New Eart– no. And no more questions. Sasha had a feeling he didn't want to know the answer.

"In a minute, maybe," he replied, straying a few paces away from the TARDIS to look around. As he walked, his cigarette and lighter floated up from out of his coat pocket; once lit, the cigarette rose up to meet his mouth. Only at that point did Sasha bother to put in the effort of lifting a hand to hold it.

Getting a better view of the island could wait. First, he needed a smoke. Badly.