A mysterious power-loss strands the TARDIS on Exxilon,
a sinister fog-shrouded alien planet. Forced to brave the
dangers of the planet, the Doctor meets the survivors of a
beleaguered expedition from Earth searching for a
precious mineral that can save the galaxy from a terrible
space-plague. Sarah finds a mysterious super-City and
becomes a captive of the savage Exxilons, and, worst of
all, the Doctor's greatest enemies, the dreaded Daleks,
arrive on a secret mission of their own.
What terrifying power makes captives of all who come to
the planet? What is the secret of the mysterious deserted
City with its great flashing beacon? And what sinister plan
has brought the Daleks to Exxilon? The Doctor and Sarah
must risk their lives time and again in a desperate attempt
to foil the Daleks and save millions of humans from the
horrific plague.

ISBN 0 426 20042 X
A Target Book
Published in 1978
by the Paperback Division of W.H. Allen & Co. Ltd.
A Howard & Wyndham Company
44 Hill Street, London WIX 8LB

Text of book copyright © 1978 by Terrance Dicks Original script
copyright © 1974, 1978 by Terry Nation
'Doctor Who' series copyright © 1974, 1978 by the British
Broadcasting Corporation
Daleks created by Terry Nation

Printed in Great Britain by
Hunt Barnard Printing Ltd, Aylesbury, Bucks.

ISBN 0 426 20042 X




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
             DEATH TO THE
               DALEKS
Based on the BBC television serial Death to the Daleks by Terry
Nation by arrangement with the British Broadcasting Corporation




               TERRANCE DICKS




                        published by
                  The Paperback Division of
                   W. H. Allen & Co. Ltd
CONTENTS

Prologue
1 Death of a TARDIS
2 The Ambush
3 Expedition from Earth
4 The Deadly Arrivals
5 A Truce with Terror
6 The Sacrifice
7 Escape to the Unknown
8 Bellal
9 The Pursuit
10 The City Attacks
11 The Trap
12 The Nightmare
13 The Antibodies
14 The Last Victory
                            Prologue
       He was a dead man running.
       He ran blindly, desperately through the swirling green fog,
deep, sobbing breaths rasping into his tortured lungs. He knew there
was little hope. Somehow he had been separated from the others in
the ambush, and now his enemies were hunting him. Without
checking his run, he glanced back over his shoulder. Shadowy
figures were flitting through the dunes behind him.
       His foot slipped on a loose rock and he pitched forward on to
his face. He rolled over, scrambled to his feet and ran on, snatching
another quick look behind him. This time he saw nothing, but he
knew they were all around him, herding him across the dunes like a
hunted beast. As he ran, confused memories flashed through his
mind. Selection for this all-important mission, farewells to family
and friends on Earth, the landing on this isolated hell-planet. And
then—disaster. A superbly-equipped expedition, from one of the
most advanced cultures in the galaxy, suddenly and utterly helpless.
       He reached a small, stagnant pool, stopped to get his
bearings—and a black-cloaked, hooded figure rose up before him
like a ghost. He turned aside—and another appeared, barring his
path. He swung round. More silent figures had appeared behind him.
       He snatched the blaster from his belt and glared defiantly
around him. The weapon was useless on this planet, but if one of
them came close enough, he could use it as a club.
       There was a sudden blur of movement from one of the silent
figures and he felt a blow over the heart. It felt no worse than a heavy
punch, but when he looked down there was an arrow jutting from his
chest. More arrows thudded into his body and he staggered back,
falling with a splash into the little pool. As its darkness swallowed
him, his last, bitter thought was that he had failed. His entire mission
had failed, and because of that failure, untold millions would die a
hideous death...
                            1
                   Death of a TARDIS
       The police box, which was not a police box at all, sped through
that mysterious void where space and time are one. Inside the
impossibly large control room a tall, white-haired man with a deeply-
lined, young-old face was making a few final adjustments to the
instruments. Despite the ultra-modern nature of his surroundings, he
was dressed with old-fashioned elegance, in narrow trousers, velvet
smoking jacket and ruffled shirt.
       A door opened and an attractive, dark haired girl appeared. She
wore an abbreviated beach robe, over a twentieth century bathing
costume, and carried a big, striped beach bag. 'It's all in here, Doctor.
Sun glasses, sun lotion, water-wings...'
       The Doctor smiled. 'You won't need water-wings, Sarah.'
       'Oh yes I will. You said we were going swimming...'
       'You can't sink on Florana.'
       'I can sink anywhere,' said Sarah pessimistically. 'I need a life
jacket in my bath.'
       'The water on Florana is effervescent. The bubbles support
you.'
       'Sounds like swimming in a glass of health salts.'
       The Doctor was in great good humour. 'All right, Sarah, all
right. Just wait till you've seen Florana. It's the most beautiful
holiday planet in the galaxy.'
       Sarah felt contrite. It seemed unfair to be so suspicious when
the Doctor was in such a holiday mood. But somehow she just
couldn't help wondering if the Doctor's lavish promises about their
destination were really going to be fulfilled. During her relatively
brief acquaintance with the Doctor, the TARDIS had taken her to a
particularly violent era of England's medieval past, and to a London
mysteriously infested with dinosaurs.
       The Doctor had assured her that this time everything would be
different. To make up for these terrifying experiences he was taking
her to the most beautiful, the most peaceful planet in the galaxy.
       She noticed that a red light was flashing on the TARDIS
control console. Other lights began to flicker, and needles on the
instrument-dials were oscillating wildly. She looked at the Doctor,
but he was staring blissfully into space, still summoning up the
beauties of Florana. 'I always come away from those long golden
beaches feeling a hundred years younger...'
       'Doctor...'
       'And the beauty of Florana is that unlike your own little planet
it hasn't yet been spoiled by—'
       'Doctor, should that red light be flashing like that? And all
those others?'
       The Doctor swung round, and saw alarm signals registering all
over the TARDIS console. He dashed frantically around the console,
adjusting controls. A fuse blew with a crackle of sparks and a puff of
smoke. The lights in the control room went dim.
       Sarah was frankly terrified. 'What is it, Doctor, what's
happening?'
       'There seems to be a major power failure. Hang on, I'll cut in
the emergency circuits.' The Doctor pulled a lever and all at once
everything returned to normal. The main lights came up again, the
warning lights went out. 'That's a relief,' said the Doctor. 'If the
emergency units hadn't worked, we'd have been in real trouble.'
       The main lights began to fade, and the emergency signals on
the console started flickering once more.
       'It's happening again,' said Sarah. 'Do something, Doctor!'
       The Doctor was leaning over the controls, frowning in
concentration. For the TARDIS to fail in this way meant only one
thing. Some outside force was operating against it. A sudden fierce
jolt made him clutch the console for support, and sent Sarah
staggering. 'What's happened, Doctor ?'
       'I can tell you one thing, Sarah. We've landed.' He pointed to
the centre column which rose and fell steadily while the TARDIS
was in flight. It was motionless.
       One by one the warning lights on the TARDIS console started
to go out, and the indicator needles on the dials crept back towards
zero. The main lights grew dimmer and dimmer, and there was an
uncanny silence. 'It's as if the TARDIS is dying,' whispered Sarah.
       'I'd better try the scanner—while there's still enough power to
operate it,' said the Doctor. He threw the switch, and the scanner
screen lit up. The picture was dim and fuzzy and all it showed them
was sand dunes and swirling green fog. Slowly the picture faded and
the scanner screen went black. 'Fascinating,' murmured the Doctor.
       'What's so fascinating about fog?'
       'Perhaps that fog is what's putting the TARDIS out of action.'
       The concealed lights in the TARDIS ceiling began going out
one by one. Section after section of the TARDIS was plunged into
darkness. Finally one central light-source was left, bathing the
console, the Doctor and Sarah in a little circle of light. Then it too
began to fade.
       'Don't you have any other emergency power source?' asked
Sarah.
       'Yes, of course. I'll switch over to the back-up system.' He
threw a switch and the lights came up again. Sarah smiled with
relief—but not for long. Slowly the lights began to fade.
       'Dud battery?' suggested Sarah nervously.
       'Hardly. Listen.'
       'I can't hear anything.'
       'Exactly. Neither can I. Nothing at all. Not a click or a tick.
Nothing. The TARDIS is a living thing, hundreds of complex
instruments, working all the time. It's energy sources are perpetual—
never stop.'
       'Well, they have now. Everything's completely dead.'
       'It's just as you said. The TARDIS is dying.' The Doctor looked
around the control room. It was almost completely dark now, just the
faintest of glimmers from the central light. 'Sarah, look in that locker
over there. I think there should be a torch on the upper shelf.'
       Sarah opened the locker and groped inside. She took out an
enormous torch, the heavy industrial kind covered in black rubber.
She switched it on and a beam of bright light illuminated the console.
Sarah felt better immediately—until the beam of the torch began
slowly fading. In a matter of seconds it had died completely and the
darkness returned.
       The Doctor was hunting inside another locker. He emerged
carrying a large, old-fashioned lamp, the sort coal miners used to use.
Sarah managed a smile. 'Don't tell me—you're going to rub it and
produce a genie!'
       The Doctor held the lamp to his ear and shook it. 'On the
contrary, I'm going to cast some light on our situation!' He took a box
of old-fashioned sulphur matches from the locker, struck one and lit
the lamp. A pool of soft yellow light bathed the area around them.
       Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. 'Well, hooray for good old-
fashioned oil!'
       The Doctor turned up the wick and the light grew brighter.
'That's better. Now, we'd better go outside and find out where we
are.'
       Sarah gave him a sceptical look. 'I bet it isn't Florana!'
       He passed her the lantern. 'Hold this a minute, will you? The
door controls won't be working. I'll have to open them manually.' He
went to a tool locker in the base of the control console and took out
an iron lever, rather like the starting handle of an old-fashioned car.
Crossing to the doors, the Doctor slipped the handle into a wall
socket and began to turn it. Slowly the doors started to open, and
green fog drifted into the room. It seemed to chill the air. Sarah
shivered inside her beach robe. The Doctor opened the door a little
wider and went outside. Nervously Sarah followed.
       There was little enough to see. The TARDIS seemed to have
landed in the middle of sand dunes—their low rounded shapes
stretched away into the greenish fog.
       Coarse grey sand crunched underfoot as they moved cautiously
away from the TARDIS. Sarah shivered. 'It's so cold...'
       'Come on,' said the Doctor. 'Let's take a look around.' They
walked on through the dunes for quite some time. Suddenly Sarah
jumped back in terror as a menacing black figure loomed up out of
the fog.
       The Doctor held her arm. 'All right, Sarah, it's only a rock.' It
was a kind of monolith, a fantastically-carved shape in black stone.
He went to examine it more closely. 'It could be some kind of statue
or even some form of native life that became petrified long ago.'
       'I was pretty close to being petrified myself!'
       The Doctor picked up a handful of the coarse gravel-like sand
and rubbed it thoughtfully between his fingers. 'This part of the
planet seems quite dead, I doubt if anything has grown here for
centuries.'
       'Well, unless you're planning to settle down here and raise
lettuce, that doesn't seem too important.'
       The Doctor ignored her. 'If the rest of the place is like this,
then the whole planet may be completely lifeless.'
       'Look, Doctor, we're not on some kind of scientific study
expedition. All we want to do is get away from here.'
       'I quite agree. But to leave this planet, we must first understand
it.'
       'Why?'
       'Think! Some power emanating from this planet has drained
the TARDIS's energy banks. Now, either it's a natural phenomenon
or—'
       'Somebody or something is doing it deliberately.'
       The Doctor nodded like some teacher whose pupil has finally
come up with the answer. 'Exactly.'
       'Well, now we've got that settled, can't you just fix the
TARDIS and clear out?'
       'You're missing the point, Sarah. The trouble isn't in the
TARDIS. To get away from here we've got to find whatever's
blocking our energy-sources and neutralise it.'
       'And how do we do that?'
       'For the moment, I haven't the slightest idea.'
       'But unless we can do it, we're trapped? Stuck here forever?'
       'That's right,' said the Doctor cheerfully. 'So we'd better get
busy.'
       'What do we do first?'
       'We start by investigating the immediate area.'
       'All right,' said Sarah bravely. She shivered again, looking at
the shadowy dunes shrouded in green fog. It was bitterly cold. 'I'm
not exactly dressed for this climate though, am I ?'
       'What?' The Doctcr realised Sarah was still in bathing costume
and beach robe, ready for the promised beaches of Florana. 'For
goodness sakes, girl, go and get on something warm.'
       'All right. Don't go away, Doctor, will you?'
       The Doctor was absorbed in examining the black monolith
with his oil-lamp. Sarah gave him a despairing look, and hurried off
towards the TARDIS.
       The Doctor went on with his examination. The monolith could
be of natural origin. It was perfectly possible that swirling sand
storms had gradually carved the rock pillar into its present fantastic
shape. Or was it a statue of some kind, worn away by the passage of
time? Then there was the other theory he'd mentioned to Sarah.
Perhaps it was some creature of the planet, dead for untold thousands
of years, petrified into its present form. Perhaps it had once been one
of the planet's intelligent life-forms.
       Absorbed in his speculations, the Doctor didn't notice that
black-robed figures had appeared silently out of the fog. They began
stalking slowly towards him...
                              2
                         The Ambush
       Sarah slipped through the half open door of the TARDIS and
groped her way to the wardrobe locker. Working by touch she began
sorting out some clothes. Trousers, a heavy sweater, some
comfortable walking shoes and a nice warm jacket... Hurriedly she
started to change.

      The Doctor went on examining the monolith, while behind him
black-robed shapes edged ever closer...

        Outside the TARDIS Sarah looked fearfully around. The fog-
shadowed dunes looked as sinister as ever, but now she felt better
equipped to cope with its unknown dangers. You could hardly be
expected to tackle some alien monstrosity when you were wearing a
bathing suit. She looked for the glow of the Doctor's lantern, but saw
only blackness and swirling fog.
        'Doctor!' she called. No reply. 'Doctor! Are you there?' Still the
silence. Nervously Sarah began hurrying in the direction of the stone
pillar.
        (As she hurried off a black-clad shape slipped from behind the
TARDIS and stood poised, looking after her. It hovered as if about to
attack, then turned, moving silently towards the still-open TARDIS
door.)
        Sarah was beginning to fear that she'd missed her way. There
was no sign of the Doctor. She couldn't even see the monolith.
Hoping desperately that the Doctor wasn't too far away Sarah called,
'Doctor? Doctor, I'm lost. Where are you?' Silence. She heard a faint
scuttling sound behind her and turned in alarm, but there was nothing
to be seen. Only the rolling sand dunes and the swirling fog.
        In sudden panic Sarah started to run, and blundered straight
into something that grabbed at her. She screamed and pulled away,
but it was only a scrubby thorn-bush that had caught on her jacket.
Freeing herself, Sarah gazed round in panic—and caught a sudden
glimpse of a tall figure carrying an oil lamp. With a sob of relief she
ran up to it—then stopped in disappointment. It wasn't the Doctor at
all. It was the statue-like rock where she'd last seen him. The oil lamp
was perched on a stone spur that stuck out like an arm.
        'Doctor!' she shouted. 'Doctor, where are you?' There was no
reply. She went up to the monolith and took down the lamp. It felt
sticky to her touch and she looked closely at her fingers. They were
smeared with blood.
        Sarah dropped the lamp—which went out, leaving her in
darkness. She stood for a moment, fighting down her panic. Should
she go and look for the Doctor? In this foggy darkness she would be
exposed and vulnerable to whatever enemy had attacked him. She
decided to go back to the TARDIS and wait. She'd be safe there, and
there was always a chance that the Doctor would come back to find
her. If he didn't, she would go out and look for him when it got light.
        Pausing a moment to get her bearings, she headed back
towards the TARDIS.
        As she hurried along, she heard strange noises all around her.
At times she thought she saw black shapes flitting through the
darkness. But she reached the TARDIS safely enough, and paused,
sobbing for breath. Telling herself sternly not to make matters worse
by imagining things, she went inside.
        Back in the darkened control room, Sarah was angry with
herself for not bringing the blood-smeared lamp. Now she'd have to
try to find another one, and some more matches too. She paused for a
moment by the door of the TARDIS, looking out over the sand
dunes, half-hoping to see the Doctor hurrying towards her. But he
was nowhere in sight. She heard movements from out in the fog, and
realised she'd left the TARDIS door open. She went to the crank, still
in its wall socket, and began to turn it. Slowly the door started to
close. The crank was stiff and it took all Sarah's strength to move it.
Absorbed in her task, she didn't see the tall black shape that rose
from its hiding place behind the control panel... A whisper of sudden
movement caught her ear, and she turned to see a bat-like figure
swooping down on her, eyes gleaming evilly beneath a monk-like
hood.
       Her hand was still on the crank-handle, and snatching it from
its socket, she swung it in terror at the approaching shape. The iron
handle thudded down on to the black hood. The creature gave a shrill
cry of pain and flopped to the ground.
       Sarah turned to run but thanks to her own efforts, the door was
now closed again. Hurriedly she rammed the handle back in its
socket and started winding it the other way.
       As she turned the handle she kept a wary eye on the creature
on the floor. To her horror she saw that it was stirring. She wound
the handle faster and faster. Soon the door was open wide enough to
get through. As she moved towards it, the creature came suddenly to
life. Lunging towards her, it grabbed her ankle with a skinny claw.
Sarah pulled the handle free, and smashed it down across the bony
arm. With a shriek of pain it released her, and she slipped through the
gap and out across the dunes.
       As she ran desperately on, Sarah became aware that the
darkness was no longer quite so thick. The fog was lifting, and in the
sky above her were the first pale streaks of dawn.

