Doctor Who (2005–…): Season 8, Episode 8 - Mummy on the Orient Express - full transcript

- Start the clock.

Ripped By mstoll

ls there some sort of fancy dress thing
on this evening?

I don't think so. Why do you ask?

Well, that fellow over there,

dressed as a mummy monster thing.

Who do you mean? I can't see him.

Um. you!

You! Throw that man
out of my dining car.

It's disgusting.

I'm sorry, madam. Which man?



Which man? I'll have your job.

That man, right there,
dressed as a monster.

Mama, there isn't anyone there.
Are you feeling okay?

Don't you dare lie to me, girl.

I won't be made a fool of.

Stop it. Stop it.

Stop him at once. Right now.

Mama, there's no one there.

You're worrying me.
Do you want one of your pills?

Not a step further. Oh, no! Get it off!

Oh, no, get it oh?

Oh! Is there a doctor?
Sorry, I need... I need a doctor!

Sorry, I don't know,
she just stopped.

Your train awaits, my Lady.



Wonderful.

The baggage car.

But thanks for lying.

The real wonderful is through here.

There were many trains
to take the name Orient Express,

but only one

in Space!

Of course it is.

Completely faithful recreation
of the original Orient Express.

Except slightly bigger. And in space.

Oh, and the rails
are actually hyperspace ribbons.

Painstaking attention to detail.

Most of the time.

- You're doing it again.
- Doing what?

- The smile.
- Yeah, I'm smiling.

Yeah, it's the sad smile.

It's a smile but you're sad.

It's confusing.
It's like two emotions at once.

- It's like you're malfunctioning.
- Sorry.

I just thought that this would be
a good one to...

To end it? Yeah.

It is. It's a good choice.

Good one to end on.

- Yeah?
- Mmm-hmm.

- Shall we?
- Mmm-hmm.

Ladies and gentlemen,
if you would be good enough

to look from the windows
on the right of the train,

you'll be able to see

the soaring majesty
of the Magellan black hole.

Ah, I remember when this was all planets
as far as the eye could see.

All gone now.

Gobbled up by that beast.

And there's that smile again.
I don't even know how you do that.

I really thought I hated you, you know?

Well, thank God
you kept that to yourself.

There was this planet, Obsidian.

- Planet of perpetual darkness.
- I did.

I did hate you.
In fact, I hated you for weeks.

Good, fine.
I'm glad that we cleared that up.

But there was also a planet
that was made completely of shrubs.

I went to a concert once.

Can't remember who it was.
But do you know what the singer said?

Well, frankly, that would be
an absolutely astonishing guess

- if I did know.
- She said,

"Hatred is too strong an emotion to
waste on someone that you don't like."

Were people really confused?
'Cause I'm confused.

- Did everybody leave?
- Shut up.

Look, what I'm trying to say is

I don't hate you.

I could never hate you.

But I can't do this any more,
not the way you do it.

Can I talk about the planets now?

Yes.

Go!

Thedion Four, constant acid rain.

Had a lovely picnic there once,
wearing a gas mask.

That's a lie.

I'm sorry?

That's a lie, what you said.

Thedion Four was destroyed
thousands of years ago,

so you couldn't have been there.

Miss Pitt, are you sure
you wouldn't rather rest in your room?

That man's a liar.

Perhaps you'd allow
Mr Carlyle here to escort you back.

It'll be all right, Miss.
Just come with me.

Sorry about that.

I suppose it's understandable
in the circumstances.

I don't believe we've been introduced.

Captain Quell.

I'm Clara. This is the Doctor.

Ah, another one.

Sorry? Another what?

Well, we've got doctors and professors
coming out of our ears on this trip.

So, what are you a doctor of?

Now, there's a question
that's never asked often enough.

Let's say

intestinal parasites.

I'm beginning to think
Miss Pitt was right about you.

What's wrong with her?
Did something happen?

You mean, you really don't know?

