The world is held in the grip of a second Ice Age, and
faces total destruction from the rapidly advancing
glaciers.
DOCTOR WHO, with Victoria and Jamie, lands at a top
scientific base in England, where they have just unearthed
an ancient ICE WARRIOR. Aliens from Mars, preserved in
the ice for centuries and now revitalised, the Ice Warriors
feel ready to take over...
Can the Doctor overcome these warlike Martians and halt
the relentless approach of the ice glaciers...?

ISBN 0 426 10866 3
          DOCTOR WHO
            AND THE
          ICE WARRIORS

 Based on the BBC television serial by Brian Hayles by
arrangement with the British Broadcasting Corporation




              BRIAN HAYLES




                    published by
              The Paperback Division of
               W. H. Allen & Co. Ltd
A Target Book
Published in 1976
by the Paperback Division of W. H. Allen & Co. Ltd.
A Howard & Wyndham Company
44 Hill Street, London W1X 8LB

Copyright © Brian Hayles 1976
‘Doctor Who’ series copyright © British Broadcasting
Corporation 1976

Printed in Great Britain by
Anchor Brendon Ltd, Tiptree, Essex

ISBN 0 426 10866 3

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.
CONTENTS

1 Battle Against the Glaciers
2 Two Minutes to Doomsday
3 Creature from the Red Planet
4 Back from the Dead
5 The Omega Factor
6 Under the Moving Mountain
7 Diplomat in Danger
8 The Martian Ultimatum
9 Counter-Attack
10 On the Brink of Destruction!
                       1
           Battle Against the Glaciers
       ‘Stand by all personnel! Base evacuation procedure, phase one.
Section leaders report immediately!’
       The urgent, metallic voice of the computer cut across
the quiet bustle of the Brittanicus Base Ioniser Operations
Unit. Although the monitoring technicians continued to work
at their places on the central control desk, the stand-by crews
moved briskly to their assembly stations, ready for routine
evacuation drill.
       ‘Base evacuation procedure, phase one, general alert.’ Senior
Control Technician Jan Garrett hurried to the sleek control
deck of ECCO, the computer’s communications unit, and
stabbed the ‘personal response’ button. The streamlined,
artificial head containing ECCO’s video-eye swung into line
with Jan’s tense face.
       ‘Reference stand-by alert,’ she said tersely, cold grey
eyes frowning behind her prim spectacles. ‘Explain.’
       ‘Threat of possible Ioniser breakdown.’ It replied crisply,
without a trace of emotion. ‘Relay checks report malfunction build-
up. Full data not yet available. All untracked Ioniser faults require
evacuation stand-by...’ it continued.
       As the voice clattered on, Jan Garrett hurried in the
direction of the Ioniser Control room. She didn’t need a
lecture from ECCO—she was all too well aware of the
dangers. If the Ioniser ever got completely out of control, it
would mean total disaster. Not only would the entire unit be
wiped out, but this area of southern Brittanicus would be
plunged into a state of radiation half-life for the next five
hundred years. And without the defensive barrier of the
Ioniser’s heat shield, the whole island would eventually
become uninhabitable, locked in the grip of a new Ice Age.
But the computer, as ever, had given timely warning of
trouble ahead. With ECCO to guide them, they could not fail
to hold their own.
      The flat voice suddenly changed in tone, rising a pitch
to a higher degree of quiet alarm. ‘Phase Two, amber alert.
Phase Two, amber alert. All unauthorised personnel to be located and
documented for departure.’
      Jan fought her way through the orderly turmoil of the
Grand Hall, and entered what had once been the library of
the Georgian mansion that now housed the Brittanicus Base
Unit. It was in this elegant room, its paintings and its leather-
bound books still preserved in their original twentieth-century
state, that the compact but delicate Ioniser was housed in
regal isolation, its power lines linked to the small but
immensely powerful reactor unit contained in the cellar
below. One glance at the machine was enough: all the tell-tale
needles were sinking rapidly through amber into the red
danger zones. Jan’s hands began to operate the relevant
controls, damping, adjusting, increasing; desperately trying to
achieve stability.
      Suddenly, the tension that gripped her was sharply
increased by the sound of a man’s voice at her shoulder. She
turned. Leader Clent’s face was dark with anger.
      ‘Why has this been allowed to happen?’ he snapped.
‘The whole power series is barely above danger level!’
      As if in response to his angry words, the needles
flickered upward and held, trembling on the verge of
breaking out of the amber zone. But Jan knew that the
improvement could only be temporary. The flaw was basic
and, as yet, its cause unknown.
       ‘Hold on Amber Two,’ rang out the distant warning
system. ‘Prepare to return to Phase One stand-by.’
       ‘That’s better, Miss Garrett.’ Clent’s anger was now in
check, and his eyes, although stern, held and calmed her. It
was his strength of personality that gave backbone to this unit,
many of whom had despaired of the success of a mission that
had seemed doomed from the start. She was young,
intelligent, well-trained; with Clent to guide her, she would
eventually come to terms with the promotion he had forced
upon her when the treacherous Penley...
       ‘There was a pulse stoppage,’ she blurted out, breaking
his train of thoughts.
       The nearly inaudible tone of the Ioniser was beginning
to falter—as though the machine was sick. Clent looked grim.
A pulse stoppage meant there was a danger of feed-back to
the reactor: the resulting explosion would wipe the Unit from
the face of the Earth. But what could be causing it?
       Jan’s face tightened. She was close to panic.
       ‘I’m doing all I can to boost the power impulse—’
       ‘It can’t be allowed to fall any lower!’ grated Clent,
studying the oscillator dials fiercely.
       ‘We still have time to evacuate,’ she muttered
desperately.
       ‘We will not evacuate!’ he insisted. ‘We’ve beaten its
ridiculous tantrums before.’
       As they watched, the needles began to sag ominously
close to the red sector again. Miss Garrett’s face grew pale
with alarm. ‘It’s falling back again!’
       ‘Hold it steady!’ ordered Clent. ‘You must!’
       ‘I can’t! It won’t respond!’
        Brushing Miss Garrett aside, Clent’s hands moved to the
controls to make the necessary adjustments.
        ‘Then we’ll switch the stabilising circuits to computer
control.’
        Jan watched helplessly as Clent fought to retain control
of the machine.
        ‘It’s still not holding...’ she whispered.
        Clent was not giving up that easily. ‘All circuits,
woman—all circuits! Don’t you understand?’
        He snapped home a sequence of switches. Miss Garrett
flashed a look of despair towards the dials showing the energy
flow from the reactor. The readings were jumping wildly. She
clutched Clent’s arm. ‘The feed-back...’
        ‘Not enough power for that...’ clipped the Leader. The
scale readings were slowing at last. Clent smiled triumphantly.
‘Still just outside the danger zone. We should be able to hold
it there...’
        He turned to Miss Garrett for agreement. She shook her
head without speaking. They both knew the bitter truth. In a
matter of days—hours even—the Ioniser would be in a state
of crisis again. But Leader Clent refused to admit defeat
        ‘Well at least it gives us time!’ he insisted irritably, then
moved to return to his personal office. He stopped, as if
remembering something, and turned back. ‘And while you’ve
got the chance, call in Arden—I want him back at Base
immediately!’

      A geological map of the island which had once been
called Britain covered one wall of the Grand Hall of
Brittanicus Base. The line of electronic pin-point markers
which divided the island horizontally in two seemed, at first
glance, to be motionless; but they were in fact moving very
slowly from north to south. Each pin-point of light
represented a seismic probe set into the face of the river of ice
that was threatening to engulf the island.
       Brittanicus Base, the last, hastily-organised outpost of
defence against the New Ice Age, was plotting the movement
of the glaciers which, minute by minute,threatened to engulf
it...
       But the sophisticated wall chart could not reveal the
bitter Polar conditions that existed outside the Base on the
Cotswold hills.
       Those hills and valleys which had remained free of the
ice were now unrecognisable beneath their thick mantle of
windswept snow. At its best the Ioniser defence could only
hold back the ice; any attempt to reduce the snowy wastes
would have meant disastrous flooding of the southern
lowlands.
       The weird landscape—a nightmare of snow and ice
which had been driven, part-melted, and had then refrozen
into bizarre grottoes and sculpted caverns—looked as bleak
and unwelcoming as the wildest reaches of the Antarctic. It
was impossible to imagine that this ice desert had once been
green fields and gently rolling hills. Even the Scavengers—
those grimly determined natives who had refused to emigrate
to the more temperate climate of the equator—had fled from
the hills and set up their shanty-town communes in the
lowlands bordering the south coast. Only occasional fanatics
determined to die amidst the snow rather than retreat, and
scientists dedicated to the last-ditch Ioniser programme, could
still be found on these snowswept ridges and escarpments.
And no one travelled alone. Who would willingly run the risk
of falling victim to wolves or polar bears?
       But there were always jobs to be done, and Arden—once
a keen archaeologist, and now the Base’s geologist—had a
particularly important one at present: that of replacing a
faulty seismic probe in the ice.
       The weather conditions—fine and clear—had favoured
the expedition so far. But now Arden was wondering, as he
glanced up towards the towering glacier face, where it would
be safe to insert the pencil-slim seismic probe. The first
attempt had resulted in a massive section of the ice face
fracturing and falling away. But it had revealed an ideal spot
for a probe: a smooth face in a relatively sheltered position,
and one which allowed easy access for the sled which carried
the equipment. Arden turned his goggled and hooded face
towards his two companions, Walters and Davis, and
beckoned them to him.
       ‘Walters,’ he shouted against the low whine of the wind,
‘drill here!’
       Walters, the armed member of the party, helped Davis,
the seismology technician, to bring his drilling gear to the site
indicated by Arden, who was already unwrapping and
checking the slim seismic probe. While Davis assembled his
pistol-shaped drill and connected it to the portable power
pack, Walters moved to Arden’s side. With a nod of his head,
Arden indicated the area he had chosen.
       ‘Clear away any loose ice, will you, Walters?’ he asked.
       ‘Sir,’ acknowledged the burly security sergeant, then
turned towards the ice face, and began to clear it in
preparation for the drilling. Suddenly, he turned round.
       ‘Mr Arden. sir. come quick!’
       Arden hurried forward. Walters was desperately
rubbing the already smooth surface of the ice with his heavy
glove.
      ‘I’ll swear there’s something inside the ice, sir. Look!’
      Arden’s passionate interest in archaeological ‘finds’ was
known to everyone at the Base, and he wondered whether
Walters was pulling his leg. He peered into the depths of the
ice—and blinked! Something was there—and it looked like a
man! Arden raised his snow goggles, and looked again, his
face alive with excitement.
      ‘What is it, sir?’ asked Davis, pressing forward.
      ‘It’s... human. No, I can’t be certain—’ Arden spoke
impatiently. ‘Bring me the power light, man. Quickly!’
      Davis hurriedly made the necessary connections, and
shone the beam deep into the ice. What they now saw, deeply
embedded and eerily green-tinted, left them dumbstruck: a
massive form, possibly eight feet in height. and clad in what
looked like armour—certainly its mighty head was shaped like
the helmet of an ancient warrior.
      Walters glanced eagerly at Arden. ‘Is it a find. sir?’
      ‘We’re going to find out! Davis—the heavy drill! We’ll
have to start by—’
      His plans were interrupted by a shrill signal from the
video-communicator strapped to his wrist. He snapped it
open impatiently. Atmospheric conditions were so bad that
sound and picture were incomprehensible. He squinted at it
for a moment—and then gave up.
      ‘Base can wait.’ he said impatiently. ‘This is more
important than some routine message...’
      ‘What’re we going to do then, sir?’ asked Walters.
      ‘Excavate,’ replied Arden. ‘This could be the find of the
century!’
      Keen though he was to share Arden’s excitement,
Walters was still a basically cautious man. ‘What about our
schedule, Mr Arden? We must stick to that.’
      ‘Must we? Just because Base computer says so?’
      Walters continued to look uncertain. ‘Leader Clent will
be furious, sir.’
      ‘Damn the computer’—Arden grinned boyishly—‘and
Leader Clent! For once let’s do something on our own
account. eh?’
      Walters grinned bark at him.
      ‘Can’t see what Base can do about it. sir. The way things
are, we can’t ask permission—and they can’t tell us not to. can
they?’
      ‘That’s what I like to hear, Walters!’ Arden slapped
Walters on the shoulder, and then moved towards Davis, who
was bringing the heavy drill to bear on the ice face. ‘Come on,
Davis, I’ll give you a line to work on—’
      The geologist quickly gouged a simple, coffin-shaped
outline of approximately the site and shape of the mighty
form within the glacier. He turned to Davis. The technician
was looking at him with an uncertain expression.
      ‘Don’t worry, Davis—’ Arden said firmly. ‘I’ll take the
responsibility before Leader Clent.’
      ‘It isn’t him I’m worried about, s answered Davis. He
glanced upwards at the massive ridge of snow towering above
them. ‘There’s going to be a lot of vibration, you see...’
      ‘We’ll keep an eye on that. Anyway, we have to take that
chance. Now hurry, man, hurry!’

      In the Grand Hall, the stand-by units were still on Phase
One alert. Leader Clent, in a typical move to establish order
and confidence, had called a snap inspection of the Control
Area. Accompanied by Miss Garrett, he strode calmly along
the line of technical operators and recited their functions.
      ‘Emergency evacuation phasing?... Yes. Ioniser stage
fault check? Good. Reactor safety sequence in operation?
Excellent.’ He turned to face Miss Garrett with a confident
smile that embraced all her staff. ‘First class, Miss Garrett.
You’re to be congratulated—and, of course, your technicians,
too.’
      He then moved across to the computer communications
deck, drawing Miss Garrett with him. As he drew alongside he
murmured a dry aside. ‘You’ll make a qualified First Class
Technical Organiser yet, Miss Garrett...’
      ‘Thank you.’ she replied with a tired smile, adding
firmly, ‘but we need Scientist Penley.’
      Clent didn’t alter his expression or even look in Jan’s
direction—but his voice took on an edge of cold steel.
      ‘That person is no longer a member of this Base...’ He
looked sharply at Jan, his eyes chilly and commanding. ‘I look
to you to ensure that the Ioniser works properly, because you
are loyal. Am I correct?’
      The look in his eyes dared her to disagree.
      ‘Yes, Leader Clent,’ she nodded. the moment of
uncertainty gone. ‘You are an example to us all.’
      Clent relaxed and, nodding his acknowledgement of
Jan’s polite submission, brought ECCO to life with a brisk tap
of his finger.
      ‘What is the latest report from the Intercontinental
Ioniser Programme HQ?’
      ECCO’s sleek head revolved to face its questioner, and
answered flatly: ‘All bases on phase interlock. America—glaciers
held. Australasia—glaciers held. South Africa—glaciers held.
USSR—some improvement claimed...’
      Clent pulled a face, and flicked a politely amused look at
Jan, who didn’t respond. ‘They would be better than the rest
of us,’ he muttered. His face changed as ECCO continued
coldly.
       ‘Brittanicus Base, Europe slipping out of phase. Glacial
advance imminent unless condition stabilised immediately—’
       Dent cut the voice short. His face tightened angrily.
‘Nonsense!’ he snapped. ‘We’re holding our own! Can’t they
read the seismic print-outs?’
       ‘It isn’t the seismograph programme that’s at fault,’ Jan
replied sharply. ‘It’s the Ioniser. We are still on Phase One
alert, remember!’
       ‘My dear Miss Garrett, that is being taken care of by the
computer.’
       Clent’s words were lost beneath the jagged urgency of
the computer public address system. Without waiting for the
message to end, Clent and Jan made straight for the Ioniser
Room.
       ‘Emergency, emergency—Phase Two, Amber Alert! Amber
Alert! Emergency, emergency!’
       Cleat reached the Ioniser controls first—Jan read the
disaster signs from a distance. Every monitor was flickering on
the verge of red—the next step, bar a miracle, would be total
breakdown. Clent switched the controls over to manual, and
began fighting to raise the power levels even fractionally from
danger. Jan stared in despair at the elegant machine.
       ‘We’ve failed,’ she whispered.
       ‘We will not fail!’ clipped out Leader Clent. ‘The glaciers
haven’t beaten us yet!’
       ‘What more can we do? Inside two hours, the Ioniser
will be useless! The whole European programme of glacier
containment will be in ruins!’
       ‘Not while I’m in command!’ Clent, eyes fixed on the
flickering needles, was adjusting the controls like a madman.
      ‘The glaciers will start to move again,’ she murmured
sadly, glancing towards the electronic map. ‘Five thousand
years of history gushed beneath a moving mountain of ice...’
      ‘Not yet, Miss Garrett. We’re not finished yet!’ Clent
exclaimed triumphantly.
      She glanced at the improved readings, and breathed a
sigh of relief. But how long would it last? Clent indicated that
she should take over the controls. In the near distance, the
computer warning chimed on.
      ‘Phase Two, amber alerts All unauthorised personnel prepare to
evacuate!’
      Clent punched a communication switch and spoke
firmly:
      ‘Personnel Control—advance that evacuation order. I
want all unnecessary people cleared from Base. Only the
emergency skeleton staff to remain. All senior grade scientists
to report to me in control. Effect immediately!’
      His determination had infected Jan, and she didn’t
hesitate to speak her mind.
      ‘Penley could handle this. We need experts like him—’
      ‘Don’t talk to me about experts and their crazy ideas!’
He paused, frowning. ‘Where’s Arden?’
      ‘He’s still at the ice face—completing the
instrumentation project...’
      ‘Hasn’t he been warned?’ demanded Clent in alarm. ‘I
gave you explicit instructions—’
      ‘I couldn’t get through. Conditions on the ice face made
video contact impossible.’
      ‘Miss Garrett,’ snapped Clent, ‘you have an unhappy
habit of giving up, haven’t you? I need Arden—here! Trained
men are vital to our survival!’
      The computer warning system had changed pitch, and
carried a new urgency. ‘Emergency, Phase Two evacuation. Key
personnel Only to remain. Red alert to follow!’
      Clent switched the communicator to UHF frequency.
‘Leader Clent to Scientist Arden. Come in, Arden! For
heaven’s sakes, man—answer l’
      The videoscreen that should have carried Arden’s image
was blank. Clent repeated his call—but quickly realised it was
hopeless. He moved quickly back to Miss Garrett’s side.
      ‘Hold it it hatever you do,’ Clent insisted harshly.
      ‘It’s slipping again. I can just about hold it by keeping it
on manual... but the time interval between pulse loss is
decreasing.’ She looked at Clent calmly, almost resigned. ‘It’s
not far from total disintegration...’
      ‘Hold on, Miss Garrett,’ commanded Clent quietly, ‘hold
on. And try everything you know!’
      It was the closest thing to a prayer that Clent could
manage.

      The battered blue box lay toppled on its side, half-
buried in a snowdrift. Seconds previously, the snow had been
disturbed only by the keen sifting of the wind; then, to the
accompaniment of a strange groaning rattle, the blue box had
slowly materialised from a vaguely transparent shadow into
solid blue reality. What would normally have been its door
was now its lid. The lid opened, and from the box popped the
head of what looked like a dazed jack-in-the-box. With its
puckish features, tousled hair and bright-as-button eyes, it
gazed at the snowy world outside in mild amazement. Soon it
was joined by two companion heads—that of a rugged-faced
lad and, at his shoulder, a pretty, doll-like girl.
       ‘Y’re no flying a boat, are ye, Doctor?’ The young Scot
smiled at the older man. His companion looked pained.
       ‘It was a blind landing, Jamie,’ he replied apologetically.
       ‘Aye, that’s for sure!’ exclaimed Jame, starting to
clamber out and offering a strong arm to the others. The girl
was obviously delighted by the sight of the untrampled snow.
       ‘There’s no harm done,’ she cried gaily. ‘And just look at
the snow...!’
       ‘Thank you, Victoria,’ said the Doctor with dignity. ‘It’s
good to know that someone still has faith in me.’
       ‘Snow again,’ groaned Jamie in mock-disgust. ‘Tibet was
bad enough. Y’ve not landed us farther down the same
mountain, have ye?’
       The Doctor, having closed the door of the police box,
and placed a somewhat battered, tall-crowned hat on his
head, looked thoughtfully around. He shook his head.
       ‘No, Jamie my lad—this isn’t a mountain,’ he mumbled,
grabbing at his hat as he ducked out of the way of the
snowball which had been thrown at him by Victoria. He began
to gaze at what looked like a wall of ice which reared up only a
foot away from the blue box. ‘It’s something altogether more
peculiar than that.’
       Intrigued by his voice, and puzzled by the curious at
which he was sweeping the snow from the ice face, the two
youngsters scrambled to join him. Victoria stared at the
smooth, dull grey substance that he had uncovered, then
looked at the Doctor with laughing, rounded eyes.
       ‘It looks like a great wall of ice,’ she exclaimed. ‘Perhaps
it’s the Palace of the Snow Queen!’
       ‘It’s not ice, Victoria,’ commented the Doctor, ‘it’s
plastic.’
      Jamie put his hand on the material, then nodded. ‘Aye,’
he agreed, ‘it’s no really cold. But it’s so smooth and curved,
can ye no see?’
      The Doctor took a pace or two backwards, nearly falling
as he did so. ‘It’s a dome,’ he declared. ‘Some sort of
protective dome...’
      ‘But it must be huge.’ Victoria wondered aloud. ‘I can’t
see a end to it, can you?’ She turned to the Doctor eagerly. ‘I
wonder what’s inside!’
      ‘There’s no door,’ observed Jamie with dour Scots
realism. No sooner had he spoken than the quiet hum of
electrically operated machinery reached their ears. The
youngsters, reacting quickly to the Doctor’s warning gesture,
huddled down behind a drift of snow. Now they could see
without being seen...
      A door in the plastic surface beneath the ice slid back,
and two ragged, unkempt figures stepped out. Having
glanced furtively to left and right, the smaller of the two
dropped several of the parcels he was carrying; his
companion, burlier, and with a wild shaggy beard that made
him look like a pirate, snapped at him irritably.
      ‘What’re you doing? Come on. man. hurry!’
      The smaller man hurriedly picked up what he’d
dropped, and stowed away his obviously precious prizes in a
number of the many pockets which seemed to he concealed
beneath his lavers of protective animal skin. He seemed much
calmer than his irritable comrade.
      ‘Don’t worry. That alarm wasn’t because of us.’ He
started off again, his ill-gotten goods tucked safely away in his
poacher’s pockets—then paused, and looked back
thoughtfully. ‘I wonder what’s wrong, though...’
       ‘That’s their problem.’ growled the bearded scavenger.
‘Come on, let’s get away from here!’
       For all his bulk, the big man moved through the snow as
swiftly as a hunter. The little poacher followed him
energetically but with less skill, floundering through the drifts
as though unused to legwork. Soon, both men were out of
sight. The Doctor and his companions emerged from behind
the snow drift and hurried eagerly towards the sliding door.
It fitted perfectly. and seemed to be without handles or
catches. It seemed impossible to open—until the Doctor
found a pressure control in the plastic moulding which
surrounded the entrance. He pressed it. With a gentle whine
of power, the door panel slid back. A small vestibule faced
them—with an identical door beyond. Jamie saw the opening
device there, strode forward, and pressed it—but it wouldn’t
budge. He turned back to the Doctor, and shrugged
helplessly.
       ‘It’s locked.’
       ‘For a very simple reason, Jamie.’ Seeing the
exasperation on Jamie’s face. the Doctor quickly supplied his
explanation. ‘It’s an airlock. It won’t open until we’ve closed
the outer door.’
       ‘But why?’ asked Victoria. ‘There’s nothing wrong with
the air outside, is there? We were able to breathe all right.’
       The Doctor smiled, and ushered Victoria into the
airlock before shutting out the world of snow. ‘If my guess is
right,’ he said, ‘I think we’re in for a pleasant surprise...’ He
pressed the button. The inner door slid hack to reveal a scene
that made even the Doctor wonder. There, under an
immense plastic dome that kept the Arctic weather conditions
at bay, stood a gracious and elegant Georgian country house
in a state of perfect preservation. Ahead of them, across a a
short stretch of lawn, a terrace and a side door opened into
the stable block. The Doctor’s eyes twinkled with appreciation.
‘Absolutely charming,’ he said, with a smile. ‘Shall we go in?’
                     2
          Two Minutes to Doomsday
      Clent stood before the electronic chart that dominated
the Grand Hall of the Base HQ. Beads of perspiration broke
out on his forehead as he watched the line that represented
the glacier flow minutely forward... With the Ioniser now
operating at less than half power, the ice could barely be held
in check. And if it failed completely, there would be nothing
to stop the glaciers’ advance to the Channel, and beyond.
What is more, his own career would be in ruins. ‘Leader
Clent!’
      Miss Garrett was hurrying towards him, her face alert
and, for once, pleased.
      ‘We’ve made contact with Scientist Arden!’ she
announced.
      Clent strode to the nearest video point, and Miss Garrett
channelled the call through to him. In spite of interference
and atmospherics, Arden’s goggled face was plainly visible.
      ‘Arden’—the Leader ordered firmly—‘you must return
to Base immediately!’
      ‘Sorry, Clent,’ replied the geologist, ‘but we haven’t
finished yet. Another hour, and then we’ll be back.’
      ‘Now!’ insisted Clent. ‘The Ioniser is close to
breakdown—you know what that means!’
      ‘Chilly weather ahead,’ joked the grinning face on the
interference-flecked videoscreen. ‘I wonder if Penley’s ears
are burning?’
      Stung into anger, Clent barked out his reply. ‘I’m giving
you an order, Arden. You’ll return now—and no arguments!’
      ‘I’ve got good reason to delay,’ replied Arden without
flinching. ‘A fantastic discovery in the ice—’
      ‘Your task was to replace a probe!’ Clent’s anger boiled
over. ‘You are not there to indulge in amateur archaeology!
Do you hear?’
      Arden was unimpressed. ‘Even when the discovery is a
man?’
      Jan, standing at Clent’s shoulder, could see he was
surprised, even impressed, but his reply was typically
crushing.
      ‘Congratulations—it makes a change from pottery
fragments! Now leave it and return—as ordered!’
      ‘As soon as I’ve got the body loaded on to the airsled,’
commented the grinning geologist. ‘I’m bringing it back with
me, Clent. These blasted glaciers owe me that much!’
      Clent fumed. He was helpless—and Arden knew it.
‘There will be a full disciplinary enquiry!’ he snapped.
      ‘Can’t hear you, old chap... too much interference see
you shortly.’
      The screen went blank.
      At the same moment, the computer warning system
went into Phase Three—Red Alert.

