Doctor Who_ Theatre Of War Part 12

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The Doctor and Fortalexa continued their descent. Lannic and the others joining them at the base of the stepped aisle.

'Sit down,' the Doctor told them. They sat in the front row, and he stood at the base of the stage. 'I have a theory. Not pleasant, not proven. But I think I know what is happening here.'

'You think you know?' Klasvik was on his feet, pointing past the Doctor. 'The statue has been removed and you think think you know what is happening?' you know what is happening?'

'What is the point you are trying to make, Klasvik?' Lannic's voice was weary, resigned.

'I'll tell you the point, although I would have thought it was obvious. Someone is playing games with us. The Rippeareans are here, picking us off one by one.'



'Not the Rippereans, I'm afraid. Something far worse.'

'Worse? You don't know what you're talking about.'

The Doctor leaped down from the stage, umbrella held out in front of him so that it pointed directly at Klasvik's chest, stopping just short of touching him. 'I know infinitely more than you ever will, Leontium Klasvik.'

Klasvik started. 'How did you know '

Out the Doctor ignored him. 'I have been to the Eye of Orion, have been caught in the clutches of the black hole of Tartarus, been hunted through the universe by the Daleks, and played backgammon with Kublai Khan. And you say I don't know what I'm talking about? Have you ever seen the skies above Metabelis Three, tried the experiential grid on Argolis, or watched the s.p.a.ce yachts of the Eternals race against the stars?' He turned away in contempt. 'Of course you haven't.'

After a moment the Doctor turned back to face them, tapping the handle of his umbrella thoughtfully against his chin. He opened his mouth to speak, and Klasvik screamed.

'I may have been a little harsh,' the Doctor seemed taken aback, 'but that does seem a somewhat extreme reaction.'

But Klasvik was not the only one to react. Lannic and Gilmanuk were already on their feet, as Fortalexa reached out to the Doctor. Tashman and Klasvik were backing away from the stage. The Doctor took a step backwards, but Fortalexa grabbed his sleeve and pulled him into the front row.

And the arms of the Doctor's statue closed on the empty s.p.a.ce where his throat had been. Its eyes snapped upwards to see where its quarry had gone, a tear of mud streaking down one cheek as the stone sh.e.l.l cracked with the movement. The Lannic statue joined the stone Doctor at the edge of the stage and together they watched their prey scurry away up the aisle.

'You're right,' the Doctor said breathlessly as he raced Fortalexa and Klasvik through the auditorium. 'I don't know what I'm talking about.'

Bernice leafed through the pile of doc.u.ments for a few seconds, then checked the optical sphere's index on the screen for the umpteenth time. 'Strange but true,' she muttered quietly. There was something odd about all the doc.u.ments. Some detail that was evading her.

She had noticed the obvious problem almost at once. All the doc.u.mentation was about the theatre. It had taken her a while to realize that this actually was a problem though. Since she was interested in the theatre she was initially overjoyed that so much material existed which related to it. Lannic must have had the same reaction, she thought.

But then Lannic had not drunk enough Chardonnay to get to the point where you suspect any euphoria, however mild, to be alcohol*induced. So Benny had looked for the down*side. And the down*side was that there was no material relating to any other aspect of life on Menaxus. None.

'That was when she had first called Elliniko. He must have understood her only to be interested in the theatre and not provided whatever other doc.u.ments there were. But no, this was it. A whole planet's history from (she leafed through a pile of half*sorted papers to check) universal calendar date 2176 to (she glanced at the index) UCD. 2542. And all of it related to a tiny geographical area significant only because someone called Pithess had built a theatre there. It was almost unbelievable. Almost she clung to the idea that maybe the eccentric Braxiatel was not interested in anything else about the planet: not interested in any other area or nation, not interested in medical or political or geographical information. Just theatre, And just this one theatre.

But that was not what worried Bernice. What worried her was whatever she was missing. She had almost had it as she again read through the fragment of an anonymous account of the opening performance of The Captain's Honour The Captain's Honour at the Pentillanian Theatre on Menaxus, but it had escaped. She had come even closer when she reread Georg Lichbergh's eyewitness account of Hagan's at the Pentillanian Theatre on Menaxus, but it had escaped. She had come even closer when she reread Georg Lichbergh's eyewitness account of Hagan's Hamlet Hamlet. But again it had eluded her. It was not something particular to those doc.u.ments, but they were somehow a part of it whatever it was.

