Doctor How and the Deadly Anemones by Mark Speed

My understanding is that, in the absence of any prisoners of war from technologically superior enemies, you want to take them from… aliens . Is that right?”
    “Ultimately, yes. We could steal a march on the Russians, Chinese, Japanese and Americans if we got alien technology.”
    “Quite. So, tell me, in the last – let’s give you a chance here – decade , what technological secrets have you managed to acquire for Her Majesty’s Government?”
    “Well…”
    “Yes?”
    “My department got an insight into the Google algorithm.”
    “Go on.”
    “Which allowed us to rank our websites higher in the search results.”
    “A country can’t make a living by selling generic Viagra, Mr Thickett. Anything else?”
    “Yes… Yes. As a matter of fact, there is!” He glanced at his colleague. “We retrieved a specimen yesterday. The jawbone –”
    “Mandible,” corrected Peterson.
    “The mandible of one of the giant beetles that attacked us. It’s lightweight and has a razor-sharp edge that can cut through steel. Doctor Peterson has sent it to Imperial College for testing. Haven’t you?”
    “We got a note back an hour ago saying that it was some kind of unstable hydrocarbon material,” said Peterson. “It’s of no scientific interest.”
    “What?” gasped Thickett. “But I saw that thing cut through steel. You just swung it at a chair and it chopped it clean in half. That technology is worth billions , surely?”
    Peterson shook her head. “Unstable. Just gunk by the time it got to the lab, apparently.”
    Sir Adrian smiled, and picked up a document. “The reason I ask is that an initial estimate of yesterday’s damage is somewhat over ten million pounds. Then there’s the matter of injuries sustained by personnel. Physical, as well as psychological.”
    Thickett made a straining noise in his throat. “But the potential pay-off is so much greater. Imagine being able to travel in time , Sir Adrian.”
    “Yes, just imagine. I’d probably go back a couple of decades and advise my predecessor to disband your department, to save us your pay and pension liabilities.”
    “The technology the Time Keepers have is, I believe, superior even to anything any other alien species has developed.”
    “If they exist.”
    “Ask Miss Peterson!” blurted Thickett.
    “I did, at length,” said Sir Adrian. “She has a Ph.D. in Astrophysics. She assures me that time travel is impossible.”
    “What about the Doctor? The Time Lords. I mean, Time Keepers. You look at the records. Look at the records going back to the Second World War. They were here! They were working with us – out in the open!”
    “A few dusty old files,” said Sir Adrian. “A lot of stuff happens in wars. Myths build up. Who’d believe that Barnes Wallace would invent a bouncing bomb and that it would be such a success, for heaven’s sake? It sounds ludicrous in the cold light of day. Two hundred years from now, few will believe it and they’ll think any film footage is a hoax.”
    “Well, how in God’s name do you explain what happened yesterday?”
    “I was rather hoping you would, Mr Thickwit.”
    “ Thickett . But Miss – Doctor – Peterson said she gave you a report already.”
    “Yes, she did. You brought a London black cab into a high security bunker.”
    “It was a Spectrel ! A time-travel machine.”
    “Of course, there are a few other incidents we have trouble explaining. These giant insects. The underground explosion in Essex.”
    “Aliens!” exclaimed Thickett.
    Sir Adrian put his spectacles down on his desk and rubbed his eyes. “I’m so glad that Doctor Peterson was able to put out the convincing stories she did about fracking. All of us in the intelligence services know there’s a lot more going on than the public should ever be aware of. Her quick thinking with a topical subject was the perfect cover story for the whole episode.”
    “ Doctor Who !” said Thickett suddenly.
    “What?”
    “ Doctor Who !