After weaving through enough turns and passing enough two- and three-way intersections to confuse someone with an eidetic memory the Doctor pushed through a door and into storeroom seven. Just then a rising and falling schwirr schwirr sound echoed through the TARDIS. As experienced time travellers both the Doctor and Romana recognized the sound as the noise a TARDIS makes when materializing. "We're landing," Romana noted needlessly as they stepped up to the railing to look down into the room.

"It'll wait," the Doctor chanted. "Whoa!" he moaned as he finally let his eyes tell his brain what they were seeing.

"What is it? How did it get here?" Romana queried.

They looked down, left, right, and up at a translucent cube nearly ten meters across. The room had space for much more bulk, but the Doctor hadn't had anything in this place for centuries and both time lords gawked at the unaccustomed sight. It seemed to emit a hum at several frequencies, and lights of many colors shimmered in almost regular patterns across the cube's six surfaces.

"We might learn more if we find out where it came from," the Doctor suggested blandly.

Without replying, Romana turned and left the room, following the unmarked path back to the control room. The Doctor stared at the cube for several more seconds before he followed her.

The white control room described earlier appeared on half the screen. The sound of footsteps from behind the barrier increased in volume until a body moved into place in front of the console. It set a pair of speakers beside the monitor and plugged them into a jack at the bottom of the computer block receptacles. The speakers immediately began to emit the previously heard sounds of TARDIS machinery. The numbers on the other half of the monitor had ceased to move, and the person observing this made an audible conclusion about it.

"They must have paused their flight. Of course." The voice brightened with the pleasure of a puzzle solved. "If the TARDIS' walls interrupted the cube's path it would have materialized inside it assuming it found adequate space. That would have set off the unauthorized entry alarm and both of them would have left to investigate."

A sudden tenseness in the body indicated the fright of unexpected interference. "But he's bound to figure out it was headed here, and then he'll likely come to see what's up." The voice paused as the brain driving it struggled with the implications of such an appearance. "Something will have to be done to stop this," the voice concluded. The body attached to the voice shivered as it sensed an unexpected chill.

Romana tripped lightly into the control room and circled halfway around the console to stop at a particular keyboard. As the Doctor entered the room she began to type deftly. The Doctor stepped to another part of the console and flipped a switch that put a duplicate of her monitor on the scanner screen. He watched as she patched the output of the time flux monitor recording program to the input of a vector calculating program.

"Trying to figure out where it came from?" the Doctor asked.

Romana looked up, surprised. As she did she noted the scanner display. "That's an invasion of privacy!" she accused hotly. She cooled quickly. "Yes. That's our best hope for figuring out what to do with that cube."

She went back to her keyboard, passing the results of the vector calculations into an astral map program. The Doctor, meanwhile, had been doing mental math on the numbers he'd seen.

"I don't know where it came from," he concluded, "but I can tell you where it was going."

"Where?"

"Ask that program to give you the coordinates of that cube had it travelled another 32 million light-years."

Romana complied, but she did the same mental calculations the Doctor had and arrived at the same conclusion he had about the same time the program displayed the results of its labor. "Wouldn't that break the policy of non-intervention?"

"That depends on where it came from and what it is," the Doctor replied. "But the Lord President probably ought to make sure that things were done correctly."

"I agree. Who's going to tell him?"

"He already knows," the Doctor winked.

Romana's jaw dropped as the Doctor's meaning struck her in the face. "You mean the White Guardian -- the High Council -- sent me out with the Lord President and told me only that I would be assisting a renegade? What gall!"

"You'll have to admit that your tasks would have been much harder had you known that. The deference that knowledge would have invoked in you would have prevented you from acting in ways that, several times, saved our lives."

"You've already regenerated!"

"Three times, to be exact."

For complicated legal purposes, a Time Lord's age is given according to a rather complex formula. For that reason a Time Lord who gives his or her age as 835 may, several years later -- relative to the Time Lord's life -- give that age as 624. Romana's formal age of 123 is quite close to her actual age at this time in her life, but that is a rather rare occurance.

