Doctor Who s02e02 Episode Script

Come now, Father, you should know better.
You're not welcome here, and especially not today.
I've got no time to start old arguments.
We want only one thing.
And what would that be? This house.
You want the house? We will take the house.
Would you like my wife while you're at it? If you won't stand aside, we'll take it by force.
By what power? The hand of God? No, the fist of man.
What in the name of heaven? My lady? What's in there? What is it, what's under that canvas? Father, answer me.
What's in there? May God forgive me.
What d'you think of this? For the late 1970s you'd be better off in a bin bag.
Listen.
Ian Dury and the Blockheads.
Number one in 1979.
You're a punk! # It's good to be a lunatic.
.
.
# That's what you are, a big old punk, with a bit of rockabilly thrown in.
Want to go and see him? You mean in concert? What else is a Tardis for? I can take you to the Battle of Trafalgar, the Antigravity Olympics, Caesar crossing the Rubicon, or Ian Dury at the Top Rank, Sheffield, England, Earth, 21st November 1979, what d'you think? Sheffield it is! Hold on tight! # Hit me with your rhythm stick Hit me, hit me.
.
.
# Stop! China invades Vietnam, The Muppet Movie, love that film.
Margaret Thatcher, urgh! Skylab falls to Earth, with a little help from me.
Nearly took off my thumb, and I like my thumb.
I need my thumb, I'm very attached to.
.
.
my thumb.
You'll explain your presence, and the nakedness of this girl.
Are we in Scotland? How can you be ignorant of that? Oh, I'm dazed and confused.
I've been chasing this wee naked child over hill and over dale.
In't that right, ye.
.
.
timorous beastie? Och, aye.
I've been oot and aboot.
No, don't do that.
Hoots mon? No, really, don't.
Really.
Identify yourself, sir.
I'm Dr James McCrimmon, from the township of.
.
.
Balamory.
I have my credentials, if I may.
.
.
? As you can see, a doctorate from the University of Edinburgh.
I trained under Dr Bell himself.
Let them approach.
I don't think that's wise, ma'am.
Let them approach.
You will approach the carriage.
And show all due deference.
Rose, might I introduce Her Majesty Queen Victoria, Empress of India, and Defender of the Faith.
Rose Tyler, ma'am.
And my apologies.
.
.
for being so naked.
I've had five daughters, it's nothing to me.
But you, Doctor - show me these credentials.
Why didn't you say so immediately? It states clearly here that you have been appointed by the Lord Provost as my protector.
Does it? Yes, it does.
Good, good! Then let me ask, why's your Majesty travelling by road, when there's a train all the way to Aberdeen? A tree on the line.
An accident? I am the Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, everything around me tends to be planned.
An assassination attempt? What, seriously? There's people out to kill ya? I'm used to staring down the barrel of a gun.
Sir Robert MacLeish lives but ten miles hence.
We've sent word ahead.
He'll shelter us, then we'll reach Balmoral tomorrow.
This doctor and his "timorous beastie" will come with us.
Yes, ma'am.
We'd better get moving, it's almost nightfall.
Indeed.
And there are stories of wolves in these parts.
Fanciful tales, intended to scare the children.
But good for the blood, I think.
Drive on.
It's funny, cos you say assassination, and you just think of Kennedy and stuff.
Not 'er.
1879, she's had, ooh, six attempts on her life.
And I'll tell you something else, we just met Queen Victoria! I know! What a laugh! She was just sitting there.
Like a stamp.
I want her to say, "We are not amused.
" Bet you five quid I can make her say it.
If I gambled, it'd be an abuse of my privilege as a traveller in time.
Ten quid.
Done.
I can't do this.
It's treason.
Then your wife will suffer the consequences.
And believe me, Sir Robert, she will be devoured.
Your Majesty.
Sir Robert.
My apologies for the emergency.
And how is Lady Isobel? She's.
.
.
indisposed, I'm afraid.
She's gone to Edinburgh for the season.
She's taken the cook.
The kitchens are barely stocked.
I wouldn't blame your Majesty if you wanted to ride on.
No! I've had quite enough carriage exercise, and this is.
.
.
charming.
.
.
if rustic.
It's my first visit to this house.
My late husband spoke of it often.
The Torchwood Estate.
Now, shall we go inside? And please excuse the naked girl.
Sorry! She's a feral child.
I bought her for sixpence in old London town.
It was her or the Elephant Man.
