Doctor Who_ Timewyrm_ Exodus Part 18

"What?"

The Doctor hesitated. "I never got round to telling you, Ace, but I had a rather similar experience in the false 1951, when I was looking up history changes in the archives."

"Proves my point, Professor! You're a r.e.t.a.r.ded teenager too."

The Doctor said sternly, "Who do we know who's raving mad, racketing through s.p.a.ce and time, and obsessed with causing trouble?"

"Apart from you, you mean?"

"Ace!"

"All right, all right, the Timewyrm. But if it is her, why aren't we seeing more of her - not that I want to, mind you," she added hastily. "But why isn't she attacking us, or destroying the world or something? Why all this "now you see me, now you don't" stuff?"

"I'm beginning to suspect, Ace, that she isn't in control. I think she may be in some cyclic-recurrent phase system at present. If so it won't last, it can't be stable. Either she'll get a better grip on things and have a real go at us, or she'll fly off in fragments all over the void. The latter, I hope."

"So what you're saying, Professor," said Ace, "is that the Timewyrm's racketing round the cosmos like an out-of-control tube train on the Circle line. She gives us a buzz when she zips through our station, then she's off again till the next time?"

"Well, as an explanation of a highly complex psycho-kinetic-spatio-temporal phenomenon, it's a bit on the simplistic side - but, roughly speaking, yes."

"So what do we do?"

"Well, I still think it isn't just the Timewyrm we're dealing with - so we learn as much as we can about what's going on here. This is the point where history must have changed, remember."

"And keep our heads down next time the Timewyrm comes round?"

"Exactly!"

"Well, as a plan for tackling a highly complex psycho-kinetic-spatio-temporal phenomenon it sounds a bit simplistic to me," said Ace sleepily, "but I suppose it'll have to do. I'm going back to bed."

4: HITLER'S GUESTS.

MEMO TOP SECRET.

...and the increasing instability of the Subject is endangering the success of the Project. I myself was always of the opinion that the sources of his immensely powerful psychic energy levels should have been more closely investigated before final selection. Since his power sources are beyond our knowledge, their imminent breakdown, if that is indeed what is happening may be beyond our ability to control. It is vital that the Subject's condition is constantly monitored. I further recommend that arrangements be put in train for his removal and replacement if necessary. In my view the most suitable candidate for an alternative Subject...

Martin Bormann was having a busy morning. There was always a great deal to be done at the end of a Nuremberg rally. The party officials had to be ferried back to Berlin, the VIPs amongst them on the special Fuehrer train. Bookings to be made, bills to be paid, limousines to be ordered, local Party officials to be thanked . . .

This year there had been extra problems. A team of workmen to repair and redecorate the Fuehrer's suite, at top speed and in total secrecy. And two entirely unexpected guests as well, the mysterious Herr Doktor and his niece, if that was what she was. Accommodation on the Fuehrer's train, a suite in a first-cla.s.s Berlin hotel...

Not that Bormann begrudged the effort, not at all. He prided himself on his ability to cope with emergencies, and difficulties melted away at the mention of the Fuehrer's name. If the Herr Doktor could be of help to the Fuehrer, no effort was too great. As the Fuehrer's train pulled out of Nuremberg station, Martin Bormann was tucked into a cubbyhole office in the guard's van, clipboard in hand, checking and re-checking that nothing had been forgotten. His mind went back to the two unexpected visitors.

They'd need pa.s.ses as well, and expense money. He made a note on his clipboard.

The Doctor and Ace, meanwhile, sat in comfortable armchairs in a private sitting-room, watching the countryside flash by, with deferential SS waiters to bring anything they needed.

"Does himself well, doesn't he, your mate Adolf ?" said Ace.

"This is nothing. You should see Ribbentrop's train, that's much flas.h.i.+er.

And as for Goering's, I gather it's a palace on rails."

"You mean they've all got private trains?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Trains, country houses, jewels, art treasures, clothes, cars -and huge fat bank accounts. They're not in politics for their health, you know."

"What a collection of crooks," said Ace. She took another sip of champagne. "And we're getting just as bad. I'm getting a taste for this stuff.

I'll lose all my street cred if this keeps up."

"Comes of mingling with the mighty," said the Doctor. "You've stumbled on a universal truth, I'm afraid. On any planet, in any galaxy, in any time zone - the people on top do all right for themselves."

