All language subtitles for S01E03 - In a Lonely Place

Humanity has spread to the stars.

We set out like ancient seafarers
to explore the limitless ocean of space.

But no matter how far we venture
into the unknown,

the worst monsters
are those we bring with us.

"Once upon a time,
in a village in the woods..."

Don't read it, Tak.

I want you to tell it our way.

Okay. You ready?

"Once, there was a cruel father
who had two kids.

He was called Mad Mykola."

"He was a miller, but he made the kids
do all of the work."

- Where do you think their mom was?
- There are never moms in these stories.

Come on, keep going.

"The girl and the boy worked so hard,
that one night they fainted."

"Mad Mykola
found them lying on the floor,

and he threw them both into the mill."

"Then he thought, who's going to do
all the work for him?"

"So he went into the village,
stole more children.

He killed them, cut them up,

and took their bits and pieces
to the loom."

"And stitched all their bloody dead parts

into one huge, strong, creepy thing."

"The Patchwork Man.

But it turned,
and it ripped Mad Mykola to shreds."

"Then it went out into the world.
But its body kept falling apart."

"So to this day,
the Patchwork Man wanders the streets

looking for children to kill,
to cut up, and to sew into himself."

We're on a new world now,
new lives. Stop complaining!

Why can't you just be grateful?
Just once, hmm?

You know what your problem is?

You don't know how to be appreciative
for what you have.

I'm sorry, Jakub. I am so lucky.

You're right. I... I'll be better.

I don't care what you do.
Just stop complaining!

We stick together, Rei.

Never face the monsters alone.

An invitation arrived for you
with the dawn.

I doubted you wanted it in the shower.

It requests your presence
at Suntouch House this evening.

I'm afraid I have other pertinent news.

Miriam Bancroft was not the only one
in attendance last night.

The room's privacy settings
were compromised.

To be vulgar, I was hacked.

I have no explanation how this drone
eluded my security protocols,

but it did acquire... footage.

You're fucking kidding me.

Yeah?

Mr. Kovacs, I sent you an invitation
some hours ago.

- Is there a reason you haven't replied?
- I'm not big on dinner parties.

It's a party in name only.

The guest list includes everybody I could
think of who might have a reason want me dead.

You made a list of everyone who wants
to kill you and invited them to dinner?

Oh well, they're hardly gonna come
for an interrogation, are they?

Do you want me to chat them up
at the buffet line?

I mean do I need to explain the risks?

I think you can manage three courses
and a digestif.

See you at 7:00.

Do you believe he is aware of your conduct
with Mrs. Bancroft?

I believe he's smart enough
to try to kill two birds with one stone.

I mean I'm not strolling into that dinner party
with a bull's-eye on my forehead.

Oh, I would gladly accompany you
if I could,

- but alas, I cannot be elsewhere.
- What do you mean?

My neural network
is part of the building itself.

Think of the hotel as a body,
of which I am the brain.

I am the hotel.

The hotel is me.

Which leaves you
without a man in the field.

You as a wingman
wasn't quite what I had in mind.

You're like a computer program, right?
You can go anywhere you want on the Array.

Anywhere data flows, so can I.

What kind of virtual protocols
do you have on time?

- A veritable cornucopia, ranging from...
- Psychosurgery therapeutics?

I've never sought that specific license,
but I can.

How long would that take?

Done.

Are you to be the patient?

No.

- Hey.
- I'll take care of it.

Oh, here she is.

Ms. Prescott. To what do I owe
the complete lack of pleasure?

Detective Ortega. Nice to see you, too.

And save the attitude.
I'm just here to invite you to dinner.

I'd rather starve.

I'm afraid you don't have much choice.
Captain, perhaps you could...

Ms. Prescott has requested a permit
for an Extreme Organic Damage event

at Suntouch House tonight.

This permit's time-stamped
two hours ago.

Fucking Meth bullshit.
No one gets these approved that fast.

Be that as it may, Mr. Bancroft
would like you to monitor the bout

on behalf of the Bay City Police.

That's a job for a Uni.

You've been specially requested.
It's an honor.

Thank you, Captain.

And I'll see you tonight, Detective.

Seriously? I have cases to work.

You can work them tomorrow.

