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DOCTOR WHO
THE POWER OF KROLL

Written by
Robert Holmes

Part One

[INT. Control room]

(We are shown a room with silver walls and desk. The people here wear grey-blue uniforms with white vests and boots. A young man stands at the desk as an older man with beard, THAWN, enters, carrying a rifle.)
FENNER: Thawn, I saw your landing. How did things go on Delta Magna?
THAWN: Oh, fine, but after a few months here, you notice how crowded it's becoming.
(FENNER takes the rifle and places it in the gun rack behind the desk. THAWN puts on the cape he carried with him into the room, then grabs the silver bag held by the green-skinned, blue-uniformed man who followed him as far as the door.)
FENNER: Want a drink?
THAWN: (to the green-skinned man) Out. (to FENNER) Er, yes, please.
(The green man exits, throwing a glare at THAWN.)
THAWN: Harg! (holds out the bag) Your Lytteker micros.
(He hands the bag to a third man, who now enters view.)
HARG: Oh, thank you, sir.
THAWN: Five hundred of them. I got you the complete library.
HARG: Magnificent. How much do I owe you?
THAWN: Oh, don't worry about that.
(A man sitting before a bank of controls groans.)
DUGEEN: Oh.
THAWN: What's the matter with you.
FENNER: I didn't offer him a drink.
DUGEEN: I'm getting an echo track on here.
FENNER: Well, try it again.
DUGEEN: (looking at his screens with their radar sweep) I've tried it, I've tried it. Look. Look at this.
(HARG has a look.)
DUGEEN: That's Thawn's track. He's about twelve miles out there, coming in now. This is where the other track starts to show, do you see?
HARG: Yes.
THAWN: What do you think it is?
DUGEEN: Well. I think you were followed down, sir, by somebody using your track as a cover.
HARG: Who would dare?
FENNER: And it's definitely another ship?
DUGEEN: Yeah.
THAWN: Where has it landed?
DUGEEN: Oh, out in the swamp somewhere.
FENNER: They split off at the last second.
DUGEEN: You see, the scanners were only set to check your approach to the pad. Any secondary plotting would have been irrelevant.
HARG: But who would risk it? There's nothing out there but a wasteland.
THAWN: Gentlemen, there is a rumour on Delta Magna that the Sons of Earth are planning to arm the Swampies.
FENNER: You know, there are times I could well do without those Sons of Earth.
HARG: Oh, but surely nobody would give arms to those savages?
THAWN: Those savages, Harg, are getting a lot of sentimental support. The company is putting a lot of effort into making a more balanced picture, but you've got to remember that most people on Delta Magna have never even seen a Swampie.
HARG: Oh, but even so, sir, it's un-
FENNER: If these Swampies were given weapons, that could well lead to them attacking the refinery.
THAWN: It could well lead to that.
DUGEEN: The Sons of Earth wouldn't be likely to arm the Swampies. They've always condemned violence.
FENNER: I don't know. There was a report a couple of days ago in the routine daily circular that Rohm-Dutt's ship had vanished from Elvedon Port and all stations have been told to watch out for him.
HARG: Rohm-Dutt? He is involved in gun-running, isn't he?
FENNER: Yes, he is involved in gun-running.
DUGEEN: (gestures to the radar screens) Do you think that's his ship out there?
FENNER: I don't know, but whoever it is, if he's making for the settlement, he's got to cross the swamps.
THAWN: In which case, he may never reach the settlement.
(THAWN fetches his rifle and heads out the door and down the corridor.)
THAWN: Those swamps can be awfully dangerous. Fenner!

