'On Shardybarn,' Trix explained, 'they had cathedrals built in your image.'

'Did they?' said Prubert delightedly.

'Yes,' said the Doctor. 'You, on your throne, pointing.'

'Are they still there?'

The Doctor shook his head. 'All gone, I'm afraid. Blew themselves up trying to persuade you to do an encore. . . '

'Oh. That's a pity.'

'Yes, it is is, isn't it?' said the Doctor sharply.

'One thing I don't get, though,' said Charlton. 'On Shardybarn we also saw these temples for a G.o.d with four faces. . . I think one was dog, another was a fish?'

'Ah, yes,' Prubert sighed. 'I had to wear this mask. You wouldn't believe how hot it got. I had to drink through a straw. And sweat, must've lost two stone. It was quite impressive, in the right light, if you didn't look too closely.'

'King Vargo wasn't impressive enough?' said the Doctor.

'That's what I said!' Prubert agreed. 'I didn't see why I had to wear it either, but they did insist! They said it was of crucial importance to the role. I said I saw the role differently. They said it didn't matter if I saw it differently.' He licked his lips. 'After a while, though, I stopped bothering with it. I'd wear it when I first arrived make a grand entrance then after a few minutes I'd slip it off.'

'Prubert Gastridge, you are an egomaniac.' The Doctor's features softened into a grin. 'Fortunately. If you'd kept the mask on, we'd never have known it was you.'

'It's always nice to be recognised,' said Prubert.

The Doctor took the chair beside him. 'You wouldn't be able to remember the names of the planets you went to?'

'The names?' Prubert winced. 'Don't think so. There were such lot. If I saw a list I might recognise some '

'A list, a list, a list. . . ' The Doctor held out a hand to Charlton. 'Do you have that Galactic Heritage leaflet?'

173.

Charlton nodded and pa.s.sed the Doctor the leaflet. The Doctor smoothed it open on the table in front of Prubert. 'Do these ring any bells?'

Prubert squinted at the paper.

'Shardybarn, Valuensis, Kootanoot, Darp, Diqdarl, Prum. . . '

His eyes darted down the page in astonishment. '. . . Perfugium, Zazz, Estebol, Rethgil, Huldraa, Minuea, Aighin, Tyza, Earth. . . ' He trailed an incredulous finger over the last names. '. . . Flamvolt, Zil, Oelid, Stavromula, Ryrus, Boojus Five, Wabbab, Ijij. . . it's them. All of them! All the planets I visited!'

'All planets listed by Galactic Heritage!' exclaimed Charlton.

The Doctor took the leaflet and creased it flat between his thumb and fore-finger. 'Now, isn't that a coincidence?'

Time for the Hercule Poirot scene, thought Fitz. The suspects had gathered in the conference room and it was time for the denouement. The moment when everything would fall into place. He hoped.

Dittero was sliding a laminate on to the overhead projector when Fitz strode into the projector light. Shielding his eyes, Fitz unplugged the projector. 'Excuse me,' he said. 'I have something to say.'

Around the table, each of the delegates started in surprise. Well, Vors.h.a.gg and Welwyn started, and Micron's two attendants raised their chins, but Poozle merely hovered.

'We have a murderer in our midst,' said Fitz, flicking on the ceiling lights.

'Someone here killed Nimbit and Question Intonation. . . and I think it's time we found out who.'

'Of course, Mr Kreiner,' said Dittero with a sarcastic tut. 'We have all the time in the world. Please, enlighten enlighten us. And then maybe we can proceed with the auction?' us. And then maybe we can proceed with the auction?'

'OK.' Fitz gathered his thoughts. 'I'll take you through my thought processes.

I'll begin with. . . er. . . Nimbit.

'Now, I'm asking myself, why would anyone want to kill Nimbit? The crucial moment, I think, occurred during the bidding for Valuensis. Nimbit was winning, if you remember. . . until Poozle requested an adjournment. Why?