       The Doctor was being marched along a path between the
dunes, escorted by two hooded black-robed figures. The one in front
was dragging him along by a rope which formed a noose around his
neck. The one behind was carrying a flaming torch.
       The Doctor stumbled onwards, tugged on by a jerk on the rope
whenever he slowed down. His head was slumped, he was bleeding
from a cut on his forehead, and he moved like a man barely
conscious. But in reality the Doctor wasn't nearly as badly off as he
was making out. His strength was returning rapidly, and he was
deliberately exaggerating his weakness in the hope of catching his
captors off guard.
       His mind went quickly back over his capture. Alerted by the
faintest of noises he had looked up—and immediately the alien had
pounced, claw-like hands seizing him by the throat. It was wiry and
incredibly strong, but once over his surprise the Doctor reckoned he
would have been able to deal with it. Indeed, he had already broken
free—when another of the creatures had snatched up the brass lamp
and aimed a savage blow at his head. The Doctor had caught a brief
glimpse of gleaming eyes in a distorted face—then the heavy lamp
had taken him across the forehead and he'd blacked out.
      And now here he was, a captive of these hideous creatures.
Presumably they were taking him back to their base. The Doctor was
determined to break free before they arrived. He might be able to
deal with two of the aliens but he didn't want to take on any more.
      Choosing his moment, the Doctor gave a feeble groan,
stumbled artistically, and collapsed on the path. The leading alien
jerked savagely on the noose, but the Doctor didn't move. The one
with the torch knelt beside the Doctor to examine him, shoving the
burning torch towards his face. To its surprise, the alien saw that the
Doctor's eyes were wide open and alert. A bony fist shot out with
savage force, taking the alien under the chin, and it slumped back
unconscious. Immediately the Doctor was on his feet. The second
alien yanked on the noose, pulling him off-balance, but the Doctor
grabbed the rope and snatched it from the alien's hand. With a
screech of rage it rushed into the attack. Rolling over backwards the
Doctor shot up both legs. The alien flew a surprising distance
through the air and landed further down the rocky path with a thud
that knocked it senseless. The Doctor got to his feet and pulled the
noose from his neck. He tossed it aside, looked at his unconscious
opponents with satisfaction and turned back the way he had come.
The first thing to do was find Sarah. He only hoped she'd had the
sense to wait in the TARDIS...

      But Sarah was some way from the TARDIS by now, running
across the dunes with no clear idea where she was going. At first it
had been enough to get away from the flapping horror in the control
room. But she was beginning to realise that she couldn't just run on
indefinitely. She must stop and make a plan.
      Ahead of her the dunes were rising sharply. It was light
enough now for her to see that the dune area formed a kind of giant
bowl—and she was coming to its edge. She toiled on up the slope
wondering what lay on the other side of the steep rise—and froze as
she heard swift, shuffling footsteps close behind her.
       Not far away, the winds had scooped an overhanging ledge
into the side of the nearest dime. Sarah left the path and flung herself
down, rolling over and tucking herself beneath the ledge for cover.
       She lay very still, doing her best to burrow her way into the
sand. From her hiding place she saw two black-cloaked, hooded
forms loping along the path towards her. They came nearer, nearer—
and stopped. They held a brief, agitated conference. One of them
turned and ran back down the path. The other hovered for a moment,
and followed.
       She waited until they were out of sight, then came out of her
hiding place, trying to work out what had been happening. Clearly
the creatures had been on her track—and equally clearly, they had
been reluctant to go further up the path.
       Sarah decided anywhere those hooded horrors wanted to keep
away from was the right place for her. She began climbing up the
steep track as fast as she could, and a few minutes later she stood on
the crest of the rise. She stopped, eyes widening in amazement.
       Ahead of her stretched a vast plain made of smooth level rock.
It was as though someone had sliced off the top of a mountain with a
giant cleaver. In the centre of this plateau there was a City. It was
made of white, gleaming marble-like stone and its towers stretched
upwards to the dark clouds that floated across the grey morning sky.
The design was ultra-modern, all smooth level surfaces and squared
off, geometrically regular shapes, with something of the towering
majesty of the Aztec temples of Earth. Adjoining the City was an
enormous tower, and at the top of this tower was a beacon. It pulsed
in a steady, regular rhythm like some colossal lighthouse.
       For some time Sarah stood there, gazing in awe. There was a
civilisation on this planet after all. Perhaps the creature that had
attacked her was merely one of the barbarians of this world, one of
the savages who skulked outside the City without daring to approach.
Only an advanced, ultra-civilised race could build a place such as
this. Surely they would help her to rescue the Doctor, help to repair
the TARDIS and send them on their way. Full of renewed hope,
Sarah set off towards the City.
       The Doctor meanwhile was trying to find his way back to the
TARDIS. Unfortunately, the dunes looked much alike, and he had no
idea how far, or indeed in what direction, his captors had dragged
him while he was semi-conscious. Now he too had come to the edge
of the dunes, to an area of wild broken country strewn with huge
boulders, the lower slopes of the range of mountains that fringed the
area. For a moment the Doctor considered turning back—he certainly
hadn't come this way before. But if he did that he risked losing
himself again. He decided to climb higher and get a general view of.
the area. With luck he might even be able to spot the TARDIS. He
started to climb the rocky path ahead of him. The path rose steeply,
and soon it was enclosed in high rock walls as it wound across the
face of the mountain. The Doctor marched determinedly on. If he
could scale that spur just ahead and look back the way he had come...
       Suddenly he found that he had stopped, and was staring
cautiously about him. It was as if his subconscious mind had spotted
some danger and was trying to warn him. He studied the path ahead.
There was no sound, no movement. Everything was normal. He took
a few cautious paces forward, and stopped again. Stretching across
the path, concealed under some loose brushwood, there was a rope. It
was obviously designed to trip anyone coming along the path. He
touched it with a cautious finger. It was taut, like a bow string. The
ends disappeared into the shrubs on either side of the path.
       The Doctor looked thoughtfully at the rope, and backed away.
He picked up a football-sized rock and lobbed it hard along the path.
As the rock hit the rope, there was a grinding sound from the hillside
above, and a huge boulder smashed down on to the path—at exactly
the point where a passer-by would have been standing when his foot
touched the rope. The boulder rolled across the path and disappeared
down the mountainside.
       Crude, but effective, thought the Doctor, as the rumbling died
away. He wondered what other traps were waiting for him—and
suddenly someone jumped him from behind. At first the Doctor
assumed that his black-cloaked enemies had caught up with him.
Then he saw that the arm across his throat was clad in silvery-grey
plastic-type material—and the knife that was stabbing towards his
chest was made from a single piece of metal —a spaceman's knife.
Interesting as this was, there were more urgent problems. The Doctor
dug his chin into his chest to counter the stranglehold, grabbed his
attacker's knife-wrist with both hands, swept a leg round his
attacker's ankle and threw himself backwards. He crashed to the
ground, his assailant beneath him. But the shock of the fall broke the
Doctor's grip. The attacker rolled away, sprang to his feet and came
into the attack, knife held low. As the knife flashed forward the
Doctor grabbed desperately for the knife-wrist and caught it yet
again. But the Doctor was still in an awkward crouch: his opponent
was poised and determined and very strong. He loomed over the
Doctor, blocking out the light. The knife came closer and closer to
the Doctor's throat...
                           3
                 Expedition from Earth
       A hand appeared, knocking the knife aside. Roughly the
newcomer pulled the attacker away. 'All right, Galloway, that's
enough. You can see he's not an Exxilon.'
       The man called Galloway stepped back, the killing anger
fading from his face. 'Aye, you're right. But it was all so quick. He
sprung the trap, d'you see, and then we were fighting...'
       The newcomer helped the Doctor to his feet. 'I'm sorry,' he said
gruffly. 'We've had a pretty bad time on this planet. Quite a few of us
have been killed. Dan Galloway here tends to attack first and ask
questions afterwards. My name's Railton, by the way...'
       Dusting himself down, the Doctor studied the two men.
Galloway, the one who'd attacked him, was big and burly, with a
barrel-chest and great hairy hands. The second man was considerably
smaller and several years older, with thinning hair and a lined,
careworn face. Both wore astronaut-type uniforms with military
insignia, both had blasters and knives in their belts.
       Galloway was carrying a bow, improvised, the Doctor noticed,
from a flexible plastic rod. A plastic quiver filled with arrows of
sharpened cane hung over his shoulder.
       Rubbing his bruises, the Doctor said ruefully, 'I'm the Doctor. I
can understand how you feel, gentlemen. I was attacked myself as
soon as I arrived. Perhaps you can tell me—'
       Galloway was looking back down the path. 'Something
moving,' he whispered urgently. 'Getting closer.'
       Railton tensed. The Doctor listened. From around the bend of
the path came a faint shuffling sound. Railton said urgently, 'You'd
better come back to base with us. We can talk safely there.'
       Galloway was already scrambling over the rocks, moving
away from the path. Railton set off after him and the Doctor
followed. Soon all three had disappeared amongst the tumbled rocks.
       Minutes later a black-cloaked figure appeared. Others
followed. They stood for a moment, almost as if sniffing the air, then
set off over the rocks after their prey.

        Galloway led the way over the broken ground at a terrific pace.
He doubled back in a wide loop and soon they were moving along
the edge of a low cliff at a point where the rocks bordered the dunes.
Galloway made for a shallow niche in the rock face, and the Doctor
saw that a small plastic survival dome had been erected against the
base of the cliff. It was a good position, protected from above by the
overhang of the cliff, shielded on each side by the arms of the V-
shaped niche. As they headed for the dome, a man with a bow and
arrow seemed to rise out of the ground. The Doctor looked closer and
saw that a protective trench had been dug just in front of them.
        At the sight of the Doctor's companions, the sentry lowered his
bow and gave a cheerful grin. He was considerably younger than the
other two with brown hair and a round cheerful face.
        Railton returned the wave. 'All right, Peter, it's only us. We've
got a visitor, but he's quite friendly.'
        'We hope!' muttered Galloway. He was still keeping a wary
eye on the Doctor, his hand close to the hilt of his knife.
        Railton led the way into the dome, slapping the sentry on the
shoulder as he went by. 'Keep a sharp look out, Peter. Dan heard
some movement back there.'
        Peter gave a quick salute. 'Aye, aye, sir.' He sank back into his
trench, eyes scanning the broken ground ahead.
        The Doctor looked round the dome. He was in a large circular
chamber, divided into different sections. There were sleeping bags
against the wall, and in the central area there was a scattered pile of
partially-unpacked crates which appeared to contain some kind of
mining equipment. Near the crates was an assortment of improvised
weapons—clubs, spears, slingshots, bows and arrows, made partly
from steel and plastic, partly from wood and rock.
        On the far side of the dome screens had been set up forming a
little cubicle. Inside it, on a makeshift bed, lay a heavily bandaged
man. A young woman was kneeling beside him, tucking an aerofoil
space blanket into place. She straightened up at the sight of the
others, brushing back fair hair from her forehead. 'Who's this? Did
you find Jack?'
       Railton didn't reply, and there was an awkward silence. Then
Galloway said brutally, 'Aye, we found him, right enough. Floating
in one of the pools, stuck full of arrows like a hedgehog.'
       The young woman gave a gasp of horror and Railton said
gently, 'We buried him out there, Jill. It seemed best.'
       The girl nodded, absorbing the shock. She looked at the
Doctor. 'And who's this then?'
       Galloway said. 'He calls himself the Doctor. We found him,
out there.'
       'This is Jill Tarrant, Doctor,' said Railton. 'She's our mining
engineer. The lad on guard outside is Peter Hamilton.'
       'There are just the"five of you then ?'
       'There used to be ten,' said Galloway bleakly. 'Two were killed
in that first ambush. Three more have been picked off since.'
       Railton looked at the man on the bed. He was dozing uneasily.
'This is Commander Stewart, the leader of our expedition. He was
wounded in the first ambush.'
       'Commander? You're a military expedition then?'
       'Mixed,' said Railton. 'Miss Tarrant and I are scientists. The
rest are all M.S.C.'
       The Doctor frowned. 'M.S.C.?'
       'Marine Space Corps,' said Galloway. 'You've plenty of
questions, Doctor: Now maybe you'll tell us something about
yourself? Where do you come from? And where were you heading
when I jumped you?'
       'Back to the TARDIS—my space-ship.' The Doctor gave a
brief account of his arrival on the planet, the mysterious power
failure, and the ambush which had separated him from Sarah. 'I only
hope she had the sense to stay in the ship,' he concluded. 'But I'm
afraid Sarah's inclined to be headstrong. By now she's probably out
looking for me.'
       'Then she's probably dead by now,' said Galloway.
       The Doctor gave him a frown, and Railton said, 'She might still
be all right, Doctor, as long as she's careful. The Exxilons are mainly
night creatures.'
        'Exxilons? I take it those are the inhabitants of this planet—the
unfriendly gentlemen in the cloaks and hoods?'
        Railton nodded. 'They usually keep out of sight in the day
time. Maybe they won't find her.'
        'Just as long as she doesn't go near the forbidden city,' added
Jill. 'That's guarded day and night.'
        Gloomily Galloway said, 'Aye, that's right. Anyone they catch
nearby—that's their lot.' He made a slashing gesture.
        'We've seen Exxilon prisoners being taken from near the City
into a big cavern where most of them live,' said Jill. 'We're not sure,
but we think they're sacrificed.'
        The Doctor felt somewhat overwhelmed with all this new
information. But it was vital that he absorb it as quickly as possible.
The more he knew about the planet, the better his chances of finding
Sarah, and of finally escaping from it altogether. He looked round at
the others. 'I've only just arrived on this singularly unpleasant planet,
and you've obviously been here for some time. I'd be very much
obliged if you'd tell me all you can...

       Sarah moved on across the rocky plateau. The sun was up by
now, larger and closer than the sun of Earth. It blazed down at her
from a coppery sky, and reflected upwards from the bare rocks. She
could feel their heat through the soles of her shoes. Hot, tired and
thirsty, Sarah stumbled on. Perhaps the City would be a kind of
Arabian Nights palace, she thought. There would be cool courtyards
with gently splashing fountains, and white-robed attendants with
long cool drinks in golden goblets...
       The City was very close now. Its white buildings rose up and
up, blotting out the sky. Sarah paused to look again. There was
something uncanny about the City, for all its beauty. There seemed to
be no windows, no gates or doors. It was as if the City was blind.
       Sarah hurried on. The last stretch of baking rock seemed
endless, but she reached the walls of the City at last. White, smooth
and unbroken they towered high above her, stretching away on either
side as far as she could see.
       Sarah went right up to the wall, and examined it curiously. At
this close range she could see that it was made of enormous blocks,
with only the finest of lines to mark the place where one block joined
another. The wall was so bright and clean that it might have been
built just a few hours ago. There was no dirt or dust, no sign of
ageing or wear. Here and there elaborate patterns were cut into the
wall. Sarah reached out and touched one of the patterns in front of
her. The block on which it was carved was smooth and warm—and it
tingled. Sarah snatched her hand away. The wall seemed to carry a
mild electric charge. Perhaps that was what repelled the dirt—a kind
of self-cleaning device. The people who had built this City must be
very advanced indeed. She wished they'd been a bit more generous in
the matter of gates and doors.
       There was something else strange about the wall—a sound, a
faint electronic hum. It was as though the entire City was somehow
alive. She reached out and touched the wall again and heard a
guttural snarl of anger.
       Sarah whirled round. A group of black-cloaked, black-hooded
figures had appeared behind her. She looked round for escape but she
was surrounded. She backed away fearfully, but the wall of the City
was behind her, cutting off her escape.
       Bony hands outstretched, the horrifying nightmare figures
advanced...
                           4
                   The Deadly Arrivals
       Munching on a tube of food concentrate, and washing it down
with water from a plastic bulb, the Doctor listened to Railton's
account of the planet Exxilon and its strange inhabitants. The planet
itself was bleak and barren, consisting mainly of sand dunes, rocks
and deserts, with little vegetation or animal life. It was freezing cold
and foggy at night, almost unbearably hot by day. Exxilon was a very
old planet, with most of its resources drained and exhausted. It was
Railton's theory that the planet had once been the home of some
super-race which had since died out, or perhaps moved on to some
other world.
       Certainly, the present-day Exxilons were no more than
ferocious savages. They had no civilisation, no machinery of any
kind, only the simplest of weapons and tools. They appeared to live
in a vast network of caves which honeycombed the planet, lurking
underground by day, and coming out mainly at night. They were
fiercely hostile, refusing all attempts at friendly contact, and
attacking all strangers on sight. 'They could never have built anything
like the City,' concluded Railton.
       The Doctor finished his food-cube, wondering why no one
ever managed to make the wretched things taste pleasant. 'This City
you keep talking about... what does it look like?'
       Railton said, 'Pass me the visual file, Jill. We've got some
satellite pictures here, Doctor.' He passed a set of photographs across
to the Doctor.
       The Doctor studied them. Aerial views of miles of rocky
terrain, with an occasional lake or pool. Dried-up rivers, and a kind
of inland sea. Magnified shots that showed bands of black-robed
figures scuttling across the face of the planet, ducking into cave
mouths to hide. And finally the City, white, gleaming, enormous,
towering into the coppery sky, the great tower with its beacon built
on to its side. 'It seems to be the only building complex on the
planet,' said Railton. 'It's bigger than a hundred ordinary cities. It's a
fantastic place. It must have been built thousands of years ago, yet it
still looks brand new.'
        The Doctor studied the photographs. 'Fantastic, certainly. Have
you ever been inside?'
        Railton shook his head. 'We tried, but there doesn't seem to be
any way in.'
        'Not that we had very much time to look for one,' said
Galloway. 'The Exxilons attacked as soon as we went near the place.
We barely got away from there alive.'
        The Doctor closed the file and handed it back. 'And what about
your other problems? Forgive me for saying so, but your expedition
seems to be in a pretty bad way.'
        Railton nodded in gloomy agreement. 'We had a similar
experience to your own, Doctor. As soon as we got close to Exxilon
we had a total malfunction on all instruments. We managed to touch
down without damaging the ship—but we can't take off again.'
        Galloway exploded. 'So we're stuck here on this stinking
planet.' He tapped the blaster in his belt. 'Our weapons are as useless
as the ship—and the Exxilons are picking us off one by one.'
        'Why did you come here in the first place?' The Doctor looked
at the scattered crates of equipment. 'Some kind of mining operation,
I take it?'
        Jill Tarrant said, 'We came for the Parrinium.' She looked at
the Doctor as if that explained everything.
        The Doctor was puzzled. 'Parrinium?'
        'It's a mineral, Doctor, a kind of trace element. On most planets
it's so rare that it's absolutely priceless. Then a detector satellite did a
fly-past on this planet and found huge surface deposits. It's as
common here as salt.'
        'Forgive me, but what do you want it for?'
        By now all three were staring at him in utter astonishment.
'Where have you been hiding, man?' asked Galloway.
        'Oh, here and there, one place and another,' said the Doctor
apologetically. 'I'm afraid I've been a little out of touch.'
        Jill Tarrant's face was grave. 'Earth's colonies on the outer
worlds are being ravaged by a terrible disease. A kind of space
plague. No one knows where it came from or how it started, but the
colonists are dying in their thousands. Millions more will die unless
we help them—and every hour we're stuck on this planet the death
roll is mounting.'
        'Parrinium can cure this disease?'
        'Completely. It cures, and it gives immunity. But we need it in
quantity, and we need it fast. Unless it's delivered within a month it
will be too late. We managed to get an emergency message out
before the power failed. We asked them to send a relief ship.'
        'The message never arrived,' said Galloway. 'If it had, we'd
have had help by now.'
        The Doctor said thoughtfully, 'Then we must act on the
assumption that none is coming, and help ourselves. The first thing to
do is to find out what's causing the power drain. My theory is that it's
something to do with that City and its beacon. As soon as I've found
Sarah we'll mount a joint expedition...'
        Galloway was bristling with anger. 'Now hold on a minute.
What gives you the right to make plans for us?'
        'My concern for those dying millions,' said the Doctor crisply.
'Not to mention our own lives. You haven't been doing too well so
far, have you?'
        Railton sighed. 'I'm afraid that's true, Doctor. Personally I'd be
happy to join forces.'
        Galloway jabbed a thumb at the wounded man on the bed.
'Commander Stewart's still alive, isn't he? Well, I take my orders
from him!—and no-one else.'
        'I'm not talking about giving orders,' snapped the Doctor. 'I'm
talking about co-operation—and about survival. So you'd better—'
He broke off suddenly. 'Listen!' A faint droning sound was coming
from high overhead.
        Peter Hamilton dashed into the dome, almost incoherent with
excitement. 'The relief ship,' he spluttered. 'It's here!'
        They all ran outside the dome, and stared up at the sky. 'Did
you see it, Peter?' asked Railton.
        'No... I heard it though. Up there in the heat haze... over to the
north, I think:
       'Probably making a spiral descent,' said Galloway excitedly.
'We should hear her again in a moment.'
       Sure enough, a few minutes later, the low droning returned. It
grew louder, and louder. 'Here she comes,' shouted Jill. High above
them a gleaming metal shape flashed out of the clouds, then
disappeared into the haze.
       Peter Hamilton was on top of the nearest boulder. 'I can see
her,' he shouted. 'They're landing in the next valley. Come on!' He set
off across the rocks at a run, and the others followed. Caught up in
the general excitement, the Doctor followed.
       As the little group disappeared, two black-robed figures
slipped from behind a nearby rock. Stealthily the Exxilons crept
towards the dome.

