Chapter 12 - Transit
"Wh - what are you doing?" Suren's words echoed around the Consular Chamber as he backed away from the Proctor, his eyes fixed on the gun pointed at his chest. Morovan shifted his weight, wincing as he propped himself up on one arm.
"I would think that's obvious," replied the Proctor. "I need to know where the Herald has gone."
Suren frowned. "How would I know that?"
"Don't give me that!" growled Morovan, "I know you're involved with them. Particularly involved with the woman, I note. They must have told you their plans."
"I'm afraid you're mistaken, Proctor, they told me nothing! I came directly up here after seeing the Lady's ascension, and they left a few moments later, without saying where they were going."
Jonaris sat up, suddenly interested in the conversation. "What was that about an 'ascension'?" Suren turned to face him.
"I was down in the crowd, with the citizens," he replied. "I saw her fall - her and the boy, I mean - and then before they hit the ground, they just… well… disappeared in a blaze of light!"
Jonaris frowned, looking at Morovan, some form of unspoken communication happening between the two of them. Morovan threw the gun to the Procardinal, who quickly retrained it on Suren.
"Help me up," said the stricken Proctor, holding out a hand to Suren, "we have to move quickly." The medic hauled Morovan to his feet, steadying him as he staggered, weak from loss of blood. "I think I might know where they've gone."
"Where?" asked Suren.
"There's a group I've been surveilling for years, that coincidentally seem to have upped their activity in recent weeks, concentrated in a particular area. I had let them continue, thinking that their efforts were futile, but maybe I was wrong in that respect."
"Really!" blustered Jonaris. "And why wasn't I informed of this?"
Morovan laughed bitterly. "Because I wasn't sure which side was going to come out on top, of course," he spat, all pretence at duplicity abandoned. "But now it looks like I may have chosen poorly. Our contingency plan is nowhere near ready, and if they have the key to the Source in their grasp…"
"Then we'll just have to take it back!" bellowed Jonaris, his face florid. "Instruct Fenravic to recall the cloned infantry, and meet me at the east entrance with suitable transport. Send him the precise co-ordinates of this group's location, and you may yet find yourself redeemed for your lack of faith in our cause, Proctor!"
The Proctor stared at the Procardinal, weighing up his options. After a moment he tapped a series of commands into his wrist communicator, then slumped backwards; Suren steered him to a nearby bench.
"It is done, my Lord," Morovan panted, sweat glistening on his haggard face as shock began to take hold on his system.
"Good." The Procardinal turned to Suren, the blaster in his meaty hand moving to target the medic. "On your feet, Suren, you're coming with me."
"What? No, my Lord! I've got to get the Proctor to the Infirmary - he could die without immediate medical treatment!"
Jonaris looked down his nose at Morovan. "Really? A good job he has outlived his usefulness then. Now move!" he snarled, jabbing the gun into Suren's ribs.
The Proctor gave a bitter laugh. "Better do as he says, son," he rasped. "As you can see our venerated Procardinal has no qualms about killing in cold blood."
Suren looked at the stricken Proctor, then turned to Jonaris, his face set in determined defiance. "No. I am a man of medicine, my Lord, as my father was before me. I will not leave this man to die."
The Procardinal considered for a moment, then sneered: "So be it." Raising the energy pistol, he fired at Suren, who crumpled to the floor in an undignified heap. "Not a good time to develop a backbone, Medic Suren," he growled, regarding his handiwork with grudging satisfaction, before turning back towards his former subordinate.
"Goodbye, Morovan." The cleric's words were heavy with irony; "May the Lady have mercy on your soul." With that, he headed towards the exit and out into the corridor beyond.
The Proctor lay back on the bench and closed his eyes, energy spent, his faint whisper barely audible.
"I'll see you in hell, Jonaris…"
Nyssa blinked, her vision slowly returning as the brightness of the transmat faded. She moved to wipe the tears from her eyes, only to find her right arm still restricted by the black-gloved hand of her elderly captor.
"Leave me alone!" she cried, snatching her hand away from his grasp, backing away from the wizened figure on the platform beside her. "Don't touch me!"
She looked around, gathering her bearings. They had materialised at one end of a vast room, sparsely illuminated and filled with row upon row of desks and instrumentation panels. The air was stale; it caught in her throat and caused her to cough. Dust floated through the scattered beams of light like silt disturbed from an ocean floor, stirred into motion by the frantic activity across the room as a number of grey-robed figures moved between the desks, tapping at keyboards and exchanging data.
"What is this place?" Nyssa gasped.
The Seer stepped forward, smiling. "It is the birthplace of the new world, my dear. From here, the Source will be reborn, and the dawn it provides will see Serenity enter a new age, free from the tyranny of the Order."
Nyssa shook her head in disgust. "Freedom from one tyranny, to be replaced by another! And this one backed by an ultimate, omniscient power, held in your black-gloved hand!"
The Seer looked hurt. "What in all the galaxy would make you think that, child? You, of all people, know me better than that."
"I know what I've seen here," she replied, touching pale fingers to her temple as an ache resurfaced in her mind once more - "what I've felt. The people of this world are suffering, whilst you sit and watch. My father would have done something, moved heaven and earth to help-"
"Tremas is long gone, my dear," the Seer interrupted, shaking his head. "Nothing of him remains." Nyssa clenched her fists.
"I remain!" she cried, "As do you. There's a part of him inside you somewhere, deep down, I know there is. He would be appalled at the things you have done here… appalled and ashamed, as am I."
The old man smiled beneath his mask. "You will understand, child, one day."
"Children starving? People living under oppression? I'll never understand that, believe me. Not to mention what you've done to Adric…"
"Ah, yes… the boy." The Seer nodded. "Unfortunate, I agree, but a necessity. As it was, so must it be."
Nyssa started forward, unable to contain her anger: "Why you callous, cold-hearted-"
The Seer backed away, signalling to two grey-clad men stood silently to one side. They moved forward in unison, grabbing Nyssa by the arms and pulling her away from the elderly figure.
"No! Let go of me!" She struggled wildly. "I won't help you in this, you realise that, don't you? I refuse to be a part of this!"
