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He is a mystery to all who know him. An eccentric Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey, now in his fourth lifetime, wandering through space and time in the (police telephone box-disguised) TARDIS. Accompanied by a loyal robotic dog, he finds himself in incredible adventures anywhere -- and when -- in the universe!

Nightowl Productions presents BBC-TV's:

The strangest hero of all!

"The Ribos Operation"
Episode 1

Written by Robert Holmes
First broadcast 1978


(The Doctor is stretched out across the floor, his scarf trailing all the way across the room. Before him is his newest companion - K-9 Mark II, the replica of his recently departed robot dog. He blows a dog whistle at the robot experimentally. K-9 lifts his head...)

K-9: Master.

(The Doctor laughs heartily, pulling himself up.)

DOCTOR: It works, K-9, it works! Listen, I've got a little surprise for you.
K-9: Master?
DOCTOR: You and I are going away on holiday.
K-9: Affirmative.
DOCTOR: A nice, long holiday.
K-9: Affirmative.
DOCTOR: Would you like that, K-9?
K-9: (nodding his head) Affirmative, affirmative, affirmative...

(The Doctor pats K-9's head, gets up and walks around the console.)

DOCTOR: Shh, shh, shh, shh. Holligan three's lovely, K-9. Nothing like it - creatures, palm trees, sunshine all day, hot and...

(At that point, the lights on the TARDIS go out. Even the ones on the console. The normal hum of the ship fades to silence. Suddenly, the TARDIS doors open of their own accord, and brilliant white light shines into the room. Somewhere, a harpsichord is playing a formal, noble tune. The Doctor squints as he gazes into the light.)

VOICE: (booming, echoing, male) YOUR PRESENCE IS REQUIRED.
DOCTOR: Loo...l-l-listen, I-I-I-I don't wish to appear rude, but...who are you?
DOCTOR: Well...only a Guardian...

(A crack of thunder echoes through the TARDIS.)

DOCTOR: Oh, I see.

(He bows his head reverently.)

DOCTOR: Well, in that case, sir...
DOCTOR: Just as you say...

(He takes a deep breath, and walks into the light...)


(We look out at an arid desert, sometime in mid-day. Your average, ordinary rocky desert - except for the lounge chair and beach umbrella stuck rather stupidly on the wastes. As the Doctor notices the chair, a figure fades into existence on it - an elderly man with silver Van Dyke beard and hat, dressed in white from head to foot. A red rose is tucked on his lapel. He fades in, taking a long sip of green wine, which he places on the small table which faded in to his side.)

GUARDIAN: Doctor, you have been chosen for a vitally important task.
DOCTOR: That's very flattering, sir.
GUARDIAN: It concerns the Key to Time. You know of the Key to Time?
DOCTOR: Well, I've heard a few stories. Old legends, myths - that sort of thing.
GUARDIAN: (sharply) It is no myth.
DOCTOR: (without missing a beat) Sorry, sir.

(As the Guardian speaks, an image begins to form before us - that of a shimmering crystalline cube, spinning on its corner.)

GUARDIAN: The Key to Time is a perfect cube, which maintains the equilibrium of time itself. It consists of six segments, and these segments are scattered and hidden throughout the cosmos. When they are assembled into the cube, they create a power which is too dangerous for any being to possess.
DOCTOR: (grins helpfully) Well hidden then, I hope sir.
GUARDIAN: There are times, Doctor, when the forces within the universe upset the balance to such an extent that it becomes necessary to stop everything.

(The Guardian takes another sip.)

GUARDIAN: Uh, for a brief moment only.
GUARDIAN: Until the balance is restored. Such a moment is rapidly approaching. These segments must be traced and returned to me before it is too late, before the Universe is plunged into eternal chaos.
DOCTOR: Eternal chaos?
GUARDIAN: Eternal as you understand the term.
DOCTOR: Look, I'm sure there must be plenty of other Time Lords who'd be delighted...
GUARDIAN: I have chosen YOU.
DOCTOR: Yes, I was afraid you'd say something like that. (brightens) Ah! You want me to volunteer, is that it?
GUARDIAN: (smiles) Precisely.
DOCTOR: And if I don't?
GUARDIAN: Nothing.
DOCTOR: Nothing? You mean nothing will happen to me?
GUARDIAN: Nothing at all. EVER.

