All language subtitles for Scorpion - 2x04 - Robots.HDTV.x264-DIMENSION.en

All right, now explode,

full power.

100%.

That is 100%.

PSI of those jabs
is averaging 129.

On the power scale, that's...

Kitten. Sad kitten.

Left up

and sting it.

Speaking of sting,

Chet again.

And an a.m. drop-off.

See you again tonight?

Sure thing. Thanks for the lift.
Yeah.

What's wrong
with your bike?

New clutch is on back order.

I know we've
both moved on,

but she's parading her new fling
right in my face?

She's just

so cold and mechanical.

You want to distract
yourself from her,

then grow a set and focus.

There you go.
Now you're getting it, kid!

Hello?
Excuse me.

Can we help you?

Deputy Homeland Director
Katherine Cooper.

Where is... Molina?

I'm Scorpion's
Homeland liaison now.

Deputy director.

Downgrade.

She cutting our funding, too?

Your funding is intact.

She just doesn't want
to... interact with you,

because of the
prior... interaction.

She wanted to leave me

to die

in a jail.

She's easily alienated.

You seem edgy.

Why are you so edgy?

I'm not edgy. I'm just...

I'm pressed for time,

and I have
a classified mission to assign.

And it smells so bad in here.

Is that... intentional?

That is Toby.

Because
this is

a black operation,
my information is need-to-know.

Walter O'Brien, Cabe
Gallo, Happy Quinn,

- join me in my SUV.
- Hmm.

You heading north or south?

Ooh,
eye flutter

on “south.”

Huntington,

Long Beach, San Pedro...

San Pedro it is, meaning water.

The ports.

A frigate?

Can we leave now?

And you can only take three
of the team,

so space is an issue.

A submarine.
It's a submarine, isn't it?

Anyway,
Homeland needs

Scorpion's help for a black-ops
nuclear submarine mission

deep in international waters
off the coast of California?

Ooh.

They'll be needing me

to code?

I'll get my laptop.

And I will be
building something,

so I'll get my tools.

And I will get
my party hat

because I don't have
to go on a submarine.

And I'll be going

to keep anyone
from wanting to kill them.

Welcome to Scorpion.

I'm still reading an edge.
What's up with that?

You just disclosed details
on a classified mission.

I just need to know that
you'll keep this confidential.

What's confidential?

Who's this?

Uh, he's, um, my...

my friend.

Hey, buddy.

He's using

my mug.

He's staying here?

You need
to get...

Mr. Saigon
out of here.

Things are dicey between
Scorpion and Director Molina,

and you can't
afford any more...

issues.

Walter, we never discussed
Ray staying in the Airstream,

and he doesn't present a
professional image, so...

You got to go.

For the good
of the team.

Okay.

Just need to get the Grem
out of lockdown

and then...
on my way.

I'll take you to the lot.
Sweet. Thank you.

Actually, if you could drive
my car back, I would...

appreciate it. They won't
release a car in the impound lot

to someone with
a suspended license, which...

I don't even understand that.

Oh, this just keeps
getting better.

That's your new friend,
and you're just gonna kick him

to the curb?
Just like that?

Yes.

I am surrounded by robots.

Now that we have some privacy...

We don't. I'm on comms

with the team.
We'll stay that way

on the sub,
piggybacking on the antennae.

Fine. But...

under no circumstances

will you disclose the location
of the sub once you're on board.

The Navy insists

that remains classified.

50 bucks I can figure out
their exact location anyway.

You want to bet?
It's a bet. We got a bet?

You have a serious problem.
No duh.

We're going to San Pedro

to ferry you out
to a special ops nuclear sub.

The mission is to
analyze a Vulture,

an ocean floor
data hunter,

attached to
an underwater fiber optic cable

on the floor
of the Pacific Ocean.

Attached by whom?

Not yet determined.

But the device is
tapping a highly secure

line between the United States
Department of Defense

and the Chinese government
in Shanghai.

Happy, we need you to build

an extension
to the submarine's arm.

We'll use it to tap a cable
from Walter's computer

into the listening device.

Walter, you'll hack
into the device's mainframe

and identify
whoever is intercepting

our communications.

