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        It had started with a mistake – The Doctor’s mistake. He had 
        turned a dial on the TARDIS console further than he should and changed 
        the destination by a hundred thousand light years.  
      
        Then he mistook the surface of the planet by five fathoms and the TARDIS 
        materialised on the bed of an ocean.  
      
        “Oh dear me,” The Doctor opined. 
      
        “But it’s marvellous,” Zoë told him as she stood 
        with Jamie at the open door with a force field holding back the water. 
        They watched the fish swimming past them and appreciated how unique this 
        perspective was. They were mostly the same as the fish on Earth except 
        for their colours. There were bright reds and yellows as well as the browns 
        and silvery grey that they expected, and they came in sizes from tiny, 
        almost translucent shoals that flashed through the water to as big as 
        a dolphin. Jamie was more interested in the middle sized fish, the sort 
        that most closely resembled the trout and salmon that his people supplemented 
        their diet with from the open lochs of the Scottish Highlands.  
      
        “There’s no shortage of food here,” he said. “Any 
        people would be able to live well enough.” 
      
        “Are there any people on this planet?” Zoë asked The 
        Doctor. “I mean, people, people, of course.” 
      
        The Doctor knew what she meant. Even though she worked on the Space Wheel, 
        she had only ever come into contact with non-humans when they were threatening 
        her – the Cybermen, the Ice Warriors, The Krotons. When she thought 
        of ‘people’ she thought of those that looked like her – 
        the Dulkis or the Gond. It wasn’t quite correct. ‘People’ 
        could look different to humans, but Zoë wasn’t ready to accept 
        that, yet. 
      
        Jamie was surprisingly more open-minded about it, considering that the 
        most alien thing in his life before he joined the TARDIS crew had been 
        English soldiers.  
      
        It was he who first spotted the ‘people’ who swam curiously 
        towards the TARDIS, attracted, perhaps, by the warm light from the doorway. 
        They were short, the males about Zoë’s height and the females 
        coming up to her shoulder. They were all naked, so it was easy to tell 
        which was which. They had webbed hands and feet and gills from which bubbles 
        of air streamed as they swam close, their big eyes wide in astonishment 
        and interest. 
      
        The first two, a male and female, passed through the forcefield and stood 
        upright on the TARDIS floor as Jamie and Zoë stepped back to allow 
        them entrance. They put down the spears with which they had protected 
        themselves from the more predatory fish and dropped the still dripping 
        nets full of crustaceans that they had gathered from the sea bed.  
      
        They were a pale blue colour and completely hairless in addition to their 
        other attributes. They looked at Zoë with curiosity and reached towards 
        her. She backed away nervously, but The Doctor calmly told her not to 
        worry. The fact that they had put down their weapons proved that these 
        people were making friendly contact. 
      
        “It’s her hair,” Jamie said. “They want to touch 
        it.” 
      
        “They’ve never seen anything like it before,” The Doctor 
        observed. Zoë laughed as the natives ran their hands through her 
        shoulder length soft hair. It tickled a little. They laughed, too and 
        the bond of friendship seemed to have been made. 
      
        “I’m Zoë,” she said to them. “This is The 
        Doctor and Jamie.” 
      
        “Ido,” said the man. “This is Alo, my wife.” 
      
        The words he used were in his own language, but that had never mattered 
        as long as she had travelled in the TARDIS. Zoë always understood 
        the languages spoken by natives of different planets. She always meant 
        to ask The Doctor about it, but they were usually too busy running from 
        unspeakable horrors to worry about it. 
      
        “Do you live in the sea?” Zoë asked them.  
      
        “No, we live on it,” Ido answered. “Do you live in this 
        box under water?”  
      
        “Not usually,” Jamie said. “The Doctor got his calculations 
        wrong.” 
      
        “Come up,” Ido suggested. “Be our guests.” 
      
        “We should be honoured,” The Doctor told the natives on behalf 
        of himself and his companions. Ido and Alo picked up their spears and 
        nets and stepped back into the water where they were clearly as much at 
        home as in air and swam up towards the surface. The Doctor set the TARDIS 
        to find sea level and it, too, began to ascend. 
      
        The TARDIS emerged into a bright, sunny afternoon in the middle of a wide, 
        blue ocean. There was no land to be seen in any direction but there was 
        a small community of shelters built upon great rafts. Shelters and rafts 
        alike were made of thickly woven layers of tough reeds seasoned with some 
        kind of resin. People just like Ido and Alo sat on mats woven from the 
        same reeds and cushions of a rough thread that might be the reeds spun 
        thinly in some way.  
      
