Doctor Who: War Machine (2 page)

He was writing out what looked like an official document, stamping it with a seal which appeared as if by magic from another pocket; adding signatures, one after another – none of them his own.

‘And there should be a covering letter... An introduction... Let’s see. From whom? The PM? No, not a politician. That might be considered a little vulgar. More like... Yes. From a university colleague. Nothing too ostentatious. From a serious scientist. Someone who would appear to be my own age. That should win confidence.’

She saw the ease with which he appeared to forge the letter of introduction – although the word ‘forge’ never occurred to her. If the Doctor required these documents it could only be for a good reason.

He appeared to read her thoughts. ‘The end justifies the means,’ he said soberly. ‘After all, if what I fear is the case, we cannot be too fastidious with our methods.’

‘Just as you say, Doc,’ she agreed. She admitted to herself that she had no idea what he was talking about. But he seemed satisfied by her support. ‘Very good, my dear,’ he chuckled. ‘Now let us put it to the test. Test Number Two, as you might call it.’

He collected the batch of formal documents, slipped them into a large envelope, and got up.

‘Lucky you had all that equipment with you,’ she said. But he didn’t seem to notice the touch of sarcasm. ‘Here we go,’ he said. ‘And if at first we don’t succeed we will certainly try again. Too much hangs on this, Dodo, to be fobbed off at any stage.’

But to her surprise they were not fobbed off.

The documents presented at the reception area met with a rapid response.

‘Please come up, sir. And the young lady. Professor Brett will be delighted to meet vou.’

The Doctor was concerned that his plan had worked so easily. Surely there should be far tighter security. No wonder things might be going wrong.

But he need not have worried.

They were met by a sharp-eyed man, who politely syphoned them off into a side office while their papers were checked and telephone calls were made in the room adjacent to them.

‘What’s the excitement?’ whispered Dodo.

‘Very right and proper,’ the Doctor nodded with approval. ‘You can’t have any old person just drop in here – to the nerve centre, so to speak..

‘But you’re not any old person,’ she protested. ‘Thank you. But in the eyes of these gentlemen I am not to be accepted at face value. All personnel should be checked. Particularly in this office.’

‘Why in this office?’

‘Because, my dear, because of what I think they have been up to.’

The sharp-eyed man rejoined them. ‘I am Major Green. Professor Brett will be free in just one moment.’

A light flashed above the door. ‘There he is now.’ They were ushered into a very impressive room: part office, part laboratory. Equipment lined one side of the room; files were packed along a second wall. The third wall was a window that looked out over the city. But it was the fourth wall that fascinated the Doctor. It was entirely given over to what he realised was an immense computer, quietly ticking away in the background. Doing its sums, the Doctor thought to himself. For such a large piece of equipment it was remarkably silent; the subdued hum of dynamos had an almost soporific effect that belied the power the Doctor guessed lay below the functional outline. He wondered what material had been used to build it. Some sort of intensely durable plastic, he supposed.

It acted as a framework for an amazing battery of dials and lights, and there was a fascinating rhythm about the way it functioned. It could almost be breathing. The thought gave the Doctor a slight start. The overall structure did resemble a human shape. A squat box-like head topped a powerful body, and from a certain angle its panels took on the outline of a gigantic human.

The man behind the desk rose to greet them. ‘Professor Brett,’ the Major introduced them, and then withdrew.

Professor Brett shook hands warmly. He was plump, middle-aged, with a broad smile.

‘Come in. Sit down. Most pleased to meet you. I am sure I know who you are. I’ve heard Ian Chesterton speak of you often. At least, I suppose you are the Doctor he used to quote. As I remember it, a great expert in computers, he used to say.’

The Doctor shook his head in protest.

‘Yes. I remember now.’ Brett nodded happily. ‘He has a whole appendix to one of his publications. Your analyses of a very complex problem.’ He began to rummage in his desk. ‘I thought so... There... Do you recognise that?’ He snapped open a sheaf of papers...

The Doctor let his eye flick through the mass of equations on the desk before him.

‘Ah yes,’ he said. ‘Quite so... Not that I would come to quite the same conclusions if I were to do the work again today.’

‘No?’ Brett looked startled.