"Oh, but you already are, my dear. A most vital part, in fact." The guards dragged her over to the door of a transparent chamber at the end of the room, a massive tube that ran from floor to ceiling, connected to a mass of equipment and heavy-duty power cables at each end. They snaked organically across the floor and walls, like the roots of a huge, metallic tree. Nyssa fell to her knees as the guards threw her into the chamber, slamming the heavy door behind her and sealing her in. She got to her feet, and hammered on the glass surrounding her, shouting to be released, but the sound couldn't penetrate through the thick walls.
The Seer looked at the chronometer on his wrist. "The only thing that remains…. is the Doctor."
"So if we don't know where Nyssa's been taken, where are we going?" Tegan asked, as the Doctor moved around the console, his seemingly haphazard flicking and pressing of switches setting the TARDIS into motion once more.
"I haven't the faintest idea," admitted the Doctor, looking up as the central column began to rise and fall. "But I do know that we need to get away from here. I've put the TARDIS in a holding pattern for the moment. Adric, do you know where-"
He looked around, to find the boy sat in the furthest corner of the console room, his head in his hands. The Doctor moved over him, crouching down to his level. "Adric?" he said, gently. "Are you alright?" Adric avoided his gaze.
"I'm fine."
"Look Adric, I'm sorry… I can't imagine what you've been through, and-"
"I said I'm fine!" Adric retorted, his frustration immediately overcome by guilt as his flash of anger caused the Doctor to visibly recoil. "Listen," he began more calmly, "the Master injected me with something back there and… well, I don't know what it was but it… it brought me back to myself. You don't need to worry about me."
"Well, I'm glad you're ok," said Tegan from across the console, "but it's Nyssa we need to worry about right now, Doc. What are we going to do?"
The Doctor looked at Adric. "I don't suppose you remember anything of where they took you?" Adric shook his head.
"It's all a blur, really, and from what I do remember… I'm not really sure what was real and what wasn't." The Doctor considered this for a moment, then stood up abruptly, holding his hand out to the Alzarian. Adric hesitated, then took the proffered hand, allowing the Doctor to drag him to his feet. He shrugged off the white robe and threw it to the floor, then carefully straightened his star-shaped badge.
"Right," the Doctor said, whipping out his half-moon spectacles and approaching the console with fresh determination, "if it is the Master we're dealing with then presumably his TARDIS is around here somewhere, albeit disguised or we would have picked it up on the scan we did earlier. But a TARDIS, as you know, has an immense energy signature, so it's very difficult to hide completely, particularly from another TARDIS." He paused, and pointed at a section on the other side of the console, "Now Adric, if you could just set the temporal energy capacitor to maximum, and then keep your eye on the helmic regulator levels, I'll set up an artron energy burst."
"What will that do?" asked Adric.
"It'll send a pulse out through the atmosphere - harmless to any organic matter of course, but where it meets another artron energy source it should bounce back at a detectable level, even if the energy signature is masked in some way." The Doctor pushed past Tegan to get to the console's keyboard, where he began entering commands at a furious pace.
"What can I do, Doctor?" asked Tegan, baffled by pretty much everything the Time Lord had just said, but anxious to help.
"Ah… if you could watch the scanner please, and see if you can identify any artron resonance?"
Tegan looked at him, raising her eyebrows. "And in English, that means…?"
The Doctor closed his eyes and frowned, taking a few seconds to translate the complexities of the energies involved in fifth-dimensional temporal mechanics into language that a twentieth-century Earthling could understand. "Er - shout if it goes 'ping'?"
"Gotcha!" said Tegan. She turned to the scanner, which now showed something akin to an air-traffic control radar screen, her face set in concentration.
"Ready Adric?"
"Ready."
"Right," said the Doctor, "I'm going to activate the energy burst. Hang on to something, there might be a little jolt…!" He pressed a button.
Tegan let out an involuntary scream as the TARDIS lurched violently beneath them, nearly knocking all three of them off their feet. An alarm sounded across the console.
"Adric, get that!" the Doctor shouted, fighting to steady their flight, "It's just the lateral balance cone misalignment warning. Tegan - anything?"
Tegan gripped on to the edge of the console, struggling to regain her balance. "Hang on… I can't see!" The Doctor yanked a lever, and the floor steadied somewhat. Tegan refocussed on the scanner, to see a ring of light pulsating outward from the centre point, expanding further and further until…
"Tegan?"
"Nothing," she said, dejected. "There's nothing out there. We've lost her."
The crowd in the Civic Square, far from dissipating after the disappearance of the Lady, seemed to have grown in size… and worsened in temperament. The recent withdrawal of the Order's troops had only exacerbated the situation, as evidenced by the frightened faces of the remaining Proctors. Violence had broken out in numerous pockets across the square, spreading like a cancer as factions formed and faced off against each other, infecting the surrounding citizens and drawing them in to the conflict. Screams and shouts filled the air, as innocent people cried out in pain, inadvertently crushed by those trying to flee the madness.
"Von! Help me!"
The couple from the Foster's Rest were stood at the east end of the square, close to the Civic Hall, where they had remained after helping Suren through the crowd. They had been mercifully unaffected by the disorder, but in the past few minutes had noticed the pressure rapidly increasing as the weight of the crowd pushed towards them. Rosa cried out to her husband, panic written across her flushed face.
"I - I can't breathe!"
The big man pushed towards her, trying to lift her free from the crush. "Come on lass, up you come!" He pulled her upwards with a grunt, somehow managing to lift her clear of the melee and onto his hefty shoulders. She sagged forwards, gasping for air. Von tried to turn to look at her.
"Rosa? Are you alright, love?"
The barmaid nodded, still breathless; after a few moments her face paled somewhat and she regained her voice. "I'm alright… thanks to you," she panted, "I thought that was me done for, Von, I really did." Rosa straightened, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "We've got to get out of here!"
Von nodded, sweat pouring down his face from the effort of trying to stay upright with Rosa's added weight into the bargain. "You won't find me arguing, lass - can you see a way out?"
