by Gerry Davis
Catching the prevailing enthusiasm, Polly also smiled and clapped her hands, watching the dot grow larger on the screen. ‘Oh come on,’ she said, ‘come on. It’s moving so slowly.’
Nils refocused the telescope. The dot was moving steadily across the screen from the top left hand corner to the bottom right hand corner, growing larger as it did so.
Then, as they watched, it began to veer round and change direction. It seemed to hesitate for a moment and then move more rapidly up towards the top right hand corner. There was a surprised intake of breath from the assembled men.
‘What are they doing?’ said Benoit.
‘It looks as though they’ve changed direction,’ said Nils.
Hobson nodded. ‘They’ve changed into an escape orbit!’
Now the dot seemed to be moving even faster, and to Polly’s horror she saw that it was growing smaller. It was shooting off the top of the monitor screen.
‘Hurry, man!’ Hobson slammed the console top with his fist. ‘Follow it.’ Nils was desperately juggling with the telescope controls to keep up with the small fleeing dot. ‘It’s going too fast,’ he said. ‘I can’t stay with it.’
‘Keep trying,’ Hobson insisted.
‘I can’t hold it. It’s accelerating too fast.’ Despite the agile manipulation of the Dane, the telescope picture was weaving all over the night sky in an effort to keep up with the moving dot. A sudden flare filled the screen.
‘Look out, man!’ exclaimed Benoit. ‘You’re on the sun.’
Nils was desperate. ‘That’s where it’s heading.’
‘The acceleration!’ Benoit had risen from his seat, his face ashen. ‘It’s gigantic!’
Hobson’s hands were gripping the top of the desk. ‘Get R/T contact with the ship, quick!’
Nils shook his head frantically. ‘It’s no good, sir… the doppler effect… it’s going too fast.’
Benoit suddenly slumped back in his chair as the full implication of what he was watching struck him. ‘They’ve had it, I’m afraid.’
‘The sun?’ queried Hobson. Benoit seemed to crumple. He looked down. ‘Yes,’ he nodded.
During the previous exchange, Polly had been turning from one man to the other. ‘Will someone please, please, please tell me what it all means?’ she said.
Benoit brought his hands up, palms upwards in a resigned gesture. ‘The shuttle rocket has been deflected towards the sun. Nothing can save them now.’
‘Save them!’ said Polly frantically. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘From plunging into the sun!’
The girl still looked puzzled. ‘The sun’s millions of miles away,’ she said.
The other men turned away, sickened, not wanting to watch the telescope screen. Nils had now given up the attempt to follow the fast moving craft which was practically out of sight.
The Doctor gripped Polly’s arm. ‘You see, Polly,’ he said, ‘once they get into the sun’s gravity belt, they can’t change course. It may take a week, but they’ll end up there just the same – burnt up in the sun’s heat.’
Hobson sat with his head in his hands, stricken. ‘What on earth could have caused it?’
Benoit leant back and raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘The rocket was deflected off course.’
‘But why? And how?’
The Doctor’s eyes were flickering quickly round the room. He was speaking half to himself, as usual. ‘Deflected, yes, of course.’ He took out his notebook. ‘The Gravitron.’
Hobson looked up at the Doctor. ‘Have the Cybermen a gravity weapon, do you think?’
The Doctor flicked open his diary, but he knew the answer. It was purely a routine gesture. ‘No,’ he said, ‘they haven’t – but we have!’
There was a hush in the room and everybody turned to him. ‘You’re not suggesting?’ said Hobson.
‘There is only one way that space ship could have been deflected to the sun, and that is from this very room.’ The Doctor’s slightly hushed tone carried to every corner of the room, and the listening crew caught their breath.
‘I see what you mean,’ said Benoit slowly. He turned to look at the Gravitron room.
Hobson rose from his seat. ‘Of course, the Gravitron. Young Trueman. He must have…’
‘I told you it was unwise to…’ Benoit began.
They turned round to look at the Gravitron room. The Doctor stepped in front of them. ‘If it is Trueman!’ He turned and led the way towards the Gravitron room door. The man at the controls rose, as if in response to some order, turned and walked towards the door. The men inside the Weather Control Room fell back in amazement.
