'Shut up!' snarled Borg, and smashed the bag out of his hand.
The Doctor picked it up and stuffed it back in his pocket. 'A simple "no thank you" would have been sufficient,' he said, reprovingly. He studied the people around him, the elaborate robes and head-dresses, the complex designs of the face paint. It was a form of dress typical of a robot-dependent society, in which no human needed to perform any manual labour.
Uvanov marched in. Behind him was Leela, still held captive by D.84. Poul was close behind them.
'Return to normal duties, D.84,' said Poul. The robot released Leela and moved away. Leela glared round, rubbing her arms. Her face lit up at the sight of the Doctor. 'Are you all right?'
The Doctor smiled reassuringly. 'I'm fine.'
Uvanov looked at the assembled crew. There was the elegant Toos, the dark-skinned Zilda, sitting bolt upright and glaring at him, the heavy figure of Borg, the lean, muscular Cass, and the neat, precise Dask. Poul lounged casually in the doorway, watchful as ever, and the Co-ordinator Robot SV.7 stood on guard. Its handsome metal features were incapable of expression, but some-thing about the tilt of its head showed keen attentiveness. Uvanov folded his arms. 'There's been another murder,' he announced. 'Cass is dead!'
Leela edged closer to the Doctor. 'That one's ready to kill,' she hissed, nodding towards Uvanov. 'He attacked me—I had to discourage him. What's the matter with these people?'
'They're frightened, Leela. That's why they're dangerous.'
Borg advanced threateningly on Leela. 'So you murdered Cass, did you?'
'How do you know Cass was murdered, Borg?' asked Poul quietly.
Borg paused, baffled. 'Well, it's obvious.'
'You marked Cass for death,' said Zilda suddenly. 'What are you talking about?'
'You did put a corpse marker on him,' said Poul quietly. 'Right here, in this crewroom.'
'Well, yes, but it was a joke. I didn't mean anything by it.'
Dask, precise as always, wanted more details. 'Was Cass killed in the same way as the others?'
'Yes, exactly the same.' Uvanov swung round on the Doctor. 'Who are you?'
'I'm the Doctor. I assume you're in command?'
'Yes. What are you doing here?'
'I'm standing talking to you!'
Uvanov's face twisted with rage, 'I'd be very careful if I were you!' he screamed.
The Doctor looked at the elaborately dressed figure before him. There was something pathetic about Uvanov. A middle-aged man pretending to be young, a weak man trying to be strong. Almost dismissively the Doctor said, 'Yes, no doubt you would.'
The indifference in the Doctor's voice drove Uvanov wild. 'What are you doing on my Sandminer?' he shouted.
The Doctor sighed. It was always difficult explaining the arrival of the TARDIS, and in circumstances like these it was almost impossible. 'Well, we're here by accident actually.'
'Oh, I see,' sneered Uvanov. 'A million square miles of uncharted desert, and you just stumbled across us?'
The Doctor smiled. 'Well, it's a small world, isn't it?'
'I suppose it's a coincidence that just as you arrive three of our people are murdered?'
The Doctor said nothing.
'Well?' screamed Uvanov.
'Oh, I'm sorry, I thought that was a rhetorical question. Yes, it is just a coincidence.'
'Look, why are we wasting time?' said Borg impatiently. 'We know they're guilty.'
'We don't know anything of the kind,' snapped Zilda.
'We just hope they're guilty,' said Poul. 'Otherwise it's one of us!'
Borg pointed accusingly at the Doctor. 'He was hiding Kerril's body in that hopper, and got trapped in there when it was turned on. Now that's a fact.'
'No,' said the Doctor with sudden authority. 'That's an inference. I wasn't hiding that body, I was finding it. And I'd say it was put there for precisely that purpose. The real killer wanted me dead, the body was the bait in the trap.'
'The others were all strangled,' Poul pointed out. 'Why should you be treated differently?'
'Because the murderer wanted to cast suspicion on me.'
'Why bother? You're a stowaway, Doctor. What could be more suspicious than a stowaway?'
'A dead stowaway,' said the Doctor grimly. 'Accidentally killed, automatically assumed guilty, unable to •defend himself.'
