‘Great,’ said Jo. ‘But what is it?’
‘I’m preparing the TARDIS to travel to Metebelis Three.’
Jo asked, ‘Whatever for?’
‘I thought we could do with a little holiday,’ said the Doctor. ‘It’s a particularly beautiful planet. Everything is blue, even its sun.’
‘What if you’re needed here?’ said Jo. ‘Have you asked the Brigadier’s permission to take leave?’
‘My dear Jo,’ said the Doctor, ‘I’m not bound hand and foot to UNIT. I’m the scientific adviser, not a clerk. I am free to go and come as I please.’
‘Provided you can make the TARDIS actually go anywhere,’ retorted Jo. ‘I thought the Time Lords decided where it could go?’
The Doctor looked quite affronted. ‘I admit there have been occasional problems, but this time I shall be in complete control. Metebelis Three is somewhere I’ve always wanted to show you—’
But Jo wasn’t listening. Something in the newspaper had caught her eye. ‘Listen to this,’ she said indignantly, and read from the newspaper : ‘“The Ministry has at last given the green light to Panorama Chemicals.”’
The Doctor completely misunderstood Jo’s sudden interruption of his train of thought. ‘Not a green light,’ he said, ‘a blue light. The sky is blue, the ground is blue. They even have some very pretty blue birds there...’
But Jo was equally absorbed. ‘Listen to this bit,’ she said, and read from the newspaper again : ‘“Common-sense has triumphed at last”.’ She threw down the paper. ‘Don’t the Government realise the pollution that’ll be caused if Panorama Chemicals goes ahead?’
‘Also,’ the Doctor went on, ‘they have some very beautiful blue sapphires, and I hope to get hold of one.’
‘Were you listening to me?’ asked Jo.
‘You seem to have gone off at a tangent,’ said the Doctor.
‘I’m going to do more than that,’ said Jo. ‘I’m going to go off at a... Well, I mean I’m going to pack a suitcase.’
‘What a good idea,’ approved the Doctor. ‘I should have the TARDIS ready to leave in a few minutes.’
‘The TARDIS?’ said Jo. ‘Oh no, I mean that I’m going to this place in Wales, Llanfairfach.’
The Doctor looked astounded. ‘Whatever for?’
‘Why don’t you read the newspaper sometimes?’ said Jo, making for the door. ‘Then you’d know what for.’ She stormed out.
The Doctor carefully put down the electrical circuit unit and picked up the discarded newspaper. He was just beginning to read about the Government’s decision to support Panorama Chemicals when the Brigadier came in.
‘Morning, Doctor,’ he called chirpily. ‘Reading the newspaper, I see.’
‘How very observant of you,’ said the Doctor.
‘Well,’ said the Brigadier, ‘I’ve got a very interesting little job for you. Chap in Wales came up from a mine glowing bright green. Think you might be able to find out why?’
‘Why what?’ asked the Doctor.
‘Why he’s glowing bright green,’ said the Brigadier. ‘Bit odd, don’t you think?’
‘Has anyone tried asking him?’ said the Doctor.
The Brigadier put on his solemn expression, reserved for State occasions and military funerals. ‘The poor fellow is dead.’
‘Surely that’s something for the police,’ said the Doctor. ‘We’re not policemen.’
The Brigadier lowered his voice, even though no one could possibly be listening to their conversation. ‘Between you and me, Doctor, there may be international implications. Possibility of sabotage at Panorama Chemicals.’
‘It’s all I keep hearing about this morning,’ protested the Doctor, ‘this firm called Panorama Chemicals.’
‘Big stuff,’ said the Brigadier. ‘Important connections at high levels. UNIT’s duty is to protect them. My duty.’
‘Then do your duty, Brigadier,’ said the Doctor. ‘Play at being a policeman if you wish.’
Jo entered wearing a raincoat and carrying a small suitcase. ‘I think I left my newspaper,’ she said.
‘Where are you off to?’ asked the Brigadier.
‘Wales,’ answered Jo, taking her newspaper from the Doctor. ‘To do something about Panorama Chemicals before it kills us all.’
‘My dear young woman,’ said the Brigadier, ‘may I remind you that you are a member of UNIT, and I have just received orders to
protect
Panorama Chemicals—‘
‘Then you’d better issue an order for my arrest,’ Jo cut in. ‘Fling me into a dungeon, have me court martialled.’ She made for the door.
The Brigadier turned to the Doctor for help.. ‘Doctor, please, tell her she must remain here.’
‘She works for you,’ said the Doctor, ‘not me.’
The Brigadier appealed to Jo. ‘Miss Grant, you could at least explain what you have in mind!’
