Doctor Who: The Trial of a Time Lord : The Ultimate Foe (4 page)

‘Don’t go! Please don’t go!’ begged Mel.

‘I must. Perhaps nothing in my life has been more important than this, Mel. Come on, Glitz!’ He hauled Glitz towards the opening.

‘Who? Me?’ protested the reprobate. ‘Suppose I just wait here till you get back –’

A mighty yank – and Glitz, protests and all, was through the gap!

The panel glided shut...

Darkness.

And fog.

A solitary gas lamp spluttered and spat as it fought forlornly to illuminate the narrow alley, throwing into eerie relief the decaying Victorian setting.

Suddenly the night air was filled with drunken shouts and rowdy catcalls. Contrapuntally came a sweet chorus of children singing...

‘London bridge is falling down...

Falling down... falling down...’

and then, dominating the cacophony, an echoing, evil laugh.

The Valeyard’s...

A thin strip of intense white light accompanied by a high-pitched, electronic screech, sliced the darkness. A figure was ejected from its midst before the beam vanished: the Doctor.

‘Not a pleasant journey. And rather an unpleasant place, don’t you think, Glitz?’ He turned to look at the spot where he had landed. ‘Glitz? Where are you? Glitz!’

The sole reply was the mocking laugh. Swivelling in its direction, he caught a glimpse of the Valeyard.

Momentarily. Swift-footed, he gave chase... but his quarry was swallowed by a dense patch of yellow fog.

Confused but undaunted, he began a cautious check of the alley, pausing beside a large, full rainwater barrel. ‘I can’t believe you’re in there,’ he said, peering into the water - two powerful, gnarled hands broke the surface and, with enormous strength, grabbed the Doctor’s neck!

‘Glitz..!’ his cry was drowned by the water as his head was pulled, inexorably, down into the barrel...

Evil laughter. A gurgling shout. Glitz heard them both as he staggered from another shaft of white light. Despite entering the Seventh Door together, they had been conducted separately into the fantastic world of the Matrix.

‘Doc?’

‘Glitz!’ came another gurgle. ‘Help me, man! Help!’

Tentatively - and not relishing the role of knight-errant

- Glitz sidled towards the plaintive cry. However, his guise of intrepid rescuer was shortlived. When he arrived at the combat zone, the Time Lord’s head was out of the barrel and he was prostrated beside it.

‘What’s going on?’

I don’t know.’ The Doctor struggled slowly to his feet.

‘That is, I don’t know if what happened was real or just an illusion.’

Since Glitz had not seen what happened, he didn’t know either. The Doc did appear dishevelled, though.

‘Someone’s had a go at you, have they? Torn collar. That’s real enough.’

‘Would you mind?’

‘What?’

‘Feeling in the barrel.’

‘It’s full of water.’

‘Is it?’

Glitz cupped his hands and scooped up the water, allowing it to trickle through his fingers. ‘Okay?’

‘Apparently. But whatever tried to throttle me just now was in that barrel.’

Quick as a flash, Glitz scooted aside. ‘You’re a fine one!

I could’ve been attacked!’

‘Unless - it was simply in my mind...’ The Doctor shook his head. Not a droplet of water flicked from his curly mop.

‘You’re a weirdo, d’you know that? If it wasn’t for the grotzis, you wouldn’t see me for dust! As it is, I’m here under protest. Wherever, "here" is!’

‘ "
Here
" is inside the Matrix. We’re not in the real world any longer.’

‘How can we be in a different world? We stepped through a door, that’s all.’

‘Exactly. Into the Matrix. Where the only logic is that there is no logic!’

‘I knew this was a mistake. Never wanted to come in the first place!’ He rummaged in his pocket. ‘My grip on reality isn’t too good at the best of times.’ He found what he was seeking - a rumpled sheet of paper. ‘Grab hold. This is for you. Now, where’s the quickest way out of -’

‘It’s a note from the Master!’ exclaimed the Doctor after glancing at the note.

‘I know that! I’ve just given it to you!’ He squinted over the Doctor’s shoulder. ‘He said it would be useful.’

‘Did he!’

‘ "The Fantasy Factory, proprietor J. J. Chambers",’ read Glitz.

‘The Valeyard’s base!’

‘Yeah?’

‘Has to be. Why else was I sent the information?’ The Doctor set off into the gloom.

‘Where’re you going?’

‘To find Mr J. J. Chambers.’

