All language subtitles for Doctor.Who.2005.50th.Anniversary.Special.720p.BluRay.x264-SHORTBREHD

Viking, North Utsire,
South Utsire,

wind south west,
rain at times, good.

Waste no more time
arguing about what a good man should be.

"Be one."
Marcus Aurelius.

- Have you been running?
- Are you okay?

There was a call for you
at the office.

From your... doctor.

Did he leave an address?

Draught.

Fancy a week in Ancient Mesopotamia,
followed by future Mars?

- Will there be cocktails?
- On the Moon.

The Moon'll do.

How's the new job? Teach anything good?

No. Learn anything?

Not a thing.

- What's happening?
- Whoa, whoa. We're taking off.

But the engines aren't going.

Wait for it to level, Greyhound leader.

Blue Eagle is
airborne and ready to receive.

We're on our way.

Hello?
Kate Stewart's phone. Oh, hold on.

Excuse me! Sorry.

- Ma'am! Ma'am!
- The ravens are looking a bit sluggish.

- Tell Malcolm we need new batteries.
- It's him.

Sorry. It's your personal phone,
but I recognised the ringtone.

- It's him, isn't it?
- Inhaler.

Doctor, hello.
We found the Tardis in a field.

- I'm having it brought in.
- No kidding!

Where are you?

Oh, my God.

Oh, Doctor, I'm so sorry.
We had no idea you were still in there.

Come on.

Roger. New heading, 2-7-0.
Changing course.

Doctor?

Clara!

- Doctor, can you hear me?
- Ow!

I don't think he can hear me.

Next time,
would it kill you to knock?

I'm having you taken directly
to the scene.

Doctor, hello. Are you okay?

I'm just going to pop you on hold.

- Doctor?
- Doctor!

Attention!

- Why am I saluting?
- Doctor.

As Chief Scientific Officer,
may I extend

the official apologies of UNIT...

Kate Lethbridge-Stewart,
a word to the wise.

As I'm sure your father
would have told you,

I don't like being picked up.

That probably sounded better
in his head.

I'm acting on instructions
direct from the throne.

Sealed orders from Her Majesty
Queen Elizabeth the First.

The Queen? The First?

- Sorry, Elizabeth the First?
- Her credentials are inside.

No, inside.

Nice scarf.

- What's our cover story for this?
- Um, Derren Brown.

- Again?
- Oh, we sent him flowers.

Attention! Right, I want
a secure perimeter around the gallery.

Did you know her? Elizabeth the First?

- Unified Intelligence Task Force.
- Sorry?

This lot. UNIT. They investigate
alien stuff. Anything alien.

- What, like you?
- I work for them.

You have a job?

Why shouldn't I have a job?
I'd be brilliant at having a job.

- You don't have a job.
- I do. This is my job. I'm doing it now.

- You never have a job.
- I do! I do.

Elizabeth's credentials, Doctor.

But...

But that's not possible.

No more.

"No more."

- That's the title.
- I know the title.

Also known as Gallfray Falls.

This painting doesn't belong here.
Not in this time or place.

Obviously.

It's the fa ll of Arcadia,
Ga llifrey's second city.

But how is it doing that?
How is that possible?

It's an oil painting...

...in 3D.

Time Lord art.

Bigger on the inside.
A slice of real time,

frozen.

Elizabeth told us
where to find it,

and its significance.

- You okay?
- He was there.

- Who was?
- Me.

The other me.
The one I don't talk about.

I don't understand.

I've had many faces. Many lives.

I don't admit to all of them.
There's one life I've tried

very hard to forget.

No more...

He was the Doctor
who fought in the Time War,

and that was the day he did it.
The day I did it.

The day he killed them all.

The last day of the Time War,

the war to end all wars
between my people and the Daleks.

And in that battle, there was a man

with more blood on his hands
than any other.

A man who would commit a crime
that would silence the universe.

And that man was me.

Exterminate.

Exterminate. Exterminate.

A message for the High Council.
Priority Omega.

Arcadia has fallen.
I repeat, Arcadia has fallen.

Soldier, I'm going to need your gun.

Exterminate. Exterminate.

Exterminate.

Please... Please, just don't...

Alert. Alert.

The Doctor is detected.

The Doctor is surrounded.

Inform High Command,
we have the Doctor.

Seek. Locate. Destroy.

The Doctor is detected.

Seek. Locate. Destroy.

Seek.

The Doctor is escaping.

What are these words?

Explain. Explain.

The High Council
is in emergency session.

- They have plans of their own.
- To hell with the High Council.

Their plans have already failed.
Gallifrey's still in the line of fire.

So, he was there, then.

He left a message.
A written warning for the Daleks.

- He's a fool.
- No, he's a madman.

As you can see, sir, all
Dalek fleets surrounding the planet

are now converging on the capitol,
but the Sky Trenches are holding.

Where did he go next?

What does it matter?
This is their biggest ever attack.

- Sir, they're throwing everything at us.
- Sir?

We have a security breach
to the Time Vaults.

The Omega Arsenal.

Where all the forbidden weapons
are locked away.

They're not forbidden any more.
We've used them all against the Daleks.

No. No, we haven't.

The Moment is gone.

I don't understand. What is the Moment?
I've never heard of it.

