Post by Fitz Kreiner on Jul 2, 2011 22:21:18 GMT
The journey in the back of the van seemed to Kelly to have lasted for hours. There were no windows, so she couldn’t judge where they were. Tom was sat opposite, his hands fastened behind his back in handcuffs. Since they had been captured, he had seemed to sink into a depression, not saying a word, not even seeming to resist as the Soldiers patted him down, took the gun from him and cuffed him.
Kelly had tried to get him to say or do something but was told to be quiet by the soldiers. She had been roughly manhandled into the back of the van and wedged between two rather gruff looking soldiers. She felt hugely uncomfortable in between them, let alone being arrested like that. Having asked where they were going, she was curtly told to be quiet and mind her own business as she’d find out soon enough.
The soldiers had seemed to be rougher with Tom, pulling his arms back roughly before cuffing him, and almost throwing him into the back of the van. He’d received a blow to the stomach from a rifle early on and had been spat in the face. The one thing Kelly had to admire was that he didn’t seem to bat an eyelid at the treatment he received. He had glowered at the soldiers that Kelly wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of. If looks could kill, she thought, those soldiers would have been dead at half a mile. For the first time, she actually felt a chill of fear go through her at being in his presence. She got the very strong feeling that if he wanted to, he could be a hugely dangerous man.
Several times through the journey, Kelly had heard the sound of crowds nearby. She guessed that they were being taken somewhere important, that much was obvious. However, the question still remained of where? She couldn’t tell whether they were late night Christmas shoppers or revellers in London getting ready for the coronation and Duncan’s many upcoming speeches. There was a part of her which strongly suspected that it was the latter. Knowing what Tom was up to, she had the feeling that they were probably being taken to see Duncan. There was also a part of her which was expecting to be taken to a police station or prison and locked up. Either way, she wasn’t looking forward to it.
Kelly felt the van halt and the engine shut off. This was it; they’d arrived, wherever it was. There was a loud banging on the side of the van, which made her jump. Seconds later, the doors were thrown open and two soldiers stood there, two gas-masked figures in red and gold uniforms behind them. There was something about them which sent a shiver through her. She’d heard that Duncan had moved to the Tower of London and there had been some rumours around him redesigning the uniform of the Yeoman guard. She guessed that was where they were.
After being shoved out of the van by rifle-butt, she got a chance to look at her surroundings. She had guessed right, they were at the Tower.
“Get out, move!” she heard one of the soldiers shout.
Looking round, she saw Tom get virtually thrown out of the back of the van. She had to put her arms out to grab him and stop him from falling over.
“You ok?” she asked softly.
“We’ll see,” he replied looking around. “Where are we?”
“The Tower of London,” Kelly replied. “You don’t know it?”
Tom shook his head. “Should’ve guessed really,” he said, “Duncan’s seat of power. Still better place than out on the run.”
“Are you mad?” Kelly asked.
“Possibly,” Tom shrugged.
“Keep quiet,” one of the soldiers shouted, nudging Tom with the barrel of his gun. “Get moving, that way,” he said, pointing to a large pair of doors with his gun. “You guys sure you can handle this one? He’s more dangerous than he looks.”
“He’ll be fine with us,” one of the gas masked troops said, his gravelly voice muffled slightly by the mask.
“Who are these?” Kelly whispered, indicating one of the red and gold uniformed figures.
“Duncan’s private army?” Tom shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out eventually.”
“No talking, move,” one of the gas masked troops said, nudging Tom with his gun.
Nodding, Tom set off towards the doors, Kelly following, cautiously looking over her shoulder at the two gas masked figures escorting them. There was something very unsettling about them. They were both over six feet tall, making her feel very short at her five foot two, especially with Tom being over six feet tall as well.
She’d been to the Tower of London once as a girl, Rachel and Bobby taking her not long after they’d started seeing each other, but she didn’t remember it being like this. The corridor had an air of foreboding and terror. There was something about the Tower that chilled her as a child, and it was ever more present now. She couldn’t help but remember the bloody history of the building, the many executions which had happened there, the torture, the near inescapable prison. All this was twisting her stomach with fear.
“I don’t think they’re human,” Tom whispered.
With a shudder, she looked up. She’d not noticed as they walked through the Tower. She wasn’t sure of their ultimate destination and hadn’t really been paying attention as they walked.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Quiet!” one of their escorts yelled.
Feeling another shudder go through her, Kelly walked on in silence, Tom striding along beside her. She didn’t remember the Tower being so big. Either that or she was really not looking forward to getting to their destination, wherever that was. She soon found out none the less. At the end of the wide stone corridor was a pair of ornate wooden double doors with heavy iron hinges and handles.
