Doctor Who: War Games (15 page)

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Authors: Malcolm Hulke

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BOOK: Doctor Who: War Games
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‘Take him, too,’ the Security Chief said.

A security guard moved in on the Doctor, stun-gun raised.

‘No,’ protested the War Chief. ‘He is working for us now.’

‘He’s done his job,’ objected the Security Chief. ‘He’s no further use.’

‘He has great knowledge of time travel mechanics, Security Chief.’ The War Chief’s voice was firm. ‘He is now my personal assistant.’

The Security Chief wavered. ‘The War Lord shall decide his fate.’ He swung round to his guards. ‘Get these prisoners to the processing room. If any try to escape, shoot to kill.’ He turned back to the War Chief. ‘I shall speak with the War Lord now about this special prisoner of yours.’ He stalked off down the corridor.

The Doctor waited until the disarmed prisoners had been herded away before saying, ‘Why do you so obviously need me?’

‘We surely need each other,’ said the War Chief.

‘It’s something to do with your travel machines, isn’t it?’

‘How intelligent of you,’ said the War Chief. ‘The sidrats that I designed for the War Lords have a limited life. The green crystal, which is the basis of our time control units, is unobtainable anywhere in the galaxy except on our planet of the Time Lords. For these sidrats I have had to use other materials. In time they will all wear out.’

‘Now I understand,’ said the Doctor. ‘It’s my TARDIS

that you want. But surely you have one of your own?’

The War Chief smiled. ‘No more mine than yours is really yours! We are both thieves, Doctor. Yes, I do have a TARDIS hidden away. But are not two better than one?

While I rest and enjoy the spoils of victory, you can patrol our empire. And I shall do the same for you.’


Our
empire?’

‘We shall rule the galaxy without fear of opposition,’ the War Chief said confidently. ‘For we shall be the only two who can travel through both space and time.’

A voice spoke from concealed loudspeakers. ‘
War Chief
and his prisoner to report to the War Lord immediately!

‘No doubt my dear friend the Security Chief stirring up trouble,’ said the War Chief. ‘Shall we, go? It wouldn’t do to keep the War Lord waiting.’

 

‘You have done well,’ said the War Lord. ‘Yet your sudden decision to join us worries me.’

The Security Chief nodded smugly. ‘Exactly my point, sir.’

 

‘I have heard your side of the argument,’ said the War Lord. ‘Now let me hear theirs.’ He looked to the Doctor to answer.

‘I like to be on the winning side,’ said the Doctor. ‘The resistance has no chance against your might and power.’

The War Lord looked pleased by the compliment. ‘Like your friend, the War Chief, you have a silver tongue. But now that we have the resistance leaders in our hands, what contribution can you make?’

‘I could make your processing machines work effectively. Ask your scientist.’

‘He is on our home planet,’ said the War Lord,

‘producing a new and better machine.’

‘Given the chance,’ said the Doctor, ‘I can make the old one work with a hundred per cent success.’

The War Lord considered. ‘You will have the opportunity to prove your skill. You will adjust the existing machines and re-process your resistance friends.’

‘They are losers,’ said the Doctor. ‘They are no friends of mine!’

‘Of course,’ said the War Lord. He turned to the Security Chief. ‘Take him to the processing room and give him every facility.’

The Doctor was alarmed at the prospect of being in the Security Chief’s care. ‘But, sir—’

‘Have no fear,’ said the War Lord. ‘The Security Chief will carry out my orders and give you all the protection you need.’ He gave a signal for the Security Chief and the Doctor to depart.

‘Now,’ said the War Lord to the War Chief. ‘These resistance groups. What is the position?’

The War Chief pointed to the war map. ‘They are all in this one area. I have ordered our human specimens to move in on them.’

‘To capture or to kill?’ asked the War Lord.

 

‘To capture if possible,’ replied the War Chief. ‘Once re-processed we have good fighting men there for our eventual conquest of the galaxy.’

‘Good, good,’ said the War Lord. ‘Let us never lose sight of the eventual aim. As soon as that’s done we need all security guards returned to this base. All communications units are to be repaired or replaced and the war games are to continue.’ The War Lord rose. ‘I shall retire to my chamber now. Very soon we must start selecting the survivors of our games, War Chief. We must put them into storage for the great mission of galactic conquest that is to come!’

 

The prisoners stood waiting in the processing room, surrounded by silver-uniformed guards.

