All language subtitles for the_avengers_s06e06_whoever_shot_poor_george_oblique_stroke_xr40

Tobin? Baines here. I'm in computer
section. You'd better get down here

away. Why, what's wrong? It's George.

I think he's thrown some sort of fit.

Did it happen? About five minutes ago,
soon after I fed him. He looks in a bad

way. And he was desperately trying to
tell me something.

I've tried all the emergency procedures,
but he isn't responding.

Attention. I have a message of the most
vital

importance.

I was on my way to a party.

Fancy dress?

Yes. I hope this is very important.

Very important murder.

One of the best brains in the country.

Oh.

Could set us back years.

That's a rather cold -blooded way of
looking at it. Pretty cold -blooded

Computer.

George.

Oblique stroke XR40.

The finest electronic brain in the
country.

Who's he?

Dr. Ardmore.

He's a cybernetic surgeon.

There's nothing for him.

I'll have to operate.

Can you risk moving him?

Operating is our only chance.

Now, let's see. I'll perform it here.

Have the whole of this area scrubbed and
vacuumed. I shall need two technical

nurses, a standby programmer, and an
electrical anesthetist.

Oh, Dr. Ardmore, this is Tara King.

She's on her way to a fancy dress party.

Mr. Tobin, Mr. Banks.

And how do you do? Bad businesses. Oh,
senseless. Quite senseless. The work of

psychopath. Twelve -bore shotgun, eh?
Yeah.

Both barrels.

Close range.

Murder. Cold -blooded murder.

Poor George never had a chance.

Was it he working on any special
project?

I don't think so.

Nothing strategic, was it, Tobin? No,
just routine equations.

Baines said something.

That's when he took sick.

Huh? George went haywire. Thought he was
going to blow a fuse.

I've never heard that happen before.

That was just after you fed the
equation, then? Yes.

Can we by any chance see the equation?

None at all.

They're locked away inside Georgie's
memory by now.

But my original calculations are at
home.

Maybe I could reconstruct them for you.

You don't own a dog, do you?

No.

Well, let's reconstruct.

Better get scrubbed up, Doctor.

Oh, yes, yes.

See, do you understand?

I can't be poor old George to face it
alone.

Besides, you might pop up the answer to
Bain's equations.

The lift's always out of order, I'm
afraid.

Primitive. But my apartment itself, ah,
that's another matter.

I designed it myself. The purity of the
right angle.

Not a curve anywhere.

Why, to have curves in my place would be
sacrilege. Um, in that case, perhaps

I'd better... No, no, the furnishings. I
don't like right -angled gold.

Although I don't mind girls with the
right angle.

Only one more flight.

I hope this equation of yours is worth
it. Oh, it's not mine. I'm not that

brilliant. Sir Wilfred Pelly devises the
equation.

That's the problem for George.

I just assemble them. Sir Wilfred gave
you the problem?

Yes, I was up at the house the other
day. Gave it to me then.

No!

A bit weak.

But I can boost the voltage when you're
through there.

Well, there it is.

Let's have you open up another three
inches.

Straight in, sitting here.

How's the racket?

You haven't got long?

Oh, failing.

Can't hold it.

Switch over to pure AC.

Responding, I don't think he can take
much more.

I'm nearly there.

Hold it.

Jump.

Small cutters.

Failing. Only a few more seconds.

From there.

Failing.

But he'll just blow a fuse and... Can't

hold it much longer.

Well,

I don't need much more of you now.

How was it? Touch and go, touch and go.

He's comical.

Take electrical shock forever to bring
him round now.

But at least I think I've saved his
memory, sir.

Electrospecimen.

Keep the voltage steady.

Pelly.

That's perfectly understandable.

You see, Sir Wilfred Pelly designed
George XR40.

In the moments of despair, he always
turned to our creator.

Pelly. Traitor.

Sir Wilfred Pelly a traitor?

Well, let's look at the facts.

It starts with the equation.

Pelly gave it to Baines, who fed it in
to George.

Baines is dead.

And George is disabled, perhaps for
good.

Still doesn't add up.

Unless... Unless?

Well, does George have judgment of his
own?

I mean, can he interpret facts for
himself?

I don't quite know what you're driving
at. Well, suppose Pelly is a traitor.

And suppose, I don't know how, just
suppose he betrayed himself in one of

equations. It's fed into George.

