Doctor Who and the Auton Invasion

by Terrance Dicks

  Hurriedly, Sam replaced the earth over his find and moved away. He’d come back again when it had cooled down, in daylight. He set off for home.

  But Sam Seeley was in for an even more terrifying experience as he crossed the dark woods. Just as he came to a moonlit clearing, a strange wheezing and groaning filled the air. Sam slipped behind a tree and froze as still as any rabbit.

  Before his unbelieving gaze an old blue police box was appearing out of thin air. It took shape, becoming solid as he watched. The weird groaning sound died away and the box just stood there, looking sad and lost in the moonlit clearing. Slowly, the door started to open.

  Not daring to move, Sam watched as a man came out of the police box. A tall thin man, with a deeply lined face and untidy white hair. Terrified as he was, Sam noticed that the man’s old black coat and check trousers were both far too small for him.

  The man looked around as if in a daze. He looked straight at Sam, yet didn’t seem to see him. Frowning with concentration, the man produced a key and carefully looked the door of the police box behind him. Then he took a couple of wobbly steps and collapsed.

  At this Sam Seeley’s nerve finally broke. He crashed off through the woods, running for home like a man chased by demons.

  2

  The Mystery of the Meteorites

  Elizabeth Shaw was very angry indeed. It didn’t help a bit that the tall army officer sitting on the other side of his desk seemed to find her anger mildly amusing.

  ‘Now see here, General,’ she began angrily.

  ‘Just “Brigadier”, Miss Shaw. Brigadier Alastair Lethbridge-Stewart, at your service.’

  ‘Since you seem to be in charge of this silly James Bond outfit—’

  Again the Brigadier interrupted, this time sounding rather hurt. ‘I take it you’re referring to UNIT – the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce?’

  ‘I don’t care what you call yourselves. I’m just trying to make it clear to you that I’m not interested in playing secret agents with you. I happen to have a very important research programme under way at Cambridge.’

  The Brigadier looked through a file on the desk in front of him. ‘I’m well aware of your scientific qualifications, Miss Shaw. An expert in meteorites, degrees in physics, medicine and a dozen other subjects. Just the sort of all-rounder I’ve been looking for!’ The Brigadier sat back, stroking his clipped moustache with an infuriatingly self-satisfied air.

  Liz Shaw took a deep breath, and made a tremendous effort to control herself. ‘You scoop me up from my laboratories in Cambridge, whizz me down here in a fast car, and expect me to join some ridiculous spy outfit, just like that! Why me, for Heaven’s sake?’

  The Brigadier said, ‘We need your help, Miss Shaw. You’ll find the laboratory facilities here are really first class.’

  ‘And what am I supposed to do with them? Invent a better kind of invisible ink?’

  ‘I think you have rather a mistaken idea of our work here at UNIT. We’re not exactly spies, you know. If I could explain?’

  Liz realised that, in spite of her anger, she was really rather curious about what was going on. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘Just what do you do – exactly?’

  The Brigadier paused for a moment, obviously choosing his words with great care. ‘We deal with the odd – the unexplained. We’re prepared to tackle anything on Earth. Or even from beyond the Earth, if necessary.’

  Liz looked at him in amazement. To her astonishment he seemed quite serious. ‘You mean alien invaders?’ she said incredulously. ‘Little blue men from Mars with three heads?’

  ‘Early this morning,’ said the Brigadier, ‘a shower of about fifty meteorites landed in Essex.’

  Liz’s scientific curiosity was aroused at once. ‘Landed? Most meteorites don’t even reach the Earth’s surface. They burn up in the atmosphere.’

  The Brigadier nodded. ‘Exactly. But these didn’t.’

  ‘Were they exceptionally large?’

  ‘Rather small if anything. And they came down through a funnel of thin, super-heated air twenty miles in diameter – for which no one has been able to provide an explanation.’

  Liz frowned. ‘Some kind of freak heat-wave?’

  ‘Perhaps. But the temperature in that area was over twenty-eight Centigrade. A few miles away there was ground-frost.’

  ‘There must be an explanation,’ said Liz thoughtfully. ‘A natural one, I mean.’ She didn’t sound very convincing, even to herself.

