Doctor Who and the Cave-Monsters (8 page)

He could have smashed the window and used his third eye to destroy the creatures there and then, but Okdel had insisted that the attack must not start yet. He moved away from the window and crossed the farmyard to a barn. He was already weak again through loss of blood and all he wanted to do was to lie down and rest. In time the others would find him and take him back to the shelter where K’to could repair his injuries. Inside the barn he found long grass which had been cut and gone brown. It made a good bed. He curled up in the traditional sleeping position of his people, and was soon unconscious.

Morka was woken up by a terrible shouting. The male creature was standing in the middle of the barn.

‘Doris!’ it shouted, ‘Doris!’

He seemed too excited or terrified to move from the spot. The female creature came running in. Morka could just see her through the straw where he lay. Through the open door he could see that it was barely light outside and there was a thin white mist.

‘What is it?’ she said.

‘Get on to the police,’ said the male creature. ‘There’s some sort of lizard asleep in my barn.’

‘A lizard won’t hurt you,’ she said.

‘It’s the size of a man,’ said the male. ‘In fact, bigger than most men. It must have escaped from some circus.’

Morka’s temper was raised. Who did these animals think they were to speak of him like that? He rose up from the straw. The female saw him and screamed. The male spun round to look.

‘In God’s name,’ said the male, ‘a monster!’

The male grabbed some farm implement with a pronged end, and immediately lunged at Morka. Morka side-stepped the vicious-looking prongs, grabbed the male creature and broke its neck instantly and painlessly. The woman just stood there, eyes wide, screaming. But she made no attempt to harm Morka, although her screams hurt his hearing.

‘Be quiet,’ he said. ‘You must be quiet in our presence.’

But she continued to scream, and water began to run from her eyes down her pink cheeks. Morka remembered how the ancestors of these creatures always used to make so much noise, especially if you hurt them or if they saw one of their own kind killed. The female creature stood there screaming, hands to face now, its whole body shaking. Morka wondered if it had contracted some disease, and whether out of kindness he should break its neck, too. But his leg hurt and he wanted to sleep. Only then did he notice the hatch open in the floor of the barn. He limped over to inspect it. Steps led down into some darker place below. Perhaps that is why the male creature had come in here – to open that hatch and get something from the area below. Carefully Morka went down the steps, closing the hatch after him to cut out the awful noise of that female creature. Concentrating through his third eye, he looked around himself. It was a small room with wooden racks along one side. He inspected the racks, and found apples. This was good because he liked apples very much. He tasted one, and immediately felt better. Even if the sun was not so hot, and the air was thinner now, apples tasted just the same. He ate a great many apples, then curled up again into the traditional sleeping position and dreamt vividly of his childhood. He had always been good at hunting and as a boy had run with the men hunters when they went into the forests to attack the little furry apes. Some of the boys had kept a few apes in cages, and tried to tame them, but Morka always felt nauseated at their sight and smell. He had killed many thousands of them. Now, perhaps, he would have to kill millions of their wretched, noisy descendants. If they were all like that screaming female creature he had just met, it would be a pleasure!

He was awoken by the sound of feet on the floor of the barn above. The apples had done him good and he had more strength now. There were a lot of creatures above him, probably searching for him with those sticks that explode and make pain. Cautiously he uncoiled and went up the ladder step by step. He put the top of his head against the hatch and pushed gently upwards until there was a thin slit of light. He adjusted his eyes and looked into the barn. Although the faces of the creatures all looked the same to him, helpfully they all wore different clothes. There was a male creature in a long black frock coat, and he was kneeling by the body of the creature whom Morka had killed. Standing close was a female creature with blonde fur on her head – long fur that hung to her shoulders. There were two other males of the species: one in brown clothes, which had fur growing under its nose, and the other in dark-blue clothes with silver buttons.

‘His neck’s broken,’ said the Frock Coat.

The creature with silver buttons tried to stop the Frock Coat from touching the dead creature. ‘You really shouldn’t touch anything, sir,’ it said, ‘until the CID has been.’

‘This isn’t a matter for Criminal Investigation, Constable,’ said the Frock Coat. ‘This isn’t ordinary murder at all.’

‘At least,’ said the one with fur under its nose, ‘the monster cannot be far away. I’ve got a helicopter up searching these moors. We’ll track it down and kill it in no time.’

