"I 'ave, sir," said Inspector Springer with heavy satisfaction, "been invested with Special Powers.

The 'Ome Secretary 'imself 'as ordered me to look into this case."

"The new machine — my, um, Chronomnibus — was requisitioned," said the time-traveller apologetically from the background. "As a patriot, though strictly speaking not from this universe…"

"Under conditions of utmost secrecy," continued the Inspector, "we embarked upon our Mission…"

Jherek and Mrs. Underwood stood on their threshold and contemplated their visitors.

"Which is?" Mrs. Underwood was frowning pensively at her husband.

"To place the ringleaders of this plot under arrest and return forthwith to our own century so that they — that's you, of course, among 'em — may be questioned as to their motives and intentions."

Inspector Springer was evidently quoting specifically from his orders.

"And Mr. Underwood?" Jherek asked politely. "Why is he here?"

" 'E's one o' the few 'oo can identify the people we're after. Anyway, 'e volunteered."

She said, bemusedly: "Have you come to take me back, Harold?"

"Ha!" said her husband.

Sergeant Sherwood, sweating and, it seemed, only barely in control of himself, fingering his tight, dark blue collar, emerged from the ranks of his constables (who, like him, seemed to be suffering from shock) and, saluting, stood beside his leader.

"Shall we place these two under arrest, sir?"

Inspector Springer licked his lips contemplatively. " 'Ang on a mo, sergeant, before putting 'em in the van." He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a document, turning to Jherek. "Are you the owner of these premises?"

"Not exactly," said Jherek, wondering if the translation pills he and Amelia had taken were doing their job properly. "That is to say, if you could explain the meaning of the term, perhaps I could…"

"Are you or are you not the owner…"

"Do you mean did I create this house?"

"If you built it, too, fair enough. All I want to know…"

"Mrs. Underwood created it, didn't you, Amelia?"

"Ha!" said Mr. Underwood, as if his worst suspicions were confirmed. He glared coldly at the fairy-tale palace.

"This lady built it?" Inspector Springer became pettish. "Now, listen 'ere…"

"I gather you are unfamiliar with the methods of building houses at the End of Time, Inspector," said Mrs. Underwood, making some effort to save the situation. "One has power-rings. They enable one —"

Inspector Springer raised a stern hand. "Let me put it another way. I 'ave 'ere a warrant to search your premises or, indeed, any premises I might regard as 'avin' upon them evidence in this matter, or

'arbourin' suspected criminals. So, if you will kindly allow me and my men to pass…"

"Certainly." Jherek and Amelia stepped aside as Inspector Springer led his men into the hall. Harold Underwood hesitated a moment, but at last crossed the threshold, as if into the netherworld, while the time-traveller hung back, his cap in his hands, murmuring disconnected phrases. "Awfully embarrassing

… had no idea … a bit of a joke, really … regret the inconvenience … Home Secretary assured me …

can see no reason for intrusion … would never have agreed…" But at Jherek's welcoming gesture, he joined the others. "Delightful house … very similar to those structures one finds in the, um … fifty-eighth century, is it? … Glad to find you arrived back safely … am still a trifle at sea, myself…"

"I have never seen such a large time-machine," said Jherek, hoping to put him at ease.

"Have you not?" The time-traveller beamed. "It is unusual, isn't it? Of course, the commercial possibilities have not escaped me, though since the Government took an interest, everything has been shrouded in secrecy, as you can imagine. This was my first opportunity to test it under proper conditions."

"It would be best, sir, I think," cautioned Inspector Springer, "to say no more to these people. They are, after all, suspected alien agents."

"Oh, but we have met before. I had no idea, when I agreed to help, that these were the people you meant. Believe me, Inspector, they are almost undoubtedly innocent of any crime."

"That's for me to decide, sir," reproved the policeman. "The evidence I was able to place before the

'Ome Secretary upon my return was sufficient to convince 'im of a plot against the Crown."

"He seemed somewhat bewildered by the whole affair. His questions to me were not exactly explicit…"

"Oh, it's bewildering, right enough. Cases of this kind often are. But I'll get to the bottom of it, given time." Inspector Springer fingered his watch-chain. "That's why there is a police force, sir. To solve bewildering cases."

