The TARDIS disguised itself as a small but expensive yacht in Galway City’s harbour marina. There was no reason why the semi-sentient ship should have chosen such a disguise in the midst of an urban area with plenty of street furniture to emulate, except that they were here to visit a friend they knew from the crew of the RSV Wayfarer.
The TARDIS was being consistent.
The restaurant called ‘A Taste of Baiae’ was on the not very Irish sounding Spanish Parade, not far from the marina. On its window was a translucent painting of one of the mosaic floors beneath the sea that the crew of the RSV Wayfarer had explored and mapped. Inside, on the walls, were pictures of the ancient ruins of Baiae that lie within the modern town on the sun-drenched Aegean coastline. Chrístõ and Garrick remembered their adventures in both with fond smiles.
“My friends,” said a warm voice with a strong echo of Italy mixed with a Galway lilt. The manageress came from her desk to greet them both with Latin kisses on both cheeks.
“Good afternoon, Mrs Hanratty,” Chrístõ said to her, noting how well she looked in a close-fitting black cocktail dress and a short hairstyle. His greeting was not meant to be formal, but to recognise that she was now a long way from being Licinia, the unhappy abused wife of the Roman civil servant, Tibius Desticius Severna. Are the children well?
“Lucy is in her first school year and Patrice at nursery,” she answered." You shall see them, later, but right now you must sit at a window table and Patrick will come to you.”
The restaurant’s lunchtime trade was brisk, but the best table had been kept for them. While they drank lime soda to whet their appetites, the proprietor and head chef, Patrick Hanratty, came to them personally bringing bowls of his signature dish, Oyster stew, the oysters from the waters off Galway, the combination of herbs and spices that flavoured it from the Roman Empire in the first century AD.
“You’re doing well, here?” Chrístõ noted as he sat with them." The restaurant is doing good business?”
“It is,” Patrick answered." At first, I worried it was a novelty that would wear off, but we have three Indian restaurants around us, the Siam Garden opposite and ‘traditional Irish cuisine’ up the road. We fitted in beautifully. We’re a big hit. And Li… she has thrived here. Her old life is a distant memory. She doesn’t even have nightmares about it any more.”
“That’s good to know,” Chrístõ told him. Breaking the laws of causality was worth it when it resulted in a happy family like this. “And I can assure you the oyster stew is just as good made with Galway oysters.”
“I’ve got a lobster bisque to die for on my evening specials menu,” Patrick told him." And a salmon linguini combination that got me a very good review last year.”
“Then we certainly know where we're eating tonight,” Garrick commented." I don’t know what we are doing for the afternoon. I still don’t understand this idea of ‘tourism’ that brings Chrístõ to Earth so often. Just ‘looking’ at buildings....”
“Not just looking,” Patrick assured him." Tourism is my bread and butter.”
That food metaphor utterly confused Garrick. Chrístõ explained that they were merely going to stroll around the Latin Quarter looking at old medieval walls and a few antique shops." We need to start thinking about gifts to bring back to our friends at home.”
Garrick’s expression didn’t change, but Chrístõ felt a brief flash of emotion from his brother. He wasn’t especially looking forward to returning to Gallifrey and his preparation for the Prydonian Academy.
The Latin Quarter of Galway was also the most historic part of the city. The afternoon passed pleasantly. The brothers returned to Spanish Parade in the early evening, in time to meet Patrick and Licinia’s children and see them off to bed, then enjoy aperitifs (non-alcoholic in Garrick’s case) before their table for dinner was ready.
“Spain is part of the Iberian peninsula,” Garrick said as they enjoyed the lobster bisque and watched the street outside slowly darken as the sun went down over Galway City, if not actually the infamously non-existent Galway Bay. “And Italy is the part of this planet usually called Latin.”
“You don’t understand why this is Spanish Parade in the Latin Quarter?” Chrístõ anticipated Garrick’s question." I’m not exactly sure, to be honest. Galway’s Spanish connections date back to the Spanish Armada losing a few ships on the coastline, but I’m not sure that has anything to do with the modern place names. Bridge Street has a bridge, Quay street is by the old docks. That’s as much logic as you need to look for. Just enjoy the ambience.”
