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Romana smiles at the crowd of Time Lords. She has just won her first presidential election, fair and square. They cheer for her loudly, enthusiastically, in a way that is so very un -Gallifreyan. Her opponent even smiles, clapping along with everyone else. Her bodyguard, the warrior Leela, calls out to her. —I knew you could do it, she says. —You have always been a great and wise leader. You are a good friend.
She keeps her title, then. It has been so long since she was president. At least, that’s what it feels like. But it could not be so. The only reason there was a presidential election in the first place is because… because…
Why was there an election? She can’t quite recall. That’s very odd. Normally her memory is superb. She shrugs. It really doesn’t matter, does it?
—Are you alright, Romana? Leela asks. —You look as though something is bothering you. Would it help you to tell me?
Romana smiles a special smile at her friend. —No, she replies. —It was nothing. I just thought there was something, something at the back of my mind, itching it— She pauses. —It was nothing. I’m probably just tired , that’s all.
When Leela leads her back to her rooms afterwards, Romana tries to replay the events of the day in her mind. Trying to ease her confused mind.
There was breakfast, which was a
a
a nutrition bar from the food machine
a piece of fruit from orchards on the slopes of Mount Cadon
a cake, because she didn’t know if she would be celebrating a victory in the evening, so she wanted to make sure she got some in any event
a
She shakes her head. Why can she not remember something so simple? She has not suffered any brain damage recently. Not that she knows of, anyway.
She tries something different. Where was she when she woke up? She was
the bed in the presidential suite. She was president already, she just needed to win re-election to continue being president
a corridor in the Citadel. She was too nervous to sleep, and collapsed from exhaustion just before dawn
Leela’s rooms?
No, she can’t remember. What about her opponent for the election. She just saw her opponent a few microspans ago. It was
was
was Darkel
was Valyes
was Braxiatel
was Livia
was
was
was
None of those sound right. She wonders why. To be completely honest, she doesn’t even remember sleeping. What is happening to her? She puts her hand to her forehead.
—Are you alright, Romana? Leela asks. —You seemed unwell before, in the Panopticon.
—Fine, just fine, is Romana’s reply. —Only…
—Yes?
Romana sighs. —This is embarrassing, to say the least. Do you know if I’ve suffered any head trauma recently? Something significant, more than just a little bump.
Leela’s smile flickers. Leela flickers.
—What’s going on? Romana begins to ask, but
Romana smiles at the crowd of Time Lords in the Panopticon. The vote for the presidential election is just coming in. Chancellor—Chancellor—Chancellor something , Romana is sure, she just can’t quite remember his name. Or hers. Or theirs. Were there any androgynes on the High Council? How embarrassing. She can’t seem to remember.
The Chancellor’s voice is a little fuzzy, but she can tell that she’s won by the chants of Romana! Romana! Romana! echoing from the crowd. She never knew that Time Lords could be so rowdy.
Something doesn’t feel right. None of this is right.
—Where’s Leela? she asks.
—What’s that, my dear? says a sudden voice in her ear. It makes Romana jump.
She looks around to see… to see… to see someone. Yes, she’s fairly certain that the man standing before her is someone . —Where’s Leela ? she says again, loudly.
The man puts his hands over his ears for a moment. —Not so loud, my dear, he tells her, his voice pained. —I can hear you just fine, now. What’s a Leela?
How could he not know who Leela is? Romana wishes that her friend was there with her. —You know who Leela is, don’t you? she says, the smile slipping from her face. —You have to know her. She’s my best friend.
—I’ve never heard of her before, the man says, and Romana can see the genuine confusion on his face.
—Well, then maybe we don’t know each other well enough for you to have met her? she suggests, but even that sounds wrong. Leela is always with her. Anyone who has met Romana has also met Leela. That’s how it works.
The confused smile on the man’s face smoothes into a frown of worry. —No, my dear, he says firmly. —That’s just not possible.
—Really? Romana asks skeptically. —Why not? I certainly don’t remember seeing you around anywhere recently.
The fact of the matter is that Romana can’t remember if she’s seen any of these people around recently, but that’s hardly important right now. Well, it’s very important, she just can’t remember why.
—We’re married, my dear, the man tells Romana. —And I’m finding it rather difficult to not get upset by your rather callous dismissal of me for a made-up woman.
Well. That’s news to Romana. She can’t remember getting married. Sounds like the sort of thing that should stick in your mind, though.
