5th Doctor Story - Fallen Angels, by Phil Mulryne

A Big Finish Productions Classic Doctors New Monsters Audio Drama, released 28 July 2016

(A big wooden door gives way.)

JOEL: Right, we're in. Come on.
GABY: I don't know about this, Joel.
JOEL: Look, no one's around. Tourists have all gone. Come on.
GABY: Exactly! We shouldn't be here. Breaking into churches? By and large frowned upon.
JOEL: We just need to check if the statue's there.
GABY: I'd rather not end our honeymoon in prison. I didn't google Rome's top prison cells.
JOEL: Gaby, it is fine. You can wait outside.
GABY: (sighs) All that I have I share with you. Probably extends to jail time, too.
(They kiss.)
JOEL: Thank you.
GABY: So, what does it look like?
JOEL: A statue of Moses, seated, big beard. Michelangelo said it was the most life-like thing he'd ever
sculpted.
GABY: Yeah?
JOEL: When he'd finished, He struck its knee with his hammer, boom, and said, now speak.
GABY: Cute. And if it's here, there's nothing to worry about?
JOEL: I don't know. You saw what I saw.
GABY: The strange man with the trousers and the cricket jumper?
JOEL: No, the roof of the Sistine Chapel.
GABY: Oh, yeah. Joel, up ahead. Candlelight.
JOEL: Perfect. No need for that stupid torch app. The i-Give-up or whatever it's called.
GABY: Luddite.
JOEL: Ah, the tomb of Pope Julius. At least now we'll be able to. No!
GABY: Joel?
JOEL: It's not here!
GABY: What'd you mean? That's a statue, isn't it?
JOEL: But that's not Moses. That, that's just some angel.
GABY: And a shy one at that. Hands over its face, like it's crying.
PRIEST: Señor, señora. The church is now closed.
JOEL: Oh, ah, yeah. Sorry, sorry. Silly us. I thought it was a bit dark in here.
PRIEST: You are gazing on the angel, of course. It is beautiful, is it not?
JOEL: Er, it's all right. (sotto) It's no Michelangelo.
PRIEST: The most beautiful thing in all the world.
GABY: Well, Joel tells me art can move people. It's pictures of planetary nebulae that really get me.
But we really should be going.
PRIEST: You note the emblem on my robes? I am of the Order of Three Angels.
JOEL: Okay. Er, so where is the statue of Moses?
PRIEST: Please. Gaze once more upon the angel.
JOEL: Look, er, when you've seen one angel you've seen Whoa!
GABY: Weren't both its hands covering its face?
PRIEST: It points at you, yes. You are chosen.
GABY: Excuse me?
PRIEST: And so we must rest with the Angel, in the dark.
JOEL: What?
PRIEST: We keep these three candles burning until the choosing is made. After that, we have no
need of light. (blows one out.)
GABY: Wait. What are you doing?
JOEL: Gaby, the statue. Look.
GABY: I don't believe it. Both arms.
PRIEST: It is 'hungry for you. yes? It reaches out, (blows out another candle.)
JOEL: Hungry? What'd you mean?
GABY: Joel!
JOEL: It stepped forward! I swear it.
PRIEST: And now, it must feed.
GABY: No!
(Sounds of struggling.)
PRIEST: How dare you! You are chosen.
GABY: Joel! Help me! We can't let him blow out the last
JOEL: The candlestick, look out!
(Clatter, thud.)
PRIEST: That will work just the same.
JOEL: Gaby! Gaby, where are you?
GABY: Here. I'm here. I'm scared, Joel. It's okay. I'm okay.
JOEL: The angel, I can't see it.
GABY: I can't see anything. Let me get my phone.
JOEL: Gaby, I think it's coming.
GABY: Joel?
JOEL: I love you.
GABY: Joel!
PRIEST: You have embraced the lovers. You are fed. And I remain your servant. I am honoured to
serve the Angels.(laughs)

DOCTOR: Well done, old girl. Now, let's see. Rome, 1511, so you say. But let's just glance outside,
shall we? Humans, that's good. Clothing from the correct date, architecture looks right. Oh, that must
be Saint Peter's Basilica just going up. Exactly the right spot, except, who's that? Wrong clothes for
sixteenth century Italy, and attracting some unwelcome attention.

(Amidst a mob.)
GABY: Give me some space!
MAN: Appeared from nowhere, I tell you.
MAN 2: A miracle!
GABY: I'm calling the police. One one three in Italy, right?
(Dials, gets failed call tones.)
GABY: Oh damn, it won't connect.

DOCTOR: You won't get a signal in 1511, I'm afraid, and even if you could, well, think of the roaming
charges.

MAN: What is it the saint carries?

MAN 2: A gospel. It glows with light.
GABY: Oh, useless thing. Hey! Back off!
MAN: She's rude for a saint.
MAN 3: Maybe she's a witch.
MAN: What is this tablet that glows? What is that?
GABY: It's not a tablet, just a mobile.
MAN 3: Maybe she's French spy.
MAN 2: An enemy of the Pope.
MAN 3: We should seize her.
GABY: Ah! Get off!
MAN: Give me that.

DOCTOR: Oh dear. I suppose I'd better. Hat. Door. Rescue!

GABY: Get off!

MAN: Hold her!
MAN 2: Bring her to the Cardinals!
DOCTOR: Ah, hello!
MAN: Eh? Who's that?
DOCTOR: There you are. Excellent.
MAN: His clothes are stranger than hers.
GABY: It's you!
DOCTOR: Gentlemen, I am much obliged. I've been looking everywhere. Come along now, er
GABY: Gaby.
DOCTOR: Gaby, yes.
MAN 2: What, you know this French spy, sir?
DOCTOR: A French spy? No, no, no, she's a traveller. We're both travellers. We've just arrived in
Rome.
GABY: I'm English.
DOCTOR: There you go, English. From er, England. And I'm from er, well, here and there. I really
thought we'd lost er
GABY: Gaby.
DOCTOR: I'm so grateful you found her. Oh, look over there. Is that Pope Julius?
MAN: What? Where?
MAN 2: Let me see.
DOCTOR: Now, Gaby, run.
MAN: The Pope, where is he?
MAN 2: Hey, hey, where did the saint go?
(Groans.)

