CHAPTER ELEVEN - TIMELESS
The Doctors' TARDIS was spinning violently out of control as it was hit over and over again by huge bolts of energy fired from a nearby planet. Inside the TARDIS the Sixth Doctor was being thown around the console room by each impact. He looked over and saw his assistant Mel had already been knocked unconscious and was laying on the console room floor. The Doctor made one last attempt at a quick escape but the console exploded in a shower of sparks throwing the Doctor to the floor, unconscious.

Without anyone at the control the TARDIS instigated an emergency landing. The TARDIS soared into the atmosphere of a nearby planet which was making the exterior of the TARDIS glow fierey red in the process. The landing seemed to take forever but neither the Doctor of Mel was aware as to what was happening. Then there was an almighty explosion as the TARDIS his the ground, miraciously still in one piece.

The Doctor felt the soft warmth of a summer sun as he slowly opened his eyes. He founds himself relaxing in a garden chair and all around him were lush lawns and a wonderful assortment of flowers. The Doctor looked up at the endless blue sky and a smile touched his lips.

"So, wher is the lovely place?" the Doctor said to himself as he looked around. "Gallifrey, Segonax, Skaro, Ravolox maybe." the Doctor looked down by his side. "Ah, yes, of course." He bent down by his side and picked up a paper. "The Pease Pottage Herald." The Doctor put back the paper and folded his arms across his chest as he continued to enjoy the summer sunshine. The Doctor sat bolt upright in the chair and looked around again. "Wait a minute, what am I doing here?"

From somewhere behind him he heard someone call his name. The sound was soft, almost a whisper that was being carried in the wind. "Doctor," the voice whispered.

The Doctor looked down and opened his right hand and noticed he was holding a dozen seeds. He picked one up with his left hand and looked at it more closely. "Silver seeds." He sensed that he recognised them but didn't know why.

"Doctor," the voice whispered again.

This time the Doctor heard the voice and lept up from the chair, dropping the seeds on the floor in the process. "Mel?" the Doctor said looking behind him. "Where are you?"

"I'm in here Doctor," Mel said. The voice was coming from inside a small white country cottage. The wooden door was slightly open and the Doctor could make out an image in one of the windows.

The Doctor walked towards the cottage and pushed the door open. "Mel, how did we get here? What's going on?"

"Just come inside Doctor." Mel said. "I'm in the kitchen and I have a lovely glass of carrot juice."

"Carrot juice," the Doctor mumbled to himself. He walked into the cottage and closed the door behind him.

The Doctor stopped dead and stared. Someone was sitting at Mel's dinner table, but it wasn't her. It was a tell, white-haired, white-bearded man dressed in white flowing robes. A golden coronet crowned his forehead.

"Who are you? Where's Mel?" the Doctor asked.

The stranger smiled. "My name is God, and your companion lives on in her lovely cottage in Sussex."

"What do you mean, lives on?"

"She survived the energy bombardments upon your TARDIS."

"Meaning I didn't?" the Doctor said irritably.

"Yes, I'm afraid you didn't pull though this time." God said.

"Claptrap!" the Doctor exploded. "I am a Time Lord. If, as you say, I was killed, then I would have regenerated by now, therefore I am alive and well."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes! As a matter of fact I am." The Doctor seemed to notice the other person for the first time.

"You seem familiar. Have we met before?"

"Yes, Doctor. We met when I created you."

"Balderdash! Where's my TARDIS gone?"

"Destroyed I'm afraid."

The Doctor shot God a filthy look. "Oh yes? Destroyed by whom?"

"A renegade Time Lord by the name of the Rani."

"Rubbish! The Rani? She wouldn't have the know-how to destroy a TARDIS, she's nothing but a bumbler."

God sighed.

"Let me show you." he said and passed a hand across the Doctor's eye. The Doctor fell into an immediate trance.

The past was played in the Doctor's mind's eye like an old newsreel. The escape from the Valeyard's infernal courtroom, the sudden laser bombardment from Lakertia, Mel lying unconscious, the console exploding and blackness.

"How could Mel get home?" the Doctor asked.

"You sent a mental command before you died and the TARDIS took her home." God explained.

"Are you really God, or just some jumped up cosmic jackanapes?"

God looked insulted.

"Oh very well then - what now?"

"You'll have to surrender your body and soul to me, and I will transport you to Heaven."

The Doctor frowned. "Nope, I don't like that idea."

"It's tradition Doctor."

"I've never cared much for traditions," the Doctor said. "Reminds me too much of home."

