Doctor Who: The Green Death (9 page)

‘In what way?’

Dr Stevens arched his fingers, as though about to deliver a lecture. ‘There are emotional, sentimental fools who would delight in seeing this plant closed down. I refer to Professor Clifford Jones and his following of hot-heads. But under no circumstances should our work be prevented from continuing.’

‘Surely,’ said the Brigadier, ‘if there’s any question of danger—’

‘Which there isn’t!’ Dr Stevens cut in sharply, for the first time showing any emotion.

‘Dr Stevens,’ the Brigadier retorted, ‘if I see any reason for this plant to be closed, temporarily or permanently, closed it will be!’

‘And in that respect you would be taking a great risk.’

For the second time Dr Stevens had used this word ‘risk’. The Brigadier still wasn’t sure quite what he meant. ‘Risk? To whom?’

‘Possibly to your career,’ said Dr Stevens.

‘Are you threatening me?’

‘Just a little,’ Dr Stevens replied honestly.

‘I submit to
you
, Dr Stevens,’ said the Brigadier, realising he was getting heated, ‘that if necessary I can bring influence to bear at Cabinet level.’

‘How interesting,’ said Dr Stevens in a way to show that he was not at all impressed. He reached over to his desk intercom and pressed a button. ‘Stella,’ he said towards the built-in microphone, ‘get me the Minister of Ecology, please.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said the girl’s voice.

‘Like some more coffee?’ asked Dr Stevens affably.

‘That’s very kind of you,’ said the Brigadier, ‘but no thank you.’

‘You don’t mind if I do?’ said Dr Stevens, as he re-filled his cup from the coffee pot. ‘We don’t pretend this stuff has any nutritional value, but it certainly tastes like coffee.’

‘If I may ask, Dr Stevens, what is your purpose in telephoning the Minister of Ecology?’

‘For your sake,’ said Dr Stevens. ‘You tell me that you can bring influence to bear at Cabinet level. I, on my part, would rather like to see you do it.’

‘Are you trying to goad me, sir?’

‘Brigadier, my only concern is facts. If you can get the Minister of Ecology to permit you to conduct an investigation that may do some harm to Panorama Chemicals, that is a fact of life which I must face. On the other hand if you cannot, then I shall be pleased if you will apply yourself to your task of protecting this plant from those hot-heads shouting at our front gates.’ Dr Stevens gave his little smile again. ‘I assure you, there will be no hard feelings either way.’

‘In fairness,’ said the Brigadier, ‘I didn’t say an investigation would necessarily be directed
against
Panorama Chemicals—’

A phone rang on the vast desk, interrupting what the Brigadier was saying. Dr Stevens lifted the phone.

‘Stevens here.’ He listened, then frowned. ‘My dear young lady,’ Dr Stevens told the caller, ‘I think you have misunderstood. I wish to speak to the Minister
personally
.’ He cupped the mouthpiece, smiled to the Brigadier. ‘This is only his secretary. Apparently he’s in a Cabinet meeting at the moment.’ Someone was speaking to him again on the phone and he listened intently. ‘Ah, that you, Minister? Listen, I’ve got an officer from UNIT here. He wants to speak to you.’ Dr Stevens handed the telephone across the desk to the Brigadier. ‘He’s all yours, Brigadier.’

The Brigadier had no wish to speak to the Minister of Ecology at this moment, but now he had no choice. He’ took the telephone from Dr Stevens. ‘Good day, sir,’ he said. ‘This is Brigadier Lethbridge Stewart of UNIT speaking. I’m here at Llanfairfach, in Wales, to investigate certain mysterious deaths emanating from a disused mine. The unfortunate men who died first turned bright green. It seems to me that an inquiry is called for.’

The Minister did not sound pleased. ‘Is that why you’ve phoned me in the middle of an important Cabinet meeting?’

‘I did not instigate the call,’ said the Brigadier. ‘It was made to you by the Director of Panorama Chemicals, in whose office I am now sitting.’

‘I don’t give a damn where you’re sitting,’ said the Minister. ‘Why do you want to tell me about an investigation into some deaths? That’s a matter for the police, or the local coroner. Have you gone out of your mind?’

The Brigadier was now acutely embarrassed, since he realised that to the Minister he must sound like an idiot. However, he had to press on now that he’d been forced into speaking to the Minister. ‘There is, sir, the possibility that Panorama Chemicals may in some way be connected with these extraordinary occurrences.’

This time the Minister’s tone was quite different. ‘You say Panorama Chemicals could be involved?’

‘It is possible, sir,’ said the Brigadier.

