Erkal's blade never reached its target. Instead, it was caught in the vice-like grip of Melosa's hands. Infused with the same energies as the councillor, she turned the blade aside and rose to meet her attacker's gaze. Except she had no eyes.
Stop this, she begged. Now.
The blade clattered to the floor as the librarian backed away from the creature sitting up on the slab. Swinging around so that her legs dangled over the floor, she examined her surroundings, extending her tentacles and broadcasting her thoughts.
Malthus, Tavic, stop.
The voice in Malthus' head was Melosa's, and it was enough to end his brawl and to look at the hybrid that wore his wife's body. His twisted face reflected the conflict of hearing his wife's voice whilst seeing the violation of her now-living body.
K'thyankha. It thought.
"What?" Erkal asked.
My name is K'thyankha, She replied, Malthus wanted to know. I am a hybrid. And please, it gestured towards the sergeant, give me a few moments to explain.
Letting go of Tavic, Sergeant Malthus stood up, cautiously joining Erkal while the doctor composed himself.
"That's my wife's body," he said through gritted teeth.
And it will be again.
"How?" Erkal asked.
Tavic interrupted. "I… I was trying to tell you."
K'thyankha continued. When Pengallia defeated the k'thellid, she allowed her myrmidon to be transformed into hybrids and then used regeneration to restore them to human form. The same trick has been used to keep the peace ever since.
"I don't see how that keeps the peace," said Erkal, crossing the room to check K9. The little dog's eyes were dim, but still active. "Especially if nobody told us about it."
"There were complications in the early days," said Tavic. "Fallen who knew they were about to become hybrids tended to refuse the process. We lost quite a few to ignorance, so it was decided to keep the truth secret."
Only those who possess both k'thellid and fallen biodata can tap into the power of Great K'thannid, and only when the Well of Deep Time is open. When they are close to death the k'thellid come up the mountain to devote their last years to the monastery in hybrid form. When the hybrid dies, a new cycle of regeneration is triggered, but it is the fallen personality that is dominant.
"So," said Malthus, "if I kill you, Melosa will be returned to me?"
Yes. That is correct.
"Would that be fair, Malthus?" Tavic asked. "K'thyankha has sacrificed its life so that your wife will be able to live again. And if you force the regeneration so soon you'll risk regenerative trauma."
Looking up from his examination of K9, Erkal shook his head. "I disagree. We're being infused with K'thannid's power. That means the Well of Deep Time is open. With an abundance of artron energy there's next to no such risk."
"I want Melosa back now," said Malthus. "You must return her to me."
It is alright, doctor. K'thyankha explained, If the Well is open, then the time of vigil is over. It is my duty to surrender this body to the original host.
"It is?" Erkal was surprised to hear that. He was also surprised to find that K9 was undamaged.
"Query," said K9. "Why would the k'thellid would give up control now? They do not gain from making such a sacrifice."
"K9's right," said Erkal. "Why would you be surrendering your body so easily?"
Evolution, For the k'thellid to survive beyond the homeworld we must take humanoid form. There aren't enough fallen to wage a war against the Time Lords.
Erkal whistled. "War?"
Of course. Pengallia sought revenge against the Time Lords, and so do the k'thellid.
Outside the TARDIS, the Doctor felt the weight of the carnifex power lift from his shoulders. Somehow, the link had been broken.
For now.
Deep inside his pockets, the Doctor let go of the toothpick he feared he might be forced to use again. Looking around Pengallia's tomb, he was pleased to see that nobody dared move. He liked that, and decided not to reveal that his terrible powers were in remission. With the power gone, he allowed himself to feel angry, striding purposefully towards the protector.
"You had no right," he said.
I had every right, thought the protector.
"To manipulate me? To risk the lives of every man, hybrid and k'thellid within thinking distance? It was blind luck that only one person was affected by this.
"The Doctor is right," said Gesar. "We could all have died."
