Part 3 (2/2)

'Where?'

Peri glared at his back. 'Couple of galaxies further away from here would do just fine.'

'Don't be silly; c'mon, we mustn't lose track of your old friend.'

Peri watched helplessly as the Doctor walked briskly away from her; just as his figure was about to be enveloped by the mist her resolve to stay put weakened and with a scowl of surrender she chased after the Doctor before the fog could obscure him completely.

On the Matrix screen the all-pervading pink drizzle blanked out the screen which gave the Valeyard the cue to call a halt to the record of the Doctor's first foray into the underground tunnels of Sil's native planet.

'Do you relish danger?' the coal-black eyes of the Valeyard stared at the Doctor, hard and challenging.

'Not particularly,' the Doctor shrugged.

The prosecutor came from behind his desk. His black robes flapping behind him, a carrion crow who had spotted his next meal.

'Yet you court disaster so a.s.siduously.'

'A Time Lord must appear to act with confidence at all times.'

'Even at the risk of his companion's life?' The questions put with the thrust of a rapier, stirred the jury. The Doctor replied as evenly as he could, 'He must risk his own life when necessary.'

The Valeyard closed in on his prey relentlessly. 'Already the unfortunate Peri has survived a struggle with the Raak, and escaped from the phaser fire of the guards. And who, Doctor, was sent to examine the Wolfman?'

The Doctor shrugged, which was a mistake that the Valeyard capitalised on. 'I'm sorry you treat the question with such indifference. I repeat, who was it went into danger first?'

'The one who happened to be nearest.'

The expression on the prosecutor's face was just the right mixture of concern and condemnation.

'Which happened to be your a.s.sistant as usual.'

With a sudden dramatic turn the Valeyard addressed the august figure seated on the throne of justice. 'Sagacity, I have calculated, on a random Matrix sample, that the Doctor's companions have been thrust into danger twice as often as the Doctor has risked his neck.'

The Doctor came to his feet. 'There have been many companions but only one of me!'

The Inquisitor looked down at the prosecutor with a slight frown. 'What is the point you are attempting to make?'

'Simply this, Sagacity, the prosecution will later prove the Doctor to be an arrant coward. We will see his actions.

I wish to make the point at this juncture that the Doctor has always been of a craven nature and statistics prove it.'

Waving his arms wildly the Doctor yelled out. 'This is the most preposterous travesty of a trial since the so-called Witches of -'

'Doctor, you have been warned.'

The ice in the Inquisitor's voice and the bailiff's move to produce a control baton made the Doctor swallow his anger. He knew that he could not arque about accusations, the details of which he could hardly recall. Dejectedly, he slumped back into his chair and stared at the screen that would reveal... what?

'Proceed.' The Inquisitor turned back to the Matrix of Time which showed, at a touch from Zon, a setting that the court had not been shown before. A rectangular room that contained a puzzling mixture of exotic vegetation, running water from a central fountain and mixed up among the exotic shrubbery, an array of VDUs, computer banks and data processing machines that churned out reams of paper.

A holographic projector brought to life miniaturised armies warring on a variety of worlds scattered throughout the universe.

'What is this, Zon?' the Inquisitor asked. 'Where are we now?'

The dumpling checked his coding indexes, then referred to the heavy Scroll of Record.

'It is logged as the Profit Room. Cosmic money and universal stock exchange.'

'On Thoros-Beta?'

'Yes Ma'am,' the Valeyard interjected. 'It is essential background for understanding the case, Sagacity.'

'Very well, continue.'

Sitting on the central control chair in the Profit Room was a small reptilian creature with a bulbous head that was joined to a yellow and black mottled trunk that tapered into a wriggling tail. Kiv's short arms had small, well-developed hands that were pressed on either side of his large, domed forehead.

'Marsh Minnow, master?' Another scrawny hand offered a glistening green newt to Kiv who declined the morsel.

Sil regarded Kiv worriedly. The leader of Thoros-Beta's Mentor cla.s.s was obviously in pain. Sil decided to signal other lesser Mentors and the Thoros-Alphan bearers to hurry forward to Kiv's aid.

'Leave me!' Kiv's voice sharp with pain and authority halted the advance of his minions. His acid-yellow eyes rested on his a.s.sistant who was about to swallow another Marsh Minnow.

'Must you bring your lunch in here, Sil?'

Sil gathered together a small heap of slithering amphibians and conveyed half a dozen towards his mouth while conversing with Kiv. 'I do not wish to miss a moment of your infinite capacity to generate profit for Thoros-Beta. Are you sure we cannot share some Marsh Minnows, Magnificence?'

Kiv began to shake his head, then grimaced from the pain the movement caused.

'Let us get to work.' He turned to a data screen and began to scan the projections, prices and contracts on the futures market of the universal stock exchange. 'This Thordon world. We must negotiate with the Krontep King. Usual contracts, development loans, some limited scientific advance. What is the position regarding King...

King...?'

'Yrcanos.' Sil began to chuckle as he visualised the treatment that was at that moment being inflicted on the warrior king. 'He is still being ”persuaded” by Crozier to co-operate happily with us.' Gurgles of grotesque laughter began in Sil's throat. 'I think ”persuade” is the word for it, Magnificence!' Then Sil's laugh burst from him and the wild sound drowned the play of the water fountain and the busy electronic patter of the technology in the Profit Room.

Huddled over a probe screen, the Matrona and Crozier watched the process of pacification progress through the brain of King Yrcanos. Fascinated, they watch the slow dissolution of the warlord's braincells. Then, inexplicably, the process began to slow. The Aggression Locator seemed to be experiencing a mysterious resistance within the deep recesses of the warlord's neural network.

'Blood! Death! Terror! Kill! Skaadanwick!' Yrcanos bellowed each word as he fought the battle within his mind. The giant hands with their thick fingers twitched under the conflicting signals received from his besieged brain. Crozier was the first to react as the King reached for the pacification helmet and began to try to wrench it free from his skull.

'Increase the pulo pulse immediately!'

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