The galaxy eater.

The final work
of the ancients of Gallifrey.

A weapon so powerful,
the operating system became sentient.

According to legend,
it developed a conscience.

And we've never used it?

How do you use a weapon
of ultimate mass destruction

when it can stand in judgment on you?

There is only one man
who would even try.

Time Lords of Gallfray,

Daleks of Skaro,

I serve notice on you all.

Too long have I stayed my hand.
No more.

Today, you leave me no choice.

Today, this war will end.

No more.

No more.

Now,

how do you work?

Why is there never a big red button?

Hello?

- Is somebody there?
- It's nothing.

It's just a wolf.

- Don't sit on that!
- Why not?

Because it's not a chair,

it's the most dangerous weapon
in the universe.

Why can't it be both?

Why'd you park so far away?

Didn't you want her to see it?

- Want who to see?
- The Tardis.

You walked for miles.

- And miles and miles and miles.
- I was thinking!

- I heard you.
- You heard me?

"No more."

No more.

- No more.
- No more.

- No...
- No more.

- Stop it.
- No more!

- No more.
- Who are you?

It's activated. Get out of here.

Ow!

- What's wrong?
- The interface is hot.

Well, I do my best.

There's a power source inside...

You're the interface?

They must have told you
the Moment had a conscience.

Hello!

Aw, look at you.

Stuck between a girl and a box.

- Story of your life, eh, Doctor?
- You know me?

I hear you.

All of you,

jangling around
in that dusty old head of yours.

I chose this face and form
especially for you.

It's from your past.

Or possibly your future.
I always get those two mixed up.

- I don't have a future.
- I think I'm called, erm...

Rose Tyler.

No. Yes. No, sorry.
In this form,

I'm called

Bad Wolf.

Are you afraid
of the big bad wolf, Doctor?

Stop calling me "Doctor".

- That's the name in your head.
- It shouldn't be.

I've been fighting this war
for a long time.

I've lost the right to be the Doctor.

Then you're the one to save us all.

Yes.

If I ever develop an ego,
you've got the job.

If you have been inside my head,

then you know what I have seen.

The suffering.

Every moment in time and space
is burning.

It must end.

And I intend to end it
the only way I can.

And you're going to use me to end it

by killing them all,
Daleks and Time Lords alike.

I could.

But there will be consequences for you.

I have no desire to survive this.

Then that's your punishment.

If you do this, if you kill them all,
then that's the consequence.

You live.

Ga llifrey...

You're going to burn it,

and all those Daleks with it,
but all those children, too.

How many children
on Gallifrey right now?

I don't know.

One day, you will count them.

One terrible night.

Do you want to see
what that will turn you into?

Come on, aren't you curious?

I'm opening windows on your future.

The tangle in time
through the days to come

to the man today will make of you.

Okay. I wasn't expecting that.

But the Time War's over. Why have you
brought us here to look at a painting?

The painting only serves
as Elizabeth's credentials,

proof that the letter is from her.
It's not why you're here.

My dearest love,

I hope the painting known as
Gallifrey Falls will serve as proof

that it is your Elizabeth
who writes to you now.

You will recall
that you pledged yourself

to the safety of my kingdom.

In this capacity, I have appointed you
as curator of the Under-Gallery,

where deadly danger to England
is locked away.

Should any disturbance occur
within its walls,

it is my wish that you be summoned.
Godspeed, gentle husband.

- What happened?
- Easier to show you.

McGillop.

But that's not possible.
I was just...

Understood, sir,
but why would I take it there?

Elizabeth I?
You knew her, then?

A long time ago.

Allons-y!

There you go, Your Majesty,
what did I tell you?

Bigger on the inside.

The door isn't.
You nearly took my head off.

It's normally me who does that.

Tell me, Doctor,
why I'm wasting my time on you.

I have wars to plan.

You have a picnic to eat.

You could help me.

Well, I'm helping you eat the picnic.

But you have a stomach for war.

This face has seen conflict.
It's clear as day.

Oh, I've seen conflict
like you wouldn't believe.

But it wasn't this face.

But never mind that, Your Majesty!
Up on your feet. Hup!

How dare you?
I'm the Queen of England.

I'm not English.

Elizabeth,

will you marry me?

Oh, my dear sweet love,
of course I will.

- Ah! Gotcha!
- My love?

One, the real Elizabeth would never
have accepted my marriage proposal.

Two, the real Elizabeth would notice

when I just casually mention
having a different face.

But then, the real Elizabeth

isn't a shape-shifting alien
from outer space.

And...

- What's that?
- It's a machine that goes "ding".

Made it myself. Lights up
in the presence of shapeshifter DNA.

Ooh.

Also, it can microwave frozen dinners
from up to 20 feet,

and download comics from the future.
I never know when to stop.

- My love, I do not understand.
- I'm not your love, and yes, you do.

- You're a Zygon.
- A Zygon?

Oh, stop it, it's over. A Zygon, yes.

Big red rubbery thing, covered
in suckers. Surprisingly good kisser.

Do you think the real queen of England
would just decide to share her throne

with any old handsome bloke
in a tight suit,

just 'cause he's got amazing hair
and a nice horse...

Oh, it was the horse!

I'm going to be king.

Run!
What's happening?

