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THE DIMENSIONS OF TIME

Written by
GLYN JONES


1: INT. MUSEUM. EXHIBIT ROOM

(The travellers, previously immobile again, come round. BARBARA is the first to spot the change in the room...)

BARBARA: (Panicked and upset.) Theyíve gone!
DOCTOR: Yes, my dear...and weíve arrived!


2: INT. MOROK HEADQUARTERS. GOVERNORíS OFFICE

(The interior of the Governorís office is sparse and functional. On one side of the room is a series of tables with machinery and exhibits on top. The Governorís desk is circular and rests on a small dais. The Governor himself, LOBOS, sits at the desk. He resembles the rest of the white powerful beings - Moroks. Another of his kind walks into the room with a large device that he places on a nearby desk. He then turns to LOBOS.)

MOROK TECHNICIAN: Best I could do sir. Sheíll be good for another hundred years or so.
LOBOS: What was wrong with it?
MOROK TECHNICIAN: Well, the clasps had broken, rotted.
LOBOS: (Wearily.) Like everything on this planet, including us. (He gets up.) Well, Iíve got two more mimmians before I can go home. Yes, I say it often enough, but itís still two thousand Xeron days...and it sounds more in days. (He looks over the device.) Yeah, I know, I volunteered, you were ordered. If the truth were known, I was just as bored on Morok. (He returns to the desk.) Still it was home, and youth never appreciates what it has. Oh, I donít know what Iím going to do now. Still...letís get on with it, shall we? ____these reports. I donít know.

(The door has opened and a MOROK MESSENGER quickly enters the room. He salutes by placing his arm across his chest.)

LOBOS: (Testily, not looking up.) Iím the governor of this planet. Youíre supposed to show some respect and knock.
MOROK MESSENGER: Iím sorry sir. The matterís urgent.
LOBOS: Nothing's so urgent you canít knock on my door.
MOROK MESSENGER: A ship has landed.
LOBOS: (Interested.) From home? There was no advance notification.
MOROK MESSENGER: Not from the planet Morok - alien.
LOBOS: (Smiling.) Alien? Well, this will indeed be a red letter day for the Xeros calendar. Have the crew been detained?
MOROK MESSENGER: No sir. Theyíve left the ship. Weíve found footprints but no trace of them. We were unable to enter the craft but it appears to be uninhabited at the moment.

(LOBOS activates a communications control on his desk.)

LOBOS: Commander ĎBí Division? We have uninvited visitors. (To the MOROK MESSENGER.) How many?
MOROK MESSENGER: Unknown, but at least three.
LOBOS: (Back into the communicator.) Three or more. Organise a search then detain them for questioning.

(He switches the device off.)

LOBOS: Visitors? Well, we wonít be the only ones looking for them...
MOROK TECHNICIAN: The rebels?
LOBOS: Rebels? This local rabble? Theyíre children.
MOROK TECHNICIAN: Hmm, the ďchildrenĒ as you call them are growing up.
LOBOS: When they pose a danger, we will destroy them. Until then, the problem will keep. Nevertheless, theyĎll try and contact our visitors for help. I must remember to notify the commanders to keep watch. As for the aliens who have just landed, we may even be able to add to the museum.


3: INT. XERON HIDEOUT

(In a store room, one of the youthful beings dressed in black walks down some steps from where he has been keeping watch through a doorway and walks up to another. These are Xerons and these two are the ones that failed to see the travellers in the room that contained the Dalek exhibit.)

SITA: Tor is late. Itís not like him.
DAKO: I know. He did contact the group in the next sector?
SITA: Yes, but the Moroks are out checking. If they found him missing, they could have pulled him in for questioning. Oh no, heís just been detained, stop worrying about it.
DAKO: Stop worrying? Look, weíre just waiting to be rounded up.
SITA: I suppose Tor knows what heís doing.
DAKO: Huh, does he? Iím beginning to wonder. I know the Moroks have ray guns and weíre unarmed but our only chance is to strike!

(A third of the Xerons, TOR, walks down the steps behind them, unseen by DAKO.)

