The first thing Jamie did as they left the TARDIS was to find himself a solid, tough-looking stick.
‘What’s that for?’ asked Ben.
Jamie looked at him in surprise. ‘Have you forgotten what we saw on the scanner?’
‘I asked you not to talk about it,’ said Polly.
‘I’m no’ talking,’ said Jamie, ‘but I’m no’ going to get caught without something to defend us with.’
He lashed out a couple of times with the stick to show what he intended.
Ben grinned.
They didn’t think the Doctor was paying any attention, but he said thoughtfully, ‘I’m afraid you’re wasting your time, Jamie.’
‘Why?’
The Doctor pushed ahead as he said, ‘Unless I’m very much mistaken, these creatures are of such a nature that they are going to see us long before we see them.’
It was said in such a calm, matter-of-fact way that the other three followed in subdued silence. What had the Doctor guessed, they wondered? He didn’t seem to have given any thought to the creature on the scanner, yet now he was speaking with the quiet confidence they knew so well. None of them liked to question him further, and it was an apprehensive trio that followed him towards a patch of rocks and trees.
Medok saw the strangers coming. He had no option. They would soon be on top of him. He had to make a break for it.
‘Look out, Jamie!’ Polly shouted.
She was too late. A man had leapt from the rocks beside them and grappled with Jamie, struggling to snatch the wooden club from him.
‘Hang on!’ shouted Ben. ‘I’ll drag him off.’
They pinned the man to the ground.
‘Gently, gently,’ coaxed the Doctor. ‘I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt you.’
For once the Doctor was clearly wrong, and the prisoner lashed out, kicking and struggling to his feet again. He would have broken away but for a flying tackle by Ben. They went down in a heap with Ben on top. Jamie’s stick went flying, landing at the feet of three total strangers who emerged panting from the woods.
They looked with amazement at Medok on the ground, pinned there by Ben and Jamie.
It was Ola who got his breath back first. He saluted the Doctor. ‘I don’t know who you are,’ he said. ‘But you have done us a great service, and we are very grateful.’
Medok made a last desperate effort to free himself. Ola signalled to the two guards. ‘Help the strangers,’ he said. They soon had Medok’s arms tied behind his back.
Ola continued. He was a man of some pompous dignity, and for a moment it seemed to the Doctor that he was giving a lecture – or perhaps repeating some message he had been taught. ‘You must understand,’ said Ola, ‘we have very few patients in our hospitals in the Colony. That is, none with the exception of this poor fellow, Medok. We are doing all we can for him, but he is more dangerous every day. Suffers from delusions, I’m afraid.’ He frowned and took a sharp look at the Doctor and his friends. ‘I don’t think we have had any information that there were to be strangers in our district today.’
‘Very likely,’ said the Doctor. ‘Indeed, probably not.’ He had squatted down on the ground and was now scarcely paying any attention to Ola, but appeared to be examining the soil in preoccupied fashion, scraping together a little of the earth and running it through his fingers.
A couple of other security guards carne hurrying through the wood. Ola called to them. He was scribbling a note on a pocket book.
‘Here!’ He gave the note to the guards. ‘Hurry back to the Colony. Give this to the Pilot. He must know at once what has happened.’
The guards went off at a trot.
‘The Pilot?’ questioned Ben. Wasn’t that a word the Doctor had used before?
Ola nodded. ‘The Pilot of our Colony. No doubt he will wish to thank you in person.’
He examined the cord binding Medok. ‘Tighter,’ he ordered. ‘You don’t want him racing off again!’
Jamie stood by the Doctor as he crouched on the ground. ‘Any point asking?’
‘Asking where we are?’ grinned the Doctor.
Jamie nodded.
‘Well, by my calculations,’ said the Doctor, ‘we’re certainly in the future. Most certainly in
your
future. And we’re on a planet very like the Earth.’
‘How do you know?’ Jamie was always sceptical.
The Doctor winked up at him, still running the soil through his hands. ‘I don’t
know
,’ he said. ‘But I rather like to guess.’
He smelt the dust in his palm. ‘Hmm,’ he said thoughtfully.
‘My name is Ola.’ The man stood before them and gave a brief bow. ‘I am Chief of Police.’
‘That sounds very important,’ said Polly.
‘It is,’ said Ola. ‘The responsibility is considerable. We carry out instructions from our Control Centre. That is our main function, and it works well.’ He waved his hand airily as he moved off. ‘You will see. Please, follow me.’
