All language subtitles for Quatermass.And.The.Pit.1967

Hey, hold it. Whoa. Whoa!

Here, look at this.

- Why, it's a skull.
- You mean off some dead fella?

- It looks like stone to me.
- Hey!

Look at those dead eyes.

- Get a load of those gnashers.
- Eh!

Hey! Careful with it. It's a fossil.

It may be worth money, you know that.

I've known things dug out
that have fetched a fortune.

Ah, nix. Right!

Come along now, please.

Unless you're passengers or press,
keep the entrance clear.

Come along now, please.

The London Transport people very
sensibly ordered all work on the site to cease.

And, at that point, the Nicklin Institute
was called in and we started digging.

We made our first dig about there, you see,

and that's where Square Five is now.

- We think that's another scapula.
Huh?

A shoulder blade. How is it, Miss Judd?

It seems to be better than the others.

There appear to be six bodies here at least.

Now, if you'd all just step up this way.

What's that?

Don't worry, gentlemen,
the train won't come through here.

No rails.

Now, gentlemen, this little press conference
hasn't entirely met with official approval.

Uh, may I say that?

The fact is I need your help.

In the last two days,
my assistants here have done wonderful work

and we've unearthed a lot of valuable stuff.

- Valuable?
- How valuable, Dr Roney?

To science? I can't tell yet,

but I do know this is one of
the most remarkable finds ever made.

Now, what I want to say to you is this...

The London Transport people
have halted their extension work

for the next few days.

But it isn't days we need here, it's weeks.

I know, and you all know,

they'll soon be under pressure
to start again, to stop wasting public money.

That's where I need your help.

Tell the public why
we should be allowed to stay.

Dr Roney,
what actually makes this find so remarkable?

These fossils prove, I firmly believe,

that creatures essentially resembling mankind

walked this earth as long ago
as five million years.

Isn't that much further back
than has been supposed?

- Yes. A good deal.
- That's tremendous.

Can you actually prove it?

No, not until I've got every scrap of evidence
out of here and made full tests.

It's just my personal conviction
based on what we've found so far.

And what actually have you found so far?

Parts of two skulls,
fragments of upper and lower limbs.

Gosh! And can you actually tell what these,
what, ape men looked like?

Hardly, at this stage.

Yes, I think I can.
At least I'm prepared to take a chance.

Uh, Bert. Excuse me.

This is my attempt at a reconstruction.

The modelled parts show
what we've found up to now,

filled out with imaginary flesh.

He wasn't very big. He had the face of an ape.

He had a big brain and he stood like a man.

- Miss Judd.
- Miss Dobson, what is it?

I've struck what seems to be a buried pipe.

What we must have now is time.

We've got to get public support

or there'll be tube trains
running over this site,

bones and all,
before we can get everything out.

Whatever it is, it's big.

- A main water pipe perhaps.
Not here.

A sewer then?
That would be awkward, wouldn’t it?

Good thing I wasn't using a pickaxe.

There shouldn't be anything.

Dr Roney.

- Anything wrong?
- You'd better have a look.

There is just one possibility.

- Good morning. This way please, Captain.
- Good morning.

- This is Dr Roney.
- Where's the bomb?

Here.

That's right, tear it all up!

What would you say it was, sir?

Uh, looks like a big one.

Maybe a Satan.

Yes, sir, except I've never
seen a Satan with bumps.

Mmm.

Strange.

Won't hold.

No ticking.

Odd though.

The mike doesn't stick, so it can't be steel,
and there's no corrosion of the surface.

Feel it.

We'll dig down a bit.
Let the dog see the rabbit, mmm?

Corporal Gibson, two men with shovels.

Right, Sergeant. All right. Webster, Jenkins.

Right, Sergeant, five minutes.

Five minutes.

You know, I don't think
this is any kind of metal.

Then what, sir?

Captain Potter, can you tell me yet
how long this is going to take?

I realise it must be difficult.

Look, sir, I advised you to leave.

Yes, I know.
But you'll appreciate I have a special interest.

- How long would you say?
- I don't know, yet.

You're a young man. You can't possibly
have had the wartime experience that would...

I should call in a second opinion. Is that it?

- Well, yes.
- Well, don't worry. I intend to.

GM2.

Just a moment, sir.

It's for Colonel Breen.

Oh, I'll take It. Scrambler?

No, it's blue. It's clear.

Hello? I'm afraid
Colonel Breen is not available.

What's it about?

A bomb?

But surely you realise
he's no longer connected with...

How big?

Good God.

Give me the details.

I'll get the message to him
as soon as he's free.

What is there to argue about?

The purpose is quite clear.

Colonel Breen, my Rocket Group

has been intended all along
for peaceful scientific research.

Professor Quatermass, your Rocket Group?

Yes, mine.
I brought the whole thing into being.

But it is, after all, a government project.

And now the government
has had a change of policy.

Change of policy!

You're going to take it over
and pervert it to this... This...

Listen. Within 10 years,
there will be permanent bases on the moon,

perhaps even on Mars.

- Military bases.
Of course.

The present world situation
makes that quite clear.

Whoever plants them first will be able
to police the Earth with ballistic missiles.

So, we must be in the race.