We're being attacked by a
shape-shifting alien from outer space,

- formerly disguised as my horse.
- What does that mean?

It means we're going to need
a new horse.

- Where's it going?
- I'll hold it off.

You run. Your people need you.

And I need you alive
for our wedding day.

Oh, good work, Doctor. Nice one.

The Virgin Queen.
So much for history.

Come on! I know you're there!

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

Oh, very clever.

Whatever you've got planned,
forget it. I'm the Doctor.

I'm 904 years old.

I'm from the planet Gallifrey
in the constellation of Kasterborous.

I am the oncoming storm,
the bringer of darkness, and you...

are basically just a rabbit,
aren't you?

Okay. Carry on.
just a general warning.

Doctor!

Elizabeth!

That thing, explain what it is.
What does it want of us?

That's what I'm trying to find out.
Probably just your planet.

Doctor?

Step away from her, Doctor.
That's not me. That's the creature.

How is that possible? She's me!

- Doctor, she's me!
- I am indeed "me".

A compliment that cannot be extended
to yourself.

Extraordinary. The creature
has captured my exact likeness.

- This is exceptional.
- Exceptional?

- A queen would call it impertinent.
- A queen would feel compelled

to admire the skill of the execution,

- before arranging one.
- Argh, it's not working!

One might surmise that the creature
would learn quickly to protect itself

from any simple means of detection.

Clearly, you understand the creature
better than I.

But then, you have the advantage.

Back! Both of you, now!
That's a time fissure.

A tear in the fabric of reality.
Anything could happen.

For instance, a fez.

This way.

Welcome to the Under-Gallery.

This is where Elizabeth I kept all art

deemed too dangerous
for public consumption.

- Stone dust.
- Is it important?

In 1,200 years, I've never stepped
in anything that wasn't.

Oi! You!

- Are you sciencey?
- Oh, um, well, yes.

- Got a name?
- Yes...

Good. I've always wanted to meet
someone called "Yes".

Now, I want this stone dust analysed.

And I want a report, in triplicate,

with lots of graphs and diagrams
and complicated sums,

on my desk, tomorrow morning,
ASAP, pronto, LOL.

See? job. Do I have a desk?

- No.
- And I want a desk.

Get a team. Analyse the stone dust.

Inhaler.

Someday, you could just walk past a fez.

Never gonna happen.

As you instructed.
Nothing has been touched.

This is why we called you in.

3D again.

- Interesting.
- The broken glass?

No, where it's broken from.

Look at the shatter pattern.
The glass in all these paintings

has been broken from the inside.

As you can see,
all the paintings are landscapes.

- No figures of any kind.
- So?

There used to be.

- Something's got out of the paintings?
- Lots of somethings.

Dangerous.

This whole place has been searched.
There's nothing here that shouldn't be,

and nothing's got out.

- Oh, no, not now.
- Doctor, what is it?

No, not now! I'm busy.

- Is it to do with the paintings?
- No, no. This is different.

I remember this. Almost remember.

Oh, of course.

This is where I come in.

Geronimo!

- Doctor!
- Wait!

- Who is this man?
- That's just what I was wondering.

Oh, that is skinny.
That is proper skinny.

I've never seen it from the outside.
It's like a special effect.

Oi, matchstick man.

You're not...

- Compensating?
- For what?

- Regeneration. It's a lottery.
- Oh, he's cool.

Isn't he cool?
"I'm the Doctor, and I'm all cool.

"Oops, I'm wearing sandshoes."

- What are you doing here? I'm busy.
- Oh, busy? I see.

Is that what we're calling it, eh? Eh?

- Hello, ladies.
- Don't start.

Listen, what you get up to in
the privacy of your own regeneration

- is your business...
- One of them is a Zygon.

Ugh. I'm not judging you.

- Oh!
- Oh, lovely!

Your Majesties?
Probably a good time to run.

But what about the creature?

Elizabeth, whichever one of you
is the real one, turn and run

in the opposite direction
to the other one.

- Of course, my love.
- Stay alive, my love.

- I am not done with you yet.
- Oh!

- Thanks. Lovely.
- I understand.

Live for me, my darling.
We shall be together again.

Well, won't that be nice.

- One of those was a Zygon?
- Yeah.

Big red rubbery thing covered
in suckers? Venom sacs in the tongue?

- Yeah, I'm getting the point, thank you.
- Nice.

- Doctor, is that you?
- Ah, hello, Clara! Can you hear me?

Yeah, it's me. We can hear you.
Where are you?

- Where are we?
- England, 1562.

- Who are you talking to?
- Myself.

Can you come back through?

Physical passage may not be possible
in both directions. It's... Ah!

Hang on. Fez incoming!

Nothing here.

So where did it go?

- Who's he talking to?
- He said, himself.

Keep him talking.

Malcolm?

Malcolm, I need you to send me
one of my father's incident files.

Codenamed "Cromer: '70s or '80s,
depending on the dating protocol.

Okay. You used to be me.
You've done all this before.

- What happens next?
- I don't remember.

- How can you forget this?
- Hey, hang on, it's not my fault.

You're obviously not paying
enough attention. Reverse the polarity.

It's not working.

- We're both reversing the polarity.
- Yes, I know that.