There's a body and there's a mummy.

I mean, can you not just get on a train?

Did a wizard put a curse on you
about mini-breaks?

Might be nothing.
Old ladies die all the time.

It's practically their job description.

And the monster?

Well, seen by no one except her,

which suggests that it wasn't there.

Dying brain, lack of oxygen,
hallucinations.

Anyway, people do just die sometimes.

She was over 100 years old.

Says the 2,000-year-old man.

Clara, you actually sound as if
you want this to be a thing.

Do you?

No.

No, look, fine.

You know, if you think
that there is nothing to worry about,

then that is fine by me.

- Are you sure?
- Ah, yes, I'm sure.

To our last hurrah.

Oh, last, yeah.

But I mean, it's not like
I'm never going to see you again.

Isn't it?

Is it?

I thought that's what you wanted.

No, well, I mean, you know,
you're going to come round

for dinner or something, aren't you?
Do you do that?

Do you come round
to people's houses for dinner?

Of course. Why wouldn't I do that?

I don't know.
I thought you might find it boring.

- Is it boring?
- No.

To the last hurrah.

The last hurrah.

It's nothing. Nothing.

Definitely sure,

99% sure.

Really? 99%?

That's quite high.

Is that the figure you're sticking with?

Okay, okay. Seventy-five.

Well, that's jumped quite a bit.
You've just lost 24%.

A train in space.

- Sound's pretty cool.
- So what are you saying?

Just because he's brought me
somewhere cool,

I shouldn't dump him?

Well, one, you can't dump him
because he's not your boyfriend

and two, dumping him sounds
a little scorched-earth.

You still basically get on.

I think you should just enjoy
your space train.

At least it's not dangerous.

Yeah. It's pretty...

boring, really.

Because you know
what this sounds like, don't you?

No, do tell me.

A mummy that only the victim can see.

I was being rhetorical.

I know exactly what this sounds like.

Doctor, are you awake?

Beautiful bit of kit, isn't it, sir?

The Excelsior Life Extender.

It's like driving around
in a portable hospital.

Yes, well, it didn't do Mrs Pitt
much good, did it?

Mmm. Got me there, sir.

Certainly got me there.

Maybe it malfunctioned.

Oh, I don't think so.

The records show that the machine did
everything it could to keep her alive.

Yeah. And almost
drained the battery doing it.

What do you know?

Well, I know that when I find a man

fiddling with a chair
that someone died in,

it's best to play my cards
close to my chest.

Really?

Well, I know that when I find a man

loitering near a chair
that someone died in,

I do just the same.

Perkins.

Chief Engineer.

The Doctor.

Nosy parker.

Pleased to meet you, Doctor.

Course, there's a rumour that someone
or something else might be responsible.

Hello?

Are you okay?

Hello? Excuse me?

Excuse me?

Miss Pitt, wasn't it?

Are you all right?
Do you need some help?

My name's Maisie. I'm not mad.

Oh, okay. Um, I didn't say you were.
But you've had a bad day.

I think anybody could do with a little
bit of help after a day like today.

Computer, open the door.

Call me Gus.

I'm afraid this door can only be opened
by executive order.

Are you... Are you okay?

They won't let me see her body.

They should let me see her body,
shouldn't they?

Uh, yeah, I should think so.
It's in there, is it?

Okay, I have a friend
who's really good with locks.

Do you want to come with me,
see if we can find him?

Ooh!

Or you could do that
because that works, too.

What's the most interesting thing
about the Foretold?

I'm terribly sorry,
I don't believe we've met.

You know, the Foretold, mythical mummy.

Legend has it that if you see it,
you're a dead man.

Yes, I know what it is.
You see, I happen to be...

Emil Moorhouse,
professor of alien mythology.

I'm the Doctor. Pleased to meet you.

So the most interesting thing
about the Foretold. Go!

Uh, well, it would have
to be the time limit

given before it kills you.

