All it takes for Evil to flourish…..
All it takes for evil to flourish…
…is good men to stand by and do nothing.
Edmund Burke
"I want you to have this. Kept it all this time. I thought…"
The cold grey metal shines even in the dim lighting of this almost broken ship as Wilf handles the gun, it glints with an evil that men have never seen fit to understand and sadly I know that they never will. But I swore to myself many lifetimes ago that guns weren't the answer.
"No."
"But if you take it, you could….."
No matter how well-intentioned Wilf is, no matter how much I might see the logic, the reason in his argument, I have to stand true to my beliefs, I have to.
"No."
I have to try and make him see that violence, guns, death, destruction aren't always the answer. I must seem like a coward to him, but I'm just older and have seen enough death to last me…forever.
"You had that gun, in the mansion. You could have shot the Master, there and then."
The unasked question is, why didn't you? Why couldn't you? Why do you think I could … I should kill him? You don't know me. You don't know the Master, our lives, our history. The way that we are bound together throughout time. He was once like a brother to me and I could no more kill him than I could take my own life. Although I'm not sure that he holds the same sentiment for me!
"Too scared, I s'pose."
Good for you Wilf! Stay scared, stay safe. I don't want you to become another who thought it was noble to die instead of me. There have been too many of those already and I have a feeling that our journey hasn't yet run its course.
"I'd be proud"
"Of what?"
"If you were my dad."
"Oh come on…don't start."
When Wilf told me he'd be proud to be my father I had no answer, it was a typical remark, from a remarkable man. Oh Wilf….I wish you had been my father because I know you would have understood why I did what I did, why I ran from Gallifrey, why I fought against all that the Time Lords became.
I can see him struggling now to rationalise…everything. The fact that he's in space, looking down on a world that he is no longer a part of. A world where everybody looks and thinks just like the Master. He's seen everything he thought he knew turned on its head and he thinks that the gun is the answer….if the Master dies then….
"But you said…you were told, he will knock four times. And then you die. Well that's him, isn't it, the Master? The noise in his head? The Master is going to kill you."
I don't doubt that he is right. I know my time is coming to an end and it seems that the Master will be the one to orchestrate my death. Somehow it seems fitting, the last sons of Gallifrey fighting for the Earth….
"Yeah."
"Then kill him first."
The gun is almost pressed into my hands. Wilf…Wilf…Wilf….if only that was the answer. If only I could then I would have and before now, before I had to watch the only other Time Lord being driven mad by a noise that only he can hear. How can I start to explain it isn't MY way? I'm the man who never would….never…..no matter WHAT the cost.
"And that's how the Master started. It's not like I'm an innocent. I've taken lives. And I got worse, I got clever. Manipulated people into taking their own. Sometimes I think a Time Lord lives too long."
It doesn't make me feel any better to tell him that, maybe I'm scared that he will think less of me when he realises that I'm in fact no better than the Master. Oh, I may not have killed in cold blood, but I've done things, made things happen that have led to deaths. From the innocent little people to the corrupt leaders. I've hidden behind the reasons why I didn't have a choice, the rhetoric and arguments - the ends justify the means - just to ease my own conscience and every time it gets harder and harder and every time it destroys a little bit more of who I thought I was...the Doctor.
"I can't. I just can't."
There is a pause whilst he thinks through what I've said; maybe he understands more than I'm giving him credit for. He's on old soldier like I am; he's seen that killing isn't always the answer. I hope he lives long enough to understand what I do here today and why.
If the Master dies….what happens to all the people?
The sudden change of direction takes me by surprise.
"I don't know."
"Doctor. What happens?"
"The template snaps."
"They go back to being human?"
I can't answer that for certain. I mean, if the template snaps then they all revert to who they used to be, but at what cost? Will they remember what happened to them? Will they still hold a piece of the Master inside them? Will they still hear the sound of drums when they close their eyes? All I can do is find a way to break what the Master has done and hope.
"They're alive? And Human? Then don't you dare, sir. Don't you dare put him before them!"
Indignant rage from the last human being, pleading for the survival of his entire race. He's holding the gun to me, willing me to take it, arguing his case. Is his the voice of reason or desperation?
"Now you take this, that's an order Doctor. Take the gun. You take the gun and save your life. Please don't die. You're the most wonderful man and I don't want you to die."
Oh Wilf! I am nowhere near as wonderful as you think I am (although I am pretty brilliant at times!). How can I make you understand? I can't do what you ask of me. Call me a coward, call me a hypocrite, you'd be right but there has to be another way, there's always another way and I'll find it even if it costs me my life.
I feel his hand take hold of mine, rough with the years of a hard-worked life and yet gentle with a care that comes from experience alone. I let him lift my hand and place it against the cold deadly surface of a gun that has never yet been fired in anger. It burns against the palm of my hand, insidiously, telling me that the simple answer lies beneath my hand, all I have to do is close my fist and the fate of the last of the Time Lords is sealed.
His hand is still on mine; together we hold the gun, like an act of faith. Him in me and me in my own resolution not to give in to what would be the easy way out. I hope with both my hearts that when the time comes, when I face the Master for the last time, that I will not shirk from what has to be done. That I will face my death in a way that will make this remarkable old man proud of me, because he deserves no less and I will NOT let him down.
I will not let myself down, there has to be way to undo what the Master has done, all I need is a little more time to find it.
"Never."
I tell him one last time, pushing the gun back towards him and letting it go. We hold each other's gaze for a moment. I see the sadness in his eyes that is then replaced by a determination to help me no matter what and yet again I am humbled by the capacity of this one man to show me all the goodness that still burns in the heart of the human race.
The silence is broken by the silky, sinister tones of the Master, our moment is lost. There is work to be done and I could ask for no better man to be by my side as I face my end.
