Doctor Who_ The Infinity Doctors - Lance Parkin [52]
‘You concede your inferiority, yet only a Sontaran, with a heart made of war, could think of such an application for a scientific tool,’ the Rutan objected.
The Doctor realised that he was holding the device a little more gingerly than before. ‘You will admit that it can be used for such a purpose.’
‘That much is obvious.’
Sontar leant back in his chair. ‘Doctor, if you were to monitor the star system of Huwyma, three months ago, you will see the “scientific applications” this Converter is put to by the Rutans. Huwyma was a Sontaran colony, now it has been completely destroyed in an anti-matter annihilation.’
The Doctor prompted the desk and a holographic image of the planet faded up over the tabletop. It was as if someone had taken a bite out of the world. Lava was still pouring out from the vast, fresh crater, but the seas had long hissed away, and surely every living thing on the planet must have been dead before that happened. The surface was charcoal, the atmosphere layer upon layer of soot, ash, steam and tektites.
‘Huwyma is a Rutan world, conquered by the foul Sontarans, who used it to create primitive neutron weapons.’
The Doctor looked levelly at the Rutan. ‘That’s not the issue here. Was a Converter used to destroy the colony?’
Krax stood, grasping the edge of the table. ‘Use your eyes, Time Lord! That is the Rutan Converter operating at a mere ten percent of its potential yield.’
The Doctor stayed seated. ‘Sit down!’ he snarled.
Krax found himself sitting.
‘Was a Converter used to destroy the colony?’ he asked again.
‘It was,’ the Rutan stated.
The Doctor took a deep breath. ‘I thought we were here to talk of peace, of ending the war. Instead I discover that you are both trying to escalate the conflict. I am very disappointed.’
He pressed a button on his desk. Both sides became agitated.
‘I’m summoning the Watch. They will escort you back to your quarters. We have said enough for one day. Tomorrow, I hope… you know what I hope.’
The Doctor left the room.
As the Magistrate bowed his head, the rest of the Supreme Councillors watched him, a little suspiciously. They had been about their business when he had summoned them to Temporal Monitoring, he could tell that by what they were wearing. The President, Norval and the Keeper of the Matrix all wore ceremonial robes, so they had been about some official matter. There were a couple in the stark black and white duty robes – they had probably already been here in Temporal Monitoring, or hereabouts. A couple were still in dayclothes. They were all milling around the antechamber to the Monitoring Hall – hadn’t any of them the wit to go in?
‘Why have you have called us, Magistrate?’ Castellan Voran asked. He was one of those in a simple starched toga.
He had probably been in his rooms, reading, when his message had come through.
‘I have an important announcement,’ Hedin declared.
The Magistrate’s eyes narrowed. This was not a time for distractions. ‘Lord Hedin, if it could wait –’
Hedin ignored him. ‘After nearly four centuries’ work, my biography of Omega is complete.’
There was a polite round of applause.
The President stepped forwards, patted him on the shoulder. ‘Congratulations, Lord Hedin. I have proofread the book. I feel that it is the very last word on its subject. As you know I have more than a passing interest myself and –’
‘Lord President,’ the Magistrate interrupted. ‘There have been a number of incidents in the last day.’
‘Incidents?’ a couple of the monks murmured.
‘Are they to do with the aliens?