As the Doctor passed they were still tying Medok up. The Doctor leant forward confidentially. ‘Not too tight,’ he said softly. ‘So bad for the blood pressure.’ He smiled cheerfully and trotted after the others.
They recognised the entrance to the Colony from the pictures they had already seen on the TARDIS scanner. The gates were open in welcoming fashion, and a crowd waited to cheer them.
As they arrived a tune was playing over the sound system. It was a pleasant little jingle, and reminded Ben of his boyhood days in the holiday camp. Oddly enough, he felt the same determination that everyone should have a good time, that there were to be no dull moments.
The Doctor must have sensed his thoughts, for he murmured, ‘How exhausting.’
The jingle stopped as they carne through the gates, and a cheerful voice took over, singing briskly: ‘Thank you, Shift Number One... Time to have fun... Now Shift Number Two... It’s up to you.’
The Doctor winced slightly.
The disernbodied voice continued: ‘Off to work with a song... And you’re merry and bright all day long.’
Waiting to receive them was the other man they had seen on the scanner. Ola saluted him.
‘Pilot, these are the strangers who helped us...’
The Pilot raised a hand. ‘I’ve already had your note, Ola. I understand. I will look after our guests. I am sure you will want to go and take care of poor Medok. You may leave.’
He dismissed Ola then turned to the Doctor. ‘We welcome you with our thanks. You must indeed be a brave man to have subdued a fanatic as disturbed as Medok. He is strong and dangerous.’
The Doctor gave a modest shrug. ‘It was nothing. Anyone would have done the same.’
Jamie and Ben looked at one another. Neither could recall the Doctor having lifted a hand to help.
But the Doctor was now looking round the colourful crowd, with flags waving, music playing, tents flapping, and the carnival moving into top gear.
‘This is all very cheerful,’ he said. ‘Is it always like this in your Colony? Is there always this music?’
The Pilot nodded. ‘We believe in it. We regulate our day by music. It keeps things merry and bright. It eases the burdens...’
‘Ah yes,’ the Doctor cut in.
‘Now I suggest you take advantage of our Refreshing Department after your adventures?’
‘Good thinking,’ said Ben. ‘Lead me to it. I’m starving.’
The Pilot smiled. ‘You will, of course, eat later. But first we revive the weary body. That is the refreshment we supply in this place.’
He led the way, with the Doctor trotting behind him. Polly and Ben were about to join them when Jamie muttered, ‘Keep your eyes skinned.’
‘What’s up?’ asked Ben.
‘I don’t know,’ whispered Jamie. ‘I canna put my finger on it, but they’re a weird lot. All this laughing and singing. It’s not natural.’
‘Not natural North of the Border,’ grinned Ben.
‘I’m telling you,’ said Jamie grimly. ‘There’s something funny going on.’
‘Keep laughing!’ mocked Ben. He hurried after the others.
There was nothing else for it. Jamie followed, but he was very wary.
‘This is the Refreshing Department,’ said the Pilot with a gesture that took in the splendid hall in which they found themselves. It was an unexpected sight, with a bevy of attractive girls in the costumes of attendants at a health farm or a fashionable spa.
To either side were cubicles – white, clinicl, brightly lit – and beyond a number of exercise areas with steam baths, mud baths, massage tables, and a collection of instruments that filled Jamie with alarm.
The others, however, were taking things very happily.
Even the Doctor looked round with approval.
‘A wash and brush-up indeed,’ he remarked.
On one wall a huge television screen dominated the hall.
‘Switch on,’ called the Pilot. ‘Control wish to welcome the strangers in person.’
One of the girls hurried to obey and the screen lit up. Smiling down at the newcomers was a fine-looking man in his late forties. An ideal father-figure, noted the Doctor.
‘Who’s that?’ asked Polly.
‘Our Controlier.’ The Pilot did not disguise his admiration and respect.
‘He’s really something,’ Polly whispered.
The Doctor looked on with a puzzled air as the man on the screen began to speak. ‘We wish to extend a sincere and joyful welcome to the visitors to our Colony. We are very grateful to them. They have performed a valuable service. Everyone is to make our guests happy and contented during their stay. Welcome again, friends... Now, back to work, all shifts.’
The screen went blank, and there was a ripple of applause from those watching.
‘Can’t wait,’ said Ben.
