Doctor Who_ Theatre Of War Part 6

'Cambri, of course. I mean ghosts. Well, whatever. But he was here there.' He pointed.

Lannic was losing her patience. 'Who was here?'

'I don't know. A figure. In metal armour, like she said. An old man, standing tall like he owned the place. He had one of those helmets that used to cover the whole head.'

'How do you know he was old, then?'

'He wore the front up. And he walked through there.'

They all looked. Tashman was pointing at a blank section of wall. There was nothing remarkable about it at all. Certainly there was no door.

'You saw his face?' Bernice was curious.

'Yes, that's how I knew he was old.'

Fortalexa decided this was not getting them anywhere. 'Yes, well, I have some sad news too. It looks like they're going for it.'

'You got that off the net?' Bannahilk was suddenly animated, his moustache twitching with excitement. Here was a problem he could understand and deal with.

'Straight off. The Rippeareans have crossed the Charasian Line. They're heading right for Heletia, and we're in their way.' He looked Bernice in the face. He could tell she resented their presence as soldiers and the fact that the war interfered with her business. But that was life, and she would have to come to terms with that. 'I wouldn't invite anyone else to the matinee in a hurry.'

She frowned for a moment. It was as if she were considering something important. Then she seemed to come to a decision. But before she could say anything Lannic was pushing past.

'Right, let's get moving then. Tashman and Krayn, see if you can get us easier access to this place from the tunnel, Klasvik, Gilmanuk, Summerfield come with me. We've got to get started.' She paused as she pa.s.sed Fortalexa. 'Shouldn't you be busy too?'

'Very probably,' he conceded. Bannahilk drew him aside for a moment. 'Warn Lefkhani he may not know.' Fortalexa nodded and followed the others down towards the stage. He got half*way before he realized that Bernice was not in front of him. He turned and looked back. She was bent examining the wall where Tashman's ghost had disappeared.

It was just a section of wall, old and scratched and made of stone. Completely unremarkable but it fascinated Bernice. It was the age, the history what the wall seen that she found so captivating. An unremarkable wall, maybe, but it had a remarkable view of the stage. She looked down at the mud*face covering the central area below, catching Fortalexa's eye for a second as he turned away and continued down after the others.

Benny smiled. He wasn't so bad, for a soldier. At least he had a sense of humour and didn't take himself too seriously; a contrast to the quietly efficient Bannahilk. She could easily see how the officer had got his stripes (or pips, or whatever) while Fortalexa had remained on communications and electronics. Att.i.tude was everything the military; and it was the military att.i.tude that she had trouble relating to.

She patted her satchel to rea.s.sure herself that it and the small green globe it contained were still safely with her. Not that she would be calling for the Doctor and Ace just yet. A few spooks in the minds of impressionable grunts who'd got fazed by a phoney curse were hardly enough to motivate a cry for help.

Benny continued her examination of the wall following it to the comer of the amphitheatre where it joined the side wall. She ran her hands over the wall, feeling the stone rough and cold against her skin. But there was something else it seemed almost to shrink away from her. Benny thought for a moment, her eyes searching the surface for a clue. There a line that descended the bottom section of the wall where the stones were not interlaced but all ended at a given point. A doorway. She pushed hard against the outside edge of the section of wall, guessing that it pivoted in the corner where it joined the other wall so that the hinges would be better hidden. She was right, and the heavy door swung slowly open, grating with the sounds of age and disuse. Benny went through into the blackness beyond. She stood still for a moment facing into the dark, waiting for her eyes to adjust.

Eventually she could see a little way ahead. She was in a corridor with real walls, not excavated mud. She picked her way slowly along, one hand against the wall to guide her, the other held out in front to ward off any obstruction her dim eyes might miss.

After a while she stopped. This was silly, the corridor was leading nowhere. Better to get a light and come back with the others, explore and record the whole thing properly. She turned back towards the dim rectangle of light that was the doorway she had come through. And as she did so, Benny caught sight of another doorway in the opposite wall. Just for a second, then it was gone.

She blinked. And it was back. A low red light emanating from within. Then abruptly it was gone again. She frowned and when it reappeared moved cautiously towards the light, almost losing her footing when it disappeared yet again.

Then she was on the threshold and she went into the room beyond.

The room was behind the back wall of the theatre. It was stone*walled on three sides like the theatre and the corridor she had just come along. The fourth side was filled with a bulge of hardened mud which jutted into the room. It was lit intermittently by a flashing red light which was over by the mud wall. It was a tiny light, but seemed very bright. And it was on what looked like the control panel of a machine.

When she got up close to it, Benny could make it out rather better. The machine was square, about a meter along each side, raised on a wheeled trolley so it was at waist height. From one end projected a short rod, not unlike the barrel of a gun except that it had no bore and was ringed with transparent circlets within which Benny could see fine wiring. It was pointing at a tinted window in the wall.

