Chapter Sixteen

Separate Projects

The Doctor patiently answered his friend's questions, gleaning more information from him than he gave out. He stopped when it became obvious the prince was having difficulty just keeping his eyes open. "Alright, Jason, that's enough for now. You need to rest," the Time Lord said firmly. "We'll have plenty of time to talk later. You're just lucky Dr. Spencer is away. If she knew I'd indulged you this long, she'd have my head on a plate."

With a frown, Jason said, "Dr. Spencer? Evan Spencer? The computer linguist?"

Shaking his head, the Time Lord said, "His niece, Amanda. She's been your doctor while you've been here."

"His niece? Another one? He's got more relatives than I do."

"I didn't think that was possible."

The prince did not seem to hear him, his face clouding over. "That's odd. I can't place her. I know I must've had contact with her in all this time."

"Not necessarily. The entire staff's been ordered to wear gloves whenever they work on you," the Doctor informed mildly. Jason gave him a startled look and he flashed a broad smile. "Apparently, I'm not the only one who gives you a bit of a jolt."

Jason nodded understandingly. "Yes, the implants…" he sighed. "I think Curtis upped my sensitivity to ultra-hypersensitivity with these things. The sadist."

"Don't worry, you'll have ample opportunity to scan her when she gets back from her leave. Now, please, get some sleep."

The Alterran nodded and turned on his side, falling asleep almost immediately.

The Doctor had been deeply disturbed by what his friend had been able to remember, and was inwardly grateful for his Time Lord training, which allowed him to remain outwardly passive while being inwardly outraged. He went over to the desk and sat down, staring into space for several minutes, lost in thought. When at last he looked down, his attention was caught by Turlough's portfolio of drawings that were set off to one side. He paged through them, being more than a little impressed at how they literally illustrated the events of the past few weeks.

Turlough was admitted in to the room at that moment and gave a self-conscious smile when the Doctor remarked on his drawings. He hurriedly took the unfinished work from the Time Lord's hands and tucked it under the sketchpad. "That one's not right. It was supposed to be the console room, but I made the roundels too big."

Pulling out the drawing again, the Doctor said thoughtfully, "Odd, I thought it was the Zero Room. Color it pinkish-gray and you'll have a very good rendition." A sudden thought struck him and he caught his breath. "Of course, the Zero Room! Why didn't I think of it before?" Nothing could be more perfect in aiding Jason in his recovery. Why didn't I think of it sooner? Then again, the fact that the original Zero Room had been accidentally jettisoned at the time of his regeneration might have had something to do with it. This was easily rectified, however. In fact, he probably should have reconfigured another one ages ago. There just didn't seem any need.

Looking blankly at the drawing, Turlough asked, "What in the world is a Zero Room?"

"It's not a bad idea, actually," came the unhelpful reply as the Time Lord strode out the door.

Commander Tolan arrived at the isolation room only a few minutes after the Doctor had left. He dismissed the guard at the door as he entered and then informed Turlough that he had intercepted one of Amanda's designated watchdogs along the way. They had discovered the boy's absence from the Medical Center and threats were being made about locking him up if he did not return on his own.

Heaving an exasperated sigh, Turlough reluctantly returned to bed, leaving the amused Commander to watch over the sleeping Prince Jason.

After a few hours of mind numbing boredom, Turlough could stand it no longer and sneaked out of his room yet again. He returned to the isolation room to find Jason still asleep and the Doctor still absent. Commander Tolan was working diligently at a computer console that had been concealed behind the wall beside the desk. Turlough was taken aback when he saw it, having never once suspected the wall covered anything more spectacular than electrical wiring.

"A fugitive again, I see," the officer observed aridly.

Turlough chose to ignore the remark. "That's from the disk Constance showed us, isn't it?" he asked, having recognized the distorted images on the screen.

Tolan nodded. "I'm trying to get the computer to give me a listing of the people HH was last in contact with. Names, dates and so on." Shaking his head, he said, "It's having a tough time wading through it all. I had to tie into the computer at Legrand's Research Center just to have enough memory space."

