Doctor Who: The Three Doctors

by Dicks, Terrance

  Jo smiled, and waved airily. ‘Just drive around, my good man!’

  And drive around they did. Bessie climbed valiantly up the low hills, and lurched down into the hollows. It was better riding than walking, but they soon began to feel that they weren’t achieving much. Since everywhere was so exactly the same, there seemed little point in moving at all. The Doctor halted the car on top of one of the higher dunes. Jo stood up and looked around. The view in every direction was exactly the same. ‘Oh what’s the use,’ she sighed. ‘We could wander round here for ever – there’s nothing to see.’

  ‘Oh yes there is,’ said the Doctor suddenly. ‘Look!’ He pointed. Halfway up the side of one of the dunes a line of footprints began. They led over the top of the dune and out of sight. The Doctor climbed out of the car. ‘Come on, Jo. We’ll follow them on foot. Better get a look at whatever it is before it sees us.’

  They followed the trail of the footprints up the dune down the other side, and then over the next dune. Suddenly the Doctor stopped. ‘Listen, Jo.’ From the other side of the dune was coming a low, obsessive muttering. The Doctor motioned Jo onwards and they followed the footsteps towards the source of the sound. As they came closer, Jo could hear what the voice was saying. It was talking to itself in a quiet, reasonable tone,

  ‘E = MC2. I mean, there’s no doubt about that, is there? But if you equate gravitation with acceleration, I must have travelled here faster than light. And that’s impossible, by definition.’

  Jo and the Doctor peered over the top of the dune. Stretching ahead of them was a sea, a dull grey sea that was hard to distinguish from the land. And sitting cross-legged on the shore, idly tossing pebbles into the water, was a short sturdy figure, talking to himself in a steady, reasonable monotone.

  It was Dr Tyler, the man who had started the whole thing when he brought them his orange-coloured box.

  Excitedly Jo called, ‘Dr Tyler!’ and ran towards him, the Doctor following close behind.

  Tyler was almost pathetically glad to see them. Words poured out of him in a flood. ‘It’s Miss Grant, isn’t it – and the Doctor? How did you get here? Same as me, I suppose. I was in your lab, and I’d just developed that plate, then – bingo! Fascinating place this. Lonely though. And quiet! I’ve been talking to myself, just to hear a human voice. I don’t suppose you know where we are, Doctor?’ he ended hopefully.

  The Doctor rubbed his chin. ‘Well, only in a general way. We’re at the other end of your streak of space-lightning, transported through a black hole. We’re in a stable world in a Universe of anti-matter. An anomaly within an impossibility.’

  ‘Oh yes?’ said Jo faintly.

  Tyler grinned. ‘What the Doctor means is that a place like this shouldn’t exist in a cosmos like this, and even if it does, we shouldn’t be here anyway. Right, Doctor?’

  ‘Well – something like that. But we are here. Kidnapped – and marooned.’

  Tyler nodded, his face grave. ‘Aye – and who by, that’s what I want to know.’ He looked round cautiously. ‘There’s things here, you know. Creatures.’

  Instinctively Jo drew closer to the Doctor. ‘What kind of – things?’ she asked nervously.

  Tyler drew a deep breath. ‘Well, they’re man-shaped. In a nasty, blobby sort of way, that is. Made of some sort of jelly stuff. I’ve seen ’em moving about. Managed to dodge ’em so far though. They seem to be searching.’

  Jo tugged at the Doctor’s sleeve. ‘Those things that attacked UNIT…’

  The Doctor nodded. ‘We’ve encountered them too, Dr Tyler. They seem to be servants of whoever’s behind all this. They were searching, you say? Probably for us!’

  ‘I think they’ve found us, Doctor,’ said Jo.

  The Doctor and Tyler looked up. The dunes above them were lined with the blobby figures, motionless and waiting. Instinctively the Doctor shouted, ‘Run, all of you!’

  Before they could move, one of the figures raised a shapeless hand, and the ground exploded at their feet. They ran the other way, and more explosions sprang up to bar their path. Soon they were held, trapped, in a circle of flames. They stood helplessly, waiting, as the hideous, shapeless creatures shambled closer.