Tonight, you kiss the ring.

Whatever this thing is
with you and Bancroft,

I need you to bury it
for the good of the department.

So just go, accept the honor
of being invited to the Aerium

on behalf of all us lowly grounders.

Smile, nod, and then get the hell out.

- Ah. Just the man I'm looking for.
- Shut up and get out.

Can we skip to the next part,
or do I gotta knock you out again?

This time, I'm ready for you...

See, if you want to lose a fight,
you should talk about it first.

This some of your
terrorist brainwashing bullshit?

Nah, just some friendly advice
from the guy who just disarmed you.

- What do you want?
- To offer you some gainful employment.

Which you could clearly use.
You were pretty good backup.

I thought we could work a trade.
You help me, and, uh... I'll help Lizzie.

I'm not letting you near my daughter
ever again.

She needs psychosurgery.

- Who's gonna pay for that?
- I'll just put it on the Bancroft tab.

I'm not taking anything from that fuck.

I don't think he did it.

He's into consensual death.

- He replaces the sleeves he kills.
- That's fucked up.

- It's true. Doesn't make him guilty.
- Sure as hell doesn't make him innocent, either.

Let's make a deal. I'll keep looking into
what happened to Lizzie,

and if I find out that Bancroft did it
and you wanna blow his brains out...

I'm not gonna stop you.
I'll hand you the fucking gun.

You don't care about Lizzie.

Don't take this personally, but...

I don't care about anyone.

But if it gets me what I want,
I'll still help her.

How?

- Salutations.
- Seriously, you've gotta stop that.

You've brought a friend
to my humble establishment.

Greetings, fine sir.
It is an honor to make your acquaintance.

- Who's this?
- I'm his partner.

No.

- I'm his esteemed colleague.
- Still no.

I am the proprietor of the hotel.

He is the hotel.

- This is Poe.
- I knew this place was too empty.

- Is this one of those freaky AI place...
- You are in the Raven.

An establishment of peerless repute,
timeless quality.

And extra room, virtual and otherwise.
Tell him, Poe.

I have upskilled for psychosurgery
to Protocol Level Nine

and prepared a VR suite for your daughter.

She must be removed from human contact.

Every time she is spun back up,
her mental state deteriorates.

- So you're saying...
- I can heal her mind.

But you will not be able to see her.

For how long?

I cannot say until I've assessed her.
But her condition sounds severe.

- I won't be able to talk to her?
- No.

Not at all.

Do I have your consent?

In the field, you're under fire...

a guy goes down, he's injured,
but he's too heavy to carry.

You rip his stack and you move on.
Kill a sleeve to save his life.

I'm afraid I cannot construe
your graphic war...

I understand that sometimes you have to
get burned to pull somebody from the fire.

I consent.

Your faith in me is not misplaced, sir.

If it is,

I will personally reduce this place
to a smoking pile of rubble,

and you along with it.

Ah.

Lovely.

So what do you want from me?

You look like a man
with friends in low places.

I need some hardware.

What are you doing?

Detecting.

That is my job after all.

Okay, think about this.

What do we really know
about Mary Lou Henchy?

What? They found the body.

Tanaka was right.
The mom got what she wanted.

Yeah, but we didn't clear it.

That would be,
as I believe you pointed out,

because it's not your case. Leave it.

What we know is...

she fell out of the sky from nowhere.
Which is impossible.

So she must have been
tossed out of an aircar...

Still not your case.

Mary Lou Henchy was thrown
from somewhere up high.

And quite a few of the people that
live up there will be at Suntouch tonight.

All the times we've wanted
to question Meths and been stonewalled,

and now... I've been invited
into a house full of them.

You know, your father asked me
to look out for you before he died.

Perfect. Then you can patch into my ONI
and remote scan their vehicles.

Absolutely not.

Why do you have a picture
of Chief Justice Ertekin on your monitor?

Because she's gonna be
at Bancroft's tonight,

along with all these other Meths.

It's the guest list.

AKA potential suspects
in Mary Lou's death.

It's gonna be great.

Gotta find something to wear.

Good news, everyone.
It's sugar skull season again!

Día de los Muertos is tomorrow
and preparations are in full swing.

