Doctor Who (1963) s18e03 Episode Script
The Leisure Hive, Part Three
Are you sure about this, Romana? The most it'll do is knock off 10 or 12 years.
Right.
Then I'll take my chance.
- We should be recording this.
- I forgot to switch it through.
- You'll be needed here.
- Think what this will mean.
- A few years' gain for an individual.
- We're ready, then? I'll start the warm-up now.
Doctor.
Stop! We forgot something.
- What? It's too late.
- Get the Doctor out.
I can't! - Was I in there long? Felt like centuries.
- Are you all right? Yes, I think so.
A bit weak.
Why? What are you all staring at? - Have you seen yourself? - No, not recently.
Why? Should I Is that me? What happened? - I don't know.
- I was going to check something in there.
I can't remember what.
- The Doctor is unwell.
Give him a cabin.
- And confine him there.
He's still on trial for murder.
Confine them both.
Very well.
I declare a limitation on them both.
Hardin, you will come with me.
- Am I leaning too heavily on you? - No, Mena.
The distance between us seems to have lessened again.
What went wrong with the experiment? I felt so sorry for you.
- For me? - And for the Argolin, of course.
It seemed to offer a last chance for us.
Technology offered us hope once before, after the war.
Hope of survival? How? It isn't something we talk of to outsiders.
It isn't the end.
I know I can make it work.
Don't despair.
Despair is the death of hope and all our hope died years ago.
The Helmet of Theron.
His ambition laid waste the planet.
We keep it to remind us to live in humility.
- To live, yes.
- And to die with grace.
Please, Hardin.
Send for my attendants.
Your movements will be unrestricted if you keep to the programme.
- We're being programmed? - Vargos will explain.
You may be in certain areas at certain times.
The collars will become uncomfortable if you depart from the programme.
Or try to remove them.
This must be solved before dawn.
The time is very close.
- Vargos? - Yes? Somehow the alien's trivial experiment is degrading the segmentation.
- You get power from the Generator, Hardin? - That's right.
My guides want your help in removing it.
It can't interfere with our developments.
- What do you mean? - I'm not discussing that with an alien.
Besides, the tachyonic facilities are for scientific research, not fraud.
Fraud? My guides have been through Stimson's effects.
The experiments were rigged.
Is this true? I was on the verge of a breakthrough.
I needed funds.
There was real hope for us and you allowed Stimson to cheat us? But the tests I made here with Romana weren't fakes.
- We had negative time images.
It worked! - Tell that to the Doctor.
Give me more time and I can prove it.
Let him have his wish.
Give him access to the laboratory.
- And Romana.
I must have her help.
- I don't trust this.
It's a conspiracy.
Romana will stay where she is.
Work on your own, Hardin.
I'm sick of being old.
There must be some way of reversing the process.
Temporal asymmetry.
We'll have to get back to the Generator.
Your condition's unstable.
- Pangol's very young.
- Pangol? Yes.
And everyone else is old, except Pangol.
And he runs the Generator.
When you were fitting the Schrodinger oscillator, did you see two baryon shields? - Why two? - I don't know.
I didn't have time to look.
An alternative function? There must be a second circuit doing something we know nothing about.
Yes.
Yes.
When the Chairmanship passes to you, you'll moderate your views.
- The Ancient Greeks believed in moderation.
- Athens was the seat of wisdom.
And it fell to the might of Rome.
What do you want, Earthling? - Madam Chairman.
- Don't be alarmed, Mr Brock.
I'm assured my termination is proceeding normally.
The shuttles have been packed to capacity with visitors leaving.
Two unfortunate accidents in one day.
Two murders.
An exodus.
The value of this Foamasi offer must be falling by the hour.
- They may withdraw completely.
- Good.
- Have you a suggestion, Mr Brock? - A public execution, perhaps? I had something more constructive in mind.
So have I.
Who cares if an alien doctor lives or dies? Mr Brock says you may help by looking at the Recreation Generator.
It's astonishing how far the Argolins have come.
These are toys.
My experiments are the first glimpse of any real use for the Generator.
- Really? Are you sure of that? - Of course.
The Argolins have nothing to show for 40 years' work on tachyonics.