Welcome aboard the XB-4.

I'm Captain Steven Jones.

This is Ensign Nathan Hall,
our Bullgeorge.

He'll be looking after
you riders during this mission.

We have eight other crew members

in the Forward
Operational Compartment.

Ballast tank, trim tank,

reactor control,
turbine control.

It's gearhead heaven.

And all highly classified.

What you see here
stays here.

This mission is top secret.
No one outside of Langley

knows our objective or location.

Captain, we're
rigged for dive.

Very well. Take the Conn,
submerge the ship.

I have the Conn!

Ahead
two-thirds.

Dive, dive, dive.
Five-degree down bubble.

Make your depth 200 feet.
Come left to course 270.

This, uh, crew is different

from most of the military
we have worked with.

We get 18 months of training

before ever seeing
the inside of a sub.

A lot of us here
are nuclear engineers.

It makes the hierarchy
a little different

from the rest
of the military.

We do have a saying,

"When hundreds
of feet below,

the power goes to he who knows""

Or she.

Or she.

Zing. Happy.

Great use
of her humor programming.

I need to check on the crew.
Give me just a second.

Walter, what's your speed?

Uh, I estimate
about 20 knots.

My lunch.

It's conveniently shaped.

And our best way
of figuring out their location.

They left
San Pedro

at 8:25.

Roughly 20 knots
for 30 minutes.

Sub would head
for closest, deepest water.

That would be right off
the Palos Verdes shelf break.

Putting you 15 miles

east

of Catalina Island.

Miss.

Ah.

See, I don't
like the mojo

of playing Battleship
with an actual battleship.

It's not Battleship.
It's Battle Sub.

32 degrees north...

117 degrees west.

Point Loma?

Call that a hit.
Walter,

I'm gonna sink
your battle sub.

Please, don't harm the...

...pickles.

Hey, we're dark.

No outgoing communication.

Half my team's
on the mainland.

They will be the only half
not incarcerated

if information is leaked.
Your orders

to disallow communications
are illogical.

Toby and Sylvester
are part of this team.

I have my orders.
You have my instructions.

And you will

follow them.

I think Captain
just Crunched their comms.

I'm picking up bits and pieces,

but I can barely make anything
out.

Follow me.

I thought they were supposed
to be working with us.

Military protocol doesn't
have a lot of flexibility.

Let's say we
toe the line.

I still can't make anything out.

This cancels our bet.
No bet. Bet off.

Whatever. I'm just trying
to enjoy my off time.

♪ To the left, to the right ♪

♪ It's just like, it's just like ♪

♪ A mini mall, hey, hey... ♪

You got to be kidding me.

Ma'am, it's not my problem

that your husband doesn't pay
his parking tickets.

He is not my husband.

And $1,200 is $1,100 over

the value of the car.

I'd counter that you can't put
a price on the value of a home.

Just a few forms
to fill out.

Pen.

I'll handle it.
Cool.

Let's see
if you're worth your salt.

The rods and clamps I affixed
to the main jib

will act like the arms of
an arthroscopic surgery device.

Extending now.

We'll use the camera

to find the communication port

on the listening
device.

There.

Not bad.

Access port exposed.

Happy, connect the cable.

And we're in.

Uploading their interface.

Toby calls us robots,
but, tell me,

what's more fascinating
than a robot?

Oh, he endlessly
analyzes feelings,

Sylvester is a mess of feelings,
Paige helps us sort them.

But without the metal gears
of the machine, it doesn't run.

I guess my role
is to kick

the machine when it starts
talking and doesn't focus.

We've analyzed
the exterior

construction of the device--
Swiss metalwork, Dutch wiring--

but no clue
as to who put it there.

I'm in the main interface.

I thought this would take
an hour at least.

Why are you stopping?

That seemed a little too easy.
Happy,

detach the cabling
for the device.

Aye, aye.

What are you doing?
We're in the middle

of a mission, damn near the end.
My instinct says

that this is a dummy interface,

a lure to draw us
into the system

to plant some malware

onto your sub

or something worse.

Worse like what?
Aborting the mission

requires a direct order from the captain.
Then get it,

fast, 'cause I have a feeling
we want to be as far away

from that device as possible.

