I don't care if you won't talk to me you know I'm not that kind of girl
I don't care if you won't walk with me it don't give me such a thrill
I don't care about the way you look you should know I'm not impressed
Cuz there's just one thing that I'm looking for and he don't wear a dress.
--The Eurythmics
Chapter 2: LOOKING
Garner Jass sighed as the elevator slid downward in the complex. He
hated this part of his job, but it was necessary if the work was to go forward.
The door opened into a dark prison-like basement that contrasted sharply
with the understated, reassuring decor in the rest of the complex. Garner
stepped out into the small foyer area which was only large enough to hold a
single desk behind which was seated the jailer. Beyond her station yawned the
double row of cells. Garner could hear the rustlings and small sounds of the
cells' occupants, who were in fact the reason for his trip to this godforsaken
dungeon.
"Oh, hello, Garner," said the jailer brightly. Garner did not return her
sunny smile.
"Hello, Ruth. He needs another one."
Ruth stood up and took a clipboard down from the wall. She looked at it
for a moment, blowing air through her teeth. "Good Lord, that's the fourth one
in two weeks." She glanced up at him. "It's getting faster, isn't it?"
Garner nodded. "It's becoming harder and harder for him to keep his
bodies intact. His ability to successfully transfer himself is fading, I'm afraid."
"I imagine the pressure is mounting up there."
"You have no idea," Garner said grimly.
"Well, I must say we're running short on humanoid males. Take the one in
7C today."
"Fine," Garner said shortly, taking the keys from Ruth's hand and starting
down the cellblock. He reached cell 7C and looked through the bars into the
haunted eyes of a human male of about 30 with red hair and a scraggly beard.
Garner unlocked the cell, reached in and grasped the man's arm. There was no
need for handcuffs, the grip of Garner's mechanical right hand was strong
enough to prevent the man's escape...not that there was anywhere for him to
go. He led the man out of the cellblock, tossing Ruth her keys on the way out,
and pulled him into the elevator, using his own key to raise them to the
uppermost floor of the complex where the laboratory was located.
"Where are you taking me?" the man asked shakily.
"To the laboratory," Garner replied, not looking at him.
"Then you're taking me to my death," the man said, a trace of steel in his
voice.
Garner glanced at him. This one had a bit of fire left in him. Most
subjects didn't. "Not the kind you're thinking of."
The man turned to look up into Garner's ice blue eyes, a pleading
expression on his face. "They say you are decent," he whispered. "They say
you have a heart...that you have mercy. Please, spare me!"
Garner looked away, his jaw tightening. "It is not for me to say...and it is
not I who require your help." The elevator stopped moving and the doors slid
open into a huge well-equipped laboratory. Its high ceiling was glassed in and
looked out into the orange-tinted atmosphere, giving everything in the room a
sickly warm tinge. Garner led the man around several tables piled with
equipment to where a figure huddled over a worktable, peering into a
microscope. It turned, and the doomed man recoiled. The figure's face was
decaying, its flesh sagging and its eyes dim and glassy. It shuffled forward.
"This is the one?" it asked of Garner, its voice like watery gravel.
"Yes," Garner said, jerking the man forward. The hunched figure
extended a hand, its eyes fixing the man's with a penetrating gaze he could not
look away from.
"Come closer," the figure rasped. The man started forward. Garner
released his arm...no more restraint would be necessary.
The man's head and shoulders shook. "I...I will resist you," he managed.
The figure chuckled, a low gurgling sound. "You cannot resist me. You are
but a tool which will help give me the life I have been cheated out of. You will
submit...you will obey me, for I am the Master!"
Romana ran down the corridor towards Ace's room, her hearts racing, the
horrible scream still ringing in her ears. As she rounded the corner it came
again...shrill and bone-chilling, the unchecked scream of someone unaware they
were screaming. She burst into Ace's room as the cry tapered off. Ace was
curled into a fetal position on her side, visibly shaking. Romana rushed to the
bed and sat down on it, drawing Ace partially onto her lap and wrapping her
arms around her friend...every muscle in Ace's body was clenched. She was
still mostly asleep, her arms wrapped around her abdomen. When she felt
Romana's touch she began speaking in that muddled sleep-language spoken only
by restless dreamers.
"No...no..." she muttered. "Get away...oh no...not him... NOT HIM..." Her
head whipped from side to side as she cried out unintelligibly. Romana shook
her.
"Ace! Ace! Wake up!"
After a few seconds of shaking Ace snapped awake. She sat up quickly,
pushing away from Romana, her eyes wide.
"Romana...was I...did you..."
"You were having another nightmare," Romana said soothingly. "Can you
remember it?"
Ace's hands rose to her face. "It was the same," she said, her eyes
clenching shut. "Always the same..."
