DOCTOR: Whatever you want with me, fine. But save my friends. Don't let the Cybermen take them. If the history between us means anything to you...

MASTER: I do believe you're appealing to my better nature. And we both know I don't have one. I'm not going to help them, and neither are you. And the history between us does mean something. It's the rage and pain in my hearts.

DOCTOR: When does all this stop for you? The games, the betrayals, the killing?

MASTER: Why would it stop? I mean, how else would I get your attention?

JERRICHO: Recently, the Zone has become reactivated. Somehow, it is draining energy from the Eye of Harmony.

FLAVIA: To an extent which endangers all Gallifrey.

BORUSA: We must know what is happening there.

MASTER: Did it occur to you to go and look?

BORUSA: Two of the High Council went into the Zone. Neither returned.

MASTER: So you sent for the Doctor?

JERRICHO: We looked for the Doctor, but he no longer exists. Not in any of his regenerations.

BORUSA: The Doctor has been taken out of time.

JERRICHO: We believe the attempt to lift him from his time stream was unsuccessful. There he must stay until we can find and free his other selves.

MASTER: And if you cannot? The cosmos without the Doctor scarcely bears thinking about.

BRIGADIER: Let me tell you, sir, that I'm in full possession of all my faculties. After all, if I was suffering from amnesia, I'd be the first to know about it, wouldn't I?

BRIGADIER: Oh, I know how many beans make five, Doctor, and you don't have to be a Time Lord to cope with A level maths. It may come as a surprise to you, but I also happen to like teaching.

BRIGADIER: Yes. You know, just once I'd like to meet an alien menace that wasn't immune to bullets.

BRIGADIER: I'm delighted to hear it. Make yourself at home. We're only supposed to be a top secret security establishment. Liberty Hall, Doctor Tyler. Liberty Hall.

(The Brigadier leaves.)

SECOND DOCTOR: If only I could find my recorder, I could play you a little something to pass the time.

BRIGADIER: We must be thankful for small mercies.

BRIGADIER: You know, if this got out, you'd be the laughing stock of UNIT. A dream. Really, Doctor, you'll be consulting the entrails of a sheep next.

YATES: Fancy a dance, Brigadier?

BRIGADIER: It's kind of you, Captain Yates. I think I'd rather have a pint.

(The telephone has woken the Brigadier, who is still in bed.)

BRIGADIER: The Doctor's gone? Gone where? Well, you should know, Corporal. I want to talk to him. What? Oh, all right then, wake up Miss Grant. I see. And I suppose she didn't leave a number either? I suppose it wouldn't do any good to ask for Captain Yates or Sergeant Benton? My helicopter? Where to? Devil's End. Yes, yes, I see. Get my car here right away. Yes, and if they do contact you, tell them to stay put.

BRIGADIER: Nonsense. What you need, Doctor, as Miss Shaw herself so often remarked, is someone to pass you your test tubes and to tell you how brilliant you are. Miss Grant will fulfil that function admirably.

MASTER: I hope I'm not interrupting anything important.

DOCTOR: No, no, indeed not. You've come here to kill me, of course.

MASTER: But not without considerable regret.

DOCTOR: How very comforting.

MASTER: You see, Doctor, you're my intellectual equal. Almost. I have so few worth opponents. When they've gone, I always miss them.

DOCTOR: How did you get in here?

MASTER: Oh, don't be trivial, Doctor. I see you've been working on the Nestene autojet. My own small contribution to their invasion plan.

DOCTOR: Vicious, complicated and inefficient. Typical of your way of thinking.

MASTER: Now, come, come, Doctor. Death is always more frightening when it strikes invisibly.