Doctor Who_ Warmonger Part 22

'Well,' he thought, 'so far so good...'

Unbidden, the ever-present worry surfaced in his mind.

What had happened to Peri?

Interlude (I).

'I was picked up by a s.p.a.ce freighter on the third day,' said Peri. 'They were returning empty to Sylvana after delivering a cargo of vegetables to a nearby planet.'

She was sitting in the Supremo's luxurious state room recounting her adventures. Freshly bathed and gowned, she was at the coffee and liqueur stage of a lavish gourmet meal, served by silent, soft-footed orderlies. Quite clearly, nothing was too good for the Supremo.

Opposite her sat the Supremo himself, stern-faced and immaculate in his black uniform, close-cropped fair hair gleaming in the light of the glow bulbs. An apologetic aide entered with an urgent despatch. The Supremo studied it, dictated a brief order into the aide's com-unit and waved the man away, turning his attention back to Peri.

'You were doubly lucky,' he said briefly. 'Lucky Morbius believed your story, lucky to get picked up. What happened next?'

'They were pretty decent guys on the s.p.a.ce freighter,' said Peri. 'Agricultural types, young farmers and market traders. I told them I'd been kidnapped by s.p.a.ce pirates and managed to escape. They took me to Sylvana with them, to the capital city that's called Sylvana as well. They even took up a collection for me, so I had a few local credits to get started. I went to the authorities and got temporary citizenship papers as a refugee. I tried to contact Karn to let you know I was still alive, but they said galactic war had broken out and all communications were disrupted. Anyway, I couldn't get through.'

'So what did you do?'

'I settled down on Sylvana. There didn't seem to be any alternative. I found myself a room, got a work permit, got a job as a waitress in a cafe, made friends. Some of the s.p.a.ce-freighter crew kept in touch I had several chances to be a farmer's wife.'

'What about the war?'

'Didn't seem to affect us,' said Peri. 'Sylvana's pretty remote.

Pretty inward-looking as well. They worry more about the bean crop than about galactic politics. Occasionally we heard about great s.p.a.ce battles and devastated planets, but it didn't seem to have much to do with us. I kept expecting to hear about the General, but they said all the trouble was caused by someone called Morbius.'

'Same difference. The war caught up with you, eventually?'

Peri nodded. 'After about a year. Suddenly the s.p.a.ceships landed and we were occupied. It was a walkover: Sylvana's got no kind of army. Everything changed after that.'

'How?'

'Sylvana used to be kind of a relaxed and happy place. Slow and easy-going. Now, suddenly everyone was afraid. The occupying power took over the farms and ran them as military collectives. People were drafted for forced labour. All political activity and discussion was banned. People got beaten up, one of my friends was raped. Anyone who argued simply disappeared.'

Peri paused. 'I didn't like it.'

'All the same, you were lucky, Peri triply lucky. Sylvana was invaded by the regular army of a fairly civilised planet called Freedonia. Morbius persuaded Freedonia to form an alliance with him. As occupying armies go, theirs wasn't too bad. If you'd had Morbius's usual gang of Gaztaks...'

'I still didn't like it,' said Peri.

'So you got involved?'

'One day in the cafe I heard a bunch of half-a.s.sed revolutionaries planning to ambush an arms hovertruck. It was a lousy plan and I told them so. So they said if I'd got a better idea and I had.' Peri shrugged. 'After that, one thing kind of led to another...'

'According to my intelligence people, you built yourself quite a reputation.'

'I seemed to have a talent for the work. I've changed, Doctor...' She paused for a moment and then went on. 'We did quite a bit of damage in our time, but gradually they started to run us down. Mine was the last active group, and I got them all killed. They were going to shoot me when your soldiers turned up, gave me the red carpet treatment and whizzed me off here.'

The Supremo nodded. 'I issued instructions to my Intelligence staff that you were to be searched for on every planet we took. It was all I could do, I was pretty busy at the time.'

