Doctor Who_ Head Games Part 25

'Well, he could be resurrected, couldn't he?'

'You know that doesn't happen in real life,' said Dr Who sternly.

'This isn't real life!' his companion protested. Then his face fell. 'Oh. Yes it is. I forgot.'

'See, the Queen gets gunned down, blood everywhere, yet when the emergency services arrive, there isn't a scratch on her.'

The Doctor nodded. 'I can see why that would make the front pages. And why you might suspect my involvement.'

'Especially since UNIT gave out their standard "No comment" line,' said Ace. That usually means you.'

'It's becoming too easy to track me from media reports. Still, I rectified that in a century or so.' They stepped from the TARDIS and onto a deep, crimson carpet. 'So Elizabeth reaches her Golden Jubilee year after all?'

'Yeah. I saw that in the papers too.'

'But this was only your fifth choice of events?'

'Fifth on the list I said,' she corrected him. 'I was doing them in reverse chronological order. It took me a fortnight to get this 196 far, and then I missed out the fourth one.'

'You did?'

'You told me to.' The Doctor looked confused. Ace enjoyed tying him up in one of his own temporal tautologies.

A gasp of awe distracted her. Mel had emerged from the police box behind them and was staring in wonder. Ace had paid scant attention to their surroundings, but she looked now.

'Not bad,' she admitted grudgingly. She knew it was an understatement.

The enormous, high-ceilinged room was a delight in red and gold, offset by grey marble pillars and lavish floral displays.

'We're in the Great Hall of Buckingham Palace,' the Doctor explained.

'Really? Should we be here?' Ace felt a weird sort of childish guilt, but tried to dismiss the sensation.

'To judge by the absence of staff, I would say it's essential.'

They climbed a magnificent staircase and strolled along the luxuriously furnished Picture Gallery. Ace felt distinctly under-dressed in jeans and T-shirt and her back was cold, missing the hopper's presence. Behind her Mel dallied, examining each painting with a breathless enthusiasm. She found that irritating, but the Doctor was quietly patient. Ace wished her own portrait had been placed here instead of Windsor Castle. That'd show Mel who was changing for the worse.

'You were at number three by the way,' she mentioned, to break the silence. 'My list, I mean. December 2001. You should see the trouble we're going to cause there!'

'And I gave you a hint about where to go next, eh? Not very ethical.'

'You asked me to pa.s.s on a message too.' This was the point she had wanted to make, but she hadn't been sure how to broach it. She studied the Doctor's face. 'You said to do something about Kadiatu Lethbridge-Stewart.'

'Oh.'

'What did you mean?'

'I think my future self should keep my nose out of our business.'

197.

'Doctor!'

'Are you quite finished, Mel?' The Doctor took on fresh purpose as he strode to the Gallery's far end and halted at a set of mirrored doors on the right.

'Where are we going?' Mel asked, reluctantly tearing herself away from the art.

'Throne Room,' he said cursorily.

Chris started as the doors were pushed open. He felt a mixture of surprise, relief and apprehension when the Doctor entered, flanked by two women. His immediate instinct was to join them, but he pulled back as he recognized Ace from the cafe in Glebe and one more of Dr Who's accusations was proved to be true.

Jason rounded on the new arrivals and screamed: 'What are you doing here?'

'I wish to speak to the King,' said the Doctor glibly. He approached the throne.

'You aren't allowed,' Dr Who warned. Chris shuffled, feeling conspicuous by the doppelganger's side.

The Doctor sounded furious. 'Why not? Afraid to face your subjects? Hiding behind guards, giving orders, immune to the consequences? I have a complaint. I have several complaints.

An old woman is living in a box in Hyde Park, an innocent man is in prison, your trains don't run on time, there's a cracked paving stone on Denmark Street, Earth's magnetic field will reverse in four years' time and the corner shop has run out of rice pudding. There are children starving, animals suffering, women afraid to leave home and bombs poised to eradicate this planet and what are you you going to do about it?' He whirled and pointed his umbrella like an arrow. Jason recoiled. going to do about it?' He whirled and pointed his umbrella like an arrow. Jason recoiled.

