All language subtitles for Foundation.2021.S02E05.ELiTE.English-WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

Do you trust me?

I wish I had never met you.

But you did, and we are here now,

an entire galaxy pivoting around
the actions of an individual, you.

Raych, Raych...

I don't think that I can do this.

And you, more than anyone
know what's really at stake here.

I hate what you've done to us.

I know. It'll help if you're angry.

I'm not angry. I...

I love you.

I know that too, Son.

Do it.

Go straight to the cryo-pod.
It's programmed for you.

And don't stop to say goodbye to her.

Don't implicate her in this.

Raych.

I'm still dreaming, aren't I?

This isn't a dream.

How are you still alive?

I'm not. I died on the Deliverance.

You got them all fooled.

They think you care about them.

But the truth is,
you don't care about anyone.

They're all just points on a graph.

It's why you're gonna fail.

'Cause you don't care who lives or dies.

- You weren't meant to die.
- But you changed the plan.

You implicated me 'cause you didn't
trust me.

If you had, I would've lived.

As it was, they shot me out
the air lock like garbage.

Left me floating
frozen for all eternity.

You weren't garbage.

No.

I was your son,

and you let me die.

But why am I surprised?

We both know it wasn't the first time.

You all right?

He hasn't had legs in over a century.

You know, about the legs,
how did you get them, Hari?

I told you, I don't know. I was directed
towards Oona's World by Kalle.

How? You were trapped
in the Prime Radiant.

She appeared to me.
My mind was long gone by then.

She implied that she was the
manifestation of the Prime Radiant itself.

I met her. She was as solid as me,

but she
didn't register as living on our scopes.

And I do?

Yes.

My body is as it was the moment
before I died.

I walked into the cave with Kalle.

I stood
in the darkness, weightless and waiting.

And then I awoke beside you
feeling the tug of gravity on my spine.

She cloned you.

So, after a century and a half,
the Genetic Dynasty has a rival.

The irony isn't lost on me.

Someone wanted you
flesh and blood again.

And after all that trouble you went to,
turning yourself into an idea.

Have a look at this.
I picked up some transmissions.

Foundation has spread all over
the Outer Reach.

They're selling psychohistory as magic.

They're selling you. The Prophet.

Not me. Him. The other Seldon.

And it was bound to happen.
People do love to kneel.

Approaching Ignis.

Coming up on Ignis.

Unless you hijacked my ship again.

Ignis. Imperial holding
a thousand years ago.

Diverse life, but no humans since
Empire walked away.

Hmm. So, if there's no one here,
then who is calling us?

Breaking atmo.

- Fuck!
- What?

Negative ionic particles in the
atmosphere have caused a system reboot.

What does that mean?

Well, it means that I've only got roll.
I'm flying dead stick.

- Is that bad?
- Yes!

- Can you get us down?
- Shut up!

- Trees! Trees! Trees!
- I know! I know!

Come on! Come on!

Hari, you hurt?

Just a little. It's been a while since
I felt physical pain.

It's exhilarating.

Maybe in small doses.

Run a diagnostic. I'll be back.

Uh, where are you going?

The jungle.
Someone was watching our descent.

I think you should help us
repair the ship first.

Well,
we made a lot of noise coming down.

If someone's looking for us, I'd
rather meet them outside than in here.

Fuck! Boarding ramp was damaged
in the landing.

I'll take the air lock.

You're letting what you saw
in your vision affect you. Don't.

I knew it wouldn't be easy.

They're bound to embargo any recording
of an assassination attempt.

True. And recordings from Empire's
bedchamber are off-limits.

And on the question of my family?

There's nothing, Dominion. I'm sorry.

Thank you, Markley.
We'll have another request soon.

The attempt was in Day's bedroom.

Guess I'll have to work my way in
for a look around.

Are you sure that's the only way?

You don't like me offering my young,
dimpled flesh for information?

Don't fret, Rue.
I won't give more than I choose to.

I hope not.

Sometimes I wonder where
the shy, sad princess Sareth went.

