Chapter Five: An Old Foe
He might have known.
When Mini Doctor had led him to the lair of the scientist who'd created him from stolen samples of the Doctor's biological material (the miniature copy had the power to dematerialize and reappear, just like the TARDIS, grating sound and everything, and how brilliant was that?) the Doctor had known who he would find. How could he not? After all, who else would name their offices "Prydon Industries?" Still, a promise was a promise, and so even though he was anxious to go and seek out his old foe in the towering skyscraper of glass and steel (reminding him unwaveringly and terribly of Canary Wharf), it was first to the scientific laboratories that he allowed himself to be led, following Mini Doctor's instructions from his shoulder to the cages in which the little clones were kept.
There were, in fact, eight clones, six of whom he recognized vaguely from the pages of the Daily Galaxy as being important figures in this world. One of was the miniature of himself, riding his shoulder like an amusement ride, and one was a blonde thing who squealed her high-pitched cry when he set Mini Doctor down among the others and ran straight to his only good arm, throwing her little arms around his neck in a very familiar embrace.
Mini Doctor and, of course, Mini Rose protested squeakily against his going up to face their creator alone, insisting on coming along. The Enemy had money, and power, and plenty of thugs to do his bidding; at least let them come along to help! But the Doctor smiled, lightly patted Mini Rose's soft little golden head with his palm because he couldn't help himself, and promised to come back for them as soon as he was through.
The thugs they'd feared had proved no problem; they hadn't even noticed the Doctor as he crept past in his perception filter. He had an inkling that he could have just materialized as Mini Doctor had shown him-he was becoming more and more convinced that yes, he had superpowers and the clone's were just a duplicate of his- and while that would have been brilliant to try, sound was more noticeable than vision with this sort of thing. Why cellular dissipation and reformation should sound like the Time Rotor grating away was a question for the books, but there it was and he couldn't seem to get around it.
So he just took the lift instead.
Up and up, flying like a bird, like a plane, up to floor 500 and the adversary who could very well be responsible for the Doctor's being called there from his own reality in the first place. The dread foe who, even as the spandex-suited Doctor threw open the door to his evil laboratory, was hooking up the final stolen components to the very cloning machine that had created the little ones.
"Master," the Doctor greeted him quietly, suddenly feeling less superheroic than ever, despite the waving cape.
Pausing in his work of welding the atomic stabilizer to a wide bank of computers, the long-dead Time Lord whirled about to face his one-time friend and ancient nemesis. "That's Mister Master to you, Doctor," he hissed.
"You wo—wait a minute," the Doctor interrupted himself, brow knitting in confusion. "Sorry, that was my bad ear. Mister Master?"
The Master looked just as he had when the Doctor had last seen him all those years ago, back before he'd been killed on Skaro. …well, second to last time he'd seen him. He didn't really count their last meeting, back in his eighth life with Grace and the atomic clock and that whole mess. Hadn't been the Master's own body, to begin with.
"Yes!" the Master crowed, dramatically brandishing the tool he'd been using to weld—was that? It looked like a heavily modified sonic screwdriver-like a sword. "Lex Master, your doom, Doctor!"
The Doctor hadn't thought it was possible for his hearts to sink any lower, but they somehow managed it. Human. This Master, copy of his old nemesis though he may be, was in fact human. Not a Time Lord. Even knowing that none of this was real, that he didn't belong in this world, didn't dissipate his crushing disappointment at realizing that in any universe, he remained the last of his kind.
Still, there was disaster to avert, an alternate reality to save, and the Doctor was determined to do so. In fact, it made it easier that this Master was human…he might have hesitated against the only other Time Lord in the multiverse, but this was not his old friend. This was just another human megalomaniac. "I know what you're doing, Mister Master, and it's going to stop now," he said sternly, making a concerted effort to merely see some faceless, nameless human with the tools to rule the earth rather than the face of his old friend.
"You think so, Doctor?" the Master smirked, leaning back on his computer console as casually as if they were having a lovely chat in the garden. "Do you think that for one moment you could even come close to understanding what I've done?"
