In the dark uncharted depths of the North Sea it has
lurked, growing in strength, growing in size, and striking
terror into the hearts of mariners down the untold
centuries.
Landing near a North Sea gas refinery off the east coast of
England, the TARDIS crew are immediately accused of
sabotage. Several rig crews have mysteriously vanished,
strange pressure build-ups have been detected, and in the
refinery's pipelines the Doctor can hear the steady,
rhythmic beat of - what?
Soon the Doctor, Jamie and Victoria will find themselves
at the unrelenting mercy of the deadliest and most
terrifying foe they have ever encountered...

ISBN 0 426 20259 7
    DOCTOR WHO
 FURY FROM THE DEEP
Based on the BBC television serial by Victor Pemberton by
 arrangement with the British Broadcasting Corporation




         VICTOR PEMBERTON




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

1 The Deadly Sound
2 Something in the Pipeline
3 A Pair of White Gloves
4 Mr Oak and Mr Quill
5 Waiting in the Dark
6 The Specimen
7 The Figure on the Beach
8 The Impeller Shaft
9 The Battle of the Giants
10 The Spy Within
11 The Nerve Centre
12 'Scream, Victoria, Scream!'
A Target Book
Published in 1986
by the Paperback Division of W. H. Allen & Co. PLC
44 Hill Street, London W1X 8LB

Novelisation copyright © Victor Pemberton 1986
Original script copyright © Victor Pemberton 1968
'Doctor Who' series copyright © British Broadcasting Corporation
1968, 1986

The BBC producer of Fury From The Deep was Peter Bryant
the director was Hugh David

Typeset in Baskerville by Fleet Graphics, Enfield, Middlesex

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

ISBN 0 426 20259 7

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.
                           1
                    The Deadly Sound
       The sky had never looked more menacing. Huge clusters of
dark grey clouds had overwhelmed the early morning sunshine,
threatening the approach of a gathering winter storm. And beneath it
all: the sea; the cruel, unyielding sea, crammed with dark secrets that
Man on planet Earth has never fully understood. Quiet and calm
now, with small white tufts of foam curling gently across the surface,
waiting for the gale force winds to lash them into a frenzy. An
ancient mariner once said that if you stand alone on the sea shore,
you will hear the sound of those who dwell in the deep depths of the
ocean. Today was to be just such a day...
       For the moment, however, the sound was a more familiar one.
The TARDIS began to materialise out through the clouds, gradually
descending, to hover for a few seconds just above the waves. Finally,
it dropped with an undignified flop onto the sea.
       A short while later, a small rubber boat was bobbing up and
down on the undulating swell, heading its way slowly towards the
shore. Inside the boat, three time-travellers were all looking
decidedly cold and wet.
       'Just like you to land us in the middle of the sea!' Jamie was
very disgruntled as he used all his burly strength to row the boat's
oars against the outgoing tide.
       'Sorry about that.' The Doctor was also rowing energetically,
his favourite woollen bobble hat pulled tightly over his ears. 'But
don't worry. The TARDIS is perfectly capable of floating.'
       Behind them, the TARDIS was swaying gently to and fro on
the surface of the water. It was a majestic, if improbable, sight.
Passing ships were going to be in for something of a shock when
they picked up an old blue police box on their radar scanner.
       'Where exactly are we?' groaned Victoria. The poor young girl
was huddled beneath a large blanket, wearing a thick woollen jumper
and skirt, trying to protect herself from the merciless ice-cold breeze.
Victoria had never been a good sailor. She had even got sick when
her father took her rowing in a boat on the Serpentine Lake in
London's Hyde Park. That was back in Victorian times.
       The Doctor's eyes were carefully scanning the barren coastline
ahead of them. 'Oh, that's England all right. There's no doubt about
it.'
       'Aye,' grunted Jamie, shivering with the cold. His exposed legs
below his kilt had already turned a decided shade of blue. 'W-with
this w-weather, it couldna' be anywhere b-but England!'
       Although Jamie's comment was a little unjust, the Doctor was
probably right. As they approached the coastline they saw that it was,
without a doubt, the eastern seaboard of the British Isles. The beach,
which was covered entirely with large pebbles, extended for a
distance of at least two miles, and perhaps even more. At either end
of the beach were enormous steep cliffs, with craggy rocks below,
and the entire sea shore was backed by a vast area of sand dunes,
which had been shaped into sinister formations by the endless East
Anglian winds.
       Jamie and the Doctor hauled the rubber boat ashore, then
helped Victoria onto the beach. The Doctor remained at the water's
edge for a moment, and gazed out to sea. In one way, he looked a
rather comical figure in his woollen bobble hat, shabby old frock
coat, and baggy check trousers. But as his eyes scanned the surface
of the gently rolling tide, it was obvious he felt uneasy. The Doctor
had never really liked the sea. In fact, it was the only thing he really
feared. It made him feel insecure, restless.
       Jamie was quick to recognise the Doctor's strange mood. He
had seen it many times before, always when the Doctor had been
anticipating danger. Wandering back to the water's edge, he asked
quietly, 'What is it, Doctor?'
       The Doctor's eyes were transfixed out towards the sea. 'I don't
know, Jamie.' His face was tensed into a frown, as though trying to
listen to something. 'There's something not right about this place.'
       An ice-cold wind skimmed the surface of the water and swept
across the pebbled beach into the sand dunes, sending a funnel of
silvery white sand high into the sky. And as the great mist of sand
began to settle again, a ghostly, shadowy figure could just be seen,
crouched low behind one of the dunes.
       The Doctor and his two companions moved on. As they made
their way slowly along the beach, their feet made untidy crunching
sounds on the rough, hard pebbles. They had only gone a short
distance when the Doctor came to an abrupt halt. 'That's curious.' He
was staring at something just by his feet.
       Victoria wasn't at all concerned. 'It's only foam washed in on
the tide. You often find it along the sea shores.'
       'Maybe so,' replied the Doctor, bending down to take a closer
look at the frothy white substance, 'but there's quite a lot here.'
       Victoria turned to look around. The Doctor was right. The
entire stretch of the shoreline and beach beyond were covered with
large patches of sea foam. It was a very weird sight.
       Jamie bent down beside the Doctor. 'D'you think there's
something wrong?'
       'I'm not sure... ' The Doctor scooped up a handful of. foam and
studied it closely for a moment. 'Here, Jamie - smell.'
       Jamie put his nose to the handful of foam. As he did so, the
Doctor suddenly slapped it full into Jamie's face.
       'Hey!' Jamie was unable to splutter anything more. His face
looked as though it was covered in soap suds. The foam also had
another curious effect on him, for he immediately burst into a
deafening fit of sneezing.
       The Doctor and Victoria doubled up with laughter as they
watched Jamie, convulsed with sneezing, wiping foam from his face.
Jamie's Highland pride was now aroused, and he quickly retaliated
by scooping up handfuls of foam and throwing them at the Doctor.
       An hilarious foam battle quickly ensued, with the Doctor and
Jamie beginning to look like snowmen, their howls of laughter
echoing around the beach. The seabirds were not disturbed, because
there were no seabirds to be seen. In fact, the sea, the beach, and the
cliffs seemed to be deserted of all wild life. But there were other eyes
watching the beach, cold and prying eyes...
       'Doctor!'
       Victoria's sudden shout brought the fun and games to ah abrupt
halt. The Doctor and Jamie turned with a start, to find Victoria
staring at something in the base of a nearby cliff.
       'Don't touch anything!' The Doctor yelled as he ran, with Jamie
close behind him.
       Victoria had discovered an exposed section of aluminium tube,
curling out of the sand and up into the rock face of the cliff. Apart
from a few printed figures on the surface of the tube, there were no
obvious clues to reveal either its manufacture, or its function.
       'What is it, Doctor?' she asked.
       The Doctor was tapping the sides of the tube with his
knuckles, trying to decipher the printed figures, which were probably
some kind of code. 'Natural gas, Victoria. It's pumped out of the
North Sea into this pipeline.'
       'Gas from the sea!' Jamie gave the Doctor one of his sceptical
Highland looks. After all, he had been brought up in the Scotland of
the Jacobean age, long before the arrival of the giant oil and gas sea
rigs. 'Who are you tryin' to kid, Doctor?'
       'Now, I wonder what that's for?' The Doctor had become
keenly interested in a small black box which was fixed to the top of
the aluminium tube. 'Jamie, help me up, will you?'
       Jamie clasped his hands together, allowing the Doctor to use
them as a step to climb up the side of the tube.
       Whilst this was going on, Victoria shivered in the cold, and
pulled her shawl around her shoulders. She looked all around her,
eyes scanning the long stretch of shoreline, and the bleak
unfriendliness of the surrounding terrain. Even though Victoria felt
tremendous gratitude towards the Doctor for all he had done for her,
it was during moments like this that she missed the love and
protection of her dear father back in the Victorian age.
       The Doctor was now perched cross-legged on top of the
aluminium tube. From the inside pocket of his jacket, he took out
what looked like his own version of a screwdriver. Slowly,
cautiously, he started to open the small black box...
       At the rear of the beach amongst the sand dunes, the ghostly
figure of a man waited patiently. In the distorted, shimmering haze of
the early morning, it was almost impossible to see him, lying flat on
his stomach, watching the Doctor and his companions through the
telescopic sight of his rifle...
       'What is it, Doctor? Can you see?' Jamie was straining to peer
inside the small black box which the Doctor had just opened on top
of the aluminium tube. It contained a cluster of micro-chip
electronics.
       'Looks like some kind of remote-controlled release valve.' The
Doctor was prodding at the mass of wires with his screwdriver,
causing an immediate flurry of sparks. 'Sure sign we're in the
twentieth century. Latter part of it, I'd say.'
       Victoria was becoming increasingly nervous. 'Doctor, I do
wish you'd hurry. There's something I don't like about this place. It's
so—quiet. As though we're being watched.'
       The focus gradually cleared through the telescopic sight of the
ghostly figure's rifle. It was centred firmly on the Doctor...
       The Doctor, still perched on top of the aluminium tube, was
replacing the small black box he had been looking at.
       'Doctor!' Jamie's ear was pressed firmly against the side of the
tube. 'I can hear something. A peculiar sound.'
       'A sound? Inside the pipeline?' From another of his jacket
pockets, the Doctor quickly took out his stethoscope, placed one end
of it on the surface of the aluminium tube, and listened to the
movement inside.
       The sound was definitely there: a deadly sound, slow,
rhythmical, thumping, pulsating, like a heartbeat, reverberating along
the entire length of the pipeline tube, way out along the depths of the
ocean.
       Jamie's eyes were glazed with apprehension. He never feared
anything he could actually see, but this was an unnatural sound that
sent cold shivers up and down his spine. 'What is it, Doctor?' he
asked.
       'I don't know, Jamie.' The Doctor was grim-faced as he listened
to the deadly sound through his stethoscope. The pulsating heartbeat
was becoming more mesmeric, more dominant, and the Doctor had
that familiar look of sensing impending danger. 'It could be vibration
from the pump. Except that... ' Suddenly, and without warning, he
clutched his shoulder, and yelled out loud in pain. 'Aaah!'
        'Doctor!' Jamie and Victoria watched in horror as the Doctor
toppled off the aluminum tube, and slumped with a thud onto the
beach.
        'Doctor, what is it? What's wrong with you?' Victoria was on
her hands and knees in the sand, trying to shake some life back into
the Doctor. But the Doctor's body was totally lifeless. His eyes were
firmly closed, and his lips had turned a distinct yellow.
        Jamie bent down and took hold of the Doctor's hand. It was
ice-cold in the chilly wind. Ashen-faced, Jamie raised his eyes to
meet Victoria's look of desperation. In a voice trembling with
emotion, he said, 'He's dead. The Doctor's dead.'
        Victoria wanted to scream out in anguish. But she was too
stunned to react in any way at all. For a brief moment she and Jamie
just stared at each other in disbelief, tears gradually swelling in her
large blue eyes. The Doctor, their friend, their companion - dead. But
how could it be possible? The Doctor had survived so many attacks
on his life during their travels through time and space. The Doctor
was as indestructible as time itself.
        Jamie suddenly noticed a small tear in the left-hand corner of
the Doctor's jacket. 'He's been shot!' he growled angrily. Rising
quickly to his feet, the young Highlander swung his glance around to
take in the entire stretch of shoreline. At the top of his voice he
yelled, 'Where's the heathen coward that'd shoot a man doon in cold
blood!'
        Jamie's voice echoed over and over again along the beach, the
cliffs, and the sand dunes. If there had been any seagulls riding on
the crest of the waves, they would surely have taken flight in panic
and terror. But there were no seagulls today, only more and more
patches of white sea foam, floating in relentlessly on the swelling
tide.
        'Will ye no' come out!' Jamie's voice was shaking with emotion
and fury. 'Or do I have to come and get ye?'
        In the sand dunes at the rear of the beach, Jamie's defiant
outline was brought into focus through the telescopic sight of the
ghost figure's rifle.
        'Murderers!'
       It was the last word Jamie spoke. Suddenly, and without
warning, he clutched his stomach, crumpled up in pain, and slumped
in a heap onto the sand.
       'Jamie!' This time Victoria did scream. But it was too late.
       By the time she reached Jamie, his crumpled body was as
lifeless as the Doctor's.
       'No! Jamie! No...'
       Victoria's tears could do nothing to revive the indomitable
spirit of the Highland hero. Both he and the Doctor were gone
forever, and there was nothing she could do about it. Crouched in the
sand alongside Jamie's chilled and stone-like body, Victoria realised
she was now completely alone.
       The first flurries of snow fluttered down, and began to settle on
the two still figures now stretched out on the sand. The air was
suddenly quiet. Not a murmur. Not even a light breeze. Victoria,
snowflakes glistening in her hair, tears streaming down her flushed
cheeks, slowly raised her head.
       At first, the sound was barely audible. But there was no
mistaking it was there. The same, slow, rhythmical, pulsating sound
like a heartbeat which the Doctor had heard reverberating inside the
pipeline tube.
       Victoria sprang to her feet with a start. The beach was no
longer deserted. Standing in the dunes a short distance away, was the
towering figure of a man, wearing a shiny black uniform and helmet.
In his hand he held the telescopic rifle which had brought down both
the Doctor and Jamie. Soon, other figures were beginning to emerge
from the mist: sinister figures, all in black uniforms and helmets.
       'Who are you?' Victoria's voice, trembling with fear and anger,
screeched and echoed across the beach. 'Why are you doing this to
us?'
       The sinister figures in black remained silent. Then they were
joined by two odd-looking men, one-tall and thin, the other small and
fat. Both were wearing white medical tunics and caps.
       Victoria's immediate instinct was to run. But as she turned, she
was confronted by a sight of sheer horror. The beach all around her
was a mass of white sea foam. And out of the foam appeared large
clumps of seaweed, all pulsating with life, like a human heart.
       'No!' Victoria's scream provoked the most chilling response
from the seaweed clumps, for they suddenly burst into a frenzied
cacophony of sound, pulsating faster and faster, as if daring the
intruder to move towards them.
       Victoria covered her ears, desperately trying to protect them
from the deafening, deadly sound.
       In the sand dunes, the towering, ghostly figure raised his rifle,
and focussed on Victoria through the telescopic sight.
       As soon as she was struck down by the silent bullet, Victoria's
cry of pain was muffled by the pulsating sound of the seaweed
clumps in the foam all around her.
       And then it was quiet again. Not a murmur. Not even a slight
breeze.
       The sinister figures in the dunes watched and waited. One by
one, the clumps of seaweed withdrew into the safety of the foam.
       The snow was falling thick and fast now, leaving a thin carpet
of white over beach and cliffs.
       It took only a few minutes for snowflakes to cover the three
lifeless bodies spread-eagled forlornly in the sand.
                         2
              Something in the Pipeline
      The darkness seemed interminable. No dreams, not even a
nightmare. Just a long, dark void.
      Victoria was the first to stir. Her eyes suddenly sprang open, to
be greeted by a strange vapour-like mist. She tried to move her lips
in an effort to speak. But all she could manage was a croak.
Somehow she felt disconnected from the rest of her body, because
she was unable to move any part of it. Finally, she made another
attempt to speak.
      'Doc-tor... Doc-tor...'
      Although her voice was barely audible, it was enough to
produce an immediate response from the Doctor, who was
somewhere very close by.
      'Victoria! Are you... all right?' He spoke in a strangulated
voice, as if the words were stuck in his throat.
      'I... I can't move... my legs...'
      'I can't move... either... ' Jamie's voice joined them, also from
close by. He sounded like his tongue had become too large for his
mouth. 'Wh - what's happened to us?'
      One thing was clear. The three time-travellers were certainly
not dead, and they were no longer on the beach. They were lying flat
on their backs, head to head, spread-eagled on the floor of some
enormous building, which at the present moment appeared to them as
nothing more than a blurred haze. And all around them, odd sounds.
Bleeping, pumping, thumping, electrical, mechanical.
      Gradually, the haze began to clear. Two blurred shadowy
figures were standing over the trio, each carrying telescopic rifles.
The Doctor managed to focus on them, and regain some of the
strength in his voice.
      'Would you mind telling us where we are?'
       The two blurred figures remained silent, and bent down to take
a closer look. Their faces seemed large and oval, grotesque and
distorted.
       'Why don't you answer?'
       Once again Victoria tried to move, but without success.
'Doctor, what have they done to us?' she wailed. Even the ability to
cry had been denied her. 'I can't move!'
       The Doctor tried rolling the pupils of his eyes, but they felt too
heavy and stiff. 'Don't panic, Victoria. I think we've been
tranquillised.'
       'What!' Jamie was outraged. 'Who do they think they are?'
       'I think it's we who should be asking the questions.' A third
face joined the two blurred figures. The voice was gruff and
bronchial. 'And I shall expect quite a lot of answers.'
       The haze had now completely cleared to reveal a burly-looking
man, probably in his early fifties, with greying hair, a jutting jaw,
and vacant grey eyes. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the two
guards, and studied each of the three helpless figures spread-eagled
before him.
       Jamie found it agonising to try and move the muscles in his
face. 'What is this place?' he croaked.
       The man with the jutting jaw leaned closer, enabling Jamie to
read the large name-patch on his shiny black plastic uniform:
ROBSON, S. CONTROLLER 1. 'You mean you don't know?' said
Robson, the corner of his mouth curling into a cynical smile.
       Jamie glared at the jutting jaw with frustrated anger. 'If I could
just get up... ' he snarled through clenched teeth.
       'I shouldn't try if I were you!' Robson's smile quickly faded.
       'You know, lying in this position, it is rather difficult to
communicate,' said the Doctor. He was right. He and his two
companions did look faintly ridiculous stretched out in such an
undignified position on the floor.
       'Shall we give them some U4, sir?' The voice was that of a
young man in his late twenties. He was a weak-looking individual,
with blue eyes, a pale face and gaunt expression, and a mop of blond,
unruly hair that constantly flopped carelessly over his right eye. His
uniform was too big for him, and he looked as though he could do
with a good meal. He had a cultured way of speaking, which was in
complete contrast to his boss, Robson. His name-patch showed:
HARRIS, F. CONTROLLER 2.
        For a moment, Robson ignored his second-in-command. He
was too occupied staring menacingly into Jamie's eyes.
        Harris tried again. 'Mr Robson, sir. The U4.'
        This time Robson swung an irritated glance at him, as if to
refuse the request. But after quickly thinking better of it, he
straightened up, waved his hand, and strutted off.
        Harris immediately signalled two engineers to come forward.
They were carrying small transparent gas cylinders with mouth-piece
attachments. Harris took one of the cylinders, then all three engineers
knelt down beside the Doctor, Jamie, and Victoria.
        'What are you going to do?' Victoria's eyes rolled from side to
side in helpless panic, as Harris approached her with the cylinder
mouth-piece. 'Keep away from me... no!'
        'It's all right, don't worry,' said Harris, flicking a lock of his
unruly hair out of his eye. 'The U4 will soon bring you round.'
        'No!' Victoria's terrified yell of protest was instantly stifled by
the mouth-piece. The same treatment was also given to the Doctor
and Jamie, and the sound of hissing gas was heard immediately.
        It took just sixty seconds for the U4 to achieve its task. The
first to feel its effect was Jamie, who suddenly felt life returning to
his big toes. He quickly pushed off the mouth-piece, sat up, and
yelled out triumphantly. 'I can move!'
        Seconds later, the Doctor and Victoria were also revived, and
all three were soon on their feet again. At last, they were able to look
around the extraordinary building they had been brought to. It was
indeed a remarkable sight.
        They were standing in what seemed to be some kind of
Communications Control Hall, the nerve-centre of a huge gas
refinery. The Hall was completely circular, like the inside of a
mosque, and it looked as though it had been built entirely of
aluminium and perspex. The floor of the Hall was in fact a well,
flanked all the way around by a narrow observation platform, which
was reached by means of two or three perspex steps. The walls
themselves were almost completely covered by a mass complex of
snake-like pressure tubes, valves, gauges, wheels, handles and levers.
The windows were port-holes, placed at high angles to reveal nothing
but the open sky.
       Dominating the Control Hall itself, however, was the massive
aluminium pipeline, which curled overhead around the walls, out to
the beach, and beyond, to the rigs in the North Sea. On the
observation platform there was a transparent door, through which
could be seen the Impeller Area. Here the giant piston thumped up
and down relentlessly twenty-four hours a day, pumping natural gas
through the main pipeline, out to receiving stations in Southern
England.
       The main communications panel was a towering triangular
shaped cone in the centre of the Hall. The cone contained at least ten
video monitors, and a vast array of satellite computer systems, all
linking the Refinery to its rigs and the outside world. And set on top
of the cone was a huge illuminated panel, showing the actual position
of the rigs out at sea, indicated by flashing coloured lights.
       The Control Hall was manned by a team of engineers and
communication technicians, each of them wearing identical one-
piece uniforms made of a shiny black plastic material with patches
showing each crewman's name and job grading. Only the engineers
wore helmets, and these were made out of reinforced transparent
perspex.
       The Doctor, Jamie, and Victoria stared in wonder at the vast
complex of computerised equipment surrounding them. Lights
flashing, buzzers buzzing, distorted voices calling from video
monitors, sinister figures in black dashing back and forth in frenzied
activity. And behind this, the constant throbbing sound of the giant
piston pump, reverberating around the metallic walls.
       'You were on the beach by the pipeline in a restricted area!
Why?' The Doctor, Victoria, and Jamie turned with a start as
Robson's coarse voice cut through the atmosphere like a rifle shot.
Robson was a crude man: there was no place in his life for
moderation.
       'We were lost, that's all,' said Victoria timidly.
       Robson ignored her. His attention was fixed firmly on the
Doctor. 'You were seen tampering with the emergency release valve
remote controls. You're a saboteur!'
       'He's no such thing!' Victoria suddenly regained her fiery spirit.
'He's a Doctor - well, sort of...'
       The Doctor's face creased up into its usual affable, innocent
smile. 'I can assure you, sir, I was merely being inquisitive.'
       Harris tried to be logical. 'Mr Robson, I don't really see how
these people could've had anything to do with...'
       'When I want your opinion, Harris, I'll ask for it!' Robson's
eyes were bulging with anger. It was perfectly obvious there was no
love lost between the Chief Engineer and his second-in-command. In
fact, Robson had always resented the fact that a young man had been
appointed to the job, and straight out of University at that. 'Lock
them up in one of the cabins. I'll interrogate them later!'
       As he turned, Robson discovered a group of engineers
watching him. 'What are you lot standing around for!' he yelled,
pushing his way past them. 'When are we going to get some work
done around here?' The engineers scattered, and hurried back to their
jobs.
       Jamie watched Robson go, then turned to Harris and asked
scornfully, 'Is he always as charming as that?'
       Harris was clearly embarrassed by his chief's behaviour. 'Well,
we've something of an emergency on at the moment. The fact is,
we've just lost contact with one of our rigs out at sea.
       The Doctor was immediately curious. 'You mean, your
communications system has broken down?'
       'No. It's just that the crew aren't answering.'
       This made Victoria indignant. 'Well, you can't blame us for
that!'
       Harris was unconsciously biting his upper lip. 'There's also
been a drop in pressure in the feed line from the rigs,' he said. Then
he turned to the Doctor with a reproving, suspicious look. 'You were
seen tampering with a release valve on the pipeline.'
       Now it was Jamic's turn to be angry. 'That's no reason for
shooting us down like animals!' His outburst provoked the two armed
guards into moving in closer.
       Harris shrugged his shoulders. 'I'm sorry about that, but you
must realise we're under a security alert and...' he sighed
apologetically, 'I'm afraid I'll have to do as Mr Robson says, and lock
you up. Follow me, please.'
       Harris moved off, followed by Victoria. For a moment, Jamie
stubbornly refused to budge, but after a pacifying look from the
Doctor, he joined the others, closely followed by the two armed
guards.
       As they left, a buzzing sound was heard, and a green light
started flashing excitedly at the top of the Control Cone.

       A young woman approached the Guard Room at the main
entrance of the Refinery. She looked as though she was in her late
twenties, but could have been a little older. Harris's wife, Maggie,
was a beautiful woman, in a very English way. But her peach-like
complexion, dark brunette hair, and strongly defined features,
disguised a firm and determined nature. Maggie was the kind of
woman Harris needed for a wife.
       'Have you a pass, please, madam?' The guard on duty made it
quite clear that no unauthorised person was going to get past him
today.
       'Pass?'
       'We have instructions that no-one is to leave or enter the
Compound without a written pass from Chief Robson. Not until after
the emergency.'
       Maggie was indignant. She knew something odd was going on
at the Refinery today, but this was downright ludicrous. 'But you
know who I am,' she said. The guard shrugged his shoulders. Maggie
stiffened. 'My husband is second-in-command to Chief Robson.'
       'I'm aware of that, Mrs Harris.'
       'Then let me pass, please.' Maggie stepped forward as if to
walk straight past the barrier. To her absolute astonishment, she
found the end of an automatic rifle barrel pointing straight at her
chest.
       The guard stared hard into Maggie's eyes, making it perfectly
obvious that he was taking his job seriously. In a polite, but firm
voice, he said, 'I'm sorry, madam. I think you should return to the
residential block.'
      For a brief moment, Maggie stared back in disbelief at the
guard. But in that split second, she had decided that it is never wise
to argue with a loaded automatic rifle. She turned haughtily, and
swept off towards the compound area. Only one thing was now
uppermost in her mind. Something very odd was indeed going on at
the Refinery today.

       'A movement in the pipeline? Impossible!' Harris was doing
his best to show that he wasn't at all concerned. 'Marine life couldn't
possibly get inside the pipeline tube. It would never get past the
drilling pumps.'
       'Aye. Well, be that as it may,' said Jamie, sitting cross-legged
on the top bunk, 'but there was something in that tube, because I
heard it too!'
       'And so did I,' said Victoria from the lower bunk.
       Harris had brought the Doctor and his companions to one of
the crew cabins in the Control Compound. It was a small, confined
space, with two bunk beds, a wash basin, small desk, wardrobe, and a
ventilator shaft in the wall measuring about four or five feet. It was
more like a prison cell.
       'If the pressure is down in the pipeline, perhaps this is the
reason why.' The Doctor was staring out through the port-hole
window, towards the beach and open sea. 'Marine life has managed
to find a way into the tube.'
       'Impossible!' replied Harris. 'We've spent years of time, money,
and research perfecting our emergency systems.'
       The Doctor smiled wryly. 'Well, perhaps there's a fracture
somewhere along your pipeline, and something's got in that way?'
       Harris had his doubts. And he was shocked when the Doctor
suggested that they turn off the gas flow, at least until they'd had the
chance to find out if there really was a movement in the pipeline.
Harris insisted that Chief Robson would never agree to that.
       'Why not?' said the Doctor, turning from the window.
       Harris lowered his eyes awkwardly. 'Mr Robson prides himself
that the flow has never been shut off since he took charge. He doesn't
believe in working to the book.'
       The Doctor shook his head with a sigh. 'Then he's a very silly
man.'
       'Maybe so,' replied Harris, astutely, 'but he appears to be right
about one thing.' He brushed his usual lock of hair from his eye. 'You
do seem to know quite a lot about what we're doing here.'

       Mick Carney's face was on one of the video monitors at the
Control Cone. Carney had been in charge of the off-shore drilling
Rig D for the past nine months, and had increased gas flow
production by nearly four percent.
       'Carney! What the hell's going on out there?' Robson was
yelling out his frustration at the video monitor. For the past few
hours, contact had been lost with Rig D, throwing the Refinery's
communication network into disarray.
       'Everything's quite all right, Mr Robson,' Carney's voice was
calm and barely audible. Although he was a man only in his mid-
thirties, his appearance had visibly changed during the past twenty-
four hours. His face was white, eyes sunken, and hair flecked with
grey streaks. 'We have the situation under control, sir.'
       'What? What did you say?' Robson was straining to hear
Carney's faint voice. 'Speak up man! I can't hear a word you're
saying!'
       Carney merely smiled back without saying a word. He had a
strange look in his eyes.
       Robson turned quickly to David Price, the video operator.
'What's wrong with this thing? Are we losing volume?'
       'No, sir. It's nothing to do with us. I don't understand it.' Price
adjusted the controls, and spoke louder towards the monitor. 'Mr
Carney, could you speak a little louder, please?'
       'Everything... is under control... ' Carney's voice was quite
lifeless, almost as though he was day-dreaming.
       Robson snapped back impatiently. 'What about the emergency
crew we sent out to you? Have they arrived yet?'
       'They must stay here now... stay here...'
       'Do what?' Robson leaned forward, squinted at the monitor.
       'Accident... slight accident... ' Carney's voice was now no more
than a whisper. 'Two men... out of action...'
       For a brief moment, the frenzied activity in the Control Hall
came to an abrupt halt. All eyes were turned towards the video
monitor.
       Robson's patience finally cracked. 'Now you listen to me,
Carney. I want that rig back into working operation right away!' And
raising his voice to a shout: 'Do you hear me, Carney!'
       Carney's face remained impassive, his eyes showing no sign of
life. All he could be heard mumbling was, '... control... everything...
under control...
       'Carney! Carney!'
       Even as Robson was yelling out, Carney's voice faded, and the
video picture started to break up. Suddenly, the screen was blank.
       'Come in, Rig D. Come in, please!' Price was anxiously
adjusting every control switch he could lay his hands on. 'I think
we've lost contact again, sir!'
       'Well, fix it, man!' Robson turned angrily from the Control
Cone, to find himself face-to-face with Harris.
       'Mr Robson, I think we should turn off the gas flow coming in
from the rigs, and make a check,' he suggested.
       If looks could kill, Robson would have been responsible for
Harris's instant death. 'You think what, Mr Harris?'
       Harris took a deep breath. 'That Doctor chap - the stranger - he
said he heard a movement coming from inside the pipeline on the
beach.'
       'Oh, did he now?' replied Robson cynically, his jutting jaw
more protruding than ever. 'And did he say what he thought it was?
Mice?'
       'Mr Robson!' The chief engineer, sweat streaming down his
face, was calling from the open door of the Impeller Area. 'She's
down another three. Pressure's just on one-fifty-seven.'
       Robson called back. He was clearly shocked. 'One-fifty-seven!
Are you sure?'
       'Absolutely, sir.'
       Harris quickly followed Robson towards the Impeller Area.
'That means pressure is down at the rate of three thousand cubic feet
every...' he checked his watch, '... every twenty minutes. This
definitely proves that something is blocking the pipeline.'
       'It proves nothing of the sort.' Robson had reached the steps
leading up to the observation platform. 'If anything, it's a faulty
gauge.'
       'At least give us the benefit of the doubt,' pleaded Harris. 'Let's
check the inside of that pipeline.'
       Robson turned suddenly. The veins in his forehead were
swelling out in anger. 'For the last time Mr Harris - no!'
       'Mr Robson, listen to me!' For once, Harris was determined to
be heard. 'This all ties up with what I've been trying to tell you. For
three weeks now there's been a regular and increasing build-up and
fall in pressure. The time ratios correspond to form a definite
progressive pattern.'
       'Statistics! Always statistics!'
       Harris persisted. 'At least look at my calculations.'
       'All right! All right!' Robson's patience was running out fast.
'Go and get your stupid bits of paper, and I'll show you where you've
gone wrong!'
       Harris rushed across to his desk to collect the file he was
referring to. His briefcase was lying on top of the desk. He quickly
opened it, and felt inside. His shock was immediate. 'It's gone!' He
turned, calling back to Robson who was watching him from the
observation platform. 'The file - it's gone!'
       There was a knowing look on Robson's face. 'Well, well, well,
has it now?'
       Harris was desperately tipping out the contents of his briefcase
onto the desk. Some pencils, a newspaper, and a portable sonic
calculator. But no file. 'I'm sure I put it in here this morning. I must
have left the file in my desk at home.' He started to move off. 'I'll go
and get it...
       'You stay right where you are, Harris!' Robson's bronchial
voice echoed across the Control Hall. 'I'm not doing your job here as
well as my own!'
       Harris glared back defiantly. 'What's the matter, sir? Are you
afraid I might prove you wrong?'
       Robson couldn't believe his ears. This was the first time
anyone in the Refinery had dared to challenge him about anything.
And this, coming from a young upstart straight out of a red-brick
University. He was about to yell back at Harris when he suddenly
realised the entire Control Hall crew were watching him. He strolled
back casually to Harris, stared him straight in the eyes and said
quietly, 'All right, boy. Go and get your little pieces of paper. But
you'd better have something more than a high-flown theory to show
me. Because if you haven't, I'm going to kick you right back into that
University - where you belong!'

