Original subtitles

In 1953, Earth experienced a war of the worlds.

Common bacteria stopped the aliens but it didn't kill them.

Instead, the aliens lapsed into a state of deep hibernation.

Now the aliens have been resurrected,

more terrifying than before.

In 1953, aliens started taking over the world.

Today, they're taking over our bodies.

We all have to die, sometime.

Man, this cold is a killer.

I thought I was gonna die when the coach had us run

two extra laps.

Go home and go to bed.

Is that an invitation?

You wish.

You kids decided yet?

Uh, yeah, cheeseburgers all around, I guess.

Make mine the diet plate.

How about some, uh, chicken soup

for that cold?

Yeah, sure. Why not?

With all the germs you're spreading,

you should probably all have some.

All right.

Three cheeseburgers, one diet plate.

Follow them and observe their behavior.

Got some sorry cases here, Doctor.

Poisoning, I think.

Got two more outside, but it's too late for them.

God! Make it go away!

What hurts son?

Everything!

It feels like being eaten from the inside!

You've got to give me something!

We lost this one.

Please! You've got to give me something!

I can't...

Okay, no heart!

Get those pectors on.

CPR! Here we go.

Let's go, nurse. Let's go. Let's hurry up.

Come on, dammit.

Come on!

No, he's gone.

We've field tested the poisonous spore extensively, Advocate.

The results have been most encouraging.

So, the pressure on our scientists

to develop a toxic weapon has finally proved effective.

It has.

Taken internally by the earthlings,

the spore's lethal properties are catastrophic.

Properly used, the spore will completely eliminate

all putrid, bacteria-ridden

human life on this planet.

And the method

for introducing this poison

into our enemy society?

I have several teams searching for the most

expedient means to achieve this.

Excellent, Commander.

And how do you explain the presence of this

rancid creature?

A small reward for our scientists.

For months they've been

requesting a live human specimen for dissection.

I think this one will do nicely.

As CEO of one of the largest multinational corporations,

I feel it's our moral obligation

to be one of the most responsible.

Feeding the world's hungry is Mason International's way

of meeting that obligation.

For more than a decade, and I might add,

at a cost exceeding $1.3 billion,

Mason's genetic engineering division has been seeking

a food substance that will effectively end world hunger.

Today, I'm proud to announce

that we have succeeded.

Some have said that ending world hunger is the first step

toward establishing world peace.

Well, I'll let history decide that.

What I do know

is that I am very pleased

that within a matter of days

there will no longer be any excuse for any child

anywhere in the world

to go without proper nourishment.

I'd also like to take this moment to publicly

thank my wife, Joyce,

for her supreme patience

and divine inspiration.

Joyce, please.

We'll have a special dinner tonight.

The press loves you, Marcus.

Love I don't need, Franklin.

What I do need is public pressure on the government

so we can get this product out of research

and into the marketplace.

We've dropped another three-eighths of a point today.

Five-eighths at closing.

Unusually heavy trading.

Make it happen, people!

Make sure I get the final costs from estimating tomorrow, a.m.

Did you really mean what you just said to Franklin out there?

Huh?

About not needing love.

I've got to keep the troops motivated, don't I?

I think you motivate rather well, Mr. Mason.

Be sure and call Joyce and tell her I'll be

missing dinner tonight.

Anything special in mind?

Work.

Oh.

Teri.

I know. It can't be helped, just like it can't be helped

that you're going home to Joyce, either.

There's something else.

It's been almost a year.

Marcus...

you can make me so happy.

Hello?

In here.

You're late.

But not too late.

So who do you like in the fifth, Harrison?

I'm staying away from that race, Norton.

But, uh, "Relentless" in the sixth,

that's an excellent wager.

15 to one.

You never cease to amaze me, Doctor.

I just never figured you as a guy who plays the ponies.

It's only on paper, Colonel.

I like probabilities.

I just don't believe in betting.

