089 - Doctor Who - Inferno

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Inferno is the name of a top-secret project to penetrate the

Earth’s crust and release a major new energy source.

A crisis develops when a noxious liquid leaks out as

drilling progresses - the green poison has a grotesquely

debilitating effect on human beings.

As the Earth’s plight worsens, the Doctor is trapped in a

parallel world, unable to rescue the planet and its

inhabitants from the destructive force of Inferno...

ISBN 0 426 19617 1

DOCTOR WHO

INFERNO

Based on the BBC television serial by Don Houghton by

arrangement with the British Broadcasting Corporation

TERRANCE DICKS

Number 89

in the

Doctor Who Library

A TARGET BOOK

published by

The Paperback Division of

W. H. Allen & Co. PLC

A Target Book

Published in 1984

by the Paperback Division of

W.H. Allen & Co. PLC

44 Hill Street, London W1X 8LB

First published in Great Britain by

W.H. Allen & Co. PLC 1984

Corporation 1970, 1984

Printed and bound in Great Britain by

Hunt Barnard Printing Ltd, Aylesbury, Bucks.

ISBN 0 426 19617 1

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.

CONTENTS

1 Project Inferno

2 The Beast

3 Mutant

4 The Slime

5 Dimension of Terror

6 The Nightmare

7 Death Sentence

8 Countdown to Doom

9 Penetration-Zero

10 The Monsters

11 Escape Plan

12 Doomsday

13 Return to Danger

14 The Last Mutation

15 The Doctor Takes a Trip

Project Inferno

It was the greatest scientific project that England had

ever known. More technologically advanced than nuclear

power. Potentially, far more lucrative than North Sea Oil. The

Stahlman project. Or as those who worked on it called it - the

Inferno.

An audacious scheme to drill through to the untapped

energy-sources at the Earth’s core. Unimaginable, unending

heat. A fuel gas that would power every home, every shop,

every factory in Britain. Limitless free energy for everyone.

That was the promise, and the Government, hypnotised

by the force and conviction of Professor Stahlman’s

arguments, dazzled by the prospect of economic problems

solved forever, poured money and resources into the project.

There was a sort of unspoken agreement—the Stahlman

project had to succeed.

Now the project was nearing completion.

Hungry for the long-awaited success, the authorities

were deaf to the steadily increasing warnings about the

project’s dangers—dangers that might, just conceivably,

involve the end of the world.

Some of these warnings came from the unpaid,

unofficial Scientific Adviser to the organisation responsible for

project security, an organisation called UNIT—the United

Nations Intelligence Taskforce.

He was an odd-looking fellow, this Scientific Adviser, tall

and thin and beaky-nosed with a old/young face and a mane

of prematurely white hair. He dressed oddly too, in ruffled

shirt and elegant velvet smoking-jacket, the ensemble

completed by a long, flowing cape.

The strangest thing of all was that he didn’t seem to

have a name. He was known only as the Doctor...

Singing ‘La donna é mobile’ in a loud, cheerful and rather

tuneless voice, the Doctor drove Bessie, his converted,

souped-up Edwardian roadster, through the sprawling

complex of low buildings surrounded by storage towers,

gantries, access roads and railway-lines that made up the

Stahlman project.

It was a messy, unattractive-looking area, the site of a

now-disused oil refinery. Some of the buildings and facilities

had been taken over by Stahlman and his team, others left

derelict. Dominating everything were two brand new

structures. One was the massive, metallically gleaming drill

tower, housing the drill which was now boring its way

relentlessly to the centre of the earth Its steady roar could be

heard all over the project area. Not far away was the low

concrete bunker containing the nuclear reactor. The drilling

needed colossal amounts of power.

Considering the fact that he regarded the entire project

as a ridiculous and very dangerous waste of money, and that

he had a positive distaste for Professor Stahlman, its Director,

the Doctor was in a remarkably jovial mood. These were still

the early days of his exile to the planet Earth by the Time

Lords. He still had hopes of evading their sentenee and

getting his somewhat erratic space/rime craft, the TARDIS,

operational again. For that, he would need power—and the

Stahlman project had power to burn.

‘La donna é mobile,’ carolled the Doctor cheerfully.

‘Dee-dah-dah dum-dah-dah!’ Waving to a passing technician,

the Doctor drove on.

The technician was a drill-head rigger called Harry

Slocum. Returning the Doctor’s wave, he got off his bike,

parked it and lugged his tool-box over to the main control

centre.

In the doorway he ran into one of his mates, a

technician called Bromley.

