Author Note:

During the Sound of Drums, the Master told the Doctor that he was resurrected to save Gallifrey, but instead fled in terror after the Emperor Dalek entered the Cruciform. Did that strike anyone else as strange? The Master was always a psychopath, but he was never a coward.

So what really happened by the Cruciform? Why has the Master aways protected his existence - no matter how miserable - at all costs? And what could be so important that he would tell his life-long nemesis such a humiliating lie?

Disclaimer:

The Doctor isn't mine. He must be relieved. ;-)

There's a quote from The Sound of Drums by Russell T. Davies in this chapter and the whole fic is liberally sprinkled with quotes from Lewis Carroll for reasons that will hopefully make sense later.

oOoOoOo

Rhythm of Four

by

Luuuurve

Chapter 1: The White Queen

Towering over the only spaceport on Selachi, the most remote and lifeless planet in the galaxy, the eroded peak was the precise shape of a chess piece - a white queen. Ambassador Adele Gold gazed at it through the window of the spaceport. As the last human left in this Galactic Federation delegation, with the survival of the Selachi race at stake, and time running out, for their diplomatic shuttle was already maneuvering in the sky overhead for landing, she knew it was time for her next move.

"We cannot replace Selachi's oceans, Ambassador Proxima," she said, turning to the head of their delegation. "The supernova will only vapourise them again if we do, and oxygen is already at dangerously high levels. The Selachi wasted our nanotechnology by making useless trinkets. Please forgive my bluntness, but if the Galactic Federation does not move the Selachi to a healthy planet with oceans, the entire race will go extinct."

Ambassador Proxima blinked his vast eye. Like all Alpha Centaurians, he was a hermaphroditic land octopus with a single blue eye instead of a face, and a tendency to go hysterical at the slightest provocation. He wasn't hysterical now, but the prominent veins on his round hairless green head were throbbing. "Replacing the oceans is the Galactic Federation's only option, Ambassador Gold. I wouldn't expect a female to understand," he said. Ironically, his voice was high-pitched and unmistakably female. He waved his top two arms to emphasise what he was saying, while the bottom four fiddled nervously with his yellow cloak. "The Galactic Federation will never approve the relocation of the Selachi to another planet. There isn't a single uninhabited planet with a suitable mixture of sea and land in this galaxy. One race will be forced to share and that would be untenable." His arms waved in agitation. "I am certain the Selachi will not do well on my home world."

Adele shook her head. "With respect, Ambassador, I disagree." She kept her face neutral, fighting the urge to smile at the hexapod's cowardice. "I think the Selachi would do rather too well on your home planet. Or on Earth, for that matter-"

The sibilant whisper of Ambassador Xerlyli cut her off. "This discussion is pointless. The oceans must be replaced for the Selachi refuse to leave their home planet. My people will support them in this matter, for we lost our home planet many thousands of years ago." His scaly green Ice Warrior face was impassive. But the way he folded his arms, revealing the sonic weapon attached to one claw-like hand, was eloquent.

Adele's heart sank. Ice Warriors rejected violence, except in self-defence. But their definition of self-defence varied. Mere disagreement was sufficient, and after three days of debate, the tempers of all three of the delegates were frayed.

She did not want a gun battle. The Selachi needed the Galactic Federation's help, not their squabbling. Besides, she wasn't armed. Her human colleague, Ambassador Lloyd Skinner, had carried a laser pistol. But he had apparently given up in disgust and teleported off the planet a few hours earlier, without so much as saying goodbye. He hadn't replied to any of the increasingly furious messages she had sent him from her wrist computer. Embarrassment had stopped her from explaining his disappearance to the other delegates.

Proxima quivered at the sight of the Ice Warrior's sonic weapon, and his voice became even shriller. "Alpha Centauri will, of course, reject moving the Selachi and support continued food aid, Ambassador Xerlyli. The Galactic Federation-"

"-is doomed! Planet after planet will fall. Sixteen trillion will die!" An unfamiliar voice boomed from behind the delegates. Then it rose into a spine-chilling peal of maniacal laughter.

Proxima shrieked, and the three delegates whirled around to face the speaker.

