Doctor Who: The Underwater Menace (12 page)

The Doctor sighed. In his long life not one of his travelling companions ever seemed to have the good sense to stay still and do nothing. They always wanted to interfere and meddle, and invariably they always needed him to get themselves out of the mess they had put themselves in.

‘We’ll have to find them,’ he resolved, and then gathered everyone around him. Satisfied that he was the centre of attention, he began, ‘Now listen everyone, I have a plan.’

By his side Ben groaned; he had plenty of experience of the Doctor’s plans.

The Doctor caught his companion’s scepticism and added pointedly: ‘It might even work...’

‘Well?’ asked Sean.

‘First of all, did you succeed in persuading the Fish People to strike?’

Sean nodded.

‘Good.’ The Doctor congratulated him. ‘That will give us time. Zaroff will be busy trying to quell the rioters...

Now, our one hope of stopping Zaroff is to flood all the lower levels of Atlantis.’

Ben’s mouth gaped open in astonishment at the Doctor’s bizarre scheme. The Doctor had come up with some strange plans before but this surely was the strangest of them all!

‘Hang on a minute,’ he said. ‘That means in here..

‘That’s right – the temple and Zaroffs laboratory.’

Sean liked the plan even less than Ben. ‘But what if the water doesn’t stop here? What if it continues to rise?’

‘We’ll just have to take that chance,’ said the Doctor.

‘But what about the people down here?’ asked Jacko.

‘Well, the Fish People obviously won’t be in any danger,’ said the Doctor. ‘The others will have to be warned and moved to a higher level. That’s yours and Sean’s job.’

‘Wait a minute, Doctor,’ said Sean. ‘Why are nine hundred Atlanteans going to listen to a couple of renegade miners going on about gloom and doom? I know we convinced the Fish People but that was different.’

The Doctor was troubled for a moment and then said,

‘Take Ara with you. She’s known and respected throughout the city – perhaps they’ll listen to her.’

‘That is true,’ said the girl. ‘Most of the people of Atlantis distrust Zaroff. And I still have friends within the council.’

‘But what about the priests?’ asked Ben. ‘Surely they won’t be persuaded to leave? I thought they had this sort of attachment to their motherland.’

‘Lolem has disappeared,’ Ara informed them. ‘He is nowhere to be found. Without him the priests are easily led; their will can be broken.’

‘Good!’ said the Doctor and clapped his hands with satisfaction. ‘Well, that’s settled then! We must hurry –

there’s little time left.’

‘And what will you do?’ asked Jacko.

‘Ben and I will try and get to the generating station,’

said the Doctor. ‘Once there we’ll turn up the power of the reactor. Hopefully the increased power will break down the sea walls and flood the laboratory.’ There was a pause as the Doctor considered his plan. Then a new thought struck him and a worried frown crossed his brow. ‘Of course, there is just one thing that’s bothering me...’

‘What’s that?’

‘Can we all swim?’

From a high dais Zaroff surveyed his laboratory. About twenty white-coated technicians and scientists –

Atlanteans that he had personally selected and trained –

milled around the dozen or so chattering computer banks and communication units, checking reports which came in from all parts of the city. Zaroff had trained his scientists well. Each was superbly equipped to perform his own particular task – and no other. None of them had an overview of the situation, an understanding of every aspect of the Project; in this way none of them could suspect Zaroffs true purpose. Their faith in Zaroff was total and unquestioning.

At the far end of the laboratory, opposite the water tank which held Neptune, the scientist’s pet octopus, was Zaroffs own personal work area. Here was a multi-panelled console, one control of which was the mechanism which would drop a small fission bomb into the hole created by the gigantic drill and crack the Earth’s crust, thereby allowing the ocean to rush into the centre of the Earth.

Surrounding the console were several banks of computers.

Due to the delicate nature of the controls here this area was out-of-bounds to all but Zaroff on pain of death. But there was one person who had disobeyed this order and was even now crouched hidden behind one of the computers, scarcely daring to breathe as he watched Zaroff through unblinking hate-filled eyes. Had Zaroff not been so self-assured, and had he looked a little closer, he might have seen the shadowy figure. But the very idea that his orders could be disobeyed and his workplace invaded was unthinkable to the great scientist. He held all Atlantis in his power; who would dare?

