032 - Doctor Who and the Horror of Fang Rock

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On a remote rocky island a few miles off the Channel

coast stands the Fang Rock lighthouse. There have

always been tales of the beast of Fang Rock, but when the

Tardis lands here with Leela and the Doctor, the force they

must deal with is more sinister and deadly than the

mythical beast of the past.

It is the early 1900s, electricity is just coming into

common usage, and the formless, gelatinous mass from

the future must use the lighthouse generators to recharge

its system. Nothing can stop this Rutan scout in its search

and its experimentation on humans...

ISBN 0 426 20009 8

DOCTOR WHO

AND THE

HORROR OF FANG ROCK

Based on the BBC television serial The Horror of Fang Rock by

Terrance Dicks by arrangement with the British Broadcasting

Corporation

TERRANCE DICKS

published by

The Paperback Division of

W. H. Allen & Co. Ltd

CONTENTS

Prologue

1 The Terror Begins

2 Strange Visitors

3 Shipwreck

4 The Survivors

5 Return of the Dead

6 Attack from the Unknown

7 The Enemy Within

8 The Bribe

9 The Chameleon Factor

10 The Rutan

11 Ambush

12 The Last Battle

A Target Book

Published in 1978

by the Paperback Division of W. H. Allen & Co. Ltd.

A Howard & Wyndham Company

44 Hill Street, London W1X 8LB

Corporation

Printed in Great Britain by

Richard Clay (The Chaucer Press) Ltd, Bungay, Suffolk

ISBN 0 426 20009 3

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of

trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated

without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or

cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar

condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent

purchaser.

Prologue

The Legend of Fang Rock

Fang Rock lighthouse, centre of a series of mysterious and

terrifying events at the turn of the century, is built on a rocky island a

few miles off the Channel coast. So small is the island that wherever

you stand its rocks are wet with sea-spray. Everywhere you hear the

endless thundering of the waves, as they crash on the jagged

coastline that has given Fang Rock its name.

The lighthouse tower is in the centre of the island. A steep

flight of steps leads up to the heavy door in its base. This gives entry

to the lower floor where the big steam-driven generator throbs

steadily away, providing power for the electric lantern. Coal bunkers

occupy the rest of this lower area.

Winding stairs lead up to the crew room, where the men eat,

sleep and spend most of their leisure time. Next to the crew room is a

tiny kitchen.

Above, more store rooms and the head keeper's private cabin,

and above them the service rooms, where tools and spare parts are

kept, together with rockets, maroons, flares and a variety of other

warning devices.

Finally, a short steep iron stairway leads up into the lamp

room, a glassed-in circular chamber at the very top of the tower,

dominated by the giant carbon-arc lamp with its gleaming glass

prisms.

Fang Rock has had an evil reputation from its earliest days.

Soon after it was built two men died in mysterious circumstances,

and a third went mad with fear. There have been strange rumours,

stories of a great glowing beast that comes out of the sea...

But all is forgotten now. It is the early 1900s, and the age of

science is in full swing. Newly converted from oil to electricity, Fang

Rock lighthouse stands tall and strong, the great shining lantern

warning ships away from the jagged reefs around the little island.

As night falls one fine autumn evening the lamp is burning

steadily. The three men who make up the crew go peacefully about

their duties, unaware of the night of horror that lies before them, little

knowing that they would soon be caught up in a strange and terrible

conflict, with the fate of the Earth itself as the final stake.

The Terror Begins

It began with a light in the sky. It was dusk, and the lamp had

just been lit. High up in the lamp room all was calm and peaceful, no

sound except for the steady roar of the sea below. Young Vince saw

it first. He was polishing the great telescope on the lamp-room

gallery when he saw a fiery streak blazing across the darkness.

Through the telescope, he tracked its progress as it curved down

through the evening sky and into the sea. For a moment the sea

glowed brightly at the point of impact. The glow faded, and

everything was normal.

Vince turned away from the telescope. 'Reuben! Come and

look—quick now!'

With his usual aggravating deliberation the old man finished

filling an oil-lamp. 'What is it now, boy?'

'There was this light, shot across the sky. Went under the sea it

did, and the sea was all glowing. Over there.'

Old Reuben rose stiffly, hobbled across to the telescope and

peered through the eyepiece. 'Nothing there now.'

'I told you, it went into the sea.'

Reuben grunted. 'Could have been a what d'you call 'em... a

meteor...'

He left the telescope and Vince took his place, scanning the

area of sea where the fireball had vanished. 'Whatever it was it come

down pretty near us...'