DAKO: Well, the longer we leave it the greater the risk.
TOR: (Startling DAKO.) But weíll only get one opportunity Dako, and when we attack weíve got to win.
SITA: Tor, youíre late.
TOR: I know, something happened; the Moroks have discovered a spaceship.
SITA: A spaceship? Landed here?
DAKO: Where from?
TOR: Well, nobody knows yet. Theyíd already left it before the ship was found.
SITA: It doesnít make much difference, theyíll contact the Moroks anyway.
TOR: No, I donít think they will. Theyíve had time to do that and they havenít. Lobos is organising a search.
SITA: A search?
TOR: Mmm.
DAKO: Tor, I donít understand. Look, everybody knows what this planetís used for - a museum. Well, if they came here knowing that, and they must have done, it can only be to see the Moroks.
TOR: Huh! The universe is huge. There must be millions of planets that have never heard of the Moroks.
SITA: They could have landed here by accident.
TOR: Well, either way, itís our chance. Well, donít you see? Theyíll have weapons - weapons we can use.
SITA: If they agree to help us.
TOR: They will Sita, when they hear our story.
DAKO: But the Moroks are searching. Youíve already said that. Theyíll find them first.
TOR: No, I donít think theyíll want to be discovered when they find out about this place.
SITA: If they hide, theyíll hide from us too.
TOR: (Sighs.) I know, but weíve got to try. Come on!

(The three run up the steps and out of the room.)


4: INT. MUSEUM. EXHIBIT ROOM

(IAN, BARBARA and VICKI lift a large glass case off its plinth. A futuristic gun is the exhibit underneath that they are trying to reach.)

BARBARA: (Finding the glass heavy.) Ah, oh!
IAN: Can you hold it?
BARBARA: Yes.
VICKI: Hurry up, itís heavy! Oh!

(IAN takes the gun out.)

IAN: All right.

(They lower the case back down.)

IAN: Good.

(IAN examines the gun.)

IAN: Hey, I wonder if it works, hey?

(He pretends to use the gun making a staccato firing noise like a child. The DOCTOR steps forward.)

DOCTOR: Chesterton, this is no time to be playing Cowboys and Indians.
IAN: Doctor, I might have shot a hole right in the middle of you!
DOCTOR: Is that so? We have a very serious problem on our hands, and what are you doing with this anyway? Put it back in there! Hmm!
IAN: No, Doctor. This might come in very useful. We might be able to bluff our way out of here with this.
BARBARA: If we want to get out of here...
IAN: Mmm?
VICKI: Oh, we canít stay here, Barbara, can we?
BARBARA: We must do whatever is necessary to keep us out of those cases.
VICKI: I donít see that staying here would stop it.
BARBARA: We must break the chain of events that led up to it - and going out of here might be just what weíre not supposed to do.
DOCTOR: Yes, I think Barbaraís quite right, my dear. If we walk out of here, it could change the future. Perhaps if we wait until weíre taken out, that might change the future. The point is, what are we going to do? Which is it to be?
VICKI: But Doctor, if we find the TARDIS and leave here, then we wonít have to worry about being turned into dummies at all.
IAN: Thatís a good point, Doctor...
DOCTOR: It isnít a good point at all, my dear boy. The fact is the future - our future, whether we leave here in the TARDIS or not. Hmm!
IAN: (Thoughtful.) Yes...I see...itís a difficult problem, isnít it?
DOCTOR: Yes, it is.
VICKI: Thereís no answer. But, Doctor, weíve got to decide on something...
DOCTOR: Decide, my dear? Spinning a coin would be...just as appropriate.

(The DOCTOR walks a few steps away to a pylon type structure. He stands within it.)

DOCTOR: Who would...want to put us on show or display? I wonder, hmm?

(He sits down and ponders. A few feet away, the others watch.)

BARBARA: The Doctorís curious - that means we stay.
VICKI: Youíve lost a button.
IAN: Hmm? Oh, so I have.
DOCTOR: (Overhearing.) Lost a button? Hmm, thatís interesting. Yes, thatís very interesting. Hmm.
IAN: (Stepping over.) Doctor, why do you always show the greatest interest in the least important things, eh?
DOCTOR: The least important things sometimes, my dear boy, lead to the greatest discoveries. Like steam, for instance, coming out of a kettle. Yes! I was with him at the time. Er, letís see now, er, yes what was that fellows name? Erm, erm , erm...
BARBARA: James Watt.
DOCTOR: Mmm? Yes, you know, losing a button could change the future. Mmm. Itís a pity, my dear boy, you didnít discover it was missing in the cases when we were standing there st, er, staring at each other.
IAN: Doctor, Iíd just come face to face with myself! I wasnít counting the buttons on my jacket!
DOCTOR: Yes, I quite understand that. (Getting up.) Well, I think we should leave the museum, try and find the TARDIS and make sure that it doesnít end up in here. Are you all agreeable.
BARBARA: Mmm.
VICKI: Yes!
IAN: Yes.
DOCTOR: Come along then, come along!

