"I've decided one thing," Romana offered haltingly.

"What's that?" the Doctor prodded.

"Gallifrey can wait."

"Time Lords rarely wait for anything," the Doctor suggested, leading the conversation intentionally astray.

"I still remember almost nothing of our confrontation with the Black Guardian," she continued, ignoring the distraction. "But for some strange reason I clearly remember that I decided not to stay on Gallifrey."

The Doctor knew she meant that she intended to remain with him, but he pushed ahead in the wrong direction. "Maybe you've decided to stay with the time nomads?"

"I couldn't do that!" Romana's tone resembled that of a chiding parent. "I cannot travel as they do. Anyway, their values and mine are very different. We could not long enjoy their company."

Romana's switch from first person singular to plural did not escape the Doctor's notice. "What makes you think you know what I would or would not like?"

"You may be a renegade, but you are still a Time Lord. The acorn never falls far from the tree." Romana stretched lazily against the door of the TARDIS. The two sat in silence for over a minute. "Anyway, we share a sense for adventure that got us into this mess to begin with."

The Doctor pulled at some of the orange grass, but failed to break any blades loose.

"What do you think he showed us during the part we've forgotten?" Romana blurted after another minute or so of silence.

"Huh?" The Doctor turned and looked at her for the first time that morning.

"Over the last few days my memory has gradually returned. But I have reached a barrier that I cannot cross." Romana returned the Doctor's gaze, detecting bits of his character for the first time.

"Obviously our memories have been wiped," he responded. "My guess is that he showed us things out of our futures. Such a fundamental breach of the laws of time would be too much, even for the Black Guardian," he speculated further.

"I sensed that he wanted to break us up," Romana continued. "My first recollection of our encounter was that I had decided to stay. If he showed us things he thought would make me want to leave, he apparently failed."

"But there may be lasting impressions from what he showed us," the Doctor countered. "Things we could never recall consciously, but which would haunt our thoghts and decisions, particularly when we needed to make critical choices in a hurry."

"Will we be able to identify his influence and correct for it?" she asked with genuine concern.

"We could only do that if we could be conscious of the origin of the impression, and we cannot ever do that." The Doctor made this observation with his usual aggravating casualness that bordered on carelessness.

"So we can never be sure in the future that we're doing the right things -- making the right decisions," Romana fretted.

Suddenly the Doctor turned serious. "As we grew up and completed our schooling we developed an indelible set of preferences and values that many call character. These might change slightly and slowly as our lives progress, but nothing acting from outside us can change that fundamental core of consciousness."

The Doctor pushed himself up and stepped away to survey the TARDIS. "You and I are who we are, and we are where we are because of choices we have made based on those preferences and values." He strode around so the sun fell full upon him. "Those won't change. We can rely on them for continuing guidance. Any variations the Black Guardian's subconscious impressions might inflict on our decisions will be minor, and they won't change the fundamental directions of ourselves or, more importantly, of the universe."

"So for the Black Guardian all this was essentially a waste of time." Romana concluded.

"I doubt it," the Doctor answered, stopping suddenly on his path to the TARDIS door. "I'm remembering some things that suddenly seem very important." He turned around and walked straight toward a passing time nomad. The woman paused politely. Romana got up and started toward the two.

"Has Frantec returned?" the Doctor asked the woman.

"No," she answered readily.

"Aren't you worried about her?"

"Well, yes. But what can we do?"

"Why didn't you remind me?" The Doctor's voice verged on frantic.

"You were in no shape to leave here," the woman explained. "We decided that when it was possible that Frantec's situation was more dangerous than your own you would remember and take appropriate action."

"Right!" the Doctor exclaimed, turning abruptly back toward the TARDIS.

"Thank you," Romana smiled to the woman, seeking to patch over the Doctor's unintended discourtesy. Then she turned and ran after the Doctor.

"The leadership crisis that has plagued Gallifrey for centuries is over," Borusa declared to a room full of supporters. "Tonight, in the presence of my supporters in this room, and over the facilities of Public Register, I pledge to protect the dignity and integrity of our society. I pledge to promote the well being of every loyal Gallifreyan. And I pledge to seek new opportunities for service and greatness as we maintain and build on the legacy of Rassilon."

