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By Root 874 0

for the first time. Few Time Lords stopped to consider the thought that had gone into the design of the Panopticon. The statues that stood in each corner were a clever trick of perspective. When you entered the Panopticon, passing under an impossibly high archway, you were immediately faced with the statue of one of the legendary Founders of Gallifrey, the six individuals credited with the creation of modem civilisation. Enter the hall from the north, for example, and you’d see a statue of Omega in the southern corner, a big bearded man, resplendent in a somewhat romanticised version of the hydraulic space suit he’d worn at Qqaba, his helmet under his arm. Your mind would sketch in an idea of scale, and guess that the statue was perhaps three times actual size. You’d walk towards the raised area at the centre of the room. The statue wouldn’t move. Only as you walked out underneath the canopy of the Panopticon Dome would you realise how big this place was, that it would take an hour to cross. And only when you turned around to see how far you’d come did you realise that the arch you had originally come through was formed by the legs of another statue, and that Omega must be the size of a tower block.

If you’d come in from the north, you’d have walked between the Legs of Rassilon, between sculpted feet the size of houses. There was a way of remembering the names of the statues and what they had done for Gallifrey. It was an old nursery riddle, a six-line rhyming logic puzzle that every Gallifreyan learned off by hearts. The Doctor could only remember the first half.’

‘Neath Panopticon Dome

Rassilon faces Omega

But who is the other?’

At that point the Doctor’s memory got a bit hazy. The last word of the next line was ‘brother’, he remembered that much. The Doctor had never been impressed: solving the riddle was rather easy, and even the bits he could remember didn’t scan or rhyme properly.

Regeneration had caused all sorts of problems with Gallifreyan figural sculpture and iconography, but fortunately there was a consensus about what Rassilon looked like. For some reason, lost in the mists of time, the founder of Gallifreyan society was always depicted wearing leather sandals. That made Rassilon the best bet if you fancied a sit down, far better than Omega’s industrial footwear or the spiny combat boots of Apeiron.

‘There were giants in those days.’ It was the Magistrate, emerging from the evening shadows.

The Doctor looked down at him from his vantage point on Rassilon’s big toenail. ‘They weren’t really this big, you know,’ he called down.

‘I was speaking metaphorically.’

‘I know. So was I.’

‘An hour to go.’

‘Yes. But where will it go?’ the Doctor wondered as the Magistrate clambered up to join him. He pulled himself up hand over hand with little effort, not even his knee-length cloak could slow him down. It was the first time they’d been up here since their college days, and it had taken the Doctor five or six minutes to make the climb. Still, the Magistrate did need his help. The Doctor reached down, took his hand, pulled him up.

‘You’re looking smart,’ the Doctor observed as the Magistrate took his place alongside him. ‘Black suits you.’

Underneath his cloak was a collarless tunic. The Magistrate brushed some dust from it. ‘What are you going to wear?’

‘This,’ the Doctor said, flicking his old college scarf over his shoulder. ‘Don’t you think?’

The Magistrate raised an eyebrow. ‘Not very formal.

Scruffy, in fact. Won’t our guests be offended?’

‘Sontarans and Rutans have different sartorial standards,’

he shrugged. ‘I’d dress to impress them, but my suit of armour’s at the cleaner’s.’ The Doctor yawned, looking out over the Panopticon. ‘I’m sure they’ll like the soldiers, though.’

A phalanx of the Chancellery Watch was practising the drill for the morning. They were in full ceremonial uniform, crimson, striped fur, breastplates and cloaks. They’d formed a neat square, and were marching up and down, boots clacking against the marble floor as regular as the tick of a clock. They’d done these drills for