       Commander Stewart twisted and turned in fever-ridden sleep.
The pain from his wounds, and above all his concern for his vital
mission, fought with the drugs he had been given, and dragged him
back to uneasy wakefulness. He licked dry lips and croaked 'Water...
water...' A shadow fell over him, and he opened his eyes. Two black-
clad figures loomed above him. Too weak to scream, Commander
Stewart watched helplessly as they swooped down towards him,
blotting out the light.

      One of her captors snatched the blindfold from her eyes, and
for a moment Sarah thought she was in church. An arched roof rose
high above her head, a choking smell of incense caught at her throat
and the air was full of a deep sonorous chanting.
      Her vision cleared and she gazed dazedly around her. She was
in a huge cave, not a church, though its roof rose as high as that of
any cathedral. It was lit by flaring torches, set at intervals round the
rocky walls, and it was crowded with black-robed figures.
      At the far side of the cavern, opposite what looked like a
tunnel entrance, was a low stone altar. The guards dragged Sarah
towards it. Now she was at close quarters with her captors, Sarah
could see the faces beneath their hoods. The sight did nothing to
reassure her. Although they were more or less humanoid, the faces
were brutal, misshapen, degenerate, with loose mouths, flat noses
and small close-set eyes glinting evilly. She could feel the pressure
of fear and hatred as the crowd pressed close around her.
       There was a space before the altar, and the guards thrust Sarah
into the middle of it and stepped back. Behind the altar, one of the
aliens stood on a raised platform. His bestial face was old and
wrinkled, his robe was of finer quality than the others, and a necklace
of barbaric ornaments glinted around his neck. He pointed a long
skinny finger at Sarah and began to speak.
       Sarah's mind went back to the fantasy of being in church. In a
way it was true, she realised. She was in a kind of church, a temple
of whatever religion these strange beings followed. And now the
vicar was delivering his sermon.
       Although she couldn't make out the words, the alien priest's
tone and gestures made it clear what he was saying. She was being
accused of some terrible crime. The high priest's speech drew angry
roars of assent from the crowd. The priest's tone changed. His voice
became deeper, graver, as if sentence was being pronounced. He
pointed to Sarah, to the altar, and puzzlingly, to the tunnel entrance
that lay just behind it.
       Two alien priests came forward, carrying a kind of loose cloak
ornamented with strange symbols. They draped the garment over
Sarah's shoulders, seized her arms, and began dragging her towards
the altar. All at once Sarah realised what was happening. She was
going to be sacrificed ! She began struggling wildly as they dragged
her towards the altar.

       Hamilton led the little party across the rocky hills. They moved
quickly, pressing hopefully onwards, charged with new energy by
their excitement. The Doctor, bringing up the rear, couldn't help
feeling that all this optimism was a bit excessive. This second
expedition would still have to overcome the problems faced by the
first. But he could understand their relief now that they were no
longer alone, their delight at the prospect of seeing faces from home.
       They struggled to the top of a rise. Peter Hamilton pointed.
'Look, there it is!'
       The space ship was just settling down to land in the centre of
the rocky plain ahead of them, the flames of its retro-rockets dying
away. Clouds of smoke and dust rose up around it, obscuring the
shape.
       'Come on!' shouted Jill and began running down the other side
of the hill. The others followed.
       By the time they reached the ship the smoke had drifted away.
It sat gleaming in the centre of the barren plain, the basic flying-
saucer shape common. to most interstellar craft. Peter Hamilton
stared at it in puzzlement, and turned to Railton. 'It doesn't look much
like an Earth ship to me, sir.'
       Galloway said, 'It's maybe some new experimental model—
that new Z-47 they've been planning.' But there was no conviction in
his voice,
       Railton mopped the Sweat from his forehead. 'She's not a
Space Corps craft,' he said slowly.
       The Doctor said nothing. He stood gazing thoughtfully up at
the ship.
       'What do you think, Doctor?' asked Railton.
       'I think we'll know soon enough.'
       Galloway stared uneasily at the ship. 'Why don't they come
out?'
       'Maybe they've run into the power drain, just as we did,'
suggested Jill. 'You remember, we could barely get our doors open.'
       Peter cupped his hands. 'Come out whoever you are,' he
shouted. 'The welcome party's here!'
       As if in response there was a laboured hiss of hydraulic power.
Slowly, very slowly, a landing ramp slid out of the ship and a door
above it opened. Two squat metallic shapes glided swiftly down the
ramp. Two more appeared in the doorway of the ship.
       Jill Tarrant gave a gasp of horror. 'Daleks!'
       One of the Daleks in the ship's doorway spoke in the metallic
grating voice that the Doctor had known and hated for so long.
       'The humans are to be exterminated. Fire at: my command!'
       The Daleks at the foot of the ramp swung their gun-sticks to
cover the little party.
       Railton ran foward, his arms held out in appeal. 'Wait a
minute,' he called. 'Wait, please! You can't...'
       The Dalek leader grated, 'Fire!'
                           5
                  A Truce with Terror
       Nothing happened.
       The Dalek weapons gave a series of metallic clicks. 'Maximum
power,' screamed the leader. 'Fire! Fire! Fire!'
       There were more clicks. One of the Daleks swung its eye-stalk
round towards its leader. 'Weaponry malfunction. Total power failure
in all armament circuits.'
       The stunned silence was broken by the sound of the Doctor's
laughter. 'Well, well, well! Daleks—without the power to kill. How
does it feel?'
       He strolled closer to the ramp and the Dalek sentries swung
their guns to cover him, emitting a further series of futile clicks.
'Keep back! Keep back!' There was a note of panic in the metallic
screech.
       The Doctor smiled. 'And if I don't, what will you do? Your
weapons are useless here. They've been affected by the energy
blackout that stranded the rest of us.'
       The Dalek leader said arrogantly, 'The failure is temporary.
Superior Dalek technology will overcome this interference. You will
obey our orders.'
       'You're not in any position to give orders,' pointed out the
Doctor. 'We're all in this together. All equal—and all equally
powerless.'
       The Dalek responded to this taunt with one of the ranting,
boasting speeches so common to its species.
       'The Daleks are the supreme beings of the universe. Dalek
technology is the most advanced in the entire cosmos.'
       By now Railton had realised that his enemies really were
helpless. 'Spare us the Dalek propaganda,' he said boldly. 'You're no
better off than we are. What we ought to do is join forces.'
       Rejection was automatic.
       'The Daleks do not require the co-operation of inferior species.'
       'Think about it,' urged Railton. There are five of us and only
four of you. This planet is swarming with hostile aliens who want
nothing better than to destroy all of us. Surely the fact must penetrate
even Dalek arrogance!'
       There was a brief silence. Then the Dalek leader said, 'We will
confer.' The Daleks in the doorway disappeared into the ship. The
two sentry Daleks glided up the ramp and followed them.
       Railton mopped the sweat from his brow. 'Well, what do you
think, Doctor?'
       The Doctor said nothing for a moment. Railton's initiative in
suggesting an alliance had taken him by surprise, and now he was
busy thinking out possible moves and counter moves. 'It's a daring
plan,' he said slowly. 'And they might just possibly agree with it. But
I advise you not to trust them.'
       'I don't,' said Railton grimly. 'But at the moment we need all
the help we can get.'
       'We don't need the Daleks,' said Galloway furiously. 'There's
nothing they can do we can't do better on our own.'
       'They happen to be brilliant technicians,' said the Doctor
quietly. 'Their inventive genius has made them one of the great
powers of the universe. Bear that in mind.'
       'Exactly,' agreed Railton. 'If they can find some way out of
this, we can turn it to our advantage.'
       Peter said miserably, 'But Daleks, sir ! My father was killed in
the Dalek wars. Dan lost his entire family. I hate the idea of co-
operating with them.'
       'Your father was just one man,' said Railton quietly. 'Millions
will die if we can't get the Parrinium off of this planet.' He turned to
the Doctor. 'Do you think they'll agree?'
       The Doctor kept his eyes on the space ship door. 'I'm not sure.
We'll just have to wait and see.'
       The Dalek leader appeared in the doorway of the ship. 'We
wish to confer further. You will be the spokesman. Come!' Its useless
gun-stick was pointing at the Doctor. The Doctor hesitated, then
shrugged. After all, they couldn't really harm him. Reflecting that it
was a new sensation to enter a Dalek ship of his own accord, he
climbed slowly up the ramp.
       Time went by. The others waited, wondering what was going
on inside that gleaming metal sphere. Peter drew Galloway aside.
'What do you think about this idea of co-operating with the Daleks?'
       'It might work—for a while.'
       'I think Railton's gone soft,' whispered Hamilton.
       'Aye, mebbe so. He's scared of the wee salt-shakers, I can tell
you that. I saw his face when they came out of the ship.'
       'Look, our spokesman's coming back.'
       The Doctor came back down the ramp.
       Well?' demanded Railton. 'What did they say?'
       The Doctor rubbed his chin. 'They're still very suspicious, but I
think they'll go along with your plan. They don't have much choice.'
The Doctor's voice hardened. 'But I warn you, we must watch them
all the time. We can't trust them an inch.'
       'Did you manage to find out what they're doing here ?' asked
Jill.
       'Several of their own colony planets are suffering from the
disease. It seems even Daleks aren't immune. They need the
Parrinium just as much as you do. That's why they may be prepared
to co-operate.'

      Inside the control room of the Dalek ship, a final conference
was ending. 'It is agreed,' grated the Dalek leader. 'We will co-
operate until the humans are of no further use to us. Our true motives
in seeking the Parrinium must remain a secret. Understood. The
humans must continue to believe that there are only four of us.' The
Dalek leader swivelled its arm-stick towards the three other Daleks,
unseen, and so far unsuspected, by the Doctor and his party. 'You
will remain on board ship and carry out weaponry experiments as
ordered.'
      'We obey.'
      The three Daleks glided away, and the other four moved
towards the door.
       The members of the Earth expedition waited tensely as four
Daleks glided down the ramp towards them. Only the Doctor seemed
calm.
       'Well? Have you decided?'
       'For the moment a truce exists between our party and yours.'
       'Very well. It seems you're being sensible for once.' The
Doctor sounded rather surprised.
       'The truce will end when power is restored.'
       'Agreed,' said Railton impatiently. 'Now, I suggest we all go
over to our mining dome. We've located rich Parrinium deposits
nearby and set up a dome to refine the ore. It's slow work without
power though. Perhaps you can suggest some improvements in the
technique.'
       For a moment the Dalek leader made no reply. The Doctor
guessed it was hard for a Dalek to accept orders, or even suggestions,
from what it had been conditioned to regard as a member of an
inferior species. Then it said, 'Very well. Lead the way. Lead!'
       Trust a Dalek to make even an agreement sound like an order,
thought the Doctor. He followed Railton and the others towards the
dunes, uneasily conscious of the Daleks close behind him.

       They had left the plain and were moving through a narrow
canyon in the range of rocky hills when an arrow sped out of
nowhere and buried itself in Railton's heart. He stared down at it in
unbelieving astonishment, and fell dead to the ground.
       The Doctor yelled, 'Get under cover!' and leaped for the shelter
of a nearby boulder, waving to the others to do the same. He scanned
the surrounding terrain. He saw only the high walls of the canyon, a
scattering of boulders on the rocky hillside, the rounded shapes of the
distant dunes. No movement, no sign of life. Suddenly he realised Jill
Tarrant was kneeling beside Railton's body, making a futile attempt
to pull it under cover. 'Help me with him,' she sobbed. 'Doctor, help
me.'
       The Doctor ran to her side. 'Jill, leave him, he's dead. We can't
help him now.'
       Jill tugged at Railton's body. 'We can't just leave him here.'
        A crude, stone-headed arrow struck the ground between them.
The Doctor grabbed Jill's arm and yanked her back under cover.
        Galloway wriggled close to him and pointed. 'The arrows came
from over that way, behind those rocks.' 'Did you see anything?'
        Galloway shook his head. A second shower of arrows whizzed
towards them, thudding into the ground, and clattering against the
rocks.
        The Doctor said, 'It seems to be a fairly small group. If we
break away and scatter we might stand a chance.'
        'Just a minute, Doctor,' hissed Galloway furiously. 'I'm next in
seniority to Railton. That puts me in command.'
        The Doctor looked unbelievingly at him, astonished, not for
the first time, at the rigidity of the military mind.
        There was hysteria in Jill Tarrant's voice. 'All right,
Commander. Give an order to get us out of this!'
        Galloway glared furiously at her: He was about to make some
angry reply when Peter Hamilton said, 'If you lot have finished
arguing amongst yourselves—take a look around!'
        They looked. A line of Exxilons had appeared on the skyline
ahead of them. 'There are more over there,' said Hamilton. 'And over
there!'
        There were Exxilons to their left and to their right, still more
blocking the gully behind them. They were armed with a variety of
primitive weapons—bows, spears, clubs, stone-headed axes. Stone
age weapons, thought the Doctor, but on this planet they were the
only ones that counted.
        Galloway's hand was gripping the useless blaster at his belt.
'They're like sitting ducks. If only the guns were working.' Almost
berserk with rage, he snatched the bow from his shoulder, fitted an
arrow and fired. Clutching its chest, an Exxilon tumbled from a
nearby boulder with a shrill cry of agony.
        The Doctor ducked down, expecting a hail of arrows in reply.
Instead there was a sudden flurry of movement amongst the Exxilons
just ahead of them. Someone was being shoved to the front of the
little group. 'Look,' gasped Jill. 'They've got Commander Stewart.'
        The wounded man was being supported between two Exxilons.
He was barely conscious, his head lolling on his chest. A third
Exxilon menaced the wounded man's throat with a jagged stone
knife. The message was clear.
       Peter Hamilton said quietly. 'That settles it for me. We'll have
to surrender. Jill?'
       Her eyes fixed on the Commander, Jill nodded. 'What about
you, Doctor?'
       'I suppose so. When the only alternative to living is dying...
What about our Dalek friends?'
       All this time the little group of Daleks had taken no part in the
action. Peter turned to them and called, 'We're going to surrender.
What about you?'
       The nearest Dalek trundled menacingly towards the Exxilons,
acting from instinct rather than reason.'Daleks do not surrender.
Exterminate! Exterminate!' A frantic clicking came from its useless
weapon.
       Immediately a shower of arrows rattled against its metal
casing. There was triumph in the metallic voice. 'Primitive weaponry
ineffective against superior Dalek shielding!'
       A grinding sound came from above. A heavy boulder rolled
down the hillside, smashing into the Dalek and knocking it on to its
side. A swarm of Exxilons descended upon the disabled Dalek,
bashing at it with clubs, axes and heavy rocks, hammering it into a
shapeless lump of metal. The-tremendous battering triggered the
Dalek's self-destruct unit. Suddenly it exploded in smoke and flame,
killing the nearest Exxilons and blowing several others off their feet.
The survivors danced exultantly round the smoking pile of metal,
screeching in triumph.
       The Doctor looked at the remaining Daleks. 'You'll have to do
better than that, won't you? What do you say now?'
       The Dalek leader said tonelessly, 'We will appear to surrender.
It will enable us to observe the enemy more closely.'
       'That's a good face saving attitude. Well, let's get it over with!'
The Doctor stepped out of cover, his hands held high, and the others
followed.
       The Exxilons closed in on them.
                              6
                         The Sacrifice
       Somewhat to her own astonishment, Sarah was still alive.
When she had. been dragged to the altar, she had assumed that her
end was literally minutes away. Presumably the high priest would
produce his stone-bladed knife and that would be that.
       In fact, things had gone rather differently. She had been lashed
down upon the altar, held motionless by ropes at arms and wrists
while around her the ceremony had gone on—and on and on.
       There had been much chanting from the high priest, followed
by responses from the crowd. Other priests had appeared to join in
the ceremony. She had been sprinkled with strange fluids, menaced
with various weapons, endlessly harangued by the priests. Incense-
burners had been swung about her head; their thick, sweet-smelling
smoke drifted across her face, almost choking her. Still the endless
chanting and counter-chanting continued.
       It was a funny thing to say about your own sacrifice, thought
Sarah, but she was beginning to get rather bored with it all. To make
things worse, the incense was making her dizzy. Suddenly the
chanting rose to a crescendo and stopped. There was a moment of
utter silence. The high priest loomed over her, and Sarah thought
muzzily that surely this must be it. Curiously enough she felt no
sensation of fear, just a calm acceptance.
       But still there was no sign of the sacrificial knife. Instead the
ropes were loosened and she was lifted from the altar. Her feet
floated from under her, and without the support of the Exxilon priests
she would have fallen. They began walking her towards the back of
the cavern.
       Sarah went meekly along with them. She seemed to have no
will of her own and in some corner of her mind she realised that the
smoke of the incense must contain a narcotic drug. But it didn't
matter. All she had to do was walk, and everything would be all
right...
       The crowd drew back to form an alleyway, and Sarah walked
between the two priests straight towards the black mouth of the
tunnel.
       At this moment the Doctor and his fellow prisoners were
herded into the great cavern. It was obvious what was going on—the
whole place reeked of ceremonial sacrifice.
       The Doctor broke free from his Exxilon guards and ran the
length of the great cavern before anyone could prevent him. 'Stop!'
he shouted. 'Where are you taking her?' Grabbing the astonished high
priest, and throwing him aside, he barged his way to Sarah's side,
shoving the supporting priest away. 'Sarah, are you all right?'
       Sarah stared dazedly up at him. She wanted to explain that he
really mustn't interrupt the ceremony like this—but suddenly
blackness closed in on her, and she slumped unconscious at his feet.
       As the Doctor knelt to examine her the high priest barked a
single guttural command and the two Exxilon priests descended on
the Doctor, dragging him away.
       Angrily he threw them aside again, fighting to get back to
Sarah, but more and more Exxilons joined in the attack. They
swarmed over the Doctor like huge black ants and he went down
beneath the sheer weight of their attacking bodies. A stone club
struck him a glancing blow on the head and he fell back unconscious.