  ‘I hope there is. I’ve cordoned off the area and I’ve got men searching now. But we didn’t find anything last time.’

  Liz looked up sharply. ‘Last time?’

  Grimly the Brigadier nodded. ‘Six months ago, a smaller shower of meteorites, five or six of them, landed in the same area.’

  ‘That’s impossible!’ said Liz. ‘The odds against two lots of meteorites landing in the same place must be enormous.’

  With some satisfaction the Brigadier looked at the girl in front of his desk. At last she was beginning to realise the true seriousness of the situation.

  Liz went on: ‘In fact the odds are so high as to be scientifically unacceptable.’ She stood up and paced about the office, thinking aloud. ‘So if we rule out coincidence, there can be only one other explanation. Those meteorites – both showers – must have been…’ Her voice tailed off as she couldn’t bring herself to say the final words.

  The Brigadier finished the sentence for her. ‘That’s right. The meteorite swarms must have been directed. Deliberately aimed at this planet.’

  In the reception hall of Ashbridge Cottage Hospital Captain Munro, of UNIT, was arguing with an irate casualty officer. Fortunately, Munro, a dark-haired, smoothly handsome young man, was something of a diplomat. He was used to smoothing down awkward civilians, and he answered all Doctor Henderson’s objections with infuriating politeness.

  In the background, two soldiers, Regular Army men on attachment to UNIT, waited patiently, carrying between them a stretcher on which lay a still, blanket-covered form.

  ‘Dammit man,’ said Doctor Henderson crossly, ‘why didn’t you take him to a military hospital?’

  Munro sighed. ‘For one thing, sir, there isn’t one in the area. And for another…’ Munro turned to the stretcher and pulled back the blanket. ‘As you can see, the chap’s obviously a civilian.’

  Henderson looked in amazement at the tall, thin figure on the stretcher. Coat and trousers were both far too small, leaving bony wrists and ankles stretching out in a scarecrow fashion. ‘Not a very military figure, I agree,’ admitted Doctor Henderson. ‘All right, I suppose I’d better take a look at him.’ He turned to the soldiers carrying the stretcher. ‘Take him through into Casualty, will you? The porter will show you the way.’ At a nod from Munro, the soldiers carried the stretcher through the swing-doors into the casualty ward.

  ‘You’ve no idea who he is, I suppose?’ asked Henderson. Munro shook his head. ‘Haven’t a clue, sir. There’s no identification on him, I’m afraid.’

  Henderson heaved a sigh. ‘You don’t realise the amount of paperwork these cases involve,’ he said wearily. ‘Reports to the police, memos to the Hospital Committee. All in triplicate.’

  Like any good soldier, Captain Munro knew when it was time to beat a retreat. ‘You really have been awfully good sir,’ he said smoothly. ‘I’m sure the Brigadier will be most grateful.’ Munro looked at his watch. ‘Which reminds me, I really ought to ’phone in a report. I wonder if I might…’

  ‘Over there,’ said Henderson, nodding towards a ’phone booth in the corner. ‘Mind you, this chap’s still your responsibility.’

  Munro didn’t commit himself. ‘Thanks again, sir,’ he said with his most charming smile. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me…’

  Hastily Munro disappeared inside the ’phone booth. Henderson, realising he’d been out-manoeuvred, turned and went through the swing-doors after his new patient.

  Back at UNIT H.Q., Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewa
rt was still trying to persuade Liz Shaw to accept the unbelievable.

  ‘Don’t you see, Miss Shaw, it’s just because everyone takes your attitude, refuses to believe the evidence, that the Earth is in so much danger.’

  ‘Why is Earth any more likely to be attacked now than at any time during the last fifty thousand years?’ said Liz obstinately.

  ‘Isn’t that obvious? Space probes, rocket launches, men on the moon…’ The Brigadier leaned forward, his voice urgent. ‘We have drawn attention to ourselves, Miss Shaw.’

  Liz sank back into her chair. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘but I just can’t swallow it. I admit I’ve got no explanation for your meteor swarms – but invasion from outer space!’

  For a moment the Brigadier was silent, then he seemed to come to a decision. ‘And if I were to tell you that to my personal knowledge there have been two attempts to conquer the planet Earth, both by intelligent life forms from beyond this galaxy?’

