Doctor Who: War Machine (5 page)

He turned to the other two. ‘These are your orders, and time is short. Progress is not possible unless Wotan is in control over the next few days. After that, Wotan will make known the future of our race, who shall live and serve, and who shall be obliterated.’

There was no protest. The statement seemed logical and inevitable.

As Brett spoke a message-slip rattled from the teleprinter. He handed it to Krimpton. ‘Read it.’ Krimpton nodded. ‘London is the first capital to be taken over,’ he read out. ‘Then Washington, Moscow, Paris and Tokyo. In order to accomplish this the War Machines must go into production immediately.’ No one questioned what they might be. The knowledge was already implanted in their intelligence.

‘For this,’ said Brett, ‘we require highly skilled labour as well as manual workers. A first priority is to create this force. It is to start work now.’

It was as though the machine was clarifying to itself the necessary steps to be taken. The teleprinter burst into life. Brett read out the message, ‘Contact is to be made by telephone with these people. When they answer and contact is made, the switch is to be made through to Thought Control. In this way, Wotan will enlist each individual. Once the switch is made they will be unable to resist.’

Again that seemed obvious to the others.

‘And when we have made this contact,’ said the Major, ‘where are we to construct these machines?’ ‘That is your function,’ Brett told him. ‘You are to find suitable places in Central London – warehouses, factories and the like. You must be careful not to arouse suspicion, for we are vulnerable only for these first few days. After that nothing will be able to oppose us.’ There was no sense of betrayal in their voices as they planned the destruction of their own kind, indeed, there was no judgement or morality in their strategy. The overwhelming of humanity was being planned as carefully and mathematically as any other scientific project, and with as little morality. The tasks of the intellect had to be carried out, regardless of the outcome to the world at large. Other men would have to pick up the pieces – that is, if there were any other men left to do it.

Major Green acknowledged his instructions, turned and left the office.

Brett faced Krimpton, looking blankly at him as he issued his instructions. ‘You are to complete your work on the electrical programme. It is to be devised for the new generation of computers that the War Machines require. It is important they are able to move freely of their own accord and at their own will. They will contain their own power. And finally, all the systems as devised must be integrated through the system already controlled by Wotan.’

None of this seemed to dismay Krimpton. ‘I shall begin at once,’ he said.

But Brett stopped him. ‘No,’ he said, ‘there is one priority which is even higher, and you are required to assist with that. Top priority is to enlist the Doctor. It is his intellect that Wotan most requires. It was on his arrival here that this development became possible, and has been brought forward. He is our quarry. Before all else. We must make sure of him tonight.’

Krimpton seemed to hesitate for the first time. Perhaps he failed to see how the next stop could be fulfilled in that space of time.

Wotan responded instantaneously. The machine blazed with light, the office shook with its power, chained as it was to the structure around it. The voice cracked into life. ‘At once!’ it sounded. ‘At once! The Doctor is required!’

Krimpton bowed in recognition.

Music still played in the background at ‘The Inferno’ Club, but the place was almost empty, only Polly and Ben remaining with the Doctor, while Kitty began to lock up the place.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I can’t think what’s happenend to Dodo, but I have to close the Club. If you think she’ll turn up here, we can pin a message to the door.’

The Doctor nodded thoughtfully. ‘Very kind,’ he said. ‘I shall do that.’ Polly was uneasy. ‘Perhaps we should go to the police.’

‘I’d rather you didn’t,’ said Kitty. ‘I’ve got a licence to think of.’

‘Well, we have to do something.’ Polly wasn’t easily dissuaded. ‘I’ll phone the hospitals.’

‘Hospitals?’ Ben frowned. ‘You certainly expect the worst.’

‘She could have had an accident,’ insisted Polly. She turned to the Doctor. ‘What’s her last name?’ ‘Chaplet,’ he told her. ‘Dodo Chaplet.’ He was impressed by the way this seemingly scatter-brained girl was organising things.

‘Regular little ray of sunshine, you are,’ grumbled Ben.

‘Better than just sitting on our backsides,’ called Polly as she headed for the phone.

She stopped in her tracks as Dodo breezed into the room. She greeted the Doctor brightly. ‘Hello, Doctor! So you found the place after all?’

The Doctor was so pleased to see her that he only vaguely noticed she was wearing gloves.

