All language subtitles for Night.Gallery.S01E02.1080p.BluRay.x264-PFa-3

A very hearty welcome
to Night Gallery...

and to a collection of art not
found in your average museum.

These are paintings which represent
life, but occasionally death as well.

Case in point: this canvas here.

A bedroom, but with all the
cheer and warmth of a crypt.

Beneath the paint and the patina
is an ingredient called jealousy.

Color it a monstrous green and
call the picture Room with a View.

Good morning.

Six minutes late,

making total
lateness 27 minutes...

and nine seconds
for the week so far.

All this information I'm including
in my will so your next patient...

will have the proper
recommendation.

Mr. B., you're so fussy.

- Isn't it a fantastic day?
- Fantastic. I hope I never live to see another like it.

You'll live to be 200. Have
you taken your pill yet?

Yes. Oh, you have not.

Now, come on. Here
we go. Nice stale water...

Full of germs, bacteria...
To finish off an old man.

I'll get some fresh. I guess
I'm not a very good nurse, am I?

You're a pretty girl. You got
other interests. I understand.

You say to yourself, "I'll be a
nurse for a while. The work is easy.

The food is good. So I'll save
a little money till I get married."

You know, that's just what I said to
myself when Dr. Holmes offered me this job.

You're very smart,
you know that, Mr. B.?

Thank you. You get
old, you get smart.

Tell me. You've, uh,
picked your husband out yet?

Mr. B., that's a very
personal question to ask a girl.

So I'm asking a personal
question. Why not?

I'm the perfect confidant. I don't
speak to more than two people in a day.

Your specialist doctor wouldn't even
let me have a telephone by the bed...

so I could call my
broker once in a while.

So give me a little gossip.
It's like telling a secret to a cat.

- What's your lover like?
- Mr. B., a prospective husband is one thing,

but a lover is something else.

- I can't imagine what you must think of me.
- I think you're a nice girl.

But nice girls today are a little
different than nice girls 50 years ago.

After all, you're only a few
years younger than my wife,

and I know that men like to look at her,
so I know they like to look at you too.

Only today, it don't stop with the
looks. Oh, but your wife is beautiful.

Really. She's one of the most
stunning women I've ever seen.

Good for her. A lot of
pleasure I get out of it.

So tell me about your lover.

Well, it's really not definite yet. I mean,
we haven't set the date or anything.

Yes, you have, but you
won't tell me because you're

afraid I'll fire you before
you're ready to leave.

Oh, no! No, really, Mr. B...

So you haven't picked a day of the
week, but the month you've decided.

Right? Right. Believe me when I
tell you I understand these things.

So what month?

I'm guessing you decided on
June, but you're settling for July.

How did you ever...
How did you know that?

Maybe around the middle of July,

when a certain muscular
chauffeur's getting his vacation.

- Now, how did you ever?
- I got eyes. I watch.

I think. I add things up. What
else I got to do with my time?

He's, uh, gentler than
he looks, your fiancé?

Oh... Oh, he's
wonderful. Really, he is.

You can't tell because
you don't know him,

but if you ever just spent time
with him and sat and talked to him...

I'm looking forward to it.
I'd like to exchange views

on car waxing with him.
I'm very concerned about it.

Oh, really, Vic
is very intelligent.

I don't doubt it. Make sure
he's got a few other virtues too.

A bad marriage is the
biggest mistake in life.

You've got to know what
kind of package you're

getting. Just don't
settle for the wrapping.

Go away.

Good morning, all.

How's our patient
this morning? Terrible.

- Sleep well?
- No.

Isn't he horrid? I don't know
why you put up with him.

For the money... just like you.

Has he had his
blue pill yet? Yes.

No. I was just going
to get some water.

This is fine. He
only takes a swallow.

- Open wide now.
- I can still hold a pill and a glass of stale water.

You don't even look
like a nurse. Where are

you going, all dressed
up like a college girl?

Just into town to do a little shopping.
Oh, Vic has your car all ready.

He polished it this morning,
and it looks just like new.

- I'm sure it does, dear.
- If it's not shiny enough, buy another one.

You know, I was
thinking of doing just that,

but I thought I'd wait until
you're up and around again.

Then we'll get one of those little
sports cars and take long drives together.

I can't wait. But if you're
in a hurry, start without me.

You don't even deserve
that much of a kiss today.

If he stays this grouchy, don't
even talk to him. It'll serve him right.

I'll be back
early. I'll be here.

Lock the door in case
she forgot something.