       In the crew cabin, Jamie was perched perilously on the
Doctor's shoulders, peering out through a small metal grille above the
door.
       'See anything?' The Doctor called in a hushed voice.
       Jamie looked along the corridor outside, then whispered back
down to the Doctor, 'All clear.' He started to pull out the metal grille.
       'Don't bother, Jamie,' called Victoria. 'I can do it with this.' She
took a hairpin from her hair, and held it up for Jamie to see.
       'Och! Don't be so stupid! Ye canna pick a door lock with a
hairpin.'
       The Doctor squirmed as he took the weight of Jamie on his
shoulders. Suddenly, there was a loud bang as Jamie pulled out the
metal grille, and accidentally dropped it to the floor.
       'Clumsy!' Victoria had her fingers in her ears.
       Jamie glared at her, then struggled to pull himself through the
very narrow opening left by the grille. Victoria ignored him, and
started to tackle the door lock with her hairpin.
       In the corridor outside, Jamie was half-way through the
opening above the crew cabin door. Although agile, he did, in fact,
look very clumsy as he tried to pull himself through the narrow
opening. Suddenly, he froze. Someone was coming along the
corridor. He quickly closed his eyes, hoping he wouldn't be noticed.
       Maggie Harris approached, just in time to see her husband
coming down the corridor in the opposite direction. To Jamie's
horror, they stopped to talk just below him.
       'Maggie! Where've you been? I've been trying to contact you.'
Harris was on edge after his exchange with Robson.
       'I was going into the village, but Robson's clamped down on
security.' Maggie's hair was windblown from the rough weather
outside. 'I was on my way to see you to get a pass.'
       'Yes. There's been a bit of a flap on!'
       'Well, can you get me a pass?'
       'At the moment - not a hope. Now, listen carefully, Maggie. I
want you to do something for me!'
       Jamie strained to hear what Harris was saying.
       'There's a file - it's probably in the top drawer of my desk in the
study. Could you go and get it, and bring it to me here?'
       Maggie agreed, but looked puzzled. 'What's the panic?' she
said.
       'I'll explain later. Fast as you can!'
       Harris was gone before Maggie had a chance to answer. She
paused, just long enough to watch him disappear along the corridor,
then hurried off back the same way she came.
       Jamie breathed a sigh of relief, then indicated for the Doctor to
push him through.
       Inside the crew cabin, the Doctor and Victoria were looking up
at Jamie's dangling feet.
       'He's stuck!' Victoria giggled, and went back to work on the
door lock with her hairpin.
       'Hold on, Jamie!' called the Doctor, finding a stool to stand on.
'Here we go!' He grabbed hold of Jamie's feet, and gave them one
final push.
       In the corridor outside, Jamie fell with a thud to the floor.
       'I told you not to bother!' Jamie looked up to find Victoria
standing over him, smugly putting the hairpin back into her hair.
       The Doctor came out of the crew cabin. 'Sorry about that,
Jamie.' He and Victoria had broad grins on their faces as they hurried
off down the corridor. Jamie glared at them, then followed.
       Harris's apartment was one of many scattered around the
Refinery Compound and was some distance from most of the other
married quarters. There was nothing luxurious about the apartment. It
was functional, with most of the furniture made out of the same
transparent perspex material used in the Refinery. There were four
main rooms: a lounge/diner, kitchen, bedroom, and study. Maggie's
one personal touch was the various tropical plants creeping up the
walls, some of them looking like prehistoric creatures attempting to
take over the place. But the harsh East Anglian winds were not
hospitable to the tropical immigrants, and their survival during the
winter months depended wholly on the constant flow of gas central
heating.
       Maggie's hair was glistening with snowflakes as she hurried in,
and used all her strength to close the front door against the biting
gale-force wind outside. Then she turned, and quickly made her way
to the study.
       Maggie went straight to Harris's desk. It was, as usual,
cluttered with papers and books. 'Top drawer,' she said to herself,
opening the drawer and searching it: Nothing there except stationery
and technical photographs. Then she searched the other two drawers.
The same.
       Just as she was about to give up the search, Maggie caught a
glimpse of the file Harris had asked her for. It was partly submerged
beneath the papers on top of the desk. She started clearing the papers,
but suddenly stopped with a shocked start. Something was spread out
on top of the file.
       It was a small clump of seaweed.
       Maggie couldn't believe her eyes. What was such a thing doing
inside the apartment? Wet and slimy, pitted with bubbles and
streaked with veins, the intruder was the last thing Maggie expected
to find sitting on top of a file on her husband's desk. She took a
closer look. 'Where the hell did you come from?' she said, as if
expecting a reply. The seaweed clump was glistening beneath the
glare of the desk lamp. Maggie sighed. 'Ah well. Out you go... ' She
put her hand out to remove the clump. In one swift, terrifying
movement, the seaweed clump suddenly sprang to life, wrapped
itself around Maggie's hand, then dropped to the floor. Maggie
screamed out in agony, as though stung by a bee or wasp.
       For a moment, Maggie just stood there, shaking with fright,
clutching her injured hand, staring in disbelief at the now lifeless
seaweed clump on the floor. Then, in one angry impetuous
movement, she quickly picked up the seaweed, rushed into the
kitchen with it, and frantically threw it out the back door.
       The Harris's verandah outside the kitchen was protected from
the snow by a slanting perspex roof and wind-breakers. Pots of
winter-flowering shrubs were surviving the extreme cold, but not so
the concrete floor which had been cracked by the endless hard frosts.
The seaweed clump was on that floor now, where Maggie had
thrown it. It seemed out of place there: wet, slimy, and ominously
still.
       Then there came a thumping, heartbeat sound. The bubbles on
the surface of the seaweed clump started to pop, followed by a
hissing sound: the sound of escaping gas...
                           3
                A Pair of White Gloves
       Pieter van Lutyens had never liked Controller Robson, not
from the first day he set eyes on him. The Dutchman had always
found Robson to be arrogant, opinionated, and thoroughly ruthless to
his crewmen. Two years ago, van Lutyens had been appointed by his
government to serve as a technical adviser to the Refinery, at the
request of the British Euro-Gas Corporation. He was a likeable little
man, dumpy, balding, quick-witted, the very personification of
someone who has learnt how to get on well with people. With most
people that is - except Robson.
       'Van Lutyens, are you trying to tell me how to do my job?'
Robson was glaring again. He was on the observation platform in the
Control Hall, checking out computer flow levels.
       'Mr Robson,' van Lutyens spoke English with no trace of an
accent, 'the morale of the men out on those rigs is extremely low.
We've got to do something about it!'
       'I make the decisions around here, my friend - not you!'
Robson turned his back on the Dutchman and continued what he was
doing.
       Van Lutyens refused to be ignored. He gripped the platform
hand rail, and called up to Robson. 'You don't understand! I've just
come back from the Control Rig. The men are behaving strangely.
They are being affected by something out there in the sea.'
       'You're here to advise me on any technical problems, not to
spread alarm amongst my crews,' retorted Robson.
       Van Lutyens was gripping the hand rail so tightly that his
knuckles were turning white. 'Why won't you ever listen to the facts?'
       Robson swung around angrily. 'Now you listen to me, van
Lutyens. It was Megan Jones and those fools on the Board who sent
you here. I told them it would never work. And it hasn't!'
       'Only because you are too proud to accept advice.'
         'Let's get something straight, my friend.' Robson pointed his
finger menacingly at van Lutyens. 'When I need your advice, I'll ask
for it!'
         Van Lutyens managed a wry smile. 'By then it will be too late.'
         Just above where Robson and van Lutyens were having their
tense exchange, three faces appeared at an upper corridor window
overlooking the Control Hall. It was the Doctor, Jamie, and Victoria.
Slowly, quietly, they eased open the window. As they did so, there
was a flurry of activity at the Communications Cone.
         'Mr Robson!' Price's voice boomed out above the deafening
thumping sound of the giant impeller. 'I've got Chief Baxter at
Control Rig, sir. He's on Video Three.'
         Robson immediately broke away from van Lutyens, and
hurried across to the Cone. Chief Baxter's face was on the Video
Three monitor. He looked tired and strained.
         'Yes, Baxter? What is it?'
         Baxter was one of the most experienced drilling engineers in
the North Sea gas fields. Now a man in his late fifties, he was once
tipped to take on the job that eventually went to Robson. But Baxter
was too vital to the off-shore drilling exploration programme, so he
was given command of the Control Rig.
         'Has Mr van Lutyens arrived yet, sir?'
         'Yes, he's here!' snapped Robson. 'Why?'
         Baxter coughed slightly. It was just a dry cough, more a
clearing of the throat. But it was noticeable. 'He's told you then, sir? I
mean - about how the men feel out here?'
         'Look, Baxter - I'm running this outfit, not Mr van Lutyens.
You take your orders from me!'
         'Yes I know sir, but - ' he coughed again, 'there's something
else.' As he spoke now, there were signs of breathlessness.
'Something... seems to have got inside the pipeline.'
         Everyone in the Control Hall stopped what they were doing.
All eyes were turned towards the Video Three monitor.
         Robson squinted at the monitor screen, as though he was short-
sighted. 'What the hell are you talking about, man?'
         There were beads of sweat on Baxter's forehead. He dabbed it
with his handkerchief. 'I know it sounds ridiculous, sir. But whatever
it is, it's in the tubes feeding in from the other rigs. We've all heard
it.'
        Van Lutyens had now joined Robson, staring anxiously at the
screen. 'Heard?' said Robson. 'Heard what?'
        'This sound...' Baxter's voice was becoming more and more
breathless. 'At first... I thought it was something to do with the
pumps. But... it isn't. It's a... peculiar sound... a sort of regular
thumping... pulsating.' For a split second it seemed that he held his
breath, then said, 'It's like listening to the sound of your own
heartbeat.'
        'That's it!' said the Doctor in his hidden vantage point. He
rubbed his hands together excitedly. 'That's exactly what I heard in
the pipeline down on the beach.'
        Victoria bit her lip nervously. 'Yes, Doctor, but what is that
sound?'
        The Doctor's exuberance quickly subsided. 'I don't know,
Victoria. But we're going to find out. Come on, Jamie!' Jamie was
perplexed. 'Where're we going?'
        'I want to take another look at that pipeline.'
        The Doctor and Jamie left the window, and started to move off
down the corridor. As they did so, Victoria tagged on behind. But the
Doctor stopped suddenly, and turned. 'Er - no, Victoria. Not you.'
        Victoria looked hurt. 'Oh - why not?'
        'Not the sort of job for a young girl,' said the Doctor. And
when Victoria was about to object, he merely had to smile at her like
a protective uncle and say, 'Better go back and wait in the crew
cabin. We shan't be long. Please?'
        As usual, the Doctor won Victoria over, and she reluctantly
made her way back to the cabin. As soon as the Doctor and Jamie
were out of sight however, she sneaked off down another corridor to
do a little snooping of her own.

      In the bedroom of the Harris's apartment, Maggie was not
feeling at all well. Her hand was swelling up from the sting she had
received from the seaweed clump, and she began to feel drowsy and
disoriented. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she closed her eyes,
rubbed them, then opened them again. She looked around her.
Everything seemed to be just very slightly out of focus.
       The room was suddenly flooded by a burst of sunshine.
Maggie gradually eased herself up from the bed, steadied herself, and
went to the window.
       The snow had stopped falling, and that which had settled was
beginning to thaw. But the sky was still a relentless sheet of dark
grey, relieved only by an unexpected chink of sunlight. Maggie
looked up and felt the brief caress of warmth on her cheeks. But the
glare was too much, so she quickly shielded her eyes with one hand,
and left the room.
       By the time she reached the kitchen, Maggie was feeling very
shaky indeed. She made straight for the internal communications
video, set in the wall above the dishwasher, then, using the remote
control transmitter, tapped out three numbers. Almost immediately,
Price's face appeared on the monitor screen. 'Control!'
       Cold beads of sweat were pouring down Maggie's face, and
she found it hard to speak: 'M - Mrs Harris. Married Q - Quarters
Block 420. Is m - my husband there p-please?'
       'We have an emergency on here at the moment, Mrs Harris. Is
anything wrong?' asked Price.
       'C-could you please f-find him. Tell him... tell him I'm not
feeling very well.'
       'Right away, Mrs Harris!' Price's face disappeared from the
monitor screen.
       Maggie found her way to a chair at the kitchen table by the
back door. Her head was now throbbing with pain. As she sat there,
her mind became restless and confused. She could hear voices, all
talking together at the same time. Dozens of them. Hundreds.
       Suddenly, she looked up with a start. The voices had gone, to
be replaced immediately by another, more positive sound. Thumping.
Pulsating. Maggie's eyes were rivetted towards the back door. The
thumping sound was becoming louder, and louder. It was like
listening to the sound of her own heartbeat...

      At the Refinery, someone was moving around in the darkness
of the Oxygen Store Room. He was tall and thin, and was clothed
from head to foot in a white tunic, trousers, cap, and gloves. Only the
face of the mysterious figure could not be seen. It was hidden behind
a rubber gas mask.
      Slowly, methodically, the white gloved hands felt their way
along the rows of emergency oxygen cylinders. Finally, they selected
one, broke the seal on the cylinder cap, and turned on the tap.
Immediately, a hissing sound was heard. White gloves moved on,
then did the same with two other cylinders. Gradually, the hissing
sound increased.
      Suddenly, the masked figure turned in alarm towards the door.

       Victoria was snooping around the corridor outside. She tried
the handle of a door marked LABORATORY 2. It was locked. She
turned with a start. Footsteps were approaching the far end of the
corridor. She looked around frantically for the quickest means of
escape. On the opposite side of the corridor was a door marked
OXYGEN EMERGENCY SUPPLY. She tried the handle and the door
opened. She rushed in. As she did so, Harris came hurrying down the
corridor.
       Inside the Oyxgen Store Room, Victoria listened at the door.
The sound of Harris's footsteps outside gradually disappeared.
Victoria breathed a sigh of relief.
       As she was about to leave the room, Victoria heard the hissing
sound of escaping oxygen. She tried to turn on the light, but it wasn't
working. The fumes started to make her cough a little, so she covered
her mouth with one hand. "Then she quickly felt her way around in
the dark, searching the racks of cylinders to find out where the
escaping gas was coming from. Within a moment or so, she had
managed to turn off all the taps.
       The room was now silent again, and Victoria began to recover
from the overpowering atmosphere. It was only then that she realised
she was not alone. She slowly looked around, her eyes desperately
trying to penetrate the eerie darkness of the room.
       'Who's there?' Her voice was no more than a timid whisper.
       Suddenly, a shaft of light from the corridor outside, beamed
straight onto Victoria's face. Standing in the open doorway was the
sinister gas-masked figure. Victoria made a rush for the door, only to
find it slammed closed before she could get there. She frantically
tried turning the handle, but in the corridor outside, a pair of white-
gloved hands turned the key in the lock of the Oyxgen Room door.
       'Let me out of here!' yelled Victoria, struggling to open the
door. But the door was very firmly locked, and once again she was a
prisoner. For a moment, she just stood there in the dark, alone and
frightened. Then she quickly took the hairpin from her hair, and set
to work on the door lock.
       By this time, white-gloved hands in the corridor outside were
poised over a wall unit which controlled temperature and ventilation
inside the Oyxgen Room. Across the unit were printed the words:
EMERGENCY VENTILATOR. White-gloved hands turned the dial
switch to OPEN.
       Victoria turned with a start. There was an electronic hum
coming from somewhere behind her in the dark. Instinctively, she
fumbled for the light switch on the wall, and, to her surprise, this
time it came on. Her attention was immediately focussed to the other
side of the room. The flaps of a huge ventilator grill were sliding
open.
       The electronic hum continued for what seemed like an eternity.
Victoria's nerve was beginning to break, and she started tapping
gently on the door. 'Hallo!' she called, hardly daring to raise her
voice. Is anyone there? For goodness sake, where is everybody?'
       As she spoke, the electronic hum came to an abrupt halt.
       In the few moments of silence that followed, Victoria, face
pressed up against the door, closed her eyes, hoping that what was
happening to her was nothing but a terrible dream. Or was it a
nightmare? Her heart was pounding, thumping. At least, that's what
she thought she could hear. But the sound was becoming too loud,
too intense. And then suddenly, there was another sound - a hissing
and popping. Victoria's eyes sprang open, and she gasped with
horror. On the other side of the room, a vast mass of white sea foam
was bursting through the ventilator grille. And while Victoria looked
on helplessly, something began to emerge from the foam...

      The Doctor and Jamie had found their way to the Impeller
Area. The place was deserted, but, by peering through a transparent
connecting door, they could see Robson, van Lutyens, and the crew,
all working in a tense atmosphere in the Control Hall. The noise from
the giant impeller was deafening, so the Doctor signalled to Jamie to
follow him through another transparent door, this one marked:
PIPELINE ROOM.
       The Doctor peered around the door. No-one there. He entered
cautiously, with Jamie close behind. The room they were now in was
large and rectangular in shape, with a complex of vertical pressure
tubes running up the walls. And once again there were ventilator
grilles everywhere, including one enormous grille cut into the wall in
a far corner of the room.
       Jamie was immediately interested in a huge section of
transparent pipeline, which curved down from the ceiling and
disappeared into the floor. 'Is this the pipeline?' he said.
       'Yes, part of it.' The Doctor climbed up two steps to the
observation platform. 'All these pipes are a continuation of the
pipeline we found on the beach.'
       'Aye. But you can see inside that bit.'
       The Doctor was taking a close look at the pipeline tube
section. He breathed on it, rubbed it with his coat-sleeve, then peered
inside. 'The transparent part is for checking for condensation,' he
said. Then he turned to Jamie with a wry grin. 'And anything else that
might get inside...'

       In the Oyxgen Room, Victoria was too chilled with terror to
call for help. Her eyes were transfixed on the ventilator grille, where
the tendrils of an enormous seaweed creature were rising up out of
the mass of white foam, which was now gushing into the room.
       The weed creature had no shape or form. There seemed to be
no head or eyes or mouth, no features of' any kind to compare it with
any known form of marine life. This was a living algae, grown to
mammoth proportions, hissing and popping, slithering its way
through the ventilator grille, into the very heart of the Refinery itself.
       Victoria, cowering against the door, was finding it difficult to
breathe. The atmosphere was stifling. She started to cough. Finally,
in desperation, she started thumping on the the door as loud as she
could.
     'Let me out!' she yelled. 'Somebody let me out of here!'
     The foam was spreading across the room, closer and closer
towards Victoria, whose calls for help were being completely
overwhelmed by the swelling sound of the creature's heartbeat...

      'There it is, Jamie! Can you hear it?'
      The Doctor was listening through his stethoscope, which was
pressed up against the wall of the transparent pipeline tube. His face
was tense and anxious.
      Jamie could also hear the deadly sound, pulsating, thumping,
pounding through the pipeline. He swallowed hard, and said, 'Aye.
What is it?'
      'It's the same sound I heard in the pipeline on the beach. I tell
you, there's definitely something inside the...'
      A penetrating scream suddenly echoed along the pipeline.
There was no mistaking who it belonged to.
      'Doctor! Jamie!' Victoria was screaming hysterically. 'Help
me!'
      'That's Victoria!' said Jamie, staring inside the pipeline tube as
if expecting to see Victoria trapped inside.
      'Help me!'
      The Doctor and Jamie wasted no more time. They left the
pipeline tube, and rushed straight out of the room.

      Victoria's frenzied calls for help were soon reverberating
around the entire Refinery.
      In the Control Hall, the commotion caused chaos amongst the
crew. Everyone was trying to establish where the screams were
coming from. Van Lutyens rushed off to the Impeller Area, leaving
Robson to stare in confused disbelief at the pipeline tube running
around the walls.

     'Doctor! Jamie! Help me!'
     Victoria's calls were becoming more and more desperate, more
and more hysterical.
      The Doctor and Jamie were rushing from one corridor to
another, but although Victoria's voice seemed to be getting closer and
closer, they still couldn't fmd out how to get to her.
      'Victoria!' yelled Jamie at the top of his voice.
      'Victoria!' The Doctor's shouts were becoming frantic. 'Can
you hear us, Victoria?'
      A penetrating, prolonged scream.
      The Doctor and Jamie stopped dead, and turned
simultaneously.
      Both of them were staring at the door of the Oxygen Store
Room.

      The thumping heartbeat sound was almost deafening. And, as
thick white foam surged uncontrollably through the ventilator grille
of the Oxygen Room, the tendrils of the Weed Creature weaved and
quivered towards Victoria, closer and closer, hissing and popping...
      Victoria screamed just one more time.
                         4
                 Mr Oak and Mr Quill
      'Gas!' said the Doctor, listening to the hissing sound coming
from beneath the door of the Oxygen Store Room.
      Jamie was unable to answer. He was almost overcome by a
violent fit of sneezing.
      The Doctor tried to open the door. It was locked, with no sign
of the key. 'Victoria!' he shouted, thumping on the door. 'Are you in
there?'
      Victoria's reply came almost immediately from the other side
of the door. But her voice was now faint and barely audible.
'Doctor...'
      'She's in there!' yelled the Doctor. 'Come on, Jamie!'
      'Doctor... help me...
      'We're coming, Victoria! Hold on!'
      The Doctor and Jamie folded arms, and stood back a pace or
so. 'One... two... three!' With one enormous effort they lunged at the
door, which burst open immediately.
      Victoria was lying in a heap on the floor of the Oyxgen Room.
Her eyes were half-open, and she could hardly breathe.
      'Quick, Jamie!' said the Doctor, covering her mouth with his
hand. 'Get hold of her!'
      Jamie let out the most deafening sneeze, then helped the
Doctor to lift Victoria and carry her out into the corridor.
      'What's going on here?' Robson's rasping voice boomed out
from the other end of' the corridor. 'Who let you three out of the
cabin?'
      The Doctor and Jamie ignored him. They were too busy
helping Victoria to revive.
      Robson came hurrying clown the corridor. Van Lutyens and
the Chief Engineer were with him, but they went straight into the
Oyxgen Store Room.
        'Did you hear what I said?' Robson was yelling again. 'I gave
strict orders that - '
        'Mr Robson!' Van Lutyens, covering his mouth with his hand,
was at the door of the Oxygen Room. 'In here. Gas!'
        'Then find out what it is.'
        Van Lutyens disappeared back into the Oxygen Room.
        The colour was gradually returning to Victoria's pale cheeks.
'It was horrible!' she said to the Doctor, still struggling to breath
clearly. 'That awful creature. What was it?'
        The Doctor was immediately tense. 'Creature?'
        'You... you didn't see it?' She turned around to look back into
the Oxygen Room. 'In there?'
        The Doctor, Jamie, and Robson looked into the room. It was
now fully lit.
        'It came... straight at me... an awful hissing sound... and foam...
and it was covered in weed or something... oh, I don't know...'
Recounting her ordeal was clearly distressing Victoria. Her eyes
were wide with fear. 'It came closer... and closer. Then I screamed,
and...' She covered her face with her hands, and dissolved into tears.
        'It's all right, Victoria,' said the Doctor, holding her close in his
arms protectively. 'You're quite safe now.'
        Robson was glaring at Victoria cynically. 'Creatures indeed.
The girl's hysterical!'
        'Mr Robson!'
        Robson turned to find the Chief Engineer standing in the
doorway of the Oxygen Room.
        'Some of the cylinders are empty! The seals are broken.'
        Robson swung back angrily to Victoria. 'What have you been
up to in there?'
        Victoria wiped tears from her cheeks with the back of her
hand, then replied quickly. 'I was hiding. I heard someone coming,
and just went in.'
        Robson was glaring at her. 'You broke in, didn't you?'
        'No!'
        'This door is always kept locked. You broke in and emptied
those cylinders!'
       'That's not true!' Victoria was regaining her defiant spirit. 'The
door was open. Someone locked it behind me.'
       Jamie stepped forward. He looked as though he was ready to
strike Robson. 'She's telling the truth,' he said menacingly. 'The door
was locked from the outside.'
       'Mr Robson!'
       The interruption of van Lutyens's voice was good excuse for
Robson to ignore Jamie's threatening glare, and to go off into the
Oxygen Room.
       Van Lutyens and the Chief Engineer were removing their gas
masks as Robson, the Doctor, Jamie, and Victoria entered the
Oxygen Store Room. Everything seemed to be perfectly normal, and
not at all as Victoria had described her encounter with the Weed
Creature.
       'Now what?' snapped Robson, impatiently.
       Van Lutyens finished closing a tap on one of the oxygen
cylinders, then turned to Robson with a grave, puzzled expression.
'This room wasn't full of oxygen when we arrived,' he said. 'It was
another gas, one of a toxic composition if I'm not mistaken.'
       'Toxic?' Robson looked at the Dutchman as though he had
gone stark raving mad. 'Are you trying to tell me it was a poisonous
gas?'
       'Exactly, sir.'
       Robson paused a moment, trying to take it all in. His eyes
flicked hurriedly around the room. 'Where did it come from?'
       'From there possibly.' This time it was the Doctor who was
speaking. He was inspecting the open ventilator grille.
       The others came across to join him.
       'Did you open this ventilator?' Van Lutyens asked Victoria.
       Victoria was firm in her reply. 'No! It opened itself!'
       'The person who locked you in must've done it,' said Jamie,
running his fingers over the wire mesh of the grille. 'But how?'
       The Doctor and van Lutyens were investigating the ventilator
control panel on the wall. Its position on the dial was indicating
OPEN.
       Maggie Harris was having difficulty in breathing. From the
moment she had been stung by the clump of seaweed, her mind had
become confused and disoriented. In fact, there was very little she
could remember of what actually happened to her, even though it had
been less than half an hour ago. To add to that, she had a hacking
cough, a piercing headache, and a pain in her injured hand that felt as
though she was supporting a heavy weight.
       'What is it, love?' Frank Harris was sitting with his wife on the
bed, deeply concerned by her condition.
       'I don't know... I feel so drowsy... and my hand...' Maggie was
aimlessly rubbing her injured hand without actually looking at it.
       'Let me see.' Harris gently took her hand, and looked at it
closely. He could see no visible signs of any kind of sting, not even a
swelling. 'It looks all right. What happened?'
       Maggie had a vacant look in her eyes. 'I... I don't remember.'
       Harris was watching his wife carefully. He was alarmed by her
uncharacteristic lack of energy. He said quietly, 'You said you were
stung or something?'
       'Stung?' Maggie had to think about it for a moment. Then,
without shifting her eyes, she said, 'Yes. Yes, it must've been that. I...
I found the file you asked for... ' She stopped, turned to look her
husband straight in the eyes, and gradually eased herself up from the
bed. Her mind was wandering strangely. 'I wasn't allowed to take it.'
       Harris stood up, cupped his wife's face gently between his
hands, and asked, 'Who wouldn't allow you?'
       Maggie had that vacant look in her eyes again. 'I... I don't
know... ' Then, with a sudden flash of unexpected anger, she pulled
Harris's hands away from her and said, 'It was the seaweed!'
       Harris was just in time to catch Maggie as she collapsed. 'All
right love,' he said, trying not to panic. 'Just lie down and rest.' He
lowered her back onto the bed, and made her comfortable. He
smoothed her forehead with his hand, then kissed it gently. 'What
you could do with is some food.'
       Although Maggie's eyes were closed, she managed a more
characteristic smile. 'Poor darling,' she said softly. 'You can't even
boil an egg!'
        Harris laughed. He was relieved that this was more like the
Maggie he knew and loved. 'It serves you right for marrying a
scientist...'
        Maggie's recovery was short-lived. Her smile quickly faded,
and with her eyes still closed, she slowly raised her head from the
pillow. She seemed to be listening to something.
        Harris, alarmed again, took hold of Maggie's shoulders.
'Darling? What is it?'
        Maggie's face was absolutely rigid. Her mind was focussed
elsewhere, drowned beneath a series of alien sounds which raced in
and out of her subconscious like the endless roar of jetliners. The
subliminal images she was receiving were coming from her own
kitchen patio outside. She could 'see' the seaweed clump where she
had thrown it, nestling in a bed of foam. And the bubbles and the
weed popping, to emit a gaseous vapous. And the relentless hissing,
thumping, heartbeat sound, growing in intensity, tearing into
Maggie's brain until she could bear it no more...
        Maggie's eyes sprang open suddenly. She was staring straight
into Harris's face. It looked distorted, like a gargoyle.
        'What is it, love?' Harris was shaking her. 'Tell me!'
        His voice seemed to boom out like thunder, and Maggie
clutched her ears in pain.
        'Are you ill, Maggie? Tell me!'
        It took Maggie a moment or so to focus. When she did, her
voice was barely audible. 'I... I don't know,' she whispered. 'I just
feel... I don't know...'
        Harris became immediately urgent. He lowered Maggie's head
gently to the pillow, and said, 'I'm going back to see if Doc
Patterson's returned from the rig yet.' He stood up, pulled the duvet
over Maggie, and tucked her in. 'Will you be all right?'
        Maggie didn't answer. She closed her eyes again, and just
nodded her head.
        Harris kissed her gently on the forehead, then went to the door.
'If Doc Patterson's not back, there's another Doctor that's turned up at
the Refinery. He may be able to help.'
        Again Maggie didn't answer. She seemed to be falling asleep.
        Harris took one last anxious look at his wife, then left.
       For a moment or so, Maggie remained still and silent. She was
breathing heavily, but felt no real discomfort.
       As the thaw continued outside, long icicles from the roof
began to melt. Their intermittent dripping sounds onto the window-
sill could almost have been notes from a song. A warning song
perhaps.
       Maggie was falling deeper and deeper into sleep. The song of
the icicles could have been a million years away in comparison to the
sounds that were again creeping into her subconscious. Thumping.
Pulsating. The pounding of a heartbeat.
       Maggie's eyes sprang open. But she was not awake. The
thumping sound was closer, and she lay there listening to it. Then,
almost as though on the word of a command, she threw off the duvet,
rose up from the bed, and walked slowly towards the door. As she
left the room, the last of the icicles outside finally melted.
       Out into the hall, then into the kitchen. Maggie had no sense of
where she was, or what she was doing. Her eyes were wide open, but
she was fast asleep. She was living through a nightmare where some
mystical force was commanding her to do something. But what?
       As Maggie entered the kitchen, the heartbeat sounds were
becoming louder and louder, faster and faster. The door! The door to
the back patio! That's where Maggie was determined to go, had to
go. But she didn't know why. Like an ethereal angel, she seemed to
glide across the kitchen floor, step by perilous step, closer and closer
towards her destiny. At last, she was at the door. Her hands blindly
searched for the handle. They clasped it with a grip of iron. Slowly, it
began to turn...
       Maggie paused. Her own heartbeat was now competing with
the one on the other side of that door. In one swift movement, she
pulled open the door.
       The noise was horrific. Thumping. Pulsating. Shrieking.
Hissing. The seaweed clump was expanding in size, out of control.
       Maggie clutched her ears in agony, slammed the door, and
locked it. Rubbing her eyes, struggling to breathe, she just stood with
her back to the door, totally bewildered. It was as though she had
suddenly been awoken from a night-mare.
        'What's all the panic?' Robson was pushing his way through a
crowd of engineers who were anxiously watching a cluster of meters
on the wall of the Impeller Area.
        'It's the pump, sir!' said the Chief Engineer, urgently. The
strain of the past few hours was beginning to catch up on him, for his
eyes were glazed with tiredness. 'The revs have dropped.'
        'The pump is slowing down, ja?' Van Lutyens was clearly
shocked by this new development, for it was very rare that he slipped
back into his native language, even one word of it.
        The Chief Engineer tapped one of the meters with two of his
fingers, then checked it for any change in movement. 'She's not
holding steady even now,' he said nervously. 'I don't understand it!'
        'Well, don't just stand there looking at it, man!' Robson was
literally pushing the other engineers out of his way. 'Do a complete
check!'
        'Excuse me. D'you mind if I make a suggestion?'
        Robson turned around with a glare to see the Doctor calling
from the back of the group.
        'When I was in your pipeline room just a short while ago, I
distinctly heard some kind of movement coming from inside the
pipeline tube. It was identical to the movement I heard coming from
inside the pipeline on the beach,' said the Doctor in a stern voice. 'A
thumping, pulsating type of sound.'
        Van Lutyens immediately became very animated. 'That is what
they heard out on the rigs!'
        'Nonsense!' snarled Robson, aware that alarm was being
generated amongst his crew. 'What they heard and what everyone's
heard is a mechanical fault somewhere along the line!'
        'But why did they hear it way out on the rigs?' insisted the
Doctor.
        'Because, my friend, beneath this impeller shaft is a vast steel
gasometer buried in the earth. It's like an echo chamber. Drop even a
pin down there and it'll sound like a thunder-clap! Any sound down
there travels along the pipeline.'
        Robson's theory seemed logical, but unconvincing.
        'But this sound wasn't mechanical,' retorted van Lutyens.
        There was no doubt that Robson was now on the defensive.
'All right!' he thundered. 'Suppose it wasn't mechanical. Suppose
there is something in the pipeline, a fish or something. What d'you
expect me to do about it?'
        The Doctor was first to reply. 'Turn off the gas flow until
you've had a chance to check.'
        'Out of the question!'
        'But Mr Robson,' pleaded van Lutyens, 'if something is inside
the - '
        Robson was adamant. 'We do not turn off the flow. And that's
final!'
        'Down another half, sir!' The Chief Engineer was tapping the
pressure meter again.
        Robson pushed him aside to look at the meter himself. 'It must
be a mechanical fault!' he snapped. 'Get a couple of men in here, and
double-check!'
        'Yes, sir!' The Chief Engineer rushed out.
        Van Lutyens wiped the sweat from his forehead, and took an
anxious look at the pressure meter. The indicator needle was
flickering perilously close to the red danger level.
        'If you allow the pressure to build up much more in that
pipeline!' said the Dutchman, turning to Robson, 'you'll blow the
Control Rig sky-high!'
        'And all of us with it,' warned the Doctor.
        Van Lutyens stared defiantly straight into Robson's eyes. 'Just
because you're too stubborn to turn off the gas!'
        There was a delayed reaction from Robson, which seemed like
hours to the crew who were watching tensely.
        'So what d'you think it is then?' There was a restrained but acid
calm in Robson's eventual reply. 'Some more of these creature things
that hysterical girl is supposed to have seen?'
        'Who knows?' answered the Doctor. His face revealed just the
hint of a wry smile.

      In the Control Hall, Price was showing Jamie and Victoria the
lay-out of the communications system.
       'You mean, this place supplies gas to the whole of the south of
England?' asked Jamie, casting his eyes over the maze of computer
monitors on the huge Cone structure.
       'Not only England,' replied Price. 'Wales too.'
       Victoria's face was illuminated by a succession of different
coloured lights, flashing on and off all over the Cone. 'What are all
these lights for?' she asked, looking totally bewildered.
       Price nodded towards a computerised board. 'That's a plan of
the entire Refinery Compound. Each light represents a remote-
controlled camera that I can switch through to my own personal
monitor if I want to check with a particular area.'
       Jamie scratched his head, trying hard to take in all the
technical information. 'What about these rigs they keep talking
about?'
       'The rigs are out at sea,' said Price. He was now looking up at
the huge illuminated panel on top of the Cone. 'That panel up there
shows the relative position of all of them.'
       'What's the big one... there in the middle?' asked Victoria. She
was referring to a large red-coloured oblong shape in the centre of
the panel.
       'That's our main Control Complex Rig, the nerve centre of the
entire group. The other rigs feed her with the gas, and she pumps it
through to us via the main pipeline.'
       'How horrible to have to live out there in the sea all that time,'
said Victoria, bringing the conversation down to a more human level.
'And lonely.'
       'Oh, I don't know,' said Price. 'Mr Robson spent nearly four
years on one of the early rigs. He never came ashore once.'
       'Aye,' said Jamie acidly. 'That accounts for quite a lot.'
       Jamie had no sooner spoken when Robson himself came out of
the Impeller Area. Van Lutyens and the Doctor were with him.
       'Doctor! I need your help!'
       The Doctor turned, to see Harris hurrying across the Hall from
the compound entrance.
       'It's my wife. She's very ill.'
       'I'm sorry, Mr Harris,' said the Doctor awkwardly. 'You see I'm
not really a - '
       'Our own doctor is still out at Rig D. There's no one else I can
turn to.' There was desperation in Harris's voice. 'You must come.
Right away!'
       'He's going nowhere!' interrupted Robson, firmly.
       'But this is an emergency,' insisted Harris.
       'These people are in my custody until I decide what to do with
them.'
       'But my wife... ' Harris was almost pleading.
       Robson thumped his fist on the side of the Cone. 'Damn you,
Harris! I won't have you bringing your domestic problems into this
refinery.' Then he turned and shouted at the rest of his crew working
in the Hall. 'And that goes for the lot of you!'
       Harris was appalled. This time Robson had gone too far. 'Mr
Robson,' he said through clenched teeth, 'my wife is ill. If anything
happens to her, I'll... '
       Robson was completely taken aback by his second-
incommand's defiance. But he had been long enough in the business
to know that if he lost the respect of his crew, there was nothing left.
'All right, Mr Harris,' he replied, without blinking his eyes. 'One
hour!'