        Ido invited The Doctor and his companions to join his family on their 
        raft. They stepped gingerly from the doorway of the TARDIS to the reed 
        surface. They noticed that their hosts had put on loose shifts made of 
        an even finer version of the cushion fabric.  
      
        “Please, sit,” he said. A boy came from the shelter with cushions 
        for their guests and Alo brought large shells filled with a pale green 
        liquid that tasted cool and fruity. The Doctor again thanked their hosts 
        for their hospitality.  
      
        “This is our son, Dal,” Alo said about the boy who knelt beside 
        Zoë and touched her hair enthusiastically. She took a comb from her 
        pocket and showed him how it worked, and he sat contentedly combing her 
        hair.  
      
        “Do you live on a raft all the time?” Jamie asked. “Where 
        is the land?” 
      
        “Land?” Ido and Alo looked at each other and turned over the 
        word.  
      
        “You mean islands of rock above the water?” Ido asked.  
      
        “Yes, I suppose I do,” Jamie considered.  
      
        “I have heard tales, myths, stories,” Ido said. “Of 
        dry places with plants growing upon them. But I have never seen such a 
        thing with my own eyes. I was born on the water. I expect to die upon 
        it.”  
      
        “But that’s not possible,” Zoë said. “How 
        can you possibly live your whole lives on the sea?” 
      
        “Why not?” Alo asked her. “We have all we need. There 
        is food in the sea – all kinds. There are reeds to make our clothes 
        and shelter and the raft beneath us. What other way should we want to 
        live?” 
      
        “There are many ways to live,” Zoë told them gently. 
        “I live and work in space – beyond the sky – in a huge 
        wheel.” 
      
        The word ‘wheel’ was unknown to them, too, though they did 
        seem to understand about space, about stars and planets beyond their own 
        world and accepted that she came from there.  
      
        “My land – Scotland….” Jamie added. “We 
        have moors that stretch as far as your horizon, wild grass, heather, where 
        a man can walk for days – at least he could before the Sasanachs 
        came and told him not to.” 
      
        “Walking for days on dry ground….” The concept was entirely 
        alien to the raft people. Jamie tried in vain to describe Scottish heather 
        and gorse and the pleasure of walking upon it. The closest Ido and Alo 
        had to it was swimming along the sea bed hunting for the crustaceans that 
        Alo was now preparing on a grill made of stones and dried reeds carefully 
        built so as not to burn through the raft. She also appeared to be preparing 
        a salad of green leaves and something that looked like tomatoes. Zoë 
        asked where they came from. 
      
        “They grow on the sea bed,” Alo told her. “These are 
        gumsa leaves, and sliced ripe canice fruits. They are very nutritious 
        and can be used as a sweet or savoury dish.” 
      
        Sweet or savoury weren’t the tastes that were worrying Zoë. 
        She was wondering if vegetables from the sea would taste too salty. When 
        the evening meal was brought to the low rush-woven table where the family 
        and guests gathered, though, she was pleasantly surprised. The canice 
        had a cool, slightly sweet taste a little like tomatoes and weren’t 
        salty at all. Neither were the crisp gumsa leaves. They were served with 
        strips of flame grilled white fish that had a lemony flavour.  
      
        That was the starter followed by those baked crustaceans which were cracked 
        open and eaten with the fingers. Finally there was a sweet pudding like 
        a blancmange but far more colourful and flavoursome. There were jugs of 
        partially fermented juice which was extracted, the visitors learnt, from 
        the same reeds that yielded fibres for raft building and cloth weaving. 
        Fresh shoots from the reed beds also made a delicious staple food. 
      
        “Everything they need comes from the sea,” Zoë said. 
        “How wonderful.” 
      
        “There are feathers in this cushion,” Jamie pointed out. “They 
        don’t come from the sea.”  
      
        “We catch birds in the air using nets,” Ido explained. “The 
        feathers are used as well as the meat.” 
      
        “Where do the birds come from if there isn’t any land?” 
        Jamie asked. “Where are their nests?” 
      
        But Ido and Alo couldn’t understand the question. As far as they 
        knew, birds flew in the sky. They didn’t have nests.  
      