She died with the rest of my family.

She wants to copulate.

As you hoped. You want a real alliance,
not a paper one.

Yes. It's all coming together.
But I have...

I've grown accustomed to you
in this regard.

You're a man. An impressive man
by any measure.

She'll not have seen the like.

Exactly.

And since she proposed the tryst,

she will
likely be ready. It needn't take long.

And I can feel that you're ready.

- I'll stay close.
- Okay.

Think of me.

Come in, Sareth.
I've been anticipating you.

Thank you for agreeing to this.

I understand that matters of romance
are important to young ladies.

The inner sanctum. May I?

Please. Look around.

Wow. Look at you. That's something.

Thank you.

Is it being repaired?

It's, uh, mold. Parasites.

It's old.
It originally depicted Cleon I,

but it's reconceived for each Day
to highlight their particular

contribution to the Empire.

Are those the Orbital Rings above you?
Very dramatic.

My brother started them.
I finished the job.

They're so much more visible
than I thought they would be.

They were originally designed
to be invisible from the ground.

But I wanted people to see the arches,
like a shackle around the world.

The citizens need to be
reminded that they're only alive

because I will it so.

Hmm.

Your aura. Do you wear it even
when you're intimate?

Always.

Dialed up so high? What if you want to,

I don't know... get spanked?

I imagine there are paddles around here

that would leave the royal
crest imprinted on one's bottom.

I'll order some made.

Your bed is very comfortable.

There's an old saying that, uh,

a king's head never rests lightly
on his pillow.

Is that right?

I just think those other kings need
better pillows.

And I think you've told
that joke before.

Still laughing about the pillow?

No. At you.

I think you'll find, when a man
and a woman are together,

if you want things to line up properly,
the man needs to be on top.

Oh?

I feel a fool.

You'll learn. Let's get your gown up.

Your knees?

- No.
- Ow! What are you...

- No, I've got it. I've got it.
- Ow!

- Ow. Now, that's my toe.
- All right. I've got it.

- Do you need me to...
- Don't talk.

You've done this before.

Honestly, never quite like this.

You're putting on an act.
I know you've had a lover.

They were killed in the accident
that put you on the throne.

Why am I not surprised you know
so much of my family's final days?

You have no wish to bed with me.

I know why you're here.

I was almost killed in this room.

Oh, it was this room?

I watched you sliding around here,
picturing the whole thing,

looking for how they failed.

You wish they got me, don't you?

Maybe you think that would even
some imaginary scale of justice?

Maybe you paid for that result?

Yes! I was trying to figure out
how assassins got in here.

Not because I hired them.

Because I'm trying to figure out
if it's safe to live here.

Have you ever even tried to think
about things from my point of view?

Do you even know what another
point of view is?

How could you?
The people closest to you are you.

You think I can't make you safe?

I am turning Trantor upside down.
I will find the traitors...

You've been searching for days,
and you've found nothing yet.

Excuse me, Empire,
but I am not reassured.

If you're declining my
offer of marriage, say it now!

And sign my own death warrant?

Find your traitor and vow to
make it safe, if you can, and I accept.

Of course, I can. This I vow!

- Then I accept!
- Now leave!

Did you hear it all?

No. I moved down the servant-way.

She suspects I killed her family.

I had to accuse her
of trying to kill me.

It got heated. We're engaged.

Hmm. Best wishes.

And the killing of her family,
there's no trail back to you.

I made sure of that.

We have to be careful with her.

She's smart
and not above making plans of her own.

The Empress-to-be is luckier
than she deserves.

Mm-hmm.

And you are unfulfilled.

Thank you, Empire.

Mmm. Call me Cleon.

Oh.

- Ooh, I like that.
- Mmm.

You're toothsome.
How did you get so delicious?

- I eat a lot of salt, Cleon.
- Mmm.

I'm pre-seasoned.

What's your name?

Rue. Rue Corintha from Dominion.

Beautiful name. Beautiful person.

Well, I'm going to mute the effect,
in case you want to bite back.