(Breathless.)
DOCTOR: I think we lost them. I really would put that mobile away. It does rather stand out in
sixteenth century Italy.
GABY: Are you behind all this?
DOCTOR: All what?
GABY: This. The people, the scenery, that donkey. It's some kind of film set?
DOCTOR: I'm sorry, I should introduce myself. I'm the
GABY: Doctor.
DOCTOR: Yes.
GABY: We met in the Sistine Chapel, remember?
DOCTOR: We did?
GABY: It's very good. This street's filthy. Is it a stunt? Are there hidden cameras somewhere?
DOCTOR: Only the eight mega-pixels on your phone. Look this may come as a shock, Gaby, but it's
not the twenty first century, it's 1511.
GABY: Nonsense.
DOCTOR: So you clearly didn't plan on being here. What happened?
GABY: Well er, oh, I can't even remember arriving.
DOCTOR: Well, now that is bad.
GABY: Is it?
DOCTOR: People can't go skipping out of their own time zones willy-nilly, unless they're with me, of
course. You really can't remember?
GABY: Well, I. Joel. Where's Joel?
DOCTOR: Joel?
GABY: My fiancé. Husband. We're on our honeymoon. We met you in the Sistine, then, I can't
remember.
DOCTOR: TCDD.
GABY: What?
DOCTOR: Temporary Chronological Displacement Disorientation. Can be nasty if you time travel
without a capsule.
GABY: Time travel?
DOCTOR: If you and Joel travelled together, once we reunite you I expect all the neurons will pop
back into place. Shall we? There's no time to lose.
GABY: He's mad. Must be. Hey, wait!

(Hammering on stone.)
MICHELANGELO: Are you going to stand there all day?
PRIEST: Señor Buonarroti, your skill is captivating. To watch the image begin to appear from the
block like a figure rising from a basin of water. Magnificent.
MICHELANGELO: Well, Señor Priest, I will admit your choice of block for this figure was perfect.
(drinks) Every block of marble has a figure inside, placed there by God. My task as sculptor is to set it
free.
PRIEST: And when will it be finished?
MICHELANGELO: I beg your pardon?
PRIEST: When might my Order take delivery of the statue?
MICHELANGELO: Are you asking me to hurry my work, Señor Priest?
PRIEST: No, Señor Buonarroti, I only wish to know
MICHELANGELO: I am Michelangelo Buonarroti, not some second-rate artisan.
PRIEST: Señor, I understand, but
MICHELANGELO: I am an artist. I did not rush my work on the vault of the Sistine even for His
Holiness the Pope.
PRIEST: Señor, I only wish
MICHELANGELO: If speed is all you require, perhaps someone else should complete your
commission.
PRIEST: Señor.
MICHELANGELO: I've done. Ach. I must return to my work on the Sistine in any case.
PRIEST: But this statue must take precedence.
MICHELANGELO: Must, Señor? Must?
PRIEST: Señor, let us speak reasonably.
(A cry, whoosh and thud.)
JOEL: Oo er. Where?
MICHELANGELO: God have mercy. How did you get into my work yard?
JOEL: Your work yard?
MICHELANGELO: My work yard. You stand in Michelangelo Buonarroti's work yard. Who let you in?
Piero? I'll tan that boy's hide.
JOEL: M-M-Michelangelo?
MICHELANGELO: You're deaf? Yes, Michelangelo.
JOEL: You are Michelangelo. The Michelangelo.
MICHELANGELO: You have heard of me?
JOEL: The greatest artist who ever lived? Of course I've heard of Michelangelo. I adore Michelangelo.
MICHELANGELO: Ah. Well, someone who values me aright at last. What's your name, boy?
JOEL: I er, Joel.
MICHELANGELO: Joel? An Israelite's name. And dressed strangely, too. Where are you from? The
East? The Orient?
JOEL: Er, Hemel Hempstead.
MICHELANGELO: I have not heard of this place. It is exotic?
JOEL: It's in England.
MICHELANGELO: England! You hear, Señor Priest? My fame spreads to England! Come inside,
Joel. You will take refreshment after your journey.
JOEL: Yes. My, my journey. Er
PRIEST: But Señor, the sculpture.
MICHELANGELO: (receding) Away. I will resume work later.
PRIEST: Our patience is not limitless, Señor.
(Bits of marble tumble.)
PRIEST: Yes. You yearn for release. You writhe to break from your stone prison. Patience. It will not
be long. Michelangelo has seen the Angel in this block, and he will carve until he sets you free.

GABY: Don't believe we just breezed into the Papal apartments.

DOCTOR: I told you those Swiss Guards would be fine. If you act like you should be allowed in
somewhere, I find you generally are.
GABY: Not sure that works on airport security where I'm from.
DOCTOR: Oh, the chaps at Heathrow are friendly enough.
GABY: Huh. Been there recently?
DOCTOR: 1981.
GABY: That long ago?
DOCTOR: Not so long for me, and yet five hundred years in the future. All a matter of perspective
with time, you see.
GABY: No.
DOCTOR: Well, best not get into the philosophy of it just now. Ah, the Chapel.
(Big door opens. Sounds of hammering.)
DOCTOR: Of course, getting in is probably easier when the place is in chaos.
GABY: What's going on?
DOCTOR: They must be building the scaffolding so Michelangelo can start work on the ceiling again.
GABY: Again? Oh, I see what you mean. Only half of it's painted.
DOCTOR: Yes, 1511. He finished the first half eighteen months ago. He's only just about to start on
the second. Any sign of Joel?
GABY: No.
DOCTOR: Well, don't worry. Brave heart, Gaby. Anywhere else you think he might go?
GABY: That ceiling.
DOCTOR: Yes, not bad, is it? And I'll tell you a secret. The second half will be even better. So long as
I
GABY: Wait. Half painted? I remember.
DOCTOR: Something about getting here?
GABY: No. Before. When we met you. The ceiling. Joel was freaking out.

JOEL: Gaby, Michelangelo's ceiling. Half of it's missing.

GABY: Maybe it's being repaired?
JOEL: No. No, no, no, no. It's just gone. Where's God creating the sun and planets? God creating
Adam?
DOCTOR: Heartbreaking, isn't it?
JOEL: What?
DOCTOR: That beauty lost from history.
JOEL: Lost?
GABY: I'm sorry, are you with the tour?
DOCTOR: I'm something of a tourist, yes.
GABY: Like your trousers.
DOCTOR: Thank you.
GABY: Is that celery?
DOCTOR: I'm the Doctor.
GABY: Right. Hello. Er, Gaby. This is Joel.
DOCTOR: And how's the honeymoon so far?
GABY: What? How did you?
JOEL: Do you know what's going on here?
DOCTOR: Yes, I rather fear I do.
JOEL: Well?
DOCTOR: Ah, well, you see, according to this leaflet, Michelangelo disappeared in 1511 before
starting work on the second half of the ceiling.
JOEL: No, he didn't.
DOCTOR: We've still got his sculpture of the Pietà, and of course his famous statue of David, but
Sistine ceiling was forever left unfinished.
JOEL: It wasn't. Gaby, it wasn't. He finished it in 1512.
DOCTOR: Quite so. It's nonsense, isn't it? But I wonder if his other pieces are still around. You may
want to check, although where to start?
JOEL: Oh, his Moses statue. The Church of San Pietro.
GABY: What? Joel?
JOEL: Excuse me. Thank you. Sorry. Pope Julius's tomb. Come on.
GABY: Looks like we're going, then. Bye, er, Doctor.
DOCTOR: Goodbye.
(Footsteps receding.)
DOCTOR: And I'm sorry, both of you. I'm so sorry.

