Doctor Who (1963–1989): Season 19, Episode 23 - Time-Flight: Part One - full transcript
A British Airways Concord disappears on final approach. The Doctor, still reeling from the loss of Adric, becomes involved when his TARDIS miss-fires from its intended destination of London 1851 and appears at Heathrow airport. The Doctor follows the lost plane into the deep past only to discover he is part of an illusion. This forces him to ask the question: if there is an illusion, who is the conjurer?
(DOCTOR WHO THEME)
This is Captain Urquhart again.
We're still travelling supersonic,
ladies and gentlemen,
57,000 feet.
Just to let you know
that we'll be reaching
our deceleration point in a few minutes
and beginning our descent
into London Heathrow.
Good afternoon, London.
Speedbird Concorde 192.
Speedbird Concorde 192,
you are cleared to descend
to flight level 370.
Roger. Clear to 370.
Mark 1.6, 60 miles to subsonic point.
We're spot-on.
Speedbird Concorde 192 level at 370.
Speedbird Concorde 192, you are cleared
to continue descent to 280.
Speedbird Concorde 192,
will you acknowledge, please?
URQUHART: Speedbird Concorde 192,
Speedbird Concorde 192...
Speedbird Concorde 192,
will you acknowledge?
Can I take your glass?
Speedbird Concorde 192,
will you acknowledge, please?
I have total RT breakdown
on Speedbird Concorde 192.
I don't believe it.
She's approaching London,
but the trace is becoming intermittent.
WOMAN ON PA: Ladies and gentlemen,
in a few minutes we should...
Emergency. We have lost contact
with Concorde Golf Victor Foxtrot.
Crew of the freighter
safely returned to their own time.
-Cyber fleet dispersed.
-Oh, great.
You make it sound like a shopping list,
ticking off things as you go.
Aren't you forgetting something
rather important?
-Adric is dead.
-Tegan, please.
We feel his loss as well.
Well, you could do more than grieve.
You could go back.
-NYSSA: Could you?
-No.
Surely the Tardis is quite capable...
We can change what happened if we
materialise before Adric was killed.
And change your own history?
Look, the freighter could still
crash into Earth,
that doesn't have to be changed.
-Only Adric doesn't have to be on board.
-Now listen to me, both of you,
there are some rules that cannot
be broken even with the Tardis.
Don't ever ask me
to do anything like that again.
You must accept that Adric is dead.
His life wasn't wasted, he...
He died trying to save others,
just like his brother Varsh.
You know, Adric had a choice.
This is the way he wanted it.
We used to fight a lot.
I'll miss him.
So will I.
And me.
But he wouldn't want us
to mourn unnecessarily.
-Where are we going?
-Special treat to cheer us all up.
1851, Earth, London.
What's so special about that, Doctor?
Hyde Park and the Crystal Palace.
1851? The Great Exhibition?
All the wonders
of Victorian science and technology.
Well, the Tardis should feel at home.
How about opening day? Pass
the time of day with the foreign Royals.
We could even drop in at Lords,
see a few overs from Wisden and Pilch.
-I wonder if the Lion will be bowling.
-Let's get there first.
Yes, all right.
Nyssa, have you touched
the dimensional stabilisers?
Of course not.
All systems functioning normally.
It could be
the relative drift compensator.
-No.
-Some sort of turbulence.
Feedback from the solar comparative. No.
-Another ship.
-What do you mean, another ship?
If it builds up at this frequency, it
could draw us into spatial convergence.
We must materialise immediately.
But we're due to land in London
in a few minutes.
If we don't materialise,
the Tardis will be destroyed.
Look at this,
something's just manifested.
The same flight path as 192.
No transponder signal.
Smaller than Golf Victor Foxtrot.
Unidentified aircraft on approach
to 10 left, will you acknowledge?
-Seems to have done the trick.
-Where are we?
Somewhere above Hyde Park.
The view should be spectacular.
That's not Hyde Park,
that's Heathrow Airport.
You're right.
Well, I never thought I'd say this,
but let's get out of here.
We could be in the path
of an oncoming aircraft.
-What are you doing?
-Coordinate override.
A sort of anti-collision device.
It's gone.
-Must have been a light aircraft.
-Mmm.
WOMAN ON PA: Air Australia apologises
for the delay to all flights
which is due to weather conditions
at Heathrow Airport.
You've landed us right in the middle
of a terminal building.
So I have.
-The authorities will go mad.
