Doctor Who: Target - Novelisations [131] - The Trial Of A Time Lord Part 4 - The Ultimate Foe by Pip Baker & Jane Baker

Author:Pip Baker & Jane Baker
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science-Fiction - Doctor Who
ISBN: 9780491031066
Publisher: Target Books
Published: 1988-06-14T22:00:00+00:00

12

The Baiter Bitten

Incongruously, the statuesque rigour of the Doctor reminded Mel of the waxworks in Madame Tussauds: a museum in London, England, that housed many effigies of the famous who peopled her planet Earth.

A shudder shook her slender frame, for it was the basement of the popular landmark that came to mind – the Chamber of Horrors!

She regarded with contempt the calm faces of the esteemed observers in the Courtroom. It was difficult to accept that these were the same species as the altruistic Doctor. Their impassivity was tantamount to callousness.

Her attention strayed to the Key of Rassilon hanging about the Keeper’s neck. Her attempt to secure it had been baulked… would she have the opportunity to try again…?

The Master would have been arrogantly amused by Mel’s futile attempts to gain the Key of Rassilon. Indeed, had he not been engaged in subjugating the Doctor, he could have told the tale of his own adroitness in obtaining access to the Matrix.

The Time Lords of Gallifrey had, over the aeons, developed a trait that could only be described as an acute case of Achilles Heel. These vain-glorious elitists no longer deigned to carry out those tedious day-to-day chores which occurred even in the most perfect of societies. Maintenance of the Matrix had been delegated – nay, relegated – to the Elzevirs, inhabitants of the Moon of Leptonica; a lunar satellite in the constellation of Daedalus.

These delicate creatures specialised in micro-technology and were, therefore, ideally suited to disburden the slothful Gallifreyans from the tedium of servicing and refurbishing the micro-circuitry of the Matrix.

This, then, was the Achilles Heel, the chink in the armour the Gallifreyans had unwittingly provided for the Master to exploit.

Unable to hypnotise a fellow Time Lord, he was under no such handicap when it came to the Elzevirs.

His mesmerising medallion easily enslaved Nilex, the supervisor of the repair team.

Symptoms of a fault were induced into the Matrix and Nilex, a vassal of the renegade, utilised the opportunity to make a duplicate Key of Rassilon for the Master…

Witnessing the Doctor’s subjugation via a monitor screen in the annex of his control room, the Master grinned.

Satisfaction sent adrenalin pumping through his veins.

‘No questions, Sabalom Glitz?’

‘Plenty. It’s the answers I can’t unravel.’

He watched the Doctor’s suffering with curiosity rather than concern.

‘Would I be wrong in thinking the Doc’ll soon be needing a machonite overcoat?’

‘Nothing so crude. He’s merely being reduced to a catatonic state.’

‘Cata – what?’

‘The violent assault on his senses will trip a defensive mechanism. His brain will switch off.’

‘He’ll become a zombie, you mean?’

‘Temporarily. Long enough for my purposes.’ Jauntily he re-entered the control room, followed by Glitz.

An honorary fellow of the Universal Order of Sceptics, Glitz threw a punch that missed the Doctor by a whisker.

‘Not a flicker. Nifty little trick. Have to teach it to me some time. Invaluable when I’m short of a few ready grotzis. Waltz into a bank, switch on the catatonic whatchermacallit – and, hey presto, help yourself!’

The Master was setting the Time and Space co-ordinates.

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