Doctor Who: The Seeds of Doom (8 page)

On the main road a few hundred yards from the entrance to Chase’s estate a dark grey Rover three litre was parked surreptitiously under the trees, its lights doused. Inside sat Sir Colin Thackeray and Dunbar.

‘I don’t like it,’ said Sir Colin grimly. ‘I don’t like it at all.’ He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Dunbar remained silent. He seemed distracted, as if wrestling with something inside himself.

‘I’m going to call in the Doctor’s friends at UNIT,’ snapped Sir Colin finally. ‘This is getting too big for us.’

‘No, wait!’ interrupted Dunbar. ‘Let me go in alone.’

‘You’ll never get past the gate.’

‘Yes I will,’ replied Dunbar quietly.

‘What?’

‘I’ve made a terrible mistake, Sir Colin. It’s my duty now to try and save the situation.’

Before Sir Colin could stop him, Dunbar sprang out of the car. ‘Give me half an hour. If I’m not back by then, return to London and contact UNIT.’ He slammed the car door shut and hurried off into the darkness.

Sarah paused. The house was a rabbit-warren of corridors and passageways, any one of which could lead straight into the arms of the guards. Her progress so far had been slow and cautious.

Suddenly she heard a strange noise—a kind of grinding and thumping. It seemed to be coming from under the floor! She looked around. There was a small door at the far end of the passage. She opened it and found a flight of stone steps leading down to a lower level. The noise grew louder. She crept along this underground passage until she was directly beneath the spot where she had first heard the sound. A heavy metal door, not immediately visible, was recessed into the stone wall. The thumping noise came from inside.

Swiftly, Sarah heaved the door open. Straightaway her ears were split by a deafening blast of sound, as if huge strips of metal were being ripped apart and pounded into pieces. This thunderous screeching emanated from a mass of moving machinery at the far end of the room. Two enormous rollers were rising and falling in unison, slowly grinding together as they did so like a pair of giant molars. In front, a shiny aluminium conveyor belt was chugging inexorably towards this gaping maw. In it lay the Doctor!

Sarah flew across the room. ‘Doctor!’

‘Quick, Sarah, the switch!’ he yelled above the din. His head was only inches from the murderous whirling blades.

Desperately Sarah scanned the wall. There were several levers. She pulled one. The noise increased and the machinery began to accelerate.

‘The other one!’ cried the Doctor.

Sarah yanked a second lever. Nothing happened. The Doctor was flattened against the sides of the conveyor. The rollers reared up again and began to descend towards him. In a mad flurry Sarah pulled all the levers she could find. Suddenly the noise subsided, the rollers ceased their descent, and came to rest a hair’s breadth from the Doctor’s face. Sarah let out a sob of relief and ran to release him. The Doctor looked up and gave her a charming smile.

‘I believe that’s what’s known as a close shave,’ he said.

Pale and tense, Dunbar confronted Chase across the wide baronial hall.

‘Abandon the experiment? My dear Dunbar, nothing will stop me now. This is the most valuable study in plant biology ever made.’ The ghost of a smile flickered over his cat-like features.

Suddenly a distraught-looking Hargreaves rushed in.

‘What is it?’ snapped Chase, annoyed by this unusual interruption.

‘That thing in the cottage... it’s breaking loose!’ Chase’s jaw dropped. ‘It can’t be...’

‘The ropes, sir. They’re not going to hold it!’

‘You mean that monster could be roaming around?’ cut in Dunbar.

‘I’m afraid so, sir.’

Dunbar’s eyes widened in alarm at the thought.

All at once, there was a scuffle of footsteps and Scorby burst into the room. ‘The Doctor’s escaped!’

‘He seems to be making a habit of it!’ said Chase, his face contorting into a paroxysm of rage.

Dunbar took a pace forward and gripped the desk. ‘You’re mad, Chase! Raving mad!’ He was beginning to sweat.

‘There’s no need to panic, Dunbar.’

‘I’m going to get help. If this thing is free it could kill us all!’ He started to back towards the door.

Chase’s voice, icy cold, stabbed the air. ‘I would prefer it if nobody else was told of this, Dunbar.’

‘No. It’s all gone far enough. I’m getting out of here and no one’s going to stop me.’ Dunbar suddenly drew a gun and brandished it hysterically.

‘You won’t make it past the guards,’ said Chase coolly.