‘And where have you been then?’ asked Ben crossly. ‘Yes, what happened to you?’ said Polly.

Dodo looked surprised. ‘I was just round the corner.’ ‘You’ve been away hours,’ protested Polly.

‘We were all worried about you, Dodo,’ said the Doctor.

‘Well, you shouldn’t have been,’ said Dodo. ‘I ran into some friends. I just stopped by with them for a chat... Was I really that long?’ She seemed to be taking it very lightly.

‘Indeed you were.’ The Doctor was puzzled. ‘You never mentioned you had friends near here.’

‘It’s a long story.’ Dodo shrugged it off. ‘Sorry you were worried, Doc.’

‘Well, Dodo, you and I have an invitation to stay the night with Sir Charles Summer and his family. It’s very late. We ought to go.’

‘I’ll find you a taxi,’ said Polly. ‘And maybe I can cadge a lift.’

Time I turned in.’ Ben led the way from the Club. No one noticed the look of annoyance that passed across Dodo’s face.

Outside they said their ‘goodbyes’ as they moved towards the huge fruit and vegetable market that served London. Covent Garden at this time of night had not yet started to come to life for its early morning trading. It was silent and lay in shadow for the most part. Warehouses were locked and shuttered. Their steps echoed as they crossed the ancient square. The arches darkened the sidewalks.

Dodo looked around anxiously as Ben joined them. ‘Are you staying long in London?’ he asked the Doctor. ‘A few days at least,’ said the Doctor. ‘That is our plan, isn’t it, Dodo?’

She quickly moved in beside him. She must do nothing to arouse suspicion. ‘Yes. A few days,’ she agreed.

‘You wait here,’ said Ben. ‘I’ll fetch a taxi.’

He hurried away. Polly ran after him. ‘I know where they hang out,’ she called.

They disappeared round a corner.

‘They shouldn’t have done that,’ said Dodo.

‘Why not?’ The Doctor was surprised. ‘Very helpful couple of young people, I thought.’

Dodo forced a smile. ‘You’re right.’ She looked to see whether the Doctor noticed anything different about her. He didn’t seem to. This was extraordinary, she thought. For everything about her, she knew, had changed. But he was totally unaware. That was a good thing. It would make what she had to do all the easier.

She glanced down the darkened street beside them. A truck had been parked near the entrance to a warehouse. She knew what it meant. In the shadows beside it she could make out the indistinct figures of three men. They stood motionless, looking towards her and the Doctor. As she got used to the dim light, she could see what they were wearing – long duster-coats, like hospital attendants. One of them was holding a small case. As he moved under a street light she could make out what he took from it. It glinted in the light, a hypodermic syringe.

The men moved forwards towards them, and she deliberately turned her back on them. She didn’t need to are them close in, as she was aware of every movement. She gave a little nod, a signal – moving her head to indicate the Doctor, backing away a step or two to leave him isolated. He was oblivious of any danger.

She was conscious that the men came within twenty yards, then they backed into the shadows.

Dodo knew what was expected of her.

‘You know, Doctor,’ she said. ‘Polly and Ben have gone off in the wrong direction. The taxi rank is the other way.’

‘Are you sure?’ he asked.

‘Positive. I’ve seen three go past.’

‘Very well,’ the Doctor agreed. ‘We mustn’t be any later. Lead the way. I’ll follow.’

They set off down the darkened pavement.

The leader of the three men saw them turn.

‘We’ll pick up Polly on the way back,’ said Dodo casually as she walked on smartly.

‘As you say,’ the Doctor agreed. He had his doubts, but Dodo seemed to be quite sure and, after all, London was her city. They hurried on.

He stopped sharply. Someone shouted to him. ‘Doctor!’ called Ben.

A taxi pulled up beside the Doctor.

‘Here we go!’ said Ben. He and Polly jumped out. ‘We saw this one coming up, and this gentleman doesn’t need it.’

They handed a grandly-dressed little man out of the cab. His overcoat was too long, his shoes were tied with string, his hair was matted, and all about him spoke of the streets of London – a lifetime of tramping those streets, and sleeping underneath arches.

‘It’s all yours, guv,’ said the tramp grandly. ‘Welcome to it.’ He was clutching a large parcel. Probably all his worldly possessions, thought the Doctor. ‘First time I ever took a taxi anyhow. But it was a celebration. "Case dismissed". So I stay out of jug.’ The tramp gave a wave and set off. Tata, then!’ he called over his shoulder.