      'Mrs Harris?'
      'Yes?'
      'We're maintenance controllers, madam. I wonder if we could
have a few words with your husband?'
      Maggie had answered her front door to two men. One of them
was small and fat. The other was tall and thin. Both of them were
dressed in white cap, tunic, and trousers. They looked like medical
orderlies.
      Maggie rubbed her eyes and tried to focus. She was absolutely
drained of all energy. 'My husband isn't here,' she said. 'He's at the
Compound.'
      It was Mr Oak who replied. He was the small, fat one, with a
cherubic, almost circular face, which seemed to be fixed in a
perpetual smile. 'Oh dear,' he said, 'that does make it rather difficult.
We have to carry out an inspection.'
      'Inspection?'
       'Your gas cooker, madam. In the kitchen.'
       Maggie looked blank.
       Mr Oak exchanged a puzzled look with his colleague. Then he
turned back to Maggie and said, 'Your husband didn't tell you?'
       'No, he didn't,' sighed Maggie wearily. 'Look, I'm not feeling
very well. Can't it wait until another day?'
       Mr Oak shook his head, but retained his smile. 'Oh, I'm afraid
not, madam. It's got to be done without delay. Chief Robson's
instructions.'
       Maggie groaned. 'Chief Robson! That man never stops giving
out instructions. Well, I suppose you'd better come in.' She opened
the door wide, and stood back.
       'Thank you, madam,' said Mr Oak, bowing politely. 'After you,
Mr Quill.'
       The tall, thin man entered the hallway first. He was carrying a
small black leather bag. Mr Oak followed him in.
       'Allow me to introduce ourselves, madam,' said small and fat.
'My name's Mr Oak. And this is my colleague, Mr Quill.'
       Mr Quill didn't speak. In fact he never spoke. He slightly
raised his cap, and bowed politely.
       Maggie closed the front door and said impatiently, 'Could you
please be quick? I really am not very well.' She pointed to a door on
the other side of the hallway. 'That's the kitchen.'
       'Thank you madam,' said Mr Oak. 'And don't you worry about
us. You won't even know we're here. Will she, Mr Quill?'
       Maggie disappeared quickly back into her bedroom. Only then
did Mr Oak's smile finally fade. He nodded to tall and thin, and they
both went into the kitchen.
       Mr Quill went straight to the back patio door of the kitchen,
and for a moment just stared at it. His pale, gaunt, funereal features
were quite impassive.
       'The bag, Mr Quill,' said short and fat. He was already
inspecting the cooker they were supposed to be servicing.
       Mr Quill took the small black leather bag to the cooker, placed
it on a working top alongside, and opened it.
       Mr Oak reached into the bag, and took out two pairs of plain
white gloves...
       'Mr Robson, sir!' Price was calling from the Control Cone.
'Message from Control Rig!'
       Robson was on the observation platform, checking temperature
gauges. 'What do they want?' he yelled.
       'There's an excessive pressure build-up in their pipeline feed to
us!'
       Robson hurried across to the Cone, snatched the telekation
print-out message from Price. 'Ask them how much,' he ordered.
       'Mr Robson!' Van Lutyens was rushing across from the
Impeller Area. 'Pressure's almost up to danger level. Shall I give the
order to turn off the flow?'
       'You'll do nothing of the sort, Mr van Lutyens.'
       'But the pressure is almost up to capacity,' warned van
Lutyens, again mopping beads of sweat from his forehead. 'There
will be an explosion at any minute!'
       Robson flicked his eyes up from the message he was reading.
'There will not be an explosion,' he said, confidently.
       The Dutchman stared at Robson in total disbelief, and said, 'If
you don't turn off the flow, there's no way you can avoid it!'
       Robson lost his patience, turned his back on the Dutchman and
yelled out to an engineer on the observation platform. 'Open Beach
Release Valve, Section D. Full capacity!'
       The engineer paused, unsure whether he had heard right.
Robson yelled again. 'Did you hear what I said?'
       This time the engineer obeyed immediately, and started turning
a valve wheel to release gas pressure in the specified section.
       'What are you doing?' shouted van Lutyens. He was now
convinced that Robson had completely misread the situation. 'You
will never release enough gas in time!'
       Robson's only reply was to turn with a sneering look at the
Dutchman and say, 'D'you want to bet - Mr van Lutyens?'

      The curtains were drawn in the Harrises' bedroom. Maggie was
feeling much worse. Even though there was only a dim half-light in
the room, she was lying flat on her back on the bed, covering her
face with her hands, shielding her eyes from the light.
       The silence was eventually broken by a gentle tapping sound,
coming from the kitchen. The two maintenance controllers were
clearly in the middle of their work on the gas cooker.
       Maggie took her hands away from her face, and squinted. She
again had a pounding headache. After lying there for a few minutes,
she managed to summon up enough energy to pull herself up from
the bed and cross the room. She sat down at the dressing table, and
looked at her reflection in the mirror. The shock was immediate. Not
only was she looking very tired and drawn, but, in her mind's eye,
she was beginning to age prematurely.
       In the kitchen, Mr Oak and Mr Quill were carrying out their
mock inspection of the gas cooker. Not a word passed between them.
       Almost by word of command, the two men suddenly stopped
work. They could hear the approach of the thumping, heartbeat
sound. Both men looked at each other. Mr Oak smiled. It was time
for the real work to begin.
       Mr Oak stretched out his hand to the cooker, and turned on
each one of the taps. As he did so, he noticed the strands of seaweed
that were beginning to form on his hand and arm. Both he and Mr
Quill reacted to this with a triumphant glow in their eyes. Again, Mr
Oak smiled. Then he picked up a pair of white gloves, similar to
those which Mr Quill was already wearing, and put them on. Then
both men turned to look at the back patio door.
       The thumping, heartbeat sound was becoming louder, and
more intense.
       Mr Quill went to the back door, and opened it. The noise was
immediately deafening. Thumping. Pulsating. Shrieking. Hissing. On
the kitchen patio outside, the clump of seaweed had expanded into a
solid mass, engulfed in a sea of bubbling white foam.
       Mr Oak and Mr Quill left the room, and went out into the
hallway. As they did so, bubbling white foam began seeping over the
kitchen step through the open door.
       Maggie was still sitting at her dressing table, resting her head
wearily between her hands. On a sudden impulse, she determined to
pull herself together. Grabbing her comb, she started tidying her hair.
But as she looked up into the mirror, she gasped with a shocked start.
The silhouettes of two-figures were reflected there, standing behind
her. Maggie swung round.
        'What are you doing in here!' she yelled.
        Mr Oak and Mr Quill did not reply. They remained absolutely
still, just staring at Maggie.
        Maggie looked terrified. She slowly rose, her back pressed
against the mirror. 'You have no right to come into my room... ' Her
hands were gripping hard the edge of the dresssing table.
        Mr Oak and Mr Quill did not reply.
        'Did you hear what I - '
        Maggie did not finish her sentence. Her eyes suddenly flicked
straight past the two intruders, to the open doorway. A wall of
bubbling white foam and seaweed was pushing its way into the
room. Maggie was too chilled with fear to speak. All she could do
was to look on helplessly as the advance guard of the foam and weed
began to snake its way across the room in her direction.
        Mr Oak and Mr Quill took a few steps towards Maggie, then
stopped within just a few feet of her. Both their faces were fixed with
almost identical grins.
        Maggie tried to scream. But she was stopped abruptly, as Mr
Oak and Mr Quill simultaneously took a deep breath, and opened
their mouths as wide as they could. Then, in unison, they exhaled
straight at Maggie. The sound they made was eerie and terrifying. It
was the sound of hissing gas.
        Maggie was immediately overcome by the fumes. She tried
desperately to scream, but couldn't.
        The bubbling white foam and weed was drawing closer and
closer...
        Maggie was clutching her throat, coughing, spluttering. Shc
couldn't breathe.
        Mr Oak and Mr Quill were immovable, like marble statues.
The hissing sounds of gas fumes was still pouring out from their
wide-open mouths.
        Maggie was losing control, and could hold on no longer. As
she slumped to the floor, she grabbed at the dressing table, scattering
the contents all around her.
      As the wall of foam and seaweed drew closer and closer to
Maggie's lifeless body, the sound of hissing gas continued unabated
from the wide-open mouths of Mr Oak and Mr Quill...

      Somewhere along a lonely stretch of beach, the hissing sound
of gas continued. This time however, it was being released from the
valve on top of the giant pipeline tube.
      The hissing sound suddenly stopped. The valve was closed.
                            5
                   Waiting in the Dark
        'It's down!' The Chief Engineer raised his fist triumphantly,
after checking the pressure gauge on the wall of the Impeller Area.
The needle was wavering to and fro frantically. 'The pressure in the
pipeline - it's back to normal!'
        A great cheer went up from the group of engineers who were
watching anxiously.
        'Congratulations, Mr Robson,' said van Lutyens with relief. 'I
would not have thought you could have done it.'
        Robson was glowing with self-confidence after the success of
his decision to open the valve and release gas from the beach section
of the pipeline. 'If you have too much gas in the tube, get rid of it!' he
scowled bombastically. 'Didn't they ever teach you that in Training
School back at the Hague, Mr van Lutyens?'
        The Dutchman refused to answer. He had become immune to
Robson's petty insults. Robson grinned, then turned to one of the
engineers. 'Inform Baxter at Control Rig that the immediate crisis is
over. And contact the other rig chiefs.'
        The engineer rushed off to pass on the messages. Robson and
van Lutyens followed him out to the Control Hall, stopping at the
observation platform to check various pressure gauges.
        'What about the feed-out to the receiving stations?' asked the
Dutchman. 'It's still dropping.' Robson ignored him and started
tapping one of the gauges. The Dutchman persisted. 'The impeller is
still slowing down...'
        Robson suddenly lost his cool again. 'What's the matter with
you, van Lutyens?' he growled. 'You've been trying to teach me my
job ever since you came here. I've been drilling for gas out there in
the North Sea most of my life. I don't need people like you, or Harris,
to teach me how to do it!'
      'Mr Robson!' Price was calling urgently from the Control
Cone. There was a touch of hysteria in Price's voice. 'It's Rig C, sir.
We can't raise them!'
      Robson hurried across to the Cone, followed by van Lutyens.
      'What d'you mean you can't raise them?' snapped Robson, as
he looked at the video monitor screen used for contact with Rig C. It
was streaked with distorted, quivering lines.
      'We've tried everything, sir. There's no response at all!'
      Robson ignored Price and started punching out video and
computer keys. The monitor screen remained defiantly blank.
      'So the immediate crisis is over, is it?' said the Dutchman to
Robson ironically. He was also watching the blank monitor screen.

       Frank Harris arrived home to find the front door of his
apartment block wide open. 'Maggie!' he called out anxiously. 'I've
brought the Doctor!'
       The Doctor, Jamie, and Victoria followed Harris into the
hallway. The moment they entered, Jamie became convulsed with a
loud fit of sneezing.
       'Gas!' yelled the Doctor. He and the others quickly covered
their mouths.
       Harris rushed into the bedroom and immediately shouted back
to the Doctor to follow him. The Doctor, Jamie, and Victoria charged
into the bedroom, and were nearly choked by the smell of gas fumes.
       'Maggie!' Harris went straight to his wife, who was slumped in
a heap on the floor. Everyone was coughing and spluttering.
       'Quick, Jamie!' the Doctor shouted. 'The window!'
       Jamie desperately searched around for something to break
open the window. His eyes lighted on a heavy wooden chair, and, in
a split-second decision, he smashed the window open with it,
splintering glass everywhere.
       The deadly gas fumes were instantly sucked out of the room,
to be replaced by a stream of ice-cold air from outside. The Doctor,
Jamie, and Victoria stayed by the broken window, taking deep
breaths of fresh air.
       Frank Harris, distraught and desperate, was kneeling beside the
lifeless body of his wife. Maggie's eyes were firmly closed, and her
face was as white as sea foam. 'Maggie... ' called Harris, gently
caressing her face with his hand. 'Oh, Maggie... '

         In the Control Hall at the Refinery, the video monitor screen
was still flickering with distorted lines.
         'I'm sorry, sir,' said Price nervously. 'We've completely lost
contact with Rig C.'
         Robson clenched his fist and punched it into his other hand in
frustration. Then he turned away from the Cone, deep in thought.
Van Lutyens pursued him.
         'I hope you are satisfied with what you've done?' The
Dutchman's booming voice echoed around the Hall, causing
everyone to stop what they were doing.
         Robson turned slowly. With seething rage he was glaring at the
Dutchman. 'Van Lutyens,' he sneered. 'I'm warning you...'
         'And I warned you!' roared van Lutyens defiantly. 'But you
were too stubborn to listen. Look at the facts, man, the facts!'
         Robson strode off. Again the Dutchman pursued him. 'First we
lose contact with two rigs,' continued van Lutyens. 'Then, for over
three weeks we have unprecedented and inexplicable pressure
variations in the entire pipeline system.'
         'Oh, so that's it!' yelled Robson, stopping dead on the steps of
the observation platform. 'You've been talking with Harris!'
         'Only because you refuse to listen to his calculations!' The
Dutchman was matching Robson's outburst with his own anger.
'That's why I went out to the Control Rig - to see if there was any
explanation out there!'
         'And what did you find?' Robson snapped back. His exchange
with van Lutyens had now become a shouting match. 'Nothing! And
I'll tell you why - because there was nothing to find!'
         'I tell you Mr Harris's figures are - '
         'To hell with Harris and his figures!' Robson's face was now
blood-red with fury, and a vein protruded from his forehead. 'D'you
think I'm going to take notice of some schoolkid, with his bits of
paper, graphs and sliderule? I've spent my life on this job. I know
every nut and bolt on every rig out in that sea!'
       Van Lutyens sighed despondently. He had long been aware of
Robson's antipathy towards Harris's red-brick university education.
'All right,' said the Dutchman, 'so your prejudice prevents you from
accepting Mr Harris's calculations. But what about me? Do you
dismiss my opinion with as much contempt?'
       'You?' Robson's glare turned into a cynical smile. 'You, Mr van
Lutyens, are here to offer your expert advice. However, I am not
obliged to take it. This is my outfit, and I run it the way I want to.
Understood?'
       'Mr Robson!' Robson swung with a start, to see an engineer
calling from the door of the Impeller Area.
       'The impeller! She's down to 140 revs. Something must be
jamming her at the base.'
       Robson rushed into the impeller area. Van Lutyens followed
him. The Chief Engineer was frantically tapping pressure gauges,
stopping only to listen to the impeller Housing Unit. His crew were
anxiously staring down into the darkness of the impeller shaft, where
the sound of the giant pump was gradually slowing down.
       Everyone was watching and waiting tensely. The giant pump
was moving erratically now, crunching and grating with enormous
effort. Finally, it ground to a halt with a huge thud.
       The silence that followed seemed unnatural. No one could
remember a time when the sound of the giant impeller pump had not
dominated the life of the Refinery.
       'All right, Mr Robson,' called van Lutyens, breaking the
silence. 'Where do we go from here?'
       Robson was staring in disbelief at the giant pump. He refused
to reply or even look at the Dutchman.
       Van Lutyens persisted. 'Well, come on! You have all the
answers, don't you?'
       'Quiet! Everyone!'
       The Chief Engineer had his ear pressed up against the perspex
case of the Impeller Housing Unit. Robson and the others joined him.
       'What is it?' asked the Dutchman in a hushed voice.
       The Chief Engineer closed his eyes whilst he tried to listen.
Without turning, he said, 'I think I can hear something...
        Frank Harris's face was ashen-white with distress as he held
the lifeless body of his wife in his arms.
        Victoria and Jamie were anxiously watching the Doctor
examine Maggie with his stethoscope. Victoria swallowed hard, then
plucked up courage to ask timidly, 'Is she - dead?'
        The Doctor removed his stethoscope. 'No, she's not,' he
replied.
        Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, especially Harris. 'Then
what's the matter with her?' he asked.
        'She's in some sort of coma,' said the Doctor sternly. 'Possibly
because of that gas.' He removed the stethoscope from his ears, then
looked Harris straight in the face. 'It was toxic.'
        Harris was shocked. 'That's impossible,' he said. 'Natural gas
isn't toxic.'
        "This wasn't natural gas. It's the same sort of gas we found
when Victoria was locked in the Oxygen Room.'
        Harris was even more puzzled. 'But where could it have come
from?'
        'That's what I'd like to know,' muttered the Doctor, taking a
quick, suspicious look around the room. Then he resumed his
examination of Maggie, pulling open one of her eyelids to see if
there was any sign of movement in the life-less, staring pupil. 'What
exactly did she say happened to her?' he asked.
        'Something about being stung by a clump of seaweed.'
        To anyone else, Harris's reply would have sounded absurd,
bizarre. But not to the Doctor, Jamie, or Victoria, who all reacted
with a simultaneous look at Harris.
        'Seaweed!' said Jamie, turning suddenly from the smashed
window.
        'I asked Maggie to get a file from my study. Apparently she
found the seaweed on top of it.'
        'A curious place to find such a thing,' remarked the Doctor
carefully. 'Did you put the seaweed there, Mr Harris?'
        Harris took exception to this. 'No! Certainly not!'
        The Doctor did not pursue the point. He decided instead to
resume his examination of Maggie. 'There don't appear to be any
marks or abrasions.'
       'Doctor!'
       Everyone turned to look at Victoria, who was cowering from
something on the floor nearby. It was a small clump of seaweed.
       'Seaweed!' said Jamie, stooping down to take a close look at
the clump. 'What's it doing here?'
       Harris gently lowered his wife back onto the bed, then joined
the others, who were all cautiously watching the seaweed clump.
       'It's still quite wet,' observed the Doctor, studying the clump
from all angles.
       'Perhaps this is what Maggie was talking about,' said Harris,
stooping down to pick up the intruder.
       'No! Don't touch it!' yelled the Doctor, grabbing Harris by the
shoulder and yanking him back.
       'Why?' said the astonished Harris.
       'Your wife said she was stung by a clump of seaweed,
remember?'
       Harris swung a look of incredulity at the clump.
       'Furthermore,' continued the Doctor. 'I have a feeling that
whoever put that seaweed on top of your file meant you to touch it.'
       'Me?' Harris brushed his usual lock of hair from his eye. 'Wait
a minute,' he said, suddenly remembering something. 'I was sure I
put that file in my briefcase this morning, but it wasn't there when I
went to get it. I was on my way home to collect the file, but I met
Maggie and... ' He stopped, turned to look at the clump. 'But why?
Why should anyone want me to get stung by a piece of seaweed?'
       'I hate the stuff. It's so, slimy and horrid.' Victoria stood well
back from the clump. She was still chilled by the memory of her
encounter with the Seaweed Creature.
       'Och,' said Jamie, teasing Victoria, 'you've seen plenty of
seaweed before. The beach near the pipeline was crawling with the
stuff this morning.'
       'Yes,' replied Victoria, her gaze transfixed on the wet, slimy
clump on the floor. 'And that moved too. Just like this one.'
       Jamie's eyes widened with horror. 'Moved?'
       Everyone was now staring at Victoria.
       No-one was standing around idly in the Impeller Area. The
place was buzzing with activity, with engineers rushing in and out,
checking and adjusting every control valve in sight.
       'I want them all checked!' The Chief Engineer was yelling out
orders to all the men around him. 'Every remote-controlled release
valve on the line. Check and double-check the circuits!' Crewmen
bustled to their individual jobs, one of them colliding with van
Lutyens as he hurried into the area.
       'Chief!' called the Dutchman, who was carrying a rolled-up
technical diagram under his arfn. 'This impeller is still not working?'
       'Not yet, sir!'
       'What about the noise you heard in the pipeline? Have you
heard it again?'
       'No, I haven't sir,' replied the Chief, then added
unconvincingly, 'Mr Robson was probably right. It's just a
mechanical fault somewhere.'
       The Dutchman cringed. He just refused to believe that
someone as skilled as the Chief Engineer would accept such a basic
theory. 'And you believe that?' he said.
       The Chief Engineer avoided van Lutyen's glance, then
answered awkwardly, 'It's not really my job to question someone in
authority, sir.'
       Van Lutyens sighed despondently. 'Chief, could you come
outside for a moment? I'd like a word with you in private.'
       The Chief hesitated, nodded, then followed van Lutyens out
into the Control Hall.
       'I've been studying the layout of the installation,' said the
Dutchman quietly, 'and in particular, the impeller intake. I think I
know where the blockage may be.' He found the nearest available
table, and spread out the technical diagram he was carrying. It
showed the complete layout of the impeller intake system. 'Look
here,' he continued, indicating a specific set of valves on the diagram.
'This valve at the base of the main shaft: it leads directly into the
intake. Is that correct?'
       The Chief Engineer studied the diagram briefly, then nodded.
'Yes, sir.'
       'Now as far as I can see, there's no other point between that
valve and the Control Rig which could cause a blockage sufficient to
stop the impeller.'
       'Apart from the undersea emergency valves, sir.'
       Van Lutyens took a quick look at the Chief. 'But you have
remote-control observation of those, and they're free - yes?'
       'Yes.'
       Van Lutyens took a red pen from out of his pocket. 'Then the
main impeller valve is obviously the fault?' On the diagram he drew
a red circle around the offending valve.
       'It's possible, sir,' replied the Chief without committing
himself.
       'Possible!' Van Lutyens was losing his patience with the Chief.
'Look, man, it's the only answer. What we've got to do is get down
there and clear that valve.'
       The Chief Engineer hesitated. 'I'd have to check with Mr
Robson to do that, sir.'
       'Robson! Robson!' exploded the Dutchman, quickly rolling up
the diagram again. 'What are you all, children or something that you
can't do anything on your own initiative?'
       'I'm sorry, sir. I can't send men down that shaft without Mr
Robson's approval.' The Chief turned his back on the Dutchman, and
hurried off towards the impeller area. Van Lutyens followed him.
       'And can you not also blow your own nose without approval?'
yelled the Dutchman.
       The Chief Engineer replied from the door of the impeller area,
but he did not raise his voice. 'Now, listen to me, Mr van Lutyens.
I've worked with Mr Robson a long time. We were out on the rigs
together in the early days. Now, you may think he's wrong to run the
place the way he does - that's your privilege. But I trust him. I take
orders from him simply because I respect his judgement, and for no
other reason.'
       Van Lutyens had to respect the Chief Engineer for the honest
way he had spoken, and felt slightly ashamed of his own outburst.
After the Chief had returned to the impeller area, van Lutyens
hesitated for a moment, then followed him.
        'All right Chief,' said the Dutchman, in a calm, more
compromising approach. 'At least go to Robson and tell him where
we think the blockage is. Get his official permission to inspect the
base of shaft.'
        The Chief was quick to reply. 'With respect, sir, that's your
theory, not mine.'
        'But it's the only possibility!' Van Lutyens suddenly realised
that without the sound of the giant impeller, his voice could be heard
by everyone around him. He quickly drew closer to the Chief, and
spoke quietly. 'Look. Those voices you heard. They couldn't have
come from anywhere but the base of the shaft.'
        The Chief was finding it hard to come up with a rational
explanation. 'If the main valve was open, they could have been
echoes from any one of the rigs.'
        'Yes, if it is open,' said the Dutchman fervently. He was
practically whispering straight into the Chief's ear. 'But you don't
know, and you won't know until you check!'
        There was a pause. For once, the Chief had no answer. He
turned around to see all his crewmen looking at him, as though
waiting for him to make some kind of positive decision. 'Well,' he
finally spoke, rubbing his chin anxiously, 'I suppose I could put it to
Mr Robson...
        Van Lutyens sighed with relief and hope.
        'But I'm warning you, he's not going to take kindly to...'
        'Listen!' Van Lutyen's voice silenced the Chief immediately.
Everyone stopped what they were doing.
        They could hear a sound. It was only a faint, distant sound. But
it was certainly there, gradually gaining in volume. Thumping. Like a
heartbeat.
        Everyone automatically looked up at the pipeline tube. The
thumping sound was echoing inside, as though something was
trapped there, trying to get out.
        Van Lutyens and the Chief Engineer went straight to the edge
of the impeller shaft, and looked down. The sound they could hear
was clear, sharp, and threatening. 'Don't tell me that's a mechanical
fault!' said the Dutchman in a tense, strangulated whisper.
        'Chief!' Robson's voice boomed out from the open doorway.
'What the hell's going on here?'
        The Chief turned with a start. "That noise in the impeller, sir.
It's started again. I think we should go down and check the main
valve.'
        'Oh, you do, do you?' Robson walked slowly towards the
Chief, then stopped just in front of him. 'Why?'
        'That's where we think the blockage is, sir.'
        Although Robson was glaring at the Chief, it was really
directed at the Dutchman. 'We?'
        Van Lutyens stepped forward defiantly. 'Robson, there's
something alive down there in that pipeline!'
        'Alive?' Robson pushed the two Men aside, looked down the
impeller shaft, and listened.
        There was absolute silence. No thumping. No heartbeat.
        Robson turned to the Dutchman, and looked at him as though
he was mad. 'You're out of your mind. There's nothing down there!'
        The Chief quickly interceded. 'I promise you, sir, I did hear
something... '
        Robson ignored the Chief, and directed his fury towards the
Dutchman. 'Van Lutyens, I'm warning you! You're stirring up my
men, and they're behaving like a bunch of hysterical schoolgirls!
Now get out of here!'
        'Listen!' Van Lutyens was staring up at the pipeline tube.
        'There it is again!' said the Chief, almost too afraid to hear the
sound of his own voice.
        Robson was ready to explode with anger at both men. 'Did you
hear what I - '
        'Shut up!' yelled the Dutchman, swinging around suddenly on
Robson. 'Now, listen!'
        Everyone gathered around the edge of the impeller shaft. As
they listened, the thumping sound returned. Soon the pipeline tube
was reverberating with the alien sound. Thumping. Pulsating.
Bubbling. Closer and closer. Louder and louder.
        There was shock and fear on the faces of everyone who was
peering down the huge shaft.
       It's down there,' said the Dutchman, his voice barely a whisper.
'In that pipeline... in the darkness... waiting...'
       The massive heartbeat was pumping furiously.
                              6
                        The Specimen
        'No, Jamie! Don't touch it!' The Doctor was determined not to
take any chances with the clump of seaweed, which was still nestling
on the floor of Harris's bedroom.
        'Och, why not?' said Jamie, his hand poised above the clump.
'It's only an odd bit of seaweed.'
        'Maybe so. But if it did move, like Victoria said...'
        Jamie withdrew his hand, and straightened up. 'How can a bit
of seaweed move? It's not a living thing - is it?'
        The Doctor twitched his eyebrows. 'Everything in the sea is
living, Jamie.'
        'I'm quite sure it moved,' insisted Victoria. After all she had
been through with the seaweed creature, she was keeping well clear
of the alien clump. 'It gave me a terrible fright. It was like a giant
spider.'
        'Well, we'd better not take any chances,' said the Doctor.
Whilst he was talking, he took out of his inside jacket pocket a small
polythene hag. 'Here, Jamie.' He shook out the bag, and gave it to
Jamie. 'Hold this for me will you, please?'
        Jamie was puzzled, but took the bag and held it open. 'What's it
for?'
        The Doctor stooped down to the seaweed clump. 'I think we'll
take a closer look at this.' From another pocket, he took out a pencil,
which he used to pick up the clump. 'Hold the bag down here, Jamie.
Mind your fingers!'
        Jamie held the rim of the bag wide open, and the Doctor
carefully dropped the clump into it. 'What are you going to do with it,
Doctor?' he asked.
        The Doctor took the bag from Jamie. 'I'm going to find out if
an ordinary piece of seaweed really can move.' He tied a knot in the
bag, then held it up to take a closer look. The seaweed specimen did
look a bit as Victoria had described it: like a huge spider curled up in
a heap.
       'Doctor.' Frank Ilarris was sitting on the bed trying to revive
Maggie, who was still lying unconscious there. He looked in abject
despair. 'My wife - will she be all right?'
       The Doctor frowned before replying. 'I think so, Mr Harris. It's
difficult to say. There's no immediate panic as far as I can see, but
you'd better get her under medical supervision.'
       'Yes,' said Harris. He got up from the bed, kissed Maggie
gently on the forehead, looked at her anxiously, then joined the
Doctor. 'I'll go back to the Medicare Centre at the Compound and
arrange for her to be taken in there.'
       The Doctor smiled reassuringly. 'Good idea.'
       Harris went to the door, stopped to take one last worried look
at his wife, then left.
       'Poor man,' said Victoria, shaking her head with a sigh. 'Aye,'
Jamie agreed, 'Hey! I thought we were supposed to be prisoners?'
       The Doctor's eyes suddenly glistened with hope. 'So did I,
Jamie!' he chuckled. 'We'd better make the most of it. We've got
work to do back at the TARDIS.'
       'What about Mrs Harris?' said Victoria.
       The Doctor hurried across to the bed to take one quick last
look at Maggie. 'She seems to be sleeping peacefully. Come on, let's
get out of here!' He thrust the plastic bag into Jamie's hands, and
rushed out. Jamie looked disgustedly at the seaweed specimen inside
the polythene bag, pulled a face at it, then followed the Doctor. Last
to leave was Victoria, who went to cover Maggie properly with the
duvet. After a last anxious look, Victoria hurried off to join the
others, quietly closing the door behind her.
       Outside, the early afternoon light was becoming thinner. The
thaw was still continuing, but there were signs of an approaching
breeze, which caused the bedroom curtains at the smashed window to
flutter restlessly.
       Maggie was breathing quite normally, her eyes firmly closed.
She seemed at peace. Suddenly, a movement: her hand slipped from
beneath the duvet cover, and dangled to and fro aimlessly.
     A frond-like weed formation was beginning to grow down
Maggie's exposed hand and arm.

       There was shock and fear on the group of faces peering down
into the darkness of the impeller shaft. The giant pump itself was still
immobile, but the thumping heartbeat sound continued to echo
throughout the aluminium pipeline tube.
       'In God's name, what is that sound?' The Chief Engineer was
gripping the safety rail around the surface of the shaft, his voice
reduced to a faltering whisper.
       Van Lutyens, like the rest of the engineers, was almost
mesmerised by the throbbing, pulsating sound coming up from the
base of the shaft. It's uncanny,' he murmured. 'Like a... a heartbeat... '
       Robson was clearly affected by the sound. Both his hands were
gripping the safety rail, and his eyes were transfixed down into the
darkness of the Shaft, as though he alone knew exactly what was
going on down there.
       And then, the unexpected happened. The thumping sound
came to a sudden, dramatic halt.
       The silence was deafening.
       The Chief Engineer was first to speak. 'It's stopped again. The
rest of the crew were looking nervously around, down to the shaft, up
to the pipeline tube.
       Van Lutyens turned immediately to Robson. 'This surely must
be proof.'
       Robson had not relaxed his grip on the safety rail. He was still
staring down into the shaft. 'Proof?' he murmured, as if in a trance.
Suddenly, he swung around to look the Dutch-man straight in the
eyes. He hesitated, then burst into scornful laughter.
       Van Lutyens watched Robson as though he was mad. He had
to raise his voice to be heard. 'Proof that there is something down
there blocking the impeller.'
       'Rubbish!' snarled Robson, waving his hand dismissively.
'Hysterical nonsense!'
       'But you heard it. That terrible sound...'
       Robson was unyielding. 'I heard a mechanical fault in the base
of the impeller!'
       Van Lutyens pointed in frustration towards the shaft. 'But the
impeller isn't working! Don't you ever believe anything until you can
see it?'
       Robson had had enough. He pushed past the Dutchman, and
made for the door, yelling to the engineers as he went, 'I want this
impeller operational in half an hour!' He stopped at the door and
turned. 'Now get to it!'
       Through the transparent door, van Lutyens could see Robson
disappearing back amongst the maze of electronic hardware in the
Control Hall. The Dutchman was now more convinced than ever that
the Refinery was being run by a lunatic.

       Back inside the TARDIS, the Doctor dropped his seaweed
specimen into a small glass tank. Attached to the side of the tank
were two miniature metal cylinders containing two transparent tubes
inserted through holes on either side of the tank.
       Jamie peered at the specimen inside the tank and scratched his
head in puzzlement. 'What are you doing, Doctor?'
       Before replying, the Doctor covered the tank with its seal-tight
lid. 'These cylinders contain a small quantity of natural gas, Jamie. It
might be interesting to see what effect it has on the weed specimen -
if any.' He turned on the cylinder release taps, and immediately the
sound of hissing gas could be heard coming from inside the tank.
       This corner of the TARDIS was beginning to look like a
medical laboratory, for the Doctor had produced all sorts of bottles of
chemical liquids and powders. There were also several large, dusty
reference books piled up on the control console.
       Victoria was at a workbench nearby, heating some liquid in a
test tube over a Bunsen flame. The bench was stacked with bottles
and odd-shaped glass containers. 'How are you getting on, Victoria?'
The Doctor came across to join her.
       'I don't know,' replied Victoria, looking puzzled into the test
tube. 'You'd better take a look.'
       The Doctor took the tube from Victoria and held it up to the
light. 'Nothing unusual. The seaweed contains the normal iron
content.'
       Victoria was still uneasy. 'Yes. But I did this other test, like
you told me, and I found something which worries me.' She reached
across to a bulb-shaped glass container, inside which was a small
particle of the seaweed specimen floating in a colourless liquid. The
sides of the container were tarnished with something which
resembled rust, only just visible through a cloud vapour.
       The Doctor looked into the container with great interest. 'I'm
not surprised, Victoria,' he said, pointing to the brown stain around
the bulb. 'Do you see the deposit? This means the weed contains
some kind of gas - probably toxic.'
       'Toxic?' Victoria exchanged a worried glance with the Doctor.
       'Hey, Doctor!' Jamie was at the Doctor's table, peering into the
microscope. 'What are these funny little bits moving about in the
weed?'
       The Doctor was still preoccupied with the contents of the glass
bulb. 'Just a minute, Jamie. Don't worry me.' But he suddenly turned
with a start. 'What did you say?' He quickly put clown the glass bulb,
and rushed across to take over the microscope from Jamie.
       'Can you see them?' said Jamie, peering over the Doctor's
shoulder.
       'Jamie! This is it!' The Doctor thumped the table jubilantly.
'There's molecular movement!'
       'There's what?'
       In great excitement, the Doctor pushed Jamie out of the way,
rushed across to the control console, and pushed a button. The lights
immediately faded into near darkness, and a flap on the wall revealed
a large projector screen. Rubbing his hands with glee, the Doctor
pressed another button. The microscope slide automatically appeared
in magnified form on the screen. It showed a substance full of dots
and squiggles, but with definite signs of molecular movement. The
Doctor stared at the screen in wonder and bewilderment. 'Incredible!
Absolutely incredible!'
       'What is it, Doctor?' said Jamie, turning his head from side to
side, trying to make some sense of the screen image. 'What does it
mean?'
       Victoria was also staring in amazement at the screen from her
bench on the other side of the room. 'It means, Jamie, that the weed
specimen is as much alive as you and me.'
       Jamie swung a look of total disbelief at Victoria. Then he
turned to the Doctor, who was nodding his head reluctantly.
       None of them were yet aware of what was going on in the
glass tank at the side of Victoria. The heartbeat sound was muffled
within the sealed container.
       The seaweed specimen was beginning to pulsate...