— We’re married? she says, trying to keep the shock out of her voice, rather unsuccessfully. —But— she pauses, trying to come up with a way of telling him that she doesn’t remember him at all, or know his name, or how long they’ve been married, all without sounding too rude. —How terribly rude of me, she finally says. —I appear to have completely forgotten. Would you care to introduce yourself to me? I shall do my utmost to not forget again.
To her surprise, the man gives a rueful smile. —Of course, Romana, he replies. —You’re just having one of your funny spells. Though I can’t for the life of me figure out why you’re so fixated on this Leela person.
—This has happened before? Romana asks.
The man nods. —Of course! Has your entire life, or so you told me shortly after I began courting you. Seventy-five years ago, we were married. Lovely day.
—So I’m Romanadvoratrelundar what , exactly? she asks him.
He stares at her blankly, uncomprehending for a few moments, then realization hits. —Oh! You kept your name and all that. Very modern woman, you are. That’s what I love about you. But sometimes I call you Mrs Arkadian, just because it amuses me. Never thought you’d accept my proposal in the first place.
The name sounds vaguely familiar. —So you are Mr Arkadian? Romana says slowly.
—Mephistopheles Arkadian, he tells her, with a wide grin and a wink. —Reformed villain, now a devoted husband. You love me despite my seven ex-wives and dozens of former lovers.
—And the Time Lords elected me President, even with all of that against me?
He looks surprised. —Whatever do you mean?
Romana sighs and rubs the bridge of her nose. —Seventy-five years is the blink of an eye in Time Lord terms. That wouldn’t be long enough to convince them that you’re reformed. I shouldn’t be in the running! And to add to all that, these memory problems that I seem to be having…
Arkadian blinks. —You got everything smoothed over with the High Council, my dear. Clearly, the people have spoken in your favor. The only person against it on the High Council, from what you told me, was Narvin.
This entire conversation feels wrong to Romana. Something seems off about Arkadian, but she can’t put her finger on what it is. She’s finding it difficult to trust him. But Narvin… Narvin, she trusts. She can’t quite remember what Narvin looks like, but she knows he supports her.
So why was he against her running for president?
—Where is Narvin? she asks.
Arkadian looks at her blankly. —Who?
— Narvin , Romana says, annoyed. —Are you deaf, or just stupid?
—I assure you, I have no idea who you’re talking about, Arkadian replies shortly. —There isn’t anyone I know named Narvin. He looks at her with concern. —Are you sure you don’t need to get to a medbay?
She shrugs off his concern. —I’m fine, she informs him. —But Narvin . You just mentioned him. Where is he? I need to talk to him.
Arkadian opens his mouth to reply, but all that comes out is a garble, like
Romana smiles at the crowd of Time Lords, gathered in the Panopticon. She can’t figure out why she’s so tired. It feels like she’s been awake for weeks. Theoretically, she can go that long, but it certainly has its ill effects.
A Time Lord is reading the results of the election, and Romana is the victor! She shakes her opponent’s hand. They smile tightly at her, and Romana knows there will be battles with them in the future. But it will be alright. She’ll be ready for it when that happens.
The Time Lord who read out the results trundles down from where they were standing. They’re ever so much smaller than Romana realized. And then she recognizes them. —Chancellor K9! she exclaims, unsure if she’s delighted or surprised. Or both.
Error. This unit is malfunctioning . K9’s ears rotate and he begins to make little computing
Romana smiles at the crowd of Time Lords, gripping tightly onto the hand of her new husband. She can’t quite remember how she knows that, but she’s certain it’s him. She turns to bestow her smile on him. She thought he’d shaved off his mustache, but she must have been mistaken. It looks rather stupid, but she can overlook it.
—I hope you haven’t kissed me yet, she murmurs playfully.
An odd expression crosses over his otherwise blissful face. —Whyever not? he asks.
—Your mustache, she replies, laughing.
—What mustache? he asks.
—Why, that mustache, of—oh, she says, her voice trailing off. Her new husband is clean-shaven. He looks very sophisticated. He’s wearing an Earth suit, one that shows him at his most dashing. (If dashing is the right word. Romana isn’t quite sure). She pauses. —Didn’t you used to have a mustache? she asks. —Forgive me if that’s a stupid question.
He laughs, but worry remains in his eyes. —I used to. Notice the tense, Romana. I haven’t had one in decades. You thought I looked… ridiculous. He says the last bit in such a tone as to make Romana aware that it’s still a bit of a sore spot with him, no matter how many decades ago it was.
