Doctor Who (1963–1989): Season 15, Episode 13 - The Sun Makers: Part One - full transcript
The Tardis lands on Pluto in the far future. Instead of being a lifeless rock, there's scented air, massive buildings, six suns, a human population subjugated by crippling taxes from a government called "The Company," and a man about to commit suicide.
(DOCTOR WHO THEME)
(WINDOW OPENING)
(ELECTRONIC ALERT)
-Citizen Cordo, District Four?
-Yes.
Congratulations, Citizen.
Your father ceased at 1 :1 0.
All was well?
A fine death.
Body weight was 84 kilos at termination.
Oh, I'm gratified.
Gatherer Hade is waiting
for the death taxes.
Yes, I have them here.
Pay them at the Gatherer's office.
(HUMMING)
(SIGHING)
(DOORBELL BEEPING)
Let him enter.
Well, Citizen.
Death taxes?
-Not on the desk! It might scar.
-Oh.
Oh, it is... It is wood, your Honour.
Mmm, of a kind called mahogany.
(CHUCKLES) I don't suppose you've ever
seen wood before, have you, Citizen?
No, never.
But we learned about it
at Preparation Centre.
-Mmm.
-There was even a picture of a tree.
A fine thing.
Simply a primitive way
of producing oxygen.
Thank the Company
we have no need of trees on Pluto.
Praise the Company.
This is your account, Citizen.
I see you selected the Golden Death,
-with four mercy attendants.
-Yes, your Honour.
Well, I always pledged that when his
death day came he would not suffer.
Compassion is a noble thing, Citizen.
Also costly. 1 1 7 talmars.
One hundred and seven...?
(NERVOUSLY) No, it can't be.
See the account.
But there's a mistake.
Eighty, they said 80
for the Golden Death.
The Collector recently raised
death taxes 1 7%%.
I didn't know, your Honour.
I've been working double shifts
to earn the money.
Four mercy attendants
is now a further 1 8 talmars.
Disposal fee 1 0 talmars plus of course
an ad valorem tax of 1 0%%.
Total, 1 32 talmars.
It's all here, you see,
against that with which your father's
own personal contribution
of 7 talmars...
Only 7 talmars, Citizen?
Must have been a poor man.
He was a municipal servant
for 40 years, your Honour.
-(BORED) Oh.
-He cleaned the walkways.
And then there's
the recycling allowance.
On his death weight of 84 kilos.
That is 8 talmars.
Leaving a debt of 1 1 7.
Please, I have only 86.
It has taken me years to save it.
How do you propose to settle
the 31 talmars outstanding?
-Well, I can't.
-(HADE CHUCKLING)
Your Honour, I have nothing.
Taxes are the primary consideration,
Citizen.
I see that you are a D-grade worker
in the Foundry.
Yes, your Honour.
Fortunately,
as the Gatherer, I have certain powers.
I will encourage your supervisor
to allow you increased output.
But your Honour,
I already work a double shift now!
I have only my three hours sleep time
away from the Foundry.
Twenty-one hours a week?
You must manage without sleep time
until the debt is paid.
-It will kill me!
-Take Q capsules.
But your Honour,
the high medical tax on Q capsules...
Citizen Cordo,
you complain too much.
Thank the Company you're warm and fed.
Praise the Company.
You may go.
(HUMMING)
I am gratified, your Honour.
K9: Queen to knight six.
-There?
-Affirmative.
(LAUGHING)
(CHUCKLES)
Even simple one-dimensional chess
exposes the limitations
of the machine mind.
(DOCTOR LAUGHING)
Bishop to queen six.
Mistress.
-There?
-Affirmative.
Check, master.
What?
Machine mind computes mate in six moves.
Rubbish!
-Doctor...
-Leela, keep still.
-But Doctor, the...
-And shut up. I'm trying to concentrate.
Your move, master.
I know it's my move.
Don't flash your eyes at me.
-Wrong square.
-What?
Your king, master. Wrong square.
-Really? Are you sure?
-Affirmative.
Doctor, can I speak now?
What? All right, if you must.
What is it?
-Well, the column has stopped moving.
-So?
It is not important?
What?
