Part 10 (1/2)

Elliniko listened for a while longer, then he thank whoever he had called for their time and help, and broke the connection. His smile was broad and appeared totally genuine. He reached across the desk and shook Bernice's hand as if she were an old and treasured friend. 'Professor Summerfield welcome to the Braxiatel Collection.'

Benny stood, perplexed. But Elliniko was not to be stopped now. 'I shall allocate you a workstation and similarity studio immediately. The VIP suite is free, I believe.' He started off down the room, pausing politely to allow Bernice to catch up. 'I shall have the data you requested delivered to you as soon as we possibly can, Professor. Will you be with us long? I can arrange accommodation although the VIP suite does of course have its own lounge and washroom facilities if those will suffice.'

Ace was waiting for him when the Doctor emerged from the TARDIS. It was back in the lander's hold and Ace a.s.sured the Doctor that it had not been missed..

'They're too busy chasing after Tashman's hand. I said I'd stay and finish working out the controls.'

'What happened to Tashman's hand?'

'It's only his on a sort of finder's-keeper's basis.'

The Doctor was still confused. 'You mean he found found a hand?' a hand?'

'Oh yes. In the mud.' The Doctor seemed unenlightened. 'He thinks there's a whole arm in there, she offered helpfully.

'In where?'

'In the mud on the stage. Where we arrived, or whatever it was we did.'

The Doctor pondered for a moment, his eyes defocusing and his face slackening slightly. Then he blinked and fixed Ace with a steady stare. 'The stage. Yes. That will be the focal point.'

'Focal point?'

'The most dangerous area, if I'm right. Come on.'

'What if you're not right?' Ace asked him as they ran to the tunnel.

The Doctor stopped in mid step, and Ace went flying past as the law of momentum refused to stop. She stopped as soon as she could and waited for the Doctor to walk up to her.

He wore a hurt expression. 'I'm always right,' he told her, shouldering his umbrella and marching off down the tunnel.

They could see the archaeologists crowded round the stage. In the middle of the little crowd was the side of the huge ma.s.s of mud. It was only two thirds its original size,' the steps having taken the rest. And in the otherwise smooth*cut side was a rough indentation where Tashman had gouged out the dirt. From the middle of the resultant crater protruded what looked like a human hand.

The Doctor a.s.sumed control as soon as he was on the stage. Before long he had them all gathered round as he examined the hand, pus.h.i.+ng the mud back from the wrist with a scalpel that had mysteriously appeared in his grasp at some point.

Tashman leaned forward to see what the Doctor was up to now. He appeared to be examining the edge of a cuff attached to the hand's wrist. 'I thought about blasting away the remainder of the mud with the water cannon but it might damage the stone. If it is stone.'

'Oh it's stone all right.' The Doctor seemed preoccupied. He sc.r.a.ped more mud away and fixed a jeweller's gla.s.s in one eye. He prodded at the hand's wrist, moved round to give himself better light from the distant lamps which Tashman and Krayn had set up earlier, and frowned in concentration. After a long moment he looked up, the jeweller s gla.s.s dropping into his open hand and from there into his jacket pocket. He stared round at everyone. Ace could see him looking carefully at their arms.

Suddenly he caught hold of Bannahilk's jacket sleeve and pulled it towards him. Shocked, Bannahilk took a step forwards. But the Doctor dropped his arm in disgust and disappointment. He sat down heavily on the edge of the stage, unhooking his umbrella from his wrist resting in on the theatre floor and leaning his hands on it in front of his face. This brought his cuffs level with his eyeline and Ace saw him do a prize double take.

Then he was on his feet again, his eyes sharp with worry. 'Tashman,' he called across the stage. Tashman turn response, and the Doctor's instruction was clear and loud. 'Do it!'

They cleared the stage and sat on the tiered steps of the auditorium as Bannahilk and Tashman adjusted the angle and range of the jets.

'What's going on?' asked a voice from close behind Ace. She looked round to find Fortalexa standing behind her.

She told him. 'It'll be a wash*out,' he responded immediately, and she grimaced.

'How are you getting on with the machine?'

'Not bad, I suppose. I know exactly how to work it.'

'But?' She could tell from his voice that there was a but but.

'But I need the activator key.'

'And you don't have one?'

Fortalexa shook his head. 'No, I don't. So keep your eyes open.' He slumped down beside her. 'Where's your friend, professor Summerfield?'

Ace was not sure what she should tell him, so she asked instead 'What does this key look like?'

He seemed not to notice the change of subject. 'It's a rectangular card with an internal magnetic strip. Probably plastic. About so wide.' He held the thumb and forefinger of his right hand about as wide apart as they would go to demonstrate.

'I'll keep a look out,' Ace told him, but her words were drowned out by the sound of the water jets. .h.i.tting the wall of mud and burrowing inside it.

The Doctor was on his feet and staring towards the stage even before the jets had stopped. They could all see the three figures standing on the stage, vague shapes through the haze of water droplets, but distinct enough to be discernible characters waiting for a cue that would never come.

Ace joined the Doctor at the edge of the stage. The mist was clearing a little now and she could begin to make out more detail in the figures. They were posed, unnaturally upright like typical stone statues. But there was something more familiar about them. Two female, one male. Strangely she recognized the least familiar one first.

The rightmost figure was Lannic. She had seen this herself and was standing beside Ace, her mouth open in surprise, On Ace's other side the Doctor nodded grimly.

And at last Ace recognized the other two stone figures. One was herself, and the other was the Doctor.

ACT 2.

Source Doc.u.ment 6 Account of the opening performance of The Captain's Honour The Captain's Honour at the Pentillanian Theatre Oil Menaxus at the Pentillanian Theatre Oil Menaxus Braxiatel Collection Catalogue Number: 882PA Fragment. Author unknown. Date presumed to be c 2295 On Menaxus, as the capital of the most flouris.h.i.+ng society, theatrical representations without end prevail throughout the calendar in the Pentillanian Theatre.

The performance that it was my good fortune to attend was The Captain's Honour The Captain's Honour. This play by Osterling is not, in this reviewer's opinion, one of his most keen. Yet the interpretation of the Menaxan players was hailed as being as fresh as it was profound and I remember it with particular clarity. The majesty of the huge theatre lent the proceedings an air of spectacle I have not discerned in other versions.

Chapter 6.

Ace You Like It But for all the papers and posturing from Brett and his cronies, it remains unproven that a computer can think, even on a conscious level. Nagler's a.s.sertion that a computer is somehow capable of unconscious heuretic thought can discover and invent from the data fed to it is completely implausible. It works only in controlled experiments where the learning path is clearly defined before the data is provided. There is absolutely no way to prove Nagler's famous example of a computer choosing, apparently at random, a pa.s.sage of text which reflects upon and illuminates a current, unspoken context.The Myth of Artificial Intelligence Phil Houseman, 2009 Phil Houseman, 2009 Ace followed the Doctor as he stepped up onto the stage and began to fade into the mist.

'What are they, Doctor? How did they get here?'

'They're statues.'