Doctor Who: Space War (9 page)

He smiled, flashing perfect white teeth. ‘To coin a phrase, Miss Grant, I’ve come to take you away from all this.’ The smile faded to show the joke was over. ‘I am a fully accredited commissioner from a dominion planet within Earth’s empire. You and the Doctor are two dangerous criminals, much sought for the crimes you have committed on my planet, and you are being handed into my custody.’

In fear, Jo pushed herself back on the bunk until her shoulders touched the cold prison wall. ‘You’re behind everything, aren’t you? You told the Ogrons to attack those ships and pretend to be Draconians!’

‘Quite correct, Miss Grant. A really exciting space-war will leave an inter-stellar power vacuum which I shall fill.’ He offered his hand. ‘May I help you up? We have a journey to make.’

‘I’m not going anywhere with you?’

‘Be reasonable, Miss Grant. You want to see the Doctor again, don’t you? We’re going to the Moon to collect him.’

‘How do I know you’re telling the truth?’

The Master shrugged. ‘You’ll only find that out by coming with me.’ He offered his hand again. ‘Well?’

Jo remained cautious. ‘How did you know the Doctor and I were here, in this point in Time, in the first place?’

‘Lucky chance,’ the Master beamed. ‘As you rightly said, I told the Ogrons to attack those cargo ships, Earth ships and ones from Draconia. I also devised that remarkably clever device which makes Earthmen see them as Draconians and vice versa. All the loot from the pirated ships the Ogrons take to their home planet, a most unpleasant and inhospitable place, but currently the centre of my operations. Much to my delight they brought back the Doctor’s TARDIS.’ He paused, clearly pleased with the success of his venture so far. ‘Anything else you need to know?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Why do you want me and the Doctor to go with you?’

‘A kindly impulse, Miss Grant.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘How can I, a fellow Time and Space traveller, leave you both to languish the rest of your natural lives in these awful prisons?’

‘I don’t believe that’s your reason at all,’ said Jo, easing herself up unaided from the bunk. ‘But I suppose anywhere’s better than this.’

‘It is, Miss Grant, it is. Once Earth and Draconia get angry enough with each other, millions will perish in the first few minutes of the war. At least with me you two will be safe. Shall we go now?’

The Doctor had his first taste of prison soup and found it had no taste at all. Since the visit of the soup trolley a minute ago, all the prisoners sat quietly, some alone with their soup and their thoughts. others in small groups. The Doctor was with Professor Dale and the young man called Doughty. Dale, impressed by what the Doctor had to say, had brought Doughty into the conversation.

Doughty said, ‘It’s fantastic. Our seeing Draconians --Draconians seeing Earthmen. I can’t believe it.’

Dale took his soup hungrily. ‘Well I can. At last things make sense.’

‘Thank you.’ said the Doctor, keeping his voice low. ‘You are the first person who’s believed me.’

The professor continued. ‘After the war we had years of peace with Draconia. In the past twenty years we’ve made trade treaties and many cultural exchanges. Then for no reason at all, these acts of piracy.’

Doughty tasted his soup and grimaced. ‘Why should anyone try to start a war between the two empires?’

Before either the Doctor or Professor Dale could try to answer Doughty’s question, their thoughts were interrupted by a shout.

‘Hey! You over there!’ Cross stood some distance from them, pointing at Professor Dale. ‘Spot check. Over here on the double.’

Dale put down his soup bowl. ‘Excuse me. One of our little prison rituals. Every now and then they decide to search us.’

As the Doctor watched with interest, Dale walked up to Cross and posed in what was clearly the approved stance for a prisoner about to be searched—feet apart, arms outstretched. Cross started to systematically feel Dale’s uniform for anything that might be concealed on him.

Doughty turned back to his soup. ‘It’s humiliating to see a petty criminal like Cross in authority over someone like Professor Dale. I think I’ll go mad in this place.’

But the Doctor didn’t find the spectacle humiliating. On the contrary, he watched Cross and Dale with mounting interest. When Dale returned, the Doctor asked: ‘What’s happened?’

Dale picked up his soup bowl. ‘What do you mean —what’s happened? It was a routine search, that’s all.’

‘Come off it, man,’ said the Doctor. ‘I could see that fellow Cross talking all the time out of the side of his mouth. The two of you were giving off conspiracy in waves! What are you up to?’

Dale considered. ‘An escape plan. It’s now.’