"Are you certain that you are within your jurisdiction, Inspector…" began Mrs. Underwood.

"I 'ave ascertained from the gentleman 'ere," Inspector Springer indicated the time-traveller, "that we are still on English soil. Therefore…"

"Is it really?" cried Jherek. "How wonderful!"

"Thought you'd get away with it, eh?" murmured Sergeant Sherwood, eyeing him maliciously.

"Made a bit of a mistake, didn't you, my lad?"

" 'Ow many others staying 'ere?" Inspector Springer enquired as he and his men tramped into the main hall. He looked with disgust upon the baskets of flowers which hung everywhere, upon the tapestries and the carpets and the furniture, which was of the most decadent sort of design.

"Only ourselves." Mrs. Underwood glanced away from the grim eye of her husband.

"Ha!" said Mr. Underwood.

"We have separate apartments," she explained to the inspector, upon whose ruddy features there had spread the suggestion of a leer.

"Well, sir," said Sergeant Sherwood, "shall we take this pair back first?"

"To the nineteenth century?" Jherek asked.

"That is what he means," the time-traveller replied on the sergeant's behalf.

"This would be your opportunity, Amelia." Jherek's voice was small. "You said that you wished, still, to return…"

"It is true…" she began.

"Then…?"

"The circumstances…"

"You two 'ad better stay 'ere," Inspector Springer was telling two of the constables, "to keep an eye on 'em. We'll search the premises." He led his men off towards a staircase. Jherek and Amelia sat down on a padded bench.

"Would you care for some tea?" Amelia asked her husband, the time-traveller and the two constables.

"Well…" said one of the constables.

"I think that'd be all right, ma'am," said the other.

Jherek was eager to oblige. He turned a power-ring and produced a silver tea-pot, six china cups and saucers, a milk-jug and a hot-water jug, a silver tea-strainer, six silver spoons and a primus stove.

"Sugar, I think," she murmured, "but not the stove."

He corrected his error.

The two police constables sat down together quite suddenly, goggling at the tea. Mr. Underwood remained standing, but seemed rather more stiff than he had been. He muttered to himself. Only the time-traveller reacted in a normal fashion.

Mrs. Underwood seemed to be suppressing amusement as she poured the tea and handed out the cups. The constables accepted the tea, but only one of them drank any. The other merely said, "Gord!"

and put his cup on the table, while his companion grinned weakly and said: "Very good, very good," over and over again.

From above there came a sudden loud cracking sound and a yell. Puzzled, Jherek and Amelia looked up.

"I do hope they are not damaging…" began the time-traveller.

There was a thunder of boots and Inspector Springer, Sergeant Sherwood and their men came tumbling, breathless, back into the hall.

"They're attacking!" cried Sergeant Sherwood to the other two policemen.

" 'Oo?"

"The enemy, of course!" Inspector Springer answered, running to peer cautiously out of the window. "They must know we've occupied these premises. They're a cunning lot, I'll grant you that."

"What happened up there, Inspector?" asked Jherek, carrying forward a cup of tea for his guest.

"Something took the top off the tower, that's all!" Automatically the inspector accepted the tea.

"Clean off. Some kind of 'igh-powered naval gun, I'd say. 'Ave you got any sea near 'ere?"

"None, I fear. I wonder who could have done that." Jherek looked enquiringly at Amelia. She shrugged.

"The Wrath of God!" announced Mr. Underwood helpfully, but nobody took much notice of his suggestion.

"I remember once, some flying machine of the Duke of Queens' crashed into my ranch," Jherek said. "Did you notice a flying machine, Inspector?"

Inspector Springer continued to peer through the window. "It was like a bolt from the blue," he said.

"One minute the roof was there," added Sergeant Sherwood, "the next it was gone. There was this explosion — then — bang! — gone. It got very 'ot for a second, too."

"Sounds like some sort of ray," said the time-traveller, helping himself to another cup of tea.