Dunbar reached the open doorway. ‘We’ll see.’

Scorby reached for his own gun but before he could use it Dunbar let off a shot. The men in the room ducked instinctively, giving Dunbar time to slam the door and belt off down the corridor.

While this was happening Sarah had swiftly and expertly guided the Doctor back to the cottage. Now, as they approached the low thatched building, Sarah started to tremble. The Doctor drew closer and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

They entered and climbed the stairs. Everything was ominously quiet. The Doctor carefully eased open the bedroom door and peered in.

The bed was empty. The ropes lay shattered, burst like string by a superhuman force.

‘Where’s it gone?’ whispered Sarah.

The Doctor gave her a grim look. There was only one place the Krynoid could be; lurking in the blackness outside, just as its predecessor had prowled the snowy wastes several days before.

There was no time to lose! The Doctor leapt down the rickety wooden steps, grabbed a rusty sword from above the fireplace and dashed out into the night with Sarah in tow.

Dunbar moved through the woods, pistol at the ready. The most he had gained was a minute’s start. Scorby and the guards, with machine guns and dogs, were already tracking him down. Escape through the main gate was impossible. He had to give them the slip in the woods and somehow make it over the wall.

As he struggled through the creepers and bushes Dunbar cursed his own weakness. Greed, that ancient vice of man, had ensnared him into a lurid web of murder and betrayal. Now, in this tangled wilderness, which plucked his clothes and tore at his skin, he was discovering the price of his folly.

The sounds of his pursuers grew nearer. Dunbar changed direction and plunged on through the jungle-like undergrowth. His breathing grew tighter and his limbs began to tire, but fear and the will to survive forced him on.

Then without warning he broke into a small clearing. He paused and listened. The hunt was falling be-hind. He gulped for air. Suddenly he became conscious of another, different sound—a low rasping hiss—like a pit full of rattle-snakes about to attack. In front of him the vegetation began to move. He backed away with a scream of fear. The Krynoid, now ten feet high and sprouting suckers and tentacles, detached itself from the surrounding bushes and advanced towards him. Panic-stricken, Dunbar pumped bullets into the towering mass of green, but they had no effect. It continued its relentless advance. Dunbar turned to run. As he did so he tripped in the dark over a hidden root and crashed to the ground. High above him the foul, hissing monster let out a blood-curdling screech and plunged downwards for the kill!

The Doctor and Sarah stopped in their tracks as several shots rang out. Then a ghastly scream filled the woods. The sound came from no more than a hundred yards away and the Doctor immediately set off towards it, tearing through the undergrowth at breakneck speed. Sarah stumbled after him.

Within a matter of seconds they were in the clearing. In the pale moonlight the Doctor made out a human body, barely recognisable, lying on the ground. Hovering above it, in full view, was the Krynoid.

The Doctor gripped his sword more tightly as the monster rose from its victim with a terrifying hiss and turned to face him.

‘Doctor!’ screamed Sarah as she rushed to his side. He quickly pushed her behind him for safety. Then the Krynoid let out a triumphant roar and started towards them.

It had advanced half way across the clearing when machine-gun fire suddenly broke out all around. The Doctor and Sarah threw themselves to the ground. The Krynoid faltered as bullets tore into its fleshy green exterior.

‘Run to the cottage!’ yelled the Doctor, and he and Sarah scrambled to their feet and dashed off.

Hearing the Doctor’s command, Scorby ordered his men to follow, but one luckless guard was dragged off balance by a powerful snaking tentacle. With a scream he disappeared into the centre of the writhing, fibrous mass.

‘Block the window!’ ordered the Doctor as the others tumbled into the cottage. Two of the guards dragged a table across the room while the Doctor barricaded the door with heavy furniture.

‘How do you do it, Doctor?’ leered Scorby. ‘You should be compost by now.’

‘We’ll all be compost if we don’t keep away from that Krynoid.’

‘Krynoid?’ repeated Scorby in puzzlement. ‘Is that what that thing is?’

Sarah turned to face him for the first time. ‘Yes. And it used to be called Keeler,’ she said bitterly. ‘Remember your friend? Now do you see what we’re up against?’

The colour drained from Scorby’s cheeks. ‘That’s... Keeler?’ he stuttered in disbelief.

Sarah nodded.

At that moment Scorby’s walkie-talkie started to bleep. ‘Yeah?’ he said, still sounding shaken.