-Well, we'll only be here a moment.
I hope.
-Please hurry.
-I am.
Ah!
-Doctor.
-I won't be a moment.
-Doctor!
-At least we won't be noticed.
What do you mean?
Because this is a police box?
Well, this is Earth.
For once it's a perfect camouflage.
This is the 1980s, Nyssa.
Police boxes went out with flower power.
Oh, no.
I don't know what English cricket
is coming to.
-Doctor.
-Hmm?
Doctor!
I have just lost a complete
complement of passengers and crew,
not to mention 30 million pounds
worth of aircraft.
As if I want to know about a police box
in Terminal 1.
There isn't a police box in Terminal 1.
Landside security's your problem, Jim.
Not to mention all those VIPs waiting
for the arrival of 192 in Terminal 3.
-Andrews?
-Now, Mr Horton,
we need you to explain to us
exactly what you saw on the radar
when Victor Foxtrot began
the deceleration procedure.
That's not possible. What?
All right, I'll be right over. Something
very odd going on in Terminal 1.
Yes, now, you lost contact with the
aircraft over the Bristol Channel here.
Yes, the RT started to break up
and the transponder signal
just faded from the screen.
-Are you responsible for this box, sir?
-Well, I try to be.
Doctor, you've done it again.
Nonsense, we'll be away
from here in no time.
Would you be so good
as to open it up, sir?
-Is that a good idea?
-I must insist, sir, security.
-Yes, of course, security.
-You have the key, sir?
UNIT.
Sir?
You'd do much better to check
with UNIT, department C19.
Sir John Sudbury is the man you want.
And who exactly are you, sir?
Oh, just tell him it's the Doctor.
And do send my regards
to Brigadier Lethbridge Stewart.
Unless, of course,
he's a General by now.
You see, what did I say?
We'll be gone in a couple of shakes.
A doctor with a police box.
Really, Sir John, I hardly...
Yes, yes of course I appreciate
the political ramifications but...
Yes, but surely
that's all the more reason
for not wasting time with this doctor.
Yes, I... Yes, I beg your pardon.
Of course, if you insist, Sir John.
The party with the police box
in Terminal 1
have full security clearance from C19.
That was UNIT. We are obliged
to brief this doctor
on the disappearance of Victor Foxtrot.
Always the same with you.
Whenever we stop anywhere,
you have to get involved.
Be quiet, I'm thinking.
We were supposed to be going
to The Great Exhibition.
-Well, we will eventually.
-That's all you ever say.
You promised.
Tegan, this is your planet.
I would have thought you wanted to help.
I am helping, by wanting to leave
the recovery of Concorde to the experts.
-Well, I might be able to help.
-That's what worries me.
-Good afternoon, gentlemen.
-Good heavens.
-Ah, yes, this is the Doctor.
-Oh.
How do you do, Doctor?
-Hello, this is Nyssa and Tegan.
-Oh.
-Oh, you're a stewardess.
-That's right.
Now, I believe you're having problems
with Concorde.
(STAMMERING)
Tell the Doctor, would you, please?
Well, this morning's
Concorde flight from New York
disappeared from the radar
just after its deceleration.
-Disappeared?
-Yes, it just faded from the screen.
It didn't crash?
It was flying on a level course,
all systems were working normally.
Indeed.
-I wonder.
-Wonder what?
-Remember the turbulence we experienced?
-That forced us to materialise?
Yes. I wonder very much indeed.
It sounds as though it could be
cross-tracing on the time-space axis.
Exactly.
Are you saying you know
where the missing aircraft is?
I suspect it's not a question
of where, but when.
Any idea what these tests
are for, Skipper?
All I know is some scientist
wants to take up some special equipment
to monitor the approach
used by Victor Foxtrot
when she went through
the deceleration phase.
Morning, Skipper. All ready for loading.
Is the gear on its way?
Coming over now.
But why does it have to be
another Concorde?
We must follow the same route,
same height, same speed.
And with my equipment onboard,
I can identify
what I believe to be
an exponential time contour.
And you really believe that
Victor Foxtrot flew into a time warp?
Exactly.
And we can't have a navigational hazard
like that hanging about the galaxy.
(PHONE RINGING)
Yes?
Thank you. Golf Alpha Charlie
is ready for boarding.
Here they come.
I saw Concorde once
on the tarmac at Melbourne.
Morning, Doctor. I'm Captain Stapley.
May I introduce my first officer,
Andrew Bilton?
