Doctor Who and the Auton Invasion (11 page)

Channing said: ‘They are programmed now to detect his brain-print and destroy him on sight.' He looked at the pattern on the screen. ‘He is still in the area. Soon they will find him.' As if at a silent command, the line of Autons jerked into life, and marched silently from the room.

Hibbert said: ‘You are sending all of them to hunt for Ransome?'

‘If they find Ransome they will kill him. But that is not their primary purpose. All of the energy units have been recovered or accounted for. All except one. But that one is the most important of all.' Channing swung round on Hibbert, his eyes burning with a fierce unearthly light. ‘Before the invasion can begin, we must find the swarm leader!'

Sam Seeley took a noisy swig from his mug of tea, and looked up defiantly at his wife. ‘How do you know it weren't an accident, then, eh? How do you know?'

Meg's voice was hushed with drama. ‘The soldiers found one of them things that came down in the woods. Poor lad was driving it back to London, on one of those little jeeps.'

‘So he had a crash,' said Sam. ‘Nothing in that. Road accidents happening all the time.'

Meg leaned forward. ‘His neck were broken, clean through. And his rifle were beside him, the barrel all twisted. They say there was a look of terrible fear on his face.'

Sam shivered. ‘Lots of gossip,' he said uneasily. ‘Old wives' tales.'

Meg took another sip of tea. ‘Maybe so. But I'm glad I never found one of those things.'

‘Lucky for anyone who did,' said Sam defiantly. ‘You see, they'll be offering a reward soon.'

‘Maybe,' said Meg. ‘And maybe you wouldn't live long enough to enjoy it.'

She finished her tea and stood up. ‘Well, I'm off down the shop.' She gave Sam a peck on the cheek, and put on her coat. Sam was staring into his tea mug, obviously a very worried man. As she came out of the front door, Meg smiled to herself. She knew well enough that her Sam was up to something. He'd been acting funny and mysterious ever since that night in the woods. Well, maybe she'd managed to scare some sense into him. Barney, Sam's old lurcher dog, was dozing in the front garden. He wagged his tail, but couldn't be bothered to get up.

Back in the cottage Sam stood up, undecided. Course, it was just a lot of silly gossip. Still, he couldn't keep that thing in the shed forever. Maybe it was time for a little chat with those soldier boys. Couldn't do any harm to sound them out. He might even drop one or two hints.

In the UNIT Command Tent, Captain Munro looked with concern at the terrified figure on the other side of the trestle table. Ransome's hands were shaking so much that he had to clasp the mug of strong army tea with both hands. His teeth chattered against the rim of the mug as he drank.

Munro said gently: ‘I'm sorry, sir, but the story isn't all that clear. You broke into the factory, and someone tried to kill you?'

Ransome made a mighty effort. ‘Not
someone. Something
. A creature. There were lots of them. They must be making them in the factory. No proper eyes… no hair… a lumpy face… it came after me.' Ransome began to shiver uncontrollably.

‘It's all right, you're safe now,' said Munro soothingly. ‘Now then, you say it had a gun?'

Ransome spluttered with the effort to explain the horror he had seen. ‘Not
had
a gun… the gun was part of it… its hand just fell away, hung there…' He looked at Munro wildly, as if begging him to understand and believe him.

Munro came to a decision. ‘Look, sir, all this is a bit above my head. I'd like you to tell this story to my Brigadier. He'll know how to handle things.'

Munro raised his voice. ‘Sergeant! I want this man taken to UNIT H.Q., right away.'

Liz Shaw and the Doctor were bent over the tray of meteorite fragments. The Doctor moved the scanning equipment gently across the surface. Liz said, ‘Are you getting a reading?'

The Doctor shook his head. ‘Nothing.'

‘Right, that's it, then,' said Liz in some disgust. ‘We've tried every test and, except that we
think
it's some kind of totally unknown plastic, we've got nowhere.'

The Doctor shrugged. ‘Well, we did our best. After all, with this primitive equipment they've given us…'

Liz gestured round the laboratory. ‘Primitive? Come on now, Doctor, that's not really fair. We've got lasers, spectographs, micron probes.'

The Doctor sniffed disparagingly. ‘What we really need is a lateral molecular rectifier. That'd give us the answer in
no time.'

‘And what on earth is a lateral molecular thingummy?'

‘Nothing on Earth, unfortunately. But I've got one in the TARDIS.'

