on the Orient Express
Original Airdate: 11 Oct 2014
of the number 66, an incandescent light bulb fickers, then a
traditional horror film mummy is roaring and reaching for us -)
DOCTOR [OC]: Start the clock.
(The numbers count down near the bottom of the screen. A young woman in traditional black and white maids uniform walks down the central aisle of a steam train's restaurant coach. It is the 1920s, and the whistle blows. At 52 seconds, an old woman looks up, then lowers her lorgnette and speaks to the fashionable young lady opposite.)
MRS PITT: Is there some sort of fancy dress thing on this evening?
MAISIE: I don't think so. Why do you ask?
MRS PITT: Well, that fellow over there, dressed as a mummy monster thing.
MAISIE: Who do you mean? I can't see him.
(The mummy reaches for Mrs Pitt. She summons the head waiter.)
MRS PITT: You! You! Throw that man out of my dining car. It's disgusting.
WAITER: I'm sorry, Madam. Which man?
MRS PITT: Which man?! I'll have your job. That man, right there, dressed as a monster.
(The head waiter walks away.)
MAISIE: Mama, there isn't anyone there. Are you feeling okay?
MRS PITT: Don't you dare lie to me, girl. I won't be made a fool of. Stop it. Stop it. Stop him at once. Right now.
MAISIE: Mama, there's no one there. You're worrying me. Do you want one of your pills?
MRS PITT: Oh, no! Get it off! Get it off!
(Zero. The mummy puts its hands Mrs Pitt's head and she goes limp. Maisie stands up.)
MAISIE: Oh! Is there a doctor? Sorry, I need a doctor. Sorry, I don't know. She just, she just stopped.
(A man comes over to check on Mrs Pitt as the steam whistle blows. The camera moves back through the window to show us the name of the train - Orient Express - as it hurtles on through space.)
(The Tardis materialises in a space at the back of the car, amidst racks of suitcases, and the Doctor steps out wearing a black suit with a white handkerchief in the breast pocket and a loose bow tie with very long ends, sort of Western style. He holds out his hand to his companion, a fashionable flapper with jaw-length bobbed hair.)
DOCTOR: Your train awaits, my lady.
DOCTOR: The baggage car. But thanks for lying. The real wonderful is through here.
(The train's bell rings. Music is coming from nearby.)
DOCTOR: There were many trains to take the name Orient Express, but only one in space.
(Comfortable chairs down the side of the carriage, a bar at one end, and armed men standing guard. The band is playing a slow jazz version of Don't Stop Me Now by Queen. The singer is a young lady called Foxes, so that's what I'll call her instead of just Singer.)
CLARA: Of course it is.
FOXES: (sings) So don't stop me now.
DOCTOR: Completely faithful recreation of the original Orient Express. Except slightly bigger. And in space. Oh, and the rails are actually hyperspace ribbons. But in every other respect, identical. Painstaking attention to detail.
(A man with a bald head, big red beard and steampunk eyepatch barges in between them.)
FOXES: (sings) I'm a rocket ship on my way to Mars
DOCTOR: Most of the time.
(The Doctor rubs his bruised arm.)
FOXES: (sings) On a collision course I am a satellite, I'm out of control. I'm a sex machine ready to reload. Like an atom bomb about to oh, oh, oh
DOCTOR: You're doing it again.
CLARA: Doing what?
DOCTOR: The smile.
CLARA: Yeah, I'm smiling.
DOCTOR: It's the sad smile. It's a smile but you're sad. It's confusing. It's like two emotions at once. It's like you're malfunctioning.
FOXES: (sings) Travelling at the speed of light. Wanna make a supersonic woman of you.
DOCTOR: I just thought this would be a good one to
CLARA: To end it. Yeah. It is. It's a good choice. A good one to end on.
CLARA: Mmm hmm.
DOCTOR: Shall we?
(The maid approaches with a tray of champagne flutes. The Doctor offers Clara his arm.)
CLARA: Mmm hmm,.
FOXES: (sings) Gimme a call. Don't stop me now Don't stop me.
(An indicator changes from a monocle to a thumbs up with a ting! The onboard computer speaks.)
GUS: Ladies and gentlemen. If you would be good enough to look from the windows on the right of the train, you'll be able to see the soaring majesty of the Magellan black hole.
DOCTOR: Oh, I remember when this was all planets as far as the eye could see. All gone now. Gobbled up by that beast. And there's that smile again. I don't even know how you do that. CLARA: I really thought I hated you, you know?
DOCTOR: Well, thank God you kept that to yourself. There was this planet, Obsidian. The planet of perpetual darkness.
CLARA: I did. I did hate you. In fact, I hated you for weeks.
DOCTOR: Good, fine. Well, I'm glad that we cleared that up. There was also a planet that was made completely of shrubs.
CLARA: I went to a concert once. Can't remember who it was. But do you know what the singer said?
DOCTOR: Frankly, that would be an absolutely astonishing guess if I did know.
CLARA: She said, "hatred is too strong an emotion to waste on someone that you don't like."
(I thought that was a Sixto Rodriguez quote, but don't mind me.)
DOCTOR: Were people really confused? Cos I'm confused. Did everybody leave?
CLARA: Shush. Shut up. Look, what I'm trying to say is, I don't hate you. I could never hate you. But I can't do this any more. Not the way you do it.
DOCTOR: Can I talk about the planets now?
CLARA: Yes. Go.
DOCTOR: Thedion Four. Constant acid rain. Had a lovely picnic there once, wearing a gas mask.
MAISIE: That's a lie.
CLARA: I'm sorry?
MAISIE: That's a lie, what you said. Thedion Four was destroyed thousands of years ago, so you couldn't have been there.
(The chief train guard comes over. He wears a uniform with two medals, lots of gold frogging and has a gun in a holster.)