DOCTOR: Hold on. So you and Joel, you remember the whole of the Sistine ceiling, not just half of it.
GABY: Of course. Why wouldn't we?
DOCTOR: I should probably tell you why I'm here.
GABY: In the Sistine Chapel?
DOCTOR: In 1511. Look, we need to find Joel.
GABY: So I keep saying.
DOCTOR: Let's talk as we go.
GABY: 1511. Time travel. I mean, it's nonsense, isn't it? Doctor?

JOEL: Wow! These are incredible.

MICHELANGELO: Those? Just doodles. Come, sit. Tell me about your journey to Rome.
JOEL: Ah, well, I can't actually remember much.
MICHELANGELO: No? Piero! Food, Piero! Where is that boy?
JOEL: Oh, these are sketches for the rest of the ceiling.
MICHELANGELO: What? Oh, yes.
JOEL: God creating Adam.
MICHELANGELO: Yes.
JOEL: Er, are you going to do it like this?
MICHELANGELO: What? Why?
JOEL: Oh, no, I just er, you know, I, I mean, you know, not going to have God stretching his hand out,
you know, like this, to, you know, impart the divine spark to Adam, perhaps?
MICHELANGELO: That's good. Hold that pose. Something like this, you mean?
JOEL: Yeah. Yeah, that's the one.
PIERO: Here, master. Bread, cheese.
MICHELANGELO: Ah, Piero, my boy. About time.
PIERO: And wine.
(Stumble, spilt.)
MICHELANGELO: You idiot! Look what you've done!
PIERO: I'm sorry. I didn't mean
MICHELANGELO: Am I made of money? Clean this up. Bring more wine for our guest.
PIERO: Yes, master. At once, of course. Sorry. (leaves)
MICHELANGELO: Hurry! My apologies, Señor.
JOEL: No, no, no. Not at all. I don't think the boy meant to.
MICHELANGELO: Do you tell me how to run my household, Señor?
JOEL: Ah, of course not. So, tell me more about the Sistine Ceiling.
MICHELANGELO: Words, words, words. Why tell when you can show? Come. Let us see how the
scaffolding progresses.
JOEL: What, now?
MICHELANGELO: Yes!
JOEL: But, but what about the food?
MICHELANGELO: Food? Let us feast on art, Señor.
PIERO: More wine, master.
MICHELANGELO: Never mind that now. We're going to the Chapel. Now where are my sandals?
(leaves)
JOEL: Is he always like this?
PIERO: Yes.
JOEL: Well, sorry. Are you coming to the Chapel too, or are you sick of the sight of it?
PIERO: I've never seen the master's ceiling. All Rome talks of it, of course.
JOEL: You've never seen it? Well, come on. Bring the bread and cheese. We'll have a sandwich.
PIERO: Er, what?
MICHELANGELO: (distant) Let's be off. Don't dawdle!
JOEL: I'll show you. Come on.
PIERO: Yes, Señor.

GABY: So, how exactly does time travel work, then?

DOCTOR: Well, it's a little hard to summarise.
GABY: I teach physics. Try me.
DOCTOR: Physics?
GABY: That's how Joel and I met. He's history.
DOCTOR: Ah, staff room romance.
GABY: Our eyes met over tea and dark chocolate digestives. We shared a hatred of 9B. So, time
travel.
DOCTOR: Well, to start with, the physics. Nearly everything you think you know is wrong.
GABY: I'm sorry?
DOCTOR: Well, nearly everything is quite strong. Some of it. Well, no, most of it. Well, let's just say
much more than half.
GABY: So basically I should just accept what you're saying.
DOCTOR: Yes. That might be easiest.
GABY: And why are you here, Doctor?
DOCTOR: Because of the disappearing artists.
GABY: I'm sorry?
DOCTOR: Italian artists, disappearing from history. Raphael, Caravaggio, Titian. A terrible act of
trans-temporal vandalism. And it all starts here with Michelangelo in 1511.
GABY: What do you mean, disappearing?
DOCTOR: Vanishing from the established time stream. The glories of their art, lost.
GABY: This is nonsense.
DOCTOR: You like that word, don't you?
GABY: But those artists haven't gone missing. Some of their works, maybe, but we have histories,
biographies.
DOCTOR: They're not supposed to go missing, that's what I'm saying. Fixed points in Time and all
that. So that's why I'm here. Come along.
GABY: Why didn't you tell us this when we first met in the Sistine Chapel in the, well, yes, in the
future.
DOCTOR: Can't answer that.
GABY: Oh, like to maintain an air of mystery, do you?
DOCTOR: Well, yes. But that's not the reason. I mean I can't answer that.
GABY: What?
DOCTOR: I'm not able to. For me, the meeting hasn't happened yet.

JOEL: Wow! Just wow!

PIERO: You like my master's ceiling?
JOEL: It's so fresh.
PIERO: Mmm. He complained a lot while painting it.
MICHELANGELO: My scaffolding is nearly complete.
PIERO: Oh, ouch. I understand now about your neck, master. Gazing upward all the time.
JOEL: Ah, yeah. You need a mirror.
MICHELANGELO: What?
JOEL: To look at the ceiling without cricking your neck.
MICHELANGELO: Those luxury Venetian things? They cost a fortune! Although, the Holy Father has
some in the Papal apartments. I will ask him.
JOEL: Ah, I mean, I don't want to cause any trouble with the Pope.
MICHELANGELO: I'm in favour. After all, he's given me funding to complete the ceiling. I'll go to him,
then back to my sculpture. Excellent, Señor. You're full of ideas. Piero will look after you. (leaves)
JOEL: Er, thanks.
PIERO: Shall we go back, Señor? I can make another sandwich. The cheese between two halves of
bread. Ingenious.
JOEL: Yeah, why not. Though, seeing the ceiling does remind me about. Oh! Oh!
PIERO: Señor? Are you all right?
JOEL: Gaby!
PIERO: Who?
JOEL: My wife.
PIERO: Your wife?
JOEL: How could I? I am the worst new husband in the world. Gaby, I need to find her.
PIERO: She is in Rome too?
JOEL: I guess so. I don't know. I just remember arriving and then I, I got distracted.
PIERO: I can help you look, Señor. There are not so many English ladies in Rome. We shall soon find
her.
JOEL: Well then, let's go. Look, come on, Piero. Don't dawdle.
PIERO: My master's manner is contagious. Coming, Señor.