'It's possible, you know,' said Zilda thoughtfully. 'He could be telling the truth.'
Toos looked up. 'It's certainly pretty feeble for a lie—so perhaps it is the truth after all.'
'Ever hear of the double bluff?' said Uvanov.
'Well, yes, now you come to mention it,' said the Doctor chattily.
Uvanov turned to SV.7. 'Put a guard on them.'
'Nearest Voc, priority red two, section six,' said SV.7.
'I agree with the Commander,' said Borg aggressively. 'They're obviously guilty.'
'Well, you would, wouldn't you?' said Zilda. 'It gets you out of a very awkward situation!'
'Why don't you shut your mouth, Zilda?'
'Why don't you shut yours, Borg,' said Toos wearily.
'What? When she's accusing me of murdering my friend?'
'You never had any friends, Borg,' sneered Zilda. 'Have you all quite finished?' yelled Uvanov. There was silence. 'Right, listen. Either one of us did the killings, or they did. Now, which do you think's the most likely?'
'There is one other possibility you seem to have overlooked,' said the Doctor helpfully.
'Shut up!' bellowed Borg. 'We've heard enough out of you.'
The Doctor looked thoughtfully at Borg's hulking figure. 'You know, you're a classic example of the inverse ratio between the size of the mouth and the size of the brain—'
The Doctor's insult was cut off by Borg's big hands, clamped around his throat. 'You stinking murderer!'
Dask pulled Borg away. 'Calm down, Borg. It doesn't matter, we've caught them now.'
Robot V.8 entered and stood waiting for orders.
'Lock up the two strangers, V.8,' ordered Uvanov.
SV.7 took hold of the Doctor's arm, V.8 took Leela's and the two prisoners were led away.
Uvanov looked round. 'We'll decide what to do about them later. Meanwhile, everybody back to work.'
Poul rubbed a hand across his face. 'I still don't like it
'You don't have to like it, Poul. Just do it. Now move, all of you.'
As they began to file out, Uvanov said, 'We'll all have to work extra shifts. Still, now there's fewer of us, we each get a larger share, that's one consolation.'
Toos gave him a scornful look. 'No, Commander, it isn't a consolation.'
Zilda was the last to leave. Uvanov reached out and touched her arm. 'Tell me, Zilda, why do you hate me? I don't hate you. We could be friends ...'
'You flatter yourself, Commander,' said Zilda coldly.
'By the time this trip is over I'll have more money than you ever dreamed of. I could restore your family fortunes, Zilda!'
The dark girl pulled away. 'May I go now, Commander?' Without waiting for an answer, she hurried from the room.
In the ore separation hall, a robot stood waiting patiently by the hoppers. Its head turned at the sound of human footsteps.
The human held out a red disc. 'Zilda is next.'
The robot's eyes flared red as it took the disc. 'I will kill .Zilda.'
Not far away, in the storage area, the Doctor and Leela stood with metal bands round necks, hips and ankles clamping them to the wall.
Leela was struggling furiously. 'These metal straps, they're thin but they won't budge ..
The Doctor stood calm and relaxed within his bonds. 'Of course not.'
'But the robots bent them as if they were leather!'
'They've locked the molecular structure,' explained the Doctor. 'Result, bonds as solid as steel.'
Leela slumped back against the wall. 'It's hopeless!'
'Oh, I wouldn't say that!'
The Doctor was standing very still,
his eyes closed.
'What are you doing, Doctor?'
'Concentrating!' said the Doctor mysteriously. 'What's locked can be unlocked, it's merely a matter of thinking out the right molecular combination.'
'How long will that take?'
'Oh, no more than two or three weeks.'
'Three weeks?' said Leela appalled.
'Well, there are several million possible combinations to work through, you see.'
'You don't seem to be taking this very seriously, Doctor!'
'I'm taking it very seriously, I assure you. I have the uncomfortable feeling that if the murderer doesn't kill us, the Commander will. Assuming of course that they're not one and the same person!'