[EXT. Swamp]

(The TARDIS materialises amid reeds in front of a swamp. In the marsh, only the very top of the police box is visible above the reeds. The vegetation waves about as the space-time travellers emerge.)
ROMANA [OC]: Was it absolutely necessary to land in a quagmire?
DOCTOR: Well I told you it was a bit swampy. It's not the TARDIS' fault, anyway. These marshes go on for miles. A little water doesn't hurt.
ROMANA: Try telling that to K9. He's marooned.
DOCTOR: Yes, well, we won't be here long enough to need K9. Come on.
(On higher ground, he raises and drops his left arm twice, then drops his hat with his left hand.)
DOCTOR: Gravity check. (he sits on the ground) Escape velocity about 1.5 miles a second.
ROMANA: Really? Isn't that a little low for a planet?
DOCTOR: Yes. This must be one of the moons of Delta Magna. (licks his finger and holds it in the air) I'd say the third.
ROMANA: Doctor?
DOCTOR Hmm?
ROMANA: Sometimes I don't think you're quite right in the head.
DOCTOR: Never mind about that. Just point the tracer and see where we go next.
ROMANA: Mmm, it's not a very clear reading. It's a very diffuse signal. It seems to cover about forty-two and a half degrees in that direction.
DOCTOR: Forty-two and a half degrees?
ROMANA: Hmm. I don't like the sound of that.
DOCTOR: No.
ROMANA: It either means the source is right on top of us, which it isn't...
DOCTOR: Yeah, or else the tracer's developed a fault.
ROMANA: Yes, well, perhaps the atmosphere here's affecting it. I know - I'll try the higher ground here.
DOCTOR: Yes, why don't you try the higher ground there?

[EXT. Refinery]

(FENNER and THAWN leave the building, wearing plastic jackets and gloves.)
FENNER: What's this Rohm-Dutt look like?
THAWN: Bit of a hard case. Dresses the part. Wide-brimmed hat, bandolier. We can't miss him.
FENNER: I don't intend to.

[EXT. Swamp]

(We see FENNER and THAWN cross the swamp at speed, powering past a canoe, in a hovercraft driven by a third. Their weapons are at the ready. Meanwhile, the DOCTOR selects a reed, which he fashions into a flute. He is playing Bach's 'Badinerie' as ROMANA walks toward the water with the tracer in her attempts to get an exact fix. It serves as accompaniment also as canoes move past, containing green-skinned men and one informally dressed, grizzled-looking chap. ROMANA is suddenly grabbed by one green-skinned man on either arm. The tracer falls to the ground. As the hovercraft approaches, the DOCTOR stops twiddling on his flute.)
DOCTOR: Romana? (removing his hat and standing) Romana?
THAWN: (now on dry land, with THAWN) There he is.
(FENNER shoots at the DOCTOR, who falls.)
THAWN: I think you've hit him.
(ROMANA is in a canoe behind the grizzled ROHM-DUTT. A green-skinned man squats beside the canoe.)
ROHM-DUTT: Just the one shot.
VARLIK: We're near the refinery here. Perhaps one of the dry-foots is out hunting.
ROHM-DUTT: What, that lot? They're technicians, Varlik. Technicians don't hunt. They can't use their computers. Now, come on, now. Come - we must hurry.
(The canoes paddle away while FENNER and THAWN run to the DOCTOR, who is face-down on the ground.)
FENNER: (with his gun pointed at the DOCTOR) So much for Rohm-Dutt. I never did like gun-runners.
THAWN: That's enough. That's not Rohm-Dutt.
FENNER: What do you mean it isn't Rohm-Dutt? You told me - his hat and everything.
THAWN: I tell you it is not Rohm-Dutt. You've shot the wrong man.
DOCTOR: Not quite. You shot the wrong man's hat, though. (standing with hat in hand) Fancy taking me for Rohm-Dutt.
FENNER: Who are you, then? Go on, tell us. What are you doing here?
DOCTOR: Well, a sort of survey. I've lost my friend.
FENNER: Who sent you?
DOCTOR: Something must have happened to her. Look at the way those reeds are crushed.
THAWN: The Swampies must have got her.
DOCTOR: Swampies? Are they the local tribes here?
FENNER: Yes. They've never come so near the refinery before. They're getting bolder, aren't they?
THAWN: If they jump us here, we don't stand a chance.
DOCTOR: Listen, how do I get in touch with these Swampies?
FENNER: What's that?
THAWN: You're coming with us.
DOCTOR: No, no, no, no. I'm looking for my friend. You see, she's important to me.
THAWN: I insist. There are a lot of very important questions yet to be answered.
DOCTOR: (running past them and then turning to face them) Fine. Shh. Will there be strawberry jam for tea?
(He is hurriedly led away at gunpoint.)

