flooding her face, and she awoke to a delighted smile.
‘Ian! Oh — Ian...!’
She threw her arms around Ian’s neck and buried her head on his chest. He patted her, murmuring, ‘It’s all right, Vicki — it’s all right...’
The Zarbi had concentrated their attention on Doctor Who, propelling him against a wall. He stood there stiff and austere — and now the Zarbi leader gestured.
From one of the hatches along the outer wall a creature emerged. It was a venom grub. It waddled forward on its countless legs with incredible swiftness, entirely under the direction of the leading Zarbi’s pointing claw. It turned until it was opposite Doctor Who, its long spear-shaped snout pointing directly at him.
Ian let go of Vicki and started forward, glaring. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
Two Zarbi reared and snatched at him, clamping their claws tight on him... Ian struggled and fought, raving, but was held mercilessly firm. Other Zarbi guards grabbed Vicki. She shrieked.
Doctor Who, backed up against the wall, stared helpless and a little unnerved at the venom grub’s snout which pointed implacably at him. Ian, still struggling, stared horrified.
‘Doctor!’ Vicki shrieked. ‘What are they doing? Please
—
no
!’ She lapsed into terrified sobbing. Doctor Who put up a trembling hand and summoned a smile for her.
‘Try not to be afraid, child,’ he said gently. ‘There’s nothing you can do.’
The Zarbi leader gave a sudden sharp gesture with its claw. At that, a spark crackled from the snout of the venom grub. Ian flinched.
Beside the Doctor’s head, the wall discoloured. It singed and then began to smoke.
Now the Zarbi directed the venom grub slowly. Its snout spat more sparks, and in obedience to the Zarbi’s directions, the smoking the discoloration on the wall moved upward, then across,... and finally downward —
until it had described a burned circle outlining the Doctor’s head against the wall.
Now the Zarbi leader paused and directed the venom grub away with a final gesture. It backed and retreated.
Doctor Who expelled a long breath. He managed an ashen smile.
Vicki went limp. Ian relaxed and ceased to struggle.
Doctor Who wagged his head wonderingly.
‘Hmm — yes... I must say, I did have my doubts for a moment — but I
thought
, or, er, at least, I
hoped
it would turn out to be... a demonstration only.’
‘What of, for goodness sake?’
‘Of their power,’ Doctor Who said simply. ‘That’s clearly what it was.’
‘But why bother?’ Ian protested. ‘They can do anything they like with us!’
Now the Zarbi leader confronted Doctor Who menacingly. It held up its foreclaw, chirruping harshly —
and pointed towards
Tardis
. Another Zarbi gestured again to the motionless venom grub, summoning it with a foreclaw, guiding it till the great armour-backed insect had wheeled to threaten Ian and Vicki; she caught her breath, clung to Ian, and called nervously ‘What do they want, Doctor?’
Ian said, frowning, ‘It looks as if they want something out of the ship.’
‘Yes. They don’t seem keen on going inside themselves.
Why, I wonder?’
The Zarbi leader gestured again, impatiently. This time it pointed at the venom grub, at Ian and Vicki, then again directed Doctor Who towards the ship. Doctor Who sighed, inclined his head obediently.
‘I must do as they say -- whatever that is. Otherwise.. He grimaced and smiled at them, and walked towards
Tardis
.
Ian and Vicki stared after him. Ian muttered, ‘Vicki —
what happened after we left to explore this place?’
Vicki put a hand to her head.
‘I’m... not sure. I was asleep. Then those noises started up, and the ship began rocking — horribly. I could see on the scanner they were dragging the ship away.’
Suddenly a thought struck Ian and he gripped Vicki by the arms.
‘I completely forgot!’ he said. He stared at Vicki.
‘Barbara! Where is she?’ He shook Vicki in a sudden fit of anxiety. ‘
Where’s... Barbara?
’
In the cave from which Barbara had fled, the Menoptera now held a worried council.
Vrestin stood up and paced back and forth, his magnificent wings folded.
‘I don’t think the earth girl will betray us,’ he declared.
‘Keep watch, Challis. We others must get a warning through.’
He moved to the wall of the cave, bent down and rolled a rock aside. Challis crept towards the mouth of the cave, peered outward and took up a watchful station there.
The fourth Menoptera, Zota, caught at Vrestin’s arm.
