Doctor Who: Players: 50th Anniversary Edition

by Dicks, Terrance

  The Commandant waited until the Doctor and Churchill had finished their protests. He was a wiry little man with a stiff leg, sun-baked skin, bristly grey hair, and steel-rimmed glasses. He didn’t look, thought Peri, like a man who could be fooled, bluffed or frightened.

  He wasn’t.

  ‘Lies,’ he said. ‘Deliberate, shameless, calculated lies!’

  The Doctor and Churchill glared indignantly at him. Both opened their mouths to protest, but the Commandant waved them to silence.

  ‘That will do, gentlemen. You have had your say. Be good enough to sit down and be quiet.’

  With identically aggrieved expressions, the Doctor and Churchill sat. The Commandant surveyed them coldly, like a teacher dealing with two particularly delinquent pupils. He turned first to Churchill.

  ‘You, Mr Churchill, took an extremely active part in the defence of the train. It was largely as a result of your efforts that the engine itself escaped our capture. We are short of engines!’

  ‘I naturally did my best to escape from so perilous a situation, and save my life,’ growled Churchill. ‘My conduct was the same as any of the civilian railwaymen – and they have been released!’

  The Commandant sneered. ‘More lies! You rallied the troops, you organised the unblocking of the line. You carried a revolver, and were seen to use it. If you were unarmed when captured, it was only because you had contrived to lose your weapon.’

  Churchill lapsed into a sulky silence. His lower lip stuck out in a pout. He looked, thought Peri, like an oversized angry baby.

  ‘Your countrymen have chosen to make a hero of you,’ the Commandant went on. ‘The English papers are full of your exploits at the train.’

  Churchill cheered up immediately, preening himself a little. ‘Indeed? That is most gratifying.’

  ‘My Government considers you a very dangerous prisoner,’ said the Commandant coldly. ‘You will certainly not be released. Indeed, you will be fortunate if you are not shot.’

  Churchill’s face fell.

  The Commandant turned his attention to the Doctor.

  ‘As for you, Doctor John Smith, your conduct is puzzling indeed. You appear from nowhere, and you wander onto a battlefield like some idle tourist, endangering the life of this young lady. For some reason, you chose to aid the prisoner Churchill in his efforts.’

  ‘As a doctor, I was engaged in a humanitarian mission, helping the wounded,’ protested the Doctor. ‘And may I point out that I was most certainly not armed. I never carry weapons, I don’t approve of them.’

  ‘You drove the engine, sir,’ thundered the Commandant. ‘You engaged in an act of war!’ He calmed himself. ‘Then there is the matter of this mysterious blue box. You refuse to open it, and it defies the efforts of our engineers. Does it contain weapons?’

  The Doctor said nothing.

  ‘The box bears the word “Police”,’ said the Commandant. ‘Are you a member of the English police force?’

  ‘Certainly not!’

  ‘The box is clearly a piece of police equipment. Either you are an English policeman and an enemy of the Boer State, or you are a thief, and an enemy of society. In either case, prison is the best place for you. We shall hold you here, Doctor, until you and the box give up your secrets!’

  The Commandant turned to Peri and spoke more gently. ‘Your case, Miss Brown, is rather different. You are female, and have a claim on our chivalry. Whatever the English say, we Boers are not barbarians. Moreover, you are American, a citizen of a neutral country and one with which my Government wishes to maintain good relations. Therefore, I am prepared to release you, and to arrange passage back to your native country.’

  Peri had a sudden nightmare vision of being shipped back to the America of – when were they? 1899! Fighting back her panic, Peri managed to shake her head calmly. ‘Thank you, but no.’

  The Commandant was amazed. ‘You do not wish to be released?’

  ‘I couldn’t think of leaving without my guardian, the Doctor,’ said Peri firmly. ‘Unless you let him go you’ll have to keep me here as well.’

  The Commandant rose, his patience evidently entirely spent. ‘There is no provision here for female prisoners. I am sure after a few days here you may be willing to change your mind. Until then, we clearly have no more to say to each other. I bid you good day. Sentry!’

  The armed guard outside the door came in and took the three of them away. He escorted them to the playground, which was filled with strolling groups of prisoners.