"Tell me," Romana said urgently. Ace had never told her what she saw in
her nightmares.
Ace's chest heaved. "Darkness, a figure in the shadows. It...it has a
knife. Mostly it's faceless, but sometimes...sometimes it looks like Seth or the
Master or just someone who wants to hurt me. But..." She dropped her hands
and stared past Romana. "It's not me it's after. It wants to hurt her. It wants
to take her away." Ace drew a shaky breath and drew her knees up to her
chest, rocking herself.
"It's never been this bad before, Ace. You've never screamed like that."
"Sometimes in my dreams as the figure comes towards me, I run away or
I drive it off. Sometimes..." She smiled vaguely. "Sometimes he comes and
chases it away. But this time...this time the figure bore his face." She looked
up at Romana with haunted eyes. "It was him."
Romana opened and closed her mouth. "Oh, Ace..." she said softly. Ace
let out a rattling sigh and then, to Romana's surprise, lay down with her head in
Romana's lap like a frightened child. Romana smoothed her hair and rocked her.
This one must have really struck a chord.
"I can still see it," Ace whispered. "Every time I shut my eyes...will
these dreams ever stop? Why do I keep having them?"
"I don't know," Romana said. "Perhaps it's just an effect of the changes
you're going through. Hormones can do funny things to the human body."
"Something awful is going to happen," Ace said with low certainty.
"Don't say that, nothing bad will happen. It's just your mind trying to sort
things out, it doesn't mean anything."
Ace sighed again and said nothing, but Romana didn't feel as though she'd
reassured her very much. After a few minutes Ace fell asleep again. Romana
drew the blankets up around her and sat down in an armchair next to the
bed...for some reason she didn't want to leave her alone again.
"Cynthia, could you put the yams on that trivet? They'll scorch the
countertop."
"Yams, ugh. It's a vegetable and we put marhsmallows on it? What's up
with that?"
"It's an old marketing ploy to get kids to eat them," said Beatrice, coming
into the kitchen bearing a large Tupperware container of frozen cranberry
sherbet. "Hence we get candied yams, sugar carrots, and so forth."
The front door banged open and a rush of cold air swept through the
hallway. Uncle Jack came in stamping his feet. "Theo, will you please turn
Greg's car into a tricycle? He blocked me in again." This question was met
with delighted squeals from the assorted young cousins who would have liked
nothing better than to see Uncle Greg's car turned into a tricycle.
"Oh, Jack, be reasonable."
"Well at least lift it out of the way for me. I have to make an emergency
beer run."
"Here's a novel thought...get Greg's keys and move the damned car
yourself!" Theo said, grinning.
"That's no fun. What good is it having an omnipotent niece if she won't
even move heavy things for you?" He grumbled his way over to his brother,
retrieved the car keys and grumbled his way back out the front door. Theo
wandered into the kitchen.
"That turkey smells heavenly, Mom."
"Doesn't it? You'll never guess how much it weighs...30 pounds!"
"Egads. Plenty of sandwiches later...but then, that's the best part."
Beatrice opened the oven door to peer at the bird in question, smiling up at
her daughter. "Seriously, though, you might be a dear and get it out of the oven
for me. Spare my back?" she said innocently.
Theo shook her head, smiling. "Don't you guys ever get tired of watching
me do parlor tricks?" She motioned her mother back and shot a glance at the
mammoth turkey, which obediently slid out of the oven and floated onto the
countertop.
Cynthia's eyes widened. She was a more distant cousin who was spending
Thanksgiving with the merry Theodorakis clan because she was attending
college nearby, and she didn't really know Theo that well. "Wow. Mom told me
that you didn't like doing stuff like that...against your principles or something."
Theo smiled and slung an arm around her younger cousin's shoulders and
walked with her back into the living room. "I avoid flexing my muscles as a
rule, true. I have to safeguard my identity most of the time, but around my
family there's no harm in a few little favors. I may as well enjoy the small
perks of my job...Lord knows I pay a high enough price for them." There was a
knock at the door. Beatrice went to answer it. "Cynthia, I can't interfere with
people's normal lives or use my...abilities to change the course of everday
events. But that doesn't mean that I can't from time to time lift a turkey for
my mother or jumpstart someone's car for them."
"Theo?" Beatrice called, coming into the living room followed by a tall
figure. "Um...Angel's here." Angel stepped into the light, his face serious.
"Excuse me," Theo said, her game face sliding over her features. She
walked over, took Angel's arm and steered him into the deserted front parlor
away from her family, who couldn't help but stare after her.
"What's going on? I'm trying to have a normal holiday here."
"I'm sorry, but I thought you'd want to know right away."
Theo's brow creased. "Know about what?"
"I just got some information about the Master that you'll find interesting."
"When it's the Master I'd expect no less than fascinating," she muttered.