So far the man is 10,000 ahead.

On paper? I don't believe it.

Me neither.

He's usually much better than that.

Oh, I give up! So do I!

Developing a radiation resistant strain of bacteria

that can be used against the aliens

and still be completely harmless to every other

living thing on this planet is impossible.

Meaning you're not making any progress?

Meaning, the harder I try, the further away I get.

I just, I can't do it.

Look, Suzanne,

if you'd like for me to talk to General Wilson

about some additional equipment...

What I really need is another few decades of experience

in genetic engineering.

Even Uncle Hank can't give me that.

Don't be so hard on yourself.

It says here it took Mason International

15 years and over $1 billion

to develop this new

radiation-resistant grain they've just announced.

Colonel!

You forget something?

Maybe there is something

you can get from General Wilson.

A meeting

with Marcus Madison Mason.

I've tried everything else.

Consider it done.

I appreciate your taking the time to see me,

especially on such short notice.

Even I can't ignore a call

from Washington, Doctor.

Besides, I've learned to make time

for the scientific community.

They've made me a wealthy man.

From improving our oil shale extraction methods

right up to our "Feed the World" grain.

And that is exactly

what I would like to know more about.

You and everyone else it seems.

You say you're a microbiologist?

Mm-hmm. I am.

I'm something of a biochemist myself.

Not formally, mind you, but self-taught.

I find it a fascinating field.

But, we're not here to discuss me.

Briefly, our "Feed the World" grain is, uh, a miracle food.

It's fast-growing, rapidly regenerating,

and immune to virtually any climate

or degree of moisture regardless of how harsh.

But best of all,

it's radiation resistant.

That way when the crazies who run this world

start lobbing nuclear missiles,

those who survive will still have

an ample food source.

That sounds somewhat cynical

coming from a man who's accomplished what you have.

I'm a realist, Doctor... not a Pollyanna.

Well, it is the resistance to radiation

that I am most interested in.

I must take the credit for that one.

Not even my top scientists know the secret.

I'm hoping your methods might have bacteriological application

to some of the research that I've been engaged in.

I see.

Yes?

Teri, could you step in here for a moment, please?

I've always found that certain things

are best discussed over a meal.

Yes, Mr. Mason?

Teri, would you please call Joyce and tell her

not to wait dinner for me this evening?

I'll be delayed.

Certainly, sir.

We grow impatient, Commander.

The toxic spore is worthless

if you can't find a means of feeding it

to the humans of this planet.

It appears the means is at hand, Advocate.

I expect

positive results in short order.

I'm afraid you'll have to go

on your little shopping spree without me.

Oh, Marcus, you promised.

Can't be helped.

It's business.

Help you, ladies?

Isn't that Marcus Madison Mason?

Maybe.

Oh, that's him, all right,

but I don't think that's his wife.

Look, ladies,

Mr. Mason doesn't like to be interrupted

while he's having lunch.

Oh, we don't want to interrupt him.

We only want to thank him

for all the wonderful things he's done.

I'll make sure he gets the message.

It's only a matter of time.

Oh, my dear.

I can't imagine wearing something that daring.

Ah, but we must dress for our men.

Well, that certainly would get a man's attention.

A policeman,

more than likely.

All right, what have we got?

Hewlitt.

Well, the FDA is about ready to sign off on us,

but I think I might get somebody to give them a little push.

How little?

$100,000 in the right hands should do it.

See that it does. Larson.

We have inquiries

from just about every country in the world.

The three big questions:

Can we deliver what we're promising,

and when and for how much?

Yes...

soon...

and a lot.

Some of the poorer nations may have a tough time

meeting our prices, Marcus,

especially the hard cash requirement.

Do we deal?

No.

Remind them that's why foreign aid was invented.

Countries that have

get to pay for those that don't.

But aren't we being a little harsh?

Gentlemen, Mason International

is in the business of making money.

We do that with petroleum.