Zaroff s laboratory was the nerve centre of his entire operation. Here he was in contact with all the stations necessary to ensure the success of his Project: the generating station and subsidiary power stations, the work stations, and the drill head itself. As he walked purposefully among his technicians and scientists, checking up on and approving their work, voices crackled through radio speakers as stations relayed in their hourly routine checks. Zaroff nodded with satisfaction and looked at the large digital countdown display on one of the walls; everything seemed to be going according to plan –

penetration of the Earth’s crust would happen in little under two hours’ time. Suddenly he tensed as a new worried voice came over one of the speakers.

‘Priority! Priority! Station Three calling!’

Zaroff pushed aside the technician manning the communications console and spoke directly to the station himself. ‘Zaroff here,’ he said, a touch of concern in his voice. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘The power in Station Three is fluctuating and un-predictable.’

‘So bring in the reserves!’ snapped Zaroff.

‘The reserves? But if they fail...’

‘That is an order!’ he cried. ‘Report back if the fault continues.’ Nothing now must be allowed to interfere with Zaroff s great moment. And what if the reserves did fail? In two hours’ time they would never be needed again.

Zaroff turned to the assembled multitude of scientists.

‘We have reached the most important stage of the operation,’ he announced. ‘Everything must run smoothly, like the cogs of a well-oiled machine. Nothing must be allowed to go wrong.’

Had Zaroff been supersitious like so many of his workers he would have known better than to tempt fate like that. With faultless timing a voice came over the communications system.

‘Power network control, come in, power network control...’

‘Zaroff here. What’s the trouble?’

‘Station Thirteen is no longer operating,’ came the reply. ‘It’s been deserted.’

Zaroffs face flushed red with rage. ‘Deserted!’ he burst out. ‘What’s the matter with them? Where have they gone?’

‘They’re out looking for food.’

‘Why?’

‘The food supplies have not arrived and there’s a rumour we’re all facing starvation. They’ve run off and panicked.’

Zaroff s face suddenly turned deathly white. ‘And we have no reserves...’ he said slowly.

‘That’s right.’

Zaroff slammed his fist hard down upon the worktop.

‘Get them back at once!’ he screamed into the micro-phone. ‘Send the guards after them!’

‘I had to bring the guards into the power plant to prevent a complete power breakdown...’

Zaroff was speechless. Finally he said, ‘Very well... do the best you can. I’ll get more men to you within the hour.’

He glared at the technicians and scientists who had stopped their work to observe this outburst. ‘Well, what are you staring at! Get back to your work stations at once! Or I shall have you all killed!’

His eyes ablaze with anger Zaroff stormed angrily into his own work area. ‘Blast! Blast! Blast!’ he cried out. His anger was not quelled when within the next five minutes two similar reports came in from other power stations.

The great Professor Zaroff had always used other people and had always despised them, the followers, or the little men as he called them. But like many other dictators throughout history he had underestimated their worth or their anger when roused. Together they presented a formidable force. Now the Fish People – the lowest of the low in all Atlantis – were bringing Zaroff’s carefully-laid plans to a halt. Sean and Jacko had done their work well.

The Doctor and Ben’s progress to the generating station was surprisingly easy. Ara, Sean and Jacko, with the aid of some of Ara’s more influential friends, and, of course the wounded King Thous himself, had wasted no time in alerting the people of Atlantis to the approaching danger and already a mass exodus was in progress in the tunnels leading up to the surface. They had also succeeded in persuading many of the guards, who preferred their lives to their privileged positions as members of Zaroff s elite force, to join the common folk in running for their lives.

So it was only in the lower level where the laboratory and power stations were situated that an effective guard force remained, ignorant of the coming catastrophe.

Even down here only a skeleton force was in operation; many of the guards had been forced to man the power stations as, one by one, technicians deserted in search of food.

There was however an armed guard standing by the entrance to the generating station.

‘How are we going to get past him?’ whispered Ben.

‘We’ll walk past him,’ replied the Doctor simply.

‘In
those
clothes?’ asked Ben, finding himself once more in the position of reminding the Doctor of one of the more important facts of life: namely that a shabbily dressed little tramp usually encounters at least a minimum of resistance when trying to enter a zone of strictly regimented military security.

The Doctor looked down at his baggy untidy clothes.

