"(DOCTOR WHO THEME)" "DOCTOR:" "Through the millennia, the Time Lords of Gallifrey led a life of peace and ordered calm, protected against all threats from lesser civilisations by their great power." "But this was to change." "Suddenly and terribly, the Time Lords faced the most dangerous crisis in their long history..." "(ELECTRONIC BEEPING)" "DOCTOR:" "The Panopticon." "No!" "No!" "(ALARM BLARING)" "MAN ON PA:" "Sector Seven." "Sector Seven, alert." "Unauthorised capsule entry imminent." "Repeat.: unauthorised capsule entry imminent." "Stand to on Sector Seven." "(WHOOSHING)" "Right outside the Capitol itself." "I'm in trouble now." "(SCOFFS) The Chancery Guards." "What a welcome home." "It looks..." "Yes?" "If I didn't know better, Castellan, I'd swear it was a Type 40." "It is." "But that's impossible." "There are no Type 40s in service." "They are out of commission, obsolete." ""Obsolete?" Twaddle." "Take no notice, my dear old thing." "Nevertheless, Commander, this is a TARDIS, it's in an unauthorised zone." "I want the occupants arrested." "The barrier on this model is a double-curtain trimonic, so you will need a cypher-indent key to get in." "Very good, Castellan, I'll send for one." "After you have arrested the personnel, impound the machine." "Of course, Castellan." "Will you want me to question..." "Eventually, yes, but not on a Presidential Resignation Day, Hilred." "Presidential Resignation Day!" "Data retrieval, request information on all Type 40 TT capsules currently operational." "AUTOMATED VOICE:" "Negative information." "Type 40 TT capsules are deregistered and non-operational." "Report number of de-registrations." "304." "Report number of registrations." "305." "Report reason for numerical imbalance." "(BEEPING)" "One capsule removed from register." "Reference, malfeasance tribunal order dated 309906." "Can I be of any further help, Castellan Spandrell?" "One minute, Engin." "Commander Hilred, Sector Seven." "SPANDRELL:" "Malfeasance, Hilred." "Malfeasance?" "The occupant of your Type 40 is a convicted criminal." "Approach with caution." "Very good, Castellan." "Set your stasers." "I must get past them and warn the President." "Cash and Carry, Constantinople." "Right." "Follow me." "Don't move." "I said don't move." "There he goes." "Quick!" "(BEEPING)" "Hey, just a minute." "Excuse me?" "(MAN GROANS)" "Coyned." "He has got into the tower." "You'll have to check every floor." "All guards report to main tower, Sector Seven." "Dangerous intruder at large." ""The tribunal chose, in view of extenuating circumstances," ""to impose a lenient sentence."" "What?" ""The tribunal chose..."" "What sentence?" "Oh, I beg your pardon." ""Banishment to Earth."" "Earth?" "Sol 3 in Mutter's Spiral." "Rather an interesting little planet, I understand." "Several of our..." "Is there anything further of relevance I should know, Coordinator Engin?" "I see there is an addendum." "Ah, yes." ""The sentence was subsequently remitted at the intercession of the CIA."" "Celestial Intervention Agency." "They get their fingers into everything." "Is he mixed up with them?" "There's nothing further on the file." "(CHUCKLES) Oh, yes, they'd see to it that there wouldn't be." "Can you get me his extract blog?" "Yes, certainly." "Won't take a moment." "Castellan, I have to report the intruder in Sector Seven..." "Well?" "Evaded us." "And he shot one of my guards." "I see." "Such efficiency." "But we have him trapped in the communications tower, Castellan." "Well done, Hilred." "An antiquated capsule, for which you get adequate early warning, transducts on the very perimeter of the Capitol." "You are informed that the occupant is a known criminal, whereupon you allow him to escape and conceal himself in a building a mere 53 storeys high." "A clever stratagem, Hilred." "You're trying to confuse him, I take it." "I apologise, Castellan." "He won't evade capture a second time." "In the light of your impressive record so far," "I would make no rash commitments." "I