Doctor Who_ The Myth Makers - Donald Cotton [15]
‘A miracle, eh?’ mused Odysseus. ‘Well, that, of course, would be most satisfactory.’ Even Menelaus perked up, and looked quite excited at the prospect.
‘Conclusive proof, I would say,’ he judged; and then spoilt it all by adding, ‘of something or other.’
But Agamemnon wanted tomorrow’s programme itemised.
‘And exactly what sort of miracle do you intend to show us?’ he enquired.
The Doctor improvized... ‘Why – I shall – er – I shall strike him with a thunderbolt from Heaven! That’ll teach him!’
‘Oh, very spectacular!’ approved Odysseus. ‘Well, we shall see. Our weather is so unpredictable. And tomorrow, if there is no thunder on the plain, I have a sword will serve for two, as well as one.’
As if to confirm his doubts, the next day dawned to a heavy drizzle. But you can’t beat a good public execution for box-office; and in spite of the rain, quite a crowd of those concerned assembled to enjoy the spectacle.
The two principals, Steven and the Doctor, were there, of course. And both Agamemnon and Odysseus were in close support, together with a motley assemblage of the brutal and licentious, come to see the fun.
But Achilles wasn’t there – he was sulking in his tent again, having had his triumph postponed in favour of the major attraction.
And Menelaus wasn’t – he had a hangover.
And one other essential item was missing: not a temple of Zeus was to be seen anywhere!
Overnight the TARDIS had vanished.
9
Temple Fugit
At first, the Doctor and Steven took the panic-stricken assumption that Vicki had somehow dematerialized the TARDIS, by sitting down on the control panel, or something; but, in fact, she had done nothing of the sort – and just as well for everybody.
No, at that very moment, the poor child was being shaken about like a ticket in a tombola, as Prince Paris and a patrol of Trojans trundled the time-machine into Troy, as spoils of war!
Somehow they had contrived to get the thing up onto rollers, and were bumping it along in a way that boded no good to its already erratic mechanism – or to Vicki’s either, come to that.
But, of course, we weren’t to know that at the time, and the Doctor looked as foolish as a conjuror, who, about to produce the promised rabbit, discovers he’s left it in his other hat!
‘It should be somewhere here,’ he temporized. ‘Or perhaps further to the left... it’s extremely hard to say. These sand-hills are so much alike...’
‘Or, perhaps, Father Zeus, the weight of centuries has made you absent-minded?’ suggested Odysseus, nastily. ‘You’re quite sure, now, that you ever had a temple?’
‘Of course I had, you must have seen it yourself! Every god has a temple, has to have, or people stop believing in you in no time...’
‘Precisely my point. And what I saw yesterday didn’t strike me as being particularly ecclesiastical. More like a sort of rabbit-hutch,’ he explained to the others.
‘Nothing of the sort! Ask Achilles, if you don’t believe me; he saw it materialize.’
‘So he said. But then, Achilles will say anything to be the centre of attention. In any case, unfortunately for you, he’s not here. No doubt he felt he’d championed a losing cause and held it tactful to be absent.’
The skies had blown clear by now, but not before the rains had softened the ground, and Agamemnon was casting about for tracks, like an over-weight boar-hound. ‘ Something has been here,’ he admitted, indicating the furrows in the mud, left by the TARDIS, ‘Look...’
‘Aye, and someone, too,’ agreed Odysseus, ‘some several tracks which lead across to Troy! Enough of this foolishness!
Your friends in the city have doubtless thought your ruse successful, and reclaimed their own.’
‘They’ve captured it, you mean,’ contradicted the Doctor,
‘you must help me to get it back – and at once.’
‘And walk into a trap, of course? Yes, you’d like that I’m sure. Admit your fault. Lord Agamemnon, these men are both spies.’
‘So it would begin to seem,’ said the general, reluctantly.
‘Very well, bring forward the prisoner. Now, Father Zeus, – you have but one chance left to prove yourself. Kill this