'Then let us do the little that we can,' said Ohica fiercely. 'Otherwise the Doctor faces Morbius and Solon alone—while we do nothing.'
Maren's voice quavered. 'I am old, Ohica, old, and my courage fails me. I am too weak to leave the Temple. I cannot lead you.'
Ohica's eyes blazed. 'Then let me, High One. Give the order, and let me lead the Sisterhood against Morbius!'
Sarah was pacing about the crypt, looking for hidden passageways or convenient chimneys. There was nothing. She turned impatiently to the Doctor who sat glumly, chin in hands. 'Come on, Doctor, there must be something you can do. It's not like you to give up. Solon's got to be stopped somehow.'
The Doctor pointed upwards. 'There are thousands of tons of stone between Solon's laboratory and where we are...' He stopped abruptly. 'Wait a minute, I've got an idea...'
Sarah brightened. 'I knew you would.'
The Doctor was rummaging amongst the racks of chemicals that lined the walls. 'Solon must have kept the brain alive in a colloidal nutrient... Ah!' The Doctor grabbed a flask and held it up triumphantly.'Hydrogen cyanide...' He found another flask. 'And prussic acid!' The Doctor examined several flasks, nodding thoughtfully as he checked the contents.
'So what are we going to do? Mix a cocktail and drink ourselves to death?'
The Doctor pulled a rack of shelves away from the wall to reveal a tiny ventilation-duct. He wrenched off its cover and held his hand to the vent. 'Splendid, a powerful up-draught...'
Sarah peered into the tiny space. 'Haw did you know that would be there?'
'Before Solon took this place over for his castle, it probably housed a hydrogen reactor. I know how they're designed.'
'Well, what are we goingto do?'
Suddenly the Doctor's face was very grave. 'I'm pretty sure this duct will lead to Solon's laboratory, Sarah. And we have everything here we need to make a pretty nasty mixture of gases.'
Sarah said slowly, 'Are you suggesting...'
The Doctor nodded. 'I'm afraid so, Sarah. I can't say I like the idea... but unless Solon is stopped—it will mean the deaths of untold millions. So stand clear—and I mean well clear. There's probably more danger to us than there is to Solon.'
In his laboratory Solon was hard at work, changing and re-adjusting the connections that linked the brain of Morbius to its artificial container, and to the Monster's body. With the malfunctions corrected, there was no reason why the brain shouldn't function properly. Absorbed in his delicate task, Solon failed to notice a thin thread of greyish vapour that drifted from the air duct...
A water-soaked handkerchief over his mouth, the Doctor was using his hat to fan a metal beaker of bubbling liquid. From it rose a thick grey vapour, which was promptly sucked into the ventilation duct.
On the far side of the room, Sarah, a similar handkerchief over her own mouth, looked on. In a muffled voice she called, 'How will we know if it's worked?'
'Well if Solon succeeds he's bound to bring Morbius down for a gloat. So if we don't get any visitors by a month's time...'
'We'll know it's worked?'
'Right!' The Doctor shoved the smoking beaker into the air-duct, grabbed a pile of water-soaked rags and blocked the opening to stop the gas drifting back. 'Well, either it's worked or it hasn't. All we can do now is wait and see.'
Solon finished his last connection and straightened up. He moved to an electrical booster apparatus connected to the Monster's chest, and threw the switch. There was a surge of power. The Monster stirred, and slowly began to sit up.
'Solon?' it said. 'Solon?' The voice was that of Morbius.
Exultantly Solon said, 'I am here! I've succeeded, Morbius. You live! You live again!'
A fit of coughing racked Solon as the vapour from the ventilator reached him. 'Morbius,' he gasped. 'Morbius...' He pitched forward onto his face.
The Monster on the bench, now truly Morbius at last, sat up and swung its legs from the bench. It studied the body of Solon, the gas drifting from the ventilator.
'Gas,' said Morbius. 'How ingenious, Doctor.' There was amusement in the deep, compelling voice. Morbius stretched, looked around. Then, completely at home in his new body, he strode confidently from the laboratory.
Sarah was still prowling restlessly about the crypt. She paused before a complicated electronic set-up. A framework of shining girders supported a circular central screen. Two head-sets were linked to it, one on each side. 'What's all this, Doctor?'
The Doctor crossed to stand beside her. 'Well, well, well, a mind-bending set-up. One of Morbius's favourite toys. Solon must have kept it as a souvenir from the good old days.' He examined the apparatus more closely. 'All linked up and ready to go, I see.'
'What does it do?'
'It enables two opponents to match the force of their minds in direct confrontation. Morbius used to boast that he'd never been beaten.'
'Is it dangerous?'
'Not if it's played for fun. But played to the ultimate—it can end in a mental deathlock. The winner can think his opponent to death by driving him back to the moment of birth—then beyond. Care for a little game?'
Sarah shuddered. 'No thanks, I don't think I'll risk it.' She began pacing the room again. 'How many seconds in a month, Doctor?'
'Two million, six hundred and seventy-eight thousand, four hundred,' said the Doctor—and they heard the key turn in the lock.
