Free Doctor Who: The Devil Goblins From Neptune by Keith Topping, Martin Day

sixth driver at least had the courtesy to slow a little before deciding against giving him a lift. Encouraged by this slight sign of interest, the Doctor gestured with his thumb enthusiastically when the next vehicle passed. It was a clapped-out old Volkswagen van, its pockmarked, rust-etched surface covered with poorly painted flowers against a purple starscape. It screeched to a halt, then backed up at such alarming speed that the Doctor began to fear for his life. The brakes slammed on again just in time. The passenger door flew open. 'Get in, man.' came the strangled-sounding voice from the front.
    The Doctor hauled himself into position with his most winning smile fixed to his face, but found he had little need to impress.
    'Wow, man,' said the hippie at the wheel, staring at the Doctor's clothing. 'Dig the groovy gear.'
    The Doctor smiled and thanked the man profusely, pulling the door shut. Next to him, on the double-sized passenger seat, was a young pregnant woman who wore similar beads and loose clothes to those of the driver. Both seemed happy to see him - the woman immediately started talking, as if they were long-lost friends - and the Doctor's relief at getting out of the cold was genuine.
    'So, you're coming back from the specially extended happening, too?' asked the woman, cranking up the van's heater another notch.
    The Doctor smiled. 'Let me put it this way - I had quite an experience today'
    'Far out sighed the girl. 'Good to see the breadheads didn't win out today. Why shouldn't Rose do what he wants on his land?' 'Absolutely.' The Doctor nodded. 'Decent enough chap, Rose.' 'That's what they reckon,' said the driver.
    The young woman noticed the red patch on the Doctor's jacket for the first time. 'Hey, man, are you all right?'
    'Oh, don't worry about that,' replied the Doctor. 'I just caught myself on some barbed wire, that's all.'
    'Bad karma,' replied the driver. 'Man, me and my chick were at Tamworth for the Byrds. It was heavy.' wire everywhere. Too many day-trippers. We had to blow the scene, the vibes were wrong.
    The girl rummaged in the pockets of her kaftan. 'Smoke?'
    'No, thank you, my dear. I've had quite enough excitement for one day.' The Doctor held his hands in front of one of the warm air vents. 'Tell me, did you see the lights in the sky on Thursday night?'
    The couple both grinned like children, nodding furiously.
    'It was, like, so together,' said the driver, tapping with the wheel to a half-remembered beat. The lights were groovy stars, all dancing their thing.'
    'Really. And did these "stars" fall to Earth?'
    'Yeah,' said the woman. 'Right at the end. They came down in the sea.'
    'They?'
    'The dwellers in the celestial temple, man,' said the driver, smiling, as if stating the obvious. 'They wanted to communicate.'
    'Talking of which,' said the Doctor brightly, 'I see from that sign there's a phone box coming up. I'd be most grateful if you could just pull up over there and allow me to contact my friends.'
    'Sure,' said the man. 'Whatever you want.'
     
    The Doctor waited by the phone box, somewhat anxiously eyeing his new friends. He still hadn't told them whom he'd phoned, or the nature of the help they were able to offer, and was unsure how they'd react when the Brigadier steamed into view. He'd suggested that they leave him, but some misguided loyalty ('Just to see you're OK, man') kept them with him.
    A rusting old van, a phone box in some benighted lay-by, two charming but ultimately rather irritating hippies. The perfect tableau with which to end a frustrating couple of days, thought the Doctor rather sourly.
    Sometime later a convoy of jeeps and APCs appeared.
    The Brigadier stood in the front of the lead vehicle, swagger stick under his arm. Even from a distance the Doctor could see the man's moustache bristling.
    The Doctor risked a sideways glance at the couple. They seemed frightened now, rabbits before headlights, considering a break for freedom but impotent before a greater