Doctor Who_ Warriors Of The Deep Part 2

'Not if I can perform a quick materialisation flip-flop,'

said the Doctor calmly. His hands flickered over the controls, and the time rotor shuddered into life, rose and fell rapidly for a moment, and then cut out. The Doctor opened a flap on the console and peered hopefully inside.

'Well, that's stage one!'

'Commander!' called Bulic.

Vorshak hurried over to the defence console. 'What is it?'

'The reconnaissance probe has stopped transmitting data, sir. It just stopped.'

'A breakdown?'

'Either that or it's been destroyed.'

Vorshak raised his voice in command. 'Perimeter defence, stand by! Lieutenant Karina, feed the co-ordinates of any hostile vessel directly to the defence system. We'll blast it out of the water.'

'I can't, sir,' said Karina helplessly. 'The only thing registering on the scanners is some form of marine life.'

Lieutenant Preston looked puzzled. 'That's impossible.

There's nothing out there strong enough to destroy a reconnaissance probe.'

Bulic crossed to study Karina's console. 'Karina's right.

There's nothing out there but organic life.'

Suddenly an alarm siren sounded. Everyone turned to look at the main monitor screen. The message they all dreaded was flas.h.i.+ng on the screen: 'MISSILE RUN', and beneath it in smaller letters: 'Green Alert'.

Maddox was staring at the words in fascinated horror.

'Maddox!' snapped Vorshak. 'Don't just sit there verify.'

Maddox operated computer controls with trembling fingers. He studied the data on his read-out screen. 'The computer has started countdown, sir.'

Vorshak swung round in his chair. 'a.s.sessment, Bulic?'

'Hard to tell, sir. Could be a random practice run, initiated by the computer. Equally well, it could have been triggered off by the intruder sighting and the loss of the probe.'

'Then we must a.s.sume the missile run is for real.'

Vorshak raised his voice. 'All teams to battle stations.'

Lieutenant Preston spoke into her intercom. 'Battle teams one, two and three, take up defence positions.'

Karina was studying a stream of new data on her read-out screen. 'A report from Sentinel Six in planetary orbit, sir. Sentinel Six has just engaged an unidentified flying object. Attempts to shoot it down were unsuccessful, and it has now disappeared.'

Her announcement only added to the tense atmosphere on the bridge.

Vorshak and his officers sat grimly at their consoles, monitoring the flood of information on the display screens in front of them.

'Missile computer on automatic targeting,' reported Bulic. 'Arming of photon missiles now in progress.'

Suddenly the synch op area came to life. Light beamed down on the chair, which began humming with power.

'Prepare for synch-up,' said Vorshak.

Maddox didn't move.

'Maddox! Take up your position.' Vorshak looked at the trembling figure crouched over the computer console.

'What's wrong, Maddox?'

'I can't do it, sir.'

'You must. Without you, our missiles are useless.'

'Do you think I don't realise that?'

'Synch up, Maddox,' ordered Vorshak harshly. 'We need you to find out what the computer is doing. Come on, we could be at war!'

Reluctantly Maddox rose and crossed to the synch chair, and settled himself in place.

Eyes closed he leaned back against the head-rest. Nilson peeled back two tiny patches of hair from Maddox's skull, revealing the electrodes beneath.

'Just relax,' said Nilson gently. 'a.s.sess what the computer tells you, and relay the information to the Commander. Leave the final decision to him.'

'I still have to pull the firing-lever,' muttered Maddox.

'It may not come to that. Now, are you ready?'

Maddox nodded. Nilson touched a control, and the gleaming metal helmet descended over Maddox's head.

Vorshak looked on, concerned. The synch op system had been in operation for a relatively short time. Vorshak had never been happy about it.

So sophisticated was the latest generation of computers that it was literally impossible to deal directly with the speed and complexity of the data they provided. An interpreter was needed, a link between man and machine.

That link could only be a human brain, still the finest computer of all but not every brain was suitable. Synch ops were carefully selected, rigorously trained. Electrodes were surgically implanted in their brains, enabling them to be literally plugged in to the computer complex synched up so that they could monitor and interpret the computer's data, giving the Commander the information he needed.