Well, of course.

The ultimate weapon. It always is.

Gentlemen, don't you see?

We're on the edge of a new dimension
of discovery.

It's a great chance to leave
our vices behind, war first of all.

Not to go out there dragging our hatreds
and our frontiers along with us.

Frankly, I'm surprised and disturbed

to hear such naive views
still being put forward...

- Naive? You've lost touch with humanity.
- There is nothing to be gained...

You've been shut away too long
in this ivory fortress of yours.

That's your trouble.

Well, he'll be out of it soon.

Colonel Breen is joining you
at the Rocket Group.

- What?
At the end of the week.

I think you'll agree that someone
with experience of military rockets, missiles,

will be of considerable value.

I'll fight this right at top-level!

I shouldn't. It came from there.

It'll work out. For the good of the Group.

And now, gentlemen, if you'll both excuse me,
I have another meeting.

Nose to the grindstone.

I won't resign, if that's what you want.

Of course not.
I'm sure we'll get along quite well.

Why not have dinner with me? My club?

Come.

Oh, I can't possibly... Who's this from?

Oh, I see.

Do you ever find your early career
catching up with you?

I never had a career. Only work.

What was yours?

Enemy missiles.

Do you mind stopping off on the way
for a couple of minutes?

Lead on, please.

Captain Potter, sir.

- I hope you didn't mind my...
- Any sign of the mechanism yet?

None, sir. We've found this cavity,

but there's only impacted clay inside.

- Stand down for a moment, Briggs.
- Yes, sir.

Any guesses?

- Possibly a German V weapon.
- Why?

A flying bomb? A V-2 Rocket?

- It's not either of them.
- Obviously.

But they weren't the only surprises
they cooked up in the war.

There were more than anyone knew.

- Sir!
- What is it?

I don't know. It may just be a stone.

It's another one of them skulls.

- Corporal.
Sir.

- Is Dr Roney still here?
- Yes, sir, I'll fetch him.

It's a skull.
- Let me see.

- Thanks.
- Who is this man?

- Potter, is he attached to you?
- No, sir, that is...

Let me go! Thank you.

Don't you know?
Dr Roney's the man of the moment.

This place is news.

He has no business here now.

Hasn't he?

Thank you. It's absolutely marvellous.

Oh, it's magnificent!

Better than anything we've got so far.
It's almost intact.

- Intact?
- Yes, yes.

This proves everything. It's all I needed.

- No, no, leave it to me.
- You might drop it. It's slippery.

- Drop it? Not on your nelly!
- Here.

How do you think it got inside there?

Oh, it was here in the clay,

when the missile struck,
it got rammed through.

Unbroken? A fragile fossil?

Dr Roney, my name's Quatermass.

Are you one of these bomb experts?

- Not exactly.
- Miss Judd here will look after you.

How do you do?
- Hello.

I've got to get
this skull under treatment.

That skull seems remarkably well-preserved.

Yes, isn't it? Far better than the first.

What do you think protected it?

Huh? Oh, it was inside the... Inside that...

Good Lord!

I was so concerned just now, I didn't realise.

It was inside. That's no bomb.

Whatever is it?

How old is this fossil skull?

About five million years. It could be more.

Excuse me.

And these are all the Civil Defence records
of the area?

- That's right, sir.
- Yes, sir.

- Breen, I'd like a word with you.
- Just a moment.

Now, you're quite certain?

There were no HE bombs
on the street above here, sir.

Just a few incendiaries,

and they only did damage
because the houses were empty.

Empty?

Evacuated. Thank you, Sergeant.

Come on, Potter.
Let's have another look at this thing.

Excuse me, sir, but that's not quite right.

Oh? Why?

Those houses were all abandoned
years before the war.

- What on earth for?
- Well, people just wouldn't live there.

Some kind of scare.

- Scare?
- Superstition.

A lot of nonsense, I dare say.

There, that's done.
Now, I do think you ought to get a breather.

The air's terrible down here.

All right, but just for a minute.

These are the houses, sir.
Or what's left of them.

- They really are derelict.
- Mmm.

Give me that torch, will you? Thank you.

I must warn you, these buildings aren't safe.

Nevertheless...

I've been reckoning it up.
They must have been empty 40 years now.

- Are you a local man?
- Yes, sir.

- Do you remember what happened?
- Yes, I do.

Oh, it was in all the papers.

Of course, I was only a nipper at the time,

but I knew a kid
that lived in one of these houses.

Things got so bad they had to clear out.

What got bad?

Noises, bumps, and even things being seen.

You mean ghosts?

I said it was
a lot of nonsense, sir.

But, you know how these tales run wild
once they get started.

Those marks. What could have made them?

Kids, sir.

Kids playing around made 'em.

Sorry about that, sir.
Must've been a bit warm inside there.

Yes. Thank you.

Everything in order?
Yes, sir.

Ah, Quatermass, I've decided
to stay on this case for a day or so,

- if you're agreeable.
- Of course.

You go back to the Rocket Group.

I'll join you there later.

As a matter of a fact, I'd like to hang on, too.

- If you're agreeable.
- As you wish.

I've arranged for an extra squad
to work all night.

