by Gerry Davis
Along the walls on the far side were control desks with levers, dials, blank TV monitor screens and arrays of hieroglyphic figures, coils of fine wires, and everywhere, on the floor, festooning from metal wall to metal wall, long linking cables. In the middle control console, a thin arrow, like the hand of a clock, stood in a circle of blocks of letters and numerals.
'Just look at this,' breathed Victoria.
Around the room above the computer controls, marched a gigantic procession of Cyberman bas-reliefs. As large as the Cybermen themselves, glistening in the slightly phosphorescent metal, they loomed in frightening order. A march of exactly similar beings.
As Victoria's space-torch shone on to first one then another, they seemed to move, to bulge slightly towards her and then sink back as her torch found the next one.
Cybermen marched across space between planets, they marched over a rubble of tiny crushed people, they climbed out of their long cigar-shaped spaceships, and, in one bas-relief, two whirling worlds spun so close to each other they seemed to clash.
'That was the last time we had the pleasure of their company,' said the Doctor. 'They lived on the "Tenth Planet", Mondas, then.'
'Pleasure!' began Jamie. 'What's the pleasure in those...'
Victoria stopped him, placing her finger on his lips—she was quicker than Jamie in understanding when the Doctor was speaking ironically.
In the gloom of the other side of the control room, they could hear Professor Parry's voice, scholarly, assured, in his element: 'These controls are of their earlier dynasties,' he was saying. Haydon and Viner were leaning with him, close over the dust-covered metal and stone.
Where they were standing the console certainly looked clumsier, with attempts at decorated columns like early television sets and cables thick as boa-constrictors. Over one of them stood the bas-relief of an early Cyberman, something remarkably like a normal human being.
'Yes, in those dynasties they still had many human traits...' continued the Professor, staring at the ancient carved figure as if it could tell him the truth about what happened when a man changed to a Cyberman. Although it was human, already the figure had a pose as stiff as the Cybermen and already it was encased in metal and plastic. But you could see the shape of human muscles in the thighs and calves, and there was still a face behind the helmet, although a blank face. What had that man thought? Had he realised what was already happening to him—the transition from man to machine?
'Primitive, Cyberman Level Nine,' murmured Viner. 'You can tell by his artefacts.'
'Not so very early by the look of it!' exclaimed Haydon in excitement. 'Look, it's already got the ancillary breathing apparatus!'
'I'm quite capable of making my own deductions, thank you,' snapped Viner, never off his guard against someone beating him in the scholarly race.
'Suit yourself,' shrugged Haydon, unperturbed. He moved on to the next bas-relief and its console and computer, and was immediately absorbed in the marvellous problems and solutions it offered him.
'This must be the central control,' he heard Parry say, and the group moved across to the main console. 'Yes. The latest. This is the one that activates the whole of Telos.'
The Doctor and his companions followed him over. The console was the magnificent centre-piece of the high metallic hall, like the high altar of a cathedral. Haydon had rigged up an emergency lamp that gave an eerie yellow light to the whole apparatus.
On the other side of the control console, Klieg, Kaftan and Toberman were standing. They looked along the massed arrays of levers, buttons and colour-coded panels trying to relate it to their own Earth computers.
'There may be danger here,' said Klieg.
'Don't worry, I do not fear,' came Kaftan's beautiful. voice, 'with Toberman to guard me—why should I?'
She looked round and lowered her voice. 'What is more important,' she whispered, 'is to keep an eye on these strangers.'
'I tried to get rid of them,' answered Klieg loudly, 'told them they were not wanted here.'
'Shsh,' whispered Kaftan, touching him gently on the arm. 'Eric! Keep your voice down, you will achieve nothing by shouting.'
He looked back at her attentively.
'You look after the Doctor,' she whispered. 'You know what I mean?'
He nodded. 'I will watch the girl,' she continued.
'And the Scots boy?' whispered Klieg harshly. He had taken a dislike to Jamie's belligerence.
'Leave him to Toberman,' Kaftan smiled at the dark giant. 'Eh, Toberman?'
