059 - Doctor Who and the Stones of Blood

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Chanting, hooded figures gather inside a ring of ancient

stones, using rituals of blood sacrifice to awaken the

sleeping evil of the Ogri.

The Doctor and Romana go from the countryside of present

day England to a deep-space cruiser trapped in hyperspace

in their attempt to track down an alien criminal, and unravel

the mystery of the Stones of Blood.

Luckily they have the help of the faithful K9...

‘Terrance Dicks is a skilful professional story-teller... He has

deftly recaptured the programme’s popular blend of hectic

menace and humourous self-mockery.’

BRITISH BOOK NEWS

ISBN 0 426 20099 3

DOCTOR WHO

AND THE

STONES OF BLOOD

Based on the BBC television serial by David Fisher by

arrangement with the British Broadcasting Corporation

TERRANCE DICKS

A TARGET BOOK

published by

The Paperback Division of

W. H. Allen & Co. Ltd

A Target Book

Published in 1980

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

A Howard & Wyndham Company

44 Hill Street, London W1X 8LB

Broadcasting Corporation

Printed and bound in Great Britain by

Anchor Brendon Ltd, Tiptree, Essex

ISBN 0 426 20099 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.

CONTENTS

1 The Awakening of the Ogri

2 The Circle of Power

3 De Vries

4 The Sacrifice

5 The Ogri Attack

6 The Cailleach

7 The Vanished

8 The Prison Ship

9 The Victims

10 The Trial

11 Surprise Witness

12 Verdict

The Awakening of the Ogri

It might have been Stonehenge in the days of the Druids. A

Circle of Stones stood in a hollow on the dark and lonely plain.

Nine massive monoliths set in an irregular circle. One or two

tilted, leaning, others still standing foursquare. Only three of the

crosspieces were still in place, the others had crashed to the

ground long centuries ago.

White-robed hooded figures were gathered in the circle,

blazing torches in their hands. The fitful light flickered smokily

on rapt, shadowed faces, reflected a red glare into glittering

eyes.

A low, sonorous chant rose into the night air. ‘Cailleach...

Cailleach... Cailleach...’

The chant rose higher. One of the hooded figures raised a

long bronze horn and blew a deep throbbing note that shivered

on the night air.

Two more hooded shapes came forward, each bearing a

bronze bowl.

The bowls were filled with blood.

One of the fallen monoliths formed a kind of altar in the

centre of the Circle. The bowls were placed reverently on this

stone. Dark clouds scuddered wind-blown across the full moon.

The chanting rose higher, higher, ‘Cailleach! Cailleach! Cailleach!’

The robed figure of the High Priestess lifted one of the

bowls and carried it to the nearest monolith. Carefully, she

tipped the bowl so that the thick stream poured onto the stone.

The blood should have run straight down the side of the

monolith... it did not. Most of it was absorbed, as if swallowed by

the stone. It was as though the stone itself was thirsty for blood.

From deep within the monolith there was a fiery glow. A deep,

throbbing groaning sound shuddered through the ground.

The High Priestess returned to the altar and lifted the

second bowl. She carried it to another monolith, and poured

again. The great stone soaked up the blood and glowed fierily in

response. A throbbing groan like the note of some impossibly

deep bell vibrated through the earth.

A great sigh of ecstasy went up from the worshipping circle.

The Priestess returned to the altar stone and stretched out

her arms. Her high, clear voice rang through the circle. ‘Come,

oh great one, come. Your time is near!’

It might have been Stonehenge in the dark dawn of history.

The circle of stones was smaller, more compact.

The worshippers wore modern clothes beneath their robes.

But the forces upon which they were calling were more dark

and dreadful than any summoned up by chanting Druids.

Fed by the warm blood they craved, the Ogri were

awakening from their long sleep.

A police box which was not a police box at all sped through the

space/time vortex. Inside it was an impossibly large control room

with a many-sided central control console. Beside it stood a tall

curly-haired man in a floppy broad-brimmed hat, and long

trailing scarf, that mysterious traveller in time and space known

as the Doctor. He had an irregularly-shaped crystal in his left

hand. another in his right.

‘Right. Doctor,’ he said briskly to himself. ‘Here we have two

segments of the Key to Time. Just fit them together, and you can

get on with finding number three.’ He brought the two segments

together. They wouldn’t fit.

The Doctor frowned. Then his face cleared. ‘Ah, I see, they

go this way.’ He tried again. They didn’t.

Romana, the Doctor’s Time Lady companion, came into the

control room and stood watching him. ‘Here, let me do it.’

‘Just a minute, I can manage.’ The Doctor tried again. He

couldn’t.

‘I wish you’d let me help. I used to be rather good at

puzzles.’

‘Puzzles?’ The Doctor was outraged. ‘These are two

segments of the Key to Time, possibly the most important object

in the cosmos. You don’t call that a mere puzzle, do you?’

