Doctor Who - Emergency
Began: June 10, 1987
Prisoners on Delta Tisan
Another Plan 7. Another Plan While Prisoners Again
Escape 8. Mission Almost Accomplished
The Doctor was pacing around the TARDIS control room. He was bored. The Doctor was now into his sixth incarnation. This form sported a mop of curly blond hair, blue cat-like eyes, a slender nose, a high broad forehead and a touch of arrogance in the full mouth. This Doctor had a more colorful but somehow less tasteful attire. He wore striped pants much like his previous form but a strikingly clashing multicolored knee length jacket and a mix-matched knit vest. Tied around his neck was a large blue-with-white dotted cravat.
“I’m bored, Melanie,” he announced in a slow, high-pitched voice.
Melanie was a tall good looking woman in her late twenties with long, curly red hair and brown eyes. She was wearing a casual short skirt and pullover sweater. “I know, Doctor. But we’ve tried every game in the TARDIS. Draughts, chess, backgammon, et cetera.” She looked up from her nails. “Everything but naughts and crosses,” hoping he doesn’t decide to play.
“I know,” the Doctor said in a bored voice. He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets, still pacing, then pauses to stuff them in his pants pockets.
“How about a vacation?” Melanie suggested hopefully.
The Doctor stopped for a moment, raised his eyebrows, then frowned.
“I’d still be bored.”
“Not if you found someplace where there’s a lot to do,” thinking of Miami or Paris or just any place she could say she was on Earth.
The Doctor thought for a second then rushed to the console, setting coordinates.
“I think I know just - “
He stopped, interrupted by the lights going out, leaving he and Melanie in the darkness.
“Doctor?” Melanie called, frightened. “What’s happening?”
“I’m rather afraid I don’t know,” the Doctor answered uncertainly.
“Don’t you, Doctor?” boomed a deep, resonate voice in the darkness.
“Oh, no. It’s you again, isn’t it?” he asked irritably.
The lights came on to reveal an elderly man standing by the scanner screen. He was dressed all in white.
“I can only stay long enough to tell you your assignment.” He spoke in a deep authoritative voice.
“My what?!” cried the Doctor indignantly.
“Be as so kind as not to take that tone of voice with me, Doctor. Remember, I am the White Guardian of Time.” He quickened his pace. “The Cybermen are planning to take over the planet Delta Tisan. It is the meeting place of the representatives of the Ephron Constellation, one of the most powerful armies in the universe. The representatives will be in conference when the Cybermen attack. They will undoubtedly use this to their advantage. We don’t know how. You must find out and prevent them.”
The Doctor sighed. “Right,” he said decisively. “I’ll do what I can.”
“What are Cybermen, Doctor?” Melanie asked, feeling rather left out.
The Doctor looked at her, a look of concern on his face. “You don’t honestly want to know. But it seems you are to find out.” He turned back to the White Guardian. “Lets have the coordinates.”
“They’ve been preset. Thank you, Doctor. And remember, you must not fail!”
The White Guardian vanished, leaving the Doctor open-mouthed in astonishment.
“Preset?” he cried indignantly. “How dare he?”
Melanie shook her head. “It’s no use yelling, Doctor. We’ve arrived.”
The Doctor looked at the six-sided, much too complicated looking console. The column in the middle had stopped its normal oscillating. They had arrived on Delta Tisan. Briefly, the Doctor wondered what kind of reception they would get. He had only limited idea of what they were in for.
Prisoners on Delta Tisan
A fleet of forty ships raced through the stars. They were long, cigar-shaped affairs with tail and side fins like a dart. They were Cyberships.
On the lead ship eight tall robot-like beings waited. Two were seated at the helm of the ship, four were seated at a massive console that resembled the TARDIS console. Two more were standing at a distance from them. They were face to face in conversation.
