Part 8 (1/2)

'Yes but '

'Oh just enjoy it, Ace. This is a pivotal scene, and you won't see it played for real like this again.'

The Doctor tweaked the tapestry back a fraction and sneaked a look at Hamlet and his mother. Over his shoulder Ace could see Hamlet in mid flow: 'You go not, till I set you up a gla.s.s Where you may see the inmost part of you.'

Ace prodded the Doctor in the shoulder. 'Do you remember what happens next?' she asked him. She was suddenly worried that she could recall this scene quite clearly. Like the way one's life was supposed to flash before the eyes.

'Yes of course.' He was irritated. 'This is the bit where ' He broke off, his mouth still open, worry creasing his forehead.

'What ho! Help!' screamed the old man's voice from beside them. But he was nowhere to be seen. 'Help help!' the voice screamed again.

'I think we should have hidden somewhere else,' the Doctor murmured almost audibly. 'When I say run, run.' He hooked the handle of his umbrella round the edge of the heavy material, ready to haul it aside so they could escape.

But before they could move, Hamlet's voice shouted from immediately beyond the tapestry: 'How now! a rat?' Ace heard the cloth rip, the threads breaking one by one as the blade sliced down through it. She leaned back against the wall as the knife continued down toward her and Hamlet screamed in triumph. 'Dead for a ducat, dead!'

Source Doc.u.ment 5 Transcript of Report from Jarnus Lox, captain of the Lime Light Lime Light to Rippearean High Command to Rippearean High Command Central Rippearean Registry, originated 19*10*3985 As expected, the Heletians are withdrawing on all fronts. They are sustaining heavier casualties than antic.i.p.ated by sim*prog enactment 509, mainly since their retreat is slower than predicted.

This tardiness is due almost entirely to the fact that they are destroying every emplacement as they leave it. This includes those based in civilian areas and on populated planets. There is, regrettably, much loss of life amongst these communities.

Art and cultural treasures (especially those pertaining to theatre) are removed and transported back to Heletia under heavy guard more security than the troop carriers are afforded. This is entirely in accordance with projection 509 and with the Dream Scenario Dream Scenario. There is no reason to suppose that their imminent evacuation of the team on Menaxus will be other than according to this pattern.

Chapter 5.

Three Characters in Search of an Author Devereaux Watkins, on the other hand, is an example of a playwright driven almost entirely by the medium. Whereas Osterling and Shakespeare considered the story generally as a way of eliciting character, Watkins drove his characters in response to the plot. And the plot was dictated by the effects currently available.To be fair, the early twenty*first century was rife with innovation. Theatre had become a sensation rather than a catharsis. The amalgamation of cinema, music concert and games machine was never an easy partners.h.i.+p. Watkins merely played to its advantages. So his best*remembered play, Death's Bane features statues that are seen to come to life and take over from their living counterparts not, as Osterling would have proposed, as a final condemnation of the failures of the flesh, but simply because this was the effect which Rumbelow had devised for the Drury Lane theatre that month.Watkins used the technology because it was there. It is no surprise that the accounts of the time, and the memories of all of us who have seen a revival of his work, dwell on what happened rather than why it happened, or to whom.The Dramatist's Art F. Van der Cleele, 2811 F. Van der Cleele, 2811 The others all watched as Fortalexa examined the control panel. His fingers brushed over the b.u.t.tons and read*outs until they rested on a b.u.t.ton below the flas.h.i.+ng red light He tapped gently beside it several times, then looked round the expectant faces. 'Well, here goes,' he said. Everyone craned a little closer.

He pressed the b.u.t.ton. The light went out. It stayed out. They all waited, and Fortalexa rubbed his hands together proudly.

Benny sighed audibly. 'Is that it?'

'Well, yes. I've switched it from stand*by to off.' Fortalexa seemed to think this was a major achievement. Judging by the expressions of the others, he was alone in the a.s.sumption. He busied himself about the controls again. 'Now we can get this cover off and really see what's going on inside.'

Benny exchanged an exasperated look with Gilmanuk. Lennic leaned forward, her face intent. You said you knew what it was for.'

'What?' Fortalexa stopped his efforts at prying away the metal cover for a moment. 'Oh, yes. It's how it does it I'm interested in.' He went back to work and managed to pull the cover clear of the controls.

'Look,' Bannahilk was getting impatient. 'Will you just stop that and tell us what it is?'

