(DOCTOR WHO THEME)
We've done it. We've done it. It's a complete success!
We're taking off, Brotadac.
If you want to come with us, I suggest you close the doors.
Oh, huh.
Well done, Brotadac.
Destination Zolfa-Thura, I think, General?
I hope it was all worth it, Meglos.
Oh, I think you'll find that this will replace the odd torn jacket, hmm?
MAN ON SPEAKER: The Doctor has escaped. The doors are breached.
All guards to the gate, immediately.
But if that was Meglos, what about the Doctor?
- You're sure he's here? - Positive.
Then where is he?
Oh, great gods of Ti, we offer you this sacrifice
and beseech you to restore the Dodecahedron,
once more to shine in Tigella.
Thanks be to Ti.
ALL: Thanks be to Ti.
(EXHALING)
- Zastor, the Doctor... - Has escaped. We heard.
- No, that was Meglos. - The doppelganger!
You should be up on the surface. You're under attack.
Go!
The power room!
Stop the sacrifice! Stop it!
- Heretic! Take him out! - It's the wrong Doctor!
The other one has escaped. We saw him.
You are forbidden in the power room.
There are two of them. He's innocent.
The Gaztaks have withdrawn.
Yes, and the man you want's gone with them.
Gaztaks? Is this true?
Won't somebody please say yes?
I lost 50% of my crew on Tigella.
Three men? That's the price of success, General.
You would never have done it but for us.
You'll be rewarded, both of you.
All the power you need.
Take over, Brotadac.
One day, I will go back to Tigella, with an army!
BROTADAC: Approaching Zolfa-Thura.
Approaching full potential.
Precisely. Precisely.
I saw him holding the Dodecahedron, Doctor.
Yes, but what does this Meglos want?
He talked about taking it back to the dead planet.
Zolfa-Thura? Huh.
Why would he want to do a thing like that?
- There's nothing there except sand. - Right.
And the screens.
Screens? What screens?
The screens of Zolfa-Thura.
Of course, the screens of Zolfa-Thura.
- What's he doing now? - I can't tell just yet.
- Buried it? - Hmm.
Do you think he'll let me have that?
What, the coat?
But it's not cold, is it?
It's a rather nice coat. Now that he's finished playing the Doctor.
Well, gentlemen, we are ready.
- What happens next? - Activation.
(GASPING)
(DEVICE BUZZING)
Now to see it work.
Good luck on Zolfa-Thura, Doctor.
Thank you, Zastor. Come on, Romana, we're in a hurry.
LEXA: Romana!
(GASPING)
- She's dead. - She saved my life.
Yes. But we've got other things to do, other lives to save. Come on.
My fellow Zolfa-Thurans tried to destroy all we had
and all we knew to prevent this moment.
The screens are absorbing the power.
Magnifying it, concentrating it.
Five beams they throw out can be made to convert on any point in the galaxy.
And blast it?
To infinitesimal dust.
Brotadac, you're a discerning sort of fellow.
Choose a planet, any planet.
Oh, make your own mind up for a change.
Well, I'd rather have the coat.
And you, General Grugger? What's your choice?
Tigella. I'd start with Tigella.
(TARDIS WHOOSHING)
Well done, we're very close.
It's lighting up the whole sky.
Right, now, you all stay here.
- But you can't go alone. - Those Gaztaks kill on sight.
Exactly. On sight. If Meglos can impersonate me...
You can impersonate Meglos.
Right. I won't be long.
Final adjustment for relative motion.
(MACHINERY BUZZING)
Well, gentlemen, the beams are now programmed to focus upon Tigella.
- Start the countdown? - Patience!
Brotadac, we are about to release a power
many magnitudes greater than any intelligence has ever controlled.
We are?
- There can be no room for error. - Mmm-hmm.
I'll just recheck the screen alignments.
Shirtsleeves, eh?
Ah... Uh...
Would you say this was vertical?
- No. - No, nor would I.
Hmm.
Um, would you just mind holding it up for me while I check from the side?
Thanks.
There we are.
- Put it on. - What will he say?
Doesn't matter. I've got this all figured out.
We don't need him. Put it on.
Now, that was quick.
Well, I cut a few corners. I say, I like his coat.
