DOCTOR WHO AND THE CAVE-MONSTERS

by Malcolm Hulke

  Liz said nothing. They roared along, not speaking, until the road went along at the foot of the rising ridge of land. In a very determined way Liz said: 'It's that track over there.' She pointed to a gravel road that led up the hill from the main road.

  The Doctor slowed down, reaching for the map again. 'Well, better be safe than sorry.'

  'Over there!' she screamed. 'That rough track. I've studied the route thoroughly.'

  The Doctor stopped the car, then turned gently to Liz. 'Do I irritate you?'

  'No, Doctor,' Liz said. 'You are the most thoughtful and considerate scientist I have ever worked with!'

  He beamed, taking her quite seriously. 'How very kind of you. I hope that our association together will be a long and happy one.'

  Liz closed her eyes to stop herself from screaming again. 'Yes, Doctor,' she said quietly, 'let's hope it is.'

  The Doctor drove slowly up the winding gravel track. Towards the top of the hill they came to a high electrified fence that went all the way round the hill. A gate was set in the fence with a sign that read: 'RESEARCH CENTRE—GOVERNMENT PROPERTY—KEEP OUT.' Security guards were standing by a little hut next to the gate. One of them came up to the visitors.

  'Government property,' the guard called. 'Sorry, you can't come in here.'

  'We are the government,' said the Doctor.

  Liz quickly got out their passes and showed them to the guard. The guard checked them, and handed them back. 'All right,' he said. 'Now give me the password.'

  Liz said, 'Silurians.'

  The guard was satisfied and nodded to his companions. They opened the gate. One of them called to the Doctor, 'Park that thing over there, then show your passes to the guards by the lift.'

  The Doctor turned furiously. 'What do you mean? "Thing"?'

  Liz pulled at his arm. 'It was a joke.'

  'I should jolly well hope so.' The Doctor put Bessie back into gear, and parked it where the guard had indicated. They crossed to a small concrete building with double sliding doors. Another guard checked their passes, asked for the password again, then pressed a button set in the concrete. The doors slid open, revealing a lift. Liz and the Doctor went inside. The guard grinned at them, shouted 'First stop—Australia' and pressed the button again. The doors closed, and suddenly the lift plummeted down into the earth. Liz gulped, then swallowed as her ears seemed to block up. After what seemed only a few seconds the lift started to slow in its descent, then came to a stop. The Doctor seemed impressed. 'I'd say that was about five hundred feet in three seconds,' he said. Liz just tried to keep her balance, and waited for the doors to open. When they opened a moment later it was to reveal the Brigadier standing waiting for them.

  'Terribly glad to see you, Doctor.' The Brigadier shook hands with the Doctor. 'And you, too, Miss Shaw. There's a meeting in progress now. This way.'

  The Brigadier strode off down a long metallic-walled corridor. The Doctor took long easy strides, behind the Brigadier. Liz had to run to keep up with them.

  'How deep is this place?' said the Doctor. 'And how long has it been built?'

  Without turning the Brigadier called back: 'Tell you all about it later. Turn right, here.'

  The Brigadier did a smart military about-turn at a T-junction of corridors. This brought them to double swing-doors with glass panels. The Brigadier held open one door, put his finger to his lips and said, 'Shhhh!' In a loud whisper he added, 'Take a pew.'

  They were in a large conference hall. It seemed as though all the men and women working in the centre were present. They were all listening to a sharp, clever-looking man who stood on a small platform. He was addressing them rather like a teacher with a class. As they found seats, the Brigadier leaned towards the Doctor. 'That's Dr. Lawrence, director of this place.' Liz prepared to listen.

  'We are already very considerably behind in our research programme,' Dr. Lawrence was saying. 'But I am determined we shall recover our lost ground and go on to make the new and important discoveries that lie ahead. Thank you very much for giving me your attention.' He stopped addressing his audience, and turned quizzically towards the Brigadier. 'Perhaps you could introduce your colleagues, Brigadier.'

  The Brigadier rose. 'Certainly, Dr. Lawrence. This is Miss Elizabeth Shaw, and this is the Doctor, UNIT's scientific adviser.'

  The scientists turned to look at the newcomers. The Brigadier continued, speaking now to the Doctor and Liz. 'This gentleman is Dr. Quinn, Dr. Lawrence's deputy in this establishment.'

