Fic: A Family Affair (1/3)
Title: A Family Affair
Fandom: the "Gallifrey" audio series
Rating: PG/gen
Length: 19424 words
Spoilers: set between 3.4 "Mindbomb" and 3.5 "Panacea", with no spoilers for series 4
Characters: Narvin, Leela, K9, Romana, OCs
Summary: my morepolitics entry for ficciones, whose prompt was "Leela and Narvin in something buddy-cop style. Preferably with hijinks" - it is certainly a buddycop story, but maybe a little short of hijinks.
Note #1: aralias didn't just beta this monster even though she still had her own fic to finish, she also provided virtual hand-holding services while I wibbled excessively about it. She rocks :)
Note #2: I "borrowed" the name of Narvin's House from none other than ficciones because I like it. Other than that the fic is obviously based on "Invasion of Time" to some degree, but also to two small lines in "Panacea". There, Leela expects that Narvin wants to see her to revoke her official status as bodyguard, and Matthias tells Valyes that he needn't complain about Leela because the visa review is coming up. Epic fic about the visa application process on Gallifrey! Just what you've always wanted! No, thank god that's not really what this about.
A Family Affair
It was three days after Lord Matthias became President of Gallifrey, and Narvin was finally approaching the lower strata of the mountain of post on his desk. He’d been working on his correspondence during his quieter hours. Compared to the hectic High Council sessions, paperwork was a blessed relief. A year ago, Narvin might have enjoyed the present atmosphere among the chapters. Even those High Council members who had been firm supporters of Romana’s reforms before the civil war now spoke much more cautiously. Everyone seemed eager to return to a pre-war and pre-Romana status quo, as if all that unpleasantness could simply be swept under the carpet and forgot. Valyes’s confirmation as Chancellor had been welcomed almost unanimously. Sadly, Narvin couldn’t share the enthusiasm of his peers. Valyes’s particular brand of conservatism had seemed outmoded even before the war, and now it was outright reactionary. At best, it could be called wishful thinking, and at worst it was just another form of dangerous radicalism.
The dislike between Narvin and Valyes was mutual, and perhaps not so much political as personal. Narvin resented the incessant little jabs directed at him for his association with Romana during the war and the subsequent presidential election. Just this morning when Narvin had run into Valyes on his way from the president’s office, Valyes had, in his usual circuitous way, inquired how Leela was these days.
“I wouldn’t know, I haven’t seen her since Romana was put under house arrest,” Narvin had answered, truthfully but nevertheless annoyed, and Valyes had said, “Of course, of course,” in a meaningful way, irritating Narvin even further.
Not much later, while working on his correspondence, Narvin had discovered the reason for Valyes’s smugness. It was a memo from Matthias regarding the annual visa review for foreign citizens on Gallifrey. Matthias’s brisk note simply said, “Look into this, Valyes keeps bugging me about it”. Narvin couldn’t tell what annoyed him more about it - that Valyes would be so petty to carry on the grudge he had formed against Leela during her time as tutor, or that Matthias would give in so easily.
One thing was true, however. The visa review was overdue, and it was CIA business. Narvin would take care of it, but not in the way they wanted him to. His first impulse had been to go to Matthias and tell him that it was well beyond a Chancellor’s power to tell the CIA how they ought to do their work, but then he had come up with a much more elegant solution.
He sent one of his agents to find Leela, and then continued with his work, ever so slightly cheered by the prospect of the look on Valyes’s face when he found out about this. A moment later, Narvin briefly paused, doubting his decision. Was it really a good idea? It wasn’t revenge - that would have been unprofessional. He considered it, quickly coming up with a whole list of very good reasons to do what he was about to do. Satisfied, he picked another letter from the shrinking stack and opened it. If anyone would challenge his decision, or indeed ask him to justify it, he’d be well-prepared with a whole chain of rational arguments.
Not much later, the door opened without a courtesy signal to announce a visitor. Leela strode into his office with a confidence that belied her blindness. She looked better rested than Narvin felt, but otherwise much less content. Before Narvin could say more than a welcoming, “Ah, Leela-”, she’d interrupted him.
“Why did you order me to come here?”
Narvin hadn’t intended to cut to the chase so suddenly. “I hardly ordered you to come here. All I did was request your presence.”
“You sent one of your spies to search for me and bring me here. He was a very rude man. You are lucky I did not send him back to you with my answer carved in his weakling chest.”
Narvin winced. “I’d be extremely grateful if you didn’t mutilate the few trustworthy agents I have left.”
“Trustworthy?” Leela scoffed. “I thought your kind was never trustworthy, Narvin.”
He wondered if she meant CIA agents or Time Lords, but decided not to ask. “Well, actually, that brings me to the point-”
“Oh? You have called me here to tell me that I cannot trust you?” Leela’s tone was innocent, but her expression was amused. She was mocking him, which Narvin took as a good sign under the circumstances.
“Please, Leela, for once let me finish. These transitional periods are a very busy and taxing time for someone of my responsibilities, so I hope we can get this over with as quickly as possible. As you may remember, we’re overdue for the annual visa review.”
Leela faltered a tiny bit, thrown by this unexpected turn. “I do not remember this - oh. You are talking about the thing you give to aliens to tell them that they are not welcome here and must leave when their time runs out. I have never had one of those.”
“Actually, you have,” Narvin corrected, “although I can see how you might have failed to notice. I assume that Andred or K-9 managed the initial paperwork, and since then, it has been automatically renewed because you were married to a Gallifreyan citizen.”
Leela frowned. Narvin could tell that all of this was completely new to her, which was probably a good thing, since the mere thought of Leela trying to confront Gallifreyan bureaucracy was a nightmare.
“You are saying,” she said, her frown deepening, “that now that Andred is dead, I do not have this ‘visa’? That you will make me leave, like the alien students at the academy?”
“There is, indeed, the possibility that your visa might not be renewed, seeing as you are no longer married to a Time Lord, and your official status as presidential bodyguard is about to be revoked - ”
To Narvin’s surprise, Leela laughed in his face. It was a harsh laugh, short and bitter, but still defiant.
“And you thought I would beg you Time Lords to let me stay? I thought you knew me better than that, Narvin. I will not beg because I do not wish to stay here. There is nothing on this planet for me. It has taken my youth and my husband and my sight, and I have nothing left to give it. I shall leave gladly.”
For a moment, Narvin was dumbfounded. He hadn’t expected this. “You can’t leave,” he said, rather failing to make himself understood in his hurry to stop her.
Leela looked puzzled. “I cannot? But just now, you said-”
“It’s completely out of the question. You’re not just any alien. You were the presidential bodyguard! Do you even realize to what extent your knowledge could compromise our security?”
“I would not betray you like that!”
“I never said you would,” Narvin assured her. “But do you think the Daleks or the Sontarans would ask nicely? No, letting you go is out of the question.”
“Then what is it you want? You do not want me here because I am an alien, and you do not want me to go because I know too many of your secrets. What is it you want me to do? Or will you lock me up like Romana?” Leela’s hand hovered over her knife. “You may try, Narvin, if you value your life so little.”
“Actually, no.” Narvin leaned back, satisfied that they had finally come to the point. “I have a proposition for you.”
Leela’s stance turned even warier. “I do not like your tone.”
“I’m sure it’ll be amenable to both of us. You see, I’m in a rather difficult position at the moment. I’ve lost a good number of my agents during the civil war, and unfortunately, quite a few of the remaining ones favoured Pandora and Darkel, so now there’s a lot of dissension in the ranks. Not just that. Competition has always been tough among the CIA, and I believe that several of the lower level co-ordinators thought that this would be their chance to become chief co-ordinator. And they probably still do, since my position is anything but firm with Matthias. I think he,” Narvin coughed to cover his embarrassment, “believes me to be Romana’s man.”
Leela stared, her expression giving away nothing but a stubborn disapproval of anything he said. It was rather awkward, so Narvin continued. “I am, of course, completely loyal to the president, and I will, in time, sort out my problem with the agency, but until then, I’m leading a rather dangerous life. I need someone I can trust, someone competent, to watch my back. In short, I need a bodyguard.”