We might have gone right through
the time spiral! Why didn't you tell me?
-I tried to but you wouldn't let me.
-You didn't.
-You didn't.
-I did!
It's that confounded paint.
It's always jamming things up.
Stay calm!
I'm going to materialise
and take a reading.
-(MACHINE HUMMING)
-Where are we?
We're still in the solar system.
-Pluto?
-Pluto?
Yes, Pluto.
The ninth planet.
Was until the discovery of Cassius
believed to be the outermost body
in the system.
-It has a diameter of 3,000...
-Leela, tell your tin pet to shut up.
Shh. K9, you can tell me later.
Affirmative.
Its distance from the Sun is...
Shh!
Breathable atmosphere. That's wrong.
There are buildings.
Pluto's a lifeless rock.
Leela?
I think you and I should take a...
W-A-L-K.
-W-A-L-K?
-Wuh-al-luk.
-K9: Walk, mistress.
-I know.
Ready, master.
No, no, no. You're not coming.
You stay here.
-Entreat, master.
-No.
-I'll be good.
-No!
Pluto's no place for a...
I'm sorry, K9. We won't be long.
Quite warm.
Around 20 degrees.
Very humid.
It is like Earth,
except that the air is scented.
It's all wrong.
It shouldn't be like Earth.
Unless, of course,
the Sun's turned nova.
LEELA: Doctor, look!
Fascinating.
DOCTOR:
What an engineering achievement, eh?
Don't joggle, Leela. Don't joggle.
You can look in a minute.
Must have taken them centuries
to build a city like that.
-Hey!
-What?
Come down!
Please, come back!
DOCTOR: Don't touch him!
Don't jump! Please, don't jump!
Magnificent view, isn't it?
How high is this building?
-A thousand metres.
-A thousand metres?
My!
Are we interrupting something?
Why do you say, Citizen?
Well, somehow I have the impression
you're thinking of killing yourself.
-It's the taxes.
-What?
The taxes, I can't pay the taxes.
Oh, the taxes. My dear old thing,
all you need is a wily accountant.
Would you care for a jelly baby? Hmm?
Try one.
-CORDO: What?
-They're rather good.
Now, tell us about it.
This is Leela, I'm the Doctor.
What is it, Marn?
-Air space violation, your Honour.
-Hmm?
District Four.
The data vipes also indicate
illegal landing.
-Hmm?
-Block 40.
Excellent.
There's a fine of 500 talmars
on each count.
Order my demon immediately, Marn.
We must apprehend the culprit.
Then there's the medical tax
on Q capsules
and work tax on extra hours.
I could never clear the debt.
You see, the Company charges 50%%
compound interest on unpaid taxes.
I'm only a grade D work unit,
3 talmars a shift.
3 talmars. That's not enough.
What is he saying, Doctor?
I do not understand.
He can't make ends meet.
Probably too many economists
in the government.
These taxes,
they are like sacrifices to tribal gods?
Well, roughly speaking,
but paying tax is more painful.
Well, then the people should rise up
and slaughter their oppressors!
Well, if little Cordo's at all typical,
they haven't any spirit left
for fighting. Hmm?
(SIREN WAILING)
It's the Gatherer! Quick, run!
Run, Doctor! It's the Gatherer!
If we are caught up here,
there is a fine of 5 talmars
-or a week in the Correction Centre.
-What?
It is an offence!
Only the Executive Grade is allowed
in the light of the suns.
-Suns?
-Shh.
MARN: How did it get here?
Oh, use your intelligence, Marn.
You detected an air space violation.
Clearly a sky freighter.
But what is it, your Honour?
Obviously a container.
See the lock?
He is trying to open the Tardis.
Pity K9 can't bark.
Quick! Quick!
-What is it?
-We must get away.
For someone who wanted to commit suicide
a few minutes ago,
you seem very anxious not to be caught.
Death is easy.
Perhaps you've never been
in the Correction Centre, Citizen.
Come on, Leela.
CORDO: Hurry!
It's an intriguing case, Marn.
Your Honour, it's inconceivable.
To flout so many regulations.
Exactly.
I smell something very big.
Perhaps another Kandor conspiracy.
-What was that?