‘Hold on.’ The line went dead, because the Minister was cupping the mouthpiece of his phone while speaking to someone else. Then the Minister’s voice came back. ‘I have just had a word with the Prime Minister, Brigadier. I strongly suggest that you put yourself and UNIT at the disposal of the Director of Panorama Chemicals. He is in far the best position to know what to do.’

The Brigadier felt humiliated, and had difficulty controlling his temper. ‘May I remind you, sir, that I answer to UNIT Supreme Headquarters in Geneva, Switzerland.’

He realised that Dr Stevens was watching him closely and possibly gloating. ‘This may be a matter for world concern, for all I know—’

The Minister cut in again: ‘Then let me put it to you another way, Brigadier. I have just consulted with the Prime Minister who is by my side. This country cannot afford to have an argument, or even the hint of a dispute, with Panorama or with any other multi-national corn-pan’ that’s good enough to have its plants here. If you annoy Panorama—or come to that, phone me again when we’re having a Cabinet meeting—I shall personally apply to UNIT Supreme Headquarters in Geneva for you to be posted to some other part of the world. Good day.’ The line went dead.

The Brigadier put the phone back on its stand, and looked across the desk at Dr Stevens. ‘It seems you have very powerful friends.’

Dr Stevens smiled. ‘I hope he didn’t give you too rough a time, but I did warn you.’ He got up and went across to a built-in wall cabinet and touched a heat button. The front of the cabinet slid open to reveal an array of bottles and glasses. ‘Care for some sherry? I’ve got something here made from re-processed whale glue.’

The Brigadier rose to go. ‘Not for me, sir, thank you.’

Dr Stevens turned and looked at the Brigadier. ‘You know, Brigadier, we’re not murderers. I’m as eager as you to prevent any further accidents. But I really don’t think they’ve got anything to do with my company.’

‘We never shall know unless there’s a full enquiry,’ said the Brigadier.

Dr Stevens did not answer that directly. ‘Couldn’t you and I cooperate? I could place an office at your disposal, and give you a secretary.’

‘And then I would have to take orders from you,’ said the Brigadier, ‘just as I gather the Minister takes orders?’

‘That’s a hard thing to say, Brigadier.’

‘I recall a time, Dr Stevens, when Great Britain could regard itself as a sovereign state, answering to no one but its elected Parliament and its monarch,’ the Brigadier said. ‘Now, it seems, we can be told what to do by international business companies.’

‘Sad, isn’t it?’ said Dr Stevens. ‘Sure you won’t have some sherry? Or there’s some very good Scotch whisky here made from re-cycled wood pulp.’

‘If you’ll excuse me,’ said the Brigadier, ‘I think I’ll go and find out if there’s any news of the Doctor.’

‘Certainly,’ said Dr Stevens, opening the door. ‘I’m pleased that we’ve been able to talk so openly and frankly.’

The Brigadier went off down the corridor, and Dr Stevens closed the door. He looked up towards the ceiling. ‘Well?’

The voice of Boss spoke from above. ‘Excellent handling of a delicate situation. Imitation of Minister’s voice on telephone first class. Congratulations.’

When the Brigadier walked away down the corridor from Dr Stevens’s office he passed by the door of the laboratory where Mark Elgin was still arguing with Dr Arnold Bell.

‘I don’t know what’s happened to you, Arnold,’ said Elgin, ‘but you’ve got to fight it.’

‘You have no right to be in here,’ repeated Dr Bell. ‘It is for authorised personnel only.’

‘Heaven’s, man,’ said Elgin, ‘we’ve been through all that. Have you been hypnotised or something?’

Dr Bell turned to Elgin. ‘Can’t you see that I am trying to get on with my work?’

‘What I can see,’ Elgin replied, ‘is a nice fellow I used to know behaving like someone else.’

There was a sudden harsh buzzing from one of the panels. Red lights flashed on and off, and from a loudspeaker a mechanical voice boomed into the room: ‘Intruders in waste pipe. Intruders in waste pipe.’

‘What the devil’s that?’ asked Elgin.

Dr Bell pressed one of a line of buttons on a console. A small television monitor screen came to life, showing a picture of the Doctor and Jo desperately climbing up the rungs inside the great pipe. Dr Bell glanced at the screen, but did not seem to react to what he saw. He went to a microphone and spoke into it :

‘Tank voiding operation completed,’ he told the microphone. ‘Waste disposal under way.’

He pulled a lever, and Elgin heard a liquid rushing sound from somewhere that he couldn’t yet locate. ‘Are you putting waste into that pipe?’ he demanded of Dr Bell. ‘You’ll kill those people.’

‘They are intruders,’ said Dr Bell.

