Doctor Who_ Tenth Planet Part 4

'Get on to Mount Palomar and ask them to provide us with a picture as soon as possible.' He turned to another colleague. 'Contact Jodrell Bank and ask them to get an exact fix on this "planet". We must have data-and quickly!'

He turned back to the radio-phone. 'Let me know the moment you have any more information, General.'

Wigner leant back for a moment and looked across at a large wall map on which red circles marked the various s.p.a.ce tracking stations. His grey eyes looked cold and thoughtful.

Cutler's voice came through again. 'One more thing, sir.'

Wigner, shaken out of his thoughts, leant forward impatiently. 'Yes?'

'We have three intruders.'

'Intruders? At the Pole? Where did they come from?'

'We haven't interrogated them yet-but one of them seems to know quite a bit about this new planet.'

'I don't understand. How can he possibly know?'

'We'll find out, Mr Secretary.'

'Do that immediately, relay at once any further information.'

In the tracking room, Cutler turned to face the Doctor and his companions.

'O.K. You heard the Secretary-General. Now suppose you tell me how you really got here.'

'Ah,' replied the Doctor, 'that will be rather difficult.'

'Not nearly as difficult as I can be. You'd better believe that, Doctor.' Cutler's powerful frame was looming over him, his large jaw jutting forward. 'Now listen. You turn up from nowhere. A routine s.p.a.ce shot goes wrong. A new planet appears. You tell us you know all about it. That puts you in the hot seat. Right?'

The Doctor looked puzzled. 'Hot seat?'

'On the carpet,' Ben whispered.

'We've got nothing to do with it,' complained Polly quickly.

'Can you prove it?'

'Well,' began the Doctor a little nervously, 'if you let us return to where we came from, you would not be troubled further-' The Doctor turned-and met the hard gaze of the Sergeant who was standing behind him. His fingers were tapping the strap of his machine gun, which was still slung loosely over his shoulder.

'You're not going anywhere, Doctor,' replied the General. As though remembering something, he turned back to the Sergeant. 'Have you searched that hut of theirs yet?'

'No, sir.'

'Why the devil not?' Cutler exploded. 'Send your men out there and get it done now-then we might get to the bottom of this!'

Outside, it was still snowing hard. Had the Sergeant and his men been out a moment sooner, they would have seen, dimly visible through the murk, a long black torpedo-like object coming into land just beyond the TARDIS...

As it landed, it gave out a high-pitched winnowing sound and a red light mounted on top flashed briefly. Over the roar of wind there was a faint bubbling radiophonic noise from the body of the object. Then all noise ceased, and the long, rocket-like object began to disappear beneath the driving snow.

The trap door opened with a splintering crack of ice and one by one, the parka clad figures of the Sergeant, t.i.to and a third soldier emerged from the warmth of the Base. t.i.to was carrying a small portable electric drill powered by a set of back batteries, and the other soldier, a crowbar. They looked around them: nothing but snow everywhere...

The Sergeant pointed in the direction of the TARDIS and, balancing themselves against the strong wind, they staggered across the snow towards it. They completely failed to see the long black object, which had nestled deep in the snow beyond the police box.

The three men ran their hands over the surface of the TARDIS. It seemed to be made of some sort of metal. The Sergeant tried to open the door, but found it locked. He banged it with his fist, heaved against it with his shoulder-but without success.

t.i.to now came forward with the drill, flicked the switch, and applied it to a point just above the lock. The Sergeant and the other men watched as a wisp of smoke began to rise from the drill point. t.i.to groaned and switched it off.

'What's up?' asked the Sergeant.

t.i.to held up the hand-drill : the end had fractured clean off. 'Dunno what the heck that metal is, Sarge, but it's too tough for this drill.'

The Sergeant nodded. 'Reckon we're going to need a welding torch to get inside this thing. Get back inside and bring me one out-and bring an extra helper. You'll need someone else to help.' t.i.to shambled off.

The crowbar proved equally useless.

The Sergeant began kicking the TARDIS in disgust, and beating his hands on his ribs to keep warm.

From behind the TARDIS, a strange radiophonic bubbling sound penetrated through the blizzard.

The two men stopped stamping and turned round. 'What's that! Hey, t.i.to, is that you?' The sound stopped.

The Sergeant looked at the other soldier, shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the TARDIS again. The soldier tapped him on the shoulder. 'Sarge.'

'Yeah,' mumbled the Sergeant, irritated. Every time he spoke he had to pull down his face mask, and he was acquiring a beard of white frost all around his mouth and nose.

'What is it?'

The man pointed beyond the TARDIS. The Sergeant looked. Three lights were moving towards them through the murk of the blizzard. Again the radiophonic bubbling sound, now slightly raised in pitch, drifted across the frozen waste.

'What's going on? Who the heck's that?' The Sergeant tried to rub the snow from the outside of his goggles to clear them-then realised that it was frozen condensation within. He whipped them off in disgust and, shielding his eyes, peered through the snow.

The three lights were slowly changing into three tall, straight figures which were moving forward across the ice with a slow, deliberate step, and the perfect unison of guardsmen on parade.

The Sergeant swung the gun from his shoulder, and challenged the three figures: 'O.K. Stay right there.'

But the tall figures, each one seemingly clad in a silver armoured suit, continued to move inexorably towards them.

