‘Greetings … Legate, is it?’ The Doctor beamed and waved her white flag. ‘Nice to meet you, I’m the Doctor.’

The equine creature in the golden armour moved back and was lost from her sight. The rest of the wall quivered and shook and finally collapsed. The Legate stood in the doorway; behind her, two more Astingir were rearing up as if ready to trample anyone in their path.

The creatures looked like centaurs, only horsier: each possessed the four legs and body of a stallion, with an armoured humanoid torso rising where the neck should have been. The arms and hands were like those of a weightlifter, and that horse-like head sat between the shoulders. Each of the Astingir held an ornate metal spear in both hands; like the creatures themselves, beautiful but deadly.

‘So!’ the Doctor said cheerily. ‘Basically, I’d like to surrender, while maintaining the charges against me and my pal are wrong. See, you don’t fully understand the situation – not your fault; I don’t even understand it myself, and if I don’t understand it yet, well, who can? I’m on the case and I promise to share the moment I know what’s going on. We can sit down – well, stand about – and chew the hay, sort things out … Deal?’

The Legate, still gripping her spear in her hands, raised a gold-shod hoof as if in greeting, or salute. The Doctor’s hopes rose and she grinned and waved. But then she heard the hum of electronics, the flash of lights transmitting data in the intricate armour over the Legate’s haunches. The spear lit a sudden blood-red.

‘Scan confirms intruder’s identity,’ the Legate said brusquely. ‘Centaurions: kill it.’

‘Bye, then!’ The Doctor turned and ran. The Astingir roared as they reared up and clattered after her in pursuit.

And in the heart of the Functional Abyss, flickers of energy began to dance.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

In the penthouse apartment downstairs the door to Ace’s office swung open and Sanaul peered into the darkness. ‘Miss Dorothy?’

Getting no reply, he was about to turn on the lights when a dark shape caught his attention. Sorin was sitting on the other side of the room staring at the air-conditioning grille in the wall, his tail flicking to and fro.

‘Sorin?’

The cat ignored him, not even an ear twitching in his direction. Sanaul frowned. Sorin usually came running whenever he appeared, demanding food and attention. For him to be ignored so completely was unusual to say the least. Sanaul crossed to where the cat was sitting, crouching down to see what had captured the cat’s attention.

‘What have you found there?’