The “robots” were tall and dull silver with basic human shape: biped, two-armed, a large torso on which the front of was mounted a box-like apparatus with a grill in the center. And a head with a blank face having round holes for eyes, a small slit for the mouth and handle-like projections in the place of ears. From the chest unit there extended three tubes to the belt buckle-like device on their waists. Also from either side the chest units was a small tube that lead to the elbows of the massive creatures.
They were Cybermen.
The Leader had black hands, feet, head and chest unit.
“Is the Shadow Device ready?” asked the Cyberleader in a low, mechanical, monotonous voice, indicating the console.
“Not yet, Leader,” said the Cyberlieutenant. “The power intake needs to be adjusted. The amount of power it uses strains the generators.”
A Cyberman stood up from the Shadow Device and approached its superiors.
“Leader, the Shadow Device is ready. You may test it now,”
“Inform the fleet we are going to test the Shadow Devices,” the Cyberleader said to the Cyberman manning the copilot’s position of the helm.
The Cybercopilot touched a button on the flight panel.
“Leader ship to invasion fleet. We are going to test the Shadow Devices. Stand by.”
“Order all ships to activate Shadow Devices,” intoned the Leader.
“All ships activate Shadow Devices.”
The invasion fleet vanished. But a field of black sped across the stars in place of the ships.
“Deactivate,” ordered the Cyberleader.
“All ships deactivate Shadow Devices,” said the Cybercopilot.
The fleet reappeared. The Cybermen were oblivious to the malfunction.
“All Shadow Devices worked at one hundred percent efficiency,” reported the Cybertechnician.
“Excellent,” said the Cyberleader.
With a wheezing, groaning noise, a tall blue London police public call box materialized in a long, brightly lit corridor. The corridor had doors lining it on either side like an apartment building or a hotel. The most surprising thing was the corridor was empty.
The door opened and the Doctor came out, followed by Melanie. The police box was the TARDIS outside form.
Another corridor intersected theirs to the left of the TARDIS. In this corridor there were walking three guards.
“What was that noise?” one of the blue dressed guards asked when the TARDIS materialized.
“I don’t know,” another had answered. “But we had better check it out.”
They started in the direction of the Doctor and Melanie who had just stepped out of the TARDIS. As yet the guards hadn’t seen them due to the TARDIS being to the right of the corridor.
The Doctor was taking the corridor’s apparent emptiness for granted.
“We seem to have arrived in a fairly decent spot. At least if we are seen and questioned, we can always say we’re tourists or observers,” the Doctor was saying to reassure Melanie.
Melanie whispered, “Are you sure we’re alone, Doctor? I thought I heard something.” She looked around, suspicious of somebody spying on them.
“Yes, Mel, this corridor is quite empty. The representatives are probably in conference now,” the Doctor said loudly, full of confidence. Then he added quietly, “There’s somebody in that corridor.” He pointed to the corridor in which the guards, having heard the Doctor, were now hurrying towards them.
“Come on, Mel. We’ll just find and ask someone,” called the Doctor, walking across the intersection.
The guards caught up and intercepted the Doctor.
“And just where do you think you’re going, now?” asked the burly, mustached guard with a Welsh-like accent.
“To find the conference, if it’s begun, that is,” said the Doctor, hoping to bluff his way out of this. “Has it?”
“It’s begun. But you’re not going. Unless you’ve got some ID,” said the guard. “And if you don’t, well . . .” he let the sentence drop with hanging menace.
“I take your point,” said the Doctor. He began searching through his pockets. “I’ve identification here, somewhere. I hope.” He looked up at the guard, grinning. “I haven’t any identification. But if you contact the High Council of Gallifrey in the constellation . . .”
“Come on,” the guard interrupted, taking him by the arm and indicating to one of the others to get his other. The third grabbed Mel. Then the first guard noticed the TARDIS.
“Is this yours?” he asked, remembering the strange noise that had attracted them.
“No,” said the Doctor. “What is it?” But it had shown in his eyes.
“You’re under arrest for trespassing,” said the second guard in an Irish-like accent.
“But we’re tourists!” Mel exclaimed, interrupting him.