"He's set up a lab on Ceres Beta, time index 789231."
"Hardly a vacation spot."
"I don't think he's interested in relaxation. He's commandeered a large
portion of the laboratoy space and virtually the entire staff of the colony's
science complex to help him, and they seem to have quite a taste for the work."
"I'm not surprised. That settlement loves to cause trouble but they
usually get to it without any outside assistance."
"What's going on there?"
"It's an Earth colony, settled in the forty fifth century by a large group of
mostly scientists, some expatriated separatists, radical in the extreme.
Human experimentation, torture studies, the works. They ran their labs like
concentration camps and kidnapped hundreds or even thousands of people as test
subjects."
"Technologically advanced?"
"Not so's you'd notice. By that time humans had collapsed back to about
early 21st century levels on most of their colonies, including this one. If I
recall correctly some of the Ceres Betans were repeating the work of Mengele
and even going so far as to experiment on their own bodies."
"Sounds like just the sort that the Master would love to hook up with."
"The Doctor's the real expert. I believe he's been there. What else have
you heard? Don't tell me Seth..."
"Miryam's not sure if he's involved or not. It would be a bit hard for him
to resist, though."
"Indeed." Theo sighed and thought for a moment. "Do we have a plant in
that colony?"
"Not to my knowledge."
"I want someone placed there, just to watch. I don't much care what the
Master's up to, I just want to know if Seth's pulling his strings."
"Understood." He smiled at her. "Better get back before your turkey gets
cold." She punched him on the arm playfully and returned to the warm family
room. Beatrice handed her a Tom & Jerry to drink and soon Jack had her
laughing with one of his latest golf stories, Ceres Beta retreating to another
part of her mind.
Garner slowly backed away. He hated this part, and it got more difficult
every time. He stared, unable to take his eyes off the sight, as the Master
drew the prisoner closer to him. When the two figures were mere inches apart
the Master hunched himself up in the posture Garner recognized...he was
marshaling his mental forces to transfer his consciousness into a fresh body.
Garner shut his eyes and waited for the cry from the prisoner that signaled the
death of his soul as the Master pushed aside all remnants of the man's identity
to make room for himself. He waited, praying that this time the Master would
not need his assistance. The last few times the process had required
facilitation by the artron generator. The Master's powers of transference,
leftover from a distant incarnation long since discarded, faded more each time
he used them. It was becoming plain to just about everyone in the complex save
the Master himself that the work would never be completed before he
exhausted his ability to maintain his corporeality. He would die before he could
find a way to save himself, it was achingly obvious...but no one quite dared
broach the subject. The Master's growing desperation made him an even more
dangerous man than he had been before.
The pause stretched out interminably. Garner sighed inwardly and started
towards the artron generator. If he could do it himself he would've done it by
now.
"Jass!" came the inevitable anguished cry. "The generator!"
Garner was already there, unwinding the leads and starting up the coils.
"Yes, Master, I'm coming." He came around the table where the Master's gaze
was locked with the paralyzed prisoner's. The Master's jaw was clenched
fiercely with the effort, but he could not work up the energy to transfer
himself. If he had ever possessed the full powers of the Keepership, as he
claimed to have, they were all but gone. Garner bent over the Master's
quivering form, affixing the leads from the generator to his temples. He
stepped back to the generator, flicked the switch and turned his back,
determined that this time he wasn't going to watch.
He heard the artron energy crackling along the wire leads...the generator
had been cobbled together from spare parts using blueprints out of the Master's
less-than-photographic memory and was probably not exactly up to factory
specs, but it had worked fine so far despite being rather noisy and smoky.
Garner waited for the prisoner's cry again, which would be followed by the
Master speaking with his new voice...probably telling him to clear away the
debris of his previous body. The generator coils cycled higher and higher,
working themselves up to a fever to supply the necessary power. Garner's
brow furrowed...the coils were cycling faster than they usually did. He turned
towards the Master and sucked in a startled breath. The Master's entire body
was fiercely clenched and he had the prisoner's head grasped between his
palms...usually all that was required was a touch of the index fingers. Both
men wore fearful grimaces, and the prisoner's eyeballs were rolled up in his
sockets. He realized that the Master was trying to say something but his jaw
would not unclench. Something wasn't right. Garner took a step towards them,
not sure what he intended to do, when suddenly the generator stepped up a
notch, its low rumble jacking itself up to a frenzied roar. Garner jumped back
as one of its control switches exploded in a shower of sparks. He rushed over
to it and reached for the switch to turn the infernal thing off, but he couldn't
get his hand to the switch. The machine was exuding such a high level of
electrostatic heat energy that Garner could get no closer than a few feet away.
He turned and extended his prosthetic hand towards it but it still could not
reach.