Thinks he's funny, but I'm so not amused.
What do you think, ma'am? It hardly matters.
Shall we proceed? So close.
Mackeson and Ramsay, you will escort the property, hurry up.
Yes, sir.
So what's in there, then? Property of the Crown.
You will dismiss any further thoughts, sir.
The rest of you, go to the rear.
Assume your designated positions.
You heard the orders.
Positions! Sir.
Shhhhh.
Guard it with your life.
This, I take it, is the famous endeavour.
All my father's work.
Built by hand, in his final years.
It became something of an obsession.
He spent his money on this, rather than caring for the house, or himself.
I wish I'd met him.
I like him.
That thing's beautiful.
Can I.
.
.
? Help yourself.
What did he model it on? I know nothing about it.
To be honest, most of us thought him.
.
.
shall we say, eccentric.
Hah! I wish now I'd spent more time with him.
And listened to his stories.
It's a bit rubbish.
How many prisms has it got? Way too many! The magnification's gone right over the top, that's a stupid.
.
.
am I being rude again? Yep.
But it's pretty! It's very pretty.
And the imagination of it should be applauded.
I thought you might disapprove, Your Majesty.
Star gazing.
Isn't that a bit fanciful? You could easily.
.
.
not be amused, or something.
No? This device surveys the infinite work of God.
What could be finer? Sir Robert's father was an example to us all.
A polymath, steeped in astronomy and the sciences, yet equally well versed in folklore and fairytales.
Stars and magic.
I like him more and more.
Oh, my late husband enjoyed his company.
Prince Albert himself was acquainted with many rural superstitions, coming as he did from Saxe-Coburg.
That's Bavaria.
When Albert was told about your local wolf, he was transported.
What's this wolf, then? It's just a story.
Then tell it.
It's said.
.
.
Excuse me, sir.
.
.
perhaps her Majesty's party could repair to their rooms.
It's almost dark.
Of course.
Yes, of course.
And then supper.
And could we find some clothes for Miss Tyler? I'm tired of nakedness.
It's not amusing, is it? Sir Robert, your wife must have left some clothes.
See to it.
We shall dine at seven, and talk some more of this wolf.
After all, there is a full moon tonight.
So there is, ma'am.
Ughhh! They came through the house.
In silence.
Took the steward, and the master, and my lady.
Listen, I've got a friend, he's called the Doctor.
He'll know what to do.
Come with me.
Oh, but I can't, miss.
What's your name? Flora.
Flora, we'll be safe.
There's more people arrived downstairs, they can help us.
I promise.
Come on.
OK? Come on.
Oh, miss, I did warn you! He's not dead.
I don't think.
He must be drugged, or something.
Agggh! Agggh! Your companion begs an apology.
Her clothing has somewhat delayed her.
That's all right, save her a bit of ham.
The feral child could probably eat it raw.
Ha! Very wise, ma'am ! Very witty! Slightly witty, perhaps.
I know you rarely get the chance to dine with me, Captain, but don't get too excited.
I shall contain my wit in case I do you further injury.
Yes, ma'am.
Sorry, ma'am.
We're all waiting on Sir Robert.
Come, sir.
You promised us a tale of nightmares.
Indeed.
Since my husband's death, I find myself with more of a taste for supernatural fiction.
You must miss him.
Very much.
Oh, completely.
And that's the charm of a ghost story, isn't it? Not the scares and the chills, that's just for children, but the.
.
.
hope of some contact with the great beyond.
We all want some message from that place.
It's the Creator's greatest mystery, that we're allowed no such consolation.
The dead stay silent.
And we must wait.
But come, begin your tale, Sir Robert.
There's a chill in the air, the wind is howling through the eaves.
Tell us of monsters.
Don't make a sound.
They said if we scream or shout, then he will slaughter us.
But.
.
.
he's in a cage.
He's a prisoner, he's the same as us.
He's nothing like us.
That creature's not mortal.
The story goes back 300 years.
Every full moon, the howling rings through the valley.
Next morning, livestock is found, ripped apart and.
.
.
devoured.
Tales like this just disguise the work of thieves.
Steal a sheep, blame a wolf, simple as that.
But sometimes a child goes missing.
Once in a generation, a boy will vanish from his homestead.
Don't, child.
Who are you? Don't enrage him.
Where are you from? You're not from Earth.
What planet are you from? Ohhh.
Intelligence.
Where were you born? This body? Ten miles away.