Takeshi Kovacs?
What kind of schizophrenic name is that?

It's Slavic and Japanese.

In the case of my parents,
a match made in hell.

Here you go. There we go.

Okay, take care, you guys. Be good.

- Here.
- The fuck you talking about?

I said I needed weapons,
not malted milk balls.

Point-one-six percent actual fruit.

Go on.

- Credit check.
- Fuck you, credit check,

you broke-as-fuck jarhead.
I ain't got no freebies.

Nothin' for you.

Credit approved.
Beryllium level.

That's right, motherfucker.
Beryllium level.

- Consider these classic beauties.
- No.

If I wanted cheap and legal,
I'd go to HugeMart, not you.

Stop trying to unload your old inventory
and show us the good stuff.

Ingram 40 flechette gun.

Now this is what I'm talking about.

- Prototype?
- CTAC R and D.

Uses flanged armor-piercing rounds.
Ten-round clip. Homing tech onboard.

- Don't put your hand there.
- Why?

Here, I'll show you.

Son of a bitch!

Put the gun down.

You two are sweet.

Stay down.

That's why.

Reverse the field generator,

the flechette homes
through a plasma chamber,

autoloads right into the mag.

You could have skewered me
like a kebab. Twice!

I'll take it.

That's a nice piece of custom
you got there. You mind?

Modified second series Nemex?

Hey!

- Where did you get this?
- A guy who doesn't need it anymore.

- Fair enough.
- You got any blades?

Yeah.

Tebbit knife.

Tantalum steel alloy blade.
Flint in the pommel for weighting.

- Bioweapon coating?
- Runnel's coated with Reaper.

Uh, betathanatine. Shit scientists
cooked up to study near-death experience.

Deeper you stab,
the more dose you get.

Ring it up. Plus whatever he wants.

Uh, give me a... Ooh. Sunjet 2320.

Yeah.

Classics never go out of style.

You must learn the weakness of weapons.

This sleeve is a tool.

It does not control me. I control it.

The true strength of the wolf isn't fangs,
speed, and skill. It's the pack.

Whatever world you needlecast into,
build a pack.

Find ways to inspire loyalty
in a few capable locals.

Even if many of them
will ultimately be expendable.

We are Envoys.

And we take what is offered.

What's with all the pink?

It's Poe's idea of nonthreatening.

Looks like the inside
of someone's stomach.

She's not saying anything.

It's not working.

I am here for whatever you require.
You have my most solemn oath.

They took Mommy away
because she stole stars from the sky.

They ripped her soul out
through her eyes and froze it.

Now she just spins around and around,

a dancer in the frost.

She has icicles in her hair.

I will let nothing harm you in this place.

No. Where'd they go?

She spoke! She spoke.

She did. He's making progress.

He's not even human.

- What the fuck am I doing?
- The right thing.

She's a guest now.
I mean, he'd die to protect her.

Poe can be very... focused.

She's safe.

Which means I kept my part of the bargain.

So now you want me to go to Bancroft's
with you to a party?

I don't know what I'm walking into.
I need you to watch my six.

Shopping and a night out.
You need to get a girlfriend, man.

I'm not bringing you along
so you can take a shot at Bancroft.

- You're there to watch my back.
- I got you.

Nothing else.

I got you.

Gonna need to search the bag, sir.

I would've left it in the car, but I
really don't trust this neighborhood.

Drink, gentlemen?

Fuckin' penguin suit?

My apologies, sir.

I'm afraid this is the best I could do
on such short notice.

No weapons on the grounds.

Son of a bitch.

I like your idea of fashion.

- Or is this your "something unique"?
- "Something unique" what?

Laurens asked everyone to bring
something utterly unique.

Didn't he tell you?

A theme party? What is he, 12?

I assume he has ulterior motives.

There was a spybot in our room last night.

Someone was watching.

Were they?

I trust my charming wife
is keeping you entertained?

Extremely.

My apologies then, but you and I
have got some business we need to discuss.

Meet me upstairs.

- See you in a moment.
- Mmm.

Miriam.

Be careful.

All right.

Everyone on the invite list
is accounted for,

so let's start checking them off.

Oh, only 276 aircars to track.

We only need flight logs
for one specific night.