[EXT. Swampie settlement]

(A SWAMPIE leads ROMANA by the arm. Her hands are tied behind her back, and the SWAMPIE uses those bonds to tie her to a boulder. SWAMPIES carry long wooden boxes with lids past. ROHM-DUTT then sits next to Romana's rock.)
ROHM-DUTT: You know, there's a thing called a drill fly in these swamps. Lays its eggs in your feet. A week later, you get holes in your head.
ROMANA: How long am I going to be tied up here?
ROHM-DUTT: Well, that depends.
ROMANA: On what?
ROHM-DUTT: On whether you co-operate. If you don't, you'll rot there. Won't take long in this climate. (He chews on a piece of grass.)
ROMANA: And that doesn't bother you?
ROHM-DUTT: Young woman, I'm indifferent.
ROMANA: Emotional insulation is usually indicative of psychofugal trauma.
ROHM-DUTT: (removing the grass from his mouth and turning to her) I didn't know that. (as distant thunder rolls) Ah, I've never known such a place for rainstorms. That's why it's so wet.
ROMANA: How do I co-operate?
ROHM-DUTT: Are you with the refinery?
ROMANA: What refinery?
ROHM-DUTT: Ah. Good.
ROMANA: What's good?
ROHM-DUTT: I thought you'd lie. I happen to know they don't employ women there.
ROMANA: Look, I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't heard of any refinery or-
ROHM-DUTT: Now, there's no need to get excited. There's plenty of time to dig out the truth.
ROMANA: I am telling you the truth. Who do you think I am?
ROHM-DUTT: Did they send you here alone?
ROMANA: Nobody sent me.
ROHM-DUTT: (standing) How many are with you?
ROMANA: Just the Doctor.
ROHM-DUTT: The Doctor? And where is he?
ROMANA: Looking for me, I expect.
ROHM-DUTT: Eh. What were you doing in the swamp?
ROMANA: Catching butterflies.
ROHM-DUTT: Oh, I like a joke.
ROMANA: I'll try and think of one.
ROHM-DUTT: What were you doing in the swamp?
ROMANA: Look, you'd be none the wiser if I did tell you.
ROHM-DUTT: (placing his hand by her neck) What were you doing in the swamp?

[INT. Refinery]

