After a short time the sound faded again, leaving just the regular background noise of London's busy skyways. He risked a peek round the corner. Nobody was about, nothing seemed unusual. Except...was that a lamp stuck on top of that tall blue crate? Weird.
A sudden, more earthly sound - perhaps a door handle being turned - set Bernie's heart racing again, and he ducked back down. It was definitely coming from the blue crate...
The TARDIS doors opened with a creak. Barbara Wright's hand appeared first, resting lightly on the edge of the wood; then her arm, shoulder, head, as she peered out at the bright sunlight; next her left foot; and finally the rest of her, emerging in a single forward motion.
Delight lit her face as she breathed deep the fresh air of this future land, gazed into clear skies as flying cars streamed overhead. Once fully separated from the time and space machine that was her - hopefully temporary! - home, her movement slowed. She took her time, let the sensations of a new world sink in. She turned in a circle, each step measured, and studied her surroundings with a quiet smile and dancing eyes.
Ian Chesterton strode out next, looking around with just as much wonder. "Well!" he said, stopping as he came up beside Barbara. "This is like something out of one of the magazines I used to read as a child - Astounding. I wonder where we are?"
"London", she replied confidently.
"How do you know that?"
Barbara pointed. Beyond a metal fence, between the spires of immensely tall, graceful buildings, the familiar form of Buckingham Palace sat. "You see? This is London, some time in our future."
Ian nodded, approvingly, as another vehicle flew across the gap between them and the palace. "I like what they've done with the place. I could have used a car like that on my way to Coal Hill in the mornings - It would certainly have helped me avoid the rush."
Barbara smiled and leaned against him, appreciating his sense of humour. Together they looked up at the skies of the bright tomorrow.
Bernie had heard enough. They weren't Bippies - heck, it didn't sound as if they were entirely sane - and there was a good chance he could turn this situation to his advantage. It was time to make his presence known.
"Mornin', Sir, Ma'am," he said, stepping out to face them. The two travellers started, then relaxed as they took in the short, harmless-looking lad addressing them in his oh-so-familiar Estuary accent. "My name's Bernard, but you can call me Bernie. Can I help you good folks in any way?"
Ian and Barbara were staring at the young man. He looked about 18 and wore the oddest clothes, made of some material that appeared to be a cross between plastic and cloth. As he moved, it reflected the light in all colours of the rainbow - a dazzling, if tasteless effect.
Barbara found her voice first. "Hello, Bernie. We've been travelling, and we're not sure quite where we are. If you could just help us find our bearings?"
Bernie nodded. "No probs. I could see from your togs you're not from around 'ere. Stick with me and I'll see you right."
The Doctor and Susan chose that moment to step out of the TARDIS; Bernie did a double-take. "Blimey!" he exclaimed. "'Ow many more you got hidin' in there?"
Ian laughed, but the Doctor looked put out. He demanded to know who he was talking to, and a complete round of introductions followed. Susan shook Bernie's hand enthusiastically. "It's so nice to meet someone friendly as soon as we leave the TARDIS, isn't it, Grandfather?"
The Doctor harrumphed, turned away, and made a point of locking the TARDIS door. I'm going to have to watch that one, thought Bernie. Still, he probably wouldn't have to stick around them for long. "Right," he said, "If you're all done checkin' your luggage, I'll show the way to the terminal."
"Terminal?" asked Ian. "Are we in an airport?"
Bernie looked at him as if he were mad. "Airport? This, my friends," - he spread his arms wide, twirling theatrically - "is London Spaceport."
* * *
Lieutenant Jack Cornes, British Interplanetary Police, put down the latest report and rubbed his eyes. All he'd had to deal with for the past week were minor infractions and missing luggage, lost children and the odd chancer trying to sneak a seat on one of the rockets heading for the colonies. Was this why he joined the BIP? To do this scutwork? He'd pictured himself really helping people, saving lives and solving crimes that mattered. The sort of case that he only seemed to get involved in a few times a year - and when he did, his superiors stepped in and took control. It was wearying.
There was a knock at the door, and his Sergeant entered.
"Sir? There's been another pickpocketing incident. Looks like we've got an active one, probably somebody nicking tickets to sell on the black market again."
