Huddled behind the shelter of the Auton’s body, Liz and the Doctor waited, as the line of other Autons swept over and past them. Liz’s nose was no more than an inch from the Auton’s outstretched arm. She looked at the big hand – it was the left one, the one without the gun – and shuddered at the blunt fingers with no fingernails. Then the Doctor tugged her to her feet.
‘We’ve done it, Liz,’ he whispered exultantly, ‘we’re behind the enemy lines.’ With the battle raging behind them, Liz and the Doctor ran for the now unguarded door to the Restricted Area.
Once they were inside, both stopped in amazement. The room seemed to be empty. It was dominated by the vast coffin-shaped tank. Inside the tank something enormous heaved, and seethed and bubbled.
Liz looked up at the Doctor. ‘There’s something alive in there,’ she said. ‘Oh yes,’ said the Doctor mildly. ‘I rather thought there would be, you know. It was the logical next step. You remember, poor Ransome told us about it.’ The Doctor sounded pleased to have his theories confirmed. To her amazement Liz saw that his face showed not fear, but a sort of detached scientific curiosity.
‘Now, I wonder…’ said the Doctor, and he walked round the tank as if contemplating a swim in it.
‘Doctor, you’re not going in there,’ said Liz, as the Doctor dragged over a crate to stand on.
‘Someone’s got to, you know. Our friend in there is the key to everything.’
‘Quite right, Doctor. But your discovery has come too late.’ Channing stepped from behind the tank, and stood facing them.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said the Doctor. ‘There’s a saying on this planet that it’s never too late.’
Channing looked at the Doctor. ‘You speak as if you are not one of the humans.’
‘As a matter of fact, I’m not.’
‘I thought as much when you first came here. Your mind has a different feel to these humans. There are depths in it I cannot reach.’
The Doctor said: ‘Like you, I am not of this planet. But I didn’t come here of my own choice. Why did you come?’
‘We are Nestenes. Our purpose is conquest – always. We must spread the Nestene mind, the Nestene consciousness throughout all the galaxies.’
‘We?’ asked the Doctor keenly. ‘You speak for all your people?’
‘I am all my people,’ said Channing simply. ‘We are the Nestenes. We are all one.’
‘A collective brain, a collective nervous system, is that it? And as far as Earth is concerned, all housed in that life form in the tank?’
‘Exactly so!’ said Channing. His voice rose to an exultant shout. ‘Would you like to look upon the true form of the Nestenes, Doctor – before you die?’
The fluid in the tank heaved and bubbled in a final convulsion. The whole side of the tank shattered open, as the Doctor and Liz leaped back.
Standing towering over them was the most nightmarish creature Liz had ever seen. A huge, many-tentacled monster something between spider, crab and octopus. The nutrient fluids from the tank were still streaming down its sides. At the front of its glistening body a single huge eye glared at them, blazing with alien intelligence and hatred.
The Doctor stood peering up at it with an expression of fascinated interest. ‘Remarkable,’ he said. ‘Quite remarkable.’ Then he shouted: ‘Now, Liz!’
But just as he spoke the Nestene monster lashed out with one of its many tentacles and began to drag the Doctor towards it. Liz switched on the power-pack. Nothing happened.
‘Now, Liz! Now!’ the Doctor shouted urgently. Again Liz flicked the controls, and again there was no result. Liz realised that when the monster grabbed the Doctor, the lead connecting the Doctor’s machine to her pack had been pulled out.
The monster was dragging the Doctor closer and closer. He struggled frantically as a second slimy tentacle wrapped itself round his throat, beginning to throttle him. Liz ducked under the creature, scrabbling for the other end of the lead. She grabbed it and began to plug it in. Angrily, yet another tentacle wrapped round her, but with a final desperate effort Liz managed to jam the lead into its socket.
Immediately, there was a hum of power from the Doctor’s machine. As Liz turned the power up to its highest notch the Doctor shoved the microphone-shaped transmitter up to the single blazing eye. Immediately, the monster gave a single agonised howl that seemed to shatter Liz’s eardrums. The tentacles holding Liz and the Doctor lost their power and they fell to the ground.
