The Lord Chancellor of Gallifrey looked up from his desk as the door to
his chamber in the Panopticon opened abruptly.
“It is appropriate to knock before entering my office,” he
said to the Chancellery Guard captain who quickly removed his helmet and
stood to attention. “What is it?”
“A Type 40 TARDIS has been detected entering Gallifreyan space,”
the captain said. “The Castellan believes… that it is….”
“Sweet Mother of Chaos!” The Chancellor swore, standing up
so quickly his chair almost tipped over backwards. “It can’t
be! What is happening with it?”
“Nothing, yet, sir,” the captain answered. “The Castellan
sent me to fetch you to the control centre.”
“How considerate of him!” The Chancellor responded dryly.
“He wishes me to watch while my brother’s time capsule is
blasted out of existence?”
“I….” The Captain was lost for words. The Chancellor
was known for his often unGallifreyan emotionalism, but it was the first
time he had personally had to face it.
“I’m coming, obviously,” The Chancellor added. “You
don’t need to escort me. I know the way to the Transduction Barrier
control centre. It is, after all, within the same building as the High
Council chambers.”
The Captain kept close escort, all the same, and the two men set a brisk
pace without actually appearing to be running or displaying any obvious
urgency. The turbo lift that brought them up the top of the Citadel’s
central tower felt as if it was taking an interminable length of time,
even though, as a Time Lord, The Chancellor was fully aware, in every
fibre of his being, of the evenly measured passage of time.
They emerged into the control room where a dozen members of the Civil
Service’s External Transport Service manned wide control panels
with huge video screens before them showing sectors of space outside of
the Transduction Barrier that enclosed Gallifrey in an impenetrable shield
against all possible forms of attack.
Three of the screens currently focussed on one object outside of the Barrier.
Its outward physical form was a metallic grey cabinet a little taller
than a grown man and wide enough for him to pass through a door on one
of the six sides.
“It’s definitely a Type 40 capsule?” The Chancellor
asked the chief controller.
“It’s THE Type 40 capsule,” he answered. “The
one stolen by the Renegade fifty years ago.”
The Renegade! Chancellor D’Arpexia-De Lœngbærrow shuddered
at the use of such a pejorative word. In the privacy of his own Chamber
he had used a very different word for the man they believed to be piloting
that TARDIS. It had dumbfounded the Captain that he could speak that word
aloud. Elsewhere in the Citadel it would be virtually a blasphemy.
“Why has he returned?” The Chancellor asked. It was a rhetorical
question, spoken aloud, but hardly expecting a response.
“Not by choice,” answered the Castellan, Lord Patrexean. “The
capsule is badly damaged. It appears to have automatically triggered a
recall protocol.”
“Damaged? Then… it is possible the TARDIS is unmanned. The…
pilot… might be injured… or dead?”
“Those possibilities were not considered,” The Castellan replied.
“The capsule is under surveillance, but it is not possible to ascertain
how many lifeforms are aboard.”
“Then consider them right now,” The Chancellor ordered. “Bring
the TARDIS through the Transduction Barrier and have a medical team on
standby.”
Chrístõ woke slowly with his head aching badly. He still
hadn’t opened his eyes when he raised his hand to his forehead and
was aware that he was wearing psychic dampening cuffs. He was being restrained
both physically and mentally.
He risked opening his eyes and saw a glass cage around him. He was in
custody on Gallifrey. This was the high security cell in the Castellan’s
department of the Citadel.
Why?
The last time he woke up in a cell it was when he had got drunk with Lord
Azmael. The details had been hazy, but at least there had been details.
This time, he knew he hadn’t been drinking.
His TARDIS had been caught up in the middle of a space battle between
the Rutans and Sontarans. The capsule was buffeted by their thermal weapons
and the time rotor had jammed, preventing him from getting away. He had
been trying to repair it when the TARDIS was hit twice in succession and
tipped over. He had fallen against the console and there were sparks and
loose conduits flying around. He remembered a live cable close to his
arm. He might have been electrocuted. He remembered banging his head badly.
He was sure he broke a limb and perhaps some ribs, too, when the TARDIS
tipped again and the floor became a wall.
But how did he wake up from all of that in a maximum security cell on
Gallifrey?