  All Liz could do was stare at him open-mouthed. He’s cracking up, she thought wildly. Over-work probably. Been reading too much science-fiction. The Brigadier was still talking, quietly and calmly, apparently very much in control of his wits.

  ‘UNIT was formed as a direct result of the first attempt. And I am proud to say that it played a very large part in preventing the second invasion.’

  ‘Well done,’ said Liz faintly. She wondered if she ought to start heading towards the door, before the Brigadier suddenly decided she was a Martian spy.

  The Brigadier seemed lost in his memories. ‘Though, of course, we weren’t alone. We had help. Very valuable help.’ He looked up and smiled. ‘To be perfectly honest, Miss Shaw, you weren’t my first choice for the post of UNIT’S Scientific Adviser.’

  Despite herself, Liz felt a bit resentful. ‘Oh? And who was then?’

  ‘A man called “the Doctor”,’ answered the Brigadier.

  ‘Doctor?’ said Liz. ‘Doctor who?’

  The Brigadier chuckled. ‘Who indeed? I don’t think he ever told us his name. But he was the most brilliant scientist I have ever met. No disrespect, Miss Shaw.’

  ‘So why didn’t you get this mysterious genius to be your Scientific Adviser, instead of practically kidnapping me?’

  ‘Don’t think I didn’t try,’ said the Brigadier ruefully. ‘Unfortunately, he tends to appear and disappear as he pleases. I tried to get hold of him when they decided we needed a resident scientist. The Intelligence services of the entire world were unable to turn up any trace of him.’

  ‘So you decided to make do with me?’

  And a great success you’ll make of it, I’m sure,’ said the Brigadier. Liz couldn’t help smiling at the compliment. Despite his stiff military manner, there was something very likable about the Brigadier.

  The ’phone on the Brigadier’s desk buzzed, and with a gesture of apology to Liz the Brigadier picked it up.

  ‘Munro here, sir,’ said the voice at the other end. ‘I’m at the Ashbridge Cottage Hospital.’

  ‘Have you found any trace of those meteorites?’

  ‘No sir. All we’ve found so far is one unconscious civvie. I’ve just turned him over to the local hospital.’

  ‘Captain Munro,’ said the Brigadier acidly, ‘if you’ve nothing better to report than the finding of a drunken tramp sleeping it off in the woods, I suggest you get off the ’phone and get on with the search.’

  ‘The chap wasn’t drunk sir. Half-dead more like it. And I don’t think it was a tramp. Weirdest thing you ever saw, sir. A police box slap in the middle of the woods, and this fellow lying spark-out beside it.’

  ‘A police box?’ said the Brigadier. ‘You did say a police box?’ His voice was suddenly eager and excited.

  ‘That’s right, sir,’ said Munro cheerfully. ‘Suppose I ought to tell the police, really. I mean they may want the thing back.’

  The Brigadier’s voice was brisk. ‘On no account, Munro. I want an armed guard on that police box right away. Nobody’s to be allowed near it. Nobody! Is that clear?’

  ‘Yes sir,’ said Munro automatically. ‘But I don’t quite understand, sir…’

  The Brigadier’s voice cut in. ‘This man you found. You say he’s at the hospital?’

  ‘In Casualty now sir. The Doctor’s taking a look at him. The man seems to be in a sort of a coma.’

  ‘Right,’ said the Brigadier crisply. ‘Armed guard on him too, Munro. Nobody’s to talk to him till I arrive.’

  ‘Very good sir,’ said Munro, by now thoroughly puzzled.

  ‘I’ll come down right away. Oh – and Munro, I’ll be bringing our new Scientific Adviser with me. Meanwhile, keep the patrols searching.’

  The Brigadier slammed down the ’phone and sat for a moment lost in thought. ‘It can’t be,’ he said, almost to himself. ‘But a police box! And it would be just like him, turning up like that out of the blue.’

  ‘Just like who?’ said Liz, now thoroughly curious.

  The Brigadier grinned. ‘Come and see for yourself. I’d like you to come down to Essex with me right away.’

  ‘But why? What’s going on?’

  ‘That,’ said the Brigadier, ‘is exactly what I hope to find out. If my chaps do turn up any of these meteorites you’ll be able to do an on-the-spot examination. And I want to see this man they’ve found for myself. Shall we go?’