'You can't blame me.'

'You're in charge, aren't you? You've ruled this country for forty-five minutes now and you haven't yet left your palace.

You are corrupt and indolent and you must be replaced!'

'That's enough!' Dr Who shouted. He was on his feet and the Acme blaster had appeared in his hands. He trained it on the Doctor's back, but his intended target didn't flinch. The 198 Doctor's eyes burnt into Jason's skull. Chris watched the frozen tableau and felt cold. There was so much he wanted to know, but he felt like he shouldn't draw their attention, like his merest whisper might bring disaster.

Ace was under no such constraints. 'Is that supposed to be a weapon?' she scoffed. 'It looks about as deadly as a dose of Molyneux's Radiation.'

'And half as amusing,' the Doctor said. He was concentrating on Jason. 'You did this in the Land of Fiction: put a storybook character on the throne and spoke through him. Are you afraid to confront me yourself?' The young man didn't answer.

'Dispense with your servant. This is between you and me.'

'He's not -'

'He's your creation. He does what you wish, what you don't have the courage to do yourself. If you can't find that courage, you'll never solve anything.' Jason flinched and the Doctor lowered his voice, speaking more kindly. 'Your heart isn't in this. You saved my life. You allowed the Queen to live, although your dark side wished to dispose of her. You know what's right and you don't need a comic strip clone to tell you otherwise. Stand up for yourself.'

Jason circled warily and the Doctor pivoted to follow him. He was still in the gun's sights. 'What do I do?'

'About what?'

'About anything.'

'Tell the shopkeeper to reorder.'

'What?'

'Rice pudding. One problem at a time.'

'You're the cause of our problems,' Dr Who interrupted. Our first step is to stop you from doing more harm.'

The Doctor directed his answer towards Jason. 'You shouldn't believe everything you absorb from the TARDIS databanks. Not until you have the maturity to interpret the information correctly.'

'If you're so good,' said Jason defensively, 'then why did you try to destroy Detrios?' Those words made Chris feel hollow.

He remembered Kat'lanna's face and he fought to hold down a 199 tide of misery.

'I wasn't trying to destroy it,' said the Doctor. 'The Detrians'

situation is of their own making; they have the technology to right it themselves.'

'How can you say that?' shouted Chris, without thinking. He fell silent as the Doctor turned his inscrutable eyes upon him.

Was there .a hint of surprise? A modic.u.m of hurt, that his trusted companion could challenge his word? d.a.m.n it, why did he he have to feel in the wrong? have to feel in the wrong?

The Time Lord resumed his explanation. 'The destruction of the crystal will not, in itself, doom the planet. It will simply return it to the situation it was in before all this began.'

'Which was?' Jason prompted.

'Desperate,' the Doctor admitted grimly.

'You mean they'll die?' piped up the red-haired stranger.

The Doctor glared at her, but unlike Chris, she was resolute.

'I mean they'll have to work to avoid extinction. And yes, the chances of their prolonging their existence are slim. But that problem already existed for them, its part of a natural pattern of growth and change. The fictional crystal is a stopgap solution which will have the side-effect of ending the universe. What would you have me do?'

Jason wasn't satisfied. 'Okay, but tell me why Earth's such a mess. You've visited often enough to do something.'

It was the Doctor's turn, evidently, to have a nerve hit. 'I couldn't expect you to understand,' he said. And he clearly hoped to leave it at that.

But the woman spoke again. 'You could try explaining!'

The Doctor shot her a filthy glance. Then he turned to Ace, who shrugged helplessly, and to Chris, who blushed and looked away. He felt he should lend support, give his friend the benefit of the doubt. But he wanted to hear the answer too much.

