Doctor Who: War Machine (8 page)

He heard the man calling, ‘Eyesight to be improved. Distance insufficient.’

Ben opened the door – a tiny crack – and saw the Machine. It was undergoing a change. The throb of inner power increased; energy seemed to be generated to an explosive point.

‘Movement test!’ called the Major.

The noise from the dynamo reached an intensity that filled the room. Ben felt his head; the pressure had become painful. The Machine began to shake... and then of its own accord it started to move... Slowly at first... very slowly. Then with increasing speed, greater assurance. sudden power... A great surge of something like arrogance, it seemed to Ben. It was alive! The Machine had taken over control of itself. He saw with his own eyes what had happened, but could not believe it! He was startled, incredulous!

The Machine continued its circle round the warehouse, knocking aside anything that came into its path, careless of all before it. People scattered as it approached, sweeping through the crowd, ignoring those who had constructed it– its eyes growing brighter, beginning to blaze, dazzling those caught in its beams, like rabbits in a car’s headlights.

It went faster, starting to turn and twist, to experiment with new powers, doubling back on itself, and then discovering a fresh sense– the need to play games. It raced forward, scattering a knot of men, turned and harried one of them, following the man as he scrambled away... Jerking back and forward, teasing the now desperate man it had marked down as its quarry. In his panic he stumbled and fell. He managed to roll aside as the Machine sped after him. But the mechanism was up to such manoeuvres; it could change its course instantly. The man on the ground saw it coming. Perhaps it would have laughed, had laughter been programmed into it. As it was, it merely rolled forward... Testing... testing...

Ben couldn’t see what happened, but he heard the scream, and was aware of the silence that followed. After that the Machine slowed down a little, sweeping a pile of crates to the floor, and rolling through the debris.

Undoubtedly the test programme had been a success as well.

Ben wasn’t sure how long he stood just beyond the door, the tiny opening revealing the bizarre activity beyond. His brain seemed to have come to a stop; he was stunned. It didn’t occur to him to turn and run.

What he was witnessing was so incredible... so impossible. Not even a dream...

The Machine came to a halt in the centre of the room. The head spun slowly round, the light from the eyes flickered irregularly, sweeping round the crowded warehouse as though seeking someone. Then it broke into a high, wavering sound.

The Major hurried foward. He snatched up a number of messages – slips that spilled to the ground. An alarm bell sounded.

For a second or two it did not occur to Ben that this turmoil had anything to do with him, then he was aware of his own danger. He backed towards the outer door.

He didn’t notice the figure standing in the dark behind him.

Someone had entered from the street, and stood watching in silence.

The Major shouted, ‘Warning! There is a stranger amongst us. He must be found at once. Begin searching!’ Ben had moved just in time.

He turned and was face to face with Polly!

‘Polly! What are you doing here?’ He couldn’t disguise his alarm.

She was calm and collected. ‘I came to look for you.’ ‘Did the Doctor tell you I was here?’

She hesitated for a second. ‘Yes.’

She took a step towards the warehouse door. Ben grabbed her arm. ‘Don’t go in there!’

‘Why?’

‘We must get away from here.’ He couldn’t explain now.

But she didn’t move.

‘Quickly,’ he whispered. ‘I’ve got to report back to the Doctor.’

‘What’s in there?’ she asked. He thought she was unusually placid – not at all like she had been the day before.

‘I can’t tell you,’ he said. ‘You wouldn’t believe it.’ She didn’t seem impressed, and pushed his arm aside as she headed for the door.

Ben pulled her back. ‘Listen! Keep out of there. This way, Polly. Come on!’

She asked ‘Why?’ in the same dull, flat voice.

He was exasperated. ‘Because it’s a ruddy madhouse in there! It’s packed with people who have gone off their heads! They’re brainwashed, or hypnotised, or something!’

‘You saw them?’

‘I’m telling you!’

‘What else did you see?’ She was quite unmoved. Ben was bewildered. ‘There’s a sort of machine... Must be one of these computers... but it’s a living computer! It moves! It’s just killed some poor bloke.. I tell you, Polly. Move fast. We’ve got to get out of here!’