That was something Garrick wasn’t doing very easily. The restaurant was crowded. The street outside, with restaurants, bars and a cinema complex further down, was popular with tourists and locals alike and getting busier as the evening darkened. Garrick had grown up on a country estate and rarely mixed with such crowds. He wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“I once felt like that,” Chrístõ told him." Earth is so busy. It frightened me a little. But you can get used to it. I should take you to a music festival. Glastonbury, maybe. Or Slane Castle in the 1980s. That’ll either cure you of your fear of crowds or scare you into becoming a hermit.”
“We’re going back to Gallifrey after this trip,” Garrick pointed out. “We don’t have time.”
“I’m a Time Lord. There is always time. That’s a plan for your holidays home from the Academy. I’ll get you used to crowds, all right.”
“I will be all right in any such place if you are with me,” Garrick decided." I trust you.”
“You shouldn’t. I just remembered I have tickets for Live Aid that I’ve never used.”
Garrick was on the point of asking what ‘Live Aid’ was when he was distracted by a change in the happy atmosphere amongst the crowds outside and a sudden swell of people coming towards the nearside pavement.
Chrístõ noticed it, too. He stood up urgently. Just as he was moving towards the door he heard somebody call out the most urgent and frightening word of all.
“Fire!”
The trouble was in the Siam Garden - the Thai restaurant opposite. As Chrístõ used Power of Suggestion to clear his way across the road he saw the patrons and staff evacuating safely as well as the glow of a fire taking a very rapid hold on the restaurant interior.
Then above all the speculative conversation there was a cry of alarm. It came from a man with far Eastern features who was calling out, in Thai, for his wife and children.
“Are they still inside?” Chrístõ asked, in Thai. He thought the man could probably speak English, but in his distress he had reverted to his first language. He told Chrístõ that his wife had gone to get the children while he took responsibility for the people in his restaurant.
But they had not come out, and the fire was intense. Nobody was going inside again by any normal ground floor entrance.
He turned to tell his brother to stay put, but Garrick wasn’t there. A new rise in excitement amongst the onlookers made him turn back in time to see the boy who was nervous about crowds climbing up the drainpipe at the corner of the building and swinging himself towards an open window in the private apartment above the restaurant.
He swore under his breath in language that would make Garrick’s mother swoon and ran to use the same means of getting up to the top floor. By the time he got to the window Garrick was ready to pass a small and terrified child out to him. He slowly climbed back down the way he came with the infant in one arm, thankful to find other helpers on the ground to pass him down to before he climbed back again.
The fire had reached the bedroom. They needed to get the mother and the other child out of there quickly. The fire engine sounded closer but it might not be close enough.
“We need to go up, not down,” he said to his brother telepathically. "The flat roof is quicker and easier. Give me the other child. You help the mother."
“You know how to levitate, don’t you?” Garrick said in reply. “Can’t you....”
“Not with fifty-odd people down there uploading this live to U-Tube,” he answered.
But it wasn’t the worst idea. He could make it look like he was clinging to footholds in the brick while imposing his will on gravity.
By that subterfuge he reached the relative safety of a roof on top of a burning building and set the child down. Then he leaned over and reached for the mother who was struggling to climb the drainpipe in the remnants of the tight cheongsam dress she had been wearing to greet customers in the restaurant. He grasped her hands and again forced gravity to obey him as he inched back, followed by Garrick, who complained that the drainpipe was hot.
“Yes, we're not much better off up here. There’s a bit of fresh air, at least. But the professionals will be here any moment. We’ll be safe. We might get told off by them for taking unnecessary risks."
“The top floor is alight,” Garrick pointed out." I’m not sure it WAS unnecessary. But what started a fire like that. Don’t restaurants on this planet have safety standards?”
“That’s a very good question,” Chrístõ conceded. The crisis had developed very fast. But the fire engine was here at last. A ‘cherry picker' was being raised to get them all down to safety. There were other things to think about.
Later, there was time to reflect. The two children of Mr and Mrs Angchuan, after being treated at the scene for minor smoke inhalation, were put to bed with the Hanratty children. Meanwhile, Patrick and Garrick were downstairs serving oyster stew to the patrons of the Siam Garden who had been forced to abandon their meals. Licinia made tea for the traumatised proprietors of the burnt-out restaurant and Chrístõ had a chance to talk to them.
Again, although they could speak English, it was easier for them to express their feelings in their birth language and they didn’t question that Chrístõ spoke that language, or that Licinia, having travelled in the TARDIS and thus inheriting its gift of tongues, could listen to them sympathetically.
