Doctor Who_ Timewyrm_ Exodus - Part 17
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Part 17

Bormann glowed with quiet pride. Such moments of praise justified his whole existence. "I shall be at hand if you need me, my Fuehrer." He bowed and withdrew with his piles of papers.

Hitler walked to one of a pair of armchairs by the window, waving the Doctor to another. He stared out of the window for a moment. The remnants of the torchlight procession winding, through the streets of Nuremberg were still visible.

Do these people ever get tired of worshipping their Fuehrer? thought the Doctor. And does he ever get tired of being worshipped? In the glow of the lamp, Hitler's face looked haggard, even haunted. After a long silence, he spoke in a low, hesitant voice. "When we met in Munich, in my darkest hour, you told me that the day would come, when I should rule Germany.

Tonight, you said that even then you knew. . . " The Doctor bowed his head.

"How did you know?" asked Hitler hoa.r.s.ely.

The Doctor paused, wondering what to say. Even in talking to Hitler he was interfering in history. As always, it was a dangerous thing to do. The results of that interference could spread like the ripples from a stone thrown into a pond. The end result could be catastrophic. Yet, if he didn't interfere, how could he prevent that perversion of history that had resulted in a n.a.z.i-occupied Britain? Instinct told him to speak only the truth. "I have travelled greatly over the years, both in s.p.a.ce and in time. That is how I knew, even then, that your name would loom large in history."

Hitler seized on the essential point, and interpreted it in his own way.

"Travel in time? Ah, in the mind, in visions. You are a mystic, like the good Doctor Kriegslieter." He leaned forward, blue eyes blazing. "And now, here and now, Doctor, can you still see what is to come? Can you tell me my fate sixteen years hence, as you did sixteen years ago?" Sixteen years?

thought the Doctor. You've barely got six, you poor deluded madman. Six years and you'll be dead, by your own hand. Your Thousand Year Reich will be in ruins, and most of your henchmen on trial for their lives, here in Nuremberg. That's your n.a.z.i destiny, Adolf Hitler, and I'm going to make sure you fulfil it. Because otherwise... Otherwise this evil regime will spread over all the world -perhaps, in time, throughout the cosmos - a monstrous perversion of true history.

Hitler's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Well, Doctor? Can you see what is to come?"

The truth, but not the whole truth, thought the Doctor. Aloud he said, "Some things. No one sees everything."

Hitler rose and began pacing restlessly up and down. "Six years ago I seized supreme power, and since then, what I wanted I have taken.

Austria, the Sudetenland, Czechoslovakia - all these are but steps in my master plan. Next comes Poland, then Russia, then Persia and India, the original homes of the Aryan race." Hitler's movements grew faster and more jerky and his voice began rising with his excitement. He saw the Doctor's calm grey eyes regarding him, and made an effort to regain control.

"As I said, the next step is Poland. For this reason alone, I have made a treaty of friendship with the Bolshevik sc.u.m in Russia."

The Doctor nodded. "With secret clauses, dividing Poland between you making sure the Russians won't interfere."

Hitler swung round in amazement. "How could you possibly know that?"

The Doctor held up his hand. "As I told you, some things I can see."

"Then tell me this. The British have guaranteed to help Poland if I attack.

But I am sure they will not honour their word. I am right, am I not?"

"No," said the Doctor. "You are wrong."

Adolf Hitler went rigid with shock. "What did you say?" That's done it, thought the Doctor. Probably n.o.body's told him he's wrong for the last six years.

Angrily Hitler bore down on the Doctor. "How dare you say this, to me! Do you realize that you are addressing the supreme ruler of Germany? I can have you shot!"

The Doctor sat calmly in his chair, unmoving and unmoved. "If you only want the advice of people who will agree with every word you say - this hotel is full of them. Simply snap your fingers. I can only tell you what I know. As soon as you invade Poland, the British will declare war."

With a mighty effort, Hitler controlled his anger. "Very well, then tell me this. If I attack Poland, will the Russians keep their part of the bargain?"

"As long as you keep yours."

"And if I fight the British and their allies will I defeat them?"

The Doctor was thinking furiously. Once again it was a time for truth - up to a point. "Your armies will sweep through Europe in a lightning war - France, Belgium, Holland. . .

"And England?" whispered Hitler hoa.r.s.ely. "What of England?"

"That I cannot tell you."

Once more Hitler was striding up and down. "Then 'I' will tell you!" he screamed. "If the English resist me I shall destroy them. Anyone who resists me will be destroyed. I shall annihilate them all! Poland, Russia, India, Asia! All will be ground under my heel. I shall be supreme ruler of all the world."

The Doctor sat quite still in his chair. Something very odd was happening.

As. .h.i.tler strode ranting to and fro power was emanating from him in waves.

It wasn't just the power of the orator, the power the Doctor had felt at the rally, though that had been strong enough.

This was something different, a fiercer, wilder power. It was physical power, too. The air was filled with a rushing wind, curtains billowed, ornaments flew through the air and smashed against the wall.

"I shall destroy this planet," screamed Hitler in a voice that was nothing like his own. "I shall bring down destruction on every planet in the galaxy."

He picked up his ma.s.sive desk and hurled it against the wall, smashing the heavy piece of furniture to fragments.

"I shall destroy the universe!"

The Doctor did a nimble backwards somersault and took shelter behind his own overturned armchair. Cautiously he peered over the side. Hitler was rampaging round the room, smashing aside anything in his path, and bellowing ever louder threats of cosmic doom. Behind him the energy-storm swept through the room like a wind, hurling paintings, ornaments, books and papers through the air.