‘I can’t see no factory round here.’

‘Neither can I. Come on, Glitz. Best foot forward.’

Glitz hesitated. Either he had to find his way out alone.

Or dog the Doctor.

Discretion being the better part of valour, he tagged after the Time Lord. Jettisoning an article of faith he cherished, Sabalom Glitz wished he were back before the beak! Even that court room would be preferable to these threatening surroundings.. !

‘In all my experience I have never before had to conclude a case in the absence of both the accused and the prosecutor.’

The Inquisitor had resumed her seat in the Courtroom.

‘One and the same person, Madam,’ insisted the Master from the Matrix screen.

‘Couldn’t you switch him off or something?’ said Mel.

‘He gives me the creeps!’

‘May I say you’re a charming girl,’ countered the Master, stroking his Vandyke beard.

‘And may I remind you that this is a courtroom in which we are conducting a very serious trial!’ The Inquisitor’s anger subdued neither protagonist.

‘How can you when you’ve no one to try!’ Mel piped.

‘Unless you try him –
them
as you would phrase it – in
absente reo
, Madam.’

The Inquisitor rounded on the Master. ‘You continue to maintain this absurd notion? Can you prove it?’

‘Indeed I can. I know them both. Intimately,’ he affirmed.

‘Look, Madam Inquisitor, I’m not meaning to be disrespectful and all that... I don’t really know much about legal protocol... what I do know is the Doctor could be in danger and we’re doing nothing to help!’

‘Not
could be
, my dear young girl.
Is
!’ chortled the Master. ‘As you will be privileged to see on this sacred screen. I intend to occupy it for relatively few moments more. I have business affairs that require my presence.

Duty, as they say on your planet, calls..!’

‘You have become a material witness in this trial,’

blustered the Inquisitor. ‘I order you to remain.’

‘Madam, you have no jurisdiction over me. However, since I am minded to remain a while longer, I am content to be debriefed – I believe that is the jargon.’

The Inquisitor adjusted her scarlet sash before commencing her cross-examination: it allowed pause to contain her growing sense of frustration. ‘Assuming I accept what you contend regarding the Doctor, how much of the evidence we have seen was contrived?’

‘For a lie to work, Madam, it must be shrouded in the truth. Therefore, most of what you saw was true.’

A sibilant murmur rustled along the benches as the august Time Lords digested this statement.

‘It rests with us then, to discover which was truth and which falsehood?’

‘Precisely. Although I could elaborate.’

‘A fat lot of use that’d be!’ retorted Mel. ‘He’d twist the facts to fit his own convenience!’

‘You have a delightfully blunt approach. Quite an abrasive personality. An unusual choice of companion for the quixotic Doctor.’

‘Talking of companions...’ the Inquisitor remarked.

‘You could answer one question.’

‘I am at your disposal, Madam. Briefly.’

‘The young person – the girl who died. Was that true?’

She was referring to Peri.

‘Ah mmm... the pert Miss Perpugilliam Brown.’

‘Yes.’

‘That was clever of the Valeyard, exploiting the affection the Doctor had for her.’ The Master was remembering the second case which the Valeyard had submitted. In it, Peri was captured and her body used to house the brain of an ailing alien monster.

To all intents, the Doctor had made little effort to save her.

In the Valeyard’s version of events.

The Doctor, watching the tale unfold on the Matrix screen, had been devastated by his pretty companion’s ghastly end.

‘An exploitation of which the Valeyard took full advantage,’ volunteered the Master. ‘But then, of course, he would know exactly how the Doctor felt.’

‘Do I gather the story was untrue?’

‘Let us say, Madam, the ending was prejudicially falsified.’

‘Then she lives?’

‘She is a queen. Set up on high by that warmongering fool Ycarnos.’

Ycarnos was the leader of a marauding tribe whom Peri had encountered on Ravolox: a warrior of immense strength and size with an overwhelming personality to match. He had been attracted to the waif-like charmer and, by fair means or foul it would seem, had won her affections.

‘I’m pleased.’ The Inquisitor was genuinely relieved: the Doctor’s distress at being party to Peri’s demise had touched her.

Death meant nothing to the Master. ‘Sentiment, Madam, has no place in a court of law. Nor will it keep the Doctor alive.’

Or Sabalom Glitz.

Who was at that moment walking into danger from which the Doctor would be powerless to save him...

