Chapter 6: Who's Who?

Rose's first impression was of darkness, but as her eyes adjusted, she realized that the darkness was simply low lighting. They stood partway up the back of a massive, semi-circular ampitheatre. Behind them, countless more seats stretched back up into the gloom. Far in front of them, the rows of seats stopped before they reached down to the dais at the centre, although a smooth downward slope continued. She could not see the bottom. All the floors, walls and seats were black. As soon as she noticed this, however, the centre of the ampitheatre caught her attention. A shimmering glow at the centre's perimeter divided the sloped area from the dais which was elevated.

'Is... is that a forcefield?' she whispered.

'Yes,' said Eleven just as quietly. 'It extends the full height of the room and over and under. The dais is completely sealed off.'

'If you will follow me,' said Panossian. She led them down to the first row of seats. As they walked down, Rose noticed that each step's edge glowed with a subtle phosphorescence to aid their passage despite the darkness everywhere else.

The clerk gestured to a group of four seats separated from the surroundings by a low railing and facing the centre of the dais. 'These are reserved for you. During any of the proceedings, only use these seats. Also, if you have any questions or need assistance, please ask. There is a call button that will summon me.'

'When-?' began Rose, but Panossian had already melted back into the darkness.

'Ringside seats,' whispered Martha. 'What's that all about?'

Eleven took the last few steps two at a time and plunked himself down in the seat directly in front of the centre. Rose and Martha squeezed past him to reach theirs.

'I don't know,' muttered Eleven. 'They're certainly going out of their way for us. Odd. I don't like odd. Odd is definitely not good.'

'This place is like a fortress,' said Martha. 'Look at that slope. Anybody trying to cross that to the dais would just slide to the bottom. I bet it's slippery.'

Eleven nodded. 'I think you'd also find that at the bottom, the floor is open. Any transgressor would simply fall through.'

'Where to?' asked Rose. She sat down in her chair next to Eleven. Immediately it moulded to her, fitting its outlines to her body. It was comfortable, but unsettling. She squirmed. The contours of the chair moved as she did. She stopped moving.

Eleven shrugged. 'A holding cell perhaps. Something else, maybe. Something below.'

Rose shuddered.

They all fell silent. Rose could hear a low murmur. As she looked around her she suddenly realized that many of the seats were filled with humans and aliens of all kinds. Most of them looked back at her and the other two. More people were coming in to the ampitheatre. She faced forward.

'I still don't get it,' said Martha. 'If the Doctor, I mean, the other Doctor, not you, sorry, is on trial, wouldn't they want the Tardis as evidence or something? Confiscate it at least?'

'You'd think so,' said Eleven. 'They assured me that there'd be no attempt to take it. They don't consider it important. I trust them. Whatever else they might do, they do not deceive. Still, it's odd. As I said, I don't like odd.'

'Aren't they afraid you're going to do something,' persisted Martha. 'Use your Time Lord technology to get the other Doctor out?'

'I can't,' said Eleven. 'They scanned the Tardis before we landed, and they would have scanned us as we stepped outside it. I had to leave the sonic screwdriver-even the psychic paper-inside. We would never have been allowed to come in here with anything they didn't like.'

'But I still have my mobile,' said Martha.

Eleven smiled at her. 'They don't consider that a threat. I imagine you'll find it already deactivated.'

As Martha pulled out her phone to check, Rose stared at the dais. She found her gaze constantly drawn to it. The faint shimmer of the forcefield did not block any view of the area, rather it helped to illuminate the already well-lit space within. To the left, there was a raised chair with a dark, ornate back. In the centre of that back, it seemed as if a symbol were carved, though Rose could not see it clearly as it was angled almost edge on to her. In front of the chair was a desk made of some dark material. It was tall to match the height of the chair but not deep. The chair and desk were imposing but shadowed, as if the occupant were not meant to be the centre of attention. On the right side of the dais, two more chairs and desks, smaller in stature, stood near each other. They too were less conspicuous. All three chairs faced the centre. Behind them, lining the curving back edge of the dais stood a single raised row of ten seats. A front-facing wall ensured that anyone seated there would only be visible from the shoulders up. It also removed visual distraction from the centre of the court area.