(He leads them out of the room.)


5: INT. MUSEUM. CORRIDOR

(They step into a corridor.)

DOCTOR: All right, my boy. You lead the way.
IAN: Yes.

(IAN, still holding the gun, steps forward but, unsure, suddenly stops and turns back.)

IAN: Well which way? Have you any, er, particular fancy?
DOCTOR: The way we came in, of course!
IAN: And which way was that?
DOCTOR: Your memory is like a sieve, dear boy! We turned right and then left.
VICKI: No, no, we turned right when we came in.
IAN: No, we turned left when we came in.
BARBARA: Well actually, all the doors and corridors are exactly alike.
DOCTOR: I beg to differ, You see, you must turn right before you turn left.
IAN: Doctor, it depends which way youíre facing before you start turning at all!
DOCTOR: (Pointing.) We were facing from there, down here, therefore...
IAN: Doctor, why donít you admit it - you are just as lost as the rest of us?
DOCTOR: Yes, I suppose I...must confess, I am.
IAN: Ahh!
DOCTOR: Anyway, I suggest we take Vickiís advice. We can always re-trace our steps. (He point to a door behind them.) So, we go this way and turn right, hmm? Right.

(VICKI now leads the way.)


6: INT. MUSEUM. CORRIDOR

BARBARA: Well, I donít remember this.
VICKI: I do.
IAN: Oh-oh! Youíre just saying that because we followed your advice!
VICKI: Oh no, Iím not! (Points.) I remember that thing being over there.
DOCTOR: Yes, I think Vickiís quite correct. Yes, I have a distinct impression, weíve all been here before. (He thinks.) Hmm, yea...er, yes, of course! Yes, yes, yes, yes, I know where we are now. (Laughs.)
IAN: You do? Well, which way do we go?
DOCTOR: (Unsure.) Er, er, ergh, ergh...
VICKI: (Prompting him.) Straight ahead...
DOCTOR: Straight...straight ahead, dear boy! Straight ahead! Yes, turn right. (He laughs.)

(He walks between the two teachers and follows VICKI. IAN and BARBARA laugh knowingly to each other and follow.)


7: INT. MOROK HEADQUARTERS. GOVERNORíS OFFICE

(The communicator on LOBOSíS desk buzzes. He switches it on.)

LOBOS: Yes?
MOROK COMMANDER: (OOV: over tannoy.) Er, commander ĎKí division; alien spaceship in hand sir.
LOBOS: What news of the aliens...repeat, what news of the aliens?
MOROK COMMANDER: (OOV: over tannoy.) Footsteps were found near the museum. The search is proceeding.
LOBOS: Good. Find them.


8: INT. MUSEUM. CORRIDOR

(The travellers continue their journey back to the entrance way.)

BARBARA: Itís like a maze.
IAN: Well, if we keep going, we must eventually come to an entrance.
DOCTOR: No more talking please. I think weíre nearly there.

(Behind them, the three Xerons step out of a side passageway and watch them as they walk off.)

DOCTOR: And remember, we can be seen by now.

(Behind them...)

SITA: That must be them.
DAKO: And theyíre armed!
TOR: Quick! Back here!

(He pushes them back into the side passage.)

TOR: Iíll see which way they go. Then weíll try and cut them off.
DAKO: They had a ray gun. I saw it.
TOR: Well, thatís no reason to sound downhearted. We were hoping they would.
DAKO: Well, thatís all very well but how do we know theyíre friendly? They might shoot us on sight.
TOR: Well, weíll have to try and make contact before we show ourselves.
SITA: How.
TOR: Well, weíll catch either the old man or the girl. W...we...we can explain and...and. then, let then let them introduce us to the others.
SITA: Mmm, itís a good idea.

(TOR peeps round the corner.)

TOR: Look quick, theyíve gone to the right - letís get them!

(They run off.)


9: INT. MUSEUM. CORRIDOR

(The DOCTOR is first to walk down another corridor. He stops to examine an exhibit with his monocle. IAN cautiously leads BARBARA and VICKI.)

IAN: All clear.

(BARBARA follows IAN. VICKI sees that the DOCTOR is absorbed in the exhibit.)

VICKI: Doctor?
DOCTOR: Mmm? Yes, yes, all right child.

