Doctor Who: The Trial of a Time Lord : The Ultimate Foe (3 page)

Confusion rippled along the benches. Questions overlapped.

‘What did he call him?’

‘Did he say "The Doctor"?’

‘Was that a Freudian slip?’

‘Who was he talking about?’

Heads turned every whichway; the Inquisitor’s regal halo, Glitz’s close-cropped brown curls, Mel’s mass of red ringlets.

‘I don’t get it,’ grumbled Glitz.

‘Doctor,’ said Mel. ‘Do you understand what’s going on?

I surely don’t.’

‘I wouldn’t expect you to, Mel. I’m not certain I do myself.’ How could he? The mind of the Master was a labyrinth so devious, Machiavelli himself would need a map! But the Doctor understood the renegade well. This was no slip. If he addressed the prosecutor as ‘The Doctor’, it was deliberate... He braced his shoulders, glared defiantly up at the grinning, oversized image, awaiting the explanation that he knew would come.

And fearing it.

‘I repeat...’ said the Master, ‘... the Valeyard is my most constant and determined of foes. And yet now he affects not to recognise me.’

‘This is clearly a blatant attempt by the Doctor’s cronies to fudge the issue,’ blustered the Valeyard.

‘I must admit to a feeling of bewilderment,’ confessed the Inquisitor.

‘Me, too,’ added Mel.

‘If the prosecutor’s accusation of a deliberate conspiracy to deceive is true –’

‘As it most assuredly is, My Lady –’

‘Do not interrupt me, Valeyard!’

‘I am merely fulfilling my function as prosecutor.’

‘Then perform it in the accustomed manner. With civility and decorum!’

‘I stand corrected, My Lady.’

‘Why not sit?’ gleefully interceded the Master, revelling in the disturbance he was causing in the hitherto placid Court. ‘After all, the dénouement was no surprise to you!’

The comment deflated the Valeyard.

A heavy sigh from the Inquisitor: the prosecutor she could control, but this smug interloper on the screen was another matter... she returned to her theme. ‘As I was saying, Doctor, if the prosecutor’s accusation is true, I shall

–’

‘It’s not!’ A curt rejection by the Doctor.

‘Then I fail to comprehend,’ she retorted in exasperation.

The Doctor ran a hand through his mop of fair hair, wrestling with the import of the Master’s declaration.

‘No questions, Doctor?’ The Master adopted a velvety tone: the apocalyptic nature of the disclosure was too delicious to be rushed.

‘You – you called him by my name,’ ventured the Doctor.

‘I did address the Valeyard so.’

Instinctively Mel drew closer to her mentor, sensing he was about to be dreadfully wounded by the revelation the sinister intruder was intent on imparting.

‘Much as I hate you, Doctor,’ asserted the Master. ‘I have never underestimated your intelligence. I believe you know the substance of what I am implying – albeit your conceits urge you to reject it.’

An accurate summary of the quandary ravaging the Doctor’s hearts.

He wanted to hear no more.

To escape.

To shut out the cruel expose about to be delivered. But he couldn’t.

‘The Valeyard, Doctor, is your penultimate reincarnation... Somewhere between your twelfth and thirteenth regeneration... and may I say, you do not improve with age.. !’

5

Shock had becalmed proceedings in the Court. Adorned with rigid hoods and taped robes of office, the venerable Time Lords might have been russet-coloured gargoyles poised on the rows of benches. The Inquisitor in her white, starched gown could have represented a statue sculpted from frozen snow.

‘Can anyone believe that this worm, this lackey of the High Council, could be
me
!’ The Doctor’s voice broke the spell.

‘Well you know, there is a similarity. When I clapped peepers on him, I thought – hang in there, Glitz, this Valeyard must be the Doc’s brother.’

‘Shut up, Glitz!’ admonished Mel.

‘Same shaped nose. And the mouth. He’s got your mouth –’

‘When you get back to wherever you come from, you want to have your eyes tested! He’s nothing like the Doctor!’ Mel elbowed Glitz aside and laid a comforting hand on the Doctor’s arm.

The squabble did at least unfreeze the traumatised onlookers. The Inquisitor rubbed her brow wearily, trying to assimilate this extraordinary allegation. ‘Frankly, I fail to see any relevance in this communication.’

‘My Lady, these scandalous accusations –’

‘Valeyard! The single purpose of this trial is to determine the guilt or otherwise of the prisoner on the basis of the evidence that has been submitted.’ She turned to the Doctor. ‘Examine your witnesses.’

