(DOCTOR WHO THEME)
(GROWLS)
(WHOOSHING)
Who the heck are you?
Well?
I am usually referred to as the Master.
Oh, is that so?
- Universally. - Mmm.
Well, I am Luigi Rossini, internationally,
and conjurers I don't need. Okay?
Unfortunately, I need you, Lew Russell.
What did you call me?
Lew Russell. It happens to be your real name.
Now listen, mister. Get off my pitch while you're still safe!
Why, you insolent primitive.
Oh, so you want it the hard way, do you? Right.
(ROSSINI GRUNTING)
Hey, you! What do you think you're doing?
DOCTOR: ♪ I don't want to set the world on fire ♪
(EXPLOSION)
(DOCTOR COUGHING)
(HUMMING)
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
Not today, thank you.
- Doctor, I... - I said not today, thank you.
(WHIRRING)
Oh, no!
(DOCTOR COUGHING)
- Oh, no! - It's all right. I've dealt with it.
- Dealt with it? You've ruined it! - But your bench was on fire.
Three months' delicate work and now look at it, you ham-fisted bun vendor!
But this whole place might have gone up in flames.
My dear young lady, steady state micro welding
always creates more smoke than fire.
- Steady state micro welding? - Yes.
An advanced engineering technique pioneered by the Lamadines.
A remarkably gifted race. They have nine opposable digits.
- Nine what? - Nine opposable digits.
Yes, well, never mind.
Look, I said I don't want any tea today, thank you.
I'm not the tea lady.
out of bounds to everybody except the tea lady
- and the Brigadier's personal staff? - I'm your new assistant.
- Oh, no. - The Brigadier sent me along
to introduce myself, Doctor. Josephine Grant.
How do you do, Miss Grant?
But I... I really don't think you're suitable.
I'm a fully qualified agent, you know. Cryptology, safe-breaking, explosives.
Firefighting?
Yes, well, I'm sorry, my dear, but what I need is a scientist.
- I took general science at A-level. - I'm sure you did, but even so.
- I'm sorry I ruined your experiment. - That's all right.
Look, Miss Grant, I've got a great deal of work to do.
You must excuse me.
The Brigadier wanted me to show you this report.
- Mmm? - Something was stolen
from the National Space Museum. It was on loan from this HQ.
Oh, what was?
A translucent polyhedron, eight and a half inches in diameter.
Well, that's the Nestene's energy unit. It should never have left this building.
Apparently they wanted it for a special display.
The Brigadier signed the authorisation.
The Brigadier's an idiot!
I knew I should have destroyed that thing,
but somehow it would have felt like murder.
- You mean it was alive? - Yes, in a way.
Yes, that container held a form of alien intelligence.
But you've just got to be joking.
There's precious little to joke about, Miss Grant.
That thing is appallingly dangerous.
- But who would want to steal it? - Exactly.
Who and why?
(MACHINE WHIRRING)
- I told her again last night. - Hmm?
Elsie. "Cut out the hard-boiled eggs," I said.
Quite apart from their effects on my digestion,
- they're aesthetically boring. - Uh-huh.
(MACHINE STOPS WHIRRING)
- Here you are. - Ah, thank you, Goodge.
- Will there be anything else? - Not for the moment.
Oh, by the way, talking of eggs, I want a four-hour scan
- below the hydrogen line tomorrow. - All right.
I'll give you the precise wavelength later.
Goodge! What the blazes is happening?
(BEEPING)
Goodge, do you hear me?
The shaft angling code has gone crazy. Are you there, man?
Check the feedback control!
(BEEPS FASTER)
PHILIPS: Goodge! What the devil do you think you're playing at?
BRIGADIER: You've been agitating for a new assistant
ever since Miss Shaw went back to Cambridge.
Liz was a highly qualified scientist.
I want someone with the same qualifications.
Nonsense. What you need, Doctor, as Miss Shaw herself so often remarked,
is someone to pass you your test tubes and to tell you how brilliant you are.
Miss Grant will fulfil that function admirably.
Oh. Well, what's the girl doing here anyway? UNIT's no place for trainees.
No, I couldn't agree more, Doctor,
but Miss Grant was very keen to join us
and she happens to have relatives in high places.
So you tried to palm her off onto me.
Well, it won't work, Brigadier.
