Doctor Who_ The Infinity Doctors - Lance Parkin [44]
‘This is Nulquemper. The Doctor arrived a few moments ago. He is now –’
‘Priority over-ride. Magistrate, this is Constable Peltroc.
There’s been a –’
‘I’m not alone, Constable. Please give me a moment.’ The communicator went dead and the Magistrate turned to Larna.
‘I will talk to the Constable in the main room. Please join me there, once you are dressed.’
He swept from the bedchamber, closing the door carefully behind him.
The Doctor’s room seemed the same as always, just a little too cluttered for the Magistrate’s liking. However many times he came here, there would always be some new artefact or treasure to see. He smiled. This was the first time that he had found a woman in amongst the bric-a‐brac, He was unsure whether to feel elated or disappointed. Glancing up at the portrait that hung over the fire, the answer came to him. Larna was so young, but she was no longer the Doctor’s student, and she was one of the few things on Gallifrey that he was completely happy with. It was a matter for them, and them alone.
There was no sign of Wycliff. The Magistrate checked the cat’s box.
‘Are you alive or dead in there, puss?’ he asked the box solemnly. There was no reply.
The guest’s chair was where it always was. The Magistrate sat there and called Peltroc.
‘There’s been a murder, sir. A Technician.’ The agitation was evident in the man’s voice. Death was unusual here.
‘The renegade?’
‘Could well be, your lordship. He was stabbed, and, as you know, the masked man carried a force knife. The body’s still here, in Infinity Chamber Epsilon. I called you before I called anyone else.’
‘Epsilon…’ the Magistrate murmured.
There was something in the corner of his eye. Amongst the small heap of junk – keys, coins, datacards – on the table was a force knife. There were a couple of drops of blood on its hilt.
‘That’s right, my Lord, Epsilon.’
The Magistrate steepled his hands. This complicated matters. ‘How tall was the renegade, did you say?’
‘Average size, I’d say. Difficult to say what was inside the cloak.’
‘Could it have been a woman?’ the Magistrate asked.
There was a pause. ‘No reason why not. Damn strong one, though. Is something the matter?’
Lady Larna had come through the door. She had dressed herself in some of the Doctor’s clothes. The Magistrate recognised the brocade waistcoat, he wondered if she did.
Larna and the Doctor were around the same height, and so she carried the outfit well. She was also wearing a collarless white shirt with baggy sleeves and gabardine trousers that she’d had to find a belt for. She had brushed out her blonde hair, and left it loose. She was barefoot. Putting on the Doctor’s clothes had given her some of his confidence, and she stood poised, alert.
‘I’m ready,’ she said.
The Magistrate nodded. ‘Thank you, Constable,’ he told his communicator. ‘Please don’t let anyone in. I will be there shortly.’
Part Two
The End of the Universe
Chapter Five
Cause and Effect
The Doctor had turned his hand to many things over the years, but he hadn’t the first idea how to conduct an interstellar peace conference, he’d known that all along. He had hoped for a degree of informality, and knew that he didn’t want to get bogged down with procedural matters – leaving the room after the second day, elated that they’d finally decided what shape the negotiating table should be, but in reality not one step closer to real achievement, or making a real decision.
However, the first thing he did was a terrible mistake: he asked the Sontarans and the Rutans why they had started fighting.
The origins of The War were a genuine historical mystery, and the subject of academic and popular debate across the galaxy. To prepare for the Conference, the Doctor had tried to lay his hands on as many as possible of the books on the subject. There were thirty or forty distinct theories attempting to account for the start of The War, and each theory branched off in a thousand different directions. It was like studying an evolutionary chart, seeing ideas developing, evolving, refining