He looked back over at the Master and his would-be new body. Both men
were on the edge of convulsions. The Master's hands gripped the prisoner's
head with such force that Garner wondered if he'd crush the man's skull, and
the prisoner's hands had come up to clench around the Master's forearms.
Garner rushed at the Master with the intention of forcibly separating them. As
he grasped the Master's shoulders the generator's coils cycled even higher, and
suddenly a huge bolt of pure artron energy slid along the leads and slammed into
the Master's head, quickly engulfing both men. Garner was tossed backwards
with the force of the shock, the small of his back banging painfully into the table
behind him. With a loud sizzling bang the Master and the prisoner flew apart
and the generator died with an emphysemic wheeze and rattle.
Garner got to his feet, rubbing his back, coughing at the intense smell of
ozone and...ugh, seared flesh. He peered through the dim haze...the generator's
explosion had apparently shorted out the electrical systems. He knelt by the
Master's inert form and shook him. "Master! Are you all right?"
"I am fine," came a low, calm voice...but not from the body he was
shaking. Garner looked up slowly, his blood running cold at the sound of that
voice. The prisoner, no longer the prisoner, was slowly getting to his feet.
The lights flickered and came back on, revealing the Master...successfully
transfered into his new body. Garner felt his heart pounding. He'd never had
this reaction before and he'd seen this process a dozen times. This time was
different...he sounded so strong, much stronger than ever before. He walked
over and extended a hand. Dumbstruck, Garner took it and the Master jerked
him easily to his feet although Garner was now both taller and larger than he.
Garner looked into the Master's new face...the eyes of the prisoner were gone.
In their place were a pair of glittering inky eyes full of dark genius and easy
malevolence. His face was flushed with life and health, even his hair seemed
redder and fuller.
"Master...it worked! I thought the explosion..."
"I am reborn, Garner," he said, his eyes flashing. "The artron burst has
rejuvenated me. The answer I've been seeking and all along it was here before
me!"
Garner shook his head in wonder. He's finally lost it, he thought. Snapped.
"What are you talking about? It nearly killed you! It's a wonder the transfer
worked at all!"
"It's no wonder," the Master said, looking off into space, his hand gripping
Garner's shoulder with painful fierceness. "This transfer has done something
to me...something extraordinary!"
Garner rolled his eyes. You couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting one
of the Master's melodramatic speeches. He reached up and grasped the
Master's arm and started leading him towards the elevator. "We need to
conduct a full examination, Master."
"It's so different this time, Garner..."
"Yes, I know. Come on."
"I must get on with my work..."
"Later. First it's into the bioneural scanner for you." He ended up all but
dragging the Master to the elevator, the reluctant Time Lord babbling semi-
coherently about his transference and his destiny and his great work. Garner
couldn't deny that this transfer was different, and he wasn't sure he wanted to
know why.
The Doctor hailed a carriage, pulling his cloak closer around him. A light
snow had begun falling a few minutes before, dusting the cobblestone surface of
Broadway. After several occupied hansoms passed him by, finally one pulled
over. The Doctor stepped in. "Delmonico's," he called up to the driver. The
cab took off down the street, its wheels clattering on the paving bricks.
As usual, there was quite a line outside Delmonico's, but the Doctor
passed by the waiting diners. He was meeting someone.
"Ah, Doctor!" Armand exclaimed as the Doctor came up to the maitre d's
station.
"Good evening, Armand," he said, handing his top hat and gloves to the
attendant. "I'm meeting Mr. Morgan."
"Of course. He's not yet arrived but your table is ready." Armand led the
Doctor to a secluded table in the corner. A waiter appeared out of nowhere and
poured him a glass of wine, disappearing again into the ether. The Doctor
ignored it, casting his glance around the dining room. Some of Manhattan's best
and brightest were here, both for the food and the visibility. His eye was
caught by a woman coming across the dining room towards him. She was
fashionably dressed in a green velvet gown, her reddish brown hair pulled into
an elaborate swirl on top of her head, her face shaded by a feathered hat. He
looked away, not wishing to strike up a conversation with a stranger just now.
To his surprise the woman strode unabashedly up to his table, pulled out a
chair and plunked herself down.
"Um...excuse me, madame, but I'm..." He stopped short as the woman
pulled her hat off and smiled at him. He sighed, smiling wryly. He should have
known.
"Sorry to intrude, Doctor."
"I'm meeting someone, Theo."
"I'm afraid Mr. Morgan will be a bit delayed."
He nodded, not really surprised. "I see." He leaned back and regarded her
as she picked up his wineglass and took a sip. He had very seldom seen her
outside of her office or the Domain, and it was refreshing to see her as a human
being. It suited her. The chilly air had put roses in her cheeks, and her green
eyes were full of life. "Well, I'm ready. Take your best shot."
Theo's brow creased. "Sorry?"
