Doctor Who: Fury From the Deep (12 page)

'Wrong!' snapped Victoria tensely. 'After all that's happened in this... this terrible place!' She suddenly realised that the Doctor was showing concern for her. 'I'm sorry, Doctor,' she said guiltily. 'I'm perfectly all right - really. It's just that I... well, I wish I... oh, never mind.'

The Doctor watched Victoria with concern as she strolled off aimlessly along the corridor ahead of them. He was puzzled by the mood she was in. Even Jamie noticed Victoria's odd behaviour. He had never seen her quite like this before.

At the Control Cone, Harris was finishing off a video conversation with Megan Jones at Board Headquarters in London.

The woman on the central monitor screen was a redhead, in her late forties, and attractive in a hard sort of way.

'Thank you, Miss Jones,' said Harris, talking directly into the audio feed built into the monitor. 'We'll see you in three hours' time.'

The woman nodded without smiling, and the screen went blank.

Harris paused anxiously, then turned to van Lutyens. 'In three hours'

time the whole compound will be crawling with Board Officials.'

Van Lutyens shrugged his shoulders. 'Let's hope that by then the situation hasn't got any worse.'

The two men walked together towards the observation platform. As they went, their conversation was of particular interest to a couple of crewmen who were listening from a shadowy corner near the Compound Exit door. It was Mr Oak and Mr Quill.

'I only hope Megan Jones understands why I've taken over,'

said Harris. 'It was she who insisted that Robson should run this particular complex in the early days.'

The Dutchman gave Harris a comforting pat on the back. 'Stop worrying. You did what you have to do. You couldn't have let Robson go on ignoring the situation here. It would be criminal to take any more chances with the men out there on those rigs. Their safety is now the responsibility of someone far more superior than you.'

Harris and van Lutyens climbed the few steps up to the observation platform, and paused briefly to glance up at the pipeline tube.

'If only we knew what it is we're up against,' sighed Harris.

'These creatures that have been getting into the Refinery. Where do they come from?'

In the shadows nearby, Mr Oak and Mr Quill exchanged a satisfied smile.

'Even worse,' continued Harris, 'we don't know what the devil they actually are...'

'That's where you're wrong, Mr Harris!'

Everyone in the Flail turned. It was the Doctor's voice booming out from the other side of the Communications Area. Jamie and Victoria were with him.

'We
do
know what the creatures are.' The Doctor hurried across to Harris and van Lutyens at the observation platform. 'At least I
think
I know what they are. Seaweed!'

Van Lutyens was first to react. 'Seaweed?'

'A somewhat different species to what you'd normally expect to find on the beach.' The Doctor's head didn't move, but his eyes stared straight up at. Harris and van Lutyens on the platform. 'This particular type of weed happens to be dangerously alive.'

There was a stunned silence throughout the Hall. All eyes were turned towards the Doctor.

'Alive?' Harris's response was hardly more than a whisper. 'But how can...'

'I think you'd better listen to me,' warned the Doctor. He turned to address everyone in the Hall. 'All of you!' He paused, looked around the anxious faces, and continued. 'Large formations of seaweed are drifting onto the beach somewhere along this coastline.

Seaweed that shows clear signs of containing living organisms similar to that of a human being.'

There were murmurs of shock and disbelief all around.

'Did I hear you right?' called the Chief Engineer from the open door of the impeller area. 'You're saying it's this seaweed that's blocking the pipeline?'

'Yes I am!' the Doctor called back. 'In my opinion there's no doubt about it.'

'I knew it!' yelled the Dutchman excitedly. 'I knew it all the time! There is no time to lose. We must clear the base of the impeller shaft immediately... '

'No - wait!' The Doctor stopped van Lutyens from rushing off towards the impeller area. 'The weed is capable of protecting itself.'

'Protecting itself?' Harris was more confused than ever.

The Doctor started pacing up and down, half-talking to himself. 'As far as I can make out, the weed is some kind of a parasite that emits a toxic gas. It attaches itself to other living things...' He stopped pacing, and looked back at Harris and van Lutyens. 'And that, gentlemen, includes human beings.'

In the shadows nearby, Mr Oak and Mr Quill slipped out quietly through the Compound Exit door.