And most of the cars were on the ground

in the time Mary Lou Henchy
could have been tossed.

They'll be easy to eliminate.

Yeah, easy for you to say,
because I'll be doing it.

- Quit bitching.
- I'm not bitching.

- You gotta be kidding me.
- What?

- Son of a bitch Kovacs is here.
- Okay, try to relax. Have a cocktail.

- They've got the good stuff up there.
- You don't even drink.

I'm a Muslim, not a monk.

I don't begrudge you infidels
a little mood modification,

especially if it makes you lay off
your crazy conspiracy theories.

Thanks. I appreciate that.

Anytime. That's what I'm here for.

Kristin Ortega, BCPD. Organic Damage.

Normally a street cop does that.

Yeah. Don't fucking remind me.
Fighting licenses?

Sir, you have to lose the ring.

My sleeve got killed in the last bout.
This one's got bigger hands.

- But it's a wedding ring so...
- I made him jam it on.

You... You guys are married?

Gotta provide for the kids somehow, right?

Hey, Lieutenant.
Like the uniform.

- Who are these guys?
- They fight to the sleeve death.

The winner gets an upgraded combat sleeve.
The loser gets a downgraded one.

- And they're married.
- We have kids. Want to see a picture?

What? So you go home to your kids
as strangers?

Oh, they're used to it.

- How old are they?
- Five and seven.

They're not used to it.

I need a drink.

Why are you here?

- I told you, there's nothing here for you.
- Someone bugged my room last night.

That feels like something.

You think any one of these people
would bother spying on you?

They were either watching me
or Miriam Bancroft.

Miriam was in your room last night? Why?

Looking for leverage.

She get any? Leverage?

I think you'd be more interested
in who was spying on me.

You slept with a suspect?

There's no suspect
if there's no case, right?

That's not a denial.

Stay out of my way.

No problem.

Something you wanna tell me?

Yes, I've been giving some thought
to which of our guests

might warrant your attention

and which certainly are not suspects.

I thought you were gonna tell me

about your habit of going to biocabins
and beating women nearly to death?

Didn't consider it
to be particularly important.

Yes, I have spent some time
in purchased sexual release,

both virtual and real.

But then, I've also spent time
offworld gambling

or indulging my passion
for null-gravity knife fighting.

You certainly find some enemies there.

But I have never taken a single life.

Unlike you, I have a line
that I am very careful not to cross.

- You better watch yourself.
- Are you okay?

My son cannot hold his liquor.

Maybe he pulled the trigger.

Isaac? I only wish he had the balls.

Often wonder where I went wrong
with that one.

- Gave him every advantage.
- Except one.

There's a natural order
to birth and death.

Boy changing to a man. You interrupted it.

Natural order? You sound
like one of those insane Neo-Catholics.

You've lost comrades, Mr. Kovacs.

People you cared for... or loved, even.

If you'd lived in this time,
you could have them all back.

So whatever the price is,
surely you'd be happy to pay it.

Death isn't up to us to give or withhold.

Oh.

You think we should leave it up to God,
do you?

Oh, Mr. Kovacs, haven't you heard?
God is dead.

We have taken his place.

If you're a god, then, uh,
what the hell do you need me for?

Every deity has minions.

Observe. Absorb.

Find what others have missed.

He throws a party
with his brains on the wall as decor.

Best news of the year?
When I heard he got torched.

I once hated Laurens.

But 100 years pass
and you realize there's just no upside.

We are all going to go through the rest
of humanity's future stuck together.

Excuse me.

I can't believe we've never met.

Been offworld. Just came back
to settle an old debt with Laurens,

but someone else beat me to it.

You don't approve?

It's terrifying that a killer
could get to one of us.

Sickening.

You don't think he killed himself?

Whoever murdered him
must be found and punished

or we're all in danger.

Abboud, I want you to scan someone for me.

Guy I'm looking at
wasn't on the invite list.

I don't see anybody.

Where the hell have you been?
You're supposed to be watching my back.

These people drink like fish.
I keep having to get refills.

- Are you even listening?
- No.

Jesus Christ!

Give us a moment, please?

Only way you stay
is if you're unconscious.

It's your call.

- You can't say anything about this.
- Who are you?