Ace leaned back in her chair. "Well, it's a tough job but someone's got to do it. Ring for some more caviar, would you, Professor?"

Clipboard in hand, Martin Bormann stood on the crowded platform of Berlin station, checking his departure list. The Fuehrer had left, so had Goering, Goebbels, von Ribbentrop and Himmler, whisked away by Mercedes limousines to their various Chancelleries, Ministries and offices. So there only remained... He turned and saw the Herr Doktor and his niece patiently waiting. He hurried towards them. "A thousand apologies, Herr Doktor."

"Not at all," said the Doctor amiably.

"If you will come with me? I will see you to your hotel." He led them to an SS limousine which whisked them from the swastika-draped station, past swastika-draped buildings, and into a swastika-draped luxury hotel, the Hotel Adlon. Here Bormann was greeted with great deference, and under his supervision they were soon comfortably installed in the usual luxury suite. Fis.h.i.+ng inside a bulging briefcase, Bormann produced generous amounts of spending money, and identification papers in the name of Doctor Johann and Fraulein Schmidt.

"The papers are valid for Berlin only," he said apologetically. "If you are found elsewhere, you will be arrested. I should advise you to remain in or near the hotel - the Fuehrer wishes the Herr Doktor to remain available for consultation at any time."

"I suppose our wishes don't come into it," said the girl.

"Naturally not," said Bormann approvingly, pleased at her rapid grasp of the situation. "As always, the Fuehrer's will is paramount."

The girl looked strangely at him but made no reply overawed, no doubt, by the Fuehrer's name. Bormann bowed, and took his leave.

"Old Adolf can take his chances as far as I'm concerned," said Ace when Bormann had gone. "I'm not sitting staring at the walls."

"Quite right," said the Doctor. "Let's go and take a look at Berlin - while it's still here."

It was a fine sunny day and soon they were strolling down the tree-lined Unter den Linden. Ace looked round the pleasant summer scene. Young couples were strolling under the trees, off-duty soldiers wandered round enjoying the suns.h.i.+ne and looking for pretty girls. If one ignored the ever-present swastikas and SS stormtroopers, it was a happy, normal scene.

"What did you mean, Professor, back in the hotel - when you said we should see Berlin while it was still here?"

The Doctor stopped by a kiosk and bought a selection of newspapers. He read out the headlines. "Warsaw threatens bombardment, unbelievable agitation of Polish war madness, Poland against peace in Europe." He showed the papers to Ace who flicked rapidly through them. "According to this lot it's Poland's picking the fight!"

The Doctor sighed. "These are n.a.z.i papers, Ace - the only kind there are here now. All this is actually the opposite of the truth. Hitler's determined to invade Poland. Very soon there'll be war. In six years this city will be a heap of rubble."

Ace looked at him in horror. "You've got all this influence with Adolf - can't you stop it?"

Suddenly the Doctor grabbed Ace's arm and pulled her into a shop doorway.

"Hey, what's happening?" she protested.

The Doctor pointed. A squad of SS men was marching down the street, carrying the usual ma.s.sive swastika banner.

"So there's a parade? So what?"

"Better stay here, Ace, I just don't see you saluting the flag."

Ace realized that as the swastika banner pa.s.sed by, everyone in the street came to attention. All the men saluted and took off their hats.

All except one.

A burly workman was standing at the kerb. As the banner went by he stood there, hands in pockets, cigarette in mouth, cap on head, ignoring the parade. But the parade didn't ignore him. At a shout from the sergeant in charge, it crashed to a halt. Half a dozen men broke ranks and swarmed over the workman, beating him to the ground in a hail of fists, kicking his body as it lay curled up in the gutter. The squad reformed and marched on. No one said anything, no one protested, no one even seemed to see.

After a bit the workman got painfully to his feet, spat out what looked like a tooth, wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand and stumbled away.

"Did you see that, Doctor?" said Ace. "A real thumping, just because he didn't salute their rotten flag."

"He was lucky," said the Doctor.

"Lucky!"

"They could have kicked him to death, or shot him down in the street, and no one would have said a word."

"Oh, come on," protested Ace. "There must be some law and order, even in n.a.z.i Germany."

"n.a.z.i Germany is a criminal state. What's right, what's legal is whatever the Party wants to do - and that means whatever Hitler wants to do."