Since Time Lords have the biological capacity to generate new bodies on the death of the old one they were forced to develop social conventions to make legal age calculations fair to newly-regenerated individuals. A number of other customs have evolved based on this ability. For example, Time Lords are expected to marry and raise families during the life of their first body. This is not a strictly enforced more. Romana, for example, delayed marriage to help the Doctor with the White Guardian's key to time assignment. An accident associated with that task forced her to regenerate. For this reason she would not be looked down on for marrying during her second regeneration.

A far more strictly enforced rule prevents any Time Lord in his or her first body from taking any political office. This is how Romana knew that the Doctor, who qualified for the office of Lord President, had to have regenerated at least once.

Time Lords frequently live for a total of nearly 2000 years. That means each regeneration (a Time Lord is capable of 13) lasts, barring accidents, for about 150 years. Romana's accident cut her first regeneration short after 118 years. Her age, at that point, would have been given as 1180. A Time Lord's formal age increases by ten times the actual age. An additional 100 years is added to this for each regeneration. Thus Romana was, at this time, 2.3 years into the life of her second body. The Doctor's formal age of 727 meant he had lived 32.7 years in his fourth body.

The TARDIS that arrived in landing bay 33B caused a lot of trouble for the on-duty guards. They had received no warning of its approach, its identification codes triggered a number of complex high-security procedures, and Gallifrey's security chief, Castellan Kelner, vented his unhappiness on the guards who, following procedure, brought him the news of its arrival.

"He'll be furious when he finds out! He'll demand that the High Council reconsider its decision. And even if they decide against him, the process will delay the election!" Kelner paused to consider what might be the wisest course. "Tell no one who doesn't already know about this!" he ordered. "And if you can avoid it, don't tell the Doctor that he is no longer Lord President."

The guards lifted their wrist communicators to convey this message to their colleagues. Not far from the landing bay two guards conferred with the Doctor while Romana wandered off in the direction of the security monitoring bay. "They say you've not responded to several summons," one offered.

"How were the summons sent?" the Doctor demanded.

"By V-mail. The council knew you might be in just about any time zone. By posting the message through the Vortex they knew your TARDIS could receive and record it wherever it was."

"Oh, that." The Doctor demonstrated his disdain with a curl-flipping tilt of his head and a backhanded gesture. "I installed a screening program to automatically recycle all V-mail messages except those originating from certain addresses."

"And your list didn't include the High Council?" The guard's incredulity lifted this question through the conversation.

"If their message had been urgent or particularly important they would have sent it by some more reliable means."

"Of course," the guard agreed. "But since the Sontaran invasion there have been no serious threats to Gallifrey." A tone from the guard's wrist communicator interrupted this last sentence.

"Immediately implement security procedure 457-F," the remote voice commanded. "I repeat, immediately..."

"Sontaran invasion?" the Doctor asked as the message continued.

Even as the guard in the Castellan's operations center repeated the command, the guard that had not been speaking lifted a hand-held device from her belt and entered the code that had been given.

"Several years ago. They were soundly defeated. Anyway," the other guard went on, "the council voted that since the Lord President could not be reached he could no longer fill the office. The position has been vacated and new..."

"Security procedure 457-F requires that we not discuss the current political situation with anyone," the other guard interrupted.

The first guard opened his mouth to try to amend for what had instantly become a breach of security. "I shall tell no one that I know anything about this," the Doctor promised, with an understanding grin. The relief on the guard's face expressed more gratitude than a hundred words could have conveyed.

Romana sat down in a couch behind the security monitoring bay's force field. "How are things with you these days, Rodan," she smiled mildly.

Rodan looked up from her console. She knew of the Doctor's arrival, having generated the initial notice. She also knew of Kelner's gag order. She didn't relish a conversation with an academy days friend under the circumstances. "As good as can be expected," she answered without conviction.

