Doctor Who: BBC Past Doctor Adventures [036] - Independence Day by Peter Darvill-Evans

Author:Peter Darvill-Evans
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science-Fiction - Doctor Who
ISBN: 9780563538042
Publisher: BBC Books
Published: 2000-10-13T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

The trees here were so unlike those of his home world. Bep-Wor held a thin branch in his hand and studied it: a maze of brown, woody stems, from which green leaves sprouted.

Nothing like the giant cycads he was used to, which blocked the sun’s rays and made slabs of black shadow on the soil.

These small leaves scattered the sunlight.

He used his hand to shield his eyes as he peered between the trunks of the trees. The men he had posted as sentries at the edge of the spinney were still in position. The rest of the group was sitting and lying under the trees. The Doctor – where was the Doctor?

Bep-Wor found the Doctor pacing back and forth at the edge of the woods.

‘Come further in, Doctor,’ he called. ‘You can be seen out there.’

The Doctor scrambled across a barrier of thorns. ‘We should move on, Bep-Wor,’ he said, tugging his trouser legs free. ‘We found a stream for everyone to wash in. We found a place to stop and eat. Now we’ve found the farm. Let’s proceed.’

Bep-Wor led the Doctor to a gap between the trees, through which they had a view of the farmhouse, nestling in the valley below them, surrounded by barns and other outbuildings. ‘I can tell you’re not a former,’ Bep-Wor said.

‘Look, Doctor: the farm itself is deserted. There may be a few workers in the kitchen or the livestock sheds, but on a fine day such as this almost everyone will be out in the fields. You can see them: there, and there. And earlier I saw a party going over the brow of that hill.’

This was the largest farm Bep-Wor had ever seen. As far as he could tell, all the land between the hills on the horizon and the wooded hill on which he stood was part of one estate.

All around the farm buildings the countryside had been divided into a patchwork of fields: some contained grazing animals, some were rippling with growing crops, and others were recently ploughed.

‘The sun is descending,’ Bep-Wor pointed out. ‘Summer days are short on this world. We’ll see the workers return from the fields. Then we’ll go down to the farm.’

‘Very well,’ the Doctor agreed. ‘I suppose there’s not much point in making a social call while no one’s at home. Are you going to wear that uniform? You’re not exactly up to parade-ground standard, you know.’

Bep-Wor stroked his chin as he looked down at the uniform he was wearing. He hadn’t shaved for almost a week, and his stubble was becoming a beard. The tunic was too big for him, and the trousers were too short: the soldier he’d stripped had been stocky.

‘No one would take me for a native anyway,’ he said. ‘As soon as I speak I’ll betray myself as a Two. You’ll have to do the talking, Doctor. You’re good at that.’

Later, as the last long shadows merged into a chill dusk, the Doctor and Bep-Wor led the escaped prisoners

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