All language subtitles for 17_Black.Mirror.S03E06.BDRip.x265-ION265

Feedback squeals

Man: They're ready now.

Woman: Perhaps we could begin
with your earliest recollections

of the events of last may.

Well, I first got involved on the 15th.

Woman: Could you move
the microphone a little closer?

Feedback whines

here?

I first got involved on the 15th.

Alarm system beeps

Home automation system chimes

She sighs

N ews anchor:
Chancellor Tom pickering has defended

the government's stance
on disability benefits

as outrage over the death of so—ca/ied
'whee/chair martyr' Gwen marbury grows.

More than 20,000 people
have signed a petition

demanding the sacking
of newspaper columnist Jo powers

fol/o wing her controversial article
about Gwen marbury.

Conservationists have announced
another extinction.

The siberian crane has died out

fol/o wing an unprecedented reduction
in its wet/and habitat.

And the honeybee—mimicking drone insects
known as ad/s

have been activated
for their second summer.

Robotic bees buzz

Hope you're ashamed of yourself.

Bitch. — pleasure's all mine.

Mobile phone chimes

Van door opens

yo powers?

Jo powers.

Whatever's in there, will it detonate?

That's from bakery. For you.

Thank you. — thank you.

Man: Hello, darling!

She chuckles

Oh...

Creative, your well—wishers.

Oh, don't eat it.

It's a cake. That's its job.

I'm going to have a bath.

Music: "Sail away" by Enya

♪ sail away, sail away, sail away

♪ from Bissau to Palau
in the shade of avalon

♪ from Fiji to tiree
and the isles of ebony

♪ from Peru to cebu,
hear the power of Babylon

♪ from Bali to Cali... ♪

Jo laughs

fan whirs

computer chimes

ha!

She chuckles

Woman on TV: Grammyaward—winning
rapper tusk is still with us.

TV audience cheers

now, tusk,
there are loads of online videos

of people trying to emulate you

but this is our favourite.
Take a look at this.

Audience cheers

it's a young chap called Aaron sheen.
He's nine years old.

Hal that is one goofy—looking kid.

Laughter — not a good dancer.

He's nine years old! I mean, come on,
he's a pretty good dancer...

That little motherfucker can't dance
for shit.

Audience jeers

he should probably just give up
now, actually.

Host: Tusk...
Tusk: Don't hate on me for keeping it real.

That's a goofy little motherfucker,
and he can't dance for shit.

Host: He is a big fan, tusk.

Tusk: Don't hate on your boy
for keeping it real.

Mobile phone beeps

host: Well, everybody's got
to start some where.

Tusk: Start somewhere?
I looked better than that...

TV sh uts off

Eerie music

indistinct radio chatter

dci parke? — no press.

No, I'm not press.

I'm tdc blue Colson.
I'm your shadow.

My shadow? They said...

Sorry. Call me karin.

Did you say your name was...?
— blue.

B—I—u—e, blue?
— yeah. It's not a nickname.

My dad liked the sound of it.
— uh—huh.

Seen a body before? — a couple.

On video, I mean. — boss?

This is blue. She's my shadow.

Ds Nick Shelton.
— what've we got?

Jo powers. — as in...?

As in actual Jo powers.

Saw something she wrote the other day
about the wheelchair woman.

Clickbait piece.
Pissed people off.

That article was fucking horrendous.
Even I signed the petition.

To get her sacked.

Come on.

Helicopter whirs overhead

Neighbours heard her screaming,
called it in.

Karin: Hell of a struggle.

Anyone else at home?

Husband.
Found slashed across the stomach.

By her? — dunno.

He was unconscious.
They've taken him to st Columbus.

Computer beeps

Blue:
Her mentions are still pouring in.

Restraining bolt's in place.

No other points of entry?

No. But the outside's
ringed with cctv.

We got the code for the cams?
— uh—huh.

Ok, then.

Check the recordings.
Bag that, send it to toxicology.

Full autop for her, and we question the
husband as soon as he wakes up.

Computer beeps

door opens and shuts

come on.

You think it's the husband?
— I'm keeping options open.

Cutting the throat, that's unusual.
Thanks, chaps.

But you do think he did it?

Don't know anything yet.

These things are almost always
either drink, drugs or domestic.

It is how it is.

You driving home?
— no licence. Never passed.

I'm sort of waiting for driverless
to go mainstream.

Get in.
— no, honestly, I'll get the tube.

Get in. — oh. Ok.

So you were in tech crime?

Digital forensics. Computer murk.

What happened?
You get bored of it?

Er, not exactly.

Um, you've seen what people
tuck away on these.

Schemes and kill lists, kiddie porn.
It's not boring.

I'm old enough to remember when
they walked around with that stuff

just tucked away in their heads.

Right. But now they can't help but
entrusting it to their little companions.

These things absorb who we are.

They know everything about us.

