Doctor Who and the Cave-Monsters (17 page)

‘You don’t
really
believe in this virus thing, do you?’ asked Masters.

‘Of course I do,’ said the Doctor. ‘Why do you think they released Major Barker?’

The Brigadier said, ‘He told us how he fought his way out of the reptile place. That was before you arrived.’

‘Whatever he told you, it isn’t true,’ said the Doctor. ‘Liz, we’ve got to get to that hospital. We must warn them of what’s happened.’

Liz got up to go.

‘Hold on, Doctor,’ said the Brigadier. ‘If you really think we’ve done the wrong thing, I’d better go with you.’

‘Thank you,’ said the Doctor, and turned again to Liz. ‘Then you stay here and try to get an electron microscope for me. Come on, Brigadier, we haven’t a moment to lose.’

The Doctor and the Brigadier hurried out.

‘May I use the ’phone?’ Liz asked.

‘Help yourself,’ said Dr Lawrence, despair in his voice. ‘I’ll see that our laboratory is made clear for you.’

Masters got up, a little unsteadily, Liz thought, and put his papers back into his black ministerial brief-case. ‘I’ll have to get back to London.’

‘I’ll see you to the lift,’ said Dr Lawrence. ‘Are you sure you’re fit to travel? You don’t look too well.’

‘All I need is a good night’s sleep,’ said Masters. ‘Nice to have met you, Miss Shaw. I hope we meet again sometime under more pleasant circumstances.’

Masters reached out to shake hands with Liz. Liz noticed how hot and clammy his hand was. Then she turned her attention to the telephone, to find someone who could quickly provide the Doctor with the special equipment he now needed.

The Brigadier kept his foot well down on the Jeep’s accelerator as it took a bend on the moorland road. Beside him the Doctor clung on to a grab-handle, his curly hair billowing in the slipstream.

‘Can’t you make this thing go faster?’ shouted the Doctor.

‘There is a seventy mile-an-hour speed limit,’ said the Brigadier, averting his eyes from a speedometer now registering 90 mph.

‘I knew we made a mistake not using Bessie,’ shouted the Doctor. ‘This thing’s got no go in it.’

‘I’m doing the best I can,’ shouted the Brigadier, as he overtook a farm-cart and narrowly missed an oncoming motorcyclist. ‘It’s no good if we get there dead.’

There was a long straight stretch of road ahead. The Brigadier kept his foot flat on the Jeep’s floor. The speedometer climbed to 105 mph. ‘That any better?’ he called.

‘I can’t hear,’ shouted the Doctor. ‘You’re going too fast.’

The long straight stretch ended in a twisting, narrow lane, and the Brigadier braked hard to avoid hitting a wall. With less windslip conversation was easier. ‘I can’t think what induced you to let Barker go to hospital,’ said the Doctor.

‘Look,’ said the Brigadier, ‘I only knew half of what had happened. It’s all very easy for you, Doctor, because you’ve been involved in it all. For us on the outside, it takes some believing. I’m still not convinced that that mark on Barker’s arm isn’t a rash of some sort.’

‘Then why are you driving so fast?’ asked the Doctor.

‘Because,’ said the Brigadier, ‘there are times when I trust your judgement. Satisfied?’

‘Yes,’ said the Doctor. ‘Fairly satisfied.’

The Brigadier gave the Doctor a sideways glance. Finally, he knew, you could always settle an argument by appealing to the Doctor’s vanity. It was a little human-like quality that the Doctor had, and was one of the reasons why the Brigadier liked him.

‘I think that must be it over there,’ said the Doctor, pointing to a small building in what seemed to be its own grounds. ‘Looks like a small hospital.’

The Brigadier raced the Jeep in the direction of the buildings. A private drive led off from the main road. At the side of the drive was a big sign reading:
‘ST MARY’S COTTAGE HOSPITAL’
. The Brigadier swung the Jeep into the drive. As they approached the main entrance of the hospital, swing doors suddenly flew open and Major Barker tumbled out on to the steps leading up to the entrance. A young doctor in a white coat and a nurse came through the doors after Major Barker, and the doctor tried to grab him. Major Barker got to his feet, knocked down the doctor, and stumbled down the steps. The nurse came after him.

