Doctor Who (1963) s23e14 Episode Script

No! Hang on! Where are you? Oh, no! Don't give in.
I'm coming.
Doctor? Doctor? What a way to go! All in all, he wasn't a bad old codger.
Honest, of course.
Still, nobody's perfect.
And that's the clue.
Nobody is.
Not even the Valeyard.
Great cosmic protector of grafters and dissemblers, save me! Save me! A voice from the grave.
No, a grave voice.
Bad joke.
But everything round here is a bad joke.
No mud? But I saw Your ankle armour.
-I don't get it.
-Oh, do concentrate, Glitz! How often must I tell you? We're not dealing with reality.
Why waste your breath on that simple-minded oaf? You cannot speak as though reality is a one-dimensional concept.
Fortunately, there is a reality that you and I can both agree on.
The ultimate reality.
Death? ''The undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveller returns.
'' ''Puzzles the will.
'' Hamlet, Act Three, Scene One.
I really must curb these urges.
I have no wish to be contaminated by your whims and idiosyncrasies.
Quite so.
But what I don't comprehend He's over here, Doc.
Slippery customer, your other persona.
What I don't comprehend is why you want me dead.
No.
No, let me rephrase that.
It would satisfy my curiosity to know why you should go to such extraordinary lengths to kill me.
Come now, Doctor.
How else can I obtain my freedom? Operate as a complete entity, unfettered by your side of my existence? Only by ridding myself of you and your misplaced morality.
Your constant crusading.
Your -Idiotic honesty? -Oaf.
Microbe.
Pardon me for trying to help.
I'm neutral in this set-up, you know.
Only by releasing myself from the misguided maxims that you nurture can I be free.
Sounds to me like armageddon's beckoning you, Doc.
With you destroyed and no longer able to constrain me, and with unlimited access to the Matrix, there will be nothing beyond my reach.
Where are you off to now? -To trace the Valeyard.
-But he was here.
Illusion, Glitz.
The shadow, not the substance.
But if you don't want to come, you can stay here and build sandcastles.
I'm sure if you think hard enough, you can conjure up a bucket and spade.
Tell you something, if you two meet face to face, five grotzis gives you ten, he's first past the chequered flag.
What's that? Back pedal! Another illusion? -Alas, no.
-Sea mist? Fog? Asphyxiating nerve gas.
This is in deadly earnest.
You've gotta tell Run! We can't just sit here and do nothing.
We've got to help him.
The Doctor chose to enter the Matrix.
We are not empowered to interfere.
If I may, my lady, you are applying logical thought to a situation that recognises no logic.
Give me the key to the Matrix.
I'm going in there.
Welcome, Doctor.
Well, I never thought I'd welcome the sight of you.
It will not happen again.
What puzzles me is why it's happening now.
The explanation is quite simple.
I want the Valeyard eliminated.
And you are the most likely candidate to achieve that.
Hang on! You told me this fleshy fair-haired personage was the one you wanted to croak.
With the Doctor as my enemy, I always have the advantage.
But the Valeyard, the distillation of all that's evil in you, untainted by virtue, a composite of yet every dark thought, is a different proposition.
Additionally, he's infuriated me by threatening to deny me the pleasure of personally bringing about your destruction.
And so, he must pay the price.
And you, Glitz, shall help me to collect.
Would I be wrong in thinking that the Doctor will soon be needing a machonite overcoat? Nothing so crude.
He's merely being reduced to a catatonic state.
Cata-what? The violent assault on his senses will trip a defensive mechanism and his brain will switch off.
-He'll become a zombie.
-Temporarily.
Long enough for my purposes.
Walk.
Stop.
This should prove an irresistible bait for the Valeyard.
You Time Lords take the cake.
Talk about devious.
Compared to you lot, I'm transparent as crystal.
Poor old Doc.
Stop slobbering.
Get over here.
You really are a second-rate adversary.
Did you imagine I'd be lured by such a transparent ploy? This could all be an illusion.
Then stay here and find out.
Doctor.
Where are you, Doctor? Doctor! Mel? Doctor, is that you? Yes, of course it's me.
Where are you? This way.
Quickly! What are you doing in the Matrix? Forget the questions.
You're alive.
That's all that matters.
Now please, follow me.
Before it's too late.
Where are we going? To get you out of this unholy mess.
But that's the seventh door.
You're taking me back to the trial room.
Doctor, trust me.
Don't you see that until you've cleared your name you're no better than the Valeyard is.
A renegade on the run.
An outcast.
Quite the pragmatist, aren't you? You're quite right, of course.
Let's get it over with.
Doctor.
You owe the court an apology.
Well, if I do, then it is unreservedly offered, madam.
The charge of genocide is based on your own evidence.
And refuted by the Doctor.
Seems you have a champion in this young woman.
I was there, remember? Would you accept her as an impartial witness? I would trust Mel with my life.