-Yes, Kandor.
I never heard of it.
Yes, it wasn't made public at the time,
in case it gave others ideas.
Kandor was an Executive Grade
in Megropolis 4
who falsified computer records
for the enrichment of himself
and his fellow conspirators.
Altogether he defrauded the Company
of millions of talmars.
-Praise the Company.
-Mmm.
What happened to him?
He survived three years
in the Correction Centre.
-Three years?
-Mmm.
A record.
He was very strong.
Where are we going?
I don't know.
Why did you run?
Well, he ran first.
-Well, that's no answer.
-Why did you run?
I don't know. Odd, isn't it?
Perhaps everyone runs from the tax man.
He says you're right.
I can easily trace the delivery
and freighter records.
Whoever programmed the freighter
will have used a self-destructing print.
You mean the instruction will not
be retained in records?
But that's another illegal...
Does the robber hesitate
to break a window?
We're not dealing here, Marn,
with some snivelling tax defaulter.
This is a carefully planned
criminal enterprise.
To what end, your Honour?
To defraud the Company
of its rightful revenues
by smuggling contraband goods
into the Megropolis.
(CHUCKLING)
I see the magnitude of the offence
astounds you.
Well, it's hard to believe
such depths of criminality.
It exists, Marn. It exists.
Despite the screening
and the Preparation Centres
and the air conditioning,
criminal deviants occur
in every generation.
Enemies of the Company.
On Old Earth they had a saying.
There's one rotten acorn
in every barrel.
We must find this filth, Marn.
Find it and crush it.
The Company be praised.
How shall it be done?
I have a plan.
What's the hurry?
I must leave you here, Citizens.
-What are you going to do?
-Perhaps I can join the Others.
Who are the Others?
It is said they live in the Undercity.
Outlaws,
tax criminals, some who've escaped from
the Correction Centre.
Perhaps they will help me,
if they exist.
If you are not sure they exist,
how do you expect to find them?
I know the secret way to the Undercity.
You see, my father was an E-grade
work unit.
He cleaned the walkways all his life.
-He learned the secret.
-We'll come with you.
I'm gratified, Citizens,
but there may be danger.
No, I'm interested in this Undercity.
Always like to get
to the bottom of things.
Come on.
But you don't understand, Citizens.
My father looked in once.
He said there is no light, nothing.
It is not possible to
imagine such a thing.
You mean it is dark.
What is dark?
Well, at night, when the sun has gone.
He means there's no night
on this planet, Leela. Hmm?
That's why the concept
of darkness frightens him.
But that is not possible.
Every planet must have a night.
Not if the sidereal and axial rotation
periods are the same,
-or if there's more than one sun.
-There are six.
What, six suns on Pluto?
Well, everyone knows that.
Each Megropolis was given its own sun.
In-station fusion satellites.
Galileo would have been impressed.
-Cordo?
-Yes?
Which way?
Somewhere beyond this point
there is a metal grating in the ground.
Well, go on.
No, I can't. It's hard to see.
All the other light is failing.
Your eyes will soon grow
accustomed to the darkness.
I didn't think it would be
as bad as this.
I must turn back.
Too late.
Take your hand off that knife, Leela.
Hello. You must be the Others.
(DOOR CREAKING)
Master?
The tracker system is activated,
your Honour.
So soon?
Well done, Marn.
-What is it?
-I don't have to tell you, Marn.
(CHUCKLING)
Yes.
Get down. Go on!
We caught these three snooping
around the service subway.
You did not catch us.
We allowed you to escort us.
What are they?
They claim they're
from another planet, Mandrel.
There's no life on the other planets.
Really?
How many other planets have you been to?
Show courtesy to my rank
or I'll cut your skin off inch by inch.
I can see we're going to get
on famously.
Descend to level 42.
Where are they from?
He looks like an Ajack.
Do you think he's insulting me?
With a face like his?
-He would not dare.
-No.
Let me get him, Doctor.
I could cut his heart out.
Shh. Shh. We haven't come here to fight.
(CLEARS THROAT)
We haven't come here to fight. No.
Why did you come here, then? Hmm?
Because my new little chum here
seemed unhappy about something.
-A D-grade?
