Back at Hooverville, Solomon threw coffee dregs onto the burning fire as the Doctor, Martha and Rose approached. "So..." The Doctor began, holding the newspaper up with the headline 'Hooverville Mystery Deepens'. "Men are going missing. Is this true?"

"It's true, all right," Solomon replied, sighing as he took the newspaper and went inside his tent.

"Hold on," Rose frowned, as the three of them stood at the opening of the tent. "Men must come and go here all the time. It's not like anyone's keeping a register, right? So, how are these people going missing?"

"C'mon in," Solomon gestured to a couple of chairs, and the three of them sat down slowly. "This is different."

"In what way?" Martha frowned.

"Someone takes them," Solomon replied grimly. "At night. We hear something. Someone calls out for help. By the time we get there, they're gone. Like they vanish into thin air!"

"And you're sure someone's taking them?" The Doctor asked in a soft tone.

"Doctor, when you got next to nothing, you hold on to the little you got," Solomon replied sternly. "Your knife, blanket, you take it with you. You don't leave bread uneaten, fire still burning."

"Have you been to the police?" Rose asked gently, kindness in her tone.

"Yeah, we tried that," Solomon scoffed and shook his head. "Another deadbeat goes missing, big deal."

"So, the question is..." The Doctor paused and frowned. "Who's taking them and what for?"

Suddenly, a young man named Frank poked his head inside the tent, his eyes darting straight to Solomon. "Solomon, Mr. Diagoras is here."

Solomon paused, his expression falling. He rushed out of the tent quickly, followed by the Doctor, Rose and Martha. They approached the space where Mr. Diagoras was addressing the men of Hooverville. "I need men. Volunteers. I got a little work for you and you sure look like you can use the money."

"Yeah," Frank piqued up. "What is the money?"

"A dollar a day." The men grumbled at this, not particularly interested in such low pay.

"What's the work?" Solomon asked.

"A little trip down the sewers," Mr. Diagoras put on a convincing smile, while the Doctor studied him and the crowd. "Got a tunnel that collapsed, needs clearing and fixing. Any takers?"

"A dollar a day?" Solomon scoffed. "That's slave wage. Men don't always come back up, do they?"

"Accidents happen," Mr. Diagoras shrugged.

"What do you mean?" The Doctor suddenly asked. "What sort of accidents?"

"You don't need the work? That's fine," Mr. Diagoras replied, avoiding the question. "Anybody else?" The Doctor raised his hand, and Mr. Diagoras rolled his eyes. "Enough with the questions."

"Oh, no no no! I'm volunteering." The Doctor smiled.

Rose and Martha both raised their hand slowly, and Rose smirked at the Doctor. "If we get killed down there, I'm blaming you." The Doctor couldn't help but smirk back at her. Solomon and Frank both raised their hands, too.

The sewers were dark, damp and dreary. The men and women climbed down the entrance ladder, looking around slowly. "Turn left," Mr. Diagoras instructed. "Go about half a mile. Follow Tunnel 273. Fall's right ahead of you. You can't miss it."

"And when do we get our dollar?" Frank frowned.

"When you come back up," Mr. Diagoras replied after a pause.

"And if we don't come back up?" The Doctor asked with his eyebrows raised.

"Then I got no one to pay!" Mr. Diagoras shrugged.

"We'll be back," Solomon growled, raising his torch into Mr. Diagoras' face.

"Let's hope so," Rose muttered, clutching the Doctor's hand tightly. The others started to walk down the tunnel, but the Doctor took a moment just to stare at Mr. Diagoras. Rose gave his hand a squeeze, and he turned to smile at her.

"Right-o! Come along." He grinned at her, and she couldn't help but giggle at his sudden cheeriness.

"We just gotta stick together," Frank murmured when Rose and the Doctor had joined them again. "It's easy to get lost. It's like a huge rabbit warren. You could hide an army down here."

"So what about you, Frank?" Martha smiled, clutching her torch tightly as they all walked along the path. "You're not from around these parts, are you?"

"Oh, you could talk," Frank chuckled. "No, no, I'm from Tennessee, born and bred."

"So how come you're here?" Martha asked softly, tilting her head in curiosity.

"Uh, my daddy died..." He replied with sadness to his tone. "Mama… couldn't afford to feed us all. So, I'm the oldest, up to me to feed myself, so put on my coat, hitched up here on the railroads. There's a whole lot of runaways in camp younger than me. From all over; Missouri, Oklahoma, Texas… Solomon keeps a lookout for us. So, what about you? You're a long way from home."

"Yeah," Martha sighed. "I'm just a hitcher too."

"You stick with me, you'll be all right," Frank smiled at her, and she gave him a warm smile in return.

"So, this Diagoras bloke..." The Doctor frowned. "Who is he, then?"

"A couple of months ago, he was just another foreman..." Solomon explained. "Now it seems like he's running most of Manhattan."

"How did he manage that, then?" Rose asked softly.

"These are strange times," replied Solomon with a shrug. "A man can go from being King of the Hill to the lowest of the low overnight. It's just for some folks it works the other way 'round."

The Doctor's attention was suddenly caught by an odd sickly green blob discarded on the ground. "Whoa!" He shone his torch on the blob, crouching down beside it slowly.

