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DOCTOR WHO AND THE BRAIN OF MORBIUS

Page 8

by Terrance Dicks


  Sarah heard Condo's footsteps move away. She felt Solon fastening her to the chair with heavy straps. 'Must make sure our guest doesn't leave us again...' She heard him chuckle, and his hand stroked her hair, mimicking Condo's gesture. 'Poor Condo. Perhaps I'll let him have your hair as a souvenir. Better still, I'll give him the whole head!'

  'You're insane, Solon, you know that? You're raving mad!'

  She heard Solon's angry gasp. 'Oh, no, that's what they all said—but it was jealousy l They envied my achievements!'

  Sarah realised she had touched a nerve. This wasn't the first time Solon had been accused of insanity, and he was very sensitive on the subject. The angry voice ranted on. 'When I said I could sustain life in the organs of the dead, they mocked me. Only Morbius had the faith to believe in me. Only Morbius! I bribed the guards, so I was able to steal his brain before they destroyed his body. I kept it alive!' She heard him pace across the room and there was a swish of curtains. Solon must be looking at the ghastly creation on the bed. 'One day soon they'll all choke on their laughter. I made this! Every part is functioning perfectly, exactly as I planned. Oh yes, they'll see. Once I have the Doctor's head...'

  She heard him close the draperies and move away from the bed. 'It's getting dark,' he muttered. Sarah guessed he must be staring out of the window. The rambling voice went on. Solon was talking to himself. 'Maren should have sent the head by now. Nothing can have gone wrong. The Doctor must have gone into the Temple. He must! I don't understand... where is that head?'

  Sarah heard the restless footsteps pace the floor for a moment, then go out of the door. She started struggling with her bonds, then stopped as other, heavier footsteps came into the laboratory. A beaker of water touched her lips. 'Girl, drink,' rumbled Condo. Obediently Sarah drank.

  For a long time Solon wandered restlessly about the castle. Time and again he went to the front door, peering across the darkening plain for one of the Sisterhood bearing the Doctor's head. But no one came. At last, drawn by some irresistible fascination, Solon re-entered the basement crypt where the brain of Morbius floated in its tank. Immediately Morbius began to interrogate him. 'What is happening, Solon? Is it time for the operation?'

  Absently Solon replied, 'Not yet, Morbius. I am still waiting for the Time Lord's head.'

  'Time Lord? This Doctor is a Time Lord?'

  Solon bit his lip. He had deliberately refrained from telling Morbius that the Doctor was a Time Lord, for fear that the news would prove too disturbing for him. But the secret was out now so he might as well put a good face on it. 'Why yes, Morbius. Of course the Doctor is a Time Lord. That's why the head is so perfect for you. From one of your own race, from those who turned on you and tried to destroy you, we obtain a new head, eh Morbius? What you might call the crowning irony.' Solon giggled nervously at his own gruesome joke.

  'Fool,' said Morbius dispassionately. 'You are a fool, Solon. Don't you see what this means? The Time Lords must have got wind of the way we cheated them. They've managed to track me down.'

  Solon gasped in sudden panic. 'No... no you're wrong.'

  'I am not wrong,' boomed the commanding voice. 'I know the Time Lords, pallid, devious worms! You had the Doctor here, Solon—and you let him go!'

  'The Sisterhood snatched him from me,' babbled Solon. 'Just as I had him helpless, they took him. You think he and Maren have been plotting together? That they pretended to be enemies so as to deceive me?'

  'Of course,' said Morbius positively. 'Soon, the Time Lords will return in force to finish their work—and they'll find me here, helpless, defenceless. They'll destroy me, Solon. Thanks to you they'll destroy me with ease... and all my sufferings will have been for nothing.'

  'And what of my work? All my years of terrible loneliness, the isolation.' Solon realised they were both wallowing in useless self-pity. 'What can we do, Morbius? How can we stop them?'

  'We have only one chance. You must get me away from here before they arrive!'

  'But how can I?' Solon gestured towards the tank and its surrounding circuitry. 'The support system is scarcely portablenot for more than very short distances. And without it your brain will die, Morbius.'

  'The body you have already made must serve as my support system. You must transplant me into it, Solon, while there is still time.'