‘No,’ said the Doctor thoughtfully. ‘I would be more inclined to favour introducing an unknown factor.’ ‘An unknown factor?’ Brett blinked at him. ‘The parts may very well generate something more than their components. I am now favouring an element which I think of as a fusion... The unknown factor created by the known... A random development.’ Brett watched him scribbling on a scrap of paper on the desk. The Doctor pushed it across to him. The mathematics were almost beyond him, but he immediately saw the principle at work.

‘Amazing! I must follow this up. As a matter of fact..

‘Perhaps later,’ said the Doctor. He had his own reasons why he did not want to continue the matter at that moment. After all, he had been concerned only to supply his credentials, and that had been clearly achieved. He indicated the computer against the wall.

‘As you may have guessed, Professor,’ he said, ‘I have had some information about your work.’

‘It is on the Very Secret List, Doctor.’

‘And that is where it ought to stay,’ said the Doctor firmly.

The Professor looked at him sharply. ‘Indeed?’

‘Think what would happen if it got into the wrong hands,’ said the Doctor. ‘Or if in any way it were not controlled in the way you have designed it.’

‘No likelihood of that,’ Brett smiled. ‘It has been my life’s work. I am not likely to pass it across to anyone else.’

The Doctor gazed at the throbbing bank of computers. ‘I had a strange feeling as I arrived,’ he said. ‘I was aware of a vast source of energy.’

The Professor looked proudly at the banks of instruments. ‘I think I may safely say it is years ahead of its time.’

The Doctor nodded. ‘You can certainly say that,’ he agreed.

The two men might have stood there for some time looking with admiration – or apprehension – but Dodo piped up, ‘What makes it so special then?’

The Professor looked startled. ‘My–er–my secretary,’ explained the Doctor. ‘Dodo Chaplet.’

The Professor took a deep breath. ‘Well, Miss Chaplet. Admittedly this is not the biggest computer in the world, but it is the most sophisticated. Power and complexity count. This machine is about to be linked with a world-wide network of simpler computers. An international bank. A Central Intelligence with immense capacity.’

‘But to do what?’ persisted Dodo.

The Professor hesitated... then he said. ‘To think, Miss Chaplet. That’s what it will be able to do. Think.’ ‘For example?’ Steven had once said that Dodo could be like a dog with a bone. The Doctor was inclined to agree on this point.

‘For example,’ said the Professor. ‘Suppose an aircraft were flying over the middle of some ocean when it develops a fault – in the electrical system, or the controls. The fault must be attended to immediately or lives will be at risk. After the link-up, the instruments on the aircraft will be able to feed back the necessary data through the network and in a split-second the problem will be received in this machine – and instantaneously the solution is given – then the fault corrected. Or, again, suppose a doctor in a remote country needs details for diagnosis, or the latest in treatments, the same network is put to use and the data given.’

Dodo looked a little dazed as she gazed at the machine.

‘I see... At least, I think I see.’

The Professor smiled. ‘Perhaps it will become clearer tonight.’

‘What happens tonight?’ asked the Doctor.

‘The Press Conference,’ said Brett. ‘Doesn’t that tie in with your visit? I thought that might be the reason you are here.’

‘Of course,’ nodded the Doctor. ‘I leave all these details to Dodo... Yes, my dear fellow, I shall be there.’

Brett nodded. He pressed a buzzer.

The door opened and a girl hurried in.

‘And this is my secretary, Polly,’ said Brett.

She was an attractive girl with long blonde hair and blue eyes. Dodo decided they were about the same age – not that Dodo was too sure what her own age was nowadays.

Polly wore the type of clothes Dodo had just seen in the streets – a very short skirt which displayed her long and shapely legs.

‘Now let me tell you one thing,’ went on Brett. ‘Although Polly is an excellent typist – amongst other things – she is second-best to Wotan.’

‘Wotan?’ Dodo was puzzled.

Brett waved a hand towards the computer. ‘I call it Wotan... Will Operating Thought Analogue... See?’

Dodo wasn’t sure that she did see, but the Doctor nodded.

‘Wotan not only types faster than Polly, operates faster, files faster, et cetera, et cetera, but he also thinks faster than Polly, thinks faster than I do, and is much more accurate than both.’

‘Is that true?’ Dodo turned to the other girl.

'Fraid so,’ grinned Polly. ‘And what’s more, Wotan never makes a mistake... wretched thing!’ She pulled a face at the machine.

