Original subtitles

Run.

- I'm the Doctor. - I'm Rose.

Nice to meet you. Run!

It's following us!

Genghis Khan couldn't get in here and he's tried.

- Are you alien? - Yes.

Come with me.

- Is it always dangerous? - Yeah.

Right, Rose Tyler, do you want to go backwards or forwards in time?

- It's your choice. What's it going to be? - Forwards.

- How far? - 100 years.

- Step outside. It's the 22nd century. - You're kidding?

- Do you want to go further? - Fine by me.

10,000 years in the future. Step outside. It's 12005. The new Roman Empire.

- You think you're so impressive. - I am.

- You wish! - You asked for it. I know where to go.

Hold on.

Where are we?

What's out there?

You lot spend all your time thinking about dying...

like you're going to get killed by eggs or beef or global warming or asteroids.

You never take time to imagine the impossible - that you'll survive.

This is the year 5.5/Apple/26.

Five billion years in your future.

And this is the day... Hold on.

This is the day the Sun expands.

Welcome to the end of the world.

Shuttles Five and Six now docking.

Guests are reminded that Platform One

forbids the use of weapons, teleportation and religion.

Earth death is scheduled for 15.39,

followed by drinks in the Manchester Suite.

- "Guests"? Does that mean people? - Depends what you mean by people.

- I mean people. What do you mean? - Aliens.

What are they doing on board this spaceship?

It's more an observation deck. The great and the good are going to watch the planet burn.

- What for? - Fun.

When I say "the great and the good", I mean the rich.

But they did this on "Newsround Extra" - the sun expanding. It takes hundreds of years.

The planet belongs to the National Trust. They've been preserving it.

See there? Gravity satellites holding back the sun.

The planet looks the same. I thought the continents shifted.

They did and the Trust shifted them back. That's a classic Earth.

Now the money's run out, nature takes over.

- How long's it got? - About half an hour. Then it gets roasted.

Is that why we're here? Do you jump in at the last minute and save the Earth?

- I'm not saving it. Time's up. - What about the people?

It's empty. They've all gone. No one left.

- Just me, then. - Who the hell are you?

- That's nice. Thanks. - How did you get in?

This is a maximum hospitality zone. The guests have disembarked.

That's me. I'm a guest. I've got an invitation. Look. It's fine.

"The Doctor plus one." I'm the Doctor and this is Rose Tyler. All right?

Well... obviously.

Apologies, etcetera.

If you're on board, we'd better start. Enjoy.

The paper's psychic. It shows them what I want them to see.

- Saves a lot of time. - He's blue.

- Yeah. - OK.

We have in attendance the Doctor and Rose Tyler.

Thank you. All staff to their positions.

Hurry, now. Quick as we can. Come along, come along.

Might I introduce the next honoured guest?

Representing the Forest of Cheam, we have trees,

namely Jabe, Lute and Coffa.

There will be an exchange of gifts representing peace.

Keep the room circulating. Next, from the solicitors Jolco and Jolco,

we have the Moxx of Balhoon.

And next, from Financial Family Seven, we have the Adherents of the Repeated Mean...

The inventors of Hypo-Slip Travel Systems, the brothers Hop Pyleen...

Cal Spark Plug... Mr and Mrs Pacoon...

Ambassadors from the city state of Binding Light...

The gift of peace. I bring you a cutting of my grandfather.

Thank you. Yes. Gifts...

I give you in return... air from my lungs.

How... intimate.

- There's more where that came from. - I bet there is.

From the Silver Devastation, the sponsor of the main event,

please welcome the Face of Boe.

The Moxx of Balhoon.

My felicitations upon this historical happenstance.

I bring you the gift of bodily salivas.

Thank you.

Ah, the Adherents of the Repeated Mean. I bring you air from my lungs.

A gift of peace in all good faith.

Last, but not least, our very special guest.

Ladies and gentlemen and trees and multiforms... consider the Earth below.

In memory of this dying world, we call forth the last human.