What they heard was baffling. Both of the Angchuans insisted that the cause of the fire was a burning man. Mrs Angchuan, whose first name was Kanda, spoke of a thin, pale man who sat alone and ate soup. This man had suddenly cried out and begun to glow. As fellow diners looked on in curiosity, then horror, he became incandescent. The chair he was sitting on caught fire. Then he stood and ran, setting light to everything he touched whether it was fireproof or not. The alarms went off. So did a sprinkler system, but it wasn’t enough to put out a man of fire. Kanda ran to her children and would have been trapped but for Garrick and Chrístõ, to whom she expressed her gratitude for the hundredth time.
“I don’t know about ‘fire demons’,” Licinia said in English, translating a colourful oriental word. “But there have been many unexplained fires in recent weeks. Patrick can explain. He has been keeping notes.”
“I’ll talk to him later.” Chrístõ turned back to the Angchuans." I believe you. But I imagine the fire investigators will look for a more usual cause, and I wouldn’t mention it to your insurance company, either. I suggest you let Li sort you out a bed in her spare room. Get a good sleep and try not to worry too much.”
The Angchuans were too weary to argue. They put themselves in the hands of their neighbours. Chrístõ replenished the teapot and waited thoughtfully until Patrick and Garrick closed up the restaurant and came up to the private apartment.
“Yes,” Patrick said when Chrístõ asked about fires." I make this the eighth in two weeks in the harbour area and the Latin quarter. The gardaí don’t seem to have made any connection, but...look."
Patrick brought out a map of Galway city and spread it on the dining table. He had already marked several places.
“The first was here, where the old gasometers used to be. Its all being redeveloped into high-end harbour front hotels and apartments. The fire destroyed one of the works portacabins. Then a day or two later part of this building was damaged. Its a seafood wholesalers. I've had to get my fish elsewhere while it was shut. Then here... These are holiday flats. Another bright idea to gentrify the old docklands. A fire started in the laundrette in the basement. Another office, here, for a freight company, a lorry parked by the harbour wall. Then a few days ago, the cinema over here had a fire in a storeroom. Fortunately, its sprinkler system is state of the art. Damage was minimal. They just lost a freezer full of ice cream. But tonight was the worst... And the most potentially deadly. I keep thinking if it was us, our kids in bed upstairs...."
“Don’t think about it. That will just drive you mad.”
“What about this ‘Fire Demon?. Are the Angchuans just overwrought or did they really see a man spontaneously combust in their restaurant?"
“I don’t know," Chrístõ answered. “Which is, as you recall, my least favourite phrase. I fully intend to find out, later. You and Li should get to bed, soon. You’ve got kids to look after and a business to run. If Garrick and I can crash in your living room for the night, it would aid my investigation."
“No problem,” Patrick agreed. “I would have offered the spare room, but the Angchuans have it.” He looked thoughtfully at the map, then folded it again. "I feel a lot better about all this for you being around. Your solutions to problems tend to be better than anyone else's.”
That was as much of an endorsement as Chrístõ needed. He and Garrick settled down on two comfortable sofas while the extended household slept and the street outside fell into quiet after so much excitement earlier.
When the quiet was fully set in, the two young Gallifreyans rose and crept quietly out into the street. It wasn’t fully dark, of course. There were streetlamps. And nor were they entirely unobserved. Several buildings had CCTV overlooking the area.
Chrístõ adjusted his sonic screwdriver and pointed it towards those hidden cameras. They would all experience a few minutes of ‘snow’, long enough for him to cross over to the Siam Garden.
The burnt out entrance had been secured, of course. But not against a Time Lord with a sonic screwdriver. Before his interference with the CCTV wore off he and Garrick were inside the restaurant.
“Horrible smell,” Garrick remarked.
“A lot of different materials burnt,” Chrístõ commented." If safety codes were observed none of them will have produced dangerous chemicals. But if you can’t cope with the smell this is a good time to practice respiratory bypass.”
“I’m all right,” Garrick decided." What are we doing here exactly?”
“I’m going to read the room. Tomorrow a fire investigator will be doing it forensically. But first I need to do it telepathically. You can help. Join your mind with mine.”
“That's really advanced telepathy. I've never done it.”
