Doctor Who_ Theatre Of War Part 24

'Yes. Yes, I missed that one,' admitted Benny. 'But did I wonder why the walls that are lying flat the ones which really were were walls seemed to have been knocked down by a bulldozer.' walls seemed to have been knocked down by a bulldozer.'

'What?'

'And then there are the doc.u.ments that was what really got me worried.'

'What about them?'

'Well, it took me forever to work it out. I knew there was something wrong. Not with any particular doc.u.ment, you understand, but with all of them. As a collection. I think it was when I cracked that one that Braxiatel decided to tell me what was going on.'

'Braxiatel?' The Doctor's chin left the umbrella and his demeanour changed from brooding consideration to alert intelligence. 'You met Irving Braxiatel?'

'Oh yes. Nice guy.'

'Look, when you two have stopped name*dropping, could one of you please tell me what was so odd about those doc.u.ments?'.

'Sorry, Ace. Well, I saw it eventually, and of course it was obvious once I'd worked it out.'

'Worked what out?'

'The phraseology was odd. The doc.u.ments there are several hundred of them are centuries apart in terms of original dates. But the same pompous phrases and vocabulary keep turning up in them. Almost as if they were written by the same person.'

'But how can that be?' asked Ace.

'Well, it's obvious really. But I missed it. The reason the rubble seems never to have been part of any real structure is because it hasn't. The reason the theatre works better as a ruin than as a theatre is that it was built as a ruin. The reason the walls seem to have been knocked down by a bulldozer is because they were knocked down by a bulldozer.'

The Doctor continued the progression: 'And the reason that the doc.u.ments seem to have been written by the same person is '

'Is that they were were written by the same person. Yes.' written by the same person. Yes.'

'But why?' Ace was stuck for words for a moment. 'I mean well, yes why?'

'I think, Ace and Benny will know for sure because there never was any civilization on Menaxus. No people, no theatre, no machine and no ma.s.sacre.'

Benny nodded. 'That's right.' She laughed. 'We should have spotted it much earlier. The whole place made no sense. It was laid out as an archaeological dig, not as a place people actually lived or worked. The whole supposed history is based on precedents stolen from other people's real history. I think some of them are included as a sort of one*upmanship I mean, the supposed sketch of the theatre which Lannic worked from was apparently drawn by someone called De Witte, for goodness sake. Even the curse on the monolith was a kind of joke I gather from Braxiatel that they were never expected to find it.'

'Hang on, hang on.' Ace held her hands up for silence. 'So the whole thing was an invention, right?'

The Doctor nodded. 'Yes, Ace. An act.'

Benny smiled. 'In a way, Doctor, but there again everything turned out to be exactly what it seemed.'

'Fine. But I don't understand why.'

The Doctor looked at Benny, and she signalled for him to go ahead. 'Because I think that what Benny is telling us is that the catastrophe I thought finished Menaxus hasn't happened yet. The machine wasn't built centuries ago to destroy a planet now long*dead. That planet was never alive. And the machine was left there only a few years ago. It was built to enable the Rippeareans to invade and destroy Heletia here and now.'

'That's right,' confirmed Benny. 'The whole history and archaeology of Menaxus was devised just to get the Heletians to excavate and to find the machine. They knew that Lannic would take it back to the Exec, and they knew he wouldn't pa.s.s up an opportunity to stage The Good Soldiers The Good Soldiers.'

'But they're winning the war's all but over. Why go to all that trouble now?'

'Lannic's initial expedition was five years ago, remember Ace,' the Doctor pointed out. 'The situation in the war was very different then. Even now it could drag on for several very nasty years.'

'So what went wrong?'

'According to Braxiatel, who seems to have masterminded the whole thing, the machine was programmed to make conditions on the dig as unpleasant as possible so that Lannic and her team would pull out quickly. Otherwise they might spend forever excavating and never get the machine back here at all. It seems to have done its job too well on the first dig, and they left before they even found the machine.'

'I should have guessed,' mused the Doctor. 'Braxiatel was always a grand master of political chess. A formidable actor too, though a little melodramatic hence the extraneous tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs, I suppose.'

Ace gaped as a thought struck her. 'The mud monster!'

The Doctor nodded. 'Yes, it would explain a lot if that were also part of the act part of the machine's repertoire. It certainly seems to owe more to the imagination than to science. I think the machine lifted elements from The Good Soldiers The Good Soldiers which includes some nasty executions in the play*within-a-play, and from which includes some nasty executions in the play*within-a-play, and from Death's Bane Death's Bane which involves homicidal statues, amongst other things. It used them to scare us off.' which involves homicidal statues, amongst other things. It used them to scare us off.'

