Chapter 58

THE DOORS OF the TARDIS opened onto Shada.

There was no hint of decay, no sense of a place abandoned and forgotten. Existing as it did beyond a time-lock, and therefore in a state of perfect timelessness outside the normal physical laws of the universe, Shada could have been built yesterday, reflected Romana as she stepped from the TARDIS. Equally, she thought, it could have been built tomorrow. That thought made her wince. It was the kind of thing poor old Professor Chronotis used to come out with.

The huge, red high-vaulted chamber in which the TARDIS had materialised was silent and empty. Romana recognised traces of a long-past Gallifreyan architectural style, much less fussy and ornate than the Capitol she had grown up in. The huge sloping walls were a dark red, with occasional circular panels – similar to those in the TARDIS but much larger – pulsing with fierce crimson light.

She looked above her. The chamber seemed to stretch up and up, hundreds of metres of empty space. Suspended against one facet of the chamber, way above the heads of herself, the Kraags and Skagra, was a heavy stone block into which had been carved the complex pattern that was the Seal of Rassilon, the same design that adorned the cover of the book still clutched tightly in Skagra’s gloved hands.

Romana tried to tell herself that this was just a room. A room in a very strange place, admittedly, but only a room. She tried to push down the waves of panic, almost of revulsion, she felt as those long-blocked race memories – if that was what they were – surged and stirred deep inside her mind.

Skagra, followed as ever by the bobbing sphere, walked slowly into the very centre of the chamber and threw his arms wide in an almost messianic pose.

‘Shada!’ he cried.

The sound of the word echoed and re-echoed around the walls.

‘It looks horrid,’ observed Romana, trying very hard to sound unimpressed.

Skagra wheeled on her, pointing a finger. ‘Built by your race. A prison for the very worst criminals.’

‘You should feel quite at home here, then,’ said Romana. She had noted the effect of the Doctor’s often-terrible jokes on Skagra. They made him angry and distracted, and a weakened, distracted enemy was – according to the Doctor’s theory, anyway – better than a strong and focused one. To Romana, it had at first seemed one of those theories of the Doctor’s that would surely lead to getting your head blown off. To be fair, though, it seemed to have served him well after 525 years of space-time travel, so she had been starting to experiment with it.

‘Keep her silent,’ ordered Skagra.

The Kraags moved threateningly closer to Romana.

Skagra moved to a high red stone wall between two enormous pillars. He slid the book inside his tunic and ran his gloved hands over the wall. ‘Logically, the entrance must be here,’ he said. His hand found a small indented panel in the stone. ‘Yes – here.’

He pressed his gloved hand on to the panel. Romana hoped against hope that the builders of Shada had possessed the sense to install a booby trap. Then she remembered the arrogance of the classical Time Lords, even worse than those of her own time, and realised it was impossible they could ever have thought Shada could be threatened in this way, or any other. But still – perhaps, just perhaps…

But no. Romana knew her people too well. With a grinding, crunching noise, the wall heaved itself up, releasing a rush of long-trapped air from beyond.

Behind the wall was a long, long hallway, stretching deeper and deeper, more red stone walls and red light-panels. Indentations were marked above various junctions and turnings, Gallifreyan symbols, numbers and letters.

Right in front of the hallway, immediately before Skagra as the wall slid up, was a large control console with a central circular screen. The instruments on the console were archaic, but they were picked out in gleaming bronze as if they had just been polished. The main panel consisted of a simple-enough keyboard with the seven-hundred and twenty-three letters of the Gallifreyan alphabet in the centre, the thirteen numerical symbols ranged across the top.

Skagra nodded. ‘The index file. One of the best qualities of the Time Lords is their meticulous record-keeping.’

He tapped at the keys. The console and the screen remained inert. Without looking round, he gestured to the Kraags. ‘Bring her,’ he said.

Romana had no choice but to shuffle forward as the Kraags closed in towards her.

