The reaction was immediate. The massive room rang with shouts of confusion, anger, and even startled laughter. The Council members alternated between faint amusement and righteous indignation, while Rassilon stood frozen, his face a fetching mix of rage and disbelief. Clara, meanwhile, was trying to find a grammatically correct way to express having done a future event.
The Doctor blinked, ever innocent. "Did I say something?"
"You did do it… just… not yet." Rassilon spat out each word individually, like even saying the phrase left a foul taste in his mouth.
"Oh, come on. Something's wrong with time. Surely you can feel it." He looked around at the other Council members, appealing to each in turn. "It started just a few hours ago. The planet of the Possibilities is back in the sky. In my timeline, it was destroyed centuries ago."
Along with Gallifrey, Clara added silently. She doubted the Time Lords would be very motivated to fix time if they knew it would wipe them from existence.
"Something happened," the Doctor persisted, seeking out the few even mildly supportive faces, "something that was never supposed to happen. Something big, big enough to alter the timeline of the universe."
"You cannot be serious, Doctor," Rassilon scoffed.
"It itches, doesn't it?" he asked, pressing in. "Just underneath your skin, just in the back of your mind. A tiny little buzz that makes you want to hide under the nearest rock. Even safe in your little bubble here, you must have felt it!"
"What do you think it is?" a Council member asked. Rassilon glared at him, and he backed down almost immediately.
"You said something was stolen. The Moment. When?"
The man looked nervously at Rassilon before answering. "Earlier today. Hours ago, that's all."
With a triumphant nod, the Doctor turned to his companion. "Clara."
"I believe that's what we in literature would call an inciting incident." Her mind was racing through the implications. "Okay. So you used the Moment to save Gallifrey in the height of the Time War. And that stopped the war."
"But what if I didn't?" he asked, his rising excitement matching hers. "What if I couldn't, because someone else had gotten there first? We're talking paradoxes for any time traveler… The effects would be unknowable."
"And if you didn't use it to save Gallifrey, then the Time War is still going on!"
"Which it is," the Doctor confirmed, grimacing at the memories of the past few hours. "So if I didn't take it… who did? And what are they doing with it?"
"Sorry…" The Council member who had intervened before held up a hand. "But how is this relevant?"
"Partisan, you are out of line!" Rassilon barked. "This man is a suspect and a fugitive, and-"
The Doctor whirled on him, frustrated with his bound arms - no dramatic gesturing. "The timeline of the universe has been altered in the most massive way possible, and the fabric of time is rebelling. An entire causal nexus ruptured. A literal wrinkle in time," he explained with a quick wink for Clara. "We've got enough Time Vortex in our DNA to feel it." He stared around the circle, raising his voice to address the entire assembly. "Or did you have a better explanation?"
Silence rang through the room, chasing his echoes. A silence just long enough to tip the scales: Rassilon was losing control.
"This is mere speculation," he sneered, drawing attention back to himself. A mob was a fickle thing, but he knew he had the advantage. "Where is your proof?"
"Where is yours?" the Doctor countered immediately. "Look. I'm here willingly, aren't I? You called me and I came. If I had something to hide, I would be on the other side of the galaxy right now."
Clara hid a smile. He wasn't kidding - the Doctor's entire life was spent running from his past. Only the seriousness of the situation would entice him back.
"Bring it to a vote, then," the Doctor challenged, staring Rassilon in the eye. "Debate won't get anywhere if one side refuses to listen."
Rassilon stared coldly back, and for a moment, Clara thought he would refuse. The pressure intensified, hundreds of Time Lord eyes centering in on the platform, waiting for a judgement. Clara sensed from the Doctor's tone that a vote was standard protocol. Rassilon was trapped, and he knew it.
"A vote, then," the Lord President said tightly, turning away, robes swirling behind. "A vote to determine the Doctor's guilt and complicity in the theft of the Moment. A vote to determine the truth of his preposterous claim. Innocent or guilty."
Clara and the Doctor were forced back to their knees in the middle of the circle to await judgement. There was a brief time for consideration, and then the Lord President looked to each Council member in turn. The votes began to ring out.
"Guilty."
"Guilty."
"Innocent."
One man shook his head, remaining silent. "He abstained," the Doctor whispered to Clara. "He's not convinced either way. Good for us - that means there's doubt."
"Innocent would be better," Clara replied, watching each member's face closely. The Doctor nodded ruefully, falling silent as the next member spoke.
"Guilty."
"Innocent."
"Guilty," Rassilon spat, tone bitterly disappointed. Clara glanced at the Doctor, confused.
"Gallifreyan law requires a majority of five to act," the Doctor explained, relaxing slightly. "They haven't got enough to do anything, and he knows it."