'I don't know what monster or statues you're on about, but that would fit with what happened to me when I found the machine, and with what Braxiatel said.'

'And now the drama will be played out as written. Five years late.'

Ace looked from Bernice to the Doctor. 'And you're just going to sit back and let it happen?' she asked, appalled.

The Doctor got as close to a shrug as he could while leaning forward on his umbrella. 'I don't know, Ace. It might be best.'

'What?' She could not believe what she was hearing.

'Perhaps this will help you decide, Doctor.' Benny pulled the envelope Braxiatel had given her from a pocket. It was crumpled, and she tried unsuccessfully to smooth it out a bit before handing it to the Doctor.

'From Braxiatel?'

Benny nodded.

The Doctor slid his index finger inside the ungummed corner and ran it along the top to rip open the envelope. He pulled several sheets of paper from inside and unfolded them. He read them in an instant, refolded them and pushed them back inside the envelope. Then he put the envelope in his jacket transferring a large paisley handkerchief to the pocket on the other side to make room.

Ace and Bernice watched the Doctor closely. He stood up, dusted himself down and made for the door.

'At last,' said Ace. 'Action.'

'Action?'

'We're going to stop the performance yes?'

The Doctor shook his head. 'No.'

'No?'

'No. I was just thinking we ought to get there early to make sure we get good seats. It wouldn't do to be stuck at the back. Behind the woman with the beehive hair*do.'

'Or the man with the extremely wide head and stick*out ears,' Bernice offered.

Ace glared at them. Then she shook her head, pushed past the Doctor and stormed out.

'She could ruin everything.' The Doctor followed her into the corridor, but Ace was already out of sight.

'Then we'd better stop her, before she stops Fortalexa.'

The Doctor nodded sadly. 'Yes, Benny. Always so impulsive,' he murmured as he stared down the empty corridor.

They set off after Ace. Benny struggling to stay with the Doctor rather than run on ahead. He swung his umbrella as they walked. 'Benny, when we've found her, and while the performance is going on, would you do something for me?'

'And miss the play?'

The Doctor stopped. 'It is quite important,' he told her.

'All right then, Doctor. Just tell me what it is.'

So he told her. 'And now I think,' he said as they reached a corner, 'we had better rescue Ace.' And he ran off down the corridor, umbrella hooked over his arm.

It was later than Ace realized. As she approached the theatre, the number of people milling about in the corridors of the palace rose from near zero to a much higher number. It seemed as though all the courtiers and most of the guard contingent were converging on the place. They seemed to be helping to make final preparations rather than jostling for seats.

In the corridor outside the main door to the theatre, a group of guards was laying out a plush green carpet. There was a barrier set up a few yards in front of the door and two soldiers stood on sentry duty outside. Ace waited at the far end of the corridor. Partly she wanted to keep out of sight of the courtier in case he recognized her, and partly she wanted to see what happened to anyone who tried to pa.s.s through the barrier.

She did not have to wait very long. The carpet was soon smoothed out to the satisfaction of the courtier, and the group disappeared to carry out another vital mission. The sentries, however, maintained their vigilance. One of them was holding a clip*pak, Ace noticed, and he idly tapped his fingers on it. Ace a.s.sumed he was checking through a guest list.

She took a deep breath and marched up to the guards. 'I need to get into the theatre. I'm on a special mission for Manact Madock,' she said pompously, hoping Marlock had not warned his guards to look out for anyone claiming to be his special emissary. She reckoned she was pretty safe: it was unlikely they had even noticed she was no longer in her cell.'

'Name?' snapped the sentry with the clip*pak.

So it was was a guest list. Ace tried to peer over the top of the clip*pak in the hope of catching sight of a name, but the guard glared at her and raised the pak up so she could no longer see it. She had, however, been able to flitch a glimpse of the list beside each name was a small picture. a guest list. Ace tried to peer over the top of the clip*pak in the hope of catching sight of a name, but the guard glared at her and raised the pak up so she could no longer see it. She had, however, been able to flitch a glimpse of the list beside each name was a small picture.

'Name,' he repeated. 'If you're not on the list, you don't get in. No matter who you say sent you.'

The other guard's hand was poised near the handle of his disruptor. Ace doubted if she could just apologize and walk away.

'Lannic,' she said. 'Camarina Lannic.' And she hoped that if gossip and rumour travelled round the Heletian barracks as fast as round any other she had visited then they might not even bother to check Lannic's name they might already know who Lannic was.

