Trembling from his inner struggle, the Master obeyed.

Tersurus was a nothing planet – bare rock, a few struggling lichens Little greenery, and nothing animal at all in sight. Maybe she wasn’t seeing it at its best, but Susan hardly cared about that. She hadn’t been a tourist since she’d left Grandfather.

‘That’s far enough,’ she decided. The Master staggered to a halt. ‘Now, put that thing down and step away from it.’

‘What are you going to do?’ the Master demanded. He seemed to be recovering slowly but incrementally from the mental assault.

‘I’m going to destroy it so that neither you nor any other maniac can use it,’ she replied grimly.

‘No!’ he yelped. ‘It’s my tool to power! You can’t have it! You can’t!’ His mind was starting to crumble again from the stress.

Susan glared at him coldly ‘I’m destroying it in five seconds,’ she stated. ‘If you’re still holding it then – so be it.’

‘It’s mine!’ he screamed, and he tried to run. But he’d overestimated his own strength, and instead crashed to the ground. Whimpering and snarling, he clutched the transmuter to his chest.

‘Five,’ Susan said, and aimed the TCE. There was neither pity nor mercy left in her. She triggered the device, knowing she was killing the Master, too – and discovered that she was glad of it. If any being deserved death, it was him.

The energies of the TCE ravaged through the transmuter, and on into the Master’s body. There was no respite for him now, no way to regenerate from such a death. The transmuter exploded, energies flaring forth. Susan staggered back, shielding her eyes, and reentered the Master’s TARDIS. She closed the doors swiftly and hurried to the console. There she switched on the screen. She could see the energy wave licking futilely at the shell of the TARDIS.

It was over. The transmuter was destroyed, the Master dead.

Now what? What did she have left to her? She stared down at the console, lost and confused. She was free again, in all senses of the word. David’s death had severed her ties to Earth, and, now she had a TARDIS, everywhere was open to her.

She gradually realised that a warning light was flashing. Susan dredged through her memories – her own, as well as some she’d taken from the Master – and recognised it as a signal lock.

That brought her crashing back to the here and now with a shock. When she’d switched off the TARDIS’s defence systems, she’d left it vulnerable to a search from Gallifrey! The Time Lords were tracking her down… And she knew what would happen to her if they found her. She’d fled her homeworld with her grandfather for very good reasons, which were unlikely to have changed. She moved quickly, drawing on the Master’s knowledge of his ship to reset the defence grid to shield her signal. Then she set the controls to a random destination and engaged the drive units.

With a whisper, the ship left the ruins of Tersurus behind. Since she didn’t have any idea where she was going, neither would the Time Lords. She was still free of them. And she now had a TARDIS once again… One that was controllable… She stared at the console in wonder. She was no longer confined to Earth. She could go anywhere, do anything.

But David… Grandfather…

She was free, but her two great loves were no longer with her.

15

Happy Endings?

Donna sat glumly by the bed that held the Doctor, hating everything. Especially, she hated hospitals. They always stank of things she knew she didn’t want to identify. She hated doctors, because, when it came down to it, they didn’t know what they were doing. In the case of the Doctor, it was triply so. All they’d done was stitch up what they could and left him to live or die. Their excuse was that, given his alien metabolism, anything humans considered medicine might well be lethal to him. She hated them for that, but what Donna hated most was the fact that they were right.

The Doctor had been unconscious for two days. The ECG had held pretty steady, though the readings indicated a human being should be dead. The Doctor wasn’t dead but it was hard to tell whether he was becoming more alive. Things were happening all around her, but Donna had no will to find out what they were. All she could do was to stand vigil over the Doctor. Well, sit vigil, really – she didn’t have the strength to stand.

The door to the room opened, and Barlow ambled in, carrying a tray. On it were two mugs of tea and a plate of biscuits. ‘Thought you’d need this,’ he said, setting the tray down and handing her a mug. ‘That’s the way you like it, right?’

She sipped the tea, and discovered it was with a little milk, one sugar. ‘Lucky guess?’ she asked.

‘Spies,’ he answered with a grin, putting the biscuits down beside her. ‘Comes in handy being boss sometimes.’

She gave him a tired look. ‘Don’t you have anything better to do than to make me a pot of tea?’ she asked.

He pretended to consider the question seriously, and then shook his head. ‘Nope, not a thing.’

Donna snorted. ‘You’ve taken over effective power in this whole damned area,’ she said. ‘You’re merging London and Haldoran Domains, cleaning up after the Daleks, and you’ve nothing better to do than make me tea? Excuse my disbelief.’

‘I’m getting used to it,’ he replied. ‘I notice you disbelieve everything out of habit, But, I swear, it’s true – I’ve nothing more important to do.’

‘You must rate making tea really high on the scale of things,’ she jibed.

‘Not the tea.’ He took the other seat in the room, and nodded at the bed. ‘How is he?’

‘God knows.’ Donna sighed. ‘There’s been no change for two days.’

‘Well, at least he’s not getting worse.’ Barlow leaned forward. ‘He saved us all, didn’t he?’

‘Yes, he bloody well did,’ Donna agreed. She sipped at her tea, refusing to let her emotions overwhelm her as they had so often these past two days. It was time to change the subject. ‘How’s it feel to be the new Lord London?’

‘Strange,’ he admitted. ‘But right.’ His face softened.’ Though I’m sorry your father was killed. That wasn’t my intention.’

That made her snort tea out of her nose. ‘You led the bloody war against him!’

‘Politics, not preference,’ Barlow said. ‘I wouldn’t have killed him.’

‘More fool you, then,’ Donna replied, still not really believing him. ‘He never gave in to anything in his life with grace.’

‘No,’ Barlow agreed. ’Well, I’ve had enough of killing. Seeing how close the Daleks came to wiping us out made me realise what an idiot I’ve been.’

Donna raised a cynical eyebrow. ‘So you’re giving up power and heading off to be a monk,’ she jeered.

‘Hardly,’ he responded with a grin. ‘Like I said, I’m the best man to bring everything together now. Only I want to do it peacefully – or at least, try to. It ought to be possible for us to reason this out. Besides, I’d make a lousy monk – my mind’s far too filthy.’

Donna looked as if she was about to smile. ‘I see. Well, I’m pleased to hear you talk of peace, anyway.’

He shrugged, and looked slightly uncomfortable. ‘Which really brings me to why I’m here,’ he said.

She glanced down at the mug of tea. ‘You’re not really the kitchen help?’

‘I want you to marry me,’ he said.

Donna looked at him sharply. ‘You’ve got a bloody nerve!’

That made him grin. ‘Yeah, haven’t I? I’ve cheek enough for ten people. Don’t worry, I’m not talking a love match here or anything. It’s purely political. It will stabilise things if I marry the old Lord London’s daughter, won’t it?’

Trying not to think too hard about it, Donna nodded. ‘Or one of his other relatives,’ she added.

Barlow scowled. ‘It’s you or that cow Brittany,’ he said. ‘And I know you don’t care for me much, but would you saddle anyone with that bitch?’