All language subtitles for The Alfred Hitchcock Hour S03E11 Consider Her Ways 1080p

- Good evening.

Perhaps you have already
heard of the latest

in telephone services,
Dial Analysis.

It has been instituted in places

suffering from a shortage
of psychoanalysts

or a shortage of money
with which to pay them.

- How do you do?

This is Dial Analysis.

When you hear the signal,

begin telling Dial
Analysis your problem.

Continue until you
hear the second signal.

The recording you will
make will be monitored

at a later time by one of
our resident psychiatrists.

- Dear sir.

Gentlemen.

Mama?

- I'm
afraid that is the end

of today's session.

Please call tomorrow
at the same time.

Pleasant dreams.

- Any problems or
neuroses indicated

by the preceding are my own

and do not reflect
those of the sponsor

or of the management
of the station

to which you are listening.

This evening's tale begins with
a nightmare-like experience,

but that is only a prelude

to the terrifying
events which follow.

And now, speaking of
terrifying events.

- I seem to
be in a timeless,

spaceless void,
neither light nor dark.

I have awareness but not senses,

mind but no memory.

Then I begin to
feel that I am being

pulled this way and that.

It seems that rival forces
are fighting for me.

- Here she comes.

Resuscitation seemed
to be retarded

this time for some reason.

Make a note of that, Nurse.

This is her fourth, isn't it?

- Yes, Doctor.

- Strange.

Well, get some fluids
into her and ship her out.

- After the fourth, it
should come easy, Mother.

I'll get you a drink of water.

You'll be all right in no time.

Can you walk to the car?

- Of course.

What car?

- To take
you home, naturally.

Drink up, Mother Orcus,
and let's get along.

- Uh!

Uh!

Uh.

- Doctor!

Doctor!

- Yes?

- Mother 417 is in trouble.

- What happened?

- She just fainted,
Doctor, as if she'd

had some kind of shock.

- Well, she's been signed out.

She can't stay here.

We need the room.

Get me a number three sedative.

- Who am I?

There's something
terribly wrong.

This isn't me, this can't be me.

Tell me, please.

- Now, Mother Orcus, it's
going to be all right.

Don't you worry about a thing.

We'll have you back
home in no time.

- You're not going
to sedate me anymore.

Who are you?

- That should hold her
till you get her home.

You get her ready and
call the ambulance.

- Welcome, Mother Orcus.

Do you think you
can walk, Mother?

- Of course.

- Mother Orcus, dear,

now, now, what's the matter?

- Ugh!

Ah!

- Hello, Orcus.

What's the matter, honey?

Did you have a bad time?

- Ah.

- There you are,
dear, safe home again.

Now, you'll be all right
after you've rested.

- What's the matter with her?

Did she make a mess of it?

- Now, there's no call for
that tone, Mother Hazel.

Mother Orcus had four
beautiful babies,

didn't you, dear?

She's just tired after the trip.

- Babies?

Where?

- Don't be ridiculous, dear.

Now try to sleep.

- What are you sulking about?

- I seem to have lost my memory.

- I thought there was something.

I suppose you
can't even remember

if your babies were
grade one this time.

- They had to be
grade one, Hazel.

You know that.

Else Orcus would've
been re-rated

and sent to Whitley
instead of back here.

You do remember us, Orcus?

- I'm sorry, but
everything before I came to

this morning is a blank.

- There you are, dear.

Not ready for it yet?

We'll have it later.

- I'd rather
have something to read.

- You're not feeling
quite yourself.

Now, you try and sleep.

- I don't want to.

I'd like something to read.

- You've had an
exhausting time, Mother.

Now, you'll feel better later.

- For heaven sakes,
I've only asked

for something to read!

- Now, what in the world
would a mother want

with knowing how to
read, hmm?

- Read and write too, I suppose?

- Is there some
law against that?

Aren't I supposed to know
how to read and write?

- Orcus, honey, don't
you think you oughta ask

to see the doctor?

- There's nothing wrong with me.

There's something
wrong with you!

All I asked was for a book,

and you act as if
I'd gone crazy!

- What use is
reading for a mother?

That's not gonna help her
have better babies, dear.

- Is that all you think
about, having babies?

There are other
things in the world

besides having babies.

What is this, a
psychiatric ward?

I'm no mother!

- Of course you're a mother.

You're a grade one mother
with three births registered,

12 fine class A babies.

You can't have forgotten that.

- I've got to get out of here.

Uh, uh.

Help!

Somebody please help!

Don?

You can't fool me anymore.

I know who I am now.

- But, Mother Orcus.

- I'm not a mother!

I'm not a mother to anybody!

I'm just a woman who
once had a husband

who hoped one day
she'd have his babies.

- What is a husband?

- When a woman loves a man.

- What's a man?

- Pleasure time, mothers!

- Get away from me
you little monsters!

- Mother Orcus, now
what's the trouble?

