Read Online Doctor Who: Space War by Malcolm Hulke - Free Book Online
Authors: Malcolm Hulke
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your life as a traitor to your planet.’
The Doctor’s mind flashed on for less than a second. The optic nerve registered the picture of a green snout and pale green eyes looking down at him. Then blackness returned; he felt he was swimming in a sea of thick, dark oil.
A voice said, ‘The Earthman is recovering. Come and look.’ Feet moved on a highly polished floor. Voices mumbled. The blackness gave way to light. Slowly the Doctor opened his eyes. He now saw four green snouts, eight pale green eyes. He was sitting in a chair with arms; he moved his hands and feet slightly —there were no restraining straps or ropes. He looked up at the Draconians and managed a smile.
‘How nice of you to invite me. Have I been spirited away to Draconia?’ He looked about the room, noted the false impression of curved walls. ‘No, I’d say this is the Draconian Embassy on Earth, tarted up to look like Draconia. Where’s Jo?’
The Draconian First Secretary spoke. ‘Your companion is still with your fellow Earthmen.’
The Doctor didn’t bother to point out that he was a Time Lord and not an Earthman. ‘Do you people realise what you’ve done? You’ve finally convinced them that we’re both Draconian agents.’
‘We know,’ hissed the Draconian Ambassador, ‘that you are both agents of the Earth Government, part of some plot against our Empire. You are working for General Williams. He hates our people. He is employing you to create tension among the people of Earth, to overthrow your own President, to bring the present crisis to a state of war.’
The Doctor looked up into the Ambassador’s nostrils with astonishment. ‘My dear chap, what a complicated mind you have. The ones trying to create war are the Ogrons—or at least the people behind them.’
Neither the Ambassador nor the First Secretary seemed to take the slightest notice of this last remark. The Ambassador continued, ‘Tell me the details of the General’s plot, so that I can expose him to your President. ‘There is still a chance of peace. We have mind-probing machines just as efficient as those used by Earthmen. Either you speak now or we shall force you.’
‘Can’t you believe that you’re on the wrong track?’ asked the Doctor. ‘There is a plot but the Earth people aren’t behind it, any more than you are.’
The Ambassador stepped back. ‘Take him away.’ Two guards moved forward to grab the Doctor.
The Doctor smiled disarmingly. ‘There’s really no need to lay your claws on me, gentlemen. I’ll go with you quietly.’ Pretending to be about to rise from the chair, the Doctor suddenly thrust forward with his feet on the floor, pushed the chair over backwards, performed a somersault, sprang to his feet and darted for the french windows. One of the guards raised his blaster gun, its adjustment set to kill.
‘No.’ commanded the Ambassador. ‘Don’t shoot.’
The Doctor sprinted across a formal lawn, surprising an elderly Draconian gardener busy watering the flowers. Embassy guards gave chase, but the Doctor had a good start. He made for the concrete wall at the end of the lawn, scaled a tree, and dropped over the wall into the road outside the Embassy grounds. The road, lined with blank walls, ran as far as his eyes could see in a dead straight line. A small tubular hover-car, all black except for a chromium bumper, came hurtling down the road at high speed. The Doctor stepped forward and waved his hands to attract the driver’s attention. As the vehicle approached he saw it had no driver. Only then did he realise it was making straight for him. He flattened himself against the wall. It pulled up directly in front of him, a mounted television eye on its roof turning to ‘look’ at him.
A metallic voice spoke. ‘Get in.’ A door in the side of the vehicle slid open.
‘What if I refuse?’ said the Doctor.
‘You cannot refuse,’ said the voice. ‘You have nowhere to run to. Get in or be destroyed.’ A slender tube
The Doctor’s mind flashed on for less than a second. The optic nerve registered the picture of a green snout and pale green eyes looking down at him. Then blackness returned; he felt he was swimming in a sea of thick, dark oil.
A voice said, ‘The Earthman is recovering. Come and look.’ Feet moved on a highly polished floor. Voices mumbled. The blackness gave way to light. Slowly the Doctor opened his eyes. He now saw four green snouts, eight pale green eyes. He was sitting in a chair with arms; he moved his hands and feet slightly —there were no restraining straps or ropes. He looked up at the Draconians and managed a smile.
‘How nice of you to invite me. Have I been spirited away to Draconia?’ He looked about the room, noted the false impression of curved walls. ‘No, I’d say this is the Draconian Embassy on Earth, tarted up to look like Draconia. Where’s Jo?’
The Draconian First Secretary spoke. ‘Your companion is still with your fellow Earthmen.’
The Doctor didn’t bother to point out that he was a Time Lord and not an Earthman. ‘Do you people realise what you’ve done? You’ve finally convinced them that we’re both Draconian agents.’
‘We know,’ hissed the Draconian Ambassador, ‘that you are both agents of the Earth Government, part of some plot against our Empire. You are working for General Williams. He hates our people. He is employing you to create tension among the people of Earth, to overthrow your own President, to bring the present crisis to a state of war.’
The Doctor looked up into the Ambassador’s nostrils with astonishment. ‘My dear chap, what a complicated mind you have. The ones trying to create war are the Ogrons—or at least the people behind them.’
Neither the Ambassador nor the First Secretary seemed to take the slightest notice of this last remark. The Ambassador continued, ‘Tell me the details of the General’s plot, so that I can expose him to your President. ‘There is still a chance of peace. We have mind-probing machines just as efficient as those used by Earthmen. Either you speak now or we shall force you.’
‘Can’t you believe that you’re on the wrong track?’ asked the Doctor. ‘There is a plot but the Earth people aren’t behind it, any more than you are.’
The Ambassador stepped back. ‘Take him away.’ Two guards moved forward to grab the Doctor.
The Doctor smiled disarmingly. ‘There’s really no need to lay your claws on me, gentlemen. I’ll go with you quietly.’ Pretending to be about to rise from the chair, the Doctor suddenly thrust forward with his feet on the floor, pushed the chair over backwards, performed a somersault, sprang to his feet and darted for the french windows. One of the guards raised his blaster gun, its adjustment set to kill.
‘No.’ commanded the Ambassador. ‘Don’t shoot.’
The Doctor sprinted across a formal lawn, surprising an elderly Draconian gardener busy watering the flowers. Embassy guards gave chase, but the Doctor had a good start. He made for the concrete wall at the end of the lawn, scaled a tree, and dropped over the wall into the road outside the Embassy grounds. The road, lined with blank walls, ran as far as his eyes could see in a dead straight line. A small tubular hover-car, all black except for a chromium bumper, came hurtling down the road at high speed. The Doctor stepped forward and waved his hands to attract the driver’s attention. As the vehicle approached he saw it had no driver. Only then did he realise it was making straight for him. He flattened himself against the wall. It pulled up directly in front of him, a mounted television eye on its roof turning to ‘look’ at him.
A metallic voice spoke. ‘Get in.’ A door in the side of the vehicle slid open.
‘What if I refuse?’ said the Doctor.
‘You cannot refuse,’ said the voice. ‘You have nowhere to run to. Get in or be destroyed.’ A slender tube
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