With his leg strapped up, and a shot of painkillers from Corporal Palmer’s medical pouch, Captain Wilson managed to struggle back onto his feet. The Norton was a write-off, and Palmer’s sniper rifle was bent and twisted beyond repair, but they still had one of the NLAWs left, and more than enough grenades to make quite a mess of the Bell when they found it.
That was assuming there were no more giant insects lying in wait for them en route …
He glanced at his army-issue Cabot watch. The two hours that they had been given were almost up. He just hoped that Hawkins had been able to convince the Colonel to give them more time.
They were about to set off towards the industrial estate when Private Arnopp suddenly paused. ‘Listen,’ he hissed.
From somewhere ahead of them came the sound of a large crowd of people moving along one of the lanes. Wilson motioned to the two soldiers to move forward and the three men made their way quickly to the hedgerow at the edge of the field and peered cautiously into the road.
‘Looks like a goddamn town meeting,’ breathed Palmer.
Wilson recognised the quote from Aliens but ignored it. Palmer was right. If the research that they had about the population of Ringstone was correct then it was pretty much all of them, and they seemed to be carrying something.
He twisted to get a better view; it seemed to be a large, heavy stone of some kind. Then he caught sight of something that made him curse under his breath. At the front of the crowd, being marched along with his own rifle pointed at his back, was Private Hawkins. Robin Sanford, the constable, and the other civilians walked alongside him.
Wilson quickly considered his options. They still had to get to the Bell, but he couldn’t just abandon one of his men. Besides, they needed Hawkins to get back in touch with the Colonel if they were going to cancel that airstrike.
‘Dobby, follow them. If you get a chance to get Hawkins and the others free, take it. Arnopp, you’re with me.’
Both men nodded and Palmer started to make his way along the hedgerow.
‘Palmer.’
The corporal turned to look at his commanding officer. ‘Yes, Captain?’
‘Remember that these are civilians, Palmer. We don’t want a bloodbath here.’
Palmer nodded and hurried away.
Private Arnopp gave Wilson a worried look. ‘And then there were two …’
Shirtsleeves rolled up, the Doctor was arm-deep inside the Bell, helping to repair the mounting point for the Xerum 525 vial when one of the villagers entered the warehouse and shambled towards Clearfield.
‘Gebbron wishes you to join him at the circle.’
‘I’m busy,’ snapped the professor concentrating on the console in front of him.
‘He says that that it is important. That I am to use force if you will not come.’
‘Better do as he says,’ said the Doctor in a cautioning tone. ‘I don’t know about Gebbron, but Clara can be quite forceful when she wants to be. A real bossy-boots.’
Throwing his clipboard down in disgust, Clearfield glared at him, then turned and hurried out through the doors.
As soon as Clearfield was out of sight, the Doctor clambered to his feet, rolling down his sleeves and shrugging back into his jacket. He needed to work fast.
‘Right, you lot.’ He clicked his fingers at the other technicians. ‘I imagine that there’s enough Scopolamine in your systems to make this relatively simple.’ He pressed his fingers this temples, his brow furrowing with concentration. ‘You will carry on with your allotted tasks, you will ignore me and anything I do. Indicate your understanding.’
As one, the shambling technicians nodded.
The Doctor allowed himself a smile of satisfaction. ‘It’s all a matter of willpower …’
He crossed to the far side of the warehouse, searching through the piles of electrical components until he found a coil of thick, insulated cable.
‘That should do the job,’ he muttered to himself.
Dragging the heavy cable across the floor, he started to uncoil it. Leaving one end next to the Bell he pushed open one of the fire escape doors and hauled the other end of the cable across to where the TARDIS stood outside.
Opening the door, he vanished inside, hauling the cable over to the console and connecting it as best he could. When it was done, he stood back and grimaced. It was a bit of a lash-up, but he needed access to both the dematerialisation and telepathic circuits if this was going to work properly.
He hurried back into the warehouse, busying himself with the connections at the other end. He was making the last connection to the Bell when there was the sharp click of a safety catch being unlocked and the cold barrel of a gun pressed into the back of his neck.
‘OK, hands where I can see them. Quickly.’