I can't think of another myth
where it's so specific.

How does it go? Urn...

The number of evil twice over.

They that bear the Foretold's stare
have 66 seconds to live.

No, no, no. Nice try. Very atmospheric.

But that's not it. Try again.

A cynical man might say that you were
trying to pump me for information.

The myth of the Foretold
first appeared over 5,000 years ago.

In some stories,
there is a riddle or secret word

that is supposed to make it stop.

Some characters try to bargain with it,

offer riches, confess sins.
All to no avail.

Well, you certainly know
a little mythology.

I know a lot.

Because from time to time,
it turns out to be true.

- What's that?
- What?

What is that?

But that's the great appeal, isn't it?

- You can't see him?
- Earth legends are such dry,

dusty affairs and always fiction.

But up here, in the stars,

- anything's possible.
- Get it away!

That's why I chose
this field, to be honest,

hoping one day
I might meet a real monster.

Isn't that everyone's dream?

But you still haven't
answered my riddle.

What's the most interesting thing
about the Foretold?

Well, you can't run from it,
that's for sure.

There are accounts of people trying
but it never works.

No matter how far you run,
it's always right there behind you.

- There's nothing there!
- There's nothing there.

- Can't you see it?
- Calm down.

- Get it away! Get it away!
- What's wrong with him?

- Get it away! Get it away!
- No.

Get it away! Get it away!

- What is going on?
- Stumpy, open the door.

Open the door!

He's unhinged!

No! Stumpy!

Nope. Even colder.

- All right, I give up, you tell me.
- Mrs Pitt, the old woman who died.

She died of old age.
Nothing supernatural.

No. That's my answer.

Her death?

No. The fact that you were here
to witness it.

Excuse me, Professor.

It was a heart attack.

And if I hear anyone spreading rumours
to the contrary,

they'll be getting off
at the next station,

termination papers in hand.
Are we clear?

- Do you know what you're doing?
- Nope.

But I do need to be slightly
more skilled than a high-heeled shoe.

- Oh.
- Mmm.

Do you ever wish bad things on people?

Oh, yeah. All the time.

Whoever designed this door, for a start.

She wasn't really my mum.

She just made me call her that.
She was my gran.

Do you know why I wanted
to see her body?

Because you loved her very much
and were missing her?

You obviously never met her.

No, I just felt really guilty.

Like I'd been picturing her dying
for years.

Like a daydream.

Not really meaning it.
At least, I don't think I did.

But now, it just feels like
I made this happen.

Hey, listen,

you didn't do anything wrong.

Difficult people,
they can make you feel

all sorts of things.

But you didn't do it.
You didn't kill her.

She just died.

Are you sure about that?

I think we need to talk.

This matter does not
concern the passengers.

I'm not a passenger.

I'm your worst nightmare.

A mystery shopper. Oh, great.

Really? That's your worst...

Okay, I'm a mystery shopper.

I could do with an extra pillow

and I'm very disappointed
with your breakfast bar

and all of the dying.

This is not exactly
within your job description.

Come on, Captain. Where would we be
if we all followed our job descriptions,

hmm? Good question. Glad you asked.

In your case, you'd be doing something

instead of climbing inside a bottle.

I have followed the procedure
for accidental death to the letter.

Yes, I'm sure you have.

And I'm sure you do just enough
of your job to avoid complaints.

You don't know anything about me.

Wounded in battle, honourable discharge.

And this is just a guess, but I think
you've had the fight knocked out of you.

You expected this to be a cushy desk job

where you could put your head down
until retirement.

Well, I'm sorry.

As of today, that dream is over.

There is no evidence of any attack
or other parties...

Yes, let's just sit around
and wait for the evidence

while the bodies pile up.

Or here's a crazy thought,

we could do something to stop it.

Why am I even talking to you?

Uh, passenger manifest,
plan of the train

and a list of stops
for the past six months.

