Previously on Doctor Who...
The grinding sound of the TARDIS fades, and the door creaks open. Glynnis peers out slowly, then the door opens fully as she gapes in amazement at the sight before her: the Statue of Liberty. The Doctor walks out behind her, shutting the door. “Remember where we’re parked, dear.”
On a ferry towards New York City, the Doctor is leaning on the railing, watching the water pass by. Glynnis is wandering around the deck, amazed at each new sight. We see a montage of them wandering through the streets of New York, with her continually asking questions.
“And you say this ship works with no sails?”
“A carriage, without a horse? What propels it?”
“A building so tall it scrapes the sky?”
“I can use this device to talk to someone in another building?”
“I can hear people singing! Do they live inside this tiny box?”
As she asks each question, the Doctor’s face is more and more lined with boredom. Finally, he snaps.
“My dear, these may be incredible to you, but I assure you, there is nothing here you will not see every day for the rest of your life!”
With that, a body falls from the sky.
The Doctor is consoling a shaken Glynnis, his frustration gone. As she recovers, the Doctor goes to speak with a reporter on the scene.
“It’s the stock market,” the reporter tells him. “Last week, yesterday, and now today, people have been selling like crazy. This guy lost everything.”
“Oh, my.” The Doctor looks around, Wall Street on a brisk October morning. “Black Tuesday.”
The reporter points a pen at him. “That’s a good name. Catchy. Mind if I use that?”
The Doctor returns to Glynnis. “Want to see history being made?”
They go to the NYSE trading floor, and watch the chaos. With everyone focused on the trading, no one notices the figure lurking in the shadows. Glynnis points him out to the Doctor.
“What is that, I wonder?” They follow the hooded figure, who flees when he realizes someone is paying him attention. They corner him in an alley, and he pulls out a knife.
“Easy, my friend, we’re not here to hurt you?”
A thick, guttural noise comes out. “No… hurt?”
Glynnis steps forward, and takes the knife away gently. “Of course not.”
The hood falls back to reveal a pig-like face. “Skaro... hurt!” He starts to cry, and hugs Glynnis, she looks at the Doctor in alarm, but his face is a mask of hate and determination.
As the Doctor and Glynnis process this information, a Dalek bursts through a fence, followed by three more pig-men. “Halt, humans! Slave, return to your duty.”
The pig-man flees, and the Doctor and Glynnis follow. After a tense chase, they find refuge in a warehouse.
The Doctor paces as Glynnis talks with the pig-man. “You don’t have a name?”
He shakes his head. “No… name… just… slave.”
“Well, that won’t do. What should we call him, Doctor?”
“I don’t care.”
“How can you not care? Every creature deserves a name.”
The Doctor turns on her. “Because it doesn’t matter! If the Daleks are involved, there is every possibility that we will all soon be very, very dead. Call him anything you want. Gouger, Snouter, Rooter, Tusker, it’ll be short lived if you can’t focus on something important!”
Glynnis glares at him, then turns back to the pig-man. “Those are cruel names. I don’t like them. I think we should call you… Eumaeus.”
The Doctor looks at her curiously. “Homer?”
“I haven’t always been a barmaid.”
“A thief,” the Doctor says, though he smiles as he says it. “Eumaeus. That is a good name.”
He sits on his haunches in front of him. “Eumaeus, there are Daleks here?” Eumaeus nods.
“Many?” He holds up four fingers.
“That’s not so bad,” Glynnis muses.
“That’s enough to kill every man, woman and child in the city.”
“That… is… not… plan,” Eumaeus grunts. “Make… humans… do… it.”
“The stock market? That’s a Dalek plan?” Eumaeus nods.
“Everyone poor. Everyone fight. Cult of Skaro call in more Dalek.”
“They’re weakening the potential resistance before they call in the extermination force,” the Doctor says.
“And they’ll use one of those radios, as you called it?” Glynnis asks.
“Yes, something like it, but how? That sort of technology won’t be available for years.”
Glynnis looks up, then heads to the window. “They’d need an antenna.” She raises a finger and points to the Chrysler Building.
The Doctor, Glynnis and Eumaeus are climbing to the top of the under-construction Chrysler Building. [Historical Note: The spire went up on October 23, 1929, and Black Tuesday was October 29, 1929. Coincidence? OR DALEK PLOT!?!?]
At the top, they hide, and see the four Cult of Skaro Daleks forcing pig-men to make final preparations to their devices. The Doctor goes to distract them while Glynnis and Eumaeus try to sabotage the pig-men.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to be up here. Construction permits, codes, union laws. Are you four Teamsters?”
The Daleks attack the doctor, but he manages to avoid the blasts.
Glynnis manages to wreck part of the signaling device, but the pig-men grab her. They carry her, and are about to throw her over the side, when Eumaeus charges his brethren in a rage. They drop Glynnis to the ground, and Eumaeus disappears under a flurry of punches and kicks.
The Daleks move to repair the damage to the device, and the Doctor uses his sonic cane to short out another piece of the device. As a Dalek moves to repair that, the Doctor runs to a control panel and pulls out his cane.
“The thing about a radio, Glynnis, is that it can both broadcast, and receive. There’s quite a signal about to come off of this. I wonder, then.” He flicks a switch. “How is the reception?!”
Lightning arcs down from the sky, striking the rod on top of the spire, and arcing off to strike each of the Daleks. They short-circuit, and when the energy finally dies down, they are each a charred, unrecognizable husk.
The Doctor rushes over to Glynnis. The pig-men have scattered in fear after the death of their masters, and Glynnis is cradling a severely beaten Eumaeus.
Glynnis is crying. “Help is coming! Doctor!”
Eumaeus coughs blood, he smiles a toothy grin. “No.. Eumaeus… help… Glynnis. Help… Doctor.”
Glynnis strokes his face. “You did more than that, you saved my life.”
“No. Glynnis… saved… mine.”
Eumaeus’ eyes close. The sun rises on New York City.