Rosa looked around: there was nothing but a sea of people behind them, meaning the only viable escape route was forward. She turned to look towards the Hall. "Hey, what's happening over there?" she said, pointing in the direction of the east entrance.
"What?" asked Von. He strained his neck to see, but couldn't make anything out through the crowd.
"It's the Procardinal! He's leaving - there's a whole load of the Order with him, and they're getting into transports and moving off. They don't look best pleased." She shook her head. "Something's going on, you mark my words, Von."
Her words turned the heads of the people closest to her, starting a ripple effect spreading outwards through the crowd around them, murmured uncertainty swelling into heated shouts and cries. The convoy of transports began to move away, slowly pushing their way through the throng, their armoured bodywork resounding every so often with the clang of missiles hurled in their direction. As they picked up speed the crowd noticeably thinned behind them, the beleaguered citizens osmotically filling the space and being carried along with them.
"Come on!" Von shouted up to his wife, "we're going."
"So what do we do now, Doctor?"
The Doctor stared at the scanner, then thumped the console with his fist. "I was sure that would work!" he said, his voice a mixture of anger and bewilderment as he refocussed on the console, muttering to himself. "It should have worked… why didn't it work?"
Tegan tried to drag him out of his self-diagnostic loop. "So back when you were on Traken, how did the Master hide his TARDIS then?"
The Doctor appeared not to hear her, continuing to mumble under his breath.
"He disguised it as a statue," supplied Adric, "the Melkur. It must have been much more sophisticated than the Doctor's TARDIS - it could walk, for a start."
"Okay," Tegan mused, "so could he have done the same thing here?"
"I think the artron burst would have picked it up, whatever shape it was. Isn't that right, Doctor?" Adric asked.
The Doctor was staring at the scanner, absent-mindedly chewing on the arm of his spectacles. Something wasn't right here, he could feel it, but couldn't quite put his finger on it. The nebulous feeling melted away as he realised he was being spoken to. "Hmm? Oh, yes, that's right Adric. So either the Master's TARDIS isn't here, or…"
"Or we just can't find it." Tegan interrupted. "In either case, we're back to square one. Nyssa's in the hands of a madman, and we're…. nowhere." She folded her arms, her face betraying her frustration at their lack of progress in locating their friend.
The Doctor frowned. 'Nowhere…' he thought, 'just like Traken.' His impotence there had contributed to the obliteration of the entire Union, and now his failures here had put Nyssa in mortal danger…
"Of course! Traken!" he cried suddenly, startling his companions. He turned to Adric. "What was the Master after on Traken?"
The boy frowned. "The Source?"
"Correct!" The Doctor pointed at Adric, excitedly punctuating his sentence, before turning to Tegan. "And what do we know about Serenity?"
Tegan thought for a moment, remembering her conversations with Suren. "Er… it's where the Source was created?"
"Exactly!" The Doctor exclaimed. He rushed around the console, his hands a flurry of motion once more. Tegan looked at Adric, who shared her confused expression.
"But the Source was destroyed!" said Adric.
"And Nyssa and Suren said that Serenity doesn't have enough resources or energy to rebuild it," continued Tegan. "So why would he come here now?"
"Because," replied the Doctor, "he's brought that energy with him."
Adric gasped in realisation - "His TARDIS! And that's why there's no artron resonance, because he's using all the energy up to try to recreate the Source!"
"Or converting it into non-artron energy somehow," agreed the Doctor. "So now all we need to do is find out where the facility is that he's using…" He moved over to the TARDIS databank, and started keying in a search. "It's a long shot, but perhaps the annals of the Traken Union will tell us where it was originally created."
This time it was Tegan's turn to gasp. "Rabbits!"
"Tegan?"
"I know where it is!" she retorted, annoyed with herself. "Suren took me there, when Nyssa was in the Infirmary and you were looking for Adric. Why didn't I realise sooner?"
"Don't worry about that now; do you think you'll be able to find it again?"
Tegan nodded determinedly. "You bet your life, Doc!"
"Right," said the Time Lord, setting the TARDIS into motion once more, "we're on our way!"
The darkness in the small, deserted room was near complete, the only illumination coming from the edges of the single door, slightly ajar, throwing scant light onto dust-covered benches and cabinets that had sat undisturbed for untold years. In the space of a heartbeat this state of shadowy calm was completely shattered as a brief storm of blue light and otherworldly sound heralded the arrival of the TARDIS, its forcible reentry into reality stirring dust and air into motion as it solidified with a dull 'thud'. A moment later the outer door opened, the blond head of the Doctor popping into view. He quickly scanned the room, satisfying himself of its lack of occupants before signalling his companions to follow him outside. Tegan emerged, immediately breaking into a cough as she inhaled the stuffy atmosphere; the Doctor, now over by the door, turned and silently signalled for her to be quiet. Tegan nodded, hands clamped over her mouth as she regained control of her breathing. Adric joined them, moving over to where the Doctor stood, peeping through the slim gap in the door.
"Are we in the right place?" he whispered. The Doctor paused for a moment, considering what he could see of the room beyond, then nodded.
"I think so," he replied in a similarly hushed tone, "we seem to be in an antechamber to what looks like the control room that Tegan described. There looks to be some activity at the other end of the room, but I can't quite make it out. It's all quiet down this end, though."
"Can you see Nyssa?" asked Tegan, trying to peer over the Doctor's shoulder.
"No, not yet. We need to get closer before we can formulate a plan. Are you both ready?" The Doctor's two young companions nodded in silent affirmation.
"Right. Follow me."
The Doctor opened the door gently, and the trio moved silently into the control room, crouching behind the empty banks of desks for cover. They had covered about a third of the room before the Doctor silently signalled for them to stop, whereupon they hunkered down behind a large instrumentation panel. The Doctor tentatively peeped round the edge.
"Can you see anything?" whispered Tegan.
"Hang on…" the Doctor waited for a few moments more, before pulling his head back into their hiding place, a demoralised expression on his face. "Do you want the good news, or the bad news?"
"Good," replied Adric and Tegan, simultaneously.
