Doctor Who: Shada (15 page)

The Doctor suddenly opened his eyes. ‘None.’

Romana made to enter the TARDIS. ‘I’ll send the signal.’

The Doctor raised a hand. ‘Wait, wait!’

Romana halted in the door.

‘Not that way,’ said the Doctor. ‘Skagra might be able to intercept any message sent through the telepathic circuits.’

He sat down in the big armchair and riffled in his pockets. He tossed out an orange, a catapult, a ball of string, a collection of odd-looking loose change and a cassette tape. Chris theorised that the pockets worked on the same bigger-on-the-inside principle as the TARDIS and congratulated himself on not saying ‘Wow!’ or ‘How did you do that?’ or even asking how a circuit could possibly ever, ever be telepathic.

Finally, the Doctor clicked his fingers as if remembering something, and reached inside his coat, into the breast pocket. He took out six white squares about five-by-five inches and shuffled them like a deck of cards. He set them down on the table before him. Then he put his fingers to his temples and stared at the table, wearing a deep frown of concentration.

Chris’s eyes widened in awe as first one, then all six of the squares danced into life, arranging themselves neatly into a white cube. There was a clear chiming sound and a bright white glow shone suddenly from within.

‘Wow,’ said Chris. ‘How did you do that?’

K-9 trundled forward, looking a little anxious thought Chris. ‘The Doctor Master is sending a thought message to Gallifrey,’ he whispered. ‘He is requesting their assistance in apprehending Skagra.’

‘Oh yes, I see, and Gallifrey is the planet of the Time Lords,’ said Chris, anxious to keep up.

K-9 raised his voice. ‘Master. This unit strongly advises against this course of action—’

‘Shut up, K-9!’ shouted the Doctor. ‘When I want your opinion I’ll ask for it!’

‘Entreat, Master!’ bleated K-9. ‘My prognostication for this course of action is highly inimical—’

‘Ssh, K-9,’ said Romana, a lot more gently than the Doctor. She patted him on the head. ‘We know how dangerous this is. That’s why we’ve got to do it.’

‘Negative, Mistress,’ wailed K-9, sounding more and more frustrated. ‘This unit strongly insists that you consider—’

The Doctor cut him off. ‘Silence!’

K-9 flashed his eye-screen resentfully and trundled back a fraction.

The Doctor picked up the box and looked to Romana. ‘I’m sorry it’s ended this way,’ he said.

‘Like I said,’ sighed Romana. ‘We’ve no choice. We can’t handle this on our own.’

The Doctor nodded, grinned suddenly and then threw the box into the air overarm as if he was bowling a cricket ball.

The box hovered in mid-air, twisting and turning, and then the glow from within brightened until Chris had to shield his eyes. Slowly the box began to vanish into thin air, a thing that Chris was now getting used to other things doing.

Suddenly K-9 shot forward. There was a low whirring noise and a stubby black rod extended from his muzzle. A moment later a bright red laser beam shot up from it and struck the box.

‘K-9, what are you doing?’ cried Romana. Chris was secretly pleased to hear her saying something along those lines.

There was a deafening crack and Chris was hurled to the ground.

A thin film of dust particles was floating down from where the box had been.

The Doctor leapt to his feet. ‘K-9, what have you done?’ he exclaimed.

‘Regret action, Master,’ said K-9. ‘My overriding directive to protect yourself and the Mistress caused me to obliterate the thought box.’

‘You can’t go around doing things I haven’t told you to do!’ thundered the Doctor. ‘Except if I’m not there, and I am there, I mean here!’

‘He must have a very good reason,’ suggested Chris.

The Doctor rounded on him. ‘Who gave you permission to speak? When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it!’ Suddenly he shook himself and pointed at Chris. ‘I want your opinion. In fact, I’m asking for it.’

‘Well, I just thought he must have a pretty good reason for doing that,’ Chris said. ‘He seems like quite a good dog.’

‘He is. K-9, did you have a pretty good reason for doing that?’ demanded the Doctor.

K-9’s tail wagged urgently. ‘Affirmative, Master. This unit calculates that your judgement and the judgement of Mistress Romana have been influenced by emotional reactions to the death of Professor Chronotis.’

