Doctor Who: The Invasion (3 page)

Zoe wrinkled her nose uninterestedly. 'I think I'll stay here,' she said, twirling the boa seductively in the Doctor's face. 'This is jolly good fun.'

The Doctor nodded in reluctant agreement and asked Isobel if she knew the address of International Electromatix.

'Oh, that's scribbled up on the wall somewhere too,' she giggled.

'Och, don't ye ever write anything down on paper?' Jamie exclaimed as the Doctor shuffled out.

'I'd only lose it if I did. The wall's safer,' Isobel explained.

'Can't lose a wall, can you!'

The two girls howled in mutual appreciation of the joke.

Glowering humourlessly, Jamie trudged out after the Doctor.

The headquarters of International Electromatix turned out to be a tall slim tower of steel and glass surrounded by lower buildings, all faced with identical rows of reflective coppertint windows, situated in the City. Jamie and the Doctor paused to examine the huge bronze plaque above the entrance, with its symbolic zig-zag spark gripped in a giant fist, before marching resolutely through the automatic glass doors and into the deserted circular foyer.

Unknown to them, two men crouched on the flat roof of an anonymous office block opposite were observing them intently - one through powerful binoculars, the other through the viewfinder of a polaroid camera. They wore drab suits with narrow dark ties and both had short military haircuts. The larger man with the binoculars spoke tersely into a compact walkie-talkie.

'They're just going inside now... Tracey's getting them on film.'

The smaller man ripped the film out of the camera and hugged it under his arm to speed up the developing process.

The big man listened to his radio. 'Roger, sir. Benton out,' he said, switching off. Ducking below the parapet he crawled across to Tracey and examined the photograph. 'HQ want those two Top Priority,' he said. 'We pick them up as soon as they come out.'

Tracey uttered a curt laugh. '
If
they come out,' he grunted.

The Doctor glanced contemptuously at the plastic chairs arranged facing a semicircle of small computer terminals in the middle of the glass foyer. 'I suppose this is Reception,' he muttered distastefully, sitting in front of a terminal which had lit up expectantly as they entered.

'International Electromatix. State your business,' rapped the machine.

'I wish to see Professor Watkins,' stated the Doctor.

'One moment...'

Behind a perspex screen above the terminals, tape spools jerked spasmodically back and forth.

'Party not available. Good day,' the machine announced at last.

The Doctor squirmed with suppressed indignation. 'Then I wish to see someone in authority,' he retorted.

'Key in identity. Request will be considered and appointment arranged.'

'That's no good,' insisted the Doctor, 'I wish to see someone now.'

'All personnel engaged.'

The Doctor's normally sallow features flushed with outrage. 'I insist,' he shouted. 'This is an emergency.'

'Inform exact nature of emergency,' instructed the mechanical receptionist, its spools spinning busily.

'It is a personal matter.'

There was a brief pause. 'Personal matters merit no emergency status,' the grating voice announced. 'Key in identity and...'

The Doctor's nimble fingers played a frenzied sequence of random keys on the keyboard. 'There. Work that out!' he snapped, leaping out of the chair. He strode over to the gleaming chromium-plated doors leading into the building itself and Jamie scampered nervously after him.

High above them in the penthouse suite of offices at the top of the tower, two men stood in a spacious clinical room watching the two intruders on a bank of circular closed-circuit video monitors. The combination of swept-back silver hair and thick black eyebrows gave the older man a disturbing appearance. His right eye was permanently half-closed, but his left gazed wide open with chilling pale blue iris and huge black pupil. His clothes were coldly elegant: a plain suit with collarless jacket, round-necked shirt and gleaming black shoes with chrome buckles. Head tilted slightly back, he watched the multiple images of the Doctor and Jamie as if they were specimens under a microscope.

'Do you recognise them, Packer?' he murmured in a leisurely cultured voice.

Packer, dressed in black security personnel outfit minus the helmet and visor, shook his head. 'No, Mr Vaughn.' His small black eyes gleamed with sadistic alertness, but his pale waxy face tapered to a weak receding jaw. His voice was thin and devious.

