I'm trying to stay close to the canon of Gallifrey as depicted in episodes like 'Deadly Assassin' and 'Invasion of Time.' And then there are these things called BOOKS that put ideas in my HEAD and refuse to apologize.


The Academy constituted a knobby extrusion from the base of the Citadel proper. The entire structure was devoted to the upbringing of young Gallifreyans, but only a few of them would succeed in qualifying as Time Lords. Only the elite took the advanced training.

They stood on a balcony overlooking a broad plaza. It was basically an indoor education mall: the quad of a university set under its roof. Gallifreyan interior architecture fostered the feeling of being inside, yet built up, grandiosely, to prevent claustrophobia.

"Contrary to what impressions you may have gained, the Academy does not foster homogeneity of thought. That would be pointless. To advance in the sciences, the Academy looks for creative young minds and encourages them to expand idiosyncratically. It is our culture that is hidebound. Because of the tremendous power Gallifrey wields, we are expected to act from a base of reason, not react from emotion. That's why Time Lord parties are so very boring, as you have discovered, except for the parts where they're plotting to kill each other." Keludar smiled at Turlough. "Unless I'm wrong and that part is boring as well? How many people want to kill the Doctor? So far, that is, not a total count. I'm sure some of them can dissemble adequately."

Tegan didn't know what to make of his teasing, only that she didn't approve of treating assassination humorously. Especially the Doctor's.

Turlough grimaced. "There are a few who plainly wish he'd drop dead and forget to regenerate."

"I'd worry more about poor Chancellor Flavia. She has to do the dirty work while the Doc–pardon, the Lord President, prattles about reform."

Tegan was stewing. She wanted to attack Keludar's words, but she also agreed with him in part. This place didn't want to change. The Doctor was preaching to the sinners, not the choir, and the spirit wasn't moving them.

"She sounds like the only sensible person around, then. I've only met her once, but she has… dignity, without being pompous."

Keludar eyed her like a cat watching a mouse hole. "It's rare for a woman to rise that high. Whether it is a matter of numerical percentages or ancient bias is a matter of debate."

Turlough said coldly, "Chancellor Flavia strikes me as highly competent and diligent in her duties. Gallifrey is lucky she was there to be a voice of common sense after Borusa's fall."

"You don't have a down on the lady, do you, Keludar?"

"My dear offworld friends–I may call you friends, may I not, at least for the day? You are at the Academy. This is a place where all questions are debated." Keludar spread his hands theatrically. "Not answered, but definitely debated ad infinitum, ad nauseum."

"You often sicken me, Keludar." A student in Prydonian colors approached. He was a little shorter than average, with curly black hair, dark skin, and eyes the color of pale sherry. "I am so sorry that you have come here only to have Keludar stuff your ears with the pap he calls ironic commentary. His pose of jester is pitiful when compared to genuine examples of the archetype."

"Ambirren, what would I do without you to counterpoint my wit? I shine in your company. Allow me to present you to Tegan Jovanka and Vislor Turlough, guests of the Lord President. Esteemed guests, meet Ambirren, pride of the Prydonians. This promising youth is certain to pass his final exams with glowing colors and be highest ranking Time Lord candidate of the class." Keludar delivered this posh intro with his usual cynical gloss.

Tegan had had enough. "So are you two pals or enemies or what? I think you don't know yourselves which it is."

Turlough stifled a laugh, but not his smirk.

Ambirren raised an eyebrow. His round face and striking coloring ought to have made him seem warm and approachable, but his attitude was only polite, not friendly.

Keludar laughed, and for a wonder it sounded real. "Why, Tegan, Gallifrey needs all the Time Lords she can breed up. Why should we be rivals, or friends? Perhaps you will tell us which we are, once you know us better." He offered his arm.

- o - O - o -

Being escorted around the Academy by the two students was like visiting Purgatory with an angel on one side and a devil on the other. Tegan wasn't sure which was which. Keludar made her laugh with his quips and his own willingness to laugh. Ambirren was a better guide. He had a gift for explaining advanced scientific concepts so that Tegan got the gist of what was being said. She didn't ask many questions. Turlough did, his pale face as animated with excitement as she'd ever seen it. Tegan wondered if he dreamed of staying on Gallifrey and studying here, of becoming the first non-Gallifreyan Time Lord.

It seemed natural that Turlough and Ambirren should walk ahead together, leaving Tegan and Keludar to tag behind.

Keludar bent close to her ear; the breath of his words stirred Tegan's hair. "Lord President's pet," he murmured insinuatingly.

Thinking he meant her, Tegan immediately glared at him.

Keludar grinned. "Not you–unless you are. Are you the Doctor's pet?"

Tegan snorted, not impressed by his provocation. "Don't try to so hard to bait me. Who do you mean?"

He indicated Ambirren with a brief hand wave. The pieces fell into place. Ambirren had inserted himself on this trip to curry favor with the Doctor. Politics, again. Now she wondered if Turlough's bright-eyed reaction was sincere or a pose.

