Doctor Who_ Island of Death - Barry Letts [110]
Sarah, with such a relief coursing through her body that she felt as euphoric as she had when they first encountered the blue mist, watched the Doctor as he pressed another button on the silver box in his hand.
The music stopped; and the Doctor sat down on the rocky floor. He looked tired. Very, very tired.
‘I think I must be getting old,’ said the Doctor.
Sarah glanced round the wardroom. How surprised they’d all be if she told them just how old he was.
There had been no time for asking questions; there was too much to do. Quite apart from the sixteen traumatised members of the faithful in the temple, the others outside had suddenly found that their paradise had disappeared and turned into an uncomfortable hell.
Pete Andrews and the Cox’n returned to the ship with a few of the men, to relieve Chris of his temporary command and bring the Hallaton back into the lagoon. If they’d left it much later, they would have missed the tide completely.
The others turned nursemaid, and shepherded the flock of bewildered youngsters back to their village, which they found somewhat less comfortable than when they had left it. But most importantly, apart from their being assured that a ship would be coming to fetch them home - and sending the necessary signal was one of the first things that the CO had done as soon as he was back on board - most importantly, they were told the truth about what had happened to them.
Except, of course, for an explanation of what the Doctor had done to save their lives, because nobody knew what it was.
Now he was going to tell them.
‘That’s the second time I’ve played brinkmanship in as many weeks,’ he went on. ‘It’s not a game I enjoy.’
The Brigadier seemed a bit sniffy, thought Sarah. Nothing that a few drams wouldn’t fix though. Pete Andrews had already poured him a whopper, and left the bottle near him.
The Doctor was enjoying teasing them.
‘Come on, Doctor,’ she said. ‘Be a sport.’
‘Now, Sarah,’ said the Doctor, ‘I’m sure you could give us the answer if you really thought about it.’
‘Well,’ she said, ‘it was obviously something to do with the TARDIS circuit thing. And I’d guess it was a time loop.’
Bob Simkins looked up from the rum and peppermint that he was mixing for the Cox’n, who’d been invited to join them.
‘Sorry love,’ he said, ‘but I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.’
‘Oh, I know that,’ said Chris. A time loop...’
‘Pipe down, Chris,’ said Pete. Go on Doctor. Tell us.’
The Doctor thought for a moment. ‘Not just one time loop. I set the temporal recursion circuit to operate recursively itself, so that it generated thousands of random time loops. That’s why it took me so long. I had to get the dimensional co-ordinates exactly right. And I had to do most of it behind my back in case they saw me.’
‘Each time one of the elements that made up the Great Skang was hit, it was catapulted back to an earlier time in its existence; and there it’ll stay, quite happily going round and round forever, without realising it. But, you see, they’ve all been sent to a different bit of their past. So that particular Great Skang can never be a danger again.’
‘And the human Skang the same?’
‘Of course. Why should they be any different? Their bodies were well over fifty per cent psionic energy deriving from their parent colony, the Great Skang. When that was withdrawn, there was nothing left but a few organic chemicals.’
The Brigadier poured himself another burra peg. ‘Hmm.
Well, Doctor, all’s well that ends well, I suppose. Sounds a bit complicated to me. If you’d given me a few more minutes, I’d have dropped a hand grenade on the thing.’
‘Ah,’ said the Doctor, ‘that would have been an interesting experiment.’
The Brig grunted. ‘Much quicker. And I’d certainly have enjoyed doing it.’
‘I’m sure you would, my dear fellow. If the only answer had been to destroy it - or should I say them? - I’d have done it too, if I could. But I’m glad I was able to do it my way. I gave them the respect