Extraordinary.

Hmm.

Can we go earlier? To when you
picked me in the Gossamer Court?

Hmm.

Things are getting so extremely
interesting here in the present.

We'll return to that.

Waiting is half the fun.

Fine. Earlier in the day, it is.

This was assembled from many lenses
at Gossamer Court.

Hmm.

And there you are.

I think they're trying to
get your attention.

One of them is likely
to sprain something.

Tragic.

And what do you do
to get someone's attention?

Me? I refuse to look up from my game.

Is it having the effect you want?

I can only see your feet, so I'm not
too sure.

But the banter is promising.

I remember that.
My memory ends right after.

And now you can go back to the sex part.

Are you aware it's missing? The memory?

No.

I reached for your hand, and then I was
on a transport headed home...

Hmm.

...with a bite mark on my shoulder
and a full bank account.

It all seemed to make perfect sense,
like nothing was missing.

- Hmm. Really?
- Hmm.

I imagined an awkward blank space
making itself known, like...

- like a wad of cotton in one's mind.
- Hmm.

You know, I thought, since you have
the ability, that you might...

Hmm.

You never edit your own recollections?

I can imagine an emperor cutting away
moments he chooses to forget.

But you couldn't let them
be lost to history.

No, they would reside in the Memorium
with the rest of my normal audits.

Hmm.

It's a fascinating idea though.

What?

An end to regrets.

Would you do that?

Never. I embrace regrets.

I wanna remember the view
from the top of the mountain.

Even if that means I also have to
remember the fall.

You're lucky to be able
to trust your memories.

Looks like you haven't quite mastered

the
gentle art of sneaking up from behind.

That's very good.
You should think about...

Drop it.

Raise your hands. Take off that mask.

Hi, Sal.

No. You have to be dead by now.

- Are you disappointed?
- No, but...

But you're you. And you get a
gift horse, and you check its mouth.

The Beggar told me you were going
into cryosleep.

Nothing left for me on Terminus, Sal,
so I did the same.

I may have given you command,
but she's still coded to me.

I set my cryo-pod for a synchronous
wake cycle with the Beggar.

The moment you decided to come back
into the world, I would too.

But how could you be here?

You've been bouncing
all around this quadrant, Sal.

Picked up your trajectory
on Oona's World.

I reached Ignis half a day before you.

And next thing I know, I was hearing
your dulcet tones once again.

I'm sorry.

I didn't mean to be so cold earlier
about Salvor and the vision.

I can't get it out of my head,

so there's no point telling me
to just stop thinking about it.

Either help me or
just don't say anything.

The whole premise of psychohistory

is that the future isn't set in stone.

But all my visions have come true.

On Synnax, you dreamt of a great wave
crashing down on you.

It didn't. You're here.

So how will we know which of our actions

will stop Salvor's fate?

We can't. Even if we could, should we?

You just want me to give up on her

because you can't make yourself
care about anything oth...

Hey! She's Raych's child as well.

That makes her my granddaughter.

If I'd known...

You what?
Would you have done it differently?

I don't know. I'd like to think I would.

But an embryo is a very different
proposition to an actual person.

We hadn't decided yet

if we were gonna have the baby.

'Cause he knew he wouldn't be here.
We both wanted it.

You have this moment with her right now.

Not everybody gets that.

Gaal, where's the Prime Radiant?

In the cockpit. Why?

She's smiling.

Hide it. Don't tell me where.

Do it now.

Salvor, identify the stranger
you're bringing back to our ship.

Technically,
I think you'll find it's my ship.

Okay.

Hugo Crast, from Terminus.

He's my lighthouse,
the one I told you about.

A little bit more
than a lighthouse, Sal.

Open the air lock.

Okay.

Hari, open the door.

Open it, Hari.

Hugo, how tall are you?

Uh, just under two meters.

181, according to the Beggar's records.

Hari, what are you doing?

The Beggar says your combined weight
is off by three kilograms.

Are you kidding?

I could've
sweated that off in the jungle. Open up.

That's not Hugo.

