The Doctor: Well here we are! Hedgewick’s World! The biggest and best amusement park there will ever be. And we’ve got a golden ticket. Eh? Eh! Fun!
Clara: Fun.
Angie (Eve de Leon Allen): The stupid box can’t even get us to the right place? This is like a moon base or something?
The Doctor: Well it’s not the moon.
Artie (Kassius Carey Johnson): Actually I think it does look like the moon. Only dirtier.
The Doctor: Hey. Guys. It’s not the moon, okay? It’s a Spacey Zoomer ride. Or it was.
Webley (Jason Watkins): Psst! Excuse, I, I don’t suppose you happen to be my lift off planet? Dave’s Discount Interstellar Removals?
Clara: ‘Fraid not.
Webley: Oh, they’re meant to be here six months ago. Well that’s Dave for you, see, unreliable!
Captain (Tamzin Outhwaite): Stay where you are!
Webley: Oops! {he disappears}
Captain: Throw down your weapons and identify yourselves!
The Doctor: No! No weapons! Golden ticket. Spacey Zoomer! Free ice cream.
Captain: Who are you? This planet is closed by imperial order.
The Doctor: How’s this?{he shows her the psychic paper}
Captain: Hm. Welcome Proconsul. Wish they’d told us you were coming. Any news of the Emperor?
The Doctor: Oh the Emperor! No, no, none that you’d… uh…
Captain: We pray for his return. If there’s anything you need my platoon is at your service.
The Doctor: Right. Righty-o! Well. Carry on, Captain.
Webley: They can’t stop me being here but they don’t like it.
The Doctor: You see! I told you it was amazing. Well it used to be.
Webley: It closed down. Wish I’d known that before I landed here. But let me show you my collection.
Webley: Welcome to my show. Webley’s World of Wonders! Miracles, marvels and more await you. I am Impresario Webley. You see before you wax work representations of the famous and the infamous!
Webley: Anybody here play chess? {The Doctor perks up} Perhaps you, young man.
Artie: Actually I’m in my school chess club.
Webley: Well, follow me.
Webley: Let me demonstrate to you all, the wonder of the age, the miracle of modernity. We defeated them all a thousand years ago, but now he’s back… to destroy you. Behold, the enemy! {he unveils…}
The Doctor: Cyberman! Get down!
Webley: No need to panic, my young friends. We all know there are no more living Cybermen. What you are seeing is a miracle. The 699th wonder of the Universe. As displayed before the Imperial court and only here to destroy you at chess. Careful now! An empty shell and yet it moves. How?
Angie: Magic.
Webley: That might well be, young lady. But, uh, a single penny wins you five Imperial shillings if you can beat this empty shell at chess.
Artie: I haven’t got a penny but I’ve got a sandwich.
Webley: If you can tell me how it works I’ll give you a silver penny.
Angie: I think you do it with… mirrors?
The Doctor: Hmm. Mirrors. Clever girl. Well let’s see, eh. Low tech. It’s a puppet, mono filament strings which means the brains are in…
Porridge (Warwick Davis): Hello.
The Doctor: Hello.
Porridge: I’m the brains.
The Doctor: Hello.
Porridge: Give us a hand.
Porridge: They call me, Porridge. It’s good to be out of that box.
Webley: For you, Miss. An Imperial penny!
Webley: I have one, but three Cybermen in my collection.
Angie: Is that the King?
Porridge: Emperor. Ludins Nimrod Kendrick, etcetera, etcetera, the Forty-first. Defender of humanity, Imperator of known space.
Clara: He looks a bit full of himself.
Porridge: Don’t say things like that about the Imperial family. You can end up on the run for the rest of your life.
Artie: They don’t sound very nice.
Artie: Clara, I think outer space is actually very interesting.
Clara: Right. Wonderful day out, Doctor, but time to get the kids home.
The Doctor: Yeah, um… no. Not actually ready to leave.
Clara: Why not?
The Doctor: I don’t know. Reasons.
Clara: What reasons?
The Doctor: Insects. Funny insects. I should add them to my funny insect collection.
Clara: You collect funny insects?
The Doctor: Yeah, I’m starting to. Right now.
The Doctor: Don’t wander off! Now I’m not just saying, “Don’t wander off.” I mean it. Otherwise you’ll wander off. And the next thing you know, somebody’s going to have to start rescuing somebody.
Angie: From what?
The Doctor: Nothing. Nobody’s rescuing from anything. Don’t wander off. Sweet dreams.
Webley: Total takings for the day: one sandwich. Better than no sandwich, of course. Not as good as two sandwiches. Or even a chicken. {the Cyberman grabs him} That’s a little bit odd. That’s not funny. Give me my hands back! {the funny insects leave the Cyberman and enter him}
Cyberman: Upgrade in progress.