The Command Deck had returned to its normal pattern of activity, though the tensions between the human crew members swirled in the air like ocean currents. Impervious to all human dramas, the robots moved quietly and efficiently about their tasks.
Dask and V.8 stood beside a computer read-out screen, checking navigational co-ordinates, in an attempt to track the storm, which had veered away during the crisis.
'Project those figures, V.8,' ordered Dask. A flow of symbols began moving across the little screen.
Toos looked up from some calculations of her own.
'We're nearly 50 per cent under target for the first third of the Operation.'
'Tell the Commander,' suggested Zilda maliciously, remembering Uvanov's boast of his coming riches.
Hovering over the spectrograph screen, Uvanov caught the sound of his name. 'Tell the Commander what?'
'Unless we find a rich vein soon, Commander, we risk taking the Sandminer back half-empty,' said Toos bluntly. 'You'll barely cover your operating costs.'
Uvanov went pale, but said bravely, 'Don't worry, Toos, I've never gone back to base with an empty miner yet.'
'This trip could be different.'
'It's certainly been different so far,' said Zilda pointedly. 'I'm taking my rest period now, Commander.'
'Oh are you?'
'If you don't mind, Commander,' said Zilda sweetly, and left the control room.
'I think I'd better rearrange the duty schedules,' grumbled Uvanov. 'One hour on deck and she has to go and rest!'
'Rest time is an entitlement, Commander,' Dask reminded him primly.
'Maybe it is. But now the miner's undermanned, we're not going to make our quota unless everyone—'
He broke off as V.16 said, 'Lucanol stream, bearing two four.'
Lucanol was the rarest and the most valuable of the minerals found in the desert sands. Uvanov rushed eagerly to the spectroscope screen. 'I see it, V.16.'
Toos was intent upon her scanners. 'Stream veering left!'
'All right, Toos, relax.' At times like this, there was something curiously impressive about Uvanov. Whatever his other faults, he was the complete professional when it came to his job.
V.16 was immune to the excitement affecting the humans. 'Ground centre veering seven two x zero, running time four point one.'
'We're losing it!' said Toos.
Uvanov shook his head. 'Centre right four degrees, V.16.' He looked at Toos. 'For your information, I've never lost an ore stream yet. Centre right two degrees.'
Skilfully, Uvanov manoeuvred the massive Sandminer into the path of the storm.
'Someone's coming!' whispered Leela.
The Doctor had heard nothing, but Leela seemed to be able to sense the approach of danger.
Sure enough the door slid open. They heard footsteps approaching them. The storeroom door was just out of their eyeline. Clamped to the wall as they were, it was impossible to turn and see who was coming.
Leela remembered the Doctor saying that the murderer intended to kill them. He would never have a better opportunity. Unable to move, the Doctor and Leela waited.
The footsteps came closer .. .
7 The Hunter
The owner of the approaching footsteps came round in front of them. It was Poul.
He looked thoughtfully at the two captives, and moved closer.
Leela began struggling furiously again.
Poul realised his arrival was causing some alarm. 'It's all right. I only want to help you.'
'You could start by unfastening these clamps,' suggested the Doctor.
'Back in the crewroom—you said there was one possibility we'd overlooked. What is it?'
'Be careful of him, Doctor,' said Leela fiercely. 'He is not what he seems!'
Poul looked hard at her. 'Why do you say that?'
'You move like a hunter. And you watch—all the time.'
The Doctor smiled. 'Are you a hunter, Poul?'
'Never mind about me. What matters to you is Commander Uvanov. I know him, and it's only a matter of time before he decides it's a waste of food and water keeping you two alive.'
'And that concerns you?'
Poul nodded towards Leela. 'I don't think she killed Cass. He was young and strong. Even she couldn't have strangled him without knocking him out first, and there was no sign of that. So, tell me what you know, and I'll try to help you.'
The Doctor said, 'Well, er,' and stopped, looking significantly down at the metal clamps.
Poul hesitated, then touched a communications device in his belt. The clamps relaxed as the molecular bond came free, and the Doctor was able to free himself.
The Doctor rubbed his arms and said, 'Ah, thank you.' As if continuing an uninterrupted conversation he went on, 'One of your robots could have committed the murders.'