He sat up and noted that he had electronic manacles on his feet, too.
He was wearing nothing but a pair of white shorts and a bandage around
his chest. It was loose and he pulled it off. There was no wound beneath
and he felt fine apart from the pounding in his head. The bandage dissolved
in his hands. It was designed to do that. He had seen prisoners in Hext’s
Tower with wounds covered with bio-bandages. They disintegrated once they
were no longer in contact with the skin.
That prevented the prisoners from using the bandage as a weapon or –
in extreme cases – a means of killing themselves.
Did somebody imagine he might do either of those things?
Of course, he could see nothing outside the cell. The glass was polarised
so that he could see nothing but blackness beyond, but for all he knew
the entire Chancellery Guard could be watching him.
He sat down again on the black lacquered floor and adopted a meditative
position. At least he might get rid of the headache before deciding what,
if any, his options were.
The Lord Chancellor looked through the polarised glass at the prisoner.
His two hearts were more conflicted than they had been since the day his
brother so notoriously left Gallifrey, or the day the High Council declared
him a Renegade and thus removed him from the family line. From that day
forward The Chancellor had no brother. The thoughts that conflicted him
were officially meaningless.
But erasing a name from the history of the Gallifreyan aristocracy wasn’t
the same as erasing it from the memories of his immediate family. True,
there had been conflicts between them in recent years – bitter ones
that tainted earlier memories of close sibling affection.
As a child, yes, The Chancellor had been close to his brother. He had
sought to emulate him in every possible way except that yearning for adventure
and the trouble that went with it, and his obstinate refusal to accept
any measure of authority over him, even the very highest in the land.
The Chancellor, patriarch of two Oldblood Houses, one by birthright, the
other by transference of his disgraced brother’s inheritance, had
always been loyal to Gallifrey, and to its sometimes stringent code of
ethics. He was a born politician and a shrewd businessman. In both spheres
he had strong allies.
And all would have been shocked by the thoughts going through his mind
right now. They were neither political nor business-like.
He was thinking about the last year of his official childhood, when his
older brother had taught him to ride a bicycle, taken him to see the roan
herds in their winter coats roaming the snow-covered plain, read strange
stories about magic boxes and talking animals to him at night, taken him
camping on the beautiful planet called the Eye of Orion….
“Chancellor, it is not appropriate for you to be here when I question
the prisoner,” said the Castellan approaching across the glass walkway
that separated the maximum security cage from the rest of the Chancellery
Guard headquarters. A void that was only partially in the same congruent
reality sucked at the eyeball either side and would almost certainly suck
a falling body into the dungeon dimensions. The Chancellor wasn’t
afraid of heights, or depths, but he didn’t like that walkway. He
stepped carefully across it and breathed a sigh of relief on the other
side.
Chrístõ opened his eyes and stood as he felt a presence
close by. He looked at the man outside the now transparent wall. He wore
the insignia of the Castellan, but he didn’t recognise him at all.
The Castellan he knew was Lord Braxietel, a friend of his father’s.
“Why am I here?” he asked. “What is happening?”
“A very good question, malfeasant,” The Castellan answered
coldly. “Why did you return to Gallifrey?”
“I don’t know. I was not intending to do so,” Chrístõ
answered. “But why shouldn’t I? It is my home.”
“It has not been your home for more than fifty years,” The
Castellan snapped back. You know full well the penalty for returning.”
“No, I don’t,” Chrístõ answered. “I…
fifty years? I don’t understand. I’m not… this isn’t….
What year is it?”
“I am asking the questions, not you,” The Castellan insisted.
“What is your current assignment?”
“Assignment? I don’t HAVE an assignment,” Chrístõ
replied.
“Your assignment for the Celestial Intervention Agency.”
“I certainly don’t have an assignment from Hext,” Chrístõ
insisted. “I was travelling to my home on Beta Delta IV. I teach
English literature in a high school. I stay away from Gallifrey, from
its politics, and from the Agency as much as possible.”
“That is a lie.”
“It is not. I don’t lie. My honour as a Time Lord forbids….”
“You have no honour,” The Castellan snapped angrily. “You
are a Renegade and a criminal.”
