Doctor Who and the Auton Invasion (3 page)

Like any good soldier, Captain Munro knew when it was time to beat a retreat. ‘You really have been awfully good sir,' he said smoothly. ‘I'm sure the Brigadier will be most grateful.' Munro looked at his watch. ‘Which reminds me, I really ought to 'phone in a report. I wonder if I might…'

‘Over there,' said Henderson, nodding towards a
'phone booth in the corner. ‘Mind you, this chap's still your responsibility.'

Munro didn't commit himself. ‘Thanks again, sir,' he said with his most charming smile. ‘Now, if you'll excuse me…'

Hastily Munro disappeared inside the 'phone booth. Henderson, realising he'd been out-manoeuvred, turned and went through the swing-doors after his new patient.

Back at UNIT H.Q., Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart was still trying to persuade Liz Shaw to accept the unbelievable.

‘Don't you see, Miss Shaw, it's just
because
everyone takes your attitude, refuses to believe the evidence, that the Earth is in so much danger.'

‘Why is Earth any more likely to be attacked now than at any time during the last fifty thousand years?' said Liz obstinately.

‘Isn't that obvious? Space probes, rocket launches, men on the moon…' The Brigadier leaned forward, his voice urgent. ‘We have drawn attention to ourselves, Miss Shaw.'

Liz sank back into her chair. ‘I'm sorry,' she said, ‘but I just can't swallow it. I admit I've got no explanation for your meteor swarms – but invasion from outer space!'

For a moment the Brigadier was silent, then he seemed to come to a decision. ‘And if I were to tell you that to my personal knowledge there have been two attempts to conquer the planet Earth, both by intelligent life forms from beyond this galaxy?'

All Liz could do was stare at him open-mouthed. He's cracking up, she thought wildly. Over-work probably. Been reading too much science-fiction. The Brigadier was still talking, quietly and calmly, apparently very much in control of his wits.

‘UNIT was formed as a direct result of the first attempt. And I am proud to say that it played a very large part in preventing the second invasion.'

‘Well done,' said Liz faintly. She wondered if she ought to start heading towards the door, before the Brigadier suddenly decided she was a Martian spy.

The Brigadier seemed lost in his memories. ‘Though, of course, we weren't alone. We had help. Very valuable help.' He looked up and smiled. ‘To be perfectly honest, Miss Shaw, you weren't my first choice for the post of UNIT'S Scientific Adviser.'

Despite herself, Liz felt a bit resentful. ‘Oh? And who was then?'

‘A man called “the Doctor”,' answered the Brigadier.

‘Doctor?' said Liz. ‘Doctor who?'

The Brigadier chuckled. ‘Who indeed? I don't think he ever told us his name. But he was the most brilliant scientist I have ever met. No disrespect, Miss Shaw.'

‘So why didn't you get this mysterious genius to be your Scientific Adviser, instead of practically kidnapping me?'

‘Don't think I didn't try,' said the Brigadier ruefully. ‘Unfortunately, he tends to appear and disappear as he pleases. I tried to get hold of him when they decided we needed a resident scientist. The Intelligence services of the entire world were unable to turn up any trace of him.'

‘So you decided to make do with me?'

And a great success you'll make of it, I'm sure,' said the Brigadier. Liz couldn't help smiling at the compliment. Despite his stiff military manner, there was something very likable about the Brigadier.

The 'phone on the Brigadier's desk buzzed, and with a gesture of apology to Liz the Brigadier picked it up.

‘Munro here, sir,' said the voice at the other end. ‘I'm at the Ashbridge Cottage Hospital.'

‘Have you found any trace of those meteorites?'

‘No sir. All we've found so far is one unconscious civvie. I've just turned him over to the local hospital.'

‘Captain Munro,' said the Brigadier acidly, ‘if you've nothing better to report than the finding of a drunken tramp sleeping it off in the woods, I suggest you get off the 'phone and get on with the search.'

‘The chap wasn't drunk sir. Half-dead more like it. And I don't think it was a tramp. Weirdest thing you ever saw, sir. A police box slap in the middle of the woods, and this fellow lying spark-out beside it.'

‘A police box?' said the Brigadier. ‘You did say a
police box?
' His voice was suddenly eager and excited.

‘That's right, sir,' said Munro cheerfully. ‘Suppose I ought to tell the police, really. I mean they may want the thing back.'