We do it with electronics.

And now we are going to do it

with our "Feed the World" grain.

We are not trying to win the Mother Theresa Award.

But public opinion?

Public opinion be damned.

If this company can end world hunger, regardless of price,

public opinion will take care of itself.

Anything else?

Hi, Mrs. Pennyworth.

Oh, hello, dear.

What's that you've got there?

Caesar.

Your mother's laboratory animal?

Mom doesn't experiment on them.

She just keeps them for appearances, that's all.

Besides, Caesar looked lonely.

I thought I'd take him for a walk.

One doesn't walk laboratory mice.

Really?

How come?

Eh, just see that he gets back in his cage when you're done.

Come on, Caesar.

Yuck.

Mason wouldn't tell her anything specific, huh?

Well, nothing she couldn't get from a press release,

but then he didn't refuse to cooperate with her either.

And that's supposed to explain

their about-to-be dinner tonight.

What do you mean, "supposed to explain"?

Come on, Doctor.

You've seen Mason's picture.

He's not a bad-looking guy.

And I know

that you know that Suzanne is not a bad...

Colonel!

Is not a bad-looking woman.

What are you looking at me like that for?

Mason's the one that asked her out

to dinner, I didn't.

Offhand, you know, I think there's a good chance

that we may be losing our lady doctor

to big business, that's all.

Now, why would you say that?

I can think of five...

Maybe six billion reasons why.

Face it, Doctor.

The rich really are different.

You already seem to have all the answers, Colonel.

I, I wouldn't know anything about that.

Come on, Harrison.

You can admit it to me.

Aren't you just

the least bit jealous that she's about

to have dinner with maybe the richest man

in the whole world?

Colonel, Suzanne and I are business associates.

We're not lovers.

That doesn't even begin to answer the question.

Well?

How do I look?

Don't ask me.

Ask your business associate.

Where is everybody?

I took the liberty of reserving the restaurant

so we wouldn't be disturbed.

Is the wine all right?

Perfectly.

Mr. Mason...

Marcus, please.

Marcus.

I'm sure you're aware that

the radiation resistant properties

that your company has developed

have far-reaching applications in other fields.

I certainly hope so.

Mason International has quite a chunk of money

tied up in the process.

Well, I was hoping that your company's success

might give me a clue as to solving

some problems that I've been having in my own research.

Exactly what kind of research are you involved in?

Well... I wish I could discuss that with you,

but I'm afraid it's something of a secret.

Aha.

A woman of mystery.

I'm intrigued.

I would tell you if I could.

And I would tell you.

But you must understand that Mason International

has its secrets as well.

I promise you, commercial profit has absolutely nothing

to do with this.

It's strictly for humanitarian reasons.

And I am

a great believer in humanitarian needs, Suzanne.

My "Feed the World" grain should be adequate proof of that.

But I'm an even greater believer

in the free enterprise system.

I have something everyone wants.

I can charge any price I choose.

Try the pâté.

I think you'll enjoy it.

If you're not prepared to help me, Marcus,

I see no reason to belabor the issue.

Brandy?

No, thank you.

I'm surprised.

You don't strike me as a woman who gives up easily.

I stated my case, and you have declined.

I think my time would be best spent

trying to solve the problem on my own.

But you still won't tell me what it is you're doing or why.

I'm sorry... I can't.

It's very sensitive.

I know.

I beg your pardon.

You know what?

All about you.

You don't think I would have agreed to meet

in the first place

without a complete background check, do you?

Dr. Suzanne McCullough,

maiden name Baxter.

Education... marital status.

Currently working

for the federal government.

You're very thorough.

Oh, I am, Dr. McCullough.

More than you could

possibly know.

And here's where we get to the most curious part.

It seems that no one in Washington

is willing to discuss you,

which makes me even more cautious than I am normally.

Now, since the government seems to very badly

want something from me, the question is...

What is the government prepared to give me in return?

