All language subtitles for 32 - The Human Interest Story

Good evening.

Do you enjoy assembling
your own high fidelity

or stereophonic sound systems,

with their complicated components
and speakers on every wall?

Then you'll be especially interested
in what I'm about to show you.

I have just developed what I consider
the latest in sound reproduction.

This is designed for those
persons who desire simplicity

rather than fidelity.

As you can see,
there is only one speaker.

Nor is that the only improvement.

We have also eliminated the
old-fashioned record changer.

Now, only two attachments
are necessary,

a small crank and a hearing aid.

By the way, neither of those items
is needed for our next number.

Yeah?

All right. The police caught
her outside of the house.

What's the charge?

Drinking in public view? I don't know.
Maybe I can get something out of it.

Thank you very much.

Everett here. Yeah.
No, I'm not too busy.

I got a little story to knock
out, but I can do it later.

Uh-huh. Okay, Cargan.
I'll be right in.

What's up?

You know Barney Welsh?

- Never heard of him.
- That much?

He runs a tavern
right across the street.

I...

I've seen you in there 100 times.

Yeah, I know him.
He mixes a pretty good drink.

Look, you asked me a silly question.
I'm gonna give you a silly answer.

What about him?

He just called in a tip
on what might be a story.

Says there's a guy over
there claimed he's a Martian.

A Martian?
You mean, from the planet Mars?

That's what he says.

Barney thought there
might be a gag story in it.

He's gonna keep him over there till we
get somebody over there to talk to him.

You're the boss.
I'm on my way.

Hey! No drinks
on the expense account.

What about the drinks I've got
to buy him to make him talk?

All right. But don't go overboard.

All right.

Hello, Barney.
Did you talk to Cargan?

Yeah. Guy at the end of the counter.

Don't you think he's drunk?

Didn't seem so.

I'd say he was cold sober
when he walked in.

That's only the second
glass of beer he's had here.

Well, look, Barney. He's either
kidding you or he's crazy.

Sure didn't sound
like he was kidding.

Sounded serious and plenty worried.

Well, then he's crazy.

I guess.
Don't know what else.

Listen, Barney, I'm gonna
walk down and brace him.

Now, when I sit down, you
bring down a couple of beers.

That is, if he'll talk to me.

He'll talk to you, all right.

I already set it up for you.

Good. Now, what did you tell him?

Did you tell him
I'm a reporter, or what?

Nah. Just told him I had a friend
who was a real smart guy

and could give him good
advice about what to do.

He might clam up if you
tell him you're a reporter.

Well, as long as you were good
enough to set this up for me,

then I got time for a shot.
Hmm?

Here's how.

One more of these, and I'll
be ready for the Martian.

Sure, Bill.

How much did he tell you?

That he's a Martian.

Oh!

Well, did he tell you
how he got here on Earth

or how long he's been here?

Hasn't an idea how he got here.

As for when, about
two hours ago, he says.

Mmm.

Yeah.

Did he tell you his name?

Let's see...
Yang something.

Oh, yeah.

Yangan Dahl.

Yeah, well, I bet that's not
the name on his driver's license.

Well, here goes nothing.

Mr. Dahl? My name is Everett.
You know, the man that Barney mentioned.

Oh! Glad to meet you, Mr. Everett.
Well, sit down.

What'll you have?
Bartender!

Don't bother. I already ordered
two beers before I came over.

Well, thanks.

Um...

Please don't call me Mr. Dahl.

We don't use titles,
and it sounds strange.

Call me Yangan or just Yang.

Well, all rightee, Yang.

I'll tell you what.
Why don't you call me Bill?

I don't like formalities, either.

You'd better take the rest of this.

Do you drink beer on Mars?

Oh, no. Nothing alcoholic at all.

Alcohol is poison to a Martian,
even in very small quantities.

Well, how come you're drinking it now?

Because this isn't me
you're looking at, Bill.

This is somebody else's body
I suddenly found myself in.

You speak pretty good English.

Well, it's because
of this body I'm in.

I'm not him.

But I've got his
memories besides my own.

I know everything that he knew.

That includes his language.
Your language, of course.

Well, if you have his memories,
you must know his name.

Well, sure.

Howard Wilcox.

Well, you wouldn't have
anything to verify that,

you know, like identification,
driver's license or something?

Well, I don't need it.
I know.

But if you want proof,

driver's license on top, other
cards under it, social security,

couple of club memberships,
things like that.

Hmm.

Howard Wilcox.
614 Brynmawr Street.

Is that your address?

It's Howard Wilcox's address, yes.

And, of course, I remember it because I
remember everything that he knew, but...

I'm not Howard Wilcox.

And I don't want to talk about him.

I want to talk about me, the real me.

Not this body I'm in.

But can I ask you a question first?

Shoot.

Are you a doctor?

I know the bartender thinks I'm crazy.
He was nice about it,

but I can tell he thought so.

Did he send for you
because you're a doctor?

No, I'm not a doctor.

And I'm not a cop, either.

It's just that Barney knows
I'm interested in psychology.