      The door from the stable courtyard led directly into a
passageway connecting the servants’ kitchens with the main
body of the house. There was no sign of life as yet—except the
distant repetition of the warning relay. Leading the way, the
Doctor paused at the heavy door. He placed his ear against it,
and listened intently. Victoria was gazing round, wondering
whether she was in a dream—the house so much resembled
the Victorian mansion that had once been her home!
       ‘It’s a lovely old house,’ she sighed. Jamie, like the
Doctor, was more concerned with the possible dangers ahead.
       ‘What’s that they’re saying, Doctor...?’ he queried. The
Doctor could only frown and shake his head. He opened the
door a fraction, so that the warning voice could be heard
more clearly.
       ‘Phase Three. Red alert. Evacuate. Evacuate. Transport
section leaders report to loading bays. Phase Three. Evacuate!’
       ‘There’s something wrong...’ the Doctor murmured.
       ‘It looks peaceful enough to me,’ commented Victoria.
       ‘Come on. Let’s see if we can find out.’ The Doctor
opened the door into the broad main corridor beyond. For a
brief moment, they stood alone in the deserted corridor: then,
as though summoned by a bugle call, a small group of grimly
determined men erupted from a corner passageway and
charged straight at the Doctor and his young friends. With no
possible chance to run or hide, they stood resigned to being
captured—the Doctor even going so far as to raise his arms
above his head in surrender.
       To their astonishment, the task force ran straight past
them, down the corridor, and disappeared out of sight.
Almost disappointed, the Doctor called after them half-
heartedly, ‘I say, could you tell me the way to...’ His voice
trailed off, and meeting the puzzled faces of his young
companions, he shrugged. ‘It’s, all very strange...’
       Another man ran up from the opposite direction, but,
like the previous party, his face looked determined and set.
The Doctor smiled and tried to catch the runner’s eye. He
stretched out his hand. ‘Excuse me, old chap—’
       The only response was a shove in the chest as the
runner dashed past, that sent the Doctor staggering into
Jamie’s arms. Victoria could only stand and giggle as the
Doctor, a look of bewilderment on his face, set his hat straight.
      ‘They don’t seem to think much of you, Doctor...’
      ‘I can’t understand it,’ muttered the Doctor. An
attractive girl now walked up to them and, without uttering a
word, briskly attached numbered plastic tags to their lapels.
She had finished the job and moved on before Jamie had
recovered sufficiently from his surprise to call out to her—but
she paid no attention.
      The Doctor smiled. ‘She doesn’t want to know, Jamie...’
      Victoria had twisted her tag so that she could read it.
      ‘It says we’re on Evacuation Flight Seven!’
      ‘Not very hospitable, is it,’ commented the Doctor.
‘We’ve only just arrived.’
      ‘Hey, and have ye seen this!’ Jamie showed them the
reverse side of his tag. ‘It says we’re scavengers! I’ll not have
that—I’m no beggar!’
      Victoria couldn’t help laughing at the insult to his Scots
dignity, but the Doctor had moved to a nearby doorway and
was listening intently to a faint sound coming from within.
      ‘Shush a minute, Jamie lad,’ said the Doctor.
      At that moment, the relayed warning call drowned the
sound from beyond the door as it repeated its ominous
broadcast.
      ‘Phase Three, red alert. Evacuate immediately. Flights One to
Five now on departure circuit. Flights Six and Seven, stand by. Phase
Three, red alert...’
      When the warning had ceased. the Doctor beckoned
Jain and Victoria back to the door. They could hear vague
humming—but nothing they could identify.
      ‘What is it, Doctor?’ asked Victoria, intrigued.
      The Doctor looked thoughtful, and not a little worried.
‘I’d say its electronic machinery of some kind—perhaps a
computer—but there’s something badly wrong with its
pitch...’
      ‘It’s no ours—let’s leave it’, suggested Jamie. He knew
all too well from past experience where the Doctor’s curiosity
could lead them—usually into trouble. Victoria agreed.
      ‘It could be dangerous,’ she pointed out.
      But the Doctor had already made up his mind, and
quietly opened the door. ‘Stay out here if you like,’ he
murmured. ‘but I’m going in.’
      In the Ioniser Room, the tension was electric. Jan
Garrett was standing poised over the main control deck; Clent
strode nervously from monitor to monitor, noting the figures
presented by each. At the door leading into the Grand Hall,
stood two security guards, their backs to the library interior.
Because of this, the Doctor—followed reluctantly by Jamie
and Victoria—was able to enter unnoticed. While they paused
to take in the bizarre contrast of the ultra-modern electronic
gadgetry and the antique library setting, the Doctor moved
stealthily behind Clent, and began to jot down the monitor
readings on his shirt cuff. His face grew more and more
disturbed.
      ‘Still our of phase...’ muttered Clent, unaware of the
bizarre onlooker at his shoulder. ‘Seven two point four..
      ‘Seven two point four?’ repeated the Doctor to himself.
‘That’s bad...’
      ‘We must balance those readings, Miss Garrett!’ declared
the Leader. ‘Seventeen degrees off the norm!’
      Jan heard, but could do little; her eyes remained glued
to the control panel.
      Clent paused anxiously before the final monitor screen;
he mopped his brow with his handkerchief and whispered the
desperate figures to himself.
      ‘One three seven nine already... If it reaches fifteen
hundred...’ He took a deep breath. How long could they last?
      ‘One three seven nine!’ echoed the Doctor, his face
expressing equal alarm. Unable to keep quiet any longer, he
tapped Clent on the shoulder. Jamie and Victoria held their
breath. What was he doing?
      ‘Excuse me,’ said the Doctor politely, ‘but I’m afraid
you’re in serious trouble here, old chap...’ Clent turned on
the Doctor. The sight of the oddly dressed, obviously non-
scientific intruder brought a flush of justifiable anger to his
face.
      ‘Who the blazes are you?’ he demanded. Without
waiting for a reply, he shouted an order to the security
guards. ‘Get these scavengers out of here—quickly!’
      ‘I’m trying to help!’ protested the Doctor as he and his
young friends were expertly bundled towards the corridor.
      ‘Get them on to the next available flight out of here!’
shouted Clent. He turned back to the control panel
dismissively.
      ‘In two minutes thirty eight seconds,’ cried the Doctor,
as he was pushed out of the door, ‘that Ioniser is going to
explode. The readings say so. Why don’t you do something
about it?’ The effect on Garrett and the guards was startling;
even Clent froze in shocked alarm.
      ‘You can’t possibly know that!’ he snapped. ‘I haven’t
even processed the figures through the computer yet!’
      ‘My dear chap, I don’t need a computer!’ replied the
Doctor.
       For once, Clent paused, unsure of himself. Garrett flung
a look of grim desperation at her leader. ‘If he’s right, it’s
already too late to escape,’ she stated icily. The security men,
uncertain what to do, made no attempt to check the Doctor as
he slipped quickly back into the room.
       ‘It doesn’t have to happen. If you’ll just allow me...’ he
said brightly, his hands already hovering over the controls.
       ‘Don’t!’ shouted Clent. But his cry came too late. The
Doctor had gone into immediate action—and as though
mesmerised by the stranger’s personality, Miss Garrett was
actually helping him!
       ‘Uncouple the stabilising circuits and the reactor link for
a start,’ the Doctor directed, his eyes taking in the monitor
readings. Jan obeyed automatically.
       ‘Raise the density phasing to par... quick as you can!’
       Miss Garrett frowned. ‘There isn’t enough power—’
       ‘Then we’d better produce some, hadn’t we? A short
burst from the reactor link—now!’
       Without arguing, Jan switched on a heavy duty
connector; there was an immediate hum of power.
       ‘Now off!’ commanded the Doctor. Then, without
waiting for her to complete the action. he snapped home a
series of switches. ‘Tie in each of the circuits to the reactor
link... now bring in the computer stabiliser...’ He paused, then
smiled to himself, obviously pleased. ‘That should hold it, I
think...’
       He turned. Clent and Miss Garrett were looking at him
in sheer amazement. That a ragged clown could perform such
a miracle! Remembering his earlier brusqueness, the Doctor
began to apologise.
       ‘Not a perfect job, mind you...’ he murmured genially.
‘You ought to get an expert in really...’
      Clent, remembering his position as Leader of the Base,
snapped out of his reverie and tried to reassert his authority.
      ‘It was all bluff, wasn’t it—that business about two
minutes thirty-eight seconds to destruction?’
      The Doctor looked modestly pained, but spoke quietly.
      ‘Not in the least. It was near enough correct—give or
take a second or two.’
      ‘Rubbish!’ snapped Clent, irritated by the thought that a
human being could be the equal of his beloved computer.
      The Doctor looked offended and angry.
      ‘Check it on your precious computer then—go on!’
      Clent stared at hint, then smiled arrogantly.
      ‘Miss Garrett,’ he ordered, ‘process those figures,
please.’
      Jan activated ECCO and read out the relevant figures,
while Clent hovered over her, smiling smugly.
      ‘Ioniser fall rate—seven two point four... Ion
compensator—minus seventeen degrees... Ion flow rate—one
three seven nine. Assessment, please.’
      The computer’s reply was virtually immediate. As it
spoke, the smirk was wiped from Clent’s face, and he stared at
the Doctor with something akin to respect.
      ‘Immediate emergency!’ announced the computer. ‘In two
minutes thirty-seven seconds, the reactor will suffer feed-back and
explode! Action must be taken—’
      Miss Garrett ended its panic, and looked towards Clent.
It was a long time since she had seen him accept another
scientist as his equal. Would he reject this one, as he had
rejected Penley and so many others before him?
      ‘I apologise for the odd second,’ muttered the Doctor
modestly. ‘But we can’t all be perfect, can we...’
      ‘Leader Clent,’ interjected Jan, barely restraining her
excitement, ‘it’s steady on half power now. We can hold our
own!’
      Its oscillators steady, the machine’s operating purr was
soft as silk—the healthiest it had been for weeks. This stranger
certainly knew what he was up to... Clent frowned.
      ‘Even Penley couldn’t have done better,’ he admitted.
‘But where on earth have you sprung from?’
      The Doctor threw a sharp look back at Jamie and
Victoria, and raised his eyebrows. Then he turned bark to
Clent, smiled and shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t want to
have to enter into a full explanation—and fortunately Clent
was in no mood for it. In spite of being desperately tired, he
was elated. Perhaps they could still win! He clapped the
Doctor on the shoulder, and then read the details on his
plastic tag. His mind was made up.
      ‘Flight Seven, eh?’ he repeated. ‘There won’t be any
need for that. Come with me to the laboratory—I think
there’s something we need to discuss...’

      At last the great block of ice stood free from the glacier
face! Arden gazed in excitement; even Walters and Davis were
impressed. And within it: the massive figure of an armoured
man, which looked like a monument to some ancient king...
      ‘Amazing...’ whispered Walters.
      ‘A giant among prehistoric men,’ agreed Arden, his
mind racing. This discovery must go back at least three
thousand years!
      ‘Is it a sort of armour he’s got on, sir?’ asked Davis.
‘Yes,’ replied Arden. ‘And that’s the most exciting thing about
it. You see, he looks pre Viking... but no such civilisation
existed in the prehistoric period before the first Ice Age.’
      ‘Proper sort of ice warrior, I’d call him,’ suggested
Walters, smiling.
      ‘A good description, Walters,’ Arden agreed. ‘Even from
here you can see how cruel and terrifying he must have
been...’
      He recalled the old legends of the Viking raiders: brutal,
bloodthirsty killers, whose only ambition had been conquest.
      ‘I reckon even Leader Clent’Il want to take a second
look, don’t you, sir?’ asked Walters.
      ‘I should hope so. And what do you think that blessed
computer will make of it, eh?’
      Davis had finished packing away his drilling equipment.
      ‘We’d better be getting back, sir,’ he said, looking up at
the sky, ‘while the weather holds...’
      Arden nodded in agreement. Time for celebration when
they’d got the Ice Warrior back to Base. What Clent would
say was anybody’s guess—but he couldn’t deny that it was a
find of great importance.
      ‘Bring the airsled as close as possible,’ Arden ordered,
‘and we’ll get him loaded up.’
      The three men, now fully absorbed in their difficult task,
were totally unaware of being observed. Less than a hundred
yards away, hidden by a wind-scoured outcrop of ice, the
pirate and the poacher crouched and watched intently.
      ‘What’re they up to, Penley?’ asked the big man
suspiciously. He smelt potential danger in anything that
Clent’s scientists got up to—and he didn’t like the look of this
particular bunch one little bit...
      ‘I don’t know, Storr old son,’ cheerfully replied Penley,
shrewder and more thoughtful. ‘Arden must’ve found
something buried in the ice, something to take home to
Clent.’ He smiled knowingly. ‘It won’t be appreciated
though...’
       Storr glowered, his wild beard making his fierce gaze
look even more ferocious. ‘Why don’t they leave well alone?’
       Penley knew all about Storr’s hatred of technology. He
tried to explain what he knew would be in Arden’s mind—a
quality he’d once admired when they’d been working
colleagues.
       ‘Arden was always a searcher. He was an archaeologist
once.’
       ‘Archaeology!’ sneered the burly hunter. ‘What good’s
that?’
       ‘It’s good to know things, Starr—even if they’re dead.’
       ‘Nothing’s sacred to you blasted scientists, is it?’
       ‘It’s in my character to ask questions, I suppose. Sorry.’
       ‘You swore you’d give all that up! Changed your mind,
have you?’
       Penley turned to Storr, his dirty face full of patience—
and determination. ‘Look, old son, discovery is as exciting and
purposeful to me as hunting game is to you.’ He could see
that Storr wasn’t convinced, and continued sarcastically,
‘We’re not all like Clent, you know. He’s the kind that uses
scientist’s skulls as stepping stones to the top jobs...’
       Story smiled at this manifestation of Penley’s bitterness
and then changed the subject.
       ‘Come on, we’ve got to move. Let’s leave them to their
stupid games!’
       He turned away from the sight of the scientific party
loading their airsled, and moved skilfully across the snow,
followed by Penley. Coming to a small crevasse, he paused.
Beyond it was a glacier overhang that would give them all the
cover they’d need. But to get there would mean a leap across
the open fissure that would bring them into full view of the
scientists. Story motioned Penley to wait, and watched for the
moment when the distant trio, who were still working on the
upper glacier face, were turned away from them. Suddenly he
saw that something had distracted them. Pushing Penley
ahead, he prepared to spring across the gap...
       It was Davis who first heard the ominous rumble. He
looked up, and saw a tell-tale spume of blinding snow was
almost on top of him! Of the three, his position on top of the
ridge of ice was the most vulnerable. He screamed a desperate
warning to the other two below, then dived for cover.
       ‘Avalanche!’
       Arden simultaneously heard the cry and the terrifying
roar of approaching snow and ice. He instinctively looked
upwards to locate Davis—but he was hurled to the ground
and dragged into the shelter of the airsled by Walters before
he could catch his breath to reply.
       The avalanche, sweeping diagonally across the ice face,
caught up Davis and continued towards that same crevasse
that Storr and Penley were on the point of crossing.
       Storr thrust Penley violently forward into the protection
of the overhang, and tried to hurl himself forward after him.
Penley watched in horror, as the ice and snow, raging over
and past him, caught Storr’s arm and shoulder, and snatched
him into the drifts farther down the slope.
       Suddenly the avalanche had passed; all was still once
more. Half afraid of what he would find, Penley staggered out
from safety to look for Story—but it was Davis he reached
first. The angle of the technician’s neck told him there was no
hope there. Hearing a growl of pain to the left, Penley
scrambled through the churned-up snow and found Storr
struggling to dig himself free. His left arm hung ominously
limp and twisted.
       ‘Storr!’ gasped Penley. ‘Are you all right?’
       ‘My damned arm...’ groaned the hunter. ‘It’s broken.’
       Penley strapped the shattered arm as tight as he could
against Storr’s body.
       ‘You’re lucky,’ he gasped. ‘There’s one over there who’ll
be staying on the mountain for good.’
       Storr shook Penley off, and lurched to his feet. ‘Come
on,’ he gritted through the haze of pain, ‘they’ll be here any
minute, looking for him. Let’s get away from here!’
       Penley hesitated, wondering whether Story was capable
of the effort. Storr glowered back at him, sneering bitterly.
       ‘Unless you fancy turning me over to your friends?’
       Penley met his gaze squarely and replied without
hesitation. ‘Six months ago, they were my friends—but not
now.’ Uncertain how to best help his surly companion, he
stepped back and frowned. ‘Can you walk...?’
       ‘Just make sure you keep up!’ grunted Storr, and strode
off, calling back over his shoulder, ‘Come onl’
       With a last sad glance at the dead man in the snow,
Penley hurried after Storr beneath the ominous shadow of the
glacier.
       Walters had struggled to his feet, and was now helping
Arden up. There was no sign of Davis.
       ‘I’ll go and look for him, sir,’ Walters said curtly, to
Arden unspoken question. He wasn’t going to waste his
breath offering unnecessary hope. Arden watched him go.
sensing his despair. If Davis was lost, Clent would tolerate no
excuses—least of all an archaeological find. While he busied
himself completing the job of lashing the block of ice to the
airsled, Arden’s mind raged with self-doubt: if they had
ignored the Ice Warrior; if they hadn’t used the heavy drill; if
they’d left when Davis had indicated... Would he have still
been with them? Arden wasn’t a superstitious man, but he
paused and stared into the ice block at the ominous, helmeted
figure, and wondered...
      Abruptly, he dismissed from his mind the ridiculous
thought that there might have been some ancient curse
attached to disturbing this ice-bound giant from his deathly
sleep. But when he heard Walters’ dejected call, and saw him
point miserably at the snow some two hundred yards away,
the chilling thought needled his mind again. Had the Ice
Warrior claimed his first victim?

      The laboratory had been established in the part of the
house that had once been called the gun room. It was, in fact,
a complex series of small rooms, each of which served a
purpose related to the laboratory central unit: storerooms for
expedition equipment, weapons, geological analysis; and a
medicare centre that had proved invaluable to the mental and
physical well-being of the Base scientists.
      The tensions created by the importance of their mission,
and the conflict of personalities under continuous pressure of
work, had brought several of the staff near to breaking point.
Only Clent had seemed impervious to strain so far.
      But now he willingly relaxed in the vibro-chair. Its effect
was to relax the mind and tone up the body cells. The
expression on Clent’s face also showed that it was extremely
enjoyable into the bargain. Even so, although reclining and at
ease, he lost none of his authority as Leader. If anything, the
quiet hum of the electronic chair seemed to give an added
keenness to the questions he threw at the Doctor who, like
Jamie and Victoria, was immensely intrigued by the compact
technology of the medicare unit.
      ‘You call yourself “Doctor”,’ continued Clent, ‘yet you
have no proof of your qualifications. Why’s that?’
      ‘Aren’t we wasting time?’ replied the Doctor evasively. ‘If
you really want my help, hadn’t you better explain the whole
situation?’
      ‘Explain the situation?’ Clent raised his eyebrows in
surprise and glanced towards Miss Garrett, who echoed his
reaction. ‘My dear man, where have you been all these years?’
      The Doctor threw a quick look at Jamie and Victoria
before replying with a nervous smile. ‘As a matter of fact,
we’ve been on a sort of... retreat—in Tibet.’
      Victoria had to turn away slightly to hide the smile that
threatened to flood her face.
      ‘Oh... really?’ replied Clent. ‘Tibet... of course.’ He
looked towards Miss Garrett for her opinion—but she was
gazing silently at the floor.
      ‘Well,’ continued talent. ‘as for the general situation,
Miss Garrett can give you all the details later. Before we get to
that stage, I want you to take a simple test.’
      ‘I’m not much of a one for examinations,’ observed the
Doctor drily.
      ‘This is a verbal exercise in deductive logic. It’ll tell me
whether you’re up to the standard I require. I don’t tolerate
charlatans, you know.’
      ‘And if I don’t come up to scratch?’ enquired the Doctor.
      ‘You’ll be evacuated with the other scavengers.’ ‘Where
to?’ asked Jamie bluntly.
      ‘To one of the African Rehabilitation Centres, of course,’
replied Miss Garrett with cold formality. ‘Oh, no!’ objected
Victoria. ‘Not Africa!’
      The Doctor shared her alarm. It wasn’t the country that
was objectionable, so much as the fact that their only means of
escape from this particular time zone lay outside the Base—
half-buried in a snowdrift! To be transported to Africa would
mean being parted from the TARDIS—and probably for
good.
      ‘Let’s hear this problem then,’ the Doctor demanded
quietly.
      ‘Very well,’ said Clent. ‘All the major continents are
threatened by destruction beneath the glaciers of the New Ice
Age. How would you halt the ice surge and return the climate
to normal, using the equipment you’ve already seen?’
      The Doctor frowned and puffed his checks at the
enormity of the question. Both Jamie and Victoria stared at
him anxiously. Smiling blandly, Clent sat up in the vibro-chair
and reached out a hand to the chronometer by his side.
      ‘You have just ninety seconds,’ he murmured, ‘from
now!’
      Victoria and Jamie could only stare at the Doctor’s
fiercely concentrating face, as he fired out questions and
comments that left them completely baffled. Clent, relaxed,
had closed his eyes; Miss Garrett studied the Doctor with
sharp interest, noting with approval the scope and alertness of
his mental responses. This man was certainly no charlatan!
      ‘Possible causes then,’ rapped out the Doctor keenly. ‘A
reversal of the earth’s magnetic poles?’
      ‘No such change has occurred,’ replied Clent, without
opening his eyes. The smile had vanished. Only a trained
scientist could have asked such a question. ‘Interstellar clouds
obscuring the sun’s rays?’
      Clent shook his head.
      Negative again. But the Doctor hadn’t finished.
       ‘A severe shift in the earth’s axis of rotation?’
       Once more, Clent indicated that the suggestion was
wrong. The Doctor looked thoughtful; he’d been given a
problem without clues—the most difficult sort. And time was
slipping away...
       ‘Come on, Doctor!’ urged Victoria. ‘Think!’
       The Doctor looked at the recumbent Clent, and a slow,
wicked smile spread over his puckish features.
       ‘Ah! A gigantic heat loss—is that it?’
       The Leader’s face gave nothing away. He glanced briefly
at the chronometer, then again closed his eyes before replying
to the question.
       ‘I require an answer—not a question. You have rather
less than thirty seconds left, Doctor.’
       Clent’s carefully concealed reaction wasn’t lost on the
Doctor. He grinned inwardly—two could play at that game!
       ‘In that case, it’s perfectly simple...’ he said airily, then
paused, apparently lost in an attempt to read his plastic
evacuation tag upside down. By the time the chronometer’s
flicking hand had reached five seconds to zero, not only the
youngsters and Miss Garrett were on tenterhooks. but Clent
himself was sitting up in the vibro-chair and gripping its arms
in expectation.
       ‘Well?’ he demanded. ‘Hurry, man—speak up!’ The
Doctor looked up at Clent with mild surprise—as though he’d
forgotten the Leader was there. ‘Ionisation.’ he said precisely,
as the clockhand reached zero.
       ‘Is he right?’ asked Jamie anxiously.
       ‘Yes,’ admitted Clent warily, ‘he is.’
       ‘But... ionisation?’ interrupted Victoria. ‘What does it
mean? I don’t understand.’
      ‘Its to do with the carbon dioxide content of the earth’s
atmosphere, Victoria,’ explained the Doctor. ‘It’s only a
fractional proportion, but it helps to retain the heat of the
sun, after it’s filtered through to the planet’s surface:
      ‘Like a sort of invisible blanket, you mean?’ Victoria was
trying hard to understand.
      ‘Something like that, yes,’ beamed the Doctor. ‘Now—if
you take the gas away, or even unbalance its mixture too
much, the sun’s reflected heat is rapidly dispersed, our planet
cools down too quickly and we’re left with the sort of freeze-
up these people have now. Is that clear?’
      Victoria nodded brightly. But Jamie was still puzzled.
      ‘But where did all this carbon dioxide gas go to?’ he
asked. It was Clent who answered—almost apologetically.
      ‘Our civilisation is supremely efficient, my boy—thanks
to the guidance we receive from the Inter-continental
Computer Complex. With its help, we conquered the problem
of world famine many years ago, using artificial foods, and
protein recycling. Un-fortunately, the recycling process got
rather out of hand...’
      ‘I suppose you started artificial recycling of waste gases
to produce more oxygen,’ remarked the Doctor, frowning.
      ‘That,’ agreed Clent, ‘plus a massive increase in
intensive depollution processes.’ He looked defensively at the
Doctor. ‘A minor error in atmospheric prediction...’
      ‘But one which produced a nasty imbalance in the
protective layers of the earth’s atmosphere,’ added the Doctor
soberly.
      ‘Suddenly, one year...’ Clent paused, still remembering
the terrible event, ‘... there was no Spring.’ No one spoke for a
moment. Then Clent continued breezily.
      ‘The danger wasn’t understood at first—not until the
polar ice caps started to advance.’ He smiled confidently. ‘But
we soon came up with the answer to that!’
      ‘This blessed Ioniser, do you mean?’ questioned Jamie.
      ‘Precisely,’ beamed Clent. But Jamie wasn’t to be put off
so easily.
      ‘Precisely what, though?’ he asked shrewdly. ‘What does
it do exactly?’
      Miss Garrett cut in with an explanation. ‘Ionisation is a
method of intensifying the sun’s heat on to the earth—but
only on selected areas.’
      ‘Try thinking of it as a sort of burning glass, Jamie,’
added the Doctor. Jamie’s face immediately brightened. ‘Och,
now I understand!’ he cried, ‘Like ye can burn paper and
make fire?’
      ‘So you can actually melt the glaciers and change the
weather?’ Victoria asked Clent, wide-eyed. ‘When certain
difficulties are overcome,’ he said. ‘It’s a highly complex
system,’ stated Miss Garrett. ‘The focusing process is very
delicate, and there aren’t enough specialists who understand
its manipulation.’
      ‘Can’t afford to make mistakes, can you?’ observed the
Doctor. ‘Might cause some nasty floods if all that ice melted
too quickly.’
      ‘There’s the opposite problem, too,’ admitted Clent.
‘The ionisation process can produce temperatures intense
enough to melt rock.’
      ‘But your computer can’t quite manage to strike the
happy medium,’ reasoned the Doctor—‘at least, not without
the assistance of one of those specialists you’re so short of...’
      ‘One of my scientists—a chap called Penley—had some
sort of a breakdown, and went missing.’ Clent paused; he
didn’t like asking favours. ‘I’d like you to take his place. It’s a
worthwhile mission. Will you join us?’
      The Doctor caught the resigned look that passed
between Jamie and Victoria—they knew what his decision
would be.
      ‘I’m willing to try,’ he said modestly.
      Good!’ exclaimed Clent, smiling broadly. ‘Er... you have
worked with computers, I presume?’
      ‘No more than necessary,’ muttered the Doctor.
      ‘Miss Garrett is our technical expert,’ CIent beamed.
‘She’ll help you.’
      Miss Garrett was proud of her computer training, and
intended the Doctor to know it. ‘Our computers check every
decision to eliminate the risk of failure,’ she declared. ‘Our
standards are of the highest—’
      ‘So I’ve noticed,’ remarked the Doctor with a wry smile.
      ‘Who sets these standards, though?’ demanded Victoria,
who had a distinct aversion to bossy machines. Miss Garrett
looked at the pretty teenager over her glasses.
      ‘World Computer Control, of course,’ she snapped.
      ‘Another machine?’ queried Jamie, amazed. ‘In charge
of what everybody does? Och, that’s ridiculous!’
      ‘The machine,’ snapped Miss Garrett, ‘is rational,
coherent, and infallible!’
      ‘But not very human,’ suggested the Doctor. He turned
to face Clent. ‘Is that why Penley defected?’
      ‘The pressure of work here has driven some men into...
weakness.’
      ‘But not you.’
      Clent faced the Doctor squarely, and replied with a
tense dignity.
       ‘I have a job to do... and I do not intend to fail. My duty
is to make the Ionisation programme succeed—and save five
thousand years of European civilisation! I must not fail!’
       In the pause that followed, only the Doctor saw the
desperate plea in Clent’s eyes. It was impossible to ignore his
silent appeal for help.
       ‘I respect that, Leader Clent,’ conceded the Doctor.
‘Now tell us how we can help.’
       Before Clent could say what was in his mind, the double
doors of the laboratory swung open, and Arden walked in. At
first, Clent didn’t see Walters and the other technicians
wheeling the trolley behind the defiant scientist. He swung
himself from the vibrochair in a blaze of anger.
       ‘Arden! Is this what you call co-operation?’ Clent strode
forward fiercely. ‘How are we expected to carry out this
project when idiots like you—’ The Leader stopped abruptly,
in full flow. Arden had stepped aside, and for the first time
Clent caught sight of the prize he had brought back from the
glacier. No one spoke. They were all gazing speechless at the
mighty form contained within the great chunk of ice. That
one moment alone was triumph enough for Arden.
       ‘I thought you might be interested. Clent.’ declared the
geologist perkily. He turned to his helpers, and pointed to a
corner of the room. ‘Wheel him over there.’
       The others followed, hardly able to take their eyes from
Arden’s discovery. As yet, the ice had barely started to melt.
       ‘Doctor,’ whispered Victoria, ‘what is it?’
       Jamie’s eyes shone with admiration. ‘It’s a great warrior!
Do ye no see his war helmet?’
       The Doctor inspected the warrior thoughtfully. ‘Frozen
for centuries and perfectly preserved,’ he said, then added,
‘odd, though...’
      Arden had succeeded in silencing Clent, but hadn’t yet
summoned up the courage to tell him of Davis’s death. He
now turned on the Doctor suspiciously. ‘Who are you?’
      Clent stepped in with an explanation. ‘An addition to
our staff, Arden. I’ll explain at the meeting.’ He turned to the
Doctor, intrigued by his snap criticism. ‘What exactly is it that
you find odd?’
      ‘The armour, it’s all wrong. When this man was frozen
to death, only primitive cavemen existed...’ Arden lunged
forward and confronted the Doctor defiantly.
      ‘Well I say it’s an undiscovered civilisation! Think of the
implications!’
      Clent needed time to think, and a full scale discussion of
Arden’s find was the last thing he wanted at the moment. The
geologist would have to be reprimanded—yet what he had
found was obviously of sufficient importance to interest world
authorities. But everything depended on the success of the
Ioniser mission. First things first, then.
      ‘Arden, whatever the implications, this find of yours
must take second place to our project,’ declared Clent. He
watched as the young geologist connected the output leads of
a portable power pack to electrode points on the horizontal
block of ice ‘You can give me a full appraisal of your theories
after the meeting,’ he consulted his watch, ‘which will
commence in three minutes fifteen seconds exactly.’
      Without seeming to hurry unduly, Arden had
completed his power connections and was ready to go.
      ‘Miss Garrett, perhaps you’d lead the way?’ continued
Clent. ‘Come along, Arden. You can play with your toy later.
You’ll be needed at the meeting too, Doctor.’
      With that. he and his colleagues passed through the
swing doors towards the conference room.
      The Doctor may have heard Clent’s last words—if so, he
showed no inclination to obey them. Instead, alone with Jamie
and Victoria, he stood hunched over the ice-encased giant,
studying it intently. Jamie pointed to the wiring and the black
power pack that Arden had attached to the ice.
      ‘What’s all this about, Doctor?’
      ‘It’s a portable power pack, Jamie,’ the Doctor
explained. ‘Arden has set the current so that it will melt the
ice very slowly.’
      ‘But it’s working quite quickly—look!’ cried Victoria.
      Jamie and the Doctor looked to where her finger was
pointing, and saw that a large flake of ice had fallen away
from the side of the warrior’s helmet. He didn’t, however,
hear the faint but ominous humming which seemed to come
from the power pack. The Doctor didn’t notice. The Doctor
bent close to the helmet, examining it through the cloak of
thin ice with an expression of intense astonishment.
      ‘But that’s... incredible!’ he blurted out.
      ‘What is, Doctor?’ asked Jamie in amazement. wasn’t
often something set the Doctor back on his heels!
      ‘Jamie...’ murmured the Doctor wonderingly, ‘that’s an
electronic earpiece—there, on the helmet! Almost identical to
the ones used on modern space helmets!’
      Both the youngsters looked at him uncomprehendingly.
      ‘But Doctor... it can’t be,’ said Victoria finally.
      The Doctor raised his head abruptly. His voice was keen
with excitement, and possibly something more... ‘Don’t you
realise what this means?’
      He looked into their young faces, and saw that they did
not understand. Reaching a quick decision, he hurried
towards the door.
       ‘Wait here,’ he shouted back over his shoulder, ‘and
don’t touch anything!’
       Jamie and Victoria were getting used to his sudden
exits, and exchanged a gentle chuckle.
       ‘I wonder what sent him off like that?’ asked Jamie.
       ‘Scientists are all the same,’ replied Victoria. ‘They’re
forever shouting Eureka, or something. Hey! What are you
doing? Don’t be a spoilsport!’
       Half playfully, she struggled to prise Jamie out of the
vibro-chair—not because the Doctor had told them not to
touch it, but because she dearly wanted to have a go in it
herself. ‘Me first!’ she shouted, then gasped as she felt the
machine tingle into life, switched on by Jamie’s eager hand, as
he relaxed in the chair.
       Neither of them noticed that more ice had fallen away
from the warrior’s helmet. The power pack’s electrodes were
now touching bare metal. Their excited laughter hid the hum
which was coming from the prostrate form, and which seemed
to be ever increasing in volume.
       They didn’t see the eye-pieces of the cruel helmet
flicker, nor the reflex twitch of the great, gauntleted hand.
       Slowly but surely, the Ice Warrior was coming to life...
                     3
        Creature from the Red Planet
       The Doctor had been summoned to Clent’s meeting—
but he hadn’t been told how to get there. Flustered and
irritated, his brain almost bursting with the news of the
terrible discovery, the Doctor turned a corner and found
himself in the main reception hall. He paused, and took a
deep breath. This sort of building must be like others of its
period. If he could just mentally picture the architectural
plans: music room ahead... next to that the ballroom or great
hall... to the rear of the house, leading from the great hall...
the library or study. The Doctor opened his eyes, his mind
alert. The library—that was it!
       The memory of the Ioniser control room, lined with
elegant bookcases and splendid antique paintings. echoed in
his mind—as did the half-remembered glimpse he had had
into the vast room beyond. filled with its banks of computers
and monitoring equipment. That’d be the place! Quickly, he
orientated himself in line with the room plan he had formed
in his head and then set off once again, grimly determined.
       His latest discovery about the Ice Warrior was vitally
important Clent and the others must be told —and quickly!