“Tourist season in closed during a conference of this magnitude,” said the third in a Scottish burr.
“Do you know what the penalty for bringing an unlicensed object to Delta Tisan during Constellation Conference is” asked the second guard, trying to continue. “I’ll give you a hint. It’s the same as espionage.”
“Let me guess,” said the Doctor sarcastically. “Death.”
“No,” said the first guard. “Twenty-five thousand credit and forty years on the moon prison colony. Unless your lawyer can get you better from the Prime Minister.” He got tired of playing with these two. “Come on.” They took the Doctor and Melanie down the corridor, them complaining about rights of the accused.
After they were gone, a door opened and a medium built man stepped out. He wore all black except for the gold edging and ruffle. He had black hair, eyes, satanic eyebrows and a neatly pointed goatee beard. He was the Master and he was talking to himself.
“Oh, Doctor, did you think these people would believe you?’ he said laughingly. “You won’t ruin my plans this time, Doctor. This time you shall destroy yourself with your own wit!”
He laughed hellishly and walked down the corridor in the opposite direction of the Doctor’s party.
On the lead ship of the Cyberman invasion fleet, the Cybercopilot had received a message. He turned to the Cyberleader, switching off the radio.
“Leader, our informant reports all is clear. Nothing is suspected. We may proceed as planned.”
“Inform the fleet,” the Cyberleader ordered.
“Leader,” he responded, turning to do as ordered.
The Doctor and Melanie were in a small metal room with two bunks on one wall, and a desk with a chair on the other. The cell was well lit and comfortable but a cell is still a cell and there are no two ways about it.
The cell’s bar door opened and a guard walked in followed by small man wearing a white shirt. He had long brown hair and a full beard. But he had coal-black eyes.
“This is Defender Retsam,” said the guard who was one that arrested them. “He will be your legal representative in your case. Your trial will be the Constellation Conference.”
He left the cell, locking the door behind him, standing outside in the event Retsam might need him. He doubted it. Just look at the fellow they were trying. That jacket would be enough to make anyone laugh. The Prime Minister would see him as a harmless idiot and release him. But all the same . . .
“There won’t be any trial,” said the Doctor who was relaxing on the bottom bunk. “If the Cybermen are in control, there won’t be Constellation Conference.”
Retsam sat in the chair, not hearing the Doctor.
“I understand you claim to be tourists or observers. Which is it?”
“Neither,” said the Doctor. “We’re here on a mission of mercy. So to speak.”
“A mission of mercy?” Retsam asked, decided these were idiots of no consequence. All the same, they should have known better. He would recommend that they be set free. He continued.
“But you have no identification and tourist season . . .”
“Is closed during Constellation Conference,” interrupted Melanie. “Yes. we know. Won’t you at least listen to us?”
“No, Melanie, he won’t,” said the Doctor. “Retsam isn’t paid to listen, are you now?”
The Doctor sat up then stood, looking Retsam in the eye.
“Why is it I have a feeling of deja vu whenever I do this?” he asked.
Retsam looked away.
“Alright,” he said. “I’ll listen. But before you start, I understand you said something about a place to contact to confirm your identity. If we could have the name, co-ordinates and frequency, we could try to get you out of here changes dropped.” He raised his eyebrows.
“I’m the Doctor from Gallifrey, co-ordinates from galactic zero center are ten, zero, eleven, zero, zero, by zero, two. Frequency for radio is nine, seven, zero, three on alpha channel.”
Retsam wrote all this down.
“Oh,” said the Doctor. “So sorry, dear. This is Melanie.”
Retsam continued writing. He looked up.
“Thank you, Doctor. Now what is this mission of mercy you’re on?”
“We were sent by the High Council of Gallifrey to save the Ephron Constellation from a Cyberman invasion.”
Melanie almost asked why he’d said the High Council when they were sent by the White Guardian. Then she remembered that the White Guardian might be as hard to explain the TARDIS or the Doctor.
“Cybermen?” said Retsam, looking at the Doctor.
“Surely, you heard of them?” said the Doctor.
