Chapter Text
Arkytior of Lungbarrow realised very early that afternoon that something was wrong. In the classrooms and corridors of the Academy, she heard students whispering and talking, insistent, excited and distrustful. Even the professors seemed to have their minds elsewhere: their words echoed hollowly in the stone lecture halls, their hands moved mechanically over the blackboards and instruments, and their expressions were absent, distracted. Outside, in the city, a strange nervousness had spread through the streets. People avoided speaking, or, if they did, it was a few words spoken in haste half-mouthed, as if not to be heard, before everyone went back to their own business - which was a polite way of saying they were going to hide before the storm came.
And through it all, the rumour continued to spread and mount, insistent, monotonous and ever more diffuse, like a storm silently mounting to the sky.
Something had happened at the Capitol.
Something had happened to the President.
And Theta of Lungbarrow was involved.
Arkytior tried as much as possible to ignore those rumours, concentrating on her studies and the exams she was due. He tried not to notice the shifty glances of his companions, the murmurs behind her back, her own suspicions lurking in the margins of his mind. It wasn't easy, but she managed to get through the day without incident and without being too worried. She knew that answers were waiting for her at home, and now she thought she was ready to hear them.
As soon as she arrived, her grandfather called her into his study. Arkytior obeyed. Her grandfather was sitting at the desk in the large red-walled room, his back resting against the back of the tall velvet-lined chair. As soon as he saw her, he stood up, came to her and embraced her, holding her tightly. Arkytior in turn spread her arms wide, and tried to comprehend the man's entire chest as she nestled her head in the hollow of his grandfather's shoulders, clutching him as if to drown in the warmth of his presence. Grandfather and grandaughter remained like that for a while, reluctant to break away and face the reality of their situation. Eventually, the old man loosened the embrace and invited the girl to sit down. He took a seat next to her, on a chair opposite his desk, and sighing, took her hands.
"Arkytior," he began, looking into her eyes, "now I want you to listen to me carefully. You have an important decision to make, and I want you to make it knowing what you are up against." She nodded, and her grandfather continued. "The President is dead. No, I did not kill him. Yes ... I participated in the events that caused what happened, along with ..." the old man took a big breath "... to your godfather, Koschei." He paused, waiting for Arkytior's reaction. There was none. "Don't ... don't you want to know what happened?"
"No," Arkytior said, resolute. "I don't need to. I know you, Grandfather, and I know that whatever happened, you tried your best so that no one would get hurt. You don't need to justify yourself to me."
The old man seemed grateful for this answer, and fondly stroked Arkytior's cheek, before continuing. "Now, my dear, you will understand that I cannot stay. There will be an enquiry, and even if the judges were lenient, I am afraid, Arkytior. I am afraid of what they may do, not only to me, but to you. There is only us left, my dear, and I intend to take care of you. On the other hand, I know you have your life here, your friends, your studies ... and unlike me, you are innocent ..."
"No."
"No what?"
"No, grandfather, I don't intend to stay here. You said it: we are all that is left to each other. I'm going with you."
"My dear, think it over. I do not know where I am going. My plan, just so you know, is to steal one of the TARDIS being repaired from the warehouse and drive it so that it passes through the planet's protective barrier, after which ... after which I have only a vague idea of where I will go and what I will do."
"We could join Uncle Brax," suggested Arkytior. His grandfather's lips tensed slightly (a sign that he did not particularly like the idea), but he said nothing and preferred to continue.
'Even if we did, my dear, you would find yourself in a place you do not know. I am old, my dear, this body of mine is getting thin and it may be that soon ... you understand. You've got a life ahead of you, you've never even been to our moon, and you don't ... you don't ... It's not that I don't want you with me, mind you, but I fear for what the journey might hold. I can deal with it, but I'm not going to take you with me if it means I'm going to lead you to your death."
"What is the alternative?" wanted to know Arkytior. Not that he was actually considering it, but since her grandfather seemed determined to dissuade her, she at least wanted to know what other option he was presenting her with.
"I spoke to Borusa. He said he is willing to take you under his protection: no one will even touch you with a finger. He will personally see to it that you finish your studies and take your place in the life of the Capitol, so that you can live a normal life on ..."
"A normal life?" asked Arkytior, spitting out the word as if it were an insult. "When has my life ever been normal, Grandfather? With all I've been through, all I've been through ... all we've been through! And you now ask me ..."
"Arkytior, try to calm down, and ..."
"No, Grandfather! No! Don't ask me to calm down and reason! There's nothing for me to reason about! Nothing! I've already lost Father and Mother, and you've lost Grandmother! I'm not staying on this planet one second longer if it means staying without you! And you, grandfather, you ... how can you ask me to stay after all your stories about the outside world? After all we've read together, seen together, about what the universe has to offer us beyond the barrier of protection, you ask me to stay? No, no way! I'm going with you!"