(It takes the Doctor exactly a second to get the double meaning.)


(The Doctor thinks about it.)

DOCTOR: What do they look like, these segments? How will I know them?
GUARDIAN: They're all disguised.
DOCTOR: (nods) Yes, I thought they might be.
GUARDIAN: They contain the elemental force of the Universe. They can be in any shape, form or size.
DOCTOR: Then how will I recognize them?
GUARDIAN: You will be given a locator.
DOCTOR: (relieved) Thank you.
GUARDIAN: And an assistant.
DOCTOR: An assis... Oh please, sir, on an assignment like this, I'd much rather work alone. In my experience, assistants mean trouble! I have to protect them and show them and teach them and couldn't I...couldn't I just manage with K-9?
GUARDIAN: K-9 is a mere machine.
DOCTOR: He is a VERY sensitive machine! Sorry sir.
GUARDIAN: You will find your assistant waiting for you in the TARDIS.
DOCTOR: Very well, SIR. If you insist.

(The Doctor starts to go.)

GUARDIAN: One final thing, Doctor...

(The Doctor turns back around.)

GUARDIAN: I am the White Guardian. In order to maintain the universal balance, there is also a Black Guardian - and he also requires the Key to Time. But for a different purpose...an evil purpose. He must not get it. At all costs, Doctor, you MUST prevent that.
DOCTOR: (getting snide) HOW am I to prevent THAT?
GUARDIAN: Beware the Black Guardian.
DOCTOR: Beware the Black Guardian...
GUARDIAN: Beware...beware.

(With that, the White Guardian takes another sip of wine and disappears.)


(The Doctor stalks into the TARDIS and kneels by K-9 again. The power's back on now.)

DOCTOR: I'm so sorry, K-9. The holiday's off.

(The Doctor winces.)

DOCTOR: (whispering to K-9) That's the new assistant.

(A tall, slender woman. Looks a LOT like "Star Trek's" Jadzia Dax. Brunette, hair done up in a beehive with tiara. Long flowing white robes, not unlike Princess Leia's. Silver sandals. A brief flash of mile-long leg. A clear-plastic wand of some sort in her hand. K-9 wags his ears at the newcomer.)

WOMAN: My name is Romanadvoratnelundar.
DOCTOR: I'm so sorry about that. Is there anything we can do?
WOMAN: ROMANADV...er...aw heck, just call her Romana. The President of the Supreme Council sent me.

(K-9 takes a "step" back. Romana kneels down and offers the Doctor the wand-thing.)

ROMANA: I was told to give you this.

(The Doctor takes it.)

DOCTOR: What's this?
ROMANA: According to my instructions, it's the core to the Key of Time.
ROMANA: (bright smile) It's very exciting, isn't it?
DOCTOR: Yes, I suppose it must be...for someone as young and inexperienced as you are.
ROMANA: (bristles) I may be "inexperienced", but I did graduate from the Academy with a triple first.

(The Doctor almost busts out laughing.)

DOCTOR: I suppose you think we should be impressed by that too?
ROMANA: Well, it's better than scraping through with 51% on the second attempt.

(The Doctor (almost literally) hits the ceiling. He paces around the room, twiddling the wand around his hands absent-mindedly.)

DOCTOR: THAT INFORMATION'S CONFIDENTIAL!!! That President...I should've thrown him at Suntowers when I had the chance.
ROMANA: (indicating the wand) Oh, do you want to know how that works?
DOCTOR: I KNOW how it works!!

(He's really getting sore. She's hit his every wrong button, and he has yet to find one of hers. And he clearly doesn't know what to do with the wand.)

ROMANA: You have to plug it into your TARDIS controls. Just there.

(The Doctor's jaw drops as he leans in close to the area of the console Romana pointed out.)

DOCTOR: A hole....? What's a hole doing in my TARDIS?!?
ROMANA: I put it there.
DOCTOR: YOU?!? You put a hole in my... (to the TARDIS, soothingly) Never mind, old girl, never mind, I'll soon have it fixed.

(He kisses the console.)

ROMANA: (as if she's reciting it from a book) When plugged into the control console, the core indicates the space-time coordinates of each segment of the Key.
DOCTOR: Well, that's clever. That's very clever.