He was walking towards them across the spaceport; a tall and filthy scarecrow of a man, wearing a tattered dark suit. His hair and beard were long and matted, and his too-wide grin was manic. His fingers drummed on every available surface as he approached. On abandoned chairs and tables. On walls. Four beats, then a pause, and then another four beats. A ceaseless and maddening rhythm of four. He was chewing gum to the same rhythm.

"What do you know of this, human? Speak!" Xerlyli hissed, brandishing his sonic weapon at man, who stopped a few metres away with a contemptuous smirk.

But Adele stepped between them. "Ambassador Xerlyli. I must apologise. This human doesn't know what he's saying."

Xerlyli narrowed his eyes and did not lower his weapon. "How so?"

Adele watched the man take the wad of chewing gum out of his mouth, stick it on the window, and sneer at them as if daring them to arrest him for littering. "He's clearly a Wanderer," she said. "A homeless human who survives by hitching rides from spaceport to spaceport." She lowered her voice so only her fellow delegates could hear her words and the pity in her voice. "The poor fellow is obviously insane. We should try to help him."

Unfortunately, the supposed Wanderer had very good hearing. "You think I'm human? Fools!" he roared, making Proxima shriek again. "I am a Time Lord. The Time Lord Victorious! I looked into the Untempered Schism and the Time Vortex chose ME. The fate of the entire universe pivots around my actions. Time and space are mine to command." He glared at Adele and his burning eyes all but pinned her to the wall. "Do not DARE pity me!"

"The Time Lords are extinct," Xerlyli hissed, his claw-like fingers tightening on his sonic weapon. "They perished fighting the Daleks in the Last Great Time War."

"I survived. I always survive," the said the self-proclaimed Time Lord. Now his fingers were drumming on his chest. He muttered a mad counterpoint to their rhythm. "Never die, never die, never die, never die."

Adele tore her eyes away from him and tapped her wrist computer. The entry records for the spaceport appeared. On such an inhospitable planet, the list was very short and she was able to see the most likely name immediately. "Mr … Eos Heartsmet?" she asked.

The mad man turned in her direction. "That is not my name. Call me the Master," he said, and his grin widened. His teeth were very white and straight in his grimy face, and his eyes burned.

Adele rechecked her computer. "Master?" she said. "But you entered Selachi under the name of Eos Heartsmet, a year ago, with your wife Tithonus."

"Lucy," the Master corrected her. "Her name is Lucy." He flung his hands skywards. "How she nags at me! She's as bad as the drums!"

"The drums?" asked Xerlyli.

"The endless drumming in my head!" ranted the Master, beating the rhythm of four on his thighs. "The call to war! I killed Lord President Rassilon for infecting me with it." His hands balled into fists. "But the drumming didn't stop. Still, it comes closer and closer. Will I ever be free?" His last words were full of despair. Abruptly, he dropped his face into his hands.

Adele bit her lip when she heard his dry sobbing above the continuous soft whimper of terror coming from Proxima. She was caught between pity, disgust and fear.

Then the Master spoke again, his voice muffled by his hands. "My people will rise again. Gallifrey will rise. Once there's a new Gallifrey in the heavens, maybe then it stops. The drumming. The never-ending drumbeat."

Adele saw Xerlyli's deep-set black eyes glance her way. "Where is Ambassador Skinner? He trained in Time Lord history. Perhaps he understands this drumming?"

"I've messaged him but he hasn't replied," Adele was forced to admit. "I think he may have teleported back to Earth."

"No, he's dead." The Master lifted his head with a sudden fiendish grin. "If he wandered off by himself on Selachi, he'll be eaten by now. I bet he was delicious."

"Eaten?" Proxima squeaked.

The Master threw his head back and laughed. Then he opened his arms. "Can't you see what's happening here? Of course you can't, you poor, blind insects," he said, with a mocking shake of his head. "We stand at the tipping point. The single most important Moment in time since the universe began and it is mine alone. Mine since I looked into the Untempered Schism and it chose me. Sixteen trillion will die. The greatest massacre in the history of history itself begins now." His eyes blazed and a cruel smile spread across his lips as he gazed at Xerlyli. "RIGHT now." In a flash of movement, he reached into his torn jacket and aimed out a long silver and gold device at the Ice Warrior.