Quick work, Perkins.

Maybe too quick.

Yes, sir.

I'm obviously the mummy.

Or perhaps
I was already looking into this.

This Doctor,

he's your what, exactly?

Hmm. He's not my anything.

Oh, you mean you're just friends.

Yeah, of course
we're just friends.

Well,

we're not even friends, not any more.

Well, that clearly isn't true.

No, it's true. It is. It's very true.

- You do seem to be here together.
Seriously?

We're stuck in this carriage,
probably all night,

and all we can talk about is some man?

Some man?

Not that kind of...

Look, we, um...

We knocked about together,
we travelled and now we're stopping.

This is a...

I don't know, goodbye to the good times.

Were the good times all like this?

Yeah.

Now that you mention it.

No! No! Get it out!

66 seconds. It fits the myth.

- Did you see the lights flicker?
- Mmm.

Yeah, the lights went in the kitchen
as well, just before the chef saw it.

In all of the accounts,

conventional weapons have no effect
on the Foretold.

It's immortal, unstoppable.

Unkillable.

Can we get a new expert?

- Oh, he was wrong.
- Yes. Yes. Yes, he was.

And high-handed and thoughtless

and arrogant beyond belief.

Exactly.

And you got on a train with him.

I was saying goodbye.

You can't end it on a slammed door.

Yes, you can. Anyone can do it.

People do it all the time.

Except, of course, when they can't.

Life would be so much simpler
if you liked the right people,

people you're supposed to like.

But then I guess there'd be
no fairy tales.

- Doctor?
- Wake up, sleepyhead,

time for breakfast.
Knowing this train, it'll taste amazing.

- Doctor, please, I'm in trouble.
- Can't even get that right, huh?

- Doctor...
- Bad food on trains is traditional.

- Doctor, please, just...
- Listen.

There's been another mummy murder.

So our last hurrah just became
a bit more interesting.

- I'm trapped!
- What?

Where are you?

Clara!

- Is that you?
- Yes. Yes. Hello. Uh, can you hear us?

Ooh!

Computer, can you open the door, please?

Call me Gus.

I'm afraid this door can only be opened
by executive order.

Oh, forget it.

Now the stupid sonic screwdriver's
not working.

What do you mean it's not working? Why?

I don't know. Some sort of
suppression field, I would guess.

And it has to be a guess
because, as I say,

the stupid sonic screwdriver's
not working.

What are you even doing in there?

Well, I was looking for you,
Mr Nothing To Worry About.

What, was I supposed to waken you up?

Drag you out of bed
because I had a hunch?

Thought you didn't want
to do this any more.

Look, please,
can we just not do this now?

I think we might not be alone in here.

There's a sarcophagus.

Is it in there?

I think we might
just be about to find out.

Turns out the sonic is working,
just not on the door we need.

Clara, it's coming.

Doctor?

Doctor, it's okay.
It's full of bubble wrap.

- Did the lights...
- Doctor, move away from the door.

- My friend's inside.
- Then they're in trouble, too.

I spoke to head office.

There is no mystery shopper.

You're not even on the passenger list.

Clara, I'm going to have
to call you back.

You know, I'm going to have to
mark you down for this.

You are not a mystery shopper.

For all I know,
you're the one behind the killings.

Oh, come on, Captain.

How many people have to die
before you stop looking the other way?

Get back!

Stay back!

What do you think you're doing, man?

Please stop! No!

Get up now! That's an order!

Don't, please, don't...

It turns out it's three.

The amount of people that had to die
before I stopped looking the other way.

Thank you.

Same as the others.

Ladies and gentlemen, could I have
a moment of your time, please?

There's a monster on this train

that can only be seen
by those about to die.

If you do see it,
you will have exactly 66 seconds left

in which to live.
But that isn't even the strangest thing.

Do you know what is?

You.

The passengers.

Experts in alien biology,
mythology, physics.

