Doctor Who_ Father Time - Lance Parkin [127]
Ferran’s visor display was warning him that his suit wouldn’t protect him for many more minutes.
He returned his attention to the couplings. There wasn’t a procedure for this – destabilising the engines was presumably something that would horrify the original designers, whoever they were.
‘Listen to me,’ she insisted. ‘This is wrong. It doesn’t have to end like this.’
‘It’s destiny. It’s our genetic destiny – you mustn’t be allowed to survive. My mother, my father, they must be avenged.’
Ferran remembered his brother’s face staring at him. Zevron was so much older then than he was. With a start, Ferran realised he was older now than his brother had been when he had been killed. It was difficult to imagine.
He remembered how his brother had died, who had killed him, and why.
It had been him or Miranda. And that was still the choice.
‘This can only end in one of two ways,’ he told her. ‘With one of us dead, or with both of us dead.’
Miranda shook her head. ‘No one needs to die. I’ve thought of a better way.’
‘A better way?’ Ferran parroted, full of contempt. ‘Then why not kill me and implement this “better way”? Why not take the Empire for yourself?’
Miranda’s lip twisted into a sneer. ‘I intend to. But I need your help.’
* * *
The Doctor was awake instantly.
Which came as a shock: he didn’t remember blacking out.
The time energies swirled and crackled around him.
He felt so old. He glanced down at his hand. It hadn’t aged, not at all. He should know, he knew what he was looking at like the back of his hand.
Earth. He had to stop the time engine.
The ebbs in time were starting to affect his perception. They were shuffling his memory around like a deck of cards. He remembered blacking out, now – but knew that was still a few minutes in the future.
Earth.
He felt something seeping into his shoes. It brought back a memory he’d never had. He turned to gaze around his surroundings.
He was standing on a beach, with seagulls whirling overhead, and waves lapping at his feet. The light was flame-red, the setting sun was far larger than it should be. Supremacy filled the sky, and looked like it was falling to Earth. It eclipsed the dying sun.
Everything was at stake. Everything.
And as he stared out to sea, there was someone else with him. A man his age, his height, but with closely cropped hair. His lover was dead and the seas were dry. The stars were coming out, now. Night was falling.
The Doctor’s eyes snapped open.
Reality. That would be reality in moments, unless he could prevent...
Prevent what? All those memories had slipped away. They must be in his future now. All he had to do was wait for them to reappear. But there was no time.
He laughed at the irony – he was working against the clock, but the clock was throwing out random numbers.
Energy crackled around him.
But he understood this place now, knew his mind was shaping it, or at least guiding the software and hardware that shaped it. Ferran was throwing the engine out of phase by introducing areas of instability; he was punching holes in certain sections that led to time spillage, and causing the disruption of all the beautiful equations that ran this place.
The Doctor eased the power conduit into place, replaced the relay and activated it.
The power was flowing freely now. The damaged sections of the system were now isolated, the time energies flowed freely, keeping themselves to themselves.
He stepped from the sphere, on to the metal floor. All was calm now.
Ferran was sitting on the floor, Miranda standing over him.
‘You can remove that protective gear, now,’ the Doctor told him.
Ferran shook his head. He was subdued, as if he’d just received some bad news.
He should feel angry with this man, the Doctor thought. This man had driven his daughter from him, kidnapped her, tried to kill her. He’d murdered Debbie, simply because he could.
But the Doctor was too