Our flight engineer, Roger Scobie.
And this is Nyssa and Tegan.
Would you mind going back and fasten
your seatbelts for takeoff, please?
Right.
Golf Alpha Charlie clear for takeoff.
Golf Alpha Charlie
is now at 58,000 feet,
150 miles off the Cornish coast.
Scheduled to turn onto its approach
in four minutes.
Do you seriously believe
that Victor Foxtrot
got caught in some sort of time slip?
It would seem to be
the logical explanation.
-That's a pretty rum idea to me.
-Hang on a moment, though, Doctor.
If we follow Victor Foxtrot's course and
end up somewhere over the rainbow, well,
we're on a one-way ticket
just like Captain Urquhart's lot.
Ah, you're forgetting the Tardis.
Tardis?
You mean that police box?
That's right.
STAPLEY: Golf Alpha Charlie
now at 50 North 20 West.
Request clearance to return to London.
Golf Alpha Charlie,
clear to turn to port.
Route is fine here
on November 15 West to London.
Roger. Golf Alpha Charlie
turning to port.
They're now on the same configuration
as 192.
-It's amazing.
-What?
This thing is smaller on the inside
than it is on the outside.
Wait here.
(GRUNTING)
I wish I'd known about that
when we were on Castrovalva.
So useful when you want to
maintain a dignified attitude.
Concorde should begin a descent
deceleration procedure at any minute.
STAPLEY: Golf Alpha Charlie request
permission to descend to 370.
It's happening again.
-Did you feel something?
-I'm not sure.
Golf Alpha Charlie,
permission to descend to 370.
London, this is Golf Alpha Charlie,
do you read?
-Doctor, we're time travelling.
-The column isn't moving.
Concorde has just flown
into the time contour.
(BEEPING)
Captain, the radiation meter's on alert.
-Must be a solar flare.
-Oh, I doubt it, Captain.
It's simply reacting
to centuries of galactic radiation
through which we're passing.
London, this is Golf Alpha Charlie,
do you read?
I'm afraid your radio
is useless, Captain,
by my estimation
we're the spatial equivalent
to 400 billion miles
from air traffic control.
MAN: Golf Alpha Charlie
clear to descend to 370.
Fasten your seatbelt, please, Doctor,
by my calculations
we're 20 minutes from touchdown.
-We've lost them.
-Another Concorde.
-So much for the Doctor.
-But where have they gone?
Heathrow, Doctor.
Kinda feel at home
getting in and out of aircraft.
It's all a bit unreal after the Tardis.
There's something
very unreal about all of this.
That's why this tree doth continue to be
since observed by yours faithfully, God.
-What's that, Doctor?
-To be is to be perceived.
A naive 18th-century philosophy.
Ah.
Nyssa, what's the matter?
Didn't you see them?
-There were decaying corpses.
-There's nothing there.
Nothing there.
I wonder, perceptual induction.
What are you talking about, Doctor?
I want you all to concentrate very hard.
-You don't give up, do you, Doctor?
-Concentrate. Look at anything.
Observe it in every detail.
-What are you doing to us, Doctor?
-Perceptual induction.
And I'm undoing it. Concentrate!
It's the only way to fight it
and find out where we really are.
-But we're at Heathrow.
-No, you think you're at Heathrow.
So did I...
Well, almost, up to a moment ago.
Now concentrate, all together.
It must be a concerted effort.
That plane.
I can't focus properly.
-Nothing's moving.
-It is blurred.
I'm getting cold.
You see?
The coherence is breaking up.
Where are we?
Just where you thought we were, Captain.
-Heathrow?
-Some 140 million years ago.
-I think I'm dreaming.
-Quite the reverse, Mr Scobie,
-you've just woken up.
-I don't believe it.
Definitely Jurassic.
There's a nip in the air, though.
We can't be far off the Pleistocene era.
The Ice Age?
It's times like this
I wish I still had my scarf.
Better watch out
for the odd brontosaurus.
Were they the creatures I saw?
I doubt it, but I should think
they came from this time zone.
Do you really mean we've gone
backward down a time contour?
-Have you another explanation?
-But we were on Concorde.
How did we land on this?
-Very violently, by the look of it.
-The touchdown was perfect.
It's like having a tooth out under
hypnosis, you don't feel a thing.
But the approach to Heathrow
was utterly real.
So was the Indian rope trick.
And, Doctor,
somewhere in this wilderness
must be the passengers
and crew of Victor Foxtrot.
