Part 17 (1/2)

Up until that point, Oscar had felt sure he could go through with this. But that was the voice of Jackie Strebbins, a sound he'd come to respect and fear. He told himself there was an alien under her hat, and steeled his resolve.

'This isn't you, Commander, and I am ordering you to stop.'

Commander Strebbins's face went blank for a second.

Oscar guessed that the Vykoid under her hat was radioing back for advice. Oscar could see the Vykoids were moving to circle him. If he did shoot Commander Strebbins, he knew he would quickly be made into one of their puppets.

Commander Strebbins's features abruptly twisted into a contemptuous sneer. 'Go ahead and shoot,' she said.

219.

Strebbins spread her arms out in front of her. Totally defenceless. The easiest target Oscar had ever been given.

Oscar didn't know what to do. The sight of surrender stunned him. He would need the stab of self-belief to be able to pull the trigger, and it was deserting him.

Then Strebbins took her hat off, revealing the Vykoid beneath. 'Shoot me, shoot her, take your pick,' the tiny creature shouted.

Oscar was appalled to see the tiny troll lording it over Commander Strebbins. He felt the rage building back up inside him. The Vykoid was apparently finding it so easy.

'There are hundreds of us.' the little figure taunted. 'What difference does it make if one of us dies. We'll still take your people.'

This was the extra push he needed, and Oscar began to squeeze the trigger. Then stopped. In training, Oscar had shot dozens of silhouettes and dummies. He was well practised in raising his gun to threaten or to silence. It was a way of establis.h.i.+ng power, not doling out justice. In his time as a police officer he'd never fired a furious bullet. The anger inside him felt wrong. He was part of law enforcement. Not the law itself.

Commander Strebbins lifted her head, and looked Oscar in the eye. 'We took your city, without a life being lost. Now I see why!' She began to laugh.

220.

THE FORGOTTEN ARNY.

'You're a coward. Just like the rest of your stinking, lumbering race.'

At this, Oscar tightened his grip on his gun. 'Don't say that. Stop laughing!'

But Strebbins's scorn increased. 'Look at you, all uniform and protocol and swagger. But you can't execute me. You need to see someone's back before you shoot. That's the problem with you big clumsy beasts. Too occupied with the small picture.'

Oscar met Strebbins's mocking gaze. The blood throbbed in his head, and his ears were ringing with adrenalin. He wanted to do the right thing. But what was it? What should he do? Whatever was on her head, Strebbins was a person and she'd done nothing wrong. She'd be an innocent casualty.

He lowered the gun, and shut his eyes, waiting for the Vykoids to come and take him.

Not content to stay at home when all the action was out on the streets, Polly had taken her cla.s.s and broken in through the bas.e.m.e.nt entrance of Trump Tower. They'd climbed up the service stairs, and smashed their way onto the roof. Now, lying on her belly on the roof, Polly could see the madness of the city below.

On every cross street, a line of police officers marched forwards, herding confused and scared New Yorkers in front of them. Riding on top of an armoured vehicle, Commander Strebbins broadcast 221.

to the crowds with a loudhailer, her words becoming clearer as she drew closer.

'... terrorists on the streets ... bombs in the Subway ... need to stay out in the open ... Every building is sealed until we can be sure that the threat has pa.s.sed. Until then, we ask that you remain in the open. Please give law enforcement officers your full cooperation, we will keep you informed of any developments. There are terrorists on the streets of New York...'

Polly was struck dumb by the magnitude of what was happening. How had her fellow New Yorkers become so scared of the unseen that they followed the most bizarre commands without protest? Did everyone think deep down that they deserved to be scared?

From so high above, the city looked like a colony of ants was being steamed out into the open. Black dots converged on Broadway from every street in New York. People seemed only too eager to follow the commands of Strebbins and her men - too focused on the unknown horror to realise what they were being asked to do.

Polly prayed for a miracle. The people she loved were being rounded up, and she couldn't do a thing to stop it. She watched as the crowds, only too happy to accept an unnamed threat, shuffled and gossiped as they marched into the Vykoid trap.

222.

And across New York, every radio station, every television programme, every possible means of communication broadcast the same message: 'Follow the police to safety. The invisible menace will not defeat us! New York will not surrender! Broadway is the nominated muster station until further notice. I repeat, Broadway is the only street to have been cleared of terrorist devices.'

223.

Chapter.

21.

The mammoth clambered out of the Hudson onto Liberty Island and stood dripping beside the base of the Statue of Liberty.

Sam squeezed back into the head of the mammoth. 'What now?'

'We go up, close down the Time Freeze and stop them teleporting most of Manhattan into slavery.' the Doctor replied.

'How do we do that?'

'Oh, just wait and see.'

'No, go on, tell me,' Sam asked. 'I've just swum the Hudson in an extinct animal. I think I can handle it.'

'He probably doesn't know yet,' Amy confided. 'Best not to ask.'

225.

'Winston Churchill.' the Doctor said, to Amy's surprise.

'Winston always said he didn't want there to be a statue of him, because the pigeons would, you know, cover it in their mess. When he died, they built one anyway, and they did something extraordinary. They electrified it, so no bird would come near it.'

'Yeah? So what? We've got a city to save, don't start going all Simon Schama on me.'

'Look at this statue.' The Doctor tilted the mammoth's head back so they were staring right to the top of the Statue of Liberty. 'There's not a bird in sight. I don't think they cut the power. I think they've been using it.'

As soon as the Doctor had pointed it out, it seemed horribly obvious. Flocks of seagulls circled around the bay and turned away in the sky above Liberty Island as if they'd been shocked.

'What's it made of, Sam?' the Doctor asked.

'Steel and copper.'

”That.' said the Doctor, 'is 240 tonnes of battery. Wow, when that thing discharges, New York is going to fry.'

'What do we do?' Amy asked.