Mr. B., you know you're
terribly in love with your wife.

Who wouldn't be? I wish I
could wear slacks like that.

Do your husband a favor...
Wear them before you get married.

Oh, Vic wouldn't mind. He hasn't
got a jealous bone in his body.

He likes it when other
men look at me. And how

do you feel about him
looking at other women?

Oh, I don't mind. I mean,
after all, it's only natural, isn't it?

I don't know how we ever got
started talking about this again.

You know, you're
really terrible, Mr. B.

Let an old man have a little pleasure
by talking. What else can I do?

So Vic has got a lot of
experience with women, huh?

It's not even his doing either. I mean,
we were at a bar a few weeks ago,

and this woman... She
was drunk, but still...

She just came right
over, sat down on Vic's lap

and started running her
fingers through his hair.

- So what did Vic do?
- Well, nothing.

I mean, what could he do? He just
laughed and pretended it was a joke.

It was lucky for the woman
that her date pulled her away.

Or else she would've
ended up like Betty, huh?

Oh, I didn't know
you knew about that.

I'm really sorry about it,

but I was just going to the kitchen to get
my lunch, and she had her arms around Vic.

- And I guess I saw red.
- So I heard.

I didn't see it, but
from what I understand,

she didn't look so
pretty anymore, huh?

Oh, I'm really sorry about it. If there'd
been a knife around or something,

I don't know what
I would've done.

I don't usually have a temper
except when it comes to Vic.

Your jealousy is
very understandable.

You have to fight to
hang on to what you have.

You don't think Vic loves
me less because of it, do you?

He probably loves you
more. Men are like that.

Well, I'm tired.

- I think I'll try and sleep for a while.
- That's a good idea.

I brought a new book to read. It's really
terrif. It's all about this Frenchwoman...

who makes a fool
of a lot of kings.

Sounds very good.

Listen. Before you start,
you do me a little favor?

I would do it myself, but...

Now, please,
don't be frightened.

Uh, I keep it in
case of burglars,

but it's been so long since it's
been cleaned, I'm not sure if it works.

So give it to Vic. Ask him
to look it over. Oh, sure.

Hey, it's light. I always thought
guns weighed about 20 pounds.

It's a woman's gun... for women and
old men. Uh, be careful. It's loaded.

Oh. I would take the
bullets out for you,

but I'm afraid I don't know
how these things work.

I'll be careful. Now, you just try
and get some sleep in the meantime.

I will. And you take your
time with your fiancé.

I think I saw him go up
to his room a minute ago.

Oh, I bet he's catching a
nap. Sometimes he's so lazy.

Why don't you sneak up
on him and surprise him?

I bet you he would
like that. Oh, well, if he

doesn't, I'll just tell
him it was your idea.

Yes. Tell him that. Okay.

Good morning, sir. Good morning.

Ech!

Sounds like a car backfiring.

- Shall I butter your toast, sir?
- No, thank you.

There are still some things
I can do for myself, Charles.

For your approval now, a
painting which has to do with time...

Not the brief moments left to
our culprits in the previous story.

Their years of imprisonment
were minute little fragments

compared to the time
we talk of in this picture.

We talk centuries now and what
happens when men from one century...

send back items quite
unbidden to men of another.

We call this painting
The Little Black Bag.

Yes. Director Cosgrove, this is
Gillings, sir. Time travel experimentation.

Uh, Gillings, sir. Time travel.

Department 93,
planning division 3-A.

Yes, sir. Gillings.

Uh, well, we've had a
small problem arise, sir.

Well, we were running through
the third-stage experimentation, sir,

and one of our lab people
inadvertently sent something back in time.

I'm sorry. The question
again? It was a medical bag, sir.

Oh? Uh, sir, it was just a
run-of-the-mill medical bag...

that happened to be
lying around, as I say,

and it was inadvertently
given a tube number...

and placed in a circuit builder
and set for a random year.

Uh, y-yes, sir. A random year.

Oh, I think it was 1971.

Well... Well, that's, um, just the
problem, sir. We can't get it back.

You first, Hoople... Happle.

Happle? What'd you
say your name was?

- Hepplewhite.
- Hepplewhite!

- Yeah.
- Ahh. Now, wait a minute.

I went to medical school with
a chap named Hepplewhite.

He went into obstetrics,
or was it E.E.N.T.?

I disremember which.

That couldn't be you,
could it, Hepplewhite?

Ah, not me.

Atomic science at Ohio State.
Besides, we just met around the corner.