        “It can’t be right,” both Zoë and Jamie insisted. 
        The Doctor said nothing. Perhaps he knew ways for birds to lay eggs in 
        the air. He sat at the front of the raft – as far as a back or front 
        could be determined, and held up his hand to measure the breeze and dipped 
        it into the water to test the salinity and the strength of the current. 
         
      
        “Do you simply let the currents drive you?” he asked Ido after 
        a while. “Or do you use oars or sails to change direction?” 
      
        “Mostly we let the currents take us along,” Ido answered. 
        “But once a year it is different. When the wind blows cold and ice 
        covers the waters, we go south following the red path of the moon to the 
        warm horizon.” 
      
        “I see,” The Doctor said. He looked towards the southern horizon. 
        Hanging in the blue sky was a large pale red moon – a twin planet 
        in dual orbit, of course. At night when its reflected light was not competing 
        with the sun itself, it would cast a long red highlight across the ocean 
        – the red path. Ido seemed to be saying that the path coincided, 
        at a crucial time of year, with a strong current that brought the rafts 
        to a warmer part of their planet. 
      
        It struck him as a magnificent arrangement of nature and navigation.  
      
        “We shall turn the rafts into the path of the red moon in nine days,” 
        Ido added. “At that time the current is strongest.” 
      
        “I should like to stay to see it,” Zoë said. “Doctor, 
        do you think we could? We have nowhere special to go and this is a beautiful 
        place to stay for a little while.” 
      
        “Aye, it would do me nicely for a while,” Jamie added. “I 
        could do a bit of fishing. Makes a change from Cybermen.” 
      
        “I think a little holiday here would be very pleasant,” The 
        Doctor concurred. Zoë smiled warmly at him. Jamie grinned. The Doctor 
        had called it a holiday, and neither of them could think of a better place 
        for one than here. 
      
        And it really was a delightful time. Zoë, born into a highly technological 
        world with her gift for complicated maths and computer languages, found 
        it utterly different and refreshing living among people who needed none 
        of such things.  
      
        She took a keen interest in all of the daily work, fishing and gathering 
        food from the sea bed, cooking, weaving mats and cloth, maintaining the 
        shelter, and, most importantly, the raft itself.  
      
        nShe noticed that there were few strictly male or female jobs. Ido would 
        sometimes cook, Alo would do the maintenance work. Both of them went fishing. 
      
        Jamie was in his element. This wasn’t the crofter country he knew, 
        but it was a kind of subsistence life he was accustomed to. People who 
        worked to eat and provide shelter for their families were his sort of 
        people. He joined enthusiastically with the fishing. He had to wear scuba 
        tanks and a wetsuit to join in fully with the underwater hunts, of course. 
        Ido couldn’t help laughing at the sight of him dressed that way, 
        but when Jamie speared enough fish for the evening meal he praised him 
        fulsomely and accepted him as one of their hunters and gatherers. 
      
        The Doctor spent much of his time making calculations of the width and 
        speed of the currents the raft travelled along. He studied the stars at 
        night and the position of that red planetary moon in the sky.  
      
        As they travelled, they were joined by other rafts. The first two were 
        owned by Ido’s brother and Alo’s cousin who came with their 
        families to join the migration to the great red current. Later others 
        joined them, friends that they saw at this time of year. There was news 
        to catch up on, marriages and births to celebrate, deaths to mourn, betrothals 
        to be made now that the whole loose community was gathered together. 
      
        And then they turned the rafts towards the southern horizon. It was very 
        much a joint effort, with the rafts close together, the outer ones rowed 
        by all of the strongest men and the fittest, youngest men and women. The 
        Doctor and Jamie took their turns at the work. Zoë tried, too, but 
        she found it difficult and made herself useful, instead, bringing a big 
        jug of fruit juice around the rowers so that they could refresh themselves 
        whenever they wanted.  
      
        Two days and nights of intense rowing brought them finally into the red 
        path – the long reflection of the moon that stretched all the way 
        to the horizon. The rowers could stop almost immediately. The current 
        was so strong that everyone felt the difference.  
      
        “It’s amazing,” Zoë commented. “You would 
        think the rafts had motor power. We’re going at a cracking pace.” 
      
        “Indeed,” The Doctor said. “At least seven knots, I 
        should say. It’s a very impressive speed. Faster than the Gulf Stream 
        in your Atlantic Ocean on Earth.” 
      
        “It must be created by the same forces,” Zoë posited. 
        “A warm stream of water moving faster than the colder water around 
        it.” 
      
        “Yes,” The Doctor agreed.  
      