Poul laughed. 'What? So that's your great theory, is it? Well, it's nonsense. Robots can't kill.'
'I know, I know, it's the first programme impressed on any robot brain from the simplest Dum to the most complex Super-Voc. But suppose someone's found a way of bypassing that programme?'
'That's impossible,' said Foul flatly. 'It's just—impossible.'
'Bumblebees!'
'What?'
'Bumblebees are a Terran insect. It's aerodynamically impossible for them to fly—but they do it.' The Doctor sighed nostalgically. 'I'm rather fond of bumblebees ..
He headed for the door. 'Come on, I want you to show me the scene of the first crime.'
Poul started to follow him, and Leela coughed meaningly. 'Er—hmm!' Poul touched his communicator again and Leela's bonds came free. 'Thank you!' she said and hurried after the Doctor.
Zilda opened the door to the Commander's cabin, looked round cautiously, and slipped inside.
She had been waiting for this opportunity for months. Now, with the Sandminer undermanned, and its Commander preoccupied with the storm, there would never be a better chance. She hurried to Uvanov's desk.
The desk was a large, ornate affair with a plastic surface finished to look like polished leather. Its deliberately old-fashioned appearance concealed the usual array of speech-transcribers and communications devices.
Zilda took a communicator from inside her robe and keyed it to the Commander's personal code. A hidden drawer in the desk slid silently open. Inside lay a number of slim black files. Zilda started to go through them, one by one.
Poul paused at the entrance to the storeroom and waved a hand. 'Here we are, Doctor. The first murder happened here.'
The Doctor moved inside and looked around. There was little enough to see, just a long, thin, metal-walled room lined with racks and shelves. Brightly lit, tidy, sterile. Nothing now to show that someone had died horribly here just a short time ago. 'Tell us about it, Poul. What was his name?'
'His name was Chub. He was a Government meteorologist. I don't know much about him, he wasn't a regular part of the crew. He just came along to study the storms.'
'Who found him?'
'I did. I heard him scream and came looking.' Poul paused thoughtfully. 'It was odd, that scream, because he was strangled like the others.'
The Doctor nodded. 'And whoever killed him was strong, too strong for him to resist?'
Leela had been listening with interest. Sudden deat
h was one of her specialities. 'He could have been taken completely by surprise.'
Poul shook his head. 'He had time to scream, remember.'
'What was he doing here?' asked the Doctor.
'We were on the run-up to a storm. He came to get an instrument package to send up in one of his weather balloons.'
'Where was he found?'
Poul pointed. 'There—just by that storage rack.'
The Doctor studied the rack. It was filled with weather balloon packs, with the cylinders of helium gas to inflate them ranged below. 'We shall reconstruct the crime,' he announced. 'Right, Poul, you're Chub. There's a storm coming up, and you need one of those packages in a hurry. Go on, man, get it.'
Poul stared at him, then reached for the package at the end of the rack. It should have slid out smoothly—but it didn't. Poul tugged. 'Seems to be stuck. It must have got jammed.'
'Come on, come on,' urged the Doctor. 'You're in a hurry, remember. What do you do? What do you people always do when you've a job that's too hard or too boring for you?'
Poul said slowly, 'I call for a robot...'
A robot was walking along the corridor that led to the Commander's office. Zilda's movements had been monitored for some time. Now she was alone, at a time when the other humans were busy.
It was the perfect opportunity.
Zilda had found the file for which she was looking. It held a stack of computer print-out flimsies, the log of an expedition commanded by Uvanov some years ago. She was reading absorbedly.
The robot paused outside Uvanov's office. From inside its tunic it produced a glowing red disc—a corpse marker. It reached for the door control.
Zilda found the section she was looking for, and read through it with steadily mounting horror. Her face twisted with grief and anger, and she gave a choked sob. She reached for the communicator. 'You did it, Uvanov,' she shouted. 'You're a murderer!'
In the control room, Uvanov looked up unbelievingly as Zilda's hysterical voice blared from the speaker. He flicked the communicator. 'Zilda, is that you?'
Doctor Who and the Robots of Death Page 4