Doctor Who: The Sensorites (9 page)

The minutes passed
slowly as the Administrator and the Engineer tracked the five moving
blips on the screen and watched them eventually enter the Chamber of
the First Elder. The points of light stopped for a moment and then
the two representing John and Carol separated themselves from the
others and moved off screen. Puzzled, the Engineer looked up to the
Administrator for instruction. He urged him to continue: they would
destroy the three aliens in the chamber first, and John and Carol
later.

Suddenly an
authoritative and indignant voice broke into their concentration.
'Stop! Disconnect the Disintegrator at once!'

The two Sensorites
turned around to see the Second Elder standing in the doorway. The
veins at his temples were pounding with outrage.

'Why?' demanded the
Administrator, silently cursing the Second Elder. 'They are
Earth-creatures and therefore dangerous to us.'

'No. They are
civilised beings. They are talking to the First Elder in a most
friendly fashion. The First Elder has already agreed to cure the man
known as John. We need not fear them.'

'The trust we give
to each other we cannot give to the Earth-creatures,' protested the
Administrator. 'They are aliens: they threaten our entire way of
life.'

The Second Elder
ignored him and demanded the Firing Key of the Disintegrator. He held
out his hand to the Engineer who had remained in shaken silence
throughout. Such was the authority in the Second Elder's voice and
bearing that the Engineer could not refuse.

'I will place this
in the safekeeping of the Chief of Warriors,' the Second Elder said
as he took the Key.

Clutching the
Firing Key in his hand he turned to go; but before he left the room
he addressed the Administrator. 'I am doubtful about you,' he said.
'Do not let my doubts become a reality.'

As the door closed
behind him, the Administrator turned furiously to his accomplice. The
Second Elder's humiliation of him in front of his servant would not
go unavenged.

'We are being bound
hand and foot and given to these Earth-creatures,' he said. There was
no mistaking the hate in his voice. 'Our leaders have grown weak.'

'I will follow
you,' volunteered the Engineer. 'I do not trust these creatures
either.'

'I am grateful for
your loyalty,' said the Administrator sincerely. 'The First and
Second Elders have let themselves be deceived. If they do not change
their attitudes they may have to give way to another Sensorite of
stronger thought.' It was obvious who he thought that Sensorite
should be.

The Engineer
pressed his fist to his chest in an oath of allegiance. 'Command me,'
he said.

'Have patience,'
the Administrator advised him. 'The time for action will not be far
away . . .'

The First Elder had
greeted the Doctor's party with great cordiality and, as the Second
Elder had revealed, had readily agreed to the Doctor's request that
John be treated by the Sensorite scientists. However, declared the
Doctor, that did not alter the fact that the Sensorites were
responsible for his condition in the first place.

Before explaining
his actions the First Elder urged them all to sit down and called for
refreshments. As if from nowhere, Sensorite servants appeared,
bringing with them plates piled with exotic fruits. Ian noted with
some astonishment that the plates were made of solid gold.

Satisfied that his
guests were well provided for, the First Elder began his story: 'John
was like the other humans who came here ten years ago. When he
discovered that our planet was rich in molybdenum his mind just
opened up to us. We were able to see the pictures in his mind: he
dreamt of a fleet of spaceships coming to mine our metal and
transport it back to Earth. It would have been the end of our way of
life. We had no alternative but to imprison him and his friends in
orbit above the Sense-Sphere.'

'That's still no
reason for driving him out of his mind,' Ian insisted as he
munched thoughtfully on a peach-like fruit.

The Sensorite
raised a hand in protest. 'That was . . . unfortunate. It happened
because his excitement opened up his mind. The others fell into a
deep sleep, as we planned, but he heard the full power of our voices
in his brain. His mind had no reserve, no defence . . . We had no
wish to harm anyone at all: that is not our way. Please believe me.'

As the Doctor, Ian
and Susan realised that they might have misjudged the Sensorites
after all, another servant entered the room. He carried on a tray
goblets of sparkling water. Ian looked wonderingly at the drinking
vessels: they looked suspiciously as if they were fashioned from pure
platinum.

