Doctor Who_ Battlefield Part 6

Bambera had been trained to take this in her stride. She closed her eyes.

'Go at everything with an open mind.' Chunky Gilmore had said that repeatedly in lectures. 'Even if it's impossible, treat it with an open mind. If you don't, then you'll be in the sanatorium so fast they'll hear the sonic boom in Coal Hill.'

Lectures at Sandhurst. Now it came back to her.

Aylesbury. UNIT's Zen Brigade based at Aylesbury.

Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart.

'How could he be the same man if his appearance changed?'

Now Zbrigniev did look sheepish. 'Don't know, sir.'

'And did Lethbridge-Stewart trust this "Doctor"?'

'With his life, sir.'

The night after they bought the apple tree, Doris dreamt of thunder. She had woken to the sound of wind-driven rain against the window. Lightning flickered in a line under the curtains. The bed was half empty, but still warm from his body. He always rose early, it was an old habit. She lay quietly, listening to the rain and for some hint of his presence in the house.

Thunder rolled in the distance.

Doris had inherited the house from her aunt, a mock Tudor extravagance set in half an acre off the A23 near Pyecombe. It was far too large a house for a single woman on her own, but Doris had kept it all the same. Perhaps fate had ordained it - as Alastair pointed out, a peculiar att.i.tude for an economist.

The television had been on, she remembered, more for company in the empty house than for entertainment. She had been reviewing the proof copy of The Management The Management Crisis in British Industry Crisis in British Industry, when she looked up and saw his face on the screen.

' This man knows. This man knows. ' said the narrator. ' said the narrator.

Doris dropped her highlighter pen. A telephoto shot of a tall thickset man with a moustache and an erect military carriage, walking the gravel path in front of a Regency mansion.

' Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart once held a senior command in Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart once held a senior command in a secret military force which operates free of the control of the a secret military force which operates free of the control of the British government. British government. ' '

She was watching the infamous State Secret doc.u.mentary; the one delayed while the Special Branch raided television offices in Birmingham and questions were asked in the House of Commons.

Doris's pen spread a circle of orange on her skirt as she watched.

' This man knows. This man knows. ' '

In the morning, Doris was on the Ml , pressing the accelerator on her old diesel saloon until the car shook.

She found him making tea in the converted prefab that served as his home in the school grounds. Her soldier reduced to a maths master. She was terrified he wouldn't recognize her.

'Good lord,' he said as he opened the door. 'Doris, how marvellous to see you. And I thought it was another of those blasted journalists.'

' We may never know what happened at the atomic We may never know what happened at the atomic installation at Wenley Moor, the fate of Mars Probe 7, the Styles installation at Wenley Moor, the fate of Mars Probe 7, the Styles Conference on disarmament or the terrible ecological accident at Conference on disarmament or the terrible ecological accident at Llanfairfach. But we do know that Brigadier Alastair Llanfairfach. But we do know that Brigadier Alastair Lethbridge-Stewart was a leading agent in the Government's Lethbridge-Stewart was a leading agent in the Government's response to these crises. response to these crises. ' '

None of his precision had left him, even when it came to making the tea. The pot warmed. Two cups placed exactly on a tin tray. An open packet of biscuits set neatly in the middle of the plate. Just as she remembered it from long ago in a Brighton hotel overlooking the seafront. The rain fell against the window and the cold grey sea crashed on the shingle.

They were older, but nothing had really changed.

'Marry me,' she said as he placed the tray before her.

'Of course,' said Alastair and sat down opposite. 'When term finishes.'

The clink of cups broke her reverie as he returned to the bedroom. Rea.s.sured, she snuggled back down under the duvet.

'Did you hear that infernal racket?' he said as he placed the tray on the bedside table. 'Can't get a thing on the radio.'

'What racket?' she muttered.

'Like all h.e.l.l breaking loose.'

She snuggled deeper into the warm bed. 'I must have slept through it.'

'Extraordinary.' He climbed back into bed and dozed contentedly while the tea brewed.

The blue box beside the track hummed perceptibly as the Black Knight ran his hand along its carved contours.

Sensors in the mail glove pa.s.sed the data into the armour's memory book. Illuminated runescript read out across the inside of the umberere visor. The artefact was unknown.

He pushed up his prattling visor. The thrill that had brought the knight up in his tracks was undiminished.

Here in the tangled woodland, a world away from the world. was an object he knew from tapestries and old tales.

There was little doubt. The past had summoned him and here was its token. And if this was truly Merlin's long-lost ship returned, what other wonders also waited in these wild woods? Wonders which Morgaine's men would stop at naught to destroy.

He heard an angry growl approaching and took refuge among the trees to watch. An armoured cart or chariot carrying three pa.s.sengers sped past along the track.

So the peasants of Avallion had machines as well. But compared with those in the world, this graceless and brutish carriage seemed more dead than alive. An ill or good omen? They said that only in a time of greatest need would the High King return to set the worlds to right. The knight turned back to the blue box. That time must be soon if the king's greatest councillor came as his forerunner.

'Why are you driving us to the village?' asked the Doctor from the UNIT vehicle's front pa.s.senger seat. From the back, Ace watched the TARDIS disappear into the distance.