      In the laboratory, Jamie had at last given Victoria a turn
in the sibro-chair. As the almost imperceptible tingling began
she closed her eyes and smiled with childish delight. Jamie
stood over her, his back to the great block of ice. Neither of
them was aware that it had all but completely disintegrated,
leaving the body once trapped inside it free and alive.
      Suddenly, Victoria opened her eyes, looked past Jamie
and screamed. At the same moment, Jamie heard the power
pack crash to the floor, and spun round to see what had
caused the noise. The massive form of the Ice Warrior was not
merely free of the ice block, but was looming over him,
hideously threatening! His immediate reaction, keyed by
Victoria’s choked scream, was to protect her. Without
hesitation, he threw himself against the motionless giant, in a
vain attempt to grapple with that immense strength—but he
might as well have been a wolf-hound tackling a dinosaur.
With one sweeping blow from its mighty arm, the Ice Warrior
knocked him unconscious to the ground. With one great
lumbering stride, the armoured giant reached the vibro-
chair—but Victoria had already fainted. For a brief moment,
the Ice Warrior gazed at her limp body, the breath seeming to
hiss with difficulty through his strangely reptilian lips. He
ponderously looked all around the room—as if searching for
the best means of escape. Then, lifting Victoria as though she
was no more than a feather, he strode past Jamie’s fallen
body, through the nearest doorway, and into the corridor
beyond...

       Clent and his subordinates were seated in a tight semi-
circle around the table top formed by the ECCO control area.
A stranger would have observed that the video-eyed
communicator was not merely treated as a convenient
information source, but was functioning as a member of the
group. In fact, it had several jobs. Like an electronic secretary,
it was taking minutes of the meeting; it produced relevant
statistics when required, and it evaluated group decisions in
the light of world policy. At the moment, however, it was
passive. Clent was completing the summary of his
confrontation with the Doctor.
       ‘It took him just ninety seconds to propose and explain
Ionisation,’ he stated, ‘and with no prior knowledge!’
       Arden was impressed, but cautious. ‘It took us and the
World Academy of Scientists years.’
       ‘And the computer three millisecs,’ interrupted Miss
Garrett. Brilliant though this stranger might be, he could
never be superior to her beloved computer. Arden disagreed.
       ‘It couldn’t do anything without proper programming,’
he pointed out shrewdly, much to Jan’s annoyance. But Clent
shared her absolute faith in the machine.
       ‘I’d like an assessment from the computer,’ he insisted,
‘before we make any final decision about this... Doctor.’
       ‘I agree.’ nodded Miss Garrett. ‘We have to be
completely certain.’
       ‘ECCO!’ instructed Clent. The artificial head turned
expectantly. ‘State the work potential and group value of this
new member of our team.’
       The computer’s answer was immediate and passionless.
       ‘More information needed for complete evaluation. Interim
judgement: high IQ but undisciplined to unit’s immediate needs.
Possible use on research projects. Could be obstructive in certain
subjective situations.’
       The last sentence went largely unheard. At that
moment, the door burst open and the Doctor stumbled rather
breathlessly into the room. ‘There you are!’ he exclaimed.
       ‘We’ve been waiting for you, Doctor,’ Clent pointed out
with icy formality. ‘Perhaps you wouldn’t mind sitting down?’
       ‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere!’ replied the
Doctor. ‘Why don’t you label your doors, or something?’
      ‘Perhaps you’d let us complete our official business
before making unnecessary complaints about administration,’
said Clent coldly.
      ‘No, I’m afraid not,’ insisted the Doctor. ‘I’ve got
something pretty important to tell you actually. It’s about that
thing in the block of ice.’
      ‘The Ice Warrior!’ exclaimed Arden anxiously. ‘Has
something happened to it?’
      ‘We have more serious matters on hand than amateur
archaeology!’ interrupted Clent. But the Doctor was not to be
shouted down.
      ‘This is serious,’ he continued grimly. ‘It’s the thing’s
helmet—it’s not what we think it is.’
      ‘You’ve discovered that it’s a prehistoric drinking cup, I
suppose,’ said Clent sarcastically.
      The Doctor was looking at Arden as he spoke. ‘It has
electronic connections,’ he said.
      There was a tense silence, as this remark struck home.
Clent frowned. Was this stranger, dressed like a scavenger but
with the brain of a scientist, a complete eccentric or, even
worse, a practical joker? On the other hand, his face was
deadly serious.
      ‘What are you talking about, man?’ he demanded,
uncertainly.
      Arden’s amazement exploded into words. ‘It’s not
possible! You must’ve made a mistake!’
      ‘I’m quite sure.’ The Doctor was almost apologetic. ‘Of
course, you do realise what this means?’
      Clent said nothing, but it was obvious that thoughts
were racing through his mind. Arden groped for an
explanation.
       ‘It must mean...’ he paused, then plunged on, ‘it has to
mean its culture was even more advanced than we first
thought!’
       ‘So much more advanced,’ remarked the Doctor drily,
‘that they even had astronauts?’
       ‘What!’ exclaimed Clent.
       ‘That headpiece of his,’ observed the Doctor, ‘it’s not a
warrior’s tin hat, you know. It’s a highly sophisticated space
helmet!’
       Miss Garrett firmly decided that the Doctor was having
them on. What he was saying was impossible —and somebody
had to tell him so!
       ‘Don’t you think you’re jumping to conclusions,
Doctor—for a scientist?’ she said coolly. ‘I mean to say—a
prehistoric spaceman! It’s ridiculous!’
       Arden’s face was shining with excitement. The
implications were fantastic! ‘If it’s true,’ he whispered, his
mind in a turmoil... But the Doctor’s next words brought him
down to earth.
       ‘If it’s true,’ the Doctor repeated grimly, ‘the Ioniser
programme here could be finished for good.’
       Clent had the barest premonition of what the Doctor’s
warning could mean. But it was too startling to be admitted
openly.
       ‘In what way?’ he asked, smiling. ‘How can one deep-
frozen body, no matter how many centuries old, affect our
project? You’re talking nonsense, my dear chap!’
       The Doctor studied Clent’s seemingly amused face, and
understood why he didn’t want to admit the truth. It really
was an impossible dilemma—but it had to be faced. He
sighed. He’d better explain, gently—as if to children.
      ‘How did the Ice Warrior get there then?’ The others
remained silent, baffled. ‘He didn’t walk there, did he?’
      Reluctantly, Clent answered. ‘If what you say is true... he
must have arrived... by spaceship.’
      ‘And where’s that spaceship now, do you reckon?’
enquired the Doctor gently. He answered his own question.
‘In the glacier...’
      Arden began to daydream again, his eyes shining with
the possibilities. ‘It could still be intact! The Ice Warrior
showed no signs of damage or mutilation. They might not
have crashed; they might have actually landed—to explore
earth!’ He turned from Miss Garrett to Clcnt, almost begging
them to share his exultation. ‘Can’t you see what it means?
Intelligent contact with beings from another planet!’
      The Doctor spoke more soberly. ‘I think Leader Clent
also sees the inherent dangers.’
      Clent nodded grimly. ‘The propulsion unit of the
spacecraft...’ he began.
      Jan, too saw what the Doctor was getting at, and
whispered, ‘Could it be reactor powered?’
      ‘Quite so, Miss Garrett,’ applauded the Doctor. ‘And if
you were to use the Ioniser at anything like full power...’
      ‘The heat...’ she hesitated, then went on. ‘the spaceships
reactor could go critical... and we’d have no way of preventing
it from exploding...’
      ‘The radiation...’ Arden looked at the others, his face
now full of anxiety. ‘The whole area would be contaminated—
possibly for centuries!’
      ‘And what if we don’t use the Ioniser—what happens
then?’ broke in Clent. ‘We are part of a world plan! If we hold
back, the whole operation must fail!’
       ‘We could try holding it at minimal power,’ suggested
Jan.
       ‘You know that won’t work!’ snapped Clent. ‘It increases
the risks of a power feed-back here, with a resulting explosion
in our own reactor!’
       At last it had been spelled out. While the others
considered their desperate position, the Doctor murmured his
apology.
       ‘Sorry. But I thought you ought to know.’
       ‘You were quite right to do so,’ Cleat acknowledged with
a tired gesture. We must inform the computer, of course.’
       Before he could take steps to do so, the doors clattered
open, to reveal Jamie, still dazed. He clung desperately to the
doorframe. A trickle of blood had dried on his forehead
       ‘Doctor!’ he called out, his face tense with effort.
       Within seconds, the Doctor had helped Jamie into the
nearest chair. He saw at a glance that the cut on Jamie’s head
was no more than a graze. But it was obvious that something
was seriously the matter. And where was Victoria? Jamie’s
breathless words explained everything—and added yet
another amazing twist to the already desperate situation.
       ‘It’s that Warrior fellow!’ he gasped. ‘He’s come alive!’
       Both Clent and Miss Garrett were stunned into silence,
but Arden cried out in disbelief. ‘What!’
       ‘I couldn’t stop him. He packs a punch like a charging
bull!’
       ‘Victoria,’ demanded the Doctor, ‘where is she? Is she all
right?’
       Jamie looked at him, sober-faced, and shook his head
miserably. ‘I don’t know,’ he muttered. ‘He took her with
him!’
       With Clent leading the way, it was only a matter of
minutes before the group arrived at the laboratory. The scene
spoke for itself: the trolley, empty but for a mass of crushed
ice, the shattered power pack, and the overturned vibro-chair.
The Ice Warrior’s past had erupted into the present. Jamie,
still dazed, sat down. While the others talked, the Doctor
examined the trolley and the electrodes that had once been
attached to the great ice block.
       ‘There’s something very strange about this,’ he
remarked.
       Clent, utterly bewildered, was questioning Jamie. ‘But
what did you do to make it happen?’
       ‘How do I know? We were just talking, and then I
turned, and there he was—standing right over me!’
       ‘It’s impossible,’ insisted Arden.
       ‘For a human being, perhaps...’ said the Doctor,
mysteriously.
       Clent stared at him, uncomprehending.
       ‘Look at this table,’ the Doctor pointed to its surface. It
was cracked and bubbled—as though scorched by fire.
       ‘But that would take immense heat!’ exclaimed Cletrc.
       ‘The electricity—’ offered Jamie.
       Arden rejected this. ‘I used a low voltage, deliberately!’
       ‘But a high current, I believe,’ pointed out the Doctor.
       ‘Yes... but it was safe—there was no fire risk!’ retorted
the geologist.
       ‘It isn’t necessarily a question of actual fire,’ explained
the Doctor. ‘Suppose that current flowed through a high
resistance. What would be the result?’
       ‘Extremely high temperatures,’ replied Jan. ‘You mean,
that thing...’
      ‘I said it wasn’t human. didn’t I?’ the Doctor reminded
her. ‘In my opinion, the sudden build-up of heat shocked him
back into neural activity.’
      ‘And what about Victoria?’ demanded Jamie, clear-
headed and alert once more. ‘What can we do to save her?’
      A surge of guilt flowed over the Doctor’s mind. He faced
Jamie tensely, the scientific problem forgotten.
      ‘You’re right, Jamie. We’ve got to find her! They
couldn’t have got far!’
      Clent, too, had reacted sharply to the reminder that an
undesirable alien menace was loose within the Base complex;
less important was its helpless hostage. He moved quickly to
the video-communicator.
      ‘Danger. Red alert!’ he snapped to all channels within
the Base. ‘Intruders within Base perimeter. Capture and
control—priority one!’
      But Jamie wasn’t impressed. ‘What good’s that? Suppose
they’re already out of it? We’ve got to go after them—now!’
      ‘My dear chap, I’m very sorry, but we’re down to
emergency personnel only. I cannot release men to go
wandering off outside this Base. It’d be madness!’
      ‘But the girl’s life may be at stake!’ added the Doctor.
‘You have to make a search party available!’
      Jan Garrett saw Clent’s mouth tighten stubbornly. No
matter how much the Doctor argued, the Leader had made
up his mind. But there was one possible way out.
      ‘Leader Clent,’ she suggested calmly, ‘we must inform
the computer.’ She paused, knowing he had to agree, then
went on, ‘It could soon tell us whether it is possible to
reallocate the work schedule to release a rescue party.’
      The others watched tensely as Clent considered Jan’s
shrewd suggestion. He reluctantly nodded his head. ‘Very
well, we will put it to the computer...’

        Unknown to Clent and the Doctor, Victoria was being
held prisoner only a hundred yards away. At the first sound of
the security alarm, the Ice Warrior had entered the nearest
convenient bolt hole—a medical store room.
        Victoria had still been unconscious when they had taken
cover. Coming round now, she had no idea where she was. All
that she could see from the corner where she lay huddled, was
the gigantic form of the lee Warrior. He was standing by the
door, listening intently. The distant alarm call stopped
abruptly. Seemingly satisfied, the creature now turned
towards Victoria—and she saw his cruel face clearly for the
first time.
        Her throat became so tight with fear that she could
scarcely gasp... The so-called armour of the helmet-head and
massive body was in fact tough, and reptilian in substance—
but unlike animal eyes, its hard glass-covered eye sockets
revealed no emotion. Only a vaguely flickering light
illuminated their dark depths.
        Like the eyes, the creature’s ears looked mechanical in
design—electronic, as the Doctor had said. But the mouth was
different: mobile, leathery, lizard-like. It seemed to he forever
struggling to snatch in precious air, with the result that every
breath, every word it uttered, hissed snake-like from that
menacing head. From the huge shoulders downwards, the
armoured skin took on the shape of a great protective shell.
        Victoria noticed with a shudder that instead of hands, or
even webbed, reptilian claws, the arms ended in what looked
like metallic clamps. And from the right forearm, compact
and sleek, but as though part of the creature’s physical
anatomy, projected a strange, tubular device—rather like the
telescopic sights of a rifle. Victoria had no time for further
speculation. The Ice Warrior was now looming over her, cruel
and menacing.
      ‘Stand!’ it commanded.
      Victoria forced herself upright. Her knees were like
water. Only by spreading herself back against the wall, could
she safely stay on her feet. She tried to keep the terror out of
her voice; her chin tilted upwards bravely.
      ‘Who are you?’ she demanded, looking up defiantly at
the warrior head. At first, she heard only the eerie sound of its
hissing breath; Victoria shivered beneath its dark, inscrutable
gaze. What sort of creature was part reptile, part machine?
      ‘Where are you from?’ she cried out boldly, knowing all
the while that if the creature made another sudden more, she
would probably faint. The response from the creature made
Victoria’s eyes grow round with wonder.
      ‘My name... is Varga...’ came the slow, faltering reply.
‘My home... is the Red Planet!’
      It can’t be true, Victoria thought to herself desperately.
But she forced her voice to frame the question, ‘Mars?’
      Varga nodded proudly. Unearthly as he was, everything
about him echoed the famous legends that Victoria had heard
about the god of war; his pride, his strength and his savagery
in battle. But this was a living, hideous alien—not a Greek
god. And one who had been dead and buried in the glacier’s
ice only hours ago. For a moment, curiosity overcame her
fear.
      ‘But you were dead!’ exclaimed Victoria. ‘How did you
come back to life?’ She stopped and flinched as Varga
gestured angrily.
      ‘Enough questions!’ he hissed furiously. ‘Give me
answers!’
      ‘Why should I?’ She never had liked being ordered
about—even when frightened. But her defiance wavered. The
Ice Warrior was now pointing the strange tubular device
straight at her head.
      ‘Answers!’ came the insistent demand. Victoria nodded
dumbly. The Ice Warrior continued. ‘How long was I trapped
in the ice?’
      ‘I don’t know—’ Victoria started to say, then
remembered that answers were compulsory. ‘One of the
scientists here thinks you must have been inside the glacier
sincethe First Ice Age...’ she faltered. hardly able to believe it
herself,’... thousands of years ago.’
      The Ice Warrior hissed with astonishment. ‘As long ago
as that?’ He paused in wonderment, and then quickly
demanded, ‘They found nothing else?’
      Alarm flared suddenly in Victoria’s mind. She steeled
herself to look into his expressionless face. ‘You mean... there
are others like you?’ she whispered.
      The Ice Warrior lowered his arm, and stood strangely
rigid. Victoria sensed the brooding change within Varga’s
mind as he cast back through centuries of time, struggling to
remember.
      ‘We were hovering... over the frozen lands. A sudden
turbulence... our spacecraft crashed at the foot of the Ice
Mountain.’ He paused. His memory was clearing. ‘We went
outside our craft to investigate. The ice mountain shook...
split open... swallowed us in a great whirlwind of snow, and
there was only darkness.’
      He fell silent. Only the gentle labouring of his breath
told Victoria anything of his state of mind. She spoke with
sympathy.
      ‘The others with you,’ murmured Victoria, ‘did they all
die—trapped inside the glacier?’
      Varga drew himself up proudly, and giving the staccato,
dry cough that passed in his race for laughter, replied
harshly. ‘If they are dead as I was... then they can be freed—
and made to live!’
      The full meaning of what Varga was saying didn’t strike
home to Victoria immediately. She could only see the
impossibility of ever finding Varga’s companions—let alone
recovering them from the glacier. ‘You’ll never be able to get
them out by yourself!’ she declared.
      ‘You do not yet understand my capabilities,’ he
murmured harshly. ‘But I will need your help!’
      ‘My help?’ questioned Victoria, surprised. ‘How?’ ‘Tell
me... how I was brought to life? What is the process? What did
these earthling scientists do?’
      ‘How do I know?’ said Victoria in exasperation. ‘I’m not
one of them.’
      ‘You saw, you were with them. Tell me!’
      ‘Why ask me? Why not let me take you to the scientists—
to the Doctor? They’ll help you!’
      ‘I am a stranger—an alien. Why should they help me?
They would take me prisoner—keep me as a scientific
curiosity—and leave my men for dead in the ice.’
      ‘They wouldn’t!’ exclaimed Victoria. But this was no
human castaway she was speaking to—this was a Martian
warlord.
      ‘With my men, I can talk from strength—not beg.’ He
coughed abruptly—a sharp, sneering rasp—and Victoria
shivered at the menace in the sound, as he continued. ‘Then
we shall decide!’
      ‘Decide...?’ Victoria’s alarm was gradually changing to
panic. ‘Decide what?’
      There was no mistaking the grim confidence in Varga’s
voice. ‘Whether to return to our own planet,’ he replied
sternly, ‘or conquer yours!’