-Yes, a D-grade.
He wishes to join your tribe.
-Get him up.
-I'll get him up.
Come on, don't be frightened.
Light. Please, Doctor,
let me see some light.
Fool, there's no light down here.
Only that which we make ourselves.
Come on. Come on!
We could make a few candles out of him.
It's all he's good for, Mandrel.
-Shut up. What's your name?
-Citizen Cordo, District Four.
-Foundry or smelting?
-I'm a Foundry work unit, your Honour.
Always respectable. All my life
I've met the production quotas,
paid my dues and taxes,
praise the Company.
Stuff the Company.
Mouth those mindless pieties down here,
Citizen Cordo,
and you'll get your throat slit.
So,
you're in trouble with the Gatherer, eh?
CORDO: Yes.
I couldn't meet my father's death taxes.
It was more than I was told, and I...
It's always more than they tell you.
I've heard the story a thousand times.
You stay with us,
you'll have to earn your keep.
Oh, yes, your Honour, I'll work.
Anything.
Work?
Work, Cordo?
Nobody works here.
We go into the upper levels
and steal what we need.
Aye, and kill for our needs
when necessary.
This skin, it's real skin!
You touch me again and I'll fillet you!
A handy girl.
-Doctor?
-Hmm?
You two may be of more use
to us than I thought.
Well, I'm delighted to...
Oh, no, no, we're just tourists.
We're not staying.
On the other hand, it is quite cosy.
Don't you think it's quite cosy here?
It's turning into subway CT1 .
How I dislike the lower levels.
So very depressing.
The D-grade work units have their
dormer somewhere along there.
HADE: He's turned again, Marn.
Where is it now?
It looks like one of
the service subways, your Honour.
It is finished.
-1 ,000 talmars?
-It will do.
Well, it'd better do.
-I've got a little task for you, Doctor.
-Oh, good.
Here's a Consumcard.
We got it off an Ajack.
It's made out for 1 ,000 talmars.
1 ,000 talmars. Stolen?
-What do you think?
-Stolen.
It hasn't been used,
so it's not on the computer records.
None of us could use it.
We don't look like Ajacks.
Hmm.
What do these Ajacks look like,
if I'm pretending to be one?
I ask merely for information.
They're all miners.
They live in Megropolis 3.
Do you know how to use a Consumcard?
Oh...
Computer micro-loaded, uh...
Do you feed it into a reader?
At the Consum Bank on subway 37.
-Subway 37.
-Cordo?
You show the Doctor how to get there.
-Do not go, Doctor.
-What?
Suppose I refuse to go?
-You'll die.
-It was just a passing thought.
Well, here's another one,
in case you run off with our talmars.
If you're not back by this time...
The girl dies.
(GRUNTING)
(GROANING)
-I couldn't breathe down there.
-It was a bit stuffy.
-(CORDO SIGHING)
-But unscented.
-What is it?
-Nothing,
just an idea.
K9.
Master.
Didn't I tell you to stay in the Tardis?
Ooh!
-An Ajack, by the stamp of him.
-Hmm.
The other, the other
I've seen somewhere before.
MARN: A D-grade?
D-grade, yeah.
Of course!
He was here, only hours ago,
whining for time to pay his taxes.
What would an Ajack want with
those riff-raff of the Undercity?
HADE: Quick!
Put the tracker on the Ajack.
Your Honour, it's not possible.
The tracker system is keyed
to follow that machine.
You mean you've lost him.
We know the subways he's traversing.
We can make physical contact.
No, too soon for that.
I want to know more about this Ajack.
By my ledger, I've got it, Marn!
Your Honour?
I know what they're smuggling.
Arms.
Weapons?
Mmm. They were always an arrogant,
unsettled lot, the Ajacks.
The air conditioning isn't
effective in the mines.
It's long been recognised
that if there's ever a rebellion
against the Company,
it will start among the Ajacks.
Don't you see?
You mean he's smuggling arms
to the Undercity?
Exactly.
And if it's happening here,
it's a talmar to a toffee it's happening
in every Megropolis on Pluto.
What shall we do?
Well, I must go to the Company palace
and warn the Collector.
We need the Inner Retinue
to deal with this.