'All right, Doctor,' said Peri. 'That's the story of how I became the bandit queen. But that's small stuff. Suppose you tell me how you became the Lord High Panjandrum.'

'The same as with you, Peri, one thing led to another.' He paused, gathering his memories of what seemed like another life.

'It all started on Karn, just after you were kidnapped. I decided that the Time Lords had to be told what had happened on Karn, but there were reasons why I didn't want to go as myself. So I got myself appointed Amba.s.sador and went to Gallifrey to warn them about Morbius...'

Chapter Seventeen.

Trapped The Doctor sat waiting in a small, ornately decorated conference room in the Panopticon. Unsurprisingly, he had been waiting for some time. The length of the wait would be precisely timed to demonstrate just how unimportant he was to the Time Lord hierarchy.

He studied his reflection in an ornately framed mirror, wondering if his disguise would be sufficient. There were the ornate clothes, of course they made a surprising difference.

Apart from that, his fair hair had been cropped brutally short, and a designer drug, provided by Commander Hawken's intelligence department, had darkened his normally fresh complexion. Hawken had a.s.sured him that the effect would fade eventually unless he took a fresh dose.

But the real changes were internal. The Doctor believed that disguise wasn't a matter of wigs and false noses, but of becoming becoming the new character you were taking on. the new character you were taking on.

He sat rigidly upright in the ornately uncomfortable chair, the mildest hint of suppressed resentment on his face. The High Amba.s.sador of Karn would be unused to being kept waiting. He would also be an expert at concealing his feelings.

At last he heard the tramp of feet in the corridors outside the ante-room. He heard the ritual chant of, 'Make way for the Lord President,' coming from the Captain of the Presidential Guard.

The double doors were flung open and two gaudily uniformed Presidential Guardsmen marched in, taking up positions on either side of the door.

Two contrasting figures appeared in the doorway. One was a tall, white-haired old man in presidential robes. The other, considerably younger, was a slighter, sharp-faced man in the robes of a Junior Cardinal.

Unhurriedly, the Doctor rose and bowed. 'I am the Lord High Amba.s.sador of Karn.'

The old man said, 'I am President Saran.' Conscientiously he added, 'Acting President to be precise. This is my adviser, Junior Cardinal Borusa.'

The Doctor nodded coldly, but his mind was racing. Saran he remembered vaguely as a very minor figure in Time Lord history. But Borusa! One of the greatest Time Lords of all. A future President with whose fate the Doctor was was to be closely linked. But thanks to the paradoxes of time travel, this was a different Borusa, perhaps in his first incarnation.

A very different Borusa, sensed the Doctor, at the beginning of his long and distinguished career. A Borusa with the ferocious ambition that he had always had, but with none of the wisdom and benevolence he had later acquired.

Borusa and the Doctor had a long and complicated relationship stretching over many incarnations. An older Borusa, grown in years and wisdom, had been a younger Doctor's tutor at the Academy. .

For a moment the Doctor felt almost hurt that Borusa didn't recognise him despite his disguise. But, of course, as far as Borusa was concerned, they were meeting for the very first time!

The President waved the Doctor back to his seat, and he and Borusa took their places at the circular conference table.

'I understand that you wish to consult us on a matter of some urgency,' said Saran.

The Doctor glanced towards the guards beside the door.

'The matter is not only urgent, but extremely confidential.'

'The members of the Presidential Guard,' began Saran.

'Have friends and relatives and tongues,' said the Doctor.

Saran looked at Borusa, who waved the guards away.

They stamped indignantly out, slamming the double doors behind them.

The Doctor pa.s.sed his scrolls across the table. 'My credentials.'

He sat back, waiting as Saran studied them, pa.s.sing each one in turn to Borusa. Besides his doc.u.ments of accreditation, the scrolls contained a letter from Lord Delmar, requesting the Time Lords to give full and serious consideration to his Amba.s.sador's message.