To be sure. There is nothing,

my dear Hepplewhite,
as convivial...

as a cup of wine
between comrades.

Hepplewhite?

Hepplewhite! Conviviality
comes with sharing.

You're drinking the
whole thing! Give me!

What's the matter with you?

That was my lunch...

my cocktail hour and my dinner.

Cost 89 cents,

which is the sum
total of my fortune.

There it lies.

I beg your forgiveness.

Yeah? Where... Where
did I meet you, anyway?

Around the corner. We were both
tryin' to mooch each other for a dime.

- Ah, yes. I recall.
- In unison.

Yeah. Well,

some men, my
gentle Hepplewaite...

- White.
- Hepplewhite.

There are some men
who topple from grace,

but I was shot down into
the depths like a projectile.

From a man of medicine
to a panhandling wino...

with perpetual
winter in my bones.

You a doctor? Well, I was.

There was a little, uh, problem
with a county medical society.

And with a committee on
ethics of the Medical Society.

That was... oh... 20 years ago.

Since then, I've
become a commuter.

I commute from my moldy,
reeking room to the sidewalk,

then to the wine merchants...

and then to this...
this charming alley.

Hey, Doc, when you were doin' all
that doctorin', you ever do anything bad?

Well, there was a bit...

of fee splitting
here and there...

and some careless diagnoses.

And then there
was a tawdry item...

having to do with my
attempting an appendectomy...

so bombed out of my mind
I couldn't tell a retractor...

from a sponge.

It all added up. First
my talent left me,

then my pride, and
shortly afterwards,

my livelihood.

I went from a
Hippocratic healer...

to a hypocritical heel.

That's not bad. That's not bad.

Well.

Whoo-hoo!

Huh?

Ha-ha. Well.

Medical technology has
advanced in two decades...

more than I realized.

Allah is merciful.

No. This has got
to be worth $10.

With persuasion,
maybe $12.50. Yeah!

Proprietor, I want you
to consider this bag.

- Sight unseen, what's inside is worth...
- Doctor, please,

my little girl is very sick.

- Please. You come?
- Eight bucks. You want it or you don't?

Oh, come on now,
Doctor. She's so sick.

No, madam. No.
I'm afraid you don't

understand. I've retired
from active practice.

As a matter of fact, I was just leasing
my instruments. Temporary thing.

I'll be going on a
lecture tour very shortly...

rather sizable honorarium...
And in the meantime...

Come on, Doc. Is it
yes or no? Eight bucks.

We'll take it. Eight bucks. Man.

Doc, we can move up to
bourbon with eight bucks!

Unfortunately, proprietor, I
have need of my instruments.

I have a patient who
requires my services.

Oh... Ooh. It's strep!

There's no resistance, you see?

She's all skin and bones.

What are we? Fat and well fed?

Come on, lady. When are you gonna
pay the doctor for this here house call?

Please, Doctor. Help her.

Make her well. Please.

Look, woman. The
doctor here's a specialist,

and he don't do
these things for nothin'.

Now, would you... madam,
would you step into the hall?

I'll do the best I can. I'll take
care of her the best I can.

Yeah. "Aid-diós."

Doc, why don't you
just stick a new bandage

on this problem and
let's get out of here?

We know that bag's
worth eight bucks.

Stick around here an hour,
the price might go down.

Shh.

This is incredible.

It's as if it were
driving my fingers...

instead of my doing the cutting.

I ain't never seen
anything like this.

High... High fever. Deadly high.

This is a violent infection.

Doc, come on.
Let's get out of here.

What if they say we did it
to her? What if they come

in here and say we're
responsible for all of this?

"Lymphatic..." Wait a minute.

"Lymphatic..." and across
the column... "infection."

And in this square in
between: "I.V.-G.-C.C."

Hepplewhite, look here.

The hypodermic needles are
marked with the same numerals,

so maybe three c.c.s of
whatever's in this hypodermic...

should have something or
other to do about the infection...

settled in the lymphatic system.

- Well, what do you think?
- I don't know. Maybe.

Well, what can we lose?

All right.

Here we go.

Hey, Doc. You done it.

You... You killed that kid!

No.

¿Donde está mi mamá?

Huh. I think that's possible.

That's impossible.

There's no more gland infection,

and the temperature...
is normal.

And the tissues
around the wound...

are subsiding
while I'm watching.

You know something?
The pulse is normal.

- Doctor.
- Mm?

Que Dios le bendiga.

Thank you.

That doc is outta sight.

Ohh.

Doc? Mm-hmm?