Alarmed, Xerlyli aimed his sonic weapon but it was too late. The tip of the Master's device glowed red. A laser beam stabbed out and speared through Xerlyli's thick chest armour as if it were paper. The Ice Warrior only had time to groan before he sagged down dead to the floor.

Proxima screamed, a sound as chilling as fingernails down a blackboard.

"Oh, do shut up," said the Master. Casually, he fired his weapon at the hexapod's eye and the scream cut off. Gasping in horror, Adele half-turned to catch the gelatinous dead weight that Proxima had become.

"A laser screwdriver will always trump a sonic weapon," said the Master, laughing and sending Xerlyli's weapon skidding across the floor with a single kick. "I don't know why anyone bothers with sonic." Then his eyes focused on Adele.

She lowered Proxima's body to the ground. Outside, there was a rasp of gravel, and the whine of the shuttle's engines started to fade. It had landed. But she knew it only held a pilot. No troops, and no chance of rescue from this mad Time Lord.

So she stood up and faced the Master, standing tall, proud and calm with her shoulders back. She was going to be killed, and perhaps it was her fault. She had told Xerlyli the Master was harmless and lost their only chance of fighting back.

But death didn't come immediately. Though the Master still aimed his laser screwdriver at her chest, he had put his head on one side and was smiling at her in a way that seemed affectionate.

"Waiting for death, child? You humans really are amazing creatures. I actually regret killing so many of you." Some of the madness crept back into his smile. "No, I don't. It was fun at the time." He sighed. "I was going to start an empire with the humans from the end of the universe. The new Time Lord Empire lasting a hundred trillion years. But the Doctor prevented me. Such a pity!"

"The Doctor?" asked Adele. "Doctor Who?"

The Master burst out laughing. "Excellent question," he said. Then he started moving slowly towards her.

It was all Adele could do not to back away.

"I'm not always bad tempered, you know," he said, indicating the smoking corpses at their feet. "Pat me on the head and see how pleased I'll be!"

Adele wasn't the least bit tempted to pat him on the head. "Why do you think the Galactic Federation will fall?" she asked.

The Master tapped the side of his head with a rhythm of four. "The drums tell me. I see the Moment in my head. All that leads to it, and all that comes of it." His voice softened. "Go on! Pat me on the head." When Adele didn't move, he reached out and captured one of her hands. "Listen to the drums," he said, pressing it to his temple.

As she touched his head, the universe disappeared.

She was falling into a deep black pit made of screams and explosive, thunderous drumming. Before her eyes, she saw every inhabited world of the Galactic Federation fall. Saw fire consume planet Selachi with a rhythm of four and rip it asunder. Saw trillions of sentient beings of all races backing away as a mysterious menace attacked without warning on every inhabited planet at once. There was no one to save them. No way of fighting back. Blood of many colours stained the sand, and still the menace advanced, savagely feasting on those still alive and hungry enough to kill until there were no victims left.

Then light and the universe returned. She was curled in a foetal position on the floor of the tiny spaceport and the Master was bending over her, still holding her hand.

She no longer cared about his laser screwdriver, or her life. She no longer cared about anything but preventing the horrors still fresh in her mind. Snatching her hand back, and not even sparing the Master a glance, she struggled to her feet and sprinted past him to towards her shuttle. She was through the spaceport doors, up the gangplank and shouting orders to the pilot in seconds.

The Master watched the gangplank rise and the shuttle take off into the blue sky. "Some diplomat she is," he said aloud to no one in particular. "Not even a thank you." He froze, as if listening to a voice only he could hear. "Lucy? Sweetheart, what is it this time?" There was a pause while he listened. "You want me to…?" His voice rose in frustration. "All right, all right. I'll do it. Don't nag me."

He stormed off, aiming petulant kicks at the bodies in passing. "Why am I always such a martyr to women?" he asked the empty spaceport, as he drummed the rhythm of four.

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Author Note:

Please review!

Many thanks to ooxc for the beta read! :-)