Doctor Who_ Just War - Lance Parkin [109]
‘Killing you would change nothing. It won’t bring back the dead, it won’t save a single life. There’s worse to come in this war: crimes against the universe itself. For now, Auschwitz, Pearl Harbour, Stalingrad, Dresden, Coventry, Hiroshima, Kwai are just names on a map. This war will give the words new and terrible meaning, definitions that will resonate through history. Killing you wouldn’t stop it. No, I’ve come here to reason with you.’
Wolff sneered. ‘A very nice speech. It almost brought a tear to my... eye. But you won’t stop me with reason, You won’t talk me out of it, you’ll have to use that gun. If you really do kill all the Fascists, drown out our shouts, avenge the murder of your civilians by bombing our cities into the dust, well then, Doctor, it will just mean that Nazism has triumphed.’
The Doctor spoke in German. ‘“He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster... if you gaze for long into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.”’
Wolff paused, trying to put what he felt into words. ‘If the word Nazi fills you with revulsion, if you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as anyone who calls themselves a Nazi, then how is that different from my hating the word Bolshevik or Jew? You tell me that I can believe what I like, as long as it meets with your approval. You grant me free speech, yet you won’t let me say what I truly believe? I would rather you killed me. You can make all the moralizing speeches you like, but when it comes down to it, all you are saying is that you are stronger than me. The only thing that gives you authority is that gun you are holding. The only thing that separates us is that I would use it without hesitation.’
The Doctor pulled back the gun.
‘As I thought,’ Wolff spat, ‘“If I killed you, I’d become as bad as the Nazis.” You haven’t the stomach for the fight.
You’ll be swept away, Doctor, you and all the weak. Do you really think Hartung was the only scientist at the Reich’s disposal? There are a thousand more, all with their own secret weapons, all with their vision of Nazi destiny.’
‘Could you really live in a world built on foundations of human skulls? Cushions stuffed with dead women’s hair, candles made from human fat, lampshades with tattoos? A uniform world of concrete, perpetual war and hatred?’ the Doctor said softly, looking down at the heavy black pistol.
‘Yes,’ Wolff said simply. Then, ‘I challenge you to put that gun down and fight me like a man, with honour.’
‘Hardly a fair contest, Herr Wolff; you demonstrated your fighting prowess on the beach, and again with my friend, Professor Summerfield. Thugs like you always find it easy to hurt those smaller and more vulnerable than themselves.
Your ability to gang up and kill unarmed civilians has never been in doubt. I do have a possible solution, though.’
The Doctor laid the gun on the bed beside Wolff.
The room seemed suddenly dark.
When the Doctor spoke again, his voice rumbled low as thunder in the mountains. ‘I challenge you to a game, a contest of equals. Winner takes all.’ The Doctor held out his hand; in it were three bullets. ‘We’ll take it in turns. I’ll place the gun at my temple and I’ll pull the trigger. Assuming that the chamber is empty, I then pass the gun to you. You do the same. One of us dies, one of us wins. There are three bullets in there, so it’s fifty-fifty odds — I believe they call it Russian Roulette. We’ll see what our destiny is, and who’s the coward. The winner walks out...’ the Doctor glanced at the cell door, which swung open ‘...of that door.’
Wolff glanced down at the gun.
‘Do you want me to go first? Are you afraid?’ the Doctor asked quietly, picking up the gun and pressing it to his temple. He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the trigger.
Click.
The Doctor opened his right eye, then his left. He sighed, obviously relieved. The Doctor spun the barrel and offered the weapon to Wolff. The German shrank from it. ‘This is not a test of skill, but of luck. A childish display — an activity for drunken degenerates, not an honourable soldier.