  Solon shook his head despairingly. 'It. isn't possible. Without a suitable head...'

  'You have the girl's head. Use that.'

  (On the stairway, Condo heard this and stiffened warily. He paused to listen.)

  'The head is too small, Morbius. It's the same problem with Condo. If I put the brain into a braincase too small to contain it you would die, just as surely as at the hands of the Time Lords.'

  'Yet I must be free of this tank. I must have a head, a body, a physical being again... Solon, you spoke once of constructing an artificial brain case.'

  'I abandoned that project long ago.'

  'Why?'

  'There were problems... formidable problems. There was a build-up of static electricity within the cranial cavity. At times of stress it could have earthed through the brain, upsetting the delicate equilibrium, disturbing the neural centres...'

  Impatiently Morbius interrupted,.'But you did make a brain case?'

  'Indeed, yes. I still have it here somewhere.' Solon went to a corner locker and rummaged amongst shelves piled high with disintegrating equipment. At last he came up with a large transparent globe, its interior a maze of delicate circuits. From the front projected two photo-cells each on a transparent stalk, the 'eyes' of this artificial head. Solon blew the dust off the contraption and examined it gloomily. 'Oh, it wouldn't do, Morbius. There could be severe pain, seizures, perhaps even madness...'

  There was no hesitation in Morbius's voice. 'Whatever the risks I will take them, rather than surrender to the Time Lords. There is no choice left to me, Solon.'

  Solon hesitated, wringing his hands in anguish. But Morbius was right—and Solon knew it. 'Very well, my lord. I shall do my utmost. I shall use all my skill. With luck the brain case will function, at least for a while. Long enough for us to escape and start afresh elsewhere. We shall triumph yet!'

  'Prepare me for the operation!'

  Obediently Solon moved to the tank controls. He flicked switches, the greenish glow died, and the convoluted purple mass that was the brain of Morbius sank slowly to the bottom of the tank.

  The Doctor's body lay in a long, coffin-shaped casket. Ohica touched his forehead. It was icy cold. Two Sisters came forward and closed the casket. The still, calm face of the Doctor could be seen through a transparent panel in the lid.

  Maren raised her hand, and four Sisters came forward. They lifted the casket, one at each corner, and stood waiting. Ohica glanced worriedly at the High Priestess. 'Is what we are doing right, High One?'

  Maren's voice was implacable. 'Things will fall out as they are ordained. The matter is out of our hands now.' She raised her voice. 'Take the casket to Solon. If he asks questions, tell him we have slain the Doctor, and the body is his to do with as he will.'

  Slowly the Sisters carried the casket away.

  In Solon's laboratory, Sarah was wrestling grimly with the straps that held her to the chair. Food and drink had renewed her energy, and her determination to escape, or at least to do something to hamper Solon's evil schemes. She heard an approaching footstep, abandoned her efforts, and let herself slump back into her chair. 'Solon?' she called. Strange how quickly she was learning to recognise different footsteps.

  Solon ignored her. He put the globe-shaped brain case he was carrying onto a bench, went to the four poster bed, and drew back the curtains. He leaned over his monstrous creation and began checking it over. A few minutes later he straightened up, re-drew the curtains, and headed for the door. 'Condo!' he yelled.

  Condo appeared in the doorway with suspicious suddenness. He had been trailing Solon around the castle, trying to gain some clue to his Master's intentions. Two thoughts were occup
ying Condo's limited intelligence—Sarah's safety, and the return of his precious arm. Only this latter problem prevented him from killing Solon out of hand.

  Solon took the prompt appearance of Condo for granted. 'I need your help, Condo. We must prepare for an important operation.'

  'Operation to put back arm?'

  'Not yet, Condo, though that will be next, I promise you. No, this operation is far more delicate. It concerns the brain of our Master, Morbius.'

  Sarah looked up in alarm. Had the Doctor's head been delivered to Solon after all? But before she could ask questions, Solon had bustled Condo from the laboratory.

  Solon led Condo down the stairs and into the crypt. He went to one side of the now-disconnected tank, and motioned Condo to the other. 'We must hope the liquid will cushion the brain against the shock of moving. Now, get your hook under that edge and lift!'