- I will not have them
pawing me like that!

- But Mother they--

- I will not have it!

- Orcus is off her head.

She's been telling
us awful stories.

- Go and report yourselves.

- I suppose that'll
make you feel better

getting them a beating.

- A beating?

- Yes, beaten.

Look at her, all innocent.

Pretty soon she's gonna
say that she forgot

that servitors get beaten
for upsetting the mothers.

- Well?

- It's Mother Orcus, Doctor.

She's been behaving
strangely since she

got back this morning.

- Headache?

- No.

- What strange behavior?

- She's been upsetting
the other mothers

with some awful talk.

- It was disgusting.

And she's got delusions.

She thinks she can
read and write.

- Do you?

- That shouldn't be
difficult to settle.

Give me some paper and a pencil.

- What was the awful talk about?

- It was horrible.

About two human
sexes like animals.

It was disgusting.

- Get her to the sick bay.

Now, let's have it straight.

Who told you this stuff
about two human sexes?

- Oh, please, Doctor.

- Now listen here, Orcus.

You were normal when
you went to the clinic

and had your babies.

Now you've come back
with your head full

of sickening nonsense
about two sexes

and reading and writing.

I want to know
who's responsible.

We can make you talk, you know,

even if you are a mother.

- I am not a mother.

I'm an MD

I'm an MD in the
throes of a nightmare.

- You think you're
a doctor of medicine?

- Well, after two
years of internship

at Brockton General Hospital,
I'm reasonably sure of it.

- Mother Daisy was
apparently right,

you are delusional.

It's seldom we still come
across a post-partum breakdown.

- Post-partum nothing!

I've never had a
baby in my life!

- You were brought
up and developed

to be a mother, Orcus.

You are a mother.

Just look at you.

- Yes, just look at me!

Nevertheless, I am not a mother!

Now, suppose you tell
me what this place is

and what's going on around here.

- Better I suggest
you first tell me

all you remember, all you know,

so that we are not obliged

to resort to other measures.

- Oh, that has a familiar
nightmare ring about it.

Hitler, Stalin.

- Mother Orcus.

- No!

Waterleigh, Jane Waterleigh.

Maiden name Sumner.

I was in the hospital on duty

the night that Donald Waterleigh

was brought in for
a ruptured appendix.

The house surgeon
was scrubbing up

for another emergency,
so I operated.

- You performed an appendectomy?

- It was just one of many

but the most
important of my life.

I became Donald's wife.

And a year later, he was
killed in an accident.

- Mother Orcus, where
did you get these ideas?

Shall we begin again?

From the beginning.

- No, Mother Orcus!

- That was very naughty
of you, Mother Orcus.

I'm ashamed of you.

- Oh, go away!

- Mother Orcus, I have
orders for your arrest!

Get Mother Orcus ready!

- What's this all about?

- What are you doing here?

- Mother Orcus is under arrest.

- A mother under arrest?

- What's the charge?

- Mother Orcus is
accused of reactionism.

- Oh, nonsense.
- A reactionist mother?

What will you numbskulls
think up next?

Go on, get out.

- But, Doctor--
- I said get out!

You've no authority
in my section.

Out!

- I'll need a signed refusal
to surrender the mother.

- Very well, if it
will make you happy.

Now, Mother Orcus, let's
see if we can find out

what's happened to you.

It will help us all
if you're quite frank.

- I have nothing to conceal.

I want to find out
just as much as you do.

More.

- You spoke of a man,
Donald Waterleigh

whom you think you married.

Now, will you tell our director

exactly what happened.

- Donald died.

He was a test pilot,

and he was killed in a crash.

We had been married for a year.

- Your hallucination
sounds very specific.

- No, you misunderstand.

This is the hallucination.

This place and you and the
shape I'm in and this horror.

- Tell us more about what
you consider reality.

You had a man, and he died.

What then is your reality?

- I don't remember very much
after Donald was killed.

The days came and went,

and then one day, I woke up

and I knew that I had
to start work again.

- What work?

- I told you, I'm an MD!

- You seem to be consistent
in your delusion.

Go on.

- I went back to Brockton
General Hospital,

but the work didn't
seem the same anymore.

Nothing was very important.

And then one day, Dr. Hellyer,

he was in charge of
Brockton General Hospital,

told me about a friend of his

who had synthesized a narcotic.

- What was the name?

- Sonodrine.

Do you know it?

- I've heard of it.

- In its original state,

it comes from the
leaves of a tree

which grows in Venezuela.

The Indians discovered it.

They chew on the leaves
until they go into a trance

in which they believe
that their spirits

are free to wander
anywhere in time or space.

- You have actually
taken this drug?

- The synthesized product.

- Why?

- I felt it was my
chance to be useful.

I had no ties, and
I didn't care what

happened to me, so I
volunteered to test it

and see if the reports were true

that it produced powerful,
mystical experiences.

It seems to have
produced a combination

of the absurd and the grotesque.