Walter, tell me
what's happening.

Sir.

Whoa.

♪ Hey, hey, don't stop ♪

♪ Let's make it a dance,
come on now... ♪

Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Turn that down. Listen to this.

Flooding... engine room!

Something's wrong.

Come on, Happy. Not funny.

I told you we shouldn't
have played Battle Sub.

Reactor's scrammed.
We've lost propulsion.

Lost depth
control.

Prepare for impact!
We're gonna hit the ocean floor!

♪ Scorpion 2x04 ♪
Robots
Original Air Date on October 12, 2015

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

Is everyone okay?

Fine.

Good.

How did this happen?
There was an explosive device

on the Vulture to keep it
from being hacked or captured.

We need to do
a vessel diagnostic.

I'll help. Electric has failed.

Engines have failed.

We're settled
at a 40-degree angle.

Well, the size of the blast
was likely enough to flood

the compartments between here
and the rest of the crew.

Communications are out.

And my team doesn't know
where we are

because you killed our comms.

It gets worse. The Navy
won't know that we're missing

until we don't arrive
at our rendezvous point

in six hours, and
for security purposes

only the people on the submarine

know the course
that was charted.

Thank God they're alive.

"Electric down.

"Trying to get the hatch open.

We're compromised."

"No generator."

No oxygen system.

The shared ventilation
system provides

all of us with roughly
150 cubic feet of oxygen.

Divide that by 13,

each consuming 1.5 cubic feet
of oxygen per hour,

we have one hour and ten minutes
of oxygen left.

I'm a Marine--
I spent a lot of time on a ship.

You have immersion suits
down here for underwater escape.

Uh, we do,

but not in this
compartment.

Then we need
to get a message out.

Where's the communications
panel? Maybe I can fix it.

No, we're supposed
to be running silent.

I believe our directive
has changed.

The communications?

In the bow,

past that bulkhead.

Let me go check.

We're gonna need all hands.
All hands.

Happy, come in.

XB-4, come in.

Yes, I'm here.

I don't care
what meeting she's in.

Tell Director Cooper
there's an emergency.

Giving me the runaround.

Then run around her.

We're gonna go see
this Cooper.

Your car is in the shop.

That was painful.

This whole experience has been painful.
Odd.

Most people who come
in here are real upbeat.

There you go.

Your keys.

You've got good news for me,
right? I've won the lottery?

Wrong. Where are the keys
to your car?

I need them now.

They're in my purse.

Then you need to go
to Cooper's office right now.

I'm gonna explain later,
but Cabe, Walter

and Happy are in
serious trouble.

Okay.

Where the hell is he?

Ray! I got to go!

Oh, God.

Hey, they got doughnuts
in the break room.

Paige?

Okay.

The water is freezing.

Yeah, well, at this depth

the temperature
can't be more than 28 degrees.

You have an interesting
breadth of knowledge.

The entire system

was shorted in the explosion.

I've circumvented a number
of blown circuits to see

if there's any way
to bring this back to life.

Okay, Cabe,

on my call, hit the
breaker on the wall.

Go.

We good?

We are not good!
Keep it out

of the water,
or we're all dead!

That was close.

It's fried.

We have zero communication
with the surface.

The only way
we're gonna find them

is if we pinpoint
their location.

Before they went dark,
we had Point Loma.

Walter said
they were at 20 knots.

I'm saying good guess.

This is an arc
representing

35 minutes, 22 knots
from Point Loma.

We don't know exactly

where the secret
underwater cable is

that connects
the U.S. and China,

but if it follows
a similar route

to the Trans-Pacific Express
cable...

And there's...

a very rough guess as to
the whereabouts of our sub.

With a bite taken out of it.

Oh... God.

Yeah, I'm here.
What do you have?

The rough coordinates

for Cooper--
I'm texting them now.

They're saying the sub
has listed too far.

The silt is blocking
their port hatch.

They can't get out.

Ask them from now on
to keep it to good news only.

I will not suggest that
to the captain.

So they have the escape
suits in their compartment

and no way out, and we have
a way out but no escape suits.

Even if we did have
the immersion suits,

it's doubtful we could survive
in water this cold.