“I know. You don’t have to do anything. Just focus on what I’m seeing.”
Garrick trusted him. He felt that as his mind joined with his. Both closed their eyes and saw the blackened restaurant with their minds instead. Then Chrístõ slowly turned back the clock, seeing the room before they entered.
The fire was easy to read. The trauma was etched indelibly on the very fabric of the room. Even the memory of it, viewed telepathically, burned with an intensity that Chrístõ and Garrick both felt painfully.
“It isn’t real,” Chrístõ assured his brother." We’re not really burning. But it is strange. I’ve examined a room psychically before and never felt any physical sensation."
He pushed time back to before the inferno. Their bodies were soothed by the warm ambience of the restaurant. They smelt the Oriental joss sticks that scented the room, adding an exotic ambience and disguising the smell of food being cooked.
They saw the strange, pale man Mrs Angchuan had described.
“He isn’t human,” Garrick remarked.
“No, he’s not,” Chrístõ confirmed." Though humans wouldn’t realise it. We’re attuned to the differences."
They saw the stricken expression on the pale man’s face. They saw him rise from his seat.
“He's trying to get out,” Garrick noted. He knows what's going to happen and he wants to get away from here, away from people he might harm. But its too late.”
They saw the nearly human figure turn incandescent and then become the source of the all-encompassing fire that was very nearly a death trap for the family above.
“That’s enough," Chrístõ said, bringing them both back to the present, to the burnt out but silent room that was a contrast to the noise of the fire.
“That was...."
“Exhausting.” Chrístõ held his brother for a long time. They were both mentally and physically wrung out by the telepathic effort.
“You did well,” Chrístõ assured Garrick." In fact... You did amazingly well. You picked up the Firestarter's emotions. You knew he was scared. You knew he wanted to get out of the restaurant and get to where he wouldn’t harm anyone. I didn’t see that. You did.”
“Does that mean....”
“It means you're going to have less trouble in telepathy class than I had. It also means none of this was malicious. The Firestarter didn’t want to make trouble.”
“So, what do we do now that we know? Do we try to find him?”
“We have to,” Chrístõ answered." For his good and for the humans of the Latin Quarter. He doesn’t want to kill, but next time he might not be able to help it.”
“Where do we look?"
“Around the harbour. The pattern of the fires on Patrick's map centres on there. Which is handy because we left the TARDIS right there.”
They slipped out of the devastated restaurant and then walked along the quiet city streets. A Garda patrol car passed them once and might have been going to slow down. It was late at night and they may have looked worthy of attention, but Chrístõ radiated Power of Suggestion with all his might and the car accelerated away.
“That was hard work from this distance,” he admitted." I'm having to use ALL my Time Lord ‘superpowers' tonight. Levitation, room reading, POS. Usually I can go for months without needing any of that."
“Those are abilities that are natural to our race,” Garrick pointed out. "Why shouldn’t you use them?”
“Because I live so much among humans. I don’t want to freak them out. People.. all people, not just humans... are scared of what they don’t understand.”
“You could use POS to make them understand."
“It is better not to ‘make' anyone do anything with POS or any other Telepathic skill. Free will is the most important thing any of us have.”
Garrick nodded in the dark. He felt as if he had been given a very important tenet to live by.
“You won’t go too far wrong even if that’s the only thing you’ve learnt, kiddo,” Chrístõ told him gently.
They reached the TARDIS in its yacht disguise and boarded it quietly. Inside, Humphrey greeted them like a pet dog as Chrístõ set to work at the environmental console.
“This must be the general area where he's hiding," he said, studying a map of the harbour area created by the TARDIS itself. "But how to pinpoint him? I'm picking up various life signs even in the middle of the night. Security guards around the businesses… I think there’s a huddle of rough sleepers in an old shed over here.... But would a shy alien go among them?”
He looked at his brother thoughtfully. He knew there WAS a way to scan the area for the Firestarter, but he wondered if Garrick would get it.
“You’re not thinking straight," his brother told him. "The alien gets burning hot all the time. So, chances are, even when he's not burning, his body temperature is higher than the humans around here?”
That was exactly the conclusion Chrístõ was waiting for. Garrick looked at him suspiciously, wondering if his brother had really not thought of that or if it had been a ‘test’.
Either way, the hunch proved correct. A heat detecting overlay showed a being with a body temperature more than forty degrees higher than a Human with a life-threatening fever. It had to be the Firestarter.
