Doctor Who_ The Ice Warriors - Brian Hayles [2]
Brittanicus Base, the last, hastily-organised outpost of defence against the New Ice Age, was plotting the movement of the glaciers which, minute by minute,threatened to engulf it...
But the sophisticated wall chart could not reveal the bitter Polar conditions that existed outside the Base on the Cotswold hills.
Those hills and valleys which had remained free of the ice were now unrecognisable beneath their thick mantle of windswept snow. At its best the Ioniser defence could only hold back the ice; any attempt to reduce the snowy wastes would have meant disastrous flooding of the southern lowlands.
The weird landscape—a nightmare of snow and ice which had been driven, part-melted, and had then refrozen into bizarre grottoes and sculpted caverns—looked as bleak and unwelcoming as the wildest reaches of the Antarctic. It was impossible to imagine that this ice desert had once been green fields and gently rolling hills. Even the Scavengers—
those grimly determined natives who had refused to emigrate to the more temperate climate of the equator—had fled from the hills and set up their shanty-town communes in the lowlands bordering the south coast. Only occasional fanatics determined to die amidst the snow rather than retreat, and scientists dedicated to the last-ditch Ioniser programme, could still be found on these snowswept ridges and escarpments.
And no one travelled alone. Who would willingly run the risk of falling victim to wolves or polar bears?
But there were always jobs to be done, and Arden—once a keen archaeologist, and now the Base’s geologist—had a particularly important one at present: that of replacing a faulty seismic probe in the ice.
The weather conditions—fine and clear—had favoured the expedition so far. But now Arden was wondering, as he glanced up towards the towering glacier face, where it would be safe to insert the pencil-slim seismic probe. The first attempt had resulted in a massive section of the ice face fracturing and falling away. But it had revealed an ideal spot for a probe: a smooth face in a relatively sheltered position, and one which allowed easy access for the sled which carried the equipment. Arden turned his goggled and hooded face towards his two companions, Walters and Davis, and beckoned them to him.
‘Walters,’ he shouted against the low whine of the wind,
‘drill here!’
Walters, the armed member of the party, helped Davis, the seismology technician, to bring his drilling gear to the site indicated by Arden, who was already unwrapping and checking the slim seismic probe. While Davis assembled his pistol-shaped drill and connected it to the portable power pack, Walters moved to Arden’s side. With a nod of his head, Arden indicated the area he had chosen.
‘Clear away any loose ice, will you, Walters?’ he asked.
‘Sir,’ acknowledged the burly security sergeant, then turned towards the ice face, and began to clear it in preparation for the drilling. Suddenly, he turned round.
‘Mr Arden. sir. come quick!’
Arden hurried forward. Walters was desperately rubbing the already smooth surface of the ice with his heavy glove.
‘I’ll swear there’s something inside the ice, sir. Look!’
Arden’s passionate interest in archaeological ‘finds’ was known to everyone at the Base, and he wondered whether Walters was pulling his leg. He peered into the depths of the ice—and blinked! Something was there—and it looked like a man! Arden raised his snow goggles, and looked again, his face alive with excitement.
‘What is it, sir?’ asked Davis, pressing forward.
‘It’s... human. No, I can’t be certain—’ Arden spoke impatiently. ‘Bring me the power light, man. Quickly!’
Davis hurriedly made the necessary connections, and shone the beam deep into the ice. What they now saw, deeply embedded and eerily green-tinted, left them dumbstruck: a massive form, possibly eight feet in height. and clad in what looked like armour—certainly its mighty head was shaped like the helmet of an ancient warrior.
Walters glanced eagerly at Arden. ‘Is it a find. sir?’
‘We’re going