Doctor Who: The Green Death (6 page)

Professor Jones took the Doctor’s remark as a slight rebuff for his being so young. ‘You regard me as, shall we say, a “promising youngster”?—not to be taken too seriously?’

‘No, no,’ said the Doctor. ‘I mean for the age you live in. I haven’t seen anything like that paper of yours since a fellow I met in Vladivostok in the year 2179.’

Professor Jones and Dave Griffiths stared at the Doctor. ‘The year 2179?’ said Professor Jones. ‘You mean 205 years in the future?’ A smile played on the young professor’s lips. Clearly he thought the Doctor was mad.

‘Well, maybe it was the year 2168. Anyway, it doesn’t really matter. You’re a very remarkable young scientist, and it’s an honour to meet you.’

The Brigadier cleared his throat, loudly. ‘Doctor, the matter at hand is the rescue of Miss Grant and the man she went with down the mine.’

Professor Jones said, ‘Why don’t we go back to Panorama Chemicals and just take the equipment we need, by force if necessary?’

‘Hold on,’ said the Brigadier. ‘I can’t start a war with Panorama Chemicals! I’m supposed to be protecting them from demonstrators and possible sabotage! In fact, Professor Jones, I am supposed to be protecting them against you. Now, to be practical, where’s the nearest town where we could hire this stuff?’

Dave said, ‘Newport, I imagine. But it’s quite a drive.’

‘Then I had better get started,’ said the Brigadier. ‘Exactly where in Newport?’

‘There’s a company I know of hire out all sorts of tools and equipment,’ said Dave. ‘What if I come with you? Might save time.’

‘I should be most grateful,’ the Brigadier accepted. ‘Doctor, we’ll be back as quickly as possible. I trust you will not involve yourself in anything between now and then that might possibly upset the status quo.’

The Brigadier hurried out, followed by Dave Griffiths. A moment later the Doctor heard the jeep start up and tear away at high speed.

‘That army friend of yours,’ said Professor Jones. ‘He seems to be a great believer in law and order.’

‘Aren’t we all?’ asked the Doctor. ‘At least, when there is law and order to believe in.’ He picked up the cotter pin again and looked at it thoughtfully. ‘Who would have done a criminal thing like this?’

‘Certainly not one of the miners,’ said Professor Jones.

‘Exactly,’ said the Doctor. ‘Nor any of the other villagers because they are all related to miners.’ He looked up and smiled at the younger man. ‘People from the Wholeweal Community, perhaps?’ It was more of a joke than a serious question. ‘So, who else? And why?’ He scratched his chin. ‘You know, Panorama Chemicals is beginning to interest me. Do you know the layout there?’

‘Very well,’ said Professor Jones. ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Doctor?’

Hinks was sitting back in his own little room in the security sector of the Panorama Chemicals building. There was nothing much to do, so he had made himself a cup of tea and was now reading one of his comics. He had a big collection of comics, mainly American, most of them full of pictures that told stories. He preferred pictures to words because he could not read very fast, although he tried to keep this a secret. Hinks had looked through the picture story many times before, but it always fascinated him to go through it again. He was just about to turn the page that carried the first picture of the torture sequence when an alarm buzzer in his room started to bleep. Angrily he put down the comic, picked up a phone.

‘What is it?’

‘Demonstrators,’ replied the voice of a security guard. ‘Lots of them.’

Hinks switched on the television monitor screen by his bed. It immediately showed the view around the front gates. Professor Clifford Jones and a crowd of young people from the Wholeweal Community were parading up and down in the road, banging drums, playing musical instruments, and shouting slogans. He turned up the volume to hear what they were shouting.

‘Save the valleys from Panorama Chemicals... PC stands for pollution and corruption... Stevens must go—the further the better.’

Hinks snapped off the sound, picked up the phone again. He barked orders into the mouthpiece. ‘All security units to the front section. Under no circumstances must they be allowed to break into the grounds.’

Regretfully he put away his comic, got up to go and protect the building. Still, the comic would be there when he got back. And he hadn’t yet got to the pictures of people being beaten and burned, so he had something to look foward to.