Ace was silent, still trying to take it in.

"You said something earlier about my stopping the war," said the Doctor grimly. "It's the war that will destroy this evil regime. My first problem is to make sure the war happens. The second is to make sure they don't win."

He sighed. "Let's try and forget about them for a bit. We'll go and sit in the park."

But even in the park there was no escape.

They were sitting on a bench in the Tiergarten when Ace saw a shabby printed notice on the back. She read it out loud.

"No Jews!" Ace looked at the Doctor in horror. "They're not allowed to sit on park benches?"

"They're not allowed to do a lot of other things," said the Doctor. "Run businesses, practise the professions, have their own money or property.

Most of the real persecution is over by now. The beatings-up, the smashed shop windows, the burning synagogues..."

"You mean they've stopped doing it?"

"Well, yes, I suppose you might say that. But only because there's no one left to do it to. Most of those that didn't leave the country are dead or in prison camps by now. That notice is out of date."

As they walked through the park the Doctor went on, "It's not just the Jews, you know, though they got the worst of it. Gypsies, h.o.m.os.e.xuals, trade unionists, intellectuals - anyone a bit different, anyone they don't like the look of."

"What happened to them all?"

"Dead, a lot of them, or in concentration camps."

"But the war hasn't even begun yet."

"They've had concentration camps in Germany for six years, ever since the n.a.z.is came to power. Up to now they've been persecuting their own people, fellow Germans. They're just about to start on the rest of the world."

5: DAY OF RECKONING.

I am wrongly judged if my love of peace and my patience are mistaken for weakness or even cowardice. I have therefore resolved to speak to Poland weakness or even cowardice. I have therefore resolved to speak to Poland in the language Poland uses to us. Last night, for the first time, Polish in the language Poland uses to us. Last night, for the first time, Polish soldiers fired on our territory. We have been returning the fire. From now soldiers fired on our territory. We have been returning the fire. From now on, bombs will be met with bombs! on, bombs will be met with bombs!

From Adolf Hitler's speech to the Reichstag on the invasion of Poland.

Two days after Hitler sent his armies into Poland he summoned the Doctor.

It happened just after breakfast. Ace was finis.h.i.+ng her coffee while the Doctor read out to her gloomy bits from the papers, which were full, of course, of the news of Hitler's brilliantly successful invasion.

The Doctor looked up. "There's a report of Hitler's speech to the Reichstag here. Apparently he said from now on he's just a simple soldier of Germany, and he won't take off his soldier's coat till the war is won."

"Bully for him," said Ace. "It'll be getting pretty smelly in six years."

It was a fine Sunday morning, and Ace was wondering whether to bother going out. She'd lost her taste for sightseeing.

Somehow the sign on the bench had upset her even more than the brutality they'd seen in the streets. The Doctor's gloomy p.r.o.nouncements hadn't helped either. Despite the suns.h.i.+ne, Berlin seemed more and more like a city of ghosts. It was all the worse because the ghosts didn't know they were dead yet.

She still hadn't decided what to do when Martin Bormann appeared in the doorway, quiet and deferential as ever. "The Fuehrer wishes to see you at the Chancellery, Herr Doktor. The car is waiting."

Ace jumped up.

"Just the Herr Doktor, Fraulein," said Bormann patronizingly. "These are serious affairs of state - men's affairs."

Ace drew a deep breath. "Now listen, mate.. . "

"Steady on, Ace," said the Doctor hurriedly. "n.a.z.ism equals s.e.xism, I'm afraid. Church, kitchen and kids, that's a woman's natural sphere. Isn't that right, Herr Bormann? Sorry, Ace. I'll be back as soon as I can. Better stay in the hotel."

Before she could work up a proper protest, the Doctor bustled the bewildered Martin Bormann out.

If there was one thing Ace hated, it was being left out of things. n.o.body wants me -and everyone's telling me what to do, she thought furiously. She was pacing about, trying to decide whether or not to go out just to show them, even though she didn't really want to, when there was a discreet tap at the door. A hotel servant entered with an envelope on a silver tray.

"It is for the Herr Doktor."

"You've just missed him. He's popped down to the Chancellery to give Adolf some advice." Enjoying the man's horrified expression Ace went on, "Leave it with me; I'll see he gets it as soon as he gets back."