  Once again the President and the Chancellor stood in the Temporal Control Room, watching the screen which showed the picture of the black hole in space. It seemed larger, deeper now, as if preparing to swallow up the whole of the Universe.

  The President said, ‘It grows more powerful moment by moment. It swallows up all the energy we can send against it, draining away our very life.’

  The Chancellor returned to his grievance. ‘Yet you still waste the little power that remains to us with this ridiculous operation of yours concerning the Doctor. Not only that, you transgress the First Law of Time.’

  The President sighed. Still this niggling insistence on rules, while everything was crashing around them.

  ‘In such an emergency, my lord Chancellor,’ he began.

  ‘No emergency can justify such transgression. The operation must cease.’

  In tones equally determined the President countered, ‘The operation must continue. It is now our only hope. We can do nothing for ourselves but hold off the disaster a very little longer. The Doctor has gone to the source of the evil. Perhaps there he can…’

  ‘The source?’ interrupted the Chancellor sharply. ‘How is that possible? What is the Doctor’s current situation?’

  The President smiled wryly. ‘It depends which Doctor you mean. The earliest incarnation, the oldest can do no more than advise. The power was too low for a full incarnation. The second is still on Earth, assisting with the situation there.’

  ‘And the third?’

  ‘He has allowed himself to be transported through the black hole, to fight the evil at its source.’

  The Chancellor looked at the screen again, at the gaping black mouth that threatened to swallow the stars. He turned back to the President, a gleam of triumph in his eyes. ‘He has gone – there? Through the black hole? Beyond the Absolute Event horizon, where the laws of science no longer apply?’

  Grimly the President nodded.

  The Chancellor said, ‘Then your rash experiment has already failed. The Doctor is dead!’

  5

  A Shock for the Brigadier

  DOCTOR TWO CAREFULLY adjusted the last of a series of reflectors and focused it on the blob. It was now ringed by a circle of reflectors, each one connected to the amazing conglomeration of electronic equipment the Doctor had assembled. It was obviously some kind of force-field generator, thought Benton, though how it worked, and what it did, he couldn’t begin to guess.

  Doctor Two plugged the whole thing into one of the special heavy-duty wall-plugs, and threw a switch. Immediately, fierce blue electric sparks leaped between all the generators. The blob was literally ringed with fire. It thrashed wildly for a moment, and extruded a tentacle. As it touched one of the sparks, the tentacle whipped back, and the blob crackled, almost with a note of pain.

  ‘Sorry, old chap,’ said Doctor Two seriously, ‘but we can’t have you wandering about.’

  Benton felt no such sympathy. ‘Can’t you step up the power, Doctor? Fry the wretched stuff once and for all?’

  ‘Certainly not. What would we learn from that?’

  Benton privately thought they might not learn much but he for one would feel a good deal safer.

  The Brigadier came in and looked at the Doctor’s work approvingly.

  ‘Got it pinned down, eh, Doctor? Well done. I’ve another little job for you now.’

  Doctor Two looked at him suspiciously. ‘Oh yes?’

  ‘Chap from the Government has turned up. Wants a full explanation of what’s been going on.’ The Brigadier coughed. ‘I’m leaving it all to you.’

  ‘All right. But won’t he think it strange – seeing me, I mean?’

  ‘I’ve explained all that. You’re the Doctor’s assistant.’

  The second Doctor drew himself up
to his full height, such as it was, and said indignantly, ‘Now see here, Brigadier…’

  The Brigadier held up his hand. ‘No use fussing, Doctor. The truth would be too much for him. Assistant it will have to be.’ He held open the door. ‘Come along now.’

  Doctor Two hovered indecisively. ‘But I’ve just set up my apparatus. I’ll be able to confuse the stuff now.’

  ‘No doubt,’ remarked the Brigadier drily. ‘Confusion seems to be your forte. But that will have to wait. You’re sure that stuff’s safe now?’

  ‘Oh yes. We’ve got it thoroughly tamed, haven’t we, Sergeant?’

  Benton nodded, a little dubiously. The Brigadier turned to him, ‘In that case you’d better stay here and keep an eye on it, Benton.’

  Benton nodded, resignedly. ‘Yes, sir.’ He’d expected something like that.

