Doctor Who: The Seeds of Doom (9 page)

Scorby looked unimpressed. ‘It had better work, Doctor.’ He began to empty the paraffin from the stove into an old milk bottle.

‘Where are you going, Doctor?’ whispered Sarah anxiously.

‘Out—if I’m lucky. The worst part will be trying to convince some flat-headed Army type that the world is being threatened by an overgrown mangel-wurzel.’ He turned away from the others in the room and lowered his voice. ‘I’ll have to risk leaving you behind, Sarah.’

Sarah nodded. It was more important now for the Doctor to organise a proper resistance to the Krynoid while there was still a chance of stopping it.

Scorby finished the makeshift incendiary bomb and climbed the stairs. The Doctor cleared the furniture from behind the main door and eased it open a fraction. The hoarse rattling of the Krynoid was drawing closer.

‘Right,
now
!’ yelled the Doctor and, yanking the door open, he hurtled out. Simultaneously there was a loud explosion and a sheet of flame lit up the interior of the cottage.

Running hard, the Doctor headed away from the cottage and into the dense black jungle. Behind him the Krynoid let out a bellow of pain and turned in pursuit. It was now at least twenty feet tall and, although possessing no limbs as such, its speed over the ground was astonishing. It slithered and glided through the trees like an advancing avalanche, smashing all before it.

As he plunged through the creepers the Doctor hoped his sense of direction had not deserted him. He was banking on finding the limousine which he and Sarah had abandoned many hours earlier.

Suddenly he was clear of the woods and standing on a gravel drive. With a gasp of relief he caught sight of the car still parked where he had left it. He bounded towards it and jumped into the driving seat. He could hear the trees crashing and toppling behind him and, above that, the angry roar of the Krynoid itself. Frantically he turned the key in the ignition. It wouldn’t catch. Just as the roaring and hissing seemed almost on top of him the engine spluttered into life. Wrestling with the steering wheel, the Doctor spun the large car round and accelerated away.

As he did so, he caught the Krynoid in the full glare of the headlights. Its massive green trunk throbbed and pulsated, and the long clawing tentacles waved wildly in the air. In the split second it was discernible, this repulsive vision of unearthly terror burned itself into the Doctor’s mind, never to be forgotten.

Then it was gone, and he was speeding through the cold black night in a race against time.

As the Doctor made his dash for freedom, Sarah and the others slipped quickly from the cottage towards the safety of the main house. Once inside, Scorby posted guards and lookouts and led Sarah to the Laboratory. The room was deserted except for Hargreaves, looking slightly bewildered.

‘Where’s Mr Chase?’

‘He went out. To try and get some photos, sir.’

Sarah registered surprise but Scorby, who was used to his master’s bizarre ways, seemed unperturbed.

‘All right, Hargreaves,’ he nodded. ‘Now listen... get some timber from the workshop. We’ve got to barricade all these ground-floor windows. Understand?’

‘If you say so, sir.’ The butler departed on his errand.

Sarah glanced uneasily towards the window. ‘He must have got away.’ She tried to sound hopeful.

Scorby scowled darkly. ‘He’s no fool, your friend. He got out and we’re still trapped.’

Stung by this remark, Sarah sprang to the Doctor’s defence. ‘He’s only gone to get help. Somebody had to do it.’

‘Sure,’ came the sarcastic reply.

Sarah looked away. She felt very unsafe with this repressed psychopath. Better to keep quiet and avoid provocation. She sank into a chair and began the long wait for the Doctor’s return.

Outside in the grounds Chase was moving cautiously through the undergrowth. He was still wearing an immaculate pinstripe suit, and round his neck hung an expensive-looking camera.

To the ordinary observer he might have appeared crankish, almost comical, but to those few who knew him his madness was not a ridiculous aberration but a deadly, all-consuming passion—a love of plant life above all other life forms, including human. Chase was physically repelled by people. He reduced contact with them to the bare minimum; hence the black gloves to avoid touching them, and the elaborate safety precautions surrounding the house to stop them getting in. Apart from his immediate entourage he was a recluse, known only by name to the outside world. But within the high walls of his own domain Chase had created a different world—a luxuriant, peaceful world of green—a world in which, for moments at least, he could pretend to shed his human guise and commune with his beloved plants.

