Religion
Elements n. 7. Religion: sacred items essential to an important religious rite, such as the bread and wine of the Eucharist.
^..^
Which is blacker, the distant, time- and space-bending edge of the universe, far beyond the reach of the faint, twinkling light of stars left so impossibly far behind? Or the pitiless depths of a depraved mind, bent on the domination and destruction of All That Is, yet thwarted in its evil ambition and deprived of its awesome power?
One planet, circling twin stars. One system, set in the mind-bending rainbow of cosmic hues that was the Porterion Nebula. One day, one moment, stretched to the edge of forever, locked into place without hope of end or escape. One man who held the key – and dared to use it, to stop a war that threatened the destruction of all life in the universe.
One man who made that threat, annihilation incarnate.
Flanked by a pair of armed ceremonial guards, Lord President Rassilon, back from the dead, swept majestically through the doorway called the Whispering Eye and into the inner sanctum behind the Council Chamber holding the governing body – what remained of it, anyway – of the Time Lords of Gallifrey. Furious beyond reason at how his Ultimate Sanction had been thwarted by one single man, after it had been nearly unanimously approved by the entire Council (and the two who had voted against it would be forever shamed, he would see to it), he was single-mindedly determined to find the way out.
"Where is he?" he growled at the seven unfortunate souls gathered around the ornate, scalloped table.
Lady Timona swallowed nervously. "My Lord, he has escaped. But he still has The Moment – and by all indications, he will use it. We have lost." He whirled on her, scowling fiercely enough to freeze a volcano. She swallowed again, but went on, forced beyond endurance by her own fear. "Perhaps it is best. This war has been so utterly destructive. It must end, before all creation is warped and destroyed."
"Never!" Rassilon snapped. "I will never be defeated, especially by one such as the Doctor! I will never die! But if that is your wish, so be it!" He raised his left hand, covered with a heavy, studded metal glove, and aimed his fist at Lady Timona. She screamed as a whip of red Vortex energy struck her, slicing through her cells, ripping her atoms apart. The scream faded into the ether along with the glowing remains of her particles, and the other six remaining at the table shifted nervously, shocked and cowed.
Rassilon sat heavily in his massive wooden chair, seething. No one dared speak for several long moments, then Lord Sasero rose shakily to his feet. "My Lord, there is a possibility. The prophecies of the Sorceress," and he gestured to the figure at the other end of the table, an impossibly ancient crone whose wild, scraggly hair and nails matched the madness in her eyes, "speak of a second entity, in balance to the one who threatens Gallifrey, an eternal enemy."
"The Master," Rassilon named him. "But he has disappeared, out of all knowing. How could we reach him?"
Sasero pulled out an old scroll. "I believe we may have already done so. The records speak of a signal somehow implanted into the Master's mind when he faced his initiation, though the record-keeper did not know its genesis. A four-part beat."
The President stared at the old Councilor, confused. Then, from down the table, came a curious rapping – the Sorceress was tapping on the table with a long, torn, dirty fingernail. Tap-tap-tap-tap, tap-tap-tap-tap. Four taps, a pause, four more, over and over.
A slow, wolfish smile spread across Rassilon's face. "The beats of a Time Lord's twin hearts." He turned back to Sasero. "Send the signal. Implant it in the boy's mind. Use the Eye of Harmony; it will reach back to that day and bury it deep within, too deep to be rooted out."
As the Time Lord scurried away, Rassilon leaned back in his chair, his gaze turned inward, searching for the way out of the trap set by the renegade Time Lord, the man he hated above all others. The damned, traitorous, betraying Doctor.
^..^
The man in question was staring, more shocked than he had ever been in his life, rocked into utter silence (astonishingly enough in itself, with his current gob) by the sight and knowledge of over six billion copies of the Master, replacing (nearly) every individual on Earth. He retained enough wit to hope that his shield had indeed protected all his and Mike's family back in the rooms above the book store, and that they would remain safe and undiscovered until he could figure out the solution. If there was one. At the moment, he was drawing a complete blank.
The Masters – all of them – were still laughing at him, even as they went about checking in with their counterparts all over the world, gathering the reins of human power. Millions of soldiers standing by in every country. Missiles and atomic weapons in the hands of NATO forces and elsewhere. Government heads and multi-national corporation CEOs. Everyone. They hadn't bothered to lock the Doctor up, or even bind his hands; they knew he was completely helpless. They continued to simply ignore Mike, locked safely away in the isolation booth. The Doctor had no way of freeing him, either, not at the moment.
