The Man Who Invented the Daleks (48 page)

Adams had taken over the role of script editor on
Doctor Who
in late 1978, at a time when his own star was definitely in the ascendant. In March that year Radio 4 had broadcast his science fiction comedy
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
, which had attracted an enthusiastic following – it was repeated twice that year – and would go on to spawn a sequel, several books, a television series and ultimately a movie. To celebrate the fact, he inserted a self-indulgent reference into ‘Destiny of the Daleks’, with the Doctor seen reading a book titled
The Origins of the Universe
by Oolon Colluphid, a figure from
Hitchhiker’s.
Adams also, less happily, added some gags about the design of the Daleks, so that the Doctor jokes about how he’ll be received by the creatures. ‘Oh, I’m sure they’ll welcome me with open ar … I mean, they would welcome me with open arms if they had arms,’ he says to Davros. ‘Please, please, no offence meant at all.’ And when he climbs up a rope to escape the pursuing Daleks, he throws back a taunt: ‘If you’re supposed to be the superior race of the universe, why don’t you try climbing after us?’ This was precisely the humour that Nation had striven for so long to avoid, the reason why he had blocked Barry Cryer and Peter Vincent’s sketch about a Dalek Romeo and Juliet. The appearance of jokes within
Doctor Who
itself was deeply deplored by Nation.

There was also some confusion about the nature of the Daleks themselves. They are repeatedly referred to as ‘robots’, while their portrayal as creatures governed entirely by logic doesn’t chime with what we already know of them. Their long-standing tendency to hysterical, repetitious boasting always suggested an emotional insecurity, while as far back as ‘The Dalek Invasion of Earth’ we saw the Black Dalek keeping the Slyther as a pet; the idea may evoke the image of a concentration camp commandant, but it reveals a degree of sentimentality that makes a nonsense of the central plot of ‘Destiny’. Nation’s original storyline for the serial made no mention of the theme of two robotic races locked in a logic trap; instead the Daleks have come after Davros in search of missing circuitry. According to the story’s producer, Graham Williams, the change came after a meeting he and Adams had with Nation; there they recommended him a short story by Isaac Asimov with a similar theme, which he then picked up on.

But while Nation’s own contribution to the below-par standards of ‘Destiny’ can’t be ignored, it was clearly Adams who was the more culpable. Nation’s revenge came in ‘Aftermath’, the opening episode of the third season of
Blake’s 7.
The Intergalactic War between the Federation and the alien forces, presaged in ‘Star One’, has produced a narrow victory for the Federation, but survivors have been scattered in all directions, and Avon escapes in a capsule to a planet named Sarran, where he bumps into Servalan, an encounter that occasions no surprise on his part. ‘It has a perverse kind of logic to it,’ he explains, parodying Adams’s Improbability Drive in
Hitchhiker’s.
‘Our meeting is the most unlikely happening I could imagine. Therefore we meet. Surprise seems inappropriate somehow.’

For the new series of
Blake’s 7
, which began in January 1980, there were substantial changes in the cast. Travis had been killed in ‘Star One’ and both Blake and Jenna had disappeared in the Intergalactic War, presumed dead, Gareth Thomas and Sally Knyvette having separately declined new contracts. ‘I upset Terry enormously when I left the series,’ remembered Thomas. ‘Later on, I realised I really had hurt him a lot, and I was deeply upset about that.’ The circumstances were different, but there was a sense of history repeating itself.
Survivors
had lost its lead character with the departure of Abby, and slipped away from Nation’s vision; was
Blake’s 7
going to go the same way?

During negotiations for the second season, Roger Hancock had asked that the copyright in any new characters created by other writers for the series will become the property of ‘Lynsted Park Enterprises Ltd’, in an attempt to keep the series firmly in Nation’s grip; memories of the loss of control over
Survivors
, and the consequent difficulties of the novelisation, were still fresh. The BBC had rejected that suggestion out of hand, but did concede for the third season that Nation would at least be given advance information about any new running character that he didn’t himself create. In the event, the new additions to the regular crew made their debuts in episodes scripted by Nation and he was able to direct their characterisation. Del Tarrant (Steven Pacey), intended as a fearless pilot, was modelled on the heroes of RAF Fighter Command in the Battle of Britain, and Dayna Mellanby (Josette Simon) was a weapons designer capable of producing high-tech armaments despite her own more traditional tastes. ‘I like the ancient weapons: the spear, the sword, the knife,’ she explained. ‘They demand more skill. When you fight with them, conflict becomes more personal, more exciting.’

