Original subtitles

Previously...

Why pretend the Infiniti cosmonauts are still up there?

So no one will suspect they were murdered down here.

What do you want to know?

I want to know why someone could die for this.

Whose blood is that?

Misha, promise me

you won't ever say a word to anyone.

What do you want?

To get to the bottom of this case.

We're looking for your buddy with the melted face.

January 15 - The Day of the Solar Storm

In an Alternative Version of the Universe

THROUGH THE MIRROR

ISS - 10 Days After the Crash

- Zhukovskaya. - It's a cosmonaut.

The man who killed the girl. He had saved his spacesuit.

Are you sure it's his?

It's burned, just like him.

Does it say S-KV on the right shoulder?

Yes.

- The third passenger. - What?

The suit is from MIR.

Do your cosmonauts have medical records?

Of course.

Listen to me.

Compare your cosmonauts' prints

to the ones found on the Indian girl. I'll send them.

His meal is still hot.

We just missed the son of a bitch.

He can't be far.

What now?

Hands up!

He killed her.

He killed her.

On your knees.

You hear me?

She's dead!

On your knees!

He killed her.

She is dead.

- Hello, Dersou. - Hello.

I need to consult MIR's medical archives.

From the Eternity Mission in 1997.

Mir? Are you sure?

Why? Don't I seem sure?

Forgive me.

Your name?

I want a drink.

Aren't you some kind of imam?

Imams are holy men.

I am...

a Shaitan.

The kind that decapitates a cosmonaut?

And blows up little kids!

I'm neither one

or the other.

Don't try to mess with me, pal!

And you? What kind of Shaitan are you?

- You're dead, you bastard... - Fef!

Your prints are on a dead woman.

The same prints, maybe, but not mine.

Even real twins have different prints.

I didn't kill anyone.

I cared for them.

By chopping off their heads?

The radiation killed them.

So we had a funeral.

I burned their heads to free their souls,

so they could return to their world.

Maybe

they were Shamans, too.

Yes.

Yes?

The prints do belong to a former cosmonaut.

Who?

I seriously doubt

you'll believe me.

Try me.

Lydia?

You just had to stick your nose in.

Hello, Lydia?

For 25 years,

you've been watching me.

Questioning me.

Who are you?

Who am I?

Emil Durkhov,

born in Kazan

on April 7, 1954.

And him?

Him?

Emil Durkhov,

born in Kazan

on April 7, 1954.

Like thousands of Emil Durkhovs, in thousands of other dimensions.

You're not the Emil

that I know!

No.

25 years ago,

a miracle occurred, Lydia.

Two identical realities

intersected during the solar storm.

Two Durkhovs from two different worlds

were together in the same place,

at the same time.

There was one Durkhov

too many.

Both Emils returned and landed here.

One whose face

had been burned in the fire,

and whose body

was badly bruised.

The people of the desert cared for him.

He adopted the life of the nomads,

along with their faith

and their god.

He withdrew from the world,

to try

to find his place.

He became...

a Zoatar.

Don't listen to him.

He's messing with us.

The other became

Director of Operations.

You're not a scientist, Lydia.

You can't comprehend what such a discovery means!

Millions of worlds!

Millions of beings who come together as one.

A kind of immortality!

Like the millions of leaves

that make up

a single tree.

For 25 years, we've waited

to try again.

But people like you

wouldn't let us.

Only a visionary can grasp such a truth.

One must be prepared to sacrifice lives,

even Anna's...

Don't be afraid.

Millions of versions of our lives exist.

You are about to discover this.

How I envy you.

We are all like Narcissus...

who wanted to gaze at his reflection in the water

and pass through the mirror...

And in the end...

he drowned.

You again...

Are you ok?

You came. Did you save me?

I had 45 seconds.

Enough time to open the airlock and grab you

before my lungs exploded.

You're the answer I've been waiting for.

I think they miss you.

What about Anthony?

Where is he?

What are you going to do?

Take him back to the station?

Walk in and say, "Hi guys!

"Meet Emil Durkhov #2!

"He's the key to everything!"

Is that the plan?

They won't believe you.

I'm not taking him to the station.

We're going to the Cosmodrome.

To see the other one.

They're alive.

And they're also dead.

5 months ago,

when the solar storm hit,

I came face-to-face with him.

The "other" him.

And I felt like I was discovering him for the first time.

From that moment on,

you and I

shared the same world.

All of a sudden, I inherited...

all of this.

All your feelings.

All my love.

That world down there

isn't my world.

This love

isn't mine either.

I don't belong down there.

I don't belong anywhere.

Yes.

Ok.

Can a satellite be rerouted so easily?

With the codes and a good transmitter, yes.

Balkhash?

Too far. Too obvious. Something closer...

Durkhov left the Cosmodrome.

Ulan just told me.

There's an antenna at Krayniy, where the 2nd body was.

The Mercury antenna. Used for Mir.

Fine, let's go.

Tell Ulan not to move until we get there.

If Durkhov killed Adil,

I'll take care of him.

In 15 minutes, clear out.

And her?

Clean her up, along with the rest.

Keep an eye on him.

Hi, Ulan?

I need you to do something for me.

It has to do with my sister.

We started this together, and that's how we'll end it.

What are you doing?

Why?

Don't worry.

You'll be fine.

You don't even know if Tony's alive!

This way.

I tried my hardest to spare you.

I really tried my best.

But you wouldn't let it go.

All I needed you to do

was lead me to Barbecue Face.

Irina and your whore are already gone.

It was time to move on.

But you never know when to stop!

They threatened you.

They blew up your car.

They even killed your son...

Adil wasn't supposed to be in the car.

No one was.

Forgive me.

I didn't have a choice.

Do what you have to.

Sorry.

I had a tough time finding you.

I believe I owe you an apology.

After all, I stole your name,

your face, your world...

You shouldn't have intentionally exposed those bodies

and drawn attention to them.

But I'm a good sport.

I got what I wanted.

Rest assured,

history will remember our name,

like all the men who have changed the world.

Galileo,

Newton,

Copernicus...

and Durkhov.

The sun burned my face,

but you...

it melted your brain.

Without people like us,

mankind would still believe the world is flat

and the Sun is the center of the world.

Without our discovery,

we would still be alone in the universe.

When, in fact...

we...

are infinite.

I will kill you.

But I promise,

you won't really die because I'll still be alive.

I did it.

Good.

My sister.

Release her.

Your name,

Durkhov.

You can have it back.

Along with the crimes that go with it.

When the satellite and the ISS collide, the crew will disintegrate.

Once you burn to death, they'll have their Durkhov.

The man who murdered Lydia and Reva.

They'll claim you betrayed Russia for the money.

They'll say you destroyed the ISS.

But when they realize what we've done,

when they'll look at our work, they'll understand.

And then,

our name

will live forever.

Don't be scared.

I'm just sending you back to the flames

that should have taken you in the first place!

The door's locked.

Emil, what have you done?

How do we stop this?

The Russian way!

ADIL TURGUN

After four days of debriefing,

Anna Zarathi finally spoke to the press.

She was questioned

about the controversial, high-risk ISS rescue mission,

and the death of the Director of Operations,

suspected collusion with private American interests.

I'm ready.

You handled that very well.

Thank you.

I think this is yours.

That's a man's watch.

Anna?

What really happened up there?

Exactly what I told the Commission.

Reva, Lydia, Durkhov...

What's the secret behind their deaths?

What do you want to know?

What will the Americans really find up there?

You know the story of Schrodinger's cat?

Until the box is opened,

nobody knows what's inside.

The cat

is both dead and alive.

Hi, Daddy!