If it's interesting,
why leave forensics?

The rannoch case.

Ian rannoch?
— the child killings, yeah.

I was the one who cracked
his souvenir folder.

So you saw those pictures?
— mm—hmm.

And the videos, too.
Saw them all.

Eerie music

you see something like that,
it changes you.

You either get defeated or you think...

You think, 'fuck me.
I've got to help stop that shit.'

yeah.

I mean, out here in the field...
— what fucking field?

Well, you know what I mean.

Out here in the...
In the real world

you can genuinely prevent stuff,
can't you?

You are young.

Maybe you're old.

Karin: Steady.

Thanks.

See you tomorrow. — yes, boss.

TV anchor: Jo powers has been found
dead at her home in west London.

The veteran columnist had been
at the centre of controversy

over an article she 'd written about
disability rights activist Gwen marbury.

The police have yet to confirm the cause...

TV sh uts off

Lift bell dings

man: It's just the first floor,
first door on the...

Indistinct chatter

starting early?
— I asked Nick to show me the cctv.

Oh, yeah? — yeah.

So no one came in or out.
Just Jo and her husband all evening.

And that one there?
— rear patio.

Bust for months by the looks of it.
— someone could've come in through there.

They'd have to climb the fence,
make it in and out

knowing the camera wasn't working.

But, yeah, could have happened.
Technically.

Ok, sorry.

You're keen to help.

She just asked! — uh—huh.

He sighs

She sighs

eerie music

Computer chimes

karin clears throat

erm... so...

I'm collating every threat or insult
levelled at Jo powers

over the previous 48 hours.

Say it is the husband.
That's a coincidence, isn't it?

Not really.

You've got everyone
throwing a shit fit.

Stress levels in that household
would've been through the roof.

That Internet stuff
drifts off like weather.

It's half hate.
They don't mean it.

The hate in a marriage,
that's in 3D.

That's had work put into it.
That's sincere.

Yeah. I'm divorced. — um...

The husband's up and talking.

You're gonna love his alibi.

Siren wails

Phone rings

she's here.

I heard Jo screaming from upstairs.

And when I ran in,
she was walking...

Round the room, stumbling.

She was clutching...

She was clutching her head
as if she was in pain.

And then for a moment,
she stopped.

And then it was like a seizure,
she was...

Thrashing and clawing
at her own skin.

And she turned...

He cries

she smashed her head...
Onto the desk, hard.

Then she... she pushed me over.

That must've been when
the bottle smashed.

And then she... she picked it up

and she started cutting herself.

Here. She was gouging.

I tried to stop her.

But she did this.

Then she cut her throat.

I tried to stop her.

She cut her own throat
with the glass!

He cries

Karin: Mutilated and then killed herself
for no apparent reason?

I'd say the odds are against that.

He said it was like
she was having a seizure.

I mean, maybe there was
something in the cake.

The cake?
— It had 'fucking bitch' iced on it.

Could've been something in it.
— like a drug?

I don't know.
— that makes people kill themselves?

He was sort of convincing.

He just doesn't seem the...
— don't say 'the type.'

he's ordinary. That is the type.

What, so he bounced her head
off the desk?

Blue.
— just held her steady enough to cut...?

Blue. — what?

Toxicology are looking at the cake.
— ok.

Meantime, let's drop in
on the person that sent it.

Got the name this morning.

You don't need to patronise me.

We're doing what you want.

Following another lead.
— that you think is a waste of time.

Picking along dead ends just
to prove they're dead ends

that's most of the job.

I'm not saying it's a waste of time.

Just...

You haven't had a chance
to get bored of reality yet.

Ok, that was patronising.

Is this who sent the cake?
— uh—huh.

Have we checked her social feeds?
— I don't know.

'Death to Jo powers.'

she posted that
on Monday morning.

The bakery said that, erm,
they're not meant to do obscenities

so I said it was for my sister,
like just a joke thing

and they agreed, so...

Not cheap, their cakes.
With delivery, it was what, 80 quid?

Um...
Well, I didn't pay for it all myself.

We all put a pound in each.
— we?

Yeah, I'm on a mums and carers
message board.

I held a sort of whip—round.

You crowd—sourced the money?
— yeah, if you like.

From 80 other people?

Look, I'm not...

I'm not being funny, ok?
I know she is dead.

But did you read what
she had written?

Now, how much do you think she got paid
for spouting that horrible shit?

I don't know.

I was just using my freedom of speech.
— to send a threatening message.

Look...

It was funny, ok?

And I can see if I'd done it myself,
then that would be a bit weird

but I'm not mental.

You wished she was dead.

Well, uh...

N—no, no, I didn't.

Here.

'Death to Jo powers.'
— Liza chuckles

that's just...

It's a... a hashtag game, you know,
like 'death to...'

you insert the name of someone
who's being an arsehole.

It's not... real.

It's a joke thing.

