Jo glanced up at the Doctor. 'Things must be pretty serious then.'
'They are, Jo. Very serious indeed. The whole of the Universe is in danger!'
The most amazing DOCTOR WHO adventure, in which Doctors One, Two and Three cross time and space and come together to fight a ruthlessly dangerous enemy - OMEGA. Once a Time Lord himself, now exiled to a black hole in space, Omega is seeking a bitter and deadly revenge against the whole Universe...
ISBN 0 426 11578 3
A Target Book
Published in 1975
by the Paperback Division of W.H. Allen & Co. Plc
44 Hill Street, London WIX 8LB
Copyright © 1975 by Terrance Dicks
Original script copyright © 1973 by Bob Baker and Dave Martin
'Doctor Who' series copyright © 1975 by the British Broadcasting Corporation
Printed and bound in Great Britain by
Anchor Brendon Ltd., Tiptree, Essex
ISBN 0 426 11578 3
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
DOCTOR WHO
THE THREE
DOCTORS
* * *
Based on the BBC television serial by Robert Baker and Dave Martin by arrangement with the British Broadcasting Corporation
* * *
TERRANCE DICKS
published by
The Paperback Division of
W. H. Allen & Co. Ltd
CONTENTS
1 Lightning from Space
2 Attack from the Unknown
3 The Menace of the Black Hole
4 Beyond the Unknown
5 A Shock for the Brigadier
6 In the Hands of the Enemy
7 Door to Freedom
8 Escape from Omega
9 'All things shall be destroyed'
10 Return through the Flame
11 Three Doctors Minus Two
1
Lightning from Space
For an adventure that was to be one of the most astonishing of the Doctor's very long life, it all began very quietly. It started, in fact, with a silvery-grey balloon, drifting peacefully out of the blue morning sky to land on the flat marshy ground of an Essex bird sanctuary. Hanging from the balloon was a bright orange box, about the size and shape of a car battery.
The box bumped along the ground as a gust of wind caught in the balloon. Then its attaching wires caught fast in a clump of trees, and sent a flock of starlings shrieking into the sky.
On the other side of the trees a stocky grey-haired man, in anorak and rubber boots, paused to listen. Arthur Hollis was the warden of the Bird sanctuary, and he knew at once, by the note of outrage in the starlings' voices, that something unusual had happened. He made his way round the trees, and saw the brightly coloured box swinging to and fro like a stranded parachutist. He walked up to it cautiously. As he got closer he saw thick black letters on the side of the box. They read: 'Reward! Please Contact Dr. Tyler.' An address and telephone number followed. Hollis rubbed his chin. He didn't like mysterious obiects turning up in his bird sanctuary.
The sooner it was out of there the better. He copied the telephone number on a scrap of paper. Suddenly the box crackled. Hollis jumped back. He looked at it cautiously. Nothing happened. Shaking his head suspiciously, Hollis gave the box a last distrustful glare and set off for his cottage.
Several hours later, a battered and muddy Land Rover jolted down the bumpy lane to the bird sanctuary. It was driven by a tubby, fair-haired little man in an old duffle-coat. He pulled up outside the Warden's cottage and got out.
A pleasant-looking middle-aged woman in an apron came down the cottage path. 'Dr. Tyler, is it ? From the University?'
Tyler nodded. 'That's me. Sorry to be a trouble. Thanks very much for calling—'
The woman interrupted him, her voice a little anxious, 'That old box of yours is just through the trees there.' She pointed across the fields to a small hill. Tyler could just see the silver-grey of the balloon as it caught the sunlight. 'My Arthur's keeping an eye on it for you,' she went on. 'He hasn't touched it. Not chemicals, I hope? Only, it's the birds, you see. He took his shot-gun in case it was dangerous.'
Tyler shook his head vigorously. 'No, nothing like that. Just instruments. Thanks very much, Mrs. Hollis, I'll go and find your husband.' He set off towards the trees at an eager pace. As he approached the hill, he called out, 'Mr. Hollis! Mr. Hollis!'