Nothing except a sort of cabinet of illusions.
And the name of the thing - has that struck you? - The Generator? - Recreation Generator.
Re-creation.
- Creating things again.
- Things, yes.
Or people.
- The Foamasi are offering excellent terms.
- Let me see that.
- There is an alternative.
- What? When the time comes, we will open the airlocks and together the Argolin will walk out onto the surface of the planet for the last time.
Mass suicide? Why consider it when you have these terms? This isn't a Foamasi government document.
Did I say it was? A private deal from a group of Foamasi citizens.
- The West Lodge? Never heard of them.
- They prefer a low profile.
Bluntly, it's either them or bankruptcy.
There is a third possibility that Mena didn't mention.
- Oh? - The New Argolis.
This way.
This New Argolis - whatever that might be - will need funds.
- From this forgery? - Pardon? I know the Foamasi.
Do you think my hatred has turned me into a blind fool? There are no private enterprise groups among the Foamasi.
Another trick by the government, trying to foist restitution money on us.
- Some small attempt to - For genocide?! That is not a government document.
The West Lodge! Since the war, the Foamasi government has owned the whole planet.
- Officially.
- What? Private enterprise is irrepressible.
I have several copies, of course.
- Your West Lodge can raise that much? - Easily.
We don't need it.
I have something better than money.
- A novel concept.
- Manpower.
Excuse me for reminding you that this is a sterile planet.
There haven't been any Argolins born here since the war.
Which was 40 years ago.
But how old do you think I am, Mr Brock? The radiation affected the Argolin metabolism.
The rapid ageing effect.
Yes.
And made them sterile.
It's not re-creation.
It's some sort of reduplication.
The implications could be very unpleasant.
We need to check out the Generator.
I'll go.
No.
It can't be you.
I'm the only one who can go in while it's unstable.
- Or there might be another - Tachyon surge.
If there is, I come out aged 650, but if you're in there - We need a diversion.
- Yes.
Or even a plan would do.
- No, Pangol.
No! - It's time you understood, Mr Brock.
You must be more stupid than you look.
Mena is not my No, Pangol! You've said too much already.
- You mean you're not an Argolin? - Of course I'm an Argolin.
The first of the New Argolin.
I am the child of the Generator.
Look at this, old thing.
He wasn't ready for the rigours of warp mechanics.
Hadn't we better get him off to bed? But you said You mean the Argolins donated cells from their bodies to this Recreation Generator and cloned themselves? - There's a flaw.
Where are all the others? - The theory was primitive.
- There were many failures.
- Yet he survived? For 20 years a moratorium was declared on the technique until I came of age - a thoroughly proficient tachyon engineer.
There will be no more disfigured mutants in our next reduplication programme.
There is the future of the Argolins.
Where are the guides? How did he get there? Alert! Alert! He's over there.
Status update.
Intruders.
It's all right.
He's in here.
Let's see what you're like when you've aged 2,000.
All this rushing around takes it out of you - particularly when you're 1,250 years old.
It's all right.
He's a friend.
He got me out of the Generator before Pangol started it up.
- Who is he? - I don't know.
What? - Doesn't make any sense to me.
- Doctor! Romana Shh! Don't interrupt.
He's a Foamasi.
- What's he doing here? - I don't know.
Ask him.
He showed me why our rejuvenation process doesn't work.
We found this.
Doctor, what do you make of this? Of course.
Of course.
That Doctor has been interfering with the Generator.
I want them all found.
- Mena is dying.
- The life of an individual is trivial.
- You might try Hardin's idea.
- With Mena's death, the future arrives.
The children of the Generator will rise to claim their inheritance.
Is it to do with the random field frame? I wish I knew what you wanted, friend.
- Come on.
Let's go, then.
- Where to? To the boardroom.
Our friend's seen someone he wants to talk to.
- But can we trust him? - You can trust me.
- Oh! - Shh! When the dawn comes, Mena will be dead.
The birth of the new Argolis must be recorded by history.
- I shall need one alien witness.
- So that's why you're telling me all this.
- The Doctor.
Seize him! - I've got a surprise for you.
No.