Doughty was instantly alerted. ‘How many going?’

The professor looked round to make sure no other prisoners were within earshot. ‘Only two. We have to walk from the air-lock across the Moon’s surface. There will be two space suits in the air-lock. We’re going to steal some VIP spaceship that’s just about to arrive from Earth.’

The Doctor asked, ‘Who are you taking?’

‘I’d planned to take another member of the Peace Party Central Committee with me. But now...’ Dale seemed to take a big decision. ‘Doctor, I want you to come with me. We must get you back to Earth so that you can tell your story.’

The Doctor laughed. ‘It was telling my story on Earth that got me sent here!

‘This time it will be different,’ said Dale. ‘We have important contacts everywhere. Journalists, broadcasters, even some friends in the Government. I’ll make them believe you.’

Jo looked out at the bleak, forbidding moonscape as the Master’s spaceship, which he had stolen from the Interplanetary Police, slowly sank down on to the illuminted landing pad. ‘What are those domes?’ she asked, pointing.

The Master glanced up from the instrument panel at the series of huge domes standing out from the rocky Moon surface. ‘The prison, I imagine. What a wretched place to send people for the rest of their lives.’ He chuckled, amused by the thought of other people’s misery.

‘Why are you always so nasty?’

‘I thought I was charming!’ He laughed, a quick, hard laugh.

‘You are cruel and unkind and never think about anyone but yourself,’ she said emphatically. ‘You’re bad and you know it.’

The Master touched one of the landing controls. The thrust of the retro-rockets increased to soften their landing. ‘Miss Grant, try to see the overall picture. You can only have good people like the Doctor provided there are bad ones like me. So I provide a great service, don’t you see?’

‘You aren’t answering my question.’

‘Perhaps not. Shall we agree that I’m very ambitious?’ A red light on the control panel flashed brilliantly. ‘There, we’ve touched down. I’m going to be rather busy now presenting my credentials to the Prison Governor. I suggest we continue this interesting conversation some other time.’

The Doctor cautiously followed Professor Dale down a bare, metallic maintenance tunnel, leading away from the prisoners’ main association area. He whispered in Dale’s ear. ‘Why is Cross helping you escape?’

‘He’s a petty criminal,’ Dale replied, also in a whisper, ‘but not really a bad man. I promised him that when the Peace Party comes to power on Earth, he will be released from this terrible place.’

‘And he trusts you to keep your promise?’

‘I have a certain reputation for honesty. Ah, here it is!’ The professor stopped at an air-lock door. ‘Let’s see if he’s kept
his
promise.’ He tried the main handle of the heavy metal door. There was a click and the door swung gently open. ‘After you, Doctor.’

The Doctor stepped into a small metal room with bare walls and another door at the far end. Two bright yellow space suits lay on the floor. Standing against the wall were two oxygen cylinder packs. Without speaking, the Professor closed the heavy door, bolting it firmly to ensure that it was airtight.

‘Quick,’ he said urgently. ‘Get one of the suits. Cross gave me precise directions. We have a ten minute walk ahead of us on the Moon’s surface. Then we’ll be at the landing pad. In a few hours we shall be back on Earth.’

The two men started to pull on the heavy space suits.

Cross came soundlessly down the bare maintenance tunnel, keeping to the contour of the metallic wail. Standing at the far end of the tunnel, blaster gun at the ready, was one of the Prison Governor’s personal guards, just in case anything went wrong. It was the Governor’s proud boast that no prisoner had ever escaped and that most of those who tried died in the attempt, a fact that deterred the majority of prisoners from even contemplating a break-out. To maintain an atmosphere of futility, a few of the trusted guards were under instructions to co-operate with occasional escape attempts. then help to kill the escapers.

Cross had now reached the closed door to the air-lock. He took a quick glance through an inspection panel set in the door, turned to the waiting guard and gave the thumbs-up sign. The guard nodded. Cross silently slid over the bolts on the outside of the door.

The Doctor and Professor Dale had on their space suits. Dale said, ‘Clip my cylinders on to the back of my suit, Doctor, then I’ll fix yours.’

The Doctor picked up one of the cylinder packs, reacted to its lightness. ‘This is empty.’

‘It can’t be...’ Dale picked up the other cylinder pack, felt how light it was. ‘There’s some mistake.’

‘I don’t think so.’ The Doctor dropped the pack he was holding, crossed to the door that led to the maintenance tunnel. He slid back the bolts and tried to open the door. ‘It’s locked from the outside.’

