Doctor Who and the Loch Ness Monster
Page 4
'Look after the Corporal. He seems to have...' The Brigadier's voice tailed away. The clerk was dozing peacefully, his head buried in a pile of report forms. The RT operator was sprawled across his set. Everyone in the room was asleep—and a thin mist was seeping under the door and spreading through the place. The Brigadier rushed to the door and flung it open. A thicker cloud of the same mist billowed into the room, and the Brigadier slumped to the floor.
The room was silent, except for the sound of heavy breathing and the occasional snore. After a moment the telephone began to ring, but there was no one to answer it.
In the sick-bay corridor, Warrant Officer Benton listened to the ringing at the other end of the line in utter amazement. It was impossible that there should be no answer. Whatever the crisis, they'd always leave someone to man the communications.
He slammed down the receiver as his men came along the corridor. 'No sign of the Doctor?'
'No, sir.'
Benton sighed in exasperation. 'Now we've got three missing! Not to mention the whole of H.Q.' Like the Brigadier before him, Benton began to feel the victim of a mass disappearing act. A search of the grounds had revealed no trace of Sarah or Harry. And on returning to the sick bay, they'd found that the Doctor and Sister Lamont had also vanished. Benton turned to the puzzled soldiers. 'Come on, we'd better search the building. You go that way, I'll take a look in here.'
Purely by chance, the door Benton chose was the one leading to the decompression chamber. He looked briefly round the anteroom, and was just about to leave when he saw the heavy metal door and the little window with its Venetian blind. Casually he walked across and peered in. What he saw made him give a yell that brought the UNIT soldiers running back. Sarah and the Doctor were sitting cross-legged against the far wall of the little chamber. Both were as still as death.
Benton spun the locking-wheel frantically, and heaved at the door. It wouldn't budge. The soldiers joined in to help, but the door resisted their combined strength.
Benton studied the control panel by the door, and swiftly adjusted controls. He watched the air-pressure climb steadily and said, 'All right—let's try again.' They heaved on the door and slowly it gave way. Benton climbed into the chamber and crossed to the Doctor. He sat completely still, stiff and corpse-like. Despairingly Benton wondered if rigor mortis had already set in. Then, suddenly one of the Doctor's eyes flicked open. It stared unwinkingly at Benton for a moment, then the other eye opened.
The Doctor's nose twitched, he sneezed, and then took in a great gulp of the air flooding into the chamber. A delighted grin spread over his face. 'It worked.'
Benton gave a sigh of relief. 'What worked?'
'Oh, just an old trick I learned from a Tibetan Monk,' said the Doctor airily. He saw a soldier trying to revive Sarah and called hastily, 'Don't touch her. It's fatal to break the trance incorrectly!' The Doctor moved over to Sarah, cupped her face in his hands, and gently stroked her forehead with his thumbs. He applied pressure to carefully selected points in her neck, gave her a hearty slap on the back, and Sarah came to life as if she'd been switched on. For the second time that day, she recovered consciousness to see the Doctor gazing down at her.
'Doctor—what happened?'
'I had to put us both into a kind of suspended animation, so we'd survive long enough to be rescued,' the Doctor explained cheerfully. 'Congratulations, Sarah. You're a remarkably good subject.'
Sarah climbed shakily to her feet. 'I'm so glad. Do you think we could get out of this place now?'
'What an excellent idea! ' agreed the Doctor cheerfully. 'You know, I really think we'd better pop along to see the Brigadier—he must be wondering what's happened to us.'
'I'm wondering what's happening to him,' said Benton. He explained about the abortive telephone call.
The Doctor looked worried. 'We'd better get back straight away.'
Sarah said suddenly, 'What about poor Harry? We've got to find him.'
The Doctor's voice was reassuring. 'I think he's a prisoner of the aliens. When we find their base, we'll rescue him!'
An astonished Huckle stood looking about him in the middle of UNIT H.Q. One of his divers, examining the sunken remains of a wrecked rig, had come up with a very interesting discovery, and Huckle had decided to inform UNIT straight away. The last thing he'd expected was to find them literally asleep on the job. Yet all around the Brigadier and his H.Q. staff were sleeping soundly, impervious to all attempts to wake them.
