RADIO: (transatlantic accent) Feeling like nothing on Earth? Come to Space World and fly to the Moon! Life getting humdrum? Come to Space World and take a trip to the stars! Kids getting you down? Bring them to Space World, the new theme park only ten minutes walk from Hampstead Station! For a mere twenty pounds a head, you can have the experience of a lifetime! Space rides to take your breath away. Light sabre duels with the Robot of Death, challenges from the Space Gladiators Elite, and fabulous prizes to be won. But best of all, the monsters from outer space! Twenty one alien creatures, so perfect in every detail you have to believe they're real! Come to Space World, the great day out for all the family!
FREETH: Not bad. Not bad at all. Young Kitson is learning. I could have wished that he had mentioned the name of the corporation. That, after all, is the object of the exercise. Perhaps we should have called it the Parakon Corporation Space Park, like a sponsored horse race. It lacks a certain je ne sais quois, though, wouldn't you say, Tragan?
TRAGAN: If it did the job.
FREETH: You're a pragmatist, of course. The finer feelings are a closed book to you. It must be the effect of consorting with those ghastly little pets of yours.
TRAGAN: Hmm. You'd have been in a fine pickle without them last time.
FREETH: True, true. A nasty moment.
FREETH: How much longer, Crestin?
CRESTIN [on comm]: We'll be landing in two or three minutes, Chairman Freeth.
FREETH: About time. Well, Tragan, here we go again.

BILL + NOBBY: (drunken singing) Here we go, here we go, here we go.
BILL: Look. Hey, belt up, will you?
NOBBY: What?
BILL: Giss a leg up.
NOBBY: What you on about?
BILL: It's that new space park. You know, all the fuss in the papers. Monsters and that. Come on, Nobby, there's nobody about.
(The rattle of a chain link fence.)

CRESTIN [on comm]: Okay, Mister Freeth. Coming in to land now.
FREETH: Very good. What are you doing, Tragan?
TRAGAN: An elementary precaution.
FREETH: You're always such an old misery, Tragan. There'll be no trouble. Kitson would have warned us.
TRAGAN: That's just what you said last time. Back! I said, back!

(Knocking over bins.)
BILL: Hey, get up. Get up, you great nerd. Hey, look at this. The giant ostroid from the planet Veldron.
NOBBY: Its kick could disim, disembowel and elephant. Cor.
BILL: Fly through the gargantuan caverns of southern Mars. Take a walk on the wild side of Mercury.
NOBBY: Hey, what's that? It's a bleeding UFO, landing and all.
BILL: God.
NOBBY: Oh, what we waiting for?
BILL: Come back! Nobby!

(Something alive hisses and pants on the end of a chain.)
FREETH: Ah, Kitson.
KITSON: Welcome back, Mister Freeth, May I introduce Mister Grebber?
FREETH: How do you do, Mister Grebber. We meet at last.
GREBBER: An honour, Mister Freeth. A great honour indeed.
FREETH: No trouble?
KITSON: Everything's going very well. In fact it's going better than
NOBBY: Hey, where's the little green men then?
BILL: Nobby, let's get out of here!
NOBBY: Take me to your leader.
TRAGAN: Go, go, go!
(Tragan releases his animal. Nobby and Bill scream and gurgle. When they stop, and we only hear the sound of something crunching on bone, Tragan chuckles.)
FREETH: That was hardly necessary, Tragan.
TRAGAN: But very satisfying, you must admit.
GREBBER: Oh, god. They're
FREETH: Not feeling well, Grebber? Don't let them both be eaten. A corpse could be good publicity.

(Beeps and other electronic noises in the background.)
SARAH: Now come on, Doctor. You're not seriously telling me that you travelled back to Atlantis in that old police box?
DOCTOR: My dear Sarah. As they used to say on Venus. Look, hold that still for me, will you? Yeah, that's right.
SARAH: They used to say what?
SARAH: On Venus?
DOCTOR: Oh, yes. You'd swallow a Klakluk and choke on a minian dust-fly.
SARAH: A Klakluk?
DOCTOR: A Klakluk, yes. A large lumpy beast, bit like a moose with no horns. Nervous creature. It had two heads, so that a pack of patifangs couldn't creep up on it. Never knew whether it was coming or going. Very confused animal, all in all. Yeah, thank you.
DOCTOR: You can let go now.
SARAH: Oh! Oh, yes. Well, what's all that got to do with going back to Atlantis?
DOCTOR: Well, you've travelled in the Tardis yourself, about eight hundred years back to Merrie England.
SARAH: Merry? That lot?
DOCTOR: Grim bunch, weren't they. Old Irongron and his chums. But if you can swallow that, why choke on a mere three thousand years more?
SARAH: Oh, Atlantis, it's a fantasy, a legend.
DOCTOR: Mark you, it was quite a hairy trip. Poor old Tardis was almost done for. Time ram.
SARAH: Oh, don't tell me. The Tardis was attacked by a randy sheep with a clock for a face.
DOCTOR: Mmm. Time collision. She collided with another Tardis in the time vortex. They ended up inside each other.
SARAH: You mean the Tardis was inside the other one?
DOCTOR: Mmm. And the other one was inside the Tardis. No way out, like being inside a four dimensional Moebius strip.
SARAH: I have a feeling you're not taking this interview very seriously, Doctor. My editor
DOCTOR: Interview?
SARAH: She's going to say it's a load of old rubbish.
DOCTOR: You mean to tell me that you've been interviewing me?
SARAH: Well, well, yes. I, I thought you
DOCTOR: Look, my dear Miss Smith, just because you saved my life a couple of times, that hardly entitles you
(The door opens, the oscilloscope burbles.)
BRIGADIER: Ah, there you are, Doctor.
DOCTOR: Well, of course I am. Where else should I be? Honestly, Lethbridge Stewart, at times you can be extremely annoying.
BRIGADIER: Ah, good morning.
(Door closes.)
DOCTOR: This is Miss Sarah Jane Smith, a journalist. She's just leaving.
SARAH: No, I wasn't. Look, Doctor, I'm sorry if I've upset you but
DOCTOR: Is it important, Brigadier? Because I'm trying to get some work done. Goodbye, Miss Smith.
SARAH: But Doctor, I
DOCTOR: Look, the psychotelometric circuit of the Tardis has gone on the blink, Brigadier, and I'm trying to
DOCTOR: Oh look, now look what you made me do now. What do you want, for Pete's sake?
BRIGADIER: Well, I want you to come with me to the opening of this new exhibition thing on Hampstead Heath. I have to er
DOCTOR: Exhibition?
BRIGADIER: Oh, a theme park, fun fair, whatever. You must have noticed the Apollo rocket. Dominates the whole north London skyline.
SARAH: You mean Space World? I might come too. The press showing is at twelve.
BRIGADIER: That's the fellow. Twelve o'clock. What you might call a private viewing.
DOCTOR: Lethbridge Stewart, let me understand you right. You have catastrophically interrupted a very tricky operation on which, I may say, the entire navigation system of the Tardis could depend, to invite me to a children's fun fair?
BRIGADIER: I'm very sorry if I've come at a bad time, Doctor, but I really do need your advice. Scotland Yard have been on to UNIT. A body has been found not so far away from the perimeter fence, brutally attacked. Belly ripped open.
SARAH: Oh, no.
BRIGADIER: Forgive me, Miss Smith, but those are the facts.
DOCTOR: I'm very sorry to hear it, but I still can't see how it concerns me personally.
BRIGADIER: Well, you see, the Home Office has turned the investigation over to UNIT. To me, in point of fact.
DOCTOR: Then may I suggest that you do a little investigating? Goodbye, Brigadier.
BRIGADIER: That's where I must have your help. I have to get stuck in straight away, before the press arrive. Ask a few questions, that sort of thing.
DOCTOR: Well, ask Miss Smith to hold your hand, then. She's very good at asking questions. If there were any sign that this unfortunate affair was anything more than a peculiarly horrible murder, then of course I
BRIGADIER: That's just it. That's exactly why UNIT is involved. The pathologist says that the man's injuries were consistent with an attack by a large animal, but one of unbelievable strength. Apparently, the thigh bone had been bitten clean through.
DOCTOR: There isn't a creature on Earth capable of doing that.
BRIGADIER: Precisely. He said it looked as if the man had been savaged by a
BRIGADIER: Well, it sounds absurd, but the way he put it, by a six foot sabre-toothed rottweiler.

TANNOY: One, two, testing, testing, one, two, three, four.
GREBBER: We got to tell them the truth.
FREETH: The truth?
GREBBER: Well, not the truth as such, I suppose, but say it was an accident or something.
FREETH: We shall do nothing of the kind.
GREBBER: Now listen to me, Mister Freeth. I didn't bargain for
FREETH: You'd be better advised to listen to me. Mister Grebber, I shall be forever in your debt for the excellent job your people have done on the site, but you're playing with the big boys now.
GREBBER: That's all very fine
FREETH: You saw last night how my esteemed colleague Mister Tragan, ah, gets his kicks. If I should drop the least little smidgeon of a hint, and I do assure you it would hurt me more than perhaps it would er. Well, no, perhaps not. But there, business is business. I have my shareholders to think of.
GREBBER: You, you wouldn't dare.
FREETH: Oh, we're playing dare now, are we? What fun. Go on, then, Try me.
(Knock on the door.)
FREETH: Now's your chance. Here they come.

SARAH: But I must have a photographer.
CLORINDA [on phone]: I tell you I haven't got one. They're all on assignment.
SARAH: But I must have one. I simply must.
CLORINDA [on phone]: How is it, Sarah Jane dear, that it's always must with you.
(Tapping on a door.)
GREBBER [OC]:You laying eggs in there?
SARAH: Look, what's the use of employing the finest investigative journalist in the business
CLORINDA [on phone]: Pause for hollow laughter.
SARAH: Oh, Clorinda. I can find out how they work those wretched monsters. You can run a Metropolitan reveals all on it. But let's face it, it'll be a bit naff without any pics! Oh, come on. Oh, I've run out of money.
CLORINDA [on phone]: Okay, you win. I'll do my best. But I
(Brrrrrr as the payphone cuts off.)
GREBBER: About time, too.
SARAH: Why didn't I go in for shovelling horse manure like my dear papa wanted.

TRAGAN: Now listen to me, Brigadier whatever your name is. We've told you all we know and that's nothing at all, right?
BRIGADIER: Just routine. And my name is Lethbridge Stewart.
TRAGAN: See, this is ridiculous, badgering Mister Freeth in this way. We can all vouch for each other and that's the end of it.
DOCTOR: Ex-policeman, Mister Tragan?
DOCTOR: Yeah, I thought as much. Similar characteristics the world over. One might almost say universally?
FREETH: Mister Tragan is now our Vice-Chairman in charge of our Entertainments Division.
DOCTOR: Ah. I see.
TRAGAN: What exactly do you see, Doctor?
DOCTOR: Quite a lot, Mister Tragan. You'd be surprised. Well, Brigadier, I think that covers everything for the moment. Thank you again for your help, Mister Freeth. We shall meet again.
BRIGADIER: No, no, Mister Kitson, we can see ourselves out, thank you.
(Door closes.)
KITSON: They're on to us. That Doctor guy, he knows. He knows, I tell you.
TRAGAN: Quiet. They'll hear you.

BRIGADIER: Out with it, then.
DOCTOR: Out with what?
BRIGADIER: Well, you obviously noticed something about that shower that I missed.
DOCTOR: Not a bit of it.
BRIGADIER: But all those cracks.
DOCTOR: Cracks?
BRIGADIER: Well, universally, stuff like that. I thought you'd spotted that they'd all got Martian socks on, or whatever.
DOCTOR: Yes, that's what I hoped they would think. Now, you brought me here to find out if there's an alien dimension to this murder. Well, if there is, and our friends are involved, they'll be quite worried now. And a worried man is a careless man, Brigadier.
BRIGADIER: Mmm, clever stuff. Ah, Miss Smith. We meet again. Are you going to join us on this guided tour affair due to start in a couple of jiffs?
SARAH: Yes, I'd love to. I'm just waiting for the magazine's photographer. My editor said. Oh, no.
BRIGADIER: What's up?
SARAH: Jeremy, over here.
JEREMY: Sarah. Thank goodness I found you. All these people.
(He's a posh lad, bit of a Bertie Wooster IMHO.)
SARAH: But you're not a photographer.
JEREMY: Ah, well, you see, I've got a message from Clorinda about that. Er, she said she'd do her best and so she's sent me and you're not to laugh. Don't quite know what she meant.
SARAH: No, I feel more like crying. You don't know anything about taking photos.
JEREMY: No, no, you're going to do all that stuff. Clorinda sent her own camera, and if a monster eats it we're both sacked.
(Sounds of throat clearing.)
SARAH: Sorry, I'm sorry. Doctor, Brigadier, may I introduce Jeremy Fitzoliver. Brigadier Lethbridge Stewart and the Doctor.
TANNOY: Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please.
BRIGADIER: Better get over there.

FREETH: And afterwards, I hope that you will join us for a wee snifter and some munchies in the Space Restaurant at the top of the Apollo moon rocket. Now I know you'll be simply panting to get at all the wonders we have for you, so over to my friend and colleague, Marak Kitson.
SARAH: Marak? What sort of a name is that?
DOCTOR: You may well ask.
KITSON: Thank you, Mister Freeth. Well now, we'll start with a look at our little menagerie of creatures from outer space, beginning with the crab-clawed Kamelius from the deserts of Aldebaran Two. Let's go in.
FREETH: Come along, ladies and gentlemen.
KITSON: Oh, just one thing. Although every precaution has been taken, I should point out that all these creatures are killers. Keep on the right side of the barriers, make no sudden moves or loud noises.
(General laughter)
KITSON: And, of course, no cameras are allowed.
SARAH: Oh, great.
KITSON: Don't worry, ladies and gentlemen, you'll all be given a handsome pack of shots in the hospitality room at lunchtime.
KITSON: Ladies and gentlemen, the crab-clawed Kamelius.
BRIGADIER: Good grief!
JEREMY: I say.
BRIGADIER: It's a real animal! It's the real thing!
DOCTOR: Have you ever seen a clawed Kamelius before, Brigadier?
BRIGADIER: Of course not.
DOCTOR: No, and you're not seeing one now.
SARAH: Well, I wouldn't like to meet him up a dark alley.
DOCTOR: Where did you say this creature comes from, Mister Kitson?
KITSON: It lives in the deserts of Aldebaran Two, a small planet about the size of Venus.
DOCTOR: Hmm. About sixty eight light years away, if I'm not mistaken.
KITSON: That is correct.
DOCTOR: Well then, would you be so good as to explain how you managed to persuade it to come to Hampstead Heath?
KITSON: That, Doctor, would be telling.
KITSON: The normal diet of the Kamelius is a creeping land mollusc with a carapace as thick as a tortoise's, which explains the claws. Though I don't suppose he'd object to a morsel of ready-shelled journalist.
(More laughter.A moment later, not so merry noises.)
KITSON: The stench of putrefaction coming from the Stink Sloth's pit is due, I'm afraid, to his habit of storing the decomposing corpses of the giant slugs that he likes for breakfast in his sleeping void. Ah, there he is, coming out of his hole, and er, he's eating one now.
SARAH: Come along, Jeremy.
JEREMY: Can't take it, eh?
SARAH: Oh, don't be so silly. Come on.
KITSON: Not perhaps a candidate for best house pet of the year. And now if you'd like to come this way
JEREMY: It's a super show, isn't it?
SARAH: Get a move on.
JEREMY: Where are we going?
SARAH: I need you to keep watch. I'm going to get a candid camera shot of that Kamelius thing.

FREETH: Ah, Tragan. Where is Grebber?
TRAGAN: Well, I thought he was with you.
FREETH: I've been thinking. In the circumstances, I don't like the idea of his running around loose. He could be a problem.
TRAGAN: Agreed. I'll find him. Maybe the problem needs a solution. A terminal one.
FREETH: You'd enjoy that, wouldn't you, you wicked old Tragan, you. Hoo, hoo, hoo.
TRAGAN: How well you know me, Chairman.

