"A Whole New World"
Chapter 10
"Gun!"
The very young-looking usher deftly separated the Doctor and Green from the rest of the group, leading them to stand at the very front of the section reserved for the Prydonians, giving them an unobstructed view of the proceedings. Green noticed everyone staring at him, and felt distinctly uncomfortable.
"Detective Green," Chancellor Flavia said, bearing down on him with an amused expression. "How… interesting to see you here among us today."
"Yeah, likewise," he told her, sounding slightly baffled to find himself included in what was obviously very rarified company, while the others in the Doctor's party – including his "paramour" and his daughter – had been banished to the Panopticon's equivalent of social Siberia. "That guy – " he pointed at Markas " – told me to stand here in this section, so I'm standing here in this section." Her eyebrows went up.
"Did he? Well, in that case you must come and stand up here with us," she said, taking his arm and moving him even farther forward to stand between herself and the Doctor. Nikki stood on the Chancellor's other side, steadfastly resisting the attempts of several Time Lords to engage her in conversation. Green nudged the Doctor to get his attention.
"When do you think they'll start?" he asked.
"I've no idea," the Doctor replied with a shrug. "I wonder what time it is." Green automatically looked at his watch and gave the Doctor the time… New York local time, that is. "You make a better Time Lord than I do, Detective Green," the Doctor told him with a laugh.
Green began to reply but was stopped when something began to happen on the dais in front of them. Several Time Lords and Ladies in Prydonian robes filed into the room, followed by Zeta and Romana. An immediate hush fell over the huge floor of the Panopticon, and the ceremony began.
Green thought he would die of boredom. He had listened to boring speech after boring speech. He had listened to ceremonial gongs being rung. He had watched various important Time Lord relics get shuffled about. And like everyone else present, he had watched it all in silence; the only sounds in the room came from the people on the dais in the front. He was deeply involved in his favorite daydream, the one where he hits it big in Atlantic City. He had reached the part where he was signing the papers to purchase his new Jaguar when the shout broke his reverie.
"Gun!" Munch's voice shouted into the relative quiet of the Panopticon hall. "Gun! Gun, left side of dais!" Green scanned the dais, absently pulling off his headdress and letting it fall to the floor. He spotted the shooter, an elderly Time Lord whose hands shook as he pointed his staser at the Lady President's head. Green acted without thinking.
"Police! Freeze!" he shouted, pushing past Flavia and the Doctor, drawing his gun as he ran. "Drop your weapon!"
"Police! Let us through!" Briscoe and Munch's voices could be heard over the sudden surprised murmur of the crowd. Green had reached the dais, where the elderly assailant showed no sign of dropping his staser. Green fired two quick shots at him, not really surprised when they missed and embedded themselves in the wall behind the staser-toting Time Lord. A souvenir from Earth for you complacent bastards! Green thought wildly. The elderly Time Lord's hand suddenly steadied, and Green knew he'd drawn a bead on his target. In desperation, he launched himself at Romana, snagging Zeta's arm as well and dragging both Gallifreyans to the floor. Nikki screamed. The staser beam meant for the Lady President hit the detective instead, and Green knew no more.
"Son of a bitch!" Briscoe yelled. The shooter turned, aiming at the Chancellor. Briscoe shoved his way through the crowd, reaching Flavia in time to knock her unceremoniously to the floor, falling on top of her in a heap of jumbled arms, legs, and scarlet robes. The shooter swung the staser around to point at the Doctor. Munch fired his gun, and the would-be assassin's shooting hand exploded in a spray of crimson. He screamed, falling to his knees. Almost immediately, Munch was there, kicking the weapon out of his reach and dragging him to his feet, twisting his good hand behind his back.
"What the hell kind of show are you people running here?" Munch yelled at one of the stunned Chancellery guards. The Doctor hurried forward, pulling off his headdress and hiking up his long robes as he ran, with Briscoe following close behind.