The Brigadier's voice was brisk. ‘On no account, Munro. I want an armed guard on that police box right away. Nobody's to be allowed near it. Nobody! Is that clear?'

‘Yes sir,' said Munro automatically. ‘But I don't quite understand, sir…'

The Brigadier's voice cut in. ‘This man you found. You say he's at the hospital?'

‘In Casualty now sir. The Doctor's taking a look at him. The man seems to be in a sort of a coma.'

‘Right,' said the Brigadier crisply. ‘Armed guard on him too, Munro. Nobody's to talk to him till I arrive.'

‘Very good sir,' said Munro, by now thoroughly puzzled.

‘I'll come down right away. Oh – and Munro, I'll be
bringing our new Scientific Adviser with me. Meanwhile, keep the patrols searching.'

The Brigadier slammed down the 'phone and sat for a moment lost in thought. ‘It can't be,' he said, almost to himself. ‘But a police box! And it would be just like him, turning up like that out of the blue.'

‘Just like who?' said Liz, now thoroughly curious.

The Brigadier grinned. ‘Come and see for yourself. I'd like you to come down to Essex with me right away.'

‘But why? What's going on?'

‘That,' said the Brigadier, ‘is exactly what I hope to find out. If my chaps do turn up any of these meteorites you'll be able to do an on-the-spot examination. And I want to see this man they've found for myself. Shall we go?'

Liz Shaw hesitated for a moment. She realised that this was her last chance to insist on her rights, to refuse the ridiculous hush-hush job she was being offered and return to the quiet, sane, sensible world of scientific research.

‘Shall we go, Miss Shaw?' repeated the Brigadier.

Liz looked at him and saw the appeal behind the formal manner. Suddenly she realised that the Brigadier really was worried, that he really did need her help. Why me, she thought, why me? There must be heaps of people better qualified.

But she also realised that she was now much too caught up in this mysterious business of invading alien forces, intelligent meteorites and mysterious men with police boxes, to draw back now. If she did, she'd be torn with curiosity for the rest of her life. She got up and strode to the door which the Brigadier was holding open for her. ‘Come along then, Brigadier,' she said briskly, ‘what are we wasting time for?'

The Brigadier stood astonished as Liz strode past him and marched off down the corridor. Then, deciding not for the first time that he would never understand the ways of women, he hurried after her.

In a small private room, Ashbridge Cottage Hospital's latest arrival lay motionless on the bed. Henderson stood over him, his face a picture of astonishment. He'd expected all along that the new arrival would mean trouble. But not this kind of trouble. Hovering as it seemed between life and death, the new patient was showing reflexes and reactions that Henderson had never encountered before.

Henderson looked up eagerly as a nurse entered with a batch of X-ray plates. Surely these would throw some light on things. The nurse looked at the still figure on the bed. ‘How is he, Doctor?'

Henderson turned away to look at the X-rays. ‘I only wish I knew,' he said honestly. The nurse leaned over the patient, automatically smoothing the pillows and straightening the sheets. The man on the bed was quiet and still, scarcely breathing. She studied the still features for a moment. It was a strange face. Sometimes it seemed handsome and dignified, sometimes quizzical, almost comic. The seams and wrinkles, the shock of almost white hair should have made it an old face, yet somehow there was a strong impression of energy and youth.

Suddenly the nurse drew back in amazement as two very blue eyes flicked open, and studied her with interest. Then solemnly one of them winked. Both eyes closed and
the man seemed to subside into his coma.

‘Nurse!' Henderson's voice made her jump. It was cold with anger. ‘Would you mind coming over here, please?'

The nurse trembled. Like all the other nurses in the hospital, she was terrified of Henderson and his sharp tongue. What could be wrong now, she thought. Maybe those idiots in radiology had sent up the wrong plates. Whatever it was, she'd be the one to get the blame. Inwardly quaking, she crossed to where Henderson was examining the X-rays on a lighted stand. ‘Is there anything wrong, Doctor?' she said, trying to keep her voice calm.

Henderson pointed to the X-ray. ‘You have, I take it, studied the human anatomy as part of your training?'

The nurse sighed. ‘Of course, Doctor.'

Henderson jabbed a quivering finger at the X-ray plate. ‘Then perhaps you would be kind enough to tell me what that is?'