       'Mr Harris, it's imperative we do something about Robson
without delay. He just won't listen to reason.' Van Lutyens was in the
Control Hall corridor, where he had been waiting to intercept
Harrison his way back from the Compound.
       'I'm sorry, van Lutyens,' replied Harris, whose nerves were
now raw with anxiety, 'I've got something more important on my
mind at the moment.' He tried to move on, but the Dutchman blocked
his way.
       'More important!' protested van Lutyens. 'What is more
important than...'
       'My wife is ill! Get out of the way!' Harris practically pushed
the Dutchman aside, and rushed off into the Control Hall. Van
Lutyens stared after him, bewildered, then followed.
       'Price!'
       'Sir!'
       Harris was calling from the Compound exit door in the Control
Hall. 'Doc Patterson still not back?'
       'No, sir. We've heard nothing at all from Rig D.'
       'Right. Get on to Matron at the Medicare Unit. Tell her to send
a couple of orderlies over to my quarters with a stretcher to bring my
wife in. She's been taken ill.'
       'Right away, sir!' Price was already punching out computer
keys to make contact with the Medicare Unit.
       'Harris!' It was the unmistakeable voice of Robson, booming
out from the office area. 'What's the panic now?'
       Harris hurried across to him. 'It's my wife. She's been taken ill.
She needs medical attention.'
        Robson sighed irritably. 'What's the matter with her this time?
Another headache?'
        It took all of Harris's self-control to resist rising to Robson's
jibes. 'She's very ill, Mr Robson,' he replied calmly.
        'Oh yes?' persisted Robson with a sneer. 'And who says so? I
suppose it was that Doctor bloke you... Wait a minute, where is he?'
He flicked a quick glance around the Control Hall. 'And those two
kids?'
        Only at that moment did Harris realise what he'd done. His
answer came out as a defensive stammer. 'I... I left them in my
quarters when I... '
        Robson's eyes were blazing with anger. 'You what?' He moved
quickly towards Harris, almost as though he was going to hit him.
'They're supposed to be under guard, and you left them... in your own
married quarters?'
        'I was worried about my wife. I didn't have time to think
about...'
        'Those three prisoners were in your charge!'
        'I don't care!' snapped Harris. 'Don't you understand? My wife
was lying there on the floor when I got there. She was unconscious,
and the place was stifled by the smell of toxic gas.' He brushed the
lock of hair from his eye, then with every muscle in his face taut with
tension, said, 'She's been poisoned, Robson! My wife's been
poisoned!'
        Van Lutyens was listening to Harris's outburst with rivetted
interest. 'Mr Harris, you said your quarters were filled with toxic gas
fumes?'
        'Yes.'
        'Where did they come from?'
        'I have no idea.'
        'No,' snapped Robson. 'And we shall none of us know now
you've let those three go loose.' He turned his back on Harris and
strode off. Harris followed him and said, 'How could they possibly
have had anything to do with it?'
        'It still doesn't alter the fact that you disobeyed my orders!'
Robson stopped dead, and swung round on Harris again. 'You
released those three prisoners without my authority.'
        Harris was at the point of despair. 'Prisoners? A harmless old
man and a couple of teenagers?'
        Robson took a deep breath, and crossed his arms obstinately.
'That harmless old man, you're so fond of, is probably a saboteur!
How d'you know he's not the one who's been tampering with that
valve on the shoreline? Can't you get it into that thick head of yours
that this Doctor bloke is responsible for producing those variations in
pressure that you were getting so excited about!'
        'Don't be so ridiculous, Robson!' Harris was now yelling at the
Controller. 'You're clutching at straws, stupidly blind to the real
facts!'
        'Don't you shout at me, boy!' Robson yelled back.
        A full-scale row was only averted by the Chief Engineer, who
was calling from the open window of the impeller area. 'Mr Robson!
The impeller!'
        As he spoke, a slow grinding sound was heard. Everyone
turned automatically to look towards the giant impeller.
        'It's moving again!' called the Chief, triumphantly.
        Robson threw a smug, cynical grin at Harris, then rushed into
the impeller area. The others followed him.
        Once again the impeller area was buzzing with activity. The
Chief Engineer was labouring at the controls of the giant impeller,
which was thumping up and down again, but with some difficulty. 'It
just started up again, quite suddenly,' said the Chief, whose face was
moist with sweat.
        'All right, man, keep it moving!' snapped Robson, tensely
watching the impeller's struggle to burst into action. But its
movement was erratic, and there were already signs that it could not
possibly sustain its recovery. Robson yelled again. 'Don't let it go
now!'
        Quite suddenly, the giant impeller once again came to a
dramatic halt.
        Robson was beside himself with rage. He stared in total
disbelief at the impeller, refusing to accept that it would not budge.
'You fools!' he yelled to everyone in sight. 'You stupid fools!'
        Everyone was amazed by Robson's wild outburst. He was
glaring from one to the other of them as though they had all
contrived to sabotage the impeller.
        The Chief Engineer came to his men's defence. 'There was
nothing we could do. It's jammed at the base.'
        Robson could not be placated. He immediately turned on van
Lutyens and Harris. 'You wanted this, didn't you?' He was ranting
like a madman. 'It's just what you wanted!'
        Van Lutyens retorted, 'You should have listened to me,
Robson. You should have...'
        'I should have what? Turned off the flow? Spoiled a reputation
of thirty years!'
        'Reputation!' Van Lutyens could hardly believe the illogic of
Robson's mind. 'Don't you realise that what's going on here is
something totally outside your comprehension? That whatever it is
that's in the pipeline, that's blocking the pump, that's taken over your
rigs, is a threat, a menace to us all?'
        Robson blinked his eyes at the Dutchman, but it was more of a
twitch. 'Menace? Threat?' He burst into cynical laughter, even though
it was quite obvious he was disturbed by what had happened, and
was refusing to admit it. 'The only menace round here is you, van
Lutyens. You and your friend Mr Harris there.'
        The Dutchman and Harris exchanged a look of deep concern
as Robson then rounded on the engineers. 'Well? What are you lot
staring at?' he growled. 'I want this impeller in working order. Now
get to it!' Finally, he turned back to Harris. 'I want to know
immediately this impeller is in working order again. Understood - Mr
Harris?' He hesitated for a moment, clutching his forehead as though
he had a headache. Everyone was watching him, convinced that the
Controller was beginning to break up under the strain of
circumstances which he neither accepted or understood. With a final
defiant glare at Harris and van Lutyens, Robson rushed back to the
Control Hall.
        Harris and van Lutyens exchanged a look of deep
consternation. 'He's cracking up,' said the Dutchman. 'I think you'll
have to take over soon.'
       Harris shook his head. 'No, I've got to get back to my wife.' He
turned to go, but van Lutyens caught him by the arm. 'Harris, you
can't leave now,' the Dutchman pleaded. 'Can't you see Robson is
losing control?'
       Harris rubbed his eyes, which were sore with tension. 'My wife
needs help... '
       'Your wife will be brought back here to the Medicare Unit.
She'll be kept under close supervision.'
       'Damnit, van Lutyens!' snapped Harris. 'I have a duty towards
my wife...'
       'You also have a duty towards this refinery.' There was a note
of desperation in the Dutchman's voice. 'Listen, Harris. If Robson
does crack up, as I think he's going to, then you are the only one with
the authority to take over. We need you here.'
       Harris was totally confused. He hesitated for a moment, then
turned to the Chief Engineer, who had abandoned his struggle to re-
activate the impeller pump. 'What do you think, Chief? You know
Mr Robson better than any of us. How... I mean, d'you think he's
fully aware of the situation?'
       The Chief lowered his eyes uneasily. He had always tried his
best to show loyalty towards the Controller, often under extreme
provocation. 'Well, sir... Mr Robson's under a great deal of strain...'
       'Exactly!' emphasised the Dutchman, thumping a fist into the
palm of his other hand. 'Anyone can see that he's cracking up.'
       'With respect, sir, you're not making it any easier for him.'
There was more than a hint of criticism in the Chief's reply.
       Van Lutyens resented this. 'That's not what I'm here for. I
come to give professional advice - Mr Robson ignores it! He knows
rigs, yes. He knows much about engineering, but not all. And it is
obvious he knows nothing about the state of mind of those men out
there on the rigs!'
       The Chief replied without looking up. 'Mr Robson was out
there a long time, sir.'
       Van Lutyens sighed with frustration. He felt he was getting
nowhere with either Harris or the Chief Engineer. 'Yes, it is true.
Robson has great experience - of normal conditions. But these are
not normal conditions. Something very strange is happening, but
Robson refuses to accept the new factor, the unexplained factor.'
       'So what do you think he should do?' asked Harris.
       'I know exactly what I would do.' Van Lutyens hesitated
briefly, then spoke directly. 'I would close the Compound and
evacuate the rigs!'
       The Chief exchanged a quick anxious glance with Harris. 'He'd
never do it!'
       'Can't you see, Chief?' argued the Dutchman. 'It's the only safe,
logical thing to do until all this business is sorted out.' The Chief
looked unconvinced. Van Lutyens continued: 'Look, we've lost
contact with two of those rigs out at sea. We've got a major blockage
in the main pipeline, a jammed impeller... we don't know what is
causing all this trouble!'
       Harris interrupted. 'But we regained contact with Baxter on
Rig D. He said everything was under control.'
       Exasperated, the Dutchman replied, 'And we haven't heard
from him since! And what about Rig C? We've lost contact with
them also.'
       The Chief was beginning to run out of answers. 'It's probably a
telecommunications fault somewhere,' he spluttered.
       Van Lutyens pursued his point firmly. 'All right, so maybe it
is. But my point is that we must at least check! Just as we must check
the impeller valve at the base of the shaft. But Robson will do
nothing! Nothing!'
       Harris and the Chief Engineer looked at each other, clearly
swayed by the Dutchman's argument.
       'I suppose Robson might listen if we all put it to him,'
suggested Harris. 'What do you think, Chief?'
       'There's some sense in what Mr van Lutyens says, sir,' said the
Chief, massaging the tense muscle in the back of his neck. 'We
should check.'
       The Dutchman sighed with relief. At last there was a glimmer
of hope.

      In the TARDIS, the Doctor, Victoria, and Jamie were looking
at a sketched drawing of a Weed Creature which the Doctor had
turned up on the page of a very large, old and dusty reference book.
The drawing was identical to the Weed Creature Victoria had seen in
the Oxygen Room at the Refinery: enormous bubbled tentacles
emerging from a large mass of sea foam.
       'That's it, Doctor!' explained Victoria, pointing nervously at the
drawing. 'That's the same creature I saw!'
       The Doctor looked subdued and concerned. 'Yes. I was afraid
it might be.'
       'But how did the picture get in this book?'
       The Doctor was studying the drawing through a large
magnifying glass. 'The book is a list of legends and superstitions.
This particular drawing is based on legends supplied by ancient
mariners in the North Sea, probably around the middle of the
eighteenth century.'
       Jamie was dumbfounded. 'You mean this drawing is the same
as the creature Victoria saw in the Compound?'
       The Doctor looked up at Jamie through the magnifying glass.
It was a grotesque sight. 'I'm afraid so, Jamie.'
       'And what about the clumps of weed?'
       The Doctor put down the magnifying glass. 'I don't know. But
there's obviously some connection between the weed and the
creatures themselves...'
       While the Doctor was speaking, Jamie's face suddenly started
to curl. He was building up to a sneeze. 'Aah... aah...'
       Victoria looked anxiously first at the Doctor, then at Jamie.
'Jamie... Jamie, you're going to... to...'
       'Choo!' Jamie's sneeze was deafening, and this was just the
start. But before he could sneeze again, the Doctor suddenly yelled
out frantically.
       'Victoria! Look out!'
       Victoria turned with a shocked start, to stare in horror at the
seaweed specimen in the glass tank just behind her. It had grown to
over double its size, its tentacles hanging menacingly over the edge
of the tank, covered in white foam. And the thumping sound it made
was like a human heart-beat.
       Victoria screamed out loud just as the Doctor pulled her out of
the way.
       To everyone's amazement, the heartbeat sound stopped
abruptly, the seaweed vibrated, and immediately retreated back into
the tank.
       'Jamie!' shouted the Doctor. 'Put the top on!' He quickly helped
Jamie to replace the cover which had been forced open on top of the
glass tank. 'Turn off the gas - quick!'
       Jamie turned off the cylinder taps, and the sound of hissing gas
stopped immediately. But the TARDIS was filled with an unpleasant
smell, which caused everyone to cough and splutter.
       'I was right!' said the Doctor, covering his mouth and studying
the seaweed specimen now lying dormant at the bottom of the glass
tank. 'The seaweed formations are feeding off the natural gas beneath
the North Sea. But the gas they're expelling is toxic.' He looked
closer at the specimen. 'And why did this stuff suddenly retreat back
into the tank? Hmm, I wonder... ' He straightened up, and made for
the door. 'Come on! We have to move fast!'
       'Where are we going?' asked Victoria, edging her way
cautiously past the tank.
       The Doctor had already opened the door and disappeared
outside. But his voice could be heard calling, 'I want to take another
look at Harris's place!'
       The seaweed specimen remained quite still in its glass cage.
After the Doctor, Jamie, and Victoria had gone, it began to throb
with life again.
                           7
                The Figure on the Beach
        The Dutchman was clearly right about one thing. Robson was
beginning to crack up.
        'No, I will not listen!' yelled the Controller maniacally from the
observation platform in the Control Hall. Everyone was watching
him in astonishment: van Lutyens, Harris, Price, the Chief Engineer,
the communications crew. 'It's you, van Lutyens, isn't it? Isn't it!'
Robson leaned over the rail to the Dutchman, his face contorted with
anger. 'You've been trying to undermine my authority ever since you
came here! You and Harris. You've been stirring up trouble round
here just to get at me, haven't you? Now you've got the Chief on your
side... ' He suddenly turned his bitter outburst onto the Chief
Engineer. 'One of my oldest and trusted... I thought at least I could
trust you!'
        The Chief looked crushed. 'Mr Robson, all we want you to do
is to...'
        'I know what you want me to do - all of you! Every part of
Robson's body seemed to be trembling, and his eyes seemed twice
their size. 'You want to see me give up, don't you?' He laughed
scornfully. 'Well, you'll never get that pleasure because... because...'
He stopped to look around at all the anxious faces watching him. 'All
of you... all against me! Very well, if that's the way you want it, go
right ahead! Go and join Mr van Lutyens and his gang of academic
friends!' He scrambled down from the platform to look van Lutyens
straight in the face. 'Go on, join him! But just remember - I'm still in
charge of this... I'm still...' He stopped, squinted his eyes, and rubbed
his forehead. But he quickly recovered and lashed out at the crew
again. 'Get back to work! Get... What the hell are you all staring...'
He stopped again, then turned suddenly, and practically ran to the
Compound entrance door.
        For a brief moment after Robson's exit, everyone remained in
stunned silence. Finally, van Lutyens spoke to Harris.
       'Well?' said the Dutchman solemnly, 'You still think he's
capable of running this place?'
       Harris seemed in a state of shock. All he could do was to
exchange a bewildered glance with the Chief, and shrug his
shoulders indecisively. This irritated van Lutyens. There was nothing
he despised more than someone who was unwilling to accept
responsibility. 'All right!' he snapped. 'You can do what you like, but
I'm getting in touch with my people in the Hague.'
       'But what can they do?' asked Harris.
       'I don't know. But at least they can push your people in London
into some kind of action! That man, that fool - he is no longer sane!'
       The Dutchman left Harris and the Chief deep in thought,
unsure what to do. Then he hurried across to Price at the Control
Cone and barked, 'Get me a direct line to Mr van der Post at Hague
Central!'

      Robson returned to his cabin and slammed the door behind
him. He was thoroughly exhausted, drained of all energy. For a
moment, he stood with his back leaning against the door, looking
around his cabin. It was nothing more than a small, stark room, more
like a ship's cabin than the living quarters of an Administrative
Controller. But there was one human touch in the room. It was a
small framed photograph on a cabinet beside Robson's bunk bed.
      Robson pulled open his collar, wiped the sweat from his
forehead, and crossed the room to take a look at the photograph. It
was of an attractive young woman, Angie, Robson's wife, who had
been killed in a car crash twenty-two years ago. Robson picked up
the photograph and stared at it painfully. It was a time of his life that
he would never forget, for, at the time of the accident, he himself had
been driving the car in which Angie was the passenger.
      Robson replaced the photograph, sighed deeply, then went and
slumped down on his bunk, to stare aimlessly up at the ceiling.
      In the corridor outside, someone was cautiously approaching
the door of Robson's cabin. He was a sinister figure, small and fat,
dressed in white cap, tunic, and trousers. It was Mr Oak, one of the
two maintenance controllers. He moved silently, delicately, like a
prowling cat in slow motion.
        In his cabin, Robson's eyelids closed. He was finally
succumbing to sleep.
        Mr Oak had his ear pressed up against Robson's door. He
could hear nothing, but knew what was going on. He smiled gently,
and waited.
        Robson sat up with a start, thinking he had heard a movement
at the door. 'Who's there?' he yelled irritably. 'I'm not to be disturbed!
Go away!'
        With a broad grin on his face, Mr Oak reached down and
turned the key in the door lock. Then he moved on to the
EMERGENCY VENT Control Unit on the wall, and operated the
switch to OPEN.
        Robson was lying on his back again, eyes closed. For a
moment or so he seemed to be relaxed, and falling into a deep sleep.
Suddenly, his eyes sprang open, and were staring at the ceiling. He
could hear a slight hum coming from somewhere in the room. The
sound stopped abruptly, to be replaced by other, more menacing
sounds. The hissing of gas, the thumping, pulsating rhythms of a
heartbeat. Robson's face was running with sweat, his eyes couldn't
focus properly. He began to cough and splutter as the gas started to
affect him. He tried to sit up, but was too weak, and slumped back
onto the bunk again. All he could do now was lie there helplessly,
struggling for breath, listening to the overpowering sound of the
heartbeat. Gradually his eyes began to focus, then opened wide in
horror, transfixed towards the ceiling.
        The ventilation grille above Robson was wide open, and the
first few blobs of white foam were beginning to appear.
        Robson was struggling to move, but his entire body felt like
marble, as though he were paralysed.
        Soon, the blobs of white foam became a deluge, bursting open
the grille with a loud crash.
        Robson tried to shout out, but it was taking all his effort to
even open his lips. Blobs of white foam were cascading down onto
him.
        The sound in the room was now deafening. Thumping.
Pulsating. Bubbling. The heartbeat! Gradually, through the mass of
white foam there emerged the long, curling tendrils of the Weed
Creature, stretching down closer and closer towards Robson's face...
       In the corridor outside, Harris was about to knock on the door
of Robson's cabin. But he stopped dead as he heard Robson's
piercing scream echoing out from inside the room.
       'Mr Robson!' shouted Harris, banging on the door. 'Mr Robson,
what is it? What's going on?'
       'Help me!' Robson was calling frantically, banging on the other
side of the door. 'Let me out of here!' He screamed again.
       Harris desperately tried to open the door. It was locked. But
the key was still in the lock, so he quickly turned it. No sooner had
he done so than Robson pulled open the door. There were small
blobs of white foam clinging to his clothes, and he was trembling
with fear as he clutched his face. 'My face!' he spluttered. 'It touched
my face!'
       Harris was horrified. 'Mr Robson...' But Robson pushed him
out of the way and rushed down the corridor in panic shouting, 'It
touched my face!'
       Harris called after him. 'Mr Robson! Wait! I need your
permission to send two men down the impeller shaft...' He was
wasting his time. Robson had disappeared through the door leading
to the outer Compound area.
       Harris, totally shocked and bewildered, brushed the lock of
hair from his eye. Then he turned to look at the door of Robson's
cabin, and cautiously went inside.
       The sight that was awaiting Harris in Robson's cabin, was one
which he would remember for the rest of his life. The moment he
entered the room, he was coughing and spluttering from the deadly
gas fumes which had almost overpowered Robson. There were blobs
of bubbling white foam everywhere, and dangling down from the
remains of the ventilator grille were the long, curling tendrils of the
Weed Creature, its massive heartbeat pounding with frenzied,
deafening life...

      The short winter daylight was already giving way to the early
evening darkness, as the Doctor, Jamie, and Victoria peered through
the window into the Harrises' sitting-room. There was hardly a
murmur of sound, only the rumbling of waves crashing onto the
distant sea shore. Luckily the window was not locked, so the Doctor
was able to climb into the room quite easily. Jamie and Victoria
followed him in.
       'Good!' whispered the Doctor, trying to see in the dark,
'Nobody around. Much better on our own.'
       'Speak for yourself,' said Jamie apprehensively. He wasn't at
all happy with the Doctor for bringing them back to such a place. 'I
don't see why we can't just go back to the TARDIS and get out of
here. This place is full of... of... ah... ah...' It was happening again.
Jamie was about to sneeze.
       'Jamie!' gasped Victoria. 'You're not going to...' Even as she
spoke, Jamie exploded into a fit of sneezing.
       'Gas!' The Doctor covered his mouth immediately. 'Out of here
- quick!'
       The Doctor led the way out into the hall.
       Victoria was covering her mouth with her sweater. 'Where's it
coming from?'
       'I don't know,' said the Doctor, looking up and down the hall.
'Jamie! Look in the kitchen!'
       Jamie rushed off to the kitchen, leaving the Doctor and
Victoria to find their way into the bedroom.
       The Doctor opened the bedroom door, and looked in. The
room was in darkness. 'Mrs Harris?' he called. 'Are you all right?'
       No reply. There was an ominous silence in the room.
       The Doctor fumbled for the light switch, and turned it on.
       The air was immediately pierced by the thumping, heart-beat
sound. Victoria screamed out hysterically for the floor was 'crawling
with clumps of pulsating seaweed, their bubbled tendrils reaching out
from the mass of white foam.
       Coughing and spluttering, the Doctor threw his arms around
Victoria to protect her. On the other side of the room, they were
horrified to see that Maggie Harris was missing from the bed, where
they had last seen her lying in a coma.
       'Doctor!' Jamie was yelling at the top of his voice from the
kitchen. 'Help me!'
       The Doctor quickly slammed the bedroom door and locked it.
Then he grabbed Victoria by the arm, and practically dragged her off
down the hall.
       'Jamie!' The Doctor burst into the kitchen to find his
companion in real trouble. The patio door was wide open, and Jamie
himself was balanced precariously on top of a table in the middle of
the room. All around him, the floor was just like the bedroom,
crawling with clumps of seaweed and foam, all pulsating with
hideous life. And the same merciless, thumping heartbeat!
       Jamie let out the most enormous sneeze. His eyes were
streaming with tears from the gas fumes, and he was fighting for
breath. 'Doctor! Do something! Get... get me out of here!' But he
seemed to be in an impossible situation, for he was completely
isolated by the weed and foam which prevented his escape in any
direction.
       'Stay where you are, Jamie!' yelled the Doctor frantically.
'Hold on!'
       As the Doctor was speaking, Victoria suddenly clasped here
head, as if about to swoon. 'The pressure... Doctor... my head... ' She
was struggling to breath. 'I can't stand... the pressure... '
       The Doctor caught hold of Victoria just as she was on the point
of collapse. 'No, Victoria!' He pulled her back into the hall, and
shook her violently by the shoulders. 'Come on now, Victoria! Deep
breath!' Victoria's head rolled from side to side as she struggled to
revive. Gradually, her strength returned, and she was able to stand on
her own two feet again. 'Good girl!' said the Doctor, patting
Victoria's cheeks reassuringly with his hands. 'Now - quick! Help
me!'
       'Doctor!' Jamie's calls from the kitchen were becoming more
desperate. 'Hurry... '
       The Doctor returned to the kitchen door and shouted back.
'Hold on, Jamie! Hold on!' He rushed out into the hall again to look
for something that would aid Jamie's escape. He settled on a pair of
long curtains that were hanging up at the hall window. 'Help me,
Victoria - quick!' With Victoria's help, he ripped down the curtains,
and tied them together in a huge knot lengthways. 'Stay here!'
       'Doctor... ' Jamie's voice was becoming weaker as he began to
droop under the pressure of the toxic fumes and overpowering sound
of the heartbeat.
       'Don't let it beat you now, Jamie!' yelled the Doctor from the
doorway. 'Wake up!'
       Jamie did not reply. His body was gradually crumpling
dangerously close to the edge of the table, where the weed tendrils
were waiting for him.
       This time the Doctor shouted as loud and as firmly as he could.
'Wake up, Jamie!' Jamie was sinking fast and could not respond. 'Do
as I say!' yelled the Doctor. 'Wake up!' Jamie suddenly snapped back
into life again, and rubbed his eyes. 'That's it, Jamie! That's it! Quick
now! Take the other end!' The Doctor swung one end of the curtain
round and round his head, and threw it across to Jamie who caught it
at the first attempt. 'Tie it to the leg of the table, Jamie, Hurry!'
       It was no easy task for Jamie to tie the end of the curtain to the
table leg, for the seaweed clumps seemed determined to drag him
down into the sea. But he was finally able to give a weak signal to
the Doctor that he had secured the end of the curtain to the table leg.
       'Right!' yelled the Doctor. 'Now hold on!'
       The Doctor spit on both his hands, took hold of the other end
of the curtain, and with all the strength he could muster, pulled the
table with Jamie on it, inch by inch towards the door. It was a slow,
tense movement, which seemed to provoke the seaweed clumps into
a squealing rage. The more the table moved, the more their tendrils
tried to reach up and curl themselves around Jamie's legs.
       Finally, Jamie's ordeal came to an end. As soon as the table
reached the open door the Doctor and Victoria dragged him from it,
and supported him out into the hall.
       'Let's get out of here!' yelled the Doctor, as the foam and weed
rapidly overflowed into the hall after them, bubbling, pulsating, and
squirming with aggressive life...

      Harris looked around Robson's cabin in total disbelief. Only a
few minutes earlier the place had been a mass of bubbling white
foam, and the ventilator grille jammed with the enormous figure of
the Weed Creature.
       'But it was here I tell you,' said the bewildered Harris, his eyes
darting to every corner of the room. 'I saw it!'
       Van Lutyens was only partly sceptical. 'Did you?'
       'It was trying to get into the room from the grille up there. A
huge, hideous creature with long tendrils... like a... like a gigantic
octopus. It could move... it was alive... Van Lutyens ignored him. He
was too busy looking around the room. 'You don't believe me, do
you!' snapped Harris.
       'On the contrary, my friend. I do believe you.' The Dutchman
had found a few traces of white foam near the grille opening. 'It must
have escaped through the ventilating system, just as it did in the
Oxygen Store Room.'
       'The Oxygen Room? You mean, when that girl - Victoria -
when she was locked in?'
       'Precisely.' Van Lutyens was standing on Robson's bunk,
staring up into the grille opening. 'My theory is that when you saw it,
it had already accomplished its purpose in this room, and was finding
its way out again into the ventilator shaft.'
       Harris turned to look at van Lutyens. He was puzzled.
'Accomplished its purpose? What purpose?'
       'Who knows?' replied the Dutchman, rubbing some of the foam
between his fingers. 'We know so little about this phenomenon, or
whatever it is. The trouble is, nobody is even trying to find out. Least
of all Mr Robson!'
       'Robson is in no position to find out anything,' said Harris,
tersely. 'He rushed out of this room as though he was out of his
mind.'
       'Did he now?' The Dutchman took a pointed interest in Harris's
remark. 'Well, we'd better alert security. Robson may do himself
some harm.'
       Van Lutyens took a last look around the room, then left. Harris
followed him out, and locked the door behind him. 'At least nothing's
going to get out through this door,' said Harris efficiently.
       The Dutchman shook his head in despair at Harris's feeble
logic. 'My friend, there must be hundreds of ventilator grilles in this
compound. If any of that foam is in the shaft, it could find its way out
through any one of them.'
       Harris looked crestfallen. Such a thought clearly hadn't entered
his statistical mind. 'I suppose you're right,' he sighed. 'In which case,
we must ensure that all emergency ventilators are kept shut.'
       Van Lutyens decided it was pointless trying to answer Harris.
He just marched determinedly along the corridor, with Harris
following close behind.
       'I trust you now know what you must do?' said the Dutchman,
striding on.
       'Do?'
       'You must exert your authority and take over the Compound.'
Van Lutyens stopped at the transparent door leading to the Control
Hall. He pressed a button on the wall, and the door slid open. Harris
entered first, then the Dutchman.
       'Price!' called Harris, going straight to the Control Cone. 'I
want you to alert all security posts. Mr Robson may be ill. I'd like to
know his whereabouts.'
       'Very good, sir!' Price acknowledged Harris's order, then
turned back to the Control Console to carry it out.
       Harris continued, displaying a gradual confidence in his own
authority. 'And instruct all areas to keep their emergency air vent
systems closed.'
       Price swung a puzzled look at Harris.
       'Do you understand?' asked Harris firmly. 'Then get on with it!'
       'Yes, sir!' Price turned back again to the Console.
       Van Lutyens was impressed. 'You're taking over then?' he
asked, walking with Harris to the office area.
       Harris lowered his eyes almost guiltily before replying. 'Mr
Robson's still officially in charge.'
       'I have to remind you, Harris,' said the Dutchman, 'that I have
already informed my own authorities in the Hague. As far as I am
concerned, it is now up to you to do the same with London.'
       Harris stopped walking, and brushed the lock of hair from his
eye. He hesitated a moment, tense and unsure what to do. His instinct
was telling him that what van Lutyens was asking him to do was
something that should have been done several days ago. 'Yes,' he
said, deep in thought, 'you're right.' He looked across the Hall to the
Control Cone and called, 'Price!'
    Price turned quickly, and called back. 'Sir!'
    'Get me Board Headquarters in London. I want to speak to
Megan Jones.'

        The Doctor, Jamie, and Victoria were making their way along
one of the Compound corridors leading to the Control Hall. Jamie
was still feeling queazy after his rescue from the foam and seaweed
clumps in Harris's quarters.
        'Take it easy now, Jamie,' said the Doctor, clearly worried
about Jamie's condition. 'What you need is a few hours' sleep.'
        'Aye,' said Jamie weakly. 'I wouldn'a mind so much, but I feel
so... so dizzy...' He stumbled, leaving the Doctor and Victoria to
support him.
        'It's all right, Jamie,' said the Doctor, 'Just rest a moment.'
        Jamie was panting hard. 'Aye. Just need to get my breath back.'
He straightened up, and leaned his back up against the corridor wall.
        Victoria leaned against the wall too. She was looking very
depressed. 'Oh, Doctor, why is it that we always seem to land up in
trouble?'
        The Doctor smiled affectionately. 'Spice of life, my dear.'
        'I'm not so sure,' Victoria said with a deep sigh. 'I don't really
enjoy being scared out of my wits every second.'
        The Doctor turned to give her an anxious look. 'Victoria? Is
something wrong?'
        'Wrong!' snapped Victoria tensely. 'After all that's happened in
this... this terrible place!' She suddenly realised that the Doctor was
showing concern for her. 'I'm sorry, Doctor,' she said guiltily. 'I'm
perfectly all right - really. It's just that I... well, I wish I... oh, never
mind.'
        The Doctor watched Victoria with concern as she strolled off
aimlessly along the corridor ahead of them. He was puzzled by the
mood she was in. Even Jamie noticed Victoria's odd behaviour. He
had never seen her quite like this before.
        At the Control Cone, Harris was finishing off a video
conversation with Megan Jones at Board Headquarters in London.
The woman on the central monitor screen was a redhead, in her late
forties, and attractive in a hard sort of way.
       'Thank you, Miss Jones,' said Harris, talking directly into the
audio feed built into the monitor. 'We'll see you in three hours' time.'
The woman nodded without smiling, and the screen went blank.
Harris paused anxiously, then turned to van Lutyens. 'In three hours'
time the whole compound will be crawling with Board Officials.'
       Van Lutyens shrugged his shoulders. 'Let's hope that by then
the situation hasn't got any worse.'
       The two men walked together towards the observation
platform. As they went, their conversation was of particular interest
to a couple of crewmen who were listening from a shadowy corner
near the Compound Exit door. It was Mr Oak and Mr Quill.
       'I only hope Megan Jones understands why I've taken over,'
said Harris. 'It was she who insisted that Robson should run this
particular complex in the early days.'
       The Dutchman gave Harris a comforting pat on the back. 'Stop
worrying. You did what you have to do. You couldn't have let
Robson go on ignoring the situation here. It would be criminal to
take any more chances with the men out there on those rigs. Their
safety is now the responsibility of someone far more superior than
you.'
       Harris and van Lutyens climbed the few steps up to the
observation platform, and paused briefly to glance up at the pipeline
tube.
       'If only we knew what it is we're up against,' sighed Harris.
'These creatures that have been getting into the Refinery. Where do
they come from?'
       In the shadows nearby, Mr Oak and Mr Quill exchanged a
satisfied smile.
       'Even worse,' continued Harris, 'we don't know what the devil
they actually are...'
       'That's where you're wrong, Mr Harris!'
       Everyone in the Flail turned. It was the Doctor's voice
booming out from the other side of the Communications Area. Jamie
and Victoria were with him.
       'We do know what the creatures are.' The Doctor hurried
across to Harris and van Lutyens at the observation platform. 'At
least I think I know what they are. Seaweed!'
       Van Lutyens was first to react. 'Seaweed?'
       'A somewhat different species to what you'd normally expect
to find on the beach.' The Doctor's head didn't move, but his eyes
stared straight up at. Harris and van Lutyens on the platform. 'This
particular type of weed happens to be dangerously alive.'
       There was a stunned silence throughout the Hall. All eyes were
turned towards the Doctor.
       'Alive?' Harris's response was hardly more than a whisper. 'But
how can...'
       'I think you'd better listen to me,' warned the Doctor. He turned
to address everyone in the Hall. 'All of you!' He paused, looked
around the anxious faces, and continued. 'Large formations of
seaweed are drifting onto the beach somewhere along this coastline.
Seaweed that shows clear signs of containing living organisms
similar to that of a human being.'
       There were murmurs of shock and disbelief all around.
       'Did I hear you right?' called the Chief Engineer from the open
door of the impeller area. 'You're saying it's this seaweed that's
blocking the pipeline?'
       'Yes I am!' the Doctor called back. 'In my opinion there's no
doubt about it.'
       'I knew it!' yelled the Dutchman excitedly. 'I knew it all the
time! There is no time to lose. We must clear the base of the impeller
shaft immediately... '
       'No - wait!' The Doctor stopped van Lutyens from rushing off
towards the impeller area. 'The weed is capable of protecting itself.'
       'Protecting itself?' Harris was more confused than ever.
       The Doctor started pacing up and down, half-talking to
himself. 'As far as I can make out, the weed is some kind of a
parasite that emits a toxic gas. It attaches itself to other living
things...' He stopped pacing, and looked back at Harris and van
Lutyens. 'And that, gentlemen, includes human beings.'
       In the shadows nearby, Mr Oak and Mr Quill slipped out
quietly through the Compound Exit door.
       Harris was now on the verge of panic. He rushed down the
platform steps, and went straight to the Doctor. 'Doctor. What
happens to human beings when this parasite weed attaches itself?'
        The Doctor's response was a solemn one. 'I'm afraid I don't
know that yet, Mr Harris.'
        'But my wife was stung by the seaweed.'
        'Yes, but she appeared to survive. How is she now?'
        'I asked the Medicare Matron to bring her in.' He turned to
Price at the Control Cone and called, 'Get Medicare for me! Ask
them what condition my wife is in!'
        'Yes, sir!' Price turned back to the Control Console.
        Harris walked with the Doctor to join Jamie and Victoria. He
lowered his voice as he spoke. 'Doctor. I saw one of these creature
things that your friend Victoria saw in the Oxygen Room.'
        The Doctor swung Harris a startled look. 'You did? Where?'
        'In Mr Robson's cabin. It might have attacked him - I don't
know. But he was in a wild state when I went to see him. He just
rushed out of the room like a madman, and hasn't been seen since.'
        'Oh, dear...' The Doctor was disguising his worst fears.
        'Mr Harris!' Price was calling from the Control Cone.
        Harris called back. 'What is it?'
        'Sir, Matron says she's sorry, but she hasn't brought your wife
in yet. She's sending someone over to your quarters now.'
        The Doctor turned suddenly in alarm and called to Price, 'What
was that you said?'
        'What is it, Doctor?' asked Harris, sensing the Doctor's anxiety.
'What's wrong?'
        'Mr Harris, we've just come from your quarters. Your wife
wasn't there.'
        'Aye,' added Jamie breathlessly, 'and the place was crawling
with that foam and seaweed stuff!'
        Harris's face looked like white marble, and his lips turned blue.
'Is this true?' he asked the Doctor.
        The Doctor frowned and replied gravely, 'I'm afraid so.'
        'Then where is she? What's happened to her?'
        Harris was now beside himself with fear and apprehension.
But the Doctor's response could only be a helpless shrug of the
shoulders.
       Van Lutyens came forward to try and offer some logical
explanation to Harris for his wife's disappearance. 'Harris, I'm sure
you'll find that - '
       'Out of my way!' snapped Harris, as he pushed the Dutchman
aside and rushed out of the Hall. Everyone watched him go in
stunned, helpless silence.
       'What has happened to Mrs Harris?' Van Lutyens asked the
Doctor. 'Is it something to do with the seaweed creatures?'
       The Doctor lowered his head, covered his eyes, and replied
gravely, 'I don't know. I just don't know...'

