Part 5 (2/2)

The Brigadier turned pale. He cradled his head in his hands.

'Are you all right?'

The Brigadier looked up. 'Someone just walked over my grave.'

'Perhaps it was a Cyberman?' The Doctor looked the Brigadier straight in the eye. 'Or a Yeti... Colonel Colonel Lethbridge-Stewart?' Lethbridge-Stewart?'

The Brigadier's eyes glazed over. The Doctor's hypnotic questioning had transported him a million miles from Brendon School. He was a young man again. He felt the adrenalin flow...

Danger! Darkness and terrible danger... Abominable snowmen in the Underground. Saved from the Yeti by the most snowmen in the Underground. Saved from the Yeti by the most peculiar man with a flute... Who was this 'Doctor?' peculiar man with a flute... Who was this 'Doctor?'

Promoted Brigadier. Seconded UNIT... Enemy in the sewers silver things, bionic monsters. Cybermen! Saved again by the Doctor... Doctor...

Not the Doctor, this ageing dandy with the crimped curls and frilly s.h.i.+rt. Can there be two of them? Regeneration? Impossible! frilly s.h.i.+rt. Can there be two of them? Regeneration? Impossible!

But only one Doctor could destroy the Autons...

Exterminate! Exterminate! What are they, Doctor? Daleks?

No match for UNIT's scientific advisor...

Here we go again, Doctor. Is it really you? The clown? The licensed fool? Jelly babies? Thank you, but no. Where's that licensed fool? Jelly babies? Thank you, but no. Where's that police box gone to now? police box gone to now?

Don't worry, Doctor, we'll deal with that robot. Strike command coming over in four minutes flat. command coming over in four minutes flat.

Alien planet? Don't believe a word of it. That's Cromer out there! Where are you, Doctor? Doctor... there! Where are you, Doctor? Doctor...

The Brigadier opened his eyes. The young man from the obelisk was offering him a cup of tea. Quite a decent fellow really.

'One lump or two?' asked the young man.

'Bless my soul, Doctor,' said the Brigadier, smiling at the latest face. 'You've done it again!'

The girls felt so useless, waiting beside the inert body on the floor of the TARDIS control room.

Tegan could bear it no longer. 'I'm going for help!'

'Where?'

'There's a house in the valley. I'll use their phone.'

'If only we had the zero room.'

'As we haven't, a hospital is the next best thing.' Tegan was already half-way through the doors.

'Take this.' Nyssa felt under the console and withdrew the Doctor's homing device.

'Thanks.' Tegan grabbed the tiny ball. 'I'll be as quick as I can.'

Nyssa walked with her fellow companion to the entrance of the TARDIS and watched her run down the steep path towards the house in the valley below.

No one remained in the control room to observe that the breathing of the injured creature on the floor had become stronger and more regular. No one saw the body stir, a bloodshot eye open and gaze covetously at the TARDIS console.

4.

The Alien in the TARDIS The Headmaster of Brendon School was of the firm belief that excess of leisure could only lead to an unhealthy interest in music or the reading of books for pleasure. Or worse.

Any respite from the cla.s.sroom, therefore, was likely to consist of a lecture on the Bren gun from Sergeant-Major Mobbs, a cross-country run, or a muddy session of licensed hooliganism on the rugger field. June 7th, 1977, however, was a genuine holiday.

Clifford-Smith, Shand and Greenland Minor were on their way to the barbecue on Top Field, when what they saw as they rounded the corner by the tennis courts stopped them in their tracks. To a boy at Brendon, a woman was either one's mother or one's sister. (Both, if possible, to be avoided.) Consequently, the trio stared at the young lady approaching from the lake as if she was some ichthyosaurus that had just crawled out of the water.

Tegan was so out of breath from her dash down the hill that none of the boys could make head nor tail of her story, so it was decided that Clifford-Smith should escort her to the Brigadier.

The Brigadier was terribly upset. What must the Doctor have thought of him? He was also alarmed that such a significant episode of his past should have been blacked out. Perhaps it was connected with the other trouble? He would have to have a word with old Runicman.

Meanwhile, he tried hard to conceal his anxiety from his one-time colleague. 'The Doctor and the TARDIS. How could I ever forget!'

'Exactly.'

'What?'

'The mental block. There must be some reason, some trauma...'

'The Brigadier felt his hackles rising. The Doctor was starting to sound like one of those confounded shrinks.

'Some shocking experience. Maybe an induced effect?'

The Brigadier's lip curled. 'I don't scare quickly, Doctor. Nor do I succ.u.mb easily to brainwas.h.i.+ng techniques.'

The Doctor ignored the unaccustomed bitterness in the Brigadier's voice. 'If there was a way of tracing back how far the inhibition goes, you could get some treatment...'

Had the Doctor dropped a match in the petrol tank of the old Humber there would not have been a more violent explosion.

'Treatment!' roared the Brigadier. 'Treatment!' He spat the hated word out in disgust. 'There's nothing wrong with me, Doctor!'

<script>