        The raft dwellers themselves didn’t have any scientific theories. 
        They just accepted that the current was there. Jamie wasn’t really 
        interested in the discussion of warm and cold water densities that The 
        Doctor and Zoë launched into. He was happy to lie down on the edge 
        of one of the outer rafts and trail his hand in the fast flowing water. 
        He wasn’t the only one relaxing. All those who had worked hard rowing 
        were now enjoying the chance to rest.  
      
        “It looks so beautiful, doesn’t it,” Zoë said, 
        when the scientific discussion had run its course. “It almost seems 
        as if the water is running towards the moon. But, of course, that’s 
        impossible. There are thousands of miles between the two bodies.” 
      
        “It is a charming visual effect,” The Doctor agreed. He, too, 
        seemed content to enjoy the end result of all the labour. Zoë wondered 
        how much longer the ‘holiday’ would last, though. The object 
        had been to see the migration to the ‘red path’. Now they 
        were here, she supposed they would leave, soon.  
      
        She felt a little sad about that. Even though this was so very different 
        from the technological life she knew, she had grown to love it so much. 
        She would miss the friendly raft people and their beautiful world. 
      
        But The Doctor didn’t seem in any hurry to leave. They spent another 
        two glorious days travelling by the red current towards the endless horizon. 
         
      
        Then one night after they had settled down to sleep aboard Ido’s 
        raft, Zoë was shaken awake by Jamie. The Doctor had told him to rouse 
        her. 
      
        “There’s something wrong,” he said. “The Doctor 
        said there’s danger ahead.” 
      
        “Danger? Here?” Zoë sat up at once. “But surely 
        there’s nothing dangerous on this world. It’s a beautiful, 
        peaceful place.” 
      
        But there was certainly something wrong. All around her were sound of 
        consternation. The raft people were staring at the horizon and murmuring 
        loudly. Some of them were grasping oars and trying to turn away from the 
        current. 
      
        “We’re going too fast?” 
      
        “We’re going far too fast,” The Doctor confirmed. “At 
        least forty-five knots.” 
      
        None of the raft people knew anything about knots. They just knew that 
        they were travelling too fast. Zoë listened to their panicked voices. 
        They were convinced that they were being pulled over the edge of their 
        world. 
      
        “But that won’t happen,” she assured them. “Your 
        world is round like any other. The current will surely slow down eventually 
        and you’ll be safe.” 
      
        “No, they won’t,” Jamie contradicted her. “They’re 
        going to die. Look at it.” 
      
        Zoë looked towards the horizon and remembered what she had said a 
        few days before about it looking as if the ocean was running towards the 
        red moon. 
      
        It wasn’t just a poetic idea now. The water really WAS being drawn 
        up from the ocean and dragged towards the other planet. Something was 
        doing it – something deliberate and mechanical, not a natural phenomenon. 
      
        “Doctor, what is it?” Zoë asked.  
      
        “I don’t know, but I intend to find out,” he answered. 
        “Come along, my dear girl. Jamie, into the TARDIS.” 
      
        “You’re leaving us?” Ido looked concerned. “You 
        would desert us in our time of despair?” 
      
        “No, oh no, my dear fellow,” The Doctor assured him. “We’re 
        not deserting you. Not at all. Oh dear me, no. We’re going to try 
        to find out what and who is responsible for this and to put a stop to 
        it. Do what you can to move the rafts out of danger, meanwhile, and we 
        will be back, I promise.” 
      
        He grasped Ido’s hands in his and held them for a long time before 
        doing the same for Alo. That, and his words, reassured them both, and 
        the same reassurance was passed on to the other raft people. The Doctor 
        and his friends were going to rescue them from this danger that had come 
        upon them. 
      
        “Close the door, Jamie,” he said as he came aboard the TARDIS. 
        Jamie did so. The Doctor moved around the console, carefully checking 
        instruments.  
      
        Zoë wondered for a moment if he WOULD be able to make good on that 
        promise. The TARDIS was so very temperamental they might dematerialise 
        and re-materialise a million light years away, never to return again. 
        What a dreadful outcome that would be. Not only would they fail to help 
        the raft people, but they would die feeling betrayed by The Doctor. That 
        was the most terrible thing after he had promised to help them. 
      
        “There we are,” he said, much to her relief. “That’s 
        the source of the trouble. A nasty sort of gravitation disrupter in the 
        middle of the central desert. I’ll soon sort that out.” 
      