Romana leaned back and spoke in a condescending tone that vented the emotional stress of all the Doctor's condescending comments over the years of their association linked to the hours-old revelation about his exalted political status. "I suppose I'd be just as unenthusiastic about such a boring job." She stressed the word "boring" with a slow head shaking.

Rodan failed to ignore her. She pretended to be absorbed in the totally blank monitoring console. She consulted her electronic procedure manual and "learned" that no new security procedures had been implemented since the year after the Sontaran invasion. She even considered making a phone call to Leela (a descendant of the human race who began life as a primitive warrior). Only security procedure 457-F prevented her from doing this. Unfortunately the procedure also prevented Time Lords at her level from even revealing that the precaution was in effect. She finally turned to face Romana.

"What brings you here?" She hoped this would be a safe starting point for their conversation.

"An investigation for the Lord President," Romana replied, trying to keep the haughtiness out of her voice.

"I see," Rodan said uneasily, knowing that anything else would risk violating 457-F.

"I thought maybe we could talk over old times. Maybe you could catch me up on the Gallifreyan social scene. When do you get off?"

"I came on duty just over an hour ago. I'll be here a while."

Romana glanced at the still empty console. "How's Leela doing?"

"You know Leela?" Rodan asked, glad for the safe topic.

"Only from the Doctor's stories." Romana watched her friend for signs of discomfort over her familiar reference to the Lord President but couldn't read that over the multitude of other emotions battling for control of Rodan's features.

"She's a busy mother -- and a good one." A smile betrayed Rodan's recollection of her first encounters with the Doctor's former companion. "Though a bit unorthodox," she added.

"Anyone who's spent much time with the Doctor is bound to do things in unorthodox ways," Romana philosophized.

The references to Leela's motherhood awakened in Rodan a solution to her dilemma. "I know who you should go see!" she blurted.

The Doctor walked meekly into Cardinal Borusa's office. He glanced briefly but without recognition at the display of ancient keys on the wall. "I have a rather delicate matter to discuss with you," he began.

"And I with you," Borusa countered. "What brings you to Gallifrey?"

"An odd thing materialized in the TARDIS over 30 million light years from here. We were able to calculate that it was headed in this direction. All indications are that someone here intended to bring it. We need to find out who did it so we can return the object to them. I found Castellan Kelner most uncooperative."

"I can imagine that," the Cardinal replied. "He's too busy contending with me for the office of Lord President."

"So that's why he put a gag order on his guards. They'd already told me when he got the order out so, to protect them, I need to be sure he doesn't know that I already know about the election."

"But now that you've come to me he's bound to know that you know," Borusa continued in the Doctor's confusing string of identical verbs. "I must say, you seem very undisturbed over the issue."

"Well," the Doctor shrugged, "it's a big weight off my shoulders. I only took the office because...." The Doctor brought his hand to his forehead and ran his fingers through his hair. "You know," he finally concluded, "I'm not really sure why I took the office. I had a very good reason at the time."

"I'm sure you did," Borusa concurred knowingly. "But back to this..." the Cardinal paused to find a suitably dignified noun, "object you say materialized in your TARDIS. What is it?"

"That's a good question. If I knew what it was I'd have a much easier time locating who was moving it here. To look at it you'd say it was there, but it wasn't there. Neither Romana nor I have made any sense of it whatsoever."

"Speaking of Romana, I understand you've completed the White Guardian's assignment," Borusa interrupted.

"Well, sort of," the Doctor answered. "Actually, the Black Guardian got involved and things got rather complex. In the end, I had to scatter the key across the galaxy again."

"That's not so much what I had in mind," the Cardinal corrected. "Romana has other responsibilities here on Gallifrey and now that your task is over she should return. You have her here, I presume."

"She went out visiting friends. It's up to her. If she wants to stay here she can."

"Maybe I should talk to her," Borusa concluded.