If I was putting together a team
to analyse this thing,

I'd pick you.

And I think somebody has.

Someone of immense power and influence

has orchestrated this whole trip.

Someone who I have no doubt
is listening to us right now.

So, are you going to step out
from behind the curtain

and give us our orders?

The engines. They've stopped.

And the facade drops away

because what use are
a bunch of scientists without a lab?

Teleporter?

No.

Hard light holograms.

They were never really here.

Fake passengers to make up the numbers.

That was my best guard.

Good morning, everyone.

Around the room, you will find
a variety of scientific equipment.

Your goal is to ascertain
the Foretold's true nature,

probe for weaknesses
with a view to capture,

after which we will reverse engineer
its abilities.

Isn't this exciting?

You said "capture", implying that
you can't control this thing.

And yet somehow you got it
on board. How?

There is an artefact, an ancient scroll.

I have highlighted it
for your convenience.

For reasons currently unknown,

the Foretold appears in the vicinity
of this artefact.

And kills at regular intervals.

Then just maybe we should just
throw this thing out in the airlock.

- No! No! No!

Looks like they've thought of that.

What if we say no?

Down tools.

Refuse to work.

That is your choice, of course.

But it would be very upsetting
were you all to die

at the hands of the Foretold.

So hurry up before it kills you.

But even if they agree to this,

how are they supposed to study
a creature they can't even see?

We don't even know what the species is.

Perkins, start the clock.

Approximately 1.8 metres tall.

Actually, seeing it in the flesh

isn't nearly as rewarding
as I thought it might be.

Oh, dear. Hard cheese.
What can you see? Details.

Yes. Yes, of course. Of course.
Well, it just looks like, urn,

a man in bandages. I...

- What kind of bandages? Old? New?
- Old.

- Whole? Ragged?
- Ragged. Falling off in places.

I don't know what you
want me to tell you!

Listen to me! You can see this thing.
We can't.

Tell us what you can see.

Even the smallest detail
might help us save the next one.

The next one?

You mean, you can't save me?

Well, that is implied, isn't it?

Yes, this is probably the end for you.

But make it count! Details, please!

- Um, flesh, some of it is visible...
- 30 seconds.

Leathery. Ancient-looking.
Peat-bog preserved.

Keep talking! Don't waste this chance!

- I want to bargain for my life.
- What?

In some of the myths it says
if you find the right word,

make the right offer,
then it lets you go.

This is not a myth. This is real.
Forget your superstitions.

Tell us what you can see!

This is my life! My death!

I'm going to fight for it how I want!

- I... I give you my soul.
- Ten seconds.

I confess all my sins.
I give you all my worldly goods.

Only, please, please, please. No!

Zero.

We apologise for any distress

you may have just experienced.

Grief counselling is available
on request.

On the bright side, I'm sure
you've all collected a lot of data.

Well done, everyone!

It's recording every death.

Of course it is.

That's why we're here.

To study our own demise.

So let's get to work.
Come on. Chop, chop.

Clara Oswald.

Okay. So first things first,

the sarcophagus is actually
a secure stasis unit.

Yes. It's where they want us
to put the Foretold if we capture it.

Well, that would have been good to know.

Sorry. Teeny bit busy round here.
What else?

Please terminate your call

and return to work.

I have some paperwork.

Passenger manifests from other ships.

Maisie recognised a couple of the names.

These are missing ships.

- So we're not the first.
- No.

Please terminate your call
and return to work.

I've got some progress reports.
The Gloriana

spent three days
getting picked off by the Foretold.

All died. Performance marked as "poor".

Warning,
decompression imminent.

Please vacate the area.

Ah!

The Valiant Heart.

Forty-two crew, four died.
Performance "promising".

Please terminate the call
and return to work.

I think you should do as it says.

Clara, I have to go.

I'm sorry. I know that must
have been distressing for you.

But if you are disobedient again,

I will decompress another area

containing less valuable passengers.