      Sarah woke up in a cage. 'First a church, now a zoo,' she
thought. It was a very large cage, formed by setting bars across an
alcove in the rock, and there were several other people in it with her.
Muzzily, Sarah studied them. There was a heavily bandaged man
lying unconscious in a corner. There were two other men, one young
and brown-haired, one black-haired and burly, talking in low voices.
On the far side of the cage, three squat metallic shapes were huddled
in a group. Finally, to Sarah's immense relief, there was the Doctor,
lying against the cavern wall not far away, with a fair-haired girl of
about her own age examining a bruise on his forehead.
      Slowly and carefully Sarah got up. She still felt weak at the
knees, but her head was clear again. She went over to the girl and
knelt beside her. 'Is the Doctor all right?'
      'I think so. He seems to be coming round.'
      Sarah rubbed her hand across her eyes. 'What happened?'
      'Don't you remember?'
      'It's all a bit hazy. They made me inhale some kind of drug.'
      'Well, as far as I can gather, they were going to sacrifice you.
Then we turned up, and the Doctor broke up the ceremony. He laid
hands on their high priest—apparently that's about the worst crime
you can commit on this planet. I'm afraid you two aren't very popular
with our hosts!'
      Sarah looked round the crowded cell. 'Who are you all? What
are you doing here?'
      The girl smiled wearily. 'That's a very long story. For a start,
my name's Jill Tarrant...'

       Peter Hamilton looked across the cage. The Doctor had
recovered consciousness and was talking quietly to the two girls. Dan
Galloway nodded towards him and said angrily, 'The man's crazy, I
tell you. He's stirred them all up against us, ruined any chance we
had of making a deal.'
       'Come on, Dan,' said Peter quietly. 'He hadn't any choice. A
couple of minutes more and that girl would probably have been
dead.'
       'So what? She's no concern of ours.'
       Hamilton said, 'We're all in this together. It could have been
me or you about to be sacrified. Would you expect everybody else to
stand by and let it happen?'
       'The point is, it wasn't one of us. We've no loyalties to those
two—they're simply not part of our mission.'
       'So you'd let them die, just like that?'
       Galloway leaned forward. 'You're forgetting something, Peter.
Our job is to get hold of the Parrinium that will save the lives of
millions. If a couple of people we don't even know have to die in the
process—well, that's just too bad.'
       The Daleks too had been conferring, and now their leader
glided across to the two men. 'We have decided the action we shall
take. We will offer the Exxilons our knowledge and technology in
return for their assistance. You would do well to do the same.'
       Galloway grunted. 'Aye, well, anything's worth a try. Until we
track down the cause of that power block, we'll none of us get off this
planet.'
       Hamilton nodded towards the Doctor and Sarah. 'What about
them? Do you think the Exxilons will agree to let them go? I mean,
we'll have to make that part of the deal...'
       The eye-stalk of the Dalek leader swung round in his direction.
'The Doctor is an enemy of the Daleks. The girl is of no concern to
us.'
       Galloway said calmly. 'It seems we're in agreement about some
things after all...'
       The Doctor had made his usual amazingly rapid recovery, and
was cheerfully lecturing the two girls on the nature of primitive
societies. 'The more primitive the society, the more complex the
taboos. The sacrifice has to be made in exactly the right way, all the
rituals observed, step by step. When I arrived and interrupted things,
they had no alternative but to stop the ceremony.'
       'So what do you think will happen now?' asked Sarah.
       'I'm afraid that what they had planned for you has merely been
postponed. And there'll probably be two of us starring in the next
performance.'
       Sarah tried to smile. 'Well, it's always nice to have company.
Jill, what's the matter ?'
       Jill was staring across the cage. 'Galloway seems to be getting
very thick with the Daleks. I don't know what he's up to, but I don't
like the look of it.'
       Galloway and the Dalek leader had gone to the bars of the cage
and seemed to be trying to communicate with an Exxilon priest
outside.
       The Doctor said quietly. 'I have a feeling it might be better if
you didn't involve yourself with us, Miss Tarrant. We seem to be the
flies in a very nasty jar of ointment.'
       After much guttural muttering from the Exxilons, a door in the
bars had been opened, and Galloway and the Dalek leader were
allowed to pass through. Jill gave the Doctor a worried look. 'I
imagine they're trying to negotiate some kind of deal—a way for all
of us to get out of here.'
      'All of us?' The Doctor shook his head. 'That's wishful
thinking, my dear. The Daleks certainly won't do anything to help
me. And I don't expect too much from your friend Galloway either.'

       In the small, compact laboratory of the Dalek space ship an
experiment was in progress. There had been a significant
modification in the appearance of the three Daleks left inside the
ship. Instead of the now-useless blasters, another kind of weapon had
been fitted to the squat metallic bodies. It consisted of a simple gun-
barrel with an ammunition magazine clipped underneath.
       On a bench at the other end of the laboratory was a target—a
miniature TARDIS. One of the Daleks moved to the firing position.
There was a staccato chattering sound and smoke drifted from its gun
muzzle. The model TARDIS disintegrated in a shower of plastic
fragments.
       The Dalek glided to the bench. 'Target model completely
destroyed. Substitute weaponry now functioning satisfactorily.'
       'We will proceed immediately with the second stage of our
plan.'
       The three Daleks glided from the laboratory, and along the
short metal corridor that led to the exit ramp. Soon they were moving
along the path followed by the prisoners some time earlier.
       Two Exxilons appeared on the rocks above them, both armed
with bows. They fired and the stone-headed arrows bounced
harmlessly from the Daleks' metal casing. Immediately the leading
Dalek swivelled round, aiming its gun. There was a rattle of
machine-gun fire and the Eilons were blasted from the rocks by the
impact of the heavy bullets. They crashed down on to the stony
ground behind the path, lying like two bundles of black rags.
       Impassively, the leading Dalek said, 'Modified weapons
moderately efficient when tested in action.'
       The Daleks glided along the path. Behind them the blood of
the Exxilons soaked into the rocky ground.

      The gate in the bars opened. Galloway and the Dalek leader
entered, the Exxilon high priest behind them. More Exxilon priests
followed them into the cell. The high priest pointed to the Doctor and
Sarah. The priests caught hold of them and began puffing them from
the cell. Jill Tarrant cried, 'No!' and tried to stop them. A savage
shove from one of the Exxilons sent her reeling away.
      Hamilton turned to Galloway as the Doctor and Sarah were
dragged out. 'Dan, we've got to do something.'
      Galloway shook his head. 'Don't interfere. We've got to think
of ourselves now, and what we came here to do.'
      Hamilton grabbed him by the arm. 'What happened out there,
Dan? What did you agree to?'
      Galloway pulled away. 'We managed to communicate with the
Exxilons. They speak a kind of pigeon galactic, though it's so
debased you can hardly follow them. We made a deal—at least, the
Dalek did. The Exxilons seem impressed by that armour of theirs.'
      'A deal that includes the sacrifice of the Doctor and Sarah, I
suppose? And you agreed?'
      Galloway turned away. 'There was nothing else I could do.'
      The Dalek leader moved across to them. 'Exxilons refuse to
discuss final terms until interrupted sacrifices have been completed.
We will follow and observe.'
      The Daleks glided from the cell, and Exxilon priests herded Jill
and Hamilton after them. Galloway was about to follow when he
heard a feeble voice calling his name. 'Galloway...'
      He turned and saw Commander Stewart struggling to sit up.
Galloway went to kneel beside him. The Commander's face was
grey, and his breath came in rattling gasps. It was clear that rough
handling on top of his other wounds had been too much for his
weakened constitution. Commander Stewart was dying. Hoarsely he
whispered, 'I heard everything. Galloway. You are not fit to
command this expedition.'
      Galloway met the dying man's eyes without flinching. 'I'm only
doing what's necessary, sir. I'm going to get that Parrinium whatever
the cost.'
      'You're a glory hunter, Galloway,' said the feeble voice. 'You
always were. I never trusted you. Now I'm giving my last order. I'm
appointing Hamilton over you.'
       The voice was almost inaudible. Galloway thrust his lips close
to the Commander's ear. 'Sir, you can't do that. He's just not tough
enough.'
       'It's done,' whispered Stewart triumphantly. 'Peter Hamilton
will take command. That is an order... an order...' Stewart's head fell
back. A spasm of coughing shook the wounded body, and then he lay
still.
       Dan Galloway stared down at his Commander's body. They
had never got on—not that Galloway got on with anyone very much.
They had clashed over Galloway's ruthless methods on previous
expeditions, and Galloway suspected that the Commander had
blocked his overdue promotion.
       Dan Galloway was essentially a simple man. He had lost all
his family in one of the early Dalek wars, grown up as a ragged
poverty-stricken refugee, joined the Marine Space Corps at the first
opportunity, and clawed his way up from the ranks. Morals and
ideals were the kind of luxuries he had never been able to afford. He
had only one standard of behaviour—whatever helped Dan Galloway
to succeed was justified. Even if it meant co-operation with the
Daleks...
       He wondered if Commander Stewart had been right about his
motives. The man who brought this expedition to a successful
conclusion would be a hero on a hundred planets, rich and famous
for the rest of his life.
       Why shouldn't he be that man? In any case motives were
unimportant. Results were what counted. This expedition had to
succeed. But not with Peter Hamilton in command. He was too
soft—like Railton and Stewart before him.
       The sound of chanting came from the cavern outside. The
sacrifice was under way. Once the girl and the Doctor were dead, he
would find some way of outwitting both Daleks and Exxilons, and
getting the Parrinium away from the planet.
       Galloway pulled the space-blanket over the dead man's face.
'I'm sorry, Commander,' he said quietly. 'I didn't quite catch what you
said.'
       He turned and went out of the cage.
                           7
                Escape to the Unknown
       Sarah felt trapped in a recurring nightmare. Once again she
stood before the altar, surrounded by black-robed figures. Once again
the air was filled with low, chanting voices and the sweet sickly reek
of the narcotic incense. The only difference, though it was a
considerable one, was the fact that now the Doctor was at her side.
       They had reached the point at which the Doctor had
interrupted the earlier ceremony. Sarah glanced up at him and gave a
slight jerk of her head. Should they make a run for it? The Doctor
shook his head, and Sarah. saw his lips form the words, 'Not yet.' No
doubt the Doctor had some brilliant plan...
       In fact the Doctor had no plan at all, though he was desperately
trying to think of one. His only thought was that it would be better to
let the ceremony get well under way before making any move. He
was confident that he could resist the drugged incense smoke, and
there was a chance that the Exxilons, half hypnotised by their own
ritual, might react too slowly to prevent their getaway. What he
desperately needed now was a diversion.
       Jill Tarrant and Peter Hamilton watched in unbelieving horror.
Hamilton was in an agony of indecision. He felt he couldn't stand by
and see two people sacrificed—yet there was nothing he could do to
help. He glanced at Dan Galloway who stood watching the
ceremony, his heavy features impassive. Behind him were the three
Daleks.
       In the corner of his eye Hamilton saw movement at the cave
mouth, and turned to look behind him. To his astonishment three
more Daleks were standing there. There was something different
about them, about their weapons... Some instinct made him yell,
'Look out!' and shove Jill and Galloway to one side.
       The cavern echoed with the roar of the Dalek machine-guns.
The three Daleks fired ruthlessly into the packed crowd and all
around Exxilons were smashed to the ground by the impact of the
heavy bullets. They milled round frantically in a useless attempt to
escape, and the Daleks mowed them down in rows. The air was filled
with the harsh chatter of the guns and the screams of the dying.
       Even though the Doctor and Sarah were some way from the re-
armed Daleks, bullets were whistling around them. The Exxilon
priest at Sarah's side staggered and fell, blood spreading over the
front of his ceremonial robes. The Doctor grabbed Sarah's hand and
dragged her behind the altar. He looked round for a way of escape.
There was only one.
       Holding Sarah by the hand he pulled her across the cavern,
past the bodies of dead and wounded Exxilons, and into the mouth of
the tunnel.
       They ran on into the darkness until the sounds of slaughter
faded away behind them. Sarah stumbled, and fell, feeling suddenly
exhausted. She lay gasping for a moment, and the Doctor helped her
to sit up. 'Just rest for a moment. The Daleks don't seem to be
following us, and the Exxilons have got other things to worry about.'
       'Those Dalek things,' gasped Sarah. 'Where did they come
from? They're not locals, are they?'
       'No, indeed. The Daleks originated on the planet Skaro.
They're probably the most technically advanced and utterly ruthless
life-form in the galaxy—a fact you've just seen demonstrated. The
Daleks are old enemies of mine.'
       'If they're robots, why isn't their power affected? How come
they can still move?'
       'Probably because they're not really robots at all. Inside each of
those metal shells is a living, bubbling lump of hate!' The Doctor
helped Sarah to her feet. 'Come on, we'd better be on our way.'
       They moved off down the tunnel.

       Those Exxilons who were still left alive clustered together in a
terrified group, covered by two of the newly armed Daleks. The other
Dalek reported to the leader. 'All resistance has ceased.'
       'I will speak to the high priest. Bring him to me.' As the Dalek
moved away, Galloway came forward. 'What are you going to talk to
him about?'
       'We still require the co-operation of the Exxilons. Now they
will co-operate on our terms.'
       'What will you do if they don't agree?'
       'We shall select groups of hostages for extermination until they
obey.'
       Galloway nodded, quite unmoved. 'That should bring them
round to our way of thinking. The first thing to do is make them
supply working parties to mine the Parrinium. Then we must start
tackling that power block—'
       'Silence. Your advice is not required.'
       'Now wait a minute,' began Galloway angrily. 'We agreed to
work together...'
       'The Daleks are in command. You will obey.'
       Galloway took an angry step forward and one of the Daleks
guarding the Exxilons swung its machine-gun to cover him. He
bowed his head. 'All right, all right. Whatever you say...'

       The tunnel wound on and on and Sarah began to wonder if it
went clear to the centre of the planet. Luckily they weren't in
complete darkness. Here and there glowing crystals set into the rocky
walls gave a kind of subdued glow. As they trudged along Sarah
looked up at the Doctor, who seemed lost in thought.
       'Doctor?'
       'What is it?'
       'You remember all that mumbo jumbo back there—it was a
sacrificial ceremony of some hind, wasn't it?'
       'That seemed to be the general idea.'
       'Well, as far as I can remember, the high point of the ceremony
was going to be when I was sent off down this tunnel.'
       'That's right.'
       'Well, how were they sacrificing me by just dumping me down
here?'
       'Ah! I was afraid you'd think of that sooner or later.'
       'Well?'
       'Well, what?' said the Doctor evasively.
       'You do have an idea—about what they were up to?'
        'Yes, but it isn't one of my favourites. In fact I don't much care
for it at all.'
        'Come on, Doctor. You might as well share it.'
        'If you insist. I think the Exxilons expected the sacrifice to be
completed for them—by something that lives in the tunnel.'
        'Sort of like throwing us to the sacred crocodiles?'
        'That's right. I could be wrong of course...'
        An ear-splitting howl echoed down the tunnel from somewhere
ahead of them.
        Sarah shivered. 'Doctor—next time you get an idea—just keep
it to yourself, will you?'

