Doctor Who: Fury From the Deep (13 page)

'Yes,' said Victoria, half to herself. She was in a strange, tormented mood again. 'But what then?'

'How d'you mean, "what then?" '

'I mean, where will we go the next time?'

Jamie turned over again. It was clear that Victoria was not going to let him have his sleep. 'You know better than to ask a daft question like that! We never know where we're going to end up.

That's the fun of it.'

'Is it?' Victoria's large blue eyes were staring up at Jamie. They looked distant, and sad.

Jamie sat upright. He was concerned about Victoria. Ever since they first met, she'd been like a sister to him. They often knew what each other was thinking without actually puting it into words. But this was different. Just lately, Victoria had been showing no enthusiasm for her travels in the TARDIS. 'What's the matter, Victoria?' asked Jamie, looking his companion straight in the eyes with his inimitable reassuring smile. 'You've been behaving strange ever since - '

'It's nothing.' Victoria moved away quickly. 'It doesn't matter.'

'You'll only worry the Doctor if you keep on...'

'Oh, for goodness sake, I said it didn't matter!' Victoria had turned her back on Jamie, and was glaring tensely out of the porthole window.

Jamie watched Victoria with a mixture of incredulity and anxiety. This was not the Victoria he knew. Something was very wrong.

Victoria turned from the window. She was consumed with guilt. 'I'm sorry, Jamie. I didn't mean to... go back to sleep - please.'

Jamie took a moment or so to believe her apologetic smile.

Then he reluctantly settled back on his bunk again. 'Aye. Well don't you go worrying about that silly old weed,' he said. 'The Doctor will think of something.'

'Will he?' Victoria was gazing aimlessly out through the window again. So many questions were pulverising her thoughts.

The weed grows, feeds off natural gas. But how fast does it grow, and what happens to those people who are physically touched by it?

Victoria's innermost fears suddenly took on a horrifying reality.

'Jamie,' she said, turning quickly. 'I'm so frightened...'

Jamie was fast asleep, and snoring majestically. Victoria came across to the bunk, and glared at him. At first she was annoyed to be ignored, but as she watched him lying there with a look of perfect peace on his face, she couldn't resist an affectionate smile. To Victoria, Jamie was a very special person, the sort of brother everyone should have.

Suddenly, Victoria turned with a shocked gasp. Someone had entered the room behind her. 'Oh, it's you...' she said, sighing with relief.

'Sorry, Victoria,' said the Doctor, closing the door. 'Did I startle you? Ah!' He went straight to look at Jamie, whose snores now sounded like a Highland reel. 'Well, he certainly needed some sleep.

In fact, we all need some...' He stretched his arms, and yawned.

Victoria sat down again on the edge of the lower bunk.

'Doctor,' she asked solemnly. 'What do you think is going on in this terrible place?'

The Doctor went to look out through the porthole window. 'I'm not sure, Victoria. I'm not sure at all.' He squinted as the early morning sun beamed across his tired face. 'It all looks so peaceful out there.'

Victoria waited a moment, then said, 'I heard that noise again.

It was in the pipeline tube.'

The Doctor turned from the window, and nodded. 'Yes. I know. So did I.'

'Are they doing anything about it?'

'No. We have to wait.'

'
Wait!
' Victoria snapped. 'Wait for what? For that awful Weed Creature to come and attack us all?'

'Now, now, Victoria.' The Doctor immediately sensed Victoria's tension. He left the window, and went to sit beside her on the lower bunk. 'It's not as bad as that, you know.'

'Isn't it?' Victoria was not reassured. 'Even you don't really know how bad it is, do you? Come on now, Doctor, tell the truth - do you?'

The Doctor hesitated, then lowered his eyes uneasily. 'Well...

not exactly - no.' He quickly looked up at Victoria for her reaction.

Victoria covered her eyes with her hands. She was clearly unnerved by the Doctor's uncertainty. 'Every time we go somewhere, something awful happens. Cybermen, Daleks, Yeti - all sorts of horrible things.' She turned to look at him. There was a pleading look in her eyes. 'Why can't we ever go where there's no fighting, no wars

- just peace and happiness?'

The Doctor put his arm around Victoria, and she gently rested her head on his shoulder. 'My dear child,' said the Doctor reflectively. 'I'd take you there tomorrow - if I knew such a place existed.'