Angie: I hate the future. It’s stupid. There’s not even phone service. I’m out of here.
Artie: The Doctor said not to wander off.
Angie: He said that and then he wandered off.
Artie: I don’t think Clara would like that.
Angie: She’s not our mum.
Artie: Don’t leave me here!
Clara: Is this really the biggest amusement park in the Universe?
Porridge: Yeah. Hedgewick bought the planet cheap. It had been trashed in the Cyber Wars.
Clara: Who were we fighting?
Porridge: Cybermen. Technologically upgraded warriors. We couldn’t win. Sometimes we fought to a draw but then they’d upgrade themselves, fix the weaknesses, and destroy us. It’s hard to fight an enemy that uses your army as spare parts.
Clara: You beat them though. Beat them or you wouldn’t be here. How?
Porridge: Look up there. That corner of sky. What do you see?
Clara: Nothing. It’s just black. No stars, no nothing.
Porridge: That used to be the Tiberian Spiral Galaxy. A million star systems, a hundred million worlds, a billion trillion people. It’s not there anymore. No more Tiberian Galaxy. No more Cybermen. It was effective.
Clara: It’s horrible.
Porridge: Yeah. I feel like a monster sometimes.
Clara: Why?
Porridge: Because instead of mourning a billion trillion dead people, I just feel sorry for the bloke who had to press the button and blow it all up.
The Doctor: Clara. Did you tell Angie she could go to the barracks?
Clara: You know I didn’t. She hasn’t.
The Doctor: She’s just got in there.
Angie: I’m bored.
Captain: Where’s your big sister?
Angie: Clara? She’s not my sister. She’s stupid. She’s talking to Porridge.
Captain: She talks to her porridge?
Angie: Porridge. That little bloke?
Captain: We need to have a chat.
Captain: So. Tell me about the little bloke.
Clara: That was a Cyberman! But they’re extinct.
The Doctor: Listen to me, I will get her back. Captain, a word please!
The Doctor: Now. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I take it your platoon doesn’t do much fighting.
Captain: What do you expect?
Clara: What?
Captain: We’re a punishment platoon. That’s why they sent us out here, so we can’t get into trouble.
The Doctor: Right. Right. Well okay. As Imperial Consul I am putting Clara in charge. Clara, stay alive until I get back. And don’t let anyone blow up this planet.
Clara: Is that something they’re likely to do?
The Doctor: Get to somewhere defensible.
Clara: Where are you going?
The Doctor: I’m getting Angie, finding Artie, and looking for funny insects. Stay alive. And you lot, no blowing up this planet!
Captain: Cyberia-class weaponry. We’ve taken it out of storage.
Clara: Good. We need to find somewhere defensible. Where?
Captain: The Beach. Giant’s Cauldron. Natty Longshoe’s Comical Castle.
Clara: Real castle? Drawbridge? Moat?
Captain: Yes. But comical.
Porridge: You really saw a Cyberman?
Captain: We really did.
Porridge: Have you reported it to the Imperial?
Captain: No communicators.
Porridge: So you’re going to do what she says. Right. Let’s all spend a night at Natty Longshoe’s Comical Castle.
The Doctor: Firstly. If anybody’s watching this, those children are under my protection, I’m coming to get them. Secondly, little metal machine, you are beautiful!
The Doctor: Not even a Cybermat anymore, eh? Cybermites.
The Doctor: Webley?
Webley: We needed children. But the children had stopped coming. You brought us children. Hail to you, the Doctor! Savior of the Cybermen!
Clara: What would the Empire do if they were alerted?
Captain: I told you. Tell me to blow up the planet.
Clara: After they had got us off.
Porridge: Captain, you want to take that one?
Captain: No, ma’am. Just blow the sucker up.
Clara: Drawbridge. Moat. Brilliant.
Brains (Will Merrick): With respect, ma’am, we ought to be hunting the creature.
Clara: The only reason I’m still alive is because I do what the Doctor says. Can you guarantee me you’d bring me back my children alive and unharmed? {he shakes his head no}. I trust the Doctor.
Captain: You think he knows what he’s doing?
Clara: I’m not sure I’d go that far.
Cyber Webley: As the battle raged between humanity and the Cyberiad, the Cyber Planet has built a Valkyrie to save critically damaged units and bring them here and one by one, repair them.
The Doctor: The people who vanished from the amusement park, they were spare parts for repairs?
Cyber Webley: We’ve upgraded ourselves. The next model will be undefeatable.
Nothing’s undefeatable.
Cyber Webley: We needed children to build a new Cyber Planner. A child’s brain with its infinite potential is perfect for our needs. But we no longer need the children. The Cybermites have been scanning your brain, Doctor. It’s quite remarkable.
