Doctor Who_ Timewyrm_ Exodus Part 16

Ace considered giving him a swift clip round the ear but decided it would be tactless. "I don't think so," she said sweetly. "I'm not really thinking of becoming a film star, that was just a silly joke. My real interests are science and archeology. My uncle and I have just been making a study of the inscriptions on the pyramids, you know. It's a fascinating subject..."

Goebbels hated intelligent women. He murmured a few smarmy civilities and melted away.

Someone called von Ribbentrop turned up next. "I'm Foreign Minister at the moment," he told her pompously. "Such a great responsibility. But my happiest time was as Amba.s.sador to England. Are you familiar with the Court of St James?"

"Not really," said Ace. "Have you ever been to Perivale?"

Goering meanwhile was keeping a keen eye on this mysterious Doctor. He noticed that the newcomer was continually looking around the room. "Can I a.s.sist you, Herr Doktor? I know most people here."

"That man over there - the tall, white-bearded fellow with the cloak and the stick."

"Ah, Doctor Kriegslieter," said Goering instantly. "Do you know him?"

"I'm not sure. He seems familiar, somehow."

Goering was interested in Kriegslieter himself, and suspicious of him too.

"It's unusual for him to be here. He seldom attends social functions. His health's not good, crippled from birth, poor fellow."

"Who is he exactly?"

Goering shrugged ma.s.sive shoulders. "Some kind of mystic philosopher.

The Fuehrer's very taken with him, insists on having him on the platform for all his main speeches. Look, he's coming over."

As if aware of the Doctor's regard, Kriegslieter was limping towards them.

The nearer he got, the stranger he appeared. It was clear that the body beneath the all-enveloping cloak was tragically deformed. He moved surprisingly quickly with an odd, spidery gait - as if there might be eight legs rather than two under his cloak. His head was enormously large and oddly shaped, though the shock of white hair and the bushy white beard helped to disguise the fact.

He bowed when he reached the Doctor. "I hope I do not intrude?" His voice was rich and deep. "I felt I had to permit myself a word with our mystery guest. I am Doctor Kriegslieter."

The Doctor bowed in return. "And I am the Doctor."

"Ah, you are here incognito?"

"I very much hope so."

"And you are a Doctor of?"

"Practically everything," said the Doctor modestly. "And you?"

"My field is the esoteric, the unknown. The Fuehrer is very interested in such things - but then, of course you know him well."

"We met, quite briefly, many years ago," said the Doctor. "I shall be very interested to see in what directions his tastes have developed."

"From the warmth of the Fuehrer's greeting, I thought you must be old friends."

"I was able to be of service to him," said the Doctor. "I hope I may be so in the future."

"We must all serve the Fuehrer, in our different ways," said Kriegslieter.

"Herr Doktor, I am sure we shall meet again." The words sounded curiously like a threat.

"It's very strange," said the Doctor. "I keep getting an odd feeling that we've met before."

"I'm afraid your appearance is quite unfamiliar to me, Doctor," said Kriegslieter. He smiled wryly. "And I'm sure you would have remembered mine."

"I wasn't talking about appearances," said the Doctor.

"Perhaps in some other life, then. Do you believe in reincarnation, Doctor?"

Kriegslieter bowed again and limped quickly away.

Goering had been watching these exchanges with intense curiosity. "What do you make of him?"

"I'm not sure: "Our Fuehrer takes up with such people from time to time, but he usually tires of them. This Kriegslieter has lasted longer than most. Perhaps it's time for a change?"

"Perhaps it is."

"Of course, if the Fuehrer had an adviser of sense and discretion, a man one could talk to, a practical man," said Goering meaningfully. "Have you ever been in the service of the State, Doctor?"

"I suppose I did once hold a semi-official position," said the Doctor. "I was unpaid scientific adviser to a Government security organization."

"In Germany?"

"No, in England: "So much the better, the Fuehrer has great admiration for the English.

Another Aryan race, you know. And in Berlin, such an appointment would certainly not be unpaid. In such a post, a man could do great service to the Reich - and to himself. He could have almost anything he wanted."

"Indeed?" said the Doctor. "Fortunately my wants are few."

"Everybody wants something, Doctor," said Goering jovially. "You must come and visit me at Karinhall. Are you fond of hunting?"

As soon as he could the Doctor pleaded tiredness, and he and Ace were shown to a luxurious two-bedroomed suite, extremely modern in spite of the age of the hotel.

"The Fuehrer always stays here at the Deutscher Hof when he comes to Nuremberg," said the chambermaid proudly. "Of course we had to have the whole place rebuilt to suit him."

When they were alone, Ace looked at the Doctor. "Do we have to go and sit in the bathroom again?"

The Doctor shook his head. "I brought this from the TARDIS."

He produced an old-fas.h.i.+oned pocket watch, opened the back to reveal complex electronic circuitry and a tiny flas.h.i.+ng blue light, shut it and put it back in his pocket. "High-frequency sonic pulse. They're not catching me out again I am now unbuggable!"

Ace yawned. "Good for you, Professor. You were a great social success tonight: "Only because I got hugged by Hitler," said the Doctor with a grimace.

"Everyone was trying to get in with me, to gain the ear of the Fuehrer's favourite. Goering seemed to be offering me some kind of job." He frowned.

