Doctor Who_ The Infinity Doctors - Lance Parkin [54]
‘Like a ripple in a pond,’ the Magistrate said.
The President grasped the Magistrate’s arm. ‘Indeed. But where’s the centre, hmm? What sort of pebble could possibly do that to the entire universe?’
‘Show me Hindmost,’ the Magistrate ordered.
The scale increased again, and again, and again.
Viewed in its entirety, the universe was a beautiful fractal form. But the same laws that gave it that precisely chaotic shape also smudged its edges Traces and wisps of matter and energy could be found beyond the mathematical boundaries of the cosmos. Hindmost was the most distant significant piece of baryonic matter known to Time Lords.
Space and time had been formed from the Big Bang, and the universe was still expanding out from that central point.
Hindmost was a clump of matter that a fluke of physics had left trailing behind the rest of the universe. That meant that it was the back marker of the expanding universe, for ever plunging forwards with the rest of the cosmos but destined never to catch up. Behind it was nothing. Hindmost was a tiny planetoid, barely big enough for a man to stand on. Not that anyone had ever been there. Only the Time Lords had the ability to detect it, and they could think of no reason to visit.
Apart from its location, Hindmost was unremarkable and it was so far away that a TARDIS would have to be specifically re-engineered for the journey.
A red dot marked the position of the asteroid in relation to the universe. Viewed from this distance, it was clear that the line of distortion was curved, but even at this scale, there was probably only a twentieth of the radius visible.
It was impossibly large. The pebble that had cast this ripple was further away than was physically possible.
Larna wasn’t quite crying.
She was sitting on her own, right in the middle of the deserted refectory. She was hunching up, but at the same time desperately trying to keep her back straight. The Doctor made his way towards her, through the rows and rows of empty benches and trestle tables…
‘I never knew you had such a sense of style,’ he beamed approvingly when he saw what she was wearing. ‘Did you sleep well?’ He placed his tray on the table, and sat opposite her. Larna’s bowl of suet was untouched, she hadn’t so much as picked up her goblet of wine. More worrying, she was toying with a force knife exactly like the one Raimor and Peltroc had shown him a couple of nights ago.
‘Waym’s dead,’ she told him, almost choking on the words.
The Doctor stared at her for a moment, finding it difficult to believe. Waym was a promising Technician, one of Wratfac’s pupils. Larna had been with him yesterday evening, he remembered. They’d all bumped into each other outside her room.
She looked up. ‘I’m sorry, this isn’t the done thing. I shouldn’t be crying in public.’
Larna thought he was horrified with her, the Doctor realised, not at the death of her friend. Her face was so pale.
He looked around. Table after table, bench after bench were empty. There were a handful of kitchen staff around the edge of the room, rearranging cutlery and platewarmers, but no Time Lords. ‘This is hardly public.’
‘Where is everyone?’ Larna wondered.
The Doctor took her hand. ‘How did it happen?’ he asked.
She looked up at him. As he had thought, sharing the news was making it easier to cope with. ‘Stabbed, last night while he was working in Infinity Chamber Epsilon. I was the last person to see him alive. They thought I did it…’ her voice trailed off. She realised that she was brandishing the knife, and handed over to the Doctor, who pocketed it.
‘Who thought that?’ the Doctor asked.
‘A couple of the Watch. They’ve been trying to get a confession out of me all day. In the end they had to let me go.’
The Doctor nodded.
Larna fell silent again, looked down at her plate.
The Doctor leant forward. ‘The death of a loved one is