(He experimentally sticks the thin end of the wand into the hole. A perfect fit. A buzz comes from the console.)

DOCTOR: Ah! 4180.
ROMANA: I'll look up those coordinates, shall I.
DOCTOR: No, there's no need.
ROMANA: Well, don't you want to know what planet it is?
DOCTOR: I know - Selenis Minima.
ROMANA: (blinks) Oh.

(The Doctor finally hits a button.)

DOCTOR: (grins) Just a matter of experience.
ROMANA: Yes...of course...
DOCTOR: What else does it do?
ROMANA: Well, it locates the segment at close range once we've landed on the appropriate planet.
DOCTOR: Uh-huh. Well, that could be very useful.
ROMANA: And then when it's brought into contact with a disguised segment, it converts it back into its proper form. What would you like me to do?
DOCTOR: Well...

(He walks over and leans in close to this over-eager young woman.)

DOCTOR: I'd like you to stay out of my way as much as possible. And try and keep out of trouble. (on her look) I don't suppose you can make tea?
DOCTOR: No no, I don't suppose you can. They don't teach you ANYthing useful at the Academy, do they.

(He turns back to the console, muttering to himself.)

DOCTOR: Gadgets are a gimmick. Never touch, never trust gimmicky gadgets...
ROMANA: That's hardly a gimmick, Doctor.

(He works at the console, and points at a screen.)

DOCTOR: Uh-uh...

(He waits for Romana to join him.)

DOCTOR: The coordinates have changed. They're different already.


(We're at the top of a castle tower somewhere, during a winter evening. It's snowing. A young man in furs pulls himself over the wall of the tower, having clearly taken the hard way up.)

VOICE: (from below) Unstoffe! Hey, Unstoffe, you blithering idiot, give a hand!!

(Unstoffe turns and pulls another man - balding, chubby, in furs - up into the tower.)

UNSTOFFE: Come on the edge. It's slippery.
CLIMBER #2: It's not only slippery, it's punishing cold! Now come on, let's get crackin'.

(The two climbers kneel down next to what looks like a round steel manhole. They begin unscrewing it.)

CLIMBER #2: Now, go on, before we get caught up here.

(They both pull the cover off the manhole. A distant chime booms from nearby.)

CLIMBER #2: Yeah. The moment it stops, drop the meat.


(Inside the apparently palatial castle, one man in furs continues ringing the bell as another cuts out the electric torches with an eagle-head sceptre. We get a good look at a giant glass case in the middle of the room, filled with golden swords, golden sceptres, golden cross-topped orbs, and golden crowns - lots of golden crowns. All of the guards, after bowing to the guy in black furs with the sceptre and bowing to the case, leave. The man then bows to the case himself.)


(A bloody side of beef is chucked down the manhole. Growling noises ensue from within.)

UNSTOFFE: You sure that'll work?
CLIMBER #2: Don't worry. The ladder...come on...get those grapples on there.

(Unstoffe unpacks a chain ladder from their gear. He starts hooking one end of the ladder onto the manhole.)

CLIMBER #2: The other one...drop it...that's the idea.

(He hooks the other end and lets the ladder drop down the hole.)


(The man in black furs closes and bars the door to the glass case room. He clacks the sceptre once on the floor. Two men in furs beside him start pulling on a rope...)


(...and, as if connected, a small wall panel lifts up. Large, green, scaly, bloodstained claws begin to yank at the panel, trying to force it all the way up.)


UNSTOFFE: Why is it always me? Why do I always get these jobs?
CLIMBER #2: You're young. I'm too old to go down there.
UNSTOFFE: Well, I want a chance to be old too!
CLIMBER #2: Unstoffe, at your age I would've climbed down there without the ladder. I'd have gone! I love danger!
UNSTOFFE: Ah! Now you admit it - it IS dangerous!
CLIMBER #2: Don't make me lose faith in you, my boy. Now it's time you went.

(Unstoffe sighs, wraps something around his neck, and starts climbing down the ladder. Climber #2 settling himself against the wall.)

CLIMBER #2: Have you got the Jethrik?
UNSTOFFE: (straining) Of course!
CLIMBER #2: Well, don't drop it wherever. Guard it with your life.
CLIMBER #2: Well, I-I mean, just guard it. Remember its value.