"Theo, I've visited a number of friends in the last month, and none of them
have had anything nice to say to me." Theo stared at him blankly. "Aren't you
going to lecture me? Berate me? Inform me just what an insensitive and
selfish bastard I am? Express disbelief and anger over my recent actions?"
Theo thoughtfully sipped some wine and watched as the Doctor worked himself
up. "I knew I'd get around to you sooner or later but it seems you couldn't
wait, so go right ahead. You must have been just as shocked and angry as
everyone else. Everyone seems to agree that I'm the villain here, and perhaps
they're right...so let's have it. Don't hold back, I can take it." He stared at
her, waiting.
Theo shrugged. "What makes you think I'd lecture you, Doctor? It's none
of my business." He blinked, surprised...but she had already moved on. "I'm
here to ask you about Ceres Beta."
The Doctor cleared his throat, feeling more than a little sheepish.
"Um...well, I have been there..."
"I've received intelligence that the Master is there."
His eyebrows shot up. "Oh really? I can't say I'm surprised."
"What do you think he might be up to?"
"What's your interest in this?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.
"You sound suspicious."
"No, it's just that whenever you take an interest in a situation I know that
I should pay strict attention."
"I just want to know if it's something that might attract Seth's notice."
"I doubt it. The Master's plans these days usually concern his quest for
immortality and his efforts to gain a new cycle of regenerations. I doubt Seth
would care one way or the other."
Theo's lips pursed and she nodded. "Yes, that's what I thought."
"Then, why all the concern?"
"I think I'm wrong," she said thoughtfully. "If I am, the Master will be the
least of my problems."
They fell silent for a few moments. "Would you like me to go have a look
round?" the Doctor asked.
"Oh no. I've got it under control. I just wondered if you knew anything
about the Master's recent activities that I didn't."
"I'm afraid I haven't had much contact with him as of late."
"I'll take care of it. Besides, you've got other things on your mind," she
said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. He sighed but said nothing.
She patted his shoulder. "Hang in there, Doc. These things have a way of
working themselves out." She was gone in a swish. He frowned...it seemed an
oddly flippant remark from someone who'd been through what she had with
Seth. His thoughts were cut short as his dinner companion entered and was led
to the table, smiling.
"Hello, Doctor...always a pleasure to see you!"
The Doctor shook his hand. "And you, J.P."
The Master twisted around in the diagnostic chair, trying to see the
readouts himself. Garner pushed him back. "Keep still, I'm trying to finish this
scan."
"How dare you speak to me that way, I am the Master!" he exclaimed,
looking up at Garner as if he wasn't sure who he was.
"Of course you are," Garner said, struggling to keep the humoring-the-
lunatic tone out of his voice. He peered at the readouts. "Master, these scans
look decidedly odd."
The Master sat up. "In what way?" He stood and pushed Garner aside to
examine the display.
"There's a foreign substance in your body, concentrated in the head and
spinal region. It doesn't match any known biological substance." Garner leaned
over the bioneural readouts. "And I can see two brainwave patterns. One is
very weak, almost buried by the other, stronger one."
"That's not possible," the Master snapped, pushing Garner out of the way
again. "My mind should have completely taken over this body's brain, his
original brainwaves should be gone. Unless..." He stared at Garner. "Garner, I
need another body, right away."
"Why? You were scarcely able to get yourself into this one!"
"Just a loaner. And I have a feeling that transferring isn't going to be a
problem any more."
Garner grudgingly complied, returning shortly from the basement with a
middle-aged man. "I don't quite understand this, Master."
"I do, Garner! This is what I've been hoping for, this will allow me to
continue my work indefinitely!"
"You're not making any sense," Garner said tightly. The Master grabbed
his arm and dragged him over to the readouts, pointing to the scan of his head
region which showed the unknown substance.
"That substance, Garner. That bioactive plasma..."
"Is that what it is?"
"Of course! It was created from my own neural energy by the artron
burst!"
Garner's eyes widened. "Are you saying..."
"That's me! My mind had developed its own physical form, an
indestructible form! Why didn't I think of it sooner," he said, his eyes flashing
excitedly, leaning over the neural diagnostics. "Of course a mind as powerful
as mine would construe its own physical incarnation to preserve itself,
Garner." He whirled around. "Don't you see what this means? I can transfer
myself at will!" Garner backed a few steps away. If this was true it wasn't
good news. "I will demonstrate," the Master hissed, advancing on the hapless
prisoner. He grasped the man's upper arms and with a grunt threw his head
back, his jaw opening up...and to Garner's horror a mass of a gelatinous ropy
substance erupted from his mouth. The plasma shot straight for the prisoner's
mouth with a life of its own, where it disappeared into his throat and was gone.