"If you come, I won't be able to protect you if they find us! We'd both be guilty! That way ..."
"I don't care! I don't want to be the last of us! I don't want ... I don't want to be alone!" and Arkytior's voice broke on these words, as the girl began to cry. "You mentioned friends earlier: what friends? I have no friends at school, not real friends, at least! I'm the odd girl out, the unfortunate one at the centre of intrigues and conspiracies, the one best left alone because it's bad luck! Trust me, Grandfather, there won't be many things I'll regret leaving the Academy."
"What the ... and you never told me?" asked the old man, incredulously. "Arkytior! You should have told me! I ..."
"It is too late now, Grandfather," the girl shook her head. "My decision is made. I'm going with you, no matter what happens to us. We are a family, and families stick together."
The elderly man opened his mouth, made to retort, but then lowered his head with a resigned grimace, which soon after opened into a smile. "Stubborn as your grandmother ..." he commented, shaking his head amusedly, and rising to embrace her again, with true, immeasurable affection. "So be it, my dear. It will mean that I shall exercise double caution, for you and for me. But we must be quick: go up to your room and get ready. By tonight we must be away from here, before the guards arrive."
Arkytior nodded and stood up. She was almost about to leave the room, when a thought struck her, a sudden intuition.
"Grandfather ..."
"Yes?"
"Call me Susan."
"What?"
"When we leave ... away from here ... call me Susan. Susan Foreman," she added, letting the name linger on the tip of her tongue, its strange and yet familiar sound hanging in the air between the two of them. The old man looked at her, intrigued, then nodded with conviction.
"But yes, you're right, after all, we'll need new names if we're to go into hiding. Susan Foreman it is," he concluded, clapping his hands. "In fact, now that you mention it, I too need a name to hide behind ... something to introduce myself with, to hide my identity with ... yes, I definitely need that."
"Do you already have an idea?" asked Arkytior, curious.
"Well ..." reflected the elder, stroking his chin with his hands. To his surprise, he didn't have to think much about it. For him as for Susan, the answer seemed to come from a hidden corner of the mind, where it had remained until this moment, waiting patiently for its own moment. And as soon as it got there, it seemed so right, so exact, that he had no doubts. He straightened his back, brought his hands to the flaps of his jacket, and with the pride of a general, after so long, again gave voice to words that had remained silent for too long.
"I will be the Doctor."
*
It was the early hours of the night when the two silently slipped out of the house. The Doctor closed the door carefully, waiting to hear every lock click, every device go off. Not that it would have mattered much (the guards would have opened easily), but it gave him a very pleasant sense of security, of familiarity. Together, the old man and the girl walked in silence to the warehouse. Susan had stuffed her few belongings into a bag she carried over her shoulder, while the Doctor's luggage followed them, floating in the air. When she had seen the strange rectangular object, too big for a simple suitcase, Susan had tried to ask what it was, but the Doctor had quickly shushed her.
The city was quiet, but not peaceful. The murmurs and voices of the afternoon had been replaced by a nervous, subterranean tension, similar to that of a sky before a storm. Behind closed windows and locked doors, people waited fearfully for the unfolding of by far the most dangerous situation Gallifrey had experienced in a long time. The two fugitives tried to ignore it, but even with their best efforts they could not avoid glancing over their shoulders at least a couple of times to make sure they were not being followed.
Finally, they reached the warehouse door. The Doctor sank a hand inside his cloak, down to his trousers, and searched silently for the copy of the key. It had been Borusa's last gift, the old teacher's last demonstration of affection to his pupil. Calmly, the Doctor carefully adjusted the mechanism of the key against the lock, trying not to make the slightest noise, while Susan stood guard. Now, it would have taken very little to set off the alarm and ruin everything. Fortunately, it didn't: on the first attempt, the hangar door opened, without a sound. The Doctor and Susan slipped inside, quickly, and the Doctor closed the door behind them, before allowing himself a sigh of relief and a self-congratulatory chuckle.
"Smooth as silk, my dear, eh? Couldn't have been better!"
"Don't sing victory, Grandfather. We still have to get out of here."
"I know, I know, but let's show some appreciation for small victories, eh? Now, we just have to choose our means of transport," the old man continued, pushing a switch on the wall and turning on the light. To Susan's astonished eyes, an immense hall was revealed, filled with three rows of TARDISes, all juxtaposed against the wall and encased in cables. Attached to the walls, amidst the ships, were repair kits, filled with every useful tool to put the time and space machines in need of repair. Even in the excitement and haste of the escape, Susan admired the grandeur and efficiency of the area.
