Doctor Who: MacRa Terror (7 page)

It was a grim-faced Doctor who nodded.

‘Take them to the pits,’ the Pilot ordered. ‘All three of them.’

The guards bundled them from the room, Polly still shouting defiantly: ‘The Macra are in control. They run the Colony. They run your lives!’

But as they were pushed through the crowded Labour Centre no one paid them any attention, or seemed to understand what they were saying.

In his room, the Pilot was taiking into his transmitter. ‘They are to be kept at work in the lower pit. Continuous labour. Assigned to the Danger Gang.’

He slammed down the transmitter and the Voice sounded from the blank screen. ‘Your orders are correct, Pilot. The Strangers must be used to explore the new gas reserve. There will be casualties at such work. Fatalities. It is good judgement to use them there. They will be disciplined.’

‘Yes, Controller,’ said the Pilot. He was uneasy.

‘And you will forget all you have seen,’ said the Voice.

The Pilot gave a sigh of relief. ‘Yes, Controller,’ he said.

‘The Colony enjoys hard work and happiness,’ said the Voice.

‘Yes, Controller,’ agreed the Pilot.

‘We will not tolerate the evil of such strangers.’

‘I understand, Controller.’

There was a moment of silence. The Pilot was conscious of Ben standing in the room.

He turned to him. ‘You will serve the Colony faithfully,’ he said. ‘You must keep a watch on those friends of yours. Report to me if there is anything suspicious.’

‘I will,’ said Ben.

‘You may go.’

The door opened and Ben left the room.

The pit head was like nothing Jamie had imagined. A great mass of glittering equipment, surrounded by banks of dials, computers, indicators, calculators, hummed and throbbed with a rhythm that overwhelmed him. A huge pump dominated the mechanism, moving slowly, continuously, like the beat of some fantastic heart.

In the background a dynamo hummed. Panels of equipment were given over to a range of communications. Mankind was dwarfed amongst it all.

Over and above the mechanical noise could be heard a human voice, transmitted from many points in the pit head itself, and down every passageway and shaft. It sang encouragingly: ‘We all are happy at our work, We are all happy at our toil, For the good of the Colony, Is the good of all.’

The Doctor winced. ‘Ow!’

‘What’s the matter, Doctor?’ asked Polly.

‘Did you hear that?’ The Doctor began to mimic the voice: ‘... happy in toil... for the good of all.’ He turned to Ola. ‘What a rhyme! The man who wrote that should be sent to the Danger Gang, not us.’

‘Be quiet,’ ordered Ola. He found it hard to understand this man who appeared to take nothing seriously, not even when his own life was threatened.

One wall was occupied by the usual huge screen, but it was blank. Lights flickered on and off, carrying a hundred different messages, fed into the calculators.

The Doctor noted the series of metal doors and the signs
Gas Mixing Station
and
Gas Shift Nos One and Two
.

Ola called to the man in charge. ‘You have had your instructions, Officia?’

The man addressed as Officia nodded. ‘Yes, sir. These are the three strangers?’

The Doctor joined in the conversation. ‘I suppose you might call us that.’

Ola ignored him. ‘They are to be allotted to 176 Shift.’

‘I will recall the leader immediately.’ Officia crossed to the communication panel and began sending his message.

The Doctor did not stand on ceremony. Showing no concern for what was in store for them, he appeared delighted by all he saw, scampering from instrument to instrument, nodding and smiling with appreciation.

‘Ah, yes... excellent... I see. So that works like that... and that does this...’ he turned to Officia. ‘What amazing efficiency. Whatever do you make?’

‘I thought this was a mine,’ said Jamie. ‘Ye ken, the sort of place where you dig coal.’

‘You might as well explain,’ said Ola. ‘It could motivate their work.’

Officia nodded. ‘The rock foundation of this part of the planet is a type of salt. At depths it has generated gases for millions of years. These gases have become very valuable and we have gone deep into the earth to locate and recover them.’

‘Now get to work,’ said Ola.

‘You don’t send a girl and an old man to dig in a pit!’ said Jamie in disgust.

The Doctor was indignant. ‘
Old
! what do you mean, “old”? I’m not old!’

‘You will do as you are instructed,’ said Ola.

A man arrived through one of the passages leading to the pit. He was dressed in overalls from head to foot, and wore a helmet over his head with a pair of goggles. He had a small cylinder strapped to his back. There was a greasy substance mixed with grey dust splattered all over him.