It was such communion he now sought with the Krynoid, this strange and wonderful intruder from another planet. He, Chase, would divine its true intent and impart this knowledge to the rest of mankind.

He pressed on gently through the foliage. Suddenly there it stood, a towering fibrous mass of green, swaying slowly from side to side in the moonlight. As Chase approached, it seemed to sense his presence, and from beneath the wrinkled folds of its bark-like skin a glistening tendril snaked out towards him, menacingly.

‘No! No! Not me,’ cried Chase. ‘I want to help. I want to help.’

The tendril wrapped itself around Chase and, lifting him bodily into the air, drew him in towards the cavernous folds of skin. Prodding suckers explored his body and face and he began to feel strangely drowsy. Then, just as he was on the point of suffocation, Chase found himself deposited once more on the wet grass. He lay there several minutes, gasping for breath. When he recovered the Krynoid had gone. He looked round, a weird unnatural glint in his eyes.

‘Yes, yes,’ he whispered. ‘The plants must win. It will be a new world... silent and beautiful.’

He rose to his feet and like a sleepwalker moved slowly away in the direction of the house.

It was just dawn when the Doctor brought the large limousine to a screeching halt outside the World Ecology Bureau. He leapt out and ran up the steps into the tall building. Behind, a posse of wailing police sirens indicated that his mad dash had not gone un-noticed.

Sir Colin was arguing with a spruce-looking Army Major when the Doctor burst in upon them like a whirlwind.

‘Doctor!’ gasped Sir Colin, completely taken aback. ‘Where’s the Brigadier?’

‘Geneva,’ answered the Major. ‘I’m deputising. Major Beresford.’ He bowed stiffly.

‘What’s going on down there, Doctor?’ asked Sir Colin, gathering his wits.

‘Revolution is going on. The Krynoid is growing larger and more powerful by the minute. What’s more, if my guess is correct, all the rest of the vegetation on this planet will shortly turn hostile as well.’

A secretary entered and handed Sir Colin a piece of paper. As he read it he turned pale.

‘This seems to confirm your theory, Doctor.’ He read aloud. ‘A gardener, an agricultural worker and a young woman have all been found strangled by plants within a mile of Chase’s estate.’ He looked up in dismay.

‘The Krynoid is controlling them,’ said the Doctor, his expression darkening.

The Major shook his head. ‘I don’t believe it.’

‘I suggest you start believing it, Major,’ snapped the Doctor. ‘We’re wasting time. I want you to organise flame-throwers, anti-tank guns and as many men as you can muster. Now!’

The Major jumped into action as if bitten by a dog.

‘I’m going back straightaway—and I need some agricultural spray defoliant. I’ll give you two minutes, Sir Colin. Get it down to the car.’

Sir Colin’s office immediately became a hive of activity as the Doctor’s orders were put into effect. Meanwhile, the Doctor picked up a phone and dialled a number he had memorised.

The phone rang loudly in the Laboratory, startling Sarah who had been sitting alone. Gingerly she picked up the receiver.

‘Doctor!’ Her face lit up. ‘How did you... ?’

Interrupting her, he quickly explained what was happening. Sarah nodded, making mental notes as the Doctor issued instructions. Then suddenly they were cut off.

‘Hello? Hello? Doctor?’ Sarah jiggled the receiver up and down but the line seemed quite dead, as if the wires had been suddenly ripped out by someone. Or something. Behind her a pane of glass cracked like a pistol shot. She spun round, dropping the phone in alarm. The window, which five minutes earlier had been clear, was now obscured by a mass of creepers. As she looked, the glass broke and the creepers inched their way into the room.

‘What’s happening?’ cried Scorby from the doorway. He threw down a pile of timber.

‘It must be the Krynoid. It’s controlling the creepers! ‘

Another pane burst.

‘Quick, help me board the windows,’ shouted Scorby, and he began nailing the planks across.

As the two of them struggled to fight back the creepers, Hargreaves raced in. ‘All the guards have gone!’ he cried. ‘I think they’ve made a run for it.’

‘Just like a bunch of women,’ growled Scorby.

‘I also heard a scream from the West Gardens,’ added Hargreaves. ‘I didn’t go out.’

Sarah looked concerned. ‘We’d better investigate.’ She started to leave.

‘No. Stay put,’ ordered Scorby. ‘We can’t risk it with that thing roaming about out there.’

