How are we looking? Oh... about ready, I think.
Any thoughts on the, er, interference?
Erm, a stray FM broadcast, possibly?
But I've fitted some ferrite suppressors
and some RF chokes. Just in case.
Are you sure you want to go through with this?
I mean, the last time was very... But she's so lonely.
Excellent, then.
Excellent.
Caliburn House, night four, November 25th, 1974.
11.04pm.
I'm talking to the spirit that inhabits this house.
Are you there? Can you hear me?
I'm speaking to the lost soul that abides in this place.
Come to me. Speak to me.
Let me show you the way home.
Oh, ah!
Let me show you the way home!
Ah!
Emma?
She's so...
So what?
Dead.
Boo!
Hello, I'm looking for a ghost.
And you are...?
Ghostbusters!
Subtitles by MemoryOnSmells http://UKsubtitles.ru.
I'm the Doctor. Doctor what?
If you like. And this is Clara.
Ah, but you are very different!
You are Major Alec Palmer.
Member of the Baker Street Irregulars,
the Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare.
Specialised in espionage,
sabotage and reconnaissance behind enemy lines.
You're a talented watercolourist, professor of psychology
AND... ghost hunter!
Total pleasure. Massive.
Actually, you're wrong.
Professor Palmer spent most of the war as a POW.
Actually, that's a lie told by a very brave man
involved in very secret operations.
The kind of man who keeps a Victoria Cross in a box in the attic, eh?
But you know that! Because you're Emma Grayling...
the Professor's companion... Assistant.
It's 1974 - you're the assistant and "non-objective equipment".
Meaning "psychic". Getting that. Bless you, though.
Relax, Emma. He's Military Intelligence.
So what's all this in aid of? Health and safety!
Yeah, the Ministry got wind of what's going on down here.
Sent me to check that everything's in order.
They don't have the right.
Don't worry, Guv'nor, I'll be out your hair in five minutes. Oh!
Oh, look! Oh, lovely. The ACR 99821.
Oh, bliss, nice action on the toggle switches.
You know, I do love a toggle switch.
Actually, I like the word "toggle".
Nice noun. Excellent verb.
Oi, don't mess with the settings.
What's that?
Gadget. Health and safety. Classified, I'm afraid.
You know, while the back room boffins work out a few kinks.
What's it telling you?
It's telling me that you haven't been exposed
to any life-threatening transmundane emanations.
So...
where's the ghost?
Show me the ghost.
It's ghost time.
I won't have this stolen out from under me, do you understand?
Erm, no, not really, sorry.
I will not have my work stolen,
then be fobbed off with a pat on the back and a letter from the Queen.
Never again! This is my house, Doctor, and it belongs to me.
This is actually your house? It is.
Sorry.
You went to the bank and said,
"You know that gigantic old haunted house on the moors?
"The one the dossers are too scared to doss in?
"The one the birds are too scared to fly over?"
And then you said, "I'd like to buy it, please, with my money."
Yes, I did, actually.
That's incredibly brave.
Listen, Major, we just need to know what's going on here.
For the Ministry? You know I can't answer that.
Very well...
follow me.
So what's an empathic psychic?
Sometimes I... sense feelings. The way a telepath can sense thoughts.
Sometimes, though. Not always.
The most compassionate people you'll ever meet, empathics.
And the loneliest.
I mean, exposing themselves to all those hidden feelings -
all that guilt, pain and sorrow and...
Doctor? Yes?
Shh.
Would you, er, care to have a look?
Caliburn House is over 400 years old
but she's been here much longer...
the Caliburn Ghast.
She's mentioned in local Saxon poetry and Parish folk tales.
The Wraith of the Lady, the Maiden in the Dark...
the Witch of the Well.
Is she real? As in, actually real?
Oh, she's real.
In the 17th century, a local clergyman saw her.
He wrote that her presence was accompanied
by a, "dreadful knocking, as if the Devil himself demanded entry."