A strange, eerie feeling began to creep over Huckle. He remembered his drive through the village—he hadn't seen a living soul. He looked about uneasily, wondering what to do next. Suddenly, from out on the moor, came a terrifying sound. Like the bellowing of some enormous beast...
One of the Brigadier's patrolling soldiers heard the sound at the same time. He was actually out on the' moor, and the noise was very much closer. It made the already-terrified soldier cock his rifle, and peer nervously into the impenetrable mist that surrounded him.
He'd been on the moor for several hours now, on the outer limits of the cordon set up by the Brigadier to keep watch for the monster. By rights he should have been relieved some time ago. But his relief hadn't arrived, the sergeant hadn't been round to check up, and his increasingly frantic RT calls to UNIT H.Q. had received no reply. The sudden shattering roar from out of the mist was too much for him. His nerve broke and he turned to run.
Something huge and powerful was crossing Tulloch Moor, moving, for all its vast bulk, at incredible speed. The fleeing soldier ran right across its path. He caught a fleeting glimpse of the monstrous head on its long neck, and then a massive paw crushed him into the ground. The creature bellowed once more as it disappeared into the mist.
The Doctor, Sarah, and Benton heard the roar just. as they arrived at the inn. They dashed into the parlour only to find it full of sleeping soldiers, with a terrified Huckle trying to shake them awake. Benton decided to take a look outside, while the Doctor made a quick examination of the Brigadier and his men. Sarah went off to look round the inn itself. She came back into the parlour as the Doctor finished his examination.
Huckle hovered nervously beside him. 'Well, what's the verdict?'
'Nerve gas,' explained the Doctor. 'Something affecting the higher consciousness to produce all the effects of natural sleep. Concentrated, localised, and extremely powerful.'
'Are they going to be all right?'
'Right as rain,' said the Doctor cheerfully. 'Look, they're starting to come out of it now.' And indeed, all round the room, men were stirring and muttering.
Sarah said, 'Everyone in the place is asleep, Doctor. All the staff, guests everyone.'
'I can beat that,' said Benton, following her in. 'Everyone in the village seems to be asleep. My patrols too. as far as I can tell. No one's answering the RT.'
The Doctor seemed unsurprised.
'Why?' demanded Sarah. 'Why should anyone want to knock out an entire village full of people?'
Benton agreed. 'That's right, Doc—why? Doesn't make any sense.'
'It makes sense, all right,' said the Doctor. 'Someone, or rather something, wanted to pass this way unseen.'
'The something that gave the roar we heard?' asked Huckle.
The Doctor nodded. 'Very probably.'
Benton made for the door. 'I'm going to check on my patrols. Tell the Brig, will you—when he comes to.,
The Doctor nodded, and turned to HuckIe. 'Now then, Mr Huckle,' he said brightly. 'What can we do for you?' He sounded for all the world like an old-fashioned shopkeeper welcoming a customer, thought Sarah.
Huckle stared blankly at the Doctor, who said gently, 'Did you have some special reason for coming here?'
'Yes—yes of course. My divers were checking what's left of the rigs and one of them found this. It was stuck to the concrete foundations, well below the water line.'
Huckle produced a strange-looking object. It might have been a large, old-fashioned deaf-aid that had been in
the sea long enough to get encrusted with weed and barnacles, thought Sarah. Or it could have been an oddly shaped piece of rock that just happened to look like something manufactured. In fact, though Sarah didn't know it, the thing had the half-made, half-grown look of all Zygon technology.
The Doctor took the device from Huckle almost reverently. Stepping carefully over the sleeping form of the Brigadier, he took it to the table and began to examine it. 'You know, Mr Huckle,' he remarked happily, 'I think we're getting somewhere at last!'
The Doctor's good spirits were not shared by Broton, Warlord of the Zygons. He stood in his control-room hissing with rage at the news brought by one of his subordinates. 'You assured me the Doctor and the female were dead. Now I hear they have arrived safely at the village. Explain ! '
The Zygon who had worn the shape of Sister Lamont cringed under Broton's wrath. 'I don't understand, Commander. They were dying when I left them.'
With a hiss of disgust, Broton turned to the console and touched a control nodule. Once again the scene in the parlour of the inn sprang into view on the monitor screen.