Toberman smiled and lifted his great hands as if clutching them round Jamie's neck.
'But you will be careful and discreet,' added Kaftan to Toberman, looking at him intently with her beautiful eyes. 'Understand?'
'I understand,' nodded Toberman.
They moved over to join the others by the console. Kaftan smiled to herself to see the open wonder with which Victoria and Jamie stared up at it.
'What is it?' Jamie was saying. 'Is it an altar to some heathen god?'
'Something like that,' said the Doctor.
'But what does it do?' asked Victoria. 'I can't see any cogwheels or turbines—how can it work?'
Doctor Who glanced at her, pleased with her intelligent engineer's question. 'It does have "cogwheels and turbines" of a sort, Victoria,' he said. 'But very advanced ones. Too advanced even for our archaeological friends here. And yet, I don't know, that's strange...' he added to himself. He was looking at the central control panel, with its clock-like dial and oddly arranged collection of numbers and symbols. They were all symbols the Doctor knew from his twentieth-century experience on Earth.
'What's wrong, Doctor?' asked Jamie, belligerent because he was feeling nervous among all these machines hundreds of years ahead of his time.
'I don't know, Jamie. But it's very strange,' mused the Doctor. Then he drifted away from the central console and started examining the wall, first with his space-torch and then with his fingers, leaning against the wall and tapping, crouching down and examining every inch of the surface with a magnifying glass.
'Ahem,' came from the centre of the vast room. It was a scholarly clearing of the throat and could have come only from the Professor. 'Ahem. Now that we are all here, perhaps we had better take stock of the situation. This appears to be a dead end,' he said. 'The only way down appears to be through that hatch.' He pointed to a central hatchway beside the console. It resembled the conning tower of a submarine with a massive circular hatch—closed as securely as a bank vault.
'Are there no doors into the interior of the mountain?' asked Kaftan.
'Apparently not—apart from the entrance door,' said the Professor.
'And, of course, the other two, you were going to say!' added the Doctor quietly, as if to himself.
'I beg your pardon?' The Professor swung round rapidly. The others stared at the Doctor, their suspicions aroused again. Who was this strange man and how much did he know?
'Sorry to interrupt,' murmured the Doctor. He turned back to resume his examination of the walls.
'Two other doors?' asked Viner angrily. 'Impossible!'
'One in this section,' said the Doctor, pointing, 'and one in that.' He pointed to walls which to the others seemed unbroken. 'Activated, I should imagine, from this logical system here,' said the Doctor.
He strolled towards the central console, studied it for a moment and pressed a few buttons experimentally. Nothing happened.
'Ah, well,' he said, 'if at first you don't succeed, try another way!'
He tentatively pulled one lever halfway down, studying the complex dials which had begun to flicker. 'Yes, yes, a simple logical gate—splendid! Splendid!' Excitedly he pulled two more of the sliding levers up to full.
On the right side of the control console there was a stir in the Cybermen figures on the apparently unbroken wall, and as a large panel slid aside, a black gap appeared.
There were exclamations from the assembled party as the Doctor quickly moved to the o
ther side of the console and reproduced the same sequence with the levers. Another panel with its embossed Cybermen figure slid aside revealing a corridor on the far side of the central room.
'You seem very familiar with the place, Doctor,' said Klieg with an edge in his voice.
'I hardly needed to be,' said the Doctor. 'There must be doors here—the problem was merely to find them. You see, this system is based on a symbolic logic. The same as you use on computers. The opening mechanism for these doors—you call it an OR gate, don't you?'
'Yes, yes, I can see that,' said Klieg, impatient with this suggestion that he didn't know his maths. 'But how did you know in the first place?'
He went over close to the Doctor and looked insultingly into his face as if daring him to a fight.
'I used my special technique,' said the Doctor calmly.
'Really, Doctor?' asked Klieg sarcastically, his black jowl set close up to the Doctor's face. 'And may we know what that means?'
The Doctor stood opposite Klieg, casual, his hands in his baggy frock-coat pockets. The other men were silent, scenting trouble, Iooking from the heavy-built scientist to the slight figure of the Doctor.
