Original subtitles

Out of the fire of earth attraction, beyond the limits of the world, where

and machine and spirit unite.

Born by the power of lightning, into the 21st century.

It is the end of the beginnings. It is the time of super force.

Hello, insomniacs across the globe.

This is Dr.

Richard Alcott, your friendly psychic, ready to spend another eight hours

listening to you snivel over the phone lines to me about your pedestrian little

problems.

The phones are all lit up like the Fourth of July, proving again that you

don't get enough abuse during the day.

I'm ready for the first caller.

Eeny, meeny, miny.

Mo, you're on with the psychic doctor. Go ahead.

Oh, doctor, it's my daughter. She's disappeared.

I haven't heard from her in four months.

She's 18. Her name is Natalie.

And I thought maybe with your psychic ability... Natalie's about five foot

green eyes with dark brown hair.

Yes, yes, that's amazing.

Yes, I know.

Well, lady, your daughter's hair isn't dark brown anymore. It's bleach blonde.

And she's walking the streets in Gainesville.

Walking the streets?

What do you mean?

She's a hooker. A prostitute, get it? And you drove her to it with your

and your self -righteous mothering. Next call.

Whatever happened to you, Richard? You used to be so kind, so compassionate, so

caring. I wised up and smelled the coffee.

You know what?

I don't care if you are a psychic.

That doesn't give you the right to abuse people.

Perhaps not.

But it's my show, and that gives me the right to hang up on you.

Can you turn that stuff off, Mr. H.? I can't stand that guy. I'll turn the

speakers off in the lab, but I shall continue to monitor the broadcast.

How can you listen to that drivel?

I find it a fascinating sociological study.

You hear an amazing cross -section of humanity.

Oh, yeah, and one ugly psychic.

I beg your pardon?

I happen to think I look rather gorgeous tonight.

She's got my vote.

Wow. I wasn't talking about you, Xander. I was speaking about that jerk, Richard

Alcott. Is he for real?

Yeah.

As a matter of fact, I used to know him quite well.

We tested for Esper at the same time. He wasn't good enough, huh?

No, he was incredibly good.

Very sensitive and very psychic.

At the last minute, he got this radio talk show and withdrew his application.

He used to be a sweet man.

Well, he sure changed in the last couple of months.

What are you doing, FX?

Recharging the Millennium Power Pack.

The suit needs to be recharged?

Oh, yeah. The whole suit depends on the Millennium Power Supply.

If that charge were ever drained, I'd be like a sitting duck.

One more call and then a commercial.

Alcott, are you okay?

I guess we got somebody's fax machine again.

We'll do that residence in spot and come right back.

What was that?

Sounded like a bed spring.

I told you we should... Are you okay? I'm gonna get some air.

Officer Stone and Tyler.

Well, I didn't expect to see you here this late at night.

Crime never sleeps, Quince. I like to think it does.

But it's just a very light sleep.

Come on, be serious, man. What do you have here?

Well, it is my considered medical opinion that this man is dead.

What's wrong, Zach?

I'm not sure.

Is this the gun that he killed himself with?

Well, strictly speaking, he was killed by the bullet.

But did he use that gun?

I'm ruling suicide.

I know.

I feel it too. It's some kind of strange vibe.

I can't put my finger on it, though.

Neither can I.

One thing's for sure.

Olcott didn't kill himself.

But he was lying dead in the parking lot with his own gun in his own hand.

Zack, that's pretty straightforward empirical evidence for suicide.

FX, the world doesn't always lay out in a straightforward way. You know that.

Uh -oh. Your sixth sense is at work again, huh?

Look, all the evidence points to Olcott pulling the trigger himself, right?

I don't think he did it.

Xander feels the same way.

Someone or something else was involved somehow.

Guys, I'm a scientist. Can you be a little more specific?

Okay.

I felt this odd presence.

Something... hot.

And it was coming from the radio station itself.

Oh boy, I knew it. A homicidal building.