Go in there and get that
money from that Spanish woman.

Did you hear what she said? No, no. I don't
understand that Puerto Rican dialogue.

She said God bless me.

So you got yourself a big deal.
And then she called me "doctor."

Doc Fall? Hmm?

Let's go on down to that
pawn shop, huh? Come on.

To the pawn shop, Doctor. You
know, it wasn't really a treatment.

It was more like a... I
don't know... miracle.

I admit that I've been...

I've been walking around in an
alcoholic fog for over 20 years...

But how could the healing arts
have taken such gargantuan steps...

without my even being
marginally aware of...

Doc, if we don't keep
foolin' around, that

pawn shop'll be closed.
Come on. Let's go, huh?

"Patent applied for. U.S.A.

July, 2098."

Hepplewhite. Huh?

Do you hear that? Yeah.

Two thousand... 98.

This is incredible, Hepplewhite.

Hmm? You slide these
indicators along the grooves...

and then...

you cross-index the
medical data you're seeking.

Yeah. And you press that button.

And the text is supposed
to appear on that screen.

Oh. Observe.

Now. Here. We'll try that.

"Hold the suture needle by
the end without the hole in it."

"Touch it to one end of the wound
you wish to close and release. Yeah."

"After it has made the knot."
Hepplewhite, this is absolutely incredible.

Somehow... don't ask me how...

But somehow this bag and its
contents has come to us from the future.

It really doesn't exist yet,

yet here it is. Uh-huh.

It means that mankind can
skip 100 years of trial and error.

Think of the things it
can cure. Yeah. I know.

Hey.

"Cutaneous series knife."

"You sink this in
three centimeters,"

"the retractor blades separate
the lips of the incision...

"and the knife proceeds to
cut away the dead tissues...

"of the epidermis...

"and the live
tissues of the dermis.

"It pushes aside all the major
and minor blood vessels...

"and muscular tissue without
affecting any system or organ...

except the one it's tuned to."

Fantastic!

Do you realize what
you can do with this?

I do.

You can extirpate
an inoperable tumor.

You can... remove cancer.

Charlie Peterson.

Where's Charlie Peterson?

Dr. Fall, please.
No loud noises.

You know the rules.
Where's Charlie Peterson?

Shh. He's upstairs resting, and
I don't want you to disturb him.

He hasn't much longer, and
I want him to die in peace.

Die in peace? He's
gonna live in peace!

Charlie is gonna live!

Doctor, what have you
got there? A medical bag.

Medical bag indeed.
And where did you get it?

You steal it? Oh, no.

I didn't steal
it. I... found it.

That's the gospel truth,
Mr. Ennis. He found it.

Well, just supposing you give it to me,
and I'll track down the rightful owner?

You'll do no such
thing. I'm going upstairs,

and I'm gonna save
Charlie Peterson's life!

Charlie?

What's the matter, Doc?

Charlie,

I want you to be very,
very quiet. Understand?

Just lie there, because
I am going to cure you.

And you're not... You're
not gonna feel a thing.

Cure me?

Oh... Oh, Doc, go
back to your bottle.

Are you out of your mind? Get out of
here before you get into real trouble.

You get out of here.
I've got a life to save.

You get out of here! Out!

So, Charlie, you
understand what I said?

- Yeah.
- You be very quiet, and it's not gonna hurt you.

I don't think you'll even feel
it, but the essential thing is...

you've gotta be
very quiet, very still.

I ain't lookin'
for no cure, Doc.

But if you could just... If
you could just do it quick.

If you could stop the pain,

I'd be much obliged to ya.

All right then.

What's going on? I called
you so it wouldn't go on.

I got a crazy wino,
an ex-doctor, who's

about to stick a man
with a knife. Upstairs!

Tell 'em, Charlie. No
more pain, Mr. Ennis.

Doc Fall, he done it, and
I didn't even feel anything.

And I'm all better now. I thought
you said there was a knifing.

I saw a knife in his hand!

- Are you a doctor?
- Yes. I'm a doctor.

I'm... a doctor of medicine.

Come on, Charlie. We'll
have a cup of coffee.

Okay, Doc.

Pardon me, officer. ♪♪

Gentlemen. Gentlemen.

Nice to see you, gentlemen.

Doc, you were sure
right. The pain's all

gone, and when you
done it, I didn't feel a...

Cured him. I... I ain't
seen Charlie on his feet...

for... for a month and a half.

Fellow from the free clinic said that
Charlie wouldn't last another week.