'Keeping my eyes open and my mouth closed,' the Doctor answered.
The tension broke, the men relaxed. Haydon laughed, and even Kaftan caught herself smiling at Klieg's furious expression.
Parry stepped between them before Klieg could answer. 'Ahem,' came the scholarly throat clearing again, until he had their attention. 'Now. We are far too many to explore together. I think we had better divide up. If you, Mr Viner, will explore with—er—' He looked at the red-haired Scot, not knowing what to call him.
'Ma name is Jamie.'
'Thank you. And Mr Haydon will take the other passage.'
'What about us?' asked Victoria, immediately suspecting the worst.
'You ladies had better remain here,' said the Professor.
'Fiddlesticks!' said Victoria, no longer the shy Victorian miss she seemed to be. 'We can make a party, can't we?' she said eagerly to Kaftan.
'Certainly,' replied the woman, smiling at the girl's eagerness. 'With Toberman with us, we need have no fear.'
Victoria didn't say that they need have no fear even without Toberman. She came from a lively Victorian family, brought up by an unconventional, scientist father, and it didn't really surprise her to find there were fuddy-duddies in future centuries as well, who thought women always needed men to protect them. What they needed were brains, and, if necessary, weapons, she thought to herself. But she was pleased that Kaftan was coming with her. She had been very struck by Kaftan's great beauty and self-assurance, and the way even the truculent Klieg seemed to defer to her.
'Very well,' said the Professor, a little upset that even the youngest member of the group challenged his orders. 'Very well. Then Mr Klieg, would you take the ladies along with you?'
Klieg looked over at the Doctor suspiciously. 'If he is going to stay here—then I shall stay also,' he said.
'Oh, as you wish,' said the Professor, angrily. 'Then, the women will go with Mr Viner. Now we must all be back at the space craft by,' he glanced at his space-time watch, '16.30.'
He looked around. 'Now you all know about the temperature drop at night. So we'll meet back here at 15.30. If anyone is missing that will give us an hour to look for them before we have to leave.'
'Right,' said Viner, who had been fidgeting impatiently. 'Come along then,' he said, 'we'll take the left-hand opening.'
He walked quickly over to the left-hand gap in the wall, eager to explore. Kaftan turned to Victoria and smiled.
'We'd better keep close together,' she said, and put out her hand to take Victoria's.
'I'm all right, thank you,'. said Victoria, not taking her hand.
'Goodbye, Doctor.' She walked beside the sinuous Kaftan into the darkness of the doorway followed by Toberman. The Doctor watched her go a little thoughtfully.
'Come on then, young Jamie,' said Haydon. 'We'll take the right side.'
The two of them walked into the gloom of the right-hand doorway.
'Good,' said the Professor. 'Now we can concentrate on getting into this hatchway—or whatever it is.'
He moved over to the well and observed it carefully. 'This hatch must lead somewhere and there must be an opening mechanism.'
They stood beside the metal conning-tower hatch and looked at the central control panel.
'What about this, Doctor?' Professor Parry said.
But the Doctor was standing in his most casual pose with his hands in his baggy pockets; leaning against the hatch.
He shook his head. 'No. No ideas this time, I'm afraid. Besides,' he said, giving a colleague's polite bow, 'I think it's time Mr Klieg had his chance to show his skills.'
Klieg glared at the Doctor. He went over to the control panel and stared at the symbols.
'I always love to watch an expert at work,' said the Doctor, smiling innocently.
5
The Recharging Room
The dark doorway that had swallowed up Victoria and Kaftan led to a short black corridor. Viner's brisk march slowed to a cautious walk.
'Look—' Viner pointed to where the passageway ended: no door, just the arched entrance to—what? He went through, cautiously, followed by Victoria and Kaftan. It led to a large square room, lofty but not so vast as the great control room they had just left. Viner shone his torch around the room. A shape loomed ahead of them. What was it? An open coffin? A torture machine like an iron maiden? In the light from their space-torches they could make out an upright form like a great chrysalis or mummy case, hollow, with two human-shaped doors, gaping open.