       In the great hall, Clent had finished putting the
situation to ECCO. The others were gathered about him,
tensely waiting for its judgement.
       ‘Those are the relevant factors,’ finished Clent. ‘How
should we proceed?’
       Jamie could keep quiet no longer, and blurted out in
anger, ‘How’s a machine to know?’
       ‘Be quiet, Jamie,’ admonished the Doctor, as the crisp
voice of the computer began to discharge its answer.
       ‘The ionisation programme should continue as instructed—but
the presence of an alien spacecraft must be investigated.’
       The computer paused fractionally. Clent’s look of bland
superiority changed to a frown.
       ‘But how can we?’ he asked the computer. ‘Our reduced
manpower—’
       The computer chose to ignore Clent, and continued
coldly. ‘Suspected fissionable material must take priority,’ it clipped
out. ‘Glacial status can be held for limited period.’
       ‘But what about Victoria?’ interrupted Jamie.
       ‘The emergency operating schedule has been rearranged to free
one scientist for the investigation,’ continued the machine
calmly.’In the present circumstances, the nominated member should be
scientist Arlen. Effect these instructions immediately.’
       The computer fell silent. Clent turned to Arden, who
could barely hide his excitement.
       ‘You heard what’s to be done, Arden. Do you think you
can handle it?’
       ‘He’ll never cope with that Ice Warrior by himself!’
insisted Jamie.
       ‘I could do with a security guard,’ agreed Arden
nervously.
       ‘The computer has nominated one man only,’ snapped
Clent irritably. ‘It will have to be enough!’ ‘What about me?’
asked Jamie eagerly. ‘Let me go with him!’
       Clent frowned, about to give a sharp retort, but the
Doctor cut in quickly. ‘He’s a capable lad—and he’s not on
your staff. He’s extra.’
       Clent studied the Doctor thoughtfully, then shrugged. It
was true: this boy was surplus, and as such, not Clent’s
responsibility. He was also something of a troublemaker—
better out of the way.
       ‘Very well. As the Doctor is going to help us with the
Ioniser, the boy can go.’ As Jamie glanced triumphantly at the
Doctor, Clent scowled. But there must be no delay!’ he
insisted harshly. ‘Go—now!’
       Jan Garrett smoothly explained Clent’s apprehension.
‘The sooner we know whether there is a nuclear reactor
buried inside the glacier, the better:
       ‘Aye, mebbe,’ replied Jamie curdy. ‘But our Victoria’s
important too, to know.’
       Clent turned on him savagely. ‘Don’t you realise, boy?
The fate of the whole of Europe could be at stake! That’s
what’s important—not this prehistoric freak of Arden’s, nor
the girl! She’ll just have to take her chance!’
                        4
                Back from the Dead
      Storr gritted his teeth against the pain. Penley threw a
quick glance at his drawn, pallid face, then deftly completed
the task of bandaging the now swollen arm. It was a bad
break; the bone-torn muscle was rapidly going septic, and
Storr wasn’t far from a coma. But it was his own pigheaded
stubbornness that had brought about his present critical state.
Penley knotted the make-shift bandage tight, and felt Storr
wince.
      ‘What’re you trying to do? Cripple me?’
      ‘Sorry, old chap,’ soothed Penley. He tried to make his
surly patient more comfortable. ‘The trouble with you, you
know, is that you will insist on being stupid.’
      Storr turned his face away. He hated admitting he was
wrong—but he had to be honest. ‘How was I to know it’d get
infected?’ he growled, then sank back weakly.
      Penley looked round at Storrs bizarre den—the
abandoned Victorian conservatory in which, years before,
Storr had established his plant museum. How much longer
would it last, he wondered? How long would it take before the
ice—which was again rumbling ominously outside—was in
there with them?
      ‘You should’ve listened to me in the first place,’ said
Penley, ‘shouldn’t you?’
      ‘And given you the chance to stuff me with anti-this, and
anti-that?’ grumbled Story. ‘I’d’ve been flat on my back for
months...!’
        ‘Whereas now,’ observed Penley drily, ‘you’re fighting
fit, of course.’
        Storr rose to the bait as usual. ‘Someone’s got to do
things!’
        ‘Well that someone isn’t going to be you for a while yet.
And it serves you right.’
        ‘It’s nothing!’ snapped Store. ‘I’ll pull through!’ He
gazed at his precious plants through a haze of pain,
desperately trying to concentrate his mind.
        ‘...how it was before they killed off all the plants,’ he
gabbled, half-smiling. ‘There would have been Spring, then—
fruit, on trees, waiting to be picked...’ His ravaged face
tightened into bitterness once more. ‘Now... you damned
scientists—destructive meddlers!’ His anger subsided again.
‘Killed all the plants... and flowers...’
        Pcnley could see that he was slipping into a coma. Soon,
there would be no wood left from their precious stock, and
without that warmth, the deadly cold would start to creep into
Storr’s haven. He had to act—and quickly. He stood up, and
started to put on the heavy skins for snow travel. His quick
and decisive movements woke Story. ‘What’re you doing, you
fool!’ mumbled the half-conscious man.
        ‘The Base,’ replied Penley curtly.
        Storr tried to rise, but he had no strength. He fell back
helplessly, but his eyes burned with fever and accusation.
‘You’re going to turn me in... like a dirty coward. I don’t
want... rehabilitation... Africa...’ He was nearly out, but still he
protested. ‘Never trust... scientists.’
        Penley turned ‘It’s for your idiotic sake that I’m going!
For drugs! And if I don’t get them...’ He looked down at the
unconscious body, ‘you’re as good as dead!’
       ‘Think!’ commanded the Ice Warrior in that strange,
fierce whisper. ‘Tell me what it was they used to give my body
life!’
       Victoria could see that there was no escape. But what
could she tell him when she knew so little her-self?
       ‘I don’t know what it was called, so how can I tell you?’
she explained desperately.
       But Varga wasn’t going to be satisfied that easily.
‘Describe it!’ he hissed sharply.
       Victoria tried hard to remember what the scientist
Arden had done to the great ice block—but it was difficult.
She hadn’t really been paying attention at the time. The body
inside the ice had been the subject of everyone’s fascination—
and now here it was, alive and menacing, holding her
prisoner!
       ‘It was a sort of... small black box,’ she suggested
vaguely.
       ‘Go on!’ demanded Varga with an urgent gesture.
‘Explain how it worked!’
       ‘It had wires,’ recalled Victoria hesitantly, then blurted
out ‘and they connected the wires to the ice. It made a funny,
quiet sort of noise—and nobody knew you were going to
come to life, but you just did!’ She paused, breathless and
afraid.
       But it was enough for the Ice Warrior to understand.
His great clamp-like fist pointed towards his armoured chest.
‘A power source,’ he hissed wonderingly. ‘High resistance...
great heat... and then—life!’ He swung round to face Victoria,
and pointed the device at her terrified face.
       ‘This room we came from,’ he whispered harshly, ‘I wish
to return to it—now!’
      Victoria’s face brightened. ‘I’ll tell you how to get there!’
The Ice Warrior wasn’t taken in by her sudden co-operation.
      ‘You will take me there,’ he commanded, gripping her
arm. ‘You will help me find the power unit. With that my
men, too, can be brought back from the dead...’
      Desperately, Victoria searched her mind for excuses, all
the while aware of the numbing pressure on her wrist, and
the delicate menace of the device on Varga’s arm.
      But we’ll have to go along the corridor,’ she pointed out
quickly. ‘And supposing someone sees you holding me
prisoner?’
      ‘Then I shall be forced to kill them,’ hissed the Martian
warlord calmly. ‘And you also, if you attempt to call for help.’
He held the device between Victoria’s frightened eyes. She
swallowed hard, but spoke bravely.
      ‘What is it?’ she asked fearfully.
      ‘It is a sonic destructor: To put it simply, it will
disintegrate your brain with sound waves.’
      She looked at the Martian, eyes wide.
      ‘All right,’ she said, trying to hide the fear in her voice.
‘Are you ready now?’
      Varga silently gestured for her to lead the way. Victoria
slowly opened the door, praying desperately that they would
meet nobody on their way to the medicare centre. She paused
for a moment, surveying the corridor outside. It was deserted.
Varga shuffled close behind her, urging her onward. Blindly,
she obeyed. The alternative was too horrible to think about...
      Penley had approached the same corridor from the
terrace. Huddled in a shadowy corner, he was contemplating
his next move. The corridor was unusually quiet—without
even the normal security guard. What could it all mean? Was
something really wrong—or was it some sort of trap? He
listened intently. In the far distance, he could hear the high
pitch of machinery which had once been so familiar to him.
The Ioniser was still functioning then—though not for much
longer, he thought grimly. But all that was Clent’s problem
now. The immediate goal was to get into the medicare centre
and select the drugs needed to save Storr’s life.
      Suddenly, he froze. His ears had caught a sound subtly
different, puzzling—coming along the corridor towards him:
slow, ponderous. shuffling—and accompanied by a lighter,
more timid step. He looked cautiously out from the shadows
that concealed him and his eyebrows shot up in amazement.
      Advancing cautiously towards the doorway of the
medicare centre was a girl—but it was her companion that
had shocked Penley. He had seen nothing like it on earth!
Immense—eight feet tall at least—it looked almost prehistoric.
A glint of light suddenly caught its helmet and clumsy
mechanical hands. Penley barely managed to stifle a gasp. His
mind raced, throwing up a flood of questions. What was it?
What was such a creature doing inside the Base? Who on
earth was the girl?
      Then, Penley saw the tight look of terror on the girl’s
young face—barely more than a child, he realised, as she
moved closer. Her slender wrist was gripped by the monster
who was hulking beside her. They stopped outside the
medicare doorway.
      Then. as the reptilian giant biped thrust the doors open
with one blow of his massive arm, the girl looked about her
desperately, before being dragged inside. Her eyes widened
as she saw Penley. His first reaction was to rush forward to
help—but something in her face stopped the movement
almost before it began. Although her eyes pleaded with him,
her head gave the slightest of negative movements—stay
away! Penley was soon to know why. As though angered by
the girl’s reluctance to go through the medicare doors, the
monster pointed his free arm directly at her head. The
gesture was unmistakable, and Penley caught a clear glimpse
of the strange tubular device... The girl obediently stumbled
into the room and out of sight, followed by the massive
creature. Once more the corridor was silent and empty,
leaving Penley totally unnerved and desperate to know what
to do next.
      Inside the medicare centre Varga paused, taking h the
room and its complex equipment. On the far side of the room
stood the trolley that had once borne his lifeless body. It was
slopping with water and fragments of melting ice. Satisfied, he
released Victoria from his iron grasp.
      ‘This is the place...’ he hissed, then gestured curtly at
Victoria, who was standing frightened and helpless in the
centre of the room. ‘The black box!’ he exclaimed. ‘Find it!
Quickly!’

      A rare calm reigned in the control room complex. For
the first time in weeks, the Ioniser hadn’t kept everyone in a
state of permanent tension. Jan moved along the ranks of
monitor technicians, and felt almost elated. This was how
their great project should be—totally under control.
      She glanced across at the ECCO conference table, where
Clent and the Doctor were studying circuit blueprints on the
videoscreen. Could one man make such a difference, she
wondered, as she studied the clownish figure seated by
Leader Clent. Her respect for his intelligence far outweighed
her displeasure at his irreverent treatment of her or his
impudent smile. She also knew that Clent had accepted the
Doctor as his equal—in brainpocrer if not in authority. And
this had been the most important factor of all in stabilising the
near-to-panic atmosphere. She sighed inwardly. If only
Penley could see the place like this instead of as it had been
the day he stormed out under a hail of sarcasm from Clent...
       Clent looked at the Doctor, who was concentrating on
the videoscreen by his side. ‘I still say it needs an expert,’
commented the Doctor, nodding towards the elaborate
circuitry designs on the videoscreen. ‘Can’t you afford one?’
       Clent’s face stiffened. Had the Doctor been reading his
mind? ‘I choose not to,’ he clipped.
       ‘Why?’
       ‘You are not here to question my decisions! You have no
authority.’
       ‘I know,’ agreed the Doctor, unruffled. ‘I’m here to
help—if I so choose.’ He smiled. ‘I think we should trust each
other, don’t you?’
       With an effort, Clent controlled the instinctive
resentment he felt whenever this bitter subject cropped up: a
rational explanation should clear this matter up once and for
all, he decided. He didn’t realise that behind the Doctor’s
seemingly innocent and trusting gaze was a probing
intelligence that could—if need be—winkle the truth out of a
giant clam.
       ‘You’ll appreciate,’ stated Clent, ‘the importance of this
mission. I was chosen because I never fail. My record is one
hundred per cent success. And I’ve handled some big
projects, I assure you. Doctor.’ He paused, and frowned. ‘As
always, I hand-picked my team... but for once, I made a vital
mistake...’
       ‘This chap Penley?’ suggested the Doctor, knowingly.
       Clent nodded. ‘The best man in Europe for Ionisation
studies... but as it turned out, hopelessly temperamental!’
       The Doctor looked at Clent shrewdly. The Leader’s
defensive reaction had already revealed what was wrong.
‘Temperamental,’ the Doctor queried gently. ‘or individual?
Creative scientists have to be allowed some freedom of
thought you know, otherwise—’
       Cleat cut in angrily, stung by the way in which the
Doctor had hit the nail on the head. ‘Creative poppycock!
When Penley walked out of here, he publicly proclaimed
himself to be criminally irresponsible!’
       ‘You don’t think, then, that what he did could have been
a simple gesture of protest?’
       ‘He was always protesting! This unit is a team—a team
with a mission! If we fail, how can others expect to succeed?’
       ‘And it’ll be your name that suffers, of course,’ replied
the Doctor keenly. ‘And that’s important to you, isn’t it?’
       Suddenly Clent was on the defensive. ‘I lead the team,
but I depend on the experts that I select. With the exception
of Penley, my judgement was sound. But others won’t see it
that way. They’ll only mark up the failure!’
       ‘So you really need this chap Penley.’
       ‘No! I do not need Penley!’ Then he added hastily, ‘But I
do need an equivalent brain to take over from where that...
traitor left off! Normally, it would take months to train up a
stranger.’ His face had a look of desperation. ‘There simply
isn’t time—that’s the truth of the matter! And that’s why we
need you!’
       ‘I’ll do what I can. But I think you ought to understand
that personally I prefer trusting human beings rather than
computers.’
       Clent’s face grew stern and proud. His hand came to
rest on ECCO’s control panel. ‘I trust nobody, Doctor.
Human emotions are too unreliable.’ Suddenly, as though at
the flick of a switch, he dismissed the whole subject from his
mind, and became brisk and purposeful once more. ‘If you
require any further data, Miss Garrett will obtain it for you.
I’ll go and check that there is a working area cleared ready for
you in the medicare centre. Perhaps you’d like to join me
there when you’re ready?’ With that he strode off. The Doctor
stared after him, and thoughtfully shook his head...

      Varga was becoming more and more furious. Victoria,
sensing that his anger was increasing, searched ever more
hurriedly for the vital power pack. At the sound of smashing
glass, she spun round. With one sweep of his mighty arm,
Varga had cleared a nearby bench of its chemical apparatus.
He turned to her, his breath coming in fearful gasps.
      ‘Where is this power source!’ he snarled, moving
towards her with mighty strides. ‘Do not try to trick met if it is
not here—’
      His threat was lost as he overturned a cupboard in his
effort to reach Victoria. As it fell, a jumble of equipment fell
out—among it several power packs. Varga stopped, and
studied the confusion of gear at his feet. He looked up at
Victoria, whose tense face showed her relief. She nodded.
      ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Those are the ones.’
      She watched as the Ice Warrior picked up a couple by
their leads, and began to examine them triumphantly. What
would he do now? As though in answer to her unspoken
thought, Varga turned his mighty head towards her and
spoke.
      ‘You will come with me to the Ice Mountain,’ he hissed,
and grabbed her unresisting arm. But Victoria’s eyes were
staring past the Ice Warrior to the doorway. Standing there,
his face stunned with disbelief, was Clent. Victoria screamed a
warning—but too late. In an instant, Varga had turned, seen
Clcnt, and swung into action.
       Fortunately for the scientist, Varga’s weapon arm was
holding the precious power packs. lastead of using the sonic
destructor, the Ice Warrior swung the power packs by their
leads, like a medieval ball and chain. Clent, having no chance
to dodge the swift, savage blow, slumped to the floor without
even a cry. Victoria stared in horror at his crumpled body.
       ‘You’ve... killed him,’ she whispered.
       ‘Come!’ Varga replied harshly—but Victoria had
fainted. Pausing only to sweep up her limp body in the crook
of his mighty arm, the Martian strode over the fallen scientist
and through the doors leading to the corridor and freedom.
       Penley had seen Clent arrive and enter the medicare
centre. Minutes later, the reptilian giant burst out into the
corridor, carrying the girl on one arm and a tangled bundle
of power packs in the other cruel fist. Once he was out of
sight, Penley dashed into the medicare room, to find Clent
sprawled and bleeding from a head wound. Crouching by
him, Penley felt expertly for a pulse. He nodded with
satisfaction and then, moving casually across to a compact
automat machine that dispensed pharmaceutical components,
dialled the correct formula. Almost immediately. several
phials and syringes appeared in the tray beneath. Taking
them up, Penley now dialled a fresh formula. a light smile
playing on his lips. The mixture duly arrived, and he turned
to deal with Clent—only to find the Doctor kneeling by the
unconscious body, head to its chest, listening for the tell-tale
heart beat. The Doctor straightened up, but stayed kneeling;
Penley moved to his side. For a brief moment, the two
bizarrely dressed men solemnly looked at each other without
fear or anger. Penley smiled faintly, and handed the phial to
the Doctor for his approval.
       ‘He isn’t dead.’ he remarked casually. ‘I was going to
give him a whiff of this.’
       The Doctor sniffed at the open phial warily—then
pulled a sickened face. ‘Revolting!’ Almost gleefully, he thrust
it beneath Clent’s unresisting nose. ‘This should do the trick
very nicely,’ he chuckled, then looked from the cut on Clent’s
forehead to Penley. ‘Did you do this?’
       Penley shook his head. ‘I’ve come close to it at times. In
fact, I’ve never seen him looking so peaceful.’
       ‘He’ll be all right. Did you see anything of what
happened?’
       ‘A great monstrous-looking creature—reptilian biped.
But not prehistoric—possibly a robot.’
       The Doctor studied Penley keenly; his summary
displayed scientific deduction of the highest quality. But there
was a more urgent question in the Doctor’s mind. ‘Was there
a girl with this creature—captive, or under duress?’
       Penley nodded. ‘Yes,’ he frowned. ‘She was
unconscious.’ He saw the glare of accusation in the Doctor’s
eyes, and hurriedly explained. ‘I couldn’t have stopped that
giant. No one man could.’ He glanced down at Clent.
‘Anyway. I came here to get drugs—to save a man’s life. I
don’t intend getting caught.’
       His eyes held the Doctor’s gaze challengingly. Mild
though the ragged intruder appeared, the Doctor knew that
he would let little stand in the way of his original purpose. It
explained something of Clent’s bitter attitude, too.
       ‘Look. Penley.’ the Doctor said hesitatingly.
       Penley looked suddenly wary. ‘You know about me, do
you? My dreadful escapades in computer-land...’
      ‘Whatever happened in the past,’ declared the Doctor
earnestly, ‘they need you here now. They’re in desperate
trouble!’
      ‘Needing isn’t getting. I’m free of their problems for
good. And I’ve a friend who’ll die unless I get, back quickly.’
      ‘The problems here are yours as well! It’s your world
that’s threatened, isn’t it?’
      Penley smiled gently, and tapped the side of his head
with one finger. ‘My world’s up here, my friend—strictly
private and no admittance. Clent can keep all this!’ He looked
keenly at the Doctor, almost daring him to interfere, then
spoke quietly. ‘I’m leaving. All right?’
      ‘I’m sure you’ve got good reasons, old chap,’ the Doctor
replied soberly. ‘Good luck.’
      Penley reached the door, then turned and smiled. ‘Nice
to meet someone who hasn’t been got at’ he said cheerfully,
and was gone.
      A quiet groan came from the floor by the Doctor’s feet.
He looked down at Clent’s body with an air of pained surprise
‘Good heavens, Clent, I’d forgotten all about you!’ He
crouched, and thrust the evil-smelling phial under the
Leader’s nose once more. Coughing and spluttering, Clent
struggled to sit upright, and avoid the pungent fumes. The
movement brought an awareness of throbbing pain in his
head. He looked at the Doctor with a dazed expression,
before the full memory of what had happened flooded back.
      ‘The Ice Warrior!’ he exclaimed—then, wincing, spoke
more quietly, though still with urgency. ‘Where is he?’
      ‘Gone. And he’s taken Victoria with him.’
      ‘But why?’ asked Clent. ‘Why here? They’d already
escaped once!’ His hand went tentatively to his skull, and
gently fingered the scalp wound. ‘He his me with a power
pack.’
      The Doctor looked thoughtful. Almost absentmindedly,
he helped Clent to his feet. But his brain was working
furiously.
      ‘A power pack...’ he mused aloud. ‘Like the one that
Arden used to unfreeze him?’
      Clent nodded—then wished he hadn’t, as the dizzying
pain made his head swim again. He steadied himself, then
pointed towards the wreckage of the overturned cupboard.
      ‘Those. But why?’ He groaned. ‘What’s that creature up
to—and what made it come back here to Base?’
      ‘My dear chap,’ observed the Doctor drily, ‘I think you’ll
find it never actually left in the first place.’ He looked
thoughtfully about the room. ‘He must’ve stayed hidden while
we set up the security search, then waited for his opportunity
when the alarm was cancelled.’ He looked hard at Clent. ‘This
Ice Warrior isn’t a fool, Clent. He’s clever. And he didn’t
intend to leave here empty-handed either!’
      ‘You mean he took the girl as a hostage?’
      Before the Doctor could tell Clent of the fear that was in
his mind, the doors burst open and Miss Garrett entered. Her
face looked tense. Close behind her came Arden and Jame,
both now dressed for their journey to the ice face. They
slopped short at the sight of Clent and the wrecked
laboratory.
      ‘Leader Clent, what has happened?’ demanded Jan,
hurrying towards him. ‘Are you all right?’
      ‘I was attacked by that confounded ice-age monster of
yours, Arden!’ The pain in his head forced him to control his
anger, but his voice was harsh. ‘I want it found—immediately!
And captured!’
      Jan looked in dismay towards Arden, then faced Clent
bravely. ‘We’ve just had a report from the outer perimeter,’
she said. ‘The... creature has smashed its way out—and it’s got
the girl.’
      ‘If we go now we can soon catch up with it!’ exclaimed
Jamie. ‘But they won’t let us without your say-so.’
      ‘If you’d got ready when I told you—’ rasped Clent, but
Arden quickly cut in to defend the Scots lad.
      ‘We’ve prepared ourselves as quickly as we could, Clent!
If we’d been any quicker, we’d have got outside before the
creature.’
      ‘It’s heading for the glacier, I’d say,’ said the Doctor,
‘and it’s taken at least one power pack with is—and, of course,
Victoria.’
      ‘A power pack?’ asked Jamie. ‘What for?’
      It was Arden who offered the solution that had already
crossed the Doctor’s mind. ‘He’s going to try and bring the
others back to life!’ His eyes blazed with excitement. ‘There
are others like him up there—there must be!’
      ‘Arden,’ interrupted Clent coldly, ‘you were given the
task of establishing the presence of an alien energy unit—not
a menagerie! And I would prefer positive facts,’ he added
cuttingly, ‘not schoolboy speculation!’
      ‘Then what are we waiting for?’ demanded Jamie
restlessly. ‘let’s go!’
      ‘Not until dawn breaks, lad,’ said Arden. ‘It won’t be
long,’ he added, seeing the dismay on the boy’s face.
      ‘Stalking the Ice Warrior by night’d be impossible,
Jamie,’ the Doctor pointed out. ‘He’s no fool—’
      ‘But he’s got Victoria!’ protested Jamie fiercely.
        ‘As a hostage, lad,’ insisted the Doctor patiently. ‘He
wouldn’t hump her all the way to the glacier if she wasn’t
going to be useful in some way, would he?’
        ‘Then you reckon she’ll be safe?’ Even when the
reassurance came from the Doctor, Jamie wasn’t entirely
convinced. But in the circumstances, it looked as though he
had no choice.
        ‘Of course,’ replied the Doctor, forcing himself to sound
cheerful. ‘Now that all your gear is ready, you can set out at
first light. And it isn’t as if we don’t know where he’s going, is
it?’
        Clent, now fully recovered, cut in sharply. ‘How many
times do I have to remind you, Doctor,’ he snapped, ‘that we
are not chasing monsters all over that ice mountain!’
        ‘You really are very dense sometimes, Clent old chap,’
observed the Doctor. ‘With any luck, this creature will do our
job for us! If there is a space craft, he’ll lead us to it. Don’t you
see?’ Seeing the grudging agreement on Clent’s face, he
added, ‘And as for digging his chums out of the glacier, it’ll
take him ages bare-handed and alone! Isn’t that so, Arden?’
        Arden nodded, remembering how long it had taken
Davis, using the best of equipment. But his eyes met the
Doctor’s. He was suddenly aware that he wasn’t alone is
wondering what other surprises the Ice Warrior might have
in store for his human opponents...

     Victoria didn’t regain consciousness until she found
herself sprawling and spluttering in the skin-tingling
freshness of a moonlit snowdrift She scrambled to her feet
almost automatically, dusted the snow from her clothes,
turned to look at her surroundings—and choked on a scream.
      The Ice Warrior was standing massively silhouetted
against the night sky. His dark-screened eyes, eerie and
menacing, glowed faintly as he turned slowly in a tight arc,
scanning the surface of the glacier before him. A tiny circle of
light pulsed regularly on his broad chest, and simultaneously
a soft electronic ping—like an echo-sounder’s—could be
heard. One moment the giant creature stood motionless, the
next he strode forward to the ice face, and gouged out a great
chunk of ice with his huge clamp-shaped hand.
      Victoria realised that this was her chance. While Varga
studied the surface of the glacier, she prepared to make a
silent escape—but she hadn’t reckoned with the fragments of
loose ice half-buried in the snow. At the first step, her ankle
twisted, her foothold gave was and with a sharp cry, she found
herself sprawled helplessly at the feet of the Ice Warrior. She
waited for him to show his anger—but he seemed almost
preoccupied. Slowly, Victoria got to her feet, and backed away
into the shelter of a vertical crevasse, with Varga’s harsh
whisper in her ears.
      ‘Do not try to escape,’ he hissed. ‘You are not equipped
for survival!’
      He was right, of course. Sheltered from the keening
wind, Victoria shivered and realised how small her chances
would be out there on the open snow plain which stretched
away into a silver whiteness under the cold eye of the moon.
Here at least there was a possibility of staying alive—if only as
Varga’s prisoner. She stared back at these strangely glowing
eyes, and spoke bravely.
      ‘Where are we? At the glacier?’
      ‘Yes.’ Varga whispered. and sounded pleased. ‘I have
located the position of my men inside the ice. At last!’
       Victoria was puzzled. Obviously the Ice Warrior had
used some sort of detection device. But how had he known
where to start in the first place? As though in reply to her
question, Varga pointed to the crevasse in which Victoria
crouched.
       ‘The place where you stand,’ he whispered, with no sign
of misted breath showing on the frosted air, ‘is where your
scientists cut me free.’ Wonderingly, Victoria looked all about
her. She saw the regular grooves of a boring tool or drill, and
frowned. If it had taken that sort of equipment to carve Varga
from the living ice, how could he possibly hope to release his
buried companions? She shivered again and started to stamp
her feet and beat her hands together. If she stood still for
much longer, she’d end up frozen inside the glacier herself!
       ‘Do not waste energy,’ commanded the Ice Warrior
softly, and indicated that Victoria should move away from the
ice face and stand by his side. At first, she objected.
       ‘I’ll freeze to death unless I keep my circulation going.
At least I’m out of the wind in this cranny!’
       ‘You will maintain your Earthling body temperature by
helping me,’ ordered the Martian.
       ‘What are you going to do?’ asked Victoria in surprise.
How on earth did he expect her to help?
       ‘I most release my comrades,’ Varga replied. ‘Then,
when your friends come after us, we shall have a surprise
ready...’
       Irritated, Victoria didn’t notice the quiet threat in
Varga’s words. She still couldn’t understand what the Ice
Warrior was going to do. ‘But you’ll never break that ice apart
with your bare hands!’ she cried petulantly. ‘Arden used a
heavy drill to get you out. Any other way is impossible!’
       Without replying, Varga drew her to his side and into a
position facing the glacier. Making a surprisingly delicate
adjustment to the device on his right forearm with his massive
fist, he pointed the device at the ice. The tip of the device
pulsed with light—then, as Victoria watched in amazement,
the rock-hard ice face began to disintegrate and shatter.
Without tools, without even touching the surface of the ice,
Varga was freeing his comrades as easily as carving a block of
salt with a penknife...

