Doctor Who: War Games (9 page)

‘I think we have found the cause, sir.’ The scientist treated the War Chief with great respect and was clearly frightened of him. ‘As a matter of fact, one of the students has been of great help to me. Perhaps he should be transferred to the scientific team.’

‘Really? And which one was that?’ The War Chief ran his eyes over the group.

The scientist pointed. ‘Over there, sir.’

The War Chief’s eyes came to rest on the Doctor. Zoe thought she detected a moment of mutual recognition between the Doctor and the War Chief, as though they had once known each other.

‘Zoe,’ the Doctor breathed urgently. ‘Run—and don’t stop!’

Obediently Zoe got up, turned and ran, the Doctor behind her.

The War Chief called to his guards, ‘Fire!’

The zing of stun-guns rang out. A Samurai knight of ancient Japan was accidentally hit and crashed to the floor.

The Doctor jumped over him. As Zoe reached the double doors she paused, looking to the Doctor to be told which way.

The Doctor called, ‘Just keep going!’

Outside in the corridor a queue of officers from all times in history was waiting to go in for the nextlecture. They surged forward to see what was happening. The Doctor dodged around them to make his escape and to use them as a shield against the guards. As he ran, from the corner of his eye he saw Zoe grabbed and held down.

Lady Jennifer and Jamie lay in the straw, wrists and ankles securely bound.

‘You’re being used,’ Jamie shouted at the Confederate soldiers. ‘Your officer isn’t even an American, he’s a German.’

Von Weich’s thin lips gave the hint of a smile. ‘When you talk nonsense like that, they can’t even hear you.’ He turned to the soldiers, his voice changing instantly to a lazy Southern drawl. ‘Corporal Thomson and Private Travers to stay guarding the prisoners. The rest of you, come with me.’

Even the young soldier Lady Jennifer had tended struggled to his feet.

‘That man is wounded,’ she protested.

‘If he is alive,’ said von Weich, ‘he can fight. I’ll settle with you two later.’ He led the exhausted men out of the barn.

Corporal Thomson and Private Travers settled down to a game of cards. While Thomson dealt, Travers turned to Jamie.

‘You know what we do to Yankee spies? We hang them from the branch of a little old tree!’ He guffawed at the fun of that.

‘I assure you we are not Yankees,’ Lady Jennifer insisted. ‘I’m from England.’

‘You hear that?’ Travers said to his companion. ‘The lady says she’s from New England. That’s up in the North, ain’t it?’

Lady Jennifer became indignant. ‘Why are you being so stupid—’

Her voice was stilled by a hand that came over her mouth. Very close to her ear a man whispered, ‘Not a sound, lady, not a sound.’

Jamie turned to see a Negro in the uniform of the Union Army who had crept towards them through the straw.

Using a sharp knife he was cutting through Lady Jennifer’s bonds.

‘The New England lady’s gone quiet all of a sudden,’

said Private Travers. ‘Somethin’ botherin’ you, ma’am?

Like the prospect of gettin’ yo’self hanged from a little of tree?’ He laughed again, but the laugh died on his face.

Standing in the doorway were three soldiers aiming an assortment of guns at the two Confederates. Two of the soldiers wore the uniform of the British army during the Boer War in 1899; the third was a German private from 1914. One of the Boer War soldiers, a sergeant, stepped forward.

‘We’re not going to kill you,’ he said. ‘But we may set you free.’

The two Confederate soldiers looked at the sergeant with hate. ‘Damned Yankee,’ spat Corporal Thomson.

‘You’ve burnt our homes, mistreated our women folk—’

‘Ve are not Yankees,’ said the German. ‘Ve are resistance fighters!’

‘It’s no use,’ said the Boer War sergeant. ‘These two men are still under the spell. Tie them up before they try to kill us.’

The Negro soldier had cut free both Lady Jennifer and Jamie. Jamie rubbed his wrists. ‘How many resistance fighters are there?’

‘Who knows?’ The Boer War sergeant reached down to help up Lady Jennifer. ‘Sergeant Russell, ma’am. How long since you lost the spell?’

Jamie began to say, ‘As a matter of fact...’

‘Quite recently,’ Lady Jennifer cut in, giving Jamie a look that told him to keep quiet. ‘What are you looking for exactly?’

While the other Boer War soldier tied up the two Confederates, Russell and the Negro had been prodding through the straw with their rifles.