Bambera showed no sign of being anything other than very wary of her charges. It was clear that this Doctor knew too much, but he was too upfront to be an enemy agent.

Until she could get a clear idea of his ident.i.ty, and that meant getting radio communication back on line, she was giving nothing away. 'To get you away from Vortigern's Lake.'

'Oh yes, Vortigern. How interesting.'

'Fascinating,' complained Ace. They couldn't be in that much trouble or they'd have had an armed escort.

Bambera's stare hardened on the road. If the convoy was threatened, the last thing she wanted was civilians getting in the way, whoever Zbrigniev thought the Doctor was. In the current scenario, she was the only one who could be spared, and that annoyed her. She took the turning that led down towards Carbury village.

'What's your name?' asked the Doctor.

'What's yours?'

'He's called the Doctor and I'm called Ace,' b.u.t.ted in the voice from the back.

'Brigadier Winifred Bambera,' said the driver.

Ace was astonished. 'Winifred?'

The Doctor nodded. 'There are a lot of secrets held in a name. For example, Vortigern in Old English means High King. So your missile convoy is stranded by the Lake of the High King.'

'It's not my convoy and it's not stranded. It's merely suffering from a minor technical malfunction.'

'If it's so minor, why is UNIT involved?'

'Why are you so interested?'

The Doctor was happy to keep this up for the rest of the trip. 'Why do you care?'

Ace leaned through the gap between them and said, 'Why don't I understand what you two are talking about?'

The Doctor went quiet and looked out at the ravaged countryside. Forces were at play there and he wanted to know who and what their motives were.

Ahead he could see the tiny village of Carbury. Beyond it, the storm's blast had combed the trees flat in one sweep across the hillside.

And Winifred is a modern English equivalent of Guenever. By the roadside was a half fallen sign marked The Gore Crow Hotel. Fully Licensed. Non-Residents Welcome The Gore Crow Hotel. Fully Licensed. Non-Residents Welcome.

Bambera pulled into the drive and stopped in front of the rambling edifice.

'You can stay here,' she said and released the locks on the doors. 'I'll see you later.'

Ace and the Doctor climbed out on to the gravel.

'Thanks for the lift,' called the Doctor raising his hat.

'Good luck with your missile.'

Bambera gave him a glare of contempt and pulled away, narrowly avoiding the brightly-coloured car that was chugging up the drive towards them.

The Chinese girl at the wheel smiled at them as she parked her blue 2CV in front of the hotel. Shou Yuing had to look twice at Ace's clothes to believe them. Surely nostalgia for the eighties wasn't back in fashion again?

She'd come home from Exeter University for the Easter vac to get away from fashion victims like that.

'Good morning,' called the Doctor raising his hat again.

Shou Yuing looked at his muddy shoes and grinned back. 'Quite a storm, wasn't it?'

'Yes, it must have been.' He turned and hurried Ace in through the hotel's porch.

The oak-panelled hall smelt of beeswax and freshly cut narcissi. It was deserted, but the sound of an electronic till led them into the bar which seemed to double as a reception area. There were a.s.sorted archaeological fragments around the walls and a take fire burning in the real stone fireplace. Beside it, a middle-aged woman sat in an armchair, her hand resting on the open page of a book.

She looked up expectantly as the Doctor and Ace walked in. Ace thought she was listening rather than looking.

'Can I help you, sir?' said the friendly-looking man working at the till behind the bar. The woman lowered her head again, rea.s.sured.

Pat Rowlinson had not expected customers at all after the storm. Three trees were down in the hotel garden and one chimney pot was lost. He had spent half the morning sizing up damage to the fences and chasing out wallabies from the local woodland colony. Worse than sheep, wallabies. The storm had upset Elizabeth and he hoped that they might have a day off.

'Yes, thank you,' said the Doctor, smiling genially. 'I'd like to book two rooms please. One for myself and another for my young friend.'

'Yes, sir. I don't imagine you've come far today.'

The Doctor looked thoughtful. 'Quite a distance, as it happens.'

Ace leaned in. 'What about a drink. Professor?'

'Why not?' The Doctor scrutinized the rows of bottles behind the bar. 'What have you got?'

Elizabeth Rowlinson smiled as she heard her husband begin his favourite spiel to a new audience.

'What we have sir, is possibly the finest beer in the area, even if I do say so myself. Perhaps the best in the country.'

'Really,' said the Doctor, impressed.

'He makes it himself,' said Shou Yuing as she sat down along the bar by Ace. 'In a converted barn at the end of the garden.'

'It's in the CAMRA guide.' Pat went on. 'We call it Arthur's Ale.'

The Doctor considered for a moment and then said, 'Water please. Straight gla.s.s.'

'It's made from the finest local organically-grown ingredients,' insisted Pat.

'Yes. Gla.s.s of water please. What do you want Ace?'

She was about to risk the ale, but she caught the Doctor's eyebrows furrowing sternly, so she said, 'I'll have a lemonade.'

Pat turned away defeated. Ace felt a nudge on the arm.

'Good choice,' giggled Shou Yuing.

'That bad?'

She nodded.

'Have you got any crisps?' called Ace.