(The sound of a self-winding camera taking several rapid images.)
SARAH: Oh, that's it, sweetheart. Look this way.
(More snaps.)
SARAH: Lovely, lovely. Come towards me. Oh, come on. I won't bite. That's my boy.
(Snaps and roars.)
JEREMY: Sarah, cave. (pronounced kay vee) There's someone coming.
SARAH: Pretend to be dim-witted.
SARAH: On second thoughts, stay as sweet as you are. Hi there! Er, we're having a bit of a look round.
GREBBER: You's the ones with the Doctor geezer, ain'cha? I saw you through the window.
SARAH: Ah, yes, that's right.
GREBBER: I got to see him, pronto. Where is he?
SARAH: Well, I think he must have gone to the moon walk by now, if he's still with them.
GREBBER: You're a doll. Look, if you catch up with him before I do, will you give him a message for me?
SARAH: Course.
GREBBER: Tell him I lied this morning. Tell him
TRAGAN: Ah, Mister Grebber. I've been looking all over for you. Mister Freeth would like a word.
GREBBER: Yeah. Yeah, sure.
TRAGAN: Can I be of any assistance?
SARAH: Well, we're a bit lost, actually. Got here late, you see. We don't seem to be able to locate the main party.
SARAH: Elizabeth Regina?
TRAGAN: The Experienced Reality pavilion is just beyond the moon walk over there.
SARAH: Oh, thanks. Yes. Come on, Jeremy.
JEREMY: But I wasn't late. I even took a taxi.
SARAH: Oh, Jeremy!

BRIGADIER: What do you think, Doctor?
DOCTOR: They should make a lot of money.
BRIGADIER: Yes, but what do you think?
KITSON: Experienced Reality. It may look more like a restroom to you, but these luxuriant, ergonomically perfect couches can offer you an experience which will blow your mind. Like to go skiing? Can't ski? Oh yes, you can. You can ski as well as next year's Olympic champion. Skin diving, wind surfing, hang gliding, you name it. And not just on a hi-fi telly screen. I'm talking about a real experience. A leisure experience beyond your wildest dreams.
SCOT: Know what I dream about when I'm on my luxuriant couch?
KITSON: Well, sir, although it wouldn't be appropriate to offer such delights to the general public, the technology is there.
SCOT: Do you mean to say
KITSON: An opera lover, perhaps? You can not only be present at the first night of Traviata at La Scala Milan, but if you wish, you can experience the joy of singing the lead role yourself. Of being the star. A boxing fan? You can choose to take on any
SCOT: All very fine and dandy, but why don't you let us have a go?
KITSON: Why not, indeed. If you care to take your places on the couches, put on the light-weight headsets and choose a channel on the small control panel on the arm. I'm afraid there are not quite enough places for all of you, so if you would be good enough to take it in turn.
DOCTOR: Go ahead, Brigadier.
BRIGADIER: Oh, no, no. You ought to go first.
DOCTOR: It's very noble of you. It'll only be a more sophisticated form of virtual reality. Have a go.
(Electronics, then sounds of happy people.)
BRIGADIER: Well now, what shall I try? How about a day at the races? Good grief! I'm there. I'm really there.
(Sounds of book makers shouting the odds in the background, footsteps crunching on gravel.)
DOCTOR: Not a computer model?
BRIGADIER: No, no. I tell you, I'm really there. I'm walking down towards the paddock. It's, it's Epsom. I know it well. I can feel the wind on my face and by crikey, I can smell the horses. I'm there.
DOCTOR: Try turning round, and walking back the way you came.
BRIGADIER: Well frankly, I don't want to. I'm quite happy as I am.
DOCTOR: Scientific experiment, Lethbridge Stewart. Remember why we're here.
BRIGADIER: Oh, very well. No, I can't. I'm still walking down to the parade of runners.
DOCTOR: Try harder.
BRIGADIER: Mmm. It's no good. I'm leaning on the rail now, looking at the horses. But it doesn't matter, do you see? That's what I want to do.
DOCTOR: That's what the programme wants you to do.
DOCTOR: Oh, never mind. May I change the channel for you?
BRIGADIER: Well, if you must, but I must say that I really
(Electronic. Sound of lapping waves, and children playing.)
BRIGADIER: It's like hitting an air pocket. I seem to have landed on some beach somewhere. Lord knows where. Pretty darned hot. Strong smell of flowers. Good heavens above!
DOCTOR: What is it?
BRIGADIER: Those aren't my legs. Those are not my legs.
DOCTOR: You sure?
BRIGADIER: Of course I'm sure. Since when have I ever painted my toenails pink. Those are female legs, for Pete's sake, and yet they're my legs but they're not, if you see what I mean. Here, you'd better have a go.
SARAH: Oh, Doctor.
BRIGADIER: Ah, Miss Smith. Come and have a go at this. Just the thing for your paper. Incredible!
SARAH: No, no, I. Can you come outside a mo?

FREETH: He doesn't look at all well, Tragan. Decidedly peaky. He's not dead already?
TRAGAN: I know what I'm doing. The transmitter needles are a little larger than usual, that's all. His system will soon recover.

DOCTOR: And that's all he said?
SARAH: Well, it was all he had time for.
BRIGADIER: What was he like, this fellow?
JEREMY: Bit of an oik, actually.
SARAH: Oh, Jeremy. He was a Londoner, that's all. Sort of Cockney accent.
BRIGADIER: Grebber, by Jove.
DOCTOR: Obviously. Thank you, Sarah. Now, we must try and have a word with Mister Grebber. He might be most helpful.
JEREMY: Well, I thought he was an oik.
DOCTOR: Yeah. Well, this merely confirms what I feel about this place. It could pose a real threat. There's danger here.
BRIGADIER: What, do you mean the monsters?
DOCTOR: No, no, no, no, no. I'm pretty sure that none of those creatures could harm a fly.
SARAH: But the Kamelius?
DOCTOR: Yes, well, if I'm right, you'd be safer with them than in a field of new born lambs. No, it's this place I'm talking about. This ER, this Experienced Reality.
BRIGADIER: Nonsense. Great fun. Wouldn't mind having another go.
DOCTOR: Exactly. And another, and another, until you're as hooked on ER as a junkie is on heroin.
BRIGADIER: Oh, come on, Doctor. You must be having us on. It's just one up from the telly, that's all.
DOCTOR: And how many people are there who have to have their nightly fix of their favourite soap operas, hmm? Look, that's not what I'm talking about. Now think, man, think. Think how it must work.
BRIGADIER: I haven't the foggiest. How does it work?
DOCTOR: Well, at first I thought it must be a subtle form of suggestion. A type of electronic hypnotism which merely provided a seed of experience which your own brain expanded. But two things gave me the clue. Firstly, the way the programme went on its own way no matter how much you tried to change it, and secondly, your painted toenails.
SARAH: Painted toenails? Wow! Brigadier.
JEREMY: I say.
BRIGADIER: Yes, well, we won't go into that.
DOCTOR: Oh yes, we will. Don't you see? Somebody had those experiences. Somebody went to Epsom races with a sensory transmitter implanted in his brain. Every sense impression of the woman on the beach was transmitted to a polygraph recorder. And those sense impressions were reproduced in the Brigadier's brain, even down to the scent of the flowers.
BRIGADIER: Bougainvillea. I knew I'd smelt it before. Must have been the Caribbean.
SARAH: But how can you say it's dangerous? It sounds great.
JEREMY: Yah. Absolutely whizzo wicked.
DOCTOR: The programme took charge of the Brigadier's emotions. He wanted to go where he was being taken.
BRIGADIER: Oh, not entirely.
DOCTOR: Well, for all practical purposes, yes. But it's even worse than that. If these people, wherever they come from, have the technology to transmit brain signals and to influence the receiver's will, they have the means to control a country. To control a world.

TRAGAN: Wake up, Mister Grebber.
FREETH: You'd better hide the implantation gun.
TRAGAN: It hardly matters if he sees it now, does it? Come on, open your eyes.
(Tragan slaps Grebber's face.)
GREBBER: Where am I? What happened?
TRAGAN: You passed out, that's all.
GREBBER: Eh? I never fainted in my life.
FREETH: You'd better be getting home, Grebber.
GREBBER: Home? But you. I thought. I don't seem to be able to remember.
FREETH: And if you don't feel better in the morning, you'd better go and see your doctor.
TRAGAN: Good advice, Mister Grebber.
GREBBER: Yeah. Yeah, I think, I think I'll
(Door closes.)
FREETH: I hope you do know what you're doing. The headset is larger than the normal ER type, too.
TRAGAN: Well, of course. I'm transmitting as well as receiving. Ah! Got him.
FREETH: What's he doing?
TRAGAN: He's hurrying towards the main gate. I've stopped him. I'm turning, and I'm making for the Apollo tower.
FREETH: Goodbye, Grebber.

SARAH: Mmm, smoked salmon. They're doing us proud.
JEREMY: I'm bored with smoked salmon. Every party you go to
SARAH: Oh, listen to the deb's delight. Think yourself lucky it's not a pickled onion on a toothpick. Oh, where's the Doctor got to?
JEREMY: Up in the observation room at the top of the tower, I think, with the Brigadier.

DOCTOR: All the circumstantial evidence points to their having come from the other side of the galaxy, so why should they
BRIGADIER: What? What evidence do you mean?
DOCTOR: Those creatures. The extremely advanced brain technology,
BRIGADIER: But you said the monsters were fakes. You said that they
DOCTOR: I said no such thing, Brigadier. It's the names that are fakes. Kamelius, Ostroid. I'm surprised they didn't show us a two-trunked elephantarsis from the planet Junglen.
BRIGADIER: Planet Junglen? Where's that?
DOCTOR: I don't know, I just make it up.
BRIGADIER: Oh! I see what you mean, yes.
DOCTOR: So I think it must be true that they know more about the murder than they pretend. I'm looking forward to having another word with our friend Grebber.
SARAH: Doctor, look. Out there on the scaffolding.
BRIGADIER: Good grief. It's Grebber!
DOCTOR: He looks as if he's going to jump! Quick, do these ports open?
BRIGADIER: Never. I'll get Kitson.
SARAH: Doctor, where are you going?
DOCTOR: Get him to turn round. Try to keep his attention.
SARAH: Oh, right. Mister Grebber?
(She knocks on the porthole glass.)
SARAH: Mister Grebber? Over here!
BRIGADIER: And you'd better get the fire brigade with a high rise ladder.
KITSON: Right.
THOMPSON [OC]: Security. Thompson here.
KITSON: Emergency, Apollo tower. There's a man on the scaffolding.
SARAH: Please, Mister Grebber, please turn round! Mister Grebber! Oh! No!
BRIGADIER: What's going on?
SARAH: The Doctor, he's out there with Mister Grebber!

(High altitude wind whistling. Grebber is frightened.)
DOCTOR: No, don't look down. That's the way. Now just hold on tight. Look at me, Mister Grebber. Look at me. That's it. We'll soon have you safe.
GREBBER: I wanted to finish it all. I don't know why I. Help me!
DOCTOR: Now just hold on. Help's on its way. Now just hang on tight.
GREBBER: I can't much longer. I shall fall. Help me, please.
DOCTOR: Yes, all right. Stay there. Stay there. I'll come to you. Now, give me your hand. Come on, give me your hand. You can do it. Hold tight with your left hand. There. Now reach out with your right. Now, take my hand. That's the way. I've got you.
TRAGAN + GREBBER: I'm sorry, Doctor. I'm sorry. I just can't help myself.
DOCTOR: What are you doing, man? What are you doing? You'll have us both over!
TRAGAN + GREBBER: I'm sorry. Argh!

FREETH: Tragan. Are you all right?
TRAGAN: Yes, yes, I'm fine. I stayed with him too long, that's all. I couldn't resist it. The sheer mortal terror of the man. It was ecstasy, Freeth. I tell you, utter ecstasy.
FREETH: Oh, delicious.
TRAGAN: And we've been given a bonus. We shan't have any more trouble from that meddling Doctor. He came over with me. The Doctor's dead!


(An emergency vehicle screeches to a halt.)
BRIGADIER: Stand back! Stand back! No, no, don't move him. Don't move either of them.
SARAH: Is he? Is he?
BRIGADIER: Grebber's broken his neck.
SARAH: But the Doctor?
BRIGADIER: It'd be a miracle for anybody to survive a fall from that height.
AMBULANCE MAN: Make way, please. Mind your backs. What happened?
BRIGADIER: They both fell from the top of the lift scaffolding. Must be two hundred feet. The roof at the entry port broke their fall but this fellow's a goner, no doubt of that.
AMBULANCE MAN: Yeah, we got a call that some guy was threatening to jump. I'm afraid this one's gone too.
SARAH: Oh no!
AMBULANCE MAN: Sorry, love. That's the way it is. The doc'll have to confirm it, but I'm afraid there's no doubt. Okay, Trev.
TREVOR: Right-o.
SARAH: But the Doctor, he
BRIGADIER: I'm sorry, Miss Smith. Sarah Jane. We just have to face it. The Doctor is dead.

FREETH: And you're quite sure?
KITSON [on phone]: They've both been taken to the mortuary.
FREETH: A dreadful tragedy. Exactly what we wanted.
KITSON [on phone]: It was on the news. There's a crowd outside like Trafalgar Square on New Year's Eve. They'll have the gate down if I don't let them in soon.
FREETH: Are your people ready?
KITSON [on phone]: As ready as they'll ever be.
FREETH: Then let them in, dear boy. Let them in.

(Outside, sounds of voices in the distance.)
FREETH: My dear Brigadier. I cannot begin to tell you how devastated we are. Aren't we, Tragan?
TRAGAN: Devastated.
FREETH: How can we express the way we
BRIGADIER: Yes, well, kind of you, but er, be that as it may, I'm here on official business. I have to ask you to cancel the opening of Space World this afternoon.
FREETH: Do you indeed? And I have to tell you that I have no intention of complying. You're too late anyway.
(The main gates are being opened.)
FREETH: If you listen, you'll no doubt be able to hear the baying of the great British public bent on pleasuring itself. Or is that the phrase I'm after?
BRIGADIER: Well, we shall have to clear them all out, then. As Officer Commanding the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce in the UK, I'm empowered under the treaty to
FREETH: Ah, but there are so many forms of power, aren't there? Before you get stuck in the political mire of exactly who has the power to do what, and to whom, I would strongly advise you read this letter. It hurts the pride, doesn't it, falling flat on one's face. Never mind. I'm sure mummy will kiss it better.

(Sounds of people having a whale of a time, whooping and hollering.)
BRIGADIER: But General, it was a letter from the Prime Minister, not just from his office. A personal letter guaranteeing him and his precious corporation freedom from any interference of any kind whatsoever.
GENERAL [on phone]: (slightly German accent) Hmm. Very frustrating. But what do you expect me to do about it?
BRIGADIER: Surely, sir, the commanding officer of the whole of UNIT could override
GENERAL [on phone]: Listen to me, Brigadier. We are bound by the United Nations treaty. Remember the host country clause? Here in Geneva we get this sort of thing coming in every day.
BRIGADIER: I see. Would you have any objection if I went over your head to New York?
GENERAL [on phone]: To the Secretary General? Well, you could try, I suppose. I don't hold out much hope.

JEREMY: Did you know him well?
SARAH: Not all that well. But he was a good man, and a brave one. It's silly, I know, but I feel as though I've lost my best friend.
JEREMY: I don't think it's silly at all.
SARAH: Oh, you're very sweet, Jeremy. Oh, this is no good. Life must go on. He'd want it to. We'd better get back to the office and get these pics developed.
JEREMY: Oh look, there's that Brigadier chap.
SARAH: Where?
JEREMY: There. Sitting in that little old car. The yellow one. Talking on the phone.
SARAH: Ah, that's the Doctor's car. He calls. He used to call her Bessie.

BRIGADIER: But Secretary General!
(The UN Secretary General is a woman with a French accent.)
UN SEC GEN: To the contrary, you would be well advised to butter up Mister Freeth's feathers, as the saying goes. It is of the utmost imperative that he is not to be made upset.
BRIGADIER: But if the Parakon Corporation
UN SEC GEN: Understand me clear, Brigadier Lethbridge Stewart. You will be held personally responsible if, through any action of yours, there are any hitches in these delicate negotiations.
BRIGADIER: But what negotiations?
UN SEC GEN: I have said quite too much already. Goodbye.
(She slams her phone down and the Brigadier get the dialling tone.)

(In the background, someone is using a typewriter.)
CLORINDA: No, Sarah, it's all rubbish. I mean, Atlantis, alien monsters. I'm not the editor of a Sunday tabloid.
SARAH: Of course you're not. You're the dearest, cleverest, sweetest, loveliest editor of the best glossy on the market.
CLORINDA: You noticed.
SARAH: Why, it'd be a sort of tribute to the unknown genius in our midst. Who was this man? All that stuff. And shots of the crab-clawed Kamelius to sauce it up a bit.
JEREMY: But there aren't any.
SARAH: What?
JEREMY: There aren't any shots of the crab-clawed whatsit. I just got them back from Anthony. Here. Waste of a film, he says.
CLORINDA: Let me have a look.
SARAH: There' s nothing to look at. Just shots of an empty space. You can see the wooden walls and that's the lot. The Brigadier needs to know about this. He should be back at UNIT HQ by now. May I use your phone, Clorinda?
CLORINDA: Be my guest.

