DOCTOR WHO - FURY FROM THE DEEP

by Victor Pemberton

  The Doctor frowned before replying. 'I think so, Mr Harris. It's difficult to say. There's no immediate panic as far as I can see, but you'd better get her under medical supervision.'

  'Yes,' said Harris. He got up from the bed, kissed Maggie gently on the forehead, looked at her anxiously, then joined the Doctor. 'I'll go back to the Medicare Centre at the Compound and arrange for her to be taken in there.'

  The Doctor smiled reassuringly. 'Good idea.'

  Harris went to the door, stopped to take one last worried look at his wife, then left.

  'Poor man,' said Victoria, shaking her head with a sigh. 'Aye,' Jamie agreed, 'Hey! I thought we were supposed to be prisoners?'

  The Doctor's eyes suddenly glistened with hope. 'So did I, Jamie!' he chuckled. 'We'd better make the most of it. We've got work to do back at the TARDIS.'

  'What about Mrs Harris?' said Victoria.

  The Doctor hurried across to the bed to take one quick last look at Maggie. 'She seems to be sleeping peacefully. Come on, let's get out of here!' He thrust the plastic bag into Jamie's hands, and rushed out. Jamie looked disgustedly at the seaweed specimen inside the polythene bag, pulled a face at it, then followed the Doctor. Last to leave was Victoria, who went to cover Maggie properly with the duvet. After a last anxious look, Victoria hurried off to join the others, quietly closing the door behind her.

  Outside, the early afternoon light was becoming thinner. The thaw was still continuing, but there were signs of an approaching breeze, which caused the bedroom curtains at the smashed window to flutter restlessly.

  Maggie was breathing quite normally, her eyes firmly closed. She seemed at peace. Suddenly, a movement: her hand slipped from beneath the duvet cover, and dangled to and fro aimlessly.

  A frond-like weed formation was beginning to grow down Maggie's exposed hand and arm.

  There was shock and fear on the group of faces peering down into the darkness of the impeller shaft. The giant pump itself was still immobile, but the thumping heartbeat sound continued to echo throughout the aluminium pipeline tube.

  'In God's name, what is that sound?' The Chief Engineer was gripping the safety rail around the surface of the shaft, his voice reduced to a faltering whisper.

  Van Lutyens, like the rest of the engineers, was almost mesmerised by the throbbing, pulsating sound coming up from the base of the shaft. It's uncanny,' he murmured. 'Like a... a heartbeat... '

  Robson was clearly affected by the sound. Both his hands were gripping the safety rail, and his eyes were transfixed down into the darkness of the Shaft, as though he alone knew exactly what was going on down there.

  And then, the unexpected happened. The thumping sound came to a sudden, dramatic halt.

  The silence was deafening.

  The Chief Engineer was first to speak. 'It's stopped again. The rest of the crew were looking nervously around, down to the shaft, up to the pipeline tube.

  Van Lutyens turned immediately to Robson. 'This surely must be proof.'

  Robson had not relaxed his grip on the safety rail. He was still staring down into the shaft. 'Proof?' he murmured, as if in a trance. Suddenly, he swung around to look the Dutch-man straight in the eyes. He hesitated, then burst into scornful laughter.

  Van Lutyens watched Robson as though he was mad. He had to raise his voice to be heard. 'Proof that there is something down there blocking the impeller.'

  'Rubbish!' snarled Robson, waving his hand dismissively. 'Hysterical nonsense!'

  'But you heard it. That terrible sound...'

  Robson was unyielding. 'I heard a mechanical fault in the base of the impeller!'

  Van Lutyens pointed in frustration towards the shaft. 'But the impeller isn't working! Don't you ever believe anything until you can see it?'

  Robson had had enough. He pushed past the Dutchman, and made for the door, yelling to the engineers as he went, 'I want this impeller operational in half an hour!' He stopped at the door and turned. 'Now get to it!'

  Through the transparent door, van Lutyens could see Robson disappearing back amongst the maze of electronic hardware in the Control Hall. The Dutchman was now more convinced than ever that the Refinery was being run by a lunatic.

  Back inside the TARDIS, the Doctor dropped his seaweed specimen into a small glass tank. Attached to the side of the tank were two miniature metal cylinders containing two transparent tubes inserted through holes on either side of the tank.