'Stuff it,' Bernice said out loud, and went back to the simularity chamber. She might as well try a completely different approach.

The theatre was still there, waiting for her. The audience of Hamlets and Bennys still sat waiting for the Hamlet on stage to begin a random soliloquy.

'Cancel this lot,' said Bernice, and they disappeared, the whole theatre folding up and fading away in front of her. 'Reference Lannic's data measurements and holograms, Show me the admissions complex as it was when she saw it.'

'Done.' A set of ruined buildings swam into existence. The main building was largely intact apart from a side wall which lay where it had fallen across the sand. The wall opposite it no longer existed at all or maybe the entrance had been completely open. The roof still balanced across the top somehow, and Benny wondered briefly how it had managed to take the weight of the lander. The other buildings were in varying states of disrepair, many being little more than piles of stones laid out where walls had once been.

Benny walked down through the ruined stone buildings, picking her way needlessly round the walls and rubble. She had been to a thousand similar sites, yet they never ceased to amaze her. She could stand for hours and lap up the feelings of the past.

Except there were none.

She put it down to the simularity for a while. But then she began to notice consciously what her subconscious had seen all along. This site was different the lie of the stones and rubble; the way the wall of the main building had fallen away from its neighbours.

'Stand this wall up again,' she said on a whim. The computer obliged and stones rose of their own accord until the wall slotted neatly into place, completing the building like a jigsaw. Bernice walked up to the wall and looked at it, c.o.c.king her head to one side. It seemed odd that just a single wall had gone without apparently affecting the others. 'How did it fall?' she asked herself.

But the computer heard, and the wall crashed down at her. She yelped and jumped back, then immediately looked round to see if anyone had seen her leap out of the way of a non*existent wall. Her stomach settled and she turned back to the ruin. An idea was forming in her mind. She did not yet know what it was, but it was close.

'Show me again, half speed.' The wall slowly toppled forward and crashed into the sand, remaining largely intact on impact. 'And again.' Benny watched it through three more times at various speeds. After she was sure that the middle of the wall bowed outwards first, the top tearing away a moment later from where the roof had been. She thought about the problem, then said, 'State basis for calculation of the way the wall fell.'

'Simularity animation consistent with spatial arrangement of stones on site. Pressures applied to match dispersal on ground impact.'

'You mean you can tell how the wall fell from the way it was lying afterwards. Very clever.' She considered. 'Are you clever enough to run the animation again, at twenty five per cent speed, with the other three walls of the building removed?'

In answer the standing walls faded away, and the square of stones on the ground rose slowly into position. Bernice moved so she could watch from behind. 'Okay go.'

The wall fell impossibly slowly, curling away from her. She shook her head. It was still not quite right. 'Give me a light source, angled at ninety degrees to the wall and at forty*five degrees elevation.' The light appeared, and Benny stood so she was end*on to the wall, a short distance from it. 'And run it again.'

It was all too obvious this time. The shadows thrown onto the falling wall by the light source clearly illuminated the slight bulge in the middle of the wall just as it started to fall. But how could she find out what had caused it? The answer, when she reached it after pacing round the ruins for several minutes was equally obvious.

'Why is there a bulge in the middle of the wall just as it starts to fall?' she asked.

'Simularity animation consistent with spatial arrangement of stones on site. Pressures applied to match dispersal on ground impact. The bulge referred to is the main point of pressure.'

'The wall was pushed over?'

'Yes.'

'What by?'

In answer a rectangular surface of metal materialized in the air before Bernice. The wall rose to meet it, and the metal square fitted into the slight bulge as the wall reached a near*upright position. The animation froze.

'Put the other walls back.' They duly appeared in place. Benny walked round them, and looked in through the open end of the building at the newly erected far wall, the metal sheet still pressed against it.