Romana held her hand against the shiny metal pad on the wall next to the door to which the directory had guided her. An almost inaudible, mid-range tone sounded in the room behind the door. A woman in a long yellow gown reached casually across the panel in front of her to bump a control which opened the door. She didn't even look up until her ears told her that whoever had requested entrance hadn't moved from the doorway.

"So, you're back among the living, Romana," she said.

"Huh?" Romana queried dumbly. She looked down at herself as if that would help. It did. "Oh. Yes, quite," she answered.

"Do come on in so a body can close the door," the woman requested.

Romana did this reluctantly. "Loralar," she began, "I came only at the suggestion of Rodan. I sensed she was keeping something from me and sent me to you as someone who could tell me what she couldn't."

Loralar looked up again. "What do you want to know? And why on earth have you regenerated? You're not due for that for another 30 or 40 years. And your form. I wouldn't have expected anything at all like this," she waved to indicate Romana's body.

Romana decided to reply as the only means of getting what she wanted from Loralar. "There was an accident asociated with the last segment of the Key to Time," she explained. "We had to use the uncompleted key to put someone in a time loop so they wouldn't destroy the last segment until we found it. To do that we had to use a fabricated replacement for the last segment. The inaccuracies of the fabricated segment apparently caused the key to give off massive doses of gamma radiation."

Romana paused and took the chair that hadn't been offered to her; Loralar did not object. "We finally discovered that the last segment was disguised as a local princess. Her link to the fabricated segment which caused me to regenerate apparently caused me to take her form. The Doctor says I look just like her. It's hard for me to tell from a mirror image."

"The Doctor, huh?" Loralar mused. "So that's who they sent off to collect the key." Her voice changed from one of musing to one of discovery. "And why not! They've frequently sent him to do things when they wanted to be able to deny involvement."

"It was mention of the Doctor that made Rodan suddenly quiet," Romana revealed.

Loralar put her thumb to her lips as she considered this data. "Probably was embarrassed to tell you the bad news."

"What bad news?"

"That the Doctor has lost his position."

Puzzlment took temporary residence on Romana's face, leaving when she recalled the Doctor's recent revelation."You mean as Lord President. Somehow I don't think he'll mind."

"You don't think he'll mind!" The fact that Loralar's voice rose and then fell in pitch on the last word showed she found the idea quite unlikely.

"I didn't even know he was Lord President until this morning," Romana inserted. "He can be quite flippant about artificially serious matters. I've learned that when he quits being flippant things are genuinely wrong." Recollections of her experiences as the Doctor's assistant tilted her head back slightly. "That knowledge has saved my life more than once." A sudden question pushed her head immediately upright again. "Why has he lost his position?"

"The High Council could never find him and there are certain matters that require the Lord President's presence for the Council to act. They were forced to declare him unfit to fill the office so they could hold new elections. The elections are set for early next month."1

A pause ensued while both time ladies considered their newly aquired knowledge. "Maybe he'll decide to settle here and can be reinstated." Loralar suggested.

"I doubt that," Romana winked knowingly.

"I think I know why Rodan was so secretive," Loralar's voice brightened.

"Why?"

"She's under the Castellan's supervision. I presume you were met by guards."

"Yes," Romana noted, failing to comprehend.

"They too are directly responsible to the Castellan. Kelner has offered himself as a candidate for Lord President. He's probably issued a gag order hoping the Doctor won't hear about this. It could complicate matters, and any complication or delay reduces Kelner's chances of winning the election. I favor Cardinal Borusa, myself."

Romana nodded as if the complexities of Gallifreyan politics made sense.

"So, you have a healthy and vibrantly new regeneration," Loralar noted needlessly. Romana's face revealed that she did not understand. "I think Cordar would find this new persona considerably more attractive." This comment added to the quizzical look on Romana's face. Loralar bungled on. "You really ought to take time out now for a family." As this last sentence passed the look on Romana's face changed rapidly from questioning to anger.

