Doctor Who_ The Devil Goblins From Neptune - Keith Topping [81]
The room beyond was dark save for a single table lamp on top of a mahogany desk. The pool of light illuminated a pair of hands, leafing through a document.
Bruce strode smartly up to the man. 'I believe this is the information you require, Mr President.' he stated, placing the manila envelope on the table.
The hands came into the pool of light again, and pulled out a few sheets. There was a grunt, made ambiguous by the darkness. 'Geneva.' said the man. 'We have another job for you.'
Benton took the train to Salisbury, sitting next to a young man who said he was a member of the Lowlife Brotherhood Republican Movement. He tried to indoctrinate Benton, then gave up, talking about football instead.
Five years from now, thought Benton, you'll be selling insurance. He lapsed into sleep just as the kid was giving twenty reasons why Leicester City would never be champions.
Benton snapped back into wakefulness just as the train pulled into the station. The young man had gone. Benton stuffed the newspaper he'd bought at the kiosk into his holdall, and jumped to his feet.
A succession of local buses, all of which seemed to run on the principle that the fastest way from A to B was via X,Y, and Z, took Benton to the edge of Salisbury Plain. He'd been on manoeuvres there many times before, and had a vague idea where the hippies were likely to be found. Even so, it took him a number of hours to track down the Venus People.
As he approached the site - some fields that bordered MoD land - Benton felt that he was buzzing and alive, his mind full of the electricity of new thoughts and ideas. It was years since he had felt like this.
Benton hid in some bushes as a trio of hippies shuffled past, talking animatedly about 'the big gig' where 'it's all coming down'. The two lads were trying their best to sound calm and relaxed, but even Benton could detect the excitement in their voices. The girl had absolutely no time for their cynicism. Her zeal blazed like a torch.
They were young and stupid, Benton could tell that. Their minds had been poisoned by the evil guru who was feeding them a diet of lies and letting the drugs do the rest. Benton felt sorry for them, but a good bath, a haircut and a dose of national service would sort them out. Never did him any harm.
He shook his head. His mind was wandering again. It was happening more frequently now. Perhaps the doctor at that hospital had been right about the delayed effects of concussion.
He turned as an engine started, first time. Not one of the charabancs. A Mercedes he'd not noticed before was pulling, away from the camp. Although he didn't get a decent look at the driver, Benton knew that it was Viscount Rose. He also knew who Rose was visiting, and he knew why They were hatching plots. Fiendish schemes.
It was time to strike at the heart of the action. Benton removed his jacket and left it in the bushes with his holdall.
He undid a few buttons on his shirt, rubbed some soil on to his hands and face, and then backtracked a couple of hundred yards parallel to the dirt road. He breathed deeply, and waited for his whirling thoughts to gather themselves.
Here we go.
He stepped on to the road in full view of the Venus People. A new convert to their cause.
Quizzical eyes looked at him as he reached the edge of the camp and smiled a bewildered, lost smile.
'Peace,' he said, doing the gesture as he came within earshot. 'Love,' replied the girl, beaming a smile that wasn't shared by her two friends.
I've come down from the Smoke,' explained Benton.
want to know when the saucers are showing up.'
It was dark and something was pressing against Alistair's chest. Ignore it. Must be night-time. Get some sleep.
The sensation refused to go away. Alistair found breathing difficult. And the darkness wasn't right, either.
Lethbridge-Stewart moved his head, and it hurt. But he realised that it had