K9 Mark I was helping the chronoengineers monitor fluctuations in the time vortex when he received the call from Andred. "K9, meet me back in Delta Wing 487. My investigations are over for the day."

"Affirmative," K9 answered, and announced to the other workers that he was leaving.

K9 had been a bit of an oddity when he'd first arrived on Gallifrey many years ago, along with Leela. But the robot dog seemed to have an endless supply of curiosity and energy, and he just went around the capital, helping out the Time Lords – especially Andred – in their daily duties wherever he could.

Then Romana had showed up many years later with a duplicate K9, the Mark II. Now, no one gave it a second thought to see either of the K9s go anywhere or do anything.

K9 left the chronolab and made his way to a transmat center, preparing to help his master again in the Arcalian College. He rolled down a promenade which seemed empty of anyone but himself, but then he detected the sounds of shouting from a nearby alcove. One of the voices clearly said, "You take that back or I'll kill you!"

K9 changed course and rolled smoothly into the alcove to investigate the situation and attempt to settle it peacefully. "Cease hostilit-"

An ionic field lashed out, surrounding his metallic body. Too late, K9 realized he'd rolled into a trap.

He extended his laser gun from his nose, intending to blast the source of the ionic field, but the weapon wouldn't extend properly. Then his sense of time started to go as his internal clock registered variations with its backup. The ionic field was slowly scrambling his brain.

The courageous little robot tried desperately to hang on.

 

The Doctor strolled into an observation chamber high in the palace. It was a vast room with dim lights, dark reflective floor, a huge window and plush sofas stretching along the room. But for all its size, there was only one other person there.

"And what ails you, Bess?" he asked.

Bess Martin stood silhouetted against the bay window and the orange sky beyond, looking out over the city and the clouds drifting past. Her arms were folded. The Doctor sat down on one of the long sofas behind her.

"I don't know, Doctor," she said. "I can't get over how powerful the Time Lords are, how much you can do, and yet you still seem just as vulnerable as us."

"Power implies perfection, Bess. And we're far from perfect."

Bess turned around and came to sit beside him. "Doctor, how is time travel possible?"

"Are you looking for a technical explanation?" he asked.

"No," she said. "What I mean is, well...when we left for G889, I had to say good-bye to my father, and it was the hardest thing I've ever done. It was basically a choice between him and Morgan, a choice between my past and my future. I had to choose my future, and I left my father behind."

"I'm sure he wouldn't have wanted it any other way," the Doctor said.

"No. No, he didn't. He always wanted what was best for me. But it was like attending a funeral for someone who's still alive. Do you know how hard it is to say good-bye to someone you love, knowing you'll never see them again?"

"Yes."

Bess caught his tired smile and she remembered the Doctor was much older than he looked. She couldn't begin to guess what the Doctor had been through in his lifetime. She drew her knees up beneath her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs. "Doctor, I know my father is dead by now. The doctors said he didn't have another five years, much less 24. But I believe in God. I believe in heaven, and I know my father's there.

"But if I wanted to, and if I knew how, I could just hop inside one of your miraculous machines and go back to Earth 24 years ago, and presto – there he'd be...alive again. Doctor, I'm so confused. Not about time travel, but what it means for us as people. How can my father be in heaven and alive in the past at the same time? I mean, if you can travel in time, doesn't that make death meaningless?"

"Time travel can be very attractive to people who have lost something," the Doctor said gently. "But I have learned the hard way – the very hard way – that when you use time travel to keep someone alive past their time, it doesn't extend the joy. It just extends the pain. Your father can be in heaven now and on Earth in the past. The one doesn't preclude the other. If I were to go back 30 years, I believe I'd find a teenage Bess, wouldn't I?"

Bess gave a weak smile. "I suppose. Please don't, though. I don't think I could stand it."

The Doctor said, "I believe that what you are really asking me about is the very nature of life, and perhaps of God. I regret to say that I don't have any answers for you. But I can tell you that time isn't linear. It's more like a place, and things that happen in one area of that place affect other areas. This is something the Terrians understand."