"Well the good news is, I can see Nyssa… and she appears unharmed."
"Great! And the bad news…?"
The Doctor sighed in frustration. "There are approximately fifty men between us and her, and I don't currently have any idea of how to get past them."
"Wake up! Come on, boy - for Keeper's sake! Wake up!"
Suren groaned, groggily shaking his head. "What…" He put his hand to his head, wincing as the motion caused pain to flare through his left shoulder. "Ahhhh… what happened?" he groaned.
Proctor Morovan sat next to the medic, propped up against a bench; an open medikit rested in his lap, half its contents spilled across the floor. He picked up a packet, ripped it open with his teeth, and reached over with his uninjured arm to slap the patch contained inside onto Suren's neck. "You were stunned," he said, his voice hoarse; "Lucky for you Jonaris isn't a good shot; he just caught you with a glancing blow to the shoulder, enough to knock you out, but not for long. That stim patch will help you come round."
Suren struggled to a sitting position, already beginning to feel the stimulant rushing through his veins, banishing the numbness from his extremities and the grogginess from his mind. He looked around the room: the Procardinal was nowhere to be seen. "Where did he go?" he asked.
"Off to start a civil war, I think," replied Morovan, matter-of-factly.
"What?!"
The Proctor groaned as he tried to move, the effort causing pain to lance through the blaster wound to his chest and shoulder. "The faction that holds the Lady possesses the key to the Source… our dear Procardinal will want to make sure that's his faction, and he has a sizeable cohort of cloned soldiers at his command to back up his claim." He held his uninjured arm out to Suren. "Come on," he grunted, "we need to get moving."
Suren looked at him in disbelief. "What in all the Union makes you think I would help you? You were pointing a gun at me five minutes ago!"
Morovan coughed, wincing. "Oh, don't take that to heart, boy. We're on the same side now," he laughed scornfully.
"'The same side'? I'm not sure you know which side you're on, Proctor. Tell me, is it difficult keeping track of who you're working for from one minute to the next?" Suren got to his feet, turning his back on the stricken man and heading towards the Prime Consul's desk. Whether the Proctor was a traitor or not, Suren still had a medical duty to fulfil; he activated the comms station contained in the desk and keyed for the Infirmary.
"I have only ever acted for the good of the people of Serenity," Morovan called after him. The medic paused, and the Proctor continued. "Jonaris and Varden have grown too powerful. Between them, they hold sway over every aspect of our lives, and such power must not remain unchecked." He coughed again, wiping blood from his lips. Looking down at the red stain on his fingers, he smiled, holding them up to Suren. "There's blood on my hands, I'll admit," he said, "but everything I have done was to earn their trust, and in doing so, to position myself so as to bring them down if needed."
The comms unit bleeped; Suren stared at the Proctor for a moment, then spoke into the receiver: "This is Medic Suren in the Consular Chamber. I have one more patient for immediate medical assistance and evac. Blaster wound and substantial blood loss." The comm squawked in acknowledgement, and Suren returned his gaze to Morovan. "The only place we're going is the Infirmary. You're not fit for anything else… especially not for the position you hold."
The Proctor laughed bitterly. "You know nothing, boy. I'm a policeman, and a good policeman serves the people, not the interests of those in power." He coughed, his breath rattling in his chest. "If you take me out of the game now, then whichever side wins, the people of Serenity will lose."
"The 'game'?" cried Suren, "Is that all this is to you?"
"What is a game, if not one side pitted against the other? The only difference is the prize at stake!"
"But you seem to be playing by a different rulebook." The medic thought for a moment, then shook his head decisively. "You've proven yourself unworthy of trust. We must put our faith in the Lady… and the Doctor."
"An admirable choice, boy, but - to labour this tiresome analogy - I don't think they're aware of exactly who they're playing with." He struggled to rise once more, pulling himself with some difficulty into a seated position. "You have to help me, Suren. It's the only way."
"What's going on now?" Adric whispered, still hunched next to Tegan in their makeshift hiding place in the vast control room. The Doctor was peering around the edge of the bank of desks, watching the bustling proceedings at the far end of the room. As far as he could tell, a proportion of the grey-clad workers had finished their activities around the base of the large transparent tube that currently imprisoned Nyssa, and were now running tests on the complex set of wiring they had put in place. Another group were at the foremost control desks, working at flickering monitors that were alive with reams of numerical and graphical data. Still more were arranged in front of the tube, and seemed to be meditating or praying. The diminutive figure of the Seer stood alone on the dais, surveying the operations before him whilst periodically consulting a device on his wrist. The Doctor contemplated the scene, then turned back to his companions.
"They've connected Nyssa up to some sort of apparatus down at the far end of the room. She's held in a kind of chamber; I don't know what the purpose of it is yet but I don't like the look of it one bit. Their preparations seem to be coming to an end - we need to get her out of there, and the sooner the better." He looked at Adric, considering the young Alzarian for a moment. "Adric, I need you to do something for me."
The boy looked back at him, his snub-nosed face earnest. "Of course, Doctor, what is it?"
"I need you to quietly make your way back to the ante-room where we landed. It looked as though it could have been a cloakroom in the past - if we're lucky there may be some of those grey robes of theirs in one of the lockers. We're going to need a disguise if we're to get through all those acolytes."
Adric looked puzzled for a moment. "But surely Tegan can–"
The Doctor cut him off, gently putting a hand on his shoulder. "This needs a stealthy approach, Adric. You were an Outler back on Alzarius, you're much more skilled and experienced than Tegan at this sort of thing."
Adric considered this, then nodded silently. The Doctor clapped him on the shoulder. "Good man. Off you go, we'll be waiting for you here." The boy turned and slowly began to pick his way back through the dusty furniture in the direction of the TARDIS.
Tegan raised an eyebrow at the Doctor. "You don't fool me, Doc, I could just as easily have done that." she said in a low voice. "You want him out of the way."
"Not exactly Tegan. it's just…"
"What?"