A weakling, heartsick boy stolen away at night by the Brethren for my.
.
.
cultivation.
I carved out his soul and sat in his heart.
Are there descriptions of the creature? Oh, yes, Doctor.
Drawings, and wood carvings.
And it's not merely a wolf.
It's more than that.
This is a man who becomes an animal.
A werewolf? All right, so the body's human.
What about you? The thing inside? So far from home.
If you want to get back home, we can help.
Why would I leave this place? A world of industry, of workforce, and warfare.
I could turn it to such purpose.
How would you do that? I would migrate to the holy monarch.
You mean Queen Victoria? With one bite, I would pass into her blood.
And then it begins, the Empire of the Wolf.
Many questions.
Look! Inside your eyes.
You've seen it too.
Seen what? The wolf.
There is something of the wolf about you.
I don't know what you mean.
You burnt like the Sun.
But all I require is the Moon.
My father didn't treat it as a story.
He said it was fact.
He even claimed to have communed with the beast, to have learned its purpose.
I should have listened.
His work was hindered.
He made enemies.
There's a monastery in the Glen of St Catherine.
The Brethren opposed my father's investigations.
Perhaps they thought his work ungodly.
That's what I thought.
But now I wonder.
.
.
what if they had a different reason for wanting the story kept quiet? What if they turned from God and worshipped the wolf? And what if they were with us right now? Moonlight.
.
.
All of you, stop looking at it.
Flora, don't look, listen to me.
Grab hold of the chain, and pull! Come on! With me! Pull! We can't, miss, we can't! The Brethren.
.
.
I said pull! Stop your whining and listen to me.
And that means you, Your Ladyship! Now, come on! Pull! What is the meaning of this? Sorry, they've got my wife.
Where's Rose? Where is she? Sir Robert! Come on! Quick! Pull.
.
.
One, two, three, pull! Tell me, sir, I demand to know your intention.
Lupus deus est.
.
.
What is it that you want? The throne.
Roarrrrrr! Roarrrrr! One! Two! Three! Pull! One.
.
.
two.
.
.
three.
.
.
Pull! Where the hell have you been? Oh, that's beautiful.
Get out! All of you.
Out! Out! Out! Out! Out! Come on! I take it, sir, that you halted my train, to bring me here.
We've waited so long for one of your journeys to coincide with the Moon.
Then you have waited in vain.
After six attempts on my life, I am hardly unprepared.
Oh, I don't think so, woman.
The correct form of address is "Your Majesty".
BANG At arms.
.
.
Lady Isobel, take the girls! Get them out through the kitchen.
Robert, I can't leave.
What will you do? I must defend Her Majesty.
Now, don't think of me, just go.
All of you! At my side! Come on! Could be any species triggered by wavelengths.
Did it say what it wanted? The Queen, the crown, the throne, you name it.
GROWLING Fire! Fire! It won't open! They've sealed us in.
Oh, my lady! Look.
They'll never let us out.
They mean for us to die! Don't say that, Flora.
All right, men, we should retreat upstairs.
Come.
I'll not retreat.
There's no creature on God's Earth could survive such an assault.
I'm telling you, come upstairs! I'm telling you, sir, I will sleep well tonight with that thing's hide upon my wall.
It must have crawled away to die.
.
.
There's nothing we can do.
Stop! Did they kill it? Your Majesty? Your Majesty! Sir Robert? What's happening? I heard such terrible noises.
Your Majesty, we've got to go.
But what of Father Angelo, is he still here? Captain Reynolds disposed of him.
The front door's no good, it's blocked.
You'll have to leg it out of a window.
Excuse my manners, ma'am, but I shall go first, the better to assist Her Majesty.
A noble sentiment.
Any chance you can hurry? BANG! BANG! BANG! They want us to stay inside.
Do they know who I am? Yeah! That's why they want you.
The wolf's lined you up for.
.
.
a biting.
Now stop this talk.
There can't be an actual wolf.
What do we do? We.
.
.
run.
Is that it? Got any silver bullets? Not on me, no.
There we are, we run.
Your Majesty, I recommend a vigorous jog.
Good for the health.
Come on! Come on! I'll take this position and hold it.
You keep moving, for God's sake.
Your Majesty, I went to look for the property, it was taken.
The chest was empty.
I have it, it's safe.
Then remove yourself, ma'am.
Doctor, you stand as Her Majesty's protector.
And you, Sir Robert, you're a traitor to the Crown.