  When he was out of earshot, Peri looked at her two companions.

  ‘Well, that didn’t do you much good!’

  ‘I never thought it would,’ said Churchill cheerfully. ‘However, the effort had to be made.’

  ‘Quite right,’ confirmed the Doctor. ‘Always worth trying a bluff. Sometimes they even work!’

  ‘The Commandant was quite right, wasn’t he?’ said Peri.

  ‘What about?’

  ‘You were both lying your heads off in there. “Harmless non-combatant! Humanitarian mission!”’

  ‘Well, of course we were,’ said the Doctor. ‘No point in half measures.’

  ‘Love and War, you know, my dear young lady,’ said Churchill.

  Something else they had in common, thought Peri. When it suited them, they both showed a complete lack of scruple.

  ‘Only one thing for it,’ went on Churchill. ‘We must escape! Are you with me, Doctor?’

  ‘Well, in spirit certainly,’ said the Doctor.

  Churchill looked disappointed. ‘In spirit only? I had hoped that we might engage in this hazardous enterprise together.’

  ‘It might be best if we split up for the actual escape,’ said the Doctor hurriedly. ‘Less chance of getting caught, you know!’ He turned to Peri. ‘You’ll probably have a bit more liberty than we will. Do you think you could possibly –’

  ‘Find out where they’re keeping the TARDIS?’ Peri nodded and looked ruefully down at her sombre and dusty clothing. ‘I’ll make eyes at one of the guards.’

  Churchill was looking puzzled. To distract him, Peri said, ‘That was a pretty long train ride, Mr Churchill. How far are we from anywhere that would be safe for you?’

  Churchill considered. ‘The nearest neutral territory is Portuguese Mozambique.’

  ‘And how far away is that?’

  ‘About three hundred miles!’

  ‘Quite a stroll,’ said the Doctor drily.

  ‘You have some alternative scheme, Doctor?’

  ‘It’s not fully worked out yet,’ said the Doctor hastily. ‘Now, I suggest we all lie low for a day or so. We’ve made ourselves rather conspicuous, and we need to lull the Commandant’s suspicions. We must pretend we’re resigned to being prisoners. And we must meet only casually. It won’t do to look as if we’re plotting together.’

  Winston Churchill heaved a sigh. ‘I shall endeavour to follow your advice, Doctor. But it will not be easy. Do you realise, I shall soon be twenty-five? Twenty-five! And what have I achieved in life? A few years of military service, a failed attempt at politics, a brief career as a war correspondent. I refuse to rot in this prison for the remainder of the war.’

  ‘No, no, of course not,’ said the Doctor soothingly. ‘Just a little patience, is all that is required. We must bide our time. Now, as I say, we’d better separate.’

  Churchill nodded, and strode away.

  ‘He’s going to be quite a handful,’ said Peri.

  The Doctor nodded. ‘At least I can try to keep an eye on him while we’re in here.’

  ‘In case he does something rash?’

  ‘In case someone tries to kill him,’ said the Doctor. ‘There’s been one attempt already, remember. There may well be another.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  PLANS AFOOT

  FOLLOWING THE DOCTOR’S advice, the three inmates saw little of each other over the next few days.

  Conditions, although far from luxurious, were not intolerable. Prisoners
had a reasonable amount of liberty inside the school and in its grounds. Accommodation and food were simple but adequate. The main enemy was boredom.

  The prisoners were allowed to subscribe to the Transvaal State Library. Winston Churchill had signed up, telling the Doctor that he hoped to improve an education which had not progressed very far at Harrow and Sandhurst.

  ‘My scholastic performance was not distinguished, Doctor,’ he said wryly. ‘It was a time of discomfort, restriction and purposeless monotony.’

  ‘Not unlike prison?’ suggested the Doctor.

  Churchill smiled. ‘Yes indeed, Doctor. For one who has endured the horrors of an English public school, a Boer prison can hold few terrors!’

  All the same, it was clear that Winston Churchill did not intend to endure prison for any longer than he could help. The Doctor noticed that he spent a great deal of time with his friend, Haldane, the officer with whom they’d been captured, and a certain Sergeant-Major Brockie. They were often to be seen with their heads together and it was perfectly clear to the Doctor that they were plotting escape. He just hoped it wasn’t equally obvious to the prison authorities.

