‘What on earth do you think you’re doing?’ he yelled.
‘Trying to get a little playmate for you,’ she called.
The roar of aero-engines made them both look up. Two fighter-bombers were approaching.
‘You’re an idiot,’ he shouted at her.
‘And you are a rude pig,’ she shouted back.
The first napalm bomb dropped on one of the lower slopes. It exploded with a terrific flash, spreading its burning chemical over a wide area.
‘I was worried silly about you,’ he shouted over the roar of the bomb.
Two more bombs exploded, spreading fire.
‘Then why, don’t you show it?’ she demanded.
‘I
am
showing it,’ he screamed above the roar of the aircraft. ‘That’s why I’ve come here to save you.’
‘I can save myself, thank you.’
‘Please, Jo,’ he yelled, ‘I love you.’ His words were drowned by another violent explosion.
‘What?’ she shouted. ‘I didn’t hear.’
‘I love you,’ he yelled at the top of his voice. ‘And now before we’re both killed, can we get the hell out of here?’
‘All right,’ she shouted. ‘Let’s go!’
They raced along the dip, then climbed to a ridge. Down below them was a sea of writhing maggots. As they turned two bombs landed on the maggots. Professor Jones pointed : ‘Look, a cave!’
They ran for the ‘cave’. It was the remains of an old wooden bunker. Over the years slag had been heaped over it, leaving a small entrance. They fell and rolled into it, and lay breathless. Then the professor sat up.
‘Can I kiss you again?’ he asked.
‘I hope so.’ She closed her eyes, waiting for his lips to touch hers.
‘Stay absolutely still,’ he said.
‘I am absolutely still,’ she said, her eyes still closed.
‘I mean,’ he said, ‘we have a little friend in here with us. Don’t move.’
Jo’s eyes opened wide. In the back of the cave a huge maggot reared its head. Then it leapt at Jo. Professor Jones flung Jo to one side, and kicked the maggot out of their refuge. At the entrance a large number of maggots had now gathered, attracted by the exciting smell of human flesh. Some of them were scorched by the bombs, but otherwise showed no sign of being harmed.
‘We’re going to need help,’ Jo said, ‘and fast.’ She produced from her pocket her miniature UNIT walkie-talkie, pulled up the telescopic aerial and started to give her calling code into the microphone.
The Doctor looked about the small empty office in which he was held prisoner. He had already tried his sonic screwdriver on the door lock, but without success. Now he regarded the window. It was heavily barred. Since escape seemed impossible he lay down flat on the floor, put his hands behind his head and tried to go to sleep. He was just dropping off when he heard the lock turn. He leapt up and positioned himself behind the door, hand raised to give a karate chop. The door opened and Mike Yates looked inside. Just in time the Doctor stopped himself delivering a deadly blow.
‘Do come in,’ he greeted Yates. ‘How ever did you know I was here?’
‘I saw you brought along here on a corridor monitor,’ Yates explained. ‘What happened?’
The Doctor quickly explained about meeting Boss and the unfortunate arrival of Dr Stevens and his guards. ‘They tried very hard to “convert” me,’ the Doctor went on, ‘but without success. I kept doing mathematical permutations in my mind. Somehow that threw them. They finally decided I might be a useful hostage, so they put me in here. We’ve got to get out, fast. There’s much more going on than I imagined.’
‘With the mine?’ asked Yates.
‘With the world,’ said the Doctor. ‘They’ve got a mad scheme to create an ordered world society with everyone happy and well-fed.’
‘What’s wrong with that?’ asked Yates.
‘Their price of plenty is eternal slavery, Let’s move!’
Together they slipped out of the room, down the corridor, then down stairs that took them to ground level. An unlocked door let them into the grounds. They were in the concreted area close to the equipment shed.
‘This way,’ the Doctor called, and raced down the alleyway where previously he had been trapped.
With his long legs, the Doctor drew ahead of Yates. Suddenly, behind him the Doctor heard the clang of metal. He turned, saw that the metal grille had slid into position, with Captain Yates on the other side. Yates shrugged, and waved to the Doctor.
‘Keep going, Doctor. Don’t worry about me.’
Reluctantly the Doctor kept running. He raced round the side of the building to where he had left the milk float. As he got into the driver’s seat, alarm hooters started all over the grounds. He started up the motor and drove straight at the front gates. From all sides guards came running at him. This time they carried guns. The guards at the gates levelled their guns at the milk float as the Doctor bore down on them. Two of them fired, and there was a crash of bursting milk bottles. Then the milk float hit the front gates and crashed through them.
