All language subtitles for Doctor Who (1963) - 23x10 - The Trial of a Time Lord, Part Ten (Terror of the Vervoids).Broadcast.BRrip.English.HI.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

(DOCTOR WHO THEME)

Why is only low-spectrum light
allowed in the place?

Something to do with photosynthesis.

Low-spectrum light
allows the plants to stay dormant.

Now I'll go first.

We don't want you breaking your neck,
at least not until...

(MEL SCREAMING)

What are you doing here?
You were told not to come here.

Edwardes! He's dead!
He just touched the fences.

Save your explanations
for the Commodore, lady.

- He's dead, all right.
- Stay with him. I'll send help.

Move.

Another death, Doctor.

But for the caprice of chance,

the victim would have been
your companion, Mel.

Your culpability is beyond question.

You could have prevented her
from going into the cargo hold.

Instead, you appear to encourage her.

When I viewed the Matrix earlier,
that isn't what happened.

More futile grasping at straws.

When the facts tell against,
you cry fraud.

Do you wish to reconsider, Doctor?

No, madam. I am being manipulated.

But the only way to discover why,

and by whom,

is to press on.

(DISHES SHATTERING)

Just an accident, no cause for concern.
The stewardess will take care of that.

Why aren't you wearing a pulsometer?

The heart should be monitored
while exercising.

Which heart would you suggest, madam?

Unfortunately, that doesn't register
a double pulse.

A double pulse?
What are you, a comedian?

No, more a sort of clown, actually.

Would you care to hear my rendering
of On with the Motley?

- Doctor, you're required on the bridge.
- Ah!

The Commodore wants a chat.
Good, I shall enjoy that.

I don't think you'll find enjoyment's
on the agenda.

I don't need anyone to speak up for me.
I'm quite capable of defending myself.

How long have you known this woman?

Time is a comparative concept,
Commodore.

Not now, Doctor.
Just answer the question.

I should accept that advice
and drop the sophistry.

Can you vouch for her?

Completely. Utterly.
What's all this about, Mel?

Communications officer is dead,
and they think I did it.

She was caught running from the scene.
She can't deny that.

I haven't tried!

I persuaded Edwardes
to show me the Hydroponic Centre.

- It was booby-trapped.
- Booby-trapped?

(RADIO BEEPING)

If it hadn't been for Edwardes,
it would've been me who was killed.

What? Are you certain?

What is it?

It's the medical team.

They say they can't find Edwardes
anywhere in the hold, sir.

But he must be there.

Or perhaps he wasn't dead.

The weird atmosphere down there
could lead to phantasmagoria.

Oh, come on, you know me.

- Am I prone to that sort of imagination?
- Well...

I thought you left a man down there.

- I did, sir.
- Well, where is he?

Rudge?

They say there's no sign
of him either, sir.

The guard's disappeared, 100?

Now perhaps you'll accept
that I'm not responsible.

You've had me in custody!

The perfect alibi, Commodore.

Organise a search, Mr Rudge,
I want those men found.

Yes, sir.

Now, since you put in an appearance,

first a passenger,

now my communications officer
and a guard have gone missing.

Two, if not all three, murdered.

But you, standing there
in your divine state of innocence,

you can't tell me
what's happening, can you?

I can.

The answer is simple enough.

You've got a killer on board.

(RATTLING)

Look, Doctor,
you can't just play a passive role.

We were sent for, remember?

- I'm cogitating.
- About what?

Whether his job is to keep
unwanted visitors out or...

Keep someone in.

No matter how you and Professor Lasky
rationalise the situation,

we should never have proceeded
to the point we've reached.

How you became a scientist,
Bruchner, baffles me.

You have the temperament
of an overcautious rabbit.

Did you leave the gates open?

Doland! The pods!

Every one of them!

Empty.

Some fool must have introduced
high-intensity light into the Centre.

We are confronted with a catastrophe
and that's your reaction?