Hari, three kilograms is
nothing. It's a few beers.

It's mass, and Hugo's doesn't add up.

It could be his gear, anything.

I've overridden the ship's systems.
You won't be able to open it.

Dr. Seldon, it's me, Hugo.
I was there at the First Crisis.

I was the one that went
and got the Thespins.

"Hooray for Hugo." Remember all that?

- Actually, he doesn't.
- Huh?

Hugo is one of us. This is his ship.

His ship? A Thespin ship.

Then he's still genetically encoded
on the system.

Yeah, that's right.
The Beggar knows him.

Transfer control back to him.

I can't. He slaved it to me permanently.

Did he? Well, I reset the ship to origin
settings

when I was in the mainframe.

Damn it! If you don't open,
I will give command back to him.

Salvor, wait.

Do it.

Beggar, invoke protocol.

Ship transfer back to Hugo Crast.

Now he can open the air lock himself.

Open it.

Hari, we have a problem.

Salvor, watch out!

Disable the ship's external weapons
or I'll kill her.

Hari!

- Salvor!
- Gaal!

Unthink their minds.

So the engagement's done.

He suspected I was a danger.
I needed to calm him.

And as you've always said, being pulled
closer to the throne has advantages.

I learned the assassins definitely
got into the bedchamber.

They used razor swords,

and the fresco
behind the bed got spattered with blood.

But he had dinner with us
the following night.

Is it possible?
Perhaps he was replaced after all.

Markley,
we need to find out what happened

in that room the day of the attempt.

I promise you, Dominion,
no one can get those recordings.

Empire gets memory audits,
just like concubines

and others who work at the palace.

And they're kept forever.

Original downloads stored
in a place called the Memorium.

Can you get in?

Yes. But memories of a Cleon?
They'll never release those.

Perhaps not Day's memories.

But surely someone
attended to his wounds.

- Claviger?
- Keeper Yartell. Order of Empire.

Day wants a memory audit
from the Asclepium.

I have the date and time boundaries
and the hoard number.

Give it here.

The assassination attempt.

He should have these already.

You know, I do hope somebody's
keeping track of the orders.

He's been tearing through everything
we have of that date

- down to third assistant cook.
- I'm just doing what they told me.

Thank you, Keeper.

I'm concerned, Demerzel.

Are you saying only Day has
the authority to alter his memories?

That's correct. Or yours, or Dawn's.

That can't be right.

Surely we should hold
authority in common.

You once did.
But in the aftermath of the attack,

Day was suspicious of you both.

But he saw all the scans.
He knows we're innocent. He...

Oh.

And yet he's kept his new exclusive
power hugged close to his chest.

If Day excised memories
from myself or Dawn,

how would we ever know?

Your memories are preserved
in the Memorium.

And even more complete,
my memory's unalterable.

So there are two backups
if there is any question.

But I wouldn't know to question.

I wouldn't feel anything is missing.

If Brother Day took such a drastic step,
he would tell me.

And as you know,

I must at all times do
what's best for Empire, not just Day.

I would let you know, Brother Dusk.

I will always be here,
as I always have been.

Brother Day takes a great deal
upon himself.

Thank you, Markley.

Play it.

If we can't see the sweep of the sword,
let's see who it landed on

and what they did about it.

A nanotoxin was delivered
via molecular blade.

We have 12 seconds before edema
leads to brain stem death.

Give it to me.

- Half a head.
- It's not possible.

- That's Demerzel.
- Is that a machine? I see machinery.

Trantor had machine people,
but that was millennia ago.

All gone. Banned. None survived.

I've touched her hand.
It was warm and alive.

That's not blood.

But whatever it is,
it would surely spatter.

She was in the bedroom with him.

And she's a robot.

I knew we'd end up here

as soon as
Day asked us to leave the throne room.

He's making choices, sending out
incendiary generals on missions.

And now he's taken away this power.

- Certainly not what he intended.
- I've never talked to him.

I haven't either. I never had
the humility to admit I needed to.

Let's see.