As the Doctor
raised a goblet to his lips, the First Elder stopped him and angrily
rose from his seat and turned to his servant. 'Why do you insult our
guests?' he demanded. 'Why do you not give them the same water as you
give me? You will bring them the crystal water immediately!' With a
wave of his hand he dismissed his servant who scuttled off muttering
his apologies.

Amused at the First
Elder's anxiety to ensure that his guests had the best of everything,
Ian asked, 'Crystal water? What's the difference between that and
ordinary water?'

'In the Yellow
Mountains I discovered a pure spring, the water of which I believe to
hold special qualities,' their host explained. 'I have flagons of it
stored for the exclusive use of the Elders. We are very proud of our
aqueduct,' he added. 'It lies beneath the City at the foot of the
Mountains.'

Ian grinned. 'Well,
I hope you don't mind if I have some of this ordinary water while I'm
waiting. I'm very thirsty.' He picked up a goblet and sipped at the
water, smiling in appreciation as he felt the cool liquid run down
his throat.

Impatient with this
polite display of good manners and gastronomical discussion the
Doctor typically came straight to the point.

'Now, my good sir,'
he said to the First Elder, 'we were brought here to find a cure for
this mysterious disease of yours. In return, you will give back to us
the lock of my Ship and return these unfortunate spacepeople home. Am
I right?'

'That is so,' the
First Elder said as he waved his servant back into the room. He was
now bearing goblets filled with the crystal water.

'Would you tell us
something about the disease?' Ian asked as he passed a plate of fruit
to Susan. Suddenly he began to cough and splutter, and Susan put down
her fruit to give him a hearty pat on the back.

'The disease
resists all our attempts to stamp it out,' explained the First Elder.
'It hits all manner of our people, irrespective of their caste.'

'Including the
Elders?' asked the Doctor.

The First Elder
shook his head. 'No. So far it seems we have been fortunate.'

'Do you think there
might be a clue there, Doctor?' asked Ian, who began to launch into a
fit of hacking coughs.

'My dear
Chesterton,' said the Doctor, 'are you all right?'

Susan pressed a
hand against Ian's forehead. It was covered in sweat. His face too
had taken on a sudden deathly pallor.

The Doctor looked
enquiringly at the First Elder. 'Is this a symptom of your disease?'
he asked.

'My throat's
burning,' Ian gasped. He tried to stand up on shaking legs, but the
whole world was spinning sickeningly about him. He collapsed on the
floor, sending his drink and food on the table before him flying in
all directions.

Susan knelt down to
him, instinctively feeling for his pulse. She looked up, concerned,
at her grandfather and the First Elder who were standing over her.
'He's unconscious, Grandfather. His pulse is racing ahead . . .'

The First Elder
looked sadly down at Ian's trembling body. With genuine regret he
said, 'There is no hope. Your friend is dying . . .'

A Race Against
Death

Ian lay writhing on
the floor of the chamber, his body and clothes soaked in sweat. The
Doctor, Susan and the First Elder bent over him in concern. As the
Doctor mopped Ian's brow with his pocket handkerchief he marvelled at
the incredible build-up in his companion's body temperature.

'This disease of
yours, is it contagious?' he asked the distressed First Elder.

The Sensorite shook
his head. 'No, but it strikes indiscriminately at our people and
without warning.'

'Now, that is
unusual,' remarked the Doctor. 'I wonder, could it be a germ in the
air . . .'

Susan looked
anxiously at her grandfather. 'Grandfather, it doesn't seem like a
disease at all, does it?' she said, echoing the old man's thoughts.
'If Ian's got it why haven't we? We've done everything together; gone
down from the spaceship, come here . . . What about the fruit?'

The Doctor stood up
and stroked his chin. 'No,' he said, 'you had some of that too . . .'

Suddenly a spark of
triumph flashed in his eyes. 'I know! Ian drank a different kind of
water! And that would explain why the Elders are unaffected: they
drink only the crystal water!'

The First Elder was
puzzled. 'But why do not all those who drink the ordinary water die?
It all comes from the same source.'