The raucous applause that attends any victorious political gathering met Borusa's ostentatious and generally meaningless speech. Chancellor Hedin, laboring in a room full of many sources of information including the Public Register broadcast, hardly noticed. Having assisted the Cardinal in his campaign, he expected to recieve a notable position in the new administration. But he had one more task to complete -- develop a plan to deal with the Cordar matter with the least embarrassment to a fledgling government.

Castellan Kellner, hoping to maintain his current position when Borusa took the office of Lord President, made a gracious concession speech to a subdued audience, and hurriedly traveled to Borusa's campaign headquarters. He, too, had a few ideas about dispensing justice. The fact that they were probably tainted by his humiliation in the matter of the Vardans and Sontarans, and that the same embarrasment to Gallifrey was again involved, didn't seem to inform his estimates of how well Borusa might accept his suggestions.

Getting the situation to go away quietly was the one thing Loralar didn't want to see happen. And even as she stopped briefly to express her approval of the election's outcome she plotted ways to retain what little family dignity her son might have failed to cast into utter oblivion. Those plans mostly involved finding other people to implicate. In other words, she was now evaluating candidates of a different sort, and this list wasn't anywhere near as short as the list of candidates for the just-concluded political race.

"So we know what went wrong. But that's essentially worthless now since the Smarlonians have cut off all contact and are, presumably, already on their way with as large an attack fleet as they're capable of getting together." Defense commissioner George Whatley had always been rather confident about his planet's ability to ward off potential invaders. He found the current government's concern over the communication incident a little excessive, and was even less impressed by Regent Fergus' strange new assistant.

"Contrary to what you might think," the king replied, "I do truly appreciate the willingness of your many conscripts to sacrifice themselves, or possibly parts of themselves, to keep the rest of us safe and overfed. And you are involved in these meetings because we may, as a last resort, have to plan to defend ourselves against the unknown military capabilities of Smarlon.

"But I doubt they can reach us in less than two or three months, and I want to take some of that time trying to find a way to prevent the need for anyone to die or even be injured in dealing with what we now know was a misunderstanding of historical proportions. We have time, and I need the input of each of you." Fergus' final gesture took in all the commissioners at the table.

"I'm with George," Anne Borders, commisioner of housing, put in. "There is no conceivable intervention that would prevent an attack." A chorus of grunts indicated agreement.

Fergus again sought to push his mostly inherited cadre of officials to more creativity. "Many impossible things get done when they're approached with conviction and a willingness to think unconventionally. My conviction is that the primary value in any situation is to avoid hostilities. One of the conventional approaches to a problem like this is to count the cost of each option. But what is the cost of a life? What value will you place on the efforts and emotions of even one Darmellonian family? If there are no other options we WILL defend ourselves militarily. But let's be absolutely certain there aren't any other options!"

The king dismissed the meeting with an order to reconvene at the same time the next day.

"What do you think she's been doing? And why did you leave her behind, anyway?" Romana fiddled distractedly at a keyboard on the TARDIS' console.

"It finally dawned on me what had to be going on," the Doctor responded. "And when it did I knew you and all the time nomads were in danger. Why take Frantec with me and expose her to the same danger when she was in a friendly and peaceful place?"

"How could you have known? I was taken completely by surprise!"

"A friend was a big help," the Doctor reminisced. "I'd been thinking that what Cordar was doing was considerably beyond his capabilities. He must have had help, but it was also quite clear he thought he'd done everything on his own. He had to be the tool of someone who had the power to influence his thinking without his awareness.

"And when Fergus prodded me about the events that had led me back to his home, it finally dawned on me who had the requisite abilities and a motive to make things happen the way they had."

"So, you recognized the first trap, but what about others?" Romana queried.

"Others?"

"More traps!" Romana dropped her shoulders in exasperation. "The Black Guardian is too crafty to have relied on a single trap to accomplish his goals," she explained.

"But his first trap worked. He got me to override the randomizer and was able to have his confrontation with us." The Doctor began to sound more and more like a petulant but essentially ignorant child.

