Doctor Who: The Sea-Devils (3 page)

Trenchard spoke, but still without looking up. ‘All right, Sharp,’ he murmured, ‘carry on.’

‘Sir!’ shrieked Sharp, saluting with force enough to knock his own brains out. He turned on his heel, and left the office. Trenchard continued to write.

‘We could always come back later,’ said the Doctor helpfully.

Trenchard signed his name to the memorandum and looked up, delivering a perfectly charming Old School smile. ‘Ah, yes, you’ll be the people from UNIT.’ He rose and extended his hand. ‘Terribly, terribly glad to see you both.’

Jo shook hands with him. ‘I’m Josephine Grant, and this is the Doctor.’

‘A Doctor, eh?’ said Trenchard. ‘I’m getting a few twinges these days. Must be old-age creeping on. Still, don’t want to bother you while you’re out for a day. You’re late, you know.’

‘We had difficulty getting a boat to bring us across,’ explained Jo.

‘Ah, that old problem,’ said Trenchard. ‘But I thought you might have sunk without trace.’

‘During a two-mile crossing from the mainland?’ said the Doctor, scathingly.

‘Two miles or two hundred miles,’ said Trenchard, ‘it has happened a lot recently.’

‘What has?’ The tone in the Doctor’s voice clearly hinted to Jo his distaste for Trenchard.

‘Ships vanishing,’ said Trenchard. ‘Still, that’s the modem world for you.’ Before the Doctor could ask him what on Earth he was talking about, Trenchard continued: ‘Got your passes?’

‘We’ve been through all that,’ said the Doctor. ‘That’s how we’re in this room.’

Trenchard grinned. ‘Don’t take any chances here, old man. Let’s see them.’

Jo produced the passes and Trenchard checked them carefully. He handed them back to her. ‘Seem to be in order. You’ll be wanting to see the prisoner, I shouldn’t wonder.’

‘That,’ said the Doctor, with forced patience, ‘is the general idea.’

‘Jolly interesting fellow,’ remarked Trenchard. ‘His intelligence is a bit above the ordinary criminal type, you know. Pity, really, that a man of his ability should have got himself into this fix.’

‘What I’d like to know,’ said the Doctor, ‘is whether he’s tried to get himself
out
of this fix? Has he tried to hypnotise any of your guards?’

‘He couldn’t.’ Trenchard beamed at them both. ‘Every man here is completely immune to hypnotism. They’ve all been checked out by these trick-cyclist people.’

‘Trick-cyclists?’ said the Doctor, taking Trenchard quite literally.

‘Psycho-analysts,’ whispered Jo.

‘Like to see a demonstration?’ said Trenchard. ‘Just watch this.’ He turned to two huge oak cupboard doors and opened them. Inside was a panel that included a television monitor screen, loudspeaker and a flush microphone with controls. He pressed one of the controls and shouted at the top of his voice into the microphone, as though he did not really believe that electronics could carry sound. ‘
Trenchard here. Send that new man, Wilson, in to see the prisoner.
’ Then he pressed another button, and instantly there was a picture on the monitor screen. It showed the Master seated reading in a very pleasant room.

‘He’s putting on weight,’ commented the Doctor.

‘I know,’ said Trenchard. ‘Poor chap. Can’t get the exercise, you see. Now watch this.’

On the screen they saw a prison officer enter the Master’s room. The Master looked up. ‘Yes?’

‘Mr. Trenchard sent me, sir, to know if you wanted your book changed,’ said the prison officer.

‘That’s very kind of him,’ said the Master. ‘But I haven’t quite finished this one. You’re new here, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, sir,’ said the prison officer. ‘The name’s Wilson.’

‘Well, Mr. Wilson,’ said the Master cordially, ‘I hope we shall be friends.’ Suddenly, the Master’s friendly expression changed, and his dark brown eyes stared straight into Wilson’s eyes. ‘I am the Master and you will obey me.’

‘I knew it,’ said Jo. ‘I knew he’d be up to his old tricks.’

‘Please, Miss Grant,’ said Trenchard, ‘just watch what happens.’

The Master and Prison Officer Wilson were now looking into each other’s eyes. ‘You will obey me,’ commanded the Master. ‘Do you understand?’

Wilson smiled. ‘You just let me know when you’ve finished your book, sir,’ he said, ‘and I’ll get you another.’ With that Wilson turned and left the room. For a few - seconds the Master stared at the now closed door, then sunk back in despair to where he had been sitting, and soon started to read his book again.

‘Most impressive,’ agreed the Doctor. ‘May we now see him in person?’