Finally, Leela seemed to understand. But she showed no sign of relief. Instead, her expression hardened and her tone turned bitter. “And if I say yes, you will allow me to stay on Gallifrey.”
“Exactly.” Narvin couldn’t see what was wrong with that solution. Leela had done excellent work as a bodyguard before, and she hadn’t objected to working with him for a while now.
“No,” Leela said.
Narvin blinked. His tongue felt leaden in his mouth, and his thoughts strangely sluggish. He tried to come up with a response, but all he managed was an uncomprehending, “No?”
The feeling in his throat was becoming more than uncomfortable. It was making it hard to breathe. Narvin looked down at his hands. His finger tips were stained black, as if he had dipped them into ink.
“Narvin?” Leela asked. “You sound unwell.”
The chair clattered loudly as he crashed to the floor, twitching uncontrollably. Distantly, Narvin heard Leela shouting for a doctor.
*
Leela did not like the infirmary. It was cramped and unfamiliar territory, and all the machines with their small beeping and hissing noises confused her remaining senses. She had to strain her ears to discern Narvin’s shallow breathing from everything else and watch for changes in it - without her sight, she could not otherwise tell if he was waking up. The nurse had said that he would, sooner or later.
Leela was still angry at Narvin, although even to herself she found it hard to explain exactly why his ‘proposition’ angered her. She was only half familiar with that word, it was something Romana would sometimes say when talking about politics, and it meant something like an offer. But Narvin had said it in the smug tone of someone who knew that he wouldn’t be refused. That alone would have been enough to annoy Leela. But worse - it was actually Narvin who needed her help, but instead of simply asking her, he had found a way to force her to help him. Romana had a word for that, too. Blackmail. Leela didn’t understand what it had to do with mail, but it sounded right to her ears, dark and unpleasant. Worst of all, Narvin seemed to expect her to be grateful, as if he had done her a favour.
She intended to tell him exactly what she thought of such behaviour when he woke up. But she also felt obliged to stay and watch his sickbed at least until he woke up again. It went against her every instinct to desert a man who was unable to defend himself, and more, she felt she owed Narvin that much for the time when they had fought side by side in the war.Had he just asked for her help, she would have given it freely.
A gasp told her that Narvin was waking. “The letters,” he whispered hoarsely after a moment, clearly confused. “I have to-”
“You are in the infirmary,” Leela told him. “I brought you here.”
“How long - ?”
“You are welcome, Narvin. The doctor said it was just in time. He said you were-”
“-poisoned, yes,” Narvin interrupted her impatiently. “I know. It must have been one of the letters on my desk.” He tried to sit up. A pained groan and the creak of the mattress told Leela he had not been successful. “I have to find out which one.”
“So no one else will get hurt?”
“So whoever sent it doesn’t have time to cover his tracks!” Narvin snapped, but raising his voice seemed to be a mistake. He gasped miserably for breath. “By now they probably already know it didn’t work, and the letter is my best chance of tracking them down.”
He was right, and Leela almost agreed, offered her help even, before she reminded herself that this was Narvin, who neither deserved nor properly appreciated anyone’s help.
“The doctor said you were lucky you did not regenerate,” Leela said, getting up. “Watch your own back, Narvin, because I will go now, and I will not save your life again. Perhaps if you learned to make friends and keep them, you would not have to try and force people to help you.”
“Friends?” Narvin called after her indignantly. “I’m the Co-ordinator of the CIA! It’s not my job to make friends!”
“That is your problem, Narvin,” Leela muttered under her breath. She was glad to leave. Narvin infuriated her like few other Time Lords could. Most of them were simply fools, and a few of them were monsters, but Narvin somehow united every facet of what made Time Lords unbearable. Like Romana, he was so fixated on his work that he was blind to anything else. Like Darkel, he was cruel and sly and too cowardly for a proper fight. Like the Doctor, he always thought he knew best and never stopped correcting her, but worst of all was that sometimes he seemed almost like a brave and honourable man, and for a moment reminded her why she had decided to stay on Gallifrey - only to turn around and prove her wrong once again.
*
Romana sat in astonished silence for a moment after Leela finished her tale, then she laughed. It was the same brittle, nervous laugh Leela had heard a couple of times from her since Matthias had become president. Romana was less tense now that she no longer had power, but instead, she had become bitter. Leela did not think it was a good exchange.
“What a strange, strange man he is, our Co-ordinator Narvin,” Romana said finally. “Asking you, of all people, for help!”
Leela considered asking Romana if she thought that Leela was no longer a good choice of bodyguard now that she was blind, but pride made her hold her silence. Instead, she asked, “Is it true, what Narvin said? Can he make me leave Gallifrey?”
“Foreign citizens on Gallifrey are one of the CIA’s responsibilities,” Romana conceded. “So, yes, he probably could. But I can’t help but think that there’s more behind this than just Narvin... it could be that Matthias wants you gone, too, just to get at me.”
Leela only half listened as Romana went on talking about Matthias. She was becoming obsessed with him, which Leela could not really understand. It was Braxiatel who had betrayed Romana, Matthias had only been going along with it. And yet, Romana said not a word about Braxiatel. It was as if Matthias had seized the presidency all by himself.
Romana stopped talking, and when Leela raised her head and paid attention, she could hear why - K-9 had come into the room. “Mistress,” he said, “I must leave now.”
“Leave?” Romana asked in surprise. “Where? Why?”
“To the CIA headquarters in the Panopticon,” K-9 replied. “To meet with Co-ordinator Narvin and receive further instructions.”
“Narvin?” Leela exclaimed. “Since when can he give you orders?”
“Correction, Mistress Leela. Co-ordinator Narvin has not given orders to this unit. He has sent a message requesting my assistance, and I have accepted.”
Leela turned in Romana’s direction, half-expecting a presidential outburst of fury, but Romana merely said bitterly, “I see. The rats are leaving the sinking ship.”
“Correction, Misstress. This unit is modelled on Earth species canis lupus, commonly known as ‘dog’, not rattus norwegicus, commonly known as-”
“Oh, you know very well what Romana means, K-9,” Leela scolded. “Is it true? Are you betraying her, too?”
“The request Co-ordinator Narvin has made is not related to Mistress Romana. In fact, there is a 74.9 per cent chance that my assisting Co-ordinator Narvin will be to her benefit.”
Romana perked up. “There is? How?”
“This unit is not authorized to reveal this information. You do not have the necessary security clearance.”
“Security clearance?” Romana sounded impressed. “Well, well. It seems Narvin is planning something big. I wonder what it might be.”
In a slightly smaller voice, K-9 said, “Suggestion, Mistress. My analysis shows that Co-ordinator Narvin is still likely to require Mistress Leela’s assistance.”
“Of course he does,” Leela scoffed. “That does not mean he will get it.”
Romana touched her arm. “No, Leela,” she said, her voice lowered to a conspiring whisper. “K-9 has a point. I want to know what Narvin is doing, especially if it could be to our advantage. And you could be my eyes and ears-” Romana faltered, realising what she’d said. “I’m sorry, Leela, I was just speaking metaphorically.”
“I know,” Leela said, stepping away from her. “If you had been saying what you truly mean, you would have said that I could be your spy.”
Romana sighed in resignation. “I suppose that is what I meant, yes. But Leela, you have to understand-” her voice turned imploring, giving way to the despair she felt, “there’s so little I can do! I’m going mad sitting here all day, cut off from the world and with nothing to do. You’re the only friend I have left! Nobody else can help me now, or I wouldn’t be asking you to do this.”
Leela shifted uneasily. “You are sure this... would help you?”
“Yes, yes, it would,” Romana said eagerly. “If I knew what was going on in the Panopticon right now, I could prepare for their next attack against me. My hearing is coming up, and I need whatever information I can get.”