The entire missile
should be exposed by the morning.

- Can I?
- Oh, no, thanks. I'll find my own way.

Sorry about the dinner. Some other time.

Miss Judd!

We'd better get down
and give your boss a hand.

He'll be expected to get his gear away.

Hob's Lane.

They've changed the spelling.

New one's like Hobbs the cricketer.

But the old one...

Hob was once a sort of nickname
for the Devil.

Oh, Quatermass, come in. Come in.

- Well...
Hmm.

Our daily work. Business as usual,

no matter what happens at Hobbs End.

- Electronics?
- We don't just dig with trowels, you know.

Not all the time. Would you like some coffee?

- Thanks.
- Have you had a cup, Mr Johnson?

- Yes, I have, thanks.
- Don't nod.

Mr Johnson's kindly obliging us
for some tests.

You see, some of his skull dimensions
happen to match

those of our friend here
who died in the second ice age.

- I'm real primitive.
- We all are, Mr Johnson.

- Now, are you ready for another run?
- Yes, sir.

Right. Recorder on.

Oh, Mr Johnson,
proceed with this puzzle, will you?

That hook up, something special?

It can locate
the minutest areas of the brain.

We take readings and analyse them
in the computer here.

We're gradually building up a picture

of what that ice age man
might have been able to think and do.

The Roney Analysis. I like it.

I'm hoping to apply it next
to the Hobbs End skulls.

Of course, they're so much older.

They'll have even fewer points
of resemblance to...

Well, to Mr Johnson, but we hope enough to...

Roney, were they of this Earth?

Ah, I see. That's what brought you here.

Were they?

I'm sorry to disappoint
but the answer's only, "Yes, they were".

They were earthly creatures
as much as you or I.

They were our remote ancestors

but they themselves had ancestors
going back as far as 30 million years.

Well, how can you be sure?

They fit into the known pattern of evolution.

The only odd thing about them
is the great size of the skull.

I've got it all charted somewhere.
Where the devil does she keep everything?

Your Miss Judd?

Yes. I told her to take the day off
and get some rest.

Well, I must be getting along.

- To Hobbs End?
- Yes.

Look, I can't seem to lay my hands on it
at the moment.

I'll show you next time, for what it's worth.

Next time, I'll have a lot more questions.

Yes. They're piling up, aren't they?

- Are you coming?
I've been told to keep out of it.

Your colleague doesn't like my face.

- Colleague?
- Your Colonel Breen.

- Oh.
- Anyway, it's mutual.

I'm sorry, Quatermass,
he's a type I loathe on sight.

Full marks, Dr Roney. Well, it's a long story.

I'll tell you sometime.

Ah, Professor Quatermass.
I've something to show you.

I thought you were taking the day off.

No, I was having these made.

I'm sorry, I'm due at the excavation.

Please read these first.

- Photocopies.
- From old newspaper files.

"May 19th, 1927.

"Hob's Lane spook.
Figure that walked through a bedroom wall. "

Why did you do this?

Well, you seemed curious, too, last night.

I've slept on it since.

Look, read this one.

"The figure was small," said Mr Parker.
“Like a hideous dwarf. "

No, my dear, we're both scientists.
We simply can't pay regard to stuff like this.

- The supernatural!
- Professor Quatermass!

"August, 1927.

"Curious crowds at Hob's Lane
became so large

"that work was held up
on the new underground railway station. "

Station. That's when they built it?

They were digging near the same spot.

Ah, good morning.
- Good morning.

You've been busy.
You've cleaned out the inside.

- Yes.
- Find anything?

- Only impacted clay.
- Nothing else?

No, it's been cleared inch by inch
and finally hosed out with water.

- So far, it seems to be just an empty shell.
- Hmm, let me see.

- Now, just a minute.
- What's going on?

A test.

All right, Potter, that's got to be enough.

- No effect, sir.
- There's got to be.

I don't understand that at all.

The heat's been on that for a full five minutes
and it's not even warm.

Do you want to try again, sir?

No. There's no chance of
cutting a hole through that.

We've found what seems
to be a sealed compartment.

What?

You'd better put some gloves on, sir.

Why?

The sergeant's got a touch of it, too.
Like frostbite, mild though.

Thank you, Sergeant.

- From touching this?
- I don't see how, sir.

It's not cold, but...

What's this?

Oh, it's only our pump.

We had a bit of a flood
when we washed it down.

Careful! It's like glass in here.

I see. Blocked right across.

Yes, sir.

So, unless it's solid,
there's something on the other side of that.

It could be a warhead.

Says Colonel Breen.

- Hello, what made these marks?
- Marks?

Not us. This stuff's harder than diamond.
We've tested.

Well, there seem to be...

Have you got a cloth?
Something to wipe it down with.

- Good grief!
- They form a pattern.

More exactly, they form a pentacle.

One of the cabalistic signs
used in ancient magic.

I suppose I'd better mention this
to the colonel?

No. It wouldn't fit in with warheads.

Sergeant, get this pump
out of the way, will you?

Sir. Right. Two men to shift the pump.

West, inside and clear the hose.

Look sharp, West.

Resistant to heat of 3,000 degrees.
Harder than diamond.