During the war, American airmen stationed here
left offerings of tinned Spam.
The tins were found in 1965, bricked up in the servants' pantry,
along with a number of handwritten notes.
Appeals to the Ghast...
"For the love of God, stop screaming."
She never changes.
The angle's different, the framing,
but she's always in exactly the same position. Why is that?
We don't know.
She's an objective phenomenon.
But objective recording equipment can't detect her...
Without the presence of a powerful psychic.
Absolutely. Very well done.
She knows I'm here...
I can feel her...
calling out to me.
What's she saying?
"Help me."
"The Witch of the Well".
So where's the well?
A copy of the oldest plan that we could find,
there is no well on the property. None that we could find, anyway.
You coming? Where? To find the ghost.
Why would I want to do that? Because you want to, come on.
Well, I dispute that assertion.
I'm giving you a face.
Can you see me? Look at my face.
Fine.
Dare me.
I dare you. No takesies-backsies.
Ha-ha-ha-ha!
The Music Room is the heart of the house.
Say we actually find her. What do we say?
We ask how she came to be...
whatever she is.
Why? Because I don't know.
And ignorance is...
what's the opposite of bliss?
Carlisle. Yes! Yes, Carlisle. Ignorance is Carlisle.
Is he really from the Ministry?
Er, I don't know.
He's certainly got the right demeanour.
Capricious... brilliant.
Deceitful.
Yes! Ha... he's a liar...
but, you know, that's often the way that it is...
when someone's... seen a thing or two.
Experience makes liars of us all.
We lie about who we are...
about what we've done...
And how we feel?
Yes... always,
always that.
You know, I have to... have to be getting on with things
The, erm, the equipment and so forth.
Of course.
Ah, the Music Room. The heart of the house.
Do you feel anything?
No.
Your pants are so on fire.
Do you feel like you're being watched?
What does being watched feel like?
Is it that funny tickly feeling on your neck?
That's the chap. Then, yes, a bit.
Well, quite a big bit.
I think she's here.
Cold spot. Spooky.
Cold... warm.
Cold... warm... cold... warm...
cold... warm... cold.
Doctor?
Doctor! What?
I'm not happy.
No.
Hey!
What was that?
Does it seems colder?
She's coming.
OK, what is that?
It's a very loud noise.
It's a very loud, very angry noise.
But what's making it?! I don't know. Are you making it?
Doctor? Yes?
I may be a teeny, tiny bit terrified. Yes?
But I'm still a grown-up. Mainly, yes, and...?
There's no need to actually hold my hand.
Clara? Yes?
I'm not holding your hand.
Has this happened before? Never!
Camera! Camera!
Doctor?!
'Help me!'
Doctor.
Ugh!
I'd rather have a nice cup of tea.
Me too.
Whisky's the 11th most disgusting thing ever invented.
I had a little peek at your records, back at the Ministry.
You've certainly seen a thing or two in your time -
disrupting U-Boat operations across the North Sea,
sabotaging railway lines across Europe,
Operation Gibbon, the one with the carrier pigeons - brilliant!
I do love a carrier pigeon.
I did my duty but then so did thousands of others -
MILLIONS of others...
I was just luck enough to come back.
Yes but, how does that man, that war hero end up here,
in a lonely old house, looking for ghosts?
Because I killed...
and I caused to have killed...
I sent young men and women to their deaths...
but here I am, still alive, and...
it does tend to haunt you. Living, after so much of...
the other thing.
So, you and Professor Palmer, have you ever... y'know?
No.
Why not? You do know how he feels about you, don't you?
You of all people?
I don't know.
People like me... sometimes, we get our signals mixed up.
We think people are feeling the way we want them to feel...
you know, when they are special to us.
When, really, there's nothing there.
Oh, this is there.
How do you know? Because it's obvious.
It sticks out like a... big chin.
See, I was alone and unmarried and...
I didn't mind dying. I mean, not for that cause.
It was a very, very fine cause...
defeating the enemy.