The lady Cassandra O'Brien. Delta 17.

Now, don't stare. I know. I know, it's shocking, isn't it?

I've had my chin completely taken away and look at the difference.

Look how thin I am. Thin and dainty. I don't look a day over 2,000.

Moisturise me. Moisturise me.

Truly I am the last human.

My father was a Texan, my mother was from the Arctic desert.

They were born on the Earth and they were the last to be buried in its soil.

I have come to honour them and to say goodbye.

No tears. No tears... I'm sorry.

But behold, I bring gifts.

From Earth itself, the last remaining ostrich egg.

Legend says it had a wingspan of 50 feet and blew fire from its nostrils.

Or was that my third husband? No, don't laugh. I'll get laughter lines.

And here, another rarity.

According to the archives, this was called an iPod.

It stores classical music from humanity's greatest composers. Play on.

Refreshments are served.

Earth death in 30 minutes.

# Sometimes I feel I've got to... run away

# I've got to... get away

# From the pain you drive into the heart of me

# The love we share

# Seems to go nowhere

# And I've lost my light

# For I toss and turn I can't sleep at night... #

Doctor? Thank you.

A gift of peace in all good faith.

- You're kind, but I'm just the steward. - A gift of peace in all good faith.

Well, yes. Thank you. Of course.

Identify species.

Please identify species.

Stop it. Identify his race. Where's he from?

It's impossible.

Sorry. Am I allowed to be in here?

You have to give us permission to talk.

Er... You have permission.

Thank you. And no, you're not in the way. Guests are allowed anywhere.

OK.

- What's your name? - Raffalo.

Raffalo?

Yes, miss. I won't be long. I've just got to carry out some maintenance.

There's a glitch in the Face of Boe's suite.

There must be something blocking the system. He's not getting hot water.

- So you're a plumber? - That's right, miss.

- You still have plumbers? - Else I'm out of a job.

- Where are you from? - Crespallion.

- That's a planet, isn't it? - No.

It's part of the Jaggit Brocade, affiliated to the Scarlet Junction.

Convex 56. Where are you from, miss? If you don't mind me asking.

No, not at all. Um...

I don't know. A long way away.

I just sort of hitched a lift with this man.

I didn't even think about it. I don't even know who he is.

He's a complete stranger.

Anyway, don't let me keep you. Good luck with it.

Thank you, miss, and er...

Thank you for the permission. Not many people are that considerate.

OK. See you later.

Now, then...

Control, I'm at Junction 19. I think the problem's here. I'll go in and have a look.

What's that? Is something in there?

Who are you, then? Hold on!

If you're an upgrade, I just need to register you. Come back.

There you are.

I need to register your ident.

Oh, there's two of you. Got yourself a little mate.

I think I'd better report this to Control. How many of you are there?

What are you?

No, please... No! No!

What's that?

How should I know?

Would the owner of the blue box in Gallery 15

please report to the Steward's office?

Guests are reminded that the use of teleportation devices is strictly forbidden

under peace treaty 5.4/Cup/16. Thank you.

- Earth death in 25 minutes. - Earth death in 25 minutes.

Oh, thanks.

Hello.

My name's Rose. That's a sort of plant.

We might be related.

I'm talking to a twig.

Careful with that. Park it properly. No scratches.

Rose? Are you in there?

Aye, aye.

- What do you think, then? - Great. Yeah. Fine.

Once you get past the slightly psychic paper.

They're just so alien.

The aliens are so alien.

You look at 'em and they're alien.

Good thing I didn't take you to the Deep South.

- Where are you from? - All over the place.

- They all speak English. - No. You hear English.

It's the Tardis. The telepathic field gets into your brain and translates.

- It's inside my brain? - In a good way.

Your machine gets inside my head and changes my mind and you didn't even ask?

- I didn't think of it. - No.

You were too busy thinking up cheap shots about the Deep South!

Who are you, then, Doctor? What sort of alien are you?

- I'm just the Doctor. - From what planet?