      Breathless from ploughing his sway through the deep,
soft snowdrifts leading up to the glacier face, Penley paused to
take refuge from the vicious sting of the wind. Storr would
have battled onwards uncomplainingly, of course—but Penley
was honest enough to admit his weaknesses. Besides, it was
unwise to travel at night through the near silent landscape of
these hills without halting and listening every now and then.
The snow buried not only the ground and ice beneath it, but
also every sound: wolves and bears moved quietly enough at
the best of times, but under cover of the snow blanket they
gained an edge of surprise that could be deadly. It paid to
keep your ears open and your eyes sharp. It also paid to
conserve your energy, thought Penley—especially when one
of the team was flat on his back and totally incapable. Still, he
thought, Storr’s past the danger stage now; whatever the big
man might rave about scientists and their hocus-pocus drugs,
it was that very magic that had saved him. Penley had left him
sleeping deeply—but with all trace of the burning fever gone.
Twenty-four hours more, and the old pirate would be himself
again; in time the bone would heal, strongly if not perfect. It
was while Storr was out of service, under-going repair, Penley
smiled to himself, that he could tackle what was in his own
mind.
      There was a mystery afoot, involving the strange,
warrior-like alien, the girl—and the scruffy-looking stranger
he’d met in the medicare laboratory. Very odd, that one—
what was he doing at the Base? How as it that he knew so
much about Clent, and the problems that idiot brought on
himself? Why had he asked him to come back to the Base?
The man had a sense of humour, too—and that was unusual
in itself. What was his link with the girl—and the creature
from the ice?
      He was certain that the ungainly monster he’d seen had
something to do with Arden’s excavations at the glacier face;
and there had only been one way to satisfy his questioning
mind: go and investigate.
      Penley lurched forward through the drifting snow,
moving diagonally across the slope that would bring him close
to the excavation site. But at the top of the wind-skimmed
ridge, he paused and crouched, his eyes squinting into the
wind, hardly able to believe what he saw.
      The usually smooth curve of the glacier, instead of
gleaming dully in the fading moonlight, glinted and sparkled
like a frozen waterfall. In front of the shattered crystalline
wall, ankle deep in ice fragments, towered the alien creature.
Its arm was pointed at the ice face and, even at this distance
the whine of some unseen device could be heard, faint but
jarring to the ear. And as Penley watched, great frozen gouts
of ice spurted and crumpled away, as though struck by a
gigantic, invisible hammer! The creature was carving its way
into the heart of the glacier!
      Penley shaded his eyes and peered harder into the
stinging spume of snow. Now he could make out the girl—
apparently helping, though without much enthusiasm. But it
was what stood beyond, gaunt and gleaming in the thin light
of the dying moon, that caught Penley’s eye and held it in
unbelieving amazement. Like prehistoric stone monoliths.
carved and dragged from the face of the glacier, towered four
immense blocks of ice.
      At last the searing whine of the sonic weapon ceased.
With a series of great heaves. Varga tore the last remaining
block of ice free of the glacier, and dragged it across to the
others. The five gleaming crags loomed menacingly against
the night sky: Victoria seemed to flinch from their cold
power. Varga strode proudly up to them, and struck the
fractured ice with his great fist.
      ‘It is done,’ he hissed, elated. ‘They are free!’
      He wheeled to face Victoria, and snapped out his
orders. ‘Bring the power packs to me!’
      She could do nothing but obey. Snatching them front
her, he deftly placed the electrodes at key points on the first
two blocks of ice. They began to hum ominously. Varga faced
his comrades boldly, and barked a command at their lifeless
forms.
      ‘Awake from the dead!’
                       5
                 The Omega Factor
       Dawn at last. Outside the Base airlock, the equipment
that Arden and Jamie would need for their investigation was
already packed aboard the sleek form of the airsled. It
included all the usual snowtrek survival gear; drilling tools,
power packs and self-heating food dispensers. But most
important of all was the directional radiation detector, which
would locate and identify any potentially dangerous
fissionable energy source in the glacier. Both Jamie and
Arden were eager to set off, but Clent had insisted the
standard formality of departure briefing. Jamie stamped his
feet impatiently as he spoke to the Doctor.
       ‘Does he always have to do everything by the rule-book?
Why doesn’t he just wish us luck and let us get on with it!’
       The Doctor shrugged. Clent was too complex a person
to explain easily to someone as young and direct as Jamie.
       ‘Forget about Clent, lad, and concentrate on being
careful...’ Then he added thoughtfully, ‘Keep an eye on
Arden, too. I don’t think he quite realises how dangerous that
creature is.’
       Jamie knew that well enough, and wasn’t afraid to admit
is ‘After what happened in the laboratory, he must be blind
then!’
       ‘He is a scientist, after all,’ murmured the Doctor, his
eyes glinting mischievously. ‘You know what they’re like.’
Jamie caught his glance, and chuckled, remembering what
he’d had to put up with from the Doctor in the past.
       ‘Aye! I know that all right!’
       The briefing over. Arden was eager to leave. His
enthusiasm bubbled over as Clent followed him through the
airlock door.
       ‘I hope we’ll at least get a chance of taking a film of the
warrior!’ he blurted out boyishly. ‘Mind you—we’ll have to
tread carefully. We don’t know how many more of them will
turn up.’
       ‘I don’t want you exposing yourself to unnecessary risks.
Arden—remember that!’ replied Clent crisply.
       Arden paused and faced Clent, his face sober. ‘Listen,
Clent, we both know that I’m responsible for what’s
happened—as well as Davis’s death. I’m not likely to be that
stupid again, believe me!’
       Clent didn’t reply immediately. They both knew that if a
dangerous power source was discovered in the glacier,
Arden’s archaeological adventure would in fact have saved
Clent and the Base from complete annihilation. If the warrior
had been left in the ice, no one would have been wise to the
possible danger.
       ‘Just get that information back to Base,’ insisted Clent.
‘And no desperate attempts to rescue the girl. She’s the least
of our worries:
       ‘Well I’m no leaving Victoria to that creature up there if
there’s half a chance of saving her!’ snapped Jamie, who had
heard the last remark.
       ‘You will take your orders from Scientist Arden!’ replied
Clent, and disappeared through the door before Arden and
Jamie had stepped into the airlock—and from there into the
Arctic world outside. Once the temperature-sealed door had
closed, even the Doctor couldn’t hear the whine of the airsled
as it skimmed across the snow towards the glacier. He turned
and followed Clent back to the main building.
      Clent was waiting for him in the corridor.
      ‘Come along, Doctor,’ he said genially. ‘Time for you to
show us what you can do.’
      The Doctor forced a smile. He would much rather be
with Jamie on the way to the ice face—but for now at least, his
immediate purpose lay in unravelling the mystery of the
Ioniser malfunction. It had to be prevented from happening
again. ‘By the way,’ he asked, ‘what was Penley working on
when he left?’
      The Doctor noted the effect of his question with interest.
Clent glowered and looked the Doctor in the face. ‘That
information is top secret.’ Turning on his heel, he brusquely
led the way inside.

       Storr thumped the table top angrily. ‘A creature carved
out of the ice! It’s you that’s been in a coma!’
       ‘I’m telling you—it was teal, and terrifying. And I’m not
one for fairy stories—any more than you are. If I’d only seen
it at the glacier, I’d agree with you. But it was inside the Base
as well.’
       Storr stared at him. ‘Leave me out of your fun and
games, then!’ he growled. ‘I’ve got enough to cope with.’
       ‘You’re certainly back to your old cheerful self,’ said
Penley—and then stopped. ‘What’s the matter?’ Storr moved
swiftly towards Penley, and whispered into his ear. ‘Someone’s
outside. Not an animal—human. Trying to get in!’
       ‘They must’ve tracked me back here from the Base.
Quick—hide yourself. We don’t want you carted off to Africa
vet.’
       In a second, Storr had hidden himself, and Penley was
to all intents and purposes alone. Satisfied, he moved to
boldly confront the intruder—and stepped hack in surprise at
the sight of Jan Garrett when he drew back the interior
screen.
      Penley’s eves glanced quickly behind Jan. She shook her
head.
      ‘It’s all right—I’m alone.’
      ‘Well, now you’ve followed me here, what do you want?’
She had moved farther inside; the screen fell back across the
doorway.
      ‘Elric...’ It was months now since anyone had called him
by his first name. Jan had been his equal then: a genuine
friend who showed some understanding of and sympathy for
his clash with Clent—but not, he remembered bitterly, a
fellow protester. Miss Garrett was too ambitious for that.
      ‘You haven’t forgotten my face then, Miss Garrett,’ he
said politely. He glanced at her lapel. ‘No orders of merit yet?
Not even for trying to cope with that stupid machine.’
      ‘You’re the only one who ever understood it,’ she
answered bluntly. ‘We’re in desperate trouble—help us!’
      ‘Us? Does that include Clent?’
      ‘He doesn’t know I’m here.’
      ‘I was going to say—he’s the last person to need me! All
he needs is a mirror—preferably rose-tinted and of the
magnifying sort’
      ‘He’s ready to admit... that you have the know-ledge he
requires. He needs you—it’s the only way he can be sure that
the Ioniser will be permanently stabilised.’
      ‘I’m surprised it hasn’t already run wild, to tell the
truth. Especially when I heard the evacuation broadcast.
Some fluke saved him, I suppose?’
      ‘A stranger came. He’s eccentric—and infuriatingly like
you. He doesn’t think much of computers,’ she added.
      Penley smiled as he remembered the clownish intruder
he’d met over Clent’s unconscious body. ‘Good for him!’
      ‘But he doesn’t know it all!’ protested Jan. ‘Only you
know all the imperfections of Ioniser theory—even this
stranger says it needs an expert!’
      ‘And what does Clent say?’
      ‘You know how proud he is. But his back’s to the wall.
Sooner or later he’s going to have to make his report to the
World Authority...’
      ‘So sooner than have to admit failure, he’d like back so
he can produce a scapegoat! No thanks—let him face the
music himself!’
      ‘It was never easy. It’s ten times worse now. Arden’s
made a fantastic discovery in the glacier.’ She took a deep
breath and stared at Penley. ‘Aliens.’
      To her surprise, Penley didn’t even smile. He leant
forward, his eyes keenly interested. ‘Of course!’ he exclaimed.
‘it must be alien! That thing could never be an earth hybrid or
a throw-back!’ He saw her look of surprise. and explained,
‘I’ve seen it, you understand, at close range—working at the
ice face, blasting great chunks free!’
      There was a small silence before Jan spoke again; this
time her voice sounded strained. ‘We think there may be an
alien spaceship buried inside the ice,’ continued Jan, ‘and if it
contains a nuclear power source...’
      She didn’t need to say any more. But Penley’s brutal
answer shook her.
      ‘Then Clent’s got no option, has he? He daren’t use the
Ioniser any more. He’ll have to evacuate!’
      Jan’s anger flared. ‘You know what’s at stake! Five
thousand years of civilisation! Clent won’t give that up—none
of us will! Even you can’t deny what we’re here for!’ She
paused, trying to control her anger. ‘Doesn’t our civilisation
mean anything to you?’
       ‘I know what it means to Clent!’ replied Penley sharply.
‘It’s a computerised ant heap! Well I’m a man—not a
machine! I’d sooner live with the Ice Age than with his sort of
robot universe!’
       He paused for breath. Jan took out her tranquiliser gun
and pointed it straight at him. ‘You most be desperate,’ he
remarked. ‘But it’ll do no good. You’ll never manage to carry
me even as far as your airsled.’
       ‘I’m willing to try,’ she said, then yelped with pain as
Storr knocked the weapon sharply from her numbed hand.
She turned, stared at Penley’s savage-faced companion, and
drew back nervously, holding her wrist. ‘Who... are you?’ she
whispered.
       ‘A friend,’ said Penley, picking up the gun before Storr
could reach is ‘You’ve said enough, Jan. Now leave us in
peace. I’m not coming back with you—that’s final.’
       Storr turned on Penley. ‘You’re not letting her walk out
of here just like that! Once she gets back there, she’ll have this
place swarming with security!’ Desperate for a weapon, Storr
snatched up a knife—but Penley’s voice brought him to a halt.
       ‘Storr—no!’ The gun was pointing at Story now. He
dropped the knife back on to the table.
       ‘It’s the only way!’
       ‘It’s not my way—or yours.’ replied Penley calmly, then
switched his gaze to Jan. ‘She won’t give us away. I’m sure of
that.’
       ‘I give you my word...’ Jan said quietly.
       Storr turned array, disgusted by Penley’s weakness. ‘I
don’t trust any of them,’ snarled the burly hunter, ‘whatever
they say!’
      Penley pointed to the door with the gun. ‘Return to
Base, Miss Garrets’
      ‘And wait for Doomsday,’ she murmured with a
resigned shrug of her shoulders. She gave him one last look,
then moved to the door while Penley held the screening skin
to one side. For a brief moment they were out of earshot of
Storr, and Penley took his opportunity quickly.
      ‘If you still have trouble from the Ioniser,’ he
murmured, handing Jan back the gun, ‘look up my notes on
the Omega Factor. Good luck...’
      He pushed her outside into the snow, and returned to
the warmth of the stove. Storr was standing by it, his face
unusually thoughtful.
      ‘These aliens,’ he brooded. ‘They really exist, then...’
      Penley was too preoccupied with his own thoughts to
wonder at the fact that Storr was expressing such interest in
what was, after all, a scientific supposition.
      ‘Yes,’ declared Penley firmly, shrugging on his snow
garments, ‘and I intend to find out more about them.’ With
hardly a glance back, he shuffled quickly outside, and began
his uphill trek to the glacier.

       Somehow, Victoria had managed to snatch a few hours
of fitful sleep. Every time she had woken up, Varga had been
moving from one melting block of ice to the other, almost
willing the creatures inside back to life... At dawn she awoke
fully, and, shivering with cold, stared towards the glacier face
in numb disbelief. Only two blocks of ice remained, and these
were rapidly disintegrating as the creatures inside strove to
break out—almost like dragon-men from monstrous frozen
eggs, she thought. Their comrades stood around them,
urging them into life with a chorus of hissing. Frightened yet
fascinated, Victoria began to notice the differences between
them: Varga’s bearing and style of helmet and reptilian
armour seemed of a superior nature to the others. He seemed
to delegate more and more of the physical tasks to a second-
in-command—whose name, Victoria gathered, was Zondal.
He was just as gigantic in stature, but his whole aspect was
fiercer and more repellent; and he snapped at and bullied the
others. The remaining four warriors, including the two who
had at last broken free of the ice, were less elegant and more
clumsy than Varga, whose majestic bearing, seen in daylight,
fitted all Victoria’s ideas of a war-lord. Zondal was harshly
ordering the warriors into a simple formation, ready for
inspection. Varga turned and, seeing Victoria crouched and
awake, strode over to her.
      ‘You see?’ He proudly gestured towards his warriors. ‘It
has worked! All my crew are alive! The ice is our friend!’
      ‘Then you don’t need me,’ replied Victoria. ‘Let me go
back to my own people, please!’
      The Martian warlord stared at her coldly. ‘You will stay
here with us,’ he hissed. ‘If you value your life, obey—and do
not anger us!’
      ‘But I’m no use to you!’ protested Victoria. ‘You don’t
need me —you have your warriors now.’
      Ignoring this plea, Varga turned and summoned his
second-in-command. ‘Zondal!’ As the warrior approached him
and saluted in the Martian fashion—clenched fist to left
shoulder—Varga continued, ‘You will locate our buried
spaceship without delay!’
      ‘That will not be difficult, Commander,’ came the harsh
reply.
      ‘You will then gain access to it by excavating into the
glacier...’ Varga paused. ‘The cave that you will form will also
act as an efficient trap. Proceed!’
      Zondal saluted again, turned, and began to place his
men at key points facing the glacier. Victoria had overheard
Varga’s strategy; her eyes were wide with alarm. ‘But you
don’t need a trap. No one wants to attack you!’ His grim face
was implacable. She pleaded desperately. ‘If you let them,
they may be able to help you. You’ve only got to ask.’
      The warlord looked down at her distraught face
proudly. ‘We do not need help. We are superior!’
      Victoria protested, close to tears. ‘You’d still be dead
and frozen solid in there,’ she cried out, pointing at the
glacier. ‘if it wasn’t for us humans!’
      ‘You are a child!’ he sneered, then turned to watch
Zondal organise the other warriors. Victoria wasn’t going to
be put off that easily.
      ‘But what are you going to do with me?’
      ‘A trap needs bait,’ hissed the warlord. ‘You will be the
bait that draws your friends towards us.’
      ‘No!’ cried Victoria, in dismay. But there was no appeal
against the cruel decision.
      ‘Be silent!’ ordered Varga. The violence in his voice
quelled his prisoner completely. She huddled silently close to
the snow crevasse, sullenly watching Zondal and his men.
      At Varga’s command, the sounding sensors on their
breastplates glowed and pulsed—just as his own had done
when he set out to locate his comrades. Zondal then strode
forward, marked out a target area on the ice face, and gave
the order.
      ‘Sonic destructors at the ready!’
      The four warriors raised their forearms in unison. The
four tubular devices, pointed towards the target area.
      ‘Set to wide impact,’ Zondal paused briefly as his men
made the necessary adjustments. ‘Fire!’ The effect of the
combined sonic weapons was devastating. The ice face crazed,
shattered and erupted into fragments under the impact of the
invisible beams, which clawed their way deeper and deeper
into the heart of the glacier. Inside minutes, the once jagged
mark on the ice had been gouged hollow—then it became a
cave, and still later a massive crystalline cavern...
      Victoria was not the only amazed observer. Hidden by
an outcrop of frozen snow, Penley was taking in the scene
from below. What the purpose of this task force was, he had
no way of knowing—hut they were armed, and had a human
hostage! He looked towards the girl. Rescuing her was not
going to be easy. Until the opportunity arose, he could only
watch, and wait...

      Clent stood in the doorway of the medicare laboratory,
and nodded his head in disbelief. The area that had been
assigned to the Doctor was no longer a neat and tidy desk
unit—it was almost buried under an untidy mountain of torn
and crumpled paper. And the Doctor—totally unaware of
C1ent’s presence—was on his knees, searching desperately for
the vital scrap of calculation... Clent moved forward until he
was standing almost directly in front of the scavenging Doctor.
But he still wasn’t noticed—until the Doctor came to the
particular piece of paper that Clent was standing on. ‘Excuse
me...’ he murmured, and snatched it up. Suddenly his face
broke into a broad grin. ‘Ah! I thought so! Of course! Reverse
the sequence and it gives a density ratio to the power of ten!’
he exclaimed gleefully, throwing his arms into the air and
discarding the items that he had just been grovelling for so
diligently—and at the same time seeing Clent for the first
time.
      ‘Genius at work, I see,’ remarked the Base Leader drily.
‘Wouldn’t it be simpler if you used our computer?’
      The Doctor paused in his frantic scorrving about. and,
catching sight of a marker scribe in Clent’s lapel, snatched it
with a smile.
      ‘Just the thing!’ he exclaimed, and started writing an
extended series of calculations at shoulder height all along the
nearest bare wall. Suddenly the Doctor stopped, bit his lip
thoughtfully, and shook his head. ‘Its not right!’ he muttered.
‘Somethings missing!’
      At that moment, Jan Garrett entered, carrying a small
sheaf of notes. She handed thetn to the Doctor. He took them
eagerly.
      ‘Your instructions were to help the Doctor, Miss
Garrett,’ said Clent coldly. ‘Where have you been?’
      ‘Obtaining these notes from Scientist Penley’s file.’
      ‘You had no authority—’ Clent ranted. But the Doctor
cut short his angry reaction with a cry of triumph.
      ‘That’s it!’ he blurted out, elated. ‘The Omega factor!
Clever chap, your friend Penley. Why did you ever get rid of
him?’
      Clent was too preoccupied with checking the formula to
react to this sharp observation. As he reached the final
equation, his face smiled in admiration and pride.
      ‘It’s amazing! And it was staring us in the face all the
time...’
      Jan hadn’t the same theoretical training as Clent or
Penley. She had been trained to rely on the computer for
formula analysis. ‘Will it work?’ she asked Clent anxiously.
      Clent quickly copied down the essential numbers. ‘I’ll
run it through the computer myself!’ the Leader exclaimed.
and hurried out, followed by Jan and the Doctor. The Doctor,
turning to Jan, sighed and shook his head disapprovingly.
      ‘It doesn’t need running through a computer,’ he
complained, ‘its perfect!’ He glanced mischievously at Jan, as
they hurried along the corridor leading to the control room
and the computer. ‘I deserve an apology,’ he said, and then
added, ‘Penley, too. Thank you for digging out his notes.’
      ‘I thought they might help...’ murmured Jan, leading
the way across to ECCO, where Clent was studying the
computer print-out He was completely absorbed. his eyes
glued to the machine. He made no sign of hearing the
ensuing exchange between the Doctor and Jan.
      ‘Pity Penley turned traitor...’ remarked the Doctor
innocently. Jan’s reaction was immediate, and angry.
      ‘He was not a traitor! He’s the most brilliant scientist we
have, and if you—’
      The Doctor cut her short and smiled gently. ‘I’m glad
he’s still got some friends here at Base. I needed to know—’
      ‘It works!’ cried Clent. ‘The computer says it works!’
      Suddenly, the static-distorted voice of Arden crackled
out from the video-communicator. The geologist’s hooded
face showed fuzzily on the videoscreen. and he spoke
urgently.
      ‘Glacier Task Unit to Base,’ he called, ‘Arden to Leader
Clent. Over, over!’
      Clent moved quickly to establish contact. ‘Clent here,
Arden. Report’
      ‘We’ve arrived at the glacier site...’ Arden’s words faded
in a sudden rush of static, then cleared again. ‘There’s
something strange here. Can you hear me?’
      ‘Bad atmospherics,’ replied Clent, emphasising his
words for clarity. ‘You’ll have to speak up. We’ll try and boost
you...’ He waved a vague hand towards Jan, and she tried to
adjust the controls.
      ‘What has he found?’ asked the Doctor impatiently.
      ‘The ice face,’ crackled Arden’s disembodied voice. ‘It’s
been excavated... into a sort of cave.’
      ‘Excavated?’ queried Clent.
      ‘How?’ demanded the Doctor tensely.
      ‘Not a drill,’ replied Arden, ‘nor explosives... some sort
of power tool, I’d say.’
      ‘Is there any sign of a space craft?’ demanded Clent.
      Arden’s blunt answer brought them all forward, tense
and expectant.
      ‘Yes... at the back of... the excavation... there’s what
looks like—a metal door!’
      Clent looked first at Jan, and then at the Doctor. The
space craft theory was right—but would its propulsion unit
bring the danger that they feared?
      ‘The place seems deserted...’ Arden continued. ‘But the
Ice Warrior couldn’t have done this... alone.’
      ‘Don’t get any closer than you need,’ warned the Doctor.
      ‘Arden, get those radiation readings quickly—and come
back here at the double! Don’t take any chances!’

      For once, Arden didn’t need Clent’s warning. He
shuddered as he began to set up the radiation detector,
apprehension mingling with the enjoyment of discovery.
Jamie looked about, but he could see no sign of the warrior,
or that Victoria had ever been here...
      ‘We’ll take the readings first, Jamie...’ murmured Arden,
‘and then we’ll have a look round outside for Victoria. All
right?’ He gave the Scots lad a quick smile.
      ‘Fair enough,’ agreed Jamie. He knew the importance of
the mission Clent had ordered; but he was glad that Arden
shared his own feelings about Victoria.
      ‘What readings are these, then?’ he asked, as they
unwound the power pack connections.
      ‘Radiation—magnetic field—ion density... it won’t take
long.’
      ‘Just as well,’ muttered Jamie. ‘I don’t much like this
place—nor that door.’ He stared at it, frowning. ‘I wonder
what’s inside it?’
      Arden threw him a quick, amused glance. ‘You don’t
think I’m leaving here until I’ve had a go at opening it, do
you? There’s never been a discovery like this before—’
      They were the last words he ever spoke. At Varga’s
silent command, the warriors stepped out of hiding and
opened fire. Victoria, her mouth smothered by Varga’s
mighty fist, could only watch in helpless terror as Arden took
the full brunt of the massive burst of sonic power. His body
seemed to shimmer, almost disintegrate, beneath the invisible
blast of energy. For a split second, he seemed suspended like
a broken puppet, his face crumpled in agonised surprise.
Then he slumped to the ground beside Jamie, as though
hurled there by a giant hand. The ambush complete. Varga
released the girl. She stood trembling, staring at the two
sprawled bodies on the cavern floor, her face wide-eyed with
misery. ‘You’ve... killed them!’
                     6
         Under the Moving Mountain
       The Doctor prowled round the Ioniser Room like a
caged animal, his puckish features clearly showing his deep
anxiety. Since completing the Ionisation formula, he’d been
able to think of nothing but Victoria—and now nearly an
hour had passed since Arden and Jamie had last made
contact.
       The Doctor paused before the video communicator. He
was just about to operate it, when Clent strode into the room,
bursting with elation at the compliments showered on him by
the World Scientific Director. Seeing the Doctor’s intention,
he moved forward and intercepted his hand at the video
controls. and questioned him with a frown.
       ‘What are you doing?’
       ‘I’m worried. Arden and Jamie should’ve reported in
again by now!’
       ‘You know what Arden is like,’ he replied cheerfully—
‘full of scientific curiosity...’
       ‘I think we should find out,’ suggested the Doctor, again
reaching for the video.
       ‘If you don’t mind,’ replied Clent, reaching the controls
first, ‘I’ll handle this.’ He adjusted the controls and spoke
crisply into the machine. ‘Base to Glacier Task Force—Leader
Clent calling scientist Arden. Arden, do you read me!’
       There was response other than the harsh surge of static.
The video screen was blank. Clent frowned, and spoke again
more brusquely. ‘Arden—answer me! Arden!’
      The Doctor’s mouth tightened ‘Something is wrong...’
he muttered. ‘I’ll never forgive myself if anything’s happened
to those two youngsters.’
      Jan entered briskly, still smiling from Clent’s
achievement. Her face fell when she saw the two men staring
anxiously at the faintly flickering videoscreen. ‘What’s wrong?’
she asked.
      ‘No reply from Arden’ Clent tried to brighten the
gloom. ‘At least we’ve made the breakthrough with the
Ioniser!’ He beamed at the Doctor. ‘The World Director
assured me that there’ll be suitable... recognition for all the
members of our little group! We’ve got that machine under
complete control at last!’ But his face fell at the Doctor’s reply.
      ‘What a pity we shan’t be able to use it then.’
      Clent and Miss Garrett looked at him blankly for a
moment—then the truth of his statement sunk in.
      ‘You’re forgetting that Arden hasn’t yet completed his
mission,’ the Doctor continued. ‘And until we know the facts
about that alien spaceship, we daren’t go on!’