“I am neither, and I demand to speak to a member of the High Council.
This… is utterly incorrect. I am innocent of any crime you may bring
against me.”
“We shall see,” The Castellan said. “We shall see about
that. Meanwhile you will remain here and you will have no contact with
any citizen of this planet except my guards.”
“That is….” Chrístõ began to protest,
but The Castellan turned away. The wall automatically darkened. There
was nothing he could say now that would be given any hearing.
It didn’t make sense. Fifty years? But it wasn’t possible
to travel into Gallifrey’s past or future. No wonder they thought
he was a Renegade. That was one of the Cardinal Laws of Time.
He shuddered. What would they do to him for breaking that law, even inadvertently
as it appeared to be? What could he say in his defence when he didn’t
even remember how he arrived on his home planet?
The Chancellor had gone to the Chancellery control room. He watched The
Castellan questioning the prisoner on a monitor. He noted the green lights
that flashed sequentially whenever the prisoner spoke.
“He is telling the truth,” he said.
“He appears to be,” answered the Guard who sat at the monitoring
desk. “But that could easily be a memory implant. He might even
have done it to himself to appear innocent.”
“That is very unlikely. Besides, look at him. Look at his medical
files. He is NOT the man the malfeasance order relates to. He is barely
two hundred years old. He is….”
“He is a genetic match to the criminal who evaded our justice system,”
The Castellan said. “That alone would be enough to proceed with
a trial in any ordinary circumstance.”
“This is NOT an ordinary circumstance.”
“Which is why the Lord President does not wish an ordinary trial
to be held. The High Council will meet in emergency Session at nightfall
to discuss the matter.”
“And what happens to him in the meantime? I want to speak to him.
I need to hear his story.”
“Any contact with the prisoner would make it mandatory for you to
recuse yourself from the Session on grounds of personal bias.”
“Do they seriously think this matter is not personal to me anyway?”
The Chancellor asked. “That is ridiculous.”
“Perhaps your abstention from the matter would be advisable, then,
Lord D’Arpexia,” The Castellan suggested.
“I think not. And my full title is Lord D’Arpexia-De Lœngbærrow.
Do not forget it. Honour and loyalty are long held precepts of both Houses.”
“That is questionable, all things considered,” The Castellan
responded.
“Lord Castellan, even in these unusual circumstances, the Honour
of the House of Arpexia and the House of Lœngbærrow are NOT matters
of speculation. I charge you to mind your manners. As for the Session,
I will be attending. Somebody should be a voice of reason in that assembly.”
The Castellan did not reply to that. Perhaps he was minding his manners.
The Chancellor turned away and left the control room. He glanced across
the void to that chilling form of solitary confinement, cut off from all
telepathic thought, every sound or speck of light from outside blocked,
even the prisoner’s awareness of the passage of time in custody
was stalled because of a null time field within the cell.
And what was the terrible crime that prisoner had committed? At worst,
he had been too passionate in his dissent from the accepted political
thinking.
Was that really such a terrible thing after all? Should it be an act of
Treason to disagree with the High Council? He, himself, was the second
highest of them and he sometimes disagreed with them. When it came to
the isolationist views of Lord President Gant himself, Chancellor D’Arpexia-De
Lœngbærrow had often spoken in opposition. He would continue to do
so whenever he felt that he was going too far. Would he, too, be designated
a Renegade one of these days?
A stubborn streak that everyone used to say he got from his brother –
before they stopped talking about his brother – made him think that
he would be proud rather than ashamed to be so branded in these severe
times. Then he remembered his wife and children and his father and mother.
He remembered the honour of two great Oldblood Houses that lived in him.
As much as he privately thought that Gallifrey was heading for a dark
time in its political history, he knew he had to keep himself from attracting
notoriety. He had too much to lose.
“My Lord….” A young Chancellery Guard barred his way
at the bottom of the stairwell he had taken without consciously thinking
about it. “You may not enter here without The Castellan’s
permission.”
“I am Lord Chancellor,” he reminded the young and slightly
nervous guard. “I am above the Castellan. I wish to see the prisoner’s
time capsule. I understand it is here.”
“Sir… My Lord….”
