The Ghosts of N-Space - Barry Letts [62]
In class today we learnt more about penguins than we wanted to know.
She knew exactly how the kid felt, thought Sarah, having heard in detail what was in the secret document. She was finding it hard to listen to anything other than her shouting stomach.
‘Mark you,’ the Doctor was saying, ‘if the alchemical instructions are correct, he won’t have long.’
‘No?’ Bread and water would do. Correction. Bread and water would be scrummy.
‘The crack in the barrier which will allow him to break through into N-space will start to open shortly before midnight, and seconds into tomorrow it will close again That is perfectly clear. However, I must say that I’m still puzzled by the reference to the dragon.’
‘Under the wing of the dragon,’ said Sarah. ‘Yes, I remember that.’ She remembered fish and chips, too.
Weren’t they a sort of – what was that word again? Oh yes, food.
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‘The dragon in medieval alchemy is often confused with the dragon of Christian mythology; the dragon slain by St George; the evil one, to be mystically vanquished. And sometimes its blood is referred to; a reference to red sulphur. But this is an Egyptian text. I think it must refer to Ouroboros. That’s his Greek name, of course.’
Perhaps her head was swimming with hunger. ‘And who s Ouroboros when he’s at home?’
‘A winged snake, crowned like a king, forever eating his own tail. Another symbol of the unification of opposites
– like the Yin/Yang sign. There you are you see, Taoism again.’
‘Well, what do you know,’ said Sarah. Penguins would be better than this. Penguins. Would they taste fishy?
A noise; a clatter and a bump at the door. Somebody was opening it. They’d never bring food at this time of night; and surely they wouldn’t…? The thought stopped abruptly with a gulp of fear.
The Doctor had slipped behind the door, and was frantically waving at her to join him.
The door edged open slowly, with a creak and a groan.
A whisper: ‘Jack? Doctor? Are you there?’
He led them hastily through winding ways to a small room near the front of the keep which seemed to be a sort of 219
tack room. Bridles, saddles and stirrups, and other bits of horsy gear which Sarah didn’t recognize lay about in neat profusion.
‘You’ll be safe here until dawn, he said in a hurried undertone. ‘If you change your appearance – not to appear so well-born, you understand – you should be able to leave as soon as the main gate is opened. There is always such a coming and a going that another couple of bodies will be neither here nor there.’
He made to leave.
‘I thank you, sir,’ said the Doctor.
‘Yes, thank you, Guido,’ said Sarah.
‘Nay, lad,’ he answered, grasping her by the hand and looking deep into her eyes. ‘It is I who should thank you.
Perchance we shall meet again one day. I go by the name of Guido il Menestrello. If not, fare thee well.’
He was gone.
The Doctor turned at once to Sarah. ‘Now listen,’ he said. ‘I must go at once to the Maximilian workshop. I must find out exactly what happens tonight, or I shall be completely at a loss when we get back. The best thing you can do –’
‘But we’ve got a chance of stopping him now!’
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The Doctor continued as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘The best thing you can do is to change gender again. Guido was right. Find a frock somewhere.’
A frock! Yes Mummy, of course Mummy. ‘I’m coming with you.’
‘You certainly are not. It’s far too dangerous.’
‘But Doctor –!’
The Doctor was at the door. ‘Now, be a good girl and do as you’re told,’ he said. ‘I’ll meet you here after midnight.’
In his turn, he too was gone.
Sarah was in two minds whether to ignore the Doctor and follow him – or better still, forget the whole thing, find the dairy and nick some cheese. The patronizing old beggar.
Be a good girl, indeed! Clorinda had tried saying that once and even Sarah herself had been surprised at the breadth of the vocabulary she’d acquired during her early days in the rough and tumble of local Scouse journalism.
In the end, however, she set off to look for the sewing room (to find a ‘frock’!) which