‘Well, no, not really.’ Romana took the two crystals from the

Doctor’s hands, studied them for a moment, then fitted them

together. Immediately, they merged into an irregularly-shaped

larger crystal, as if magnetised by some interior force. Romana

handed the result back to the Doctor. ‘There. Hardly complex

enough to be called a puzzle, is it?’

‘No, no,’ said the Doctor, recovering rapidly. ‘That was the

trouble. It was just too simple for me!’ He went over to a

specially prepared wall-locker, opened it, put the crystal inside,

closed it again. The locker was one of the most sophisticated wall

safes in the universe and only the Doctor’s personal palm print

would re-open it.

‘I gather that there are six of those segments to be found.

Doctor, and so far we’ve only got two. Shouldn’t we be getting a

move on? Why don’t you go and check our next destination?’

There were times when Romana’s brisk bossiness infuriated

the Doctor. ‘This happens to be my TARDIS. I’ll make the

decisions here, if you don’t mind.’

Romana gave him a withering look. ‘Please yourself.’

‘It just so happens I’ve decided to find out what our next

destination will be,’ said the Doctor with dignity.

Plugged into the central control console was a small,

wandlike device called the Tracer. In conjunction with the

TARDIS’s instruments. the Tracer was supposed to determine

the location in the universe of the next segment of the Key to

Time. It could even lead them to the exact spot on the planet

where the next crystal could be found. At least, that was the idea.

The Doctor studied the instrument readings. ‘Well, well,

well! If my calculations are correct, there’s a treat in store for

you.’

‘Really?’ said Romana coldly. So far she hadn’t been very

impressed by the Doctor’s predictions. ‘Better than Calufrax, I

hope?’

Calufrax was the last planet they had visited; Romana hadn’t

cared for it at all.

‘Much better than Calufrax. You’ll love it, Romana. I

promise you you’ll love it’

‘Really? If we are going to be arriving soon, I’d better

change.’

She went out of the control room and the Doctor went back

to studying his instruments.

Some time later, Romana came back into the control room.

She ssas wearing a simple classical dress and a pair of

extravagantly high-heeled shoes. ‘Well. how do I look?’

The Doctor smiled, pleased to see that even Romana wasn’t

completely without vanity. ‘Ravishing!’

‘That’s not what I meant, Doctor,’ said Romana severely. ‘I

mean, will this outfit do for where we’re going?’

‘It’ll do very nicely I should think—except for those shoes.’

Romana looked down. ‘Oh, I rather like them.’

‘Well, please yourself, I’m no fashion expert. But they don’t

look very practical.’

Romana sniffed and went out of the control room. Minutes

later she came back, a pair of lower-heeled shoes in her hands.

‘What about these, Doctor?’

Before the Doctor could reply, a deep mysterious voice

boomed through the control room. ‘Beware the Black

Guardian!’

‘What was that, Doctor? What does it mean?’

‘It was by way of being a reminder—a warning to remember

our mission and not waste time with fripperies.’

Hurriedly, Romana hung the shoes on the TARDIS

hatstand. ‘I wish I knew what you were talking about, Doctor.

I’ve a feeling I don’t really know what’s going on.’

‘If you were meant to know any more you’d have been told.’

‘I need to know more about our mission, Doctor. After all,

suppose something happened to you?’

‘Something happen to me?’ The Doctor considered. ‘Well,

perhaps you’re right, it isn’t really fair.’

‘I should think it isn’t! I was ordered to join you by the

President of the Supreme Council of the Time Lords, told to

help you in some mysterious mission...’

The Doctor sighed, wondering how he could explain

everything to Romana. ‘Well, for a start, you weren’t sent on this

mission by the President at all. The voice you just heard, and the

being you saw in the shape of the President was the White

Guardian. Or, to be more accurate, the Guardian of Light in

Time. As opposed to the Guardian of Darkness sometimes called

the Black Guardian. You’ve heard of the Guardians?’

Romana nodded, awestruck. Every Time Lord had heard of

the Guardians though little was known about them. They were

two of the most powerful beings in the cosmos, infinitely more

advanced than even the Time Lords.

‘Then you know that they can assume any shape they wish?

Well, so can the segments of the Key to Time.’

‘But why was the Key divided in the first place?’

‘The Key to Time is so powerful that it must never pass into

the hands of one single being,’ said the Doctor solemnly. ‘That is

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Chanting,hoodedfiguresgatherinsidearingofancientstones,usingritualsofbloodsacrificetoawakenthesleepingeviloftheOgri.TheDoctorandRomanagofromthecountrysideofpresentdayEnglandtoadeep-spacecruisertrappedinhyperspaceintheirattempttotrackdownanaliencriminal,andunravelthemysteryoftheStonesofBlood.Luckilyt...

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