We could all have died anyway. Aldus was going to use K'thannid's power against us. We have a right to defend ourselves.
"True, but your ability to manipulate time suggests you were never really in danger, were you? You have some powers of your own."
K'thannid and I are of the same ilk, Doctor. Of course I do. But my powers are… less mature.
"Less mature? They shouldn't even exist, should they?"
"What do you mean, Doctor?" Gesar asked. "Why wouldn't the protector share the powers of his predecessor?"
"K'thannid had no successor. The last of his last offspring, K'thun, was killed by Pengallia. The k'thellid may be telepathic. They may can be able to grow to your size. But none of them can manipulate time. That power was exclusive to K'thannid. He brought it with him when he first set foot in this universe."
"Are you sure about that?" The abbot was confused. How could the Doctor know such things? "K'thannid's lineage is speculative, to say the least. Can we even be sure that his origins are as you suggest?"
"Before I stepped out of that TARDIS I had a nice quiet chat with K'thannid. It may be his power, but he's not been in charge for a very long time."
You spoke with K'thannid?
"We're old friends. Of sorts. As long as this…" the Doctor gestured towards the Well of Deep Time that lay open in the centre of the chamber, "was sealed, K'thannid's power was locked away from everyone inside this world."
"Everyone except Pengallia," said Romana, stepping outside the TARDIS. Still dressed in her silver body suit and fur-lined cloak, Romana looked every inch the Lady President, flanked by Vervix, Varnax and Vulpix. Behind them, Teyamat poked her head through the TARDIS door and smiled.
"Exactly." The Doctor grinned. "When Pengallia severed his link with the k'thellid, K'thannid was no longer the directing mind responsible."
On seeing Romana and the devouring hounds, Abbot Gesar fell to his knees. With them at her side, the Well opened and K'thannid unleashed, there could now be no doubt that Pengallia had returned.
"It's alright," Gesar felt a hand on his shoulder. It was the Doctor. "You can get up. She's just the hired help."
"Hardly," Romana replied with an accusing frown. "He can't be trusted out on his own. But he is right. I'm not Pengallia, and if I ever ascend to high office I'll be doing it under my own steam. Not," she winked at the Doctor, "that such an outcome could ever be in doubt."
"So who…?"
The Doctor coughed. "I was about to explain."
"Pengallia never left," said Romana, recovering the initiative. "She was just too busy to hang around and run the planet."
"It's true," said Erkal, stepping into the chamber. He was accompanied by K9, Malthus and a beautiful woman. "She's been building an army."
"Please!" The Doctor shouted in his most commanding voice, "one explanation at a time! Does everybody know what's going on?"
"Thank you for that, Doctor," Romana said as patronisingly as possible, "but I'll take it from here."
The Doctor opened his mouth and raised a finger to object, then thought better of it.
"While the fallen and the k'thellid were rebuilding their civilisation, the Oculus was being used to build a fleet. When the time is right, Pengallia intends to lead her people back to Gallifrey, to assume their rightful place as Lords of Time. But her ships need a crew, which is why the two races need to work together. Both want revenge, and neither can conquer Gallifrey on its own."
"Excellent!" The Doctor clapped his hands together, stepping directly in front of Romana to obscure her from the abbot and his audience. "That's the plot, now can we get back to unmasking Pengallia? Perhaps you'd all like to form an orderly queue. Abbot, protector…"
There was an electronic chirrup. "Master, mistress."
The Doctor rolled his eyes. "It would appear that K9 has something to add," he stooped to whisper through gritted teeth to his robotic pet. "This had better be good."
"Good? I am in no position to assign value judgements to the data I am presenting. I merely wished to correct the mistresses assumption that there may be insufficient numbers to crew a war fleet. A large number of hybrids, whose biodata is approximately two-thirds Demosian and one third k'thellid, are being kept in hibernation in the k'thellid undercity."