Vaughn sat down in a large padded swivel chair facing the vast semicircular chrome desk. Behind him the grey panorama of London stretched beyond the wide curving window through half-open vertical louvres. Reaching forward, he selected new pictures as Jamie and the Doctor walked down a long starkly-lit corridor, peering suspiciously around them. 'Most intriguing,' Vaughn murmured calmly, reclining his chair and staring impassively at the bank of monitors on the wall opposite. 'Deal with them, Packer.'

The Doctor was cautiously leading the way along the silent deserted corridor when, all at once, a glass wall slid across their path.

Before they could even turn round a second panel glided across behind them, trapping them like fish in an aquarium. A sinister hissing issued from narrow vents near the ceiling and within a few seconds the Doctor and Jamie were overcome by a soporific gas.

They sank to the floor, their fingers squeaking eerily against the glass barrier.

A few minutes later, Packer arrived accompanied by two armed subordinates. He inserted a special key into the wall and the glass shutters silently withdrew. With cold detachment Packer turned Jamie's motionless body over with his steel toecapped boot.

Suddenly Jamie grabbed Packer's foot and twisted it viciously sideways. Yelping with pain and shock, Packer pitched spreadeagled on the floor. But before the dazed young Scot could follow up his attack, the two guards each grabbed an ear and yanked Jamie to his knees.

Packer struggled to his feet and gazed down at Jamie, beads of sweat breaking out all over his waxy white face. 'Wait!' he whined, balancing himself to kick his assailant in the face. 'This is going to be a pleasure...'

At that moment, Vaughn's velvet tones filled the corridor from concealed speakers. 'Packer, where are your manners? Escort our visitors to my office immediately.'

Packer froze, like a child caught stealing sweets. 'But I haven't interrogated them yet,' he pleaded, as the Doctor stirred and sat up groggily.

At once, Packer,' Vaughn purred insistently.

Jamie helped the Doctor up, staring at Packer with defiant contempt as he dutifully motioned to the guards to take them up to his master.

2

Vaughn rose to greet the Doctor and Jamie as they were shown into his penthouse office. 'Please be seated, gentlemen,' he beamed courteously. 'Thank you, Packer,' he added coldly. His deputy lingered on the threshold until a dismissive gesture finally sent him resentfully outside.

The Doctor's keen eye quickly took in the artificial potted plants, the self-adjusting suspended light fittings and the comprehensive array of facilities ranged at Vaughn's fingertips. 'I knew there must be a human being in here somewhere,' he grinned, sitting down.

Vaughn bowed. 'I apologise for my staff's over-zealous behaviour but your arrival was a trifle unconventional.'

Jamie's hackles rose. 'Maybe, but there was no need to...'

The Doctor interrupted tactfully. 'I think perhaps we are the ones who should apologise, Mister...'

'Vaughn... Tobias Vaughn... Director of International Electromatix. I must say your business with Professor Watkins must be very urgent to force you to such extremes.'

Jamie sat up in astonishment. 'Hey, how did ye ken we were wanting the Professor?'

Vaughn gestured with well manicured hands towards his enormous desk. 'My computer reports everything directly to me,' he smiled.

'Everything?' the Doctor echoed innocently.

Vaughn nodded. 'But I regret that your visit has been wasted.

Professor Watkins is engaged on a new project and he refuses to see anyone,' he said sadly.

The Doctor looked crestfallen.

'Perhaps I can help?' Vaughn suggested brightly.

Jamie nudged his silent friend. 'Och, it's only a couple of dud circuits, Doctor, surely a place like this could...' He trailed into silence as the Doctor glanced at him warningly.

Vaughn leaned forward eagerly. 'Circuits? Electronics?' he purred. 'My technicians are the best in the world. I am sure they could assist you, gentlemen.'

The Doctor shook his head. 'Thank you, Mr Vaughn, but the circuits are... are most complex.'

Vaughn gestured expansively. 'Complexity is our speciality,'

he insisted, holding out his hands. 'At least let us try.'

The Doctor hesitated, glancing reproachfully at Jamie.

Eventually he reluctantly handed over the two small panels he had removed from the TARDIS earlier. Vaughn seized them eagerly and examined them, his left eye narrowing to match the right. The Doctor noted the momentary shadow of astonishment that passed over his face.

But Vaughn swiftly recovered his composure. 'As you say, a trifle complex. But I am convinced we can help. I'll have them sent to our Diagnostic Unit at once,' he proposed generously.