Don't you realise what's been unleashed?

- Not again!
- What's going on in there?

Don't ask me,
I'm only the security officer.

- Where are they?
- Where are who?

You know exactly what I mean.
Where are the seeds?

The ones you picked up
in the wrecked cabin.

Or did you think I'd forgotten?

Uh-uh!

- Oh, come on!
- What do you want them for?

Professor Lasky. She's an agronomist.

- I'm going to ask her.
- Is she?

An agronomist, huh?

You'd better leave me to cope with this.

- You?
- Mmm.

This is a situation
that requires tact and finesse.

Fortunately, I am blessed with both.

Professor Lasky.

Oh, it's you, the comedian.
What do you want?

I understand that you're an agronomist.

A thremmatologist, to be precise.

A thremmatologist?

Then you're well qualified
to tell me about these.

Stewardess?

Stewardess!

- Something wrong, Professor?
- Fetch the security officer.

- Can I help?
- At once!

- May I be told what's wrong, Professor?
- This man's a thief!

Mr Rudge
to the passenger lounge, please.

Now what have you landed us in?

(RATTLING)

- What was that?
- Nothing.

Pull yourself together, Bruchner.

- There's someone in the hold.
- Bruchner, you're allowing hysteria to take...

I know what I saw!

It was a movement.

That puts an entirely
different complexion on the situation.

Pity your friend the comedian
wasn't as lucid.

I never had a chance to be...

I can't understand
why they were in cabin six.

Or why a mineralogist would steal them.

- Are they special, Professor?
- Yeah, just what I was...

The Demeter seeds? Yes, they are.

They represent a tremendous advance,
a colossal leap.

- Do they?
- What did you call them? The Demeter seeds?

- Name of a god.
- Food of the gods!

Bruchner, my assistant,
bit of a romantic, highly strung,

he christened them.

- That still doesn't explain...
- He wasn't just being pretentious.

They'll increase potential yield threefold,

and even more,
they'll grow in desert sands.

- Um...
- What is it, man?

Don't stand there hovering.

- You sent for him.
- I did?

- Oh, yes! Not to worry.
- But I do worry.

Especially when serious allegations
are made.

You accused the Doctor of being a thief.

Oh, that! A mistake.

The fellow may be a fool,
but he's not a criminal.

COMMODORE: Project our course
through the sector ahead.

Put us onto a straighter course.

Reduce the diversion
to a point-nought-three safety margin.

I estimate that brings our ETA forward
by 72 hours, sir.

Seventy-two hours closer to getting
expert investigators on board.

Carry on.

No, Doctor.

No.

No, thank you.

(RUMBLING)

No need for concern,
just a navigational adjustment.

As you can see, it doesn't even require
my presence on the bridge.

For your information,
the change of course

will bring our landfall forward
by 72 hours.

(SPEAKING MOGARIAN)

Switch on your translator.

Surely we are approaching the sector
with the Black Hole of Tartarus.

- That's correct.
- If you are saving time,

we must be going closer
to the black hole.

There's no danger.
The safety margin is more than adequate.

- That is hardly a denial.
- Simply a bromide.

COMMODORE: You sought reassurance,
I've given it.

That word "reassurance"

bears sinister undertones
for we Mogarians.

Indeed?

It is the word the earthlings used

when first they persuaded us
to allow them to sink mines on Mogar.

A limited concession
was all they requested,

and now they are
stripping our planet bare.

Truth is a stranger to the earthlings.

If you'll excuse me, politics
do not come into my realm of influence.

Then they should.

Who are you? Another prospector?

Only of knowledge.
I have visited your planet.

It's very rich in natural resources.

Which will soon be exhausted
if these earthlings are not restrained.

They are going through the universe
like a plague of interplanetary locusts.

Are we to be subjected to a dissertation

on interplanetary politics now, Sagacity?

Is that all you think it was?

Mining rights,
Mogarians versus earthlings.