And who started it? The hashtag?

I don't know. I don't know.
I saw it somewhere.

Mobile phone chimes

excusg us a moment.

Toxicology say the cake's clean.

They also said,
'thanks, it was delicious.'

we'll give her a caution.
Offensive communications act.

Does that cover cakes?
— as far as she's concerned, it does.

What about the others who chipped in?
Are you going to tell them off, too?

I didn't do anything.
— start a thread about it.

Hospital's discharging the husband
tomorrow.

We'll bring him in for questioning.

Blue.

We're arresting the husband.
Don't wallow in that.

The Internet will be pissed off
with someone else today.

Nick: Tusk.

Everyone's pissed off with tusk
'cause of that thing with the kid.

He's catching a shit storm
on social media.

Liza will be organising the cake now.
— yeah.

See you tomorrow. — see ya.

Whoo! — hip hop music plays

where my ladies at?

Good show tonight, man.
— yeah, good show, brother.

I'm feeling my shit.
— all day, all day.

Want some of that?
— what you smoking?

Good shit, boy.

A'ight.

Damn!

Eyes on, eyes on, eyes on.

Don't stress. It's legal here.

Pfft! Keep forgetting.

Welcome to Europe, I guess.

Kinda takes the joy out of it.
— tell me about it.

Clatter
— careful! You break it, you pay for it.

Always doing some bullshit.
— tusk screams

tusk? Tusk?

Tusk screams

yo! Yo!
We need some help over here!

Tusk screams

I got you.
— get it out! Get it out! Get it out!

Call an ambulance!

Monitor beeps

Scanner hums

Scanner whirs — commencing.

Scanner rattles

alarm beeps

Thud

Thud

Suspenseful music builds

Siren wails distantly

Did he say what it is? — nope.

Buzzer sounds

good morning. — morning.

She's in here.

So I go in

and there's not just the wound
from the glass.

There's a hole. Dug in.
A bore hole, like a tiny tunnel.

So I follow it, you know,
how deep does it go?

It goes all the way from her ear canal
to deep in her brain.

Where I find... this.

Nestled right in there.
Looks quite cosy.

Karin: It's one of those bee things.
— blue: An adi.

An autonomous drone insect
from the granular project.

How did it get in there?
— I'd say it burrowed in.

Fuck me.

Doctor:
Hmm. That's not the worst part.

It crawled right through her
dorsal posterior insula

which is basically
the brain's pain centre.

You're talking agony off the scale.

You'd do anything to make it stop.

Even cut your own throat.

Good afternoon. — dci parke.

Tdc blue Colson.
— ok. Thank you.

Karin: They're so fucking fancy—looking,
these companies.

Billions on branding.
— well, they can afford it.

The whole adi project's pretty much
bankrolled by the government.

It's why so many people
are paranoid about it.

Let me guess, this is some people
on the Internet?

They reckon the government
uses the bees to spy on us.

There's a schizophrenic worldview.

Logo buzzes

Jesus, I didn't expect to find myself
living in the future

but here I fucking well am.

Karin parke? — uh—huh.

Vanessa dahl.

Please, follow me.

You're after information
on our project swarm adis?

Karin: That's right.

Vanessa: Any particular reason?

Yes.

Robotic bees buzz

Rasmus. — mm—hmm, mm—hmm.

Rasmus sjoberg.

He heads swarm.
— nice to meet you.

Nice... greenhouse. — yeah.

Karin: So, your bees, your adis,
talk me through them.

Colony collapse disorder.
We still don't know what's behind it.

Bees themselves were virtually extinct

so what our adis do
is effectively stand in for them.

They're solar powered.
They don't need nectar.

But they pollinate flowers
the same way.

They crawl inside,
pollen sticks to their legs

and gets brushed off
the next flower they visit.

Can they make honey?
— Rasmus: Er, no.

I was joking.

How do they know where
the flowers even are?

I mean...
— well, they have a sensor.

Like a... camera?

No, just a basic visual sensor.

You see, they need rudimentary
pattern recognition

in order to locate compatible flora
and navigate.

They navigate? — yes.

You don't... I don't know...

Steer them?

They're autonomous.
That's right, isn't it?

They make their own decisions.
They look after themselves.

Yes. You see, the adis cover
the whole of the UK.

We couldn't command each one
individually ourselves.

It's just not logistically possible.

No. He coughs

we simply set the behaviour
and leave them to it.

They even construct these hives
themselves.

They reproduce...

They reproduce?
— yes. Each hive is a replication point.

Blue: It's like a 3D printer, basically.
— Rasmus: Exactly.

They create duplicates
of themselves

and create more hives
and spread out exponentially.

Blue: Cover the country.
— maybe you should work here.

Yeah, well, I read up on it.
It's impressive.

It is.

It's just a shame it's necessary.

The alternative would have been
environmental catastrophe.

Bees were dying out.