  Jamie peered at the specimen inside the tank and scratched his head in puzzlement. 'What are you doing, Doctor?'

  Before replying, the Doctor covered the tank with its seal-tight lid. 'These cylinders contain a small quantity of natural gas, Jamie. It might be interesting to see what effect it has on the weed specimen - if any.' He turned on the cylinder release taps, and immediately the sound of hissing gas could be heard coming from inside the tank.

  This corner of the TARDIS was beginning to look like a medical laboratory, for the Doctor had produced all sorts of bottles of chemical liquids and powders. There were also several large, dusty reference books piled up on the control console.

  Victoria was at a workbench nearby, heating some liquid in a test tube over a Bunsen flame. The bench was stacked with bottles and odd-shaped glass containers. 'How are you getting on, Victoria?' The Doctor came across to join her.

  'I don't know,' replied Victoria, looking puzzled into the test tube. 'You'd better take a look.'

  The Doctor took the tube from Victoria and held it up to the light. 'Nothing unusual. The seaweed contains the normal iron content.'

  Victoria was still uneasy. 'Yes. But I did this other test, like you told me, and I found something which worries me.' She reached across to a bulb-shaped glass container, inside which was a small particle of the seaweed specimen floating in a colourless liquid. The sides of the container were tarnished with something which resembled rust, only just visible through a cloud vapour.

  The Doctor looked into the container with great interest. 'I'm not surprised, Victoria,' he said, pointing to the brown stain around the bulb. 'Do you see the deposit? This means the weed contains some kind of gas - probably toxic.'

  'Toxic?' Victoria exchanged a worried glance with the Doctor.

  'Hey, Doctor!' Jamie was at the Doctor's table, peering into the microscope. 'What are these funny little bits moving about in the weed?'

  The Doctor was still preoccupied with the contents of the glass bulb. 'Just a minute, Jamie. Don't worry me.' But he suddenly turned with a start. 'What did you say?' He quickly put clown the glass bulb, and rushed across to take over the microscope from Jamie.

  'Can you see them?' said Jamie, peering over the Doctor's shoulder.

  'Jamie! This is it!' The Doctor thumped the table jubilantly. 'There's molecular movement!'

  'There's what?'

  In great excitement, the Doctor pushed Jamie out of the way, rushed across to the control console, and pushed a button. The lights immediately faded into near darkness, and a flap on the wall revealed a large projector screen. Rubbing his hands with glee, the Doctor pressed another button. The microscope slide automatically appeared in magnified form on the screen. It showed a substance full of dots and squiggles, but with definite signs of molecular movement. The Doctor stared at the screen in wonder and bewilderment. 'Incredible! Absolutely incredible!'

  'What is it, Doctor?' said Jamie, turning his head from side to side, trying to make some sense of the screen image. 'What does it mean?'

  Victoria was also staring in amazement at the screen from her bench on the other side of the room. 'It means, Jamie, that the weed specimen is as much alive as you and me.'

  Jamie swung a look of total disbelief at Victoria. Then he turned to the Doctor, who was nodding his head reluctantly.

  None of them were yet aware of what was going on in the glass tank at the side of Victoria. The heartbeat sound was muffled within the sealed container.

  The seaweed specimen was beginning to pulsate...

  'Mr
Harris, it's imperative we do something about Robson without delay. He just won't listen to reason.' Van Lutyens was in the Control Hall corridor, where he had been waiting to intercept Harrison his way back from the Compound.

  'I'm sorry, van Lutyens,' replied Harris, whose nerves were now raw with anxiety, 'I've got something more important on my mind at the moment.' He tried to move on, but the Dutchman blocked his way.

  'More important!' protested van Lutyens. 'What is more important than...'

  'My wife is ill! Get out of the way!' Harris practically pushed the Dutchman aside, and rushed off into the Control Hall. Van Lutyens stared after him, bewildered, then followed.

  'Price!'

  'Sir!'

  Harris was calling from the Compound exit door in the Control Hall. 'Doc Patterson still not back?'

  'No, sir. We've heard nothing at all from Rig D.'

  'Right. Get on to Matron at the Medicare Unit. Tell her to send a couple of orderlies over to my quarters with a stretcher to bring my wife in. She's been taken ill.'