He saw Hollis appear over the brow of the hill, wave and point downwards. The box was obviously on the other side, just out of sight.
Vastly relieved that the mysterious object would soon be off his hands, Hollis decided to speed the process by unhooking it from the tree, where it was still swinging gently to and fro. It took him only a moment to free the clamps attaching the box to its wires, but the box was surprisingly heavy, and as he took the full weight of it he stumbled forwards, and fell on top of the box as it hit the ground. There was a sudden fierce crackle, a flash of light, and Arthur Hollis vanished.
Tyler came puffing over the hill. The balloon still flapped about in the tree top, the box rested at the foot of the tree. But of Arthur Hollis there was no sign. Tyler looked round unbelievingly. He'd seen the man just a minute ago. And there was nowhere he could be hiding—just flat, empty fields all around. Tyler walked up to the box and looked at it. Just the familiar type of instrument box he'd handled a hundred times before. Heaving it up, he clasped it to his chest and set off for the cottage at a stumbling run.
Later that day, the box was sitting on a laboratory bench while Tyler, for what seemed the hundredth time, explained what had happened.
'So there you are. Mrs, Hollis says her husband's with the box, I see him wave, get there, and there he is—gone! So I phone the police, and they whizz me off to see you lot.'
Tyler looked round at his audience. There were three of them. A very small, very pretty, fair-haired girl. A tall man with a clipped moustache, wearing the uniform of a Brigadier. And an even taller man, flamboyantly dressed in a velvet smoking-jacket and ruffled shirt, who seemed to be known only as 'the Doctor'.
Brigadier Alastair Lethbridge-Stewart, head of the British section of the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce (UNIT for short), beamed approvingly. 'Quite right too, that's what we're here for—eh, Doctor?'
The Doctor gave him an enigmatic look and said nothing. Jo Grant, the Doctor's assistant, was examining the box that was the centre of attention. 'Dr. Tyler,' she asked suddenly, 'what's it for?'
The Brigadier frowned at her disapprovingly, and then realised he didn't really know the answer himself. He looked at Tyler enquiringly.
The little man seemed surprised that anyone should need to ask. 'Cosmic-ray research, of course.' He gave the box a tap. In there is the most sophisticated cosmic-ray monitoring device between here and Cape Kennedy.' He flashed them a sudden, disarming grin. I ought to know because I knocked it up myself from odds and ends in the lab. As a matter of fact...' Tyler hesitated awkwardly.
The Doctor gave him an encouraging smile. 'As a matter of fact, what?' he asked gently.
'Well, I'd been meaning to get in touch with somebody official anyway, even before this business.'
'And why was that?'
Tyler took a deep breath, then seemed to come to some kind of decision. 'Pass me that briefcase, will you, young lady?' Jo Grant passed over the bulging briefcase Tyler had brought with him, staggering u
nder the unexpected weight. Tyler fished out a sheaf of papers, all mixed up with what looked like X-ray prints. 'We've been getting some pretty amazing results on these latest tests.' He sorted out one of the prints and handed it to the Doctor, who held it up to the light. Jo peered at it too. All she could see was a scattering of tiny white spots against the darkness of the negative.
'There's an early one, d'you see,' said Tyler. 'Just your average-density cosmic-ray bombardment. But on the last one, we got this!' He handed over another print. The Doctor held it up, and this time Jo saw what looked like a jagged sheet of lightning slashing right across the print. She heard the Doctor's sudden intake of breath. 'Good grief!'
'Aye,' said Tyler grimly. 'And now take a look at these!' He handed the Doctor a tattered roll of papers covered with figures. Jo guessed that they were computer print-outs of some kind.
A moment later the Doctor looked up. 'If these readings are correct, Dr. Tyler, this—whatever-it-is—travels faster than light!'
"That's right,' said Tyler simply. 'And it can't, can it?' He looked up at the Doctor's tall figure. 'I don't know what to make of it, Doctor, and that's the truth. You know what it makes me think of? A shriek of pain, travelling across the Galaxy! It's come all that way, through millions of star systems. It must have been—directed. Directed at us! Why?'