The Doctor: Also completely useless to you. Cybermen use human parts. I’m not human. You can’t convert non-humans.
Cyber Webley: Well that was true a long time ago, but we’ve upgraded ourselves. Current cyber units use almost any living components.
The Doctor: Stop rummaging in my mind!
Cyber Doctor: Just you try and stop me. Oooo… Who’s Clara? Why are you thinking about her so much?
The Doctor: Enough!
Cyber Doctor: Fascinating. A complete mental block. Highly effective.
Cyber Doctor: I’m so clever already and now I’m a million times more clever and what a brain! Not a human brain. Not even slightly human. I think I’m going to have to completely rework the neural interface. But this is going to be the most efficient Cyber Planner! Not a great name that, is it? I could call myself Mr. Clever!
Cyber Doctor: So much raw data. Time Lords. There’s information on the Time Lords in here! Oh this is just dreamy.
Cyber Doctor: Stalemate then. One of us needs to control this head. We’re too well-balanced.
The Doctor: What did you say? No no no. I heard you. Rhetorical device to keep me thinking about it a bit more. Stalemate? We each control 49.881% of this brain. .238 of the brain is still in the balance. Whoever gets this gets the whole thing.
Cyber Doctor: You understand, when I do win. the Cyberiad gets your brains and memories—all of it!
The Doctor: Yeah. When I win, you get out of my head, you let the children go,
and nobody dies. You got that? Nobody dies!
Brains: Uh Ma’am, Missy said she saw something and then she went quiet.
Clara: It’s on its way then.
Cyber Doctor: Doctor, why is there no record of you anywhere in the databanks of the Cyberiad? Ah… you’re good. Oh, you’ve been eliminating yourself from history. You know you could be reconstructed by the hole you left.
The Doctor: Good point. I’ll do something about that.
The Doctor: Did you know very early versions of the Cyber operating system could be seriously scrambled by exposure to things like gold or cleaning fluid. And what’s interesting is, you’re still running some of that code.
Cyber Doctor: Really? That’s your secret weapon? Cleaning fluid?
The Doctor: Nope! Gold! {he slaps the golden ticket on the implant} Oh ho ho! Like a charm! Right. You, Cyber Webley. And you, kid… things. I’ll bring the chess board, let’s get out of here.
Porridge: You knew it was me.
Captain: I was in the Imperial guard on Casputin. Mostly just parades, but I had the honor to guard the old Emperor during the Ice Picnic.
Porridge: When the snow bears came and danced for us. That was a day.
Captain: We’re a punishment platoon. We can’t beat a Cyberman. The Imperium has to know what’s happening.
Porridge: Like you said, the communicators are out. The only way you can report this now is to activate the bomb.
Captain: Yes!
Porridge: And I forbid you to do that.
Clara: I don’t get it. Why would you blow up a whole planet and everybody on it just to get rid of one Cyberman.
Porridge: We tried other ways, but they only work sometimes. So now we take drastic action, and it works.
Captain: If you find a Cyberman, and you can’t destroy it immediately, you implode the planet. I was sent here because I didn’t follow orders. I can make up for that.
The Doctor: Hey, Clara! You haven’t let them blow up the planet. Good job.
Clara: Did you get the kids? Are they all right? What’s going on?
The Doctor: Ah, a bit of a good news, bad news, good news again thing going on, so…
good news! I kidnapped the Cyber Planner and right now I’m sort of in control of this Cyberman.
Clara: Bad news?
The Doctor: Bad news, the Cyber Planner’s in my head and different bad news: the kids are, well…. it’s complicated.
Clara: Complicated as in how?
The Doctor: Complicated as in walking coma. {he hides behind the chessboard}
Clara: Other good news?
The Doctor: Well in other good news, there are a few more repaired and reactivated Cybermen on the way, and the Cyber Planner’s installing a patch for the gold thing. No, wait. That isn’t good news, is it? So. Good news. I have a very good chance of winning my chess match!
Clara: What?
The Doctor: I’ll explain later. In a bit of a hurry.
The Doctor: Get me to a table! And somebody tie me up! Need hands free for chess. And immobilize me. Quickly.
Clara: You’re playing chess by yourself?
The Doctor: And winning. {he rips off the gold}
Cyber Doctor: Actually, he has no better than a 25% chance of winning at this stage in the game. Some very dodgy moves at the beginning. Hello, Flesh Girl. Fantastic. I’m the Cyber Planner.
Clara: Doctor?
Cyber Doctor: Afraid not. I’m working the mouth now. Allons-y! Oh, you should see the state of these neurons. He’s had some cowboys in here. Ten complete rejigs.
Clara: You aren’t the Doctor.