More immediately striking was the meeting of Servalan and Avon. Having emerged as the most intriguing figures in the previous season, they now came together on centre stage, with Servalan proposing a coalition. The Federation has lost its command centre on Star One and is in disarray, but the two of them – together with Orac and the
Liberator
– could build a new Federation over which they could jointly rule. For a moment it looks as though the implausible alliance might be on: they kiss but, just as she thinks she has won him over, he seizes her by the throat and throws her to the ground, spurning her offers of power and sex. The enmity between the two will come to dominate much of the remainder of the series.

The change in personnel, and in their relative significance, came at a crucial moment in the show’s run. The previous season had been rescheduled to 7.20 p.m. on a Tuesday evening, pitching it against the hugely popular American import
Charlie’s Angels
, which might reasonably be expected to attract many of the same potential viewers, and the result had been a collapse in audience share. Viewing figures averaged just 7.1 million, a loss of more than two million from the first season, and on one occasion an episode had slipped out of the weekly top 100 altogether. Restored to its original Monday night slot, however, the third season saw the lost audience restored, while nearly half the episodes reached the top thirty. This was despite the absence of Roj Blake, whose name the show continued to bear. It looked as though Nation had created a format that was as sustainable as a soap opera – half of the original characters had now disappeared, and still it survived.

The cause was inadvertently helped by the political transformation that had occurred since season two. In May 1979 the exhausted and largely discredited Labour government that prime minister James Callaghan had inherited from Harold Wilson was voted out in a General Election, and a Conservative administration led by Margaret Thatcher began what turned out to be a generation in office; the Conservatives were still in power when Nation died eighteen years later. In an era when there were few women in political life, let alone domineering right-wing women, Thatcher was seen in some quarters as possessing a cruel seductiveness: ‘Elle a les yeux de Caligule, mais elle a la bouche de Marilyn Monroe,’ in the words of French president François Mitterrand. Even as the numbers of strong women multiplied on television – from police chief Jean Darblay in
Juliet Bravo
to animal trainer Barbara Woodhouse – the comparisons between Servalan and the prime minister did not go unnoticed. When in 1980 the
Guardian
diary column asked its readers to suggest nicknames for Thatcher, there were, among such offerings as Scoldilocks, Maggiavelli and Attila the Hen, several nominations simply for Servalan.

Nation’s own writing for the third season was again limited to just three episodes, though he was still involved in discussions to develop running themes. In the event, the continuing storylines he suggested – particularly a search for Blake – were dropped, and the episodes that resulted lacked the narrative thread that had previously been a feature of the show. There remained, however, the concept of a season cliff-hanger in ‘Terminal’, the last contribution that Nation was to make to the series; indeed it was the last thing he ever wrote for British television.

Happily it’s a fitting swansong. The setting is an experimental artificial planet named Terminal, set up as a replica of Earth to study the evolution of life and populated by a primitive ape-like species. These creatures are assumed to be the ancestors of humanity, and are hence called Links, though this turns out to be an error, as Servalan gleefully points out: ‘The planet’s evolution was massively accelerated. It developed through millions of years in a very short time. The creature you saw is not what man developed from; it is what man will become.’