From behind the metal grille Mike Yates watched with glee as the Doctor escaped. Then guards closed in on him, guns at the ready. Dr Stevens came running up.
‘Don’t kill him,’ he called out. ‘He can be useful.’
Nancy straightened Professor Jones’s bedclothes, tucked in the sheets. He lay unconscious, breathing heavily.
‘How did it happen?’ she asked.
‘It could have been the explosions from those terrible napalm bombs,’ Jo said. ‘I still feel pretty shaky myself.’
‘He hasn’t got any broken bones, that’s for sure. So it could be concussion.’ Nancy regarded the professor carefully. ‘I don’t like that heavy breathing, though.’
Jo prayed silently to herself that Cliff would be all right. In answer to her call on the walkie-talkie, the Doctor and Sergeant Benton had driven in Bessie through the sea of squirming maggots. To clear the maggots from the entrance of the old bunker, the Doctor had used his sonic screwdriver, adjusting it to emit a high pitched buzz that deafened Sergeant Benton and caused the maggots temporarily to back away. By the time the Doctor and Benton got into the refuge, Cliff was already semi-conscious. The three of them had to lift him into Bessie for the bumpy drive down the side of the slag heap and back to the safety of the Wholewealers’ house.
The Doctor came into the bedroom. ‘Any improvement?’
Nancy shook her head. ‘I think we should call in Dr Davis. He’s the GP for the village.’
Then the young professor opened his eyes. He stared up at the ceiling unseeingly. His lips started to move. ‘Seren... ‘
Jo held his hand fast. ‘Cliff, please wake up! Please, for my sake!’
His lips moved again. ‘Seren... serendipity...’ His eyes closed, and he lapsed back into unconsciousness.
‘Serendipity?’ said the Doctor. He turned to Nancy. ‘Do you know what he meant?’
‘He’s rambling,’ she answered. ‘It isn’t a word.’
‘Ah, but it is,’ said the Doctor. ‘It was coined by a chap called Horace Walpole, after the fairy-tale called
The Three Princes of Serendip
. It means a happy accident.’
‘Doctor,’ said Jo, trembling, ‘Look at his neck.’ She pointed to a small green patch just under the professor’s ear. ‘The green death. The maggot that leapt at me—it must have touched him on the neck.’ She burst into tears.
‘Come to mum,’ said Nancy, putting her arms round Jo as she sobbed. ‘Believe me, luv, while there’s life there’s hope.’
The Doctor quietly left the bedroom, worried and puzzled. He had already injected the professor with a broad spectrum antibiotic to slow down any infection, but so far as he knew they had no cure against the green death. Despite all the efforts of highly-skilled hospital doctors, Hinks had died that morning. The Doctor knew that he had two major problems to solve. First, the green patch meant the young professor’s life was now in danger—if no antidote could be found, Professor Jones would die within twenty-four hours. The second problem was the maggots. They had burrowed to the surface because they needed daylight. The Doctor suspected there was another development yet to come. In the next few days they would pupate in their thousands, turning into some other kind of insect. If that had wings, the green death could be spread all over the world.
He went into the professor’s untidy laboratory and looked at the mass of notes and calculations on the work bench. ‘Serendipity,’ he murmured to himself, ‘a discovery by happy accident...’
The door of the laboratory opened quietly and Mike Yates entered. The Doctor turned, glad to see him. ‘Welcome to the Nut Hatch, Mike. How did you manage to get away?’
‘They let me go,’ said Yates.
‘Really? That was good of them. Do you know why?’
Yates pulled from the pocket of his pin-striped suit a snub-nosed revolver. ‘To kill you, Doctor.’ Beads of perspiration stood on Yates’s forehead. ‘My instructions are to kill you, Professor Jones, and the Brigadier.’
‘Your instructions are false,’ said the Doctor, looking into the nozzle of the gun. ‘You must fight it, Mike. They have done something to you.’
‘They have helped me to see reason,’ said Yates. ‘There will be a new world of prosperity—for all who obey. But first, we must have order!’ He cocked back the gun’s striking hammer.
The Brigadier walked in. ‘Doctor, I’ve been looking for you—‘ He saw Yates and the gun and stopped dead. ‘Captain Yates, put that gun down.’
‘I’m sorry, sir. But I have my instructions.’
‘I am the only person who gives you instructions,’ said the Brigadier. ‘Have you gone mad?’
‘He isn’t mad,’ the Doctor said quietly. ‘But he’s seeing things a different way, Brigadier.’ He turned back to Yates. ‘It is necessary for you to see something, Captain Yates.’
‘Necessary?’ repeated Yates.
