Chapter Nine, Part Five: One Flew Over Nurse RatchettMature

The Doctor smiles then, and it was not a pleasant sight, for when his gaze meets the Master’s full on, his entire face seeming to darken and turn down, his green eyes  burning like dark diamonds of spring. “It all fit for me once I completed an eidetic scan of the camera footage from your optical implants. Remember when my biodata from the Matrix was used to imply my presence and subsequent involvement during the murder of my House Tree’s Kithriarch? Well… I suspect something similar has happened here, and it might not have ended with Keflistian. Therefore, the question we should ask is not who is the Terrorist, but who did he see during his murder? If he had your little science fair project in him anywhere, I didn’t find it.” He pauses for effect, and to massage the magnificent knot forming on the back of his thigh. “I rather think the darkness obscuring the answer to that question might be lit somewhat better if we could get that pod down and examine it. What do you think, Master?”

 The Master considers it. Better plan than his, if a trifle too simple. He’s been hoping for a chance to knock some heads, namely because he’s been far too tolerant recently, and having to be so sugary sweet during tense negotiations was grating on his nerves. “Save it. The guards are here,” he murmurs, clawing the air in emphasis to get the men coming into the room to tend the Doctor first. “The Doctor’s fallen and bruised himself- no no, on that stupid chair, can’t you see? Of all the brainless… I want him looked over by someone who knows prenatals.”

The End

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