Original subtitles

What sort of mess

have you gotten yourself into now, Aelita?

You mean, what sort of mess have you got me into?

Who would have ever guessed you'd become the sort of man

who makes such dangerous friends?

I went for six months without shoes once.

Remember?

Amazing how the soles of one's feet

can toughen up or go soft.

Depends on their environment.

Just like the other sort of soul.

Do you remember what happened to them?

My shoes?

You gave them to me.

When I first found you, I made a vow.

That I'd save you if I could.

And you did.

Did I?

What are you up to, Aelita?

Saving a world.

Our world is long past saving.

I thought that was always your point.

I didn't say "our" world.

Goodbye, Wolf.

Aelita?

Aelita?

- Morning, Mama. - Mm.

Brought you some coffee.

Just be careful. It's a little hot.

Ah. Thank you.

There you go. And I made you a sandwich.

I left it in the fridge.

Burton wants one, he can go ahead and make his own.

He ate yours yesterday. And please don't try

to tell me otherwise.

I wasn't hungry.

Can't keep losing weight, Mama.

Go end up in the hospital again.

Burton!

Shit.

Burton! Open up!

Burton.

Do you care to tell me why

Mama's last Tamosene's only ten milligrams?

Jump in real quick. I got to pee.

Uh-uh. Have you been swapping pills with Mama?

Burton.

Have you been swapping pills with Mama?

Jesus Christ, Flynne. You really think I'd do that?

She's got a ten milligram pill.

And just that one, too.

Which means you've likely not only been swapping

but stealing.

- So I need cash. Now. - How much?

- How much you got? - A thousand, if I make it to the next level.

Which you could maybe help with.

That's just one pill.

Which is one day, ain't it?

And I got something big coming tonight.

So we'll have the rest tomorrow.

All right. Orient me.

Squad of Nazis in the house. We're in the barn.

Who's "we"?

Me and Reece and some dude from California.

He hired us to get him past level 20.

Keeps saying "Chill."

Annoying as all hell.

Reece is the one in the beret.

Hurry up!

I'm late enough as it is.

Whoa, now, hold it, hold it!

Jesus, don't y'all even have a shred...

...of decency?

At least let the damn sheep out.

I like your beret, Reece.

Real classy.

Flynne?

Where is Burton?

Powdering his nose.

What are we looking for?

Supposed to be a map.

Did y'all find it?

What are you doing?

Drag that door open, will ya?

I'm back.

Gimme a sec.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Chill, dude.

You want to guess why y'all didn't find that map?

Why?

'Cause it hadn't arrived yet.

You can send the money to my phone.

You're welcome.

Reece!

What the fuck happened?

Flynne happened.

Is it true that Homeland Security

flags every withdrawal?

Well, that would make sense, I suppose.

Seems the only time folks use cash nowadays

is for something funny.

Now, is there a question

hiding in there somewhere, Tommy?

How's your mama doing, Flynne?

She's okay.

Yeah. Thanks for asking.

What you doing here?

Macon and Edward run afoul of the law

- at long last? - Well, not quite yet.

But, uh, give 'em time.

I was just dropping off an order for Dee Dee.

Printing toppers for our, uh, wedding cake.

Well...

I should probably go and help 'em out.

They'll...

definitely mess it up without some adult oversight.

Well, Billy Ann is waiting on you.

With some nubbins.

So you're warned.

Thank you.

See ya, Tommy.

You didn't say anything, did you?

Well, what was I supposed to say?

How 'bout you go,

"Oh, just trying to imagine

what it must be like to be you.

Standing there."

Then you go, "But I can't.

You're too damn handsome.

It's like trying to imagine myself

inside a lion."

Billy, a lion?

Doesn't matter. Just pick an animal.

And then,

all sultry,

"You value your time?"

And he says, "Sure," 'cause what else would he say?

And you go, "Well,

why waste these precious minutes talking..."

Hey, Flynne? I got Tommy's order here.

"...when we could be pressing

- our sweaty..." - Oh, my. - Have you any idea

why they ordered two grooms and only one bride?

"Howdy, Billy Ann. Mind if I have a nubbin?"

Uh, maybe 'cause you misread the form?

Fuck.

All set, then.

"Great to see you, Billy Ann. Thanks for the nubbins."