Hmm?

I'm prepared

to negotiate, Suzanne.

No.

Not this way.

Why not think of it as an exercise

in supply-side economics?

We each have something

the other wants.

What are you doing here so late?

I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Mason.

I forgot some papers I meant to take home with me.

I really didn't expect anyone

would still be here.

I think this is a good time to say good night.

Are you sure?

Mm-hmm. I had a very lovely evening.

Thank you.

The pleasure was mine.

Marcus,

you really are not

a very nice person.

Nice is for the second string.

That's what I am to you, isn't it?

The second string?

Hello.

Hello, Marcus.

I was hoping you'd call.

Well, of course, darling, I'll wait up for you.

Well, what's with King Mason today?

Beats me.

Any idea who that was with him?

I've decided to bring in

some outside advisors.

Mr. Cook, Mr. Stein,

and Miss Marshall.

I know you will give them

your complete cooperation.

Mr. Mason?

Yes, Larson?

Excuse me, but what exactly

are these advisors going to do?

Why, they'll be seeing

to the final preparations, Larson,

so that we can properly saturate this planet

with our "Feed the World" grain.

What is that?

What are you doing?

Seeing to the final preparations.

What are they doing, Franklin?

I'm in sales, Adams, not research.

But I've worked for years to perfect this grain.

How can you let someone come in at the 11th hour

and tamper with the finished product?

At the very least, we'll lose our FDA certification!

Like I told you, Doctor,

Mr. Mason said to let them do

whatever it is they needed to do.

Ours is but to do or die.

You people have lost your minds!

Our infiltration of Mason International is complete.

And the toxic spore?

The spore is securely

in place.

The final stages of distribution are being arranged.

Those humans the spore doesn't kill

will be too few and too weak to defy us.

Well done, Commander.

We will convey the glorious message to Council.

With due credit to you for your efforts.

Thank you, Advocate.

But victory over these pathetic, disease-ridden creatures

is reward enough.

Morning, Norton.

Morning.

"Def Leppard?"

Come again?

You know, "Def Leppard", the group, rock and roll music.

I know music,

but I can't make head or tails of this thing.

Gertrude, number two.

Oh, you're beautiful. Yes, you are.

Hi, Caesar. Did you miss me?

As soon as Mom wakes up, I'm going to talk her

into letting you spend the night in my room.

Good luck.

Sometimes, I almost think

Gertrude is alive.

So do I.

Especially when she zigs when she's supposed to zag.

Gertrude, turn around.

It won't work.

Gertrude and I are monogamous.

Um... that means we stick together.

Norton, do you ever...

do you ever miss not being able to walk?

Well, it's hard to miss something you've never had.

You know, Debi, when I was your age,

I used to dream about walking all the time.

Really? Yeah.

But, the funniest thing,

I kept tripping over everything.

Does it bother you that I asked?

Uh-uh.

I think it would bother me more if you didn't.

Here, have a little juice.

Would you just relax?

I am relaxed.

I'm starved.

Mm.

Well?

Oh, you want to know about last night?

That is the main topic of conversation, isn't it?

Well, first we...

Marcus and I...

Marcus?

We had a lovely dinner.

And can you believe he reserved the entire restaurant,

so we wouldn't be disturbed?

You're kidding. She's not kidding.

I'm not kidding.

And the pâté, was to die.

After about seven courses and two bottles of wine,

he invited me up to his office.

Mason agreed to share his research with you?

No. As a matter of fact, he made it very clear

he wanted to share his bed with me.

You're kidding.

She's not kidding.

You're not kidding.

He's very romantic,

shrewd, terribly wealthy.

Terribly.

And about as subtle as an adolescent

on his first date... And I'm pretty sure

he's having an affair with his secretary.

Look, uh, your personal life, uh, his personal life,

it's your own business.

Right.

And I don't need to know the details.

