. I was suppose to be going to a Sci-Fi Con in Las Vegas...", before I could finish, the doctor laughed cutting me off."You can forget about that Sci-...Fi Con. You're not going anywhere for the rest of the week. We're keeping you here to monitor you," he said."You don't understand, doctor. I've been planning this trip for a year." Your health is more important than a Sci-Fi Con. Besides, your car was towed anyway..."I sighed, giving up my fight. I knew the doctor was right and besides there was. " Oh I don't think he's a problem ... GOD BRIAN IS SO GOOD FUCKING MY CUNT! ... I think he was just one of those toffy-nosed aristocrats who was out slumming it trying to pick up a bit of pop-star pussy." She laughed. "I just think he got his stars a bit mixed up." Hardly Vikki, hardly," I said and there was universal agreement from the other six people in the room who had agreed to remain silent until they were announced, "I think our man knows a superstar when he meets one." Well maybe. Hey. It’s going to take time to work those out of his system, and then he will need time to need to repair the damaged and atrophied muscles. It’s going to be hard work, and probably painful for a while. And it was too late to do anything about the scarring – the potions, while they kept him alive long enough for you to bring me here, sealed the skin together rather ... unfortunately.“But for all that, look at him. His colour is back, and even in his sleep he’s clinging to her like rashvine. He’ll. Then, “I think she died.”“Drugs?” I asked.“No I don’t think so. I think she was beaten up by her boyfriend and didn’t survive. It made the papers, he was sentenced to life, minimum twenty-five years. There was talk that he only just missed being hung for it.“You could try the Manchester Evening News: it’ll be in their archives. You came to me in ‘65 aged four, and you’d been fostered somewhere else in the meantime. Try going backwards from March or April 1965. Big job.”“I’ll do that, Mum, and.