Inspector Springer proved himself a reader of the popular weeklies by the swiftness with which he accepted the notion. "You mean a Death Ray?"

"If you like."

Inspector Springer fingered his moustache. "We were fools not to come armed," he reflected.

"Ah!" Jherek remembered his first encounter with the brigand-musicians in the forest. "That's probably the Lat returned. They had weapons. They demonstrated one. Very powerful they were, too."

"Those Latvians. I might 'ave guessed!" Inspector Springer crouched lower. " 'Ave you any means of telling 'em you're our prisoners?"

"None at all, I fear. I could go and find them, but they could be hundreds of miles away."

" 'undreds? Oh, Lor!" exclaimed Sergeant Sherwood. He looked at the ceiling, as if he expected it to fall in on him. "You're right, Inspector. We should've put in for some pistols."

"The Day of Doom is here!" intoned Harold Underwood, raising a finger.

"We must introduce him to Lord Mongrove," Jherek said, inspired. "They would get on very well, don't you think, Amelia?"

But she did not reply. She was staring with a mixture of sympathy and resignation at her poor, mad husband. "I am to blame," she said. "It is all my doing. Oh, Harold, Harold."

There came another loud report. Cracks began to appear in the walls and ceiling. Jherek turned a power-ring and re-formed the palace. "I think you'll find the roof's back on, Inspector, should you wish to continue your tour."

"I'll receive a medal for this, if I ever get back," said Inspector Springer to himself. He sighed.

"I'd suggest, sir," said his sergeant, "that we make the most of what we've got and return with these two."

"You're probably right. We'll do a dash for it. Better put the gyves on 'em, eh?"

Two constables produced their handcuffs and advanced towards Jherek and Amelia.

At that moment an apparition appeared at the window and drifted through. It was Bishop Castle, completely out of breath, looking extremely excited, his huge mitre askew. "Oh, the adventures, my dears! The Lat have returned and are laying waste to everything! Murder, pillage, rape! It's marvellous!

Ah, you have company…"

"I believe you've met most of them," Jherek said. "This is Inspector Springer, Sergeant Sherwood…"

Bishop Castle subsided slowly to the floor, nodding and smiling. Blinking, the constables backed away.

"They have taken prisoners, too. Just as they took us prisoner, that time. Ah, boredom is banished, at last! And there has been a battle — the Duke of Queens magnificent, in charge of our aerial fleet (it did not last more than a few seconds, unfortunately, but it did look pretty), and My Lady Charlotina as an amazon, in a chariot. Amusement returns to our dull world! Dozens, at least, are dead!" He waved his crook apologetically at the company. "You must forgive the interruption. I am so sorry. I forget my manners."

"I know you," said Inspector Springer significantly. "I arrested you before, at the Café Royal."

"So pleased to see you again, Inspector." It was plain that Bishop Castle had not understood a word that Inspector Springer had said. He popped a translation pill into his mouth. "You decided to continue your party, then, at the End of Time?"

"End of Time?" said Harold Underwood, showing fresh interest. "Armageddon?"

Amelia Underwood went to him. She tried to sooth him. He shook her off.

"Ha!" he said.

"Harold. You're being childish."

"Ha!"

Despondently, she remained where she was, staring at him.

"You should see the destruction," continued Bishop Castle. He laughed. "Nothing at all is left of Below-the-Lake, unless Brannart's laboratories are still there. But the menagerie is completely gone, and all My Lady Charlotina's apartments — the lake itself — all gone! It'll take her hours to replace them."

He tugged at Jherek's sleeve. "You must return with me and see the spectacle, Jherek. That's why I came away, to make sure you did not miss it all."

"Your friends aren't going anywhere, sir. And neither, I might add, are you." Inspector Springer signalled his constables forward.

"How wonderful! You'd take us prisoners, too! Have you any weapons, like the Lats? You must produce something, Inspector, to rival their effects, unless you wish to be absolutely outshone!"

"I thought these Latvians were on your side," said Sergeant Sherwood.

"Indeed, no! What would be the fun of that?"

"You say they're destroying everything. Rape, pillage, murder?"