“Thank chaos he found this place now, and not twenty years ago,” Chrístõ noted." That area used to be all gasometers. He’d have blown this part of the city sky high. Now its a building site. Another redevelopment of the old docks. Shops, hotels...”
“How many shops and hotels does one city need?” Garrick wondered. Chrístõ had thought the same. The ‘gentrification’ of old industrial areas always seemed to follow a certain pattern.
But the point was that the site provided half completed constructions where a lost alien could hide from a society that would struggle to accept him on any level.
The TARDIS moved a mere quarter of a mile across the harbour and over a very high security fence before materialising as a portacabin in the development complex.
“At least its a cabin, not a ‘portaloo’ Chrístõ observed as he and Garrick stepped out into the semi-dark area. "That’s always a bit embarrassing.”
Garrick didn’t think the TARDIS's disguise mattered very much. What did worry him was a sudden outbreak of angry barking somewhere close by.
“They have guard dogs loose at night,” Chrístõ noted. “A surprisingly old school but effective method of security.”
“I'm not sure I LIKE dogs,” Garrick said, pressing himself up against the side of the TARDIS.
“Dogs are great,” Chrístõ answered. "I wish we had them on Gallifrey. But these ones might be a problem unless I can manage to use Power of Suggestion on them.”
“Does it work on animals?” Garrick asked.
“We’re about to find out.”
Three large German Shepherds whose glossy coats and well toned musculature would be admirable in other circumstances were approaching. Their snarls and growls were unmistakable signs that they saw the two visitors as trespassers. Chrístõ radiated Power of Suggestion with a desperation he had rarely felt. He wasn’t entirely sure he could persuade animals with such dedication to one purpose to change their minds.
But when the dogs were within biting distance they suddenly stopped making threatening noises and laid down submissively. Chrístõ leaned forward and scratched each dog behind the ears.
“Good boys,” he said. "You lie there and watch my TARDIS until we get back.”
He wasn’t going to tell Garrick how uncertain he had been of that working at all. But they were clear of the dogs. If there were security cameras as well, he could only hope nobody was monitoring them as they crossed a wide expanse of newly laid concrete that was bathed in strong electric light.
They came to what was going to be a leisure centre with an Olympic size swimming pool in a few months time. For now, it was a brick and steel girder shell with a deep foundation dug out, presumably to enclose the pool.
“Down there,” Chrístõ confirmed after sweeping the area with his sonic screwdriver and focussing on the deep concrete trough that was still a long way from being a luxury leisure facility. "See that conduit passage where the water pipes will be going sooner or later. The temperature in there is way higher than it ought to be.”
Chrístõ started to climb down. Garrick followed him cautiously.
“We’ve done an awful lot of climbing today,” Garrick pointed out. "As well as trespassing.”
“Both of which your mother isn’t going to hear about," Chrístõ answered as he reached the rough floor and waited for his brother to catch up.
The conduit was high enough for a man to fit into. There was still a lot of work to do there before it was finished. It was narrow, though, and, of course, absolutely dark. There was no reason to put security lights in a conduit. They walked single file, touching the narrow walls as a guide in the darkness only partially relieved by the penlight mode of the sonic, both wondering what they were heading into.
Chrístõ wondered if he ought to have made Garrick wait outside, or, for that matter, right back inside the TARDIS. This was dangerous stuff for a boy to be involved in.
Garrick wondered if he was brave enough to be of help to his brother - the war hero and adventurer who had tackled far more dangerous situations than this.
The passage widened out into what would one day be the pump control centre for the pool.
And there they found the alien Firestarter. His body as he hunched against the wall was glowing like a humanoid nightlight.
They had hardly approached stealthily. The alien looked up at them and his humanoid face displayed the very human emotion – fear.
Just in time Chrístõ turned and pushed his brother back into the tunnel, diving to the ground as a tongue of flame scorched the back of his jacket. He carefully reduced his body temperature to near freezing, which prevented his clothes from catching fire and shielded Garrick from the worst of the heat.
When it was over apart from the none too pleasant smell of scorched leather, he stood up slowly, picking up his brother and brushing him down before turning back into the future control room.
The alien was still glowing from within but much fainter, and as Chrístõ approached he shrunk back helplessly.