So, what is it that brings you here?

We think one of your adis may be involved
in an unexplained death.

Sorry? A death?

Uh—huh.

Thank you.

Yeah, it's one of ours.

But, look, these are not designed to...
— kill people?

I'd hope not.

Could it have malfunctioned
somehow?

No. I mean, when they do malfunction...

It happens, but then they just break,
they just hit the ground.

What if someone hacked one and then
they found a way of controlling it?

That's impossible.

You see, it's got military—grade
encryption

and you would need a diagnostic controller,
which is also encrypted.

So I would say the likelihood is...

I don't know what he's saying,
but it's not the same as impossible.

This is every hive we have online.

See...

These are the hives in
the building here.

How many bees per hive?
— around 4,000.

Karin: It's like air traffic control.
— Rasmus: Yeah.

Is that the search input?

Yeah, but, uh... you'd need...
— sorry.

Blue types

Jo powers' postcode.
— computer beeps

is that who this is about?

You said you get some malfunctions?
— a fair few, yes.

They smack into a car or something.
We even had people trap them.

You know, put them in the microwave
for a YouTube video.

And this logs any that
drop off the system?

Logs everything, yes.

Did you lose any round here
on Monday evening?

Well, I can check.

Computer beeps

just one.
Went out at 1903 hours.

Here, I can replay.
— computer beeps

there.

That's odd. — blue: What's odd?

When they pass between hives

they switch from one jurisdiction
to another.

It's, you know, like a...

It's like a... like a phone
between cell masts.

Exactly. It tried to do that,
but there was nothing to switch to.

Unless someone spoofed a hive and then
they've used that to commandeer your adi.

No, you would need
a diagnostic controller to do that.

Blue:
What's the range on one of those?

Rasmus: 10, 20 metres, perhaps.

So whoever was controlling it would have
to be no more than 20 metres away.

Karin: Outside the house.
— yeah, or sitting in a car, even.

Can you trace back who did this?
— yes. I—I'm already trying to do that.

Uh... — computer beeps

you know what? Erm...

It would be easier without
an audience.

Ok.

You two swap numbers,
keep a line of communication.

Can you shut the whole thing down
if need be?

Hypothetically speaking?

Even a short stoppage
would damage the ecosystem

and we'd need approval from
the department of the environment.

We'll need a list of any granular staff
that had access to that system

past or present.

Some of those were
government employees.

Use a different font for those
if it helps.

Eerie music

Robotic bees buzz

Nick, that's a set of granular
personnel records.

Root out anyone interesting.

Maybe not just one.

Could be a group involved.
— yeah, listen...

Technically we should refer this
up to the nca

but there's no fucking way
they're taking this off me.

The nca already knows about it.

What?

Dci karin parke?

Yes.
— Shaun li, national crime agency.

How come you're here?

There's been more than one.

Door shuts

Shaun: This is tusk, last night.

Shit.
— they thought it was a fit.

Took him to the hospital.

He had to be anaesthetised
to stop him mutilating himself.

X—ray seemed to indicate some kind
of plaque or tumour in his brain

so they popped him in the mri.
— she groans

yeah.

Basically one big magnet.

Tore it right out of his head,
through the eye socket.

She groans

battered the adi, too.

Yours is more intact
so I'm gonna need it for analysis.

Karin: It's evidence.

Two's a pattern.

Knocks any malfunction theory
in the head.

And they're similar victims.
— similar?

Both in the middle of online
shit storms.

Well, if you wanna kill someone,
there's a million easier ways to do it.

Pull this off and you've done it
from across the street.

No fingerprints, no DNA.

It's like wishing them dead.

Fuck.

Computer chimes

fuck.

Guys? Come here.

Ok, so, erm...

Jo powers and tusk

both were being kicked around
the Internet for hours

but in both their cases,
people were also tweeting their photos

accompanied with this hashtag:
#deathto.

Like our friend the teacher.
— right.

She didn't know where she'd first
heard of it, but trace it back

and it looks like the first real use
of the hashtag was last weekend.

By who? — blue: Er...

Looks like, erm...

Looks like identical tweets
from a set of duplicate bot accounts.

Erm...

Automated.

It's like spam.

This is someone trying
to seed the tag, you know?

Get it out there. It's like bait.

This is someone wanting people
to pick up on it.

Check out the senders' avatar photos.

Karin: Bees. Shit.

Ok.

There's more.

So each tweet had a sort of
instruction video attached to it.

Karin: Uh—huh. — there.

'Game of consequences'?

It's like an unpopularity contest.

Pick someone you don't like and if enough
other people choose the same name

then that's who gets targeted.

Here, watch.

Robotic voice:
Game of consequences.

One: Pick a target.
— karin: Oh, my god.

Two: Post their name and photo
with #deathto.

No.

Three: Most popular target will be
eliminated after 5 pm. Each day.

Four: Game resets at midnight.

