‘Yes, Leader Clent,’ she nodded, the moment of uncertainty gone. ‘You are an example to us all.’
Clent relaxed and, nodding his acknowledgement of Jan’s polite submission, brought
ECCO
to life with a brisk tap of his finger.
‘What is the latest report from the Intercontinental Ioniser Programme HQ?’
ECCO’S
sleek head revolved to face its questioner, and answered flatly: ‘
All bases on phase interlock. America
–
glaciers held. Australasia
–
glaciers held. South Africa
–
glaciers held. USSR
–
some improvement claimed
…’
Clent pulled a face, and flicked a politely amused look at Jan, who didn’t respond. ‘They
would
be better than the rest of us,’ he muttered. His face changed as
ECCO
continued coldly.
‘
Brittanicus Base, Europe
–
slipping out of phase. Glacial advance imminent unless condition stabilised immediately—
’
Clent cut the voice short. His face tightened angrily. ‘Nonsense!’ he snapped. ‘We’re holding our own! Can’t they read the seismic print-outs?’
‘It isn’t the seismograph programme that’s at fault,’ Jan
replied
sharply. ‘It’s the Ioniser. We
are
still on a Phase One alert, remember!’
‘My dear Miss Garrett, that is being taken care of by the computer.’
Clent’s words were lost beneath the jagged urgency of the computer public address system. Without waiting for the message to end, Clent and Jan made straight for the Ioniser Room.
‘
Emergency, emergency
–
Phase Two, Amber Alert! Amber Alert! Emergency, emergency!
’
Clent reached the Ioniser controls first – Jan read the disaster signs from a distance. Every monitor was flickering on the verge of red – the next step, bar a miracle, would be total breakdown. Clent switched the controls over to manual, and began fighting to raise the power levels even fractionally from danger. Jan stared in despair at the elegant machine.
‘We’ve failed,’ she whispered.
‘We will
not
fail!’ clipped out Leader Clent. ‘The glaciers haven’t beaten us yet!’
‘What more can we do? Inside two hours, the Ioniser will be useless! The whole European programme of glacier containment will be in ruins!’
‘Not while I’m in command!’ Clent, eyes fixed on the flickering needles, was adjusting the controls like a madman.
‘The glaciers will start to move again,’ she murmured sadly, glancing towards the electronic map. ‘Five thousand years of history crushed beneath a moving mountain of ice…’
‘Not yet, Miss Garrett. We’re not finished yet!’ Clent exclaimed triumphantly.
She glanced at the improved readings, and breathed a sigh of relief. But how long would it last? Clent indicated that she should take over the controls. In the near distance, the computer warning chimed on.
‘
Phase Two, amber alert! All unauthorised personnel prepare to evacuate!
’
Clent punched a communication switch and spoke firmly:
‘Personnel Control – advance that evacuation order. I want all unnecessary people cleared from Base. Only the emergency skeleton staff to remain. All senior grade scientists to report to me in control. Effect immediately!’
His determination had infected Jan, and she didn’t hesitate to speak her mind.
‘Penley could handle this. We need experts like him—’
‘Don’t talk to me about experts and their crazy ideas!’ He paused, frowning. ‘Where’s Arden?’
‘He’s still at the ice face – completing the instrumentation project…’
‘Hasn’t he been warned?’ demanded Clent in alarm. ‘I gave you explicit instructions—’
‘I couldn’t get through. Conditions on the ice face made video contact impossible.’
‘Miss Garrett,’ snapped Clent, ‘you have an unhappy habit of giving up, haven’t you? I need Arden – here! Trained men are vital to our survival!’
The computer warning system had changed pitch, and
carried
a new urgency. ‘
Emergency, Phase Two evacuation. Key personnel only to remain. Red alert to follow!
’
Clent switched the communicator to UHF frequency. ‘Leader Clent to Scientist Arden. Come in, Arden! For heaven’s sakes, man – answer!’
The videoscreen that should have carried Arden’s image was blank. Clent repeated his call – but quickly realised it was hopeless. He moved quickly back to Miss Garrett’s side.
‘Hold it whatever you do,’ Clent insisted harshly.
‘It’s slipping again. I can just about hold it by keeping it on manual… but the time interval between pulse loss is decreasing.’ She looked at Clent calmly, almost resigned. ‘It’s not far from total disintegration…’
‘Hold on, Miss Garrett,’ commanded Clent quietly, ‘hold on. And try everything you know!’