  'Right away, sir!' Price was already punching out computer keys to make contact with the Medicare Unit.

  'Harris!' It was the unmistakeable voice of Robson, booming out from the office area. 'What's the panic now?'

  Harris hurried across to him. 'It's my wife. She's been taken ill. She needs medical attention.'

  Robson sighed irritably. 'What's the matter with her this time? Another headache?'

  It took all of Harris's self-control to resist rising to Robson's jibes. 'She's very ill, Mr Robson,' he replied calmly.

  'Oh yes?' persisted Robson with a sneer. 'And who says so? I suppose it was that Doctor bloke you... Wait a minute, where is he?' He flicked a quick glance around the Control Hall. 'And those two kids?'

  Only at that moment did Harris realise what he'd done. His answer came out as a defensive stammer. 'I... I left them in my quarters when I... '

  Robson's eyes were blazing with anger. 'You what?' He moved quickly towards Harris, almost as though he was going to hit him. 'They're supposed to be under guard, and you left them... in your own married quarters?'

  'I was worried about my wife. I didn't have time to think about...'

  'Those three prisoners were in your charge!'

  'I don't care!' snapped Harris. 'Don't you understand? My wife was lying there on the floor when I got there. She was unconscious, and the place was stifled by the smell of toxic gas.' He brushed the lock of hair from his eye, then with every muscle in his face taut with tension, said, 'She's been poisoned, Robson! My wife's been poisoned!'

  Van Lutyens was listening to Harris's outburst with rivetted interest. 'Mr Harris, you said your quarters were filled with toxic gas fumes?'

  'Yes.'

  'Where did they come from?'

  'I have no idea.'

  'No,' snapped Robson. 'And we shall none of us know now you've let those three go loose.' He turned his back on Harris and strode off. Harris followed him and said, 'How could they possibly have had anything to do with it?'

  'It still doesn't alter the fact that you disobeyed my orders!' Robson stopped dead, and swung round on Harris again. 'You released those three prisoners without my authority.'

  Harris was at the point of despair. 'Prisoners? A harmless old man and a couple of teenagers?'

  Robson took a deep breath, and crossed his arms obstinately. 'That harmless old man, you're so fond of, is probably a saboteur! How d'you know he's not the one who's been tampering with that valve on the shoreline? Can't you get it into that thick head of yours that this Doctor bloke is responsible for producing those variations in pressure that you were getting so excited about!'

  'Don't be so ridiculous, Robson!' Harris was now yelling at the Controller. 'You're clutching at straws, stupidly blind to the real facts!'

  'Don't you shout at me, boy!' Robson yelled back.

  A full-scale row was only averted by the Chief Engineer, who was calling from the open window of the impeller area. 'Mr Robson! The impeller!'

  As he spoke, a slow grinding sound was heard. Everyone turned automatically to look towards the giant impeller.

  'It's moving again!' called the Chief, triumphantly.

  Robson threw a smug, cynical grin at Harris, then rushed into the impeller area. The others followed him.

  Once again the impeller area was buzzing with activity. The Chief Engineer was labouring at the controls of the giant impeller, which was thumping up and down again, but with some difficulty. 'It just started up again, quite suddenly,' said the Chief, whose face was moist with sweat.

  'All right, man, keep it moving!' snapped Robson, tensely watching the impeller's struggle to burst into action. But its movement was erratic, and there were already signs that it could not possibly sustain its recovery. Robson yelled again. 'Don't let it go now!'

  Quite suddenly, the giant impeller once again came to a dramatic halt.

  Robson was beside himself with rage. He stared in total disbelief at the impeller, refusing to accept that it would not budge. 'You fools!' he yelled to everyone in sight. 'You stupid fools!'

  Everyone was amazed by Robson's wild outburst. He was glaring from one to the other of them as though they had all contrived to sabotage the impeller.

  The Chief Engineer came to his men's defence. 'There was nothing we could do. It's jammed at the base.'

  Robson could not be placated. He immediately turned on van Lutyens and Harris. 'You wanted this, didn't you?' He was ranting like a madman. 'It's just what you wanted!'

  Van Lutyens retorted, 'You should have listened to me, Robson. You should have...'

