Chapter
21
The Carthage was, in real terms at least, now hundreds of millions of years old. It didn’t take long to break apart when the astronic engines burst under the sudden strain of ignition. A river of superhot plasma surged through the corridors and decks, pushing an incandescent wall of flame before it and leaving nothing but molten slag behind it.
They sprinted into the TARDIS with the flames scorching their heels and the police box door snapped shut with a bang as the plasma hit. Burning energy engulfed the time ship in a storm of charged ions. The last vestiges of the incinerating atmosphere carried with it the final roar of the explosion, and a faint wheezing and groaning as the police box started to dematerialise. The ablation of the plasma stream disappeared a moment before the Carthage itself turned into an expanding cloud of accelerated atoms.
Out of the dazzling firestorm shot a tiny speck of blue matter, spinning end over end, the lamp on its roof flashing busily as it faded from the material universe and slipped into that mysterious vortex where time and space are one.
—
The Doctor clung to the control console, one hand darting here and there among the levers and switches. The brilliant orange filaments in the glass column at the centre of the console rose gently up and down, casting a warm, homely glow on his old face. Above him, the giant time rotors turned this way and that as the TARDIS calculated its exact position in the space-time continuum.
Clara picked herself off the floor. Tibby Vent and Hobbo were also getting to their feet, and so was Raymond Balfour. They all looked as shaky as Clara felt.
‘We made it, then,’ Balfour said, holding on to the console for support.
‘Of course we did,’ said the Doctor, finally stepping back from the controls and flexing his long fingers. He laced them together and cracked his knuckles. ‘Never in doubt.’
Clara gave him a look but said nothing. Her skin was tingling and there was a burnt smell in the air. She guessed that they had all got a little singed near the end.
The Doctor swung the TARDIS monitor screen around and tapped it. ‘Look at that.’
They peered at the display. It showed a profusion of overlapping concentric circles and elegant hexagonal equations. At the centre of the diagram was a bright sphere of coruscating energy, disappearing into a long, swirling vortex.
‘Is that the Phaeron ship?’ Clara wondered.
‘Yes.’
‘It’s gone,’ said Tibby. ‘Taking the Glamour with it.’
‘Like a spider down a plughole,’ the Doctor said. He switched the monitor off with a flourish. ‘Gone for ever.’
‘But Jem…’ said Clara.
‘She had to do it. She was the only one who could make sure the Glamour went down with the Phaeron ship.’
‘We must’ve taken quite a radiation hit when the Carthage engines blew,’ Hobbo said.
The Doctor waved a hand dismissively. ‘Not a problem. The moment you stepped into the TARDIS that would have been dealt with. No ill effects. Just a few scorch marks.’
‘This ship of yours really is a miracle, ain’t it, Doc?’ asked Hobbo. She looked around her in pure amazement.
‘Not a miracle,’ said the Doctor. ‘Just a—’
‘Mockery of time and space, yeah, I get it.’
The Doctor frowned. ‘Actually I was going to say a superb example of relative dimensional engineering.’
Balfour said, ‘We ought to thank you, Doctor…but we lost so many people. Jem gave her life to make sure the Glamour was destroyed. Tanya was killed. Mitch was killed. And Marco…’
The Doctor regarded him severely. ‘I said at the beginning that your mission was dangerous. I wasn’t joking.’
‘I should have paid more attention,’ said Balfour sadly. He looked haggard, almost desolate. ‘I should have abandoned the mission at the outset.’
‘On my word?’ The Doctor was scandalised. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. The Alexandria was a beautiful ship and a bold adventure. Just think: we travelled down the last Phaeron wormhole. We discovered a new planet, lost in the intergalactic void. We found the Carthage. We met the Phaeron themselves! And, most importantly, we helped stop the Glamour once and for all. Believe me, the universe is a better place without it.’
—
The TARDIS stood on the main concourse overlooking the public docking bays of Far Station. Clara watched in amazement as humans, aliens, robots and things she couldn’t even classify wandered around, hurrying towards departure gates and waiting space vehicles or just taking in the sights. It could be bewildering. It could be frightening. But it was never anything less than amazing.
‘Good of you to drop us off,’ Balfour said to the Doctor. He was standing with Hobbo and Tibby in front of the TARDIS.
The Doctor was hanging out of the police box door. ‘Well I can’t have you all cluttering up the TARDIS. You’ve seen what it’s like inside. There’s barely enough room for Clara.’
