Doctor Who and the Scales of Injustice | Page 9

now and again, it was worth it. Deep down, Liz knew, the Brigadier

agreed. But such was his character that he'd never let anyone know that - least of all
Scobie.
Army men, Liz had decided long ago, were just overgrown schoolboys who had
exchanged their catapults and stink bombs for mortars and guided missiles.
As she popped a cheese vol-au-vent into her mouth, she spared a glance at a newcomer,
who was escorted in by Private Boyle. This was obviously Sir John Sudbury, a rather
chubby man who had 'Minister for reducing cashflow' written all over him. Almost bald,
except for tufts of hair around his ears, he had the ruddy complexion of a man whose
liver wasn't likely to last another five years. His dull, red-rimmed eyes suggested long
exposure to too much cigar smoke, probably wafting around whatever ridiculous
gentlemen's club he and his friends frequented near St James's Street, SWI.
This rather grim impression was offset by a beaming smile that creased his heavily
jowled face into something Liz could only picture as the face of a sea-lion on LSD. He
almost hopped across the Brigadier's office, arm outstretched, and gripped Scobie's hand.
He began to pump it furiously.
'Scobie old man, how the ruddy devil are you, eh? And Lethbridge-Stewart,' he continued
without a pause, leaving Scobie silently mouthing a riposte. 'Good to see you again, old
chap.' He swivelled around, waving to Boyle as he left, shutting the door. 'Splendid
young man that, Brigadier. Polite, pleasant, chatty. Good to see your troops are up to their
usual standards.' He swiped a vol au-vent off the desk and swallowed it whole, pausing
only to take a proffered glass of mineral water from Carol Bell as she offered it to him.
'Thank you, Corporal,' he mumbled, nodding at her as she smiled back. 'Splendid set up,
Brigadier, quite splendid.' His eyes rested on Liz. 'Ah, and who is this young charmer, eh?
Didn't tell me you had even more young ladies around the place. Corporal Bell not
enough for you, what?'
Liz knew she would normally be steaming at such sexism, but Sir John's manner was so
buffoonish and inoffensive that she knew getting annoyed would be pointless. The old
man hadn't a clue how sexist he was being. From the corner of her eye, however, she
could see the Brigadier beginning to panic. Good, Liz decided. At least she'd got him
trained.
'Sir John Sudbury, I presume?' Liz shook his hand firmly. 'My name is Elizabeth Shaw.
I'm one of UNIT's scientific corps.'
'Of course you are, m'dear. Doctor Shaw isn't it, from Cambridge? Doctorates in
chemistry and medicine, honorary doctorate in metaphysics and humanities. Plus assorted
qualifications in economics, history and Latin. Have I missed anything?'
'Apart from my sixteen-plus in metalwork, probably not. I'm flattered.' Liz found herself
blushing. She coughed, trying to hide her embarrassment. 'That, and my research work
into the paranormal.'
Sir John looked surprised. 'Really? I must have missed that. Been studying your file

recently, have to confess. I've had to get genned up on all this space defence stuff ever
since Jim Quinlan's death meant I had to take on his workload as well. Sorry, but it takes
time.'
Liz nodded. 'Of course. Well, that last interest has only started since I began working
here. I found I needed to... broaden my horizons somewhat.'
Sir John Sudbury scooped up another vol-au-vent and flopped into a convenient swivel
chair. It creaked dangerously under his weight as he swivelled to face her. 'The Doctor's
influence, no doubt. Marvellous chap.'
The Brigadier looked astonished. He shot a puzzled look at Liz but she had to shrug back
- she had no idea that the Doctor had met Sir John.
'At the Pemburton club, Brigadier. Lord Rowlands' Gang of Four, you know. Excellent
bridge player, your Doctor. We partner-up a lot.'
The Brigadier nodded dumbly while Liz tried to picture the Doctor, the great
anti-establishment provocateur, sitting in a gentlemen's club in London, playing cards.
The image was too horrible to cope with, so she just smiled at Sir John. 'Does he cheat?'
Sir John stared back in mock horror. 'Cheat? Young lady, are you suggesting that an
honorary member of the Pemburton, and a guest of Lord Rowlands to boot, would cheat?
Heaven forbid, he'd be expelled on the spot if anything like that occurred.' He finished off
his mineral water with a grimace. 'Foul new stuff. Bloody French rubbish.' He looked
back at Liz. 'D'you like it, Doctor Shaw?'
'Call me Liz, please.'
'Thank you, Liz. Can you drink this imported donkey's -?'
The Brigadier harrumphed loudly. 'Gentlemen, to business?'
'Of course, Stewart,' concurred Scobie, pulling his tie a bit tighter. 'We should be
discussing UNIT's funding. That is, after all, why