As they approached, the doors opened, Kelly assumed by people on the other side. Beyond the doorway, Kelly could make out a large and ornately decorated room. A large and heavy desk was sat in the middle towards the back wall, two Union Flags either side. She could see several red and gold uniformed figures in the room. There were some rather technical looking shapes which she thought were cameras, and she could hear the low murmur of voices.
Getting nearer to the doors, Kelly could see a figure with mousey hair in a suit walking back and forth, talking; his right hand in the air, wagging his finger as he spoke. She could just hear his fluty voice, although couldn’t make out what he was saying. As they neared the door, he stopped and leaned on the desk before three people in business suits hurried out of the room. She recognised the second figure as Jennie Bond, the BBC Royal Correspondent. It was then she realised the mousey haired figure in the room was James Duncan. She felt a sudden knot of anxiety in her stomach at the thought of being brought before him whilst under arrest.
Walking through the door, she was aware that there were several of the red and gold uniformed guards stood to the sides of the room. There were three television cameras set up in the room, two pointing to the desk and a third pointing to a leather wing-back chair next to a fire. The room was a mixture of wood panelling and stonework, reminding her of where they were.
As she looked around, her eyes were drawn to what looked like a prefabricated office, made by a partitioning which had been erected across one side of the large room. Through the large Plexiglas window she could see two figures working at a desk and large instrument panel, which she assumed had something to do with the cameras.
“I knew it, I knew you had something to do with this,” Tom’s voice from beside her caused her to turn to look at what he was talking about.
There were two other figures in the room she hadn’t spotted before. And she couldn’t believe she hadn’t. They stuck out somewhat. One was an older gentleman with white hair and beard. He was wearing a tweed jacket, red waistcoat and grey trousers. He had a military crest pin on his tie. She assumed he was an old soldier because of it.
The other figure was stood, his hands folded before him. He was wearing a dark suit with dark blue shirt and tie. His greying dark hair was brushed back from his high forehead. His dark beard had some, what she assumed he would call distinguished, silver markings. His dark eyes seemed to burn with an internal dark fire. There was something about him, she could feel it.
“Oh my dear Mr. Rowan, I think you may have some misconceptions about me,” the man replied lifting his hands revealing the handcuffs fastening his wrists together.
“Ah, Mr. Tom Rowan, isn’t it?” Duncan said, his high fluty voice cutting across the room. “How nice to finally meet you.”
“I wish I could say the same,” Tom replied.
“Hmm,” Duncan mused, with half a smile on his face as he walked round the desk. “And who are you?” he asked, walking towards Kelly.
“Erm, Kelly, Kelly Humphreys,” Kelly said before hastily adding, “sir. Sire... Sir.”
“Ah, so nice to see someone with manners finally,” Duncan said with a heavy sarcastic air. “I see that our visiting aliens have ensnared yet another innocent young life in their net, to destroy.”
“Now look here,” the old soldier spoke up. “I’ve known the Doctor for many years, and Mr. Rowan, and they’re not the sort to do that.”
“Mr. Lethbridge-Stewart,” Duncan said turning round. “I’ve already told you the correct way to address me. And I have reports here that go contrary to what you say. These so called ‘Time Lords’ have been visiting our world for millennia, taking young people away from their homes and loved ones. These young people are so tainted by these aliens they are willing to throw their lives away. Indeed, many of them do, they are taken away from their homes and never seen again.” Duncan paused and walked up to Tom, looking up at him intently. “Do you deny that?”
“Yes,” Tom replied with a scowl, looking down on Duncan.
“Then tell me,” Duncan said, turning round with a smile on his face, “if you can, the whereabouts of a Miss Jessica Lawton; reported missing by her Aunt some months ago. She was meant to be going on a round-the-world trip with some friends, but she never arrived, never left for that trip.”
Duncan paused as he reached the desk. Kelly looked across at Tom and could see the hurt and anger on his face.
“She was last seen in the company of yourself and the alien interloper known as ‘the Doctor’, in October,” Duncan continued, drumming his fingers on a brown folder on the desk. “I could give you lists of those who disappeared after meeting Time Lords. And they are the lucky ones; the list of the dead is far, far longer.” Duncan paused as he turned round again and looked at Kelly. “And now this one has ensnared you Kelly Humphreys. He’s dragged you into his acts of treachery, dragged you onto the wrong side of the law. Let me guess, you’ve not got a criminal record of any history of trouble with the police?”
“No,” Kelly said, shifting uncomfortably. “But I trust him.”
“Why?” Duncan asked. “You don’t know him, you don’t owe him anything. Can’t you see; this is what they do?”
The Master chuckled from where he was stood under guard. “Thank you Mr. Duncan,” he said. “I’ve never been so amused by someone so deranged before.”
