Original subtitles

All right, now explode,

full power.

100%.

That is 100%.

PSI of those jabs is averaging 129.

On the power scale, that's...

Kitten. Sad kitten.

Left up

and sting it.

Speaking of sting,

Chet again.

And an a.m. drop-off.

See you again tonight?

Sure thing. Thanks for the lift. Yeah.

What's wrong with your bike?

New clutch is on back order.

I know we've both moved on,

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

She's just

so cold and mechanical.

You want to distract yourself from her,

then grow a set and focus.

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

Hello? Excuse me.

Can we help you?

Deputy Homeland Director Katherine Cooper.

Where is... Molina?

I'm Scorpion's Homeland liaison now.

Deputy director.

Downgrade.

She cutting our funding, too?

Your funding is intact.

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

because of the prior... interaction.

She wanted to leave me

to die

in a jail.

She's easily alienated.

You seem edgy.

Why are you so edgy?

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

I'm pressed for time,

and I have a classified mission to assign.

And it smells so bad in here.

Is that... intentional?

That is Toby.

Because this is

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

Walter O'Brien, Cabe Gallo, Happy Quinn,

- join me in my SUV. - Hmm.

You heading north or south?

Ooh, eye flutter

on “south.”

Huntington,

Long Beach, San Pedro...

San Pedro it is, meaning water.

The ports.

A frigate?

Can we leave now?

And you can only take three of the team,

so space is an issue.

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

Anyway, Homeland needs

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

deep in international waters off the coast of California?

Ooh.

They'll be needing me

to code?

I'll get my laptop.

And I will be building something,

so I'll get my tools.

And I will get my party hat

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

And I'll be going

to keep anyone from wanting to kill them.

Welcome to Scorpion.

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

You just disclosed details on a classified mission.

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

What's confidential?

Who's this?

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

my friend.

Hey, buddy.

He's using

my mug.

He's staying here?

You need to get...

Mr. Saigon out of here.

Things are dicey between Scorpion and Director Molina,

and you can't afford any more...

issues.

Walter, we never discussed Ray staying in the Airstream,

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

You got to go.

For the good of the team.

Okay.

Just need to get the Grem out of lockdown

and then... on my way.

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

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

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

to someone with a suspended license, which...

I don't even understand that.

Oh, this just keeps getting better.

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

to the curb? Just like that?

Yes.

I am surrounded by robots.

Now that we have some privacy...

We don't. I'm on comms

with the team. We'll stay that way

on the sub, piggybacking on the antennae.

Fine. But...

under no circumstances

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

The Navy insists

that remains classified.

50 bucks I can figure out their exact location anyway.

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

You have a serious problem. No duh.

We're going to San Pedro

to ferry you out to a special ops nuclear sub.

The mission is to analyze a Vulture,

an ocean floor data hunter,

attached to an underwater fiber optic cable

on the floor of the Pacific Ocean.

Attached by whom?

Not yet determined.

But the device is tapping a highly secure

line between the United States Department of Defense

and the Chinese government in Shanghai.

Happy, we need you to build

an extension to the submarine's arm.

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

into the listening device.

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

and identify whoever is intercepting

our communications.

Welcome aboard the XB-4.

I'm Captain Steven Jones.

This is Ensign Nathan Hall, our Bullgeorge.

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

We have eight other crew members

in the Forward Operational Compartment.

Ballast tank, trim tank,

reactor control, turbine control.

It's gearhead heaven.

And all highly classified.

What you see here stays here.

This mission is top secret. No one outside of Langley

knows our objective or location.

Captain, we're rigged for dive.

Very well. Take the Conn, submerge the ship.

I have the Conn!

Ahead two-thirds.

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

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

This, uh, crew is different

from most of the military we have worked with.

We get 18 months of training

before ever seeing the inside of a sub.

A lot of us here are nuclear engineers.

It makes the hierarchy a little different

from the rest of the military.

We do have a saying,

"When hundreds of feet below,

the power goes to he who knows""

Or she.

Or she.

Zing. Happy.

Great use of her humor programming.

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

Walter, what's your speed?

Uh, I estimate about 20 knots.

My lunch.

It's conveniently shaped.

And our best way of figuring out their location.

They left San Pedro

at 8:25.

Roughly 20 knots for 30 minutes.

Sub would head for closest, deepest water.