(VICKI walks off. The DOCTOR continues to examine the exhibit for a minute. He chuckles and starts to walk away. Behind him, a door slides open and he is quickly pulled through. The door slides shut again.)


10: INT. MUSEUM. ROOM

(DAKO kneels down and examines the DOCTOR who lies apparently unconscious on the floor.)

DAKO: Youíve killed him, Sita!
SITA: I couldnít have! I hardly touched him! He must have fainted.

(Unseen, the DOCTOR opens his eyes.)

TOR: Shut up, both of you. Thereís no time for arguments.

(The DOCTOR shuts his eyes quickly. TOR kneels down and looks at him, then stands up again.)

TOR: Stay here and watch him, Dako, in case he recovers.
DAKO: Me? Where are you going?
TOR: To try and find something to bring him around. Well, donít worry - we wonít be long. Come on Sita.

(They open the door and leave the room, sliding the door shut behind them.)


11: INT. MUSEUM. CORRIDOR

(The DOCTORíS absence has been noticed...)

BARBARA: Well, he was following us.
IAN: I know that, but where did he stop?

(Neither of the two women answer.)

IAN: Well, surely one or other of you saw or heard something?
BARBARA: Oh, come on Ian! You werenít that far in front!
IAN: Barbara, I am not blaming you!
BARBARA: (Snapping.) Well, then stop getting irritable!
IAN: I am not irritable! I...oh, Iím sorry. Of course Iím irritable. I just wish heíd stay with us for once, thatís all.
BARBARA: Well, he was looking in one of the cases. I suppose we could have left him behind.
VICKI: I bet heís been captured.
IAN: (Dismissively.) Captured!
BARBARA: By whom?
VICKI: I donít know...those people we saw, I suppose.
BARBARA: (Sharply.) Oh, Vicki! Youíre just letting your imagination run away with you.
IAN: There were four of us in those cases, not one.
BARBARA: Well, what do we do now? Which is the way into those cases? Staying here, going back or still trying to find our way out?
IAN: Oh, Barbara, asking a lot of questions is not going to change our future.
BARBARA: (Angrily.) Well, if we donít find a few answers, we wonít have a future!
IAN: All right! All right! I agree - weíve got to do something. I say we go on.
BARBARA: All right.
VICKI: (Tired of the arguments.) Oh, good! That way I think.

(She walks between the two teachers and back down the corridor. They follow.)


12: INT. MUSEUM. ROOM

(TOR and SITA arrive back at the room, TOR carrying a large glass. They slide open the door only to see DAKO lying bound and gagged on the floor. They rush to release him.)

TOR: Well, what happened, Dako?
DAKO: I donít know. I turned my back for a second, the next thing I...
TOR: Well, was it the old man?
DAKO: I donít know!
SITA: Did he go outside?
DAKO: I keep telling you - I didnít see anything. Huh! One minute was silence and the next minute a whirlwind hit me.
TOR: Well, he must have gone to join the others.
SITA: Weíll have to see if we can find him. Donít forget theyíre still armed.
TOR: Oh, weíll have to take our chances this time. Otherwise the Moroks will get them first. Come on.

(They rush out, sliding the door shut behind them. In the room, to one side, is the Dalek exhibit. A familiar voice comes from within the casing imitating a Dalek voice...)

DOCTOR: (OOV: within the casing.) I fooled them all! I am the master!

(The arm extends back and forth as the lid shoots open and the DOCTOR emerges laughing...)


13: INT. MUSEUM. CORRIDOR

(Two MOROK GUARDS patrol the museum, searching for the time travellers. They pass the sliding door to the room where the DOCTOR is hiding. As they walk on, the door slides back and the old man emerges, still laughing at his victory. He does not see the MOROKS until it is too late. They point their guns at him.)


14: INT. MUSEUM. EXHIBIT ROOM

(IAN, BARBARA and VICKI have arrived back at the room which contains the pylon type structure.)

BARBARA: Itís no good Ian, I...I canít go on. (She sees the pylon.) Well, we passed this thing ages ago. Weíre just going round and round in circles.
VICKI: How long have we been in here?
IAN: Oh, it doesnít matter how long. Thereís only one thing thatís certain. Weíre getting nearer and nearer to those cases. (A thought strikes him.) The Minotaur!

(He rushes at BARBARA and pulls her cardigan off her.)

