• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

'It keeps them from straying when Mistfall comes,' Garif pointed out.

'But - '

'It is for the good of the community,' Nefred affirmed solidly.

Login came back angrily. 'My daughter may still be alive!'

Before the argument could continue, the doors hummed open. From beyond, Dexeter strode in. He spared the Doctor a cursory glance, then lifted his head to address the Deciders in their galleries.

'Deciders. I have examined the marsh creature.'

'And?' Nefred inquired.

'Nothing.' Dexeter sounded totally demoralised. 'No aggression. None of the characteristic traits. It's not nearly developed enough. The specimen is useless.'

'That depends on your point of view.'

Dexeter turned to the curiously garbed stranger at his left shoulder who had just spoken. He was not in the habit of being told his job by anyone. 'I'm speaking scientifically,' he explained.

The Doctor grinned and spread his hands. 'So am I.'

A shadow of a smile appeared on Dexeter's sallow face. 'You're a scientist?'

'Nice to meet you,' said the Doctor, taking Dexeter's hand and shaking it warmly. As if struck by a sudden notion, he put an arm around Dexeter's shoulder and drew him aside confidentially. 'Useless, you say? Would you care for a second opinion?'

Romana, Adric and the Outlers were taken by surprise when the TARDIS again pitched to one side. They were thrown across the room as they had been before.

'The Marshmen are lifting the TARDIS again!' Tylos cried. 'What are they doing?'

It was to Adric that the situation first revealed itself. 'The starliner! Romana!' he called.

Romana didn't understand at first. Then it struck her. 'Of course!' she said. If she was the type of person to slap her brow she would have done so. 'The momentum!'

'If the TARDIS is as heavy as you say...'

'What is it?' Varsh wanted to know. 'What momentum?' Romana attempted the calculations in her head. 'Accelerating down the slope - how far, Adric?'

'Say five thousand metres.'

'What are you talking about?' Tylos screamed, clutching at the wall as the floor swayed under him.

Romana threw herself at the console, grabbing hold and reaching out for the controls she would need. 'I think we're about to be used as a battering ram,' she explained. 'A battering ram to smash in the starliner.'

The Outlers gaped at one another.

'What can we do?' said Keara.

'Nothing. Just stand by. I'm taking off. I'll just set the co-ordinates... five thousand metres due west.'

'You can't take off from inside a cave... can you?' said Adric.

'I'd explain,' Romana replied with a smile. 'But I don't think even your maths is good enough. Right. Here we go.'

She was reaching for the dematerialisation switch with one slender hand when suddenly the whole room jarred with such force they were all thrown off balance and collapsed on the floor. The floor felt solid again, unmoving, settled.

They looked at one another, totally bewildered.

'What's happening now?' Adric wanted to know.

'I trust you haven't harmed it?' The threat in the Doctor's voice was none too veiled as he looked down on the body of the Marshchild, laid out on the operating couch in Dexeter's Science Unit, covered with a surgical sheet.

'Merely a little anaesthetic,' Dexeter assured the Time Lord. 'Completely humane, I assure you.'

'At least it won't cause any trouble in that condition, eh?' the Doctor growled.

Dexeter's mouth twisted wryly. 'Unfortunately.'

The Doctor scowled. 'What?'

Dexeter passed his eyes over the Marshchild and, slowly shaking his head, explained, 'It's far too passive for my purposes. I'm trying to research the psycho-dynamics of these creatures. Their motivation to attack us is immensely powerful, you know - it's well documented. But no one has yet troubled to discover why.'

'This one will have the same basic brain type, though,' said the Doctor. 'The main difference is physiological.'

Dexeter regarded the Doctor with a respect that was growing stronger all the while. 'You think so?' he asked.

'Certainly. The behavioural clues are all