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Her recent conversation with 'The Innovator' convinced Babs that she had put off setting up a global broadcast system for far too long. She had gone on a caffeine binge shortly after and now, after a few days with almost no sleep, she's finished.

With a final few keystrokes her salvaged network of satellites and radio stations begin broadcasting her digitally masked voice: "This is Oracle broadcasting on and monitoring all available frequencies. If you are receiving this message, please respond."

The system loops the message and constantly monitors for responses. There may be pockets of survivors out there, and if so then she definitely wants to know about them.

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Well. That makes life a lot easier.

"Oracle, hello. This is the Doctor. Waiting on your response."

A response already. Barbara grins to herself.

"Hello, Doctor. What is your situation? Do you need any immediate assistance?" First thing's first with Babs.

"Not at all, everything's peachy here. Actually, I was going to start looking for you but you got there first. I think we have a common acquaintance on the airwaves who could do with some help."

Aww. But the Doctor needs no help!

"There's only one person I know who's been making noise out there that I know of," Babs laughs. "Any idea where she is?"

"Not the faintest idea, beyond central Europe" she says ruefully. "I should be able to pinpoint her, but it's as if her signal keeps shifting. I have any number of theories as to why, but none of them leap out at me."

"Well that leaves us in the same boat it seems. Any suggestions?"

"I thought about checking out everywhere the signal seems to be coming from, just on the off chance she's there," she says. "Or at least heading over to Europe to see if I can track her down if I'm closer."

"You've got that kind of mobility?" Barbara asks, the surprise in her voice masked by her voice distortion programs. "I mean, the Arie One has the range, but I don't have the time or the fuel to do a search of that scale."

"Wherever you need me honey," she says. "I don't usually work for anyone but myself, but I seem to be stuck here like the rest of you. I'd imagine I can make an exception."

Fuel is not an issue for the TARDIS. Or food or water or, if it comes down to it, silly little things like oxygen

"I'm all over jealous," Barbara grins. "What do you have, some sort of teleportation system?"

"Type 40 TARDIS," she says. "Stands for 'Time and Relative Dimension(s) in Space' - normally I'd be able to get about the universe but I seem to be stuck on this planet for now."

"That's a bit nicer than my jet," Barbara laughs.

"Well, we're at your disposal," she says.

"That's really nice to know," Babs admits. "That'll be a big help."

"You're welcome," she says. "Can't track your signal either but I'm getting the feeling that's intentional. Give me your location and I'll drop by, you can check the TARDIS out yourself."

Barbara's grin is broad. "Kansas. A farm near a town called, of all things, 'Smallville'."

"Smallville?"

There's a pause, and then a chuckle.

"This world just gets more and more amusing. Any good landmarks to find you by?"

"Unfortunately not," Barbara sighs. "It's Kansas after all."

If she could see, there would be eyeballs rolling. Well, there are, but they're not particularly audible.

"Oh well. I'll get on it."

"It's the oddest collection of buildings in Kansas if that helps?"

"Does actually. I'll get an aerial shot around Smallville and track you down that way."

She manages to say 'Smallville' without actually laughing, but it's a close thing.

"Let me know when you get here and I'll scrounge up a welcoming committee."

"Will do," she says. "Well, I'd better get looking for you. Over and out."

"See you when you get here," Barbara laughs. "Safe travels."

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