"They are?" The Doctor's eyes widened, and he patted the dog appreciatively. "Good work, K9." He looked up and around the chamber before asking a question. "Does anybody have a bone?"
"So," the abbot blinked, completely failing to understand the Doctor's last remark, "where's Pengallia?"
"Oh, for goodness sake man, haven't you worked it out yet?" The Doctor said, taking him by the shoulder and turning him around to point at the protector. "It's him!"
Protector K'thellid's palanquin rose into the air as colours flashed across its skin. As it did so, its tentacles unfurled and reached forwards and down, taking a grip on the floor. The palanquin dipped as the protector's bulk shifted forwards and its large ugly mass blurred as it slid over the edge of the floating disk.
The protector's body began to shift into a new form. Tentacles began to form into legs and arms while the torso stretched and contracted in equal measure, taking on an altogether more human shape.
The protector's body stabilised into that of a woman, perched elegantly on the front edge of the palanquin. She was tall, blonde, mature, beautiful, regal, and completely naked.
Scurrying forwards, Teyamat paused beside the Doctor just long enough to grasp his kaftan and pull it free. Before he could pass comment she was already using it to cover her mistress's modesty.
With barely a glance at the crone, the Silver Queen stretched out her hand, clicking her fingers. As she did so, the three shadowy hounds at Romana's side cocked their heads and pricked what passed for their ears. A moment later they had abandoned their new mistress to return to their old one, passing through the intervening space like streaks of smoke. Taking their place at Pengallia's side, they began to sniff and nuzzle her fingers as she addressed the room.
"Congratulations Doctor," she nodded at the two time lords, "and Romana. After two million years of peace I don't think the k'thellid need a leader to convince them that we need to work together. And now that the fallen know their true heritage, I'm sure the two races will be able to work together."
"You're still set on invading Gallifrey then?" Romana asked.
"Soon," she said, her eyes sparkling as she challenged her fellow time lords, "but I'll be needing to prepare my fleet first."
Leaning forwards, Teyamat whispered quietly into her ear, and she smiled.
"Give it to me," she said to Romana, holding out her hand.
"I'll be needing some assurances first," said Romana, taking out the silver sphere.
"Assurances?" Pengallia smiled, adjusting the Doctor's kaftan before standing up and walking over to Romana. "I must say," she circled her descendant, "you're not what I'd come to expect from the homeworld."
"Why thank you," the Doctor interrupting the slightly catty looks passing between his companion and her ancestor. "I can assure you we're not what they've come to expect on the homeworld either. So where does this leave us? Free to leave, or the first victims in your next crusade?"
"I don't know," Pengallia smiled. "That rather depends upon Romana here. Are you going to stand in my way?"
"I want to," Romana said, squaring up to Pengallia until their noses were almost touching, "but the Doctor tells me that history requires you to carry out your invasion."
"It does?" Pengallia smiled. "That would explain you, then. You're a symbol of my certain victory."
"We may be related," Romana pressed the silver sphere into Pengallia's hand, "but it doesn't follow that you'll win."
"Ladies, ladies," the Doctor stepped between them. "You both know we shouldn't discuss the future. I just need to make sure your attack on Gallifrey happens in the right time and place."
"You're part of my history now, Doctor. I know the laws of time better than that."
"What about the treaty?" The abbot was getting agitated by talk of fleets and invasions. "You offered to broker a deal, Doctor."
The time lord shrugged apologetically.
"Majestrix?"
"That's not an option, Gesar. Vengeance requires me to attack while Pandak is still President. And there's point making a treaty with a future we helped to create. When we break the time loop, we'll appear only a second after we were imprisoned. The counterstrike will be devastating."
"Does this mean that we can go?" The Doctor asked hopefully.
"Of course," Pengallia stood down, casting a final glance at Romana before returning to the floating palanquin. "It's good to see that my old body's been put to good use."
"Romana, Doctor." Teyamat scuttled forwards to give them both a hug. "It's been a hoot," she told the Doctor before turning to Romana. "Remember," she said, "Talk to him. Walk the eight fold path."