What if the corrections
to our genome weren't enough

to make our handprints match?

Don't mention that.

If he knows we're no longer made in his
image,

he will lower the ceiling on us.

Now be quiet.

Cleon, we stand before you.

Sons, brothers, selves, to seek
an audience with the august memory

of the source of all that we are.

Our hands tell our stories,
and it is your story.

Pray, hear our question.

I bet it's my palm.

I am the memory of Cleon I.
Who addresses me?

We do. The 16th and 18th exponents
of your being.

We thank you for our lives.

Ask your question, Brothers.

Brother Day has taken sole power
to edit our memories,

and we don't have the authority
to even find out if he's done so.

Is this in accord with your design?

Squabbles amongst you, is it?

He's taking too much power.

The three sides of Empire are
unbalanced. We need to recalibrate...

Enough.

You are one man.

If you become divided,
you dishonor me and what I devised.

To be united is your natural state.

To envy Day is to envy yourselves.

Genetically we are identical.

But in our temperaments we must account
for variations. And this Day,

he... he allows our
domineering side to be o...

I am aware of my own temperament
and their many shades.

They are accounted for.

What do you mean?

This is of no concern to you.

How can you say that?

Didn't you create this interface
so we could ask you for your help?

I am here to give you what you need.
Nothing more.

The dream lives on in you.

Because you kept it alive in you.

Keeper, we want to see data
on our memory hoard.

Specifically, how big are our files?

I was unaware Empire was interested
in metadata.

Uh, did you not find what you were
looking for earlier?

We did not.

Right. Well, I'd have to look it up.

While you're at it,
fetch the same for all Cleons.

We'll have something to compare.

All? Uh, how far down?

All the way down.
There have only been 18 of us.

You can do it, man.

I'll, um, need a moment.
Please wait to my left.

Dumb insolence.

I ought to have his thumbs cut off.

Do you get the feeling that we are not
on top of the heap anymore

around here?

Do you think... I mean...

We're not in danger, are we?
We are Empire.

Do you remember who he was?

Emperor Algren? Pre-Cleonic.

Yes. Look at the brushstroke.
Green on the neck.

Added after he died, like a footnote.
What's it symbolize?

It's a graven stripe.

It signifies a betrayer. A traitor.
He was executed for high treason.

We are multiple, but we are mortal.

And I should've seen this coming.
I should've seen all of this coming.

And Day?

Day was always going to write himself
into history,

one way or the other.

And there were

little conflicts in my reign

that haven't happened
for hundreds of years,

and I didn't deal with one of them.

Demerzel pacified the galaxy for me.

But Day, even as a young boy,
was ashamed of me for it.

He asked, what will history call me?

Certainly not peace bringer
or conqueror or even betrayer.

You're not dead yet.

Your legacy isn't set.

When a man is old,
he doesn't care what he remembers.

He cares how he's remembered.

And at the end,
we're all just memoriums.

Perhaps Day did you a favor
giving away your chair.

Well, now you can have
what I always wanted.

What did you want?

What every young man wants.

A life.

Love.

I was so beautiful.

Empire.

Leave us.

Seventy-eight?

My total cataphyls of memory.

What's my number?

Um, 29.

Let's look at the rest of the Cleons.

Eighty-nine, 87, 82,

83, another 87.

That's reassuring.

Looks like I am on course to hit
my average by the time I turn...

- What?
- What is it?

Cleon I had 213 cataphyls of memory?

Well, he was special.

It makes sense he'd have
a bigger range of life experience.

It does.

But that much bigger?

Did he have that full of a life?

Or is something missing
from the rest of ours?

What do we do?

Absolutely nothing,
until I can find us some leverage.

Salvor?

You okay?

Physically? Fine.

- Your instincts were right.
- Well, hardly reassuring now, is it?

They took my weapons.

- Then we're prisoners.
- Whose prisoners and where?

Well, this all predates
the Genetic Dynasty.

Emperor Kandar V, his summer palace,
probably left to rot by the Cleons.

There are no guards.