This was not the first time Romana had asked her to spy on people. Leela had never liked it, but she liked it even less this time. The thought of spying on Narvin reminded her too much of what Andred had done. She also suspected that Romana was exaggerating to get her to agree. If that was true, then Romana was treating her little better than Narvin, only she was using hope to manipulate Leela where Narvin had tried to use fear. On the other hand, perhaps Romana was not exaggerating. Leela did not understand Time Lord politics well enough to be sure. Perhaps this really would help against Romana’s enemies. Even if it did not, Romana’s despair was genuine, and Leela could not refuse.
*
“Leela! What a surprise.”
Narvin didn’t bother to hide the fact that it wasn’t a very pleasant surprise at this juncture. He had hoped K-9 would come without either of his mistresses. He planned to deal with Leela later, preferably after the current unpleasant business was over, but of course he wasn’t so lucky. “What brings you back here?”
“Mistress Leela has reconsidered your offer of employment,” K-9 stated. Leela gave his metal casing a surreptitious little kick.
“Thank you, K-9, I can speak for myself.”
Narvin frowned at both of them. He had assumed that Leela had tagged along to tell him that he couldn’t borrow K-9, or to demand to know what he was needed for. Definitely not that she would want to be his bodyguard after all. Her rejection earlier had been very clear.
On the other hand - perhaps Romana had explained to her that the visa review was not Narvin’s fault. In that case, Narvin was willing to forgive Romana any number of false accusations she had levelled at him over the years.
“I’m sure you can, Leela. And what is it you wish to say to me?”
Leela hesitated a fraction too long. She could act well on occasion - Narvin had observed as much during the civil war - but ultimately, she was not good at hiding things. “I will watch your back for you, Narvin,” she said finally, but she clearly didn’t like saying it.
He suppressed his disappointment. “That’s good news, but, at present, I don’t require your company. I’ll be leaving the Citadel for a day.” Going to a place that was, if possible, even more dangerous than the CIA headquarters at the moment, but Narvin most certainly did not want Leela to come along, willingly or unwillingly.
“Oh?” Leela cocked her head slightly. “You are hunting your assassin in the outlands? But I could be very helpful to you there, much more than K-9.”
“What? Oh, no, no.” Narvin shook his head emphatically, “K-9 isn’t going to come along either. He’s going to stay right here in my office. You can stay with him, if that’s what you want.”
“Co-ordinator Narvin has requested that this unit act as his secretary while he is away,” K-9 explained to Leela. The robot dog sounded just a little smug as it added, “I will be acting Chief Co-ordinator of the CIA.”
Leela looked astonished for a moment before breaking into hearty laughter. “You want K-9 to do your job, Narvin? First me, then him - are you that desperate?”
For once, Narvin was glad that Leela could not see him, because he felt his cheeks heating at her laughter. “I am not desperate! I simply need someone who is suitable for the job. And at the moment, that happens to be K-9. He is competent, reliable, and not a suspect in my attempted murder. In fact, while appearances may be deceiving, I consider K-9 to be one of the most powerful computers on Gallifrey, now we have lost the Matrix.”
“Oh,” Leela said, still laughing, “did you hear that, K-9? I think Narvin likes you.”
Narvin tugged at his gloves sharply. “I really don’t have time for this. K-9, all the necessary instructions are in the files I transmitted to you earlier. Hopefully, I will be back before tomorrow. Leela - have a good day.”
Predictably (no one ever left him alone when Narvin needed to be left alone), Leela followed him out of his office. Every single agent they passed stared insolently at them, but of course, Leela couldn’t see that. Only Narvin could, and he didn’t have the time to tell them to mind their own business.
“I do not believe you,” Leela told him. “If where you are going is not dangerous, why do you carry a gun?”
Narvin instinctively reached for his staser. “How do you -”
“I heard you checking the safety when I entered your office. Now where are we going?”
“We aren’t going anywhere. If you must know, this is a personal matter. It has nothing to do with my job. It’s... family business.”
“Family business?” Leela echoed, utterly amazed. “Why, Narvin, I did not know you had a family!”
“Of course I do! Why wouldn’t I? I’ll have you know that House Stillhaven is one of the great old Houses of Gallifrey - a good deal older than Deeptree or Heartshaven, as a matter of fact.”
Leela’s expression softened. “You are telling the truth.”
“How kind of you to believe me. At last. Now please, I’m on a tight schedule, and I need to get to the other side of Mount Cadon before nightfall. Get out of my way.”
They had reached the CIA’s transport resort, which at the moment consisted only of a few newly-birthed TARDISes and a couple of flyers. It was for one of these that Narvin was headed. Leela, though, continued to follow him doggedly. Before he could get into the flyer, Leela stepped in front of the door, blocking his way.
“You would not leave to visit your family at a time like this if it was not important. You never do anything without an alt-,” Leela stumbled over the word, trying to remember it, “an ulti -”
“An ulterior motive,” Narvin supplied with a sigh.
“Yes, that. Is it the assassin? Do you think he will go after your tribe?”
“No! This has nothing to do with the assassin. I don’t have time for this! Leave me alone, or I will have to tell K-9 to send a couple of agents and you’ll be spending a night in a CIA holding cell.”
Leela snorted. “K-9 would not do that! But if you will not let me come with you, I will go to Matthias and tell him that you are keeping secrets from him.”
Narvin flinched - Leela had no idea what she was threatening. “No! The president can under no circumstances know about this!”
“Then I will be coming with you,” Leela said, giving him a toothy smile.
“Very well,” he sighed, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
*
“I must have been mad,” Narvin groaned thirty microspans later when he realized just how difficult this was going to be. His life all too often resembled a never-ending string of disasters, but this was going to be a special one. “Everything would be much easier for both of us if you just wear these robes for a few hours.” Once again he tried to give Leela the robes he’d found in back of the flyer. “They’re in every way superior to animal skins: they’re clean, as good as new, perfect in all weather conditions-“
“How do you know that they’re superior?” Leela asked. “Have you ever worn leathers?”
“I shouldn’t even have to answer such an inane question. No Time Lord would ever wear dead animal matter when there are perfectly good synthetic materials.”
“Romana has leather shoes in her closet. I have seen them myself, they are red, ” Leela said triumphantly.
“Well, even Romana is prudent enough to keep them in her closet, isn’t she?”
“I am wearing the clothes of a warrior of the Sevateem. Why should I wear anything else?”
“You’re dressed very... informally.” Diplomatically Narvin did not mention that Leela was wearing pretty much exactly what she had been wearing when she had gone undercover as an exotic dancer. Not that he was ever going to mention that mission at all if he could avoid it.
Leela did not seem to find it diplomatic. “You mean, like an alien.”
“I meant what I said. We’re attending a very formal occasion.”
Leela crossed her arms. “I do not want your robes, Narvin.”
“There’s nothing wrong with these robes! They’re CIA standard issue-”
Leela’s tone slipped, from irritated to genuinely upset. “That is what is wrong with them!”
Narvin sat back, still holding the robes. He hadn’t anticipated this. “You despise the agency that much?”
Leela turned away from him, her mouth twisting bitterly. “Andred wore this when he became Torvald.”
“Ah, I see.” Narvin wished he’d thought of that sooner. He didn’t want Leela to think that he had forgotten about Andred. He hadn’t - after his mistake of trusting Darkel, the whole business with Andred and Torvald was one of the biggest debacles of Narvin’s career, and he still felt a sting just thinking about it. Considering that Narvin had more or less caused Andred to go undercover, and had then failed to notice it, before helping Darkel to the point where she drove Romana to consult Pandora, which had in turn led to Andred being killed, a good portion of the blame belonged to Narvin. It was all a series of extremely unfortunate misjudgements on his behalf - anything but professional.
He busied himself with the flight controls, then stared out at the slopes of vast Mount Cadon, glowing red in the dusk, as they zipped past. Leela remained silent, and even though she could not see, Narvin couldn’t make himself turn around to look at her.
“Andred was... a good agent,” Narvin said.
