Doctor Who_ Divided Loyalties Part 20

Yes, that had to be it!

He reached the TARDIS, pushed open the door and dropped to the floor of the console room.

Home.

Barely looking, he set the controls for Gallifrey, operating on adrenalin and instinct, and held his breath as familiar sounds indicated departure.

And on the scanner was the s.p.a.ce-time vortex.

Made it,' he whispered. I... we made it, Millennia. We're free.'

He looked at the snowstorm.

It was empty - just liquid slos.h.i.+ng about and a few flakes of snow.

No miniature Capitol.

No Millennia.

And all around the TARDIS echoed the now-hateful sound of the Toymaker's laugh.

George and Margaret stood behind their master, staring over his shoulder at the screen on the robot's chest.

On it, a fuzzy monochrome picture showed the TARDIS materialising on Gallifrey and the unresisting Doctor being dragged out by chancellery guards, humiliated and distraught.

The Toymaker laughed. One day, Doctor, one day we shall play the games again...'

And he turned away, clicking his fingers at George and Margaret who followed him like the faithful grey people they were.

Lying prostrate on the Chinese lacquered table, replacing the mah-jong set, was a string puppet. The robot reached over and picked it up by its control rods. As it was carried towards a toy cupboard it swung heavily on its strings.

It had a dull, bleached female face with painted-on red cheeks and tiny black eyes. Its limbs hung limply, poking out from under a distinctive set of burgundy robes...

3.

Watch Us Fall

The Deca was broken. For ever. There was no going back now.

The High Council stood arranged around the dais in the Panopticon, their faces unreadable as always, the ever-present green lighting reflecting back on their skin. Were they angry? Amused? Concerned?

They might as well have had blank faces like the Toymaker.

The Doctor did his best to look confident, to look a.s.sertive.

But inside, he felt neither.

Standing to one side was the Kitriarch of the House of Stillhaven - Rallon's family. The Brightsh.o.r.e family, Millennia's House, were not present - they could not bear to be in the Capitol alongside the Doctor.

And his friends?

Where were they?

Koschei and Ushas were on Academy research projects elsewhere. Jelpax was most likely too busy, working for records and libraries alongside co-ordinator Azmael.

Mortimus and Drax had both dropped out of the Academy and simply vanished. (There had been some panic when they did so, as it had been a.s.sumed that they, too, had departed with the Doctor.) Only Magnus had come to watch, standing on one of the carved jade walkways that went high up into the domed ceiling - somewhere on the fourth or fifth level, no doubt. As the Doctor had been led towards the Panopticon, Magnus had caught his eye and given him a rea.s.suring nod. He had got himself a.s.signed to the scientific research department for the rest of his time at the Academy.

But what now for the Doctor? Self-pity wasn't one of his more regular traits but, right now, flanked by Gold Usher and a troop of chancellery guards, he felt an overwhelming sense of dread.

The chapter cardinals. The department heads of the Academy. The entire High Council. Castellan Rannex and his guards. All it needed was an appearance by the CIA and his humiliation would be complete.

An appearance by them, or the president.

His reverie was broken by Gold Usher thumping his staff against the black polished floor.

Silence reigned - the Doctor could have sworn everyone held their breath. Unsurprisingly. The steps from the dais to the floorway split slightly, and a dark area was revealed. Behind the steps was another flight of stairs, these ones going downwards.

The Doctor's skin crawled, and he was sweating. His shame had indeed drawn the attention of President Drall. Preceded by two chancellery guards, their customary red-and-white uniforms replaced by gold-and-black facsimiles, the President silently emerged, looking agile for his age.

His immaculate white robes, white headdress and white sandals were a stark contrast to the ebony of his skin. He wore the Sash of Ra.s.silon around his body, carried the Great Key and on his forehead wore the diadem that linked him to the Matrix.

From behind him stepped three more figures, all dressed in black-and-white tabards. All three were members of the Celestial Intervention Agency. All three had been in conference with the President.

The eyes of the President of the High Council of the Time Lords skimmed across his audience, and focused on the Doctor.

And the Doctor felt a probing in his mind like millions of fingers brus.h.i.+ng his consciousness, flicking through his memories, experiences, thoughts, beliefs and fears as he himself had flicked through ancient card indexes in libraries so many times.

Millions of minds, deceased and living, connected to the Matrix, all finding out in one second everything he had witnessed.

Contact,' he heard himself mutter, unable to hold back the word.

A handful of Time Lords and Gallifreyan students in the room said it simultaneously, their minds, like his, untrained at dealing with telepathic investigation.

President Drall held up a hand and Gold Usher thumped the floor again.

If the Doctor believed he could not be more ashamed, he was wrong. Cardinal Borusa was being summoned forward. Held responsible for his failings.

Borusa nodded to the President and then turned to address the a.s.sembled crowds. Those on the floor, those on the countless walkways and those watching the vidcast in the Academy.

Thankfully, his words weren't being publicly broadcast to the Houses or workstations.

Borusa swallowed and then looked at the Doctor. For a brief moment, it was as if they were the only two people in the universe, such was the concentration on both their laces.