"You think... He told you... Of all the pompous, arrogant..." Romana could not find a sufficiently derogatory name for Loralar's son. She stood and backed agressively toward the door. "He chased me around for nearly a year. I finally told him to leave me alone. He kept on bugging me. I took the assignment with the Doctor partly to get away from him." She glared at Loralar with her hand on the wall pad as she waited for the door to open. "No, thank you," she volleyed as she exited decisively.

1A Gallifreyan month is between twelve and thirteen days long. Months are divided into two weeks. Thus most weeks are six days long, with an occasional seven-day week to keep the weeks sychronized with the largest moon by which months are calculated.

A ceremonially dressed time lord entered Cardinal Borusa's room at his beconing. "Chancellor Hedin," the Cardinal greeted.

"I'll not be a party to any campaign strategies you may have in mind," Hedin warned.

"What I called you in to discuss has nothing significant to do with the election," Borusa countered. "I simply need a highly placed time lord in whom I can confide and who has the resources to track some events."

"I will not spy on a potential opponent for you," Hedin cautioned.

"I'm wanting you to keep track of the Doctor," the Cardinal revealed.

"The most eligible opponent of them all, considering his technical incumbency."

"Actually, he already knows he's been deposed and he seems glad of it."

"How'd he find out? Where is he?" Hedin's manner revealed that Borusa had succeeded in engaging his interest in the matter.

"He's right here on Gallifrey. Which is exactly the issue I want your help with."

Hedin took a seat, indicating his willingness to hear his host out.

"He claims to have intercepted something bound for Gallifrey," Borusa continued. "He's alleging that someone here had something to do with it. From his description it seems to be the product of technology of which, in this galaxy, only we are capable.

"I suspect that he's not telling us everything. Recently bloodshed has accompanied his every visit to Gallifrey. I know the public credits him with neutralizing the Sontaran's attempt to invade us, but I'm convinced that the operation would have worked better if he'd simply confided in us.

"Whatever is happening, however, containing it will make everthing here easier. If it is an outside threat with which the Doctor is trying to gain more popular support, we might be able to shortcircuit both the threat and his self-aggrandizement by learning what's happening as soon as possible. If he should be right and someone on Gallifrey has been engaging in unauthorized meddling, the politics of the whole situation can be simplified if we can keep the Doctor out of the investigation."

Chancellor Hedin stood as Borusa concluded his explanations. "I will put all current projects on hold and attend to this," he promised.

The Doctor stopped at the Castellan's office on his way to the TARDIS. "Do you happen to have any messages for me?" he asked."

"Were you expecting any? From anyone in particular?" Kelner queried.

"Well," the Doctor shrugged, "Maybe you've heard from Romana."

"She left the landing bay and I have heard nothing of her whereabouts since then."

"I see," the Doctor noted. "Perhaps she's decided to stay here. I wouldn't blame her."

"Actually, Doctor," Kelner confided, "she has been called to Cardinal Borusa's office. But I have some information regarding your earlier queries."

"Turned helpful suddenly?"

"The connection only just occurred to me."

"But you did order your guards to keep silent about the election," the Doctor noted.

"A standard security precaution," the Castellan defended himself.

"Taken by a candidate," the Doctor clarified.

"You can attribute my present willingness to help to my desire for higher office if you wish. But if I give it disinterestedly or not, you still get the help."

"Compelling logic, Kelner," the Doctor admitted. "So what connection did you just make?"

"I am about to reveal highly sensitive information. You must be very careful how you use it."

"Under the current political situation I'm sure many things are highly sensitive."

"This information was classified security level seven before you became Lord President," the Castellan revealed.

The Doctor indicated, by his silence, that he was ready to listen.

"The scientific wing has a small taskforce engaged in a thorough survey of the galaxy, with special attention to planets that could support life as we understand it. They are nearing the end of the project. It occurred to me that they recently started work in the part of the galaxy near where this 'object' you've described entered your TARDIS.

