Doctor Who: The Three Doctors
Page 10
‘So what will he do now?’
The Doctor shrugged. ‘Nothing, I imagine. Just wait.’
Doctor Two nodded in agreement. ‘He’s already waited for thousands of years.’
The rest of the party looked at each other appalled. It was Tyler who expressed their thoughts. ‘This TARDIS of yours is a real marvel, Doctor, but I don’t fancy spending the rest of my life in it.’
A light began to flash over the TARDIS scanner.
The Doctor said incredulously, ‘Someone’s trying to get through.’
Doctor Two rushed to the scanner controls. ‘You don’t think it could be…’
‘Who else?’
Sure enough, the blurred image of the third Doctor appeared faintly on the screen. The old man gave his two other selves the usual disapproving glare. ‘Well, what’s all this – a mass meeting?’
The Doctor glanced round the rather crowded TARDIS. ‘We had to bring them all in here with us,’ he said defensively. ‘Nowhere else safe.’
The old man sniffed. ‘In a pretty pickle, aren’t you? Trapped in your own TARDIS indeed!’
‘It’s all very well for you to talk,’ snapped the Doctor.
‘Talk’s all I can do,’ interrupted the old man, ‘and not too much of that. The transference isn’t stable. So let’s get on with it, shall we?’
‘On with what?’ asked Doctor Two.
‘Putting our heads together and finding a solution – hey?’
Watched by all the others in the TARDIS, the two Doctors froze. Each had one hand touching the other’s temples, one hand resting on the scanner screen. There was a moment’s silence, while the air seemed to throb with mental energy. The two Doctors stepped back, looking at each other with sudden excitement.
‘Then we’re all agreed,’ said the old man on the screen. ‘Risky, but it could work. I wish you both the very best of…’
Abruptly he faded away.
The Brigadier looked at Jo. ‘What was all that about, Miss Grant?’
‘Another of their telepathic conferences, I think.’
‘And the old chap on the screen – he wasn’t…?’
Jo nodded. ‘I’m afraid so.’
‘Three of ’em! I didn’t know when I was well off!’
The two Doctors were laying plans.
‘We’d have to switch off the force-field generator,’ said the second Doctor thoughtfully.
The Doctor nodded. ‘And that will leave us defenceless.’
Doctor Two nodded. ‘We’ll have to risk it, all the same.’
Working quickly, the Doctor began to disconnect a side-panel of the console, while Doctor Two switched off the force-field.
‘What’s going on?’ demanded the Brigadier.
Without looking up from his work, the Doctor said, ‘We think we’ve found a way to deal with Omega.’
Doctor Two, who was helping him to lift away the panel, gave a sudden yelp of excitement. ‘Look – my flute. There it is, stuck inside the generator.’ He was reaching to fish it out, when the Doctor stopped him. ‘No, don’t touch it. It’s exactly what we need.’
‘Oh no! Not my flute.’
‘I’ll get you another. I’ll get you a million of ’em,’ said the Doctor exultantly. ‘Come on, let’s get to work…’
From a storage locker, the Doctor produced a jumble of advanced electronic equipment. The rest of the party looked on baffled as the two Doctors worked furiously.
Jo sighed. ‘Well, at least they’re doing something.’
‘Yes, but what?’ demanded the Brigadier peevishly. ‘And what’s that wretched flute got to do with it?’
In an amazingly short time the task was complete. The end result was a sort of plastic casket, which seemed to glow slightly. Inside it rested Doctor Two’s flute.
With painful politeness the Brigadier tried again, ‘Do you think you might tell me, gentlemen, what all this nonsense means?’
The Doctor gave him a triumphant grin. ‘It means, Brigadier, that we can strike a bargain with Omega!’
‘With a plastic box of tricks and a flute?’
Doctor Two chuckled. ‘The box of tricks is a sort of portable force-field.’
‘And the flute, in the circumstances,’ said the Doctor solemnly, ‘is very much more than just a flute.’ He looked across at his other self. ‘I say, how do we get in touch with him?’
Doctor Two went to the scanner. ‘I’ll send out a general call. He’s bound to hear.’ He twiddled the scanner controls, and said, ‘Omega, we must speak with you. Can you hear us?’