'That is big enough to hold a Cyberman!' came in awe from Kaftan. Victoria realised that it was a case that would fit round one of those giant Cyberman figures like a violin case. It was big enough to hold a creature three metres tall. At the top were powerful cables leading into a smaller version of the console in the main control room, set on the opposite wall to the entrance.
'What kind of room is this?' asked Victoria, and her voice seemed too loud in the listening silence.
'I don't know,' said Viner with scholarly exactitude. 'Possibly this is where the Cybermen were made.'
'Made!' exclaimed Victoria in horror, staring at the great hollow shape looming over them.
'Well, they changed their arms and legs into bionic limbs. This is probably where they put a Cyberman together and charged him with these bio-projectors.' He touched one of the hose-like projectors—arms on the inside of the cabinet. 'Especially the brain: note the thickness and number of cables to the brain area.'
Victoria put her hand to her head as if it were in danger of being invaded by metal cables. When she had joined the Doctor electricity was only something that her father argued fiercely about over the after-dinner port whenever Dr Faraday came to dinner. Faraday didn't like carrots, she remembered.
'Where is Toberman?' said Viner suddenly.
'I sent him to join the others. We do not need his protection now that you are with us, eh?' said Kaftan. Viner looked up suspiciously, scenting sarcasm, but the woman smiled warmly at him.
'Now,' said Viner, clearing his throat in imitation of Professor Parry. 'Everything must be carefully measured and recorded.' He took out a notebook and a blunt pencil.
Victoria gave a slight scream. Viner dropped his pencil.
'What on earth is the matter now?' he snapped irritably.
'Can't you see?' she said. 'We don't need the torches. It's getting lighter.'
The walls of the room had taken on a faint glow, Iight enough to make out the details of the room without torches.
'What is it?' asked Kaftan.
'It must be...' Viner struggled to understand. 'Some kind of phosphorescent quality in the walls,' he said. 'It must be reacting to the light from these torches.'
'Now, please.' He turned abruptly and pushed Victoria out of the way of the console. 'You're getting in, my way! If you'
d just go over there somewhere. Not where I'm working.' He pointed vaguely over to the Cyberman form.
'Oh, fiddle,' snapped the quick-tempered Victoria. She went over to the Cyberman case and as she got close to its smooth hollow, could not resist putting her hand inside and touching its finely ribbed interior.
'Could this not be the purpose of the room?' asked Kaftan.
'A Cyberman would stand in that form and be—well—revitalised. No? That must be it.'
Viner looked at her with respect. 'Yes, of course!' he replied eagerly. 'That is most reasonable. These bioprojectors—' He pointed to the hose-like projections around the Cyberman form. 'They were probably meant to fire in some sort of neuro-electric potential. Yes, that's it. Not making Cybermen so much as revitalising them. Re-charging their batteries, you might say.' He paused, but they didn't laugh at his little joke. 'Yes, that's it, Madam. I think you're right.'
Victoria was now standing right inside the Cyberman sarcophagus, measuring her size against the nozzles of the bio-projectors.
'The Cybermen must have been giants!'
She ran her hands over the gleaming cool surfaces.
'Will you please be careful and come out of there,' remonstrated Viner like a schoolmaster. 'The first rule of archaeological work is that nothing must be touched until it has been described and recorded.'
Victoria reluctantly stepped out. He turned back to his notebook.
'Now, please, we have far too little time here to waste any. Cable number three runs from point four in the diagram to cowl three,' he said forcing himself to concentrate. Victoria, like a little girl, made a face at his back, stepped back into the Cyberman form and again ran her fingers along its tantalising inner surface.
Kaftan glanced at Viner to make sure he was fully absorbed. She quickly examined the controls, worked out which should logically be the main switch and pressed it down. Nothing happened. Victoria stood, idly humming, in the Cyberman form, and Viner, lost to the world, was niggling away in his notebook. Kaftan waited. But no beginning click or hum responded to the switch. The controls were dead.