‘You must let us help you,’ she called out.

The Brigadier stopped the Jeep and leapt to the ground to intercept Major Barker.

‘Don’t touch him,’the Doctor called. ‘Let him go.’

Major Barker stood facing the Brigadier. Barker’s face was now almost as red as the terrible mark on his arm. The young doctor had scrambled to his feet and came down the steps. ‘I’ll put you in a straitjacket if you carry on like that,’ he called out.

‘Major Barker,’ said the Brigadier very calmly, ‘you must go back into the hospital. You are ill. They want to help you.’

Barker swayed slightly, then put his hands to his throat and opened his mouth wide. ‘I can’t breathe,’ he screamed, ‘I’m being strangled.’ He suddenly dropped in a heap on the gravel driveway as though all the strength had gone out of him. The young doctor and nurse were too startled to do anything. The Brigadier stepped forward and knelt by Major Barker.

‘He’s dead,’the Brigadier said, then straightened up.

‘You can’t be sure,’ said the young doctor. ‘Nurse, get the porters. We’ll take him into Casualty immediately.’

‘It’s no good,’ said the Brigadier. ‘I may not be a doctor, but I know a dead man when I see one.’

‘I still intend to feel for a pulse,’ said the young doctor, and stepped forward to kneel by Major Barker.

‘Keep back!’ said the Brigadier.

The young doctor paused. ‘Who are you people?’

The Doctor said, ‘We came to warn you that that man is, or was, highly infectious.’

‘I think that’s something for me to decide,’ said the young doctor. He took another step forward to inspect Major Barker.

‘I told you to keep back!’ The Brigadier drew his service revolver from its holster. The nurse and the young doctor looked at the gun in astonishment. ‘Get back inside the hospital. If anyone leaves that building, I shall shoot to kill!’To underline his point, he thumbed back the gun’s cock.

The young doctor and the nurse slowly went back up the steps to the swing-doors. There were other people in the hallway, looking through the glass panels of the doors. ‘We shall telephone the police,’ said the young doctor. ‘We shall have you arrested!’

The Brigadier aimed his gun directly at the young doctor. ‘Get back or I fire!’

The young doctor looked at the gun, then turned and fled through the swing-doors. The nurse followed.

‘This place will have to be quarantined,’ said the Doctor. He looked down at Barker’s body. ‘Poor man. But he’s only the first.’

The Brigadier went back to the Jeep and picked up the R/T telephone. Within a moment he was speaking to Sergeant Hawkins at the research centre. ‘Sergeant, have we got any sign yet of getting any reinforcements?’

The Sergeant’s voice crackled over the ’phone. ‘Not to my knowledge, sir, not unless Mr Masters promised you some.’

The Brigadier put his hand over the mouthpiece and turned to the Doctor. ‘Any ideas, Doctor, how I get this place cordoned off with only six men, all of whom I need at the caves?’

‘Possibly,’ said the Doctor. ‘Let me have the ’phone.’ He took the instrument as he spoke. ‘This is the Doctor speaking, Sergeant Hawkins. Telephone the local Health Officer, whoever he is, and tell him that you are the registrar of St Mary’s Cottage Hospital, and that you have got an outbreak of bubonic plague. If he doesn’t know what you’re talking about, mention that it killed seventy-five million people in the Middle Ages.’

The Sergeant asked, ‘What if he asks me something technical, sir?’

‘Give a sort of strangled sound over the ’phone,’ said the Doctor, ‘and pretend you’ve got the plague yourself. Then ring off.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Hawkins.

‘You see,’ said the Doctor, handing back the ’phone to the Brigadier, ‘that’ll bring the whole of the Derbyshire police-force round here in no time. No one will be allowed in, and no one will be able to get out. Meantime, you hold the fort with that revolver.’

‘And what are you going to do?’ asked the Brigadier.

‘Try to develop the antidote,’ said the Doctor. ‘Good luck.’

The Doctor jumped into the driver’s seat of the Jeep, and drove away fast down the drive.

With Liz helping, the Doctor smeared some of the substance from the canister on to a rectangle of glass and put it under a microscope. At last the Doctor had managed to convince Dr Lawrence of the urgency of the situation, and the sick-bay laboratory had been made over to him to work in.