‘It’s Evans!’ said Hobson.
Evans, staring ahead, reached the door, bent down and slid home the bolt. He then turned, walked back to his seat and sat down stiffly, his hands reaching out for the Gravitron controls.
Benoit was trying to understand. ‘He was down in the Medical Room, wasn’t he?’
‘The Cybermen must have got them under control again,’ said the Doctor.
‘And the other men down there?’ It was Jamie who spoke. He had carried Ben’s coat up to the look-out platform and was now standing beside the Doctor.
‘The other men may not be affected yet! But we can’t count on that for long.’ He turned to the Scot. ‘Jamie, get down to the Medical Unit. Barricade the door with anything you can find. Keep them in at all cost.’
‘I’ll go with you,’ said Polly breathlessly.
Polly and Jamie hurried out of the room.
In the Medical Unit, the two remaining headclips had started their soft insistent signal tone. The man, Ralph, lying on the other side of the control units, reached out a hand, took one of the clips and placed it on his head. He then stood up and, responding to the signals from the Cyberman, lifted the other clip, walked round the bed, and placed it upon the head of the third man, Geoffrey.
Outside in the corridor, Polly and Jamie cautiously turned the corner as if expecting to see the men already striding, with that curious rigid walk, along the corridor. There was no sign of anyone.
‘It’s all right,’ said Jamie. ‘We haven’t passed any of them.’
‘Perhaps Evans is the only one they’ve reactivated,’ said Polly.
‘We’d better keep watch out here,’ said Jamie.
Polly nodded and shivered. ‘You’re so right. I don’t fancy going into that room again. For all we know, one of the Cybermen might still be in the base.’
Jamie looked at her. ‘Aye, it’s a thought. Maybe if we stuck that bench against the door.’ He looked. This part of the corridor was wider and against one wall there was a long bench where Dr Evans’ patients had sat while waiting for treatment.
Polly looked at it doubtfully. ‘It wouldn’t stop them for very long?’
‘Och,’ the Scot was impatient as usual, ‘it’s something to do, isn’t it? Come on.’ He walked over and lifted one end of the heavy bench.
They staggered forward with it but the weight of the bench was almost too much for Polly and she dropped her end.
She sat down on the bench, gasping for breath. ‘Oh Jamie, I’m sorry, it’s a bit too heavy for me.’
‘It’s all right, lassie,’ said the Highlander. ‘You can push it.’ Polly nodded, looked up and gave a piercing scream. Behind Jamie the door opened outwards. Framed in the doorway stood Ralph. As they watched, he moved out into the corridor towards them.
Polly quickly slipped off the bench and raised her end, the weight forgotten in the tension of the moment. ‘Quick, Jamie,’ she said. Jamie raised his end and together they swung the heavy bench against the edge of the door. The weight took the stiff, almost unseeing, man by surprise and sent him reeling back into the room. The door slammed. They wedged the long bench between the closed door and the opposite wall.
In the Weather Control Room, Hobson was making a desperate effort to contact Evans. He was speaking into the base tannoy mike and his voice was resounding from the speakers
in the room, besides reaching the man through his earphones.
‘Evans! Can you hear me? We need your help.’
Evans looked up from the Gravitron controls and slowly turned to face the men. For a moment, Hobson thought his appeal had succeeded. Then he watched as the affected man drew a Cyberman gun from his pocket, and placed it ready on the control console. Hobson edged nearer to the intervening glass screen, stretching the mike as far as it would go on its connecting cable.
‘Now listen, Evans, it’s Hobson talking. Evans, you’ve got to concentrate. Your brain has been altered by the Cybermen. You are being controlled by them!’
Evans slowly twisted round to face him again and Hobson quickly motioned to one of his men to pass him one of the Cyber-weapons left on top of the control desk. He held it up so that Evans could see.
‘We’ve got one or two of these things as well, you know. You can’t shoot all of us. Anyway, you’re a man. You’re not a Cyberman. Leave the controls and come out of there.’
Beside Hobson, Benoit was anxiously watching Evans’ activities on the control desk. ‘What’s he doing in there?’