No Don't you touch me! No! Don't touch me! Stay away from me! No, don't touch me! Aaagh!
Right.
Then I'll take my chance.
- We should be recording this.
- I forgot to switch it through.
- You'll be needed here.
- Think what this will mean.
- A few years' gain for an individual.
- We're ready, then? I'll start the warm-up now.
Doctor.
Stop! We forgot something.
- What? It's too late.
- Get the Doctor out.
I can't! - Was I in there long? Felt like centuries.
- Are you all right? Yes, I think so.
A bit weak.
Why? What are you all staring at? - Have you seen yourself? - No, not recently.
Why? Should I Is that me? What happened? - I don't know.
- I was going to check something in there.
I can't remember what.
- The Doctor is unwell.
Give him a cabin.
- And confine him there.
He's still on trial for murder.
Confine them both.
Very well.
I declare a limitation on them both.
Hardin, you will come with me.
- Am I leaning too heavily on you? - No, Mena.
The distance between us seems to have lessened again.
What went wrong with the experiment? I felt so sorry for you.
- For me? - And for the Argolin, of course.
It seemed to offer a last chance for us.
Technology offered us hope once before, after the war.
Hope of survival? How? It isn't something we talk of to outsiders.
It isn't the end.
I know I can make it work.
Don't despair.
Despair is the death of hope and all our hope died years ago.
The Helmet of Theron.
His ambition laid waste the planet.
We keep it to remind us to live in humility.
- To live, yes.
- And to die with grace.
Please, Hardin.
Send for my attendants.
Your movements will be unrestricted if you keep to the programme.
- We're being programmed? - Vargos will explain.
You may be in certain areas at certain times.
The collars will become uncomfortable if you depart from the programme.
Or try to remove them.
This must be solved before dawn.
The time is very close.
- Vargos? - Yes? Somehow the alien's trivial experiment is degrading the segmentation.
- You get power from the Generator, Hardin? - That's right.
My guides want your help in removing it.
It can't interfere with our developments.
- What do you mean? - I'm not discussing that with an alien.
Besides, the tachyonic facilities are for scientific research, not fraud.
Fraud? My guides have been through Stimson's effects.
The experiments were rigged.
Is this true? I was on the verge of a breakthrough.
I needed funds.
There was real hope for us and you allowed Stimson to cheat us? But the tests I made here with Romana weren't fakes.
- We had negative time images.
It worked! - Tell that to the Doctor.
Give me more time and I can prove it.
Let him have his wish.
Give him access to the laboratory.
- And Romana.
I must have her help.
- I don't trust this.
It's a conspiracy.
Romana will stay where she is.
Work on your own, Hardin.
I'm sick of being old.
There must be some way of reversing the process.
Temporal asymmetry.
We'll have to get back to the Generator.
Your condition's unstable.
- Pangol's very young.
- Pangol? Yes.
And everyone else is old, except Pangol.
And he runs the Generator.
When you were fitting the Schrodinger oscillator, did you see two baryon shields? - Why two? - I don't know.
I didn't have time to look.
An alternative function? There must be a second circuit doing something we know nothing about.
Yes.
Yes.
When the Chairmanship passes to you, you'll moderate your views.
- The Ancient Greeks believed in moderation.
- Athens was the seat of wisdom.
And it fell to the might of Rome.
What do you want, Earthling? - Madam Chairman.
- Don't be alarmed, Mr Brock.
I'm assured my termination is proceeding normally.
The shuttles have been packed to capacity with visitors leaving.
Two unfortunate accidents in one day.
Two murders.
An exodus.
The value of this Foamasi offer must be falling by the hour.
- They may withdraw completely.
- Good.
- Have you a suggestion, Mr Brock? - A public execution, perhaps? I had something more constructive in mind.
So have I.
Who cares if an alien doctor lives or dies? Mr Brock says you may help by looking at the Recreation Generator.
It's astonishing how far the Argolins have come.
These are toys.
My experiments are the first glimpse of any real use for the Generator.
- Really? Are you sure of that? - Of course.
The Argolins have nothing to show for 40 years' work on tachyonics.
Nothing except a sort of cabinet of illusions.