After a moment, a blurred picture of Omega appeared on the screen. The cruel metal mask stared at them malevolently. ‘Have the rats decided to leave their bolt-hole?’
The Doctor said, ‘We have found a way to give you your freedom. Can you free the TARDIS so we can come to you?’
‘You wish to come to me?’ There was a note of surprise in the voice. ‘Then you shall!’ The picture faded. Doctor Two operated the controls, and the TARDIS dematerialisation noise began.
‘It’s working,’ whispered Jo. ‘Can’t you take us home now?’
‘I’m afraid not. We can go only where Omega wants us to go.’
The journey was a short one. When the TARDIS landed, they stepped out into Omega’s Singularity Chamber, at the base of the great pillar of flame.
The castle was still in ruins, the metal walls cracked and buckled, the roof gaping open to the purple sky.
The Doctor knew that by simply willing it so, Omega could have brought it back to perfect repair. It was a measure of the depth of Omega’s despair that he had not bothered to do even that.
The little party filed out of the TARDIS, the two Doctors in the lead, and stood waiting. Omega did not speak.
‘We have come to help you,’ said the Doctor boldly. ‘We have devised a means to give you your freedom.’
Omega straightened up, and the great metal mask swung towards them. ‘What is this? More trickery?’
‘You must return our friends to safety. We shall stay to assume your burdens.’
Jo sobbed. ‘No, Doctor.’ But the Doctor continued as if she hadn’t spoken.
‘Do you accept our bargain, Omega?’
Omega gestured to the pillar of flame. ‘They may leave. Let them give thanks that Omega is merciful.’
The Doctor turned to the little group. ‘I want all of you to step into that flame. It won’t hurt you. On the contrary, it will take you home.’
There was a murmur of protest. Doctor Two said gently, ‘Please, do as we ask – or you’ll spoil everything.’
The Brigadier took charge. ‘Do as the Doctor says please. Mr Hollis, Dr Tyler.’
Scarcely realising what was happening, Hollis and Tyler stumbled into the pillar of flame and vanished. ‘Benton, Miss Grant,’ ordered the Brigadier. Jo struggled and protested, but at a nod from the Brigadier, Benton simply picked her up and stepped into the flame with her. The two of them vanished. The Brigadier straightened his uniform cap, raised his hand to the brim in salute, stepped smartly into the flame and he too disappeared. The two Doctors were left alone with Omega.
Omega’s voice boomed out. ‘Well, brother Time Lords, I have played your game. I know there can be no escape for me – nor yet for you.’
The Doctor held out the casket. ‘You can have your freedom, Omega. It is here.’
Omega took a step forward, as if he felt hope, in spite of himself. He looked down at the casket. ‘What is this that you bring me?’
The Doctor said, ‘The only freedom you can ever have.’ A sudden ring of command in his voice, he ordered ‘Take it, Omega!’
As if hypnotised, Omega reached out and took the casket. He stared at it in amazement, and started to open the lid.
The two Doctors began to edge towards the TARDIS…
Omega opened the lid, and looked inside. ‘A flute?’
As his metal-gauntleted hand reached out for it, both Doctors started to run.
&
nbsp; Omega’s fingers touched the flute – and he and the world of his creation exploded into nothingness.
11
Three Doctors Minus Two
PERHAPS BECAUSE IT was her second journey down the light-beam, Jo Grant recovered more quickly this time. She woke up, face down on a polished parquet floor, her nose inches away from a government filing cabinet. She looked round. She was back in the Doctor’s laboratory and the room was full of confused people picking themselves up. The Brigadier, Tyler, Sergeant Benton… The laboratory furniture was back too, benches, stools, filing cabinets, all in their proper places. She could see the familiar view through the windows. The building was back where it should be. Everything was back – except the TARDIS.
Panic-stricken, Jo demanded, ‘The Doctors? Where are they?’
Dr Tyler answered her. ‘They got us away first, didn’t they. They made sure of that. Before…’
His voice tailed off. Jo ran across to him. ‘Please, you’ve got to tell me.’
‘Well, if my guess is right, that flute was unconverted matter, our kind of matter. Omega and his world – anti-matter. Put ’em together and – finish!’
Tears came into Jo’s eyes. ‘And finish for the Doctor, too?’ She began to sob.
