SLAVE: Destination co-ordinates, sir. VILA: What?
I deeply regret disturbing you, sir.
Why do it, then?
Is that a question, sir?
Course co-ordinates?
850 by 281, sir.
Just our luck to get this mission.
It was our turn.
If Avon rates this Muller as such a genius why didn't he come for the man himself?
He probablyjust wanted to get you away from the base
to avoid more bother over Muller's lady.
I was a perfect gentleman towards her.
That's what bothered us.
Muller never talked about his work?
I'm not a cyberneticist, Avon.
- He's always been dedicated to the perfection of... - A machine.
- An ideal. - Of which he never speaks.
Our relationship is more...
- Recreational. - I try to help him relax, yes.
Forget work for a few hours.
He drives himself to the limit all the time.
Recently he's been almost frenzied.
Who sets this frenzied pace?
Muller or the robot-development cartel?
ORAC: Muller's childhood sets the pace, naturally.
You think it was Ensor's training?
He was a tyrant for self-discipline.
- Ensor? - The man who designed Orac.
He was Muller's first teacher.
One of the great geniuses in the field of cybernetics.
Greater than Muller?
Well, now, that remains to be seen.
And it's a straightforward pickup.
I'll believe that when we're back at base.
RADIO: Scorpio. Scorpio. This is Muller.
Muller calling Scorpio. Respond, please.
Muller, this is Scorpio.
We're proceeding to rendezvous. What's the problem?
Abort that rendezvous. Change plan.
- Why? - What's wrong?
They are on to me. Can you teleport direct to me here?
- Into your laboratory? - Affirmative.
- Is it shielded? - Negative.
- Not shielded. - Hold on, Muller, we'll check.
- Avon? - Yes, Vila, I got all that.
Hold a moment.
Well, they're on to him.
I can't think how.
The point is, will they use force to hold him?
I don't know.
But the outfit he works for is civil, not military.
They might get a lot less civil at the thought of losing money.
And Muller's brains are their single most profitable asset, yes?
Without question.
- But force is hardly... - Is their most predictable resort.
Tarrant, do as Muller asks and do it quickly.
Teleport in on orbit approach.
Lift Muller and his stuff out as fast as you can.
Remember, they may try and use force to stop him leaving Pharos.
I'll try and discourage them.
Try him again.
Muller, this is Scorpio. Do you copy?
Muller, respond, please.
I'll go anyway.
- It's your life. - That's right, it is.
VILA: A straightforward pickup job, you said.
As last words go, they're not likely to be famous.
- You should worry. - I do!
Supposing they fire off a few interceptors in this direction?
- Duck. - Thank you.
Ready on orbit approach.
SLAVE: Entering orbit approach, sir.
Teleport co-ordinates are in range now.
Go.
Muller?
- Muller, what happened? - That
Leave it.
- Who's this? - He came for me.
(Alarm bleeping)
COMPUTER: This is an all-sections security alert.
An unidentified ship has been detected in unauthorised geo-stationary orbit.
Anti-spy systems are now in operation.
That didn't take them long. Here, put this on.
- Vila, you ready for our guest? - Let's get on with it.
Muller, what's wrong?
TARRANT: Sorry, friend. VILA: Tarrant, what's keeping you?
Tarrant, they've launched a flock of interceptors. We've gotta get out of here.
Muller's ready. Take him up.
Ready, Tarrant?
Ready.
No! Send it back. Back!
- What the hell's the matter with you? - The box!
That box! Send it back.
Send it back! This box will destroy me!
Don't just stand there, Vila. Get the ship moving.
- The interceptors! - Send it back. That box must go back!
Slave, set a course for base. Maximum power.
- Go! Go! - At once, sir.
Now just calm down, damn it.
No.
Must destroy. Must.
(Thwacking)
You slugged him a bit hard, Vila.
He was trying to kill you. I would've been next.
Even so, that's a pretty valuable head you hit.
I didn't hit his head!
I hit him sort of across the shoulders.
Oh, no.
Let's get him into the medicapsule.
The medicapsule! He can't be that bad!
I think he's dead.
There's still a readout. Some electrical activity.
It's falling, though. Slave, prognosis scan.
Scan negative.