        “You can?” Zoë asked, perhaps sounding a bit TOO surprised. 
        The Doctor looked quite aggrieved at her scepticism. “I mean, of 
        course you can. But will it really be as easy as that?” 
      
        “Oh, indeed,” he assured her. “Gravity is the most natural 
        force in the universe, you see. It’s why trees grow upwards and 
        tides go in and out. It’s why planets go around suns and moons around 
        planets and up is up and down is down. Anything that interferes with gravity 
        is so completely UNnatural that putting a spanner in the works is a cinch.” 
      
        “Aye,” Jamie pointed out. “As long as they let you near 
        the works with your spanner. There’ll be guards, surely?” 
      
        “That’s the chance we’ll have to take,” The Doctor 
        conceded. He reached for the materialisation switch and the TARDIS made 
        its familiar noise as it landed inside the gravitational disrupter. 
      
        After the simple, non-technological life of the raft people, seeing the 
        huge mechanism enclosed in a great glass dome was rather breathtaking, 
        but admiration of the workmanship was spoiled by the knowledge of what 
        it was doing. 
      
        And the noise. The machine itself was near silent, but outside the dome 
        water was crashing down, drawn through space by the powerful disrupter 
        and pouring into the desert that was no longer entirely desert. A small 
        lake was forming and part of the dome was underwater already. 
      
        “That explains WHY it’s happening,” The Doctor shouted 
        above the noise of the pouring water. “Somebody is terraforming 
        this planet using the resources of the other. But even so, it cannot be 
        allowed. I must put a stop to it.” 
      
        With that, he began studying the complicated computer at the heart of 
        the mechanism, murmuring to himself as he worked.  
      
        “Zoë, Jamie, come along and help here. I do not have the arms 
        of a gorilla, and I need to turn three dials at once. Take those at either 
        end, and when I tell you, turn smartly three quarters, you turn clockwise, 
        Zoë, and you anti-clockwise, Jamie.” 
      
        Jamie looked at his hands and turned imaginary dials in order to remember 
        which was anti-clockwise, then positioned himself at the array. Zoë 
        had to pause for a moment, too. She had been educated using digital clocks 
        and had only really got used to analogue dials since joining The Doctor, 
        but she knew what to do all the same. Both companions waited for the signal 
        before turning their dials. The Doctor turned the middle one before operating 
        two levers at once.  
      
        At first there seemed no result of their action. But then, slowly, the 
        noise lessened. The water stopped pouring down over the dome. The gravity 
        disruption had stopped.  
      
        “We’ve done it?” Jamie asked. “It was really so 
        easy? Just turning a little knob like that?”  
      
        “As easy as that. But there is nothing to stop anyone turning it 
        back on again. Our work is not yet done.” 
      
        Zoë wondered what The Doctor meant at first, but it became quite 
        obvious when two people materialised in the dome in a sudden shimmer of 
        bright light. They were dressed as mechanics, and carried no weapons, 
        but as soon as they saw The Doctor and his companions they accused them 
        of being trespassers and threatened to arrest them. 
      
        “Arrest me?” Jamie responded angrily. He reached for his dirk 
        and ran at the closest man who immediately put up his hands and surrendered. 
        The other one did the same when he saw that Jamie was armed.  
      
        “I rather think it is you who are under arrest,” The Doctor 
        said calmly, examining the logos on their overalls and the transmat controls 
        on their wrists. “You belong to an organisation called ‘New 
        Horizons’. What’s that when it’s at home, which it clearly 
        isn’t if it is here.” 
      
        “Terraforming,” one of the men managed to explain. “We 
        prepare planets for habitation. This one was designated uninhabitable 
        because there was no water. We were….” 
      
        “Stealing the water from the other planet,” The Doctor finished. 
        “So we saw,” 
      
        “It’s not stealing. The other planet is uninhabitable with 
        nothing but water. Sharing the resource would make two planets fit for 
        colonisation….” 
      
        “But it isn’t uninhabitable,” Zoë protested. “You 
        got THAT all wrong, you silly people. You were about to do something absolutely 
        terrible.” 
      
        “I think we need to see your superiors,” The Doctor said. 
        “I do hope they are prepared to be reasonable. Zoë, Jamie, 
        you hold onto that chap there. I’ll stick with this one. Now, take 
        us to your leader.” 
      
        They materialised aboard what was clearly a space ship in orbit around 
        the desert planet. A view from a huge exo-glass window showed the ocean 
        covered one emerging as a rising moon above the wide plateau where the 
        artificial dome was visible even from space. Their appearance caused consternation, 
        especially when it was clear that the two mechanics were The Doctor’s 
        prisoners, not the other way around.  
      