She was motionless, standing between him and the inner door. The same man could be heard not far away. ‘The Major,’ said Polly.

‘The intruder is just beyond that door,’ shouted the Major. ‘The bearing is two hundred and fifteen degrees. He is to be taken at once.’

‘That’s it,’ said Ben. ‘Believe me now... this way. fast!’

‘Power locks on all escape points!’ shouted the Major. ‘He is not to be allowed to leave the building.’ Ben moved quickly towards the street door. He thought Polly was following as he saw her hurry after him, but she stopped by the side of the door and reached up to press a wall button. The door appeared suddenly magnetised, being pulled flush with the wall. He tried to wrench it open. It was as rigid as a rock.

For heaven’s sake, Polly! What have you done?’ ‘I have my instructions,’ she said flatly.

He stared at her in the dark beside him, betraying no emotion. ‘What’s happened to you?’ But he was already guessing the answer.

‘You are not to get away,’ said Polly.

He made a dive for the wall button, but she stood in his way.

She was surprisingly strong, but he threw her aside, and had one hand on the button when the door behind burst open, and he went down under a heap of men. He lashed out in desperation, but the odds were against him. And the girl stood quietly looking on.

‘You don’t know what you’re doing, Polly!’ he shouted. ‘Get the Doctor... Now... before it’s too late.’

The Major called from the next room. ‘Bring him. The Machine wishes to deal with him.’

He struggled as they dragged him along the corridor. ‘Get help, Polly! Get help!’

She followed them into the store room.

The Major stood by the side of the Machine; now he was merely some form of adjunct... A mouthpiece.. his own individuality quite gone, and dominated by the structure that towered over him.

‘The intruder has been spying,’ said the Major. ‘Polly!’ A last shout.

She didn’t react... He had a feeling that in a sense she didn’t even hear.

The Doctor paced up and down in Sir Charles’s library, while his host looked on anxiously.

‘Take my advice, Doctor. Try to relax. There’s no point in upsetting yourself like this.’

‘He should have been back hours ago,’ said the Doctor. ‘I should never have let him go.’

‘You know what young people are like.’ Sir Charles tried to ease matters. ‘He’s probably quite forgotten your instructions. He could be off doing something else.’

The Doctor shook his head. ‘Not that young man. He seemed far too responsible to me. No – if he hasn’t phoned back it’s because he isn’t able to. Something must have happened.’

‘But what?’

The Doctor didn’t like to speculate.

‘But if you’re really concerned,’ went on Sir Charles, ‘perhaps we should contact the police.’

‘Using the police at this stage might just drive this menace underground,’ said the Doctor.

Sir Charles had heard all this before, as the Doctor had expressed his fears.

‘But what menace?’ he barked. ‘You can’t tell me what you suspect... And you can’t show any evidence either! What worries me, Doctor, is that if this sort of rumour gets out, what is going to happen to our "Switch-On" day? People have worked for years for this occasion. This type of talk would ruin everything.’ ‘We may very well have more than rumours to contend with, if we’re not careful,’ said the Doctor grimly. He began to stride up and down again... ‘Where is that boy!’

Ben found he was looking up at the Machine as though it were a living being. Although it was the Major at its side who did the talking, it was obvious who–or what–dominated the scene. They were all subjected to this inhuman creation. All, except himself, in that packed store room. It was like facing a judge– or, more exactly, an executioner.

The Major was listing a series of actions, charging him with some new type of crime.

Ben listened in a daze.

‘You tried to warn human authorities of the work going on in this building,’ intoned the Major. ‘You are clearly an enemy of mechanised evolution.’

It was the first time he had even heard of it, Ben thought.

‘Nothing must prevent Machines from taking over from mankind the domination of the universe. This is the next stage in the growth of the life-force on this planet. In order to achieve this, all obstacles are to be destroyed... You have acted as such an obstacle.’

It was clear that a judgement had been passed. The trial had been conducted in a few brief moments, and was now over. This was to be a lesson to those present–although they didn’t need any lessons; they were absolute converts already.

