(DOCTOR WHO THEME)
Hello, Doctor. Is that you?
Who is this? What do you want?
Simply to say goodbye, Doctor.
(ELECTRONIC WHIRRING)
DOCTOR: Help, Brigadier! Help!
The cable. Pull it out! Pull it out!
(DOCTOR SIGHS)
(WHIRRING STOPS)
- You all right, Doctor? - Yes, more or less.
Afraid I cut your connection.
- Oh, very amusing. - What happened?
Well, remember what I told you, Brigadier?
The Nestenes can put life into anything made of plastic.
Anything at all.
I see. And there's a lot of plastic around.
YATES: Doctor?
- Doctor? - (CLICKING TONGUE)
(SIGHS)
Well, I was wrong. It isn't heat.
- Well? - Message from the Brigadier.
- What is it this time? - It's about these daffodils.
- What about them? - You remember we had a report
- of a plastics promotion tour? - Mmm-hmm.
Well, they're handing out daffodils.
Who are?
Chaps in weird carnival masks, touring round in a coach.
- Did they say how many they'd given out? - No, they didn't.
We've got no idea at all, I'm afraid.
We don't even know how long they've been doing it.
The thing is, the Brigadier wants to know if the daffs are dangerous.
That, Captain Yates, is what I'm trying to find out.
Excellent. Where was it?
Well, give me the grid reference.
Yeah.
No, just maintain contact. I want to tackle them in open country.
Good. Keep me informed.
Lethbridge Stewart here, I want a call to the RAF, please.
Priority Red One. Strike Command.
Excuse me, Jo.
- What are you doing? - This is a section of that daffodil.
I'm trying to find out its molecular structure.
(ELECTRONIC WHIRRING)
Well...
Hello, what's this? A program pattern.
- A program pattern? - Hmm.
Yes, these daffodils have their instructions imprinted on every cell.
It's a weapon of some sort, but what sort?
Well, will those signs help you find out?
DOCTOR: They will if I can translate them.
My word, you look very fierce!
We've located that coachload of Nestene Autons
- distributing those daffodils, Doctor. - Good.
They're hiding in that same quarry where they took you.
Well, that's curious. Was the Master with them?
I couldn't say. You might be able to identify him afterwards.
Afterwards?
I've got the RAF to lay on a rocket strike.
In a few hours' time, that coach will be a pile of scrap iron.
The military mind at its most scintillating.
Faced with a problem, they blast it off the face of the Earth.
- What do you think we should do? - Nothing.
Keep them under observation for a while
and give me a chance to find out the purpose of these flowers.
I'm sorry, Doctor. I can't afford to take that risk.
If that coach moves to a populated area, it'll be impossible to destroy it.
The strike will go ahead as planned.
- Captain Yates? - Yes, Doctor?
- How long have we got? - About an hour and a half.
The RAF boys are setting things up now,
and we have established an observation point at the quarry.
- Mike, can we reach you there? - Sure.
We'll be in radio contact with HQ and with the RAF.
You can get us on one of these. See you, Doc. Bye, Jo.
An hour and a half.
- Everything seems quiet. - AUTON: The humans are watching us.
- How do you know? -We were followed to this place.
But won't their program pattern be in Nestene?
Yes, well done.
That's why I'm converting it to visual symbols.
(ELECTRONIC BEEPING)
- Ah, here it comes. - That's a face.
- A part of one. - Yes. Yes, a nose and a mouth.
- What does that mean? - I've no idea.
So, what next?
Well, if it is a weapon, we must find out what triggers it off.
Jo, get in touch with the Brigadier, will you?
See if he can hold up that air strike. I must have more time.
Hello, Greyhound. This is Trap One. Do you read me? Over.
(RADIO STATIC)
There seems to be something wrong.
Hello, Greyhound. This is Trap One. Do you read me? Over.
- Jo, look! - It's alive!
Shortwave radio.
You must have triggered it off with that walkie-talkie.
Of course. They must be planning to set them all off at once
with a gigantic radio signal.
If I could only find out... (MUTTERING QUIETLY)
It seems to be looking for something.
