By Wesley J. Frank
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He swallowed the beer, feeling it slosh down into his stomach. He plonked the pot back on the table, smacked his lips and grinned at Anji. ’ ‘Nope. ’ He shrugged. ’ Anji smiled wickedly. ’ Fitz hunched over the table. ‘From the attention it’s been getting, infinity. ’ Anji had a little metal tumbler of pale golden liquid. ’ She picked up a slice of bread which looked like a hunk of wood. ’ and took a sip. Then he grimaced and put it back down on the trestle table in front of Anji. ‘Never mix the grape and the grain,’ he said hoarsely.
When she was sure they had gone Aboetta turned and ran down the hill towards the graveyard. Anji stuck close to Fitz as they walked up the hill towards the church. It was now full evening, the sky was a deep blue, and it had grown quite chilly. ‘So. ’ ‘Either that, or Aboetta’s mad,’ said Anji. ‘If she isn’t, and this is Year 160, that means history changed in 1843,’ said Fitz. ’ They reached the top of the hill, where a red-brick church stood, commanding a view over the whole settlement. As they drew level with it, a bell rang out.
The voice of a man who knew what he was about. ’ She never liked talking about her feelings to anyone, but with a shock she realised that something about the way this Doctor spoke, the look in his eyes, made her trust his words. ’ The Doctor kept his eyes fixed on hers, watching her carefully. ‘Yes,’ said Aboetta again. ‘I don’t understand it. It’s impossible, surely? ’ ‘There could be a number of explanations. You could as you say have been asleep or in some form of suspended animation – but no, you’d know about that.