Part 23 (2/2)

This time Ace did leap to her feet. 'Then it will happen again the machine will ma.s.sacre everyone here.'

The Doctor nodded slowly. 'It seems likely. The fact that you've seen one of the robots outside the machine suggests that the program is already running. Probably we re too late to stop it now.'

Ace was already at the door. 'But we have to try. Marlock and his cronies may be murderers and war criminals, but there are loads of innocent people here too. We have to stop the ma.s.sacre.'

But the Doctor made no effort to move. 'I'm not sure, Ace,' he said.

Ace almost laughed in surprise, and was about to remonstrate with him when Benny spoke.

'There is just one small point I'd like to make before we continue the discussion,' she said. 'Menaxus wasn't destroyed by the machine. There never was an invasion of Menaxus no performance, no ma.s.sacre.'

The outburst by the pathetic old man had frightened the Exec. He was acutely aware of his own mortality already. The sudden force of Klasvik's verbal attack had heightened his fears. He stroked Lannic's hair as he worried. The performance of The Good Soldiers The Good Soldiers that was an obvious place for an a.s.sa.s.sin to strike. The audience was composed entirely of specifically invited courtiers and senior officers, but even so. that was an obvious place for an a.s.sa.s.sin to strike. The audience was composed entirely of specifically invited courtiers and senior officers, but even so.

'Is it worth all the fuss,' he asked Lannic, 'this performance?'

She looked up at him, running the underside of her smooth chin over the palm of his hand. 'The greatest play ever written? The chance to host the first performance of The Good Soldiers The Good Soldiers in millennia worth it? The universe will talk of nothing else for years.' in millennia worth it? The universe will talk of nothing else for years.'

He nodded. 'I suppose so,' he said glumly. 'I suppose so.' He was silent for a while. Lannic nibbled his fingers playfully, but he seemed not to notice. 'I suppose nothing can go wrong? With the machine, I mean.'

Lannic took his hand and squeezed it gently. 'Fortalexa will make sure everything's fine.'

The Exec nodded, but he felt little better. He beckoned one of his bodyguards over. 'Have the theatre searched. Make sure everything is is safe.'

Mutina Nuranjo had been cast in the Palace Guard Troupe after seeing active service in three campaigns. She had been lucky to survive the advance on Veterov: the troop carrier was shot down over Bostra and all but seventy three of the pa.s.sengers were killed in the initial missile hit; another sity eight burned up on the way down or were fried on impact. Three of them survived the twenty nine days until they were picked up.

After that she had been a.s.signed to light duties to recover, in the camps on Phaselis Minor. But despite her front*line action, her stomach was not up to the job and she requested a transfer. She was lucky to get a.s.signed to the palace rather than have her tour extended.

Now that the tide of the war had turned, her feelings were ambiguous. A part of her longed to return to the front to do what she could to defend the territory she had fought so hard to gain. But a part of her liked the easy life of palace duties: the parades and inspections, the politics and the gossip. And if she dared to acknowledge it, a part of her felt that a people who could condone what she had seen in the camps what she had done done in the camps deserved to be defeated, and wanted no part in the military decision. in the camps deserved to be defeated, and wanted no part in the military decision.

But whatever her inner mental turmoil, her physical reactions were trained beyond her control. So when she saw the outline of the figure shrouded in the shadows at the top of the stairs, rather than ignore it and check on Fortalexa and the machine as her body and her commander wanted, she leaped back and drew her disruptor.

On Bostra, similar reactions had saved her life. At the top of the stairway to the Queen's box of the royal theatre, the result was quite different. She loosed one bolt before the huge figure grabbed her and smashed her against the wall. Nuranjo's body mocked gravity for second, splayed against the concrete. Then it slid slowly to rest, slipping down several steps and leaving a dark sticky trail across the grey of the wall.

Sub*direkter Hacilar and his team had found nothing. Exactly as Hacilar had expected, He ordered another sweep of the auditorium. Just in case, but he knew what the result would be. Hacilar sprawled in a seat in the back row and watched the useless search. He could hear the detectors bleeping their frustration as the soldiers swept them to and fro as they retreated up the aisles and pushed their way between the seats.

'Anything?'

Hacilar pulled his feet down from their rest across the back of the seat in front and stood up briskly. But it was just the technician from the box above Fortalexa. 'No, nothing.' He sat down again. 'Boring as a mid*week matinee.'

'Good.'

'I told them we'd be wasting our time. Should be on an interval now we were due off duty ages ago.'

'Best to be safe.'

Hacilar heard the technician's footsteps behind him as Fortalexa went back to the door. He heard the door open, and the steps paused.

'By the way...'

Hacilar twisted round in his seat. 'Yes?'

Fortalexa was standing sideways in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his legs braced against the door to hold it open. 'You sent a trooper up to check the box.'

'Yes Nuranjo.'

Fortalexa shrugged. 'Whoever. I asked her to run a couple of errands while she was there. Hope that's all right.' He pushed himself upright, the door started to swing closed behind him.

'Yeah fine.' Hacilar called after him, turning back towards the stage. 'Tell her she can go off duty when she's done.'

Benny made the most of the attention she was getting. 'I'm talking about what I found at the Braxiatel Collection,' she said. 'What I discovered about Menaxus and its history.'

'And what was that?'

'Well first of all, there are no doc.u.ments relating to any aspect of Menaxan life which doesn't directly involve the theatre itself.'

The Doctor leaned forward in interest, balancing his chin on the handle of his umbrella. 'Really?'

Benny nodded. 'And all the doc.u.ments there are were donated to the collection on the same date. About six years ago. Just before Lannic found them.'

'They could have been donated by the same person someone only interested in the theatre so he kept nothing else,' suggested Ace.

'I thought of that. So I cross*referenced with all the doc.u.mentation, on other planets in the sector.'

'And?'

'And there's no reference to Menaxus at all. Not to theatre, not to anything.'

'Strange.' The Doctor tapped the umbrella on the floor, his chin rising and falling with it. 'Very strange. You'd expect something.'

'Yes, you would. But just being strange didn't help much. Especially with all the other strange things about Menaxus.'

'Such as?'

'Such as a theatre which is great when it's a ruin, but has appalling acoustics when it has an audience of any size in it. Like piles of rubble which the Braxiatel computer insists can't possibly have ever been part of any actual structure.'

'Like an open*air theatre,' suggested Ace, looking at the Doctor, 'on a planet where it pours with rain half time?'

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