‘The tunnel,’ said Russell.

‘We been watching this barn,’ the Negro explained. ‘We seen all these columns of soldiers marching out,but we ain’t never seen them marching in. Must be a tunnel someplace.’

Despite another look from Lady Jennifer, Jamie tried to make the men understand. ‘It isn’t like that. There’s a box that suddenly appears in the middle full of soldiers. And there are these video things.’

The resistance men stared at him. ‘What’s he talking about?’ said the Boer War private.

‘It’s true,’ said Lady Jennifer. ‘It is much more complicated than you imagine—’

Von Weich stood in the doorway. Behind him were two soldiers holding guns at his back, one Chinese from 1911, the other a young Frenchman from 1917.

‘We find ‘im,’ said the Frenchman. ‘’E is officer—

enemy!’

‘That’s one of them,’ said Jamie. ‘When we first met him he was pretending to be a German.’

Von Weich put on his Deep Southern accent. ‘I don’t know what you all is talkin’ about. What are you Frenchmen and Germans and Britishers doing in America?’

Sergeant Russell went up to him. ‘Where’s the tunnel?’

Von Weich stared into the sergeant’s eyes and spoke in his normal, cold voice. ‘I am your commanding officer.

You will obey me.’

The Negro laughed. ‘Don’t give us any of that stuff, man! We’re through with all that.’

‘Put him over there,’ said the sergeant, indicating one of the stalls. ‘We’ll talk to him later.’

The Chinese and the Frenchman prodded von Weich with their guns. He strode across to one of the stalls.

‘Is this where you intend to murder me?’ he asked, turning to face them all.

‘You just shut your big mouth,’ said the Negro, continuing to prod the straw in search of the tunnel.

Von Weich reached out to one of the saddle pegs. He turned it sharply and planks of wood at the end of the stall slid away to reveal a telecommunications unit.

‘Stop him! ‘Jamie yelled.

But von Weich had already leapt towards the video screen. He activated the ‘on’ button and shouted:

‘Emergency! 1862 time zone. Help needed immediately!’

‘Well,’ said Jamie to the astounded resistance fighters.

‘Now will you believe me?’

The Doctor took his time wandering about the great underground city. At least, he guessed it was underground: he found corridors, offices, communications rooms, even the living quarters of the silvery uniformed guards, but he did not see a single window. No one questioned him. At one point he turned a corner and bumped into a man coming the other way. The man was dressed in the black uniform of those who seemed to be in authority.

‘My dear sir,’ said the Doctor. ‘My apologies.’

The man looked at the Doctor. ‘Who are you?’

‘A German spy,’ the Doctor explained. Then he considered his long frock coat. ‘Franco-Prussian War, 1870.’

The man in black was impressed. ‘Very good. I have only just arrived from the home planet. I thought we all posed as high-ranking officers. No one told me about spies.’

‘I am a high-ranking spy officer,’ the Doctor explained.

‘My under spies are all human specimens.’

The man in black chuckled. ‘Of course. Well, don’t let me delay you.’

The Doctor hurried on. His plan, apart from seeing as much as possible, was to work his way around the big hall where the processing demonstration took place. He wanted to find where Carstairs had been wheeled out from. It took over half an hour of picking his way through the endless corridors, but eventually he found a steel door with a little window. He looked in and saw Carstairs, apparently unconscious, seated in a chair, a cowl over his head. The door was not locked.

The scientist looked up from his processing machine.

‘What are you doing here? There’s a security alarm out for you.’ His hand moved towards an emergency button.

‘Not me,’ said the Doctor. ‘They were after that girl. I tried to catch her but the guards got her first. Has she been killed yet?’ He tried to sound casual.

The scientist shook his head. ‘She’s with Security being questioned.’

‘I see,’ said the Doctor, pretending not to be very interested. ‘And what about this fellow? I would think it a great privilege if I can stand and watch what you’re doing.

In fact, what exactly
are
you doing?’

‘What you suggested. I shall completely de-process him first before the re-processing.’ The scientist, busy making adjustments to the machine’s circuits, glanced at Carstairs.

‘You might help by fixing those clamps to his wrists and ankles.’

‘Indeed I shall. Once completely back to normal, he’s likely to be dangerous, isn’t he?’ The Doctor gave a good impression of binding Carstairs to the chair. ‘There, that should hold him in.’