‘What’s it look like?’ said Liz.

The Doctor adjusted the focus of the microscope. ‘Nasty black blobs,’ he said.

Dr Meredith hurried in. ‘I’ve inoculated everyone in the Centre,’ he said, ‘but do you really think pumping antibiotics into people is any good against this stuff?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ said the Doctor. ‘But it can’t do any harm. Now what about my electron microscope?’

The Brigadier entered in time to hear the question. ‘It’ll be here in an hour, Doctor.’

The Doctor whirled round from the microscope. ‘What’s happened to that hospital?’

The Brigadier reported that the hospital had been entirely cordoned off by the Derbyshire police. ‘And another thing,’ he added, ‘the Army is sending me reinforcements at last. Within half-an-hour I’ll have every entrance to the caves guarded. How’s the vaccine going?’

The Doctor gave the Brigadier a scathing look. ‘I haven’t even analysed the virus yet,’ he said. ‘All these new soldiers coming along here,’ he went on, ‘every one of them must be inoculated immediately they arrive.’

‘I’ll see to that,’ said Dr Meredith.

‘Another thing,’ said the Doctor. ‘We must have the least possible contact between all the people concerned. The Brigadier’s reinforcements mustn’t mix with anyone from the Centre, and even within the research centre people from different departments must have as little contact as possible.’ He had a sudden thought. ‘That man Masters – he was at the meeting with Major Barker! How’s he travelling back to London?’

‘He mentioned catching a train,’ said Liz.

‘Brigadier,’ said the Doctor, ‘you must stop that train right away.’

But the Brigadier had already scooped up a ’phone and was speaking into it. ‘I don’t mind if you have to put a tank across the railway line,’ he was saying, ‘that train must not reach London!’

The guard on the train to London came along the corridor of the first-class compartments to inspect tickets. The train had just lurched to a stop, which puzzled him. He looked out of the window, but it was now dark outside and he could only just see the backs of some cottages. Then the train started again, going very slowly. He slid open the door of a compartment where the blinds were down.

‘Ticket, please, sir,’ he said.

There was only one person in the compartment. He looked up and said: ‘Pardon?’

The guard thought he knew the passenger’s face. Surely he had seen the man on television, or his pictures in the newspaper. ‘Your ticket, sir,’ he repeated.

‘Oh, yes.’The passenger fumbled for his ticket and produced it. His face was flushed, and he didn’t seem at all well.

As the guard clipped the ticket he asked, ‘Feeling all right, sir?’

‘A bit tired,’ said the man. ‘Why is the train going so slowly?’

‘No idea,’ said the guard. Then he heard the familiar sound of the train’s wheels bumping over points. He crossed to the compartment window, and looked out. ‘They’re putting us into a siding, sir,’ he said, bewildered by this. The train again lurched to a stop.

The passenger also looked out of the window. ‘Where are we?’

‘Somewhere near Peterborough, I think,’ said the guard.

‘I must get to London immediately!’The passenger suddenly stood up and reached for his brief-case. ‘Let me get by.’

‘We’re going to London,’ said the guard.

‘No, we’re not,’ said the passenger. ‘You just said it yourself, they’ve put us into a siding. Let me get by.’

The passenger pushed by the guard to get to the corridor.

‘You can’t leave the train, sir,’ called the guard. ‘It’s against the regulations. Only at recognised stations.’

But the passenger was already halfway down the corridor and was opening one of the doors. ‘I have an important meeting to attend. I must get to London by some other means.’

The guard wanted to follow the passenger, to stop him from getting down on to the line. But somehow he felt terribly tired. He felt his forehead and decided he was running a temperature. It was strictly against regulations, but he turned and went back into the compartment and slumped down into one of the comfortable first-class seats. His ticket-clippers slipped from his fingers on to the floor. Then he blacked out.

Morka sat on what had been Okdel’s special chair in the inner room. K’to entered.

‘You summoned me,’ said K’to.

‘I have just inspected the caves,’ said Morka. ‘There are humans present, with weapons. Why are they not all dead?’

‘Not all were killed instantly,’ said K’to, ‘even in our time.’