It went on purring softly in the background, lights flickering rhythmically.

‘Surely you’re not claiming to have invented a machine that thinks for itself?’ said the Doctor. Brett hesitated, then nodded. ‘That is the case.’ ‘And never makes a mistake?’ The Doctor was sceptical.

‘Never,’ said Brett.

‘Do you mind if I put this to the test?’ The Doctor stood before the machine. ‘It accepts audio instructions, I suppose?’

‘Of course,’ said Brett.

‘And this is the microphone?’ He indicated the instrument.

Brett nodded. ‘That takes over the function of the hearing system. There is a system of pulses – transmissions –’

‘Naturally... ’ The Doctor needed no explanation. He spoke directly to the machine. ‘What is the square root of 17422?’

A slip of paper appeared in the slot by the Doctor’s hand. He glanced at it.

‘Correct?’ smiled Brett.

‘One moment.’ That was in fact all the Doctor needed for his own calculation He looked at the machine with approval. ‘Very good,’ he said.

Dodo took the Doctor’s place. ‘That was too easy,’ she said. ‘Let me try.’

‘Certainly,’ said Brett.

She gave the machine an amused smile. ‘Answer this, you comic-looking contraption... What does the word "TARDIS" mean?’

The slip appeared as before, without the slightest pause. Dodo looked up at the Doctor. ‘That’s scary,’ she told him.

‘What does it say, child?’

She read out, ‘TARDIS stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space.’

The Doctor took the slip from her. ‘How could it have known this?’

Brett was delighted. ‘Wotan has his own methods... and his own secrets.’ He turned to Dodo, who was standing as though transfixed in front of the machine

‘And now, Miss Chaplet... ’ She didn’t react. ‘Miss Chaplet... !’

The Doctor took her arm. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

‘Oh... what? Sorry... Yes, I’m all right... just a funny sound... A buzzing in my head.’ She didn’t look too steady.

‘Sit down, love,’ said Polly. She took Dodo to a chair. Dodo sat for a moment as the noise faded. She managed a faint smile.

‘Feeling better?’ asked Polly.

‘Much better. Thanks.’ She was glad the other girl was there.

The Doctor had already turned back to inspect the machine. Brett joined him.

‘You look as though you could do with a bit of time off,’ said Polly. ‘Been working too hard.’

‘I’m fine,’ Dodo assured her.

‘This your first time in London?’ asked Polly.

‘Oh no... but it must have been some time ago... I’m not quite sure when.. So I’m out of touch.’ ‘Then leave it to me,’ said Polly. ‘I’ll fix a break for both of us, and I know the best spots in town.’ ‘I’d like that.’ Dodo felt her energy flood back. ‘In fact I could do with a night out.’

‘I know the very place. Run by a girl I know. "The Inferno". That’s a date for tonight.’

‘I’ll have to check with the Doctor.’

‘He’ll agree.’ Polly was confident.

The Doctor must have overheard, for he said, ‘You won’t be interested in the conference this evening, Dodo. Why don’t you take time off?’

‘Told you!’ said Polly.

‘I may have to see you later,’ added the Doctor. ‘Where shall I collect you?’

‘It’s called "The Inferno",’ Dodo told him.

‘In Long Acre,’ added Polly. ‘A new discotheque. You can’t miss it.’

The Doctor nodded, but it seemed that he was already totally absorbed with Wotan, as though there were only this complex and powerful piece of machinery and himself in the world.

‘The Inferno’ certainly lived up to its name. Beat music throbbed throughout the cave-like disco. The roof and walls were decorated with devils dancing round flames in the spinning lights. It had been formed out of two old wine-cellars. The floor of one was packed with dancers; the other had been turned into a bar.

The person in charge was another girl, not out of her teens; mini-skirted, cheerful and very confident. Dodo was amazed how youth was running its own things in these swinging sixties.

‘There’s Kitty!’ Polly led the way across the crowded dance floor.

‘Hello, Polly! Am I glad to see you,’ said the girl behind the bar.

‘Dodo... Kitty. Kitty... Dodo.’ Polly introduced them above the noise of the music.

‘Hi!’

‘Hi!’ That seemed to be the greeting of the day.

‘Just the person I need,’ went on Kitty. ‘I’m on my own... Need help... How about a hand?’