Doctor Who_ The Infinity Doctors - Lance Parkin [67]
It was an alcove, deep within the Citadel, a place few people ever visited. On the surface it resembled a hundred similar rooms dotted around the Capitol: three enamelled consoles, full of blinking lights and enigmatic displays, set at points facing the centre of the room, a couple of uncomfortable chairs, and a large view screen on the back wall. The lighting levels and gloomy decor would hardly encourage anyone to stay here longer that they had to. This room was situated by one of the great power conduits that ran through the lower half of the Citadel.
This deep down, the floor and walls throbbed with power from the Eye. Rassilon had captured the black hole, brought it to Gallifrey, imprisoned it beneath the Panopticon using unyielding equations and the strongest mathematics. For some reason lost to time, Rassilon had insisted that the black hole be called the Eye of Harmony. There was a bricklined column, like a vast chimney stack, capped by the vast iron globe set in the centre of the floor of the Panopticon, a hundred storeys above, down to the Eye of Harmony, a thousand miles below. Secondary conduits and runnels branched off at irregular intervals. A plan of the energy grid looked like a vast tree, the end of each twig representing an individual power point. Some branches were thick: those that powered the TARDISes, the Infinity Chambers, the Matrix and the other time travel equipment. The smaller branches powered the food machines, the hypocaust, lighting and the other items of domestic equipment.
An infinite amount of raw power blasted from the Eye, up the shaft, and was channelled along the conduits. The spare energy… well, actually, no one knew what happened to the spare energy. Perhaps it was just returned to the Eye of Harmony, perhaps it served some other purpose.
The Lord President and two minor noblemen huddled around one of the control panels. The President was staring into an eyeboard, using his authority to make all the necessary changes to the security codes. Only the President and a handful of the Council were authorised to make such changes. The two noblemen monitored his work, as their duties demanded.
Gradually the five-dimensional map of the timegate began sketching itself in on the display screen, tracing a line parallel to the Effect. As each stage of the journey was plotted, the power requirements were calculated. It would take almost all of the energy generated by the Black Hole to keep the timegate open.
There was an industrial-looking piece of machinery hanging from the ceiling. It was hexagonal, with a number of glass arrays and prisms stuck to the underside. As the President blinked in his authority codes and set up new power channels, the machine began humming, lights began fading up from within it. Within seconds, a column of energy began cascading down. The energy glittered and sparkled like a waterfall: golds and silvers and platinums glinting in the dim light of the room. Before this column reached the floor, though, it twisted into another dimension. Human eyes would have seen it abruptly cut off a foot or so from the floor.
Gallifreyans were more sensitive to time, and saw it twist away like a tornado.
‘Ergosphere at full phase,’ the first nobleman announced.
‘Time column stable,’ the other confirmed.
The Magistrate came into existence. There was no distortion, no delay in the image despite the fact it was being transmitted from many light years away. It was as if the Magistrate was in the room, to the extent that the air moved around the image, and it radiated heat.
‘Preparations here are complete,’ the Magistrate informed his President. ‘The crew have been briefed, our equipment is ready and the TARDISes have been stowed.’
The President acknowledged the news with a small smile.
‘Good work, old friend.’
The Magistrate smirked at the expression. ‘Is the Doctor there?’
The President shook his head.
‘Doesn’t he know about this mission?’
‘We can’t find the Doctor anywhere.’
The Magistrate digested the knowledge. ‘If this mission should