MEGLOS

BY: JOHN FLANAGAN AND ANDREW MCCULLOCH

Part One

Original Air Date: 27 September 1980
Running time: 24:43

DOCTOR: You'd better stop the TARDIS. We don't want any nasty jolts. Prion, did you say?

ROMANA: We're in the Prion planetary system. We'd better land.

DOCTOR: No, no. Hovering will do.

ROMANA: There's a planet called Tigella.

DOCTOR: Tigella? Never heard of it.

ROMANA: Well, there's one called Zolfa-Thura. That's in the history books.

DOCTOR: Well, we're all in somebody's history books.

ROMANA: A great civilisation blown away to sand and ashes.

DOCTOR: Oh, yes.

ROMANA: Now all that's left is the Screens.

DOCTOR: Why, what screens?

ROMANA: The Screens of Zolfa-Thura.

DOCTOR: Oh. Oh, those screens. Well, of course I've been to Tigella. Did you say Tigella?

ROMANA: That's right.

DOCTOR: I've been there.

ROMANA: When?

DOCTOR: Oo, well, a long time ago. Nice chap called Zastor showed me around. Yes. Remind me to get in touch with him sometime. In fact, I'll do it right now.

ROMANA: No, no, no. Please, please, can we just do one thing at a time?

DOCTOR: First things first?

ROMANA: Exactly.

DOCTOR: But not necessarily in that order. Tigella. Zastor.

CARIS: It's going to blow!

CARIS: Emergency! Emergency!

DEEDRIX: And quickly.

WOMAN (OOV.): Burn out on one four nine. Medical and lighting assistance immediately.

DEEDRIX: Medical detail dispatched.

MAN 2 (OOV.): Air purification unit one malfunctioning.

DEEDRIX: Open up air vents three to eight in unit one. Zastor.

ZASTOR: This is no time for formality. Please continue.

MAN 3 (OOV.): Irrigation levels holding steady.

DEEDRIX: Thank you. Clearing.

ZASTOR: Well, how bad is it, Deedrix?

DEEDRIX: We can't control it much longer.

ZASTOR: So much for science.

DEEDRIX: Without detailed investigation, there's nothing science can do.

ZASTOR: Believe me, I understand.

DEEDRIX: I've always argued

ZASTOR: That's certainly true.

DEEDRIX: For thousands of years our lives have been dominated by a mystery. The Dodecahedron belongs to all of us, not just the Deons.

ZASTOR: Their religion deserves respect.

DEEDRIX: Religion. Control to walkway nine.

DEEDRIX (OOV.): Update on the burnout, please.

CARIS: I'm replacing the transformer. There'll be no power in here for the next three hours. Now will they believe us?

DEEDRIX: Thank you, Caris. Understood. All this rather proves her point.

ZASTOR: How can we re-inhabit the surface? It would take years of preparation.

DEEDRIX: Decades, more likely. There are better ways, but at least she has a rational plan.

ZASTOR: Which the Deons have declared a blasphemy.

DEEDRIX: You could overrule them.

ZASTOR: How long would I remain leader if I were to?

DEEDRIX: And Tigella? Zastor, I tell you as a savant, a scientist, one who works hard to understand these things, that our safe and bountiful city may well be on the edge of total extinction.

LEXA: No.

LEXA: Zastor is our leader, but he cannot lead us into sacrilege. Resume the Concurrence. I shall explain this yet again to Zastor.

ZASTOR: I understand your anger, Lexa.

LEXA: The power is angrier than we are.

ZASTOR: But at the moment seems to be a little more controlled. So perhaps should we be. The savants are trying to help, or so they believe.

LEXA: Believe? A word to large for their small minds.)

LEXA: They're children. Wilful, ignorant and lost.

ZASTOR: As we all will be, savants and Deons alike, if the power fails us.

LEXA: Why are we going to the debating chamber? This is hardly a matter for compromise.

ZASTOR: I'm an old man, Lexa, with less faith perhaps than you, but I think you trust my judgment.

LEXA: Yes.

ZASTOR: They have some proposals. They will not touch the Dodecahedron.

LEXA: They cannot enter the Power room!

ZASTOR: Some measurement, a few calculations.

LEXA: Oh, not even you, Zastor, can revoke the ancient laws.

