Doctor Who_ The Infinity Doctors - Lance Parkin [137]
Constable Peltroc hoisted the phased trion burster up against the keyhole, Captain Raimor keyed the firing sequence. A small group of Watchmen stood around, trying to hold back the Sontarans. Half a dozen Councillors stood nervously on the other side of the room. Technically, they were still at war with the Sontaran Empire, although the Sontarans had been markedly less hostile since the restoration of the transduction barriers.
‘Hey, hey,’ said the Doctor, bustling in, ‘careful with that TARDIS, it’s a family heirloom.’
Acting-President Voran waved his hand, and the two guards lowered the burster, grumbling a little.
‘Open this capsule up, Doctor, we’ve waited long enough.’
The Doctor gave an uncertain smile, fishing the key from his coat pocket, He opened the door, then he stepped back to see what would emerge.
For a moment there was no movement. Then General Sontar stepped over the threshold. The Doctor had left him a broken man, violated and drained by the Rutan. The creature that emerged now was entirely different. It looked like Sontar, but with little of the ancient creature’s brooding menace.
The Doctor acknowledged the Sontaran leader’s arrival, but was more concerned with what was behind him. The soft, gelatinous glow of the Rutan was becoming visible.
The other Sontarans tensed. But Sontar shook his head.
The Doctor gasped.
‘We thought you would have killed each other,’ the Acting-President informed him.
‘I killed the Rutan,’ Sontar said. ‘It killed me.’
‘Over and over, again and again,’ the Rutan echoed.
‘Within the confines of your time machine, the final death is not possible. Within minutes our enemy lived once more, whatever horrors we had inflicted. A fascinating technology.’
Sontar edged forwards. ‘After a while, we realised the futility of our actions. Our thoughts turned to escape. We did not co-operate in these attempts, but each learned from the other’s failures. The console was locked off, and resisted all attempts to reactivate it. There were no other exits.’
The Rutan flared brighter. ‘It soon became clear that escape was impossible. We meditated on our fate – to be confined for ever with the deadliest of our enemies, in the certain knowledge that whatever our hopes, whatever our achievements, that we were doomed. The universe would fall to the Grey.’
‘It was then that we realised how much we shared, how insignificant our differences were. We talked. Events have transpired as you planned, Doctor. Alone, unable to fight or escape, we reached an accommodation.’
The other Sontarans shifted in place, but none dared to contradict their emperor.
‘Thank you, Doctor. Your wisdom has shown us the path to peace.’
‘Thank you,’ Sontar repeated. ‘An unorthodox method, but more effective than a thousand years of peace conferences.
You tricked us into thinking you were a fool, with nothing to say. All the time, you had your plot. Chain us together and leave us to find our own peace. You are a brave and cunning man.’ He slapped the Doctor on the back.
‘Well,’ mumbled the Doctor as he regained his footing, ‘it was nothing.’
‘We will signal our fleets, and signal the immediate cessation of hostilities.’
‘Is it really as easy as that?’ Voran asked. ‘Your entire economies have been geared for war for thousands of years.
War is in your blood.’
‘Blood can change,’ the Rutan said.
‘Both our races are capable of rapid adaptation,’ Sontar explained. ‘As the Time Lords know, clone races are easily controlled,