Doctor Who - [093] - The Invasion Of Time Page 2

  The Doctor strode through the wide marble corridors of the chancellery, Andred hurrying to catch up with him. 'Halt!' shouted Andred.

  The Doctor stopped so suddenly that Andred nearly bumped into him.

  'Right you are. Lead the way!'

  'Follow me!' ordered Andred, determined to show who was in charge.

  'Right,' said the Doctor amiably, and they went on their way.

  The Doctor glanced from side to side as they walked along. Much of the Chancellery had been destroyed in the events of his last visit, but it had all been rebuilt by now, and in an even more elaborate style. 'Thing's have changed a bit since I was last here,' he said chattily, and came to a sudden halt outside a heavy, ornately carved door. 'Ah, here we are.'

  Andred stared at him. 'That's the Chancellor's office.'

  'I know!'

  The Doctor moved towards the door, but Andred barred his way. 'No one can go in there unannounced.'

  'Then announce me!'

  Such was the authority in the Doctor's voice that Andred heard himself saying, 'Very well.'

  He opened the door and went into the office. It was a long, high-ceilinged room, richly but simply furnished. Behind a huge desk at the far end sat a tall hawk-faced old man in the robes of a Cardinal, reading an ancient scroll. His face was seamed and wrinkled and his hair snowy white, but his back was straight and his eyes bright with intelligence.

  This was Cardinal Borusa, now the most powerful Time Lord on Gallifrey. Since the assassination of the last President by the last Chancellor, Borusa had been both Chancellor and Acting-President, until such time as a suitable Candidate for the Presidency could be found. That had been some time ago, but as yet no suitable candidate had appeared.

  Borusa looked up, displeased at the interruption. 'Well?'

  'Forgive the intrusion, sir, an unexpected emergency.'

  The Doctor strode into the room, brushing Andred aside.

  Borusa rose and to Andred's astonishment he actually smiled, holding out his arms in welcome. 'Doctor! What brings you back to Gallifrey?'

  There was no answering smile on the Doctor's face. 'I am here to claim my legal right.'

  'What right?'

  'I claim the Inheritance of Rassilon. I claim the titles and honours, the duty and obedience of all colleges. I claim the Presidency of the High Council of the Time Lords.'

  Far away in deep space, the War Leader of the Vardans looked up from the svmbol-covered video-screen, dancing with its intricately patterned shapes... 'I believe we have chosen well.'

  K9 glided to and fro before the TARDIS console. 'Where is the Doctor?' he demanded.

  There was no reply. The TARDIS console, usually throbbing with life was silent, dead.

  'You are a very stupid machine,' said K9 reprovingly, and resumed his patrol.

  Andred and the guards had been dismissed, and the Doctor and Borusa were alone.

  'You do not dispute my claim?'

  The old man looked sadly at his former pupil. The Doctor had always been a secret favourite of his, despite a tendency to rashness and indiscipline. Now he seemed to have slipped over the border between eccentricity and madness. 'I do not dispute the claim, only the lunatic arrogance with which it has been presented.'

  'Still the pedant, eh, Borusa. How you used to bore me when I was at the Academy. All those endless lectures on responsibility and duty...'

  'Which obviously failed to make the slightest impression.'

  'You taught me nothing. Nothing that instinct could not provide better.'

  'Then you must trust your instincts.'

  The Doctor looked strangely at him. 'Yes... And you yours, Borusa.'

  There was an odd little silence.

  Borusa said wearily. 'Very well, I will do my best to persuade the other Cardinals to accept you as President.'

  'I am the President,' said the Doctor with simple arrogance. 'No persuasion is needed.'

  'Politeness dictates...' began Borusa.

  The Doctor interrupted him. 'Is there another candidate-legally?'

  'No. It was an unfortunate oversight."

  'Thank you!'

  'I intended no disrespect."

  'Oh yes you did! Borusa, before you go, I need another lesson.'

  'On what particular subject?'

  'On the Constitution.'

  'You had that at your fingertips, the last time we met.'

  'And if I hadn't, you would have killed me.'

  Borusa winced at the Doctor's accusation. There was an uncomfortable amount of truth in it. 'Not I, but the one who was then Chancellor..." he said defensively.