Harris was now on the verge of panic. He rushed down the platform steps, and went straight to the Doctor. 'Doctor. What happens to human beings when this parasite weed attaches itself?'

The Doctor's response was a solemn one. 'I'm afraid I don't know that yet, Mr Harris.'

'But my wife was stung by the seaweed.'

'Yes, but she appeared to survive. How is she now?'

'I asked the Medicare Matron to bring her in.' He turned to Price at the Control Cone and called, 'Get Medicare for me! Ask them what condition my wife is in!'

'Yes, sir!' Price turned back to the Control Console.

Harris walked with the Doctor to join Jamie and Victoria. He lowered his voice as he spoke. 'Doctor. I saw one of these creature things that your friend Victoria saw in the Oxygen Room.'

The Doctor swung Harris a startled look. 'You did? Where?'

'In Mr Robson's cabin. It might have attacked him - I don't know. But he was in a wild state when I went to see him. He just rushed out of the room like a madman, and hasn't been seen since.'

'Oh, dear...' The Doctor was disguising his worst fears.

'Mr Harris!' Price was calling from the Control Cone.

Harris called back. 'What is it?'

'Sir, Matron says she's sorry, but she hasn't brought your wife in yet. She's sending someone over to your quarters now.'

The Doctor turned suddenly in alarm and called to Price, 'What was that you said?'

'What is it, Doctor?' asked Harris, sensing the Doctor's anxiety.

'What's wrong?'

'Mr Harris, we've just come from your quarters. Your wife wasn't there.'

'Aye,' added Jamie breathlessly, 'and the place was crawling with that foam and seaweed stuff!'

Harris's face looked like white marble, and his lips turned blue.

'Is this true?' he asked the Doctor.

The Doctor frowned and replied gravely, 'I'm afraid so.'

'Then where is she? What's happened to her?'

Harris was now beside himself with fear and apprehension.

But the Doctor's response could only be a helpless shrug of the shoulders.

Van Lutyens came forward to try and offer some logical explanation to Harris for his wife's disappearance. 'Harris, I'm sure you'll find that - '

'Out of my way!' snapped Harris, as he pushed the Dutchman aside and rushed out of the Hall. Everyone watched him go in stunned, helpless silence.

'What
has
happened to Mrs Harris?' Van Lutyens asked the Doctor. 'Is it something to do with the seaweed creatures?'

The Doctor lowered his head, covered his eyes, and replied gravely, 'I don't know. I just don't know...'

The sky was clear now, and in the twilight the first star of night was already visible to the naked eye. The sunset had bequeathed a dark, crimson glow along the vast thin line of the horizon. The ripples on the waves were glistening like rubies, disguising the endless fronds of seaweed and foam that were drifting in on the evening tide. The afternoon thaw had dispersed most of the thin blanket of snow covering the surrounding hills, and on the beach the small pools of seawater were edged with the first signs of a hard frost.

The beach was totally deserted but for the solitary figure of a woman. She was nothing more than a silhouette against the fading twilight, standing by the water's edge, her gaze transfixed out to sea.

There were small formations of hair-like weed growing on her neck, face, and hands.

The woman was Maggie Harris.

As the ice-cold waves pounded onto the shoreline, and the foam and weed gathered into one vast mass, Maggie became aware that someone was approaching her from along the beach. She did not turn to look. It was as though she knew who or what to expect. The sound of footsteps crunching on shingles came to a halt right beside her. She did not turn to look. 'There is little time,' said Maggie. Her voice was eerily soft and controlled. 'You know what you must do.'

'Yes.' The voice that replied was that of a man.

'You will obey?' asked Maggie.

The man nodded without speaking. It was Robson. He looked tired, his face drained of all blood. Like Maggie, he was obviously under the 'control' of some unseen force.

Both were now staring out to sea. They were oblivious to the biting cold and icy spray from the tide that was lapping perilously close to their feet. Only one thought dominated their minds. It was the gradual approach of the thumping, heartbeat sound.

Maggie spoke again. 'It is time for me to go. You will stay.'

The thumping sound was becoming louder and louder, closer and closer.