The Brigadier found he had a lump in his throat. ‘Wonderful chap. Both of him,’ he said, a little incoherently. ‘Privilege to know him. Had his little ways of course – sometimes hasty words – faults on both sides…’
Before the Brigadier went on to say something he might later have regretted, the TARDIS materialised in its usual corner and both Doctors stepped out, beaming happily. ‘Doctor,’ roared the Brigadier, ‘what the blazes do you mean by frightening us like that?’
The Temporal Control Room was ablaze with activity, every piece of equipment in full operation, Time Lords bustling about trying to catch up on their arrears of work. Before one of the screens stood the Chancellor and the President.
‘A brilliant scheme,’ the Chancellor was saying. ‘Of course, you always had my full backing.’
‘Of course,’ said the President, with gentle irony.
The Junior Time Lord looked up. ‘I think he’s coming through now, sir…’
The old man on the screen peered at them. Despite his usual air of grumpiness, there was a twinkle in his eye.
‘Our heartiest congratulations, Doctor,’ said the President. ‘Total success. Omega destroyed and the energy leak checked…’
‘More than checked,’ added the Chancellor. ‘Converted into a new power source.’ He indicated a nearby screen. Where there had once been the black hole was now an expanding blaze of light.
‘I’m glad you’re satisfied,’ said the old man acidly. ‘Black hole into supernova – once again Omega has provided. You really ought to be grateful to him. Put me in touch with the rest of me, will you?’
At a nod from the President, the Junior Time Lord began manipulating the controls. The picture on the screen faded.
The President looked at the Chancellor. ‘I think we should indeed be grateful, my lord. Not to poor Omega, whose end to some extent atoned for his crimes, but to the Doctor, who saved us all from extinction.’
‘What reward would you suggest?’
The President was silent for a moment. He was remembering a trial at which he himself had presided, remembering the sentence passed on the Doctor. A change of appearance, and exile to Earth for an indefinite period…
‘I think we both know, my lord,’ he said. ‘There is only one reward that would mean anything to the Doctor.’
The Doctor stretched an elastic band as far as he could then let it go. It sprang back against his hand and he sucked his stung fingers. ‘And there you are, you see?’
His audience – the Brigadier, Jo, Sergeant Benton and Dr Tyler – looked at him blankly. Jo said, ‘Where?’
Doctor Two was perched cross-legged on the bench, looking at a mouth-organ, but without any real enthusiasm. He played a few bars of ‘Oh Susannah’, not very well.
A little crossly, the Doctor shushed him and explained, ‘Omega’s will was the tension in the elastic. When it let go, everything returned to its proper place. We got to the TARDIS just in time…’
The Brigadier winced as Doctor Two played another trill on his mouth-organ. ‘And all that fuss about the flute?’
A little sadly, Doctor Two took up the tale. ‘I lost it you see – and it dropped into the force-field core of the TARDIS. Then when we were all “converted” – so we could mix with anti-matter – it wasn’t. It stayed in its original state.’
‘We rigged up a portable force-field to keep it that way,’ explained the Doctor, ‘and once Omega touched it, that was it!’
‘Big bang – and black hole into supernova,’ concluded Doctor Two. ‘Pity it had to be my flute. It had a lovely tone…’
Suddenly a plaintive bleeping came from the TARDIS. The Doctor said, ‘Him again – it must be!’ He rushed inside, followed by Doctor Two. A little hesitantly, the others followed them.
The face of the old man was already on the scanner screen, looking at the two Doctors. ‘Only just made it, hey?’ he was saying, not without a touch of gleeful malice. ‘Well, the party’s over now. Everyone back to their proper time zones. You young chaps didn’t do too badly, I suppose. Though the first thing I would have done…’ He faded abruptly away.
Everyone turned to look at Doctor Two. He stood there for a moment, unimpressive as ever, smiling his gentle smile. He held out his hands in a gesture of farewell. ‘Oh dear,’ he said. ‘So nice to have met you all. Goodbye.’ And he too vanished.
Jo gave a little cry of disappointment. ‘Oh Doctor, he’s gone. And he was so sweet!’
The Doctor gave her a rather enigmatic smile. ‘Yes, he was, wasn’t he.’ He shooed them all out of the TARDIS, and came out after them locking the door.