Good.
Keeper.
The vionesium, Mel! Is that a true record of what occurred? What shall I say, Doctor? Just tell the truth.
Yes, but I don't want her to twist it like the Valeyard did.
The truth can't harm me.
That's what happened.
Is it your contention that the Doctor was solely responsible for devising the scheme we are presently reviewing on the Matrix? Absolutely.
Without the Doctor, we would have all ended up on the Vervoids' revolting compost heap.
A unique solution.
Out of this world.
An appropriate expression, wouldn't you say, my lords? Appropriate? Something's going wrong here.
I can sense it.
You said the truth couldn't harm you.
Yet I have a feeling I'm attending a lynching party.
Tell them you had no choice, Doctor.
There is always a choice.
Doctor, you stand accused of genocide.
The evidence is incontrovertible.
The verdict is guilty.
No! -Your life is therefore forfeit.
-Take him from this court.
-No.
Leave him alone.
Unless we are prepared to sacrifice our lives for the good of all, then evil and anarchy will spread like the plague.
The rule of law must prevail.
Madam, I accept your verdict.
Switch it off.
Switch it off! The Doctor has been tricked into believing that that was the real trial room.
The Valeyard's illusion has deliberately taken advantage of the Doctor's romantic nature.
He's convinced he must sacrifice himself, and you're content to let him.
We cannot interfere.
Well, I can! Glitz.
Glitz.
Sabalom Glitz.
Tis a far, far better thing that I do than I have ever done.
Tis a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.
Never mind the Sydney Carton heroics.
You're not signing on as a martyr yet.
Go away, Mel.
Go away.
That trial was an illusion.
-You've ruined everything.
-Ruined? I've just saved your neck.
All you've done is keep me from a confrontation with the Valeyard.
-But you were on your way to -To a death chamber as a result of a bogus trial and my noble act of self-sacrifice.
You knew it was an illusion? -How come? -Because of you, Mel.
In your evidence, you testified you had heard me deny the charge of genocide.
But you weren't even there.
You hadn't been inside the courtroom at that time.
And with your extraordinary ability of total recall, you wouldn't have made such an elementary mistake.
Okay.
Okay.
I'm not deaf.
The Valeyard overestimates his own cleverness.
Like all megalomaniacs, he is consumed with his own vanity.
There.
That should inflame his bloated ego.
Come on.
Where? To fight Mr JJ Chambers.
I want you to rejoin the Doctor and lead him to the Valeyard.
No chance.
You don't catch me going near no more quill pens again.
I'm just going to stay here till I can get back to my own kind and some honest thieving.
Splendid.
Splendid.
Listen to me! Are you listening, Sabalom Glitz? Not really, I was just wondering how many grotzis this little bauble cost you.
Perhaps this will appeal to your crass soul.
Truly a wondrous sight for a connoisseur such as myself.
There isn't a living creature in the universe I couldn't bribe with this little lot.
Yours if you follow my orders.
I still reckon we'd be better off outside the Matrix.
Oh.
Oh, you do? It seems to me we should try and draw the Valeyard out to where the odds would be more even.
And how do we do that? I hate to say this, but use you as bait.
Assuming that it's me he's after.
Oh, come on.
Just look at the elaborate lengths he's gone to already.
Yes.
Yes, they were elaborate, weren't they? Perhaps too elaborate.
There are times in our relationship when I feel an interpreter wouldn't come amiss.
Don't go through that Door.
Sticky fingers, Mr Glitz? The Matrix memory bank.
I thought this was destroyed on Ravalox.
That was a duplicate.
This is the master tape.
Phase three, four, five, and six.
All the secrets of the Matrix.
Not all.
The primitive phases one and two have been relegated to the archives.
Now kindly put it back and do as you're told.
-I'd give my soul for this.
-You would? Would you indeed? You'd like to negotiate, Mr Popplewick? Sir? Look at this, Mel.
A list of names.
Of Time Lords attending my trial.
Every member of the Ultimate Court of Appeal, the supreme guardians of Gallifreyan law.
Why are they all crossed through? Do you notice something else? No.
The handwriting.
It's yours.
I really must protest at this unseemly behaviour.
You are contravening all known procedure.
Due to my not inconsiderable powers of persuasion, this minion has agreed to take us to his boss, the mysterious Mr JJ Chambers.
-Will you lead the way, Mr Popplewick? -No.
No, not through there.
Mr Chambers is across the courtyard, sir.
If he isn't, there will be one bureaucrat less in the Matrix.
Ah, just a minute.
You won't be needing this, Mr Popplewick.
Very astute of you, Doc.
You should live a long time.
I already have.
Over 900 years.
What's the secret? Secret, Mel? What secret? You know, I am beginning to realise that I have misjudged Mr JJ Chambers, alias the Valeyard.
Not for the first time.