(WHISPERING) There it is, Doctor.
(ELECTRONIC BEEPING)
Tens, please.
(ALARM SOUNDING)
(COUGHING)
(WINDOW OPENING)
(ELECTRONIC ALERT)
-Citizen Cordo, District Four?
-Yes.
Congratulations, Citizen.
Your father ceased at 1 :1 0.
All was well?
A fine death.
Body weight was 84 kilos at termination.
Oh, I'm gratified.
Gatherer Hade is waiting
for the death taxes.
Yes, I have them here.
Pay them at the Gatherer's office.
(HUMMING)
(SIGHING)
(DOORBELL BEEPING)
Let him enter.
Well, Citizen.
Death taxes?
-Not on the desk! It might scar.
-Oh.
Oh, it is... It is wood, your Honour.
Mmm, of a kind called mahogany.
(CHUCKLES) I don't suppose you've ever
seen wood before, have you, Citizen?
No, never.
But we learned about it
at Preparation Centre.
-Mmm.
-There was even a picture of a tree.
A fine thing.
Simply a primitive way
of producing oxygen.
Thank the Company
we have no need of trees on Pluto.
Praise the Company.
This is your account, Citizen.
I see you selected the Golden Death,
-with four mercy attendants.
-Yes, your Honour.
Well, I always pledged that when his
death day came he would not suffer.
Compassion is a noble thing, Citizen.
Also costly. 1 1 7 talmars.
One hundred and seven...?
(NERVOUSLY) No, it can't be.
See the account.
But there's a mistake.
Eighty, they said 80
for the Golden Death.
The Collector recently raised
death taxes 1 7%%.
I didn't know, your Honour.
I've been working double shifts
to earn the money.
Four mercy attendants
is now a further 1 8 talmars.
Disposal fee 1 0 talmars plus of course
an ad valorem tax of 1 0%%.
Total, 1 32 talmars.
It's all here, you see,
against that with which your father's
own personal contribution
of 7 talmars...
Only 7 talmars, Citizen?
Must have been a poor man.
He was a municipal servant
for 40 years, your Honour.
-(BORED) Oh.
-He cleaned the walkways.
And then there's
the recycling allowance.
On his death weight of 84 kilos.
That is 8 talmars.
Leaving a debt of 1 1 7.
Please, I have only 86.
It has taken me years to save it.
How do you propose to settle
the 31 talmars outstanding?
-Well, I can't.
-(HADE CHUCKLING)
Your Honour, I have nothing.
Taxes are the primary consideration,
Citizen.
I see that you are a D-grade worker
in the Foundry.
Yes, your Honour.
Fortunately,
as the Gatherer, I have certain powers.
I will encourage your supervisor
to allow you increased output.
But your Honour,
I already work a double shift now!
I have only my three hours sleep time
away from the Foundry.
Twenty-one hours a week?
You must manage without sleep time
until the debt is paid.
-It will kill me!
-Take Q capsules.
But your Honour,
the high medical tax on Q capsules...
Citizen Cordo,
you complain too much.
Thank the Company you're warm and fed.
Praise the Company.
You may go.
(HUMMING)
I am gratified, your Honour.
K9: Queen to knight six.
-There?
-Affirmative.
(LAUGHING)
(CHUCKLES)
Even simple one-dimensional chess
exposes the limitations
of the machine mind.
(DOCTOR LAUGHING)
Bishop to queen six.
Mistress.
-There?
-Affirmative.
Check, master.
What?
Machine mind computes mate in six moves.
Rubbish!
-Doctor...
-Leela, keep still.
-But Doctor, the...
-And shut up. I'm trying to concentrate.
Your move, master.
I know it's my move.
Don't flash your eyes at me.
-Wrong square.
-What?
Your king, master. Wrong square.
-Really? Are you sure?
-Affirmative.
Doctor, can I speak now?
What? All right, if you must.
What is it?
-Well, the column has stopped moving.
-So?
It is not important?
What?
We might have gone right through
the time spiral! Why didn't you tell me?
-I tried to but you wouldn't let me.
-You didn't.
-You didn't.
-I did!
It's that confounded paint.
It's always jamming things up.
