Doctor Who_ The Dying Days - Lance Parkin [48]
This was just the Whitehall Office - heaven knew what UNIT HQ looked like now.
A long, black conference table ran the length of the room. The far wall was a bank of video screens of various sizes. Scrol ing readouts, video pictures and computer graphics were constantly flashing up and renewing themselves. The Doctor and Mrs Summerfield had supplied some of the information: computer disks with Mars data, given to them by some chap at the Space Centre. Two sets of near-identical data were flashing all over the place. It was al terribly confusing.
A prim young corporal was sitting at the far end of the desk, tapping instructions into a keyboard that controlled the displays.
Alistair looked around at the three people he'd brought along. Bernice sat to his left, looking a little uncomfortable.
The Doctor paced the room for a moment, before realising that he was also meant to be seated. Both seemed out of place in such a spotless, disciplined place. Alexander Christian sat at Lethbridge-Stewart's right side, much more at ease. The Captain to his right was more nervous.
Bambera stood in front of the multimedia display. 'OK. Here's how I see the situation. There was some flap at the Space Centre. The astronauts discovered a doorway made by extraterrestrials. Since then, there's been a clampdown at Mission Control. I've been trying to get them to return my calls for five hours now, and they won't. A couple of press contacts say they've had no luck, either.'
'If they've encountered evidence of alien life, they're doing the right thing to keep it secret,' one of the Captains noted.
Bambera nodded. 'I agree - and it wouldn't be the first time that the British government had covered up ETs and kept UNIT out of the loop. So I phoned NUIT HQ, Paris and got them to listen in on the Mars transmissions.
Corporal - '
The Corporal control ing the display pressed a control on the desk and the loudspeakers began burbling with standard comms traffic between the Lander and Orbiter. The voices of the astronauts would pipe up every so often. Everything sounded perfectly normal.
'This is a live feed. They haven't even mentioned the archway, so it didn't lead anywhere interesting. End of story.
Right?'
'Wrong,' the Doctor declared. Now he was sitting draped over a chair, his feet on the desk. 'When did the astronauts enter the tomb?' he asked the room.
'About ten fifteen,' Bambera supplied.
The Doctor peered at the clock - it was twenty past six.
47
He leapt to his feet. 'We have a little under forty hours before the invasion.'
'Invasion?!' Lethbridge-Stewart was not the only person to express his surprise at the Doctor's pronouncement.
He knelt down by Summerfield, grabbing her shoulders, staring straight into her eyes. 'You know your Martian culture, Bernice. What's the punishment for tomb robbery?'
'Disturbing the tomb of a Marshal is just about the worst sacrilege under Martian ecclesiastical law,' she said.
Lethbridge-Stewart found himself picturing little green men in dog collars.
The Doctor was nodding his head. 'It's the human equivalent of bursting into Westminster Abbey and digging the place up with a bul dozer.'
'I suppose,' she conceded, aware that everyone in the room was staring at her. Lethbridge-Stewart smiled encouragement at her. The spark of recognition passed between them - here the Doctor goes again.
'So what's the penalty?' the Brigadier prompted her gently.
'Anyone caught in there would face summary execution.' Summerfield realised what she was saying. 'Those astronauts are dead.'
Something pulsed at the very back of Lethbridge-Stewart's brain, primal sorrow for the astronauts, their families, the whole human race.
'Yes,' the Doctor was insisting, 'But it's worse than that. The Martians don't just punish the criminals, do they?'
Summerfield blanched. 'The robbers' entire clan would also face retribution: massive reparations, the loss of territory and industrial facilities.'
The Doctor addressed the room like