There's two of us. I'm reversing it,
and you're reversing it back again.

We're confusing the polarity.

Anyone lose a fez?

You.
How can you be here?

More to the point, why are you here?

Good afternoon.
I'm looking for the Doctor.

Well, you've certainly come
to the right place.

Good. Right. Who are you boys?

Of course. Are you his companions?

- His companions?
- They get younger all the time.

Well, if you could point me in
the general direction of the Doctor...

- Really?
- Yeah.

- Really.
- You're me?

- Both of you?
- Yup.

- Even that one?
- Yes!

You're my future selves?

- Yes.
- Am I having a mid-life crisis?

Why are you pointing
your screwdrivers like that?

They are scientific instruments,
not water-pistols!

You look like you've seen a ghost.

Still, loving the posh, gravelly thing.
It's very convincing.

Brave words, Dick Van Dyke.

Encircle them!

Which of you is the Doctor?

The Queen of England is bewitched.
I would have the Doctor's head.

Well, this has all the makings
of your lucky day.

I think there's
three of them now.

There's a precedent for that.

- What is that?
- Oh, the pointing again.

They're screwdrivers.

What are you going to do,
assemble a cabinet at them?

That thing, what witchcraft is it?

Ah! Yes, now that you mention it,
that is witchcraft.

Yes, yes, yes, witchy witchcraft.
Hello?

Hello in there, excuse me, hello.

Am I talking to
the wicked witch of the well?

- He means you.
- Why am I the witch?

- Clara?
- Hello?

Clara, hi. Hello.

Hello. Would you mind telling
these prattling mortals

- to get themselves begone?
- What he said.

- A tiny bit more colour?
- Right.

Prattling mortals!
Off you... pop!

- Or I'll turn you all into frogs.
- Oh.

- Frogs. Nice. You heard her.
- Doctor, what's going on?

It's, er, a timey-wimey thing.

Timey what? "Timey-wimey"?

I've no idea
where he picks that stuff up.

- The Queen!
- The Queen!

You don't seem to be kneeling.
How tremendously brave of you.

Which one are you?
What happened to the other one?

Indisposed.

- Long live the Queen.
- Long live the Queen!

Arrest these men.
Take them to the Tower.

That is not the Queen of England.
That's an alien duplicate.

And you can take it from him,
'cause he's really checked.

- Oh, shut up.
- Venom sacs in the tongue.

- Seriously, stop it.
- No, hang on. The Tower.

Did you say the Tower?
Ah, yes. Brilliant.

Love the Tower. Breakfast
at 8:00, please. Will there be wi-fi?

Are you capable of speaking
without flapping your hands about?

Yes. No. I demand to be incarcerated

in the Tower immediately
with my co-conspirators,

- Sandshoes and Grandad.
- "Grandad"?

- They're not sandshoes.
- Yes, they are.

Silence. The Tower is not
to be taken lightly.

- Very few emerge again.
- Dear God, that man's clever.

- Come on.
- Where are we going?

My office, otherwise known as
the Tower of London.

Oi, you lot, get in there.

Three of us in one cell?

That's going to cause some nasty
anomalies if we don't get out soon.

What are you doing?

- Getting us out.
- The sonic won't work on that.

It's too primitive.

Shall we ask for a better quality
of door, so we can escape?

Okay, so the Queen of England
is now a Zygon.

Never mind that.
Why are we all together?

Why are we all here?

Me and Chinny, we were surprised,
but you came looking for us.

You knew it was going to happen.
Who told you?

Ilchinnyll?

Yeah, you do have a chin.

Marble, granite...

A lot of different stone,

but none of it from
the fabric of the building.

It's like somebody smashed up
a lot of old statues.

- Are there any missing?
- Don't think so.

Why would anyone do that, anyway?

I mean, I know we're meant
to keep an open mind,

but are we supposed to believe in
creatures that can hide in oil paintings

and have some sort of a grudge
against statues?

You all right?

We have to go, right now.
This minute.

- What's wrong?
- The things from the paintings.

I know why they smashed the statues.

- Why?
- Because they needed somewhere to hide.

The Doctor will save me.
The Doctor will save me.

The Doctor will save me,
the Doctor will save me...

Excuse me. I'm going to need my inhaler.

I so hate it
when I get one with a defect.

Ooh, you've got some perfectly horrible
memories in here, haven't you?

So jealous of your pretty sister.

I don't blame you.
I wish I'd copied her.

So do I.

Oh, for goodness' sake.

The Doctor
will be trying to send us a message.

We're looking for a string of numerals,
from around 1550, approximately.

Priority one. I'm going to need access
to the Black Archive.

Black Archive. Highest security rating
on the planet.

The entire staff have their memories
wiped at the end of every shift.

Automated memory filters
on the ceiling. Access, please.

Ma'am.

- Atkins, isn't it?
- Yes, ma'am. First day here.

Been here ten years.

Lock and key?
Bit basic, isn't it?

Can't afford electronic security
down here. Got to keep the Doctor out.

The whole of the Tower
is Tardis-proofed.

He really wouldn't approve
of the collection.

- But you let me in.
- You have a top-level security rating

- from your last visit.
- Sorry, my what?

Apologies. We have to screen
all his known associates.

Can't have information
about the Doctor and the Tardis

falling into the wrong hands.

