Setting Out
The following morning dealt the reluctant colonists their next serious blow, as word swept through the crowd that one of the citizens who had been outside the Council Chamber during the Dalek attack had died during the night of his wounds, without regenerating.
"What does this mean?" Romana asked the healer Dashok sharply, echoing the question on everyone's lips. "Can we no longer regenerate at all? Have we lost that ability?"
"Apparently so, Lady. I was with him until the end. He tried to enter the regen cycle repeatedly, but to no avail; no vortex particles responded. Since we have no TARDISes, no vortexes of any kind, there is no source for them, and whatever particles we brought across within ourselves were insufficient in this case, at least. I can make no promises either way for anyone else."
Romana, along with everyone else in earshot, was rocked. What other changes were in store for the erstwhile Lords of Time?
She slowly drew herself up to her feet again, breathing heavily, forcing calm, and looked around at the shock mirrored on the faces nearby. "Well," she began slowly. "This is going to take some time to absorb. In the meantime..." Noticing no-one directly beside the deceased, she asked Dashok, "He had no relatives here?" When he shook his head, she sighed, and then pitched her voice for the crowd again. "Forgive me, my people, I know this is harsh. But we cannot linger here. Our brother must be mourned without benefit of the full ceremony."
Quietly, then, she instructed four nearby men to take the body and place it under the lee of the closest of the rock walls hastily constructed the day before, and then topple it over him. When that was done, she spoke the ritual words of farewell over his makeshift tomb, then solemnly turned and began to walk resolutely towards the western lip of the plateau. She didn't look back, but her ultra-sharp hearing told her the rest of the refugees were passing by the grave in silence before following her lead.
A few hundred steps later, she glanced to her left and found Timmony, the naturalist, had come up beside her, and was silently pointing a slight adjustment to her path, to edge them nearer the rounded hill slightly north of due west. She nodded and shifted, then glanced back again with a small smile. "Can you guide us the entire route?"
She was relieved when he immediately nodded back. "I believe so, Lady. I was reviewing it mentally during the night. It's a fairly straight shot, with only a few small turns along the way."
"Good. I need you to take on another related function, as well." She turned and glanced back, seeing the refugees already strung out in a long line. "We'll inevitably sort ourselves out as we go, with those in better physical shape gaining ground on the others. Wait an hour or so, then take the group in the lead up ahead with you at a faster pace to scout the way. Find a good, sheltered spot for us to stop for the night, hopefully with water available, and then begin gathering firewood and food. Hopefully you'll begin finding enough for two meals: an evening meal when we stop, and another in the morning before we set out."
Timmony nodded again. "At least we can be assured that job will become easier the further west we go. How far do you think we can go in a day?"
She grimaced. "Nowhere near as far as we should. Let's plan on just a few miles today. How far is it to the bottom of the first valley?"
"There's a fairly steep slope down into the head of Shevia Valley – we're about to come to the top of it. If I recall correctly, there was a small side canyon just a few miles away from the lip that would be a good place to stop and shelter."
"Good. Aim for that with your team, then, and get a campsite prepared."
"Yes, Lady!" Tossing her a salute, he began lengthening his stride to pull ahead.
"Lady, may I make a suggestion?" came from behind. Romana turned to see another woman walking swiftly up to catch her, and she nodded, "Of course."
"Don't let all the fast ones pull ahead and leave the slow ones behind. Pair them off and have them help each other. We must all arrive together, or not at all."
"Good thinking." Deliberately slowing her own pace, Romana began alternating, sending every other able-bodied walker back towards the rear, while letting the rest go ahead to catch Timmony. When she found herself at the head of the obviously slower-walking group, she sped up again to stay at their vanguard, glancing behind every few minutes to make sure no-one was straggling too far behind. The last third of the group were walking in obvious pairs, as each of the elderly or infirm found an escort.
"It's good to see us working together again," Tis'hania commented at her shoulder. "I've been on the Council for so long, where we seemed to be ever at each other's throats. I wouldn't have wagered some of us could remember how to cooperate after all this time."
Romana grinned back at the older woman. "Existential crises do have a way of focusing the attention, don't they?" she asked drolly.
^..^
By the time they reached the side canyon, even Romana's feet and calves were sore, but at last everyone hobbled up under the trees crowding the canyon's entrance. The latecomers were guided first to a large spring and handed a makeshift "cup" made from a gently-folded cannis leaf (Romana was pleasantly amused at herself for remembering the name of the oversize foliage) to quench their thirst, then to a group of fires already cheerfully crackling, with mounds of the same edible roots and leaves they had eaten the night before.
"Enough for a morning meal, as well, Lady!" Timmony proclaimed proudly.
She smiled back gratefully. "You've done well, Timmony. You're hired!" And he laughed and wandered away in search of his own spot, then Dashok stepped up to take his place.
"Lady, a word with you?" She nodded and he sank down next to her.
Tis'hania spoke up from a pace away. "I think that's your answer, Romana." At the puzzled return glance, she indicated the healer. "They've dropped the 'President', as you requested. But you're the only one being called Lady – or Lord – any more. I think that's your new title."