The Doctor pressed his hands onto the surface of the Bell. Rough hands quickly patted him down and he was spun around. Two bruised and bloodied British soldiers faced him, guns raised.
The Doctor gave a gasp of exasperation. ‘Why is it I can always rely on the armed forces to arrive at precisely the wrong moment?’
The first soldier grinned, but didn’t take his finger from the trigger. ‘And there I was thinking that we were like the American Cavalry, arriving to save the day just in the nick of time.’
The Doctor glanced at the rank on his sleeve. ‘Captain, if you are interested in saving the day, then you really need to let me finish what I am doing, I have a very complex set of calculations to make and very little time in which to do it.’
The soldier hesitated for a moment, then lowered the rifle. ‘The Doctor, right?’
‘Yes!’
‘I’m Captain Wilson, this is Private Arnopp …’
‘Yes, yes, yes. Introductions later, Captain.’ The Doctor turned back to his work. ‘Clearfield could be back any moment.’
‘Clearfield?’ Wilson frowned, remembering the classified documents that Colonel Dickinson had shown him. ‘There was a Professor Clearfield in charge of the experiments during the war.’
‘Yes.’ The Doctor didn’t turn around. ‘And he’s very close to successfully starting up them up again. Now, if you don’t mind …’
Wilson walked slowly around the huge grey shape that dominated the warehouse. ‘So this is the Bell …’
‘If you want to be completely accurate, this is Die Glocke,’ said the Doctor without looking up. ‘German engineering. Always a pleasure to work with.’
Wilson glanced at Arnopp. ‘What do you think, Private?’
Arnopp made a swift assessment of the machine. ‘Outside looks ceramic. Steel core. Shouldn’t be a problem, Captain. We should have enough grenades to turn it into scrap.’
The Doctor raised his head, his brow furrowed. ‘Now you just listen here, Captain. If you think for one moment—’
‘No, you listen to me, Doctor. I have strict instructions to disable or destroy this machine in any way possible. Now unless you can give me a damn good reason—’
‘Clara Oswald.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘You asked me for a good reason. She’s it. Clara Oswald.’
Wilson frowned. ‘The girl we left back at the farm?’
The Doctor shook his head. ‘Whatever it is that you have met, it is not Clara, just a thing inhabiting her body.’ The Doctor leaned close to the captain, his voice low. ‘Do you have family, Captain Wilson, someone close to you? Well, imagine if one of them was trapped, trapped somewhere terrible, and frightening, and more alien than you could possibly imagine. Wouldn’t you do anything to help them? Wouldn’t you take whatever risks you could in order to bring them back safely? Well, that is what I am asking. Clara is trapped, in a strange body, on a strange world. This machine can bring her back. Give me the chance to save her.’
Wilson was silent for a moment. ‘I have a niece,’ he said finally. ‘My sister’s kid. Diagnosed with leukaemia last year. If I could do anything that could help her …’ He looked at the Doctor sadly. ‘But I can’t. And neither can you. If this machine activates, then my commanding officer has orders to bring in an airstrike that will leave this entire village as nothing more than a smoky hole in the ground.’
The Doctor stared at him in horror. ‘Then stop it.’
‘Not my decision.’
‘Captain!’ The Doctor’s voice was like a thunderclap. ‘I need this machine to operate for a fraction of a second in order to get Clara back. After that, I will happily turn it into so much molten slag. But I will have that fraction of a second!’
The two men faced each other for what seemed like an age, then Wilson nodded. ‘All right, Doctor. But as soon as your friend is safe, we destroy this machine.’
‘My word,’ said the Doctor solemnly. ‘Now, the two of you need to get out of here before Clearfield comes back.’
Wilson checked his watch. ‘I’m assuming all this is going to kick off in about fifteen minutes. At the equinox?’
The Doctor looked at him with surprise and nodded. ‘You’ve done your research, Captain.’
The sound of booted feet approaching made the Captain look up sharply, hand reaching for his weapon. A third soldier hurried into the warehouse.
Wilson relaxed his grip. ‘You’re going to be the death of me, Corporal Palmer. Sneaking in like that.’
‘Sorry, sir.’ Palmer grinned.
‘So, what’s the news?’