From his position high in a tree, the Doctor could just see the noisy demonstration taking place at the front gates of Panorama Chemicals. He waited until he saw security guards run to take up their positions against the possibility of the demonstrators trying to break in. Then, with great care, he crawled along the one branch of the tree that had grown over the electrified fence which surrounded the building. As he neared the end of the branch it began to sag under his weight, almost touching the fence below. The Doctor knew that if it did make contact, a charge of electricity would course through the branch, and through him, too, and that it was probably powerful enough to kill. With the tree branch barely an inch from the fence, the Doctor gave a final little jump—and landed on his feet inside the compound. He released his hold on the branch a fraction of a second before it came into contact with the fence. There was a flash, and it withered and fell from the tree.

The Doctor paused a moment to consult the map which Professor Jones had sketched for him. Then he raced across open ground towards the buildings.

From his office Dr Stevens looked down at the demonstrators. He had hoped UNIT was going to stop all this nonsense. In his mind he started to formulate a strong letter of protest to the Government, complaining that Brigadier Lethbridge Stewart seemed more involved in the colliery than in protecting Panorama Chemicals. These idiots, Dr Stevens thought, banging drums and shouting, might have good intentions, but they were not realists. What the world wanted was more and more petrol and diesel, for industry, areoplanes, and road vehicles. As for pollution caused through the continued use of oil, that was the price mankind had to pay. But in time, Dr Stevens believed, even this problem could be solved. Professor Jones and his followers lived in a world of make-believe. The clock of technological progress could not be turned back.

As he watched from his window he saw Hinks run out to give orders to the security guards. Dr Stevens did not like Hinks. He seemed to be a survival from an earlier brutish age, a very violent sort of man. But, Dr Stevens reminded himself, the price he paid to keep Panorama Chemicals secure from hot-heads like Professor Jones was to employ thugs like Hinks. It saddened the idealistic side of Dr Stevens’s thinking that nothing was for nothing.

His thoughts were interrupted by a ring on the internal phone. He lifted it.

‘Yes?’

‘A stranger is in the grounds,’ said a guard’s voice. ‘He appears to be consulting a map of the grounds, and is making for the equipment sheds. Should we destroy him?’

Dr Stevens immediately realised the trick. All the shouting and drum banging at the front gates was a decoy. ‘No,’ he said into the phone. ‘Catch him, then tell me where to find him.’

He put down the phone. Was this anything to do with the Brigadier’s request for cutting gear? If so, he had a surprise up his sleeve.

The Doctor paused by the side of a building and looked at the sketch map again. He was, he calculated, now quite close to the equipment shed. Committing the route to memory he put the map into his pocket and strode along the side of the building. He knew he should shortly turn right and pass through a narrow passageway that ran between two buildings.

He turned the corner and saw the passageway. The equipment sheds, according to the map, were at the far end. From the distance he could hear the demonstrators shouting and singing. Smiling to himself he set off down the passageway. As he reached the middle a metal grille slammed across the way ahead of him. He wheeled round. Another metal grille closed behind him. He looked up to see if there was anywhere to climb. The face of Hinks grinned down at him from a low roof.

‘This is your friendly host,’ called Hinks. ‘We hope your stay at Panorama will be long and uncomfortable.’ He guffawed loudly. It was not often Hinks had the opportunity to make a joke.

Jo and Bert paused in their trudge along the mine.

‘Do you really think you’re going to find this old shaft?’ she asked.

Bert wiped the sweat from his brow. ‘I don’t know. Let’s take a breather.’

They both sank down, sitting on the floor with their backs to the wall.

‘Did you ever think of becoming anything else?’ Jo asked.

‘Than a miner?’ Bert gave a short laugh. ‘Oh yes, I thought about becoming a film star, or winning the football pools. Every man thinks about it, but not many actually do it.’

‘But it seems so dangerous,’ Jo said. ‘And such a terrible place to work.’

‘Think we’re simple-minded, do you?’ There was a gentle smile in his voice as he put the question.

‘I wouldn’t say that,’ she answered. ‘But... well, why do people become miners?’

‘You don’t get much choice,’ he said simply. ‘There’s some people get born in Buckingham Palace, and they becomes kings and queens, because that’s the family occupation. Us, we get born in a place like Llanfairfach, where our fathers and uncles all go down the pit. When you’re old enough you go down too, to show the world you’re a man. Daft, isn’t it?’