‘You really do keep your scientific equipment in that old police box?'

The Doctor looked at her solemnly. ‘My dear young lady, you simply wouldn't believe what I keep in there.'

‘All right, then,' said Liz, ‘get the thing out. We've tried everything else.'

The Doctor looked crestfallen. ‘The trouble is the – er, box is still locked. And the Brigadier refuses to part with the key.' He looked at Liz hopefully. ‘You might be able to persuade him.'

In his office, the Brigadier was listening with mounting incredulity to Harry Ransome's story. Ransome was calmer now, more coherent. He went over the whole story from his first visit to America, to his final escape from the Auton. When he was finished Ransome sat back and took a deep breath. He looked at the Brigadier ruefully. ‘Don't believe a word of it, do you? Can't say I blame you.'

Embarrassed, the Brigadier fiddled with a little key on his desk blotter.

‘Now, I didn't say that, Mr Ransome. As a matter of fact we, at UNIT, are particularly interested in that part of the world.'

There was a tap on the door and the Brigadier looked up as Liz Shaw entered. ‘Excuse me,' she said with a glance at the visitor.

The Brigadier was irritated at the interruption. Time the girl learned some discipline. She was in UNIT now.

‘Not now, Miss Shaw.'

‘This is rather urgent. You see, the Doctor thinks—'

The Brigadier was outraged. ‘Miss Shaw, your work in the laboratory is only a small part of a very complex operation. Mr Ransome has come to me with a very interesting story, and I want to hear it without interruptions.'

Ignoring Liz, the Brigadier rose and pointed to a wall-map. ‘Now exactly where is this plastics factory of yours?'

Ransome peered at the map, and then said: ‘Just there.'

The Brigadier nodded. ‘Exactly. Close to the borders of Oxley Woods. Some very funny things have been happening there.'

The two men had turned their backs on Liz to study the map. She was left standing in the doorway, furious at her abrupt dismissal. Suddenly she saw the little key on the desk. Without a word, she snatched it up and swept from the room, slamming the door behind her with a crash that shook the room.

The Brigadier winced, then resumed his place behind the desk.

‘Now then, Mr Ransome, let's just run through the main points of this story of yours again.'

Liz stormed into the laboratory, and thrust the little key into the Doctor's hand. ‘Of all the pompous, overbearing idiots,' she said furiously, ‘that Brigadier takes the biscuit!'

The Doctor looked at the key in amazement. ‘He gave it to you – just like that?'

‘Not exactly. I took it.'

‘Oh dear,' said the Doctor. ‘I'm afraid he's going to be very cross with you.'

Taking the key from her hand, he looked at her with
a worried frown. He glanced from the tray of meteorite fragments to the TARDIS and then back at Liz. He seemed torn by indecision.

‘Hadn't you better get on with it?' said Liz.

The Doctor sighed. ‘Yes, I'm afraid I had. Thank you, my dear. Goodbye.'

The Doctor crossed to the TARDIS and slipped the key in the lock. The door opened and the Doctor stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

Liz looked at the closed door in amazement, waiting for the Doctor to emerge. Why had he said goodbye like that? Suddenly she heard a strange groaning and wheezing coming from the TARDIS. It was like the sound of some powerful but rather ancient engine creaking into life.

That sound reached the Brigadier in his office. He looked down at his desk, registered the absence of the key. To Ransome's astonishment he gave a bellow of rage and ran from the room.

The groaning and roaring was still going on as the Brigadier dashed into the laboratory. The TARDIS was shuddering and vibrating now. Liz had backed away from it and was watching in astonishment.

‘The key,' spluttered the Brigadier, raising his voice above the din. ‘You gave it to the Doctor?'

Liz nodded. ‘He said he kept some vital equipment in there.'

‘Equipment?' roared the Brigadier. ‘You little idiot! He's escaped! We shan't see him again.'

The roar of the TARDIS rose to a shattering crescendo. ‘There you are,' shouted the Brigadier. ‘He's going!'

Suddenly there was a loud bang from inside the
TARDIS. The groaning noise subsided, the TARDIS door flew open, and a cloud of smoke billowed out. In the middle of the smoke appeared the Doctor, coughing and choking. He waved his handkerchief to clear the smoke and then spotted the Brigadier and Liz. He gave them a rather sheepish smile, and closed the TARDIS door.

‘I was just testing, you know. Just testing.'

