The story so far, the doctor has been taken out of time and put on
a trial for his life after several pieces of increasingly bizarre
evidence.
The trial falls apart at the end when the script writer runs away
with his script.
Surely anyone who discovered this final part of Trial of Time Lord
would be mad to attempt a recording.
Flight through entirety present Doctor Who, Time Incorporated.
The unuse script for the Trial of a Time Lord, Episode 14, by Eric
Saywood.
Kill me, and you will never gain my remaining regenerations.
But you've already signed them away.
To J.J.
Chambers, not to you.
For the sake of this charade, I am J.J.
Chambers.
I thought you understood.
You were in a world entirely of my making.
That I deny your world.
So you keep saying...
But you know you haven't the strength.
I have perfected the talent for mind control and illusion, which
you chose in your misguided youth to neglect.
Illusion is for the theatre.
Not real life.
Even you must understand that.
Illusion is an honoured time lord cult.
Not any longer.
As with mind linking and levitation, it is only seriously
practised nowadays by children's entertainers, and the weak
minded.
Feeble provocation, doctor.
Then here's a bit more.
Do you really think the High Council is any longer in a position
to ratify the so called deal it has with you?
I have an inviolable agreement.
Rubbish.
Such a covenant could only be lodged in the matrix.
Correct.
Pledged, signed, and sealed by each and every member of the high
council.
The moment you die, your unused lives will be transferred to me
and I will...
You really believe that?
You would have killed me at the first opportunity.
I wish to savour the moment of my death.
After all, how many people survive successful self murder.
Oh.
It's up to my neck.
Garbage.
I've heard more sense from a lobotomised spiel snape.
The truth of the magic means that you've lost your nerve.
Too many games have been played with the Matrix for you to be able
to trust either it or the High Council...
I dictated the contract myself.
I know that it is inviolable.
I'd have another look if I were you.
Check the small print, and I mean the small print they inserted
after the deal was struck.
Again, feeble provocation.
Whether you like it or not, you are the chief prosecution witness
against the High Council.
When they come to court, as they certainly will, things would be
much easier if you weren't around to contradict their lies.
Kill me, and you kill yourself.
That is the only contract the High Council will ratify.
What are you doing?
You screed?
You've done away with him.
Be still, fool.
The doctor is unharmed.
Then what's going on?
Another mind is attempting to break into my illusion.
I said, be silent.
Swimming in treacle.
Oh, no.
The master.
It would have to be you.
Show a little gratitude, my dear doctor.
I am here at enormous inconvenience to myself.
My apologies.
I'm grateful.
Now, please get me out.
Oh, I didn't realise his illusions could be so messy.
Now what?
The difficult part.
Concentrate.
Ring around the roses, pocket for the pose, easy, ashes, ashes
ashes, we all fall down.
Well, this fog has gotten the mud right out of my clothes.
You know we're still in the matrix.
It's worse than that.
You're still in the Valliard's illusion.
Surely you can get me out of something so elementary.
Not when he is sustaining the illusion by drawing power from the
very core of the matrix.
Although I may appear to be my usual suave, verbane self, I'm, in
fact, using up massive amounts of energy to sustain my presence.
Then we must find him quickly before he can cause any more
trouble.
That you must do alone.
Don't worry about me.
He won't harm you until he's confirmed the wording of the contract
lodged in the Matrix.
I know.
But find him quickly.
Oh, that barrel again.
And wet footprints getting out of it.
Hmm.
Is that the best you can do?
So much power, yet so little imagination.
So you think I like imagination?
We shall see, doctor.
But you won't kill him.
The dog's right, isn't he?
You're dead frightened that my council's got at your contract.
This is too typical of the master.
First, he's here.
Then he's gone.
A most confusing fellow.
Does it matter?
Just so long as he helps.
I fear that whatever the master does will be exclusively for his
own purpose.
According to the doctor, most time lords are the same.
Oh, very cynical observation.
We are simply a very old civilisation prone to a certain
eccentricity and...
A word in your ear.