‘Private Hawkins and the others are being held on the edge of a field on the other side of the railway. Couple of the zombies have got Hawkins’ rifle and Mr Sanford’s shotgun. The villagers are still doing their Wicker Man bit. That young bird? She got them putting a stone into the circle.’
‘A stone?’ The Doctor was on his feet in a flash. ‘What stone? Corporal, I need you to tell me exactly what is going on out there, and quickly!’
Clearfield stepped into the stone circle, staring with incredulity at the stone that the villagers were placing into position.
‘I don’t believe it …’ he said weakly, running his hand over the ancient rock. ‘It was here … All this time …’
‘You are an idiot, Clearfield!’ Clara, or rather Gebbron, was almost purple with anger. ‘Years wasted! Endless pointless experiments!’
‘But, where …?’
‘Right under your nose! In the house of this man.’
Gebbron pointed at where Robin Sanford was held alongside Angela and the others.
Almost in a daze, Clearfield walked towards him. ‘You took this? You kept this hidden. Why?’ His voice hardened with anger. ‘Why?’
Robin stared at him defiantly. ‘Because I knew that if I didn’t then one day someone would come back. To reopen the gateway. To bring back the monsters.’ He shook his head. ‘I’d seen it happen once. I wasn’t going to let it happen again. Figured that even if you could build another one of those damn machines you wouldn’t be able to just replace one of the stones.’
Clearfield leaned close, recognition dawning on him. ‘You were there, weren’t you? One of the soldiers …’ He studied him carefully. ‘Age has not been kind to you.’
Robin sniffed. ‘Still got all my face, though, haven’t I?’
Clearfield’s rage and frustration boiled up. He was about to strike the old man when Clara’s voice barked out across the circle.
‘We’ve no time for this, Clearfield!’
He took a deep, shuddering breath and turned away from Robin Sanford. ‘No, Gebbron.’
He hurried over to where she was examining the stone. ‘Is it damaged in any way?’ he asked, peering at the swirling patterns.
‘No. It has been well treated.’ Gebbron flashed an unpleasant smile at Robin. ‘You should have destroyed it when you had the chance.’ He turned back to Clearfield. ‘Contact Maagla. Tell him that our plans have changed. He is to get my physical form ready for immediate transfer to this planet.’ Gebbron looked down at his human form. ‘I loathe this abomination of a body. You will operate the Bell so that my consciousness is reunified the instant that it materialises. And tell General Legriss to prepare his guards.’
Clearfield just nodded, aware that all his plans all his preparations had been for nothing. ‘What about the girl? You wish her reunified as well?’
Gebbron said nothing.
‘Gebbron, if we do not transfer her mind at the same moment then it will have nowhere to go! It will just dissipate.’
‘Then so be it.’
The Doctor had only just finished connecting the Bell to his TARDIS when Clearfield re-entered the laboratory.
‘Something wrong?’
Clearfield looked at him blankly. The scientist looked older, frailer, suddenly. ‘We must reset the machine to the 1944 calibrations. All this –’ he waved a hand at the circle of black monoliths – ‘wasted.’
The Doctor watched the man carefully as he stepped forward to one of the control consoles and started readjusting controls to their new settings. He was on the edge of a breakdown, of total collapse. If ever there was a chance to break through the Wyrrester conditioning …
‘Clearfield. If you do this, if you open that gateway, then there will be no stopping them.’
Clearfield looked at him blankly. ‘What?’
‘If you give the Wyrresters asylum here on Earth then they will destroy this world, as they have destroyed every other world they have landed on.’
‘No.’ Clearfield shook his head. ‘No, you’re wrong. They will lead us to glory.’
‘Listen to me—’
‘It’s too late, Doctor.’ Clearfield snatched the gun from his jacket. ‘Now continue setting the calibrations. I must contact Maagla.’
The Doctor watched him make his way to the communications console. ‘Together, you and I might have stopped this,’ he murmured sadly. ‘Now I have no choice.’
Angela watched as the preparations at the circle became more animated as the sky started to darken. Some of the villagers had forcibly wrenched the concrete bollard from its footing in the circle and replaced it with the stone from Robin Sanford’s garden, others had been set to task clearing the web from the underpass that led to the industrial estate.
‘I wonder what’s happened to the spider?’ she muttered to Private Hawkins.