“We’ve had trouble with them before, according to our history classes, but that’s centuries ago. Why would they bother us again after such a terrible defeat?”
“Do you have any idea how they plan to invade the Ephram Constellation?” asked Retsam. “Last time we weren’t united and they attacked Delta Tisan. That’s why we united, come to think of it.”
“And very good of you,” said the Doctor. Then he answered Retsam’s question. “They’ll take Delta Tisan again, probably.”
The Doctor suddenly reeled.
“That’s it! Of course! I’ve been a fool not to see it!”
“What is it, Doctor?” Melanie asked.
“The Constellation Conference is being broadcast from here by satellite, isn’t it?” asked the Doctor, taking Retsam by the shoulders.
“Yes, of course. But I don’t see what that has to do with the Cybermen.”
“Don’t you?” said the Doctor, releasing him and turning to Mel. “Don’t you?” he asked her.
Mel thought for a moment.
“If these Cybermen, whatever they are, take over Delta Tisan they could hold the representatives - the whole planet - hostage.” Mel stood up from the bunk. “Oh, Doctor, we’ve got to help these people. Whatever these Cybermen are, they could hold the planet hostage to guarantee the other planets’ cooperation and probably destroy it if they didn’t.”
“That’s exactly what I thought,” said the Doctor. “Very good, Mel.” He turned back to Retsam who was open-mouthed in horror.
“Why didn’t I think of it?” he wondered.
“Because you weren’t thinking of it,” said the Doctor. “You were thinking of us as idiots. After a mock trial, we could he set free, charges dropped.”
Retsam bowed his head.
“You’re right. But you’ve convinced me.” He turned to go out, then stopped, looking back over his shoulder. “It’ll take more that that to convince the Prime Minister, I’m afraid.”
“Then contact Gallifrey,” said the Doctor. “Get them to tell you who I am. That should convince him.”
“I will. It’s been a most interesting conversation, Doctor. Thank you.”
He left the cell, the guard closing the door behind him, having opened it when Retsam started to leave. The guard also left,
“All the good it’ll do,” said the Doctor.
“What do you mean?” asked Mel.
“The High Council probably will decide to disown me after what I did last time.” And it all started with stealing a TARDIS, kidnapping his granddaughter and fleeing Gallifrey. After several regenerations he had come back to aid three of his four former selves and his companions to defeat - of all people - Borusa. They had named him president but he fled again in a stolen TARDIS with a stowaway and airline stewardess.
Mel knew all this. He had explained it just after she came on board the TARDIS. The Doctor had seven bodies left counting the one he was in.
“The High Council will simply ignore the signal. They’d rather have me sit and rot in this cell. First Law of Time: never interfere in the affairs of others.”
The Doctor laid down on the bunk.
“Then we’ll die here?” Mel cried.
“No,” said the Doctor, “We’ll get out. They’ll turn us loose as harmless idiots. We’ll get to the TARDIS somehow and leave.”
“Somehow? What do you mean?”
“They’ll have moved it by now. Probably in a security compound.”
“Then we will die here!” Melanie cried again.
“Nonsense, girl. I always get out of scrapes. Ask Peri, Tegan, Turlough, Nyssa, Adric . . .” The Doctor stopped, remembering something about Adric he had gotten used to and taken for granted. “No, don’t ask Adric. You can’t. I forgot about that.”
The Doctor sat up, taking Mel’s hands in his, looking at her realizing for the first time the similarities between she and Adric. Both rebels of a type, both good at math, and both fighting Cybermen. Adric had died fighting them.
“Oh, Melanie,” said the Doctor. “What have I gotten you into? This can’t happen again. I won’t allow it!”
He looked up at the ceiling.
“I want her out of this!” he yelled. “Do you hear me, Guardian? I won’t let what happened to Adric happen to Melanie. Do you hear me?”
“What happened to Adric, Doctor?” Mel asked, not even knowing who Adric was,
The Doctor began telling her of the similarities.
