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‘Gall-if-rey?’ queried E-Kobalt.

‘THE-HOME-WORLD-OF-THE-TIME-LORDS,’ the Highest Brains explained. ‘THIS-UN-IT-WAS-RE-TURN-ING-FROM-A-PLA-NET-IT-REFERS-TO-AS-DRO-NID. THE-TIME-LORDS-ARE-PRE-PAR-ING-FOR-WAR.’

‘Against-what-force?’

The tendril squeezed the Time Lord, and dangled it in front of E-Kobalt’s senses. The Time Lord shrieked. ‘Please! I can’t! I can’t tell you! I have to keep the secrets of the High Council, they don’t want anyone to know what they’re doing. I can’t tell you about the war. I mean it.’

‘Tell-us-or-you-will-be-dispersed.’

‘I can’t! Don’t you understand? I’ve got a psychic tripwire in my head. All civil servants are fitted with them, it’s standard practice. If I try telling you about anything secret, I’ll set the tripwire off. I’m serious. I’ll have a psychic seizure. I’ll be killed.’

E-Kobalt addressed the Highest Brains. ‘Is-the-bi-ped-telling-the-truth?’

‘WE-BE-LIEVE-SO.’

‘Then-we-can-not-gain-the-re-qui-red-da-ta-from-this-un-it?’

‘NO. BUT-IT-MAY-STILL-BE-USE-FUL. WE-HAVE-AL-READ-Y-AN-AL-YSED-THE-TIME-LORD’S-BI-O-LO-GI-CAL-PROFILE. ITS-GE-NE-TIC-STRUCTURE-HAS-BEEN-MA-NIP-U-LA-TED.’

The Time Lord’s head bobbed up and down, as if it were having trouble aligning its sensory systems. ‘It’s true. Please, I can’t tell you the details, the tripwire... but it’s true, yes, I admit it. I’ve got things wired into my biodata.’

‘Explain.’

‘Oh, no, I can’t... I mean... things. The Rassilon Imprimature. It’s how we control our, er, our vessels. It’s all in my biodata. I mean, there are other things, too, but... please, don’t ask me. Please.’

‘MA-JOR-MO-DI-FI-CA-TIONS-HAVE-BEEN-MADE-TO-THIS-UN-IT’S-BI-OL-O-GY. IT-IS-CA-PA-BLE-OF-COMPLETE-PHY-SI-CAL-RE-GEN-ER-A-TION. THERE-ARE-OTH-ER-GE-NE-TIC-FEA-TURES-WE-CAN-NOT-ANALYSE. WE-BE-LIEVE-THEY-MAY-BE-IN-HE-RENT-WEA-PONS.’

E-Kobalt felt its legs tremble underneath its body. Inherent weapons. Krotons were capable of growing armaments, and attaching new ones to their exterior shells, but to actually have an arsenal inside your genetic structure...

Every Time Lord was a walking warhead, E-Kobalt concluded. No wonder the being known as “Doctor” had been able to defeat an entire Kroton colony. ‘This-un-it-is-not-des-ig-na-ted-for-mil-li-ta-ry-pur-po-ses?’ it queried.

The Time Lord wobbled its cranial unit from side to side. ‘No, no. I told you, I’m a civil servant. That’s all.’

‘Then-Time-Lord-mi-li-ta-ry-un-its-are-fit-ted-with-more-pow-er-ful-in-he-rent-wea-pon-ry?’

‘What? Oh, I see. Yes, I suppose they are. I mean, the Doctor –’

The tendril tightened. The Time Lord gasped for air. There was a terrible rumbling in the air of the cavern. ‘THIS-UN-IT-IS-FA-MI-LI-AR-WITH-THE-DOC-TOR.’

‘The-Doc-tor-is-a-Time-Lord-mi-li-ta-ry-un-it?’ E-Kobalt enquired.

‘Well... sort of,’ the Time Lord gasped.

‘The-Doc-tor-will-be-par-tic-i-pat-ing-in-your-war?’

‘We hope so. We sent out a call, when we found out what the enemy was planning. We asked him to come to... to Dronid. We wanted his... help... with the battle. Please, you’re crushing my ribcage...’

‘Did-the-Doc-tor-respond-to-your-summons?’

‘I don’t know. Really, I don’t. I left Dronid before the fighting started. I’m telling the truth, I promise.’

‘THERE-IS-AN-OB-VI-OUS-CON-CLU-SION,’ the four Highest Brains rumbled. ‘TIME-LORD-WEAPONS-TECH-NO-LO-GY-IS-IN-ADVANCE-OF-OUR-OWN. WE-MUST-STU-DY-THE-GE-NE-TIC-AR-MA-MENTS-OF-THE-SPE-CIES. WEAPONS-SUCH-AS-THESE-MAY-GIVE-US-A-DE-CIS-IVE-AD-VANT-AGE-O-VER-THE-ME-TA-TRAX-I.’

E-Kobalt knew what they really meant, of course. The Krotons were already winning the war, but new weapons were always useful. Once the Metatraxi had been defeated, the Absolute would expand beyond the Quartzline Front, and it was bound to run into other hostile races along the way. ‘What-are-your-instruc-tions?’ E-Kobalt asked.

‘RE-TURN-TO-THE-FIFTH-LATT-ICE. FROM-THIS-MO-MENT-ON-THE-ME-TA-TRAX-I-ARE-NOT-YOUR-CON-CERN. YOUR-MISS-ION-IS-TO-LOCATE-A-MEM-BER-OF-THE-TIME-LORD-MI-LI-TA-RY. THE-DOC-TOR-WOULD-BE-AN-I-DE-AL-SUB-JECT-FOR-AN-AL-Y-SIS.