questioning.
Doctor Who stared at the sight beyond the ridge – at the huge glowing web-structure which lay beyond them in the shallow valley, its luminous tentacles seeming to stretch around it endlessly before they writhed and disappeared around the sentinel crags.
Above this strange, sprawling web-building a light wheeled and flashed.
‘So that’s where they took the ship!’ Ian breathed.
Doctor Who rubbed his chin, narrowing his eyes as he sized up its sinister pulsating shape.
‘It would seem so.’ He paused uneasily. ‘We’ll have to go down there, of course, but...’
‘But what? Come on!’
Doctor Who hesitated, thinking. ‘I... wish I knew more of what we are up against...’
Ian halted, considered this and stared downward. He nodded, began moving carefully forward, not taking his eyes off the sight ahead of him.
‘Yes’ he muttered, and turned. ‘Perhaps if we — Doctor, look out!’
Suddenly Ian was threshing and lashing out as, with a swish, something landed and enveloped him— a fine net, a web. He kicked and struggled in its coils.
‘Go back!’
But his voice was half-drowned in a sudden humming which rose from the rocks around them, and as Doctor Who himself halted, then turned, another net swished from the shadows of a rock and enmeshed him too.
Doctor Who stood stock-still in the grip of the web-like net. He looked around.
From all directions the eyes of the Zarbi shone as they closed in on them. Their shapes appeared, sleekly bulbous, emitting their hideous chorus of chirrups that pierced the ears.
Doctor Who’s mouth opened in astonishment.
‘Zarbi!’ he muttered.
The creatures came scuttling forward till they swarmed all around them, the pulsating light from below lighting their shapes weirdly.
Ian had fallen and lay there threshing blindly, but Doctor Who kept his feet. In the face of their terrifying appearance he strove to maintain his composure.
Calmly, with a slow gesture, Doctor Who lifted the net which enclosed him and managed to sweep it clear.
One of the Zarbi reared in front of him and its great shining eyes inspected him closely.
He stared steadily back, erect and unmoving now, at the evil shape of the creature confronting him.
Ian was shouting and writhing on the ground. He had succeeded in struggling half clear of the net but suddenly a Zarbi from the surrounding swarm lunged at him. Ian kicked out and his shoe stubbed hard against its metallic body. It checked, and Ian struggled to his feet, one arm free, wary, circling, hampered by his net, ready to kick again.
The Zarbi reared, lumbered with incredible swiftness towards him, its feelers raised. It lunged and struck with steely foreclaws.
Ian went down like a log. He stirred and still tried dazedly to get to his feet again. At that the Zarbi confronting Doctor Who emitted a shrill commanding chirrup which rose above the concerted noise, and pointed with a foreclaw.
Doctor Who’s amazed stare followed the pointing foreclaw. He saw a rod-shaped instrument surrounded by a coil of glass-like tubes swivel from the nearest crag until it pointed directly down on Ian.
He froze at that, then abruptly yelled, above the din.
‘Chesterton – don’t struggle !’
Ian ceased lashing about him in his attempts to rise. He looked, dazed, in the direction in which Doctor Who was grimly pointing.
Instinctively Ian made to resist as two of the Zarbi bent their huge, evil shapes towards him.
Again Doctor Who shouted desperately.
‘Don’t move! If they wanted to kill us they’d have already done so! Look!’
Ian stared and saw the strange gun levelled directly at him from a crag, with the shiny head and glowing eyes of a Zarbi behind it.
‘They have weapons!’
‘Yes! Now do as I say! Obey them!’
A Zarbi clamped its pincer claw on Ian’s arm. He winced at its grip, but submitted. Another gripped him and together the creatures dragged Ian to his feet.
‘You mean – you’re going to
Doctor Who stared at the sight beyond the ridge – at the huge glowing web-structure which lay beyond them in the shallow valley, its luminous tentacles seeming to stretch around it endlessly before they writhed and disappeared around the sentinel crags.
Above this strange, sprawling web-building a light wheeled and flashed.
‘So that’s where they took the ship!’ Ian breathed.
Doctor Who rubbed his chin, narrowing his eyes as he sized up its sinister pulsating shape.
‘It would seem so.’ He paused uneasily. ‘We’ll have to go down there, of course, but...’
‘But what? Come on!’
Doctor Who hesitated, thinking. ‘I... wish I knew more of what we are up against...’
Ian halted, considered this and stared downward. He nodded, began moving carefully forward, not taking his eyes off the sight ahead of him.
‘Yes’ he muttered, and turned. ‘Perhaps if we — Doctor, look out!’
Suddenly Ian was threshing and lashing out as, with a swish, something landed and enveloped him— a fine net, a web. He kicked and struggled in its coils.
‘Go back!’
But his voice was half-drowned in a sudden humming which rose from the rocks around them, and as Doctor Who himself halted, then turned, another net swished from the shadows of a rock and enmeshed him too.
Doctor Who stood stock-still in the grip of the web-like net. He looked around.
From all directions the eyes of the Zarbi shone as they closed in on them. Their shapes appeared, sleekly bulbous, emitting their hideous chorus of chirrups that pierced the ears.
Doctor Who’s mouth opened in astonishment.
‘Zarbi!’ he muttered.
The creatures came scuttling forward till they swarmed all around them, the pulsating light from below lighting their shapes weirdly.
Ian had fallen and lay there threshing blindly, but Doctor Who kept his feet. In the face of their terrifying appearance he strove to maintain his composure.
Calmly, with a slow gesture, Doctor Who lifted the net which enclosed him and managed to sweep it clear.
One of the Zarbi reared in front of him and its great shining eyes inspected him closely.
He stared steadily back, erect and unmoving now, at the evil shape of the creature confronting him.
Ian was shouting and writhing on the ground. He had succeeded in struggling half clear of the net but suddenly a Zarbi from the surrounding swarm lunged at him. Ian kicked out and his shoe stubbed hard against its metallic body. It checked, and Ian struggled to his feet, one arm free, wary, circling, hampered by his net, ready to kick again.
The Zarbi reared, lumbered with incredible swiftness towards him, its feelers raised. It lunged and struck with steely foreclaws.
Ian went down like a log. He stirred and still tried dazedly to get to his feet again. At that the Zarbi confronting Doctor Who emitted a shrill commanding chirrup which rose above the concerted noise, and pointed with a foreclaw.
Doctor Who’s amazed stare followed the pointing foreclaw. He saw a rod-shaped instrument surrounded by a coil of glass-like tubes swivel from the nearest crag until it pointed directly down on Ian.
He froze at that, then abruptly yelled, above the din.
‘Chesterton – don’t struggle !’
Ian ceased lashing about him in his attempts to rise. He looked, dazed, in the direction in which Doctor Who was grimly pointing.
Instinctively Ian made to resist as two of the Zarbi bent their huge, evil shapes towards him.
Again Doctor Who shouted desperately.
‘Don’t move! If they wanted to kill us they’d have already done so! Look!’
Ian stared and saw the strange gun levelled directly at him from a crag, with the shiny head and glowing eyes of a Zarbi behind it.
‘They have weapons!’
‘Yes! Now do as I say! Obey them!’
A Zarbi clamped its pincer claw on Ian’s arm. He winced at its grip, but submitted. Another gripped him and together the creatures dragged Ian to his feet.
‘You mean – you’re going to
Similar Books