DOCTOR: Look at her. The crowning jewel of Renaissance architecture. One of the largest and most
exquisite buildings on the planet, and one of the artistic wonders of the universe. Saint Peter's
Basilica.
GABY: It's a building site.
DOCTOR: Yes. Well, it will be Saint Peter's Basilica eventually.
GABY: Right. When it has a roof. In about ten years.
DOCTOR: Better make that a hundred and ten. It doesn't get finished until November 1626. Too many
cooks, you know. Bramante, Maderno, Bernini. Even Michelangelo gets involved. As long as he's still
around in 1547, that is. Sculpture, painting, architecture. These Renaissance men, eh?
GABY: Yeah.
DOCTOR: Leonardo's charming, of course. Very gracious about all those Mona Lisas.
(See City of Death.)
GABY: Joel?
DOCTOR: I beg your pardon?
JOEL: Piero! Piero, it's her. It's Gaby! Gaby!
GABY: Joel! Doctor, it's Joel.
JOEL: Gaby!
GABY: Joel!
JOEL: Gaby, are you all right?
GABY: Yes. (kissing)
DOCTOR: Oh dear.
PIERO: These English are very er, passionate, no? Are you all right, Señor?
DOCTOR: Fine. I'm just not really used to people doing this around me. I'm the Doctor, by the way.
PIERO: Piero.
DOCTOR: Delighted. (kissing stops) Well, there we go.
GABY: Joel, we've been looking for you.
JOEL: We? Ah, it's him. Mister Cricket. Is he behind all this?
DOCTOR: No. Or at least, I think not.
GABY: The Doctor's been helping me. And by the way, doesn't remember meeting us.
JOEL: What?
GABY: Although, to be fair, I don't remember how. No, wait, it's coming back.
JOEL: Yes, same here. I remember.
DOCTOR: What did I say? TCDD.
GABY + JOEL: The angel!
DOCTOR: What?
PIERO: You saw an angel?
GABY: Not a real one, a stone one, in the church.
JOEL: San Pietro in Vincoli. Michelangelo's statue of Moses.
DOCTOR: Michelangelo's Moses doesn't have any angels on it.
GABY: It wasn't there. The Moses, I mean.
JOEL: There was a statue of an angel in its place, and then, and then, it sounds ridiculous, but
DOCTOR: But it moved.
GABY: Yes, it touched us!
JOEL: And then you were gone and I was in Michelangelo's work yard.
GABY: What?
JOEL: This is his servant, Piero.
PIERO: Señora.
GABY: You met Michelangelo? What's he like?
JOEL: An artistic temperament.
GABY: He's grumpy?
JOEL: Oh, yes.
DOCTOR: Stop, stop, stop. Can we forget Michelangelo for a moment?
GABY: Doctor?
DOCTOR: This angel, it had its hands over its eyes, like this?
JOEL: Yeah, like it was crying.
DOCTOR: A Weeping Angel.
JOEL: Crying, weeping, let's not get pedantic.
DOCTOR: No, that's what it's called, a Weeping Angel. A creature that resembles a statue quantum-
locked into position while it's observed. But if you look away, if you so much as blink
JOEL: It can move?
DOCTOR: And more. It can displace you in time.
GABY: It can do what?
DOCTOR: The most humane psychopaths in the universe. They kill you by stealing your future. No
mess, just the energy of your unlived days for them to feed on.
GABY: Oh, nonsense.
DOCTOR: If that's what sent you back, then, of course, Michelangelo's disappearance, it must be
connected. There's a Weeping Angel loose in Rome.

MICHELANGELO: Oh, come, you petrified spirit. You will live!

PRIEST: Señor Buonarroti.
MICHELANGELO: You. Interrupting again? I thought you wanted this statue finished.
PRIEST: I thought you had given up our commission.
MICHELANGELO: You bait me once more, Señor Priest, and I shall.
PRIEST: I am sorry. I came here to apologise.
MICHELANGELO: Is that so?
PRIEST: I am sorry for our argument. The Order of the Three Angels knows the great Michelangelo is
the only artist skilful enough to fulfil our commission.
MICHELANGELO: Well, I, thank you.
PRIEST: And the statue comes on apace. Its features clearer. So beautiful. Even now I can feel its
MICHELANGELO: Señor Priest?
PRIEST: Where is he?
MICHELANGELO: (muffled) Who? Señor. Señor, you are in my way. You were the one urging my
pace and now you block me from working. (normal) Señor!
PRIEST: The stranger who arrived. Joel. Where is he?
MICHELANGELO: How should I know? Now move!
PRIEST: I must find him.

DOCTOR: This is very bad. We have to find it.

JOEL: A living statue that eats your future? This is nonsense.
GABY: I keep trying the nonsense argument. It doesn't work with him.
DOCTOR: We need to protect Michelangelo.
PIERO: My master is in danger?
DOCTOR: Grave danger. Get back to him as soon as possible. Keep him safe.
PIERO: Safe, Señor? From, from what?
DOCTOR: Just keep him away from any statues.
PIERO: Statues?
DOCTOR: Statues on buildings, statues in churches. Any statue could be dangerous. Now go, run.
PIERO :I, yes, Señor.
GABY: And us?
DOCTOR: We search for the Angel.
JOEL: Looking for one particular statue in Renaissance Rome? Right, yeah, that'll be easy. It's not as
if every leading churchman is commissioning sculptures, not to mention the hundreds being dug up
from the ground. They're trying to out-do classical Rome here.
DOCTOR: I've got something in the Tardis to help us scan.
GABY: Tardis?
DOCTOR: My ship. You'll love it, Gaby. It's one of the best pieces of nonsense I have.
MAN: Look out below!
JOEL: What the?
DOCTOR: Get out of the way!
(Crash! Coughing.)
JOEL: That was close. Are you okay?
GABY: I think so. In one piece, at least, which is more than can be said for that pillar. Renaissance
health and safety, eh, Doctor?
DOCTOR: That wasn't an accident. See these chips in the stone? A crowbar. This block was worked
loose deliberately.
JOEL: The Angel?
DOCTOR: Not their usual method of attack.
MAN: Hey, stop him!
DOCTOR: Look, up on the scaffolding.
JOEL: A priest! I've seen him before. He was at Michelangelo's when I arrived.
DOCTOR: Come on!
JOEL: We're chasing him?
DOCTOR: He just tried to kill us! When people do that, I usually like to know why. This way.
(Running.)
GABY: Happens to you a lot, does it? People trying to kill you?
DOCTOR: All the time.
JOEL: Why am I not surprised?

(Breathless.)
PIERO: Master? Master! Oh, not here. Hmm, just you on your own, eh, Señorina Angel? I expected
the master to be working on you. Keep him away from statues. Huh, that Doctor asks the impossible.
Ah well, better try the house. Don't go anywhere, Señorina. Master?
(Stones fall.)
PIERO: Master? Is that you? Ah, Señorina Angel, your hands. You were covering your eyes and now
you reach out, to me? It's a miracle! A miracle! Master! Come and see your sculpture! It lives! It's
trying to touch
(Silence apart from a distant church bell.)
MICHELANGELO: What is all this shouting? Piero? Are you playing silly games? I have no patience
for it. Piero! No one here. Except my angel. Have you seen him, eh? Ha! No, you see no one. You
must forever cover your eyes. Nearly complete now. If only I could make you really live.