It was the closest thing to a prayer that Clent could manage.
The battered blue box lay toppled on its side, half-buried in a snowdrift. Seconds previously, the snow had been disturbed only by the keen sifting of the wind; then, to the accompaniment of a strange groaning rattle, the blue box had slowly materialised from a vaguely transparent shadow into solid blue reality. What would normally have been its door was now its lid. The lid opened, and from the box popped the head of what looked like a dazed jack-in-the-box. With its puckish features, tousled hair and bright-as-button eyes, it gazed at the snowy world outside in mild amazement. Soon it was joined by two companion heads –
that
of a rugged-faced lad and, at his shoulder, a pretty, doll-like girl.
‘Y’re no flying a boat, are ye, Doctor?’ The young Scot smiled at the older man. His companion looked pained.
‘It was a blind landing, Jamie,’ he replied apologetically.
‘Aye, that’s for sure!’ exclaimed Jamie, starting to clamber out and offering a strong arm to the others. The girl was obviously delighted by the sight of the untrampled snow.
‘There’s no harm done,’ she cried gaily. ‘And just look at the snow…!’
‘Thank you, Victoria,’ said the Doctor with dignity. ‘It’s good to know that someone still has faith in me.’
‘Snow again,’ groaned Jamie in mock-disgust. ‘Tibet was bad enough. Y’ve not landed us farther down the same mountain, have ye?’
The Doctor, having closed the door of the police box, and placed a somewhat battered, tall-crowned hat on his head, looked thoughtfully around. He shook his head.
‘No, Jamie my lad – this isn’t a mountain,’ he mumbled, grabbing at his hat as he ducked out of the way of the snowball which had been thrown at him by Victoria. He began to gaze at what looked like a wall of ice which reared up only a foot away from the blue box. ‘It’s something altogether more peculiar than that.’
Intrigued by his voice, and puzzled by the curious way in which he was sweeping the snow from the ice face, the two youngsters scrambled to join him. Victoria stared at the smooth, dull grey substance that he had uncovered, then looked at the Doctor with laughing, rounded eyes.
‘It looks like a great wall of ice,’ she exclaimed. ‘Perhaps
it’s
the Palace of the Snow Queen!’
‘It’s not ice, Victoria,’ commented the Doctor, ‘it’s plastic.’
Jamie put his hand on the material, then nodded. ‘Aye,’ he agreed, ‘it’s no really cold. But it’s so smooth and curved, can ye no see?’
The Doctor took a pace or two backwards, nearly falling as he did so. ‘It’s a dome,’ he declared. ‘Some sort of protective dome…’
‘But it must be huge,’ Victoria wondered aloud. ‘I can’t see any end to it, can you?’ She turned to the Doctor eagerly. ‘I wonder what’s inside!’
‘There’s no door,’ observed Jamie with dour Scots realism. No sooner had he spoken than the quiet hum of electrically operated machinery reached their ears. The youngsters, reacting quickly to the Doctor’s warning gesture, huddled down behind a drift of snow. Now they could see without being seen…
A door in the plastic surface beneath the ice slid back, and two ragged, unkempt figures stepped out. Having glanced furtively to left and right, the smaller of the two dropped several of the parcels he was carrying; his companion, burlier, and with a wild shaggy beard that made him look like a pirate, snapped at him irritably.
‘What’re you doing? Come on, man, hurry!’
The smaller man hurriedly picked up what he’d dropped, and stowed away his obviously precious prizes in a number of the many pockets which seemed to be concealed beneath his layers of protective animal skin. He seemed much calmer than his irritable comrade.
‘Don’t worry. That alarm wasn’t because of us.’ He started off again, his ill-gotten goods tucked safely away in his poacher’s pockets – then paused, and looked back thoughtfully. ‘I wonder what’s wrong, though…’
‘That’s their problem,’ growled the bearded scavenger. ‘Come on, let’s get away from here!’
For all his bulk, the big man moved through the snow as swiftly as a hunter. The little poacher followed him energetically but with less skill, floundering through the drifts as though unused to legwork. Soon, both men were out of sight. The Doctor and his companions emerged from behind the snowdrift and hurried eagerly towards the sliding door. It fitted perfectly, and seemed to be without handles or catches. It seemed impossible to open – until the Doctor found a pressure control in the plastic moulding which surrounded the entrance. He pressed it. With a gentle whine of power, the door panel slid back. A small vestibule faced them – with an identical door beyond. Jamie saw the opening device there, strode forward, and pressed it – but it wouldn’t budge. He turned back to the Doctor, and shrugged helplessly.