Benny moved round the machine, examining its far side She squeezed between the machine and the mud behind it, running her hand along the smooth plastic exterior. The panel at the back was the only set of controls on it. Was the machine something left by Lannic's previous expedition? Or had they not found the hidden doorway that she had stumbled upon before they had to withdraw?

Benny looked through the low window: it afforded green*tinted view down into the theatre. She was looking directly at the stage area. She wondered why they had not been able to see the winking light from the other side and reached out. Her hand touched something solid. So that was it. Some sort of one*way gla.s.s; she could see out but the outside world could not see in. It was like being in the holographic projection chamber of the TARDIS cinema, she thought with a smile.

And a thought began to form in her mind. A thought cut off by the damp hand that closed over her throat.

It caught Benny by surprise. She would have screamed had the hand not been choking the breath from her windpipe. She flailed at her attacker, forcing her elbows back wards in the hope of catching him... or her... or it, but they met with no resistance. She could feel the life slowly draining from her body, her toes and fingers were tingling with the lack of oxygen. Her ears were rushing with blood and the red of the light got redder each time it flashed.

But she still heard the noise. It was an old noise. A noise Bernice knew from handling ancient weapons in museums and on digs. It sounded like a sword being drawn from a scabbard. It frightened her enough to give her the impetus and strength to lunge not backwards at her attacker, but forwards.

She knew she could not break the hold on her neck her hands had been scrabbling at the damp slippery fingers since they had closed round her throat but if she had something heavy, a club, she might be able to reach over her shoulder and batter at her attacker. So she lunged towards the stubby barrel of the machine in front of her. Her hands closed over it and she summoned her last resources of strength to try to snap it off at the narrow base where it joined the main part of the machinery.

But just before she heaved on the potential club, she was free the hand had left her throat. Benny dived away, past the machine and across the door, keeping low to avoid the blow of the sword. But it never came. There was no rush of air past her face as the sword swept by. No biting pain as it connected with her, Nothing at all.

Benny rubbed her bruised neck and gasped for air as she stared past the machine. There was n.o.body there. Just a dark wall of mud reaching up to a stone ceiling.

She sat there for a few minutes, getting her breath back, too faint to leave the room despite her fear. Then she came to a decision. Ghosts were all very well, but when they somehow became corporeal and started throttling people particularly her then It was time to call in the experts.

Bernice pulled her satchel round and cradled it in her lap as she drew herself up into a cross*legged position. Her hand moved in slow jerks as the light flashed, frame by frame like an old movie. She undid the clasp and reached inside for the tracker/locator, Well, now's the time to see if the theory works, she thought as she felt for the slight indentation in the base of the sphere. A moment later a low green light pulsed unevenly with the red one for a few seconds. Then it was gone. Bernice refastened her satchel, pulled herself to her feet and, still breathing heavily, made her way back to the dark corridor.

Source Doc.u.ment 4 Extract from Intelligence Report XV117 from a.n.a.lyst Ezira to Rippearean War Cabinet 3978 Braxiatel Collection Catalogue Number: 219FD But that is not to say that the Heletians rely on words. On the contrary, if they can show the event on the stage then they will. I saw a production of Dratus and Tomark Dratus and Tomark where Palmera's speech about the arrival of Tomark's s.p.a.ce barge at the battle of Actinium was augmented by the where Palmera's speech about the arrival of Tomark's s.p.a.ce barge at the battle of Actinium was augmented by the actual arrival actual arrival of the barge. They want concrete images all the time; they have lost their appreciation of the abstract. This applies not only to their theatre although there it is most manifest but also to their paintings, similarities and literature. Seeing is believing, and they do not believe until they have seen. of the barge. They want concrete images all the time; they have lost their appreciation of the abstract. This applies not only to their theatre although there it is most manifest but also to their paintings, similarities and literature. Seeing is believing, and they do not believe until they have seen.

a.n.a.lysis: So far as I can discern, the Heletians believe that if they can understand the nature of acting and production, then they can better understand themselves. To this end they want information and facts (they also of course want to spread the word and bring nonconforming systems into line, as they are doing so ruthlessly). They see theatre as inextricably linked to history: plays are chronicles. Plays with an historical setting must must be accurately staged. To a very real degree they see Shakespeare as an historian rather than a story*teller. be accurately staged. To a very real degree they see Shakespeare as an historian rather than a story*teller.

The other principle to which they adhere (ironically) is the notion that theatre is beautiful, even to the detriment of the historical detail. There must be a visual beauty in the settings, the actors and the language. This is why Osterling is the perfect choice, since he combines the historical chronicle with visual splendour and linguistic finesse.

Chapter 4.