‘I could,’ she said, ‘but I don’t think you would understand. Our stupid Government has told Panorama Chemicals that they can go ahead with their plans to try and manufacture oil artificially. The result could be universal pollution. There’s a man called Professor Clifford Jones who’s fighting against Panorama Chemicals. He needs all the support he can get. So I’m going to help him.’
‘I’ve heard of that man,’ said the Brigadier. ‘He’s an impractical dreamer.’
Jo tucked the newspaper neatly under her arm, ready to go. ‘So, sir, were Jesus of Nazareth, Christopher Columbus, and Marconi.’
The Brigadier studied Jo for a moment, then smiled. ‘Well, perhaps we can discuss this on the way.’
‘What do you mean, sir?’
‘I have to go there too,’ said the Brigadier. ‘My mission is rather different from yours, but you could at least accept a lift.’ He turned back to the Doctor. ‘I hope you will be coming along as well, Doctor.’
The Doctor was preoccupied with his electrical circuit unit. ‘Sorry, Brigadier. I’m not a policeman, and I
am
going to Metebelis Three. Miss Grant can explain to you where that is on your little jaunt.’
‘I see.’ The Brigadier’s face was grim. He was not used to his orders being disobeyed. He returned his attention to Jo. ‘Well, Miss Grant, I’ll meet you in the car park in ten minutes.’ He stalked out, ignoring the Doctor.
‘Tell me,’ said the Doctor,’‘why are you really going to this place?’
‘Because I’ve read so much about Professor Jones. He’s fighting for everything that’s important—the sort of things you’ve always fought for.’ Jo paused. ‘In a way he reminds me of a... well, a younger you.’
‘I don’t know whether to feel flattered or insulted,’ said the Doctor, smiling. ‘But don’t worry. I do understand.’ He moved over to the TARDIS. ‘I hope he lives up to your expectations.’
‘Doctor,’ said Jo, suddenly apprehensive, ‘you will be coming back from this Metebelis place?’
‘After I’ve had a little holiday,’ he said. ‘Sure you wouldn’t like to come along? According to the Time Lords’ files there are no monsters, only a few friendly animals. The weather is always fine, and beautiful blue flowers grow in profusion.’
She shook her head. ‘My place is here on Earth, Doctor. Have a good trip.’
The Doctor entered the TARDIS, then looked out from the door. ‘Tell the Brigadier I’ll follow you both down to Wales later.’
Jo beamed. ‘That’s marvellous!’
But the Doctor had already closed the door. Almost immediately Jo heard the sound of the TARDIS dematerialising, like the trumpeting of a thousand wild elephants. Then, as she watched, the battered old police box slowly disappeared.
Two million light years away the little planet called Metebelis Three slowly orbited its huge blue sun. No space traveller had landed there in three hundred thousand years since a lone Time Lord stayed for a few hours and wrote up the report that was later filed by the Time Lords.
The silence of a valley of blue rock was suddenly broken by the arrival of the TARDIS. Using hyperdrive, passing through Time and space, the TARDIS had travelled the two million light years in nil-time. Inside the TARDIS the Doctor made his usual checks of external atmosphere, gravity, and the possible presence of harmful radiation. The dials and meters on his console proved that in the previous three hundred thousand years, nothing had changed. Metebelis Three was as safe and inviting as it had always been. Through a monitor screen set over the console, the Doctor was able to look out onto the valley. He saw a bed of huge blue flowers growing quite close to where the TARDIS had landed. A bright blue butterfly had just settled on one of the flowers.
Looking forward to his holiday on the little planet, the Doctor opened the door and stepped out. His particular quest was to find the blue sapphires for which the planet was famous. These, according to the Time Lords’ files, were at the top of a mountain not far from this particular valley. He closed the door of the TARDIS behind him, locked it and pocketed the key. Then he strode over to take a closer look at the flowers and the butterfly.
As the Doctor approached the flowers they turned their heads towards him, as though in greeting. Then their petals opened to the full, and from inside each flower came a venomous hissing sound. The butterfly rose up and flew straight at the Doctor’s face. Droplets of venom struck the Doctor’s hands and face, stinging him. Alarmed, the Doctor stepped back. A ground plant with straggling blue tentacles wrapped itself around his right ankle. As he dragged his foot away, three enormous blue birds swept down at him from the sky, squawking and trying to nip at his face with their blue beaks. The Doctor raised his hands to fight them off. One of the birds bit his finger.
From further down the valley came the pounding of hooves. He turned to see a herd of blue unicorns bearing down upon him.