‘With luck the Captain put paid to that,’ said Hawkins firmly.
‘That bang we heard earlier?’
Hawkins nodded. ‘Anti-tank missile by the sound of it.’
Charlie Bevan was more concerned with what the other villagers were up to. Groups of them were dragging arm-thick cables through the cleared underpass. Cables that obviously led back towards the industrial estate. ‘What are they doing?’
‘Linking the circle to the Bell,’ said Robin. ‘It’s like that night in 1944 all over again.’ The thought of it was obviously terrifying him.
‘But the others, the Captain and the other soldiers. They’ll be able to stop it, won’t they? I mean the weapons you have today …’
Hawkins said nothing, just stared at his boots. ‘Look there’s something you should know …’
‘They’re not going to let this thing go the distance, are they, son?’ said Robin Sanford softly. ‘They’ve got other plans.’
‘Who?’ Now it was Charlie’s turn to look frightened. ‘Who has other plans?’
‘Our mission was to stop the Bell being activated … Or …’
‘Or what?’
‘Or get everyone away before the air strike.’
Robin gave a soft laugh. ‘Well isn’t that just perfect. I survive a bomb attack during the war and end up getting killed by one seventy years later.’
‘But we’ve got to warn everyone!’ Charlie Bevan stepped forward to try and reason with his captors, but Simon George just shoved him back roughly.
‘Simon, you have to listen to me. We’re all in terrible danger.’
The postmaster’s expression remained unchanged.
‘They can’t hear you, Charlie,’ said Angela wearily. ‘Or don’t want to hear you.’
‘But everyone is going to be killed!’
‘If that maniac lets that monster loose again then everyone is dead anyway,’ Robin pointed out.
Before anyone could say any more, a distant voice yelled, ‘Hawkins! Fire in the hole!’
Angela pointed to the middle of the field, as several metal canisters suddenly arced over the hedge.
Hawkins’ eyes went wide as he recognised the objects. ‘Everyone! Close your eyes, hands over your ears. Now!’
Angela barely managed to do as she was told before the flash-bangs went off. Even with her ears blocked, the detonation was deafening, and the flash was bright enough to light up the insides of her eyelids. She opened her eyes to see villagers staggering around blindly, completely disorientated by the explosion. Two more canisters landed on the grass, but this time dense white smoke started to billow out, turning the crowd into a coughing, shambling mass of silhouetted shapes.
She suddenly felt the bonds behind her back being untied and the voice of Corporal Palmer hissing in her ear. ‘Link hands, stay low, follow me.’
Struggling not to cough from the acrid smoke, Angela did as she was told, following the corporal into the trees and out into the car park beyond,
Hurrying them towards the pub, Palmer led them into the lounge bar, where they all collapsed, grateful to be free of both their bonds and the choking smoke.
Moments later Captain Wilson joined them, breathless and sweating from his recent exertions.
‘Right, that’s given us a breathing space, but we don’t have long.’ He crossed to where Charlie Bevan was struggling to get his breath. ‘Constable. We’ve just come from the Doctor. He said that you are to tell us how you and he survived that night.’
‘What?’ Charlie looked at him in bemusement. ‘I’m more concerned with surviving today.’
‘Listen to me,’ snapped Captain Wilson hauling him to his feet. ‘I’ve been attacked by an acid-spitting beetle, nearly trodden on by a huge spider, I’ve got an imminent alien invasion, not to mention a commanding officer who is probably tearing his hair out by now – and that’s if he hasn’t already called in a missile strike that will leave this place as a big black stain on the landscape. I have only one anti-tank missile left, and very little time, so, if you have something that is going to be of use to me I want to hear about it right now!’
‘But I don’t know anything!’ protested the spluttering policeman.
‘He said that you were lucky to survive that night, what did he mean?’
‘We only just got away in time.’ Charlie was struggling to remember the details of that terrifying night. ‘There was the Bell, and the scorpion in the circle, and the bombing raid—’
He stopped, suddenly aware of what it was that the Doctor wanted him to tell the Captain.
‘The bombing raid … We only got back to his TARDIS that night because one of the bombs didn’t go off! Captain, there’s an unexploded German bomb buried right underneath the stone circle!’