- You wouldn't know it. - Where are you from?

- Why? - Tell me who you are.

This is who I am, right here and now. All that counts is here and now and this is me!

And I'm here too 'cause you brought me! So just tell me!

Earth death in 20 minutes.

Earth death in 20 minutes.

All right.

As my mate Shereen says, "Don't argue with the designated driver."

Can't exactly call for a taxi.

There's no signal. We're out of range. Just a bit.

- With a bit of jiggery-pokery... - Is that a technical term?

- Yeah. I came first in jiggery-pokery. You? - No. I failed hullabaloo.

There you go.

Hello?

- Mum? - What is it? What have I done now?

This red top's falling to bits. You should get your money back.

You never phone in the middle of the day. What's so funny?

- Nothing. You all right? - Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?

- What day is it? - Wednesday. All day.

You got a hangover? Put a quid in that Lottery syndicate. I'll pay you back later.

Yeah. I was just calling 'cause I might be late home.

- Is there something wrong? - No. I'm fine.

Top of the world.

Think that's amazing, you want to see the bill.

That was five billion years ago. So...

She's dead now.

- Five billion years later, my mum's dead. - Bundle of laughs, you are.

That's not supposed to happen.

What was it? I'm just getting green lights at this end.

Guests may be reassured that gravity pockets may cause slight turbulence.

The whole place shook! I felt it.

I've hosted events on Platforms One, Three, Six and 15 and I've never felt a tremor.

If this lot decide to sue... I'm going to scan the infrastructure.

What's that? Control, I don't want to worry you, but I'm picking up readings...

I have no idea.

They're small. The scan says they're metal. I don't know what they look like!

Although I imagine they might look rather like that.

You're not on the guest list. How did you get on board?

No!

- Sun filter deactivated. - No!

Sun filter descending.

- Sun filter up! - External temperature 4,000 degrees.

- Control, respond! Sun filter up! - Sun filter descending.

Indubitably, this is the bad-move scenario. I find the inherent laxity of the ongoing...

That wasn't a gravity pocket. They don't feel like that.

What do you think, Jabe? Listen to the engines. They've pitched up about 30 hertz.

It's the sound of metal. It doesn't make sense to me.

- Where's the engine room? - I don't know.

The maintenance duct is behind our suite. I could show you and... your wife.

She's not my wife.

- Partner? - No.

- Concubine? - No.

- Prostitute? - Whatever I am, it must be invisible!

You two go and pollinate.

I'll catch up with the family. Word with Michael Jackson.

Don't start a fight. I'm all yours.

And I want you home by midnight.

- Earth death in 15 minutes. - Earth death in 15 minutes.

Who's in charge of Platform One? Is there a captain?

Just the steward and the staff. The rest is controlled by the metal mind.

The computer? Who controls that?

The corporation. They move Platform One from one artistic event to another.

But no one from the corporation is on board?

They're not needed. This facility is purely automatic.

- Nothing can go wrong. - Unsinkable?

If you like. The nautical metaphor is appropriate.

I was on board another ship they said was unsinkable.

I ended up clinging to an iceberg.

So if we get in trouble, there's no one to help us out?

- I'm afraid not. - Fantastic.

I don't understand. In what way is that fantastic?

Soon the Sun will blossom into a red giant and my home will die.

That's where I used to live when I was a little boy.

Mummy and Daddy had a house built into the side of the Los Angeles crevasse.

I'd have such fun.

What happened to the human race? Where did it go?

They say mankind has touched every star in the sky.

- So you're not the last human? - I am the last pure human.

The others mingled.

They call themselves new humans, proto-humans, digi-humans, even human-ish,

but do you know what I call them? Mongrels.

Right. And you stayed behind.

I kept myself pure.

How many operations have you had?

708. Next week it's 709. I'm having my blood bleached.

Is that why you wanted a word? You could be flatter.

- You've got a bit of a chin poking out. - I'd rather die.

- It doesn't hurt. - No, I mean it. I would rather die.