(As the storm clouds approach, we are shown the refinery, standing on its stilt-like supports above the murky green waters. The DOCTOR is pushed onto the floor through the doors.)
HARG: Oh, good. You got him.
THAWN: This isn't Rohm-Dutt.
HARG: What?
FENNER: We don't know who it is. We found him in the prohibited area.
DOCTOR: (as he stands) You should put up the usual notices. Trespassers will be shot. (forced back down to his knees by a gun) Who is Rohm-Dutt?
FENNER: He's a gun-runner. Don't you know him?
DOCTOR: No. I'm new here.
THAWN: What were you doing out there?
DOCTOR: I told you - looking for my friend.
THAWN: Well, looking for a friend in a prohibited area a hundred yards from a classified project could lead you into a lot of trouble.
DOCTOR: What classified project?
FENNER: You're in the middle of it.
DOCTOR: What, this? A methane-catalysing refinery, classified?
THAWN: So you admit that you know what it is?
DOCTOR: What? Well, of... Well, of course, I know what it is. I've seen hundreds of them.
HARG: (laughing) He's crazy.
FENNER: This is a pilot plant, the first ever built.
DOCTOR: You Earth colonists are always so insular. If you'd been to Binaca-Ananda, you'd see one in every town.
THAWN: Get up! Are you claiming that you're from outside this constellation?
DOCTOR: Yes.
THAWN: And how did you get here?
DOCTOR: I have my own transport.
HARG: Ah, he is crazy.
DOCTOR: Will you stop saying that? What gives him an insight into my mental processes?
THAWN: All right, expert, what's that?
DOCTOR: That's an air vent.
THAWN: Not that, that!
DOCTOR: It's a funicular gas separator.
THAWN: And that?
DOCTOR: Hmm? Well, it looks to me like a primitive enzyme recycler, with an injection circuit feeding the bacterium bioplast. I imagine that the raw protein is centrifuged before being freeze-dried and compressed for packaging. I think you'd find it more efficient if you inserted a plasmin catalyst ahead of the bioplast circuit.
THAWN: A plasmin catalyst?
DOCTOR: Yeah, why not?
HARG: But, but that's brilliant!
FENNER: Oh, yes. That's brilliant.
THAWN: Yes.
DOCTOR: Am I free to go now?
THAWN: No.
DOCTOR: Oh.
THAWN: What were you doing out there?
DOCTOR: Right. A sort of mineralogical survey. Look, I've got to go and find my friend. (He heads for the door but is stopped.)
FENNER: I wouldn't. You see, if the Swampies have taken him to their settlement, then you'll never reach him, because those swamps are bottomless and only the Swampies know the paths.
THAWN: And you'll get a spear in your back. They've killed two of my men already.
DUGEEN [OC]: (as a chime rings) Attention. Orbit shot in ten minutes.
DOCTOR: Orbit shot?
THAWN: Right, we'll watch it from the control centre. You come with us.

[EXT. Swampie settlement]

(The SWAMPIES are gathered round, wearing chest bands and belts with loin cloths. ROHM-DUTT is opening his crate. He turns to a Swampie, RANQUIN, who is draped in a long cloth.)
ROHM-DUTT: Sixty-calibre gas-operated Stelsons.
RANQUIN: (taking the weapon and pointing it at the camera) They are old.
ROHM-DUTT: Old? No, they need cleaning, but some of these guns have never been out of their crates. They're in perfect working order.
SKART: Where are the magazines?
ROHM-DUTT: Uh, in there. Two for each gun.
SKART: And spare ammunition? (The gun is passed to the others.)
ROHM-DUTT: You have eighty magazines with fifty rounds in each. (laughs) Is there an army at the refinery?
RANQUIN: (laughing along with the other SWAMPIES, and placing his hand on ROHM-DUTT's shoulder) You are my brother, and with these weapons we will drive the dry-foots from our waters.
ROHM-DUTT: That's why the Sons of Earth sent them. Oh now, Chief, Chief, Chief, if you'd be kind enough to put your signature on this?
SKART: Signature? What is this signature?
ROHM-DUTT: Well, make your mark or anything you like. Put your seal on it.
RANQUIN: The mark of Kroll (steeples his hands) is sacred to my people.
ROHM-DUTT: Oh. Oh, that will do very nicely. It's just to say that I've, that I've made the delivery.
SKART: We do not understand your dry-foot ways.
ROHM-DUTT: I have to show them the paper back on Delta Magna.
RANQUIN: Ah, I see, my brother. The Sons of Earth do not trust you, is that it?
ROHM-DUTT: Well, it is business, Chief, you know.
RANQUIN: (to another Swampie) Skart.
(During the ensuing dialogue, SKART marks the receipt, with the end of the spear he carries.)
RANQUIN: Now, what of the dry-foot woman that you captured? Was she spying on you?
ROHM-DUTT: (taking the receipt) Oh, thank you, thank you. No, she's stubborn. She admits nothing.
SKART: Ranquin, let us offer her to the Great One. Always in the past, before our people went into battle, we made a blood sacrifice to Kroll, our protector.
RANQUIN: We will sacrifice the dry-foot woman, that we may triumph over her kin.