Another creature dressed in brown came running in. It stopped running and stood very upright, and put its hand to its head. Morka thought it was going to scratch its head, because the little furry apes were always scratching themselves to kill the fleas in their fur. But this action was some kind of signal. The one with the fur under its nose turned and also put its hand to its head.

‘Sir,’ said the newcomer, ‘we’ve just heard over the radio. The lady found here has come round and is able to talk.’

‘Come on, Doctor,’ said Fur Under Nose, ‘we’d better get to the hospital.’

‘One other thing, sir,’ said the newcomer, still standing bolt upright. ‘They say she’s drawing pictures on the wall.’

Fur Under Nose and Frock Coat looked at each other, but Morka could not understand the expressions on their faces. Frock Coat turned to the female creature, indicating a black box on the floor. ‘I’ll go to the hospital. You’ll find everything you need in there for a forensic check.’

Silver Buttons looked very worried. ‘Forensics is for the CID,’ it said.

Frock Coat turned to Silver Buttons: ‘Fingerprints, and ordinary human bloodstains – yes, I would agree. But Miss Shaw and I are looking for reptilian-like monsters.’ It turned to Fur Under Nose. ‘I’m ready.’

Frock Coat and Fur Under Nose hurried out, along with the creature that had stood upright all the time. Silver Buttons turned to the female creature. ‘Anything I can do for you, miss?’ it said.

‘That’s very kind of you,’ said the female. ‘But I can manage.’

Silver Buttons turned to go, then paused. ‘That fellow you call the Doctor,’ it said. ‘Is he all right in the head?’

‘He’s very all right in the head,’ said the female.

‘I’ll be wandering around if you need me,’ said Silver Buttons, and slowly walked out of the barn.

Morka considered what he must now do. He cursed himself for not killing that screaming female when he had the chance. Now the other creatures would hear from that female how he had gone down into the cellar beneath the barn. They would all come back with their exploding sticks and hurt him again, perhaps even kill him. With those apples in him, he felt that he now had the strength to walk the moors and find his way back into the caves. It would be better if he could wait until dark, but that was now impossible. He looked at the crouched back of the female creature as it opened the black box. It took out some instruments, then went to where he had been lying in the straw. It knelt down, again with its back to him.

Slowly, soundlessly, Morka opened the hatch and climbed up the steps and on to the floor of the barn. The creature was so intent on its work that it did not seem to hear him. Then his foot scraped on the floor. The creature started to turn its head. Morka knew it would start that terrible screaming. He attacked swiftly.

Dr Quinn stopped his car and hurried into his cottage. As soon as he was in the living-room he pulled from his pocket the extraordinary object given to him by Okdel. He touched the controls just as Okdel had shown him, and the device gave off this strange fluting sound. He almost hugged the thing to himself – it was the most important artifact Man had ever known, and it belonged to him, Dr Matthew Quinn. Then he started to hunt through his bookshelves for maps of Wenley Moor. He knew that he had to keep his head and carry out the rescue mission with a methodical search of the countryside. Just in time, he heard the sound of footsteps in the hall and was able to pocket the signalling device. Miss Dawson entered.

‘I hope you don’t mind,’ she said. ‘Your front door wasn’t locked.’

‘Do come in, Phyllis,’ he said, relieved it was no one else. ‘Would you like some sherry or something?’

‘You know I don’t drink,’ she said. ‘I wondered if you were all right?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Fine. Why?’

She looked around noticing the maps. ‘Planning a hike over the moors?’

‘Possibly,’ he said, wishing she would go away. ‘Won’t you sit down?’

‘I was wondering when you’d ask me to,’ she said, and sat in her favourite chair. ‘Dr Lawrence has been asking where you are.’

Dr Quinn thought for some moments before replying. Then he realised he just had to tell someone his news. ‘I’ve been visiting my friends,’ he said, and noticed how Miss Dawson frowned when he said it. ‘Look, they gave me this.’ He pulled the flat object from his coat pocket, and offered it to Miss Dawson. She only stared at it, and didn’t take it.

‘What is it?’

‘The product of another civilisation,’ said Dr Quinn. ‘It’s a communication device. That fool Major Barker wounded one of them, and they think it ran away from the caves. They want me to help to find it.’