QUELL: Miss Pitt, are you sure you wouldn't rather rest in your room?
MAISIE: That man's a liar.
QUELL: Perhaps you'd allow Mister Carlyle here to escort you back.
(Another uniformed guard.)
CARLYLE: It'll be all right, miss. Just come with me.
QUELL: Sorry about that. I suppose it's understandable in the circumstances. I don't believe we've been introduced. Captain Quell.
CLARA: I'm Clara. This is the Doctor.
QUELL: Ah, another one.
CLARA: Sorry? Another what?
QUELL: Well, we've got doctors and professors coming out of our ears on this trip. So, what are you a doctor of?
DOCTOR: Now, there's a question that's never asked often enough. Let's say intestinal parasites.
QUELL: I'm beginning to think Miss Pitt was right about you.
CLARA: What's wrong with her? Did something happen?
QUELL: You mean you really don't know?
(They take their champagne out into the corridor to talk.)
CLARA: There's a body and there's a mummy. I mean, can you not just get on a train? Did a wizard put a curse on you about mini-breaks?
DOCTOR: It might be nothing. Old ladies die all the time. It's practically their job description.
CLARA: And the monster?
DOCTOR: Well, seen by no one except her, which suggests that it wasn't there. A dying brain, lack of oxygen, hallucinations. Anyway, people do just die sometimes. She was over a hundred years old.
CLARA: Says the two thousand year old man.
DOCTOR: Clara, you actually sound as if you want this to be a thing. Do you?
CLARA: No. No, look, fine. You know, if you think that there is nothing to worry about, then that is fine by me.
DOCTOR: Are you sure?
CLARA: Ah, yes, I'm sure.
DOCTOR: To our last hurrah.
CLARA: Our last, yeah. I mean, it's not like I'm never going to see you again.
DOCTOR: Isn't it?
CLARA: Is it?
DOCTOR: I thought that's what you wanted.
CLARA: No, what I mean, you're going to come round for dinner or something, aren't you? Do you, do you do that? Do you come round to people's houses for dinner?
DOCTOR: Of course. Why wouldn't I do that?
CLARA: I don't know. I thought you might find it boring.
DOCTOR: Is it boring?
(She raises her champagne flute.)
CLARA: To the last hurrah.
DOCTOR: The last hurrah.
[Doctor's sleeping compartment]
(The Doctor is lying down on his bed. He flexes his fingers and argues with himself.)
DOCTOR: It's nothing. Nothing. Definitely. Sure. Ninety nine percent sure. Really? Ninety nine percent? That's quite high. Is that the figure you're sticking with? Okay, okay. Seventy five. Well, that's jumped quite a bit. You've just lost twenty four percent.
[Clara's sleeping compartment]
(Clara is in her room, in silk pajamas and making a phone call.)
DANNY [OC]: A train in space? Sounds pretty cool.
CLARA: So, what are you saying? Just because he brought me somewhere cool, I shouldn't dump him?
(He's ready for bed, too.)
DANNY: Well, one, you can't dump him because he's not your boyfriend.
[Clara's sleeping compartment]
DANNY [OC]: And two, dumping him sounds a little scorched earth.
DANNY: You still basically get on.
[Clara's sleeping compartment]
DANNY [OC]: I think you should just enjoy your space
DANNY: Train. At least it's not dangerous.
[Clara's sleeping compartment]
CLARA: Yeah. It's pretty boring, really.
[Doctor's sleeping compartment]
DOCTOR: Because you know what this sounds like, don't you? No, do tell me. A mummy that only the victim can see. I was being rhetorical. I know exactly what this sounds like.
(He puts on his jacket and goes out into the corridor. )
(The Doctor hesitates outside Clara's door, nearly knocks, then walks on. Clara comes out and knocks on the Doctor's door.)
CLARA (whispering): Doctor, are you awake?
(Computer screens above a workbench, blueprints on a draughting table. Racks of tools. The Doctor finds a piece of equipment bubbling to itself, and apparently powering up according to the display. He removes the plastic wrapping and scans it with the screwdriver. The Chief Engineer startles him.)
PERKINS: Beautiful bit of kit, isn't it, sir? The Excelsior Life Extender. It's like driving around in a portable hospital.
(Perkins is holding a heavy piece of metal.)
DOCTOR: Yes, well, it didn't do Mrs Pitt much good, did it?
PERKINS: Got me there, sir. Certainly got me there. Maybe it malfunctioned.
DOCTOR: Oh, I don't think so. The records show that the machine did everything it could to keep her alive.
PERKINS: Yeah. And almost drained the battery doing it.
DOCTOR: What do you know?
PERKINS: Well, I know that when I find a man fiddling with a chair that someone died in, it's best to play my cards close to my chest.
DOCTOR: Really? Well, I know that when I find a man loitering near a chair that someone died in, I do just the same.
PERKINS: Perkins. Chief Engineer.
DOCTOR: The Doctor. Nosey Parker.
PERKINS: (chuckles) Pleased to meet you, Doctor.
(They shake hands.)
PERKINS: Course, there's a rumour that someone or some thing else might be responsible.
(Clara has got dressed and come out of her sleeping compartment again. She meets Maisie walking along in her pajamas and holding her right shoe in her hand, and follows her.)
CLARA: Hello? Are you okay? Hello? Excuse me? Excuse me?
CLARA: Miss Pitt, wasn't it? Are you all right? Do you need some help?
MAISIE: My name's Maisie. I'm not mad.
CLARA: Oh, okay. Er, I didn't say you were, but you've had a bad day. I think anybody could do with a little bit of help after a day like today.
(Maisie addresses the panel next to a heavy door at the end of the baggage car. It is labelled Private Company Property)
MAISIE: Computer, open the door.
GUS: Call me Gus. I'm afraid this door can only be opened by executive order.