The Doctor brushed
his question aside. 'It depends on their resistance, he surmised.
'But in due course all will die.'

'Are you sure of
this?'

'Of course I'm not
sure - yet,' the Doctor replied tartly. 'But for the moment that's
all we have to go on. Now, please call for a servant.'

The First Elder
complied with the request. Susan called her grandfather's attention
back to Ian. His eyes had now reopened and he was
groaning in pain, clutching at his stomach. The Doctor bent down to
comfort him.

'This isn't a
disease - it's more like a poison,' he muttered to himself while
feeling for Ian's pulse. He looked up as the Sensorite servant
entered the room. 'Go to your scientists,' he ordered. 'I want some
sodium chloride and I want it immediately.'

The servant looked
at the First Elder for confirmation and then scurried out of the
chamber.

The Sensorite
leader made his concern known to the Doctor; he offered to do all in
his power to help the old man and see that Ian was cured.

'For a start you
can ensure that no one drinks anything but the crystal water,' began
the Doctor. 'Secondly, I must work with your scientists. I presume
you have a laboratory in the Palace?'

The First Elder
nodded.

Susan stood up,
leaving Ian who had once more lapsed into unconsciousness. She walked
over to her grandfather. 'How long has he got?' she asked in a broken
whisper.

To her surprise it
was the First Elder who answered her question. 'I hear the distress
in your mind and I respond to it,' he sympathised. 'From the first
signs no one has lived longer than the third day.'

Susan looked
aghast; but the Doctor beamed. 'As long as that?' he asked
jubilantly. 'Then we have more time!' He took the First Elder aside
and said confidentially to him, 'Sir, I have chemicals on board my
Ship, the TARDIS. Return the lock to me and I shall not only cure my
young friend, but save your entire race!'

The First Elder
regarded the old man with suspicion. Was this merely some ruse to
regain the lock of the TARDIS? Could the Doctor really be trusted? 'I
must discuss this matter with the Second Elder,' he stalled.

'Very well,' the
Doctor conceded reluctantly. 'But do not delay one second longer than
you have to!'

The First Elder
bowed in agreement and left the chamber, just as a Sensorite servant
entered carrying a golden platter piled high with salt.

Taking the platter
off him the Doctor tipped the salt into one of the goblets
of crystal water and stirred the solution with a pencil he took out
of his jacket pocket.

Motioning Susan to
raise Ian's head he passed the bowl to the schoolteacher's lips. As
Ian opened his eyes the Doctor smiled encouragingly at him.

'Now, I want you to
drink this, my boy,' he said, sounding just like an old-fashioned
family doctor. 'It's not going to be pleasant, but it's all for your
own good.'

As Ian sipped at
the salt and water solution his face screwed up in disgust, but Susan
urged him on, and within a minute he had drained the goblet of its
unsavoury contents. Seconds later he began to cough and retch,
spitting up green vomit. Susan turned her head away in distaste.

Concerned as he was
with Ian and this primitive attempt to purge his system, the Doctor's
thoughts were now elsewhere - with the First and Second Elders. If
they decided not to allow him access to the TARDIS there was no
guarantee that he could save Ian's life - or find a cure for the
mysterious disease that was killing the Sensorites. And if he could
not cure the Sensorites, they might soon all wish that they were dead
. . .

In a secluded
garden near the Palace, with a magnificent view of the Yellow
Mountains, the First and Second Elders were engaged in a heated
discussion over the future of the TARDIS crew.

The First Elder
felt instinctively that the TARDIS lock ought to be returned to the
Doctor. But to justify such a controversial action to his people he
needed the advice and support of his chief advisor. And what
concerned the First Elder most of all was not that his deputy was
against such a course of action, but that he was voicing many of the
First Elder's own private fears and doubts.

'The Doctor may not
be sincere,' the Second Elder warned. 'He says his friend is dying -
but who is to say that he is not pretending? Once we let him into his
ship who knows what power he may use to bring us to his mercy? They
may go away and return with an army of human beings in a fleet of
spaceships and destroy our way of life forever . . .'

'This is a terrible
picture you paint,' the First Elder sighed.