‘They will shoot us,’ said Villar. ‘What else you do with prisoners, huh?’

‘No,’ said Lieutenant Carstairs. ‘they will re-process us and send us back to fight their wars. Still, I suppose that comes to the same thing. The average length of life of a British officer at the front line is only three weeks.’

‘Sir,’ said Sergeant Russell, quietly, ‘shouldn’t we be trying to break out of here?’

Carstairs looked at the armed guards. ‘With that lot on top of us?’ He turned to Jamie. ‘You’ve always seemed a decent young fellow. Who is this Doctor really?’

Jamie was at a loss to answer. ‘He’s... well, he can travel through time and space. I don’t really know.’

Zoe said, ‘I don’t like the way he seems to know that War Chief. It’s as though they had some bond—’

The door opened. The Security Chief pushed the Doctor into the room. ‘Let’s see what you can do with these prisoners, Doctor. Prove what you promised to the War Lord.’

The Doctor was hesitant. ‘I shall do my best.’

 

‘Good,’ said the Security Chief. ‘Unfortunately, I cannot spare all these guards to protect you from your friends. You will have to fend for yourself. Guards—outside!’

The half dozen security guards left the room. The Security Chief remained at the door. ‘Turn them all into docile specimens for our war games, Doctor. I shall return later—much later.’ He stepped out of the room and closed the door.

The Doctor swung round to open the door. It was locked. He turned to the prisoners, his back to the door.

‘There are certain things you should understand,’ he started to say.

‘We understand,’ said Arturo Villar. ‘First I kill you with my bare hands, then I listen.’

Villar lunged at the Doctor, hands reaching for his neck.

Jamie made a cross tackle, pushing Villar away, while Zoe took up a position in front of the trapped Doctor.

‘You want I should kill you first?’ thundered Villar. He laughed unpleasantly. ‘I never kill a man before wearing a skirt!’

‘I don’t think, anyone should kill anyone,’ said Carstairs. ‘But Doctor, I think you owe us an explanation.’

‘Thank you,’ said the Doctor. ‘I am trying to save your lives. They were going to use the neutron bomb, and that would have killed every human on this planet. This way we still have a chance. If you do exactly as I say, you will come to no harm.’

Villar thrust Jamie aside. ‘We don’t listen to no more lies! We execute the traitor!’

Pushing Zoe out of his way, Villar successfully grabbed at the Doctor’s throat. Zoe rained blows onto Villar’s back that he did not seem to notice. Jamie tugged at his arms.

‘This is plain murder,’ stormed Lieutenant Carstairs.

He appealed to the resistance leaders. ‘Help me stop this madman.’

Sergeant Russell shook his head. ‘No, sir. This is justice—’

 

The door flung open. Two armed guards entered with the War Chief.

‘Stop!’ he roared. He nodded to one of the guards who prodded Villar away from the Doctor with a stun-gun. ‘I apologise, Doctor, for this misunderstanding.’

‘It was almost fatal.’ The Doctor straightened his clothes, ruffled by Villar’s manhandling. ‘Perhaps now I may proceed with my contribution to the success of your plans.’

‘Our plans,’ said the War Chief. ‘You’re one of us now.’

 

Jamie was the first to be processed.

‘You’re quite sure,’ asked the War Chief, ‘that with your adjustments to the machine the process will be total?’

‘The basic principles of your process were sound,’ said the Doctor, busying himself with controls on the humming machine, ‘but there were certain defects in the application.

I happen to know more about the working of the human mind than your scientist.’ He checked the dials again and then turned the machine off. The humming stopped. ‘This young man should now believe himself to be fighting English redcoats in 1745 Earth time.’ He raised his voice to address Jamie. ‘What is your name?’

‘James Robert Macrimon. But you know...’

‘And where are you?’ the Doctor cut in.

‘I...’

‘You are in my castle,’ said the Doctor. ‘I am the Macrimon of Macrimon, your hereditary chieftain.’

Jamie looked up at the Doctor rather dubiously. ‘Aye, that’s right. Who’s that?’ He pointed to the War Chief.

‘A friendly chieftain. You will obey his orders as you would mine.’ The Doctor indicated Zoe, Carstairs and the resistance leaders, whom the War Chief’s guards had lined up to await processing. ‘Those are members of our clan.’

Jamie tried to rise up, an accusing finger directed at Carstairs. ‘He’s an Englishman! A redcoat!’

