Chapter Eight

The Martian leader turned to Greyhaven. 'A human in the crowd iss ussing a ssonic device. You informed uss that your race had no ssuch technology,' he spat.

'We haven't,' Greyhaven said coolly.

Xznaal hissed an order into the air.

A globe materialised in the space between them: a hologram. The image was a panning shot of the crowd, presumably from a camera mounted on the hull. Now the picture moved with more purpose, and began zooming in on a section directly below them.

Standing by a police box was a man and a woman. She was tall and leggy, and had adopted a tomboy look: short hair and a baggy, garish jumper. Her companion was just as striking: a man with shoulder-length hair in a full-length Victorian housecoat. They were both peering upwards at the ship. He was holding something aloft - a microphone, perhaps, or a measuring instrument of some kind.

'I know him,' Greyhaven said quietly.

'Who iss he?' Xznaal demanded.

'He was at Mission Control this morning. Do you remember, David?'

The Home Secretary shrugged. 'Yes, I think so. It was the chap that didn't know who you were.'

Greyhaven silenced him with a glare.

'I sshall desstroy them.'

'No!' Greyhaven shouted.

Xznaal hissed his displeasure.

'Xznaal, everyone on the planet is watching this spacecraft. There are a million people down there in that crowd. At the moment, they are nervous. They don't understand the benefits of co-operation with the Martians. Their reaction will be the same as Staines' - horror, terror.'

Xznaal stepped back. 'That iss how it sshould be,' he wheezed.

'If you open fire, all the human clans will panic. My people will work with you willingly, given a little time. Better, surely, that my soldiers capture the man. That way you could question him.'

'You are a wisse counssel, Gerayhavunn. We sshall bring those humans aboard. 'He barked another order into the air.