Then, as they watched, the hideous creation that had housed the Nestene mind began to blur and dissolve. It seemed to melt away before them like a wax model in a blast of fierce heat.
Finally there was nothing left but a sort of vast spreading puddle of thick, slimy liquid. For a moment that single eye remained floating in the puddle, glaring its hatred at them to the last. Then it, too, dissolved. The Nestene was dead.
Liz and the Doctor picked themselves up. The Doctor saw Channing, face downwards where he had fallen. He turned the body over. Like Scobie’s Replica before him, Channing now had the crude blank features of an Auton. The Doctor looked up. ‘Nothing to be frightened of, my dear,’ he said gently. ‘It’s only a waxwork.’
A minute or two before, as Liz was struggling to reconnect the Doctor’s machine to the power-pack, Brigadier Alastair Lethbridge-Stewart had resigned himself to the end of a not-inglorious military career. He and his men had fought a gallant rearguard action across the factory, many being blasted to extinction by Nestene energy-bolts in the process. The few left alive were now trapped in an angle of the factory wall, under a deadly crossfire from two groups of advancing Autons. The Brigadier cut an advancing Auton in two with a savage burst from his sub-machine-gun. The gun emptied itself, and the Brigadier automatically reached for another magazine from his belt. But the belt was empty. Another Auton appeared in front of the Brigadier, its wrist-gun aimed at point-blank range. The Brigadier gazed into the nozzle of the gun, waiting for the final blast. Then, to his amazement, the outstretched arm seemed to wilt before his eyes. It drooped, and the Auton crashed to the floor. All around, the other Autons were collapsing too.
Suddenly there was silence. Powder smoke drifted in low clouds through the still air of the factory. The Brigadier and his few remaining men looked at each other in astonishment, scarcely able to believe that they were still alive. A voice cut through the silence. ‘Brigadier! Where are you, Brigadier!’ came the Doctor’s voice impatiently. ‘Are you all right?’ The Brigadier ran for the Restricted Area.
Liz and the Doctor waited in the doorway. Behind them the Brigadier could see some kind of nasty oozy mess spreading over the floor. Tired but happy, the Doctor surveyed the scene. Behind him was the shattered tank, the dissolved monster and the remains of Channing.
In front of him the bullet-shattered factory, the collapsed Autons, and the soldiers who had died holding them back.
‘Glad to see you’re all right, Doctor, Miss Shaw,’ said the Brigadier.
‘I’m not sure if I am yet,’ said Liz shakily.
The Doctor put a comforting arm round her shoulders. ‘I think we’ve won, Liz,’ he said gently. ‘But the price has been very high.’
It wasn’t until they were safely back at UNIT H.Q. that they realised it was really all over. When the Nestene monster had died at the plastics factory, Autons all over the country had become instantly lifeless, as harmless as the waxworks they resembled. Much damage had been done, and many lives lost. But gradually the country was pulling itself together again, and soon a return to normal life would begin.
In the UNIT laboratory the returned warriors were celebrating in mugs of strong, sweet army tea. Proudly the Doctor was explaining the workings of his machine.
‘Basically, it’s a sort of ECT machine – electro-convulsive therapy. Only much more powerful. You see, the Nestenes were held together and animated by that one central brain. In a sense they were all literally part of one vast creature. A creature that could split itself up, put fracti
ons of its consciousness into different forms. It put just a tiny bit of itself into the Autons. Just enough so that they could move and think, in the simplest possible way. They weren’t really alive at all.’
Liz shivered. ‘They were alive enough for me!’
The Doctor took a swig of his tea and went on. ‘It put a bit more of itself into the Replicas. They could pick up and reproduce the pattern of a human brain, and give quite a good imitation of a human being.’
‘What about this fellow Channing?’ asked the Brigadier.
The Doctor rubbed his chin. ‘I think it put a tremendous amount of itself into Channing. He was the advance guard. He could think, and plan. I think he could even feel, in a way, though his emotions weren’t really like ours.’
‘And that creature in the factory?’ Liz asked.
‘Well, since the Nestenes are really just one creature,’ the Doctor explained, ‘I suppose it was more comfortable for them to have the part of them that was here all in one body. When Channing really got organised at the factory he set about creating a suitable receptacle. And as soon as it was ready they transferred all of themselves, or rather all of itself, all its vital energy, from the meteorite state into that one collective brain.’
