Doctor Who_ The Infinity Doctors - Lance Parkin [86]
‘If you have to be here, help remove this Sash,’ Grutnoll harrumphed.
It was heavier than it looked, but easy enough to lift over the President’s head. It was a great segmented thing, and it resembled the carapace of an armadillo, only it was made from a material that seemed to be half-gold, half-leather. The Doctor held it in his hands as he bent over the President. The blood was already beginning to dry out.
‘So,’ the old man whispered. ‘Isn’t this what you always wanted?’
The Doctor was rather taken aback. He held up the Sash.
‘This?’
‘ Change,’ the President explained. His voice was so weak.
As Savar had said, a blow to the primary heart was not the most serious of injuries, not with all the medical and scientific techniques at the Time Lords’ disposal. But the President’s body was so old, so weak.
The Doctor considered his response carefully. ‘No. This is a backwards step, this is looking to the past.’
‘Omega was the greatest of all the Gallifreyans, the records are very clear on that.’
The Doctor had read every one of the President’s papers on the subject, he’d helped Hedin with his biography and he had his own special insight into the man.
‘Omega would have been a tyrant,’ the Doctor declared.
‘He wouldn’t just be welcomed on Gallifrey, he’d be lauded, paraded, crowned President. Do you really think that people like Voran and Pendrel would want to stop a man who has crushed stars in his hand, a man who stood side by side with Rassilon as the Capitol fell?’
‘Isn’t that what you always say you want the Council to do? Intervene?’
He lent over the President. ‘I want the Time Lords to help others to reach their potential, I want them to spread peace and knowledge. I didn’t want them to conquer the universe.’
‘No!’ the President snapped. ‘There is another reason you wanted the Magistrate to stay away from the Needle. Tell me!’
‘I can’t.’
‘I am the President of Gallifrey.’
‘I’m in sorry, Lord President, but I can’t tell you.’
‘Very well,’ The President lifted his hand. ‘Castellan Voran.
I place you in charge of this situation.’
The Castellan licked his lips. ‘Such an elevation is against all custom, Lord President.’
The Doctor smiled, sympathising. The promotion was something of a poisoned chalice in the circumstances.
‘That is not so: the President has the right to name his successor. You, Castellan.’
‘Gallifrey needs strong leadership at this time,’ the Magistrate shouted.
‘This could very well be the decision that leads to the destruction of Gall–’ the Doctor stopped in mid-sentence.
‘How?’ the Magistrate asked.
The Doctor could see the Castellan out of the comer of his eye, talking to one of the Technicians. Somehow the Doctor doubted that he had much longer to make his case. ‘You have to trust me,’ the Doctor said. ‘I know a little about what’s down there and –’
‘Doctor?’ the Magistrate asked.
‘Can you hear me?’
Both the Doctor and the Magistrate turned to the Castellan. ‘You’ve cut the sound link.’
‘I have muted the Doctor’s words, yes. Doctor, you are a dangerous influence. The President’s wishes were very clear.
Lord Norval is to prepare for landing on the surface of the Needle.’
The Magistrate loomed over the hologram table. Temporal Monitoring was represented on it, the tiny councillors resembling tiny dolls, or chess pieces. He could see the Doctor gesticulating, but he couldn’t hear him. Behind the Doctor, a small circle of Councillors and monks were running through a rather abridged version of The Ceremony Temporary Investiture, hurrying to ordain the Castellan.
‘No,’ the Magistrate said. ‘Not before I hear what the Doctor has to say.’
The tiny hologram of the Doctor ran forwards, stood right in front of the Magistrate’s hologram. But no words came out.
Instead: ‘Lord Norval, this is the Castellan, invoking Presidential authority. Land your TARDIS, please.’
‘No!’ the Magistrate shouted. But he could tell from his displays that the Station’s voice link had been cut, too.
Gallifrey was talking directly to Norval.