The penal spaceship shuttle was windowless, a series of tiny cells just large enough for a prisoner to sit clown, knees touching the metal door. From the ship the prisoners were shuffled through a narrow corridor that led directly into the prison. The Doctor’s first sight of the Moon was when they were taken into a huge room with metallic walls, and here a big window looked out on to the bleak rocky moonscape. the airless world where any escaping prisoner would die instantly through lack of oxygen. A Security guard lined the newly arrived prisoners against the wall facing the big window. Except for the Doctor, they all wore the prison uniforms issued to them before the journey. ‘Don’t move and don’t talk,’ said the guard before leaving. The moment the guard had left, all the prisoners stretched and shuffled cramped feet. A young, fair-haired man with a keenly intelligent face turned to the Doctor. ‘My name’s Doughty. What did they get you for?’ The Doctor smiled. ‘You’d never believe me.’ ‘But you’re political, aren’t you?’ This interested the Doctor.