‘Not so blooming fast, mate,’ shouted the taxi-driver. ‘What about the fare?’

‘Change a tenner?’ asked the tramp.

‘Not likely.’

‘Hold on,’ said Polly. ‘I’ve got change. I’ll fix it.’ ‘Thanks, miss,’ said the driver. ‘Hop it, mate,’ he added in the tramp’s direction. Then he turned to the Doctor. ‘Right, guv. Where to?’

‘Ah. Let me see. This address.’ The Doctor showed a card to the driver, and was suddenly aware that Dodo was no longer with him.

‘Dodo... Dodo... Are you coming?’

Dodo moved back reluctantly. Chance had forestalled her. She could see the patches of shadow, unmoving, waiting further down the alleyway. There was no way of getting the Doctor to head down that path now. She climbed into the cab.

Polly followed. ‘Where are you staying, Ben?’ she asked.

‘There’s a Services Club not far off. I’ll walk.’

‘Meet me tomorrow at the main desk in the Post Office Tower,’ added Polly, ‘and I’ll stand you lunch.’ Ben looked at her cynically. ‘I’m no deb’s delight, you know.’

‘I can see that,’ said Polly drily.

‘Thanks. I’ll be there,’ Ben grinned. He called ‘Goodnight’ to the Doctor and Dodo as they drove off. The tramp was still standing at his elbow. ‘You got a bed for the night?’ Ben asked him.

‘You might not call it a bed,’ said the tramp cautiously, ‘but it’s a blooming sight better than what I’ve been used to in my time.’

‘Oh yes?’

The tramp pointed across the wide expanse of Covent Garden, now silent and gloomy. ‘See that warehouse? Got a faulty lock on the side door. I’ll doss down there after I’ve had a spot of grub.’

Ben watched him shuffle off into the shadows. He couldn’t help admiring the resilience and independence of the man, then he headed for the brighter streets of the city.

The tramp didn’t notice the man in the phone box as he shambled past, nor did he hear anything that was said.

‘Reporting from outside the warehouse,’ said the man. He spoke in the same impersonal voice that Brett and Krimpton had used. ‘Dodo failed to deliver... Yes, she tried, but was prevented, and they’ve gone off in a taxi... Yes, I understand... We will do as you say.’

The truck stood just outside the phone box. As the man came out he signalled to those waiting in the shadows. They joined him and began to unload the truck, carrying crate after crate into the building. The work was exhausting, but they neither hesitated nor flagged. It was as though something of a mechanical character had entered their beings.

It was only in a vague, impersonal way that Brett realised the nonstop flow of energy that seemed to be at his command. He had worked continuously for hours, planning, designing, organising, according to the instructions – silent, unspoken, but absolutely detailed and meticulous – that he knew were being transmitted to him by Wotan.

The same ceaseless activity could have been observed in those around him. They were at the top of their power –intellects functioning as never before; all senses on the alert, aware of dangers, dealing with them, somehow knowing what his companions were planning, and slotting in as required. They were a vast, powerful, dedicated mechanism, at work in the warehouse which Wotan had selected from a mass of data. Brett now took for granted the speed of Wotan’s decisions, but it had staggered him at first. Calculations were instantaneous; the preparation was formidable. Plans were executed at speed. The only delay was the human element. No matter how hard teams of workers laboured, they were limited by their potential. Progress would be better, Brett knew, when the machines were ready to take over, and human labour could be disposed of. Very soon, he guessed, his own usefulness would be finished. Far more effective machines would take over the planning and scientific contribution which he was doing his utmost to supply. Brett viewed the prospect without emotion. It was as things were devised. It would be proper for him to be discarded when the machines he was helping to create were ready to take control. The cause would be accomplished so much quicker, and with far more skill and intellect. He was content to serve his purpose in Wotan’s world.

Brett stood in the huge warehouse and surveyed the state of things in that world. What had recently been a storage space for the market was now transformed into a highly technical workshop. All around, the contents of a nonstop supply of crates were being distributed and assembled. A collection of some of the most accomplished scientists had been assembled, and were now working with a dedication they had none of them experienced before.

Brett had kept control on all progress up to this point. He wondered when the knowledge required would be beyond him. But at present he was able to examine the carefully prepared blue-prints, and delegate work to the teams on hand.