  One warm South African evening, as they strolled around the playground, the Doctor confronted Winston Churchill with his suspicions and Churchill owned up quite cheerfully.

  ‘Aylmer Haldane and Brockie plan to escape over the wall,’ he said. ‘I am endeavouring to persuade them to allow me to join them.’

  ‘And what will you do, once you’re over?’

  ‘We shall walk to Portuguese Mozambique.’

  ‘All three hundred miles?’

  ‘There is no alternative.’

  ‘Sounds a harebrained scheme to me,’ said the Doctor frankly.

  ‘Perhaps so, but it is the only one available to us,’ said Churchill. ‘Besides, Brockie comes from Johannesburg and speaks fluent Dutch. That will be of great assistance to us.’

  ‘When do you make the attempt?’

  ‘It is not yet settled. At the moment they are reluctant to include me in the scheme.’

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘The objections come from Brockie.’

  ‘What’s he got against you?’

  ‘Nothing at all.’ Churchill did his best to look modest. ‘He feels, however, that the escape of so distinguished a captive as myself will be the sooner noticed – and the resultant hue-and-cry all the more vigorous.’

  ‘He may have a point.’

  Churchill shrugged. ‘Perhaps so. But I am determined to join them all the same. I am confident that my friend Aylmer will overcome Brockie’s objections. I was forced to remind Aylmer that he owed a good deal to my efforts at the train – yours too, of course, Doctor.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said the Doctor, hurriedly. ‘You’re welcome to any credit that’s going!’

  Like Peri, he noticed Winston Churchill’s unscrupulous streak. No hesitation about moving in on someone else’s escape plan – or about about trading upon an old friend’s feelings of obligation. Just do whatever had to be done to achieve your aims. He smiled faintly. Perhaps it was a characteristic of all great men.

  ‘How are your own plans progressing, Doctor?’ asked Churchill.

  ‘I’m not quite sure,’ said the Doctor. ‘It all depends upon my ward, Miss Brown.’

  Winston Churchill gave him a disapproving look. ‘Surely you are not proposing to entrust the hazards of an escape plan to a young lady? Even if she is an American.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll take care of any dangerous bits,’ said the Doctor cheerfully. ‘It’s just that I need certain information first. And Peri’s rather better equipped than I am to obtain it.’

  *

  ‘It seems such a little thing to ask,’ said Peri.

  She opened her eyes appealingly wide, fluttered her eyelashes, and sighed gustily.

  On the other side of the railings, Field-Cornet Oosthuizen found himself hypnotised by the rise and fall of the white cotton blouse. He blushed and looked away.

  A very young and inexperienced officer, Oosthuizen had distinguished himself by actually capturing the notorious Winston Churchill.

  Now he had been retained at the prison, on temporary attachment to the squad of prison guards. He had soon noticed the beautiful young American girl who spent so much time peering sadly through the railings that barred her way to freedom, and they had fallen into the habit of having a little chat every evening after he had inspected the sentries.

  ‘My poor guardian is so worried,’ Peri went on. ‘He’s a scientist, you see.’

  ‘A most distinguished one, I’m sure,’ said young Oosthuizen gallantly.

  ‘He’s spent years travelling all over South Africa, collecting specimens, fossils, native art-work, all kinds of valuable things. It’s all stored in that box.’

  ‘I see,’ said Oosthuizen thoughtfully. ‘The box is a kind of specimen case?’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Peri. ‘His life’s work is in that blue box!’

  ‘Forgive me, but why does it have “Police Box” written on top?’

  ‘Er – camouflage,’ said Peri.

  ‘Camouflage?’

  Maybe the word hasn’t been invented yet, thought Peri. ‘It’s an American expression,’ she said hastily. ‘It means “disguise”. You see, my guardian thought that if the case had “Police Box” written on it, it would deter possible thieves. He’s rather unworldly, I’m afraid.’

  Oosthuizen nodded sympathetically. ‘And what is it you want me to do?’