Stay calm!
I'm going to materialise
and take a reading.
-(MACHINE HUMMING)
-Where are we?
We're still in the solar system.
-Pluto?
-Pluto?
Yes, Pluto.
The ninth planet.
Was until the discovery of Cassius
believed to be the outermost body
in the system.
-It has a diameter of 3,000...
-Leela, tell your tin pet to shut up.
Shh. K9, you can tell me later.
Affirmative.
Its distance from the Sun is...
Shh!
Breathable atmosphere. That's wrong.
There are buildings.
Pluto's a lifeless rock.
Leela?
I think you and I should take a...
W-A-L-K.
-W-A-L-K?
-Wuh-al-luk.
-K9: Walk, mistress.
-I know.
Ready, master.
No, no, no. You're not coming.
You stay here.
-Entreat, master.
-No.
-I'll be good.
-No!
Pluto's no place for a...
I'm sorry, K9. We won't be long.
Quite warm.
Around 20 degrees.
Very humid.
It is like Earth,
except that the air is scented.
It's all wrong.
It shouldn't be like Earth.
Unless, of course,
the Sun's turned nova.
LEELA: Doctor, look!
Fascinating.
DOCTOR:
What an engineering achievement, eh?
Don't joggle, Leela. Don't joggle.
You can look in a minute.
Must have taken them centuries
to build a city like that.
-Hey!
-What?
Come down!
Please, come back!
DOCTOR: Don't touch him!
Don't jump! Please, don't jump!
Magnificent view, isn't it?
How high is this building?
-A thousand metres.
-A thousand metres?
My!
Are we interrupting something?
Why do you say, Citizen?
Well, somehow I have the impression
you're thinking of killing yourself.
-It's the taxes.
-What?
The taxes, I can't pay the taxes.
Oh, the taxes. My dear old thing,
all you need is a wily accountant.
Would you care for a jelly baby? Hmm?
Try one.
-CORDO: What?
-They're rather good.
Now, tell us about it.
This is Leela, I'm the Doctor.
What is it, Marn?
-Air space violation, your Honour.
-Hmm?
District Four.
The data vipes also indicate
illegal landing.
-Hmm?
-Block 40.
Excellent.
There's a fine of 500 talmars
on each count.
Order my demon immediately, Marn.
We must apprehend the culprit.
Then there's the medical tax
on Q capsules
and work tax on extra hours.
I could never clear the debt.
You see, the Company charges 50%%
compound interest on unpaid taxes.
I'm only a grade D work unit,
3 talmars a shift.
3 talmars. That's not enough.
What is he saying, Doctor?
I do not understand.
He can't make ends meet.
Probably too many economists
in the government.
These taxes,
they are like sacrifices to tribal gods?
Well, roughly speaking,
but paying tax is more painful.
Well, then the people should rise up
and slaughter their oppressors!
Well, if little Cordo's at all typical,
they haven't any spirit left
for fighting. Hmm?
(SIREN WAILING)
It's the Gatherer! Quick, run!
Run, Doctor! It's the Gatherer!
If we are caught up here,
there is a fine of 5 talmars
-or a week in the Correction Centre.
-What?
It is an offence!
Only the Executive Grade is allowed
in the light of the suns.
-Suns?
-Shh.
MARN: How did it get here?
Oh, use your intelligence, Marn.
You detected an air space violation.
Clearly a sky freighter.
But what is it, your Honour?
Obviously a container.
See the lock?
He is trying to open the Tardis.
Pity K9 can't bark.
Quick! Quick!
-What is it?
-We must get away.
For someone who wanted to commit suicide
a few minutes ago,
you seem very anxious not to be caught.
Death is easy.
Perhaps you've never been
in the Correction Centre, Citizen.
Come on, Leela.
CORDO: Hurry!
It's an intriguing case, Marn.
Your Honour, it's inconceivable.
To flout so many regulations.
Exactly.
I smell something very big.
Perhaps another Kandor conspiracy.
-What was that?
-Yes, Kandor.
I never heard of it.
Yes, it wasn't made public at the time,
in case it gave others ideas.
Kandor was an Executive Grade
in Megropolis 4
who falsified computer records
for the enrichment of himself
and his fellow conspirators.