They were standing on another overlook, a footbridge passing by a larger than usual open space. It was full of Gallifreyans engaging in organized sport. They were all short. "What am I looking at? Why are they all so… small… bloody hell. Those are children."

The nearest child, a girl, looked up towards Tegan with an air of cool consideration. "What is bloody hell?" she inquired, fixing Tegan with an intent gaze. Only a child would pick up the exact words she wasn't supposed to hear and store them for later use.

"It is a place of eternal torment, much like the oubliettes on Shada. Only noisier and messier," Keludar explained helpfully.

"It sounds primitive and disgusting," the girl said dismissively. She transferred her gaze briefly to Tegan, as if extending the same opinion to her, and then went back to her ball bouncing game.

Keludar led Tegan away while she was still sputtering. "Sorry. The newly Loomed tend to be narrow-minded. It's the result of the standardized education process. Their brains are being imprinted with basic knowledge. There's not much difference between Loomlings."

"Loomlings? I don't understand." Tegan knew already that she wasn't going to be happy once she understood.

- o - O - o -

Tegan cornered the Doctor in his private office and had at him. "They were playing like they were posing for pictures, not like they were enjoying themselves. What kind of childhood is that?" Tegan couldn't help pleading with the Doctor. She didn't know what she expected him to do about the millennia old customs of his planet. She had come to him as a last resort, being more and more upset the more she thought about those stolid little faces.

"They didn't laugh or smile or run or shout or hit each other. I know they're being raised to be ethical, but what about learning to enjoy … just being alive?"

"They were exercising, Tegan." The Doctor settled into the high-backed chair behind his desk. The chair and desk were massive things. The material might have been wood, but it was carved so precisely and with such smooth grain that it might have been equally have been stone. It was black and gleaming and massive and said that the owner was a Very Important Person, Indeed.

Tegan walked around behind it and right into the Doctor's space. She was not going to be a penitent before authority here. "Exercising? Why bother? Is there a Gallifreyan football league?"

"They are being fed massive amounts of information. We are still flesh and blood beings, Tegan, despite our advanced science. They need to integrate their knowledge with physical experience. The bouncing of a ball is as much an experiment in applied physics as it is a game."

The Doctor ran his hands slowly through his hair. He looked suddenly so weary that Tegan almost regretted bringing the subject up. She noticed that his chair, as ornate as it was, had no padding at all. "The seat of the mighty looks pretty hard," Tegan said, hoping to make him smile.

"What?" He lifted his head, surprised if not smiling. "Oh, this old thing. It was commissioned by a President with an expanded idea of his own importance. It indeed had cushions, but one of his successors removed them. He said that the chair and desk performed their function well, but that the cushions encouraged the occupant to feel too comfortable."

Tegan put out a hand, meaning to pat his shoulder and say something cheerful, but the chair got in the way. It was throne-like, and did not encourage a close approach to its occupant. She'd practically have to stick her hand in his face to do it.

"Getting up from the chair and getting out from behind the desk sound like healthy ideas to me. Doctor… I've seen you play games and have fun. Didn't you do that as a child?"

"I learned it later, Tegan. I understand that our reproductive arrangement is strange to you, but childhood is not a one-size-fits-all concept. It wasn't so long before your time that human children were held to adult standards at very young ages."

"I know, but the Looms… they're never even babies." The children were removed from the incubators at roughly the equivalent human age of eleven. Tegan tried to keep down tears. Aliens, they were aliens. It was wrong of her to expect them to be like humans. She looked at the Doctor. He'd never been a helpless baby, never been held and rocked and bathed and played with. No one had tested the grip of his tiny fist, or laughed when he tried to suck his own toes.

"It must seem very strange to you. I've met a few babies. They were rather charming."

Tegan heard the sympathy in his voice. She should leave him alone and not trouble him with this any more. Only, "But Leela and Andred, they're… together. I mean, if you have the Looms…" Tegan trailed off seeing where the conversation was headed. "Never mind. None of my business, after all, hey? You look dead tired, Doctor. I'm sorry I bothered you."

She started to back away, but the Doctor rose from his chair and restrained her, his hands on her shoulders. "Tegan, it's culture shock. Humans and Gallifreyans have both similarities and differences, and even after centuries humans still surprise me. I have been exposed to the customs of thousands of different worlds, and I am not immune to the fallacy of expecting people who look like me to be like me." Smiling, he patted her shoulders. "You know enough of the Australian Aborigines to be fluent in one of their languages. Aren't they different from the people of European stock that you come from?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't really help here." Tegan slipped away from under his hands, giving him a rueful smile. "Don't worry, I'll cope. Indestructible, that's me."

"I shan't argue. Only remember, Tegan, you aren't a bother. You're my friend. It's interesting for me to see my world through your eyes. Turnabout is fair play and all that. I've certainly been free with my opinions of Earth customs. I count on you to be no less frank."

That brought a laugh from Tegan. "You can count on that."

tbc