"Oh. Well, that's good, isn't it?" she asked brightly. The Doctor shrugged.
"They can still hold us for as long as they need to come to a decision. And you can bet that'll be a while." He glared at Rassilon. "He still wins."
"No decision has been reached," one member announced. "The matter must be investigated more closely."
"Don't you get it?" the Doctor roared, surging to his feet. "There's no time! Time is running out in the most literal way possible. We can't wait for your bureaucratic red tape!"
Rassilon bore down on him, confidence regained. "You will be silent," he spat. "This is no longer of your concern. The High Council will… make inquiries and notify you as necessary." He gave them one last disdainful glare, then looked at the guards. "Take them away."
"Wait."
Rassilon froze, suddenly stiff. The voice had come from behind him, and neither Clara nor the Doctor could see who had spoken. The Doctor, however, seemed to recognize the voice. He and the Lord President both looked nervous, but with new respect.
"I recognize you," he called formally, stepping forward. "You may speak."
"The Wanderer, the Missing, the Lost Child of Gallifrey. I would speak with him." The voice was old and slightly unhinged. Rassilon stepped aside with a nod, revealing the speaker.
"The Visionary is an oracle of the highest order," he hissed, mostly for Clara's benefit. "Do not disrespect her." He sounded as though he was reminding himself.
She was old, yes, and definitely looked more than senile. Her red robes seemed to drown her, with only two shriveled hands and a wrinkled face to show the being as living. Her hair was wispy and hung in fragile strands in all directions, falling over her face and partially obscuring the strange symbols inked onto her skin. Two guards flanked her, although whether they were there to protect her or to control her was impossible to tell.
"Doctor," she rasped, lingering over the name. "Gone, back, gone, back, returned. Why?"
"I need help," the Doctor called. "Something happened and I can't fix it."
"The universe needs help. She needs help."
"Who?" he asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.
"So alone, so abandoned, so left behind by her friends. No one left in the universe. No home no friends alone alone alone. The universe needs help. You were her friend," she added, as if the two things were unrelated.
Clara frowned. Nothing about this woman made sense, and the syntax was starting to hurt her head.
"Who's friend?" the Doctor asked again, frustration rising. "I can help if you just tell me who!"
But the Visionary ignored his request, addressing Rassilon instead. "Time is falling," she announced. "Falling breaking shattering melting slipping away. It is his fault." She pointed one long nail at the kneeling Doctor.
"So he did steal it!" Rassilon was in triumph.
The Visionary shook her head, wisps of hair flying. "No."
"But it's my fault," the Doctor confirmed, brow furrowed, thinking hard.
"Make amends. Find the lost. Reunite. Find the lost. Find the lost. Find the lost…" She kept repeating the phrase over and over until Rassilon raised a hand, signaling the two guards to grab her arms and drag her out of the hall.
"Enough madness," he said derisively. "Lock them up. If you-"
"My Lord President, the Visionary may have a point." One Council member stepped forward, not flinching under Rassilon's furious glare. Clara was interested to see that she was the one abstention.
"That… creature has as many points as a circle," Rassilon spat. A shocked hush fell over the crowd, but the woman was undaunted.
"Infinitely many, then?" she inquired archly. Then, before he could respond, "Find the lost. Set the Doctor to finding the missing Moment. If he is guilty, as you believe, he may save face and return it immediately. If he is innocent, he will see the urgency of keeping such a weapon out of the wrong hands." She eyed the Doctor coolly. "Remember, he is a war hero. Imprisoning him may prove… damaging… for our administration."
Rassilon whirled on her. "Is that a threat?" he hissed.
"Merely a prudent observation," she answered calmly.
Clara glanced at the Doctor, raising one eyebrow a hair. Bit paranoid, isn't he?
"It's a good plan," another Council member said, and several more added their agreement, sounding relieved to have a course of action. Rassilon, furious but beaten, acquiesced.
"Very well, Doctor. Find the Moment. Return it immediately. Fail, and bring the entire armies of Gallifrey down upon your head." His smile was ice. "Best of luck."
A.N: Hey, all. We having fun on Gallifrey yet? I'm really enjoying playing with this world, and I'm glad you all are liking it. You all remember the Visionary, right? Highly underrated character. I really do like building up brief characters whenever I can. Like the Moment, for example... oh, I'm excited. Let's do this. I'm glad you're all with me.
-Forever the Optimist
P.S: In answer to an astute reader's point (looking at you, supercode): You're right, Clara shouldn't recognize normal TARDISes - except the Doctor just pointed them out to her as they were coming into the planet. Good job keeping me honest, though!