 

Unseen by the War Chief, the Doctor kicked Jamie’s ankle. ‘Kidnapped by the English, brought up to speak in the Sassenach way, but by blood a true Highlander.’

Jamie subsided. ‘That’s all right then.’

‘Excellent,’ said the War Chief. ‘Continue with the others. If you can process characters like these you will have made an immense contribution. I shall go to tell the War Lord of your success.’

‘You will leave some of your guards here?’ asked the Doctor, nervously.

‘Have no fear, Doctor. This time you will be protected.’

The War Chief left the processing room.

‘You are next,’ said the Doctor, pointing at Zoe. ‘Take your place in the machine.’

Since Zoe did not respond instantly, a guard grabbed her arm and yanked her forward.

‘You’ve no right to do this,’ she screamed. ‘Leave me alone!’

‘It’s for your own good,’ said the Doctor. ‘You must obey my orders completely.’

Behind the guard’s back, the Doctor winked.

 

The War Chief entered the war room.

‘Is the War Lord here?’ he asked.

The Security Chief turned from the telecommunications console. ‘Guards to position,’ he ordered.

Security guards closed in behind the War Chief.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ he demanded. ‘A joke?’

‘Listen,’ said the Security Chief. He activated a small control on the console. The war room was filled with a recording of the Doctor’s voice.


And help people like your new friends to conquer the galaxy?

Never!

It was followed by the War Chief’s response.


Not people like that, Doctor, People like us. I intend to
become the supreme ruler. Would you not like to share power
with me?

 

‘I had your private office wired up,’ said the Security Chief. ‘Your entire conversation with your accomplice is on record, which I intend to play to the War Lord.’

The War Chief tried to say, ‘I am your superior—’

‘No more! You are not of our people. You have never had true loyalty to our cause! Guards, take this traitor to the security room. Collect the Doctor on the way. If they resist, kill them both.’

The guards closed in on the War Chief. One of them took his personal stun-gun.

 

The resistance leaders stood in line, eyes glazed like zombies.

‘The last one,’ the Doctor said to the security guards.

‘Put him to the machine.’

A guard prodded Arturo Villar.

‘For this I kill you, slowly,’ Villar threatened. ‘You do things to my mind, I do things to your throat.’

‘You will feel nothing,’ the Doctor explained. ‘But if you do not co-operate like the others have done, the guard will shoot you dead.’

Villar looked down at the stun-gun pointing at his side.

‘What can I do? I am defenceless.’ He sat down.

The Doctor attached the helmet and made the necessary adjustments. Then he turned on the machine. It hummed loudly for ten seconds. He turned the control to ‘off’.

‘There,’ he said. ‘You are in La Castille de la Cruz de San Antonio, in Mexico.’

Villar looked round. ‘Are you crazy? I am here in this room with all these people you make into imbeciles.’ He rose up. ‘Your machine is no good. Arturo Villar is too strong for you!’

He made a mighty lunge at the Doctor, hands open to take the Doctor’s throat. The two guards left by the War Chief rushed forwards to grab Villar, turning their backs on the resistance leaders. It was the moment they had been waiting for.

 

‘Now!’ shouted Lieutenant Carstairs.

The group moved as one man to overpower the guards.

They had no time to turn their stun-guns onto their attackers. The guards fell under a hail of blows from all sides. Ignoring what was happening, the single-minded Villar had the Doctor by the throat and was trying to strangle him.

‘Help,’ screamed the Doctor, trying to make his voice heard over the hubbub.

Jamie and Sergeant Russell pounced on Villar’s back, dragging him from the Doctor.

‘You great loon,’ said Jamie. ‘Couldn’t you pretend like the rest of us?’

Villar looked around and then down at the fallen security guards. ‘Is all a trick? The Doctor fix the machine so she doesn’t work?’

‘Yes,’ said the Doctor, trying to get his breath. ‘I fix the machine.’

Zoe had gone to the door to look out. She signalled frantically to the group. ‘That War Chief and two guards are coming!’

‘Everybody back as they were,’ said Carstairs. To Villar and Sergeant Russell he added, ‘Except you two. Cover the door.’

All the resistance leaders, with Jamie and Zoe, lined up as they had been before, affecting the vacant expressions of processed human specimens. The doctor returned to the machine and pretended to be concentrating on making a minor adjustment.

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