She followed the direction of the finger. ‘It's the patient's heart, Doctor.'

Henderson's finger moved across to the other side of the plate. ‘Then what's this, then, eh? What's this?' By now he was so angry that his voice came out only as a sort of strangulated shriek.

The nurse, now completely terrorised, leaned forward and peered nervously at the X-ray. Then she drew a deep breath. ‘It appears to be another heart, sir.'

‘Exactly,' said Henderson grimly. ‘Another heart. And that, as we know, is impossible, isn't it, nurse? Now then, which of your jolly medical student friends is responsible for this little prank, eh?'

The nurse struggled to control her quavering voice. ‘I don't know, Doctor, honestly. All I did was wait till the
plates were ready and bring them back to you.'

Henderson studied her narrowly and saw that she was much too terrified to be relating anything except the truth. As always, he regretted his quick temper. ‘All right,' he said gruffly, ‘probably wasn't your fault. But someone in that X-ray Department is playing games with me, and I'm going to find out who it is.' He was about to stride from the room when the internal 'phone bleeped. The nurse picked it up. An angry voice said in her ear: ‘This is Lomax. Pathology Lab. Is Doctor Henderson there?'

The nurse almost dropped the 'phone from pure terror. If there was anyone more feared than Doctor Henderson, it was old Doctor Lomax in Pathology. Silently she handed the 'phone to Doctor Henderson. He took it and said, ‘Doctor Henderson. Well?'

The fierce Scottish voice jabbed at his eardrums. ‘No, Doctor Henderson, it's no' well at all. Not when ye've the time to play wee stupid tricks on a busy man like me.'

Henderson's bad temper returned full blast. He and Lomax were old enemies. ‘What the blazes are you talking about?'

‘I am talking, Doctor Henderson, about the sample of blood ye've just sent us for cross matching. Ye admit ye sent the sample?'

‘Of course I did. It's routine. You know that. What's the matter with it?'

The voice on the 'phone was airily sarcastic. ‘Oh nothing, Doctor Henderson, nothing. Except that it's not human blood, as you very well know.'

Henderson said angrily. ‘What do you mean, not human? I took it from the patient myself.'

‘It is not human blood,' said Lomax emphatically. ‘The
platelet stickiness is quite different and it corresponds to no known human blood-type.'

‘Now you listen to me, Doctor Lomax. I took that blood sample from an adult male patient who is lying on the bed in front of me now. You tell me it's not human. His X-ray tells me he's got two hearts. Now I don't know whether that makes me a doctor, a vet or a raving lunatic, but as far as I'm concerned those are the facts.'

Henderson slammed down the 'phone, feeling considerably better for his outburst. He turned to the nurse, who braced herself for another blast, and was astonished when Henderson said gently, ‘It seems I owe you an apology, nurse.' He crossed to the bed and looked down at the sleeping man. ‘Well, whoever or whatever you are, old chap, you're still a patient, and it's my job to look after you.' Henderson turned to the nurse with a worried smile. ‘The only thing is – I haven't the faintest idea where to start.'

They both looked down at the man on the bed. The nurse said, ‘I thought he was coming round a moment ago, but he seems to have…'

She stopped as the man on the bed opened his eyes again. This time he was frowning. He said clearly, ‘My lord, I wish to protest in the strongest terms… the sentence is… I insist on my rights…'

The voice tailed away and the patient slept again. In the corridor outside, Mullins, the hospital porter, abandoned a half-mopped floor and moved off towards the foyer. No one paid Mullins any attention as he slipped across the foyer and into the 'phone booth. He was a seedy little man, easy to ignore. Quickly he dialled the local paper, hands trembling with excitement. In a moment he was speaking to one of the junior reporters.

‘Listen, I've got something for you.'

In a clump of bushes at the edge of Oxley Woods, Sam Seeley crouched as motionless as one of the rabbits he had so often poached. In the distance he could hear the crashing of heavily booted feet, the sound of shouted orders as the army patrols called to each other on their search.

With military precision the soldiers had divided the woods into sections, and were methodically combing them, one by one. The woods were thick and dark, the ground between the trees heavily overgrown with gorse and bracken. The search was taking a long time. So far they had found nothing. They certainly hadn't found Sam Seeley, who slipped through the patrols at will, sometimes passing within a few feet of them.