"There are no alternatives on offer, Doctor." God said, a little icily.

"The Doctor pointed his finger at God.

"Why do I get the feeling that you're a wolf in sheep's clothing?"

"A very astute observation, my dear Doctor." God said, in a completely different voice. "If you wasn't going to Heaven, you'll have to go to..."

The floor beneath the Doctor opened and he plunged down a fiery tunnel. As he fell, he tried to remember where he'd heard that voice before.

The Doctor found himself in a long queue inside a grubby old building. It seemed to stretch on forever. The Doctor tapped a scrappy little man in front of him on the shouder.

"Not very efficient are they."

"Think yourself lucky if you're just got here." the little man said. "I've been waiting ten years."

Two black-clad men with stern expressions approached the Doctor.

"You the Doctor?" one asked curtly.

"I most certainly am1"

"You get to jump the queue! Come with us."

"My pleasure."

Flanked by the two men, the Doctor was frog-marched along the incredibly long queue to a barred service counter. The two men disappeared into a side door. An elderly, beak-nosed lady with horn-rimmed spectacles peered out at the Doctor.

"Yes, can I help you?"

"I don't know madam - can you?" the Doctor retorted.

"Surely you know what you came here for?"

"Sorry! I haven't got the foggiest!"

"Oh dear," the lady sighed. "In that case, you'll have to see the Prince of Darkness."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Stands to reason I suppose, I've already met God."

The lady handed him a small green ticket with the number six printed on it.

"Take a seat in the waiting room through that door and your number will be called."

The Doctor walked into a small, square room furnished with mouldy sofa's. He sat down next to a skeleton, which chewed gum noisly.

"What are you here for?" the skeleton asked.

"I have no idea." the Doctor replied.

"Good answer" the skeleton said.

"Pardon my asking, but what happened to you?" the Doctor asked.

"I trusted a Dalek."

"Oh, bad luck old man."

A loudspeaker on the wall cracked and a harsh voice came through. "Number siz to see the Evil One."

The Doctor got up and was greeted by the two uniformed men again.

"Let's go curtly." one of them said. The Doctor was taken to a well appointed office. He was told to take a seat at a huge oak table.

"The boss will see you shortly," the second guy in black said. The surly double act left the room.

The Doctor watched as a strangely familiar man wearing a red silk bathrobe sat opposite him. He puffed away on a large cigar. A crimson cravat was tied around his neck., just beneath a neat silver beard.

"Welcome to Hell, Doctor," The Master said.

"I might have known!" the Doctor snorted.

"Ah, yes, but you didn't - did you?"

"What infernal mischief are you up to now, 'Price of Darkness'?" the Doctor mocked.

"I want your soul Doctor," the Master stated. "All of them!"

"You keep trying, but you never succeed," the Doctor said. "You've aged nicely, but surely even you can't require another body so soon."

"Tremas has a few years left in him yet Doctor," the Master cooed.

A wave of revulsion overcome the Doctor. He remembered how the Master, at the end of his regeneration cycle had parasitically taken over Consul Tremas' body, culded by the keepership of Traken.

"So, you're doing this sheerly out of malice?" the Doctor enquired.

"Correct Doctor." the Master said. "You are in my world now - a world created by my will. You will find a thousand torments in my Determinant."

"Hah! I'll defeat you a thousand times then,"

"Not so fast Doctor," the Master cautioned, "I have already encapsulated the psyche's of your first, third, fourth and seventh incarnations, and your eighth regeneration is imprisoned within a time loop. So you see Docotr, your future appears rather bleak."

"It's nowhere, I haven't been before."

"Such mis-placed bluster."

The Master snapped his fingers and he and the room around the Doctor disolved.

The Doctor found himself standing on a large floating piece of rock. A sea of fire surrounded him on all sides. The Master appeared, this time as the Doctor remembered him - dressed entirely in black.

"Welcome to the Great Divide, Doctor. Where you will be offered a choice of three tasks to complete, for my pleasure of course."

"Oh, do please get on with it," the Doctor snapped.

"Very well Doctor, observe the three tasks and make your choice."

Three icons appeared in the air before the Doctor. The first showed the Valeyard, the second represented the Vervoids, and the final icon displayed the Sontaran clone warrior.

"Don't think much of that lot!"

"Really Doctor, you insult me." the Master said. "Very well, I shall choose for you."

"Hang on a minute..." the Docotr began.

A blinding light invaded the Doctor's consciousness and he blanked out.

The Doctor became aware that he was once again sitting in a garden chair in Mel's garden. He felt groggy. He looked around for signs of the Master. He couldn't find any sign of his arch-enemy.