"Oooooh, I have a pretty good idea," the Doctor drawled, pacing slowly around the room, fluttering cape lending a touch of panache. He sucked in a deep breath. "Those little clones downstairs are only the first experimental stage. You're using the cloning system to replicate my DNA from the biological specimen you stole, then creating plastic Auton-like creatures by a fusion of the industrial polyethylene and organic components and I actually don't even know if you have Autons in this world but you're going to use the atomic stabilizer to combine together the polymer and Time Lord DNA at the elemental level thus creating an army of unstoppable, replaceable soldiers armed with the weapons you hijacked from the military. Going by the other clones downstairs you're also planning to replace the world's leaders with these same plastic creatures, who will of course be entirely subservient to you thus leaving you lord and master of the earth."
The Doctor sucked in a deep breath, just managing to get the end of that tirade out before he choked. Nearly suffocated himself and hadn't hit half the points of what he'd worked out, but he'd got the gist of it.
To "Lex Master's" (good grief, the Doctor thought) credit, he got over his surprise at the Doctor's having unraveled his dastardly plot rather quickly, and the Doctor certainly hadn't seen the gun coming. It had just never really been the Master's style, though, granted, it was more his than the Doctor's. The problem was-temporary superhero or no-the Doctor was fairly sure he remained vulnerable to bullets. And while he would regenerate easily if shot (he hoped, although he wasn't taking anything for granted here anymore) it would certainly take enough time to recover that the Master would be able to get his plastic/clone hybrids manufacturing and on their way to taking over the world. Not to mention he'd died of gunshot wounds once already, and it had been a deeply unpleasant experience.
Soldering the last wires of the atomic stabilizer to the computers with a wave of his tool, the Master advanced on the Doctor, pistol in hand. "I think I should keep you alive, Doctor," the Master all but cooed, hitting switch after switch with his free hand as he advanced. All around them, cloning tubes lit with a sickly amber light, plastic modified to have life of its own began pouring into man-shaped molds. The gurgling of the pipes had an ominous, mind-numbing rhythm that seemed to beat urgency into his mind. One-two-three-four, one-two-three-four… "At least long enough to see my new children decanted." He kept moving forward, and, intent on the Doctor, didn't see the shadow behind him, creeping ever closer. The Doctor, however, did, and his eyes widened in alarm as it tiptoed silently up on the evil genius. The Master smiled cruelly, flipped the safety on his gun. "Or perhaps not."
There was a great bang, and the Doctor was fairly sure the Master saw a flash of light, but the gun hadn't gone off.
A high-heeled foot (even at that moment, the Doctor grinned in recognition of those bubblegum kitten heels) snapped out, kicking the gun from the Master's hands as he crumpled to his knees, clutching his head where Rose's bit of steel pipe had impacted with his skull. Seeing his opportunity, the Doctor dove in, snatched the tool the Master had been soldering with from his hands, and came up, weird sonic screwdriver lookalike held triumphantly aloft.
"Wandering off, were you?" The Doctor backed slowly towards the door, Rose safely in tow.
"Yeah, well," the blonde shrugged, throwing a beaming grin up at him over her shoulder. Oh, he just…he'd missed her. "You know me. I had a tip about Master."
But already, even as Lex Master clutched his shiny new concussion, living plastic dummies with the DNA of a Time Lord were beginning to move, to stir in their molding cradles. Newborns, they hadn't yet discovered the destruction they were capable of, but it was down to the Doctor to ensure they never would. Hoping against hope that the settings were the same as his own screwdriver (the point was green, who made a sonic screwdriver that glowed green?) the Doctor pointed it at the computers and depressed the switch.
Oooooh, yeah, those were the same settings, all right.
Rose and the Doctor each snatched one of Lex Master's arms as they dove from the laboratory, ducking to avoid the sparks that sprayed from the sonic-melted wiring of the computers. In their tubes, the plastic clones began to writhe and contort and melt, puddling back into their liquid state and then smoking to a black crisp. The atomic stabilizer, swiftly and carelessly welded into the system as it was, was the first component to catch fire. By the time Rose and the Doctor made it to the stairs, the tied and gagged Master between them, the flames were already beginning to spread.
And as they pelted out onto the street, scooping up their tiny clones on the way, the top floors exploded in a shower of flame.