Doctor Who_ Island of Death - Barry Letts [27]
„From what city are you coming, Doctor?‟ said the Major, as they bumped over the potholes. „I have had a training secondment in your beautiful country some years ago, and went swanning the length and breadth of it.‟
„Oh, I‟ve lived in so many different places,‟ replied the Doctor, „I‟ve lost count.‟
„Indeed? I gather that Brigadier-General Lethbridge-Stewart is Scotch born - oh, pardon me, Scottish!‟
The man was just showing off his English! the Brigadier thought. „Just plain Brigadier, Chatterjee. Not a general...‟
„Yet...‟ he added under his breath.
Swerving to avoid a skinny cow, they swung round the corner and arrived outside the main entrance to the ashram.
„Gracious me!‟ said the Major.
The gate was wide open, and nobody was there to greet them or, for that matter, to hinder them. They drove straight in.
Not a soul.
They pulled up in the square outside the main block, which housed the offices, the canteen and so on. There was no sign of life save the sound of a bird that sounded like a half-hearted curlew. Even the fountain in the middle of the square was silenced.
„This is absurd,‟ said the Brigadier, climbing out.
„I should have foreseen this,‟ said the Doctor behind him.
„Maybe you were right, Lethbridge-Stewart. I would appear to have frightened them off myself.‟
Major Chatterjee joined them. „We must make all haste to the docks. These naughty people must not be evading our grasp.‟
„One moment,‟ said the Brigadier, walking over to the open door. „Is anybody there?‟ he called into the building.
No response.
„Let‟s go,‟ he said with abrupt decision, striding over to the Land Rover.
„Wait!‟ The Doctor held up his hand. „What‟s that?‟
They all froze.
No wonder they‟d missed it, thought Lethbridge-Stewart.
The faintest possible knocking - somebody hammering on a distant door, perhaps - and, yes, the ghost of a voice...
„He-e-elp! Help me! Let me out...!‟
Sarah couldn‟t make up her mind. As she rode through the racket of the city centre and out to the comparative peace of the dockside (in a three-wheeler this time, like a motor bike inside a mini-taxi), she was contemplating her possible future with the adrenalin rush she always felt when she was about to dive into the deep end.
These people would stop at nothing, the Doctor had said; so if she were caught searching for the Skang creatures...
And the alternative possibility, to stow away and get the entire story as it unfolded, was even more dicey. Let‟s face it, she needed the Doctor. Together they made a great team, whereas on her own...
„Come off it, Sarah Jane Smith,‟ she said to herself. „Why not be honest? You‟re just plain scared!‟
She soon forgot her dilemma when they arrived at the docks. Having paid off the driver, she was riffling through a bundle of notes from her bag in search of one hundred rupees - her unofficial ticket into the dockyard - when she became aware that she could see through the gate right across the harbour to the Royal Navy ship and the others at anchor. The Skang wasn‟t alongside the quay where she‟d been yesterday.
Of course! If she were sailing this afternoon, she‟d have to refuel, and get water and all that stuff.
She hurried across to the gate. Good. It was the same security man as the day before. His grinning face was alight with anticipation of favours yet to come, and his hand was hovering ready to receive his bribe.
„Where can I find her? The Skang?’
His face and his hand both fell. „Go to the Harbour Master‟s office. They will be telling you to where she travels.‟
„Yes, but where is she now? I need to go on board.‟
He shrugged. She was no longer his friend. „You have missed the boat, miss.‟
„What? What do you mean? You mean she‟s gone?‟
He gave the little sideways wobble of his head that signifies assent in India, together with a little smirk of pleasure at the bad news. „They did not tell you? Your friends all came on board just after the middle of the night. She left Bombay at two o‟clock this morning!‟
„My name? Whitbread, Alex Whitbread. What does that matter? Have they