‘The leader of the shift,’ Officia told Ola.

‘Very well,’ said Ola. ‘You know what instructions to give him. Report to us with any irregularities.’ He strode off.

Officia hurriedly checked his controls, while the shift leader took off his helmet. It was Medok!

‘How did you get here?’ asked Jamie.

‘They decided I was a hopeless case,’ said Medok. ‘They threw me out of the Hospital. I was beyond their famous Correction.’

‘Why send you here?’ asked Polly.

‘It was the worst place they could think of,’ said Medok. ‘If they can’t cure you, they kill you. And believe me, not many get out of this place alive!’

The Doctor sniffed the air with a frown.

‘That’s it, Doctor,’ Medok nodded. ‘It’s the atmosphere! It’s lethal. The gas gets everywhere. Just in little doses, but all the time. No matter how you try to avoid it... slowly into your lungs... And when you’re down there’ – he pointed to the passageway – ‘you walk into the thick of it.’

‘Come on, Medok, get them out of here. Back to work.’

‘What’s the hurry?’ asked Medok.

‘Do you want me to call the guard?’ asked Officia.

‘Relax,’ said Medok. ‘But we’re entitled to an instrument supervisor on this shift. You should know that.’

‘I do know that,’ said Officia grudgingly.

‘Right,’ said Medok. ‘Then I’m leaving him.’ He indicated the Doctor. ‘He stays up here, and keeps an eye on our indicators for danger levels.’

‘I imagine it’s considerably safer to stay up here,’ suggested the Doctor.

‘Right,’ said Medok.

‘Then let Polly check the indicators. I’m perfectly capable of doing my share in the pit.’

‘Cut out the heroics,’ said Medok. ‘You stay.’

‘I don’t understand all this equipment,’ protested the Doctor.

‘Then don’t you think it might be a good opportunity to get to know it?’ suggested Medok.

‘It’s a good idea.’ Jamie nudged the Doctor.

‘Oh yes. Oh, of course. Very well. I’ll stay,’ said the Doctor.

‘What’s the hold-up?’ Officia asked sharply.

‘No hold-up,’ Medok assured him. ‘We’re on our way... just as soon as you issue masks and protective clothing.

‘You’re capable of doing that,’ said Officia. ‘Get on with it.’

As the Doctor watched them put on their overalls, he said a little wistfully, ‘What a pity. I would like to have had a mask and helmet.’

He watched them follow Medok down the brightly-lit passageway. Officia followed in their wake. ‘I’ll show you your assignment,’ he said. Then the Doctor returned to the range of instruments that covered the wall.

‘Let me see...’ mused the Doctor. ‘How very ingenious... Now I suppose with a slight adjustment...’

He was about to turn one of the dials on the board when he caught sight of someone watching from the doorway.

‘Hello, Ben!’ called the Doctor cheerfully. ‘Don’t go. No need to be afraid of an old friend.’

‘I’ve got no reason to be afraid,’ said Ben. ‘I’ve done nothing wrong.’

‘Of course you haven’t,’ said the Doctor, returning to examine the instruments. ‘It wasn’t your fault that you betrayed your friends.’

‘The voices told me what to do,’ said Ben.

‘Have you ever thought the voices may not be right?’

‘I do what I’m told,’ said Ben.

‘And that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? The voices have told you to spy on us. What does the Pilot want to know this time?’ He turned to Ben with a warm smile. ‘This is not like you, is it, Ben? You, the most loyal of all men!’

‘It’s my duty,’ said Ben stubbornly.

The Doctor gave a wry smile. ‘It’s hard to struggle against the voices. I know that. But I warn you, if you intend to spy on the others, watch out for Jamie. He’s not as forgiving as I am.’

The character of the passageway changed as Jamie and Polly followed Medok down the slope, passing groups of helmeted workers adjusting cables or carrying equipment. The atmosphere grew hotter, and every now and again they came across groups of exhausted men and women, who were heading for the upper levels.

Jamie’s indignation was roused when he saw what they were being forced to do.

‘You shouldna make the lassies do the work of men,’ he protested as he saw two men and a girl struggling to pull a heavy cable along the shaft.

‘The Danger Gang do as they are ordered,’ said Officia. ‘It is punishment for their refusal to cooperate.’

‘We get the dirtiest work,’ explained Medok. ‘We go where the gas is worst.’