Nick: Oh, no, no. — karin: Fuck.

Someone's holding a public ballot,
bumping off the top person.

Jesus, it's just mad.

Yeah, and it's growing.

Day one, 63 people used
the hashtag on Jo powers. Ok?

On day two, 223 used it on tusk.

Who's using it now?

There's... I mean,
there's loads more people.

There's quite a few votes
for the chancellor.

Yeah. — erm...

But at number one...

Is 880 people using it
on someone called Clara meades.

Who's she? — Clara meades.

Ok, erm... it looks like she
was at a demo

and she took a selfie
in front of a war memorial...

Pretending to piss on it.

Nice work, Clara. — yeah.

It's getting near the end
of the vote

and her mentions are blowing up.

Tusk isn't public knowledge yet?
— um, no.

So people can't know
the hashtag works.

They're using it to scare her.

Yeah, but they're gonna
get her killed.

And we need to get to her before five.

Yeah. Pulling her citizens details.

You're not supposed
to have access to that.

Yeah, I know.
Just getting her location.

There.

Computer chirps

heavy breathing

mobile phone rings

Ringing stops

chirps continue

Clara whimpers

phone rings

fuck...

Woman: Hello?

Clara whimpers

woman: Yeah, she is, but...

Alright, alright, hold on.

Clara!

Police. For you.

How did they get my number?

Hello? — Clara meades?

This is dci karin parke, met police.

Sorry to track you down like this,
but we think you may be in danger.

Sorry, is this a joke?

'Cause all this stuff I'm getting,
it's not funny.

I'm not joking.
Stay where you are until we get there.

And keep your windows closed.

I'm setting up a perimeter.

Call Rasmus,
we need him across this.

She sighs

Rasmus? — hi, blue.

I'm sending you a postcode
and my GPS.

I need you to monitor the area.

Track my location and see if you get
anything unusual, any rogue adis, yeah?

Yeah, great, good.

Look, if they come back

I think I can catch them.

I... I have basically set a trap.

So if they... if they try it again,
we've got them.

Dashboard beeps

are you Batman?
— they only just rolled them out.

This'll turn every red light
between here and there to green.

Fuck me. If this is the nca life,
I should apply for a transfer.

Let's go.

We can take her here.

It's a safe house
for terrorist informers usually.

Helicopter whirs

sirens wail

Indistinct radio chatter

man over loudspeaker:
This is a police operation!

Indistinct yelling

please leave...

She gasps

computer beeps

Vanessa: What's that?
— Rasmus: Someone's trying to break in.

Rasmus?

Blue, I just picked up an
attempted breach.

Ok? Granular, they've got a breach.

Rasm us: One ad/just went offline.
— where?

800 metres from your location.
— that's outside our cordon.

If someone's trying to pilot
it this way

they're gonna turn round
the moment they see all these uniforms.

Clara meades? — yeah.

I'm karin parke.
Did you pack a bag?

Yeah, it's by the door.
— right, let's go.

Rasmus got a track on them?
— not yet.

It's just precautionary,
and it's only for one night.

Shaun: Just gotta call in.

Hi.

No, not yet.

Oh, hopefully never.

Granular are onto it.

Understood.

Robotic bee buzzes

They housed a witness here
for a while, Shaun said.

Must've had kids.

Have you got kids? — both: No.

No plans.

Robotic bee buzzes

up the stairs.

Mobile phone rings

Rasmus.
— still nothing. I can't trace it.

Clara: Oh.

Oh. At least there's an en—suite.

Is there nothing? — Rasmus: No.

Whoever it is, they've masked
their path well.

Computer beeps

but that's not...

Rasmus murmurs — blue: What?

We just lost a whole hive.
— what does that mean?

Packed full of ad/s.

Lost them all too.

No... Rasmus?
— there's thousands of them.

Where?
— It's close to your location.

Rasmus' voice garbles
— Rasmus, say that again.

Blue? Blue, it's close...
It's very close to...

Text it. Text it to me.
Rasmus, text it to...

Static hisses — shit.

Do I get to redecorate?

Eerie music

robotic bee buzzes

static hisses — hello. Hello.

Garbled voice

Rasmus: No...

They've got the whole thing.

We're not in control anymore.

They've got the whole thing.
— Vanessa: What are you doing?

Fix it!

Can't you fix it? — shut up!

Static hisses

robotic bees buzz

Mobile phone beeps

robotic buzzing intensifies

shit.

She pants

we need to go. Now. Now, Clara!

Go, go, go, go.

Shaun screams

karin gasps

Clara:
What is... what's happening?

Blue: Karin...

Window rattles

kari n mutters

In there! Go!

Clara gasps

help me block the gap!
— Clara: Tell me what's going on!

You're scaring the shit out of me!

Door rattles

Thuds sound

thuds sound

door rattles

she screams

oh! Fuck!