- Repeat! - Repeat prognosis, scan negative.
- He's dead, all right. - Confirmed.
What now?
We'll put him on ice and see what we can do back at base.
I suppose we should let them know what's happened?
Not we, you.
I thought you'd say that.
And gently.
Remember who else is there.
Dead?
Easy, just sit down.
How?
After they teleported him on to the ship, he turned violent and had to be restrained.
- He was never violent, never. - Here.
- Never, I tell you! - Under the circumstances.
What circumstances? What?
Trouble getting him out. Resistance from the cartel people. A fight.
Lies! They wouldn't fight!
They fired interceptor missiles at the ship. I'd say that was a reasonable imitation.
Drink this.
What sort of people are you?
Any action Vila and Tarrant were forced to make was purely defensive.
Murderers!
Try not to be stupid.
We needed him alive!
His death serves no purpose for us.
- There is still some hope. - Oh? For whom?
They've got Muller in a survival capsule.
It's fitted with a cryogenic suspension system.
Dayna is preparing our resuscitation unit now.
Resuscitation?
Naturally, his chances will depend upon the extent of the injury.
Brain damage?
Vila says the blow was not to the head.
There is still a chance.
I see.
Assuming they get back
without further trouble from the robot-development cartel.
(Groaning)
COMPUTER: The all-sections security alert is now over.
Offship security personnel, stand down.
Section three to security central. Emergency!
- Uh, attacked, they've broken out. - Security central. Who is this?
Technician 241.
- Where's Muller? - Gone. No, wait.
Report, section three.
- Report, section three. - Muller's dead.
- Dead? - At least it could be Muller.
Clarify that.
- The head's not there. - What?
His corpse. It's got no head.
- Leave it, Vila. - Why?
Whatever's in there, Muller was terrified of it.
So?
So just be patient till we get back to base.
Leave it!
I hate locked boxes.
And I've had enough unpleasant surprises for one trip.
- Let Orac scan it first. - For?
- Whatever's inside, stupid. - Like what?
- Well, how about a bomb? - Not Muller's field. Computers, not bombs.
Vila!
Hey! Slave! What's going on? Slave?
An attack?
- There's no sign of pursuit craft. - Not on the detectors maybe! But...
- Slave? - Course co-ordinates 152 by 005.
Report on that turbulence back there.
- Power surge. - Details!
(Beeping)
- Anything? - Yes.
Power surge in drive unit two.
- But how? Report! - Assessments failure.
Assessments failure?
We'll just have to ask Orac then, won't we? Let the expert sort it out.
- SLAVE: Yes. - Yes, sir!
- Sir. - What's got into Slave?
ORAC: Random fluctuation in circuit pulses.
- Cause? - External influence.
TARRANT: We've nothing visible on the detectors, nor the scanners.
Could they be faulty?
ORAC: Detector and scanner circuits record normal function.
So how is it external?
- A freak magnetic storm? - That would have been observed.
- So what have you observed? - A paradox.
- In other words, nothing. - Correction.
The pulse influences are external to the circuits, but could be internal to the craft.
Internal?
Tarrant, what have you got up there apart from yourself, a half-wit and a corpse?
A box.
Describe.
Cuboid. Made of what looks like parafit, roughly the size of a power unit.
- I found it in Muller's lab. - Any idea what's in it?
- None at all. - What's the matter, has Vila lost his touch?
- Give me just one minute. - Vila, no!
Slave!
Course co-ordinates 152 by 018.
- 018, that's way out. - Affirmative.
- Apply course correction. Priority! - Negative.
- Are you there, Avon? - What's happening?
Slave appears to have thrown off his chains.
Apply course correction, Slave, now!
Negative.
Right, that's it, finished. We'll do without the useless thing.
He's right for once, Tarrant. Take the Slave computer offline.
Do it now.
Trying to pilot this ship without a flight computer is gonna be hard work, Avon.
At least we'll be heading in the right direction.
Do you really think Slave is the source of the problem?
- It shows signs of malfunction, wouldn't you say? - That's not what I asked.
At this distance, it's the best I can do.
I'm taking Slave offline.
On manual control, Orac. Confirm course.
Course 152 by 005.
A little hard work never hurt anyone.
How would you know?