And if you could contact them, what would you say?
Well, I'd very much like to thank them. Uh-huh.
Ping!
What do you think she is?
Not what I thought she'd be. What did you think she'd be? Fun.
Can I borrow your camera?
Ta.
What about you... and the Doctor?
Oh, I don't think so.
Good. Sorry?
Don't trust him...
there's a sliver of ice in his heart.
'Clara!'
I've got this weird feeling it's looking at me.
It doesn't like me.
The TARDIS is like a cat -
a bit slow to trust but you'll get there in the end.
Hey!
You need a place to keep this.
I've got one.
Or I had one...
I think I had one.
Look around, see if you find it.
Did I have one?
Am I going mad?
No, not in here!
How do you expect her to like you?
She's SOAKING wet! It's a health and safety nightmare.
Sorry.
So... where we going?
Nowhere. We're staying right here.
Right here, on this exact spot - if I can work out how to do it.
So, when are we going?
Oh, that is good. That is top-notch.
And the answer is...?
We're going always. "We're going always."
TOTALLY! That's not actually a sentence.
Well, it's got a verb in it. What do you think?
Colour's a bit boisterous. I think it brings out my eyes.
Makes my eyes hurt.
Did you see where he went?
I could hear an engine but I can't see any lights.
Back off! Hot suit! Hot, hot, hot!
When are we?
About six billion years ago. It's a Tuesday, I think.
Back in a mo.
Are you all right?
Totally. Peachy keen.
OK, then. Well, don't press any buttons or pull any levers,
or make any funny faces.
Actually, don't move. Stand completely still.
Don't breathe. Well, you can breathe...
but shallow breaths.
What's wrong?
Did the TARDIS say something to you? Are you being mean?
No, it's not that.
Have we just watched the entire life cycle of the Earth? Birth to death?
Yes!
And you're OK with that?
Yes.
How can you be?
The TARDIS. She's... time.
We... Wibbly vortex and so on.
That's not what I mean. OK...
some help? Context?
Cheat sheet?
Something? I mean, one minute you're in 1974, looking for ghosts
but all you have to do is open your eyes
and talk to whoever's standing there.
To you, I haven't been born yet...
and to you, I've been dead 100 billion years.
Is my body out there somewhere? In the ground?
Yes, I suppose it is.
But here we are, talking. So I am a ghost.
To you, I'm a ghost...
we're all ghosts to you.
We must be nothing.
No... no...
you're not that.
Then what are we? What can we possibly be?
You are the only mystery worth solving.
What's wrong?
I just saw something I wish I hadn't.
What did you see?
That... everything ends.
No, not everything. Not love...
not always.
Right! Done! That's it, gather round, gather round.
Roll up! Roll up!
The Ghast of Caliburn House -
never changing, trapped in a moment of fear and torment
but what if she's not?
What if she's just trapped somewhere time runs more slowly
than it does here?
What if a second to her was 100,000 years to us?
And what if somebody has a magic box - a blue box, probably -
what if said somebody could take a snapshot of her,
say, every few million years?
She's not a ghost...
but she's definitely a lost soul.
Her name's Hila Tacorian.
She's a pioneer, a time traveller -
or at least she will be, in a few hundred years.
Time travel's not possible. The paradoxes...
Resolve themselves, by and large.
How long has she been alone?
Well, time travel's a funny old thing.
I mean, from her perspective, she crash landed... three minutes ago.
Crash landed? Where?
She's in a pocket universe...
a distorted echo of our own -
they happen sometimes but never last for long.
Our universe - Hila Tacorian's here.
In a pocket universe.
You're a lantern, shining across the dimensions, guiding her home.
Back to the land of the living.
But what's she running from?
Well, that's the best bit. We don't know yet. Shall we see?
Oh.
What is that?
I don't know.
Still! Not to worry!
So, what do we do?
Not "we", you...
you save Hila Tacorian because you're Emma Grayling.
