(DOCTOR WHO THEME)
DOCTOR: Mogar, a planet on the Perseus Arm of the Milky Way.
Rich in rare metals.
A top priority consignment of these precious metals
is being loaded aboard Hyperion III, an inter-galactic liner
that ferries between Mogar and Earth.
A scheduled flight in the Earth year 2986.
Crew ls aboard.
The last passengers are reporting in.
Many will never complete the journey.
For, in order to protect a secret hidden on the space liner,
one will become a murderer.
Am I expected to trust my life, for millions of miles,
to a bunch of incompetents who can't even get my luggage aboard
without losing it?
Your luggage, Professor? It's not in your cabin?
- Really! Do I have to repeat myself? - I'm sure we can sort it out.
- Problems, Janet? Let me help. - And who are you?
Security Officer Rudge, Professor. Now, which cabin did you go to?
You're asking, and you're the Security Officer?
Cabin six, where else?
May I see your key, please?
Ah, no. The other way round, I think.
You are in cabin nine and that is where you will find your luggage, Professor.
Let's hope so.
- You're in cabin six, Mr Grenville. - Thank you.
Mr Grenville...
Security Officer Rudge. If you have any problems...
Mr Hallet, how pleasant. At least one face not belonging to a stranger.
I'm sorry. I think you must be mistaken.
No, surely not. We met three years ago, on Stella Stora.
You came to investigate shortages in the granary.
My name is Grenville, and I've never been to Stella Stora.
You're obviously confusing me with someone else.
Maybe the gentleman has a doppelganger.
But I could have sworn. Even the voice is the same.
An investigator?
Bruchner, go and check the safety measures
for the Isolation Room.
That's the final batch. Get your men ashore.
Hyperion flight 7113 is now in progress.
You startled me!
(SPEAKING MOGARIAN)
You haven't got your translator switched on, sir.
- Why did we not depart on schedule? - We were delayed for a late arrival.
A gentleman from your planet, as a matter of fact.
- A Mogarian? - Yes, sir.
- Anything interesting? - Maybe. Unidentified craft.
I've tried all the standard frequencies.
- Without response? - Not a bleep.
- Perhaps it's a piece of space flotsam. - You make delicious coffee, Janet.
Oh, well, if you don't want the benefit of my advice.
Let's try you on hyper-frequency.
(ELECTRONIC BEEPING)
- 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30... - 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30...
- 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37... - 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37...
- 38, 39, 40. - 38, 39, 40.
This will buck you up.
- Carrot juice! - It'll do you good.
Honestly, carrots are full of vitamin A.
Mel, have you studied my ears lately?
It's your waistline I'm concerned about.
No, seriously, though.
Is it my imagination or have they started to grow longer?
Listen, when I start to call you Neddy, then you can worry.
Drink up.
You'll worry sooner when I start to bray.
69,70, 71,72, 75...
(ELECTRONIC BEEPING)
Quickly, Mel, press the red button. Get the message on the screen.
- Press it! Press it! - I have! You said red.
Did I?
MEL: Cryptic. DOCTOR: Unsigned.
Mayday call? We have to respond!
Practically on our doorstep.
(WHOOSHING)
How I keep up with you is a constant source of amazement to me.
No one sends a mayday call unless it's a matter of life and death.
Yes. Let's exercise the grey cells for once, shall we?
Rather than the muscles.
That was no ordinary mayday call.
It was beamed specifically at the TARDIS.
So it's from someone who knows you.
- In which case, why wasn't it signed? - Panic. Desperation.
Well, we won't find out by hanging about in here, will we?
We won't go blundering into a trap, either.
I've never seen this side of you before.
You're usually the one who goes charging in regardless.
- Can't you sense it, Mel? - Sense what?
Evil. There's evil in this place.
I've got a better idea. Let's go to Pyro Shika,
- a fascinating planet with... - Doctor!
Doctor.
So much for your enthusiasm. Let me do the talking.
- Now, listen, my man. I can explain... - Shut up. Move.
- I said I can explain. - And I said move.
He did, didn't he.
- You never heard anything? - Not a sound.
- Nor saw anything? - I've already told you!
No one's blaming you, laddy,
but I thought perhaps now that your head is clearer...
I was concentrating on the unidentified craft.
Mr Edwardes, what about the security tape?
Deactivated, sir.
Which indicates knowledge of our procedures.
- Just my thoughts, too, Commodore. - I'm sure.
- How about the rest of the equipment? - In perfect order, sir.
That leaves only one objective your assailant could have had.
To send a message.
I was trying not to state the obvious, Mr Rudge.
That'll do. Report to the medic before returning to duty.
- Thank you, sir. - Will you please stop poking
that contraption into my spine?
We heard a noise in the cargo hold, Mr Rudge, and found these two.
Is it? Yes, it is. Captain Tonker Travers.
- Commodore. - DOCTOR: Oh!
Of all the places in this infinite universe,
- you have to turn up on my ship. - Commodore?
That means this is a grade one security craft.
Yes. And I should like to know how you got here.
Don't bother, Rudge. I know how. What I don't know is why.
But didn't you send the mayday call?
I authorised no mayday signal.
My Communications Officer is attacked and then you appear.
And a fat lot of thanks we've got for our pains.
If I seem to lack gratitude, young woman...
Melanie. Known as Mel.
It is because on the previous occasion that the Doctor's path crossed mine,
I found myself involved in a web of mayhem and intrigue.
Ah, saved your ship, though, Commodore.
Yes, you did, though whether it would have been at risk
without your intervention is another matter.
Whatever happened in the past
doesn't alter the fact that a mayday call was sent.
Not by you, though, Commodore, so let's make this hail and farewell...
- Stand easy, Doctor. You're not leaving. - We're not?
