The Face of the Enemy by David A. Mcintee

Author:David A. Mcintee [Mcintee, David A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, General, Media Tie-In, Fiction
ISBN: 9780563405801
Google: QKcBAAAACAAJ
Amazon: 0563405805
Publisher: BBC BOOKS
Published: 1998-02-14T08:00:00+00:00

‘As you were so keen to go, it can hardly be that dangerous,’ the Brigadier reminded him.

‘True. . . Unless my apparent eagerness was a double-bluff, of course. Or do you mean to say that you’re foolish enough to trust me?’

The Brigadier’s moustache quivered. ‘Everyone does some foolish things in his time. I expect I won’t be an exception.’

The Master quite liked that. The Brigadier was inferior, of course, but a worthy and honourable adversary all the same.

‘Besides,’ Lethbridge-Stewart went on, ‘you still need something from me.

I’ll admit I’m not entirely sure what it is, but you can’t risk losing it, can you?’

The Master was momentarily thrown. Was it possible that the Brigadier had guessed the truth? ‘I have my reasons, if that’s what you mean. Believe me, I’m not staying just for the company.’

Abruptly, before the Brigadier could give his inevitable retort, a very dusty and grimy Chesterton, Yates, and Benton materialised at the rear of the compartment. The trio promptly collapsed, and the Master leapt forward and deftly caught the demat box before it hit the ramp; if it broke, he might never get his TARDIS back. He gave the device a quick check while the Brigadier and Corporal Bell called for help for the three men.

Barbara tried venturing outside when she found a door that led out of the building, but hastily returned inside; the air was filled with windblown grit that stung her eyes, and tasted of warm sand. She had eventually found her 179

way to the uppermost floor in the building. Though it was at the top of the stairwells, and there were no further stairs that she could find, the top floor seemed essentially to be at ground level. Surprisingly small windows were set in deep recesses in the walls, with thick glass separating the inside of the building from the dust storms and shattered rock outside.

The landscape looked like it could be terrestrial – perhaps Iceland, or one of the stony South American deserts – but the sky told a different story. There surely could never be a sky full of dust and grit like that on Earth. Even in the sandstorm she had once faced in the Gobi desert, the blown dust was low-level, not mixed in with the highest clouds.

She knew from her history books that a volcanic eruption on the scale of Krakatoa could produce something of an effect like this, but surely scientists would have detected warning tremors from a volcano about to blow – and that would have been on the news.

There were a pair of doors at the far end of the hallway, which had glass panels she could look through. Monochrome TV monitor screens were arrayed on consoles all around, and at the centre, was a large colour projection screen of the sort Barbara had seen in newscasts from Cape Kennedy. In fact the room was very reminiscent of NASA’s ground control, though the rows of workstations were slightly curved to leave a circular space in the middle.

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