"Do you have people you care about back on Earth, like I do?" Bess asked. "Is there someone you care about deeply?"

"Yes, there is, actually," the Doctor brightened. "Believe it or not, my best friend in the whole universe is a stiff-upper-lip, by-the-book military man from 20th-century Earth."

"Really?" Bess smiled, intrigued. "That sounds so unlike you!"

"Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, to give him his full name," the Doctor said pompously, making Bess laugh. "Earth was the subject of several attempts at alien invasion during the 20th century, long before the Daleks came along. An international paramilitary group called UNIT – United Nations Intelligence Taskforce – was formed to deal with these threats. Every nation which participated loaned some of their troops to UNIT, which investigated anything strange or alien.

"When the Time Lords exiled me to Earth, I joined the British branch of UNIT as their scientific advisor, which is actually a post I still hold. They gave me a laboratory which I used to research ways I could break free from my exile. In return I helped them out whenever an alien race came along with no good intentions. Alistair was in charge of England's UNIT branch and I got to know him quite well. I fought many an invader by his side."

"Do you ever go back and visit him?" Bess asked.

"Sometimes. Friendships across time are very tricky things. The Brigadier has the life span of any normal human, but from my point of view I've known him for centuries. I always try to avoid seeing him at an earlier time than I saw him last. And if I ever learned of his death, or witnessed it, I would never go back to see him at all. Not even for a moment."

"Could you, though? If you wanted to?"

"Yes," the Doctor said. "But it would be completely pointless and would achieve absolutely nothing. In the end, it would be even worse than just accepting his death in the first place."

"I'll bet you've seen a lot of death, haven't you?"

"And a lot of life," the Doctor said. "The longer I live, the more I see. Both good and bad."

Bess hesitated, then asked quietly, "I'm curious. What do the Time Lords know about God?"

"Nothing more than you do," the Doctor said. "If you were to ask me if I believe in God, well, I would have to say yes. Beyond that, I don't know. All I know is that if I take a certain amount of tissue, water, blood, bone, brain and everything else that makes a person, and laid it out on a table like a modern-day Frankenstein, and introduced a bio-electrical impulse, I still wouldn't get something that was alive.

"That thing called life, which is inside us all and makes us who we are, and makes us self-aware, and gives us the ability to laugh, is proof enough of a God for me. We are, each of us, much more than the mathematical sum of our parts, and that alone tells me that there is something working which is greater than what we can see."

"Have you ever met any creatures with God-like powers?" Bess asked.

"Oh, a few," the Doctor said. "The Gods of Ragnarok, Fenric, Sutekh, the Celestial Toymaker. And, of course, the Guardians."

"Guardians?" Bess asked. "Who are they?"

"The Black and White Guardians of all space and time are the cosmic manifestations of good and evil. Now, make no mistake, the White Guardian isn't God and the Black Guardian isn't the Devil-"

The Doctor suddenly stopped and thought for a moment.

"At least, not that I'm aware of," he corrected himself. "I'd be surprised if they were. The Guardians' origins are a mystery, and they have the closest to true God-like powers I've ever seen. But they are limited in what they can do. They can only manipulate events, and persuade people. Never control. And most importantly, neither of them can ever be more powerful than the other.

"Why they have these limitations, I don't know. Perhaps the Guardians are the collected, focused thoughts of all living beings throughout the universe, and they are simply acting out our own inner turmoils for us. The Guardians have never said where they come from. From time to time, we Time Lords have had some contact with them, but they are far beyond us. Truly immortal."

"Wow," Bess said with a smile. "You sure do get around!"

"Well," the Doctor gave an embarrassed grin and scratched behind his ear. "Only when the Time Lords let me."

Bess gave him a peculiar look. "But if I didn't know any better, I'd say there's someone else besides the Brigadier you're not telling me about. Someone you care for a lot more than him."

The Doctor looked at her appraisingly. "It's very, very rare for a human to see inside of me," he said quietly. "Yes, you're right. I have a lot of friends on Earth. Ian and Barbara, with their little son John. Ben and Polly. Victoria. My granddaughter Susan."