You'd have ten minutes before
severe hypothermia set in,

and that's if you
made it to the surface.

Which is highly unlikely, given
that we're 300 feet down.

What's the depth rating
of those survival suits?

225 feet.

Here.

There seems to be

some kind of plan forming here,
and as commanding officer,

I'm the one who should
be making these decisions.

Well, I thought the power
goes to he who knows.

And we know how to build
one of those suits from scratch.

You just listed all the ways
that it's certain death.

Sitting here is certain death--
what we're talking about

is just likely death.

I should volunteer then.

I'll go.

I'm the biggest
and most immune to hypothermia.

You know if you leave,

there's a good chance that
you die before any of us.

I'm the most expendable.

I can't risk Happy and you.

And you know the sub.

Greater good.

Greater good.

The Navy isn't going to send

a rescue

unless the sub misses
its rendezvous

or there's proof
of failure.

The Navy has
absolutely no evidence

there's anything gone wrong
with this mission.

We were in communication
with the sub when it went down.

Well, I told them that.

They're of the opinion

your team was listening in
on an illegal signal

that just happened
to break down.

Nothing to warrant
a rescue mission.

My people are smarter
than your people.

I have coordinates for
where the sub might be.

You don't want to
wake up tomorrow

knowing you could have helped
save 13 people who died

because you followed the rules.

I feel like the Michelin Man.

Okay, Cabe, once you reach

the surface...
You have one cartridge.

Parachute flare--
visible

for 30 miles.

When you get help,
get the Navy to send

a Deep Submergence
Rescue Vehicle out of San Diego.

Regardless of where we're at,

it'll take at least 150 minutes
to get here.

We'll be out of oxygen.

After you get rescued--

and you will get rescued--
you get this list to Toby.

It's everything they'll need
to make an oxygen tank

they can load down to us.

It'll give us
enough air

to stay alive
until the rescue.

All contingent,
of course,

on you surviving
the ascent.

I hadn't thought about
that for a second.

Thanks for the reminder.

Okay, exhale slowly and
continuously on your way up.

You won't have to worry about
the bends, because the sub

has the same air pressure
as the surface.

Should be a quick trip up.

You'll have ten minutes
from when you enter the water

until hypothermia
and, uh...

death.

Buck up, kiddo. Didn't you
join the Navy for adventure?

He should be breaking
the surface now.

If he's not, he's drowning.

God... please let this work.

If we don't hear from Cabe soon,
one of us will go up next.

No pressure suits?

I don't like the odds
of making it to the surface.

Versus the odds
of death in here?

We have 40 minutes of air left.

I'm two nautical miles
into the search zone.

Haven't seen anything.

They've been searching
15 minutes

and only covered three percent
of the target zone.

Your coordinates cover
50 square miles of open ocean.

It's gonna take a while.

Toby, you got to narrow it down.

We're working
with a half-eaten hoagie

and a piece of chalk.

It's not like
we're mind readers.

What it is like...

is a mini mall.

You have finally gone insane.

No, the video I was watching.

♪ Aw, yeah, come shop ♪

♪ With us ♪

While you were
guessing locations,

I was watching that video.

When you made your
second guess to Walter,

he was singing,
♪ It's just like ♪

♪ It's just like a mini mall. ♪

And when you made your
third and correct guess,

he was saying
living rooms, dinettes.

The time between
those two lyrics

is 14 seconds.

We now know the distance
they traveled between two spots

and how long it took 'em
to cover that ground.

Which gives us their
accurate speed, not a guess.

15.38 knots,

not 20. Walter
overestimated.

Their location is 117.03 west

and 32.05 north.

I'm way out of range
of those new coordinates,

but there is a commercial vessel
in that area.

I'll reach out to them.

Where are you going?

I'm getting us a chopper

and getting us
on that rescue boat.

Help!

Did you hear that?

Cabe.

Oh, that tough
son of a bitch made it.

Thank God.

Sir, phone.

Cabe, we can't believe
you're alive.

We can celebrate later.
If we want to save the others,

we got to work fast.