You are the lantern -
the rest of us are just along for the ride, I'm afraid.
We need some sturdy rope and a blue crystal from Metebelis Three.
Plus, some Kendal Mint Cake.
Don't do it.
I'm sorry? Nobody asked her to risk her life. This woman.
She doesn't deserve...
Whoever she is - however brilliant, however brave, she's not you.
She's not worth risking a single hair on your head. Not to me!
Tell me what I'm thinking.
I can't...
I don't have your gift.
You don't need it...
just look at me and tell me.
There you are, you read my mind.
Can't you just... y'know? What?
Fly the TARDIS into the parallel universe?
Ah, it's not a parallel universe. It's a POCKET universe.
Plus, it is collapsing.
I mean, the TARDIS could get in there, all right,
but entropy would bleed her power sources, you see?
Trap her there until the entire universe decayed
back into the quantum foam.
Which would take about three minutes, give or take, you know.
What is that? A subset of the Eye of Harmony.
I don't... Of course you don't.
Be weird if you did, I barely do myself. Right, you, sit down.
All the way... from Metebelis Three.
What does it do?
It amplifies your natural abilities - like a microphone.
Or a pooper-scooper!
What exactly is this arrangement?
A psychochronograph.
Forgive me, but isn't it all a bit, well... make-do and mend?
Non-psychic technology won't work where I'm going.
All I need to do is dive into another dimension,
find the traveller, help her escape the monster,
get home before the entire dimension collapses and Bob's your uncle.
Doctor?
Will it hurt?
No.
Well, yes. Probably. A bit. Well, quite a lot.
I don't know. It might be agony.
To be perfectly honest, I'll be interested to find out.
I'm talking to the lost soul that abides in this place.
I'm speaking to Hila Tacorian.
See? The Witch of the Well! It's a wormhole!
A reality well! A door to the echo universe. Ready?
READY!
Geronimo.
Wah...
Whoa...
Doctor!
Whoa!
Hila!
Hila Tacorian!
One...
two...
three!
'Help me!
'Help!'
Ah! Hila Tacorian, I presume.
Who are you?
Collapsing universe. You and me, dead, two minutes.
No time, complete sentences - abandon planet! Wait!
There's something in the mist.
Then run! Run!
'Doctor, Doctor!
'Come home.'
'Doctor, come home!'
Not that way. Which means...
probably...
What's wrong? You know that exit I mentioned? Yes?
I seem to have misplaced it.
'Doctor!'
This way!
DOCTOR... come home!
'Doctor, we're here!' Whoa! What's that?
An echo house, in an echo universe.
Clever psychic, that is just top-notch.
Doctor!
It's looking for a way in.
I'm not strong enough!
Just a few more seconds!
Grab the rope, give it three tugs! Quick as you like!
What about you? I'll be next.
Ah!
Oh, that's what that noise was! Lovely.
No!
Oh, dear.
Oh... dear.
Where are you?
Wake up! WAKE UP! Open the thing!
I'm sorry. Don't be sorry. Don't be. What you did...
Wasn't enough, she needs to do it again. She can't.
Look at her. She HAS to!
We can't leave him.
I know you feel that you can't do this, Emma, but...
look at that woman over there. You saved her.
She's only here because of your strength and so am I.
Oh, come ON!
Let me in, you grumpy old cow!
Whoa!
I was as lost as her...
but being with you...
you give me a reason to be, Emma.
You brought me back from the dead.
What's this now? The TARDIS Voice Visual Interface.
I'm programmed to select the image of a person you esteem.
Of several billion such images in my databanks,
this one best meets the criterion. Oh, you are a cow. I knew it!
Whatever. You have to help the Doctor.
The Doctor is in the pocket universe.
You can enter the pocket universe.
The entropy would drain the energy from my heart.
In four seconds, I'd be stranded. In ten, I'd be dead.
You're talking but all I hear is, "Meh, meh, meh."
Come on, let's go!