The Doctor took a deep breath and addressed them all, his tone subdued. 'I may be responsible for some of Earth's misfortunes. But then, I've saved your planet many, many times over. I've prevented invasions by Autons, Daleks, Cybermen and Axons, by Yeti and by renegade Time Lords. But the more 200 I meddle in your timestream, the more fixed it becomes and the more dangerous then is the slightest change to the established order. It becomes like solving a Rubik's cube, when to bring one piece into position means dislodging the others. Only this conundrum has no final solution. I must keep coming back, to guide things along the right path, to prevent the sort of historical anomaly which could bring the timelines crashing down.' He looked at them earnestly, each one in turn, as if begging them for their trust. 'You're all from Earth, but from different eras.

This is Jason's present, Mel's future, Chris's past. If we change things in 2001 then Chris might not be born in 2954. He wouldn't then be instrumental in changing things now and a disastrous time loop would result. Even if Time could straighten that out, mankind might find its destiny altered.'

'Destiny?' Ace echoed.

The Doctor was tight-lipped. 'Even I don't know what the far future holds. I'd hate to even speculate.'

'If you'd never come to Earth,' said Mel, cutting to the heart of the matter, 'would it have been better?'

'I honestly don't know,' he said with appealing helplessness.

'I believe not. I try my best.'

He bowed his head, as if awaiting judgement. Chris decided to believe him. Mel spoke first, in a tightly controlled voice.

'That still gives you no right to murder the Detrians.'

The Doctor ignored her. He looked at Jason. Chris glanced towards the throne and saw that Dr Who had gone. 'And what about you? Can you see that things aren't as simple as we'd like to believe?' He reached out, but Jason pulled away. The air fizzed and the Doctor s.n.a.t.c.hed his hand back. He blew on it and looked at Jason accusingly. 'Especially not when you possess such power.'

'I don't . . .'

'I thought you were taking responsibility. You do remember the Land of Fiction?'

'I remember a dream about witches and superheroes.'

'And you recognize the energies which fill you, even if you don't understand why they do. You know that the events of the 201 past two days have occurred because you wished them. Like the eradication of the planet Arcalis.' The young man seemed taken aback. The Doctor pressed his advantage. 'The TARDIS told me about that atrocity.'

'It was the Trods' fault.'

'You know that isn't true!' The Doctor's anger was showing again. 'You accuse me of unspeakable acts, yet you yourself killed the harmless singing plants of Arcalis and wiped out the lizard people of Detrios -'

'They were green,' Jason whimpered.

'And murdered how many tribesmen at the site of your so-called Galactic Prison? Because they got in your way!'

Jason's hand flew up to his mouth and he stifled a sob. The Doctor's face softened and he reached out again, not so close this time. 'You can't afford to play games with abilities like that. Come with me. I can make sure there are no more accidents.'

He left the proffered hand there for a second longer.

Two seconds. Three.

Then Jason reached for it.

And alarm sharpened the Doctor's features as he turned to the doors and whispered simply: 'Oh, no.'

Chris realized why in the next moment. He could hear footsteps: the tread of many boots on carpet, approaching.

For a moment, Jason didn't know what was happening. He sensed the worry rippling through his visitors and he backed away, fearing trickery. The power rose and demanded release but he quelled it, remembering the Doctor's words. He wanted to believe that the Doctor was right.

Then he heard the footsteps.

The Doctor had rushed to his side and was holding his shoulders. 'Stay calm,' he said, not heeding his own advice.

'Somebody's about to do something stupid, but I'll handle it.

Don't get excited, you aren't in any -'

The doors flew open and the Time Lord wrenched himself away, placing his own body between Jason and the soldiers who were suddenly everywhere. The black woman at their head 202 aimed a gun at the Doctor, but another - Forrester, he realized, her image familiar from the TARDIS database - knocked it aside. Not him!' She pointed at Jason and he knew she was going to kill him.

The Doctor was shouting, but Jason couldn't hear him clearly.