Doctor Who_ The Devil Goblins From Neptune - Keith Topping [43]
'Exactly,' said the Doctor. 'I'm going to suggest something a little more subtle. They might not listen to me, despite all the trouble they've gone to to get me. But perhaps if both of us shout loudly enough...'
Liz to smiled, ashamed that she'd thought the Doctor was getting too embroiled in the military's distinctive approach to problem-solving. 'And you think there's a link with that meteorite in the UK?'
'Almost certainly.'
'You had an idea there would be, didn't you?'
The Doctor smiled. 'I've never been a believer in coincidence, you know that.'
'Then why come all the way out here?'
'To stay and defend Britain alone would be parochial in the extreme, Liz. Anyway, the aliens - if that is what they are -
have only just landed in Britain. They've been in the USSR
for a number of months. If we can work out what's going on here, we'll have a pretty clear idea what to expect back in England, won't we?'
Liz nodded, leaning closer to the Doctor. 'And you believe the Soviets?' she whispered. 'You don't think this is all some elaborate trick?'
The Doctor shook his head. 'No. They're frightened. I'm inclined to trust frightened people.
Mike Yates had volunteered for further duties as soon as it became clear that he hadn't suffered any long-term damage from Shuskin's blow to the head. Although the plan to allow the Doctor's kidnap had worked, and the entire operation was completed with minimal fuss or loss of life, Mike couldn't help but feel that his own rampaging hormones had let the Brigadier and the Doctor down.
The Doctor, of course, harboured no resentment, and, thankfully, Lethbridge-Stewart seemed preoccupied and had dispatched Yates with Sergeant Benton to the site of the festival to see if any further information could be gleaned from 'those young people'. From the reaction of the couple in the van two nights before, Yates suspected that there was very little chance of a pair of army officers, however nice and
'with it' they might seem, getting much frankness from the peace-and-love freaks.
He'd decided that they should travel in civvies and pose as journalists from the underground press.
'Remember,' he said, as they parked his Datsun close to the entrance to the festival grounds, 'If anybody asks, just say you're with the International Times, and say "man" a lot. It'll be a breeze'
'Yes, sir,' said Benton.
'John, for goodness sake, stop calling me "sir" - that's a bit of a give-away, wouldn't you say?'
'Yes, sir... Mike.'
'That's better.'
As they walked through the near-deserted grounds Yates became increasingly aware that they probably stood out amongst the litter and the occasional clump of windswept youths like a pair of stolen cars. Oh, well. Standard army procedure.' press on regardless.
'Check out the squares,' said one boy as they passed his tent.
'Hi, man,' said Yates with a cheesy grin. 'Me and my mate are from IT. We heard there was a happening going down?'
'Your hair's too short,' the boy said with disinterest. 'Make like a drum, and beat it till you've got yourself together man'
He turned and scuttled back into his tent, muttering about
'weekend hippies'.
'Not very successful,' said Benton, straight-faced.
'No,' agreed Yates. 'Still, I suppose that proves we're never going to convince anyone we're part of their scene.
We'd better just say we're from the Daily Mirror or something.
At least that's left-wing. Let's try over there...'
They headed towards a group of dirty Transit vans with a large bonfire roaring away in front of them.
'Not a very inviting bunch,' said Benton as they closed in on a group of suspicious-looking long-haired people in flowing kaftans.
'First impressions aren't always reliable,' said 'Just, turning on his most charming smile as he approached the group. 'Hi,' he said, 'I'm Mike Yates from the Mirror. Nice day, isn't it?'
There followed a long period of silence before one of the group, a woman, answered. 'Every day is a