  ‘If we could just visit the box,’ pleaded Peri. ‘He and I together. Just let us look inside, so my guardian can assure himself his specimens are unharmed. It would mean so much to him.’ She sighed again. ‘And to me.’

  Reluctantly Oosthuizen looked away. Then he shook his head.

  ‘I’m afraid I couldn’t do that. Not without the permission of the Commandant.’

  Peri sighed again, genuinely this time. She hadn’t really expected that part of her scheme to work. Taking a deep breath she moved rapidly to Plan B.

  ‘Then let me ask you something else. If you could take a look at the box yourself…’

  Oosthuizen looked puzzled. ‘That, perhaps, would be possible. But why? What could be the point?’

  ‘If you could just tell me where the box is, and check that it’s unharmed, I could reassure my guardian. He’s making himself positively ill worrying about it. Once he knows the box is safe, he’ll be able to stop fretting.’

  Field-Cornet Oosthuizen bowed. ‘I will see what I can do, dear lady.’

  ‘Thanks, you’re a sweetie,’ said Peri anachronistically. She stretched her hand through the bars.

  Oosthuizen pressed it fervently to his lips, then turned and marched away.

  ‘I think he fell for it,’ Peri reported to the Doctor later. ‘There’s a good chance he may tell me tomorrow night.’

  ‘Well done, Peri.’ The Doctor squeezed her arm. ‘I’m sure I can find a way of getting out of here. I’ve broken out of tougher jails than this. But it will be a great help if we can make straight for the TARDIS instead of having to search the whole place for it.’

  ‘When do we go?’ asked Peri.

  ‘We’ll go as soon as we know where the TARDIS is,’ said the Doctor. ‘Young Winston’s planning some kind of breakout as well.’

  He told her of Churchill’s scheme to join Haldane and Brockie’s escape plan.

  ‘I think we’d better try and go first,’ he concluded. ‘After a successful escape they’re sure to tighten up security, and that will add to our problems.’

  ‘The same thing goes for Churchill and his friends if we go first,’ Peri pointed out. ‘We don’t want to screw things up for them.’ She paused. ‘Do we? Did they escape from here so soon?’

  The Doctor held up his hands hurriedly, obviously keen to avoid this conversation, or having to think of the possible ramifications. ‘Maybe we should all go on the same night. Several escapes to handle at once will confuse the
guards.’

  ‘So when is he going?’

  ‘He’s not quite sure. But if we get the information we need and Winston persuades his friends – it could all be happening tomorrow night.’

  The next evening the Doctor met Winston Churchill just after what passed for dinner. It was obvious that the man was in a state of high excitement. The Doctor assumed Haldane’s escape plan was going ahead – but the reason for Churchill’s excitement was quite different.

  ‘Come with me, Doctor,’ said Churchill excitedly. ‘I have something extraordinary to show you.’

  He led the Doctor to the cubicle, partitioned off from a school dormitory, that served as his bedroom. It contained an iron bedstead, a table with jug and wash basin, and a chair. Churchill dived under the bed and emerged with a large brown paper parcel.

  ‘I found this on my bed just before dinner,’ said Churchill. He opened the parcel, revealing folds of rough brown tweed. ‘It contains a suit of civilian clothing, a leather bag holding one hundred sovereigns – and this!’

  Churchill fished inside the parcel and produced a pistol – a Mauser automatic.

  ‘Good grief!’ said the Doctor.

  ‘And there was this,’ said Churchill. He produced a sheet of writing paper and passed it to the Doctor. ‘The paper contains a sketch-map of the prison perimeter. One point on the perimeter, in fact the, er, latrines, is marked with an X. Beside the X is written a time. Eight p.m.!’ He looked expectantly at the Doctor. ‘Is it not splendid?’

  ‘Perhaps. Personally I find it rather suspicious.’

  ‘Suspicious, Doctor? Why so?’

  ‘Don’t you think it’s all rather convenient? A little too good to be true?’

  Churchill looked at him in outraged astonishment. ‘I am somewhat at a loss to understand your meaning, Doctor.’

  The Doctor’s wave took in the parcel, the paper and the gun. ‘How do you account for all this?’