fancy seeing you here.

i'm too busy finishing this cheeseboard.

See those three bottles over there? And that dish and pipette, just here? I'd like you to take about two drops of each and put them in this dish.

Stop eating my lunch!

Language.

On the contrary! You haven't met an Oneirologist. They're from the Kalbeck constellation. Delightful chaps. Think of them like . . . The Kerblam! Prime of the West Frontier.

Aren't you taught this stuff in Kindergarten?

Butterflies are ever so intelligent, you know. When they deign to come down to our level and talk with us, I feel blessed. No two patterns are the same. Mmm, you ought to see my wings.

That's funny. I dreamed I was a butterfly last night. And then I went to bed in my dream. Trouble is, am I now a butterfly dreaming he's a Time Lord, or a Time Lord dreaming he's a butterfly? We've got a lot in common I suppose.

It's a magnetic field. The spin of aligned electrons and all that.

short of a mystery to me since i got stranded in the Dreaming. I'm still . . . Learning. Trying to fix our link. She doesn't speak to me the same anymore.

I wouldn't worry about it. Just don't go and do anything *too* wild, hmm?

I don't know. When I was younger, I used to feel a lot more sure about this kind of thing, which moments were stamped, which ones the ink hadn't dried on yet. But time, I find, has become a lot less sure of itself, the closer we've gotten to entropy. Not to mention that the TARDIS has been nothing

That's my lunch.

It's more like - the marble run, that is - a transduced quantum probability locator. A kind of physical rendition of Herron's Razor.

I'm sorry about him. We shouldn't have crossed into your own timeline. I don't know how we managed that, the TARDIS usually won't let me do that.

All time is relative, Cassie. Help me with this experiment, won't you?