Maggie did not speak again. She and Robson remained as still as marble, their lifeless eyes transfixed towards the open, darkening sea. Their mission now was to wait.

The thumping sound was reaching a crescendo. Then suddenly, as if commanded by a signal, Maggie started to move.

Slowly, methodically, she began to wade into the oncoming tide. The water was now seething with foam, and the mass of weed was wriggling with impatient anticipation.

Robson, under complete control now, stared impassively out to sea.

Maggie was wading deeper and deeper into the foam. Her eyes were transfixed mesmerically out to the wide expanse of ocean.

Soon, the foam was above her waist, then her shoulders. But still she did not, could not, stop.

It took only a few moments for Maggie to disappear beneath the surface of the water, which was engulfed by the deadly weed and foam. And as she went, the thumping, heartbeat sound became a squeal, a shriek of triumph, echoing across the beach and hills.

Robson remained quite still. For him, the night had only just begun.

8

'Rig D... Rig D... Control calling Rig D. Come in, please!'

There was a note of desperation in Price's voice as he tried to restore video contact with Rig D out at sea. But the central monitor screen at the Control Cone remained stubbornly blank. Price turned to van Lutyens and the Doctor, who were anxiously watching the screen.

'I'm sorry, sir. I can't raise them.'

The Dutchman rubbed his chin despondently. 'Try Rig A again.'

Price shook his head. 'I've been trying them ever since first light this morning, sir. That's three of the rigs not answering now.'

Van Lutyens was in a quandary. Robson had vanished, and Harris had rushed off in a panic to look for his wife. If someone in authority didn't soon take action, the morale of the men out on the remaining rigs was going to crack. He turned to Price again, who was waiting for further orders. 'Try the Guard Posts again. See if there is any sign of Mr Harris.'

'Yes, sir!' Price turned back to the Control Console.

Van Lutyens, deep in thought, moved off slowly towards the office Area. The Doctor walked with him.

'Three rigs now,' said the Dutchman gravely, 'with absolutely no contact with them whatsoever. Something's happened to them, I just know it.'

'Can't you send someone out to investigate?' suggested the Doctor.

'Unfortunately, I have no authority. I am here purely as a technical adviser. Harris is in charge now. When he comes back he must authorise the Company helicopter to go out and take a look at the rigs.'

As they reached the office Area, van Lutyens stopped and turned. He was looking up at the pipeline tube curling around the Communications Hall.

'Are you absolutely certain there's nothing we can do?' asked the Doctor.

'Nothing,' replied the Dutchman pessimistically. 'All we can do is to sit - and wait.'

In the Impeller Area, the Chief Engineer was also staring up at the pipeline tube. It was an abomination to him that the impeller -
his
impeller - was being silenced by forces beyond his control. The safe running of the Refinery impeller had preoccupied the Chief's life for so many years now. To many, he
was
the impeller. They called him the 'Chief' mainly because few even knew his real name.

The Chief's crewmen were just as despondent. They were lounging around aimlessly, some squatting on the floor, some standing with hands in pockets, others nodding off from sheer exhaustion.

The deadly silence was to be short-lived.

Everyone suddenly sprang into life and turned to look at the surface of the shaft. Their blood was chilled with terror. It was the sound again.
That
sound. Thumping. Pulsating. Somewhere down below, in the dark bowels of the impeller shaft...

Jamie and Victoria were back in the crew cabin they had first been taken to after their capture by the Refinery Security Guards.

Jamie was half asleep on the upper bunk, but Victoria was sitting on the edge of the lower bunk, deep in agonising thought.

Victoria sighed, and finally spoke. 'Jamie?'

There was no reply. In his dream, Jamie was playing his bagpipes on the banks of some windswept Highland loch. But his snores were not exactly musical.

'Jamie!' Victoria stood up and glared at Jamie. 'Are you asleep?'

Jamie's eyes sprang open, but they were glazed with sleep.

'Huh? Och no,' he groaned with a wide yawn, 'just resting ma eyes.'

'I don't know how you can just drop off like that with all this trouble going on.'

'Stop worrying will ye,' complained Jamie, his eyelids having great difficulty in remaining open. 'The Doctor's bound to come up with some sort of solution. He always does.' He curled up, and turned his back on her.