‘Of course we’re upset, K-9,’ said Romana. ‘But we’re up against something that could be too powerful, even for us.’

‘Yes, Mistress, but this unit is without emotional circuitry,’ K-9 countered. ‘I have prognosticated the possible consequences of involving the Time Lords in this matter.’

‘What about the consequences of not involving them?’ said Romana.

But the Doctor had raised a hand and was blowing the air from his cheeks, like a man stepping back from the edge of a very high cliff. ‘Romana,’ he said very quietly, ‘I think K-9 may have had a pretty good reason for doing that.’

‘That’s what I thought,’ said Chris, although he wasn’t following this bit at all.

‘Think about it,’ the Doctor went on. ‘The two of us, two Time Lords, reacted to the loss of that book with panic. And we’re the reasonable ones, aren’t we, with the strong ethical code and general attitude of niceness?’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Romana.

Chris was beginning to follow this again. ‘Aha,’ he said, lifting a finger. He was getting pretty good at this now. ‘So the Time Lords back on Galilee—’

‘Gallifrey,’ corrected the Doctor, Romana and K-9 all at the same time.

‘On Gallifrey, sorry, trying to get all the names right,’ Chris went on, ‘the Time Lords on Gallifrey are going to really have the wind put up them when you tell them Skagra’s nicked their book. And if they’re not as reasonable and nice as you two, they might decide it’s a case of
Carthago delenda est
.’

The Doctor nodded. ‘A scorched earth policy. Literally.’ He smiled. ‘Nicely put, Bristol.’

Romana gasped. ‘You mean the Time Lords might destroy this planet?’

‘If they’re as afraid of the book as you are,’ said Chris, who couldn’t quite believe he was now answering her questions.

Romana shook her head. ‘They wouldn’t. They don’t know what that book is capable of, what secrets it contains, any more than we do.’

‘Exactly!’ said the Doctor. ‘They might think it wiser, quicker and safer to burn book, Skagra, planet and all.’

‘The High Council would never agree to that,’ said Romana firmly. ‘This planet is inhabited, it’s littered with fixed points in time—’

The Doctor cut across her. ‘You’re a historian, aren’t you? Remember the fifth planet, the sack of Lassademon, the Battle of Karn—’

‘Thousands of years ago, relative time,’ said Romana.

‘And all of those involving Time Lord secrets falling into the wrong hands,’ said the Doctor. He leant down and patted K-9. ‘Well done, K-9. You are a very, very, very good dog.’

K-9’s ears twizzled. ‘Master.’

‘No, we can’t take the risk of involving the Time Lords,’ said the Doctor. ‘Not yet anyway.’

Chris laughed.

‘What’s so funny now?’ asked Romana.

‘We’ve just had a conversation about the end of the world,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Not just in general terms, like students on beanbags at two o’clock in the morning when the beer’s run out, but actually about the end of the world really happening. Today.’

Romana crossed to him. ‘Chris. Go home and forget about all of this. Please, go now.’

Chris was crestfallen. However dangerous and strange today had been, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted it to end. ‘What? Turn my back and wonder about this day for the rest of my life? No!’ he said boldly. ‘I’m a scientist, Romana. It’s my duty to stay and help you.’

‘Quite right,’ said the Doctor, bounding over and slapping him on the shoulder.

‘Doctor, this is a terribly dangerous situation, he’ll only get in the way,’ said Romana, with a look of apology to Chris.

‘That’s what I used to think about you,’ said the Doctor. He looked suddenly more genial and less abrupt. ‘The more the merrier. Too many cooks spoil the broth of destruction. Now let’s get on with it. K-9, Skagra must have some kind of spacecraft. Search for high technology emissions, energy spikes, all that kind of naughty thing.’

‘Excluding the TARDIS there are no such traces, Master,’ said K-9.

‘Must be shielded,’ said the Doctor.

‘Shielded from K-9’s sensors,’ mused Romana. ‘Which are linked to the scanners in the TARDIS.’ She shuddered. ‘A ship that can hide itself even from Gallifreyan technology? How is that possible?’