The consequences could be disastrous.

- What is that?
- Time travel.

A vortex manipulator
bequeathed to the UNIT archive

by Captain jack Harkness
on the occasion of his death.

Well, one of them.

No one can know we have this,
not even our allies.

- Why not?
- Think about it.

Americans with the ability
to rewrite history.

You've seen their movies.

Okay, so this is how
we're going to rescue the Doctor?

Not sure there's enough power
for a two-way trip.

In any event, we don't have
the activation code.

The Doctor knows we have this,
so he's always kept the code from us.

Let's hope he changes his mind.

Yes?

Well, if you've found it, photograph it
and send it to my phone.

Um, Kate?

Should they be here?
Why have they followed us?

Oh, they've probably just finished

- disposing of the humans a bit early.
- The hu...?

Dear me.

I really do get into character, don't I?

The Under-Gallery
is secured.

Prepare to dispose
of one more human.

We have acquired the device.

Activation code, right?

In theory, I can trigger
an isolated sonic shift

among the molecules,
and the door should disintegrate.

You'd have to calculate the harmonic
resonance of the entire structure

down to a sub-atomic level.
Even the sonic would take years.

No, no. The sonic would take centuries.

Well, we might as well get started.
Help to pass the "timey-wimey".

Do you have to talk like children?

What is it that makes you so ashamed
of being a grown-up?

Oh, the way you both look at me.
What is that?

I'm trying to think of a better word
than "dread".

Must be really recent, for you.

Recent?

The Time War. The last day.
The day you killed them all.

- The day we killed them all.
- Same thing.

It's history for them. All decided.

They think their future is real.
They don't know it's still up to you.

I don't talk about it.

You're not talking about it.
There's no one else here.

Go on. Ask them.
Ask them what you need to know.

- Did you ever count?
- Count what?

How many children there were
on Gallifrey, that day.

I've absolutely no idea.

How old are you now?

I don't know. I lose track.

Twelve hundred and something,
I think. Unless I'm lying.

I can't remember if I'm lying
about my age, that's how old I am.

Four hundred years older than me.
And in all that time,

you never even wondered
how many there were?

You never once counted?

Tell me,

what would be the point?

2.47 billion.

You did count!

You forgot? Four hundred years?
Is that all it takes?

- I moved on.
- Where?

Where can you be now, that you can
forget something like that?

- Spoilers.
- No.

No, no, no. For once, I would like
to know where I'm going.

No, you really wouldn't.

I don't know who you are,
either of you.

- I haven't got the faintest idea.
- They're you.

They're what you become,
if you destroy Gallifrey.

The man who regrets,
and the man who forgets.

The moment is coming.

The moment is me.
You have to decide.

- No.
- "No"?

Just...

No.

Is something funny?

- Did I miss a funny thing?
- Sorry.

It just occurred to me,
this is what I'm like when I'm alone.

It's the same screwdriver.

Same software, different case.

Ah.

- Four hundred years.
- Sorry?

Well, at a software level, they're all
the same device, aren't they?

Same software, different case.

Yes, so...

So...

It would take centuries
for the screwdriver to calculate

how to disintegrate the door.

Scanning the door,
implanting the calculation

as a permanent subroutine
in the software architecture...

And if you really are me,

with your sandshoes
and your dickie-bow,

and that screwdriver is still mine,

that calculation is still going on.

Yeah! Still going.

- Calculation complete.
- Same software. Different face.

Hey. 400 years in four seconds!
We may have had our differences,

which is frankly odd,
in the circumstances,

but I tell you what, boys,
we are incredibly clever.

- How did you do that?
- It wasn't locked.

Right.

- So they're both you, then, yeah?
- Yes. You've met them before.

- Don't you remember?
- A bit. Nice suit.

- Thanks.
- Hang on.

Three of you in one cell, and
none of you thought to try the door?

- Should have been locked.
- Yes, exactly. Why wasn't it locked?

Because I was fascinated to see
what you would do upon escaping.

I understand you're rather fond
of this world.

It's time, I think, you saw
what's going to happen to it.

Kate! Goodness,
you're not actually dead.

Oh, that's tremendous news.

Those creatures,
they turn themselves into copies.

Maybe they need to
keep the original alive.

- Refresh the image, so to speak.
- Oh. Where did they go?

I don't know. Hang on, yes, I do.
The Tower.

If those creatures have got access
to the Black Archive,

we may just have lost control
of the planet.

The Zygons lost their own world.

It burned in the first days
of the Time War.

A new home is required.

- So they want this one?
- Not yet. Far too primitive.

Zygons are used to
a certain level of comfort.

Commander.

- Why are these creatures here?
- Because I say they should be.

It is time you, too, were translated.

Observe this.
I believe you will find it fascinating.

That's him. That's the Zygon,
in the picture, now.

It's not a picture.
It's a Stasis Cube.

Time Lord art.
Frozen instants in time.

Bigger on the inside,
but could be deployed as...

Suspended animation.
Oh, that's very good.

The Zygons all pop inside the pictures,
wait a few centuries

till the planet's a bit more interesting
and then out they come.

You see, Clara? They're stored in
the paintings in the Under-Gallery

like Cup-a-Soups, except you add time,
if you can picture that.