I was there. I heard him.

Doc Fall done it... old
Doc Fall. He done it.

A man may be down, but he is
never out, Charlie... never out.

Never forget it. I
won't forget it, Doc.

- Doc?
- Yeah, Jake?

Look here. Arthritis...
Look at that.

Oh, yes. Now, let me see.

Yeah.

Just a moment now.
Arthritis. Rheumatoid.

Sit down, Jake. We can fix ya.

"Syringe 5-A. Inject
into the nearest joint."

Aha!

Ladies and gentlemen of
the Fellowship of Surgeons,

I'm very honored to be here today to
address you and to read to you my paper...

on new procedural
methods of removing tumors.

Hey, Hepplewhite,

you know, tomorrow,
at a very early hour,

I'm going to telephone
the Medical Society,

and I'm going to
solicit a convocation...

of the leading surgeons
and the scientists...

The leading ones
of the whole country.

And I am going to...

demonstrate to them... the bag.

Wait. You know,
what I'm going to say...

I'm gonna stand up in front of them,
tall and straight, and I'm gonna say,

"Distinguished ladies and gentlemen,
before I begin this demonstration,

"I'd like to pose you... Ask
you... an academic question.

"If I were to take
this scalpel, this knife,

"and I were to
embed it in my throat...

"and then cut into a depth...

"of perhaps three centimeters,

"what would your
professional estimation be...

of my chances of surviving?"

They'll be aghast! They'll
be absolutely aghast!

They'll be suspicious and
unbelieving and dubious.

But then, you see... then I'll
demonstrate it, Hepplewhite.

I will demonstrate on
myself. I'll demonstrate this...

on myself.

What's that funny
look in your face?

I mean, what is it
that you want? Huh?

I want in. I want a
part of the action.

Now, just what do
you mean by that?

I fear after your
little show tomorrow,

you're gonna make a million
dollars with this... bag of miracles...

Million? Maybe five,
maybe 10 million.

Well, there ain't any limit!

Doc, I was in that
alley with ya, 'member?

I could've found
that bag just as well.

So we're gonna be partners, huh?

Everything you make,

we're gonna split 50-50.

Why, you stupid, ignorant...

You garbage-headed termite!

What do you think this is?
A money machine? Do ya?

You think this is kind
of a carnival shell game?

Why, you fool, anybody
can make money.

I mean, you could take a
witless hobo like yourself...

and you could find...
you could find a jewel

in the gutter and could
become a millionaire.

But once in a lifetime... will you
listen to me... once in a lifetime...

In 100 lifetimes... every instrument of
healing that people have ever prayed for...

in 1,000 years has
dropped into our laps!

We're not gonna use this...
This bag to make money.

We're gonna use it
to cure the incurable!

We are going to
kick death in the face,

and we're gonna drag
its victims back into life.

We are going to heal and we're
going to cure and we're going to fulfill...

Doc, we ain't gonna do anything.

Not unless we do it...

my way.

- Fall is his name. William Fall.
- Never heard of him.

- Some new surgical procedure with tumors.
- I doubt it.

Look and see.

Gentlemen, this
is Dr. William Fall.

Gentlemen, I'm not gonna
take up too much of your time.

My demonstration...
I'm gonna pose an...

An academic question.

Now, if I was...
Pardon me, Doctor...

If I were to take this knife...

and embed it into my throat...

and cut to the depth
of three centimeters,

in your professional estimation,

what do you think would
be my chances of survival?

- Are you serious, Dr. Fall?
- Sir?

Are you serious? Dead serious.

Well, "dead" would be the word.

If that knife were to be inserted in
your neck to the depth you speak of,

why, you'd shear major
and minor blood vessels,

muscular tissue, pharynx.

- You'd be dead within minutes.
- Then, gentlemen, watch this.

Uh, Director Cosgrove?

Gillings, sir. This has
to do with that medical

bag that was inadvertently
sent through time.

Well, sir, I'm getting a
warning light here, sir.

There's been a homicide
committed with one of its instruments.

You know, we have this warning system,
sir, where each medical kit is numbered,

and if they fall into homicidal hands,
we have an electronic appraisal light...

Well, sir... Yeah, um... Well,
th-that's what I figured, sir. Yes, sir.

I'll deactivate it immediately.

Perfectly ghastly.

The old fool. If he was so
determined to commit suicide,

why couldn't he at
least have had the good

grace to do it in the
privacy of his own home?

If I wanted to see a demonstration of
hara-kiri, I'll take in a Japanese movie.