The high council has resigned, which, I gather, has sent Galifrey
into turmoil.
Do they know yet of the events that have taken place here?
Neither must they.
Knowledge that the matrix has been violated could lead to civil
war.
Help the doctor find the valiard and no one need ever know.
If only it were that simple child.
He will never find his way in here.
The doctor's thought patterns are very confusing.
I sense that he's concerned about something called Mel Bush.
Why should he be thinking about a plant?
Mel Borch.
It must be that bit of siddly knocks about with.
Her name's Mel. indeed.
That's her.
Perfect.
Oh, she's done you no arm.
Sentimentality does not become you, Sabalong glitz.
At least I'm capable of it.
It is a weakness, and not a thing to boast about.
What are you gonna do with him now?
Lose him in a very safe place.
To what end?
You're running out of time.
Someone's already managed to break into your illusion.
I only need to keep the doctor safe until I have confirmed the
wording of my contract.
Knowing the time, Lords.
I suggest you get on with it.
Hmm, nothing in here.
Who know what's through this door?
Oh.
Well, I didn't expect to find a monk.
Are you looking for something, sir?
Mr. Popplewell?
Popblewick, actually, sir.
Do you get extra for dressing up?
Or is it some sort of fetish?
I sense a certain hostility, sir.
Your sense considerably more.
If you don't tell me where that valleyard is.
Please, sir, show respect for the cloth, sir.
The cloth is safe.
It's you I intend to flatten.
Such aggression, sir, and me just a humble messenger, sir.
The ancient Greeks used to kill messengers who brought bad news.
An unruly lot, the Greeks, sir.
But, fortunately, the message I bring will placate and soothe
sir.
Mr. Chambers has granted you an appointment, sir.
The Valiard, the very one, sir.
Then lead on.
At once, sir.
I'm afraid our journey is a long one, sir.
But before we start, we must collect a friend of yours.
Stabalong glitz.
No, sir.
He is already with Mr. Chambers, sir.
Will you stop calling me sir?
Of course, sir.
No, sir.
The young woman we have to collect is a Ms. Melanie Bush, sir.
She's here.
Followed you into the Matrix, sir.
Such a foolish thing to do, sir.
Indeed.
And where is she?
Through this door, sir.
After you.
You lack trust, sir.
This is no trick, sir.
Follow me, sir.
Of course, uh, when I was a boy...
You fool, Doctor...
Now you will see the power of the most perfect geometrical shape.
Can't whines.
I was not speaking to you, microbe.
Not much further, sir.
What a depressing place.
I'm surprised you don't recognise it, um...
Should I?
Oh, yes, sir.
Melanie.
Help me, help me, help me.
What's happening?
Popperwick.
Mr. Popawwick.
Are you all right?
For the moment.
Oh, but there's something dreadful down here.
I can sense it.
Let's go.
The door's this way, but I came from this direction.
There isn't a door in that direction, Doctor.
It must be... came through it.
Come and look.
I'm frightened, Doctor.
There's no need to be.
We'll soon be out of here.
Oh, I think I've been going around in circles.
Circles.
You know, round things.
How do you know?
Well, look here, on the wall.
This jagged scar.
I've passed it three times.
Are you certain?
Of course I am.
No, no, no, no, no.
If you'd been perambulating in an annular fashion, you would have
passed not only your interest, but mine.
I haven't passed any entrances.
Therefore, you can't have been progressing in an orbital fashion.
Oh, no?
Well, if you think you will, explain.
I don't know, if you don't know, how can you know you've been
cruising in a cyclical manner?
I told you about the markings on the wall.
I've passed them three times.
If you'd passed them three times.
You'd have also passed the entrances.
Yes?
No.
I don't understand.
Why are you saying no?
I don't know.
You don't know why you're saying no?
No.
I mean, yes, I do know why I'm saying no.
I'm saying no, because I don't know why I've passed the markings
three times, and yet haven't passed the entrances.
We're getting very long winded.
I know.
That positively orbital.
All right.
Let's assume for the sake of argument that you have passed this
way before.
Right.
