51 : End of Time (Part 4)
“Naismith. If I can track him down…” the Doctor trails off as he remembers that Wilfred hasn’t been inside the TARDIS before. “Ah. Right. Yes. Bigger on the inside. Do you like it?”
“I thought it’d be cleaner,” Wilfred says, looking around.
“Cleaner?” The Doctor looks at his smiling wife with disbelief. “I could take you back home right now.”
“Listen, Doctor, if this is a time machine, that man you’re chasing, why can’t you just pop back to yesterday and catch him?”
“I can’t go back inside my own timeline. I have to stay relative to the Master within the causal nexus. Understand?”
“Not a word.”
“Welcome aboard,” Violet says with a smile.
“Thank you,” the older man says, returning the smile.
: : : :
“We’ve moved,” Wilfred declares, turning around and looking at the scenery. “We’ve really moved!”
“You should stay here,” the Doctor suggests.
“Not bloody likely.”
“And don’t swear. Hold on.” The Doctor points the key at the TARDIS, which disappears. “Just a second out of sync. Don’t want the Master finding the TARDIS. That’s the last thing we need, no offence, honey.”
Violet merely shrugs and says nothing, beginning her walk to the building and leaving the two males to scramble after her. She, Wilfred and the Doctor have to hide from a patrol not even a minute after they set foot on the mansion grounds, and Violet kind of blames her companions for that, but she knows that her annoyance is misplaced right now.
“That book said he’s a billionaire,” Wilfred says with disbelief. “He’s got his own private army.”
The Doctor opens a small door in an archway and the three of them walk through, the Time Lord closing the door behind them. Taking the lead, Violet stalks down the corridor she has a feeling leads to the basement of the mansion. It’s not much longer until a female voice reaches the half-breed’s ears, and the smell of an alien species reaches her nose, making her walk faster until she enters the basement, the Doctor and Wilfred right behind her.
“The man’s a miracle,” a Shimmer clad female Vinvocci informs their companion, her voice echoing down the corridor. “All the systems are slotting back into place. The shatterthreads have harmonised, the fibre links intensified and the multiple overshots have triplicated.”
“Nice Gate,” the Doctor appreciates, startling the Vinvocci.
She stares at them in horror.
“Hello,” Wilfred says. “Sorry.”
“Don’t try calling security, or I’ll tell them you’re wearing a Shimmer,” the Doctor warns. “Because I reckon anyone wearing a Shimmer doesn’t want the Shimmer to be noticed, or they wouldn’t need a Shimmer in the first place.”
“I’m sorry?” the female Vinvocci says, playing confused. “What’s a Shimmer?”
The Doctor points his sonic screwdriver at her. “Shimmer.”
She turns green, the Shimmer vanishing and revealing her true Vinvocci form.
“Oh, my Lord,” Wilfred exclaims. “She’s a cactus.”
“Miss Addams?” a male voice calls through a comm system, making Violet realise that they’re about to have company. “Miss Addams? If you’ll just excuse me.”
: : : :
“He’s got it working, but what is it?” Violet murmurs to herself, as well as the Doctor, as they reads the screens. “What’s working?”
A man hurries down the stairs. “What are you doing here?”
Without turning around, the Doctor points the screwdriver at Rossiter. “Shimmer!”
He turns green, the Shimmer vanishing and revealing his true Vinvocci form.
“Now, tell me quickly, what’s going on? The Master, Harold Saxon, Skeletor, whatever you’re calling him, what’s he doing up there?”
It doesn’t take long for the male Vinvocci, under the guise of a man called Rossiter, to explain everything, his companion, the female Vinvocci going under the name of Dr Addams, assisting him in some instances. The way they interact reminds Violet of an old married couple, and that thought allows for a single, weak smile to appear on her face for barely a second.
“Who are you, though? ’Cause I met someone like you,” the Doctor says. “He was brilliant, but he was little and red.”
“No, that’s a Zocci,” Addams says with something akin to disgust.
“We’re not Zocci, we’re-” Rossiter is cut off by Violet.
“Vinvocci,” the half Time Lord says, staring the two down. “Completely different, am I right?”