She could not prove it, of course, but it looked to Benny as if someone had driven a bulldozer through the open front of the building and knocked down the back wall, leaving the rest of that area of the complex intact.

She walked over to one of the completely ruined building. It was just four piles of stones where the walls had been once. 'I wonder... Show me that wall intact.' She pointed to the nearest part of the ruin.

'Not possible.'

Oh well, everything must have limits, she supposed. 'Can you tell if this wall collapsed in the same way from similar exertion of pressure?'

'Impossible. That is not a wall.'

'I beg your pardon?'

'That is not a wall. None of the sections in close proximity are walls.'

'Then what are they?'

'Piles of stones.'

Benny frowned. 'I can see that. But they used to be walls like that one we just looked at.' She waved vaguely in the direction of the main admission block.

'No.'

'Explain.'

'Collapsed structures can be recreated mathematically from their const.i.tuent elements if the dimensions of elements remaining are known and at least fifty*five cent of structure is still on site.'

"You mean most of this one is gone?'

'This represents four sets of stones, one with ninety*four const.i.tutes, one with one hundred and five const.i.tuent '

'Yes, yes all right.'

'The const.i.tuents are not related. It is impossible to a.s.semble a coherent structure from any of the sets using more than one third of const.i.tuent stones.'

'So these piles of stones are just piles of stones?'

Benny held her breath; she was not sure whether things were becoming clearer or whether the whole thing was getting out of hand. There was still something she was missing.

'No coherent structures have stood in the areas now illuminated in green,' the computer said dispa.s.sionately.

Benny looked around. With the exception of the main block and the theatre itself, just visible behind it, as far as she could see the reconstruction was bathed in green light.

Tashman was the slowest. While the others turned and fled up the steps of the main aisle, he backed slowly away from the stage, eyes wide and mouth open.

'Tashman get up here,' yelled Fortalexa. Only he and the Doctor had spared a backward glance to see where everyone was.

The sound of the soldier's voice echoing round the theatre galvanized Tashman into movement at last. He swung his huge body round almost as the statue of Lannic reached him, and started up the steps two at a time.

But they were too steep. Fortalexa and the others were far enough away from the ponderous statues to risk stopping to get their breath back. So they all saw Tashman miss his footing, his ankle turning on the crumbling edge of one of the steps. He crashed to the ground, his head connecting with a dull thud.

Fortalexa already had his sidearm drawn, but the blast did not even slow the lumbering forms. He holstered it and started down to help Tashman immediately, only to find the Doctor holding on to his sleeve.

'We're too late,' said the Doctor, although Fortalexa had not seen him make any move to help. But the Doctor was right.

Below them, Tashman lifted his head slowly, shaking it to clear the pain. As he started to pull himself to his feet, the Lannic statue reached him. Its shadow fell over the steps where Tashman was sprawled, and he rolled onto his back to see what was above him. And screamed.

Fortalexa watched helpless as the statue reached out, almost in slow motion, and grabbed Tashman's hair, pulling his head forward and up. Then it pushed its other hand into Tashman's face. He thought at first that the force of the deceptively slow blow had smashed through the man's face, but he could see now that the hand had squashed against it, cracking and fracturing. The outside was a thin sh.e.l.l which cracked open to release mud which oozed out and over Tashman's face, burying it.

Tashman's scream was choked off. He writhed for a few movements, as if impaled on the statue's wrist, then the figure of Lannic let go of his hair and Tashman's dead weight dropped him back to the ground, allowing the mud and stone to reform into a female hand.

Fortalexa looked away. Behind him the real Lannic was pale with shock, her lower lip trembling. The Doctor caught Fortalexa's eye. 'We are become death,' he said quietly. Then he turned suddenly and sprang up a few steps to join Lannic. He patted her gently on the shoulder but she hardly seemed to notice.

The two statues were approaching them from different angles. Lannic was continuing up the aisle, but the Doctor's statue was clambering up the tiers of the auditorium where the seats had been.

'The problem as I see it,' Fortalexa said, surprised at how calm his voice was, 'is to get past them and to the tunnel. Then we can get back to the lander and hope that Ace is ready to leave.'

'I think they realize that. Which is why they've spread out to block our exit.' Gilmanuk's voice was equally calm, his hesitancy gone.