The redhaired body slumped to the floor while the middleaged body opened its
eyes, which shone with the Master's excited intelligence. "You see, Garner?"
the man said, his voice different but undeniably recognizable. "It's so
simple...and I can even exist without a body, all on my own, for an indefinite
period of time! Nothing can stop my success now!"
Garner crouched by the redhaired body. "This body is dead, Master," he
said softly.
The middleaged Master shrugged. "No matter. My mind is powerful
enough to reanimate it." Without another word the plasma shot out of his mouth
again. Garner watched, his eyes bulging, as it slithered under its own power
across the floor and slid into the redhaired body's mouth. Immediately the body
began to breathe and move. After a moment its eyes opened and Garner saw
the Master there before him once again.
"You're going to go through bodies a lot faster if they die each time you
transfer, Master."
"That is of no consequence. There are an infinite number of bodies for me
to inhabit, and my ability to inhabit them will never fade!" he said, flinging his
arms up in triumph. He was almost shaking with anticipation, his hands playing
aimlessly in the air. "I must resume the work, Garner. Come, back to the lab!"
He was out the door before Garner could reply. Garner stared down at the
dead body of the middleaged prisoner, a tangible feeling of dread shrouding his
mind. Finally he went to the intercom to order the body collected, and followed
the Master up to the lab.
Seth watched the Master dash out of the medlab on his Glass, and then
glanced over at Vishna. She looked at him questioningly for a moment. He gave
a curt nod.
"Yeah, that was good. I think he'll do the rest by himself, don't you?"
"Whatever he does, he'll still live. That was the point."
"So it was, Vishna, so it was."
Garner was dozing on a cot in the corner where he often crashed while the
Master was in one of his manic phases, as he most certainly was now. Five
days now and he hadn't stopped his work for a moment...and to Garner's
amazement, he seemed to be actually making some progress.
A loud crash awakened him. He launched himself off the cot, adrenaline
rushing into his veins, and darted around to the Master's workstation without
his feet seeming to touch the floor. He found the Master standing before his
computer station, his worktable in shambles before him, his chest heaving and
his eyes wild.
"Good Lord, what's going on?"
The Master reached up and clawed at his hair. "Simulation 76 has failed,
Garner. Another failure! The collector will provide enough energy and the
matrix is finally stable...but the biology is all wrong! My mind cannot be
absorbed by this prototype! It'll never be right with this...this trash for raw
material!" he screamed, picking up the remnants of his sample containers and
throwing them across the room. Garner jumped...they'd spent several years
collecting those samples.
"Master, there's no need to throw a wobbly, we'll get the combination
right," he said soothingly, not believing it for a moment. The Master was not
fooled.
"No, Garner...no genetic code is sufficient, no hybrid is viable, no sample
is compatible. I'm right back where I started...I need a Time Lord, Garner."
"And it's just as impossible to get one now as it was then," Garner said
sternly. Over the years he'd learned how to talk to the Master. Most cowered
before him, which was what he was accustomed to...but Garner had lost his
fear of him long ago. After all, Garner was too valuable to him. He was the
only one who knew how to configure the Cerean fission collector
correctly...more to the point, he was the only one with enough backbone for the
Master to deem him worthy of being his assistant. Lucky me, Garner thought.
"It's not impossible. I just wasn't willing to take the risks when there
were so many other options. Now...I am out of options! I need a Time Lord's
physiology again. I need..." His eyes gleamed and his hands curled into claws.
Garner observed with distaste that his body was beginning to decay. The
Master's occupation of it had slowed the putrefecation process but entropy
would win in the end. It would soon be time for a new body. "I need *him.* I
will use the Doctor as my blueprint for immortality!" He began pacing
restlessly around the lab, his eyes all but shooting flames. "Think of the irony!
I will have my revenge upon him and my rebirth all in one fell swoop!" He
erupted in a burst of maniacal laughter. Garner cringed. You know you're in
trouble when the maniacal laughter starts.
"He'll never come here, Master. He won't give you the opportunity."
The Master whirled on him and Garner could all but see the wheels turning
in his head. "But he will. He will come here and BEG me to use him!"
Garner's eyebrows shot up. "And how will you accomplish this miracle?"
"You'll see," the Master growled, turning back to his workstation, shoving
the debris of his smashes experiments onto the floor. "You'll see," he repeated.
"Ace...haven't I been a good friend to you?"
"The best."
"What have I ever done to you?"
"Nothing!" Ace replied, laughing.
"Then why, why, why did you make me play that awful game with you
*again?*"
"What's so awful about racquetball?"
Ace came into the TARDIS carrying the moaning Time Lady, her
impressive biceps bulging. "Any game that costs me the use of a knee qualifies
as awful."
