Doctor Who (1963–1989): Season 10, Episode 21 - The Green Death: Episode One - full transcript

(''DOCTOR WHO'' THEME)

- Welcome back, sir. What's the news?
- All good. How long has this been going on?

Since early this morning. They want to know
what is going to happen. We all do.

In that case, I'll tell them.

I have in my hand a piece of paper
which will mean a great deal to all of you.

Wealth in our time!

We've heard that before (!)

(SHOUTING)

When the National Coal Board
were forced to close the pit last year...

No, my friends, we must not be bitter.
We must face the facts. Coal is a dying industry!

- Rubbish!
- Oil is our future now,



and the government agrees with me.

They've not only given us
the go-ahead for our plans,

they have promised us money for future
expansion. I have it here in black and white.

(CHEERING)

Money for all of us!

More jobs. More houses. More cars.

More muck!

More devastation! More death!

- Who is that?
- It's Professor Jones. He's a troublemaker.

- The Nobel prizewinner?
- Yes. Go easy. He gets a lot of press coverage.

It seems there are some who do not agree
with my vision of the future we hold in our hands.

There are always those who resist progress.

Progress?! Don't listen to him.

He means fatter profits for Global Chemicals
at the expense of your land,



the air you breathe
and the health of you and your kids!

It's easy for you.
You can afford to live how you want to.

- We need jobs.
- We can't live on nuts.

- Can't you see you're being exploited?
- Shut up!

Wait, my friends. Professor Jones is right.

We must all share his concern.
I assure you that I and my fellow directors...

- (SIREN)
- It's the pit!

(SIREN)

(SIREN CONTINUES)

(DOCTOR HUMS)

(JO SPEAKS THROUGH
A MOUTHFUL OF APPLE)

- What?
- Sorry. Is that the dematerialisation circuit?

No. No more trouble there.
I can now take the Tardis wherever I like.

I have absolute control.

- Now that the Time Lords have forgiven you!
- Exactly.

- What is that?
- The space-time coordinate programmer.

The wretched thing's nearly worn out.
The Tardis is getting on a bit.

(MUMBLES THROUGH APPLE)

Must you?

I'm sorry! It's my breakfast. I said
no wonder we never got to Metebelis Three.

There's precious little protein in an apple.

- Protein is the thing for breakfast, Jo.
- Eggs and bacon? Ugh!

- That's where we're going to next.
- Where?

Metebelis Three.
The Tardis can't miss this time.

- I wired the coordinates into the programmer.
- Oh, no! They can't!

- I can't wait to go there.
- Criminal!

Imagine it - a blue sun!

''The ministry have given the green light
to Global Chemicals.

''Common sense has triumphed at last.''

- Don't they realise the pollution it will cause?
- Absolutely.

''The futile protests of Professor Jones...''

We might get hold
of one of those famous blue sapphires.

He won't give up. A man like Professor Jones
will never give up.

- Where are you off to?
- To pack a suitcase.

- Give me a few minutes and we'll be off.
- Off where?

- Metebelis Three.
- I'm not going to Metebelis Three!

Why? Where are you thinking of going to?

South Wales, of course.

Llanfairfach.

- Oh, Jo!
- You haven't been listening, have you?

- Honestly, Doctor...
- (BOTH) You never listen to a word I say!

(MAN) What was he doing down the pit?
(SECOND MAN) Monthly inspection.

Best prop forward we ever had.
What killed him? You're a doctor, Dr Jones.

- No, I'm a biologist. Some sort of gas, maybe?
- Why's he turned green, man?

I've no idea. That phosphorescent glow,
it's almost like you get with putrefaction.

- That's it!
- No, after several weeks.

He's been dead less than an hour.

- No, no, no!
- Doctor, it's exactly your cup of tea.

This fellow's bright green, apparently, and dead.

Lethbridge Stewart, I'm not a policeman.
Neither are you.

There are international implications.
Possibility of sabotage at Global Chemicals.

- It's UNIT's duty to protect them. My duty.
- Then do your duty, Brigadier!

Surely you must see the...

- Ah, Miss Grant. I want you to...
- I'm sorry, Brigadier, I can't.

Can't? Can I remind you...

That I am a member of UNIT -
orders, court martials and all that,

but unless you arrest me, unless you
actually seize me and fling me into a dungeon...

Now, Jo, all ready?

Oh, dear.

Doctor, I mean it. I'm going to South Wales.
They have got to be stopped!

- Who's got to be stopped?
- Global Chemicals, of course!

- Can't you see the harm this go-ahead will do?
- No, I can't.

Cheap petrol is exactly what the world needs.