‘You won’t be the only one looking,’ she said very seriously. ‘There are soldiers out on the moors now, and they’ve got a helicopter up. If you go out to find this creature, the soldiers are likely to find you, too.’

Dr Quinn did his best to smile, although inside he was quaking. ‘I have every right to go walking on the moors if I want to. We could go together. It would look more innocent.’

Miss Dawson rose. ‘I don’t think that what you are doing is innocent, Matthew,’ she said, ‘but let’s not discuss that. I just wanted to know that you were all right, and to warn you that Dr Lawrence is on the warpath.’

‘To hell with Dr Lawrence!’ he said, immediately regretting it.

Miss Dawson touched his arm. ‘I know how you must feel, Matthew,’ and there was some tenderness in her voice. ‘Your father was a world-famous scientist and overshadowed you. Now you are once again playing second fiddle, as assistant to Dr Lawrence.’

‘I am not an ambitious man,’ he said, knowing it was a lie. ‘I only want to push forward the frontiers of science, to do
something
in my life so that people might remember me.’

‘I understand,’ she said. ‘I must get back to the Centre. By the way, there’s been some trouble over at Squire’s Farm.’

‘What kind of trouble?’

‘Everybody’s being very secretive about it,’ she said. ‘So perhaps that is where you ought to start looking for your scaly friend. ’Bye.’ She left.

Dr Quinn quickly looked at his maps and found one of sufficiently large scale to include Squire’s Farm. He hurried out of the house, got in his car, and drove as fast as he dared towards the farm. Even from a mile off he could see that something had happened. Parked by the farmstead was an ambulance, two or three police-cars with blue lights flashing, and a couple of UNIT Jeeps. Still, all this gave him a good excuse to stop by. He drove up the farm lane from the road, and parked on the grass verge. Then he wandered in among the public service vehicles. There were police officers and UNIT soldiers standing around, but the situation was still so new and so confused that no one stopped to ask his business. They probably thought he was a senior police detective who had just arrived on the scene. He went up to a soldier and said, ‘Where is it?’ He had no idea what ‘it’ referred to, but it seemed the right thing to say. The soldier pointed towards one of the barns at the back and said, ‘Over there, sir. In the barn.’ Dr Quinn thanked the soldier, and strode across the muddy farmyard to a large barn with open doors. Inside the Doctor was kneeling over an unconscious Liz Shaw, while the Brigadier and some UNIT soldiers were pointing guns down into an open hatch in the barn’s floor. After a moment Sergeant Hawkins came up through the hatch with a big torch.

‘Nothing down there, sir,’ said Sergeant Hawkins, ‘except a lot of apple cores.’

Dr Quinn now moved forward, and addressed the Brigadier. ‘I was just passing and saw all the vehicles outside. What’s going on?’

‘There’s been one of the cave creatures here,’ said the Brigadier, showing little interest in Dr Quinn but instead crossing over to where the Doctor was knelt by the prostrate Liz Shaw. ‘How is she?’ he asked.

‘Coming round,’ said the Doctor.’ But she’s had a nasty blow across the back of her head.’

‘I still don’t understand what happened?’ said Dr Quinn.

The Doctor turned and looked up at him. ‘Some creature killed the farmer, hid in the cellar, and then knocked out Miss Shaw.’

‘Good gracious,’ said Dr Quinn, doing his best to be surprised. He turned to the Brigadier. ‘You’ve killed it, of course?’

‘Unfortunately, no,’ said the Brigadier. ‘We thought it might be lurking in the cellar, but it’s gone.’ The Brigadier, again uninterested in Dr Quinn, turned to his soldiers and gave orders. ‘I want the whole area searched – outbuildings, the fields, everywhere.’

Sergeant Hawkins sprang to attention. ‘Yes, sir!’

Hawkins and the other soldiers hurried out of the barn.

‘Anything I can do?’ asked Quinn, wishing now to get away but having to pretend to show interest.

‘Not really,’ said the Brigadier, ‘but jolly good of you to offer.’

The Doctor raised a hand for silence. ‘Shhhh!’

They all looked down at Liz. Slowly she opened her eyes, looked at the Doctor and smiled. ‘Am I still alive?’

‘Very much so,’ said the Doctor. ‘Pulse and heartbeat normal. Can you remember anything?’

‘It was a sort of lizard,’ she said uncertainly. ‘Three eyes. Standing upright. Something wrong with its leg.’