In the middle of the dais, in the most brightly illuminated spot, stood two more chairs. These were not as close to the front of the dais as the first three, but they faced forward. One was simple in design and placed closer to the imposing chair on the left. The second stood halfway between its partner and the two desks to the right. However this one had armrests and a high, clear, plexiglass back. It was also enclosed by a thin blue circular rail, which glowed softly.

Rose's stomach churned. 'I don't like this place,' she said suddenly. 'It feels wrong. Just wrong. There's something... wrong.'

Martha and Eleven both looked at her. 'I know what you mean,' said Martha.

'Tell me, you two,' said Eleven. 'What do you smell?'

Rose stared at him. 'That's it,' she exclaimed. 'I can't smell anything. Anything at all. And... and... This place is full of people but I can hardly hear them. What's with that?'

'I can hardly see them either,' added Martha. 'I mean, I can, but they're like shadows. This many aliens... And they always have a different smell. This many here at once and no smell? I don't get it.'

'It was designed to be like this,' said Eleven. 'No distractions, visual, aural, smell... Even comfort. You've probably noticed the chairs...'

'Yeah,' said Rose.

'Everything designed to keep the audience's attention on only one thing.' Eleven nodded toward the dais.

'And us,' suddenly blurted Rose. 'They're staring at us, the nearer ones. But aren't we just shadows too?'

'I don't think so,' said Eleven. 'I think we're part of the show. I fancy that if we were sitting elsewhere, it would look brighter here.'

'Oh,' said Martha. 'Best be on good behaviour then.'

'Will he be able to see us,' said Rose in a small voice.

'I'm not sure,' said Eleven. 'Perhaps.' He took her hand and squeezed it. She curled her fingers through his and clung hard.

'I hope so,' she said.

'Hang on,' said Martha. 'Something's happening. Look.'

At the back of the dais, in the centre of the wall below the curving row of elevated seats, a rectangular outline had begun to glow. Soon it became obvious that it was a door, for soon a figure appeared and walked forward, slowly and with ponderous dignity. Once that being had seated him or herself (Rose could not tell which) on the imposing chair to the left, two more figures came forward from the door. They too seated themselves quietly behind the two desks on the right. There was a pause, but before Rose could wonder why, she realized that the seats ranged above the back facade were filling with people. As with the audience area, however, it was difficult to see their faces clearly. They were anonymous.

When there was no more movement in that back row, a deep bell sounded. Pure in tone, it reverberated through the ampitheatre. Rose could feel it through the floor and her chair. The sound and vibration grew almost to the point of discomfort, and then suddenly faded away.

'Wow,' she heard Martha say under her breath.

A voice spoke, filling the ampitheatre. The voice was measured, deep and unemotional.

'The trial of the Shadow Proclamation against the Time Lord known as the Doctor begins,' the voice said. Rose peered at each of the three people at their desks, but she could not tell which, or if any, of them, were speaking. 'The purpose of this preliminary session is to establish the identity of the accused, to introduce the chief witness, to list the charges against the accused, and to establish the form of this trial.

'The accused will come forward.'

Rose's heart began to hammer. She could see the rectangular glow appear again. She leaned forward. Three shapes appeared out of the doorway.

Flanked by two massive Judoon warriors, Ten looked small. He had been stripped of his clothing and instead wore what clearly was prison garb-a loose-fitting grey tunic and trousers. His feet were bare. Both his hands and feet were in restraints. He walked unsteadily but the Judoon held his arms in a vice-like grip as they propelled him forward.

Suddenly, as the trio reached the middle of the dais, light flooded the ampitheatre, and a tumult burst forth. Screams, yells, and jeers filled the air.

Rose jumped. 'What?' she said.

'What's happening,' cried Martha. 'My god, look at them!'

Rose turned in her seat. She could clearly see the vastness of the ampitheatre. Aliens and humans, great numbers of them, filled the rows as far back as she could see. Many were gesticulating, some were on their feet. The din was overwhelming. Rose looked back at Ten. It was clear that he too could see everything.