“Quiet,” Duncan snapped rounding on him. “You are the worst criminal of the lot of them.”
“Then may I ask why I’m here?” the Master asked with a sly smile.
“You are here,” Duncan said, “because you will have a proper trial for the crimes you have committed on this planet, and on others.”
“You know nothing of my activities,” the Master said softly, glowering at Duncan. “If you did, you would not have me stood here.”
“So you admit to them,” Duncan said.
“I have never made any secret of who or what I am,” the Master replied, “unlike you, Mr. Duncan, or your so-called allies.”
“Allies?” Tom and Kelly chorused at the same time.
“You class my activities in the seventies and in September as crimes, class me as a criminal,” the Master continued. “Yes, humanity is a lesser species to me and Mr. Rowan, although he seems to have some misplaces affection for them, like the good Doctor. Although that aside, they do seem to have some good taste in travelling companions. Mr. Duncan, you make the misplaced assumption that we are all the same. Like you humans, we’re not. Many humans on this planet are strong individuals, many are like parasites infesting this world, and then there’s you; sitting here in your usurped castle like a carcinoma.”
“What the hell are you babbling about?” Tom asked, raising his voice to cut in over the Master.
“Mr. Rowan, I think you’ll find there is a cancer on this world, in this country. And like most cancers, we see the effects long before the tumour is found. Our Mr. Duncan here is one such effect,” the Master purred.
“What do you mean?” Tom asked.
“There are no descendents of Elizabeth the first,” the Master explained, “least of all, you, Mr. Duncan,” the Master added turning purposefully towards Duncan.
“I guess your intelligence on our planet is incomplete,” Duncan replied. “There’s a new history now. I am the descendant of Elizabeth, with documents and backing to prove it.”
“Made with Ikthaari technology?” the Master asked, eyeing a device sat on Duncan’s desk.
Tom looked intently at the Master, who was still staring at Duncan. “I knew he knew more than he was telling me,” he whispered to Kelly.
“You know them?” Duncan asked looking at the Master astounded.
“Yes, he knows us,” a new voice, guttural, growled.
Kelly turned to locate the source. Stood, silhouetted in the doorway was the figure of a man. She looked closely at the figure as it stepped into the light. It was wearing the same red and gold uniform as the other guards in the tower, only this time covered in strange decoration. But that wasn’t what held her attention. The figures face was distinctly alien. Despite having two eyes, a mouth and nose, the aliens face was totally smooth and featureless. The skin colour was like a not-quite ripe orange, a mottled orange hinted with green. The creature had no ears, just holes in the side of its head and a humourless, lipless mouth. Its eyes, she noticed as it passed, were orbs of gold with a horizontal black, slit-like pupil. The eyes put her in mind of a goat, except when the alien blinked and the eyelids came in from both sides of the eyes.
“He is responsible for our being here,” the figure said, walking round the Master, not taking his eyes off him.
“Former General Kortath, late of the Tsalwie,” the Master said. “I think you’ll find it was your own doing, Krra Kortath.”
“What’s a ‘Krra’?” Kelly whispered, leaning into Tom.
“I imagine, knowing the Master, that it’s the Ikthaari equivalent of ‘Mr.’,” Tom replied. “The Master can be hugely polite and charming when he wants to be. But be careful, that’s when he’s at his most dangerous.”
“It’s still ‘General’.” Kortath replied.
“Funny,” the Master mused. “When last we met, I’m sure you were stripped of rank and dishonourably discharged from the Tsalwie task force.”
“As a result of your interference,” Kortath snarled.
“So all this is a petty revenge scheme,” the Brigadier asked. “You disrupt my world, my country, for him?”
“General Kortath contacted me,” Duncan said. “He could see me for the great man I am and am destined to be. He will provide me with the means to make Britain great again. I am proud to be British and so should every British subject. We once controlled the globe, and under my leadership, we will again.”
“Oh pull the other one,” Tom laughed. “I think you’ll find that imperialism went out with steam power.”
“How little you know,” Duncan smiled. “Across the Atlantic, America is making plans. Only their capitalism is different and subtle. Have you noticed how there are McDonalds in every British town, in most countries of the world? We will beat them to it, take back our former colonies and unify the Commonwealth under one strong British lead.”
“I guess you mean you?” Tom asked.
“Precisely,” Duncan smiled. “Look at the mess these countries got themselves in without our lead. Look at the strength Britain is under my lead. Imagine that strength channelled around the globe; one giant Empire under a strong British rule. With the technological wonders the Ikthaari will share, we will lead the world into a new and stable dawn. We used to rule America, we shall do it again. Britain is not the lapdog for the president of a former colony. England used to rule more of France than the French did. We shall take that back.”