The Time Lord sighed, looking back to where Adric crept his way across the darkened room. "He's been through a lot since we arrived on Serenity, mostly at the hands of the people in this room, if my contact at the Foster's Rest is to be believed." He turned back to Tegan. "You saw what he was like in the Consular Chamber, and then in the Seer's lab. Rassilon knows what these people have done to him, but I can't risk them destabilising and using him again. It won't help Nyssa, and it's not fair to Adric."
Tegan regarded the Time Lord with something approaching admiration. "I was wrong," she said with a momentary smile. "Looks like you do have a heart after all."
"I have my moments," the Doctor replied, before focussing on the task in hand. "Right. We need a distraction." He turned to the equipment currently shielding them, opened a panel at the base of the unit, and began to tentatively poke around in the dusty innards.
The Seer stood on the dais, a still point in the centre of a maelstrom of activity as his grey-robed followers worked quickly and diligently to bring the ancient machinery in the room back to life. One by one the aged panels of instrumentation lit up, controls and monitors flickering and blinking as energy flowed through their systems once more, waking them from their centuries-long slumber.
"Not long now, old friend."
The voice came from behind him; the Seer's gaze remained fixed on the room ahead, his wrinkled face breaking into a smile behind his breath mask.
"My dear Father," his electronic voice rasped, "I've been expecting you."
The younger man stepped forward, his head covered by his grey cowl as always. "Of course you have. You have the advantage in that respect." He moved to stand next to the Seer, following his gaze across the room. "The preparations are almost complete. The dawn is on its way; tonight we shall see the long-awaited end of the Order, and a new beginning for Serenity."
The old man nodded, and consulted the device at his wrist. "Indeed, my friend. You have waited a long time for this, I know. You patience will be duly rewarded, have no fear… however we are still missing a vital component."
The Grey Father turned towards him. "I understood from Brother Byrnus that everything was in place," he said, suddenly concerned. "What more is required?"
The Seer chuckled. "Oh, don't fret, my dear Father." He looked out across the room, as if searching for something. "Everything is in hand…"
"Ouch!"
The Doctor hastily pulled his hand out of the access panel as something inside fizzed and sparked, examining the scorched ends of his fingers as Tegan wafted away the acrid smoke that drifted from the hole.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes," the Doctor whispered, frowning in concentration. "There's definitely energy running through these circuits, which is good. And if these controls do what I think they do, so much the better… so what we need now is something loud and visible."
"But won't that lead them right to us?" Tegan challenged. The Doctor gave an impatient sigh.
"Yes, Tegan, but we won't be here, will we? The plan is to bring them over here whilst we make our way across the opposite side of the room, shielded by the array of distribution transformers over there," he pointed to a row of equipment that Tegan couldn't distinguish from the rest of the overly-complicated machinery in the room; "Then we can creep up behind those huge power lines right up to where Nyssa is held, hopefully managing to release her and find cover whilst her captors are busy dealing with the coolant leakage."
"What coolant leakage?"
The Doctor smiled. "This one!" he said, twisting a bundle of wires together and then reaching up to push a series of sliders to maximum. Almost immediately, clouds of white gas began furiously venting from a series of outlets in the ceiling above them, as the sound of alarms began to fill the air. "Go!" shouted the Doctor, and he pushed Tegan into motion, following her rapid crawl to the far side of the room.
Adric opened the last of the lockers in the small ante-room that housed the TARDIS, frowning as he saw that it too was empty, save for a light covering of cobwebs from its resident spiders. Frustrated, he slammed the door closed; his expression suddenly turned from anger to one of surprise as alarm sirens immediately broke out from the other side of the ante-room door. He rushed to the door, opening it slightly, only to be greeted by an impenetrable cloud of white gas billowing towards him. Unable to see beyond it, and uncertain as to its toxicity, he slammed the door closed, turning to lean on it heavily as he wondered out loud what had gone wrong.
"Damn it, Doctor - what have you done now?"
"What the…?" Brother Byrnus looked up from his monitor at the sound of the alarms, then keyed an enquiry into the system. He transferred the resultant schematic onto his data pad, and after sending a number of his colleagues running towards the smoke-filled rear of the room, he rushed up to where the Grey Father stood on the dais, together with his aged companion.
"It's the coolant system, Father, something must have ruptured and–" he stopped as the Seer held up a withered hand.
"It will be quickly repaired, Brother, have no fear. But I wonder if I could perhaps borrow a number of your colleagues for another urgent matter? I believe we have some… 'visitors'."
Byrnus looked at the Grey Father momentarily, unsure of how to proceed. His superior inclined his cowled head, and Byrnus turned and beckoned towards his nearest brothers.
The Doctor peeped over the large silver pipe that snaked in front of them, quickly ducking down as a group of acolytes ran past within feet of where he and Tegan had momentarily concealed themselves.
"All clear?" she asked, hopefully.
"Not exactly," the Doctor answered. "Let's give it a few more seconds and then–"
"And then you'll get up, turn around, and put your hands on your head!"
The Doctor looked at Tegan, then screwed his eyes closed in frustration. Tegan cautiously poked her head out of their hiding place to see several grey-clad men pointing energy rifles in their direction. She turned back to the Doctor.
"Well," she said resignedly, "we got further than I thought we would."
"It's so refreshing to know you have such faith in me, Tegan," the Doctor replied, getting to his feet and holding a hand out to her. "Come on, you know the drill by now." She took his hand, and he gently pulled her to her feet.
"Off by heart," Tegan replied, putting her hands on her head as the acolytes encircled them, their rifles primed and ready. "Let's go."
Nyssa's breath condensed into mist against the wall of her perspex prison, her hands pressed against the curved glass as she watched her companions being reluctantly marched towards the dais. After her attention had been caught by the rather spectacular coolant leakage at the back of the room, and hoping against hope that it had something to do with the Doctor, she had watched intently for any sign of her companions; finally she had noticed their stealthy progress across the room, and held her breath as they picked their way through the equipment, willing them to evade capture and come to her aid. As the group of armed acolytes made their way towards their hiding place she hammered on the glass, shouting in a vain attempt to alert her friends to their impending capture, but to no avail. Her hopes of rescue faded, dissipating into nothingness like the clouds of coolant escaping into the air across the room. Refusing to let despair overcome her, Nyssa clenched her fists, and began to hammer on the glass once more as the group escorting the Doctor and Tegan approached. She might be trapped, but her friends were walking into a danger they knew nothing about. She had to warn them.