Gently the Doctor put the prints back on the bench, 'Why indeed. Dr. Tyler!' He took a fresh batch of print-outs from Tyler, and began poring over them, quite oblivious to everything else.
The Brigadier cleared his throat meaningfully. What had started off as a fairly straightforward disappearance seemed to have wandered off into the realms of cosmic-ray research. 'The point is, Doctor, has this space-lightning of yours got anything to do with the vanishing of this chap Hollis?'
'Oh I should think so, wouldn't you?' The Doctor looked up at the Brigadier, and then back at the prints on the bench. 'Space-lightning... you know, that's rather good. Brigadier. It does look a bit like lightning.'
The Brigadier looked pleased, then was immediately deflated as the Doctor went on, 'Only of course it isn't lightning. Nothing like it.'
'Do you know what it is. Doctor?' asked Jo.
'Well, if there were such a thing, I should say it was compressed light. Yes that's it—a sort of controlled superlucent emission.'
The Brigadier sighed. He was used to the fact that most of the Doctor's explanations left him none the wiser.
The Doctor leaped to his feet. 'Mr. Tyler, is this cosmic-ray device of yours functioning normally?'
'As far as I know. Haven't developed the plate yet of course.'
'Then I suggest you do so at once. I think you'll find all the necessary equipment over there. If you need anything else, the Brigadier will get it for you. Come along, Jo.'
Obediently, Jo started to follow the Doctor. The Brigadier snapped, 'May I ask where you're off to?'
To take a look at the scene of the disappearance of course.' The Doctor grabbed his cloak from behind the door and set off. Jo gave the Brigadier a 'What-can-you-do?' look, and hurried after him.
Tyler wandered over to the cupboard indicated by the Doctor and opened it. The shelves were crammed with every kind of scientific equipment. He spotted one of the latest types of automatic developer, fished it out, carried it over to a bench and started checking it over. Looking up, he saw the Brigadier glaring down at him.
'All right, old chap, I can manage,' said Tyler kindly. 'I'll give you a shout if I need anything.'
The Brigadier seemed to be controlling himself with an effort. 'That's very kind of you. Dr. Tyler,' he said between gritted teeth. 'Do make yourself at home. Liberty Hall, Dr. Tyler, Liberty Hall!' Slamming the door behind him, the Brigadier marched off down the corridor.
Tyler shook his head in mild astonishment. Funny chap, that. Still, you could never tell with soldiers. Peculiar lot.
Satisfied that the developer was in working order Tyler carefully extracted the plate from the orange box and slipped it inside. There was a low hum as he switched on the developer, and a few minutes later, the print popped out of the machine. Tyler held it up to the light, and almost dropped it from sheer surprise. The same jagged streak ran across the print. But it was superimposed across the blurred picture of a screaming face. It was a face Tyler had seen before, though only for a few seconds—that of the vanished Arthur Hollis.
Tyler shook his head, trying to keep his grasp on reality. 'That shouldn't happen,' he muttered. 'That shouldn't happen at all.' He went back to the orange box and started to undo the clamps and screws which held on the lid. His fingers carried out the familiar process automatically, his mind still grappling with the mystery of what he had just seen. He began taking out pieces of electronic equipment and laying them on the bench. Then he saw there was something else in the box. Huddled in one corner was what looked like a blob of jelly. Tyler reached and poked it. There was a sudden fierce crackle. Like Arthur Hollis before him, Tyler vanished.
For a moment the blob of jelly lay inert in the corner of the box. Then it climbed slowly up the side, quivered on the edge, and plopped down on the laboratory bench. At first it was motionless, as if puzzled by the new environment. Then it slid along the bench, dropped into the little sink and vanished down the plug-hole. The laboratory was empty.
The Doctor, Jo Grant and Mrs. Hollis trudged up to the top of the little hill and paused for breath. Mrs. Hollis pointed.
'There's your old balloon, down there.' They could see the silvery shape flapping about in the breeze, still tethered to its tree. The Doctor nodded, and they walked down the hill towards it.