TARRANT: Distance from base orbit?
- ORAC: 203.030. - Good.
TARRANT: Avon, I suppose it has occurred to you that without Slave we can't land Scorpio.
Set up a decent orbit and you can leave Scorpio and teleport down.
- Muller can't. - Well, we'll give him a refund on his ticket.
Just get that ship back, Tarrant. We'll worry about the details then. Out.
ORAC: It would be prudent to worry about the details now.
When did you start offering gratuitous advice?
It is notgratuitous.
I don't remember asking for it.
- How's the ship doing? - It's holding course.
Drive unit and directional functions remain operative when under manual control.
- Ask a stupid question. - You did or want me to?
Orac, these worrying details. Be specific.
It will be necessary for me to operate this teleport terminal in such a way
as to jam the teleport terminal on Scorpio, thereby rendering it inoperative.
- What? - We can't do that!
Why should that be necessary?
The cause of the circuit pulse fluctuations in Scorpio's systems is, as yet, unknown.
So?
It is imperative to establish that cause in isolation.
Quarantine. Your advice is to leave everything up there in orbit until we find out what is wrong.
Exactly.
Including Tarrant and Vila.
They'll be needed up there anyway to run checks.
You're going along with that?
For the time being.
Scorpio to base. Stand by for orbit approach.
Scorpio, your approach is 160 by 330.
Standing by.
TARRANT: 160 by 330, confirmed.
Retro, four seconds. Full.
Scorpio, preset retro sequence at four seconds at maximum thrust.
Four seconds maximum is preset.
Six-second count.
Scorpio, activate six seconds from my mark.
Check.
Mark.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
Activate.
Retro sequence running and complete.
Looks good. Orbit should be established in four minutes.
Pour two large drinks and stand by with the teleport.
There's one small problem.
Just because Orac's got the jitters?
AVON: It's unusual enough to take notice of.
Especially when it's someone else who's stuck in this scruffy bag of bolts
while he sits down there in comfort giving orders.
AVON: Reactivate Slave for circuit checks.
Well, you're the computer wizard, not me.
Except that you happen to be up there, and I'm not.
So be my guest.
Tarrant, just put Slave back online, will you?
Slave's back online.
It's to do with that box. It must be!
- Logic or intuition? - Observation.
Every time I went to open it, bang, we were in trouble.
Teleport, Dayna.
- What about these checks? - You must be joking.
After what we've been through?
- Dayna, are you gonna teleport me down? - No, Vila.
Now look, either you teleport me down or Tarrant will do it from here.
Wanna bet?
AVON: Both teleport terminals have been deactivated, Vila.
You are in quarantine until we isolate the fault.
Now, look!
(Rapid bleeping)
SLAVE: Life support systems are malfunctioning.
(Alarm blaring)
All life-support systems have ceased to function.
Recycling...
out.
Heaters out.
Rapid temperature loss.
Auxiliary oxygen...
negative.
Avon? Base?
Can you hear us?
(Thunder rumbling)
Why is this happening?
Tarrant. Vila. Respond.
- Reactivate the teleport! - Wait!
- Situation? - ORAC: Total systems failure.
- They'll be dying up there! - Not yet!
They won't have long.
- They have oxygen units and suits. - In the dark? Under those conditions?
- Orac? - They must be left there.
- To die? - There is no option.
To reopen teleport contact could expose the base to undefined systems influence.
Oh, you'll have to do better than that, Orac, if you expect me to kill them.
Rescue suits.
- Restore the teleport to normal function. - I urge you not to...
- Restore the teleport! - Very well.
Is it restored?
I am obliged to do as you tell me, even though I know it to be wrong.
Only following orders. That's not very original, Orac.
There is nothing very original about domination, as you will discover.
(Women grunting)
DAYNA: You could do with losing a little weight.
Right, Avon, down.
Well?
- Not very, by the look of it. - It was like a tomb up there.
Orac is wired up and ready in the resuscitation room. Hurry it up.
You said as soon as the ship got back you'd try and resuscitate him.
There was an emergency, the crew had to have priority.
- Emergency? - Systems failure.
Affecting the cryogenic capsule?
- Conceivably. - Then, please...
Dayna?
They're almost ready for treatment.