"Is it radioactive, or something?" Rose asked, looking at the blob in disgust. It looked sort of like a brain, and it smelt awful. "It's gone off, whatever it is."

The Doctor slipped on his brainy specs and carefully picked up the slimy blob, feeling the texture of the surface, much to Martha's disgust. "And you've got to pick it up!"

"Shine your torches through it," Rose and Martha did so, and the lights passed through the blob. "Composite organic matter. Martha? Medical opinion?"

"It's not human, I know that," Martha replied, and the same look of bewilderment crossed Solomon and Frank's features.

"No, it's not. And I'll tell you something else..." The Doctor frowned. "We must be at least half a mile in and I don't see any sign of a collapse, do you? So, why did Mr. Diagoras send us down here?"

"Where are we now, Doctor?" Rose asked. "What's above us?"

"Well..." The Doctor looked up at the ceiling slowly. "We're right underneath Manhattan..."

Meanwhile, a small group of workers were gathered in Mr. Diagoras' office. "And here, the crowning glory of the Empire State Building, the mast itself!" Mr. Diagoras exclaimed as he gestured to the plans of the building. "1472 feet above New York."

"It's a beautiful thing, sir..." The first foreman replied with a smile. "And every single one of us is proud of it. My wife says it's like a, like a spire reaching into Heaven."

"Except the Gates of Heaven need a little decoration," Mr. Diagoras pointed to a couple of bronze plates, each decorated with spheres. They looked suspiciously like the bottom part of a Dalek. "These plates have got to be fixed to the mast, right to the base itself."

"That's okay," The foreman nodded. "That's not too bad. Shouldn't take too long."

"But the work has got to be finished tonight."

"What?" The foreman's eyes widened. "Are you trying to kill us? We're flat out up here! C'mon!"

"Don't argue with me!" Mr. Diagoras shouted.

"But sir, a man can't work up there at night," The foreman explained. "It's freezing. Your hands go numb, you lose your grip, you fall."

"You don't get it," Mr. Diagoras snarled. "If you won't work…I can replace you like that!" He snapped his fingers, and after a pause, the foreman gave in and nodded. "Now take those panels and get going."

One of the other men walked forward and picked up a panel. It was heavier than he expected, and he frowned. "What sort of metal is this anyway?"

"Don't ask questions, just go!" Mr. Diagoras ordered. Each man took a panel and filed out of the room. "And I don't care how cold it is, how tired you are, just get out there and finish the job!"

As soon as the men left, a Dalek popped out of the lift. "The conductor must be complete for our plan to succeed."

"Unemployment is such an incentive," Mr. Diagoras chuckled. "It'll get done, don't worry."

They both moved to an exposed section of the floor, overlooking the breathtaking view of the city. "Daleks have no concept of worry," The Dalek stated.

"Yeah?" Mr. Diagoras shrugged. "Well, lucky you."

"This day is ending," The Dalek uttered, observing the skyline. "Humankind is weak. You shelter from the dark. And yet, you have built all this."

"That's progress," Mr. Diagoras explained. "Ya gotta move with the times or you get left behind."

"My planet is gone, destroyed in a great war," Mr. Diagoras almost felt sorry for the Dalek. "Yet versions of this city strand throughout history. The human race always continues."

"We've had wars," Mr. Diagoras murmured. "I've been a soldier myself. I swore then I'd survive, no matter what."

"You have rare ambition," The Dalek said after a moment, turning its eyestalk up to Mr. Diagoras' face.

"I'm gonna run this city, whatever it takes, by any means necessary!"

"You think like a Dalek."

Mr. Diagoras paused, not sure whether to be pleased with that comparison or not. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Meanwhile, inside the laboratory, Dalek Sec and two other Daleks were watching the exchange on a screen. "This human is our best option," Dalek Sec uttered. "Bring him to me."

"Your loyalty will be rewarded," The Dalek in floor 100 cried. "Come with me." It turned and headed towards the lift, and Mr. Diagoras followed slowly, looking curious.

"Prepare the laboratory," Dalek Sec ordered. "The Final Experiment will begin."

"Where are we going?" Mr. Diagoras shifted awkwardly in the lift.

"You have been summoned by our leader," The Dalek replied.

"Oh, and about time too," chuckled Mr. Diagoras, but he couldn't help but feel anxious. The lift doors opened to reveal the laboratory, filled with various pieces of Dalek machinery and scientific equipment. He slipped on a pair of black leather gloves as he slowly walked further into the room, looking nervously at the pig slaves who were watching from the sides.

"I bring you the human!" The Dalek cried.

"I take it…you're in charge?" Mr. Diagoras asked as he greeted the black Dalek.

"Correct. I am Dalek Sec, leader of the Cult of Skaro."

"Then, my lord Sec, I am honoured to meet you," Mr. Diagoras replied. "Ever since you first made contact with me, transmitting your thoughts into the corners of my mind, tempting me with such images, such ideas…Oh, sir, I'd always dreamt that the—"

"Cease talking!"

Mr. Diagoras frowned. "I just wanna let you know how grateful I am—"

"I said cease. Slaves, secure the human."

"But you don't need to do that! I'm on your side," The pig slaves secured him, and he struggled madly. "I'm working with you! I'm your partner!"