Addams nods. “And the Gate is Vinvocci. We’re a salvage team. We picked up the signal when the humans reactivated it. And as soon as it’s working, we can transport it to the ship.”
“But what does it do?” the Doctor asks, his curiosity growing.
“Well, it mends. It’s a simple as that,” Rossiter informs. “It’s a medical device to repair the body. It makes people better.”
“No, there’s got to be more. Every single warning says the Master’s going to do something colossal.”
“So that thing’s like a sickbed, yes?” Wilfred asks, trying to understand some of what is going on.
“More or less,” Addams agrees.
“Well, pardon me for asking, but why is it so big?”
“Oh, good question,” the Time Lord exclaims. “Why’s it so big?”
“It doesn’t just mend one person at a time,” Addams says with a laugh.
“That would be ridiculous,” Rossiter agrees with a smile.
“It mends whole planets.”
“It does what?” Violet demands, her blue-grey eyes burning.
“It transmits the medical template across the entire population,” Addams informs.
The Doctor runs through the corridors, Violet in step with the lanky-legged Regeneration of the Time Lord. He yells for them to turn off the Gate, but all he gets in return are a bunch of guns pointed at him and Violet. She skids to a stop and looks her newfound father, trying to figure out what to do in this situation that doesn’t involve using violence, but she’s drawing blanks.
“No, no, no, no, no,” her husband exclaims. “Whatever you do, just don’t let him near that device.”
“Oh, like that was ever going to happen.” The Master throws off the strait jacket and leaps over their heads on pillars of energy from his hands, into the Gate. “Homeless, was I? Destitute and dying? Well, look at me now.”
“Deactivate it. All of you, turn the whole thing off!”
The Master laughs and it seems to echo throughout everything, and come from everything. Violet stands stationary instead of flinching away like she usually does, and she knows it’s only because she knows the truth now. The Doctor runs towards his old friend, but the Master’s blast of energy knocks the Doctor down.
“Doctor!” Wilfred exclaims, running in. “Doctor, there’s, there’s this face.”
“What is it?” the Doctor asks just as Violet demands, “What can you see?”
“Well, it’s him. I can see him.”
Violet watches the TV in horror as the President of the United States holds his face in his hands. The Doctor goes to the computer and tries to shut down the Gate.
“I can’t turn it off,” the Doctor growls.
“That’s because I locked it, idiot,” the Master teases.
“Wilfred! Get inside. Get him out.” The Doctor enters one of a pair of glass sided cubicles, and Wilfred swaps places with a technician in the other. “Just need to filter the levels.”
“Oh, I can see again!” Wilfred complains, but he soon changes his tune. “He’s gone.”
“Radiation shielding. Now press the button. Let me out.”
“I can’t get out until you press the button. That button there.”
Wilfred does just that, making his cubicle ‘Locked’ and the Doctor’s ‘Open’, allowing the Time Lord to get out.
“Fifty seconds and counting,” the Master cheers.
“To what?” the Doctor asks.
“Oh, you’re going to love this.”
“What is it, hypnotism? Mind control. You’re grafting your thoughts inside them, is that it?”
“Oh, that’s way too easy. No, no, no. They’re not going to think like me, they’re going to become me. And, zero!”
A blast of energy moves out from the Master and the Gate, and spreads across the entire planet. Everyone’s face becomes blurred except for Donna and Wilfred, and the Doctor and Violet of course.
“You can’t have.”
“What is it?” Wilfred demands.
“But they’ve changed,” Donna’s voice says, coming from the phone in her grandfather’s hand. “Granddad, that’s like, like the sort of thing that happened before. My head. Oh, my head! Oh, my head!”
“Doctor? She’s starting to remember.” The older man turns and glares at the Master. “What is it? What have you done, you monster?
“Oh, I’m sorry, are you talking to me?” the Master asks.
“Or to me?” the Naismith-Master asks.
“Or to me?” the woman-Master asks.
“Or to me?” the head of security-Master asks
“Or to us?” the security guard-Masters ask.
“The Human race was always your favourite, Doctor. But now, there is no Human race. There is only the Master race.” The real Master cackles.