Doctor Who_ Tenth Planet Part 3

Cutler was in full command of the splash-down operation. He barked into the mike in front of him: 'h.e.l.lo Hawaii. Zeus Four Zeus Four will splash down at 1445 your time. All helicopters to area six immediately.' will splash down at 1445 your time. All helicopters to area six immediately.'

The loudspeaker bleeped. 'Check. Full deployment at 1400. Out.'

Dyson was also playing his part in the splash-down operation. 'h.e.l.lo Rome computer base. Final descent path. Please compute and repeat.'

A voice with a foreign accent spoke in reply. 'All re-entry vectors are programmed.

Read out at 1350.'

Barclay glanced around the large tracking room. Each of the men was now totally intent upon his part in the complex splash-down procedure. He pulled the mike closer, and spoke loudly. 'h.e.l.lo Zeus Four Zeus Four. Your flight path is now correcting.'

Schultz's voice surfaced over the angry flood of static. 'The power loss is now increasing. Something has happened to our limbs. We can hardly move.'

Barclay glanced anxiously at the screen. The picture of the two men was now flecked with little dots of white-as though the picture had encountered bad interference at some point in its transmission from s.p.a.ce.

'You've been up there a fair time. It's probably just s.p.a.ce fatigue.'

'No... it's quite different. We had to operate the manual controls together. Neither of us could have done it alone.'

Barclay anxiously examined the screen before replying. Then he glanced down at the paper Dyson had just slid along the top of the console, and replied. 'We have your descent path now. Stand by.'

The astronauts in the capsule were growing weaker and weaker. Each movement seemed to require an immense effort.

Barclay's voice came over the loudspeaker. 'Re-entry will begin in position four six zero, and verto rockets to go at fourteen, forty five.'

Williams slowly raised his arm and weakly began operating the rows of switches in front of him.

'Dan,' he croaked, 'put that into the computer, will you?'

Schultz, wincing from the effort, stretched out his arm and started programming the computer control in front of him.

'One thing, man,' gasped Williams into the mike, 'you'll have to bring us in this time round. We can't hang on any longer.'

The two men held their breath as they waited for the reply. Then Barclay's voice came over: 'You must. We can't bring you down this...o...b..t. You'll over-shoot!'

With a sense of impending doom, the two men looked at each other wearily. The grey-haired older man shook his head : 'We'll never make it, Glyn.'

The big negro astronaut seemed to pull himself together. 'Yes we will. Come on, Dan, we'd better check the re-entry controls. Ready?'

Schultz nodded pa.s.sively.

'Retros one and three.'

Schultz looked up at the dials: 'Check.'

'Main 'chute cover?'

'Yeah. O. K.'

'Heat s.h.i.+eld bolts?'

'Yep.' The routine of checking the instruments was one that Schultz could practically do blindfold-the familiar re-entry pattern.

Suddenly Williams looked at the instruments above his head and anxiously glanced back at him. 'Dan, what do you make our position?'

Schultz leant over. His face contorted painfully. 'We've swung out again!'

Williams heaved forward, and shouted into the mike: 'Emergency! Emergency! We have left flight path again. Give correction please, urgent.'

4 Mondas!

Barclay jumped up and slammed down the clipboard on which he had been making notes. 'It must be that flaming planet. Its gravity is affecting the capsule.'

'What do we do about it?' asked Dyson, who was standing beside him.

'What can can we do?' Barclay began-and then realised that the eyes of most of the men in the room were on him. He pulled himself together. 'First of all we must give we do?' Barclay began-and then realised that the eyes of most of the men in the room were on him. He pulled himself together. 'First of all we must give Zeus Zeus Four Four a new correction path. Will you do that?' a new correction path. Will you do that?'

Dyson nodded. 'Right away.'

'Then we must get a better fix on this so-called planet and try to identify it.'

He looked across at Cutler, who was standing by the television screen, and noticed that the General had undone the b.u.t.tons of his tunic-something Cutler only did in extreme emergencies.

'It's considerably clearer now,' commented Cutler.

Barclay nodded then, remembering something, strode quickly across the floor of the control room towards the observation room. He beckoned to the Doctor.

When the Doctor appeared, he spoke quickly. 'You say you know something about this new planet? Let's have it.'

The Doctor looked away thoughtfully for a moment, and tapped his fingers on his lapels. 'Well, I'm not absolutely sure. Perhaps if I can look at it again.'

Barclay turned round and shouted across to one of the technicians : 'Feed the retinascope picture to the observation monitor.'

One of the nearby technicians pressed a b.u.t.ton and the picture of the two astronauts was replaced by an image of a planet the size of a football. Barclay and the Doctor moved forward to observe it more closely.

'What about setting these boys down, eh, Dr Barclay?' shouted Cutler angrily from behind them.

