One little change Hayles makes from the broadcast episodes has inadvertently wide-ranging ramifications. In an attempt to improve the science of his TV scripts, where ‘No plants’ equalled ‘no carbon dioxide’ (3), the novelisation attributes the decline in CO2 to ‘recycling’ and ‘depollution’ (4). Now, to get the obvious out of the way first, this is unfortunate. While it might be more scientifically plausible, it also implies that an ice-age apocalypse will be the inevitable consequence if anyone’s foolish enough to pay attention to all this new-fangled concern for the environment. If nothing else, that’s a bit of a slap in the face for the Lett/Dicks years.

    Putting that aside, though, it also alters the emphasis of ‘The Ice Warriors’. The disaster the base is dedicated to fighting is now entirely attributable to the scientists the story is so obsessed with. When Storr describes them as ‘destructive meddlers’ (5), he’s being entirely accurate – their innovations doomed the world. And Clent implicates ‘the International Computer Complex’ in the great freeze too. That puts a whole new spin on the moment when Walters snaps and rails against ‘that damned machine’ (6). On TV, this is simply fear getting the better of him as the computer fails to deal with the crisis at hand but, in the book, it’s an outpouring of grievances following years of bottled-up frustration: ‘What’s your precious computer ever given us’? Well, the near-death of civilisation.

    This changes the balance between Clent and Penley. In the broadcast episodes, Clent may have had a point when he condemns Penley for giving in to ‘weakness’ (7), valuing his desire to feel like ‘a man’ (8) over defending ‘Five thousand years of civilisation’ (9). In the book, however, Penley inevitably comes across as less irresponsible – the ‘robot universe’ he’s rebelling against was how things got so bad in the first place. It’s also clear that is opinions are less radical than Clent would want to suggest, what with Walter’s practically rolling his eyes as he refers to ‘that blessed computer’ (10) and even Miss Garrett only biting her lip because she’s ‘too ambitious’ to dare voice dissent (11).

    The reader’s even more likely to simply side with Penley once he gets set up as a sort of human Doctor-equivalent. As on TV, the Doctor shares Penley’s resistance to the base’s reliance on ECCO, muttering that he works with computers ‘No more than necessary’ (12), insisting on the supremacy of ‘human beings’ (13) and even getting upset that they run calculations through the computer (14). But the novelisation also adds texture to their first meeting, the ‘bizarrely dressed men’ mirroring each other as they share a moment over Clent’s body, Penley giving the Doctor a whiff of a smile, the Doctor offering his ‘approval’ to Penley’s prescribed course of action (15).

    That rather throws Clent under a bus, especially without Peter Barkworth’s wonderful performance. The novelisation actually restructures a few things to show the Leader in a better light than on TV. It’s made clear that, despite his role, of which Varga is so dismissive (16), he’s still a capable scientist, recognising the Doctor’s deductive process when questioning him (17), realising ahead of all the specialists working under him the problems the Doctor is warning the Ice Warrior ship might cause (18) and understanding why ECCO can’t make a decision while Miss Garrett, for example, is still mystified (19). On top of this, the ending is changed so that the solution requires Clent and Penley working ‘together’ (20) unlike on TV, where the computer ‘spins and gibbers’, Clent falls silent and Penley takes charge (21). Most importantly, considering Clent’s role as Leader, it’s suggested that his personality is the only reason the base has achieved even the limited success it’s managed (22) and that steely resolve is shown to draw both the Doctor’s (23) and Penley’s (24) respect.

    Trouble is, ‘backbone’ to the base though he may be, Clent is more clearly flawed as manager of the base in the novelisation than he was on TV. He’s besotted with ‘his beloved computer’ to the extent that the prospect of any person being its equal irritates him (25) and shows himself utterly hostile of any individuality, dismissing the concept of ‘freedom of thought’ with a brusque ‘Creative poppycock!’ (26), despite the fact his job is to ‘lead the team’ of ‘experts’ he selected (27) not to browbeat them into submission to ECCO.

    Penley, seemingly the key member of his team, appears to have left ‘under a hail of sarcasm’ (28) hardly likely to encourage him to stay and, despite Clent’s attempts to pin the blame for this on Penley’s character, it’s implied that Penley isn’t the first to have been lost to the mission. Miss Garrett worries Clent will ‘reject’ the Doctor ‘as he had rejected Penley and so many others before him’ (29), and Penley can hardly be to blame if he’s just the latest in a line of people who’ve decided working under Clent is too much grief.

    Despite his acknowledged reliance on them, Clent has a barely concealed resentment of ‘experts and their crazy ideas!’ (30). What he wants is people who’ll blindly do what they’re told, even if that’s a vacuous demand for the impossible. As the Ioniser teeters on the verge of exploding, he insists Miss Garrett ‘must balance those readings’ (31), though there’s no suggestion he imagines for a moment she can. In fact, it’s only the Doctor’s intervention that saves them, and Clent’s immediate response to that is to order his guards to ‘Get these scavengers out of here—quickly!’ (32).