‘Putting all their eggs into one basket?’ said the Brigadier.
‘Just so,’ said the Doctor. ‘And by giving the creature a kind of brain-storm, you might say I kicked over the basket.’
‘You said “the part of them that was here”, Doctor,’ said Liz. ‘You mean there’s more of it?’
‘Oh, I should think so,’ said the Doctor cheerfully. ‘I don’t suppose the Nestene brain risked all of itself on this planet.’
The Brigadier said: ‘Then they might try again?’
The Doctor looked thoughtful. ‘It’s possible. But they’ve had a pretty severe setback. And since they seem to communicate by telepathy the rest of the Nestene brain will know how badly they were defeated here.’
Liz said practically: ‘Do they know how limited the range of UHF waves are? You practically have to stand on their toes for that thing to work.’
The Doctor nodded. ‘That is something I hope they haven’t learned.’
The Brigadier said: ‘Doctor, if the Nestenes do decide to launch a second attack, can we rely on your help again?’
The Doctor gave him a quizzical look. ‘Do I take it that you’re satisfied that I’m not an impostor?’
‘Oh, I think so,’ said the Brigadier. ‘Two things combined to convince me, actually.’
‘Oh, yes?’ said the Doctor curiously.
‘The brilliance of your scientific results was one,’ said the Brigadier.
‘And the other?’ said the Doctor, with a modest smile.
‘Your uniquely, aggravating temperament,’ the Brigadier said crisply. ‘There couldn’t be two like you anywhere, Doctor. Your face may have changed, but not your character!’
For a moment the Doctor looked offended, then he caught Liz’s eye and grinned.
The Brigadier went on: ‘I am prepared to offer you the post of UNIT’s Scientific Adviser – since Miss Shaw here doesn’t seem to want it. What do you say?’
The Doctor looked thoughtful. ‘I really think we ought to discuss terms first, old chap.’
‘Terms?’ said the Brigadier. Liz could tell from his voice that he thought the honour of working for UNIT should be reward enough.
‘Terms?’ the Brigadier said again. ‘Well, I think you’ll find the salary adequate.’
‘My dear chap, I don’t want money,’ said the Doctor indignantly. ‘Got no use for the stuff.’
The Brigadier looked puzzled. ‘Then what do you want?’
‘Facilities to repair the TARDIS! Equipment, a laboratory, somewhere to sleep. Oh, and I insist that Miss Shaw stays on here to help me.’
He looked appealingly at Liz. So did the Brigadier.
‘Well, Miss Shaw?’ he said.
Liz took a deep breath and then nodded. ‘I must be raving mad,’ she said. ‘But all right. If you really want me to.’
The Brigadier said: ‘There you are, then, Doctor.
Anything else?’
‘Good heavens, yes! Do you realise I’m stranded here with nothing more than I stand up in?’ The Doctor looked guilty. ‘Come to think of it, most of that isn’t really mine. Oh dear, and there’s that car, too.’ He looked appealingly at the Brigadier. ‘You know, I really took to that car. It’s got character.’
‘No, Doctor,’ said the Brigadier firmly. ‘The car must go back to its owner.’
The Doctor sighed. ‘Yes, yes, I suppose it must. But there’s no reason why you shouldn’t find me another one like it, is there?’
The Brigadier looked as if he was about to explode when the Doctor said gently: ‘It would help to persuade me to stay, you know.’
‘Oh, very well,’ growled the Brigadier.
Liz couldn’t help smiling at the Doctor’s air of childlike pleasure.
‘Oh good,’ he said happily. ‘When can I go out and choose it?’
‘Not just yet,’ said the Brigadier patiently. ‘At the moment you have no official existence, Doctor. I must fix you up with a full set of papers first.’ He turned to go, and then stopped. ‘By the way, Doctor, I’ve just realised. I don’t even know your name.’
The Doctor looked from the Brigadier to Liz Shaw. All in all he was quite looking forward to his stay on Earth. Naturally, he wouldn’t be there for long. In spite of the Time Lords he’d soon manage to get the TARDIS working and be off on his travels. For instance, he could try reversing the polarity of the neutron flow in the dematerialisation circuit…
He was brought out of his daydream by the Brigadier’s voice. ‘Well, Doctor?’