"Was the confrontation the goal, or a means to a more devious end?" Romana prodded. "He got us out of the way for a few days, he's managed to get us to question our own motives for everything we do, and anytime between now and the time we die he could spring yet another of his many additional traps. Events that are taking place now (relative time, of course) may well lead to future problems." She paused in her soliliquy and stared at the Doctor. "So what's the next challenge?" she concluded.

"I think we're about to find out," the Doctor said, noticing, as landing procedures began, that the arrival coordinates didn't match the destination he'd programmed.

It finally dawned on Frantec that she wasn't any more prevented from going home than she had been from spending weeks on Smarlon. She felt some obligation to see out the problems that had cropped up during her visit, but her powers made it possible to visit home and return well before anyone had any idea she'd been gone.

On arriving at the orange meadow she sought out Vorlene and, to her surprise, found her sitting with Hadrian watching the gorral frolic at the edge of the forest.

"How quickly can you catch me up on everything?" she introduced.

Hadrian and Vorlene looked around, their faces betraying a trace of embarrassment. "You got a month or two?" Hadrian answered. "Vorlene was just filling me in on the home planet of our strange visitors."

"Well, I never made it there, so I'd be interested in hearing about it, if I'm not interrupting," Frantec said meaningfully.

Vorlene cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Not at all. Have a seat." She patted the grass beside her.

"Any reason you're dressed like the strangers?" Hadrian queried as Frantec began to comply with Vorlene's invitation.

"That's another long story," Frantec stated, nervously fingering the still unfamiliar band around her finger. "So who goes first?"

Vorlene noticed the unnaturally-fabricated metal, and made the choice. "I saw those on Gallifrey. What do they mean where you were?"

Frantec's face communicated the incomprehension she was unable to voice. Hadrian intervened in an attempt to help. "Vorlene has been telling me that such finger decorations are used on Gallifrey to indicate which group a person belongs to."

"And on some worlds," Vorlene caught up, "they are worn on a particular finger to indicate that a person is mated."

"To be honest, I don't know what this might mean on the world's I've been visiting," Frantec said.

"Worlds?" Hadrian wondered.

And so the three went on, filling each other in on all the strange events that had begun with Cordar's interference. They got so engrossed in the conversation that they didn't even mind when one of them would relate events or details the others knew already. Finally something dawned on Hadrian. "You probably need to get back there so the Doctor can bring you back here."

"How's that?" Frantec asked.

"The Doctor left here several hours ago, by this time, to bring you back from," he paused, trying to remember the name she had used, "Darmellon."

The very idea of leaving so she could be brought back struck Frantec as so funny that she was still laughing when she disappeared.

"Chancellor Hedin," the Doctor greeted. "May I assume that I owe my recent navigational difficulties entirely to your efforts?"

"Borusa's orders," Hedin evaded. Romana scampered off, only to be stopped by the guards that had accompanied the chancellor.

"So I can probably also assume that Borusa has been successful in his campaign to become Lord President."

"And now it's time to deal with the case of Cordar," Hedin finished for him.

"Aren't you going to bring some of the time nomads to give testimony in his case?" the Doctor asked. "It would be very compelling."

"There has been far too much contamination of their culture already," Hedin warned, turning to walk toward the council chambers. "The less contact they have with us and our technology the better."

"I would normally agree," the Doctor averred. "But the contamination of their society continues without us even as we speak."

"Not our business," Hedin dismissed, bustling on.

"I forgot, anything is acceptable as long as WE don't DO it." The Doctor's sarcasm failed to shake Hedin's imperious indifference.

"Wash our hands of it, blame someone else, and pretend that it didn't happen," Romana joined in the Doctor's irreverent spirit.

"The things I put up with..." Hedin muttered.

The new Lord President met them in the anteroom to the council chamber. "I know this runs counter to your every value, principle, and instinct," he began, "but it will be best for Gallifrey, for the time nomads, and, ultimately, for Cordar himself if we can deal with this matter quickly and quietly."

The Doctor neither agreed nor disagreed as if the erstwhile Cardinal had not challenged him. Romana, not knowing with whom she would be siding, said, "All potential culpability in this matter needs to be thoroughly investigated."

"Even if the actions of an old romantic interest might be determined to have contributed to what happened?" This implication came from Castellan Kellner.

