Doctor Who (1963–1989): Season 22, Episode 7 - The Two Doctors: Part One - full transcript

The Time Lords have dispatched the Doctor (in his 2nd incarnation) along with Jamie to a space research station to see Dastari, the Director of Projects, about dissuading two of his scientists from further experimentations on time travel that are rattling the fabric of time. The Doctor is further alarmed over Dastari's latest genetic experiments, boosting the intelligence of a bestial and carnivorous humanoid race called the Androgum. This secondary concern soon proves the greater problem: the Androgum have sided with the Sontarans to take over the station. The station soon falls and the Doctor is captured and tortured. As his life becomes threatened, elsewhere the Doctor (in his 6th incarnation) passes out while on holiday with Peri - his very existence jeopardized.

Come here, Jamie.

Look at that.

Look at the size of that thing, Doctor!

Yes, Jamie. That is a big one.

Just a wee laboratory, eh

Well... Obviously, it's grown.

It's like 20 castles in the sky!
Are you sure this is the right place?

- Of course I am!
- We never get to where you say we will.

I got Victoria to where she wanted to go.
Why does she want to learn graphology?

Will we ever get back to her?

- Of course!
- I'll believe that when I see it!

At the moment, we have other things
to worry about. Look at this!

- I've not seen that before.
- It's not been here before.

It's a teleport control.

You'd think I'd never flown a Tardis solo!

- What does it do?
- It gives the Time Lords dual control.

I shall complain when this is over!

I think we'll dematerialise to avoid
their detection beams and slip in quietly.

- You said they were friendly.
- Probably overwhelmingly so.

Then why do we have to slip in quietly?

The most brilliant scientists in the universe
have assembled here to do research.

I don't want them to know I've arrived.

- Why not?
- They'll all want my autograph.

I just want a quiet word
with Dastari, Head of Projects.

Right, then.

Splendid! We've hit conterminous time again.

- We've certainly hit something
- Jamie!


Follow me.

- Wait!
- What?

We'd better take the recall disk.

- Don't wander off. Stay with me.
- Do I ever?

It has been known. And let me do the talking.

Just stand in the background...

..''And admire your diplomatic skills''

How dare you?!

How dare you transmat that object
into my kitchens?!

How dare you have the impertinence
to address me like that?

I am Shockeye o' the Quancing Grig!

I'm not interested in the pedigree
of an Androgum. I am a Time Lord!

Oh... My humblest apologies!

I should have realised.

But this one with you?

He is from the planet Earth. A human.

A Tellurian!

I have not seen one of these before!

Is it a gift for Dastari?

A gift?!

Such a soft white skin,
whispering of a tender succulence!

Dastari will not appreciate its qualities.

He has no sensual refinement.

Let me buy it from you.

My companion is not for sale!

No chef in the nine planets would do more
to bring out the flavour of the beast!

You get on with your butchery!

Come along, Jamie.


I can just taste that flesh!

Who was that?

Shockeye o' the Quancing Grig.
He's an Androgum.

The Androgums are the servitors here.

- They do the station maintenance.
- You mean a scullion?

Yes, with a high opinion of himself.
Chefs usually have!

It's the Tardis!

Our allies won't care for that!

I said the Group Marshal
could have the Time Lord's machine.

- Will it make any difference?
- Not to me. I have the Kartz-Reimer module.

It shows the Gallifreyans are suspicious.
I was right to lay the plans I did.

- So now we wait.
- Not for long.

Stike is moving.

Already? The calgesic won't have
affected the scientists yet.

It will by the time Stike's forces arrive.

Did they enjoy the meal?

Dastari said you had surpassed yourself!


Being unable to taste it, I worried
that it might be over-seasoned!

Shockeye, their last supper would have added
lustre to your reputation...

..except that they won't live to remember it!

I remember it very clearly, Doctor.

You came to our inauguration,
bearing fraternal greetings from Gallifrey.

Yes, that was before I fell from favour.
I'm a bit of an exile these days.

