Doctor Who_ The Green Death - Malcolm Hulke [1]
He raced along the gallery towards the mine’s lift shaft. When he got to the lift, panting for breath, he looked at his fingers in horror. The whole of his hand was now glowing bright green. He fell into the colliery lift, slammed the gat., and pulled the lever that would hurtle him 500 yards up to the surface.
While the village of Llanfairfach had lost its coal mine, it had gained Panorama Chemicals. This was a new industry in the village, with a small oil refinery, very modern office buildings, and an imposing set of gates and high fences to keep out intruders.
A large number of villagers were gathered outside the main gat. when Dr Thomas Stevens, managing director of Panorama Chemicals, arrived in his big black chauffeur-driven car. As the gates opened to admit the car, angry fists waved at Dr Stevens and a number of posters were held out in front of him. They read ‘Free Wales’, ‘English Out!’, and ‘Jobs for Coal Miners. The elegantly dressed Dr Stevens smiled back at everyone through the glass windows of his vast limousine, and the car glided forward to the front entrance of the main administration block. Mark Elgin, the company’s public relations officer, was standing there to greet Dr Stevens. Elgin opened the car’s door, and Dr Stevens stepped out.
‘Welcome back, sir,’ said Elgin. ‘What’s the news?’
‘It’s all good,’ said Dr Stevens. Then he gestured to the crowd on the other side of the main gate. ‘How long has this been going on?’
‘Since early this morning,’ said Elgin. ‘The usual un-employed layabouts.’ Elgin came from a working-class background himself, but through being bright at examinations had gone to university, and now considered himself superior to others less fortunate.
Dr Stevens, who was feeling in a slightly more benevolent mood, put on a show of concern for the people crowded on the other side of the gate. ‘But what’s worrying them this time?’ he asked.
‘I suppose, sir,’ said Elgin, ‘they want to know what is going to happen.’
‘In that case,’ replied Dr Stevens, ‘I shall tell them.’ He went forward to the gate so that the people could hear him, and waved a piece of paper at them. ‘I have here in my hand,’ he said slowly and loudly, ‘a paper which will mean a great deal to all of you.’ He paused for dramatic effect, then called out: ‘Wealth in our time!’
A small cheer went up from some members of the village crowd. Dr Stevens took a couple of steps nearer to the gates.
‘Of course we all regret that the National Coal Board closed down the mine,’ he said, not regretting it at all himself but knowing this would please his listeners. ‘But we must not be bitter. We have to face facts. Coal is a dying industry. Oil is our future now, and the Government agrees with me. They have not only given us the go-ahead for our plans—they have promised us money for expansion. I have it here in black and white.’ He waved the paper again. Actually it was the menu from the hotel where he had stopped off to have lunch, but he knew no one could get near enough to read it. He really did have a letter from the Government in his brief case in the car but he couldn’t be bothered to fetch it. ‘This means money for all of us. More jobs, more houses, more cars.’
A tall young man shouted something in Welsh. He had a tousled head of black hair, blue jeans and a polo neck sweater, and stood out from the crowd.
Dr Stevens smiled, as he had been taught to smile at his minor public school when he couldn’t understand something. ‘I’m terribly sorry,’ he said, ‘but I haven’t mastered your language yet.’
‘Then I’ll repeat it in English,’ shouted the young man. ‘What you’re offering means more muck,