Jo, be careful. Jo!
(GASPS)
It's all over. You all right?
Just a bit short of breath. What happened?
Well, your nose and mouth were sealed off with this.
- What's that? - Plastic film.
You would have been unconscious in two minutes, dead in under 10.
So all those people were killed by the daffodils?
Yes.
Yes, they must have triggered them off accidentally, just as you did.
- Jo, do something for me, will you? - Yes, of course.
Get in touch with that idiot Brownrose.
See if plastic daffodils were found at the scenes of any of those deaths.
Oh, and ask him if anybody was using shortwave radios, will you?
Okay.
- You all right? - Fine, Doctor. And thank you.
Thank you, Eagle. Message confirmed. Over and out.
That's it then, sir. Air strike confirmed.
Right.
No word from the Doctor then, sir?
No. The air strike's due to begin in... 37 minutes.
If the Doctor's coming up with anything, he'd better be quick.
Now, why wasn't this stuff found on the bodies?
Yes, of course.
Dissolved by carbon dioxide from the lungs.
MASTER: Good afternoon, Doctor.
I hope I'm not interrupting anything important.
No, indeed not.
You've come here to kill me, of course?
- But not without considerable regret. - How very comforting.
You see, Doctor, you're my intellectual equal.
Almost.
I have so few worthy opponents. When they've gone, I always miss them.
- How did you get in here? - Oh, don't be trivial, Doctor.
I see you've been working on the Nestene Auto-jet,
my own small contribution to their invasion plan.
Mmm. Vicious, complicated and inefficient.
- Typical of your way of thinking. - Now, come, come, Doctor.
Death is always more frightening when it strikes invisibly.
Tell me, how do you intend to activate these flowers?
Oh, by a radio impulse which the Nestenes will send.
I shall open the channel for them.
We've distributed 450,000 of these daffodils.
So, when 450,000 people fall dead, the country will be disrupted.
And in the confusion, the Nestenes will land their invasion force.
Exactly.
It's a shame that you can't be here
to enjoy the chaos and destruction with me.
Goodbye, Doctor.
- You were quite right... - Wait! Don't shoot.
Doctor, you do disappoint me.
We Time Lords are expected to face death with dignity.
- Oh, no! - Don't worry.
He's not going to kill me.
That is your last mistake.
If you fire that thing, you will never be able to leave this planet.
You're bluffing on an empty hand, Doctor.
I'm not bluffing and my hand, as you can see, is not empty.
If you kill me, you will destroy the dematerialisation circuit
from your own Tardis.
You recognise it, I feel sure.
- Where did you get that? - The circus.
You underestimate me, Doctor.
Let me be quite plain.
Either you hand that unit over to me now,
or I kill Miss Grant.
- Touché. - Don't! He's beaten already!
- They're going to bomb the quarry. - Jo!
Oh.
There's been a slight change of plan, Doctor.
I've decided to let you live, for a little while.
Not long now, sir.
What's happening out there?
AUTON: The humans are planning to attack us.
We should try and leave.
We shall leave soon. Our task is not yet completed.
He's left us! He's deserted!
How did I get here? I'm not part of this!
(GROANS)
- Twenty nine, twenty eight... - Look, sir.
- Benton, stop that air strike! - It's too late, sir.
Well, try, man, try!
Eagle, Eagle, Eagle. Abort, abort, abort!
(JET ROARING IN DISTANCE)
(JET ROARING OVERHEAD)
Now, tie these two up.
Not a sign of life down there.
What do we do if they try to move out?
I don't know.
Farrel?
- AUTON: Farrel became undependable. - Did he?
His father would have been proud of him.
Ow!
MASTER: Yes, Miss Grant, they are a little heavy-handed.
I apologise for your last moments on Earth being so uncomfortable, Doctor.
Thank you.
Right, you come with me.
(ELECTRONIC BEEPING)
Now, because of the change in circumstances,
we're going to have to bring our schedule forward.
What we're going to do is this. It's absolutely essential that we...
(SOFTLY) Jo, you know where we are, don't you?
(WHISPERING) Roughly, why?