Yes, I heard about that.

But you still act on their instructions?

It's the price I pay for my freedom.

We've had no support from your people.

You can't expect help from the Time Lords.
Their policy is one of strict neutrality.

Nonetheless, they have disappointed
the other Third Zone governments.

Don't chide me. I'm simply a messenger.

- Officially, I'm here unofficially.
- You'll explain that paradox, I know.

I'm a pariah, exiled from Time Lord society.
They can always deny sending me.

Then why have they sent you?

They have been monitoring
the experiments in time travel

of the Professors Kartz and Reimer.

They want them stopped.

I see. How do the Time Lords equate that
with a policy of strict neutrality?

They don't have to.

I have no official existence,
so they can deny sending me.


Typical hypocrisy!

- Yes, Chessene?
- Do your guests require refreshment?

- Ah, well...
- No, thank you. We've already eaten.

That was yesterday!

- One meal a day is sufficient.
- You're sure? Thank you, Chessene.

Very good, Professor.

Well, Doctor,
what do you make of our chatelaine?

Was she an Androgum?

She was. Now she's an Androgum TA.
Technologically augmented.

Oh, one of your biological experiments!

I've carried out
nine augmentations on Chessene.

She's at mega genius level now.
I'm very proud of her.

- Proud of her or your own skill?
- Perhaps a little of both.

All that Androgum energy
now functions on a higher plane.

She spends days in the data banks
sucking in knowledge.

- You can't change nature.
- In Chessene's case, I believe I have.

Give a monkey control of its environment

and it will fill the world with bananas!

I expected something
more progressive from you.

- My work has tremendous implications.
- That's why it's dangerous!

Doctor, our races have become tired
and effete. Our seed is thin.

We must hand the baton of progress to others.

If I can raise the Androgums
to a higher plane of consciousness,

there's no limit to what that
boiling energy might achieve!

You could augment an earwig to the point
where it understood nuclear physics.

It would still be a very stupid thing to do.


The approaching craft
are Sontaran battle cruisers.

Their intention is hostile.

Operate the defence!

Please complete
your last instructions.

The last instruction is cancelled.
Maintain normal surveillance.

Normal surveillance.

Open all docking bays.

Don't do that. You'll frighten the fish!

What fish? Doctor, I'm bored.
We've been here for hours!

I think it was Rassilon who said

there are few ways in which a Time Lord
can be more innocently occupied

than catching fish.

- That's a whopper!
- Where? I don't see one.

It was Dr Johnson who said that about money.

What's the use of a good quotation
if you can't change it?

Anyway, you're not innocently
employed in catching fish.

They're lazy today. Any angler will tell you,
sometimes nothing will tempt them.

- Is that so?
- Last time I fished this stretch,

I landed four magnificent gumblejack
in less than ten minutes.

- Gumblejack?
- The finest fish in this galaxy.

Probably the universe.

Cleaned, skinned, panfried in their own juices
till they're golden brown...

Ambrosia steeped in nectar, Peri!

The flavour is unforgettable!

- I think I've got a bite!
- At last!

That's it, yes. Give him his head...

- You've really caught something?
- Yes.

My word, this fella's putting up a fight!

- Stand by with the gaff.
- I'm not sticking that in a little fish!

Not so little, Peri.

By the feel of this, it might be a record!

Oh, wow, Doctor! That must weigh
very nearly an ounce!

Did you see the one that got away?

That magnificent gumblejack
that was trying to eat this little fellow.

Even if I wanted to, I have no authority to order
Kartz and Reimer to abandon their work.

You have. You sanction every experiment here.

What reason do I give?
That the Time Lords are concerned?

Our monitors have detected ripples
of up to point four on the Bocca scale.

Anything much higher would threaten
the whole fabric of time.

They are well aware of the dangers.
They are responsible scientists.

They're incompetent meddlers!

Aren't you being a little ingenuous?
The Time Lords have a vested interest

in ensuring that others
do not discover their secrets.

I'm sure that's not the case.