The Doctor ignored the question. ‘Well then, K-9, can you find any trace of that sphere, the telepathic activity?’

‘Affirmative, Master,’ said K-9, ‘but it is far, far too weak to take a bearing.’

‘We’ll have to wait until it becomes active again,’ said the Doctor. ‘Now listen, K-9, the moment the signal becomes clear, full alert!’

‘Affirmative, Master.’

‘Right! Come on, we’ll wait in the TARDIS.’ He strode towards the police box. ‘Much safer for the moment.’

‘Excellent thought,’ said Romana. ‘Goodbye, Chris.’

‘Come on, Bristol!’ said the Doctor, grabbing Chris and virtually throwing him into the TARDIS before Romana could say anything more.

Chapter 27

SKAGRA POSITIONED THE book gently behind the vacuum-bubble shield of his book collection. He hated the thought of hands, even his own, touching any book, what with all their grease and bacteria and animal warmth contaminating the pristine pages.

‘You have the book, my lord,’ cooed the Ship.

Skagra nodded. ‘And now you will read it to me. I will learn the darkest secret of the Time Lords.’

‘At once, my lord,’ said the Ship. ‘You are such a wonderful, wonderful person. My circuits are unworthy of the privileges you bestow on me so bountifully.’

‘Just read the book,’ said Skagra.

He sat back in his comfort pod and closed his eyes.

Behind the bubble shield a slim metal probe extended from a tiny hole. It reached the front cover of the book and gently pushed it open to the first page.

From another hole on the other side of the vacuum shield emerged a thicker, flexible tube. At the end was an attachment that rather resembled an eye, a cool blue light blinking steadily from the iris.

The Ship coughed.

‘Begin,’ said Skagra.

‘At once, my lord,’ said the Ship. ‘Er – are you seated in the position of maximum comfort, my lord?’

‘Yes,’ said Skagra.

The Ship coughed again.

‘Begin!’ said Skagra again.

‘So I just have to read the book, do I, my lord?’ asked the Ship.

‘For the moment, yes, that is your instruction,’ said Skagra.

‘And a wonderful instruction it is too, my lord,’ said the Ship. ‘An instruction worthy of the paradigm of unutterable brilliance that is my lord.’

‘Read it,’ said Skagra.

There was a pause.

‘Out loud, my lord?’ asked the Ship, rather tentatively.

‘Yes, out loud!’ said Skagra. ‘Reveal the secret of the Time Lords. Tell me of Shada!’

‘Yes, my lord, immediately,’ said the Ship.

There was another pause.

‘From the beginning, my lord?’ asked the Ship.

‘Read it from the beginning, out loud, to me,’ said Skagra. ‘Now.’

‘Are you sure?’ asked the Ship.

‘I am very sure,’ said Skagra.

‘How very sure, my lord?’

‘One hundred per cent sure!’ thundered Skagra. ‘Now begin, before I’m forced to destroy your circuitry!’

‘Very well, my lord,’ said the Ship.

She coughed again.

‘
The Worshipful and Ancient Law of Gallifrey
,’ she said grandly. ‘Read by me, out loud, to my lord Skagra.’

There was another pause.

‘Squiggle squiggle squiggle squiggle,’ the Ship said, enunciating every syllable with the gravitas required of the moment. ‘Squiggle, line, squiggle, squiggle line squiggle squiggle wavy line, though I suppose that could be a squiggle—’

Skagra leapt from the comfort pod. ‘What is the meaning of this?’

‘Your magnificence has, as usual, pinpointed the problem with unerring accuracy, my lord,’ said the Ship. The eyestalk flexed uneasily over the open book, which Skagra saw was covered in arcane symbols. ‘I am programmed to translate every language and alphabet in the universe. And I have absolutely no idea what this means.’

Chapter 28

NIGHT SHROUDED THE city of Cambridge. The moon shone fitfully through the clouds above the old streets and around the colleges.

Wilkin made his final walk-round of the grounds of St Cedd’s, gave the padlock one final tug, then returned to the lodge where, at precisely half past ten, he changed into his pyjamas and curled up in bed with a John Dickson Carr.