'Short month,' said Sarah nervously. The door opened and the Morbius monster stood in the doorway. The Doctor grabbed for the dart-gun, but with incredible speed Morbius snatched it from him and smashed it against the wall. The Doctor backed away, impressed by the speed of his opponent's reflexes. This time there was no doubt that the operation had been successful.
'Your idea was ingenious, Doctor, but ineffectual. Your gas affected only Solon. In my new form, I have the lungs of a Birastrop.'
'With a built-in filter system.' The Doctor nodded thoughtfully. With deliberate rudeness he added, 'How does it feel to be the biggest mongrel in the universe?'
Morbius laughed scornfully. 'Solon assembled this body for efficiency, not appearance. To be free again—that is all that matters.'
'Free to cause more havoc, more destruction?'
'The Time Lords will not prevail against me this time—nor the Sisterhood. When it is learned that Morbius has cheated death, my followers will rise in their milliards!'
There was total certainty in the deep voice. The worst of it was, reflected the Doctor ruefully, Morbius was very probably right. Somehow he had to shake that arrogant self-confidence. Mockingly he said, 'Still, you'll have to stop calling yourself Morbius, won't you? I mean, there's precious little Morbius left now. Let's think of a new name for you. Pot-pourri would be appropriate.'
Realising that for some reason the Doctor was trying to make Morbius lose his temper, Sarah joined in. 'What about chop-suey?'
Quickly the Doctor said, 'That's very good, Sarah. Chop-suey the galactic emperor.'
Morbius took a quick pace towards him, and the Doctor jumped back.
'Enjoy your joke, Doctor. You will be the first to die!'
'Now, now,' said the Doctor reprovingly. 'Mustn't get the old brain overheated, must we? You want to take care—it's not as strong as it was!'
'My brain functions perfectly!'
'I doubt it, Morbius. All that time in the tank, it's bound to have gone a little soft. I say, would you care to put it to the test? How about a small game of mind-bending? We have all the apparatus here.'
At last Sarah saw the Doctor's plan. 'No, Doctor, you mustn't,' she called. The Doctor ignored her.
'I challenge you, Morbius! Well, what do you say?'
The photo-electric cell that served Morbius for eyes surveyed the apparatus. 'I am a Time Lord of the first rank, Doctor. What are you?'
'Oh I'm nothing,' said the Doctor hastily. 'A mere nobody. But you see, Morbius, I don't think you're in the first rank any more.'
Morbius stepped forward and fixed the headset to
his transparent brain-case. 'Very well, Doctor if that is how you choose to die. I accept your challenge.'
'Now there's a sporting gentleman,' said the Doctor cheerfully. But inside he was far from lighthearted. He knew he stood little chance of defeating Morbius. His only hope was that the tremendous stresses of the game would expose some of the hidden weaknesses left by Solon's operation.
The Doctor put on his headset. 'To the death, Morbius?'
'To the death, Doctor. I, Morbius, do not play games.'
'Nor I,' said the Doctor grimly. 'Are you ready? On guard!'
The Doctor and Morbius braced themselves, gripping the gleaming scaffolding. Sarah saw a swirl of images on the central screen. A familiar face appeared—the face they had seen depicted on Solon's clay head. Morbius gave a cry of rage—clearly the appearance of 'his' face was a sign that he was losing.
Morbius rallied, and the face of the Doctor appeared on the screen.
Sarah saw that the real Doctor's face was twisted with effort. Drops of perspiration covered his forehead. Another face appeared on the screen, the debonair white-haired features of the Doctor, as Sarah had first known him.
'You are going, Doctor, going!' roared Morbius triumphantly. 'How far, Doctor? How long have you lived?'
Yet another Doctor appeared on the screen—a dark-haired little man with a whimsical expression. Then another face... a proud-looking old man. Exultantly Morbius shouted, 'Your puny mind is powerless against the brain of Morbius. Back, Doctor, back to your beginnings. To your birth—and to your death!' Sarah had a confused impression of even more faces on the screen. The Doctor was groaning, clutching the scaffolding for support...
Morbius gave a sudden terrible scream. There was a blue flash, and the transparent brain-case filled with smoke. The Doctor pulled himself upright and smiled weakly. Static electricity had fused the circuits in the brain-case, and Morbius was reduced once more to a mindless Monster. The last thing the Doctor saw was the Monster lurching out of the open door. Then blackness swallowed him up.
Sarah ran to the Doctor as he fell from the scaffolding. She tried to lift him to his feet, but he collapsed on the floor.
Sarah felt for his pulse, but she could feel nothing. Sobbing she remembered the Doctor's words, 'The winner can think his opponent to death.' Had Morbius triumphed, even in defeat?
For some time now a procession of black-robed figures had been making its way towards Solon's castle. They carried flaming torches which flared high in the night winds.
They reached the castle at last, and entered the hall just as the Monster stumbled up from the crypt. Seeing them, the Monster roared its hatred and charged through them, disappearing into the night.
Ohica raised her hand in silent command. All but four of the Sisters followed the Monster into the night. Ohica and the others descended the stairs into the crypt, where they found Sarah kneeling by the body of the Doctor. She jumped up at the sight of the sinister figures, but Ohica's voice was kind. 'What has happened?'