In fact, how you've managed to survive 900-odd years beats me.
We had an agreement.
I've done my bit.
I've delivered the Doctor.
Uh-uh.
The Matrix memory tapes first.
Oh, very well.
Tell the Doctor I didn't sell him down the Milky Way for nothing.
I'm sure that will be a consolation to him in his final moments.
Very astute, Sabalom Glitz.
But this is loaded.
What's that for? I thought we trusted each other.
I was on my way to see you.
My trust of you is in equal proportion to your trust of me.
The Tardis is over there.
Such craftsmanship! Pride in every cog and piston.
Doctor, there is another priority, the Valeyard.
Remember? Yeah, how could I forget? -Where's Glitz? -I don't know.
Decided to stay outside on guard, perhaps.
Eh, Mr Popplewick? Yes.
I perceive Mr Chambers is not here.
-I shall go and find him for you, sir.
-Yes.
Yes, you do that, Mr Popplewick.
If I knew what you were looking for, maybe I could help.
I'm awfully sorry, sir.
I don't seem able to locate Mr Chambers.
Yes.
Well, I rather thought you might have some trouble.
Who's that? -Don't just stand there, Mel.
Help me! -Unhand me.
Stop! This is preposterous.
You will regret this.
Mr Chambers will demand an explanation for this iniquitous, this wicked behaviour.
Well, let's ask him.
Shall we? How did you know? The performance was too grotesque to be real.
I have never been able to resist a touch of the Grand Guignol.
Have we? You'll soon have ample scope to indulge in melodrama.
Really? Why? A megabyte modem.
A maser.
-A maser? -An acronym.
For ''microwave amplification and stimulated emission of radiation''.
But what does it do? Yes, Doctor, enlighten us.
Disseminate the news.
Disseminate A particle disseminator! The ultimate weapon.
Even subatomic particles, gravitons, quarks, tau mesons, all completely disseminated.
Destroy us and you destroy yourself.
What's the joke? I've just realised.
My writing.
Our writing.
A hit list.
But how? These Time Lords, or supreme guardians of the law, as you called them, are all in the trial room, and we're in the Matrix.
The Matrix screen! Mel, get back to the trial room, tell them to disconnect the Matrix screen and evacuate the court.
-But I can't leave.
-Go! Do it! Or there will be mass murder! My lady, an urgent message.
The High Council has been deposed.
Insurrectionists are running amok on Gallifrey.
Thank you, Keeper.
That is the news I'd been awaiting.
Listen carefully, I have an edict to deliver.
Somewhere the Valeyard and the Doctor are engaged in their squalid duel.
With luck, they'll kill each other, but that is a mere coincidental occurrence.
What I have to impart is of vital importance to all of you.
Now that Gallifrey is collapsing into chaos, none of you will be needed.
Your office will be abolished.
Only I can impose order.
I have control of the Matrix.
To disregard my commands will be to invite summary execution.
Now that you've purged that from your system, can we get on? Load the cassette.
You really are the archetypal philistine.
Moments such as this should be savoured.
What What's happening? A limbo atrophier.
A limbo atrophier? You are elevating futility to a high art.
There's nothing you can do to prevent the catharsis of spurious morality! If you could compile this monstrosity, it follows that I should be able to unravel it.
Disconnect the Matrix.
We cannot switch off without the Keeper, and he's not present.
Then get out of here, quickly.
Your lives depend on it.
Eureka! And you said it couldn't be immobilised.
What have you done? Induced an anti-phase sequence into the telemetry unit.
The whole system should self-destruct.
You blundering imbecile.
You triggered a ray-phase shift that may amass a feedback into here.
No! No! It's too late.
Now, let me see.
Where were we? I was about to be sentenced, I believe.
All charges against you are dismissed, Doctor.
We owe you an immense debt of gratitude.
Which I can partly repay by telling you that the young woman, Miss Perpugilliam Brown, is alive and well and living as a warrior queen with King Yrcanos.
Verumnic.
Now then, once law and order have been restored, a new High Council will need to be elected.
Can I persuade you to stand for Lord President again? I've a better idea.
-He's going to suggest you stand.
-Indeed, I am.
And were there such a thing as an intergalactic postal vote, you'd have mine.
I shouldn't broadcast that if I were you.
Oh, you could do me one small favour, if you would.
Simply name it.
When the Matrix is restored, you can do what you like with the Master, but exercise leniency with Sabalom Glitz.
He's not beyond redemption.
Just don't let him anywhere near the crown jewels.
Gallifrey doesn't have any crown jewels.
Right.
A bracing glass of carrot juice.
Carrot juice? And then we'll get you back on the exerciser.
You know, I think I was rash in turning down that offer of the Presidency.
Come on.
Carrot juice? Carrot juice, carrot juice, carrot juice! Repair the Matrix, Keeper.
Requisition anything you need.
My lady.