But, uh, did he or did he not agree to tell you how he managed

to get his radiation-resistant genetic engineering to work?

Not.

Mason is as secretive about what he's doing

as we are about what we're doing.

And even if I had...

fulfilled his fantasies,

I don't think he would have given us what we need.

So this entire exercise was a wash?

Except for the pâté.

I did manage to get an offer of a tour out of him, however.

But I think, we should fold our tents.

Mmm, I think we should rethink our approach.

Good morning.

Good morning, Doctor.

Is there something I can do for you?

Well, Mr. Mason offered me the opportunity

to tour the research facility.

Well, I'm sorry, Mr. Mason didn't mention anything

about that to me.

Hello, Dr. McCullough.

Won't you please step into my office?

Teri, call my wife and tell her

to expect me for dinner.

Thank you.

There she is.

Everything okay?

Yes, except for my ego.

Mr. Mason...

Mister?

Well, he treated me as if we'd never met.

Somewhere along the line, I must have lost my appeal.

It wasn't a complete loss, though.

When no one was looking,

I managed to help myself to some of this.

You haven't lost your appeal at all.

Oh, isn't it cute, Mom?

Oh, yeah.

Honey, we have a lot of work to do today.

Please put Caesar back in his cage

and try to find someplace else to play.

Mom, I've been thinking.

If you let me keep Caesar in my room,

I won't have to spend so much time down here.

Norton, I'm going to need a little programming

before I can start the tests.

My pleasure, madam.

Maybe.

Maybe yes

or maybe no?

Maybe, as in I'll think about it.

Debi!

Sweetheart, you're going to have to be

a little more careful.

I'm sorry, Mom.

Really, I didn't mean it.

Go.

Out, and take Caesar with you.

Thanks, Mom. You're the neatest.

But if we do what you say,

it'll be a detriment to every other division of the company.

We still haven't fully executed contracts with our buyers.

Even the payment schedules haven't been hammered out.

Aren't you rushing into this

a little too impulsively, Mr. Mason?

The government has granted us a conditional export license,

and I intend to exploit it immediately.

If that's too impulsive for you,

perhaps I'm employing the wrong men for the job.

It'll, uh, still take a few days to arrange shipping, Marcus.

A few... no more.

We have an obligation to feed the world,

and we must begin by week's end.

What you are seeing is Mason International's

ultimate contribution to mankind:

the delivery of a food source

capable of feeding the entire world.

There is no reason for any man, woman, or child

to ever again go hungry.

I have decided that this grain will be available

to any country, to any person who needs it, and at no cost.

For me to do otherwise would be inhuman.

I suppose it's too early

to expect a progress report.

Mm.

It is, but, at least now

I have something specific to focus on.

Suzanne?

Hmm?

I'd, uh, like to apologize.

For what?

Mom! Oh, for acting a little strange

about you and Mason and the dinner and...

Mom! you know, things.

Mom!

It's been, uh...

Mom! Out here, honey!

Look, Mom, he's dead!

He's dead!

Is it real?

Very.

What have we got?

Alien transmissions.

Does Suzanne know? Not yet.

She's got her sign out.

Okay, folks, here's what we got.

One ultrahigh frequency burst directed toward space

and a pair of chit-chat bursts between two ground stations.

Now, maybe I can

triangulate one of the broadcast points,

but it's going to take some time.

We have another problem.

Mason's grain is tainted.

I've never seen anything like it.

Why is that a problem?

Because eating some of the grain is what killed Caesar.

The grain is poison,

deadly poison.

Suzanne.

The news just announced

that Mason is gonna give that grain away

to anybody who wants it.

Mr. Mason's office.

Is he in, please? This is Dr. Suzanne McCullough.

This is his executive assistant. Is there something

I could do for you?

I must speak with Mr. Mason.

I'm afraid Mr. Mason's out of the office at the moment.

I'm sure if you leave your number

he'll call you back when it's convenient.

You don't understand.

