Dear Diary,

I aimed the laser cutter at the door of the dungeon and pressed the activation button. To my immense dismay nothing happened.

"Dammit, Butch" snarled the man John. "Have you forgotten that it's powered by electromagnetics? It only works on board the SS Pioneer."

"Is that true?" I asked Carol Richmond.

"I'm afraid it is" said my co-astronaut.

"Fingers - can you overcome this problem?" I asked.

"Let me have a look" said my chief engineer.

"Dammit, Butch, I'm a mineralogist not a hamster. Being in this cage is making me stir crazy" said John.

"I hear you, John, but all our plans have come to nothing."

"If we don't escape soon we'll die" sobbed Carol Richmond, the crew's lone female.

"Our best hope may lie with the Dwarves of Toth's inherent sense of justice. They are a warrior race and so must be governed by a code of honour" I assured her. "If the man John were to challenge their leader to a fight to the death it would be possible for us to win our freedom."

"Dammit, Butch, I'm a mineralogist not a gladiator. I haven't handled a sword since the INNER Mineralogy Department's production of Pirates of Penzance. And even then I wasn't allowed to use it in the main performance after I nearly blinded a member of the audience during the dress rehearsal."

"Then we must match their brawn with our brains" I said inspirationally.

"We tried that and you failed" replied John unhelpfully.

Note to self - mark John down on his appraisal chart in the category of 'actively inspiring and promoting colleague efficiency through a mutually informative co-relationship."

Dear Diary,

I put my proposal to the King of the Dwarves and he agreed to the principle of trial by combat. Regrettably his misunderstood my suggestion that the man John be involved.

"You and the human male shall fight each other"  he bellowed.

"I beg your pardon?" I replied.

"To the death. Whichever of you wins will be allowed to leave with the female human and the alien creature."

"But that is barbaric" I told him.

"We are barbarians" he laughed. He had a point. I couldn't fault his logic, unfortunately. The man John and I were given an hour to prepare ourselves for a fight to the death.

"Dammit, Butch, I'm a mineralogist not a butcher" he cursed. "These wretched midgets can't force us to fight each other."

"They said that the winner will earn his freedom and that of Carol Richmond and Fingers."

"I love Carol Richmond" he told me gravely. "It's nothing personal but I'm a man first and a mineralogist second. I'll have to fight you to the death for the sake of my beloved."

"Ah" I stammered. "I was hoping for an 'all for one and one for all' motif."

"Dammit, Butch, I'm a mineralogist not a Frenchman" he said, closing the discussion and condemning one of us to death.

Dear Diary,


The most extraordinary things have happened since I last took up this dictatagram. The man John and I were led out into the Arena of Toth and introduced to the baying crowd of Dwarves. The atmosphere was quite peculiar - we could hear the roar of thousands but could only see half a dozen of the Dwarves. Nevertheless it was quite terrifying, especially with the sentence of death and all that went with it.

"Dammit, Butch, I don't want to hurt you but for the sake of Carol Richmond - who I love and intend to marry - I am prepared to fight you" said John as we stood side by side and awaited the presentation of our weapons.

"Excuse me" said a small man in a rather smart maroon uniform. "Are you Captain Maitland?"

"I am" said I.

"Space telegram for you" he chirped, handing me a piece of paper and holding out his palm for a gratuity.

"We are strangers to your universe and I’m afraid I have no local coins" I told him. He kicked me in the shin and stumped off on his bicycle.

"Dear Captain" began the space telegram, "stop waited for you to rescue us stop got bored stop escaped ourselves stop back on board the ship stop will leave without you soon stop love stop the lunatics."

I showed the telegram to the man John.

"Dammit, Butch, I can’t wait around here for the rest of my life. Carol Richmond and I have to get back to the Earth and get married. If those lunatics steal the Pioneer we’re doomed."

"One of us will be doomed anyway if we fight like animals" I reminded him.

"Behold" shouted the King of the Dwarves of Toth. "I give you the air chariot which carried these Earth creatures to our planet." He pulled a sheet aside and there was the very I.N.N.E.R. shuttle craft in which the man John and Carol Richmond had flown down to the planet. "Whoever wins this fight to the death will leave in their chariot. Whoever loses will be the main course in tonight’s banquet!" The largely invisible crowd roared their approval at what passed for humour in Toth. The man John and I were pushed to the centre of the arena and positioned face to face.

"Dammit, Butch, I’m a mineralogist not a warrior but I can promise you that I’ll make it quick for you."

"Thank you, John, but it will not be necessary…" I began. But the King of Toth dropped his spectacles and that was the sign to begin the contest. The man John swung his club at me.

"Arghhh" he cried.

"But you won’t let me expl…" I stammered, narrowly avoiding a second blow. "We have a pla…"

Dear Diary,

The crowd of dwarves are growing restless – they demand a kill. The man John has graciously allowed me to enter one final entry into my dictatagram for the files. I’m currently lying on my back with my first officer standing over me, his weapon primed for the final blow. My main tactical error was almost certainly attempting to describe the fight while John was actually fighting me. It lost me valuable seconds and this is the result. I wish anyone listening this to know that I do not blame the man John for killing me. He is a man first, a mineralogist second and a man has to do what a man has to do. Give my regards to mother, to father, to Bunty and to Skip.

Message ends.