  The second Doctor pressed a remote-control dial into Benton’s reluctant hand. ‘You’ll need this, old chap. You see, it’s graded, 0 to 100.’ Doctor Two turned a little dial, and Benton saw the figures on the indicator change from 50 to 51, 52… ‘0 would set the thing free – 100 would destroy it. Keep the setting in the middle range and you’ll be all right.’

  The Brigadier bustled the second Doctor out of the laboratory, and Benton was left alone with the blob. He had developed an almost personal hatred for it and he walked round it, surveying it dubiously. It had reverted to its original size, about that of a large football. It heaved and quivered and crackled faintly. Benton couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that it was watching him, waiting its chance. He glared at it threateningly and said seriously, ‘Just you watch it, mate. If you so much as twitch at me, you’ll get the works.’

  The blob seemed to quiver and pulsate with rage. It gave an angry crackle, as if in reply to his threat. ‘Right,’ said Benton sternly, and turned up the dial on the remote-control unit. 53, 54, 55… The blob quivered even more fiercely. To Benton’s horror it started to grow. In a matter of minutes, it had doubled in size. Benton twisted the dial frantically, sending the reading up into the 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s… Fierce blue sparks from the reflectors blazed all round the blob, but they seemed only to encourage it. It grew larger still. Now the dial was at 100, and still the thing grew. It crashed its way free of the reflectors and lurched towards Benton. He retreated into a corner yelling, ‘Doctor, Brigadier, come back.’

  The Doctor, who was having a very unsatisfactory conversation with a sceptical Government V.I.P. in the Brigadier’s office, heard the shouts and ran straight out of the room. With a look of mute apology, the Brigadier followed. The V.I.P. was extremely indignant, and decided to turn in an unfavourable report on the Brigadier as soon as possible.

  When Doctor Two ran into the laboratory, the Brigadier close behind him, the jelly-blob had Benton cornered, and was stretching out a menacing tentacle. As soon as the second Doctor entered it turned away from Benton and started menacing him. Cautiously he backed away. The blob pursued him, hissing and crackling.

  Benton seized his chance, ducked out of his corner, and slipped past the blob to join the others. All three made for the door, but the blob anticipated their move, flowing swiftly across the doorway to cut off their retreat.

  His eyes fixed on the blob, Doctor Two edged towards the TARDIS. He produced his key and quickly opened the door. ‘Inside, both of you!’

  ‘Oh no, you don’t get me in your box of tricks,’ said the Brigadier firmly. Not bothering to argue, Doctor Two grabbed him, and with a show of surprising strength virtually threw him inside. Benton followed and the Doctor ducked inside the TARDIS just as the jelly lashed out menacingly.

  He shot across to the console, closed the door and, muttering ‘Force-field, force-field, force-field,’ started the TARDIS ticking over. Then he collapsed against the console with a sigh of relief. (So frantically had he been rushing to get the force-field working, that he failed to notice when his beloved flute dropped from the top pocket of his coat, rolled across the console, and dropped somewhere inside the inner workings of the TARDIS.)

  Doctor Two switched on the scanner, and he and Benton watched the blob, now swollen to such an enormous size that it almost filled the laboratory. ‘I did what you said, Doc,’ Benton said reproachfully. ‘But it only made the thing worse. Seemed to make it stronger, not weaker.’

  The Doctor wrinkled his brow and scratched his head. Suddenly he slapped his brow in a gesture of despair. ‘Of course! We were dealing with anti-matter. All my calculations should have been reversed. We weren’t calming it – we were stimulating it!’

  The Brigadier was staring around him with an air of polite interest. ‘Do you know, Doctor,’ he said suddenly, ‘this thing seems to be bigger on the inside than on the outside?’

  ‘Well, I had noticed. You see it’s dimensionally transcendental and—’

  ‘Never mind your scientific mumbo jumbo, Doctor. Some kind of optical illusion,’ the Brigadier said shrewdly. ‘All done with mirrors, I dare say.’

  The Doctor was searching his pockets. ‘You haven’t seen my flute anywhere, have you?’

  ‘What are you talking about, Doctor?’

  ‘My flute – wooden thing about so long, with holes in it.’

  ‘Never mind your wretched flute. Let me out of this contraption.’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t do that. You’d never make it across the room.’