Cornes sighed. "Thank you, Jones. I'm sure you're quite capable of dealing with it, though. I do have all this to get through." He waved his hand despairingly over the paper-strewn desk.
The Sergeant wasn't moving; Cornes could tell there was something more. "Out with it, Jones. What's bothering you?"
"It's the latest victim, sir. It's Colonel Strong."
Cornes' heart jumped. "Not Samuel Strong?"
"Yes, sir."
This was terrible. Colonel Sam Strong, hero of the spaceways, robbed. And on his watch. Just for a second Cornes paused, considering the possibilities; then he stood up and strode out from behind his desk. "Right, Sergeant," he said, "let's go catch us some bad guys."
* * *
The Doctor's party wandered through the crowded concourse of the spaceport. Bernie couldn't make them out. They seemed fascinated by the most ordinary things, like ignorant countryfolk on their first visit to the capital; but then Susan or the Doctor would spot one of the latest gizmos and comment on how 'quaint' or 'primitive' it was. Still, he didn't need to understand them. All that mattered was that they were heading in the right direction and none of the people they passed were sparing him a glance in the company of such wierdos. One of the basic camouflage techniques, and he'd stumbled into it by blind luck. Sometimes Saint Dismas really was smiling.
Now they'd stopped outside a cheap clothes shop. Susan was admiring the display.
"Barbara, just look at that outfit! Isn't it fab?" She turned to the Doctor. "Grandfather, can I try it on? Please?"
The old man didn't know what to say, humming and muttering while he tried to think of an excuse to forbid it. Barbara stepped in, taking the teenager by the arm and turning to face him. She smiled. "It's alright, Doctor, you don't have to come along. I'll look after Susan."
She was clever, that one, good at manipulating people. Well, thought Bernie, so am I - though at the moment I'm not having to make any of the running. When the Doctor hesitated the other man - Ian - stepped in, laughing. "Actually, I quite fancied a look in the bookshop over there. Why don't we leave the girls to it, Doctor, and meet up in half an hour at that coffee shop?"
The Doctor reacted as expected, taking the easy way out and going along with the others. "That seems acceptable," he said. "Susan - mind you don't make any trouble for Miss Wright!"
Susan nodded, meekly, then looked at their guide. "Bernie?"
The boy shook his head; he couldn't afford a half hour delay. Time to move on the next phase, and he had a great idea for how to go about it. "Sorry, Susan," he replied, "clothes shoppin's not my bag, and I got things to do. Still, great meeting you folks. Have a drink on me." He dropped a handful of coins into the girl's hand and gave her a quick hug; then, before the Doctor could object, embraced the old man too. The others were more prepared, but it didn't matter by that time. He shook Ian's hand, waved cheerily to Barbara, and sauntered off along the concourse.
"What a peculiar young man," commented the Doctor.
"Hmm," said Susan. She was gazing after Bernie wistfully.
* * *
"Pleasure to have you with us, Colonel Strong," said Cornes as they joined Jones outside the BIP office.
"It's the least I can do, Lieutenant," replied the hero. He was still a youngish man, maybe early forties, but he had a presence that both the BIP officers felt keenly. "I can't stay for long - don't want to miss me flight! - but if I spot the young blighter who robbed me I'll at least be able to identify him. He'll probably be in the check-in line for the rocket."
Sergeant Jones doubted it - he was sure the thief would have touted the ticket. He wished they had more stringent checks on identity for the flights, but since the rapid expansion of spaceflight in the second half of the Twentieth Century it had hardly seemed worth it to the Powers That Be. They should have asked the men on the ground who had to deal with the mess that created. Still, his superior was humouring the Colonel - and why not? Everyone loved Sam Strong, specially since the Mars Incident.
They strode through the spaceport, two men in blue uniforms and one in green, until they reached the check-in lounge for the Colonel's flight. He scanned the crowd carefully for a couple of minutes, but the lad he was looking for wasn't there. "Darn it!" he swore. "No sign of him."
"Well, thank you anyway, Colonel," said Cornes. "I'll stay while we explain the situation and get you on to the flight. Maybe he'll turn up; if not, we do have other methods of enquiry. Jones, you may as well get back to the office."