DOCTOR: This way. Don't let him get away.

JOEL: Doctor, wait. Oh!
MAN: Hey, watch out.
(Crash, clatter.)
GABY: Joel, all right?
JOEL: Ow, ow. I think I've broken something.
GABY: Several pots, by the look of it. Here.
MAN: Hey, you going to pay for these?
JOEL: Er, sorry, no time!
(They run away.)
MAN: Hey!
GABY: The Doctor, we've lost him.
JOEL: There, down that street.
GABY: Doctor?
DOCTOR: He came down here.
JOEL: Where is he, then?
DOCTOR: That's the question. This is a dead end.
JOEL: Are we close to the Sistine?
DOCTOR: Yes, it's over there. I suppose he went into one of these buildings, but which one?
GABY: Look! Between the houses. Steps going down.
JOEL: Wait. What's that? A symbol chiselled into the paving.
DOCTOR: Interesting .Three angels entwined.
GABY: I've seen this before.
DOCTOR: What? Where?
JOEL: In the church of San Pietro, on the robes of that priest in the future.
DOCTOR: Another priest?
GABY: He said he was from the Order of the Three Angels.
DOCTOR: Curiouser and curiouser. Come on, let's go down.
GABY: You've heard of it, the Order of Three Angels?
DOCTOR: No.
JOEL: A door.
DOCTOR: With the same emblem
GABY: You seem confused.
DOCTOR: Confused and worried. I don't like to be either. I hate being both.
JOEL: What's wrong?
DOCTOR: This Order must be connected to the Angel.
GABY: I guessed that much.
DOCTOR: But Weeping Angels don't have servants. They've got along perfectly well on their own
since practically the beginning of the universe. They're known as the lonely assassins.
(Door opens.)
DOCTOR: Hmm, not locked.
GABY: He must have come this way, then.
DOCTOR: Let's find out.
(Echoing footsteps.)
GABY: Can't see much.
JOEL: Here, a torch.
(Scrape of metal on stone.)
DOCTOR: Kept ready for use. And flints too. Excellent. I'd rather not go on in the dark.
(Strikes flints, flame bursts into life.)
DOCTOR: There we are. Now then.
JOEL: An empty chamber.
DOCTOR: Let's hope so. Watch out for any statues.
(Walking.)
JOEL: No statues.
DOCTOR: And no priest.
GABY: Just a lot of empty alcoves leading up to this blank wall.
JOEL: Not totally blank. Here, the emblem again. Three angels.
GABY: Wait. Hold the torch steady, Doctor.
DOCTOR: Sorry.
GABY: There, see? The flame, it's flickering.
JOEL: A draught?
DOCTOR: Here, take the torch.
JOEL: What are you doing?
DOCTOR: There must be a way of ah! Ingenious.
GABY: What?
DOCTOR: I think if I push the heads of all three angels like this.
(Stone grating on stone.)
JOEL: Wow! Hello, Indiana Jones.
DOCTOR: The torch.
GABY: A tunnel, going down.
JOEL: Right. And I suppose we're going down this particular rabbit hole.
GABY: But I don't want to go among mad people, Alice remarked.
DOCTOR: Oh, you can't help that, said the Cheshire Cat. We're all mad here. Come on.

(Footsteps echoing on stone slabs.)

DOCTOR: Some kind of catacomb.
GABY: Doctor, if this Angel thing is down here
JOEL: It'd be like being in the labyrinth with the Minotaur.
DOCTOR: And that wasn't much fun, I can tell you.
GABY: (laughs nervously) You're kidding. He's kidding, right?
JOEL: It's hard to tell.
DOCTOR: Feel that.
JOEL: What?
DOCTOR: Underfoot. We're not going down any more.
GABY: The tunnel's levelled off.
DOCTOR: Ah. A chamber.
JOEL: A big chamber.
GABY: I can't see the roof.
DOCTOR: Quite some work to carve this, and more torches round the walls. Let's shed some light on
the situation.
JOEL: Doctor!
GABY: Frescos.
JOEL: Of angels. Angels painted everywhere.
DOCTOR: And all of them weeping. They're beautifully done.
JOEL: It's a chapel.
GABY: A chapel? How could you possibly know that?
JOEL: Because, clever clogs, it has an altar. Look. With candles.
DOCTOR: Waiting to be lit. Three of them. And three empty plinths.
JOEL: Ready to hold statues of saints.
DOCTOR: Or Angels. I don't understand. This Order, it's obsessed with them. The symbols, the
frescos, depict Angels again and again, but they don't carve any, almost as if that would be
blasphemous.
GABY: Someone's coming.
JOEL: Lots of them, down the tunnel we just used.
GABY: I don't fancy meeting the whole order at once.
DOCTOR: Quick, over here. There are other tunnels. Eeny, meeny, miney! Come on.

GABY: So if we can't get back, how do we get out?

DOCTOR: Details, details. Ah.
GABY: A fork.
DOCTOR: Yes.
JOEL: Which tunnel now?
DOCTOR: Not to worry, I have an infallible sense of direction.
GABY: So which is it this time? Eeny or meeny?
OLD MAN [OC]: Hello?
JOEL: What was that?
OLD MAN [OC]: Is someone there?
GABY: It's nearby.
OLD MAN [OC]: Help me.
DOCTOR: Sounds like someone in trouble.
JOEL: But under the circumstances, we should keep running, right?
DOCTOR: This tunnel.
JOEL: Oh, I guess not.
GABY: Joel?
JOEL: He's got the torch.

OLD MAN: (frightened) Who's there?

DOCTOR: Friends.
JOEL: A secret chapel, a subterranean labyrinth, now a loony chained up in a cell carved from the
living rock.
OLD MAN: Come closer, friends. My eyesight is not what it once was.
DOCTOR: Look at these bars. They're thick with rust. How long have you been down here?
OLD MAN: Oh, you! Oh, I never thought you'd come.
DOCTOR: Well, here we are.
GABY: Have the Order been keeping you a prisoner?
OLD MAN: I've waited so long.
JOEL: I think he's confused.
OLD MAN: It's you. It's you!
GABY: We have to get him out, Doctor, before he keels over.
DOCTOR: I'll have a go at the lock.
JOEL: You can pick it?
DOCTOR: I can try. Terileptils. Sometimes I really miss a sonic screwdriver.
JOEL: Hey, hey, take it easy, old fellow.
OLD MAN: Oh, it's you. I need to tell you my story.
GABY: Save your strength.
DOCTOR: No, keep him talking. We need to know why he's here.
OLD MAN: Many years ago, I found myself in Carrara. How I got there was a mystery to me.
JOEL: Why?
OLD MAN: Carrara, where the purest marble comes from

(Background sounds of manual quarrying.)