No!

It's time to call a halt. It's time we all awoke
to the alarm bell of pollution,

instead of sliding down the slippery slopes of...

..whatever it is.

- A very pretty mixed metaphor.
- I recognise the style. Jones, isn't it?

- ''The Nutcake Professor'', the papers call him.
- That doesn't make him wrong.

You want to help him in his noble fight
against the windmills, down in Llanfairfach?

I'm sorry, Brigadier, I'm going to go,
even if it means resigning from UNIT.

Ah...

Well, we can discuss that
on the way down, can't we?

- You mean...
- You'll accept a lift, I trust?

Yes, Miss Grant, I'm going there, too.

Also the Doctor, I hope.

I'm going to Metebelis Three.

- I wouldn't want to order you, Doctor.
- Don't try.

Yes... Ten minutes, Miss Grant.

Metebelis Three, Jo?

Where else would you like to go?

You choose for yourself.

But I've only got ten minutes!

You've got all the time in the world
and all the space.

I'm offering them to you.

But, Doctor, don't you understand?

I've got to go! Professor Jones is fighting
for everything that's important,

everything that you've fought for.

In a funny way, he reminds me of a sort of...

..younger you...

I don't know whether to feel flattered or insulted.

- It's all right, Jo. I understand.
- Oh, Doctor! Thank you.

Jo, tell the Brigadier that I'll follow him down.

- Right.
- Later.

Right.

Bye!

Goodbye.

So...

..the fledgling flies the coop.

(WHOOSHING)

Excuse me.

Can you tell me the way
to Global Chemicals, the research place?

Stay on the straight road ahead and
you can't miss it. It's after the chapel on the hill.

- And the Wholeweal community?
- I beg your pardon, miss?

- Professor Jones.
- Oh, the Nuthutch.

You'll pass the Nuthutch on the mountain,
won't you?

- Thank you.
- You're welcome, boyo.

Boyo (!)

(MUTTERS)

- Thanks for the lift.
- Not sure that I approve, Miss Grant.

- Duty is duty when all's said and done.
- A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do...sir.

Bye!

The Doctor's no better,
off on a pleasure jaunt at a time like this.

(WHOOSHING)

(SCREECHING ROAR)

Hello?

Hello?

''Room for living.'' Hm. Like it.

Anybody home?

(MAN) Come in.

(MAN) No one in!

- You are.
- Did my stint in the fields before breakfast.

- I see. They're out in the fields.
- That's what I said. No work, no food.

- Logically, aesthetically and morally right, right?
- Right... I suppose.

Well, now... Shut the blasted door!

- Of all the silly young goats!
- What did I do?

Probably ruined a month's work.
It said on the door to watch it!

Half a degree drop and... You'll have the lot over!

Not there either. You'll contaminate my spores.

- Where can I go, for Pete's sake?
- Just try standing still.

Tell us the dreadful news.
You've come to join us, right?

Yes, in a way.

You see, I'm Jo Grant.

I rang from London. I spoke to somebody
who said her name was ''Mum''.

''Mum''? Our Nancy, that is.
Nancy with a laughing face.

She didn't tell me.

Well, why should she?

I've come to see Professor Jones, not you.

So if you could tell me where I could wait...

I said, if you could tell me...

Look... Why not just have a stool over here?
Careful, now.

That's it...

Just sit there and simmer down, all right?

We've got off on the wrong foot, haven't we?

I suppose you can't help being
a bit cloth-headed. You're only a kid.

Charming!

Hey... Welcome to the Nuthutch!

Huh!

(ECHOING ROAR)

Do you know anything about entomology?

Insects? Yes, a little.

What's got 20 legs,
a yellow body about two inches long

and big red pincers on the front end?

Don't know. Why?

There's one crawling up your left leg.

- There's nothing there.
- No. I couldn't stand the silence any longer.

(BELLOWING ROAR)

(JO ) Why ''Toadstools''?
(JONES) That's just Nancy's little joke.

This is really our new hybrid fungus. Saliota orbis.

- Pardon?
- A cousin of the mushroom that's in the shops.

- You can eat it?
- That's the whole point.

The world's gonna need to replace meat.

- High-protein fungus could be the answer.
- Yes.

We haven't set up this community just to drop out.

Let's face it, who does like the petrol-stinking,
plastic rat-trap life we all live?

To be successful here at Wholeweal,
we've got to help the entire world,

so we're a biotechnic research unit
as well as a nuthutch!

That's marvellous! Did he think of that?
The professor, I mean?

Well, I couldn't have done it
without the Nobel Prize money.