It could have been a psychic artifact.

An impression that permeates a place or an object.

That's how some psychics can pick up impressions from rings or keys.

I have an idea.

Hello and good evening.

This is the Richard Olcott Show.

As most of you probably already know, Dr. Olcott met with an untimely death

night.

My name is Xander Tyler.

I knew Dr. Olcott.

And I too am a psychic.

So please, give me a call and let's work through our feelings about this

terrible tragedy together.

She's good.

Real good.

Is she available?

No, I'm afraid not. Not until I have to get this thing figured out.

I don't know what you guys hope to accomplish.

I mean, even if it wasn't a suicide, what can she do?

Well, Xander's trained in psychology, so she can deal with the calls.

And she's a police officer, a member of the ESPER division.

ESPER? ESP.

She's a highly trained psychic, so if the person who's responsible for the

murder calls in, she'll know it's him.

So I don't know what I'm going to do now. I listen to Dr. Olcott every night.

Sir, I have to tell you, what I hear you saying is not a concern for Richard

Olcott, but a more egoistic concern for your loss.

Well... I think you should think about that.

We all should consider the loss not just as a personal loss, but let's think

about how Richard impacted so many others.

Share the burden.

You're on the air. Hello.

Hello. My name is Violet. Violet. That's a pretty name.

What's happening in your life, Violet?

I hate my parents. They don't understand anything.

They keep grounding me. They won't let me see my friend. My boyfriend gave me

anklet and they won't let me wear it. They said it makes me look cheap.

Ow!

What's that, Bowie?

Oh, yeah. That's somebody's fax machine or something.

Richard got mad at me. I was supposed to screen his calls.

Well, how did it get through?

I don't know.

Glitch in the phone computer or something.

Never came through my switchboard.

Zach, it's the last call that came through that night, before Olcott was

Boy, do you mind if we take that tape?

That'll help me, my guest.

We'll run it down to the lab.

Maybe E .B. can figure out what it is.

Who's E .B.? He's a friend of ours.

Knows everything.

Yeah, he's got a mind like a computer.

Next caller.

What's wrong?

Are you okay?

Yes, I'm fine. I just felt a little faint.

Maybe I need a glass of water or something.

Are you sure you're all right?

I said I was fine.

I just need a glass of water. Is that too much to ask for?

Sorry. Calm down. I'll get you the water.

Indeed. Yeah, what is it?

It has the qualities of a bitstream handshake.

A what?

It's a code that fax machines and computers use to communicate with each

Mr. H, can you decipher it? It's a unique code.

It could take some time.

Okay, while you guys are doing that, I think it's time to get back to the

basics. What do you mean?

Well, a lot of times people who kill public figures like to brag about it.

You think somebody's out there talking?

Yeah, I think it's worth a shot.

I got somebody you should meet.

I tell you that One -Eyed Jackson was incredible?

Yeah, yeah, about two hours.

He knows the city like no one else.

Really? He don't know traffic because he's late, really late.

He'll be here, you'll see. And he hears about everything that goes down on the

streets.

Greetings, boys.

Franklin! Franklin Xavier, man!

One -Eyed!

What's up?

Chilling, man. You've been waiting long.

Yeah, I've been... Zach, why don't you meet a friend of mine? One -Eyed

How you doing?

I and I be doing what I do, man.

Therefore, I am. What can I do you for?

You've heard about the death of Richard Alcott?

Now, there is a loss. But what no man shed a tear when a man's spirit is sick

by the way not stay long in this place or in the other place, man.

What? O .E .J., we think it may be murder, not suicide.

Has anybody been bragging?

Have you heard anything?

Maybe I haven't. Maybe I have.

Pay the man.

Well?

Not a thing, man. The bucket is empty.

Nothing, man. Hey, hold on here, Slick. I just paid you 50 bucks.

When first you squeeze the sapodilla, man, and the water be coming down on

face, man, don't be blaming Jackson, man.