'Sight-seeing are we?' asked a sarcastic voice. 'Hoping to spot

some of them bathing belles on the beach?'

Guiltily Vince jumped away from the telescope. Ben Travers,

senior keeper and engineer of Fang Rock lighthouse, was regarding

him sardonically from the doorway. He was a tough, weathered man

in his fifties, stern-faced but not without his own dour humour.

Reuben chuckled. 'Young Vince here's been seeing stars.'

Vince reddened under Ben's sceptical stare. 'I saw a light,

anyway. Clear across the sky it came, and down into into the sea.'

'Must have been a shooting star, eh?'

'Weren't no shooting star,' said Vince obstinately. 'Seen them

before I have. This was—different.'

'Get on with you,' cackled Reuben. 'That were a shooting star,

right enough. Bring you luck, boy, that will. Bit of luck coming to

you.' 'What, on this old rock? Not till my three months is up!'

Keepers worked three months at a stretch, followed by an off-duty

month on shore.

Ben went to the telescope. But there was nothing to be seen but

the steady swell of the sea. 'Well, whatever it was it's gone now. As

long as it's not a hazard to navigation, it's no business of ours.'

That's Ben for you, thought Vince. Duty first, last and all the

time. 'I saw it, though,' he persisted. 'It was all glowing...'

'I've heard enough about it, lad. Just you forget it and get on

with your work. I'm going down to supper. Coming, Reuben?'

Ben went down the steps, and Reuben followed. Vince

returned to polishing the brass mounting of the telescope. He stared

out at the dark, rolling sea. 'All the same,' he muttered, 'I know what I

saw...'

It surfaced from the depths of the sea and scanned the

surrounding area with many-faceted eyes. Just ahead was a small,

jagged land mass. Crowning it was a tall slender tower with a light

on top that flashed at regular intervals. Clearly there were intelligent

life-forms on the island. They must be studied, and eventually

disposed of, it thought weakly.

It had been severely shaken by the crash, and its energy-levels

were dangerously low. The bright flashing light meant power—and it

desperately needed power to restore its failing strength. It had

already taken precautionary measures to conceal its presence and

isolate the island. Slowly it moved through the sea towards the

lighthouse.

In the cosy, familiar warmth of the crew room Ben and Reuben

were dealing with plates of stew, and continuing their never-ending

argument.

Reuben swallowed a mouthful of dumpling. 'Now in the old

days it was all simple enough. You filled her up and trimmed the

wick. That old lamp just went on burning away steady as you please.'

'Wasn't only the lamp burned sometimes. How many oil fires

were there in those days, eh? Towers gutted, men killed...'

'Carelessness, that is. Carelessness, or drink. Oil's safe enough

if you treat her right.'

'Listen, Reuben, I've been inside a few of those old

lighthouses. Like the inside of a chimney. Grease and soot

everywhere, floor covered with oil and bits of wick.'

'Never, mate, never!'

Ben was well into his stride by now. 'And as for the light! You

couldn't see it inside, let alone out. Clouds of black smoke as soon as

the lamp was lit.'

Reuben changed his ground. 'All right, then, if electricity's so

good, why are they going back to oil then, tell me that?'

Ben groaned. They'd been over this hundreds of times, but

Reuben couldn't—or wouldn't—understand. 'That's an oil-vapour

system, different thing altogether. They reckon it's cheaper.'

'Well of course it's cheaper,' grumbled Reuben. 'By the time

you've ferried out all that coal for your generators..

There was a whistle from the speaking-tube on the wall.

Reuben got up, unhooked the receiver and bellowed, 'Ahoy!'

Vince snatched his ear from the receiver and winced. Reuben

always bellowed so loud he hardly needed the tube. He put the tube

to his lips and said, 'That you, Reuben?'

He held the tube to his ear and grinned at the reply that sizzled

from the tube. 'Oh, it's King Edward himself, is it? Well, your

majesty, be kind enough to tell the principal keeper as there's a fog

coming up like nobody's business.' His voice became more serious.

'Funny looking fog it is too. I never seen anything like it.'

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OnaremoterockyislandafewmilesofftheChannelcoaststandstheFangRocklighthouse.TherehavealwaysbeentalesofthebeastofFangRock,butwhentheTardislandsherewithLeelaandtheDoctor,theforcetheymustdealwithismoresinisteranddeadlythanthemythicalbeastofthepast.Itistheearly1900s,electricityisjustcomingintocommonusage...

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