Inside the pipeline tube, the thumping heartbeat sound was pounding louder and louder, the white foam was bubbling, and the seaweed clumps were squealing. And in the middle of it all, the weed tendrils groped uncontrollably at the transparent walls. They were determined to find a way out...
10
The Spy Within
The Communications Hall was like a mausoleum. There were no flashing lights on the illuminated panel above the Control Cone, and every one of the television monitor screens was blank. Amongst the Communications crew there was a mixture of apathy and fear, and after the long hours of endless duty, total exhaustion. Everyone was in a state of high tension, watching and waiting for the weed's next move.
At the Control Cone, Price was relentlessly trying to re-establish contact with the rigs out at sea. Over and over again his weary voice could be heard echoing throughout the Hall, calling out to the lifeless two-way monitor screens.
'Feed Headquarters calling Rig F. Feed Headquarters calling Rig F. Are you receiving me? Come in please. Over!'
Anxious moments whilst everyone waited for a response. But the central monitor screen remained stubbornly silent.
Chairperson Megan Jones hurried into the Hall from the impeller Area. Harris, Perkins, the Doctor, Jamie, and Victoria were with her.
'Mr Harris sir!' Price called immediately from the Cone. 'I can't raise any of the rigs.'
Harris went quickly to the Cone. 'None of them?'
'Not one, sir. I'll try again.' He turned back to the monitors again, and repeated his emergency calls. 'Feed Headquarters calling Rig B. Feed Headquarters calling Rig B. Are you receiving me? Come in please. Over!'
Once again, the same dead reaction from both monitor and illuminated panel. Price turned from the Cone to give Harris a sad shake of the head.
'Keep trying man!' insisted Miss Jones in desperation. Reluctantly, Price turned back to continue repeating his video calls to the rigs.
'You're wasting your time, Miss Jones,' said the Doctor. 'By now those rigs will be part of the weed colony.'
'I don't care about the rigs,' bawled Harris. 'What's happened to the men out there?'
All the Doctor could do was to shake his head slowly, despondently.
Harris's frustration suddenly exploded. 'Then we've got to destroy the rigs! Every one of them!'
'No!' yelled the Chairperson defiantly. 'Never!'
The Doctor agreed. 'No, Mr Harris. We daren't do that.'
'Why not?'
'Because it would spread this menace over a wide area and make it almost impossible to attack.'
'Well, what are we supposed to do?' snapped Harris. 'Just sit here and wait to be destroyed?'
'More important, Mr Harris,' said the Doctor, trying to calm Harris's high state of tension, 'is to know what the Weed is going to do.'
There was a moment's pause, then the Chairperson asked, 'What can it do?'
'Let's think,' suggested the Doctor. He started pacing up and down, quickly trying to calculate the true extent of the seaweed menace. 'Now... I suppose the weed was first drawn up through the drilling rigs?'
'No,' said Harris. 'Anything that comes up through those bores would be cleared by the engineers at source. Otherwise it would block the pumps.'
'Precisely!' The Doctor stopped pacing, and turned back to Harris. 'And the engineers who cleared it would probably have come into physical contact with it. In other words, they'd have touched it in some way or another?'
'Yes... I see what you mean.' Harris was beginning to understand what the Doctor was getting at. 'Those engineers would have been the first to have come under the direct control of the weed.'
The Doctor's mind was now racing. 'Since then, this attack - and it is an attack - has followed a pattern.'
The Chairperson asked, 'How d'you mean?'
'I mean, Miss Jones, that the top priority people in the Euro-Gas network have been affected first.'
'If your theory is correct,' estimated the Chairperson, 'this weed now controls two vital people who know the entire layout and structure of the Refinery compound.'
The Doctor scratched the back of his head, and sighed. 'Unfortunately, that is true.'
After thinking carefully for a brief moment, the Chairperson turned quickly to Harris and said urgently, 'Robson was here not so very long ago. We must find him and prevent the weed from using him - for his own sake as well as ours!'
Harris agreed and went straight to Price at the Control Cone. 'Get Security to search the entire Compound. 'I want Mr Robson found and put under armed guard in his cabin.'
