Doctor Who_ The Infinity Doctors - Lance Parkin [119]
The alien gave the same grunt as before. He stepped back between Voran and the Infinity Chamber. ‘You are lying, you are a dishonourable creature.’
Voran was rather taken aback. ‘How dare you! I am the leader of the High Council of the Time Lords.’
‘Your title means nothing to me. Show me General Sontar.’
Voran scowled. ‘Oh, go away, would you? I’m far too busy.’
The Sontaran jabbed his claw towards Voran. ‘You have taken the supreme leader of our race hostage. That is an act of war. Our delegation will return to the fathership. If you do not present Sontar to us within one hour, we shall be forced to take military action. We are acting within our rights under Intergalactic Law.’
‘You are declaring war against Gallifrey?’ Voran said, still straining to see around Grol. ‘That is ludicrous.’
Grol strode past him, towards the exit.
Pendrel looked over at Voran expectantly.
‘What?’ the Acting-President asked, shrugging apologetically at an impatient Hedin.
‘You will have to authorise the use of the time scoop to return Sontarans to their fleet,’ Pendrel explained.
‘Fine, fine. Good riddance to them. See to it,’ Voran said, waving hand. ‘I’m sorry, Lord Hedin. You were saying?’
Idly, Larna wondered what Vrayto would make of the Uncertainty Suit.
Her maid would have approved of the fact that it covered every inch of her body except for her face and her hands, but at the same time she would have been shocked by how thin that covering was. It was a matt black skin, stretched taut over every curve and joint of her body like a silk stocking.
Putting the garment on had been an unpleasant experience –
she’d placed a patch on her hip and it had quickly spread over her like a mould. Now it was on, it was dry, and surprisingly warm.
Larna was in the Magistrate’s TARDIS, in the nearest guest quarters to the console room. Modesty had prevented her from changing in the presence of the Magistrate.
She looked in the mirror, and was surprised. Vrayto would definitely approve. Rather than drawing attention to it, the Suit made her body a void, a black shape that you almost instinctively looked away from.
Which was the whole point.
She tied her hair back. Once that was done, she was ready to return to the console room and the Magistrate.
He was also in a Suit. Larna found it impossible to look at him, so instead she concentrated on what he was doing. He was bent over one of the medical units that her team had brought here from Gallifrey. It was a metal casket that bore a disturbing similarity to a coffin. Only the pulsing of soft light from within the box and the two symbols on its lid gave away its true purpose. The Magistrate was using a small tool to stabilise the antigravity field that held the coffin aloft.
He pulled himself up, and Larna giggled when he looked straight past her.
‘Are you ready?’ he asked, taking his place at the console.
‘You know what we must do?’
She took a deep breath and nodded. ‘We fly in, via a parallel universe, the method that the Doctor used, and then rescue him.’
He handed her a small palm-dispenser. It fitted neatly in her hand, sticking there.
It contains four Z-caps,’ he explained, holding one of his own up. ‘Discs the size of a coin that stop the flow of time over a limited area. Press one anywhere on a person’s body and they will be immobilised.’ He slotted the disc back into place, ready for use. ‘Once we have secured the Doctor and timelocked the Needle People, we will locate the Needle’s control centre and disable the defence systems.’
Larna’s expression must have betrayed her feelings, because the Magistrate smiled.
‘There’s no risk,’ she said, ‘I know that.’
Now his smile was wider. ‘There’s a risk,’ he chuckled.
‘We are going to be risking our lives. And our actions down there – actions that the Acting-President does not know about, and which he hasn’t authorised – might well provoke a war between the people on the Needle and the Time Lords.’
She caught her breath, then laughed, suddenly liberated.