Why, it's the material
every rocket engineer's been looking for.

What are you trying to say?

That the Germans didn't make this
and then lose the secret.

You ask Von Braun.

If I can get through that bulkhead,
I won't need...

Try Borazon.

It's a lot harder than diamond.
Can you get hold of a Borazon drill?

It would mean getting hold
of a civilian operator.

West!

It was... It was a figure.

It went through.
It went straight through the wall!

I saw it! I saw it.

Horrible. Horrible.

Is he ill?
He may be.

All right, West. Take it easy, lad.

I thought it was the wall shining
and then it came straight at me.

- Horrible!
- Come on.

Westie's got the horrors.

- What did he see, sir?
- Nothing. The confined space affected him.

A man like that
should never have been on this job.

- Now pull yourself together, West.
- Sergeant, that's not the way.

- What did you see?
- I don't know.

You... You said a figure.

Yes, sort of crooked.

It went straight through.

Here.

It was horrible. Horrible!

With its head tucked underneath its arm?

Oh, shut up!

I did see something, sir.
I did, honest. It was little.

"The figure was small, like a hideous dwarf. "

Yeah, that's it.

Here, what made you say that, miss?

How did you know?

It's all right. Here.

Get him away from here. He'd better go sick.

Yes, I'll write a note to the MO.

Captain Potter,
he'd better not talk to the other men.

Come on.

Do you mind?

Normally, I don't before noon, but...

Thanks.

Is that pump clear yet?
Yes, sir.

- Get rid of the oxyacetylene cutter.
- Sir.

Don't make any attempt to drill that bulkhead
until I get back.

- Where are you going?
- To find something out.

May I? I think we should follow this up.

"Alarming noises and spectral appearances.
September, 1763."

Listen. "Our informant further states

"that grievous sounds
emanating from the very earth

"have so affrighted certain fellows
employed in the digging of a well

"that one is like to die mad. "

Digging a well?
Do any of the others mention that?

Not so far.

Stories, wild rumours.
They believed in those days.

I suppose it's possible for...

For ghosts, let's use the word,

to be phenomena that were badly observed
and wrongly explained.

Listen.

"One inhabitant of Hob's Lane doth assert

"he hath oft espied the apparition
of a hideous goblin.

"And once, several. "

"Several"?

"And that this place is long notorious
for weird happenings. "

Where next?

The archives
of Westminster Abbey, I think.

Uh, "In the winter of the year 1341,

"the religious of that region

"did strive against

"an outbreak of evil at Hob's Lane. "

Oh, please go on. My Latin's not up to it.

Yeah.

"Imps and demons did appear.

"Foul noises

"sent by the Devil

"did sorely afflict

"the charcoal burners
that had lately come there. "

- Charcoal burners?
- Yes.

Yes, yes, that's right.

They'd be felling trees.

Big, heavy ones.

In 1763, a well was being dug.

In 1927, the underground station.

And now the extension.

All disturbances of the ground.

"This has well been known
as a troubled place.

"It is said that, in the time of the Romans... "

I'd better go.

- I beg your pardon?
- Oh, I have to leave now,

but Miss Judd will stay on.

Find out everything you can.
Then collect Dr Roney.

I think he should be in on this.

Uh, many thanks.

Hang it on the grille there, Sergeant.

Ah, Professor,
I've orders to let no one down there.

- What's he doing?
- He's got that drill set up, sir.

The one you suggested.

I asked him to wait.

Powered from this, I suppose.

Yes, sir. Better than the public supply,
just in case.

In case it blows up?

That's why he won't let
anyone down there, sir.

Oh, very considerate of him.

Oh, I reckon this little beauty
would cut through anything.

I did steel armour plate with it.
Six inches thick.

Just like that.

Oh, it was legal.
The bloke got shut in a strong room.

But I got him out.

It was a secret job, like this one.

Then I'm glad you don't talk about it.

Ah, Quatermass.

Breen, I think we should hold everything
for a time at least.

I can explain.

We're going ahead now.

Hello, Potter?

Right, sir.

All clear!
- Right.

You can get clear if you want to.
There's still time.

Welcome aboard, mate.

Have they started?

That's it.

Do you know what's inside there?

Are you insured? I'm insured.

It's a good thing to be insured.

At least, it cheers you up.

Okay, sir?

Right, here we go.

Try again.

Try once more.

Get back!

The generator, knock it off!

It wouldn't... It wouldn't...

The best thing.

You're shaken up. We all are.

It was the vibration in there.

Some sort of freak vibration. Must have been.

- All right, Sladden?
- Hmm.

The drill, it wouldn't work.

Roney, this sound, everything here,
just like the old accounts.

- Did she tell you?
- Yes.

- And there's a pentacle drawn inside there.
- What?

See for yourself.

As soon as you can.

Thank you, Sergeant.

I'm all right now, sir,
if you want to have another bash.

- Good man.
- Breen, wait.

We ought to have time to consider this.

I have.
We'll blanket down the sound with sandbags.

I've ordered them down.
I will cover up the polished surface.

But it isn't as simple as that.

Quatermass.

I thought you said the drill had no effect?

Well, I never made that.

What? But you must have.

I can't have done.

