THE DOCTOR AND Romana had nearly completed their hunt for the Professor’s very special book. Working methodically from either end of the room, they had been through almost every one of the thousands of titles, and the Professor’s quarters looked, if it were possible, even more of a mess than before. Now they were checking off the last few books.
Romana had the sinking feeling that The Worshipful and Ancient Law of Gallifrey was not going to be among them. ‘Roget’s Thesaurus,’ she said, stacking yet another book on top of a tottering pile.
The Doctor did the same on his side. ‘British Book of Wildlife, in colour.’
‘Alternative Betelgeuse,’ said Romana, tossing aside the travel guide.
‘The Time Machine,’ said the Doctor.
‘Wuthering Heights,’ said Romana.
There were now only two books left. The Doctor took a deep breath and reached for one of them. His shoulders slumped. ‘Tandoori Chicken For Starters.’
Romana flung her last book down in absolute disgust. ‘Chariots of the Gods.’
‘So,’ said the Doctor. ‘No sign of The Worshipful and Ancient Law of Gallifrey.’
Romana glanced at the open kitchen door. The Professor was inside, making another inevitable round of teas. ‘Do you really think it’s important?’ she whispered.
‘Of course!’ exploded the Doctor. ‘It’s one of the Artefacts!’
Romana chose her next words carefully. ‘Other than for its historical value?’
The Doctor bit his lip. ‘Each of the Artefacts was imbued with stupendous power. The meanings were lost millennia ago, but those powers remain. And the ancient rituals, of course.’
Romana cast her mind back. ‘I never really thought about the rituals. I just mouthed along to the words like everyone else.’
‘Remind me,’ said the Doctor. ‘It’s been a while. Isn’t there one that refers specifically to our missing book?’
Romana frowned. ‘Oh yes. At the Academy’s induction ceremony. How did it go? “I swear to protect—”’
The Doctor nodded vigorously. ‘Oh yes, of course. “I swear to protect The Worshipful and Ancient Law of Gallifrey with all my might and main, and I will, to the end of my days, with justice and with honour, temper my actions and my thoughts.”’
Romana smiled. ‘Harmless enough words.’
The Doctor looked as if he might explode again. ‘Pompous enough words. From a pompous lot, all grand intentions but no actions.’
‘That’s not true,’ countered Romana. ‘What about you, for instance? Plenty of actions.’
‘Yes, well, I’m the exception that proves the rule,’ said the Doctor, not entirely unpompously.
‘And there’ve been others,’ Romana pointed out. ‘What about Drax?’
The Doctor smiled. ‘Ha! Drax!’
Romana thought back to their adventure on the planet Atrios, where she’d encountered her second renegade Time Lord. Drax, a contemporary of the Doctor, had left Gallifrey and spent his time running a slightly shady intergalactic salvage and repair operation.
‘And the Corsair,’ said the Doctor. ‘Though he’s one of the good ’uns, really. We must catch up with her sometime.’
‘And the Master, of course,’ Romana went on.
The Doctor gave her a sombre look. ‘Of course.’
‘And then there’s the Rani. And Morbius, don’t forget Morbius.’
‘How could I?’ spluttered the Doctor. ‘He nearly knocked my block off.’ He gazed into mid-air, looking back into his own past. ‘And there was the Meddling Monk.’
‘And the Interfering Nun,’ added Romana. ‘And going back a bit, there was the Heresiarch of Drornid. And Subjatric.’
‘Subjatric and Rundgar,’ the Doctor corrected her. ‘They were quite a team, those bad brothers. Terrible tyrants, the stories say. Drowned their own mother in a leaky SIDRAT.’
‘And what about Salyavin?’ said Romana.
The Doctor frowned. ‘Oh yes, him. Awesome psychic powers, they said…’
‘Did you ever meet any of them, the ancient outlaws?’ asked Romana. ‘The legends always made them sound so terrifying.’
The Doctor spluttered, looking insulted at the suggestion. ‘I certainly did not! I’m not that old!’
‘Weren’t you ever tempted to see them for yourself?’ asked Romana.
The Doctor harrumphed. ‘I don’t go running up and down the Gallifreyan timeline, Romana. I have my limits! It could cause the most terrible paradoxes!’
Romana regretted asking. ‘All right.’
‘No, Salyavin was long gone, and long before I was born,’ said the Doctor. ‘Subjatric and Rundgar too, and Lady Scintilla, all of those old ne’er-do-wells.’
‘What happened to them?’ asked Romana. Her Gallifreyan history was usually better than the Doctor’s, but on this occasion she couldn’t quite recall the details.