(Timidly, Unstoffe disappears into the manhole.)


(The ladder stops in a dark hay-filled room. The relic room is clearly visible at the far wall, as is the giant green lizard next to it. Although its large yellow eyes are open, it thankfully seems to be snoring. Unstoffe continues on into the trophy room, unslinging the small cloth bag he had around his neck. He pulls out a small suction cup that he sticks to the glass case, and a small knife he uses to cut around the cup.)


(Romana has lost the tiara and put her wavy shoulder-length hair down. She's brushing it out as the Doctor sulks against the doors.)

ROMANA: You're sulking.
DOCTOR: I'm NOT sulking.
ROMANA: That's ridiculous for someone as old as you are.
DOCTOR: I'm NOT old.

(Romana snorts in derision.)

ROMANA: 759?
DOCTOR: 756! That's not old. That's just mature.
ROMANA: (amazed) You've lost count somewhere.
DOCTOR: Well, I ought to know my own age!
ROMANA: Yes, but after the first few centuries, I expect things get a little bit foggy, don't they?

(The Doctor gets to his feet again, flinging down the end of his scarf and leaning against the console.)

DOCTOR: Now listen. It's no good. This isn't going to work.
ROMANA: Doctor, you're not giving me a chance. It's funny you know, but before I met you, I was even willing to be impressed.
DOCTOR: Indeed.
ROMANA: Oh yes. Of course, now I realize that your behaviour simply derives from a subtransitory experiential hypertoid induced condition, aggravated, I expect, by multi and cathological tensions.
DOCTOR: What's that supposed to mean?
ROMANA: Well, to put it very simply, Doctor, you're suffering from a massive compensation syndrome.
DOCTOR: Is that the rubbish they pour into your head at the Academy?
ROMANA: Do you know, I might even use your case in my thesis.
DOCTOR: I'll show YOU whether I'm suffering from a "massive compensation syndrome"!! And you're not going back to Gallifrey. Not for a long time yet, I regret to say.

(He stares at her hard for a moment, then...)

DOCTOR: Read out those coordinates again.

(Romana moves her brush from the console to have a look.)

ROMANA: 4940. Vector's unchanged.
DOCTOR: Same as before. Distance?
ROMANA: 116 parsecs.

(The Doctor checks the console.)

DOCTOR: 116 parsecs...must be the planet of Ribos. If it changes again while we're in the vortex, we could lose it. On the other hand...
ROMANA: Ooh, take a chance.
DOCTOR: I'LL make the decisions here!!!
ROMANA: (that wicked cat-like smile again) Well, what should we do?

(The doctor thinks about it.)

DOCTOR: We'll take a chance.


(In place of the golden piece of royalty that sat there a moment ago, Unstoffe has placed a bluish lump of rock. He pulls out a small cylinder and starts to wave it around the open hole in the case when a beeping noise erupts from his wrist. He flips open the small armband the beeping's coming from.)

UNSTOFFE: Yes, what is it Garron?


(Garron (our second climber) speaks into his own armband. A strange noise can be heard from nearby.)

GARRON: The Graff Vynda-K is arriving. I'm going to go and meet him.


GARRON: (over comm) This is Blue 40 signing off, wilco. Garron out.
UNSTOFFE: Roger. It's "Roger," you stupid old Blue 40!


(Just inside the castle's lower level, a pair of black, fur-wearing men - one young and moustachioed, the other middle-aged, scarred and stubble-faced, and flanked by black-armoured men - face Garron, who offers a scroll to them. Garron, rather than the rough accent he was speaking with Unstoffe, now speaks in a long-winded, haughty tone.)

GARRON: Allow me to present my credentials...
BLACK-FURRED MAN (the young one): Can we get out of this wind first? It's cutting through me like a laser.
GARRON: And the court is prepared for your Highness, but, um...your escort...
BLACK-FURRED MAN: What about them?
GARRON: (indicating the guards) Well, my letter did stress the necessity for discretion. I mean, soldiers stomping about, you know...
2'ND BLACK-FURRED MAN: The Graff never travels without his personal guard.
GARRON: Please. These are primitive people, easily panicked. If any of you frighten them, they could turn very nasty. We don't want any unpleasantness at this stage, do we?
GRAFF: (rubbing his arms for warmth) Oh, let's get inside. Send the guard back, Sholakh.
SHOLAKH (the 2'nd black furred guy): Highness. (to the guards) Royal guard, return to your ship. Dismissed!!