That would be right off the Palos Verdes shelf break.

Putting you 15 miles

east

of Catalina Island.

Miss.

Ah.

See, I don't like the mojo

of playing Battleship with an actual battleship.

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

32 degrees north...

117 degrees west.

Point Loma?

Call that a hit. Walter,

I'm gonna sink your battle sub.

Please, don't harm the...

...pickles.

Hey, we're dark.

No outgoing communication.

Half my team's on the mainland.

They will be the only half not incarcerated

if information is leaked. Your orders

to disallow communications are illogical.

Toby and Sylvester are part of this team.

I have my orders. You have my instructions.

And you will

follow them.

I think Captain just Crunched their comms.

I'm picking up bits and pieces,

but I can barely make anything out.

Follow me.

I thought they were supposed to be working with us.

Military protocol doesn't have a lot of flexibility.

Let's say we toe the line.

I still can't make anything out.

This cancels our bet. No bet. Bet off.

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

♪ To the left, to the right ♪

♪ It's just like, it's just like ♪

♪ A mini mall, hey, hey... ♪

You got to be kidding me.

Ma'am, it's not my problem

that your husband doesn't pay his parking tickets.

He is not my husband.

And $1,200 is $1,100 over

the value of the car.

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

Just a few forms to fill out.

Pen.

I'll handle it. Cool.

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

The rods and clamps I affixed to the main jib

will act like the arms of an arthroscopic surgery device.

Extending now.

We'll use the camera

to find the communication port

on the listening device.

There.

Not bad.

Access port exposed.

Happy, connect the cable.

And we're in.

Uploading their interface.

Toby calls us robots, but, tell me,

what's more fascinating than a robot?

Oh, he endlessly analyzes feelings,

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

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

I guess my role is to kick

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

We've analyzed the exterior

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

but no clue as to who put it there.

I'm in the main interface.

I thought this would take an hour at least.

Why are you stopping?

That seemed a little too easy. Happy,

detach the cabling for the device.

Aye, aye.

What are you doing? We're in the middle

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

that this is a dummy interface,

a lure to draw us into the system

to plant some malware

onto your sub

or something worse.

Worse like what? Aborting the mission

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

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

from that device as possible.

Walter, tell me what's happening.

Sir.

Whoa.

♪ Hey, hey, don't stop ♪

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

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

Flooding... engine room!

Something's wrong.

Come on, Happy. Not funny.

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

Reactor's scrammed. We've lost propulsion.

Lost depth control.

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

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

== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man

Is everyone okay?

Fine.

Good.

How did this happen? There was an explosive device

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

We need to do a vessel diagnostic.

I'll help. Electric has failed.

Engines have failed.

We're settled at a 40-degree angle.

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

the compartments between here and the rest of the crew.

Communications are out.

And my team doesn't know where we are

because you killed our comms.

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

until we don't arrive at our rendezvous point

in six hours, and for security purposes

only the people on the submarine

know the course that was charted.

Thank God they're alive.

"Electric down.

"Trying to get the hatch open.

We're compromised."

"No generator."

No oxygen system.

The shared ventilation system provides

all of us with roughly 150 cubic feet of oxygen.

Divide that by 13,

each consuming 1.5 cubic feet of oxygen per hour,

we have one hour and ten minutes of oxygen left.

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

You have immersion suits down here for underwater escape.

Uh, we do,

but not in this compartment.

Then we need to get a message out.

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

No, we're supposed to be running silent.

I believe our directive has changed.

The communications?

In the bow,

past that bulkhead.

Let me go check.

We're gonna need all hands. All hands.

Happy, come in.

XB-4, come in.

Yes, I'm here.

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

Tell Director Cooper there's an emergency.

Giving me the runaround.

Then run around her.

We're gonna go see this Cooper.

Your car is in the shop.

That was painful.

This whole experience has been painful. Odd.

Most people who come in here are real upbeat.

There you go.

Your keys.

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

Wrong. Where are the keys to your car?

I need them now.

They're in my purse.

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

I'm gonna explain later, but Cabe, Walter

and Happy are in serious trouble.

Okay.

Where the hell is he?

Ray! I got to go!

Oh, God.

Hey, they got doughnuts in the break room.

Paige?

Okay.

The water is freezing.

Yeah, well, at this depth

the temperature can't be more than 28 degrees.