We're just three or four miles from that radio telescope.
So?
The Master will activate the daffodils from there.
- What are you doing? - We've got to warn UNIT.
If I can just reach these brake pedals.
Doctor, if you're going to drive, I want to get off.
No. I only hope the Brigadier's keeping his eyes open. Got it!
Sir! Sir! The brake lights are flashing.
BRIGADIER: Yes, you're right. Somebody's signalling.
The Doctor!
BRIGADIER: Benton? BENTON: Yes, sir?
BRIGADIER: Get this down.
E-S-T...
- Do you think they're getting it? - I can just keep trying.
(MASTER INSTRUCTING AUTONS, INDISTINCT)
BRIGADIER: ... I-O-N.
That's it. Read that back, Benton.
"Daffodils are lethal. Activated soon. Destroy immediately.
"Guard radio research station."
Benton, send an alert to the civil police.
I want radio and TV warnings,
loudspeaker vans, house-to-house, the lot.
Right away, sir.
Captain Yates, rustle up every available man
and put a guard on that radio research station.
BENTON: Hello, Bluebottle Three,
- this is Greyhound. - I'll stay here by the coach.
BENTON: Do you read me? Over.
Jo, it's a pity escapology wasn't part of your curriculum.
Funny you should say that. Look.
Well done! Careful!
I hope that you two have enjoyed your little rest.
Right, the time has come for our final move.
(ENGINE STARTING)
- They're on the move. Come on, Benton. - Right, sir.
That's it, I'm free.
If he slows down, we might be able to jump for it.
Right.
Right, take your positions! Quick!
MASTER: Get back, Farrel!
Let go!
(GROANS)
- Are you all right? - It's my ankle.
AUTON: Two humans have escaped.
Never mind about them! I must get to the radio telescope.
The Auto-jets are being destroyed. It's too late.
No! Get out there, all of you. Keep those soldiers back!
(GUNFIRE)
- Brigadier, those daffodils... - Doctor, look!
The radio telescope! We must stop him reaching the control.
He'll open the channel for the Nestenes.
(SCREAMING)
Benton, get a stretcher party, and get some more men.
Right, sir.
(GUNFIRE CONTINUES BELOW)
- It's locked. - Stand back, Doctor.
(GUNSHOTS)
Too late, Doctor. The Nestenes are here.
An amateur landing, of course. Not the way I planned it.
- If only we could shut off the power. - Impossible. They've taken control.
No one can stop them now. Your precious little planet is finished.
If we're finished, then you're finished, too.
Nonsense! I helped them to come here.
Do you really think that that thing will distinguish between you and us?
It's no good, sir. We just can't hold them.
BRIGADIER: Can't you do anything, Doctor?
Not unless we change the polarity.
Whilst the transfer shift is still open?
- It'll fling them right out into space. - You're right!
BRIGADIER: Well, you'd better try it and quick!
DOCTOR: Get on to the transfer bank. I'll switch the power through.
- Are you ready? - Yes!
DOCTOR: Right, now!
Well, Doctor, it worked.
Yes, but only just.
Another minute and we'd have been too late.
- He's gone! - After him, quick!
JO: Look!
(GUNSHOTS)
Sir! He's in the coach, sir. We've got him now.
Don't be too sure.
Don't trust him, Brigadier. It's a trick.
YATES: Well, that's the end of him.
I told you not to be too sure.
- (BUS APPROACHING) - JO: Look out!
Well, we found the abandoned coach, but the Master disappeared completely.
He's probably left Earth by now.
- DOCTOR: Oh, no. - What makes you so sure?
Well his Tardis can't go anywhere. Not without this.
BRIGADIER: And what the dickens is that?
That's a dematerialisation circuit. It's very complicated.
JO: So, the one he took from you...
Belonged to my Tardis, yes.
Yes, I've been trying to repair it for months.
And now he's stuck here on Earth.
Yes, I'm afraid so.
BRIGADIER: Think he'll turn up again, Doctor?
Mmm, bound to.
You don't seem very worried about it.
I'm not. As a matter of fact, Jo, I'm rather looking forward to it.