Altogether he defrauded the Company
of millions of talmars.
-Praise the Company.
-Mmm.
What happened to him?
He survived three years
in the Correction Centre.
-Three years?
-Mmm.
A record.
He was very strong.
Where are we going?
I don't know.
Why did you run?
Well, he ran first.
-Well, that's no answer.
-Why did you run?
I don't know. Odd, isn't it?
Perhaps everyone runs from the tax man.
He says you're right.
I can easily trace the delivery
and freighter records.
Whoever programmed the freighter
will have used a self-destructing print.
You mean the instruction will not
be retained in records?
But that's another illegal...
Does the robber hesitate
to break a window?
We're not dealing here, Marn,
with some snivelling tax defaulter.
This is a carefully planned
criminal enterprise.
To what end, your Honour?
To defraud the Company
of its rightful revenues
by smuggling contraband goods
into the Megropolis.
(CHUCKLING)
I see the magnitude of the offence
astounds you.
Well, it's hard to believe
such depths of criminality.
It exists, Marn. It exists.
Despite the screening
and the Preparation Centres
and the air conditioning,
criminal deviants occur
in every generation.
Enemies of the Company.
On Old Earth they had a saying.
There's one rotten acorn
in every barrel.
We must find this filth, Marn.
Find it and crush it.
The Company be praised.
How shall it be done?
I have a plan.
What's the hurry?
I must leave you here, Citizens.
-What are you going to do?
-Perhaps I can join the Others.
Who are the Others?
It is said they live in the Undercity.
Outlaws,
tax criminals, some who've escaped from
the Correction Centre.
Perhaps they will help me,
if they exist.
If you are not sure they exist,
how do you expect to find them?
I know the secret way to the Undercity.
You see, my father was an E-grade
work unit.
He cleaned the walkways all his life.
-He learned the secret.
-We'll come with you.
I'm gratified, Citizens,
but there may be danger.
No, I'm interested in this Undercity.
Always like to get
to the bottom of things.
Come on.
But you don't understand, Citizens.
My father looked in once.
He said there is no light, nothing.
It is not possible to
imagine such a thing.
You mean it is dark.
What is dark?
Well, at night, when the sun has gone.
He means there's no night
on this planet, Leela. Hmm?
That's why the concept
of darkness frightens him.
But that is not possible.
Every planet must have a night.
Not if the sidereal and axial rotation
periods are the same,
-or if there's more than one sun.
-There are six.
What, six suns on Pluto?
Well, everyone knows that.
Each Megropolis was given its own sun.
In-station fusion satellites.
Galileo would have been impressed.
-Cordo?
-Yes?
Which way?
Somewhere beyond this point
there is a metal grating in the ground.
Well, go on.
No, I can't. It's hard to see.
All the other light is failing.
Your eyes will soon grow
accustomed to the darkness.
I didn't think it would be
as bad as this.
I must turn back.
Too late.
Take your hand off that knife, Leela.
Hello. You must be the Others.
(DOOR CREAKING)
Master?
The tracker system is activated,
your Honour.
So soon?
Well done, Marn.
-What is it?
-I don't have to tell you, Marn.
(CHUCKLING)
Yes.
Get down. Go on!
We caught these three snooping
around the service subway.
You did not catch us.
We allowed you to escort us.
What are they?
They claim they're
from another planet, Mandrel.
There's no life on the other planets.
Really?
How many other planets have you been to?
Show courtesy to my rank
or I'll cut your skin off inch by inch.
I can see we're going to get
on famously.
Descend to level 42.
Where are they from?
He looks like an Ajack.
Do you think he's insulting me?
With a face like his?
-He would not dare.
-No.
Let me get him, Doctor.
I could cut his heart out.
Shh. Shh. We haven't come here to fight.
(CLEARS THROAT)
We haven't come here to fight. No.
Why did you come here, then? Hmm?
Because my new little chum here
seemed unhappy about something.
-A D-grade?
-Yes, a D-grade.
He wishes to join your tribe.
-Get him up.
-I'll get him up.
Come on, don't be frightened.
Light. Please, Doctor,
let me see some light.