There’s a hint here of the film
Planet of the Apes
(1968), but essentially we are back on ground prepared by Nation in ‘The Keys of Marinus’, ‘Genesis of the Daleks’ and the short story ‘We Are the Daleks!’, with artificially accelerated evolution, and in territory explored in ‘Death to the Daleks’, with the refusal to accept that evolution necessarily means progress. Except that Nation’s concerns were now emerging into a cultural climate that seemed more receptive. The American rock group Devo had become cult stars with their espousal of the theories of de-evolution on their 1978 album
Q
:
Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo!
(its title echoing the Law in
The Island of Dr Moreau
), while Ken Russell’s 1980 film of Paddy Chayefsky’s novel
Altered States
depicted a scientist experimenting with biological de-evolution through the use of psychedelic drugs and sensory deprivation. Dystopian visions of the future were far from unusual, but the embrace of evolutionary regression seemed ever more appropriate as memories of 1960s liberalism faded in the face of a reactionary move to a much harder political right in both Britain and America. By coincidence ITV had, a couple of months earlier, finally aired Nigel Kneale’s
Quatermass
story that the BBC had rejected earlier in the decade, showing a Britain where society has completely fallen apart. In the midst of the nightmarish violence are a hippy cult left over from the 1960s, the Planet People, angrily rejecting the scientific faith represented by Professor Quatermass. ‘Stop trying to know things,’ one of them exclaims.

There had been a minor variation on this theme in one of Nation’s other scripts for season three, ‘Powerplay’. Here Vila finds himself on a planet named Chenga, populated by two tribes, the Primitives and the Hi-Techs. Both are descended from the original settlers, having adopted very different visions of the society they wish to build and the technology they are prepared to use. Much of the action on Chenga is played for laughs, including a scene in which Vila tries to scare off potential attackers by adopting different voices and pretending to be a heavily armed force (a routine lifted directly from ‘The Threatening Letters’, a 1958 episode of
Hancock’s Half Hour.
) But there is also an element of wishing to have the last, ironic word on
Survivors
, the series that Nation felt was taken from him; the Primitives have followed Abby Grant’s prescription of returning to sustainable technology, and yet are clearly not destined for survival.

The account of de-evolution in ‘Terminal’, however, is merely the backdrop to the main story. Avon, who took over command of the
Liberator
when Blake disappeared, has learnt that Blake is still alive and well and living on the artificial planet. He takes the ship there and discovers Blake in an underground bunker, hooked up to a life support system though fully conscious. But it’s a trap. Servalan has lured Avon here to offer him a deal: she will give him Blake in exchange for the
Liberator.
He agrees, unaware – as is she – that the unknown cloud of particles that the ship flew through en route to Terminal has already begun to corrode its fabric. The crew teleport down to join Avon, and Servalan, having revealed that ‘Blake’ is actually a computer simulation and that the real man is dead, takes the reverse route on to the
Liberator
, just in time for it to explode from the effects of the particle cloud.

The production team expected that this would be the end of the entire series. Nation had gone out in style, destroying the ship that had given the band of rebels their one advantage over the Federation, as well as the computer Zen, who had been effectively part of the cast (‘I have failed you,’ it says plaintively as the
Liberator
begins to disintegrate), though its rival, Orac, had survived. ‘I was fascinated with the idea of cancer in a machine,’ said Nation. ‘I suppose I wanted to give the machine the same vulnerability as a man.’ He had also, as far as the viewers could tell, killed off Servalan and, having teased us with an apparition, finally laid Blake to rest. The surviving crew were left stranded in a bunker on a dangerous planet with no means of escape. Even so, as Nation pointed out in a covering letter to David Maloney when sending in the script: ‘You’ll notice that I have left the door open for series four, should public demand ever drive us to it.’

As it turned out, it wasn’t public demand that did the trick; rather it was approval from the BBC hierarchy. ‘Terminal’ was such a strong episode that Bill Cotton, the controller of BBC1, phoned up while it was being broadcast and insisted that an announcement be made during the credits that the series would return the following year.

By this stage, however, Nation himself had already departed. His letter to Maloney, enclosing the script for ‘Terminal’, had ended on a valedictory note: ‘We’ve had three seasons of Blake together and I thank you most sincerely for everything you’ve done for the show. Apart from odd moments of creative blackouts, I have enjoyed it. What I value very much is the relationship we have had over such a long haul. I very much hope we’ll work together again.’ He wasn’t even in the country to see ‘Terminal’ being broadcast. ‘I actually missed that episode on its original transmission,’ he remembered later, ‘because I was already in the United States.’