"Tegan!" she shouted, her voice echoing around the cylindrical chamber, her fists pummelling the glass. "Tegan, can you hear me?"
Her friends mounted the steps ahead of their armed entourage. Tegan immediately looked in Nyssa's direction, anxious to make sure her friend was unharmed. Seeing the Trakenite frantically trying to get her attention, she altered her course suddenly, running over to the chamber before the guards could react. Tegan put her hands up to Nyssa's on the other side of the glass; she began to speak but the thick barrier between them muted her words. Nyssa shook her head in frustration.
"Tegan, I can't hear you!" she shouted; the guards had nearly caught up to the Australian woman, leaving Nyssa only a few seconds to warn her of the danger they were in. "Tegan, please try and understand, there's so little time! Tell the Doctor, it's not–"
"What?" Tegan slapped the glass in frustration, desperately trying to make out what the Trakenite was trying to tell her. "Nyssa - I can't understand you! What–"
Their frantic attempt at communication was cut short as the guards reached Tegan, grabbing her by the arms and dragging her back to where the Doctor stood, held at gunpoint in front of the Seer and his grey-cowled companion. She looked back at Nyssa, who was still shouting silently in her perspex cell, eyes locked on Tegan as she tried to get her message across.
"No… I can't - get off me!" She squirmed in the acolytes' grasp, trying in vain to free her arms.
"Steady Tegan," the Doctor said as she was hauled next to him, "I'm sure our hosts mean us no harm, including Nyssa," he turned towards the two figures before them. "Isn't that right?"
The Grey Father remained still, unmoved by the Doctor's exhortation, his expression hidden in the darkness of his hood. His elderly mentor, on the other hand, inclined his head in a nod, a smile faintly detectable behind his breath-mask. Encouraged by the response, the Doctor continued.
"I'm the Doctor, by the way - I'm sorry we haven't been formally introduced, but you were in rather a rush when we met briefly before. I'd offer you a handshake, but you have me at somewhat of a disadvantage." The Doctor indicated the guards either side of him, who had a tight grip on his arms. With a black-gloved hand, the Seer motioned to the guards, who immediately released the pair and stepped back.
"Thank you," said the Doctor, with a smile, "I do find being held at gunpoint tends to restrict the conversation somewhat."
The Seer inclined his head once more. "You're welcome, old friend."
The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "'Old friend', eh? In my experience, old friends don't try to blow each other up! That explosion in your lab nearly killed us," he accused.
"I knew you would prevail, Doctor… you always do," the Seer rasped, thinking for a moment before correcting himself: "well, almost always." He held his hand out for the Time Lord to shake. The Doctor took it, examining the black glove.
"Well, 'old friend', why don't we just drop the charade, hmm? I know who you are." The Doctor dropped the Seer's hand in disgust. "Your disguises are getting worse, by the way - this one's practically the same as the Portreeve on Castrovalva - minus the beard, I admit - and while we're on that subject, how exactly did you escape from there?"
"Castrovalva?" The Seer paused for a moment. "That was such a long time ago." He shook his head, chuckling. "You are mistaken, Doctor. But no matter… you are here, and the circle is almost complete."
"If you think I'm completing anything for you, you're the one who's mistaken, Master!" The Doctor punctuated his retort with a pointed finger, then looked towards Nyssa, still banging on the curved glass, still desperately trying to tell them something. He turned back to the Seer. "Don't you think you've done enough damage to the people of the Traken Union? To Nyssa?"
The Seer smiled calmly. "I have done no harm to the Union or its people–"
"And you can stop that game too," the Doctor interrupted. "Ever since we landed here I have been the subject of unfounded accusations designed to distract me from what's really going on around here, and I refuse to be subjected to it any longer!"
"And what exactly do you think is going on, Doctor?" the Seer enquired, calmly.
Tegan stepped in before the Doctor could answer. "Well, it's obvious, isn't it? You had a crack at the Source on Traken, failed dismally, and now you're back for another go, only you plan to use Nyssa as your Keeper this time. Well it won't work!" she cried, hands on her hips.
The Seer spread his gloved hands wide in a gesture of innocence. "I am not here to seize the Source, nor to destroy it. I seek only to recreate it, not for myself, but for the benefit of all on Serenity."
"Of course you do," Tegan's voice dripped with sarcasm. "And I'm Dame Edna."
The old man's harsh electronic chuckle echoed around the room. "I had forgotten how baffling Earthlings were," he laughed. "But I assure you my dear, my intentions are true. I have lived a very long life, and I fear I am reaching the end of my time in this existence. I would like to give something back before I die."
"You've died before," said the Doctor, "Many times. I don't recall such altruism on those occasions, and I find it hard to believe now." He paced about in front of the Seer, his eyes fixed on the small figure. "In any case, all of this is academic. The recreation of the Source would require a massive input of energy; I don't see your TARDIS anywhere, and without it you have no power source. It seems your plan is missing a vital component."
"Once again, you are mistaken, my dear Doctor," the Seer smiled. "The energy required is right here in front of you, only you're too blind to see it. In fact it is only because of you that I am in a position to utilise it. I, and the people of Serenity, will be eternally grateful to you." Bowing in deference, he continued: "However, you are correct in one respect: I am missing something." He held out his leather-clad hand. "The key to your TARDIS, please."
The convoy of transports rumbled along the road, their heavy wheels churning through mud and pools of rainwater from the earlier storm, tossing up spray as they splashed their way through. The rain had once more abated, the darkness of the clouds giving way to a suggestion of light from the east, a tentative hint of the sunrise to come.
Procardinal Jonaris sat in the lead transport, his bloated fingers drumming against the arm rest at his side. He leaned forward to speak to the driver.
"How long until our destination?"
The driver consulted his dashboard, then half-turned to address the cleric. "Not long, my Lord. The mud is slowing the rear transports somewhat, but we should get there within the next five minutes."
