Doctor Who: The Eight Doctors

by Terrance Dicks

  A babble of astonished voices rose in the conference room. Only the Doctor was calm.

  'It's all right. I've been expecting this for some time. We're fortunate that it didn't happen sooner.'

  'That what didn't happen?' asked Flavia.

  'I rescued that version of myself from a pseudo timeline, created, I believe, by the Valeyard. I knew he was temporarily unstable, but I needed him to testify as to what was happening to him in this infamous so-called trial.

  Luckily he lasted long enough to give his evidence.'

  'Where is he now, then?'

  'Where he always was in a sense - in the courtroom on that space station, undergoing the rest of his trial. That's why it's vital that we bring this inquiry to a successful conclusion - before they finally succeed in destroying him

  - and me!'

  'How do you propose to do that, Doctor?' asked President Niroc. 'Now that your chief witness has disappeared...' He made no attempt to conceal the triumph in his voice.

  'By asking you to consider the evidence you have already heard,' said the Doctor. 'I ask you to examine one word in particular - Ravolox.'

  The word wiped the sneer from President Niroc's face.

  'Let us go back a little,' said the Doctor. 'To the time that President Flavia was deposed.'

  'What has that to do with your trial?' demanded President Niroc.

  'Everything,' said the Doctor simply.

  'President Flavia picked up a rumour that the secrets of the Matrix were being stolen - a rumour to which was attached just one word: Ravolox.'

  He looked at Flavia's concerned face.

  'What happens? Suddenly out of nowhere a political campaign is mounted, questioning her right to the Presidency. The subsequent election is rigged, to put a pack of Agency puppets in power.

  At this, President Niroc leaped to his feet.

  'How dare you make these insolent, unproven accusations?'

  'Sit down little man,' said the Doctor in an icy voice.

  Niroc sat.

  The Doctor continued with his indictment, ticking off point after telling point, weaving a chain of circumstantial evidence.

  'So - President Flavia is ousted from office in a faked election that must have cost a fortune to arrange. An entire space station is purchased, also at enormous expense, and moved to an isolated, undetectable location as HQ for a vitally secret project - Operation Ravolox.

  'Finally, an incredibly tortuous and complex scheme is set up, first to smear and ultimately to destroy a wandering Time Lord called the Doctor. Why?

  Purely because he landed, completely by chance, on a planet called -

  Ravolox.' The Doctor looked round the table. 'A planet identical in every respect to the planet Earth - a planet that is Earth, an Earth that has been moved light years from its proper place in a process so brutal that it caused a fireball that almost destroyed the planet.'

  'This is wild speculation,' cried President Niroc. But his face was white and his voice shook.

  'Then let us speculate a little further,' said the Doctor. 'Let us speculate that the rumour Lady Flavia heard was true and that advanced technical secrets were being stolen from the Matrix. Now, who is responsible for protecting the Matrix and all our Time Lord secrets? Who faces ruin and disgrace if their failure is discovered? The Agency, of course.

  Let us speculate that the Agency, shutting the proverbial stable door long after lots of high-tech horses have departed, discovers that the thieves originate from Andromeda but have a secret base somewhere on Earth -

  which they cannot find.

  Desperate not only to prevent the thefts but to conceal them so as to protect its own reputation, the

  Agency in outrageous, apocalyptic laziness decides on one of the most callous crimes in Time Lord history.

  They will move Earth billions of miles through space, thus causing a fireball which will "accidentally" destroy all life on the planetary surface. Since this cannot be done without the knowledge and collusion of the President and the High Council -'

  'So that is why I was removed from the Presidency,' breathed Flavia. Her eyes were fixed on President Niroc, who shrank from her accusing gaze.

  Lady Flavia rose and looked around the table.

  'As soon as this inquiry is concluded, I shall place a Motion of Impeachment before the High Council. I shall demand the removal of President Niroc and the holding of a new and honestly conducted election.'

  There was a general growl of assent.

  'I am sure we will all support you in such a measure," said the Doctor.

  'Meanwhile, if I may continue?'

  'Of course, Doctor. My apologies for the interruption.'

  'Yet even this horrendous measure was a failure,' the Doctor went on. 'It was worse than a crime, it was a blunder. The secret base of the Andromedans was underground. They put themselves into suspended animation, leaving a robot to guard them and their stolen secrets. Others survived as well and over the long years, Earth returned to barbarism.

  Savage tribes on the surface, slaves ruled by the Andromedan robot below.

  Then a wandering Time Lord called the Doctor lands on Ravolox... Panic!

  He must be discredited and destroyed to prevent discovery of the Agency's crimes and failures.'

  'Are you saying that the whole purpose of the Trial was to prevent you from learning about the Agency's involvement in the Ravolox Affair?' asked Flavia.

  'I am. I think the trial was set up as soon as it was known I had landed there. Everything else was simply a smokescreen to conceal the Agency's real concerns.'