Ace set her down and linked one arm around her waist, helping her through
the corridors. "Oh, cut the whingeing. You'll be all right in a jiff. Anyhow it's
marvelous for the cardiovascular system." Romana sat down on a bench in the
TARDIS sickbay, tossing her racket unceremoniously to the floor. Ace fetched
the hypospray from the cupboard and pressed it to Romana's already swollen
knee. "There," she said, ignoring Romana's wince. "The nannites will have you
good as new in a few minutes." She stood, looking sheepishly down at her
friend. "You're not really mad, are you?"
Romana cast a withering glance up at her and then gave up, relaxing into a
rueful smile. "No, not really. But Ace...couldn't we stick to water aerobics in
the future? I liked the water aerobics."
Ace chucked her on the shoulder and grinned. "You got it." She returned
the nannite hypospray to its cupboard and inspected Romana's knee. "There,
you see? The swelling's gone already. Try it out."
Romana got gingerly to her feet and put her weight on the injured leg.
"Much better. I won't be running a marathon in the next few days but it feels
okay for now." She walked carefully out of the infirmary. "I'm going to go do a
little maintenance in the control room."
"Righto. I really should write a few letters."
"All right then. See you later." She went off down the hall as Ace headed
for the shower.
Romana chuckled to herself as she came into the console room.
Racquetball indeed. She settled herself under the console with her toolkit, her
knee giving a slight twinge but otherwise feeling quite normal.
When the message came in about half an hour later, she was in the middle
of realigning the rotor coils, her head and shoulders deep in the TARDIS's
internal workings. She jumped at the strident sound of the message chime,
banging her head painfully on the underside of the console. Not my day, she
thought, standing up to retrieve the message.
She smiled as Spandrell's affable face appeared on the viewscreen. Her
smile faded, however, at the look of concern on her majordomo's features.
"Hello, Spandrell. What's wrong?"
"Lady President. Something's happened that I thought you'd want to know
about."
Romana's brow creased. "What's going on?"
"It's...it's about the Doctor."
Ace sealed up a rather lengthy letter to her mother, sighing with relief
that it was finished. It had taken her a few tries to get it started, tries which
were now lying crumpled in balls on the floor. Her mother already knew about
her separation (but not yet about her imminent arrival...that was for a personal
visit) and to Ace's relief and surprise she hadn't launched into a lecture or
given her a lot of crap but had instead expressed sympathy and support. She
laid the letter on the small stack she'd been accumulating over the last few
weeks for their next visit to Earth when she could post them.
She flipped through her Rolodex looking for Tegan's most recent address.
All she had was the one on Highberry Street and she knew that was no longer
accurate. Romana would have it. She hopped off her stool, whipping the damp
towel off her hair and tossing it aside, and headed towards the console room to
ask her.
She had her hand on the door and was about to push it open when she heard
a man's voice say the words "It's about the Doctor." She froze, startled, and
let her hand drop off the door. She put her ear to the crack to listen. There
was a pause...she thought the man had sounded like Spandrell, the Time Lord
that Romana had left in charge on Gallifrey.
"What about him?" Romana asked tightly.
"Perhaps you should hear it for yourself. This morning we received this
message from Ceres Beta, a remote Earth colony, on a time lag from the
humanian 52nd century."
Ace pressed closer to the door to hear, her heart thumping in spite of
herself. The next voice she heard was unfamiliar, but she knew immediately
who it was.
"'Greetings to the High Council of Time Lords from one of your own. I am
the Master, and I am sure that I do not need to introduce myself further. I have
been living for some time on this hostile world among the pariahs of human
civilization, yet it is more a home to me than Gallifrey ever was or could ever
be, for it will soon give me what I have sought for centuries...new life, and a
new existence. You will help me achieve this rebirth. Whether or not you
believe that, it is the truth, for once again it is I who have the upper hand. I
require access to my Matrix trace and all the biological information contained
therein...you see what a simple request this is? It will be exceedingly easy for
you to acquiesce to it, and indeed necessary. I'm sure that threats will not be
necessary but I am a believer in taking precautions so I have procured for
myself a hostage, who is known to you and who is in fact one of your former
Presidents. He has been alternately the savior and the scapegoat of the Time
Lord race...so now you must ask yourself, is the information I seek worth the
Doctor's life?'" Ace's fingers pressed into the wall so hard the tips were white
and her jaw clenched. The message continued. "'Perhaps you would be just as
happy if I were to kill him...but know this: if I choose to kill him, all of his
knowledge, including many Time Lord secrets that I'm sure you'd rather I not
learn, will be transferred to my central computer upon his death. I say this not
as blackmail, but as a sincere and heartfelt promise. The choice is yours, High
Council. I ask so little...is the payoff worth the price?'" The message ended.
Spandrell spoke again.
"Naturally we have many concerns."
"What does the Council think?" Romana asked. Ace waited for her to come
to the door and call out to her. Surely I should be in on these discussions, she
thought.