Less valuable passengers?

How does it choose?

Well, I'm assuming qualifications...

No, no, no.
Not the computer, the Foretold.

How does it choose who to kill?

We've assumed it's random.
What if it's not?

I want full histories
on all the victims.

Medical, social, personal.

Well done.

Don't mention it.

Doesn't seem to be any pattern.

Their travel history,
interests, health...

It's all over the shop.

Health? Are you sure?

Mrs Pitt, the first victim.
She was over 100 years old,

the frailest passenger on board.

But the next to go, the chef,
was young and fit. It's random.

The chef was ill.

What?

A rare blood disorder.

Not contagious but we kept it quiet.

Because he worked with food.

The next one, the guard?

He wasn't ill, as such

but he did have synthetic lungs
implanted last year.

Professor Moorhouse.

It seems he was physically fine
but suffering from...

Here we are. Regular panic attacks
after a car crash last year.

It's picking off the weakest first.

Sensing the illness somehow.

The fake organs,
even psychological issues.

But this is good news

because it means we can work out
who is next.

I want the medical records
of everybody alive

who is still on board.

If anyone's had as much as a cold,
I want to know about it.

You really think it can sense
psychological issues?

It seems so. Why?

When you said I'd lost the stomach
for a fight,

I wasn't wounded in battle, as such
but my unit was bombed.

I was the sole survivor.

Not a scratch on me.

But post-traumatic stress...

Nightmares.

I still can't sleep without pills.

Which means that you are probably next.

- Which is good to know.
- Well, not for me.

Well, of course, not for you
because you're going to die.

But I mean, for us,
from a research point of view.

You know, for a doctor,
your bedside manner...

Well, there's goes our head start.
Perkins, start the clock.

What can you see?

Almost feels

out of focus.

Gives me a headache just looking at it.

Oh, no, no, no. That didn't work before.

What kind of soldier would I be
dying with bullets in my gun?

- Fifty seconds.
- Someone shut that man up!

For the record, it didn't even flinch.

Where is it now?

Approximately 20 feet in front of me
and closing.

- Forty seconds.
- Am I close?

It's passing right through you,
like a ghost.

It's not a hologram.

If you move, will it follow?

Do you want me to move?
Because I can certainly do that.

Keep looking at it.
But back off quick as you like.

It's teleported away.

It's behind me.

- Twenty seconds.
- I think this is it.

Still, suppose it's not a bad way to go.

Blood pumping,

enemy at the gates and all that.

And thank you, Doctor,

for waking me up.

It's reaching for me.

Hands on my head.

Zero.

Teleporter, that means tech.

Then 66 seconds, to do what?

66 seconds.
That seems very, very specific.

Too specific for organic.
So, what? More tech?

What? More?
A countdown clock? Something charging?

A man just died in front of us.
Can we not just have a moment?

Oh, no, no, no.
We can't do that. We can't mourn.

People with guns to their heads,
they cannot mourn.

We do not have time to mourn.

Everybody, what takes 66 seconds
to charge up

or to change state? Anyone?

Am I surrounded by idiots?

If only I could see this thing!

Don't even joke about that.

I'm not joking about it.

One minute with me and this thing,
it would be over!

You know, Doctor,
I can't tell if you're a genius

or just incredibly arrogant.

Well, on a good day, I'm both.

Ancient tech.

This thing has been around
for centuries. How?

Tech that keeps it alive.

Tech that drains energy
from the living.

Scanner!

Deep tissue scan.

He's been leached of almost
all energy on a cellular level.

The heart attack is just a...
is just a side effect.

Oh, it's not just a mummy,
it's a vampire.

Metaphorically speaking.

But why take 66 seconds to drain us?

Why not just pounce?

Phase. Moving energy out of phase.

That takes about a minute, doesn't it?

That's why only the victims can see it.

It takes them out of phase
so it can drain their energy.