"If I have contributed to the wrongs done to the time nomads then that should be investigated and dealt with," Romana met the challenge boldly. She felt something bump her knee and turned to see the Doctor staring sternly at her.

"We want the truth in this proceeding," Borusa picked up his interrupted thoughts. "Not some high, broad interpretation of universal truth, but the simple truth of what Cordar did." The Lord President knew that the Doctor would understand what he meant, for while he didn't know about his former student's recent confrontation with the Black Guardian he was quite sure the Doctor had determined, as Borusa had, that Cordar had not acted alone. Romana should have understood, but she was still too busy thinking up a list of Gallifreyans who might share culpability.

When no one challenged things further, Borusa nodded to the guards who opened the council chamber doors, standing behind them as the rest entered. Borusa strode to his place at the head of the council, Hedin joined the body for his first official act as a member, and the Doctor and Romana were escorted to seats not far behind the prosecution chamber. Kellner sat next to the lead prosecutor.

At the defense table a defiantly confused Cordar chatted quietly with a Time Lord nearing the end of his fifth regeneration. This meant the body of his defender was weak, but everyone in the room knew the prosecution faced one of the sharpest legal minds in the Citadel. On the defender's left sat Loralar, already taking notes in a hand her neighbor could easily read.

As if signalled by Borusa's action in taking his seat, Chancellor Flavia rose from her usual position within the High Council and took the seat that indicated she would preside over this legal proceeding. Everyone but the members of the High Council stood as she stood and remained standing until she had seated herself. She turned toward the defense table. "Jurist Pollet, are you prepared to present a competent defense on behalf of your client, Cordar?"

"I am, your honor," he replied, making a weak attempt at standing as he spoke.

"Very good, then," she continued. "Normally evidence for such a proceeding would be taken from the matrix," she announced, waving vaguely toward the tri-D vidscreen behind her. "However the defendant has not achieved the status for his actions to be recorded. Were it not for the serious nature of the allegations against him he would not be tried in this setting by this august council. So we must rely on the procedures of lower courts and take oral testimony from those who have witnessed the actions alleged."

Flavia surveyed the chamber sternly before she proceeded. "I warn all witnesses about the limits to be imposed on this case. Your testimony shall be limited to the actions of the defendant and any DIRECT effect they may have had on other people and cultures."

Pollet moved in his seat as if to stand, but he spoke before he actually got out of the seat. "I object to such limitations, your honor," he asserted. He struggled to his feet as he awaited Flavia's reply.

"Have you a legal basis for your objection?" she asked formally.

"In Cordar's defense I must ask questions that get to the state of mind of Cordar and other participants," he responded, almost rotely.

Flavia responded quickly, but with considerable fervor. "The question to be determined in this phase of the proceedings against Cordar is specifically what actions he may or may not have taken. In short, we want to determine the truth or falsehood of the accusations the prosecutors have made. Should there be any exculpatory value in state-of-mind testimony, it can be given during the penalty phase, which will take place only if this body determines it necessary." She gestured toward the High Council with her last phrase. "Objection overruled."

Pollet sat heavily.

"Call your first witness," Flavia ordered the prosecutor.

Kellner's neigbor stood and the Doctor, for the first time, recognized Andred. "I call the former Lord President of Gallifrey, the Doctor," the prosecutor announced.

A murmur of shock rippled through the chamber and, throughout the Citadel, wherever the Public Register coverage of the proceeding could be seen. For the first time in history, a Lord President had been replaced before final death. That the Time Lords' first living former Lord President should now give testimony in this case presented a double shock.

The Doctor stood, lifted one end of his scarf to prevent himself from tripping on it, and walked casually to the hastily added witness stand. Borusa met him there, carrying the staff of Rassilon. He rapped it solidly against the floor twice before speaking. "As a witness, you become an agent of Time Lord justice. In that function you must give truthful testimony in response to the questions asked of you. Do you so assent?"

"I do," the Doctor said in casual compliance.

"The council of Time Lords has heard and registered your assent," the Lord President said. He completed the formality by again striking the floor twice before returning to his seat.

Andred slipped behind Kellner to stand near the middle of the room. "Doctor," he intoned. "Could you explain the events that led you to become involved in this matter approximately three relative weeks ago?"