DEEDRIX: And your Concurrence, Lexa, cannot revoke the laws of physics.

ZASTOR: Deedrix, Lexa, we must behave like leaders.

DEEDRIX: Then lead us by example, Zastor. Make a decision!

ZASTOR: I cannot interfere. I was afraid it would come to this. (to a guard) Yes, please, ask him to come.

LEXA: Ask? Who?

DEEDRIX: Some new procrastination, Zastor?

ZASTOR: Some fifty years ago, I knew a man who solved the insoluble by the strangest means. He sees the threads that join the universe together and mends them when they break.

DEEDRIX: A savant? Or one of her madmen.

ZASTOR: A little of each and a great deal more of something else. He's nearby and asking to visit us.

DEEDRIX: You sent for an alien?

LEXA: Why?

ZASTOR: You'll know when you see him. This probably needs his delicacy of touch.

DOCTOR: He'd better not go in the sea in future. He's likely to get into deep water, you know.

ROMANA: It was hardly his fault that someone neglected to sea-proof him.

DOCTOR: Quite. Can you remember where I left his manual?

ROMANA: Yes, of course.

ROMANA: Oh, I hope he's going to be all right. We're going to need him on Tigella.

DOCTOR: Why? They're not hostile.

ROMANA: The plants are. Lush, aggressive vegetation.

DOCTOR: You mustn't believe everything you read in books.

ROMANA: It says in the history books that it was the lush, aggressive vegetation that forced the Tigellans to retreat beneath the surface. You must have seen it last time you were there.

DOCTOR: It was reasonably friendly to me. Mind you, it was a long time ago.

ROMANA: Post repair test questions.

DOCTOR: Ahem. Post repair test questions. K9, can you hear me?

K9: Affirmative, (pause) mistress.

DOCTOR: That's a promising start.

ZASTOR: Silence! Savants, Deons, remember the dignity of your high office. Have we been elected to squabble? If we cannot agree, we will at least have order.

DEEDRIX: I've said all I have to say. I am needed back in the control room.

LEXA: No! The Savants should be arrested for heresy.

DEEDRIX: And crushed to death, no doubt.

ZASTOR: Please, you will not mock the old laws.

DEEDRIX: Well, how can there be any respect for a creed that practices primitive sacrifice. Are you making sacrifices now in the name of your monstrous myth?

ZASTOR: Please, Deedrix, remember where you are.

DEEDRIX: No! This should be said before all Tigella. The Dodecahedron is no god! It is an artefact! Engineered.

LEXA: It descended from the heavens!

DEEDRIX: Not the heavens. From somewhere, anywhere, but not the heavens.

LEXA: Then where?

GRUGGER: Well?

BROTADAC: Sand. Nothing but sand. The whole planet.

GRUGGER: Except for those.

BROTADAC: Bring an Earthling to the screens of Zolfa-Thura. I never liked this job.

GRUGGER: Male Caucasian around two metres tall.

BROTADAC: Right, we've delivered him. So who pays us?

GRUGGER: Shut up. He's trying to say something.

BROTADAC: It could be a trap. What does he know, anyway?

EARTHLING: Nothing. I don't know anything. What have I done?

GRUGGER: Nobody knows anything.

EARTHLING: Why? Why me?

GRUGGER: Why any of us? Do you think I do this through choice? Oh, give him another one.

GRUGGER: The message was genuine. We'll wait.

BROTADAC: Genuine? We don't even know who sent it. Let's k*ll him and go.

GRUGGER: Let's think, for a change. Now, why would you send across the galaxy for a thing like that?

BROTADAC: Stop! It must be a trap.

GRUGGER: Shut up and follow me.

MEGLOS (OOV.): Arrival noted, gentlemen. Welcome. Don't be afraid.

GRUGGER: Huh. Who do you think you're talking to?

MEGLOS (OOV.): General Grugger, Lieutenant Brotadac, I presume, together with their band of fortune hunters. There should also be an Earthling somewhere.

GRUGGER: You. What are you?

MEGLOS (OOV.): Ah, forgive me. Most remiss. I am Meglos, only survivor of this planet.

MEGLOS (OOV.): Well observed, General Grugger. I am the plant. A xerophyte, to be precise. Ah! Ah, you've served me well, General Grugger. I now have a real proposition for you.

