Post by Fitz Kreiner on Jun 1, 2012 19:22:54 GMT
Thursday, December 23rd, 1999
“Thanks to the intervention of the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce, led by former Brigadier-General Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, it has been revealed that James Duncan had fabricated the evidence of his heritage and by use of political manipulation, had duped his way to taking control of Great Britain.
“James Duncan’s body was removed from the Tower of London after he took his own life. His believed accomplice, Sir Daniel Ashfield, is still reported as missing and is wanted by the police for actions surmount to treason.
“The Prime Minister has ordered a public enquiry into the events leading up to the last four months. Already three MPs have been arrested for acts of treason, and are being held on remand at New Scotland Yard.
“The Queen has returned to Buckingham Palace and has announced that Brigadier-General Lethbridge-Stewart is to receive a knighthood in the new years honours list, the BBC can exclusively reveal. All reports that an alien was seen during the incidents on Sunday have been revealed to be a hoax by officials.
“BBC Radio 2 will be hosting a special three hour celebratory programme tonight at eight o’clock, hosted by Terry Wogan,”
Tom reached over and turned the radio down and turned back to the television. The sound was off but the pictures were showing images of the last few days. All mention of him and the Master had apparently been wiped from the news. Of the Master there had still been no sign.
Tom felt hollow. Sure, he had helped bring down Duncan, but the man had been killed. The Master seemed to know something about it, but he hadn’t said anything. There was something about it that deeply troubled Tom. He remembered the Master telling him there was something akin to a cancer in the heart of the world. That, linked with the mysterious disappearance of Ashfield and Duncan’s death deeply worried the young Time Lord. He realised that there would be no way he would manage to investigate anything over the next week, with the holidays so close now.
Tom’s thoughts strayed to Kelly. The girl had been distraught after the events. There was a part of him that felt as though he’d betrayed her. He’d been there for her for a couple of days after, spending the next few days with her until her sister and brother in law returned from their holiday.
A knock at the door brought him out of his reverie. “Come in,” he shouted.
“I’ve got a bit of news,” Morris said, as he entered the lab.
“The Master?” Tom asked.
Morris shook his head. “No such luck. No, it’s that woman, Andrea Rogers.”
“I thought she was stable?” Tom asked, the worst immediately coming to his mind.
“No, no,” Morris said. “I mean, she was, is, she was moved to an open ward yesterday. We had her under guard.”
“Yeah, I know that,” Tom replied. “Ally told me yesterday.”
“Yes, well,” Morris said, shifting uncomfortably. “It seems that she managed to escape her guards. Not even any CCTV of her leaving the hospital.”
Tom gave a soft laugh. “I might have guessed,” he said. “I imagine that it was something the Master said to her before he disappeared. I should have kept a better eye on the man. I might have known he’d do this.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, Tom,” Morris said. “You’ve told me before, you, the Doctor and Jess met him in his personal future. He wouldn’t have stayed locked up for long. He didn’t last time according to the reports.”
“Yeah, but-” Tom started only to be cut off by Morris.
“If you’d kept him here, you’d never have met him, and I’m sure that’s not meant to be. Look, I don’t pretend to understand all this temporal paradox stuff and I’m by no means a Trekkie or X-vian, but I’ve seen the odd episodes to know that thinking about it hurts my head.” Morris paused before turning back to Tom. “Have you any plans for Christmas?”
“Hang around here and hope the Doc and Jess come back,” Tom replied, not even looking up. “And try to figure out who it was killed Duncan.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if it wasn’t the Master himself,” Morris replied.
“I know,” Tom said. “It’s just that, well, the Master had nothing on him that could have done anything like that, it would have required quite a large battery to provide the level of electric shock that Duncan received. It was almost as though he was hit in the chest with a high voltage cable.”
“Maybe he was,” Morris replied.
“There was no time for that,” Tom said.
“An Ikthaari with a grudge maybe,” Morris put in. “There’s no use thinking over it, it’s one of those things we’re not likely to learn about.”