At the foot of the tree the Doctor immediately started casting about, reminding Jo irresistibly of a hound looking for a scent. Fishing in his pockets he produced a gadget rather like a miniature geiger-counter, and started testing the area. Jo saw he was totally absorbed, and turned to Mrs. Hollis, She was watching the Doctor with an indulgent smile, like a mother who sees her child occupied with his new chemistry set. 'Mrs. Hollis,' asked Jo, 'I don't suppose there's been any sign of your husband—since this morning?'
'No, m'dear, that there hasn't. Still, nothing unusual in that!'
'You're not worried, then?'
'Bless you, why should I be? My Arthur's gone off somewhere. We shan't see him now till dark.'
'Dr. Tyler did say he'd disappeared.'
Mrs. Hollis chuckled placidly. 'No doubt he did. You see, my Arthur, he's a bit of a shy one. Don't take to strangers much. He'll have pointed out the balloon, then slipped away quiet-like.'
'Wouldn't Dr. Tyler have seen him?'
'See my Arthur? Not if he didn't want him to!'
Jo sighed. Could it all be as simple as that? Was Arthur Hollis placidly watching his birds on some distant part of the reserve? She looked down at the Doctor. Crouched on one knee, he was slowly moving his instrument over a little patch of ground. Jo saw the dials flicker, and, very faintly, she thought she heard a crackle.
The Doctor straightened up, and put his instrument back in his pocket. 'Thank you for all your help, Mrs. Hollis. We'd better be going now.'
As they walked back towards the cottage, Mrs. Hollis said helpfully, 'If you really need to see my Arthur, I could try to find him for you.'
The Doctor said, 'Never mind, Mrs. Hollis, it isn't that important.'
Outside the little cottage they said goodbye to Mis. Hollis, climbed into 'Bessie', the Doctor's Edwardian roadster, and drove off. Jo looked at the Doctor. He was driving fast but carefully, as he always did, but she could see that his mind was far away. 'It is, important, isn't it, Doctor—whatever happened back there?'
'Far more important than I'd realised.'
'What were you testing for with that gadget? Radioactivity?'
'No. Anti-matter,' replied the Doctor briefly.
'What's that?'
'Something that can't exist—not in this Universe anyway.'
In that case why look for it? thought Jo. But she could see th
e Doctor was in no mood for further questions.
At UNIT H.Q. the Brigadier had a lot of questions, and he wasn't getting answers to any of them. Feeling a little contrite at the abrupt way he'd spoken to Dr. Tyler—after all it wasn't Tyler's fault if the Doctor was so irritating—the Brigadier had popped back to the laboratory to ask the little man how he was getting on. But Doctor Tyler seemed to have vanished. A thorough check of the building had produced no sign of him, and the Brigadier sat irritably tapping a pencil on his desk, wondering how he was going to explain a mysterious disappearance from his own headquarters. Sergeant Benton popped his head cautiously round the door. 'Report from the main gate, sir. The Doctor's just appeared.'
'Well tell him his friend Tyler's just disappeared—and ask him to come and see me right away.' Benton withdrew his head and went to look for the Doctor, thankful for an excuse to get out of the Brigadier's immediate vicinity.
The Doctor, meanwhile, was driving Bessie into UNIT'S extensive car park. He swung his long legs over the side of the little car. 'Come on, Jo, let's see if Tyler learned anything from that machine of his.'
Obediently Jo scrambled out after him, and they started walking towards the main building. As usual, the Doctor's longer strides took him in front of Jo, and she was running to catch up when she heard a sudden crackle. She stopped, listened. The crackle came again. It was coming from one of the drains at the side of the building. Something was coming out of it... a big blob of some kind of jelly, about the size of a football. It was shot through with iridescent colours, like a patch of oil on a wet pavement. And it was hard to focus your eyes on, as if in some strange way it wasn't quite there. Yet it was there. Rubbing her eyes, staring with a kind of fascinated horror, Jo backed away.
She tried to call out, but her voice seemed stuck in her throat. 'Doctor,' she croaked, 'Doctor!'
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