As he spoke they both heard a hissing sound. Dale looked startled. ‘What’s that?’

‘They’re depressurising,’ exclaimed the Doctor. ‘They’ve let us get ourselves in here without oxygen, and now they’re pumping all the air out!’

‘We’ll suffocate!’ Dale, white with fear, crossed to the bolted door, pounding it with his bare fists. ‘Help! Let us out!’

‘You’re wasting your breath,’ warned the Doctor. ‘They’ll never hear us. In any case, I don’t think they want to.’

‘I don’t like it,’ said the Prison Governor, still scrutinising the Master’s forged credentials. ‘Normally no prisoner leaves here, at least not alive.’

The Master stood respectfully before the Governor’s desk. They were in the Governor’s private office, a large metal-walled room. The only decoration was a three-dimensional colour portrait of the President on the wall behind the Governor’s desk.

‘I have permission from the President herself,’ said the Master. ‘You see her signature there.’

The Governor sighed. ‘Very well.’ He handed back the Master’s papers. ‘But is seems odd to me. I’ll have the prisoner brought here.’ He reached for his videophone.

‘Couldn’t I be taken to him?’ asked the Master. ‘I want to see his face when he realises that at last I’ve found him.’

The Governor paused. ‘Yes, no reason why not.’ He smiled at the idea. ‘What sort of crimes has he committed on your planet?’

‘Fraud, theft, the usual enterprises of the criminal mind.’ The Master made a move to the door. ‘Perhaps someone could show me the way?...’

‘There’s no hurry, is there? I thought you might care for a spot of refreshment before you make your arrest.’ The Governor laughed. ‘I can assure you, the prisoner isn’t going to run away! ‘

‘It’s most kind of you,’ replied the Master. ‘But after such a long search, you can imagine my eagerness to lay hands on the man.’

‘Just as you like.’ The Governor touched a button on his videophone. A guard’s face appeared on the little monitor screen. ‘Escort needed for special visitor to L block. On the double.’

Professor Dale lay gasping on the floor, his face blue. The doctor leaned against the air-lock door, using his last strength to bang one of the empty oxygen cylinder packs against the heavy metal. Then, involuntarily, the cylinder pack slipped from his hand and fell noisily to the floor. The Doctor looked through the inspection panel, a last hope that someone outside might have heard his tapping. For a moment he had the impression of seeing a swarthy, bearded, smiling face that was all too familiar to him. As unconsciousness seeped into the edges of his mind, he wondered why he had imagined seeing the Master, his deadly rival. It was a strange delusion for his last moments of life. With that thought he slumped to the floor, prepared for death.

The door opened. A rush of air filled the room. The Doctor breathed deeply, believing he was already dead and this was some after-life that he’d never been too sure about. Heavy footsteps were pounding the metal floor all around him, and now hard hands were grabbing his shoulders, raising him.

‘Having a nap?’ asked the Master, bending over the Doctor. ‘What a good thing I happened to drop by. I’d hate you to come to any harm.’

The Doctor was yanked to his feet and marched off towards the Governor’s office to be released into the Master’s custody.

Jo was frightened and bored at the same time. For over an hour she had waited in the Master’s police spaceship, cooped up in a caged corner of the hold. This caged area—two walls of solid metal hull and two walls of iron bars with a locked gate set in one of them—was at least more comfortable than her cell in the great Security Headquarters prison on Earth. It had two bunks, each with mattress and blankets. Nevertheless, it was another confinement. and she was tired of being locked up. Her mind turned idly to canaries and budgerigars who spend their entire lives in cages.

Then she heard sounds reverberating through the metal body of the spaceship. She listened intently, turning her attention to the air-lock door through which the Master had gone when he went to visit the Prison Governor. The door opened, and to her delight the Doctor entered.

He smiled. ‘Jo, how are you?’

Before she could answer, the Master followed the Doctor. With him came two guards in black uniforms, holding blaster guns on the Doctor’s back.

‘You’ll have plenty of time to exchange pleasantries on our journey,’ said the Master. He turned to the guards. ‘Put the prisoner in the cage, then you can leave him to me.’

The Master locked the air-lock door. ‘An interesting reversal, don’t you think, Doctor? Once upon a time you came to visit me when I was in prison. What a pity you found out about my little conspiracy with the Sea-Devils.
*
With their help I could have enslaved the whole of your precious planet Earth!’