IAN: The Minotaur!
BARBARA: Ian, what are you doing?
IAN: Well, donít you two remember your mythology? When Theseus went into the labyrinth, he took with him a ball of thread so that he could use it to retrace his steps.
BARBARA: Yes, but Ian, we havenít just arrived. Weíve been here for hours.
IAN: That doesnít matter. From now on we wonít go round and round in circles. Here Vicki - hold it. Come on.

(VICKI grabs the other end of the cardigan and they start pulling.)

BARBARA: Well, you might ask! I mean, thatís a good cardigan!
IAN: Oh, er, sorry, well, er, may we?
BARBARA: Yes...yes, I suppose so!
VICKI: Weíll leave a trail of thread, you see? But Ian! Ian!
IAN: Mmm?
VICKI: If anyone sees it, theyíll be able to follow it and catch us.
IAN: Oh, weíll get caught anyway if we donít get out of here soon. Donít worry about that. Letís get this...
VICKI: I suppose so.

(Unable to pull the threads apart, IAN tries with his teeth, then gives up.)

IAN: How do you undo this?
BARBARA: Oh, give it to me! Do you have a penknife?
IAN: Oh, penknife? (He gets one out of his jacket pocket.) Yes, there we are.

(BARBARA takes it and starts cutting at the cardigan to free a thread.)

IAN: Ah yes...


14: INT. MOROK HEADQUARTERS. CELL

(The DOCTOR has been placed in a darkened cell. He examines the walls trying to find a way out. Giving up, he sits in a semi-circular perspex chair which is in the middle of the room bathed in a pool of light. The chair has several electronic controls built into the arms. The DOCTOR is pondering his situation and, without him noticing, two arms extend from the chair and hold him inside it. The DOCTOR tries to stand up and now notices that he is trapped.)


15: INT. MUSEUM. EXHIBIT ROOM

(The Xerons have found the thread from the cardigan which extends from the pylon.)

SITA: Whatís this?
TOR: Theyíre leaving a trail.
SITA: Why?
TOR: Well, they must have missed the old man. Yes - this was put here for him to follow them!
DAKO: No, I donít think so. Theyíd have come back and looked for him.
TOR: Well, whatever the reason, itís a trail. Now trails are meant to be followed - this way.

(They pursue the trail.)


16: INT. MOROK HEADQUARTERS. CELL

(The wall facing the DOCTOR slides back. LOBOS sits facing him at a desk which has various controls on it.)

LOBOS: Welcome to Xeros - a planet in the Morok empire. What is your name?

(The DOCTOR doesnít answer.)

LOBOS: Very well. Mine is Lobos. I am the governor of this planet.
DOCTOR: ďCurator of a museumĒ is a better title, hmm?
LOBOS: (Smiling.) Ah, so now you choose to speak, good. Yes, Xeros is a museum. A lasting memorial to the achievements of the Morok civilisation.
DOCTOR: Really? Well, from my observation it, er, seems to, er, arouse, er, very little interest.
LOBOS: People tire of their heritage. Three hundred mimmians ago, sightseers filled this planet, marvelling at what they saw. Today, the occasional spaceship from Morok calls.
DOCTOR: Perhaps if you reduced the price of admission! Hmm? (He laughs.)
LOBOS: You have a sense of humour too! Unfortunately, that is not the reason. Our civilisation rests on its laurels. Galactic conquests are a thing of the past. Life, it is now said, is purely a thing to enjoy.
DOCTOR: ďDecline and fall of the Roman empireĒ - oh yes, itís happened before, yes. In many galaxies far beyond your reach.
LOBOS: Why do you come here?
DOCTOR: Exploration.
LOBOS: Ah! Then you are a scientist like myself? It makes a change to have someone intelligent and enquiring to talk to.
DOCTOR: Iím charmed!
LOBOS: Where have you come from?
DOCTOR: Why?
LOBOS: You donít want to answer? Very well, Iíll try another. Where are your companions?

(The DOCTOR laughs quietly. LOBOS flicks a switch on his desk.)

LOBOS: We can get all the information we require without the need to resort to brute force. Of course, your co-operation would have made things easier, but it isnít essential. (Sternly.) I will repeat the question; Where are your companions?

(The DOCTOR laughs again. LOBOS looks at a small monitor on his desk and then activates a communications device.)

LOBOS: Commander ĎBí division?
MOROK COMMANDER: (OOV: over tannoy.) ĎBí Division commander here sir.
LOBOS: Proceed immediately to corridor 417. Detain three humans - one man, one woman and a young girl.
MOROK COMMANDER: (OOV: over tannoy.) Message received and understood. It will be dealt with immediately.