OLD MAN: I already had some knowledge of stoneworking, of course. So I stayed, mining the blocks
of marble they call statuaria. The softest grain, almost like flesh. I enjoyed my time there, hard though
it was, breathing the clear mountain air. Life was good, until Jacopo's discovery.
JACOPO: Come quickly. Come and see. It's a miracle!
OLD MAN: Oh, Jacopo. He was my friend. After a rock fall, he found something in a new corner of the
quarry. Something in the stone. Sometimes the natural rock resembles certain things. An animal,
even a person. But it was only ever a vague likeness. This, this was different. It was the top half of an
angel, perfect to the last detail.
JACOPO: It's a miracle. We must tell the priests.
OLD MAN: Word quickly spread. Priests came to consecrate it as a shrine. Jacopo was so proud.
JACOPO: They plan to uncover the whole angel, dig it out if they can.
OLD MAN: I knew it was evil, but Jacopo would not believe me.
JACOPO: Come, my friend. You are jealous I found the angel, and not you.
OLD MAN: Soon afterwards, two stonecutters disappeared. They left wives behind, children. I told
Jacopo it was the Angel, but he had grown obsessed with it, going back to view it again and again,
until he too disappeared. I spoke out, tried to warn people, but the priests were working day and night
to free it. They were already under the Angel's power. They had gazed into its eyes. It swayed them to
its will, and it told them of other Angels that could be brought forth from the marble. The priests
formed an Order. No matter how many years it took, they would free the Angels from the stone.
(An owl hoots.)
OLD MAN: And one night, they came for me in my hut.
PRIEST: Take the heretic. Chain him.
OLD MAN: They took me, and imprisoned me here in this very cell.
OLD MAN: And here I have remained ever since. I knew it was evil, Jacopo's Angel, like the one that
touched me many years ago now, when I served my old master, Michelangelo.
JOEL: Piero!
DOCTOR: Got it. Coming in, Piero.
JOEL: Doctor, it's, it's Piero!
DOCTOR: Yes. Didn't you recognise him?
JOEL: I, no. He's old.
GABY: You recognised him?
DOCTOR: I tend to see the person, not the age. Now for these chains. Hold them up. Now, where
was the Angel that touched you, Piero? We have to find it.
PIERO: In Michelangelo's yard, of course.
DOCTOR: What? So close to him?
PIERO: You don't understand. Señor Joel, you understand, do you not?
JOEL: Me?
GABY: Listen. They've found us.
PIERO: Then you must go.
GABY: I can see torchlight.
DOCTOR: Nearly there.
JOEL: Doctor.
DOCTOR: Another minute.
PIERO: No, Doctor. No. I am too old to run with you.
DOCTOR: We can get you out.
PIERO: I have told my story. That is what matters. These tunnels connect to the basement of the
Sistine. Take the right hand fork.
DOCTOR: Piero.
PIERO: Do what I failed to do. Protect my master.
DOCTOR: We'll come back for you, Piero. You hear?
(Running feet.)
PIERO: I've told my story. All that's left now is the ending.

JOEL: Ah, yes, got it.

DOCTOR: Come on, quickly. Now let's get it shut.
(Effort, clang.)
DOCTOR: Excellent
GABY: Where are we?
DOCTOR: The basement of the Sistine, just as Piero said. Torch, please.
GABY: Oh, here.
DOCTOR: Thank you. Let's find the stairs before this goes out, eh? And then, for our fallen Angel.
GABY: Fallen Angel? What do you mean?
DOCTOR: Well, we know how it got here now.
JOEL: You've lost me.
DOCTOR: Piero's story, the quarry. Isn't it obvious?
GABY: Things haven't really been obvious since we booked a trip to the Sistine Chapel.
DOCTOR: Ah, stairs. Come on.
GABY: So?
DOCTOR: Well, the Weeping Angel must have fallen to Earth, you see, long ago. Outside your
curriculum, Joel. We're talking pre-history. It didn't plan to be here, it got trapped, sucked into the
sediment that eventually became the marble in the quarry.
GABY: But the heat, the pressure needed to form marble.
DOCTOR: Yes, it must have been in absolute torment for millennia. But the process seems to have
preserved it as well. It's even held its form. Remarkable.
JOEL: And it was freed by this Order?
DOCTOR: Years ago, it seems, when Piero was still young. The priests gazed into its eyes, it gained
psychic control over them.
GABY: Right. But now it's in Rome.
DOCTOR: And if it gets to Michelangelo, it'll feast. Not just on displacing him in Time, but on his
unfulfilled art. The richest meal of potential Time energy ever.
(Door slams.)
DOCTOR: The Sistine Chapel.
GABY: Thank goodness. We were down there forever. It's dusk outside.
JOEL: Sounds like a storm coming. Hey, look.
GABY: What?
JOEL: Over there. Someone with a torch.
GABY: I see them.
DOCTOR: No, hold on.
JOEL: Doctor, what are you doing? Don't draw attention to us.
DOCTOR: It's a mirror, see? If I move the torch from side to side, so does the man in the mirror.
JOEL: Of course. A mirror.
DOCTOR: More than one. Help me with these dust sheets.
GABY: They're huge.
DOCTOR: Venetian mirrors, four of them.
JOEL: Yes! Michelangelo borrowed them from the Pope.
GABY: I thought Leonardo was the one who did mirror writing?
JOEL: To look at the ceiling without cricking his neck, like in Ely Cathedral, remember? The mirrors in
the nave.
DOCTOR: You suggested it? He's supposed to have cricked his neck. Joel, I really have enough
problems without you changing the history of the Sistine Chapel.
JOEL: Oh, then, you know, I probably shouldn't mention Michelangelo's design for God creating
Adam.
DOCTOR: What?
JOEL: And, come to think of it, I might also have invented the sandwich.
DOCTOR: No, you can't have.
JOEL: What? Why?
DOCTOR: Because I invented the sandwich.
JOEL: Well, exc
GABY: Guys! Shouldn't we be getting to Michelangelo's work yard?
DOCTOR: Ah, yes, of course.
JOEL: His work yard. Hang on. His work yard!
GABY: What?
JOEL: That's what Piero meant. That's what he thought I understood. Michelangelo was carving a
sculpture. There's a half-completed statue in his yard.
GABY: Of an angel?
JOEL: I don't know. I didn't get a good look. But why would Michelangelo be carving a Weeping
Angel?
DOCTOR: He's not carving it, he's releasing it. It's an Angel from the quarry. We need to get to him
before it's too late.

MICHELANGELO: How is this possible?