I have to say it:

your skills and personality

are being sadly wasted in this den of imbecility.

Printer 15 jammed.

Especially when you have

a far more lucrative employment option

at your literal fingertips.

How much does Burton get jockeying for rich folks?

A whole lot more than he deserves.

And you could earn even more.

As long as you use his avatar, that is,

and they don't realize it's a girl doing it.

I'm done with that, Billy Ann. I've already told you that.

Yeah, have indeed. But not the why of it.

Which would seem like the meat

- of that particular sandwich. - It ain't real.

Like it or not, this here's the only world that I got.

Oh.

Well,

on that note...

...before I go make the world a cleaner place,

I have one last thing to say about this.

If somebody had been all puppy-eyed for me

in the lead-up to my marrying Jasper...

...I would've surely wanted to know it.

'Cause like you just said,

life goes by real quick.

So...

why waste a minute being timid?

You know that was a whole lot more

than just one thing, right?

All right. Have a good day, sweet pea.

Maybe do something bold with it and make us all proud, huh?

- Bye, Billy Ann. - Bye.

Hey, ladies.

Fuck.

Oh!

Fuck me.

Mm.

What?

Burton said to fetch this home.

- What is it? - Just the coolest fucking thing

we've ever fabbed.

- Mm-hmm. - And how'd he pay for it?

Didn't. Something called...

"Mi-la-gros Cold iron" did.

Covered our overhead for the month in the process, too.

And what's it supposed to do?

So, it's some sort of remote piloting gizmo.

I mean, our best guess, that is.

Yep. Half the components

don't even have patents yet, far as we can tell.

It's like mercenary shit, my bet.

- Where did this come from? - Mi-la-gros

- Cold iron. - It's a Colombian company.

- We looked 'em up. - Mm-hmm. - What kind?

Kind that's registered in Bogotá.

And that's all they're gonna tell you,

fuck you very much.

Is Burton working for a cartel?

Fuck off.

Now, you two are positive

he ain't paying nothing

- for this? - Mm-mm. Not a dime.

- You have got to scan for it, though. - Mm-hmm.

Wait.

Seriously?

Nothing personal. Customer requested chain of custody.

You want to talk some sense to me about Mama's pills?

Go on.

I can feel you wanting to.

What?

Ask what this is.

How old do you think I was the last time that worked on me?

Handing me a toy to distract me?

Might be surprised. 'Cause when it is working,

you wouldn't necessarily notice.

That's sort of the whole point.

It looks weird.

What are all those silver prongs for?

And there's no screen.

Cutting-edge VR, Flynne.

Folks want me to beta test it.

For a shitload of money, too.

Put us in the clear for months.

- Why you? - Turns out I'm one

of the few jockeys ever to reach the 100th level

- in Halcyon. - Come on.

You never made it past level 83,

- the fire caves. - True enough.

But someone else was using my avatar, apparently.

Playing as Easy Ice.

And she got herself all the way to level 107.

Uh-uh. No, Burton.

I don't have time for this shit.

- I got to put dinner on... - This here's the only way

we're gonna pay for Mama's Tamosene.

Come on. You know I'm proud of you, right?

- How good you are at this? - Oh, shut up.

You are so full of shit.

I can't see how you stand yourself sometimes.

I know.

But it's true.

I am proud of you.

They pay by level?

Time on the clock, straight up.

Longer you're in, the more you earn.

Like I said, working out the kinks.

What do they want?

Killer?

Achiever and explorer.

Your fortes.

Do I get another big-ass beard this time or what?

Far as I can tell,

you're gonna be a version of me.

Okay.

Then I should probably just act a little dimwitted, then.

I just put it on?

Mm-hmm.

Lay back.

Close your eyes.

Stop it.

Count back from ten.

The rest should be self-explanatory,

- more or less. - Okay.

Six. Five.

Four. Three.

Two. One.

Burton, this is not working.

Whoa!

Holy shit!

Well, hello.

Welcome to the Sim, Easy Ice.

Is this like your other sims?

No. No fucking way.

I can feel things.

Everything.

Pain, too.

So you've been warned.

Who are you?

The voice in your head.

I tell you what to do and you do it.

That's how you earn your keep.

Left.

Your destination.

I think I know what that is.

No, you know what it used to be.

Halfway around the circle.

Keep going.

Around the corner.

And pull up at the door on the left.

