Free Doctor Who: The Myth Makers by Donald Cotton

nicer class of girl. So, thinking on these things, my steps were beginning to drag a bit; and I dare say that in another second or so I might well have given up the whole misguided project – when suddenly I heard my name mentioned. And that’s something will always set a chap to eaves-dropping, no matter how many times he hears ill of himself.
     
    So I peeked over the prow of the nearest longship; and yes
    – there were the Doctor and Steven, brows wrinkled and so on, poring over a lot of papers, and what looked like machine-drawings, spread out all over the – what do you call ’em? –
    thwarts, or something.
    ‘No my boy,’ the Doctor was saying, ‘it couldn’t possibly work in practice. It’s obviously just something Homer thought up as a good dramatic device. I would never dream of doing it myself.’
    Well, if he didn’t dream of doing it soon, I’d never think it up at all. I could have told him that there and then!
    That’s one of the troubles with time-travel, you see. The Doctor was always so anxious not to alter the course of history by meddling, that he sometimes didn’t realize history couldn’t happen if he didn’t give it a helping hand now and then. One sees the dangers, of course: get it wrong, and the whole future could be altered. And if you alter the future too much, you might very likely not get a chance to exist in it yourself, if you follow me? I suppose that’s why, in later years, he always preferred to go forward rather than backwards in time; so that, whatever happened, he couldn’t wipe himself clean off the slate by accident!
    But the trick is: don’t play the giddy-goat – just apply to the history books for instructions, and then get on with it. And since, apparently, I’d have written one myself before too long, all he had to do was what I told him. And I couldn’t wait to hear what that was! I soon learnt, however; and, I must say, I was tempted to agree with him. The whole idea was preposterous!
    ‘I don’t see why,’ argued Steven.
    ‘Well, supposing we did build a great wooden horse, and fill the thing with soldiers, why on earth should the Trojans drag it into the city? They’d be far more likely to burn it where it stood
     
    – and a pretty lot of fools we should all look then! Especially the soldiers!’ he added, after a pause.
    ‘No, especially us,’ Steven pointed out, ‘after Odysseus got through with us! I’m afraid you’re right, Doctor. And that being the case, you’d better hurry up and think of something else.
    We’ve only got forty-eight hours, remember!’
    ‘Forty-two now, in point of fact,’ said Odysseus pleasantly, climbing out of a sort of hatch-way, and swatting a wasp with a paint-brush. I suppose he’d been down in the bilges, caulking –
    or whatever it is you do in bilges. ‘Haven’t you thought of anything yet?’
    ‘Nothing of any particular value,’ admitted the Doctor, ‘at least, nothing to bring about the fall of Troy. But I have thought of some conditions of my own.’
    ‘That’s very presumptious of you, I must say. I really don’t see how you’re going to enforce them. But you may as well tell me what they are, I suppose. After all, it’s your time you’re wasting – not mine.’
    ‘It’s simply this: if I’m to help you sack the city, then you must promise that Vicki will be spared.’
    I was glad he’d remembered her at last. I was beginning to wonder. Odysseus looked puzzled. ‘Vicki? What’s that? And why should I spare it?’
    ‘Oh, do pull yourself together, and pay attention!’ said Steven – rather unwisely I thought. ‘I told you about Vicki only this morning. And if they have taken the TARDIS into Troy, then she’s probably still inside it.’
    ‘I hope so, for her sake,’ acknowledged Odysseus, ‘because, if she left it, they’d assume she was one of our spies; and, in that case, I’d say she’s probably past worrying about by now.’
    ‘We can’t be sure of that,’ said the