“The worst of them hasn’t happened,” the Doctor said.
“The worst?” Melanie asked, her eyes widening. “This Adric was killed, wasn’t he?”
The Doctor nodded, “Fighting - of all people - the Cybermen. And I was angry with him earlier for trying to find his way home.”
The Doctor told Mel who Adric was.
“You think I’ll die fighting the Cybermen, don’t you, Doctor?”
“It’s a possibility I had overlooked,” said the Doctor, lying back again. “I’m sorry I got you involved in this, Mel. I wish there was someway to console you.”
The Doctor closed his eyes, tired from his ordeal.
“Thanks a lot!” said Mel acidly, climbing to the top bunk.
Meanwhile, on the Cyberman invasion leadership, the Cybercopilot had received yet another message from their mysterious informant.
“Our informant has just come from a meeting with a man called the Doctor,” he reported, turning from the flight deck. “The man fits his present description.”
The Cyberleader turned from the Shadow Device.
“The Doctor?” He considered the situation. “The Doctor has come to interfere with our plans. We can destroy the Doctor for our past humiliations. Our scientists will use his TARDIS to model one of our own design.”
“Cybermen of the future will not only control space, but time,” said the Cyberlieutenant. “An excellent plan, Leader.”
“We are coming into range of the satellite system, Leader,” informed the Copilot.
“Order all ships to activate Shadow Devices. Prepare to attack,” said the Cyberleader.
The Cybercopilot turned to the radio, “Leadership to invasion fleet. Activate Shadow Devices and prepare to attack.”
The fleet disappeared and a field of black raced across the stars.
The Doctor and Melanie sat up expectantly at the sound of an electronic lock unlocking to see Retsam coming through the door into the cell.
“Well?” asked the Doctor.
“Gallifrey has confirmed your identity, but as an observer. The said you have been sent on a mission of mercy. The one you told me of,” Retsam reported. “They said you were to be listened to for the good of the Ephron Constellation.”
“They said that?” the Doctor, bewildered and impressed at the same time.
“I informed the Prime Minister of your mission. He will announce the situation during the Constellation Conference. It seems your job is done, Doctor.”
Retsam led them out of the cell into the corridor.
“Not quite,” said the Doctor. “I have to see them destroyed or defeated.”
“Our strike command can take care of it,” said Retsam smoothly.
The Doctor thought he recognized the smooth quality then decided he’d been locked up too long.
“When did Delta Tisan last encounter the Cybermen?” asked the Doctor.
“About three hundred years ago,” said Retsam.
“They must have just escaped from Mondas.”
“What are Cybermen, Doctor?” asked Melanie.
“Cyborgs,” he answered, as if the explained it all. But Melanie knew him.
“What are cyborgs, Doctor?”
“Cybermen were men at one time,” began the Doctor. “But they allowed their study of cybernetics to take them over. Cybernetics is the study of replacing organic parts with mechanical ones. The Cybermen are reliant on energy and appreciate oxygen when they invade a planet with the luxury but they don’t need it. They have the strength of a hydraulic lift and rely on logic for the answer to all their questions. They’re terribly militaristic and literal. They have no love or hate, joy or sorrow, qualms or scruples or pity. Apart from the Daleks, they are my most hated enemies.”
“But that’s awful, Doctor!” cried Melanie. “How could anyone become like that?”
“I don’t know why they became reliant on cybernetics, Melanie. But you’re right. It is awful.”
“Indeed,” said Retsam. “Well, Doctor, seeing as how your job is done, perhaps you’d like to be on your way.”
“My dear Retsam, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were trying to get rid of me.”
“Not at all, Doctor.”
“Then how will the Prime Minister announce the Cyberman invasion to all of the Ephron Constellation?”
“By using the satellite communications system.”
“I thought as much.”
“What’s wrong, Doctor?” asked Melanie. “Can’t we leave now?”
“No. Don’t you see? The Cybermen will probably use the satellite system against the Ephron Constellation.”
“I don’t see how,” said Retsam.