[INT. Refinery control room]

(The refinery's SWAMPIE serves drinks to the workers there and the DOCTOR from a tray.)
THAWN: We produce a hundred tons of compressed protein a day and then shoot it into Delta orbit every twelve hours.
FENNER: That's what makes the operation viable. If we used freighters, it wouldn't be a commercial proposition.
DOCTOR: Ah.
THAWN: Of course, the plant is fully automated. The computer controls the orbit shot, but we like to double-check.
DOCTOR: Very sensible.
FENNER: If there's a misfire, then we have a manual override system.
DOCTOR: And just the six of you here?
THAWN: No, five.
DOCTOR: Oh no, I make it six. One, two, three-
THAWN: Oh, you're counting Mensch. (laughs) He's a Swampie.
DOCTOR: Doesn't he count?
THAWN: No.
DOCTOR: Ah. Why are his friends attacking you?
THAWN: Because they're ignorant savages.
DUGEEN: They were the first on Delta Magna.
FENNER: I don't think we owe them very much for that.
DUGEEN: We took their planet. Now they're afraid we'll take what they've got left.
FENNER: You know, there are times, Dugeen, that I think the Sons of Earth have got at you.
HARG: Two minutes to shot.
DUGEEN: When we put ten full-scale refineries in here, there'll be no room for the natives, and they know it.
DOCTOR: In any case, a lake that size couldn't possibly support ten full-scale refineries.
FENNER: It can.
DOCTOR: Oh. Then you must have an alternative source of methane feedstock.
FENNER: We have calculated the methane production. We can satisfy the protein requirements of one fifth of Delta Magna.
DOCTOR: Ah. Tell me, where were your men when they were killed?
THAWN: Why do you ask?
DOCTOR: What? Oh, I don't know. Just curious.
THAWN: Out in the baygule, taking samples.
HARG: One minute to shot.
DOCTOR: What happened?
THAWN: We never found the bodies. The Swampies made quite sure of that.
DOCTOR: Then they might just have been drowned.
THAWN: They were experienced men.
DOCTOR: Well, anyone can make a mistake.
HARG: Thirty seconds to shot.
THAWN: Don't you worry about the Swampies. We'll look after them, provided they see reason.
DOCTOR: What, teach them to carry trays?
FENNER: Why not? Tell me, would you let a small band of semi-savages stand in the way of progress?
DOCTOR: Well, 'progress' is a very flexible word. It can mean just about anything you want it to mean.
DUGEEN: Ten, nine, eight-
HARG: All external doors sealed.
DUGEEN: Seven, six, five-
(The men have donned their headsets and are paying attention to the orbit shot. The DOCTOR takes this opportunity to exit.)
DUGEEN: Four...

[EXT. Swampie settlement]

(It is a night of drumbeats and dancing. The SWAMPIES dance before an archway. On either side of the base is an almond-shaped shield bearing a stylised face.)
SWAMPIES: Kroll! Kroll! Kroll!
(SKART leads ROMANA past ROHM-DUTT and VARLIK, who are beside a tipi made with marsh grasses.)
SWAMPIES: Kroll! Kroll!...
ROMANA: I suppose you're enjoying this.
ROHM-DUTT: Makes no odds to me. I'm going back to Delta Magna. Any last messages?
SWAMPIES: (as ROMANA is led forward) Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll!
RANQUIN: All is ready in the Temple of Kroll.
SKART: The offering is prepared.
(ROMANA is led forward further.)
SWAMPIES: Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll!
(The orbit shot forms a streak against the night sky. It is audible also, and the chanting pauses.)
VARLIK: (to ROHM-DUTT) Soon we will put a stop to that.
RANQUIN: (standing in front of the others, in front of the arch) Open the pit! (the drumbeat changes) Let Kroll come from the bottomless deep! (raises his arms) Kroll, hear thy people.
SWAMPIES: Great Kroll!
RANQUIN: Kroll, we summon thee!
SWAMPIES: Mighty Kroll!
RANQUIN: Kroll, we offer this life in tribute to thy greatness.
SWAMPIES: Great Kroll!
RANQUIN: Guide and protect us, All-Powerful One, in the great struggle which lies ahead.
SWAMPIES: (as the old drumbeat and chant rhythm resume) Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll!
(We see the waters moving. Is Kroll awakening, or is it just the storm?)