"That's not good enough!" Jonaris' meaty fist connected with the seat in front. "The future of Serenity is at stake here, man - increase your speed!"
"Yes, my Lord." The driver sighed, but communicated the command to the rest of the convoy, and slowly increased the throttle. Mud splattered on the windscreen as they surged along the waterlogged road at a faster pace, the wipers working to their maximum to clear it.
Highbishop Fenravic, who was sat opposite the Procardinal, nodded to the rear viewport. Well, that should enable us to outdistance them, at any rate."
Jonaris frowned. "What are you blathering on about now, Fenravic?"
"The crowd following us." The Highbishop indicated to the rear once more. "They've been keeping pace with us since the Civic Square. The citizens, I presume," he added, redundantly.
"What?!" Jonaris fumed, straining to see where his subordinate was indicating. The transport turned, rounding a bend in the road and allowing them to see the full extent of the convoy as it curved and snaked behind them. Fenravic was right - beyond the final vehicle marched a substantial crowd, rain-soaked and mud-splattered, but advancing purposefully in their wake. "What do they want?"
"I imagine they are anxious to witness your triumph, my Lord!" the Highbishop simpered. Jonaris looked at him with disdain, wondering, not for the first time, how someone as disappointingly superficial and shallow as Fenravic had managed to rise to the top eschelons the Order without being murdered in his sleep.
"Of course they are," sneered Jonaris. "Just make sure, once we're inside the facility, that all entrances are secured and manned. We wouldn't want our beloved populace witnessing everything, now would we?" He turned to the front, eyes fixed on the road ahead, and the task before him.
The Doctor stared at the Seer for a moment, shaking his head slowly and deliberately. "Oh, I don't think so."
The old man sighed. "Unfortunately dawn is almost upon us, and so I don't have time for a protracted argument, nor would anything I have to say convince you. Must we go through the usual routine then, with my colleagues here threatening Tegan at gunpoint until you agree? It seems such an awful waste of time, plus not very pleasant for your lovely companion."
The Grey Father motioned behind him, and the acolytes surrounding them loudly primed their weapons in order to reinforce the point. The Doctor glanced at them over his shoulder, then dug in his pocket, handing the TARDIS key over with a scowl.
"Thank you," said the Seer, immediately handing the key over to a nearby acolyte. "You know what to do," he instructed. The acolyte bowed, then hurried towards the back of the control room and the door that concealed the TARDIS.
"It won't do you any good, you know," the Doctor declared. "You and I both know that the linkages required for mass energy transfer and artron conversion take days to engineer - so if you're hoping to keep to your dawn schedule you're going to be sadly disappointed."
"I am rarely disappointed, my dear Doctor," replied the Seer, holding his arms out and smiling. "It comes with the territory."
Adric ducked behind the TARDIS's interior door, keeping it open a crack as he peered back into the console room. From his concealed position within the ante-room outside he had watched in frustration as the Doctor and Tegan were captured and marched to the dais, unable to help them without giving his position away and suffering a similar fate. He had continued to watch through the door, trying to make out what was happening at the far end of the room, until he noticed a guard turn from the dais and head in his direction. Quickly retreating, he found the only feasible place to hide was in the TARDIS, where he imagined he would be safe from detection until the opening of the outer doors caused him to dive for cover through the internal door leading to the rest of the ship.
The Alzarian looked on impotently as the grey-clad acolyte paused for a moment, taking in the unexpected inner dimensions of the craft, before moving to the console. The intruder walked around the controls, seemingly getting his bearings before he stopped at a particular panel, ducking down beneath it and out of Adric's view. The boy froze, uncertain as to what to do. The sound of an access panel opening and the whirr of an unidentified power tool emanated from beneath the mushroom-shaped console, but these noises were accompanied by intermittent silences that would most likely render any action he took immediately detectable. He toyed with the idea of venturing further into the TARDIS interior to find some sort of weapon, but the nearest rooms were the girls' and his own sleeping quarters, which were unlikely to offer up anything he could utilise, and the intruder would probably be long gone if he ventured any further away.
Before he could form an alternative plan, the acolyte rose to his feet, suddenly appearing back within Adric's narrow field of vision. Wiping his hands on his grey robe, he picked up a sizeable electronic component, took one quick final look around the console room, and turned and headed out of the door. Adric quickly emerged from his hiding place, and ran round to the panel that the acolyte had been tampering with.
"Why in the world would they take that?" he asked.
Suren panted, his face shining with perspiration as he supported the wounded Proctor Morovan in their slow progress across the deserted Civic Chamber.
"I don't know why I let you talk me into this," he growled, struggling to support the Proctor.
Morovan gasped as their movements wrenched his injured shoulder. "Because - ah! - because you know it's the right thing to do," he replied through gritted teeth. He felt a warmth trickling down his right arm, indicating that his wound had started to bleed again. He indicated to the Prime Consul's desk. "Over there, I think."
They hobbled over to the desk together, Suren depositing Morovan heavily in the Prime Consul's chair, where he sat for a moment, eyes closed and breathless. Suren stood at his side, wearily wiping the sweat from his face.
"So what are we looking for?" he asked.
Morovan opened his eyes, and struggled to sit up. "Varden disappeared from under our noses earlier - not a single person saw him leave." He opened a drawer. "I have long suspected the Prime Consul of having a covert transmat facility; it must be somewhere nearby, perhaps activated by a concealed control device. We just need to locate it."
Suren shook his head in exasperation, indicating his bloodstained shoulder. "You can't transmat with an open wound!" he cried. "Even if you make it to the endpoint, the reconstruction will most likely kill you!"
Morovan stopped his efforts for a moment, turning to look the medic in the eye. "If I stay here, whichever side wins, I'm as good as dead anyway. It's a chance I'm willing to take."
The Doctor and Tegan looked on as the acolyte returned from the ante-room, approached the dais, and handed the newly-disconnected component to the Seer. The old man looked it over, then passed it to the Grey Father.
"Here you are, my friend… the final piece in the puzzle. See that it is installed quickly, but carefully. There must be no mistakes."