“I guess,” Tom replied sulkily.
“Look, what I was trying to say was; do you want to come back to ours for Christmas,” Morris said. “Charlotte won’t mind, she always makes too much for Christmas Dinner as it is, could do with someone else to help eat it. That is, unless you’ve got other plans, that girl?”
“No, I’d not thought about it,” Tom said. “I don’t know whether she’d be up for seeing my again in case something else happened. She was rather shaken over the events of the last week or so.”
“Not as cut out for this sort of stuff as we are, eh?” Morris said, trying to make light of the situation. He could see that it was another of the things troubling Tom.
“I guess not,” he said. “You start to forget after a while, become accustomed to it. I lived in the forty first century for a while and things like this are close to everyday life. You see aliens on a daily basis, there’s always political intrigue and galactic wars. People of the twentieth century, it’s not normal for them. Well, unless you’re in UNIT. They just said on the radio that the Ikthaari were a hoax. And you know what’s funny; the population will bloody believe it!
“Sometimes, I marvel at you humans. I try to distance myself from the Time Lords after what they did to me, I’ve kept my human cover name as my own, I look human and sound human, but underneath I’m not. But you, you amaze me, you keep going on, stoic and parochial in your beliefs. You’ll happily believe that there are no aliens, even when they’re right in front of you. Even the first contact, not everyone believed it. Not until aliens began to be more commonplace on Earth.
“This whole event; I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s all forgotten within months. It’ll probably not even make the history books. People will just carry on as normal. Why? Because it doesn’t affect everyone like it does us. Leeds, Glasgow, Sheffield, Birmingham, Nottingham; they’ve probably not noticed the difference. London seems to get it a lot, but even so, ask most people on the street; no one will remember all the events that have happened in the past thirty years.
“You know what really makes it amazing? You’re happy. You don’t seem to care. You get on with it. You keep calm and carry on! It amazes me and I can see why the Doctor loves you so much.” Tom paused and closed his eyes, shaking his head slowly. “It’s something I’m fast beginning to love about you all. All your bad sides included.”
Morris sat there quietly and listened to Toms speech. “We do our best,” he said. “I guess that’s all we can do.”
“Exactly,” Tom said turning to face Morris once again. “All this and what are you doing; celebrating Christmas! It’s amazing the human resolve, amazing,” Tom trailed off before standing up and grabbing his hat and coat. “Right, shall we?”
Morris was taken aback briefly. “You’re accepting?” he asked.
“You’re the only offer I’ve had,” Tom said, clapping Morris on the shoulder, “and the closest I’ve got to friends round here are you UNIT guys. Ally is off with Mark and Suzie is spending it with her family.”
As they reached the door, the telephone rang, stopping them in their tracks. Tom looked at it puzzled; it was an external call, and there were precious few of them in this lab. Whenever he gave out the UNIT number to a contact, it was via the main switchboard so the call always came through internally.
“Hang on,” he said, stepping back into the lab.
Morris leant against the door as the Time Lord dropped his hat and coat over the nearest bench and re-entered the lab.
Tom picked up the phone. “Hello?”
“Ah Mr. Rowan, good to hear your voice again.” The Master's voice almost purred through the receiver.
“You.” Tom breathed sitting down and indicating frantically to Morris to trace the call. “Where the hell are you?”
“Oh, come now Mr. Rowan, you expect me to tell you that? Although, I must thank you for allowing my escape. I would imagine that you're wishing you killed me when you had the chance.”
“That's where we're different.” Tom replied. “I'd not stoop to your level, I'm nothing like you.”
“Oh, Mr. Rowan, that's where you're wrong. You're more like me than you realise; you just don't know it yet. As I was saying, thank you for your assistance, and enjoy your time on Earth, and pass on my regards to the Doctor and the lovely Miss Lawton if and when you see them again. Oh, and Merry Christmas.”
Tom stared at the receiver as the line went dead. He was furious at himself for letting the Master get to him, and for letting the man escape, again.