You have an interesting breadth of knowledge.

The entire system

was shorted in the explosion.

I've circumvented a number of blown circuits to see

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

Okay, Cabe,

on my call, hit the breaker on the wall.

Go.

We good?

We are not good! Keep it out

of the water, or we're all dead!

That was close.

It's fried.

We have zero communication with the surface.

The only way we're gonna find them

is if we pinpoint their location.

Before they went dark, we had Point Loma.

Walter said they were at 20 knots.

I'm saying good guess.

This is an arc representing

35 minutes, 22 knots from Point Loma.

We don't know exactly

where the secret underwater cable is

that connects the U.S. and China,

but if it follows a similar route

to the Trans-Pacific Express cable...

And there's...

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

With a bite taken out of it.

Oh... God.

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

The rough coordinates

for Cooper-- I'm texting them now.

They're saying the sub has listed too far.

The silt is blocking their port hatch.

They can't get out.

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

I will not suggest that to the captain.

So they have the escape suits in their compartment

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

Even if we did have the immersion suits,

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

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

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

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

What's the depth rating of those survival suits?

225 feet.

Here.

There seems to be

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

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

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

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

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

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

is just likely death.

I should volunteer then.

I'll go.

I'm the biggest and most immune to hypothermia.

You know if you leave,

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

I'm the most expendable.

I can't risk Happy and you.

And you know the sub.

Greater good.

Greater good.

The Navy isn't going to send

a rescue

unless the sub misses its rendezvous

or there's proof of failure.

The Navy has absolutely no evidence

there's anything gone wrong with this mission.

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

Well, I told them that.

They're of the opinion

your team was listening in on an illegal signal

that just happened to break down.

Nothing to warrant a rescue mission.

My people are smarter than your people.

I have coordinates for where the sub might be.

You don't want to wake up tomorrow

knowing you could have helped save 13 people who died

because you followed the rules.

I feel like the Michelin Man.

Okay, Cabe, once you reach

the surface... You have one cartridge.

Parachute flare-- visible

for 30 miles.

When you get help, get the Navy to send

a Deep Submergence Rescue Vehicle out of San Diego.

Regardless of where we're at,

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

We'll be out of oxygen.

After you get rescued--

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

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

they can load down to us.

It'll give us enough air

to stay alive until the rescue.

All contingent, of course,

on you surviving the ascent.

I hadn't thought about that for a second.

Thanks for the reminder.

Okay, exhale slowly and continuously on your way up.

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

has the same air pressure as the surface.

Should be a quick trip up.

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

until hypothermia and, uh...

death.

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

He should be breaking the surface now.

If he's not, he's drowning.

God... please let this work.

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

No pressure suits?

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

Versus the odds of death in here?

We have 40 minutes of air left.

I'm two nautical miles into the search zone.

Haven't seen anything.

They've been searching 15 minutes

and only covered three percent of the target zone.

Your coordinates cover 50 square miles of open ocean.

It's gonna take a while.

Toby, you got to narrow it down.

We're working with a half-eaten hoagie

and a piece of chalk.

It's not like we're mind readers.

What it is like...

is a mini mall.

You have finally gone insane.

No, the video I was watching.

♪ Aw, yeah, come shop ♪

♪ With us ♪

While you were guessing locations,

I was watching that video.

When you made your second guess to Walter,

he was singing, ♪ It's just like ♪

♪ It's just like a mini mall. ♪

And when you made your third and correct guess,

he was saying living rooms, dinettes.

The time between those two lyrics

is 14 seconds.

We now know the distance they traveled between two spots

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

Which gives us their accurate speed, not a guess.

15.38 knots,

not 20. Walter overestimated.

Their location is 117.03 west

and 32.05 north.

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

but there is a commercial vessel in that area.

I'll reach out to them.

Where are you going?

I'm getting us a chopper

and getting us on that rescue boat.

Help!

Did you hear that?

Cabe.

Oh, that tough son of a bitch made it.

Thank God.

Sir, phone.

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

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

we got to work fast.

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

a winch from a tow truck,

three brass circa 1935-40 electric fans,

a waterproof box, a GoPro camera,

a 14-inch diameter pipe

and a battery pack.

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

Mr. Quinn.

Fellas. Been a while.

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

your help and a load of equipment.

Starting with the winch on your tow truck.