I need an air tank
the size of a hot water heater,

a winch from a tow truck,

three brass circa 1935-40
electric fans,

a waterproof box,
a GoPro camera,

a 14-inch diameter pipe

and a battery pack.

Real quick-- how did Happy
suggest we get this stuff?

Mr. Quinn.

Fellas. Been a while.

No time to chat.
Happy's in trouble, we need

your help and a load
of equipment.

Starting with the winch
on your tow truck.

We got to move fast.
Paige'll be here

with the chopper in ten minutes.

Chopper?

They don't know
how much longer they can last.

I didn't know
you knew Morse code.

I didn't before I got on
the sub, but I figured it out.

Our time frame for
the oxygen supply

didn't account for the
deeper breathing caused by fear.

I'm ashamed
to say that

my breathing might be
similarly impacted right now.

But somehow...
yours doesn't seem to be.

We're not
military.

We take our orders
from math and science.

Right now we know
the odds of survival are slim,

but we know that mathematically
there's a chance.

Some people
call us robotic,

mechanical.

But in situations like this,

our constitution

is a benefit.

"Still safer than an airplane"?

Why is he
communicating that?

We know subs are safer
because there are

more airplanes in the water
than submarines in the sky.

Why would a submarine be in
the sky? It makes no sense.

Somehow they're
managing to joke.

Humor--

at a time like this--

that isn't something
a captain would normally order.

Not standard
operating procedure.

So strict adherence to protocol
isn't always the best...

tack.

What are you getting at?

An unconventional solution.

Okay.
Uh...

Now, mathematically,
their lives--

yours and Happy's as well--

are collectively
more valuable than mine.

Are the oxygen levels
getting to you now, O'Brien?

If we flood
the chamber

with an exact amount of water,

we can cause the sub
to correct position,

freeing the trapped sailors'
hatch.

Just 18 degrees would be
enough to get the hatch

out of the silt.

The others
have immersion suits--

they could leave via the hatch,
reaching the surface.

This chamber-- the one that
we're in-- is a closed space.

If we flood it
even partially,

the rising water will
compress the air above it.

We breathe in
that compressed air,

we can no longer swim
to the surface like Cabe did.

We'll die from the bends.

We're trapped.
That is right.

We'll need to leave
in a pressurized chamber.

That means waiting
for a sub rescue

that we don't have
enough oxygen to wait for.

That's why we should
make you both improvised suits

like we did for Cabe.
You both leave

and I will flood the chamber.

Nine people escape the boat,

oxygen usage drops,

leaving me
a few more minutes of air.

Anyone could make
the same calculations.

I don't think anyone else makes
that calculation, and you still

won't have enough air to keep
you alive until rescue comes.

In order to flood
this compartment

with the exact amount of water,
you need to close

the hatch, too. That is
a two-person job. I'm staying.

No. I can figure out a way to get it...
I'm staying.

And you'll need a Navy person
to work the locking device.

It's really a three-person job.

Three of us

working together maximizes
the odds of success.

How did my quiet day
turn into this?

Come on.
Time's a-wasting.

When the water gets
to this level,

we close the hatch,

okay?

Ready?

Okay.

One, two...

Damn it! Not good.

That's just what Happy says.

Come on.

Lean into it!

Not smooth, but effective.

I hope so. I had to guess
the silt density.

We're shifting.

Whoa!

It worked!

Their hatch is clear.

"Thank you.

And Godspeed."

I have to agree
that personality-wise

you don't seem too similar.
She can be very, uh, rigid.

She was chatty
when she was really young.

She was talking
in full sentences

at seven months old.
I got her

a dollhouse
when she wasn't even three yet.

She put in her own wiring
with working lights.

I was terrified
it was gonna be a fire hazard.

I... pulled them all out.

Next day,
she rewired it.

Had to take it away.

That's about
when she started getting quiet.

I should've just let her do
what she was gonna do.

You like my daughter, don't you?

I love your daughter.

All right.

Then just let her do
what she's gonna do.

One more
should do it.

Thank you.
You okay?

Honestly?

No.

This is my first day
on the field.

I'm in the middle
of the ocean,

on a trawler,
trying to save lives.

It just might be

too big a first bite
for a desk jockey.

Before Scorpion,
I was a waitress.