What else would you call that?

You are so pathetically
intent on incriminating me

you haven't been watching
what's going on!

My eyes never left the screen.

You may have been selected
to prosecute me, Valeyard,

but I hope you'll never be chosen
to defend me.

An occasion that will not arise, Doctor.

Your lives are forfeit,
as I've ably proven.

Something vital just happened
in that scene.

And the Valeyard perversely switched
our attention to more trivial matters.

Then for pity's sake tell us
what it was that happened

- and enjoy your moment of triumph.
- Triumph?

There's no cause for celebration.

One of the occupants of that lounge
is about to die.

Another murder?

Yes.

And if you had been watching,

you would know
who was the intended victim.

Gentlemen, is this case to be resolved
with a battle of words

or to be conducted via the Matrix?

You've drawn a blank
where Edwardes is concerned?

Yes, sir.

Perhaps we should search
the passenger cabins.

No. The passengers are already uneasy.

Do you want them to realise they're
trapped with a killer on the loose?

You're very quiet, Mel.

Not quite your style
to go into a brown study.

Brown study?

Is the vocabulary of all the Time Lords
so antediluvian?

(COUGHING)

- Are you trying to kill him?
- I'm trying to save him!

He will die if you remove his helmet!

Mogarians can't breathe oxygen.
Surely you're aware of that.

He's not a Mogarian!

- He's not?
- Who is he?

If you'll kindly allow me
to remove his face plate.

- I fear this poor fellow is beyond help.
- STEWARDESS: Mr Grenville?

RUDGE: Grenville,
the passenger from cabin six!

The man who was supposed
to have been dumped in the pulveriser.

His name isn't Grenville.

It's Hallet.

Send a stretcher party to the lounge.

Yes, sir.
I'll organise that immediately.

Carry on, Mr Rudge.

Poor Mr Hallet.

I knew it was Hallet. I recognised him.
Remember?

- You recognised him?
- Yes.

But he denied it.
He insisted his name was Grenville.

Well, he would.

Whether his name is Grenville or Hallet,

why did he stage his own death
in the pulveriser?

This gentleman's just given us
the answer.

I have?

Hallet had presumably been assigned
to investigate

something or somebody on this ship.

Then he had the bad fortune
to be recognised.

A chance encounter
that put his entire mission in jeopardy.

Are you saying
we had an undercover agent aboard

and I wasn't informed?

Well, you may have been a suspect!

Me?

Together with everybody else
on this voyage.

Is all this guesswork? Or have you
any more tricks up your sleeve?

No tricks, Mr Rudge.

I knew Hallet. And admired him.

But I assure you,
until I removed that face plate,

I had no idea he was on board.

All nice and lily-white, Doctor, but
it does leave one nasty little problem.

It does?

How did you know the dead man
wasn't a MOGARIAN?

Yes. How did you know?

Have you been editing the Matrix

and denying the court all the evidence
to which it is entitled?

That would be a serious offence, Doctor.

At the risk of appearing
impertinent, Sagacity,

I would point out that you,
the Valeyard and everyone here present

could have acquired the same knowledge.

Perhaps we may hear your explanation.

With respect,
you will not hear it from me.

(CLICKING)

(SPEAKING MOGARIAN)

Switch on your translator.

Surely we are approaching the sector
with the Black Hole of Tartarus.

(TAPE WINDING)

There's no danger.
The safety margin is more than adequate.

- That is hardly a denial.
- Simply a bromide.

(CLICKING)

As you saw,

the bogus Mogarian
did not switch on his translator.

Very astute of you, Doctor,
but don't stop there.

Let us assume the murdered man
was responsible for the mayday call.

Perhaps you will now direct
your deductive gifts

towards justifying
his extraordinary behaviour.

Yes, the investigator Hallet's methods
were very unorthodox.

Agreed, and I'm indebted
to the prosecutor

for putting his finger
on the nub of my defence,

the reason why I could
no longer stay on the sidelines.

