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'Osgood!'

'Yessir?' replied his technical Sergeant, who was in charge of all the complicated electronic equipment carried in the Mobile H.Q.

'Anything from Strike Command yet?'

'Not yet, sir.'

'Mm. Very good.' The Brigadier stepped down from the van and raised his binoculars, and stared across the invisible barrier. That must be the church. Looked peaceful enough. He lowered the glasses and pulled out his walkie-talkie.

' Greyhound Two. Over. '

' That you, Yates? Now listen. We're going to blast our way in. I'm in touch with the Artillery and R.A.P. Strike Command. You'd better get everybody evacuated to the cellars. Report when the operation's complete. Right? Over. '

Instead of the formal 'Wilco' from Yates which the Brigadier expected, there was a scuffling noise, followed by the Doctor's voice.

' Lethbridge Stewart, you'll do no such thing! Of all the idiotic plans. In the first place, the energy released could only strengthen the barrier. In the second place, you could provoke the most terrible reprisals; and in the third place, I have a better idea. Over. '

The familiar feeling of frustration the Brigadier so often experienced when dealing with the Doctor began to creep over him. ' Well, what is it? ' he snapped. ' I'm not going to stand here like a spare lemon waiting for the squeezer. Do you hear? Over. '

' Have you got the Mobile H.Q. there? '

' Of course. '

' With the new Mark IV A condenser unit? '

' Hang on. ' The Brigadier turned towards the van. 'Osgood!' he bellowed.

Osgood's worried face appeared at the door.

'Have we got a... a Mark IV A condenser unit? It's new apparently.'

'Yessir. Installed last week.'

'Good. Don't go away, Sergeant. Yes, Doctor we have. Over. '

' Excellent, ' replied the Doctor, ' then I can solve your problem—and maybe ours into the bargain. We'll build a diathermic energy exchanger. Is your technical fellow there? '

' He's listening. '

' Right then. Tell him to build an E.H.F. wide-band-width-variable-phase-oscillator with a negative-feedback circuit, turnable to the frequency of an air-molecule at... what IS the temperature of the barrier, Brigadier? '

The Brigadier looked enquiringly at Sergeant Osgood, who, looking more worried than ever, shrugged helplessly.

' I'm sorry, Doctor, ' said the Brigadier, ' we've no idea what you're talking about. Over. '

' It's a simple enough question, I should have thought. How hot's the barrier? Over. '

' No, no, no, what you said earlier. The oscillating feedback bit... '

The irritation in the Doctor's voice was quite clear even through the distortion of the tiny speaker. ' Oh, very well, ' he said, ' I'll have to come out and explain. Don't do anything until I get there. Understand? '

The Brigadier sighed. ' All right, Doctor, we'll try it your way. But get a move on, will you? '

' I'll be there in ten minutes. '

' Make it five. Out. '

The Doctor handed the walkie-talkie back to Mike and picked up his cloak.

'Of all the idiotic plans,' said Jo, 'as if blowing things up solves anything.'

The Doctor looked at her severely. 'The Brigadier,' he said, 'is doing his best to cope with an almost impossible situation. And since he is your superior officer, you might show him a little respect. Are you coming?' and he swept out. A slightly rebellious, but definitely subdued Jo Grant followed him.

'Are you sure there's nothing else I can get for you,' said Bert.

'Er... no, no thanks; said Sergeant Benton.

Bert carried the loaded tray back to the kitchen and hurried straight to the telephone.

'Right, okay, got that,' said Tom Wilkins, slammed down the 'phone and hurried out of the study.

By using every ounce of practised charm, every trick of the demagogue, the Master had at last got the audience on his side. 'Fools! Rabble!' he thought to himself, 'that I, the Master, should demean myself so.' But then, the thought came again a happy slave is an efficient slave. Of course he could compel them to follow, but how much better for the sheep to run into the pen of their own accord.