‘Doctor, you tricked me,' said Liz accusingly.

The Doctor sighed. ‘I'm afraid I did, my dear. Please forgive me. The temptation was very strong. You see, I suddenly couldn't bear the thought of being tied to one time-zone and one planet.' He turned to the Brigadier. ‘Sorry, old chap. I won't do it again.'

‘You certainly won't,' said the Brigadier grimly. ‘Give me that key, Doctor.'

‘Must I?' said the Doctor plaintively. ‘As you saw, the TARDIS isn't working any more.'

He looked so unhappy that the Brigadier couldn't help feeling sorry for him. He cleared his throat and said gruffly: ‘Well – if you give me your word not to try and escape again.'

The Doctor sank despondently onto a stool. ‘I couldn't escape now if I wanted to – not in the TARDIS. They've changed my dematerialisation code.'

‘Who's changed what?'

‘The Time Lords. Oh, the despicable, underhanded lot!' said the Doctor indignantly.

‘You can talk,' said Liz. She hadn't entirely forgiven the Doctor his trickery.

Hastily, the Doctor turned to the Brigadier. ‘Well now, about this little problem of yours. Miss Shaw and I have come to a dead end, I'm afraid.'

‘It's because we haven't got a lateral molecular rectifier, you see,' said Liz, with a look at the Doctor.

‘A what?' said the Brigadier. ‘I told you I can get you any equipment you need.'

‘Just a little joke,' said the Doctor hastily. ‘The thing is, we need something more to work on.'

‘I think I may be able to provide it for you,' said the Brigadier. ‘Will you both come to my office, please? There's someone I'd like you to talk to. We're all going to take a little trip down to Essex, to visit a plastics factory.'

Sam Seeley shuffled his feet uneasily, twisting his old cloth cap between his fingers. His gaze wandered all round the tent, trying to avoid the sceptical eyes of the young officer behind the table.

Munro said sharply: ‘Come on now, Mr Seeley, you're wasting my time. Have you got something to tell me, or haven't you?'

‘I'm only trying to help, like,' said Sam vaguely. ‘You see, I knows these woods, like, knows every rabbit-hole.'

‘Poacher, are you?'

‘Let's just say I'm self-employed.'

‘I'm still trying to work out why you came to see me.'

Sam groaned inwardly. This conversation wasn't going at all the way he'd imagined it. No one seemed at all interested in his subtle hints. All he was getting was a lot of uncomfortably direct questions.

He tried again. ‘See, if I knew a bit about what you was looking for…' Munro's voice was stern. ‘I'm afraid I can't tell you that, Mr Seeley. But I can tell you this. The objects we're searching for are extremely dangerous. One man has been killed already.'

Sam made a final try. ‘I reckon it'd be worth a fair bit of money – if anyone did happen to know where he could put his hand on one?'

Munro leaned forward. ‘It'd be worth quite a long spell in prison for someone withholding information, if someone did know where to find one, and didn't inform us. Of course, if that someone came forward like a public-spirited citizen – well, there might possibly be some question of a small reward. Some kind of finder's fee.'

Sam brightened immediately. Even a small reward was better than nothing. He pulled up one of the wooden chairs and sat down, leaning forward confidentially. ‘Well, it were like this, you see… I were checking me traps last night in Oxley Woods when all of a sudden…'

When Sam's wife returned from her shopping the little cottage was silent and empty. She wasn't particularly surprised. Her Sam was in the habit of appearing and disappearing as the fancy took him. She went out of the back door and called: ‘Sam, Sam, you out there!' There was no answer. On impulse she went down the garden and opened the shed door. No Sam. She was about to shut the door and go back to the house, when she saw the tin trunk under Sam's workbench. She remembered how oddly Sam had behaved before. On a sudden impulse, she pulled the trunk from beneath the bench and opened it.

This time it wasn't empty. Something round was in the bottom, wrapped in a sheet of her kitchen foil. She smiled in satisfaction and set about unwrapping it. With the kitchen foil removed, she saw a dull green globe, made of something heavy and smooth. It was about the size of a football. She popped it back inside and began to drag the trunk back to the house. Once she had the trunk in the cottage's tiny sitting-room, she opened it again. The globe began to glow softly. Then it started to pulse with light. The
pulsing increased in brightness and intensity until the globe was flashing rhythmically. Meg leaned forward, staring at it as if hypnotised.