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Authors: Malcolm Hulke
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thousands, all over the world. When the reptile men started to be re-activated up in Derbyshire, you can imagine how they felt about homo sapiens being the masters now.’
‘I don’t know that I can,’ said Jo.
The Doctor paused in his work to make his point. ‘Jo, if you went to sleep for, say, twenty years in your home, and then woke up to find it had been taken over by rats and mice, how would you feel about that?’
‘I’d want to clear them out,’ Jo said. ‘I see what you mean now. These reptiles think of humans as vermin?’
‘Naturally,’ said the Doctor. ‘To them, Earth is their planet, and always has been. As far as they’re concerned, Man is an ape who’s risen above himself.’
‘If they’d been hibernating for millions of years,’ Jo asked, ‘what woke them up?’
‘In Derbyshire it was the presence of a cyclotrone using enormous amounts of electrical power,’ said the Doctor. ‘Here, for this is clearly what we’re witnessing again, I don’t know... probably something to do with the drilling being carried out by this oil-rig.’ He sat back and regarded his make-do radio transmitter. ‘I think that should work now. What’s our call sign?’
Jo left her stove to look around the smashed-up transmitter. ‘It’s written on the wall here,’ she said, ‘ZXT 413.’
The Doctor switched on, then picked up one of the pocket transistors and spoke into its loudspeaker: ‘ May Day... May Day... This is ZXT 413. We are stranded on the oil-rig. Please send immediate assistance. Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Over. ’ The Doctor turned on the pocket radio that he had left intact as a receiver, although he had altered its wavebands down to ultra-short-wave.
‘What’s May Day got to do with it?’ Jo asked.
‘French for “aid me”,’ replied the Doctor. ‘Look,’ and he scribbled it down on a piece of paper so that Jo would understand. M’aidez . ‘It’s used internationally nowadays,’ he added, ‘instead of SOS.’
‘No one’s answering,’ said Jo.
‘Have patience, my dear, we shouldn’t expect miracles—’
His words were overspoken by a strong masculine voice coming from the one receiving pocket radio: ‘ Hello, oil-rig. Hello, oil-rig. Have received you loud and clear. Am about to land. ’
Even as the voice spoke they heard the roar of a helicopter directly overhead.
‘You say we shouldn’t expect miracles?’ said Jo, with a grin. ‘What do you call that ?’
While the Doctor, Jo, and Clark were being lifted off the oil-rig in the air-sea rescue Naval helicopter that had been sent out by Captain Hart long before the Doctor had managed to transmit his May Day message, George Trenchard was slowly driving his landrover along the approach leading to the château. He drove slowly because he wanted time to think, and he wanted to think because he was about to commit a crime.
Trenchard had been immediately impressed by the intelligence of the Master, his one charge, and by the man’s seeming desire to become a reformed character. Even so, he was wary: it would not be the first time a prisoner had pretended to become reformed in order that security should be relaxed, thus allowing him to escape. Trenchard had heard all about those tricks. And then these ships started disappearing, and it was the Master who had produced the only possible explanation for them: some unknown enemies of England were trying out some deadly new weapon, just off the coast. Trenchard was in favour of relaying this information directly to the Government, but the Master pointed out that in a situation as dangerous as this no one could be trusted. What they needed was proof. In any case, the Master had said, if the Government was informed at this stage, someone else would be bound to get the credit. The Master’s plan was that he and Trenchard would work together to get to the root of the problem; then Trenchard would truly qualify for the recognition he so richly deserved, while the
‘I don’t know that I can,’ said Jo.
The Doctor paused in his work to make his point. ‘Jo, if you went to sleep for, say, twenty years in your home, and then woke up to find it had been taken over by rats and mice, how would you feel about that?’
‘I’d want to clear them out,’ Jo said. ‘I see what you mean now. These reptiles think of humans as vermin?’
‘Naturally,’ said the Doctor. ‘To them, Earth is their planet, and always has been. As far as they’re concerned, Man is an ape who’s risen above himself.’
‘If they’d been hibernating for millions of years,’ Jo asked, ‘what woke them up?’
‘In Derbyshire it was the presence of a cyclotrone using enormous amounts of electrical power,’ said the Doctor. ‘Here, for this is clearly what we’re witnessing again, I don’t know... probably something to do with the drilling being carried out by this oil-rig.’ He sat back and regarded his make-do radio transmitter. ‘I think that should work now. What’s our call sign?’
Jo left her stove to look around the smashed-up transmitter. ‘It’s written on the wall here,’ she said, ‘ZXT 413.’
The Doctor switched on, then picked up one of the pocket transistors and spoke into its loudspeaker: ‘ May Day... May Day... This is ZXT 413. We are stranded on the oil-rig. Please send immediate assistance. Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Over. ’ The Doctor turned on the pocket radio that he had left intact as a receiver, although he had altered its wavebands down to ultra-short-wave.
‘What’s May Day got to do with it?’ Jo asked.
‘French for “aid me”,’ replied the Doctor. ‘Look,’ and he scribbled it down on a piece of paper so that Jo would understand. M’aidez . ‘It’s used internationally nowadays,’ he added, ‘instead of SOS.’
‘No one’s answering,’ said Jo.
‘Have patience, my dear, we shouldn’t expect miracles—’
His words were overspoken by a strong masculine voice coming from the one receiving pocket radio: ‘ Hello, oil-rig. Hello, oil-rig. Have received you loud and clear. Am about to land. ’
Even as the voice spoke they heard the roar of a helicopter directly overhead.
‘You say we shouldn’t expect miracles?’ said Jo, with a grin. ‘What do you call that ?’
While the Doctor, Jo, and Clark were being lifted off the oil-rig in the air-sea rescue Naval helicopter that had been sent out by Captain Hart long before the Doctor had managed to transmit his May Day message, George Trenchard was slowly driving his landrover along the approach leading to the château. He drove slowly because he wanted time to think, and he wanted to think because he was about to commit a crime.
Trenchard had been immediately impressed by the intelligence of the Master, his one charge, and by the man’s seeming desire to become a reformed character. Even so, he was wary: it would not be the first time a prisoner had pretended to become reformed in order that security should be relaxed, thus allowing him to escape. Trenchard had heard all about those tricks. And then these ships started disappearing, and it was the Master who had produced the only possible explanation for them: some unknown enemies of England were trying out some deadly new weapon, just off the coast. Trenchard was in favour of relaying this information directly to the Government, but the Master pointed out that in a situation as dangerous as this no one could be trusted. What they needed was proof. In any case, the Master had said, if the Government was informed at this stage, someone else would be bound to get the credit. The Master’s plan was that he and Trenchard would work together to get to the root of the problem; then Trenchard would truly qualify for the recognition he so richly deserved, while the
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