The Doctor was holding up the device Huckle had brought him. 'You realise what this is, Mr Huckle? A calling device!'
'For this monster you reckon's chewing up my rigs?'
'Correct! You've made an invaluable find.'
Angrily Broton hissed at the screen, 'You are too clever, Doctor—and too dangerous. This time I will make certain that you die.' He switched off the monitor and strode angrily from the control-room.
Somewhere in the depths of the Zygon ship, Harry Sullivan stood motionless in a kind of alcove, shaped rather like an upright coffin. Wiry tentacles, seemingly part of the ship itself, wound round him so he couldn't move. He was in no particular discomfort, and during the long wait sheer boredom had driven away his fear. He looked up almost eagerly when Broton and another Zygon strode up to him. 'All right, Broton, you said you wanted my body. Now, what are you going to do with it?'
Again Broton wondered why this primitive being failed to show the proper terrified reaction. Perhaps another demonstration of the all-powerful might of Zygon technology would make him realise his insignificance. 'It is not precisely your body that we need, human. It is your body-print. That has now been taken, by the Zygon device which imprisons you—a brilliant piece of technology far beyond your under-standing.'
Broton touched a nearby control nodule, and a section of wall slid back to reveal a row of alcoves, similar to the one holding Harry. In each alcove stood a human body, frozen and motionless, the head partly covered by a transparent dome. Harry saw the Duke of Forgill, Sister Lamont, and several others he didn't recognise, including a huge powerful man in game-keeper's dress. Harry gazed in horror: 'These people—are they all dead?'
'No... they live... after a fashion.'
'Why have you done this to them? What's it all for?'
Broton stepped up to the alcove containing the big gamekeeper. 'Watch!' He placed his hand on a panel beside the alcove. The panel glowed and hummed with power. Unbelievingly Harry saw Broton blur and shimmer and change. Suddenly a replica of the gamekeeper stood looking at him.
Harry had a sudden vision of the face of Sister Lamont, changing into a Zygon as she stood over his bed in the sick bay.
Horribly, the gamekeeper spoke with Broton's voice, though Harry guessed that the voice could be copied too. 'We have the power to rearrange the molecular structure of our bodies, to turn into replicas of your unpleasant species whenever it is necessary.' 'The gamekeeper shimmered, and turned back into Broton.
Harry struggled to keep his voice calm. 'I still don't see what use I am to you.'
The Zygon with Broton came up to Harry's cubicle, and put his hand on the panel, 'Do you not, human? Then watch!'
Just as Broton had, the Zygon began to change. Harry watched. This time there was real fear in his eyes. 'No,' he cried. 'No! He watched in sheer horror as the Zygon took on its new form.
6 The Monster on the Moor
At UNIT H.Q., dazed soldiers were stumbling slowly to their feet. In the middle of the confusion, the Doctor sat quietly contemplating the calling device. There seemed no join, nowhere to get into it, and he was reluctant to use force for fear of damaging it.
Sarah looked curiously at the tiny object. 'What do you think it's for, Doctor?'
'Well, suppose one of these things was clamped to the base of each rig? A long range signal activates it, and gives some kind of summons—maybe a monster's mating call ! '
The Doctor tossed the device up in the air and caught it. 'I can learn a great deal from this—but we've got to handle it carefully.'
'I should,' said Huckle. 'If it whistles up that creature we heard bellowing...' He shivered. 'Is there anything I can do?'
'You've done enough, Mr Huckle. Thank you for a most valuable discovery.'
'I'll be on my way then. Watch yourself, eh Doctor? You too, Miss Smith.'
Huckle left. The Doctor turned to Corporal Palmer, who was rubbing his eyes and staring dazedly at the message slip still clutched in his hand. 'All right, old chap?' asked the Doctor kindly.
'Just about, thanks,' said Palmer.
The Brigadier, who had been last to collapse, was the last to wake up. He was somewhat taken aback to find himself stretched out on the floor. A little sheepishly, he got to his feet. 'Ah, there you are Doctor. Er—what was I doing down there?'
'Just having a little nap, Brigadier.'