7

Bright fairy-lights formed an arc above an illuminated sign

–

‘THE FANTASY FACTORY’

Splayed from the shimmering arc, twinkling, scintillating multicoloured bulbs were arranged to represent dazzling rays springing from a sun cut in half by the horizon.

Below this resplendent display was a balcony that framed a glazed and curtained door. From here, a flight of wooden stairs descended steeply to a courtyard.

Striding into the courtyard, the Doctor and Glitz were bathed in a rainbow hue.

‘The domain of Mr J. J. Chambers presumably,’ mused the Doctor. ‘A puzzle, Glitz. Why should the Master help me?’

‘I never asked. Minding other people’s business is the best way of getting into shtook!’

‘True.’

‘But it isn’t going to stop you, is it?’

‘Quite right. Come on.’

‘Where?’

‘Inside, of course. I want you to meet my other self.’

‘Not me. I’ve done my bit.’ Glitz shuddered. ‘Oooh!

Feels just like someone’s walking over my grave!’ Hardly an original statement... but could it be a prophetic one.. ?

‘Just pop in and say hallo,’ the Doctor urged, making for the wooden stairs. ‘You’ll be perfectly safe.’ Famous last words!

The glazed door was suddenly flung wide.

The sharp, arrow-shaped barb of a harpoon glinted in the whirligig of lights, before streaking, with lethal accuracy, for its target.

Glitz’s scream rent the air... as the harpoon thudded into his chest...

The Master stared sardonically down from the screen: these minions were destined to be at his mercy – although they had yet to become acquainted with the fact. Revelling in his game of cat and mouse, he resumed baiting those present in the Court.

‘Come, no more questions?’

Impotence was an intolerable condition for the Inquisitor. An able jurist with an incisive mind, she had been chosen from many candidates qualified to conduct this important enquiry. It was to have been the pinnacle of her career. The next step, a seat on the High Council. But the fiasco that was now unfolding would put an end to those ambitions.

‘You’ve stayed remarkably silent, Keeper.’ Failing to raise a response elsewhere, the Master switched his attack.

‘Still wondering how I got hold of this?’ Tauntingly, he held up the duplicate key.

The Keeper nervously caressed the genuine Key, but remained mute. What would unauthorised possession of the Key mean to him personally? Reproval? Castigation?

And maybe worse! Suspicion that he had betrayed his solemn trust and been collaborating with the perpetrators of this heinous crime!

‘You claim the High Council is behind the scheme?’

The Inquisitor broke the silence.

‘Indubitably,’ he savoured every syllable. ‘They set up this travesty of a trial, making a scapegoat of the Doctor to conceal their own involvement.’

‘Is there any reason why I should accept that allegation from a renegade Time Lord?’

‘Yes. If your ultimate aim is to elicit the truth.’

Mel had stayed quiet long enough. ‘Truth! Are you sure you know the meaning of the word!’

‘What is it they say on your planet? Red hair denotes a temper?’ he tormented.

‘Ask him what his interest is in the matter,’ she instructed the Inquisitor. ‘Certainly not concern for the Doctor!’

‘Oh indeed not, my fiery vixen. But the Doctor is well matched against himself. One must destroy the other.’

‘It is beyond belief that an individual as evil could have begun his existence in the hallowed halls of Gallifrey.’ The Inquisitor viewed the Master with distaste.

‘You are naive, Madam.’ Back to Mel. ‘I think I would lay a shade of odds on the Valeyard. But the possibility of their mutual destruction must exist. That would be perfect.’

‘Can’t you stop him!’ Mel rounded on the Inquisitor.

‘Sitting here like stuffed dummies while the Doctor –’

‘Be quiet, girl!’ The Inquisitor turned to the Master. ‘I find it difficult to accept that your sole motive for interfering was the base desire for revenge.’

‘Madam, there is nothing purer and more unsullied than the desire for revenge. But if you follow the metaphor, I have thrown a pebble into the water, perhaps killing two birds with one stone, and causing ripples that will rock the High Council to its foundations. What more could a renegade wish for...?’

‘Rock the High Council?’

‘The High Council is impregnable!’

‘He’s speaking treason!’

The sages on the benches did not hide their scepticism.

‘Have him arrested, Madam Inquisitor!’ A hollow-cheeked veteran of two thousand years was completely carried away.

‘One cannot arrest an image, Xeroniam,’ said his neighbour, a mere juvenile of a thousand and eight.