But the scientist had been caught by something in the appearance of the new planet. 'Yes, yes,' shouted the Doctor excitedly, his eyes s.h.i.+ning with the stimulus of a new idea. 'It's just as I thought. Perhaps you would care to examine these land ma.s.ses here.'

He pointed to one side of the screen. Cutler, caught by the urgent tone of the Doctor's voice, also turned round to examine the screen.

'Land ma.s.ses. I don't see any... Oh yeh, I see what you mean!'

The image of the strange planet was now fairly clear on the larger screen. Much of it was covered in white cloud ma.s.ses, but they could make out the outline of a long triangle with slightly curved edges.

'Does that remind you of anything?' asked the Doctor.

Cutler shrugged his shoulders. 'No, I don't reckon so.

Unnoticed by the others, the Sergeant, followed by Polly and Ben, had come up behind the Doctor.

It was Ben who spoke. 'Hey, it looks familiar, don't it?'

'Yes!' Polly moved a bit closer to the screen. 'Ben, look. That bit, surely that's...

South America!'

'Yeah! And look-the other side. Doesn't that look like... Africa!'

'There is a marked similarity,' said Barclay slowly.

'Nonsense!' exclaimed Cutler. 'How could it be?' For answer, Barclay pointed to the top of the map.

'Look. Surely that's Arabia, India...'

The General nodded reluctantly. 'Well, O.K. I must be some reflection of Earth.'

'No.' The scientist was thinking aloud. 'It can't be that. There's nothing to reflect on.'

Behind him, the Doctor, a slightly self-satisfied expression on his face, had drawn himself up to his full height. 'Now,' he said, 'my dear sir, I suggest you look at that piece of paper I gave you.'

'Paper? Oh yes!' Barclay fumbled in his pocket and brought it out. His eyes opened wide with amazement as he read it. 'You knew?'

The Doctor nodded a little smugly. 'Certainly.'

'What did he know?' rapped Cutler.

Barclay held out the paper to the General. 'He has correctly written down what we have just seen and...' He looked at the Doctor in amazement. '... he did it before we saw it!'

Cutler looked down suspiciously at the piece of paper in his hand. 'Some kind of con trick, that's all.'

But Ben noticed that from now on he seemed to treat the Doctor with a wary respect.

Barclay shook his head. 'No, no, I remember when he gave me the bit of paper.' He turned back to the Doctor. 'You really know a great deal about this situation. Can you be more explicit?'

The Doctor nodded and grasped the lapels of his cloak. He looked a little like a school teacher addressing a cla.s.s. 'Yes, I'm sorry to say that I can. Millions of years ago Earth had a twin planet called Mondas...'

'Get lost! We've no time to listen to this...' Cutler turned away in disgust and called to the technician manning the communications console. 'Get me Geneva on the radio link.'

He turned back to Barclay. 'We'll see what Secretary Wiener has to say about this.' He strode over to the communications console, Barclay following him.

Polly turned angrily to the Doctor. 'How can he be so rude to you? What's the matter, Doctor? You're looking terribly worried.'

'Really? Yes, I suppose you could say I'm a little worried.'

'Tell us then, Doctor. What's happening?' pleaded Ben.

'You see, Ben know what this planet is and what it means to Earth.'

'Means to Earth!' echoed Ben. 'How can it affect us?'

The Doctor gazed up at the ceiling. His companions noticed that his cheek was twitching in agitation. He spoke slowly and deliberately : 'Before very long, I'm afraid we must expect... visitors!'

'Visitors? Out here at the South Pole? Come off it, Doctor! Who do you think's going to bring them? Santa Claus on his sledge?'

But the Doctor didn't appear to have heard Ben. He was watching Cutler, who was speaking into the console. 'Quiet boy, quiet.'

Cutler's loud voice echoed through the tracking room. 'Is that I.S.C. Geneva? Put me through to the Secretary-General. Yes, that's right.'

The Doctor turned to the Sergeant who was standing behind them. 'May I ask who that is?'

'Gee!' The Sergeant seemed genuinely surprised. 'You really are out of touch, aren't you? That's Secretary-General of International s.p.a.ce Command: Robert Wigner!'

Secretary Wigner, supreme commander of the International s.p.a.ce Command, was seated at his desk in the Geneva headquarters. A compact, dark-haired man of about forty, his round, slightly pudgy face gave no indication of his formidable character. He was respected throughout the world as an extremely efficient-even ruthless-administrator, with an enormous intelligence.

The large, circular crest of International s.p.a.ce Command-a globe with an outstreched hand holding a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p pointing towards the stars-dominated the wall behind him.

Wigner spoke into one of his many radiophones. 'This is very hard to believe, General. Are you quite sure?'

Cutler's voice came through on the suspended loudspeaker system. 'There's no doubt at all.'

Wigner thought for a moment and then nodded. 'Very well. Just a moment please.'

He turned to one of his aides.