You, sir, are a genius!
This explains everything.

Apart from what it is
and how it's doing it.

Sorry, I jumped the gun there

with the "you're a genius,
that explains everything" remark.

Doctor,

I think we know the next victim.

Ah, of course.

That makes perfect sense.

Look, she's had a bad day, that's all.

Clara, it doesn't care.

Her bad day, her bereavement,

her little breakdown puts her
squarely in its crosshairs.

She's next.

Every simulation we've run confirms it.

Okay, but... But we're in here and
if we stay in here, that thing can't...

This thing can teleport.

We need her here.
Even the computer agrees.

Okay, so you can save her? Right?

Of course not. Why would you think that?

This is another chance
to observe it in action.

As it kills her.

Of course as it kills her.

If it happens in there,
it'll be a waste

so bring her to us.

How?

How, exactly?
She's never going to agree to this.

Well, I don't know. Lie to her.

Tell her I can save her.
Whatever it takes to get her here.

What's he saying?

He says...

He says he can save you.

I knew he could get us out of there!

I told you, he's a good man.

Yes. Yes, he is.

And to be honest, I don't know
how convinced I am

by this "trauma sense" thing,

but if the Doctor says
he can help me anyway...

I mean, that has to be a good thing,
doesn't it, Clara?

Hello again. I'm Maisie.

- Good for you.
- Huh?

We passed the Tardis on the way here.

Thought about getting inside,

hiding, pulling the levers
and hoping for the best.

But we couldn't even get in.

There was a force field around it.

It's probably Gus trying to block
our escape route.

But how does he even know what it is?

'Cause if he knows what it is,
then he knows what you are.

Well, he has tried
to entice me here before.

Free tickets, mysterious summons,
he even phoned the Tardis one night.

- Do you know how difficult...
- You knew.

You knew this was no relaxing break.

You knew this was dangerous.

I didn't know. I certainly hoped.

Okay, this. You see, this.
This is why I'm leaving you. This.

Because you lied. You lied to me again.

And now you've made me lie.
You've made me your accomplice.

What? Sorry?

When did you lie? Clara?

Maisie, I am... I am so sorry.

- Do we start the clock?
- Not yet.

Focus. Focus. Focus!

All of that is your grief,

your trauma,

your resentment.

And now it's mine.

It's gone!

No. No, it's not. Not for me.

Because now it thinks I'm you.

Start the clock.

Hello.

I'm so pleased to finally see you.

I'm the Doctor
and I will be your victim this evening.

Are you my mummy?

But you can't hurt me
until my time is up. I think.

So are there magic words?

Is there a way
to stop you in your tracks?

Oh, you really didn't like your gran,
did you?

There's something visible
under the bandages.

By the way, you weren't being paranoid.

She really did poison your pony.

Oh!

Markings like the ones on the scroll.

- Oh, and your father. Sorry.
- What?

A tattered piece of cloth attached to
a length of wood that you will kill for.

- Thirty seconds.
- That doesn't sound like a scroll.

That sounds like... A flag!

And if that sounds like a flag,

if this is a flag, that means that you

are a soldier!

Wounded in a forgotten war
thousands of years ago.

But they've worked on you,
haven't they, son?

They've filled you full of kit.

State-of-the-art phase camouflage,
personal teleporter.

Ten seconds.

And all that tech inside you,
it just won't let you die, will it?

It won't let the war end.

It just won't let you stop
until the war is over.

We surrender!

Zero.

I can see it again.

It's okay. I think we all can.

- Do I start the clock?
- No.

The clock has stopped.

You're relieved, soldier.

He's not the only one.

- We were fighting that?
- So was he.

Listen, what I said...

Save it. We're not out of the woods yet.

Well, Gus, I think we solved
your little puzzle.

Ancient soldier being driven
by malfunctioning tech.

Thank you so much
for your efforts.

They are greatly appreciated.

Unfortunately, survivors
of this exercise are not required.

