Read Online Doctor Who: The Sea-Devils by Malcolm Hulke - Free Book Online
Authors: Malcolm Hulke
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will you?’
‘Anything in particular, sir?’ asked Bryson, as he adjusted his transmitter to the oil-rig’s wavelength.
‘I don’t know,’ said Hart. ‘Let’s see if we can get an answer first.’
Bryson spoke into a microphone: ‘ HMS Foxglove calling oil-rig five. I repeat, HMS Foxglove calling oil-rig five. ’ As with all Naval shore-establishments, the base had a name like a ship, and the name was always preceded with the words HMS—Her Majesty’s Ship.
‘How long do they usually take to reply?’ asked Hart.
‘When they’re fully operational, sir,’ said Bryson, ‘there’s always a sparks on duty. But No. 5’s only got two maintenance men on her. You know, that’s the rig where everything kept breaking down.’
‘Yes,’ said Captain Hart thoughtfully, ‘I remember.’ He suddenly made up his mind what had to be done. ‘Forget the call Bryson, and call up air-sea rescue.’
Jo opened a tin of baked beans and poured the contents into a little saucepan. They had had beans for breakfast, and now they would have to have beans for lunch. She could not find any other food anywhere on the oil-rig. Clark was at last sleeping peacefully, having had a troubled night full of bad dreams, and the Doctor was engrossed with building a complicated radio transmitter circuit from what remained of half-a-dozen pocket radios. Jo looked across at him and the tangle of wires strewn all over the table.
‘How’s it going?’ she asked.
‘Nearly finished,’ he said. ‘I’m just about to test it.’ He made a few final adjustments. ‘Now,’ he said proudly, ‘let’s see if we can call up the outside world!’
The Doctor turned on a switch that he had introduced into the circuits. From six tiny loudspeakers they heard one of the familiar voices of BBC Radio 1:‘— and here’s a question for all serious motorists. If your car breaks down between Trafalgar Square and Aldwych, are you Stranded? Oh well, can’t win ’em all, so let’s move on to another golden oldie by the Beatles —’ The Doctor turned off the switch, rested his chin on his hands and studied the mass of wires. ‘Somehow I must have forgotten to reverse the circuits,’ he muttered.
‘Maybe some food will help you to think better,’ suggested Jo. ‘It’ll be ready soon.’ She got on with cooking the beans while the Doctor set to work again with his wires, diodes and transistors.
After a few moments had passed Jo said, ‘Last night... that thing that attacked us... you said it was related to something that came out of caves in Derbyshire?’
‘That’s right,’ said the Doctor, as though that closed the matter.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘can you explain what you meant?’
‘It’s a rather sad story,’ the Doctor began. ‘You see, millions of years ago reptiles were the masters of this planet.’ *
‘I know all about the dinosaurs,’ said Jo.
‘Everybody knows about the dinosaurs,’ said the Doctor, rather resenting the interruption. ‘What people don’t know is that the reptiles also developed a highly intelligent form of humanoid, homo reptilia . These creatures believed that Earth was going to be badly affected by the arrival of a rogue planet from outer space, so they prepared deep underground shelters for themselves. The little planet didn’t cause any great harm at all—in fact, it got caught within Earth’s gravity and went into orbit around it.’
‘The Moon!’ exclaimed Jo.
‘Exactly,’ said the Doctor. ‘These reptile men and women had put themselves into deep hibernation, so that they wouldn’t use up any food or oxygen while they were in their shelters. Their plan was that special triggers on the surface would re-activate them all once the little planet had gone on its way. But because it went into orbit instead, and became the Moon, the triggering mechanisms never worked.’
Jo asked, ‘How many of these shelters did they build?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ said the Doctor. ‘Possibly
‘Anything in particular, sir?’ asked Bryson, as he adjusted his transmitter to the oil-rig’s wavelength.
‘I don’t know,’ said Hart. ‘Let’s see if we can get an answer first.’
Bryson spoke into a microphone: ‘ HMS Foxglove calling oil-rig five. I repeat, HMS Foxglove calling oil-rig five. ’ As with all Naval shore-establishments, the base had a name like a ship, and the name was always preceded with the words HMS—Her Majesty’s Ship.
‘How long do they usually take to reply?’ asked Hart.
‘When they’re fully operational, sir,’ said Bryson, ‘there’s always a sparks on duty. But No. 5’s only got two maintenance men on her. You know, that’s the rig where everything kept breaking down.’
‘Yes,’ said Captain Hart thoughtfully, ‘I remember.’ He suddenly made up his mind what had to be done. ‘Forget the call Bryson, and call up air-sea rescue.’
Jo opened a tin of baked beans and poured the contents into a little saucepan. They had had beans for breakfast, and now they would have to have beans for lunch. She could not find any other food anywhere on the oil-rig. Clark was at last sleeping peacefully, having had a troubled night full of bad dreams, and the Doctor was engrossed with building a complicated radio transmitter circuit from what remained of half-a-dozen pocket radios. Jo looked across at him and the tangle of wires strewn all over the table.
‘How’s it going?’ she asked.
‘Nearly finished,’ he said. ‘I’m just about to test it.’ He made a few final adjustments. ‘Now,’ he said proudly, ‘let’s see if we can call up the outside world!’
The Doctor turned on a switch that he had introduced into the circuits. From six tiny loudspeakers they heard one of the familiar voices of BBC Radio 1:‘— and here’s a question for all serious motorists. If your car breaks down between Trafalgar Square and Aldwych, are you Stranded? Oh well, can’t win ’em all, so let’s move on to another golden oldie by the Beatles —’ The Doctor turned off the switch, rested his chin on his hands and studied the mass of wires. ‘Somehow I must have forgotten to reverse the circuits,’ he muttered.
‘Maybe some food will help you to think better,’ suggested Jo. ‘It’ll be ready soon.’ She got on with cooking the beans while the Doctor set to work again with his wires, diodes and transistors.
After a few moments had passed Jo said, ‘Last night... that thing that attacked us... you said it was related to something that came out of caves in Derbyshire?’
‘That’s right,’ said the Doctor, as though that closed the matter.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘can you explain what you meant?’
‘It’s a rather sad story,’ the Doctor began. ‘You see, millions of years ago reptiles were the masters of this planet.’ *
‘I know all about the dinosaurs,’ said Jo.
‘Everybody knows about the dinosaurs,’ said the Doctor, rather resenting the interruption. ‘What people don’t know is that the reptiles also developed a highly intelligent form of humanoid, homo reptilia . These creatures believed that Earth was going to be badly affected by the arrival of a rogue planet from outer space, so they prepared deep underground shelters for themselves. The little planet didn’t cause any great harm at all—in fact, it got caught within Earth’s gravity and went into orbit around it.’
‘The Moon!’ exclaimed Jo.
‘Exactly,’ said the Doctor. ‘These reptile men and women had put themselves into deep hibernation, so that they wouldn’t use up any food or oxygen while they were in their shelters. Their plan was that special triggers on the surface would re-activate them all once the little planet had gone on its way. But because it went into orbit instead, and became the Moon, the triggering mechanisms never worked.’
Jo asked, ‘How many of these shelters did they build?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ said the Doctor. ‘Possibly
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