Doctor Who_ Daemons - Barry Letts [3]
'But tonight, the enigma will be solved! Tonight, at midnight , the witching hour, the viewers of the B.B.C. will have the privilege of being present when Professor Gilbert Horner, the noted archaeologist...'
Again he was interrupted. The burly figure of Professor Horner lumbered into the picture. 'Got round to me at last, have you? About time too! Hey, you there with the camera—bring it over here! Come on!' And off he stumped into the hole cut into the great mound behind him, followed by the camera and the feebly expostulating Alastair Fergus.
Professor Horner was always a great favourite with a television audience, guaranteed never to stick to the script, guaranteed to speak his mind and call a spade a spade, guaranteed to lose his temper with fools and generally make himself unpleasant—he was of course universally loved. To see him disconcert the other great favourite, the oh-so-smooth Alastair Fergus himself, was a treat rare in the annals of broadcasting.
Struggling gamely to regain the initiative, Alastair stumbled down the muddy tunnel, talking hard. 'I'm sure the viewers will be fascinated, Professor. What exactly are are you going to...'
Professor Horner reached the end of the tunnels and pointed firmly at an unappetising clod of earth. 'There. That's the spot. Six inches behind that lies the biggest archaeological find this country has known since Sutton Hoo.'
Alastair Fergus struggled into range of the camera, muddy and irritable. 'Sutton Hoo. Ah yes. Would you like to explain that reference, Professor.'
'No, I wouldn't.'
Alastair wouldn't give in. 'Sutton Hoo was, of course, the place where the greatest archaeological...'
'Never mind about Sutton Hoo, lad. This is what your precious viewers are interested in... the Devil's Hump and what's inside it. Right?'
Back in the Duty Office, the Doctor leaned forward intensely. Alastair Fergus rallied. 'And what is inside it?'
'Treasure, that's what. The tomb of a great warrior chieftain, 800 B.C.'
'No, no, no...' murmured the Doctor.
Jo glanced at him. His face was as desperately concerned as ever she had seen it. 'Doctor... what's wrong?'
The Doctor shook his head and nodded towards the screen.
Jo turned back to watch.
'And why tonight, Professor? I mean, why open the barrow this night in particular? And why at midnight ?'
The Professor growled. Several million viewers sat up, eager for the edged retort, the quick insult, the snap of teeth in poor Alastair's soft white hide. 'I should have thought that that would have been obvious to the meanest mind. Seems I was wrong.'
Several million sighs of satisfaction.
'April 30th,' the Professor continued, 'Beltane, isn't it?'
Alastair took a deep gulp of much-needed air. 'Beltane?'
'The good Lord preserve me from overpaid incompetent nincompoops! You ought to do your homework before you—'
Alastair Fergus's indignation was great. He dared to interrupt. 'I know, Professor Horner... and you know... but perhaps some of our viewers might like to know as well. What is Beltane? Please!'
For once in his lifetime the Professor was taken aback. 'Ah... yes... I see... Beltane,' he said, 'greatest occult festival of the year, bar Hallowe'en.'
The Doctor jumped to his feet. 'Beltane, of course!'
Jo looked at him, amazed. 'But, Doctor! I thought you said you don't believe in all that.'
Once again the Doctor hushed her.
A deep growling roar came from the TV set. The Professor was laughing. 'Ghosts? Witches? Demons? Of course I don't believe in 'em, lad. It's just that my new book comes out tomorrow!'
Alastair's tone was acid. 'So it's what you might call a publicity stunt?'
'Top of the class, lad!' said Professor Horner approvingly.
The Doctor growled. 'Most implausible,' he commented. 'His mind's being manipulated.'
'Whose mind?' asked Jo. 'That creep of an interviewer's?'
'No, no,' replied the Doctor. 'The Professor's mind.