So how could you have done that without encountering the
entrance?
You've just said that.
It's worth saying once, it's worth a circular. restatement.
Then I don't know.
What?
Why?
I've passed the entrances without seeing them.
I can only assume they've been moved.
As in transportation?
No, h hidden.
Disguised.
Maybe.
Who would do that?
I don't know.
Unless someone wants us to think we're not orbiting this
circulation of a circumference in a peripatetic mode.
Did I say all that?
It would have ruptured my larynx if I had.
What's happening, doctor?
I don't know.
It's as though we're becoming obsessed with circumambulation.
Added to which, a degree of circumloquacious circumvolution has
edged into our vocabulary.
Not to mention circular tortology.
What a terrible thought.
Trapped like mice in an exercise wheel forever.
Doomed to run around, and around and around, and get nowhere.
What are we going to do, Doctor?
I don't know.
We're being conditioned to accept, in every respect, the world of
the circle.
The most complete shape contained in a single line.
Awesome.
The perfect trap.
No beginning, no end, complete in itself.
Let's go around the corridor one more time.
Whatever for?
We may still find the entrance.
But you've already been round three times.
There weren't more circuit for luck.
Why?
Why not?
We've got nothing else to do.
So we go round and round until we collapse.
Or escape.
You're a past master at escaping.
But how do you find a gap in the most perfect shape ever created?
Especially when your mind is being conditioned to think in
circles.
I don't understand, Doctor.
I do.
And suddenly, very clearly.
You go on, I want to think.
Oh, deary me, sir, you're proving heart, O clever for us, sir.
Where am I?
Inside your own mind, sir.
Thought that would confuse you, good and proper, sir.
It almost did, through this door, so...
You had better wait here in the alley, sir.
I should think Mr. Chambers will want to have a word with you
sir.
You're not, by any chance, Mr. Chambers.
Me, sir?
Oh, no.
No, sir.
Are you sure?
Let's see what's under this rope.
As I have told you, sir.
I am just a humble servant.
Appropriately enough.
Full of hot air.
Well, that was a bit of a waste of time.
Either, your perfect shape theory is wrong, or his control is
getting stronger.
Be silent.
Shouting at me won't help.
It's what you're going to do with him that matters.
Why do fools always state the obvious?
So that they can get things in the open and size them up.
Something super brains don't do very often.
Believe it or not, the question was rhetorical.
Nevertheless, it still don't answer.
What you're going to do about him.
He will die.
But only if the contract with the eye council proves boner, fi
day.
But what if it don't?
Then everything dies.
Eh?
Everything?
Bit excessive in it, I mean, I understand the disappointment when
a caper falls up.
I am not engaged in a caper.
Well, you can call it whatever you like, but you've got to
understand that even in criminal circles.
There are rules.
You can't go round committing geno's side and expect to continue
earning an honest living as a crook.
The public won't put up with it.
I need the doctor's remaining lives.
Without them, I shall die.
And if I am denied them...
Oh, what your plan is too extreme, then all they have to do is
give me what I want.
Even time lords can't give other people's lives away.
If there is to be a future, then they will have to start now.
What is going on?
Please, madam.
We must maintain a certain decorum and dignity.
Blast decorum and dignity?
We have intruders running about the matrix, causing who knows how
much havoc.
You have a right to be concerned, madam.
Oh, it's the master.
Yes, I'm so concerned.
Never have I had such an attentive audience.
The Valiard hasn't done anything irreparable to the Matrix.
Not yet, my dear keeper.
But then he has yet to learn that his contract with the High
Council has been revoked.
How did you know that?
We've only just learned that ourselves.
I happen to be listening.
Then you will also know that the contract was highly illegal.
It should never have been drawn up, let alone lodged in the
Matrix.
You may find the valleyard in violent disagreement with you.
The laws of time is sacrecinct.
Surely, he must understand that.
Exception can be made for no one.
He has reached the end of his lives, and he's dying.
It comes to us all.
Latitudes are a poor substitute for argument, my dear inquisitor
especially when the person there aimed at has the power to destroy
the universe.