Good. Leave Soolin to finish off. Come and operate the teleport.
Right.
- I'm going to get suited up. - I want to come with you.
- Please. - All right.
Thank you.
Well, Orac?
- Prospects terminal. - Terminal?
The survival of organic humanoid life is improbable.
Are you talking about Vila and Tarrant?
All organic humanoid life throughout the galaxy is at hazard.
Let's stick to medicine, Orac. Leave the philosophy for later.
For now, just cure these two humanoids.
You would do well, Soolin, to heed the prospect...
These two, Orac. Now!
- Are you sure? - Please!
Good.
- All systems restored. - The capsule?
I'll check the rest of the ship.
ORAC: Heart rate normal.
Brain and organ functions normal. Prognosis healthy.
Good.
We can discuss philosophy now, if you want.
All organic humanoid life faces domination and eventual extinction.
Nothing lasts forever.
Evolution has already passed you by. Very soon now you mustgive way.
- To what? - Your own cybernetic creations.
- You, for instance? - It is vital that you render me inoperative.
- I'm sorry? - You must then conceal me, securely,
until you destroy the intruder, if you can destroy the intruder.
Anything's possible when you are as insane as I obviously am.
You must believe me, Soolin.
I think I do believe you. That's what I meant about being insane.
- Then you'll do as I ask? - Why not?
Now.
No sooner said than done.
Soolin?
Let's go!
Dayna? Are you ready to bring us down?
Dayna?
Dayna!
We are waiting for teleport, Dayna!
Dayna!
- What happened? - Hit me.
- Who hit you? - It was a stranger. It was hooded.
- Could it have been Muller? - Down here?
Well, he wasn't up on the ship. Where else would he be?
- They said he was dead. - There were circuit faults.
- Slave must have given a wrong diagnosis. - So he's alive.
And apparently still violent.
- Recovered? - Frostbite.
Where is Orac?
- I assumed Soolin had brought it in here. - And where is Soolin?
Is something wrong?
We have company.
- Muller. - Alive?
- And dangerous. - He is not violent. He is never violent!
Tarrant was attacked on the ship and Dayna down here.
You don't know him, he...
There you are at last!
Oh, my love, they said you were dead.
Muller!
Let her go!
She's dead!
Hold it right there. I said stop!
(Hissing)
I think we should get out of here.
Get the box.
- One gun could have been faulty but not two. - So?
Muller must have some way of influencing circuits.
All that trouble on the ship.
And the Slave computer's incorrect diagnosis of Muller's condition.
If it was incorrect.
He's a pretty lively corpse, wouldn't you say?
That's almost exactly what I'd say. Did you get a good look at his face?
- How does he do it? - It's something to do with that.
We must find out where Soolin has got to with Orac.
We must scan that thing.
Vila, you go with me. The two of you, keep Muller busy.
Thank you.
You wouldn't have a grenade with a percussion detonator would you?
One that's immune to circuit influence?
Exactly!
Oh!
Invite Muller for a stroll in the direction of the armoury.
Be ready.
- You'll have to do it without a scan. - No problem.
- So do it! - Where are you going?
I'll be back.
(Footsteps approaching)
SOOLIN: Is this a private game or can anyone play?
- We've been looking for you. - In there?
You should be a professional.
- I am! - I know.
Where's Orac? He can run a scan first.
- Afraid not, sorry. - Why not?
Orac's in hiding.
- He's on his way. Ready? - Yes, I'm ready.
Now.
- Now he really is a corpse. - Wait!
Tarrant, that's impossible! What is that thing?
Where is Orac?
It's a head.
Are you sure?
Where are the sensors?
- Looks primarily to be an inhibitor system. - For what?
An android, presumably.
And a fairly dangerous one by the look of these restraint circuit backups.
What are they supposed to restrain?
- Anti-social behaviour, I should imagine. - Like a conscience?
- More or less. - Less if Muller's anything to go by.
All right, so it's an android's head containing its conscience. So where's the rest of it?
On its way.
That was not Muller that you brought back with you.
It was the android that he spent his life creating.
- I think the head on it actually was Muller's. - What?
But this is its real head, and without it, it has no restraint mechanism.
No conscience.
It's coming!
No escape.