And George sees the implications.

George is going to tell the world, watch
out for Sir Wilfred Pelly.

So George is attacked.

His mechanism is ruined forever.

And Bane's too.

Not a bad theory, really.

It fits in with another factor, Pelly.

He's on leave. He's staying quietly at
home.

But if Flatter refuses to come back,
even in George XR's time of need.

You stay close to George.

A bedside vigil. I'm going to gatecrash
Sir William Pelly.

Good morning, sir. Good morning. Your
master at home?

Yes, sir. Sir Wilfred is at home, sir,
but... Yes?

Well, he has given instructions. He does
not wish to be disturbed.

He'll see me, John Steed.

Yes, sir, but... Don't worry. I'll take
full responsibility.

Thank you very much, sir.

Excuse me.

Mr. Steed, Sir Wilfred.

I made Mr. Steed aware of your
instruction. Entirely my fault, Sir

insisted.

Steed? From the Ministry.

Ministry?

Oh, I'm seeing no one. But, Sir
Wilfred... Just go away, please.

I don't think you fully understand the
implications.

I'm on holiday. I'm resting.

It's about George XR40, your pet
project. I don't wish to discuss it.

Excuse me, Mr. Wilford, it's not my
place to say this, but this gentleman

driven all the way from town.

We've always had a reputation for
hospitality, sir.

Oh, very well.

Can I get you a drink, sir? That's very
thoughtful. It is a little early.

George XR, you said.

He's been shot, you know that.

Yes, I heard about it. Aren't you
concerned?

Ardmore's working on it. He's a good
man. Excellent, but he's not up to your

standard. Get this straight, Steve. I'm
not giving up my holiday, not even for

George XR. I worked on that project for
three years without a break.

Before that, five years at Harwell.

Are you...

Remember that. This is an emergency.

It's always an emergency.

Is that your last word?

Well, I won't bother you again.

Good day, Sir Wilfred.

I'm very sorry, sir. You did your best.
He seems upset.

Sir?

How long has he been drinking?

Mr. Wilfred is over -tressed, sir.

You're loyal, anyway.

I think if your business is not terribly
urgent, sir, Sir Wilfrid really does

need some rest.

He really does need to be left alone.

Yes, very loyal.

I didn't tell him anything.
Nevertheless, he's suspicious.

You are a fool, Perry, feeding that
information into George. You are a fool.

George has been taken care of.

Temporarily. They're operating.

Preparing him now.

I'll have to stop George from talking.
Keep him out of action.

You'll have to tell me how to do it.

Look at those calculus circles.

Aren't they magnificent?

Capable of carrying out 2 ,000
calculations at once.

You just imagine, a shot disabled him.
Now, from the moment it was fired,

could compute the range, velocity, mass
kinetic energy, and the impact ratio.

Only one thing he couldn't do, really.

What's that?

Dark.

Having fun?

Well, she was saying yes to something.

Doubtless.

How's George?

Oh, hanging on. The last thing he
computed was two plus two equals five.

I'd always suspected that.

Out up to Ardmore. What are the chances?

Well, the next few hours will be
critical, very critical. We're feeding

electricity into him, hoping that he'll
respond. But to be perfectly frank, I am

amazed that he's held on so long. You
know, shock, amnesia, multiple

lacerations, to say nothing of severe
internal injuries.

Still, things may be better when Sir
Wilfred arrives.

He isn't. Full of the holiday spirit,
determined to keep it that way.

I'd like to see his file.

Why? Sir Wilfred Pellings.

Well, I suppose Tobin is the man for
that.

A man for what?

There's no files.

Certainly. Who is it you want? Sir
Wilfred Pelly.

Certainly. Get it for you. This way.

Looks like Pelly's turned crook. He's
behaving very suspiciously.

And full of more than the holiday
spirit.

Here we are.

What's the old boy been up to?

Just a routine check, that's all. Thank
you.

There's no point in us all missing
lunches. I mean, poor old George won't

a fit state to talk for some time here.
You run along.

I'll keep an eye on him. If there should
be any change... Oh, Tobin will let us

know immediately.

Looks as though Sir Wilfred's belly is
as clean as a whistle.

It looks.

Well, everything since the day he was
born.

And recently in charge of computers at
Fawley, Berkshire and Mapleton.