To the universe.
He isn't capable.
Oh, but he is.
I have located the Balliard's base.
It seems he has been very particular as to where he has located
his control room.
Do tell.
It has been constructed around a time vent.
What's the time?
It a bluff.
He doesn't mean it.
He won't open it.
As far as I can ascertain.
That is precisely his intention, my dear keeper.
What's he talking about?
Now, now, child.
Please.
The doctor's in the Matrix.
I would like to know what danger he's in.
The same danger as us all.
If the Valiard does open the vent, An erratic surge of time will
enter our stabilised continuum.
The effect will be devastating, like mixing matter and anti
matter.
Then you must stop the valiard.
That could prove very difficult, child.
We would have to move against him with great care.
I have calculated that if the event were open for more than 72
seconds, the time continued, would be irrevocably damaged.
How long do you anticipate it will be before the valleyard
realises his contract has been withdrawn from the matrix?
Very soon.
There may still be time to return it.
That could cost the doctor his life.
No!
It would also create an unacceptable... precedent.
You're not thinking, keeper.
If the valiard opens the vent.
There will no longer be precedents.
In fact, there will no longer be anything at all.
It's gone.
What?
The contract has been revoked.
Carnev.
You sure you looked in the right place?
Of course I am.
Another mind has broken into my illusion.
Oh, you won't do anything silly.
I've primed the explosive bolts on the vent door.
No!
All that is necessary now is for me to ease the door open.
Right, the fantasy factory.
Have I break in?
Oh...
Pen knife.
Come on, come on.
Open, open, open.
Ugh.
A tissue compression eliminator.
How predictable.
I could easily have killed you if I wanted the High Council, want
you dead.
Why don't you oblige them and become a local hero?
And spoil my anti establishment image.
I don't think so.
In any case, I've left it too late.
The Valliards contract has been revoked.
If I kill you, he'll sense it.
He'll do more than that.
He'll also die.
But not before he's opened a time vent, and taken everything with
him.
It seems he's thought of everything, and only you can get close
enough to stop him.
Then I'd better get a move on.
Good luck.
Makes me wonder if I'm doing the right thing.
Valyard?
I know you can hear me.
I want to make a deal with you.
Go on, answer him.
The masters just told me that you might feel a little inclined to
open a time vent.
So?
You don't really want to do that.
Not when you've won.
My remaining lives are yours.
I don't trust him.
That's a nice way to talk about yourself.
The High Council will never permit it.
Then we'll make our own deal.
They won't be able to stop us.
Come on.
Let me in.
Now the door opens.
We may yet win.
The valiard has allowed the doctor to enter his base.
Is it possible for the same body to exist in close proximity with
itself?
Yes, madam.
The Matrix, like the trial room, is outside of time.
Is the doctor all right?
For the time being.
Can I see him?
Precisely what I intended.
I see that the master was telling the truth.
Doctor!
You won't be able to hear your child.
You've already blown the bolts on the time bent.
Did he think I was bluffing?
No.
But I hoped you were.
Forever sentimental.
Not this time.
You want to destroy everything?
Go ahead.
Do you think it wise to provoke psychotic sociopaths to extremes
of violence?
You overestimate him.
He's just a pathetic old man.
You lied to me.
You never intended to surrender your lives.
That's right.
So now you can go ahead and destroy everything.
Isn't that what you want?
What are you saying?
However did I develop into such a pathetic individual?
You've allowed the high council, of all people, to manipulate you
from beginning to end.
You even connived in their pathetic endeavours to cover up the
near destruction of Earth.
Supposedly your favourite planet.
You've destroyed the credibility of the Matrix, along with what
was left of the Timel's reputation.
And for what?
So that you may extend your miserable life.
Keep back.
Don't come near me.
You don't deserve to live.
What has he done?
In time, you go over the inch!
No!
It wasn't an accident.
The doctor took them in on purpose.
That's nothing to do without this.
Glip!
There is very little time.
You must close the vent door.
Oh, boy.
Oh!