‘Not really,’ she said. ‘Someone has to get the coal.’

‘That’s true.’ He was quiet for a moment. ‘There’s more to it than that, miss. When you’re a miner you are part of one big family, and that’s a wonderful feeling. Every man in the pits knows his life depends on the other men. We live together, we die together, and’—he grinned broadly—‘by goodness if the people up top don’t treat us right, we go on strike together!’

‘It’s really like being a member of another nation,’ she said.

Bert got to his feet. ‘That’s exactly how it is, miss. There’s us down here, and there’s them up there.’ He stopped, and looked back the way they had come. ‘And there’s poor Dai where we left him, probably dead by now.’ He turned back to Jo. ‘Well, let’s see if we can find our way out of here, is it?’

Jo got up, and they continued to trudge down the long black gallery of the mine.

‘Who are you?’

Dr Stevens, flanked by Hinks and security guards, stared at the Doctor through the metal grille. Some little distance away Mark Elgin stood watching.

‘Most people call me the Doctor. And may I ask who you are, sir?’

‘My name is Stevens—Dr Stevens. I am the Director of this project.’

‘Delighted to meet you.’ The Doctor was about to put his hand through the grille to shake hands with his captor, when he realised it might be electrified. He withdrew quickly.

‘Now that you know who I am,’ continued Dr Stevens, ‘perhaps you would care to elaborate about yourself?’

‘I am attached to UNIT as a scientific adviser,’ said the Doctor. ‘Does that clarify the situation?’

Dr Stevens smiled. ‘Of course, the errant Doctor. We’ve been hoping you’d arrive, although not quite like this. Do you normally break into private property, especially when you’d be more than welcome arriving at the front door?’

‘I do very little
normally
,’ said the Doctor, ‘unless that is the quickest way to go about things. In this instance, an abnormal approach seemed more fitting. We urgently need cable-cutting equipment at the mine. You refused to give it. Yet my information is that it is stored in that shed over there.’

‘May I ask where you got this information?’ said Dr Stevens.

‘From someone to whom you loaned the equipment only recently,’ replied the Doctor.

‘Well,’ said Dr Stevens, ‘we certainly
did
have that kind of equipment here. But not now. It’s all been returned to our main stores in another part of the country. But to put your mind at rest, let us investigate.’

He pressed a button on the wall and the metal grille slid out of the way. Without a word Dr Stevens, accompanied by Hinks, crossed a concrete area to the equipment shed. Dr Stevens nodded and Hinks produced a key and unlocked the doors. The shed was completely empty.

‘You see?’ said Dr Stevens.

‘It seems I’ve been misinformed,’ said the Doctor.

‘Believe me, Doctor,’ said Dr Stevens, as he now walked the Doctor away from the empty shed, ‘Panorama Chemicals always tries to be a good neighbour. Our plant in Ethiopia has distributed thousands of tons of grain to the starving. In Persia and Saudi Arabia all local employees have free classes to learn to read and write their own languages.’

‘Most impressive,’ said the Doctor politely, even though he was being gently escorted off the premises.

‘If we had anything that could help the people of Llanfairfach,’ Dr Stevens went on, ‘we’d be only too glad to give it.’

From where Mark Elgin stood he could hear Dr Stevens’s voice fading away as he, the Doctor and Hinks went out of sight. Elgin crossed to the now open equipment shed and looked inside. He had passed this way only yesterday and had caught sight of masses of equipment in the shed. Where had it all gone? And why?

The Brigadier felt pleased with himself. Halfway to Newport he and Dave Griffiths had passed through a small town with an extraordinarily long Welsh name where the Brigadier had spotted the words ‘Crash Repairs’ over a local garage. He stopped the jeep immediately and called in to see the proprietor. They used oxyacetylene equipment to cut away damaged parts of cars. The owner of the garage, an ex-miner, was only too pleased to lend the Brigadier everything that was needed.

When the Brigadier got back to the pit head office he found the Doctor and Professor Jones, and a number of ex-miners who had turned up to help, had everything well organised. The donkey engine was in position; a new cable now led from the drum driven by the engine to the ‘up’ lift. All that remained was for the old cable to be cut and the lift would work independently.

‘You seem to have done well, Doctor,’ remarked the Brigadier. ‘Are there some old overalls I can borrow from someone?’