"Such scientific procedures are a little beyond my understanding, so I wouldn't know why such a survey would generate an object of the sort you described bound for Gallifrey, but it is just possible there might be a connection. I could put you in touch with the project director."

"I hear you summoned me," Romana noted as she entered Borusa's office.

The cardinal motioned toward a seat and followed his guest in sitting down. "Your work for the White Guardian has been completed, the Doctor informs me."

"A couple of years ago, actually," Romana agreed.

"When the High Council asked you to take this assignment we understood that you would return to Gallifrey when you were done and resume your interrupted life. Have you given any thought to this?"

"Did Loralar put you up to this?" Romana accused rather hotly.

"Loralar? I was reminded of the issue when the Doctor came to ask my assistance."

"Just about everyone I've met since I returned has harrassed me about staying. You'd think they were afraid I was about to throw my life away or something."

"The High Council did consider the danger of sending a young and impressionable time lord with the Doctor. We had no wish to add to the number of wandering and renegade members of our race." the Cardinal leaned forward against his desk.

"The Doctor is a bad influence?"

"We can usually trust the Doctor to act sensibly and with a high regard for the responsibilities that attend to the powers of our race. But we cannot be sure that everyone who leaves Time Lord society will act as responsibly. The Master has accumulated an appalling record of interference and atrocities across many galaxies. Another Time Lord who assisted the war lords of the Milky Way galaxy died at their hands after being sentenced by the High Council for despicable crimes. And there are other Time Lords of whom we have lost track but who have the power to wreak destruction and havoc should they decide to use that power to selfish purposes."

"You don't trust me," Romana interpreted.

"We don't trust ourselves," Borusa clarified. "Living outside the citadel is a much more suitable approach for a Time Lord who has grown tired of our society. The Doctor's son leads a sizeable band of people who didn't feel comfortable in our society."

"The Doctor's son?"

"Perhaps he should be the one to tell you about that," Borusa decided aloud. "My current concern is that you have an opportunity to decide what you want to do away from the Doctor's influence. He may pretend that losing the presidency doesn't bother him, and I'm sure he has many compelling reasons to give it up, but it's bound to have an emotional impact on him, and he may cling to anything familiar while he adjusts."

"Including me," Romana voiced Borusa's implications.

"Better to make your decision where there's less chance of interference."

"Well, I'm not interested in leaving Time Lord society. But I find the Doctor's beneficent philosophy compelling. At any rate, I can't make such a decision in just a few hours, or even a day." Romana turned in her chair so as not to face the Cardinal directly.

Borusa read the voiceless communication and stood. "I will gladly help you find a place in the citadel if you choose to stay here," he offered.

"Thank you." Romana acknowledged the courtesy by bowing her head as she stood.

"You have heard the Doctor's description. I am quite sure that none of us is responsible for this, but I wanted to let you hear. The apparent origin of this object in the portion of the galaxy we are currently surveying warrants, I believe, our attention." Taskforce leader Fostil paused to survey his audience for reactions.

A rookie near the back of the audience twitched uncomfortably, but Fostil didn't notice. The Doctor did, however.

"I take it from your silence that no one on this project can shed any light on the events the Doctor has described," the leader continued.

An older time lord near the front stood. Fostil recognized him.

"I agree with you, Fostil, that the appearance of the object in the area we are currently surveying should be investigated. I move that we appoint someone from the taskforce to assist the Doctor in learning more about it."

Murmurs of assent skittered about the gathered scientists. The rookie near the rear stood. "I would like to volunteer to join the Doctor," he said when recognized. "As a rookie my contribution to the project is quite minor and my absence would do less to hinder the work than that of any other taskforce member."

"I appreciate your offer, Cordar," Fostil said. "In that case I suggest the rest of you return to your work. Cordar and I will make the final arrangements with the Doctor."

As the scientists left the room Fostil led Cordar and the Doctor to a conference room adjacent to his office and laboratory.