But the guard examined his clip*pak, tapping on the bottom of the screen to page down the list. Ace watched him closely as he read down, ready to make a run for it at the first hint of trouble best to wait until the moment of most confusion.

'Right,' said the guard, and Ace braced herself ready to run. But the guard stood aside and saluted.

Ace hesitated. Were they more clever than they looked were they luring her into a trap? She didn't have much option though, the second guard had closed in behind her. She nodded and stepped past the sentry with the clip*pak trying to catch sight of the screen as she did so. Her eyes lingered on the energy*detectors built into the ends of the barrier lucky she wasn't carrying any weapons, they would set the detectors off instantly.

One line, which Ace a.s.sumed was Lannic's name, had no picture against it, just a blank square. Of course, Lannic must be the one guest for whom they did not have complete record. After all, she had only just arrived.

'Thanks,' said Ace, resisting the temptation to congratulate them on the fine job they were doing. They were still watching her, so she went into the theatre through the main double doors.

Once inside the theatre Ace glanced round. People were stacking piles of programmes or adjusting the lighting. She immediately turned back to the doors and pushed one of them open a crack. The guards had turned towards the corridor. Probably they would not have worried if she had gone straight up the stairs toward box, but it was best to be cautious.

Ace pushed the door open wide enough to slip through and made her way quietly to the stairs leading to the box where the machine was installed.

She knew what she wanted to do once she reached the top of the stairs, but she wasn't sure exactly how she might do it. If Fortalexa was not there then it was simple smash the machine with whatever came to hand. If Fortalexa was guarding the machine, then that might complicate matters slightly.

At the top of the staircase she paused. The lamps were dimmed in the box, but she could see the main control panel of the machine lit by its own read*outs and lights. The machine was silhouetted against the one*way gla.s.s which let in the brighter lighting in the theatre. Ace listened for a few moments. Silence it sounded as if the room was empty. She stepped quietly over the threshold.

And Fortalexa stood up from behind the machine.

'Last*minute adjustments, eh?' Ace smiled. You shouldn't have wasted your time.' She looked round for something heavy to use as a cudgel. A baseball bat would be ideal but she doubted the Heletians would have such a thing. In the far corner of the room, in the shadow cast by Fortalexa and the machine, she could just make out the gleam of something metal. It looked cylindrical, like a pipe propped up against the wall. If it were heavy enough it would be ideal for the job she had in mind, But before Ace could reach it, the cylinder moved forward into the light. It resolved itself into the metal forearm of a robot the twin of the robot Ace had destroyed earlier.

Ace backed away as the robot stepped towards her. 'Sorry,' she said with a nervous half*laugh, 'I was looking for the Ladies, must have taken a wrong turn.' As the robot reached out towards her, Ace spun round, ready to race down the stairs. But Fortalexa had already worked his way round behind her. He was standing in front of her, cutting off her retreat.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ace could see her shadow cast on the side wall of the room. And she could see the shadow of a skeletal hand reaching out for her neck.

Source Doc.u.ment 16 Extract from partly completed ma.n.u.script for Beyond Osterling's Legacy Beyond Osterling's Legacy, by Azcline Grigsen. Date a.s.sumed to coincide with Grigsen's death 3515. Ma.n.u.script never published Braxiatel Collection Catalogue Number: 883CR Shakespeare was almost certainly on hand to give advice to the actors when his plays were rehea.r.s.ed. Rehearsals for what was in essence a repertory company, expected to provide different plays every week, must have been short and infrequent, so the actors would have welcomed what notes were offered.

By contrast, Osterling was not involved in the production of his plays at all. He delivered the ma.n.u.script and went to the first night. His way of maintaining control was to issue explicit and detailed stage directions within the text of his script. These directions he expected to be followed meticulously (witness his famous argument with Hanrich Endersyn over the colour of the carpet in Death by Mirrors Death by Mirrors).

Shakespeare's stage directions however perhaps because of the liaison between writer and actors are virtually non*existent.

That is not to say there are no instructions to the act in the plays of Shakespeare. But unlike Osterling, Shakespeare constantly gives instructions to the actors within the body of the text, using the speech of the characters to define and identify the important details of movement and action. 'See it stalks away,' Barnardo says of the ghost of Hamlet's father. At once he instructs the ghost how it should move, and draws the audience's attention to this detail.