Fool, there's no light down here.
Only that which we make ourselves.
Come on. Come on!
We could make a few candles out of him.
It's all he's good for, Mandrel.
-Shut up. What's your name?
-Citizen Cordo, District Four.
-Foundry or smelting?
-I'm a Foundry work unit, your Honour.
Always respectable. All my life
I've met the production quotas,
paid my dues and taxes,
praise the Company.
Stuff the Company.
Mouth those mindless pieties down here,
Citizen Cordo,
and you'll get your throat slit.
So,
you're in trouble with the Gatherer, eh?
CORDO: Yes.
I couldn't meet my father's death taxes.
It was more than I was told, and I...
It's always more than they tell you.
I've heard the story a thousand times.
You stay with us,
you'll have to earn your keep.
Oh, yes, your Honour, I'll work.
Anything.
Work?
Work, Cordo?
Nobody works here.
We go into the upper levels
and steal what we need.
Aye, and kill for our needs
when necessary.
This skin, it's real skin!
You touch me again and I'll fillet you!
A handy girl.
-Doctor?
-Hmm?
You two may be of more use
to us than I thought.
Well, I'm delighted to...
Oh, no, no, we're just tourists.
We're not staying.
On the other hand, it is quite cosy.
Don't you think it's quite cosy here?
It's turning into subway CT1 .
How I dislike the lower levels.
So very depressing.
The D-grade work units have their
dormer somewhere along there.
HADE: He's turned again, Marn.
Where is it now?
It looks like one of
the service subways, your Honour.
It is finished.
-1 ,000 talmars?
-It will do.
Well, it'd better do.
-I've got a little task for you, Doctor.
-Oh, good.
Here's a Consumcard.
We got it off an Ajack.
It's made out for 1 ,000 talmars.
1 ,000 talmars. Stolen?
-What do you think?
-Stolen.
It hasn't been used,
so it's not on the computer records.
None of us could use it.
We don't look like Ajacks.
Hmm.
What do these Ajacks look like,
if I'm pretending to be one?
I ask merely for information.
They're all miners.
They live in Megropolis 3.
Do you know how to use a Consumcard?
Oh...
Computer micro-loaded, uh...
Do you feed it into a reader?
At the Consum Bank on subway 37.
-Subway 37.
-Cordo?
You show the Doctor how to get there.
-Do not go, Doctor.
-What?
Suppose I refuse to go?
-You'll die.
-It was just a passing thought.
Well, here's another one,
in case you run off with our talmars.
If you're not back by this time...
The girl dies.
(GRUNTING)
(GROANING)
-I couldn't breathe down there.
-It was a bit stuffy.
-(CORDO SIGHING)
-But unscented.
-What is it?
-Nothing,
just an idea.
K9.
Master.
Didn't I tell you to stay in the Tardis?
Ooh!
-An Ajack, by the stamp of him.
-Hmm.
The other, the other
I've seen somewhere before.
MARN: A D-grade?
D-grade, yeah.
Of course!
He was here, only hours ago,
whining for time to pay his taxes.
What would an Ajack want with
those riff-raff of the Undercity?
HADE: Quick!
Put the tracker on the Ajack.
Your Honour, it's not possible.
The tracker system is keyed
to follow that machine.
You mean you've lost him.
We know the subways he's traversing.
We can make physical contact.
No, too soon for that.
I want to know more about this Ajack.
By my ledger, I've got it, Marn!
Your Honour?
I know what they're smuggling.
Arms.
Weapons?
Mmm. They were always an arrogant,
unsettled lot, the Ajacks.
The air conditioning isn't
effective in the mines.
It's long been recognised
that if there's ever a rebellion
against the Company,
it will start among the Ajacks.
Don't you see?
You mean he's smuggling arms
to the Undercity?
Exactly.
And if it's happening here,
it's a talmar to a toffee it's happening
in every Megropolis on Pluto.
What shall we do?
Well, I must go to the Company palace
and warn the Collector.
We need the Inner Retinue
to deal with this.
(WHISPERING) There it is, Doctor.
(ELECTRONIC BEEPING)
Tens, please.
(ALARM SOUNDING)
(COUGHING)