All language subtitles for xxxxx.srt

-Now, just a minute.
-Look, Brigadier! Look!

I think it's started.

All right, here we go again.

Get me the medical officer.

Lieutenant Sullivan, emergency.
Come to the lab at once, please.

-...human history.
-What's he talking about?

It's something that happened
when we first met.

I tell you, Brigadier,
there's nothing to worry about.

The brontosaurus is large and placid.

-This the patient, sir?
-And stupid.

The square on the hypotenuse

equals the sum of the square
on the other two sides.

Why is a mouse when it spins?

-Never did know the answer to that one.
-Excuse me, sir.

The daily reports.

Take him to the sick bay,
I'll make a proper examination there.

-What's happening, sir? Who's...
-That, Mr Benton, is the Doctor.

You mean he's done it again?
He's changed?

Apparently. Saw it happen this time.

-Lieutenant Sullivan?
-Yes, sir.

I'm placing the Doctor
in your personal charge.

-He is to have your full attention.
-Right-o, sir.

-Right. Anything urgent, Mr Benton?
-No, sir, just routine.

Yes, everything seems pretty quiet.

The complete set of plans
for the new disintegrator gun.

Stolen? Who by?

No one saw them. Probably enemy agents.

Small commando squad.
They found heavy vehicle tracks.

You realise, of course, Miss Smith,
all this is top secret?

-Then why are you telling me?
-Well, because...

Because there's no one else I can tell.

The Doctor's still unconscious?

Oh, he'll be all right. I know he will.

He used to drive me mad,
but I miss having him about.

He'd have been
interested in this robbery,

there are some very strange features.

-Actually, I want to ask a favour.
-Yes, of course.

You know Thinktank,
the Frontiers of Science research place?

All the latest in everything
under one roof?

Yes, what about it?

Well, now and again,
exceptionally favoured journalists

are allowed to visit it and,
well, for ages now, I have been dying...

You want me to get you a visitors' pass?

-Ooh, please.
-Nothing simpler.

Come to my office
and I'll fix it straightaway.

-And could I see the Doctor before I go?
-Yes, of course.

You're sure you've got the right man
to look after him?

Young Sullivan? Oh, he's a very
fine chap, first-class doctor.

Seems a bit old-fashioned.

Nothing wrong with that, Miss Smith.

You may not have noticed,
but I'm a bit old-fashioned myself.

Oh, nonsense, Brigadier.
You're a swinger.

Key.

Key, key, key, key.

Key, key.

Yes, of course, obvious place.

There you are. Now, come along, Doctor,
you're supposed to be in the sick bay.

-Am I?
-Mmm-hmm.

Don't you mean the infirmary?

No, I do not mean the infirmary,
I mean the sick bay. You're not fit yet.

Not fit? But I'm the Doctor.

No, Doctor, I'm the doctor
and I say that you're not fit.

You may be a doctor,
but I am the Doctor.

The definite article, you might say.

Look here, Doctor, you're not fit...

Not fit! Not fit!
Of course I'm fit. All systems go!

I say.

Well, look...

Heartsbeat?

-I say, I don't think that can be right.
-Both a bit fast, are they?

-Well, I...
-Still, must be patient.

A new body is like a new house,
takes a little bit of time to settle in.

As for the physiognomy...

Well, nothing's perfect.

Have to take the rough with the smooth.

Mind you, I think the nose
is a definite improvement.

As for the ears...
Well, I'm not too sure.

Tell me, quite frankly,
what do you say to the ears?

I really don't know.

Well, of course you don't.
Why should you? You're a busy man.

You don't want to stand here burbling
about my ears. Neither here nor there.

I can't waste any more time.

Things to do, places to go.
I'm a busy man, too, you know.

Thank you for a most interesting
conversation. Must be on my way.

There is absolutely no question
of you leaving, Doctor.

Now, you go back to the infirmary...
I mean, the sick bay,

get into bed and stay there
until I say that you can get up.

How can I prove my point?

I... I feel I ought to warn you, Doctor,
that there's grave danger

of myocardial infarction,
not to speak of pulmonary embolism.

-Yes, I should, I should...
-Mother, Mother...