"Objection." Pollet did not make any moves that might be construed as an attempt to stand.

Flavia stared at him, nonverbally demanding an explanation. When Pollet failed to take the hint she finally prodded him verbally. "Can you give a reason for your objection?"

"For the Doctor to explain how he started meddling in this matter does not address my client's actions in any way," he said. "You have already ordered that testimony be limited to the actions of my client."

"You objected to that limitation," Flavia interrupted.

"I was overruled, your honor," Pollet shot back. "The Doctor's actions and choices are often tainted with interference, as this council is very familiar," he continued. "At any rate, even if he gives truthful testimony his choice to become involved sheds no light on my client's actions and therefore would be inapproriate at this hearing."

"Your honor," Andred interjected, taking the first opportunity he had to speak without interrupting. "The Doctor is prepared to offer testimony which clearly links Cordar and his actions to the events which got the Doctor involved."

"Such testimony would be hearsay," Pollet argued.

"Counsel can object at the time such testimony is given," Andred countered.

"And I intend to, which would make the current testimony useless. Let's save the council's time and avoid this line of questioning altogether."

"Objection sustained," Chancellor Flavia announced, catching Andred by surprise. He started to object, but bent over and held a whispered consultation with Kellner.

When he stood again he faced the Doctor and began a new question. "Did you unexpectedly arrive at Gallifrey about three relative weeks ago?"

The Doctor opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by Pollet.

"Objection." He continued without prompting from the hearing's presiding officer. "The Doctor's decision to visit his home planet, unusual as it may be, has nothing at all to do with my client or his actions."

"Sustained," Flavia announced distractedly.

"Your honor," Andred pleaded with hints of real frustration. "If you sustain all his objections we shall hear no testimony at all in this case!"

"To the contrary," Pollet contradicted. "I cannot object to any testimony that directly involves the actions of my client. I am simply asking that the limitations your honor has imposed on testimony are obeyed."

"The primary charges against Cordar involve the events that counsel is preventing from being presented," Andred protested.

"Approach," Flavia cut him off.

Andred immediately strode to Flavia's stand. Pollet took his time, making an unnecessary show of his age and frailty.

"Counsel is attempting to cut off all testimony regarding the most heinous of Cordar's crimes." Andred continued quietly once Pollet had arrived. "Many of the High Council, such as Chancellor Hedin, are already aware of some of these events through firsthand knowledge. Counsel cannot prevent this body from knowing about them."

"The High Council are duty bound to base their decisons only on the information presented at trial," Pollet stated. "At any rate, these proceedings are as much for public consumption as for the High Council. The public must be satisfied that justice has been carried out. Most of the public has no knowledge of the 'cube' or of Cordar's alledged involvement. And there is no direct evidence that Cordar had any part in the creation of the alleged object."

"How can you be so sure?" Chancellor Flavia presented the challenge this time.

"Sure of what?" Pollet delayed.

"Sure that the prosecution has no direct evidence regarding Cordar's involvement in the kidnapping of an entire race." Flavia's words clarified that she, Pollet, and Andred knew the facts of the case equally well.

"It is my job to fully investigate the charges against my client, and it is my privilege to know everything the prosecution knows. Indeed, it is the prosecution's duty to inform me of all evidence against my client." Pollet's words in private lacked the minimal amount of emotion he had displayed in the public proceedings.

The truth was beginning to dawn on Andred. "You and, and..." he stammered, "he and the High Council made a deal."

"There was no deal," Flavia soothed. "Simply an agreement on how best to administer justice and to minimize the impact of this case on the public. There are facts even you don't know, Andred."

"Then I demand, as prosecutor, to know them," Andred heatedly asserted.

"You are a good, honest citizen," Flavia continued. "You could not be trusted with the knowledge. The renegade, the Doctor, probably has this knowledge. He, however, understands the consequences of making that knowledge public. We aren't sure you do."

The impact of this revelation silenced Andred. He finally managed to make one last argument. "How can we say justice has been served if the most serious crimes are not prosecuted?"

"I recall there are several remaining charges which are still serious enough to warrant heavy sanction," Flavia reminded. "Multiple counts of assault on a fellow Time Lord; endangering the life of a sentient extra-terrestrial; thwarting the intent of a superior...."