—Oh. Of course. How silly of me. Romana suddenly has a distinct memory of that occasion. She had laughed at his mustache the first time he tried to kiss her hand. The next day he had shown up clean-shaven.
When had they decided to get married? It was a normal thing for him to want to kiss her hand. She’d long since allowed him to do it. A bit of formal hand-kissing is much different than marriage.
—Where are the best man and the maid of honor? she asks him suddenly. —I don’t see them anywhere. (Gallifreyan weddings do not have such roles, but Romana and her new husband have a certain fondness for Earth and humans. It’s only natural there would be a best man and maid of honor at their wedding).
—Narvin and Leela… left, he replies. He seems to be implying something, but Romana has to raise her eyebrows at him to get him to elaborate, because she honestly can’t see why they would have left.
—They’re… busy. With each other, he adds, trying to sound delicate.
Oh. She thinks she’s figured out what he means. —I had no idea they enjoyed each other that much, she replies.
He gives a small, almost pained, smile. —Indeed. Now, dearest, perhaps we should continue on our merry way?
Romana yawns. She really is so very exhausted. —That sounds like a
Romana smiles at the crowd of Time Lords. She can feel exhaustion suddenly pressing down on her, and she
Romana smiles at the crowd of Time Lords, but they’re not cheering for her. Angry murmurings run through the assembly, and they surge forward as one, as a destructive mob. The smile drops from Romana’s face, and she picks up her staser, barely pausing to wonder at how she got it so quickly. She has no pockets, and it certainly wasn’t in her hand a moment ago. She begins to
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“What did you do to her, Narvin?
“Only what she commanded me. Romana’s perfectly intelligent, I don’t understand what’s going wrong.”
“I thought you were supposed to be intelligent, too. Why can you not understand this?”
“The systems on the Axis aren’t compatible with the controls. It would take time to fix it, or get her out of there. At least that’s one resource we have in abundance. I just don’t know if there’s a limit on how long she’ll last.”
“But where is she? I can see that her body is right here. Why is her mind someplace else?”
“She’s in the Matrix, Leela. We brought the Matrix with us to the Axis, essentially. And she’s trapped inside. I don’t understand—”
“But why is she trapped inside? I do not understand that.”
“She’s trying to find out what’s happened to the Time Lords. A lot has happened since you disappeared. Gallifrey is gone. The Time War—well, it’s over. Finished. Every non-renegade other than Romana and myself is dead. We… well, we couldn’t do anything to save them. We don’t know what happened, just that the planet itself is gone. No debris, no charred remains. It’s as if Gallifrey never existed in the first place.”
“Like with your Oubliette of Eternity?”
“...yes and no. I’m unable to find it at any point in Time, just as if the Oubliette had been used on it. But if the Oubliette erased Gallifrey, then Romana and I wouldn’t exist. You never would have left your tribe. The Doctor would never have existed. Something has happened to Romana. We managed to save the Matrix, before that too blipped into non-existence. She’s trying to find out what happened.”
“And something has gone wrong?”
“To put it lightly. She appears to be reverting in some way, losing grip on her sense of self. Her worn-out subconscious is creating dreamscapes, trapping her in a partition of the Matrix.”
“But why is her… her subconscious worn out?”
“Exhaustion, probably. The Time War changed all of us. I don’t know what all she’s been doing, but I know that recently, she’s been like a walking corpse. I’m just glad we found you before escaping here. I don’t know what I’d do if this happened while I was alone.”
“So she is tired and dreaming, but it is inside the Matrix?”
“Something like that. Her subconscious has taken over. She knows she’s Romana, and there’s probably a revolving cast of characters based on people she knows. She has about as much control over it as the average person has over a dream, which is to say, none at all. Last I checked, she was reliving winning a presidential election over and over, but she’s getting tired. Her brain is resetting anytime it finds an anomaly in the dream. The Matrix is acting as a sort of prison, partitioning her away. It’s sentient, you know. It probably is sensing her exhaustion and is wary of allowing her into the rest of it, in case a Time Lord like Pandora tries to take over her consciousness.
“I thought Pandora was defeated.”
“She is. I was using an example.”
“So how do we get Romana out of there? How do we save her from the Matrix?”
“I… I really don’t know. We’ll just have to keep trying, day after day.”
“Just as Romana is?”
“Something like that.”
Romana smiles at the crowd of Time Lords.