Doctor Who (1963–1989): Season 16, Episode 13 - The Androids of Tara: Part One - full transcript

When Romana goes fishing for the fourth segment to the Key to Time, the Doctor just goes fishing. While on the planet of Tara, both are taken in (somewhat against their will) by two factions, both trying to achieve the throne of Tara. While Romana is mistaken for an android by Count Grendel, the Doctor and the Prince are drugged after the Doctor agrees to help repair his android.

Rook to bishop's four.

I saw Capablanca make that move
against Alekhine in 1927.

He lost, master.
-Who?

-Capablanca.
-Are you sure?

Master, I have been programmed
with all Championship games since 1866.

Capablanca lost.

I must have been called away.
Are you really sure?

King to knight's two.

King to knight's two.

That's a terrible move.
You've weakened the king's side.

-Clock, master.
-I know, I know.



I'll check your programming sometime.

We're not supposed to be
playing draughts, you know.

Master.

-What are you doing, Doctor?
-Shh.

We're playing chess.

Yes, I can see that.
But aren't you forgetting something?

I don't think so.

What about our task?
The Key to Time, remember?

-Oh, that old thing?
-Yes, that old thing.

The Guardian did stress
the need for urgency, didn't he?

Shh!

-I'll do it.
-If you must.

I just feel I deserve a little break.
After all, we've got half the segments.

-I prefer to play chess.
-Really?



Materialisation in 1 5 seconds.

Mate in 1 2.

Correction, mistress. Eleven.

Eleven? Oh, yes. Sorry, K9.

Apologies are unnecessary, mistress.

Mate in 11?

Oh, yes. That's the trouble with chess,
it's all so predictable.

Materialisation commencing now.

Five, four,

three, two...one.

-Was that smooth enough for you, Doctor?
-Hmm?

-I said, was that smooth enough?
-Mate in 11?

-Have we arrived? Oh, good. Where?
-Tara.

Tara?

Earth-type gravity.
Oxygen atmosphere. Climate, temperate.

Ah, peaceful looking place.

That shouldn't give you
too much trouble.

Me?

I think it's rather beautiful,
don't you?

Very good for...
Yes, I think it would be.

-What?
-Shouldn't you be getting changed?

Oh, yes, all right.

Tara, Tara...

Tahiti?

No.

Tally ho.

Tara.

Hmm.

What are you looking for?
-Well, it's in here somewhere.

I said, what are you looking for?

Aha!

Aha!

Goody.

Gosh. That takes me back.

Or forward.

That's the trouble with time travel.
You can never remember.

What is it?

Last time I used this,
I was with Izaak Walton.

Yes...

-Oh, yes, it's all here.
-Well, how do you like it?

Good.

According to our records, it's what
everyone on Tara's wearing this year.

-Isn't that right, K9?
-Affirmative.

Aha.

Aha.

-Where are you going?
-Fishing.

-Fishing? What's fishing?
-Fishing?

It's an art, worthy of the knowledge
and practice of a wise man.

We haven't got time for you
to practise anything.

We've got to find the fourth segment.

You find it. I'm taking the day off.

-The day off?
-Yes.

After a journey of 400 years
and 12 parsecs,

I'm allowed a rest of 50 years.

Where does it say that?

Section 93, paragraph 2:
Laws governing Time Lords.

-You Look it up. Go on.
-What?

You just made that up.

But you can't spend
the next 50 years fishing.

Well, of course not, I'd get bored.

I just propose to spend
the next couple of hours fishing.

-But what about the fourth segment?
-You get it.

-Right, I will.
-Yes, you do that. It's a lovely day.

Beautiful countryside,
the walk will do you good.

-Thank you.
-Would you just mind standing aside?

You're casting a shadow.
It frightens the fish.

Frightens the fish.

Look, I'm gonna get that fourth segment
and I'll be back here in under an hour.

-You be ready to leave.
-Yes...

Here, beast.

-It's incredible!
-I don't know how to thank you.

If you hadn't have come along
when you did,

that beast would have got me.

-What's your name?
-My name?

Um, you're not damaged in any way?

No, I just stumbled slightly,
that's all.

Your head isn't injured?

No, I don't think so.
There's no harm done.

I'm sorry if you're somebody
frightfully important,

but I'm a stranger here, you see.
My name is Romana.

Ah, the fair Romana.