Suddenly he seemed to become aware of the Doctor.

He stalked towards him, his eyes glowing with fiery madness. "I knew we should meet again, Doctor! Only this time you do not have your TARDIS to protect you. This time i shall destroy you!" Hitler's hand flashed out and a bolt of psychic energy shattered into matchwood the armchair behind which the Doctor had been hiding. The Doctor, however, had rolled aside. He sprang to his feet, poised, looking for more shelter.

There was none.

Hitler, who seemed taller now, with a strange silvery glow around him, stalked towards the Doctor, claw-like hands outstretched, as if to rend him limb from limb. The Doctor backed away.

A last minute dash for the door - if he could make it, but he didn't fancy his chances. Suddenly Hitler gave one last terrible howl, his body arched, and he dropped limply to the ground.

Psychic overload, thought the Doctor. Suppose he's dead?

Outside the door, Martin Bormann had been listening in mounting anguish.

The sequence of events he had learned to fear was beginning again. The Fuehrer's voice raised in anger, the inhuman screams, the terrible sounds of destruction. The final howl and the thud of the falling body were just too much for him. Dreading what he would find he ran into the room, revolver in hand. The man called the Doctor was kneeling beside the Fuehrer's body.

Bormann raised his revolver. "Get away from him!"

"Put that away, you fool," snapped the Doctor. "The Fuehrer has had an attack of nervous hysteria. A brain storm."

There was such authority in his voice that Bormann automatically holstered his revolver. "Should I send for a doctor?"

"I am a doctor." The Doctor was examining the unconscious. .h.i.tler. "Has anything like this happened before?"

"Yes, several times."

"When, at what times?"

"Always late at night, when he is tired and alone."

"What happens?"

"No one knows. We hear terrible screaming and find him like this."

"Is the room always wrecked?"

"Always. Destruction such as you would not believe."

"Has there ever been anyone with him before?"

Martin Bormann lifted Hitler carefully on to the ma.s.sive sofa. "Only once. It was at the time of the Czechoslovakian crisis. The Fuehrer was seeing someone from the General Staff late at night."

"What happened?"

"The man must have angered the Fuehrer, and I heard the Fuehrer begin to shout. Then I heard a terrible scream. When I ran in the room was wrecked, the man was dead and the Fuehrer was as he is now."

"How did the man die?"

"The diagnosis was heart failure."

"And what was he like, the man who died?"

Bormann gaped at him.

"Old, young, fat, thin?" snapped the Doctor.

"In his sixties, rather fat. A senior Staff Officer, a General."

"I imagine the diagnosis was accurate," murmured the Doctor. "The shock of seeing what I've just seen. . . "

Bormann loosened Hitler's collar. "The strange thing is, the attacks never come when he is with me - and we are frequently working together late at night, like this."

"That isn't difficult to explain. You seem to have a calming effect on the Fuehrer. In my opinion he will be most vulnerable to the attacks when he is excited or enraged - especially if he is already tired. I saw for myself tonight. We were discussing his plans, he became angry, not at me but at the English - and this followed."

"Yet you survived it, you calmed him?"

"I did what I could," said the Doctor gravely.

"Can you help him, Doctor?" asked Bormann eagerly. "He thinks highly of you, I know, he was speaking of you earlier."

"I will do what I can," said the Doctor solemnly. "But I shall need your help."

"Anything," said Martin Bormann fervently. "Anything at all. Anyone who can help the Fuehrer through this crisis commands my total loyalty."

The Doctor looked down at the sleeping Hitler. "Does he remember anything afterwards?"

"I don't think so. He never refers to what has happened."

"Get him to bed," said the Doctor. "Get this place cleaned up, and, above all, see no one talks."

"No one will talk," said Martin Bormann grimly. "Tomorrow it will be as if this had never happened."

Until the next time, thought the Doctor. He looked sternly at Bormann.

"Above all, encourage him to remain calm, to avoid stress. . . "

And that's a fine piece of advice for someone who's just about to start World War II, thought the Doctor as he made his way back to his suite.

Inside he found Ace striding agitatedly up and down. Wrapped in a handsome silk dressing gown, property of the hotel, she looked quite different.

She really is turning into quite a handsome young woman, thought the Doctor. Could be a problem for someone someday.

She still sounded like the same old Ace though. "Where have you been, Professor?" she yelled.

Oh well, thought the Doctor, even Professor Higgins had his problems. He looked at Ace and said, "The rain in Spain. . ."

Ace didn't want to know about the rain in Spain.

"Some sort of ruckus woke me up and I came to your room to look for you, and there you were gone, and the bed not slept in. I thought that horrible Himmler had changed his mind and come and nicked you after all."

"Don't be silly," said the Doctor. "If he'd done that, he'd have nicked you as well."

"So what's been happening?" demanded Ace.

The Doctor told her.

When he'd finished, Ace said, "Sounds like he threw a major wobbly."

"What my old nurse used to call a really nasty turn," agreed the Doctor.

"But it was more sinister than that."

"How?"

"Well, there were the paranormal effects for a start, flying flowerpots, all that kind of thing."

"Don't you get that sort of stuff happening around disturbed adolescents in a tantrum?" suggested Ace. "Maybe old Adolph's just a r.e.t.a.r.ded teenager."

"Hitler as poltergeist," murmured the Doctor. "It's an intriguing theory. But what about all those things he was shouting?"

"Basic paranoid stuff, surely?"

"Cosmic paranoid stuff," corrected the Doctor. "Hitler might fantasize about destroying a city or even a country, but whole planets? Galaxies? The universe? Outside his range, surely? And there's something else."