But you're not a psychologist?

No, no. I work in an office about
three or four blocks from here.

Yeah. I guess you could
call me a lay psychologist.

Do you think I'm insane?

Well, people who usually are don't
wonder whether they are or not.

Look, why don't you just
start from the beginning, hmm?

Well...

I'll start three days ago.

Three days ago, I was on Mars.
I was a Martian.

I am a Martian, I mean.
But...

This isn't my own body I'm in.

My own body is nothing
like this one.

I'm about eight feet tall.

Your method of measurement.

Six-fingered hands. The fingers
jointed differently from yours.

This body I'm in, it frightens me.

It seems awkward to me.

You sure described yourself,
or Yangan Dahl.

And three days ago, you were on Mars.

Go on.

Well, three days ago,
they stopped bringing me food.

I was locked in a place...

Well, it was something
like what you'd call a jail.

The window was barred,
but you could...

You could see the street outside.

Mmm-hmm.

It had been a busy street.
Hundreds of people walking by in an hour.

Sometimes I used to count them.

Just to pass the time.
Make a game of it.

Trying to guess how many'd
go by in the next hour

and then count them to see
how close my guess had been.

That morning there was
no one on the street.

Empty, deserted.

And no one came to feed me.

And I got hungry, and I
yelled and pounded on the door,

but nobody came!

Yeah? Well, how did
you manage to get out?

It took me almost three days.

I managed to pry a stone
out of the floor.

And then more of them, until I had
an area big enough to start digging.

And I tunneled under the door.

Yeah?

I was starving by then.

I went to the...
you'd call it the kitchen.

Found food and ate it.

The whole building was deserted.

There was cooked food on the stove, cold.

Big piles of dirty...
Our equivalent to dishes.

They just walked off and left everything.

Well, I went outside
and wandered around the city.

It was Skar, one of our big cities.

It had well over a million people.

Uh, what is the population of Mars?

Oh, about 100 million.

That is, there were that many.

Millions are dead now.

I found them, finally.

All in one place.

Their bodies starting to rot.

Well, uh...

What killed them?

I don't know.

It wasn't krill. That's the disease
that was killing us off.

It came from the winds off the deserts,

and our scientists couldn't cure it.

It had made Mars a dying world.

A dying world with 100 million people.

Oh, yes. You see, only
a few generations ago,

there were about
five times as many of us.

Half a billion instead of 100 million.

But at the rate krill
was killing us off,

there wouldn't have been any of
us at all in a generation or so.

Let's have a couple of more beers.

Barney!

All right.

Oh, let me pay for this one.
There's plenty of money in this wallet.

No, that's all right.
I've got a company tab here.

Oh, thank you very much.

You were saying that
the population of Mars was dying.

Yes.

Oh.

Uh, where was I before I
got on the population angle?

You were walking through the streets
looking for people,

and you couldn't find a soul.

The city name...

Oh, Skar.
Yes, that's right.

Well, I found a targan
and I took it...

Found a what?

A targan.
Something like an airplane,

on a different principle, of course.

The air on Mars is too thin.

All right, you took a targan where?

To Undanel.
That's our biggest city.

You'd call it the capital.

I didn't see anyone there, either.
Not until...

Until what?

Well, I had an idea. Although
I didn't know what the idea was.

I took the targan up again, and I
headed it for the big ceremonial field

north of Undanel.

And there I found them.

Them?

Yeah.
The other Martians?

Yes.

It's a big field.

And we're all there.

Like I said, their bodies starting to rot.

I still don't know what killed them.

Well, you mentioned some disease
earlier, that was killing them off.

What was the name of it?

Krill?

Yeah, krill.
Maybe it was that.

When a Martian dies of krill,
his body doesn't rot.

It withers.

In the middle of the field,
there was a platform

big enough for me to land
the targan on it, and I did.

And in the center of the platform,

there was a tall column of copper.

Copper on Mars is like gold
or platinum on this planet.

There was a button in the column,

and slumped at the foot of the pedestal
was the body of a priest.

Almost as though he pressed
the button and then died.

You mean mass suicide?

Oh, no.

A Martian never commits suicide.

To us, it's a terrible crime.

I leaned over the priest's body

and pressed the button.

And...

And?

And in this body, I was
walking along a street,

here on Earth!

Sit down.

How did you know you were on Earth?

Because I had this Howard
Wilcox's memories, too.

And I was confused.
I walked and wandered,

trying to straighten things out.

And then I...
This body got thirsty.

I was passing here and came in.

And I couldn't stand it any longer,

and I started to talk
to the bartender over here.

You all right?

Yeah.

Did you tell the bartender
everything you told me?

Oh, no.
Just the start of it.

He told me to sit down
and wait and he'd call you.

End of story?

Yeah.

Well, it's been a pleasure.

Well, what am I gonna do?

Look, why don't you call your wife?

Why should I? It isn't my home.
It's Howard Wilcox's.

Now, look. Howard or
Yangan or whoever you are.

Right now, there's a woman sitting home,
and she's worrying about you.

