Part 18 (1/2)

As he left, the Doctor said, 'I think a quiet word with Sergeant Benton might be in order.'

'Going to tell him about my funny turn, are you?' said the Brigadier.

'Not at all,' said the Doctor, though he looked guilty. 'In view of the circ.u.mstances, I think it might be wise to a.s.sess the current state of the troops.'

The Brigadier regarded him shrewdly for a moment, then gave a concessionary nod. 'Yes, good idea.'

Offering a brief smile, the Doctor got out of the car and went round to the pa.s.senger side of the jeep. 'Do you think I might have a private word with you, Sergeant?' he asked.

Benton looked surprised. He regarded the Doctor as a good friend, but it was not often the Time Lord confided in him.

'Yes, of course,' he said and got out of the jeep. 'Is everything all right, Doctor?'

The Doctor led him a few yards away from the jeep and regarded him gravely. 'How are you feeling, Sergeant?'

Benton frowned. 'You mean since eating the fish yesterday?

This infection thing?'

'Precisely.'

Benton considered for a moment. 'Not too bad. I've been having one or two odd thoughts, but I think I'm holding things together pretty well.'

'Good man. And the troops? How are they?'

'A bit edgy. I'm having to give them constant pep-talks to stop them losing concentration.' He shrugged. 'Some are worse than others, mind you. Around a dozen or so have had to be confined to sick bay.'

The Doctor patted Benton on the arm. 'Keep fighting it, Sergeant. You're doing a splendid job.' His voice dropped, even though they were out of earshot of both the jeep and the Brigadier's car. 'The Brigadier's not too good, I'm afraid. I'm not sure how much longer he can keep going.'

Benton puffed out his chest. 'I'll try and keep an eye on things for you at this end, Doctor. You just find a way to beat these things.'

They returned to their respective vehicles, and reached the fairground without further incident. UNIT and the local police had done their job well. The place was deserted, the rides silent. As the car approached the gates, where a lone UNIT sentry stood guard with his rifle clutched in his hands, the Doctor said wistfully, 'There's nothing quite so sad as an empty fairground.'

'Or so eerie,' said Tegan from the back.

They stopped beside the sentry. Tegan noticed that the Brigadier, who had been slumped in his seat for the last couple of minutes, was making a concerted effort to pull himself together. She had liked him the first time she had met him, had sensed a kind heart beating beneath his stern exterior, but now she felt a surge of real affection. He was trying so hard to be the leader his men expected him to be.

Winding down his window the Brigadier leaned out. 'What's the situation, Corporal Manning?' he asked, sounding as strong and alert as ever.

Manning blinked groggily at the Brigadier and swayed slightly as if he was about to pa.s.s out. 'Corporal Manning!'

the Brigadier snapped. 'Pull yourself together, man!'

Immediately Manning jerked to attention. Fl.u.s.tered he said, 'Sorry, sir. The... erm... creature's taken refuge in the Ghost Train, sir. Some of the lads have got the place surrounded. It can't escape.'

'Excellent,' said the Brigadier. His voice softening just a touch, he added, 'Make sure you keep your wits about you, Corporal.'

'Yes, sir,' Manning said. 'I will, sir.'

'Good man. Now where's this Ghost Train?'

'It's all right. I know,' said the Doctor.

The walkways between the rides and stalls were wide enough for the Brigadier's car to lead the UNIT convoy in single file. They pa.s.sed the Waltzer and the Log Flume, the Klondike Gold Mine and a looping construction of white tubes that bore the legend: THE TOBOGGAN RUN. The Ghost Train was situated between the Wall of Death and the Viking Longs.h.i.+p, and was housed in a tall rectangular building made to look like it was covered in dripping green goo. Its flbregla.s.s, bas-relief surface was further enhanced by a giant rotting-fingered mummy, a witch leaning over a bubbling cauldron, a dayglo-yellow skeleton with a single eyeball hanging from its socket, and a spiky-haired werewolf baying at a cheesy sliver of moon.

A trio of UNIT marksmen was standing guard outside the Ghost Train, one training his gun on the entrance, one on the exit and one hovering in between, ready to give a.s.sistance wherever needed. The two access points were marked by black double-doors, each painted with the huge, grinning head of a snake-haired woman. Three cars in the shape of giant skulls stood b.u.mper to b.u.mper outside the entrance.

The marksman in the middle turned as the UNIT convoy approached. The Brigadier's car drew up, and in the time it took for Tegan to reach gingerly for the door handle (her ribs still aching from being slammed into the door during their near-crash), the Doctor had leaped out. As the Brigadier, Tegan and Turlough joined him he finished speaking to the UNIT marksman and turned back towards them.

'Do you have any torches, Brigadier?' he asked, breathless with the nervous urgency that always radiated from him at the prospect of action.

The Brigadier seemed momentarily thrown by the question.

'Um... Benton!'

'Yes, sir?' said Benton, hurrying over.

'Do we have any torches?'

'Yes, sir. We should have.'

'Distribute them among the men, would you, Sergeant?' the Doctor said. 'Then organise them into two groups for a two-p.r.o.nged attack. I suggest that you lead one of the groups and the Brigadier and I will lead the other.'

'Couldn't we just ask someone to turn the lights on in there?' suggested Tegan.

'We could if our Xaranti friend hadn't disabled the power supply,' said the Doctor. 'He seems to prefer the darkness.'

'Terrific,' Tegan muttered.

'Oh, I wouldn't worry about it if I were you,' the Doctor said, 'particularly as you and Turlough will be waiting for us out here.'

'I don't think so,' responded Tegan hotly, ignoring Turlough's expression of relief.

'Tegan, there isn't time to argue,' said the Doctor bluntly.

'There's no point in you and Turlough putting yourselves at risk for no reason.'