Now, what have we got here?
- Start the countdown? - Not yet, not yet.
- I thought it was already programmed. - Programmed?
To annihilate Tigella.
Oh, well, it is. Yes, it is, nearly.
Just a few minor adjustments. I wonder what that's for?
You said it focused the beams.
Oh, of course, yes. Ha-ha, of course.
Two coats.
Splendid. The magnification levels are constant.
One more check and we're ready to go.
Screens. It's unbelievable!
I'd like to have a closer look.
I think we should.
Come along, K9.
You've served me so well, I thought you both deserved a little treat.
So, it's now just the countdown and then activation.
- That's it. - Good, let's get on with it.
- Sixty, uh, 59... - No, no, Brotadac, no!
The screens don't reach their maximum capacity for two minutes.
I'm just going outside for a little stroll,
to see if I can catch up with myself.
And I don't recommend anyone touch those controls.
- Get him. - What?
Yes, put him in the spacecraft security hold.
We can manage without him.
Get him!
That's yours, too, if you want.
Oh... (SLOBBERING)
Get him!
Shouldn't you be doing something? (GROANS)
Oh! Nasty.
That could have been me.
- What do they think they're playing at? - Why? Is there... (GROANS)
Get him into the ship.
I knew he wouldn't get away with it.
They've caught the Doctor.
(GRUNTING)
Haven't I seen you somewhere before?
Stay there. If he tries anything, kill him.
What are we going to do now?
Ten thousand years.
Cretins! Morons! Half-wits.
Yes, they've not been very clever, have they? Unlike us.
They probably won't even hit Tigella.
Well, if my calculations are correct, they certainly won't.
Your calculations?
I inverted your control setting.
If he starts the countdown, he'll destroy himself,
as well as you and me and, uh, well, the whole planet, of course.
(CHUCKLING)
He's locked away. No trouble.
Precisely. Prepare the countdown.
(SOFTLY) Go, K9.
He must be in there. K9, can you open it?
K9: Affirmative, Mistress.
Three metres by five metres,
and I could have had the galaxy, the universe.
- Ah, yes, I've often puzzled about that. - What?
Well, why a good-looking chap like you should want to control the universe?
Why?
Yes, I mean, it baffles me, this burning ambition to... Burning?
- It's beyond your comprehension. - Oh, absolutely. Burning?
Doctor!
Oh, good heavens.
Out of my way.
- No, Meglos! Hold him! - MEGLOS: You can't take me!
Got you this time, Meglos!
On the contrary, Earthling, it's merely you they've got.
What's happened? What's going on?
- Was that Meglos? - Yes.
He must have modulated himself on a particular wavelength of light.
Yes, he's what you'd call a colourful personality.
But that would make him virtually indestructible.
Yes, but we're not. Quick, back to the Tardis.
- Or do you want to be atomised? - Atomised?
- Yes. - No.
Good.
Thirty seconds to beams converging.
Twenty-nine, 28, 27, 26...
BROTADAC: ... 25, 24...
You're not going to let us down this time, are you?
BROTADAC: ... 23, 22...
(WHOOSHING)
... 21, 20, 19, 18...
17, 16, 15, 14...
13, 12, 11,
10, 9...
DOCTOR: It's time this thing had a thorough overhaul.
... seven, six...
five... - GRUGGER: We're moving!
four... What? Five...
- The laboratory's sinking. - Sinking. Four...
BROTADAC: ... five, four... GRUGGER: Stop the countdown!
- But the clock's set. - Stop the clock!
- Must be this button. - Stop the countdown!
- But the clock's set. - Stop the clock!
- Right, it must be this button. - Fool! Stop!
Well, we made a beginning, Doctor.
Yes, I'd like to stay and help you but horticulture's not my strong point.
- Doctor? - Yes?
- Gallifrey. - Hmm?
They want us back immediately.
Gallifrey? Do they, indeed?
Well, we'll see about that when we've dropped our friend off home.
Unless, of course, you want to stay here and do some gardening?
Well, maybe I will. I'll be in trouble back home.
Oh?
I told the wife I'd be in from work in 20 minutes.
Well, don't worry about that. We can get you back before you leave.
Oh, good.