Doctor Who_ War Games - Malcolm Hulke [25]
‘Can’t we help him?’ Zoe whispered.
‘Not now,’ the Doctor whispered back. ‘Perhaps later.’
‘This machine,’ the scientist explained, ‘is only a prototype. Soon we shall have machines that can process large groups of specimens all at the same time.’ He checked his dials. ‘That should be enough. Release the specimen.’
While the guards unstrapped Carstairs, the scientist removed the cowl. Carstairs was sitting in the wheelchair quite relaxed now.
‘What is your name?’ asked the scientist.
‘Jeremy Carstairs.’
‘I am your superior officer,’ the scientist snapped.
Instantly Carstairs got out of the chair and jumped to attention. ‘Sorry, sir.’
‘Where are you, Carstairs?’
Now Carstairs looked confused. ‘Well, sir, I’m...’
‘You are in my office at headquarters,’ the scientist told him.
‘That’s right, sir. I am in your office at headquarters.’
‘Very good,’ said the scientist. He pointed to the cowl and the control panel. ‘What are those things?’
Carstairs looked. ‘Sir?’
‘You can’t see anything where I am pointing?’
‘No, sir. Sorry, sir.’
‘Excellent.’ The scientist turned back to the group.
‘Objects beyond his comprehension are now invisible to him.’ He turned back to Carstairs. ‘Who are all these people?’
Carstairs considered. ‘My brother officers, sir.’ Looking around the group his eyes fell on Zoe and the Doctor. He raised an accusing finger. ‘Except those two, sir! They are German spies!’
‘He’s playing a game,’ said Zoe, not yet concerned.
‘I don’t think so,’ said the Doctor. ‘Sit tight and hope for the best.’
‘German spies?’ said the scientist. ‘Whatever gives you that idea? These are all your masters.’ He turned with a smile to the group. ‘When I said the word “masters” just then he heard the words “brother officers”!’
‘I implore you to believe me, sir. Those two are spies.
While thousands of British heroes are giving their lives for King and Country, those two are collecting information...’
‘Take him away!’ the scientist snapped at the guards.
Carstairs was hurried back through the little door, still protesting. ‘As I said,’ the scientist continued to the group,
‘I chose a particularly difficult specimen. Perhaps we should try another.’ The scientist was about to call for another specimen, but to his surprise one of the listeners was speaking up.
‘It should have been possible to re-process that man, don’t you think?’ The Doctor had risen from his place and was moving through the group towards the processing machine. ‘Let me look at this thing.’
The scientist was outraged. ‘Kindly return to your place!’
‘Personally,’ said the Doctor, closing in on the scientist and his equipment, ‘I think the man was unbalanced.
Fancy calling any of us spies.’ The Doctor started to examine the cowl and the control panel.
The scientist became defensive. ‘He was probably tracking down German spies before he came here. It’s some fixation with him. Please leave the equipment alone!’
‘I would,’ said the Doctor, removing an inspection cap and peering inside, ‘except that it is defective. This circuit here is overloading the neural paths. Did you de-process that man completely before you gave this demonstration?’
‘It is none of your business! Please return to your seat!’
The Doctor looked at him. ‘It is very much my business.
How can we carry out our great plan if any equipment isn’t working properly? Now, I asked you a simple question: was that man de-processed before the experiment?’
‘There was no need,’ the scientist answered uneasily.
‘His processing had already lapsed. You saw that for yourself.’
‘What I saw,’ said the Doctor, ‘was a specimen whose processing had partly lapsed. He should have been completely de-processed before you started again. Still, I don’t suppose you can do that on this machine...’
‘Of course we can,’ said the scientist, proudly. ‘It’s simply a matter of re-arranging the circuits. Let me show you.’ He disconnected a number of wires and re-connected them with different terminals. ‘There you are. This machine can now remove all traces of any previous