Doctor Who_ Last of the Gaderene - Mark Gatiss [19]
But I can’t seem to get a straight answer out of anyone.’
The Doctor rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘And it feels like more than just the usual bureaucracy?’
The Brigadier nodded. ‘These new people seem to have friends in high places. The order comes from the top. Leave well alone.’
Jo chewed thoughtfully at her lower lip. ‘And what are they called?’
The Brigadier glanced down at a sheaf of notes. ‘Legion International.’
The Doctor looked up. ‘What did you say?’
‘Legion International,’ repeated the Brigadier. ‘A new outfit apparently. Lot of foreign investors. And that’s about all I could find out.’
The Doctor seemed lost in thought. Jo looked at him.
‘What is it, Doctor?’
He continued to think in silence for a moment and then shook his head. ‘Nothing, nothing.’ Jumping to his feet, he crossed straight to the door and pulled it open.
‘Where are you going?’ cried the Brigadier in surprise.
The Doctor looked puzzled. ‘Culverton, of course. Isn’t that where you wanted me to go?’
He strode out, his cloak flapping behind him.
The church hall was buzzing with chatter. Bliss held up her hands for silence. Whistler and Noah had folded their arms simultaneously, unconsciously mirroring each other’s scepticism.
‘My friends,’ continued Bliss in her syrupy voice. ‘I can understand your concern. The news of the aerodrome’s closure must have come as a shock. Who can forget the heroic exploits of its fighter squadrons during the last war?’
Whistler cleared his throat. ‘Plenty by the sound of it.
Otherwise, why close the place down?’
Bliss eyed Whistler carefully and flashed her huge smile.
‘Time marches on, sir. The old order passes away.’
Whistler harrumphed. ‘And what, pray, are we to expect in its place?’
Bliss nodded to the black-uniformed Captain McGarrigle at her side. The muscular man crossed swiftly to a slide projector which had been set up at the back of the hall and switched it on. The machine was of a dull, grey, planished metal and hummed with power.
McGarrigle slotted a slide into place and suddenly Bliss’s face was bathed in coloured light. A huge image was projected across the room on to the white plaster of the far wall. Bliss stepped aside so the assembled villagers could take it in.
The image was an artist’s impression of the aerodrome, but in a very different state to the neglected, weed-strewn place that everyone knew.
The parabolic prefabs had been replaced by tall steel and glass towers. Sleek passenger aircraft, even the odd jumbo jet, were dotted around the broad black band of a new runway, disgorging hundreds of happy, tanned passengers.
Everywhere, airline crew in black uniforms and peaked caps were smiling and waving. A flag flew boldly from the top of the highest tower.
‘What the hell do you call that?’ cried Whistler from his seat.
Bliss’s smile grew even broader. ‘The future, my friend.’
She stepped back into the projector’s beam and an aeroplane was instantly superimposed across her pale, fat features. ‘I give you Legion International.’
There was an audible gasp from the assembled villagers, then a smattering of clapping.
Bliss accepted the applause like a soprano during a curtain-call, bowing slightly and plucking unconsciously at her blouse. She looked up, her huge black eyes glittering, and gave a little nod.
McGarrigle and the other uniformed man moved swiftly and silently to the doors of the hall and opened them wide.
At once, a dozen or so similarly dressed men marched inside, tall, handsome and immaculate in their uniforms. They split into two columns and moved to flank the figure of Bliss who stood at their head like the general of an army.
Jo had never seen a sky like it. Not on Earth anyway. The Doctor had driven his little yellow Edwardian car, Bessie, at a frantic pace out into the Essex countryside and, hugging the coast, up towards East Anglia.
The land had quickly flattened out and it was possible to see for miles and miles with only the occasional church spire to break up the horizon.
At first Jo had found the journey