Part 7 (1/2)

The Doctor shrugged. 'The odds were against us. Why should I risk my life over a savage and a stupid girl?'

Sil s...o...b..red; an expression of pure pleasure. 'So you betrayed your friends. How wonderfully wise of you, Doctor.'

'I think so.'

The chuckle in Sil's throat was one of satisfaction but his cunning deep-set eyes never left the Doctor's face.

'You are planning some trickery, of course. I remember you are most ingenious. This is a ploy, yes?'

The Doctor shook his head. 'Why should I follow a mad Warlord of Thordon. What's in it for me?'

'You prefer to live?'

'I'm no hero.'

Sil gloated and leered. 'I could have sworn you belonged to that stupid breed.' The mad laughter echoed around the cavernous chamber.

The Doctor did not join in but earnestly replied to Sil's observation, 'I don't wish to help anyone any more. Now I'm just like you, Sil.'

'How nice for you.' The Mentor turned to his guards, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

'Inform Crozier and the Lord Kiv that I, Sil, have captured the Doctor... the turncoat Doctor, it seems.' Again the manic laughter spilled out. The Doctor licked his dry lips and stared s.h.i.+ftily round him, looking exactly what Sil had called him, a turncoat who had just saved his own skin by betraying his friends.

Eight.

'The truth of what you really are can now be seen by all, Doctor,' the Valeyard's voice rang out while the Doctor stared unbelievingly at himself up on the Matrix screen.

'That is not me. I would rather be dead than live like that!'

The laugh of the Valeyard was harsh. 'Like so much of what you have said to this court, they are hollow words.

What we have just witnessed is but a glimpse of your later treachery.'

'No!' the Doctor cried out in desperation. 'I must have suffered displacement of my reasoning faculties.'

'You were overcome by fear, Doctor. Your one aim was to escape unscathed. Just you only. Your friends did not matter.'

'Never!'

'You realise the Matrix of Time cannot lie?'

'Can't it?'

'I suggest you confess to your crimes and throw yourself on the mercy of this court.'

An ominous silence spread through the Supreme Court of Gallifrey. Miserably the Doctor stared around at the disapproving faces of his fellow Time Lords.

Maybe it was true, the thought entered the mind of the Doctor. Should he beg for mercy? No. No. There was something wrong, he told himself. Something something...

ah, yes, of course. The Doctor clutched at a possible explanation. 'Sil was right a ploy to fool the Mentors.

Yes, clever old me...' A wave of relief washed through the Doctor's being. 'Let the Matrix show what it will'. His right hand made a gesture of invitation. 'A clever ploy, you'll see.'

The smirk on the face of the Valeyard was worrying to the Doctor.

'Do you really believe that Doctor?'

'Of course,' the Doctor replied, boldly.

'Then let us see.' With a swirl of black gown the Valeyard turned his back on the accused Time Lord and strode back to his seat. With that irritating smile still evident he leaned back and awaited the next segment of the Matrix visual record.

The scene that appeared was set in the wrecked lab with Crozier trying to mend the damage done during the escape of King Yrcanos. The court saw a guard with a phaser covering not only Crozier but a familiar figure who was a.s.sisting the scientist in the repair of a Nerve Impulse Modifier. With a shock of recognition the Doctor realised that it was he who was helping Crozier. The images on the screen moved around to allow Sil to appear. His face muscles working in unison with the clenching and unclenching of his hands he was obviously in the grip of the darkest suspicions of the Doctor's motives in offering to help Crozier and the Mentors. Sil could contain himself no longer. 'I do not trust the Doctor!'

The Doctor melded a transistor to a matching terminal then straightened. 'What I have told you is the truth. I don't lie, it is not in my nature.'

Crozier looked up annoyed that the work of repair was being halted.

'He cannot know our reasons for questioning him about the Raak, Sil.'

'The Raak attacked us, without warning.' The voice of the Doctor was sincere.

'I believe him. Now can I please be allowed to redesign the Behavioural Ultrasonic Input Codifier?'

'Do you have time?' Sil asked.

'Not really. The help of the Doctor might just make it a possibility.'

The dilemma of whether or not to trust the Doctor made Sil itch all over. 'Water me!' he yelled at his bearers, who hurried to their scoops and began to dip into the tank that contained the cooling liquid of Sil's home waters. The soothing balm on his dehydrated, scaled skin made Sil relax a little. He decided to share his worries.

'If the Lord Kiv dies, his bodyguards have instructions to destroy us. You must operate to save his life. Not only his ours! ours! There's no time for anything else, Crozier. You must operate and successfully, tomorrow!' There's no time for anything else, Crozier. You must operate and successfully, tomorrow!'

Crozier looked contemptuously at Sil.

'What else have I been saying?'

'What do you need?'

'You well know a donor able to accept the brain of Kiv.'

'I will find you one!' Sil promised wildly, agitated the awful thought that he might be experiencing his last few hours of precious life.