Doctor Who_ Theatre Of War Part 9

'Oh I wouldn't bother,' the Doctor told her in a dismissive tone. 'After all, it's only a Terran twentieth*century police telephone box.'

The fact that he failed to convince Lannic and she insisted on dragging it into the lander's hold made Bernice wonder if that had not been his intention all along.

But whatever the Doctor's intentions he was soon sitting in the lander, perched on a crate with Benny and Ace just outside the TARDIS. From somewhere in his voluminous pockets he had produced several crumpled teabags and three sachets of powdered milk. Now Benny was drinking what she reckoned was the worst*tasting cup of tea ever made, listening to the Doctor telling her she was on a badly organized treasure hunt rather than a serious archaeological expedition. As if she didn't know.

'So why don't we just slip away?' asked Ace.

No. The Doctor shook his head. 'There's something happening here something rather odd.'

'You're telling me,' muttered Benny.

'The dream machine?'

'Yes, Ace. It's not as simple as it looks.'

Benny frowned. 'What do you mean?'

'The componentry is too sophisticated for a glorified magic lantern. There's more to it than that. Then there are these deaths. And Ace's ear.'

'My ear?'

'Yes. Somehow the TARDIS got caught inside one of the what did you call it, Ace?'

'The dream machine.'

'Hmm. Very precise. Anyway, we got caught up inside one of its performances. That's theoretically possible. It's obviously theatrically possible. We were in amongst the holograms, except they're more than that there's a virtual reality element to it. We could touch the characters, feel the texture of the set walls.'

Bernice shrugged. All that was feasible: she knew that from her own experiences, just as Ace knew from her s.p.a.ce corps training exercises.

'But it doesn't matter how real you make such a scripted projection, how much you think think you feel and experience, you are not actually there it never you feel and experience, you are not actually there it never really really happens.' happens.'

'Obviously.' Ace could not see the point either. 'Otherwise you could die in one of those training similarities. And that's not how they work.'

The Doctor nodded. 'That's right. You can't get shot. You can't get bombed. You can't get killed. And you can't get your ear sliced by a non*existent dagger.'

Ace's hand went instinctively to her left ear, and Benny could see the thin trail of dried blood that ran down the back of it.

Tashman and Krayn still had not decided what to do to enhance their makes.h.i.+ft staircase. They were wandering round the stage area, occasionally making each other laugh with frivolous suggestions. Krayn was in favour of blasting the corners and edges off the steps and converting it into a steep ramp. Tashman suggested trying to precision*blast smaller steps out of each of the large ones. Neither of them thought either would work.

Tashman leaned heavily against the dried edge of the ma.s.s of mud on the stage. Chunks of it crumbled away under his weight and he rubbed his back against it in an attempt to get comfortable. There was still a solid lump sticking in his spine. It refused to break loose. He turned to examine it, perhaps he could smooth it down with the heel of his hand.

But what he found was not a lump of mud. It was more rigid; colder. It felt like stone, and what little he could see of it looked as if it had been deliberately shaped into a rounded comer. 'Hey, Krayn there's something in here. Buried.'

Krayn came over and they tried to push the mud back from the edges of the lump. It was soon apparent that this was the tip of a larger structure.

'What is it, do you reckon?'

'I don't know.' Krayn considered for a while. 'I'll go and find Lannic, she'll want to see this and it might take her mind off the steps.'

'Right. What shall I do?'

'See if you can clear some more of it. Try the water cannon, but keep it very gentle we don't want to break anything.'

Tashman smiled. 'No chance of that,' he called after Krayn, 'she'd kill us.'

Krayn smiled, reflecting as he pulled himself up on to the tunnel floor that the steps were were actually a bit too steep. But that was hardly important now. He peered down the gloomy tunnel. He could just make out the pale pool light spilling from the nearest lamp. Beyond it the tunnel curled slightly as it rose towards the lander. Still out of breath from the climb, Krayn set off up the tunnel towards the lamp. actually a bit too steep. But that was hardly important now. He peered down the gloomy tunnel. He could just make out the pale pool light spilling from the nearest lamp. Beyond it the tunnel curled slightly as it rose towards the lander. Still out of breath from the climb, Krayn set off up the tunnel towards the lamp.