Evans, apparently heedless of Hobson’s voice, turned back to the controls again. Benoit looked at the illuminated screen of the world. ‘The field reactors!’ He pointed, clutching Hobson’s arm. Hobson let the mike fall down by his side, and looked to where Benoit was pointing.
‘We must try to get back control,’ Benoit said, ‘and soon! He could flood half of Europe if he keeps the Gravitron aligned with the Spring tides.’
Hobson took in the world map at a glance. He nodded. ‘That settles it. We’ll have to rush him. Get those weapons out.’
Before he or Benoit could move across to the weapons, there was a sudden high-pitched hum from the R/T set, followed by a series of bleeps. Tarn’s voice came over the loudspeaker.
‘Resistance is useless. All further ships from Earth will be deflected.’
The men in the Weather Control Room stopped what they were doing and looked at the loudspeakers.
‘You must put down your weapons and open the entry port to us,’ the Cyberman continued. ‘Then you will be spared. If you do not, we shall demolish the base and you will be destroyed.’
Hobson stepped forward and raised the mike. ‘Can you hear me?’
The voice of the Cyberman came through the speaker again. ‘Everything you have said in the past half-hour has been overheard.’
Hobson nodded grimly. ‘Yes, well you can hear this too, then. We’re not finished yet, and we’ll fight you to the last man. You’ll never get into this base.’
There was a slight pause, then the Cyberman spoke again. ‘We are in it already.’
Suddenly, a sweeping gale of wind blew through the Weather Control Room. Such was its force that everyone present, including Nils and the other technicians, was dragged momentarily in the direction of the wind. Polly, who had rejoined the Doctor, was almost bowled over and clutched at him for support.
As the men steadied themselves, catching on to whatever surface was handy, they found their breath abruptly cut off and began to choke.
‘The pressure,’ Hobson croaked. He clutched his throat. ‘They’ve punctured the dome!’
Next to him, gasping for breath, Benoit managed to call out, ‘The oxygen masks! Everyone take a mask!’ He pointed. ‘They’re over there.’ He indicated a narrow bridge that ran the full extent of the room. On the bridge there were a number of panels activated by buttons. Benoit was the first to reach it. He punched one of the buttons. Immediately, as in an airliner, the panel fell open and a cone-shaped oxygen mask on the end of a long piece of plastic piping fell out.
The wind was still intense, the lack of oxygen collapsing their lungs as the men and Polly fought to stay upright and reach one of the masks.
The Doctor found a mask at the end of the bridge and, clutching the nearly unconscious Polly, thrust it over her mouth and nose. When she began to revive, still supporting her with one arm, he reached up and, punching the next button, brought one down for himself.
11
Into Battle with the Gravitron!
All the men now had the oxygen masks and were recovering. Hobson looked around, then motioned to Benoit. He put the mask down for an instant. ‘Come on, we’ve got to stop it.’
Revived by the oxygen, the two men ran over to the ladder and began to climb. Benoit was the first to reach the top of the ladder. He turned round and saw Hobson only three rungs up, hanging limply. The older man was purple in the face, trying to get his breath. ‘I – can’t – make it.’ Hobson’s words were expelled, one by one, with the last remaining oxygen in his chest.
Benoit hesitated for a moment. He watched as two of the technicians left their oxygen masks and hurried along to support the nearly unconscious Hobson.
Fighting to hold his breath, Benoit turned to look around the catwalk, which extended in a circle around the inside of the dome. There it was! A round hole about a foot in diameter had been cut in the plastic dome. Benoit staggered along the catwalk in the howling gale. He pulled himself along by the rail, fighting to get to the hole. The rush of air from the base was now helping him, drawing him towards the opening. He held on with one arm opposite the hole and, with the other, pulled off the loose tunic he wore on top of the one-piece brown overalls. Finally, he had it off and then, holding it with both hands, let the air draw him towards the hole. He spread the coat over the hole.