(The guards turn and leave.)

GARRON: (gestures) Ah, this way, Highness.

(The Graff and Sholakh follows the guy into the castle. The foyer is now empty. And a good thing too, because a second later, the TARDIS wheezes and groans into existence where they were standing. The Doctor and Romana step out. Romana is definitely not dressed for this weather, but thankfully the Doctor has a white fur coat tucked under his arm.)

DOCTOR: (takes a deep breath) Ha ha! Fresh!
ROMANA: (rubbing her arms furiously) It's bitter.
DOCTOR: Can't stand the cold, stay out of the freezer. Which way?
DOCTOR: Well, you've got the core.
ROMANA: Oh, yes!

(She checks the wand in her hand. It begins clicking like a Geiger counter as she points it at the castle building.)

ROMANA: Through there. It's a strong signal.
DOCTOR: Good. Now pay attention - I'm not anticipating any trouble, but it's worth it to be prepared for these things. Ground rules - Rule #1: Do exactly as I say. Rule #2: Stick close to me. And Rule #3: Let me do all the talking. Is that perfectly clear?
ROMANA: You couldn't make it clearer.

(The Doctor starts to go, then remembers...)

DOCTOR: One more thing. Your name...
ROMANA: What about my name?
DOCTOR: It's too long. By the time I've called "Look out..." What's your name?
ROMANA: Romanadvoratnelundar.
DOCTOR: By the time I've called THAT out, you could be dead. I'll call you "Romana".
ROMANA: I don't like "Romana"!
DOCTOR: (seething) It's either "Romana" or "Fred"!!
ROMANA: (grins) All right. Call me "Fred".
DOCTOR: Good. Come on, Romana. (suddenly remembers) Here, try it on for size.

(He dumps the white fur coat in Romana's hands. She slips it over her shoulders.)


(The Doctor walks out of view.)

DOCTOR: The secret of survival is always to expect the unexpected...



(Romana glances over at the Doctor. We find him dangling helplessly inside a hanging net, looking pretty stupid.)

ROMANA: Ah. I think this is to stop animals wandering into the city at night. There's a cocking lever there, just beneath the keystone.
DOCTOR: Yes...I wondered if you'd notice that. That's good. That's very good, very good.


(Your typical medieval deluxe lodgings. Plenty of furs and pillows around, candles and torches, a small table. The Graff and Sholakh pull off their fur coats as Garron watches and continues talking in his stuffy, long-winded way.)

GARRON: Ribos orbits its sun elliptically, so its climate is one of extremes. For the natives, the seasons are called "Ice Time" and "Sun Time."

(With the coats removed, the Graff and Sholakh appear to be nobles of some sort - white, black and gold trim for the Graff with a golden breastplate, silver breastplate and chain-mail clothes for Sholakh. The two take a seat.)

GRAFF: How long are the seasons?
GARRON: Approximately 32 of your years, Highness. Unfortunately, of course, you're not seeing the planet at its best just now.

(The GRAFF grabs a flagon of wine.)

GRAFF: If I bought it, Garron, it would not be my intention to spend a lot of time here.
GARRON: For someone in your exalted position, Highness, I should've thought it would've made an ideal second home. I get very few properties so central and so convenient. Only three light-centuries from the Magellanic Clouds.
SHOLAKH: Is Shur the only city?
GARRON: The principal city. There are several settlements to the north, though I've never seen them. Oh, incidentally, if anyone asks you where we're from, just say "The North." I've arranged a travel pass in case of any problems.
GRAFF: Do they know anything about the world?
GARRON: Nothing, Highness.
SHOLAKH: They know that this planet is within the great Sarenic Empire, and that they are protected by the forces of the Alliance?
GARRON: Beyond their comprehension. They are only primitive British peasants, you see.
GRAFF: The property becomes more unattractive every minute.
GARRON: There's a great demand for planets that are completely unspoiled and so central. There are very few of them coming on the market today.
GRAFF: A predictable reply, Garron. You're interested in making a sale?
GARRON: And you are interested in buying, Highness, or you'd not be here. So we're really discussing how much you're willing to pay. Am I right?
GRAFF: A great deal less than the 10 million opecs you're asking.
GARRON: The Magellanic Mining Conglomerate set that valuation.
GRAFF: But you are empowered to accept an offer?