  'But why would they deliberately draw attention to Ravolox by choosing to use the events of your visit there in the trial?'

  The Doctor shrugged. 'A typical piece of Agency arrogance. They were attempting the classic double bluff. If they brought up Ravolox first, it looked as though they had nothing to hide.'

  A voice from the Matrix screen said, 'Congratulations, Doctor. A very impressive feat of deduction!'

  The Master was smiling down at them from the Matrix screen. 'What a pity that your beefy Doctor Watson wasn't here to admire your brilliance. Would you like to see where he is now, by the way?'

  Suddenly the screen was filled with a picture of the Sixth Doctor. He was on some kind of desolate beach, sinking slowly into quicksand.

  Helpless, they looked on in horror as the bubbling wet sand closed over the Sixth Doctor's curly head...

  Chapter 20

  The Master

  The participants in the Presidential Inquiry were in a state of shock. To see the death of the Sixth Doctor was shocking enough. To see the Master at large in the sacred Matrix was positively horrifying.

  He lounged smiling in a high-backed chair, the blackness of clothes, hair and neatly pointed beard contrasting with the whiteness of his skin. On a chain around his neck was a huge and elaborate key. He held it up mockingly.

  'As you can see, the Doctor's speculation was correct. In fact, all his speculations were!'

  The Master's eyes were alight with malice. He was enjoying himself enormously. His mind reached out through the Matrix to touch the Doctor's.

  'So it is you, Doctor? Somehow I knew it was!'

  'I suppose I should have expected you to be involved,' the Doctor replied.

  'How could you resist an affair as

  sordid as this?'

  'How indeed? But what are you doing here, meddling in your own past?'

  'You should know that, better than anyone!'

  'I should? You must be referring to some abominable crime that I haven't yet committed! I look forward to it immensely!'

  He paused. 'But wait a moment. Since your earlier self has now been destroyed, you have been destroyed as well. I'll never have the chance now to do whatever it was that

  'I did! What fascinating paradoxes one causes by doubling back on one's own time-stream.'

  'My very existence proves that you failed,' said the Doctor defiantly. 'The fact that
I exist proves that the Doctor in the Matrix did not die.'

  'The Doctor in the Matrix existed as a member of your inquiry, did he not?

  For a time! Now that he's dead, Doctor, you are little more than his ghost.

  Soon you too will disappear.'

  'You're lying - as usual! I refuse to believe that my earlier self is dead.'

  'Nothing is immutable, Doctor,' snarled the Master. 'Least of all time. I have succeeded in cutting short your former time-stream and ending your miserable existence.' He laughed evilly. 'You do realise, Doctor, that you are living on borrowed time?

  You're temporally unstable now, you know. Soon you'll fade away - just as your earlier self did.'

  Everyone in the conference room looked at the Doctor in horrified consternation, as if expecting him to vanish immediately before their eyes.

  To their astonishment, the Doctor simply laughed.

  'Rubbish! Your analogy is as false as your nature. If my earlier self died I should never have existed - so I should vanish immediately. Which means (only Flavia noticed him crossing his fingers) that that particular Doctor is not dead. Show us the rest of that sequence - I challenge you!'

  The Master's smile was a little strained now, but he managed to keep it in place. 'If you insist, Doctor...'

  The Master vanished from the screen and the desolate beach took its place.

  On it crouched a stocky, villainous-looking man clutching a pair of muddy spats. Despairingly he tossed them into the quicksand. Seconds later he recoiled in horror as the Sixth Doctor rose vertically from the bubbling sand, the spats once more on his feet!

  'Like the Master, he's in the Matrix,' said the Doctor. 'It's a realm of illusion and uncertainty. I know - I've been there!'

  The Doctor had brief visions of a sword-wielding Samurai warrior, a fast-approaching express train - his foot was trapped in the railway tracks, he couldn't move - and an attacking plane. He saw a remorseless hunter, always on his trail, felt a high-powered bullet smash into his arm...

  The Master's jeering voice shattering his memories.

  'And you are still there, Doctor. Still in the Matrix!'

  On the Matrix screen they saw a tall, gaunt figure standing on the dunes above the beach. He wore the long black cloak and high-collared black tunic of a Time Lord Court Prosecutor.

  'Who is this person?' demanded Lady Flavia.

  'That is the Valeyard,' said the Doctor. 'The learned Court Prosecutor.'

  The Master reappeared on the Matrix Screen.

  'Tell them the whole truth, Doctor,' he urged mockingly. "The Valeyard is also you!'

  Lady Flavia turned to the Doctor. 'Can this be so, Doctor? What does he mean?'

  'Let him tell you,' said the Doctor wearily, sensing what was to come. He had half-realised the terrible truth during his earlier encounter with the Valeyard. So many memories had been revived now that the gaps were filling in fast. He seemed to know not only what had happened but what was still to come for his earlier selves.