And the name of the thing - has that struck you? - The Generator? - Recreation Generator.
Re-creation.
- Creating things again.
- Things, yes.
Or people.
- The Foamasi are offering excellent terms.
- Let me see that.
- There is an alternative.
- What? When the time comes, we will open the airlocks and together the Argolin will walk out onto the surface of the planet for the last time.
Mass suicide? Why consider it when you have these terms? This isn't a Foamasi government document.
Did I say it was? A private deal from a group of Foamasi citizens.
- The West Lodge? Never heard of them.
- They prefer a low profile.
Bluntly, it's either them or bankruptcy.
There is a third possibility that Mena didn't mention.
- Oh? - The New Argolis.
This way.
This New Argolis - whatever that might be - will need funds.
- From this forgery? - Pardon? I know the Foamasi.
Do you think my hatred has turned me into a blind fool? There are no private enterprise groups among the Foamasi.
Another trick by the government, trying to foist restitution money on us.
- Some small attempt to - For genocide?! That is not a government document.
The West Lodge! Since the war, the Foamasi government has owned the whole planet.
- Officially.
- What? Private enterprise is irrepressible.
I have several copies, of course.
- Your West Lodge can raise that much? - Easily.
We don't need it.
I have something better than money.
- A novel concept.
- Manpower.
Excuse me for reminding you that this is a sterile planet.
There haven't been any Argolins born here since the war.
Which was 40 years ago.
But how old do you think I am, Mr Brock? The radiation affected the Argolin metabolism.
The rapid ageing effect.
Yes.
And made them sterile.
It's not re-creation.
It's some sort of reduplication.
The implications could be very unpleasant.
We need to check out the Generator.
I'll go.
No.
It can't be you.
I'm the only one who can go in while it's unstable.
- Or there might be another - Tachyon surge.
If there is, I come out aged 650, but if you're in there - We need a diversion.
- Yes.
Or even a plan would do.
- No, Pangol.
No! - It's time you understood, Mr Brock.
You must be more stupid than you look.
Mena is not my No, Pangol! You've said too much already.
- You mean you're not an Argolin? - Of course I'm an Argolin.
The first of the New Argolin.
I am the child of the Generator.
Look at this, old thing.
He wasn't ready for the rigours of warp mechanics.
Hadn't we better get him off to bed? But you said You mean the Argolins donated cells from their bodies to this Recreation Generator and cloned themselves? - There's a flaw.
Where are all the others? - The theory was primitive.
- There were many failures.
- Yet he survived? For 20 years a moratorium was declared on the technique until I came of age - a thoroughly proficient tachyon engineer.
There will be no more disfigured mutants in our next reduplication programme.
There is the future of the Argolins.
Where are the guides? How did he get there? Alert! Alert! He's over there.
Status update.
Intruders.
It's all right.
He's in here.
Let's see what you're like when you've aged 2,000.
All this rushing around takes it out of you - particularly when you're 1,250 years old.
It's all right.
He's a friend.
He got me out of the Generator before Pangol started it up.
- Who is he? - I don't know.
What? - Doesn't make any sense to me.
- Doctor! Romana Shh! Don't interrupt.
He's a Foamasi.
- What's he doing here? - I don't know.
Ask him.
He showed me why our rejuvenation process doesn't work.
We found this.
Doctor, what do you make of this? Of course.
Of course.
That Doctor has been interfering with the Generator.
I want them all found.
- Mena is dying.
- The life of an individual is trivial.
- You might try Hardin's idea.
- With Mena's death, the future arrives.
The children of the Generator will rise to claim their inheritance.
Is it to do with the random field frame? I wish I knew what you wanted, friend.
- Come on.
Let's go, then.
- Where to? To the boardroom.
Our friend's seen someone he wants to talk to.
- But can we trust him? - You can trust me.
- Oh! - Shh! When the dawn comes, Mena will be dead.
The birth of the new Argolis must be recorded by history.
- I shall need one alien witness.
- So that's why you're telling me all this.
- The Doctor.
Seize him! - I've got a surprise for you.
No.
No Don't you touch me! No! Don't touch me! Stay away from me! No, don't touch me! Aaagh!