narrow little backstreet. As the truck negotiated the tricky corner into the yard, Ratcliffe found himself whistling Wagner.
In the back, with the rest of his men, was the Hand of Omega. Now he knew he had something to bargain with.
Now he could ask for the world.
For months ‘it’ had nestled in the corner of his office.
He had just walked in one day and found it there masked by shadow – a vague mechanical shape, a voice that gave him secrets. It gave him secrets and the promise of power.
He stepped down from the truck.
‘Charlie?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Get the damn thing off the truck and put it over on the trestles.’
‘But it’s cold,’ said Charlie.
‘So wear your gloves.’ Charlie was loyal, but a few coupons short of a pop-up toaster.
Ratcliffe slammed the sliding door over and went into the warehouse. There was a musty smell from the racks of timber – he hadn’t done much work recently. He hadn’t needed to, what with the money ‘it’ had supplied. He opened the door to his office and entered.
‘We have the Hand of Omega,’ he said. ‘It’s out in the yard.’
‘Excellent.’
Ratcliffe sat down at his desk and picked up the telephone receiver. ‘I’ll tell my man. After all, he found it for us.’ He sat back in the chair and watched as the phone dialled itself.
The sun had broken through the clouds, splashing light across the playground. Four soldiers were piling up sandbags by the front door. Ace glimpsed khaki boxes stacked against the wall. One big box was open, revealing a long tube nestling in straw. A recoilless anti-tank gun, she thought, classy.
‘If this place is so out of the way of the action,’ she asked the Doctor, ‘what are we all doing here?’
‘I want to keep an eye on the group captain,’ said the Doctor. He pushed open the doors.
The entrance hall was full of noise. Field telephone cables snaked across the floor, disappearing through doorways. A soldier was nailing up signs indicating the operations room, the mess, and one crudely lettered
‘KHAZI’. Down the hall someone was swearing in a foreign language. Ace peered past a group of soldiers hefting ammunition boxes to see Rachel. She was gesticulating at two soldiers who were trying to lift a huge box of electronics up the back stairs. Allison was watching her colleague with an astonished expression. There was a smell of packing straw, sweat and overboiled tea.
Rachel ran out of Yiddish profanities and resorted to glaring at the privates’ backs. Allison was wincing every time the computer banged against the floor.
‘This is stupid,’ said Rachel, ‘where’s Sergeant Smith?’
‘I can see Ace,’ said Allison.
‘We want to move the thing,’ said Rachel, ‘not blow it up.’
‘There he is.’
Mike emerged from a classroom. He saw Ace and stopped. His eyes followed her as she disappeared up the stairwell. ‘He fancies her, doesn’t he?’ said Allison.
‘It’s her Aryan looks.’
There was a loud crash from behind them and the sound of delicate electronics breaking. Rachel didn’t bother to turn round.
‘Allison?’
‘Yes?’
‘How’s your mental arithmetic?’
‘This reminds me of parties I used to go to,’ said Ace. She was sitting on the stairs with the Doctor. From below they could hear the sound of frantic military activity. ‘They’re really busting a gut down there.’
‘That’s the general idea,’ said the Doctor. ‘I want to keep the military fully occupied and out of the way.’
‘Out of the way of what?’ Ace kicked at a bit of loose paint on the wall. ‘Professor, you promised, remember?’
‘A long time ago, on my home planet of Gallifrey, there was a stellar engineer called Omega...’
The prelaunch checks were complete. Omega settled his big frame into the shock webbing. The sound of the big engines could be heard despite the capsule’s layers of shielding.
‘What’s Rassilon doing?’ Omega asked the other with him.
‘Going over the
In the back, with the rest of his men, was the Hand of Omega. Now he knew he had something to bargain with.
Now he could ask for the world.
For months ‘it’ had nestled in the corner of his office.
He had just walked in one day and found it there masked by shadow – a vague mechanical shape, a voice that gave him secrets. It gave him secrets and the promise of power.
He stepped down from the truck.
‘Charlie?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Get the damn thing off the truck and put it over on the trestles.’
‘But it’s cold,’ said Charlie.
‘So wear your gloves.’ Charlie was loyal, but a few coupons short of a pop-up toaster.
Ratcliffe slammed the sliding door over and went into the warehouse. There was a musty smell from the racks of timber – he hadn’t done much work recently. He hadn’t needed to, what with the money ‘it’ had supplied. He opened the door to his office and entered.
‘We have the Hand of Omega,’ he said. ‘It’s out in the yard.’
‘Excellent.’
Ratcliffe sat down at his desk and picked up the telephone receiver. ‘I’ll tell my man. After all, he found it for us.’ He sat back in the chair and watched as the phone dialled itself.
The sun had broken through the clouds, splashing light across the playground. Four soldiers were piling up sandbags by the front door. Ace glimpsed khaki boxes stacked against the wall. One big box was open, revealing a long tube nestling in straw. A recoilless anti-tank gun, she thought, classy.
‘If this place is so out of the way of the action,’ she asked the Doctor, ‘what are we all doing here?’
‘I want to keep an eye on the group captain,’ said the Doctor. He pushed open the doors.
The entrance hall was full of noise. Field telephone cables snaked across the floor, disappearing through doorways. A soldier was nailing up signs indicating the operations room, the mess, and one crudely lettered
‘KHAZI’. Down the hall someone was swearing in a foreign language. Ace peered past a group of soldiers hefting ammunition boxes to see Rachel. She was gesticulating at two soldiers who were trying to lift a huge box of electronics up the back stairs. Allison was watching her colleague with an astonished expression. There was a smell of packing straw, sweat and overboiled tea.
Rachel ran out of Yiddish profanities and resorted to glaring at the privates’ backs. Allison was wincing every time the computer banged against the floor.
‘This is stupid,’ said Rachel, ‘where’s Sergeant Smith?’
‘I can see Ace,’ said Allison.
‘We want to move the thing,’ said Rachel, ‘not blow it up.’
‘There he is.’
Mike emerged from a classroom. He saw Ace and stopped. His eyes followed her as she disappeared up the stairwell. ‘He fancies her, doesn’t he?’ said Allison.
‘It’s her Aryan looks.’
There was a loud crash from behind them and the sound of delicate electronics breaking. Rachel didn’t bother to turn round.
‘Allison?’
‘Yes?’
‘How’s your mental arithmetic?’
‘This reminds me of parties I used to go to,’ said Ace. She was sitting on the stairs with the Doctor. From below they could hear the sound of frantic military activity. ‘They’re really busting a gut down there.’
‘That’s the general idea,’ said the Doctor. ‘I want to keep the military fully occupied and out of the way.’
‘Out of the way of what?’ Ace kicked at a bit of loose paint on the wall. ‘Professor, you promised, remember?’
‘A long time ago, on my home planet of Gallifrey, there was a stellar engineer called Omega...’
The prelaunch checks were complete. Omega settled his big frame into the shock webbing. The sound of the big engines could be heard despite the capsule’s layers of shielding.
‘What’s Rassilon doing?’ Omega asked the other with him.
‘Going over the
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