"Must have dreamt it," the Doctor said to himself.

Mel came out of the kitchen carrying two glasses of carrot juice on a silver tray. "There we go Doctor," Mel said smiling.

"Must you be so infernally bubbly?" the Doctor said grumpily.

"Drink up, sourpuss," Mel said handing him a glass of orange liquid. "It will help you tone up."

"Tone up?" the Doctor thundered. "I'll have you know young lady that I am in prime psychical shape."

Mel laughed, as despite himself, the Doctor drank the carrot juice. Energeticaly, Mel was on her feel. "Now then, are you going to keep your promise and help me weed the garden?"

"Oh blast, I'd forgotten all about the weeding." The Doctor glanced over the bottom of the long garden. "Yes, it is beginning to look like a jungle down there."

"Well then?" Mel persisted.

The Doctor sat back further in his chair.

"You start without me Mel, I'm feeling my age at the moment." Frowning, Mel made her way to the bottom of the garden while the Doctor closed his eyes. "To sleep, perchance to dream..."

Mel's high-pitched scream pratically blew the Doctor out of his chair. She was struggling violently against something down the bottom of the garden. The Doctor rushed to his companion's aid.

Mel was in the merciless grip of a fully grown Vervoid. The murderous humanoid pland had her by the throat in a stranglehold. It held a poison dart to her neck.

"Wait, please!" he pleased.

The Vervoid spoke sibilantly. "You didn't hesitate Doctor, wjem you besmirched the Vervoid race aboard the Hyperion 3."

"That was different," the Doctor remonstrated. "You were systematically murdering everyone on board - I had no choice."

"Survival isn't murder."

"Why must you kill? Can't you co=exist with other races?"

"Only the seeding of Vervoid progeny matters to us."

Mel continued to struggle gamely within the monster's grip. "Have you no conscious?"

The Vervoid responded by stabbing it's poison dart into Mel's neck. She convulsed once and flopped lifelessly to the ground. The Doctor stared at the creature, horror-struck.

The Vervoid reached up with a leafy hand and grabbed a metal zip on the front of it's chest. It drew the zip downwards and the Master stepped out of his Vervoid costume. He laughed as the Doctor's shocked expression. "Good wasn't it?"

The Doctor ignored his antagonist and knelt beside Mel's body. The Master stood behind him.

"Why?" the Doctor asked.

"Yes, it's such a shame when autumn leaves start to fall."

The Doctor's eyes blazed in anger. "Bring her back!"

The Master looked solemly back at his adversary. "Oh Doctor, I would if I could, but I wouldn't dream of breaking the laws of time."

The Doctor sprang on the Master and grabbed him by the throat.

The two Time Lords struggled with each other, both equally matched in strength and guile. Suddenly, the Master vanished, causing the Doctor to fall flat on his face. The Doctor quickly got back to his feet and looked around.

The Master stood a little apart from him. "I'm tired of fighting," the Master said reasonably. "Come Doctor, join me in my garden. I must speak with you."

Brushing off his multi-coloured coat, the Doctor suspiciously followed the Master. As they walked, the scenery around them melted away and changed.

Two chairs and a table sat in the middle of a Gazeebo which overlooked beautiful tree-lined avenues and flowerbeds which bloomed with colour. The Doctor took a seat and stole a glance at the Master. His nemesis, once again silver-haired and dressed in red and black smiled back at him.

The Master breathed deeply. "Ah, springtime in the Determinant," he said. "Impressive, isn't it?"

The Doctor examined his surroundings. "You can't be doing this all by yourself."

"There's no fooling you, is there." the Master chuckled. "No, Doctor, in order to realise my vengeance upon you I have merged my mind with that of Siralos - a planet-sized entity of pure mental power, a power I harnessed to create my Determinant."

"Gallifrey will be aware of what you've done. You can't expect the High Council to ignore an infringement of this magnitute." the Doctor said.

The Master howled with laughter. "Those woolly-minded simpletons have no power here Doctor I can assure you that this domain is completely timeless!" The Master produced an old clock and set it down upon the table. "I control everything here."

The Master began to wind the hour hand backwards with a gloved finger. Thunder rumbled overhead and clouds raced across the sky at incredible speed. It was like watching a time-lapse film, as the tres lost their leaves and the flowers died. A breeze blew the leaves across the Gazeebo and a covering of snow obscured the flowerbeds. The Master smiled smugly as snowflaked settled on his beard.

"Face facts Doctor ... I have you!"

