Doctor Who: The Enemy of the World (5 page)

The hapless Deputy Controller had been steadily drinking and protesting his innocence, while Salamander revealed that he possessed cast-iron proof that Fedorin had been involved in elaborate interzonal fraud.

Now he followed Salamander out onto the chilly terrace clutching yet another full glass, his head thick and spinning. ‘But this... this is a conspiracy a... against me...’

he stammered, gasping in the sudden fresh air. ‘Some anarchist plot... to ruin me.’

‘My dear Nicholas, what do you take me for?’

Salamander murmured soothingly. ‘I do not intend to expose your crimes in public. It is an insurance.’ He turned to face his swaying victim, his eyes and his teeth gleaming in the twilight. ‘You just have to do something for me...’ he smiled.

Fedorin took a large swig from his glass. ‘What?’

‘Just a little thing. You are going to take the place of Alexander Denes. You will become Central European Controller.’

Fedorin grabbed the edge of the table for support and pushed his sliding spectacles back up his sweating nose. He gulped some more brandy. ‘But Alexander... Alexander,’ he faltered groggily.

Salamander leaned over the table, his unblinking eyes burning. ‘Ah yes, the well-respected Denes,’ he murmured,

‘the humane bureaucrat. Such a pity. The man is going to die, Fedorin. Mysteriously.’

Fedorin drained his glass with a shudder. ‘You can’t make me do that,’ he whispered, the brandy overflowing down his chin and staining his tunic.

Salamander glanced at his watch. ‘Oh, I think I can
ask
you to do anything I wish, amigo. And my predictions are always accurate.’

At that moment the terrace suddenly shook violently.

The tall windows and the glasses on the table rattled loudly, and a deep rumbling sound echoed across the city.

Salamander turned and peered through the image-intensifying binoculars he was carrying slung round his neck. ‘The Eperjest Tokyar Range is about to erupt. It should be quite spectacular,’ he announced.

Fedorin glanced from the back of Salamander’s head to the heavy chair beside him. For a moment his befuddled brain struggled to command his unsteady body to act while it had the chance.

But the opportunity slipped away for ever as Salamander swung round on him. ‘This will be a disaster for the Zone,’

he declared triumphantly. ‘I cannot prevent it, but I shall come to the aid of the people in their misfortune.’

‘And take over. The Zone will be yours.’

‘Ours, my dear Nicholas, ours,’ Salamander corrected him. ‘I offer you partnership. You will have half or you will have nothing at all. Choose.’

Again the terrace shuddered and creaked as more tremors rippled across the city. Salamander scanned the horizon eagerly. The sky above the mountains had begun to glow a dull faint orange and occasional flashes burst like lightning along he skyline.

‘Come and look,’ he cried, ‘it is most beautiful. The glorious power of nature to change the world...’

Before Fedorin could move there was a commotion inside the salon and Donald Bruce strode out onto the terrace with two of his WZO policemen.

Salamander stared at him in surprised irritation. ‘What are you doing here, Bruce?’ he demanded.

The Security Chief was clearly out of breath. ‘I came as soon as I could,’ he panted. ‘The attempt on your life...

there will be arrests within the hour, I can assure you.’

Salamander nodded impatiently. ‘My dear Bruce, my own personal guards are already dealing with the incident.

At present I am occupied with more serious matters.’ He offered the special binoculars to Bruce and pointed to the glowing horizon. ‘A terrible disaster, I fear. The Eperjest Tokyar Region. We shall need to mount a comprehensive relief operation at dawn.’

Bruce squinted through the glasses at the ruddy glow in the distance. ‘You certainly have the knack of being in the right place at the right time, sir,’ he murmured.

There was another flurry of activity inside and Alexander Denes stormed onto the terrace. Under the ornate lanterns his face looked like chalk and his usually kind eyes were blazing with anger. ‘What have you done?

What have you done?’ he cried, going straight up to Salamander as if to attack him physically.

Salamander looked completely taken aback. He turned to Donald Bruce with eyebrows raised and then back to Denes. ‘But I warned you, Alexander. I warned you on this very spot this afternoon,’ he protested, ‘eruptions in Eperjest Tokyar...’

‘But how could you know?’ Denes shouted. He looked round at Donald Bruce, at Fedorin and at the two policemen. ‘Somehow this monster has engineered this catastrophe in Eperjest Tokyar,’ he told them, his hands clenching and unclenching helplessly. ‘There has been no volcanic activity there for hundreds of thousands of years and no seismological warning whatsoever.’

