Doctor Who_ Prime Time - Mike Tucker [13]
‘Good afternoon, gentlemen. I’m sorry to have brought you here at such short notice.’
‘I hope you’ve got good reason, Lukos. This weather isn’t good for me, you know.’
Lukos smiled. ‘I’m certain that once you have heard what I have to say Me Treeb, the weather will be the last thing on your mind.’
Treeb snorted and creaked back into his chair. Lukos’s eyes narrowed. At least now he knew which of his aged benefactors would be the first to die.
The double doors at the far end of the boardroom swung open and Saarl puffed his way across the polished floor. Lukos leant back in his seat.
‘Ah, Roderik. So kind of you to join us.’
‘I’ve got important things to do.Vogol, Shows to prepare.’
Saarl dropped into his seat. ‘This had better not take long.’
‘Yes, Lukos,’ snarled Treeb. ‘Get this over with. Why are we here?’
Lukos wiped his hand over a panel on the conference table and a huge screen flickered into life behind him, the lights in the room dimming automatically.
‘For several months now I have been working with a new client on a unique new strand of programming. As you are all aware our profits for this financial period are good, but we would all like them to be better. Unfortunately we do spend rather a lot on programmes.’
Lukos touched a switch and images began to scroll across the screen.
‘The last few years have seen us expand through several systems, and we now command almost 87 per cent of the total viewing public in this quadrant of the galaxy. Flagship shows like Walking with Drashigs and Ogron Hospital ensure that we keep ahead of our competitors, but these shows are expensive to make.’
‘I thought that is why we introduced those docusoaps, Vogol, Cheap, popular television.’
‘Quite so, Governor Treeb. Giving gullible members of the populace a few fleeting moments of fame, and very little money, has indeed proved elegantly profitable, and the brain-dead masses watch in their millions. Sadly, because docusoaps are so cheap it has been easy for our competitors to follow our lead and we are beginning to lose ratings.’
A mutter of concern ran around the boardroom. Lukas smiled. That was precisely the effect he had wanted. Board meetings were always a performance for him, a chance to shine. He always had them taped, it was just a shame he could never get them broadcast.
He held up his hand. ‘Gentlemen, please. Believe me, no one is more concerned than I about recovering these viewing traitors. Indeed, our new partners have insisted that we increase our share of the viewing public. I guarantee that our new programme strand will have the eyes of the entire galaxy on the screens of Channel 400.’
His hand waved across the surface of the conference table again and the image of a little man leaning on a red-handled umbrella, his straw hat raised, filled the screen.
‘The star of our new strand.’
There was a snort of contempt from the darkness. ‘Him? A star? Your casting couch must be getting a little desperate, Vogol.’
Lukas’s mouth stretched into a humourless smile. ‘And have you any idea who that gentleman is, Roderik, my dear?’
Saarl shrugged. ‘Some cosmic hobo, a spacenik, that’s all.’
‘Really. Well, if you ever pulled your eyes away from the mirror and cast them over some of our current affairs programmes then you would realise just how important this
“hobo” is.’
Lukas leaned across the desk, his eyes blazing. ‘I assume you have all heard of the Doctor?’
A mutter ran around the table. Lukos smiled. ‘Yes, I thought you might have.’
‘We’ve heard of him, Lukos, but that’s not him.’
‘Wrong, Governor Treeb. It is him.’
Lukas keyed in controls and different faces began to scroll across the screen. A white-haired old man, a slight figure in an Edwardian coat, a tall Bohemian with a long scarf.
‘Each of these pictures is of the Doctor. He is a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey, and has the ability to change his physical form. He is a renegade to his own people and one of the most important figures in the history of this galaxy.’