"Your granddaughter?" Bess asked, incredulous. "Tell me about her!"

"Oh, there's not much," the Doctor lied. "She was a thunderball of energy. Always got herself into trouble. Can't imagine where she got that."

"Of course not, Doctor," Bess stifled a smile.

"But when we defeated the Daleks in the 22nd century, she fell in love with one of the freedom fighters. She needed to stay with him, but she felt like it was her duty to stay with me. I wanted to give her a home, protect her from the aimless wandering of my own existence. So I left her on Earth. I wanted her to settle down and build something with her life."

"How is she doing now?" Bess asked.

The Doctor shrugged evasively. "As well as can be expected. She's happy now. Happier than she would have been with me."

"Don't you ever go back to visit?" Bess asked.

"I've seen her once or twice since then," the Doctor said. "Well...once."

"Doctor!" Bess said, amazed. "Why don't you go see her every now and then?"

He shrugged guiltily. "I left her once. It was agonizing for both of us. If I were to see her again, pop in to say hello, how's the husband, how's the kids, she would be tempted to leave them and travel with me again. I know she would. And I'd be tempted to let her. Then I'd have to leave her all over again, and, well," he sighed, "once was enough."

"Even so, Doctor, you should go see your own family sometimes," Bess said. "At least...you can do so. It's more than the rest of us can do."

The Doctor gave her a peculiar look, then nodded. "Perhaps I shall."

"Which freedom fighter did she fall in love with?" Bess asked.

"David Campbell."

"David Campbell?" Bess was excited. "The David Campbell? I know him! I mean, not personally, but I've heard of him! I've seen him on the old newscasts! We all saw it in school dozens of times, where the freedom fighters are broadcasting a message to the world to tell everyone the threat is over! During the newscast, David is holding hands with his girlfriend!"

"Short dark hair, elfin features?" the Doctor asked.

"That's her!" Bess was ecstatic. "She's your granddaughter!"

"Susan, yes," the Doctor said, grinning more than he realized. "She gets around, too."

"Wow!" Bess said again. "It really is a small universe, after all."

 

"You sure you still want to go through with this?" Walman asked.

Leela nodded. "I gave the Doctor my word. I will not back out on it."

"Then let's get moving," Yale said.

The three of them surreptitiously followed Andred from a distance. In theory, they knew he was heading for Delta Wing 487 of the Arcalian College (and what did he do there? Leela wondered). But they wanted to follow him, just in case.

Andred never once turned around. He still walked moodily wherever he went, barely acknowledging the people he passed. Leela, well known as Andred's wife, tried hard to stay back far enough so that no one who passed by would see that she was following her own husband. Yale and Walman stayed with her, trying to look natural.

"Something is wrong," Leela said after a while. "This is not the way to the Arcalian College."

They had followed Andred to the lower levels of the citadel and there were very few people around now. Leela, Walman and Yale peeked around a corner and saw Andred up ahead of them. He was talking with someone.

"Can you see who that is?" Walman asked.

"Of course not, his face is in shadow," Leela snapped.

"I was asking Yale," Walman said. "He's got an eye we don't have."

"Unfortunately, my eye will not heighten areas of low light," Yale said.

They were too far away to hear what Andred and the stranger were saying. They seemed to be conversing in low tones, keeping to the shadows.

"I cannot believe this!" Leela said, quivering with anger. "He would never betray Gallifrey, or the Doctor. I know he wouldn't!"

"How can you be so sure this meeting is something underhanded?" Yale asked. "He might just be saying hello to an old friend."

"Must be a pretty good friend," Walman said. "You know how many people Andred's stopped to chat with today? None."

Leela said, "You forget, I am a hunter, a warrior of the Sevateem. I can read people very easily, especially my own husband. I can sense betrayal. And I know this meeting should not be happening!"

"So what do we do now?" Walman asked.

"I am going to confront my husband, as planned," Leela said. "Someone needs to follow the other."

"I'll do that," Yale said.