  'I should have what? Turned off the flow? Spoiled a reputation of thirty years!'

  'Reputation!' Van Lutyens could hardly believe the illogic of Robson's mind. 'Don't you realise that what's going on here is something totally outside your comprehension? That whatever it is that's in the pipeline, that's blocking the pump, that's taken over your rigs, is a threat, a menace to us all?'

  Robson blinked his eyes at the Dutchman, but it was more of a twitch. 'Menace? Threat?' He burst into cynical laughter, even though it was quite obvious he was disturbed by what had happened, and was refusing to admit it. 'The only menace round here is you, van Lutyens. You and your friend Mr Harris there.'

  The Dutchman and Harris exchanged a look of deep concern as Robson then rounded on the engineers. 'Well? What are you lot staring at?' he growled. 'I want this impeller in working order. Now get to it!' Finally, he turned back to Harris. 'I want to know immediately this impeller is in working order again. Understood - Mr Harris?' He hesitated for a moment, clutching his forehead as though he had a headache. Everyone was watching him, convinced that the Controller was beginning to break up under the strain of circumstances which he neither accepted or understood. With a final defiant glare at Harris and van Lutyens, Robson rushed back to the Control Hall.

  Harris and van Lutyens exchanged a look of deep consternation. 'He's cracking up,' said the Dutchman. 'I think you'll have to take over soon.'

  Harris shook his head. 'No, I've got to get back to my wife.' He turned to go, but van Lutyens caught him by the arm. 'Harris, you can't leave now,' the Dutchman pleaded. 'Can't you see Robson is losing control?'

  Harris rubbed his eyes, which were sore with tension. 'My wife needs help... '

  'Your wife will be brought back here to the Medicare Unit. She'll be kept under close supervision.'

  'Damnit, van Lutyens!' snapped Harris. 'I have a duty towards my wife...'

  'You also have a duty towards this refinery.' There was a note of desperation in the Dutchman's voice. 'Listen, Harris. If Robson does crack up, as I think he's going to, then you are the only one with the authority to take over. We need you here.'

  Harris was totally confused. He hesitated for a moment, then turned to the Chief Engineer, who had abandoned his struggle to re-activate the impeller pump. 'What do you think, Chief? You know Mr Robson better than any of us. How... I mean, d'you think he
's fully aware of the situation?'

  The Chief lowered his eyes uneasily. He had always tried his best to show loyalty towards the Controller, often under extreme provocation. 'Well, sir... Mr Robson's under a great deal of strain...'

  'Exactly!' emphasised the Dutchman, thumping a fist into the palm of his other hand. 'Anyone can see that he's cracking up.'

  'With respect, sir, you're not making it any easier for him.' There was more than a hint of criticism in the Chief's reply.

  Van Lutyens resented this. 'That's not what I'm here for. I come to give professional advice - Mr Robson ignores it! He knows rigs, yes. He knows much about engineering, but not all. And it is obvious he knows nothing about the state of mind of those men out there on the rigs!'

  The Chief replied without looking up. 'Mr Robson was out there a long time, sir.'

  Van Lutyens sighed with frustration. He felt he was getting nowhere with either Harris or the Chief Engineer. 'Yes, it is true. Robson has great experience - of normal conditions. But these are not normal conditions. Something very strange is happening, but Robson refuses to accept the new factor, the unexplained factor.'

  'So what do you think he should do?' asked Harris.

  'I know exactly what I would do.' Van Lutyens hesitated briefly, then spoke directly. 'I would close the Compound and evacuate the rigs!'

  The Chief exchanged a quick anxious glance with Harris. 'He'd never do it!'

  'Can't you see, Chief?' argued the Dutchman. 'It's the only safe, logical thing to do until all this business is sorted out.' The Chief looked unconvinced. Van Lutyens continued: 'Look, we've lost contact with two of those rigs out at sea. We've got a major blockage in the main pipeline, a jammed impeller... we don't know what is causing all this trouble!'

  Harris interrupted. 'But we regained contact with Baxter on Rig D. He said everything was under control.'

  Exasperated, the Dutchman replied, 'And we haven't heard from him since! And what about Rig C? We've lost contact with them also.'

  The Chief was beginning to run out of answers. 'It's probably a telecommunications fault somewhere,' he spluttered.