"Yes, sir." Huh, he thought. Of course Cornsie gets to spend time with Colonel Strong; privileges of rank, and all that.
He was ambling back feeling put-upon when his communicator went off. "Yeah, Sergeant Jones speaking?"
"Mike? Ellie here. We've had an anonymous tip-off about that ticket theft. Someone saw some old bloke in Barnfather's Books bragging to a younger man about how he'd got a boy to do it for him. They were both really oddly dressed, apparently; he said you wouldn't be able to miss them."
"Right! Thanks, Ellie. Buy you a drink after shift?"
"You know my husband wouldn't approve. I'll settle for a coffee from the shop to keep me awake 'til I get off."
"Deal. Thanks again. Mike out."
So. If he could nab them himself it would be a real feather in his cap. But two of them? Even if one was an old man that would be tricky. Better to get the Lieutenant.
At least that way Cornsie wouldn't be one-up on hero time.
* * *
Bernie watched the Bippie and the soldier-boy at the check-in desk. That was OK - if Strong got on board it made his next move easier. He just had to be patient. And careful; he was pretty sure Strong had made him when he took the ticket, so he'd better not be seen now.
Another Bippie came running up. Good, he thought, that'll be my distraction in action. He watched them talking for a minute, then all three of them ran off. Perfect.
Bernie waited a few more minutes then marched confidently up to the desk. "Sorry to bovver you," he said, "but Colonel Strong left in such a rush he forgot he needed another luggage tag. Can I get it for him?" He grinned winningly at the young woman behind the desk, who smiled back and handed him the electronic device. "Thanks, doll," said Bernie with a wink. "I'll see you around."
Easy as pie. Now to take a different route back to where he'd first met the Doctor and his friends.
* * *
"I don't know, Doctor," complained Ian, "when I came into this bookshop I did expect to find some actual books. Not just these things!" He waved a handful of thin plastic rectangles in the air.
"Now, now, Chesterton. One of those 'things', as you call them, contains just as much information as a shelf full of paper books. You have to learn to move with the times."
Ian laughed. "I do move with the times, Doctor - in your TARDIS."
The Doctor frowned. "It's probably a good thing you don't know how to use them anyway. What if you discovered something about your future, hm? What would you do then?"
"It depends what I found out. I wouldn't go and ask my older self for advice, if that's what worries you. But I doubt I'm ever going to appear in Who's Who, even if you do manage to get us home."
The Doctor ignored the dig. "It wouldn't have to be something about you directly. What if you found out about a future technology? Could you resist using that knowledge when you get back to the 1960s?"
Ian sighed. "Well, as you say, with these things I'm not going to get the chance, am I?"
A cough interrupted them. They both turned to see two policemen and a military chap watching them. "Can we help you?" asked the Doctor.
The senior policeman took the lead. "Sorry to trouble you but we've had a tip-off that you might be engaged in illegal activity. Would you mind answering a few questions?"
The Doctor bridled. "I assure you, sir, that I am no criminal, and I resent the implication." He raised his hands to his lapels, and Ian saw that they were in danger of being subjected to a long and indignant speech.
"Doctor," he said, "why don't we just cooperate with these officers? We've got nothing to hide, after all." The Doctor scowled at him, but subsided.
"Thank you, sir," said Cornes. "Now, with your permission, we can just use an electronic scanner and prove that you don't have the stolen item on your person. Is that okay with you?"
"Sure," replied Ian; the Doctor nodded, ungraciously. The junior officer stepped forward and ran a grey, handheld device up and down both sides of Ian's body and along his arms. It remained silent. Then he turned to the Doctor, who was grumpy and uncooperative. "Come on, Doctor," said Ian, "let's get this over with."
"Very well," replied the old man as he stuck his arms out and stood rigidly. Ian almost laughed; he looked like a scarecrow.
He didn't laugh when the machine started beeping. Cornes stepped forward. "Can you please keep your arms still while I check what set off the scanner, sir?" The Lieutenant reached into the Doctor's waistcoat pocket and pulled out a plastic card. "Can you explain what you are doing with" - he double-checked the name - "Samuel Strong's boarding ticket?"