Feeling overwhelmed
is part of the job,

but it's a job
I learned I can handle.

You'll learn, too.

Guys?

Yes! Yes!

Either the ocean is lousy
with mermen or those

are our submariners!

Get these men out of the water!

The crew made it.

Hopefully your tank's
on its way, Happy.

So now our lives
are in Toby's hands.

Fantastic.

They're still stuck down there
without enough oxygen.

Three people use six liters
per minute,

seven if they're stressed,
which, of course, they are.

There are 122 liters of oxygen
left, which is 17 minutes,

give or take a few seconds.
Rescue sub's

35 minutes out.
The tank that we made

gives them 45 minutes of oxygen.

If this works,
it saves their lives.

We're hooked up!

Let's go!

Dear God, let this work.

There it is!

My daughter's in there.

In case we don't make it out
of here,

I just want to say

I'm not really a robot.

Thank you for clarifying.

I did know you weren't made
of circuitry.

We both play
a good game of denial.

It might be the one thing
where I can beat you,

but...

...right now my dad is up there
trying to save me.

A man I've been looking for
for 25 years.

I just never expected

to want to live as badly
as I do right now.

I saved nine sailors' lives
instead of us.

I... supported that act

with calculations.

But perhaps
there was...

some sentimentality attached.

And, uh,

you let that certifiable lunatic

stay in our garage.

Uh...

Maybe we're changing.

Maybe...

maybe I'm not a robot either.

You're not normal people,
are you?

Greetings submerged.
Toby Curtis here,

talking to you underwater.

If you can hear me,
open the sub's garbage chute.

We're connecting
an oxygen tank now.

So, if you feel a little bump,
that's just us.

If you can't hear me,
it means you're already dead.

Don't say that.

- Oh, God.
- If they're goners, whatever I say

won't mean a poot.

You're still recording.

Okay, you heard him.
Yeah, let's get to it.

Okay, I don't see
the disposal unit opening.

Come on!

There!

Forward!

Now!

They did it!

I have never been so
happy to smell garbage.

Ah, some nice solders there.
Wiring's not great.

A good sized tank.

Overall, I'd rate the
craftsmanship as pretty good.

Okay, so, how big's the tank?

About eight feet by three feet.

Can we use this tank
as a getaway vehicle?

There's not enough propulsion
with the three of us in it.

The tank would never even
make it to the surface.

It would just sit
there, suspended

about 100 feet
off the bottom.

Yeah, but the tank gives us
298 cubic liters of 20% oxygen.

Should be enough
for about 45 more minutes.

Something wrong?

The-the-the...
the air.

Smells like the fridge
in our garage.

It's sulfur.

I thought it was coming
from the trash, but it's not.

It's coming from
underneath this compartment.

It's lead/acid batteries. The
seawater must have leaked in,

caused a chemical reaction
that produced sulfur.

Ah, the sulfur's
not the problem.

The same reaction
could also produce chloride.

That's the problem.

What are you doing?

Walter's right.

It's chloride.
Okay.

I've been around
enough batteries to know

breathing in that stuff
will dissolve your lungs.

Okay, so, we don't have
45 minutes anymore.

It's more like five.

Okay, sailor,

we're down, but we're not out!

Ensign?
What are you going?

There's a very specific
protocol on this sub.

Self-destruct?

If our enemies capture this sub,

its technology could be used
to kill thousands

of Americans or our allies.

In the event
that the craft is disabled,

the last officer on board has
to initiate the sequence.

But the Navy's on their way.

They'll recover the ship.
Yeah, but what if they can't?

What if they run
into logistical problems,

which is very possible?

What if whoever planted
the device that we came here for

tries to get it
as soon as we leave?

That's why
the protocol's in place,

and that's why
we have to follow it.

What's the maximum countdown
for the self-destruct protocol?

Maximum five minutes.

Initiate countdown.

In five minutes, either

the air fills with
poison, or we explode.

Guess we got to get out
of here in four and a half.

Walt,

we've got less
than a minute now.

This is when you normally think
of something brilliant,

so how's that coming?!

An escape pod.

The oxygen tank could be used
as an escape pod.

I asked for brilliant.

