Doctor Who_ The Myth Makers - Donald Cotton [40]
‘But when I suggested that to him yesterday,’ said Steven –
so he’d suggested it now? – ‘the Doctor said it wouldn’t work!’
‘Well, now he’s been converted,’ I said, ‘thinks it’s the greatest idea since Prometheus invented external combustion!
Mind you,’ I admitted, ‘that’s only since he decided man wasn’t meant to fly – otherwise we’d have been up to here by now in giant paper darts!’
I explained about that; and, for the first time, Vicki perked up a bit. ‘He’s gone gaga – thats what it is!’ she squeaked. If that’s his form at the moment, Steven, I’m not so worried about the competition. I’m bound to come up with something at least marginally better than that, I should think.’
‘Such as?’ he enquired, sourly.
‘Well, give me time – I’ll get there.’
‘As long as you let me know when you have, so that I can work out a way of stopping you. Don’t be fatuous, Vicki: if you win, then the Doctor’s for the high jump!’
‘And if he wins, we are – yes, I keep forgetting. Oh dear, isn’t it all complicated?’
‘Very,’ he gloomed. There was a long silence, to which I contributed as heartily as anyone. I did wonder whether to cheer them up by telling them about Odysseus’ plan for do-it-yourself loot, rape, and pillage – but decided against it. No point in piling what’sit on thingummy, is there?
But after a while there was an interruption – provided by young Troilus, in a state of ill-concealed seething jealousy. Well, if it wasn’t one prince, it was another.
Steven tactfully removed himself from the grating, where for the last half-hour he’d been doing his impression of ‘The Thinker’ – and, personally, I pretended to be unconscious. I’d got quite enough to worry about, without getting involved in a teenage tiff!
Before getting down to the main business of the day, Troilus asked who I was.
‘Oh, nobody of any importance,’ explained Vicki, ‘it’s just someone who’s lost an eye.’
‘And you’re helping him look for it, I suppose? Really, Cressida – how many men do you want in your life?’
She flew at him – as well she might. I wasn’t likely contender in ‘The most eligible bachelor’ stakes, at the time... ‘I’ve been nursing him, that’s all! I suppose you wouldn’t understand about a thing like that, you great musclebound oaf? What do you mean, how many men?’
‘Well, what about this Diomede, then? I tell you here and now, I didn’t believe a word of that story about meeting him at the Olympic Games. Diana’s Grove, indeed! What do you take me for?’
She froze. ‘I prefer not to take you at all: but if I have to, it’s as a silly little jealous boy, with tantrums! It so happens that Diomede is a very dear friend of mine!’
‘A friend? And is that all?’
‘All? I suppose you couldn’t understand about friendship, would you? Oh no, it’s all soppy love and kisses with you, isn’t it?’
‘As a matter of fact...’
‘Well, you needn’t bother!’
‘Very well then, I won’t!’
And lots more to the same effect. Really! At a time like this!
‘He’s in the next cell, I suppose?’
‘And what if he is?’
‘It just seems very convenient, that’s all!’
‘Convenient for what?’
‘Friendship – so you say!’
‘Oh, of course it is,’ said Vicki. ‘The wall’s only about three feet thick. Just the thing for playing noughts and crosses on. We do that a lot!’
‘I suppose you’re going to say now, you don’t use the executioner’s hatch?’
‘The executioner’s what? I don’t think I know that game.’
‘Stop pretending! It’s right under your nose, here.’ And Troilus swivelled a pivotted stone slab. ‘It’s the way the headsman comes in at night. If we get a lot of difficult prisoners who look as if they’re going to make a fuss, he goes from cell to cell, and kills them while they’re asleep. Saves a lot of trouble. I know about it, because father used to send us to play down here, when we were boys. Look, your other friend’s got his head on the block now.’
I sat up instantly. Not a pleasant thought.
‘Well,’ continued Troilus, ‘aren’t you going to come in, Diomede? I mean, don’t