Doctor Who_ Alien Bodies - Lawrence Miles [63]
The Doctor was busy prodding the controls by the time Qixotl reached the console, the pixscreen cycling through the schematics of the ziggurat. Eventually, the Doctor found a map of the lowest level, and the screen showed him the complex crissfcross of traps protecting the Relic. The body itself, in its sealed casket, was indicated by a point of solid silver light.
The Doctor stared at it. And stared. And stared.
‘Erm...’ Qixotl prompted.
‘I don’t understand,’ the Doctor muttered.
Qixotl looked up at the taspestry again. Even the vestal virgins were laughing at him, now. ‘Why?’ the Doctor went on. ‘Why would the Time Lords need my body so badly? Homunculette’s an agent of the High Council, he’s not here to make sure I get a decent burial.’
‘It’s like I said, Gallifrey needs your biodata codes. It’s the war.’
The Doctor shook his head. ‘What’s so special about my biodata? All Time Lords have the same sort of thing in their biology. I know I’ve got more practical experience than most of the others, and there’s still that little question of my ancestry to be cleared up, but even so...’
Mr Qixotl wondered how much he could say without the Doctor having a go at him for “damaging the delicate web of space-time”. ‘All right, it’s like this. At the start of the war, Gallifrey lost a lot of stuff, yeah? Most of its secrets got scrubbed by the...’ The Doctor gave him a warning glance. ‘...by the enemy. I mean, I’ll tell you this much, those sods can wipe out information as fast as they can wipe out matter. Most of the Time Lords’ big guns got taken out. The Demat Gun, the Sash of Rassilon, the works. You know how much the High Council’s technology relies on biodata codes, right? Most of the biodata codes went, too.’
The Doctor frowned. ‘I’m an ex-President of the High Council. I’ve got all the codes they need.’
‘Yup. And not just that.’ Qixotl paused. ‘Listen, I’ll try not to give too much away here, but... between now and the time when you, y’know, finally kick the bucket... other stuff happens to you. I mean, you might think you’ve got a lot of weird bits in your biodata now, but wait until the... the end.’ Qixotl wiped his brow with the sleeve of his jacket. This had to be the hardest conversation of his life. ‘Your body’s got all kinds of secrets stuffed into its biodata. Things the Time Lords have lost. And when I say lost, I mean, totally.’
The Doctor considered this for a few moments. ‘They could go back in time. Get hold of the information they need before it was destroyed by the enemy.’
‘Nope. Doesn’t work. The enemy’s fighting a fourdimensional war here. The two sides are in a, what d’you call it, a temporal stalemate. They’re blocking off whole chunks of history to each other.’
The Doctor looked appalled. ‘Then the enemy must know as much about temporal mechanics as the Time Lords do. I don’t think I wanted to know that.’
‘Uh. Anyhow. Gallifrey can’t get in touch with its own past, but technically, you’re not part of Gallifrey’s past. Not any more. You’re a renegade, you’re an independent. Too tricky to put a time blockade on. Besides, your body’s more powerful than anyone else’s, they reckon.’
The Doctor held up his hand, motioning Qixotl to stop talking. ‘All right. I don’t want to know how the war starts, and I don’t want to know who the enemy is. Are. Will be. But you can tell me one more thing. Who are the Celestis?’
Qixotl looked around the chamber. He wasn’t sure why. In case there were any spies hanging around in the corners, he supposed. ‘The Celestis are Time Lords,’ he said. ‘The ones who saw the war coming. I mean, according to Homunculette, the High Council got taken by surprise when it all started. They’ve got that gizmo on Gallifrey for predicting the future...’
‘The Matrix,’ the Doctor said. Qixotl nodded. Actually, he’d known full well what it was called, but he didn’t want to look like he knew too much.
‘Yeah, that. But the Matrix only makes guesses,