       Ignored and apparently forgotten, Jill Tarrant and Peter
Hamilton waited in a quiet corner of the cavern, wondering what was
going on. Leaving the three armed Daleks in charge, the three
rescued Daleks had left, presumably to go back to their ship. Shortly
afterwards they had returned, and now they too were fitted with
machine-guns.
       The Dalek leader was dictating his terms to the high priest.
Dan Galloway hovered on the fringe of the group, not daring to
speak, but desperate to keep some vestige of his status as a Dalek
ally.
       The Daleks and Exxilons moved away, and Galloway came
over to rejoin the others.
       Jill looked at him. 'Well? What are your new friends up to
now?'
       'Oh, it's all agreed. We've finalised a deal with the Exxilons.'
       Hamilton laughed scornfully. 'We?'
       Galloway's face darkened with anger. 'The Exxilons will
provide a work force to help mine the Parrinium. We'll be in charge
of that, together with some of the Daleks.'
       'What about the rest of them?'
       'They're sending a patrol to the City to investigate the cause of
the power block.'
       'And what are the Exxilons getting out of this deal?'
       'Oh, nothing much.'
       'Tell us,' insisted Jill.
        'Well, it appears the Exxilons have some kind of enemy—a
sort of breakaway group of their own people. We've agreed to help
the Exxilons wipe them out.'
        'You've agreed to what?'
        'In return the Exxilons guarantee us all the Parrinium we need.
We'll save the lives of millions...'
        'Arid how many will you murder to do it?' asked Jill furiously.
'You can't accept terms like that!'
        'They're only Exxilons, primitives,' said Galloway calmly.
'They don't count.' He hesitated. 'There's one more thing...'
        'All right,' said Hamilton grimly. 'Tell us the rest of it. What
else have you agreed?'
        Galloway looked shamefaced. 'This is the bit you won't like.
That fellow they call the Doctor... The Exxilons want him punished,
and so do the Daleks. He's to be found and brought back—dead or
alive.'
        Hamilton said wearily, 'You're totally ruthless, aren't you,
Galloway? So now the Daleks are hunting the Doctor too?'
        Galloway nodded. 'A couple of them have gone down the
tunnel after him—just in case whatever lives down there doesn't get
him first.'

      The Doctor and Sarah moved cautiously onwards. The Doctor
noticed an increasing number of fissures appearing the rock walls,
but they all seemed too narrow to offer any chance of escape.
Another of the mysterious howls echoed down the tunnel. Sarah
looked uneasily at the Doctor. 'That sounded awfully close.'
      'Oh, just some sort of subterranean wind effect, I imagine.'
      'Who are you trying to kid?'
      'Myself, chiefly!' admitted the Doctor.
      There was another roar, louder this time.

     Further back down the tunnel, the pursuing Daleks heard the
sound. They paused for a moment, then glided swiftly onwards.

     The Doctor and Sarah came to another, deeper fissure in the
rock wall on their left. The Doctor glanced cautiously at it as they
went past. It was impossible to tell how deep it was, but the Doctor
thought it was probably too narrow to conceal any life form. They
hurried on their way.
      The Doctor was wrong. As soon as he had moved past, a hand
and a long thin arm appeared out of the crack. The hand was totally
white, like that of some creature that never sees the light. The rest of
the creature's body was grey and it oozed out of the crack like
toothpaste from a tube. It padded softly down the tunnel after the
Doctor and Sarah.

         The tunnel began to widen, and rounding a bend they suddenly
found themselves at a junction point. Here the tunnel suddenly
divided itself in three. They could carry on straight ahead, they could
follow the tunnel on the left, or they could turn down the equally
large tunnel on the right.
         It was like some old fable, thought Sarah. Three choices to
make. Suppose only one of the tunnels led to safety, and the other
two meant death? How were they going to choose? With three
choices you couldn't even spin a coin.
         The weird howling filled the air again. By some freak of the
tunnel's acoustics it seemed to come from all around them. It was
impossible to tell from which of the three tunnels it was coming.
         'I can hear your wind effect gnashing its teeth, Doctor,' said
Sarah nervously.
         'Pure imagination—I hope!' The Doctor listened keenly as the
uncanny sound came again. 'There's something funny about that
noise. It sounds mechanical, or electronic. Not like an animal sound
at all.'
         'That's a great consolation. Well, which way do we go?'
         The Doctor indicated the left hand tunnel. 'I think I'll make a
little reconnaissance down this one.'
         'Right!' Sarah moved forward.
         'Alone, Sarah.'
         'Alone?'
         'I don't want anything coming down that tunnel behind me to
cut off my retreat. With you on watch here, you can give me a
warning.'
       'And who's going to warn me?' asked Sarah indignantly.
       The Doctor grinned. 'Oh, you're in a good safe position. After
all, you've got three different ways to run!' He paused at the left-hand
opening. 'I'll try it for about half a mile. If things look promising, I'll
come back to fetch you.'
       'And if they don't?'
       'I'll come back even quicker, and we'll try another tunnel.' With
a nod of farewell, the Doctor disappeared, and Sarah was left alone.
       Or was she? She seemed to hear the faintest of sounds—a soft,
almost inaudible padding. Sarah whirled round and listened. For a
moment there was only silence, then she heard the sound again.
Something was creeping along the main tunnel towards her.
       She peered into the semi-darkness, but there was nothing to be
seen. 'Anybody there?' she called. There was no reply.
       Suddenly the weird howling sound rang out again. Caught
between two terrors, Sarah turned. Had the Doctor chosen the wrong
tunnel and run straight into the monster? The howl died away. The
silence returned and Sarah heard that faint padding sound again. She
looked over her shoulder—and jumped with horror. A ghostly grey
figure was standing in the tunnel behind her.

      The Doctor had just reached a sharp turning in the tunnel,
when the howl came again, louder this time. Whatever was making it
was very close. Clearly he'd chosen the wrong tunnel after all. The
Doctor knew he ought to turn back for Sarah, but curiosity drove him
on. At least he could get a look at the thing before he retreated. He
rounded the bend—and found himself facing an enormous silvery
snake. It was rearing up so that its blunt head hung in mid-air high
above him. Its one eye glowing a fiery red, the giant creature loomed
over him. The great, flat head weaved to and fro as if searching for
prey.
                                8
                              Bellal
       The Doctor hacked slowly away.
       The silver snake reared higher, weaving its head to and fro as
if searching for him. It gave a weird electronic howl. The blunt head
stabbed suddenly towards him, and now the Doctor saw that it wasn't
a living creature at all. It was made of flexible metallic tubing, and
the red eye was a monitor lens. The length of the thing was
enormous. It stretched back and back, until it disappeared into the
darkness of the tunnel.
       Not a snake then, decided the Doctor, but part of a mechanised
root system—a kind of extendable probe, presumably sent out by the
City. In that case why the howl? To scare off intruders? Or perhaps
the noise acted as a kind of sonar, detecting the presence of intruders
by bouncing off sound waves... The Doctor received sudden,
unwelcome confirmation of his theory. The probe howled again,
then, as if the sound had given it a fix, it slithered suddenly towards
him.
       The Doctor backed away, and tripped over a loose chunk of
rock. The fall saved his life. The probe lunged with the speed of a
striking cobra, and a bolt of energy sizzled over the Doctor's head,
blasting a chunk out of the tunnel wall. The Doctor rolled over,
sprang to his feet, and ran. The probe undulated after him, making a
hungry, moaning sound.
       The Doctor shot back round the bend, spotted another rock-
fissure on his right and squeezed himself into it. He wriggled back
and back into the darkness until the fissure became too narrow for
him to go further. He saw the gleaming metal probe shoot past the
fissure. It howled again, then stopped and hovered, realising that
somehow it had lost its prey. Red eye glowing in the darkness, the
blunt head hovered in mid-air, hunting for the Doctor...
       Sarah gazed at the ghastly apparition in horror. It took a pace
forward, and Sarah backed hurriedly away. 'Keep back! Keep away
from me...'
       The apparition spoke. 'Please... do not be afraid.' Its voice was
low and gentle, almost child-like.
       As she began to recover from the shock of its sudden
appearance, Sarah realised the creature wasn't so very terrifying after
all. To begin with it was very small, not much bigger than a child. It
wore a tattered greenish garment that covered arms and legs and
body so closely that at first sight it looked like the creature's skin.
The head was small and round, completely hairless, with small ears
and enormous staring eyes. The face was a dull, fish-belly white, and
seemed to be faintly luminous. With a sudden lizard-like movement,
the creature scuttled closer. 'I mean you no harm. I will help you if I
can.'
       'Who are you?' whispered Sarah.
       'I am called Bellal. I am an Exxilon, a native of this planet. But
my people do not share the belief's of those others, the ones who
tried to sacrifice you. They consider us their enemies.'
       Sarah thought it was bad enough being on this planet, without
having to listen to a lecture on its politics. But there was something
curiously appealing about the white-faced little creature, and it
seemed anxious to enlighten her. 'And are you?' she asked. 'Are you
their enemies?'
       Rellal shook his head. 'We seek only to save the entire Exxilon
race from destruction. But we do not share their beliefs, or worship
the City as they do, and for that we are persecuted and driven to live
in secret, deep beneath the planet. We are the Subterranean Exxilons.'
       'How many of you are there?'
       'We are very few—few, against so many enemies. Please, I
will answer all your questions, but it is too dangerous here. Let me
take you to a place of safety.'
       'I'm sorry, but I can't leave here. I must wait for—'
       'You have a companion? Which way did he go?'
       Sarah pointed to the left hand tunnel. 'Down there.'
       Bellal gave a little hiss of alarm. 'That way lies death.'
        'Then we must find the Doctor and warn him. Please, come
with me.'
        Bellal said reluctantly. 'It may already be too late. But I will do
what I can.'
        Another little creature scuttled out of the darkness, so like
Bellal as to be almost identical. 'The machine-creatures from the
space ship... Two of them... they are very close.'
        'Machine creatures ?' said Sarah. 'You mean Daleks?'
        Bellal grasped Sarah's arm and pulled her into a nearby fissure.
He and his companion crowded in behind her, shielding her with
their bodies. Sarah realised that their greyish garments blended
perfectly with the walls of the tunnel, forming a perfect camouflage.
        Two Daleks glided into view. They drew to a halt at the sight
of the three entrances facing them. They hovered for a moment, eye-
sticks swivelling uneasily to and fro. Then the one in the lead said,
'We will search independently. Fugitives are to be exterminated on
sight.'
        'I obey.' The harsh metallic voices echoed through the tunnels.
The Daleks separated and moved off, one to the left and one to the
right.
        As soon as they were out of sight Sarah wriggled out of her
hiding-place. 'One of those Daleks will be coming up behind the
Doctor. We must go and warn him.'
        Bellal gripped her arm, holding her back. 'It will be of no use.
You must stay silent, or we will all be killed. You must understand...
It is beyond anyone's power to help your companion now.'

       The Doctor was reaching a similar conclusion. In his desperate
dash for safety he had run straight into a trap. He couldn't go on
because the crack became too narrow. He couldn't go back because
the probe was still hovering outside the fissure, trying to work out
what had happened to its prey. The Doctor had hoped that it would
eventually give up and go away, but he had underestimated its
persistence.
       It was only a servo-mechanism of limited intelligence, he
thought. But it was obviously programmed to seek out and destroy
intruders, and not to give up until it had found them. It wouldn't take
even the dimmest mechanical mind much longer to work out that
there was only one place the Doctor could be. And once it had him
located, it need only blast a few energy-bolts down the fissure and
that would be that. It was a wonder it hadn't found him already.
Perhaps the narrowness of the rock-fissure was confusing its sonar.
       Suddenly the probe appeared, directly outside the fissure. The
red eye-lens glowed, as it moved cautiously towards the crack.
Surely it would spot him any moment now...
       Help came at last, not from the Doctor's friends, but from his
greatest enemies. A Dalek appeared down the tunnel, and the probe
withdrew from the crack, and whipped round to face this new threat.
       From his hiding place inside the crack the Doctor had a
grandstand view of the confrontation. The Dalek stopped short as the
snake-like metal form of the probe hovered in the air above it. The
probe hovered over the Dalek, its red eye seeming to blink in
astonishment. For a moment the two metal monsters studied each
other.
       Then the Dalek made its predictable response to the unknown
danger. With a harsh cry of 'Exterminate!' it opened fire on the probe.
At exactly the same moment the probe made the same decision, and
lunged forward, blasting the Dalek with an energy-bolt.
       There was an explosive crackle of fierce blue sparks and the
Dalek spun round, cannoning into the rock wall, like a demented
dodgem-car. At the same time some of the Dalek's bullets struck the
probe; it lashed about the tunnel in panic-stricken fury.
       The Dalek swivelled round, trying to bring its machine-gun to
bear. 'I am under attack,' it screeched. 'Assist ! Assist ! Assist!'
       Before the Dalek could take aim the probe lunged forward
again, blasting the Dalek with another energy-bolt. The Dalek spun
round, smashing into the rock wall. 'Oh good shot, sir!' called the
Doctor delightedly. 'A hit, a palpable hit!' He moved to the end of the
fissure to get a better view.
       With an angry howl the probe reared to its full height. Then it
lunged forward again and again, blasting the stricken Dalek with a
rain of energy-bolts. The Dalek blew up.
       Back at the junction point, Sarah was listening to the sounds of
battle. They rose to a crescendo, there was the sound of a distant
explosion—then silence.
       Shaking off Bellal's restraining hand, Sarah headed
determinedly for the left-hand tunnel. Baal darted in front of her,
barring her way. 'No!' he hissed.
       'I must find out what's happening to the Doctor...'
       'The other Dalek will come back this way,' said Bellal
desperately. 'We must leave.'
       'The Doctor may be hurt. I've got to find him.'
       'As soon as it is safe, I will send some of our people to look for
him,' promised Bellal. 'Now we must leave here...' He broke off.
'No... it is too late. There is something coming... Quick!' whispered
Bellal. He dragged Sarah back to the fissure where they'd hidden
before, and his companion ran to join them.
       Tensely Sarah watched the tunnel entrance. The sound of
movement came nearer, a shadow loomed up—and the muzzle of a
Dalek machine-gun appeared...
       Sarah shrank back—and the Doctor moved warily into view,
holding the machine-gun before him.
       With a sob of relief, she ran forwards, throwing herself into his
arms. 'Doctor, you're safe. What happened? How did you get away
from the Dalek? What did you see down there?'
       The Doctor grinned. 'Steady on, Sarah, one thing at a time. I
had a confrontation with a rather nasty root—a kind of probe.'
       'A root?'
       'That's right. I think it was part of the City's defences.' The
Doctor smiled. 'It wasn't very fond of me, but it positively hated the
Dalek!'
       'So what happened?'
       'Probe City—one, Dalek United—nil,' said the Doctor happily.
'It blew the Dalek to bits.' He held up the machine-gun. 'I managed to
salvage this from the wreckage—it was about the only bit left
undamaged.' He tossed it aside.
       Bellal and his companion came forward from the fissure, and
the Doctor swung round. 'It's all right, Doctor, they're friends,' said
Sarah. She gave the Doctor a brief account of her meeting with Bellal
and his companion. 'They say they're part of a group who oppose the
other Exxilons.'
       'How do you do, gentlemen,' said the Doctor politely. 'We
could certainly do with some allies.'
       The little Exxilon gave a kind of bow. 'We shall try to help
you, Doctor. My companion here is called Gotal—' Bellal broke off.
He ran to the right-hand tunnel, and stood listening. 'I think I hear
movement. The other Dalek must be coming.'
       Gotal was hovering impatiently by the entrance to the central
tunnel. 'This way. Come quickly!'
       The Doctor and Sarah ran into the tunnel, and Bellal followed.
Soon all four had disappeared into the darkness.
       A few minutes later the second Dalek came back down the
right-hand tunnel. It turned towards the left-hand entrance then
paused, seeming to sense some movement. It hovered for a
moment—then set off after the Doctor and his companions.
                              9
                         The Pursuit
       The little party hurried down the central tunnel, Gotal leading
the way, followed by the Doctor and Sarah. Bellal himself brought
up the rear, pausing from time to time to listen. The Doctor could
hear nothing, but he imagined long residence underground had made
Bellal's hearing particularly acute. Bellal hurried forward, urging
them on. 'Move more quickly. The Dalek is coming this way, and it
is gaining on us.'
       They ran on down the tunnel at a terrible pace, until suddenly
Gotal stopped. The way ahead was blocked by a fall of rock. 'It's a
dead end,' said Sarah. 'We're trapped.'
       Bellal was scanning the pile of rubble with an expert eye. 'Not
quite. See! There at the top' He pointed, and they saw a little gap at
the top of the pile of rubble.
       The Doctor looked at the narrow space. 'Through there? I'll
never make it!'
       'It is the only way,' said Gotal. He began scrambling up the
rock pile, with the others following.
       Gotal slipped through the little gap with ease. He and his
people were used to wriggling through cramped spaces underground.
Even Sarah got through without much difficulty.
       It was the Doctor who found himself in trouble.
       Although he was thin, he was tall and broad shouldered as
well, and he soon began to feel that squeezing himself through the
narrow gap was next to impossible. With a desperate heave he
wriggled halfway through the gap—and then stuck.
       'Hurry, Doctor,' urged Bellal. 'The Dalek is very close now.'
       The Doctor stretched an arm out in front of him. 'Sarah, give
me a pull from your side will you?'
       Sarah grasped the Doctor's wrist and pulled with all her might.
Bellal put his shoulder against the Doctor and shoved with surprising
strength. They all heaved—and the Doctor shot through the narrow
space like a cork coming out of a bottle, just as the Dalek appeared
behind them.
       Baffled by the rock-pile, the Dalek halted—Daleks cannot
climb. With an angry cry of 'Exterminate! Exterminate!' it sent a
fusillade of bullets after the disappearing Bellal.
       'Down!' yelled the Doctor. They all threw themselves down as
Dalek bullets whistled over their heads. They howled and ricochetted
down round the tunnel, bringing a shower of rock-chips down on
their heads. The Doctor and his companions lay face clown, like a
patrol caught in no-man's-land. The roar of the firing ended at last,
and there was silence. Either the Dalek had run out of ammunition,
or it had become discouraged and gone away. Cautiously the Doctor
raised his head, 'I think it's gone now. Everyone all right?'
       He got to his feet, and the others did the same, dusting
themselves down. 'We can rest for a while,' whispered Bellal. 'We are
safe now—for a time.'
       The Doctor stretched. 'Maybe so—but we can't just stay hiding
underground. We've got to get back power for the TARDIS, for one
thing—and for another, we must do what we can to help the mission
from Earth.'
       Sarah was all in favour of getting away, but she didn't much
fancy risking her life for people who'd abandoned them. 'They'll be
all right, won't they? They seem to be pretty pally with the Daleks.'
       The Doctor shook his head. 'There may be an alliance of some
kind for the moment. But take it from me—the moment they cease to
be useful, the Daleks will wipe them out without a qualm.' The
Doctor shook his head worriedly. 'I only wish I knew what was going
on up there.'
       'One of my people is watching, Doctor,' said Bellal. 'He will
report to me soon. Come, I will take you to our base.'

