Doctor Who_ Cat's Cradle_ Times Crucible - Marc Platt [109]
The Doctor squirmed inside the glittering mesh, contracting muscles and sinews in the way Harry Houdini had shown him. But the cocoon bit too tightly. To his discomfort he noticed, lying on the edge of the high, slimy platform below him, several discarded human bones.
Outside, the inverted Phases of his SARDIT/TARDIS were grinding together as the dimensions compacted. Ace was still out there. He had to find Ace, because he had seen her future and must sever that timeline possibility before she discovered her cruel fate.
The Watch Tower straddled all three Phases of the City and should have been the first thing to collapse. Instead, its many iron legs shifted and compensated as necessary. Constantly adjusting the fortress's stability as the ground slid and shuddered under it. Something Rassilon would have appreciated.
Rassilon again.
"Must you keep planting ideas in my head?" he complained loudly to Vael.
There was a moment's pause and then the muffled voice from the next cocoon said. "If you really are Gallifreyan, why do you ask so much about Gallifrey?"
"Idle curiosity, that's all," replied the Doctor quickly. "It's a long time since I was there."
"Much more than that, I think," Vael said. "Your thoughts are full of Ancient Gallifrey. Gallifrey in the past. Somewhere I think you cannot go."
Unreadable subconscious instincts warned the Doctor that Vael was just as dangerous and perceptive as he had feared. "If you can read my thoughts," he said, "you can see that I am bound by laws."
"When it suits you, Doctor. But your mind is insatiably inquisitive."
"Take no notice. I'm naturally a curious person."
"Very curious indeed. So what can I tell you?"
"Sorry," said the Doctor, injecting a smile into his voice. "I'm not interested. I have pressing engagements."
"You want to know of the great sea of thought, when all Gallifrey was of one mind."
"Not particularly."
"Why? Does Gallifrey change so much? Is such telepathic power lost, so that you no longer know of it?"
"Some other time," the Doctor insisted. "Do you know anything about escapology?"
"When do you come from? How distant in the future, that you travel in a ship that can become a whole city?"
"There is only Now," said the Doctor firmly.
"But one Now can collide with another." The voice was changing. It became higher and older. Female. Catlike. The Doctor could no longer tell if it was speaking aloud or exclusively in his head. "Come, Doctor," it wheedled, "we will bargain."
"Bargain?" He was determined to keep talking.
"I will tell you of Gallifrey, this Ancient Gallifrey of yours. Of the Great Empire and the mighty wise ones who see to the nine corners of the Universe."
"I can read all that in books."
"Books are as narrow-minded and subjective as the historians who scrawl them. I am the voice of the past. I can tell you all the secrets that your hearts crave to know."
"And?"
"Then you shall tell me of the future."
"Yes. I thought it might come to that."
The urgency in the voice was growing, but the Doctor could not quite decide if it was driven by greed or despair.
"Tell me of the people and the Heroes," it cried. "Of the great deeds and the legends fulfilled. Of the mighty ships that will travel the bounds of Time . . . and the mighty rulers who will despatch them. Answer the questions, Doctor, and all the forbidden secrets of the past shall be yours."
"You're not Vael," said the Doctor.
"Of course not. Vael is not yet ready for the power he will inherit."
"You're the eye in his head. Who are you?"
"Answer my questions and I will tell you."
The Doctor shook his heavy head. It was hard to think at all. Hanging upside down, all his blood was running to his brain. "I