Klasvik looked at them both as if they were mad. Lannic seemed not to hear. The Doctor had produced a small abacus from his pocket and was flicking beads across it frantically, pausing only to measure up angles and distances like a draughtsman up against a deadline.

'What we need is a diversion they're not very fast.' By way of demonstration, the Doctor ducked out of way as the statue of himself drew level and swiped an arm at him. Its weight carried it past and swung the figure's body away.

'Allow me, Doctor.' Fortalexa jumped down a couple of steps so he was in the statue's line of sight. It saw him at once and changed direction to follow as he stepped backwards, into the Lannic statue's way. As Fortalexa backed away up the steps, both the statues followed him as if locked on to his path.

Fortalexa backed away up the steps towards the back of the theatre. The Doctor ushered everyone else across through the auditorium: When they were well clear of the statues, he all but pushed them down towards the stage. 'Thank you, Fortalexa you can join us now!' he shouted over his shoulder as he ran after the stumbling Klasvik, overtaking him in a moment and grabbing his surprised hand to drag him along faster.

Fortalexa was beginning to think he might have left it too late. He had reached the back row and was almost at the wall. Both statues reached out towards him, toothless smiles breaking their faces. Their hands were all but on him when he sprang forward, pus.h.i.+ng himself off the back wall with his right foot and diving through their arms. He felt cold fingers tear at his uniform as he crashed through and the ground flew up to meet him.

Just as he hit he curled his shoulder down so it hit the ground first, rolling him over and down the steps, drop*chute style. After two complete rolls he was on his feet, the momentum carrying him down to join the others.

Lannic and Gilmanuk were already up the first of the huge steps of mud. Lannic seemed to have recovered from the shock and was pulling Klasvik up after her as the Doctor pushed him from below. Klasvik's hands were scrabbling to get a hold on the slippery surface. Fortalexa added his shoulder to the Doctor's and together they heaved the old archaeologist up.

Fortalexa scrabbled up after him. A hand reached down to help him as he straightened his arms and pulled himself up. He was about to offer thanks, but he was too surprised how had the Doctor managed to get up the step so quickly?

Painfully slowly they scrambled up the remaining steps. Fortalexa was last to reach the top, having pushed the others up ahead of him all except the Doctor who seemed somehow just to arrive at the next level with no help from anyone. He looked back down into the theatre.

And saw the stone eyes of the statue of Lannic looking back at him from the step below. Surely that was impossible how could it have climbed so fast, especially weighing what it must? But before he could speculate further, the head of the statue of the Doctor appeared at the top of the steps, seeming to rise out of the mud of the tunnel floor.

Fortalexa turned and ran up the tunnel after the others. 'We made it!' Klasvik was almost euphoric. But he was right, the open door of the lander was now within sight He hurried towards it.

Gilmanuk looked back down the tunnel. There was no sign of their pursuers.

Ace was waiting outside the closed door. She was standing quite still, watching them approach.

'Thank Dion,' said Klasvik. 'Are you ready to leave?'

There was no reply, although the woman turned to face him, silhouetted against the light spilling from the hold.

'Ace?' called the Doctor. 'Ace, are you all right?' When there was still no reply he stopped dead. 'Klasvik come back.'

'What?' The old man stopped, puzzled and annoyed.

'Come back here, Klasvik.' Lannic's voice was calm and authoritative. 'The Doctor's right.'

'Right? What about?'

Gilmanuk strained to see, peering through his muddy spectacles at the figure ahead. Even at such a disadvantage he could see, as Klasvik now could, that it was not Ace.

It was a life size, perfectly formed statue of Ace. It was completely grey, as if made of stone, except for the dribbles of darker fluid where the joints had stretched and strained with movement. And it was starting down the tunnel towards them.

'Doctor, I think we have a problem.' Fortalexa pointed the other way. To where the two statues from the theatre had just rounded a bend in the tunnel and were advancing, 'If only we knew what they were,' muttered Lannic, 'we might have a chance.'

Doctor Who_ Theatre Of War Part 12

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Doctor Who_ Theatre Of War Part 12 summary

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