       The sky was clear now, and in the twilight the first star of
night was already visible to the naked eye. The sunset had
bequeathed a dark, crimson glow along the vast thin line of the
horizon. The ripples on the waves were glistening like rubies,
disguising the endless fronds of seaweed and foam that were drifting
in on the evening tide. The afternoon thaw had dispersed most of the
thin blanket of snow covering the surrounding hills, and on the beach
the small pools of seawater were edged with the first signs of a hard
frost.
       The beach was totally deserted but for the solitary figure of a
woman. She was nothing more than a silhouette against the fading
twilight, standing by the water's edge, her gaze transfixed out to sea.
There were small formations of hair-like weed growing on her neck,
face, and hands.
       The woman was Maggie Harris.
       As the ice-cold waves pounded onto the shoreline, and the
foam and weed gathered into one vast mass, Maggie became aware
that someone was approaching her from along the beach. She did not
turn to look. It was as though she knew who or what to expect. The
sound of footsteps crunching on shingles came to a halt right beside
her. She did not turn to look. 'There is little time,' said Maggie. Her
voice was eerily soft and controlled. 'You know what you must do.'
       'Yes.' The voice that replied was that of a man.
       'You will obey?' asked Maggie.
       The man nodded without speaking. It was Robson. He looked
tired, his face drained of all blood. Like Maggie, he was obviously
under the 'control' of some unseen force.
       Both were now staring out to sea. They were oblivious to the
biting cold and icy spray from the tide that was lapping perilously
close to their feet. Only one thought dominated their minds. It was
the gradual approach of the thumping, heartbeat sound.
       Maggie spoke again. 'It is time for me to go. You will stay.'
       The thumping sound was becoming louder and louder, closer
and closer.
       Maggie did not speak again. She and Robson remained as still
as marble, their lifeless eyes transfixed towards the open, darkening
sea. Their mission now was to wait.
       The thumping sound was reaching a crescendo. Then
suddenly, as if commanded by a signal, Maggie started to move.
Slowly, methodically, she began to wade into the oncoming tide. The
water was now seething with foam, and the mass of weed was
wriggling with impatient anticipation.
       Robson, under complete control now, stared impassively out to
sea.
       Maggie was wading deeper and deeper into the foam. Her eyes
were transfixed mesmerically out to the wide expanse of ocean.
Soon, the foam was above her waist, then her shoulders. But still she
did not, could not, stop.
       It took only a few moments for Maggie to disappear beneath
the surface of the water, which was engulfed by the deadly weed and
foam. And as she went, the thumping, heartbeat sound became a
squeal, a shriek of triumph, echoing across the beach and hills.
       Robson remained quite still. For him, the night had only just
begun.
                          8
                   The Impeller Shaft
       'Rig D... Rig D... Control calling Rig D. Come in, please!'
There was a note of desperation in Price's voice as he tried to restore
video contact with Rig D out at sea. But the central monitor screen at
the Control Cone remained stubbornly blank. Price turned to van
Lutyens and the Doctor, who were anxiously watching the screen.
'I'm sorry, sir. I can't raise them.'
       The Dutchman rubbed his chin despondently. 'Try Rig A
again.'
       Price shook his head. 'I've been trying them ever since first
light this morning, sir. That's three of the rigs not answering now.'
       Van Lutyens was in a quandary. Robson had vanished, and
Harris had rushed off in a panic to look for his wife. If someone in
authority didn't soon take action, the morale of the men out on the
remaining rigs was going to crack. He turned to Price again, who was
waiting for further orders. 'Try the Guard Posts again. See if there is
any sign of Mr Harris.'
       'Yes, sir!' Price turned back to the Control Console.
       Van Lutyens, deep in thought, moved off slowly towards the
office Area. The Doctor walked with him.
       'Three rigs now,' said the Dutchman gravely, 'with absolutely
no contact with them whatsoever. Something's happened to them, I
just know it.'
       'Can't you send someone out to investigate?' suggested the
Doctor.
       'Unfortunately, I have no authority. I am here purely as a
technical adviser. Harris is in charge now. When he comes back he
must authorise the Company helicopter to go out and take a look at
the rigs.'
       As they reached the office Area, van Lutyens stopped and
turned. He was looking up at the pipeline tube curling around the
Communications Hall.
        'Are you absolutely certain there's nothing we can do?' asked
the Doctor.
        'Nothing,' replied the Dutchman pessimistically. 'All we can do
is to sit - and wait.'

      In the Impeller Area, the Chief Engineer was also staring up at
the pipeline tube. It was an abomination to him that the impeller - his
impeller - was being silenced by forces beyond his control. The safe
running of the Refinery impeller had preoccupied the Chief's life for
so many years now. To many, he was the impeller. They called him
the 'Chief' mainly because few even knew his real name.
      The Chief's crewmen were just as despondent. They were
lounging around aimlessly, some squatting on the floor, some
standing with hands in pockets, others nodding off from sheer
exhaustion.
      The deadly silence was to be short-lived.
      Everyone suddenly sprang into life and turned to look at the
surface of the shaft. Their blood was chilled with terror. It was the
sound again. That sound. Thumping. Pulsating. Somewhere down
below, in the dark bowels of the impeller shaft...

      Jamie and Victoria were back in the crew cabin they had first
been taken to after their capture by the Refinery Security Guards.
Jamie was half asleep on the upper bunk, but Victoria was sitting on
the edge of the lower bunk, deep in agonising thought.
      Victoria sighed, and finally spoke. 'Jamie?'
      There was no reply. In his dream, Jamie was playing his
bagpipes on the banks of some windswept Highland loch. But his
snores were not exactly musical.
      'Jamie!' Victoria stood up and glared at Jamie. 'Are you
asleep?'
      Jamie's eyes sprang open, but they were glazed with sleep.
'Huh? Och no,' he groaned with a wide yawn, 'just resting ma eyes.'
      'I don't know how you can just drop off like that with all this
trouble going on.'
      'Stop worrying will ye,' complained Jamie, his eyelids having
great difficulty in remaining open. 'The Doctor's bound to come up
with some sort of solution. He always does.' He curled up, and turned
his back on her.
        'Yes,' said Victoria, half to herself. She was in a strange,
tormented mood again. 'But what then?'
        'How d'you mean, "what then?" '
        'I mean, where will we go the next time?'
        Jamie turned over again. It was clear that Victoria was not
going to let him have his sleep. 'You know better than to ask a daft
question like that! We never know where we're going to end up.
That's the fun of it.'
        'Is it?' Victoria's large blue eyes were staring up at Jamie. They
looked distant, and sad.
        Jamie sat upright. He was concerned about Victoria. Ever since
they first met, she'd been like a sister to him. They often knew what
each other was thinking without actually puting it into words. But
this was different. Just lately, Victoria had been showing no
enthusiasm for her travels in the TARDIS. 'What's the matter,
Victoria?' asked Jamie, looking his companion straight in the eyes
with his inimitable reassuring smile. 'You've been behaving strange
ever since - '
        'It's nothing.' Victoria moved away quickly. 'It doesn't matter.'
        'You'll only worry the Doctor if you keep on...'
        'Oh, for goodness sake, I said it didn't matter!' Victoria had
turned her back on Jamie, and was glaring tensely out of the porthole
window.
        Jamie watched Victoria with a mixture of incredulity and
anxiety. This was not the Victoria he knew. Something was very
wrong.
        Victoria turned from the window. She was consumed with
guilt. 'I'm sorry, Jamie. I didn't mean to... go back to sleep - please.'
        Jamie took a moment or so to believe her apologetic smile.
Then he reluctantly settled back on his bunk again. 'Aye. Well don't
you go worrying about that silly old weed,' he said. 'The Doctor will
think of something.'
        'Will he?' Victoria was gazing aimlessly out through the
window again. So many questions were pulverising her thoughts.
The weed grows, feeds off natural gas. But how fast does it grow,
and what happens to those people who are physically touched by it?
Victoria's innermost fears suddenly took on a horrifying reality.
'Jamie,' she said, turning quickly. 'I'm so frightened...'
        Jamie was fast asleep, and snoring majestically. Victoria came
across to the bunk, and glared at him. At first she was annoyed to be
ignored, but as she watched him lying there with a look of perfect
peace on his face, she couldn't resist an affectionate smile. To
Victoria, Jamie was a very special person, the sort of brother
everyone should have.
        Suddenly, Victoria turned with a shocked gasp. Someone had
entered the room behind her. 'Oh, it's you...' she said, sighing with
relief.
        'Sorry, Victoria,' said the Doctor, closing the door. 'Did I startle
you? Ah!' He went straight to look at Jamie, whose snores now
sounded like a Highland reel. 'Well, he certainly needed some sleep.
In fact, we all need some...' He stretched his arms, and yawned.
        Victoria sat down again on the edge of the lower bunk.
'Doctor,' she asked solemnly. 'What do you think is going on in this
terrible place?'
        The Doctor went to look out through the porthole window. 'I'm
not sure, Victoria. I'm not sure at all.' He squinted as the early
morning sun beamed across his tired face. 'It all looks so peaceful out
there.'
        Victoria waited a moment, then said, 'I heard that noise again.
It was in the pipeline tube.'
        The Doctor turned from the window, and nodded. 'Yes. I
know. So did I.'
        'Are they doing anything about it?'
        'No. We have to wait.'
        'Wait!' Victoria snapped. 'Wait for what? For that awful Weed
Creature to come and attack us all?'
        'Now, now, Victoria.' The Doctor immediately sensed
Victoria's tension. He left the window, and went to sit beside her on
the lower bunk. 'It's not as bad as that, you know.'
        'Isn't it?' Victoria was not reassured. 'Even you don't really
know how bad it is, do you? Come on now, Doctor, tell the truth - do
you?'
       The Doctor hesitated, then lowered his eyes uneasily. 'Well...
not exactly - no.' He quickly looked up at Victoria for her reaction.
       Victoria covered her eyes with her hands. She was clearly
unnerved by the Doctor's uncertainty. 'Every time we go somewhere,
something awful happens. Cybermen, Daleks, Yeti - all sorts of
horrible things.' She turned to look at him. There was a pleading look
in her eyes. 'Why can't we ever go where there's no fighting, no wars
- just peace and happiness?'
       The Doctor put his arm around Victoria, and she gently rested
her head on his shoulder. 'My dear child,' said the Doctor
reflectively. 'I'd take you there tomorrow - if I knew such a place
existed.'

       The beach was shrouded in a thin film of grey mist. The early
morning sun was doing its best to penetrate the mist, and there were
signs that within an hour or so it was going to turn out to be a fine,
crisp winter's day.
       Harris's feet were crunching on the shingles. He was well
wrapped up against the bitter cold. Only his face was visible beneath
the heavy Euro-Gas Company issue anorak. He came to a halt near
the water's edge, and called out, 'Maggie! Where are you?' His voice
sounded dull and lifeless in the frosty mist. For a few moments, he
just stood there in the silence, waiting, hoping for a response to his
call. Nothing. He tried again. 'Maggie! Maggie, where... are... you?'
Again nothing, only the sound of gentle waves breaking onto the
shingles. But as he slowly turned, a slight breeze caused the mist to
twirl, and as it did so, Harris could just glimpse the outline of a
human figure standing at the water's edge, only a short distance away
from him. 'Maggie!' he called excitedly. 'Darling!' He rushed toward
the figure. But it was not his wife. It was a man.
       The man was Robson.
       Harris was shocked. 'Mr Robson! What arc you doing out here,
sir?'
       Robson did not reply. He was staring out to sea, a smile of
calm and contentment on his face. It was almost as though he was
mesmerised by the sounds coming from the depths of the ocean
beyond.
       Harris placed himself right in front of Robson, looking straight
into his eyes. 'Sir, you have no coat on. You'll catch your death of
cold.'
       Robson still did not reply. His eyes were focussed through
Harris rather than at him. He also looked older, and his hair was
streaked with grey. That was something Harris hadn't noticed before.
       Harris tried again. 'Mr Robson. Have you seen my wife?'
       This time Robson did reply. But his voice was unnaturally
quiet, almost inaudible. And his gaze was still bland, his thought-
patterns controlled from elsewhere. 'Your wife?'
       Harris stared at him eagerly. 'I've been searching all night for
her. Please Mr Robson, if you've seen her...'
       'You will find her, Mr Harris.' Robson's voice sounded stilted,
almost robotic. And he made no effort to even look at Harris. 'You
will soon be with her.'
       'Are you sure you haven't seen her?' asked Harris desperately.
But again Robson didn't reply. He just turned away, and walked off
along the beach. Harris watched him go in disbelief, then called after
him. 'Mr Robson!'
       Robson never looked hack. The last Harris saw of him was a
silhouetted figure disappearing back into the grey, frosty mist that
was now folding itself back in layers along the entire stretch of
shoreline.

       Back at the Refinery, van Lutyens was preparing to go down
the impeller shaft. The Doctor and Jamie were tying a rope around
his waist, whilst the Dutchman himself was checking the gas mask
hanging around his neck.
       'If you don't mind my saying Mr van Lutyens,' said the Doctor,
testing the huge knot he had just tied in the Dutchman's rope, 'this is
a very bad idea of yours. You don't know what you're up against.'
       'Aye,' Jamie agreed, 'you wouldna' get me down there!'
       'Thank you for your advice, gentlemen,' replied the Dutchman
determinedly, 'but I must handle this my way.'
       'With respect, sir,' said the Chief Engineer, pushing his way
through the group of crewmen who were waiting anxiously by the
impeller shaft, 'don't you think we should wait until Mr Harris comes
back?'
       The Dutchman shook his head. 'No, Chief. The only way to
find out if this seaweed of yours is blocking the base of the shaft, is
to go down there.'
       'But you can't go alone, sir.'
       The Dutchman hesitated, then turned to look back at the Chief.
'Will you send some of your men with me?'
       The Chief was taken aback. He looked around the group of
anxious faces. They were dreading his reply. 'I couldn't do that, sir.
Not without official approval.' The men breathed a sigh of relief.
       The Dutchman grinned cynically. 'Thank you, Chief. Then let's
get on with it, shall we?'
       Two engineers helped him onto the lift platform. The two men
were not dressed like the others. They were wearing white caps,
jackets, and gloves. It was Mr Oak and Mr Quill.
       'You know, I wish you wouldn't do this, Mr van Lutyens,' said
the Doctor uneasily.
       The Dutchman tested the strength of the rope tied around his
waist. 'Just make sure you keep a firm hold on this rope. If anything
goes wrong down there, I rely on you to pull me up.' He nodded to
the two engineers. Mr Quill closed the safety rail, then Mr Oak
pushed the operating button. Immediately a low humming sound was
heard, and the lift started to move.
       The Doctor and Jamie exchanged a sceptical, worried look, as
they watched the indomitable figure of van Lutyens in the open lift,
gradually disappearing out of view, down into the darkness of the
impeller shaft...

      The huge vertical shaft was a cold and eerie place, running
parallel to the giant impeller itself, and extending deep into the
bowels of the earth beneath the Refinery. Near the surface, small
oval windows were cut into the circular metallic walls, but these
were used mainly to check for any possible fractures in the pipeline
tube. The only light available was that filtering down from the
surface, and despite the air-conditioning system in the shaft, the air
was thick and stifling.
        Slowly, the lift platform descended to the base of the shaft, its
passenger light casting a lattice of shadows around the metallic walls.
Van Lutyens stood there alone, staring up at the anxious faces that
were peering down at him from the surface, dreading what might be
waiting for him below. As the lift eased deeper and deeper into the
earth, he felt as though he was drowning, his whole life dancing
before him.
        Suddenly, the lift came to an abrupt halt. It had reached its
final destination, the base of the shaft.
        Van Lutyens paused a moment, and took one last look up at
the group of faces peering down at him from the surface. They were
now no more than a small blob of blurred light. Then he raised the
lift's safety rail, turned on his torch, and stepped out onto a narrow
metal ledge which completely encircled the walls of the shaft.
        Without the pulverising sound of the giant impeller, the shaft
seemed to be simmering with dark secrets, bathed in an unnatural
silence. Every step that the Dutchman took sent echoes reverberating
around the huge metallic cylinder.
        Van Lutyens moved slowly, cautiously. The beam from his
electronic torch darted from one part of the wall to another. So far so
good. Everything just as it should be. At least, that's the way it
looked. He moved on.
        Eventually, the Dutchman's torch found what it was searching
for. The beam fell onto a steel airlock door in the floor of the shaft,
which gave access to the pipeline tube beneath the Refinery.
        Climbing down from the inspection ledge, van Lutyens placed
his torch on the floor, and slowly started turning the airlock wheel. It
moved stubbornly, with a metallic grating sound that sent piercing
echoes around the cylindrical walls.
        As soon as he was satisfied that the wheel was fully unlocked,
van Lutyens took a deep breath, and using all his strength, gradually
pulled open the door. He paused a moment and listened. Complete
silence. He stooped down to peer through the open door in the floor.
Pitch dark. Not a sound. He picked up his torch again, and directed
its beam down into the chamber beneath.
        The horror was immediate. The eerie silence suddenly
exploded into a cacophony of frenzied sound. It was the heartbeat.
Thumping. Pulsating. The entire shaft area was vibrating. Van
Lutyens was paralysed with fear. By the lightof his torch he stared in
terror at the cataclysmic sight beneath him. The entire pipeline
chamber was engulfed in a seething, shapeless mass of seaweed
formations, all pulsating, thumping, squealing in a surge of white
bubbling foam. It was a nightmare vision, a breeding ground for an
alien life-force from the dark depths of the ocean. It was a colony of
devils!
       'Van Lutyens... ' The Doctor's voice echoed down the lift shaft,
but it had to compete with the awesome sound of the alien heartbeat.
       'Doctor!' Van Lutyens yelled back frantically, but in his panic
to escape, he dropped his torch and the beam went out, plunging the
shaft into darkness again. He leapt up quickly, and tried to scramble
back onto the inspection ledge. But it was too late. He started to
cough and splutter. There was a hissing sound, and the smell of gas
filled the shaft. He turned quickly, to look back over his shoulder.
Even in the dark he could see it, the shapeless form of a massive
Weed Creature, rising up from the foam, hissing deadly gas fumes,
its tendrils slowly snaking their way towards van Lutyens.
       Van Lutyens made one last attempt to climb up onto the
inspection ledge. But the creature's tendrils were on him, wrapping
themselves around his ankles, pulling him back towards the foam.
       The Dutchman only had time to scream once.

      Van Lutyens's scream sent a cold chill of terror amongst the
group waiting at the surface of the lift shaft.
      'Get him up!' yelled the Chief Engineer. The tension had
drained all the blood from his face.
      Mr Oak pressed the lift operating button. A humming sound
was heard, and the lift started its slow ascent to the surface.
      'Doctor, what is it? What's happened?' Victoria had entered the
Impeller Area.
      'It's van Lutyens, the Dutchman,' said Jamie gloomily. 'He's
down there.'
      Victoria went to the edge of the shaft and looked down at the
approaching lift. 'What's happened to him?'
       The Doctor was clearly expecting the worst. 'We don't know,
Victoria.'
       The lift finally reached the surface, and came to a stop with a
dull thud. Everyone gathered round to look inside. It was empty.
       'He's still down there,' said the Chief in despair. Mr Oak and
Mr Quill exchanged a brief smile.
       'Well, we can't just leave him there!' The Doctor was irritated
with the Chief's casual acceptance of the emergency.
       'What are we going to do, Doctor?' asked Jamie.
       The Doctor's reply was firm and decisive. 'We're going down
there!'
       Jamie mouth dropped open wide in horror. 'You may be, but
I'm no'!'
       'Jamie!' The Doctor turned to Jamie with one of those cumning
smiles that he usually reserved for gentle persuasion. 'You surely
wouldn't let me go down that shaft on my own - would you?'
       Jamie was adamant. 'Look, Doctor, if you think I'm going to - '
He stopped, hesitated, then sighed deeply. 'Och! Come on then!'
       The Doctor grinned, patted Jamie on the back affectionately,
then got into the lift. Jamie followed him.
       'Doctor, you can't do this,' said Victoria anxiously. 'You don't
know what's down there. You can't go!'
       The Doctor closed the safety rail. 'Don't worry, Victoria. We'll
be back. That's a promise.'
       Mr Oak pressed the operating button, and the lift rumbled
down the shaft.
       Harris entered the Communications Hall. After searching all
night for Maggie, he looked tired, drawn, unshaven, and numb from
the cold.
       Price turned from the Control Cone. 'Mr Harris! We've been
looking all night for you.' He was shocked by Harris's appearance.
'Are you all right, sir?'
       Harris didn't reply, but asked wearily, 'Is there any news of my
wife?'
       'I'm afraid not, sir. You mean, you didn't find her?'
       Harris shook his head.
       Price was genuinely shocked. He knew how much Harris and
his wife adored each other. Theirs was one of the few truly
successful and devoted married relationships on the Compound. 'I'm
very sorry, sir.'
       Harris rubbed his tired eyes, and squinted at the TV monitor.
'What's happening?'
       Price frowned. 'Megan Jones, sir.'
       'What about her?'
       'She's just arrived from Headquarters in London. She and her
secretary have just passed through the outer perimeter gate. They'll
be here any minute.'
       Harris suddenly came to life. 'Let me know the moment she
gets here!' he snapped brusquely. 'Where's Mr van Lutyens?'
       'I believe he's in the Impeller Area, sir. Something terrible
seems to have happened.'
       'What's going on here?' All the impeller engineers turned to
look at Harris, who was yelling from the doorway.
       'Mr Harris!' There was a clear note of relief in the Chief
Engineer's voice. 'Thank goodness you're back, sir.'
       Harris came striding across to meet the Chief at the shaft.
'Where's Mr van Lutyens?'
       'He went down the shaft, sir.'
       'He what?'
       'He wanted to find out what's blocking the pipeline.'
       Harris glared at the Chief with incredulity. 'Where is he now?'
       The Chief rubbed his mouth nervously with the back of his
hand. 'He hasn't come back, sir. The Doctor and the boy have gone
down after him...'
       Harris exploded with anger as he had never done before. 'You
fool! You stupid fool! Don't you know what you've done?' He
quickly turned from the Chief, and yelled at Mr Oak and Mr Quill,
who were waiting by the lift shaft controls. 'Get them up at once!' Mr
Oak and Mr Quill were bewildered by Harris's outburst. 'Did you
hear what I said?' Harris yelled again. 'Stop that lift!'
       Mr Oak was galvanised into action. But as he turned to push
the lift operating button, the humming sound of the lift's descent
came to an abrupt halt. Mr Oak hesitated, then after exchanging a
faint, wry smile with Mr Quill, turned to Harris and said
apologetically, 'I'm sorry, sir. It's too late.'

        At the bottom of the impeller shaft, the Doctor and Jamie
found themselves plunged into darkness - and silence. For a moment
they remained in the lift, without moving, without saying a word. All
they could do was to listen.
        Jamie was first to speak. It was no more than a whisper. 'Why
do I let you talk me into these things? We canna see a hand in front
of us.'
        The Doctor tried hard to sound confident. 'Nothing to worry
about, Jamie. Just follow me.' He opened the safety rail and stepped
out. Jamie followed close behind.
        Like the Dutchman before them, their feet echoed on a metallic
surface. The air was thick and clammy.
        'Watch your step now,' warned the Doctor. 'We're on the
inspection ledge. The pipeline chamber should be somewhere
directly beneath us.'
        Within a few moments, they had succeeded in climbing down
from the ledge. Step by precarious step, they edged their way
towards the airlock in the middle of the floor.
        'Aaaaah...!' Jamie suddenly leapt back with a gasp.
        'Jamie! What is it?'
        Jamie was shivering. 'I - I don't know. I've just kicked
something... on the floor... ' Cautiously, he stooped clown and
searched the floor blindly with his hand. Eventually, he found the
object. 'It's a torch,' he said. 'Must be van Lutyens's.'
        'Yes,' said the Doctor, his eyes desperately trying to pierce the
darkness. 'But where is he?' He moved away a few steps, then called
back. 'Over here, Jamie! Shine the torch!'
        Jamie tried to switch on the torch. 'Och! It's no good. The
stupid thing's broken.'
        The Doctor was crawling about on his hands and knees in the
dark. 'I think I've found the door to the pipeline chamber. It's wide
open!'
       Jamie didn't like this at all. The dark made him feel far too
vulnerable. 'Doctor, let's get out of here,' he called nervously. 'I've
got a feeling there's something evil down here.'

       'It all seems quiet enough to me, Miss Jones.' This earth-
shattering observation came from Ronald Perkins, secretary to
Megan Jones, Chairperson of the Refinery Board. He was an effete
young man, a devoted, ambitious civil servant, who would sooner die
than contradict his superiors.
       'Of course it's quiet, Perkins,' said the Chairperson, who,
together with Perkins, was being accompanied by an armed Security
Guard along a corridor, on the way to the Communications Hall.
'Robson's an efficient man. That's why I gave him control of this
Refinery. He knows the job backwards.'
       'Then why the sudden panic?'
       'I don't know. Young Harris was rather vague about what's
going on here.'
       'Vague? He said he was taking over from Robson. I wouldn't
call that vague!' The moment he finished speaking, Perkins wished
he could have bitten his tongue. He had made a fatuous remark.
       The Chairperson came to a halt immediately. Perkins did
likewise. Also the Security Guard. Megan Jones was an attractive
middle-aged woman. She was born in the Rhondda Valley, the
daughter of a coal-miner, but for reasons best known to herself, had
decided to disguise her appealing Welsh accent in favour of a more
affected London boardroom brogue. 'Perkins,' she said quietly, gently
arranging her vivid red hair, 'you haven't met Robson, have you?'
       'No.'
       The Chairperson smiled. 'No. Well, I think when you do you
will realise that he isn't the sort of man one pushes around.'
       Perkins did his best to look intelligent. It was a difficult task.
'Then what's all this about?'
       'Probably nothing more than just an internal squabble. Harris is
a bright boy. I sent him down here to Robson because I thought he
might benefit from Robson's practical experience. Obviously they
just haven't hit it off.'
       Perkins straightened his carefully knotted tie. 'But what was all
that panic about the Refinery being in danger?'
       The Chairperson's smile became more fixed. She never liked
being cross-examined by anyone, let alone Perkins. 'Don't get carried
away by Harris's hysterics, Perkins.'
       Perkins was beginning to blush. 'All I meant was, if there's no
panic, why did we - I mean - why did you have to come rushing
down here like this?'
       The Chairperson took a deep, bored sigh. 'We came down here,
Perkins, to referee a battle between two clever men, neither of whom
the Company can afford to lose.'
       'In other words, we're pouring oil? Politics?'
       The Chairperson smiled condescendingly at her secretary.
'That's my guess, Perkins. Anyway, let's go and see shall we?'
       Perkins smiled back weakly at his superior, then quickly
followed her along the corridor.

       In the impeller area, there was an atmosphere of quiet
desperation. Victoria, Harris, the Chief Engineer and all his crewmen
were staring down into the darkness of the lift shaft, anxiously
awaiting a sign from the Doctor and Jamie that they were safe.
       'Isn't there any way we can get them up?' asked Harris. His
voice was echoing clown the shaft as he spoke.
       The Chief shook his head. 'We daren't bring the lift up in case
they want to get back in a hurry. Mind you, there's always the
emergency ladder down the inside of the shaft.'
       Victoria was becoming more and more despondent. 'I do wish
they'd hurry,' she sighed.
       'Mr Harris!' Price was calling from the doorway. 'Megan Jones
and her secretary have just arrived.'
       Harris turned. 'Blast!' he groaned, then sighed. 'Tell her I'll be
right there.'
       'Yes, sir!' Price left.
       Harris brushed his usual troublesome lock of hair from his eye.
'Chief, you'd better come with me. I'm going to need some support
when I talk to Megan Jones.'
        'Of course, sir,' said the Chief as he followed Harris to the
door.
       Victoria immediately started to panic. 'But what about the
Doctor and Jamie? You can't just leave them down there.'
       Harris stopped at the door. 'I'm sorry,' he said, shrugging his
shoulders helplessly. 'There doesn't seem to be a great deal we can do
at the moment.' Then he called to Mr Oak. 'As soon as they signal,
bring them up. If there's any sign of trouble, come and get me.'
       'Yes, sir!' replied Mr Oak firmly, and turning to his partner
said, 'You can rely on us. Isn't that so, Mr Quill?' Mr Quill nodded
back confidently.
       As soon as Harris and the Chief had gone, Victoria swung an
uneasy glance at Mr Oak and Mr Quill. They did not exactly fill her
with confidence. 'Will they be all right down there?' she asked
apprehensively. 'I mean, is it safe?'
       'Oh yes, Miss,' assured Mr Oak. 'Now, don't you go worrying
about a thing. We'll look after them.' And again he turned to his
partner. 'Won't we, Mr Quill?'
       Mr Oak and Mr Quill smiled benevolently.

       'Creatures? Seaweed creatures?' The Chairperson of the Board
was sitting regally in a chair near the Control Cone. She turned to her
secretary, who was standing just behind her. 'What do you say to
that, Perkins?'
       Perkins didn't know what to say. In fact, he rarely did know
what to say. He much preferred to agree with other people's
comments, especially if those people happened to be his superiors.
On this occasion he merely shook his head with a wry smirk.
       'It's true, Miss Jones,' insisted Harris, doing his best to avoid
the Chairperson's penetrating look. He hated dealing with Megan
Jones. She had the reputation in the business of always getting her
own way.
       'You can't be serious, Mr Harris?' The Chairperson's response
was cool and mocking.
       'These creatures have been seen in the Refinery itself.'
       Now Perkins joined in. 'By some half-witted Doctor and a
couple of teenagers?'
       'And by me!' snapped Harris.
       'You've seen them?' asked the Chairperson.
       'Yes, Miss Jones,' Harris replied firmly. 'I've seen them.'
       'Mr Harris. I understand your wife... has had some sort of
accident. This has obviously been a considerable shock to you, and...'
       Harris resented this. 'You think I'm lying. That I was seeing
things? Believe me, there are things you don't know.'
       The Chairperson sat up in her seat. 'Mr Harris, I know that
throughout the Southern Region, receiving stations are working on
emergency supplies. What are we going to do about it?'
       'At present there is nothing we can do.' Harris pointed up to the
illuminated panel at the top of the Cone. 'One by one we are losing
contact with the rigs out at sea.'
       The Chairperson rose quickly from her seat. 'Then I suggest
you send someone out there to see what's going on.'
       Harris stared her out, determined not to be riled again. 'Have I
your permission to call out Air Defence?'
       'No, you have not. This is not a National Emergency. Use the
Company helicopters.'
       Harris was dumbfounded by such intransigence. 'Miss Jones,
you don't understand the situation...'
       'Do as I say, Mr Harris!'
       Harris glared at the Chairperson, doing everything he could to
control his mounting temper. But Megan Jones was in charge, and
that was definitely not open to discussion. After a moment of
desperate frustration, Harris turned to Price at the Control monitor.
'Get me the Chopper Hangar,' he ordered. Price duly obeyed.
       Now satisfied that she was getting her own way, the
Chairperson built on her authority. 'Now then, Mr Harris, I think it's
time I talked with Chief Robson.'
       Harris's reply was guarded. 'I'm sorry. The Chief is... not very
well.'
       'Not well? In what way?'
       Harris quickly looked around his crewmen for assurance.
'Something's... happened to him. That's all I can tell you.'
       'What?' The Chairperson was losing her patience. 'What's
happened to him.'
       Harris did not reply. He tried to avoid the question by looking
up at the illuminated panel on top of the Cone.
       The Chairperson took two infuriated steps towards Harris and
stared him straight in the face. 'Mr Harris, I'll ask you again. What
has happened to Chief Robson?'
       Harris exchanged a quick, desperate look with Price. This was
one question that he just could not answer.

        At the bottom of the impeller shaft, the Doctor and Jamie were
straining their eyes to see in the dark. The only light available was
coming from the surface of the shaft, and to Jamie that seemed like a
million miles away. 'Can you see anything, Doctor?' he whispered,
determined not to move an inch unless he had to.
        'No, it's too dark.' The Doctor was on his hands and knees
trying to look down into the Pipeline Chamber beneath the floor. 'Not
a sign of van Lutyens.'
        That was good enough for Jamie. 'Aye. Well no point in
hanging about down here, eh?'
        'Just a minute!' There was a sudden alarm in the Doctor's
voice.
        'What is it?'
        'Listen!'
        Gradually they could hear it. A faint bubbling sound beneath
them.
        The Doctor yelled. 'Out of here, Jamie! Quick!'
        Almost as the Doctor spoke, they were completely
overwhelmed by the deafening sound of the alien heartbeat. That was
immediately followed by a surge of white bubbling foam, oozing into
the shaft area from the pipeline chamber below. The sounds were
horrifying, totally out of control. Thumping, pulsating, squealing,
like a symphony of menace.
        'Back to the lift, Jamie! Fast as you can.' The Doctor had to
yell at the top of his voice to be heard.
        There followed a mad scramble in the dark. This time, Jamie
led the way, climbing back up onto the inspection ledge, hoisting the
Doctor up after him. Behind them, the bubbling foam was spreading
itself across the shaft area, eagerly searching out its prey.
      With their backs pressed up against the metallic cylindrical
wall, the Doctor and Jamie finally felt their way back to the lift.
Quickly smalling clown the safety rail, the Doctor yelled, 'The
emergency alarm, Jamie! Press the alarm!'
      'I'm pressing it!' Jamie was yelling frantically. 'It's not
working.'

      At surface level, the lift emergency light was flashing
frenziedly. But there was no one there to answer it. No Mr Oak. No
Mr Quill. No Victoria. No engineers. The place was deserted.
                           9
                The Battle of the Giants
       'Feed Headquarters calling Rig D. Feed Headquarters calling
Rig D. Are you receiving me? Come in, please. Over!'
       Watched by an anxious group including Harris, Megan Jones,
Perkins, and the Chief Engineer, Price was at the Control Cone trying
to re-establish visual contact with yet another rig out in the North Sea
which had failed to respond to urgent messages. But the TV monitor
screen serving Rig D remained defiantly blank, streaked only with
distorted electrical interference.
       Price tried again, his calls becoming more and more tense.
'Come in please, Rig D. Come in please! Over!'
       Harris turned away from the Cone in despair. 'It's no use.
There won't be a reply.'
       'Don't be a fool, man!' snapped the Chairperson. We must keep
trying. If there are men out on those rigs, there must be a reply.'
       Harris swung back angrily to Megan Jones. 'If! If! If!' he
growled. 'But we don't know!' He had now reached the stage where
he couldn't care less if he upset authority. After all, if the North Sea
Gas Network were destroyed by alien forces, there wouldn't be any
jobs for anyone. 'Miss Jones,' he said, staring the Chairperson
straight in the eye, 'do you understand that we have already lost
contact with three of our drilling rigs?'
       Now Perkins joined in. 'You say there's definitely something
down in the impeller shaft blocking the flow?'
       'I mean, you're absolutely sure it's not a mechanical fault?'
'That was the Chairperson's obvious assessment. 'You've checked the
impeller?'
       This time it was the Chief Engineer's turn to speak out. 'Every
last nut and bolt has been checked!' His voice was firm and
confident. 'Whatever it is that's blocking the flow has nothing to do
with mechanical failure. The problem is out of our control, right
there, down in that shaft!'
       The Chairperson swung a look of disbelief at the Chief
Engineer. Then she slowly turned, to see the groups of anxious faces
all around the Communications Hall. watching and waiting for her
response.
       For the first time the Chairperson was beginning to take the
situation seriously.