A third time the terrace vibrated violently. A strange burning smell was beginning to drift over the Palace and everyone turned to watch the eerie glow over the mountains intensifying steadily.

Denes was breathing heavily with a painful wheezing and choking sound. ‘I do not know how you have done this terrible crime to innocent people,’ he whispered hoarsely,

‘but I am convinced that it is for your own ends and I shall demand...’

Salamander cut short Denes’ outburst. Wrenching himself free, he turned to Donald Bruce. ‘Arrest this man!’

he ordered.

There was a stunned silence, broken only by the distant thunder of the volcanic eruptions and the rattling of the salon windows.

Donald Bruce shook his head and stared sullenly at his feet. ‘What is the charge, sir?’ he asked reluctantly.

The whites of Salamander’s eyes flashed menacingly.

‘Criminal incompetence, slander and treason,’ he snapped.

Alexander Denes gazes around him as if he were dreaming. ‘This is an outrage. The charges are absurd.’ He started laughing as if the whole thing were a practical joke.

‘Fedorin, what is all this nonsense?’ he cried.

His Deputy looked at the ground and said nothing.

Salamander spoke in a quietly chilling voice, ‘My dear Denes, at your trial Señor Fedorin will be the chief witness for the prosecution.’

4

Ordering Fedorin to accompany him, Salamander entered the Palace saying that he had urgent emergency relief plans to prepare and reports to submit to WZO Headquarters in Geneva. Donald Bruce was left with the prisoner and escort on the terrace, which continued to shake at regular intervals as the earth tremors spread with each eruption.

‘If you please, Mr Denes...’ Bruce mumbled unhappily, indicating that he should move into the Palace.

As he followed them in, Bruce caught sight of a hefty figure wearing the uniform of a Lieutenant in Salamander’s own Security Corps. ‘McCrimmon! What are you doing dressed like this?’ he exclaimed in astonishment.

‘Leader’s orders,’ Jamie replied sharply.

Bruce ignored the implied insult. ‘I want to know what Salamander and Giles Kent were discussing in Melville yesterday,’ he said.

‘Confidential,’ Jamie snapped, turning to leave.

Bruce controlled himself with great difficulty. ‘I am responsible for law and order. Kent is suspected of being a serious danger to Salamander.’

Jamie shrugged. ‘If the Leader wants you to know why he was with Kent, he’ll tell you himself,’ he retorted. ‘But I canna stand here gossiping. This Zone has been declared a disaster area, you know. There’s a lot to do.’

With this piece of devastating impudence Jamie marched out of the salon, leaving the Security Commissioner gaping in silent and impotent rage.

Salamander and Fedorin were standing by a small wall-safe in a dark, heavily furnished room which formed part of Salamander’s accommodation during his visit to the Zone.

‘It’s blackmail!’ Fedorin protested, as Salamander carefully replaced two bulging files in the cavity behind an ornate clock which stood on the huge mantelpiece.

‘Nonsense. I am actually suppressing these damaging facts about your past,’ Salamander retorted. ‘I am making you into Central European Supremo!’

Fedorin took off his horn rimmed glasses and tried to clean them on his sleeve, blinking at Salamander in the gloom. ‘I could never give evidence against Alexander in court. His lawyers would tie me in knots.’

Salamander laughed. ‘Lawyers? Court? All nonsense, my dear Nicholas,’ he purred soothingly, taking a small plastic box from the safe and pressing it into Fedorin’s clammy, trembling hand. ‘This is so much less troublesome. Use it wisely and your future is made. Such a small risk. And the insurance is more than adequate,’

Salamander said, sliding the heavy clock back against the chimney breast. He moved the hands back and forth around the clockface in a complicated sequence until there was a whirring sound followed by a sharp click. The clock chimed prettily and then struck the hour.

Salamander snapped the glass cover shut. ‘And remember, amigo—there is no time like the present.’

In the medieval kitchens situated in the basement of the Palace, Victoria and Fariah were talking to a leathery-faced, shrivelled little man dressed in a rather overelaborate chef’s outfit as he prepared dinner for his master and guests. This was Griffin, Salamander’s personal chef.

‘I’ve got just the job for you,’ Griffin croaked, with a sour grin at Victoria. ‘Peel them spuds.’ He stuffed his hat into his apron. ‘I’m going for a walk—to look for inspiration. It’ll probably rain,’ he mumbled, shuffling out of the kitchen.