The reason's obvious. Somebody didn't want Nimbit to win. Why not just bid against him though? Maybe the person couldn't afford to Nimbit was desperate to buy Valuensis, after all. Something they hadn't accounted for, you see.'

'That wasn't the reason why Nimbit died, though. He was always going to be murdered. Not because of anything he'd done. Just because it was part of the grand plan.'

Fitz paused to sip a gla.s.s of water. 'Next, Question Intonation. Before Questiony was murdered, it said to me that it wasn't here for the auction, it 174 was here for some other reason. It was working for someone or something and when they wanted to dispose of its services, they disposed of it, too.'

'But how did they do it?' asked Welwyn. 'Where did the other ball go?'

'I should've thought you'd have got that! Whoever it was working for requested a meeting, but then told Question Intonation they were still concerned about being overheard. They would have to go somewhere else. . . '

'Another planet?' breathed Welwyn.

'Right, so they open a tele-door, wait until one half of Question Intonation has pa.s.sed through '

' and close the tele-door,' grunted Vors.h.a.gg.

'Gosh, though,' said Welwyn. 'That's really awful.'

'Yes,' Dittero agreed. 'A ghastly ghastly way to go. If the two halves are separated ' way to go. If the two halves are separated '

' they both expire,' said Fitz. 'So, anyway, those are the murders. Now, the suspects. Who could have done this, who wanted the compet.i.tion dead, who couldn't afford the high prices the planets were fetching. . . ?' He pointed.

'Vors.h.a.gg!'

The lizard rose to its feet. 'How dare you!'

'Wait.' Fitz held up a palm. 'Vors.h.a.gg is, as we all know, an extremely vicious creature. Killing is its second nature.'

Vors.h.a.gg's eyes narrowed. 'Don't think you can get round me with flattery.'

'Our Vors.h.a.gg, though, has been fitted with a de-aggrifier. Meaning he's incapable of violent action. So he couldn't have killed anyone, could he? Or could he? Two things worried me. Firstly, that the murders were executed in a way that might not const.i.tute violence '

Vors.h.a.gg growled. 'My de-aggrifier forbids any action which may cause harm to another, even inadvertently.'

'Yes,' said Fitz. 'Secondly, I thought that maybe it was a malfunction. Maybe the thunderstorm that affected the Zwees also affected the de-aggrifier? But no, because we were with Vors.h.a.gg at the time; if the de-aggrifier had deactivated, he would have killed us all.'

Vors.h.a.gg nodded. 'I certainly would.'

'Anyway, Vors.h.a.gg couldn't be the murderer, for one simple reason. The concept of premeditated murder is completely alien to the Vors.h.a.gg race. You see, they are gratuitously gratuitously violent. They never kill for a violent. They never kill for a reason reason. So I'm sorry, Vors.h.a.gg, but much as you'd like to be, you're not the murderer.'

Vors.h.a.gg sat down sullenly.

'No, it's not Vors.h.a.gg,' Fitz turned and pointed, 'is it. . . Welwyn?'

The designer's mouth opened and closed like an aghast fish. 'Wh-what?'

'The problem I had with you is that whoever our murderer is, they are highly efficient with an attention to detail. Which rather rules you out.'

175.

Welwyn continued his aghast fish impersonation. 'I am an award-winning artist '

'Oh, come on!' said Fitz. 'I wouldn't trust you to rewire a plug, nevet mind a whole planet! In fact, the only thing that points to Welwyn being the murderer is that he saved my life. Turns out he's not a complete incompetent after all.'

'Thanks,' Welwyn said. 'That's very generous of you.'

'Word of advice, mate. Stop messing with planets, it's not really your forte, is it?' said Fitz. 'I'll give you some pointers, after I've identified the murderer. . .

the Fabulous Micron!'

All eyes turned to the polished gla.s.s dome upon its gold-braided cushion and its two accompanying legionaries.

'Now, if there's one thing you can say about the Micron, it's that they have an. . . inferiority complex. I guess it's what makes them so successful. Because, after all, Fabulous here is rich, right? So why would he need to knock out the compet.i.tion?'