We got to move fast. Paige'll be here

with the chopper in ten minutes.

Chopper?

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

I didn't know you knew Morse code.

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

Our time frame for the oxygen supply

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

I'm ashamed to say that

my breathing might be similarly impacted right now.

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

We're not military.

We take our orders from math and science.

Right now we know the odds of survival are slim,

but we know that mathematically there's a chance.

Some people call us robotic,

mechanical.

But in situations like this,

our constitution

is a benefit.

"Still safer than an airplane"?

Why is he communicating that?

We know subs are safer because there are

more airplanes in the water than submarines in the sky.

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

Somehow they're managing to joke.

Humor--

at a time like this--

that isn't something a captain would normally order.

Not standard operating procedure.

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

tack.

What are you getting at?

An unconventional solution.

Okay. Uh...

Now, mathematically, their lives--

yours and Happy's as well--

are collectively more valuable than mine.

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

If we flood the chamber

with an exact amount of water,

we can cause the sub to correct position,

freeing the trapped sailors' hatch.

Just 18 degrees would be enough to get the hatch

out of the silt.

The others have immersion suits--

they could leave via the hatch, reaching the surface.

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

If we flood it even partially,

the rising water will compress the air above it.

We breathe in that compressed air,

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

We'll die from the bends.

We're trapped. That is right.

We'll need to leave in a pressurized chamber.

That means waiting for a sub rescue

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

That's why we should make you both improvised suits

like we did for Cabe. You both leave

and I will flood the chamber.

Nine people escape the boat,

oxygen usage drops,

leaving me a few more minutes of air.

Anyone could make the same calculations.

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

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

In order to flood this compartment

with the exact amount of water, you need to close

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

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

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

It's really a three-person job.

Three of us

working together maximizes the odds of success.

How did my quiet day turn into this?

Come on. Time's a-wasting.

When the water gets to this level,

we close the hatch,

okay?

Ready?

Okay.

One, two...

Damn it! Not good.

That's just what Happy says.

Come on.

Lean into it!

Not smooth, but effective.

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

We're shifting.

Whoa!

It worked!

Their hatch is clear.

"Thank you.

And Godspeed."

I have to agree that personality-wise

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

She was chatty when she was really young.

She was talking in full sentences

at seven months old. I got her

a dollhouse when she wasn't even three yet.

She put in her own wiring with working lights.

I was terrified it was gonna be a fire hazard.

I... pulled them all out.

Next day, she rewired it.

Had to take it away.

That's about when she started getting quiet.

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

You like my daughter, don't you?

I love your daughter.

All right.

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

One more should do it.

Thank you. You okay?

Honestly?

No.

This is my first day on the field.

I'm in the middle of the ocean,

on a trawler, trying to save lives.

It just might be

too big a first bite for a desk jockey.

Before Scorpion, I was a waitress.

Feeling overwhelmed is part of the job,

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

You'll learn, too.

Guys?

Yes! Yes!

Either the ocean is lousy with mermen or those

are our submariners!

Get these men out of the water!

The crew made it.

Hopefully your tank's on its way, Happy.

So now our lives are in Toby's hands.

Fantastic.

They're still stuck down there without enough oxygen.

Three people use six liters per minute,

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

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

give or take a few seconds. Rescue sub's

35 minutes out. The tank that we made

gives them 45 minutes of oxygen.

If this works, it saves their lives.

We're hooked up!

Let's go!

Dear God, let this work.

There it is!

My daughter's in there.

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

I just want to say

I'm not really a robot.

Thank you for clarifying.

I did know you weren't made of circuitry.

We both play a good game of denial.

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

but...

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

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

I just never expected

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

I saved nine sailors' lives instead of us.

I... supported that act

with calculations.

But perhaps there was...

some sentimentality attached.

And, uh,

you let that certifiable lunatic

stay in our garage.

Uh...

Maybe we're changing.

Maybe...

maybe I'm not a robot either.

You're not normal people, are you?

Greetings submerged. Toby Curtis here,

talking to you underwater.

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

We're connecting an oxygen tank now.

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

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

Don't say that.

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

won't mean a poot.

You're still recording.

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

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

Come on!

There!

Forward!

Now!

They did it!

I have never been so happy to smell garbage.

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

A good sized tank.

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

Okay, so, how big's the tank?

About eight feet by three feet.

