Jackie claps a hand over her mouth; the Doctor looks unsmilingly from the sky to Harriet Jones, and stalks toward her. "That was murder," he says coldly. "That was defense," says Harriet. "It's adapted from alien technology: a ship that fell to Earth ten years ago." He shakes his head. "But they were leaving." Not getting it. Harriet reminds him of what he just said to her, the fear he just put in her: "They'd go back to the stars and tell others about the Earth. I'm sorry, Doctor, but you're not here all the time. You come and go. It happened today -- Mr. Llewellyn and the Major. They were murdered. They died right in front of me while you were sleeping. In which case we have to defend ourselves." Not even the production staff agrees on this. For what it's worth, I think they're both right, especially considering Caliban just proved that the Sycorax don't stick by their words, which means that the Doctor is relying on superstition and fear, which is just as bad as blowing them up as far as I'm concerned, except that it's even more likely to burn your ass. And I don't think it's particularly American to feel, as I do, that there's nothing terribly unlikable about Harriet even after this point. The only way I can figure you would lose faith in her, as a hero or as PM, is if you assumed that the Doctor is infallible, which he is not, which is the point; it's possible that Ten's towering Old Testament rage, as much as I love it -- as much as it's the first reason I ever watched this show -- is a wee bit misguided here. If he were infallible, it would be the stupidest show in the universe, and you wouldn't watch it.
"Britain's Golden Age," the Doctor spits at Harriet, and she shakes her head: "It comes with a price." He complains that he gave them the wrong warning: "I should've told them to run. As fast as they can, run and hide, because the monsters are coming: the human race." The ones you...champion, correct? Hey, are you still crazy like you were a second ago? Just because Maggie wanted to put the gays in concentration camps and took it upon herself to shoot black boys on mopeds does not mean that Harriet's going down like that. Although apparently Maggie blew up a retreating ship, too. Harriet: "Those are the people I represent. I did it on their behalf." Then he should have stopped her. "What does that make you, Doctor? Another alien threat?" Oh girl! Do not go down like this either! "Don't challenge me, Harriet Jones," the Doctor hisses, stepping into her personal space. "Because I'm a completely new man. I could bring down your government with a single word." Harriet fights it out, you can see it on her face -- that awful guilt and sadness when you realize that the fight you're having is the only possible outcome of what's happened. When the fight is having you: the worst feeling in the world. Harriet feels the wonder draining out of her life, realizes that the Doctor will never love her again: "You're the most remarkable man I've ever met. But I don't think you're quite capable of that." He gets closer, more intense. "No, you're right. Not a single word." He stares her down. "Just six." She says she thinks not. "Six words." She begs him to stop. "Six." She's in a corner. They stare. He walks around her, abruptly, and approaches Alex. It's about words, and blood; all the different ways a spell can take shape: "Don't you think she looks tired?" he asks, and Alex looks at him, and at Harriet, confused.