“I do not want to hear this!”
“No, Leela, listen to me. Andred was a better agent than Torvald ever was because he did what he did for Gallifrey. I can’t agree with his methods, but I respect his intentions. His death was a tragedy that could have been avoided if only I’d realised soon what was going on right under my nose.”
Only at the time, Narvin had never suspected that anything was wrong with Torvald. He’d simply thought that regeneration had much improved Torvald’s work ethic. Andred had seemed keen and loyal, focused on the job rather than power politics, and Narvin had enjoyed working with him. He hadn’t just been a good agent. He’d been a good second in command, a good sounding board for ideas, a good... right hand man, Narvin supposed the appropriate term was - it was, in any case, more professional than ‘friend’.
Leela made no sound but an indrawn breath. Then, after another long pause, she spoke, her voice harsh. “Romana sent me to spy on you.”
“Oh,” Narvin said, not sure whether to be upset because still thought he deserved to be distrusted or upset because he’d been fooled a second time.
“But I will not be a spy.” Leela’s voice trembled a little. It was impossible to tell whether in anger or fear. “Not for her, not for you, not for anyone. Not... not after what it did to Andred. I will not become like him!”
She attempted to rise from her seat, which in a craft as small as the flyer wasn’t a good idea when you were flying at full speed and navigating the treacherous updrafts of Mount Cadon. Narvin tried to placate her.
“I really see no danger of that ever happening. You’ll never make a good spy.”
Leela’s breathing calmed a little, and she lowered her voice to a normal level. “You think so?”
“I do. Trust me.”
She laughed bitterly. “Do you say that as a spy?”
“I say that as someone whose first choice of career wasn’t the CIA,” Narvin told her. “When I entered basic training, I found this immensely frustrating. Machines don’t dissemble or act illogically. They obey their own laws to a fault. You can be a perfectly good data technician without ever coming across a moral dilemma. As a spy, you don’t just have to make compromises. You have to compromise yourself. You can’t afford trust or friendship or honour. To uphold your most precious ideals, you sometimes have to betray them. That’s what Andred tried to do, and it broke him. It would break you too, if you ever tried it.”
“It did not break you.”
Narvin glanced at Leela, unsure if that was a question, or a statement, or an expression of doubt.
“No,” he said. “I find it doesn’t affect me very much.”
*
Leela hadn’t been this upset since she’d lost her sight, perhaps even since Andred died. Talking to Narvin had torn up all the old, badly healed wounds. She knew, in her heart of hearts, that the robes didn’t really mean anything. The Doctor had once said to her, when she had asked him why he wore such a long scarf, “It’s not the clothes that make the man, Leela, it’s the man who makes the clothes. And I don’t mean the formidable lady who knitted this scarf, because she certainly isn’t a man.” Which was the kind of thing the Doctor said, and you never knew if he was being a wise man or a fool, but Leela thought he was right.
Some clothes had real power, like the sash of the president worn here on Gallifrey, or the ceremonial garb of the shaman of the Sevateem, but they had power because they were tools, man-made and useful, not because of the way they looked. The power of these CIA robes lay only in her mind, it worked only if she let it, and Leela was afraid of them because she didn’t know if she was stronger than they were. Once she had thought she was stronger than Andred, but was she really? This was a fight where a good blade and a strong arm were useless, where all she had was her heart, and that felt tired and ragged, worn out like the leather sole of a boot one has walked too far in.
“We’ll be arriving in less than ten microspans,” Narvin announced next to her, and she could hear him rubbing his temples, and then reaching for his staser again with the soft slide of gloves over metal. It was an oddly comforting sound. Clearly, Narvin expected trouble, and trouble was the only thing left that gladdened Leela’s heart. “Tell me,” she asked, straightening, “why is it that you need a gun to visit your tribe?”
“I’m not planning to use it,” Narvin replied, shifting uncomfortably. “It’s merely a precaution. If it does come to a fight, we’d be outnumbered. So, please, Leela, do try and refrain from provoking anyone.”
“Outnumbered? Do many of your people live where we are going?”
“Usually not, but today is a special occasion. I suppose I might as well tell you. I’m attending a wake, and the reading of a will.”
“Someone has died?”
Narvin chuckled darkly. “Oh yes, somebody has. You were even there, Leela.”
“I was? But I have never met any of your relatives!” Narvin had to be mistaken - or maybe he had kept it to himself? Leela tried to remember if any of the people who had died in the war had especially upset Narvin. She couldn’t think of anyone, but then, she had not been paying much attention to Narvin’s feelings, since like most Time Lords, he was doing his best to pretend he didn’t have any, and Leela usually had enough trouble puzzling out Romana’s. “Who is it?”
“Inquisitor Prime Darkel,” Narvin said, savouring the reveal.
“Darkel!” Leela exclaimed, her hand finding her blade instinctively. “She is your relative?”
“Not a close one, but she certainly was,” Narvin said evenly. “Don’t be so surprised Leela. Most of the old Houses are related to each other. Why, I believe Romana and I are distant cousins of some sort, and the former President Braxiatel was, among other, less reputable connections, related to President Flavia-”
“It is not that,” Leela interrupted to stop Narvin from unearthing his entire family tree. “Everyone was related to everyone else in my tribe, too.”
“Of course I’m not talking about actual blood relations,” Narvin continued, ignoring her. “If we still procreated biologically, Gallifrey’s leading elite would be terribly inbred. There is a reason Time Lords are so superior to lesser species, and it’s not just our longevity. Most of us are the product of lots of careful genetic engineering, even if we do carry some of the genes of our parents.”
“Oh, that is not so special,” Leela said, mostly to irritate Narvin because he was irritating her with his arrogance. “On my world, there was a mad computer who bred people like animals, just as you do with your children. My tribe, the Sevateem, were selected for being strong and brave fighters who could survive in the forest, while the Tesh lived in their base with all their machines and became very smart - so smart that they could do psychic tricks with their minds.”
It turned out that Narvin was not so much irritated by this as stunned. “I, well, I certainly never guessed your people had anything like advanced eugenics. I was led to believe they were simply primitive humans.”
“There is no need to sound so impressed,” Leela said, even more annoyed. “It was not a good thing!”
“Even so, you have to admit it worked - at least judging by you. I can’t imagine hat there are many humans as suited to violence and survival as you are - and with none of the usual defects of inbreeding, too,” Narvin said in a tone so smug it made Leela want to demonstrate some of that violence. She heard him operating the flight controls, then he said, in a more sober tone of voice, “I am not attending this wake out of any courtesy to my family or Darkel, Leela. You have to understand - House Stillhaven is extremely conservative. None of us supported Romana when she came into office, and Stillhaven became more opposed to her with every reform she tried to push through. Traditionally, there is a hardly a house more respectable or politically stable than my family, and it certainly wouldn’t have occurred to any cousin of Stillhaven to oppose a lawfully elected president in the past - but I fear that may have changed.”
“They are our enemies.”
“That depends on who you mean by ‘us’.”
“Romana, and anyone who is loyal to her. Who else would I mean?”
“Of course, I forgot,” Narvin muttered. “But that isn’t all. Braxiatel was hardly popular among my house either, and whatever they thought of Matthias before the election, now he has defeated Darkel and has been handed the presidency by Braxiatel, I’m certain they view him as Romana’s man.”
“Even though he is not.”
“It may be too soon to judge that.” Narvin’s tone made Leela think that either he knew more than she did, or was pretending to know more - you never quite knew with Time Lords, they all liked to do that. “Anyway, it doesn’t really matter at the moment. What matters is that the renowned House of Stillhaven believes that Matthias is as bad as Romana, and since I am loyal to the president, I must be as bad as him. Which is frankly ridiculous, and not why I expected of my family, since I’ve always made it exceedingly clear that I approve of none of Romana’s more radical reforms-”
“They are your enemies, too,” Leela summarised.
Narvin sighed wearily. “Yes. The letter that nearly poisoned me? It was my invitation to the wake.”
