Episode Four
And here we are in Episode Four. We're at the stage where
there aren't many new characters or situations left to talk
about, so this one's going to be quite brief.
To start off with, woo hoo, Private Parkinson is a new UNIT
character. He'll probably die in that case. I don't know
anyone called Parkinson so he's not named after anyone that I
can remember.
Ooh, now here's this whole Kent/Sussex thing raising its
head again. Surely a person injured in Smallmarshes (in Kent)
wouldn't be taken to a hospital in Hastings (in Sussex)? More
likely a hospital in East Kent.
Later during the UNIT sequence where Masie Hawk gets into
civvies, we again get the hint that Smallmarshes is in Sussex.
It's not, it's in Kent. Either mine or the Virgin
copy-editor's geography was shot to hell. And whilst I'm often
the first to accept such things on the chin, a quick glance at
my initial drafts show, I did indeed get my geography right.
Grrr…
One of the main reasons I'm so fond of Scales of Injustice
is the human stories, especially Lethbridge-Stewart's. I
really wanted to put the Brig through the wringer and show how
whilst his orderly UNIT world is being shattered by the Doctor
leaking things and his budget being cut by Geneva, his home
life is falling apart in parallel. Poor bugger.
I like the idea he knows about Liz Shaw and Jeff Johnson
but never mentions it until he has to. The reference to
Gilmore of course refers to Remembrance of the Daleks, and Ben
Aaronovitich's novelisation of the same that, if I recall,
suggests his experiences led directly to the formation of
unit.
When I worked at Marvel as editor of Doctor Who Magazine,
it was often a seven days a week job, with a lot of (unpaid)
late nights. I was lucky enough not to have a Fiona at home -
but could well have had. The conversation Alistair and Fiona
have over the phone was merely me imagining things that could
easily have been levelled at me by my better half during my
time there.
I loved the idea that he wonders if Kate was just a
subconscious way of keeping his marriage alive and that he
couldn't even bring himself to say anything more than a formal
"sorry" to Doris Wilson on hearing of her husband's death. The
Brigadier is a fascinating character who despite all this
finds himself 'ready for action'. It was quite deliberate that
it's Alistair throughout this entire scene until that final
line where he becomes the Brig.
It's odd that this book seems to be about disintegrating
relationships. The Liz scene suggests that she and the Doctor
are world apart in outlook, and we already know she's having
problems with Jeff. I'd recently gone through a breakdown of a
relationship and must have transferred a lot of my feelings
into this book. I doubt that I thought that then, but can see
it clearly now.
Liz's friend Jan-Dick Heijs is based on a real Dutchman I
knew. I think in the earliest sketchings I did for this story,
Jana's character was a bloke and I called him Jan-Dick. When
Jana turned into a woman, I used his name here.
When I wrote the final draft of this book, the tramp/man
feeding them info - the UK equivalent of Woodward and
Bernstein's Deep Throat - was written as 'Mister ?' but Virgin
wouldn't do that and so the copyeditor went through and
changed it to 'a friend'. I never understood why and I don't
like it.
As Chuuk shows the Doctor around the base, we hear of the
legendary two-faced, cowardly Masz K'll. That really was me
working out my demons by naming an evil character after the
man who'd pushed me out of Marvel. Hence Pannini and Tunbridge
Wells (where they were based) get not very subtle digs as
well. I like Chukk, the rejected genetic inferior reptile man
(apparently) trying to prove he and his people are equal to
the pure Silurians and Sea Devils.
Bless the Marshall family - yet another couple in this
adventure who blame each other for their own failings. Clearly
I'm relentlessly depressing in my apparent belief that
relationships and marriage are doomed to failure. God, I must
have been tedious to be around during 1996. I apologise to
everyone who knew me then. Alan Marshall is MP for Irlam o'the
Heights, the silliest place name I knew (courtesy of Steve
Lyons who lives there).