Doctor Who_ Loving The Alien Part 38

'We're going to Trafalgar Square. Come with us if you like.'

'Sure,' said Rita. 'I fancy a stroll.'

Trafalgar Square seemed unusually crowded with people. Jimmy honked and struggled to navigate the car between the crowds and out into Whitehall. Crawhammer hadn't been very hard to trace he was almost a celebrity in these dark hours.

'What made you change your mind?' asked the Doctor?

'I'm sorry...?' Limb queried.

'About starting a war.'

'Oh, I sensed larger events in the wind, Doctor. Alien technology...

the fact that you had appeared... it gave me grounds to hope that there might be another way to avoid my fate. I don't relish the prospect of nuclear war, you know.'

'I wish I knew what was going on,' said the Doctor. 'I don't suppose there's a radio in here.'

'A wireless... no.'

'No..: said the Doctor, then slapped himself on the forehead. Or rather yes, there is.'

He lifted Ace's Walkman from his pocket and, ostentatiously keeping it out of Limb's view, put the headphones on and fiddled with the dial. A sombre, resolute voice emerged from the static.

'We interrupt this programme with a live newsflash.'

It was odd. Stan and Elsie seemed just like any other English pensioners, but Rita had seen through Stan's thinning pate the two tiny metal-lined holes that sank like fang-marks into the back of his skull.

'So you looking forward to the speech?' Rita asked, fis.h.i.+ng again.

'Of course, Elsie replied. 'Aren't you?'

'Must be something important, said Stan. 'Middle of a Sunday.'

They reached Trafalgar Square without incident. Everyone seemed 181 relaxed and friendly. No one was in a hurry. 'All Things Bright and Beautiful' wafted through the doors of St Martin-in-the-Fields.

As distant Big Ben sounded eleven o'clock, the church fell silent and the congregation flooded out and down the great stone steps of the church. There was suddenly frenzied movement all around Rita people poured into the square from all sides. She felt the crowd pus.h.i.+ng her away from her elderly friends, sweeping her into the square. She stumbled and went down next to one of the lions, and cowered against its ma.s.sive stone plinth.

A voice boomed out across the square, somewhere over Rita's head.

'We now take you live to the Ministry of Augmentation, where the prime minister is about to speak. The prime minister' prime minister is about to speak. The prime minister'

Instantly the hubbub in the square was stilled. Everyone stood motionless and silent, facing towards the source of the voice.

Another voice took over, sage and old, powerful and rea.s.suring.

'Citizens of the British Empire...'

'How much longer do we have to stay here?' McBride demanded, slouching into Drakefell's lounge. 'The screwball's still asleep. I gave him a coupla sleeping pills '

'Ssss.h.!.+' hissed Sarah Eyles. She was staring at the TV 'It's the prime minister.'

' government and I, in close concert with our American allies, yesterday demanded of the Soviet government in Moscow certain yesterday demanded of the Soviet government in Moscow certain explanations, undertakings and a.s.surances with regard to the recent explanations, undertakings and a.s.surances with regard to the recent escalation of aggression towards this country, beginning With the escalation of aggression towards this country, beginning With the shooting down of our Waverider rocket and culminating in the recent shooting down of our Waverider rocket and culminating in the recent attack by Russian forces on British soil. It is now my duty to tell you attack by Russian forces on British soil. It is now my duty to tell you that Mr Khrushchev's government has responded by issuing a blanket that Mr Khrushchev's government has responded by issuing a blanket denial of any wrongdoing and by accusing Her Majesty's government denial of any wrongdoing and by accusing Her Majesty's government of fabricating the incidents.' of fabricating the incidents.'

'Old Macmillan's shovelling it on,' said McBride, perching on the settee next to Sarah.

'We're too late, aren't we?' she suddenly said. 'The Doctor and Uncle George they never made it.

McBride felt Sarah grab his arm and draw him close to her. He put an arm round her and held her tight.

'Another war,' she whispered. 'I lost everyone in the last one.