In fact, a totally unblemished
character.

Hmm.

But there is something wrong. He was
frightened. He definitely had something

hide. The way he turned his back on poor
George.

Left him wounded.

Defenseless.

Terry, but you could go...

Toby! Toby!

Come on.

What happened?

Someone behind me.

Oh, my head.

Doctor, quick!

He's been poisoned.

Poisoned? Yes, I've been poured into
him, about half a pint, I'd say.

You saw no one.

As I said, I was working at the bench,
and then suddenly... It's all I

Of course, the grounds were touched
immediately, but whoever did it had a

start.

That's it, then. Poor George.

No.

Not quite.

I have an idea.

This is Fred, isn't it?

Mark Treen.

George's ancestor, as it were. But, of
course, by comparison with George, a

-witted, empty -headed fool.

A moron. What are you thinking?

I was thinking of a transplant.

You see, George's brain is destroyed.

But his memory circuits just might be
unimpaired. Now, if I were to take

brain... But it's never been done.

Oh, I know.

But there's a chance, just a chance.

Anything's worth trying.

I agree.

It's impossible.

Well, maybe, but why not give it a try?
I agree with Miss King. Why not give it

a try?

Come on.

We're prepared to operate at once.

Tell me you've had quite a day.

I won't expect you to stop.

No, no, I want to help. I want to be
there when you do it. How long will it

take? Oh, Deborah, I... Well, I'll be
back later. You tell.

It looks as though my theory could be
right.

Someone's awfully anxious to stop George
talking.

I have a shrewd idea of who that someone
might be.

Pelly?

I'm going to push him a bit harder.

Offer him some bait.

See if he bites.

Steve, what kind of bait?

Me.

Indeed. I'd like a word with Sir
Wilfrid.

Uh, sir, um... Oh, just a very quick
word.

Well, we'll just wait here a minute.

Thank you.

Sir Wilfrid will see you now, sir. Thank
you.

How is he?

Not the same.

Sorry to bother you again, Sir Wilfrid.
I wanted to be the first to convey the

good news about George. He's on the
mend.

But that's not possible.

From the description of the damage, I'd
have thought him beyond repair.

Ardmore has come up with a new approach.

So you'll get the answer to your
equation after all.

My equation?

The one you gave to Baines to feed in.

What was the substance of that, by the
way?

What? The equation.

What was the problem that you fed in?

Oh, it was something to do with the
metal fatigue. I can't remember the

Oh, well, never mind. I'll find out for
myself at first hand.

You'll find out at first hand for
yourself?

Yes.

Baines was a good man. He was very
thorough.

He kept a duplicate set of notes in his
apartment.

Well, I'll be on my way to pick him up.

Good day, Sir Wilford.

Duplicate set of notes.

Jacob!

Jacob!

Thank you.

Who's the lady friend?

Sir? I don't want to put you in an
invidious position.

I know you're the soul of discretion.

And I have served Sir Wilfrid all my
working life, sir. And doubtless very

too.

You know, your sort of chap is just like
the dodo, the cracked egg.

Big thing.

Ah, well.

Seed.

The man just leaving.

He's on his way to Bain's apartment.

I know the place well.

Kill him.

No. Sure, sure. Follow him and kill him.

Your mistake started this thing.

Now we have to finish it.

Thank you.

He took the bait?

So what do we do now? Send in the
marines?

No, not yet.

We've no real proof.

We don't know exactly what Pelly's up
to. No, we've got to be more subtle.

Someone inside the house.

Infiltration? But how? Surely Pelly's
got... Uncle.

Wolfie.

Pelly has a niece.

She's an American.

She's brunette.

About your age.

And Pelly hasn't seen her for years.

You want me to... I want you to.

Oh, but surely Uncle Wilfie's going to
realize something.

Oh, I know. I think that, uh, kind of a
resemblance.

Now, the last time that Pelly saw her,
isn't she sweet, was exactly like that.

Prunella.

Prunella. And all the relevant details
about Prunella are in there.

Oh, by the way, I should make friends
with a butler. His name's Jason.

Very nice fellow.

Where's the resemblance?

The knees.

Good luck.

The net.

Jacobs is dead.

Don't ask me how. Steed, I imagine.

Then Steed is still alive?

All I know is I saw Jacobs' body being
carried out of the house.