        “Under the terms of the Tiron Proclamation of Intergalactic Year 
        22698, you have committed a potential act of genocide which invalidates 
        your contract to terraform the planet below,” The Doctor said with 
        an authority in his voice that belied his hobo-like appearance. Zoë 
        and Jamie had both seen it before, but the directors of New Horizons obviously 
        hadn’t. They were hypnotised by the cyclone of rage that was vented 
        upon them.  
      
        “Of course… if the ocean planet is inhabited that changes 
        matters considerably,” the Director of the company admitted when 
        he had chance to get a word in. “May I ask how many millions of 
        people live on these rafts?” 
      
        “I don’t think there ARE millions,” Zoë said. “We’ve 
        only met a few. But….” 
      
        “It does not matter if there are a million or six billion, or a 
        hundred people there,” The Doctor said when the Director began to 
        talk about transplanting the raft people. “It is their planet. There 
        are a dozen more treaties I could name that guarantee the preservation 
        of indigenous peoples and their ways of life. You will not touch them 
        or one single drop of the water that covers their world.” 
      
        “Then what are we to do?” the Director questioned. “There 
        are two hundred thousand colonists expecting to settle on the planet below. 
        They are on their way in deep space cruisers.” 
      
        “They will have to turn back,” The Doctor insisted. 
      
        “Why isn’t there any water there?” Jamie asked. “It 
        doesna make sense. There’s more than enough on the ocean planet. 
        Why should that one have none?” 
      
        “It is in the same orbit,” Zoë added. “The same 
        temperature. Jamie is right. It really doesn’t make sense.” 
      
        “You’re both right,” The Doctor told her. “Show 
        me the geological reports for this planet.” 
      
        He addressed the last to the Director, who found the information he wanted 
        without even questioning The Doctor’s authority to ask for it. He 
        felt peculiarly powerless before the strangely dressed intruder who, deep 
        down, he thought he ought to have thrown into his brig rather than co-operating 
        with his demands. 
      
        “Ah, yes, I see,” The Doctor said after studying the geological 
        report for a little while. “Yes, I see…. You didn’t 
        really look at this properly, did you? You never even considered the water 
        existing on the planet below.”  
      
        “There is no water on that planet,” the director protested. 
        “It is a desert.” 
      
        “The water is underground,” The Doctor pointed out. “Look 
        at the mineral content of the sand. It contains fossilised shells, traces 
        of sodium. That desert below used to be an ocean bed. Some time in the 
        distant past the water submerged, leaving a desert surface and huge oceans 
        of water in caverns between impermeable layers of rock in the mantle of 
        the planet.” 
      
        “You mean… there IS water there?” Zoë concluded 
        before anyone from New Horizons had worked out what The Doctor was saying. 
      
        “There is MORE than enough water for irrigating fields, supplying 
        settlements with potable drinking water, all that a new colony planet 
        needs. And you have a machine down there in that dome that can make the 
        job easy. All you have to do is reverse your gravity disrupter and it 
        will bring the water up from beneath the surface and fill a freshwater 
        lake the size of a… a very big lake. Anyway, it will work, and you 
        can leave the other planet alone. It belongs to the raft people.” 
      
      Two nights later they sat on a gently drifting raft on a warm, balmy 
        night and looked at the red moon. One huge part of it was no longer red 
        – it was a green-blue colour. The gravity disrupter had already 
        brought enough water from the subterranean oceans to create an inland 
        sea. Soon, without even needing any kind of terraforming, rivers would 
        form. The land would be watered. It would be fertile again, ready for 
        those colonists who were going to come to live there. 
      
        “They won’t be allowed to interfere with this planet,” 
        The Doctor said. “The raft people will continue to live their peaceful 
        nomadic life upon their ocean. The new settlers will make what they choose 
        of their new world, and it is to be hoped that they will be content there.” 
      
        Zoë looked up at the red moon that would, in time, no longer be red, 
        but blue and white and green like the Earth she came from. She probably 
        wouldn’t see it that way, but she and Jamie and The Doctor had begun 
        the process that others would finish in time to come. 
      
        Meanwhile, The Doctor had promised another week of holiday with the raft 
        people of Ocean Blue before they went on again to new adventures in the 
        TARDIS. 
        
      
        
        
      
      
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