The Machine began to build up a different sound within, the lights glowed placidly. Justice was about to take its course. It moved forward slightly – the heavy arm began to rise.

No one moved or protested – nothing extraordinary was happening.

‘Are you all out of your minds?’ Ben tried to struggle, but he was firmly held by half a dozen men. ‘Can’t you see what’s happening? It will be your turn next!’

The Major turned to him. ‘Do you not understand? We are all required by Wotan... that is our function. When that is complete, of course we may become redundant. That is fate... as it ought to be. When the tool is no longer of any use, it is rational to put it aside.’

There was no point in protesting. He was going to be destroyed as a useless piece of equipment. Yes, machinery was really taking its revenge! It had indeed turned the tables... Well, there was no point in whining... but he would have liked to tell the Doctor... That would have shaken the old man!

He was aware that someone had stepped forward from the watching group.

‘What does the girl want?’ asked the Major.

Polly was puzzled to find herself in front of the others, side by side with this sailor. She didn’t understand what had made her step forward. But she found herself speaking. ‘I ant the one who trapped this intruder.’

‘That is correct,’ agreed the Major.

‘I did not let him escape.’

‘True.’

‘Wotan requires all the labour we can find,’ she went on. ‘Perhaps it is too soon to destroy this stranger. Why do we not require him to work first? To help in this great task, and then to destroy him later?’

‘How are you to know what Wotan would require?’ asked the Major.

The Machine was fractionally subdued. Lights dimmed, the dynamo hummed softly.

‘I have just come from the offices of Professor Brett. These are his orders. So they are directives from Wotan.’

There was a moment’s silence.

It seemed an age to Ben.

‘Very well,’ said the Major slowly. ‘He is to work for the time being. He will work for us now.’ He waved dismissively to the crowd, ‘Time has been wasted. Return to your tasks... all of you... now.’

The crowd moved quietly away. They resumed what they had been doing. There had been a hitch, but it was over now. It was as though there had been no interruption.

'Strewth!’ Ben took a deep breath. ‘That was a close one. Thanks, gal. You really played them along. You even had me fooled.’

She looked at him coldly. ‘You have been spared. You most now show your gratitude. Work hard for the success of this sacred Cause.’

‘Eh? What cause?’

‘The victory of the War Machines.’

Polly moved back to her work. Ben hesitated a second, then followed suit. All he could do now, wasn’t it? Lie low. Keep his head down... wait his chance... If it ever came up!

Both Brett and Krimpton received the directive from Wotan. It came in the form of a series of signals. ‘All War Machines will be completed and ready by noon tomorrow. The deadline has been brought forward.’

They repeated the orders to one another, standing in front of Wotan.

‘Machines have been programmed to destroy any human life that opposes them.’

‘The order to launch the attack comes from Wotan alone.’

‘Covent Garden War Machine is closest to completion. But none are yet fully developed. They are in the stages of final testing.’

‘All Machines must be under one discipline. They are to attack simultaneously.’

There was a pause as the two men awaited the next spate of instructions.

‘The object of the attack,’ said Brett, ‘is to occupy the strategic points in the city. The War Machines are to assume total control over human authority.’

‘By noon tomorrow,’ repeated Krimpton.

The message came through to the warehouse. To achieve the new deadline the pressure had to be increased. The Machine drove through the room with the Major in tow, dealing out blows as he saw the workers around him stagger at their benches. Those who collapsed made way for others, always standing by. They were putting together a second and a third structure, each an improvement on the previous version. The material used became lighter, yet more impenetrable.

‘Such an alloy will take War Machines to the moon,’ the Major informed those around him. The speed of development was possible as information flooded from the computers.

It appeared strange to Ben that this vast increase in scientific technology should depend on such a primitive activity as human labour. These men and women, staggering under heavy loads, like coolies a hundred years earlier, were little different to the slaves who built the pyramids. If this was an example of the benefits of science, he for one could do without it!

But he made a great show of putting his back into his work as the Major strode by in the wake of the War Machine, issuing orders, and handing out blows. ‘Faster there! Faster! Anyone who fails to work will be dispensed with.’