I'm not so sure it was
deliberate. Did you catch

the look on his face
just before he dropped?

I've never seen anyone
look quite so surprised.

Say, Doc, what do you want I should do with
this? What do you usually do with trash?

Feed it to the incinerator.

Junk. Nothing
but moldering junk.

This offering is a landscape,
lunar and low-keyed,

suggestive, perhaps,
of some of the

question marks that
await us in the stars...

and perhaps pointing
out the moment when

we'll collect something
other than moon rocks.

This item is called The
Nature of the Enemy.

About a hundred yards
from the landing site.

Take him off S-band.
Put him on V.H.F.

We estimate a mile
from the crash site.

Roger. Copy. Can
you see anything?

At about 2:00, the
depression in the ground...

and there are bits of metal.

Hold on, Capcom.

Okay. Follow me.

This is Houston. F-21,
1/60th of a second...

for shadow photography
on sequence camera.

We're looking at
what appears to be

wreckage. Is that
wreckage? Pieces of metal?

Nothing but.

It's the mother ship.

Extent of wreckage.
Size of the depression.

It has to be the mother ship.

Steve, any sign of life?

Negative.

But we were talking to
them. We had communication

after the crash. They're
there someplace.

Negative on the scanner
and negative on the speaker.

There's no sign of anyone.

Look. We've been
here a good half hour...

Here he is now. All
right. Come on, mister.

Mr. Simms, would you
please explain why, after

28 hours, all the press
has is this pap handout?

Gentlemen, the point of this press
conference is to let you know...

precisely where we stand on both missions:
Project Settlement and Project Rescue.

What about survivors? Have
they found any survivors?

Negative. Just let me back up
and summarize how it all began.

Then I'll entertain questions.
Now, on Monday of last week,

we landed two spacecraft
in tandem on the moon.

The purpose was to set up
a base camp of operations.

As of the point of their actual
descent onto the surface,

we were able to maintain
only sporadic communications.

We do know this much: One ship apparently
crashed on impact, and the other...

Well, the other one we can't
find. On the surface of the moon?

Gentlemen, I've
given you all we have. I

won't guarantee that
this sounds rational...

or at the moment, it's
explainable, but this is it.

The rescue ship effected a landing
on the lunar surface three hours ago.

They were able to locate
only the first wreckage.

What about the "attack"
story? Now, in the transmission

from the first crew, you
heard the word "attack."

We thought we heard the word
"attack." Transmission was garbled.

We thought Commander Perkins
said something about "We are under..."

And the final word
sounded like "attack."

But we can't verify this, so this
is where we stand at the moment.

The mother ship is the one we found. That
contained food, water and oxygen devices.

What was on the other ship?

Building supplies,
construction equipment...

everything that was to be
used to set up the base camp.

So if anybody did attack them,
they wouldn't have had any weapons.

Any theories as to who
the enemy might be?

Could there have been
Russians there or Chinese?

When do you take the wraps
off this thing, anyway, and

start responding with a
couple of intelligent answers?

The moment I get a couple
of intelligent questions!

Look, there'd be absolutely no reason
for Russians or Chinese to attack us,

even if they were up
there, which they aren't.

There is one thing we
are certain of. It is the

unanimous posture of the
world scientific community...

that there is no life
whatsoever on the moon,

except for certain microbes we may
have left during previous landings.

Now, this being so, it must
be obvious to all of you...

that we simply misread
the word "attack."

What is the status
of rescue operations?

We are trying to locate
the victims, if there are any.

That is the current status
of rescue operations.

I wonder if you'd
comment... What is it?

Wait a minute.

How 'bout some information
on this? What was that all about?

Uh, we just found this here.

It was obviously made
with parts of the spaceship.

Hold it, Steve. Zap up
his volume and copy this.

All right. Try again, Steve.

Don't ask me what it is, Capcom.

It's all we could find.

Metal platform, 30 feet
long and maybe 15 feet wide.

Our base built it. There's
no question about that.

Built it for what?

Repeat, Capcom. We got cut off.

What did they build it
for? What does it look like?

Dear God, it can't be.

It just can't be!

This is what the rescue
mission found, gentlemen:

this platform.

This is all they found.
What's it supposed to be?

That was my first question when I
saw it. It was also my last question.

We then lost communications
with the rescue team.

- We've heard nothing further from them.
- Know what it looks like?

I swear. It looks like a...

A mousetrap.

Transmission! I got a
transmission on V.H.F.-9!

The enemy.

That's the enemy.