He got his way. He stepped into the secure compound where the default
capsule was subject to the most powerful forcefield possible. He had to
insist that it was dropped before he could get close.
“We have not been able to open it,” the guard said. “That
is why the forcefield was placed upon it. The capsule could not be disabled
any other way to prevent it being taken by the Renegade.”
“How is he supposed to do that when he is under extreme incarceration
elsewhere?” Chancellor D'Arpexia De Lœngbærrow enquired. He
stepped up to the door and put his hand upon it. He wasn’t entirely
surprised when there was a slight click and the door opened.
The guard was. He took several seconds to follow The Chancellor inside
the TARDIS. By then he had got to the console and removed the time-space
element from the drive console and concealed it inside his robe.
The TARDIS was in a bad state after some kind of violent confrontation,
but many of the circuits had auto-repaired by now. This was the point
of the automatic recall. Once safely returned to Gallifrey the auto-repair
would begin to analyse and repair essential functions.
The rest were not essential for time-space travel. The TARDIS owner would
have to sort them out for himself.
A movement out of the corner of his eye surprised him at first, then he
remembered something else from his childhood.
“Humphrey!” he called out. The darkness creature emerged from
the shadows. The guard retreated to the door in fright. Chancellor D'Arpexia
De Lœngbærrow, a serious man, laughed as he was enveloped in a shadow
that ‘hugged’ telepathically. “Hello, old friend. Yes,
you know me, don’t you? I’m glad.”
Despite the friendly hug, Humphrey was worried. The Chancellor tried to
reassure him, but there didn’t seem to be very much he could say.
“You stay in here. You’ll be safe, no matter what happens.”
Humphrey keened softly. The Chancellor felt like joining him in it. This
was a difficult situation, made more difficult by the minute.
“There’s nothing else to see here,” he said to the guard.
“Get out now. I will close the door and it will remain closed until
the matter is resolved – one way or another.”
Chrístõ passed the uncertain time in mediation. He didn’t
even know how long it was. The null time effect inside the cage even disrupted
his internal body clock. He knew it must have been hours.
What was it all about? He still didn’t understand, because nobody
would tell him anything. Nobody had even spoken to him except for The
Castellan, and he had told him nothing.
He sat in the middle of the floor and let himself drop into a first level
trance. It was the only way he knew to endure this isolation and uncertainty,
by letting his mind free of it altogether. He couldn’t reach beyond
the walls of the cage, of course. He was cut off from everyone he had
ever known on the planet of his birth – his father, his brother,
any friend he might have counted on.
That was something he couldn’t dwell upon. He knew he was almost
certainly being observed all the time. He couldn’t show any emotional
weakness in front of his enemies.
He closed his eyes and straightened his back and limbs and let his mind
clear of all possible distraction, all fears and apprehensions. It wasn’t
easy. It tested all of his will, but he managed it.
“He doesn’t look like a criminal,” said the guard keeping
close watch outside the cage. “He’s so calm and… untroubled.”
“He has no shame, that is why,” answered The Castellan. “He
betrayed our world. Do not be fooled by outward appearances.”
The Lord Chancellor stepped into the Panopticon. It was strangely quiet,
closed to all but the High Council itself. The public gallery was empty
of students and interested parties. Even the ordinary councillors were
kept out of this secret session.
He took his place on the hexagonal dais in the centre of the panopticon
where the High Council sat around five sides of a table made of black
obsidian. The sixth side was detached and raised a foot higher than the
others. The Lord High President sat there, highest of all men on Gallifrey.
Lord President Gant sat in that high seat like a living god, his expression
humourless and his dark eyes glowering. He was a strong politician who
was a good friend to those who supported him.
But Chancellor D’Arpexia de Lœngbærrow had never supported
him. He didn’t vote for him as President. He rarely agreed with
his policies. He didn’t even like him as a person.
He was expecting this to be difficult.
“The quorum is complete,” said the Premier Cardinal. “We
may begin this extraordinary meeting of the High Council in the year of
Rassilon 345??43. The only item on the agenda, the disposal of Prisoner
S?ß?¥T.”
“Disposal?” The Senior Pradhan, an archaic title for the oldest
member of the High Council, queried the word before the Lord Chancellor
himself had a chance to express an opinion. Several others, including
the First Secretary and Gold Usher thought it sounded too drastic.
