the Time Train, whatever happens. It’s our only way home.”

“Damn right,” said Molly. “This is a lousy place to visit, and I wouldn’t want to live here.”