  The Doctor turned and shook hands with the small, lean-faced Dr. Quinn. 'Very pleased to meet you,' he said. Quinn smiled, and returned the compliment.

  The Brigadier continued. 'This, Doctor, is Major Barker.' He indicated a big-built man with a square, ruddy face and close-cropped ginger hair.

  'Another scientist?' asked the Doctor.

  'Station security officer,' said Barker. 'Regular Army, retired.'

  The Doctor shook Barker's hand. 'They must be retiring people very young in the army these days,' the Doctor said, smiling.

  Barker looked embarrassed, and gave a quick glance to Dr. Lawrence, as though expecting Lawrence to explain why Barker had been retired from the army. But Dr. Lawrence just smiled, and changed the subject. 'You no doubt know the purpose of our work here,' he said to the Doctor.

  The Doctor said it had been explained to him, adding: 'You send a proton round and round in a tube, then try to hit it with sub-atomic particles.'

  'That's good,' laughed Dr. Quinn. 'You make it sound like a sideshow at a funfair!' Dr. Quinn spoke with the trace of a Scottish accent, and seemed the only scientist present with any sense of humour.

  Dr. Lawrence said: 'We are on the verge of discovering a way to make cheap atomic energy for almost every kind of use. We are developing a new kind of nuclear reactor, one that will convert nuclear energy directly to electrical power.'

  'That'll show 'em!' said the Brigadier.

  Everyone looked at the Brigadier, as though he had said something very silly. 'Show whom?' asked the Doctor.

  The Brigadier had to think for a moment. 'You know,' he said, 'foreign competitors. A discovery like this will make Britain great again.'

  No one seemed very impressed with this, although it made sense to Liz. The Doctor turned back to Dr. Lawrence. 'What's going wrong?'

  Dr. Lawrence explained that a lot of the people working for him had been taken ill, or had had accidents. But the biggest problem was the sudden loss of electrical power to make the cyclotron work.

  'Have you any idea what causes these losses of electrical power?' asked the Doctor.

  Major Barker spoke before either of the other had a chance to answer. 'It's sabotage,' he blurted out. 'A planned, deliberate programme of sabotage!'

  It was obvious that Dr. Lawrence had heard all this before from Major Barker. 'Really, Barker,' said Dr. Lawrence, his voice strained, 'we have already discussed that possibility. It seems most unlikely.'

  'Then why has UNIT been called in?' said Barker.

  Dr. Lawrence deliberately ignored the question, and turned to the Doctor. 'Look, since you and Miss Shaw have been sent to help us, how about seeing around the place?'

  'Delighted,' said the Doctor.

  'Good.' Dr. Lawrence turned to Dr. Quinn. 'You could give them a conducted tour. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get back to my work.' Dr. Lawrence hurried away.

  'Ready for the tour?' asked Dr. Quinn.

  The Doctor said he was, but first he asked what type of accidents people had had at the Centre. Again Major Barker blurted the answer. 'Stupid mishaps,' he said, his face reddening. 'Most accidents are the fault of the people who have them, and there is no exception here. But that's if they are real accidents,' he added in a sinister way.

  'Accidents or sabotage,' said the Doctor, 'no one has answered my question. What type of accidents have people had here?'

  'There was a poor fellow three weeks ago,' said Dr. Quinn, 'who nearly got electrocuted when the power came on ag
ain after a failure. And then three days ago there were the pot-holers.'

  'Pot-holers?' queried the Doctor.

  'The caves,' said the Brigadier. 'They attract pot-holers. Some of the people here do it in their spare time. Three days ago two of them had an accident—a bit of a mystery, really. A technician called Davis was killed, and his friend, Spencer, is still in the sick-bay here,'

  Dr. Quinn smiled. 'It's difficult to see any connection between a pot-holing accident and our power losses in the Centre.'

  'I agree,' said the Doctor. 'But we should look into everything.' He turned to Liz. 'While Dr. Quinn shows me the cyclotron, would you mind visiting this man Spencer in the sick-bay? I may be along later.' He turned back to Dr. Quinn. 'And now if you could show me the centre of operations...'

  Dr. Quinn took the Doctor out into the corridor. 'Where do I find the sick-bay?' Liz asked.

  'I'll take you there,' said Major Barker. 'This way.'