“You’re talking about invasion,” Kelly said astounded.
“I don’t have to take condemnation from a traitor,” Duncan sneered.
“You’re certifiable, mate,” Tom said, shaking his head.
“And you are a traitor,” Duncan replied.
“Do your homework, pal,” Tom scoffed. “How can I be a traitor when I’m not a British subject?”
“An illegal alien then,” Duncan replied. “If you don’t exist then there’s no paperwork headache relating to your death.”
“I think,” the Master cut in, side stepping around the room, “that we should hear from General, sorry, Krra Kortath. He is being suspiciously quiet.”
“You know as well as I do the strategic importance of this world.” Kortath said. “The Sontaran/Rutan conflict has reached here several times. Even the Daleks and Cybermen have tried it. With our help, Earth need not fear these aggressors.”
“A transparent means to invade,” the Master casually said.
“Help,” Duncan corrected. “They will help me and imagine the coup de grace of establishing official first contact with an alien race."
“We shall aid Earth and I shall regain a full pardon and take my rightful place on the supreme council,” Kortath said.
“I believe the appropriate vernacular of Earth is; you can’t kid a kidder,” the Master said. “You’re destroying this world and I can’t allow that.
The statement caused Tom and the Brigadier to stare at the Master, their eyes wide and Tom’s mouth agape, lost for words.
“You can’t allow it?” Duncan asked, almost laughing. “After the innumerable attempts you’ve made to conquer or destroy this planet?”
“Exactly,” the Master purred with an evil smile, “that’s my job. And it’s much more fun when the Doctor is present to play the game,” he added, looking purposefully at Tom.
“You sure know how to make someone feel special,” Tom replied sardonically.
“Well, if you two are going to have a domestic, I’d rather you do it in your cell,” Duncan sneered.
“Our cell?” Tom queried, raising an eyebrow.
“Indeed,” Duncan said. “You think I brought you here for just a little chat? Oh no, I’ve other arrangements for the two of you,” he said, wagging his finger first at the Master and then at Tom as he walked around the front of his desk before stopping in front of Kelly. “And what of you?”
“What do you mean?” Kelly asked, feeling suddenly conspicuous.
“Who are you with?” Duncan asked. “Will you be loyal and side with me, or will you betray your king and country and side with this alien? Don’t forget, he persuaded a young and promising soldier to betray her friends and comrades; a young soldier who is now awaiting court martial and trial for treason.”
Kelly felt her mouth go dry and her palms start to sweat. She shifted uncomfortably and looked across at Tom. “Are you sure about this? You’re right?” she asked.
Tom nodded slowly.
“I trust you,” she said stepping over to him and looking up into his eyes. They were heavy and sad, almost pleading. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and stood up on tip-toes and placed a light kiss on his lips. “I trust you,” she repeated before turning to face Duncan, feeling bolder now she had just given Tom a long wanted kiss. “I’m with him,” she said.
“So be it,” Duncan said, turning his back on her and walking around and sitting behind his desk. “And what of you, Mr. Lethbridge-Stewart?”
“All I can say, Mr. Duncan,” the Brigadier said, pulling himself to his full height, “is that I’m glad I’m retired. I would never take a salute for you, sir. You are not my king, and you never will be.”
“Very well, traitors the lot of you,” Duncan said coldly, turning to some of the masked figures. “Take them to their cell. It will be a bit of a squeeze for them now, but they’ve made their bed, they shall lie in it.”
Sitting back in his chair, Duncan watched gleefully as the Master, Brigadier, Tom and Kelly were led away by four of Kortath’s Tsalwie soldiers.
“You’re keeping them in the premises?” Kortath asked, walking up to Duncan.
“Allow me to fill you in on the history of the Tower of London, General,” Duncan said, turning his chair to face Kortath and folding his hands. “This building has been used for centuries for royalty and imprisonment of prisoners. There is no escape from here, especially not with your taskforce stationed here. Perhaps the most interesting part of this buildings history is that traitors here never survived long. We have a long-standing tradition in Britain that executions are carried out at dawn.”
“If it were me,” Kortath said, “I’d have taken any insurgents out to execution immediately and had them shot in the back. Insurgents deserve nothing less.”
“That is where we differ, General,” Duncan said. “This is my country, and I will do it according to tradition. They will die, fear not.”
“I sincerely hope that you are right,” Kortath said. “The Master has greatly dishonoured me, ruined my reputation. I would greatly appreciate the satisfaction of taking his life myself."
“I’m sure I can arrange that,” Duncan said.
“I am gratified,” Kortath said. “Now, if you will excuse me.”
“Of course,” Duncan smiled, indicating the door. “And I trust that you will join me for dinner later,” he added as Kortath walked to the door.
