Doctor Who_ War Games - Malcolm Hulke [29]
The guard turned around to keep his stun-gun trained on the Doctor. ‘I think you’re the man we’re looking for...’
His words ended there. Carstairs had stepped in behind him. He brought the butt of his service revolver sharply across the back of the guard’s neck, just below his helmet.
The guard fell.
‘They questioned me,’ Zoe moaned, head in hands.
‘They used that.’ She pointed to a pair of giant earphones.
‘I saw pictures of... of the resistance. They think I’m a member. They wanted me to identify people...’
While Zoe talked the Doctor tried on the earphones. He activated the little machine to which they were connected and instantly began to see mental images of faces—a soldier in Turkish uniform, a British Boer War sergeant from 1899, a British private of 1917. He switched off.
‘Fascinating little gadget,’ he said. ‘So at least we know there is a resistance organisation.’
‘How can there be,’ said Carstairs, ‘if all the soldiers are under the thumb of these bounders?’
‘The effect of the process sometimes wears off, as it did with you and Lady Jennifer.’ The Doctor turned back to Zoe. ‘Can you remember all the faces you saw?’
‘Of course,’ she said confidently.
‘Then we must return to the time zones and organise these people into one huge resistance army.’
‘And how,’ said Carstairs, ‘do we get back there?’
‘Same way as we came,’ said the Doctor. ‘Follow me.
We’ve played hide and seek so far. Let’s hope our luck holds.’
‘You will all be recaptured now,’ von Weich said calmly.
Jamie admired the man’s nerve. ‘Something is about to happen beyond your understanding. Before you can regain your wits, you will be our prisoners. Then we shall deal with your minds and you will forget everything.’
Some of the resistance fighters were still so impressed by the telecommunications unit that they looked inclined to believe him.
‘It’s like a picture in a frame,’ said the Negro. ‘Only it ain’t no picture.’
‘A device invented long after your time,’ said von Weich. ‘Any moment now you will be even more puzzled.’
Jamie said, ‘You expect one of your transports to come and save you?’
Von Weich nodded. ‘That’s right. You will be overwhelmed.’
‘Why are you doing this?’ Lady Jennifer asked. ‘Who are you and where do you come from?’
‘That would take a lot of explaining,’ von Weich replied.
‘Most of it would be impossible for you to understand.’
She bridled. ‘Because I’m a woman?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Because you are a human—’
The sound of a materialising sidrat filled the barn.
‘What’s that?’ said Sergeant Russell. Already the sound was increasing in intensity.
‘Quick,’ said Jamie, ‘everyone hide! A box is going to appear right there,’ he said, pointing to the centre of the barn. ‘Someone’ll come out of it. We’ve got to grab them.
First grab him!’ He pointed at von Weich.
The sound was striking terror into the soldiers, all except Sergeant Russell. He alone acted on Jamie’s advice and grabbed von Weich.
‘All right, I’ve got him!’
Jamie joined the sergeant in throwing von Weich to the ground in the stall. Together they sat on him and hid themselves and the struggling von Weich behind a mound of straw.
‘What now?’ asked the sergeant.
Jamie kept his eyes on the centre of the barn. ‘You watch.’
The sound was deafening now. Everyone had hid-den, not so much as a tactic but through sheer terror. Quite suddenly the sidrat materialised in exactly the same spot as before. Once it was totally visible, the sound ceased. The American Negro soldier raised his head on the other side of the barn.
‘Glory be! It ain’t possible! ‘
Jamie waved to him to keep down. ‘Shut up.’
They waited. Below Jamie, von Weich lay quite still. A full half minute passed before the sidrat’s door opened.
Two guards in silvery uniforms stepped out carrying stun-guns. They looked around but saw no one. One of them noticed the revealed telecommunications unit and walked over to it. Silently, Sergeant Russell drew his revolver.
The Negro looked up again, holding his old-fashioned rifle. ‘Halt! You’re our prisoners now—’
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