Everyone except Uncle George...'

McBride held her tighter. He didn't know what to say.

' a threat to our freedom and our way of lift, indeed to our very survival, but one that we can and shall overcome.' survival, but one that we can and shall overcome.'

182.

Rita struggled to her feet. She recognised the voice but she was sure it wasn't Harold Macmillan. She gasped for the first time she noticed the huge gla.s.s screen that covered the front of Admiralty Arch.

It was the biggest TV set Rita had ever seen. The face of the speaker filled the screen. It wasn't wasn't Harold Macmillan. It was the man from the cottage the man who had appeared to interrogate her. Harold Macmillan. It was the man from the cottage the man who had appeared to interrogate her.

'It is a threat we have prepared for over many years, and a threat we are more than ready to deal with. BEHOLD MY WORKS, YE are more than ready to deal with. BEHOLD MY WORKS, YE MIGHTY, AND TREMBLE!'

There was a whoos.h.i.+ng in the air all around Rita. She covered her ears and craned her neck skyward. Planes weird-looking craft were flying in from all sides. Something was happening overhead. A cracking, booming sound, like the sky tearing open...

A great gash of light pouring into the sky from... somewhere else.

Rita could see, dotted around the giant gash, machines of some kind.

They must be huge...

The s.h.i.+ps, the planes, were flying into the light in their dozens, being swallowed whole and endlessly.

'It seems we are too late, Mr Limb,' the Doctor said. 'Even now '

He was interrupted by a sound. An explosion a boom that shook the car and cracked the windows.

'Holy sweet Mother of G.o.d...' whispered Jimmy. 'What is that that?'

The sky was a rip of white light, almost from end to end, through which flying craft by the dozen were pouring. Some fanned out and jetted away in different directions. Others swooped low over the streets. Explosive projectiles raked over the heads of pedestrians, who began to panic and run, trampling each other, fighting.

And then, from the s.h.i.+ps, came men, descending as if on invisible parachutes, soldiers, black-and khaki-clad, heavily armed with weapons of lethal sophistication. Just like at the hangar, but on an immeasurably greater scale.

One landed on the road in front of them. Jimmy fumbled beneath the dashboard and pulled out a pistol.

The Doctor laid a restraining finger on the boy's shoulder. The soldier spun round in a lightning blur, his rifle pointed directly at them.

'I suggest we raise our hands,' the Doctor said.

'Never to a Russian!' spat Jimmy.

'Look at the markings on his sleeve, young man,' said the Doctor testily.

'What?'

'Three feathers,' cut in George Limb, puzzled. 'The Welsh Guards.'

183.

'n.o.body would listen to me,' wailed the Doctor. 'Everybody was so convinced it had to be the Russians. The Russians are about the only innocent parties in all this. They know next to nothing about what's going on. 'You've been pa.s.sing secrets to a far more formidable foe, Mr Limb. Now you have crossed them, and I suspect have caused them to bring forward their invasion plans.'

'Who, Doctor?' said Limb urgently.

'The British, Mr Limb. The British.'

184.

PART FOUR.

Chapter Twenty.

'Citizens of London, brave and loyal soldiers, lay down your arms! We do not come to wage war upon you, but rather to save you from war. do not come to wage war upon you, but rather to save you from war.

You stand upon the brink of nuclear Armageddon, brought about by nothing other than your own fear of shadows. nothing other than your own fear of shadows.

'We are not Russians and we are not Communists. We are British.

We are your brothers, and we come in friends.h.i.+p.

'Allow me to introduce myself. My name is George Limb, and it is my honour and privilege to serve as prime minister of the United my honour and privilege to serve as prime minister of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland and of His Majesty's colonies Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland and of His Majesty's colonies and dominions overseas. The Britain that I serve is not this one, but and dominions overseas. The Britain that I serve is not this one, but another, existing invisibly alongside this one. It is a Britain that has another, existing invisibly alongside this one. It is a Britain that has conquered disease, conquered poverty and achieved lasting, secure conquered disease, conquered poverty and achieved lasting, secure peace. These are the gifts we bring to you. I say again, lay down your peace. These are the gifts we bring to you. I say again, lay down your arms. We bring only peace!' arms. We bring only peace!'