‘Certainly,’ said Trenchard. ‘I’ll lead the way.’ He picked up a rather old-fashioned pork-pie hat, popped it on to his greying head, and led the Doctor and Jo out of the office. They went down a brightly-lit stone staircase to the vast basement of the château, and then along a corridor. Finally, they came to a steel door set in the stone wall, where a prison officer—this one possessed of a gun—stood to attention as Trenchard arrived.

‘At ease,’ said Trenchard, ‘and open up, there’s a good fellow.’

The Master was not reading when Jo and the Doctor entered; instead he had turned to getting some much needed exercise on a shiny new rowing machine. The room was quite large, fitted out with modern furniture, wall-to-wall carpeting, and a colour television set. There was no bed, but let into the opposite wall there was a door, so Jo concluded the Master had another room beyond which was his sleeping-quarters, A slight humming sound indicated the presence of air-conditioning.

The Master glanced up from this rowing machine. ‘Why, Doctor—and Miss Grant. What a pleasant surprise!’ He seemed quite genuinely pleased to see them, and scrambled up from the rowing machine to shake hands.

‘Bit of a surprise for you, eh?’ said Trenchard, very full of himself. ‘Naturally I knew they were coming, but didn’t tell you in case they didn’t make it. Didn’t want ‘ you to suffer a disappointment.’

‘That was very thoughtful of you,’ said the Master, appreciatively. He turned back to regard the Doctor again. ‘It really
is
good to see you, Doctor.’

‘Well,’ said the Doctor, not a little touched by the Master’s obvious joy at the visit, ‘how are you?’

The Master pointed to the rowing machine. ‘Trying to keep fit, you know.’

Compared with the Doctor, the Master seemed completely at his ease.

Trenchard realised he was not really welcome during this reunion of old enemies. ‘I’ll leave you all together,’ he said, putting on a smile. ‘Give a shout to the guard when you want to leave.’ And with that he hurried out, and the door was closed and locked behind him.

‘I’m afraid I can’t offer you any refreshments,’ apologised the Master, ‘but do sit down.’

They did as he asked. Jo thought it was rather like people saying goodbye at a railway station, when no one knows what to say. The Master broke the silence.

‘He’s not a bad sort, really,’ he said, indicating the door through which Trenchard had just retreated. ‘He was the governor of some British colony before this, so he tells me.’

‘Yes, so I heard,’ said the Doctor, glad to have something to talk about. ‘The colony claimed its independence soon after he arrived.’

Jo said, ‘He seems to be looking after you all right.’ The Master turned to her. ‘I have everything I want, Miss Grant. Except, of course, my freedom.’

‘You were lucky to get away with your life,’ said the Doctor. ‘A lot of people wanted you to be executed.’

The Master smiled. ‘My dear Doctor, don’t think I’m ungrateful.’ He paused for a moment. ‘As a matter of fact, I’ve had time to think in here.’

Jo noticed the Doctor’s immediate warm reaction to the Master’s remark. ‘Have you really? I rather hoped that you would.’

‘To be honest,’ said the Master. ‘and I’d only admit this to old friends, I wish something like this had happened to me a long time ago.’

‘You’re glad to be locked up?’ Jo could hardly believe her ears.

‘Miss Grant, no one in their right mind is glad to be locked up,’ said the Master. ‘But a little enforced isolation gives one an opportunity to reconsider what life is all about.’ He looked down at his carpeted floor. ‘I suppose there’s no chance of the British Government ever granting me
parole
from here?’

‘The judge ordered life-long imprisonment,’ said the Doctor, more forlornly than with any pleasure at the Master’s situation.

‘He was right, of course,’ said the Master. ‘I have been thoroughly evil. But we must remember that when I was tried, my wrongdoings were still fresh in people’s minds. They felt affronted by what I had done. All I am hoping is that when the dust has, as it were, settled and people are able to think of me with a little less hate, they might be willing to show some humane mercy.’

The Master spoke with such feeling and sincerity that Jo felt very sorry for him. Although this room was comfortable, and was unlike any other cell in a British prison, it seemed to her terrible that anyone should be locked in for the rest of his life. The Doctor also seeemed to be affected by the Master’s plea for mercy.

‘Don’t imagine that I enjoy seeing you detained in this place,’ said the Doctor. ‘To be honest, it distresses me very much. If the authorities were willing to give you, say, limited freedom, would you be willing to tell me the location of your TARDIS?’