Nobody can picture that.
Forget I said "Cup-a-Soups".

And now the world is worth conquering.

So the Zygons
are invading the future from the past?

Exactly.

And do you know why
I know that you're a fake?

Because you're such a bad copy.

It's not just the smell,
or the unconvincing hair,

or the atrocious teeth, or the eyes
just a bit too close together,

or the breath that could stun a horse.

It's because my Elizabeth,
the real Elizabeth,

would never be stupid enough
to reveal her own plan.

Honestly, why would you do that?

Because it's not my plan.
And I am the real Elizabeth.

Okay, so,

backtracking a moment just to lend
some context to my earlier remarks...

My twin is dead in the forest.
I am accustomed to taking precautions.

These Zygon creatures never even
considered that it was me who survived,

rather than their own commander.
The arrogance that typifies their kind.

ZY90ns?

- Men.
- And you actually killed one of them?

I may have the body
of a weak and feeble woman,

but at the time, so did the Zygon.

The future of my kingdom
is imperilled.

Doctor, can I rely on your service?

- I'm going to need my Tardis.
- It has been procured already.

But first, my love,
you have a promise to keep.

I now pronounce you
man and wife.

You may kiss the bride.

- Is there a lot of this in the future?
- It does start to happen, yeah.

- Godspeed, my love.
- I will be right back.

Wooh!

Right then,
back to the future.

You've let this place go a bit.

Ah, it's his grunge phase.
He grows out of it.

Don't you listen to them.

- Oh!
- The desktop is glitching.

Three of us from different time zones.
It's trying to compensate.

Hey, look. The round things.

- I love the round things.
- What are the round things?

- No idea.
- Oh, dear, the friction contrafibulator!

Ha! There, stabilised.

Oh, you've redecorated.
I don't like it.

Oh, yeah? Oh, you never do. Listen.

We're going to the National Gallery.
The Zygons are underneath it.

No, UNIT HQ. They followed us there.
In the Black Archive.

Okay, so you've heard of that, then.

The equipment here is phenomenal.

The humans don't realise
what half this stuff does.

We could conquer their world in a day.

We were fortunate, then,
in our choice of duplicate.

If I were human,
I'd say it was Christmas.

No, I'm afraid you wouldn't.
We're not armed. You may relax.

We are armed. You may not.

Lock the door.
I'm afraid we can't be interrupted.

- You don't mind if I get comfortable?
- You don't mind if I do?

You'll realise there are protocols
protecting this place. Osgood?

In the event of alien incursion,
the contents of this room

are deemed so dangerous,
it will self-destruct in...

Five minutes.

There's a nuclear warhead
20 feet beneath us.

Are you sitting comfortably?

- You would destroy London?
- To save the world? Yes, I would.

- You're bluffing.
- You really think so?

Somewhere in your memory
is a man called

Brigadier Alistair Gordon
Lethbridge-Stewart.

I am his daughter.

Science leads, Kate.
Is that what you meant?

- Is that what your father meant?
- Doctor?

Space-time telegraph, Kate.
A gift from me to your father.

Hotline straight to the Tardis.
I know about the Black Archive,

and I know about the security protocol.
Kate, please...

Please tell me you are not about to
do something unbelievably stupid.

- I'm sorry, Doctor. Switch it off.
- Not as sorry as you will be.

This is not a decision
you will ever be able to live with!

Kate!

Argh! We're trying to bring
the Tardis in. Why can't we land?

- I said switch it off.
- No, Kate, please, just listen to me!

- Tower of London. Totally Tardis-proof.
- How can they do that?

Alien technology, plus human stupidity.
Trust me, it's unbeatable.

We don't need to land.

Yeah, we do, a tiny bit.
Try and keep up.

No, we don't. We don't.
There is another way.

"Cup-a-Soup".

What is Cup-a-Soup?

- What happened?
- Easier to show you.

McGillop.

Take a look at your phone
and confirm who you're talking to.

But that's not possible.
I was just...

You were just talking to me. I know.
I'm a time-traveller. Figure it out.

I need you to send the Gallfray Falls
painting to the Black Archive.

Understood?
Understood, sir,

but why would I take it there?

One word from you
would cancel the countdown.

- Quite so.
- It's keyed to your voice print.

- And mine alone.
- Not any more.

- Cancel the detonation.
- Countermanded.

- Cancel the detonation.
- Countermanded!

- We only have to agree to live.
- Sadly, we can only agree to die.

Please, Doctor, please save us.

Please save us, please save us,
please save us, please save us...

Exterminate!

- Hello.
- I'm the Doctor.

Sorry about the Dalek.

- Also the showing-off.
- Kate Lethbridge-Stewart,

what in the name of sanity
are you doing?

The countdown can only be halted
at my personal command.

- There's nothing you can do.
- Except make you both agree to halt it.

Not even for three of you.

You're about to murder
millions of people.

To save billions. How many times
have you made that calculation?

Once. It turned me into
the man I am now.

Not even sure who that is any more.
You tell yourself it's justified,

but it's a lie,
because what I did that day was wrong.

Just wrong.
And because I got it wrong,

I'm going to make you get it right.

How?

Any second now,
you're going to stop that countdown.

Both of you, together.