'Sorry sir.' He was crestfallen. 'I thought it was obvious, he hazarded then went on quickly: 'It's a crude virtual reality projector. You program in the subject from a prepackaged set, and the result appears down there.' He pointed down through the window towards the stage.

'What sort of subject?'

'Oh, theatre you know, plays.'

Klasvik shouldered his stooped way past Benny and pushed through to face Fortalexa. 'Plays? What plays. This could be extremely valuable, if it contains a lost work by Brachnid or some of Tergenev's earlier experimental drama.'

'Yes, well, as I say you select the one you want on the panel from a predefined set.'

'But what is in the set?' Benny was not sure if he was being deliberately obtuse, or whether his enthusiasm had genuinely got the better of him. She suspected the former.

'Well, how should I know? You stopped me before I could trace which b.u.t.ton punches it up on the read*out.

Now Benny knew she was right. 'I've got a friend you should meet,' she told him. 'You'd get on like two Arcturans in a goldfish bowl.'

'Er, excuse me.' Gilmanuk had been looking do through the window, as he spoke he seemed to rise up over the machine. Benny blinked in surprise and Fortalexa took a step backwards. Gilmanuk was undeterred: 'You say this machine projects an image, an image of a pre*programmed play, at the stage down there.'

'A holographic representation, probably according to set of performance criteria. Like I want to see The Weavers The Weavers in thirty*first century dress with a Crotist interpretation, or whatever.' in thirty*first century dress with a Crotist interpretation, or whatever.'

'You also said you had switched it off.'

'Yes.'

Gilmanuk leaned towards the window again, pus.h.i.+ng his gla.s.ses up his nose. 'So who are they?' he asked pointing at the two figures standing at the front of the stage.

Ace was somewhat confused, although she had to admit that she was probably no less confused than was usual when keeping company with the Doctor. The knife had just nicked her left ear as she dived away from it, expecting to smash her head against the stone of the wall behind her. Instead she had thumped it into some sort of muddy sculpture, parts of which seemed to compose a badly proportioned makes.h.i.+ft stairway to heaven. Or rather, to a ragged hole in the wall above them.

She shook her head to clear it and looked round partly to see where she was, and partly to see where the Doctor was. She eventually found him crouched behind her, examining the floor.

'We're on a stage.' She tried not to sound surprised.

The Doctor was equally calm. 'All the world's a stage Ace,' he proclaimed as he stood up and dusted his hands together. 'And it seems that all the men and women were merely players.'

'But where did they go?'

'They have their exits and their entrances,' he said, widening his eyes in surprise as if amazed by the lyrical flow of his own turn of phrase.

'I think there's somebody making an entrance up there.' Ace pointed towards the back of the theatre. Several dark figures were emerging from the gloom as they ran down the auditorium towards them.

Ace and Doctor watched them draw closer. 'It's raining,' said the Doctor, as if that explained everything. He gestured at the makes.h.i.+ft plastic*sheet ceiling high above them. 'Don't do anything rash, will you Ace?' he continued as she reached towards her pocket, his umbrella colliding with her right hand and slowly helping it back down to her side. He was probably right, the two nearest figures already had weapons drawn. The taller of the two men dropped to his knees and levelled his disruptor at them. He gripped it in both hands, combat*style.

'Stay exactly where you are. Do not move. Do not attempt any aggressive act.' The words had an automatic ring about them. Which meant that these people were professionals. Ace and the Doctor stood as still as statues.

The kneeling soldier kept them covered while his companion came up to them. Behind the soldiers, Ace could see more figures approaching. But these were less a.s.sured, nervous almost. One of them was not nervous. She moved with a more confident gait, lacking the tense caution of the soldiers. There was something familiar about her figure and her movements. Her body language.

The soldier standing beside Ace looked her over for a couple of seconds. 'I think we may be about to get some explanation for what's been happening here, don't you think, Fortalexa?'

But before the kneeling figure could reply, Benny said, 'I don't think so Bannahilk. I know these two, and they're just archaeologists I'm afraid. They're colleagues of mine.' She paused for a moment, as if trying to think of something to say. 'I expect they just dropped in to see how we were getting on,' she finished lamely.

'h.e.l.lo, Benny,' said the Doctor raising his hat in greeting. 'We just thought we'd drop in and see how you were getting on.'

The soldier Benny had called Bannahilk still had his gun levelled. His eyes narrowed as he turned to examine the Doctor.