Buzzing continues

eerie music builds

Karin yells

the fan! The fan!
— Clara screams

Clara screams

she screams

get it away from me!

She screams

Karin whimpers

robotic bee buzzes

Buzzing stops

Blue breathes rapidly

Woman: Take your time.

I'd seen so many bodies before.

At crime scenes, in autopsies.

But I'd never seen anyone die.

And she was right there.

And can you describe the reaction
of your colleague, miss Colson?

Blue took it hard.

Shaun: Shaun.

Uh—huh.

I'll shut it down before then.

We thought this was one guy,
some mr mystery in the vicinity

hijacking one ad!
And personally controlling it.

Shaun:
But there were thousands of them.

So it can't be that, right?
— no.

One person can't fly
hundreds at once.

No, whoever this is,
they're controlling the whole system.

Do you know where they're
controlling it from?

No, could be anywhere.

Well, you need to fucking
sort this out!

How do the adis know who to target?

Could've found Clara the same way
you did, the identity database.

No. That just gives you the basic area.

We were in the room, too,
and they only went for her.

Facial recognition.
It's got to be facial recognition.

Which means the feed
from their visual sensors

that's been accessed, too.

Shaun: That's not possible.
— blue: It's the only explanation.

Now, look, the visual feed is secure
between each ad! And the hive.

There you go. — although...

One of the government's conditions
for backing the project...

Ok. Enough. — was that we...

We had to consent to permitting...
— enough.

Government security services access

to the visual feed at times of, quote,
'increased national security.'

which is, as I understand it,
pretty much all the time.

I wasn't happy about it.
— your lot went along with it.

Well, that implies a greater range
of options than your lot presented.

So they are spying on us.
— this is all classified.

So what did you do, did you put in
a backdoor and route it through gchq?

I mean, you do cctv, you do traffic cams.

So what don't you have
your fucking noses in?

Look, millions of those things
flying around, propping up the ecosystem?

Well, that's just great, save the planet,
hallelujah!

Government's not going
to pump billions into it

just 'cause some lab coat says so,
it grabs 200 green votes.

They saw an opportunity to get more,
they took it.

Total nationwide surveillance.

We've tracked suspects for weeks
in ways they couldn't dream of.

We've prevented bombings, mass shootings.
— by spying on the public.

And keeping them safe,
which is what they want.

Clara meades isn't safe, though,
is she, Shaun?

Knowing what you knew,
that might've helped us, but, no,

you kept your little
fucking secret, didn't you?

Ok! The government's a cunt.
We knew that already.

Word's going to get out about Clara.

The public's going to wake up and find
this mental assassination game going on

and soon we're going to have
another body.

So what do we do?
— I don't know.

We're... we're totally locked out.
Totally blind.

If I can work out how they got in

I might be able to reverse engineer
some means of getting control back.

Do the adis have a command log,
on—board cache?

Yeah, but that's encrypted.
— right, well, I'll need the key to that.

Mobile phone rings

rasm us sighs

been through the employee files,
found some pois.

Bring them in.

Are you sitting in on these?
Granular interviews?

I've got to be somewhere.

Radio beeps

woman on radio: It's 7:75.

Three deaths have now been linked
to a hashtag circulating on social media.

Contro versia/ journalist
Jo powers...

Man on radio: Good morning.
Have you posted the hashtag?

Is it real or an urban myth?

Well, thousands have been taking part,
but how culpable are they?

People are dying and we want
to hear your thoughts.

Line seven, Liana...

This is real, this is happening...

I am happy to see her die.

Woman: It's not the hashtag
who's the one killing them.

That's just a game.

Like, if you're an arseho/e,
you deserve to be shamed.

Man on radio: Steve, line five.

Man: Yeah, but my point is,
someone's gotta be top of the list, yeah?

So why not make it someone, you know,
like, who deserves it, like a racist.

Woman: Right now, with the hashtag, I've
seen celebrities, politicians, everyone.

This doesn't mean you have to sit there
encouraging people to take part.

The point is this is already happening.

And people know that they
can jump on—board

because nobody will ever know
if they did or didn't.

Well, let's just pause for a moment
and go back to that top five.

As we have been saying,
the chancellor is at number one,

and / want us to think about that.

What does that tell us
about the choice of the nation?

Woman: Well, / can't say I'm surprised
that he's number one on the list.

He's been pretty unpopular
for quite a long time now.

TV host: But does that warrant
his place on this list?

Woman: What I'm saying is people
don't have to think too hard about it.

Now that's he's number one

that should generate more discussions
and probably more votes.

TV voices fade

computer beeps

Thanks for your time.

No good? — no good.

Well, that's all fascinating...
— Shaun.

But when do we shut it down?
— Tom.

Forgive me for being sceptical
about your agency's basic competence.

Tom.
— I'm on the fucking chopping block here.

Number one on the list.
The people's fucking choice!