“Is this a meeting of the High Council or a tyro grammar lesson?”
Gant snapped. “The prisoner, already convicted in his absence of
High Treason, gross Interference, and theft of a time capsule….”
“The Type 4 TARDIS was not technically stolen,” the Premier
Cardinal pointed out. “He owned the capsule outright. But he left
Gallifrey without proper authorisation, using a dangerous trick to open
the Transduction Barrier.”
“It matters not. The removal of the time capsule is the lesser charge,
and in any case, having returned to Gallifrey outside of his proper time
stream he has committed an even greater crime, the punishment for which
is death.”
“He crossed the time stream accidentally, in a damaged capsule,
while unconscious and suffering life-threatening wounds,” Chancellor
D’Arpexia de Lœngbærrow pointed out. “There is room for
clemency in this case.”
“Your view in this matter is hardly unbiased,” the Premier
Cardinal told him. “A plea for clemency from your lips needs to
be taken with due consideration of other facts.”
“Nevertheless, it is a valid plea,” the Minister for Extra-Terrestrial
Affairs added. “The prisoner… in his own timeline… has
not yet committed the offences listed by the Premier Cardinal. He does
not even know that he committed them… or will commit them. He has
been kept in isolation since his arrest. We cannot punish him for what
he has not done.”
“Not done, YET,” Gant interjected. “But he IS, without
doubt, the traitor and renegade. His bio-identity has been confirmed.
We have the chance to deal with a poisonous opposition to the peace and
stability of this planet once and for all.”
“You mean you will have him executed for what he has not yet done?”
Chancellor D’Arpexia de Lœngbærrow could not disguise his outrage.
“You cannot do that.”
“Cannot?” Gant’s anger rose. A lesser man than the Patriarch
of the House of Arpexia would have been cowed. “There is nothing
I cannot do. I am the Lord High President of the Time Lords. I can do
anything I choose to do.”
“You CANNOT execute an innocent man retrospectively to prevent him
being your chief political opponent,” The Chancellor insisted. His
own deep brown eyes were wells of anger that matched Gant’s. “It
is immoral… it is dishonourable… and it is against every precept.
To kill him when he is still a young man… before he was married,
before he had a child of his own…. That is exactly why the protocols
are in place in the first place, why Time Lords are not allowed to interfere
with each other’s timelines. You CANNOT do it.”
Gold Usher and the Senior Pradhan agreed straight away with The Chancellor’s
point. So did two more High Councillors. Others remained stonily silent
and looked towards Lord President Gant.
“Yes,” The Chancellor continued. “Yes, I will no doubt
lose if it comes to a vote. You have bribed and intimidated enough members
of the High Council to side with you on even the most outrageous injustice.
I know I risk my liberty and the safety of my family in opposing you.
But this time you have gone too far, Rassilon Gant. Enough is enough.”
There was a tense silence. He thought he might have swayed one or two
of Gant’s opponents, but some of those who had agreed with him now
looked nervous about taking such a dangerous stand. The next few moments
would determine not only his own future, but the future of his whole world.
Chrístõ looked up in surprise as a man stepped into the
cage. After hours of isolation it was the first time anyone had come physically
near to him.
He was even more surprised when the man used a sonic laser to remove the
cuffs from his wrists and ankles. The sudden release of pressure on his
psychic nerves left him dizzy and disorientated, but he didn’t have
time to worry about that.
“Chrístõ, you must come at once. There may not be
much time.”
He was too surprised by the urgency of the instruction to realise he had
been addressed by name for the first time since he awoke. He followed
the stranger out of the cage and across the walkway with the void either
side. He had to step over the bodies of three Chancellery Guards and he
stopped to examine one of them, but his companion urged him on.
“They’re just stunned,” he assured him. “They’ll
be all right. Come on. We have to get off this corridor quickly.”
“Who are you?” Chrístõ asked as he watched his
rescuer open a panel in the wall that led to a narrow passage. “What’s
this?”
“It’s a secret passage used by the Celestial Intervention
Agency to keep an eye on what goes on in the Citadel.”
“You’re CIA?”
“Yes.”
“Paracell Hext sent you?”