Vorshak knew that the final responsibility was his, but Maddox was his link to the computer. And if that link did not hold...

Maddox shuddered in the chair, and then relaxed.

Nilson said quietly, 'We have synch-up to missile computer, Commander.'

'Go ahead, Maddox.'

Maddox's hands they were the computer's hands now began moving swiftly over the keyboard in front of him.

'Missiles locked onto targets, sir.'

A complex pattern of missile tracks appeared on the defence screen. Above it flashed the message 'MISSILE RUN. RED ALERT'. Collectively, the Bridge held its breath.

The Doctor straightened up from the console. 'We made it!'

'I don't believe it,' said Tegan.

Turlough was equally sceptical. 'I don't think the Doctor does either!'

'Well, it was a little close,' admitted the Doctor. 'Now then, let's see where we are...'

'Well, where are are we?' asked Tegan. we?' asked Tegan.

'Still in the same time-zone, at least,' said the Doctor thoughtfully.

'And on Earth?'

'I think so.' The Doctor switched on the scanner, and studied the picture thoughtfully.

It didn't tell him very much. They were in a large open s.p.a.ce inside some kind of structure. In the distance a spiral staircase led up to a higher level.

'Well, let's find out,' said the Doctor.

Tegan s.h.i.+vered. 'It's a bit chilly in here.'

Turlough looked around: white-painted metal walls, walkways and staircases and a strange distant sound could it be the lapping of water? 'We seem to be on some kind of s.h.i.+p.'

The Doctor spotted a circular porthole and went to peer out of it. He could see only murky blackness. 'Or a submarine. There's no movement. We could be on the sea-bed.' He nodded towards the spiral staircase. 'Come on, let's take a look around.'

They began climbing the staircase. None of them noticed that the TARDIS door wasn't properly closed.

Maddox said hoa.r.s.ely. 'Missiles armed.'

'Prepare firing sequence,' ordered Vorshak.

Maddox's hands moved rapidly over the controls and then became still. His right hand rested on the firing lever.

The words 'COUNTDOWN TO IGNITION' flashed up on the screen. On the console before Bulic, a digital clock began its countdown: 60, 59, 58...

'Countdown to missile launch under way!' announced Bulic.

In total silence, the officers of Sea Base Four waited for the moment that could mean the outbreak of war.

Bulic said harshly, 'Thirty seconds to launch...'

Vorshak looked at the diminis.h.i.+ng numbers on the screen: 28, 27, 26. He looked at Maddox, who sat trembling at the console.

Vorshak would give the order, but Maddox must pull the lever. Would he, could could he do it? he do it?

Suddenly an electronic wailing filled the Bridge area, and a new message flashed on the screen. 'SIMULATED MISSILE RUN. ALL CLEAR'.

Vorshak let out a long sigh of relief. 'Well, we can breathe again.'

Maddox flopped forwards on to his console, like a puppet whose taut strings have suddenly been cut.

Vorshak looked at the slumped figure. 'Get him out of here!'

Two guards ran forward and began lifting Maddox from the chair.

'Take him to the PS unit,' said Nilson quickly. 'Doctor Solow will attend to him.'

Vorshak rubbed a hand across his eyes. 'What a time for a practice run!'

Bulic said, 'Commander, you realise the Base is defenceless while Maddox is out of action?'

Preston came to join them. 'And we still have to establish what destroyed our probe and what Sentinel Six shot at.'

Vorshak nodded wearily. 'Sound the all-clear. But the Base will remain on full alert.'

A strange electronic wailing filled the air.

Tegan looked up. 'What's that noise?'

They were walking along a white-walled metal corridor.

The Doctor stopped, studying some lettering on one of the metal sections that made up the wall. It was misted over with condensation.. The Doctor rubbed at it with his hand.

Turlough pa.s.sed him a handkerchief.

'Ah, thank you Turlough.' The Doctor rubbed away the condensation. 'Sea Base Four. Ah, yes, a Sea Base, I thought as much!' He handed the handkerchief back to Turlough. 'Thank you.'

'Not at all, Doctor. And the noise?'