The Brigadier glared at him sternly. 'Me? Asleep? On duty? There are times, Doctor, when you talk the most absolute rubbish ! '
The Doctor grinned at Sarah, and returned to studying the device.
Out on Tulloch Moor, Benton was looking grimly at the broken body of the dead soldier, wondering what colossal weight could have flattened a man like that. Benton had checked up on his network of patrols, and found most of them gradually coming to, with no real idea of what had happened. Those nearest the village had been affected most deeply. Some of that lot were still asleep. Eventually, all the men had been accounted for except one, the solitary sentry on the far edge of the patrol area. Benton had rounded up a few of the recovered men and started a search. It hadn't been easy to find the missing man. His body had been half-buried, stamped deep into the ground.
One of the soldiers said, 'Shall I order up a stretcher party, sir?'
'Not yet. Nobody's to touch him till the Doctor's had a look!' Benton reached for his RT set.
As soon as they got Benton's message, the Doctor and the Brigadier prepared to leave. The Doctor could see Sarah wasn't really keen on the trip, and after all her recent ordeals he didn't blame her. 'Why don't you stay here and guard the fort,' he suggested, locking. the device away in a drawer. 'No need for you to come out in the cold.'
Sarah agreed gratefully, and the Doctor and the Brigadier rushed out. She sat down a bit shakily, suddenly hit by reaction. Corporal Palmer gave her a sympathetic look. 'Suppose I see if I can rustle up some tea, miss?'
'That'd be marvellous. You'll find the whole place in chaos, I imagine. They'll all be waking up and wondering what hit them.'
'Don't worry, miss. Make it myself if I have to,' said Palmer, and went off to the kitchens.
(On his spy-screen, Broton smiled in satisfaction. 'Excellent! Now the human female is alone.')
The Doctor and his party drove swiftly to the co-ordinates Benton had given them, and found him waiting by the body of the dead soldier. The Doctor examined the body. The Brigadier looked on, his face bleak and angry. 'Why, Doctor?' he demanded angrily. 'Why did they have to murder one of my men?'
The Doctor straightened up. 'I know how you feel, Brigadier. It's small consolation, but I don't think it was exactly murder. More a kind of tragic accident. He got in the thing's way and it simply—ran over him.'
The Brigadier nodded to Benton, and a stretcher party began carrying the body away. Thankful for the distraction Benton said, 'There's something else, sir. I ordered a quick search of t
he area. They found some... traces.'
He led them a short distance across the moor, to a patch of boggy ground, where the tough grass of the moor was replaced by squelching mud. Benton pointed. Stretching across the soft ground was a line of enormous claw-tracks.
Sarah, meanwhile, alone in UNIT H.Q., was amazed and delighted to see Harry Sullivan walk through the door. She jumped up and ran to him, questions pouring out of her. 'Harry! How marvellous! Are you all right? What happened to you?'
Harry stepped aside and slipped past her, his voice cold and formal. 'Nothing happened. I escaped.' He looked round the room. 'Where is the trilanic activator?'
'The how-much?'
'The device Huckle gave to the Doctor. Where is it?'
'Over there. The Doctor locked it in the drawer.' Harry Sullivan walked over to the drawer, tried it, then simply ripped it open with one savage tug, splintering the wood round the lock.
'Harry, what on earth are you doing? Why do you want that thing?'
'The Doctor asked me to collect it for him.'
'Then why didn't he tell you where it was? Why didn't he give you the key?'
'It is not important,' answered the flat voice.
Suddenly Sarah noticed—there was no bandage round Harry's head—and no trace of any wound. She said firmly, 'Just you wait a minute, Harry...' and stood in the doorway, barring his exit. With a powerful shove, he thrust her to one side and strode out of the room.
This convinced Sarah that she wasn't dealing with the Harry Sullivan she knew. Her Harry was the soul of old-fashioned chivalry. He could never bring himself to raise his voice to a lady, let alone his hand. She ran out of the inn and started to chase the intruder down the street.
He was some way ahead by now, marching incredibly quickly with a stiff, robot-like stride. Sarah ran after him calling, 'Hey, you—come back!' At the sound of her voice, he quickened his pace. Sarah saw two UNIT soldiers coming down the street just ahead of them. She yelled, 'Stop him—he's stolen something of the Doctor's!'