found this in the capsule." ""To the Castellan of the Chancery Guard." "I've good reason to think the life of" ""His Supremacy the President, is in grave danger." ""Do not ignore this warning." "The Doctor."" "And he signed it over the Prydonian Seal." "Apparently, he is or was at one time a member of that noble chapter." "How can you tell?" "Well, the blog data extracts of Time Lords are colour-coded," "according to chapter." "I didn't know that." "No?" "Well, your duties usually involve you with more plebian classes," "don't they, Castellan?" "A Prydonian renegade, huh?" "I have to refer this to Chancellor Goth." "Predictable as ever, Doctor." "He's a Prydonian renegade, sir." "And, as you know, when a Prydonian forswears his birthright, there is nothing else he fears to lose." "So you think there is a real danger, Castellan?" "He has already killed one of the guards." "I think he is ruthless and determined." "A typical CIA agent." "But if he is a member of the Celestial Intervention Agency, why should he wish to harm the President?" "He could have been suborned." "If he is being false to his Prydonian vows, his fidelity is already suspect." "But this note?" "Why warn us in advance?" "Perhaps to get us nervous, or just looking the wrong way." "Prydonians are notoriously..." "Devious?" "Not true, Castellan." "We simply see a little further ahead than most." "Anyway, what is it you want?" "Permission to withdraw 50 guards from the Panopticon to search the communications tower." "A great loss of pomp and circumstance." "I'll feel much happier once he is in custody." "Very well, Spandrell." "I should like to see this TARDIS." "Extraordinary to think an old Type 40 is still operational." "It is in Sector Seven, cloisters." "Then we will have to hurry." "I have an audience with the Cardinals in a few minutes." "Now, where's the local news programme?" "Ah!" "Around me in these high galleries of the Panopticon, already the Time Lords are gathering, donning seldom-worn robes with their colourful collar insignia." "The scarlet and orange of the Prydonians, the green of the Arcalians, the heliotrope of the Patrexes and so on." "And the one question that is on their lips, the question of the day, as His Supremacy leaves public life, is who will he name as his successor?" "Oh, no." "It's Runcible." "Runcible the Fatuous." "In a moment, I hope to talk to Cardinal Borusa, the leader of the Prydonian chapter, the chapter that has produced more Time Lord presidents than all other chapters together, and, perhaps, get an answer to this question." "Cardinal Borusa, if you can spare a moment, sir?" "Yes?" "Public Register Video." "If I could ask you a few questions..." "Good gracious!" "Runcible, is it not?" "Yes, sir." "One of my old pupils at Prydon Academy." "May I congratulate you, sir, on your elevation to Cardinal?" "Thank you, Runcible." "Good day." "No, no, wait, sir, please, sir." "If I could ask you a few questions?" "Runcible, you had ample opportunity to ask me questions during your mis-spent years at the Academy." "You failed to avail yourself of the opportunity then and it is too late now." "Good day." "I'm afraid Cardinal Borusa cannot, at this present moment of the time band, commit himself." "However, it is certainly no secret that a very senior member of the Prydonian chapter and the present number two in the Time Lord Council," "Chancellor Goth, is the widely-fancied candidate." "Oh, get off!" "There is no way this Doctor can enter the Capitol from the tower, is there?" "Not unless he's got the help of an accomplice." "From within?" "Perhaps he has gone to the tower to shake off his pursuers, while somebody inside lifts the barrier." "What an inventive, suspicious mind you have, Spandrell." "So this is an old Type 40." "Its shape was infinitely variable." "Remarkably good condition." "What are you going to do with it?" "I hadn't thought." "I was more interested in its operator." "Well, I shouldn't leave it here, in case he tries to sneak