Your own machine is no longer in the station.

You didn't want Kartz and Reimer to look at it.

Look, I've a suggestion.

Stop these experiments
while my people study their work.

If Kartz and Reimer are on safe lines,
they'll be allowed to continue.

''Allowed to continue''?

I mean there would be no further objection.

In the first place,

I have no authority to ask Kartz and Reimer
to submit their work for analysis!

In the second place,

the Time Lords have no right
to make this grossly unethical demand.

- That's unmitigated arrogance!
- And that's specious claptrap!

Don't prate to me about ethics!

The balance of the space-time continuum could
be destroyed by your ham-fisted numbskulls!

I don't feel there's anything to be gained
by prolonging this discussion, Doctor.

You have more letters after your name than
anyone I know - enough for two alphabets.

How can you be such a stupid, stubborn,
irrational, objectionable old idiot?

What are you smiling at,
you hairy-legged Highlander?

I'm just admiring your diplomatic skills!


He's got his head doon,
and I can't say I blame him.

Don't speak in that appalling mongrel dialect!

- I mean he's gone to sleep.
- He's no' asleep.

He's not asleep, Jamie.

- He's drugged!
- He's what?

What's that?

I'd have thought a Jacobite
would recognise that sound.

Professor! Agh!

Run, I say. Save yourself!

We'll try our luck
at the Great Lakes of Pandatorea.

- Must we?
- You've never seen such fish!

As for the Pandatorean conger,
it's longer than your railway trains!

I don't think I wish to know.

What is all this fishing stuff anyway?

It's restful. Relaxing.

I think I've been overdoing things.
I haven't felt at all myself lately.

- I don't know which is yourself.
- Exactly.

This re...generation...


Doctor! What's wrong?


Whoa, there. Steady now...

Quiet, boy. Easy! Shockeye will not hurt you!

Ooh, we are wild, aren't we?

Why aren't you on the ship?

I was just collecting provisions, madam.

The ship is fully stocked.

The standard rations are so boring.

These are a few special things for the journey.

A cold collation I prepared.

- The Tellurian has escaped!
- Stike will leave nothing alive here.

- But such a waste, madam.
- We must go. Bring the hamper.

Have you decided on our destination?

It's unimportant.

- Earth?
- If you wish.

But why Earth?

I have a desire to taste
one of these human beasts, madam.

The meat looks so white
and roundsomely layered on the bone -

a sure sign of a tasty animal.

You think of nothing but your stomach!

The gratification of pleasure
is the sole motive of action.

Is that not our law?

I accept it, but there are pleasures
other than the purely sensual.

For you, perhaps. Fortunately,
I have not been augmented

Take care.

Your purity could easily become insufferable.

You no longer use your karm name, do you,
Chessene o' the Franzine Grig?

Do you think that I forget that I bear
the sacred blood o' the Franzine Grig?

But that noble history lies
behind me, while ahead...

..ahead lies a vision.

- Doctor, are you all right?
- Of course I'm not all right!

- What happened?
- I think you fainted.

I never faint!

I remember now - I felt a weakness.

I felt a weakness
and then I was in another place.

Can I get you anything? Celery!
That's what you need!

Celery, yes! And the tensile
strength of jelly babies.

But I... I had a clarinet. Or was it
a flute? Something you blew into.

- A glass of water?
- Water? No, don't think so. A recorder!

It was some kind of mind lock.

- You're not making any sense.
- I am making perfect sense!

- I was being put to death!
- You should sit down.

Sit down?! They're executing me!

Except it didn't end like that. It's not possible.

What isn't possible?

I am here now,
therefore I cannot have been killed then!

- That is irrefutable logic, isn't it?
- Don't worry about it.

The there and then subsumes
the here and now, so if I was killed then,

I could only exist as some sort
of temporal tautology.

Circular logic will only make you dizzy, Doctor.

The most likely explanation is that
I haven't synchronised properly yet.

A time slip in the subconscious.

Perhaps you should see a doctor.