‘Turn off the waste,’ ordered Elgin.

‘Not possible,’ said Dr Bell. ‘The operation is automatic. Fifteen seconds to go.’

‘Show some sense,’ Elgin implored. ‘You’re about to commit double murder!’

‘They are intruders,’ Dr Bell repeated, as though that was a good reason to kill them. ‘Only authorised personnel are allowed inside the pipe.’

Elgin shouted at him. ‘You must stop the waste going down that pipe! Do you understand?’ He grabbed Dr Bell by the shoulders and shook him fiercely. ‘Do you understand
anything
?’

Dr Bell’s face screwed up, all the muscles tightening as in his mind a battle raged between what he knew was right and his new loyalty to Boss.

‘Too late,’ he said. ‘Not possible.’

Elgin looked round the room desperately, noticed the transparent port-hole in the wall. It had hinges down one side so he realised it must open. He rushed over to the port-hole and ran his fingers round the edge of the frame, trying to open it. It would not budge. ‘How does this thing open?’

Dr Bell was now standing in the middle of the room, staring vacantly into space. ‘Unauthorised personnel,’ he said mechanically. ‘Not in the interests of the Company.’

‘You’ve got to tell me,’ Elgin pleaded. ‘How does this thing open?’

As Elgin spoke, the Doctor and Jo climbed up inside the pipe and started to hammer on the glass.

Dr Bell spoke in short agonised gasps. ‘Murder... save lives... no unauthorised personnel... Thou shalt not kill... exterminate... Jesus saves... final solution...’

Elgin looked at the dial activated when Dr Bell pulled the waste lever. Its finger was nearing the word ‘zero’.

‘Look at those two people,’ he screamed at Dr Bell. ‘In a few seconds you are going to see them die—see them with your own eyes. In the name of humanity, tell me how I can open this port-hole?’

Dr Bell swayed, the terrible internal battle of conscience boiling in his mind. He licked his parched lips, then with enormous effort pointed to a console. ‘Yellow button. Left side.’ Then he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

Elgin rushed to the console and jammed his thumb down on to the yellow button. A moment’s pause, then the frame of the port-hole opened. The Doctor and Jo scrambled into the room. The Doctor swung round and slammed shut the port-hole behind him. Almost instantly the rushing noise increased and sludge and slime started to cascade past the port-hole. It increased in volume until the pipe was filled with downward rushing liquid.

Jo sank on to the floor, exhausted from the long climb. The Doctor looked across to Mark Elgin.

‘Thanks.’ The Doctor stared down at the prostrate form of Dr Bell. ‘My goodness, what’s the matter with him?’ He went to kneel down beside the man, checked the pulse.

‘I don’t think it’s physical,’ said Elgin, joining the Doctor. ‘We were having an argument—actually it was about whether or not to save your lives.’

‘Charming,’ said the Doctor, ‘which side were you on?’

Elgin grinned. ‘You’re alive, aren’t you?’

The Doctor lifted Dr Bell’s eyelids, felt his heart. ‘Poor fellow seems to have fainted. Let’s sit him up somewhere.’

Together the Doctor and Elgin dragged Dr Bell across to the wall, sat him up against it.

‘He was mumbling all sorts of nonsense before he passed out,’ Elgin volunteered. ‘I couldn’t make head nor tail of it.’

‘Can you remember anything he said?’

‘He said “murder”, then “save lives”, and I think he said “Thou shalt not kill” and “exterminate”.’

The Doctor looked down at the still unconscious Dr Bell. ‘Sounds like some terrible internal conflict in his mind.’

‘What about your young friend?’ Elgin asked.

‘Good grief,’ said the Doctor, turning back to where Jo was still slumped on the floor gasping. ‘I’d almost forgotten her. How do you feel now, Jo?’

‘That horrible-looking stuff’—she pointed to the sludge and slime on the other side of the port-hole—‘that’s what makes the maggots.’

‘Maggots?’ Elgin was mystified.

The Doctor quickly explained what he and Jo had seen in the mine. ‘In some way those creatures must be linked to the oil waste that your Company is pouring into the mine,’ he concluded.

‘It’s unbelievable,’ Elgin said. ‘I wonder if Dr Bell knew this?’ Elgin turned back to Dr Bell. ‘Let’s see if he’s come round... ‘ The sentence trailed off. Dr Bell had vanished. ‘He’s got up and gone!’

The Doctor rubbed his chin. ‘The only reason he would slink away when our backs were turned is because he’s gone to tell someone about us being here.’

‘I told you how strangely he was behaving,’ said Elgin.

‘Is there some quiet way you can get us out of here?’