      The Subterranean Exxilon was called Jebal, and he lay
wrapped in his cloak at the top of a dune that overlooked the mining
area. The coarse-woven garment was exactly the same colour as the
sand, and Jebal's tiny form was almost invisible. Like most of his
people Jebal hated being out in the open, especially during daylight.
The burning sun scorched his delicate white skin, and its glare
dazzled his sensitive eyes, which were adapted to the permanent
semi-darkness of the caves. Shading them with his hand he peered
over the edge of the dune, trying to work out what was going on
below.
      A little group of Exxilons was chipping at the rocky outcrop
with simple store tools. Not Jebal's people, but the savage surface
Exxilons. Standing over them were two aliens. One was human from
the Earth expedition, the other one of the machine-creatures, the
Daleks. They were engaged in angry discussion.

       The Dalek scanned the working party with its eye-stick, then
swivelled back towards Galloway. 'The Exxilons are working too
slowly.'
       'Aye, and I'm not surprised. With the kind of primitive
equipment they use...' The use of any kind of modern equipment was
apparently against the Exxilon religion. The power drills were
useless anyway because of the energy-blockage, but the Exxilons
refused even to use the picks and shovels the Earth expedition could
supply. They were chipping at the Parrinium-bearing rock with a
variety of stone-age tools, and not surprisingly the work went with
infuriating slowness.
       The Dalek knew all this, but it was concerned only with
results. 'The workers must work more quickly, and the work force
must be increased. You will arrange it.'
       'You arrange it,' growled Galloway. 'That high priest isn't
exactly co-operative, for all your threats. We were lucky to get this
many workers.'
       Faced with opposition, the Dalek simply repeated its
command. 'More workers! More! Exxilons will obey our commands.'
       'And if they don't?'
       'They will be exterminated. Go and tell them.'
       Galloway turned away muttering, 'I'm not running errands for
you. We made an agreement. We're supposed to be allies.'
       'It was expedient at the time. Now it is no longer necessary.
You will live only as long as you serve the Daleks. You will obey!'
       Galloway had no particular objection to bullying and
threatening the Exxilons, particularly if it would get the work done
quicker. But to act as an errand-boy for the Daleks offended his
dignity. 'I won't do it, I tell you. Go yourself.'
       The Dalek's machine-gun swung round to cover him. 'Obey the
Daleks,' it grated. 'Obey! Obey!'
       Galloway glared furiously at the metal shape before him. But
he knew he was beaten. The Dalek would kill him without a second's
hesitation if it decided he was no longer useful. 'All right, all right,'
he muttered. He turned and headed in the direction of the great
cavern.

       In a little cave deep below the surface of the planet, the Doctor
and Sarah were sharing a meal with Bellal and some of his people. It
wasn't much of a meal—brackish water in a stone jug, some coarse
black bread, and a few wizened fruits, but it was better than nothing,
and the Doctor and Sarah ate hungrily. The little group of
Subterraneans devoured the food with relish, and Sarah guessed that
even this simple food was in short supply.
       The cave had been turned into a simple communal dining and
living area, with beds in niches around the walls, and roughly shaped
stone chairs and tables. It was clear that for these Exxilons as for
those on the surface, life was hard and primitive, a perpetual struggle
for survival. Sarah finished the last of her fruit, and turned to Bellal.
'As far as I can gather, this City seems to be the cause of all the
trouble. Where did it come from? Who built the wretched thing?'
       Bellal said sadly, 'You do not know? But of course, how could
you realise? We built the City ourselves, we Exxilons.'
       Sarah looked round the cave, which bore all the signs of a
culture not much above the stone age. She thought of the savage
Exxilons of the surface, with their bows and arrows and ritual
sacrifice. And she thought of the City, gleaming remote and
beautiful, towering high above the stony desert. 'I'm sorry, I don't
understand. How could you have...' her voice tailed away in
embarrassment.
       Bellal was well aware what she was thinking. 'The Exxilons
were not always savages.' His voice changed, becoming a sort of
ritual chant as he recited the tragic history of his people. 'Exxilon had
grown old before life had ever begun on Earth. Our ancestors solved
the great mysteries of science. They built craft that travelled through
space. They were the supreme beings of the galaxy.'
        The Doctor was listening in fascination. 'What ended their
power?' he asked gently. 'Was it war?' The Doctor knew of all too
many planets where great scientific achievement had ended in
mindless self-destruction.
        Bellal shook his head. 'No. Yet it is true that our ancestors
created their own destruction. They built the City.' Bellal paused,
overcome by emotion. His voice steadied and he went on, 'They
dreamed of crowning their civilisation with one supreme
achievement. Using all their knowledge, all their energies, they
planned to build the ultimate City, a City that would be greater than
any in the cosmos—a City that would outlast Time itself.'
        Sarah said, 'Well, it looks as if they succeeded. When I saw the
place it looked as if it had been built only yesterday.'
        Bellal went on, 'They used their scientific brilliance to make
the City into a living being, an entity that could protect itself; repair
itself, absorb the energy it needed directly from the air of the planet
and turn it to any use. They even gave it a brain.'
        'I see,' said the Doctor softly. 'So the City became a single
living thing—greater and more powerful than the many who built it?'
        Bellal nodded. 'By the time the City was completed, it realised
that only one thing flawed its perfection—the Exxilons, the inferior
beings who had created it. Our ancestors realised too late that they
had created a monster. They tried to destroy the City—and it used the
weapons they had given it to destroy them. It drove out the survivors,
and barred its gates forever. Now we, and those others you met on
the surface are all that remain. We have become savages.'
        'You're not a savage, Bellal,' said Sarah. 'Though I can't say as
much for the others. Why are you so different from them?'
        'When the City expelled them, most of the Exxilon people
turned against science and progress completely. Any culture, any
invention, progress of any kind became completely forbidden. They
rejected the City and all it stood for. They deliberately turned
themselves into savages. But although they hate the City, they fear it
too. Over the long years it became their god—a cruel and savage
god. They worship it, and they make sacrifices to it.'
        'Yes, I know,' said Sarah. 'We almost qualified for that
ourselves.'
        The Doctor said, 'But you Subterraneans don't worship the
City?'
        'We hate and fear it, but we do not worship it. The City absorbs
all life, all energy from our planet, turning it into a desert. Constantly
it rebuilds and improves itself, while outside its walls we, the
Exxilons, starve and die. Every year the food grows less, and our
numbers grow fewer. Our aim is to destroy the City. Unless we
succeed, our race will soon vanish from this planet. Only the City
will remain.'
                             10
                      The City Attacks
       Dan Galloway smashed a football-sized chunk of rock from
the big boulder with a swing of his pick-axe and passed it over to Jill
Tarrant who began chipping it into smaller chunks with her hammer,
and sorting out the pieces showing the silvery gleam of the Parrinium
ore. For some reason the Parrinium vein ran through the rocks in a
kind of inner stripe, so that a good deal of rock had to be smashed to
get at it. With automated mining equipment it would have been
simple enough, but working by hand it was a back-breaking and
tedious business.
       Most of it was being done by the three humans. Terrified as
they were of the Daleks, the Exxilons lacked the capacity for
methodical, organised tasks of this kind, and worked slowly and
inefficiently. When the Daleks discovered that threats simply made
them work less efficiently than ever, they had ordered the three
humans to join in the digging. Galloway had blustered and protested,
but in the end he had set to work with the others. There was no
alternative. Much of the Parrinium-bearing rock had been covered by
drifting sand, and the Exxilons had been put to work digging down to
it. They had dug out an enormous pit in the sand in their efforts to
reach the ore.
       Three Daleks supervised the digging from a vantage point high
on the dunes. Soon the Dalek leader appeared from the direction of
the ship, and joined them for a conference. He had left the fifth
Dalek, the expedition's scientist, hard at work in the ship's laboratory.
'Explosive charges will shortly be completed,' he announced
importantly. 'They must.be placed on the beacon on the summit of
the City and then detonated. A Dalek patrol will enter the City to
investigate scientific installations while the charges are being
positioned.'
       'Agreed.' This was the second in command. 'Will destruction of
the beacon restore electrical energy to the ship?'
       'Logic circuits suggest this is the source of interference.'
       There was a sudden commotion below them, and the Exxilons
at the bottom of the pit began climbing from the hole with shrill cries
of panic. One of the Daleks glided down the dune towards them.
'Return to work or you will be exterminated!'
       The panic-stricken Exxilons dashed past, and began
scrambling up the face of the dune.
       Intrigued by the commotion, Galloway, Hamilton and Jill
Tarrant ran to the edge of the crater and looked down. Nearly all the
Exxilons had fled by now, and only one solitary straggler was still
climbing desperately up the side of the pit.
       Puzzled, Jill stared down into the crater. There seemed to be no
reason for the sudden panic—then she noticed that the sand at the
bottom was rippling, as if something underneath was struggling to
get out...
       Suddenly an enormous metal snake shot out of the sand and
reared high in the air. The lens set into the blunt head glowed like a
single fiery eye.
       Peter Hamilton reached down to help the cowering Exxilon
worker, but it was too late. The metal snake reared up, hovered for a
moment then lunged at the terrified Exxilon. There was a sizzle of
power and the Exxilon screamed and fell back dead into the crater.
       Hamilton and the others backed hurriedly away, just as the first
of the Daleks appeared and opened fire.
       If any of the bullets hit the metal snake, they failed to harm it.
It lunged forward in a blur of speed, blasting at the Dalek with an
energy-bolt. The Dalek spun round, rushed blindly forwards, then
toppled over the edge of the crater, smoke billowing from its metal
casing. As the Dalek exploded, the snake retreated into the sand as
quickly as it had come. High on his dune, Jebal turned and scuttled
away.

       Sarah's head nodded on her chest as Bellal's voice droned on
and on. The Doctor had developed an obsessive curiosity about the
City, and he was engaged in pumping Bellal for every possible scrap
of information. Half-dozing, Sarah saw that Bellal was scratching in
the cave floor with a pointed stone. 'Thus is the design, Doctor,' he
was saying. 'Though I do not understand why it is of interest to you.'
       'All knowledge is valuable,' said the Doctor. 'And as a matter
of fact these signs are particularly interesting. just look at this, Sarah.'
       'What?' Sarah shook her head to wake herself up.
       'Bellal says markings like these are cut into the walls of the
City.'
       'That's right, I saw them myself. Do they mean anything?'
       'Indeed they do, Sarah. And I've seen them before too.'
       'Where?'
       'On the walls of a temple in Peru!'
       'That's impossible.'
       The Doctor beamed. 'That's what they said about the Peruvian
temple. It's one of the great mysteries of Earth. All your scientists
said no primitive race could possibly have built such a structure.
Well now we've solved the mystery.'
       'We have?'
       The Doctor turned to Bellai. 'You said your ancestors were
space travellers when Earth was still primitive?'
       'That is so.'
       'Then they must have visited the Earth at some period and
taught its people to build. They left traces of their culture behind
them.'
       Sarah found it difficult to share the Doctor's enthusiasm. 'This
is all very fascinating, but it isn't going to help us get off this planet.
What about the power-drain? What causes that?'
       The Doctor smiled. 'I'm coming to that, Sarah. The City gets its
energy in two ways—through roots in the ground, and by absorbing
it directly from the air. As soon as anything on the planet produces
energy, the City drains that energy from the atmosphere—my guess
is that it's done by that beacon on the tower.'
       'And that's what mucked up the TARDIS?'
       'Well, putting it crudely, yes. So, what we have to do is—'
       One of Bellal's people came running into the cave. 'One of the
machine creatures at the diggings has been destroyed by a probe.'
       Bellal was not surprised. 'The City must see the mining as a
threat. It is fighting back.'
      The Doctor said, 'Well, I must say it's being quite helpful at the
moment. So another of our Dalek friends has been disposed of, eh?'
He got to his feet. 'Come on, Sarah. We'll take a look at this City.
Bellal, will you be our guide?'

       At the Parriniurn diggings an agitated conference was taking
place. After repeated threats of extermination from the Daleks, the
Exxilon workers had been herded together again. But they flatly
refused to resume work at the same site, insisting that it was too
close to the City. Not even Dalek machine-guns could make them
change their minds.
       At last the Daleks had been forced to give way, and a new
deposit, much further from the City, had been located. Now the
Daleks were about to send the workers on their way.
       The Dalek leader's eye-stalk swivelled towards Jill Tarrant.
'The female will go with Exxilon workers. Male humans will remain
here.'
       Peter Hamilton moved to Jill's side, and put a protective arm
around her shoulders. 'Oh no you don't. We stay together.'
       Immediately, Dalek machine-guns swung round to cover him.
'Obey, or you will both be exterminated.'
       Jill Tarrant moved away. 'It's all right, Peter, someone's got to
sort out the ore. Don't worry, I can take care of myself.'
       Peter Hamilton knew there was no alternative. He had to obey,
or die. He moved over to Galloway, and Jill went over to the group
of Exxilons.
       The Dalek Ieader turned to the remaining Daleks. 'Patrol will
now leave. Two Daleks will enter City and carry out scientific
survey.'
       'We obey.' Two of the Daleks moved off.
       The leader swung round on the remaining Dalek. 'Male
humans will accompany you to the City tower.'
       Galloway scowled at the Dalek leader. 'Why us?'
       The Dalek leader indicated four small metal cylinders with
instruments set into the top. They had been brought from the Dalek
ship some time ago, and piled up dose to the diggings. A roll of
magnetic tape lay beside them. 'You will carry explosive charges to
City and fix them in position around the beacon.'
       Hamilton looked ironically at Galloway. 'It seems they want us
to do their dirty work for them. You're in command. What do we do?'
       'We do what we're told,' snarled Galloway. Under his breath he
added, 'For the moment!'
       The Dalek leader moved off after the working party and
Galloway picked up two cylinders.
       Pocketing the roll of magnetic tape, Hamilton did the same.
Followed by their Dalek guard, they set off towards the City.
       The Dalek leader turned to Jill Tarrant and the group of
Exxilon slaves. 'Work will commence at new diggings immediately.
Move!'

       The Doctor stood at the edge of the rocky plain and stared
admiringly up at the towering white bulk of the City. 'There's no
doubt about it, that must be one of the seven hundred wonders of the
Universe!
       'Wait till you get closer,' said Sarah. 'It's even more
impressive!
       'I'm sure it is. But you're not going any closer—not this time.'
       'Now look here, Doctor—'
       Cutting across her protest the Doctor said, 'I've got a very
important job for you to do.'
       'You're not just trying to get rid of me?'
       'Certainly not. Remember if the Earth ship doesn't get away
from here with the Parrinium, millions of people in the outer worlds
are going to die.'
       'What do you want me to do ?'
       'Contact the Earth expedition and make Galloway co-operate.
Somehow he's got to load a supply of Parrinium into his ship, and be
ready to blast off the instant power is restored. And remember, the
Daleks will get their power back too, and they'll do everything they
can to stop the Earth ship taking off. I know the Daleks of old, and
they're definitely not medical missionaries.'
       Bellal had gone on ahead, and he was waving impatiently.
Bellal seems to be getting worried, Doctor. You'd better be off.'
      'One more thing, Sarah,' said the Doctor awkwardly. 'If by any
chance I don't get back you must return to Earth with the expedition.
At least it will be your own world, if not your own time. Sorry I got
you into all this.'
      Before Sarah could answer, he turned and hurried after Bellal.

       It was a long and tiring journey across the baking heat of the
rocky plain. Bellal moved surprisingly quickly, darting across the
sun-baked rock like a lizard, and it was all the Doctor could do to
keep up with him. They reached the City wall at last, and the Doctor
stood staring in admiration at the gleaming white walls that towered
above him. 'It's beautiful,' he breathed.
       'To you, perhaps, Doctor. To me it is only evil. It sucks the life
from our planet.'
       The Doctor put an ear close to the wall, heard the distant hum
of mighty machinery. He touched one of the white bricks, and it
glowed briefly into life beneath his fingers. 'Touch-sensitised.
Brilliant. Simply brilliant.'
       Bellal led the way along to another section of wall. 'You
wanted to see the symbols. Here they are.'
       The Doctor followed Bellal and gazed in fascination at the
Aztec-like symbols carved deep into the walls. 'My belief is that they
form some kind of message,' said Bellal. 'I have tried many times to
interpret them, but the old knowledge is all lost. Do they hold any
meaning for you ?'
       'Perhaps,' murmured the Doctor. 'Perhaps. Are there any more?
Surely there must be more?'
       'They continue here,' Bellal led the way to an alcove set in the
wall. It was just big enough for the two of them to enter, and it was
covered with the strange symbols. This time they were low enough to
touch. The Doctor studied them. 'I think I'm on to something here.
This is a kind of intelligence test. One of these symbols doesn't
conform...'
       Bellal watched for a moment as the Doctor brooded over the
complex symbols, occasionally reaching out to run his fingers over
them. Feeling there was nothing he could do to help, Bellal went to
the edge of the alcove to look around. Two Daleks were heading
along the wall, coming straight towards him. Panic-stricken, Bellal
ducked back. 'Daleks, Doctor—coming this way!'
      The Doctor peered out, and a burst of Dalek machine-gun fire
whizzed past his nose.
      He jumped back, pulling Bellal with him.
      Bellal was chattering with fear. 'We're trapped, Doctor.
Trapped! As soon as they arrive they'll shoot us down—and there is
nowhere to run!'
                               11
                            The Trap
       The Doctor stared at the symbol-covered wall, thinking
furiously. What Bellal said was true enough. If they left the alcove
they would be exposed to the Daleks' fire. It was hopeless trying to
run. The bare white walls and the rocky plain offered not a scrap of
cover. For the moment the alcove protected them, but as soon as the
Daleks arrived...
       He stared at the carved symbols. 'Do be quiet, old chap. I'm
trying to concentrate.'
       The Daleks swung round into the alcove, machine-guns
blazing. They sprayed every inch of the confined space with
bullets—and suddenly stopped firing. Their eye-stalks swivelled
round in almost ludicrous surprise.
       The alcove was empty.
       Bellal was scarcely able to believe he was still alive. 'What did
you do, Doctor?'
       'Pressed the right button, it seems. I simply picked out the
symbol that didn't fit, and traced its outline with my finger.'
       'And that made the door slide open?'
       The Doctor shrugged. 'I can't imagine what else.'
       Bellal looked round, taking in his surroundings. They were in a
small, bare, white-walled room. Humanoid skeletons lay sprawled
about the floor. Bellal stared at them in horror. 'Doctor, what is this
place? Can we get out again?'
       The Doctor nodded towards the skeletons. 'I'm not sure. They
didn't.'
       'Then we have entered another trap?'
       The Doctor rubbed his chin. 'It can't be. That wouldn't make
sense.'
       Bellal gestured towards the twisted skeleton forms. 'These
must have been trapped, just as we were. Some of them may have
lain here for centuries.'
       The Doctor was thinking aloud. 'Yes... they passed the first
intelligence test, and got this far... and failed to pass the second!'
       'What test?'
       'I'm not sure. But there's got to be one. It's only logical!'
       His back to the sliding door that had admitted them—a door
which had now completely disappeared—the Doctor walked across
the room, picking his way across the gleaming white bones of those
who had gone before him. He stopped at the opposite wall, raised his
hand and pressed his palm against the smooth white surface.
Immediately the wall lit up, revealing an immensely complicated
design. 'Splendid, just as I thought!'
       'I don't understand, Doctor. This is just a pattern on the wall.'
       'No, no, it's much more than that. It's a maze... a test of skill
and logic that we have to solve before we can move further into the
City.'
       'And if we fail ?'
       'Presumably we stay here till we become like our bony friends.'
The Doctor brooded over the maze. 'Now then, point of entry here,
exit point here. Since the walls are touch-sensitised, I imagine that I
simply have to move my finger along the correct route.' The Doctor
stared at the maze in total concentration. Something told him that he
would only be given one chance. If his finger strayed from the
correct path, the maze pattern would fade, and the exit door be closed
forever.
       He put his finger on the starting point and began moving it
slowly through the maze.