‘Scorby, what was all that firing?’ The sharp, distorted voice of his master crackled through the room.

‘It’s the Krynoid, Mr Chase, it’s got us trapped in the cottage.’

‘You idiots! Listen to me—whatever happens it must not be harmed. Is that clear?’

Scorby gave the Doctor a hopeless glance. ‘But you don’t understand. It’s ten feet high and it’s already killed Dunbar.’

‘I don’t care who it kills,’ screamed the voice hysterically, ‘People are replaceable, the Krynoid is unique. It must not be damaged in any way. That is an order!’

The Doctor grabbed the walkie-talkie. ‘Chase, try to understand one thing.’ He spoke firmly and with authority. ‘The Krynoid is an uncontrollable carnivore and it’s getting bigger and more powerful by the minute...’ The receiver went dead. ‘... Chase!... Chase! ...’ The Doctor thrust it angrily back to Scorby. ‘Arrogant fool!’

He strode to the window and peered out. He could see nothing, but the sinister alien rattle was clearly audible to everyone in the room.

‘Just how big is this Krynoid thing going to get?’ said Scorby, panic creeping into his voice.

‘Oh, about the size of St Paul’s cathedral,’ replied the Doctor cheerfully. ‘Then it will reproduce itself a thousandfold and eventually dominate your entire planet.’

Scorby’s jaw dropped open and for once he was speechless.

The Doctor had moved away from the window during this exchange but now whirled round at the sound of splintering glass. The table blocking the window was hurled aside and a long green tentacle, about the diameter of a man’s leg, snaked into the room. Pandemonium ensued as one of the guards started firing blindly. The tentacle thrashed from side to side knocking people and furniture in all directions. Then, catching hold of Sarah by the waist, it dragged her screaming towards the open window. Reacting quickly, the Doctor snatched up the sword and plunged it deep into the green proturberance. Its grip on Sarah slackened momentarily and the Doctor pulled her free. Then, as suddenly as it had entered, the tentacle withdrew.

‘It can’t get into the cottage,’ explained the Doctor, gasping from his exertions, ‘not for the moment at least. It’s grown too big.’

He peered out again through the smashed window. The low, menacing rattle could still be heard. Everyone in the room was trembling from the shock of the attack, and looking to the Doctor for the next move. Cupping his hands round his mouth he leant out into the darkness and called, ‘Stalemate for the present, Keeler. Can you hear me? Stalemate.’

There was a deathly hush and then the air was filled with a strange, hollow, rusty voice. ‘The human... was... Keeler... now of us... now belongs...’

The Doctor glanced at the anxious faces behind him in the room. ‘I see. What do you want?’

‘You, Doctor... You are... important...’

‘How kind. Thank you.’

‘You have alien knowledge... You must be the first...’

Sarah took hold of the Doctor’s arm. ‘The first?’

‘I think it means I’ve been singled out for special attention, Sarah.’

‘Scorby!’ called the booming voice, like a giant tannoy system surrounding the cottage, ‘... Give the Doctor to us... your lives will then be spared.’

Scorby raised his machine gun. ‘Sounds a fair deal to me, Doctor. How about it?’ He took a threatening pace forward.

The Doctor stood his ground. ‘If you kill me, Scorby, you’re finished. Nobody else has any idea how to fight that creature.’

‘I haven’t heard any ideas from you so far,’ snarled Scorby. His machine gun was still pointing at the Doctor’s chest.

‘Unless the Doctor gives himself up... you will all perish... You have two minutes...’

All eyes in the room were trained on the Doctor. Sarah began to feel a prickly heat climb the back of her neck.

‘Well?’ Scorby slipped the safety catch.

‘Fire!’ said the Doctor abruptly. ‘Fire is the only thing that might affect it.’ He started to hunt among the debris, ignoring the gun still trained on his back.

‘There’s nothing here,’ growled Scorby suspiciously.

‘Oh yes, there is,’ said the Doctor triumphantly, ‘a spirit stove.’ He blew the dust off it and unscrewed the top. ‘You’re going to make us a Molotov cocktail, Scorby, and lob it from the upstairs window when I give the word. This will distract the Krynoid long enough for me to slip out. Then with a bit of luck the Krynoid will follow me and the rest of you will retreat to the safety of the main house. Quite simple, really.’ He beamed a smile round the room.