You're on foot from here.

I need a weapon?

Just the rapier of your wit,

should you possess such a thing.

Let's look lively now.

Someone's waiting.

Say "I've arrived."

I've arrived.

You don't appear to be in our database.

Your name is?

Easy Ice.

And do you prefer "Easy"?

Or "Mr. Ice"?

"Mr. Ice" has a pretty good ring to it.

Registered, Mr. Ice.

Enjoy the party, Mr. Ice.

Where is everybody?

In the garden, dear.

What is this?

A company party.

Somebody made a sim about a company party

at Buckingham Palace?

There's the wit I was hoping for.

What's the company?

A little venture called the R.I.

Which stands for...?

Research Institute.

Or Rebirth and Innovation.

Or Radically Immoral.

Depending upon whom you ask.

This is their annual self-congratulatory

pat on the shoulder.

A high point of the social calendar,

I assure you. Not to be missed.

Head inside, please.

Enjoying yourself, Mr. Ice?

Now, shall we play a little game?

Mirror, mirror on the wall.

Who's the prettiest of 'em all?

Oh, dear. No, no, no, no, no.

That's the queen bee of this entire vile hive.

You don't want to feel her sting, trust me.

That's better.

Warmer. Warmer.

Warmer still.

Your crown of laurels.

Now approach her, please.

I need you to convince this young woman to take you home.

Don't tell me you're shy.

Make this happen now or you won't be paid.

It's flattering at first, you know.

But if you stare too long,

it starts to feel a tad dodgy.

And...

you are about to cross that line.

I was just trying to imagine what it must be like.

To be you.

Sitting here like this.

And?

I can't.

You're just too beautiful.

It's like trying to imagine myself inside a...

swan.

Come.

Sit.

Be a king to my queen.

I'm Mariel. And you are?

Do you value your time, Mariel?

Well, as much as anyone. Why?

I could introduce myself

and then spend the next hour leaning close,

complimenting you.

And then, maybe,

if the signs seemed right,

I could ask you to take me home.

Or?

I could ask you now.

Your new friend has rather affected tastes.

Her car requires a driver.

Should you try to harm Mariel,

this creature is programmed to kill you, all right?

In your pocket, you'll find a glass ampoule.

You're gonna snap this open,

hold it under Mariel's pretty nose,

and while you do this, I'd suggest you attend

rather closely to your surroundings.

Chop, chop. Let's keep this moving.

Look at her.

I speak,

and I'm like a thought for you, aren't I?

Left.

Such power.

I didn't realize I'd enjoy it

quite so much.

Planting words in your head,

like so many seeds in fertile soil.

Left.

When there were need of the creation of the sun,

the Moon, the planets, and the Earth,

there was only darkness,

and everything was created from the darkness.

On your right, pull in.

So...

Show us what you've learned.

I've arrived.

Who's this?

Your master, little puppet.

The one who pulls your strings.

What?

You're my first polt. I'm not gonna lie, it's...

bit of an odd feeling.

What's a polt?

You see, I know that you're real,

and yet...

Still, it's just all a bit hard to fathom.

If I assured you that you'd likely no longer exist

in, like, another decade,

what would that mean to you?

No, it's true. Ten years.

Would that carry any weight?

Would you wake from here and change your life?

You were easier to follow

when you were just a voice inside my head.

Mm.

Now what?

Something rather eye-opening, I assure you.

Let's resume this tomorrow, shall we?

Well, you gonna say something, or just lie there?

Holy shit.

Holy shit. It was

like being there.

Like I was actually in your body.

Felt like an upgrade, I bet.

No, it felt fucking weird is what it felt like.

What's the sim about?

A kidnapping.

But, I mean, that's definitely just the start.

Well, you must've done something right

because they want you back tomorrow,

- and they just bumped up the money. - No shit.

Look, I don't want to be an asshole about this, Flynne,

but we're talking a lot of fucking cash here.

Like, enough to set us right for months.

I hear you.

And?

There's no need to argue.

- It's that good, huh? - Hell, if you had any idea,

you'd for sure want to take over yourself.

Wh-Wh-Whoa. Hold up.

- You good? - Yeah.

Is that thing safe?

Bit late to ask now,

don't you think?

How's it work?

I don't know. Some sort of neural cutout, I guess.

Like my haptics.