WILLOW: There. Not much doubt how Mister Grebber bought his exit pass. Next gentleman please, Mister Wilkins.
BRIGADIER: They told me that you. Oh, are you Doctor Willow?
WILKINS: It's Professor Willow.
BRIGADIER: Oh, I'm sorry. My name's Lethbridge Stewart, Professor.
WILLOW: Oh. Yes, of course. You're in charge of the er. How'd you do. Well, I was just about to have a look at the
BRIGADIER: The Doctor. Yes, that's why I've come. It suddenly crossed my mind that er
WILLOW: That's odd.
BRIGADIER: What is it?
WILLOW: Wilkins, you must have made a mistake. This man hasn't fallen from two hundred feet.
BRIGADIER: He certainly did. I saw him fall.
WILLOW: There doesn't appear to be a single bone broken.
BRIGADIER: Ah. Well, that's just it, you see.
WILLOW: Clearly as dead as last Sunday's joint, though. We'd better take a look at his innards.
WILLOW: Not squeamish, are you, Brigadier?
BRIGADIER: No, no, of course not. It's just that I happen to know the Doctor, and, well, it's just possible that. Well, there was at least one other occasion when
WILLOW: If you're suggesting that there's the remotest chance of reviving this man, spontaneous remission of death is somewhat rare in my (gasp). Good grief!
WILKINS: Oh, my god.
BRIGADIER: There you are, you see?
DOCTOR: Look, would you mind taking that scalpel a little further away from my abdomen? You'll do me a mischief in a minute. Thank you.
WILLOW: But you're. I mean, you were
DOCTOR: Dead? Well, was I? Yes, well, clearly I'm not now. Ah, Lethbridge Stewart. Look, would you be so good as to find my clothes, old chap? It's a trifle parky without them.

(That typewriter again.)
SARAH: Ah. Well, thank you for trying. Oh, er, do you think you give get me that other number? The phone in Bessie. I'm sorry, in the Doctor's car. Yes? Yes. Thank you very much.
(She puts the phone down.)
SARAH: See you later.
CLORINDA: Where are you going?
SARAH: Back to Space World, of course. I'm going to find out what exactly is going on.
JEREMY: Can I come too?
SARAH: Oh, Jeremy.
JEREMY: I'm awfully good at keeping watch.

DOCTOR: My dear Brigadier, it's just a simple matter of bone relaxation. If you should find yourself falling from a great height, bone relaxation can help you
WILLOW: But that's physiological rubbish.
DOCTOR: Yes, well of course it is. I was using shorthand. More strictly speaking, it is analogous to the breakdown and regeneration of viable tissue in the formation of a pupae.
WILLOW: I still say
DOCTOR: I'm sorry
BRIGADIER: Oh, this is Professor Willow. The Doctor.
DOCTOR: Professor Mortimer Willow, who wrote that paper on the post mortem agglutination of red blood cells in victims of carbon monoxide asphyxiation?
WILLOW: The same.
DOCTOR: Oh, I'm very pleased to meet you, sir. An excellent piece of work.
WILLOW: Thank you. I quite agree.
BRIGADIER: What's more to the point, Doctor, is that it was Professor Willow who wrote the post mortem report on the victim of the attack on Hampstead Heath.
DOCTOR: Of course. And you have the body here?
WILKINS: Yeah. You were in the fridge with him.
DOCTOR: Any chance of a quick glance?
WILLOW: With the greatest of pleasure. Well, don't just stand there, Wilkins.
WILKINS: Sorry, Prof.
WILLOW: Now, as I said, the case presents some very strange features. You can see for yourself. The marks of the teeth and the tearing of the flesh are extremely atypical.
DOCTOR: To say the least.
WILLOW: What's more, since the initial report, I've found even more reason for puzzlement. I have analysed the traces of the saliva on the deceased's clothes, what was left of them, and of all things it turns out to be acidic.
DOCTOR: Acidic? Then that settles it. The creature who perpetrated this horror is not of this planet. Thank you, Mister Wilkins. I think we've seen plenty. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. wait. Look.
DOCTOR: There's a hair.
WILLOW: Where?
DOCTOR: There, man, there. As plain as the nose on your face. Under the nail of the first digit of the left hand.
WILLOW: I examined the nails.
DOCTOR: It's nearly a millimetre in length. I can't think how you came to miss it. Well, don't just stand there, get me a microscope slide. Got it. Now then, microscope. Microscope!
WILLOW: Wilkins.
DOCTOR: Yes, yes, yes. Ah ha!
WILLOW: What is it?
DOCTOR: Take a look for yourself.
WILLOW: Thank you. Hmm. Well, well, well.
DOCTOR: What can you see?
WILLOW: This did not come from a mammal. And if he wasn't attacked by a mammal, what in heaven's name did attack him?

FREETH: You are wrong, Tragan.
TRAGAN: I think not, Chairman.
FREETH: It's far better if you return to Parakon forthwith and take Fido and Fifi with you. The sooner you go, the sooner we are safe.
TRAGAN: I should still feel happier
FREETH: The only person who might have posed a threat has been dealt with. The Doctor is dead.
(Door opens)
DOCTOR: Forgive us for barging in unannounced
TRAGAN: Doctor!
DOCTOR: But your secretary seems to have gone home for the evening.
FREETH: Doctor. But we were told
DOCTOR: Yeah. Well, you shouldn't believe everything that you hear, Mister Freeth. Now, we'd like to have a little chat.
FREETH: Nothing would give me greater pleasure. Mister Tragan, it might be as well if you put those arrangements we were discussing in hand straight away.
TRAGAN: Yes, of course, Mister Freeth.
BRIGADIER: You're not going far, I hope.
TRAGAN: Relatively speaking, no. If you will excuse me, gentlemen.
(Door shuts.)
FREETH: I gather you've been having a little chat with an old friend of mine, Brigadier, in New York.
BRIGADIER: Er, yes. That's right.
FREETH: You'll no doubt be gratified to hear that your attempt to go to the top of the tree has borne fruit. I am, so to speak, a peach ripe for the plucking.
FREETH: We have agreed that I should keep no more secrets from you. In her words, that I should come clean as the driven snow. I'm sure you recognise the style. So, what do you want to know?

TANNOY: Space World will be closing in five minutes time. Thank you for visiting us. Space World will be closing in five minutes time.
(Animals roar and gibber. Jeremy makes a strange noise too.)
SARAH: Jeremy, get your head down. They'll see you.
JEREMY: I've got pins and needles. Oh, it's all right, there's nobody in here. They've all gone. I say. That old Kamelius thing is lying down, sort of chewing like a cow. Oh!
SARAH: What?
JEREMY: Shush.
KITSON: Anybody here? Okay, Bill, Kamelius is clear.
(Clunk. Silence. The door closes.)
JEREMY: He's gone. Good lord.
SARAH: What is it? Oh, well, well, well.
JEREMY: It's all gone. Desert and all.
SARAH: Switched off. They've just switched him off. No wonder he didn't come out on the film.

FREETH: A non-mammalian hair. So, are you suggesting that one of our little monsters from outer space escaped from Space World last night and did the naughties? Well, since we're playing the truth game, let me tell you something.
DOCTOR: Yes, well, I'll save you the trouble. The creatures in your exhibits are mere hallucinations. A more complex version of Experienced Reality induced in the audience's brains by a radiated matrix of modulated psychomagnetic beams.
FREETH: My, my, aren't we the clever clogs. I hate to admit it, but you have it exactly right. It's all an illusion.
BRIGADIER: Good heavens above. I'd have sworn that I
FREETH: If you tried to touch one of our little family, you hand would go right through it. So how could one of them have harmed that poor fellow?
DOCTOR: Yes, well, you're missing the point, Mister Freeth. If those animals are a form of ER, then the experience of them has been recorded. They're all images of real creatures. I recognised your so-called crab-clawed Kamelius as soon as I saw it.
FREETH: You recognised it? Who are you, Doctor?
DOCTOR: Somebody who spent a long weekend on Aldebaran Two a few years ago. Too long a weekend. The food was disgusting.
FREETH: (laughing) Yes, it is, isn't it. How many recipes are there for cactus pulp?
DOCTOR: You're not from Earth at all, are you? You come from the other side of the galaxy.
FREETH: It's a fair cop. I'll go quietly.
BRIGADIER: You mean that you admit
FREETH: No, no, no. I was speaking metaphorically. A bad habit of mine. I have no idea how that poor young man died. I was merely agreeing that I and my friends are, so to speak, an ethnic minority on this planet. Let me bare my breast and tell you all, as I promised. Then you'll be in a better position to make a judgment.

JEREMY: But why are we checking them all? If one monster's a fake, they all will be.
SARAH: Second rule of investigative journalism, Jeremy. Never take anything for granted. Mmm hmm, the flesh-eating Gryphon seems to have gone home for his tea as well.
JEREMY: What's the first rule?
JEREMY: Of investigative journalism.
SARAH: Oh. Get your expenses sorted out. Oh, come on. Let's go and have a look at the spaceships.

FREETH: So you see, there's nothing more sinister going on than an ordinary commercial venture. We have been secretly negotiating with your leaders for some time.
BRIGADIER: Secret negotiations?
(A clink of glass and liquid being poured.)
BRIGADIER: About a fun fair?
DOCTOR: Is er, is that good Scotch, Lethbridge Stewart?
BRIGADIER: What? Yeah. Best drop of malt I've tasted since my grandfather died.
DOCTOR: Hmm. And this sherry can only be described as noble. Mister Freeth wants to get us on his side.
FREETH: I said you were a clever clogs, Doctor.
DOCTOR: He knows how wary the human tribe is of foreigners. What sort of a welcome do you think a gang of alien carpet-baggers from outer space would get?
FREETH: Not quite the expression I might have used myself, but fundamentally, Doctor, you've hit it on the button. Or even the nose. Our proposals can only be of benefit to the economy of your world. A valuable new export market for a new product, cheap imports of every kind, the benefit of advanced technologies which can offer a life of ease and luxury to the vast majority of your people. We have a paradise of our own on Parakon. We want you to share it.
BRIGADIER: So, you plan to get the public on your side before it's revealed that you come from outside the solar system. Give them a spoonful of honey to help the pill go down?
DOCTOR: Well done, Brigadier.
FREETH: Exactly right. Except that in this case, it'll turn out to be honey, honey, honey.

JEREMY: Sarah?
SARAH: What?
JEREMY: I still don't understand why we're looking inside all these spaceship ride thingys. They never pretended that they were anything but simulations all the time.
SARAH: That's right, but we didn't see inside all of them, did we? Perhaps they're using one of them as a kennel?
JEREMY: Shush. Someone coming.
TRAGAN: And return at once to be ready to pick up Chairman Freeth. He may need to leave in a hurry.
CRESTIN: Yes, Vice Chairman Tragan.
SARAH: It's that one who took Mister Grebber away. I'm going to follow him.
JEREMY: They're stopping.
TRAGAN: And do we have to feed the guards before we go? You know what they can be like if they're hungry.
(Something hisses.)
CRESTIN: Couldn't find much, but they've had two cats apiece, a labrador and a cocker spaniel. They're quite satisfied.
TRAGAN: They don't sound very satisfied to me.
JEREMY: Oh, I say. The rotten lot.
SARAH: What did I tell you? Here, take this.
JEREMY: What is it?
SARAH: I wrote down the Brig's phone numbers. Go and ring him. Get him here. I'm going in to have a look.

DOCTOR: Ordinary commercial venture, my eye. There's a great deal more to it than that, Brigadier, you may be sure.
BRIGADIER: What, do you mean this PR idea? Softening up the public and all that?
(They drive away.)
DOCTOR: Yes, exactly. It's the same as throwing maggots into the river to attract the poor fish you hope to have for dinner.
BRIGADIER: Your choice of metaphor is hardly flattering.
DOCTOR: It wasn't intended to be.
(The car phone trills.)
BRIGADIER: Lethbridge Stewart.
JEREMY [on phone]: Ah, it's Jeremy Fitzoliver. Sarah Jane Smith asked me to ring. It's sort of urgent, really. Well, I mean, a bit.
BRIGADIER: Well, what's up?
JEREMY [on phone]: We've found those dog thingys that killed that man. At least, we think we have. Sarah's gone into their kennel. I mean
BRIGADIER: Where are you?
JEREMY [on phone]: Oh, just across the road from it. I can see it from here. I say, the doors are closing.
BRIGADIER: But where are you, man?
JEREMY [on phone]: I said. In the phone box opposite the. Oh, I see what you mean. In that road where all the space rides are. That's it, you see. Sarah's gone into one of them. I can hardly see it now they've closed the door, it's so dark, but. Oh.
BRIGADIER: What is it?
JEREMY [on phone]: It's going up in the air! It's taking off. I mean, it's a real. Oh lor, they've gone! They've gone off with Sarah Jane!

TRAGAN: Crestin.
CRESTIN [OC]: Yes, Vice Chairman Tragan?
TRAGAN: Warn me when you're about to make the jump into hyper.
CRESTIN [OC]: Will do. You've quite a while yet. We have to clear the solar system first.
TRAGAN: Very good.
(He turns off the intercom and goes to the guard creatures.)
TRAGAN: Get down! Lie down! Down! That's better. Down. I think you'd better come out now. Yes, you, trying to hide behind the spacesuit rack. Stay! Well, well. It's the journalist girl.
SARAH: I warn you, the Brigadier knows that I'm here.
TRAGAN: Oh, is that so. And where's the Brigadier? Exactly.
(The creatures hiss and rattle their chains.)
SARAH: Would you please put those creatures away?
TRAGAN: By all means. Come on now. Come on! In! In!
CRESTIN [OC]: Vice Chairman Tragan, the weight ratio has changed. We're carrying more than we should. I think we should check before we make the jump.
TRAGAN: Yes, Crestin, we have a stowaway.
CRESTIN [OC]: Is everything all right?
TRAGAN: Thank you, yes. Everything's under control.
SARAH: Where are we going?
TRAGAN: To my home planet, Parakon. And frankly, my dear, to arrive with you as a passenger might prove something of an embarrassment. On the other hand
SARAH: What are you going to do with me?
TRAGAN: Oh, a good question, to which I'm sure I shall find an answer. But in the meantime, we must try to make you comfortable.
SARAH: Oh. Thank you.
TRAGAN: Or would it be more fun to make you uncomfortable.
TRAGAN: You see, although by definition the journey through hyperspace takes no time at all, subjectively it's tediously long.
TRAGAN: I shall be glad to have something to distract me. We must think up some little games. I'm very good at thinking up little games.

DOCTOR: And did you recognise this man she was following?
JEREMY: Well, yes. It was the one Mister Grebber went with.
(Car horns and screech of brakes.)
BRIGADIER: Careful, Doctor. You nearly clipped that one.
DOCTOR: You heard what Jeremy said. Sarah's been abducted by Tragan. It's quite clear to me
(Horns, skids. The Doctor must be driving Bessie.)
DOCTOR: Moron! If you don't know the width of your car, you shouldn't be driving it!
BRIGADIER: For Pete's sake, Doctor, slow down.
DOCTOR: She's in the hands of a ruthless sadist who would stop at nothing. We have to get after her.
BRIGADIER: What? Well, how?
DOCTOR: In the Tardis, of course.

SARAH: But why do you need to tie me up? I can't do you any harm, and I certainly can't escape.
TRAGAN: Indeed. But that wouldn't be half the fun.
SARAH: Fun? Ow.
TRAGAN: You see. Now, that's not too tight. It's all part of the game we're going to play.
SARAH: What game?
TRAGAN: It's called, how far do I have to go before she
SARAH: Before she what?
TRAGAN: Well, that's just it. There are so many variations. How far do I have to go before she begs me for a kiss? Starts screaming? Dies? There, that's it. Quite comfortable? It won't be long now before the hyperjump.

BRIGADIER: What are you doing, Doctor?
DOCTOR: The psychotelemetric circuit. Unless I repair it, we'll never get to Parakon. I mean, we know where the planet is, within a few thousand light years.
BRIGADIER: Oh, do we?
DOCTOR: Yeah, well I do. Sonic screwdriver, please, Jeremy.
JEREMY: Do you mean this?
DOCTOR: Yes. Yes, that's the one, yes. Here, plug in the soldering iron, old chap. We could spend an eternity searching, and the Tardis'll take up to the right neck of the woods then home in on Parakon using this, her psychotelemeter.
BRIGADIER: What's that?
DOCTOR: That is the hair of the dog, to coin a phrase. Or rather, the non-dog. I abstracted it when the Professor wasn't looking. Give me the soldering iron, will you please, Jeremy? Good chap. Look, Brigadier, if you can't find anything useful to do, may I suggest you go and ring Freeth, and try putting the fear of God, or alternatively the United Nations, into him?