ZASTOR: This chamber will yield to my authority!

DEEDRIX: You've lost it, delegated it to these aliens.

LEXA: A Time Lord! A non-believer. Why should we trust him?

ZASTOR: The Doctor's good faith is beyond question.

DEEDRIX: Faith! That word again. What we need is knowledge!

ZASTOR: He brings that, too.

DEEDRIX: We have it here, if you will allow us to use it.

LEXA: Oh, squabbles go round and round. Nothing is decided here. I shall seek guidance from the Power itself.

CARIS: I have something to say to this chamber

LEXA: No.

ZASTOR: Caris has risked her life to save this city. I wish to hear her.

CARIS: Even if we manage to restore the power, or as the Deons would say, if the power condescends to restore itself, the food stocks will be destroyed. We will have to ascend to the surface.

BROTADAC: It's a waste of time. Let's get our payment and go.

MEGLOS (OOV.): You Gaztaks pillage the galaxy. There are a thousand small marauding bands like yours. And what's it all for?

BROTADAC: Loot!

MEGLOS (OOV.): A motley collection of trophies. How long did it take you to accumulate?

BROTADAC: Done it all our lives.

MEGLOS (OOV.): Pah! And you accuse me of wasting your time.

GRUGGER: What you're asking us to do is impossible.

MEGLOS (OOV.): Impossible, or simply beyond your comprehension?

BROTADAC: There's only one way into that city.

GRUGGER: And they guard that Dodecahedron with their lives. To them, it's a god.

BROTADAC: They say the thing's dangerous to touch.

MEGLOS (OOV.): Really, gentlemen, I have considered the hazards. But your timidity worries me. You're not interested in the real power. So, if Lieutenant Brotadac will return my redimensioner, we will conclude our business.

GRUGGER: What?

MEGLOS (OOV.): The redimensioner you removed from my desk.

GRUGGER: Oh, you fool. What do you know about mass conversion mechanics?

GRUGGER: I want to know a lot more about all this.

DOCTOR: Bit of a nuisance if we have to reprogramme all his constants.

ROMANA: I'm more worried about the power depletion. At this rate he's going to need recharging every two hours.

DOCTOR: That's not a problem. I happen to be an expert in power sources.

ROMANA: Tigella won't take long, then.

DOCTOR: No, no, no. A quick flight, a quick service.

ROMANA: What is the energy process, baryon multiplication?

DOCTOR: Erm, er, yes. Yes, something like that. They didn't actually let me see it last time. Religious objections.

GRUGGER: The Dodecahedron was made here on Zolfa-Thura?

MEGLOS (OOV.): Of course. The Tigellans are using only a fraction of its potential.

GRUGGER: A fraction! It powers their entire planet.

MEGLOS (OOV.): Precisely. A mere fraction. The verdant fluctuations are part of its inbuilt programming. In restart mode it's present output will be raised to the power of twelve. It's energy could feed an entire galaxy.

GRUGGER: That's impossible.

MEGLOS (OOV.): Within your limited frame of reference, yes. Now, if you will be so kind as to proceed.

MEGLOS (OOV.): General Grugger, have I explained the procedure sufficiently?

GRUGGER: Yes, it's all right. It's this lever first and then that one to start the process.

MEGLOS (OOV.): Excellent. Then let it commence.

GRUGGER: Oh, we'll definitely let it commence.

BROTADAC: This is the switch, is it?

GRUGGER: Don't touch these controls, Brotadac.

BROTADAC: Come on, he looks ready to me.

GRUGGER: Yes, he does, doesn't he?

BROTADAC: Well, what's the hang up? I want to get off of this planet.

GRUGGER: Get the others. So do I, but it would be a pity to leave all this.

BROTADAC: You got a plan?

GRUGGER: We can take that, and that, and that. How much will all that be worth in Pallagos?

BROTADAC: Fifty million credits?

GRUGGER: Oh, that's very nice.

BROTADAC: We struck lucky.

GRUGGER: Lucky? Brains, Brotadac, brains. I think the four of us could dismantle that.

BROTADAC: We could break that one up.

GRUGGER: No, no, that's a nice piece.

BROTADAC: I'll go and get the others.

GRUGGER: I've already sent for them. Why aren't they here? Go and see what's happened to them.