Ah, fuck. Well, that ended up pretty well, huh?

Just wait here till it passes. You'll be fine.

I'll ride over to Jimmy's

and pick up the rest of Mama's Tamosene.

Nah, I got it, Burton.

I could use some fresh air.

Sorry, Conner.

I've been told to cut you off.

I need Tamosene.

Think you might need a little bit of help with your math

here, Flynne.

I just want the one pill.

I'll come back here tomorrow and pick up the rest.

You know that's not how this works.

Y'all shut the fuck up.

Now, unless you want to,

uh...

I don't know, figure out

some sort of barter deal?

You know, render us both a service?

Atticus,

give me the goddamn pill.

Maybe you should try your luck at Pharma Jon.

See if they're a little more...

...amenable.

Gentlemen.

How about you just give

the young lady what she asking for?

I would've guessed

a one-armed dude would know when it's time

to mind his own business.

Want to know the best part

about being a one-armed dude, Cash?

No more clapping?

You ain't got

a lot left to lose, bruh.

Walk away.

Why? Are you worried about your boyfriend?

I'm worried about you.

You see, in a situation like this?

Now, let's say I decide to reach for that

bull pup there.

Now, what's the worst thing that can happen to me?

As far as I can figure,

the worst thing,

and I mean the very fucking worst...

...is that I only manage to kill two of you,

rather than all three.

They should've finished the job, Conner.

Killed you outright.

Done us all a service.

Yeah. Trust me, Cash.

I had the same thought, many a morning.

Gonna rob a bank tomorrow?

Nah, Burton has something he scrounged up.

Knowing him as I do, that sounds a tad worrisome.

Mm-hmm.

How's he holding up?

You should come by sometime.

See for yourself. He might even

be moved enough to offer you a beer.

Just the one?

Well, I guess it depends on how generous

he's feeling.

How's the charge on that?

Low.

Burton never pedals like he ought to.

Those words could end up on his gravestone one day,

don't you think?

Definitely, yeah.

Want some help with it?

See you around, Conner.

I think a quick performance review

might be in order,

don't you?

Some constructive criticism?

I-I could understand how you might be

unhappy with us, Mr. Pickett.

Gonna hit the john real quick.

Sit down, Jasper.

I'm not unhappy.

Just confused.

If you'd decided to sell that young woman one pill,

I might be inclined to trust you made a judgment call.

I might even respect it.

Betraying, as it would,

an unexpected level of improvisational thinking.

But...

...it's the bullying that gives me pause.

Bullying?

Well, what would you call it?

The way that drunk cripple manhandled you out there?

Drink up, son.

I need you calm,

so you can absorb this lesson.

When you look weak,

I look weak.

Understand?

Good boy.

Take him to the restroom, Jasper.

Get him cleaned up.

Something wrong, hon?

No, ma'am. Just the sorry state of your hair.

But don't worry, I'll ask Billy Ann to come over

and give this briar patch a little trim.

That'd be nice.

She tells me all the news you're too proper to share.

Are you trying to call Billy Ann a gossip?

I'm saying she knows how to entertain

an old shut-in like me.

Is her Jasper still mixed up with his Uncle Corbell?

Mama, please tell me

that you do not ask her that.

If I was her best friend, I might.

So, how's the pain been?

Oh... you know.

I don't.

That's precisely why I'm asking.

Well, Burton's been giving me his extra pills.

That's helped some.

What do you mean?

Well, he says he doesn't need them so much anymore.

They help tide me through the rough patches.

How are those haptics treating you?

Been worse.

I saw you last night.

Through the window.

Appreciate the beers.

Could've been colder, though.

Beggars and choosers, Burton.

I'm sorry I said all that evil stuff

about you taking Mama's pills.

Hey, you know if you ever want to talk,

I'm all ears.

About what?

You know, the pain.

What's going on, Flynne?

What do you mean?

You're acting fucking weird.

Yeah? Well, just give me that. Stop piddlin' with it.

I promise not to tell anyone, but you almost look happy there.

Makes me want to take a photo.

Record the event for posterity's sake.

Fuck off.

Just don't let Milagros Cold iron catch you smiling like that.

They might start charging us, rather than paying.

They got a good thing going here, Burton. I'm telling you.

It's gonna be huge.

Well, enjoy it while you can.

I intend to.