      Penley had watched the ambush in the ice cave with
horror. Minutes after the aliens had retreated into the
doorway in the ice, dragging the girl with them, he had
managed to pull himself together enough to scurry silently
across to the two crumpled bodies. To his astonishment, he
had found that Jamie, partly protected from the warriors’
deadly fire-power by Arden’s body, was still alive! Summoning
up the strength to drag the lad’s limp form to the waiting
airsled, he had brought him back to Storr’s hide-out. He
could do nothing to save the girl—but as he sped back to
safety, his mind raced. What was behind the door in the ice?
      Storr’s immediate reaction to Jamie was predictable and
fierce. ‘Why bring him back here?’ he growled. ‘Another
mouth to feed.’ But he changed his tune when Penley showed
him the spoils he had brought on the airsled: food, a first-aid
kit, and sleeping bags. He listened, frowning, to Penley’s
description of the cave and the door set into the ice.
      ‘It has to be a space craft of some kind! And big enough
to hold six of those hulking brutes—as well as the girl!’
      Suddenly, Jamie groaned, and half-opened his
bloodshot eyes. ‘Where... am I?’ he whispered hoarsely.
      ‘Never you mind,’ growled Storr. ‘Somewhere safe...’
      ‘You’re suffering from severe shock, lad,’ soothed
Penley. ‘Take it easy.’
      ‘What happened? Where’s Arden?’ Jamie’s eyes flicked
nervously from Storr to Penley.
      ‘Dead,’ replied Penley quietly. ‘You were both shot
down by the warriors. He got the worst of it.’ He frowned,
remembering that horrific moment. ‘Some sort of ray gun, I’d
say.’
      ‘So we failed then...’ Jamie murmured bitterly.
      ‘Came to rescue the girl—is that it?’ demanded Story.
      Jamie tried to sit up, his eyes bright. ‘Have ye seen
Victoria? Is she alive?’
      The effort was too much and he fell back—but Penley’s
words eased the pain. ‘Yes, she’s alive all right—but you just
take it easy, lad.’ His face looked grave. ‘She’s a prisoner.’
      ‘Then we’ve got to save her!’ exclaimed Jamie. ‘Help
me—please!’ He began to slip back into unconsciousness.
      ‘We’ll discuss it later,’ soothed Penley.
      Storr looked from the prostrate boy to Penley, who
shook his head solemnly.
      ‘I don’t know what his chances are, Storr,’ remarked the
scientist. ‘As for the girl...’ He looked down at Jamie sadly,
‘there’s nothing we can do...’

      Inside the spaceship, Victoria was waiting for her
opportunity. Although still feigning unconsciousness, she was
now sharply alert and determined to escape. She had to know
if Jamie was alive or dead—and somehow she had to let the
Doctor know about the aliens and the plan she had overheard
them discussing earlier.
      ‘Will there be more Earthlings. Commander?’ Zondal
had asked, obviously only too ready to kill again.
      ‘Not yet,’ Varga had replied. ‘If more come, we know we
can destroy them. If no others seek this girl, then we know
they are too few to resist us.’
      ‘Let us kill her now. It will make no difference!’
      ‘No! We may need her voice to lure them here.’ The
majestic head had nodded towards the complex machinery.
‘You have a more urgent task, Zondal: the propulsion unit—
we need it to break free of the ice.’
      The warlord had then held up the portable power pack
he had removed from the radiation detector unit outside after
killing Arden. ‘This may help us,’ he hissed, and strode across
to the compact machine section out of Victoria’s line of vision.
      Now, at last, she was alone. All the other warriors were
preparing the spaceship for action—and the way to the
airlock was clear. As long as she remembered how to work the
controls! Stealthily, she crept towards the door. Her hand
brushed the sensor control. With the faintest of whispers, the
door opened, then shut automatically after her. Inside the
airlock, she quickly found the outer door control. At her
touch, it opened—and she was free!
      But her immediate plan was to find Jamie. She ran to
where he and Arden had fallen—and froze in shock and
amazement. Jamie was gone! Her face softened at the sight of
the geologist’s body—but she had no time to lose. With a
simple gesture, she covered the dead man’s face, then looked
wildly about her. Jamie couldn’t have been killed after all—
but he might well be injured or severely wounded. She had to
find him! But she saw the deep grooves in the snow—as if a
heavy object had been dragged away—perhaps by a wild
animal, she speculated with a shudder.
      Just then her eye fell on Arden’s dead wrist, and her
heart jumped. His wrist-video! If she could only make it work!
It could make contact with the Base and the Doctor! With a
silent apology to the dead man for the necessary theft, she
quickly eased the device from his already stiffening arm.
Scurrying into the shelter of a spur of ice that hid her from
the Martian space craft, she studied the tiny controls. To her
delight, there was only one—the device must be pre-set.
      ‘Doctor—Leader Clent—Miss Garrett!’ she cried in an
urgent whisper, ‘this is Victoria! Please—somebody answer
me!’
      She wasn’t to know that her every more was being
watched by Varga and Zondal on the spaceship’s video
system, and that even her whispered call for help was being
picked up and relayed dearly to the vigilant warlord. He
laughed coldly.
      ‘The girl has courage,’ he hissed, ‘but she is stupid to
think that we would not watch her every move.’
      ‘She will betray us, Commander!’ declared Zondal. He
pointed to the sonic cannon that could operate from the side
of the ship at the touch of the button beneath his cruel list.
‘She most be destroyed!’
       ‘No, Zondal,’ ordered the warlord. ‘Let her talk first.
There are things we need to know.’
       Just as Victoria ss about to give up in tearful frustration,
a small burst of sound came from the tiny communicator. The
familiar face of the Doctor appeared on its screen.
       ‘Victoria! Where are you?’ he asked frantically. ‘Are you
all right? Where’s Jamie—and Arden?’
       Gulping back the tears that threatened to overcome her,
Victoria briefly described the situation. ‘I don’t know where
Jamie is—but Arden is dead!’ She took a deep breath, trying
to thrust that terrifying memory from her mind. ‘It was the
Ice Warriors. They have a terrible weapon—a sort of ray gun.’
Her voice began to rise hysterically; she tried desperately to
control her shaking hands. ‘Doctor they’re from Mars!
They’re vicious—ruthless!’
       Clent’s cool voice cut across her panic, and brought her
under control once more. ‘Keep calm, girl!’ he rapped. ‘We
must have facts! Tell us about the space-ship! Quickly!’
       A sudden wave of anger swept over Victoria. She almost
shouted at the calm face which stared back at her from the
tiny video. ‘Don’t you understand? They’ve killed Arden, and
Jamie’s disappeared! Don’t you even care?’
       ‘Of course we care, Victoria,’ came the Doctor’s gentle
reply. ‘But we need to know something about that spaceship’s
propulsion unit—it’s vital.’
       ‘Propulsion unit?’ queried Victoria blankly.
       Clent’s face reappeared; his voice was sharp. ‘Engines,
girl—engines!’
       ‘Oh, I see...’ answered Victoria tiredly. ‘I think they’re
repairing the engines now.’
       ‘What kind are they?’ demanded Clent urgently.
‘Reactor turbine—ion jet—anti-gravity? Think, girl!’
       Before Victoria could answer, a mighty shudder shook
the ground, bringing a flurry of ice down from the excavated
ceiling, and knocking Victoria breathless to the floor.
       ‘Victoria—what’s happening?’ came the Doctor’s voice.
‘Are you all right?’
       ‘Yes, I’m all right, Doctor..: she replied. ‘It’s the
glacier—we’re right inside it, and it’s moving all the time!’
       ‘The engines, Victoria—’ broke in Clent’s demanding
tones, ‘for heaven’s sake, tell us about the engines!’
       ‘Give me a chance!’ protested Victoria. ‘I’m trying to
think!’
       But Varga had beard enough. With a curt gesture, he
ordered one of the warriors to the airlock door.
       ‘She must say no more. Turoc, bring the girl in here—
quickly!’
       Zondal turned to his commander. ‘It would be easier—
and quicker—to kill her now.’
       ‘You do not understand, Zondal,’ breathed Varga
harshly. ‘There are questions she must answer! Why are the
Earthlings so interested in our engines? Why are they afraid?’
He turned away from the viewing screen for a moment and
looked thoughtfully back towards the engine room. ‘We must
have these answers. Zondal,’ he hissed—‘and quickly!’
       In that brief moment, if he or Zondal had been
watching, they would have seen Victoria’s tense re-action to
the opening of the door in the ice. She spoke quickly into the
communicator, and prepared to make her escape. ‘There’s
someone coming from the spaceship. I’m going to have to run
for it!’
       ‘Try to get back to Base. Victoria!’ urged the Doctor—
but Victoria was no longer listening. With a tightening of her
throat, she realised that the Ice Warrior now standing in the
open airlock was cutting off her escape route out of the cave
and down the hillside to the Base. Turoc paused and, turning
in a slow arc, activated his radar detector. As it started to
pulse, Victoria looked desperately about her and, without
further hesitation, took her only escape route—through the
tunnels that led deeper into the glacier...
      Turoc had not seen her swift escape from the cave—but
his finding device registered an alien presence moving
through the maze of ice grottoes beyond the spaceship. He
followed with great crushing strides, smashing his way into
the main tunnel, the finding device guiding him relentlessly
on. Ahead of him, running and clambering desperately over
the debris of fallen ice, Victoria looked for an escape route
that would take her out of the mountain of ice and into the
open snow. But whichever way she turned, the Ice Warrior
was behind her, driving her further and further into the heart
of the glacier. She stumbled; her heart sank. There was no
escape—she was trapped!

      Clent turned bitterly away from the blank screen, and
ground his fist into the palm of his hand. ‘It’s hopeless! We
know nothing! We’re helpless!’ He turned on the Doctor, who
was dialling a chemical formula on the automatic dispenser.
‘What on earth are you doing? There’s no time for
playthings!’
      ‘The position isn’t good, I agree,’ mused the Doctor.
‘Jamie has vanished. Victoria is on the run. And we still don’t
know anything useful about that spacecraft’s propulsion unit,
do we?’ The machine delivered two small phials into his
waiting hand. He smiled. ‘Perhaps this will help.’
      ‘Ammonium sulphide?’ asked Clent in astonishment.
‘You’re crazy!’
      ‘Am I really? Think a moment, will you? We know these
aliens are from Mars. What do we know of their planet’s
atmospheric conditions? Mmm?’
      It was Jan who answered, just as puzzled as Clent. ‘It’s
chiefly nitrogen, with virtually no oxygen or hydrogen.’
      ‘So they wouldn’t enjoy sniffing this little mixture, would
they?’
      Clent looked intrigued, though not convinced. ‘You
don’t mean you’re going to use this stuff as a form of toxic
gas!’ He paused. ‘And anyway, how do you propose to get it to
them?’
      ‘I’ll take it myself. Oh, I’m aware we’ve lost Arden
already—but I know what to expect, remember. He didn’t.’
He smiled at the two innocent-looking phials, one in each
hand. ‘That’s why I’m going prepared.’
      Clent glared at him furiously. ‘I refuse to let you go! I
dare not lose any more personnel!’
      ‘My dear chap, I’m not even on your pay roll. The
Ioniser will work very well without me—and after all, someone
has to identify that alien propulsion unit, don’t they?’ He
paused and grinned. ‘Who better than me?’
      ‘Very well, Doctor—on your own head be it. I agree—
but strictly under protest!’
      ‘Thank you. I hoped you’d see it my way. Now—a small
matter of communication!’
      Jan produced a wrist-video, demonstrating it as she
strapped it on to the Doctor’s wrist. ‘This is identical to the
one that Victoria was using,’ she explained.
      Clone looked amazed. ‘Is that all you’re taking?’ he
gasped, indicating the wrist-video and the two phials.
      ‘There’s nothing else I need, is there?’ replied the
Doctor innocently. ‘What do you suggest?’
      ‘Weapons, man!’ Clent exclaimed, ‘Those warriors are
armed!’
      ‘But I’m not going there to fight a duel. That isn’t what
I’ve got in mind at all.’
      Clent stared at him blankly. What was this ridiculous
man up to now? As though the question had been asked
aloud, the Doctor promptly supplied the answer.
      ‘I’m going to let them take me prisoner.’

       Somehow Victoria had managed to evade the on-coming
Ice Warrior by scrambling through openings so small that the
alien couldn’t follow her—but he had simply broken his way
through the ice walls, blindly following the quickening sonic
pulse. The heart of the glacier seemed like a gigantic maze,
twisting and turning upon itself, perforated with crystal-line
hollows and pockets, chimneys and tunnels. Suddenly forced
into what looked like a cul-de-sac, Victoria looked about her
desperately. There was only one way out: through a narrow,
crevice which was scarcely wide enough to take her body. But
the ice was so thick that even the massive Turoc would take
hours to break it down—time enough for her to escape!
       She had almost succeeded in wriggling through, feet
first, when she heard the crushing approach of the Ice
Warrior!      Panicking,      she    dropped      the    precious
communicator—her only link with the Base, and human help.
She knew that she must have the device without it she would
be utterly lost. It lay on the floor only a yard away. Stretching
back through the crevice, she could almost reach it—the effort
wracked her weary muscles to breaking point; the ice became
a living creature, creaking and groaning all around her. And
beyond the rumbling menace of the ice, she could hear the
steady, crunching tread of Turoc’s feet—and the menacing
hiss of his approaching breath.
      Abandoning the struggle to reach the communicator,
Victoria tried to draw, back out of his reach—but she was
stuck! With horror, she realised that she couldn’t move! Then,
just as the Ice Warrior’s massive fist clamped down on her
wrist, there came a shudder and a roar of moving ice! The
body of the Ice Warrior was crushed by the ceiling of the
tunnel as it fell in on top of him! When the moment of terror
had passed, and the eerie silence returned, Victoria suddenly
realised that the grip of the crevice round her body had
loosened—she could move! Now was her chance of escape—
before another movement of the glacier brought down an
avalanche of ice on top of her, too! And then she discovered
the grim truth: her puny strength couldn’t budge the grip of
Turoc’s mighty fist—even in death he held her a prisoner in
the heart of the moving mountain of ice!
                        7
                Diplomat in Danger
       ‘His fever’s gone,’ observed Storr brusquely, looking
down at Jamie’s sleeping body. ‘His body’s young. It’ll soon
heal.’
       ‘Yes, of course it will,’ replied Penley, but he didn’t
sound convinced.
       ‘What are you worried about then?’
       Penley frowned, remembering the Ice Warriors’ vicious
attack. ‘The weapons they used...’ he brooded, ‘peculiar...’ He
snapped out of his thoughts and faced Storr squarely. ‘The
fact is I’m afraid there might be some neural damage. He has
no reflex response from the waist down.’
       Storr had seen spinal paralysis in animals and men
before; the only hope of survival would be intensive care and
proper treatment. Was this an excuse for Penley to return to
the Base? ‘How can you be sure, it he’s unconscious?’
       ‘I’m not—yet. When he wakes, and tries to walk—then
we’ll know.’
       ‘And if it’s bad?’
       ‘I’ll have to get him to the Base,’ he said bluntly.
       ‘No!’ cried Storr fiercely.
       ‘For the boy’s sake! Do you want him to end up a
cripple?’
       Storr fell silent. He knew the other answer wasn’t easy,
but his hatred of the scientists and their degrading prover
forced him to make the suggestion. ‘There’s another way to
save him—to befriend the aliens!’
      Penley stared at him in disbelief. ‘Don’t be a fool!
They’re ruthless warriors, trained to kill!’
      ‘In self defence!’ growled Storr. ‘I know what it’s like,
remember? If their weapons did this to the boy, they’ll know
both cause and cure—it’s obvious.’
      ‘What makes you think you can talk to them?’
demanded Penley. ‘They killed Arden!’
      ‘They were afraid! You said yourself that he’d set up
some scientific gear or other—they probably thought he was
going to attack them! Why shouldn’t they defend themselves?
I would!’
      ‘But the boy isn’t one of their kind!’ Penley replied.
‘He’s human—one of us!’
      ‘When I explain that he’s not a scientist, they’ll
understand,’
      ‘Wait!’ Penley cried. ‘At least try to—’
      He never completed the sentence. A single brutal blow
from Storr’s encased arm knocked him to the ground
unconscious. Storr crouched by him long enough to make
sure the damage was only temporary. Grunting, ‘Peace at last’
he began his preparations for the journey to the glacier.

       In the engine room of the spaceship, Zondal was making
a critical report to his commander.
       ‘All fuel has degenerated beyond use,’ the lieutenant
stated grimly—’including emergency reserves. ‘That would
normally take thousands of years,’ whispered Varga. ‘The
Earthlings were right.’
       ‘Without fuel, we are helpless!’ exclaimed Zondal. ‘We
will never be able to break free from the ice!’
       ‘Is that what they fear, Zondal?’ the Martian warlord
queried. ‘That our energy source could explode? If that is
so—if they understand such physical principles—they may
have developed a similar form of reactor!’
      ‘And they will have the fuel elements we need!’ agreed
Zondal eagerly. ‘They must be made to give the fuel to us!’
      ‘That is where the girl will be of use,’ replied Varga. ‘She
will give us information, and help us bargain for our needs...’
      ‘But she has not been found. Turoc has not yet
returned.’
      ‘We have no time to waste,’ rasped his commander. ‘We
must make other plans.’ He looked through into the control
room, and made an instant decision. ‘Zondal’—he
commanded—‘unship the sonic cannon!’ The cruel laughter
coughed from his armoured throat. ‘The Earthlings will not
argue with that!’
      Outside the excavated cave, Storr paused in amazement.
To tear a whole cave out of the guts of the glacier—that had
taken some doing! He moved forward stealthily until he was
inside the cave and within sight of the metal door. The place
was deserted. Skirting its perimeter he paused in a side cave,
struggling to think of the best way to make contact—he didn’t
intend falling into a trap laid for visiting scientists!
      Suddenly, he heard a distant, plaintive voice, human
and female, crying for help! As the faint cry was repeated, he
realised that it wasn’t coming from the metal door, or from
the main cave itself, but from within the glacier. Catching
sight of a tunnel-like gap in the darkest shadows of the cave in
which he was standing, he moved towards its entrance and
listened again. Yes, it was a woman’s voice—a girl’s!
      ‘Help...!’ came a desperate cry, ‘Help me...!’
      It was unlikely to be a trap, set so far away from the
alien’s spaceship, and the cry itself sounded genuine enough.
Besides, if it was the girl, perhaps she could tell him more
about these unearthly creatures, before he confronted them.
The glacier shuddered, and he saw he’d have to act quickly.
Dodging the fragments of ice that fell spasmodically, he
hurried towards the calling voice.
      The sound was closer now; and as Storr emerged into a
tunnel almost filled with ice debris, he saw Victoria, gesturing
towards her wrist. Clamped round it was a metallic fist, which
was holding her prisoner! As more fragments of ice rained
upon them, Storr worked quickly to force the alien’s iron grip
apart. Victoria looked at him hopefully.
      ‘Can you get me free?’ she pleaded.
      ‘What happened?’ Storr was finding the job more
difficult than he thought, with only one arm in use.
      ‘I ran away,’ explained Victoria. ‘He’d just grabbed me
when the roof fell, and crushed him.’
      Storr flicked a puzzled glance at the girl’s face. ‘Why run
away?’
      It was Victoria’s turn to look surprised. ‘The warriors—
they’re evil!’ she exclaimed. ‘They killed Arden—they want to
destroy the Base, too, I think!’
      Storr paused, suddenly interested. ‘They’re against the
scientists then!’
      ‘I tried to tell them about the Ioniser—but they seem to
think that it’s some kind of weapon of destruction!’ Storr’s
eyes turned fiercely upon her.
      ‘That’s just what it is!’ he growled. ‘It’ll destroy the
whole of civilisation!’ His face was fanatical.
      ‘But the Ioniser is meant to hold back the ice!’ The
ragged pirate gave her a fierce glance, then pulled her free of
the crevasse and the Ice Warrior.
      ‘Come on,’ he said, leading the way back to the main
rave. ‘We’ve got no time to lose!’
      Victoria pulled at his arm, urgently. ‘Not that way!’ she
cried. ‘The Ice Warriors—
      ‘You want to help your young friend, don’t you?’
demanded Story. Victoria stared at him, then almost laughed
with relief.
      ‘Jamie?’ she cried. ‘You know where he is? Is he hurt?’
      Her face fell at Storr’s reply.
      ‘He’s desperately ill. I was going for help when I heard
you—’
      ‘Help?’ asked Victoria, confused. ‘Here?’
      ‘From the aliens in that spaceship,’ Storr told her, then,
seeing her fear, went on. ‘We’ll be all right—they’ll listen to
me. I’m against the scientists, like they are—so we’ve got
something in common for a start!’
      ‘You don’t know what you’re doing!’ cried Victoria,
trying to draw back, ‘No—I wont go to them! They’ll kill me!’
      Storr was in no mood for argument. Grasping Victoria’s
arm, he bundled her brutally along the ice tunnel, and away
from the imminent avalanche. ‘They’re against Clent and his
sort and the Ioniser—that’s good enough for me!’ he growled.
‘And if you stay here, you’ll die anyway! Come on!’
      Victoria followed Storr out to the safety of the main
cavern. But there they stopped—abruptly. Facing them, guns
at the ready, were Varga and his warriors—and they looked
anything but friendly. Storr seeing them for the first time, at
last understood why Penley and Victoria had been afraid.
Fearsome brutes, no doubt about that—but what allies they
would make against the scientists! Varga stepped closer to
Victoria and spoke, his voice harsh. ‘Where is Turoc?’ he
demanded.
      Aware how close she and Storr were to death, Victoria
answered weakly, ‘He was crushed to death... by the ice.’ She
sensed Varga’s rising anger, and quailed before it. ‘It wasn’t
my fault!’ she cried.
      ‘I gave you your life,’ the warlord hissed venomously,
‘but you ran away. Because of that, one of my men is dead!’
He gestured to Isbur, the warrior closest to the girl. ‘Take her
inside!’
      Victoria didn’t resist—there was no point. But as she
entered the spaceship’s gleaming airlock, lsbur’s fist upon her
arm, she threw Storr one last anguished look.
      With a broad smile, Storr extended his hand to the Ice
Warrior. The gesture was ignored.
      ‘Identify yourself!’ rasped the alien leader.
      ‘My name’s Storr,’ stated the hunter pleasantly. ‘I’m a
scavenger—a Loyalist!’
      Varga was interested—Storr could see that. ‘You are
from the Base?’ the Martian whispered keenly.
      ‘No fear! I’m against the scientists! They’re devils, the lot
of them!’
      ‘Then you know nothing of their machines?’
      ‘I don’t want to! They’re out to destroy our world—and
I want to help you destroy them! I’m on your side!’
      It was Zondal who spoke now, as Varga lost interest.
‘What good are you to us?’
      ‘I know the land here—lived here all my life. I can help
you!’ But he had seen Varga’s chilling response, and knew the
truth at last.
      ‘You are not a scientist...’ uttered the warlord, coldly,
‘therefore you are useless and unnecessary.’ He gave a nod—
and Storr crumpled before him, scythed dawn by the sonic
guns.
      ‘Now to question the girl...’ Varga whispered hoarsely,
and turned back towards the spaceship.
       Clent turned from studying the Ioniser monitors to find
Miss Garrett standing at his shoulder. Her face was tense as
she passed him a seismic print-out. ‘The glacier is moving
again!’
       Clent drew in a sharp breath. ‘The fifth surge today,’ he
exclaimed, and moved across to the electronic wall chart that
marked the glacier’s grim progress. ‘The Ioniser isn’t holding
it...’
       ‘We’re down to half power,’ Jan pointed out nervously.
‘We daren’t go above that level...’
       Clent’s features tightened with anger. ‘If only we knew
what was inside that spaceship. Until we do, we’re helpless!’
       Because of the one missing factor, they couldn’t put
their problem to ECCO, the all-knowing computer; Clent had
not even notified World Control—for him, an unprecedented
omission.
       ‘We most decide soon,’ insisted Jan.
       ‘Not until we know the facts, Miss Garrett!’
       ‘Supposing the Doctor fails?’ she demanded. ‘Suppose
we never find out?’
       ‘We’ll face that when we have to.’
       ‘But we must be prepared! There has to be a
contingency plan if everything else goes wrong!’
       Clent looked at Jan dispassionately. ‘Nothing will go
wrong. The Doctor will succeed. He has to!’

