Yours is No Disgrace

Chapter Four

As we walk into tomorrow,
Turning away from the path we know

The great Panopticon hall was much darker and quieter than it had been a scant few hours ago, Sarah thought to herself as she watched the Doctor's hands take up the bulky-looking staser rifle to show it to Spandrell. She wasn't really listening to what he was saying...something about the sights being fixed. She was simply watching his movements, letting to deep, soothing rhythm of his voice calm her. There was something wonderful about his voice. Sarah had heard him use it as a tool to soothe, to command, to remonstrate...his voice had more authority and power than any other she had ever heard...but it never failed to make her feel safe. His voice had said everything would be all right...and she believed it.
Behind her, two men were busy searching for a scorch mark on the pristine green material of the walls, something that the Doctor said would prove he hadn't fired that shot. Spandrell was speaking with that pompous little newsreader, Runcible - practically ordering him to go up to the gallery and bring down the video recordings of the assassination.
"What's all this going to accomplish, Doctor?" Sarah asked uncertainly.
"Well, if Runcible can get a copy of those disks, hopefully one of them will show a shot of whoever did kill the President."
Sarah was about to reply when a scream echoed out across the hall...it came from the gallery.
"Runcible!" The Doctor cried, sprinting towards the stairs and taking them two at a time. Sarah ran after him as fast as she could, adrenaline racing through her bloodstream. She stopped dead when she reached the top of the stairs and found the Doctor kneeling over Runcible's inert body. Sarah felt slightly sick.
"Is he...?"
"No," the Doctor replied, "He's fainted...look there." He said, gesturing towards the camera, Sarah looked, and to her horror, so a withered, miniaturised figure stuffed in the top of the camera cylinder, the expression on its tiny face was one of abject terror.
"Ugh..." Sarah moaned, "That's horrible."
"Who would do something like that?" Spandrell asked from behind Sarah. Sarah jumped slightly...she hadn't heard him approach. The Doctor stood up and looked with sombre eyes on the tiny body in the camera.
"That's the result of tissue compression." He said grimly, "It's the trademark of a villain known as the Master."
"The Master.." Sarah whispered to herself, remembering the name from stories her friends at UNIT had told her...and she felt fear begin to prickle at the back of her neck.
"Who is this 'Master'?" Spandrell asked, the Doctor looked away from him, his eyes resting on Sarah for a moment. Sarah could read some strange sort of struggle in them...almost as if he were fighting with himself.
"He's a fiend who glories in chaos and destruction." The Doctor said finally, "A renegade Time Lord."
Spandrell gasped, but there was a strange shock of recognition in his eyes...as though the Doctor's words had sparked a memory in him.
"If the Master is here on Gallifrey it explains why I was brought here," The Doctor was saying, "He must have set all this up for the final challenge...this is just a sort of greetings card."
Runcible began to stir, his eyes fluttering open.
"Are you all right, Runcible?" Spandrell asked.
"Y...Yes Castellan." Runcible said, his voice trembling a little, he shuddered violently, "It was horrible..."
Sarah knelt beside the troubled newsreader and patted him awkwardly on the shoulder, "We know, but you must try to be brave..."
"Did you manage to retrieve anything, Runcible?" Spandrell interrupted her.
"Just the last data track, Castellan." Runcible replied, slowly getting to his feet.
"Well, don't just stand there, man. Get it to the records section."
"Yes...yes Castellan." Runcible said and hurried down the stairs as quickly as his somewhat unsteady legs would take him. Sarah rounded on Spandrell irritably.
"That was cruel - he's just had a very nasty shock." Sarah said forcefully.
"It's no excuse for lounging around. I will not tolerate all this chaos here on Gallifrey." Spandrell turned to the Doctor, who was stood staring at nothing, lost in thought, "And I am warning you, Doctor, do not try and settle this private feud of yours here on Gallifrey."
The Doctor's head snapped up, his eyes blazing.
"Like it or not, Spandrell, it cannot be avoided. Gallifrey is involved...and I fear it may never be the same again."
Before Spandrell could even open his mouth to reply, there was a cry of pain from the floor below. They all moved to peer down only to see Runcible stagger from the shadows and collapse...a knife plunged solidly into his back. Sarah drew back in horror.
"This is outrageous Doctor! First a guard, then the President and a camera technician...and now Runcible!" Spandrell ranted furiously.
"Flea bites, Spandrell," The Doctor said, "Mere flea bites." His voice was quiet, but held an undeniable edge...an assurance of danger yet to come.
"Besides," Sarah added, "If even half what I've heard of the Master is true, things will get a lot worse before the end."
A shadow of a grin crossed the Doctor's face, "It might even rouse some of the Time Lords from their lethargy," He said, an echo of humour in his voice, "They live for centuries and have about as much sense of adventure as dormice."
"I don't find this very amusing, Doctor." Spandrell almost growled.
"Neither do I, Spandrell," The Doctor assured him, his eyes bleak, "Neither do I."