"The Council is willing to consider giving the Master the information he
requested."
"I wonder if it's the Doctor's welfare or the safety of his many secrets
that they're protecting," Romana said sharply.
"I wondered the same thing. Regardless, they consider submitting to be a
last resort. They'd rather pursue, shall we say, alternative options."
"Say no more. Did the Master give a time limit?"
"He gave three days from when the message was received." Come on,
Romana, Ace thought. Aren't you going to even consult me?
"Very well. I think something can be arranged."
"What shall I tell the Council?"
"Tell them I'll take care of it...if I can't work something out in three days
then we'll consider giving him what he wants."
"What about Ms. McShane? Will you tell her about this?"
"No!" Romana exclaimed. Ace sucked in a shocked breath and pulled away
from the door a bit. "No," Romana repeated, more softly. "I don't want her
getting any crazy ideas...and to tell the truth, I've really very little confidence
as to how she'd react to this news on top of everything else that's happened."
"How will you..."
"That's not your concern, Spandrell. I'll think of something." Ace heard
the viewscreen click off. She turned and dashed back down the corridor to her
room, seething.
Romana pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to think clearly. Ace, I
think you should have a full checkup at the Domain and why don't you stay for a
few days and relax? No, too obvious. Ace, why don't you visit your mother?
Definitely not. Ace, I need you to do something for me...that'd be better. Make
it a task, something important. She banged out of the console room and started
down the hall, wondering what she'd gotten herself into. What could she do?
Barge in on the Master herself? Asking for trouble. Theo? She'd never get
involved.
As she passed Ace's room her flow of thoughts were interrupted by an odd
clicking sound. She backtracked to stand outside the room, listening. She was
doing *something* in there...sounded like moving furniture. Romana pushed the
door open...they'd gone past knocking weeks ago. Her shoulders slumped at the
sight of Ace clicking the belt closed over her battle armor as she hauled her
weapons case up onto the bed. She unlocked it and flipped it open, not looking at
Romana, and began expertly plucking the weapons from their slots and checking
them.
"Were you ever going to tell me?" she finally asked, her voice carefully
even.
"Ace, I'm sorry you had to hear."
"Why?" Ace asked, looking up sharply, nimbly twirling a blaster into her
hip holster. "Because now I know the truth?" She bent and began loading ammo
into the belt pouches. "I can't believe you were going to try to keep this from
me," she said, slamming the ammo into its pouches with increasing ferocity.
"This is why!" Romana exclaimed, moving to the side of the bed and
gesturing to the case. "Because I knew you might go off half-cocked!"
"I'm not going off half-cocked, Romana," Ace said through clenched teeth.
"I'm a professional, okay? This is part of what I was trained for."
"So what are you going to do? Walk in and shoot anyone who gets in your
way?"
Ace paused and sighed. "Give me some credit, will you? I may once have
been a bit of a trigger-happy hothead but that was a long time ago. This stuff
is...well, call it insurance. And if I'm heading into a chancy situation I'll feel
better if I'm prepared for the worst."
"And how do you plan to get there?"
Ace looked at her. "Oh no you don't. Don't tell me you'd refuse to take
me."
"What if I do?"
Ace stepped closer to her. "Romana, try to understand this. I am still
very angry at him, and it's even true that I'm beginning to get over him." She
looked at her gloved hands. "Unfortunately that doesn't change the fact that
he's still my husband, and I still love him, and I still made a promise to protect
him. I can't stand by while he is in danger any more than he could if our places
were reversed." She looked up again, her eyes staring imploringly into
Romana's. "Can you understand that?"
Romana sighed. "Yes, Ace, I can. But you've got to consider the risks to
you as well. And it's not just you that you'd be putting at risk," she said softly.
Ace turned back to the case, picked up her scanner and began checking it.
"You think I don't realize that?"
"You've got to think of her too."
"I am thinking of her," she said softly, pausing. "I might even be doing
this for her." Her hand strayed to her abdomen and her voice dropped to barely
above a whisper. "How can I ever look her in the eye if I did nothing while her
father was killed?"
"He's not going to be killed, Ace!" Romana said. "If we can't get him out
and he can't get himself out, then the High Council will give the Master what he
wants."
Ace laughed. "And you think that then the Master will just let him go?
Even if that bio-whatsis stuff from the Matrix is truly what the Master wants,
which I doubt, he'll never let the Doctor go now that he's got him." With a flick
of her wrist she cocked a long slender pulse rifle one-handed, the chamber
loading with a loud ratcheting click. "Not unless we force him to." She slid the
pulse rifle into its slot along her right thigh and looked up at Romana
questioningly. Romana thought for a moment, hands on her hips. Finally she
sighed again, resigned.
"Then let's not waste any more time. Come on."