(The smile has disappeared from the DOCTORíS face. LOBOS turns the monitor round so that the DOCTOR can see it. On the screen is a still image of IAN, BARBARA and VICKI in one of the corridors of the museum.)

LOBOS: A simple matter of thought selection. By asking a question, I plant an image in your mind. No matter what you say, as long as youíre seated in that chair, I will see your mental pictures reflected. You see, it is quite useless for you to lie to me. Now shall we return to the questioning? How did you get here?

(LOBOS stares in amazement at the image that now appears on the scanner - a Victorian penny-farthing bicycle! The DOCTOR laughs again...)


17: INT. MUSEUM. CORRIDOR

(IAN unravels the thread as they make their way through the museum again, but the thread has now run out.)

IAN: The end, Iím afraid.
BARBARA: It didnít work, did it?
IAN: Oh, I donít know. We...we didnít go round and round in circles, we didnít back-track.
VICKI: If only they had exit signs like they do in ordinary museums.
BARBARA: Well, I suppose weíll be stuck here until...

(She stops, unwilling to finish her sentence. IAN lays a comforting hand on her shoulder, then walks a little further off.)

BARBARA: Well, may be the Doctorís wrong and you canít change the future.
VICKI: Oh, donít say that, Barbara. I canít bear to think of such an awful thing happening.
BARBARA: Well, I canít bear to think of it either, but we canít...

(IAN comes back.)

IAN: It didnít work, eh? You come with me!

(The follow him into the next room.)


18: INT. MUSEUM. ENTRANCE PASSAGE

(They have succeeded in finding the museum entrance. IAN slides the entrance doors apart and they look outside. The sound of a crowd can be heard outside.)

VICKI: The TARDIS! Theyíve got the TARDIS!


19: INT. MOROK HEADQUARTERS. CELL

(The interrogation is not proceeding as LOBOS would wish it to...)

DOCTOR: Well? No more questions? Hmm?
LOBOS: (Angrily.) Where have you come from?!
DOCTOR: If you take a look into your screen, perhaps you will find that out, hmm?

(A moving image of seals on a rock in the sea appears. LOBOS is stunned. The DOCTOR smiles...)

LOBOS: What are these creatures?
DOCTOR: Just some old friends of mine!

(A still image of a seal now appears.)

DOCTOR: Hmm!
LOBOS: But these are amphibious creatures! You are not an amphibian!
DOCTOR: Oh! Iím not, am I?! Hmm?

(A new image appears - the DOCTOR striking a pose dressed in a Victorian bathing costume and straw boater! The communications device buzzes. LOBOS, scowling, answers it.)

LOBOS: Yes?
MOROK COMMANDER: (OOV: over tannoy.) Commander ĎBí division - no fugitive aliens in corridor 417.
LOBOS: You fools! You let them escape! All available divisions - priority search. These aliens must be found at once - maximum security!
DOCTOR: Donít blame your men. I think my friends most probably left the area long before you put questions to me. I imagined them still there, of course, because that was the last place I saw them. So you see, your little toy...isnít...infallible, is it? Hmm?
LOBOS: (Angrily.) So you see fit to joke with me, eh? Well, let us give you something to joke about, shall we? You are of no further use to me and would make a perfect specimen for our museums.

(A new image appears on the monitor - that of the DOCTOR in the display case. LOBOS sees this.)

LOBOS: Yes Doctor, I see you take my meaning. (He presses a control.) Guards.

(Two MOROK GUARDS step into the cell.)

LOBOS: Take him to the preparation room.

(The GUARDS activate a control in the chair, the arms withdraw and they lift a nervous looking DOCTOR to his feet...)


Next episode
THE SEARCH


Dr. Who
WILLIAM HARTNELL

Ian Chesterton
WILLIAM RUSSELL

Barbara Wright
JACQUELINE HILL

Vicki
MAUREEN OíBRIEN

Lobos
RICHARD SHAW

Tor
JEREMY BULLOCH

Sita
PETER SANDERS

Dako
PETER CRAZE

Morok Messenger
SALVIN STEWART

Morok Technician
PETER DIAMOND

Morok Guards
LAWRENCE DEAN
KEN NORRIS

Story Editor
DENNIS SPOONER

Title Music by
RON GRAINER
with the BBC Radiophonic Workshop

Designer
SPENCER CHAPMAN

Producer
VERITY LAMBERT

Directed by
MERVYN PINFIELD

(c) BBC tv

Transcribed By
JOHN TOMLINSON

 

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