       Meanwhile in the alcove, the two Daleks were tackling the
problem of gaining entry to the City. Not with a single intuitive flash,
like the Doctor, but with slow, remorseless Dalek logic.
       The first Dalek scanned the pattern with its eye-stick.
'Computer indicates that symbols contain simple logic test. We must
deduce which symbol does not conform to the others.'
       The second Dalek too was methodically scanning the pattern. 'I
will run computer check. All symbols have now been registered.'
There was a faint whirring, clicking sound as the Dalek's inner
computer processed the information. Then it announced
triumphantly. 'Non-conforming symbol now isolated.' With its
sucker-arm it indicated one of the symbols. 'This is key symbol.'
      The first Dalek glided closer to the wall and began tracing the
outline of the symbol with its sucker-arm. There was a hum of
hidden machinery and a door started to slide smoothly open.

      'There!' said the Doctor triumphantly. His finger moved to the
maze exit, the pattern faded and a door slid back revealing a long
white corridor. Bellal hung back in fear. Suddenly the door by which
they'd first entered started to open. 'Come along,' said the Doctor.
'The Daleks are close behind us.' They stepped into the corridor, and
the door closed behind them.
      A moment later the Daleks were in the room. Their eye-sticks
swivelled to and 'Scan the walls,' ordered the first Dalek. 'We must
locate next access point!'

       The corridor went on and on for what seemed a very long
way—then suddenly it widened out into a kind of hall. The floor
changed too. A complex pattern of glowing red and white tiles
marked with strange symbols stretched across their path. Bellal
would have hurried across it, but the Doctor held him back. 'Stay
where you are.'
       'What is it?'
       'Another test, I think. The people who built this place were
hardly likely to go in for ornamental flooring just for the sake of it.'
       Bellal shook his head wearily. Ever since entering the City
they seemed to have been beset by new and terrifying dangers. 'I
don't understand. What must we do this time?'
       The Doctor smiled. 'Ever played Venusian hop-scotch? No, of
course you haven't.' He produced his sonic screwdriver, and made a
quick adjustment. 'This is where we cheat a little.' He knelt by the
pattern and began scanning the tiles one by one. The sonic
screwdriver gave out a low buzzing sound, which occasionally shot
up to a higher pitch. The Doctor stepped on to one of the red squares,
and knelt to test the tiles in front of him. 'Now then, I want you to
follow me exactly. Step on the same squares as I do—and on no
others.' The Doctor took another step forward, and turned to guide
Bellal. 'That's right, old chap, take it steady. The red one first... now
jump two squares to that white one... that's it, good...' Step by step
the Doctor led Bellal through the pattern, weaving his way across the
chess-board of red and white squares. With a final leap, he reached
the other side, and reached out to help Bellal to safety. 'One last
jump, old chap. There, that's it!' He slapped the baffled little Exxilon
on the back. 'Here we are. Jolly little game, don't you think?'
       'I do not understand, Doctor,' said Bellal irritably. 'Was all that
really necessary?'
       'Oh, I think so,' said the Doctor. He fished in, his pocket,
produced an old coin and examined it. 'Do I need five piastres? No,
of course I don't. Just you watch this!' The Doctor tossed the coin on
to the giant chess-board, choosing a square they hadn't stepped on.
There was a fierce crackle of electrical power, a shower of sparks,
and a sudden explosion. The smoke cleared and the Doctor said,
'Look!' The little coin had been fused into a shapeless blob of metal.
'That might have been us, Bellal—now let's go and see what other
pleasures they have in store for us!'

       The door slid open, and the two Daleks emerged cautiously
into the corridor. 'Proceed with all caution,' commanded the first
Dalek. 'This territory will be classified as hostile.'
       'Understood.'
       The Daleks moved slowly on, coming at last to the broad hall
with its pattern of chequered tiles. Since Daleks take no interest in
the finer points of interior decoration, they failed to see anything
unusual in the red and white chequered pattern on the floor of the
hall. The first Dalek glided straight on to it—and was hurled back
with a fierce crackle of sparks.
       The second Dalek reacted instantly, firing a series of sweeping
bursts that riddled the chessboard pattern with bullets, exploding
most of the deadly electrical circuits beneath it. The Dalek sped
across the smoking floor in a determined rush, and came to a halt at
the other side. It turned and scanned its wounded colleague. It was
weaving dazedly to and fro, smoke pouring from the bottom of its
casing. 'Damage report,' ordered the second Dalek.
       'Non-conductive shielding partially burnt-out. Sensors record
massive electrical charge. No serious damage—am able to proceed.'
The wounded Dalek crossed the exploded floor to join its fellow.
With a note of satisfaction it reported, 'Weapon designed to destroy
humanoid tissue. Ineffective against superior Dalek shielding. We
will continue.'
       The recovered Dalek glided on, but the first Dalek ordered,
'Wait. Observe. We must gather scientific data.' The bullet-riddled
floor was repairing itself before their very eye-stalks, the damaged
tiles regenerating themselves into their former pattern of red and
white. The Daleks observed the spectacle unimpressed. 'Note that
City has self-regeneration faculties,' ordered the first Dalek.
'Proceed.'
       The Daleks moved remorselessly on.

      The Doctor and Bellal found that the corridor they were
following ended in a blank wall—but as they approached the wall, a
door slid back to admit them to a bare white-walled room much like
the one by which they had entered the City—though this one at least
had no skeletons littering the floor.
      Bellal gazed round despairingly. 'We make no progress,
Doctor.'
      'Don't be too sure. Moving through this City is like being
inside a living thing—in its bloodstream, rather than its stomach, I
hope! We're being passed along like invading microbes. But all the
time we're moving nearer the heart.'

       As darkness began to fall, and the eerie fog seemed to rise out
of the ground, Sarah decided it was time to make a move. She slid
out of the little hollow she had dug for herself in the sand, and peered
cautiously over the top of the dune.
       Work on the diggings had stopped as darkness came down, and
now the black-robed Exxilon slave-workers were huddled round a
low fire. A little way from the fire, Sarah could see Jill Tarrant,
leaning back wearily against the lower slopes of a dune. She seemed
to be dozing. There was no sign of Galloway or Hamilton.
        A single Dalek sentry was patrolling the site of the diggings,
gliding around the perimeter of the area on a regular circuit.
        It was this sentry which had been delaying Sarah's mission.
There was no chance of contacting the Earth expedition in daylight,
without being spotted, so Sarah had made herself a hiding place in
the sand and caught up with her sleep. Now it was time to move.
        She slid quietly down the side of the dune, freezing whenever
the Dalek sentry came in sight. A final dash brought her close to the
dozing girl. 'Jill,' she whispered. 'Psst! Jill! Can you hear me?'
        Jill Tarrant's head jerked up. 'Sarah? Where are you?'
        'Just behind you. Keep your voice down, and don't look at me
when you talk.'
        Flat on her stomach, Sarah wriggled closer to Jill, using the
girl's body to shield her from the Dalek.
        'What happened to you?' whispered Jill. 'Where's the Doctor?'
        'He's gone to the City. He's going to try and switch off that
beacon. He thinks it's causing the power-block. Where are the
others?'
        'No idea. The Daleks kept them behind and sent me off here.'
        'The Doctor sent me here with a message for you all —but if
the others aren't here...'
        'We shall have to manage without them,' said Jill determinedly.
'What does he want us to do?'
        'Somehow you've got to get the Parrinium into your ship, and
be ready for take-off when the power comes back on. How much
Parrinium have you found?'
        Jill gestured to a pile of filled sacks. 'More than enough. The
concentration here is incredibly high. When it's processed back on
Earth that ore will yield enough Parrinium to end the space plague
for good.'
        'Somehow we've got to find a way of getting it on to your ship,'
said Sarah thoughtfully.
        'With a Dalek standing guard?'
        'I know... but we've still got to try. Just let me think for a
moment.'
        Sarah lay still, looking at her watch, and studying the
movements of the patrolling Dalek. It was carrying out its patrol in
the systematic manner so typical of the Dalek mentality, covering the
same route at the same speed on every circuit.
        Sarah made a final calculation and said, 'Right, that's it!'
        'What is?'
        'I've been timing that sentry. It takes about twenty minutes to
do the full circuit—and for over half the time it's out of sight behind
the dunes.'
        'So?'
        'Well, if we can't see it, it can't see us. We've got ten minutes in
every twenty to work unseen. Now then, have you got any empty
sacks?'
        Jill nodded. 'There's a huge pile just over there. We're
supposed to go on mining tomorrow. Why?'
        'As soon as the Dalek's out of sight you sneak over and get
them. Wait till I give the word.' Sarah paused, watching the Dalek.
'Right—now !'
        The Dalek disappeared behind the dune, and Jill sprinted for
the sacks. She returned with a pile of them in a matter of minutes and
by the time the Dalek reappeared she was leaning innocently against
the dune again.
        'Right,' whispered Sarah. 'Now, as soon as the Dalek's out of
sight, we start filling these empty sacks with sand. We want a pile as
big as the pile of Parrinium sacks.'
        'But we can only work half the time,' protested Jill. 'It'll take all
night.'
        'Then we'd better get on with it, hadn't we?' Sarah began
scooping sand into one of the empty sacks with her hands.
                            12
                       The Nightmare
       The Doctor abandoned his search of the room in some disgust.
'Nothing! Not a single clue. And yet every part of our route through
this City has been carefully planned. This room must be here for a
purpose.'
       'Perhaps we have come as far as we are permitted?' suggested
Bellal. 'Ought we to turn back?'
       'No, it would be fatal to give up—literally so, I imagine. We'll
just have to start again.'
       Patiently the Doctor took up the search, running his hand over
every inch of walls and floor that he could reach, trying to discover
some clue to the next test. Dispiritedly Bellal did the same, though he
didn't really expect to succeed where the Doctor had failed.
       Yet in a way it was Bellal who found the solution. He ran his
hands over a section of wall already checked once by the Doctor.
This time the wall did respond. A tiny point of light appeared on its
surface. Bellal was about to call the Doctor when the light began
pulsing in a regular rhythm. Bellal found he could neither speak nor
take his eyes from it.
       The Doctor finished examining a section of wall for the third
time. He shook his head. 'I've got a funny feeling that somehow I'm
missing the point of all this...'
       Bellal didn't answer. The Doctor turned and saw that the little
Exxilon was creeping towards him, arms out-stretched like a
sleepwalker, hands curved into talons. Before the Doctor could react,
Bellal launched himself across the room and seized him by the
throat. The Doctor grabbed the Exxilon's wrists and tried to pull them
away. But Bellal was filled with unnatural strength, and the Doctor
realised that he was fighting the City itself. He stared deep into
Bellal's glowing eyes and shouted, 'Bellal, don't! Remember where
we are, and why we came here. Think! We're in the City, Bellal. I am
your friend. Your friend!'
      Slowly the mad glare faded from Bellal's eyes. 'What... what
happened?' he sobbed.
      The Doctor patted him on the back. 'All right, old chap, it's all
over now. What's the last thing you remember?'
      'There was this light... it kept flashing...'
      'Testing our ability to deal with mind control, I imagine—and
look, we seem to have passed the test!'
      A door was opening in the wall ahead of them. The Doctor
looked down at Bellal. 'Do you feel ready to go on?'
      'No...' said Bellal wearily. 'But I know that we must.' They
passed through the door, and it closed behind them.
      A few minutes later the Daleks entered the empty room.

        Although it was dark now, the periodic flashes from the
beacon lit up the area with unnatural clarity. Hamilton and Galloway
stood gazing up at the impressive height of the tower. Built against
the outer wall of the City, the tower was constructed rather like a
child's pile of bricks. An immense slab of stone formed the base, on
top stood a slightly smaller slab, on top of that another still smaller
slab, and so on until the topmost cube of stone which housed the
beacon itself. Because of this construction the tower narrowed as it
rose, and each of the four sides formed an immense flight of steps.
        Galloway turned to their Dalek guard. 'We're supposed to go
up there?'
        'The climb is well within human capability. When you reach
the summit you will place explosive charges beneath the beacon.'
        Hamilton looked up at the great flashing light that hung in the
sky so far above them. Were they really supposed to destroy it with
these four little metal cylinders? 'Suppose we refuse to make the
climb?'
        'The girl will be exterminated. You will obey.'
        Hamilton looked at Dan Galloway, who nodded abruptly. They
moved over to the base of the tower. 'You will be in range of my fire
at all times,' warned the Dalek. 'Bomb-timing devices are already set.
You will activate them and descend the tower. Do this and your lives
will be spared.'
       'Let's get on with it,' said Galloway wearily. He put down the
two bomb cylinders, and Hamilton did the same. By standing on
tiptoe, Hamilton could just reach the edge of the bottom step. 'You'll
have to give me a leg up, Dan.'
       Galloway crouched down until Hamilton could get a foot on
his shoulder, then slowly straightened up, hoisting him on to the first
ledge. Once Hamilton was up there, Galloway passed him the four
bombs, one by one. When they were safely on the ledge, Hamilton
reached down and heaved Galloway up beside him. 'There you are
then,' he said grimly. 'We do that a few hundred times and we'll be at
the top!'
       Watched by the patrolling Dalek, they began the ascent of the
next ledge.

        The smooth white corridors stretched on and on. Bellal looked
up at the Doctor, who was walking calmly ahead, apparently untired,
and unafraid. Bellal, who was both, said hopefully, 'We've come
quite a long way without any tests, Doctor.'
        'I think we must be getting close to the centre of the City.'
        'Perhaps we are safe now?'
        'I wouldn't count on it. Has it occurred to you to wonder why
the City is testing us like this?'
        'What do you mean?'
        'The City could have destroyed us a hundred times by now.
Instead it's given us an opportunity to survive, by continually proving
our intelligence.'
        'That is so,' agreed Bellal. 'But what is its purpose in doing this
?'
        'Perhaps by passing the tests we show we have an intelligence-
level that could be useful. We might have knowledge that it can add
to its data-banks for instance.'
        'And afterwards?'
        'The one thing that menaces the City is the development of any
outside intelligence on the planet. I believe it lures any intelligent
beings inside with its tests—and once it has taken their knowledge, it
destroys them.'
        'Then I was right after all. We have entered a trap.'
        'Perhaps so. But remember, traps can be made to open as well
as close.'
        Suddenly they came to a dead-end.
        The lights in the corridor began to pulse. Strange whirling
colours began flashing before their eyes, and the air was filled with
discordant electronic noises.
        'What is it, Doctor?' cried Bellal. 'What's happening?'
        'I think it's the ultimate test—an assault on our sanity ! Resist
it, Bellal. Try to block it from your mind.'
        Reality began to blur and shimmer round them as walls and
floor began spinning into twisted, writhing multi-coloured shapes.
Electronic shrieks howled through their brains, making thought
impossible. Bellal dropped to the floor. Arms wrapped round his
head and knees drawn up to his chin, he rolled himself into a tight
ball, trying vainly to shut out the lights and the sounds.
        The Doctor however forced himself to stare unblinkingly into
the screaming vortex of madness. 'You are an illusion,' he shouted.
'You have no substance, no truth. You do not exist. You do not exist!'
        There was utter silence. The swirling lights disappeared, the
sounds cut off, walls and floor returned to solid reality. The Doctor
helped Bellal to get up. 'It's all right,' he said gently. 'It's over now.'
        Bellal's eyes were staring over the Doctor's shoulder. 'Look,
Doctor,' he breathed.
        The Doctor turned. A door slid back in the wall before them,
revealing an enormous control room. It was lined with complex
instrument panels and dominated by one central console. There was a
chair before this console and in it a white-robed figure. It sat
motionless, regarding them, eyes bright in the mummified face
beneath the hood.
        'The last survivor,' whispered the Doctor. 'Perhaps the City
kept him here to serve it.' He took a step nearer and the wizened
figure shimmered, blurred, and dissolved into a pile of dust. Bellal
jumped back with a cry of horror.
        'Our fault, I'm afraid,' said the Doctor. 'Our entry set up an air
current—and that was enough to break the surface tension that held
him together.'
       The door closed behind them, blocking their escape. Bellal
looked at the banks of complex instruments. 'Is this the heart of the
City?'
       'The heart, the brain, and the nervous system. This is what we
have to destroy.'
       Bellal lowered his voice in awe. 'For thousands of years the
City has defied all attempts to harm it. Can we really end its power?'
       The Doctor too was looking round. 'I think there is a way. But
to destroy it, I must first know more about it.' He began moving
about the room, studying the complex instrument panels, whirling
dials and luminous gauges with absorbed attention.
       Bellal looked on, feeling as usual a little lost. He knew he
could never hope to understand the complex science of his ancestors.
He wandered over to the far side of the wall, where a number of
translucent screens were set into the wall. As he stared at them, they
slowly became transparent. They seemed like windows to another
room adjoining the one they were in, an immense shadowy room
filled with swirling mists.
       Bellal stared into the mist in fascination. As he watched,
strange, monstrous shapes started forming behind the screens...
                            13
                       The Antibodies
      Bellal sprang back in alarm. 'Doctor, come quickly.;
      The Doctor came over to him, and they both stood staring in
fascination. The giant shapes were larger now, more distinct, and
they were beginning to take on a vaguely humanoid form. 'I'm afraid
we have less time than I thought,' said the Doctor gravely.
      'What is it, Doctor? What's happening?'
      'The City is creating these creatures to protect itself—like
antibodies. I think it has decided we're a danger to it, so it's devising
means to neutralise us.' He turned away, reaching for his sonic
screwdriver. 'Keep an eye on them for me, Bellal. Warn me when
they seem to be—complete.' Hurrying to the central computer
terminal, the Doctor began dismantling the control panel.