For a moment the wind noise ceased and Benoit thankfully gulped in what remained of the base’s oxygen. His eyes closed for a moment as he leant back against the rail. Then he opened them again, focused, and cried out in fear as he watched the air pressure slowly draw his tunic through the hole. He grabbed the sleeve and held on desperately, but it was useless against the enormous pressure. He let go just before his arm was dragged out in the wake of the coat, and watched the coat fly away over the surface of the moon. Away in the distance, he could see a group of Cybermen with a box-like apparatus on legs set up on the lunar soil.
Someone touched his shoulder. He turned. It was Ben. Ben’s face seemed to be asking him a question and Benoit, fighting for breath again, shook his head despairingly. ‘There is nothing we can do. I can’t hear you.’
Ben shook his head violently and pulled Benoit’s arm. Benoit looked down and saw that Ben was holding the plastic coffee tray that Polly had left with him in the look-out post. He was holding it against his body to avoid it being dragged away by the wind. He had brought it down from the top of the dome in that way.
Summoning up all his remaining strength, Benoit took hold of one side of the tray, while Ben held on to the other. ‘Slide it to me,’ he mouthed, shouting in the sailor’s ear. ‘Careful, don’t let go of it. We’ll have to place it in one action. No second chance! Ready?’
Ben nodded.
‘Now!’ said Benoit.
The two men lifted the tray and slammed it against the plastic side of the dome. It covered the hole with a three inch margin all round. The edges of the hole were clearly visible through the transparent plastic of the tray.
Both men stood for a moment, almost unwilling to believe that the tray had worked. They continued pressing with all their might against the edges, then they noticed that the wind noise had ceased. Benoit let his hand drop, followed by Ben. The tray remained sealed in position by the air pressure in the base.
They both slowly subsided on to the iron framework of the catwalk, gasping for breath.
Within a minute, the oxygen began to circulate again and the two men had recovered enough to stand and take a closer look at the hole cut in the plastic dome. The edges, seen through the tray, were cleanly cut and slightly burnt around the edges – by a laser beam. Benoit looked out through the clear perspex of the dome to the group of Cybermen. ‘They’re just playing with us. They could cut the dome to ribbons with that thing.’
‘Perhaps it was just a warning,’ said Ben. ‘Obviously they want the dome and Gravitron int
act, if they can get it.’
Below them, in the Weather Control Room, Nils was standing by the control panel. He had depressed a lever marked ‘Oxygen Reserve’ and was watching the dial showing the air pressure in the base creep upwards. Around him the others were reviving as they heard the steady hiss of oxygen filling the interior of the Weather Control Room.
The Doctor dropped his oxygen mask and carried Polly over to a nearby seat. ‘Are you all right?’
Polly looked up, smiled, and breathed in the air thankfully. ‘Where’s that marvellous air coming from?’
‘Oxygen reserve tanks.’ Nils indicated the oxygen pressure gauges, now registering seventy per cent.
‘But why couldn’t we have had them before?’
Nils smiled back at the girl. ‘And lose all our oxygen!’ Polly nodded a little self-consciously. ‘I see.’
‘It’s quiet,’ he said.
The Doctor was looking over at Hobson, who was beginning to recover with the rest. He was seated at the central console. ‘Yes, so it is.’ He suddenly looked around. ‘The Gravitron’s stopped!’
Nils turned round with the same thought in mind. The Gravitron had stopped and Evans was sitting with his head on the controls, unconscious.
‘Quick,’ said the Doctor, ‘before he comes to.’
The two men raced to the door and Nils shattered the bolt with one well-aimed kick. The door swung open and they went over, dragged the unconscious man away from the controls, and out of the Gravitron control room.
Benoit, closely followed by Ben, climbed down the ladder just as Nils and the Doctor dragged Evans’ body out of the room.
‘Doctor!’ Jamie had just entered. ‘I’ve barricaded the sick bay with half the chairs and tables in the base, but it won’t hold them for ever.’
‘Good,’ the Doctor smiled and pointed to the unconscious Evans, ‘here’s another one for you!’ Jamie raised his eyes skyward. ‘Oh no, Doctor, what am I going to do wi’ him?’
‘Anything you like, Jamie. Ben can help you,’ he said, as the sailor came up to them. ‘Just make sure he doesn’t come back here for a while. We can manage better without him.’