Farrington's number four
and he's a paedophile.

Suspected paedophile.
— he did it. You know he did.

Let's just shut it down.
All social media.

The whole bloody Internet,
pull the plug.

Just for today

at least until thumbelina here
pulls his finger out

and he actually catches someone.

I wouldn't advise shutting things down.
— but it's possible?

We can do that?
— the whole of social media?

Yeah. Pull a North Korea on it.
— well, yes, technically.

Right, so push the off switch.
— Shaun: That's not a good idea.

No? — not in my opinion.

Oh, right, ok.

It's just that speaking as a marked man,
I beg to fucking differ.

If we shut it down,
you'll still be number one.

Guaranteed to be, in fact.

He's right. If we let it run on,
at least there's a few hours.

Anything could happen before five o'clock.
The vote might change.

Yeah, and it might not.

What about that report?
The archive job?

From 1985, that memo
about farrington?

That was over an unrelated matter.
— Tom: Leak it.

Tom, that would be a smear.

A head—to—toe shit smear,
I fucking hope so.

He's in his 803. He's had his life.
Fuck him under the bus.

If I could suggest an alternative?

We move you to a safe location.

Have you secured before five.
— worked out well for you last night.

I'll show you.

Computer beeps

This next one's Tess wallender.
She was a junior.

So not much in the way
of technical skills.

Quit granular for personal reasons.
— nervous exhaustion, yeah.

Worked in human resources
for granular until she quit.

She took a photo of a guy on the tube,
said he'd harassed her.

Lewd comments or something.

But it turned out he had a
learning disability

so she caught a tonne
of shit on...

On social media.

Hello. I'm dci karin parke.
— hi.

It was like having a whole
weather system turn against me.

It was just hate message
after hate message

around the clock, all piling on.

It's hard to describe what that does
to your head.

Just suddenly
there's a million invisible people

all talking about how
they despise you.

It's... it's like a mental illness.

Blue: Fuck.

Nick: What?

Shit.

I mean, hands up, I made a mistake

but the way people enjoyed
kicking me, that...

That's what got to me.

The casual fun they had...

And, erm...

I just felt I couldn't go on.

Who found you?

Erm... Garrett, my flatmate.

He found me in the bath
five minutes after I slashed them.

I mean, it's crazy.

I'm half—conscious.

He's dragging me out of the bath

and I'm telling him to get out,
saying, 'I'm naked.'

he tied towels round my wrists,
kept me conscious

kept stroking my hair
till the ambulance arrived, talking to me.

Sort of weird.

I think he always had a thing for me.

And we worked at the same place so,
you know... awkward.

He worked at granular?
— yeah. On the ad! Thing.

He was a real wunderkind.
Ultra—smart.

What did you say his name was?

Garrett. Garrett scholes.

Garrett scholes.
We need the whereabouts of a Garrett...

Scholes.
We were about to tell you.

It was buried in the on—board memory
of the Jo powers adi.

What was?
— a manifesto. A 98—page manifesto.

And check this out.
There's fucking selfies in it.

Robotic bee buzzes

man: So we 're good to go?

Okay, that's the charge in place.

Ok. Pull back.

We 're all set here.

Detonate.

So, the plan is, we move you
to an underground bunker.

Knock out every hive
within a ten—mile radius.

And, what, just leave me there?
How long for?

It's a temporary measure.

How long till you take out
all the hives?

There's 20, 30,000 of them.
That would take two years.

Two years, a victim a day.

Yes, but more to the point,
the environmental impact would...

Oh, fuck that.

Man: Shit!

What? Fuck!

Stay back, stay back!

Get back!

Buzzing intensifies

soldiers scream

go, go, go! Get away!

Soldiers screams

static hisses

What's your plan b?

Robotic bees buzz

Eerie music

He was on the original employee roster,
but we discounted him.

He left the country six months ago.

We thought we were looking
for someone nearby.

Run a full trace on him.
Everything we can find.

Lunatic with production values,
that's the worst kind.

'Thanks to the technological
revolution

we have the power to rage and accuse,
spout bile without consequence.

Only by being forced to recognise
the power technology grants us

to acknowledge
individual responsibility...'

is it all like this?

He likens the population to insects,
says we revel in cruelty.

That it's a weakness
that should be bred out of us.

Recurrent theme is he wants people to face
the consequences of what they say and do.

Wants to force that on them.
— the whole thing's a moral lesson?

He wanted us to find this
and spread it about.

Well, fuck him.

Fuck.

Ominous music

Shit.

Karin. Karin. He's messed up.

He's put this document
together himself, right?

His author name's in the metadata

but he stripped out everything else

so we don't know when he's written it,
for example.

Mm—hmm.

Most of the photos are clipart
off the Internet, except this one.

Karin: The selfie.
— that's where he's screwed up.

He's taken it with his phone

and the phone has left a geotag
on the image.

