Doctor Who: Ribos Operation Read Online Free PDF

alert and watch out for the
unexpectaaaaaaagh...’
    The Doctor’s cheerfully booming voice had turned abruptly
into a strangled cry of shock and dismay which was swallowed up
in the darkness ahead. Romana slowly advanced into the
alleyway holding the bleeping Core out in front of her like a two-handed sword. In the gently pulsing glow of the Locatormutor,
she saw the Doctor swinging helplessly in mid-air. He was
completely enmeshed in a large net which was drawn tightly
shut at the top and suspended from a rough wooden beam slung

between the walls. He was upside down and doubted in two with
his head jammed between his knees.
    Romana suppressed a sudden urge, to giggle. ‘A primitive
device to stop animals from straying into the city at night,’ she
suggested, keeping her face as straight as she could. ‘There
appears to be some kind of trigger mechanism set into the...’
    ‘Well done,’ the Doctor managed to mutter, ‘I wondered if
you’d spot that...’ His face was almost purple. His long
multicoloured scarf had become caught up in the crude rigging
of the trap and had pulled tight around his throat. He glared at
Romana, making incoherent and strangled sounds in
frustration.
    Finally the Doctor worked one hand free and was able to
loosen the scarf a little. ‘Now, my dear,’ he whispered hoarsely in
a supreme effort to keep calm, ‘do you think you could turn
your attention to getting me out of this thing...?’
    Having ushered the Graff Vynda Ka and his faithful
commander, Sholakh, into their quarters in the Citadel, Garron
set to work in an attempt to blow some life into the flickering
logs piled in the iron grate.
    ‘Unfortunately, Highness, you are not seeing the planet at
its best just now,’ he fawned, clumsily pumping a crude bellow’s
and producing clouds of smoke in the windowless room.
‘However, for someone in your exalted position Ribos would
make an ideal second home during Sun Time.’
    The Graff Vynda Ka shivered and stared disdainfully round
the chamber, waving the smoke out of his face with white, well-manicured hands. ‘Sun Time!’ he snorted, ‘once every eleven
years... If I do purchase the planet it will not be my intention to
spend much time here.’
    ‘But there are so few unspoiled properties coming onto the
market at the moment, Highness,’ Garron said affectedly,

brushing his watering eyes with his sleeve. ‘Shurr is the only city
of any size; there are a few scattered settlements towards the
Upper Pole—otherwise nothing.’
    Sholakh had been marching about the fur-strewn flagstone
floor, rubbing his numbed hands. ‘The property grows less
attractive every minute, Highness,’ he muttered.
    The Graff nodded and came over to warm himself at the
modest blaze which Garron had succeeded in coaxing from the
damp wood. He stared into the fire thoughtfully, the flames
reflecting on his taut pale-skinned features.
    ‘The inhabitants...’ he suddenly demanded, ‘... are they
aware of the existence of the Greater Cyrrhenic Empire? Do
they know that their planet is protected by the Imperial
Alliance?’
    Garron hauled himself quickly to his feet, shaking his head
firmly. ‘They are brutish primitives, Highness,’ he scoffed, ‘they
know nothing of other worlds... nothing at all.’ He detected a
flicker of renewed interest in the young Prince’s pale blue eyes.
‘Ribos is extremely well-positioned in the Galaxy—strategically
speaking,’ he murmured, leaning forward confidentially so that
his face almost touched the Graffs.
    The Prince’s nostrils flared with undisguised contempt. ‘You
are keen to make a sale, Garron,’ he said with a chilling smile.
    Garron opened his pouch and took out a sheaf of papers.
‘And you are keen to make a purchase, Highness,’ he beamed.
‘Otherwise you would not be here.’
    ‘Not for the ten million opeks you are asking,’ the Graff
cried, turning brusquely away.
    Garron shrugged. ‘The Magellanic Mining Corporation set
that