# I feel sick

# Send for the doctor

# Quick, quick, quick

# Mother, dear, shall I die?

# Yes, my darling, by and by

# One, two, three, four... #

There's only one place he can be.

I thought you said
Doctor Sullivan was looking after him?

He's supposed to be.

Cupboard.

What are you doing down there?
Where's the Doctor?

Tied me up and hung me in here
like a pair of old boots.

Where is he? Ah, too late.

No, Doctor, wait!
Doctor, listen. Please, it's Sarah.

-Doctor...
-Hello. Come to see me off, have you?

Well, I hate goodbyes.
I'll just slip away quietly.

No, Doctor, you can't go!

Can't? Can't?
There's no such word as ''Can't''!

Oh!

-Why not?
-Well, because you're not...

Well, because the Brigadier needs you.
Don't you, Brigadier?

What? Oh, yes, of course,
depending on you.

What for?

There's been this robbery,
hasn't there, Brigadier?

-Some kind of secret weapon.
-Ah, yes. Very serious business.

I mean,
you are still UNIT's scientific advisor.

Remember?

Well, you can't go rushing off
and leave them in the lurch.

Can't I? Goodbye.

-Excuse me, sir.
-What?

-Could you oblige?
-Oh, yes.

Thank you.

- Excuse me.
- What?

Haven't we met somewhere before?
No, don't tell me.

Alexander the Great? No.

Hannibal? No.

Ah!

Brigadier.

Brigadier Alastair Gordon
Lethbridge Stewart.

-How are you?
-Very well, thank you.

And Sarah Jane! Well, now, isn't this...

What was that you said
about a secret weapon?

Doctor, there's been another...
Where is he?

-In there.
-He promised he'd...

- I'm here.
- Doctor, we must get moving...

Is something wrong?

You've changed.

Oh, no, not again.

No, no, I didn't mean your face,
I meant your clothes.

Don't you like them?

UNIT is supposed to be
a security organisation.

-Do you think I might attract attention?
-It's just possible.

One moment.

No?

No.

How about this?

Much better, Doctor. Now, if you've
quite finished with your wardrobe...

-I'll try again if you like.
-No, let's settle for that, please.

Time we were off.

-Off?
-To visit the scene of the crime.

The thing is,
there's been another robbery!

Tell me on the way, Brigadier.
Tell me on the way.

You must cultivate a sense of urgency.

Millions of volts
running through the wretched thing.

And for all the good it was,
it might just...

Doctor?

Doctor, will you please pay attention?

Oh, but I am, I assure you. Look.

Doctor, I have every respect
for your concern for ecology,

but, really, one squashed dandelion...

Not just squashed, flattened.
Almost pulverised.

Now, how did it get like that?

-Well, I suppose it was stepped on.
-Exactly.

And according to my estimation

of the resistance to pressure
of vegetable fibre,

it was stepped on by something
that weighed a quarter of a ton.

Funny thing is,
they left a lot of valuable

and top secret stuff behind.

Here's a list of all they actually took.

Just what you need
for the control circuitry

of one powerful,
compact technological device.

A disintegrator gun, for instance?

What do you know about that?

Yes, miss?

That journalist girl is arriving,
the one with a UNIT pass.

Something of a nuisance
at the present moment in time.

We shall treat Miss Smith
exactly as any other visitor.

I suppose so. I suppose so.

Hello. You know, it's awfully good of
you to allow this visit, Director.

I hadn't expected male chauvinist
attitudes from you, Miss Smith.

I'm sorry?

I'm the Director, Hilda Winters.

This is Arnold Jellicoe, my assistant.

So, what are we looking for?

Something that brushes aside
chains and electric fences like cobwebs.

Something intelligent that takes
only what it needs and leaves the rest.

Something that kills a man
as casually as it crushes a dandelion.

And what sort of something? Is it human?

I doubt it, Brigadier.
More than human, perhaps.

Well, whatever it is,
how do we find it?

By locking the next stable door
in good time.

-Huh?
-It, whatever ''it'' may be,

has stolen the plans
for the new disintegrator gun.

It has also in its possession
the necessary control circuitry.