A Dream Play JORVIK And so the once n.o.ble Leet, now a common criminal, is tried for the murder. And as a common criminal his head is spliced from his body. And so the once n.o.ble Leet, now a common criminal, is tried for the murder. And as a common criminal his head is spliced from his body.

Teel rises in horror JORVIK See, Teel, see where the axe*man's blade pauses at its apogee. Then gravity gives it one more little pull and the blade continues over and down. See, Teel, see where the axe*man's blade pauses at its apogee. Then gravity gives it one more little pull and the blade continues over and down.

PRATOR Teel stands amazed. The drama works its vicarious spell. Teel stands amazed. The drama works its vicarious spell.

JORVIK It gathers momentum as it goes and slams into his neck... It gathers momentum as it goes and slams into his neck...

The Good Soldiers Stanoff Osterling, 2273 Stanoff Osterling, 2273

'So where is she?' Ace watched the Doctor as he moved round the control console, tapping this dial, flicking that switch, checking the other read*out.

He frowned for a moment, clicked his tongue and reversed his direction round the console. 'Not where she's supposed to be, that's for sure.' His frown turned into a wide grin. 'Which is normal for Benny.'

'So where's she supposed to be?'

'Phaester Osiris. Probably more interesting now it's ruined than it ever was when Horus was at home.' The Doctor stared off into s.p.a.ce for a while and Ace took the opportunity to check over the controls the Doctor had been inspecting.

The Time Path indicator was locked into their present lime 3985 and the reading gave the offset from their present position in s.p.a.ce, paused above Phaester Osiris to take a bearing on Bernice's signal. Or rather, to reverse calibrate the bearing that Benny's tracker/locator was taking on them. That would enable them to take the TARDIS right to her.

It was a little more complicated than that of course. With the Doctor it was always a little more complicated than you might expect. Since they had not arranged an exact time for Bernice to operate the tracker, they had been drifting forward in time, waiting for her signal to appear. That way Benny could be picked up when she had had enough, and the Doctor and Ace could avoid the wait.

Ace moved round to a panel of the console which the Doctor had not yet reached, fed the calculated co*ordinates into the navigation computer and leaned forward to read the result.

'Menaxus,' said the Doctor, still staring into the middle distance.

'Bless you.'

He snapped round suddenly as if she had nudged him in the ribs. 'No no no no no.' His eyes lifted momentarily to the heavens. 'The planet Menaxus just off the edge of the Rippearean Cl.u.s.ter.'

'So what's wrong with that?'

'In 3985 there's a war going on there, that's what's wrong with that.'

Ace nodded. That sounded like the sort of archaeology Benny would appreciate. 'Great,' she said. 'Let's go.'

Bernice was still feeling decidedly shaky. She made her way back to the auditorium, using the corridor wall for support. Thankfully the door was still open and afforded some illumination. The light at the end of the tunnel, she thought as she stumbled slowly towards it.

She sat for a moment on the top tier of the auditorium According to Gilmanuk there had been benches here probably wooden although nothing remained of them now. She looked along the floor for areas of wear or signs of how they had been fixed, but could see nothing. After a minute she gave up and raised her line of sight so that she was looking down at the stage.

It was a good view. She could imagine the actors playing out their drama below, tiny figures on a distant stage. Clever how the eyes were drawn to the centre of the theatre by the inward slope of the walls and the stacked tiers of seats.

There were no actors there now. Just Klasvik and Gilmanuk working in different areas at the front of the theatre and Tashman and Krayn manoeuvring the water cannon into position facing the huge mud slide. She could hear them swearing at each other as they lowered the heavy equipment into place beside a tripod*mounted disruptor and swung it towards the stage.

Bernice smiled as Krayn's voice floated up to her, clear and insistent: 'No, not the top of the mud aim it at the bottom. We're not going to wash the whole thing away, just take it off its mark.' Whatever else the Menaxans might have got wrong with their theatre, the acoustics were superb.

She pulled herself to her feet and set off down the wide steps towards Gilmanuk.

A small blue box swam through the eternity that exists in the gap between the past, the present, and the future. She floated through the s.p.a.ce where s.p.a.ce itself does not exist, and curved her way towards an appointment in the real universe. The dematerialization circuit began to reverse*phase as the outer plasmic sh.e.l.l of the TARDIS emerged into normal, finite*dimensional s.p.a.ce. The police*box exterior slowly appeared in the gloomy corridor, lit almost exclusively by the flashing of its own light as it pulsed to the same unholy grating rhythm as her engines as they echoed round the deserted castle.

A pause. Utter silence again. The gloom receded slightly as the dim light from the narrow slits of the high windows gained the shadow of a foothold in the darkness. Then the TARDIS door swung open, spilling light onto the stone floor and silhouetting two figures.