"What exactly are you trying to find?"

"A link—hopefully. We found a message Legrand received warning him we were coming." Tolan paused before confiding, "It apparently came from one of the Argonauts."

Turlough was appalled. Then he remembered the Doctor's concerns at the time of the rescue, which were the very reason he had accompanied Jason to the Foundation.

"The Doctor said HH saw, or thinks he saw, Xandora Legrand. I'm not sure what her connection might be, but I'm checking into it," the officer informed.

"That's a bit of a long shot, isn't it?"

"Maybe. The thing is, if HH really does know who the spy is then his life is in very grave danger."

"Then you're going to need some help," Turlough said as he pulled up a chair. "You can clear out some space if you separate people from everything else."

It was not until the Doctor actually started work on the TARDIS' architectural configuration system that he remembered why he had put off creating another Zero Room. The intricacies involved were time consuming and extremely tedious. He was in the midst of a very difficult calibration when the entire computer system suddenly shut down. Before the appalled Time Lord could react, the scanner activated itself, the shutters opening to reveal Cardinal Wythe of the High Council.

The Doctor was less than congenial. "I hope you realize you've just ruined nearly an hour's worth of work," he snapped impatiently.

Wythe glanced at the monitor near his elbow and grimaced. "Zero technology, Doctor? How very tedious. I never would've imagined your wanting to take the time to bother with such things."

Since the only reason he was bothering at all was because of Jason, the Doctor chose not to respond directly. "On the same token I might point out that I'm surprised you even bothered contacting me at all. Normally you just drop me into the middle of a mess you don't want to deal with and expect me to clean it up for you."

Like the Doctor, the Time Lord on the screen evaded the remark. "The High Council felt its President should be apprised of—"

"Oh, so that's it," the Doctor interrupted. "Whatever it is, the answer is no. You can take care of your petty squabbling yourselves. I don't—"

"You're acquainted with the Alterran Alliance, I trust?" came the unexpected inquiry.

There was something in the tone that put the Doctor on his guard. "Vaguely. I can't quote it chapter and verse like others I won't mention."

Wythe ignored the barbed comment. "There's a…well, a situation brewing involving the Alterran Emperor."

The Doctor scowled. "The Emperor?"

"Yes, and it requires your immediate attention. He won't speak to anyone but the Lord President—meaning, unfortunately, you, Doctor."

"Oh, thank you very much," the Doctor said acidly. "And just what is this situation?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

"What! And I'm supposed to contact Emperor Quinton without knowing the first thing—" The Doctor broke off when the control console shuddered beneath his hand. He looked down and saw, to his amazement, that a Zero Room had abruptly been added to the ship's architectural configuration.

"With my compliments. Good luck, Lord President. You're going to need it," Wythe said cryptically.

The scanner went blank, leaving the Doctor staring into space. Before he could decide what he should do next, the scanner activated itself a second time. To his relief, the face on the screen was that of Emperor Quinton.

"They don't waste any time, do they, your High Council?" he observed in an amused tone.

"Not when they're trying to unload a problem," the Doctor grunted in disgust.

"Actually, they're the ones who created the problem," the monarch informed. "It seems someone decided your involvement with the Argonauts was blatant interference—"

"Don't tell me, let me guess. They were going to file formal charges against me, right?"

"Naturally, since I was the one to involve you, I couldn't allow this to happen. I contacted the High Council—sighting an obscure passage in the Alliance—and beseeched them to assist in the plight of my favorite nephew."

The Doctor could not help but laugh. "I'll bet that got their attention. They were probably appalled to learn of Jason's rather significant status."

"To say the least. I was put off a couple of days—possibly so they could hide their blunder—and then, to my amazement, I am informed that the Lord President has taken it upon himself to look into the matter personally."

"All for the sake of intergalactic harmony, of course," the Doctor said loftily. "Is that why you demanded to speak to me personally? To add legitimacy to their obvious fabrication? That's not like you."

The Emperor smiled at the Time Lord's backhanded compliment. "It was a deception actually," he replied. "What I really wanted was to know how Jason was doing."