Doctor Who_ The Gallifrey Chronicles - Lance Parkin [46]
The two men shouted at each other, their words lost in the din of the Edifice tearing itself apart.
The Grandfather flew gracefully over to the console just as the Doctor reached the lever, and began a series of lunges with his one arm, swinging it like a club. The Doctor rolled and dodged, never more than one step in front of his opponent, unable to go in any direction but anticlockwise round 96
the edge of the console. Every time the Grandfather’s hand hit a fragile control panel it punched holes, and splinters and sparks flew out of it. Now they were inches from each other. A palm came down flat on the Doctor’s chest, forcing the air out of his lungs, pinning him to the console. The Grandfather grabbed the Doctor’s arm and bit right into it, through his coat and shirt, drawing blood.
As his opponent raised his cackling, twisted face the Doctor punched it with his free hand, breaking the Grandfather’s nose and grip.
By now, just as the Doctor had planned, they had moved all the way round the console, right back to the lever.
The Doctor made a grab for it.
The Grandfather reached out and caught his wrist with a perfectly executed katate-tori that he just didn’t see coming. But the Doctor had his other hand free now, and there was nothing the Grandfather could do about that.
The Doctor grasped the lever.
The Doctor pulled the lever down.
Then – as if the act had drained him of all his strength – he sagged against the console.
Grandfather Paradox was howling. A strange, anguished sound that the Doctor couldn’t imagine himself making, and which he now knew he never would make. There was nowhere either of them could run. Nothing either of them could do. The die had been cast, and now the two of them simply had to wait for oblivion. It felt like defeat, not a victory.
He could hear the energies of the Edifice gathering together for one final, inevitable, release.
Why could he hear footsteps?
Gallifrey’s atmosphere was swirling off into space in streams of ionised gas.
The ice caps melted, then vaporised. Land and sea were boiling. As great earthquakes rippled across the surface the cities were shattering or tipping into great chasms of lava. The Capitol had been the primary target. Not even photons had escaped its destruction. The few time ships that tried to pull away were torn apart. Time and space were screaming as Gallifrey was uprooted from them. The whole planet was distorted, losing form. The ivory moon, Pazithi Gallifreya, was caught and consumed by one of the atmospheric flares. The Faction Paradox fleet had ceased to exist some time ago, unnoticed and unmourned.
There was a flash as bright as the sun for the merest moment, annihilation so profound that it stretched deep into the past and far into the future. Then Gallifrey was gone.
97
Chapter Six
And the Dream I Had Was True
Marnal didn’t say anything for a moment. The picture had broken up. The forces released during the destruction permitted no observer. The Doctor looked drained. Rachel just stood there and watched them.
‘You destroyed Gallifrey,’ Marnal told the Doctor. He had known, but even he hadn’t quite believed it until he saw it with his own eyes. ‘It was your choice, an active choice.’
The Doctor didn’t say anything.
‘Does that jog your memory?’
‘I get the distinct sense that jogging my memory would be like jogging into a minefield,’ the Doctor said quietly.
‘Do you still deny it?’ Marnal hissed.
‘I never denied it, I said that as a result of what happened that day I lost my Memories. Seeing this doesn’t strike a chord.’
‘A lawyer’s answer,’ Marnal said, ‘a politician’s answer.’
‘The true answer,’ the Doctor insisted.
‘Do you accept the version of events you just saw?’
‘I have a couple of questions about it,’ the Doctor began. ‘It’s missing a lot of the context, I think, but –’
‘Context?’ Marnal shouted. ‘Context? The context is that you committed