Ah yes, a name… he thought. Just for the time he was here. No question of telling them his real name, of course. Time Lord names have an almost mystic importance, and are usually kept closely-guarded secrets. Anyway, they’d never be able to pronounce it. A name… thought the Doctor. Something simple, dignified and modest. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself. The Doctor’s eyes brightened. He’d got it – the very thing! He turned to the waiting Brigadier.
‘Smith,’ said the Doctor decisively. ‘Doctor John Smith!’
DOCTOR WHO AND THE AUTON INVASION
Between the Lines
Doctor Who and Terrance Dicks had a busy year in 1974. The conclusion of the eleventh season in June, script edited by Dicks, saw the departure of Jon Pertwee’s Third Doctor and his replacement by Tom Baker. A few days before Baker’s debut story, ‘Robot’ (written by Dicks), began in December, the Doctor made his West End debut in Seven Keys to Doomsday – also scripted by Dicks. And the Target division of Universal-Tandem Publishing followed its republication of three 1960s novelisations the previous year with the first two new titles on Thursday 17 January, one by Malcolm Hulke, the other by Terrance Dicks.
Doctor Who and the Auton Invasion and Doctor Who and the Cave Monsters retold the first two adventures of the Third Doctor, ‘Spearhead from Space’ and ‘Doctor Who and the Silurians’, which had been broadcast four years earlier, between 3 January and 14 March 1970. Malcolm Hulke novelised his own scripts, but Terrance Dicks was adapting the work of Robert Holmes, which he had script edited. The interior illustrations (used in this edition) were by Chris Achilleos, who also drew the cover artwork.
This new edition re-presents that 1974 publication. While a few minor errors or inconsistencies have been corrected, no attempt has been made to update or modernise the text – this is Doctor Who and the Auton Invasion as originally written and published. This means that the novel retains certain stylistic and editorial practices that were current in 1973 (when the book was written and prepared for publication) but which have since adapted or changed.
Most obviously, measurements are given in the then-standard imperial system of weights and measures: a yard is equivalent to 0.9144 metres; three feet make a yard, and a foot is 30 centimetres;
twelve inches make a foot, and an inch is 25.4 millimetres.
Although he stuck very faithfully to the narrative of the television episodes, Terrance Dicks took the opportunity to greatly extend the characterisation, expanding certain scenes and filling in background detail for several of the story’s protagonists. Notably, he includes a prelude, adapted from scenes featured at the conclusion of ‘The War Games’, Patrick Troughton’s last serial as the Second Doctor. It had been five years since this story had been seen on UK television, so it was important to give younger readers a succinct explanation of exactly why the Doctor spends the first half of the story in a hospital bed, unrecognised by the only man he knows. This recap of the Doctor’s trial replaces televised scenes showing staff at a UNIT tracking station monitoring the incoming ‘meteorites’.
The coincidence of the Doctor’s arrival in the midst of this meteorite shower is strengthened by having poacher Sam Seeley witness not just the landing of the Nestene spheres but also the materialisation of the TARDIS. A scene in which Seeley is stopped by a UNIT patrol in Episode 1 is replaced with Seeley escaping discovery by a nervous soldier in the third chapter. Dicks adds colour to the relationship between Seeley and his wife in Chapter 3, and gives an insight into the poacher’s dreams of fame and fortune in Chapter 5. Similarly, he gives the senior hospital staff a range of fearsome reputations and rivalries barely glimpsed on screen. At the plastics factory, Harry Ransome (John Ransome on TV) and George Hibbert’s partnership is more thoroughly explored, with a description added of the electronic talking doll, even giving it a few lines sadly denied to its television counterpart. And readers get a glimpse of Hibbert’s discovery of the first Nestene sphere and his subsequent manufacture of – and domination by – Channing. Mullins the hospital porter, General Scobie and even the shortlived police officer who dies in the first wave of Auton attacks in Chapter 10 are each given extra moments – aghast at the effects of a call to the press, yearning for a straightforward cavalry charge, longing for a holiday – that could not be incorporated into the TV episodes.
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