“If you wish,” Kortath replied. As he left the room, Kortath smiled. Duncan was right that these insurgents would die, although he wasn’t going to be right about when they would die. He was going to ensure that these Time Lords and their co-conspirators would die before the night was out.
Kelly had tried to get him to say or do something but was told to be quiet by the soldiers. She had been roughly manhandled into the back of the van and wedged between two rather gruff looking soldiers. She felt hugely uncomfortable in between them, let alone being arrested like that. Having asked where they were going, she was curtly told to be quiet and mind her own business as she’d find out soon enough.
The soldiers had seemed to be rougher with Tom, pulling his arms back roughly before cuffing him, and almost throwing him into the back of the van. He’d received a blow to the stomach from a rifle early on and had been spat in the face. The one thing Kelly had to admire was that he didn’t seem to bat an eyelid at the treatment he received. He had glowered at the soldiers that Kelly wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of. If looks could kill, she thought, those soldiers would have been dead at half a mile. For the first time, she actually felt a chill of fear go through her at being in his presence. She got the very strong feeling that if he wanted to, he could be a hugely dangerous man.
Several times through the journey, Kelly had heard the sound of crowds nearby. She guessed that they were being taken somewhere important, that much was obvious. However, the question still remained of where? She couldn’t tell whether they were late night Christmas shoppers or revellers in London getting ready for the coronation and Duncan’s many upcoming speeches. There was a part of her which strongly suspected that it was the latter. Knowing what Tom was up to, she had the feeling that they were probably being taken to see Duncan. There was also a part of her which was expecting to be taken to a police station or prison and locked up. Either way, she wasn’t looking forward to it.
Kelly felt the van halt and the engine shut off. This was it; they’d arrived, wherever it was. There was a loud banging on the side of the van, which made her jump. Seconds later, the doors were thrown open and two soldiers stood there, two gas-masked figures in red and gold uniforms behind them. There was something about them which sent a shiver through her. She’d heard that Duncan had moved to the Tower of London and there had been some rumours around him redesigning the uniform of the Yeoman guard. She guessed that was where they were.
After being shoved out of the van by rifle-butt, she got a chance to look at her surroundings. She had guessed right, they were at the Tower.
“Get out, move!” she heard one of the soldiers shout.
Looking round, she saw Tom get virtually thrown out of the back of the van. She had to put her arms out to grab him and stop him from falling over.
“You ok?” she asked softly.
“We’ll see,” he replied looking around. “Where are we?”
“The Tower of London,” Kelly replied. “You don’t know it?”
Tom shook his head. “Should’ve guessed really,” he said, “Duncan’s seat of power. Still better place than out on the run.”
“Are you mad?” Kelly asked.
“Possibly,” Tom shrugged.
“Keep quiet,” one of the soldiers shouted, nudging Tom with the barrel of his gun. “Get moving, that way,” he said, pointing to a large pair of doors with his gun. “You guys sure you can handle this one? He’s more dangerous than he looks.”
“He’ll be fine with us,” one of the gas masked troops said, his gravelly voice muffled slightly by the mask.
“Who are these?” Kelly whispered, indicating one of the red and gold uniformed figures.
“Duncan’s private army?” Tom shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out eventually.”
“No talking, move,” one of the gas masked troops said, nudging Tom with his gun.
Nodding, Tom set off towards the doors, Kelly following, cautiously looking over her shoulder at the two gas masked figures escorting them. There was something very unsettling about them. They were both over six feet tall, making her feel very short at her five foot two, especially with Tom being over six feet tall as well.
She’d been to the Tower of London once as a girl, Rachel and Bobby taking her not long after they’d started seeing each other, but she didn’t remember it being like this. The corridor had an air of foreboding and terror. There was something about the Tower that chilled her as a child, and it was ever more present now. She couldn’t help but remember the bloody history of the building, the many executions which had happened there, the torture, the near inescapable prison. All this was twisting her stomach with fear.
“I don’t think they’re human,” Tom whispered.
With a shudder, she looked up. She’d not noticed as they walked through the Tower. She wasn’t sure of their ultimate destination and hadn’t really been paying attention as they walked.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Quiet!” one of their escorts yelled.
Feeling another shudder go through her, Kelly walked on in silence, Tom striding along beside her. She didn’t remember the Tower being so big. Either that or she was really not looking forward to getting to their destination, wherever that was. She soon found out none the less. At the end of the wide stone corridor was a pair of ornate wooden double doors with heavy iron hinges and handles.
As they approached, the doors opened, Kelly assumed by people on the other side. Beyond the doorway, Kelly could make out a large and ornately decorated room. A large and heavy desk was sat in the middle towards the back wall, two Union Flags either side. She could see several red and gold uniformed figures in the room. There were some rather technical looking shapes which she thought were cameras, and she could hear the low murmur of voices.