The Doctor's frown had turned to an expression of disbelief. "I have never seen that in my life!"
Both the BIP officers were standing ready in case of trouble. "In that case," said Cornes, "I am afraid I am going to have to ask you to accompany us."
"I will not!" said the Doctor. "This is outrageous! How dare you impune my, my, honestly?"
Ian wasn't immediately sure what to do, but Cornes grabbed the Doctor, and when he responded by trying to shake the policeman off the other officer - Jones - touched him with something that put him out like a light. The soldier was already advancing on Ian, who threw the book rectangles into his face and fled.
"I'll get him!" shouted Cornes, and together with Colonel Strong he chased the fleeing teacher into the concourse, leaving Jones with the unconscious body of the Doctor.
* * *
Barbara sat at the clear plastic table, slowly sipping a coffee. Susan had finished her own drink - a thick, pink concoction something like a milkshake - and was talking enthusiastically about fashion. Barbara was only half listening. They had both enjoyed their visit to the clothes store, but she was starting to wonder where the boys had got to. She wasn't exactly worried, not yet, but she kept a weather eye on the crowds flowing past - and particularly on the doors of the bookshop.
A couple of figures caught her eye, a policeman and a military officer. Both were breathing hard. "Slippery blighter," said the green-clad soldier. His companion nodded.
"Not to worry, Colonel. At least we know what he looks like now, and we have his boss in custody. We'll get him - I'll make sure of that."
The Colonel glanced up at a clock hanging from the ceiling, looking for all the world like one of the station clocks from Barbara's own time. "Time I was off, Lieutenant - me flight's boarding, and after all this kerfuffle I intend to be on it."
"Thank you, Colonel Strong; it's been a privilege. Are you going to be spending much time in the colonies?"
"Don't know yet - it depends what I find. Good luck with the rat-catching."
They shook hands and walked off, but something about the conversation worried Barbara. She turned to her companion.
"Susan, I'm just going into the bookshop to see if I can find the others. Will you wait here in case they come out before I get back?"
Susan looked perturbed. "Of course, Miss Wright. Is something the matter?"
Barbara hesitated. "I'm not sure - it's just a feeling I have. It's probably nothing, but..."
Susan put a hand on her old teacher's arm. "I understand. You need to make sure." They smiled at each other, and Barbara headed off.
Thirty-seven and one half minutes. That was how long it had been since they last saw Grandfather and Mr. Chesterton. Not enough time to start worrying, given their predilection for delay, but Barbara's feelings were often accurate. She was a fine observer, thought Susan, but couldn't always consciously access the information she gathered, relying instead on subconscious prompts. As a technique it had the advantage that it wouldn't be distracted by other incoming signals, but it was also frustratingly vague. Susan enjoyed experimenting with it, but generally preferred logical reasoning as a problem-solving method.
She considered Bernie, aware that logic had little to do with those particular thoughts. He was certainly a handsome young man, friendly, and amusing - but there was also something slightly 'off' about his presentation. She focused, blocking out external stimuli while trying to trace the thread...
"Hey, Susan!"
She started, opened her eyes. There was Bernie himself, standing right in front of her, breathless and worried. "Bernie! What's wrong?"
"Look, sorry to rush ya, but I ran into the Doctor and he asked me to come get you - urgent, like."
"Really?" Susan looked around, gathering her thoughts. "I'll fetch Barbara straight away."
"No!" Bernie saw her reaction, and backtracked. "I mean, there's no time. That's why he sent me rather than comin' himself: he needs you back at the, what was it? The TARDIS. Right away." He considered a moment. "We could leave a quick note?"
Something definitely feels wrong about this, thought Susan, but I can't take a chance on not being there for Grandfather when I'm needed. "OK," she said, and wrote on a paper napkin:
Gone to TARDIS. Meet me there. S.
* * *
* * *
Bernie led Susan back to her blue box at a run. Everything had been going perfectly, and then he'd hit this last-minute hitch. So pathetic, not being able to make some stupid doors stay shut! But he was afraid. All those controls, in that impossible space - what if he hit the wrong thing? Anything could happen. He needed someone who knew what they were doing - someone malleable. The girl.
