“Four days after his own funeral, Albert Wilkes came home for Tea.”

“The Doctor snorted. 'Wimp!' He squared his shoulders and turned towards the fire, grinning. 'Race you.' And he was off, running. Jack hesitated, sighed, swore, and ran after him. Levin and Krylek, Catherine and the villagers stared after them in astonishment. Two dark figures running though fire...”

“Strax slammed his fist into the open palm of his other hand. ‘At last,’ he pronounced. ‘We strike for the greater glory of the Sontaran Empire. Sontar-Ha!’ His brow furrowed slightly as he saw the others’ expressions. ‘That is. For the greater glory of Paternoster Row, of course. Pater-Nos-Ta!”

“Explain,’ the troll hissed.‘Explain what? I was just…’ Harry pointed back the way he’d come. ‘Let me go, please, sir. I won’t breathe a word about what I seen. Not about you nor the dead body.’‘Explain the dead body,’ the troll said, shaking Harry so violently that his teeth rattled. ‘It’s a body,’ he said when he could finally draw breath. ‘And it’s dead. A woman, in a coat, bleeding.’‘What colour fur?’ the troll demanded.‘It’s not fur, it’s probably wool.’The creature’s eyes narrowed even further. ‘Not the coat,’ it rasped. ‘On its head – what colour was the fur on the female’s head?’Harry frowned, struggling to understand. ‘You mean her hair?’‘Hair, fur, protective cranial grafting – whatever term you use on this primitive planet. What colour was it?’‘Sort of… brownish.’‘Brownish.’‘And quite long. I think.’ Despite the tight grip that the troll maintained on his shoulders, Harry managed to get one hand up high enough to show how long the dead woman’s hair had been. ‘About this long.’The grip on his shoulders loosened and Harry felt himself sag. Then he stumbled forwards under a near-crippling slap on his back.‘Good lad,’ the troll said. ‘Your observational skills are adequate. You would make a good forward sniper.’‘Oh, um, thank you, sir.’ Harry swallowed. ‘Can I go now?”

“Strax gave a snort of amusement. ‘It is surely a very simple choice. One option is for a quiet life with honest work amongst other humans paying a living wage and with prospects of promotion within a distinguished household. The other... ‘ He drew himself up to his full height and looked up at them, ‘is the prospect of constant danger, fear and risk. No chance of ever seeing your friends again, or making new ones. The knowledge that death waits around the next corner and you are unlikely to see the end of the next week without at the very least a serious injury. A glorious alternative.”

“Hey, tell me, when did this conversation go completely whoosh?”

“Whatever humanity inflicts on itself, nature can always go one better.”