(The thumbs down icon makes a sad noise.)
CLARA: Are you okay?
(Maisie cries as she tries pressing buttons on the keypad.)
MAISIE: They won't let me see her body. They should let me see her body, shouldn't they?
CLARA: Er, yeah, I should think so. It's in there, is it? Okay, I have a friend who's really good with locks. Do you want to come with me, see if we can find him?
(Maisie slams the heel of her shoe into the door key pad and shorts it out. The icon changes to a telescope on a tripod, then the thumbs down, then cannot make up its mind. The door opens.)
CLARA: Or you could do that because that works, too.
(Clara follows Maisie into the room and the door closes behind them.)
(The Doctor walks up to a man with a thin moustache who is reading a book, and points at him.)
DOCTOR: What's the most interesting thing about the Foretold?
MOORHOUSE: I'm terribly sorry, I don't believe we've met.
DOCTOR: You know. The Foretold. Mythical mummy. Legend has it that if you see it, you're a dead man.
MOORHOUSE: Yes, I know what it is. You see, I happen to be
DOCTOR: Emil Moorhouse, professor of alien mythology. I'm the Doctor. Pleased to meet you. So, the most interesting thing about the Foretold. Go.
(The Doctor sits down on the other side of Moorhouse's small table.)
MOORHOUSE: Er, well, it would have to be the time limit given before it kills you. I can't think of another myth where it's so specific. How does it go? Er, The number of evil twice over. They that bear the Foretold's stare have sixty six seconds to live.
DOCTOR: No, no, no. Nice try. Very atmospheric. But that's not it. Try again.
MOORHOUSE: A cynical man might say that you were trying to pump me for information.
DOCTOR: The myth of the Foretold first appeared over five thousand years ago. In some stories, there is a riddle or secret word that is supposed to make it stop. Some characters try to bargain with it, offer riches, confess sins. All to no avail.
(The Doctor opens the silver cigarette case he has taken from his jacket pocket and offers the Professor a jelly baby.)
MOORHOUSE: Well, you certainly know a little mythology.
DOCTOR: I know a lot. Because, from time to time, it turns out to be true.
(The light flickers, the clock starts ticking, and the chef sees the mummy.)
CHEF: What is that?
CHEF 2: What?
CHEF: What is that?
MOORHOUSE: But that's the great appeal, isn't it?
CHEF: Can't you see?
MOORHOUSE: Earth legends are such dry, dusty affairs, and always fiction. But up here, in the stars,
(The unfortunate chef tries to use trolleys to stop the mummy from getting to him.)
CHEF 2: What are you talking about?
CHEF: Get it away!
MOORHOUSE: Anything's possible. That's why I chose this field, to be honest. Hoping one day I might meet a real monster.
DOCTOR: Isn't that everyone's dream? But you still haven't answered my riddle. What's the most interesting thing about the Foretold?
MOORHOUSE: Well, you can't run from it, that's for sure. There are accounts of people trying, but it never works. No matter how far you run, it's always right there behind you.
CHEF 2: There's nothing there!
CHEF: Can't you see it?
CHEF 3: Calm down.
(The chef grabs a big knife.)
CHEF: Get it away! Get it away!
CHEF 2: What's wrong with him?
CHEF: Get it away! Get it away!
(At 18 seconds he retreats into the freezer.)
CHEF: Get it away! Get it away!
CHEF 2: What is going on?
CHEF 3: Stumpy, open the door.
CHEF 2: Yeah, open the door.
(The mummy is inside the freezer, behind him.)
CHEF 2: Get out!
CHEF 2: He's unhinged!
(2, 1, the mummy reaches for the chef's head and he screams.)
CHEF 2: No! Stumpy!
DOCTOR: Nope. Even colder.
MOORHOUSE: All right, I give up, you tell me.
DOCTOR: Mrs Pitt, the old woman who died.
MOORHOUSE: She died of old age. Nothing supernatural.
DOCTOR: No. That's my answer.
MOORHOUSE: Her death?
DOCTOR: No. The fact that you were here to witness it.
(There is a commotion behind them.)
DOCTOR: Excuse me, Professor.
QUELL: In which carriage?
(The body of the chef is scanned in the freezer as Captain Quell lays down the law to the surviving staff.)
QUELL: It was a heart attack. And if I hear anyone spreading rumours to the contrary, they'll be getting off at the next station, termination papers in hand. Are we clear?
(The chef is zipped into his white body bag.)
(Clara is taking the door lock apart and moving wires around. The only light is through the grill over a window.)
MAISIE: Do you know what you're doing?
CLARA: Nope. But I do need to be slightly more skilled than a high-heeled shoe.
MAISIE: Do you ever wish bad things on people?
CLARA: Oh, yeah. All the time. Whoever designed this door, for a start.
MAISIE: She wasn't really my mum. She just made me call her that. She was my gran. Do you know why I wanted to see her body?
CLARA: Because you loved her very much and were missing her?
MAISIE: (chuckles) No. You obviously never met her. No, I just felt really guilty. Like I'd been picturing her dying for years. Like a daydream. Not really meaning it. At least, I don't think I did. But now, it just feels like I made this happen.
(Clara abandons the lock.)
CLARA: Hey, listen. You didn't do anything wrong. Difficult people, they can make you feel all sorts of things. But you didn't do it. You didn't kill her. She just died.
MAISIE: Are you sure about that?
(They look at a large iron maiden or sarcophagus thing standing at the far end of the strong room. It has a large red shiny oval where the head would be and a single small red light.)
DOCTOR: I think we need to talk.
QUELL: This matter does not concern the passengers.
DOCTOR: I'm not a passenger. I'm your worst nightmare.
(The Doctor hands Quell his psychic paper.)
QUELL: A mystery shopper. Oh, great.