PRIEST: A miracle, Señor Buonarroti.
MICHELANGELO: I was inside, getting supper. My servant's vanished, stupid boy. I heard a groaning,
marble cracking, and when I came out, the angel, complete!
PRIEST: Pass me your torch. Ah, yes. you are perfect. You are free!
MICHELANGELO: Free?
PRIEST: Señor Michelangelo, if you wish to be truly blessed, there is a final task.
MICHELANGELO: What task?
PRIEST: One more Angel.
MICHELANGELO: You desire a pair?
PRIEST: From this other block. It's from the same vein of Carrara marble as this one.
MICHELANGELO: But I can't. The Chapel ceiling, the Pope!
PRIEST: Come, it is dark and you are tired. Tomorrow you will begin. Let us get your supper.
(Dramatic chord, stone cracking.)
MICHELANGELO: What? The angel, it's moved! It's next to your other block!
PRIEST: Yes. See how it splinters it open. It tries to release its companion.
MICHELANGELO: Impossible! What devilment is this? Inside the stone, the hand of another?
PRIEST: No devilment. A miracle! They will be free!
MICHELANGELO: I do not understand.
(Thunder rumbles.)
PRIEST: They will all be free! Bwahahahahaha!
DOCTOR: Michelangelo!
MICHELANGELO: Who the blazes are you?
DOCTOR: Get back from the Angel.
MICHELANGELO: What?
DOCTOR: But keep your eyes on it. Don't even blink.
JOEL: Do as he says, please.
MICHELANGELO: Unhand me, Englishman. What's the meaning of this?
DOCTOR: I'm the Doctor. Very excited to meet you. Don't take your eyes off that statue.
PRIEST: The heavens weep! Yes, put out the light and let the shadows come, that the Angel might
work its will.
JOEL: Doctor, the rain. He's trying to snuff out his torch.
DOCTOR: No, no, no! We need the light! Give me the torch.
GABY: We're going to be left (thud) in the dark.
JOEL: No! (thump) Crazy priest.
DOCTOR: Joel, leave him. It's too late now.
PRIEST: Far too late. I offer them to you, master. Feed!
JOEL: Get back here!
PRIEST: Let him go.
MICHELANGELO: Doctor, I have a question.
DOCTOR: Only one? I'm impressed.
MICHELANGELO: Where is my angel?
GABY: Doctor?
DOCTOR: Weren't you watching it?
GABY: I was worried about you and Joel.
DOCTOR: No light, lots of shadows, perfect hunting conditions. All of you, come here. Back to back.
Link arms. We've got to move. I'll look ahead. Gaby, watch the left side, Michelangelo the right. Joel,
try to look behind us. Come on, through the work yard. This way.
MICHELANGELO: We're through the inner yard. Not much further to the gate.
JOEL: These blocks all around. The Angel could be anywhere.
DOCTOR: Yes, thank you, Joel.
PRIEST: (distant) You can't win. Prostrate yourselves. Bwahahahaha!
JOEL: Where is he?
GABY: So much for the Angels not using human servants.
DOCTOR: Maybe being buried in the Earth has made them Earthier.
PRIEST: You will submit to the Order.
DOCTOR: You don't know what you're serving. You think the Angels will spare you?
PRIEST: We swerve them.
DOCTOR: We're food for them. all of us. You included.
PRIEST: No. The Order has served the Angels faithfully, and we will have our reward. We will be
reward
GABY: The Angel, behind him.
MICHELANGELO: The priest has gone.
DOCTOR: And there's his reward.
MICHELANGELO: I did not carve the angel with those fangs. It's monstrous. I cannot bear to look
upon it.
DOCTOR: You must. Don't take your eyes off it. Back away, everyone.
MICHELANGELO: I dreamed of sculpting something life-like. I did not expect to lose my life to it.
DOCTOR: Keep watching it. We're nearly out. Now when I say run, we run.
GABY: Where to?
DOCTOR: The Sistine.
MICHELANGELO: To claim sanctuary?
DOCTOR: Not exactly. It's time to fight back. Everyone ready? Now, run!

MICHELANGELO: (breathless) Oh, ah, ah, right, I'm up!