Don't you worry about that.

Six. Five.

Four. Three.

Two. One.

I assume you're wondering why you can't move.

And that's a very good question.

Which leads to another question, I know.

Why would I do such a thing?

Do you know

what "enucleation" means?

Hmm?

Now, I imagine that you've begun

to shout in your head, haven't you?

"End game! Disconnect!"

Alas, you can't do that here, 'cause

I initiated the connection, and only I can end it, so...

Oh, look.

That's Mariel's beautiful blue orb.

Soon to be yours.

Okay,

I suppose that this

may all seem a little bit sadistic.

Me not putting you under and all that, but

I assure you, it's for a very noble cause,

all right? Look,

I may need you

to endure terrible pain in the coming hours,

okay? So try

and see this as a sort of little test.

I mean, you're not actually in this body, are you?

Can you hear your heart?

It's like a frightened horse,

trapped in a burning barn.

But none of this is real, is it?

I need you to discipline your mind.

Convince it that this is

all imaginary.

Your heart.

Show me that you can rein it in.

Well done.

Very well done.

I think you've earned yourself a little shut-eye,

so to speak, don't you?

Back, are we?

And look how pretty you are.

Ah-ah, ah-ah. Best not.

Doctor's orders.

What are we doing?

You're going to be a love,

and open some doors for me.

Press your eye to it, or rather dear Mariel's.

What is this place?

"Infinity in the palm of your hand.

Eternity in an hour."

It's a great gift I'm giving you.

I hope you're worthy of it.

Are you ready?

For what?

To lay claim to your destiny.

Your eye.

The other one.

Master it.

Ooh.

Stop him.

Now. He's here to kill us.

Aelita West.

Grains and Legumes.

Have you encountered one of these before?

It's a clever little device.

Delivers a sonic punch.

Right down into the organs.

Now, I've never felt it myself,

but what I've observed, it's rather effective.

Who else is involved?

Fuck you.

Is this the liver over here?

Or is it the spleen?

I really should brush up on my anatomy.

But I know where the brain is.

And guess what happens then?

Names, Ms. West.

Who else is helping you?

Help? I fucking wish.

Run!

Easy Ice, eh?

Brilliant.

What's your real name, lad?

Once we cut this bloody thing's head off,

we can easily trace your connection.

So why draw it out?

Who are you?

Where are you?

What happened?

- Never again. - What...

Never fucking again.

Flynne!

Flynne Harlene Fisher.

I've been waiting out

in Jasper's truck, thinking you were tied up

tending to your mama.

Finally, I decided I ought to come in

and lend a hand,

being such a conscientious friend and all,

and look what I find.

- Shake a leg, princess. - Mm-mm.

- I'm calling in sick. - What's wrong?

- Everything. - Know what déjà vu means

if you translate it, like, literally?

"Already seen."

As in, we both already seen how this sort of funk

plays out 'cause we been here before.

This exact same moment, so come on,

get some clothes on.

You didn't.

Billy Ann, drop it.

Billy Ann, give it back.

- You dirty, dirty girl. - Give it back.

Billy Ann, give me the figurine.

Stop.

Think I might've missed an episode or two here.

- Mind catching me up? - Just go.

All right? Jasper's waiting on you.

And he'll keep at it, too.

Which is one of his finer qualities, if I'm being honest.

What? Is this about Tommy?

- That's just so stupid. - What's so stupid about it?

It's a seventh-grade crush I didn't have any good sense

to give up on. That's what.

- Act on, you mean. - Come on, Billy Ann.

It ain't gonna happen.

You know that.

You know, I've been playing this sim,

filling in for Burton. Mean, it's

new tech, best I've ever seen.

It's like you're... actually there.

You can feel your whole body,

- like it's real or something. - Hmm.

Then, you know, just 'cause people want to go

and make things nasty,

it turned.

They cut my eye out.

- Mm-mm. - Beat me to death,

for no reason at all.

It was just meanness,

plain and simple.

I'm sorry, sweet pea.

Yeah, but you know, the thing that I keep thinking on...

The palm of my hand got ripped off, right?

Oh, Jesus.

Yeah, but underneath it, it was...

...it was a machine.

Why would they design it like that?

- Why not? - 'Cause it seems to me like

the whole thing they're gonna be selling this sim on,

what's most important about it, is that everything feels real.