  Liz Shaw hesitated for a moment. She realised that this was her last chance to insist on her rights, to refuse the ridiculous hush-hush job she was being offered and return to the quiet, sane, sensible world of scientific research.

  ‘Shall we go, Miss Shaw?’ repeated the Brigadier.

  Liz looked at him and saw the appeal behind the formal manner. Suddenly she realised that the Brigadier really was worried, that he really did need her help. Why me, she thought, why me? There must be heaps of people better qualified.

  But she also realised that she was now much too caught up in this mysterious business of invading alien forces, intelligent meteorites and mysterious men with police boxes, to draw back now. If she did, she’d be torn with curiosity for the rest of her life. She got up and strode to the door which the Brigadier was holding open for her. ‘Come along then, Brigadier,’ she said briskly, ‘what are we wasting time for?’

  The Brigadier stood astonished as Liz strode past him and marched off down the corridor. Then, deciding not for the first time that he would never understand the ways of women, he hurried after her.

  3

  The Man from Space

  In a small private room, Ashbridge Cottage Hospital’s latest arrival lay motionless on the bed. Henderson stood over him, his face a picture of astonishment. He’d expected all along that the new arrival would mean trouble. But not this kind of trouble. Hovering as it seemed between life and death, the new patient was showing reflexes and reactions that Henderson had never encountered before.

  Henderson looked up eagerly as a nurse entered with a batch of X-ray plates. Surely these would throw some light on things. The nurse looked at the still figure on the bed. ‘How is he, Doctor?’

  Henderson turned away to look at the X-rays. ‘I only wish I knew,’ he said honestly. The nurse leaned over the patient, automatically smoothing the pillows and straightening the sheets. The man on the bed was quiet and still, scarcely breathing. She studied the still features for a moment. It was a strange face. Sometimes it seemed handsome and dignified, sometimes quizzical, almost comic. The seams and wrinkles, the shock of almost white hair should have made it an old face, yet somehow there was a strong impression of energy and youth.

  Suddenly the nurse drew back in amazement as two very blue eyes flicked open, and studied her with interest. Then solemnly one of them winked. Both eyes closed and the man seemed to subside into his coma.

  ‘Nurse!’ Henderson’s voice made her jump. It was cold with anger. ‘Would you mind coming over here, please?’

  The nurse trembled. Like all the other nurses in the hospital, she was terrified of Hender
son and his sharp tongue. What could be wrong now, she thought. Maybe those idiots in radiology had sent up the wrong plates. Whatever it was, she’d be the one to get the blame. Inwardly quaking, she crossed to where Henderson was examining the X-rays on a lighted stand. ‘Is there anything wrong, Doctor?’ she said, trying to keep her voice calm.

  Henderson pointed to the X-ray. ‘You have, I take it, studied the human anatomy as part of your training?’

  The nurse sighed. ‘Of course, Doctor.’

  Henderson jabbed a quivering finger at the X-ray plate. ‘Then perhaps you would be kind enough to tell me what that is?’

  She followed the direction of the finger. ‘It’s the patient’s heart, Doctor.’

  Henderson’s finger moved across to the other side of the plate. ‘Then what’s this, then, eh? What’s this?’ By now he was so angry that his voice came out only as a sort of strangulated shriek.

  The nurse, now completely terrorised, leaned forward and peered nervously at the X-ray. Then she drew a deep breath. ‘It appears to be another heart, sir.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Henderson grimly. ‘Another heart. And that, as we know, is impossible, isn’t it, nurse? Now then, which of your jolly medical student friends is responsible for this little prank, eh?’

  The nurse struggled to control her quavering voice. ‘I don’t know, Doctor, honestly. All I did was wait till the plates were ready and bring them back to you.’

  Henderson studied her narrowly and saw that she was much too terrified to be relating anything except the truth. As always, he regretted his quick temper. ‘All right,’ he said gruffly, ‘probably wasn’t your fault. But someone in that X-ray Department is playing games with me, and I’m going to find out who it is.’ He was about to stride from the room when the internal ’phone bleeped. The nurse picked it up. An angry voice said in her ear: ‘This is Lomax. Pathology Lab. Is Doctor Henderson there?’