DOCTOR: Really? That's your worst? Okay, I'm a mystery shopper. I could do with an extra pillow and I'm very disappointed with your breakfast bar and all of the dying.
(Quell gets two glasses and pours drinks. On the wall is a framed Certificate of Bravery awarded to Capt. Hector Quell by United Galaxy Tours. The time on the clock is 11:24)
QUELL: This is not exactly within your job description.
DOCTOR: Come on, Captain. Where would we all be if we all followed our job descriptions, hmm? Good question. Glad you asked. In your case, you'd be doing something instead of climbing inside a bottle.
QUELL: I have followed the procedure for accidental death to the letter.
DOCTOR: Yes, I'm sure you have. And I'm sure you do just enough of your job to avoid complaints.
QUELL: You don't know anything about me.
DOCTOR: Wounded in battle, honourable discharge. And this is just a guess, but I think you've had the fight knocked out of you. You expected this to be a cushy desk job where you could put your head down until retirement. Well, I'm sorry. As of today, that dream is over.
QUELL: There is no evidence of any attack or other parties
DOCTOR: Yes, let's just sit around and wait for the evidence while the bodies pile up. Or here's a crazy thought. We could do something to stop it. Why am I even talking to you?
(Perkins is waiting outside with rolls of papers.)
PERKINS: Er, passenger manifest, plan of the train and a list of stops for the past six months.
DOCTOR: Quick work, Perkins. Maybe too quick.
PERKINS: Yes, sir. I'm obviously the mummy. Or perhaps I was already looking into this.
(Maisie and Clara are sitting on a box or something, their backs against a wall.)
MAISIE: This Doctor. He's your what, exactly?
CLARA: He's not my anything.
MAISIE: Oh, you mean you're just friends.
CLARA: Yeah, Of course we're just friends. Oh. Well, not even friends, not any more.
MAISIE: Well, that clearly isn't true.
CLARA: It's true. It is. It's very true.
MAISIE: You do seem to be here together.
CLARA: Seriously? We're stuck in this carriage, probably all night, and all we can talk about is some man?
MAISIE: Some man?
CLARA: Not that kind of. Look, we, er, we knocked about together, we travelled and now we're stopping. This is a, I don't know, goodbye to the good times?
MAISIE: Were the good times all like this?
(Clara laughs a little.)
CLARA: Yeah. Now that you mention it
(The Doctor is timing the recorded attack on Mrs Pitt, as recorded by CCTV, while Moorhouse and Perkins look on.)
MRS PITT [on screen]: No! No! Get it out! Argh!
DOCTOR: Sixty six seconds. It fits the myth. Did you see the lights flicker?
PERKINS: Yeah, the lights went in the kitchen as well just before the chef saw it.
MOORHOUSE: In all of the accounts, conventional weapons have no effect on the Foretold. It's immortal, unstoppable, unkillable.
PERKINS: Can we get a new expert?
(The train continues on its way, trailing smoke.)
MAISIE: Oh, he was wrong.
CLARA: Yes. Yes. Yes, he was.
MAISIE: And, and high-handed and, and thoughtless and, and, and arrogant beyond belief.
MAISIE: And you got on a train with him.
CLARA: I was saying goodbye. You can't end it on a slammed door.
MAISIE: Yes, you can. Anyone can do it. People do it all the time. Except, of course, when they can't. (sigh) Life would be so much simpler if you liked the right people. People you're supposed to like. But then, I guess there'd be no fairy tales.
(In the Engineer's room, Moorhouse is sleeping in a chair, and Perkins is slumped at his desk. The Doctor is looking through papers when there is a beeping sound and the blinds are raised. It must be morning, train time. He takes the intercom phone off the wall and sonicks it, disconnects its cord from of the wall then calls Clara.)
DOCTOR [OC]: Wake up
DOCTOR: Sleepy-head. Time for breakfast. Knowing this train, it'll taste
DOCTOR [OC]: Amazing.
CLARA: Doctor, please, I'm in trouble
DOCTOR [OC]: Can't even get that right, huh?
DOCTOR: Bad food on trains is traditional.
CLARA: Doctor, please, just li
DOCTOR: Listen, there's been another mummy murder. So our last hurrah
DOCTOR [OC]: Just became a bit more interesting.
CLARA: I'm trapped!
DOCTOR: What? Where are you?
(Perkins and Moorhouse wake up as the Doctor dashes out.)
(The Doctor hammers on the strong room door.)
DOCTOR [OC]: Is that you?
CLARA: Yes. Yes. Hello. Can you hear us?
(The Doctor tries sonicking the lock and gets a shock.)
DOCTOR: Ow! Computer, can you open the door, please?
GUS: Call me Gus. I'm afraid this door can only be opened by executive order.
DOCTOR: Oh. Forget it.
(The Doctor tries scanning the door with the screwdriver. It stutters then stops.)
DOCTOR: Oh. Now the stupid sonic
DOCTOR [OC]: Screwdriver's not working.
CLARA: What? What do you mean, it's not working? Why?
DOCTOR: I don't know. Some sort of a
DOCTOR: Suppression field, I would guess. And it has to be a guess because, as I say, the stupid sonic screwdriver's not working. What are you even
DOCTOR [OC]: Doing in there?
CLARA: Well, I was looking for you
CLARA [OC]: Mister Nothing To Worry About.
DOCTOR: What, was I supposed to waken you up? Drag you out of bed
DOCTOR [OC]: Because I had a hunch? I thought you didn't want to do this any more.
CLARA: Look, look, please, can we just not do this now? I think we might not be alone in here. (sotto) There's a sarcophagus.
DOCTOR: Is it in there?
(The light on the front of the sarcophagus changes from red to green, there is the sound of air escaping and it starts to open.)