Victoria rolled up her sleeves and set to work on the mound of potatoes in the sink. ‘Griffin doesn’t like me, I’m afraid,’ she said.

Suddenly her arm was taken in a fierce grip. Dropping the knife, she found herself looking into Fariah’s gleaming eyes.

‘You must get away from here,’ the black girl murmured earnestly. ‘Don’t let yourself be corrupted by Salamander’s evil world.’

Unnoticed by the two girls, Jamie had slipped stealthily into the kitchen and was standing listening in the shadows.

Victoria stared at Fariah in astonishment. ‘Whatever do you mean?’ she exclaimed. ‘You don’t sound very loyal to your Leader.’

‘Loyal?’ Fariah almost spat. ‘Loyal?’ Her lithe body tensed as she sensed the presence of someone else. ‘Finish these vegetables by the time I return,’ Fariah ordered and abruptly strode out.

Seeing the young Corps Lieutenant watching her, Victoria seized the knife and resumed her task with exaggerated eagerness. A moment later her arm was again gripped, this time by a black-gloved hand. She recognised Jamie’s smiling face with great relief.

‘I managed to slip out and tell Astrid what’s happened before she left for Australia,’ Jamie told her. He explained that Astrid was going to try to rescue Alexander Denes and take him to Australia with her. ‘She thinks the Doctor will believe Denes more than anyone else,’ he said.

Victoria looked doubtful. ‘Rescue Denes? But Salamander’s guards are everywhere.’

Jamie grinned. ‘You don’t have to tell me!’

‘Giles Kent was right. Salamander is an evil man. You can just sense it everywhere,’ Victoria murmured.

As briefly as he could, Jamie told her what he had overheard on the terrace concerning the conspiracy against Denes.

Victoria listened incredulously. ‘Do you really mean that Salamander actually caused the disaster so that he could take over the Zone?’ she exclaimed, when he had finished. ‘But Jamie, how on earth could he do that?’

Kent’s large motor caravan was parked on the edge of a thicket near the perimeter fence of the Kanowa Research Centre. Inside, Kent and the Doctor gazed in horror at the screen of a small portable television which was showing an interzonal newsflash of the catastrophe in the Hungarian mountains. When the bulletin ended, Kent switched off and they sat there in appalled silence.

Eventually Kent reached for a can of beer and ripped the top open savagely. ‘I’m sure Salamander’s responsible for those eruptions,’ he muttered.

The Doctor shook his head. ‘I am not convinced, Kent.’

He got up and walked about in the neat but confined space, deep in thought. ‘You are asking me to believe that Salamander has found a way to harness and control vast geophysical forces. It’s not impossible of course, but I need to know more.’ He picked up a pair of powerful binoculars from the small table and parted the curtains drawn tightly over one of the windows. He studied the Research Centre closely, scanning the enormous solar collectors and mirrors, and began to make a series of complex mental calculations while muttering quietly to himself. ‘What was it that aroused your suspicions?’ he asked at last.

‘It was the requisition papers for supplies to the Centre that I managed to get hold of. They didn’t make sense, Doctor. Salamander was ordering enough materials and provisions for a small town. He was obviously getting finance from the World Zones Monetary Fund for some other big scheme besides the Sunstore.’

The Doctor shut the curtains and sat down. ‘Evidence!’

he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. ‘You have the documents? Photocopies?’ he asked eagerly.

‘All destroyed, Doctor. I was accused of malicious conspiracy and disgraced.’

‘Something of a Jekyll and Hyde character, our friend Salamander,’ the Doctor mused. ‘I’m most impatient to hear what Jamie and Victoria have discovered.’

Suddenly Kent leapt to the window set into the door of the caravan. The Doctor heard the turbojet of a hovercar approaching rapidly.

‘Damn Benik!’ Kent breathed, closing the curtain and rushing across to one of the divans. He lifted it like a lid, revealing a coffin-like space underneath. ‘Quick. In here, Doctor,’ he snapped.

After a moment’s hesitation, the Doctor clambered in and wriggled himself into a lying position. ‘I do hate this cloak and dagger business,’ he muttered as Kent slammed the bed down.

The sound of the hovercar reached a climax and then moaned into silence as the vehicle came to rest outside.

Then there was a splintering crash as the door was almost yanked off its hinges. A burly guard from Salamander’s Security Corps burst in, followed by the Deputy Director of the Kanowa Research Centre.