Are you Professor Jones?

Your obedient servant, ma'am!

We've sunk a lot of time and money
into this new project.

We won't allow it to be wasted! Your job is to...

I know quite well what my job is.
We'll look after you, never fear.

I'm sorry. I had no intention of...

Equally, I'm quite certain that it's my job
to find out about this man's death.

- UNIT was created because of events like that.
- I see.

What do you intend to do?

Contact the Doctor at once.
May I use your phone?

Yes, of course.

- Elgin, get an outside line, will you?
- Yes, sir.

(RINGS)

(THUDDING)

(SCREECHING ROAR)

(RINGING)

(SCREECHING ROAR)

(RINGING)

I see. Keep trying and ring me here
as soon as you do get an answer.

Yes. Right. Goodbye.

Mr Stevens, I wonder if you'd explain to me

exactly why Professor Jones and his friends
should object to your new process.

I wish I could tell you.
After all, he and the rest of the doom merchants

never stop telling us
that we're using up the world's supply of oil.

We can now produce
25% more petrol and diesel fuel

from a given quantity of crude oil.

If that isn't conservation, I don't know what is!

It's still using up the oil
and doubling atmospheric pollution.

The world has to find ways
of using the energy the sun is giving us now.

Like what?

Like using the movement of the wind
and the tides and the rivers.

Like here at the Nuthutch. You are quite warm?

- The ambient temperature's fine.
- Heat from the river.

The heat pumps works on electricity
generated by a windmill.

Alternative technology.

- No waste, no pollution!
- Exactly!

No waste? No pollution from an oil refinery?

Minimal. Negligible.

I'm no scientist, Mr Stevens,
but I find that somewhat difficult to believe.

It's one of our strongest selling points.

We're able to assure the government - indeed,
the world - that the Stevens process is clean.

The Stevens process must be based
on Bateson's polymerisation,

and that means thousands of gallons of waste.

A thick sludge you can't break down,
like a liquid plastic.

- Heaven knows what properties it would have.
- What are they going to do with it?

What are they doing with it now? I think there
must be some connection with Hughes' death.

- They're pumping the waste into the old mine?
- Could be.

- Let's go and have a look.
- That's a good idea.

- I mean like now!
- My dear good child, I've got work to do!

- You're being patronising.
- Aye, so I am.

- But I've still got work to do.
- Oh!

Shut the door!

Here we are,
nattering like the women after chapel,

and we still don't know what killed him.

- Finding out won't do him any good.
- It'd do me a lot of good.

- It could be dangerous.
- I spent 20 years down there.

- Think it scares me now?
- Why bother?

I'm going down.

Therefore I think it imperative
that nobody should go down the mine.

- It must be sealed off completely.
- I disagree, sir.

I intend to make the investigation of that mine
my first priority as soon as the Doctor arrives.

If he ever does arrive.

(SCREECHING, HOWLING ROAR)

(TELEPHONE RINGS)

(WHOOSHING)

Hello?

I'll speak to anyone!

OK.

At last!

Now we can get on.

Will you excuse me, sir?

- You still intend to investigate the mine?
- Indeed I do.

Hinks. At once.

Sir?

Hinks, I want you to...

I want you to...

You all right, sir?

Yes, yes.

Nobody must go down the mine.

Hinks.

Nobody must go down the mine.

Nobody.

Yes, sir.

You're sure you're all right?

Yes, of course.

Go on. Get on with it!

(TRILLING)

Maybe we shouldn't have let Dai
go down by himself.

I once tried to stop him
having a drink too many at the club,

and I can still feel the bruises!

- Who's this now, then?
- Private property, this is!

Sorry. I'm with the UNIT people and I wondered
if I could take a look down the mine.

- Not without authority, you can't.
- Oh. Where do I get it?

NCB, Cardiff.

- (PHONE BUZZES)
- Hang on a minute.

Hello. Who is it?

Dave. Help me, Dave. Help me!

- What's happened? What's the matter?
- Help me, quick! Help!

- Dai's in trouble.
- We have to get him out. I'll go.

- I'm coming, too.
- Don't be daft!

I'm trained in first aid.
That could save your friend's life.

- Take her down and look after her.
- We'll get you a helmet and lamp.

I thought you should have a look.

You're quite right. Nobody must go down
that mine until I've had a chance to do just that.

Someone's going down!

We must stop them.

Who's in the cage?

- Bert Pritchard and a lady from UNIT.
- Stop winding!

- They're going down to help Dai Evans.
- Stop winding!

- Quickly, man! Quickly!
- I can't.

- The brake won't work. It's out of control!
- What?!