Part Two
Fandom: the "Gallifrey" audio series
Rating: PG/gen
Length: 19424 words
Spoilers: set between 3.4 "Mindbomb" and 3.5 "Panacea", with no spoilers for series 4
Characters: Narvin, Leela, K9, Romana, OCs
Summary: my morepolitics entry for ficciones, whose prompt was "Leela and Narvin in something buddy-cop style. Preferably with hijinks" - it is certainly a buddycop story, but maybe a little short of hijinks.
Note #1: aralias didn't just beta this monster even though she still had her own fic to finish, she also provided virtual hand-holding services while I wibbled excessively about it. She rocks :)
Note #2: I "borrowed" the name of Narvin's House from none other than ficciones because I like it. Other than that the fic is obviously based on "Invasion of Time" to some degree, but also to two small lines in "Panacea". There, Leela expects that Narvin wants to see her to revoke her official status as bodyguard, and Matthias tells Valyes that he needn't complain about Leela because the visa review is coming up. Epic fic about the visa application process on Gallifrey! Just what you've always wanted! No, thank god that's not really what this about.
A Family Affair
It was three days after Lord Matthias became President of Gallifrey, and Narvin was finally approaching the lower strata of the mountain of post on his desk. He’d been working on his correspondence during his quieter hours. Compared to the hectic High Council sessions, paperwork was a blessed relief. A year ago, Narvin might have enjoyed the present atmosphere among the chapters. Even those High Council members who had been firm supporters of Romana’s reforms before the civil war now spoke much more cautiously. Everyone seemed eager to return to a pre-war and pre-Romana status quo, as if all that unpleasantness could simply be swept under the carpet and forgot. Valyes’s confirmation as Chancellor had been welcomed almost unanimously. Sadly, Narvin couldn’t share the enthusiasm of his peers. Valyes’s particular brand of conservatism had seemed outmoded even before the war, and now it was outright reactionary. At best, it could be called wishful thinking, and at worst it was just another form of dangerous radicalism.
The dislike between Narvin and Valyes was mutual, and perhaps not so much political as personal. Narvin resented the incessant little jabs directed at him for his association with Romana during the war and the subsequent presidential election. Just this morning when Narvin had run into Valyes on his way from the president’s office, Valyes had, in his usual circuitous way, inquired how Leela was these days.
“I wouldn’t know, I haven’t seen her since Romana was put under house arrest,” Narvin had answered, truthfully but nevertheless annoyed, and Valyes had said, “Of course, of course,” in a meaningful way, irritating Narvin even further.
Not much later, while working on his correspondence, Narvin had discovered the reason for Valyes’s smugness. It was a memo from Matthias regarding the annual visa review for foreign citizens on Gallifrey. Matthias’s brisk note simply said, “Look into this, Valyes keeps bugging me about it”. Narvin couldn’t tell what annoyed him more about it - that Valyes would be so petty to carry on the grudge he had formed against Leela during her time as tutor, or that Matthias would give in so easily.
One thing was true, however. The visa review was overdue, and it was CIA business. Narvin would take care of it, but not in the way they wanted him to. His first impulse had been to go to Matthias and tell him that it was well beyond a Chancellor’s power to tell the CIA how they ought to do their work, but then he had come up with a much more elegant solution.
He sent one of his agents to find Leela, and then continued with his work, ever so slightly cheered by the prospect of the look on Valyes’s face when he found out about this. A moment later, Narvin briefly paused, doubting his decision. Was it really a good idea? It wasn’t revenge - that would have been unprofessional. He considered it, quickly coming up with a whole list of very good reasons to do what he was about to do. Satisfied, he picked another letter from the shrinking stack and opened it. If anyone would challenge his decision, or indeed ask him to justify it, he’d be well-prepared with a whole chain of rational arguments.
Not much later, the door opened without a courtesy signal to announce a visitor. Leela strode into his office with a confidence that belied her blindness. She looked better rested than Narvin felt, but otherwise much less content. Before Narvin could say more than a welcoming, “Ah, Leela-”, she’d interrupted him.
“Why did you order me to come here?”
Narvin hadn’t intended to cut to the chase so suddenly. “I hardly ordered you to come here. All I did was request your presence.”
“You sent one of your spies to search for me and bring me here. He was a very rude man. You are lucky I did not send him back to you with my answer carved in his weakling chest.”
Narvin winced. “I’d be extremely grateful if you didn’t mutilate the few trustworthy agents I have left.”
“Trustworthy?” Leela scoffed. “I thought your kind was never trustworthy, Narvin.”
He wondered if she meant CIA agents or Time Lords, but decided not to ask. “Well, actually, that brings me to the point-”
“Oh? You have called me here to tell me that I cannot trust you?” Leela’s tone was innocent, but her expression was amused. She was mocking him, which Narvin took as a good sign under the circumstances.
“Please, Leela, for once let me finish. These transitional periods are a very busy and taxing time for someone of my responsibilities, so I hope we can get this over with as quickly as possible. As you may remember, we’re overdue for the annual visa review.”
Leela faltered a tiny bit, thrown by this unexpected turn. “I do not remember this - oh. You are talking about the thing you give to aliens to tell them that they are not welcome here and must leave when their time runs out. I have never had one of those.”
“Actually, you have,” Narvin corrected, “although I can see how you might have failed to notice. I assume that Andred or K-9 managed the initial paperwork, and since then, it has been automatically renewed because you were married to a Gallifreyan citizen.”
Leela frowned. Narvin could tell that all of this was completely new to her, which was probably a good thing, since the mere thought of Leela trying to confront Gallifreyan bureaucracy was a nightmare.
“You are saying,” she said, her frown deepening, “that now that Andred is dead, I do not have this ‘visa’? That you will make me leave, like the alien students at the academy?”
“There is, indeed, the possibility that your visa might not be renewed, seeing as you are no longer married to a Time Lord, and your official status as presidential bodyguard is about to be revoked - ”
To Narvin’s surprise, Leela laughed in his face. It was a harsh laugh, short and bitter, but still defiant.
“And you thought I would beg you Time Lords to let me stay? I thought you knew me better than that, Narvin. I will not beg because I do not wish to stay here. There is nothing on this planet for me. It has taken my youth and my husband and my sight, and I have nothing left to give it. I shall leave gladly.”
For a moment, Narvin was dumbfounded. He hadn’t expected this. “You can’t leave,” he said, rather failing to make himself understood in his hurry to stop her.
Leela looked puzzled. “I cannot? But just now, you said-”
“It’s completely out of the question. You’re not just any alien. You were the presidential bodyguard! Do you even realize to what extent your knowledge could compromise our security?”
“I would not betray you like that!”
“I never said you would,” Narvin assured her. “But do you think the Daleks or the Sontarans would ask nicely? No, letting you go is out of the question.”
“Then what is it you want? You do not want me here because I am an alien, and you do not want me to go because I know too many of your secrets. What is it you want me to do? Or will you lock me up like Romana?” Leela’s hand hovered over her knife. “You may try, Narvin, if you value your life so little.”
“Actually, no.” Narvin leaned back, satisfied that they had finally come to the point. “I have a proposition for you.”
Leela’s stance turned even warier. “I do not like your tone.”
“I’m sure it’ll be amenable to both of us. You see, I’m in a rather difficult position at the moment. I’ve lost a good number of my agents during the civil war, and unfortunately, quite a few of the remaining ones favoured Pandora and Darkel, so now there’s a lot of dissension in the ranks. Not just that. Competition has always been tough among the CIA, and I believe that several of the lower level co-ordinators thought that this would be their chance to become chief co-ordinator. And they probably still do, since my position is anything but firm with Matthias. I think he,” Narvin coughed to cover his embarrassment, “believes me to be Romana’s man.”
Leela stared, her expression giving away nothing but a stubborn disapproval of anything he said. It was rather awkward, so Narvin continued. “I am, of course, completely loyal to the president, and I will, in time, sort out my problem with the agency, but until then, I’m leading a rather dangerous life. I need someone I can trust, someone competent, to watch my back. In short, I need a bodyguard.”