Don't worry, Captain, we'll find them.
-Let's hope no one finds us first.
-What do you mean?
Behind every illusion
there's a conjurer.
In this case, I shouldn't think
he went to all this trouble
for our entertainment.
Doctor!
-It's the other Concorde.
-Tegan, wait!
All of you, stay here.
Sheraaz sheraaz tumal.
Baloor baloor.
Sheraaz sheraaz
tumal baloor baloor.
All things come
to their appointed end soon. Soon.
Look, a building. Are we hallucinating?
I doubt it. The illusion
is always one of normality.
Well, that's not exactly Terminal 3.
But who could have built it?
I think the answer might be over there.
How much longer
have we got to wait here?
Why don't we do a bit of a recce?
I've developed
a very healthy respect for the Doctor
and he wants us to stay put.
No!
Danger.
-We must find the Doctor.
-Nyssa, what's the matter?
Come on, we'd better go after her.
You have your work, go to it.
(CHANTING)
Look, it's a motorway.
-It's the M4!
-It's an illusion.
I don't care.
It might lead us out of this time warp.
At least it looks like civilisation.
Scobie, stay where you are
and that is an order.
-Remember the Indian rope trick.
-I can't see anything.
What was the Indian rope trick?
Someone's ship?
Been here a long time.
Doctor, can we get out of here?
So this fakir throws
the rope up in the air
and he and his assistant climb up it,
hey presto, disappeared.
They've gone.
But some clever devil
had taken photographs
and the reality is that there's
the rope lying on the floor
and this Indian juju man and his oppo
are hiding behind some bushes
-laughing like a couple of skunks.
-Quiet.
Look.
They've got the Tardis.
There's Dave Colshore
and Angela Clifford.
-They were on Victor Foxtrot.
-Wait!
-Angela, Angela.
-Hey, hey.
You didn't tell me you had
a New York stopover.
What are you talking about?
Look, old chap, this is all a bit
of a snare and a delusion.
Andrew, we've got a few chores to do.
See you in the bar in half an hour.
Look, snap out of it,
you're not in New York.
The Captain wants us to try that
new Indonesian restaurant he's found.
-We'll have to grab them.
-What's happening?
(CHANTING)
Doctor, those creatures
have taken Bilton and Scobie.
Eevanerab!
Tumal tumal.
-Are you sure it wasn't an illusion?
-They were real, all right.
-Doctor!
-Behind you!
This is Captain Urquhart again.
We're still travelling supersonic,
ladies and gentlemen,
57,000 feet.
Just to let you know
that we'll be reaching
our deceleration point in a few minutes
and beginning our descent
into London Heathrow.
Good afternoon, London.
Speedbird Concorde 192.
Speedbird Concorde 192,
you are cleared to descend
to flight level 370.
Roger. Clear to 370.
Mark 1.6, 60 miles to subsonic point.
We're spot-on.
Speedbird Concorde 192 level at 370.
Speedbird Concorde 192, you are cleared
to continue descent to 280.
Speedbird Concorde 192,
will you acknowledge, please?
URQUHART: Speedbird Concorde 192,
Speedbird Concorde 192...
Speedbird Concorde 192,
will you acknowledge?
Can I take your glass?
Speedbird Concorde 192,
will you acknowledge, please?
I have total RT breakdown
on Speedbird Concorde 192.
I don't believe it.
She's approaching London,
but the trace is becoming intermittent.
WOMAN ON PA: Ladies and gentlemen,
in a few minutes we should...
Emergency. We have lost contact
with Concorde Golf Victor Foxtrot.
Crew of the freighter
safely returned to their own time.
-Cyber fleet dispersed.
-Oh, great.
You make it sound like a shopping list,
ticking off things as you go.
Aren't you forgetting something
rather important?
-Adric is dead.
-Tegan, please.
We feel his loss as well.
Well, you could do more than grieve.
You could go back.
-NYSSA: Could you?
-No.
Surely the Tardis is quite capable...
We can change what happened if we
materialise before Adric was killed.
And change your own history?
Look, the freighter could still
crash into Earth,
that doesn't have to be changed.
-Only Adric doesn't have to be on board.
-Now listen to me, both of you,
there are some rules that cannot
be broken even with the Tardis.
Don't ever ask me
to do anything like that again.
You must accept that Adric is dead.
His life wasn't wasted, he...
He died trying to save others,
just like his brother Varsh.