SARAH: I don't think you've thought this through, Mister Tragan.
TRAGAN: Really? Do tell me.
SARAH: You said that I would be an embarrassment to you on Parakon. Well, wouldn't a corpse, or, or a, a
TRAGAN: A mouthing white-faced creature scared literally out of her wits?
SARAH: Yes! Wouldn't one of those be even more embarrassing for you?
TRAGAN: This is your first time in space, Miss Smith?
SARAH: No. Yes.
TRAGAN: It's very big, you know, and our garbage disposal system is very efficient. But I do appreciate your concern, believe me.
SARAH: How can you be so inhuman?
TRAGAN: But that's exactly what I am. I'm not remotely human. To be precise, I'm barely humanoid, unlike my friend Chairman Freeth and his compatriots. Would you like to see what my face really looks like underneath this?
(Sound of latex being pulled, and Sarah gasping.)
CRESTIN [OC]: Vice Chairman Tragan.
TRAGAN: Ready when you are, Crestin. I'm more than ready. Eager.
CRESTIN [OC]: No, it's. I've got Chairman Freeth for you.
TRAGAN: Oh. Well, you'd better put him through. Oh, and Crestin?
CRESTIN [OC]: Yes, sir?
TRAGAN: Don't tell him about our guest.
CRESTIN [OC]: I already have. Sorry, sir.
TRAGAN: Never mind. Put him on. No, wait. Ask him to hold on. I shan't keep him a moment.
SARAH: What are you
TRAGAN: I must apologise for cutting you short so impolitely. I'm sure you understand the necessity. Right, Crestin.
FREETH [OC]: What's going on, Tragan? Who have you got there?
TRAGAN: Nobody of consequence, Chairman. A journalist. A professional busybody. Better out of everybody's way.
FREETH [OC]: Is her name Smith? Sarah Jane Smith?
TRAGAN: Why yes, I believe it is. How did you know that?
FREETH [OC]: Let me speak to her.
TRAGAN: I'm afraid she's a little tied up at the moment.
FREETH [OC]: Up to your old tricks, are you? Well, I'm sorry to spoil your fun, but I've just had a call from the Brigadier. He claims to know that you have Miss Smith on board. I denied all knowledge of you and your deliciously disgusting doings, of course, but since we are the goodies at the moment, it might be as well if she were to remain, er, intacta, so to speak.
TRAGAN: She's seen the guards.
FREETH [OC]: Pity. Very well, keep her incommunicado but safe. She's more useful to us alive and well. The situation has changed now that we know the Doctor isn't dead.
TRAGAN: But Chairman, I
FREETH [OC]: You're greedy, Tragan. Do you know that?
TRAGAN: I do. I am.
FREETH [OC]: Don't worry. Once the hue and cry has died down, you can have her back.

BRIGADIER: Oh, can't you get a move on, Doctor?
BRIGADIER: I did my best with Freeth, but even if he was lying, it seems that he has no way of getting in touch with Tragan.
DOCTOR: Look, if they enter hyperspace or out the other side, that's perfectly true, of course.
JEREMY: Does that mean we can't catch them up after all? I mean, what about Sarah?
DOCTOR: Don't worry. Tardis has a trick worth two of that up her sleeve. By doubling back in the time vortex, she can effectively start before Tragan. We can be on Parakon waiting for him to arrive.
BRIGADIER: But what about the er limitation thingummy? I though you told me
DOCTOR: What, the Blinovitch Limitation Effect?
DOCTOR: That only prevents her from taking us back into our own past. Really, Brigadier, I sometimes think you have a very shaky grasp of the Special Theory of Relativity. Right, that should do it. Jeremy, bring the tools, will you?
JEREMY: But I thought you were going in a rocket thingy. I mean, that's only an old police phone box.
BRIGADIER: Wait till you get inside.

(The hum of the Tardis.)
DOCTOR: Right, that's the way. Quickly now. I want to close the doors.
JEREMY: I say. I mean, it's bigger on the inside than it is on the
DOCTOR: What are you doing in here, boy?
JEREMY: You asked me to bring the tools.
DOCTOR: Yes. Yes, well, it's too late now, I've activated the coordinates. You'll have to come too.
(The familiar sound of the time rotor.)

SARAH: Is there any reason why you should keep me tied up?
TRAGAN: We shall soon be through the hyperspace and touching down on Parakon. Of course, if you were to give me your word
SARAH: I presume that we shan't be landing at your equivalent to Heathrow.
TRAGAN: I have my own facilities in my own, er, backyard, I think you would call it.
SARAH: Fortress Tragan, with a nice selection of hungry beasties roaming the grounds?
TRAGAN: One might almost think you'd been there.
SARAH: I'll give you my word, all right. I don't know what your game is, but you're evil through and through, and I give you my word that I'll go on fighting you to the end, whatever that might be.
TRAGAN: Ah, the brave ones are always so much more rewarding. When at last they break, the extremity of their fear resonates like the shriek of a thousand out of tune violins. How can I bear to wait?

(The Tardis materialises.)
JEREMY: Are we there?
DOCTOR: We are. On the other side of that door, according to Mister Freeth, we shall find a paradise. A paradise called Parakon. Of course, it rather depends on your definition of paradise. You ready, Brigadier?
BRIGADIER: Ready, Doctor.
DOCTOR: Then here goes.

JEREMY: I can't see much.
DOCTOR: Get down!
DOCTOR: Everybody all right?
JEREMY: I've got a lung full of mud.
BRIGADIER: Paradise, Doctor?
SOLDIER: Keep your heads down! Do you want to get killed? Who are you? What are you doing here?
DOCTOR: Is this Parakon?
DOCTOR: This planet, what's its name?
SOLDIER: Just landed, have you? No, this isn't Parakon, may the Great Spirit cast it into the everlasting pit of serpents. This is Blestinu.
BRIGADIER: What did he say?
DOCTOR: This isn't paradise, Brigadier. It isn't even Parakon. The Tardis has brought us to the wrong place.


DOCTOR: Quickly, Jeremy.
JEREMY: I'm stuck! I can't get my foot out of the. Oh!

DOCTOR: Right, that's better.
(The Tardis doors close.)
DOCTOR: Inside the Tardis, we're safe.
JEREMY: Oh, my shoe got stuck in the mud.
BRIGADIER: But how could the Tardis make a mistake like that? Bringing us to the wrong planet. Is the psycho-whatsit circuit still broken?
DOCTOR: Tardis didn't make a mistake, Brigadier. I did. I foolishly made the assumption that the hair on the psychotelemeter came from a creature that is native of Parakon.
JEREMY: (upset) Well, I don't. I don't know what's going on and I've only got one shoe now.
DOCTOR: The psychotelemeter guided Tardis to the place of origin of the creature. And that was Blestinu, not Parakon.
BRIGADIER: Well, now we know, we'd better get a move on.
DOCTOR: And how do you propose to do that? We're in the right sector of the galaxy, certainly, but there must be several thousand possible planets to choose from.
JEREMY: I mean, I can't go wandering around the old universe like Diddle Diddle Dumpling, now can I?
BRIGADIER: What are you talking about?
JEREMY: My son John. You know, the nursery rhyme.
DOCTOR: Of course! Of course, that's the answer. Stuck in the mud outside the door. Thank you, Jeremy.
(The Tardis door opens.)
BRIGADIER: Oh, really.
(Sounds of warfare.)
DOCTOR: Right. Right, got it! There you are. There's your shoe, Jeremy.
JEREMY: Super.
(The door closes.)
DOCTOR: What's more to the point.
BRIGADIER: What is it? What have you got?
DOCTOR: The way that soldier was cursing it, I'd say that Parakon is involved up to its eyes in this war. And knowing how our friend Freeth operates
BRIGADIER: They supply the arms.
DOCTOR: Yeah, more than likely. So, this lump of shrapnel in the focus of the psychotelemeter, in there, with a bit of luck should
(The Tardis dematerialises.)

(An echoing space.)
SARAH: You can put the gun away. I'm not likely to try anything.
TRAGAN: True, true. In you go. Welcome to er, what did you call it? Fortress Tragan. Very appropriate. Straight ahead and through the arch on the left.
SARAH: Is this your home?
TRAGAN: It is.
SARAH: Good Lord.
TRAGAN: This is the headquarters of the Entertainment Division of the Corporation of which I am Vice Chairman. I live over the shop, so to speak. So you see, you can't escape.
ODUN [OC]: Is that you, Vice Chairman?
TRAGAN: Well, who else could it be, Odun?
ODUN [OC]: Well, I thought you were still in er. The Captain of the Presidential Guard is here, asking
RUDLEY [OC]: Tragan, I'm coming in.
ODUN [OC]: You can't go in there. Come back!
(Electronically controlled door opens.)
TRAGAN: This is insufferable. Captain Rudley, you've really gone too far this time.
RUDLEY: Is this Sarah Jane Smith?
TRAGAN: Well, how did you know that?
RUDLEY: Are you all right, Miss Smith?
SARAH: Just about.
RUDLEY: Good. If you would like to come with me.
TRAGAN: The Presidential Guard has no jurisdiction outside the Palace! I'd be within my rights to have you kicked down the front steps.
RUDLEY: I shouldn't advise you to try. I'm here on the direct orders of the President himself. Ready, Miss Smith?
SARAH: I certainly am.
TRAGAN: Miss Smith stays here.
RUDLEY: Get out of the way.
TRAGAN: You are of very little account in this society, Captain Rudley. If you take my advice. Oh!
SARAH: Goodness!
RUDLEY: Come along, Miss Smith. I didn't hit him very hard. He's only winded.
(Door opens.)
TRAGAN: You, you young puppy! I'll have you whipped for this!

PRESIDENT: My dear Onya, please stop fussing with my pulse rate. I assure you that I find my guests more stimulating than tiring.
(The President sounds very old, and Onya is a lady.)
ONYA: Yes, of course, President. Forgive me for interrupting you.
PRESIDENT: Now, where were we? Oh, oh yes, your adventurous journey. Now, where was this er, this war?
DOCTOR: A planet by the name of Blestinu.
PRESIDENT: A war on Blestinu? I find that difficult to believe.
DOCTOR: Yes, well I assure you, we're not mistaken.
PRESIDENT: No, you were unlucky. A little local quarrel, no more.
BRIGADIER: Oh, you must be right, your Excellency.
PRESIDENT: Please, Brigadier. We don't go to such extremes of ceremony. President will do very well. We are a democracy, after all.
DOCTOR: It looked uncommonly like a war to me.
PRESIDENT: Of course, they had a primitive tribal society when we first went to Blestinu, but we brought peace and prosperity, as we do wherever we go. You know, if you stay on Parakon, you'll see visitors from many different alien races living together in harmony, but it takes a little while. I can't tell you the pleasure it gives me to welcome the representatives of the United Nations of Earth. Too many of the planets we visited are very far from united.
DOCTOR: I think the word expresses a pious hope rather than a reality, President.
PRESIDENT: I see. You will, of course, be accorded the status of Ambassadors during your stay with us.
(Door opens.)
JEREMY: Oh, Sarah!
BRIGADIER: Oh, thank the Lord!
SARAH: Doctor!
DOCTOR: I can't tell you how relieved I am, Sarah.
SARAH: Oh, same here, but. Oh, why aren't you dead?
SARAH: Oh, Doctor, am I glad you're not.
DOCTOR: I was quite chuffed myself.
SARAH: Oh, and Doctor, I actually saw
DOCTOR: Later, Sarah. Later.
BRIGADIER: May I introduce Miss Sarah Jane Smith, President.
PRESIDENT: Ah. I gather that you had an inadvertent ride with our Vice Chairman Tragan. Welcome, Miss Smith.
SARAH: Thank you.

FREETH [OC]: He's what? Speak up, Tragan.
TRAGAN: I said that he's invited them both to dinner.
FREETH [OC]: But he mustn't. He can't. You'll have to stop him.
TRAGAN: And how do you expect me to do that, Freeth? Are you ready to show our hand?
FREETH [OC]: No, no, of course not. But this is terrible news. They might tell him anything. But you must do nothing until I have landed. No, wait. We must be prepared.
TRAGAN: What do you mean?
FREETH [OC]: You must neutralise the Presidential Guard in case we have to advance our plans. But legally, Tragan. It must be legally. Do you hear me? First of all, get rid of that young whipper-snapper Rudley.
(Transmission ends.)
TRAGAN: Nothing would give me greater pleasure.

SARAH: And his face was a sort of purply colour, covered in hairy warts.
DOCTOR: Hmm. Mauve, perhaps, rather than purple?
SARAH: Well, yes, I suppose so.
DOCTOR: Ah, a Naglon. I've had trouble with them before.
SARAH: And then Freeth came through and Tragan told him that I'd seen those dog things, and he said to keep me prisoner.
DOCTOR: Were they dogs?
SARAH: They looked like dogs, enormous fighting dogs, but they hadn't got any hair to speak of and their skin was sort of leathery, like a lizard.
DOCTOR: Ah, fascinating. Parallel evolution. A reptilian canine. Did you notice the skin of that Blestinu soldier, Brigadier?
BRIGADIER: I can't say I did. I had other things on my mind at the time.
JEREMY: Yah, like being blown up.
DOCTOR: Well, his face was leathery. Reptilian. The very words leapt at my mind.
SARAH: Where do we go from here?
DOCTOR: Nowhere. We stay and try to find out what's really going on in this paradise they're all so eager to share.

TRAGAN: Well, what have you found out?
(Tapping at a keyboard in the echoing chamber.)
ODUN: Rudley. Captain Waldo Rudley of the Presidential Guard. Native of Parakon. Father, Carpel Rudley, lower upper middle class. Temple Guardian until the dissolution. Deceased. Mother
TRAGAN: Not his entire history, idiot! Is there anything against him?
ODUN: Er, no, not that I can. Oh, yes. Promotion to Lieutenant nearly blocked for a remark seemingly critical of government policy on bond servants. Er, that's all.
TRAGAN: I knew it. Anti-authority. A crypto-rebel.
ODUN: Yes, Vice Chairman.
TRAGAN: Right. Find out where he's going, what his schedule is, do you understand?
ODUN: Yes, Vice Chairman.
TRAGAN: Sooner or later he'll make a slip. I shall enjoy teaching him a lesson.

JEREMY [OC]: Sarah? Sarah? Are you awake?
SARAH: Mmm, I'm just coming.
JEREMY [OC]: You asked me to give you a shout when it was nearly time to go to this do of Captain Rudley's.
(Door opens.)
SARAH: Gosh, I really zonked out. I think it must have been hyperlag or something. Hey, look. There's a couple of those ER couches.
SARAH: Experienced Reality. You know, like the Brig tried in Space World. Come on, let's have a go.
JEREMY: Rather.
(That electronic noise.)
JEREMY: Mmm. Ooo, I'm just sitting in front of a big camp fire, warming my toes. I've got bare feet. Oh, in fact not just my feet. I seem to be. There's a girl, and she. Oh, my goodness me. No, don't do that. Ooo.
JEREMY: Well, really.
SARAH: Jeremy? I do believe you're blushing.
JEREMY: Going a bit far.
SARAH: Let's try number seventy seven.
SARAH: I seem to be going through a forest or a jungle or. I've got some sort of gun thing. Oh, it's quite heavy. And there's someone I'm following. He's seen me. He's started running and I'm going after him. Oh, it must be one of those battle game things. You know, where they fire blobs of paint at one another.
JEREMY: Oh yah.
SARAH: He's out in the open now. I'm raising the gun.
SARAH: I've fired. Oh!
(Her target screams.)
SARAH: It's got quite a kick. I've hit him. He's fallen over and he's pretending. Oh, look, he's really screaming. Oh! And I've run over. There's a great hole in his back and I lift the gun and I'm going. No! No, I can't do it.
SARAH: Oh my God!
JEREMY: Sarah, Sarah, it's not real. Take it off.
SARAH: That's sick. That's really sick.
JEREMY: It wasn't real. It was just a sort of film thingy. You know, special effects and all, and tomato ketchup.
SARAH: No, Jeremy, it was real and I killed him. I deliberately lifted the gun and. No, it was real all right.
(Door opens.)
RUDLEY: I'm afraid it was. You didn't kill him, but he was killed when the recording was made.
SARAH: But that's terrible.
RUDLEY: I'm sorry. I should have warned you. You chose one of the high numbered channels, did you?
SARAH: Seventy seven.
RUDLEY: You don't have public executions on Earth?
SARAH: Where we come from, we don't have the death penalty at all. Is that what that was?
RUDLEY: He would have been plotting against the government or the Corporation. If he'd been an active terrorist, he wouldn't even have been given that chance.
SARAH: What chance did he have?
RUDLEY: They have been known to get away. But those aren't the hunts that are put on the public networks. There must be a kill.
SARAH: And people switch on for that?
RUDLEY: They're the most popular channels.