        The impeller shaft was under siege. Not only was the thumping
heartbeat sound swelling to an unbearable pitch, but the smell of
toxic gas fumes was beginning to seep into the thin air.
        The Doctor and Jamie were clutching their ears in agony. They
were trapped inside the lift which stubbornly refused to ascend,
leaving the bubbling white foam easy access to them as it surged
over the top of. the inspection ledge just a short distance from the lift
itself.
        Jamie had to shout to be heard. 'Why don't they operate the
lift!'
        'I don't know!' yelled the Doctor. 'But we can't wait much
longer!'
        Jamie tried calling out as loud as he could. 'Victoria! Hey! All
of you up there - help!' His voice only seemed to provoke the alien
sounds into an even greater frenzy.
        'It's no good, Jamie!' yelled the Doctor. 'They can't hear us!'
        Jamie was suddenly chilled with terror. 'Doctor - look!'
        His eyes were rivetted towards something just beneath them in
the shaft area. Through the dim pool of light that was beaming down
from the surface, they could just see the silhouette of a huge
shapeless form rising up from the foam. It was the Weed Creature,
writhing, wriggling, squealing, its throbbing tendrils stretching out in
every direction.
        'Let's get out of here, Jamie - quick!' The Doctor raised the
safety rail, and stepped out of the lift. But Jamie didn't follow him.
His eyes were transfixed on the towering, ghostly apparition in the
foam. He was too numb to move. 'Jamie!' The Doctor yelled at the
top of' his voice, and shook Jamie hard by the shoulders.
        Jamie shivered, as though waking from a nightmare. 'Doctor!
W-what is it?'
         The Doctor grabbed hold of him, and dragged him out of the
lift. 'It's all right, Jamie! Just follow me - and stay awake!'
         The Doctor made straight for the steel emergency ladder that
ran up the side of the wall to the surface. 'Keep right behind me!' he
yelled to Jamie. 'And whatever you do, don't lose your
concentration!'
         Jamie did as he was told, and followed the Doctor up the
ladder. As soon as they moved, the Weed Creature squealed and
hissed aloud in anger. Then its colony of small seaweed clumps
began popping to the surface of' the foam.
         'Doctor!' The toxic gas fumes were beginning to affect Jamie,
and he was coughing and spluttering, on the verge of a sneezing fit.
         'Up the ladder, Jamie! Keep climbing!'
         'Doctor!'
         The first of the weed tendrils was beginning to wind itself
around the base of the ladder.
         Jamie let out a loud sneeze. 'Doctor! I can't... I can't... ' The
weed tendril was just two steps beneath his feet.
         The Doctor shouted back with all the strength at his command.
'Keep climbing, Jamie! Don't look down!'

       Along the Compound corridor leading from the Impeller Area,
one of the blue-painted doors was marked PIPELINE ROOM.
AUTHORISED PERSONNEL ONLY. The door opened. Mr Oak
came out first, then Mr Quill. Mr Oak locked the door behind him,
put the key into his pocket, then exchanged a sly smile with Mr
Quill.
       Like a silent movie comedy double-act, the two men moved
offside by side, and disappeared down the corridor...

      In the Impeller Area, the lift emergency light was still flashing
wildly. But there was no one around to answer it.
      After a moment, a loud sneeze from Jamie was heard echoing
down the shaft.
      'Hold on, Jamie! We're nearly there!' The Doctor's head
popped up over the edge of the shaft. Gasping for breath, he quickly
climbed off the emergency ladder, then turned back to help Jamie.
Are you all right?'
       'Aye, I think so. What a climb!' Jamie's eyes were sore from
the gas fumes, and he could hardly breathe. But he managed to jump
down from the shaft ledge without falling.
       The Doctor peered back down the shaft. 'We're lucky to get out
alive. The weed must be filling the entire shaft!'
       'Aye, and it was moving fast too!' The sooner we get out of this
place, the better!' Jamie started to move towards the door, then
stopped to look around. 'Hey, wait a minute. Where's Victoria!'
       The Doctor was feeling decidedly apprehensive and uneasy.
'No wonder our signal was ignored,' he said suspiciously. 'There's
nobody here.' He turned to the lift controls, and turned off the
flashing emergency light.
       Jamie was more puzzled than ever. 'But Victoria would never
have left us.'
       'You're right, Jamie,' said the Doctor grimly. 'Not unless
somebody persuaded her to!'
       Jamie looked up sharply at the Doctor. The thought that
Victoria might be in danger filled him with horror. His response was
immediate and determined: 'We've got to find her!'

       The Communications Hall was now on full alert. Not only was
the impeller at a standstill, but the gas flow to the South of England
was completely cut off. Even more serious was the fact that both
audio and visual contact between the Refinery and its rigs had broken
down. And now came the news that Megan Jones found absolutely
shattering to even contemplate. 'Foam and weed on all the rigs?' said
the Chairperson incredulously. 'Mr Harris, are you sure you've heard
right?'
       Harris was ashen-faced. 'According to the helicopter pilot,
there is no sign of life at all on any one of the rigs.'
       There was a deathly silence throughout the Hall. All that could
be heard was the intermittent flickering of lights at the Control Cone.
       'I don't believe it. I just - don't believe it!' The Chairperson
could hardly bring herself to speak. She raised herself' out of her
chair, and turned to look up at the illuminated panel on top of the
Cone. 'All this - it's so fantastic!' Then, turning back to Harris she
asked helplessly, 'What can we do?'
       For once in his life, Harris was decisive in his reply. 'Our main
priority is to save the lives of any of the crew who may still be
alive...'
       'What do you suggest?'
       'Give me permission to evacuate them. Then blow every one of
the rigs to pieces - right out of the sea!'
       'What!' The Chairperson's secretary looked as though he was
about to have a fit. 'You're out of your mind, Harris! Have you any
idea how much those rigs cost to install?' He then pleaded directly
with the Chairperson. 'Miss, Jones, you can't agree to such a thing.
Euro-Gas is of vital economic importance to the Government, to the
country. The Minister would never forgive us if we...'
       'To hell with the Minister!' bawled Harris. 'The lives of our
crews are more important than any one of those rigs!'

        Perkins was practically purple in the face with indignation.
'Our duty,' he spluttered pompously, 'is to the British electorate!'
        'Shut up, Perkins!' snapped the Chairperson. Perkins stared at
her in disbelief. He felt like a balloon that had been pricked with a
pin. The Chairperson quickly turned to Harris. In an extraordinary
way, being put on the defensive made her look more attractive. 'Mr
Harris,' she said calmly, 'You ask me to destroy years of hard work,
skill, and Government money...'
        Harris felt no guilt at interrupting her. 'Miss Jones, I am asking
you to destroy this evil that's in the sea. Destroy it - before it's too
late. I implore you - bomb the rigs - now!'
        'No! Never!' A voice was booming out from the other side of
the Hall. Everyone turned to look. The shadow of a man was
standing in the doorway of the Compound exit. It was Robson.
        'Mr Robson!' The Chairperson was visibly shaken as she
caught her first glimpse of Robson. He came rushing across the Hall
towards her, his appearance a shock to everyone. Heavy-eyed, tired,
drawn, and unshaven, the Controller seemed to be on the very brink
of a nervous breakdown.
       'Leave the rigs alone!' Robson's demand was directed as much
to Harris and everyone in the Hall as to the Chairperson herself.
'They're mine I tell you - mine!'
       The Chairperson took a nervous step backwards. She was
staring at Robson in wide-eyed amazement. Was this the man to
whom she had entrusted so much power? The man whose career she
herself had promoted? 'Robson...' she asked falteringly, 'what is it?
What's wrong?'
       Robson turned his back on her, and launched into a wild
discourse to everyone in the Hall who was staring at him. As he
spoke, there was a look of madness in his eyes. 'Can't you see it?' he
yelled, his voice now back to its old harsh, loud tone. 'Can't you see
they're all against me? Those rigs - they're mine! Mine! I built them
with my own sweat and blood. They're my life! They want to destroy
everything because they know it'll destroy me! But I won't let... we
won't allow... we... ' His voice gradually faltered. He seemed puzzled
and uncertain.
       'We, Robson?' asked the Chairperson. 'Who are you referring
to?'
       Robson turned suddenly to look at her. It was as though he was
only just aware that there was someone else in the Hall. 'What?' he
murmured. 'My... I... I don't know...' He began to stagger, then
clutched his hand to his forehead as if in pain.
       'Mr Robson!' The Chief Engineer rushed forward to help
Robson. Harris and two other engineers did likewise.
       'Is he all right?' asked the Chairperson.
       Robson suddenly sprang to life again, and shrugged off the
help he was being given. 'Of course I'm all right...' Everyone became
aware of the change in his voice. It had resumed its soft, almost
inaudible tone. For a brief moment he stood quite still, looking
around him from face to face in disorientated bewilderment. 'I'm
sorry,' he mumbled breathlessly, 'I don't know what I...' Without
another word, he broke free from the group around him, and rushed
out of the Hall. Everyone watched him go in shocked disbelief.
       'Mr Robson!' called the Chairperson.
       Harris said, 'Let him go. The strain must have affected his
mind.'
       'It's not the strain, I can assure you.' This time it was the
Doctor's voice. He was approaching from the Impeller Area.
       The Chairperson glared at the stranger. 'And who the devil are
you?'
       Harris turned with a start. 'Doctor! I'd almost forgotten. What
about van Lutyens? Did you find him?'
       Even before Harris had finished asking the question, the
Doctor was shaking his head sadly. This was yet another shock
which Harris found hard to accept. He swallowed hard and asked,
'Have you any idea what happened?'
       'Unfortunately, yes, I have. Jamie and I very nearly suffered
the same fate. The whole of the bottom of that shaft is filled with
weed and foam.'
       There was a shock wave of horror throughout the Hall. 'What's
this all about?' asked the Chairperson impatiently. 'What's happened
to Mr van Lutyens?'
       The Doctor shrugged his shoulders.
       'And what about Mr Robson?'
       The Doctor hesitated before answering. 'Mr Robson, I fear,' he
said gravely, 'is being controlled by some kind of mental force which
emanates from this weed.'
       Each face around the hall showed the same expression: fear
and horror.
       After a moment's stunned silence, the Chairperson spoke. 'This
is preposterous! You expect me to believe such an incredible
suggestion?'
       Harris brushed the usual lock of hair from his eye. 'That's what
we've said so far about everything the Doctor has told us. But each
time he's been proved right.' He turned pointedly to the Chairperson.
'I think it's about time we started believing him.'
       The Chairperson hesitated, uncertain what to do. Then she sat
down in her chair again, took a deep breath, and said, 'Very well. The
least I can do is to listen.'

      'Victoria! Victoria, where are you?'
      Jamie's frantic calls echoed throughout the Refinery. He was
desperate to find Victoria before any harm came to her. Jamie knew
that something terrible must have happened to her, for nothing in the
world would have persuaded Victoria to abandon the Doctor and
himself at a time when their lives were at risk. Time and time again
he kept asking himself how Victoria could have disappeared from the
impeller area without anyone knowing.
       'Victoria!' he called again. 'Can you hear me...?'
       Jamie eventually found himself in a dimly lit corridor which
led to the Impeller Area at the far end. It wasn't surprising that he
missed seeing the corridor when he first started searching for
Victoria, for most of the rooms and corridors in the Refinery looked
identical.
       Half-way down the corridor he stopped at a blue-painted door
which was marked, PIPELINE ROOM. AUTHORISED
PERSONNEL ONLY. He banged on the door and called, 'Victoria!
Are you in there?' No reply. He tried the door handle. Locked. There
was a small glass panel in the door. He peered through. He gasped
with horror at what he could sec inside.
       'Victoria!'
       Inside the pipeline room, Victoria was lying spread-eagled on
the steps of the platform in front of the transparent section of the
pipeline. She looked as though she was dead.
       Jamie went beserk, tried to break open the door by throwing
himself against it. The door wouldn't budge. He quickly looked
around to see what he could use to force it open. But the corridor was
quite bare except for a pile of metal boxes. Then he noticed a
ventilator grille just above the door. Dragging some of the metal
boxes over to the door to make a platform, he clambered up on to
them and started to heave at the grille.

       In the Communications Hall, everyone was standing around in
awed silence, listening to the Doctor. The Chairperson clearly found
the Doctor's theories almost too wildly incredible to believe. Tapping
her fingers unconsciously on the side of her chair she asked, 'You're
trying to tell me that this seaweed - or whatever it is - is a living
organism, capable of exercising some sort of telepathic control over
human life?'
       The Doctor was firm in his reply: 'Yes!'
       'But seaweed is a vegetable matter. Everybody knows that.'
       The Doctor started to pace up and down. 'This is a struggle for
power, Miss Jones - matter over mind. I'm convinced that these
people - Mrs Harris, Chief Robson, and Mr van Lutyens - have all
been overcome by this struggle.' He stopped, and turned. 'And
goodness knows how many more.'
       Harris was completely bewildered. 'But where does the weed
get this super-intelligence from, Doctor?'
       'From the human brain. The weed is a parasite.'
       The full implication of what the Doctor was saying suddenly
showed in Harris's tense reaction. 'You mean... these creatures have
taken over... human beings?'
       The Doctor shook his head gravely. 'I don't know. But they're
certainly instruments of the weed colony.'
       Everyone suddenly turned with a dramatic start as a red
flashing light began to buzz on the illuminated panel above the Cone.
       Price called urgently from his seat at the Cone. 'Mr Harris!
Control Rig!'
       Harris rushed to the Cone, where the face of Chief Baxter at
the Control Rig immediately appeared on the main television monitor
screen. 'Chief!' he yelled. 'Where the hell have you been? We've been
trying to contact you for the past five hours!'
       Baxter was in a terrified state, almost hysterical. As he spoke,
he was continually looking all around him. 'Mr Harris!' he spluttered,
his face pouring with sweat. 'For God's sake! They're... all around
us!'
       Harris shared a stunned glance with the Chairperson. 'What are
you talking about, Chief? What's going on out there?' The Hall was
suddenly shattered by the piercing sound of crewmen screaming on
the monitor, somewhere near the Chief.
       Baxter struggled to speak, but the picture was beginning to
vibrate. 'Those things... the place is alive with them... they're
everywhere... we can't hold on - ' He was interrupted by even more
terrifying screams, which chilled the blood of everyone watching the
monitor screen. Baxter stared straight into the camera that was
gradually going out of focus. He was desperate. 'Get us out of here!
Somebody get us out of - '
       Everyone in the Hall watched the monitor screen in helpless
shock and horror. Chief Baxter was screaming out hysterically as a
sudden upsurge of white bubbling foam started to engulf him.
       'Baxter!' Harris shouted at the monitor screen. 'Baxter! Can
you hear me?'
       Within seconds it was all over. The picture on the screen
disappeared, and was replaced by distorted lines and electrical
interference.
       'Feed Headquarters calling Control Rig. Feed Head-quarters
calling Control Rig. Are you receiving me please? Over!' Price was
operating every switch available to regain contact with Baxter. He
called again. 'Control Rig. Come in please. Over!'
       The monitor screen remained defiantly unresponsive.
       Price turned from the Cone, thoroughly defeated. 'We've lost
contact.'
       There was a hushed, stunned silence throughout the Hall. The
Chairperson cupped her face in her hands:

       The metal ventilator grille above the pipeline room door
crashed to the floor with a loud clang. Within a few moments, Jamie
had eased himself through the grille opening, falling with a thud to
the floor on the other side.
       He quickly picked himself up, and rushed across to where
Victoria was lying spread-eagled in front of the transparent section of
the pipeline tube. He stooped down in a desperate effort to revive
her. 'Victoria!' he called anxiously. 'Victoria, can you hear me?'
       There was no response from Victoria. Her face and body
remained quite motionless.
       Thinking that Victoria was dead, Jamie became very
distressed. Memories instantly flooded through his mind. Memories
of all the good times he'd had with Victoria, of the many adventures
they had shared with the Doctor. It was a pathetic, endearing sight to
see the sturdy Highland lad from eighteenth-century Scotland
kneeling beside the lifeless body of the young Victorian girl who had
been his close companion for so long. Did it really have to end like
this, he wondered, after all they had been through together? Jamie
drew closer to Victoria. He talked gently to her, rubbed her hand, and
stroked her forehead. It was his own simple way of trying to inject
life back into her. 'Oh Victoria,' he whispered, his voice cracking
with emotion, 'you can't be... you just can't be...'
       What he hadn't noticed was that Victoria's eyes were flickering
half-open.
       Jamie swallowed hard. He felt there was a lump in his throat
the size of an apple. 'If anything's happened to you, I... I don't know
what I'd do...'
       'Why, Jamie, I didn't know you cared...'
       Jamie sat back with a start. 'Victoria Waterfield!' He quickly
brushed the suggestion of a tear from his eye. 'You tricked me! That's
not fair!'
       Victoria sat up, still a little dazed. 'I did not! I was
unconscious!'
       'What are you doing here?' scolded Jamie. 'What happened?'
       Victoria cleared her throat, which felt very dry. 'It was those
two engineers.'
       'What engineers?'
       'You know who I mean.' Victoria used her hands to mime a
description of Mr Oak and Mr Quill. 'The short man and... the tall,
thin one.'
       Jamie suddenly recalled the identical white jackets and caps.
'Oh yes. That weird pair that sent us down in the lift.'
       'I don't remember. I just passed out.'
       'Aye, well just wait 'til I get my hands on them! It must have
been their fault that the Doctor and me very nearly got... well, never
mind that now. At least no harm's come to you.'
       Victoria was now sitting up, resting her chin on her hands. She
looked thoroughly depressed. 'Oh Jamie,' she sighed, 'why are we
always getting into trouble like this? Everywhere we go it's always
the same.'
       Jamie looked concerned. 'How d'you mean?'
       'I don't know,' said Victoria, staring aimlessly at the floor. 'I'm
just fed up, that's all. I'm tired of one crisis on top of another. I just
want... well, some peace and quiet.'
       Jamie's face crumpled. He felt quite hurt. 'But aren't you happy
with the Doctor and me?'
      'Yes, but... oh, never mind. I suppose I'm just...' Victoria
stopped speaking abruptly, and looked up with a start.
      'What's the matter?'
      'Listen!' Victoria looked up towards the ceiling, then all
around.
      Jamie's head was rigid, but his eyes were darting all over the
room. 'What is it?'
      The girl's voice became a strangulated whisper. 'Listen! Can't
you hear it?'
      Both of them sat absolutely still, hardly daring to move a
muscle. It was the faint approach of the heartbeat sound. This time it
came as a metallic echo.
      'Where's it coming from?' whispered Jamie tensely.
      Even as he spoke, the alien sound exploded into a deafening
roar.
      Jamie and Victoria sprang to their feet. 'Look!' yelled Jamie.
Both turned, and squirmed in horror at what they saw behind them.
      The transparent section of the huge pipeline tube was crawling
with clumps of pulsating seaweed, all wriggling in a mass of oozing
white foam.

       In the Control Hall, the Doctor was pointing up to the
illuminated panel at the top of the Cone. The indicator light was no
longer operating for the Control Rig, and only three rig lights
remained: rigs B, E, and F.
       'Now that the Control Rig has gone,' said the Doctor urgently,
'that leaves us with just one conclusion.' He turned, to direct his
assessment straight to the Chairperson and Harris. 'The Weed is
trying to take over all the rigs, forming itself into a vast colony.'
       The Chairperson frowned. 'With what objective?' she asked.
       'The saturation of the British Isles and in time, perhaps the
entire planet.'
       Perkins spoke. For the first time, sneering disbelief was giving
way to genuine fear. 'Is such a thing possible?' he asked.
       'It is,' replied the Doctor with complete conviction. 'Unless we
can find the nerve centre of the colony and destroy it.'
      The Chairperson exchanged a puzzled glance with Harris.
'How could we possibly do that?' she said. 'It may be anywhere out in
the North Sea.'
      'Precisely,' said the Doctor, sounding a note of warning. 'That's
the problem.'
      'Doctor!'
      Everyone in the Hall turned with a start to see Jamie and
Victoria calling from the door of the Impeller Area. The pipeline!'
yelled Jamie.
      'Please hurry!' Victoria was practically screeching.

       By the time the Doctor and everyone had reached the pipeline
room, the transparent section of the pipeline tube was jammed solid
with the oozing mass of seaweed clumps and white bubbling foam.
       For a few moments, the group just stared in silent horror at the
awesome sight before them. The thumping heartbeat sound was
frenetic, and the Chairperson had to shout to he heard. 'In heaven's
name - what is that?' she spluttered from a safe distance near the
door.
       'The advance guard.' The Doctor moved into the room, his eyes
transfixed on the squirming mass of seaweed tendrils inside the
pipeline tube.
       'I don't understand,' shouted the Chairperson. 'What's
happening?'
       'The first part of the invasion... ' The Doctor moved a few steps
closer towards the pipeline tube.
       'No, Doctor!' Victoria was yelling from the door. 'Don't go any
nearer!'
       On hearing Victoria's voice, the Doctor stopped dead. 'It's
begun!' he said, addressing the warning more to himself than to the
other. He was staring hard at the pipeline tube. 'The battle of the
giants!'
       Inside the pipeline tube, the thumping heartbeat sound was
pounding louder and louder, the white foam was bubbling, and the
seaweed clumps were squealing. And in the middle of it all, the weed
tendrils groped uncontrollably at the transparent walls. They were
determined to find a way out...
                            10
                      The Spy Within
       The Communications Hall was like a mausoleum. There were
no flashing lights on the illuminated panel above the Control Cone,
and every one of the television monitor screens was blank. Amongst
the Communications crew there was a mixture of apathy and fear,
and after the long hours of endless duty, total exhaustion. Everyone
was in a state of high tension, watching and waiting for the weed's
next move.
       At the Control Cone, Price was relentlessly trying to re-
establish contact with the rigs out at sea. Over and over again his
weary voice could be heard echoing throughout the Hall, calling out
to the lifeless two-way monitor screens.
       'Feed Headquarters calling Rig F. Feed Headquarters calling
Rig F. Are you receiving me? Come in please. Over!'
       Anxious moments whilst everyone waited for a response. But
the central monitor screen remained stubbornly silent.
       Chairperson Megan Jones hurried into the Hall from the
impeller Area. Harris, Perkins, the Doctor, Jamie, and Victoria were
with her.
       'Mr Harris sir!' Price called immediately from the Cone. 'I can't
raise any of the rigs.'
       Harris went quickly to the Cone. 'None of them?'
       'Not one, sir. I'll try again.' He turned back to the monitors
again, and repeated his emergency calls. 'Feed Headquarters calling
Rig B. Feed Headquarters calling Rig B. Are you receiving me?
Come in please. Over!'
       Once again, the same dead reaction from both monitor and
illuminated panel. Price turned from the Cone to give Harris a sad
shake of the head.
       'Keep trying man!' insisted Miss Jones in desperation.
Reluctantly, Price turned back to continue repeating his video calls to
the rigs.
       'You're wasting your time, Miss Jones,' said the Doctor. 'By
now those rigs will be part of the weed colony.'
       'I don't care about the rigs,' bawled Harris. 'What's happened to
the men out there?'
       All the Doctor could do was to shake his head slowly,
despondently.
       Harris's frustration suddenly exploded. 'Then we've got to
destroy the rigs! Every one of them!'
       'No!' yelled the Chairperson defiantly. 'Never!'
       The Doctor agreed. 'No, Mr Harris. We daren't do that.'
       'Why not?'
       'Because it would spread this menace over a wide area and
make it almost impossible to attack.'
       'Well, what are we supposed to do?' snapped Harris. 'Just sit
here and wait to be destroyed?'
       'More important, Mr Harris,' said the Doctor, trying to calm
Harris's high state of tension, 'is to know what the Weed is going to
do.'
       There was a moment's pause, then the Chairperson asked,
'What can it do?'
       'Let's think,' suggested the Doctor. He started pacing up and
down, quickly trying to calculate the true extent of the seaweed
menace. 'Now... I suppose the weed was first drawn up through the
drilling rigs?'
       'No,' said Harris. 'Anything that comes up through those bores
would be cleared by the engineers at source. Otherwise it would
block the pumps.'
       'Precisely!' The Doctor stopped pacing, and turned back to
Harris. 'And the engineers who cleared it would probably have come
into physical contact with it. In other words, they'd have touched it in
some way or another?'
       'Yes... I see what you mean.' Harris was beginning to
understand what the Doctor was getting at. 'Those engineers would
have been the first to have come under the direct control of the
weed.'
       The Doctor's mind was now racing. 'Since then, this attack -
and it is an attack - has followed a pattern.'
       The Chairperson asked, 'How d'you mean?'
       'I mean, Miss Jones, that the top priority people in the Euro-
Gas network have been affected first.'
       'If your theory is correct,' estimated the Chairperson, 'this weed
now controls two vital people who know the entire layout and
structure of the Refinery compound.'
       The Doctor scratched the back of his head, and sighed.
'Unfortunately, that is true.'
       After thinking carefully for a brief moment, the Chairperson
turned quickly to Harris and said urgently, 'Robson was here not so
very long ago. We must find him and prevent the weed from using
him - for his own sake as well as ours!'
       Harris agreed and went straight to Price at the Control Cone.
'Get Security to search the entire Compound. 'I want Mr Robson
found and put under armed guard in his cabin.'
       Price nodded, and immediately put a call through to Security.
       Harris returned to the Doctor. 'One thing doesn't fit in with
your theory,' he said, trying to work things out. 'The fact that your
friend Victoria was attacked in the Oxygen Room. She has absolutely
nothing whatever to do with the personnel here.'
       'Yes. That's one thing that's been puzzling me.' The Doctor
considered this carefully for a moment, then continued. 'Victoria
disturbed someone who was attempting to interfere with the oxygen
supply... '
       'Yes. Someone wearing a gas mask.'
       The Doctor reacted sharply. 'Of course! Now if that person was
under the control of the weed then he was wearing a gas mask for
one reason only!'
       'Because to him, pure oxygen would be toxic!'
       The Doctor thumped his fist into his hand excitedly. 'Exactly!'
       Amongst a group of engineers listening nearby were Mr Oak
and Mr Quill, who exchanged a pointed glance with each other.
Without saying a word, both slipped out of the Hall unnoticed.
       Now it was Harris's turn to become excited. The Doctor had
given him the first glimmer of hope. 'Oxygen! That's the key to it all!
We can use it as a weapon against the weed.'
      The Doctor held up his hands to advise caution. 'At the
moment, it's only a theory... '
      For the first time, the Chairperson directed a smile of
confidence towards the Doctor. 'As Mr Harris said before, you've
been right so far, there's no reason why you shouldn't be now.'
      'How nice to be trusted!' replied the Doctor, beaming. 'I only
hope I'm right!'
      The Chairperson's smile quickly faded.

      Mr Oak and Mr Quill waddled down the corridor from the
Communications Hall. They stopped briefly at the door marked,
OXYGEN STORE ROOM, quickly checked the corridor to make sure
no-one could see them, then entered.
      The Oxygen Room was in darkness; Mr Oak and Mr Quill
preferred it that way. First they put on their white gloves, then their
gas masks, which they carried across their shoulders. After nodding
to each other, they made their way to the rows of oxygen cylinders
stacked on the shelves. One by one they turned on the release taps.
      Two sinister white-clad figures moved around in the dark. The
room was filled with the sound of hissing gas...

       Jamie and Victoria were watching the Doctor, who was deep in
thought. They had seen him like this so many times before, eyes
transfixed to the ground, like a general trying to work out the
enemy's next move.
       On the other side of the Communications Hall, Harris was with
Megan Jones and Perkins in the office area. All three were slouched
wearily in chairs, sipping black coffee from thick Company mugs.
Not a word was spoken between them. Secretly, each of them were
hoping that the Doctor would come up with some miracle solution
that would save them all from disaster.
       'Mr Harris sir!' All three turned. Price was calling from the
Control Cone. 'They've found Mr Robson!'
       Harris rose immediately and rushed across. 'Where is he?'
       'In his cabin, sir. Apparently he was just lying on his bunk.
There's a guard outside his door.'
        'Good! Tell Security to keep him there. I'm on my way over
right now!'
        'I want to see him, Harris,' called the Chairperson, as she
hurried across from the office with Perkins.
        'I strongly advise against it, Miss Jones,' warned Harris. 'Mr
Robson is a very ill man.'
        The Chairperson had that stubborn look in her eyes again. 'I
want to see him.'
        'But you've seen him already. It's obvious he's in no fit state to
help us in any way.'
        'Let me be the judge of that, Harris. Mr Robson and I are old
friends. If he knows something, I'm the person he'll confide in.'
        Harris sighed. He knew better than to argue with the woman.
She always used seniority rather than reason to get her own way.
'Very well, Miss Jones. But I warn you, Mr Robson is in an
unpredictable state at the moment. He could be violent.'
        The Chairperson didn't bother to listen to Harris. She was
already on her way out of the Hall. Harris and Perkins followed her
obediently.
        'But why not ask the Minister to request some assistance from
the National Defences?' Perkins suggested, as he trailed behind the
Chairperson along the main Compound corridor.
        'Don't talk rot, man!' snapped the lady dismissively. 'What
exactly do you suppose the armed forces could do?'
        'Well... attack this... this weed stuff, or whatever it is.'
        'How? If we attack the rigs, what about the men out there?'
        'But we don't know there are any men left on the rigs?'
        The Chairperson stopped abruptly and turned on Perkins. He
was getting on her nerves. 'Equally, we don't know that they aren't
still there! They may be prisoners - anything! And even if we do
blow the rigs out of the sea, there's no guarantee that will be the end
of this - this nightmare. For all we know, it could even spread the
menace, just like that Doctor fellow suggested.'
        Perkins twitched uneasily, utterly deafeated.
        Harris quickly interrupted them. 'This way please, Miss Jones.'
        The Chairperson glared contemptuously at Perkins, then
followed Harris into an adjoining corridor.
       An armed Security Guard was on duty outside Robson's cabin.
As Harris, the Chairperson, and Perkins approached, he straightened
up a little and tried to look efficient.
       Harris was worried. 'Look, Miss Jones. I think it would be far
safer if you let me or Mr Perkins come in with you.'
       The Chairperson waved her hand dismissively. 'Stop fussing,
man! I shall be perfectly all right.'
       Harris hesitated, still uncertain. Then he nodded to the Guard,
who unlocked the door. Without another word, the Chairperson
entered Robson's cabin.
       Robson was lying on his bunk, eyes staring aimlessly at the
ceiling. His face was white, gaunt, and lined, and his hair was even
more streaked with white than when Harris had first noticed it on the
beach.
       The Chairperson came in, and closed the door behind her. She
turned to look at Robson, but hesitated before going across to him.
'Robson,' she called quietly. No reply. She tried again. 'Robson.' Still
no reply, not even a flicker of recognition. Slowly, cautiously, she
moved towards the bunk and looked down at Robson. She was
shocked by his appearance.
       'John,' she called in a gentle whisper. 'John, can you hear me?'
       After a moment's pause, Robson slowly turned his head
towards her. There was a faint glimmer of recognition in his eyes.
His face was streaked with perspiration, and it was obvious that he
was under considerable mental strain.
       'It's all right, John. It's me - Megan. Megan Jones.'
       Robson just stared aimlessly at her. There was no sign of life
in his eyes.
       'We want to try and help you.'
       'Help...?' Robson struggled to speak. But his voice was
bewildered, barely audible.
       Megan drew closer. 'Tell me what happened, John...'
       Robson shook his head.
       'Try, John! We can't help you unless you try!'
       There was panic in Robson's eyes. And desperation. 'Nobody...
nobody can help...'
       'We can help you, John, but only if you let us. Whatever it is
that's affecting you, you've got to fight it!'
       'No!' Robson suddenly sat bolt upright. His eyes began to dart
frantically around the room in every direction.
       Megan grabbed him firmly by the shoulders. She tried to be
the Chairperson with him again, to bring him back to reality. 'Now
listen to me, Robson!' she snapped, 'just remember that I am the one
who put you in charge of this Refinery, and I can just as easily send
you right back to the rigs! Do you want that, Robson? Do you?' She
watched him in horrified disbelief as he started to breathe quickly
and heavily. But her only feeble response was to shake him by his
shoulders and bawl, 'Pull yourself together man!'
       Robson's frantic breathing stopped suddenly, and his eyes
glazed over. Megan felt as though she was holding on to a marble
statue. 'What is it, John?' she asked tensely. 'Tell me!'
       It seemed like hours before Robson's reply. He slowly turned
and stared at her, his mind battling with the telepathic control of the
weed. 'Meg-an... ' His mouth was struggling to form the words. 'I...
I...' He stopped dead. The sound was beginning to take over. The
thumping, heartbeat sound, pulverising his mind into submission. He
clutched his ears in agony and yelled out, 'Help me!'
       Megan held on to his shoulders and gradually eased him back
onto the pillow. 'Easy now, John... easy...'
       Robson's agonising shout brought Harris bursting into the
room. 'Miss Jones! Are you all right?'
       Megan didn't reply. She was trying to comfort Robson, who
was quiet now, his eyes once again staring aimlessly. 'Robson,' she
whispered gently. 'John, can you hear me?'
       Robson remained absolutely still. There was not even a flicker
from him now, no response or sign of recognition. Megan watched
him for a moment or so, then stood up. She turned, and shook her
head in despair at Harris and Perkins, who were standing in the
doorway. 'It's as if he were in a trance or something - hypnotised. I
thought for a moment he was going to be rational, but...'
       Harris said, 'We'd better let him rest.'
      Megan nodded in agreement, and after taking a last worried
look back to Robson in his bunk, she returned to the corridor with
Harris and Perkins.
      Harris closed the cabin door, and the Security Guard moved
back into position.
      Megan was clearly distressed. 'Isn't there anything we can do
for him, Harris?'
      Harris shook his head. 'The Doctor couldn't help my wife.
We're up against something we know nothing about.'
      Megan turned to look at him, and straightened up. She was the
Chairperson again. There was a new surge of determination in her.
'Then the only thing that will help any of us - as far as I can see - is to
destroy that weed.' Without saying another word, she marched off
down the corridor in the direction of the Control Hall.
      Harris and Perkins exchanged a brief look of surprise, then
followed her.

       In the Control Hall, Jamie and Victoria were watching the
Doctor, who was deep in thought, sitting on the steps leading up to
the pipeline inspection area. Every so often he would mumble
something under his breath, a sure sign that he was trying to work
out some kind of logical plan.
       'He's really worried now,' said Jamie anxiously. 'He's
beginning to give me the willies!'
       Victoria crossed her arms and sighed despondently. 'Yes. I just
wish we could go back to the TARDIS and get away from all this
trouble.'
       'Och, we couldna' do that! The Doctor would never leave all
these people, not when they're facing up to so much danger...'
       'Oh I know, I know!' snapped Victoria irritably.
       Jamie turned to look at her, aware that she was in a bad mood
again. 'You don't have to bite my head off, y'know!'
       Victoria threw him a tetchy look without replying.
       'The Doctor's got enough trouble on his hands trying to find
out what's going on round here. You know, it's odd. He says there
definitely is an obvious answer to this weed stuff.'
       'Answer? What d'you mean?'
        'You know, some way of fighting it.'
        'It can't be that obvious,' said Victoria dismissively, 'otherwise
he'd have thought of it!'
        The Chairperson entered the Hall with Harris and Perkins.
They went straight to the Doctor.
        'Well, Doctor, have you thought of any means by which we
can attack this... weed?' The Chairperson had a way of sounding
aggressive without actually being so.
        The Doctor looked up from his reverie. 'Hmm? Oh... no, Miss
Jones. Not yet, I'm afraid.'
        'What about the weed? What do you think it will do next?'
        The Doctor raised himself up from the step he was sitting on. 'I
think it has little alternative but to attack us... right here!'
        Once again everyone in the Hall turned to look at the Doctor.
        'Here?' spluttered Harris. 'In the Refinery?'
        'Yes!' The Doctor was quite firm in his reply.
        'But what could make you think such a thing?' This was the
first time Perkins had contributed anything to the discussion.
        The Doctor put his hands behind his back and looked around
the vast Control Hall. 'This Refinery is the pivot of the gas
distribution network. If the weed is to survive and expand, it has to
gain control right here! Our only hope is to find the nerve-centre of
the weed colony - and destroy it.'
        Everyone in the Hall exchanged glances with each other in
stunned silence. Surprisingly, it was Perkins who asked the crucial
question. 'But where is this nerve centre?'
        'We don't know.' The Doctor was more grave-faced than either
Jamie or Victoria could remember. 'That's just one of the problems.'
        'And we're not sure yet quite how to destroy it, are we?' Harris
brushed his usual troublesome lock of hair from his eye.
        'No,' said the Doctor falteringly, 'but... there's something at the
back of my mind which...'
        'What about the oxygen?' suggested Harris.
        The Doctor looked up sharply. 'The oxygen? Yes. It's a
possibility.'
      'Right!' said the Chairperson, quick to assert her authority.
Turning to Harris she bawled, 'Put the Oxygen Supply Room under
guard - immediately!'