Getting nearer to the doors, Kelly could see a figure with mousey hair in a suit walking back and forth, talking; his right hand in the air, wagging his finger as he spoke. She could just hear his fluty voice, although couldn’t make out what he was saying. As they neared the door, he stopped and leaned on the desk before three people in business suits hurried out of the room. She recognised the second figure as Jennie Bond, the BBC Royal Correspondent. It was then she realised the mousey haired figure in the room was James Duncan. She felt a sudden knot of anxiety in her stomach at the thought of being brought before him whilst under arrest.
Walking through the door, she was aware that there were several of the red and gold uniformed guards stood to the sides of the room. There were three television cameras set up in the room, two pointing to the desk and a third pointing to a leather wing-back chair next to a fire. The room was a mixture of wood panelling and stonework, reminding her of where they were.
As she looked around, her eyes were drawn to what looked like a prefabricated office, made by a partitioning which had been erected across one side of the large room. Through the large Plexiglas window she could see two figures working at a desk and large instrument panel, which she assumed had something to do with the cameras.
“I knew it, I knew you had something to do with this,” Tom’s voice from beside her caused her to turn to look at what he was talking about.
There were two other figures in the room she hadn’t spotted before. And she couldn’t believe she hadn’t. They stuck out somewhat. One was an older gentleman with white hair and beard. He was wearing a tweed jacket, red waistcoat and grey trousers. He had a military crest pin on his tie. She assumed he was an old soldier because of it.
The other figure was stood, his hands folded before him. He was wearing a dark suit with dark blue shirt and tie. His greying dark hair was brushed back from his high forehead. His dark beard had some, what she assumed he would call distinguished, silver markings. His dark eyes seemed to burn with an internal dark fire. There was something about him, she could feel it.
“Oh my dear Mr. Rowan, I think you may have some misconceptions about me,” the man replied lifting his hands revealing the handcuffs fastening his wrists together.
“Ah, Mr. Tom Rowan, isn’t it?” Duncan said, his high fluty voice cutting across the room. “How nice to finally meet you.”
“I wish I could say the same,” Tom replied.
“Hmm,” Duncan mused, with half a smile on his face as he walked round the desk. “And who are you?” he asked, walking towards Kelly.
“Erm, Kelly, Kelly Humphreys,” Kelly said before hastily adding, “sir. Sire... Sir.”
“Ah, so nice to see someone with manners finally,” Duncan said with a heavy sarcastic air. “I see that our visiting aliens have ensnared yet another innocent young life in their net, to destroy.”
“Now look here,” the old soldier spoke up. “I’ve known the Doctor for many years, and Mr. Rowan, and they’re not the sort to do that.”
“Mr. Lethbridge-Stewart,” Duncan said turning round. “I’ve already told you the correct way to address me. And I have reports here that go contrary to what you say. These so called ‘Time Lords’ have been visiting our world for millennia, taking young people away from their homes and loved ones. These young people are so tainted by these aliens they are willing to throw their lives away. Indeed, many of them do, they are taken away from their homes and never seen again.” Duncan paused and walked up to Tom, looking up at him intently. “Do you deny that?”
“Yes,” Tom replied with a scowl, looking down on Duncan.
“Then tell me,” Duncan said, turning round with a smile on his face, “if you can, the whereabouts of a Miss Jessica Lawton; reported missing by her Aunt some months ago. She was meant to be going on a round-the-world trip with some friends, but she never arrived, never left for that trip.”
Duncan paused as he reached the desk. Kelly looked across at Tom and could see the hurt and anger on his face.
“She was last seen in the company of yourself and the alien interloper known as ‘the Doctor’, in October,” Duncan continued, drumming his fingers on a brown folder on the desk. “I could give you lists of those who disappeared after meeting Time Lords. And they are the lucky ones; the list of the dead is far, far longer.” Duncan paused as he turned round again and looked at Kelly. “And now this one has ensnared you Kelly Humphreys. He’s dragged you into his acts of treachery, dragged you onto the wrong side of the law. Let me guess, you’ve not got a criminal record of any history of trouble with the police?”
“No,” Kelly said, shifting uncomfortably. “But I trust him.”
“Why?” Duncan asked. “You don’t know him, you don’t owe him anything. Can’t you see; this is what they do?”
The Master chuckled from where he was stood under guard. “Thank you Mr. Duncan,” he said. “I’ve never been so amused by someone so deranged before.”
“Quiet,” Duncan snapped rounding on him. “You are the worst criminal of the lot of them.”
“Then may I ask why I’m here?” the Master asked with a sly smile.