'They're trying to intimidate him,' she said, aghast. 'They're doing this on purpose.'

After what seemed hours, the illumination in the audience area dimmed once more, and the noise fell away as if some auditory forcefield were being lowered over the lot.

'I'm sorry,' Eleven whispered in her ear. 'But you're right. They want him to know how much he's on display. He'll know they're there even when he can't see them.'

'Bastards,' muttered Martha.

The Judoon pulled Ten forward and to the chair with the circular rail. As they did so, the rail parted in front and the two halves smoothly slid backward and behind the chair. The jailors deposited Ten on the chair and undid his hand restraints, splitting them into two units. Just as the yelling and screaming seemed loud a minute ago, now the sounds of the catch clicking undone was clearly audible. They placed his arms on the armrests and refastened the now divided restraints. Ten's arms were securely fixed to the chair.

The Judoon then knelt and did the same to Ten's feet. Soon they were secured to the chair legs. The jailors rose to their feet and swiftly retreated through the door. As they did so, the two semi-circular rails slid around again, enclosing Ten in a circle of blue glow. Waist-high, the glow further illuminated his face, making him stand out even more.

Rose looked at him closely. He had dark shadows under his eyes, and clearly he had not shaven. His hair, dishevelled at the best of times, was wilder than ever. She longed to wave at him to show she was there, but she was afraid of breaking some alien rule and prompting punishment to be meted out to her, or worse, to him.

'Three days,' she whispered to Eleven. 'Enough time for him to recover from the Time Vortex?'

'That and nearly dying?' Eleven whispered back. 'Kept isolated and nothing to balance his dodgy sense of reality with? I doubt it.'

'They...' Rose hesitated. 'They haven't hurt him, have they? They'd see he needed a doctor, yeah?'

'Possibly,' said Eleven. 'I-'

But he was cut off. The deep voice sounded again. 'The identity of the prisoner shall be established. The defendant and numerous witnesses have confirmed that the prisoner before you is the Time Lord known as the Doctor. Prisoner! Do you accept this identity? Do you claim to be the Doctor, a Time Lord of the planet Gallifrey?'

Ten didn't move, but answered only, 'I do,' in a low voice.

Rose could feel Eleven tense beside her, but she paid him little heed. Instead, she mentally hugged those two short words to herself, for under the strain that could be heard, those words still carried the soft, rich timbre of his voice that she longed to hear, that she felt starved for since he'd been arrested.

'The Shadow Proclamation also identifies the prisoner as the Doctor, Time Lord of Gallifrey, from our own records. Thus identity is confirmed. Now the list of-'

Eleven slammed his open palm down on a button in a console that Rose had not noticed. He jumped up and shouted, 'I protest!'

'Doctor!' cried Martha, aghast. 'What-'

'I protest,' repeated Eleven loudly. 'This identity is close but not true.'

Their box dazzled with illumination as spotlights from some unseen place streamed in. Eleven stood ramrod straight, chin sticking out defiantly.

In shock, Rose stared up at him, but then she cast a glance at Ten. No longer slumped in his chair, he too was staring at Eleven, clearly startled.

One of the figures behind the two smaller desks on the dais strode forward. 'On what grounds do you make this claim,' asked a female voice.

'On the grounds,' said Eleven, 'that I am the true Doctor, full Time Lord of Gallifrey. The man you are holding is Time Lord, yes, but he is also human. He is of Gallifrey, but he is also of Earth.'

'You do not appear in any of our records,' said the woman.

'Well, yes,' said Eleven impatiently, 'but that's just because I haven't had dealings with you lot since I regenerated. You, er, do know that Time Lords regenerate, hm?'

'We are aware of that part of the mythology,' said the woman.

'I do wish all you people would stop saying "mythology",' said Eleven. 'I don't feel very mythic-'

'Nevertheless,' interrupted the woman, 'the prosecution, the witnesses, the accused himself, and the Shadow Proclamation all confirm his identity. You, on the other hand, have no proof.'

'Yes, I do,' said Eleven. 'Take a sample of my blood. I know that the Shadow Proclamation has access to records of Gallifreyan blood types and DNA patterns. You'll find they match.'