Having been scathingly reprimanded by Mel, and convinced all this was of scant concern to him, Glitz in his usual predatory manner, had been scrutinising the panelling of the dock, sniffing out a possible profit. ‘This is real machonite, y’know,’ he confided to nobody in particular. ‘Worth a few grotzis today.’ The scent of money emboldened him. He approached the bench. ‘Your honourees, I could give you a fair price for this little lot –’

‘Glitz!’ cautioned the Doctor.

‘Carriage included... What?’ The interrogative was addressed to the Doctor.

‘You were sent here by the Master?’

‘Well, he’s a business partner, so to speak. We’ve pulled off a few tickles together –’

‘The Court isn’t interested in your squalid deals, Glitz!’

‘Squalid, Doc? That’s a bit strong for–’

‘Quite,’ interjected the Inquisitor. ‘The witness will keep to the point.’

‘Glitz, when we first met –’

‘On Ravolox, Doc.’

‘Yes. Your main interest was in getting possession of a chest of secrets.’

‘Right. A black box.’

‘What were those secrets?’

‘I dunno. Scientific stuff, that’s what he said.’ He jerked a thumb at the Master on the screen. ‘Stuff the Sleepers had been nicking from the Matrix for years, he said.’

‘The Matrix!’ protested the Keeper. ‘My Matrix?’

‘Right. The Sleepers had figured how to break into it. So they were creaming off all this hi-tech info to ship home to Andromeda.’

‘Sleepers? Andromeda?’ queried Mel.

‘The constellation where they live, Mel. No more questions. Just listen quietly.’ A difficult task for Mel!

Playing the bystander did not suit her ebullient personality.

The Doctor resumed his cross-examination of Glitz.

‘But they were operating from Earth?’

‘Sure. That was their cover, wasn’t it? They knew the Time Lords would trace the leak eventually.’

‘My Lady!’ The Valeyard sprang to his feet. ‘This is a palpable tissue of lies!’

‘I don’t think so,’ countered the Doctor. ‘It begins to make good sense.’

Not to me, it doesn’t, thought Mel, but she stayed mute in deference to the Doctor. No doubt he’d explain evenually. When the mood took him.!

‘Go on, Glitz. What happened then?’

‘Well, Doc, it appears the Time Lords sussed out the leak and tried to knock off the thieving Sleepers. Used this magno– magno thing.’

‘Magnotron?’

‘That’s it.’

‘– which could only have been done by an order in High Council!’

A slow, congratulatory handclap from the screen. ‘Of course, Doctor. These paragons of virtue, these peers of the Universe who set themselves up as Guardians of Gallifrey, simply drew the planet Earth millions of miles across Space in order to protect their precious secrets.’

‘Causing the fireball which almost destroyed the planet!’

The Doctor’s chubby cheeks were flushed with anger.

Destroyed Earth, pondered Mel. How could that be?

She’d come from Earth. Pease Pottage, Sussex, England to be precise. And Earth was still there when she left! But then, she was a rookie in this game. The concept of Time Travel had her bemused. She glanced at her youthful looking mentor: who would dream he was over nine hundred years old...

‘The destruction of your favourite planet was of little consequence in the High Council’s planning, Doctor,’ the Master continued. ‘They needed to frustrate the recovery mission that was despatched from Andromeda. So, to ensure the mission should miss Earth and go plunging futilely into Space, the target was plucked from its orbit.’

An extravagant gesture demonstrated this horrendous act.

‘Thus saving Gallifreyan secrets.’

‘And burning to a crisp all life on Earth!’

‘Not entirely, Doctor. At the primary intimation of the coming holocaust, the Sleepers on Earth were able to set up a survival chamber.’

‘But the High Council were unaware of that,’ added the Doctor.

‘Oh absolutely. They believed by renaming Earth and calling it Ravolox, it would become an insignificant interstellar speck lost among the myriads.’

‘The sanctimonious gang of hypocrites were dishonourably covering their tracks!’

‘Exactly. It needs a while, Doctor, but eventually you get there!’ Sarcasm rather than approval: the Master would find it impossible to approve of anything his hated adversary did.

The Doctor was too infuriated at the enormity of the despicable enterprise to take up the cudgel. ‘They put an ancient culture like Earth’s to the sword for the sake of a few miserable, filthy, scientific advances!’

‘Big market for them, Doc,’ counselled the opportunist Glitz. ‘So
he
said,’ – indicating the Master –‘Worth a lot of grotzis he told me.’