DOCTOR: We've been promised a paradise, President, but I must admit we're a little short on detail. Background information, you might call it.
PRESIDENT: Hmm, yes, You know, I'm proud to say that it was my grandfather who brought back the rapine seed in the first place. He was a trader, space hopping for new markets and new products. He spotted the potential of rapines straight away.
DOCTOR: And it's on rapine that the paradise is built?
BRIGADIER: I'm sorry, but I don't understand.
ONYA: Shall we clear, President?
PRESIDENT: Oh, er, thank you, Onya. Tell me, Brigadier, was the meat to your liking? And the vegetables, and the wine?
BRIGADIER: Excellent. Rather like a very good claret.
PRESIDENT: Well, not only all the food, but the plates you ate it from, the chair you're sitting on, indeed, very nearly everything you can see in this room is ultimately derived from the rapine plant.
BRIGADIER: Good Lord, that's incredible.
PRESIDENT: The generosity of the plant is incredible. There's nothing that a normal, civilised society might use that can't be manufactured or synthesised from rapine.
BRIGADIER: You mean you've even replaced metal?
PRESIDENT: Even metal. And all this from a plant that will grow in any climate, on any type of fertile soil, and produce harvest after abundant harvest.
DOCTOR: Forgive me, President, but, you know, you sound like a salesman trying to persuade a doubtful customer.
PRESIDENT: (laughs) Very clever of you, Doctor. That's exactly what I was for thirty years or more. An interplanetary salesman. But I wasn't selling rapine. I was selling dreams. I was selling riches. I was selling paradise.

RUDLEY: Ready? And off we go!
(They take off.)
JEREMY: Oh, I say.
RUDLEY: What's up?
JEREMY: Well, I mean, there's no one flying this thing.
RUDLEY: No need. It's locked into the city grid. Far safer.
SARAH: How does it know where to go?
RUDLEY: It's pre-programmed with all the coordinates of all the places I visit regularly.
SARAH: Press button flying.
RUDLEY: Exactly. Starting with the first button, which brings it back home.
JEREMY: Like an old hack to the stable. Super.
(Jeremy sounds a little nauseous.)

ODUN: Captain Rudley, Vice Chairman. He's on his way to a drinking party. Young people and out-worlders. Upper and middle class. Fourteenth sector.
TRAGAN: Have we anybody there?
ODUN: A young Pellonian by the name of Rasco Heldal. A very recent implant. He was in hospital last week for an infected tusk to be removed.
TRAGAN: So he doesn't know he's transmitting.
ODUN: No, sir.
TRAGAN: All the better. Take a patrol and get out there. Patch yourself into Heldal's transmissions and stand by ready to arrest Rudley for speaking treason. Captain Rudley is going to regret his little display of lower upper middle class arrogance!

DOCTOR: So you have a population largely made up out of the unemployed.
PRESIDENT: They're shareholders, consumers.
DOCTOR: They're on a very high dole, of course. And happily unemployed, apparently. You seem to have solved capitalism's biggest problem.
PRESIDENT: We've solved every problem. There's only one producer, you see, the Corporation, so wasteful competition is replaced by rational planning. Our people have everything they could wish for.
(The President sounds very tired.)
PRESIDENT: Everything that money could buy.

RUDLEY: Most people spend quite a bit of their time on the Experienced Reality couches. Man'll be a skimmerball champion for a while, woman a batterball leader, then they change. Fall in love with some singer, perhaps, follow them everywhere. Or spend all the time they can living the lives of an outworlder family on another planet. A play that goes on day after day after day and never ends.
SARAH: It happens at home with the telly. People get hooked.
RUDLEY: Exactly. Like a fish that's always looking for a new bait to swallow. And the favourite bait of all is the hunt, or the execution, when a terrorist is torn to pieces by the great butcher toad in front of a world wide audience, as it happens.
JEREMY: You mean live? Oh, I say.
SARAH: That's disgusting.
RUDLEY: I quite agree. The trouble is, it's too dangerous for those of us who think so to speak out. And all the time the transmissions are getting crueler, and bloodier.

DOCTOR: Combat? What, hand to hand fighting?
PRESIDENT: With various types of weapons, yes. The games are one of the most popular spectacles.
BRIGADIER: But do you mean that they fight to the death, these fellows?
PRESIDENT: Well, any sport has its dangers. A climber can, can fall off a mountain, after all.
DOCTOR: I think the Brigadier was asking if the combatants are actually trying to kill each other, President.
PRESIDENT: Oh, I, er. Oh. Forgive me. I think I must rest. My stamina is not. Please don't think I'm impolite, I. Please stay. Finish the.
ONYA: Come, President. Your guests will excuse you, I feel sure.
PRESIDENT: Thank you, Onya.
PRESIDENT: We shall meet again soon, gentlemen.
(The President leaves with Onya.)
DOCTOR: Yes, of course.
BRIGADIER: Gladiators, by jimminy.
DOCTOR: Hmm. To keep the plebs quiet. The Romans had a word for it, or rather, three words. Panem et circenses. Bread and Circuses. It worked then, it works now.
(Door opens.)
ONYA: The President becomes very upset if he has to face some of the more disturbing aspects of modern life. To be honest, his mind refuses to take in the plain facts.
DOCTOR: Yeah, well, that's an affliction which isn't confined to the aged by any means.
ONYA: I try to shield him as much as we can. He's very old. The father of our people. Their love for him is one of the few things which gives me hope for the future.
DOCTOR: Forgive me, but you
ONYA: I'm just a bond servant, Doctor. The housekeeper. I'll leave you to drink your wine.
BRIGADIER: But there are one or two things I
ONYA: I've said too much already. Please, don't leave. The President will return when he feels better.
(Onya leaves.)
BRIGADIER: Pretty rum sort of housekeeper, if you ask me.
DOCTOR: Hmm. He's not the first president to be kept in the dark, and he won't be the last.

(At the party, a posh girl is being hostess.)
GRECKLE: Help yourself to a little old glass of blip juice, do. Heldal, come and drig-drig like wild.
RUDLEY: Thanks, Greckle.
SARAH: Drig-drig?
RUDLEY: The latest dance, and believe me it can get wild when they get a few glasses of blip inside.

ODUN [OC]: Vice Chairman, we're approaching the fourteenth sector, and monitoring the transmissions.
TRAGAN: Very good. Do nothing till I tell you.

RUDLEY: Hey, Greckle.
GRECKLE: What, my little old toy soldier?
RUDLEY: Where's the ambiance pluraliser?
GRECKLE: Lurks behind the drinks, doesn't it. Like a virgin at a blip do.
RUDLEY: That's something I can't wait to see. Come on.
JEREMY: This thingy juice is delicioso, Sarah. You ought to try some.
RUDLEY: I'd go easy if I were you, Jeremy. That's how it gets its name. It sneaks up from behind and blips you. Now, here we are. Watch.
(Different electronic. Sounds of approval from the party goers)
JEREMY: I say. We're in a clearing in a forest. A jungly forest. I can smell the wet leaves.
SARAH: Oh, I get it. It's like the desert the Kamelius was in, sort of projected.
RUDLEY: That's right. Recorded like Experienced Reality and projected into our brains.
(A change of scene. Sounds of water, lots of it.)
GRECKLE: Oh, enough, enough, she cried. At boats I draw the line. Do you want us to be seasick, then?
RUDLEY: Sorry.
(Another change, to cheers.)
GRECKLE: Oh, better. Oh, inordinately better. A moon brothel just suits my mood.
RUDLEY: Take a few deep breaths. It'll soon go away.
GRECKLE: Oh, you're as c-c-c-cold as an ice lizard, you are, Waldo Rudley. Never mind. We're going to watch the semi final of the games later. That'll heat you up.
GRECKLE: Why? Because it's exciting, that's why.
SARAH: What games are those?
RUDLEY: Killing games.
(A very deep voice joins them.)
HELDAL: And what's wrong with the killing games?
RUDLEY: Oh, I might have known you'd be here Sarah, Jeremy, this is an old sparring partner of mine. Rasco Heldal from Pellonia.
SARAH: Hello.
JEREMY: Hi there.
HELDAL: I said, what's wrong with the killing games?
RUDLEY: I don't like them, that's all.

ODUN [OC]: Is that enough? Shall I go in with the patrol?
TRAGAN: No. That's just an expression of feeling. That's not nearly enough yet.

HELDAL: Call yourself a soldier? Funny sort of soldier who doesn't like the killing.
RUDLEY: My job is to protect the President. If that means I have to kill somebody, I'll do it. It's not in my contract of service that I also have to enjoy it.
GRECKLE: But the games are a flame-out. Everybody hots at the games.
RUDLEY: That's one of the things I hate about them. What they do to us when we watch them.

RUDLEY [OC]: Filling us with hate and lust.
TRAGAN: His father was a Temple Guardian, you say?
ODUN [OC]: Dead now.
TRAGAN: Typical Temple cant.

GRECKLE: I certainly hate that Jenhegger. I hope the champion rips him into a thousand pieces.
(The partygoers cheer.)
HELDAL: Some champion. Jenhegger will slaughter him.
CROWD: Rubbish.
SARAH: Oh, just look at their faces.
RUDLEY: There you are, you see? You actually want to see their guts spilling onto the sand. What's wrong with you all?
HELDAL: Nobody asks them to fight. It's their own choice.
RUDLEY: Do you think so? Bond servants promised their freedom. Lower lower class morons bribed with a bundle of shares. Outworlders trying to make a name for themselves. Criminals threatened with the hunt. What sort of choices are those?

TRAGAN: That's better. That's a lot better.
GRECKLE [OC]: But sweet little old Waldo, think of the money the Corporation makes. The last games alone nearly doubled our dividend.
RUDLEY [OC]: You think its right that the Corporation should kill people just for the sake of some extra profit?
TRAGAN: Ready, Odun?
ODUN [OC]: Outside their door, Vice Chairman.
GRECKLE [OC]: Oh, right.

GRECKLE: You'll be telling us it's a sin next.
HELDAL: What's wrong with it, then?
RUDLEY: I'll tell you what's wrong with it. It turns people into things. It is a sin! It's a sin against the spirit.
(Gasps from the listeners.)
RUDLEY: The government ought to stop it, but they're in it up to their necks!

TRAGAN: Go, go, go!

ODUN: Stand still, everybody! I said still. Stop that music. Waldo Rudley, you are arrested under the Treason Act. A gross violation
RUDLEY: This is ridiculous. You know very well that I'm Captain of the Presidential Guard.
ODUN: The law knows no favourites. You've been speaking treason. You're under arrest.
SARAH: Oh, but all he said
ODUN: Silence!
(The creature with him hisses.)
GRECKLE: Be quiet, or they'll take you, too.
ODUN: Move!
RUDLEY: Sarah! Jeremy! Let the President know what's ow!

TRAGAN: Very satisfactory. And what are you going to do about it, Sarah Jane Smith?

SARAH: What happens now? Is there any way
GRECKLE: Music please, Momi.
SARAH: We've got to do something.
HENDAL: Forget it. He's dead.
SARAH: No, but all he said was
GRECKLE: Stop it. Stop it, stop it. You'll have them back again. I'm not going to have my party spoiled by that odious young man.
SARAH: Come on, Jeremy.
JEREMY: How are we going to
SARAH: Come on.

TRAGAN: Running to the Doctor, eh? I think it's time this charade was stopped.

JEREMY: But we don't know how to fly this thing.
SARAH: Oh yes, we do. All we have to do is to press the first button on the navigation panel, remember? See? It's going to take us home. And that must mean the President's house, and that means the Doctor.

DOCTOR: Even on our own terms, there's one thing missing from the paradise equation, Brigadier.
BRIGADIER: A good Highland malt?
DOCTOR: It could be expressed in several different ways. Nothing for nothing and precious little for sixpence, as King Lear very nearly said. There's no such thing as a free lunch, as he might have said if he'd thought of it. Or, the higher the fewer.
BRIGADIER: I'm not with you, Doctor.
DOCTOR: I mean, how can they keep taking all these riches from the soil if they never put anything back? The more they take, the less there'll be. The equation just doesn't balance.
BRIGADIER: So what are we going to do about it?
DOCTOR: There's only one person who can find out the answers and still be safe, and that's the President himself. It seems to be quite clear that he's been kept in ignorance. Well, it's time that stopped. We must tell him the whole story.
TRAGAN: What an excellent scheme, Doctor. And what a shame that you didn't think of it earlier.
BRIGADIER: What on Earth do you think you're
TRAGAN: Don't move. This makes very little noise.
DOCTOR: If you kill us, you'll never manage to keep it quiet.
TRAGAN: You think not? I don't agree. Provided we terminate the contracts of all four of you, so to speak. The United Nations mission would of course leave a polite note of regret for its sudden departure. And are your friends on Earth going to er, send a search party to Parakon?
(Door opens.)
PRESIDENT: Ah, Doctor, Brigadier. Will you forgive my lack of courtesy?
BRIGADIER: There's nothing to forgive, sir.
PRESIDENT: Vice Chairman Tragan?
DOCTOR: Mister Tragan had a message for us. But if you'll forgive me, I'm very pleased that he's here, because he can listen to what I have to say to you.
PRESIDENT: Yes? Oh, yes, of course. What is it, Doctor?
DOCTOR: Well, it relates to certain things that happened before we left Earth, sir.
(Door opens.)
FREETH: Forgive me for interrupting.
PRESIDENT: What? Oh, never an interruption. It does my old heart good to see you back. Doctor, Brigadier, may I introduce the Chairman of the Parakon Corporation, my son, Balog Freeth.
DOCTOR: Yes, we've. Your son, sir?
PRESIDENT: Yes, yes. He took over from me when I resigned to run for President. Would I have trusted my Corporation to a stranger? Sit down, my boy. Pour yourself a glass. Now, the Doctor is just about to tell us a story. I must say, he has me thoroughly intrigued.
DOCTOR: Yeah, well, I think the moment has passed, sir. If you'll forgive me, another time?
PRESIDENT: Oh yes, of course, Doctor.
BRIGADIER: Thank you, sir.
PRESIDENT: Until tomorrow, then. No, no, not you, Vice Chairman Tragan. Before you go, I should like to hear what message can be so urgent that you consider it gives you permission
(Door opens.)
BRIGADIER: We can't stay here now.
DOCTOR: Certainly not. But we can't leave without Sarah and Jeremy.

JEREMY: Oh, why do you always have to go so fast? I can't keep up.
SARAH: We've got to get the Doctor to talk to the President. Oh, they're not here.
JEREMY: In the bedrooms?
SARAH: Doctor? Brigadier?
DOCTOR: Sarah, thank goodness. Come on, there's no time to lose.
SARAH: Where are we going?
DOCTOR: To the Tardis. We've got to get away from here.
SARAH: But we can't go yet. They're going to kill Waldo.
BRIGADIER: What, Captain Rudley?
SARAH: Yes. Execute him, hunt him. What does it matter. We've got to stop them.
DOCTOR: Oh, no.
BRIGADIER: What is it?
TRAGAN: You didn't really think we'd be so stupid as to leave your ship unguarded, Doctor?
FREETH: We meet again, Doctor. Just in time to say goodbye. And we've hardly got to know each other. To misquote a little, I think this could be the end of a beautiful friendship.
DOCTOR: What are you going to do?
FREETH: You've asked the wrong question, Doctor. You know very well what I'm going to do. The question is, how.


(Chinking of keys)
GUARD: Get in there.
SARAH: No need to push!
JEREMY: Keep your hands to yourself! Argh.
BRIGADIER: That's quite enough.
DOCTOR: Can't you control your eager friends, Freeth?
FREETH: Alas no, Doctor. They're no friends of mine, you see. Bosom pals of Vice Chairman Tragan, yes.
DOCTOR: Sharing many of the same tastes, no doubt.
FREETH: Oh, I expect so. They'll be outside the door with their little pop guns until I return. Why not try them out?
DOCTOR: We can wait.
FREETH: Yes, well, you'll have to, won't you? Wait and wonder. Do forgive me for deserting you. I'm sure you'll find some way of amusing yourselves.
(Door opens and closes.)
SARAH: We've got to do something about Waldo. They're going to kill him!
DOCTOR: They intend to dispose of all of us.
JEREMY: Oh, I say. The rotten lot.
BRIGADIER: Can't quite think what they're waiting for.
DOCTOR: It's quite clear that they're frightened of the power that the President still has. Freeth has to convince his father that we've left Parakon before he can do anything final.
BRIGADIER: So what are we going to do?
DOCTOR: There's nothing we can do, Brigadier, but wait.