"So, let's proceed with the choice, hm?" suggested her grandfather, moving hastily through the rows of ships with the enthusiasm of a kid in a candy shop. Susan followed him meekly, in turn intrigued by the spectacle, and honestly also excited at the prospect of a trip into space. She might not always share her grandfather's passion for getting into trouble, but she could not deny that she had often imagined what it would be like to simply fly off the planet and see the universe (she would just have preferred to do it under other circumstances).
The two of them wandered the rows of machinery, trying to figure out what would be the best solution. The Doctor put on airs that he knew what he was doing, but Susan, who knew him well, could clearly see that her grandfather was actually as lost as she was. Neither of them really understood the TARDIS, and neither had the slightest idea how to make the choice. In the end, it would come down to pure, simple intuition and luck, as was always the case when her grandfather was involved.
"How about this, Grandfather?" asked Susan, pointing to one. It was a Type 40, tall, imposing, but also very dented, judging by the amount of wiring attached to it. An old model, the use of which would have been a threat to the safety of the passengers, the Doctor declared.
"Better this one!" exclaimed the Doctor, concentrating on the one next to it: a Type 53, much more modern and also better put together, with few cables attached to it and a much shinier outer wall. "Yes, definitely better. It will also be easier to understand the controls, as it is more recen ..."
A scream from Susan interrupted the Doctor's monologue, causing him to turn away, worried. He was already ready to scold her if it was a minor matter, but what he saw made the words die in his throat. A man had grabbed Susan, and was pressing her mouth with his hand to prevent her from screaming, while pointing a small, rectangular, metal object at her head. The man was of sturdy build, and had a full face, with thick, light brown hair and beard and eyes glittering with intelligence; he could have passed for a good person, had he not had that strange light in his eyes, that hard, cruel line of his lips. He was a man the Doctor knew well.
"Are you leaving without saying goodbye, Theta?"
"You!" roared the Doctor, taking a step towards him. "What are you doing here?"
"Did you think I was going to stay here quietly and take the blame for everything?" replied the other, tightening his grip on Susan's mouth. "That you could leave undisturbed, leaving me to face the result of our action? After you gave me the idea?"
"After I ..." the Doctor began, swelling with anger and indignation. "You're not seriously accusing me! I was joking!"
"Then you should be more careful how you talk next time," sneered the other. "You know, to avoid unpleasant consequences."
"Harm her and you'll get nothing from me, Koschei" hissed the Doctor, narrowing his eyes.
"That is entirely up to you," continued the other, also lowering his voice in a threatening tone. 'I don't intend to do anything to my goddaughter at all, if you give me what I want. Do you want to leave? I'm coming with you."
"No way!"
"Then none of us are leaving! We'll stay here and face Gallifreyan justice, and little Arkytior will do the little pretty thing ... aargh!" shouted Koschei, as Susan sank her teeth into his hand, biting him with all her strength. Koschei then tried to grab her neck, but Susan kicked him in the shins. Koschei ducked, getting down on his knees, and Susan ran to her grandfather.
"Quick, my dear! Into the TARDIS!" the Doctor encouraged her. Susan obeyed and was just about to enter, when she heard a sharp sound, a metallic whistle, behind her. She pulled back just in time: the TARDIS Type 53 in front of her contracted rapidly, shrinking to the size of a doll's house within five minutes. Behind her back, Koschei grinned.
'A pity the cameras are out, eh? Gives me all the time I need to reduce every single TARDIS you decide to take, unless I go up too, that is."
"Ugly ..." the Doctor began, moving a step towards him, only to have Koschei point the TCE at him.
"Want to tempt fate further, Theta? That's fine with me, but I guarantee your chances of coming out on top are very slim. Consider carefully what you want to do, my old friend."
"You should listen to him."
The three Time Lords jolted as the woman emerged from her hiding place, into the ranks of the TARDISes, her hair of dark blonde curls contributing to her strange aura in the darkness of the hangar. She had wide hips and a dark dress, which combined with her deep, low voice made her seem like an almost otherworldly apparition.
"Give him what he wants, Doctor. Let him come with you."
"And why should I, hm? While we're at it, who are you, young lady, and how did you get in here? Is this by any chance your doing?" he then added, turning to Koschei.
"I assure you that this lady's presence has nothing to do with me," Koschei affirmed. "Which is a pity, for under other circumstances I would gladly have deepened my knowledge of her."
"Always the flatterer, Master," replied the stranger, ironically treading on the last word. "Leave the charm, it never worked on me, sweetie."
"W-what ... how ...?" tried to ask the Doctor, increasingly amazed at the turn of the conversation. "What the heck is going on?"