Hey, hey, hey!
Doctor?
Can you hear me?
DOCTOR?!
Oh, come ON!
Doctor? Can you hear me?
Ah! Whoa! WAH!
Doctor...
'Doctor, we're here. Come home!'
Emma?
What do you want?
To frighten me, I suppose, eh?
Because that's what you do. You hide...
you're the bogeyman under the bed. Seeking whom you may devour.
Ah! Ah.
You want me to be afraid? Then well done.
I am the Doctor... and I am afraid!
'Wah!'
Oh, oh! Whoa!
Doctor... hurry!
So why am I still here, huh?
Why not just... eat me?
Huh?
Come on.
Because you still need me!
Yeah, you need me to piggyback you across.
To which I say...
come on then, big boy...
chase me.
Ah!
'Woo-hoo! Woo!'
Ha-ha!
Woo-hoo!
'Woo!'
Ah! Oh!
You wanted a word?
Well, if that's... That's fine.
You didn't come here for the ghost, did you?
No. You came here for me.
Yes. Why?
I needed to ask you something. Then ask. Clara...
Yes?
What is she? She's a girl.
Yes, but what kind of girl? Specifically.
She's a perfectly ordinary girl.
Very pretty... Hm. ..very clever... Hm.
More scared than she let's on.
And that's it, is it?
Why? Is that not enough?
Where will you go?
He can't take me home. History says I went missing.
He can change history? No, no, no, I can't, actually.
There are fixed points in time you see... Hi. What?
I knew you were there...
I could feel you.
I know...
Have we...? We can't have.
You haven't even been born yet.
No, you can't have met but she can be your great, great, great, great,
great-granddaughter.
Yours too, of course! But you'd guessed that already, hadn't you?
Oh...
apparently not.
The paradoxes... Resolve themselves, by and large.
That's why the psychic link was so powerful -
blood calling to blood.
Out of time. Not everything ends, eh?
Not love. Not always.
Doctor, what about, what about... us?
Emma and me?
What about you? Well, what's supposed to happen?
I mean, what do we do now?
Hold hands...
that's what you're meant to do. Keep doing that and don't let go.
That's the secret.
'Doctor!'
'I'm not happy.'
Yeah, you need me to piggyback you across!
I'm not holding your hand.
I'm so... slow!
I am slow, I'm notorious for it, that's always been my problem,
but I get there in the end. Oh, yes. Doctor? How do sharks make babies?
Carefully?
No, no, no - happily!
Sharks don't actually smile. They're just...
Well, they've got lots and lots of teeth - they're quite eaty. Exactly!
But birds do it, bees do it - even educated FLEAS do it.
Every lonely monster needs a companion.
There's two of them?!
It's the oldest story in the universe - this one, or any other.
Boy and girl fall in love, get separated by events -
war, politics, accidents in time.
She's thrown out of the HEX, or he's thrown into it.
Since then they've been yearning for each other across time and space -
across dimensions - this isn't a ghost story,
it's a... love story!
Sorry.
Excuse me! Excuse me! Sorry to interrupt the rest of your life.
So...
tiny favour to ask...
I'm sorry! I understand now!
I can take you to her!
I can take you to a safe place far away from here!
You can be together!
Well, come on then! She's WAITING!
Well, hello again, you old Romeo, you!
Now... here she comes.
'Ha-ha! Woo!'
Ah!
'Woo!'
Get ready to jump.
Subtitles by MemoryOnSmells http://UKsubtitles.ru.
You're running away with a spaceman in a box,
anything could happen to you.
It's good salvage... I can smell it.
Clara, where is she.
She's still on board.
If you help me get her out, you get the machine,
the salvage of a lifetime.
Multiple life forms onboard the TARDIS. What do you keep in here?
What are you, eh? A trick, a trap?!
We do what we came for. Tear this ship apart.
If we're going to die here, you're going to tell me what they are.
I can't!
Where are we going?
The centre of the TARDIS.