Steve Cole - Doctor Who - The Knight, The Fool and The Dead

‘More Kotturuh ships are approaching,’ said Brian.

Tension spread across the bridge. The creatures’ name was still to be feared. Weapons were manned, and the ship bucked beneath him as the systems powered up. The Doctor gave himself just a moment to appreciate the outré and ornate nature of so much technology here in the Dark Times: if they could have carved a spaceship out of marble and run its engines on coal, then doubtless they would have.

‘Here they come,’ Brian said, as the screen began to fill with dark, glittering craft of flexible glass and metal, undulating like creatures dredged from deepest, darkest seas. More and more of the weird ships appeared, flexing and spreading, trailing eerie tendrils in an intimidating display.

‘I thought they’d open fire at once,’ Brian admitted.

‘They want us blocked in first,’ the Doctor said calmly. ‘No way for us to run.’

‘The entire fleet could be destroyed!’

‘No,’ the Doctor said. ‘I don’t think they care about the fleet. They just want to get past us and under the protective shield. Maybe it’ll save them.’

‘Will it?’

The Doctor crossed to a control panel, and inserted some of the crystals into a device. ‘Brian,’ he said, ‘I’m going to bore you about Mordeela.’

‘Please do.’

‘These crystals –’ he slotted a few more crystals inside the machine, with the intensity of a child at the penny arcade – ‘can reflect whatever energy the Kotturuh have channelled down on Mordeela back in on itself. The Kotturuh may be history’s problem now, but if all that weaponised energy they draw upon still exists …’ Three more crystals went inside. ‘I owe it to the future to seal off their power source so no other race with a death wish can pick up where they left off.’

‘ We are dying .’

A Kotturuh filled the screen. It was speaking from inside the sepulchral interior of its craft. But something was wrong with the creature. Behind its veil, the flesh was running like an open wound.

‘Help us,’ it begged. ‘We cannot contain the infection.’

‘I told you I’d stop you,’ the Doctor said. ‘The death you’ve brought to so many others is coming back to bite you.’

‘This is not new life.’ The Kotturuh shook itself like a wet dog, black gore splashing through its veil. ‘This is not justice … This is … unravelling … nothing …’

The voice choked to whispers and the Kotturuh’s body followed it, fading to bleached, misshapen bones. As its bulk vanished, other Kotturuh on board could be seen, hovering at their black and spiny posts. They too were unravelling into dust.

‘Please, help … Doctor …’

The Kotturuh ship fell silent. Dust motes spun in the settling air.

‘Ashes to ashes,’ said the Doctor, and a chill spread across the bridge.

Mordeela had little atmosphere, but behind its shield the planet seemed swathed in blankets of unearthly light. More and more Kotturuh ships flitted under the shield. A glow spread between them. Were they working frantically to save themselves? Or were they getting ready to fight back?

Aware of the uncomfortable silence, the Doctor carefully closed the hatch on his device. ‘It’s ready, Brian.’

Brian regarded a control panel. ‘I can see it is online and ready to fire.’

‘No,’ the Doctor chided. ‘It’s not a weapon. Don’t say fire . Say go . All we’re doing is reflecting back the Kotturuh’s own energy signatures. Bricking up the well; sealing off Mordeela.’

‘Very well,’ the Ood tutted. An inferior Burgundy had clearly been ordered.

The Doctor stood there, on the bridge of his ship, the planet spinning below him. He was the Time Lord Victorious. He’d taken on Death, and he was winning and it felt so good. Payback, at last.

But … was this really the right thing to do? Was it?

‘Let’s get this over with,’ he said. He licked his lips, opened his mouth ready to give the order to ‘ Go! ’ only—

A spacecraft – shaped like a silver saucer – appeared to one side of the fleet.

A terrifyingly familiar saucer.

‘It can’t be …’ the Doctor said.

A face appeared on the screen. Both Brian and the Doctor reacted to it.

‘Hello, Doctor.’

‘No.’ It was another Doctor. Two Doctors ago, handsome, pale-eyed and looking rather cross.

‘I’ve come to stop you,’ said the Eighth Doctor. ‘And when I say I’ve come to stop you, I mean … that we have come to stop you.’

Number Eight stepped aside, so that everyone on the flagship’s flight deck could see behind him. But only the Doctor gasped and took a step back on instinct.

The saucer was full of Daleks. Daleks, glaring at him in silent hatred. His earlier self was surrounded by – working with – his deadliest enemies.

‘Is this a joke?’ the Doctor hissed.

The image on the screen split in two as another spaceship appeared beside the saucer. A forbidding craft, almost beautiful in its ugliness. Coffin Ship , he thought. No, it couldn’t be … could it? What was happening?

The image swam as another face appeared on the screen. Sad face. Cheery smile. Little wave. Grey, grim countenances gathered round behind him, staring out from the gloom.

‘We need to talk.’

It was the man he’d become at the end of the Time War. The Ninth Doctor. Standing on a ship of the undead.

‘What is this?’ the Doctor breathed.

‘We know you think you’re doing the right thing. But you’re not.’

The Eighth and the Ninth Doctors turned to each other as if they could see each other across space, and nodded.

‘You think you’ve saved the future,’ said Number Eight, ‘but you’re about to break it. Stop. You have to stop.’

The Doctor, resplendent in the ancient battledress of the Time Lords, regarded his two former selves and shook his head. ‘This is a trick. The last Kotturuh, putting images into my mind—’

‘No trick,’ said Nine.

‘No one tells me what to do,’ said the Doctor. ‘Not even me.’

‘Wrong. Don’t do it!’ Eight implored him.

‘Stop,’ Nine said. ‘Seriously, stop now.’

The Doctor looked at the screens. At the planet Mordeela shining below. At a pleading Doctor surrounded by Daleks. At an angry Doctor on a coffin full of vampires.

They were wrong. He was right. It was time to prove it.

Brian was staring at him intently. ‘You were about to say, “Go”?’

The Doctor adjusted his ceremonial attire, stood straighter and killed the images on the screen. ‘Mordeela’s going down with the Kotturuh. If myselves want to make this a battle, we’ll make it a battle.’ He took a deep, deep breath.

‘I’m saying, Fire! ’

Find out what happens next in Doctor Who – Time Lord Victorious – All Flesh is Grass by Una McCormack, publishing in December 2020

THIS IS JUST

THE BEGINNING

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First published by BBC Books in 2020