‘You think I look a bit conspicuous, don’t you?’ he asked, a look of woeful hurt on his face.

‘A little bit, yes.’

‘Maybe you’re right... but you’re still wearing your guard’s uniform... I know! You’re the guard and I’m your prisoner! Shall we try that?’

Ben grinned and grabbed the Doctor’s arm and marched him towards the waiting guard. As soon as they came into sight the guard raised his gun and ordered them to halt and identify themselves.

‘Prisoner and escort for Professor Zaroff,’ Ben said in a clipped voice.

‘Password?’ demanded the guard.

Ben’s face fell and he feigned ignorance.

‘Password,’ repeated the guard impatiently. He’d had a hard day, he was hungry and he was not in the mood to be bothered by thick new recruits to the guard force.

Ben decided to try a different tack. ‘Look mate,’ he began amicably, ‘it’s all right you giving me all this flak but I don’t know anything about passwords. I’ve been out chasing this geezer all day!’

The guard’s stern face softened a little at Ben’s comradely tone. ‘Zaroffs not here anyway,’ he said. ‘He’s in his laboratory.’

‘I know that! My orders were to bring the prisoner here and wait.’

‘That’s all very well,’ the guard said cautiously, ‘but how do I know he’s a wanted man?’

Ben indicated the Doctor’s shabby frock coat, red spotted bow tie, baggy trousers and battered shoes.

‘Blimey, just look at him! He ain’t normal, is he!’

The guard looked the Doctor up and down disdainfully as if the little man had just approached him and asked for ten pence for a cup of tea. ‘All right,’ he said finally. ‘You can go in.’ As Ben led the Doctor inside he called after them: ‘And make sure he has a bath too!’

Once the door was closed on them, the Doctor rubbed his hands with glee and danced a little jig of joy. ‘Well done, Ben!’ he chuckled. ‘I’m not quite sure about that bit about not looking normal though... but I couldn’t have done better myself!’

‘Well, now that we’re in here what do we do?’ asked Ben.

‘You know, I haven’t the slightest idea,’ admitted the Doctor, whether seriously or not Ben couldn’t quite tell.

‘Let’s just pull a few levers here and push a few buttons there and see what happens, shall we?’

Polly looked down despondently at the map Ara had given her, turning it this way and that in an effort to make some sense out of it. After leaving the others in search of the Doctor she and Jamie had seemed to have spent the last hour or so wandering through narrow dark tunnels guided only by the light of two torches. Failing to make head or tail of the map she threw it to the rocky floor in a fit of pique.

‘Oh, Jamie, I think we’re lost...’ she said needlessly.

‘Aye,’ said the young Scot.

Polly caught the implied criticism in his voice. ‘Well, it’s not my fault,’ she protested fiercely. ‘They didn’t teach us things like map-reading at school. You might not believe this but it wasn’t expected that we’d spend the rest of our lives wandering around in a maze of tunnels underneath the sea! And anyway you’ve not been doing too well yourself.’

Jamie was tempted to remind Polly that not only had he not been taught map-reading at school he hadn’t even been to a school. Instead he drew her attention to a low dull throbbing noise which echoed throughout the tunnel.

‘We must be somewhere near Zaroffs power source,’

guessed Polly.

‘It’s like the beating of the devil’s heart.’

‘You’re not far wrong,’ she said wryly. ‘But at least it means that Zaroff can’t be far away. We’d better keep moving?’

‘Aye... but which way?’

The Doctor stood back and admired his handiwork with pride.

‘So what have you done, Doctor?’ asked Ben who had been anxiously guarding the door as the Doctor tinkered with the complex controls to Zaroffs nuclear generator.

The floor was littered with an untidy pile of wires and circuitry, and several components which the Doctor had fished out of his capacious pockets only to discard when he found they wouldn’t serve his purpose.

‘Well, I think I’ve overloaded the generator. With a bit of luck that should release a controlled amount of radiation which will only affect this immediate area, and a series of localised explosions. That should have the effect of breaking down the sea wall only at this lower level, leaving the rest of Atlantis virtually untouched. I’ve also installed a timing device which should instigate a total shutdown of this generator after the explosions have done their work. I really don’t think the people of Atlantis are ready for nuclear power just vet; I doubt they could change a fuse without my help..