The Doctor : Do you need a hand with the dishes? We're really very good, aren't we, Bill?
Bill : Yeah.
Friday : Friday does not require help.
Bill : [stepping up] Happy to. Honestly. Though, uh, he's better at dryin'.
[the Doctor joins her, together displacing Friday from his task]
The Doctor : Yes. Don't like the soapy water; makes the fingers go all crinkly. Nice to be home, I bet. Of course, it would be better if they'd, uh, 'killed the fatted calf,' so to speak.
[Friday turns and starts walking away]
The Doctor : Rolled out the red-planet carpet. Then you're the last of your kind, aren't you, according the the Colonel.
[Friday stops, looks back]
The Doctor : So no one left to do the rolling.
Friday : I *am* the last.
[Friday looks away, but the Doctor presses on]
The Doctor : How can you be sure?
Friday : [turns to face them] There was a war. A great and terrible war. Friday saw much blood. Now all is gone. My world is dead.
The Doctor : [as Friday turns away] But-but while you were asleep, on your ship, in stasis. Maybe there *are* others.
Friday : [turns back again] Friday would... feel... the presence of others. Friday is alone.
The Doctor : [walks up to his face] Why'd you call yourself that? What's your real name? An Ice Warrior would never let these humans patronise him without a reason. You're helping the pig. For what?
Friday : Mars still has many riches.
The Doctor : [walking away, clearly sceptical] Which you are happy to share.
Friday : Why should not others benefit instead?
[Friday walks away]
Bill : Maybe he's telling the truth.
The Doctor : Maybe.
Bill : Wha', can't we give him the benefit of the doubt? I mean, just because he's a big green monster...
The Doctor : You think I'm taking sides? I'm not taking sides. The universe is too complicated, far too nuanced. Things are never quite black and white. There are individual aliens just as there are individual humans. Different languages, accents, politics. Different times, different... loyalties.