Andred and the stranger separated. Andred headed for a lift which would take him back up while the other drifted back into the shadows.

"Good luck," Walman said. Yale started following the mysterious stranger while Leela and Walman kept after Andred. Walman made sure he let Leela go ahead of him.

She had the look of the huntress in her eyes.

 

Yale followed the mysterious figure down into the depths of the citadel. After a while, he estimated that he was at least half a kilometer below the surface and still descending. Plush corridors and opulent furnishings were slowly replaced by machinery and pipes as they went. There didn't seem to be anyone down here at all.

The figure rounded a corner 30 meters ahead. Yale ran forward furtively, desperate not to lose him. When he looked around the corner himself, he saw only an empty, gray corridor stretching before him.

Yale cautiously stepped out, peering around. No one else was about. All he heard was the constant, low roar of nearby machinery, perhaps generators for the palace. He walked on, looking for any place someone could be hidden.

A burst of static hit Yale across the eyes.

"1...2...3...Here we go!"

"Argh!" Yale shouted, jumping back. He blinked wildly but there was nothing before him but the gray basement of Gallifrey.

Suddenly afraid, Yale stepped forward again, wondering what was happening. Seeing a shadowy alcove to his left, he flattened himself against the wall, then quickly peered around to see inside it, jerking his head back as soon as he'd gotten his look.

Another blast of static warped his senses. "Let's break it down!"

Back again in the hallway. Yale breathed hard, trying to focus. He knew he was lucky no one had been in the alcove. "No," he whispered. "Not now. The memories can't be returning now!"

The final rounding up of the biologists, the battle he could only dimly recall. It had been a search for a hidden enemy through gray corridors, the fear of possible death churning in his stomach.

And now, here he was, years later, searching for a hidden enemy through gray corridors, the fear of possible death churning in his stomach.

That was it, he realized. His current situation was so similar that the memories were unlocking inside him. Yale found himself desperately wishing for a crack squad so he could advance down the corridor in standard two-by-two cover formation. His senses screamed to him that he was not protected enough standing where he was.

But he couldn't recall how he knew what a standard two-by-two cover formation was. Buried reflexes were taking over, just like the day they'd last seen Gaal, when he'd ripped that magpro out of Danziger's hands and pulled the trigger shoot him!

"No!" Yale breathed, trying to regain control. "Not now! These memories can come back later, but now is not the time! My mind is my own, and I will not give in!"

Someone screamed.

Yale looked back and forth wildly. It had come from the direction he was already headed. He ran.

He rounded a corner to find two of the Citadel Guard lying on the floor. One was looking up at the ceiling with a broken neck. Yale could not even begin to imagine what weapon had killed the other. His body was burned in some places, melted in others.

They were lying in front of a doorway. Yale darted through it into a room full of massive machinery. In here the noise was deafening. He saw a shadow off to his left and followed it. Then he saw another movement, so fast he couldn't tell what it was.

But Braydon Croy knew what it was.

The next thing Yale knew he was lying on the floor, watching the energy beam slice open the machine behind him. The Elite Services trained their soldiers well, and even in the dim light Yale's buried instincts had recognized the body language of a man drawing a weapon. He didn't even remember throwing himself into cover.

"Give yourself up!" Yale shouted. "You're trapped in here!"

Even over the sound of machinery, Yale could have sworn he heard sinister laughter echoing.

Across the walkway was a spot which offered much better cover, with a chance for observing his enemy. Without even thinking Yale leaped across the gap. Another energy beam sliced out of the darkness, hitting the machinery behind him and blasting it open in an eruption of fire and metal which threw him to the floor.

Yale lay dazed, dimly aware of the searing heat all around him. Emergency gas streamed from the ceiling in jets of white and an alarm blared every other second. He tried to stand but the flames were too intense. He could see no sign of his attacker.

The fire extinguishing chemicals from the ceiling rushed over him, but they were no match for a second machine which chose that moment to explode. Yale staggered once, smoke in his face and in his lungs. Unable to breathe or see, he gagged for air and fell to the floor one final time.

The fire raged around him.