Doctor Who_ The Zarbi - Bill Strutton [39]
These were the remains of the Menoptera race which had been left on Vortis. They had been enslaved by the conquering Zarbi. Near by stood their primitive huts built between the tree trunks and the spar stumps of the broken stalagmites.
The brilliantly coloured Hrostar stood out among this grimy mass of slaves. Though a prisoner, he walked with dignity, unhurried, bearing a bundle of broken stalagmite spars. At the brink of an acid pool he paused for a moment, tired. The Zarbi guard on the pool chirruped and gestured angrily. Hrostar glared and then, stubbornly taking his time, emptied the spars into the pool. A puff of acrid smoke swirled up.
Near him an old slave Menoptera came staggering towards the pool, breathing heavily under his burden of spars. Hrostar halted him with a gesture.
‘You are too old to carry such a burden, Prapillus,’ he said. ‘Let me take it.’
‘I am fitter than many half my age,’ the old man retorted testily, clinging to his bundle and stumping on towards the pool.
‘My father is very stubborn,’ a voice said. Hrostar turned. A Menoptera girl, Hlynia, was looking at him. She smiled. Though her winged finery was tarnished and soiled, she was beautiful.
‘Not stubborn – proud’, Hrostar said gently.
Barbara came toiling towards them with a load of spars.
She was exhausted, and she stumbled and fell. Not until a Zarbi guard turned and chirruped menacingly did she gather enough strength to rise. Hrostar bent and helped her gather the spars. She looked around her wearily.
‘Hrostar – what is this work we are doing for?’
Hrostar held up a spar. ‘Raw materials for the Zarbi buildings.’ He tossed an armful of spars into the acid pool and watched the smoke rise. ‘These are drawn into the centre, through underground streams. As we load them in
– the building reaches out across Vortis.’
‘This centre – this... building – that’s where the Doctor will be,’ Barbara mused. ‘I’m sure of it.’
‘At the Zarbi Headquarters?’
Again their Zarbi guard chirruped and raised a threatening foreclaw. Hurriedly Barbara collected the rest of the spars and fed them into the pool. She and Hrostar turned and tracked tiredly back for another load. Barbara was thoughtful.
She said, ‘Somehow I shall have to try and make my way there...’
‘To the Headquarters of the Zarbi? Impossible!’
‘Is it?’ Barbara asked, defiantly.
‘A girl alone? Do you imagine you can succeed where a
dozen of our Menoptera scouts failed?’ Hrostar turned and gestured to the toiling slaves. ‘We landed here to liberate our own folk. We know this planet better than you. Yet we met disaster, Vrestin, myself and the others. The Zarbi were everywhere. They captured our guns. We were trying to contact our spearhead, waiting out in space, when the Zarbi burst into the cave. We had to smash our communicator. And now...’ Hrostar shrugged helplessly.
‘This spearhead force of yours – when does it arrive?’
Barbara asked.
Hrostar was about to answer when he checked himself warily. He turned away. ‘Soon,’ he said curtly.
‘Will the invasion succeed?’
‘It must! The Zarbi Headquarters building has got to be destroyed, or we shall lose Vortis forever!’
‘But if the Zarbi are so powerful, how will you overcome them?’
‘We have a new weapon. Our scientists have been working to perfect it. If it fulfils their hopes, it will sweep these vile creatures from Vortis.’
‘What is this weapon?’ asked Barbara.
Hrostar hesitated, doubtful whether he should confide in Barbara, a stranger.
‘If we ever get near enough to the Zarbi Headquarters with it – you will see what it does,’ he said.
Doctor Who and Vicki were staring at the small slow-moving mass of light spots on the astral map.
The Doctor straightened, nodded.
‘Yes, I’d say definitely - a space army. And on the move, too.’
Behind them a Zarbi entered the control room from one of the webbed tunnels. Vicki turned and noted it was carrying a strange tubular object. Its muzzle was ringed with small clusters of tubes, and at the wider stock