The least you could do is call her
and give her an explanation.

But I'd have to tell her the truth.
Martians don't lie.

Yeah. But humans do.
And especially to their wives.

I mean, let's face it, man.
Whether you're part Martian or not...

Whether you're part Martian or not,
you're also a part Earthman.

You've got Howard Wilcox's memories.
Now, what would he do?

Well, call, of course.

But you mean I should pretend to be him?
Act like him?

Howard,

possibly a man,
a Martian named Yangan Dahl,

did die on Mars a few hours ago.

And somehow his mind got mixed up
with yours at the time of death.

Now, I'm not saying this is what happened,

but it's not entirely impossible.

If you got to believe
something, believe that.

Yeah, I see what you mean.

Why don't you call her?

But what can I tell her?

Well, what would Howard Wilcox tell her?

You can answer that better than I can.

Oh, I can say that I ran
into an old school friend,

and we got talking
and lost track of time.

That'll do it.
Okay, listen.

Well, if it's gonna
help you out any, I...

I can go along with you.

Would you?

Yeah.

You will wait, won't you?

Yeah, sure.

Getting along with the Martian?

Yeah. He's quite a fellow.

He's in there, talking to his wife.

Wonder what story he's telling her.

You're sure you won't
let me help you, dear?

Absolutely sure.

You two must still have
a lot to talk about.

What do you do, Mr. Everett?

Oh, well. By preference
I eat Wiener schnitzel.

But I'm a salesman.
You know, men's clothes.

Oh, at a men's shop?

No, no. Wholesale.
I travel, cover a lot of the Midwest.

Must be interesting work.

- Yeah.
- Excuse me.

You're a lucky man, Howard.
What a lovely wife.

Yeah.

You married, Bill?

No. No, not yet.
Maybe some day.

Don't wait too long.
You'll be sorry.

Yeah.

Bill, I've been thinking.

The advice you gave me
in that bar was very good.

I'm gonna take it.

Or try to.

Except for one thing.

Oh, what's that?

About not telling anyone.

I'm going to tell Elsie
all about it, tonight.

Yeah. But what are
you gonna gain by that?

Probably nothing.

That's not the point.

It's just that...

Well...

Elsie and I have never had
any secrets from one another,

and I wouldn't like to start now.

Yeah, but what if
she thinks you're insane

and wants to have you
committed to an institution?

I'll try and talk her out of it.

If she won't accept my explanation,
maybe she might be right.

In other words, if she wants you
to accept treatment, you'll do it.

Sure.

And there's another angle.

Yeah, what's that?

Well, look how much good it
did me talking to you, Bill.

I think it would do me even
more good to talk to Elsie.

After all, she's my wife.

Yeah. Mmm-hmm.

Maybe even to other people.

Maybe.

At least to a psychologist.

Listen, Howard, before
you make any decisions,

I'd like you to take a walk with me.

I want to show you something.

Sure. What is it?

Well, it's gonna be a lot easier to
show you than to tell you about it.

Look, why don't you tell your wife we're
going out for some beer or something.

It won't take very long.

Well, if you say so.

Right.

Uh, honey, we're all out of
beer and Bill would like some,

so we're gonna go out.
We'll be right back.

All right, dear. Say, if you think
you'll be wanting a drink later on,

you better stop and pick it up.

I used the last
of the gin for the martinis.

Will do. Bye, honey.

What...
What is it?

This is it.
Come on.

What was it, Bill? False alarm?

No. He was a Martian, all right.
He didn't know we'd come here.

He thought we were all dead.

What had happened?

Well, apparently he had a mental breakdown.

He was in an institution in Skar.

Somebody slipped up
and left him in his room.

Nobody bothered to tell him the score.

But how did he find his way here?

Well, he finally got out of the room.

He took a targan, found a mentacontrol,

pushed the button. Had enough
juice left to send him after us.

- Did you tell him?
- No.

No, I couldn't trust him.
I was afraid he might talk.

I had to kill him.

You mean, you couldn't
trust him with the truth?

His IQ was about 20.

By our standards, that's about
as smart as an average Earthman.

Luckily, he didn't know that Barney
was one of us and had tipped us off.

What about the wife?

Did she suspect anything?

No, not a thing.
But she can identify me.

I think you better
move me up to copy desk.

It'll keep me from wandering
around during the day.

All right.
What about your evenings?

I'll stay in my apartment.

It won't be for long.
Just until we take over.

Our next bit of science fiction

comes in the form
of a one-minute commercial.

After which, I shall reappear.

As for Mr. Everett,
I should say that he was caught

and paid his debt to society.

Except that the Earthman society,

that loved to catch
and penalize one another,

ceased to exist after we took over.

We have taken over, haven't we?

We haven't?

My fellow Martians seemed
to have taken umbrage

at my letting the cat out of the bag.

However, I shall be allowed to return
to Earth next week at the same time.

We Martians have found that those
not smart enough to be trusted,

the ones with very low IQs,

are still perfectly suited
to appear on television.

Our institutions are full of them.

Good night.