“He did.”
“He’s… still my friend?”
“He told me not to say anything. For your own good, Chrístõ,
for your future good – you’re not supposed to know anything
about this. I’m taking you somewhere safe. That’s all that
matters.”
“You know me,” Chrístõ said. “Do I know
you?”
“Yes, you do. But this isn’t really about you. It’s
not about friendships or even blood ties. It’s… politics.”
Chrístõ accepted that for the moment. He followed the oddly
familiar stranger through a maze of narrow passages and even narrower
stairways until they emerged on the roof of the Citadel. There, a fast
personal shuttle was waiting with the engine running and the pilot ready
to take off as soon as they were safely strapped into the seats. The shuttle
quickly reached sub-sonic speed with the windows closed off and inertial
dampeners functioning.
“Is there any pursuit?” the CIA man asked the pilot.
“None at all, sir,” he replied.
“Good. Proceed to the Tower without diversion.”
“The Tower?” Chrístõ queried. “The Tower
of Silis Bonnoenfant… at the Calderon?”
“It hasn’t been called that for a very long time. These days
it is just ‘The Tower’, but yes, that is where we are going.”
“Am I swapping one prison for another? The Chancellery Guard for
the Celestial Intervention Agency?”
“No,” he was assured. “You are not a prisoner of the
Agency. You are under its protection. We don’t expect the Chancellery
Guard to take any action, but if they do, they will find it very difficult
to launch a counter-attack.”
“Yes, I would imagine so. But… are you telling me that the
Celestial Intervention Agency are prepared to fight the Chancellery Guard
over me?”
“It’s not just about you. But protecting you until we can
get you and your TARDIS off Gallifrey is imperative.”
“I DO know you, don’t I?” he added. “There’s
something about your voice and your mannerisms.”
The CIA man didn’t give him any clues. Besides, he had more pressing
things to worry about. Something much bigger than his own life and liberty
was at stake. He was just a pawn in some game of politics.
The Chancellor stood his ground, facing President Gant. He knew he was
seconds away from being arrested by the Chancellery Guard at the President’s
order.
The great doors crashed open behind him, the ceremonial entrance normally
used only during important formal occasions. There were shouts and scuffling
sounds, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off Rassilon Gant, and
his attention didn’t waver, either. The rest of the High Council
rose from their seats in alarm, staring at the intruders.
There were Chancellery Guards among them, but they weren’t there
at the President’s command. Instead, they were disarmed and forced
into the room by another militia, dressed in dark grey and black combat
outfits. Ahead of them strode the director of the Celestial Intervention
Agency in his own grey and black with a leather baldric studded with silver.
He stood between the President and Chancellor, his eyes glittering fervently.
“Rassilon Gant, you are under arrest,” he said. “For
corruption, bringing the Presidential oath into disrepute, and breaking
one of the Cardinal Laws of Time by forcing a Time Lord’s TARDIS
to land on Gallifrey outside of his timeline.”
“That’s what happened?” The Chancellor gasped. “He
MADE my brother’s capsule come here… so that he could arrest
him and have him executed for breaking the Laws of Time?”
“Yes,” Paracell Hext answered shortly.
“Are you mad?” Gant protested as Hext’s agents took
him into custody. “I am Lord High President. You cannot arrest me.
I am above every man on Gallifrey.”
“The Celestial Intervention Agency are higher than anyone, even
the President, when he commits Treason,” Hext said. “But in
any case, there is a quorum here. Would any of the High Council like to
put forward a motion for impeachment?”
“Yes, I would,” Chancellor D’Arpexia De Lœngbærrow
answered him. To his surprise, the Castellan immediately seconded him.
The vote was carried unanimously. Hext nodded to his men who took the
former president away.
“My brother….” The Chancellor began.
“He’s safe,” Hext answered. “And I intend him
to stay that way. You know that you need to keep away from him. The less
he knows about his future, the better, and you’re too close to him.”
“I know. But… can you at least tell him….”
The Chancellor stopped. He wasn’t sure what he could say. a long
time ago he had loved his brother dearly. He had hero-worshipped him,
hung on every word to deed of his. Then they had become divided by politics
and family affairs. Their last words to each other had been very bitter.
