Doctor Who - Short Trips (Big Finish) - 16 - Farewells by Ian Farrington

Author:Ian Farrington [Farrington, Ian]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, General, Media Tie-In, Science Fiction, Collections & Anthologies
ISBN: 9781844351510
Google: uyDFAAAACAAJ
Amazon: 1844351513
Publisher: Big Finish
Published: 2007-09-15T07:00:00+00:00

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wouldn’t waste the energy to hunt you down.’

‘You don’t understand. I don’t know how to help you.’ His brow cracked, face

fell. The blackness within the cowl swirled, perhaps a smile. ‘That’s all right,

Doctor.’ He paused. ‘I do.’

The Doctor was instantly alarmed. ‘Then why the explanations?’

The Master shrugged. ‘I like the game.’ And with that, he pulsed with a surge

of energy, and two bolts of dark flew from his head. One went into Tegan, who

was thrown across the room. The other was absorbed by the silent, immobile

Watcher Master. It happened so quickly, so unexpectedly. The Doctor turned to

help Tegan. And the real Master placed a bag over his head and pulled the cord

tight about his neck.

When the Doctor awoke he found he’d been tied. He was able to turn his

head. He looked about. He was still in the throne room, atop a cold metal bench.

Judging from the position, it was the object that had been covered by the red

velvet. Typically showy of the Master to glamorise his torture device. He was

secured by thick leather straps.

‘Ah, Doctor, I’m glad you’re awake. I wouldn’t want you to miss the show.

Particularly as you’re the star.’

He struggled, just to see how well his limbs had been tied. Expertly, it

seemed. ‘It’s no use struggling,’ said the Master with particular relish.

‘What are you planning to do?’ The Doctor finally discerned the dark figure

standing just beyond the foot of the slab.

‘I need a corporeal body, Doctor. This dark is merely what I could remember.’

There was a terrible pause. ‘So I’m going to steal one of your lives.’ He stopped

to let the fact register, like a man who has perfected his megalomaniacal

statements. ‘There may even be enough of a connection between us for me to

reoccupy a physical resemblance of my old body.’

‘Don’t be stupid!’ yelled the Doctor, desperation creeping in. ‘It won’t work.’

‘We shall certainly give it a try,’ said the Master, chuckling.

‘I’ll stop you.’ There was righteous indignation in the Doctor’s tone.

‘Tied up like that? I think not. No, Doctor, this time I have won.’ He took out

the tin snuffbox and shook it about. ‘I really wonder how much you value the

lives of your companions to make such inflammatory statements.’

The Doctor glared at him, lips trembling. ‘Don’t,’ he said.

The blackness swirled in the Master’s hood. ‘Speaking of companions, meet

my latest.’ He gestured and a figure walked into the Doctor’s sight.

‘Oh, no.’ There was real despair in his tone. ‘Not you, Tegan.’

It was his companion, and yet transformed. She wore a voluminous black

velvet gown, the skirt hooped and billowing around her slight form, the bodice

tightly fitted to her chest, long black gloves etched with gold filigree on the cuffs

and the fingertips, and an intricate brocaded collar a mirror image to the

Master’s velvet costume. Over her face she wore a black lace veil, her lips

looming vivid red behind it, and behind her lay a crushed velvet train almost the

length of the entire room. She was his bride, wed to the darkness.

The Doctor closed his eyes at her terrible transformation.

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