  Struggling and sweating they wrestled the heavy case out of the crypt and up the stairs towards the laboratory. Condo did most of the work, Solon alternately cursing his clumsiness and beseeching him to be more careful. At last they reached the laboratory, and heaved the case up on to a bench.

  Condo looked on interestedly as Solon fussed round the tank, checking that the brain had come to no harm. 'Master put brain in body? Where head?'

  Solon tapped the transparent globe. 'This will serve as the head, Condo. An artificial head, just like your artificial arm...'

  'Condo see new body. Solon never let Condo seeCondo see now!' Before Solon could stop him, Condo strode across the room and pulled back the curtains around the four-poster bed.

  'Condo, come away,' shouted Solon—but he was too late.

  Condo was staring in fascinated horror at the creature on the bed. More particularly, he was staring at the brawny and unmistakeably human left arm that joined the shaggy shoulder. He stared at it unbelievingly, then looked down at his own good arm, then at the missing one.

  'Condo's arm,' he growled. 'You take Condo's arm—for this?'

  Solon tried to bluff. 'I needed it, Condo. You remember, we were only able to save one usable claw from that Crustacoid in the wreck... Look upon it as a loan. You'll have it back as soon as I can find a better. Now hurry, man. The brain will deteriorate if it's not connected soon...'

  Condo wasn't listening. He advanced remorselessly on Solon, hand and hook reaching out. 'You take Condo's arm. Now you die!'

  As the hook flashed down, Solon snatched a blaster from beneath his robes and fired. Condo yelled and staggered back. He stumbled into the life-support tank and sent it crashing to the floor. It shattered and the brain of Morbius floated out like a jelly-fish on a flood of nutrient fluid. 'Murdering peasant!' Solon screamed, and fired again.

  Howling with pain and rage, Condo staggered out of the door and away down the corridor. Solon ignored him. Snatching the transparent brain case from the bench he knelt amidst the shattered remnants of the tank and carefully scooped the spongy mass of the brain from the floor and deposited it inside.

  Strapped in her chair all this while, Sarah had been listening helplessly to the sound of struggle. 'Solon, what's happening?' she called.

  Solon crouched over the brain-case, turning it slowly in his hands, examining the brain within for signs of damage. 'The greatest intellect that has ever been—destroyed by a mindless brute.' Solon began to sob.

  Another of Karn's frequent storms was building up. Thunder rumbled, winds howled eerily and occasional flashes of lightning lit up the mountainous landscape. One of these flashes revealed a strange procession wending its way along the valley that led to Solon's castle. Four black-robed Sisters bore a coffin-shaped casket on their shoulders. Before and behind, other Sisters escorted them with blazing torches. Their flames lit up the Doctor's calm and peaceful face.

  The ghostly procession moved silently on its way.

  Sarah went on shouting at Solon, until at last he regained enough control to answer her. 'There was a dreadful accident. The brain of Morbius was there on the floor! I can't tell what damage there might be...' A note of decision came into Solon's voice. 'I must continue with the operation. You will have to be my assistant, I can't be expected to work alone.'

  'What operation?' asked Sarah frantically. 'On the Doctor?'

  'No, no, no. The Doctor seems to have disappeared. I'm going to take the brain of Morbius in this artificial case, and fix it to the torso of the body I've created for him. You will help me.'

  'Oh no, I won't!'

  Sarah felt the cold metal of the blaster against her forehead. 'You'll do as I say,' snapped Solon. He unbuckled her straps. 'Now, get up and come over here.'

  'How can I help you,' protested Sarah. 'You know I can't see.'

  'All you need do is work the air-pump. One stroke every three seconds, do you understand?' Solon thrust what felt like the handle of a small stirrup-pump into Sarah's hand.

  'All right, I'll try. Suppose I make a mistake?'

  Carefully Solon began adjusting the position of the brain inside the transparent case. 'It's very simple, my dear. If Morbius dies, then you die. Now, shall we begin? You are privileged to assist at a great moment in medical history.'

  Solon worked like a maniac in the tense time that followed. First he connected the brain to the neural harness in the transparent case. Then the case itself was joined to the monstrous torso. He worked swiftly, pausing only to wipe the sweat from his eyes, connecting the plastic 'head' to the assembled body with a laser-scalpel. It was a fantastically delicate operation, carried out under primitive conditions, and with amazing speed.