Balfour smiled. ‘It may take me a while to get over the experience, Doctor, but I’m glad I had it. I’ve learned a lot about myself – and about other people. In fact, I’ve already spoken to Tibby and Hobbo about another idea: Tibby says she’s gained a new insight into some of the Phaeron ruins in other parts of the galaxy. We’re thinking of buying a new starship and—’
‘Don’t tell me any more,’ said the Doctor, raising a hand in surrender.
Clara smiled and nudged him. ‘I think there’s a bit more to it than looking for some old ruins, Doctor.’
‘What are you talking about?’ The Doctor looked at Tibby and Balfour, and suddenly noticed that they were holding hands. ‘What are you doing that for? Holding hands like that. What’s it for?’
‘We’re together now, Doctor,’ said Tibby happily.
‘I can see that. You’re right in front of me. But why are you holding hands like that?’
‘I’ll explain later,’ Clara told him.
‘We thought you and Clara might like to come with us,’ Balfour said.
‘There’s a particular item on Ursa Minor,’ said Tibby. ‘It’s a genuine Phaeron icon. It demands study.’
The Doctor sighed. ‘If you want my advice, and of course you do, then leave it well alone. Forget all about Ursa Minor. Forget about the Phaeron. Forget about anything that demands study, or looks too good to resist, or appears perfect. Go and discover something else.’ The Doctor paused, stared at their clasped hands for a long moment, and then added, ‘Like each other, for example.’
‘What a good idea,’ said Clara.
The Doctor held open the TARDIS door. ‘Clara, come on. Stop interfering. Home time.’
Tibby began to protest, but the Doctor held up a finger for silence and fixed them with a dark look. ‘Listen. To. Me. The Glamour was dragged into oblivion by the Phaeron. People – friends – died in the process. For the sake of their memory, don’t chase after everything that glitters or demands your attention.’
‘But I thought the Glamour was gone for ever?’ said Clara.
‘Forever is a long time,’ said the Doctor. ‘But for things like the Glamour, it is seldom long enough.’
Acknowledgements
With thanks, as always, to Justin Richards, Steve Tribe, Lee Binding and Albert DePetrillo, and all the others involved in the publication of this book that I don’t even know about.
And special mentions and love to Una McCormack and Gary Russell: accomplices, companions, comrades and friends in the telling of the Glamour Chronicles.
And finally Peter Capaldi and Jenna Coleman…for the wonderful Doctor and Clara.
Una McCormack
ISBN 978-1-101-90583-8
The Grail is a story, a myth! It didn’t exist on your world! It can’t exist here!
The city-state of Varuz is failing. Duke Aurelian is the last of his line, his capital is crumbling, and the armies of his enemy, Duke Conrad, are poised beyond the mountains to invade. Aurelian is preparing to gamble everything on one last battle. So when a ho
ly man, the Doctor, comes to Varuz from beyond the mountains, Aurelian asks for his blessing in the war.
But all is not what it seems in Varuz. The city-guard have lasers for swords, and the halls are lit by electric candlelight. Aurelian’s beloved wife, Guena, and his most trusted knight, Bernhardt, seem to be plotting to overthrow their Duke, and Clara finds herself drawn into their intrigue…
Will the Doctor stop Aurelian from going to war? Will Clara’s involvement in the plot against the Duke be discovered? Why is Conrad’s ambassador so nervous? And who are the ancient and weary knights who arrive in Varuz claiming to be on a quest for the Holy Grail…?
An original novel featuring the Twelfth Doctor and Clara, as played by Peter Capaldi and Jenna Coleman
Gary Russell
ISBN 978-1-101-90581-4
I’m an archaeologist, but probably not the one you were expecting.
Christmas 2015, Sydney, New South Wales, Australia
Imagine everyone’s surprise when a time portal opens up in Sydney Cove. Imagine their shock as a massive pyramid now sits beside the Harbour Bridge, inconveniently blocking Port Jackson and glowing with energy. Imagine their fear as Cyrrus ‘the mobster’ Globb, Professor Horace Jaanson and an alien assassin called Kik arrive to claim the glowing pyramid. Finally imagine everyone’s dismay when they are followed by a bunch of con artists out to spring their greatest grift yet.
This gang consists of Legs (the sexy comedian), Dog Boy (providing protection and firepower), Shortie (handling logistics), Da Trowel (in charge of excavation and history) and their leader, Doc (busy making sure the universe isn’t destroyed in an explosion that makes the Big Bang look like a damp squib).
And when someone accidentally reawakens the Ancients of Time – which, Doc reckons, wasn’t the wisest or best-judged of actions – things get a whole lot more complicated…
An original novel featuring the Twelfth Doctor, as played by Peter Capaldi
Deep Time Page 19