And then you're going to negotiate
the most perfect treaty of all time.

Safeguards all round.
Completely fair on both sides.

- And the key to perfect negotiation...
- ...is not knowing what side you're on.

So, for the next few hours,
until we decide to let you out...

No one in this room
will be able to remember

if they're human or a Zygon.
Whoops-a-daisy!

Cancel the detonation!

Peace in our time.

It's funny, isn't it? If I'm a Zygon,
then my clothes must be Zygon too.

So, what happens if I lose a shoe
or something?

Hello.

Hello.

I'm Clara.
We haven't really met yet.

I look forward to it.

- Is there a problem?
- The Doctor, my...

My Doctor... He's always talking about
the day he did it.

The day he wiped out the Time Lords
to stop the war.

- One would.
- You wouldn't.

'Cause you haven't done it yet.
It's still in your future.

- You're very sure of yourself.
- He regrets it.

I see it in his eyes every day.
He'd do anything to change it.

Including saving all these people?

How many worlds
has his regret saved, do you think?

Look over there. Humans and Zygons,
working together in peace.

How did you know?

Your eyes.

You're so much younger.

Then, all things considered,

it's time I grew up.

I've seen all I needed.

The moment has come.

- I'm ready.
- I know you are.

Who's there?

Who are you talking to?

Well, you wanted
a big red button.

One big bang. No more Time Lords,

no more Daleks.

Are you sure?

I was sure when I came in here.

- There is no other way.
- You've seen the men you will become.

Those men. Extraordinary.

- They were you.
- No.

They are the Doctor.

- You're the Doctor, too.
- No.

Great men are forged in fire.

It is the privilege of lesser men
to light the flame.

Whatever the cost.

You know the sound the Tardis makes?

That wheezing groaning?

That sound brings hope
wherever it goes.

Yes. Yes, I like to think it does.

To anyone who hears it, Doctor.

Anyone.

However lost.

Even you.

I told you
he hasn't done it yet.

Go away, now. All of you.
This is for me.

These events should be time-locked.
We shouldn't even be here.

So something let us through.

- You clever boys.
- Go back.

Go back to your lives.

Go and be the Doctor
that I could never be.

Make it worthwhile.

All those years
burying you in my memory.

Pretending you didn't exist.

Keeping you a secret,
even from myself.

Pretending you weren't the Doctor,

when you were the Doctor
more than anybody else.

You were the Doctor on the day
it wasn't possible to get it right.

But this time,

you don't have to do it alone.

Thank you.

What we do today
is not out of fear or hatred.

It is done because
there is no other way.

And it is done in the name
of the many lives

we are failing to save.

What?

What is it? What?

- Nothing.
- No.

Something. Tell me.

You told me you wiped out
your own people. I just...

I never pictured you doing it.
That's all.

Take a closer look.

- What's happening?
- Nothing.

It's a projection.

It's the reality around you.

These are the people
you're going to burn?

There isn't anything we can do.

You're right. There isn't another way.
There never was.

Either I destroy my own people,
or let the universe burn.

Look at you. The three of you.

The warrior. The hero.

And you.

And what am I?

- Have you really forgotten?
- Yes.

Maybe, yes.

We've got enough warriors.
Any old idiot can be a hero.

Then what do I do?

What you've always done.

Be a Doctor.

You told me the name you chose
was a promise. What was the promise?

Never cruel or cowardly.

Never give up. Never give in.

You're not actually suggesting that
we change our own personal history?

We change history all the time.

- I'm suggesting something far worse.
- What, exactly?

Gentlemen, I have had 400 years

to think about this.

I've changed my mind.

There's still a billion billion Daleks
up there, attacking.

Yep, there is. There is. But...

there's something
those billion billion Daleks don't know.

'Cause if they did,
they'd probably send for reinforcements.

- What? What don't they know?
- This time, there's three of us.

Uh!

Oh, yes, that is good!
That is brilliant.

Oh! Oh, I'm getting that too!
That is brilliant!

I've been thinking about it
for centuries.

She didn't just show me
any old future.

She told me exactly the future
I needed to see!

- Now you're getting it.
- Eh?

- Bad Wolf Girl, I could kiss you.
- Yup, that's gonna happen.

Sorry, did you just say "Bad Wolf"?

So, what are we doing?
What's the plan?

The Dalek fleets are surrounding
Gallifrey, firing on it constantly.

The Sky Trench is holding.
But what if the whole planet

- just disappeared?
- Tiny bit of an ask.

The Daleks would be firing
on each other.

They'd destroy themselves
in their own crossfire.

Gallifrey will be gone.
The Daleks will be destroyed.

And it would look
to the rest of the universe

- as if they'd annihilated each other.
- But where would Gallifrey be?

Frozen.

Frozen in an instant of time,

safe and hidden away.

- Exactly.
- Like a painting.

Another one.

Are you sure the message
is from him?

- Oh, yes.
- Why would he do that?

What's the mad fool
talking about now?

Hello.
Hello, Gallifrey High Command.

- This is the Doctor speaking.
- Hello!

- Also the Doctor. Can you hear me?
- Also the Doctor.

Standing ready.

Dear God. Three of them.

All my worst nightmares at once.

General, we have a plan.

