Doctor Who: The Next Doctor

Good afternoon.

Hot chestnuts. Chestnuts. # Oh, tidings of comfort and joy

# Comfort and joy... #

You there, boy. What day is this? Christmas Eve, sir. What year? You thick or something?

Oi. Just answer the question.

Year of our Lord 1851, sir.

Right. Nice year. Bit dull.

Doctor!

Doctor?

Who, me?

Doctor!

Don't worry, don't worry. Stand back, what have we got here? ..Ooh.

OK, I've got it. Whatever's behind that door, I think you should get out of here. Doctor!

No, I'm standing right here. Hello. Don't be so stupid, who are you? I'm The Doctor.

Doctor who? Just The Doctor.

Well, there can't be two of ya. Where the hell have you been?

Don't worry. Stand back. What have we got here, then?

Hold on, hold on. Who are you? I'm The Doctor. Simply The Doctor.

The one, the only and the best.

Rosita, give me the sonic screwdriver. What? Now quickly,

get back to the TARDIS. Back to the what? Stand back, sir.

This is a job for a Time Lord.

Job for a what lord?

Oh, that's different. Oh, that's new.

Allons-y.

I've been hunting this beast for a good fortnight. Now step back, sir.

Some sort of primitive conversion,

like they took the brain of a cat or a dog.

Well, talking's all very well. Rosita.

- I'm ready. Now, watch and learn.

Excellent. Now then, let's pull this timorous beastie down to earth.

Or not. I might be in a little bit of trouble.

Nothing changes. I've got you.

You idiots!

Perhaps if you could pull? I am pulling. In this position, I couldn't not pull, could I?

Then I'd suggest you let go, sir.

I'm not letting you out of my sight, Doctor. Don't you recognise me?

No, should I? Have we met?

This is hardly the right time for me to go through my social calendar.

A-A-A-A-A-ARGH!

Whoa!

It's gonna jump! We're gonna fa-a-a-all!

Well, I'm glad you think it's so funny.

You're mad. Both of you. You could've got killed.

But, evidently, we did not.

Oh, I should introduce Rosita.

My faithful companion, always telling me off. Well, they do, don't they?

Rosita?

Good name. Hello, Rosita.

Huh. Now I'll have to go and dismantle the traps.

All that for nothing.

And we've only got 20 minutes till the funeral, don't forget.

Then back to the TARDIS, right?

Funeral? Oh, long story.

Not my own, not yet.

Oooh, I'm not as young as I was.

Well, not as young as you were when you were me. When I was who?

You really don't recognise me? Not at all.

But you're The Doctor.

The next Doctor.

a future Doctor anyway.

No, no, don't tell me how it happened. Although...

I hope I don't just trip over a brick, that'd be embarrassing.

Then again, painless. Worse ways to go, depends on the brick. You're gabbling, sir.

Now, might I ask, who are you, exactly?

No, I'm, uh...

I'm just Smith. John Smith. But I've heard all about you, Doctor.

Bit of a legend, if I say so myself.

Modesty forbids me to agree with you, sir. But yes. Yes, I am.

A legend with certain memories missing.

Am I right? How do you know that?

You've forgotten me.

Great swathes of my life have been stolen away.

When I turn my mind to the past,

there's nothing. Going how far back?

Since the Cybermen.

Masters of that hellish wall-scuttler and old enemies of mine, now at work in London town.

You won't believe this, Mr Smith,

but they are creatures from another world.

Really? Wow.

It's said they fell onto London, out of the sky in a blaze of light.

And they found me.

Something was taken.

And something was lost.

What was I like? In the past?

I don't think I should say. Sorry. Got to be careful with memory loss. One wrong word...

It's strange, though.

I talk of Cybermen from the stars

and you don't blink, Mr Smith. Ah, don't blink, remember that?

Whatever you do, don't blink? The blinking and the statues?

Sally and the angels? No?

You're a very odd man.

Hmm, I still am.

Something's wrong here. Oh, the funeral.

The funeral's at two o'clock.

It's been a pleasure, Mr Smith. Don't breathe a word of it.

Can't I come with you? It's far dangerous.

Rest assured, I shall keep this city safe.

Oh, and, er...

merry Christmas, Mr Smith. Merry Christmas, Doctor.

Report. Cybershade 16 has made contact.

Then observe the enemy.

This man is dangerous.

This man is our enemy.

This man is The Doctor.

I've been hunting this beast for a good fortnight. Now step back, sir.

The attack is scheduled for 1400 hours.

Plans for the Ascension demand a successful intervention.

Is everything in position?

That's rather dependent on you.

All I can promise is to do my best.

Define the parameters of "best".

As you would say, I will operate at maximum efficiency.

And you'll keep your part of the bargain?

You will be heralded, in the new age at the Court of the CyberKing.

The CyberKing will rise.

The CyberKing will rise, indeed.

How like a man.

Now, if you'll excuse me,

I have a funeral to attend.

The late Reverend Fairchild, leaving his place of residence for the last time.

God rest his soul.

Now, with the house empty, I shall effect an entrance at the rear while you go back to the TARDIS.

This is hardly work for a woman.

Oh, don't mind me saving your life.

That's work for a woman, isn't it?

The Doctor's companion does what The Doctor says. Off you go.

Hello. How did you get in?

Oh, front door. I'm good at doors.

Do you mind my asking, is that your sonic screwdriver?

Yeah. I'd be lost without it.

That's a screwdriver.

How's it sonic?

Well, er, it makes a noise.

That's sonic, isn't it? Now, since we're acting like common burglars, I suggest we get out of plain view.

This investigation of yours, what's it about? It started with a murder.

Oh, good.

I mean bad, but whose?

Mr Jackson Lake, a teacher of mathematics from Sussex.

He came to London three weeks ago

and died a terrible death. Cybermen?

It's hard to say, his body was never found. But then it started.

More secret murders, then abductions.

Children, stolen away in silence.

So whose house is this? The latest murder.

The Reverend Aubrey Fairchild. Found with burns to his forehead,

like some advanced form of electrocution.

But who was he, was he important? You ask a lot of questions.

I'm your companion.

The Reverend was the pillar of the community, a member of many parish boards.

A keen advocate of children's charity. Children again.

Why would the Cybermen want him dead?

And what's his connection to the first death, this Jackson Lake?

It's funny,

I seem to be telling you everything.

As though you engendered some sort of...

trust.

You seem familiar, Mr Smith.

I know your face.

But how? I wonder.

I can't help noticing you're wearing a fob watch.

Is that important?

Legend has it that the memories of a Time Lord can be contained

It's said

that if it's opened...

Oh. Maybe not.

Yeah. Anyway, alien infiltration. Look for anything different, possibly metal.

Anything that doesn't seem to belong, perhaps a mechanical device that could fit no earthly engine.

It could even seem to be organic, but unlike any organism of the natural world. Shh!

What's that noise?

Oh, it's just me...

whistling.

I wonder what's in here, though.

Ah.

Different and metal, you were right.

They are infostamps.

I mean, at a guess.

If I were you, I'd say they worked something like this.

See? Compressed information.

Tons of it.

That is the history of London, 1066 to the present day.

This is like a disk, a Cyberdisk. But why would the Cybermen need something so simple?

They've gotta be wireless.

Unless...

they're in the wrong century, they haven't got much power.

They need plain old basic infostamps to update themselves.

Are you all right? I'm fine.

No, what is it?

What's wrong? I've seen one of these before.

I was holding...

this device,

the night I lost my mind.

The night I regenerated.

The Cybermen, they made me change.

My mind, my face, my whole self.

And you were there.

Who are you?

A friend.

I swear.

Then I beg you, John.