So you know where he took this?
— I know precisely where.

He's here and granular ho is there.

Computer beeps

Armed police! Stay down!
— armed police!

Armed police!

Armed police!
Stay where you are!

Armed police! Show yourselves!

Move!

Left.

Clear! — clear!

Clear! — she sighs

Indistinct radio chatter

Karin:
Lifestyles of the rich and famous.

There. The forge.

Blue gasps

karin: Nice one.

Half the drives I sifted in forensics
had scorch marks on 'em.

Blue: What do you think?
— yeah. Looks like his toolkit.

And you can use it?
— pretty much the key to the door.

So you can get control back?
Send the deactivation?

Rasmus:
Well, I've got his source code.

I should be able to bounce him out.
— be quick.

Karin: Key to the door?

Our guy doesn't seem the type
to leave keys lying around.

Computer beeps — well, I'm in.

Ok. Deactivate her.

Yeah, I... I need to repair permissions.
— fucking hell.

That's weird.

What's weird?

Shaun: Time's ticking.
— that file wasn't there before.

This file? — yeah.

Computer beeps

what is it?

Blue?
— I think they're imei numbers.

What does that mean?

Erm, every phone, every...
Every device

has a unique number,
an imei number.

It tethers it to a unique user.
— yeah.

But I can check, just... reverse iookup.
— come on, we don't have...

Rasmus: Yeah, take it easy.

Karin: Who are these people?

Blue: I dunno.
There's 387,000 of them.

Are these ids
your spooks have been collecting?

No! Are you... are you ready yet?
— yeah, almost there.

Wait. Wait.

What was the name of that teacher?
Erm, hate cake.

Liza. Liza bahar. — Liza bahar.

Shaun: Fuck's sake.

This is a list of everyone
who's used the hashtag.

What?

Everyone who took part
in the game of consequences.

They've hoovered up their ID from gcho
by the looks of it.

That backdoor worked both ways,
it seems.

See if I'm on there. — what?

I posted the tag earlier
with scholes' face.

I was just trying to get a
reaction from him.

Come on.
— yeah, yeah, yeah, almost there.

Blue: Yeah, you're there.

Rasmus: Almost there.

Why has he collected everyone
who took part? I mean...

Computer beeps
— Rasmus: Ok. I'm ready.

Shit. — ok, run it now.

No. Think. He left us a trail.

Oh, come on.
— that photo with the whereabouts

it's too big a mistake for him.
He knew we'd do this.

Yeah, and now we're
shutting it down, alright?

And maybe that'll trigger
some endgame.

Something to do with that list.

What if those are his real targets?

The people on the list.

Everyone who took part.

Consequences.

The hate figures were the bait.

The players are the target.

Run the de—act command.
— wait, wait, just wait a minute, ok?

Run it. — karin: No!

Beeps

karin gasps

computer beeps

Rasmus: Yeah...

Yeah, it worked. — Shaun sighs

blue: Fuck.

Sorry, but that needed doing.
He laughs

beeps

alarm sounds

no, no, no, no, no.
— karin: What?

No. No.

Suspenseful music

Rasmus: Fuck! — karin: No.

Blue: Shit.

Oh, no.

Alarm continues

Music: "Fall into me"
by alev lenz

♪ follow me

♪ I'll show you the way

♪ out of this home

♪ out of this land

♪ fall into me

indistinct chatter

♪ and drown inside me

♪ I know you will see

♪ the beauty of me ♪

There's...

Window rattles

window rattles

He grunts

♪ Now you see

♪ all that I can be

♪ I know you will see

♪ the beauty of me

♪ tired are your splendid soldiers

♪ tired are they, here they go

♪ tired are your splendid soldiers

♪ tired are they, here they go

♪ tired are your splendid soldiers

♪ tired are they, here they go ♪

Woman: We're all tragically familiar with
the rest of the events of that week.

And we need no reminding
of the sheer scale

of the loss of life that followed.

No.

No, we don't.

Ambient music

Woman:
And what became of miss Colson?

I think she blamed herself.

Karin: I know she did.

She felt she'd followed
his breadcrumb trail

and sprung the whole thing.

She left the force.

I didn't hear from her.

Rang her, I tried emailing,
but no response.

Then, erm...

About four months later

they found her things.

On a beach.

With a note.

She breathes deeply

she killed herself?

That's the base theory, yes.

Miss parke

I would like to commend you

for sharing your testimony
and your time.

Thank you.

Thank you.

TV plays in Spanish

indistinct chatter

Crowd clamours

camera shutters click

Crowd clamours

Senon

gracias. — gracias.

Mobile phone chimes

Music: "Fall into me"
by alev lenz

♪ tired are your splendid soldiers

♪ tired are they, here they go

♪ tired are your splendid soldiers

♪ tired are they, here they go

♪ tired are your splendid soldiers

♪ tired are they, here they go

♪ ooh ♪