Price nodded, and immediately put a call through to Security.
Harris returned to the Doctor. 'One thing doesn't fit in with your theory,' he said, trying to work things out. 'The fact that your friend Victoria was attacked in the Oxygen Room. She has absolutely nothing whatever to do with the personnel here.'
'Yes. That's one thing that's been puzzling me.' The Doctor considered this carefully for a moment, then continued. 'Victoria disturbed someone who was attempting to interfere with the oxygen supply... '
'Yes. Someone wearing a gas mask.'
The Doctor reacted sharply. 'Of course! Now if that person was under the control of the weed then he was wearing a gas mask for one reason only!'
'Because to him, pure oxygen would be toxic!'
The Doctor thumped his fist into his hand excitedly. 'Exactly!'
Amongst a group of engineers listening nearby were Mr Oak and Mr Quill, who exchanged a pointed glance with each other. Without saying a word, both slipped out of the Hall unnoticed.
Now it was Harris's turn to become excited. The Doctor had given him the first glimmer of hope. 'Oxygen! That's the key to it all! We can use it as a weapon against the weed.'
The Doctor held up his hands to advise caution. 'At the moment, it's only a theory... '
For the first time, the Chairperson directed a smile of confidence towards the Doctor. 'As Mr Harris said before, you've been right so far, there's no reason why you shouldn't be now.'
'How nice to be trusted!' replied the Doctor, beaming. 'I only hope I'm right!'
The Chairperson's smile quickly faded.
Mr Oak and Mr Quill waddled down the corridor from the Communications Hall. They stopped briefly at the door marked, OXYGEN STORE ROOM, quickly checked the corridor to make sure no-one could see them, then entered.
The Oxygen Room was in darkness; Mr Oak and Mr Quill preferred it that way. First they put on their white gloves, then their gas masks, which they carried across their shoulders. After nodding to each other, they made their way to the rows of oxygen cylinders stacked on the shelves. One by one they turned on the release taps.
Two sinister white-clad figures moved around in the dark. The room was filled with the sound of hissing gas...
Jamie and Victoria were watching the Doctor, who was deep in thought. They had seen him like this so many times before, eyes transfixed to the ground, like a general trying to work out the enemy's next move.
On the other side of the Communications Hall, Harris was with Megan Jones and Perkins in the office area. All three were slouched wearily in chairs, sipping black coffee from thick Company mugs. Not a word was spoken between them. Secretly, each of them were hoping that the Doctor would come up with some miracle solution that would save them all from disaster.
'Mr Harris sir!' All three turned. Price was calling from the Control Cone. 'They've found Mr Robson!'
Harris rose immediately and rushed across. 'Where is he?'
'In his cabin, sir. Apparently he was just lying on his bunk. There's a guard outside his door.'
'Good! Tell Security to keep him there. I'm on my way over right now!'
'I want to see him, Harris,' called the Chairperson, as she hurried across from the office with Perkins.
'I strongly advise against it, Miss Jones,' warned Harris. 'Mr Robson is a very ill man.'
The Chairperson had that stubborn look in her eyes again. '
I want to see him.'
'But you've seen him already. It's obvious he's in no fit state to help us in any way.'
'Let me be the judge of that, Harris. Mr Robson and I are old friends. If he knows something, I'm the person he'll confide in.'
Harris sighed. He knew better than to argue with the woman. She always used seniority rather than reason to get her own way. 'Very well, Miss Jones. But I warn you, Mr Robson is in an unpredictable state at the moment. He could be violent.'
The Chairperson didn't bother to listen to Harris. She was already on her way out of the Hall. Harris and Perkins followed her obediently.
'But why not ask the Minister to request some assistance from the National Defences?' Perkins suggested, as he trailed behind the Chairperson along the main Compound corridor.
'Don't talk rot, man!' snapped the lady dismissively. 'What exactly do you suppose the armed forces could do?'
'Well... attack this... this weed stuff, or whatever it is.'
'How? If we attack the rigs, what about the men out there?'
'But we don't know there are any men left on the rigs?'