‘For increased efficiency,’ said the Doctor. ‘For improved-balance-of-payments, let-my-people-go, strength-through-joy, peace-in-our-time,’ he went on, reeling off nonsense to confuse Yates, ‘you must see what I have in my pocket.’ Slowly he drew from his pocket the beautiful sapphire that he had taken from the mountain on Metebelis Three. ‘Watch it carefully, Mike.’
Yates stared into the blue sapphire which seemed to glow with its own inner light.
‘Soon,’ said the Doctor soothingly, ‘your mind will be locked on to the crystalline pattern, the neural paths of your brain will be swept clean, and you will be free!’
Slowly the gun was lowered, then fell from Yates’s hand. Yates continued to stare into the sapphire. Then he collapsed on to the floor.
‘You see,’ said the Doctor, turning now to the Brigadier, ‘my trip to Metebelis Three wasn’t wasted after all. Mike will be all right now.’
The Brigadier was gazing fixedly into the sapphire. The Doctor quickly returned the precious stone to his pocket, and snapped his fingers before the Brigadier’s eyes.
‘Wake up, Brigadier! Wake up.’
The Brigadier came to his senses. ‘Good grief, what happened?’
‘You fell asleep while on duty,’ the Doctor joked. ‘You could be court martialled for that. Now help me with Mike Yates.’
Together they sat him up.
‘Where am I?’ he asked.
The Doctor briefly told Yates that he had been brain-washed but was now all right. ‘However, I want you to go back to Panorama Chemicals. Are you up to that yet?’
‘I’m as right as rain, sir,’ said Yates.
‘Good,’ said the Doctor. ‘There’s something you must find out for me. It’s very, very important...’ He started to explain.
Dr Stevens sat at his desk reading from a check list. ‘New York,’ he said towards the ceiling.
‘Prepared,’ said the voice of Boss.
‘Zürich,’ said Dr Stevens.
‘In preparation,’ replied Boss. ‘Assessment to follow.’
A tap on the door. ‘Permission,’ called Dr Stevens.
Yates entered. ‘Mission accomplished,’ he said in a zombie-like voice. ‘The Doctor is dead.’
Dr Stevens sat back in his chair well pleased. ‘Excellent work. And the girl?’
For a fraction of a second Yates hesitated. ‘She is too worried about Professor Jones to make trouble. It is not necessary to kill her.’
Dr Stevens narrowed his eyes. ‘Really? How interesting.’ He pressed a button on his intercom. ‘Send in Elgin,’ he said to the microphone. He returned his gaze to Yates. ‘What about the Brigadier?’
‘Unavailable, sir.’
Elgin came into the office. ‘You sent for me, sir?’
Dr Stevens got up. ‘Yes. Will you wait here a moment with Mr Yates? There’s something I have to do urgently.’ He smiled, hurried round his desk and left the office, closing the door.
‘Elgin,’ Yates whispered, ‘do you know what’s their next move?’
‘Next move?’ Elgin stared vacantly ahead of him. ‘Peace in our time. Sheep shall safely graze.’
Yates realised what had happened. He pulled from his pocket the blue sapphire given him by the Doctor. ‘Concentrate on the blue light, Elgin. As you look at it you’ll see a glow. Watch carefully.’
The glowing blue light attracted Elgin’s eyes and he stared into it. After a few moments he reeled back, steadying himself against the desk. ‘Where am I?’
‘With me in the Director’s office, and you’re all right now,’ said Yates. ‘What’s going to happen?’
‘Take-over by the Boss,’ Elgin gasped. ‘Warn the Doctor. At four o’clock this afternoon the computer is going to—’
Suddenly the air was filled with electronic shrieks. Elgin clapped his hands to his ears and fell to the carpet. Yates knelt to look at him. Elgin was dead. Yates looked up, and now spotted the tiny television eye which had watched his conversation with Elgin.
The door opened and Dr Stevens entered with two guards. ‘Well, well, Mr Yates,’ he said. ‘It seems I just can’t depend on you. What a pity.’
Sergeant Benton drove the jeep at top speed through the village. He flashed past the Methodist Chapel, changed down gear to go round the corner of the Working Men’s Institute, speeded up as he tore by the main drive leading to Panorama Chemicals, braked hard to avoid the old wall with the big white-washed letters reading ‘ENGLISH GO HOME’, sounded his horn as he overtook the milk float with the smashed-in front, flashed his headlights at Perry the Policeman who waved frantically to stop him, and finally screeched to a halt outside the Nut Hatch. With delicate care he lifted the old coal sack that lay on the floor of the jeep and carried it into the house.