Doctor Who: The Trial of a Time Lord : The Ultimate Foe by Pip Baker, Jane Baker Read Free Book Online Page B

Doc,’
    muttered Glitz when Valeyard was no longer to be seen.
    ‘With you destroyed,’ a distant declaration from far off,
    ‘and unable to constrain me, and with unlimited access to the Matrix... there will be nothing beyond my reach!’ A triumphant swirl – and he vanished completely.
    Relief surged through Glitz’s veins – until he saw the Doctor striding determinedly across the flats.
    ‘Here, where’re you off to now?’
    ‘To trace the Valeyard.’
    ‘But he was here!’ This crazy world inside the Matrix was too much for Glitz: suffocating bodies that didn’t suffocate; persons that appeared and disappeared like rabbits out of a magician’s hat; gurgling green gunge that became dry, golden sand... Madness! If this was the way honest people carried on, thank goodness for crime!
    ‘Illusion, Glitz,’ said the Doctor, maintaining his trek.
    ‘The shadow not the substance.’ He pounded towards the shore. ‘Of course, if you don’t wish to come, you can always stay and build sandcastles. I’m sure if you think hard enough, you can conjure up a bucket and spade!’
    ‘Tell you something,’ called Glitz, reluctantly trailing in the rear. ‘When you two meet face to face, five grotzis’ll get you ten that Valeyard’ll be first past the chequered flag!’
    The Doctor came to a sudden halt – a thick, dense mist was rising from the sea...
    ‘Hey, Doc, what’s that?’
    Tentatively the Doctor sniffed the air.
    ‘Back pedal, Glitz!’
    ‘Not another illusion?’
    ‘Alas, no.’
    Gathering momentum, the cloud was rolling inexorably towards them.
    ‘Sea mist? Fog?’
    ‘Asphyxiating nerve gas. This is in deadly earnest!’
    ‘If you must make jokes – steal them. Your own are schlock. Most comedians do, you know.’ He was whistling in the dark, hoping against hope the Doctor was wrong.
    ‘Change a name here... a word there. Impossible to prove it’d ever been pinched –’
    ‘Run!’ Despite his tendency to plumpness, the Doctor raced across the sands.
    So did Glitz: terror lending wings to his heels. The cloud’s progress accelerated.
    ‘Run, man! Run!’
    ‘What-d’you think-I’m doing?’ complained Glitz, labouring in the shifting sand. ‘Playing intergalactic hopscotch!’
    In fact he could well have been. His progress was spasmodic. Every now and again he was pausing for breath, mouth wide as he gulped in air.
    ‘Faster!’ Despite having to negotiate the soft sands, the Doctor was covering much more ground. ‘Faster, Glitz!’
    Trying to comply, Glitz stumbled.
    Lungs aching, gasping and spluttering, he attempted to getup...
    ‘Can’t... breathe.. can’t... no air... can’t breathe...’
     
    11

Out of the Frying Pan
    ‘Come on! Do something! We can’t just sit here! We’ve got to help him!’
    Mel’s impassioned pleading had a minuscule effect on the serried ranks of Time Lords. In unison they turned away from the Matrix screen where they had been watching disaster overtake the stumbling fugitives on the beach.
    ‘The Doctor chose to enter the Matrix,’ reproved the Inquisitor. ‘We are not empowered to interfere.’
    ‘You parade of stuffed dummies! He needs help!’
    On the screen, the Doctor, lugging the spluttering Glitz, was managing to stay ahead of the ruthlessly pursuing cloud... Just!
    ‘He’s a Time Lord! One of you!’
    The Gallifreyans remained impassive, unyielding.
    ‘Call yourselves a superior species! No human being would see another in such terrible danger and do nothing!’
    ‘If I may, My Lady?’ The Keeper awaited assent from the Inquisitor. It was bestowed. ‘Young woman, you are applying logical thought to a situation that recognises no logic.’
    Mel clattered from the witness box and bustled across the well of the Court. ‘Give me the key to the Matrix! I’m going in there!’
    ‘Return to your seat!’ instructed the Inquisitor. ‘In my Court you follow orders.’
    ‘Not a chance,’ blurted Mel, and dashed towards the Keeper,