  Thoroughly enjoying himself the Master said, "The Valeyard is an amalgam of the Doctor's darker side, somewhere between his twelfth and thirteenth regenerations. The High Council brought him into being, offering him the Doctor's remaining regenerations, in return for his help in ensuring a satisfactory ending to the Doctor's trial.'

  'Abomination upon abomination,' said Lady Flavia. 'You have much to answer for, President Niroc.'

  Niroc made no reply.

  The Doctor rallied, addressing the sneering figure on the screen. 'But it's all gone horribly wrong, hasn't it? The Valeyard and my earlier self have both escaped to the Matrix.'

  'The Valeyard and your other self have been lured to the Matrix,' corrected the Master. 'All part of my plan. Think, Doctor, how much your earlier self has to contend with now.

  The Valeyard, his evil self, by definition his equal in brains and cunning.

  Sabalom Glitz, whom the Doctor believes to be a kind of ally but who is my minion, body and soul, ready to betray him, to sell him out at every turn.

  And finally - me! "The Master chuckled. 'How can I lose?

  Either the Doctor destroys the

  Valeyard or the Valeyard the Doctor.

  In either event, I dispose of the survivor. Think of me, Doctor, when you feel yourself fading into unbeing!'

  The Doctor regarded the triumphant figure on the screen.

  'That's not all, is it? I sense it. Killing my earlier self, my evil self and finally me is just personal revenge. It lacks the true megalomaniac touch.

  Where does the bit about conquering the universe come in?'

  The Master laughed. 'I'm prepared to start small, Doctor. The universe can come later. I'll be content, for a time at least with ruling Gallifrey!'

  Lady Flavia was outraged. 'And just how do you think that your squalid intrigues can enable you to do that?'

  'Not my squalid intrigues, Lady Flavia, but yours.'

  Flavia jumped up, looking as if she was about to plunge through the screen and cried out, 'You insolent renegade!'

  The Master held up his hands in mock fear and apology.

  'Your pardon, Lady Flavia. I meant, of course, the squalid intrigues of the High Council - of which you are still a member.'

  'The misdeeds of the High Council can and will be corrected,' said Flavia, with a fiery glance at Niroc. 'What has happened is best forgotten. I know we can rely on the Doctor's discretion.'

  'Ah, but can you rely on mine?' said the Master mockingly.

  'You?' said Flavia scornfully. 'Who will believe you?'

  The Master spread his hands.

  'Everyone!'

  'What have you done?' demanded the Doctor.

  'On my instructions, my associate Sabalom Glitz babbled full details of the High Council's infamous Ravolox stratagem at the Doctor's trial.'

  'The trial is secret,' insisted Flavia.

  'Whatever was said there can remain secret, if we wish it.'

  'Not any longer. My agents have seized control of Public Access Television. Relevant extracts from the trial have been transmitting for some time now on every screen in Gallifrey.

  'The dirty little secret is out, Lady Flavia - and the outraged citizens of Gallifrey, high and low, are rising in revolt.'

  'Your agents?' demanded the Doctor.

  'You always work alone. When did you have any agents? I imagine Glitz is only in it for whatever baubles you've promised him.

  You've done a deal haven't you? The most unscrupulous deal of your career - with the Celestial Intervention Agency.'

  'We have come to an accommodation,' said the Master smoothly. 'The Agency is nothing if not pragmatic. There will be a certain amount of chaos at first as this worn-out semi-democracy of yours collapses. As always, there will be a call for a strong man. Then I shall appear, the hero of the hour, with the stolen secrets of the Matrix safely retrieved. Soon, I shall be Lord President - no, Dictator of Gallifrey.'

  'And an Agency figurehead,' taunted the Doctor. 'How long do you think you'll last, once the Agency is in power?'

  'How long do you think they will last - once I'm in power? Now if you'll all excuse me, I still have much to do.'

  'Just another of the Master's mad schemes,' said the Doctor dismissively.

  'It'll never work.'

  'Won't it, Doctor?'The Master started to laugh. 'Listen!'

  He faded from the screen leaving only the echo of his mocking laughter.

  Then, after a while they began to hear something else, not from the screen but from outside the conference room: The distant roar of an angry crowd.

  The Doctor jumped up.

  'He was right. It's started already!'

  Suddenly Captain Vared marched into the room. He came to attention and saluted the President.

  'My Lord President.'

  'Well, what is it?'

  'The Shobogans are revolting!'

  The Doctor opened his mouth to make the obvious comment and then closed it again, dec
iding this wasn't the time.

  Niroc stared numbly at the Captain and the Doctor took over.

  'What's happening?'

  'Someone's been stirring them up.

  Lots of someones. There are rumours that the High Council's planning even more repressive measures. The Shobogans have broken open the gaols, released the rebels and taken over most of LowTown. We're getting reports of more Outsiders massing all round the Capitol. Presumably the Shobogans are planning to move on the Gates and let them in.'

  'Anything else?'

  'We're getting reports of armed rebels roaming the Capitol, assassinating public figures and taking over public buildings.'