Chapter Seven

Greyhaven leant over the soldier and unplugged the telephone's battery. 'Oops, we seem to be having technical difficulties. It must be interference from the Martian ship. Are you coming, Staines?'

'Yes, I suppose so.'

Greyhaven walked over to his car, and unlocked the boot. He pulled out an Adidas sports bag.

'Are you going to challenge them to a game of squash?' Halliwell asked witheringly.

Greyhaven didn't reply.

'Get Christian,' Staines ordered her sternly, before he followed Greyhaven across.

'What's going on?' Benny asked.

A hatch was dilating open on the underside of the craft. The light inside wasn't that bright, but it stood in stark contrast to the gloomy metalwork of the rest of the ship. The crowd were getting agitated, perhaps thinking that it was a weapon of some kind. A black disc appeared in the hatchway, and it began descending in a perfectly straight line.

The Doctor stared up. 'They are sending down a platform. A lift car, I would imagine.' He checked his pocket watch. 'Dead on time. The message said that they wanted the British leader to surrender in person.' The crowd were pointing and muttering.

Benny was looking down at the ground. 'I don't see the Queen or Mr - Hang on, that's the Home Secretary. And that rocket man, er... '

'Lord Edward Greyhaven,' the Doctor supplied.

'Who died and made him boss?'

The Doctor considered Bernice's question for a moment, before he remembered that it was a figure of speech.

'This is no time for flippancy, Bernice,' he chided her.

The disc had reached the ground. Lord Greyhaven and the Home Secretary walked over and stepped onto it. Before they had stopped moving, the disc was rising steadily into the air. There were appreciative gasps from the crowd.