Doctor Who: The Seeds of Doom by Philip Hinchcliffe Page B

doorway, and moments later re-emerged, smiling malevolently. He closed the heavy door and vanished silently into the shadows. Within seconds a strange, muffled noise penetrated the door, like a heavy machine whirling into action, or a hungry monster devouring its prey.
    â€˜Any hope, Doctor?’ Sarah peered anxiously at the tangle of wires.
    â€˜Chase didn’t do any irreparable damage. I’ve nearly fixed it.’
    â€˜Well done, Doctor,’ sneered Scorby. He was huddled on the floor like a man who had given up all hope. ‘Why are you bothering? It’s obvious your Army friends have scarpered. We’re as dead as mutton.’
    â€˜Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Scorby,’ said the Doctor, eyeing him distastefully.
    Suddenly, the whole room gave a lurch, the radio shot out of the Doctor’s hands and large pieces of masonry fell from the ceiling, smothering them all in a choking white dust.
    â€˜This looks like the final attack,’ whispered the Doctor.
    Scorby, sweating with fear, glanced towards the door.
    â€˜Don’t be a fool, Scorby,’ said the Doctor, guessing his intention. ‘Everything that grows in the grounds is your enemy. You’ll never make it.’
    But Scorby’s nerve had snapped. He scrambled to his feet and tore out before anyone could stop him.
    Gripped with panic Scorby reached the East Wing and hunted for a door that would let him out. The Krynoid could not possibly be on this side of the house. All he had to do was make it to the wall.
    He found a door and pushed it open. With a shock he ran headlong into a mass of creepers but somehow clawed a way through. Once out in the open he set off towards the heavy undergrowth which lay between himself and the main road. As he ran, he snatched a backwards glance at the house and gasped in horror. The whole West Wing, where the Doctor and Sarah were still trapped, was covered by the sprawling shape of the Krynoid, now over a hundred feet high. Its major limbs and tentacles had encompassed the roof and walls, like a giant spider sitting on its prey, and it was now beginning to slowly crush the solid masonry inwards. At the same time the surrounding vegetation had grown larger and wilder and was covering the house at the points the Krynoid could not reach, blocking every window and exit.
    Scorby had just time to take all this in before he plunged headlong into the murderous jungle which still separated him from safety. Tendrils and branches flapped menacingly as he drove his way through. He was not far from the cottage and the stream that ran near by. Once across that he would be almost at the outer wall. Cursing and swearing he stumbled into the shallow water and struck out for the far bank. Fifteen... ten... five yards... he was nearly there. Then, from nowhere, he felt a tangle of weeds wrap around his legs beneath the water. They were pulling him down! He lunged and thrashed about but the weeds were now around his body, trapping his arms, dragging him down, down, down beneath the icy water...
    With a final swirl the waters closed over Scorby’s head and he disappeared below the surface. The writhing weeds subsided, their deadly purpose accomplished.
    â€˜Hello! Hello!’
    The Doctor fiddled desperately with the radio tuner but all he got was an unfriendly crackle. He shook his head angrily, dislodging bits of plaster from his thick locks. ‘Where’s the Sergeant? I need the Major’s wavelength.’
    Sarah looked up uneasily. The Sergeant had been gone a suspiciously long time. ‘I’ll go and find him,’ she said bravely. Before the Doctor could stop her she vanished down the corridor.
    She had seen the Sergeant take the corridor towards the rear of the house, and she followed the same route.
    Besides the continuous rattle of the Krynoid outside she could now hear another sound, a knocking from inside the large