The scientist switched on the machine. As it hummed pleasantly Carstairs relaxed from his rigid, upright way of sitting. After only a few moments the scientist switched off. ‘He should now be completely de-processed.’

Carstairs shook his head, confused. ‘Where... where am I?’ He looked up. ‘Doctor! ‘

‘He’s not your doctor,’ the scientist said, scornfully. ‘I wonder if this de-processing has really worked.’ The scientist turned to inspect the machine.

‘I think it has,’ said the Doctor. ‘Lieutenant Carstairs is now free in mind and body.’

Carstairs was out of the chair before the scientist realised what had happened. He grabbed the scientist’s arms. ‘What do we do with him, Doctor?’

‘Into the chair, quick.’

Carstairs pushed the scientist into the chair and held him while the Doctor attached the clamps to his wrists and ankles. ‘And now, sir, you are going to tell me where my young friend is being questioned.’

‘I shall tell you nothing!’

The Doctor brought the cowl down over the scientist’s head. ‘You are in your normal mental state. What if I turned on this machine now that it is set to de-processing?’

The scientist cowered back in the chair. ‘I... I shall become an idiot. But you wouldn’t! You couldn’t!’

‘I don’t wish to destroy an intelligence,’ said the Doctor,

‘even yours. But my friend’s safety comes first. You have two seconds to save your own mind.’ His fingers touched the ‘on’ control.

‘Turn left,’ said the scientist. ‘Second corridor on the left. You’ll find a black door.’

The Doctor reached into his pockets and brought out bandages with which he gagged the scientist. He put out the lights in the room so that anyone looking through the window in the door would not see what had happened..

Then he opened the door and stepped into the corridor, followed by Carstairs.

‘Let us stroll gently,’ the Doctor suggested. ‘We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.’

During their gentle stroll the Doctor explained everything he knew to Carstairs. Carstairs’s memory was still vague as to how and when he was abducted from his own world and brought to this one, but he could remember everything from the time he met the Doctor.

‘A black door,’ said the Doctor, pointing. ‘Our friend told the truth.’

‘How shall we rescue Zoe?’ Carstairs asked.

‘I have no idea,’ the Doctor answered honestly. ‘But let’s start by opening this door.’

He yanked open the black door and stepped inside. A guard whirled around, levelling a stun-gun. Zoe was slumped in a chair.

‘Get out of here,’ the guard shouted.

The Doctor ignored him. He walked straight across the room to Zoe. ‘My dear, what have they done to you?’

The guard turned around to keep his stun-gun trained on the Doctor. ‘I think you’re the man we’re looking for...’

His words ended there. Carstairs had stepped in behind him. He brought the butt of his service revolver sharply across the back of the guard’s neck, just below his helmet.

The guard fell.

‘They questioned me,’ Zoe moaned, head in hands.

‘They used that.’ She pointed to a pair of giant earphones.

‘I saw pictures of... of the resistance. They think I’m a member. They wanted me to identify people...’

While Zoe talked the Doctor tried on the earphones. He activated the little machine to which they were connected and instantly began to see mental images of faces—a soldier in Turkish uniform, a British Boer War sergeant from 1899, a British private of 1917. He switched off.

‘Fascinating little gadget,’ he said. ‘So at least we know there is a resistance organisation.’

‘How can there be,’ said Carstairs, ‘if all the soldiers are under the thumb of these bounders?’

‘The effect of the process sometimes wears off, as it did with you and Lady Jennifer.’ The Doctor turned back to Zoe. ‘Can you remember all the faces you saw?’

‘Of course,’ she said confidently.

‘Then we must return to the time zones and organise these people into one huge resistance army.’

‘And how,’ said Carstairs, ‘do we get back there?’

‘Same way as we came,’ said the Doctor. ‘Follow me.

We’ve played hide and seek so far. Let’s hope our luck holds.’

‘You will all be recaptured now,’ von Weich said calmly.

Jamie admired the man’s nerve. ‘Something is about to happen beyond your understanding. Before you can regain your wits, you will be our prisoners. Then we shall deal with your minds and you will forget everything.’

Some of the resistance fighters were still so impressed by the telecommunications unit that they looked inclined to believe him.

‘It’s like a picture in a frame,’ said the Negro. ‘Only it ain’t no picture.’

‘A device invented long after your time,’ said von Weich. ‘Any moment now you will be even more puzzled.’