"Ah, Ed," Briscoe said, reaching his partner's side just after the Doctor and watching as the Time Lord rolled the younger man's motionless body over to lie on its back. Green's deep brown eyes were open and staring at the ceiling. "Nisht do gedachet," Briscoe said sadly. Romana and Zeta had climbed to their knees, somewhat hampered by the long robes they wore. Nikki ran towards the dais, her big black hat falling off her head to release her dark wavy hair. She took off her sunglasses and shoved them into her coat pocket.
"Are you OK?" she asked Zeta, physically hauling him to his feet. The new Dean of the Prydonian Academy nodded, and with a sigh of resignation allowed himself to be embraced by his very relieved "human paramour" in front of thousands of witnesses. The Chancellery Guards had surged forward and were taking the would-be assassin into custody, cringing all the while under the full force of an acerbic Munch Tongue Lashing. Briscoe was still staring down at his motionless partner in disbelief.
"He's going to be fine, Detective Briscoe," the Doctor said, patting the older detective's arm. "He's just stunned." On cue, Green groaned and blinked, bringing a hand to his forehead.
"Hey Doctor," he moaned. "Did you get the license number of the truck?"
"What truck?" the Time Lord asked, puzzled.
"The one that hit me!"
"I think Munch got his number," Briscoe told his partner, watching as the elderly Time Lord was led away by a compliment of chastened Chancellery Guards with Munch following close behind, berating them every step of the way.
A very angry Lady President Romana paced around her office, her arms folded across her chest. Before her stood her soon-to-be ex-Castellan, along with the Doctor, Briscoe and Munch. Flavia stood behind Romana, looking just as angry as the Lady President. Zeta sat in a chair off to one side of the room, with Nikki on his lap, her faux-furred arms around his neck; if he was uncomfortable with his present situation, he gave no indication of it. The Time Lords had all shed their ceremonial headdresses and helmets, and the Doctor had gone further, removing his long scarlet robes and handing them to Tegan before following the others into the President's office.
"It appears you've made a bit of a mess of things, Castellan," Romana said quietly.
"These humans – " the Castellan began.
"Saw the staser before any of your men did," Flavia finished quietly. The Castellan looked outraged.
"If you would allow me to finish!" he snapped angrily. "These humans – especially this human – " he said, pointing at Nikki. "Distracted my guards from their duties!"
"Where we come from, fifty naked dancing girls shouldn't be able to distract a cop on guard duty," Briscoe said quietly. Munch muttered something under his breath about "being too optimistic" that Briscoe chose to ignore.
"You're quite fortunate that there were no casualties today, Castellan," Romana said quietly. "Things could have ended so much worse for everyone involved."
"I don't think you're going to like the way things are going to end for you today, Castellan," Flavia added. "As of now, you are officially relieved of your duties by unanimous mandate of the High Council." Lips pursed, the Castellan nodded.
"As you wish," he said coldly. "I can think of no suitable replacement for my position – "
"Are you kidding?" Munch suddenly exploded. "A wilted houseplant could arrange better security than you! I wouldn't trust your guards to work security at a Little League game!"
"How dare you – " the Castellan began.
"This man grows tiresome," Romana said offhandedly. She motioned at a nearby guard. "Please remind him of the way out." The guard fell all over himself to remove the ex-Castellan. There was a moment of silence. "Thank Heavens that's over with," Romana sighed, undoing the clasps on her shimmering white Presidential robes.
"I don't understand it," Zeta said. "I've known Lord Beta nearly all my life. Why would he try to kill you?"
"Our old friend the Rani got to him," Romana said.
"Don't tell me," the Doctor said. "She used psychotropic drugs to force him to do her bidding."
"Exactly," Romana agreed. "She got to him just before she left Gallifrey."
"He told you this?" Zeta asked.
"He told the medics. They were trying to figure out what was wrong with him when he suddenly regenerated. Evidently it was the only way for his brain to throw off the control of the drugs. Needless to say, he feels terrible about everything."
"Speaking of medics, your guys are sure Ed's going to be OK, right?" Briscoe suddenly asked. "He was shot at point blank range."