You know, Adric had a choice.
This is the way he wanted it.
We used to fight a lot.
I'll miss him.
So will I.
And me.
But he wouldn't want us
to mourn unnecessarily.
-Where are we going?
-Special treat to cheer us all up.
1851, Earth, London.
What's so special about that, Doctor?
Hyde Park and the Crystal Palace.
1851? The Great Exhibition?
All the wonders
of Victorian science and technology.
Well, the Tardis should feel at home.
How about opening day? Pass
the time of day with the foreign Royals.
We could even drop in at Lords,
see a few overs from Wisden and Pilch.
-I wonder if the Lion will be bowling.
-Let's get there first.
Yes, all right.
Nyssa, have you touched
the dimensional stabilisers?
Of course not.
All systems functioning normally.
It could be
the relative drift compensator.
-No.
-Some sort of turbulence.
Feedback from the solar comparative. No.
-Another ship.
-What do you mean, another ship?
If it builds up at this frequency, it
could draw us into spatial convergence.
We must materialise immediately.
But we're due to land in London
in a few minutes.
If we don't materialise,
the Tardis will be destroyed.
Look at this,
something's just manifested.
The same flight path as 192.
No transponder signal.
Smaller than Golf Victor Foxtrot.
Unidentified aircraft on approach
to 10 left, will you acknowledge?
-Seems to have done the trick.
-Where are we?
Somewhere above Hyde Park.
The view should be spectacular.
That's not Hyde Park,
that's Heathrow Airport.
You're right.
Well, I never thought I'd say this,
but let's get out of here.
We could be in the path
of an oncoming aircraft.
-What are you doing?
-Coordinate override.
A sort of anti-collision device.
It's gone.
-Must have been a light aircraft.
-Mmm.
WOMAN ON PA: Air Australia apologises
for the delay to all flights
which is due to weather conditions
at Heathrow Airport.
You've landed us right in the middle
of a terminal building.
So I have.
-The authorities will go mad.
-Well, we'll only be here a moment.
I hope.
-Please hurry.
-I am.
Ah!
-Doctor.
-I won't be a moment.
-Doctor!
-At least we won't be noticed.
What do you mean?
Because this is a police box?
Well, this is Earth.
For once it's a perfect camouflage.
This is the 1980s, Nyssa.
Police boxes went out with flower power.
Oh, no.
I don't know what English cricket
is coming to.
-Doctor.
-Hmm?
Doctor!
I have just lost a complete
complement of passengers and crew,
not to mention 30 million pounds
worth of aircraft.
As if I want to know about a police box
in Terminal 1.
There isn't a police box in Terminal 1.
Landside security's your problem, Jim.
Not to mention all those VIPs waiting
for the arrival of 192 in Terminal 3.
-Andrews?
-Now, Mr Horton,
we need you to explain to us
exactly what you saw on the radar
when Victor Foxtrot began
the deceleration procedure.
That's not possible. What?
All right, I'll be right over. Something
very odd going on in Terminal 1.
Yes, now, you lost contact with the
aircraft over the Bristol Channel here.
Yes, the RT started to break up
and the transponder signal
just faded from the screen.
-Are you responsible for this box, sir?
-Well, I try to be.
Doctor, you've done it again.
Nonsense, we'll be away
from here in no time.
Would you be so good
as to open it up, sir?
-Is that a good idea?
-I must insist, sir, security.
-Yes, of course, security.
-You have the key, sir?
UNIT.
Sir?
You'd do much better to check
with UNIT, department C19.
Sir John Sudbury is the man you want.
And who exactly are you, sir?
Oh, just tell him it's the Doctor.
And do send my regards
to Brigadier Lethbridge Stewart.
Unless, of course,
he's a General by now.
You see, what did I say?
We'll be gone in a couple of shakes.
A doctor with a police box.
Really, Sir John, I hardly...
Yes, yes of course I appreciate
the political ramifications but...
Yes, but surely
that's all the more reason
for not wasting time with this doctor.
Yes, I... Yes, I beg your pardon.
Of course, if you insist, Sir John.
The party with the police box
in Terminal 1
have full security clearance from C19.
That was UNIT. We are obliged
to brief this doctor
on the disappearance of Victor Foxtrot.
Always the same with you.
Whenever we stop anywhere,
you have to get involved.
Be quiet, I'm thinking.
We were supposed to be going
to The Great Exhibition.
-Well, we will eventually.