(Heavy footsteps.)
FREETH: Get out of the way. How dare you try to stop me!
ONYA: Oh, I wouldn't do that, Chairman. Of course, you have the right to go in and see the President whenever you like, but he has retired for the night, you see. He'll be asleep by now. You know how he hates to be disturbed.
FREETH: Hmm. Very well. Tell the President that I shall be coming to see him immediately after breakfast.
ONYA: I'm sure that would be best, sir.

(The door unlocked and opened. Water is dripping nearby.)
TRAGAN: Good morning, Captain Rudley. I do hope that you had a bad night.
RUDLEY: I demand to see the President. I have a right to
TRAGAN: No! You have no rights. You forfeited your rights when you chose to incite your fellow guests to treason.
RUDLEY: But that's ridiculous. I was merely
TRAGAN: You seem to forget that we have a full ER recording of your offence. Everything will be conducted according to the due process of law. That recording will be played immediately before the transmission of the carrying out of your sentence, so that justice may be seen to be done.
RUDLEY: You mean to frighten everybody into behaving themselves.
TRAGAN: Oh, you're uncommonly bright for a military man, Captain. Now then, to business. Speaking for myself, I should prefer to see you slowly dismembered by an over-curious Kranjal ape, or chewed to death by a swarm of soldier chice.
RUDLEY: Of course.
TRAGAN: However, the law grants you the privilege of choosing to volunteer as a combatant in the games, instead of being a participant in the hunt. I have to offer you that choice.
RUDLEY: Kill or be killed.
TRAGAN: Some have survived for several years. Last night's victor, for example.
RUDLEY: To date, I believe, Jenhegger has finished off over eighty challengers. Murder as a way of life somehow doesn't appeal. I may be a fool, Tragan, but I'm not a hypocrite.
TRAGAN: Death before dishonour? Hmm, how very noble.

GUARD: What's this, then?
ONYA: Food for the prisoners.
GUARD: Nobody said anything about
ONYA: From the President's kitchen.
GUARD: Well, I suppose it's all right then. Keep an eye on them, you.
GUARD 2: Okay.
(Electronic door.)
GUARD: All right, get back you lot. I said back. Right, bring it in then.
JEREMY: Oh, breakfast.
GUARD: Keep back. Now listen here. You stay back until I close the door again, and then you can stuff yourself silly for all I care. Got it?
DOCTOR: How could we resist such an elegant invitation.
ONYA: Guard, look here.
GUARD: What?
ONYA: Come and see.
GUARD: What is it? I can't see anything.
ONYA: No, no, no. Down there.
(Smash, crash! Thud)
DOCTOR: Well done!
ONYA: Doctor, quick. By the door. Yed, I think he's fainted!
GUARD 2: What? What's going on here?
DOCTOR: Hai-ee!
(Gurgle, thud.)
ONYA: Very neat, Doctor. I couldn't have done it better myself.
BRIGADIER: Who? I mean, what?
ONYA: No time for explanations now. Come on.

TRAGAN: They escaped during the night?
FREETH [OC]: No, no, not during the night. During the last few minutes.
TRAGAN: They won't try their ship again. Get off the line, Freeth. I'll seal the building off.
FREETH [OC]: I must say, Tragan, the performance of your guards.
TRAGAN: Get off the line.

ONYA: Into the small fly car.
DOCTOR: The blue one?
SARAH: Where's Jeremy? Jeremy, over here.
JEREMY: I came round the corner, there you were gone.
GUARD: Fire, Fire, fire, fire.
ONYA: Quickly. Ow!
BRIGADIER: Onya's hit. Jeremy, give me a hand.
(They get into the fly car.)
ONYA: They got my arm.
DOCTOR: Don't worry, I can fly it. Right now, hang on!
(They take off.)
TRAGAN [OC]: All units, all units. Apprehend fugitives leaving Presidential palace.
ONYA: It's tuned to the patrol frequency.
TRAGAN [OC]: I repeat. Apprehend fugitives leaving Presidential palace.
ONYA: There's one now.
DOCTOR: Don't worry. I'll soon lose him.
JEREMY: Oh, I say!
ONYA: There's supposed to be a speed limiter, but I removed the governor.
BRIGADIER: What a woman!
DOCTOR: Isn't there risk of positive feedback in the helical particle generator?
ONYA: Well, not if you. You know these craft?
SARAH: There's not much the Doctor doesn't know.
DOCTOR: It's very like the skimmers we used to fly when I was a boy on Gallifrey. You never forget how to ride a bicycle, do you. Now then, where to?

FREETH: Lost them?
TRAGAN [OC]: We were just too late.
FREETH: Then find them, Tragan.
TRAGAN [OC]: They were in an ordinary small fly car, like any one of thousands. How would you suggest I set about it?
FREETH: Argh! Grrr.

ONYA: I'm sorry to hear it. Waldo Rudley was always an impetuous young man.
SARAH: But what can we do?
ONYA: He's in no immediate danger. It'll take time to organise the hunt. Then we'll see what we can do.
DOCTOR: How's your arm?
ONYA: Still can't move it, but the feeling's beginning to come back.
DOCTOR: Yes, it's as I thought. It was an energy-blocking stun gun.
ONYA: Quite right, Doctor.
DOCTOR: Lucky he was at extreme range.
ONYA: It's not the first time, I must admit.
DOCTOR: The housekeepers on Parakon seem to lead surprisingly full lives. That was as pretty a piece of unarmed combat back there as I've seen in years.
ONYA: And you, Doctor?
DOCTOR: Oh, a similar discipline, I expect. I call it Venusian Akido.
BRIGADIER: Yes, all very fine and we're enormously grateful and all that, but, if you'll forgive me, who exactly are you, and where are you taking us? You're not really the President's servant, are you.
ONYA: I loved him and protected him, and now I shall never be able to return. I'm taking you to my real home.
JEREMY: Wow zowie! Look at that. It's the size of a rugger pitch.
ONYA: The space freighter. Yes, the interplanetary freighter pads are scattered all around the perimeter of the city.
SARAH: You mean that thing's full of goods of some sort?
ONYA: Raw material coming in or manufactures just
DOCTOR: Rapine.
ONYA: Exactly. The whole plant, its flowers, foliage, stems, roots, seeds. And going back, everything Parakon can manufacture. They say that there's a Corporation freighter either landing or taking off from somewhere on the planet for every twenty breaths you take. And I say those freighters are killing us, as surely as the Corporation killed the land below us.
BRIGADIER: Looks like sea. Are we flying over the ocean?
ONYA: Look again, Brigadier.
SARAH: That looks like a tree stump or something.
DOCTOR: It's a desert, isn't it? An enormous dust bowl.
ONYA: The President told you that Parakon is a paradise. It's more like a hell. But it used to be a paradise in earlier times. A lush green paradise where the people hunted and planted their crops.
DOCTOR: A golden age.
ONYA: I heard the President tell you that rapine is a generous plant. Rapine is greedy. It takes the best from the earth and puts nothing back. It's taught us all how to be greedy too.
DOCTOR: Doesn't anything grow on Parakon any more?
ONYA: Practically nothing. All the accessible fertile land was turned over entirely to rapine. You can see the result.
SARAH: I think that's terrible.
ONYA: There are a few patches of wilderness left where the terrain made it difficult to farm. That's where we're going now, to the largest. It's known as the Lakan, the place of no hope. But to me it holds the last hope of Parakon.

FREETH: This Onya. Who is she? Where does she come from?
TRAGAN: That is precisely what I am checking at the moment. Ah, here we are. Onya Farjen, bond servant to the President. Previous employer, Catian Glesay, deceased. Highly recommended. Previous records unavailable. Reference
FREETH: Unavailable.
TRAGAN: I thought as much. Her previous records were destroyed in the Temple dissolution riots.
FREETH: I see. So our only lead is this Catian Glesay, correct?
TRAGAN: So it would seem.
FREETH: And she's dead.

ONYA: Oh, my name wasn't Onya Farjen in those days. It was Catian Glesay, and I was a research biologist with the Corporation. A good one, too. I loved the work.
BRIGADIER: You see? I said she wasn't just a housekeeper.
ONYA: I was so immersed in my research that I thought of nothing else. Ordinary life seemed to be nothing but an irritating interruption.
DOCTOR: Yes, it can easily happen.
ONYA: It was the work that hid me from the hell we were creating for ourselves.
DOCTOR: What did you do?
ONYA: I ran away. Look, that's where we're going, dead ahead.
JEREMY: Looks like an island.
SARAH: A green island in a yellow sea.
BRIGADIER: And you say that this is your real home? A jungle full of wild beasts?
ONYA: Not quite. In the middle of the Lakan with rocky hills all round, it would be too much to call them mountains, there's a high valley which is just as Parakon used to be long ago. Oh, long before rapine. And the only one of the original tribes never to have been conquered are living their lives there as they have done since the beginning. They call it Kimonya, Sky Land. That's my home.
DOCTOR: So, I make for the centre.
ONYA: No, Doctor. We can't take the chance of leading the Corporation there. You see, I'm not the only one to run away. There are hundreds of us by now. We go in on foot, I'm afraid.

(Jungle sounds.)
JEREMY: Mmm. Yummy, aren't they? I could go on eating them for yonks. Like a champagne cocktail.
SARAH: I was about to say, like a sherbert dip.
JEREMY: I wonder what these red ones
SARAH: No! For Pete's sake, Jeremy. Don't you ever listen? They only look like fruit. Those are the sort of land jellyfish things that Onya said eat you up from the inside.
JEREMY: Don't think I like this place. What's the Doctor doing to Onya's arm?
SARAH: Sort of laying-on of hands. Let's go and see.
DOCTOR: As the stun gun blocked the energy flow, so we have to reverse the effect.
BRIGADIER: Reverse the polarity of the neutron flow, eh, Doctor?
(First said in the Sea Devils, then Castrovalva, Mawdryn Undead, Five Doctors and Almost People.)
DOCTOR: You may mock, Lethbridge Stewart. I know as well as you, that expression would sound like nonsense to a classical subatomic physicist.
DOCTOR: Well, now I'm reversing the pseudo-polarity of the metaphorical synapses in Onya's putative energy channels. And that's just as nonsensical and just as effective.
(Sarah laughs.)
BRIGADIER: I haven't a clue what you're talking about.
ONYA: Oh, but I have. It might be my old teacher talking. Thank you, Doctor. It's completely better. Look.
BRIGADIER: Well, bless my soul.
ONYA: Right, if you've had enough breakfast?
JEREMY: Oh yes, super.
ONYA: Well, before we set out, we all have to be deactivated, just in case.
DOCTOR: In case of what?
ONYA: In case any of us have had ER transmission needles implanted in our brains. Has anyone been alone with Vice Chairman Tragan or any of his people?
SARAH: Oh please, I'd rather not think about it.
ONYA: I doubt if you were implanted. They'd have been on to us by now.
SARAH: Well, there was nothing like that. Plenty of other nasties, but nothing like that.
ONYA: You wouldn't necessarily remember having an implantation, but if you have had, you could lead them straight to Sky Land. We daren't take the risk.
SARAH: Will I feel anything?
ONYA: No, not a thing. Just hold these electrodes to your temples.
ONYA: The needles are made of a bio-compatible organic polymer which is disposed of by the body within a relatively short time. This merely speeds up the process. Right, who's next? We'll have to hurry, it's quite a way.

MEDAN: Rance. Rance?
RANCE: What is it, Medan?
MEDAN: Can't you get someone else to take this on? I get a bigger kick out of watching the grass growing.
RANCE: What's got into you today?
MEDAN: I've got a sore head, I need a drink, and I'm missing my wife. Next question?
RANCE: Just cool down. Somebody's got to do it, okay? Anything to report?
MEDAN: No, not a lot. Interference on the ER matrix right on the edge of the Lakan.
RANCE: God help us, not another hunt.
MEDAN: No, there's no transmission, just this (burbles) There it is again.
RANCE: It's the deactivator. Onya must be bringing someone through.
MEDAN: You'd better tell Kaido that their Mamonya's on their way.

(Sounds of excited people.)
IRISH: What's got into Kaido's people. Kaido? Kaido, what's going on?
KAIDO: A big feast tonight. We are killing our fattest deer. Mamonya's coming. Excuse me, please. I have much to do.
IRISH: I'll never get to the bottom of these people.
IRISH: How the hell did he know that?

(Hacking through the undergrowth.)
JEREMY: I say, give a chap a chance. Slow down a bit.
BRIGADIER: Must say, I could do with a breather myself.
ONYA: I'm sorry. I'm apt to forget.
DOCTOR: So, Onya, your training was physical as well as spiritual.
ONYA: Oh, it's difficult to disentangle the two, but I've still a long way to go. If I had the skill the tribe think I have, the skill my teacher had. Oh, I've tried to tell them. Well, I wouldn't need this to find my way.
SARAH: What is it, a compass?
ONYA: It's a direction finder calibrated to the ER matrix the Entertainments Division uses for the hunt. I've programmed it for Sky Land.
JEREMY: Help me! Help me quickly!
DOCTOR: Jeremy! Keep very still.
JEREMY: I can't do anything else. It's got me by the foot.
DOCTOR: Right, now listen, everybody. Stand still and be very quiet. Have you any idea what it might be, Onya?
ONYA: No, unless it's a trap lizard. But you'd have to cut off its head before a trap lizard would let go. And if it's an arrow serpent, we're all in trouble.
(Jeremy whimpers.)
DOCTOR: Right, everybody. Stay here. I'm going to have a look. It's all right, Jeremy. We'll soon have you out of there. Shush, quiet. Shush. All right, Jeremy. You can come out now.
JEREMY: It's still got me.
DOCTOR: You have caught your ankle between two tree roots.
SARAH: Oh, Jeremy!
JEREMY: Oh, so I have. Sorry.
DOCTOR: For Pete's sake. Come on, let's get a move on.
BRIGADIER: Chop, chop.

FREETH: Oh, good of you to spare the time from your busy schedule, Tragan.
TRAGAN: A pleasure, Chairman.
(Freeth is speaking with his mouth full.)
FREETH: No, no. Don't sit down. I know you'll be dying to get back to er, whatever it is you find to fill your time. You will forgive me if I finish my lunch.
TRAGAN: Of course.
FREETH: So. Waldo Rudley is even now winding his way to his fated destiny. Or is that a tautology? Well, never mind. Let us hope he meets his pleonastic doom, unlike your recent candidates. Little hobby of yours, is it, letting people escape?
TRAGAN: Captain Rudley's on his way to the Lakan, yes.
FREETH: I shall enjoy watching him squeal. Mmm. You know, it's amazing what getting one's trotters into the trough and one's snout into a glass or two of slosh will do for the spirit, Tragan. I'm beginning to feel optimistic again.
TRAGAN: I'm glad to hear it.
FREETH: After all, what harm can these wretched people do to us now? They can't return to Earth as long as we hold their ship. As for the rest, aren't they fugitives? If they show a nose above the parapet, pop! I've always enjoyed shooting a little sitting bird.
TRAGAN: All the same, Chairman, I think it would be as well to tread very delicately until we're sure.
FREETH: Ah, belts and braces. Belts and braces every time. And that's why you're going to find them for me, like the nasty little Naglon you are, and destroy them. Aren't you, Tragan, my pet.