CLARA: I think we might just be about to find out. Turns out the sonic is working.
CLARA [OC]: Just not on the door we need.
(The lights flicker. The clock at the bottom of the screen starts counting down from 66.)
DOCTOR: Clara, it's coming.
(The Doctor is works frantically on the lock.)
(Clara walks up to the sarcophagus.)
(The sarcophagus lid swings fully open.)
CLARA: Doctor, it's okay. It's er, it's full of bubble wrap.
(With flashing red lights behind it.)
DOCTOR: But the lights?
QUELL: Doctor, move away from the door.
(Quell points at the Doctor. Two other armed guards are with him, one pointing a gun.)
DOCTOR: My friend's inside.
QUELL: Then they're in trouble, too. I spoke to Head Office. There is no mystery shopper. You're not even on the passenger list.
DOCTOR: Clara, I'm going to have to call you back.
QUELL: Come on.
(30 seconds. They handcuff the Doctor.)
DOCTOR: You know, I'm going to have to mark you down for this.
QUELL: You are not a mystery shopper. For all I know, you're the one behind the killings.
DOCTOR: Oh, come on, Captain. How many people have to die before you stop looking the other way?
(A guard is shooting at something only he can see.)
GUARD: Get back! Stay back!
(His shots break glasses on tables. Nine seconds.)
QUELL: What do you think you're doing, man?
GUARD: Please, please! Stop! No
QUELL: Get up, man. That's an order!
(The mummy holds the guard's head, then he falls back. The doctor in the white coat and Edward VII beard checks for a pulse and shakes his head. Moorhouse give Quell the guard's gun. He hands it off to another guard.)
QUELL: It turns out it's three. The amount of people that had to die before I stopped looking the other way.
(The Doctor is released.)
DOCTOR: Thank you.
PERKINS: Same as the others?
(He has appeared suddenly and silently at the Doctor's elbow.)
GUARD: Excuse me please. Take his feet. Excuse me please.
(The other guards carry their late colleague away.)
DOCTOR: Ladies and gentlemen, could I have a moment of your time, please? There's a monster on this train that can only be seen by those about to die. If you do see it, you will have exactly sixty six seconds left in which to live. But that isn't even the strangest thing. Do you know what is? You. The passengers. Experts in alien biology, mythology, physics. If I was putting together a team to analyse this thing, I'd pick you. And I think somebody has. Someone of immense power and influence has orchestrated this whole trip. Someone who I have no doubt is listening to us right now. So, are you going to step out from behind the curtain and give us our orders?
PERKINS: The engines. They've stopped.
(In a flurry of electronic activity, the 1920s railway carriage decor is replaced by a high-tech laboratory.)
DOCTOR: And the facade drops away because what use are a bunch of scientists without a lab?
(A large number of people disappear. One of those remaining looks remarkably like Albert Einstein.)
DOCTOR: No. Hard light holograms. They were never really here. Fake passengers to make up the numbers.
(Hard light? Red Dwarf!)
QUELL: That was my best guard.
(Ting! The thumbs up icon on a monitor is replaced by a monocle.)
GUS: Good morning, everyone. Around the room you will find a variety of scientific equipment. Your goal is to ascertain the Foretold's true nature, probe for weaknesses with a view to capture, after which we will reverse engineer its abilities. Isn't this exciting?
DOCTOR: You said capture, implying that you can't control this thing. And yet somehow you got it on board. How?
GUS: There is an artefact, an ancient scroll. I have highlighted it for your convenience. For reasons currently unknown, the Foretold appears in the vicinity of this artefact.
(A small spotlight turns to illuminate the scroll on the door at the end of the car. It has cuneiform writing on it, which is interesting as that is really marks made in moist clay, not painted on papyrus or fabric.)
DOCTOR: And kills at regular intervals.
QUELL: Then just maybe we should throw this thing out in the airlock.
DOCTOR: No! No! No!
(Quell gets an electric shock when he tries to touch the scroll.)
PERKINS: Looks like they've thought of that.
MOORHOUSE: What if we say no? Down tools. Refuse to work.
GUS: That is your choice, of course. But it would be very upsetting were you all to die at the hands of the Foretold.
PERKINS: So hurry up, before it kills you.
DOCTOR: But even if they agree to this, how are they supposed to study a creature that they can't even see? We don't even know what the species is.
(The light flickers.)
DOCTOR: Perkins, start the clock.
MOORHOUSE: Approximately one point eight metres tall. Actually, seeing it in the flesh isn't nearly as rewarding as I thought it might be.
(The mummy drags its left foot as it approaches.)
DOCTOR: Oh, dear. Hard cheese. What can you see? Details.
MOORHOUSE: Yes. Yes, of course, of course. Uh Well, it just looks like er, a man in bandages. I
DOCTOR: What kind of bandages? Old? New?
DOCTOR: Whole? Ragged?
MOORHOUSE: Ragged. Falling off in places. I don't know what you want me to tell you.
DOCTOR: Listen to me! You can see this thing. We can't. Tell us what you can see. Even the smallest detail might help save the next one.
MOORHOUSE: The next one? You mean you can't save me?
DOCTOR: Well, that is implied, isn't it? Yes, this is probably the end for you. But make it count. Details, please.
MOORHOUSE: Er, flesh. Some of it is visible
PERKINS: Thirty seconds.
MOORHOUSE: Er, leathery. Ancient looking. Peat bog preserved.
DOCTOR: Keep talking. Don't waste this chance.
MOORHOUSE: I want to bargain for my life.
MOORHOUSE: Well, it says, some of the myths say if you, if you find the right word, if you make the right offer, then it lets you go.
DOCTOR: This is not a myth. This is real. Forget your superstitions. Tell us what you can see.
MOORHOUSE: This is my life, my death. I'm going to fight for it how I want. Er, I give you
PERKINS: Ten seconds.