‘A lot of grotzis!’ The Doctor’s temper exploded. ‘In all my wanderings through the Cosmos, I have battled against evil... against power-mad conspirators!’

A gracious bow from the Master – of amusement not acceptance of the insult.

‘I should have stayed on Gallifrey!’ The blue eyes shone with rage. ‘The oldest civilisation – decadent, degenerate, and rotten to the core!’

‘Gently, Doctor,’ begged Mel, worried lest the passionate denouncement of the High Council alienate the Court.

‘Daleks. Sontarans. Cybermen. They’re still in the nursery compared to us Gallifreyans!’ ranted the Doctor, regardless of the consequences. ‘Ten million years of total power. That’s what it requires to be wholly corrupt!’

‘Doctor, these unseemly outbursts do not assist the Court,’ admonished the Inquisitor.

‘Nor your case,’ urged Mel.

‘Unseemly outbursts!’ Nothing was going to stop the incensed Time Lord now. He had a full head of steam. ‘If I hadn’t visited Ravolox – as I then imagined it was called –

the High Council would have kept this atrocity carefully buried –’

‘Clever stuff, Doc, you’ve got to give them their due –’

‘– as they apparently already had for several centuries!’

Stroking his beard, the Master enjoyed the fervid castigation of the Universe’s elite. ‘It pains me to make such an admission, but in this instance, I do agree with you.’

The renegade’s support had a deeper, more sinister intent. He knew that earlier in the Trial, during the submission of the Doctor’s adventures on Ravolox, a reference was made to the activities of the Sleepers, and the Valeyard had intervened to plead security of the State to have the evidence suppressed. Obviously, with the connivance of the elected High Council, he had perpetrated an ignoble cover-up. When the news of the unconstitutional deception reached Gallifrey, the authority of the rulers would be demolished...

‘You have, Doctor, an –’ the Master sought the appropriate epithet, ‘– shall we say – endearing – habit of blundering into things. And the High Council took full advantage of your blunder.’

‘Explain that,’ ordered the Inquisitor.

‘You could ask him, Madam,’ sneered the Master, signifying Valeyard. ‘Those exalted culprits made a compact with the prosecutor to adjust the evidence.’

‘Aha!’ exclaimed the Doctor. ‘I knew it!’

‘In return for which he was promised the remainder of the Doctor’s regenerations...’

‘Doctor!’ yelled Mel, interrupting the Master’s explanation again. ‘Watch the Valeyard!’

Having edged towards the door by which Mel and Glitz had entered, the prosecutor was now slipping from sight.

‘Stop him, My Lady,’ implored the Doctor.

‘Do not fear, Doctor. There is no way he can escape.’

‘That’s true,’ agreed Mel. ‘The only door from there is this one.’ She was a computer expert whose training and natural curiosity endowed her with an aptitude for accurate observation. Despite her uncomfortable arrival, she had noted that the corridor was a sealed unit.

The Doctor wasn’t convinced. Experience during his trial had taught him to beware the wily Valeyard. He descended from the dock. ‘Come on, Glitz!’

‘What?’

‘Move, man! He’ll get away!’

‘Yeah, but, she said there’s no exit –’

‘You want your money, don’t you?’

‘Money?’ The effect was like magic. Glitz was through the door in a flash!

To no avail.

The corridor was deserted.

Somehow the Valeyard had escaped...

6

‘Look, Doc, this is all too much for me. I mean, working a few shady deals is one thing, but disappearing acts – no thank you very –’

Ignoring Glitz’s specious protests, the Doctor examined the walls of the enclosed corridor. ‘There must be a way out of here.’

‘There is.’ The Keeper preceded Mel and the Inquisitor.

‘Explain, Keeper.’

‘The Seventh Door, My Lady. He obviously had a Key.’

‘Which Seventh Door? Where?’ The Doctor’s search had been thorough.

The Keeper crossed to the wall. ‘The Seventh entrance to the Matrix.’ No trace of the entrance showed on the panel the Keeper indicated.

‘Then open it!’ shouted the Doctor. ‘The Valeyard has to be brought back!’

‘To fulfil that request would require an order from the High Council. I dare not –’

‘Nonsense. Obtain such permission. The Court has many pertinent questions that it wishes to pose –’

Paying no heed to the Inquisitor, the Doctor snatched the Key from the Keeper and planted it, flat, against the surface of the wall.

The panel began to slide apart.

‘You’ll never find him!’ protested the Keeper. ‘The Matrix is a micro-universe –’