      Ignoring the pain in his aching muscles, Peter Hamilton
dragged himself on to the topmost ledge of the beacon tower.
Gasping for breath he reached down and took the bombs Galloway
passed up to him, stowing them well away from the edge. Then with
one final heave, he helped Galloway to scramble on to the ledge
beside him. For a moment the two men lay there gasping, recovering
from the tremendous effort of the climb. It had been a nightmarish
business, all the worse because it had been so repetitive. They had
repeated the same set of actions over and over again, working
themselves, and the bombs, up the endless ledges.
      Now, at last, they had reached the top. Every few seconds the
glare of the flashing beacon lit up the area for miles around. They
could see the sprawling white buildings and towers of the City, and
the bare rocky plain all around. Far below was the tiny figure of the
watchful Dalek, waiting for them to complete their mission and come
down.
      Hamilton looked up. The beacon itself was set upon a kind of
metallic framework rather like a miniature Eiffel Tower, which rose
out of the block on which they were standing. 'Four supporting legs,
four bombs,' said Hamilton. 'Come on, let's fix a bomb on each one
and then get down.'
       He fished the magnetic tape from his pocket and used it to lash
the bomb to the first support. He raised the detonating section,
flicked it into activity and thrust home the activating plunger.
Working his way round the ledge he fixed the second bomb and the
third. He waited for Galloway to pass him the fourth and last bomb,
but Galloway shook his head. 'No. Not this one.'
       'Look, that Dalek is watching every move we make.'
       Determinedly Galloway tucked the last little cylinder inside his
tunic. 'It can't make out details at this range. 'Three charges will bring
down the beacon just as well as four. This is the only weapon we've
got, and we're taking it back with us. Now come on. Those bombs
are ticking, remember.' Galloway dropped down on to the ledge
below, and Hamilton followed him. At least it would be easier going
down.
       He wondered what Galloway planned to do with the bomb...

       Night on Exxilon is short, and the first signs of dawn were
appearing in the sky, as the Dalek came round the dune on its final
circuit. The Exxilon slave-workers were already shuffling towards
the diggings, and the Dalek glided up to the Earth girl, who lay
sleeping beneath her blanket.
       'Work will re-commence at dawn. Move!'
       There was no response.
       'Move!' repeated the Dalek angrily. It extended its sucker-arm
and twitched the blanket away—to reveal a pile of sand shaped
roughly into human form. 'The human female has escaped. I have
failed, I have failed. She must be located.' The Dalek began a frantic
search of the area, but Jill Tarrant was gone.

       Bellal looked uneasily at the figures behind the screens. They
were almost complete now, giant lumpy versions of the basic
humanoid form with massive limbs and blurred, shapeless features.
They looked like huge clay men brought to hideous life. They
stirred... Bellal called, 'Doctor, I think we should go now!'
      The Doctor looked up from a maze of dismantled and
reassembled circuitry. 'All right, Bellal, nearly finished.'
      Bellal went over to watch him. 'What are you trying to do?'
      'There's no time to find and isolate the beacon circuits as I'd
hoped. So I'm using a kind of psychological warfare. I'm trying to
confuse the City's brain, engineer what humans would call a nervous
breakdown.'
      'Will that have the same effect?'
      The Doctor cross-connected another circuit. 'I hope so. A
computer is a thing of logic. It can't cope with paradox.'
      Bellal stood watching the Doctor at work. He didn't notice that
the huge forms behind the screens had come fully alive, and that the
screens were sliding silently back.

       The two Daleks had endured a battery of mind-bending lights
and sounds with stolid indifference. Daleks have so little imagination
that it is almost impossible to hypnotise them. Eventually the effects
had died away, and a door had slid open before them. The Daleks
glided swiftly through.

       Just as the Doctor finished his task, an enormous, shapeless
hand fell on Bellal's shoulder, gripping it with crushing force. One of
the giant zombies had him in its grip. He screamed and the Doctor
grabbed Beilal's other arm and pulled him free. They began backing
away, as the creature lurched slowly towards them. More of the giant
zombies came forward, forming a menacing semi-circle in front of
the Doctor and Bellal.
       They retreated further and further across the control room,
dodging between the banks of instruments. The leading zombie
found its way blocked by a computer terminal, and smashed it aside
with a single sweep of its club-like arm. Other zombie creatures
rampaged through the control room, destroying everything that stood
in their path.
       Lights began flashing on and off erratically and there was a
whine of tortured machinery. The Doctor wondered if it was a result
of his own efforts or the damage caused by the antibodies
themselves. Not that it mattered very much. By now they were
trapped against a blank wall with zombies lurching closer and closer,
huge hands outstretched. There was no escape.
        Once again the Doctor was saved by his enemies. The door
opened and two Daleks glided into the room. At the sight of the
Doctor they gave a triumphant cry of 'Exterminate!' and opened fire.
        The Doctor and Bellal threw themselves down. Dalek
machine-gun bullets ripped across the room, thudding into the
massive bodies of the zombies. The creatures turned and began
lumbering towards their new enemies.
        The Daleks fired a series of frantic bursts, but their bullets had
little effect. The zombies hesitated for a moment, as the bullets struck
them, and then lurched forward to the attack.
        'Quick, Bellal,' shouted the Doctor. 'Now's our chance.' They
began moving around the edge of the battle. 'Halt! Do not move!'
screamed one of the Daleks. It swung round to fire at the Doctor, but
suddenly the leading zombie was upon it. It seized the Dalek's gun-
stick in one colossal hand and slowly bent it up into the shape of a
letter U. The Doctor and Bellal dashed through the still-open door.
        They hurtled down the corridor at frantic speed, until they
reached one of the sliding doors that had barred their way in. It was
opening and shutting erratically. 'The City controls are breaking
down,' said the Doctor exultantly. 'It's working, Bellal! With any luck
the other traps won't be operating either! Come on!' They hared on
down the corridor.
        In the computer control room, the Daleks were falling back
before the zombie attack. Their cries of 'Exterminate!' gave way to
frantic screams of 'Retreat! Retreat!' Spinning round, they shot
through the open door in pursuit of the Doctor and Bellal.
Remorselessly, the zombie antibodies lumbered after them.

      Unharmed and unhindered, Doctor and Bellal passed the
nightmare room, the electrified pavement, and the room full of
skeletons and arrived at last in the alcove through which they'd
entered the City. Bellal collapsed gasping against the wall. 'I never
believed we would escape, Doctor.'
      'Never say die, Bellal,' said the Doctor. 'Mind you the battle's
not over yet. The Daleks will do everything in their power to stop the
Earth mission from getting off the planet. Come on, we'd better see
what we can do to help.' Apparently unaffected by their ordeals, the
Doctor set off briskly across the rocks. With a groan Bellal heaved
himself upright and staggered after him.

       Their Dalek guard close behind them, Fnmilton and Galloway
trudged towards the mining area. Galloway was still hugging the
bomb beneath his coat. He had been silent and morose on the long
journey back, and Hamilton wondered again what he was planning.
He took a quick glance at his wrist-chronometer, wondering how
long before the bombs they'd set on the beacon were due to detonate.
       The Dalek leader came forward to meet their guard. 'Report.'
       'Explosive devices now in position. Detonation will occur
shortly, and power will be restored.'
       'Prepare for immediate take-off,' ordered the leader.
       Peter Hamilton looked round. The Exxilon slaves were still
filling the last few bags, but there was no sign of Jill. 'Where's the
girl you were holding?'
       There was a brief silence. 'Come on,' demanded Hamilton.
'Tell me where she is.'
       'She escaped during darkness. Now that our work is almost
completed she is of no importance. You will load the Parrinium bags
on to our ship. Move!'

       The Doctor and Bellal arrived at the edge of the dunes just in
time to see Hamilton and Galloway carrying the last of the Parrinium
bags towards the Dalek ship.
       'The Daleks seem to be getting ready to leave,' said the Doctor
thoughtfully. 'So they must be pretty confident they'll be able to blast
off. I wonder what they've been up to?'
       Bellal turned and looked behind them. The white towers of the
City gleamed behind them, and the great beacon was still flashing. 'I
think we have failed, Doctor. The City is unharmed. Soon it will
repair the little damage we have done. Now the Daleks are leaving
with the medicine the humans need, and we are powerless to stop
them.'
      'You're not being logical, Bellal,' said the Doctor severely. 'If
the City is undamaged, the Daleks can't leave. No, I think they must
have—' He broke off suddenly. 'Get down!'
      'What is it, Doctor?'
      'Someone's coming up the other side of the dune...'
                           14
                     The Last Victory
       Bellal crouched down. The Doctor peered over the top of the
dunes—and jumped to his feet with a cry of delight. 'Sarah! Thank
goodness you're safe.'
       'Doctor!' Sarah came running up the dune, Jill Tarrant close
behind her. There was a confused babble of greetings. 'Did you
succeed, Doctor?' asked Sarah. 'Will we get the power back?'
       The Doctor said ruefully, 'I'm not sure. It'll take time for the
effects to show. What about you?'
       Sarah said triumphantly, 'We've just got back from the Earth
mission ship.'
       'Everything's set for blast-off the minute we get full power,'
said Jill. 'But we've still got to rescue Dan and Peter. I can't handle
the ship on my own.'
       The Doctor said, 'I'm afraid that's not going to be easy. They're
heading for the Dalek ship!'

       Hamilton and Galloway staggered up the ramp and dumped the
last of the Parrinium sacks in the hold just inside the doorway. It had
taken a number of trips to get all the bags on board. The Dalek leader
was already at the control panel. Hamilton dumped his bags down
any old how, but Galloway began stacking the bags neatly in the
hold. What was he up to now, currying favour with the Daleks,
thought Hamilton irritably. 'Come on, Dan,' he said. Galloway waved
him away, and suddenly Hamilton realised what Galloway was
doing. He still had the bomb—and if he could plant it somewhere on
the Dalek ship...
       The Dalek sentry was waiting at the bottom of the ramp.
'Where is your companion?'
       'Your leader told him to stack the bags. He'll be out in a
moment.'
       The Dalek turned indifferently away. It was scanning the
surrounding area, looking for the two Daleks who had gone to the
City.
       Hamilton sneaked another look at his wrist chronometer.
Surely there couldn't be long to go...
       Shading his eyes he looked at the still-flashing beacon—and it
disappeared in a brilliant white flash. The thunder of the distant
explosion rolled across the dunes to the Dalek ship.
       The Dalek leader saw the lights flash up on its control panel,
checked that power was back and glided to the top of the ramp.
       'Full power is now restored. You will board the ship.'
       The sentry Dalek moved up the ramp and followed its leader
into the control room. The Dalek leader made a rapid check of the
control panel.
       'We shall now commence the power build-up for blast-off.'
       'The Dalek patrol has not yet reported back from the City.'
       'Send urgent re-call signal.'
       'No one is guarding the human captives. Shall I exterminate
them?'
       'Not necessary. They will perish like all other life on this
planet.'

      The Doctor and his companions were staring towards the City
from their vantage point high in the dunes. The top of the tower was
no more than a jagged stump. 'They've destroyed the beacon,'
whispered Jill. 'Will that restore the power?'
      'I think so, Jill. I'm afraid it looks as if the Daleks are going to
get away with your Parrinium after all...'
      'Doctor, there's something we haven't told you,' began Sarah.
      A metallic voice came from behind them. 'Do not move or you
will be exterminated.' They turned—
      The two Daleks from the City had caught up with them. The
Doctor noticed with wry amusement that the second Dalek's gun-
stick was bent into an upward-pointing U, giving the Dalek a
curiously drunken air. But the other Dalek's machine-gun was in full
working order, and it was covering the little group at point-blank
range. 'We shall go to the ship,' ordered the Dalek. 'Move!'
       When they reached the ship they found Peter Hamilton
waiting. The Dalek leader came out of the ship, and the two Daleks
from the City went on board. The Doctor stared boldly at the Dalek
leader, now left alone with the little group of captives. 'Well, don't
prolong the agony. I presume you mean to kill us?'
       'Such a death would be too easy, Doctor. You will stay on the
planet and die in agony.'
       'What makes you so sure?'
       'As soon as we take off we shall bombard this area with space-
plague missiles. You will be infected before you can reach the safety
of your ships. You will all perish as a warning to those who oppose
the plans of the Daleks.'
       'What is your plan exactly?' asked the Doctor curiously. 'I take
it your story of a plague on Dalek planets was pure invention?'
       'Correct. Daleks are immune to the disease.'
       'Then what do you want the Parrinium for?'
       'When we hold all available supplies of Parrinium, all Earth
colonies will surrender to the Daleks or perish from the space
plague.'
       'Don't you think Earth will send other missions?' asked Peter
Hamilton defiantly. 'Now the power blockage is over we can have
more ships here in no time.'
       'I imagine the Daleks have taken that possibility into account,
Peter,' said the Doctor. 'You're forgetting those space plague
missiles.'
       'Correct, Doctor. Before any Earth ship can arrive, the plague
will have spread to contaminate the entire planet. Further landings
will be impossible.'
       The Dalek leader backed up the ramp, the doors closed behind
it, and the ramp retracted. A low rumble of power came from the
ship.
       Peter Hamilton was staring up at the Dalek ship. 'What the
blazes is Galloway up to? He should have planted that bomb and got
off by now.'
       Jill stared at him. 'You mean Galloway's still on there?'
       'He was the last time I saw him. Unless he's managed to sneak
off by some other way—and in that case, where is he?'
       The rumble from the Dalek ship increased. 'No time to look for
him now,' said the Doctor. 'We'll be caught in the rocket exhaust if
we don't get away from here.'
       Followed by Bellal, the Doctor and Sarah ran for the dunes.
Hamilton grabbed Jill's hand and pulled her after them. They climbed
to the top of the nearest sand dune and watched the Dalek ship rise
into the sky on a column of fire.
       'Now, listen,' said the Doctor urgently. 'We must all get to our
own ships and take off. There's just a chance we can get away before
those missiles land.'
       'But the Daleks have taken all the Parrinium,' shouted Peter.
'We must gather more.'
       The Doctor shook his head. 'There's no time, young man—'
       'It's all right,' said Sarah. 'The Daleks haven't got the
Parrinium, you have! Jill and I loaded it on to your ship.'
       Peter stared at her. 'But the bags we loaded on to the Dalek
ship?'
       'Sand,' said Sarah triumphantly. 'It took us all last night to fill
them up.'
       'Splendid,' said the Doctor. 'Very well done. Now, may I
remind you we're still in danger of a very nasty death if we don't take
off before they fire those missiles ? Run for your ship, you two—
now!'
       As they began to run, Hamilton shouted to Jill, 'I should never
have trusted Galloway. I should have set that bomb myself. He must
have lost his nerve, surrendered to the Daleks...'

      In the Dalek control room, the leader announced, 'Prepare to
launch plague missiles.'
      'I obey.' The Dalek glided to another part of the control room.
      Hidden behind the stack of bags in the hold, Dan Galloway
took the bomb from beneath his tunic, and set the timer to 'Instant'.
He remembered the words of the dying Commander Stewart. A glory
hunter, was he? Galloway drew a deep shuddering breath, and
pressed home the plunger.
       Haring across the dunes, the Doctor glanced up at the
ascending Dalek ship—and saw it explode into a fireball in the sky.
He stopped running. 'It's all right, everybody, no need to run. There's
plenty of time now.'
       A little later Hamilton came up to him. 'That was Dan
Galloway,' he said softly.
       The Doctor nodded. 'He could have set the bomb to delayed
action, but the Daleks might have found it. I imagine he wanted to
make sure.'
       They climbed slowly to the top of the dune, and stood silent
for a moment. The Doctor turned to Jill Tarrant and Peter Hamilton.
'Well, now it's up to you two to get the Parrinium to where it's
needed.'
       There was a sudden shout from Sarah who had turned to look
at the City. 'Look, everyone!'
       They all looked. Perhaps because of the Doctor's work on the
computer, perhaps because of the Dalek assault on the beacon,
perhaps even because of its own rampaging antibodies, the City was
dying. Its clean-cut geometrical shapes were dissolving into
shapeless blobs, melting and running away over the rocks. Sarah
thought that it looked like some elaborate ice-cream sculpture, left
exposed to the blazing heat of the sun.
       'We succeeded after all,' whispered Bellal. 'The City is dead.'
       'Rather a pity, in a way,' said the Doctor. 'Now there are only
six hundred and ninety-nine wonders in the Universe!'
       The Doctor and Sarah said their goodbyes, and headed for the
TARDIS.
       The Doctor rubbed his hands. 'Now for Florana, Sarah,' he said
happily. 'I expect you feel like a little holiday after all this!'
       'You can forget about Florana, Doctor,' said Sarah firmly. 'Just
you concentrate on getting me home!'