Some hours later, the Doctor had just about restored his TARDIS from the damages of his travels, but there was still no word on the Brigadier’s condition. He stepped out of his laboratory, intending to visit, when he bumped into Liz about to walk into the laboratory. The Doctor grinned.
‘Am I coming for you, or are you coming for me?’ he said cheerfully. His face became more sombre as he took in the serious look on Liz’s face. ‘Still no improvement?’
Liz shook her head. ‘All his vital signs are fine. He just can’t seem to wake up. It’s like nothing they have ever seen before.’
The Doctor pursed his lips.
‘That venom was like nothing ever seen before. Oh well. We better see what we can do for him.’
The Brigadier was lying very pale and peaceful on his bed, eyes tight shut, seemingly oblivious to the world around him. The doctor picked up his medical records while Liz spoke quietly to the attending medical officer. No change had been reported, and there was little hope of the Brigadier waking any time soon.
The Doctor scratched his ear vexedly. ‘That’s a tad awkward Liz,’ he said confidingly, ‘I was rather counting on the Brigadier to sign off on some new equipment. I have no idea who to ask in his absence.’
‘New equipment …’ the Brigadier mumbled drowsily.
The Doctor and Liz spun around in startled excitement.
The still sleeping Brigadier licked his dry lips, then sat bolt upright, and demanded ‘New equipment? What in blazes makes you think I will buy you new equipment?’
Liz laughed in delighted surprise, overjoyed to see the Brigadier awake, and amused to see the Doctor somewhat put out.
‘But my dear chap!’ the Doctor protested, ‘The TARDIS is so close to being fixed …’
‘Close to being fixed?’ the Brigadier snorted. He suddenly took in his surroundings. ‘What the devil am I doing in the medical unit?’
The Doctor opened his mouth, but the Brigadier held up a restraining hand. ‘No. Don’t tell me Doctor. I don’t remember much before my sleep, but I do remember you causing some sort of loud bang in my headquarters just before I lost consciousness.’
Ignoring the protests of the medical officer, the Brigadier swung himself out of his bed, and stood up.
‘Well understand this,’ he said firmly, ‘If you believe for one minute I am credulous enough to believe that pestilential machine is capable of moving one single inch, or that you will do anything other than blow up my headquarters, you are very much mistaken! You are not getting so much as a new stapler from me until you curb your enthusiasm for explosions!’
Mustering as much dignity as the circumstances would permit, the Brigadier marched from the room, the medical officer still flapping around him in protest. Liz looked bemusedly at the Doctor.
‘He remembers nothing?’ she asked incredulously, ‘Nothing at all? Not even that the TARDIS travelled all the way across the known universe?’ The Doctor smiled gently. ‘On the whole, perhaps it is for the best Liz. He has enough difficulty comprehending the day-to-day business of UNIT. There’s no need to make him anxious about the rest of the cosmos!’
*
Epilogue
The High Council of the Time Lords was definitely not meeting. No meeting had been called, no minutes were being kept, and every member would swear on oath and record that they had been somewhere else at this very moment in the time band.
Nevertheless, almost every member of the High Council just happened to be gathered in the quarters of the Chancellor at the same time, and discussion was happening. They just weren’t discussing anything they would wish to be put on record.
‘You say his time capsule actually left the planet?’ asked one Cardinal in horror, ‘But we were assured his exile would be absolute! What kind of example are we setting to others if known felons can simply gallivant off anywhere any time they please?’
The Chancellor was beginning to regret inviting the council around for this off the record discussion. With the exception of some sharp junior senators such as Borusa and Goth, they were uniformly shrill and over excitable.
‘As I have told you before Cardinal,’ he said smoothly, ‘This was an extraordinary event beyond even the powers of Time Lords …’
‘Nothing is beyond the powers of Time Lords,’ injected one younger Cardinal, and there were mutterings and nods of agreement. The Chancellor was pleased to notice more reticence from the older members of the Council, who were much more aware how fragile the supposed omnipotence of their race was.
‘Let me repeat,’ he said authoritatively, ‘That ultimately no harm was done, and the Doctor has been returned to his proper place in exile. While we have suspicions what enabled the Doctor to travel, we have no proof and so …’
‘Suspicions?’ snorted the young Cardinal, ‘What good are suspicions Chancellor, if our very power is scorned and undermined? What are you actually going to do about it?’