Cyber Doctor: No. But I know who you are. You’re the impossible girl. Oh, he’s very interested in you.
Clara: Why am I impossible?
Cyber Doctor: Hasn’t he told you, the sly devil? Oh, dear me. Listen, soon we wake, we’ll strip you down for spare parts then build a space ship and move on.
Clara: More Cybermen?
Cyber Doctor: They’re waking from their tomb right now. You could either die or live on as one of us.
Clara: The Doctor will stop you.
Cyber Doctor: He can’t even access the lips!
The Doctor: Bit of pain, neural surge. Just what I needed. Thank you!
Clara: Why am I the impossible girl?
The Doctor: It’s just a thing in my head. I’ll explain later.
Clara: Chess game. Stakes.
The Doctor: If he wins, I give up my mind and he gets access to all my memories along with knowledge of time travel. But! If I win. he’ll break his promises to get out of my head and then kill us all anyway.
Clara: That’s not reassuring!
The Doctor: No.
Clara: One gun. Five hand pulsars and a planet smashing bomb that doesn’t work anymore.
Brains: Why not?
Clara: Broken trigger unit.
Brains: But you signed for that!
Porridge: Alice Bering, you should have destroyed this planet when you had the chance.
Cyber Webley: Welcome to Webley’s World of Wonders, children! Now presenting delights, delicacies and death.
The Doctor: Your move! But before you take it, just so you know, sacrificing my queen was the best possible move I could’ve made. The Time Lords invented chess. It’s our game. And if you don’t avoid my trap, it gives me mate in three moves.
Cyber Doctor: How? How!
The Doctor: Come on. You call yourself a “chess-playing robot”.
Cyber Doctor: How!?
The Doctor: Hey, you figure it out. Or don’t you have the processing power? Hm?
The Doctor: What are you doing?
Cyber Doctor: Doctor. Doctor. Doctor Doctor Doctor Doctor Doctor Doctor Doctor Doctor. I’m pulling in extra power. Three million cyber brains working on one tiny chess problem. How long do you think it’s going to take us to solve it?
The Doctor: That’s cheating!
Cyber Doctor: No no no no no. Just pulling in the local resources.
The Doctor: Come here and untie me please!
Clara: Do you think I’m pretty?
The Doctor: No, you’re too short and bossy and your nose is all funny.
Clara: Good enough. What happened to the Cyber Planner?
The Doctor: Out of my head and redistributed across three million Cybermen right now and about to wake them all up, kill us and start constructing a spaceship.
Brains: We need to destroy this planet before they can get off it!
The Doctor: Okay. It has a fallback voice activation.
Ha-ha (Calvin Dean): The Captain. But she’s dead.
Angie: I think you should ask Porridge.
Clara: Why?
Angie: Well he is the Emperor. I bet he knows the activation codes. Oh come on, it’s obvious. He looks exactly like he does on the coin and on the waxwork. Except they made him a bit taller. But look, am I the only one paying attention to anything around here?
Clara: You are full of surprises. Porridge!
Porridge: She’s right.
Clara: So you can save us?
Porridge: We all die in the end. Does it matter how?
Porridge: I don’t want to be Emperor. If I activate that bomb, it’s all over.
The Doctor: And if you don’t, three million Cybermen will spread across the galaxy. Isn’t that worth dying for?
Porridge: Doctor—
The Doctor: Three million Cybermen.
Porridge: The bomb, the throne, it’s all connected. I just have to say, “This is Emperor Ludins Nimrod Kendrick Cord Longstaff the 41st, defender of humanity, Imperator of known space. Activate the desolator.” And it’s done.
The Doctor: Here we are. Nice ship. Bit big, not blue enough.
Porridge: And that’s that.
Porridge: Farewell, Cyberiad. You know it was good to get away. Good to be a person. It’s good not to be lonely or Emperor of a thousand galaxies with everyone waiting for me to tell them what to do.
Artie: Can’t you run away again?
Porridge: They’ll be keeping a close eye on me this time. That’s what happens when you’re Emperor. Loneliest job in the universe.
Angie: When someone asks you if you want to be queen of the universe, you say yes.
Artie: Thank you for having me. It was very interesting.
The Doctor: My pleasure. Thank you for coming. Now, I’ve got something for you.
It’s not from me, it’s from the TARDIS. Ah! New phone.
Angie: Thanks!
The Doctor: You’re welcome.
Angie: Sorry I said this box was stupid.
Clara: See you next Wednesday!
The Doctor: Well, a Wednesday, definitely. Next Wednesday, last Wednesday. One of the Wednesdays.
The Doctor: Impossible girl. A mystery wrapped in an enigma squeezed into a skirt that’s just a little bit too tight.