Free Doctor Who: Space War by Malcolm Hulke Page B

required. The Prison Governor entered, a tall man in black tunic and trousers. With him were four Security guards, all armed. He walked down the line of prisoners, eyeing them, then stopped to speak.
    ‘I am the Governor of this penal colony. There is one rule here—to obey. If you behave you will be reasonably treated. If you misbehave you will be very badly treated. You are no longer people, you are things—my playthings. You have absolutely no rights, and there is no means of escape. Remember that you are here for the rest of your lives. Why isn’t that man in uniform?’
    The question seemed so much part of the speech that at first the armband man didn’t react. When he did he sprang to attention.
    ‘Don’t know, sir. That’s how they sent him.’
    ‘See he’s kitted out immediately,’ said the Governor and left the room.
    The armband man stepped forward. ‘Now listen, all of you. My name’s Cross. and that’s my nature. I run a quiet, tidy section here. Any trouble from you and it’s a black mark against me. So there’s never any trouble. Got it?’
    Doughty again spoke up. ‘You talk as though you run this prison. Don’t you realise you’re really one of us? We’re all victims of the system!’
    ‘You,’ said Cross, ‘are making yourself highly eligible for the punishment block.’
    But Doughty wasn’t listening. His attention was riveted on an older prisoner who had just wandered in from one of the corridors. The newcomer had white hair and a long, sensitive face.
    ‘Professor Dale,’ said Doughty in awe.
    Cross sneered. ‘Yes, a real professor among us. You’ll find a lot of your intellectual friends up here.’ He spun round to the professor. ‘This prisoner in the frilly shirt,’ he shouted, indicating the Doctor. ‘Get him kitted out double quick.’ He turned away and strutted off down the corridor where the Governor had gone.
    Professor Dale came across to Doughty, the man who had recognised him. ‘Welcome to prison,’ he said, wryly. ‘You were on our Youth Committee, weren’t you?’
    The two men shook hands. ‘That’s right, professor. We met last year just before your arrest.’
    ‘You’ll be in good company here,’ said the older man. ‘I sometimes think there are more members of the Peace Party in this terrible prison than back on earth!’
    ‘If I may ask,’ said the Doctor, ‘does anyone ever try to escape?’
    The professor reacted with suspicion. ‘Occasionally. Come with me. I’ll get you a uniform.’
    The Doctor hurried after Professor Dale. ‘I was asking you a simple question.’
    Dale did not reply until they arrived at a cupboard containing shelves of prison uniforms. ‘Let’s see.’ he said, measuring the Doctor with his eyes, ‘you’re quite tall. I think you’ll be size number fourteen or fifteen.’ He reached up for a pair of trousers.
    ‘Let me ask another question,’ said the Doctor. ‘What do we do all day here?’
    ‘There is no day and no night. We’re on the Moon. We go to bed when we feel like it. Food, that is to say tasteless soup, is served at regular intervals. We pass the time playing three-dimensional chess, listening to audio-books, pursuing handicrafts, and forming discussion groups. Try these on.’ Dale offered the trousers to the Doctor.
    ‘Do you ever discuss escape?’ asked the Doctor, slipping off his own trousers.
    ‘Of course not,’ said Dale. He looked around uneasily. ‘If you want to know, there was an escape attempt last month. The three men involved were all killed. Why are you asking about escape?’
    The Doctor pulled on the prison trousers. They fitted fairly well. ‘Because it’s what I intend to do.’
    ‘Are you a spy for the Governor, trying to draw me out?’
    The Doctor looked at the man. ‘If I were, I’d scarcely draw attention to myself so quickly.’
    ‘A fine point of logic. Are you a member of the Peace Party?’
    ‘I don’t even know what it stands for,’ said the Doctor.