- You know who I am.
- I know who you're not.

- I have no idea what you mean.
- What's my name?

Uh...

Fine. I'm Naomi.

The 12th daughter.

And you are?

Wondering why you're fucking
in your mother's sleeve.

Her clones are state of the art.

Why wouldn't I want
to take 'em for a spin?

I have fun, okay?

And friends like Curtis
have even more fun.

The gun that killed your father

was locked in a bio-coded safe that
only he or your mother could open.

Mmm-hmm.

Or a kid wearing her mother's sleeve.

First of all, I'm not a kid.
I'm 67 years old.

And secondly, if my father dies,
like, real death dies,

the family gets nothing.
It's written into his will.

So, if I killed him, I'd be penniless.
And I do not do penniless.

That's how he protects himself.

For children who were
never allowed to grow up...

greed isn't the only motive for killing.

Excuse me,
is this young man bothering you?

I was still talking!

He told a joke about a samurai
having carnal relations

with an alley cat.

It was a metaphor for my experience
with Japanese assholes like you.

Your deal with Mr. Bancroft
hardly requires you to endure abuse.

Apologies.

That accord was months in the making.

It will not be broken by this child.

Excuse me.

Get off me!

How drunk do you have to get
to go Oedipal on the old man?

I'm not stupid. He's backed up.
We're all backed up.

Mr. Kovacs,
what do you think you're doing?

Isaac, are you okay?

You're crazy. You know that?

I expected something more impressive than
slamming a spoiled child against a wall.

- Maybe I was wrong about you, Mr. Kovacs.
- Since we just met, chances are good.

Clarissa Severin.
I deal in art and antiquities.

And you're the Envoy.

Oh, don't worry. Oumou didn't say a word.

Laurens has been obsessed
with Quellcrist Falconer for...

Well, forever.

I really must thank you.

The finder's fee for something as unusual
as you was really quite considerable.

Find you at the bar, Oumou.

What finder's fee?

Do you understand what's at stake
if you humiliate yourself by...

Doing my job? Why do you suddenly care
about my table manners?

This isn't about me. It's about you.

My behavior isn't the issue...

How many non-Meths
are guests at this party?

Two. You and me.

Do you know how many years it took me
to get invited into this house as a guest

and not the help?

- You want to become one of them.
- I will become one.

- What's this finder's fee?
- Oh...

Clarissa suggested bringing you back and
took quite a commission on finding you.

You're just the intersection
between Bancroft's nostalgia

and Clarissa's business sense.

You're an indulgence,
like an overbred pet.

I wasn't any further
than I had been when I walked in the door.

But one thing I knew for sure.

Not one of these people gave a damn
about any life but their own.

For my unique object,
I brought this hand...

which belonged to Konrad Harlan,
Founding Father of Harlan's World.

And he has an important message
for everybody here.

It's brilliant.
Just call more attention to yourself.

Oh, come on, that was funny.

I chose to wear my unique object.

They tell us it's illegal
to download the human mind

into anything but a human body.

But I say fuck that.

Laws don't apply to people like us.

So meet Janus, a rapist and a murderer

who was scheduled for erasure
when I plucked him from the shredder

and I offered him a place by my side.

Hey.

No unauthorized personnel.

Oh. Huh.

It's too bad
he didn't read the fine print.

- Hey, uh, you want a drink?
- Not supposed to drink on duty.

Like these skyshits know
what being on duty is.

- Ooh-rah.
- Ooh-fuckin'-rah. Pass the hooch.

I was curious what would happen to a man
if you downloaded him into a reptile.

The neomammalian complex, stuffed
into the most base of basal ganglia.

For science.

Turns out you go quite mad.

I tried resleeving him once,
and he just lay on the ground and writhed.

So now he's a snake forever.

- Ow. What the fuck?
- Reaper.

You'll only be out for a few minutes.
I need the room to myself.

Okay you probably shouldn't tell anybody
about this, because they'll just fire you.

Oh and ah take some analgesics
and be sure to hydrate when you wake up.

Tonight...

I offer you something more rare
than any of you can possibly imagine.

Something no one owns
in the entire Protectorate...

but me.

Ladies and gentlemen,

I give you the last Envoy.

Takeshi Kovacs.