“You are here,” Duncan said, “because you will have a proper trial for the crimes you have committed on this planet, and on others.”
“You know nothing of my activities,” the Master said softly, glowering at Duncan. “If you did, you would not have me stood here.”
“So you admit to them,” Duncan said.
“I have never made any secret of who or what I am,” the Master replied, “unlike you, Mr. Duncan, or your so-called allies.”
“Allies?” Tom and Kelly chorused at the same time.
“You class my activities in the seventies and in September as crimes, class me as a criminal,” the Master continued. “Yes, humanity is a lesser species to me and Mr. Rowan, although he seems to have some misplaces affection for them, like the good Doctor. Although that aside, they do seem to have some good taste in travelling companions. Mr. Duncan, you make the misplaced assumption that we are all the same. Like you humans, we’re not. Many humans on this planet are strong individuals, many are like parasites infesting this world, and then there’s you; sitting here in your usurped castle like a carcinoma.”
“What the hell are you babbling about?” Tom asked, raising his voice to cut in over the Master.
“Mr. Rowan, I think you’ll find there is a cancer on this world, in this country. And like most cancers, we see the effects long before the tumour is found. Our Mr. Duncan here is one such effect,” the Master purred.
“What do you mean?” Tom asked.
“There are no descendents of Elizabeth the first,” the Master explained, “least of all, you, Mr. Duncan,” the Master added turning purposefully towards Duncan.
“I guess your intelligence on our planet is incomplete,” Duncan replied. “There’s a new history now. I am the descendant of Elizabeth, with documents and backing to prove it.”
“Made with Ikthaari technology?” the Master asked, eyeing a device sat on Duncan’s desk.
Tom looked intently at the Master, who was still staring at Duncan. “I knew he knew more than he was telling me,” he whispered to Kelly.
“You know them?” Duncan asked looking at the Master astounded.
“Yes, he knows us,” a new voice, guttural, growled.
Kelly turned to locate the source. Stood, silhouetted in the doorway was the figure of a man. She looked closely at the figure as it stepped into the light. It was wearing the same red and gold uniform as the other guards in the tower, only this time covered in strange decoration. But that wasn’t what held her attention. The figures face was distinctly alien. Despite having two eyes, a mouth and nose, the aliens face was totally smooth and featureless. The skin colour was like a not-quite ripe orange, a mottled orange hinted with green. The creature had no ears, just holes in the side of its head and a humourless, lipless mouth. Its eyes, she noticed as it passed, were orbs of gold with a horizontal black, slit-like pupil. The eyes put her in mind of a goat, except when the alien blinked and the eyelids came in from both sides of the eyes.
“He is responsible for our being here,” the figure said, walking round the Master, not taking his eyes off him.
“Former General Kortath, late of the Tsalwie,” the Master said. “I think you’ll find it was your own doing, Krra Kortath.”
“What’s a ‘Krra’?” Kelly whispered, leaning into Tom.
“I imagine, knowing the Master, that it’s the Ikthaari equivalent of ‘Mr.’,” Tom replied. “The Master can be hugely polite and charming when he wants to be. But be careful, that’s when he’s at his most dangerous.”
“It’s still ‘General’.” Kortath replied.
“Funny,” the Master mused. “When last we met, I’m sure you were stripped of rank and dishonourably discharged from the Tsalwie task force.”
“As a result of your interference,” Kortath snarled.
“So all this is a petty revenge scheme,” the Brigadier asked. “You disrupt my world, my country, for him?”
“General Kortath contacted me,” Duncan said. “He could see me for the great man I am and am destined to be. He will provide me with the means to make Britain great again. I am proud to be British and so should every British subject. We once controlled the globe, and under my leadership, we will again.”
“Oh pull the other one,” Tom laughed. “I think you’ll find that imperialism went out with steam power.”
“How little you know,” Duncan smiled. “Across the Atlantic, America is making plans. Only their capitalism is different and subtle. Have you noticed how there are McDonalds in every British town, in most countries of the world? We will beat them to it, take back our former colonies and unify the Commonwealth under one strong British lead.”
“I guess you mean you?” Tom asked.
“Precisely,” Duncan smiled. “Look at the mess these countries got themselves in without our lead. Look at the strength Britain is under my lead. Imagine that strength channelled around the globe; one giant Empire under a strong British rule. With the technological wonders the Ikthaari will share, we will lead the world into a new and stable dawn. We used to rule America, we shall do it again. Britain is not the lapdog for the president of a former colony. England used to rule more of France than the French did. We shall take that back.”
“You’re talking about invasion,” Kelly said astounded.
“I don’t have to take condemnation from a traitor,” Duncan sneered.
“You’re certifiable, mate,” Tom said, shaking his head.
“And you are a traitor,” Duncan replied.