(Back in the jungle.)
ONYA: Not long now. When we get to the top, you'll be able to see the valley. That's when I feel I've come home to my family.
DOCTOR: When I lost my teacher, I felt as if my father had died.
ONYA: Old Darshi was father to the whole tribe. He was the one who changed my name. You see, it was his healing that brought me back to some sort of sanity. He showed me how to untie the knots in my mind, how to let the clouds melt away so that I could see the sky again.
DOCTOR: The self-same image he used.
ONYA: So he called me Onya Farjen, Sky Born, or borne of the sky. And when he died, I was there to take his place in the tribe.
JEREMY: Oh lor!
SARAH: Oh Jeremy, not again.
JEREMY: A big lizard thingy ran right across my toes.
BRIGADIER: And it didn't bite them, did it. Now please may we get
DOCTOR: Shush. Quiet. Listen.
ONYA: What is it?
(Something roars and stomps nearby.)
DOCTOR: That's no lizard.
ONYA: Oh, my word. I told you I still had a lot to learn. I nearly led you straight into the territory of a Gargan. Get down. He's very short-sighted, and nearly deaf, but his sense of smell. Here he comes.
DOCTOR: I haven't seen teeth that size since the last Tyrannosaurus I met.
JEREMY: (sotto) He's taking off for the trees again. He's going after that lizard thing.
SARAH: Why didn't he sniff us out, if he's so good at scenting things?
ONYA: We're outside his territory. He builds a sort of cave, you see. Yes, look, you can just see it over there. And he marks out his domain with a line of rocks. And if any creature steps within its boundaries, he'll follow its scent until he finds it and eats it. He never gives up. He's starve first. Oh, if we'd put a foot over that line, we'd all be dead.
(Further on.)
JEREMY: Oh, I don't mind telling you I'm pooped.
SARAH: Oh, do stop whinging.
DOCTOR: I should both save your breath if I were you.
ONYA: There you are. Kimonya, the land in the sky.
BRIGADIER: Good gracious.
JEREMY: I say.
SARAH: It's beautiful.
DOCTOR: Perhaps we've all come home.
JEREMY: Hey, look at those whopping great birds.
SARAH: They're not birds, bats. Giant bats.
ONYA: It's Kaido and his people coming to meet us.
BRIGADIER: You mean that the Kimonya tribe are bats?
DOCTOR: No, no, no, Brigadier. They're riding them! Look!
(Leathery wings stop flapping, harness jingles.)
KAIDO: Greetings, Mamonya. Our mother has returned to us.
ONYA: Greetings, Kaido. I return with great happiness. I bring more friends to meet you.
DOCTOR: Greetings, Kaido.
KAIDO: I give a welcome to the friends of Mamonya. You look tired.
ONYA: He's being polite. He wants to offer us a lift down to the village.
BRIGADIER: On those things?
SARAH: Well, I'm game.
DOCTOR: What are we waiting for? Thank you, Kaido. One on each?
ONYA: That's right, behind the rider.
BRIGADIER: Bit of a dicey proposition, if you ask me. Oh well, here goes.
JEREMY: Er, there's no saddle or anything.
DOCTOR: Just hang on to the fur, boy.
(The bats take off.)
JEREMY: Oh, I say!
BRIGADIER: Oh, if my corps (?) could see me now!

TRAGAN [OC]: Chairman? We are about to release Rudley into the Lakan. If you wish, I can route the transmissions of the hunt as we record them, through to your ER receiver on channels ninety seven and ninety eight.
FREETH: No, no, I'll come down to the control room.
TRAGAN [OC]: Very well.

DOCTOR: But, Mister Rance, isn't that a stun gun?
RANCE: If we're going to overturn Freeth and his gang, we've got to have weapons. We've got a certain number of old-fashioned fire arms, but we've also acquired a few of the Entertainment Division's security weapons.
ONYA: And I won't even consider letting him use them.
BRIGADIER: They seemed rather effective to me.
ONYA: A barbarous weapon. A full charge means total permanent paralysis. A nasty lingering death. How can the new Parakon be based on such a thing? We'd be no better than those we fight.
DOCTOR: So you're converting them into simple old-fashioned stun guns.
RANCE: Which will knock out the target for only a short while. Exactly. And down here, we can scan the ER frequencies to try to pick up the hunts in the Lakan area. We've managed to save seven so far. How's it going, Medan?
MEDAN: I'm as bored as I was three hours ago.
SARAH: Hi there.
ONYA: Hello, you two. Happy with your quarters?
JEREMY: It's like toy town, all those little huts. Super.
MEDAN: Hang on. I thought I had something there. Yep, there it is again. He's on the run all right.
RANCE: Right. Put it on the monitor matrix so we can all experience it.
(Electronic. Sound of someone panting.)
BRIGADIER: Poor devil.
SARAH: Oh no, no, it must be Waldo.
MEDAN: He's quite near. Look at the coordinates. Just over the eastern hills.
ONYA: Try scanning the other channel for the hunters.
DOCTOR: Isn't that rather a tall order?
ONYA: It's usually a nearby frequency. They've very little imagination, these people.
HUNTER [OC]: Got him. Look. Dodging behind that outcrop. Now, don't lose him.
SARAH: It is Waldo. I can see him. Oh, we've got to do something.
HUNTER [OC]: Hang on, the fool's making for the Gargan territory.
SARAH: Oh, no.
HUNTER [OC]: I'll have to try and stop him.
SARAH: Oh do something!
HUNTER [OC]: Steady.
(Bang! Scream.)

FREETH: He's shot him. The incompetent imbecile.
TRAGAN: Standing orders. He's tried to wing him. If he once goes into a Gargan area, nobody can follow him. Our part of the hunt would be over. Though, of course, once the Gargan returns, we could at least enjoy his reaction to being er, eaten alive.

HUNTER [OC]: That's it, then. I'm not going in after him. Come on, let's get back. Bit of luck, really. I promised to take the kids to the big fight tomorrow.
RANCE: Switch to the quarry, Medan.
(Electronic. Rudley panting.)
ONYA: Oh, he's going into the Gargan den. Oh that's the worst possible thing he could do.
SARAH: We've got to try. Oh! What happened? I felt as if I was falling over.
DOCTOR: It's Waldo who fell over. We experienced it with him..
MEDAN: Contact gone.
ONYA: He's lost consciousness, that's why. There are no sense data to transmit.
RANCE: Stay on the frequency.
SARAH: We've got to go and get him out before that thing comes back.
ONYA: That's impossible. We'd just be adding our own deaths to his.
BRIGADIER: But if we hunt the Gargan down before it gets him?
ONYA: You can't.
DOCTOR: The Kimonya people, they're hunters. Surely they'd be able to
ONYA: No, no, you don't understand. All life is sacred to the Kimonya, even the life of the beasts they eat. But the Gargan is holy. He stands for the spirit of life and death.
SARAH: Oh, Doctor, please. We must do something now.
DOCTOR: Sarah, it'd be worse than useless. We've got to find out the facts first.
BRIGADIER: You mean they won't kill a Gargan in any circumstances?
ONYA: Never. And if you were to do it, it would destroy everything we've built up here. It's their greatest taboo.
SARAH: (sotto) Come on, Jeremy.
ONYA: When you come into this life, death is inevitable.
(Sarah and Jeremy move away from the conversation.)
JEREMY: What's that you've got?
SARAH: I nicked the direction finder. It's just a matter of putting in the coordinates of the cave from the ER monitor. There, done it. Come on!

FREETH: Well, congratulations, Tragan. Your people have proved themselves as efficient as their colleagues. Have you ever heard the saying, a fish rots from the head downwards? No? Think about it in bed tonight, if you can't sleep.

ONYA: All I can do is talk to Kaido, but I'm not very hopeful.
DOCTOR: If there's anything that I can
ONYA: No, forgive me. It would be better if I can see him alone.
DOCTOR: Our hands are tied, Brigadier. Even if we could lure the creature away, the poor boy's still doomed.
BRIGADIER: Unless we could get him right away from this place.
DOCTOR: Yes, but if we do that. Wait a minute. Where's Sarah and Jeremy?
BRIGADIER: Haven't seen them for some time.
DOCTOR: The little fools. They've gone to try a great dramatic rescue. We'll have to stop them.
BRIGADIER: Well, do you know the way?
DOCTOR: Of course I do. We flew over the whole area, didn't we? Well, are you coming?
BRIGADIER: Well, I'll catch you up.

SARAH: Oh, can't you go any faster?
JEREMY: You go on ahead.
SARAH: No. You might lose your way.
JEREMY: I'm sorry, I've got to stop. I'm wiped out.
SARAH: Oh, Jeremy.

BRIGADIER: No sign of them.
DOCTOR: Yes, well, they're younger than we are, by several hundred years.
BRIGADIER: Speak for yourself, Doctor.

JEREMY: Wait a mo. Onya said that if we step across that line of rocks
SARAH: We can't worry about that now. Oh, be quiet, for heaven's sake. Let's just pray the Gargan isn't in the cave. No, it's all right. It hasn't come back. Thank God! There's Waldo. Waldo. Waldo!
JEREMY: I say, he hasn't half lost a lot of blood.
SARAH: Waldo, can you hear me? Wake up, please.

DOCTOR: Yes, well, there's the cave, but there's still no sign of either of
BRIGADIER: What was that?
DOCTOR: There they are! And they've got the boy.
BRIGADIER: It's the blasted monster, and it's right behind them!

JEREMY: Oh, he's awfully heavy.
SARAH: Oh, Waldo, wake up. Try to walk.
DOCTOR: Sarah!
SARAH: Oh, Waldo, try. You've got to try! Please!


SARAH: Please, Waldo, try to walk.
JEREMY: It's no good, I can't hold him.
DOCTOR: Hang on, Sarah, we're coming. Right, let us take him.
DOCTOR: What's that you've got?
BRIGADIER: It's the hand stun gun from the village.
DOCTOR: Ah. No, no, wait a minute. I've got a better idea. (sings) Klokleda partha mennin kletch. Haroon, haroon, haroon.
(The Gargan roars again,drowning out the Doctor.)
BRIGADIER: Stand clear!
(He fires the stun gun. Sounds of wood splintering at the Gargan falls.)
DOCTOR: That's done it.
SARAH: Is he dead?
BRIGADIER: Doesn't seem to be. Not yet, at any rate.
JEREMY: I say, don't you think we ought to get out of here? He might wake up and, suppose he's got a wife or something.
DOCTOR: Yes, a good point. Captain Rudley, can you hear me? Captain Rudley?
SARAH: He's in a bad way, isn't he?
DOCTOR: We'd better make a stretcher.

BRIGADIER: An old Venusian lullaby? Really, Doctor.
DOCTOR: Yeah, well, it's been remarkably efficacious in the past. Unfortunately, the Gargan didn't seem to have the same ear for music as my old friend Aggador. Sarah, careful. There's a nasty dip there.
SARAH: He's still unconscious.
DOCTOR: He's lost a lot of blood.
JEREMY: That gun thingy was certainly efficacious. I mean to say, wallop.
BRIGADIER: Yes. Handy little weapon.
DOCTOR: Not if he's dead, Lethbridge Stewart. Kaido's people will probably throw Onya and the rest of them out of Kimonya. And if he's not, well, he'll track us down and have us for dinner.
BRIGADIER: And if we'd stayed with rock-a-bye baby, he'd be on to the port and walnuts by now.

ONYA: There's very little we can do, I'm afraid.
SARAH: Oh, there must be something.
ONYA: We can't replace the blood he's lost.
DOCTOR: No, I'm afraid Onya's right. We can't even take the bullet out. The shock would be too much.
SARAH: You mean, you mean he's going to die?
ONYA: We'll make him as comfortable as we can, and hope for the best.
(A door opens.)
KAIDO: The meat is roasted. The feast awaits our guests, Mamonya.
SARAH: I couldn't eat a thing, Doctor. I'd rather stay here with Waldo.
DOCTOR: I think you should come, Sarah. The feast is in our honour. We shan't be far away.
BRIGADIER: Stiff upper lip, old girl.

(Around a crackling fire.)
DOCTOR: Your food warms the belly as your welcome warms the heart, Kaido.
SARAH: I'm sure its. Hey, what was that?
DOCTOR: Quiet! Quiet please, everybody.
KAIDO: Shalockt!
BRIGADIER: Good grief, the Gargan!
DOCTOR: Even angrier and hungrier.
ONYA: He's after Waldo Rudley.
DOCTOR: He's after us all.
ONYA: You went into his territory?
DOCTOR: We had no choice.
JEREMY: Well, come on. What are we waiting for?
ONYA: It's no good running away. He'll just follow your scent. How do you think he's found you now?
BRIGADIER: We'll just have to finish him off.
ONYA: If you want to save your lives, that's the last thing to do.
DOCTOR: Wait a minute, I've got it. Onya, would you be so good as to get me a piece of Captain Rudley's clothing?
ONYA: A piece? Yes! Yes, that might work.
SARAH: Oh, what might work?
DOCTOR: And a piece from each of you, please. Anything. A sock, a piece torn off your shirt, that silk scarf of yours you're wearing, Sarah. Anything. Anything at all.
SARAH: Well, what are you going to do?
(Sounds of tearing fabric.)
DOCTOR: I'm going to take a piece of meat. All of you, take a piece of meat as big as you can and make a parcel of it, as I'm doing now with my handkerchief. There.
ONYA: Here you are. His sleeve was almost torn off already.
SARAH: Quickly! Quickly!
JEREMY: I don't think I'm going to be able to stop myself from running away.
DOCTOR: Right, Brigadier. How good are you at lobbing grenades?
BRIGADIER: Pretty good. Here goes. One, two, three! He's eating me. Quick, give me the others. Right, that's you, Sarah.
SARAH: Is this going to work?
DOCTOR: Yes. Yes! He's turning away. He's going. He's satisfied that he's caught his prey.
KAIDO: You have made gifts to the Gargan. You are in truth my brother.
ONYA: Doctor, I think you'd better come and have a look at Waldo.

FREETH: What is it, Tragan? I have an eager young soufflé in front of me, trembling in anticipation of ravishment by my fork. Be brief.
TRAGAN [OC]: Rudley, Chairman. We picked up a contact.
FREETH: Is that all?
TRAGAN [OC]: It was very short, but before he lost consciousness again, he saw the woman Onya Farjen.

ONYA: As I took his shirt sleeve, he opened his eyes for a moment. But he didn't seem to hear me when I spoke to him.
DOCTOR: Captain Rudley? Waldo?
ONYA: Is he getting worse?
DOCTOR: I'm afraid he's gone.
SARAH: What? Oh, no. We should never have left him.
ONYA: There was nothing any of us could do.
DOCTOR: He just, he just went to sleep, Sarah.
SARAH: I wanted to stay with him, and you wouldn't let me! We just went away and left him. We let him die alone.
DOCTOR: You were right, I was wrong.
SARAH: Nobody should die alone. Nobody.

FREETH: Send a gunship.
TRAGAN [OC]: The contact was too short to establish the coordinates, Chairman.
FREETH: Running true to form, are we, Tragan? You ruin my dinner just to tell me that nothing can be done.
TRAGAN [OC]: I didn't say that.
FREETH: These people must be eliminated. Get on with it.

ONYA: It's my fault, Rance. Because the boy was unconscious, I quite forgot that the transmission needles should be deactivated.
RANCE: So we can expect an attack at any time? All our plans are for nothing. We just give up?
DOCTOR: How advanced are your plans for the coup?
RANCE: Just about complete.
BRIGADIER: Well then, why wait? Attack, the best form of defence and all that. Why not go ahead at once?
ONYA: It's not so easy. Yes, we've completed our plans for the take-over of the palace and the Corporation, all the strategic points in fact, but the difficulty is
RANCE: We're here, and they're there. We have to make a preliminary foray to capture enough transport. Or are you suggesting we could ferry three hundred and seventy two people in Onya's fly car?
BRIGADIER: Yes, I see what you mean.
DOCTOR: There might be an answer, you know. If our new friend Kaido could be persuaded to play ball. Do you agree, Brigadier?
BRIGADIER: Eh? Oh! I'm with you. Yes, airborne troops. Splendid notion.
RANCE: Would you care to share it with us?
DOCTOR: How many passengers would one of the Kimonyan bats be persuaded to carry?
BRIGADIER: And what's their maximum range? Given all auxiliary fuel, of course. Nose bags, or whatever.

(In the fly car.)
SARAH: But you can't conquer an entire planet with three hundred and seventy people.
DOCTOR: I don't think conquer's quite the word.
ONYA: No. You see, all the power has been held by one man, Chairman Freeth. In theory, the planet is governed by the Council of Ministers with the President at their head, but they're weak and corrupt, and the President just leaves everything to his son.
SARAH: So everybody just takes orders from Freeth and his gang.
ONYA: Yes. And they'd obey anybody who was in charge. They'll obey us, especially if we have the backing of the President.
SARAH: But surely he won't plot against his own son?
DOCTOR: Oh, he's a good man, if he's made to see what's going on.
ONYA: That's why we're going in ahead, to show him proof of the evils that are being committed in his name.

BRIGADIER: And by the time I've secured our position at Tragan's HQ, your squadron should have effective control of the ER transmitting station. Who will you have as your 2 IC?
RANCE: My what?
BRIGADIER: Oh, I beg your pardon, Mister Rance. Your second in command.
RANCE: I'll take Medan. He's a good man in a fight.
BRIGADIER: Now, the important thing to get across to him is that when you join me for the final takeover at the games stadium, he must keep the transmission going.
JEREMY: But why? I mean, what do the silly old games matter?
BRIGADIER: The whole essence of the strategy is a swift transfer of power while everybody's distracted by the finals of the games. Look, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be liaising with Kaido as bat handlers.
JEREMY: They won't take any notice of me.