DOCTOR: Excellent!
MICHELANGELO: Señor Joel and Señora Gaby?
DOCTOR: They'll be in place. With any luck you can stay safe up there on the scaffold out of harm's
way.
MICHELANGELO: What now?
DOCTOR: We wait. Your Angel will free the other one, but they'll have sensed your potential time
energy. They'll come. We just have
(Dramatic chord.)
DOCTOR: Now what?
MICHELANGELO: The arch window, Doctor, at the far end.
DOCTOR: No, no, no, no. They weren't supposed to come through the windows!
MICHELANGELO: What's happening? I can't see.
DOCTOR: The Angels are here! Oh, no. They're in, crawling along the walls.
MICHELANGELO: What is it?
DOCTOR: I can't watch both sides of the Chapel at once. When I look at one Angel, the other crawls
forward.
MICHELANGELO: Doctor, are they coming for me?
DOCTOR: Yes!
MICHELANGELO: How close?
DOCTOR: Oh!
MICHELANGELO: What was that?
DOCTOR: Masonry. One of them dislodged it.
MICHELANGELO: Have they harmed my ceiling?
DOCTOR: Not really the time. One's twenty feet from your scaffolding, the other's ten feet. They're on
you!
MICHELANGELO: I see one above me!
DOCTOR: Get out of there! There's a rope. Swing across to the other platform!
MICHELANGELO: I, oh, ah. The ladder. And again.
(Cracking timbers.)
DOCTOR: They're on the scaffolding now. I can't see them. They're after you.
MICHELANGELO: I am Michelangelo Buonarroti, sculptor, painter, poet, architect, and I designed this
scaffolding myself. Ah!
DOCTOR: What are you doing?
MICHELANGELO: Kicking! This! Beam! Away!
(Creaking wood.)
MICHELANGELO: Over to the wall, Doctor, quickly. Ah!
(Crash of timbers.)
MICHELANGELO: Without that beam, the whole deck of cards comes tumbling down.
DOCTOR: And the Angels with it. Well, they've made rather a mess of the pavement.
MICHELANGELO: I know an excellent mosaicist. Have we destroyed them?
DOCTOR: The Earth's pressure couldn't do it in a hundred million years. I doubt we'd manage it with
a seventy foot drop.
MICHELANGELO: They're still alive?
DOCTOR: And climbing out. Come on! The stairs!
(Door opens.)
DOCTOR: I've got the torch.
MICHELANGELO: To the Chapel basement?
DOCTOR: To the catacombs.
MICHELANGELO: Catacombs? What catacombs? The door.
DOCTOR: They're coming.
MICHELANGELO: Quick! (running) I can't believe it. Catacombs below the Sistine.
DOCTOR: The Order have been planning this for a long time, as if the Angels could be controlled.
Like asking a tiger to step willingly into a cage.
MICHELANGELO: What's that light ahead?
DOCTOR: Our destination.
(Slowing.)
MICHELANGELO: An altar? Candles? A secret chapel beneath the Sistine?
DOCTOR: Yes.
MICHELANGELO: And frescos. Weeping Angels.
DOCTOR: And now a real one. Look.
MICHELANGELO: It's in the doorway.
DOCTOR: Yes. Now, Michelangelo Buonarroti, I'm going to ask you to do the bravest thing you've
ever done.
MICHELANGELO: The scaffolding wasn't enough?
DOCTOR: We need to lure them inside.
MICHELANGELO: We do?
DOCTOR: They can't move while we're watching. So we imitate them. We cover our eyes.
MICHELANGELO: What?
DOCTOR: Just for a moment, when I say. Can you do it?
MICHELANGELO: I trust you, Señor Doctor.
DOCTOR: Good. So, cover them, and look!
MICHELANGELO: Both Angels entering.
DOCTOR: Once more. Ready. Cover your eyes. And look.
MICHELANGELO: Oh, so fast. Are they looking around them?
DOCTOR: They're not stupid. They suspect a trap, which this is. Joel and Gaby, the mirrors, now!
(Sheets flap.)
JOEL: Ah, done it!
GABY: Mine's in place.
MICHELANGELO: The Pope's mirrors!
DOCTOR: Got them. Venetian mirrors, Michelangelo, one on either side of the Angels. A trap.
MICHELANGELO: How?
DOCTOR: Look in the mirrors. Angel upon Angels, optical infinite regress. They can't move without
seeing themselves.
JOEL: So they stay frozen?
DOCTOR: Exactly.
MICHELANGELO: They're really trapped?
GABY: Yes!
DOCTOR: We'll bring the last two mirrors in, surround them on all four sides for safety, and we've
done it.
(Dramatic chord.)
DOCTOR: I really shouldn't say things like that.
MICHELANGELO: What was it?
GABY: It came from that tunnel, the one leading outside.
JOEL: Something's coming.
DOCTOR: The storm's blowing in. Someone's opened the tunnel.
GABY: The candles.
JOEL: No, the torch.
DOCTOR: Don't panic.
MICHELANGELO: But the Angels?
DOCTOR: It's fine. They hunt in the dark. Their night vision means they're still trapped by the mirrors.
Now who has the flints?
GABY: Here, I'll relight the candles.
DOCTOR: Good.
JOEL: Whoa! Whoa!
DOCTOR: Joel?
JOEL: Another Angel in the entrance. Strike the flint again.
MICHELANGELO: God preserve us.
DOCTOR: The candle, Gaby.
GABY: I'm trying!
MICHELANGELO: It's coming for me. Where is it? It reaches for me.
GABY: There's too much of a draught.
PIERO: But I kept my torch alight.
MICHELANGELO: It nearly had me!
DOCTOR: Keep looking at it. Piero!
MICHELANGELO: What?
PIERO: I'm not so fast on my feet these days, master. Especially not with these chains.
DOCTOR: Keep looking at the Angel. Piero, good to see you.
PIERO: I knew Jacopo's Angel was still loose, Doctor. It had to be defeated.
DOCTOR: Jacopo's Angel. The first Angel from the quarry. Of course. How stupid. It's always been
the Order of Three Angels.
PIERO: What?
DOCTOR: There were three buried in the marble. Now all are here.
GABY: But we've only got two trapped by the mirrors.
PIERO: Get these off me. We can chain it, drag it to the others.
DOCTOR: Poetic justice.
MICHELANGELO: Piero? You are old. How is this possible?
PIERO: A long story.
DOCTOR: There.
PIERO: Shall we, master?
MICHELANGELO: Putting me to work, eh, Piero?
PIERO: You give the order.
MICHELANGELO: Then heave!
DOCTOR: That's it! Into the circle. Gazing at their own reflections. Quantum-locked. Down here
forever.

(Walking.)
MICHELANGELO: I will seal the tunnels.
GABY: How?
MICHELANGELO: Perhaps a new building material. They're using it at Saint Peter's. The ancients
knew of it, used it for the dome of the Pantheon. I could get hold of some, or mix my own.
JOEL: And the Order?
DOCTOR: Now the Angels are trapped, their psychic influence should wane.
PIERO: If the Order will listen to me, I can be a witness, reveal the truth they have been blind to.
GABY: Look, sunrise.
(Door opens.)
JOEL: Whoa! What happened in here?
MICHELANGELO: My scaffolding. We'll need to rebuild. I will certainly look forward to painting, not
sculpting, for a while.
JOEL: But don't stay away from sculpting forever, eh?
GABY: And the Angels will just stay down there?
DOCTOR: Yes.
MICHELANGELO: A hellish nightmare, hidden far below this place.
JOEL: With your glorious heavens painted up above.
DOCTOR: Inferno and Paradiso.
PIERO: I will see your finished ceiling then, master?
MICHELANGELO: You shall indeed, Piero. Let me show you. That panel there will be God creating
Adam.
PIERO: Oh, I see. (receding.)
GABY: And us? Can we please go back home now.
JOEL: Yeah. We've a honeymoon to finish.
DOCTOR: Ah. Er, sorry.
GABY: What?
JOEL: Why?
DOCTOR: Because you can't go back. Not after being touched by an Angel.
GABY: But you keep saying you're a time traveller.
DOCTOR: Yes.
GABY: So, your ship. Just drop us back in the twenty first century.
DOCTOR: It's not possible. If I take you back, all our work here trapping the Angels will be undone.
GABY: Don't give me that. All the way through this you've made sense of nonsense.
DOCTOR: No, you don't understand. You both remembered the full glory of the Sistine ceiling, even
when no one else did.
JOEL: So?
DOCTOR: That was only possible because you'd been living trans-temporally for centuries, as it were.
You'd already met me, Gaby, before I found you in the market place. Before you met that Weeping
Angel in the future.
GABY: That's true enough.
DOCTOR: But I haven't had that meeting yet. To ensure the Angels are locked in the here and now, I
need to close the loop.
JOEL: My head's starting to hurt.
DOCTOR: Your first meeting with me will be my last with you.
GABY: But we've saved Michelangelo. That future with the ceiling left half-finished, with the Angel
loose, it's gone, hasn't it?
DOCTOR: You're thinking of time as a strict progression of cause and effect, but actually, from a non-
linear, non-subjective viewpoint, it's more like a
GABY: Like a?
DOCTOR: I don't know. I'll think of a good end to that sentence one day.
JOEL: Right.
DOCTOR: It'll be a tricky flight-path, but I can meet you there. The time loop will be closed, and the
established time line will ping! back into place, and the terrible alternative without Michelangelo, poof,
gone.
GABY: Ping? Poof? This is physics?
DOCTOR: It's my physics.
JOEL: So we're stuck here?
DOCTOR: If you want Michelangelo to stay saved, and those Angels to stay trapped.
GABY: Oh, Joel.
JOEL: Come here. It's not quite the Wizard of Oz ending, is it. How about Florence?
GABY: What?
JOEL: To finish our honeymoon. Started in twenty first century Rome, we could finish in sixteenth
century Florence.
GABY: I guess not many people get a honeymoon that spans five hundred years.
JOEL: We could see Michelangelo's sculpture of David.
DOCTOR: Ah, now that is something special, so long as you're not too scared of statues.