  Sarah of course saw nothing of this. But she could feel the tension in the air and hear the hoarse breathing of the Monster. Solon rapped out an instruction. 'The pressure! I told you every three seconds, girl.' Hurriedly Sarah worked the pump.

  At last she sensed that Solon had stopped working. 'There! The casing's connected to the neural harness, and the links are complete. All I need do now is to test for neural feedback.'

  'Can I stop pumping now?'

  'Yes, of course.'

  Thankfully Sarah straightened up. She heard Solon moving, and then he gave an excited gasp. 'There, did you see that? The claw twitched.'

  'I can't see anything, Solon. But that mixed-up monster of yours had the twitches when I first met it.'

  Solon sniffed indignantly. 'Those were just random nervous reflexes. But this was a positive response to stimulation. Just what I'd hoped for!.'

  'The operation's succeeded then?'

  Solon rubbed his hands triumphantly. 'The motor centres of the brain have taken control. If there was no cerebral damage, then in a matter of minutes Morbius will live again!'

  There came a rusty, jangling noise from below. It was the bell that hung by the front door. Sarah remembered the Doctor sounding it when they'd first arrived.

  Solon tensed. 'What was that?'

  'Front door bell,' said Sarah practically. 'Milkman, perhaps? No, it's too late for that. Maybe it's the evening paper!'

  Solon rounded on her. 'Stop babbling and go and answer it, girl!'

  'Look, I'm not signing on as your permanent assistant,' said Sarah spiritedly. 'Anyway, I can't see!'

  She heard Solon sigh. 'All right. Stay here. Don't move—and don't touch anything or it'll be the worse for you ! ' She heard him hurry out.

  Everything went quiet. Sarah heard only the distant rumbling of the thunder, and the hoarse breathing of the thing on the bed. She couldn't see that the round globe of its head had suddenly swung round, so that the projecting photo-cells pointed straight at her. Nor did she hear the movement as the creature on the bed sat upright, then got slowly to its feet.

  Sarah had suddenly found that she could see a tiny glowing point of light hanging before her eyes. Totally absorbed she sat staring into space. The ghastly monstrosity that was Solon's creation, crowned now with a transparent globe for a head, lurched slowly towards her, flexing its one giant claw...

  10

  Monster on the
Rampage

  Solon ran down the stairs and into the great hall. The main door stood open and an icy wind howled through the room. There was no one in the hall... but a long, coffin-shaped casket lay in the centre of the floor. Suddenly the doors slammed shut, as if of their own accord.

  Solon crossed to the casket and peered through the transparent panel in the lid. The Doctor's face looked impassively back at him. Solon heaved the lid from the casket and placed a hand on the Doctor's forehead, lifted a wrist feeling for a pulse. 'Dead,' he muttered. 'The Sisters accepted my bargain after all.' Suddenly he realised. 'Morbius was wrong... If we'd waited. If we'd only waited...' After the tension of the recent operation, the irony of the situation was too much for Solon. Clutching the side of the casket for support, he collapsed into hysterical laughter.

  Sarah sat quite still, staring straight ahead of her. She was still gazing in fascination at the tiny point of light. It grew brighter, clearer... and resolved itself into an old-fashioned Bunsen burner left alight on Solon's laboratory bench. She could see—the flame, the burner, the bench, and a misty outline of the room beyond. The blindness was going as swiftly as it had come. She could see again!

  Sarah was so absorbed, and so overjoyed, that she didn't hear the sounds of stealthy movement behind her. She rubbed her fists in her eyes then looked again. She could see. She could really see!

  Then she heard a dragging footstep. She turned to see the Monster looming threateningly over her.

  Sarah backed away. The Morbius Monster made a clumsy grab at her, missed and knocked over the Bunsen burner. It fell into a tray of surgical spirits in which some of Solon's instruments lay sterilising. Immediately a sheet of flame shot up. The Monster swiped wildly at the tray, sending blazing liquid flying through the air. Some of it splashed on its own hide and set it alight. The Monster staggered back, roaring in rage and pain.

 

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