‘It’s your own fault,’ said Officia. ‘If you obeyed Control like the rest of us...’

‘Forget it,’ said Medok. ‘I’d rather have a little poison in my lungs than all that poisonous thought in my brain.’

The shaft suddenly echoed with the ringing of a bell.

‘What’s that?’

‘A gas strike,’ Medok told them.

‘Quickly!’ Officia urged them. ‘Get them back to your squad, Medok.’

A voice echoed along the shaft. ‘Extra cables to be taken to shaft three immediately.’

‘Help with that cable.’ Officia indicated the cable which the two men and the girl were trying desperately to drag.

Another bell sounded, a high-pitched note.

‘The warning signal,’ said Medok grimly.

‘Hurry, or we could be dead,’ shouted Officia. Jamie and Polly joined the others, pulling the heavy cable yard by yard.

‘What’s going on?’ Jamie gasped.

‘Sounds like they’ve struck so much gas they can’t syphon it all off. It must be flooding these passages. When it reaches a certain density the alarm goes off.’

‘Get a move on!’ urged Officia. ‘Get the cable to the strike.’

Bit by bit they pulled it up the shaft until they reached an intersection. The weight of it as they turned knocked Polly to the ground. Jamie ran to help her.

‘Leave her!’ Officia was furious. ‘Keep the cable moving.’

Jamie ignored him, helping Polly to her feet. ‘You all right?’ he asked.

She nodded, breathless. They went back to join the others.

A few yards along the intersection another girl was struggling to drive a metal pipe into the side of the wall. She was on the point of collapse before Officia would let another man take over. Polly and Jamie found themselves part of this little group, panting with the strain, sweat streaking their faces, covered with dust, almost mechanical in their actions as they began to fit the cable to the end of the pipe. Close at hand Jamie could hear gas escaping.

One of the group began coughing, but no one had time to stop to help him as they struggled to make the connection. Once that was done the sound of escaping gas stopped.

The man, still coughing, slipped to the ground. ‘Get him up to the surface,’ called Medok. ‘Now screw the cable into place.’

Medok gave a series of instructions while he helped Jamie and Polly to tighten the cable and the pipe into the wall. The gas still filtered round them.

‘Get your masks on,’ Medok told them. ‘They’re in your pockets.’

With masks over their faces they finished the job and fell back weakly against the wall.

‘What’s it all for?’ Polly croaked.

‘We locate this gas in the ground, the roof... or like this, in the walls. It kills us if we breathe it... And no one knows what it’s used for.’

They looked at him in wonder.

The Doctor had a very clear idea what was happening by the readings on the diais. He watched the abrupt increase of gas flowing into reserves and guessed they had made the adjustment that syphoned it into some reserve.

He gave a sigh of relief, and turned to a further set of readings which fascinated him. He noted them thoughtfully, cocking his head to one side as he made some calculations.

‘Hmmm,’ he said aloud. ‘Very instructive... One must assume there is a relative connection that is constant... Let me see.’

He picked up a piece of chalk and began to scrawl his equations on the wall, working out a calculation.

When he had finished he stepped back to review his work, rather like a painter standing back to see his picture. And, like a painter, the Doctor looked rather pleased with hirnself.

He darted forward to make a final addition which he chalked in at the foot of his massive calculation.

‘Now, let me see... Yes, I think that’s right in every detail... I’ll give myself ten out of ten.’

He wrote his marks beside the sum, giving it a large tick.

He turned to see the Pilot walk in at the door, and look at the calculation in amazement.

‘Where did you find that?’

‘What?’ The Doctor looked innocent.

‘This formula,’ said the Pilot.

‘Oh, it’s out of my head, you know.’ The Doctor tried to sound a little modest.

‘Don’t lie!’ said the Pilot. ‘That’s a secret formula known to only a few selected brains in the Colony.’

‘And you’re one of them?’

‘Naturally,’ said the Pilot. ‘So don’t expect me to believe that you worked that out in a few minutes – that you could analyse a formula that has taken our combined computers years to perfect!’

The Doctor was delighted with himself. ‘Yes, that would seem a tall order.’

‘I know what you’ve done,’ said the Pilot sharply. ‘You’ve broken into one of the security files and found it.

‘Heavens, no,’ said the Doctor. ‘I wouldn’t know how to do a thing like that.’

The Pilot peered at the figures on the wall. ‘But you must have seen the documents... That is the exact computation.’