"There's no time to explain," retorted the stranger. "You must leave, and now, all three of you. Someone is going to raise the alarm, and if they find you here, the consequences will not only be dire for you."
"And I suppose you're going to ask us now to take you at your word, aren't you? To trust us without question?" continued the Doctor, growing more heated. "No, that's out of the question! I'm not going to do a damn thing unless you tell me this instant who you are, why you're interested in our affairs, and, above all, why I should take him with us!"
"Stubborn as ever ..." sighed the stranger, rolling her eyes. "River Song, alright? My name is River Song, and, even if you don't believe it yet, I'm one of the most important people in your life, Doctor. Now, do as I say!"
"I'm afraid that's not good enough, Miss Song," insisted the Doctor.
"Oh come on Theta!" snorted Koschei. "We don't have time right now to argue. If the lady will come with us, we may ask her later; in any case we must ..."
"You shut up!" muttered the Doctor. "Unbelievable, I manage to get a chance from Borusa, and ..."
"Grandfather, we should do as River says."
Until that moment, Susan had been silent. She had watched the worsening quarrel between her grandfather and her godfather anxiously, wishing to intervene, but unsure if her intervention would really improve the situation. When newcomer - River - appeared, however, Susan had felt a sudden sense of calm descend upon her. In the way she spoke, in her movements, in the look she gave her grandfather and her, there was something that instinctively prompted Susan to trust River, to assume that she really was there to help them. She couldn't have said exactly what, it was more a strange air ... like River was family.
"What are you saying, my dear?"
"Grandfather ..." began Susan. "I don't know how to explain it, but I ... I feel that River wants to help us. You know, one of those feelings I told you about, when ..."
"When you feel intensely that someone wants to help or deceive you and you're usually right," River completed for her. Her mouth had melted into an affectionate smile, the warmth of which lit up her entire face. 'If you're in doubt about someone's intentions, the best person to ask is Susan. Her intuition is never wrong," she continued, in a phrase that made the Doctor's eyes go wide. That was what he had said many times, to many people, family and otherwise! How did that woman ...
"Yes," nodded Susan, also surprised. "Yes, I ... I am sure of it. It's not a rational feeling, I can't explain it, but I know you want to help us, that you're here for us."
"Touching," commented Koschei sarcastically. "Well, if that's settled, I'd say we can proceed. I don't feel like ..."
The hangar glowed purple as a piercing sound ripped through the air, prompting Susan to bring her hands to her ears. The Doctor and Koschei hurried to look around, suddenly alarmed, as River pulled a laser pistol from who-knows-where, pointing it at the door.
"Go!" he shouted. "The guards won't take long to arrive, and they mustn't find you here! Get in the Type 40 and run!"
"The Type 40?" asked the Doctor, surprised. "But it's a piece of junk!"
"Oh no, it just has a bit knackered navigation system, but I guarantee you'll have a lot more fun," River winked at him. "And in any case, I don't think you really have time to argue about it! Get on the ship now!"
"Yes, ma'am!" exclaimed Koschei, rushing into the Type 40. With an irritated snort, the Doctor motioned for his luggage to float into the TARDIS, and ordered Susan to follow it. The girl obeyed, but the Doctor did not follow her: he stood there, staring at River with suspicion and distrust.
"What is it?" she exclaimed.
"Who are you?"
"Seriously? Now?"
"Don't think that because you've helped us now, I trust you or am convinced, Miss Song. I demand ..."
A punch to the stomach, delivered with precision, stopped the Doctor's tirade; as the elderly Time Lord recovered, River, displaying truly uncommon strength, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and shoved him into the TARDIS, almost sending him crashing into the console, much to Koschei's amusement.
"More and more convinced I want to get to know you better, River Song!" laughed Koschei, before closing the TARDIS doors. "Au revoir, then!"
"Grandfather, are you all right?" worried Susan, running up beside him.
"Yes, yes, yes, help me up ... Koschei!" he then barked. "Get your hands off those controls!"
"And why? Between the two of us, I'm the one who didn't fail the driving test! And counting what a state this antique is in ..."
A roar interrupted the discussion and caused the lights in the control room to flicker. In silence, the Doctor walked over to the console and pressed the buttons to activate the scanner. A section of the wall detached, allowing the three travellers to see what was happening outside. River stood in front of their TARDIS, her gun raised against a dozen Chancellor's guards, all with weapons pointed at her. At their head, there was a man, dressed in a black sweatshirt and hoodie, small with silver hair and sparse unkempt beard, grinning in a way that sent a chill down the spines of all three of them.
"Koschei ..." said the Doctor, this time no longer angry. "Get us out of here."