The Third Encounter
PART VI
by John Seavey
The Doctor looked at the thing in the doorway with a calm, collected expression on his face. It lunged at him, but bounced off an invisible barrier that seemed to exist in the space where the door had been. The Doctor didn't even flinch.
"Careless," he said to the Soul Eater. "Careless and sloppy. You should have waited to get permission before shifting form like that. Now you can't enter unless I let you in--and I have no intention of doing so."
"But I can wait, Ephemeral," it hissed. "I can wait."
"Good," said the Doctor, pulling up a chair. "While you wait, you could perhaps explain to me what I'm doing in 1997."
"Running, Ephemeral." It barked out a bizarre, choking laughter. "My master wished you, the great seeker of knowledge, to die in ignominous ignorance, with the clues that led to understanding just beyond yor reach. He wanted you to die alone, and in agony. And I shall fulfill that desire!" It flung itself at him again, but rebounded off the barrier once more.
The Doctor sighed. "That won't work, you know...look, could you bring your master here, and let him bluster and pontificate in person?"
The Soul Eater laughed again. "Foolish, indeed, Ephemeral! Many have begged to be spared my master's presence, but you--you ask him to come here! Very well, Ephemeral, I shall manifest his form, I shall bring him forth...I am certain he will be delighted to see you!"
With that, the Soul Eater began to metamorphose again. The skin-tight combat suit it wore loosened and lengthened, becoming floor-length black robes with leopardskin lapels. The face shifted and flowed like water, becoming the cruel, hawklike features of an arrogant old man. The hair transformed itself into an elaborate headdress. Finally, the new form smiled. "Greetings, Time Lord. It has been some while."
"Yes, it has. The White Guardian warned me you were waiting for our third encounter, but I must confess, I thought you'd given up on me."
"I am the Black Guardian," said the old man. "I am hatred incarnate, Doctor...and I never forget a slight against me, nor an enemy that has defeated me. It took time for me to regain my power, and then, you were under the protection of Time. But now, Doctor...now I shall destroy you utterly. You, and this pathetic planet you profess such fondness for."
"Oh, really?" The Doctor looked, if anything, amused. Inside, though, his mind was racing with ideas. He had to draw the Guardian out, find out what his plans were. "And just how do you plan to do that, eh? Turn everyone in Pease Pottage into a Soul Eater, one person at a time?"
"No, Doctor," said the Black Guardian with a smile. "There is a newspaper there on the table. Look at the page it is open to."
The Doctor walked over to the table. "'Calendar of Events: May 14:Jazz Exhibition, by Live at 5. June 5: 'The Nine Travellers.' A Presentation by Emelia Rumford.' Emelia Rumford? That was why you brought me here? To read a newspaper with a mention of Emelia Rumford in it?"
"I know you to be intelligent, Doctor. Prove your intelligence to me now."
"Well, Emelia Rumford assisted Romana and I when we searched for the third segment of the Key to Time. Surprised she's still alive, actually, that was about twenty years ago..." his eyes widened in shock. "The 1972 conjunction! You sent the TARDIS...no! Even you wouldn't dare!"
"I dare all, Doctor! I have the means now for power and destruction beyond even my own wildest imaginings, and your beloved TARDIS and your beloved Earth will be my instruments! And I leave you, stranded and helpless, to await the end! Check...and mate, Doctor."
The Doctor shook his head numbly. "You can't--you simply can't! What you're planning, it's monstrous beyond all imagining!"
"Not all imagining, Doctor," said the Guardian. "I can imagine it--and by so doing, I can enact it."
"Not if I can help it," said a voice from the hallway. The Black Guardian spun to look at the newcomer.
She wore a brown trenchcoat over a black combat suit, and mirrored sunglasses covered her eyes and reflected a seemingly empty hallway. There was something distinctly odd about the shape of her back--almost as though she was wearing something bulky under her coat. She blasted the Guardian with three quick shots from a laser pistol and it shrieked, morphing momentarily back into the Soul Eater before disintegrating completely.
"Hullo, Professor," she said as she walked into the hospital room. "Sorry I'm late, but one of those things caught up with me in 1963 and I had to crisp it a bit."
The Doctor's face lit up. "Dorothée!" he said, racing over to give her a warm hug. "You look wonderful!"
"You don't look bad yourself," Dorothée said, looking at him appraisingly. "I like the new body, that's for sure. You didn't mention it in your letter."
"What letter--no, don't tell me. The letter I'm going to send you after all this is over, telling you to be here." So much for breaking bad habits, he chided himself.
"Exactly," she said. "So now that I am here, what's going on?"
"The end of the universe. Come on," he said, dashing out of the room. Dorothée followed behind, shouting, "What about Melanie?"
"No time," the Doctor responded. "We've got to get back to 1972, and I don't have a TARDIS right now!"
Later...the Doctor was reflecting on how different time-travel was the way Dorothée did it. Sort of like the difference between flying Concorde and going by hang-glider.
"So why are we going back to 1972? What's going to happen there?"
"A famous celestial conjunction," the Doctor responded. "There are certain times when various stars and celestial bodies arrange themselves in ways that naturally conduct energy--and beings with the proper know-how can collect and use this energy. Osiran technology, for example, was based on the alignment of celestial energies. But these energies are going to be used for a far different purpose."
"What sort?"
"The Black Guardian plans to destroy the TARDIS. He'll channel the celestial energies through his followers in that time, and the resultant release of energy will destroy most of England. That, in turn, will create a temporal paradox on a scale that would unravel the entire space-time continuum...and the Black Guardian will drink all that power in, all the while taking delight in the chaos and destruction." His face was dark. "We can't let it happen, Dorothée. No matter what the cost."