“No, Doctor, he doesn’t. And neither do you,” said Melanie, who was getting aggravated.
“They could tap into it and announce their demands and they could use it to destroy a planet with their technology.”
Retsam looked at him as if he were mad. “They must have advanced quite a lot, then.”
“Quite,” said the Doctor. “I need exclusive use of your satellite system and a tool store.”
“What do you plan to do?”
“I plan to let the Cybermen in, then emit a powerful sonic boost through the satellite system. I’ll set it on a frequency for Cybermen only. I plan to rattle them apart.”
“A very clever plan, Doctor.”
“Then let’s get going. Where’s your satellite system controlled from?”
Retsam went left followed by the Doctor and Melanie. They came to a door marked Satellite Communications Control Center. Retsam led them in. The Doctor and Melanie were in a large room with ten computers on one wall and wall-to-wall technicians.
In the center of the room was a massive, free-standing ten-sided table. It, like the Shadow Device, looked similar to the TARDIS. The column was replaced by ten screens.
“That,” said Retsam, pointing to the computer table, “is Central Control Module One.” He grinned and laughingly said, “Actually it’s the only one. They meant to build two more for secondary and emergency control systems.”
“Well that’s what we have here,” said the Doctor, “is an emergency. Where are some tools I could work on it with?”
“Tool closet over there,” Retsam indicated a set of double doors in the wall opposite the computers. He turned and started for the door.
“I must inform the Prime Minister of your suspicions and plans, Doctor,” he said, opening the door. “He will have to give you a warrant to work on the Module.”
He left the room, closing the door.
“A warrant?” said the Doctor. “Hmmph!”
“Doctor,” said Melanie warningly, “you’re not going to do what I think you’re going to do, are you?”
“If by that you mean use that Module thing without authority, yes I am.”
With that, he went into the tool closet and came out with an odd assortment of tools which be spread out on the floor by the base of the Module.
“Whew!” he exclaimed. “What poor technology! The Cybermen will take this over in no time.”
“Not every planet has you marvelous Time Lord technology!” said Melanie hotly, tired of the Doctor’s criticism.
The Doctor paid her no attention. He was listening to an excited report from a technician.
“There’s some sort of distortion in space,” he was saying. “It looks like a field of just black nothing coming toward us.”
The Doctor rushed to the computer. On either side of the screen there were two smaller screens. On each was a field of black moving across the stars.
Suddenly one of the speakers on the computer (there were four) came to life.
“Leadership to invasion fleet,” said a static-filled voice. “Proceed with caution. Our informant has reported that the Doctor is attempting to stop us. Keep Shadow Devices on at all times. Proceed.”
The speaker went dead.
“Shadow Devices?” asked the Doctor of himself. “Of course! That’s the field of black. The Cybermen thought they had invisibility. Something’s wrong.”
“It doesn’t matter, Doctor,” said Melanie. “This thing says they’re through the satellite system.”
A red light flashed on the computer. The Cyberman invasion was succeeding.
“So they are,” said the Doctor. “Part of my plan.”
“What plan, Doctor?” asked Melanie.
“My plan to defeat the Cybermen.”
He went back to the tool closet and dug around. He popped out with a small, slender device with one angled bulbous end. It had very small controls set into it. The Doctor held it fondly.
“I haven’t seen one of these since that thing with the Terrileptils,” he beamed.
“What is it?” asked Melanie.
“A sonic screwdriver.”
The Doctor knelt beneath the control table Retsam had called Module One. He began attacking it with the sonic screwdriver.
“Invasion force closing,” called a technician.
The Doctor looked at the huge screen. The field of black was getting closer.
“Oh dear,” he muttered and set to work again. “Someone fetch me a sonic booster,” he called.
A technician left the room then returned with a bulky square machine with one gauge and one lever set into the top. A small computer was mounted on one side. A long cable was wrapped around a hook on the other.
The technician set it beside the Doctor and returned to work.