Bullets can't stop it.
They'll buy you time.
Now run! Barricade the door.
Wait a minute, shh, wait.
It's stopped.
It's gone.
Listen.
.
.
(Is this the only door? ) Yes, sir.
No! I don't understand.
What's stopping it? Something inside this room.
What is it? Why can't it get in? Tell you what, though.
What? Werewolf.
I know! Uh! You all right? I'm OK, yeah.
I'm sorry, ma'am.
It's all my fault.
I should have sent you away.
I tried to suggest something was wrong.
I thought you might notice.
Was there nothing strange about my household staff? They were bald, athletic.
Your wife's away, I thought you were happy.
I tell you what, ma'am.
I bet you're not amused now.
Do you think this funny? No, I'm sorry.
What, exactly, I pray, tell me someone, please, what, exactly, is that creature? You'd call it a werewolf, but it's more of a lupine wavelength "haemovariform".
Should I trust you, sir? You, who change your voice so easily? What happened to your accent? Oh, right, sorry.
.
.
I'll not have it.
No, sir, not you, not that thing, none of it.
This is not my world.
Mistletoe! They're all garlanded in mistletoe, and the wolf doesn't attack them.
Who brought this into the kitchen? Must have been the Brethren.
Gather it up.
Quickly! Every last scrap.
Quick, now! Mistletoe.
Did your father put that there? I don't know.
I suppose.
On the other door too, though a carving wouldn't be enough.
I wonder.
.
.
Viscum album.
The oil of the mistletoe, it's been worked into the wood like a varnish.
How clever was your dad? I love him ! Powerful stuff, mistletoe, bursting with viscotoxins.
And the wolf's allergic to it? Or it thinks it is.
Maybe it's the way the monks control the wolf.
Nevertheless, that creature won't give up, Doctor.
And we still don't possess an actual weapon.
Your father got all the brains.
Being rude again? Good, I meant that one.
You want weapons? We're in a library.
Books! Best weapons in the world.
This room's the greatest arsenal we could have.
Arm yourself! There's no sound of the wolf, my lady.
Perhaps it's gone.
And perhaps it's toying with us.
My husband's up there, if there's any chance he's still alive, then by God, I'll assist him.
Look up biology, zoology.
There might be something on wolves.
.
.
What about this? A book on mistletoe! We need magic.
If we could make explosives.
.
.
That's the sort of thing.
Ooh! Look what your old dad found.
Something fell to Earth.
A spaceship? Shooting star.
"In the year of our Lord 1540, under the reign of King James V, an almighty fire did burn in the pit.
" That's the Glen of Saint Catherine, by the monastery.
That's 300 years ago.
What's it been waiting for? Maybe a single cell survived.
Adapting slowly, down the generations, it survived, through the humans, host after host after host.
Why does it want the throne? That's what it wants, it said so.
The Empire of the Wolf.
Imagine it.
The Victorian age, accelerated - starships and missiles fuelled by coal and driven by steam.
.
.
leaving history devastated in its wake.
Sir Robert, if I am to die here.
.
.
Don't say that, Your Majesty.
I would destroy myself, rather than let that creature infect me.
But that's no matter.
I ask only that you might find some place of safekeeping for something far older and more precious than myself.
Hardly time to worry about your valuables.
Thank you for your opinion.
But there is nothing more valuable than this.
Oh, Your Majesty.
Is that the Koh-i-Noor? Oh, yes.
The greatest diamond in the world.
Given to me as the spoils of war.
Perhaps its legend is now coming true.
It is said that whoever owns it must surely die.
That's true of anything, if you wait long enough.
Can I? That is so beautiful.
How much is that worth? They say, the wages of the entire planet, for a whole week.
My mum'd be fighting the wolf off with her bare hands for that thing.
And she'd win.
Where is the wolf? I don't trust this silence.
Why d'you travel with it? My annual pilgrimage.
I'm taking it to Hellier and Carew, the royal jewellers, at Hazlehead.
The stone needs recutting.
But it's perfect.
My late husband never thought so.
There's a fact.
Prince Albert kept on having it cut down.
Used to be 40% bigger than this.
But he was never happy.
Kept on cutting and cutting.
He always said the shine was not quite right.
But he died with it still unfinished.
Unfinished.
.
.
Oh, yes! There's a lot of unfinished business here.
His father's research.
.
.
and your husband, ma'am, he came here.
Hold on, all these separate things, they're not separate at all, they're connected.