  He pointed to the scanner screen. The entire laboratory was filled with a vast pulsating mass of jelly, which was beginning to flow out into the corridors.

  The Brigadier was frantic. ‘Doctor, you’ve got to let me out. I must warn the men.’

  Doctor Two shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, it’s impossible.’

  Benton produced his walkie-talkie. ‘Why don’t you call them up on this, sir?’

  Somewhat annoyed that he hadn’t thought of this himself, the Brigadier took the set from Benton and snapped, ‘This is the Brigadier. Does anyone read me?’

  There came an answering crackle and a voice said, ‘Communications room here, sir. Corporal Palmer. Where are you, sir?’ There was a note of panic in the voice as it went on, ‘Sir, that jelly stuff’s on the move again. It seems to be filling the entire building. What do we do?’

  ‘Evacuate,’ ordered the Brigadier. ‘Everybody outside, a safe distance from the building. Form up on the hill, and wait further instructions. Brigadier out. Oh, just a minute.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘See that chap from Whitehall gets away safely, will you? Make my apologies and tell him our appointment will have to be unavoidably postponed.’ The Brigadier switched off the walkie-talkie. ‘Well, Doctor, what next?’

  The Doctor was still fishing round in his many pockets. ‘We sit, and wait and think, I’m afraid. Would you care for a gobstopper?’

  He produced a grimy paper bag, offered it to the Brigadier (who rejected it rather irritably) and said, ‘I wish I could find my flute. I think best to music.’

  Benton, who was still watching the scanner screen, said, ‘Doctor, the picture’s changing. It’s that old bloke again.’

  Doctor Two rushed to the screen and saw the features of his first incarnation glaring at him disapprovingly. ‘Well,’ said the sharp old voice, ‘made any progress?’

  Doctor Two sighed, and decided to own up. After all if you can’t be honest with yourself… ‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘None whatsoever. How are our fellow Time Lords?’

  ‘Getting steadily weaker. They can’t seem to check the energy loss.’

  ‘Is there anything I can do to help? I’d welcome your advice.’

  ‘Turn off the TARDIS force-field.’

  Doctor Two looked horrified. ‘But that would mean—’

  ‘Well of course it would,’ interrupted the old Doctor querulously. ‘But I’m afraid it may be the only way. Surely you can see that? Use our intelligence!’ And with that, the lined old face faded away. The rampaging jelly-blob filled the scanner once again.

  The second Doctor stood slump
ed by the scanner, his face grave and resigned. Benton said, ‘You’re not going to do it, are you, Doctor – turn off the force-field?’

  ‘Oh yes, I think so.’ He nodded towards the scanner. ‘He told me to. And I’ve always had great respect for his advice.’

  The Brigadier looked at him in perplexity. ‘Am I correct in thinking, Doctor, that if you cut off the force-field, that stuff out there can get at the TARDIS?’

  Doctor Two said cheerfully, ‘Absolutely correct. Hold on, everyone!’ Before they could stop him, he reached out and switched off the force-field.

  Immediately a series of tremendous jolts started to shake the TARDIS, sending it lurching from side to side. There was a final tremendous jolt, and the TARDIS seemed to spin in mid-air, throwing its occupants about like dice inside a shaker. They crashed against walls, floors and ceiling, and everything went black.

  Corporal Palmer had received the Brigadier’s order to evacuate with the greatest relief. He lost no time in carrying it out. For the second time that day the UNIT H.Q. staff poured out of the building at top speed, forming up on the overlooking hill. A very angry Whitehall V.I.P. had been whizzed back to London in his limousine, and now Palmer and the rest of the UNIT troops were watching the main building, wondering what would happen next. Palmer thought he was prepared for anything. But he was wrong. The jelly-like substance, now swollen to fantastic volume, could be seen pouring through the empty building. Empty, that is, except for those trapped inside the TARDIS. Soon every room in the building was filled with the heaving, crackling mass. The stuff was even rising outside the outer walls, until the outlines of the entire building were obscured by the glistening blob.

  Palmer made another attempt to get through on his walkie-talkie. ‘Brigadier, this is Corporal Palmer. The evacuation is now complete. Are you still all right? Shall we mount a rescue attempt?’