Even if he had known they were going to be the last, The Chancellor wasn’t
sure he could have done anything to make them less bitter. He certainly
couldn’t have stopped what followed. Things had already become so
bad between them personally and Gallifrey had become a place his brother
no longer wanted to call home. Nothing could have changed that.
“I’ll tell him you wish him the best,” Hext said before
turning away to follow his men. The Chancellor turned back to the group
of High Councillors. In the space of his conversation with the CIA director
four of Gant’s former allies had tendered their resignation. Another
bowed to him as the most senior member of the Council after the President
and left the table.
“You are interim President,” the Premier Cardinal told him.
“Pending an election of the Councillors. It falls to you to replace
those who no longer feel they can sit at this table.”
“Yes,” he said. He sighed with relief. It seemed incredible
that a mere twenty minutes had passed since he had faced prison and perhaps
torture and possibly execution for defying Gant and now that tyrannical
and deceitful reign was over. now Gallifrey could take a deep breath with
him and they could begin to repair a century and a half of damage done
to their society. That was his task, now, and he accepted it with trepidation,
but also heartsfelt gladness.
Chrístõ arrived at The Tower still slightly apprehensive
about what was going to happen to him. It was a far worse place of detention
than the Chancellery. He had seen and heard tortures of the worst kind
carried out on men accused of betraying Gallifrey. But he wasn’t
taken to the cells. Instead he found himself in a comfortable room where
he was given food and urged to rest.
He ate, and he rested. He felt a little less anxious about everything,
but there were still a lot of questions to be answered and when he woke
from his rest, his head was full of them.
“You’re not going to get any answers, Chrístõ,”
said a very familiar voice. He sat up on the comfortable bed and accepted
a mug of latte coffee from a man who still looked like his old friend,
though he was much more than fifty years older than when he saw him last.
“Hext?” he queried. “That really IS you, isn’t
it? But you look… about eight hundred.”
“Thanks,” he replied sarcastically. “Actually, I’m
only… Well, less than eight-hundred.”
“Yes… but it’s definitely more than fifty years since
my own time.”
“And that’s more than you need to know. Stop asking questions
or I’ll have to wipe your memory to prevent you having any dangerous
foreknowledge. You need to stay here until we can retrieve your TARDIS
and repair the essential functions. You’ve got to do exactly as
I say for the first time in your life.”
“Stay here?” Chrístõ looked around the room
and wondered if, after all, prison cells always had locks.
“Stay here,” Hext insisted. “I think we have everything
under control, now, but there might be a backlash. I can’t risk
you complicating things even further.”
Grudgingly, Chrístõ accepted that he was a bit player in
whatever drama surrounded him. He drank his coffee and looked out of the
high window at the spectacular view of the Calderon below.
Hext closed the door behind him, but didn’t lock it. He didn’t
know if he could trust Chrístõ to stay in the room, but
he didn’t have the hearts to lock him in after all that had gone
on.
He went to his office. His second in command was waiting with a report.
“We’ve arrested all of the Chancellery Guards who supported
Gant’s regime,” the deputy director said. “And the Castellan.
There have been twelve resignations from the High Council. My uncle has
a tall order putting a government back together.”
“He can do it,” Hext answered. “He’s more like
his brother than most people realise. Gant certainly didn’t realise
until he pushed him too far. He stood up to him magnificently.”
“Glad to hear it,” Remy de Lœngbærrow said. “But
Chrístõ…. You know, he almost recognised me. He’ll
probably work it out.”
“I might have to wipe his memory after all,” Hext sighed.
“There’s too much he can’t know about – the reasons
why he himself became a Renegade, the rift between him and his brother,
his father’s self-imposed exile on Ventura.”
“Not to mention the fact that the Agency pulled off a bloodless
coup this afternoon because of him,” Remy added. “That was
Gant’s fatal move, trying to use Chrístõ in his mischief.”
“That was the high point of his insanity. But if I hadn’t
built up plenty of other evidence we’d all be Renegades along with
Chrístõ, now. There would be no future for any of us on
Gallifrey if Gant had wriggled out of this. I just hope we can build a
society now where he can come home again and wipe the slate clean.”
“I’ll second that,” Remy agreed.
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