The beach was shrouded in a thin film of grey mist. The early morning sun was doing its best to penetrate the mist, and there were signs that within an hour or so it was going to turn out to be a fine, crisp winter's day.

Harris's feet were crunching on the shingles. He was well wrapped up against the bitter cold. Only his face was visible beneath the heavy Euro-Gas Company issue anorak. He came to a halt near the water's edge, and called out, 'Maggie! Where are you?' His voice sounded dull and lifeless in the frosty mist. For a few moments, he just stood there in the silence, waiting, hoping for a response to his call. Nothing. He tried again. 'Maggie! Maggie, where... are... you?'

Again nothing, only the sound of gentle waves breaking onto the shingles. But as he slowly turned, a slight breeze caused the mist to twirl, and as it did so, Harris could just glimpse the outline of a human figure standing at the water's edge, only a short distance away from him. 'Maggie!' he called excitedly. 'Darling!' He rushed toward the figure. But it was not his wife. It was a man.

The man was Robson.

Harris was shocked. 'Mr Robson! What arc you doing out here, sir?'

Robson did not reply. He was staring out to sea, a smile of calm and contentment on his face. It was almost as though he was mesmerised by the sounds coming from the depths of the ocean beyond.

Harris placed himself right in front of Robson, looking straight into his eyes. 'Sir, you have no coat on. You'll catch your death of cold.'

Robson still did not reply. His eyes were focussed through Harris rather than at him. He also looked older, and his hair was streaked with grey. That was something Harris hadn't noticed before.

Harris tried again. 'Mr Robson. Have you seen my wife?'

This time Robson did reply. But his voice was unnaturally quiet, almost inaudible. And his gaze was still bland, his thought-patterns controlled from elsewhere. 'Your wife?'

Harris stared at him eagerly. 'I've been searching all night for her. Please Mr Robson, if you've seen her...'

'You
will
find her, Mr Harris.' Robson's voice sounded stilted, almost robotic. And he made no effort to even look at Harris. 'You will soon be with her.'

'Are you sure you haven't seen her?' asked Harris desperately.

But again Robson didn't reply. He just turned away, and walked off along the beach. Harris watched him go in disbelief, then called after him. 'Mr Robson!'

Robson never looked hack. The last Harris saw of him was a silhouetted figure disappearing back into the grey, frosty mist that was now folding itself back in layers along the entire stretch of shoreline.

Back at the Refinery, van Lutyens was preparing to go down the impeller shaft. The Doctor and Jamie were tying a rope around his waist, whilst the Dutchman himself was checking the gas mask hanging around his neck.

'If you don't mind my saying Mr van Lutyens,' said the Doctor, testing the huge knot he had just tied in the Dutchman's rope, 'this is a very bad idea of yours. You don't know what you're up against.'

'Aye,' Jamie agreed, 'you wouldna' get me down there!'

'Thank you for your advice, gentlemen,' replied the Dutchman determinedly, 'but I must handle this my way.'

'With respect, sir,' said the Chief Engineer, pushing his way through the group of crewmen who were waiting anxiously by the impeller shaft, 'don't you think we should wait until Mr Harris comes back?'

The Dutchman shook his head. 'No, Chief. The only way to find out if this seaweed of yours is blocking the base of the shaft, is to go down there.'

'But you can't go alone, sir.'

The Dutchman hesitated, then turned to look back at the Chief.

'Will you send some of your men with me?'

The Chief was taken aback. He looked around the group of anxious faces. They were dreading his reply. 'I couldn't do that, sir.

Not without official approval.' The men breathed a sigh of relief.

The Dutchman grinned cynically. 'Thank you, Chief. Then let's get on with it, shall we?'

Two engineers helped him onto the lift platform. The two men were not dressed like the others. They were wearing white caps, jackets, and gloves. It was Mr Oak and Mr Quill.

'You know, I wish you wouldn't do this, Mr van Lutyens,' said the Doctor uneasily.

The Dutchman tested the strength of the rope tied around his waist. 'Just make sure you keep a firm hold on this rope. If anything goes wrong down there, I rely on you to pull me up.' He nodded to the two engineers. Mr Quill closed the safety rail, then Mr Oak pushed the operating button. Immediately a low humming sound was heard, and the lift started to move.