That's much bigger than my drill bit.

It doesn't look as if it was drilled at all.

Looks more like melted.

All right, Sladden, get out of here.

Look out!

The demons.

Wait!

It's all right. They're dead.

They've been dead for a long time.

What are they?

Whatever they are, they're decomposing fast.
This is a job for you, I think.

Yes. Barbara!

Phone the Institute.

Tell Klein... No, there isn't time.

Just tell him to keep everybody standing by
for the biggest job they've ever had.

Phew! The stench! It is like rotting fish!

Or locusts.

I don't think I dare wait.
They're corrupting so fast. Potter!

Catching up on lost time.

What do you mean by that?

They were sealed in there
till our atmosphere got in a few moments ago.

Filthy London air.

They might have stayed unchanged for a year,

or a million years.

And as quickly as you possibly can.

Yes, Doctor.

What is it, sir?
- Explanations later, Sergeant.

They want planks and empty sandbags.

- As many as you can find.
- Right, sir.

Give me a hand.

- I can't guarantee my stomach.
- Steady.

Easy now. Got him.

Oh, my God.

Throw down something to put this on.

And a sandbag.

Easy.

Take it up to the platform, will you?
I'll fix it there.

Don't just stand there. Give a hand!

Hold it level. It's leaking.

God.

- What is it?
- They don't know.

Where can it go?

Oh, there.

I'd better take a photograph of it.

- What are you using?
- Number Four sealer.

- Is it safe?
- I'll have to risk that.

If I can just save the shells
and some body fluids for analysis.

These shapes suggest some kind of

apparatus, instruments.

- Your imagination is running wild.
- Isn't yours?

What?

They don't seem to lead through anywhere.

If there were once any
external propulsion units,

I don't see how they were controlled.

Unless...

Unless the missile itself
did some of the thinking.

You're mad!

This substance isn't inert. Far from it.
We know that.

Don't tell me what I know!

There's been enough nonsense talked
about this... this thing.

Dead for millions of years!

I know the smell of death, believe me,
and how short a time it lasts.

- Have you got an explanation for all this?
- Yes, I have.

Then why not share it?

When I choose.

Gauze, quick!

I want you to get some photographs
of the compartment they were in.

- Of course.
- It's all dropping to powder.

Soon, there'll be nothing
to prove we ever saw it.

Do you classify them as insects?

Arthropods.

Nice, general term,
covers all the crabs and spiders, too.

Except that no Earthly ones
ever had that tripod leg arrangement.

The horned demons in those old prints.

- Roney, this image...
- Rather pretty.

It's like a gargoyle. I mean, in fact.

Haven't you seen it carved in walls
in a dozen countries?

Hidden in the depths of all our minds,

a race memory.

Got it!

Look at this.

A cave painting of 30,000 years ago.
A man in a ritual mask.

I wonder where he dreamed up
the idea of that.

Thanks.

Hmm.

You know, I think these are old friends
we haven't seen for a time.

Weight and structure point
to low gravity environment.

A thin atmosphere.

Perhaps a world that's dead now,

but a few million years ago
could have been teeming with life.

I wonder.

A name that's been nearly worn out
before anything turned up to claim it.

Was this really a Martian?

I'm sorry. The Institute's closed.

It's the same round the main door.
They got us in a state of siege.

Miss Judd, can you do something about this?

Get Dr Roney to call 'em off,
or we'll be needing the police.

I'll see what I can do.

And there were how many
of these ape creatures?

Seven. Well, six at least we found.

Apes with oversized craniums.

Some faculties had developed in them,

or had been developed.

What?

The will to survive. It's an odd phenomenon.

Roney, if we found
that our Earth was doomed,

say by climatic changes,
what would we do about it?

Nothing. Just go on squabbling, as usual.

Yes, but if we weren't men?

I'm sorry to interrupt.

Is it possible to give out
a statement of some kind?

The crowd outside's getting huge
and a bit ugly.

Are those the photographs you took?

Yes.

Right. Let's show them.

Good idea.

"The discovery
might have some astounding implications,"

added Professor Quatermass.

But, for the moment,
he could not say what these were.

You can't go down there, sir,
but you can read all about it.

Professor Quatermass, sir.

The Minister's waiting.

He's not pleased.

Hello, Minister's Office.

Good afternoon, sir.

Professor, what you've done appals me.

It's the PM's private secretary.

Sorry, still not available.
Try again in 20 minutes.

Now, it's the PM and the Home Office

badgering about cordons
and special police action.

Kill that thing!

Sorry, the Minister is not available.

Now, before they pull
a special cabinet meeting on me,

I should like to have just a few answers ready.

How much do you know?

Something from Colonel Breen and

what I've read in these.

- Why did you do it?
- People wanted to know.

So you talked.
Without authority or consultation.

Whose authority?

This department's.

It didn't seem to me to concern
the Ministry of Defence.

We'll see about that.

Now,

"Astounding implications. "

Cut that off!

No more calls till further notice.

What did you mean by that?

Dr Roney and I are satisfied that
these arthropods are not of this Earth.

So I gathered.

You've been busy hinting at Mars.

Mars is dead.

Nothing there but a few scraps of lichen.