The Doctor's mind raced furiously, but even he was beginning to fear the worst. The Master had finally defeated him.

"Penny for your thoughts?" the Master asked.

"I request another challenge!" the Doctor stated.

The Master rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "I have no objections to you prolonging your torment."

The Doctor scowled. "Get on with it!"

The Master smiled. "Very well, Doctor. Enjoy your final attempt at victory," the Master said. "Much good will it do you!"

The Doctor woke up from a seemingly endless sleep. He was lying on the floor in the TARDIS console room. Sleepily, he got to his feet and checked the console. The TARDIS had landed somewhere. The Doctor opened the doors and walked outside.

The Doctor was greeted by an amazing sight. He was standing in the middle of a high domed room. A giant throne dominated the room. A beam of light shone down upon the Doctor, rooting him to the spot. A door at the back of the room opened and admitted a batallion of Sontaran clone warriors who marched into the room and stood to attention. The last Sontaran to enter was a battle-scarred veteran, and highly decorated as such. Intelligent, gimlet eyes glared out of a thick, domed skull. He sat on the throne accompanied by a fanfare.

The high-ranking Sontaran regarded the Doctor. "Prisoner of the mighty Sontaran war fleet, identify yourself."

"I am the Doctor, a Time Lord of Gallifrey."

"You have the honour of being court-martialled by Grand General Satternine."

The Doctor was affronted. "Court-martialled on what grounds?"

"The Murder of fellow Sontaran warriors, Lynx, Styre, Varne and Stike."

"Lynx was trying to pervent the course of human history, Styre was a cold-blooded torturer and Varne and Stike were both betrayed by a nasty race called Androgums." the Doctor said.

"Nethertheless, Time Lord." Satternine snarled. "You have spilled Sontaran blood, and will be punished!"

"Oh no, not another trial." the Doctor said impaitently.

"The prisoner will remain silent unless bid to answer," Satternine snapped. "The evidencewill be read against you."

The Doctor grabbed his lapels and stood proudly. "Grand General Satternine, I challenge you to a duel!"

"Silence!" Satternine roared. "Such a puny organism as you would be little sport!"

"Coward!"

Satternine rose to his feet and approached the Doctor. "Cursed creature! You dishonour me before my troops!"

The paralysing beam of light vanished. Satternine delivered a vicious, backhand slap across the Doctor's face.

"So be it, Time Lord," Satternine rumbled. "A duel to the death it is!" he turned away. "Prepare the combat room!"

"Yes sir!" an adjudicate said.

The combat room turned out to be a long, low-ceilinged arena. The Doctor was marched out into the centre of the room under guard. Satternine was waiting for him. "The prisoner has chosen trial by combat, the method of which will be a joust to the death!"

The Doctor was stripped of his gawdy jacket and handed a spear with a vicious looking point on the end. He tested it's weight thoughtfully. Satternine was presented with his spear. "I promise you a glorious death, Doctor!"

The Doctor glanced up as tier upon tier of observing Sontarans, each one identicial to his neighbour. Satternine donned his battle helmet.

"To the visitor, the spoils!" the Doctor said.

A low rail raised itself from the ground and two powerful horses were brought forward. The two combatants mounted their steeds. Satternine cantered to the other side of the room. The adjudicate stepped back and raised a three-fingered hand.

"Let the trial by combat begin!"

A trumpet sounded. The two duelist's spurred their horses towards each other.

As the Docto's horse thundered towards the Sontaran, the Doctor could have sworn that a bubble-like collection of molecules floated between himself and Satternine. Almost in slow motion, the Sontaran levelled the point of his spear, but the Doctor was overtaken by the sensation that everthing would be okay.

Satternine's spear slammed into the Doctor like an express train, dismounting his adversary. The Doctor hit the ground hard and lay quite still. The Sontaran crowd cheered. The Sontaran General dismounted and approached the fallen Time Lord. Satternine removed his battle helmet. The Master stared down at the Doctor's broken body. He was proud of his Sontaran disguise. Bending down, he placed a cube by the Doctor's body. "To the victor, the spils indeed, my dear Doctor."

An inverted cone of light sucked the Doctor inside the tiny prison cell, completely encapsulating him. The Master regarded the miniaturised, agonised face of the sixth doctor.

"You always proclaimed that you were the 'cat who walks alone', Doctor and now you are utterly alone and completely helpless! One by one, I will vanquish your miserable lives!"

Terminating the Sontaran illusion, the Master placed the cube containing the Doctor next to his other imprisoned 'selves. It was time to call upon the power of Siralos once more.