MOORHOUSE: My soul. I confess all sins. I give you all my worldly goods. Only, please, please, please. No!
(The mummy holds Moorhouse's head, then he falls.)
GUS: We apologise for any distress you may have just experienced. Grief counselling is available on request. On the bright side, I'm sure you've all collected a lot of data. Well done, everyone!
PERKINS: It's recording every death.
DOCTOR: Of course it is. That's why we're here. To study our own demise. So let's get to work. Come on. Chop, chop.
(The Doctor hands out white lab coats. Later, the phone rings. The bald man checks his inside pocket.)
DOCTOR: Clara Oswald.
(Clara and Maisie are going through some papers they have found in a box.)
CLARA: Okay. So, first things first. The sarcophagus is actually a secure stasis unit.
(No point in calling it the lounge anymore.)
DOCTOR: Yes. It's where they want us to put the Foretold if we
DOCTOR [OC]: Capture it.
CLARA: Well, that would have been good to know.
DOCTOR [OC]: Sorry.
DOCTOR: Teeny bit busy round here. What else?
GUS: Please terminate your call and return to work.
CLARA [OC]: We have some paperwork. Passenger manifests from
CLARA: Other ships. Maisie recognised a couple of the names. These are missing ships.
DOCTOR [OC]: So, we're not the first.
GUS: Please terminate your call and return to work.
CLARA [OC]: I've got some progress reports.
CLARA: The Gloriana spent three days getting picked off by the Foretold. All died. Performance marked as poor.
GUS: Warning. Decompression imminent. Please vacate the area.
CHEF 2: No!
CLARA: The Valiant Heart. Forty two crew, four died.
CLARA [OC]: Performance, promising.
GUS: Please terminate the call and return to work.
QUELL: I think you should do as it says.
(Because the catering staff and equipment are floating past the window.)
DOCTOR: Clara, I have to go.
GUS: I'm sorry. I know that must have been distressing for you. But if you are disobedient again, I will decompress another area containing less valuable passengers.
DOCTOR: Less valuable passengers? How does it choose?
PERKINS: Well, I'm assuming qualifications
DOCTOR: No, no, no. Not the computer, the Foretold. How does it choose who to kill? We've assumed it's random. What if it's not? I want full histories on all the victims. Medical, social, personal.
GUS: Well done.
DOCTOR: Don't mention it.
(Later, looking at a tablet computer.)
PERKINS: Doesn't seem to be any pattern. Their travel history, interests, health. It's all over the shop. Health?
DOCTOR: Health? Are you sure? Mrs Pitt, the first victim. She was over a hundred years old. The frailest passenger on board.
PERKINS: Oh but the next to go, the chef, was young and fit. It's random.
QUELL: The chef was ill.
QUELL: A rare blood disorder. Not contagious, but we kept it quiet.
DOCTOR: Because he worked with food. The next one, the guard?
QUELL: He wasn't ill as such, but he did have synthetic lungs implanted last year.
PERKINS: Professor Moorhouse. It seems he was physically fine but suffering from, here we are. Regular panic attacks after a car crash last year.
DOCTOR: It's picking off the weakest first. Sensing the illness somehow. The fake organs, even psychological issues. But this is good news, because it means we can work out who is next. I want the medical records of everybody alive who is still on board. If anyone's had as much as a cold, I want to know about it.
QUELL: You really think it can sense psychological issues?
DOCTOR: It seems so. Why?
QUELL: When you said I'd lost the stomach for a fight, I wasn't wounded in battle as such, but. My unit was bombed. I was the sole survivor. Not a scratch on me. But post-traumatic stress. Nightmares. Still can't sleep without pills.
DOCTOR: Which means that you are probably next. Which is good to know.
QUELL: Well, not for me.
DOCTOR: Well, of course not for you, because you're going to die. But I mean for us, from a research point of view.
QUELL: You know, for a doctor, your bedside manner leaves
DOCTOR: Well, there's goes our head start. Perkins, start the clock.
(The mummy appears at the far end of the carriage.)
DOCTOR: What can you see?
QUELL: Almost feels out of focus. Gives me a headache just looking at it.
(Quell draws his service weapon.)
DOCTOR: Oh no, no, no, no. That didn't work before.
QUELL: What kind of soldier would I be, dying with bullets in my gun?
(Quell shoots a flask.)
PERKINS: Fifty seconds.
QUELL: Someone shut that man up! For the record, it didn't even flinch.
DOCTOR: Where is it now?
QUELL: Approximately twenty feet in front of me and closing.
PERKINS: Forty seconds.
DOCTOR: Am I close?
(We are treated to the view of the mummy's outstretched fingers coming out of the Doctor's eyes before the rest of its bandaged hand passes through his head.)
QUELL: It's passing right through you, like a ghost.
(Perkins is holding out a scanner and reading his tablet.)
PERKINS: It's not a hologram.
DOCTOR: If you move, will it follow?
QUELL: Do you want me to move? Because I can certainly do that.
DOCTOR: Keep looking at it, but back off quick as you like.
QUELL: It's teleported away. It's behind me.
PERKINS: Twenty seconds.
QUELL: I think this is it. Still, suppose it's not a bad way to go. Blood pumping, enemy at the gates and all that. And thank you, Doctor, for waking me up. It's reaching for me. Hands on my head.
DOCTOR: Teleporter. That means tech. Then sixty six seconds to do what? Sixty six seconds. That seems very, very specific. Too specific for organic. So, what, more tech? What? More? A countdown clock? Something charging?
PERKINS: A man just died in front of us. Can we not just have a moment?
DOCTOR: No. No, no, no. We can't do that. We can't mourn. People with guns to their heads, they cannot mourn. We do not have time to mourn. Everybody, what takes sixty six seconds to charge up or to change state? Anyone? Am I surrounded by idiots? If only I could see this thing.