-That's all you ever say.
You promised.
Tegan, this is your planet.
I would have thought you wanted to help.
I am helping, by wanting to leave
the recovery of Concorde to the experts.
-Well, I might be able to help.
-That's what worries me.
-Good afternoon, gentlemen.
-Good heavens.
-Ah, yes, this is the Doctor.
-Oh.
How do you do, Doctor?
-Hello, this is Nyssa and Tegan.
-Oh.
-Oh, you're a stewardess.
-That's right.
Now, I believe you're having problems
with Concorde.
(STAMMERING)
Tell the Doctor, would you, please?
Well, this morning's
Concorde flight from New York
disappeared from the radar
just after its deceleration.
-Disappeared?
-Yes, it just faded from the screen.
It didn't crash?
It was flying on a level course,
all systems were working normally.
Indeed.
-I wonder.
-Wonder what?
-Remember the turbulence we experienced?
-That forced us to materialise?
Yes. I wonder very much indeed.
It sounds as though it could be
cross-tracing on the time-space axis.
Exactly.
Are you saying you know
where the missing aircraft is?
I suspect it's not a question
of where, but when.
Any idea what these tests
are for, Skipper?
All I know is some scientist
wants to take up some special equipment
to monitor the approach
used by Victor Foxtrot
when she went through
the deceleration phase.
Morning, Skipper. All ready for loading.
Is the gear on its way?
Coming over now.
But why does it have to be
another Concorde?
We must follow the same route,
same height, same speed.
And with my equipment onboard,
I can identify
what I believe to be
an exponential time contour.
And you really believe that
Victor Foxtrot flew into a time warp?
Exactly.
And we can't have a navigational hazard
like that hanging about the galaxy.
(PHONE RINGING)
Yes?
Thank you. Golf Alpha Charlie
is ready for boarding.
Here they come.
I saw Concorde once
on the tarmac at Melbourne.
Morning, Doctor. I'm Captain Stapley.
May I introduce my first officer,
Andrew Bilton?
Our flight engineer, Roger Scobie.
And this is Nyssa and Tegan.
Would you mind going back and fasten
your seatbelts for takeoff, please?
Right.
Golf Alpha Charlie clear for takeoff.
Golf Alpha Charlie
is now at 58,000 feet,
150 miles off the Cornish coast.
Scheduled to turn onto its approach
in four minutes.
Do you seriously believe
that Victor Foxtrot
got caught in some sort of time slip?
It would seem to be
the logical explanation.
-That's a pretty rum idea to me.
-Hang on a moment, though, Doctor.
If we follow Victor Foxtrot's course and
end up somewhere over the rainbow, well,
we're on a one-way ticket
just like Captain Urquhart's lot.
Ah, you're forgetting the Tardis.
Tardis?
You mean that police box?
That's right.
STAPLEY: Golf Alpha Charlie
now at 50 North 20 West.
Request clearance to return to London.
Golf Alpha Charlie,
clear to turn to port.
Route is fine here
on November 15 West to London.
Roger. Golf Alpha Charlie
turning to port.
They're now on the same configuration
as 192.
-It's amazing.
-What?
This thing is smaller on the inside
than it is on the outside.
Wait here.
(GRUNTING)
I wish I'd known about that
when we were on Castrovalva.
So useful when you want to
maintain a dignified attitude.
Concorde should begin a descent
deceleration procedure at any minute.
STAPLEY: Golf Alpha Charlie request
permission to descend to 370.
It's happening again.
-Did you feel something?
-I'm not sure.
Golf Alpha Charlie,
permission to descend to 370.
London, this is Golf Alpha Charlie,
do you read?
-Doctor, we're time travelling.
-The column isn't moving.
Concorde has just flown
into the time contour.
(BEEPING)
Captain, the radiation meter's on alert.
-Must be a solar flare.
-Oh, I doubt it, Captain.
It's simply reacting
to centuries of galactic radiation
through which we're passing.
London, this is Golf Alpha Charlie,
do you read?
I'm afraid your radio
is useless, Captain,
by my estimation
we're the spatial equivalent
to 400 billion miles
from air traffic control.
MAN: Golf Alpha Charlie
clear to descend to 370.
Fasten your seatbelt, please, Doctor,
by my calculations
we're 20 minutes from touchdown.
-We've lost them.
-Another Concorde.
-So much for the Doctor.
-But where have they gone?
Heathrow, Doctor.