“Do your homework, pal,” Tom scoffed. “How can I be a traitor when I’m not a British subject?”
“An illegal alien then,” Duncan replied. “If you don’t exist then there’s no paperwork headache relating to your death.”
“I think,” the Master cut in, side stepping around the room, “that we should hear from General, sorry, Krra Kortath. He is being suspiciously quiet.”
“You know as well as I do the strategic importance of this world.” Kortath said. “The Sontaran/Rutan conflict has reached here several times. Even the Daleks and Cybermen have tried it. With our help, Earth need not fear these aggressors.”
“A transparent means to invade,” the Master casually said.
“Help,” Duncan corrected. “They will help me and imagine the coup de grace of establishing official first contact with an alien race."
“We shall aid Earth and I shall regain a full pardon and take my rightful place on the supreme council,” Kortath said.
“I believe the appropriate vernacular of Earth is; you can’t kid a kidder,” the Master said. “You’re destroying this world and I can’t allow that.
The statement caused Tom and the Brigadier to stare at the Master, their eyes wide and Tom’s mouth agape, lost for words.
“You can’t allow it?” Duncan asked, almost laughing. “After the innumerable attempts you’ve made to conquer or destroy this planet?”
“Exactly,” the Master purred with an evil smile, “that’s my job. And it’s much more fun when the Doctor is present to play the game,” he added, looking purposefully at Tom.
“You sure know how to make someone feel special,” Tom replied sardonically.
“Well, if you two are going to have a domestic, I’d rather you do it in your cell,” Duncan sneered.
“Our cell?” Tom queried, raising an eyebrow.
“Indeed,” Duncan said. “You think I brought you here for just a little chat? Oh no, I’ve other arrangements for the two of you,” he said, wagging his finger first at the Master and then at Tom as he walked around the front of his desk before stopping in front of Kelly. “And what of you?”
“What do you mean?” Kelly asked, feeling suddenly conspicuous.
“Who are you with?” Duncan asked. “Will you be loyal and side with me, or will you betray your king and country and side with this alien? Don’t forget, he persuaded a young and promising soldier to betray her friends and comrades; a young soldier who is now awaiting court martial and trial for treason.”
Kelly felt her mouth go dry and her palms start to sweat. She shifted uncomfortably and looked across at Tom. “Are you sure about this? You’re right?” she asked.
Tom nodded slowly.
“I trust you,” she said stepping over to him and looking up into his eyes. They were heavy and sad, almost pleading. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and stood up on tip-toes and placed a light kiss on his lips. “I trust you,” she repeated before turning to face Duncan, feeling bolder now she had just given Tom a long wanted kiss. “I’m with him,” she said.
“So be it,” Duncan said, turning his back on her and walking around and sitting behind his desk. “And what of you, Mr. Lethbridge-Stewart?”
“All I can say, Mr. Duncan,” the Brigadier said, pulling himself to his full height, “is that I’m glad I’m retired. I would never take a salute for you, sir. You are not my king, and you never will be.”
“Very well, traitors the lot of you,” Duncan said coldly, turning to some of the masked figures. “Take them to their cell. It will be a bit of a squeeze for them now, but they’ve made their bed, they shall lie in it.”
*
Sitting back in his chair, Duncan watched gleefully as the Master, Brigadier, Tom and Kelly were led away by four of Kortath’s Tsalwie soldiers.
“You’re keeping them in the premises?” Kortath asked, walking up to Duncan.
“Allow me to fill you in on the history of the Tower of London, General,” Duncan said, turning his chair to face Kortath and folding his hands. “This building has been used for centuries for royalty and imprisonment of prisoners. There is no escape from here, especially not with your taskforce stationed here. Perhaps the most interesting part of this buildings history is that traitors here never survived long. We have a long-standing tradition in Britain that executions are carried out at dawn.”
“If it were me,” Kortath said, “I’d have taken any insurgents out to execution immediately and had them shot in the back. Insurgents deserve nothing less.”
“That is where we differ, General,” Duncan said. “This is my country, and I will do it according to tradition. They will die, fear not.”
“I sincerely hope that you are right,” Kortath said. “The Master has greatly dishonoured me, ruined my reputation. I would greatly appreciate the satisfaction of taking his life myself."
“I’m sure I can arrange that,” Duncan said.
“I am gratified,” Kortath said. “Now, if you will excuse me.”
“Of course,” Duncan smiled, indicating the door. “And I trust that you will join me for dinner later,” he added as Kortath walked to the door.
“If you wish,” Kortath replied. As he left the room, Kortath smiled. Duncan was right that these insurgents would die, although he wasn’t going to be right about when they would die. He was going to ensure that these Time Lords and their co-conspirators would die before the night was out.