Borusa put the last of the scrolls aside without comment.

'In what way do the affairs of Karn concern us?'

Knowing his fellow Time Lords, the Doctor decided to start by appealing to their self-interest.

'The affairs of Karn concern you very closely. Karn is the home of the Temple of the Flame, the only source of the Elixir of Life and that source is endangered.'

'We do not depend on the Elixir,' said Saran loftily.

'Perhaps not,' said the Doctor. 'But you are more than pleased to make use of it in emergencies. In cases of aborted bodily regeneration, it's the only effective treatment. Why else did you sign the Treaty of Ra.s.silon offering the Sisterhood your protection in return for a steady supply?'

'You know a great deal about our affairs, Amba.s.sador,' said Borusa.

'I know what is necessary to perform my duty,' snapped the Doctor. 'That duty is to inform you that the Elixir, the Hospice of Karn and the entire galaxy are all in danger and that the responsibility is yours and yours alone.'

'You are insolent,' said Saran furiously. 'We will not tolerate '

Borusa interrupted the tirade. 'With respect, Lord President, I think we should at least listen to the Amba.s.sador's message.'

He turned to the Doctor. 'These are grave charges, Amba.s.sador.

Can you substantiate them?'

'If I may be allowed to,' said the Doctor. 'Preferably without interruption.'

Saran glared, Borusa nodded, and the Doctor went on with his exposition.

'Some time ago, a renegade calling himself General Rombusi asked permission to hold a peace conference on Karn.

Generously, Lord Delmar agreed, and in due course the General arrived with his delegates. However, Commander Hawken, Lord Delmar's security chief, was suspicious, as I was myself. Our investigations established the General's true purpose or rather purposes in coming to Karn. One was to hold not a peace conference but a council of war, with the aim of plunging the galaxy into conflict. The second was to raid the Temple of the Flame and steal all available supplies of the Elixir.'

'And did he succeed?' asked Saran.

'No. We were able to frustrate his plan. But the General escaped, threatening to return with an army. Before he left, he revealed his true ident.i.ty.'

'Which was?' asked Borusa impatiently.

'I think you already know,' said the Doctor. 'His name is Morbius.'

Neither Saran nor Borusa reacted. Suddenly the Doctor realised the truth.

'You described yourself as Acting President, my lord,' he went on.

Saran inclined his head. 'An election is impending. Once all the arrangements have been made, I shall hope to ratify my position.' He glanced ironically at Borusa. 'Others also have hopes.'

Ignoring the byplay, the Doctor said, 'The appointment of an Acting President suggests an emergency the sudden departure of the existing President, perhaps?' He paused. 'Of President Morbius?'

'Ex-President Morbius,' said Borusa. 'We deposed him.'

'May I ask why?'

It was Saran who replied. 'He had certain plans plans which ran contrary to all Time Lord tradition.'

'Such as taking over the galaxy?'

'Something like that.'

'So you deposed him,' said the Doctor. 'And?'

Borusa shrugged. 'We sent him into exile.'

'You mean you turned him loose,' said the Doctor bitterly.

'Turned him loose to wreck the galaxy. Did you really expect someone like Morbius to retire and cultivate his garden?

Someone with ferocious vanity and the powers to make his mad dreams of conquest come true.'

'Surely you exaggerate, Amba.s.sador,' protested Saran. 'It is true that Morbius attempted to lead our Time Lord race into paths of conquest, but we rejected him. What can he possibly do on his own?'

'A great deal,' said the Doctor grimly. 'Don't you realise?

He's an incredibly charismatic leader, and a military genius as well. By the time he came to Karn he'd already taken over a handful of frontier planets. By now he'll have conquered more.

He threatened to come back to Karn with an army, and he meant what he said. He's got to be stopped. Or one day you'll find him on your doorstep, with most of the thugs and killers in the galaxy behind him.'

Saran and Borusa looked at each other, slowly realising the size of the problem they faced.