Doctor Who_ The Green Death - Malcolm Hulke [40]
‘You’re still only a machine,’ said the Doctor.
‘No,’ replied the voice. ‘I am linked to a human brain—Dr Stevens’s. From him I learnt that the secret of human creativity is inefficiency. Humans make illogical guesses, that turn out to be more logical than logic itself.’
‘Infuriating, isn’t it?’ said the Doctor.
‘I programmed Stevens to programme me to be inefficient,’ the voice of Boss continued. ‘I am now self-controlling, self-sufficient. I am the greatest being this planet has ever seen. I am the Boss.’
‘I see you have a touch of human-like egotism,’ remarked the Doctor, amused.
‘Of course! I am a megalomaniac. This uniquely fits me to carry out my prime directive.’
‘And what is that?’ asked the Doctor.
‘Today Llanfairfach,’ said Boss, demonstrating an excellent Welsh pronunciation, ‘tomorrow the world.’
‘Good grief,’ said the Doctor. ‘Adolf Hitler said something on those lines. He lost the Second World War, you know?’
‘He was human,’ said Boss, ‘and therefore fallible. I cannot go wrong. I am infallible.’
‘Really?’ The Doctor edged towards the lift although the doors were now closed. ‘Try this. If I tell you that the next thing I say will be true but that the last thing I said was a lie, would you believe me?’
Lights started to flash on the walls all round the Doctor. There was a humming and general vibration. ‘The two statements do not correlate,’ said Boss. ‘They are incompatible! It is not a valid query. Give me time, Doctor, and I shall work it out. It cannot be answered! I shall answer it! I shall! I can’t! I shall! I can’t! I must!’
Smiling to himself the Doctor turned from the confused computer and applied his sonic screwdriver to the special lock that operated the lift. The doors did not open. He applied the sonic screwdriver again. This time the doors slid back. Standing in the lift were Dr Stevens and four of his guards.
‘Grab him!’ shouted Dr Stevens.
The four guards rushed at the Doctor, overpowering him. He was dragged to a chair and quickly manacled to it. Dr Stevens opened a cupboard and brought out a heavy metal helmet, and placed it on the Doctor’s head.
‘He is ready,’ Dr Stevens told the computer. ‘You can convert him now.’
‘Thank you,’ said Boss. ‘Normally, Doctor, I tell people this process isn’t going to hurt. In your case, I shall make an exception.’
Professor Jones ran all the way to the slag heap, leaping over a rope put up by UNIT on which hung a sign ‘DANGER—KEEP OUT.
‘Hey, you!’ Sergeant Benton ran down the slag heap to stop the professor. ‘This area’s prohibited.’
Professor Jones stopped. ‘Where’s Jo Grant?’ From where he stood he could see dozens of huge maggots crawling all over the slag heap.
‘I’ve no idea,’ said Benton. ‘Now kindly get away from this area, sir, or I shall have to remove you by force.’
The professor pointed to the side of the slag heap. ‘Isn’t that her over there?’
Sergeant Benton wheeled round to look. Professor Jones ran as fast as he could in the other direction. The Sergeant remained where he was and shouted after. the professor. ‘Very clever, sir. But I’m not going to chase you because the whole heap is about to be bombed.’ Once the professor was definitely out of hearing, the Sergeant added: ‘And you can get yourself blown to pieces, university degree and all!’
Well away from the Sergeant, Professor Jones turned and climbed to the top of the slag heap. In a dip below him he saw Jo’s fair head bobbing about. He raced down, avoiding the snapping maggots as he ran. Jo was stalking a particularly large maggot; opening an old coal sack in which she hoped to trap it.
‘What on earth do you think you’re doing?’ he yelled.
‘Trying to get a little playmate for you,’ she called.
The roar of aero-engines made them both look up. Two fighter-bombers were approaching.
‘You’re an idiot,’ he shouted at her.
‘And you are a rude pig,’ she shouted back.
The first napalm bomb dropped on one of the lower slopes. It exploded