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been concluded pervaded the meeting. Open season on spies having been declared, Achilles and Odysseus, unanimous for once, drew their swords and advanced on the wretched Steven.
    At which point, the Doctor rose imperiously. ‘Stop,’ he commanded not a moment too soon, ‘Have you lost your senses the pair of you?’ The two heroes paused in mid-execution.
    ‘Ah, now we have it,’ grinned Odysseus, ‘On second thoughts, Zeus decides we should release him to return to Troy!’
    ‘Do not mock me, Lord Odysseus! What, would you stain the tent of Agamemnon with a Trojan’s blood?’
    Personally, I didn’t think one stain more or less would be noticed, but rhetoric must be served, I suppose, and the Doctor warmed to his theme accordingly. ‘I claim this quavering traitor as a sacrifice to Olympus! Bring him therefore to my temple in the plain at sunrise tomorrow, and then I will show you a miracle!’
    Here he contrived a covert wink at Steven, who seemed to think it was about time for something of the sort.
    ‘A miracle, eh?’ mused Odysseus. ‘Well, that, of course, would be most satisfactory.’ Even Menelaus perked up, and looked quite excited at the prospect.
    ‘Conclusive proof, I would say,’ he judged; and then spoilt it all by adding, ‘of something or other.’
     
    But Agamemnon wanted tomorrow’s programme itemised.
    ‘And exactly what sort of miracle do you intend to show us?’ he enquired.
    The Doctor improvized... ‘Why – I shall – er – I shall strike him with a thunderbolt from Heaven! That’ll teach him!’
    ‘Oh, very spectacular!’ approved Odysseus. ‘Well, we shall see. Our weather is so unpredictable. And tomorrow, if there is no thunder on the plain, I have a sword will serve for two, as well as one.’
    As if to confirm his doubts, the next day dawned to a heavy drizzle. But you can’t beat a good public execution for box-office; and in spite of the rain, quite a crowd of those concerned assembled to enjoy the spectacle.
    The two principals, Steven and the Doctor, were there, of course. And both Agamemnon and Odysseus were in close support, together with a motley assemblage of the brutal and licentious, come to see the fun.
    But Achilles wasn’t there – he was sulking in his tent again, having had his triumph postponed in favour of the major attraction.
    And Menelaus wasn’t – he had a hangover.
    And one other essential item was missing: not a temple of Zeus was to be seen anywhere!
    Overnight the TARDIS had vanished.
     
    9

Temple Fugit
    At first, the Doctor and Steven took the panic-stricken assumption that Vicki had somehow dematerialized the TARDIS, by sitting down on the control panel, or something; but, in fact, she had done nothing of the sort – and just as well for everybody.
    No, at that very moment, the poor child was being shaken about like a ticket in a tombola, as Prince Paris and a patrol of Trojans trundled the time-machine into Troy, as spoils of war!
    Somehow they had contrived to get the thing up onto rollers, and were bumping it along in a way that boded no good to its already erratic mechanism – or to Vicki’s either, come to that.
    But, of course, we weren’t to know that at the time, and the Doctor looked as foolish as a conjuror, who, about to produce the promised rabbit, discovers he’s left it in his other hat!
    ‘It should be somewhere here,’ he temporized. ‘Or perhaps further to the left... it’s extremely hard to say. These sand-hills are so much alike...’
    ‘Or, perhaps, Father Zeus, the weight of centuries has made you absent-minded?’ suggested Odysseus, nastily. ‘You’re quite sure, now, that you ever had a temple?’
    ‘Of course I had, you must have seen it yourself! Every god has a temple, has to have, or people stop believing in you in no time...’
    ‘Precisely my point. And what I saw yesterday didn’t strike me as being particularly ecclesiastical. More like a sort of rabbit-hutch,’ he explained to the