The Doctor and Jamie exchanged a sceptical, worried look, as they watched the indomitable figure of van Lutyens in the open lift, gradually disappearing out of view, down into the darkness of the impeller shaft...

The huge vertical shaft was a cold and eerie place, running parallel to the giant impeller itself, and extending deep into the bowels of the earth beneath the Refinery. Near the surface, small oval windows were cut into the circular metallic walls, but these were used mainly to check for any possible fractures in the pipeline tube. The only light available was that filtering down from the surface, and despite the air-conditioning system in the shaft, the air was thick and stifling.

Slowly, the lift platform descended to the base of the shaft, its passenger light casting a lattice of shadows around the metallic walls.

Van Lutyens stood there alone, staring up at the anxious faces that were peering down at him from the surface, dreading what might be waiting for him below. As the lift eased deeper and deeper into the earth, he felt as though he was drowning, his whole life dancing before him.

Suddenly, the lift came to an abrupt halt. It had reached its final destination, the base of the shaft.

Van Lutyens paused a moment, and took one last look up at the group of faces peering down at him from the surface. They were now no more than a small blob of blurred light. Then he raised the lift's safety rail, turned on his torch, and stepped out onto a narrow metal ledge which completely encircled the walls of the shaft.

Without the pulverising sound of the giant impeller, the shaft seemed to be simmering with dark secrets, bathed in an unnatural silence. Every step that the Dutchman took sent echoes reverberating around the huge metallic cylinder.

Van Lutyens moved slowly, cautiously. The beam from his electronic torch darted from one part of the wall to another. So far so good. Everything just as it should be. At least, that's the way it looked. He moved on.

Eventually, the Dutchman's torch found what it was searching for. The beam fell onto a steel airlock door in the floor of the shaft, which gave access to the pipeline tube beneath the Refinery.

Climbing down from the inspection ledge, van Lutyens placed his torch on the floor, and slowly started turning the airlock wheel. It moved stubbornly, with a metallic grating sound that sent piercing echoes around the cylindrical walls.

As soon as he was satisfied that the wheel was fully unlocked, van Lutyens took a deep breath, and using all his strength, gradually pulled open the door. He paused a moment and listened. Complete silence. He stooped down to peer through the open door in the floor.

Pitch dark. Not a sound. He picked up his torch again, and directed its beam down into the chamber beneath.

The horror was immediate. The eerie silence suddenly exploded into a cacophony of frenzied sound. It was the heartbeat.

Thumping. Pulsating. The entire shaft area was vibrating. Van Lutyens was paralysed with fear. By the lightof his torch he stared in terror at the cataclysmic sight beneath him. The entire pipeline chamber was engulfed in a seething, shapeless mass of seaweed formations, all pulsating, thumping, squealing in a surge of white bubbling foam. It was a nightmare vision, a breeding ground for an alien life-force from the dark depths of the ocean. It was a colony of devils!

'Van Lutyens... ' The Doctor's voice echoed down the lift shaft, but it had to compete with the awesome sound of the alien heartbeat.

'Doctor!' Van Lutyens yelled back frantically, but in his panic to escape, he dropped his torch and the beam went out, plunging the shaft into darkness again. He leapt up quickly, and tried to scramble back onto the inspection ledge. But it was too late. He started to cough and splutter. There was a hissing sound, and the smell of gas filled the shaft. He turned quickly, to look back over his shoulder.

Even in the dark he could see it, the shapeless form of a massive Weed Creature, rising up from the foam, hissing deadly gas fumes, its tendrils slowly snaking their way towards van Lutyens.

Van Lutyens made one last attempt to climb up onto the inspection ledge. But the creature's tendrils were on him, wrapping themselves around his ankles, pulling him back towards the foam.

The Dutchman only had time to scream once.

Van Lutyens's scream sent a cold chill of terror amongst the group waiting at the surface of the lift shaft.

'Get him up!' yelled the Chief Engineer. The tension had drained all the blood from his face.

Mr Oak pressed the lift operating button. A humming sound was heard, and the lift started its slow ascent to the surface.

'Doctor, what is it? What's happened?' Victoria had entered the Impeller Area.

'It's van Lutyens, the Dutchman,' said Jamie gloomily. 'He's down there.'