'Cold and dark,' said Ace. 'Can we try again?'

'It wouldn't be so dark if you took off your sungla.s.ses,' the Doctor's voice called from behind her.

Ace wrinkled her nose in the gloom as she pulled off her mirrored sungla.s.ses and held them out. The Doctor sniffed cautiously at them as he examined the sungla.s.ses in the gloom. Then he s.n.a.t.c.hed them from her hand and stuffed them into a jacket pocket.

'They obviously couldn't afford the electric bill.' The Doctor pulled the TARDIS door closed after him and locked it.

'Don't be facetious, Doctor.'

The Doctor peered through the semi*darkness at Ace. 'I'm not being facetious.' He touched her lightly on the nose and Ace flinched. 'It takes a lot of power to heat and light a big place like this.'

'Not in the middle ages, it doesn't. And anyway, n.o.body lives here now.' Ace drew her finger down the dusty wall of the corridor to make her point. It came away clean, and she inspected it in the gloom for a moment, then looked quizzically at the Doctor.

'Yes.' The Doctor stood stock*still, his hand held up to keep Ace quiet. His dark figure looked like a statue waiting for night to break and the sun to rise over a distant courtyard, Eventually his hand dropped to his side and he turned. Ace could see one side of his face where the light caught it. Her eyes were getting accustomed to the darkness. 'It is very quiet,' murmured the Doctor. 'Except for that hum.' He c.o.c.ked his head to listen again. Ace could hear nothing. She shuffled her feet impatiently in dust that did not move or stick.

Then the Doctor was off, striding down the dim corridor, his umbrella catching what light there was as swung in tune to his steps.

'Oh, Doctor ' Ace had to walk quickly to catch up, stubbing her foot on the raised edge of a flagstone. 'I can hardly see!'

The Doctor continued undeterred. 'Light thickens,' said mysteriously, as he rounded a comer Ace had failed to notice, She caught her step and hurried after him.

Tashman had managed to carve a thin slice down through the edge of the mud. Steam rose from the crack and the damp edges were dried and fragile, lumps crumbling off where the disrupter had lingered. A web of veins spread out from the narrow gap between the main ma.s.s and the relatively thin pillar which now stood beside it.

Krayn was aiming the water cannon at the base of the mud, preparing to wash the foundation from under the sliver which Tashman had detached. Benny joined Gilmanuk as he watched uneasily from a safe distance. His face brightened as she approached. Then he saw the serious look in her eyes and his demeanour changed to concern.

'What is it?' he asked as she reached him.

Benny shook her head and gestured at the tunnel mouth. 'Come with me, will you?' She remembered too well how good the acoustics were. She was not sure she was ready to publicize what had happened: already she was beginning to doubt it herself. Then she felt the constriction in her throat as she spoke, and she knew it had happened.

'I think we should wait a moment.' Gilmanuk nodded towards the water cannon. A jet of white water shot out from the nozzle, taking away the outer bottom corner of the new mud pillar. It worked its way slowly inwards and downwards as Krayn made minute adjustments. The mud was very damp, but it remained a solid lump as it peeled away from its parent and toppled slowly towards the floor under the tunnel entrance. For a moment it paused on it newly cut comer, then gravity gave it one more little pull and the ma.s.s of mud continued over and down. It gathered momentum as it went and slammed into the ground with a slapping squelch that echoed round the theatre and within Benny's head. The bottom half of the newly formed step splayed out under its own weight, but the whole thing held together.

'Well done,' called Benny, and Krayn answered with a smile and a wave. 'We'll test it for you.'

Mystified, Gilmanuk followed her as she went towards the step. It came up to just below her waist a little tricky, but not too difficult to clamber up. They would need a total of six steps probably to reach up to the opening above. She was not prepared to wait until they had finished.

Luckily this first step was slightly away from the back wall so the ropes still swung loose. Benny helped Gilmanuk up onto the slippery surface of the mud. It was solid enough for her feet not to sink in, but she almost slipped over several times as she leant over to pull the nearest rope towards her. She grasped it at last and started to climb up out of the theatre.

Blackness, No moon. No stars. Nothing. Ace peered up at the dark opening a few feet above her, a slit of black in the murky grey of the wall.

'Heavy cloud?' she suggested.

'I'm not sure.' The Doctor shrugged. He stared up at the window pensively, his eyebrows tight and his forehead creased.

'Well, there must be something out there.' Ace squatted down in front of the Doctor, knitting the fingers of her hands together to make a cradle. 'Here, I'll give you a bunk up.'

'Thanks.' He lifted his foot into Ace's hands and reached up for a hold on the ledge at the bottom of the narrow window. He could just reach, fingers scrabbling for a purchase, as Ace stood upright, hoisting the Doctor up as she did so.

'What can you see, Doctor?'