it?’
‘Well, no one’s interested in ancient history on Gallifrey any more,’ said the Professor. ‘And I thought that possibly certain things would be safer with me.’
‘And were they safer?’ boomed the Doctor. ‘In an unlocked room on a level five planet?’
‘Well, in principle,’ said the Professor. He sniffed and glanced over at the police box in the corner. ‘After all, I’m sure your TARDIS is safer with you, isn’t it? And you borrowed that from Gallifrey, didn’t you?’
The Doctor was quiet for a moment. Then he nodded, as if acknowledging a good point well made, and let out a huge sigh.
He draped an arm around the Professor’s shoulders. ‘Professor, that book dates back to the days of Rassilon.’
The Professor blinked owlishly. ‘Does it? Yes indeed, I suppose it does.’
‘It’s one of the Artefacts,’ continued the Doctor.
Romana reflected. The Artefacts were the mysterious objects left over from the days of the first Time Lords, their significance lost over the untold centuries. The Sash, the Rod, the Great Key – the Time Lords had an almost superstitious terror of these ancient relics, and stored them safely deep in the Panopticon, the grand ceremonial chamber at the heart of the Citadel.
‘Yes, I suppose now you mention it, it is one of the Artefacts, yes.’
‘Professor, you know that perfectly well!’ shouted the Doctor. ‘And you also know perfectly well that Rassilon had secrets and powers that even we don’t fully understand!’
Romana came forward and laid a hand on the Doctor’s arm. ‘Gently, Doctor.’
The Doctor shook his head. ‘Professor, you’ve been appallingly irresponsible. I thought I was appallingly irresponsible, but you’ve taken appalling irresponsibility on to a whole new level. You’ve no idea what might be hidden in that book.’
The Professor smiled. ‘Well then there’s not much chance of anyone else understanding it, is there?’
‘I only hope you’re right,’ said the Doctor. ‘We’d better find it, hadn’t we? Romana, little red book –’
Romana nodded. ‘Five by seven.’ She gave one final despairing glance at the mountains of books surrounding them, then set her jaw and began the search. A little red book…
The Professor’s voice drifted from the kitchen, where he had scurried to prepare more tea. ‘Then again, it could be green,’ he said.
The Doctor’s shoulders slumped. ‘And I usually like Saturdays,’ he said.
Chapter 13
SKAGRA ENTERED THE command deck of his Ship, the dead body of the human over his shoulder. He let it thump to the ground and then barked out an order. ‘Retain the outer vestments and then dispose of this carrion. Transpose it to the emergency generation annex.’
The body was immediately transposed away. In its place was the clothing it had worn, now cleaned, pressed and folded into a neat pile.
Skagra considered. It was time to absorb the nutrients that were essential to the functioning of his body. He viewed this prospect with no particular pleasure. Taste sensations were essentially animal and had no inherent intellectual worth. When the time came, Skagra reflected, he would not miss food.
‘Feed me,’ he ordered.
A golden serving trolley was instantly transposed to his side. It was laden with the finest and most nutritionally correct delicacies that the Ship’s raw-matter synthesiser could provide.
Skagra set down the carpet bag containing the sphere and lowered himself onto his command lounger. Another diktat of the body needed to be satisfied. ‘Rest me,’ he commanded.
He closed his eyes and let the bio-tranquillic vibrations do their work. The rays bathed his neural pathways, cleansing the need for wasteful sleep from his brain. At the same time his body was pummelled by minute, invisible pressures that wiped harmful toxins from his muscles and removed waste matter.
Skagra opened his eyes, instantly refreshed and revitalised. He selected a fruit from the
‘Well, no one’s interested in ancient history on Gallifrey any more,’ said the Professor. ‘And I thought that possibly certain things would be safer with me.’
‘And were they safer?’ boomed the Doctor. ‘In an unlocked room on a level five planet?’
‘Well, in principle,’ said the Professor. He sniffed and glanced over at the police box in the corner. ‘After all, I’m sure your TARDIS is safer with you, isn’t it? And you borrowed that from Gallifrey, didn’t you?’
The Doctor was quiet for a moment. Then he nodded, as if acknowledging a good point well made, and let out a huge sigh.
He draped an arm around the Professor’s shoulders. ‘Professor, that book dates back to the days of Rassilon.’
The Professor blinked owlishly. ‘Does it? Yes indeed, I suppose it does.’
‘It’s one of the Artefacts,’ continued the Doctor.
Romana reflected. The Artefacts were the mysterious objects left over from the days of the first Time Lords, their significance lost over the untold centuries. The Sash, the Rod, the Great Key – the Time Lords had an almost superstitious terror of these ancient relics, and stored them safely deep in the Panopticon, the grand ceremonial chamber at the heart of the Citadel.
‘Yes, I suppose now you mention it, it is one of the Artefacts, yes.’
‘Professor, you know that perfectly well!’ shouted the Doctor. ‘And you also know perfectly well that Rassilon had secrets and powers that even we don’t fully understand!’
Romana came forward and laid a hand on the Doctor’s arm. ‘Gently, Doctor.’
The Doctor shook his head. ‘Professor, you’ve been appallingly irresponsible. I thought I was appallingly irresponsible, but you’ve taken appalling irresponsibility on to a whole new level. You’ve no idea what might be hidden in that book.’
The Professor smiled. ‘Well then there’s not much chance of anyone else understanding it, is there?’
‘I only hope you’re right,’ said the Doctor. ‘We’d better find it, hadn’t we? Romana, little red book –’
Romana nodded. ‘Five by seven.’ She gave one final despairing glance at the mountains of books surrounding them, then set her jaw and began the search. A little red book…
The Professor’s voice drifted from the kitchen, where he had scurried to prepare more tea. ‘Then again, it could be green,’ he said.
The Doctor’s shoulders slumped. ‘And I usually like Saturdays,’ he said.
Chapter 13
SKAGRA ENTERED THE command deck of his Ship, the dead body of the human over his shoulder. He let it thump to the ground and then barked out an order. ‘Retain the outer vestments and then dispose of this carrion. Transpose it to the emergency generation annex.’
The body was immediately transposed away. In its place was the clothing it had worn, now cleaned, pressed and folded into a neat pile.
Skagra considered. It was time to absorb the nutrients that were essential to the functioning of his body. He viewed this prospect with no particular pleasure. Taste sensations were essentially animal and had no inherent intellectual worth. When the time came, Skagra reflected, he would not miss food.
‘Feed me,’ he ordered.
A golden serving trolley was instantly transposed to his side. It was laden with the finest and most nutritionally correct delicacies that the Ship’s raw-matter synthesiser could provide.
Skagra set down the carpet bag containing the sphere and lowered himself onto his command lounger. Another diktat of the body needed to be satisfied. ‘Rest me,’ he commanded.
He closed his eyes and let the bio-tranquillic vibrations do their work. The rays bathed his neural pathways, cleansing the need for wasteful sleep from his brain. At the same time his body was pummelled by minute, invisible pressures that wiped harmful toxins from his muscles and removed waste matter.
Skagra opened his eyes, instantly refreshed and revitalised. He selected a fruit from the
Similar Books