Andred half listened; still boiling inside.

"Proceed with the next part of your case," Flavia concluded.

"Doctor," Andred began after Pollet had laboriously returned to his place between Loralar and Cordar, "When did you first meet the defendant, Cordar?" Pollet did not object.

"It suddenly dawned on me about 3:00 this morning," George Whatley announced.

All eyes from around the table fixed on him.

"Whoever was able to tell us why the Smarlonians took offense at such an inoffensive statement must understand their language better than we do. They're clearly not one of us, so they might stand a chance of communicating to them what went wrong and convincing them there was no intent to insult."

"How would we get them there in time?" someone else asked.

"That's part of what suddenly became so obvious this morning," Whatley revealed. "Regent Fergus told us this person was there at their end of the linkup to hear what they heard. The only way for someone to hear it from both ends would have been to time travel." He stopped and looked around smugly as if such an unheard-of premise was the only logical conclusion.

"There's no such thing as time travel," Borders countered.

"Our science has not developed any understandings about the universe that would explain an ability to travel in time," the king clarified. "For us it is impossible, but that doesn't mean nobody can move around in time more or less at will."

"Well, in that case, let's just go back in time before the unfortunate incident and fix the software so it doesn't happen," the commissioner of commerce suggested.

Whatley was ready. "I thought of that. But that would require that WE travel back in time. That may be impossible. Or, if it's possible it only changes reality for other versions of ourselves in some parallel universe. We need a solution that changes OUR reality. So we have to stay where we are and send this person, whoever he is, back to talk peace with the Smarlonians in OUR timestream."

"Which is more possible since SHE already has the ability to travel in time and space," Fergus corrected.

"She?" Whatley's voice betrayed surprise.

"You already knew about this -- certainly you had the same idea," Borders charged.

The regent nearly winked and definitely couldn't hide his grinning. "Yes, but I had two reasons for waiting," he said. "First, I felt we had already imposed on her abilities far more than we had the right to ask. Second, you now have greater ownership of the decision, and I have the weight of your request to present to our benefactor." He paused while fiddling at his console. "Meet Frantec," he invited.

Frantec entered the room and took a seat beside Fergus. He turned and addressed her. "My advisors have a request to make of you. Commissioner Whatley?" he turned toward the military officer.

Whatley cleared his throat, indicating his discomfort. "We believe you may have the ability to help us negate this threat to our planet," he began. "I don't know how you would do it, but we think it might be possible for you to contact the right people on Smarlon and convince them to call off their attack."

Borders picked up the line of thought. "We're not asking you to do anything that might endanger you. We are fully prepared to defend ourselves at the price of Darmellonian blood." She looked to Whatley, who nodded in agreement. "In fact we are making all the preparations to do so and don't intend to stop until this threat to our security no longer exists. But you could save many lives on both sides if you could convince the Smarlonians what really went wrong."

Frantec looked to Fergus, the only familiar face in the room. He moderated the request. "We are already deeply in your debt. Our culture and ways are most certainly quite strange to you, and it was never our intention to involve you in our relations with other worlds. But, as you've already heard, we believe you have the ability to prevent the loss of many lives. The choice is yours."

"My tribe has not long been aware that people very like ourselves existed on other worlds," Frantec began. "A recent incident has forced us into contact with many strange worlds and ways. My own presence here seems to have been the result of an unexpected accident."

Frantec looked around the room and decided to continue. "My tribe believes there are powers that guide the happenstances of this universe. Evil powers, no doubt, arranged the glitch in your technology that led to the present misunderstanding. It may be, however, that my presence here was less of an accident than it at first seemed. If so, then it is both my duty and my privilege to help.

"Given my powers, I have no need to stay here. Of course the man who brought me here may well feel he needs to come back and take me home. That's why I haven't stayed home and am here now. Hopefully he can return in a way you can tell him what's happening in case I'm gone when he comes. So, yes, let me at least try."

"How long do we have to wait?" someone at the table asked.

"That's the beauty of it," Whatley explained. "Given her powers she can return and report on her success or failure in just minutes, well before this meeting is over." He looked to Fergus for confirmation. Fergus nodded, Frantec disappeared.