They were frozen like statues in leaping postures. They became larger, larger still, and then the first of them fell straight out into the wood.

August got to his feet instantly, letting go of his nose, and caught Aphasia as she fell from the vortex gate. He left her to recover, and slapped the shoulders of Greeneye and Hoff as they stumbled out, carrying their large packs. ‘Quickly, assemble the frame.’

The two of them started, with smooth, practised speed, to pull a metal structure from the backpacks. By the time Serif jumped from the vortex, hissing, they’d completed the job. They slammed the final connections together, and a thin metal ring encompassed the fluttering lightshow. Hoff’s stubby fingers punched a series of buttons on the base of the ring. The vortex disc flexed, and a single clear note rang out across the woodland. The travellers held their breath. Then the disc stabilized, and a series reassuring lights illuminated on the control deck.

‘Vortex tunnel stable,’ Hoff declared.

‘Thank my ancestors,’ August breathed. ‘Now then, Greeneye⁠ —’

‘I’m just doing it, Father.’ Greeneye turned a slow circle, sweeping a handheld device across the ground. His circle complete, he flicked a control.

A shimmering curtain of light rose from the circle around the group, arched itself into a dome above them, and, as soon as it had become complete, shimmered and blurred into an exact recreation of the woodlands around. Birds flew across the holographic dome, and the branches portrayed on its surface bent and rustled in he wind.

From the inside, the dome was transparent. August and the others sat down in a circle, paused, and then let out a deep sigh.

‘This place smells,’ Aphasia declared.

‘Indeed!’ Greeneye laughed. ‘Most places do. But I, for one, am just grateful to be on solid ground, and move my limbs again. We might not have been aware of the passage of time in the vortex, but my bones ache with it. Where are we, anyhow?’

‘Planet called Sol 3, in the Stellarian Galaxy.’ Hoff was checking the readings on his wrist scanner. ‘Many, many library entries for it.’

‘Near Gallifrey, then,’ breathed Greeneye.

‘It is not “near Gallifrey"!’ August laughed. ‘We’re in an arm of Mutter’s Spiral, Gallifrey’s right at the core. If being in the same galaxy is near, then the Sontarans are near the Rutans, for goodness’ sake!’

‘No harm in being wary,’ Greeneye replied, a dangerous glint in his eye. ‘You know that those bastards specialize in the stab in the back.’

‘You’re right, son, you’re right. We ought to change anyway. Hoff, activate that media scanner you got on Tauntala, give us a feel for the local culture.’