Kinda feel at home
getting in and out of aircraft.
It's all a bit unreal after the Tardis.
There's something
very unreal about all of this.
That's why this tree doth continue to be
since observed by yours faithfully, God.
-What's that, Doctor?
-To be is to be perceived.
A naive 18th-century philosophy.
Ah.
Nyssa, what's the matter?
Didn't you see them?
-There were decaying corpses.
-There's nothing there.
Nothing there.
I wonder, perceptual induction.
What are you talking about, Doctor?
I want you all to concentrate very hard.
-You don't give up, do you, Doctor?
-Concentrate. Look at anything.
Observe it in every detail.
-What are you doing to us, Doctor?
-Perceptual induction.
And I'm undoing it. Concentrate!
It's the only way to fight it
and find out where we really are.
-But we're at Heathrow.
-No, you think you're at Heathrow.
So did I...
Well, almost, up to a moment ago.
Now concentrate, all together.
It must be a concerted effort.
That plane.
I can't focus properly.
-Nothing's moving.
-It is blurred.
I'm getting cold.
You see?
The coherence is breaking up.
Where are we?
Just where you thought we were, Captain.
-Heathrow?
-Some 140 million years ago.
-I think I'm dreaming.
-Quite the reverse, Mr Scobie,
-you've just woken up.
-I don't believe it.
Definitely Jurassic.
There's a nip in the air, though.
We can't be far off the Pleistocene era.
The Ice Age?
It's times like this
I wish I still had my scarf.
Better watch out
for the odd brontosaurus.
Were they the creatures I saw?
I doubt it, but I should think
they came from this time zone.
Do you really mean we've gone
backward down a time contour?
-Have you another explanation?
-But we were on Concorde.
How did we land on this?
-Very violently, by the look of it.
-The touchdown was perfect.
It's like having a tooth out under
hypnosis, you don't feel a thing.
But the approach to Heathrow
was utterly real.
So was the Indian rope trick.
And, Doctor,
somewhere in this wilderness
must be the passengers
and crew of Victor Foxtrot.
Don't worry, Captain, we'll find them.
-Let's hope no one finds us first.
-What do you mean?
Behind every illusion
there's a conjurer.
In this case, I shouldn't think
he went to all this trouble
for our entertainment.
Doctor!
-It's the other Concorde.
-Tegan, wait!
All of you, stay here.
Sheraaz sheraaz tumal.
Baloor baloor.
Sheraaz sheraaz
tumal baloor baloor.
All things come
to their appointed end soon. Soon.
Look, a building. Are we hallucinating?
I doubt it. The illusion
is always one of normality.
Well, that's not exactly Terminal 3.
But who could have built it?
I think the answer might be over there.
How much longer
have we got to wait here?
Why don't we do a bit of a recce?
I've developed
a very healthy respect for the Doctor
and he wants us to stay put.
No!
Danger.
-We must find the Doctor.
-Nyssa, what's the matter?
Come on, we'd better go after her.
You have your work, go to it.
(CHANTING)
Look, it's a motorway.
-It's the M4!
-It's an illusion.
I don't care.
It might lead us out of this time warp.
At least it looks like civilisation.
Scobie, stay where you are
and that is an order.
-Remember the Indian rope trick.
-I can't see anything.
What was the Indian rope trick?
Someone's ship?
Been here a long time.
Doctor, can we get out of here?
So this fakir throws
the rope up in the air
and he and his assistant climb up it,
hey presto, disappeared.
They've gone.
But some clever devil
had taken photographs
and the reality is that there's
the rope lying on the floor
and this Indian juju man and his oppo
are hiding behind some bushes
-laughing like a couple of skunks.
-Quiet.
Look.
They've got the Tardis.
There's Dave Colshore
and Angela Clifford.
-They were on Victor Foxtrot.
-Wait!
-Angela, Angela.
-Hey, hey.
You didn't tell me you had
a New York stopover.
What are you talking about?
Look, old chap, this is all a bit
of a snare and a delusion.
Andrew, we've got a few chores to do.
See you in the bar in half an hour.
Look, snap out of it,
you're not in New York.
The Captain wants us to try that
new Indonesian restaurant he's found.
-We'll have to grab them.
-What's happening?
(CHANTING)
Doctor, those creatures
have taken Bilton and Scobie.
Eevanerab!
Tumal tumal.
-Are you sure it wasn't an illusion?
-They were real, all right.
-Doctor!
-Behind you!