I already told you there's
too many bodies for buoyancy.

We're just sit gonna
there in the water.

Yeah, normally we would, but
in our present circumstances,

we're likely to be propelled
upward from the blast.

You really think

we can ride the explosion
of this submarine?

Yes.

Maybe. I don't know.
Or we die.

Okay, look, get
up the trash chute

and into the tank.
Come on, Happy, let's go.

Go. Go.

It's not gonna be comfortable.

Okay, you go.

I need to make sure
the ship goes down.

So you're gonna rigidly adhere

to the rules even if it
costs you your life?!

It's my duty.
Your duty is to save

as many lives as possible.
That includes your own.

Okay? Okay?!

Okay, okay. You first.

All right.

Okay.

Come on! Come on!

I don't fit!

Come on.
Okay, just relax.

Relax? Why?

It's an out-of-the-box solution,
and it may sting a little.

Aah!
Yeah.

Aah!
You can fit through the hole now.

Oh!

All right, Happy,
get us out of here.

Just reversing the spin
on these fans!

Any way we can go any faster?

No. Now shut up
and brace yourself.

Just talked
to the rescue sub.

Ten minutes out.

Oh, no.

Happy.

Cabe, tell me this
didn't just happen.

Hey, dummies!

A little help?!

They're alive.

Thank God.

Couldn't have done it
without you, desk jockey.

Good work, fellas.

I just wanted to
say, uh, thank you.

You know, you're
a... you're a hero.

Well, I'm not a hero.
It's just math.

I don't know. One thing
I've learned about you is

you don't always
live by the numbers.

Sometimes you trust yourself,
believe in your team

despite the numbers.

There's another
variable in there

that you're not copping to.

Hey.

Let's go downstairs.
I want to show you something.

There he is. Big Ray!

Where you been?

I just hitchhiked from Gardena.

- Whoa.
- Yeah, I guess

I'm not normally a person
people stop for, so...

Ray? Hi.

Hey.
I'm...

Excuse me, fellas.

Ray, I'm sorry I ditched
you this morning.

We... It was an emergency.

Not a problem. In fact,
I saved you a doughnut.

Here.
Oh.

Still hungry.
I just...

Thanks. Um, how about I,
um... I get you a burger?

Please sit. Yeah?

A burger?
Want to sit down?

Yeah, sounds great.

Makes up for a 22-mile walk.

Sure, it's not as nice
as the one you had, but...

thought you and I could
restore it together?

I'll be your apprentice.

Like the list
you sent from the sub?

I did a good job following
the instructions, right?

It's something
we could do together

with our clothes on.

Do not... shrink me.

And I am not very comfortable

with you having in-depth
conversations with my father.

I'm just making an effort
to be a good friend.

If I tell you
to get me a 3/8 wrench,

and you get a 5/16,
I will hit you with it.

Deal.

So wait a minute.

You're-you're going to
college and you're ten?

I know we've got
our marching orders

from Cooper
regarding Ray.

But... I learned a bit

about following
orders today--

about being robotic is not
always the best course.

Well, despite what Cooper said,

I don't think she's the kind
of person who'd mind.

Ensign Nathan said that he felt
there was a variable within me

that makes me not as, uh,
logical as I think I am.

I'm not sure I agree, but,
uh, I have noticed that

some of my decision-making
isn't the same as it used to be.

I'm trying to determine
what's causing the shift.

Any theories?

Contact with humanity.

It's confusing.

I made a decision today

that saved nine people's
lives by lying.

I always thought that
emotional decisions

might compromise
Scorpion's survival,

but today they
led to survival.

Maybe it's worth,
uh, rethinking

other conclusions that
I've come to regarding

avoiding... emotions.

Mom!

I decided this is the class
I want-- Robotics.

It makes the most sense
to start out

with something logical
and uncomplicated.

I think, uh...

I think he's right.

Robotics is the smart
choice... for now.

Robotics it is.

Uh, but not
for everything.

Ray?

You don't have
to pack up your stuff.

You can stay
as long as you want.

Sweet. Thanks.

Absolutely, buddy.

Wow.

Well, hey,

let's get this party started!

Pardon.
Oh.

♪ ♪

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man