Chapter Three

A bulky spacesuit hopped down the ladder. He wasn't as nimble as he would have been on the Moon, the gravity was about twice as strong, but he moved in wide, arcing leaps.

There wasn't a carefully-prepared sound-bite, or indeed any ceremony. Just a simple 'I'm on the surface, chaps'. Two other astronauts followed him out, and they spent some time bouncing around, getting used to the idea that they were on an alien planet. 'Keep that camera pointing that way, Bob. There's a beautiful violet sky,' Michaels said finally.

Whatever else was said was drowned out by the cheers from Mission Control and the party guests in the observation gallery. The cameramen were relaxing now, turning off their equipment. They'd got the interviews they'd wanted before the landing and while the astronauts were getting ready for their Marswalk. The guests were leaving their seats, stretching. They were being ushered out by the waiters, who really weren't tolerating any dawdlers. Benny looked around for Eve, who was by the door, trying to collar Lord Greyhaven for an interview.

'Is that it?' the Doctor said, still firmly in his seat.

'That's the end of the live coverage, yes, sir,' a waiter told him as he collected up the empty glasses. 'The museum restaurant, The Observatory, is still open - a lot of the guests will be eating lunch there. It's fully licensed.'

Bernice giggled. 'How about it, Doctor, fancy a trip to the Mars Bar? I think that they want us to leave.' The last few journalists and their teams were being ushered away, a curtain was being drawn over the observation window overlooking Mission Control.

'Something odd's going on ... ' the Doctor muttered.

Winifred Bambera was standing by the door, keeping an eye on the guests as they filed out.

'Isn't that - ?' the Doctor began, but he was cut off from a burst of static from the loudspeaker. Down in Mission Control, a couple of technicians scuttled back to their posts.