      When the Doctor at last reached the ice cavern, he
found Penley crouched over Storr’s dead body. After a
moment’s pause, Penley covered the lifeless face for the last
time.
       Penley attempted to explain. ‘Storr came up here to talk
to the aliens. He thought they’d be able to do some good for
the youngster I found here.’
       ‘Jamie?’ asked the Doctor eagerly. ‘You know where he
is? And what about the girl—Victoria?’ Penley threw a brief
glance at the spaceship door. ‘She must still be inside there
with them. The lad’s back at our hide-out. I think he’ll be all
right, but...’ His voice trailed away sadly.
       The Doctor looked at him soberly. ‘Better let me know
the worst. Is it bad?’
       ‘He must’ve been shot by the alien ray guns. There may
be some spinal damage—paralysis.
       The Doctor looked grim. ‘Then there’s only one place
for him, isn’t there?’
       Penley nodded. ‘The medicare centre at Base...’
       ‘Take my airsled,’ the Doctor said firmly. ‘Get Jamie on
to it and take him back there—if it’s as bad as you say.’
       ‘It’s his only hope.’
       He lurched against the Doctor as the icy ground
shuddered beneath them. ‘The glacier’s moving,’ observed
the Doctor.
       ‘It’s getting worse,’ agreed Penley. ‘Let’s get out of here!’
       ‘You carry on,’ came the reply, ‘I’ve got a job to do.’
       Penley nodded towards the spaceship door. ‘In there?’
       The Doctor nodded. ‘There’s Victoria, for one thing—
and for another, Clent has to know whether the alien reactor
unit will explode if the Ioniser is used properly.’ As Penley
stared at him in surprise, the Doctor smiled, ‘I adapted your
notes on the Omega Factor.’
       ‘Did you now...’ murmured Penley, with new respect.
       ‘But you’re the chap to handle it,’ insisted the Doctor.
‘Do you think you can cope with Clent?’
      ‘I dare say I can manage to stay sane.’ He looked down
at Storr’s body. ‘I’ll take Storr back to his hide-out with me.
He’d’ve preferred it there.’
      With that, he dragged his friend to the Doctor’s airsled.
      When Penley was well clear of the glacier, the Doctor
activated the tiny communicator. ‘Doctor to Clent.’ he called.
‘I’m going in now, old chap. Wish me luck.’ Then he tucked
the device away.
      With that, he moved boldly towards the sleek metallic
door, and hammered on it with his list. ‘Open this door at
once!’ he demanded brazenly. ‘Open up, I say!’ To his
surprise, the door opened immediately, and he stepped inside
the airlock. It closed behind him, and he waited for the inner
door to open—but it did not. Instead, a harsh voice spoke
from a loudspeaker set in the ceiling panel.
      ‘Identify yourself!’
      The Doctor spoke sternly. ‘I am a diplomatic messenger.
I don’t answer questions until I am properly received by a
suitable person!’
      ‘You will answer now!’ snapped the voice. The Doctor
folded his arms, tilted his chin up defiantly, and remained
silent.
      ‘Unless you answer inside ten seconds,’ the voice
continued, ‘the atmospheric pressure will be reduced to
zero—a perfect vacuum.’
      The Doctor’s face filled with alarm.
      ‘In that condition, your Earthling body will explode.
Countdown commences now. Ten... nine... eight...’
      The Doctor’s eyes found the atmospheric level indicator
by his side—the pressure was decreasing fast!
      ‘If you insist,’ he shouted acidly. ‘But I don’t think much
of your hospitality!’ The pressure gauge sank lower. ‘I’m a
scientist—from the Base—I want to help you!’ The level
stopped sinking, and. a second later, it rose to normal. The
inner door slid open, and the Doctor found himself
confronted by the Martian warlord inside the spaceship.
Flanking him were several other Ice Warriors.
      ‘You are a scientist?’ queried Varga coldly. ‘You do not
look like one!’ he gazed at the Doctor’s eccentric dress.
      ‘He looks more like the human we destroyed—the
scavenger,’ remarked Zondal sourly. ‘He could be an
imposter. We should destroy him also!’
      ‘If you kill me, you’ll ruin any chance you might have of
escape! Or perhaps you intend to stay inside this glacier
permanently.’ Varga stepped forward arrogantly. ‘I am
Varga, the Martian warlord. Explain how you can help us!’
      ‘There are certain conditions that have to be met first,’
insisted the Doctor.
      ‘You are our prisoner!’ hissed the warlord furiously. ‘It
is I who set conditions and ask questions!’
      The Doctor held up his hand, and smiled. ‘Listen!’ The
faintest of tremors ran through the spaceship. Its sound
sensors were picking up the creak and grind of the ice
mountain outside. ‘It is you who are the prisoners,’ the Doctor
pointed out gently, ‘... and I who can set you free!’
      ‘On my terms!’ snarled the warlord. He gestured to
Isbur. ‘Bring the girl!’ Turning back to the Doctor, he
continued. ‘Now we have two hostages, we make the bargains
here!’
      ‘You haven’t got time to bargain—before long, the
glacier will crush and destroy you and your ship! But we have
a device that can melt the ice and release you!’
      ‘We know of this device,’ hissed Varga. ‘The girl has told
us its name—the Ioniser.’ His voice changed to bitter anger.
‘Do not try to trick us! We know it is a weapon aimed to
destroy us!’
      Before the Doctor could answer this charge, Victoria was
led in by Isbur. When she saw the Doctor, her face fell. ‘Oh,
Doctor, they’ve got you too!’
      ‘Don’t worry, Victoria, we’re not beaten yet.’ He smiled
cheerfully. ‘Jamie’s safe and well, for a start!’
      Victoria’s face flooded with relief and hope, but Varga’s
harsh whisper brought the Doctor back to the nub of the
matter.
      ‘If what you say is true, why have you not freed us
before?’
      The Doctor’s eye flicked beyond the Martian to what
looked like a complex technical area. Could it be the engine
room? Somehow he had to find out without giving his hand
away! He hesitated. ‘Er... there are certain difficulties.’
      But the Doctor’s probing glance had confirmed the
Warlord’s suspicions. ‘You are afraid of us!’ he exclaimed
keenly. ‘You are afraid our ship will explode!’
      The Doctor tried to put the problem simply. ‘If the
Ioniser causes a nuclear holocaust, it’ll defeat its original
purpose—to hold hack the glaciers!’
      ‘That is what I suspected...’ breathed the warlord, and
then gave that peculiar choking laugh that so often meant
danger. ‘You dare not act against us!’
      ‘We don’t want to harm you, or your ship,’ repeated the
Doctor irritably. ‘I keep telling you, our action would release
it—you’d be free!’
      ‘But if the ice melted too quickly,’ Zondal pointed out,
‘there would he severe flooding.’
      ‘And our engines would be useless!’ hissed Varga. ‘We
would be at your mercy—and there would be no escape!’
      ‘You can walk out of here now,’ suggested the Doctor.
‘You’d be safe—even if your spacecraft was destroyed.’
      ‘But without this vehicle,’ whispered the grim-faced
warlord, ‘we cannot return to our planet.’
      The Doctor was about to inform the Ice Warrior that his
distant home planet—Mars—had long since died, when he
stopped himself, horrified. With nowhere to return to, the
Martians would be forced to stay—but it wasn’t in their nature
to remain guests for long. They were conquerors, colonisers
and invaders; and with their deadly weapons, probably
invincible! Suddenly, the Doctor thought of a vital question.
‘Why did you come here in the first place? What was your
mission, Varga. Tell me!’
      ‘To investigate this planet... and report,’ answered
Varga. His next words confirmed the Doctor’s worst
suspicions. ‘We find that we are... superior.’
      The Doctor’s mind seethed with alarm. This small squad
of Ice Warriors, with or without their space vehicle, could
devastate and dominate Earth—continent by continent—if
they chose to! And he had a definite feeling that this would
have been part of that original Martian plan, conceived so
many centuries ago, and halted only by a freak landing on
that pre-historic glacier. Suppose there were other scout
ships, buried in the ice? Varga mustn’t be given the chance to
put his secret orders into practice—which meant there was
only one way out, dreadful but necessary. He began speaking
with what seemed an unnecessary loudness—but not for
Victoria’s benefit. Clent had to be persuaded to act—and act
now!
      ‘You do realise,’ stated the Doctor emphatically, ‘that at
a certain point almost immediately, fact—my Base will have to
activate the Ioniser regardless of the consequences?’
       Zondal didn’t catch the urgent emphasis. He sneered in
disbelief. ‘And risk destroying you—and themselves? They are
not fools!’
       ‘Better that.’ the Doctor started to say, ‘than—’
       In a flash, Varga’s fist had grabbed his arm, exposed the
tiny communicator and wrenched the device free, switching it
off in the process. He examined it closely, then laughed.
       ‘A communicator! How useful!’
       The Doctor had always known the risk of discovery.
Realising what he had been trying to do, Victoria gasped in
fear of Varga’s retaliation. Neither of them expected his
response.
       ‘When the time is right,’ hissed the warlord arrogantly,
‘we will use this device ourselves.’ He stepped closer to the
Doctor.
       ‘You have been most helpful, Doctor. You will forgive
interruption of your warning to your friends. Shall I complete
it for you?’ He laughed cruelly. ‘Better that than... be conquered
by these Martians! And you are right!’ He gestured towards the
engine complex, and his next words struck fear into both the
Doctor and Victoria.
       ‘There is one thing we need to complete our power,’
hissed the Martian arrogantly. ‘Then we shall be invincible—
and this planet will be ours to conquer as we please!’
                       8
             The Martian Ultimatum
      Leader Clent stared at the blank video screen and said
nothing for several seconds. It seemed that with the Doctor’s
message ending so abruptly—their last chance had vanished.
      ‘What can we do?’ asked Jan. ‘The Doctor! We’ve got to
help him!’
      Clent shook his head. ‘You heard what he said.
Regardless of the consequences, he wants us to take the risk
and use the Ioniser.’ He frowned. ‘But he’s not only offering
himself as a sacrifice—it’s us as well!’
      ‘If only he could have said more... Perhaps he means the
spaceship’s reactor isn’t dangerous?’
      ‘But the aliens are...’ replied the Leader grimly. ‘It’s no
good guessing, Miss Garrett. We must have facts!’
      She had to agree. ‘Until we programme the computer
with the correct information, it cannot instruct us how to act.’
      Clent turned back to the Ioniser monitors. They were
stable, but almost dormant at half power. ‘If only the Ioniser
would hold...’
      ‘At present output, it’s steadily losing ground to the
glacier.’ Inside her mind, a silent voice shouted Jan’s real
opinions. Forget the glacier! Do something to save the Doctor
and the girl! We owe them that much! We cannot let them
die! Aloud she said, ‘We dare not increase power... not yet.’
      Clent turned to her. She sensed the deep confusion in
his mind. He was torn between duty, humanity and the need
for action—knowing that whatever decision he took, the result
could spell disaster... Suddenly, the computer hummed into
life.
       ‘World Director, Ionisation Programme. to all sectors. The new
control equation originating from Brittanicus Base will be adapted to
conditions prevailing each sector, and linked to World Central
Control. On central command pulse, a concerted intercontinental
attack on the glaciers will commence in six hours exactly. Report
readiness in three hours. Leaders to confirm status report one hour to
zero. Message ends.’
       Jan tanned desperately to Clem. ‘We can’t do it!’ she
cried hopelessly.
       Clent’s face was stern; like a soldier taking orders in the
face of imminent destruction, he knew instinctively that he
must act without question. ‘If we don’t act, the world plan
must fail! We have no choice, Miss Garrett!’
       Jan was too well trained to defy her superior, but she
clutched desperately at one last straw... ‘The computer must be
told,’ she insisted firmly, ‘as a matter of procedure.’ As Clent
started to protest, she added quickly, ‘With the fresh directive
from World Control, it may be able to resolve our local
situation.’ She was relying desperately on Clent’s addiction to
the rule book and, to her relief, he nodded in reluctant
agreement.
       ‘Very well, Miss Garrett, feed the relevant data to
ECCO, if you must.’ But at the back of his mind he
instinctively knew what the computer would say in answer to
the grim dilemma. There was only one reply it could give—
and that answer would save no one. Seconds later it gave its
response.
       ‘As instructed, set up all circuits to the new equation. No action
to be taken until further data available regarding potential nuclear
explosion. Prepare to notify World Control in event of unresolved
emergency. Repeat, take no action!’ The machine fell silent.
       Clent looked across at Jan. ‘It’s what we both expected,
isn’t it,’ he commented wearily. ‘But the computer must be
obeyed. We must wait.’
       ‘In five hours from now, you have to report that we are
in emergency status!’ exclaimed Jan. At least we have that at
much time!’
       Clent studied her tense face, and saw she didn’t
understand. ‘Miss Garrett, you still don’t realise the logic of
the computer’s decision not to act, do you?’
       Puzzled, she shook her head. ‘The computer can only
ever be logical. It hasn’t enough facts—it told us so a moment
ago.’
       Clent’s reply carried an undertone of despair. ‘We have
just asked the computer if it is prepared to commit suicide. If
we use the Ioniser and we explode the alien reactor, the
Base—and the computer—will be destroyed. If we do not use
the Ioniser, the glaciers will advance and destroy the Base.
Either way, its survival is at risk—and one of its prime
directives, programmed as a vital part of its basic circuitry, is
to survive! Now do you see the dilemma?’
       Jan was silent. It wasn’t only the computer’s dilemma,
she realised; it was Clent’s as well. Whatever he did, failure
was staring him in the face.
       ‘We can at least evacuate,’ she said quietly, knowing
what his reaction would be. ‘There’s still time...’ Clent was
shocked, and angry. ‘Retreat? Throw in the towel? Perhaps
you would be happy to face world opinion afterwards, Miss
Garrett. I would not!’
       ‘Is that all that matters? It isn’t only your reputation at
stake. There are the lives of—’
      Jan stopped in mid-sentence as the picture of Walters
flashed on to the video screen. His brisk message startled both
Jan and Clent into action.
      ‘Security to Leader Clent. Two emergency arrivals, sir.
I’ve had them both brought to the medicare centre for
treatment. One of them’s Scientist Penley!’

      Zondal was supervising the removal of the sonic cannon
from its usual mounting inside the spaceship to a traction unit
in the cave outside. Varga turned to the Doctor.
      ‘As you can see, Doctor, we have more than just personal
destructors!’ He pointed to the weapon on his arm, and
Victoria shuddered, remembering vividly the horror of that
deadly gun. ‘This can destroy a man in an instant—but the
sonic cannon is capable of wiping out whole cities!’
      ‘What’s it to be used for?’ asked the Doctor.
      ‘It is an ultimatum,’ hissed Varga. He laughed brutally.
‘An ultimatum that accepts only one kind of reply—an
agreement!’
      ‘But why?’ asked Victoria bravely. ‘You’ve already got us
as hostages!’
      ‘Yes.’ agreed the Doctor. ‘What else do you want?’
      ‘Information,’ said Varga. ‘You have asked enough
questions. Now you will provide answers..?’
      ‘I’ve already told you all I know about the Ioniser,’
replied the Doctor. ‘You don’t need to worry—’
      ‘What is its power source then? Tell me that!’
      Suddenly the Doctor saw the situation in all its clarity.
While he had been desperate to know what sort of reactor the
Martians had on their space craft, they had realised that the
Base aright be the source of vital fuel for their reactor! The
truth was, they were as helpless as Clent and the scientists—
the perfect stalemate. But a distant groaning from the glacier
outside reminded him of that one random factor. The moving
river of ice was dependent on no one; unless it was stopped
soon, the Ioniser Base would be swept away like every other
man-made object in the glacier’s path.
      ‘So that’s what you need...’ he said shrewdly, looking
past Varga into the engine complex. ‘Fuel—for your reactor.
Without it, you’ll never be able to break free! ‘
      ‘Answer my question!’ commanded the warlord, holding
his sonic destructor close to Victoria’s head, ‘or the girl dies!
Quickly!’
      ‘And if I tell you?’
      ‘We will take what we need, and use it to blast our way
out of the glacier!’ came the fierce reply. ‘Speak!—’
      The Doctor looked suitably dejected. He turned from
the engine complex to face Varga. ‘Mercury isotopes—is that
it?’
      ‘You have them?’ demanded the warlord eagerly.
      Victoria’s face filled with dismay at the Doctor’s
surrender to the Martian demands. ‘Doctor, you shouldn’t
have told him!’
      ‘You’re more important, Victoria,’ murmured the
Doctor, then spoke to Varga defiantly. ‘You won’t find Leader
Clent so easy to persuade! He’s got a will as hard as granite!’
      ‘The sonic cannon,’ whispered Varga, ‘can be
programmed to disintegrate the hardest rock. This man will
do as we ask—or we will smash his installation to pieces!’ He
pointed through the open doorway of the airlock.
      There, at the entrance to the ice cave, pointing out over
the hillside towards the Base, stood the sonic cannon. At
Varga’s gesture, Zondal stepped forward to the control panel
inside the main complex of the spaceship. A video-radar
screen, with a fire-path already plotted, was suspended over
the gun controls.
       ‘The weapon has only to be primed, and fired at my
command,’ hissed the warlord. ‘Zondal is an expert
bombardier. Let us hope he does not have to demonstrate his
skills more than once!’

      When Clent and Miss Garrett arrived in the medicare
centre, Jamie was already encased in the computerised
diagnostic chamber. Penley, who was overseeing its purring
function, didn’t seem to hear Clent enter.
      But when he did turn round to acknowledge the
Leader’s sour greeting, his expression was one of deep relief.
      ‘So you’ve come back!’ commented Clent.
      ‘Of my own free will,’ replied the renegade scientist.
‘Largely because I was talked into it by that chap the Doctor—
and this young friend of his.’
      ‘Is that all you expect?’ jibed Clent. ‘Free medical
treatment? Don’t think you’ll be reinstated! You’re an
outsider—self-declared!’
      Jan was examining Jamie. ‘What’s wrong with him?’ she
asked Penley anxiously. He smiled in reply, appreciating that
she didn’t share Clent’s anger.
      ‘He was shot by the warriors’ guns,’ Penley answered
soberly, ‘when they killed Arden. I was afraid there’d be some
neural damage, but the diagnosis says it’ll only be
temporary—given the right treatment,’ he added
challengingly. ‘Or will you try and put a stop to that, too?’
      Walters, hovering in the background, looked uneasy. All
the signs pointed to yet another row between the two
scientists. Clent gestured Walters to remain.
      ‘Stay here, Walters,’ he ordered, ‘you may be needed.’
      ‘I’m not liable to be violent!’ snapped Penley. ‘I’m here
to make sure that this lad gets the attention he needs—that’s
all. Besides which, there’s this chap the Doctor—’
      ‘Where is he?’ asked Jan quickly. ‘We lost contact with
him over an hour ago. Have you seen him?’
      Penley nodded, then threw an acid glance at Clent, who
glowered back at him fiercely. ‘He’s up to something inside
the alien spaceship. Trying to save your skin, I suppose!’
Clent stiffened, but Penley continued. ‘What are you going to
do about him then?’
      ‘There is nothing we can do,’ announced Clent. ‘The
computer has given its instructions.’
      Instantly, Penley flared into anger. ‘You haven’t
changed have you? Can’t you ever think for yourself? It won’t
fall apart because you tell it to mark time for a couple of
hours!’
      Clent’s reply was cool and smug. ‘We are marking
time—at the request of the computer itself. For once.’ smirked
Clent, pleased to score over Penley’s incessant jibing at the
computer’s authority, ‘you and the computer are in
agreement!’
      ‘In that case, something’s badly wrong. Has it got
digestion—or mumps even?’ he asked hopefully. Jan replied,
trying desperately to keep the peace. If only these two would
sink their petty differences and cooperate, she thought, their
problems would be solved in no time!
      ‘The spaceship may contain a reactor system that could
explode under the effect of the full Ioniser impact,’ she said
simply. ‘We daren’t use it. But World Control have ordered
us—’
      ‘I know about the spaceship’s reactor,’ Penley replied.
‘Didn’t anybody have the sense to work out the time needed
for isotope degeneration? For all we know, it may be perfectly
harmless...’ He turned to Clent, no longer joking. ‘Now
there’s a sensible job for your computer, Clent.’
       Clent almost snarled with rage. ‘I have no intention of
diverting the Base computer from its official programme!’ he
shouted. ‘Least of all for something so trivial and irrelevant!
The computer’s judgement is quite clear—’
       Penley started shouting back. ‘Clent—you’re a fool! Not
even a man—just a slave to that stupid machine!’
       ‘We all know your sort of freedom, Penley!’ replied
Clent savagely. ‘Freedom to run away: from responsibility,
from loyalty, from service to the community.’
       ‘At least I have a mind of my own! I dare to act—but you
dare not!’ He grasped hold of Clent’s arm. The gesture wasn’t
in any way violent, but Clent tore himself free and shouted at
the security sergeant:
       ‘Walters Use your tranquilliser gun! Shoot!’
       Instinctively and swiftly, Walters obeyed. The numbing
drug took effect almost immediately. Penley slumped,
unconscious, to the floor. As Walters holstered his gun and
lifted the limp body on to a near-by bed-trolley, Clent caught
Jan’s look of disgust.
       ‘I had no choice!’ the Leader protested, ‘You saw him
grab me!’ Jan said nothing. Everyone present knew the
truth—including Clent. He turned to Walters, defensively.
‘Strap him down,’ he ordered. Clent ushered Jan towards the
door. ‘We have work to do...’ he declared. But Jan stood fast,
her face cold and determined. She pointed towards Jamie,
still unconscious and cocooned inside the diagnostic unit.
       ‘What about the boy?’ she demanded, her tone daring
Clent to ignore his condition. Clent glanced towards Jamie’s
helpless form; his face softened slightly. He stepped to the
control panel of the machine, and pressed a brief sequence of
coloured, illuminated tabs. The machine took on a new hum
of increased activity, and a status panel now read
TREATMENT IN PROGRESS,
     ‘The machine will do the rest,’ said Clent calmly. ‘We
must go back to the Ioniser Room and wait.’ As she and the
others left the laboratory, Jan threw one last glance back at
Penley, drugged and pinioned. She couldn’t help feeling that
with he and the Doctor out of action, all hope had faded...