It flickered as he got closer. Typical probably the fuel cell. They had skimped on that as well as everything else on this lousy expedition. If it were not for the Exec's obsession with their theatrical past they would not be here at all. They would be fighting the Rippeareans on the front lines, taking orders from losing direkters who had no time to send for more experienced advice, or even co*ordinate responses between each other. Krayn had been there, had seen it, and was glad he was stuck on a lousy, skinflint archaeology mission. He had fought in s.p.a.ce battles where he never even saw the enemy, and in the streets of Flastapor where he had stared his enemy and death in the face.

The light went out. He was almost at it when it guttered and died, almost as if a huge dark hand had grasped it. The bend in the tunnel meant he could see nothing ahead, and behind him the tunnel mouth was a torn grey oval a lifetime away. But when the arm grabbed him from behind, the crook of the elbow locking round his throat, it was all he had to turn to.

Krayn swung savagely back at his a.s.sailant, unable to break the grip round his neck. But his fists failed to connect and he flailed uselessly in the air. He staggered back towards the mouth of the tunnel, trying to free enough breath to shout perhaps Tashman would hear. But just as he began to think he might manage to slither back down the tunnel dragging his attacker with him, his legs were kicked away at the knees and he fell forward into the darkness.

The clammy arm tightened its grip as Krayn's fingernails tore away at the mud floor and the grey of the tunnel mouth misted over with red.

Tashman found the body. He was so excited by what the water cannon had revealed that he decided not to wait for Lannic and the others, but to meet them in the tunnel. Instead he found Krayn. He could see him immediately since the body was lying almost directly beneath the first of the lights. Krayn's eyes were bulging, his throat crushed. The tips of his fingers were almost embedded in the tunnel floor.

There was no sign of anyone else. Tashman was alone with his comrade's body, and a mud*spattered lamp.

When he broke the news to Lannic and Bannahilk in the operations room, their reactions were not what he expected. Tashman had a.s.sumed that they would both decide that enough was enough and they should exit straight away. But he had overlooked one fact which struck both of them immediately. Krayn was the pilot.

Ace listened to the conversation with increasing amazement. She had gathered from Benny and the Doctor that the archaeological side of things was pretty messed up. Now it seemed like the military were equally disorganized.

'Can you help, Doctor?' asked Gilmanuk once the initial noise had abated.

'Well, we landed with quite a splash,' the Doctor answered without missing a beat. 'And even if we can find where our vehicle sank, you'd soon see that it looks like it can only carry two at most.'

Ace wondered why he was avoiding helping them no doubt he had reasons.

As if in answer to Ace's thoughts, the Doctor said, 'You must help yourselves. Why don't you ask your friend in orbit to come and get you?'

'He can't,' Lannic admitted. 'This is the only lander.'

'And Lefkhani hasn't piloted a lander, so far as I know,' Bannahilk added. 'Big stuff like the orbiter, yes. Lander no chance. I doubt he's ever flown in an atmosphere let alone the sort of weather out there. It's quite a skill.'

That was enough for Ace. 'Doesn't look too difficult,' she said confidently. 'Give me a couple of hours and I'll figure out how to get this heap off the planet.'

The Doctor frowned at her, and she smiled back. 'I'm going to do it, Doctor,' she whispered to him as the others launched into a round of self*congratulation and relief.

He nodded. 'I know, Ace. I know.' He beckoned Benny over and latched an arm round the neck of each of his companions. 'Ace, you keep everyone out of here for a while if you can at least, away from the area where the TARDIS is parked. Benny, you and I are going on a little journey.'

Ace led Bannahilk off to the flight deck, the others following behind. They were still not sure that Ace was serious and wanted to see how confident she was once she had seen the control systems.

Once the hold was clear, Benny asked the Doctor, 'So, where are we going?'

'I was rather hoping you could tell me.' He set off for the TARDIS, swinging the key round his finger on its chain. It wound itself up into his hand, increasing speed with each revolution.

'Doctor, I haven't a clue.'

'Clues yes, that what we need.'

She still did not follow.

The Doctor sighed and put on his do-I-have*to*explain*everything look. 'There is something distinctly odd happening here, Benny.'

'That much I had noticed.'

'Then you've been asking yourself questions. Questions like: how come the Menaxans died out in such a hurry but left their theatre behind? How come there are buildings but no other material evidence that anyone ever lived here save the dream machine, as Ace rather quaintly calls it. And how come the acoustics in the theatre are so odd?'

'The acoustics? Doctor, I've sat at the back and heard people talking quietly on the stage. The acoustics are brilliant they couldn't be better. The place is built to optimize the h.e.l.l out of the acoustics.'