back." "Transduct it into the Capitol." "Very well, sir." "Oh, and keep me informed about your progress on the conspiracy." "Of course." "Transduct this to the museum." "(BEEPING)" "What a way to travel." "But which way the Panopticon?" "CLOAKED FIGURE:" "So, he is within the Capitol." "ACCOMPLICE:" "All his actions are exactly as you predicted, Master." "CLOAKED FIGURE:" "I know him." "He is resourceful." "He will gain the Panopticon without further help." "Of course." "He knows he is entering a trap." "But how can he resist such a bait?" "ACCOMPLICE:" "The hope of perfecting an assassination." "Quixotic fool." "He will die quickly." "Make certain he dies very quickly." "Well?" "We checked the tower, Castellan." "Nothing." "Nothing?" "Fifty two floors, nothing." "He never left the lift." "We think he doubled back." "To the capsule?" "Out here." "There is nowhere else for him." "Come with me and bring the tracker." "(TRACKER BUZZING)" "(BUZZING INCREASES)" "Castellan." "Now he could get into the Panopticon." "But everyone has to show a pass." "The door guards will never let..." "Do you think they will stop a Gold Usher?" "Would you?" "Get over there and try to find him." "Very good, Castellan." "And, Hilred, try to be discreet." "You know, I remember the inaugural of Pandak III." "Really?" "Yeah. 900 years, he lasted." "Now there was a president with some staying power, what?" "What?" "Staying power." "Where the Dickens is my gown?" "900 years, eh?" "I could have sworn it was here a second ago." "Here you are, sir." "Oh, thank you." "Most kind." "Yes." "Very different from the fellows nowadays, what?" "They're chopping and changing every couple of centuries." "You're not gold, are you?" "Not what?" "This isn't my gown." "That fellow's given me the wrong gown." "What fellow?" "Oh!" "(GROANING)" "There may be something in his history." "Some clue." "If only I could convince the Chancellor the threat is serious." "It would have to be very serious before they'd delay the ceremony." "The President must be on his way to the Panopticon by now." "Can I have the data, Castellan?" "This has been in the reader recently." "Surely not." "No mica dust." "What?" "There are millions of extracts in the archives." "It's hardly..." "I live with the dirt of the past, Coordinator Engin." "And I can tell you that the old crimes besmirch the fingers." "Well, if it has been withdrawn, there'll certainly be a record." "I shall want to know who had it." "Yes." "But let's see the extract first." "Pleasure, Castellan." "(ASSASSIN CHUCKLING)" "ASSASSIN:" "The innocent to the slaughter." "You have everything, sir?" "I think so." "The list?" "What?" "Oh, the resignation honours' list." "Yes, here it is." "Some names here that will surprise them." "Runcible, my dear chap, how nice to see you." "Oh, I don't believe we've..." "Oh, I say." "Weren't you expelled or something?" "Some scandal?" "Oh, it's all been forgotten about now, old boy." "Oh, really?" "Yes." "Well, where have you been all these years?" "Oh, here and there, you know, round and about." "(DOCTOR GROANS)" "Is there something the matter?" "No, no, just a twinge in the knee." "Well, if you will lead such a rackety life." "Have you had a facelift?" "Several, so far." "Yes." "Well, nice to have met you." "I must get on." "I'm doing the PR videocast." "Yes, and splendidly, too, if I may say so." "Oh, do you think so?" "Oh, it's a gift." "Somehow you have a wonderful way of making the whole thing" "come alive." "Oh, that's very nice of you." "(ORGAN MUSIC PLAYING)" "Ah!" "That'll be the President now." "He's just arrived at the Panopticon." "You sure you're all right?" "What?" "Yes." "Come on, you stupid yolk." "What?" "I should be getting a signal from my camera technician up there." "No!" "Let me go, let me go!" "(PEOPLE CLAMOURING)" "Uh, a little disturbance here in the Panopticon, as the President starts to ascend." "Already the members of the High Council, lead by Chancellor Goth, are moving forward to greet His Supremacy."