Walk The Earth: Doctor Who/Studio C [Book 2]

Shatterpoint

Shatterpoint

(Last of the Time Lords: Part 2)

And the taste of dried up hopes in my mouth / And the landscape of merry and desperate drought / Once I knew myself / And with knowing came love / I would know love again if I have faith enough. -Vienna Teng, 'Drought'

Nuclear Plant 7 was not as heavily guarded as Mallory had feared. They had had to cut through a chain link fence and dash across an open field, but once they were inside properly there seemed to be little to worry about.

Mallory's gaze landed on a woman, perhaps in her late fifties or early sixties, with hair cut short and fingerless gloves. She fiddled with an old monitor, finally slamming her hands against the sides and letting out a wordless yell of frustration.

"Professor Docherty?" Tom called softly.

"Busy," the woman snapped.

"They, uh, they sent word ahead," Martha said. "I'm Martha Jones, this is Tom Milligan... and this is Mallory Everton."

"She can be the Queen of Sheba for all I care, I'm still busy," Docherty returned waspishly, continuing to fiddle with the screen.

"Televisions don't work anymore," Mallory pointed out, but still felt a flicker of hope. If Docherty could get a computer working...

"Oh, I miss Countdown," Docherty groaned, leaning back. "But we've been told there's gonna be a transmission." She banged the monitor again. "From the man himself."

"Just say the Master, he's not bloody Voldemort," Mallory said with a roll of her eyes, coaxing a chuckle from Martha.

As she spoke, the screen flared to life, crackling with static for a moment before filling with a view of a suited chest. The camera adjusted upwards, fixing on the Master's face.

"My people," the Time Lord said. "Salutations on this, the eve of war. Lovely woman. But I know there's all sorts of whispers down there. Stories of a child, walking the Earth, giving you hope." He stepped backward, moving to stand beside the aged Doctor. Another form was visible, briefly, in the background, but his head was bowed and the glimpse was so short there was no way to tell who it was."But I ask you... how much hope has this man got? Say hello, Gandalf," he said to the Doctor.

After spending so much time with him, used to it being the rarest of occasions the Doctor had nothing to say, his silence was more shocking to Mallory than anything.

"Except..." the Master continued, "he's not that old. But he's an alien with a much greater lifespan than you stunted little apes." The man in the background was visible again, drawing Mallory's eyes even if she still couldn't identify him. Her attention was brought once more to the Master as he pulled out his screwdriver and aimed it at the Doctor. "What if it showed? What if I suspend your capacity to regenerate? All 900 years of your life, Doctor. What if we could see them?"

She couldn't help but watch as the Doctor writhed like he had a year ago, slipping out of his chair and toward the ground.

"Down you go, Doctor. Down, down, down you go." The Master finally stopped, the silence deafening as he bent down."Doctor?"

A pile of pinstriped suit laid on the floor, still and all but empty. After a moment, though, it shifted, and something poked out of the collar. A bulbous head, wide eyes, tiny hands. The Doctor was perhaps only a foot or two tall now—it was hard to tell on the screen—and a look of surprise crossed the Master's face. Evidently even he hadn't been expecting that.