I didn't stay around to ask questions.
Jacobs is dead.

But Steed's alive.

Still alive.

Pull yourself together.

They'll find out.

They'll find out. And they'll burst in
here. They can only find out if George

talks. If he blabs out your information.

And we still have Tobin.

He'll prevent that.

Yes, please.

Jason!

Oh, but of course you don't remember me.

Tell me, is that old ghost still here?

You know, wasn't there a story about a
ghost in the West Wing or something?

Well, yes, there was some local tale
about it. Oh, I think I'm going to love

here. I beg your pardon, miss.

Tell me, how's Uncle Wilfie?

Uncle? Uncle Wilfie.

Sir Wilfred Pellet.

Sir Wilfie, it's your uncle?

But of course.

Don't tell me you didn't get my letter.

But you must have. I got the address
from Dad, and I wrote it down on an

envelope. I forgot to mail it. Oh,
Prunella. Miss, um... Prunella. I'm his

niece. You see, I wrote him this letter
from America saying I was coming over

here, and I'd love to spend a few days
with him.

Well, never mind. It'll be a surprise.

Tell me, is he home?

Yes, Miss, but... I can't wait to see
him. Is he in here?

Uncle Wilfie?

It is Uncle Wilfie.

Now, surely you recognize me. The good
old Pellinese.

I mean, nose.

Prunella.

Prunella?

Oh. Oh, yes, of course.

Prunella. This is a surprise.

Well, it really wasn't meant to be.

What a beautiful place you have here.

Really, it's lovely.

Oh, I've so much to tell you. Mother
sends her love. How is your mother? Oh,

she's well. Everyone's fine, fine.

May I introduce my niece, Prunella? This
is Miss... Laurie.

How do you do?

She's staying here. She's my... Helping
your uncle.

A sort of general factotum.

Correspondence, finance, keeping house.

Do you have time to have tea with me?
Oh, well, I was hoping to stay here for

few days.

Stay? Now, isn't that convenient for
you?

Well, I... But of course you must stay.

I have to promise to keep out of your
uncle's hair, though. Of course.

He's been overworking recently.

Jason, put Miss Prunella into the blue
room.

If you will accompany me, Miss Prunella.

Certainly. I'll see you later, Uncle
Wilfie.

Yes, all right, later, my dear. We'll
have a long chat.

Staying for a few days.

What will you do now?

Well, what do you think?

She's... She's just a girl.

An innocent girl.

Lauret, I... Well, our work here is
almost finished.

If we can manage to keep her out of the
way long enough.

Make sure she doesn't stumble on
anything.

Will that be all, miss?

Yes, thank you, Jason.

Vandalism.

Vandalism.

How about the memory circuit?

Well, if you ask you to see it that far,
there's no point in continuing, Fro.

Watch.

Well?

Unmarked.

Still in perfect condition. Then we're
in luck.

Still the next step.

There is still the transplant.

But if we succeed, George will remember.

George will talk.

But we're near the end now.

And you promised.

You promised us full details of your
work on the seek and destroy mechanism

the anti -missile system.

You promised full details, Sir Wilfred.

What kind of range?

Guidance ratio.

The direct equation would be nine
stroke.

For heaven.

Sir Wilfred.

Uncle Wilfie.

Minor.

Ten squared.

Now we're getting somewhere.

AC terminals.

Check. DC terminals.

Check. Rotary circuits.

Check. Primary circuits.

What happens now?

Well, we have temporarily linked Fred's
brain to George.

But when we switch on, George may reject
Fred's brain. It is the crisis point.

Start at 100 volts.

Take sound.

Altsation.

Normal. Push it up to 250 volts.

Responding.

Responding.

The limit.

Full voltage.

This is the moment of truth.

I will either accept or reject.

Answer me!

Hello? Hello. Can I speak to John Steed?

He's in theatre at the moment.

Well, tell him it's urgent. It's Tara
King.

One moment.

Respond.

Normal.

All absolutely normal.

You've done it, sir. You've done it.

Masterly.

Thank you.

What now?

Well, we make the temporary connections
permanent, and then George...

We'll be a well computer again.

Mr. Steed, a call for you, Miss King.

Come on.

Soldering iron.

Flex.

Sutures.

Hello? Hello, Steed. I'm phoning from
the house.

