Doctor Who and the Scales of Injustice | Page 7

from the stores that she'd thudded into a new young private,
Boyle, who'd offered to take her box up to the lab.
'It's on the second floor,' she explained. 'Can you find it?'
Boyle had saluted in the way that all newcomers to UNIT did - a combination of
eagerness to please anyone who might be an officer even if they weren't in uniform, and
pleasure at seeing a young woman about the place and marched off with the box,
muttering that he couldn't wait to introduce himself to the Doctor, about whom he'd heard
so much.
For a top-secret organization, Liz thought wryly, there's a lot of gossip about UNIT going
on in the regular army. Still, UNIT probably wasn't considered the greatest of postings,
and the rumours of danger and high casualty rates must far outweigh the truth.
On the other hand, UNIT's mortality rate was the highest of any section of the British
Army, and some information about that was definitely in circulation - Liz knew of at least
three privates who had requested duty in Northern Ireland rather than serve in UNIT. And
Liz had to acknowledge that, to Lethbridge-Stewart's credit, he never attempted to

strong-arm any of the soldiers who had made that decision; he simply accepted their
refusal and moved on to the next potential recruit.
And now UNIT was being investigated financially. Liz had been aware from the day she
had joined that UNIT was not as well funded as it ought to be. Special weaponry and the
latest electronic gadgets, most classified as top- secret, were the staple diet of Mister
Campbell and his stores. Designing and prototyping these items cost what UNIT's
opposite numbers in the CIA referred to as 'the big bucks'. The British branch of UNIT
didn't have big bucks or even medium bucks, and while its equipment might be decades
ahead of state-of-the-art commercial technology, it was lagging behind its rivals.
'Good morning, Miss Shaw,' said Mike Yates, carrying an armful of rifles.
She nodded back at the handsome sergeant, thinking not for the first time how his rather
public-school good looks reminded her of some hero of a boy's comic from the fifties, or
an Eileen Soper illustration of one of Enid Blyton's intrepid child adventurers. Mike and
Liz had shared a couple of tense situations, and while Liz would never claim they were
close friends, she did feel a certain bond with the young sergeant.
She remembered that the Brigadier had already asked for her opinion on Yates as
possible captain material. If honesty, integrity and reliability were essential requirements
for a military promotion, then Mike Yates fitted the bill perfectly.
'Where are you off to with that lot?' she asked, nodding at the armaments.
'Stores. Being put away for a rainy day.'
Liz frowned.
'Well.' Mike shrugged his shoulders. 'If we're on an economy drive to get more funding
for UNIT, it struck Benton and me that the less hardware there is lying around and
looking surplus to requirements, the better our chances of more dosh.'
'Hmmm. As a taxpayer, I'm not sure I approve.' Liz tapped his hand playfully. 'But as a
poor overworked and underpaid lab rat, I appreciate it enormously.'
Smiling, Mike wandered off in the general direction of the Armoury. Liz watched him go
for a moment and then continued on her own tour of the building, making her way to the
Brigadier's office. She wanted a quick natter with him about the correct protocol in
dealing with Sir John Sudbury - she'd never met the man, and a few pointers on what she
should or shouldn't say to him could be useful.
After all, it was always best to keep on the right side of C19.
March 27th
I am so bored. This place is about the dumpiest dump Dad could find. I've been here two
days now, and they've been two of the crappiest days I've known.

It's been a while since I wrote anything in this diary and I really ought to as my early
memoirs are going to be a best-seller when I'm a famous politician and world statesman.
At least, that's what Dad always says. I'd rather be a singer or an actor or something
exciting, but he says there's no money in it. Isn't there more to life than money? Mum
always says that I shouldn't be asking things like that at my age, whatever that's supposed
to mean. Mrs Petter says we're never too young to think about money and the good and
evil it causes. Dad says she must be a 'bloody commie', but I think she's making sense. It's
all very well to be loaded like Dad and the others in Parliament, but there are lots of
people who aren't and Dad doesn't know