      Robson was lying on his bunk where Megan Jones had left
him. For once, his eyes were closed, and he was fast asleep.
      Suddenly, his eyes sprang open and immediately focussed on
the ventilator grille in the ceiling directly above his head. For several
moments he kept absolutely still. Either he wouldn't move, or he
couldn't.
      To Robson, the grille appeared as a vast dark cavern.
Something was there looking clown at him, watching, waiting...
      The thumping heartbeat sound was very faint. But as it grew in
intensity, the expression on Robson's face was clear and decisive. He
was receiving instructions.

       In the corridor outside Robson's cabin, the armed guard, tired
from long hours on duty, drooped with fatigue. Behind him, Robson's
glazed, staring eyes watched him through the perspex panel in the
door.
       The door slowly opened, and in one swift moment, Robson's
hand slammed over the guard's mouth. The hand was covered with a
hair-like weed formation. The guard struggled, but Robson suddenly
opened his mouth wide to emit a loud, hissing lethal gas. The guard's
eyes gradually glazed over, and he slumped to the ground
unconscious.
       Robson stood quite motionless for a moment, staring down at
the guard's lifeless body. Gradually the thumping heartbeat sound
began to enter the dark caverns of his brain. His eyes flicked up
sharply. He was listening, taking instructions again. In a moment, he
was gone.

      At the Control Cone, Harris was reacting with incredulity at
the news Price had just passed to him. 'The whole of the Oxygen
Store?'
      'I'm afraid so, sir,' replied Price. 'There are no reserves left at
all.'
       Harris took a deep breath and turned to the Doctor. 'They seem
to be one step ahead of us all the time.'
       'Exactly as I thought,' said the Doctor, turning to look with
deep suspicion at the group gathered around the Cone. 'Robson is not
the only one here to be controlled by the weed colony.'
       The Chairperson fumbled nervously with the string of pearls
hanging around her neck. 'You mean, there's some kind of a spy
amongst us?'
       'Yes.' The Doctor was adamant. 'And maybe more than one of
them.'
       There was a tense pause. Nobody hardly dared to breathe.
Harris spluttered, 'But... how do we find out who they are?'
       The Doctor shrugged his shoulders. 'That's the difficulty.'
       Everyone in the Hall was now casting an uneasy glance at the
person standing next to them. Megan Jones, the Doctor, Perkins,
Harris, Jamie, the Chief Engineer, Victoria, Price, the
Communications crewmen - all of them studied each other with the
deepest suspicion. Victoria in particular did a double-take. She was
alarmed to catch a glimpse of Mr Oak and Mr Quill hiding amongst a
group of engineers on the other side of the Hall.
       'We must have a personnel check,' called Harris urgently.
'Everybody in the Compound!'
       Victoria quickly turned to Jamie to draw his attention to Mr
Oak and Mr Quill. But by the time Jamie looked up, the indefatigable
duo had gone.

      Mr Oak and Mr Quill hurried down the corridor from the
Control Hall. They couldn't run because they didn't know how to.
Their legs were clearly not used to such strenuous activity.
      'Hey - you two!' Jamie was yelling from the other end of the
corridor. Victoria was with him.
      Mr Oak and Mr Quill turned to look, then hurried on. Jamie
rushed after them, chasing them into an adjoining corridor. 'You'll
not get away from me - you Sassenachs!'
      Yelling out his deafening clan war cry, Jamie hurled himself at
Mr Quill, dragging him down into a heap on the floor.
       Victoria called from a safe distance along the corridor, 'Jamie!
Be careful!'
       In the pandemonium that followed, Mr Oak stopped
momentarily, then hurried off, leaving Mr Quill locked in a wrestling
tussle with Jamie on the floor. This continued for several minutes
until Jamie finally managed to bend Mr Quill's arm in a vice-like grip
behind his back. 'Got you!' Jamie proclaimed triumphantly. But he
was horrified to notice that Mr Quill's arm was covered in a hair-like
weed formation. In that one moment of distraction, Mr Quill opened
his mouth wide, and emitted the loud hissing sound of gas. Jamie
took the full force of the fumes, released his grip on Mr Quill's arm,
and fell back. Mr Quill seized his opportunity, and tried to make a
quick escape. But Jamie grabbed hold of Mr Quill's white jacket,
swung him round, and threw a punch at him. All this provoked a
piercing scream from Victoria. Mr Quill's entire body seemed to
quiver. He clutched his head in agony, and fell to a heap on the floor.
       'Jamie!' The Doctor called from the other end of the corridor.
Harris was with him.
       Jamie recovered himself, wiped his eyes free of the lethal gas
fumes, and stood up. 'Well, I took care of him all right,' he said
proudly as the Doctor and Harris approached.
       The Doctor quickly inspected the slumped and lifeless body of
Mr Quill, as Jamie admired his fist which had apparently just
numbed Mr Quill. 'There's a wee bit of power in a McCrimmon
punch.'
       'I'm sorry to disillusion you, Jamie,' said the Doctor, examining
Mr Quill's prostrate body, 'but I don't think it was the punch that did
it.'
       Even as the Doctor was talking, a remarkable physical
transformation was taking place in Mr Quill. Jamie and the Doctor
watched in amazement as the fern-like fronds on his hands gradually
retracted. Whilst this was happening, the Doctor turned around to
give a curious look at Victoria.
       'Mr Harris!'
       Harris turned with a start to see the Chief Engineer calling
from the other end of the corridor.
       'You'd better come, sir. The pipeline room!'
       The Doctor, Jamie, and Harris reached the pipeline room at
exactly the same time as the Chairperson and Perkins. What they
found there absolutely shattered them. The transparent section of the
pipeline tube was jammed tight with weed clumps and bubbling
white foam. And behind it, the thumping, pulsating sound of the
alien heartbeat.
       'What's happened to it, Doctor?' asked Jamie incredulously.
       'It's beginning to expand, the same as it did in the TARDIS.'
The Doctor moved a few cautious steps towards the pipeline tube. He
was absolutely fascinated with the weed's capacity to reproduce and
multiply so much.
       Jamie called from a safe distance. 'Is there no way to stop it?'
       The Doctor shook his head gravely. 'No. I should have realised
this was going to happen.'
       Victoria would not enter the room. The squealing mass of
weed terrified her, and she was content to watch from the doorway
behind the group. What she didn't know was that someone was
creeping up behind her in the shadows. Within a few seconds, a
weed-covered hand smothered her mouth, and she was dragged out
of the room without a sound.
       Although the thumping heartbeat sound in the pipeline was
muffled, the Chairperson had to raise her voice to be heard. 'Doctor,
are you telling us that this horrible stuff - is growing all the time?'
       'I'm afraid so,' said the Doctor gloomily. 'In my opinion this is
just the start.'
       'Mr Harris please! Mr Harris please!' Price's voice was
booming out on the tannoy system. 'Chief Robson's broken out of his
cabin. He's attacked his Security Guard!'
       'What!' Harris yelled back at the tannoy speaker on the wall.
'How the devil did...'
       'Doctor - look!' Jamie was pointing in horror towards the
pipeline tube. The transparent perspex section of the tube had
suddenly fractured with a loud crack, right down the centre. This was
immediately followed by a surge of white foam, which literally
exploded out of the tube onto some of the engineers who were
gathered in a group nearby. And behind it, the advance guard of
seaweed clumps clearing the way for the quivering tendrils of the
giant Weed Creature itself.
       'Everybody out! Fast as you can!' The Doctor's shouts now had
to compete with the deafening squeals and thumping heartbeat
sounds, now released from the confines of the pipeline tube.
       The room cleared in double-quick time. But the Chairperson
was paralysed with fear, her eyes transfixed on the awesome scene
before her, the snake-like tendrils of the Weed Creature stretching
out across the room towards her. Everyone was yelling and shouting
as they rushed out of the room splattered with foam, and it was left to
the Doctor to grab hold of the Chairperson's shoulders and hoist her
out of the creature's reach.
       Jamie was last to leave. 'Victoria! Where's Victoria?' Jamie's
frantic yells seemed to incite the weed and foam into an onslaught of
squealing sounds, so he quickly followed the Doctor and Megan
Jones out into the Impeller Area, making quite sure the door was
firmly closed behind him.
       'Where's Victoria?' Jamie asked again anxiously. He and the
Doctor looked all around the Area, but Victoria was nowhere to be
seen.
       'Are you sure she didn't leave with the others?' asked the
Doctor.
       Jamie had no time to reply. The tannoy speakers were blaring
out another emergency message: 'RED ALERT! RED ALERT!
DOORS CLOSING!'
       The Chairperson made a quick escape back into the Control
Hall, leaving the Doctor and Jamie to continue the search for
Victoria in the Impeller Area. 'It's no use,' said the Doctor. 'She's not
here!'
       The thumping heartbeat sounds were beginning to echo up
from the impeller shaft.
       'Let's get out of here!' yelled Jamie. He and the Doctor made a
dash for the doors of the Control Hall. But they were locked.
       'Too late!' called the Doctor. He turned, to see a red light
flashing above the doors leading to the Compound corridor. 'They're
closing too! This way! Hurry!'
       They retreated from the Impeller Area just in time. The whole
place was filling up with lethal gas fumes.
       Not so far away, another red alarm light was flashing. This
time it was above a door leading to the sea front. Robson appeared in
the corridor leading to the exit. He was carrying the unconscious
Victoria across his shoulder. As he reached the exit, a klaxon horn
suddenly screeched out on the wall above him. Robson wasted no
time. Within a few seconds he was gone, taking his hostage with
him.
       The sound of klaxon horns was now echoing throughout the
Refinery. Emergency procedures were in operation as crewmen
rushed in and out of the Control Hall on full alert. The whole place
was buzzing with frenzied activity.
       'Pipeline Room!' Harris was yelling to two engineers from the
steps leading up to the inspection area. 'Seal it off! Quick as you can!'
The two men raced out of the Hall, leaving Harris to yell at another
engineer, this time at one of the control gauges. 'Close all pipelines -
in and out!' The engineer looked at him in utter bewilderment. 'Come
on, man!' Harris had never spoken so aggressively to anyone in his
whole life. 'What the hell are you waiting fir?' The engineer
immediately obeyed, quickly turning pressure wheels, levers, and
other instruments on the control panel.
       Meanwhile, the Chairperson went to Price at the Control Cone.
'Any news of Robson?' she asked.
       'Not yet, madam. We've got a full alert out on him.'
       The Chairperson was not satisfied. 'Get on to Security!' she
demanded. 'Tell them to search everywhere. Whatever happens - they
must find Chief Robson!'

       Somewhere along a snow-covered cliff top near the Refinery, a
Minimoke bicycle car was racing much too fast on the icy road. At
the wheel was the deranged figure of Robson, with Victoria slumped
unconscious on the seat behind him.
       The Minimoke came to a halt in a clearing at the top of the
cliff. Robson got out, dragged Victoria from the back seat, and threw
her across his shoulder. He turned, and quickly made his way to
another vehicle that was waiting for him.
It was a helicopter.
                           11
                    The Nerve Centre
        The central video monitor at the Control Cone suddenly
buzzed with activity. Price swung round on his seat and called out
across the Hall excitedly, 'Mr Harris!'
        Harris rushed across from the office area immediately, 'What
have you got?'
        'It's Chief Robson, sir! He's just taking off.'
        'Taking off?' Harris looked at the video monitor. One of the
Company's two-seater British Aerospace helicopters was just rising
up from the chopper pad at the top of the cliffs. As it quickly gained
height, a great white spray of snow rose with it from the down
draught.
        Harris watched the screen in despair for a moment or so, then
growled, 'Keep a close track on that chopper. Don't let it out of your
sight!'

      In the Compound corridor just outside the Control Hall, Jamie
found himself caught up in the chaos as engineers rushed up and
down in general emergency. The weed enemy had penetraded the
very heart of the Euro-Gas network, and from now on it was every
man for himself.
      'Victoria?' Jamie was desperately stopping every engineer who
bumped into him. 'Have you seen Victoria!' Each time the answer
was the same, an impatient shaking of the head followed by a mad
dash to get out of the place. Jamie was practically beside himself,
when the Doctor suddenly appeared at the end of the corridor.
'Doctor! Have you found her?'
      'She's gone!' said the Doctor breathlessly, as he rushed forward
to meet Jamie. 'I've been right the way round.'
      'But she was standing right beside us.'
      'Doctor!' Harris was calling from the door of the Control Hall.
'Robson's trying to get away in one of the Company helicopters.'
        'Blast!' The Doctor moved briskly towards the Control Hall. 'I
should have known!'
        Harris stopped him briefly at the door. 'I'm afraid he's got your
young girl with him.'
        The Doctor looked up sharply in horror. Then he turned to
Jamie.
        'Oh no!' The young Highland warrior looked utterly crushed.
        By the time the Doctor, Jamie, and Harris reached the video
monitor at the Control Cone, Robson's blue and white helicopter
showing the legend EURO-GAS in huge black letters, was soaring off
into the distance out to sea.
        A small group, including the Chairperson and Perkins,
gathered around the Cone. 'Is there any way of speaking to Robson
from here?' the Doctor asked Harris.
        Harris turned to Price at the Control panel. 'Switch to RT.'
Price flicked a switch and a green transmitting light appeared above
the video monitor. Harris turned back to the Doctor, and said, 'Go
ahead.'
        The Doctor spoke directly to the video monitor. 'Robson, are
you there? Robson, can you hear me?'
        At the helicopter controls, Robson jumped with a start as he
suddenly heard the Doctor's voice booming out through the RT unit.
        'Robson! This is the Doctor. Listen to me. Please listen! Come
back to the Refinery, Robson. Do you hear me? Come back!'
        The Doctor's distorted voice was clearly causing Robson a
great deal of pain. His face crumpled up, and he clutched one of his
cars in agony.
        The Doctor tried again. 'Robson! Don't you understand?
They're trying to control you. They want to use you as a weapon
against us. Resist them, Robson! You are part of the human race.
You are one of us. Do you hear me, Robson. You are one of us...'
        Robson grabbed the RT microphone and flicked a switch. But
when he tried to speak, the words would just not form in his mouth.
'L-l-l-listen...' he cluttered. 'L-l-l-listen - to - me...'
        There was a deadly silence throughout the Control Hall as
everyone listened to the faint, barely audible, almost robotic voice of
Robson, filtering through static from the central video monitor.
       'The girl... I have the girl... my prisoner... my hostage...'
       The Chairperson suddenly bellowed at the monitor. 'Robson!
This is Megan! Don't be a fool, man...!'
       'Quite please!' the Doctor demanded angrily. 'Let him finish!'
       Robson continued. 'The girl you want her to live... you must
come... you must come over - to us...' His voice gradually trailed
away, and finally disappeared.
       'Robson!' called the Doctor. 'Robson, can you hear me?'
       Price turned from the Control panel. 'We've lost him, sir. He
must have switched off.'
       'What did he mean?' asked the Chairperson. 'Come over to us?'
       'Exactly what he said,' replied the Doctor tersely.
       Harris looked anxiously at the Doctor. 'You mean - they want
you?'
       The Doctor smiled knowingly. 'Oh yes. They obviously realise
I am a threat to them.'
       'But you won't go - surely?'
       Everyone was watching the Doctor tensely, waiting for his
reply.
       'Of course I shall go!'
       There were shocked murmurs all around the Hall. Some of
them were of consternation, others were of admiration.
       The Chairperson had to raise her voice to be heard above the
din. 'But we need you here. You're our only hope!'
       'If I stay here,' the Doctor assured her, 'that hope will be very
slim indeed.'
       Now Jamie stepped forward. 'Doctor, don't let that madman
take Victoria. We've got to stop him!'
       'You two are the mad ones if you go chasing after Robson,'
insisted the Chairperson. 'You can see for yourself, he's a danger to
everyone.'
       The Doctor appreciated the Chairperson's sudden concern, but
his mind was made up. 'No, Jamie's right,' he said. 'We've got to go
after him.'
       'There's a Company helicopter,' said Harris. 'We'll have a pilot
waiting for you.'
      'Thank you,' smiled the Doctor, as he and Jamie made their
way to the Compound exit door. But they stopped abruptly as they
heard the Chairperson shouting at Harris across the Hall.
      'Harris! If we let this man go now, what hope have we?'
      The Doctor answered her. 'The only hope you have, madam, is
that my hunch is proved correct.'
      'Hunch?'
      'That Mr Robson will lead us straight to the nerve centre of the
weed colony.'

       Robson's blue and white-coloured helicopter was almost
invisible against the grim, grey winter sky. But the cracking sound of
the chopper's blades were sharp enough to disperse any stray seagull
that had been left behind by the mass migration of seabirds from the
eastern seaboard of the English coast.
       At the controls of the helicopter, Robson was quite oblivious to
what was happening to him. He had become a mere instrument of the
weed's mental control over him. He was no longer capable, or indeed
permitted, to think for himself.
       Down below, the mud-coloured sea was pitted with undulating
swells of white spray and bubbling blobs of foam, soon to become a
slave of the fury from the deep...

        Back on the mainland, another, somewhat larger Company
helicopter was taking off from the chopper pad at the top of the
cliffs. This time the passengers were the Doctor and Jamie, who were
well wrapped up against the cold in Company regulation anoraks.
Flying in a helicopter was a whole new experience for Jamie.
Although in some ways it resembled travel in the TARDIS, he was
particularly fascinated by the rnanoeuverability of the machine,
especially when it skimmed just above the waves.
        Because of the piercing noise created by the helicopter's huge
rotating blades, the Doctor and the pilot had agreed to communicate
with each other by means of sign language - pointing up, pointing
down, and this way, that way, and so on
        After consulting the map, the Doctor still had no idea which
direction they should be making for. In his estimation, the nerve
centre of the weed colony could be just about anywhere, and it was
going to be like searching for a needle in a haystack. At this stage
also, he had no idea that Robson was heading out to sea. So, tapping
the pilot at his side on the arm, the Doctor pointed to a direction
which he chose as the result of a hunch.
       The pilot took the helicopter up to an operational height, then
headed off into a north-easterly direction, straight along the coastline.

      The central video monitor at the Control Cone was relaying
pictures from the Refinery's radar system. Harris, the Chairperson,
and Perkins were absorbed with a small yellow dot on the screen's
tracking diagram, which represented the position of Robson's
helicopter out at sea.
      Price suddenly interrupted them. He had picked up a message
through his earphones. 'Mr Harris, sir! The Doctor is airborne.'
      'Right! Put him through on RT.' Harris waited for Price.to flick
a switch, then talked directly to the video monitor. 'Doctor, this is
Harris. Can you hear me? Over!'
      The Doctor's voice came booming through the tannoy speakers
loud and clear. 'I hear you, Mr Harris. Go ahead please. Over!'
      'Listen to me, Doctor. Can you see Robson yet?'
      'No - not a sign.'
      'Right, now listen carefully.' Harris brushed the lock of hair
from his eye and spoke urgently. 'We've managed to track Robson on
the Radarscope. He's landed on the Control Rig Complex. Can you
hear me? The Control Rig Complex. Over!'
      There was a moment's hesitation, then the Doctor answered in
a very excited voice. 'The Control Rig! Well, well, well. So that's the
nerve centre.'
      The Chairperson was straining to hear the Doctor's reply.
'What did he say? Ask him to repeat.'
      Harris called back to the monitor. 'Say again please, Doctor!
Say again! Over!'
      The Doctor's voice boomed back through the tannoy speakers
immediately. 'I said, we're on our way to the Control Rig. Over and
out!'
        The RT link-up came to an end, and Harris turned from the
monitor with a grave expression.
        The Chairperson said, 'What chance have they got?'
        'Your guess is as good as mine,' sighed Harris.
        'So what do we do now?'
        'We sit and wait.' Harris flopped down into the nearest chair,
and covered his face with his hands. He was exhausted - and
pessimistic. 'If the Doctor hasn't done something within an hour, I'm
evacuating the Compound.'
        The Chairperson thumped her fist angrily into the palm of her
other hand. 'No!' she growled. 'I forbid it!'
        Harris looked up and glared straight at her defiantly. 'And
that's final - Miss Jones!'
        The Chairperson was outraged. But she didn't say another
word.

       The North Sea had never looked more menacing. A few miles
from the mainland great tufts of thick grey cloud hung over the
surface of the water, each of them looking like the distorted faces of
goblins, relishing the thought of what was to come.
       The blue and white Euro-Gas helicopter carrying the Doctor
and Jamie darted in and out of the clouds, dispersing them into even
more grotesque shapes. The search for Robson and Victoria was
intensifying, and their destination, the Control Rig Complex, was
positioned in the middle of the network of gas rigs some twenty
miles out from the coastline.
       Their first sign that they were approaching the rigs was when
Jamie caught sight of a yellow rubber dingy bobbing up and down on
the rolling waves. Then the Doctor picked out another one, and then
another. Soon, the entire area was littered with identical survival
craft, all bearing the Euro-Gas legend. Each one of them was empty.
The Doctor's worst fears were confirmed. The weed was permitting
no-one to escape from its massive onslaught.
       Soon after they passed over the dinghies, the pilot suddenly
drew the Doctor's attention to something down below and dead
ahead. It was their first view of the vast complex of rigs, jutting out
of the sea and mist like huge ghostly galleons. The largest
construction was the Control Rig complex itself. This was
surrounded at a distance by a rectangle of smaller rigs, all of them
containing chopper pads with EG printed in bold black letters. The
Doctor pointed downwards, and the pilot began descending the
helicopter.
       The helicopter approached the rigs at low level, skimming just
above the surface of the waves. Jamie felt a mixture of exhilaration
and anxiety as they weaved in and out of the rigs. They were barren,
unwelcoming places for human beings to spend so much time on,
boasting nothing more than cranes, hoists, and a massive web of
drilling machinery. And as they drew closer, the full impact of what
had happened to the rigs and its crew, became a frightening reality.
Every one of the rigs and the sea around was covered with a layer of
bubbling white foam. The effect was dazzling. In the Doctor's mind,
he and Jamie were two flies being enticed into a giant spider's web.
       Within a few moments, the helicopter was hovering over the
Control Rig, and the huge rotating blades soon dispersed the foam
below, propelling huge blobs of it into the air. The helicopter door
opened, and Jamie threw out a rope ladder which reached down to
the chopper pad.
       The Doctor was first to climb down the ladder, then Jamie. It
was a perilous descent, for the pad had been left slippery by the alien
foam. Once they were safely down, the Doctor turned to look up and
give the pilot the thumbs-up sign. The pilot did likewise, withdrew
the ladder, and took the helicopter up to a higher altitude.
       'Over her, Jamie!' called the Doctor, as he found his way to a
steel door marked LOG ROOM: AUTHORISED PERSONNEL
ONLY.
       Jamie followed quickly, but stopped briefly to take a
suspicious look around the ghost-like rig. 'Where is everyone?' he
said. 'The place is deserted.'
       The Doctor used both hands to open the heavy steel door.
'Careful now, Jamie. We're being watched.' Without another word, he
disappeared through the door. Jamie lingered just long enough to
notice the lack of seabirds everywhere. His eyes were very firmly
directed towards the helicopter, hovering above the rig.
       Then he too quickly disappeared through the door. After he
was gone, the white blobs of foam began to reform.
       The Doctor and Jamie found themselves at the top of a flight
of metal steps which led down to a poorly lit corridor, containing not
one door, but three.
       'So far, so good,' said the Doctor quietly.
       'Will the driver wait for us?' asked Jamie hopefully.
       The Doctor smiled. 'The driver is not a driver, Jamie. He's a
pilot. Don't worry, he'll wait.'
       Jamie swallowed hard and looked at the corridor below. 'Do
we go down there?'
       'I'm afraid so. Follow me.'
       Jamie kept as close behind the Doctor as he possibly could. 'It's
like walking into the lion's den.'
       'I feel we're already in his den, Jamie. We must just try to
avoid putting our heads into his mouth!'
       'Their slow, cautious footsteps echoed on the metal steps, until
finally they were in the corridor below, which was just above sea-
level.
       'It's awful quiet,' whispered Jamie. 'You think Victoria's down
here?'
       'I don't know. It's possible.'
       Without stopping to think, Jamie suddenly called out to
Victoria in exactly the same way he had done so many times before
during their adventures together. 'Victoria! Where are you?'
       The Doctor immediately clapped his hand over Jamie's mouth.
'Ssh, Jamie! There'll be no element of surprise...'
       No sooner had he spoken than Victoria's stifled voice came
echoing from somewhere along the corridor. 'Jamie! Doctor!'
       Jamie pulled the Doctor's hand away from his mouth. 'It's her!
It's Victoria!' He was about to move off in the direction of Victoria's
call, when the Doctor quickly stopped him.
       'Wait Jamie!'
       'What's the matter?'
       'If you were hunting, what would you do?'
       Jamie thought for a moment. 'Oh Aye. It could be a trap?'
       The Doctor nodded. 'Let's be cautious, just in case.' He and
Jamie moved slowly along the corridor.
       They paused briefly outside the first door, then after a
moment's hesitation, they barged straight in. The Doctor turned on
the light. It was a small video and computer tape store cupboard. But
no Victoria. They repeated the process at the next door. This time it
was the Log Room itself. But once again, although deserted in a
hurry, everything was in order. And still no sign of Victoria.
       As they approached the third door, they stopped dead. They
could hear the slow, pulsating sound of the alien heartbeat coming
from inside the room.
       The Doctor looked at Jamie. 'This must be it. Ready?'
       Jamie gulped hard, then nodded. The Doctor carefully opened
the door. The heartbeat sound stopped immediately. The room was in
darkness. Jamie felt for the light switch, and flicked it on.
       The room exploded into a cacophony of squeals and deafening,
pulsating heartbeat sounds.
       The Doctor and Jamie stared in horror as the room was flooded
with light. They were in a large crew cabin, at the far end of which
was a seething mass of bubbling white foam. And in the midst of that
foam was a sight that would chill the blood of even the strongest of
mortals. The figure of a man was standing there, half-demented, his
neck and hands sprouting frond-like weed formations. And out of the
foam that had almost completely engulfed him, the curling tentacles
of the giant Weed Creature were snaking around his lifeless body.
       The deafening heartbeat sound stopped abruptly. There was a
deathly silence, then the man who had become a creature himself,
began to emerge from the foam, arms out-stretched, walking slowly,
jerkily, straight towards the Doctor and Jamie.
       'Come in, Doctor,' whispered the human creature. 'We've been
waiting for you...'
       It was Robson.
                        12
            'Scream, Victoria! Scream!'
      The pilot of the Euro-Gas Company helicopter peered down at
the incredible phenomenon in the sea beneath him. The platform and
chopper pad of the Control Rig were almost totally engulfed in
bubbling white foam, presenting a dazzling spectacle from the air.
      It had all happened so quickly. Within moments of the Doctor
and Jamie disappearing from view below the platform, the alien foam
had quickly regathered and asserted its superiority. Hovering in the
sky high above the North Sea, the pilot was convinced that he would
never see any sign of human life on that rig again. All he could do
now was to watch, wait, and speculate on what grim horrors were
being played out within the bowels of that doom-laden mausoleum in
the middle of the sea...

       'What do you want of me?' The Doctor was backing away from
the deformed human creature that was Robson, who was advancing
on him and Jamie from a mass of bubbling white foam.
       Robson, arms outstretched as though reaching out to touch the
Doctor, came to a halt. His eyes were glazed over with a thin white
film, and he was breathless, barely audible. 'You - are going to help -
our new masters.' His voice was slow, disjointed. 'They need you.'
       'Need me?' The Doctor was suspicious, but fascinated by
Robson's reply.
       Suddenly they were interrupted by the sound of someone
banging at a door along the corridor outside.
       'Jamie! Doctor! Down here!' It was Victoria, her voice
muffled, but yelling her head off. 'Get me out of here!'
       'Victoria!' Jamie immediately dashed out of the room to look
for her, leaving the Doctor to face the zombie-like creature alone.
       'You... are going to help... with the conquest... of the human
planet.' Robson's mouth seemed to move almost mechanically.
       'Robson, listen to me!' The Doctor began to play for time.
'Can't you see what they've done to you? The weed is evil, Robson. It
is dominating your mind...'
       'The human mind... is now obsolete. It is... tired. It is... dead.'
Robson started to move again. 'Only our new masters... can offer us...
life!'
       'Matter will never conquer mind, Robson. It's against the law
of nature.' The Doctor had now backed into the open doorway. As he
did so, he just caught a glimpse of Jamie throwing himself against
the door of another room in the corridor outside. But he quickly
turned back to Robson, who was now only a few metres away from
him. 'Don't you care what they've done to you, Robson? Don't you
care what they've done to your body?'
       'The body... does not exist. Soon...' - Robson opened his arms
wide as though intending to embrace the Doctor - '... we shall all... be
one!' As soon as he had finished speaking, he opened his mouth wide
and leaned directly towards the Doctor. The sound of hissing toxic
gas came from the back of his throat.
       The Doctor quickly shielded his face with his hands, then
yelled out into the corridor. 'Victoria! Jamie! Hurry!'
       With one last supreme effort, Jamie threw himself against the
door of the room where Victoria was being held hostage, and burst it
open.
       'No escape...' continued Robson breathlessly. 'We are... the
new masters... join us... join us... you will... join us...'
       Robson, arms outstretched again, started to advance on the
Doctor. The Doctor made a quick dash for the corridor, where Jamie
and Victoria were just coming out of the room where the girl had
been held hostage.
       'Out!' yelled the Doctor. 'Both of you. Fast as you can!'
       Jamie shouted back, and pointed frantically. 'Doctor! Behind
you!' The Doctor turned. Robson was in the corridor, and closing in
on him.
       As soon as she saw the horrible deformed sight that was
Robson, Victoria screamed.
       Robson stopped dead, as though he had suddenly been shot.
He clutched his ears in agony, and whilst the Doctor, Jamie, and
Victoria looked on in absolute amazement, he began to writhe and
squirm with pain, groaning, 'No... no...no...no...'
       It was at that crucial moment that, for the first time, the Doctor
discovered the secret of the alien weed's vulnerability. Turning
quickly to Victoria, his face beaming with excitement, he yelled,
'Scream, Victoria! Scream!'
       Victoria, trembling with fear behind Jamie, was bewildered.
'What?' she asked. 'What do you mean?'
       'Do as I say, Victoria!' demanded the Doctor, jumping up and
down impatiently. 'Scream again!'
       Victoria duly obliged. Nobody could scream with such
intensity as she, and the noise she made practically rocked the very
foundation of the rig.
       'No!' Robson couldn't bear the sound piercing through his
head, and started to retreat backwards into the Log Room. As he did
so, the small blobs of foam that had been clinging to him,
disintegrated. 'Stop! Stop!' he called, but his pleas were barely
audible.
       'Come on, Victoria!' The Doctor grabbed hold of Victoria's
hand and led her to the Log Room. Jamie followed them. All three
stood in the open doorway, watching Robson retreat back into the
seething mass of bubbling white foam at the other end of' the cabin.
'Keep, screaming, Victoria!' cried the Doctor. And once again,
Victoria obliged.
       Robson was now demented by the noise. Clutching his ears in
agony, struggling to breathe, he sunk lower and lower into the foam,
groaning inaudibly, 'No... No...' And just near him, the curling
tentacles of the giant Weed Creature quivered frantically, desperately
trying to hold on to the power that was gradually ebbing away from
it. Within a matter of moments, Robson had been completely
engulfEd by the foam.
       'Now's our chance!' said the Doctor urgently. 'Let's get out of
here!'
       All three hurried along the corridor and began climbing the
steps leading up to the rig platform. Victoria turned briefly. 'Jamie!
We didn't lock the room!'
        Jamie started to turn back, but the Doctor stopped him. 'Leave
it, Jamie! Leave it! There's no time!'
        The Doctor pushed Jamie up the steps, then quickly followed
him. Once he had reached the platform door, he turned briefly to
look back down at the corridor below. The bubbling white foam was
beginning to seep out from the Log Room.
        The air above the surface of the Control Rig was crisp and
clear after the choking, gas-filled atmosphere of the corridors below.
A calm breeze was rapidly building up into a full-blown gale,
whipping the sea into a frenzy of activity.
        Victoria hesitated at the steel surface door, too terrified to
move. All around her, the platform area was almost completely
covered in bubbling white foam.
        'It's all right, Victoria,' said Jamie, putting a reassuring arm
around her shoulders. 'It doesna' harm you.'
        As soon as the Doctor appeared at the door, the deafening
sound of the thumping, alien heartbeat echoed up from the corridor
below. 'Quick, Jamie! Help me bolt the door!' Using all the strength
in their shoulders, they managed to close the heavy steel door,
immediately cutting off the sound of the heartbeat. After they had
pushed the huge bolt back into position, the Doctor breathed a sigh of
relief. 'That should hold them for a bit!'
        Jamie looked at him with a puzzled start. 'Them?' he asked.
        The Doctor waded off a little into the foam, which was now up
to his waist. 'Where the devil's that helicopter?' he called, looking all
around the sky above the rig. He suddenly spotted it, 'Ah - there!' He
was pointing to something which appeared as no more than a small
speck, hovering just below the clouds some distance away.
        'Hey! Down here!' Jamie, Victoria, and the Doctor started
waving madly at the helicopter.
        'What's the matter with him?' yelled Jamie.
        'Can't he see us?' yelled Victoria.
        The Doctor stopped waving. 'Probably not. There's too much
foam.'
        'More likely he's just scared!' Jamie was now waving both his
hands.
        All three suddenly turned with a start. There was a loud
thumping, banging sound on the heavy steel door they had just
bolted.
        'Let's get out of here!' called the Doctor urgently. 'We can't
wait for the helicopter.'
        Jamie thought the Doctor had gone stark raving mad. 'But we
can't get off this rig without it.'
        'Oh yes we can!' The Doctor pointed to something that was
protruding out of the foam on the chopper pad. It was the small
helicopter Robson had used for kidnapping Victoria.
        Jamie stared in horror at the tiny machine. 'But there's no
pilot!'
        'And it's only got two seats!' added Victoria.
        'Two seats are better than none, my dear,' replied the Doctor
with a grin. 'And anyway, I've been dying to get my hands on one of
those things...' The banging on the heavy steel door became more
intense, more forceful. Someone was determined to break it down.
'No time to lose!' yelled the Doctor. 'Come on!'
        The Doctor rushed off into the foam, leaving Jamie and
Victoria to exchange a look of total horror at what they were letting
themselves into. But as the steel door began to show signs of giving
way, Jamie grabbed hold of Victoria's hand, and dragged her through
the foam towards the chopper pad.
        Within a few minutes, the Doctor, JamiE, and Victoria were
crammed inside the cockpit of' the tiny helicopter. The foam was
expanding rapidly, and creeping up the sides of the windows. If the
three companions were to make their escape, this was their last
chance to do so.
        'Doctor, are you sure you know how to fly one of these things?'
asked Jamie, nervously.
        'Nothing to it, my boy,' replied the Doctor, wildly flicking
every switch he could lay his hands on. 'I watched the pilot on the
way over.'
        Victoria's eyes widened in horror. 'You mean, this is the first
time you've been in one of these machines?'
         'Don't worry,' said the Doctor confidently, 'this is a very
primitive machine. It's quite simple to control - once you know how
to...'
         By sheer luck rather than skill, the Doctor pressed one
particular computer button which suddenly sent the helicopter's
blades whirring into action above their heads. 'Ah!' he exclaimed,
rubbing his hands triumphantly, 'now for lift-off!'
         'Doctor, look!'
         Through the window, Jamie could see someone, arms out-
stretched, struggling towards the helicopter through the whirling
clouds of foam. It was Robson. Behind him were a group of other
zombie-like human figures, all sprouting weed formations from their
necks and arms. One of them was a woman.
         Jamie could hardly believe his eyes. 'It's Robson... and Mrs
Harris... and there's van Lutyens... there's a whole lot of them!'
         Victoria became almost hysterical. 'Hurry, Doctor! hurry!'
         The Doctor was still negotiating the computer controls,
undecided which button or switch would activate the helicopter into
a lift-off. 'Now, let me see,' he mumbled, 'is it this one... or maybe
it's...'
         'Doctor!' Jamie was yelling at the top of his voice, for Robson
and the other zombies were gradually closing in on them.
         The Doctor was still fumbling with the controls. 'Nearly there,
Jamie! Nearly there...'
         Victoria shrieked. The faces of Robson, Maggie Harris, and
the other human Weed Creatures were pressed up against the
windows of the helicopter, clawing with their hands to get in.
         'Do something, Doctor! Hurry!'
         Almost as Jamie was yelling, the Doctor found the computer
button he was looking for, and the helicopter rose up from the
chopper pad, scattering white foam into the air. The take-off was not
exactly a perfect one, for the machine seemed briefly to veer
sideways rather than upwards, narrowly missing the rig's main
observation tower.
         Jamie and Victoria, squeezed onto the front seat of the
helicopter at the side of the Doctor, clung desperately to each other
for protection. Eventually however, the machine did begin to rise,
and the last view they had of the control rig below was of Robson
and the other human Weed Creatures, all grouped together on the
chopper pad, arms outstretched, as though reaching out in desolation
towards the sky.
       'Right!' said the Doctor, impressed with his own mastery of the
helicopter's controls. 'Let's get back to the Refinery...' But as he
pressed the steering stick he was clutching, the machine veered off at
an acute angle, and started to plunge towards the sea.
       Jamie and Victoria were scared stiff and yelling their heads
off. 'Doctor! What are you doing? Up, Doctor! Up!'
       The Doctor was in a complete flap at the controls. 'Oh dear, I
seem to have...'
       He was suddenly interrupted by a voice coming through the
helicopter's RT system. It was the pilot of the other Euro-Gas
helicopter who was tailing them nearby. 'Euro-Gas One to Euro-Gas
Three. Having trouble? Heave back on your stick and increase your
throttle!'
       The Doctor called back: 'Are you sure that's right?'
       Jamic and Victoria shouted at him in unison. 'Doctor! Do as he
says!'
       The Euro-Gas pilot watched with relief as the Doctor's
helicopter pulled out of its dive just as it was about to hit the water.
Then it started to climb and level out.
       The Doctor turned to his two terrified companions and smiled
confidently at them. Then he talked to the other pilot through the RT
unit. 'Thank you so much for your help. I've got the machine off the
ground and it should be comparatively simple to propel it forward.
However, there is just one thing...' He paused, glanced guiltily at
Jamie and Victoria, then continued: 'How do I land it?'
       Jamie and Victoria exchanged a look of agony.