    This is a man more concerned with his authority than in the mission, responding to the fact that they ‘need Scientist Penley’ with the simple insistence that ‘That person is no longer a member of this Base’ (33) – the leadership structure seemingly trumps having the necessary personnel. And then, when it comes to the crunch, Clent’s revealed as little more than a petty bully, greeting Penley’s return to the base not with relief or gratitude at his return but by having him tranquillised and tied up on the pretence that the scientist was attacking him even though ‘Everyone present knew the truth—including Clent’ (34).

    Thanks to the glimpses inside his head afforded by the novelisation, Clent’s behaviour can’t even be excused by the stress of the situation and a tunnel vision brought about by the importance of keeping the glaciers at bay. No, his first thought when it looks like everything might go tits up is how ‘his own career would be in ruins’ (35) following such an event and his expectation after the day is saved at the end to face only ‘scorn and humiliation’ fills in some of the detail on show he’s used ‘scientist’s skulls as stepping stones to the top jobs’ (36), presumably exploiting others’ failures to secure his own position. The problem is less Clent’s seeming ‘addiction to the rule book’ (37) and more his unwillingness to make decisions because that would mean accepting responsibility and so, potentially, blame, hence he insists on obeying the computer and waiting (38) even though he recognises ‘the impossible dilemma’ it faces (39) and knows it can never resolve on any action.

    Which means Doctor Who and the Ice Warriors isn’t even about technological progress versus individuality; it’s about careerism and the way corporations will force their workforce into compliance even to their own detriment. That rather alters how Storr comes across, who, as El Sandifer argues, is something of a straw man on TV (40). Rather than representing the wrongheadedness of ‘completely rejecting technology’, he’s now an example of utter devotion to going it alone, rather like the ‘survivalist in the rugged American mould’ Tat Wood and Lawrence Miles observe he could have been but wasn’t onscreen (41). Interestingly, Hayles combines this reframing of the character with making him far more brutal, as when he not only insists Penley should knife Miss Garrett when she turns up at their hide-out (42) but also feels disgust for Penley’s ‘weakness’ at failing to do so (43). But this brutality is not a character trait inherent in Storr and responsible for his resistance to the government but rather, in his mind at least, something he has had to develop to counter the scientists’ ‘degrading power’ (44), as he reflects when endangering Jamie’s life rather than acceding to Penley’s suggestion he take the injured boy to the Base.

    To be fair to Storr, the Base is shown to be equally intractable. Penley’s departure from the base leads Garrett to think him ‘treacherous’ (45) and Clent to label him a ‘traitor’ (46). This isn’t just someone who’s quit his job, this is someone who’s, as the Doctor puts it, ‘defected’ (47) to the enemy. That’s why Storr’s so happy whenever Penley’s provoked into pouring scorn upon the base (49) – that hatred is a reassuring sign of his ideological conversion to the side of the scavengers. That’s also why an alliance with the Ice Warriors doesn’t immediately seem ludicrous to him. As far as he’s concerned, if they’re against Brittanicus base, and they clearly are, then they’re bound to join him, just as they’’’ surely help Jamie once they realise ‘he’s not a scientist’ (50).

    Unfortunately for Storr, the Ice Warriors come from a time before great global powers, trapped in the ice ‘thousands of years ago’ during ‘the First Ice Age’ (51), they’ve even outlived their own civilisation (52). All the humans’ talk of ‘an ancient warrior’ (53) and contemplation of ‘Viking raiders’ (54) is actually quite apt – Varga is ‘a Martian warlord’ (55) and his only interest is conquest in pursuit of a personal fiefdom. Even more unfortunately for Storr, the Ice Warriors are much more brutal than he can ever make himself, Zondal ever eager ‘to kill again’ once he’s got a taste for Earthling slaughter (56). Where El Sandifer suggested the story was ‘holding a […] milquetoast middle ground’ by making Storr artificially extreme, his problem is that it turns out he’s unwilling to be extreme enough, supplanted as antithesis to the Base by Varga, who’ll finally be shown saluting comrades who’ve already accepted death before compromise and declaring ‘No... surrender!’ (57) as he explodes. Storr, on the other hand, passed off by Varga onto a subordinate, finally simply crumples to death (58).

    So the Brittanicus base stands for corporatocracy, Storr represents the frontiersmen and the like of recent history and the Ice Warriors are basically feudal. And they all lose. In the end, the book ends up fiercely championing technocracy. Penley may have deserted his post, flirted with a step back in time and no longer hold any official status but still, as the most qualified scientist in the situation, he swings back in and takes charge, with Clent able to join him so long as he’s willing to act without explicit instructions from above. That really does make him the human Doctor-equivalent, but I worry if that means that’s the only organisation of society he’s willing to tolerate.