He said anxiously, ‘The Zarbi are all around. If we break communicator silence now, they will find us!’
Hrostar, Vrestin’s deputy, shook his head.
‘That we shall have to risk. Vrestin is right. We are unimportant, remember. We must get a message through.’
Vrestin was dragging a metal box out from behind the rock. Several dials shone on the face of the box, which was surmounted by an oddly shaped antenna.
He grunted. ‘Hrostar... help me with this...’
‘Use that and we shall be destroyed,’ Zota protested fearfully.
Vrestin straightened and turned. ‘If we do not contact our forces — it’s
they
who face destruction.’
Vrestin switched on the box. Two small bulbs glowed into life at the ends of the antennae. A low hum sounded from the set. Vrestin turned a dial.
‘We must warn them of the power we found on this planet,’ he muttered. ‘And the weaponry which faces them.
These Zarbi are organized in a way we could never have believed — if we hadn’t actually seen it...’
He clicked on another switch and bent towards the speaker panel in the set while Zota stared anxiously towards the cave entrance. Vrestin began calling.
‘Pilot party to Menoptera invasion force. Calling Menoptera spearhead.’
He flicked up a switch while he and Hrostar listened anxiously. Static speckled their reception, crackling harshly over the speaker, but otherwise there was no response.
Vrestin frowned, flipped back the speaker switch, and repeated, ‘Pilot party to Menoptera invasion force. Urgent reconnaissance report. Acknowledge please.’
They listened again. Hrostar shook his head doubtfully.
‘They are within reach of the enemy locators. They will not risk breaking communicator silence.’
‘They will,’ Vrestin declared. ‘They can bounce their signals to us off satellite Taron to mask their source.’ He repeated urgently into the speaker, ‘Menoptera spearhead!
Acknowledge reception!’
But only the familiar crackle of static answered them.
Hrostar got up.
‘It’s no use. The cave is blanking off our transmission.’
Vrestin rose too. ‘Yes,’ he muttered grimly. ‘We must send from the open.’
They stared at each other, realizing what that meant.
Operating a transmitter out in the open would invite certain discovery by the Zarbi. Vrestin looked towards the figures of Challis and Zota and wagged his head doubtfully over them.
‘We can only hope to get a message through before...’
Vrestin did not finish the sentence. From the cave mouth came a sudden yell from Challis.
‘Vrestin! Hrostar — the Zarbi...!’
Barbara stood at the entrance. A strange wishbone-shaped necklet encircled her throat. Her face was glazed and trance-like. On either side of her crowded the hated Zarbi, staring inward.
Vrestin lunged for the transmitter and hurled it against the cave wall with a mighty sweep, smashing it. Zota and Challis were backing before the advancing Zarbi, who pointed, directing the dazed Barbara ahead of them like a shield. Challis darted and picked up a rock. He poised this to hurl it among the Zarbi crowding forward. One of the Zarbi gestured with its claw.
A venom grub leaped forward with startling swiftness from between them. Its evil snout spat fire. Challis gave a high scream. The rock dropped from his hand and he reeled, clutching at his chest.
He collapsed to the cave floor and rolled there, twitching feebly. Smoke began to issue from his body.
Zota wheeled and shouted, ‘Captain Vrestin — run! Get away!’
Vrestin, farther back in the cave, hesitated. There was nothing else for it. He turned and darted away, halted, spotting a side tunnel, charged towards it as the venom grub fired again. At that, Zota lunged for the venom grub with a raised spar — but the fire caught him. He whirled and fell, smoke rose from his face and body, and suddenly he was still.
Barbara stared unseeingly at all this as though frozen into a statue.
Wisely now, Hrostar stood stock still. A Zarbi pointed at him. Its claw signed for him to join Barbara. He bowed his head and obeyed.
Several of the Zarbi moved forward, their claws making a scuttling noise on the floor of the cave as they headed for the smashed communicator and clustered around to examine its remains.
Hrostar looked at Barbara. He saw the necklet around her throat. With an eye on the Zarbi he reached and pulled it off. For a moment, while he held it, his own eyes dulled and he stood motionless. Then the necklet dropped from his nerveless fingers. He recovered.
Barbara was blinking as if awakening from a deep sleep.
She cowered suddenly at the sight of the Zarbi all around them in the cave. She felt Hrostar’s hand on her arm. He was sizing up the Zarbi, and said slowly, ‘I think we are safe... for the present...’