The hooded man nodded, looking at the complicated device resting on his palms. "A strange feeling," he said, "to hold the future of Serenity in my hands… the key to a new beginning." He seemed to contemplate this for a moment, then turned and held the component aloft, to the cheers of the watching acolytes.
"Wait a minute," cried the Doctor, "That's my power regulator!"
"Correct, Doctor," rasped the Seer, "Don't worry, it shall be returned."
The Doctor started forward, only to be restrained once more by the guards flanking him. "You can't use that!" he cried, struggling against his captors, "You can't just shoehorn Gallifreyan technology into any old system! The consequences could be catastrophic!"
The Grey Father walked to the base of the cylindrical chamber holding Nyssa, who looked on silently as he carefully handed the component to Brother Byrnus. The younger man opened an access panel at the bottom of the chamber, gently took the device, and inserted it into the exposed workings, before beginning the delicate work of making the relevant connections. The Seer watched intently, then turned back to the struggling Time Lord.
"I think I know what I'm doing," he replied with a smile.
"You thought you knew what you were doing on Logopolis!" cried Tegan, "And look how that turned out!"
The old man drew breath to reply, but was interrupted by the return of the Grey Father.
"We are almost ready, Seer. I will address the Brethren, if I may?" The Seer nodded his assent.
"By all means, my dear Father. You will do a much finer job than I could ever hope to."
The Grey Father turned to face the acolytes, who had assembled before him, and raised his arms in exhortation.
Nyssa had given up her vain attempts at trying to communicate with her friends, and instead watched as the hooded figure, who had moments ago overseen some sort of work carried out to the base of her prison, began to address the rapturous followers gathered before him. She could of course, hear nothing of the speech, and as the figure had his back to her she had no hope of deciphering any of it via any other means. She sighed, wiping her brow; the atmosphere in the chamber was becoming stifling, and there seemed to be a distinct lack of ventilation. She began to wonder how long they planned to keep her in here, and whether the air would give out before she did.
Nyssa returned her gaze to the scene outside. The figure's speech appeared to be captivating the audience, as all attention was focussed on him, including the wizened figure of the Seer and even, she noticed, her own companions.
'Wait a minute…' she thought, as the implications of what she was seeing hit home. No-one was watching her, and that presented an opportunity… one that she mustn't squander. She had to move quickly.
Slowly crouching down, she began to investigate the curved wall at the lower end of her chamber. The machinery surrounding the bottom of the tube gave her about three feet of cover before the walls became clear perspex - hopefully enough to conceal her efforts from view. She ran her fingers along the cold metal wall - the surface was for the most part smooth and impenetrable, but there seemed to be three panels towards the front, adjacent to the door, that were potentially removable. Nyssa examined the one closest to the door, in the hope that it would give her access to the locking mechanism. The panel proved to be sealed tight with rivets; she tried to get her fingernails into the join in order to prise it open, but to no avail.
Undeterred, Nyssa moved on to the second panel, to find that was similarly tightly sealed. She glanced up, peering over the edge; seeing that the occupants of the room were still distracted, she continued her efforts.
The third panel provided the opportunity she was seeking: she pushed her hands against it and it gave slightly at one end, where the rivets hadn't been sealed as efficiently. Nyssa managed to get her nails into the small gap along the edge; she gave it an experimental tug, but it barely moved.
"Some sort of leverage is required, I think," she murmured to herself, running her hand through her hair. Her fingers caught on one of the clips that Tegan had used to pin her hair up as they were dressing for the feast, what seemed a lifetime ago. Pulling out the clip, she inserted it into the gap at the edge of the panel, wiggling it back and forth in an effort to widen the opening. She let out an excited gasp as it began to work and a couple of rivets popped out and fell to the floor. Soon she had made a gap wide enough to get her fingers inside; she pulled on the panel, and it opened a couple of inches more - enough to get her hand within.
Nyssa quickly assessed the circuitry inside, groaning with frustration as she saw nothing that linked to the door mechanism. "Well, I'll just have to see what damage I can do," she murmured, as she began to test the linkages methodically.
"And so, my Brethren, our time is at hand. The long wait in the darkness is almost over, and we shall soon reap the rewards of all your labours. The Boy has delivered on all that was promised - an end to religious dogma, an end to the Lady's power, and the means to bring forward a new beginning for the people of Serenity. An enlightenment is coming, my friends, it is but a hair's breadth away."
The grey-clad acolytes cheered, raising their hands aloft. The Grey Father waited for them to quieten, then continued:
"No more hardship. No more suffering. No more children will starve as the Order wallows in opulence." His voice became louder as the acolytes voiced their agreement. "No more silence from above as prayers go unanswered. Now science will provide those answers… as the light of the Source brings us out of the darkness, and we welcome the new dawn!"
The Grey Father raised his hands high, his followers breaking into rapturous applause. Tegan leaned towards the Doctor.
"You've got to admit, the guy makes a good point," she whispered. The Doctor frowned.
"Good point or not, I don't like it," he muttered. "There's something wrong here, I can feel it. Centuries-old machinery plus Gallifreyan time technology is a recipe for disaster in my opinion–"
"Plus Nyssa's right in the middle of it," Tegan interrupted, looking over to where the Trakenite was imprisoned. "Hang on, where's she gone?"
The Doctor followed her gaze, frowning. "I don't know. Hopefully she's found a way out, but I can't see–" He stopped abruptly, his head whipping round. "What was that?"
A different sound cut through the noise of the crowd like a knife. The clapping and cheering faltered as the grey acolytes focussed instead on the intruding sound - the sound of energy blasts rending through the air. They turned to see the inner doors burst open, as hundreds of white-clad soldiers burst into the room, training their weapons on the startled occupants, a familiar figure following in their wake.
"Apostates!" yelled Procardinal Jonaris, flanked by a number of armed guards; "Heretics and blasphemers! You are traitors to the Lady and the people of Serenity she stands to protect! Put down your weapons and surrender or you shall feel her wrath!"
The Doctor turned to Tegan. "Well, that's all we need," he said, raising his hands.