"Exactly."

"Well, I never…" Inspector Springer scratched his head. "So you're merely the foils of these people, instead o' the other way about?"

"I think there's a misunderstanding, Inspector," said Mrs. Underwood. "You see…"

"Misunderstanding!" Suddenly Harold Underwood lurched towards her. "Jezebel!"

"Harold!"

"Ha!"

There came another boom, louder than the previous ones, and the ceiling vanished to reveal the sky.

"It can only be the Lat," said Bishop Castle, with the air of an expert. "You really must come with me. Jherek and Amelia, unless you want to be destroyed before you have enjoyed any of the fun." He began to lead them towards his air-car at the window. "There'll be nothing left of our world, at this rate!"

"Do they really mean to destroy you all?" asked the time-traveller, as they went by.

"I gather not. They originally came for prisoners. Mistress Christia, of course," this to Jherek, "is now a captive. I think it's their habit to go about the galaxy killing the males and abducting the females."

"You'll let them?" Mrs. Underwood enquired.

"What do you mean?"

"You won't stop this?"

"Oh, eventually, I suppose we'll have to. Mistress Christia wouldn't be happy in space. Particularly if it has become as bleak as Mongrove reports."

"What do you say, Amelia? Shall we go and watch? Join in?" Jherek wanted to know.

"Of course not."

He suppressed his disappointment.

"Perhaps you wish me to be abducted by those creatures?" she said.

"Indeed, no!"

"Perhaps it would be better to return in my Chronomnibus," suggested the time-traveller, "at least until —"

"Amelia?"

She shook her head. "The circumstances are too shameful for me. Respectable society would be closed to me now."

"Then you will stay, dearest Amelia?"

"Mr. Carnelian, this is no time to continue with your pesterings. I will accept that I am an outcast, but I still have certain standards of behaviour. Besides, I am concerned for Harold. He is not himself.

And for that, we are to blame. Well, perhaps not you, really — but I must accept a large share of guilt. I should have been firmer. I should not have admitted my love —" and she burst into tears.

"You do admit it, then, Amelia!"

"You are heartless, Mr. Carnelian," she sobbed, "and scarcely tactful…"

"Ha!" said Harold Underwood. "It is just as well that I have already begun divorce proceedings…"

"Excellent!" cried Jherek.

Another boom.

"My machine!" exclaimed the time-traveller, and ran outside.

"Take cover, men." Inspector Springer called. They all lay down.

Bishop Castle was already in his air-car, surrounded by a cloud of dust. "Are you coming, Jherek?"

"I think not. I hope you enjoy yourself, Bishop Castle."

"I shall. I shall." The air-car began to rise, Charon's barge, into the upper atmosphere.

Only Mr. and Mrs. Underwood and Jherek Carnelian remained standing, in the ruins of the palace.

"Come," said Jherek to them both, "I think I know where we can find safety." He turned a power-ring.

His old air-car, the locomotive, materialized. It was in gleaming red and black now, but lime-coloured smoke still puffed from its stack. "Forgive the lack of invention," he said to them, "but as we are in haste…"

"You would save Harold, too?" she said, as Jherek helped her husband aboard.

"Why not? You say you are concerned for him." He grinned cheerfully, while overhead a searing, scarlet bolt of pure energy went roaring by, "Besides, I wish to hear the details of this divorce he plans. Is that not the ceremony that must take place before we can be married?"

She made no reply to this, as she joined him on the footplate. "Where are we going, Mr.

Carnelian?"

The locomotive began to puff skyward. "I'm full of old smokies," he sang, "I'm covered in dough.

I've eaten blue plovers and I'm snorting up coke!" Mr. Underwood clutched the rail and stared down at the ruins they left behind. His knees were shaking. "It's a railroad song, from your own time," Jherek explained. "Would you like to be the fireman?"

He offered Mr. Underwood the platinum shovel. Mr. Underwood accepted the shovel without a word and, mechanically, began to stoke coal into the fire-chamber.

"Mr. Carnelian! Where are we going?"

"To certain safety, dearest Amelia. To certain safety, I assure you."