(CLICKING)

MEL: Anyone there
could have poisoned his drink.

Providing us with a plethora of suspects.

"Us"?

Do I detect a commitment at last?

Because of Hallet's death?
You said you admired him.

I did.

He was one of a rare breed. A maverick.

Even the highly organised society
of the 30th century

has need of his kind.

He'll be missed.

And he left these seeds for me to find.

To lead you to where
I've been telling you all along.

The Hydroponic Centre.

(RATTLING)

What are you doing away from your post?

The Isolation Room is under
no circumstances to be left unguarded.

If it happens again,
I shall report you to the Commodore.

Hallet must have sent that mayday call.

Yes. He wanted me here as a catalyst,

and to divert attention
away from his own activities.

You'd do that without being asked.

Hallet was an unorthodox man,
but he was also a subtle man.

So why did he resort
to such blunderbuss tactics?

Why use me as a Judas goat?

Well, he was running out of time.
The mayday message said as much.

"perative traitor be identified
before landing Earth."

I guess the incomplete word
was "imperative", wouldn't you?

Do you know,
I've always envied you that.

I shall probably regret this, but...

Go on, I'll buy it.
Envied me what?

Your amazing ability
for almost total recall.

Compliments!
You are undergoing a change.

I could have been comparing you
to an elephant.

Well, figuratively speaking.
They never forget.

Doctor, I realise you're trying
to take my mind off poor Edwardes.

If you'd rather wait here...

No.

What have you got there?

A leaf from Hallet's pocket.

I didn't see you take it.

Aha! Neither did anyone else.
Another one of my

tricks.

What do you make of these pods, Mel?

I'm not into agronomy.
Ask the Professor.

Ah.

Thremmatology. The Professor said
she was a thremmatologist.

You're going to have to enlighten me.
It's out of my range.

Science of breeding or propagating
animals and plants under domestication.

I'm not much wiser.

Well, think, Mel!
You've got a good brain. Think!

I wonder what came out of this.

Will you end this charade,
this pathetic pretence of normality?

Can't you accept
we're on the brink of disaster?

Bruchner, will you stop panicking?

Our work must remain secret
whatever the cost.

You're completely without conscience,
Doland. I'm aware of that.

But I expected the Professor
to grasp the enormity of our folly.

So you're suggesting that we jeopardise
years of scientific research

for the sake of some
hypothetical danger?

Exactly! We've no reason to believe

the result of our experiments
are other than benign.

Benign?

Have you been
in the Isolation Room lately?

An unfortunate mishap
that has no relevance to this situation.

- In any case, it's academic now.
- I lack your lofty detachment.

Do you also lack loyalty, Bruchner?
To your colleagues?

Before we left Mogar, we agreed

that our discovery
should be divulged to no one,

no one,

until we reached Earth.

Unless you have concrete evidence
to prove there is danger,

I expect you to keep your word.

You simply don't understand, do you?

The crime we are committing
in the name of science

will make us infamous!

And that's assuming there's anyone left
to pass judgement.

- Decided to get some rest, Mr Kimber?
- Yes.

Though I doubt if I'll sleep.

At my age, one doesn't like
to be reminded of mortality.

May I fetch you a warm drink?
Might help.

Thank you, that's very gracious.

(KIMBER SCREAMING)

It's the stewardess, sir.

I've brought your warm drink, sir.

Shall I leave it on the dressing table?

(SHOWER RUNNING)

What's a thremmatologist been doing
in an isolation room

wearing a surgical mask?

Seeing as there's only one way
to find out, you've got two problems.

- Two?
- Apart from getting rid of the guard,

you're going to need a mask.

And you can hardly ask the Professor
to lend you hers.

(RATTLING)

Did you hear that?

(ALARM RINGING)

Quickly! The lounge!
There are passengers trapped!

On the double, man!
There are lives at stake!

(MEL SCREAMING)