Five million years ago
it may have been very different.

Suppose, at that time,
there were living beings on it

with techniques that enabled them
to visit the Earth.

At a time when the most
highly-evolved creatures here,

our own ancestors,

were only a type of Pliocene ape.

Go on.

They may have wanted
to found another colony

when their own world was doomed,

but couldn't endure our atmosphere.

- So they experimented.
- Experimented?

The man apes found beside the missile
were abnormal.

Oh, and the insects were responsible.

There's clearly some connection.

My guess is that those were ape mutations
being brought back for release on Earth.

And you really believe
that this was possible?

That apes were systematically taken
from this planet to another and...

Altered by selective breeding,

atomic surgery, methods we can't guess.

And returned with new faculties
instilled in them.

High intelligence.

Perhaps something else.

In effect, a colonisation.

It'd be a way of possessing the Earth.

Only a colony by proxy,
but better than leaving nothing at all behind.

Surely, it would have had to be carried out
on a huge scale?

Yes, if I'm right...

If I'm right,
we've just come on a single instance.

Probably an accident,
a landing that went wrong and they all died.

The Thames Valley was swamp then.

You realise what you're implying?

That we owe our human condition here
to the intervention of insects!

I suppose I am.

So that's your great theory?

And for that we've had all this splutter
and alarm and...

Well, at least we can let the Home Secretary
off his beat now.

- Get him?
- Yes.

I wanted to hear you first.

Ministry of Defence here. Howell speaking.

- Give me the Home Secretary.
- Breen, tell him.

Tell him!

I told you I had an explanation.

The Germans in 1944.

Breen, you can't be still hanging on to that.

Professor Quatermass.

You are an expert in certain fields, I in others.

One of my specialisations is weapons,
and another, military propaganda.

So, kindly allow me my opinion
without interrupting.

I think that when the Germans
were losing the war,

they tried a propaganda scare.

They sent over an experimental V weapon

in order to produce
exactly the effect it has produced,

thanks to your help.

Though, a little late for their purpose.

- And what about the arthropods?
- Fakes.

Put there as a circumstantial touch.

Like fairground mermaids,
made up of old scraps of skin and bone.

It's the oldest trick in the business.

Hello, John.
- No, sir, wait.

You must hear expert testimony.

I have. Is that missile safe?

Thoroughly checked.

No danger to the public?
- None, I'm certain.

Hello, John?
I'm sorry you've been led such a dance.

It's all over now.

Well, it was nothing but a gigantic false alarm.

Move along. Move along.

This is an official statement.

In spite of incorrect news stories
published earlier,

the missile found here is believed to be
a German propaganda weapon of the last war.

It has now been dealt with
and is not dangerous.

Repeat, there is no danger.

A full statement will be issued shortly.

Now move along please.

Inspector, can we go down there
and take a look?

Tomorrow. It'll be wide open
to all you boys then.

Press, TV, the lot.

These bloody sacks.
Couldn't we have forgotten them, Sarge?

No, Army property, very precious.

Well, you might have let me know
you were packing up.

I told you, I was only round the caff.

Very sorry, sir.
I didn't want to interrupt your tea break.

Oh, that's all right, my man.
I'll overlook it this time.

Well, I'd better get my stuff out then.

Hey, come off it. My tool box.

- Bloody Army!
- Right, let's go home.

Uh-oh, where was Moses
when the lights went out?

In the flippin' dark.

Excuse me.

Uh, sorry, miss.
The station's closed till tomorrow.

But I must go in. I left a microscope
and a box of slides down there.

There's only the emergency lights left on now.

I won't be a moment.
Please, I must have them.

All right, miss. I'll wait for you.

Thank you.

Hey, what's going on here?

Hey! What's going on?

Professor Quatermass? He's in here.

Hello, miss.

Hello.

- Have you called a doctor?
- No.

When I heard those sounds,

I asked Mr Edwards, the choirmaster,
to go and to dismiss the choir.

I knew I must stay alone with this man.

I felt sure he had been in contact
with spiritual evil.

I'll have to question him.

Perhaps tomorrow.

No, there may be danger, in waiting, to others.

Sladden?

Can you say what happened

tonight in the excavation?

You remember being there?

Well, you stayed to dismantle
some equipment.

You were hurt by something
flying through the air.

Do you remember objects doing that?
Moving by themselves?

I had to run, to get away. They were coming.

Who? What were?

Them. Them!

No more, please!

I remember
it started and then I could only see them

like you found down there.
With the eyes and horns and...

He saw the creatures.

And they were alive!

Alive?

Hopping, like very fast,

and hundreds and hundreds!

And I knew I was one.

How did they move?

Jumping, leaping.

- Let him alone!
- Where?

In and out. Them big places.
In and out of them.

Oh, huge! Right up in the sky!

The sky? What colour is it? Blue?

No.

Dark.

Purple.

You should have left him alone.
He isn't free of it yet.

- Perhaps it was always in him.
- What do you mean?

In all of us.

An inheritance of dormant faculties.

Clairvoyance, telekinesis.

Scientific terms to explain it all away.

On the contrary, I agree with you.
What's been uncovered is evil.

As anciently diabolic as anything on record.