'I think he's dying. He took on Morbius in a mental wrestling match?
Ohica examined the Doctor briefly, then gestured to the Sisters. 'Place the Time Lord within the casket, and bear him back to the Temple.' She turned to Sarah. 'We shall do everything that we can... but I fear it is too late. He is already dying...'
The black-robed Sisters with their flaming torches hunted the Monster across the rocky face of Karn. They followed it as it made for the Temple. More torch-carrying Sisters flooded from the caves cutting off its retreat. Blazing torches hemmed the Monster in a circle of fire through which it dared not break.
The encircling flames drove the Monster higher and higher. Their minds linked in telepathic communion, the silent Sisters worked as one, guided by old Maren who sat motionless on her throne, her face blank, seeing through their eyes. 'Higher, sisters, higher,' she ordered—and the Monster was driven to the very peak of the mountain.
Here it turned at bay, snarling and roaring, a semi-circle of blazing torches in front, a sheer precipice behind. The torches came closer and closer. The Monster retreated, back and back...
Suddenly all the blazing torches seemed to merge into one giant flame. As that flame lunged forward, the Monster screamed and jumped back into empty space. The scream tailed away, down and down, till the misshapen body was smashed to pieces on the jagged rocks far below.
In the Temple, Maren whispered, 'It is done, Sisters. Return!'
The Sisters filed down the mountainside, and the light of their torches was quenched in the sacred cave.
12
A Time Lord Spell
The Doctor lay silent and unmoving on a kind of bier before Maren's throne. At a respectful distance, some of the Sisters were softly chanting. Sarah looked enquiringly at Ohica. 'They sing the death song,' said the priestess gently. 'It is a sacred chant, sung only when a Time Lord dies.'
Sarah gave her an anguished look. 'Isn't there anything you can do?'
Suddenly Maren spoke. 'Only the Elixir of Life can save him.'
'And we have none,' said Ohica.
Maren seemed to come to a decision. She rose and hobbled slowly across to the bronze gates, unlocked them and flung them open. Fiery and beautiful, the sacred Flame burned strongly in its bowl of rock. Maren lifted the silver chalice from its resting place and looked inside. A few precious drops of the Elixir had formed on its rim. 'A little Elixir has formed, Ohica—a very little. Yet perhaps it may be enough to save the Doctor.'
Ohica hesitated. 'But your own need, High One. Unless you have the Elixir soon... It will take too long for more to form...'
'Take it,' commanded the imperious old voice. 'I grow weary of stagnation, Ohica. The Doctor was right. It is time there was an end—a change...'
Ohica took the chalice, leaned over the Doctor, and poured the few precious drops it contained into his mouth. The Doctor licked his lips, then said distinctly, 'Stewed apricots... what, no custard?' He started to sit up, and Sarah rushed to hug him. The Doctor smiled. 'I know, Sarah, I know you thought I was dead again.' He smacked his lips. 'Great stuff, that Elixir. Fortunately, a little goes a long way!'
They heard Ohica scream, 'Maren, no!'
Sarah turned to see that Maren was actually standing in the basin of the Sacred Flame. The Flame played around her, like a fountain, and she stood smiling in the middle of it. For a moment she changed into a beautiful young woman, smiling and erect. The Flame roared up, concealing her, and when it died down the basin was empty. Ohica bowed her head. 'Maren has sacrificed herself to the Flame.' She picked up the bronze key from the floor, and closed and locked the gates.
Still a little unsteady, the Doctor said, 'Was that the last of the Elixir?'
Sarah nodded. 'You'd have died without it.'
Ohica came towards them, and the Doctor said simply, 'I'm sorry...'
'It was ordained,' said Ohica quietly. 'Maren died as she had chosen.'
'And Morbius?'
'The Monster too is destroyed. We owe you our thanks, Doctor. Without your help...'
Hurriedly the Doctor rose to his feet. 'Please, no speeches of gratitude,' he said modestly. 'Sarah and I have to be on our way, don't we, Sarah?'
'Oh yes,' agreed Sarah. Karn was one place she couldn't wait to be away from—and the quicker the better.
The Doctor marched her across to the TARDIS, and unlocked the door. 'Say goodbye to the Sisters, Sarah.'
'Goodbye, Sisters,' said Sarah obediently.
'Goodbye, Sisters,' echoed the Doctor. He unlocked the TARDIS door, then paused to fish something from his pocket and hand it to Ohica.
Ohica stared in amazement at the two brightly coloured cylinders. 'What are these, Doctor?'
'One Thunderclap, one Mighty Atom,' replied the Doctor cheerfully. 'Just in case you have any more trouble with the chimney!' And he ushered Sarah inside the TARDIS.
Ohica was peering closely at the cylinders. 'There is some ancient writing here, Doctor,' she called. 'What does
it say? Is it a Time Lord spell?'
The TARDIS doors were already closing, but the Doctor's voice floated clearly from inside. 'Light the blue touch paper and retire immediately...'
The doors closed, there was a wheezing groaning sound, and the TARDIS faded away.
DOCTOR WHO AND THE BRAIN OF MORBIUS Page 10