"More than five years ago, Doctor," he began when all three had been seated, "a promising young scientist received an assignment to assist you in the completion of a task for the White Guardian. The understanding accompanying that assignment was that she would return to her duties here as soon as you had completed the mission."

"It was a long task," the Doctor interrupted. "We finished about two years ago. Anyway, Romana is here now and can stay if she chooses."

"Romana?"

"Well, I couldn't be saying 'Romanadvoratrelundar' when I needed to warn her of imminent danger, so I shortened it."

"Ah, yes. But my point is that I need assurances that Cordar will return to his position with the taskforce in a much more timely manner."

"About that 'understanding'," the Doctor corrected. "I was not a party to any of the arrangements that brought Romana along. The White Guardian more or less forced me to take the assignment and when I got back to the TARDIS she was there, acting as if she knew more than I did."

"Whatever, Doctor, do I have your assurance that Cordar will return here as soon as your investigation has made any significant progress?"

"As long as that's what he wants," the Doctor replied.

Fostil turned to Cordar. "You must understand that while you will be with the Doctor on this investigation and will consider him your boss, you still work for the taskforce and your primary responsibility will be to me."

"Of course," Cordar nodded with excessive obesciance.

Romana again entered Rodan's security station. "Has Kelner rescinded his gag order?" she asked as she took a place on the sofa.

"What?" Rodan looked up.

"His security directive which prevented you from talking to me about the Doctor earlier."

"I don't know, let me check." Rodan made a few deft strokes at a nearby keyboard, glanced at a blank monitor, and looked back at Romana. "He apparently has."

"It's moot now, anyway. Cardinal Borusa told the Doctor everything."

"Of course," Rodan understood. "Now I suppose we can have that chat we couldn't have earlier."

"I suppose," Romana demurred. "But I came to get your slant on something."

"On what?"

"Cardinal Borusa... several people actually... have urged me to leave the Doctor and return to life in the Citadel. Borusa said I should make the decision away from the Doctor. What with the election and all Borusa feels the Doctor might put undue pressure on me. But with all the comments I've heard from others I think I'd rather be away from the Citadel when I think things over because I feel more pressure here than I've ever felt from the Doctor. What do you think?"

"You could get away from both, if you think you could endure a primitive lifestyle for a while," Rodan suggested.

"With the dropouts outside the citadel?"

"Not my sort of existence," Rodan continued. "But it suited Leela perfectly. She still visits them every once in a while."

"Do they really hunt and eat wild animals?"

"It's the only way to survive out there, I guess. I went without while I was with them."

"Meats aren't on your diet?"

Rodan's shudder served as Romana's answer.

"They are suspicious of outsiders. And they do wander around a bit," Rodan continued. "Maybe that's not such a good idea."

"Probably not," Romana concluded. At any rate, I have some questions I want to ask the Doctor. If he's still on Gallifrey when we get done, I suppose I'll go with him."

"Could I see this thing?" Cordar questioned as he and the Doctor entered the TARDIS.

"I don't see why not," the Doctor lied. He led the young Time Lord through the confusing corridors of the TARDIS to the storeroom containing the cube. The Doctor watched Cordar's face closely as he looked at the translucent object.

"You know, Doctor," Cordar blurted. "I've got some equipment in my laboratory that might come in handy on this investigation. Would you mind waiting until I went to get it?"

"I have a fully equipped laboratory in this TARDIS," the Doctor replied.

"Perhaps so," Cordar responded diplomatically. "But my equipment is specially configured, and I'm familiar with it. It might take me a long time to get used to your equipment."

The Doctor thought this over for quite some time and suddenly brightened. "How long would it take you to get it brought here?"

"If I hurried, about half an hour."

"Well, there's no real rush," the Doctor said with a sideways turning of his head that suggested a high level of informality. "Go ahead."

"What are you trying to figure out now?" Romana asked as she entered the control room and discovered the Doctor busy at pencil and paper calculations.

