Doctor Who_ Bad Therapy - Matthew Jones [57]
Melanie let her bucket and mop drop. She was still standing in silence, shaking and breathing in desperate gasps, when the station staff found her five minutes later. As they walked her slowly back into the station house, dirty soap suds from the spilt bucket spread across the clean station platform like a miniature flood.
As the first Westbound train of the day continued on its journey to London, it rattled past a level crossing where a London taxi waited patiently to continue on its way towards Healey. And in the guard’s van of the train, a uniformed figure stood silently in the shadows.
96
Interlude
Gilliam’s Story
On the third day, Gilliam woke to great commotion. She pulled on her work clothes and climbed out of her thermo-tent to find a couple of dozen people milling around Petruska’s chamber, bringing in equipment and setting up living quarters. The arrangements reminded her of her own college days: despite the different cultures it was still recognizable as an archeological dig.
A rounded, bearded man appeared to be directing the proceedings, scolding younger members of his team – for getting in his way – and generally fussing.
When he caught sight of Gilliam, he bustled over as fast as his short legs would carry him.
‘Highness,’ he began and bowed low. ‘An honour to finally meet you. I’d heard of your interest in the discipline, but if I’d known it was so –’ he gestured around the ancient chamber ‘– active, I would have had the university approach you myself.’
Gilliam cut him off with a sharp flick of her hand. ‘The king sent you here, didn’t he?’
The short professor was sweating in the morning heat, but that wasn’t why he looked so uncomfortable. ‘I received a request from the royal barge last night to give your Highness whatever assistance necessary for you to complete your work. I was working out in the K’tum Pi desert, an investigation into the palace ostraca of the Ker’ana Ton Warriors. Most of it is soldiers’ love poetry –
very erotic stuff. You may have read my work on the subject?’
Gilliam shook her head; she was beginning to feel like a little girl who hadn’t finished her homework assignment.
The professor wiped his sweaty, red face with his handkerchief and then stuffed it back in the pocket of his robe. ‘To tell you the truth, this early period isn’t an interest of mine. With so much written on the first family it’s hard to find a new angle – to really make one’s mark.’
He turned to look at her again and smiled approvingly. ‘Which makes your work all the more special, Highness. I took the liberty of reading through your field notes, when I arrived. Very promising. You do seem to have stumbled across something of real interest and importance though. Treasonable declarations from the first queen of Kr’on Tep hidden in her love songs. You 97
may have uncovered a proto-feminist covert communication network. Who knows what messages may be hidden in the other songs of the period? Quite astonishing.’ He tapped his chin thoughtfully, considering something. ‘Proto-feminist covert communication network,’ he said, quoting himself. ‘I like the sound of that.’
He paused, as if struck by a new thought, and looked a little guiltily at his queen. ‘The university will want to recognize your vital contribution to this discovery, of course. An honorary doctorate perhaps? Perhaps even patron of a college?’
‘Professor.’ Gilliam cut through his stream of words.
He stopped talking and blinked at her. ‘Yes, Highness?’
‘Get out.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘You have two minutes to get yourself and your colleagues out of here. And if you personally say another word I shall treat it as an act of treason. Is that clear?’
The professor opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He nodded.
‘Good. I see that we understand each other.’
She watched him gather up his research team, who looked completely bemused at having to leave before they had even finished unpacking. But in one and three quarter minutes, Gilliam was alone in Petruska’s chamber.
Very promising, indeed! The patronizing