Strange for a prison.

Can you hear that?

We have to go that way.

I can't hear anything.

I do. Voices. Whispers.

Coming from up there.

I am Tellem Bond,
seventh bodily incarnation of Pa'a,

goddess of light,
wisdom, flying creatures

and the Second Chamber of Eternity.

Pa'a greets you.
Make her sign and declare yourself.

Goddess, I am Hari Seldon
of Streeling University.

These are my colleagues.

Can they not speak for themselves?

Gaal Dornick of Synnax.

Salvor.

Welcome, Hari Seldon, Gaal Dornick

and Salvor Hardin of Terminus.

You are our guests.

Offerings sometimes
flow against the tide.

Food, from a god to a man.

Thank you for your hospitality, Goddess.

How do we know it's safe to eat?

I might've killed you as you slept.
Would I wake you to poison you?

Makes me wonder why
you knocked us out in the first place.

I am remote.
I don't receive many visitors.

I needed to know your intentions.
But if it makes you feel imprisoned,

does it make you feel safe?

Makes me feel armed.

You look hard upon a goddess,
Hari Seldon of Streeling.

Apologies. It's just that the sun shines
so brightly above you.

Pa'a is goddess of light.

Indeed. And yet as brightly as
the sun shines,

you don't seem to be casting a shadow.

Your incarnation isn't
very carnate, Goddess.

Whoever's in charge, please,
could we end this charade?

Ah. The real Tellem Bond, I presume?

I thought you might
be the one to notice.

The mentally incomplete compensate
with their other senses.

Sorry, but I wanted to watch you
without you watching back.

Once you've spent time with us,

you'll understand why we're so cautious.

What brings you to our world?

An instinct.

It's almost like someone's
calling to us. Can you hear that?

Yes.

You mean a voice? My voice.

That's how it's supposed to work.
We're a refuge,

and you heard our welcome message.

You two heard it because you're like us.
You have all your senses.

Some people call it mentallics,
but I prefer "sighted."

I was the first to arrive.

I thought Ignis could serve as a haven
for other sighted,

so I called for them.

Like a lighthouse to passing ships.
But I'm borrowing your image.

I always imagine iron filings drawn
by a magnet.

Or a moth to a flame.

Not as deadly.

Anyway, once we found each other,
we were safe and strong.

Telepaths of varying abilities
and talents.

The sad little goddess
was you as a child.

My abilities were misread as godhood,

a mistake that almost cost my sanity.

Do not worship children.
It is not good for them.

Most had it worse.

Persecuted on our home worlds,
they fled before they were killed.

Look at Loron's burns.

Josiah's scar.

You know what that's like,
don't you, Gaal?

Running before they can kill you.

I see the little scars,
part of your escape.

Is it ironic being sighted
but unseen by your god?

Well, I see you, even if your god can't.

And you, standing on the
cold edge of your community,

desperately wanting to fit in.

You're reading us.

Your minds are clear as water.

The things you've lost. The people.

I'm sorry we had to use
the image of your man, Salvor.

You know, you're a much more sentimental
person than you let on.

Yeah, he kissed me. Fuck you for that.

I didn't think that was gonna happen.
I'm sorry.

But, you know, you're more angry

about being called sentimental.

I like you.

You were the one pretending to be Raych,
the one who was in my head.

Hari Seldon is famous
and famously dead and very hard to read.

I needed you to think about
your death and resurrection

so I could try to understand
what happened.

So do you? What happened?

No idea. Hari's very murky inside.

But I can see you have a plan.

And you think this place
and my sighted are a part of it.

That is correct. It is, and they are.

Come to me tomorrow,
and we will discuss it.

It's stressful, having you all here,

thinking so loudly.

My people need to rest.

How much did you read in my murk?

Enough, dear.

What is it?

You mean this?

Believe it's called the Prime Radiant.

Yes, that's it.

They were certainly trying hard
not to think about it.

I heard Hari tell Gaal to hide it.

I will find it and break it.

There's not going to be
a Second Foundation.