‘That was exactly the question that I was going to ask.’
The voice had come from the doorway. A tall, lean Time Lord with stern august features stood there, regaled in robes of white, a golden sash about his torso. There were several gasps, and hurried whispers.
‘My Lord President,’ said the young Cardinal obsequiously, ‘We had no idea you were attending …’
‘He was not officially made aware,’ said the Chancellor curtly. He was not at all pleased that the President was here. The role was largely a ceremonial one, and the latest President had been chosen for his lack of ambition or original thought, after two millennia of internecine squabbling among the great houses. The Chancellor had privately hoped that he could sweep all of this under the carpet with nobody any the wiser.
‘A wise precaution to be sure,’ said the President gravely, ‘But it seems nevertheless that there is disagreement in the Council?’
He paused for effect. With gritted teeth, the Chancellor had to concede that the fool knew how to work an audience, even if he had long since forgotten something as elementary as how to work a TARDIS.
‘Nothing concerning my Lord President,’ he began soothingly, ‘A small matter, but the Doctor is now back on Earth where he belongs.’
‘And yet,’ interrupted the President, ‘It seems that this “felon” has achieved a great deal of good during this temporary lapse in his exile?’
The Council looked at each other in bewilderment. This was new.
‘Certainly the outcome was preferable than if no one had interfered,’ agreed the Chancellor cautiously, ‘But nevertheless sir …’
‘So I put it to you, dear friends,’ said the President with a tolerant smile, ‘That we should absolutely make sure the Doctor serves out his full sentence of exile. But … there is no reason why we cannot make use of his skills … unofficially.’
A furious babble of mutters and whispers broke out. The Chancellor looked for a moment like he would choke with apoplexy.
‘Unofficially!’ he hissed wrathfully, ‘But sir! The cardinal rule of the Time Lords is that we never interfere in the affairs of others!’
‘Seldom interfere,’ corrected the President with a raised finger. ‘Don’t misunderstand me Chancellor. I am not ordering you to go out and find things for the Doctor to do. I am merely suggesting that where, from time to time, there are things that we need to have sorted out … perhaps it would be useful to have someone who we could deny having ever sent in the first place?’
A stunned silence met this suggestion.
‘After all,’ added the President genially, ‘If his latest work is anything to judge by, it would seem that we have a willing asset on our hands, who would be only too glad for an occasional change of scenery.’
The Chancellor knew that he had lost. The moment the President had decided this was his pet project, he wouldn’t hear the end of it unless he made it happen.
‘Very well sir,’ he said flatly, ‘I will make the necessary arrangements.’
‘Oh capital!’ beamed the President warmly. ‘I knew I could count on you. I am so pleased that I wasn’t invited to this meeting that never happened.’
On that note, he left the room. The Chancellor glumly conceded that the fool also knew how to make an exit.
If the Chancellor had second sight, he would have been surprised to see what happened next.
Ostensibly, the Lord President of the Time Lords was walking back to his quarters. A short distance later, he ducked into a small culvert, just before another figure rounded the corner to walk down this very corner. A figure who looked exactly the same as the Lord President, and who was talking animatedly to a guard.
‘What do you mean the Master has vanished?’ the new President demanded of the guard.
‘Our agents tracked him as far as planet Watlin my lord,’ the guard replied, ‘But we lost all trace of him there.’
‘Planet Watlin,’ the President mused, ‘The last known colony of the Nestene Consciousness before they sought new breeding grounds on the planet Earth.’
‘Precisely my lord,’ nodded the guard energetically. ‘It’s not proof sir, but …’
‘It seems most likely that the Master’s next stop will be Earth.’ said the President, finishing the thought. ‘Very well, I must find the Chancellor and tell him that we will need to warn the Doctor.’
The President marched away with the guard. A short time later, the figure of the other President emerged from the culvert, and as he did so his features seemed to shimmer and glow, until his face had changed, and was unmistakably that of the White Guardian.
He began to fade into nothingness, and as he did so said with a gentle smile ‘Never let it be said Doctor, that I am without compassion for lost souls.’
Dan Talks Doctor Who 