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AFTER THE BOARDROOM MEETING
GRANDVILLE HOTEL, HOTEL BAR
AFTERNOON

"I don't like it," David Burton raged. "I don't like it at all."

"Oh don't be so wet," Nation replied. "It's not that big a deal."

"You've got to be kidding. It trashed the entire concept. There's not one thing left there from Doctor Who, or the New Doctor. It's just some random thing now."

"David," Nation insisted. "It's not that big a deal."

"It is, they're just chucking the telephone box. That's iconic."

"Iconic my ass," Nation replied. "I was there back in the beginning. You know how they came up with the police box? Because they had no idea what a time machine should look like. No idea. And what's more, they didn't really care. All it was was a literary device to get them from one spot to another. You know how they came up with it? Because that's what was outside the BBC Comptroller's window. Simple as that. Nothing iconic."

"The red phone booth?" Nation continued. "Same thing. It was there, it was easy, end of story. There's nothing special to either. The magic medical van, it's just a device. Could have been a Delorean, or a School bus. At least it makes sense."

"The premise is changed completely."

"No it's not. It's still a bloke called The Doctor who ships about time and space helping people out."

"But the Doctor isn't a medical Doctor."

"Says you. He's got medical degrees, and every other kind."

"It's not a medical show!"

"Still isn't. The Doctor's going to be hopping through time and space, you think all he's going to do is treat sniffles and set broken arms? Have you even watched medical shows? Watched Quincy? It's just a device. The Doctor's going to be doing the stuff he usually does. Once in while, there'll be a some nod to medicine, and that's it. You're making too big a deal out of it."

David thought about it.

"I suppose when you put it like that...." David said sourly. He wracked his brain, but couldn't find a good response to Terry Nation's imposingly reasonable arguments. He didn't like it, but arguing just made him appear foolish and stubborn.

"Look, David," Nation said, "take it from me. I've been in the business a long time. These concept pitches always sound big and dramatic. But when it comes down to it, when things actually get made, they all tend to flatten out. This seems revolutionary to you, but it's not. Take away the bells and whistles, and it just goes back to being your old show."

"I'm not sure."

"Trust me," Nation assured him.

"I'm not stepping down from the role," there was that. David seized on it, stoking his anger.

"No one says you have to."

"What?" David blinked. "But Paul, Saltzman, he wants to recast."

"Sure," Nation said, "that's what producers do. He wants the best man for the part. He wants to make sure the project succeeds. That's you, we both know it. But you're an unknown quantity to him, and he's trying to sort the market. He'll come around."

"What if he doesn't?" David said. "Jesus, I'm insulted. I feel like walking away."

Nation sighed.

"All right, David, let me be blunt. How long have you been pitching the New Doctor?"

David, caught off guard for a second, had to think. "I'd say about five years or so, we got two series..."

"No," Nation persisted, "how long have you been pitching since the second series ended. Two years? Three? Four?"

"About that."

"And in all that time, not even a nibble. Closed doors. Polite 'no thank you's.' That's when you even got the courtesy of a meeting, and you don't get those often. The truth is, David, that 99% of the time, it all comes to naught. I could fill a room in my house with copies of projects that came to nothing. Hell, I could fill a house. So could Saltzman. So could anyone in the business. That's not because we're bad at it, David. We're very good. But it's the nature of the business, 99% of the time, things go nowhere."

"Right now," Nation continued, "you've got lucky, and between me and Saltzman, you've moved The New Doctor from the 99% that goes nowhere, into maybe the 1% that has a chance. The 1% that gets you money, and gets you credit and credentials. Maybe."

"But I'll tell you David, you walk away, then it's done. The New Doctor goes back into the 99%, it turns out to be nothing, you won't get lucky again, the doors aren't opening, no more interviews, meetings, prospects, nothing. These things, they get one chance, and if you blow it, then no one cares, because there's a thousand other projects waiting in line to take your place, and most of them, they're going to be smarter about it and not let their ego in the way."

"So here's the question for you, David. Suppose The New Doctor goes ahead, without you as the star? Well, you still make money. You still get credit as a producer. You still get notice. Hell, we can even sneak you a guest starring role if you want to be in front of the camera. The point is, David, you still make out well."

"But if the New Doctor doesn't go ahead.... Then you get nothing. Not a dime. Not a credit. Not a future opportunity. You come away with nothing, and if you've got any hopes of a future in this business, forget that too, because people will go 'Who is David Burton?' and the answer will be 'He's that guy who threw a series away for his ego. He's hard to deal with.' No one wants a prima donna, particularly one with no credentials."

"So what's it going to be David?"