-That's a pretty name.
-Thank you.

Tell me, are there many creatures
like that around here?

I understood that the fauna of Tara
was supposed to be friendly.

I always keep some beasts
in my woods to hunt,

but they don't usually attack people
unless they're frightened in some way.

-Your woods?
-Yes.

These are part of the estates of Gracht.

-What a curiously-shaped stone.
-Yes.

-Oh, you hurt your ankle?
-No, no, it's nothing really.

-Could I have my stone, please?
-Of course.

As soon as it's been registered.

-Registered?
-Yes, do you not know the law?

No, as I said, I'm a stranger here.

The law decrees that all minerals,
particularly unusual ones of this kind,

must be registered
with the Knight of Castle Gracht.

-Who's that?
-Me.

I am Count Grendel, Knight of Gracht,
Master of the Sword.

Oh, I see.

What's happened to the statue?

Is it important?

-Only to superstitious fools.
-Oh.

It's our family emblem...

At least, it was.
It's supposed to guard our fortunes.

-How very odd.
-Look, I'm sorry, but I really...

Oh, it's of no importance.

What is important is to get that
ankle of yours attended to.

-It's nothing, really.
-I shall take you to my castle.

My steward can register your stone,
while my surgeon attends to your injury.

It's very kind of you,
but I really couldn't...

Then I shall provide you
with a mount and an escort

-to take you wherever you wish.
-It's just a question of time.

An hour, no more.
What's an hour out of your life?

I shall not take no for an answer.

-What's that? Is it yours?
-My favourite charger.

Strong as a tree and swift as the wind.

Well, how does it go?
What makes it work?

-Good heavens, I don't know, my dear.
-You don't?

I'm a knight, not a farrier.

Do you mind not standing on my chest?
My hat's on fire.

I don't think we've met before.

-Who are you? Who are you?
-Hmm?

Call me Doctor.

-What are you doing here?
-Oh, fishing.

This is Prince Reynart's hunting estate.

-What? Prince Reynart!
-Yes.

I've never heard of him.
Decent sort of chap, is he?

-Shall I kill him, Swordmaster?
-No, no, that won't be necessary.

Good heavens, electrically charged.
The control's in the hilt, I see.

-You know about such things?
-Well, I've travelled.

-He said he was a doctor.
-You know about machines, electronics?

-A little.
-You don't look like a peasant.

-Well, of course not, I've travelled.
-But you have certain skills.

-Can you mend an android?
-What? What did you just say?

-An android.
-I thought you said an android.

-What's wrong with it?
-It won't go.

Why don't you just try
your local android dealer?

Shall I kill him now, Swordmaster?

Look, that isn't necessary.
You see, I'd really love to help you out

but I'm frightfully busy.
And where is this android?

-There is Castle Gracht, my dear.
-It's beautiful.

It's the ancient home
of the Grendels of Gracht.

And it's quite, quite escape-proof,
I'm glad to say.

My Lord is come. Open the gates!

There, that wasn't too bad, was it?

There's no need to carry me,
I can still walk.

-Master. Master.
-Fetch Madame Lamia.

She's my surgeon. Come, my dear.

-There.
-Oh, thank you.

You won't forget
to register my stone, will you?

-What?
-My stone?

Oh, no. No, of course not, my dear.

I got your message.

Oh, Romana, my dear,
this is Madame Lamia,

my surgeon-engineer.

Hello. Engineer?

-I don't believe it.
Mmm-hmm.

-What's the matter?
-Incredible, marvellous job. Who did it?

The question is not so much who,
my dear, as why.

I'm a peasant,
I leave politics to my betters.

Very wise of you, my dear.

Look, I don't know
what all this is about, but I must...

Restrain her.

What do you want me to do with her,
my lord?

Well, we can't have her
running around the kingdom.

Disassemble her.

-We can cannibalise her for parts.
-What parts? Now, wait a minute...

I should like to keep the head.

You're right,
it really is quite remarkable.

You're standing on my scarf.

I'm terribly sorry.

If you don't stop burning my scarf,
you're going to have to kill me.

Doctor, you must forgive
Swordsman Farrah.

He tends to get over enthusiastic
in the pursuit of his duties.

But particularly in defence
of his Prince.

Well, maybe he does get too enthusiastic
in the course of his duties,

what about my scarf?