The Chairperson stopped abruptly and turned on Perkins. He was getting on her nerves. 'Equally, we don't know that they aren't still there! They may be prisoners - anything! And even if we do blow the rigs out of the sea, there's no guarantee that will be the end of this - this nightmare. For all we know, it could even spread the menace, just like that Doctor fellow suggested.'
Perkins twitched uneasily, utterly deafeated.
Harris quickly interrupted them. 'This way please, Miss Jones.'
The Chairperson glared contemptuously at Perkins, then followed Harris into an adjoining corridor.
An armed Security Guard was on duty outside Robson's cabin. As Harris, the Chairperson, and Perkins approached, he straightened up a little and tried to look efficient.
Harris was worried. 'Look, Miss Jones. I think it would be far safer if you let me or Mr Perkins come in with you.'
The Chairperson waved her hand dismissively. 'Stop fussing, man! I shall be perfectly all right.'
Harris hesitated, still uncertain. Then he nodded to the Guard, who unlocked the door. Without another word, the Chairperson entered Robson's cabin.
Robson was lying on his bunk, eyes staring aimlessly at the ceiling. His face was white, gaunt, and lined, and his hair was even more streaked with white than when Harris had first noticed it on the beach.
The Chairperson came in, and closed the door behind her. She turned to look at Robson, but hesitated before going across to him. 'Robson,' she called quietly. No reply. She tried again. 'Robson.' Still no reply, not even a flicker of recognition. Slowly, cautiously, she moved towards the bunk and looked down at Robson. She was shocked by his appearance.
'John,' she called in a gentle whisper. 'John, can you hear me?'
After a moment's pause, Robson slowly turned his head towards her. There was a faint glimmer of recognition in his eyes. His face was streaked with perspiration, and it was obvious that he was under considerable mental strain.
'It's all right, John. It's me - Megan. Megan Jones.'
Robson just stared aimlessly at her. There was no sign of life in his eyes.
'We want to try and help you.'
'Help...?' Robson struggled to speak. But his voice was bewildered, barely audible.
Megan drew closer. 'Tell me what happened, John...'
Robson shook his head.
'Try, John! We can't help you unless you try!'
There was panic in Robson's eyes. And desperation. 'Nobody... nobody can help...'
'We can help you, John, but only if you let us. Whatever it is that's affecting you, you've got to fight it!'
'No!' Robson suddenly sat bolt upright. His eyes began to dart frantically around the room in every direction.
Megan grabbed him firmly by the shoulders. She tried to be the Chairperson with him again, to bring him back to reality. 'Now listen to me, Robson!' she snapped, 'just remember that I am the one who put you in charge of this Refinery, and I can just as easily send you right back to the rigs! Do you want that, Robson? Do you?' She watched him in horrified disbelief as he started to breathe quickly and heavily. But her only feeble response was to shake him by his shoulders and bawl, 'Pull yourself together man!'
Robson's frantic breathing stopped suddenly, and his eyes glazed over. Megan felt as though she was holding on to a marble statue. 'What is it, John?' she asked tensely. 'Tell me!'
It seemed like hours before Robson's reply. He slowly turned and stared at her, his mind battling with the telepathic control of the weed. 'Meg-an... ' His mouth was struggling to form the words. 'I... I...' He stopped dead. The sound was beginning to take over. The thumping, heartbeat sound, pulverising his mind into submission. He clutched his ears in agony and yelled out, 'Help me!'
Megan held on to his shoulders and gradually eased him back onto the pillow. 'Easy now, John... easy...'
Robson's agonising shout brought Harris bursting into the room. 'Miss Jones! Are you all right?'
Megan didn't reply. She was trying to comfort Robson, who was quiet now, his eyes once again staring aimlessly. 'Robson,' she whispered gently. 'John, can you hear me?'
Robson remained absolutely still. There was not even a flicker from him now, no response or sign of recognition. Megan watched him for a moment or so, then stood up. She turned, and shook her head in despair at Harris and Perkins, who were standing in the doorway. 'It's as if he were in a trance or something - hypnotised. I thought for a moment he was going to be rational, but...'