‘How did I get back here?’
Hrostar pointed down at the necklet he had dropped to the floor. ‘You were morphatized.’
She stared at the necklet, following his pointing finger.
‘I don’t... understand...’
‘The Zarbi can control anyone — even us, the Menoptera — who wear that metal.’
Barbara looked down at the necklet and her curiosity overcame her fear. She stooped furtively and reached out to examine it.
‘It’s gold..:’ she murmured.
‘Don’t touch it!’ Hrostar said hastily.
She withdrew her hand as if stung, and touched her wrist, remembering, wondering.
‘So my... bracelet...’ Barbara murmured. She got up, looked around. ‘Why don’t they put it back? Why don’t they put one on you?’
‘If they want us in a trance, they will.’
Barbara gave a gasp as she saw the bodies of Zota and Challis lying motionless on the ground. Hrostar moved to shield her from the sight.
‘They are... at peace,’ he said gently.
An angry chirruping had arisen around them from the Zarbi as their leader brought back the smashed communicator box. Now they crowded threateningly about Barbara and Hrostar, prodding them towards the cave mouth with their claws.
Barbara reached fearfully to cling to Hrostar’s arm.
‘Where will they take us?’ she whispered.
‘To the Crater of Needles, most probably.’
‘... and... then?’
Hrostar squared his shoulders, showing a glimpse of his beautiful wings. ‘Work,’ he said shortly. He turned for a brief farewell glance towards his fallen comrades, then looked grimly at Barbara.
He said, ‘Once there... you may well wish... they had not spared you...’
In the control room of the weird Zarbi Headquarters, Ian gripped Vicki’s arm reassuringly and watched Doctor Who wave his hands and attempt sign language with the Zarbi leader. The old man kept shaking his head while the Zarbi gestured impatiently towards the ship
Tardis
. Ian was puzzled.
‘It beats me why the Zarbi won’t go into the ship!’ he muttered.
Vicki pressed her temples. ‘They dare not,’ she said, and looked surprised at having said that. Ian turned to look at her.
‘Why not?’
Vicki waved her hand helplessly, trying to remember.
‘It was... rather like a dream. But I seem to remember that they tried. There was a flash. The two Zarbi were...
knocked backward. Or... did I just dream that...?’
Ian was looking at her intently. ‘But —
Tardis
has no defences! If what you say is true — they must have been repelled by something... of their own making...’
Ian broke off his guessing as a flashing from the control panel on the wall caught his eye. The Zarbi now remaining in the control room saw it too and stiffened attentively, their cruel heads turning towards the web-map on the wall
— where a cluster of lights on its outer perimeter glowed suddenly on and off. A speaker beneath the web-map issued a series of ‘pip’ sounds in time with their flashing.
‘Sounds like some sort of alert,’ Ian said, eyeing the alerted Zarbi.
‘Yes — radar of a kind. It’s not unlike the system we had on the Dido spaceship,’ Vicki said.
‘But – these venom grubs! The Zarbi use them as weapons! That means there must be other forms of life here, or they wouldn’t need them. Do they use these creatures to prey on others, or...’
Vicki finished the question Ian was asking himself. ‘– or to protect themselves?’ she said.
Immediately following the flashing lights and the ‘pip’
warnings, a loud burst of humming and chirruping broke out from the main speaker on the control wall. A huge light above it glared on.
The Zarbi reacted to that as to a command. They moved swiftly to surround Doctor Who – and propelled him roughly, urgently, towards the centre of the room. He resisted their violent handling, roaring, ‘Take your wretched claws off me, d’you hear? This minute!’
But the Zarbi ringed the Doctor and herded him into the centre of the room. There they held him. Doctor Who stared indignantly around him, ruffled and furious, until a sound from above made him look up, startled.
‘Bless my soul!’
A deep, saucer-shaped dome was descending towards him from the roof. Anxiously the Doctor tried to back away, but the Zarbi held him immovable. The huge Dome came lower, slowly now, until it closed over his head. It was transparent, but through it Doctor Who’s head and features were oddly distorted as though he stood in a fairground hall of mirrors.
The Doctor started and turned wonderingly as, seemingly out of nowhere, an alien voice boomed hollowly around him, inside the spiral of the Dome. The vowel sounds were distorted and echoing, and though the words were understandable, they did not issue from anything like a human throat.