(Garron places a small box filled with papers by the Graff.)

GARRON: I leave the documents of title and mortgage for you to read. And tomorrow, if you're still interested, it will be my pleasure to show you over the city. Until then, may you rest in peace.

(And with that, he leaves. Graff takes a paper.)

GRAFF: I think he'll take 6 million.

(Sholakh takes a paper himself and crosses over to the Graff.)

SHOLAKH: Highness...this is interesting.
GRAFF: What is it?
SHOLAKH: The Conglomerate's mineralogical survey.

(The Graff takes the paper and looks it over. He compares it with his paper.)

GRAFF: Almost 50 years ago. That soon after they acquired title...bismuth, cadmium, ire...

(He leaps out of his chair.)

SHOLAKH: What is it, Highness?
GRAFF: .0001% of mass?!? That's not possible, Sholakh!! That must be a mistake!!

(Sholakh looks over the paper.)

SHOLAKH: Highness....?
GRAFF: Jethrik, the rarest and most valuable mineral in the galaxy!!!
SHOLAKH: As you say. A mistake? If it were true, the Conglomerate would not be selling.

(The Graff looks over his first paper.)

GRAFF: Ahhhh, but wait. There's a condition. "While relinquishing free hold and sojournity over the planet Ribos in the constellation of Skyther, Magellanic Mining," etc., etc..."retains to itself its subsidiaries and appointed agents the exploitation of the mineral wealth of the said planet in perpetuity." They KNOW about it, Sholakh!
SHOLAKH: Does this affect your Highness's plans?
GRAFF: Sholakh, jethrik could guarantee success, and quicker than ever seemed possible!


(Garron's listening to the whole thing on his armband communicator.)

GRAFF: (on comm) This planet contains a fortune, don't you see?!? And all we have to do is dig it out!
GARRON: Good thinking, Graff.

(The sound of heavy footsteps makes Garron slam shut his communicator. He swaggers, regaining his "old voice" as the Doctor and Romana walk by.)

GARRON: 4 o'clock and all's well!

(Garron walks away. The Doctor does a double-take.)

DOCTOR: Extraordinary.
ROMANA: What is?
DOCTOR: What you heard.
ROMANA: "4 of the clock and all's well?" Obviously just a ritual greeting and reassurance.
DOCTOR: But he said it in a Somerset accent. Somerset's one of the Earth countries.
ROMANA: Oh, but there's no space service to Ribos, Doctor. According to Bartholomew's Planetary Gazetteer, it has a protected Class 3 society. So there can't be any Earth aliens on Ribos.
DOCTOR: Maybe he's a cricket scout. Yeah, they could do with a good leg spinner.
ROMANA: What's that supposed to mean?
DOCTOR: What? Oh nothing, nothing. Remember Rule #1. Come on.

(A bit baffled to say the least, Romana follows him down the corridor.)


SHOLAKH: Highness, we must not lose sight of our plan.
GRAFF: Do you think I ever shall? Do you think I can rest for one moment until I've won back the Levithian crown which is mine by right? Everything - EVERYTHING - must be subordinate to that purpose!
SHOLAKH: Forgive me, Highness. I know that nothing will ever weaken your resolve.
GRAFF: Correct, Sholakh. But it would seem that Providence has placed in my hand the weapon already forged.
SHOLAKH: I don't understand.
GRAFF: Sholakh, this planet is ideally placed for use as a forward base. But to give it to technology, to train primitives in a thousand skills, to raise a battle fleet with which to conquer our homeland - would be the work of a lifetime.
SHOLAKH: There is no better way to spend a lifetime.
GRAFF: But if we can find this jethrik...if we mine it and sell it...we could HIRE an army and 100 battle cruisers!
SHOLAKH: You mean from outside the Alliance?
GRAFF: Well, of course! Pontinese ships, mercenaries from Schlangy - why, it might not even be necessary to sell the jethrik. We could trade with them directly.
SHOLAKH: Oh...dangerous if it came to the ears of the Alliance.
GRAFF: The time saved would be worth the risk.


