Doctor Who_ Island of Death - Barry Letts [90]
He looked at her in amazement. „You seem to have forgotten that this is precisely why I came to Stella Island.‟
„You don‟t understand. If the Skang makes the decision to terminate, it will be the end for everyone - and I do mean everyone. Giving my people... my children... granting them fulfilment - the fulfilment that every sentient being hungers for without knowing it - is one thing. A pointless massacre is quite another.‟
„But why should there be anything of the kind? Just from mere pique? I don‟t understand.‟
„Oh it‟ll be quite impersonal. The logic of the situation demands it. No trace must be left of the Skang‟s visit to this planet. There‟ll be nobody on the island left alive. Nobody at all.‟
In spite of his private doubts that the firing of at least one missile was necessary in order to save Homo sapiens from a humiliating and ultimately terminal fate, Pete Andrews had soon been convinced that it was his duty.
This the Brigadier had accomplished with a good deal of biting comments about military efficiency compared with naval casualness, albeit sotto voce (which had the quality of shouting without the volume).
Pete could feel his face turning red as he listened to the Brigadier‟s remarks, but once he took on board the necessity of going along with his demands, he wasted no time. He‟d show this arrogant brown job what efficiency was.
He picked up the microphone of the Tannoy. „First Lieutenant to the bridge. First Lieutenant to the bridge. Chop chop!‟
He glanced at the Brigadier, who had gone back to surveying the shore, to see if he‟d noticed this lapse into decidedly unofficial slang.
It was over five years since the Hallaton had been equipped to defend Hong Kong from the might of Communist China.
He just hoped to God they‟d all remember the drill.
„Excuse me.‟ The Doctor was speaking to the sentry outside who was blocking the gap in the rocks that formed a window.
„Yeah?‟
„Do you think it would be possible for you to stand a little to your left? A couple of feet would do nicely. If it wouldn‟t inconvenience you, of course.‟
The giant guard grasped his home-made spear a bit more firmly. „You trying to be funny, bub?‟
Ah, a New Yorker. „You‟re from Brooklyn, aren‟t you?‟
He loosened his grip a little. What‟s it to you?‟
„Used to be a haunt of mine, Brooklyn.‟
In a sense, the Doctor thought. It was 1925, at the height of the disastrous experiment of Prohibition. He‟d been there at least a fortnight - the time it had taken to ferret out Studs Maloney (an alias of course), who‟d set up a lucrative business importing rot-gut hooch from the twenty-fifth century.
„Ma Goldoni‟s deli still going strong, Hank? Best apple pie in the US of A, Ma Goldoni‟s,‟ he said.
The big man beamed. You knew „Ma Goldoni? She only croaked coupla years ago. Ninety-three, she was.‟
Well, she would be.
„Madge took over. You know Madge? Her pie‟s even better!‟
This was surreal, thought the Doctor. What a time to chat about apple pie. And what was he doing, colluding with Dame Hilda? She was the enemy, for Pete‟s sake! One step at a time.
The guard frowned. He‟d remembered his duty. „Don‟t try to get clever, sir.‟
The Doctor held up his hands in mock surrender. „I just want to see what‟s going on. Okay?‟
He grunted. „Mm. Okay.‟
He moved out of the way, and the Doctor was able to see out. The first thing to catch his eye was the man who had been placed to guard the „door‟, watching suspiciously. So there was no chance of any further action at the moment.
He looked down into the arena