"I will," she smiled. "I suspect what's happened here will make it inevitable."
Taking Romana's hand, the Doctor led her into the TARDIS, and the doors started to close.
"Master!" K9 trundled after them, slipping inside without a moment to spare.
Inside the TARDIS, the Doctor quickly released Romana's hand and ran towards the broken console. Even in the dim light he could see smoke was rising from the shattered time rotor, and that sparks of electricity criss-crossed the panels.
"What have you done!"
"Nothing that can't be fixed, Doctor, said Romana, closing the doors just as K9 slipped inside. "But we need to talk."
"Talk?" The Doctor fiddled with some of the undamaged controls, bringing auxiliary power online and disconnecting the dimensional stabiliser. At least it would look like the TARDIS had just dematerialised. "We need to fix this."
"I can do that for you," Romana said, pulling a small object from inside her robes. "Watch." Pulling back one of the console panels, she forced it inside before pulling up the architectural configuration system and setting to work with the sonic screwdriver. "We're still slaved to the Temperlost, so we can salvage whatever parts we need from there."
"The Temperlost?" A grave look fell across the Doctor's face as he whispered, "Romana, what have you done?"
"I couldn't let her have it, Doctor." As she spoke, the ship's controls started to repair themselves. Panels replaced themselves, screens refreshed, buttons reappeared, and in the centre of the console the smashed exo-glass casing that surrounded the time rotor was replaced with a pristine facsimile. "While you were off on your jaunt I received a new TARDIS through the t-mail system. Well, an heirloom, really. It used to belong to an aunt of mine."
"You gave Pengallia an old TARDIS and kept the fleet for yourself? Do you realise what you've done?"
"I'm saving us, Doctor," she said as a sparkling new time rotor began to rise and fall.
"Saving us? From what?"
"The future. If Pengallia wins that civil war she'll introduce the k'thellid biodata into the matrix. It's the only way the time lords can tap into K'thannid's power."
"But… that's what happened. The web of time…"
"Think about it, Doctor. The first time you touch the telepathic circuits or make mental contact with another time lord, what will happen?"
"Ah." The Doctor paused as he realised the consequences of such an action. "You do realise that you've wilfully changed the course of Gallifreyan history."
"But I did it to save Gallifreyan history."
"But it won't be the same. Think of the changes that will have accrued over two million years? It's not too late to go back and give that thing back."
Romana shook her head. "I'd rather we dropped it in the middle of a black hole somewhere. Besides, there's still a good chance that Pengallia can rebuild her fleet and mount an invasion. She still has a TARDIS after all."
"That's true," the Doctor mused. "So, fate is back in her hands, instead of ours."
"As if we never got involved," Romana added.
"Well," the Doctor rubbed his hands together. "In the mean time, we'll have to sever the link to Gallifrey. At least until we know how history resolves itself."
"Already done it," Romana said smugly, tossing the screwdrider back to the Doctor. "Did it ever occur to you that the randomiser is useless if the Black Guardian can just use our telepathic link with Gallifrey? You only use it for t-mail anyway, and you never read that."
"Hmm. I suppose its comforting to know that most of the time spam I'll be ignoring comes from the Black Guardian."
"Be serious, Doctor. As long as I have this biodata, being around you is dangerous for my health."
"So, what do you propose?"
"There are things about you, Doctor. Thing's you've never told me. I want to know why you don't have k'thellid biodata, and why some of your history is… contradictory. I need to walk the eight fold path."
"Ah." The Doctor frowned. "That's all rather personal. Besides, the eight fold path is just a bit of old mumbo jumbo practised by monks and hermits. Not at all becoming of a time lady."
"Doctor…" she arched an eyebrow threateningly.
"Alright, alright!" He raised his hands in mock surrender. "The eight fold path it is. But don't blame me if you end up as my great-grandmother once removed!"