‘It’s locked.’
‘For a very simple reason, Jamie.’ Seeing the exasperation on Jamie’s face, the Doctor quickly supplied his explanation. ‘It’s an airlock. It won’t open until we’ve closed the outer door.’
‘But why?’ asked Victoria. ‘There’s nothing wrong with the air outside, is there? We were able to breathe all right.’
The Doctor smiled, and ushered Victoria into the airlock before shutting out the world of snow. ‘If my guess
is
right,’ he said, ‘I think we’re in for a pleasant surprise…’ He pressed the button. The inner door slid back to reveal a scene that made even the Doctor wonder. There, under an immense plastic dome that kept the Arctic weather conditions at bay, stood a gracious and elegant Georgian country house in a state of perfect preservation. Ahead of them, across a short stretch of lawn, a terrace and a side door opened into the stable block. The Doctor’s eyes twinkled with appreciation. ‘Absolutely charming,’ he said, with a smile. ‘Shall we go in?’
2
Two Minutes to Doomsday
CLENT STOOD BEFORE
the electronic chart that dominated the Grand Hall of the Base HQ. Beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead as he watched the line that represented the glacier flow minutely forward… With the Ioniser now operating at less than half power, the ice could barely be held in check. And if it failed completely, there would be nothing to stop the glaciers’ advance to the Channel, and beyond. What is more, his own career would be in ruins.
‘Leader Clent!’
Miss Garrett was hurrying towards him, her face alert and, for once, pleased.
‘We’ve made contact with Scientist Arden!’ she announced.
Clent strode to the nearest video point, and Miss Garrett channelled the call through to him. In spite of interference and atmospherics, Arden’s goggled face was plainly visible.
‘Arden’ – the Leader ordered firmly – ‘you must return to Base immediately!’
‘Sorry, Clent,’ replied the geologist, ‘but we haven’t finished yet. Another hour, and then we’ll be back.’
‘Now!’ insisted Clent. ‘The Ioniser is close to breakdown – you know what that means!’
‘Chilly weather ahead,’ joked the grinning face on the interference-flecked videoscreen. ‘I wonder if Penley’s ears are burning?’
Stung into anger, Clent barked out his reply. ‘I’m giving you an order, Arden. You’ll return now – and no arguments!’
‘I’ve got good reason to delay,’ replied Arden without flinching. ‘A fantastic discovery in the ice—’
‘Your task was to replace a probe!’ Clent’s anger boiled over. ‘You are not there to indulge in amateur archaeology! Do you hear?’
Arden was unimpressed. ‘Even when the discovery is a man?’
Jan, standing at Clent’s shoulder, could see he was surprised, even impressed, but his reply was typically crushing.
‘Congratulations – it makes a change from pottery fragments! Now leave it and return – as ordered!’
‘As soon as I’ve got the body loaded on to the airsled,’ commented the grinning geologist. ‘I’m bringing it back with me, Clent. These blasted glaciers owe me that much!’
Clent fumed. He was helpless – and Arden knew it.
‘There will be a full disciplinary enquiry!’ he snapped.
‘Can’t hear you, old chap… too much interference… see you shortly.’
The screen went blank.
At the same moment, the computer warning system went into Phase Three – Red Alert.
*
The door from the stable courtyard led directly into a passageway connecting the servants’ kitchens with the main body of the house. There was no sign of life as yet – except the distant repetition of the warning relay. Leading the way, the Doctor paused at the heavy door. He placed his ear against it, and listened intently. Victoria was gazing round, wondering whether she was in a dream – the house so much resembled the Victorian mansion that had once been her home!
‘It’s a lovely old house,’ she sighed. Jamie, like the Doctor, was more concerned with the possible dangers ahead.
‘What’s that they’re saying, Doctor…?’ he queried.
The Doctor could only frown and shake his head. He opened the door a fraction, so that the warning voice could be heard more clearly.
‘Phase Three. Red alert. Evacuate. Evacuate. Transport section leaders report to loading bays. Phase Three. Evacuate!’
‘There’s something wrong…’ the Doctor murmured.
‘It looks peaceful enough to me,’ commented Victoria.