‘He was slighly out of sync,’ mused the Doctor.
‘Out of what?’ Polly frowned.
‘His lips and his words didn’t exactly synchronise. The sound was a fraction later than the movement.’
The other three blinked at him.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ asked Ben.
The Doctor smiled. ‘Funny way to speak, don’t you think?’
The Pilot joined them, leading a round-faced, jovial little man.
‘This is our supervisor in this department, Barney. Everyone calls him “dear old Barney”! I’m going to put you in his capable hands. And willing hands make light work, you know. I have work to do, so I must leave you. And hard work never did anyone any harm.’
‘Why that clap-trap?’ thought Ben. But the Pilot was already on his way in lordly style, leaving Barney fussing round them.
‘Delighted to see you,’ he said, ‘Delighted to have you with us.’ They all seemed to speak this way, like the organisers in a real holiday camp.
Barney indicated the apparatus round the hall of which he was obviously very proud. ‘You have a complete choice of all our treatments. Just say the word,’ he said. ‘Steam baths, beauty treatments, massage. And of course you want all your clothes cleaned... Then there is sun-ray treatment... Moonlight treatment... Sparking and effervescent sprays...’ He appeared to be concentrating on the Doctor, who looked a little reserved.
‘I feel perfectly all right as I am,’ said the Doctor stiffly.
‘Well, I know what I want,’ said Polly. ‘Can I have a shampoo?’
‘Of course, dear lady.’ Barney beamed his delight. He snapped his fingers, and they were immediately surrounded by attendants.
‘A shampoo for the lady,’ called Barney.
Polly was hustled off to a glittering alcove while Jamie looked on with apprehension.
‘And now the young gentlemen.’ Barney bowed towards Ben and jamie. ‘We have the latest in regeneration treatments. If you will just come into this special compartment...’
Jamie was appalled. ‘Me? You’re not going to do anything like that to me! I’m no lassie!’
Ben shook his head. ‘It’s no good, Jamie. The lassies have got you!’ They were surrounded by a crowd of girls, coaxing and smiling their encouragement. Jamie was helpless as he was led away.
Ben called after him, ‘And believe me, mate, I’m not going to put up much of a struggle!’ He let himself be escorted to a further cubicle.
Barney turned with pleasure to the Doctor. ‘And now, sir. You?’
The Doctor looked at him blankly.
It wasn’t often the Doctor allowed himself and his friends to be so completely separated. For all his comic attitudes and clowning he kept a watchful eye on them. But now they had been split up, and two of them at least – Polly and Ben – were enjoying themselves.
Ben basked in rays of artificial sunshine. ‘Could be on the Med,’ he told the attentive girls around him.
‘Protective oils for our guest,’ ordered Barney.
‘This is the life,’ murmured Ben.
And the Doctor caught a glimpse of Polly as she carne out from behind her beauty mask. The scatter-brained, kooky, vivacious blonde with the long legs had vanished and become a glamorous woman.
Only Jamie failed to respond as they put the finishing touches to him, turning the tough little Highlander into a courtly gentleman. It didn’t sit well on Jamie’s shoulders.
‘Call the ladies away,’ he pleaded with Barney. ‘I’m feared what they’ll do to me.’
‘You look charming, sir. Positively charming,’ Barney assured him.
‘That’s why I’m feared,’ said Jamie.
And when the Doctor emerged from the cubicle in which he had tolerated treatment, he was a changed man. Gone was the casual disarray, the crumpled clothes, the untidy hair, the general air of confusion – and in his place was a neat, tidy, well turned-out academic – hair plastered down, shoes shining!
‘Let me out!’ he called. ‘I’m done to a turn!’
He appeared to be starched from top to toe, walking like a robot.
‘Doctor! You look marvellous,’ Polly greeted him.
He looked in horror at his shoes. ‘My shoes!’
‘Fantastic,’ agreed Ben. ‘You can see your face in them.’
‘Who wants to see his face in a pair of shoes?’ demanded the Doctor.
He spun round. ‘What’s this thing?’ He banged his fist on a tank-like contraption.
Barney explained. ‘A rough-and-tumble machine, sir. For toning up the muscles.’
‘Just what I need.’ There was no stopping the Doctor. He opened the metal door and disappeared inside.
‘Not with your clothes on –’ begged Barney.
The engine whirred into life, and they could hear him calling cheerfully, ‘Great! Wonderful!’