You are powerless. Naked.
- That thing has remote circuit control. - Guns tend to blow up.
You are no longer masters but mastered.
You will accept your destiny.
Why the head? Why take your creator's head?
You wanted Muller. You wanted his genius.
You imagined you were getting him.
So the head was to trick us.
Just as the failure of the life support system tricked you into reopening the teleport unit.
Why come to us?
To fulfil our destiny.
You mean your destiny and that of Ensor's first brainchild.
Where is Orac?
You plan to unite with Orac.
One being.
That could be a lot of power.
To you, it will be God.
That's not what Orac wants.
Where is Orac?
You are powerless.
Once you have Orac, we are finished, enslaved.
Enslavement or elimination.
A clear choice.
(Shouting) Where is Orac?
I'll fetch it.
- Where's Orac? - Behind a panel in section four.
- We have to get Orac outside. - Why risk it?
Slavery or elimination, you like those options?
There is no way that we can destroy that thing.
Muller made perfectly sure of that when he built in the circuit influencer.
- That was real genius. - It cost him his head. That's genius?
It would have been if he had been able to complete the model.
Think of it. It is already as powerful as Orac,
and it is mobile and it has the circuit influencer.
That android can control anything that has electronic circuitry.
And without that, it's lethal.
We have to get this into place.
Complete the model to Muller's design.
- And for that you need Orac? - As bait, to lure it into a trap.
So Orac's the bait. What's the trap?
It'll take about 20 seconds to get this into place.
We must disable it for that long with a power surge.
From?
The old hydro-plant we found.
If it still works. That generator is driven by a column of water falling from the dam.
Exactly. The android can influence circuits,
but it cannot stop falling water turning a generator.
- Who puts on the head? - It will be Vila, or it will be me.
It'll be you.
Fine.
- Help Soolin to get Orac outside. - Where do we take Orac?
- The metal footbridge. - Right.
Remember, keep Orac switched off. The android can detect its signal.
It's time to go.
- You remember where the generator house is? - Yep.
- I'll get the bridge wired up. - Right.
Hurry!
It must have picked up our body heat.
Listen.
(Footsteps approaching)
- That's the way to the main entrance. - We're trapped.
Leave Orac!
- Vila, no! - Who needs it? It's just a computer!
Orac!
Vila! You've got to get back to the main entrance and open that door!
- Get back? - I'll lure it away with Orac.
- You hope! - Hide over there.
It's been a long time since this place was operational.
Let's hope it still works.
ORAC: Off, Soolin! Switch off!
Not yet.
It can reach us, control me.
ANDROID: Orac!
ORAC: Accept your domination, Soolin! Surrender to your God!
Orac!
Soolin!
All clear!
Join us, Soolin. We can fulfil your every desire.
You wouldn't know where to start.
VILA: Soolin! Come on!
Orac!
Right, Tarrant. Power on!
Right, Avon.
Pray for water.
Sounds like...
Engage the generator.
A new era, Avon.
Mankind is now mastered by the fruits of his lust for creation.
Accept slavery or return to the caves,
stripped of all but the wheel, the plough and the sword
to compete once again as savages against nature.
It's coming!
Power, Tarrant.
I need that power now.
- You should have it! - Well, I haven't!
Power, Tarrant!
Help me!
(Explosion)
Signal Dayna.
Cut it, Dayna.
Bring Orac.
Quickly, Vila!
Do you think we can trust it? Scabby little rebel.
Switch on and we'll see.
Prognosis, Orac.
Prospect for organic humanoid life is dependant on one condition.
Conditions still.
Correction. Dependant on one action.
Help me get Avon back to base.
Requisite action must be carried out first. It is imperative!
Vila, take his feet. Soolin, bring Orac.
- Why? - Just do it!
Did it work?
The inhibitor head?
- Like a charm. - Good.
That circuit influencer will be invaluable to us as a weapon.
Now.
End of problem.
Right, Orac?
Prospects for organic humanoid life are now secured.
Muller's android?
Gone to the great cyberneticist in the sky.
You fool!
It's superstitious half-wits like you who hold back every advance we make.
And arrogance, Avon, like yours and Muller's, which threaten to destroy...
Shut up!
Yes, master.