Jo studied the Master’s face intently to see his reaction to this vital question. When the Master last came to this planet he had concealed his TARDIS, and at his trial refused to say where it was hidden. The Master smiled.

‘So that you, Doctor, could use my TARDIS to leave the planet Earth?’ he asked.

Jo had not thought of this. She knew that the Doctor’s TARDIS only seemed to work when it wanted to, and that the Doctor had little or no control over it, She looked now to see how the Doctor would react.

‘No,’ he said firmly, ‘we want to know where your TARDIS is so that
you
can’t leave the planet Earth.’

‘But to be logical,’ said the Master, ‘would it not please the authorities on Earth for me to take off and fly far, far away, where I could not possibly do them any harm?’

Jo cut in: ‘I thought you said you had changed your mind about doing bad things any more?’

‘Indeed I have, Miss Grant,’ said the Master, flashing his most charming and sincere smile. ‘But it seems that the authorities will never be convinced of that. All I am hinting at therefore, is that if I were far from this planet, everyone on Earth would be able to sleep in their beds more soundly!’

‘My dear old friend,’ said the Doctor, ‘you know as well as I do that if you were released from here, and had access to your TARDIS, Earth would never be safe from the possibility of your returning to it, maybe bringing with you all sorts of unpleasant allies—Ogrons, Daleks, Cybermen, or even more dreadful entities.’ He leaned forward to the Master with an earnest expression. ‘Believe me, I hate to think of you cooped up in here. It is faintly possible that I could persuade the Government to give you limited freedom, but only if you reveal the whereabouts of your TARDIS—because only then could we really keep an eye on you. Now then, what do you say?’

The Master stroked his beard thoughtfully. Then, slowly, he shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, Doctor, it’s too much to ask.’

‘But what use is your TARDIS to you while you’re in here?’ Jo asked:

‘It would be difficult for you to understand,’ said the Master, ‘but my TARDIS is my proudest possession.’

The Doctor laughed. ‘You don’t even own it! You stole it from the Time Lords!’

‘As you stole yours!’ retorted the Master. ‘Now please, let’s not start to get all moral. I’m not going to render up my TARDIS to anyone.’

‘I see.’ The Doctor rose to his feet. ‘Jo, can you tell the guard we’re ready to go, please?’

Jo went to the door and rapped on it.

‘Is there anything you need?’ asked the Doctor.

‘I have most of the necessary comforts,’ replied the Master, also rising to bid them farewell. ‘But I’d appreciate an occasional chat, if you ever have the time. Trenchard is a decent fellow but his conversation is somewhat limited.’

The prison officer opened the door.

‘I shall try to visit you again soon,’ said the Doctor. ‘In the meantime, if there is anything you want, you know where you can drop a note to me—at UNIT Headquarters.’

‘That’s most civilised of you,’ said the Master. He shook hands with the Doctor, then extended his hand to Jo. ‘I appreciate your visit immensely, Miss Grant. You have shown great mercy and compassion towards a defeated enemy.’

There was such sincerity in the Master’s voice that Jo felt quite overcome with emotion. ‘At least we’re not enemies now,’ she said a little huskily.

‘We are victor and vanquished,’ said the Master, ‘and I stand humbled before you. Perhaps, in time, the others will come to realise that all I seek now is forgiveness for my sins. Goodbye, Miss Grant, and may God be with you.,

As they left the room, Jo noticed the Master wipe a single tear from his eye.

Back in Trenchard’s office, the Doctor stood it the window gazing silently out at the rolling green lawns of the château’s estate. He seemed lost in thought.

Jo said, ‘Did you really think the Master would tell you where his TARDIS is?’

‘Not really,’ said the Doctor without turning. ‘He’s defeated, and knowledge of its location is the only thing he’s got to cling on to.’

‘Then why,’ she asked, ‘did we come all the way down here?’

The Doctor was evasive. ‘I thought a trip to the seaside might do us both good.’

‘You’re really sorry for him, aren’t you?’ she said. ‘You wanted to be sure he was being treated properly.’

‘We used to be great friends,’ said the Doctor. ‘Hundreds of years ago, when we were both young Time Lords, we were inseparable. After all, we had a lot in common.’

‘What, for instance?’

He turned to her. ‘You know the Golden Rule of the Time Lords—just to sit and watch, but never actually
do
anything? He and I are different. We wanted to get out into the Universe, to meet other species, to explore.’

‘One for good and the other for evil?’ said Jo.

‘Yes, you could say that.’

The door opened and Trenchard marched in, all smiles, removing his little pork-pie hat. ‘Ready for off then? I’d better stamp the passes.’