“We’re not here to harm you,” Chrístõ told him, kneeling down and spreading his hands to show he was unarmed. "I don’t think you can harm me, now. That wasn’t your strongest burst of heat, and I think you're worn out, now.”
The alien nodded weakly. Chrístõ had guessed correctly.
“I think you’re probably an Ogien, from the Antares sector. A mutable species, hence the more or less human shape you're holding at the moment. You’re like my TARDIS, changing shape to fit your environment. But THIS environment is no good for you. It’s too warm. You can’t control your temperature. That’s why you’ve been starting fires all over the place. I know they were accidents. You were just trying to find somewhere safe. Tonight, you tried to fit in amongst people, but it went terribly wrong."
Again the alien nodded. There was no need for him to say anything. His story was clear enough.
“How did he get here?” Garrick asked.
“That I’m not sure,” Chrístõ admitted." I'm guessing you're not trying to invade the planet all by yourself. Besides, who would start an invasion in Galway? Don’t worry. That’s a bit of humour. I guess you were off course, somehow. Like the Spanish Armada you came here by accident.”
There were still details he couldn’t fill in. He waited patiently, looking steadily and reassuringly at the Ogien.
Slowly, in a near whispering voice, the alien spoke at last. He described his mission to find new environments for his people. Ice worlds, polar regions.
“I’m not sure Earth's polar regions would do for you,” Chrístõ told him. "The humans are always exploring them, measuring them, trying to stop them from shrinking. I can recommend a couple of frozen worlds with no pesky indigenous species. But I think you probably need a lift home, first.”
The glow from within flickered hopefully.
“Yes, I can help you. Absolutely no problem. The Antares sector is a couple of hours away in my ship. We can drop you off and be back here for breakfast. Come on with us, now.”
Slowly the Ogien stood up. He followed Chrístõ back through the tunnel and up out of the future swimming pool.
They had almost reached the TARDIS, still guarded by the three placid dogs, when a voice called out to them. A security guard stepped in front of them. A flashlight dazzled their eyes and they were commanded to explain their presence in no uncertain terms.
“Oh, not again,” Chrístõ groaned. "More Power of Suggestion? I just can’t be bothered."
He took a step forward into the full beam of the flashlight.
“I am a Time Lord from Gallifrey in the constellation of Kasterborus. My brother is also an alien from Gallifrey, but he isn’t a Time Lord, yet. The other chap is a lost alien from the Antares sector. We're taking him home in my ship which is just behind you. Does that explain why we’re trespassing? Is there anything else I can tell you?”
“Aliens?” The guard looked, not surprisingly, sceptical of his explanation.
“Yes,” Garrick said. "I mean... Look at this one. Does he look human to you?”
The Ogien was glowing faintly again. Chrístõ looked at him warily, but he didn’t look as if he was strong enough to go incandescent. He was anxious, though, and the glow was a symptom of that.
It was enough for the security guard. He stepped back as quickly as a human without eyes in the back of his head could walk backwards. The three aliens carried on walking to their unlikely looking ship.
Chrístõ wasn’t sure if the security guard was still watching when the TARDIS dematerialised. If he was, that would undoubtedly be one more thing he wouldn’t be putting in his log book about tonight’s encounter.
He set their destination in the Antares sector and turned to look at his passenger. He was sitting on the thoroughly fire retardant sofa with Garrick. He wasn’t glowing, which was reassuring.
“He's all right, now,” Garrick said." He’s going home. He's not alone and scared. He won’t set us on fire.”
“Antares sector in one Earth hour. Time for a couple of iced drinks.”

The tidal locked ice world on the edge of a solar system that the lost alien called home was worthy of a full survey for the TARDIS database. Chrístõ made a promise to himself to do that soon. For now, they had a very quick drop off to do and then back to Galway.
It was a little past dawn when the TARDIS resumed its place in the marina. The sun cast a golden streak across the still water of the harbour. A blue sky with just a few wisps of white cloud arced over the peaceful Latin Quarter of Galway.
The brothers walked back to Spanish Parade, arriving just before Patrick’s morning delivery of fresh fish and seafood.
“Have you two ever had creamed oysters on wholemeal toast for breakfast,” he asked as they helped carry the load into the kitchen.
“No,” Garrick answered." But new experiences are what I'm here for.”
“At least this one we CAN tell your mother about,” Chrístõ added.