  The Doctor's previous visit to Gallifrey, the first since he had fled into exile many long years before, had been brought about by the machinations of the Master, his greatest enemy. The Master had assassinated the President of Gallifrey and fixed the guilt of the murder upon the Doctor.

  To escape execution, the Doctor had announced his candidacy for the Presidency, putting himself beyond the reach of the law. At the time this had simply been a legalistic device, to give the Doctor time to discover and unmask the real criminal. Nevertheless the Doctor had been accepted as a candidate for the Presidency, the only opposition candidate was now dead, and no other candidate had ever been brought forward According to the ancient Constitution of Gallifrey, the Presidency had therefore passed to the Doctor by default.

  'I stand corrected,' said the Doctor. 'The Chancellor would have killed me. Did you simply assume his post after his death?'

  Borusa flushed angrily. 'The Council ratified my appointment.'

  'Without a President, the Council can ratify nothing.'

  'There was no President,' snapped Borusa. 'You were President-elect, it is true-but you chose to leave Gallifrey.'

  'And now I have returned as President!' Borusa turned to leave and the Doctor snapped, 'A point which seems to have escaped you, Borusa. You haven't been given leave to depart.'

  'Until you have been confirmed and inducted as President, I do not need your leave to do anything!'

  'Then the ceremony had better take place at once.'

  'It will be arranged as soon as possible--'

  'At once,' repeated the Doctor implacably.

  Borusa was too furious to speak. He inclined his head in the merest suggestion of a bow, turned and walked away.

  A picture of lunatic grandeur, the Doctor leaned back in his chair and smiled.

  With total absorption, the Vardan council studied the tracery of elaborate symbols on their vision screen.

  'An interesting encounter,' hissed the Leader. 'Perhaps we should reconsider our plans for the Doctor. This needs thought.'

  'The plan has been made,' objected one of the council. 'Our course has already been decided.'

  'I may reconsider,' said the War Leader arrogantly. 'The Doctor seems to understand discipline. He could be useful to us. Perhaps we should not kill him after all...'

  Attack from the Matrix

  'No discipline,' stormed Borusa. 'That has always been the Doctor's trouble.'

  The Doctor's orders meant that an induction ceremony had to be arranged with almost indecent haste, and Borusa had come to consult with Kelner.

  The Castellan had listened to the old man's angry recital with noncommittal calm. Kelner was first and foremost a politician. The new President, for all his eccentricities, seemed to be a man of purpose and decision, and, perhaps Borusa's day was already over. Kelner had no intention of allying himself with the losing side. 'Does the President-Elect fully understand the dangers? Does he accept the risk of induction into the Matrix without the necessary period of preparation?'

  'He understands nothing, he accepts nothing.'

  'No discipline!'

  Andred came in and bowed to his two superiors. 'Forgive me, sirs, but the President-Elect desires your immediate attendance.'

  'Then let him rot in the heart of a black star!' snarled Borusa.

  'It is his urgent request, sir,' said Andred ste
adily. As if by accident, his hand touched the butt of his staser pistol. Commander Andred was a soldier, with a soldiers's loyalties. His duty was to serve the ruler of his planet, and as far as he understood it, that ruler was now the Doctor.

  'A request is a request,' said Kelner smoothly. 'After all, Chancellor, it is only a matter of time before the President-Elect is confirmed in his authority.'

  The Doctor received them in the Chancellor's office, still in his mood of manic jollity. He listened with approval to Borusa's report; the arrangements for the ceremony had been put in hand. 'Only a matter of time, then, gentlemen. Still it's always a matter of time, Castellan, especially for Time Lords.'

  Borusa snorted. Kelner smiled humbly at the President-Elect's little joke.

  'Now then,' said the Doctor cheerfully. 'About my office...'

  'Simply a matter of a few formalities, sir,' said Kelner hurriedly.

  'Oh, I know that. I don't mean the office of President, I mean my office, my quarters. You know, a room to sit and think in, somewhere to go when I want to be alone.' He looked disdainfully around him. 'I do so hate all this-squatting.'

  'There are of course the previous Presidents quarters said Borusa acidly. 'He was a man of simple tastes, however. You might not find them adequate.

  The Doctor waved a hand. 'Then we must have them re-furnished.'