- Are you trying to be funny?
- No. It was just a suggestion.

Actually, that's not such a bad idea.

Now, then...
Archimedes...fascinating chap. Bit wet.

Brunel...Christopher Columbus...
He had a lot to answer for!

Dante...Da Vinci...Dastari!

Joinson Dastari, HP1, Head of Projects,
Space Station Camera. Third Zone.

- That's him!
- Who?

Dastari. The pioneer of genetic engineering.

Dastari's people are doing
some fascinating work on rho mesons

as the unstable factor in pin galaxies.

I can hardly wait

What are pin galaxies?

They're galaxies
within the universe of the atom.

Difficult to study. They only exist
for one atto-second.

I have no idea what that means!

It means you have to be quick. An atto-second
is a quintillionth of a second.

Right, here we go.

That was a good idea of mine, wasn't it?

- What?
- Getting medical help!

Ugh! Doctor, it's foul!

Are you sure it's safe?

- Plenty of oxygen.
- But that awful smell!

Mainly decaying food...

..and corpses.


That is the smell of death, Peri.

Ancient must heavy in the air.

Fruit-soft flesh peeling from white bones.

The unholy, unburiable smell of Armageddon.

There's nothing quite so evocative
as one's sense of smell, is there?

I feel sick.

I think you'll feel a good deal sicker
before we're finished here.

Laser bolt there. Do you see?

And there.

It must have been quite a fight.


Quite recently, too, otherwise
the atmosphere would have cleared.

- Do you think we should go on any further?
- What?

If there's no one left alive,
there's nothing we can do now.

I want to find out what happened here!
Go back to the Tardis if you like.

No, I'll stay with you.

When I saw this station, I thought of
comet-strike or some such natural disaster,

but it's been deliberately destroyed!

Who would want to stop
the brilliant work that was being done here?

Pure research. It threatened no one!

It threatened the Time Lords.

Would you care to repeat that?

It threatened the Time Lords.

What put that idea
into your apology for a brain?

- Return to your ship and leave.
- Certainly not!

Then this station will switch to defence alert.

I will not be threatened by a computer!

- And put some lights on!
- How do you know it's a computer?

Dear girl, I know a computer
when I talk to one! Come on.

What did it mean, ''defence alert''?

The usual. Floor trips, electronic sensors,
death rays, jets of nerve gas.

Nothing to worry about.

Oh, good. I was afraid it might mean
something serious.

As long as we keep our wits about us!

- What's that noise?
- It's depressurising this section.

No power.

It's getting colder.

We'll die from lack of air
before we freeze to death.

- How long?
- Not many minutes.

We've got to get out of this passageway.

Ah! Thought there'd be one!


Nothing's happening.


I detect only one occupant. A female.

Don't use the gas injector, madam.
They give the flesh an acrid taste.

I'll slaughter it myself.

It might not be edible, Shockeye.
I detect great age.


Are you feeling better?


- Where are we?
- Dastari's office.

- How do you know?
- He liked old, familiar things around him.

He worked out the famous
Theory of Parallel Matter at that desk.

And in pen and ink. He detested computers.

You speak as though you're sure he's dead.

They're all dead, Peri.

40 of the finest scientific minds
ever assembled in one place.

The barbarity of such a deed
is scarcely conceivable!

- Were they a threat to the Time Lords?
- Absolute rubbish!

This institute's only purpose
was to add to the sum total of knowledge.

- Then why did the computer say...?
- I don't know. Not yet.

Programmed to say that, presumably.

- What's that for?
- Switching to visual.

- It must have lost track of us.
- I haven't seen any lenses.

There's an electronic eye somewhere.

- Notice the floor?
- What about it?

Cork insulation and carpet!

So your friend liked to be
comfortable even in space.

It's been tracking us by the heat of our feet.
In here it couldn't detect us.

So it got worried and switched the lights on?

Something like that.

I wonder what it'll try next?

You don't think it'll just leave us alone?

Most unlikely. Think of it
as a game between it and us.