It's better to die than live like you - a bitchy trampoline.

What do you know?

I was born on that planet and so was my mum and dad

and that makes me the last human being.

You're not human.

You've had it all flattened until there's nothing left.

Anything human got chucked in the bin. You're just skin. Lipstick and skin.

Nice talking.

So, Jabe, what's a tree like you doing in a place like this?

- Respect for the Earth. - Come on. Everyone here's worth zillions.

Perhaps it's having to be seen at the right occasions.

In case your shares drop? You've got massive forests everywhere.

There's always money in land.

All the same, we respect the Earth as family.

So many species evolved from that planet. Mankind is only one. I'm another.

My ancestors were transplanted from the planet down below.

I'm a direct descendant of the tropical rainforest.

Excuse me.

What about your ancestry?

Perhaps you could tell a story or two.

Perhaps a man only enjoys trouble when there's nothing else left.

I scanned you earlier.

The metal machine had trouble identifying your species

and even when it named you, I wouldn't believe it.

But it was right.

I know where you're from.

Forgive me for intruding but it's remarkable that you even exist.

I just wanted to say...

how sorry I am.

Is it me or is it a bit nippy?

That's a great bit of air conditioning.

Nice and old-fashioned. I bet they call it retro.

Gotcha.

- What the hell's that? - Is it part of the retro?

I don't think so. Hold on.

- Hey, nice liana. - Thanks. I shouldn't show them in public.

Don't worry. I won't tell anyone. Who's been bringing their pets on board?

- What does it do? - Sabotage.

- Earth death in ten minutes. - The temperature's about to rocket.

- The planet's end. - Come gather! Come gather!

Bid farewell to the cradle of civilisation.

Let us mourn her with a traditional ballad.

# Baby, can't you see I'm calling?

# A guy like you should wear a warning

# It's dangerous, I'm falling... #

Hold on. Get back.

- Sun filter rising. Sun filter rising. - Is the steward in there?

You can smell him.

There's another sun filter programmed to descend.

# Too high, can't come down

# Losing my head, spinning round and round

# Do you feel me now... #

- Sun filter descending. - Sun filter descending.

- Sun filter descending. - Let me out!

Let me out! Let me out!

- Let me out! - Sun filter descending.

Sun filter descending.

- Anyone in there? - Let me out!

- It would be you. - Open the door!

- Give us two ticks. - Sun filter descending.

Sun filter descending.

Sun filter rising. Sun filter rising.

Sun filter rising. Sun filter rising.

- Sun filter descending. - The computer's getting clever.

- Stop mucking about! - I'm not. It's fighting back.

- Open the door! - I know!

The lock's melted!

Sun filter descending.

Sun filter descending.

Sun filter rising. Sun filter rising.

- The whole thing's jammed. Stay there. - Where am I going to go, Ipswich?

Earth death in five minutes.

The metal machine confirms - the spiders have infiltrated the whole of Platform One.

How is that possible?

Our rooms are protected by a code wall. Moisturise me.

- Summon the steward. - I'm afraid the steward is dead.

Who killed him?

This event was sponsored by the Face of Boe. He invited us. Talk to the Face!

Someone brought their pet on board.

Let's send him back to master.

The Adherents of the Repeated Mean. J'accuse!

That's all very well and obvious, but if you think about it...

A repeated mean is just an idea and that's all they are - an idea.

Remote-controlled droids. Cover for the real troublemaker.

Go on, Jimbo. Go home.

I bet you were the school swot and never got kissed.

- At arms! - Are you going to moisturise me?

With acid. You're too late anyway.

My spiders have control of the mainframe.

You all carried them as gifts, tax-free, past every code wall.

I'm not just a pretty face.

Sabotaging a ship you're on? How stupid's that?

I'd hoped to manufacture a hostage situation, with myself as a victim.

- The compensation would have been huge. - Five billion years and it's still money.

Do you think it's cheap looking like this? Flatness costs a fortune.

I am the last human, Doctor. Me. Not that freaky little kid of yours.