"With a weapon set to disrupt a Time Lord's regeneration cycle," the Doctor reminded him. "Humans don't regenerate. It did knock him for a bit of a loop though, didn't it?"
"Yes, but he should be recovered in time for Lord Zeta's party tonight," Romana said with a smile. "Speaking of which, I think we could all use some time to prepare for tonight's festivities." The others recognized their cue and began to leave. "Detective Munch?" Romana called. "May I have a word with you before you go?"
The Doctor stood in front of the full-length mirror critically surveying his reflection. He wore black trousers, a white shirt open at the throat, and a black velvet frock coat.
"Look at you!" the voice of his second self said inside his head. "You look nearly as silly as the one after me!"
"I happen to think he looks quite nice!" Three said immediately.
"You would!"
"Scarecrow!"
"Fancy pants!"
"I disagree with the little fellow," One suddenly said. "Young people today simply don't know how to dress. It's nice to see a man who knows – "
"Oh come on!" Four scoffed impatiently. "That look went out centuries ago!"
"Hmph. That look was never 'in' in the first place!" Seven corrected.
"If I remember correctly," the Doctor interrupted, "None of you are exactly in any position to criticize my dress sense!"
"Well, I never!" One huffed.
"Oh, you certainly did!" the Doctor shot back. "Many, many times! There's four entire city blocks in Brooklyn that I can never visit again without being chased by a mob of angry fathers armed with baseball bats!"
"Yes, well…" One said, sounding embarrassed.
"Don't listen to any of them," Five suddenly put in. "That's exactly what I wore when I took Tegan out in Paris."
"Yes, I remember."
"And she seemed to like it!" Seven added.
"She did, didn't she?" the Doctor recalled with a grin.
"Memories light the corners of my mind," Six warbled, very badly off key. "Misty watercolor mem-o-reeeees – "
"Shut up!" the other seven Doctors all said simultaneously.
" – of the way we were!" Six finished triumphantly.
"You're no Streisand!" Three snapped impatiently.
"Thank God!" Four put in irreverently. "Tegan probably wouldn't go for that!" The Doctor gave his reflection one final once-over, straightened his collar, and smiled with satisfaction.
"All right, you lot, that's enough for one night," the Doctor said with a sigh. "I'm finally off."
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do, young man!" One advised.
"Yes, well, that leaves nearly anything open, doesn't it?" Five asked acidly. The Doctor laughed.
"You smell good tonight!" Tegan told him as she took his arm. "You've used that nice soap again, haven't you?"
"Are we all ready to go?" Angelina asked, walking into the console room. She was dressed in a pink blouse and white jeans, and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. "That dress we bought you in Nova Scotia looks very nice on!" she told Tegan.
"Thanks." Briscoe and Munch walked into the console room, still dressed in their black suits.
"I have rooms that are absolutely packed with clothing," the Doctor told them. "You're more than welcome to pick something else to wear if you like."
"I've been in those rooms, remember?" Briscoe asked. "I don't think I'd make a very good impression in a silver spandex jumpsuit!" Angelina giggled, imagining it.
"There are many different kinds of clothes in there – " the Doctor began.
"Where did you get all those clothes?" Tegan suddenly asked. He shrugged.
"I've no idea, really. Sometimes I think the old girl manufactures them and spits them out in various rooms just to amuse herself!" Green walked into the console room. "Ah, there you are. How are you feeling?"
"Just fine," Green said brightly. They saw that he had paid a visit to one of the wardrobe rooms, and was now wearing a pair of black leather pants and a black silk shirt open at the throat.
"You look like an escapee from Soul Train," Briscoe told his partner. "All you need is a couple of gold chains around your neck!"
"It beats looking like I belong on Six Feet Under," Green retorted with a shrug.
"I see you decided against wearing the pink sequined tutu," Munch observed wryly.
"Yeah, I figured Lennie'd want to wear it."
"I don't have the legs for it," Briscoe cracked.
"If everyone's done with the fashion commentary…" the Doctor said in a prodding tone.
"Let's go!" Green agreed. "We'll show those Time Lords how to par-tay!"
CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 11, "A Whole New World"