Ah, well, there's a shocker.

Air will now be removed
from the entire train.

We hope you have enjoyed
your journey on the Orient Express.

I take it you know a way out?

My enemy's enemy is my friend.

Especially when he
has a built-in teleporter.

Great! So use it!

- A little more work.
- Doctor!

Couple of minutes max.

I'll give you a shout.

Oh, hello, again. Sleep well?

Weren't we just on a train?

Oh, that was ages ago.

And?

And what?

Oh, and, uh, we got off the train.

Oh, well, the teleporter
worked eventually.

Beamed everyone into the Tardis.
No casualties.

Just a bevy of sleeping beauties.

I tried hacking Gus from the Tardis
to find out who set this all up.

He really didn't like that.

Set off some fail-safe thing.

Blew up the train.

- Blew up the train?
- Blew up the train.

But we got away.

I dropped everyone off
at the nearest civilised planet,

which happened to be here.

And you seemed happy asleep
so I just left you.

So you saved everyone?

No, I just saved you
and I let everyone else suffocate.

- Hmm.
- Yeah, this is just my cover story.

So when you lied to Maisie,
when you made me lie to Maisie...

I couldn't risk Gus
finding out my plan and stopping me.

So you were pretending to be heartless?

Would you like to think that about me?
Would that make it easier?

I didn't know if I could save her.

I couldn't save Quell,
I couldn't save Moorhouse.

There was a good chance
that she'd die, too.

At which point

I would have just

moved onto the next

and the next

until I beat it.

Sometimes, the only choices
you have are bad ones.

But you still have to choose.

It's, uh, quite a vehicle
you have here, Doctor.

I won't pretend
to understand half of it.

Having said that,

I did notice you've got a couple
of drive stacks need replacing.

Oh, you did, did you?

Yeah. You should get someone in.

And a job like that takes forever.

Really?

Well, I suppose whoever I did get in,

might just be easier to have them
stay on board for a while.

I don't suppose you'd know of anyone?

No.

Sorry, Doctor, but I don't think I do.

That job could, uh,

change a man.

Yes, it does. Frequently.

Well, I won't keep you.
Goodbye, Perkins.

Good to meet you.

You, too, Doctor. And, uh, good luck.

Do you love it?

Love what?

I know it's scary and difficult

but do you love being the man
making the impossible choice?

Why would I?

Because it's what you do.

All day, every day.

- It's my life.
- Doesn't have to be.

Is it like...

Like what?

An addiction?

Well, you can't really tell
if something's an addiction

till you try and give it up.

And you never have.

Let me know how it goes.

Hey, Danny. How are you?

I'm fine.

So is it done?

Yep. Mission accomplished.

Listen, I can't talk now
but I'll see you soon and, urn...

I love you.

I love you, too.

Huh. No accounting for taste.

Okay, see you soon.

Was that Danny? What did he want?

He's fine with it.

- Sorry, I...
- Danny. He's fine!

With the idea of me and you
knocking about.

It was his idea that we stop
but he's decided he doesn't mind

and neither do I.

Oh, to hell with the last hurrah,
let's keep going!

- That's a big change of heart.
- Yeah, they happen.

Seriously?

Look, as long as you get me home safe

and on time, everything is great.

I am so sorry. I've had a wobble.

It's a big wobble but it's fine.

Forget about it.
Now, shut up and give me some planets.

Well, I'm glad that you said that,

because you know that one
that's made entirely of shrubs?

- Are you sure about this?
- Are you? Have you ever been sure?

No.

Then what are you waiting for?

Let's go.

Oh, that can't be good.

Something nearby is leaching
all the external dimensions.

- Aliens?
- Possibly.

Oh, who am I kidding? Probably.

Whatever they are,
they're experimenting.

They're testing, they are...
They are dissecting.

Trying to understand us,
trying to understand

three dimensions.

Life support failing.
Ripped By mstoll