I love games, Doctor - games where
I'm not expecting to end up dead!

- Are you listening?
- Yes...

My word, they were doing
some fascinating work here!

This is Dastari's day journal.

You've told me all I want to know
about pin galaxies!

Some people called Kartz and Reimer
were having some success it seems with...

..experiments in time control!

- But you can already do that.
- I can, yes.

I didn't realise the Third Zoners
were that close to the breakthrough.

Is something wrong?

This last entry.

''The Time Lords are demanding
that Kartz and Reimer suspend their work,

''alleging their experiments
are imperilling the continuum.

''No proof was offered to support this charge
so I rejected the demand.

''Colleagues fear they may forcibly intervene.

''All agree that we must stand firm
and refuse to be intimidated.''

So it WAS the Time Lords?

It's not possible! They'd have found some
other way of halting them, not this massacre!

Maybe they couldn't find another way.

No, they would never commit such an atrocity!

The use of force is alien to Time Lord nature!

Perhaps they felt the ends justified the means.

That's always the excuse
for something really bad.

There must be some other explanation!

- Maybe someone's setting the Time Lords up?
- Setting them up?

Setting... Setting them up?

Sometimes, young Peri,
you make amazingly shrewd remarks!

Yes! It could be
a crude attempt to drive a wedge

between Gallifrey
and the Third Zone governments.

But who'd benefit from that?

I don't know...

but I intend to find out!

If we get out of here alive!

Ah, yes. I was forgetting that.

We still have a homicidal computer to deal with!

It's getting awfully hot and stuffy in here.

Yes. Having failed to freeze us to death,
it's now trying to bake us!

It appears to be a machine
with a distinctly limited repertoire.

Who needs anything fancy?

We've got to get out of here!

We have to do better than that.

We have to get to the control centre
and turn it off!

How will we do that
without being zapped on the way?


We'll find a way into the infrastructure
and work our way across.

It'll be cramped,
but safer than going on the walkways.

Not even a paper clip! You'd think Dastari
would keep a few useful odds and ends around!

Doctor, it's absolutely stifling now.

Yes. It is a bit uncomfortable.

As I thought, I could trip this
if I had a bit of wire!

What are you trying to do?

Save us from death by dehydration.

The computer's turned the power on,
but it hasn't energised the locks.

If only I could...



I don't know much about art,
but I know what I like!

Qui?n est? aqui?

It cannot see.

You are English? Qui?n est??

The creature's bones are dry and brittle.

I sensed it was very old, but its mind
will be of use. Bring it through.

- You carry it, Varl.
- I do not take orders from civilians!

This looks big enough to get down.

- Can't we just take off?
- Not until I find out what happened here!

Doctor, look!

We haven't got time to bother
about dead Androgums.

How do you know it's an Androgum?

I know an Androgum when I see one. Come on!

Shouldn't be too far down.
Put your arms over your head and slide.

- What happens if I get stuck?
- Don't do that. I'll be right behind you.

That was a bit further down than I expected!

- How will we get back up again?
- There'll be service hatches.

You did say it would be cramped.

Thanks for reminding me.

This way, I think.

How can you tell?

I have an unerring sense of direction,
and all the service ducts lead this way.

They must lead to the control centre.

Are you all right?

Sure! I can't remember
when I last had so much fun

Where is Varl?

He's setting up a homing beacon
for the Sontaran ship.

We must ask Stike to make a discreet landing.
This planet is greatly over-populated.

By the time I leave it, madam,
that may not be a problem!

Did you learn much from the dead mind?

It was a puny thing.

This region of the planet is called Andalucia.

We are four kilometres from the city of Seville.

And is the eating good there?

Do?a Arana had little interest in food.

- Her mind was full of her religion.
- Religion?

I am not interested in the beliefs of primitives,
only in what they taste like!

In some ways, Shockeye o' the Quancing Grig,

you are a complete primitive yourself!

You only say that, Chessene,

because of the foreign alien filth
injected into you by Dastari,

but come what may, you are an Androgum.