  'In what style, sir?' asked Kelner.

  Before the Doctor could reply, Borusa said angrily. 'May I remind you that we are not your lackeys? We are Time Lords. I am Chancellor--'

  'Illegally!'

  'I am a Cardinal, then. That, at least!'

  'Oh yes,' agreed the Doctor contemptuously. 'That, at least. Now, take me to my office.'

  The office of the President adjoined the Chancellor's, and a few moments later, Kelner was ushering the Doctor inside. The rooms, as Borusa had said, were simply, almost sparsely furnished, carved tables, a couch or two, a few ancient tapestries.

  'Oh no, this won't do at all,' said the Doctor. 'Still, the room has possibilities, I suppose. It will have to be completely redecorated of course.'

  'Of course, sir,' agreed Kelner. 'Which style would you prefer?'

  The Doctor gazed round the spacious room. 'Oh, I don't know. Early Quasar Five? A touch of Riga?'

  'The merest hint of the Sinan Empire?' suggested Kelner.

  'Second Dynasty, of course.'

  'Of course, sir,' agreed Kelner.

  Borusa said disgustedly. 'Why not Earth, Twentieth Century? I understand you've spent a good deal of time there?'

  'Well, yes, I did get used to the place. Even liked it at times.'

  Kelner converted the date Borusa had mentioned into Time Lord reckoning. 'Now let me see-that would be Sol Three... Relative date zero point three four one seven three nine eight nine.'

  'On second thoughts, I think I'd prefer the style of the old Thesaurian Empire-zero seven three, I think, the time when there was all that wonderful lead panelling. It was their rarest metal, you know, the equivalent of gold on Earth.'

  Kelner bowed. 'But of course, sir.'

  'Thank you,' said the Doctor graciously.

  'It will take a little time, I'm afraid."

  'Oh, we've plenty of that.' The Doctor glanced at Borusa. 'Eh, Cardinal-I mean Chancellor-Elect.'

  Kelner bowed. 'Will that be all, sir?'

  'No. See to my friend Leela. Have her released, give her comfortable quarters, and suitable dress for my initiation ceremony. I shall expect her to attend.'

  'Yes of course, sir."

  Kelner bowed his way out.

  'May I also leave, President-Elect?' asked Borusa coldly.

  'No. We have things to discuss.'

  'What things?'

  'The redecoration, for instance.'

  'I'm sure the Castellan is quite capable of dealing with that.'

  'Oh, yes, quite. But I would be grateful if you could supervise certain important details. The good Castellan has flaws in his understanding, does he not?'

  Borusa gave the Doctor a sudden thoughtful look, but said nothing.

  'For instance,' continued the Doctor, 'his knowledge hardly extends to the characteristic Thesaurian style of the zero seven three era.'

  'Zero seven three?'

  'Yes, you remember, all those marvellous lead panels. Very primitive, of course, but so effective.'

  'Lead is a very difficult substance to control...'

  'Very few have mastered the art.'

  'Then more must do so. Put your best craftsmen on it-immediately.'

  'Where would you like the lead panels to be placed?'

  'Everywhere, Borusa,' said the Doctor expansively.

  'Everywhere?'

  'Yes!' The Doctor swept his hand round the room in an extravagant gesture. 'Door, walls, ceiling, floor-everywhere!'

  Leela held up an elaborate gold lamé robe and studied it disgustedly.

  'That looks very good,' said Andred encouragingly.

  Leela crumpled the elegant robe and tossed it to the floor.

  Commander Andred sighed. 'Madam, please...'

  'My name is Leela.'

  'Leela, we have tried every style of female attire in the entire cosmos. May I ask what you would like?'

  'I would like a quiver of arrows, a bow, a pouch of Janis thorns, and my knife back.'

  She reached for her knife, which was thrust into Andred's belt, but Andred caught her wrist and forced her hand away-not without effort, since she was almost as strong as he was. For a moment they stood locked in opposition, then Andred put forth his full strength and thrust her hand down and away. 'Madam-Leela,' he said deliberately, 'I have told you many times that I cannot give you back your knife. My guards were quite right to take it from you. All weapons are forbidden here, except for those carried by the guards themselves, for internal security.'