I think what he gave us just now

was a vision of life on Mars
five million years ago.

That and the unconscious ability
to cause movement.

They're old powers that can be awakened
somehow by the thing in the pit.

Shouldn't we tell the Ministry? Warn them?

They wouldn't listen.

We're going to need proof.

- Have you the keys to the Institute?
- Yes.

Good. We'll work from there.

Is that the Rocket Group?

Right. It's Quatermass here.

No, no, no.
This is Professor Quatermass speaking.

Now put me on to Mr Watson.

I know he's in bed. Just stir him up.

What's all this about?

Oh, thanks for coming.

I'm afraid I've been grubbing about
in your workshop already.

There's something we can do.

Oh, Jerry? Well, wake up.

Now, listen, I want you to bring
some gear to London right away.

The special video signal stuff.

As follows. Yes. Now, better take notes.

Well, Jerry?

Not a sausage.

No wonder, after bumping the stuff
over half the roads in the country.

It's delicate.

Miss, are you sure we're still
locked on to those settings?

Quite sure. The signals
are still coming through here all right.

I'll check the positive feedback.

Maybe it's Roney.

What do you want me to do?

Ah, just go to sleep. You've been
saying for hours how tired you are.

You should have got our friend Johnson.

You can practically read his mind
without gadgets.

Are you still hopeful?

He thinks it might work.

Your apparatus to locate the brain centres,

ours to translate signals.

If it does, you're...

You're going to try and repeat
what Sladden went through?

Experimentally.

You said these faculties may be in all of us.

Poltergeist outbreaks. Second sight.

They've been recorded the world over,
throughout the ages.

Myths, magic, even witchcraft.

Perhaps they all came from there.

So as far as anybody is,

we're the Martians now?

The unconscious vision centres.

Better shut the grille.
Keep any nosey parkers out.

When the light flickers, switch off.

Right.

It seems to draw energy from any source.

But more so from that generator.

Perhaps by induction.

Hold still a minute.

Right.

Now you'll do exactly what Sladden did.

- Once the generator goes off, I use this.
- Yes.

Now, back here for you, my dear.

But if there's anything to photograph...

It'll keep. Right.

Now then, let's get a true reading.

All signals spot on.

- Hmm. When the generator cuts...
- We run on the batteries.

No, I mean, when it cuts,
there may not be much time.

I see.

Ready?

Not a thing showing, not a damned thing.

But it's started. Listen to it down there.

- Shh!
Roney!

I'm getting no visual impression.

I'll try a bit longer but I don't think
it's operating through me.

Quatermass, try...

Did you get that?

- Yes, yes.
- Wait.

- Now.
- Yes, Quatermass.

It's getting too much for me.

We're not getting you. Shout louder.

I'll have to come out of here.
It's getting too much for me.

I'm coming out!

Let me.

- I can see.
- Barbara!

Quatermass, what's happening?

Roney, it's Barbara. She's the one!

Get down here, quick.

I can see.

Try this.

I can see. I can see!

I can... I can...

I can see.

She's getting something!

Hold me!

Hold me! Hold me!

You're all right. You're all right. Well done.

Well, did you manage to get it?

Yes. I saw them too, on the monitor.

Good. I think now we may have something
to show Colonel Breen.

What you're about to see is a memory.

Stored for millions of years
in the very substance of that hull,

and now picked up by the susceptible brain
of this young woman here.

Highly receptive, like the man Sladden.

- More than most of us.
- And what do you claim this will show?

A race purge.
A cleansing of the Martian hives.

Tape ready?

Yes.

Most curious.

Those were like the creatures you found?

The same.

You saw that they were killing
and being killed.

I think we may have witnessed
ritual slaughter,

to preserve a fixed society,
to rid it of mutations.

Good heavens!

That's the way they lived.

And it's the way they intended
their substitutes on Earth to live.

Not again!

My concern is, sir,
that this stored memory of killing

should be coupled with another power
that thing in the pit seems to possess.

The power to redirect human energy.

A power to...
Into force beyond control.

- Nonsense!
- Well, we've all felt it.

- You have yourself.
A few vibration effects.

Now, now, gentlemen.
There's no need for this.

We're looking for rational explanations,
and there is one.

This truly remarkable apparatus of yours

was surely set to detect,
was it not, hallucinations?

Hallucinations. Exactly, sir.

All right, then, call it a mental image.

Now this young lady
certainly has an imagination

and she's overwrought.

She's seen the creatures
that Colonel Breen insists are fakes.

So, what could be more natural than...

No, sir. You mustn't dismiss it like that.

You prefer that I dismiss
Colonel Breen's theory?

But if you'd been there,
if you'd witnessed it all!

Professor Quatermass, I don't believe
that you're right in this matter.

You are ridiculously wrong.

You're going to admit people
to the excavation?

Yes, tonight.

The press, radio and television.

No, sir. You must not!

My duty now is to quieten public alarm.

And you, up to now a government officer
with the same duty,

you'll keep your damned paws out of things!

There's a heck of a lot of stuff down there.

Far more than I expected.
All those lamps and TV cameras.

Our generator will take all the load
they can put on it, don't worry.

The cameraman want to take
some shots inside the thing.