‘I don’t see how I can help,’ she said.

Skagra indicated the keyboard. ‘There were no personnel here in Shada. The systems are fully automated. The index file is obviously protected by a bio-morphic shield, which clearly only a Time Lord can operate. You are a Time Lord. You will operate it.’

‘I would rather die,’ said Romana.

Skagra nodded. ‘I only need your bio-morphic information to operate the index file. I can obtain that by removing your hands. Perhaps your eyes. Those pieces would be enough. But if you would prefer to live –’

He gestured her towards the keyboard.

Romana considered. It had been easy enough to say she would rather die, but would she? A voice in her head kept saying The Doctor is alive, the Doctor is alive… She couldn’t give up. There might be other chances. Other ways to stop Skagra.

So Romana ran her fingers lightly over the keys. Again she hoped there would be some catch, some defence mechanism. No. Instantly the circular screen lit up, data screeing across it.

‘Find Salyavin,’ ordered Skagra.

She punched in a request, her fingers shaking slightly – INDEX: SALYAVIN.

The screen chittered back, automatically scrolling down a long, long list of names. Names that struck horror into Romana’s hearts:

RUNDGAR – WAR CRIMES

SEC. 5/JL

SENTENCE TBA

CAB. 45, CHAM. S

SUBJATRIC – MASS MURDER

SEC. 7/PY

SENTENCE TBA

CAB. 43, CHAM. L

SALYAVIN – MIND CRIMES

SEC. 245/XR

SENTENCE TBA

CAB. 9, CHAM. T

SCINTILLA – CONSPIRING WITH CARRIONITES

SEC. 8/HT

SENTENCE TBA

CAB. 21, CHAM. T

‘There!’ cried Skagra, pointing to the screen. ‘Salyavin! Chamber T, Cabinet 9.’

He stared past the console and into the long hallway, noting the identifying marks at each junction. Then he grabbed Romana by the arm and pushed her forward. ‘Come!’ he commanded the Kraags.

Then he paused. ‘No,’ he said slowly. He pointed to one Kraag. ‘You will remain behind and guard the capsule.’

‘Yes, Master,’ the Kraag said and stomped back to take up sentry position outside the TARDIS.

‘I can’t imagine who you think might possibly turn up,’ said Romana.

Skagra tightened his grip on her arm. The little tic over his right temple twitched a couple of times. ‘The Doctor is most definitely dead,’ he said.

‘But, just in case…’ said Romana, indicating the Kraag at the TARDIS.

Skagra thrust her forward. ‘Come. It is time for you to meet Salyavin.’

They began to move down the hallway, Romana first, held tight in Skagra’s grasp, the Kraag Commander and the sphere following.

‘A little more history for you, historian,’ said Skagra. ‘Your Gallifreyan ancestors were caught in an interminable ethical dilemma. Could any crime justify the death penalty? Arguments raged back and forth for centuries. In the meantime, the criminals were placed here, outside the universe, outside time itself, suspended until the Time Lords’ great moral debate –’ he scoffed at these words – ‘was resolved.’

‘Capital punishment was restored,’ said Romana. ‘I know that.’

‘And Shada was deliberately “forgotten”, brushed under the carpet, removed from your history,’ continued Skagra. ‘So the High Council decreed.’

‘The High Council?’ Romana frowned. ‘The mental power required to blank something from the minds of generations of Time Lords would be enormous. I certainly don’t think the High Council would be capable of that. Is their involvement confirmed in all those books you stole?’

‘No,’ said Skagra. ‘But it happened. Shada was forgotten. By implication, the High Council decreed it.’

Romana struggled to understand. ‘Are you absolutely sure—’

‘Here!’ called Skagra suddenly. They had reached a junction with the letter ‘T’ marked above another thick red stone block.

‘Beyond this door, Salyavin,’ said Skagra.

He pressed his hand against a panel and the block began slowly to slide upwards.