(The Doctor and Romana are now just outside the trophy room. The wand is clicking louder and louder.)

ROMANA: (indicating the door) It's something through there.

(They stroll past the snoring guard. The Doctor unbars the door, but there's still a lock.)

DOCTOR: Did they teach you anything about locks at the Academy?
ROMANA: No, of course not.

(The Doctor pulls out his trusty sonic screwdriver.)

DOCTOR: Sonic screwdriver. You'll like this. Keep an eye on the sentry.
DOCTOR: Sleeping on duty's a serious offence. If anyone comes, you can wake him up.
ROMANA: You do know that sarcasm's an adjusted stress reaction?

(The sonic screwdriver whirrs, unlocking the door. The door swings open.)

ROMANA: Very impressive.
DOCTOR: (shrugs) It was nothing.


(The first thing the two see is the various displays around the room.)

DOCTOR: Ceremonial regalia. Sacred relics.
ROMANA: Must be the state storeroom.

(Romana notices the glass case.)

ROMANA: Magnificent jewellery.
DOCTOR: (sarcastic) Oh, I bet. (serious) Let's just find the segment. It'll be daylight soon.

(The wand begins clicking like crazy as Romana approaches the case.)

ROMANA: It's something in here!
DOCTOR: Good. Let's locate it, convert it, and get out of here before the locals wake up.


(A black-furred sentry walks from the castle interior out onto the balcony, holding a sack of meat. Chimes can be heard in the distance. As he leans down to open the manhole, Unstoffe appears from behind holding a small flagon.)

UNSTOFFE: Top o' the morning to you, my friend.


(Romana looks nervously at the outer door, then back to the case. The Doctor has wriggled under the case, trying to pry open the bottom with his sonic screwdriver.)

ROMANA: Why's it taking so long?
DOCTOR: Because they're multilevered interlocks.
ROMANA: Well, get on with it then!
DOCTOR: (as she leaves) "Get on with it? Get on..."

(He rolls his eyes and gets on with it.)


(The guard takes a long pull from the flagon Unstoffe gave him and returns it. Unstoffe shakes the flagon - nearly empty.)

UNSTOFFE: So, you might as well finish it off.
SHRIEVE: Any more of that stuff and I'll not be able the throw the Shrive...Shrivenzale in for its feed.

(The guard kneels down and starts to open the manhole.)

UNSTOFFE: Here, let me give you a hand.
SHRIEVE: Thanks.

(The manhole is opened. The guard looks down at it nervously.)

SHRIEVE: Is the...is the beast waiting there already? I...I...can't see....m-my eyes...

(The poisoned guard slumps over. Unstoffe drags him to the door. Checks his pulse - dead. Satisfied, Unstoffe looks over at the manhole, and picks up a horn the guard dropped. He gives it a toot.)


(Far below, Romana hears it. She closes the outer door.)

DOCTOR: One more to go.

(The horn toots again. Romana follows the sound to the half-open secret wall. She crawls inside the opening, right next to the sleeping lizard.)


(Guards gather outside the door. The one with the sceptre stands at ready.)

SHRIEVE (with sceptre): Right. Lower away.

(The other guards begin working at a pulley...)


(...and the secret wall begins to shut! Romana gasps - the giant lizard is stirring, waking up.)


(The Doctor pulls himself out from under the case.)

DOCTOR: Romana?
ROMANA: Doctor, I'm over here!!

(He runs over to the secret door. Romana had tried to wriggle under the door, but now it's got her pinned, crushing her. The Doctor gets under as well, trying to push it up.)


(The giant lizard comes fully awake, face covered in blood - not its own blood - and ROARS. The Doctor's eyes go wide...)

Cue Doctor Who theme playing over energy whirlpool.

Doctor Who


The Guardian



Graff Vynda-K




Voice of K-9

Incidental Music

Special Sound

Production Assistant

Production Unit Manager



Visual Effects Designer

Electronic Effects Operator

Video Tape Editor

Costume Designer

Make-Up Artist

Script Editor





Fade out......

Transcribed by
Christopher G. "Nightowl" McElroy

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