Can we use this tank as a getaway vehicle?

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

The tank would never even make it to the surface.

It would just sit there, suspended

about 100 feet off the bottom.

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

Should be enough for about 45 more minutes.

Something wrong?

The-the-the... the air.

Smells like the fridge in our garage.

It's sulfur.

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

It's coming from underneath this compartment.

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

caused a chemical reaction that produced sulfur.

Ah, the sulfur's not the problem.

The same reaction could also produce chloride.

That's the problem.

What are you doing?

Walter's right.

It's chloride. Okay.

I've been around enough batteries to know

breathing in that stuff will dissolve your lungs.

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

It's more like five.

Okay, sailor,

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

Ensign? What are you going?

There's a very specific protocol on this sub.

Self-destruct?

If our enemies capture this sub,

its technology could be used to kill thousands

of Americans or our allies.

In the event that the craft is disabled,

the last officer on board has to initiate the sequence.

But the Navy's on their way.

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

What if they run into logistical problems,

which is very possible?

What if whoever planted the device that we came here for

tries to get it as soon as we leave?

That's why the protocol's in place,

and that's why we have to follow it.

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

Maximum five minutes.

Initiate countdown.

In five minutes, either

the air fills with poison, or we explode.

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

Walt,

we've got less than a minute now.

This is when you normally think of something brilliant,

so how's that coming?!

An escape pod.

The oxygen tank could be used as an escape pod.

I asked for brilliant.

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

We're just sit gonna there in the water.

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

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

You really think

we can ride the explosion of this submarine?

Yes.

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

Okay, look, get up the trash chute

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

Go. Go.

It's not gonna be comfortable.

Okay, you go.

I need to make sure the ship goes down.

So you're gonna rigidly adhere

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

It's my duty. Your duty is to save

as many lives as possible. That includes your own.

Okay? Okay?!

Okay, okay. You first.

All right.

Okay.

Come on! Come on!

I don't fit!

Come on. Okay, just relax.

Relax? Why?

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

Aah! Yeah.

Aah! You can fit through the hole now.

Oh!

All right, Happy, get us out of here.

Just reversing the spin on these fans!

Any way we can go any faster?

No. Now shut up and brace yourself.

Just talked to the rescue sub.

Ten minutes out.

Oh, no.

Happy.

Cabe, tell me this didn't just happen.

Hey, dummies!

A little help?!

They're alive.

Thank God.

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

Good work, fellas.

I just wanted to say, uh, thank you.

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

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

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

you don't always live by the numbers.

Sometimes you trust yourself, believe in your team

despite the numbers.

There's another variable in there

that you're not copping to.

Hey.

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

There he is. Big Ray!

Where you been?

I just hitchhiked from Gardena.

- Whoa. - Yeah, I guess

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

Ray? Hi.

Hey. I'm...

Excuse me, fellas.

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

We... It was an emergency.

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

Here. Oh.

Still hungry. I just...

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

Please sit. Yeah?

A burger? Want to sit down?

Yeah, sounds great.

Makes up for a 22-mile walk.

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

thought you and I could restore it together?

I'll be your apprentice.

Like the list you sent from the sub?

I did a good job following the instructions, right?

It's something we could do together

with our clothes on.

Do not... shrink me.

And I am not very comfortable

with you having in-depth conversations with my father.

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

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

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

Deal.

So wait a minute.

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

I know we've got our marching orders

from Cooper regarding Ray.

But... I learned a bit

about following orders today--

about being robotic is not always the best course.

Well, despite what Cooper said,

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

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

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

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

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

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

Any theories?

Contact with humanity.

It's confusing.

I made a decision today

that saved nine people's lives by lying.

I always thought that emotional decisions

might compromise Scorpion's survival,

but today they led to survival.

Maybe it's worth, uh, rethinking

other conclusions that I've come to regarding

avoiding... emotions.

Mom!

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

It makes the most sense to start out

with something logical and uncomplicated.

I think, uh...

I think he's right.

Robotics is the smart choice... for now.

Robotics it is.

Uh, but not for everything.

Ray?

You don't have to pack up your stuff.

You can stay as long as you want.

Sweet. Thanks.

Absolutely, buddy.

Wow.

Well, hey,

let's get this party started!

Pardon. Oh.

♪ ♪

== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man

www.tvsubtitles.net