      Varga’s voice rasped harshly from the spaceship’s
loudspeaker system, bringing Zondal and his prisoners
sharply alert.
      ‘I am at the perimeter of the Earthling Base! Prepare
the sonic cannon for firing!’
      Zondal’s mighty fist touched the response switch.
      ‘Pulse amplifier in operation now,’ he replied to his
unseen master.
      Unseen by Zondal, the Doctor mimed a tearful face to
Victoria. She responded by bursting into tears. As the Doctor
drew the sobbing girl to his shoulder in gentle sympathy,
Zondal turned briefly to them, and sneered.
      ‘It’s all right, Victoria,’ murmured the Doctor
comfortingly, ‘you mustn’t be afraid...’
      ‘When Varga, our warlord, returns in victory,’ declared
the Ice Warrior proudly, ‘then you will have cause for
weeping!’ He turned back to the complex process under his
control, having no inkling of the furtive conversation which
was being carried on behind his back. The Doctor handed a
large handkerchief to Victoria. In its folds nestled one of the
phials he had dialled from the Base dispenser. She looked
surprised, but continued to sob aloud.
      ‘Come along, my dear, have a good blow,’ said the
Doctor, then continued in a whisper, ‘When I give the word,
throw this stuff into Zondal’s face!’
      ‘What is it?’ Victoria asked between sobs.
      ‘Ammonium sulphide.’
      ‘Ammonium sulphide?’ Victoria blinked. ‘But that’s
what they use for making stinkbombs, isn’t it?’
      ‘I can see you’ve had a sound English education,’ the
Doctor commented. ‘You’re quite right in fact, it’s a minor
poisonous gas. Unpleasant, but harmless to humans.’ He
threw a quick glance at the hulking Martian. ‘But to aliens—
quite possibly deadly.’
      The shrill whine of power had reached such a pitch that
it was now virtually inaudible to human ears. Zondal activated
his radio-link, and reported. ‘Pulse amplified and held,’ he
hissed. ‘Ready to fire.’
      ‘Good, Zondal,’ replied Varga. ‘I will now contact the
scientists. On my command, you will fire—once. Do you
understand?’
      ‘Understood, Commander.’
      Suddenly, Victoria cried out in alarm.
      ‘Doctor! Look! There’s water coming into the spaceship!’
      ‘Great heavens!’ exclaimed the Doctor, beckoning the
Ice Warrior across. ‘Do you realise what this means, Zondal?
The ship is breaking up under the ice!’
      Caught between staying at his firing post, and
investigating a possible disaster, Zondal hesitated—and was
lost.
      ‘What is it?’ he asked suspiciously. ‘Do not try to trick
me!’ Then, as he peered to see what the Doctor was
indicating, Victoria threw the contents of the phial straight
into his face. For a second, the liquid had no effect at all.
Victoria glanced at the Doctor in horrified dismay. Then, just
as Zondal seemed to be recovering from the puny attack, his
sonic pistol poised for action, the toxic fumes began to grip
the creature’s throat. He lurched and fell, choking, to his
knees. The Doctor poured the contents of his own phial on to
Zondal’s bowed and wretching head, and then, like Victoria,
skipped nimbly out of range. But even as they watched, the
Martian’s body convulsed into a helpless wreck. Varga’s harsh
voice rang out again.
       ‘Zondal! Fire—now!’
       The stern command had the momentary effect of
pulling the desperately weakened warrior back from the edge
of oblivion. Zondal lunged weakly towards the control panel,
reaching for the firing button. The Doctor dashed forward—
but he was too late. Zondal’s fist struck home, and the cannon
fired!
                         9
                   Counter-Attack
      The blast struck the control room without warning.
Clent and Miss Garrett were hurled to the floor. Clent’s first
thought was that there had been a localised earthquake—but
a quick glance at the seismic chart gave no indication of a
natural disaster. He and Jan had barely risen to their feet,
half-stunned, when Walters burst into the control room, dusty
and battered.
      ‘Sir—’ he gasped. He paused to steady himself.
      ‘For heaven’s sake, Walters,’ demanded Clent, ‘what’s
happening?’
      ‘The documentation wing, sir’—explained the security
sergeant breathlessly—’its gone—blown apart!’
      They stared at him in disbelief. Then a glimmer of
understanding crept into Clent’s brain. ‘We’re under attack!’
he whispered wildly. ‘But who on earth...’
      Suddenly, the videoscreen flicked into life. Partially
distorted by interference. but hideously recognisable, was the
grim face of the Ice Warrior.
      ‘Leader Dent,’ came the terrifying hiss. ‘you are at my
mercy. Obey me, or you will be destroyed!’
      Clent snapped back, hysterically defiant. ‘I refuse! You
cannot destroy us!’
      ‘You do not believe me? Must I fire again?’
      Clent turned towards the others. but hardly seemed to
see them. His eyes looked glazed: he rubbed his hands
together in nervous desperation. Jan suddenly felt an
enormous surge of pity—he was on the verge of losing his
nerve completely.
        ‘What can we do?’ he croaked, looking about him
aimlessly. Suddenly, his eyes brightened. ‘We must play for
time!’ Walters was more realistic.
        ‘The building won’t take any more like that, sir! There’s
men killed already.’
        ‘Then we’ll talk to them,’ snapped Clent, and, acting
with a little of his old authority, he addressed the image on
the videoscrcen. ‘Exactly who am I speaking to?’ Jan mused
forward and stood by his shoulder.
        ‘My name is Varga, warlord of Mars. I order you to
surrender—or you will die!’
        ‘You will gain nothing by destroying us,’ replied Clent.
‘We both have urgent needs. But I will agree to talk—nothing
more.’ At first, the Martian didn’t reply. The tension became
almost unbearable.
        ‘If I come in peace,’ the voice replied at last, there must
be trust between us. No treachery!’
        ‘There will be no traps—or conditions,’ declared Clent.
        ‘See that you keep to that,’ rasped Varga, and his image
faded from the screen.
        It took several minutes for the scientists to regain their
normal composure.
        ‘What does he want...’ whispered Jan.
        ‘My men don’t stand a chance against weapons like that,
sir,’ insisted the security sergeant. ‘It’d be murder!’
        ‘That wasn’t in my mind, Walters,’ retorted Clent. ‘You
heard what he said—no treachery!’
        ‘But can we trust him?’ asked Jan
      ‘We have to, don’t we?’ replied Clent. ‘He has... certain
advanoges—like the ability to blast us and this whole building
apart!’
      ‘We could try bluffing him,’ suggested Jan seriously. ‘He
doesn’t know about the computer’s command to hold back.
We could threaten to destroy the glacier and his ship with it!’
      Before Clent could answer, Walters stepped forward, his
face eager. ‘Better than that, sir, why don’t we do it anyway?
It’s our only chance of survival—’
      Miss Garrett turned on the burly security- commander.
‘There are human lives at stake there, man: the girl’s and the
Doctor’s! We can only bluff !’
      ‘We will not use the Ioniser,’ clipped the Leader firmly,
‘unless the computer authorises it!’
      ‘Don’t tell me about that damned machine!’ shouted
Walters. ‘What’s your precious computer ever given us, Clent?
Nothing! Nothing but trouble! And it’s time somebody put an
end to it!’ He dragged his tranquilliser gun from its holster,
and was about to use it to smash the sleek head of ECCO.
Suddenly Clent cried out, and pointed towards the open
doorway.
      ‘Walters!’
      The wild-eyed security commander spun to face the
intruders, gun in hand. His eyes widened at the sight of
Varga and his three warriors. It was the last thing he ever
saw. Almost instantaneously, Varga’s melt reacted to the sight
of Walters’ weapon with a concerted burst of sonic fire-power.
The burly man fell, his face horribly contorted with pain.
      As Jan stifled a scream of terror, Cleat stared dully at the
body.
      ‘So much for trust...’ hissed the warlord.
      ‘That wasn’t planned!’ protested Clent. ‘He wasn’t going
to harm you—it was the computer that he wanted to smash!’
      ‘I do not need your explanations,’ responded Varga.
‘Our truce is at an end!’ As the Martian strode into the control
complex and began studying its equipment and layout, Jan
had the distinct feeling that the truce was never intended to
be kept. This alien was ruthless; unless they were careful,
Walters would not be the last to die. She motioned to the few
remaining technical operators to do nothing to antagonise the
Martians. One glance showed her that they were not likely to
make even a token resistance.
      ‘What is it you want?’ Jan boldy asked.
      Varga looked at her arrogantly. ‘I have one major need;
mercury isotopes for my spaceship’s reactor. You will give
them to me.’
      Clent frowned, and intervened cautiously. ‘But... we
don’t use mercury isotopes.’
      ‘The Doctor stated that you had what we need—here!
Do not try to trick me!’
      ‘He was wrong—we have one,’ answered Clent simply.
‘What good would lying do?’
      The warlord glowered at Clent, then moved towards
Jan. He spoke gently, but the menace in his voice was
unmistakable.
      ‘Tell me,’ he whispered smoothly, ‘what will hap-pen if
we shut off your reactor in order to extract the fuel elements
that we need?’
      ‘You can’t do that!’ Jan answered in alarm. ‘It powers
everything: heat, light—’
      ‘And the Ioniser...’ hissed the Martian. ‘Without the
reactor, you would be completely at the mercy of the glacier.’
      ‘You don’t realise the dangers!’ Clent exclaimed, his face
pale with stress. ‘The power source is locked in directly with
the Ioniser. If you cut out the energy pulse before it reduces
to safety level, the feed-back effect will blast you and this
building into a state of ion-flux!’
      The warlord studied him briefly, then moved across to
examine the Ioniser control panel. ‘What is its temperature
range?’ he hissed, his great fists poised above the controls.
      ‘Don’t touch it!’ cried Clent. It’s fully primed!’ Varga’s
hand fell back, but his arrogant head turned towards Clent,
waiting for the answer. ‘It can melt rock; muttered Clent
reluctantly.
      ‘It can volatise rock!’ the Martian was obviously
impressed. ‘What a weapon!’
      ‘It isn’t a weapon!’ insisted Clent nervously. ‘It’s a
scientific instrument!’
      ‘But highly dangerous,’ interjected Jan. ‘unless it’s
handled correctly. You do so at your own risk,’ she added.
      ‘You are its operator?’ hissed Varga, then taking her
nod of assent as answer, continued, ‘You will take it down to
safety level. Now!’
      Jan looked towards Clem. His shoulders slumped; he
nodded wearily in agreement. But Jan hadn’t given in
completely yet. ‘It’ll take some time,’ she said.
      ‘Do not attempt to trick me,’ rasped the Martian. ‘I
know that you are afraid its heat will explode my ship. If you
make one false move...’ he placed his sonic destructor at Jan’s
head ‘... you will be the first to die!’
      Clent stepped forward to defend Jan. Varga’s gun
swung in his direction. He strove to hide his fear. ‘Miss
Garrett is the only person who is qualified to disconnect the
Ioniser safely! If you kill her—’
       Varga moved closer to the Leader. ‘And what exactly do
you do here?’ he asked softly. A little of Clent’s old dignity
returned. ‘I am in charge of this establishment, with the
official rank of Leader.’
       The Martian coughed out his menacing laugh, and
placed the sonic weapon at Clent’s ear. ‘Then you have less
value to me than your colleague, who has more valuable
skills.’ The warlord looked at Jan, her eyes showed her fear.
‘To kill this man, your Leader,’ he hissed, ‘would be no loss to
me. Do you wish to see him die?’
       ‘No!’ cried Jan. ‘Please!’
       ‘Then do as I say! Close down the machine as quickly as
is safely possible!’ Varga brutally thrust the sonic weapon
against Clent’s cheek, making him howl with pain. ‘Or your
Leader will be destroyed!’

       Zondal had been so effected by the toxic gas that he was
likely, to remain in a deep coma for hours. Victoria kept
glancing at the sprawled, massive body nervously—but the
Doctor was wholly concentrating on adapting the intricate
mechanism of the sonic cannon’s control panel to a purpose
all his own.
       ‘But what is it you’re trying to do?’ asked Victoria.
       ‘It’s a bit difficult to explain, Victoria,’ replied the
Doctor, without pausing. ‘You see, this weapon works on the
basis that sound waves cause the objects in their path to
reverberate.’
       ‘The objects vibrate in sympathy,’ nodded Victoria. ‘I
know. Father told me about it once.’
       The Doctor frowned at a particularly involved piece of
circuitry, then carried on. ‘Well, if you can produce an
unsympathetic vibration, severe damage results...’
       ‘Damage?’ asked Victoria, then added brightly, ‘Like
when a singer hits a note that breaks glass?’
       ‘That’s it—only the Ice Warriors make it happen to the
neural and cell systems of the human body. My plan is to
change the frequency of this gun’s pulse rate so that it affects
the Martians, and not us—to frequency seven, I think.’
       ‘Frequency seven? What will that do?’
       ‘Primarily, it affects liquids. And I’ve got a theory that
the Martians’ cells contain a much larger fluid content than
ours.’ He stood back, apparently satisfied, then rubbed his
chin thoughtfully.
       ‘But you’re not sure.’ Her eyes widened in alarm.
       The Doctor nodded soberly. ‘There are bound to be
side-effects,’ he agreed, ‘but the warriors should get the worst
of it. You see, their helmets will trap and intensify the sound
waves—in fact I’m banking on that!’
       ‘You mean it’ll knock the Martians out,’ asked Victoria
tentatively, ‘but just leave the scientists a bit dizzy?’
       The Doctor carefully replaced the casing of the control
panel. Victoria could tell from his face and the hesitation in
his reply that he wasn’t at all happy. ‘Or can something go
wrong?’ she demanded.
       He looked her straight in the eyes, and gave her an
honest answer. ‘Human brain cells also contain a high
percentage of liquid. Unless I’m very careful, the effect on our
friends could be fatal.’

      Jan stepped back from the Ioniser controls, her face
bitter with defeat. ‘It’s done—operating at minimal status.’
She looked at Clent—but found no response there. It was as
though he was in a world of his own. ‘The ice is already
advancing.’ She pointed to the chart. Varga wasn’t interested
in the glacier.
      ‘Disconnect the machine totally!’ he barked.
      With no alternative but to do as he commanded. Jan
opened the power connector and the machine died. Its pitch
sank to a feeble drone.
      ‘Now the reactor!’ ordered the warlord.
      ‘Not until all residual power has drained off!’ replied
Jan sternly. ‘You know the danger!’
      ‘You will regret this, Varga.’ Clent declared, strangely
calm. ‘You cannot fight the whole world’
      ‘Your world is nothing’’ hissed Varga contemptuously.
‘We will live to regret only that my superiors on Mars cannot
congratulate us.’ He gestured abruptly towards Jan. ‘Hurry!’
      All eyes, Martian and human, were on the dying
machine. No one noticed the ragged form that had hidden so
skilfully in the shadows outside the door-way to the control
room, and who watched with dismay the fateful situation in
which Clent and Jan were trapped. Penley had woken from
the effects of the tranquilliser gun to find himself strapped
down to the trolley in the medicare laboratory. It had been
minutes before he realised that whoever had fastened the
restrainers had left them cunningly half-caught. It had been
an easy task to unloose them and set himself free. Jame,
cocooned within the healing confines of the diagnostic unit,
was unconscious but seemed, Penley noted, to be improving
rapidly.
      But Clent was a different matter—somehow, he had to
be made to see that what he was doing could only end in
disaster. It wasn’t until Penley reached the vestibule outside
the control room and realised just how desperate the situation
was, that he felt a genuine respect for Clent’s courage. It
would have broken a lesser man. Faced with not only death
but the destruction of all he held to be of importance in his
scientific career, the Leader remained quietly defiant... and
utterly helpless.
      But so am I, thought Penley to himself. These Martians
seemed invincible! Silently, he drew back into the shadowed
corner to think—and in doing so, jarred his shoulder against
a control box. Irritated. he glared at the unit—then looked
again, wild thoughts racing through his mind. It was an air-
conditioning stabiliser. At present set on automatic, with
preset limits, it could also be converted to manual. His mouth
dry, Penley’s fingers fumbled rapidly to open up the casing;
his mind swiftly assessed what he knew about the Martians. It
was the boldly labelled status gauges that had triggered his
thoughts: temperature, oxygen ratio, and humidity. These
aliens were entirely at home in such Ice Age conditions as
might exist on certain parts of their home planet, Afars. Well,
thought Penley, we’ll soon put an end to that! Switching the
controls to manual, he increased all three elements to
maximum—and prayed.
      The effect was almost instantaneous. Rintan, the warrior
standing closest to an air-conditioning grille in the control
room, started to reel. The floor was rising and falling beneath
him like a sinking ship! His great fists clawed at his throat,
and his usually softly wheezing breath changed to a series of
great tearing sobs. Within seconds, the humans. too, felt the
increased surge of toxic heat—but still threatened by the
waariors’ weapons, they looked on helplessly as each of the
Martians struggled to remain conscious. Only Varga kept any
degree of keen awareness. He whirled to confront Clent
furiously.
       ‘What have you done to us!’ he snarled, ‘You have
tricked us! For that you will die!’
       But even as he raised his gun, a new terror struck. An
immense, pulsing throb of sound filled the room—and its
effect on the Martians was even more astounding than that of
the heat. The humans slumped lifeless to the floor, like stones.
The effect on the Martians was more terrifying. The sound
flooded over them, through them—but, worst of all, it seemed
to penetrate their great helmets. Crying out hoarsely,
lurching in agony, there was no escape from the relentless
sound that threatened to crush their very brains... Then, just
as suddenly, the sonic terror ended.
       But the combined effect of the sound and the
atmospheric assault—which still hadn’t stopped—had left the
warriors. Varga included, in a state of confusion and shock...
Then, even as they still recovered, the voice of the Doctor
came through on Varga’s personal communicator.
       ‘Varga! This is the Doctor. Will you retreat—or shall I
use frequency seven again?’
       Nearly out of his mind with pain and anger, Varga still
registered that deadly number: Frequency Seven. Used in the
prisons of his home planet as a form of aversion punishment,
continuous doses of it could destroy the brain, leaving the
body a living vegetable. How did the Doctor know this?
       ‘Varga!’ came that relentless voice once more, ‘Answer—
or I fire again!’
       There was no other choice but to obey. With a furious,
sweeping gesture, the warlord ordered his warriors from the
building. Furious, Varga shouted aloud the message to the
Doctor: ‘You will suffer for this!’ Then, lurching past the
crumpled body of the human in the vestibule outside, the Ice
Warriors streamed out into the freedom of the snowy
wastes—and the protection of their spaceship.
     But when they reached the ice cavern, they discovered
the sonic cannon fused and destroyed, Zondal unconscious,
and both their prisoners gone...
                     10
         On the Brink of Destruction!
      Jamie, who had just recovered consciousness, was
helped out of the snug confines of the diagnostic unit by an
almost hysterically relieved Victoria. The Doctor had gone on
ahead to the control room without explanations. He had told
the two youngsters to follow as soon as possible.
      ‘What’s been happening?’ asked Jamie, stretching his
cramped limbs. Then, as memories crowded back, he looked
at Victoria more thoughtfully. ‘Arden—is he—?’
      She nodded quickly. Then, as they walked through the
empty corridors to the control room, she filled in what had
happened during Jamie’s healing sleep, and what they might
expect to find. On arrival, the Doctor quickly made it clear
that there was no time for questions or answers. As he helped
Penley to his feet, he indicated the reviving bodies of the
scientists and technicians who were littered all over the
control room floor.
      ‘We’ve no time to waste. Help some of the others, will
you?’
      ‘That was rather a neat trick,’ commented Penley. ‘How
did you do it?’
      The Doctor smiled, mildly apologetic. ‘Made a mess of
the Ice Warriors’ weapon system, I’m afraid. I’ll tell you about
it another time.’
      Jan, quickly recovering, turned to the Doctor in dismay.
      ‘The Ioniser—they made me disconnect it!’
      ‘Then link it up again—fast as you can!’
      Jan looked to Clent for confirmation.
       ‘That’ll be perfectly in line with the computer’s directive,
Miss Garrett. You may proceed.’ Jan hurried to put his order
into action. Clent turned to the Doctor, his tired face filled
with relief. ‘Thank you, Doctor,’ he said, and then. seeing
Penley standing at the Doctor’s shoulder, frowned. ‘You
played your part well. I gather,’ he conceded. But his eyes still
looked unfriendly.
       ‘Clent’—the       Doctor      interjected    urgently—‘the
spaceship’s reactor is ion-powered. Mercury isotopes—’
       The Leader’s face fell. One of the main reasons why the
Base reactor didn’t use mercury isotopes was that their critical
fusion level had proved uncontrollable on a large scale. ‘Then
we dare not use the Ioniser at full force,’ he said dejectedly.
‘It’s our last chance gone...’
       ‘You still haven’t taken the degeneration factor into
account!’ exclaimed Penley.
       ‘But there could still be enough residual particles to
form a prolonged chain reaction!’ barked Clent. ‘Don’t you
understand the risk? We could all be wiped out in an instant!’
       ‘It’s a risk you have to take,’ insisted the Doctor. ‘If you
don’t, the Base will go down under the glaciers anyway.’
       ‘Not forgetting the aliens,’ Penley reminded them.
There was a moment’s pause as this threat sank in. Jan had
brought the Ioniser into operation once more, and it
hummed quietly in the background as she came to report,
       ‘It’s on minimal power, Leader Clent,’ she said. ‘We can
use it at any time you want.’
       Clent turned away, not wanting the others to see his
fear. He knew the next step that most be taken—but he could
only draw back.
       ‘The computer said wait!’ he stated vehemently.
       Jan looked at him in surprise. ‘It said wait until we had
more information. We’ve got it now!’
       ‘Can’t you see it won’t make any difference? It dare not
act—we dare not act!’
       ‘And why’s that?’ asked Jamie, who had overheard
Clent’s last outburst.
       ‘Because, Jamie, the computer is faced with an insoluble
problem,’ explained the Doctor. ‘Either way, the computer
risks destroying itself—and that it cannot do. It can only play
safe.’
       ‘But if it does nothing...’ faltered Jamie, ‘...that’s just as
bad!’
       ‘Exactly,’ came Penley’s quiet voice. ‘Which leaves its
only one course of action.’
       ‘If you think I’m going to evacuate—’ Clent started to
shout.
       ‘My dear chap, you haven’t got time for that,’ replied
Polley. ‘It isn’t a question of logic any more. It’s a question of
world survival. You must over-ride the computer.’
       Clent looked at his former colleague, and shook his
head. ‘You’re mad! You want to kill us all. There has to be
another way!’
       ‘I want to survive,’ rapped Penley. ‘And I’m willing to
take the risk that your pet machine daren’t! That’s what men
are for, Clent! That’s what Leaders like you are for!’ He tried
to appeal to the man who had once been his friend. ‘Be brave,
Clent. Be yourself!’
       ‘But what about the World plan? If we act too soon, it’ll
be as bad as being too late! We must act at the appointed
hour, and not before!’
       ‘It’s our problem—not World Control’s!’ insisted Penley.
‘It’s us that’s out of step, not them—and they haven’t got
aliens on their doorstep as well as the glacier! Unless we deal
with them now, world civilisation is going to find itself
involved in interplanetary war!’
      ‘Someone must decide—and quickly,’ agreed the
Doctor. He looked into Clent’s face. The Leader seemed
almost incapable of words—let alone action.
      ‘Such a decision...’ muttered the Leader, then bent his
head, unable to look the others in the face. ‘I can’t.’ he said.
      The Doctor glanced at Miss Garrett. She shook her head
and nodded towards Penley—as the Doctor hoped she would.
      ‘It’s up to you, Penley,’ declared the Doctor, seriously.
      The transference of authority stung Clent into one last
typical act.
      ‘I demand the right to consult the computer!’ he cried,
moving towards ECCO; without waiting for agreement or
argument, he formally addressed the sleek head. ‘Problem—
in addition to previous data, include the factor that the alien
spaceship is powered by an ion reactor. Dare we use the
Ioniser? What are the alternatives? Answer!’
      The reply shocked everyone—but Clent most of all.
Instead of its usual swift, objective appraisal and cold-blooded
judgement, the tortured machine spluttered forth a stream of
gibberish, half electronic, half verbal—and all totally
incoherent. As its smooth head jerked from side to side in
spasmodic twitches, a pungent whiff of overloaded circuits
drifted from its control panel. and Clent, realising the
impossible dilemma facing the machine, switched it off.
      ‘It’s gone out of its mind!’ exclaimed Jamie. ‘It can’t
cope!’
      As Clent slumped listlessly into a nearby chair, Penley
took command, firmly but quietly. ‘Miss Garrett, inform
World Control. We’re using the Ioniser now—and tell them
precisely why. Full report to follow—we hope.’
       Victoria suddenly remembered shat the Martian
warlord had said to the Doctor. A look of alarm crossed her
face. The Martian spaceship!’ she exclaimed. ‘If you free it
from the ice!’
       The possibility of the Martians freely roaming the sky
gripped them all with a sense of doom. What other terrifying
weapons did that vehicle possess? How could they combat
such a threat? It was Clent’s tired voice that supplied the
answer.
       ‘I told Varga that the Ioniser was a scientific instrument
capable of melting rock,’ he said calmly. ‘But he saw it as a
weapon.’ He paused. and studied Penley intently. ‘I suggest...
that it should be used as such.’
       For a moment, all eyes were on the two top scientists.
Each weighed the bitter consequences of his calling, and
pondered upon the grim decision that he must take. Then
Penley nodded, and spoke with an air of quiet purpose.
       ‘It has to be done,’ he said and, moving to the Ioniser
controls. began to raise its operating pitch to maximum
power...

      Zondal had expected the harshest of punishments for
his dismal failure. With the sonic cannon wrecked and useless,
and his prisoners escaped, he had knelt before Varga, only
taking consolation from the fact that the finality of his
punishment would at least remove the disgrace.
      But defeat at the hands of the Earthlings had thrust all
thoughts of a court martial out of the warlord’s mind. The
most urgent need was to be ready to break free when the ice
started to melt—for he was certain now that the Earthlings
would use the Ioniser, whatever the risk. So Zondal had been
spared. but for one propose only.
       ‘We have to escape before the floods overcome us,
Zondal!’ hissed the Martian leader. ‘It is your task to make
our engines function—quickly!’
       ‘But the fuel cells are almost useless!’ replied his
reprieved lieutenant. Then. aware that if he succeeded in
raising the power they needed, his earlier mistake would be
cancelled out, he declared vehemently. ‘But I will try
everything possible!’
       He had tried every technical trick he knew, and other
desperate experiments as well. But the most he had managed
was to raise the power gauges trembling barely above the zero
mark. In the cave outside, the ice groaned and shuddered in
constant movements Isbur returned from a final
reconnaissance outside, and closing the airlock for the last
time, reported briefly. ‘The ice is breaking up, Commander.
The water is rising!’
       Varga ordered his warriors to action stations, then
moved to where Zondal was working frantically. ‘Do you hear,
Zondal?’ he demanded harshly. ‘But what use is freedom if we
are helpless! Is there no life in the fuel elements?’
       ‘I have not given up yet!’ replied the engineer, then
turned, as did Varga, in response to Isbur’s sharp cry from
the control room.
       ‘Commander! Power!’
       The warlord moved quickly to the control panel,
followed closely by Zondal. It was true! The flickering needles
were slowly rising, building towards operational level! Zondal
stepped forward and grasped the controls. ‘The ice is our
friend.’ He spoke in excitement. ‘We still have power—and it
is increasing!’
      ‘Careful, Zondal,’ hissed his commander. ‘We must time
the take-off boost perfectly. There will not be a second
chance!’
      And as the soft hum of power began to throb through
the spaceship, Varga let his mind go forward to that moment
when they would be free, in flight, and able to take a terrible
revenge...

       In the Ioniser control room, all eyes bar Penley’s were
glued to the electronic chart showing the glacier’s advance.
His glance never left the monitor screens and power dials of
the machine which his hands were controlling. Jan Garrett
was feeding him the relevant information about the state of
the ice.
       ‘Glacial front reduced by seven metres—par level of ten
days ago now achieved!’
       ‘We’re winning!’ exclaimed Victoria, almost hopping
with excitement. But the Doctor’s face was still grim. ‘Not yet,
Victoria,’ he murmured. ‘Not by a long chalk, I’tn afraid. It
isn’t just the ice we’ve got to beat, remember.’
       ‘Instrument readings on the ice face show a continuous
rise in temperature. Still short of maximum.’ continued Jan.
       ‘How will we know?’ asked Jamie. ‘Those figures can’t
tell us what the Ice Warriors are up to, can they?’
       Clent, standing in the background, answered Jamie’s
query patiently. ‘The instruments on the ice face have the
highest heat and shock resistance known to man,’ he said.
‘When they cease to function, everything about them will be
destroyed—including the alien spacecraft.’
       ‘And its reactor too?’ Victoria asked the Doctor.
     He nodded. He didn’t trouble to remind her that their
own fate was also in the balance. There’d be little enough time
to worry about that if disaster did strike!
     Penley, his hand poised on the power lever, took a deep
breath. ‘Here we go,’ he muttered tensely. ‘All the way—now!’
He rammed the throttle to full.

      In the midst of chaos, Varga stood, majestic and alone.
All about him, his warriors slid weakly to the floor, almost
physically crushed by the combination of heat and humidity.
Only Zondal remained conscious—close to collapse, he
worked desperately at the smouldering controls. His choking
voice barely reached Varga through the thick yellow fumes
that were filling the ship. ‘Must... achieve... lift-off!’ were the
Martian lieutenant’s final gasping words. His commander
looked down at his dying comrade and spoke words that
Zondal never heard.
      ‘It was not power in our engines, Zondal,’ he rasped. ‘It
was the heat! Our greatest enemy: heat—from the Earthling’s
Ioniser!’ Coughing from the fumes, he continued, ‘A
magnificent weapon!’ Then, still standing. he saluted his dead
comrades in the Martian style. ‘No... surrender!’ he cried as
he, his ship and warriors, were blasted into infinity...

      As Clent had predicted, all the seismic probe readings
were dead—but the long-range seismograph print-out gave
the minor blast recording that meant survival!
      ‘Only a sub-tremor reading!’ cried Jan, elated. ‘We’re
safe! We’ve done it!’
      ‘Miss Garrett—’ responded Penley with a calm smile.
‘perhaps you’d better set all circuits to automatic and tie in
with World Control?’
       Jan suddenly realised that several of the technicians
were observing her happy outburst with amusement. With an
embarrassed, apologetic smile, she moved to the Ioniser
controls and made the correct connections. Penley
approached Clent, who was sitting at the back of the room, his
head in his hands.
       ‘Clent perhaps you’d care to check over the report we’ll
need to make?’
       Clent looked up, surprised. He had expected only scorn
and humiliation from his colleagues. And now, of all people, it
was Penley suggesting that they had a job to do—together!
For a moment, Clent’s face was blank and disbelieving. Then
he smiled tiredly. ‘Penley—you are the most insufferably
irritating and infuriating person I have ever’—he stopped in
mid-sentence, and then grinned broadly—’been privileged to
work with!’
       Penley simply thrust out his hand to meet Clent’s, and
they held the grasp for a brief moment. ‘Thanks, Clent...’
       ‘Never could write a report, though, could you?’ jibed
the Leader gently, hiding his brief display of emotion. ‘Don’t
worry, it’s something I’ve been trained to do.’
       ‘Without the computer?’ twinkled Penley cheerfully.
       ‘I think I can manage quite well, thank you...’ declared
Clent, then added—‘anyway, I can always get the Doctor to
help out.’ He turned to smile at the Doctor and his young
friends—only to find they weren’t anywhere to he seen. He
turned back to Penley and Miss Garrett, his face puzzled.
‘That’s funny,’ he said. ‘Where on earth have they got to?’
       Outside the great dome that protected Brittanicus Base,
the snow had almost melted. Green shoots of long-covered
grass were just beginning to show through on a messy bank
that had once been a snow-drift, and which still bore the
imprint of a certain heavy, blue, twentieth-century police box.
     But the box itself had long since gone...