PERKINS: Don't even joke about that.
DOCTOR: I'm not joking about it. One minute with me and this thing, it would be over!
PERKINS: You know, Doctor, I can't tell if you're a genius or just incredibly arrogant.
DOCTOR: Well, ah, on a good day, I'm both. Ancient tech. This thing has been around for centuries. How? Tech that keeps it alive. Tech that drains energy from the living. Scanner.
(He takes Perkin's scanner and uses it on Quell's corpse, then throws it back to Perkins.)
DOCTOR: Deep tissue scan. He's been leached of almost all energy on a cellular level. The heart attack is just a, is just a side effect.
PERKINS: Oh, it's not just a mummy, it's a vampire. Metaphorically speaking.
DOCTOR: But why take sixty six seconds to drain us? Why not just pounce?
PERKINS: Phase. Moving energy out of phase. That takes about a minute, doesn't it?
DOCTOR: That's why only the victims can see it. It takes them out of phase so it can drain their energy. You, sir, are a genius! This explains everything! Apart from what it is and how it's doing it. Sorry, I jumped the gun there with the you're a genius, that explains everything remark.
PERKINS: Doctor, I think we know the next victim.
(Perkins hands the Doctor his tablet.)
DOCTOR: Ah, of course. That makes perfect sense.
(He phones Clara.)
CLARA: (sotto) Look, she's had a bad day. That's all.
DOCTOR [OC]: Clara, it doesn't care.
DOCTOR: Her bad day, her bereavement, her little breakdown puts her squarely in its cross hairs. She's next.
DOCTOR [OC]: Every simulation we've run confirms it.
CLARA: Okay, but, but we're in here and, if we stay in here, that thing can't
DOCTOR [OC]: This thing can teleport.
DOCTOR: We need her here. Even the computer agrees.
CLARA: Okay, so you can save her? Right?
DOCTOR: Of course not. Why would you think that? This is another chance
DOCTOR [OC]: To observe it in action.
CLARA: As it kills her.
DOCTOR [OC]: Of course, as it kills her.
DOCTOR: If it happens in there, it'll be a waste
DOCTOR [OC]: So bring her to us.
CLARA: How? How exactly? She's never going to agree to this.
DOCTOR: Well, I don't know. Lie to her. Tell her I can save her. Whatever it takes to get her here.
(Perkins watches closely as the Doctor throws down the phone and walks away.)
MAISIE: What's he saying?
CLARA: He says. He says he can save you.
(The strong room door opens and they walk out.)
MAISIE: I knew he could get us out of there. I told you, he's a good man.
(Clara tries to walk past the door to the corridor, to the Tardis. The air wibbles as it stops her. The strong room door closes with a ting!)
CLARA: Yes. Yes, he is.
MAISIE: And to be honest, I don't know how convinced I am by this trauma sense thing, but if the Doctor says he can help me anyway, I mean, that has to be a good thing, doesn't it, Clara?
(Gus opens the door and lets the women in. The Doctor runs to shake Maisie's hand.)
MAISIE: Hello, again. I'm Maisie.
DOCTOR: Good for you.
CLARA: We passed the Tardis on the way here. Thought about getting inside, hiding, pulling the levers and hoping for the best. But we couldn't even get in. There was a forcefield around it.
(The Doctor uses Perkins' scanner on Maisie.)
DOCTOR: It's probably Gus trying to block our escape route.
CLARA: But how does he even know what it is? Cos if he knows what it is, then he knows what you are.
DOCTOR: Well, he has tried to entice me here before. Free tickets, mysterious summons, he even phoned the Tardis number. Do you know how difficult a number
CLARA: You knew. You knew this was no relaxing break. You knew this was dangerous.
DOCTOR: I didn't know. I certainly hoped.
CLARA: Okay, this. You see, this. This is why I'm leaving you. This. Because you lied. You lied to me, again. And now you've made me lie. You've made me your accomplice.
MAISIE: What? Sorry? When did you lie? Clara?
CLARA: Maisie, I am, I am so sorry.
(Maisie points at the mummy as the lights flicker.)
PERKINS: Do we start the clock?
DOCTOR: Not yet.
(The Doctor stands in front of Maisie and flashes the scanner in her face.)
DOCTOR: Focus. Focus. Focus! All of that is your grief, your trauma, your resentment. And now
(He puts the scanner to his own head and zaps himself.)
DOCTOR: It's mine.
(The mummy growls and vanishes.)
MAISIE: It's gone.
DOCTOR: No. No, it's not. Not for me. Cos now it thinks I'm you.
(He throws the scanner onto a table.)
DOCTOR: Start the clock. (to the mummy) Hello.
(It reaches for him.)
DOCTOR: I'm so pleased to finally see you. I'm the Doctor and I will be your victim this evening. Are you my mummy? But you can't hurt me until my time is up. I think. So are there magic words? Is there a way to stop you in your tracks? Oh, you really didn't like your gran, did you? There's something visible under the bandages. By the way, you weren't being paranoid. She really did poison your pony.
DOCTOR: Markings like the ones the scroll. Oh, and your father. Sorry.
DOCTOR: A tattered piece of cloth attached to a length of wood that you will kill for.
PERKINS: Thirty seconds.
DOCTOR: That doesn't sound like a scroll. That sounds like a flag! And if that sounds like a flag, if this is a flag, that means that you are a soldier, wounded in a forgotten war thousands of years ago. But they've worked on you, haven't they, son? They've filled you full of kit. State of the art phase camouflage, personal teleporter.
PERKINS: Ten seconds.
DOCTOR: And all that tech inside you, it just won't let you die, will it? It won't let the war end. It just won't let you stop until the war is over. We surrender.
MAISIE: (gasps) I can see it again.