Now, please...

enjoy the entertainment
we have for you tonight.

Please proceed to the arena.

Combat sleeves
to null-gravity-ready positions.

Yes.

I thought you didn't want to own me.

In this world,

the only real choice is between being
the purchaser and the purchased.

Shh!

Tonight,

combat to sleeve death...

between a married couple
who love each other.

Married fighters?

- Prepare to launch.
- Seems in poor taste.

No one is forcing them.

They could choose not to fight
if they wanted to.

Five, four, three, two, one.

It is a marriage... after all.

Combat sleeves ready.

If you're trying to impress me,
you're failing.

You're far more entertaining
than you know, Mr. Kovacs.

Combat sleeves
must reenter null g-force field.

Take him out, I'll upgrade you both.

Destroy the Envoy!

Make him pay!

Shut it off.

Sorry, ma'am.
Fight sequence is locked.

Move. Move.

Elliot, where the fuck are you?

I'm kinda busy right now.
I'll call you back, okay?

You're not licensed for this.

There's no paperwork on the Envoy.

Oh, dear.
One of those unfortunate accidents.

Legally, of course, he is my property.

Let's raise the stakes, shall we?

Oh, shit.

BCPD, give me that weapon!

Ah!

Gun just went off.

One of those unfortunate accidents.

Show's over, folks.

His sleeve...

it's wrecked!

You fought an Envoy and lived.
Call it good.

But nobody died. We get nothing!

I can't even afford to fix him.

Ah!

They can have my winnings.
Upgraded sleeves for both of 'em.

Or you gonna go back on your word?

By all means. It's only fair.

Let's start by being very clear
with one another, shall we?

Stay away from my wife.

So you're spying on her.

I... I don't need to spy on her.

No, when you've been married
to the same woman for over 100 years,

you know what she does
and you know what she can't help doing.

Why do you care
what your wife does in her spare time,

considering what you're doing in yours?

Your limited life experience
cannot possibly encompass what it is

to love another person for over 100 years.

You achieve something close to veneration.

How does one match such respect
with the basest desires of the flesh?

So you love your wife too much
to fuck her?

I certainly love my wife too much
to let you fuck her.

Now, do you have anything to report
on your investigations tonight?

No. Great party, though.

Thanks.

Where the hell were you?

I had shit of my own to take care of.

Nothing that could possibly be worth
letting me get cut to fucking ribbons.

Surveillance data.
Night Lizzie disappeared.

- You get something?
- Let you know when I scrub through it.

- You get anything?
- Yeah, I got nauseated.

This place, the way they live,
what they do for fun...

Nothing matters to them.
The longer they live, the worse it gets.

They get bored, so...

This is yours.

By the way, who are you?

Supposed to be my backup. And that's mine.

I didn't expect you to be
part of the floor show.

- Vernon Elliot.
- Kristin Ortega.

For just a few hours,
stay out of trouble, okay?

Saving your ass is not my only job.

Whatever you say, Lieutenant.

I like her.

Wait ten minutes.

So, where you going?

I got something to chase down.

Uh, you need, uh... need some backup?

Let me catch up with you later.

Alice...

it's me... Ava.

What happened?

I'm sorry...

They made me do it.

Made you what?

♪ O Death, have mercy ♪

♪ O Death, have mercy ♪

♪ O Death ♪

♪ Just spare me over another year ♪

I told you she'd do it.

♪ O Death, have mercy ♪

♪ O Death, be easy ♪

♪ O Death ♪

♪ Just spare me over another year ♪

♪ What is this that I can't see ♪

♪ With cold, icy hands all over me ♪

♪ Stress my eyes and stretch my limbs ♪

♪ This is the way that death begin ♪

Put him in number five.
How long you think he's gonna take?

Long as we need.

He's waking up. Dose him.

We stick together, Rei.

Never face the monsters alone.

♪ O Death ♪

♪ Just spare me over another year ♪

♪ He'll chop off your limbs ♪

♪ And rip off your skin ♪

♪ And sew your pieces onto him ♪

♪ Stay at home, don't go out alone ♪

♪ Or the Patchwork Man
Will crack your bones ♪

♪ Or the Patchwork Man
Will crack your bones ♪