the corner and saw Dr Bell walking stiffly towards them.
‘He’s in a trance,’ Jo said.
As Dr Bell came close the Doctor stepped out from their hiding place. ‘I say, old man, are you feeling all right?’
Dr Bell walked on as though he heard or saw nothing. He was making his way straight down a corridor towards a big plate glass window.
‘Arnold,’ Elgin called, ‘where are you going?’
Some yards from the window Dr Bell broke into a run.
‘Good grief,’ cried the Doctor, ‘we’ve got to stop him!’
But it was too late. As they watched, Dr Bell ran straight at the huge window. In the last moments he put his head down to act as a battering ram. On impact the window burst outwards, and Dr Bell sailed forward into space to his death.
From his office window Dr Stevens looked down at the pitiful inert body sprawled on the concrete roadway below. The twisted neck and the great pool of blood told Dr Stevens that Dr Bell must be dead. Already security guards were running from the front gate to the dead man. Dr Stevens turned away from his window, saddened and sickened.
The voice of Boss spoke down at him. ‘You are a sentimentalist, Stevens.’
‘I know,’ admitted Dr Stevens.
‘Have you got a headache? Do you need the earphones?’
‘I have not got a headache.’
‘That is good,’ said the voice of Boss. ‘It means you accept that what we are doing is right.’
Dr Stevens said nothing.
‘Please say that what we are doing is right,’ the voice insisted.
Dr Stevens took a deep breath. ‘What we are doing is right,’ he repeated.
‘Good,’ said Boss. ‘Now drink some sherry or whisky. It will make you happy.’
‘Our sherry and whisky,’ said Dr Stevens, ‘is slow poison.’
The voice of Boss chuckled. ‘But it will make money for Panorama Chemicals. Sell it but don’t drink it.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Dr Stevens.
‘Continue with your work,’ ordered Boss.
Dr Stevens sat down behind his desk. After seeing Dr Bell’s body on the roadway he did not much feel like doing anything.
‘Get to work!’ said the voice of Boss, sharply.
‘Yes,’ said Dr Stevens, ‘straight away.’
For the next two hours he tried to overcome his gloom with a pretence of desk work. The events of the past few days, the deaths of the miners and now Dr Bell, had sapped his enthusiasm. Above all, he could find no direction in what he was supposed to be doing. He remained in that mood until early evening, when Hinks tapped on the door and came in. Hinks looked as though he had been drinking.
‘What is it?’ Dr Stevens asked. He could smell the beer on Hinks’s breath.
‘Just been down to the pub,’ said Hinks. ‘Somehow the people at the Nut Hatch got hold of one of the eggs.’
Dr Stevens sat bolt upright. ‘How?’
Rinks shrugged. ‘In the mine, I suppose.’
The news triggered off all of Dr Stevens’s induced loyalty to Boss and the main purpose of their work. ‘You must go and get it for us, Hinks.’
Hinks grinned. ‘What if they won’t let me have it?’ He was a bit drunk.
‘Don’t go and ask for it,’ Dr Stevens said patiently. ‘Take it!’
‘Right.’ Hinks clenched his fists.
‘At all costs that egg must not be in their hands when it hatches,’ said Dr Stevens.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Hinks. ‘I’ll get it back.’ He hurried out.
After Mark Elgin had secreted the Doctor and Jo out of the ground in the boot of his car, he deposited them at the Nut Hatch. The Doctor thanked Elgin warmly and asked whether he knew what Panorama Chemicals was really doing. Elgin replied honestly that he didn’t know.
‘But you’re the public relations officer,’ said Jo, ‘you should know everything about the Company!’
‘Perhaps,’ said Elgin, ‘they pay me such a big salary so that I won’t ask questions.’
The Doctor tried to get Elgin to go into the Nut Hatch with them, to have a hospitable cup of herbal tea. But the PRO felt he had gone far enough in helping the
‘He’s in a trance,’ Jo said.
As Dr Bell came close the Doctor stepped out from their hiding place. ‘I say, old man, are you feeling all right?’
Dr Bell walked on as though he heard or saw nothing. He was making his way straight down a corridor towards a big plate glass window.
‘Arnold,’ Elgin called, ‘where are you going?’
Some yards from the window Dr Bell broke into a run.
‘Good grief,’ cried the Doctor, ‘we’ve got to stop him!’
But it was too late. As they watched, Dr Bell ran straight at the huge window. In the last moments he put his head down to act as a battering ram. On impact the window burst outwards, and Dr Bell sailed forward into space to his death.
From his office window Dr Stevens looked down at the pitiful inert body sprawled on the concrete roadway below. The twisted neck and the great pool of blood told Dr Stevens that Dr Bell must be dead. Already security guards were running from the front gate to the dead man. Dr Stevens turned away from his window, saddened and sickened.
The voice of Boss spoke down at him. ‘You are a sentimentalist, Stevens.’
‘I know,’ admitted Dr Stevens.
‘Have you got a headache? Do you need the earphones?’
‘I have not got a headache.’
‘That is good,’ said the voice of Boss. ‘It means you accept that what we are doing is right.’
Dr Stevens said nothing.
‘Please say that what we are doing is right,’ the voice insisted.
Dr Stevens took a deep breath. ‘What we are doing is right,’ he repeated.
‘Good,’ said Boss. ‘Now drink some sherry or whisky. It will make you happy.’
‘Our sherry and whisky,’ said Dr Stevens, ‘is slow poison.’
The voice of Boss chuckled. ‘But it will make money for Panorama Chemicals. Sell it but don’t drink it.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Dr Stevens.
‘Continue with your work,’ ordered Boss.
Dr Stevens sat down behind his desk. After seeing Dr Bell’s body on the roadway he did not much feel like doing anything.
‘Get to work!’ said the voice of Boss, sharply.
‘Yes,’ said Dr Stevens, ‘straight away.’
For the next two hours he tried to overcome his gloom with a pretence of desk work. The events of the past few days, the deaths of the miners and now Dr Bell, had sapped his enthusiasm. Above all, he could find no direction in what he was supposed to be doing. He remained in that mood until early evening, when Hinks tapped on the door and came in. Hinks looked as though he had been drinking.
‘What is it?’ Dr Stevens asked. He could smell the beer on Hinks’s breath.
‘Just been down to the pub,’ said Hinks. ‘Somehow the people at the Nut Hatch got hold of one of the eggs.’
Dr Stevens sat bolt upright. ‘How?’
Rinks shrugged. ‘In the mine, I suppose.’
The news triggered off all of Dr Stevens’s induced loyalty to Boss and the main purpose of their work. ‘You must go and get it for us, Hinks.’
Hinks grinned. ‘What if they won’t let me have it?’ He was a bit drunk.
‘Don’t go and ask for it,’ Dr Stevens said patiently. ‘Take it!’
‘Right.’ Hinks clenched his fists.
‘At all costs that egg must not be in their hands when it hatches,’ said Dr Stevens.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Hinks. ‘I’ll get it back.’ He hurried out.
After Mark Elgin had secreted the Doctor and Jo out of the ground in the boot of his car, he deposited them at the Nut Hatch. The Doctor thanked Elgin warmly and asked whether he knew what Panorama Chemicals was really doing. Elgin replied honestly that he didn’t know.
‘But you’re the public relations officer,’ said Jo, ‘you should know everything about the Company!’
‘Perhaps,’ said Elgin, ‘they pay me such a big salary so that I won’t ask questions.’
The Doctor tried to get Elgin to go into the Nut Hatch with them, to have a hospitable cup of herbal tea. But the PRO felt he had gone far enough in helping the
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