- Arrest her. Infidel. - Oh, shut it, pixie!

- I've still got my final option. - Earth death in three minutes.

And here it comes. You're all just as useful dead.

I have shares in your rival companies. They'll triple in price once you're dead.

My spiders are ready to destroy the safety systems.

How does that old Earth song go?

- "Burn, Baby, Burn". - Then you'll burn with us.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

I know the use of teleportation is strictly forbidden, but... I'm so naughty.

Spiders, activate!

Force-field's gone with the planet about to explode.

At least it'll be quick.

Just like my fifth husband. Oh, shame on me.

Bye-bye, darlings. Bye-bye, my darlings.

Heat levels rising.

- Reset the computer. - The steward would know how.

No. We can do it. There must be a system restore switch. Jabe, come on.

You lot, just chill.

Earth death in two minutes. Earth death in two minutes.

Heat levels critical.

Heat levels critical.

Oh. And guess where the switch is.

Heat levels rising. Heat levels rising.

External temperature 5,000 degrees.

You can't. The heat will vent through here.

- I know. - Jabe, you're made of wood.

Then stop wasting time... Time Lord.

Heat levels rising. Heat levels rising.

- We're going to die! - Heat levels hazardous.

Shields malfunction.

Shields malfunction.

Shields malfunction.

Shields malfunction.

Heat levels critical.

Heat levels critical.

Heat levels rising. Heat levels rising.

Land explodes in... ten...

Nine...

Eight...

Seven...

Six...

Five...

Four...

Raise shields!

One...

Exoglass repair. Exoglass repair.

Exoglass repair. Exoglass repair.

- You all right? - Yeah. I'm fine.

I'm full of ideas. I'm bristling with them.

Idea one - teleportation through 5,000 degrees needs some kind of feed.

Idea two - this feed must be hidden nearby.

Idea three - if you're as clever as me, then a teleportation feed can be reversed.

You should have seen their little alien faces...

- Oh! - The last human.

You passed my little test. Bravo. This makes you eligible to join... the Human Club.

- People have died. You murdered them. - It depends on your definition of people.

That should keep your lawyers dizzy for centuries.

Take me to court, Doctor, and watch me smile and cry and...

And creak?

- And what? - Creak. You're creaking.

What?

I'm drying out.

Sweet heavens! Moisturise me! Moisturise me! Where are my surgeons?

- My lovely boys! It's too hot. - You raised the temperature.

Have pity! Moisturise me!

- Oh, Doctor... - Help her.

Everything has its time and everything dies.

I am... too... young!

Shuttles Four and Six departing.

This unit now closing down for maintenance.

The end of the Earth.

It's gone.

We were too busy saving ourselves. No one saw it go.

All those years, all that history, and no one was even looking.

- It's just... - Come with me.

"Big Issue".

"Big Issue".

You think it'll last for ever - people and cars and concrete.

But it won't. One day it's all gone.

Even the sky.

My planet's gone. It's dead.

It burned like the Earth.

It's just rocks and dust.

Before its time.

- What happened? - There was a war and we lost.

A war with who?

What about your people?

I'm a Time Lord. I'm the last of the Time Lords.

They're all gone. I'm the only survivor.

I'm left travelling on my own 'cause there's no one else.

There's me.

You've seen it's dangerous. Do you want to go home?

I don't know...

I want...

- Can you smell chips? - Yeah.

- Yeah. - I want chips.

Me too.

Chips it is, and you can pay.

- No money. - What sort of date are you?

Come on, tight-wad. Chips are on me.

We've only got five billion years till the shops close.

Let's have a look at the past. 1860. How does 1860 sound?

- What happened in 1860? - Let's find out.

- I can't believe she's gone. - Not gone, Mr Redpath. Merely sleeping.

- She's on her feet and out there somewhere. - For shame! It's ungodly.

Mr Dickens, this is your call.

Use the sight. Find the old lady or you're dismissed.

What phantasmagoria is this?

That's more like it.