Isn't that taking an awful risk? I
thought you ought to know. Now, just

Pelly's giving away secrets, giving them
away by the mouthful.

I suspected that.

I don't know what her relationship is
with Pelly, what kind of hold she has

him, but she carries a hypodermic in her
handbag. All getting very complex.

Well, it may be simpler than you think.

And there's someone else here, someone
hiding behind a locked door. The

mastermind. That's my guess. Well, I
intend finding out. Now, look, don't go

charging in. I'll call you later.

Tara. Tara!

Come on, Tobin.

You handle the mandatory circuits.

Certainly.

But why?

Well, perhaps he can tell us.

Not for some hours, he won't.

What on earth did you hit him with? With
a great deal of venom.

I suppose George is the only one who can
help us. Is he badly damaged?

Nothing we can't put right fairly
quickly.

Let's get started.

Go on, quick. Perhaps he's the only one
who can provide us with the answer.

It's no good, Steve.

I just don't believe your theory.

Pelley working for the other side?

That's the way it looked.

Why should he?

Ideology, bitterness.

Maybe you worked him too hard, that
stint at Harwell, weeks without a break.

Maybe.

Wait a minute.

You said Harwell.

Pelley was over there at Harwell.

Are you sure?

He was over there.

Funny. I'm sure he said Harwell.

In fact, I know he said how.

So he must have been lying or he was
trying to tell... See?

See?

Not at all.

Oh,

Jason. Can I help you, miss?

Shh, not so loud.

Listen, what's in there?

It's just a cellar.

Have you been in there recently?

No, I don't think, but... Listen.

Jason, I'm going to have to trust you.

Now, you know Uncle Wilfie's been acting
a bit strangely lately.

Well, I know he's been overworking. I
think it's more than that, and I think

answer's in there.

I've already told you.

Just an empty cellar. Hard to be news.

Well, I've got to open it up.

Now, you keep watch.

All right?

I'm beginning to suspect that you are an
imposter.

That's right.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to deceive you.

I have to get in here somehow.

Please don't apologize, miss.

You see, I am an imposter, too.

Help me. I am being held a prisoner in
my own house.

I'm being drugged and interrogated
daily.

Systematically, they are milking every
secret from me. My staff are being held

as hostages. They will kill them if I do
not cooperate.

Tobin is in with them. Tobin is a
traitor.

But the ringleader, the man behind it
all, is... The man who is posing as

my butler. Jason?

Tara. What a brilliant bit of cybernet.
I sent her in there. I told her to trust

Jason. Penny fooled them into believing
that it was a routine equation and then

George just converted it into ordinary
speech.

Brilliant. Good old George.

What about her?

How are you doing with him?

A few fine details and we're through.

Keller. Sir?

It's a dry night at Summerhouse.

It's wooden. Dry as tinder.

Somebody was in there.

Someone careless with matches.

No. No, you can't.

Carry on, Keller.

No. No!

Drop it.

I'll run you back.

You know.

Sarah. Sarah.

Ah, my prince on his fiery steed.

No, an asbestos -clad steed.

An uninflammable, unfiery state.

They were going to burn.

Yes, just like Joan of Arc.

Come on.

That's the lot?

Everything he knows.

Or knew.

Then let's move.

Well, what about him?

Keller started a fire in the garden.

No reason why it shouldn't spread to the
house.

Yes, fire is so very cleansing, don't
you think?

Here, Larry, put this in the car.

Well, what's holding you up, man?

I am.

Steve. You expect to stop us?

One man?

By strategy.

Strategy? I'm relying on a surprise
attack.

From the rear.

Well, that's the way to win wars.

Let's return to the prisoners and the
wounded.

Hello, hello, hello.

What are you doing? On the verge of a
major breakthrough.

Didn't know you were a physicist.

It has nothing to do with physics.

Well, can I help?

Hand me the scotch.

Scotch? A thimbleful.

We're nearly there.

Nearly where?

They allowed me to put a problem to
George of Leakstroke XR40. I asked him

give me the recipe for the most
deliciously potent cocktail in the

And he gave you the answer? He cut it up
in four seconds flat. Do you realise

that would take 500 bartenders four
years... Lighten me up, permission.

...to accomplish what George did in four
seconds? Final ingredient, an olive.

What now?

This. Oh, and this?

Go straight under the top secret
restricted list.