We should point out at this moment
it is a fairly terrible plan,

- and almost certainly won't work.
- I was happy with "fairly terrible."

Sorry, I was just thinking aloud.

We are flying our three Tardises
into your lower atmosphere.

We're positioned at equidistant
intervals around the globe.

"Equidistant." So grown-up.

Just about ready to do it.

- Ready to do what?
- We're going to freeze Gallifrey.

I'm sorry? What?

Using our Tardises,
we're gonna freeze Gallifrey

- in a single moment in time.
- You know, like those Stasis Cubes?

Single moment in time,
held in a parallel pocket universe.

Except we're going to do it
to a whole planet.

- And all the people on it.
- What?

Even if that were possible,
which it isn't,

- why would you do such a thing?
- Because the alternative is burning.

- And I've seen that.
- And I never want to see it again.

We'd be lost in another universe,

frozen in a single moment.
We'd have nothing.

You would have hope.

And right now, that is
exactly what you don't have.

It's delusional.
Why, the calculations alone

would take hundreds of years.

- Oh, hundreds and hundreds.
- But don't worry.

I started a very long time ago.

Warning the War Council of Gallifrey.
This is the Doctor.

You might say
I've been doing this all my lives.

- Good luck
- Stand by.

- Ready.
- Commencing calculations.

Soon be there.

Across the boundaries
that divide one universe from another.

- We'll lock onto its coordinates.
- And for my next trick...

I didn't know when I was well off.
All twelve of them!

No, sir. Argh!

All thirteen!

Sir, the Daleks know
that something is happening.

They're increasing their firepower.

Do it, Doctor. just do it.

Do it!

Okay.

Gentlemen, we're ready.

Geronimo!

- Allons-y!
- Oh, for God's sake.

Gallifrey stands!

I don't suppose we'll ever know
if we actually succeeded.

But at worst,
we failed doing the right thing,

as opposed to succeeding
in doing the wrong.

Life and soul, you are.

What is it actually called?

Well, there's some debate.

Either No More
or Gallifrey Falls.

- Not very encouraging.
- How did it get here?

No idea.

There's always something
we don't know, isn't there?

I should certainly hope so.

Well, gentlemen,
it has been an honour

and a privilege.

- Likewise.
- Doctor.

And if I grow to be
half the man that you are,

Clara Oswald,
I shall be happy indeed.

That's right. Aim high.

I won't remember this, will I?

The timestreams are out of sync.
You can't retain it, no.

So I won't remember
that I tried to save Gallifrey,

rather than burn it.

And I have to live with that.

But for now, for this moment,

I am the Doctor again.

Thank you.

Which one is mine?

Ha!

Oh, yes.

Of course, it makes sense.

Wearing a bit thin.

I hope the ears are
a bit less conspicuous this time.

I won't remember, either,
so you might as well tell me.

Tell you what?

Where it is we're going
that you don't want to talk about.

I saw Trenzalore,

where we're buried.

We die in battle, among millions.

- That's not how it's supposed to be.
- That's how the story ends.

Nothing we can do about it.

Trenzalore is where you're going.

Oh, never say "nothing".

Anyway,

good to know my future
is in safe hands.

- Keep a tight hold on it, Clara.
- Mm. On it.

Trenzalore.

We need a new destination, because...

I don't wanna go.

He always says that.

Need a moment alone with your painting?

- How did you know?
- Those big sad eyes.

I always know.

Oh, by the way, there was an old man
looking for you.

I think it was the curator.

I could be a curator.

I'd be great at curating.
I'd be the Great Curator.

I could retire, and do that.

I could retire,
and be the curator of this place.

You know, I really think you might.

- I never forget a face.
- I know you don't.

And in years to come, you might
find yourself revisiting a few.

But just the old favourites, eh?

You were curious
about this painting, I think?

I acquired it
in remarkable circumstances.

- What do you make of the title?
- Well, which title? There's two.

No More,

and Gallifrey Falls.

No, you see,
that's where everybody's wrong.

It's all one title.

Gallifrey Falls No More.

Now, what would you think
that means, eh?

That Gallifrey didn't fa ll.

It worked? It's still out there?

I'm only a humble curator.
I'm sure I wouldn't know.

- Then where is it?
- "Where is it", indeed. Lost. Shh!

Perhaps.

Things do get lost, you know.

And now, you must excuse me.

Oh, you have a lot to do.

Do I?
Is that what I'm supposed to do now?

- Go looking for Gallifrey?
- That's entirely up to you.

Your choice, eh?
I can only tell you what I would do.

If I were you...
Oh, if I were you.

Perhaps I was you, of course.

Or perhaps you are me.

- Congratulations.
- Thank you very much.

Or perhaps it doesn't matter
either way.

Who knows?

Who knows.

Clara sometimes
asks me if I dream.

"'Course I dream," I tell her.

"Everybody dreams."

"But what do you dream about?"
she'll ask.

"The same thing everybody
dreams about," I tell her.

"I dream about where I'm going."

She always laughs at that.

"But you're not going anywhere.
You're just wandering about."

That's not true.

Not any more.

I have a new destination.

My journey is the same as yours.
The same as anyone's.

It's taken me so many years,
so many lifetimes,

but at last, I know where I'm going.

Where I have always been going.

Home.

The long way round.