Doctor Who_ Companion Piece - Mike Tucker [22]
`But it was clearly established in the reign of His Holiness Pope Sixtus— '
The Cardinal hissed with contempt; the Inquisitor continued.
' — that soul-death occurs five to seven years after brain-stem activity ceases. Until that sad event occurs, the throne is not vacant. It is almighty God who makes the rules, milord:
`Very well, very well. W hat do you expect me to do?'
`W itness the interrogation. As a representative of the Curia, you have
no choice.
`If by the Curia you mean Bonaventure and his gang of Frenchmen, hovering like vultures around John Paul's corpse — '
`There is only one Curia, milord:
`There are two; said the Cardinal tartly. 'Three, if you include what that maniac in the Magellanic Clouds has been doing in the name of our Saviour:
`W e of the Holy Inquisition are in the vanguard of the fight to reestablish orthodoxy.'
`You merely profit from the chaos, del Toro. Now, get what you need from this man and let me be on my way.
The Inquisitor turned to address the Doctor. 'Time Lord. W e have a distinguished guest. Please forgive the delay whist I reset the instruments:
The Doctor tried to say something, but no words came out. He could no longer feel his body. His vision was clear of memory fragments now. The torture chamber seemed unusually bright.
`Look at him; the Cardinal snapped. 'He's quite unconscious.'
`The process takes a few days, Eminence:
`A few days! I don't have the time, man! John Paul is dead — or his soul dying! The conclave is assembling! You know what is at stake! W ar across Christendom!' He drew in an angry breath. 'I know what you're trying to do, del Toro. And your ambitions . . . I won't be delayed here. You will just have to take him down and use more traditional methods. You have one hour, whilst I pay my respects to Patriarch Julian:
The old man had been gone too long, and Cat's anxiety about the Doctor hadn't abated. She'd seen him in difficult scrapes before, but this was different. This was too close to home. To her, the Catholic Church was an authority that couldn't be resisted. A bit frightening, really — an undercurrent of absolute, stern authority and veiled menace underlay it all. Her mother had been devout, and her father had let her get on with it. Even her mother's 'hairbrush to the back of the head' routine (when, for example, she'd flooded the kitchen) had seemed to be delivered with papal authority. Maybe that's why she'd blanked it from her mind, buried her childhood memories.
But she hadn't been an unhappy child, she was sure . . .
She hadn't given her parents any thought in years — she didn't even know where they were. Still in Liverpool, she supposed. She'd upped and gone to London as soon as she could get away. Then it all went a bit hazy . . .
And now she was on the other side of the galaxy, and her only remaining friend was probably dead.
`Ah, there you are, child:
The old Patriarch's voice snapped her out of her reverie.
`Father,' she cried, rather too loud. 'Did you . . . ?'
She could see from his face that he didn't have good news for her.
`I'm sorry, my dear. The Grand Inquisitor sent me his apologies via an intermediary. He says he's in a sub-space conference with Rome. W hich is a lie. He had to say something to avoid seeing me. A certain . . . protocol . . . still attaches to my former labours for the Church.'
`So you didn't see him?'
`No. And what I learned from one of the servants gives us little cause for optimism, I fear. Del Toro is in his ship playing with some new toy, and your friend is with him:
`Toy?'
`His filthy instruments of interrogation. No human has ever resisted del Toro, and I doubt a Time Lord could either:
Tut the Doctor's done nothing wrong!'
`He is a Time Lord. That is excuse enough for del Toro . . . Not that he needs an excuse.'
`I don't know what I'd do without the Doctor,' said Cat in a low, tremulous whisper. 'He's . . . all I've got.'
The old man lay a comforting hand on her shoulder and raised it to brush her