Finally, Leela seemed to understand. But she showed no sign of relief. Instead, her expression hardened and her tone turned bitter. “And if I say yes, you will allow me to stay on Gallifrey.”
“Exactly.” Narvin couldn’t see what was wrong with that solution. Leela had done excellent work as a bodyguard before, and she hadn’t objected to working with him for a while now.
“No,” Leela said.
Narvin blinked. His tongue felt leaden in his mouth, and his thoughts strangely sluggish. He tried to come up with a response, but all he managed was an uncomprehending, “No?”
The feeling in his throat was becoming more than uncomfortable. It was making it hard to breathe. Narvin looked down at his hands. His finger tips were stained black, as if he had dipped them into ink.
“Narvin?” Leela asked. “You sound unwell.”
The chair clattered loudly as he crashed to the floor, twitching uncontrollably. Distantly, Narvin heard Leela shouting for a doctor.
*
Leela did not like the infirmary. It was cramped and unfamiliar territory, and all the machines with their small beeping and hissing noises confused her remaining senses. She had to strain her ears to discern Narvin’s shallow breathing from everything else and watch for changes in it - without her sight, she could not otherwise tell if he was waking up. The nurse had said that he would, sooner or later.
Leela was still angry at Narvin, although even to herself she found it hard to explain exactly why his ‘proposition’ angered her. She was only half familiar with that word, it was something Romana would sometimes say when talking about politics, and it meant something like an offer. But Narvin had said it in the smug tone of someone who knew that he wouldn’t be refused. That alone would have been enough to annoy Leela. But worse - it was actually Narvin who needed her help, but instead of simply asking her, he had found a way to force her to help him. Romana had a word for that, too. Blackmail. Leela didn’t understand what it had to do with mail, but it sounded right to her ears, dark and unpleasant. Worst of all, Narvin seemed to expect her to be grateful, as if he had done her a favour.
She intended to tell him exactly what she thought of such behaviour when he woke up. But she also felt obliged to stay and watch his sickbed at least until he woke up again. It went against her every instinct to desert a man who was unable to defend himself, and more, she felt she owed Narvin that much for the time when they had fought side by side in the war.Had he just asked for her help, she would have given it freely.
A gasp told her that Narvin was waking. “The letters,” he whispered hoarsely after a moment, clearly confused. “I have to-”
“You are in the infirmary,” Leela told him. “I brought you here.”
“How long - ?”
“You are welcome, Narvin. The doctor said it was just in time. He said you were-”
“-poisoned, yes,” Narvin interrupted her impatiently. “I know. It must have been one of the letters on my desk.” He tried to sit up. A pained groan and the creak of the mattress told Leela he had not been successful. “I have to find out which one.”
“So no one else will get hurt?”
“So whoever sent it doesn’t have time to cover his tracks!” Narvin snapped, but raising his voice seemed to be a mistake. He gasped miserably for breath. “By now they probably already know it didn’t work, and the letter is my best chance of tracking them down.”
He was right, and Leela almost agreed, offered her help even, before she reminded herself that this was Narvin, who neither deserved nor properly appreciated anyone’s help.
“The doctor said you were lucky you did not regenerate,” Leela said, getting up. “Watch your own back, Narvin, because I will go now, and I will not save your life again. Perhaps if you learned to make friends and keep them, you would not have to try and force people to help you.”
“Friends?” Narvin called after her indignantly. “I’m the Co-ordinator of the CIA! It’s not my job to make friends!”
“That is your problem, Narvin,” Leela muttered under her breath. She was glad to leave. Narvin infuriated her like few other Time Lords could. Most of them were simply fools, and a few of them were monsters, but Narvin somehow united every facet of what made Time Lords unbearable. Like Romana, he was so fixated on his work that he was blind to anything else. Like Darkel, he was cruel and sly and too cowardly for a proper fight. Like the Doctor, he always thought he knew best and never stopped correcting her, but worst of all was that sometimes he seemed almost like a brave and honourable man, and for a moment reminded her why she had decided to stay on Gallifrey - only to turn around and prove her wrong once again.
*
Romana sat in astonished silence for a moment after Leela finished her tale, then she laughed. It was the same brittle, nervous laugh Leela had heard a couple of times from her since Matthias had become president. Romana was less tense now that she no longer had power, but instead, she had become bitter. Leela did not think it was a good exchange.
“What a strange, strange man he is, our Co-ordinator Narvin,” Romana said finally. “Asking you, of all people, for help!”
Leela considered asking Romana if she thought that Leela was no longer a good choice of bodyguard now that she was blind, but pride made her hold her silence. Instead, she asked, “Is it true, what Narvin said? Can he make me leave Gallifrey?”
“Foreign citizens on Gallifrey are one of the CIA’s responsibilities,” Romana conceded. “So, yes, he probably could. But I can’t help but think that there’s more behind this than just Narvin... it could be that Matthias wants you gone, too, just to get at me.”
Leela only half listened as Romana went on talking about Matthias. She was becoming obsessed with him, which Leela could not really understand. It was Braxiatel who had betrayed Romana, Matthias had only been going along with it. And yet, Romana said not a word about Braxiatel. It was as if Matthias had seized the presidency all by himself.
Romana stopped talking, and when Leela raised her head and paid attention, she could hear why - K-9 had come into the room. “Mistress,” he said, “I must leave now.”
“Leave?” Romana asked in surprise. “Where? Why?”
“To the CIA headquarters in the Panopticon,” K-9 replied. “To meet with Co-ordinator Narvin and receive further instructions.”
“Narvin?” Leela exclaimed. “Since when can he give you orders?”
“Correction, Mistress Leela. Co-ordinator Narvin has not given orders to this unit. He has sent a message requesting my assistance, and I have accepted.”
Leela turned in Romana’s direction, half-expecting a presidential outburst of fury, but Romana merely said bitterly, “I see. The rats are leaving the sinking ship.”
“Correction, Misstress. This unit is modelled on Earth species canis lupus, commonly known as ‘dog’, not rattus norwegicus, commonly known as-”
“Oh, you know very well what Romana means, K-9,” Leela scolded. “Is it true? Are you betraying her, too?”
“The request Co-ordinator Narvin has made is not related to Mistress Romana. In fact, there is a 74.9 per cent chance that my assisting Co-ordinator Narvin will be to her benefit.”
Romana perked up. “There is? How?”
“This unit is not authorized to reveal this information. You do not have the necessary security clearance.”
“Security clearance?” Romana sounded impressed. “Well, well. It seems Narvin is planning something big. I wonder what it might be.”
In a slightly smaller voice, K-9 said, “Suggestion, Mistress. My analysis shows that Co-ordinator Narvin is still likely to require Mistress Leela’s assistance.”
“Of course he does,” Leela scoffed. “That does not mean he will get it.”
Romana touched her arm. “No, Leela,” she said, her voice lowered to a conspiring whisper. “K-9 has a point. I want to know what Narvin is doing, especially if it could be to our advantage. And you could be my eyes and ears-” Romana faltered, realising what she’d said. “I’m sorry, Leela, I was just speaking metaphorically.”
“I know,” Leela said, stepping away from her. “If you had been saying what you truly mean, you would have said that I could be your spy.”
Romana sighed in resignation. “I suppose that is what I meant, yes. But Leela, you have to understand-” her voice turned imploring, giving way to the despair she felt, “there’s so little I can do! I’m going mad sitting here all day, cut off from the world and with nothing to do. You’re the only friend I have left! Nobody else can help me now, or I wouldn’t be asking you to do this.”
Leela shifted uneasily. “You are sure this... would help you?”
“Yes, yes, it would,” Romana said eagerly. “If I knew what was going on in the Panopticon right now, I could prepare for their next attack against me. My hearing is coming up, and I need whatever information I can get.”