Checks complete, the original Master closed his eyes, leaning his head back and breathing deeply, considering his next move. As always, whenever he stood still for a moment, the continuous drumbeats asserted themselves, drowning out all else, and he found himself tapping his fingers to the rhythm, one-two-three-four, one-two-three-four. "The drums, the drums, the never-ending drums," he whispered.
He opened his eyes, turning to stare at the Doctor a few feet away. "Can't you hear them? Can't you feel them? The drums, the drums, the never-ending drums!" He walked over to face him squarely. "Can't you?"
The Doctor shook his head, sadly. "They're not real!"
"But they are!" he cried in frustration. He reached out with both hands, placing them on either side of the Doctor's head, and brought his own head closer. "Listen, listen, listen!" And he leaned in, touching foreheads.
The Doctor gave a huge gasp, jerking himself backwards and out of the Master's hands, falling to the floor in a tumble, eyes bulging. "I heard them. Oh. My. Stars. I heard them," he whispered.
"It's real. It's real. IT'S REEEEEAL!" Incandescent with triumph, the Master shot his arms up, the electric energy burning him through from the inside shooting out of his hands and burning twin holes in the roof, up into the sky. Laughing insanely once again, he whirled and danced in unholy, relieved glee, his skull crackling flames through his flickering skin again and again. The other Masters in the room grinned and laughed along with him, and he turned to them. "You hear it as well?"
"Of course we do! We're you! And it's real!" they replied almost in unison.
The Master gasped as it hit him. "It's not just a noise. It's a signal. To what? To who? To me? From me? What is it, what is it, what is it?" He stopped, gasping again, his astonished, gleeful grin returning. "Six billion... Oh, that's it. That's why." He whirled on the Masters standing by the comms. "Send out a message to every last one of me. Drop what you're doing and stand by. Whatever this signal is, whoever it's for, we're sending it out. All of us. Together."
Ignoring the Doctor's protests, as always, he stepped back to the center of the gate and turned to face the room. When his duplicates at comms relayed the worldwide ready, he gave the order: "Close your eyes and concentrate. Send this signal out."
And six billion-plus minds took hold of the drumbeats, amplifying and synchronizing them, and as one sent them into the Void.
^..^
Lord Sasero rushed back into the chamber. "My Lord! The signal was implanted as you ordered, and we are receiving something back! The same four beats, coming from across time, across the universe."
"From where? Where has the Master gotten to?" demanded Rassilon.
"From Earth, my Lord."
"Earth? The Doctor's favorite planet. How fitting, that his pets will be witness to the End of All Things." He raised his gloved hand again and gestured with it, causing a ghostly, holographic the planet in question to appear, hovering above the table. The seated Councilors drew back, knowing that it wasn't merely a representation, but a linked, real-time image of the planet itself, complete with weather and all its incredible, varied life.
"The signal isn't strong enough to lock onto, though, my Lord. It's only an idea. We need something physical to help us break out of the Time Lock."
"Something physical?" Rassilon considered, puzzled.
A whisper reached him from the other end of the table. The Sorceress, deep in her holy madness, was muttering, "... so small and shining, shining bright and cold, the tiny tiny star, falling, falling burning..."
The wolfish smile returned to Rassilon's face. He held his non-gloved hand behind him without looking, and the guard on that side reverently placed his tall, bejeweled staff within it. Rassilon brought it around before him, scooting the base to one side to reach the top. There, nestled within its platinum setting, was a huge, brilliant, shining diamond, glittering its own light deep within. "Something small, so small and shining, that can follow the link." He pried the diamond from the staff, stood, and hurled it towards the linked image of Earth. As it neared the image, it flared out and disappeared.
^..^
One of the Master's clones stopped dead. "Do you hear that?" A high, white vibration was burning through the sky above.
The Master raced to the wide french doors, in time to watch a meteor streak through the night, falling towards the woods a few miles off. "It's there! Find it! FIND IT!"
^..^
Rassilon swept into the large Council Chamber, striding up to the podium to address the Lords of Time. The other inner council members lined up behind him, his guards at the wings, and the two disgraced Lords were forced to kneel, faces hidden by their hands as the symbol of their ultimate humiliation, on either side of the raging President.
"My Lords! Victory is at hand! We are returning to the universe outside the lock, and we will be victorious! This is our finest hour! The Ultimate Sanction! To Victory! To Gallifrey! To the end of time itself!"