Peasant, you will speak with respect
when you address Prince Reynart of Tara.

-I told you, I'm not a peasant.
-But you do know about androids.

Well, that depends.

-On what?
-On how we treat him, obviously.

-So, you're not a peasant?
-No.

Very well, I'll make you an offer.

One thousand gold pieces
if you can mend our android.

One thousand gold pieces?
Do you think you can buy me for money?

-Five hundred.
-Done.

Suppose I can't mend the android?

Then we shall give you to
Swordsman Farrah for sword practice.

No, we won't, Zadek.
This man is obviously a gentleman.

If he can mend our android,
we shall reward him.

If he cannot, you have my word, Doctor,

you will come to no harm,
you may go free.

-Thank you.
Wait.

-The android?
-Oh, yes, yes. Where?

Excuse me.

There he is, Doctor.

I always enjoy
watching you work, my dear.

Thank you, my Lord.
I shall make the cut here.

-Excellent.
-Count, far be it from me

to query this lady's
competency as a doctor,

but where I come from,
you don't cut off the patient's head

-if you swish to cure their ankle.
-Ankle?

Yes, there was supposed to be
something wrong with its ankle.

-Swollen.
-What did you expect?

Extraordinary.

If I didn't know better, my lord...

-She's not an android.
-What?

-She is real.
Brilliant.

Well, you can keep your head, my dear.

I may have a better use for it.

That's not bad. I have seen better.

Don't you sometimes wish, Zadek,

that our fathers had permitted us
to learn peasant skills?

No, Your Highness. If we'd been meant
to have been peasants,

we'd have been born peasants.

Perhaps you're right, Zadek.
Well, Doctor, can it be fixed?

-Well, that depends. Fixed for what?
-Zadek.

For one thing it must wear this.

Why?

Tomorrow, at the appropriate hour
fixed by the astrologers,

in the great coronation room
of the Palace of Tara,

-I am to be crowned King.
-Well, congratulations.

-They will be in order if I get there.
-Why? What's to stop you?

Count Grendel of Gracht.
He'll kill me if he needs to.

After all, you can't crown
a dead Prince.

Grendel and his men will be watching
every entrance to the palace

to prevent my getting to the
coronation room at the ordained time.

So?

If I fail to appear at the right moment,
I forfeit my right to the crown.

Ah! And that's when
Grendel of Gracht steps in?

The only other contender for the throne
is the Princess Strella.

But she disappeared sometime ago.
Nobody knows where she is.

Where does George come in to all this?

There have been three attempts
on His Highness's life already.

The next one could be successful.

I see, let them attack George here
instead of the Prince.

Precisely. We use Geo...

The android copy of me to create
a diversion to distract their attention.

-Draw their fire.
-To draw their fire.

While we slip past the guards
into the coronation room.

What do you think, Doctor?

Well, it has been done before.

I don't like it.

I'm not asking you to like it.
Just do it.

-Is it wise? Think of the risk.
-You question my commands?

-No, my lord. Of course not.
-Then do what I tell you

or I shall have you flogged,
and don't imagine that I won't.

Yes, my lord.

What are you doing? What? No.

Please. No!

Congratulations, Doctor. Thank you.

And now, if you'll forgive me,
gentlemen, I must retire.

Good night, gentlemen.

Excellent. Farrah, bring wine.

Do you know, it's quite eerie
seeing oneself walk and talk like that.

I never thought I'd see
that thing going again.

It'll do for now.
But if I had proper tools,

I could've have done a much better job.

It's good enough to fool Grendel
and his men, don't you think so, Zadek?

-I hope so, Your Highness, for our sake.
-Oh, Zadek, always the pessimist.

-Thank you, Doctor. Zadek.
-Five hundred gold pieces.

You wouldn't be interested in
permanent employment, would you, Doctor?

No, no, no, I'm sorry,
I'm otherwise engaged.

Pity. Still, you will stay
and drink a toast

-to our success for tomorrow, won't you?
-All right.

One of our local wines.
Modest, demure but palatable.

-Join us, Farrah.
-Thank you, Your Highness.

-You look better without your helmet.
-Cooler, anyway.

With your permission, Your Highness.
To the King.

-To the King.
-Not yet.

Tomorrow, perhaps, thanks to the Doctor.

-Thank you.
-To the Doctor.

The Doctor.

Your Highness?

Potent stuff.