You have been educated at Gallifrey's Academy. You have spent many decades here, as part of the Prydonian Chapter, as is your birthright.'

Birthright. It always came back to birthright. The Doctor felt himself becoming angry. Blame him. Shout at him.

Punish him. But why keep on dredging up familial connections? Next thing, he'll mention Quences.

Ordinal-General Quencessetian.o.bayolocaturgrathadadey-yi lungbarrowmas put the request in for your formal education, your possible ascension to the rank of Time Lord and all that is bestowed with it, before you were brought into existence. Many people have given much of their lives trying to instil within you the capacity to think, to act and to understand as a Time Lord should. You have chosen to ignore all of that, believing that you possess a destiny different from everyone else. You have a gift, an intellect and an inquisitive nature that need channelling.'

Whether or not you believe that this Academy can provide you with something to satisfy your precocious character is irrelevant. This Academy is all you have. All you had. had.

Recent... events have meant that we can no longer rely upon you, or your studies.' Borusa cast his eyes downwards. In all our history, we have never had to expel someone from the Academy before.'

The Doctor took a deep breath and clasped the folds of his Prydonian robe near his neck. I am glad to be unique, then,'

he muttered, and immediately wished he hadn't.

A muted gasp circulated through the a.s.sembled Time Lords, and the Doctor felt himself go red.

Borusa shook his head. You have a brilliant mind, but you will never amount to anything in this galaxy while you retain your propensity for vulgar facetiousness. So many of your cla.s.smates have achieved the highest honours, the highest positions.' Borusa cast his eye to the left, and the Doctor followed his gaze to where Jelpax stood to attention. So, he had actually turned up then. And there was dear Azmael, a few paces behind Jelpax, but refusing to catch the Doctor's eyes.

Of course - he had a position in society to consider.

Borusa was still droning on, pointing to Jelpax The proud purveyors of the next wave of Time Lord history have sat at your side, and yet you hold them in contempt.' He turned to President Drall. With your permission?'

The President nodded slowly.

Borusa re-addressed the Doctor. You have broken every edict we have tried to give you, every rule we have written and ignored every principle we hold dear. You are expelled forthwith from the Academy, and all you have so far achieved will be erased. You will spend the next five hundred years in the records area and traffic control. Whilst there, you will study in your spare time for your doctorate.

Should you finally gain it, you will be allowed to reapply to become a Time Lord.'

The Doctor was aghast. Five hundred years, plus a subsequent reapplication to gain rank? Why not sentence him to exile from Gallifrey or disperse his atoms or...

No! No, he would face this with some shred of dignity, if only in memory of Rallon and Millennia. He could never bring them back, but he would do it all again, for them.

Not for Quences. Not for Borusa. Not even for dear Azmael.

For his friends, because they had stood by him in adversity, even though it cost them so much.

The Doctor was aware that the crowd was dispersing, but no one came to him. He was left alone for what seemed like ages but was probably just a few moments. Then a hand rested on his shoulder.

Magnus? You are still talking to me?'

Magnus shrugged. Someone betrayed you, Doctor.

Someone contacted the Celestial Intervention Agency.'

The Doctor frowned. It couldn't be dear Koschei? And Ushas, driven as she was, would only do such a thing if it benefited her directly, which this did not. So, Mortimus?

Wax? Unlikely. That only left two possibilities. Jelpax or Vansell.

Magnus, as if reading his mind, pointed towards the archway leading out of the Panopticon. Easing himself away from the last of the Time Lords and guards was Jelpax.

It was not me,' Jelpax said, once he got closer. I admire you, Doctor. I believe you were wrong, but I admire you for having the courage of your convictions.'

The Doctor suddenly felt very tired. Those convictions cost us dearly, my friends.'

Then he felt Magnus tense up beside him.

Standing to the rear of the hall were three CIA recorders - plus Vansell, similarly attired in black-and-white robes. Vansell marched towards them and the Doctor suddenly understood.

You were with them all along, weren't you? Watching to see which of us would break free of the Time Lords first.'

Vansell shrugged. Yes and no. Yes, I was with the CIA from the day I entered the Academy. No, I was watching you specifically. Drax, Mortimus even, your old friend from the mountains of south Gallifrey near your House, they've already left Gallifrey. They're not the first to choose exile, freedom, whatever, rather than stay here. But you, Doctor, you are the first to interest the agency. You have... potential. We saw it in your genes from the day you came into existence.'

The Doctor wanted to shout, to scream his anger. But no, that was not the way forward. From now on, he was going to have to be very careful, plan very slowly. And if it took five hundred years to get what he wanted, then that was what he would give it. So he just smiled at Vansell.

However,' he said calmly, I have something you lack.

Despite what Chancellor Delox believes, I do understand loyalty. To my friends. To what I believe to be morally right. I have gained a victory over you, Vansell, when I was not even aware there was a war. I have friends. You? You have a job to do, and nothing more. My friends will mean more to me over the coming years than your wrangling, your duplicity, your maliciousness.'

He placed his hands on Magnus's and Jelpax's shoulders.

Friends, Vansell. Look the word up. I will always be there for them.'

I will always be there for them.'

I will always be there for...'

I will always...'