They were nearly there, now, but he could see the robots were already at work. "Come on!" he yelled, and put on a burst of speed. Susan almost fell, but he tugged her arm and together they burst into the huge white room within the man-sized blue box. "Shut the doors!" he shouted, and almost through instinct the girl operated a lever. With a hum the double doors swung to - and Bernie let go his breath. He'd made it!
"Where's Grandfather?" The tone in her voice was suspicious, but it didn't matter now.
"He's around. Somewhere."
Susan rounded on him. "You're lying - there's no point pretending, I can tell. What have you done with him?"
Bernie smiled. He was safe now; it didn't matter what she thought any more. "Okay, you got me. But I've not done nothing to your Granddad. He's safe as houses, him and Chesterton. They're probably sittin' comfortably in a police cell while they help 'em with some enquiries."
Her frown darkened. "Then how did you get into the ship?"
Bernie waved the key. "Half-inched this when I was givin' him a farewell hug, didn't I? Easy."
Susan looked confused. "But you still couldn't have opened the door! The TARDIS lock should have... unless the biometric seal's been disabled, I suppose...?"
Yep, definitely crazy, thought Bernie. A crazy girl in a crazy place. Except for being stuck with her now, this was the perfect set-up. Plenty of room, and nobody would come looking for him here.
So, what to do about the surplus teenager? She was making her way back from planet dream, probably thinking about jumping him if she had any sense. Yep, there she was, quietly picking up some sort of tool and hiding it behind her back. Bernie pretended he hadn't noticed.
"Okay, Bernard, what are you planning to do next?" She was manoeuvring now, getting into position to whack him. That was fine; he was ready.
"Do? I've had enough of doin'. I'm just goin' to sit around here, wait a while. For the next three weeks, as a matter of fact."
"Why three weeks?" She seemed genuinely interested; half her attention was on what he was saying. Definitely not one of nature's natural streetfighters.
"Oh, that would be tellin'. You'll see soon enough, I expect. In fact, I... woah!" The whole room shifted sideways. At the same time, faster than he would have expected, she swung at him. Sneaky. No time to grab her weapon, so he flung up an arm to protect himself and felt the pain as the metal made contact - nothing broken, probably, but that was going to leave a mighty bruise. He turned his stagger into a sweep, and knocked Susan's legs out from under her; she hit her head on the edge of the console as she went down, and lay still.
* * *
Ian saw Barbara as she left the main building, a piece of paper clutched in her hand. He sidled around the corner of the vehicle he was using for cover and hissed at her.
"Barbara!"
She turned, and rushed over to him. "Oh, Ian, I was getting worried. Where's the Doctor?"
"Arrested by the police," he whispered. "They're after me, too - we were framed for a robbery, and they weren't in the mood to talk."
She looked shocked. "So that's what those two men were talking about - I did wonder if it was connected, somehow. Is that why you took Susan back to the TARDIS?"
"What? I haven't seen her. What made you think that?" She held out the napkin; he read the message Susan had written. "We'd better get after her, Barbara. Can you take point and tell me if there are any police or soldiers around?"
"I'll do my best."
Barbara set the pace, leading the way from cover to cover, watching carefully and signalling Ian when it was safe for him to cross. Five minutes later they were in the area where the TARDIS had landed. The place was much emptier now, the stacks of packing cases noticeable by their absence. The ship was nowhere to be seen.
"Where is it? Ian, what's happened to the TARDIS?"
"I don't know." He looked around, and spotted a workman in orange overalls sweeping. "Excuse me, but do you know anything about the blue box that was standing here?"
The workman looked up. "The one with the light on the top? I remember that one. For Queen of the Sky, wasn't it?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Yeah, I remember now. It definitely had a green tag. It'll be on the Queen alright."
Barbara stepped forward. "Do you mean that it's been loaded onto a ship?"
The workman rolled his eyes. "Well, duh! This is a loading bay."
Ian and Barbara exchanged a glance. "And where can we find this Queen of the Skies now?"
The workman laughed, once. "I dunno. Look up? It left for the Jovian colonies twenty minutes ago.
"Right now, your box is on its way to Jupiter."
Next Time:
Strange Worlds