BROTADAC: It's stuck!

GRUGGER: Well, open it.

BROTADAC: But it won't open.

GRUGGER: What do you mean, it won't open. It won't open.

BROTADAC: It opened all right when we come in. Automatically.

MEGLOS (OOV.): Correct, gentlemen. Automatically.

GRUGGER: He's trapped us.

BROTADAC: Didn't trust us.

MEGLOS (OOV.): Oh, nothing so petty. I knew that as, what shall we say, ardent pragmatists, you would feel bound to attempt some variation of our arrangement. I wanted it to come sooner rather than later. I know you and your kind so well, and if we are to cooperate, I want you to know me.

GRUGGER: I see. Well, that's all right.

MEGLOS (OOV.): Well, gentlemen, shall we all descend together into the earth for another thousand years or shall we resume our original arrangements?

GRUGGER: Well, I'm prepared to forget that little incident.

MEGLOS (OOV.): Oh, I hope not.

BROTADAC: We'll remember.

MEGLOS (OOV.): Good. Now, the second button, please.

BROTADAC: I don't believe it!

MEGLOS: Thank you, General Grugger. Now we must work quickly. I've intercepted a Tigellan message. They've sent for a travelling Time Lord.

MEGLOS: Who's travels I must interrupt. Now, where is he, and when?

ROMANA: Where did you put the magnetic tweezers?

DOCTOR: In a cave. A sort of shrine.

ROMANA: Where?

DOCTOR: In Tigella. What?

ROMANA: Magnetic tweezers?

DOCTOR: Oh.

ROMANA: Thanks. I think I've almost done it.

DOCTOR: Mind you, it's hardly surprising they're in awe of the thing. After all, their whole way of life depends on it.

ROMANA: Oh blast, here we go again.

DOCTOR: What's the matter?

ROMANA: Well, now his probe circuit's jammed.

DOCTOR: Well, that's easy. Just waggle his tail.

ROMANA: All right. We've tried everything else.

K9: Thank you, mistress. Repairs complete.

DOCTOR: Well done, Romana. Well done. You're becoming very accomplished at all this.

ROMANA: Becoming? I was fully qualified when I arrived.

DOCTOR: (sotto from across the room) K9, what do you know about the Prion planetary system?

K9: The only viable civilisation was Zolfa-Thura. They destroyed themselves in global w*r. Planet now featureless desert.

ROMANA: Good boy, K9.

DOCTOR: So now Tigella's all that's left.

K9: Affirmative.

ROMANA: Oh blast, here we go again.

DOCTOR: What's the matter?

ROMANA: Well, now his probe circuit's jammed.

DOCTOR: Well, that's easy. Just waggle his tail.

ROMANA: All right. We've tried everything else.

K9: Thank you, mistress. Repairs complete.

MEGLOS: Flies trapped in amber. Not even the Doctor can escape a chronic hysteretic loop.

GRUGGER: A what?

MEGLOS: I've caught him inside a fold of time.

GRUGGER: Huh? Oh, good.

MEGLOS: His only respite is the short period when he loops back to the start. Round and round, for all eternity.

ROMANA: Oh blast, here we go again.

DOCTOR: What's the matter?

ROMANA: Well, now his probe circuit's jammed.

DOCTOR: Well, that's easy. Just waggle his tail.

ROMANA: All right. We've tried everything else.

K9: Thank you, mistress. Repairs complete.

DOCTOR: That's the third time. What's happening?

ROMANA: The TARDIS appears to be functioning normally.

DOCTOR: Yes. Then what? Repeated time cycles? Oh, no. It couldn't be a chronic hysteresis, could it?

ROMANA: Chronic hysteresis! (gulp) I hope not. If it is, we'll be stuck here forever.

DOCTOR: Yes.

ROMANA: Oh blast, here we go again.

BROTADAC: This Meglos can bend time.

GRUGGER: Right, in a loop.

BROTADAC: I've never heard of that, have you?

GRUGGER: It doesn't matter how it's done. The point is, the Doctor doesn't get to Tigella.

MEGLOS: Oh, but he does, gentlemen. He does.

MEGLOS: We mustn't disappoint the Tigellans.
{"type": "series", "show": "Doctor Who", "episode": "18x05 - Meglos - part 1"}