  Barker marched out. Liz turned to see what the Brigadier was going to do, but he had already settled himself at a desk and was using the telephone. She hurried after Major Barker. Barker marched like a soldier down one corridor after another, all windowless, all with the gentle hum of air-conditioning—air that was being sucked in from five hundred feet above. He stopped at double-doors on which were the words 'SICK-BAY'. 'I'll intro-duce you to Dr. Meredith,' said Barker, and held open a door. Liz entered a well-lit room with a desk, an inspection trolley of the sort you find in a hospital, and two doors leading off to other parts of the sick-bay. Seated at the desk was a good-looking young man writing a report. He looked up, a little annoyed, as Liz and Major Barker entered.

  'I wish you'd knock...' Dr. Meredith stopped short when he saw it was Liz, a stranger to him. Major Barker followed close on Liz's heels. 'Security check,' said Barker. 'No need to knock. This is Miss Shaw, from UNIT. Wants to see the loonie.'

  'My patient,' said Dr. Meredith, 'is under some kind of stress. He is not a lunatic.'

  'Swinging the lead, if you ask me,' said Barker. 'They all are.'

  'All?' said Liz.

  Dr. Meredith explained calmly. 'We've had an out-break of mild neuroses, psychosomatic ailments, and nervous breakdowns.'

  'People pretending to be potty,' said Barker, cutting in.

  Dr. Meredith ignored him. 'I'm afraid that I won't allow you or anyone to see our latest patient.'

  'Then I must insist!' The voice of Doctor Who boomed behind Liz. He smiled to Liz, spoke quickly and quietly to her. 'Just seen over their cyclotron. Very interesting clue there.' But before Liz could ask what the Doctor had discovered, the Doctor was addressing Dr. Meredith again. 'Miss Shaw and I have authority from UNIT to see what and whom we wish. I'm sorry to be so difficult, but you cannot refuse to let us see your patient.'

  Dr. Meredith got up. 'All right,' he said, 'but you do so at your own risk. Follow me, please.'

  Dr. Meredith opened a door leading to a small passage. Liz went first, then the Doctor. Major Barker was about to follow, but Dr. Meredith checked him. 'Just these two, if you don't mind.' He closed the door in Barker's face, turned to the Doctor and Liz. 'This way.'

  The young doctor led them down the passage. As they followed, the Doctor whispered quickly to Liz: 'There's a log book in the cyclotron room—they keep in it records of these mysterious power losses. But a vital page is missing, and I could see where it was torn out. The person who kept the log was Spencer, the chap we're going to visit.'

  Dr. Meredith stopped at the door to a private ward. 'I take it you know what happened to this patient?'

  Liz said: 'His friend had an accident in the caves and was killed.'

  'It's rather more peculiar than that,' said Dr. Meredith. 'Still, you'd better see for yourself.'

  Meredith opened the door and they went into a small, windowless private ward with one bed, a washbasin, and as always the faint hum of the air-conditioning. The bed was ruffled but empty.

  'Where's the patient?' Liz asked.

  Meredith had already crossed to the other side of the bed. 'Down here,' he said.

  The Doctor and Liz went round the bed to see where Meredith was pointing. The young man, Spencer, was squatting on the floor, crouching against the wall. Using a felt-tipped pen, he was drawing on the wall, putting the final touches to a picture of a sabre-toothed tiger. There were many other pictures drawn on the wall—buffaloes of a type extinct many thousands of years ago, mammoth elephants covered in fur, and strange birds with scales instead of feathers. In among the drawings of pre-historic animals were pictures of men-like figures, except different from men they had no visible ears and there was a third eye in the forehead. The Doctor knelt down and examined the drawings with interest, while Spencer now sat back on his haunches and grinned like a very small child pleased with his own drawings. Then the Doctor straightened up.

  'How long has he been like this?' he asked.

  'Ever since he was brought in here,' said Meredith. 'At first he was violent, and tried to throttle me. Then I realised all he wanted was something to draw on the walls with. So I gave him that pen. He's been as good as gold since then.'

  'Doctor,' said Liz, 'aren't those drawings like the ones at Lascaux?' Liz had once visited the famous caves at Lascaux in southwest France. Those French caves had been discovered by four schoolboys back in 1942. They were playing a hide-and-seek game, and one of them fell into a deep hole in the ground. He called to the others that he was in some sort of cave, so they scrambled down to see. To their amazement, they found themselves surrounded by drawings on the cave's walls—drawings of animals and hunters made by some Stone Age artist tens of thousands of years ago. The French government opened up the caves so that scientists, and later tourists, could see the remarkable wall drawings.