I'd rather have you where I can see you, than swanning around outside.
Conduct them to the lounge.
Consider yourself restricted to passenger quarters.
In other words, welcome aboard.
Stowaways. I could have done without that on my final service report.
If you're expecting an easy ride on your last voyage, mister,
I'm afraid you're not gonna get it.
I think you're being a mite unfair, sir.
Am I? Well, don't be too diligent in policing the Doctor.
Can I have clarification of that instruction, sir?
Give him enough rope and he will snare our culprit for us.
You're really worried, aren't you?
I can't rid myself of the feeling I'm being used.
Whoever sent that message knew me.
There's a made-to-measure candidate.
- There is? - The Commodore.
- He's met you before. - He'd have said.
Would he? Admit he needs outside assistance?
Intriguing possibility, but that's all.
The quickest way out of this is to solve the mystery.
That could also be the quickest way into trouble.
- Why don't you ask for a passenger list? - Don't hustle me, Mel.
Who's hustling? ALI I'm saying is that you might recognise a name.
- Simple, isn't it? - Mmm.
- Meanwhile? - Meanwhile, I wander around,
poke my nose into a few nooks and crannies
and see if anyone tries to make contact.
Remember, we were restricted to the passenger quarters.
This is only the lounge.
Looking for something, miss?
- I see you've a gymnasium. - Needed on a long trip like this.
I thought I might do a bit of limbering up.
That's the spirit. Let me take you there.
So you can keep tabs on me?
(RUDGE LAUGHS)
Why would I want to do that?
- I wonder if you can help me. - I'll do my best.
I'd like to see a copy of the passenger list.
Put the headset on, miss.
(FAST-PACED MUSIC)
Sorry. If you get tired of aerobics, Just select another tape.
They come complete with instructions and music.
MEL: Thank you.
Professor, we have a problem in the Hydroponic Centre.
The Hydroponic Centre? What's happened?
- It's been broken into. - Get Bruchner down there.
He's in the Isolation Room.
(MUSIC SWITCHES OFF)
Yes? Yes, I heard, but who's speaking?
You're very persuasive, Doctor. But I can't possibly...
Ah! Here's the man who could give you permission.
- No, no, no, don't bother. - Permission for what?
It's not important, it's just a whim.
I'm subject to whims, so I'm told.
- The Doctor wants a passenger list. - Why not?
Indeed, the idea makes good sense.
Mmm. Well, if I could just spot a familiar name...
We'd get our culprit, you'd bid us farewell.
I should have thought of that myself, Doctor.
Sign of age. I'm due to retire after this voyage.
No, no. All complete strangers, I'm afraid.
- Pity. - Thank you.
He's been in touch. He wants you to meet him in cabin six.
- Did you see him? Get a name? - No, just a message. Let's go.
Before you go rushing off, Mel, do you know what a Judas goat is?
Yes, it's a decoy goat
that's tied to the stake to lure the tiger out into the open.
Getting badly mauled in the process.
I think I shall refuse the role.
Then where are you going?
For a non-provocative stroll around the deck.
You appalling dunderhead, Doland! Couldn't you have repaired this?
I assumed you'd want to see the damage for yourself, Professor.
And I suppose it never penetrated your thick, academic skull to check the pods.
That was the first thing I did. They're stable.
Professor Lasky, the Demeter seeds. They're gone.
Hello? Anyone at home?
- You're not supposed to be in here. - And what about you?
- Hmm? - Going for a stroll?
You just said that to put me off.
There's no sense in putting two heads into the noose.
- Ever heard of safety in numbers? - Mmm...
Looks like someone's been in a fight for their life.
Yes. Question is...
Did they succeed?
(BEEPS)
COMMODORE: Yes?
RUDGE: Would you come down, sir?
Where?
Waste disposal unit. There's been an accident.
- What is it? - Emergency in the waste disposal unit.
Cut the klaxon.
(ALARM STOPS)
Accident?
Why can't you use plain language, mister?
Whoever's been dumped in there has been pulverised into fragments
and sent floating in space and in my book that's murder.
- Have you called a medic for this man? - Of course, sir. Straight away.
Then I suggest you begin earning your salary
and find out who that belonged to.
I may be able to help you there, Commodore.
Somehow that doesn't surprise me.
If you'd rather I left it to Mr Rudge...
The passenger in cabin six sent for the Doctor.
When we got there, he was gone.
Doesn't follow that he wound up in the pulveriser.
The room was a wreck.
And there was a single shoe, exactly the same pattern as that.
And naturally you have never met the man or know why he sent for you.
- We don't even know his name. - It was Grenville, sir. A mineralogist.
Any suggestions why a mineralogist who wanted to see you should be killed?
None at all.
Or why it is that every time you appear on the scene,
people begin to die?
Hey, I don't care who you are. You've no right to say that to the Doctor.
Yes, he does, Mel.
He has every right.
It happens to be true.
Well?
Never mind them. Is the Isolation Room safe?
Yes, the emergency was in the waste disposal unit.
Then we can relax. Nothing to do with us.
That's your assessment, is it Professor? The danger's passed?
What are you doing prowling around down here?
Prowling? Why should I be prowling?
Because this is off-limits. And I suspect you know it.
I just wanted to have a peep at the Hydroponic Centre.
Any reason in particular?
I think it might tie in with that mysterious mayday call.
I'm not going to touch anything.
What harm could it do?
I'll no doubt regret this, but come on, a conducted tour only,
no wandering off on your own.
Tell me, who's the woman with the dragon's voice?
Professor Sarah Lasky. She's an agronomist.
So are her two assistants, Bruchner and Doland.
So was the Hydroponic Centre set up specially for them?
Yes, we had to allocate part of the hold.
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...
(EDWARDES SCREAMING)
(MEL SCREAMING)