The Brigadier looked round carefully, as if making sure that the second Doctor was really gone. ‘Nice little chap, but as far as I’m concerned, Doctor, one of you is quite enough. Come along, Benton, we’ve got to get this place running again. We’ll have to make a full inventory. Everything’s got to be accounted for.’
Benton rose to his feet obediently. ‘Yessir,’ he said. Then he paused. ‘Sir? – if anything is missing – where do we say it’s gone?’
‘Come along, Benton,’ said the Brigadier firmly, and marched him away.
Tyler said, ‘Well, I’d better be off too. Thanks for the trip, Doctor. I don’t think I’ll write it up for the University though!’
The Doctor sat perched on a stool, elbows on knees, chin in hands, his face sombre.
Jo knew him well enough by now to realise that he never found his victories a source of unalloyed pleasure. Somehow there was always too much sympathy for the defeated enemy. ‘It’s Omega, isn’t it?’ she asked. ‘You’re unhappy because you had to trick him?’
‘I didn’t really trick him, I promised him his freedom, and I gave it to him. The only freedom he could ever have – utter annihilation.’
Jo respected the Doctor’s scruples, but she didn’t share them. As far as she was concerned the end of Omega was a thoroughly good thing. How could you feel sorry for someone who had planned to destroy the entire Universe?
A sound filled the room. It was like the TARDIS dematerialisation noise, only much quieter, and it came not from the TARDIS but from the laboratory bench in front of them. A complex piece of equipment was appearing, fading slowly up into view. To her surprise Jo seemed to recognise it –
The Doctor had been trying to repair something like it when she had first met him in this very laboratory. Ever since she had known him, he had been trying desperately to evade the sentence of exile passed by the Time Lords and get the TARDIS going again.
There was no doubt that the Doctor recognised the strange-looking object. He picked it up carefully, almost with reverence.
‘It’s the Time Lords! They’ve sent me a new dematerialisation circuit.’ H
e clutched his head. ‘And my Time Travel theory – it’s all coming back to me. Don’t you see what this means? They’ve revoked the sentence!’ The Doctor rose to his feet and began striding excitedly about the laboratory. ‘Think of it! All of Space and Time, to roam in as I please.’
‘I am thinking of it,’ said Jo. ‘I suppose you’ll be rushing off just as soon as you possibly can?’
The Doctor stopped his pacing. He’d been less than tactful, he realised, in showing his pleasure so openly. As he looked at Jo’s sad little figure, the Doctor realised something else. Now that the ability to take off in the TARDIS was once more within his power, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go. He knew he’d miss his friends, Jo, the Brigadier, Sergeant Benton, and his life as UNIT’s Scientific Adviser. For the first time, in many years of wandering, he’d found something that could be called a home, and he didn’t want to give it up. Not completely, that is. One or two little trips from time to time, of course…
He put his arm round Jo’s shoulders and gave her a consoling hug. ‘You surely didn’t think I’d just go off and leave you?’
Jo looked at him suspiciously. ‘Frankly, yes!’
‘I couldn’t do that even if I wanted to.’ He held up the circuit. ‘This has to be installed first – and that’s a long and complicated job. The poor old TARDIS will need a thorough overhaul. It’ll all take quite a while.’
‘But you will go – eventually?’
‘Tell you what, when the TARDIS is ready, I’ll take you on a trip. Did I ever tell you about Metebelis, the famous blue planet of the Acteon galaxy? Lakes like great sapphires, mountains of blue crystal…’
Jo wasn’t listening. A sudden worrying thought had struck her. ‘Doctor, what about Mr Hollis, the game warden? He didn’t turn up here with the rest of us.’
The Doctor smiled reassuringly. ‘Well, he didn’t start from here, did he? Don’t worry, Jo. I’m sure Mr Hollis is back in his proper place – just like everyone else. Now, about our trip to Metebelis…’
It all ended very quietly, just as it had begun. Arthur Hollis picked himself up, looked around, and nodded in silent satisfaction. Grass, trees, flowers, and above all birds. The starlings were chattering indignantly, disturbed by his sudden arrival. A flapping sound made him look up. A silvery-grey balloon was tangled in one of the trees. No sign of an orange-coloured box, though, he noted thankfully.