I'll have a properly qualified assistant or none at all.
- Very well, Doctor. I'll reassign her. - Good.
But I think you should break the news to her yourself.
- Well, now, wait a minute. - Hi, Doc. I... Good morning, sir.
- Morning, Miss Grant. - I've checked all incoming reports.
- Still nothing on the stolen meteorite. - Thank you.
And I've chased those electronic spares you wanted.
They promised delivery tomorrow, without fail.
Miss Grant, I, um...
I, uh...
(CLEARS THROAT) Well, I don't...
This is a bit difficult for me to say but...
Thank you, Jo. I can see you're going to be of great help to me.
Thank you, Doctor.
Report from one our field sections, sir. Captain Yates.
Some kind of sabotage at a radio telescope.
Two of their scientists have disappeared.
Let me see that.
We'd better get down there right away.
The Director's expecting you, sir.
Is that where the sabotage took place?
No, sir. It seems to have happened in the control cabin
in the top of that tower.
Well, that's where you'll find me, then.
No, Miss Grant. You stay here with the Brigadier.
Director? Miss Josephine Grant
and Brigadier Lethbridge Stewart of UNIT.
Good morning.
(WHOOSHING)
Oh, dear. Don't go away, Doctor.
My coordinates seem to have slipped a little.
Still, not bad after 29,000 light years.
I do hope you can... (CHUCKLES) spare a moment or two, Doctor?
Sarcasm always was a weak point with you, wasn't it?
May I say that I think you look quite ridiculous in those clothes?
- I am travelling incognito. - Oh? Why?
We Time Lords don't care to be conspicuous.
Some of us, that is.
Now, look, if you've come down here merely to be rude...
I came to warn you.
An old acquaintance has arrived on this planet.
Oh? One of our people?
The Master.
That jackanapes! All he ever does is cause trouble.
He'll certainly try to kill you, Doctor.
The tribunal thought that you ought to be made aware of your danger.
How very kind of them.
You are incorrigibly meddlesome, Doctor,
but we've always felt that your hearts are in the right places.
But be careful.
The Master has learnt a great deal since you last met him.
I refuse to be worried by a renegade like the Master.
He's... He's an unimaginative plodder.
His degree in cosmic science was of a higher class than yours.
Yes, well...
(CLEARS THROAT) Yes, well, I was a late developer.
Would you call that little surprise unimaginative?
- What? - Look through the door.
But be careful.
DOCTOR: It's a volatiser.
If that thing should fall...
It'll explode and probably destroy this research centre completely.
You see, he's rigged it up so that opening the door will make it fall.
(LAUGHS) Such an amusing idea.
Well, you'd better think of a witty way of dealing with it.
(WHOOSHING)
Now, wait!
Oh. Good luck!
Ah!
(EXHALES)
(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)
- YATES: Any luck? - Keep back.
- What's that? - A bomb.
A bomb! Is it defused?
It is now.
Where on earth did you find it?
(DIRECTOR CLEARS THROAT)
YATES: Oh, I'm so sorry. This is the Director.
DIRECTOR: How do you do?
I hope you realise the police have already investigated this matter.
Where's Lethbridge Stewart?
DIRECTOR: He and Miss Grant are questioning the staff.
Hmm. A fat lot of good that'll do.
After all, it's hardly an international matter, is it?
I understand you've lost a couple of scientists.
Yes. Professor Philips and his assistant, Goodge.
DIRECTOR: Goodge must have left in quite a hurry.
DOCTOR: Yes. Yes, he must.
Oh, no!
- YATES: What's wrong? - Look for yourself.
It's Goodge!
I'm very glad you could see me at such short notice, Mr Farrel.
Well, your telephone call was pretty intriguing, Colonel.
- Do sit down. - Oh, thank you.
Uh...
We do have a little spare capacity at the moment.
I would say more than a little, considering that your plant
has been working at less than half volume for over a year.
I see you've done your homework, Colonel.
Well, I admit I was interested when you mentioned a steady repeat demand.
The people I represent, Mr Farrel, can never have too much plastic.
- What is a Nestene? - Ask Captain Yates.
He had the job of clearing up the mess last time.
- Well, what is a Nestene? - Oh, a Nestene. It's, um... a, uh...
(EXCLAIMS SOFTLY)
Well, it's a bit difficult to describe, exactly.
