Doctor Who: BBC Past Doctor Adventures [024] - The Final Sanction by Steve Lyons

Author:Steve Lyons
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science-Fiction - Doctor Who
ISBN: 9780563555841
Publisher: BBC Books
Published: 2000-04-13T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

‘Come on, Doctor, pick up the pace!’

The Doctor wailed in protest as Redfern gripped his shoulders and steered him into the small room which housed the T-Mat equipment. He dropped his rifle and stooped to retrieve it, nursing the weapon as if it might go off in his hands. Redfern had insisted that he carry it, despite his objections. The Doctor was also, through necessity, clad in a TSF uniform with an oxygenerator pack. He wore most of his own clothes beneath it, but there had been no room for the jacket. However, he had retrieved a ball of navy blue wool, two screwdrivers – one normal, one sonic – his recorder and a green apple from the pockets. He was fumbling for empty pouches into which to fit them.

The Doctor didn’t appreciate being made to display military insignia. He wished he had had time to dig one of his lightweight wetsuits out of the TARDIS. But Redfern had moved the preparations along hastily, and he had not been able to get to his ship unseen.

He had slipped the TARDIS key into one boot of his uniform, for safekeeping.

The reconnaissance team numbered nine all told. Also present in the crowded room were two console operators and Lieutenant Michaels. ‘Ah, Lieutenant,’ the Doctor beamed, ‘I wonder if you might do me a favour? I didn’t have time to say goodbye to my friend, Jamie.’

‘Doctor!’ Redfern was glaring at him with disapproval.

The Doctor looked back at Michaels, hopefully. With a glint of amusement in his eye, the lieutenant gave him a slight, furtive nod.

‘All right, men,’ barked Redfern, ‘move out. First two to the cubicle.’

Still juggling his possessions, the Doctor stepped forward.

Redfern placed a steadying hand on his arm. ‘Not yet, Doctor.’

The Doctor smiled wryly to himself. Redfern probably expected him to run to the Selachians, given the chance.

Two privates stepped into the clear-fronted T-Mat cubicle, almost filling it between them. They stood back to back, rifles at the ready.

‘I must say,’ said the Doctor, cheerfully, ‘it was very clever of you to smuggle T-Mat terminals on to Ockora under the Selachians’ noses – ah, metaphorically speaking, of course. I wonder if they even know you’ve brought the old system out of mothballs? I do hope you’ve addressed some of its problems.’

Lights flashed and machinery whined and, suddenly, the cubicle was empty. ‘Splendid!’ The Doctor tried to clap his hands together, but aborted the gesture as his apple almost rolled on to the floor. ‘Now, who wants to go next?’

Nobody answered. Everybody was still staring at the cubicle.

The Doctor frowned and craned his neck for a better view.

The cubicle whined again, apparently of its own volition.

Nothing else seemed to happen.

Redfern yanked open the door, went down on one knee and picked up a flat, white disc. He displayed it briefly to the rest of the room before flipping it to Michaels, who caught it.

‘Ah, I see,’ said the Doctor. ‘A signal that the first party found no surprises down there.’ He

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