Romana considered. "I can think of worse. So be it." She turned back to Dashok and gestured him to go ahead. When he glanced fleetingly at Tis'hania, the only one close enough to hear if they spoke quietly, she nodded again, indicating her trust in her companion.
"I am... concerned about something," he began. "To speak bluntly, Lady, if we are to create a viable colony and eventually repopulate this world, especially if we can no longer regenerate, then we must not only survive, we must reproduce. And since the looms we've come to rely on these past centuries are back in the other universe, forever beyond our reach, that means we have to do it naturally, by bearing and raising children."
Romana's eyebrows had risen to nearly her hairline. "Can we even do so any more?"
"Some have, Lady, even in recent years." He gestured towards Tis'hania. "Not all of us abandoned our biology back on our other world. I've even managed to help deliver a baby or two – though it's been a while, I admit."
"Was there any truth to the old story of a curse?"
"Not that I know of. Looming was adopted over the centuries as an easier means to the end of reproduction, for those who didn't want to go the natural route, and slowly became the primary method. But unless we evolved out of it – and there was no selection pressure that I know of to do so – most of us here should still be capable of it." He paused, then gave her a grim smile. "We'd better be, at any rate."
Romana took a deep breath, then blew it out slowly. "That... is a huge proposition."
"But necessary." He took his own deep breath, then plunged ahead. "And there's more, Lady. In order to maximize our survival at a species level, we need to do everything we can to preserve and pass on the genetic code of every individual here. We must make our gene pool as wide and varied as we can, given this bottleneck we face."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that we must set the standard for every woman to bear several children... and to different fathers." He held up a hand to stay both women's startled reactions. "I know. It goes against all our traditions and taboos. But it's vital to our long-term survival. We can't just pass along the genes of those men lucky enough to find mates. We need to pass along those of every male, and mix them up to the greatest extent we can, as well."
Romana stared. "And how can we do that? It's against everything we believe about fidelity and bonding."
"I know, I know. But we must. Somehow we must make 'cheating' the norm – the expected norm, rather than the shameful aberration it is now." He grimaced. "First of all, we'd better start calling it something other than the word 'cheating'."
Romana shook her head emphatically. "I just can't imagine any of us taking it that calmly."
"Well..." Tis'hania began thoughtfully. "I think it's safe to assume that every aspect of our lives is going to become a group endeavor, from gathering or growing food, to everything else we'll be doing. I can't see the rearing of children being any different. What I mean to say is, I don't think we'll be seeing autonomous family units any time soon. With everyone of all ages mixing constantly together, and everyone taking care of whichever child happens to be closest, the exact parentage of each will become just a bit less important, won't it?"
"Are you proposing group marriages, too?"
"No, I don't think our method of bonding will stretch that far – but it might. No, I'm speaking of other aspects of our social lives." She sighed. "Our very concepts of bonding and fidelity will have to change, along with everything else."
The trio fell silent for a while, considering. Then Romana turned to Dashok again. "Have you spoken of this to anyone else?" He shook his head, and she sighed. "I don't think most of them can deal with this right away – this is simply too radical a change, on top of all the other radical changes we're facing at the moment. Let's keep this between us until we get to Crystal Bay."
Dashok nodded and rose to his feet, leaving the two women to their thoughts. After a beat, Romana caught Tis'hania's eyes again. "I knew the Doctor was your son, of course, but for some reason, it never dawned on me that he was natural-born. You're the only woman I can think of at all that I knew went through that. What was it like?"
Tis'hania's eyes went unfocused, and a tiny, painful smile crossed her lips as she recalled those long-ago days. "Difficult. It wasn't easy, for many reasons – the social ones most of all, even though we were living mostly apart from society. It was quite a scandal, in fact. But even physically, it was difficult. I..." She looked straight back at her companion again, and forced herself to say the next words. "It was the most wonderful, meaningful thing I've ever done. I wouldn't undo it for anything. But I must tell you, Romana... it was also dangerous. I became pregnant again a few years later, but that time... I lost the baby. And I almost died. I never tried again after that."
Romana was shocked. "You almost died? Then... I forbid you to try again now. You mustn't. I won't lose you!" The sudden, fierce feeling of protectiveness for this woman she hardly knew, even though they'd been acquainted for decades, surprised even herself.
Tis'hania gave her another small, wistful smile, then reached over and squeezed the younger woman's hand. Then she turned back to her meal, closing the subject. Romana stared at her a moment longer before she did the same, trying to ignore the vague feeling of unease that hung over her shoulders. We've got enough to worry about right now without borrowing more trouble. Suddenly restless, she put her small pile of leaves aside for later and got to her feet, ignoring those appendages' protests, and began making her rounds of the campfires, making sure everyone had been fed and watered, letting herself be seen and heard. By the time she returned, her companion was asleep, curled up on her side, head resting on her arms. Romana lay down behind her for warmth, backs touching, and fell almost instantly into the deep, dreamless sleep of exhaustion.