This was not the first time Romana had asked her to spy on people. Leela had never liked it, but she liked it even less this time. The thought of spying on Narvin reminded her too much of what Andred had done. She also suspected that Romana was exaggerating to get her to agree. If that was true, then Romana was treating her little better than Narvin, only she was using hope to manipulate Leela where Narvin had tried to use fear. On the other hand, perhaps Romana was not exaggerating. Leela did not understand Time Lord politics well enough to be sure. Perhaps this really would help against Romana’s enemies. Even if it did not, Romana’s despair was genuine, and Leela could not refuse.
*
“Leela! What a surprise.”
Narvin didn’t bother to hide the fact that it wasn’t a very pleasant surprise at this juncture. He had hoped K-9 would come without either of his mistresses. He planned to deal with Leela later, preferably after the current unpleasant business was over, but of course he wasn’t so lucky. “What brings you back here?”
“Mistress Leela has reconsidered your offer of employment,” K-9 stated. Leela gave his metal casing a surreptitious little kick.
“Thank you, K-9, I can speak for myself.”
Narvin frowned at both of them. He had assumed that Leela had tagged along to tell him that he couldn’t borrow K-9, or to demand to know what he was needed for. Definitely not that she would want to be his bodyguard after all. Her rejection earlier had been very clear.
On the other hand - perhaps Romana had explained to her that the visa review was not Narvin’s fault. In that case, Narvin was willing to forgive Romana any number of false accusations she had levelled at him over the years.
“I’m sure you can, Leela. And what is it you wish to say to me?”
Leela hesitated a fraction too long. She could act well on occasion - Narvin had observed as much during the civil war - but ultimately, she was not good at hiding things. “I will watch your back for you, Narvin,” she said finally, but she clearly didn’t like saying it.
He suppressed his disappointment. “That’s good news, but, at present, I don’t require your company. I’ll be leaving the Citadel for a day.” Going to a place that was, if possible, even more dangerous than the CIA headquarters at the moment, but Narvin most certainly did not want Leela to come along, willingly or unwillingly.
“Oh?” Leela cocked her head slightly. “You are hunting your assassin in the outlands? But I could be very helpful to you there, much more than K-9.”
“What? Oh, no, no.” Narvin shook his head emphatically, “K-9 isn’t going to come along either. He’s going to stay right here in my office. You can stay with him, if that’s what you want.”
“Co-ordinator Narvin has requested that this unit act as his secretary while he is away,” K-9 explained to Leela. The robot dog sounded just a little smug as it added, “I will be acting Chief Co-ordinator of the CIA.”
Leela looked astonished for a moment before breaking into hearty laughter. “You want K-9 to do your job, Narvin? First me, then him - are you that desperate?”
For once, Narvin was glad that Leela could not see him, because he felt his cheeks heating at her laughter. “I am not desperate! I simply need someone who is suitable for the job. And at the moment, that happens to be K-9. He is competent, reliable, and not a suspect in my attempted murder. In fact, while appearances may be deceiving, I consider K-9 to be one of the most powerful computers on Gallifrey, now we have lost the Matrix.”
“Oh,” Leela said, still laughing, “did you hear that, K-9? I think Narvin likes you.”
Narvin tugged at his gloves sharply. “I really don’t have time for this. K-9, all the necessary instructions are in the files I transmitted to you earlier. Hopefully, I will be back before tomorrow. Leela - have a good day.”
Predictably (no one ever left him alone when Narvin needed to be left alone), Leela followed him out of his office. Every single agent they passed stared insolently at them, but of course, Leela couldn’t see that. Only Narvin could, and he didn’t have the time to tell them to mind their own business.
“I do not believe you,” Leela told him. “If where you are going is not dangerous, why do you carry a gun?”
Narvin instinctively reached for his staser. “How do you -”
“I heard you checking the safety when I entered your office. Now where are we going?”
“We aren’t going anywhere. If you must know, this is a personal matter. It has nothing to do with my job. It’s... family business.”
“Family business?” Leela echoed, utterly amazed. “Why, Narvin, I did not know you had a family!”
“Of course I do! Why wouldn’t I? I’ll have you know that House Stillhaven is one of the great old Houses of Gallifrey - a good deal older than Deeptree or Heartshaven, as a matter of fact.”
Leela’s expression softened. “You are telling the truth.”
“How kind of you to believe me. At last. Now please, I’m on a tight schedule, and I need to get to the other side of Mount Cadon before nightfall. Get out of my way.”
They had reached the CIA’s transport resort, which at the moment consisted only of a few newly-birthed TARDISes and a couple of flyers. It was for one of these that Narvin was headed. Leela, though, continued to follow him doggedly. Before he could get into the flyer, Leela stepped in front of the door, blocking his way.
“You would not leave to visit your family at a time like this if it was not important. You never do anything without an alt-,” Leela stumbled over the word, trying to remember it, “an ulti -”
“An ulterior motive,” Narvin supplied with a sigh.
“Yes, that. Is it the assassin? Do you think he will go after your tribe?”
“No! This has nothing to do with the assassin. I don’t have time for this! Leave me alone, or I will have to tell K-9 to send a couple of agents and you’ll be spending a night in a CIA holding cell.”
Leela snorted. “K-9 would not do that! But if you will not let me come with you, I will go to Matthias and tell him that you are keeping secrets from him.”
Narvin flinched - Leela had no idea what she was threatening. “No! The president can under no circumstances know about this!”
“Then I will be coming with you,” Leela said, giving him a toothy smile.
“Very well,” he sighed, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
*
“I must have been mad,” Narvin groaned thirty microspans later when he realized just how difficult this was going to be. His life all too often resembled a never-ending string of disasters, but this was going to be a special one. “Everything would be much easier for both of us if you just wear these robes for a few hours.” Once again he tried to give Leela the robes he’d found in back of the flyer. “They’re in every way superior to animal skins: they’re clean, as good as new, perfect in all weather conditions-“
“How do you know that they’re superior?” Leela asked. “Have you ever worn leathers?”
“I shouldn’t even have to answer such an inane question. No Time Lord would ever wear dead animal matter when there are perfectly good synthetic materials.”
“Romana has leather shoes in her closet. I have seen them myself, they are red, ” Leela said triumphantly.
“Well, even Romana is prudent enough to keep them in her closet, isn’t she?”
“I am wearing the clothes of a warrior of the Sevateem. Why should I wear anything else?”
“You’re dressed very... informally.” Diplomatically Narvin did not mention that Leela was wearing pretty much exactly what she had been wearing when she had gone undercover as an exotic dancer. Not that he was ever going to mention that mission at all if he could avoid it.
Leela did not seem to find it diplomatic. “You mean, like an alien.”
“I meant what I said. We’re attending a very formal occasion.”
Leela crossed her arms. “I do not want your robes, Narvin.”
“There’s nothing wrong with these robes! They’re CIA standard issue-”
Leela’s tone slipped, from irritated to genuinely upset. “That is what is wrong with them!”
Narvin sat back, still holding the robes. He hadn’t anticipated this. “You despise the agency that much?”
Leela turned away from him, her mouth twisting bitterly. “Andred wore this when he became Torvald.”
“Ah, I see.” Narvin wished he’d thought of that sooner. He didn’t want Leela to think that he had forgotten about Andred. He hadn’t - after his mistake of trusting Darkel, the whole business with Andred and Torvald was one of the biggest debacles of Narvin’s career, and he still felt a sting just thinking about it. Considering that Narvin had more or less caused Andred to go undercover, and had then failed to notice it, before helping Darkel to the point where she drove Romana to consult Pandora, which had in turn led to Andred being killed, a good portion of the blame belonged to Narvin. It was all a series of extremely unfortunate misjudgements on his behalf - anything but professional.
He busied himself with the flight controls, then stared out at the slopes of vast Mount Cadon, glowing red in the dusk, as they zipped past. Leela remained silent, and even though she could not see, Narvin couldn’t make himself turn around to look at her.
“Andred was... a good agent,” Narvin said.