Osterling's text is too often starved of the poetic detail of action with which Shakespeare's lines are imbued. His directions are stark, straightforward and, in an epoch where the action of the play largely happens off*stage and is merely alluded to by the characters, would seem to be totally inappropriate. If The Good Soldiers The Good Soldiers is ever rediscovered, I think we shall find that Osterling's approach to the presentation of the drama, in this play at least, is completely different from that of his contemporaries. It will vindicate his attention to the detail of action which the staging techniques of his era, with its post*Greek inclination, would seem to make a superfluous liberty. is ever rediscovered, I think we shall find that Osterling's approach to the presentation of the drama, in this play at least, is completely different from that of his contemporaries. It will vindicate his attention to the detail of action which the staging techniques of his era, with its post*Greek inclination, would seem to make a superfluous liberty.

Chapter 16.

The Crucible At some time in the distant past. Thespis (according to tradition) stepped out of the choral Dithyramb and spoke alone. He became the first actor, and his dialogue with the chorus formed the basis for tragedy.By the time Aeschylus came to the theatre, the ancient Greeks had evolved a ritual which allowed for two speaking actors: the protagonist and the deuteragonist. There were other characters in the plays; but only two speaking actors. So the speaking actor would change his mask and replace one of the dumb actors when a new character spoke. But because there were only ever two of them in anyone scene, all dialogue was two*way. The two actors spoke, and the chorus interpreted and commented on their dialogue. The action happened off*stage, and they all described and commented on that.The ritual was set, established, unchangeable. The stichomythla the exchange of single lines of dialogue like a hammer hitting an anvil in the central emotional argument of the play was defined and understood. The two characters engaged in the debate would get no help or hindrance from elsewhere. And the audience knew it.When Orestes returns to avenge the death of his father Agamemnon in The Libation Bearers The Libation Bearers, the central argument is between Orestes and his mother Clytaemnestra. His mother has murdered Agamemnon (ostensibly for sacrificing their daughter to the G.o.ds in the hope of good fortune in the siege of Troy). His choice is simple but harrowing: he can appease the G.o.ds and murder his father's killer, or he can renounce them and let the mother who suckled him live.When the argument takes place, Orestes' companion Pylades is witness to it. Throughout the play, Pylades has not spoken, and the audience is aware that he cannot intervene now as the two speaking actors have taken the roles of Orestes and Clytaemnestra. So when Orestes falters in his resolve and asks Pylades what he should do, we know that his companion can offer no advice.Aeschylus's innovation was to introduce a third speaking actor. He does this not from the outset, but towards the end of the play. Imagine the tension among the thousands in the audience when Orestes asks his companion whether he should kill his own mother. And imagine the shock and the drama when his companion the companion who the audience knows can offer him no advice tells Orestes to appease the G.o.ds. Orestes, like the audience, is swayed and Clytaemnestra's fate is sealed.Tragedy and drama in general took another innovative leap forward with Pylades' only speech throughout the play. 'What of the future?' that speech begins. What indeed?The Greeks had a Play about It Peter Hinton, 2012 Peter Hinton, 2012 When they arrived at the barrier and were greeted by the two sullen soldiers standing at the only pomt they could pa.s.s through it, Bernice a.s.sumed there would be trouble.

She was disappointed.

Once the Doctor had pointed out that he was in fact on their guest list and that his a.s.sistant Professor Summerfield must therefore have been omitted by mistake, they became very helpful. Not so helpful that they would actually let Benny through the barrier without further questioning and obstinance, but they did not actually shoot Benny and the Doctor out of hand which had to count for something.

'Shall I wait here while you see if you can find her?' Benny asked.

The Doctor was stupefied. 'Certainly not it's the principle of the thing.' He turned back to the guards. 'Now then, we are needed to get the machine running properly so the play can actually be performed. I a.s.sume from your overtures that you will not allow Professor Summe through the barrier, so we shall remain here. And we shall explain to the Exec when he arrives why the performance cannot take place. I'm sure Marlock will be very interested too.'

The Doctor sat down on the floor by the barrier and crossed his legs. The guards muttered quietly to each other. The Doctor started to whistle.

After a few moments of hasty haggling a compromise was reached. The Doctor and Benny could pa.s.s through the barrier, provided they only went to the box where Fortalexa was setting up the machine. One of the guards would accompany them as far as the bottom of the staircase. In the meantime, the other guard would send a message to Madock to get proper authorization for Benny, who had obviously been left off the guest list by mistake.

From the way the conversation ended, it seemed as though this compromise was entirely the initiative of the sentries, although Benny was certain the Doctor had worked most of it out before they even started to negotiate. As they climbed the stairs, she tried to work out at what point the guards had been given control of the conversation. But before she succeeded, both Benny and the Doctor heard the noise. It sounded as if there was a small war going on in the room above them.

'Ace!'