Can you fix them up?

Light the inside? Why not?

I'll get them to run out a further extension.

Right.

And the West German Federal Government
has kindly agreed to make a further search

of existing wartime records
with a view to finally identifying this missile.

Copies of
Colonel Breen's statement

are available for those who haven't one.

Now, before we take you down
to see for yourselves,

any questions?

Yes. Are you sure it's safe?

Quite safe.

Any more questions? Otherwise...

Yes. I've got a question.

Is Colonel Breen just a fool or a coward?

What do you mean by...

- How...
- Just one second.

Professor, I thought
it was clearly understood...

Is the Colonel afraid?

So afraid that he resorts
to the thinnest rationalisation?

I say what I know to be the truth!

Well, tell them what you've seen down there.

Potter, you were a witness. You tell them.

Sir, we found...

My mate, he's in there!

Potter, be careful.

It's safe. The power's been cut.

I didn't mean that.

- What happened?
- He had the live cable.

He must have slipped!

Right, stand back, please.

Keep clear! Stand back!

He's dead.

It was an accident.

I couldn't help him.
There was nothing I could do.

- I know.
- He was fixing the junction box.

All right, all right!

- It was an accident.
- It may not have been.

What did you say?

Are you trying to make out it was my fault?

Get those lights on!

Hey, put the breakers back in.
Yeah, all except the line to the hull.

What's she doing there?

What is it?

It's coming alive.

It's glowing.

I don't see anything.

I did. Before the lights came on.

Breen, you've got to send
everyone out of this place.

What, just because there's been an accident?

No, there's some new activity
starting in that thing!

Listen, I'm advising you all to leave.
There may be grave danger.

What's the matter? What's wrong?

Well, you've seen what's happened
to the electrician, haven't you?

Gentlemen, gentlemen,

the official arrangements
will proceed as planned,

whenever you are ready.

And now we're taking you over
to Hobbs End Underground Station.

Three streets away
and we got to see it on the telly.

I tell you,

people don't believe nothing nowadays
unless they've seen it on the telly.

Edgar, do you believe in these Martians?

Be your age, Kitty.

Good evening. I'm standing just a few yards

from where the mysterious missile was dug...

Colonel Breen, perhaps you should...

I'm sorry. Something's wrong here.

Now they've gone and mucked it up.

Funny noises.

Vision on sound that's all.
Have another drink.

Yes, I will.

I'm sorry, something seems
to have gone wrong with our vision.

You must get away from here.

I tell you, this could be dangerous. Get back!

Get back!
Constable, get these men back from here.

Get back! Get back!

What's he doing there?
Constable, get that man out of here!

Stop panicking! Pull yourselves together!

For God's sake, don't panic!

Got to make a report.

Sir! You must get away from here. Sir!

Quatermass! Quatermass!
Don't you know me?

Roney.

That's better.

Go on, sit down.

Here. It's no way to serve decent whisky,
but we're a bit low on glasses.

Now get that inside you.

You stopped me?

That's right. I stopped you.

You were being carried along,
so I thought I'd better.

Were they... people?

What?

Of course they were.

- Don't you feel it?
- Feel what?

- Here. Anything?
- No.

Perhaps some are immune. Some few.

I...

I was just leaving the Institute,
I heard shouting in the distance.

It was what I was afraid of.
The thing got a huge intake of energy.

The very substance of it
seemed to be coming alive.

And then...

Then you can't see this world any longer!

It's like that now?

No, not so bad now.

Quieter.

Was there anybody left there?

Breen.

It's changing. I can feel it.

It's getting stronger.

Quatermass! No!

Quatermass, no!

It's taking possession of you.

Fight it.

Fight it!

Can you hear what I'm saying?

Think, man, think.
Use your brain. Your memory.

Keep hold.

Yes.

My name is Bernard Quatermass,

professor of physics,

controller, British Experimental Group.

At present, engaged in...

Engaged in...

I wanted to kill you.

I could have done without moving.

Without trying.

I knew that. And I would have done.

Why? Did you know why?

Because you are different.

I could feel that. You had to be destroyed.

Destroyed.

Listen!

Animals! They're killing the animals.

No, not only animals.

This is the image that was buried in the hull.

The compulsion to preserve their colony.

Destroy all that didn't belong to it.

Draining the whole energy of London
to turn it into a Martian colony.

They can't possibly, after so long.

They can. I can feel it. See it. See them.

Resist it. You must!

Come on. We've things to do
that maybe nobody else can.

It's the Devil. The horned Devil.

Don't look at it!

Over there.

Mass into energy.

The focus of all that's happening.
The cause. Oh, God!

God!

What can we do? Roney, what can we do?

Mass into energy. The fundamental law.
It must be.

- What?
- The Devil’s enemy was iron.

It might make sense if it were possible
to project a mass of metal into it,

connected to the ground.

Discharge it to the Earth?

- Yes.
- No, it's too simple.

But it's what they'd never allow for,

even that scrap of knowledge
in minds that were free to use it.

That crane.

I'll try.

- No.
- Yes!

You'll have to go round and stop her.

Huh?

You'll have to go round and stop her.

Barbara!

Roney!

Roney.