Harris said, 'We'd better let him rest.'
Megan nodded in agreement, and after taking a last worried look back to Robson in his bunk, she returned to the corridor with Harris and Perkins.
Harris closed the cabin door, and the Security Guard moved back into position.
Megan was clearly distressed. 'Isn't there anything we can do for him, Harris?'
Harris shook his head. 'The Doctor couldn't help my wife. We're up against something we know nothing about.'
Megan turned to look at him, and straightened up. She was the Chairperson again. There was a new surge of determination in her. 'Then the only thing that will help any of us - as far as I can see - is to destroy that weed.' Without saying another word, she marched off down the corridor in the direction of the Control Hall.
Harris and Perkins exchanged a brief look of surprise, then followed her.
In the Control Hall, Jamie and Victoria were watching the Doctor, who was deep in thought, sitting on the steps leading up to the pipeline inspection area. Every so often he would mumble something under his breath, a sure sign that he was trying to work out some kind of logical plan.
'He's really worried now,' said Jamie anxiously. 'He's beginning to give me the willies!'
Victoria crossed her arms and sighed despondently. 'Yes. I just wish we could go back to the TARDIS and get away from all this trouble.'
'Och, we couldna' do that! The Doctor would never leave all these people, not when they're facing up to so much danger...'
'Oh I know, I know!' snapped Victoria irritably.
Jamie turned to look at her, aware that she was in a bad mood again. 'You don't have to bite my head off, y'know!'
Victoria threw him a tetchy look without replying.
'The Doctor's got enough trouble on his hands trying to find out what's going on round here. You know, it's odd. He says there definitely is an obvious answer to this weed stuff.'
'Answer? What d'you mean?'
'You know, some way of fighting it.'
'It can't be that obvious,' said Victoria dismissively, 'otherwise he'd have thought of it!'
The Chairperson entered the Hall with Harris and Perkins. They went straight to the Doctor.
'Well, Doctor, have you thought of any means by which we can attack this... weed?' The Chairperson had a way of sounding aggressive without actually being so.
The Doctor looked up
from his reverie. 'Hmm? Oh... no, Miss Jones. Not yet, I'm afraid.'
'What about the weed? What do you think it will do next?'
The Doctor raised himself up from the step he was sitting on. 'I think it has little alternative but to attack us... right here!'
Once again everyone in the Hall turned to look at the Doctor.
'Here?' spluttered Harris. 'In the Refinery?'
'Yes!' The Doctor was quite firm in his reply.
'But what could make you think such a thing?' This was the first time Perkins had contributed anything to the discussion.
The Doctor put his hands behind his back and looked around the vast Control Hall. 'This Refinery is the pivot of the gas distribution network. If the weed is to survive and expand, it has to gain control right here! Our only hope is to find the nerve-centre of the weed colony - and destroy it.'
Everyone in the Hall exchanged glances with each other in stunned silence. Surprisingly, it was Perkins who asked the crucial question. 'But where is this nerve centre?'
'We don't know.' The Doctor was more grave-faced than either Jamie or Victoria could remember. 'That's just one of the problems.'
'And we're not sure yet quite how to destroy it, are we?' Harris brushed his usual troublesome lock of hair from his eye.
'No,' said the Doctor falteringly, 'but... there's something at the back of my mind which...'
'What about the oxygen?' suggested Harris.
The Doctor looked up sharply. 'The oxygen? Yes. It's a possibility.'
'Right!' said the Chairperson, quick to assert her authority. Turning to Harris she bawled, 'Put the Oxygen Supply Room under guard - immediately!'
Robson was lying on his bunk where Megan Jones had left him. For once, his eyes were closed, and he was fast asleep.
Suddenly, his eyes sprang open and immediately focussed on the ventilator grille in the ceiling directly above his head. For several moments he kept absolutely still. Either he wouldn't move, or he couldn't.
To Robson, the grille appeared as a vast dark cavern. Something was there looking clown at him, watching, waiting...
DOCTOR WHO - FURY FROM THE DEEP Page 13