The Doctor puffed out his cheeks. ‘Do you know, I can’t remember.’ He called out into the kitchen. ‘Professor?’
‘Yes?’ the Professor called back. ‘Nearly done.’
‘Lady Scintilla. And Salyavin. And Subjatric and Rundgar, the terrible tyrants. What became of them? We’re regrettably cloudy on the details.’
The Professor ran suddenly into the room, his face wild with excitement and worry. ‘I’ve just remembered!’
‘I only just asked you,’ said the Doctor, reasonably.
‘Asked me what?’
‘What happened to the Ancient Outlaws,’ said Romana. ‘Lady Scintilla and Salyavin and all the rest.’
The Professor frowned, obviously not taking in what she was saying at all. ‘Salyavin? Scintilla? I’m not talking about them. Good riddance to them! We must find the book!’
‘Professor, what do you think we’ve been doing?’ said the Doctor.
The Professor waved his arm dismissively. ‘I just remembered! There was a young man here earlier. Came to borrow some books. He might have taken it whilst I was out of the room making tea.’
The Doctor leapt over to the Professor’s side. ‘What was his name, Professor?’
The Professor tutted and drummed his fingers against his temples. ‘Oh, I can’t remember. Oh dear, I’ve got a memory like… Oh, what is it I’ve got a memory like? What’s that thing you strain rice with?’
‘What was his name, Professor?’ urged Romana. ‘Was he Tall? Short? Young? Old?’
The Professor jabbed a finger in the air triumphantly. ‘I remember!’ he exclaimed. ‘Yes, I remember!’
‘Who was he?’ demanded the Doctor. ‘Tell us!’
‘A sieve!’ cried the Professor, exultant. ‘That’s what it is! I’ve got a memory like a sieve!’
There was a pause.
‘What was the young man’s name, Professor?’ asked the Doctor again.
‘Oh, I can’t remember that,’ said the Professor airily.
Romana took the Professor’s hand and gave him her warmest smile. He seemed such a nice old man. ‘Oh, Professor, please try.’
The Professor squinted. ‘A… A…’ He paused. ‘No, it doesn’t begin with A.’
‘B?’ suggested the Doctor.
‘C?’ suggested Romana.
The process was agonisingly slow. After all, Romana reflected, a Time Lord brain for all its marvels was still a brain at the end of the day, subject to eventual age and decay. The Doctor was nothing like as old as the Professor, as he had just had cause to remind her, and even he could be infuriatingly forgetful and erratic at times.
The Professor continued to run through the alphabet as far as he remembered it, pausing between each letter to consider. ‘P, Q, R, X… X again, T, B, Y…’
Suddenly he snapped to attention. ‘Y! Young!’
‘He’s called Young?’ exclaimed the Doctor.
‘Yes,’ nodded the Professor. ‘Young Christopher Parsons!’ The revelation seemed to shake the Professor and he stood upright and rigid, eyes screwed tight shut. ‘Born 1952, graduated 1975, honours degree in Physics, currently researching sigma particles.’ He sighed as if this had been a great effort, opened his eyes and beamed over at the Doctor and Romana. ‘There we are! I knew it was in there somewhere.’
‘Where would this Chris Parsons be now, Professor?’ urged the Doctor.
‘Er – the physics lab, I should imagine,’ said the Professor. ‘You can borrow a bike from the quad. Then you’ll have to take the first left out of the gates and then—’
The Doctor interrupted him. ‘Yes yes, Professor, you took me there one afternoon, remember?’ He was already heading for the door. ‘We spent a very nice afternoon bashing some atoms about and then calling them names.’
‘Oh yes,’ said the Professor, smiling. ‘Well, I suppose this calls for tea.’ He set off back into the kitchen.
‘I’ll be two minutes,’ the Doctor called after him.
Then he turned to Romana, looked her right in the eye and whispered urgently, ‘If I’m not back in two hours, you and the Professor lock yourselves in the TARDIS with K-9. Send out an all-frequency alert direct to Gallifrey, and wait. Don’t come after me!’ He pulled his scarf tighter around his neck and made for the door.
‘Wait!’ called Romana.
The Doctor turned. ‘Yes, wait! Wait and don’t come after me!’
‘No, I meant wait as in “wait a second”,’ said Romana. She leaned in close to him. ‘Send a signal to Gallifrey? Is it really that important? That you’d ask for help from the Time Lords?’
‘I hope not,’ said the Doctor gravely, and then he was gone.