Doctor Who_ Father Time - Lance Parkin [35]
The Prefect nodded. ‘I have heard enough. We can find out from the Doctor where the Last One is hiding.’
The Deputy began to usher the Hunters from the room.
‘Hey!’ Rum objected. ‘What happens now?’
‘Your services are no longer required.’
Thélash dug her heels in. ‘When do we get paid?’
‘We will review that shortly,’ the Prefect promised.
‘What does that mean?’
The Deputy smiled. ‘It means if you behave, we’ll pay you. If you cause any more trouble, then we’ll slit your throats.’
* * *
The Doctor and Debbie were sitting in silence when the door slid open and the Prefect and the Deputy entered the reception chamber.
The Doctor raised his glass. ‘Thank you for the drink.’
The Deputy smiled, his earlier gruffness replaced with an amiability that Debbie found at least as disturbing.
‘No doubt you have many questions,’ the Prefect deduced. He was talking to the Doctor, and barely seemed to notice her. She wondered if the women on his planet were second-class citizens, or whether it was a more personal snub.
The Doctor nodded. ‘Where are you from?’
‘You said you were time travellers,’ Debbie reminded him.
‘We are from your future.’
‘When, precisely?’ the Doctor asked, businesslike.
‘The exact figure is difficult to calculate,’ the Deputy told them. ‘But it is several million years hence.’
Debbie was looking over at the Doctor. ‘And that is where the Doctor is from?’
The Doctor was already shaking his head. He may not know what he was, but he did seem to have some sense of what he wasn’t.
‘The Doctor has visited our time zone on a few occasions, but is not a native. Now, if I may: where is the Last One?’
‘Who?’
‘Miranda,’ the Prefect explained.
The Doctor sat back in his chair. ‘Last One? Last what, precisely?’
‘The last empress of the most corrupt regime the universe has ever seen,’ the Prefect said, letting the words hang in the air.
‘Miranda’s not an empress,’ Debbie said, laughing. ‘She’s just a girl. I remember her starting at the school.’
The Doctor winced, and put a finger to his lips.
‘So you know her as well?’ the Deputy asked.
‘I know her,’ Debbie said, defying the Doctor’s silent attempts to shut her up. ‘And she’s not some evil space queen.’
The Prefect nodded, but didn’t look at her. ‘She is not what she seems. She contains the seeds of evil. It is her genetic destiny.’
The Doctor snorted. ‘Nonsense.’
‘She is not human, Doctor. She is the last of her kind. Power corrupted them – they became decadent, sadistic. They believed themselves to be above all other life forms. The lesser races were... playthings to them. Their powers were unrivalled. They started a sequence of events that led to whole galaxies being evacuated, whole sections of the timeline being erased. When that was done, when most of space and time was left broken and dead, they imposed their regime on the survivors, exterminated any opposition.’
The Prefect paused.
‘And so it was for a thousand years. The Imperial Family, rulers of the universe, answerable to no one but themselves. Millions died through their neglect, their cruelty, or just for their sport. There was a Senate, but it was powerless: it lived in fear of the Emperor.’
‘You were a Senator?’ the Doctor guessed.
The Prefect smiled. ‘Yes. There were powerful and influential factions within the Senate. I am the ruler of Faction Klade. The Imperial family let us fight among ourselves for scraps of power and wealth. But then we stopped fighting. Secret meetings were held, alliances forged. A revolution was hatched. The leader of this insurrection was my mother, a powerful Senator. And when the conspiracy was discovered, and my mother was dragged from her home and murdered in the street, that was when the revolution started. Fifteen years ago. I was made to watch, holding my infant brother in my arms.’
Debbie tried to smile sympathetically. The Prefect must have been about her age when it happened.
‘The civil war was brutal, but it was short. The Imperial Family were wiped out, many by my own hand. A new regime rose, a more