[INT. Pump room]

(The DOCTOR enters and looks around. He pulls a large torch from a shelf and tests it, then puts it back. He finds the outer door locked so performs some bypassing or sabotage on the control box above it. Hearing someone approach, he secretes himself in the corner on the other side of the room.)
DOCTOR: (stepping 'into' the room once THAWN and MENSCH have entered) Hello.
THAWN: I wondered where you were.
DOCTOR: Well, if you've seen one orbit shot, you've seen them all.
SWAMPIES [OC]: Kroll! Kroll!...
THAWN: It's coming from the settlement.
DOCTOR: Are they having a dance?
MENSCH: My people are calling Kroll. They're making a blood sacrifice.
DOCTOR: Who's Kroll?
THAWN: Oh, it's their name for a giant squid. Centuries ago, when we resettled the Swampies from Delta Magna, we shipped along a couple of specimens just to keep them happy.
DOCTOR: Yeah, but just the same, a blood sacrifice. I don't like the sound of that.
THAWN: Don't be stupid. You'll never cross those swamps on your own.
DOCTOR: What? Look, I have a shrewd idea who it is that might be being sacrificed, and Romana's not the easiest of guests.
THAWN: It'll be light in one hour, so we'll take a swamp glider and go in force.
DOCTOR: There's no need for you to be involved.
THAWN: You heard Mensch. If they're sacrificing, they're preparing for war, and that means that Rohm-Dutt has got through with the guns. We've got gas mortars, so we could knock out that settlement in a couple of minutes. Now that we know they're armed, we can prove that we were acting in self-defence. Let's go.
SWAMPIES [OC]: Kroll! Kroll!...
THAWN: (stopping MENSCH) Not you!

[EXT. Settlement]

SWAMPIES: (while ROHM-DUTT chews on his grass) Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll!

[INT. Pump room]

(MENSCH climbs the ladder above which the Doctor had found the torch, and he takes the torch with him as he moves aside the ventilation grating and leaves the building. The DOCTOR reaches the room in time to see most of this.)
SWAMPIES [OC]: Kroll! Kroll!...
(The DOCTOR opts for the outer door as his chosen means of exit.)

[EXT. Swamp]

(A Morse-code-style signal flashes from the refinery superstructure. We then see the DOCTOR paddling a canoe toward the chanting.)
SWAMPIES [OC]: Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll!

[EXT. Settlement]

SWAMPIES: Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll!
(Nothing is coming out of the pit in front of ROMANA, and she is getting antsy.)
ROMANA: It's all nonsense. Primitive spirit worship.
(VARLIK sends reply flashes to Mensch and walks off. The DOCTOR's canoe arrives shortly after this, and he walks through the tall grasses toward the settlement.)
SWAMPIES: Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll! Kroll!...
(The DOCTOR follows VARLIK to the settlement.)
RANQUIN: Kroll rises from the depths!
(The chant changes tempo, and the running-in-place-style dancing. RANQUIN kneels. The gates in the arch close. Now ROMANA cannot be seen. But something knows she is there. Claws reach for her, and she screams as RANQUIN raises his head to the skies.)

The above notes, transcription, etc. by Anna Shefl

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