One of the legionaries placed a finger to his ear. 'The Fabulous Micron denies any wrongdoing.'

'You know, for a while I didn't even believe there was a Fabulous Micron.

I mean, all I've seen of him is a teeny-tiny fella in a gla.s.s dome. Maybe he didn't exist, and it was just you two guys camping it up?'

'The Fabulous Micron wishes to a.s.sure those present that he is also present.'

'Which got me thinking,' said Fitz. 'Maybe someone other than the Micron was telling you what to do. I mean, how would we tell? Maybe Vors.h.a.gg's de-aggrifier also worked as a transmitter, and could send out instructions? But of course that's not the case, it would be ridiculous, wouldn't it. . . ' he halted and pointed, 'Poozle!'

The cylinder did not reply.

'Now, right from the beginning I've had my suspicions about Poozle here.

He doesn't talk much, but maybe that's normal for the Varble, I don't know.

Then there was that "attack" in his room not a very subtle double-bluff, I'm afraid.'

Poozle still did not say anything.

'Keeping quiet? I'm not surprised. The only time you're chatty is when you're bidding in the auctions. You keep on upping the price, and yet you never win, do you? It must be very frustrating to be Poozle of the Varble.'

'You think Poozle was the murderer?' said Welwyn.

'I did,' said Fitz. 'But you know what they say, it's always the one you least suspect, and Poozle here was a bit too suspicious. And, I'm afraid, it couldn't have been Poozle, for one simple reason. There's no such thing as a Varble!'

'What?' sputtered Vors.h.a.gg.

'The Fabulous Micron says, "No such thing as a Varble?"'

176.

'I don't get it,' said Welwyn.

'I remembered something I'd noticed when I first saw Poozle of the Varble.

You see, Poozle isn't an alien that resembles a lava lamp. It is is just a lava lamp.' just a lava lamp.'

'We heard him talk!' protested Vors.h.a.gg. 'And he floats '

'A lava lamp fitted with a voice synthesiser and some levitation gubbins,'

Fitz explained, 'but still, basically, a lava lamp! No, it wasn't Vors.h.a.gg that was being operated by remote control, or Micron's chums. It was Poozle Poozle.'

The lava lamp bubbled. Fitz peered into its green depths.

'Nothing to say for yourself? You do surprise me.'

Welwyn blinked in thought. 'Why was he bidding in the auction, then?'

'Yes,' said Vors.h.a.gg. 'What would a lava lamp want with a planet?'

'Yes,' said one of the legionaries. 'The Fabulous Micron wishes to know also.'

'It didn't want a planet. Or at least, the person controlling it didn't want Poozle to end up with one. That's why it didn't bid against me when I bought Estebol. It's here for one reason only.'

'And what's that?' said Dittero.

'The mistake I made,' said Fitz, 'was a.s.suming that the murderer wanted to get the planets cheaply. But that's not what's happened, Is it? The prices have gone up!'

He was on the home straight. 'Remember when we were on Earth, and Poozle had the chance of buying it? There wasn't an auction, because you're you're not going to get a very good price with only one bidder not going to get a very good price with only one bidder. Poozle wasn't here to bid for himself himself he was here to bid against the Micron!' he was here to bid against the Micron!'

Welwyn stared at Poozle in disbelief. 'Poozle. . . a stooge stooge?'

'Question Intonation told me he thought he was here for the same reason as Poozle. You see, Question Intonation never had any interest in buying a planet. It was only here to annoy annoy us. . . to increase the antagonism to make Micron sh.e.l.l out that little bit more! us. . . to increase the antagonism to make Micron sh.e.l.l out that little bit more!

'So why did Nimbit and Question Intonation die? To make us think that one of us was prepared to kill to get their hands on a planet. And because the Fabulous Micron refuses to be intimidated intimidated, it ends up paying over the odds.

Cla.s.sic reverse psychology.'

'You mean, they put the frighteners on?' said Vors.h.a.gg.