A Nestene is a ruthlessly aggressive intelligent alien life form.
- Well, what do they look like? - Well, I suspect myself
their basic form is analogous to a cephalopod.
- What's a cephalopod? - An octopus.
I thought you took an A-level in science?
I didn't say I passed. Ugh, an octopus!
They manifest themselves as a disembodied,
mutually telepathic intelligence.
But if they're disembodied, how can they hurt us?
YATES: They make themselves bodies when they need them.
You mean like Frankenstein?
No. They have a natural affinity for plastic.
Now, if you've quite finished asking questions.
Sorry. Just forget I'm here.
At least we shall be ready for them this time.
Too late, Captain. They're here already.
What?
The radio telescope is their bridgehead.
They used that to channel energy into that surviving Nestene unit.
Brigadier. Look, that unit must be discovered within the next hour.
Yes, I'm well aware of the urgency of the situation, Doctor.
If we had some idea where it's been taken.
DOCTOR: Well, try the plastic factories, man.
Yes. I'll set up a search right away. Yates.
- Right, sir. - Can I help, sir? Please?
- Very well, Miss Grant. - I'll start by making out some lists.
You will obey me and no one else. Do you understand?
I shall obey. I shall obey. I shall obey.
And you're convinced this man is working with the Nestenes?
Oh, I should think by now he'll be calling himself
their Commander in Chief.
Vanity's his weakness.
Ah, there you are. It should be cooked by now.
This, uh... This device of his. Is it very powerful?
Oh, I should say roughly equal to a 15-megaton bomb.
Really? Well, the research boys will be glad to get their hands on this.
Too late, Brigadier. I've boiled out the contents.
The weapons that you have on Earth are quite nasty enough as it is.
(BEEPING)
- Now the computer. - This way.
(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)
I see. Excellent.
What are you going to do?
I wish to alter the master plan.
But that would change our whole production lines!
- Naturally. - My father would never dream
- of allowing... - My dear Mr Farrel,
don't worry about him. You are under a new thumb now.
Oh, hello.
MASTER: Who went to the Radio Telescope Station?
Myself, the Brigadier and the Doctor.
MASTER: As I thought. Curiosity is his weakness.
Well, I shall have to see that it's satisfied.
You will return to UNIT with a negative report.
You found nothing suspicious. Everything was in order.
Yes. Everything in order.
When you leave this room you will have no memory of meeting me,
- only Mr Farrel. - Only Mr Farrel.
Your instructions are already implanted.
You will obey them without a further word from me.
- I shall obey. - Good.
- YATES: Yes, what is it, Sergeant? - Excuse me, sir.
We've just had a call from the civil police.
They found Philip's car abandoned.
- Where? - In a field about nine miles
from the research station.
And they say there's a zinc box in the boot with UNIT markings.
YATES: The energy unit?
BENTON: I've told them not to touch it, Doctor.
YATES: What do you think, Doctor?
- I still am. - YATES: Huh?
Thinking.
(CHUCKLES) I think you'd better go home.
Sure, look, I know all our customers
and there isn't a Colonel Masters amongst them.
You're quite wrong, James.
He's taking over our entire production at the moment.
Entire...? Here, look, I'll tell you what, Rex. Now, look.
You go through those orders, yes, and you show me this chap. Go on.
All right.
I don't understand. There should be a card for him!
Look, Rex, I think you ought to take a couple of days off.
I'll ring your father and he can come...
May I remind you, Mr McDermott, that my father is retired?
I'm running this place now.
Your father built this place up from nothing.
Sure, I remember. When I was a wee lad, he...
All right, all right, all right! Let's not go over all that again.
Look, I'm sorry, Rex, but I especially promised your father I would...
There's no need to bring Father into it!
Look, I'll go and fetch him. He's only down in the lab.
- Who? - Colonel Masters, of course.
He'll explain everything.
Sylvia, get me Mr Farrel Senior, please.
(BEEPING)
No! Don't be frightened, Farrel.
The Autons are my servants. Why did you come here?
Hmm. That's not an issue padlock, is it?
No. I'll try and find some keys.
I can open it.
A key for every occasion, eh?
Doctor, we've got the box down here.
DOCTOR: Good. I'll be right down.
Stop her! That's a bomb!
(YATES GROANS)
JO: I've got to open it! I've got to!