'I warn you,' shouted the Sergeant, 'one more step and I'll open fire.'

The Sergeant gazed, horror-struck, as they came nearer and nearer. He made out their chests-which resembled concertina-like packs. For heads, they had helmets with side handles, a mounted light, circles for eyes and a slit for a mouth. Seen at closer quarters they were much more like robots than human beings!

Jerking up his machine gun, he aimed and pulled the trigger. The mouth of the gun spurted fire and a stream of bullets sprayed across the marching figures. To his horror the bullets seemed to have no affect whatsoever! Not for one moment did they stop their steady march towards the two frightened men. Finally, the gun jammed in the bitter cold, and the Sergeant swung it back to club down the nearest figure-who was now directly in front of him. Before he could do so, the leading figure raised an arm and swung it downwards in a terrible chop.

With a cry, the Sergeant staggered backwards and collapsed in the snow. His sightless eyes gazed up; his head-the neck completely shattered-lolled at a grotesque angle.

The other soldier, meanwhile, had been backing away, brandishing the crowbar in front of him like a quarterstaff. Suddenly, one of the robot figures reached forward and grasped the end of it.

After a brief tug-of-war, the robot, exerting his tremendous strength, swung his arm up, and lifted the man right off his feet, holding him suspended at arm's length. Quickly the soldier let go, but before he could scramble to his feet, the robot had swung the heavy bar effortlessly through the air and had brought it crashing down on the soldier's head, smashing helmet and skull like an eggsh.e.l.l. The man lay motionless in death; a red stain began to taint the snow.

Two minutes later, t.i.to and another soldier emerged from the trap door with the welding equipment.

Peering through the driving snow, they glimpsed two parka-clad figures standing by the TARDIS.

t.i.to called out to them : 'Hey, Sarge, this should do it, eh?' Neither figure turned.

'Sarge-' t.i.to's voice choked in his throat as the parka-clad figures by the TARDIS turned round, their hoods falling away to reveal the blank masks of Cybermen.

The soldiers, loaded down with the heavy welding equipment, didn't stand a chance. The two giant figures moved forward and dealt two more deadly blows.

For a moment, the leading Cyberman looked down at the two crumpled figures. He then gestured to one of his companion robots, who knelt down and began to divest the two dead men of their parka jackets and thick leggings...

5 The Cyberman Invasion

Inside the tracking room, General Cutler, cigar held loosely between his lips, feet on the console in front of him, was leaning back in his chair. The Doctor, who was standing beside him, had just finished telling his story.

'That's the most fantastic story I've ever heard. You can't expect us to believe that, Doctor.'

The Doctor looked a trifle huffy. 'I can only repeat what I have already said. We must expect visitors from that planet.'

Cutler shook his head. 'Not a chance. Anyway, we've more important things to think about right now.' He turned to Barclay. 'What's the position in the capsule, Tom?'

'They have full instructions, General. I'm just doing the final check.'

Cutler swung his legs off the desk and walked across to the radar technician.

'What's the range?'

'One thousand two hundred and fifty miles, sir.'

'How far are they off course?'

'Two hundred and thirty miles.'

'Then it's increasing.'

'Yes, I'm afraid it is, sir.'

Cutler walked back to the console, leant over the desk, and spoke into the mike.

'Attention Zeus Four Zeus Four. Snowcap Snowcap here. Don't worry, boys-everything's under control. We'll get you down double quick. You'll be having supper in Hawaii tonight with all those lovely girls!' here. Don't worry, boys-everything's under control. We'll get you down double quick. You'll be having supper in Hawaii tonight with all those lovely girls!'

'Get me Polar Base,' snapped Wigner, Tension was mounting at the International s.p.a.ce Centre. The communications console at the far end of the room-formerly empty-was now manned by I.S.C.

technicians. One of them turned to the Secretary General. 'We're having trouble there, sir.'

'Well keep trying.' Wigner turned in his chair, drummed his fingers on the desk, then leant forward and switched on the television monitor set in front of him. An announcer, familiar to millions of American homes, was standing beside a large globe of the Earth.

'Since it was first discovered at South Pole Rocket Base,' the commentator was saying, 'reports have been coming in from observatories over the world confirming its existence.' A piece of paper was slipped to him, which he seized, and then announced triumphantly, 'Here, straight from Mount Paloma Observatory is the first picture of our neighbour in s.p.a.ce.'

As Wigner watched, the camera moved in for a close-up of the new 'Tenth Planet'-as the news media were already calling it.

'Some observers have reported that its land ma.s.ses resemble those of Earth,' the commentator continued, 'but this is being hotly disputed in top astronomical circles, and no general agreement has yet been reached. Jodrell Bank, England, say that the planet is approaching Earth-but there is absolutely no cause for alarm. It won't come near enough to collide. I repeat-there is no danger.'

Wigner leant forward and switched off the monitor. He turned impatiently to the communications technician. 'What about Polar Base? Are you through?'

'No, sir, we can't get them.'

'What's happened?'

'There's some degree of interference.'

'What do you mean-interference? Who on earth would try to jam communications at a time like this?

The technician shook his head. 'I don't know, sir. It doesn't resemble any of the cla.s.sic jamming techniques used by...' he hesitated for a moment, '... other power blocks.

This is something quite different. It's enormously powerful and-it seems to be coming from the Snowcap Snowcap base itself!' base itself!'