"I'm moving that cube to a more convenient storeroom," he replied without looking up. "It's tiring and time-consuming to keep walking from here to there and back."

"More evidence of your increasing appetite for ease," Romana taunted. The Doctor ignored this.

"The room I want to put it in is twenty one point six eight three meters from the control panel. The cube is forty-five point nine aught meters from the TARDIS door. The angle is one point four three seven radians, by two point six eight radians by aught point two two radians relative to the axis of Gallifrey, giving me a vector of..." The Doctor's voice trailed off.

Romana sat against the arm of the Couch of Indolence, grinning distractedly. The Doctor spoke again.

"Do I add the difference between the vector angles in radians or do I subtract the Z values and add them to the resultant angle in degrees?"

"Set the coordinates for six-two-eight relative, zero point one three by zero point two two by one point one five...radians."

The Doctor looked at Romana skeptically.

"It's a simple vector analysis." Romana almost winked.

The Doctor stared at his figures, willing them to make sense. They didn't. "You're sure about that?"

"You'll be within three millimeters." Romana paused before adding a little jibe. "If you hadn't slept through that part of your elementary math classes...."

The Doctor, ignoring her for the moment, played with his figures a little longer, gave up, and punched Romana's numbers into the control panel. In the adjoining bay the large cube began to fade as the "schwirr schwirr" of the TARDIS' materialization began to sound. As the cube faded from view, the much smaller TARDIS gradually became visible. Moments after only the TARDIS could be seen the Doctor's head poked out of its door. "Nothing here," he commented.

"You'll find it in storeroom five," Romana told him.

"Yes, I know," the Doctor said as he turned back toward the control panel.

"I hope you really did remove the last banana from there last week."

"I did," the Doctor nodded.

Moments later the two time lords stood on a balcony gazing at the translucent cube. "Nicely done," the Doctor smiled at Romana.

She searched his face and manner for sarcasm, found none, and decided now was the time to ask the question Borusa had planted.

"Borusa said something about your son living outside the citadel." Romana decided to share some of the blame for bringing up a possibly uncomfortable subject.

"He may still be there," the Doctor said with an open-handed gesture that suggested a shrug.

"You raised a family?" The tone of Romana's query revealed that she found the idea difficult to accept.

The Doctor turned toward the door of the storeroom. Romana was about to follow him when he stopped and turned back suddenly. "He was part of the reason I left Gallifrey," he revealed almost angrily. "He took off with some friends, and his wife, and left me to care for his daughter."

"Why did you leave?" Romana sensed as she spoke that she had asked a question that was off limits. The Doctor glared at her for nearly a minute, making it seem like a quarter hour.

"Let's go," he finally said. They turned and left.

Romana turned off at her room and lay down for a nap.

A furry creature rubbed its side against a tree. Its white and blue stripes curved diagonally from its shoulders down and back toward its loins. A patch of longer fur grew in a line from its chin down to its chest, between its front legs. This gave it the appearance of an overdressed Victorian maiden.

It stood near the edge of a dense forest. Toward the green sun a field lush with orange-leaved plants stretched until it reached a range of low mountains. In the trees a large number of small, brown, fur-bearing animals scurried from branch to branch. The animal on the ground ignored them, for the moment. It looked toward a smooth rock not far from the forest as if expecting something to appear there.

It did. Gradually the form of a fur-clad, bare-footed woman materialized, standing on the rock, hands raised in a wide V. She dropped her arms slowly and looked toward the forest. The creature padded silently toward her, rubbing against her thighs when it reached her. She reached down and absently ran her fingers through its coat. It turned its head so she would be scratching the back of its neck. A look of expected disappointment crossed the woman's face.

After standing like this for some time the woman finally turned her attention to the animal that now placed its chin against her left thigh. She squatted down, rubbed her cheek against the tuft of long fur, and spoke. "They haven't been here at all, have they, Mavor?" The animal licked her forhead, rubbed against her side, and walked toward the forest.