(The mummy steps back from the Doctor and lowers its arms.)
CLARA: It's okay. I think we all can.
PERKINS: Do I start the clock?
(The mummy salutes the Doctor.)
DOCTOR: The clock has stopped. You're relieved, soldier.
(The mummy disintegrates into a pile of dust and old bandages.)
PERKINS: Phew. He's not the only one.
(The Doctor picks up a piece of blue tech with wires from the remains.)
CLARA: We were fighting that?
DOCTOR: So was he.
CLARA: Listen, what I said
DOCTOR: Save it. We're not out of the woods yet. Well, Gus, I think we solved your little puzzle. Ancient soldier being driven by malfunctioning tech.
GUS: Thank you so much for your efforts. They are greatly appreciated. Unfortunately, survivors of this exercise are not required.
(The Doctor has sonicked the tech, and now gets another tool from a different table.)
DOCTOR: Ah, well, there's a shocker.
(People clutch their throats, gasping.)
GUS: Air will now be removed from the entire train. We hope you have enjoyed your journey on the Orient Express.
CLARA: I take it you know a way out?
DOCTOR: My enemy's enemy is my friend. Especially when he has a built in teleporter.
(Perkins and Maisie pass out.)
CLARA: Great! So use it!
DOCTOR: A little more work.
DOCTOR: Couple of minutes. Max. I'll give you a shout.
(Clara hits the floor with an unlady-like thud. The Orient Express explodes.)
(Clara wakes up wrapped in a blanket and lying on another plaid one. The Doctor is back in his dark blue suit sans tie and is scratching at the little visible sand with a stick, doing his Gallefreyan maths. The sky is pink.)
DOCTOR: Oh hello, again. Sleep well?
CLARA: Weren't we just on a train?
DOCTOR: Oh, that was ages ago.
DOCTOR: And what? Oh, and we got off the train. Oh, well, the teleporter worked eventually. Beamed everyone into the Tardis. No casualties, just a bevy of sleeping beauties. I tried hacking Gus from the Tardis, find out who set this all up. He really didn't like that. Set off some fail-safe thing. Blew up the train.
CLARA: Blew up the train?
DOCTOR: Blew up the train. But we got away. Then I dropped everyone off at the nearest civilised planet, which happened to be here.
(View of a city with tall pointed buildings in the background.)
DOCTOR: You seemed happy asleep so I just left you.
CLARA: So you saved everyone.
DOCTOR: No, I just saved you and I let everyone else suffocate. Ha, ha, ha.
DOCTOR: Yeah, this is just my cover story.
CLARA: So, when you lied to Maisie, when you made me lie to Maisie
DOCTOR: I couldn't risk Gus finding out my plan and stopping me.
CLARA: So you were pretending to be heartless.
DOCTOR: Would you like to think that about me? Would that make it easier? I didn't know if I could save her. I couldn't save Quell, I couldn't save Moorhouse. There was a good chance that she'd die too. At which point, I would have just moved onto the next, and the next, until I beat it. Sometimes the only choices you have are bad ones. But you still have to choose.
(Perkins is looking at the workings under the time rotor.)
PERKINS: Er, it's er, quite a vehicle you have here, Doctor. I won't pretend to understand half of it. Having said that, I did notice you've got a couple of drive stacks need replacing.
DOCTOR: Oh, you did, did you?
PERKINS: Yeah. You should get someone in. And a job like that takes forever.
DOCTOR: Really? Well, I suppose, whoever I did get in, it might just be easier to have them stay on board for a while. I don't suppose you'd know of anyone?
PERKINS: No. Sorry, Doctor, but I don't think I do. That job could er, change a man.
DOCTOR: Yes, it does. Frequently.
(They go back up to the main deck where Clara is walking around with her mobile phone in hand, still in her 1920s costume.)
DOCTOR: Well, I won't keep you. Goodbye, Perkins. Good to meet you.
PERKINS: You too, Doctor. And er, good luck.
(They shake. Perkins touches his cap to Clara on his way out.)
CLARA: Do you love it?
DOCTOR: Love what?
CLARA: I know it's scary and difficult, but do you love being the man making the impossible choice?
DOCTOR: Why would I?
CLARA: Because it's what you do, all day, every day.
DOCTOR: It's my life.
CLARA: Doesn't have to be. Is it like
DOCTOR: Like what?
CLARA: An addiction?
DOCTOR: You can't really tell if something's an addiction till you try and give it up.
CLARA: And you never have.
DOCTOR: Let me know how it goes.
(Clara's phone rings. She goes up to the gallery to answer it.)
CLARA: Hey, Danny. How are you?
DANNY [OC]: Fine.
DANNY: So, is it done?
CLARA: Yep. Mission accomplished. Listen, I can't talk now but I'll see you soon and, er, I love you.
DANNY [OC]: I love you, too.
CLARA: Huh. No accounting for taste.
DANNY [OC]: Okay, see you soon.
DOCTOR: Was that Danny? What did he want?
CLARA: (deep breath, then) He's fine with it.
DOCTOR: Sorry, I
CLARA: Danny. He's fine with the idea of me and you knocking about. It was his idea that we stop but, he's decided he doesn't mind and neither do I. Oh, to hell with the last hurrah. Let's keep going.
DOCTOR: That's a big change of heart.
CLARA: Yeah, they happen.
CLARA: Look, as long as you get me home safe and on time, everything is great. I am so sorry. I've had a wobble. It's a big wobble, but it's fine. Forget about it. Now, shut up and give me some planets.
DOCTOR: Well, I'm glad that you said that, because you know that one that's made entirely of shrubs. Are you sure about this?
CLARA: Are you? Have you ever been sure?
CLARA: Then what are you waiting for? Let's go.
(They pull the levers together, and the Tardis flies.)
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