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can produce temperatures intense enough to melt rock.’
    ‘But your computer can’t quite manage to strike the happy medium,’ reasoned the Doctor—‘at least, not without the assistance of one of those specialists you’re so short of...’
    ‘One of my scientists—a chap called Penley—had some sort of a breakdown, and went missing.’ Clent paused; he didn’t like asking favours. ‘I’d like you to take his place. It’s a worthwhile mission. Will you join us?’
    The Doctor caught the resigned look that passed between Jamie and Victoria—they knew what his decision would be.
    ‘I’m willing to try,’ he said modestly.
    Good!’ exclaimed Clent, smiling broadly. ‘Er... you have worked with computers, I presume?’
    ‘No more than necessary,’ muttered the Doctor.
    ‘Miss Garrett is our technical expert,’ CIent beamed.
    ‘She’ll help you.’
    Miss Garrett was proud of her computer training, and intended the Doctor to know it. ‘Our computers check every decision to eliminate the risk of failure,’ she declared. ‘Our standards are of the highest—’
    ‘So I’ve noticed,’ remarked the Doctor with a wry smile.
    ‘Who sets these standards, though?’ demanded Victoria, who had a distinct aversion to bossy machines. Miss Garrett looked at the pretty teenager over her glasses.
    ‘World Computer Control, of course,’ she snapped.
    ‘Another machine?’ queried Jamie, amazed. ‘In charge of what everybody does? Och, that’s ridiculous!’
    ‘The machine,’ snapped Miss Garrett, ‘is rational, coherent, and infallible!’
    ‘But not very human,’ suggested the Doctor. He turned to face Clent. ‘Is that why Penley defected?’
    ‘The pressure of work here has driven some men into...
    weakness.’
    ‘But not you.’
    Clent faced the Doctor squarely, and replied with a tense dignity.
     
    ‘I have a job to do... and I do not intend to fail. My duty is to make the Ionisation programme succeed—and save five thousand years of European civilisation! I must not fail!’
    In the pause that followed, only the Doctor saw the desperate plea in Clent’s eyes. It was impossible to ignore his silent appeal for help.
    ‘I respect that, Leader Clent,’ conceded the Doctor.
    ‘Now tell us how we can help.’
    Before Clent could say what was in his mind, the double doors of the laboratory swung open, and Arden walked in. At first, Clent didn’t see Walters and the other technicians wheeling the trolley behind the defiant scientist. He swung himself from the vibrochair in a blaze of anger.
    ‘Arden! Is this what you call cooperation?’ Clent strode forward fiercely. ‘How are we expected to carry out this project when idiots like you—’ The Leader stopped abruptly, in full flow. Arden had stepped aside, and for the first time Clent caught sight of the prize he had brought back from the glacier. No one spoke. They were all gazing speechless at the mighty form contained within the great chunk of ice. That one moment alone was triumph enough for Arden.
    ‘I thought you might be interested. Clent.’ declared the geologist perkily. He turned to his helpers, and pointed to a corner of the room. ‘Wheel him over there.’
    The others followed, hardly able to take their eyes from Arden’s discovery. As yet, the ice had barely started to melt.
    ‘Doctor,’ whispered Victoria, ‘what is it?’
    Jamie’s eyes shone with admiration. ‘It’s a great warrior!
    Do ye no see his war helmet?’
    The Doctor inspected the warrior thoughtfully. ‘Frozen for centuries and perfectly preserved,’ he said, then added,
    ‘odd, though...’
     
    Arden had succeeded in silencing Clent, but hadn’t yet summoned up the courage to tell him of Davis’s death. He now turned on the Doctor suspiciously. ‘Who are you?’
    Clent stepped in with an explanation. ‘An addition to our staff, Arden. I’ll explain at the meeting.’ He turned to the Doctor, intrigued by his snap criticism. ‘What exactly is it