  The Doctor nodded in agreement, then turned to Spencer and pointed at one of the strange human-like figures in amongst the animals. 'What's this one, old chap?' he said in a kindly voice.

  Spencer looked where the Doctor was pointing. Then with wild eyes and a groan like a stricken animal, he leapt up from the floor and tried to grab the Doctor's throat. As the Doctor grappled with Spencer, Dr. Meredith jumped back in alarm. 'I'll get the guards,' he shouted, and made to open the door. But already the Doctor had Spencer's wrists held in a firm grip.

  Spencer leapt up from the floor and tried to grab the Doctor's throat

  'It's all right, old man,' said the Doctor. 'Calm down. No one is going to hurt you.'

  Just as suddenly as he attacked the Doctor, Spencer slumped back on the floor, cringing in a corner. Dr. Meredith tried to apologise for his patient. 'I'm terribly sorry about that. I thought we had quietened him down over the last couple of clays.'

  As they left the private ward, the Doctor turned to Dr. Meredith and said, 'Tell me about the other man, Davis, who was killed in the caves. Did you see his body afterwards?'

  'Naturally,' said Dr. Meredith. 'They were late getting back from their pot-holing, so we sent in a search party in case they were in trouble. When they found Davis's body, they sent for me immediately.'

  'What had killed him?' asked the Doctor. 'A fall of rock?'

  Dr. Meredith rubbed his chin. 'I suppose it might have been partly the cause. There was a livid gash down one side of the man's face, and that could only have been caused by a lump of rock falling from the roof. Even so, there was something odd about the wound.' Dr. Meredith stopped, as though he felt that what he had to say was too silly.

  'What sort of wound was it?' said the Doctor.

  'Like a claw mark,' said Meredith. 'You know what it's like if a cat scratches you. But this was a much bigger claw—a claw the size of a man's hand.'

  Liz said, 'A piece of rock could have jagged edges, like a claw perhaps?'

  The Doctor gave Liz a look to tell her to be quiet, and continued questioning Dr. Meredith. 'What did you put on the death certificate as "cause of death"?'

  'Under the circumstances,' said Dr. Meredith, 'I refused to issu
e one. There will have to be an inquest to decide on that. But if you want my opinion, the gash on the face couldn't possibly have caused death.'

  'Then what,' asked the Doctor patiently, 'did?'

  Again Dr. Meredith looked embarrassed by the answer he was about to give. He said, 'If you really want to know what I think, the man simply died of fright.'

  3

  The Traitor

  Miss Dawson was worried. She had been one of the first scientists selected by Dr. Lawrence to work at the re-search centre, and she was thrilled to get the job. All her life she had had to live in London, which she had come to detest, because of her elderly mother. Her brothers, older than her and all scientists, had got married and gone to live in America and Australia. Miss Daw on had been the one left at home to look after their ailing mother. True, she had had some interesting research jobs in London, but whenever she saw an advertisement for an electronic scientist needed abroad, or even in another part of Britain, her mother's health had mysteriously taken a turn for the worse. The years rolled by, and people stopped calling her a 'young woman' and said instead 'such a faithful daughter'. Sometimes she met men who seemed to want to marry her; but her mother always knew somehow, and promptly became ill again so that Miss Dawson even had to stay away from work to look after the old lady. In her heart Miss Dawson feared the moment when people would stop asking, 'Why don't you get married?' and replace it with the dread, 'Why didn't you get married?'

  Miss Dawson's mother had died, of incredibly old age, a year ago. At last free, Miss Dawson immecliately applied for, and got, this job at the research centre at Wenley Moor. Derbyshire wasn't exactly Australia or America, but at least it was some distance from London, and it was the start of her new life.

  At first her mind was filled with the excitement of the project. To turn nuclear energy directly into electrical power, without using a turbine in between, could bring enormous benefits to mankind. Really cheap electrical power would mean more factories, more hospitals, more everything in all the underdeveloped parts of the world. The research centre was the best equipped scientific establishment she had ever worked in. Her specific task was to release the atoms that raced round the cyclotron tube—a tube so large that the cyclotron room in which she worked was surrounded by the tube.