Ending of the Hours (Book Four of the Bad Wolf Chronicles)

The End of Time Part 2

"Now, then, I've got a planet to run," the Master said as he rubbed his hands together, looking around the study. The Doctor, bound and gagged upright to a trolley, looked past the Master to see Jessie had been left in a bit of a better state, merely bound to another chair, but she looked far worse than before. Wilf was the same as her, tied to a chair. "Is everybody ready?"

Naismith-Master answered first. "Six billion, seven hundred and twenty seven million, nine hundred and forty nine thousand three hundred and thirty eight versions of us awaiting orders."

"This is Washington," the President-Master spoke. "As President of the United States, I can transfer all the United Nations protocols to you immediately, putting you in charge of all the Earth's defenses."

The General-Master from UNIT came next. "UNIT HQ, Geneva reporting. all under your command, sir."

A Chinese-Master was next. "And this is the Central Military Commission here in Beijing, sir, with over two point five million soldiers, sir. Present arms!"

The Master smiled as the Chinese military snapped to attention. "Enough soldiers and weapons to turn this planet into a warship." He frowned, hearing the Doctor say something, muffled by his gag. "Nothing to say, Doctor? What's that?" He leaned in close, teasing. "Pardon? Sorry?"

"You let him go, you swine," Wilf sneered. "If not him, then her." He jerked his head at Jessie, whose head was lolling.

"Oh, your dad's still kicking up a fuss," the Master commented.

"Yeah? Well, I'd be proud if I was," Wilf huffed, kicking his feet a little.

The Master frowned when a phone trill cut through the silence. "But . . . that's a mobile."

"Yeah, it's mine," Wilf nodded. "Let me turn it off."

"No, no, no, no, no," the Master shook his head. "I don't think you understand. Everybody on this planet is me. And I'm not phoning you . . . so who the hell is that?"

"It's nobody," Wilf pleaded. "I tell you, it's nothing. It's probably one of them ring-back calls."

The Master went through his pockets, and pulled out a revolver. "Ooo, and look at this," he remarked. "Good man!" He threw it away and pulled out a phone, and looked at the Caller ID. "Donna," he sneered, and Jessie perked up. "Who's Donna?"

"She's no one," Wilf said quickly. "Just leave it!"

But the Master hit answer. "Gramps, don't hang up," Donna's voice begged. "You've got to help me! I ran out, but everyone was changing."

"Who is she?" the Master hissed. "Why didn't she change?"

"Gramps, I can't hear you!"

"Well, I'm thinking it might be something the Doctor and the Bad Wolf did," Wilf shrugged. "This Metacrisis."

"Oh, he loves playing with Earth girls," the Master cringed. "Ugh!"

"Are you there?" Donna asked.

The Master turned to the screen. "Find her," he ordered. "Trace the call."

"Trace the call," Naismith-Master ordered.

"Are you still there?" Donna asked. "Can you hear me?"

"Say goodbye to the freak, Granddad," the Master sneered.

"Donna, get out of there!" Wilf shouted. "Just get out of there! I'm telling you, run!"

"She's on Wessex Lane, Chiswick," Naismith-Master announced. "Open the phone lines. Everyone on Wessex Lane, Red alert."