Sarah scoffed. ‘What was that you just said about women?’ She ran from the room. Scorby hesitated, told Hargreaves to carry on boarding the windows, then followed Sarah out.

It was first light. Sarah’s, breath hung in the air as she made her way down the side of the house. Behind her she could hear Scorby’s heavy footsteps on the grass. This time her own example had forced him to comply, but clearly when things got worse Scorby would be interested in saving only one skin—his own.

They were now nearing the thick undergrowth and had to pick their way carefully. Suddenly Sarah stopped. Sticking out of the long grass a few yards ahead was a human hand. Gingerly, she approached the body. A thick clump of trailing vines had wound itself tightly round one of the guards and strangled him to death.

‘It’s not possible,’ whispered Sarah, looking round in horror. The vine creepers were swaying eerily from side to side although there was no breeze.

All at once a twig snapped underfoot. Startled, Scorby and Sarah whirled round. Chase was standing in the bushes a few feet away.

‘I obtained some fascinating photographs,’ he said. There was an odd, faraway look in his eyes.

Scorby ran to his side and shook his arm. ‘Mr Chase, we’re in desperate trouble. The plants are taking over!’

‘Why not? It’s their world. We animals are simply parasites after all.’ Chase smiled strangely. ‘I must get these developed.’ He turned on his heel and hurried off towards the house.

Scorby shook his head. ‘He’s really gone.’

‘He’s been gone for years if you ask me,’ replied Sarah quietly.

They retraced their steps to the Laboratory. Hargreaves had successfully blocked up the remaining windows. Chase’s camera lay on the bench.

‘Where is he?’ said Scorby.

Hargreaves motioned towards the large ornate doors which led to the greenhouse. ‘Talking to his plants. I wouldn’t disturb him if I...’

Scorby pushed the butler roughly to one side and threw open the doors. ‘Chase!’

At the far end of the catwalk, almost hidden by the dense foliage, was the immobile figure of his master. He was seated crosslegged, in the familiar Lotus position of an oriental mystic, eyes closed, hands pressed together beneath his chin. His lips were moving rapidly as if repeating a litany but no words could be heard because the room was filled with a piercing electronic sound.

Scorby crossed to the synthesiser and switched it off. Oblivious, Chase continued his incantation.

‘We shall have perfection... the world will be as it should have been from the beginning... a paradise of green...’

Scorby ran down the catwalk and grabbed hold of the mumbling figure. ‘Chase, listen to me! ‘

‘... a harmony of root, stem, leaf and flower...’

‘
Chase!
’

‘It’s no good,’ said Sarah. ‘He’s in some sort of trance.’

Scorby ignored her and continued to bellow at the inert form. ‘Chase, you’ve got to understand. We’re going to be trapped here unless we do something. Your precious plants are starting to kill people.’

Chase opened his eyes and gazed scornfully at the pleading figure before him. ‘The time has come. Animals have held sway on this planet for millions of years. Now it is our turn.’

‘What do you mean, your turn? You’re one of us, Chase.’

‘No he’s not,’ said Sarah. ‘not any more.’

Scorby turned to Hargreaves. ‘Come on. We’ve got to lock him up.’ He started to grab Chase under the arms. The butler hesitated, his sense of loyalty upper-most.

Suddenly Sarah let out a shriek. ‘Scorby! The plants! They’re moving!’

As they looked the foliage on either side of the catwalk began to close in, cutting off their escape to the door. A creeper wrapped itself around Sarah’s ankle. Desperately she jerked herself free. Another caught her arm. Scorby and Hargreaves also began to struggle. A sinister shrill rustling sound began to build up in the room, as if the plants themselves were emitting a battle-cry.

Someone began to choke. ‘Help! Help!’

‘Don’t resist us. You have to die. All plant eaters must die.’ Chase’s hollow voice rang in Sarah’s ears but now it seemed far, far away. The blood pounded in her temples, her muscles began to tire, she couldn’t breathe, she was being slowly throttled to death!

11
Trapped!

‘Sarah!’

Through a green haze she saw the blurred outline of the Doctor and felt a fine spray of liquid on her face. Around her the seething vegetation began to fall away. A second figure, dressed in khaki, swam into her vision, making for Scorby and the butler. The room was filled with a terrible keening wail, as if the plants were dying.