“I do not want to hear this!”
“No, Leela, listen to me. Andred was a better agent than Torvald ever was because he did what he did for Gallifrey. I can’t agree with his methods, but I respect his intentions. His death was a tragedy that could have been avoided if only I’d realised soon what was going on right under my nose.”
Only at the time, Narvin had never suspected that anything was wrong with Torvald. He’d simply thought that regeneration had much improved Torvald’s work ethic. Andred had seemed keen and loyal, focused on the job rather than power politics, and Narvin had enjoyed working with him. He hadn’t just been a good agent. He’d been a good second in command, a good sounding board for ideas, a good... right hand man, Narvin supposed the appropriate term was - it was, in any case, more professional than ‘friend’.
Leela made no sound but an indrawn breath. Then, after another long pause, she spoke, her voice harsh. “Romana sent me to spy on you.”
“Oh,” Narvin said, not sure whether to be upset because still thought he deserved to be distrusted or upset because he’d been fooled a second time.
“But I will not be a spy.” Leela’s voice trembled a little. It was impossible to tell whether in anger or fear. “Not for her, not for you, not for anyone. Not... not after what it did to Andred. I will not become like him!”
She attempted to rise from her seat, which in a craft as small as the flyer wasn’t a good idea when you were flying at full speed and navigating the treacherous updrafts of Mount Cadon. Narvin tried to placate her.
“I really see no danger of that ever happening. You’ll never make a good spy.”
Leela’s breathing calmed a little, and she lowered her voice to a normal level. “You think so?”
“I do. Trust me.”
She laughed bitterly. “Do you say that as a spy?”
“I say that as someone whose first choice of career wasn’t the CIA,” Narvin told her. “When I entered basic training, I found this immensely frustrating. Machines don’t dissemble or act illogically. They obey their own laws to a fault. You can be a perfectly good data technician without ever coming across a moral dilemma. As a spy, you don’t just have to make compromises. You have to compromise yourself. You can’t afford trust or friendship or honour. To uphold your most precious ideals, you sometimes have to betray them. That’s what Andred tried to do, and it broke him. It would break you too, if you ever tried it.”
“It did not break you.”
Narvin glanced at Leela, unsure if that was a question, or a statement, or an expression of doubt.
“No,” he said. “I find it doesn’t affect me very much.”
*
Leela hadn’t been this upset since she’d lost her sight, perhaps even since Andred died. Talking to Narvin had torn up all the old, badly healed wounds. She knew, in her heart of hearts, that the robes didn’t really mean anything. The Doctor had once said to her, when she had asked him why he wore such a long scarf, “It’s not the clothes that make the man, Leela, it’s the man who makes the clothes. And I don’t mean the formidable lady who knitted this scarf, because she certainly isn’t a man.” Which was the kind of thing the Doctor said, and you never knew if he was being a wise man or a fool, but Leela thought he was right.
Some clothes had real power, like the sash of the president worn here on Gallifrey, or the ceremonial garb of the shaman of the Sevateem, but they had power because they were tools, man-made and useful, not because of the way they looked. The power of these CIA robes lay only in her mind, it worked only if she let it, and Leela was afraid of them because she didn’t know if she was stronger than they were. Once she had thought she was stronger than Andred, but was she really? This was a fight where a good blade and a strong arm were useless, where all she had was her heart, and that felt tired and ragged, worn out like the leather sole of a boot one has walked too far in.
“We’ll be arriving in less than ten microspans,” Narvin announced next to her, and she could hear him rubbing his temples, and then reaching for his staser again with the soft slide of gloves over metal. It was an oddly comforting sound. Clearly, Narvin expected trouble, and trouble was the only thing left that gladdened Leela’s heart. “Tell me,” she asked, straightening, “why is it that you need a gun to visit your tribe?”
“I’m not planning to use it,” Narvin replied, shifting uncomfortably. “It’s merely a precaution. If it does come to a fight, we’d be outnumbered. So, please, Leela, do try and refrain from provoking anyone.”
“Outnumbered? Do many of your people live where we are going?”
“Usually not, but today is a special occasion. I suppose I might as well tell you. I’m attending a wake, and the reading of a will.”
“Someone has died?”
Narvin chuckled darkly. “Oh yes, somebody has. You were even there, Leela.”
“I was? But I have never met any of your relatives!” Narvin had to be mistaken - or maybe he had kept it to himself? Leela tried to remember if any of the people who had died in the war had especially upset Narvin. She couldn’t think of anyone, but then, she had not been paying much attention to Narvin’s feelings, since like most Time Lords, he was doing his best to pretend he didn’t have any, and Leela usually had enough trouble puzzling out Romana’s. “Who is it?”
“Inquisitor Prime Darkel,” Narvin said, savouring the reveal.
“Darkel!” Leela exclaimed, her hand finding her blade instinctively. “She is your relative?”
“Not a close one, but she certainly was,” Narvin said evenly. “Don’t be so surprised Leela. Most of the old Houses are related to each other. Why, I believe Romana and I are distant cousins of some sort, and the former President Braxiatel was, among other, less reputable connections, related to President Flavia-”
“It is not that,” Leela interrupted to stop Narvin from unearthing his entire family tree. “Everyone was related to everyone else in my tribe, too.”
“Of course I’m not talking about actual blood relations,” Narvin continued, ignoring her. “If we still procreated biologically, Gallifrey’s leading elite would be terribly inbred. There is a reason Time Lords are so superior to lesser species, and it’s not just our longevity. Most of us are the product of lots of careful genetic engineering, even if we do carry some of the genes of our parents.”
“Oh, that is not so special,” Leela said, mostly to irritate Narvin because he was irritating her with his arrogance. “On my world, there was a mad computer who bred people like animals, just as you do with your children. My tribe, the Sevateem, were selected for being strong and brave fighters who could survive in the forest, while the Tesh lived in their base with all their machines and became very smart - so smart that they could do psychic tricks with their minds.”
It turned out that Narvin was not so much irritated by this as stunned. “I, well, I certainly never guessed your people had anything like advanced eugenics. I was led to believe they were simply primitive humans.”
“There is no need to sound so impressed,” Leela said, even more annoyed. “It was not a good thing!”
“Even so, you have to admit it worked - at least judging by you. I can’t imagine hat there are many humans as suited to violence and survival as you are - and with none of the usual defects of inbreeding, too,” Narvin said in a tone so smug it made Leela want to demonstrate some of that violence. She heard him operating the flight controls, then he said, in a more sober tone of voice, “I am not attending this wake out of any courtesy to my family or Darkel, Leela. You have to understand - House Stillhaven is extremely conservative. None of us supported Romana when she came into office, and Stillhaven became more opposed to her with every reform she tried to push through. Traditionally, there is a hardly a house more respectable or politically stable than my family, and it certainly wouldn’t have occurred to any cousin of Stillhaven to oppose a lawfully elected president in the past - but I fear that may have changed.”
“They are our enemies.”
“That depends on who you mean by ‘us’.”
“Romana, and anyone who is loyal to her. Who else would I mean?”
“Of course, I forgot,” Narvin muttered. “But that isn’t all. Braxiatel was hardly popular among my house either, and whatever they thought of Matthias before the election, now he has defeated Darkel and has been handed the presidency by Braxiatel, I’m certain they view him as Romana’s man.”
“Even though he is not.”
“It may be too soon to judge that.” Narvin’s tone made Leela think that either he knew more than she did, or was pretending to know more - you never quite knew with Time Lords, they all liked to do that. “Anyway, it doesn’t really matter at the moment. What matters is that the renowned House of Stillhaven believes that Matthias is as bad as Romana, and since I am loyal to the president, I must be as bad as him. Which is frankly ridiculous, and not why I expected of my family, since I’ve always made it exceedingly clear that I approve of none of Romana’s more radical reforms-”
“They are your enemies, too,” Leela summarised.
Narvin sighed wearily. “Yes. The letter that nearly poisoned me? It was my invitation to the wake.”
Part Two