"I wonder what he's up to. You know, I got the impression he was badly worried. Worried about Hitler."

Ace was looking thoughtfully at him. "You like it, don't you, Professor?" she said suddenly. "All the lying and cheating and treachery. You even enjoy it."

The Doctor smiled wryly. "Perhaps I do, in a way. You have to remember, I grew up in a society so complex, devious and corrupt it makes this lot look like a kindergarten: "What, you? A Time Lord? I should have thought it was all sweetness and light and high tea in the nursery."

The Doctor shook his head. "When it comes to low cunning and high treason, the n.a.z.is have got nothing on the Time Lords of Gallifrey." He stretched out in an armchair, hands clasped behind his head. "Quite a successful evening on the whole. While I'm in the Fuehrer's favour I'll be at the centre of things, a good place to look around."

"Look around for what?"

"For whoever's controlling the Fuehrer, for a start."

"Any suspects?"

"I met a man called Kriegslieter tonight. The man we saw on the platform."

"I saw you talking to him. He looked really strange."

"He was," said the Doctor. "Strange - and strangely familiar."

As the reception drew to its close, Goering found himself taken aside by Himmler.

I wonder what little Heini wants, thought Goering. He took another swig of champagne. Himmler, who was sipping orange juice as usual, gave him a reproving look.

"This Doctor," he began. "What do you make of him?"

"I'm not sure. What do you think?"

"It is strange," said Himmler. "It is very strange - that anyone could be so close to the Fuehrer, and I not know him."

"I liked him," said Goering. "Quite a formidable personality in a quiet way.

Not very impressive to look at - but still, looks aren't everything, eh Heinrich?"

To Goering's vast amus.e.m.e.nt, Himmler flushed angrily. He was acutely aware of the contrast between his own pot-bellied, short-sighted figure and the blond young giants on the SS recruiting posters.

"I am not in favour of any new entrant to the Fuehrer's circle at the moment." said Himmler meaningfully. "While this problem continues. . ."

Goering nodded. "We can't conceal it for ever, you know. Suppose it happens in public - while he's making a speech?"

"According to Doctor Kriegslieter, the Fuehrer is most vulnerable after a speech, when he is exhausted and his defences are low."

"But the attacks are getting more frequent?"

"Doctor Kriegslieter is confident that they can be controlled, perhaps by the use of hypnotism, if only the Fuehrer will consent."

"He won't," said Goering definitely. "You set great store by this Kriegslieter, don't you?"

"Doctor Kriegslieter is an extremely brilliant man. The work of his Aryan Research Bureau is proving immensely valuable to the SS and to the Reich."

Goering laughed. "It's time you realized the SS is a private army of hired killers - not a mystic order of soldier monks. I've heard what you get up to in that castle of yours. Secret altars, SS chapels.. ."

"National Socialism is a matter of the spirit, not just of the flesh," said Himmler angrily.

"Tell you what, Heinrich, you provide the spirit and I'll provide the fles.h.!.+"

Goering's great belly shook as he hooted with laughter. "Meanwhile, what are we going to do about this mysterious Doctor?"

Himmler shrugged. "If the Fuehrer is determined to befriend him there is little we can do - expect watch him, of course."

"Of course," said Goering mockingly. "But then, you watch everyone -don't you, Heinrich?"

Himmler glared angrily at him, but made no reply.

Goering smiled to himself at the irony of it all. They hated and feared each other, and they were deadly rivals for high office in the Reich, and for the favour of the Fuehrer. However, for the moment they were allies.

They knew, both of them that the continued success of the Reich, their careers, their fortunes, their very lives, depended on one man - Adolf Hitler.

The Fuehrer.

And the Fuehrer was going mad.

3: THE POSSESSED.

Later that same night, a small, thickset, bull-necked little man was hurrying along the corridors of the Deutscher Hof hotel. He paused outside a bedroom door and tapped discreetly. "Herr Doktor?"

A voice called, "Come!"

Since it was now three in the morning, the visitor was surprised to find the Doctor wide awake and fully dressed. He was sitting in an armchair, beneath the circle of light cast by a tall standard lamp. "Yes?"

"I must apologize for disturbing you at this late hour, Herr Doktor. My name is Bormann, Martin Bormann. I have the honour to be Secretary to the Fuehrer."

The Doctor bowed his head but said nothing.

"The Fuehrer -" began Bormann.

" - wishes to see me," concluded the Doctor. "As you see I am ready and waiting."

Martin Bormann gave the Doctor a look of awe. How could he possibly have known? "If you will come with me, Herr Doktor?"

Bormann led the Doctor along silent corridors, then through a door guarded by SS sentries and into a huge shadowy room. It was dominated by an enormous desk on which burned a single reading-lamp. Behind the desk sat Adolf Hitler, signing papers one after the other in a quick nervous scrawl.

As Bormann showed the Doctor in, Hitler signed the last one on the pile, pus.h.i.+ng it aside with a sigh of relief. Bormann hurried forward to take the papers away.

"Ah, my good Bormann," said Hitler. He looked up at the Doctor. "With Bormann I can work through a pile of dossiers in ten minutes that would take me hours with anyone else." He rose, and put a hand on Barman's shoulder. "If I say to him, "Remind me of something in six months" time," I can be absolutely certain he will do it."