So why go and put machine underneath it?

Why not just use an actual human hand?

I don't think I'm following.

I'm just being stupid.

I know that look you get, Flynne.

Might mean a lot of different things,

but stupid ain't one.

Fuck it. Then here it is.

I can't help but think that I was...

actually there.

In a real body, somewhere that's... real.

Not just in an another sim.

Ms. Fisher,

I need you to listen very closely.

You're in grave danger.

Everything you believe about your experience

with the headset is wrong.

Everything. The situation is far more complex

and far more perilous than you can possibly imagine.

It's crucial that you log back into the sim. Immediately.

- How'd you get this number? - Ms. Fisher?

I asked you a question.

Finding your number has honestly been

the least challenging of my tasks.

- Well, don't call it again. - Your life is at risk.

Fuck.

...Atlanta couple had

two servings of bad luck yesterday,

when a bee flew in

their car window. The driver...

...in a panic, sending the car swerving

into a tree...

...the driver was unconscious...

so police were called to the scene.

- Step into the road, please. - Why?

I'm gonna shoot you if you don't.

What?

It's of critical importance

that you sign back into the sim, Ms. Fisher.

Immediately.

You are in grave danger.

An ad has been posted

on the dark net offering a $9 million bounty

for a contract killing. There's reason to...

There's reason to believe that you and your family

are the intended target.

The offer has been accepted...

- The offer has been... - The offer has been accepted by a party...

The offer has been accepted by a party out of Memphis.

I cannot assist you in this emergency

unless you sign back in.

I repeat. I cannot

assist you in this emergency unless

you sign back in.

Thing is,

one of these nights, Conner's gonna roll out of Jimmy's

shit-faced again, and...

he ain't gonna make it home.

And that's on all of us.

Even if it's the one thing

we've all somehow agreed never to fucking talk about.

How we had intel on that situation.

The one that got him all blown up.

We all let him choose not to pay it any mind.

Yeah, well...

...it felt a little more complicated

than that, at the time.

Burton!

Hey, Flynne.

What's going on?

The mighty Flynne.

Someone from that company's

trying to contact me.

What company?

Milagros whatever, the Colombian one.

He said someone put a hit on us

for $9 million on the dark net.

Fuck off. Y'all can laugh,

but he went a fair ways if he was just trying to freak me out.

- Did he say why? - No, he didn't say why. He said

I just need to sign in again, so he can help us.

He's just trying to get you back in the harness.

I'll call him tomorrow, tell him to fuck off.

Why not tonight?

'Cause I've got company, Flynne.

And he's maybe a little too drunk to find his phone.

Hey, grab that 12-pack from the fridge, would you?

You're too drunk to fetch it,

you're too drunk to drink it.

What's she talking about?

Sim developer. Hired me to do a job.

Hired your avatar, that is. Meaning Flynne.

Whatever's on your mind,

might as well go ahead and say it.

Conner.

What about him?

What we were just talking about.

His current state.

How we all had warning

and chose not to believe it.

Like...

a $9 million bounty.

Are you serious?

Still got those drones in your car?

Tommy Constantine was asking after you the other day.

Funny thing about losing your sight?

People get frozen in your mind.

I know I've seen Tommy

all grown up.

And I ought to be able to picture him that way,

but you say his name,

and I just see a scrawny little boy.

Him and Burton and the others

on their bikes, racing down that hill out front.

That was a long time ago, Mama.

What are they up to out there?

Playing with their stupid drones.

None of them managed to grow up, far as I can tell.

Not many do, in my experience.

- Sleeping pill? - Yes, please.

Ah.

- All right, Mama. - Mm.

- Night night. - Night. Love you.

Love you.

There something I ought to know about?

Just an excess of caution.

Here.

You got anything?

No, not yet.

We were wondering, Flynne,

you sure they didn't mean nine dollars?

Whoa.

You fucking with us?

Looks like somebody's come hunting

for that nine dollars.

What happens when more people come?

Hunting us down?

I could really use some intel

right about now.

You're inside what we call a Peripheral.

Telepresent.

Piloting that body as if it were your own.

I just don't believe you.

A lot can happen

in 70 years, Ms. Fisher.

A lot did happen.

Those men who came to kill you?

They won't be the last.

Eliminate Flynne and Burton Fisher.