What's happening now?
The Valley Art Delusion, it's breaking up.
Must get out of the Matrix.
I don't know the way.
I'll guide you.
Now hurry.
These corridors look the same to me.
A matrix must be made secure.
We cannot risk such another occurrence.
Oh, it's time for me to retire.
You've hardly begun.
With the doctor out of the way, the universe is ours.
I'll tell you what.
You can have my off as well.
Thank you, I accept.
Good, because all I want to do is go home.
I would like to be returned to my own planet and time.
Of course, child.
I shall miss the doctor very much.
Oh, I'm sure we all will.
Won't we, keep her?
What?
Oh.
Yes, of course.
With you?
Ever be able to retrieve his body?
Shouldn't think so.
Can't risk reopening the vent.
If they want to get out, it'll have to be through their own
ingenuity.
You mean, the doctor is still alive?
Of course, child.
They both are.
I didn't realise.
Mind you, getting out of that mess won't be easy.
I'm sure the doctor will succeed.
He must.
If he doesn't.
The vent will remain his prison for eternity.
That was Time Incorporated.
The unused episode 14 of the Trial of a Time Lord, written by Eric
Saywood, adapted by flight through entirety.
Todd Beelby was a doctor and the keeper of the Matrix.
Nathan Bottomley was the valiard.
Brendan Jones was Melanie Bush and Mr. Popplewick.
Richard Stone was the inquisitor and Sabalong Glitz, and special
guest star, James Selwood, was the master.
Incidental music by generous arrangement with Dominic Glynn.
Theme arrangement by Cameron Lamb, produced and edited by Brendan
Jones, using GarageBand or Audacity, and a megabyte mode.
Time Lord chatter.
Okay, come gather around.
We could say whatever we like.
Personally, I'm in favour of summary execution.
That's great.
What happened to that girl?
I don't know, but, um, there's something here called the web of
fear.
Maybe we can watch that one.
It might be a bit better.
Insurrectionists?
running amuck on Gallifray?
Rhubar.
Love it when that happens.
Sorry, send it in.
Insurrectionist, running on Gallifrey.
I love it when that happens.
Rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb.
Who are you voting for in the election?
My choice is for Gary Russell here.
Iceberg, iceberg.
Massive for my dead baby.
Keep going, keep going.
My hip still playing up, you know.
Sparkle.
I'm just quenching French and saunders now.
Well, I just think that Silurian seen better days.
How about you?
And I can't think what else to say.
Hello.
Usually we're not at a loss for words, are we?
How does that sound?
Are you taping this?
Oh, okay.
I thought you just wanted to get the pitch right.
All right, well, let's Todd.
Shall we just chat with that?
Dahlia.
That Elsbeth Gray, I tell you, she's never been the same since she
came back from spotting around with that Jeffrey Baylton, honestly
it's a travesty.
She's never got that job, you know?
Well, she did.
Well, I shouldn't think so, too.
You know how she got that job, don't you?
Yes.
Yes. rough scrubbers knees and no comments.
Right in the loo.
Excellent.
That's all going to come out. rah, rah, rah, rah, rah, rah.
In turmoil?
Oh, it's the master.
I'm so concerned by my life.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.
Oh, God.
I can't.
And then he started wearing all of Chancellor Flavia's dresses.
I can't believe it.
My hip is really still hurting.
Okay.
Thank you very much, Chef.
Is that a real moustache?
I would be just pleased to see us.
All right.
Oh, what's that?
Destroy the universe.
But that's where I keep all my stuff.
Knickers.
Matrix, my matrix.
The universe?
Oh, no, but that's where I keep all my stuff.
Where am I going to put everything?
Bollons.
Beat my pants.
Oh, I'm so glad I'm in the yellow house.
Okay.
Thank you.
They're aliens, aren't they?
Yes, I think so.
The valiard's pace.
What's the time bin?
It's something to do with Lavina Travatralunda.
Oh, oh.
Oh, oh, oh, a time bit.
Oh, oh.
Is that like Harry Styles?
Sorry.