Great leader, Beck.

Great guy.

Cost me 50 bucks to find out. He doesn't know anything.

Yeah, but, Zack, Jackson knows everything.

So if he doesn't know anything, then we've learned something.

Haven't we?

Fucking head.

I really don't think you have the guts to kill yourself.

And you know, I bet your mother doesn't think you can do it either.

Well, you're wrong. I'll show you. I'll show everybody. I don't even believe

you're a psychic.

Not only am I a psychic, but I'm a cop with the Esper Division.

So put that in your gun and smoke it.

Now, a word about Cellular One mogul folks.

What is she doing?

She can't say she's a cop. She's undercover.

What if the murderer's out there listening?

What about her attitude with the caller?

That's not like her.

It's Hungerford.

Maybe he's got Nancy.

Are you okay?

You seem agitated.

I'm fine.

Leave me alone.

It's all these idiots.

Public.

I then performed a Fourier dissection of the tone and subtracted the results.

Look.

Oh, no.

It's incredible.

The unmistakable signature of a computer virus.

Wait, Olcott was infected with a computer virus?

How's that possible?

It's not a simple computer virus, Zack.

This data stream originated in some highly sophisticated artificial

intelligence. Yeah, look.

This fuzzy logic bit made a programming all surrounded by innocent -seeming

logon data.

In fact, an average computer would be completely immune to this virus.

It's too complex.

Zack. This data stream was designed to infect artificial intelligence machines.

But it's so close to a human thought pattern that... Wait a minute.

A computer virus can infect a human. A human might be susceptible if their mind

was very open. Very sensitive.

Like a psychic?

Yeah, this virus was probably designed for some industrial sabotage.

To eliminate the competition.

And whoever created it probably used a modem to send it through the phone

And it got trapped there.

Right. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

The virus infected Xander. That's why she was acting so strange on the radio.

Zack, it's a kill program.

Shut off circuits.

Brain dead.

Oh, no.

What was that?

Sounded like a bed spring.

Where are you going? You're on after this break. I am sick of all these

I'm going to get some fresh air.

What is it about the show that changes these people?

Is it me?

Sandra,

stop.

Go away.

Leave me alone.

Sandra, listen.

Your brain is infected with a computer virus.

Come back to the lab with me. We've got to get it out of you.

Sounds like cheap science fiction, Zack.

Sandra, please listen to me.

I've always been annoyed by your urgency.

Did you know that?

She was an unwilling participant in her own rescue.

Right.

How do we do this? This neural link should let Hungerford draw the virus out

her mind.

Then my antiviral program should destroy it.

E .B., what if your antiviral programs don't work?

That could only happen if the programming of the virus is more

than I am.

But it did infect the human brain, E .B., so I ask you again.

What if your programs don't work?

Then I shall die.

And since you're connected to Hungerford via the neural link... Hungerford dies.

I die.

Zack, are you sure you want to go through with this?

She'd do it for me.

Stop!

It's me, Zack!

I'm trying to help you!

Who is Xander?

Who are you?

Let's go, go on.

Let's help Xander.

Oh, Xander, please concentrate.

Who is Xander?

Leave me alone.

Leave her alone.

Get out of her mind.

Come into mine.

You want me, huh?

Yes, I want you. I want you to come into me.

Then you've got me.

I remember sex in a virus.

How did it get into him?

I don't know.

You two have always been sensitive to each other ever since you went into his

mind. I guess it just jumped the gap between me.

Mr. H, how are you doing?

Quiet, FX.

This is difficult.

I must concentrate.

I must concentrate.

Mr. H!

Mr. H?

Yeah, I think so.

Thank God.

He'll be fine.

Mr. H, what happened?

Well, the virus proved to be a tricky little devil.

Rather than combat it head on, I routed it to the power generation circuits.

I'm afraid you have quite a repair job in your hands, my friend.

If I were you, I'd put in for some overtime.

Viacom.