The Doctor took the cable form its hook and found the end at which was a large plug similar to an ordinary lamp plug. He connected it to the Module One unit and made a few minute adjustments.
“Invasion force still closing,” called the technician.
“Good,” said the Doctor. “The closer the better.”
“Invasion force closing for landing formation,” called the technician.
“Too close!” the Doctor exclaimed, setting the booster. He pulled the lever slowly, watching the screen.
Gradually the field of black got smaller.
On the leader ship, the Cyberleader was taking this latest development quite coolly, considering Cybermen have no emotions.
“Deactivate Shadow Devices,” he ordered.
The remaining Cyberman ships appeared, many of which were destroyed as soon as they did. Soon only two ships were left: the leader ship and another. The other exploded as soon as the magnified sonic energy slammed into it.
The Doctor, Melanie, and the Delta Tisanian technicians (what a mouthful) watched on expectantly, waiting for the last ship to explode. The technicians cheered each time a ship exploded. Now only one was left.
Quite unexpectedly, the power went out, leaving them in the dark. The Doctor, who still had his hand on the booster lever, switched it off. The technicians mumbled in the dark, wondering what happened and if they’d gotten the last ship.
“Switch to emergency generators,” a technician called.
“Soon as I can find the control,” called another.
“What happened?” asked Melanie.
“I probably caused a short in the system,” said the Doctor.
“Get off my feet!” yelled a female technician.
“So sorry,” said a liquid voice.
Just then the emergency lights came on. The computers and scanners flickered on. The woman who had yelled jumped and stifled a scream as Retsam stepped in the huge control room.
He approached the Doctor.
“You are in big trouble,” he said.
“I was afraid of that,” the Doctor began, “but if you’ll allow me, I can explain why I didn’t wait.”
“Don’t tell me, Doctor.”
Retsam stepped to the left side of the door.
Three huge silver figures strode into the control room. The last ship had survived. The Cybermen were on Delta Tisan.
The Doctor was quiet for once. He had known that there had been the possibility of one of the ships escaping. But did it have to be the leader ship? He mentally sighed.
The Cyberleader approached the Doctor who stepped back instinctively.
“So these are Cybermen?” asked Melanie, breaking the tension.
“Yes, they are,” said the Doctor, looking up to the tall silver form in front of him. He laced his fingers behind his head.
“My turn to say ‘so, Leader, we meet again,’ is it?” he asked.
“Indeed, Doctor.” The black-helmeted figure looked down at the Time Lord. “Why must you always break what must be the Time Lord’s Cardinal Rule?” It is not logical that they should allow it.”
“You may not believe this, but they sent me.”
The Cyberleader paused, considering his answer.
“You are a renegade, Doctor. Therefore the Time Lords are free to use you as their instrument. If anything unexpected happens, such as your failure to prevent us from taking over Delta Tisan and your immediate execution, they will be clean.”
“That’s a sore point,” said the Doctor, dropping his hands to his sides, looking down.
The Cyberleader turned to Retsam.
“You will arrange for the Doctor’s execution.”
“Certainly,” came the unexpected reply, causing a murmur of disbelief in the crowd. The Doctor looked at Retsam through narrowed eyes.
“You arranged for that black out, didn’t you?”
Retsam smiled. “I did.”
“Why must there always be a traitor in the midst?” the Doctor sighed.
Retsam laughed. “Am I a traitor, Doctor?” His voice hardened. “Or just another renegade like you?”
“What?” said the Doctor.
Retsam’s face blurred then cleared to reveal a dark, evil face with a pointed black beard and black hair.
The Master has revealed himself.
Another Plan While Prisoners Again
“The Master!” exclaimed Melanie.
“Dear Mel,” grinned the Master.
“I should have known,” said the Doctor.
“Enough,” said the Cyberleader. “Take them to a holding cell.”
Two Cybermen moved forward. They took the Doctor and Melanie from the room. The Doctor was surprisingly quiet.
Once they were gone, the Master turned to the Cyberleader.
“What of the technicians?” he asked, indicating the white coated men and women in a corner.