'Exactly. But why would a race of theatrical experts optimize the h.e.l.l out of the acoustics when the theatre is empty? Fill that place with the thousands of people it would hold and the acoustics may not be so good. That would make an interesting experiment, don't you think?'

Benny considered for a moment, annoyed she had not thought of this. 'What we need are some clues,' she told him.

'Good. So where can you get at the initial survey material and at the source doc.u.ments which led Lannic here in the first place? Where can you look for clues?'

'Of course.' She saw what he was driving at, and wondered if he had the answer already, or just knew that she would know it. 'The Braxiatel Collection.'

The Doctor beamed.

'There's just one small problem, Doctor.'

He looked crestfallen, as if she had just robbed him of his favourite toy.

'They won't let you in without a research ticket. And I don't have one.'

'Ah.' The Doctor looked round nervously, then stage whispered, 'But I do.'

Ace knew what most of the main controls for the lander were and how to operate them. Some could have one of several functions, others she really had no clue about.

'Fortalexa probably has lines on some of them,' Bannahilk told her. 'He's into engineering and all things electrical. I've appeared with him several times he knows his stuff.'

'But he is not a pilot,' Klasvik pointed out.

'No. He's not a pilot.'

'Is he still examining the machine?' Lannic wanted to know. 'More to the point, has he worked it out yet?'

Bannahilk turned to Tashman. He shrugged. 'I don't know, I haven't seen him. I was in such a rush to meet you ' He broke off, his eyes widening.

'Meet us? I thought you came to tell us about Krayn.'

'I did. That is, I was on my way when I found him. He came to get you to tell you what we'd discovered.'

'Discovered? What have you discovered?' Ace thought Lannic was about to grab Tashman by the shoulders, but she managed to restrain herself.

'In the mud. There was a hard edge, like stone. Krayn came to tell you while I tried to see what it was that buried. It's incredible.'

They stared at him. Ace was the first to recover, perhaps she thought to herself because she was the least interested. 'And what was buried?'

Tashman seemed unsure whether he should be apologetic or proud. 'It's a hand. A human hand.'

Benny watched the TARDIS fade away, glancing round nervously to see if the noise of the engines had attracted any attention. But there was n.o.body in sight.

The Doctor had dropped her off in the courtyard just outside the doorway into the archaeology department. She felt a little more prepared this time she knew what to expect indoors, and she felt she was rather better dressed for the surroundings. This time she was not wearing jeans and sweats.h.i.+rt, but had searched through the TARDIS wardrobe until she had discovered a full*length scarlet dress in light velvet with lace trim around the cuffs and collar. She had had half a mind to search through for a suitable wig, but decided there were limits.

Well, she thought as she picked her way up the staircase, holding her dress just above the floor with one hand and the crumpled plastic card the Doctor had given her in the other, so long as old Elliniko isn't on duty this should be a breeze.

But he was.

For a moment Benny thought he might not recognize her. But he did. 'Professor Summerfield, how pleasant to see you again.'

She nodded, 'Likewise, Archivist.'

'But I am afraid you have been misinformed. Ticket applications are handled at reception. Perhaps you were misdirected here?' His tone a.s.sured her that this could not be the case.

'Oh no.'

'Then perhaps you would like an escort back to reception.' This was not a question.

'I don't think that will be necessary, thank you. I was hoping to look at the material you have on Menaxus both Lannic's data and the original sources she worked from.'

'I'm sorry. No research is possible without a research ticket.' He was unapologetic.

'You mean like this one?' She smiled in what she hoped was an angelic manner as she handed it to him, and his face fell.

Then he frowned, puzzled more than angry. He ran the plastic strip through a reader on the side of the desk. A green light winked in response and his frown deepened. 'One moment, please Professor.' He waved her to a reproduction Louis Quatorze chair and reached for a call*set. It sat incongruously over his ear as he spoke into the microphone. 'I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but I have a research ticket here that I haven't seen before.'

Benny strained to catch the response, but all she could hear was a tiny vibration as whoever Elliniko was talking to answered.

'Well, that is part of the problem, sir. The ticket does read valid, but there is no name on it. It was presented by a Professor Summerfield, who was here recently. From the Phaestor Osiris expedition.' He paused for the reply, turning the ticket over as he listened and squinting at a worn area of print on the reverse side. 'That's another odd thing, sir. The number is zero zero zero one.'

Benny watched in amazement as Elliniko's jaw dropped. The laughter from the call*set seemed loud to her, and she was a desk away.