      Back at the Refinery, the Control Hall was like a tomb. At the
Cone, Harris, Megan Jones, Perkins and Price were watching the
video monitor screens for news of the Doctor. But all the equipment
remained ominously silent. Everyone had the same feeling of
impending doom.
        'It's no good!' growled Harris, suddenly thumping the desk in
front of him, 'it's quite obvious we're not going to hear from the
Doctor or any of them again. We must evacuate the Compound!'
        'No, Harris!' insisted the Chairperson, straightening up in her
chair. 'We said an hour. He has ten more minutes.'
        'But even if he does come back, what can he do? The only
possible weapon we might have used against the weed has been
destroyed.'
        'You're quite sure we've lost the entire stock of oxygen?'
        'Every cylinder.'
        'Right!' The Chairperson rose quickly from her seat, and turned
to her secretary. 'Perkins, get on to London. Inform the Defence
Minister I want a full red alert on this now. Tell him what's
happened, and ask him to arrange for as many tankers of oxygen as
he can muster to be sent here immediately.'
        'Yes, madam!' The bewildered Perkins swung back to Price to
put the call through the London. You could tell he was disorientated
by all that had happened: his tie was crooked.
        'They won't be in time,' warned Harris. He and the Chairperson
were strolling back towards the Office Area together. 'Our only hope
now is to evacuate the Compound. The Pipeline Room is a mass of
weed and foam. You've seen how rapidly it reproduces. It could
swamp us all at any time.'
        'It could, but it hasn't yet.' The Chairperson was becoming
irritated with Harris again. 'Until it does,' she said firmly, 'we stay
here!'
        Harris responded icily. 'And when it does attack, how do you
expect to fight it? With what weapons?'
        'Perhaps I can answer that question.'
        Everyone turned to find out who was speaking. It was the
Doctor, who was just entering the hall. With him were Jamie and
Victoria, looking decidedly fragile after their hair-raising ordeal in
the helicopter.
        'Doctor! You're alive!' The Chairperson immediately went to
meet him. 'What about Robson? Did you find him?'
        'My wife!' Harris asked eagerly. 'What about my wife?'
       'We found your wife, Mr Harris,' replied the Doctor solemnly.
'And Mr Robson.'
       'Aye. And a lot of other people too,' added Jamie.
       'Are they - alive?' asked the Chairperson timorously.
       The Doctor nodded. 'Yes, they're alive. But only just. They're
being held hostage out at the Control Rig, under the mental and
physical control of the Weed?'
       Harris was shattered. 'Then I was right. There's no hope. No
hope at all.'
       'You're wrong, Mr Harris,' said the Doctor objectively. 'I
believe there is hope.'
       'But even if we succeed in fighting off the Weed, what about...
my wife, Maggie... all those people affected by it?'
       The Doctor suddenly became very positive. 'On our way back
here, we stopped at the Medicare Unit. The man Jamie fought with in
the corridor has almost completely recovered.'
       'What!'
       'The weed growth on him has disappeared, shrivelled up and
died. The man is still confused and dazed - but he's alive!'
       'But... how? Why? What killed the Weed?'
       The Doctor smiled, and wagged his finger. 'A very good
question, Mr Harris. But I think I know the answer.' He hesitated. 'It
was noise!'
       Everyone in the hall turned to look at him in absolute
astonishment.
       'Noise?' asked Harris incredulously.
       The Chairperson was puzzled. 'You mean, noise can actually
kill the Weed?'
       'Not any type of noise, Miss Jones,' explained the Doctor, 'a
particular pattern of sound vibrations.' Then he turned to Victoria
who was standing just behind him. 'Actually, it was my young friend
here who discovered it.'
       'Me!' spluttered Victoria, astonished.
       The Doctor smiled gratefully. 'You screamed, my dear.'
       'I screamed?' For a moment, Victoria was puzzled. But
gradually, a smile of comprehension showed on her face. 'Oh, yes - I
screamed.'
       The Doctor turned back to Harris and the Chairperson. 'You
see, it is Victoria's own particular pattern of sound that seems to do
the trick. The Weed's nerve system is clearly hyper-sensitive to it.'
       'I'm not surprised,' muttered Jamie under his breath to Victoria.
'So am I!' Victoria retaliated by stamping on his toe.
       'So that's why the crews on the rigs spoke softly,' suggested
Harris. 'Certain types of noise affected them.'
       'Very possibly, Mr Harris,' replied the Doctor. 'And in my
opinion, that is the most important clue we've had so far.'
       The Chairperson's spirits were beginning to revive. 'So where
do we go from here, Doctor?'
       'Before you evacuate this area, will you give me half-an-hour?'
he asked.
       Harris shook his head anxiously. 'The risk is too great. The
whole refinery is crawling with seaweed.'
       'Half-an-hour won't make that much difference,' insisted the
Chairperson. 'Doctor, what d'you think we can do?'
       'We make a noise, Miss Jones - an awful lot of noise.'
       Again Harris shook his head. 'We're too late. We'll never stop
the Weed now.'
       'We've got to!' said the Doctor forcefully. 'There may not be
another chance.'
       'It's impossible, I tell you. The foam is seeping in from every
corner of the Compound.'
       'What we need to do is to attack its nerve centre.'
       Now the Chairperson was doubtful. 'But you said yourself, we
don't know where the nerve centre is.'
       The Doctor's eyes lit up. 'Ah - but we do!' He turned to look up
at the illuminated rig guide at the top of the Cone, and pointed to the
Control Rig light. 'There!'
       'That's the Control Rig,' said Harris.
       'Precisely! We must generate enough sound to penetrate
through to the Control Rig.'
       'Easier said than done,' said the Chairperson. 'How do we get it
there?'
       They were suddenly interrupted by a sound coming from the
pipeline tube above their heads. Everyone in the hall stopped what
they were doing and turned to stare at the giant tube. The sound was
unmistakeable. Squeals, scratching, bubbling, and the thumping,
pulsating heartbeat of the Weed itself.
       'That's how!' yelled the Doctor above the sound, pointing to,
and carrying his glance along the pipeline tube around the hall. 'We'll
transmit all the noise we can to the Control Rig - through the
pipeline.' He turned back to Harris, who was again shaking his head
warily. 'Mr Harris, this is the only way of saving your wife - and
everyone else!'
       Harris still resisted. 'Yes, I realise that, but - '
       'Half-an-hour, Mr Harris, that's all.'
       Harris, torn by indecision, stared hard at the Doctor for a
moment. Then he moved quickly to the Control Cone. 'Price! Let me
see what's happening in the pipeline room.'
       Price flicked a switch and the huge central video monitor
screen sprang into life. There was an immediate gasp from everyone
in the hall. The screen showed the pipeline room, now completely
engulfed in a seething mass of bubbling white foam and squealing,
wriggling weed tentacles.
       Harris, although shaken, spoke quickly, urgently. 'Half-an-
hour? Yes, that's about all the time we've got.' Then he swung back
to the Doctor. 'But you're right - we must try!'
       'Right! Let's get started!' The Doctor immediately became very
busy, inspecting the electrical circuits at the Cone. 'Where are all
these wires connected to?'
       Price answered. 'Transmitter and loudspeaker system
underneath.' He watched in bewilderment as the Doctor followed the
path of the wiring to the back of the Cone equipment. 'Doctor, what's
this all about?'
       The Doctor was thinking rather than answering Price's
question. 'If we can boost this equipment to transmit enough sound
through the pipeline, we can destroy the weed's nerve centre.'
       The Chairperson was watching the Doctor's bustling activity as
though he were quite mad. 'Do you really think this idea will work?'
       The Doctor, who had briefly disappeared behind the control
panel, suddenly popped his head up again to ask: 'Mr Price, have you
a tape-recording machine or some such instrument? It needs to be
quite a powerful one.'
       'Yes, sir!' Price flicked more switches, then swung round in his
seat to pull down an overhead snake microphone. 'Ready when you
are, Doctor!'
       The Doctor called, 'Over here, Victoria - hurry now!'
       Victoria rushed across to the Cone, looking very worried about
the whole thing. The Doctor took her hand, patted it reassuringly and
said, 'I want you to scream as loud as you can for Mr Price. He's
going to record it. All right?'
       Victoria bit her lower lip nervously and replied, 'If you say so,
Doctor.'
       The Doctor smiled, then quickly turned to Price. 'Make a loop
of the recording so that we can repeat it continuously,' he said.
       Price nodded, then adjusted the microphone to suit Victoria's
height. The Doctor rubbed his hands together excitedly, then bustled
off towards the engineers over on the control platforms.
       I hope he knows what he's doing,' sighed the Chairperson.
       Jamie answered her indignantly. 'Of course the Doctor knows
what he's doing!' But he had second thoughts, and added, 'At least, I
think he does... '
       'Mr Harris!' The Chief Engineer was calling from the door of
the impeller area. 'The shaft!'
       Harris exchanged a quick look of alarm with the Chairperson,
then hurried across to the impeller area.
       The Chairperson went straight to the Doctor, who was
concealed on the floor behind the Cone, sorting out a vast complex of
cables and electronic equipment. 'Doctor,' she said urgently, 'we must
hurry!'
       In the impeller area the thumping, pulsating heartbeat sound
was deafening. By the time Harris and the Chief Engineer rushed in,
a flood of foam and weed had seeped up from the lift shaft, and was
swirling around inside the airlock.
       Back in the Control Hall, the Doctor was feverishly
dismantling four magnetised loudspeakers from the back of the
Cone. Then he turned to a group of engineers watching him tensely
nearby: 'Somebody take these speakers and attach them at intervals
along the pipeline!'
        There was a rush of volunteers, who took off with the
speakers, each one trailing its own cable behind it.
        Meanwhile, Price finished preparing the tape recording
equipment for Victoria, who was very unnerved by the thought that
the survival of the human race might depend on her scream.
        'Right, Miss,' said Price, adjusting the microphone one last
time, 'the moment I give the signal, scream your head off.' Victoria
nodded, and waited for the signal. When it came, she opened her
mouth, then hesitated. Price signalled again. Victoria shook her head.
She seemed mesmerised by the microphone dangling in front of her.
Price was getting frantic. 'Co ahead, Miss,' he urged, 'the tape's
running!' Victoria again shook her head. She was in a panic. 'I can't! I
don't know why - but I just can't!'
        'What's the matter?' asked the Doctor impatiently as he joined
them.
        Price swivelled around on his chair. 'The young lady, sir. She
can't scream.'
        'Can't scream!' spluttered the Doctor. He knew many things
about Victoria, one of which was that she had the loudest, most
terrifying scream he had ever heard. 'Victoria,' he said scoldingly,
'this is ridiculous!'
        Victoria was nearly in tears. 'I'm sorry, Doctor - I just don't
know why I can't do it. I think... I think I'm too...' Her eyes widened
as she suddenly caught sight of something over the Doctor's
shoulders. On the other side of the Hall, Harris and the Chief
Engineer were escaping from the impeller area where a great surge of
foam and weed were trying to force its way through the perspex
door.
        The Doctor covered his ears as Victoria let out the most
piercing scream. 'There! I knew you could do it...' But as Victoria
continued to scream frantically, the Doctor's relief soon diminished
when he turned to see what she was screaming at. 'Oh dear,' he said.
'No wonder!'
        With the foam and weed now threatening to burst through the
perspex doors of the Impeller Area, engineers were rushing around
the Hall in every direction. Harris called to two of them: 'All release
valves open!'
      'What are you doing, man?' yelled the Chairperson angrily as
she and the Doctor joined Harris, who was directing operations from
the control platform.
      Harris turned sharply on her. 'I'm going to save the lives of an
awful lot of people, Miss Jones.' He nervously flicked the lock of
hair from his eye, then bellowed to another engineer. 'Close feed
lines one to six!' The engineer nodded, then started turning a huge
release valve gauge wheel.
      The Chairperson protested. 'You mean - you're giving up?
You're evacuating?'
      'Open your eyes, Miss Jones!' snapped Harris, ignoring all
respect for his superior. 'Can't you see what's happening? We're
being strangled! I can't risk the lives of these men here any longer!'
      The Doctor interrupted. 'Just another few minutes, Harris.
That's all we need.'
      'Doctor!' shouted Price from the Cone. 'We're ready with the
scream!'
      'Well, Harris?' pleaded the Doctor.
      Another agonising decision for Harris. He sighed, rubbed the
back of his head aimlessly, then turned back to the engineer. 'Hold
the release valves!' The engineer stopped turning the huge gauge
wheel. 'All right, Doctor,' warned Harris, 'you'd better be quick. What
are you going to do?'
      The Doctor immediately became very animated. 'Well, I wired
up all those loudspeakers there to the pipeline. The sound of
Victoria's scream will be put through this...' He delved into his
pocket and brought out a small electronic gadget no bigger than a
single microchip.
      Harris was puzzled. 'What does that do?' he asked sceptically.
      'It's an adaptable little toy of my own,' said the Doctor, leading
Harris and the Chairperson back to the Cone. 'Together with the
amplifiers, it should produce a sonic layer sound wave.'
      'You mean, like a laser light beam?' suggested the Chairperson.
      'More or less.' The Doctor inserted his gadget into the
makeshift complex of wires behind the Cone. 'This sound should
then travel through your speakers attached to the pipeline, and so
through to the nerve centre of the weed colony.'
       Harris still looked doubtful. 'Will that destroy the Weed here in
the Refinery?'
       The Doctor's head popped up from behind the Cone. 'Well -
no. I'm afraid we shall have to do battle with that ourselves.'
       'How?'
       The Doctor moved to a line of speakers already wired up. 'We
use these!'
       Everyone, including Jamie and Victoria, hadn't the faintest
idea what the Doctor was talking about. Their fears and doubts were
further intensified when the pipeline tube above once again echoed to
the deafening sound of the thumping heartbeat.
       The Doctor now had to shout to be heard. 'Mr Price! If the
foam and weed attack us, we merely aim these loud-speakers directly
at them. Whatever you do, don't get in the way of any one of the
speakers. The sonic sound waves would cut you to pieces!'
       'Doctor!' Jamie was pointing in horror towards the huge central
video monitor. The screen was showing a surge of bubbling white
foam, gushing its way down one of the long corridors leading to the
Control Hall. And in that foam the heinous figure of a gigantic Weed
Creature, its menacing tentacles flapping about in uncontrollable
fury.
       'It's making for the Hall!' yelled Harris. 'Chief! Follow me!'
       Harris and the Chief Engineer rushed into the corridor to be
met by the deafening squeals of not only the giant Weed Creature,
but also its minions, the wriggling small clumps of weed, popping,
and hissing gas in the surging foam. Harris shouted frantically,
'Back!' He and the Chief retreated back into the Control Hall.
       'Full alert!' yelled Harris. 'Lock all doors!' As he spoke, Price
flicked a switch and the emergency alarm klaxon horns echoed
through the Refinery. The whole place was now thrown into a panic.
       'The doors won't last much longer!' called Jamie. His eyes
were firmly fixed towards the perspex doors of the impeller area,
which were buckling under the weight of the foam and a second
Weed Creature.
       The Doctor grabbed hold of two passing engineers, and
practically threw two loudspeakers at each of them. 'Take these and
use them as weapons. Remember - don't point them at any human
person!' The bewildered engineers took the speakers, and rushed off
in different directions.
       Harris's sudden shout was chilling and hysterical: 'Look Out!'
       There was a loud cracking sound as the door leading to the
Compound Corridor burst open, and a great surge of foam gushed
into the hall.
       'Oh my God!' yelled the Chairperson. It was probably the only
time she had ever shown emotion.
       'Everybody back to the platform!' yelled Harris over the
deafening sound of the shrieks and screams and thumping alien
heartbeat. The Chairperson, Victoria, and some of the engineers
made their way to the temporary safety of the raised control
platform.
       The Hall was now in total pandemonium as the aggressive
foam surged ahead, swamping all and everyone in its path.
       The Doctor went quickly to Price at the Cone. 'The tape
recording, Price!' he yelled frantically. 'Turn it on, man!' But Price
was paralysed with fear, staring in open-mouthed horror at the
advancing wall of foam and the gradual approach of the hissing
Weed Creature. The Doctor took hold of Price's shoulders and shook
them firmly, shouting, 'Which switch is it, Price? Tell me!' Price
suddenly snapped out of his state of shock. He looked at his feet. The
foam was already swirling around his ankles. 'Turn on the recorder,
Price. Do you hear me?' Without a word, Price slammed the switch
down.
       The Hall immediately echoed to the deafening sound of
Victoria's screams, repeated over and over again with an electronic
echo overlaid. Everyone clutched their ears in agony, for the screams
were of such a high pitch that they were unbearable to listen to.
       The wall of foam was now surging about the hall nearly waist-
high. The Doctor, Janie and Price struggled their way towards the
raised control platform where the others were waiting with a line of
loudspeakers. They were all virtually trapped into one small area of
the Hall.
       'Your speakers!' yelled the Doctor. 'Switch them on and aim
them directly at the Weed!'
       As he was speaking, the tentacles of the giant Weed Creature
suddenly leapt out of' the foam and snaked towards the group now
sheltering on the raised platform. One of the tentacles reached out
and curled itself around the Doctor's ankle. But Harris moved
quickly, grabbed hold of the Doctor around his waist, and held on to
him firmly.
       'Do as I say!' yelled the Doctor again, struggling to free his
ankle from the tentacles. 'Turn on the speakers - now!'
       Every man on the platform who was holding a loud-speaker,
turned it on, directing it straight at the Weed Creature. The sound
that reverberated around the Hall was shattering. Victoria's recorded
screams, overlaid on top of the existing ones, were deafening,
terrifying. The helpless group looked on in fear and horror, waiting,
hoping. But the weed and foam showed no sign of being affected by
the Doctor's burst of electronic sound.
       'It's not working!' shrieked the Chairperson. 'We can't hold it
any longer!'
       'Wait!' yelled the Doctor.
       The sound of Victoria's recorded screams was growing in
intensity. But the foam surged up the steps relentlessly, and the weed
clumps wriggled and squealed and popped. Gradually, the Weed
Creature itself moved closer and closer towards the raised platform,
hissing gas fumes as it approached.
       The Chairperson was coughing and spluttering. 'I tell you, it's
not working!' she insisted, struggling to breathe. 'We're finished!'
       'No!' Harris's voice boomed out above the recorded screams.
'Something's happening! Look at the Weed! Look at the foam!'
       The Doctor suddenly felt a release of tension as the tentacle of
the giant Weed Creature uncurled from around his ankle. Then he
turned with the others to look at the amazing sight before them.
       The bubbling white foam was retreating, not slowly, but
rapidly. And as it did so, the noise it made was extraordinary, like the
sound of wind rushing through a tunnel. But the most terrifying sight
of all was the giant Weed Creature itself. Victoria's screams had
clearly penetrated into its very soul, if the poor wretched fugitive
from the deep possessed such a thing. Its squeals of agony were
enough to chill the blood, and its tentacles flapped about helplessly
in the air. Gradually, the huge shapeless mass withdrew towards the
Compound door, taking with it the weed clumps that had nestled
around it. After they had gone, all that was left were a few tiny blobs
of bubbling white foam.
       It took several moments for everyone in the Hall to realise that
the battle against the Weed was over - and won. Finally, it was Price
who led the engineers in a rousing cheer for the Doctor.
       'Incredible!' proclaimed the Chairperson, clasping her hands
together in ecstatic: relief. 'Absolutely incredible!' She even found it
possible to laugh at Perkins, her secretary. During the entire
operation he had been crouched in a corner of the platform, shielded
by Victoria. Soon, out of sheer relief, everyone was rocking with
laughter.
       'It worked!' said Harris incredulously. 'It actually worked!' And
indeed there was no doubt about it. Not only was the Hall clear of
weed and foam, but so too was the impeller area.
       The Doctor picked himself up from the floor and called out,
'Everyone - turn off your speakers!' Victoria did so, and Price hurried
back to the Cone to stop Victoria's screams on the recording
machine.
       The Hall was at last plunged into a peaceful silence.
       'But what about the nerve centre of the weed out at the Control
Rig?' asked Harris. 'D'you think we've destroyed it?'
       The Doctor smiled. 'I think you should find out, Mr Harris.'
       Harris nodded, and went to the Cone. 'Price. Send out one of
the Company helicopters. I want a report from the Control Rig right
away.' Price turned back to the control panel, and set about re-
establishing contact with the outside world.
       Within a few moments the Hall was bustling with activity
again, as engineers quickly returned to their posts.
       The Chairperson looked absolutely exhausted. But as she ran
her fingers through her hair in an attempt to tidy it, one could sense
that she was a far more vulnerable and attractive woman than she had
ever revealed before. Nonetheless she was the first person to
appreciate who was responsible for winning the seemingly hopeless
battle against the Weed. 'I don't quite know what to say, Doctor,' she
smiled, 'except - thank you.'
       The Doctor smiled back. 'That is more than sufficient,' he
replied. 'But I can assure you, the person we owe it all to is -
Victoria.' He turned to look at Victoria, who had her back towards
them nearby. She was in tears, sobbing deeply. 'Victoria!' The Doctor
went to her quickly, and put a comforting arm around her shoulders.
'Victoria, my dear. What's the matter?'
       Victoria looked up. Her face was pale and drawn. 'I... I was so
frightened. I always am whenever...' She broke down again. 'Oh,
Doctor, I can't go on like this... I just can't...' The Doctor held her in
his arms, and exchanged a worried look over her shoulders with
Jamie.
       'Doctor!' Harris was calling from the Cone. 'They're safe!'
       The Doctor left Jamie to look after Victoria, then hurried
across to join Harris.
       'Look at them! They're safe! We've won!' Harris was excitedly
watching the huge central video screen. A group of people were
shown there, gathered together in the Log Room of the Control Rig.
Amongst them were Robson, Maggie Harris, van Lutyens, and Chief
Baxter. But they were no longer the demented, half-human Weed
Creatures the Doctor had last seen on the platform of the rig. The
frond-like weed formations had disappeared from their necks and
arms, the colour had returned to their faces, and although they still
looked a little dazed, their eyes were bright and alert. Harris could
hardly contain himself as he called out eagerly to the video screen.
'Maggie! Mr Robson! Can you hear me?'
       Robson looked straight into the camera and replied. His voice
was no longer a whisper. It came through loud and clear. 'Yes, Mr
Harris, we can hear you.'
       'Maggie, are you all right? The Weed - has it gone?'
       The Doctor, Jamie and Victoria, the Chairperson, Harris,
Perkins, Price, the Chief Engineer, everyone in the Control Hall was
watching the video screen anxiously, waiting for Maggie's reply.
       'Yes, Frank - it's gone. We're all perfectly safe.'
       All around the Hall there were expressions of emotional relief.
       'Just one question though,' continued Maggie. 'Would someone
please tell me how the hell I got here!'
       There was a momentary pause. Harris looked from the screen
to the Doctor. He started to chuckle, then laugh. Price joined in, then
the Chairperson, then Perkins. Soon, everyone in the Hall was
rocking with uncontrollable laughter, a pure release of tension.
       The mood quickly changed to loud cheers all round as the
sound of the giant impeller was suddenly heard, throbbing with life
again, echoing throughout the Refinery and the shores beyond.
       The Doctor smiled gently, and looked up at the illuminated
panel on top of the Cone. Every one of the rigs shown there was
flashing with coloured lights.
       Euro-Gas was back in business.

        'I'd still like to know how I got out to that rig,' insisted Maggie,
as she poured after-dinner coffee for her guests, who included
Robson, the Doctor, Jamie, and Victoria. 'I mean, I can't even swim.'
        'You can't remember anything at all?' asked her husband.
'Nothing. It was as though I'd had a nightmare, and had woken up in
the middle of the North Sea!'
        The Doctor smiled sympathetically. 'Nightmares can
sometimes be a very strong emotional experience, Mrs Harris.'
        'But how did I get out to that Rig?' asked Maggie.
        'My guess is that you were cocooned by the foam, and quite
literally, transported out there.'
        Maggie shivered. 'How horrible!'
        'Well, Harris, all I can say is, you were right,' said Robson,
who had fully regained his robust appearance. 'I should've listened to
you in the first place.'
        Harris shook his head. 'I doubt it would've helped. As it turned
out, we were lucky we didn't tamper with that Weed.'
        Everyone laughed as Maggie turned to her husband and said,
'And the next time you ask me to get something out of your desk, you
can come and do it yourself!'
        There was more laughter as Robson added, 'And to think I
wanted to keep you locked up, Doctor. Just as well for us all that
Harris here is inclined to disobey orders!' He dabbed his mouth with
his napkin, then rose from the table. 'Well, that was a splendid
dinner, Mrs Harris. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm rather tired.'
       'Of course,' said Maggie, rising from the table. Everyone but
Victoria did likewise.
       'Shall we see you in the morning, Doctor?' asked Robson.
       The Doctor shook his head. 'I don't think so, Mr Robson. I'm
afraid my friends and I must travel on.'
       'Oh, really? Where are you going?'
       The Doctor took a risky glance at Jamie. 'Er - well, we haven't
quite made up our mind.'
       'Even if we had,' complained Jamie, 'it wouldn't make any
difference. We still wouldn't get there!' He grinned cheekily at the
Doctor.
       Robson smiled, a rare event for him. But he was clearly sorry
to see the last of the Doctor and his companions. 'Well, if you're ever
around these parts again, don't hesitate to drop in on us - only
through the front gate next time, eh?'
       Everyone laughed, then said their farewells to Controller
Robson, who went off to resume the long career that meant so much
to him.
       The Doctor yawned and rubbed his eyes. 'I suppose it's about
time we went too, eh, Jamie?' He turned to Victoria, who was still
sitting at the table, her face resting on her hands. 'Are you ready,
Victoria?'
       Victoria slowly looked up at him. There were tears welling up
in her eyes.
       'Hey Victoria!' Jamie went to her immediately. 'What is it?
What's the matter?'
       Victoria looked away. She was too upset to answer.
       The Doctor went and sat beside her. Taking her hand and
patting it he said, in that soft, inimitably kind and understanding way
that was so characteristic of him, 'It's all right, my dear. I know. You
don't want to come with us, do you?'
       Victoria found it impossible to look at the Doctor. 'I... I don't
know. I don't want to leave you, but...' Finally, she plucked up
courage to look at him. 'How did you know?'
       The Doctor smiled at her affectionately. 'I suspected it.'
       'Would you mind?' she asked.
       'Victoria!' protested Jamie. 'You can't!'
       'Be quite, Jamie!' the Doctor said firmly. Then he turned back
to Victoria. 'You want to stay, settle down?'
       Victoria bit her lip nervously, nodded.
       'Then if you really want to - you must do it.'
       Victoria buried her head in his shoulder. 'Oh, Doctor,' she
agonised, 'I'm so sorry...'
       'It's all right, my dear... all right...' He patted her gently on the
back of the head, then turned to Maggie. 'Mrs Harris, would it be all
right if Victoria stayed with you for a while. You see, she has no
parents or family of her own, and...'
       'Of course she can!' Maggie interrupted immediately. 'We'd be
delighted to look after Victoria for as long as she likes to stay. Isn't
that so, Frank?'
       Harris nodded enthusiastically. 'With the greatest of pleasure!'
       For the first time, Victoria's eyes lit up 'Oh, Mrs Harris, Mr
Harris - would you really mind?'
       Maggie responded by easing Victoria up from the table, and
hugging her.
       The Doctor looked relieved. He was concealing the personal
sadness he felt. 'Thank you both - very much.' Then, for Victoria's
sake, he quickly became very business-like. 'We'll stay here tonight,
Victoria - just in case you want to think again...'
       'Aye!' snapped Jamie resentfully. 'You're talking nonsense,
Victoria - you know you are!'
       'Jamie!' the Doctor reacted firmly. 'This is something Victoria
must decide for herself. It's her life. We must not interfere.'
       Victoria was watching Jamie closely. She couldn't bear that
crumpled, hurt look on his face.

       The windows of the Harrises' married quarters were thick with
frost. But, thanks to an early morning shaft of sunlight which had not
been forecast by the computers, the frost was now beginning to melt
and trickle.
       Inside the kitchen, someone was rubbing a small clear patch on
the window. Victoria's face peered out. It was clear she hadn't slept
well that night, for her eyes were puffed up from crying. In the
distance, she could just pick out the small, stocky figure of Jamie,
winding his way in the cold through the grounds of the Refinery
Compound. As soon as she caught sight of him, she felt a sinking,
hollow feeling in her stomach. Jamie was the best friend she ever
had, or was every likely to have. Even though at times he was
pompous and opinionated, she knew only too well how difficult it
was going to be to continue her life without him.
       'There he is,' she thought, as she went out to meet Jamie on the
kitchen patio, 'that funny little figure in his kilt, pullover, and tam-o-
shanter.' In a few hours time, she would never see him again.
       'You're up early,' he said awkwardly. 'Didn't you sleep?'
       'Oh - yes,' Victoria flustered. 'I'm feeling fine.'
       'Good.' There was an unnatural pause between them, until
Jamie finally said, 'D' you know what the Doctor's done?'
       'No?'
       'He's only gone down to the beach! He gets worse every day!'
He laughed falsely. But Victoria had difficulty in even raising a
smile. There was another awkward pause, and then Jamie could
contain himself no longer. 'You're still not sure, are you?'
       'Yes, I'm sure now,' replied Victoria decisively, 'but that
doesn't make it any easier leaving you and the Doctor.'
       'Aye. We've been together a good time now. Has the Doctor
said anything else to you?'
       'No. You know him - he wouldn't. He believes in people
making up their own minds.'
       'Aye.' Jamie lowered his eyes and made aimless patterns with
his foot in the frost. 'You'll be happy here?'
       'I think so. The Harrises are nice people.'
       'I know. But they're not from your time, are they?'
       Victoria was finding it incredibly difficult to explain how she
really felt. 'The thing is, I wouldn't be at ease back in Victorian times
anyway. After all, I've no family left there.'
       'Aye, I know,' sighed Jamie. 'Ah, well... ' He turned to leave.
       'Jamie!' Victoria quickly stopped him. 'You wouldn't go
without - well, saying goodbye, would you?'
       'Och, no! Of course not!'
      Victoria sighed with relief. 'Good.'
      'Victoria...' Jamie turned back as though there was something
he just had to say to her.
      'Yes?'
      'I... I...' he stammered.
      'Yes, Jamie?'
      Jamie's courage failed. 'Oh... nothing. See you later.' He
turned, and quickly made his way back towards the beach.

      A short time later, the Doctor said their farewells to Victoria,
and left her with Maggie and Harris on the beach. It was a strange
parting, one that seemed totally unnecessary and unnatural to Jamie.
      The sky was now a clear blue, and the sun was streaming down
on the TARDIS which was waiting at the far end of the beach,
covered in a thin film of melting frost.
      As the Doctor and Jamie made their way along the beach, they
stopped just once to turn and wave back to the solitary trio who were
watching them from the distance. Jamie's face had that crumpled,
upset look about it again, so the Doctor quickly took him by the arm
and led him off.
      Victoria watched the Doctor and Jamie disappear inside the
TARDIS. It seemed unnatural to her too, the fact that she was not
going with them, and large tears began to roll down her cherry-red
cheeks.
      The grunting, grinding sound of the TARDIS filled the air.
Victoria shivered with the cold, then turned to look anxiously at
Maggie and Harris. They responded by smiling at her reassuringly.

      'We can't just... leave her,' begged Jamie, as he and the Doctor
stared sadly at the three figures they had just left behind on the
beach. But this time they were watching them on the scanner inside
the TARDIS.
      'We're not leaving her, Jamie,' sighed the Doctor. 'It was
Victoria's decision to stay.'
      'Aye.'
      'Don't worry about her,' said the Doctor trying to sound
confident. 'She'll be happy with the Harrises.'
       'Och, I'm not worrying!' replied Jamie unconvincingly. 'Come
on, let's go!'
       'All right.' The Doctor turned back to the Control Unit. 'Where
would you like to go?'
       'I couldna' care less!' Although he tried to resist it, Jamie's eyes
were still rivetted to the scanner.
       The Doctor watched him for a moment, smiling affectionately
at his young companion's emotional outburst. He knew just how
much Jamie was going to miss Victoria. 'You know, Jamie,' he said,
'I was fond of her too...'
       He sighed again, turned back to the controls and flicked all the
necessary switches that immediately set the TtARDIS in motion.

       The grinding and grunting sound of the dematerialising
TARDIS gradually disappeared. And in its place, the seabirds
returned, swooping low over the surface of the water, searching out
the fish they had thought they would never see again.
       Out and beyond was the vast expanse of sea. The cruel,
unyielding sea. Calm again now. The fury gone.
       All that remained were the small blobs of bubbling white foam
and straggling clumps of seaweed that rolled gently over the waves
of the incoming tide.