008 - Doctor Who and the Carnival of Monsters

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The Doctor and Jo land on a cargo ship crossing the

Indian Ocean in the year 1926.

Or so they think.

Far away on a planet called Inter Minor, a travelling

showman is setting up his live peepshow, watched by an

eager audience of space officials...

On board ship, a giant hand suddenly appears, grasps the

Tardis and withdraws. Without warning, a prehistoric

monster rises from the sea to attack...

What is happening? Where are they? Only the Doctor

realises, with horror, that they might be trapped...

ISBN 0 426 11025 0

DOCTOR WHO

AND THE CARNIVAL

OF MONSTERS

Based on the BBC television serial The Carnival of Monsters by

Robert Holmes by arrangement with the British Broadcasting

Corporation

TERRANCE DICKS

published by

The Paperback Division of

W. H. Allen & Co. Ltd

CONTENTS

1 Dangerous Arrivals

2 The Monster from the Sea

3 The Giant Hand

4 Trapped!

5 Inside the Machine

6 The Monster in the Swamp

7 'Nothing Escapes the Drashigs'

8 The Battle on the Ship

9 Kalik Plans Rebellion

10 The Doctor Takes Over

11 Return to Peril

12 The End of the Scope

A Target Book

Published in 1977

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

Cox & Wyman Ltd, Reading

ISBN 0426 11025 0

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.

Dangerous Arrivals

With a strange groaning sound, the blue police box appeared

from nowhere. A very small, very pretty fair-haired girl came out,

and looked cautiously around. She was in a dimly-lit, metal-walled

enclosure, and the air was full of strange smells...

A tall white-haired man, elegant in velvet smoking jacket and

ruffled shirt, followed her out of the police box locking the door

behind him. 'I tell you there's no need to be suspicious, Jo. I've been

here before and the air's perfectly...' he sniffed, '... fresh! ' he

concluded, on a rather less certain note.

Jo Grant looked indignantly at the Doctor. Really she'd only

herself to blame. After the terrifying adventure of the Three

Doctors,* the Time Lords, the Doctor's mysterious and all-powerful

superiors, had rewarded him by restoring his ability to travel in Time

and space in the TARDIS. As eager as a child with a new toy, the

Doctor had persuaded Jo to accompany him on what he called 'a little

test flight' to a very attractive-sounding planet named Metebelis

Three.

Jo looked around her. 'Lakes like blue sapphires, he says,' she

muttered. 'Jewelled deserts and mountains of blue crystal, he says...'

She turned back to the Doctor. 'It's hot, it's dark and it smells!'

The Doctor sniffed. No doubt about it, she was right. 'That's

very odd...'

'Sort of farmy,' added Jo.

The Doctor sniffed again, and subjected the evidence of his

nose to a rapid analysis. 'Nothing to worry about. Gaseous sulphides

in a fairly low concentration.' He rubbed his chin. 'Very odd, that, Jo.

I assure you, the last time I was here, the air was like wine.'

Jo gave him another look. 'Doctor, are you sure we're where

you think we are? Can you really drive the TARDIS properly without

the Time Lords helping you?'

* See 'Doctor Who - The Three Doctors'

'My dear Jo,' said the Doctor huffily. 'I don't drive the

TARDIS, I programme it. And, according to programme, this is

Metebelis Three, famous blue planet of the Acteon galaxy.'

Before Jo could reply, she became aware of a steady thump,

thump, thump, filling the air around them. 'We're in some kind of a

machine,' she said. 'And it's moving!'

'You're right. Well, come on.'

Jo hung back. 'Where are we going?'

'To find out where we are.'

'I thought you knew that?'

'Well, I do. I just want to convince you, that's all!'

They picked their way through the semidarkness, which

seemed to be filled with mysteriously-shaped lumpy objects, most of

them with sharp edges. There was a sudden flurry ahead, and Jo

clutched the Doctor's arm. 'Something moved!'

The sounds died down and they pressed cautiously on. They

came to a wooden pen, with feathered shapes clucking inside. Jo

laughed. 'Look—it's chickens! '

Solemnly the Doctor bowed before the cage. 'Greetings! We

come as friends.'

'Doctor, what are you doing?'

'When you've travelled as much as I have, Jo, you'll learn not

to jump to conclusions. These look like chickens, but they could be

the dominant life-forms on this planet.' The Doctor leaned over the

pen. 'Greetings,' he said again. There was no reply.

'Try clucking,' suggested Jo. Before he could reply she went

on, 'Doctor, those things not only look like chickens, they are

chickens. And what about this?'

She pointed to the side of a near-by crate. The Doctor looked.

Despite the gloom it was possible to make out the stencilled capital

letters. They read, 'SINGAPORE'.

'The Acteon Galaxy, you said?'

Taken aback, but not yet defeated, the Doctor looked round.

Near by, a ladder led up into the darkness above them. 'Come on, Jo,'

he said, and started to climb.

Shaking her head at his obstinacy, Jo followed, pausing only to

say a quick 'Good-bye! ' at the chickens. They clucked back at her.

At the top of the ladder was a hatch. The Doctor lifted it.

Behind him on the ladder Jo peered through the gap. She saw

decking, a rail, more cargo-hatches—and an Indian seaman in shabby

overalls walking past. 'Metebelis be blowed,' she whispered. 'This is

just an ordinary old cargo-ship, Doctor. You've landed us back on

Earth.'

As the terrifying adventure which followed was to prove, Jo

had never been more wrong in her life. Meanwhile, more arrivals

were taking place...