Holding the future with our hands,
We carry the weight of the world we go

Coordinator Engin was a small man with a bent back and a surprisingly kindly face. Sarah smiled as soon as she saw him...he looked like somebody's grandfather.
"Oh, hello again Castellan," Engin greeted the still fuming Spandrell.
"Engin," Spandrell nodded curtly, "This is the Doctor and his companion Miss Smith."
Engin greeted them with as much warmth as they had received since arriving on Gallifrey. Sarah found herself liking him already.
"What can I do for you all?" Engin asked.
"We'd like you o do another scan of the records," Spandrell said shortly, "This time searching for a Time Lord who calls himself 'The Master'."
"Of course, Castellan." Engin said, shuffling over to a console and fiddling with the controls. After a few moments he turned back to them, a confused expression on his kindly old face. "I'm afraid I can't find any Time Lord who goes by that title. Are you sure that is the name he goes by?"
The Doctor sank down onto one of the chairs, "I'm not surprised it isn't there. Anyone with a little criminal know-how can erase a D-E."
Engin looked at the Doctor in disbelief, "Doctor, you would need far more than simple criminal know-how...advanced exitonic circuitry of this kind..."
"Is child's play to the Master," He waved a hand at the computer banks around him dismissively, "There are planets out there where this kind of equipment would be considered prehistoric."
Engin drew himself up, wounded and irritated by the Doctor's dismissal of his life's work and determined to defend his beloved records section, but Spandrell got there first.
"What's the Master like with mathematics?" the Castellan asked hurriedly.
"What? Oh, he's brilliant, absolutely brilliant...almost up to my standard." The Doctor said almost absently, his gaze drifting over to his companion. Sarah grinned at him from where she had been stood examining a peculiar piece of equipment; it looked like a sort of medical bench with a sophisticated piece of computer equipment at one end, complete with some sort of electrodes that extended from an oddly shaped frame.
"What's this?" She asked, partly out of curiosity and partly to deflect the increasing tension in the air.
"One of our prehistoric pieces of equipment, Miss Smith." Engin said, throwing an acid glare at the Doctor. "It's the A.P.C section."
"A.P.C?" Sarah questioned.
"Advanced Panatropic Computations." The Doctor supplied with a quick grin at Engin, "In effect, brain cells!"
Engin gave the Doctor a reproving eye for interrupting, "Trillions of electro-chemical cells in a continuous matrix. At the moment of death an electrical scan is made of their brain pattern and these millions of impulses are immediately transferred to the APC Net. Its function is to monitor life in the Capitol. All this combined knowledge and experience is used to predict future developments." Engin finished.
"Predict future events?" Sarah said, almost amused, "Sounds like a fancy name for a crystal ball to me..."
"What about the assassination of the President?" The Doctor interrupted her.
"For some reason, that event was not foreseen."
"Oh yes it was!" The Doctor said indignantly, "It was foreseen by me!" The Doctor started to pace, "Very clever, he's really surpassed himself this time..." He muttered. Sarah sighed, she was used to these displays from the Doctor, after all. But she still found some amusement in the confused expressions on Spandrell and Engin's faces.
"What are you talking about Doctor?" Spandrell demanded impatiently.
"Don't you see? We Time Lords are telepathic. This..." He waved a hand at the APC console, "is simply a brain storage system. The Master must have intercepted its forecast that the President was to be assassinated and beamed it into my mind." He looked directly at Spandrell, "You said that my D-E had been scanned?"
"Yes. There was no mica dust."
The Doctor grunted, "He'd need a biography print to beam a message accurately over that distance."
Spandrell remained unconvinced, "Why would he want you to know his plan?"
The Doctor shrugged, "I told you, he has old scores to settle."
Engin was shaking his head, "Even if what you say is true, how can one intercept thought patterns within the Matrix itself."
"Simple; by going in there and joining it. After all that's all a brain is - electrical impulses." The Doctor paused and mused to himself, "If I went in there myself I could track him down and destroy him..."
"I can't allow that, Doctor." Engin said firmly, "If you tried it the psychosomatic feedback could very well kill you."
Sarah gripped the Doctor's hand in sudden anxiety, fear in her eyes.
"It's better than being vaporised." The Doctor replied, looking down at Sarah a silent question written on his face. Sarah bit her lip and gave him a hesitant nod, knowing that there was very little choice left to them. "This is my only chance to prove my innocence."
Engin exchanged a look with Spandrell, trying to determine if the younger Time Lord had also noticed the Doctor's silent communication with his companion...but if Spandrell had noticed, he gave no sign.
"Let him try, Engin." Spandrell said, "He has very little else left to lose."
Engin sighed, "Very well. If you will lie down on the couch, Doctor..."
The Doctor did as he asked, laying his long frame out as Engin began applying the various electrodes to his head and body.
"Is this the procedure dying Time Lords go through?" Sarah asked, still gripping the Doctor's cool hand in hers.
"Yes," Engin said, "Though they are normally unconscious at the time...now Doctor, I will warn you that there may be some considerable pain involved..."
But with his eyes still fixed on Sarah's face, the Doctor simply told the old Time Lord to get on with it. Engin hesitated then threw the switch.
The Doctor's body arched as though he was being electrocuted and for a moment his body was bent like a bow...then he suddenly flopped back down and lay still. Sarah clutched at him, her eyes filled with fear.
"Well?" Spandrell asked. Engin inspected the dials carefully.
"Apparently it worked Castellan. Only his body remains here now, his mind is in the matrix."
Sarah reached out to touch the Doctor's face, trying to make it look like she was just casually moving a tangle of curly hair from his eyes. But that gesture proved to her that Engin wasn't completely correct - she could still feel flickers of his quicksilver presence. Sarah smiled and settled down to wait.