Never lose sight of your horizons.

Give me your hand.

Good girl.

It would help if we could see!

It can't be much further.

Just far enough to scrape
the skin off another leg!

What is all this stuff, anyway?

Fluidic streams.
Interesting application of an old idea.

I think I detect Dastari's hand in the design!

- There, you see?
- Should you have done that?

They're self-sealing.


The signal in electronic circuits
is carried by the flow of electrons.

- Doctor!
- What?!

I thought I heard something. I was trying
to listen but you kept on talking.

When you ask a question,
you should listen to the answer, my girl!

Otherwise, you'll gain no benefit
from being in my company.

It is the province of knowledge to speak
and the privilege of wisdom to listen!


I can't tell you how privileged I feel

having been half-frozen,
asphyxiated and cooked,

then forced to climb through miles of pipe!

Good, because we have
about another mile to go. Come on!

- Listen!
- What is it?

I heard it again.
There's something down here with us.

- You're imagining it!
- I'm certain I heard something.

- Hydraulics!
- What?

These pumping systems are very old.
There's bound to be the odd wheeze.

That's the fiercest pump I ever heard!

There's something down here with us, Peri!

We must be under the central control area now.

I hope you know what you're doing.

If I didn't, I wouldn't be doing it.
Have a little faith!

- It looks complicated.
- Not at all.

These Type 49 systems are colour-coded.

Defence mechanisms in red,
power supplies in yellow and so forth.

Once we disarm that computer, we should
get some civil answers out of the thing.

- There's a ladder over here.
- Yes, I know. I saw it.

It leads up to the central control area. Blue?

Do you know, I can't remember
what blue stands for!

Oh, well...

- Do you need any help?
- No. This is a job for an expert.

They booby-trapped these computers
to prevent tampering.

- The Berberese Noose was a favourite.
- What's that?

Very nasty.

Leaves you without a head.

I wish I could remember
what that blue line serves.

What does that say, Anita?

- Keep out.
- Perhaps we better had.

It doesn't matter. No one lives
on the hacienda now, only the Do?a Arana.

- The Do?a Arana?
- An old lady. Don Vincente Arana's widow.

- She never leaves the house.
- Where is the house?

Over that hill. In the old days, when my mother
worked for the Don, it was like a palace.

Now it is falling down.

Insipid muck!

Our leader is in descent orbit.

Our leader is Chessene o' the Franzine Grig.

Marshal Stike commands
the Ninth Sontaran Battle Group!

He doesn't command anything here.

- Chessene planned this operation.
- You will see.

We Sontarans lead. We never follow.

Tell him to come in on full mufflers.
That's an order from Chessene!

This is the place. There used to be
hundreds of moths around here.

Yes, it looks
like splendid moth country.

Of course, we are a little early.
Moths are ladies of the night.

Painted beauties sleeping all day
and rising at sunset

to whisper through the roseate dusk
on gossamer wings of damask and silk.

You really like them, don't you, Oscar?

- I adore them!
- Then why do you kill them?

- So that I can look at them.
- What's that for?

Moths to the flame, my dear.

Then I net them
and put them in my cyanide box.

Cyanide? Isn't that terribly dangerous?

Not if one is careful.
I've used cyanide since I was a boy.

It's quicker and kinder to the little creatures
than ammonia.

What do you do with them when they're dead?

I mount them in my collection...

Then I sit and admire them.

- Don't you have a television?
- Get down!

- I thought it was going to hit us!
- It landed over that way.

We ought to go and see.
Somebody might need help.

I do hope not!

I can't bear the sight of gory entrails,
except, of course, on stage.

- It must have crashed!
- Please, Anita. Don't let's go any nearer!

They might be suffering from hideous injuries!

The Do?a Arana won't be able to help them,
and there's no telephone.

We'll have to see if we can help!

- Doctor! Over here!
- What is it?

- I don't know. Come and see!
- In a minute.

There. That should just about have done it.

- Agh!
- Peri!