Do you think it wants to build the gun?

Why else steal the plans
and the circuitry?

Now, assuming I'm right,
and I invariably am,

what is the third vital ingredient?

The focusing generator.

Exactly, Brigadier. Exactly.

Greyhound Leader to Trap One, over.

Trap One.
We read you, Greyhound Leader. Over.

Mr Benton, red priority.

Emmett's Electronics,
a smallish factory in Essex,

I want blanket security,
every available man.

Air cover as well.
I'll meet you there in one hour.

By then, I want that place
better guarded that Fort Knox. Out.

As you've seen,
we do most of what's called

''frontiers of science'' research here.

As soon as our work
reaches a practical stage,

it's handed over to someone.

Someone with more resources
and a bigger budget.

Usually the government.

Well, like the new disintegrator gun?

Well, you pioneered
the research on that, didn't you?

Well, yes.
I'm not sure you should know about that.

Whoops, sorry. Talking out of turn.

What's in here?

There's nothing here.
Nothing at all.

As you can see, it's empty.

''J.P. Kettlewell, Robotics Section.''

He left some time ago, didn't he?

That's right. There was all that fuss
about it in the press.

Yes, indeed there was.

As you probably heard, he turned against
conventional science altogether.

He spends his time
on alternative technology,

whatever that may mean.

-Well, what's through there?
-His storeroom.

Professor Kettlewell
left some valuable equipment.

We're keeping it
till he deigns to come collect it.

Oh, I see.

Ooh, funny, musty sort of...

-Are you all right?
-Just about. Thank you.

Well, let's be on our way, Miss Smith.

There's still quite a lot to see,
you know.

Oh, yes, of course. Thank you.

I tell you, Doctor,
I've got the whole place covered.

Armed patrols have every inch
of the perimeter under observation.

Helicopter patrols overhead.

Inside that factory is a vault.
Not a safe, Doctor, a vault.

There's a sentry outside it.

Inside the vault there's a casket.

A metal casket containing
every focusing generator in the place.

Believe me, Doctor,
the place is impregnable.

Never cared much
for the word ''impregnable''.

Sounds a bit too much like ''unsinkable''.

-What's wrong with ''unsinkable''?
-Nothing.

As the iceberg said to the Titanic.

What?

-All patrols posted, sir.
-Everything secure?

Yes, sir. The lads are so close together
they're standing on each others' feet.

Good.

See, Doctor, not even a rat
could get through that cordon.

Protected from every side
and from above.

That still leaves one direction.

There seems to be
a very large rat about, Brigadier.

Rat?

Perhaps you should employ
the services of a very large cat.

I'm afraid I can't help you, Miss Smith.

-Oh.
-I don't know why you came to me.

Well, I'm not too sure myself,
to be honest.

I just felt something
in the atmosphere at Thinktank.

Yes, I severed all connection
with that establishment some time ago,

when I became completely disillusioned

at the direction
all our research was taking.

The road to ruination.

I'm now devoting my life
to alternative energy technologies.

Solar cells, heat from windmills,
that sort of thing?

Yes, as you say, ''That sort of thing.''

Oh, sorry.

It's a rich and complex field,
and I have a great deal of work.

Oh! I beg your pardon.

Well, I just wondered

if they might be carrying on
your work in robotics?

No one is carrying on
my work in robotics, Miss Smith,

because no one has
the ability to do so. Good day.

Goodbye.

Good day, Miss Smith.

Just going. Thank you.

We think this is
the other end of it, sir. Only...

Only? Only what?

Only it's not a proper tunnel.
I mean, no props or anything.

Just the earth been shoved aside.

Whoever went through it
wouldn't be able to breathe.

Whoever went through it
didn't need to breathe.

And then there were these, sir.

I've left my notebook
in one of the empty labs.

I know exactly where it is,
I can see myself putting it down.

So if you could let me
just pop in and get it,

I needn't let your director know
what an idiot I've been.

Oh, please. Look, my pass is still valid
for another 1 0 minutes yet.

-Wait here, miss. I'll check for you.
-Great.

It was oil. I knew it.

Who are you? Why are you here?