It's urgent that I speak to him immediately.

Doctor, Mr. Mason is a very

busy man.

There's something wrong with the grain.

Terribly wrong.

You can't release it.

Mr. Mason.

Excuse me.

Yes, Teri.

What is it?

Can I speak with you, privately?

Why, Teri? We have no

secrets here.

Mr. Mason...

Marcus...

you can't let the ship leave.

There's something wrong with the grain,

something our people missed.

It's got some kind of a parasite or something.

Anyone who eats it will die.

Teri, we all have to die.. sometime.

Why doesn't anyone call me back?

Colonel,

would a call to General Wilson be in order?

I'd like to, Doctor, but this thing,

it really doesn't have anything to do with the aliens.

It's way outside of our charter.

Since when is saving innocent lives

outside of anyone's charter?

Look, I don't enjoy this

any more than you do, but we can't

do anything that might

expose our real purpose here.

Or have you forgotten what that is?

Pull up, Gertrude.

I've got the location

of one of the broadcast points triangulated.

At last, something we're allowed to work on.

Something going on here I should know about?

No, no, please; just, just show me.

Look, it's not a mailing address or anything,

but one of the alien transmissions

definitely originated from the neighborhood of the Oakland docks.

Oakland?

Harrison, Oakland is the major distribution center

for Mason International.

Well, I think we're getting a whole lot closer

to our charter, Colonel.

Code 47.

Level three.

Authorization ten.

Lieutenant Colonel Ironhorse for General Wilson.

We've been waiting over an hour.

When will your longshoremen resume loading?

I told you, Mr. Mason,

just as soon as the guys from the Department of Agriculture

get here to bless the deal.

Maybe this is them now.

Well, Colonel, what now?

We stall until the general sends reinforcements, Doctor.

After you, Colonel.

Okay, everything looks fine above deck here.

Want to check the top deck?

Right. Uh-huh.

What about this? Okay.

Yeah, it's fine by me.

Paperwork appears to be in order.

So can my guys

start unloading, or what?

We haven't inspected the cargo yet.

Hey.

Lighten up, okay?

My guys get paid

whether they're working or drinking coffee.

Take your time, pal.

Perhaps I can be of assistance.

I'm Marcus Mason.

I'd be happy to escort you below.

Uh, no, thank you.

Uh, I think we can find our own way.

We're supposed to be with the Department of Agriculture.

What are we looking for in an engine room?

Time, Doctor.

Just a little time.

How's the radiation level?

It's the same as everywhere else on the freighter.

It's fairly high, but it's steady.

Well, does that mean aliens, or not?

I can't really tell.

It could be traces of a previous cargo this ship carried.

Yeah, but that still doesn't explain

what's wrong with the back of Mason's hand.

Yes, I know.

It doesn't.

I am starting not to like this.

Isn't this the time

we're supposed to run like hell?

You okay?

I think my violin-playing days are probably over.

You play the violin?

It's something I've always been meaning to do.

No, we need him alive.

Are we done yet?

No. No, General.

I think as long as the Coast Guard

has intercepted the freighters,

we can consider this incident fully contained.

The only problem remaining right now

is how to deal with the press.

General Wilson is sending over some civilian P.R. people

to, uh, tell the necessary lies.

Suzanne, you've asked me that question three times.

Believe me, we are okay, okay?

Okay.

Okay.

Good-bye.

Anything else, Doctor,

before we make a strategic withdrawal?

I can't think of a thing.

Why do I keep having this feeling

that... you and I are overlooking something?

At least we were successful

in launching three of the freighters full of the spore

before we were discovered.

True. But logic tells us

that the enemy will also figure this out.

And that the loathsome creatures

will prevent those freighters

from reaching their destinations.

Do you wish to comment on this, Commander?

We may have been stopped this time,

but we still have the ability to manufacture the toxic spore.

In time, I know we'll find

another method of introducing it.

To life immortal.