  'You said the Doctor ordered you to look after me.'

  'Yes, those were the President-Elect's instructions, Madam.'

  In fact they had been Kelner's, passed on from the Doctor. Andred had accepted the assignment with mixed feelings. It meant that he would be seeing more of Leela, who was so much more vital and alive than the cool, remote Time Ladies one saw in the Capitol. Her savage beauty had made a considerable impression on Andred. But he hadn't been prepared for her fiercely independent temperament, and he felt as if he had been suddenly put in charge of a female wildcat. Leela had been unimpressed by the luxuriously furnished rooms he had provided for her. Now she was rejecting all his attempts to provide her with a more suitable wardrobe.

  'I am sorry, Madam,' he began again.

  'Don't call me Madam!'

  'I am sorry, Leela, but I cannot give you your weapon.'

  Leela grabbed a box of priceless jewels and threw them across the room. 'Then keep your fine clothes and useless baubles-and keep your President-Elect!'

  In the Chancellor's office, Borusa was finishing an account of the long and complex ceremony that lay before the Doctor. 'And then Gold Usher will formally introduce you to the Matrix.'

  'Just the Matrix,' asked the Doctor idly-but his eyes were bright with concentration.

  'There is no just about it. The Matrix is-everything! The sum total of all the information that has ever been stored, that ever can be stored... the imprints of the personalities of generations of Time Lords and their Presidents-their elected Presidents-will become available to you. It will become part of you, as you will become part of it.'

  'Yes,' said the Doctor slowly. 'That's what I thought...'

  (The Vardan Leader watched the swirling coalescence of symbols on his screen and said, 'Prepare!')

  'But you know all this already,' said Borusa. 'Once before you have entered into the Amplified Panatropic Computer.'

  'Yes... I didn't like it much.' The Doctor had only been able to defeat the Master's murderous schemes by linking his mind with the APC net. In doing so, he had entered a nightmare world, created by the rebel Time Lord who had been the Master's pawn.
It was an experience that had almost cost the Doctor his sanity and his life.

  'The APC net is only a small part of the Matrix,' said Borusa warningly. The psychic shock of union with the Matrix was considerable, and most Presidents-Elect prepared themselves for the ordeal with a long period of mental training. It was typical of the Doctor, thought Borusa, that he was prepared to take the risk with no preparation at all.

  The Doctor said musingly. 'And when I have been introduced to the Matrix, I will have complete power?'

  'More power than anyone in the known universe.'

  'I'll put it to good use-the best use!'

  'That is no more than your duty.'

  The Doctor smiled. 'Oh yes, quite so, Borusa. Quite so!'

  The Vardan War Leader rose. 'Summon the Commanders!'

  'Full Alert?'

  'Not yet. But the first phase is already nearing completion. We must be ready.'

  Andred appeared in the doorway of Leela's chambers. 'Please come now, Leela, it is time. You'll be late for the ceremony.'

  Leela stood in the centre of the room, arms folded. 'I will not come unless you return my weapon.'

  Andred sighed. He took the knife from his belt and passed it to Leela. She slipped it back into the sheath. 'This ceremony-it does the Doctor much honour?'

  'The highest honour that our race can give.'

  'Then I shall not let him down.' Leela remembered the complex ceremonies with which her own tribe marked the creation of a new chief. 'Are there duties for me? Rites I must observe, things I must do or not do?'

  'There is nothing for you to do but attend and observe,' Andred paused. 'Oh, perhaps there is one thing, Leela?'

  'Yes?'

  'It would assist the smooth progress of the affair if you could refrain from killing anyone while the ceremony is in progress.'

  'I will try,' promised Leela solemnly. She followed Andred from the room.

  The grand hall of the Panopticon is an immense circular chamber used by the Time Lords for all their major ceremonies. It is one of the largest and most impressive chambers in the known universe. The immense marble floor is big enough to hold an army, the domed glass roof seems as high above as the sky itself. Row upon row of viewing galleries run around the walls, and on the far side of the hall an impressive staircase leads down to a raised circular dais. By now the hall was filled with rank upon rank of Time Lords, all wearing the different-coloured robes and insignia of the different Chapters, the complex social family and political organisations that dominated Time Lord Society.