Half a dozen black-and-white screens went blank, fading to static. The Doctor, Limb and Jimmy had abandoned their car and were huddled in front of a small television and radio shop off Trafalgar Square. The soldier had lost interest once Jimmy had fumbled the gun, and they had bolted from the car.

All around the Doctor could hear car horns and gunfire, the screams of hundreds of people. The sky was lit by the flickering from the energy tear, and troops dropped like black snowflakes onto the streets of London.

He stared carefully at the lined face of George Limb. For a man who had just learned that the people he was working for were from an alternative reality and who had just been confronted with an alternative version of himself from from that reality, he was remarkably calm. that reality, he was remarkably calm.

Limb blinked slowly. That long, languid blink that made him seen'

almost reptile-like The Doctor s.h.i.+vered. He could almost see the man's mind at work, plotting, scheming, taking in everything that was playing out before him and a.n.a.lysing it, working out how best to use it to his advantage. He turned away from the flickering television sets and smiled at the Doctor.

186.

'Ah, well, at least I was outwitted by someone whose intellect I respect. My... other self seems to have done remarkably well for himself...'

The Doctor felt a wave of anger.

'Whereas you appear to have made a monumental mistake.'

Limb frowned. 'Oh, come now, Doctor, I think that you are being a little unfair. I will admit that I was unprepared for the fact that my Russian friends were in fact nothing of the sort, but the overall effect isn't spoiled by that fact. No, this adds a certain... balance to the proceedings. Yes..? Limb pursed his lips and nodded. 'Yes, I have to say that I find this development quite... amusing..?'

'Amusing?'

The Doctor grasped Limb by the arm of his jacket and spun him roughly to face the shattered street.

'Look around and tell me what you see is amusing!'

People were running blindly, unable and unwilling to comprehend what they were seeing. The huge flickering tear in the sky cast long dancing shadows across the streets, a noise like a giant crisp bag being rustled echoing across the rooftops. Vast needle-pointed aircraft hung like barrage balloons over the city, searchlights blazing down, lighting up the rain and sweeping across the terrified crowds. Small triple-winged fighters swooped though the searchlight beams, droning like bees. The sky was thick with parachutes, wave after wave of troops landing on the streets of London.

The Doctor turned on Limb his eyes blazing.

'These people have been through a war already, seen their city destroyed, struggled and sacrificed to get their lives back to some semblance of normality. They should be shopping for Christmas presents, Spending time with their loved ones, not running for their lives again. No one can possibly benefit from this!'

'So where do you propose we go now?'

'South,' said the Doctor.

'On foot?' Limb asked.

The traffic was at a standstill, abandoned by terrified drivers and pa.s.sengers.

'Unless you have any better suggestions.'

'Well, we could always take the Underground.'

General Crawhammer gripped the pearl handle of his Smith and Wesson automatic and pumped round after round into the line of men advancing along Lambeth Palace Road.

Major Bill Collins shook his head in disbelief. The general actually 187 seemed to be enjoying himself. When the tear had opened up in the sky the general had been as awestruck as the rest of them, but as soon as the first troops had appeared, as soon as he had had the first glimpse of an enemy that needed fighting, he had been nothing short of magnificent. He'd rallied the few troops in the Ministry of Defence building and tried desperately to round up more support. No telephone or radio set was working.

'G.o.dd.a.m.n Reds jamming 'em!'

He'd dismissed the bizarre claims they'd heard on the radio out of hand.

'Commie propaganda, Collins! They're tryin' to confuse us.'

Collins had led a small reconnaissance group onto the roof. The skies across London were full of descending paratroops. s.h.i.+ps hung in dark cl.u.s.ters like storm clouds. They had all the city's barracks pinned down.

'Why don't the Limeys fight back?' Crawhammer had growled.