ONYA: The panic should have died down by now. I'll land in a public parking place and let us into the palace by the staff entrance. I've still got my Catian Glesay pass, so I'll give you the Onya Farjen key in case we have to separate.
DOCTOR: Could you get us into the Parakon Corporation HQ?
ONYA: Probably. Why?
DOCTOR: Well, there's something missing in the rapine story. It's been nagging at me from the start. And if what I suspect is true, then I'm quite sure you'll have no trouble at all getting the President on our side. Even so, I hope that I'm wrong.
SARAH: Why? What do you suspect?
DOCTOR: Something more horrible that anything we've found out so far.

FREETH: My, my. Aren't we the beau of the ball? The people will think that their President has found the secret of eternal youth. Thank you, Yallett, that will be all.
YALLETT: Very good, sir.
(Door opens.)
PRESIDENT: You're a dear boy, Balog. I wish, though, that my Onya hadn't left me. She really understood how to do my hair for these public occasions.
FREETH: A bond servant. A middle lower or at the most a lower middle. You can't trust these people, Father. No sense of integrity, of loyalty.
PRESIDENT: Mmm, I'm afraid you're right, but Onya of all people. No, I just give thanks that I have you. It's a great comfort to an old man to know that our heritage is in safe hands.
FREETH: Our heritage if not our hair, eh, Father?
(They laugh.)

(Tapping at a keyboard.)
CUSTODIAN: Catian Glesay. No, I don't have your name down for today.
ONYA: No. No, I just have to check a couple of things. I'm doing some research into
CUSTODIAN: Well, if I'd known you were coming, I'd have had the items waiting for you.
ONYA: That's very kind of you, but I do know how to access the data bank.
CUSTODIAN: Well, do let me know if there's anything I can do to help.
SARAH: Oh, my goodness, where do we start? It's the size of Saint Pancras station!
DOCTOR: It's the status quo I'm interested in. How things are now.
ONYA: Then you need the section with the latest ER reports. We'd better get a move on. This could take some time.

FREETH: Ready, Father.
YALLETT: One moment, sir. Your robe is er. That's better.
PRESIDENT: Oh. I'm beginning to dread these public occasions, Balog.
FREETH: You don't have to stay long after the opening march of the combatants. You could come back and loll in here until the awards ceremony.
(Trumpet fanfare.)
FREETH: Your cue, I believe. Now
FREETH: Don't go over the top. Three pirouettes and a double somersault will be quite enough.
(They laugh.)
FREETH: Thank you, Yallett.
(Door opens, roar of the crowd.)

DOCTOR: Now I must say, these ER visual reports are remarkable. I'm there, I'm really there. Or rather, that's how it seems. World after world, like a series of instant package tours, and it's interactive.
ONYA: Is it any help, though?
DOCTOR: Yes, it's beginning to come clear. The Federation planets, the colonies or whatever, form a chain. A string of worlds exporting rapine and importing goods. Flourishing, just as Freeth promised.
SARAH: So, what's worrying you?
DOCTOR: The planets where the supply of rapine is dwindling. The economies are starting to break down. Poverty growing and discontent. The fertility has been eaten up and has to be replaced by massive doses of fertilizer.
ONYA: I could have told you that.
DOCTOR: Of course. It's what I expected. But what is the end term of the progression? And where does the fertilizer come from? Onya, could you patch three ER channels together, so that we could all have a look?
ONYA: Just a matter of patching in.
DOCTOR: Right. Then let's go to Blestinu, where the Tardis first landed.
(Electronic. Gunfire.)
SARAH: Oh! Blimey O'Reilly! Oh!
DOCTOR: We're in the middle of a war. A conventional shooting war. An old-fashioned tribal war.
ONYA: That was a bit too close.
DOCTOR: Yeah. I suspect this is only the tip of the iceberg. A body that's been blown to bits isn't much use to anybody.
SARAH: What do you mean?
DOCTOR: Let's have a look around.
DOCTOR: This is what I was afraid of.
SARAH: There must be hundreds of bodies.
ONYA: Some soldiers, but mostly women and children.
DOCTOR: Yeah, refugees. Look over there to the left. A mechanical lifter loading them into a truck. Can you see the driver? Look at him, he's wearing a gas mask.
ONYA: And the truck has the badge of the Parakon Corporation. I understand.
SARAH: Well, I don't. What are you getting at, Doctor?
DOCTOR: Can you take any more?
SARAH: Well, I must!
ONYA: A queue of Parakon trucks.
SARAH: And they're. Oh, my God! They're tipping the bodies into that machine.
DOCTOR: A processing plant. And coming out the other end, all neatly bagged and labelled, is fertilizer for the planet next up the line.
ONYA: Switch it off. We've seen enough.
ONYA: You were right, Doctor. When the President finds out that this, this, this nightmare is how his dream has ended. Oh, give me that tape. I must go to him at once.
SARAH: But why do they keep a record of it all? It's evidence against them.
DOCTOR: Why did President Nixon keep the Watergate tapes? Why did the Nazis keep neat registers of the horrors they perpetrated? They think they're all powerful. Now, if we only knew where Freeth was lurking.
TRAGAN: Stay where you are! Put your hands in the air! You are surrounded!
DOCTOR: Ah, Mister Tragan. The very man.

OOTD: Air patrol, Officer Of The Day speaking.
EL OPS [OC]: Echo location. We're picking up a massive flying object, sir. Could be another flying car demonstration.
OOTD: Hang on, I'll have a look. I see them. No, it's just a flock of migrating bats. They're early this year. Wait a minute! They're carrying people on their backs, with guns! Emergency! Emergency!
(Alarms sound.)

(To the sound of flapping leathery wings.)
JEREMY: Oh, honestly I really do think I'm going to be sick.
BRIGADIER: Nonsense! Just a few pre-battle butterflies, that's all. Soon be in the thick of it. Concentrate on that.
JEREMY: That's what's making me feel sick.
BRIGADIER: Here they come. By Jove, they're coming on fast.
KAIDO: Too fast.
BRIGADIER: You lead, Kaido.
KAIDO: You'll see.
BRIGADIER: Hold on tight to the fur.
(The rat-a-tat of machine gun fire.)
KAIDO: Kimonya children chase each other on baby bats. We dance in the sky like leaves in the wind.
BRIGADIER: All right, chaps, let them have it!
KAIDO: We'll go down among the big huts. They cannot chase us there.
BRIGADIER: Can you land my lot on the roof of that one? The large one.

TRAGAN: Get in there.
DOCTOR: Where is this place?
TRAGAN: You're in the security section of the stadium, where we bring the troublemakers.
(Door opens.)
FREETH: This had better be. Well, well, well.
TRAGAN: Two sitting ducks, Chairman.
FREETH: Congratulations. I must admit I had the utmost lack of confidence in you.
TRAGAN: I'm afraid the others are still missing, including the woman who pretended to be the dead Catian Glesay.
FREETH: No matter. This is the one I want. I have been made to look a fool, Doctor.
DOCTOR: Appearances are not always deceptive.
FREETH: A cheap jibe, Doctor. And one that is going to kill you. You have given me a simply splendid idea.
DOCTOR: I can't wait.
FREETH: Well, since you're in the market for making people look like fools, I thought, you see, it's been an age-old custom for at least five years that before the championship final, the audience is given an hors d'oeuvre, an antipasto, a little snackette, so to speak. Two fierce gentlemen come on dressed as clowns to perform a, a send up? Is that right? A send up of the final. And I thought, what a spiffing wheeze if you, Doctor, were to be understudy, so to speak. And to make sure that you lose, we'll put you up against Mister Jenhegger, who is odds-on favourite to win the championship. Are you with me so far?
DOCTOR: And if I refuse?
FREETH: Ah, but you won't. Every time you jib, we shall bring you a piece of your lady friend. Only teensy weensy pieces, of course. We're not barbarians.
DOCTOR: You'll leave Sarah alone.
FREETH: Entirely up to you, old boy.
TRAGAN: You haven't said anything about the toad.
FREETH: Oh! Nor I have. The cherry on the icing, the toad is. You see, the fighting circle is in the middle of a, well, I think you would call it a catwalk, over a pit. And in the pit, and this is where the fun comes in, is a toad. The giant butcher toad, they call him, though he's not so big as all that. About the size of a bull, I suppose. Yes, a small bull. And you see, he simply adores tearing people into bite sized munchies and eating them. Do please take two or three seconds to make up your mind.
DOCTOR: Well? What are you waiting for?

(Door opens.)
ONYA: Refreshments for the President.
YALLETT: I didn't order. Oh, never mind. Thank you.
PRESIDENT: Did I hear? Is that you, Onya?
ONYA: Yes, President.
PRESIDENT: Oh, my Onya, you've come back. You've come back to me.

(In whispers.)
BRIGADIER: Now listen, everybody. Slight change of plan. Seems Tragan's people have concentrated themselves in the communications area, which is here. The recce suggests that if we approach from here, we can take cover round the perimeter here and here, and with any luck give them the surprise of their lives. Are you listening, Jeremy?
JEREMY: What? Oh, yes. Yes, jolly good idea.
BRIGADIER: Off we go, then.

LEXHAN: All patrols, all patrols. Captain Superintendent Lexhan here. Remain on full alert. It seems that air wing have dispersed the demonstration, but groups of armed dissidents may be encountered anywhere in the city.
BRIGADIER: (sotto) Most of them have got ER headsets on. They must be watching the games.
LEXHAN: It is of the utmost importance that the games must not be interrupted. Right, get on with it.
BRIGADIER: (sotto) Must be in position by now. Good luck, Jeremy. (loud) Freeze! Hands above your heads!
LEXHAN: He shouldn't be there! Guards, fire.
(The shooting starts.)
BRIGADIER: Everybody down.
BRIGADIER: Attack, attack, attack.
(Returning weapons fire.)
BRIGADIER: Cease firing! Well done, everybody. All right, Jeremy, you can come out now.

TRAGAN: Sit down, Miss Smith, please. There's nothing you can do.
SARAH: Can't I at least go somewhere to watch the fight?
TRAGAN: And escape, and spoil all the Chairman's plans? No, no, my dear. You must stay here in case we need you. Or at least a part of you.
SARAH: What about ER? Can't I see it on ER?
TRAGAN: Unfortunately there's just the one set, and I need it myself. However, if you sit down like a good girl, I'll tell you what's going on.
(Electronic. Cheering crowds.)
TRAGAN: Nothing much at the moment. They must have announced the fight by now. I expect the Doctor's. Ah! Here comes Jenhegger now into the Presidential box.
(The crowd roars its approval.)
SARAH: The President's box?
TRAGAN: Yes, of course. They always introduce the finalists from the President's box, and they can step straight onto the catwalk from there. Jenhegger looks like an angry ape. I expect he's annoyed at being made to fight a clown. So much the better. Ah, here comes the Chairman and the Doctor.
FREETH: My friends. What can I say? We all know Jenhegger didn't have a dad, but even he must have had a mum. And here she is, to give us all a glimpse of the happy home life of the Jenheggers!
TRAGAN: Well, a glimpse is all we're likely to have. He's got a broad sword and a shield, and the Doctor's got a rolling pin.
SARAH: That's not fair!
TRAGAN: Oh no, it's not, is it. They're out on the catwalk now, and the gates shut.
(A bell rings.)

(Jenhegger's voice is very deep and slow.)
JENHEGGER: Clown, you are dead.
DOCTOR: Yeah, well, wait. You'll not attack before I'm ready?
JENHEGGER: Oh no. We kill each other, but we do not cheat.
DOCTOR: Thank you.
JENHEGGER: Why do you take off your clothes?
DOCTOR: If I'm to face death, it will be as myself. Besides, these ridiculous boots'd trip me up.
FREETH: Doctor, stop that!
JENHEGGER: The rolling pin has hit the toad. You're making it very angry.
DOCTOR: I think I'm making Chairman Freeth even angrier.
FREETH: Jenhegger, what are you waiting for? Kill him!
DOCTOR: Right. Ready.

PRESIDENT: Why are you telling me all this, Onya? It can't be true. Yet. Do you hate me so much?
ONYA: Of course it's a shock to you, but it's true. I can prove every word.
PRESIDENT: But how could my son have been so deceived?
ONYA: Oh, President Freeth, he is the most guilty one of all.

JENHEGGER: Come and fight, coward. Come and taste the sharpness of Jenhegger's sword. Or are you too terrified to move?
DOCTOR: It may be your custom to talk to one another before engaging, but I concede very little advantage to you on this occasion. While teaching
JENHEGGER: Die then.
JENHEGGER: Oh! For that alone I kill you.
(They fight. It sounds like a combination of Jenhegger missing with his sword as the Doctor dodges about landing Venusian Akido blows.)
JENHEGGER: Stand still! Fight like a man, curse you.
DOCTOR: Ah, thank you for your kind invitation. Oh, forgive me if I have. Oh, well done. That was a beauty. Hai!

SARAH: What's happening? Let me see. Oh, please let me see!
TRAGAN: Sit down, Miss Smith!
SARAH: Ow! Oh!
TRAGAN: Oh! You little vixen.
SARAH: Let me go. Oh, let me go!
TRAGAN: Hold still. I should have manacled you to the wall in the first place.
(Weapons fire outside.)
TRAGAN: What's going on?
(Door opens.)
BRIGADIER: Get away from there. Oh no, you don't. You'll get a fair trial, Tragan. Put him in one of those cells out there.
TRAGAN: You won't get away with this!
BRIGADIER: Are you all right, Miss Smith?
SARAH: Oh, yes, yes.
BRIGADIER: We'll soon have you out of those things.
SARAH: No never mind about me. Jeremy, see what's happening to the Doctor.
SARAH: The ER set, there on the floor.
JEREMY: Oh, sure.
JEREMY: Oh, my goodness. I'm having a fight with the Doctor! Argh! He's twisting my wrist so hard that I've dropped my sword. I've thrown him off and, oh no. Oh Lord! Ow!
SARAH: Change the channel.
JEREMY: I'm sorry? I
SARAH: Change it. Oh, give it to me.
SARAH: The Doctor's rolling away from him and going for the sword. He's got it! And the gladiator's right on the edge and about to go over, and. The Doctor's grabbed him. He's saved his life!
FREETH: Soldiers, shoot them both!
PRESIDENT: No! The killing will stop! I, your President, order it. Doctor, Jenhegger, your fight is at an end.
SARAH: They're coming back to the President's box.

JENHEGGER: You could have killed me. Why didn't you kill me?
DOCTOR: My dear fellow, what possible reason could I have for doing such a thing?
(The gates open.)
ONYA: Are you all right, Doctor?
DOCTOR: Ah, a little puffed, I must admit.
PRESIDENT: Doctor, I'm a blind and foolish old man. Can you ever forgive me?
DOCTOR: The past is dead, President, and I am still alive.
FREETH: You're quite right, Father. You are a foolish blind old man. It's time you opened your eyes. You're not in charge any more, I am. Stand out of the way.
PRESIDENT: What are you going to do?
FREETH: Guard! Give me that gun. Goodbye, Doctor.
JENHEGGER: No! You shall not. He is a good man.
FREETH: No, no, put me down! Put me down! Aieeee!
(Screams and sounds of a creature munching.)
ONYA: President, don't look .
PRESIDENT: I've turned away my face too many times. If I had not, I might still have a son.

BRIGADIER: Goodbye, Onya. I wish we could have come to know one another better.
ONYA: Oh, you forget. Whether as Chairman of the Corporation or as Prime Minister, I shall have to come to Earth and sort out Parakon's affairs.
BRIGADIER: Oh, of course. Space World and all that.
ONYA: Exactly.
BRIGADIER: Well, it's only au revoir, then. Good. Good.
DOCTOR: Right, where have those youngsters got to?
BRIGADIER: They may be in the Tardis already. I'll have a look around.
ONYA: I think Sarah went to find Jeremy.
DOCTOR: Are the clouds beginning to clear?
ONYA: There's a small patch of blue on the horizon. If I'm supported in the election
SARAH: I've found him. Oh, sorry.
DOCTOR: Where was he?
SARAH: In the kitchen, where else?
JEREMY: She wouldn't even let me finish my breakfast.
SARAH: Well, you had one already.
ONYA: Well, goodbye, Doctor.
DOCTOR: Whatever happens, Mamonya, always remember that you are Sky Born, as we all are.
ONYA: Thank you. I shall.
DOCTOR: Goodbye.
SARAH: Where do you keep your teapot, Doctor? I could murder a cup of tea.
(The Tardis dematerialises.)