As the Doctor sonics the outer lock open, Lynda opens the inside door and pops her head in. "Come with me," the Doctor asks her, over the whines of Strood back on the couch. "Stay in there, you've got a fifty-fifty chance of disintegration. Stay with me, I promise I'll get you out alive. Come on!" She can't be blamed for not assuming he's right about all of it. The Doctor pleads: "Lynda, you're sweet. From what I've seen of your world, do you think anyone votes for sweet?" Valid. He holds out his hand to her, and they streak out of the white room, and into the real world: Floor 56, Satellite Five.
The Doctor recognizes it, but Lynda corrects him: "No one's called it Satellite Five in ages. It's the Gamestation now. Hasn't been Satellite Five in about a hundred years." The Doctor checks his watch and confirms that it's been a hundred years exactly since their last visit. "I was here before. Floor 139. Satellite was broadcasting news channels back then, had a bit of trouble upstairs. Nothing too serious. Easy; gave 'em a hand, home in time for tea." Lynda's skeptical about all this "hundred years ago" thing, but he explains: "I moisturize!" The Doctor notes that there's a lot of power running through -- way more than the normal transmissions would need, no matter how many channels there are, and asks Lynda where she thinks his friends would be. "There's a hundred different games ... ten floors of Big Brother...Call My Bluff, with real guns...Countdown, where you've got thirty seconds to stop the bomb going off...Ground Force, which is a nasty one, you get turned into compost...Wipeout, speaks for itself...Stars In Their Eyes: Literally, stars in their eyes. If you don't sing, you get blinded." The Doctor asks Lynda whether she watches these awful shows, and she says that everyone doesn't. Doesn't the Doctor? "Never paid for my license." (Everybody with a TV in the UK pays their license, which is more than you'd think, and that's why British TV is good. I have had it explained to me any number of times, and I still don't get exactly how it works, but that's it: own a TV, turn it on, pay your license.) "Oh, my God! You get executed for that!" The Doctor brandishes his sonic screwdriver and dares them to try. He is fantastic.
Lynda notes that the Doctor makes no sense, and asks the usual -- "Who are you though, Doctor? Really?" -- and he answers in the usual way, but she tells him not to blow her off, considering that she has just put her life and entire concept of reality in his capable hands. "I'm just a traveller, wandering past," he says. "Believe it or not, all I'm after is a quiet life." She asks the same question Blon asked in the previous episode, whether after this he's just going to fuck off again, and he's not even kidding: "Fast as I can." She asks to come along, and he takes like less than five seconds to issue the invite. So: she's sweet, she showed up out of nowhere, no obvious deformities, and the Doctor adores her on sight. Welcome to your dead ass in the next five minutes, Lynda with a "Y." "First of all, we've gotta concentrate on the getting out. And to do that, you've got to know your enemy, who's controlling it, who's in charge of the satellite now." Who's the Demiurge to the Controller's Archon? Who's the Fake Bastard God that's got the world convinced it's real this time? Whom of all the evils in the universe and time and space is the Doctor going to have to smack the shit out of this time, and play Milton's Lucifer to? Who created this version of the Fourth Great and Bountiful? Who's the bad watchmaker this time? Lynda pulls a switch and a huge placard on the wall of their cavernous room lights up. "Your Lords and Masters," says Lynda. Bad Wolf Corporation.