My head! This house, it's a trap for you, is that right? Obviously.
That's what the wolf intended.
But what if there's a trap inside the trap? Explain.
What if his father and your husband weren't just telling each other stories? They dared to imagine all this was true.
Laying the real trap, not for you, but for the wolf.
That wolf there.
Out! Out! Out! Out! Gotta get to the observatory! Good shot! It was mistletoe.
Isobel.
.
.
Now get back downstairs.
Keep yourself safe.
My love.
Now go.
Girls, come with me.
Down the back stairs back to the kitchens.
Come on.
The observatory's this way.
No mistletoe here, cos your father wanted the wolf inside.
Is there any way of barricading this? Do your work, and I'll defend it.
If we could bind them shut.
.
.
I said, I'll find you time, sir.
Now get inside.
Good man.
Your Majesty, the diamond.
For what purpose? The purpose it was designed for.
Rose.
.
.
Lift it.
Come on.
It's not the right time for stargazing.
.
.
Oh, yes, it is.
.
.
I committed treason for you.
But now my wife will remember me with honour.
Thought you said this doesn't work.
It doesn't work as a telescope.
It's a light chamber.
.
.
it's like a weapon.
We've just got to power it up.
With what? There's no electricity.
Moonlight? But the wolf needs moonlight, it's made by moonlight.
You're 70% water - you can still drown.
Come on! Come on! Make it brighter.
Let me go.
Your Majesty? Did it bite you? No, it's.
.
.
it's a cut, that's all.
If that thing bit you.
.
.
It was a splinter of wood when the door came apart.
It's nothing.
Let me see.
It is nothing.
By the power invested in me by the Church and the state, I dub thee Sir Doctor of Tardis.
By the power invested in me by the Church and the state, I dub thee Dame Rose of the Powell Estate.
You may stand.
Many thanks, ma'am.
They're never gonna believe this back home.
Your Majesty, you said last night about receiving no message from the great beyond.
I think your husband cut that diamond to save your life.
He's protecting you even now, ma'am, from beyond the grave.
Indeed.
Then you may think on this also, that I am not amused.
Yes! Not remotely amused.
And henceforth, I banish you.
I'm sorry? I have rewarded you, Sir Doctor, and now you are exiled from this empire, never to return.
I don't know what you are, or where you're from but I know that you consort with stars and magic, and think it fun.
But your world is steeped in terror, and blasphemy, and death, and I will not allow it.
You will leave these shores.
And you will reflect, I hope, on how you came to stray so far from all that is good, and how much longer you may survive this terrible life.
Now leave my world.
And never return.
Whoa.
Cheers, Dougal! The funny thing is, Queen Victoria actually did suffer a mutation of the blood, it's historical fact.
She was haemophiliac.
But it's always been a mystery.
She didn't inherit it, it came from nowhere.
You're saying that's a wolf bite? Well, maybe haemophilia's just a Victorian euphemism.
For werewolf? Could be.
Queen Victoria's a werewolf? Could be.
And her children had the disease.
Maybe she gave them a quick nip.
So the Royal Family are werewolves? Well, maybe not yet.
A single wolf cell could take a hundred years to mature.
Might be ready by, ooh.
.
.
early 21st century.
Nah, that's just ridiculous.
Mind you.
Princess Anne.
.
.
I'll say no more.
And if you think about it, they're very private.
They plan everything in advance.
They could schedule themselves around the Moon! And.
.
.
they like hunting.
They love blood sports.
Oh, my God! They're werewolves! What will you do, will you stay here? I don't think I could.
I'd sell it.
Or pull this place down.
Although we may not speak of these events in public, they will not be forgotten.
I promise you that.
Your husband's sacrifice, the ingenuity of his father, they will live on.
But how? I saw last night that Great Britain has enemies beyond imagination.
And we must defend our borders on all sides.
I propose.
.
.
an institute, to investigate these strange happenings, and to fight them.
I would call it Torchwood.
The Torchwood Institute.
And if this Doctor should return, then he should beware.
Because Torchwood will be waiting.
Good morning, class.
Are we sitting comfortably? It turns out all the kitchen staff were replaced.
There's something going on.
May I introduce Miss Sarah-Jane Smith? Nice to meet you.
Nice to meet you! Yes, very nice! You were not permitted to leave your station during a sitting.
Boy in class, got a knowledge way beyond Earth.
K-9! Our time has come, my brothers.
Today we shall become gods.