Slocum raised his voice above the sound of the drill.

‘Hullo, John, how’s it going in there?’

Bromley shrugged. ‘Still drilling away!’

‘You make it sound like the dentists!’ said Slocum

cheerfully. He made his way in to main control and stood

looking around him.

The huge control-room had its usual air of remorseless,

almost robotic efficiency. White-coated technicians moved

purposefully amongst the instrument banks that lined the

walls, constantly checking readings and adjusting power-

levels. The far end of the room was dominated by the giant

computer, which, in theory, guided and monitored every

stage of the drilling operation. Close by was the countdown

indicator, a digital clock indicating the time left before

estimated penetration. As Slocum entered the room, the

indicator read 72:18:35. Seventy two hours, eighteen minutes

and thirty-five seconds.

Gazing worriedly up at the indicator was a plumpish

bespectacled man in a business suit and a mildly incongruos

bow-tie. This was Sir Keith Gold, Executive Director of the

project.

Slocum made his way over to him. ‘Excuse me, Sir

Keith? You asked for someone from Maintenance?’

‘Yes, indeed. Thank you for coming so promptly. I want

you to have a look at number 2 output, if you would be so

good.’

Slocum smiled, tickled a always by Sir Keith’s old-

fashioned politeness. ‘On the blink is she?’

‘I’ve had it taken out of service—we’ve switched over to

1 and 3.’

‘Right you are. Let’s take a look.’

Sir Keith led the way to the tunnel that connected main

control to the separate drill-head section. This was a smaller

area, starkly metallic and functional, with a control console set

into one wall. In the centre, surrounded by a low metal

rampart, was colossal semi-transparent tube that ran from

floor to ceiling. It was surrounded by a complex of power

cables and metal pipes that ran from the base of the central

column and disappeared into the floor. The output pipes

sucked up and cleared away the debris thrown up by the

robot drill-head, now almost twenty miles beneath their feet.

Slocum went over to number 2 output and knelt to

examine it. The massive metal pipe was made up of jointed

seasons and one of the sections had buckled slightly, causing a

tiny gap to appear.

Slocum straightened up. ‘Okay, I’ll fix it.’

‘As quickly as possible, if you please. Professor Stahlman

doesn’t want any delay.’

‘Don’t worry about it, Sir Keith. Doesn’t look too

serious.’

Sir Keith nodded his thanks and turned away - then

froze as he saw a burly figure glowering at him from the

entrance of the tunnel. Professor Stahlman wore a crisp white

lab coat over a dark suit not unlike Sir Keith’s own. Somehow,

with Stahlman the effect was stiffly formal, almost military.

Yet at the same time there was something almost primitive

about the man’s bulky broad-shouldered body and massive

close-cropped head, the neatly trimmed beard thrust

aggressively forwards. He looked like a gorilla in a lab coat,

reflected Sir Keith, immediately ashamed of the uncharitable

thought. He braced himself for the coming encounter.

Somehow a meeting with Stahlman always was an

encounter—a confrontation.

Stahlman’s voice was unexpectedly mild. ‘Ah, Sir Keith.

Why has the drilling rate been slowed down?’

‘Number 2 output pipe is out of service,’ said Sir Keith

defensively. ‘Naturally we had to decelerate, since...’

‘I do understand the technical problems, Sir Keith,’

interrupted Stahlman silkily.

‘Naturally, I didn’t mean to imply otherwise...’

‘What I do not understand is why you took it upon

yourself to interfere.’ Stahlman’s voice suddenly lashed out,

like a whip.

Sir Keith flushed. ‘I saw the report of the malfunction

some time ago. When I saw no report of its repair, I assumed

that you had overlooked...’

‘I overlook nothing, Sir Keith. The malfunction is not

sufficiently serious to warrant a deceleration of the drilling

rate-and you have no authority to order one.’

‘As Executive Director of this project—‘

‘As Executive Director of the project, Sir Keith, your

concern is with such vital matters as the facilities of the

canteen and the new duty-roster for the cleaners. Anything to

do with drilling is my concern, and mine alone. And that

includes minor maintenance problems.’

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摘要：

Infernoisthenameofatop-secretprojecttopenetratetheEarth’scrustandreleaseamajornewenergysource.Acrisisdevelopswhenanoxiousliquidleaksoutasdrillingprogresses-thegreenpoisonhasagrotesquelydebilitatingeffectonhumanbeings.AstheEarth’splightworsens,theDoctoristrappedinaparallelworld,unabletorescuetheplane...

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