'The prisoner's DNA has already been found to match. The chance of your being another Gallifreyan is unlikely but not impossible. However, that is not a matter of concern. The question is if you are the Doctor. You are one voice against many. You have no proof.'

'I have the Tardis,' said Eleven.

'Of course you do,' said the woman. She smiled. 'If indeed you are another Time Lord, and you travel with the Doctor, then you naturally would become the next pilot once the Doctor has been removed. The Tardis is of no matter.'

'All right,' said Eleven, and he rocked back slightly on his heels. 'All right. Forget the Tardis. Physiology. Ha! You can't argue with physiology. I have two hearts. He only has one. Now, you try to worm your way out of that one.'

The woman looked at him calmly. 'Chameleon arches are also a part of a Time Lord's technology. We know that the Doctor has changed into a human before to suit his own purposes. Superficial arrangements of organs do not interest us. It is the cell structure that is the proof. The prisoner is Gallifreyan, whether or not he has two hearts, and whether or not he has residual human DNA from a chameleon arch or any other reason.'

'Oh, you are a stubborn one,' Eleven muttered. 'But that's your job, isn't it, Madam Defence Counsel.' He ran a hand through his hair. 'Look, can you at least ask him? Let me ask him? He knows the truth.'

The Woman paused, and then she nodded. 'Your request is granted.'

Rose pulled at Eleven's arm. 'What are you doing,' she hissed. 'You both might end up...'

'No, we won't,' said Eleven. 'Too messy having two of us, dividing attention. Not good PR.'

At that moment, a swath of air between the steps by their seats and the front of the dais seemed to shimmer and solidify into a slim footbridge. Eleven stepped out of their row and forward onto the path.

Immediately, Rose lunged to follow, but just as quickly a forcefield appeared in her way. She fell back stunned. Martha caught her from behind. With Rose still in Martha's arms, they watched as Eleven crossed over the bridge and stepped onto the dais.

The footbridge melted into a shimmer and disappeared as quietly as it came. But Eleven now stood beside the Woman.

'Ask your question.'

Eleven walked in front of Ten. For one long moment the two Doctors simply looked at each other.

'What are they doing,' asked Rose. She craned her neck.

'I don't know,' whispered Martha in her ear.

Eleven stirred then. 'Do you believe that you are the Doctor?' he asked.

'Yes,' said Ten.

'Am I the Doctor?'

Ten hesitated. Finally, he said, 'You are a Time Lord from Gallifrey.'

Eleven scoffed. 'Oh, come off it! You know that I'm the one they want. I'm the one who should be sitting in that chair.'

'Objection,' cried a new voice. A man from the second of the smaller desks leapt up from his chair. 'The questioner is leading the prisoner.'

'Sustained,' said the disembodied voice.

'All right, all right,' said Eleven hastily. 'Answer me this. Am I the Doctor? Yes, or no.'

Ten stared at Eleven unblinking.

'Answer the question,' said the Woman.

'Yes.' Ten's voice was so quiet it was almost inaudible.

Eleven turned to the Woman. 'Reasonable doubt, I believe, has been established.'

'We'll see about that,' said the Woman. She turned to Ten. 'You say that this person is the Doctor. Do you still claim the identity of the Doctor and all that that entails?

'Yes,' said Ten. His voice was firmer now.

The Woman approached the high desk. 'A question of identity, your Honour. One man challenges the identity of the prisoner, one that has already been confirmed by all other parties involved. I request that Prosecution be given a chance to reassess.'

'Granted,' said the Voice. Immediately, the man who had objected walked towards the back of the dais.

The doorway glowed again, and a woman emerged. The man immediately went to her side and ushered her towards the centre. Rose and Martha both leaned forward.

'She's got to be the chief witness,' whispered Rose. 'Who is she?' She squinted.

The newcomer entered the brightly lit area and walked to the empty seat.

'Oh my god,' said Martha.

Rose looked at her startled. She looked back at the dais. Both Eleven and Ten were staring at the woman.

'Mother?' cried Martha.

To be continued