The Spaceport of Capital City, on the planet called Inter

Minor, was baking in the heat of the planet's twin suns. It was a busy

colourful scene as the massive cargo-rockets loaded and unloaded in

their separate bays. Ground cars and cargo-trains scurried to and fro

like ants at the feet of the towering metal mountains of the great

space-rockets. Cursing and sweating, the Functionaries worked

steadily away, loading and unloading the cargo.

Capital City was in the middle of a boom. By decree of

President Zarb, the planet's new ruler, Inter Minor had emerged from

its long self-imposed seclusion, and was busily trading with the other

planets in its galaxy. Many years ago, the planet had been ravaged by

Space Plague, brought in by a traveller from some foreign planet. In

a hysterical over-reaction, the Inter Minorans had cut themselves off

completely from all other planets, forbidding both travel and

commerce. After years of bitter political struggle, the new

progressive party, led by President Zarb, had come to power, and

Inter Minor had opened up its frontiers.

President Zarb hoped by this measure to relieve some of the

pressures on Minoran society. His other plans included a gradual

improvement in the lot of the Functionaries. This meant persuading

the Official caste to give up some of their many privileges—an

undertaking which was provoking bitter resistance.

The strangest thing of all about this strange world of Inter

Minor was the fact that its people had been divided for so long into

two different social classes that they had gradually evolved into two

different species.

The largest class was that of the Functionaries. They were

short and stocky with coarse, lumpy, unfinishedfeatures. They looked

as if they'd been slapped together out of rough clay, by a rather poor

sculptor. They wore rough serviceable clothing in heavy-duty plastic.

Their purpose, their function was to work. Work, food and sleep, that

was a Functionary's life. For generations they had accepted this fate

uncomplainingly. But now things were beginning to change...

Then there was the ruling caste—the Officials. They were

mostly tall and thin, grey-faced and grey-robed. Grey-minded too,

for the main part. The Officials' code insisted on rigid formality with

all display of emotion totally suppressed. They were the Officials,

rulers by right and custom. Not all, of course, had utterly closed

minds. President Zarb and his supporters were aware of the necessity

for change. But the bulk of the Officials were set in their old ways.

They had accepted Zarb only because they hoped he would save

them from revolution.

A thunderous rumble shook the Spaceport as yet another

cargo-rocket descended slowly on to its pad. As soon as touchdown

was complete, a cargo-shute was connected to its main hatch, and an

assortment of goods began tumbling down, to be seized by waiting

Functionaries, hurled on to cargo-trains and driven from the

Spaceport.

From a viewing ramp, two Officials watched the process with

gloomy disdain. Their names were Kalik and Orum. Kalik's bored

manner concealed fierce intelligence and burning ambition, while

Orum's masked only complacent foolishness. Kalik was small and

wiry, while Orum had a tendency to plumpness.

It was Kalik who spoke first. 'The cargo-rocket we were

ordered to meet has arrived.' Like all Officials, he had no inhibitions

about stating the obvious.

Orum nodded gravely. 'One must prepare oneself to go and

encounter these—aliens.' The last word came out as a hiss of distaste.

Kalik sighed. 'Reluctantly, one agrees.'

The two grey figures began descending the ramp into the

teeming confusion of the Spaceport.

Meanwhile, something very strange was happening at the

unloading rocket. On the cargo-shute had appeared two unmistakably

humanoid figures. Arms and legs waving wildly they tumbled down

the shute with the other containers. At the bottom they scrambled to

their feet, waving away the Functionaries, who looked quite capable

of loading them on to a cargo-train without a second glance.

First to reach the ground was a middle-aged, middle-sized

humanoid clad in tattered golden finery. Boots, tunic, tights and

cloak had all once been magnificent, but like their wearer had seen

better days. The humanoid, by race a Lurman, by name, Vorg, dusted

himself down, gazing around him with keen alert eyes under fierce

bushy eyebrows, and stroking an equally bushy moustache.

Beside him a moment later landed Shirna, an attractive young

female Lurman. Her clothes too were ornate but worn, and the many

neat darns and patches showed a desperate attempt to keep up

appearances.

Shirna hit the ground in a flaming temper. Never a girl to hide

her feelings she lost no time in letting Vorg know it.

'Top of the bill, he says!' she cried dramatically, looking round

at the hot and dusty Spaceport. 'Treated like a star, he says!'

Shirna drew a deep breath. She had plenty more to say. Before

she could get into her stride Vorg yelled, 'Oh no, the Scope! ' A

gaudily decorated cylindrical object was tumbling down the chute

with the other cargo. Vorg pushed aside a Functionary, caught hold

of the Scope and started lowering it gently to the ground. 'Come on,

Shirna, help me,' he yelled. 'This thing's our living, remember.'

Between them they managed to wrestle the Scope off the chute

and over to a small alcove under one of the ramps. The Scope was a

tallish, fattish cylinder just under the size of a man. On top was an

elaborate control-panel, inset with rows of lights and switches.

Viewing apertures were inset at eye-level all round. There was a

maintenance and service panel low on one side. Flashy colours and

elaborate ornamentation gave the Scope the look of something

between a juke-box and a 'What The Butler Saw' machine. And

indeed, the Scope was a kind of peepshow—though of a very

elaborate and unusual kind.

Like its owners, the Scope had an air of seedy magnificence

about it. It was a technological wonder that had come down in the

world. Vorg was checking it over—it was a temperamental machine

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摘要：

TheDoctorandJolandonacargoshipcrossingtheIndianOceanintheyear1926.Orsotheythink.FarawayonaplanetcalledInterMinor,atravellingshowmanissettinguphislivepeepshow,watchedbyaneageraudienceofspaceofficials...Onboardship,agianthandsuddenlyappears,graspstheTardisandwithdraws.Withoutwarning,aprehistoricmonste...

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