Part 37 (2/2)

'Well,' said General Jafrid. 'Right,' said Harmock.

Fritchoff stepped forward. 'First of all, we have to settle the Barclow dispute.'

Jafrid made a conciliatory gesture to Harmock. 'You can have it.'

Harmock made a similar gesture in return. 'No, you can have it. I insist.'

'Secondly,' said Fritchoff, 'and before any decisions are taken on the future of Metralubit, we must discuss and refine in detail the exact nature of the administrative and economic system that will act as the underlying base for those decisions. I move that we orientate ourselves to a socially liberal but state-regulated internal market.'

Harmock shook his head emphatically. 'No, no, no. If we intervene in the affairs of ordinary people as they go about in the reclaiming effort, where will it end? This is a most woolly-minded scheme, Mr Fritchoff:'

'My position is the very opposite of intervention,' said Fritchoff. He waved at Cadinot and the others. 'You're just trying to mould the minds of these people by exploiting their fears for the future, and thus imbuing them with a false consciousness in relation to their position with capital.'

Jafrid coughed loudly, drawing their attention. 'Please,' he said. 'This debate is going nowhere. There is only one course left open to us now.'

And what's that?' demanded Harmock.

'We must take a vote,' Jafrid said simply.

Chapter Twelve - The Official End Of It All.

Stokes dreamt.

A voice, deep and granite-hard, was ordering him to wake up. The deal was not yet done.

Stokes resisted. The appreciation he'd received on Metralubit had been a sham. Why should he listen to the voice again?

The voice reminded him what the screen had shown. He would be appreciated on Dellah. Would he like to go there?

Stokes pondered. Was that possible?

The voice a.s.sured him it was. All he needed to do was set the correct s.p.a.ce-time coordinates on the TARDIS's navigation panel.

Stokes laughed at this. The workings of the TARDIS were quite outside his understanding.

The voice told him it could lend a guiding hand.

And so Stokes woke up, and found his hands wandering over the navigation panels as if he'd been piloting the TARDIS for years.

The data-bank screen now read: DEPARTURE -BARCLOW Humanian Era DESTINATION - DELLAH AD 2593.

Romana was perturbed. The Doctor was pounding back to the TARDIS, hands thrust deep in his pockets, head down, hat pulled over his face, leaving her and K9 to struggle to catch up. The rain was falling again, whipping her cape out behind her and knocking K9 off his bearings from time to time.

'Do we have to go quite so fast?' she protested to the Doctor's back. It was the first time they'd spoken since leaving the survivors of this affair in the valley.

'Why break the habit of several lifetimes?' the Doctor grumbled. 'I must have spent the greatest share of my time since leaving Gallifrey running up and down with barely time to stop and think.'

Romana recognized the signs of impending moodiness and felt rea.s.sured.

She could cope with these occasional bouts of brooding. 'I do hope you're not going to start feeling sorry for yourself.'

He stopped and turned to her. 'That would be predictable, wouldn't it?'

His tone was almost aggressive, and for the first time ever in his company Romana felt threatened. 'Please don't shout at me.'

He looked between her and K9 and managed a tight smile. 'Do forgive me.

It's just that I'm worried, you see.'

'About what?'

He stepped closer and his grave expression returned. 'When you can predict a person's actions it's very easy to lay snares for them.'

K9 whirred impatiently. 'Query these deliberations, Master. We should return to the TARDIS and continue our travels.'

The Doctor looked down at him. He was silent for a moment and then he burst into one of his sudden crazes. 'Yes,' he shouted, 'planet saved, crisis averted, evil menace vanquished. All the questions answered, everything wrapped up.' The sky rumbled as if in reply and another gust of freezing rain swept over them.

'Situation has been resolved, Master,' said K9. 'The people of Metralubit and the Chelonians can exist together. The Hive has been banished.'

Romana laid a comforting arm on the Doctor's shoulder. 'K9's right, Doctor.

I don't see what there is to fret about.'

He walked a short distance away and stared out into nothingness. 'From the moment we arrived here I've felt a powerful unease.'

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