The Doctor smiled weakly. 'You're extremely kind,' he muttered.

'Not at all. Any friend of Professor Watkins...' Vaughn paused, as though he were disturbed by the two silicon panels in front of him.

Quickly he opened a drawer, took out a tiny miniaturised radio and offered it to Jamie. 'Do you have one of these, young man?' he asked.

Jamie looked blank. 'Och no, sir. What is it?'

Vaughn looked surprised. 'Disposable transistor radios. A market leader. Surely you've seen them? We've sold ten million in the UK alone. Modest compensation for Packer's excesses, I trust?'

'Most generous,' said the Doctor, prompting Jamie to accept.

Jamie took the radio and fiddled with it. Suddenly a raucous pop tune blared forth. 'So that's how it goes!' he grinned.

Wincing at the din, the Doctor leaned across and switched it off. 'And that's how it stops, Jamie,' he advised firmly.

Vaughn rose regretfully. 'If you'll excuse me I have an urgent meeting,' he declared. 'Mr Packer will show you out.'

The Doctor jabbed his elbow in Jamie's ribs and they stood up.

'Thank you so much, Mr Vaughn,' he burbled.

'Telephone in a day or two. We should have some news then,'

Vaughn proposed as they shook hands cordially at the door. 'And may I ask whom I have had the pleasure...?'

'Not Whom... Who...' the Doctor quipped slyly.

Packer took them down in the express lift and showed them out through a side entrance off a quiet cul de sac. 'Next time read the instructions at Reception,' he snarled.

'Och, so ye can read, can ye?' Jamie exclaimed in mock surprise. 'And what other tricks can ye do?'

The Doctor firmly steered his rash young friend into the narrow street as Packer slammed the steel emergency door behind them.

'Friendly sort of chap, Mr Vaughn,' Jamie remarked, flourishing the miniature radio.

'Not what he seems,' the Doctor snapped unhappily. 'The normal human blinks naturally about once every fifteen seconds.

Vaughn averaged less than one a minute.'

'Aye, and he's got horns and a forked tail too.'

'No, I'm serious, Jamie,' the Doctor warned as they walked towards the main street. 'Vaughn didn't even ask me what was wrong with those circuits or what they do. Beneath all that charm there's something... something not quite human.'

The next moment a large Jaguar saloon raced down the side street behind them and skidded up onto the pavement, trapping them against the wall of the IE Building. While Tracey remained at the wheel gunning the engine, Benton and another man leaped out and manhandled them into the back before they could even protest. Then Tracey accelerated away with spinning wheels and smoking tyres.

Jammed between the two bulky figures, the shocked and bewildered captives exchanged frightened glances.

Eventually the Doctor turned to Benton. 'And I suppose this is Mr Vaughn's courtesy car service?' he commented, with an acid smile.

As soon as his unexpected visitors had departed, Vaughn picked up the two silicon panels the Doctor had left on his desk and studied them carefully, a deep furrow forming between his eyebrows as he tried to unravel the curious structure of the circuitry. Eventually he looked up at the blank wall facing the panoramic window and a strange smile spread gradually across his lopsided features. He put down the panels and took an elaborate fountain pen from his breast pocket. Slowly he rose to his feet. He twisted the gold-plated cap of the pen and with a series of soft clicks and a subdued whirring sound the blank wall parted and slid aside.

Vaughn waited, gazing into the darkness beyond. Soon an oscillating hum began to rise and a fluorescent light started to pulsate in sequence with it. The air started to crackle with a dry electric charge as a fantastic structure appeared in the dark alcove. Standing about two metres high, it resembled a gigantic radio valve. Bristling electrodes sprouted from a revolving central crystal suspended within a delicate cage of sparking, fizzing filaments. Cathode tubes were arranged like a belt of glass ammunition around the base of the cage and the whole sparkling mechanism was supported in a lattice of shimmering wires and tubes. The planes of the crystal flickered with millions of tiny points of intense blue light and the apparatus possessed a sinister beauty as it hovered in the darkness.

Vaughn touched some buttons on his desk and the bank of nine circular screens flashed into life showing video replays of the Doctor and Jamie at their recent gate-crashing exploits. Immediately the machine in the alcove began to whirr and spark with increased excitement. Vaughn watched and waited, smiling expectantly.