The Doctor ran for his life, pursued by blue birds, blue unicorns, and spat at with venom by blue flowers.
His holiday was not turning out quite as he had hoped.
The Brigadier pulled on the handbrake of his jeep. ‘I trust two weeks will give you enough time to do whatever it is you want, Miss Grant?’ They had stopped outside a rambling old farmhouse on the edge of the village of Llanfairfach. Over the door of the house were painted with loving care the words ‘WELCOME TO WHOLEWEAL.’ With less loving care someone else had chalked on the wall of the house ‘THE NUT HATCH’, and ‘NUTTERS GO BACK TO CARDIFF’.
Jo reached into the back of the jeep for her suitcase. ‘I’ve no idea, sir. It depends how much Professor Jones needs help.’
‘You realise,’ said the Brigadier, ‘that I ought to put you on a charge for dereliction of duty? However, while you were busy saying goodbye to the Doctor, I checked your file. You have two weeks’ leave owing to you.’
‘Thank you very much,’ said Jo, getting out of the jeep. ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’
The Brigadier looked at the big old house. ‘Bit run down, don’t you think? Windows haven’t been cleaned in months.’
‘Then that’s something I can do to help,’ said Jo pertly.
‘The place probably needs re-plumbing and re-wiring,’ the Brigadier went on, amusing himself at Jo’s expense. ‘Still, I suppose you know best.’
‘I can survive without luxury,’ said Jo, although looking at the house she began to wonder what it might be like inside. ‘There haven’t been any grand hotels in my work with the Doctor, you know.’
‘Oh well,’ said the Brigadier. ‘If you get fed up with the Wholeweal Community, you know where to find me. Over at Panorama Chemicals.’
‘On the other side,’ said Jo.
‘Unlike you, Miss Grant, I have an open mind about Panorama Chemicals.’
‘There are times, sir,’ said Jo, ‘when I think you have an open mind about everything.’
‘Meaning I have no opinions?’
‘Meaning,’ said Jo politely, ‘that it’s important to have opinions, and to stick to them.’
‘I suspect,’ said the Brigadier, letting out the handbrake, ‘that this conversation is verging on insubordination.’ He smiled to show he meant no harm. ‘Best of luck.’
‘Thank you, sir.’ Jo suddenly remembered the important thing she should tell the Brigadier. ‘And sir?’
The Brigadier was just about to drive away. ‘Yes?’
‘I almost forgot. The Doctor told me to say that he’ll be along soon.’
‘How very kind of you to have remembered,’ said the Brigadier. ‘If it had crossed your mind to tell me earlier, I might have enjoyed the drive from London.’ He let in the clutch, and the jeep drove away.
Jo went up to the door of the house and pulled an old-fashioned door bell. No bell rang inside; instead, the knob and some rusty wire came away in her hand. She put the knob down carefully on the step, and tapped on the door. Nothing happened. Cautiously she pushed the door, found it was unlocked. She looked inside.
‘Hello?’
No answer. The walls of the hallway were white-washed and clean but the hall had the musty smell of damp. Jo crept into the hall and followed a corridor leading to the back of the house. She found a door with a notice reading ‘ROOM FOR LIVING’, tapped, and looked into the room. It had a few old armchairs and a radio that might have come out of a museum. She went on down the corridor, found another door with a notice which read ‘TOADSTOOLS, PROFESSORS, AND OTHER THINGS—WATCH IT!’ Jo tapped on the door and was just about to push it open when a male voice bellowed, ‘Come in!’
Jo went in. It was a sort of laboratory with a work bench, Bunsen burner, microscope and cupboards. A young man in blue jeans and a polo neck sweater was delicately taking a slice from a strange-looking fungus and mounting it on a microscope slide.
‘Excuse me,’ Jo started to say.
‘Shut the blasted door,’ shouted the young man, without looking up. ‘It says outside “watch it”, and you didn’t.’
‘Didn’t what?’
‘You didn’t watch it.’ He placed the slice of fungus on the slide and seemed satisfied. ‘You could have ruined a month’s work by letting the temperature in here drop half a degree.’
‘How do you ever get in and out,’ Jo asked, ‘without opening the door sometimes?’
‘Ah, good point,’ said the young man. ‘But I watch it, Understand?’
‘No,’ said Jo. ‘But it doesn’t matter. I’m Jo Grant, from London. I rang up and spoke to someone called Nancy, whoever she is. I’ve come to help Professor Jones.’
The young man flashed a glance at her. ‘And how do you propose to help Professor Jones? You’re not old enough.’
Jo was outraged but tried not show it. ‘I’ve been assistant to an eminent scientist for some time, you know.’