- You are suggesting
that we, all this,

are merely a product of
your narcotic hallucination?

- What else?

- Thank you, Mother Orcus.

I shall consider your case

and see what steps to take.

- The last half of our drama

will be seen in a moment.

We pause now to place this
station-to-station call.

- Welcome, my dear.

- Thank you.

- Come and sit down.

- Do you think it will stand it?

- Oh, perhaps you'll be more
comfortable on the couch.

- Yes, perhaps.

Uh.

- Tea if you please, Mildred.

You'll have tea, my dear?

- Yes, thank you, Mrs. uh?

- Oh, I haven't
introduced myself, Laura.

Not Mrs. or Miss, just Laura.

And you are Orcus, Mother Orcus.

- So they tell me.

This is so...

I'm not insane, am I?

- The report from the
home expresses the view

that you are suffering from
schizophrenic delusions.

But the director also
considers the possibility

that you are a genuine case
of projected perception.

That is why they sent you
to me, for my opinion.

I am a historian.

- Projected perception!

Well, if that were possible.

- But there's no doubt about
the possibility, my dear.

There are three reliably
documented cases,

and two of them are associated
with the drug sonodrine.

- If that were so, oh.

But where am I?

- I think I understand how
unreal this must seem to you.

When were you born?

- July 5, 1938.

- Ah, the second Roosevelt,
Franklin Delano, the New Deal.

Pearl Harbor, the Second
World War, interesting period,

typical of the male
functioning in all his glory.

Cream and sugar?

- No, thank you.

Thank you.

- Tell me, my dear,
what strikes you

as the oddest feature in
your experience so far?

I mean apart from
your appearance.

Possibly because you
haven't seen a man?

- Well, that among other things.

Where are the men?

- There aren't any, not
at all, not anymore.

Ooh, do have a cake.

- But how is that possible?

I mean, how can you?

Well, I mean--
- I know it will seem

impossible to you, but it is so.

I'm an old woman now,
and in all my 80 years,

I've never seen a man,
except in old pictures.

- I don't doubt you, and yet--

- I understand a little
how you must feel.

When I was a girl,
I used to listen

a lot to my grandmother.

She was as old as I am now.

But when she spoke
about the young man

she was once engaged
to, the tears would

roll down her cheeks.

Not just for him
but for the world

she'd known as a girl.

Were you perhaps engaged once?

- I was married once
for a little while.

- It must be very
strange to be owned.

- Owned?

- Ruled by a husband.

- Oh, but it wasn't that.

It wasn't like that
at all, it was...

What happened to all the men?

- They all died.

They fell sick and died.

Sure you won't
have a little cake?

A sandwich?

- All of the, everywhere?

- In a little
more than a year,

they were all gone,
all over the world.

- How could this
possibly happen?

- Just an accident,
a piece of research

that produced unexpected
secondary results.

Did you ever hear of
a man named Perrigan?

- No, I don't think so.

It's an uncommon name.

- It became very commonly known.

Dr. Perrigan was a
biologist working

on the extermination
of the brown rat.

He succeeded remarkably
with a selective virus

of great virulence.

But somehow Perrigan's
virus mutated,

and the new strain spread

with devastating speed
among human beings.

Fortunately, the majority
of women were immune.

But men were found
to have no immunity.

They, like the rats, were
completely wiped out.

- But surely, without men,

that would be the
end of everything.

Everything would collapse.

- It nearly did.

There was chaos for a
time and much starvation.

Almost all the
large organizations
broke down entirely.

You see, although women
outnumbered the men,

they had only been
important as consumers

and spenders of money.

When the crisis came,
hardly any of them

knew how to do things
because they'd all

been owned by men and obliged
to live as pets and parasites.

- That is simply not so!

- But it wasn't
their fault, my dear.

At the beginning of
the 20th century,

women were beginning
to have their chance

to lead a useful
and creative life.

But that didn't suit commerce!

It needed women more
as mass consumers

and as producers, so
romance was adopted

to promote consumption.

Women were induced
to believe that being

owned by some man and set
down in a little brick box

to buy all the
things manufacturers

wanted them to buy would be
the highest form of bliss.

- I tell you, it wasn't
like that at all!

All right, some of what
you say may be true,

but that's only the
superficial part.

It wasn't a bit the
way you described it.

It was my world, I know!

- There's such a thing
as being too close

to make a proper evaluation.

At a distance, we're
still able to perceive

your society for what it was,

a heartless exploitation of
the weaker-willed minority.

- That is the most
unrecognizable,

distorted view of my
world I ever heard!

Less creative indeed!

Women were in all
kinds of fields.

They were doctors and writers

and they had babies!

- What makes you
think there's anything

creative about having babies?

Would you call a pot creative
because seeds grow in it?

- Is that all the mothers are?

How awful.

- They're very happy in
their simple function.

- How without men?

- A species, my dear,
even our species,

has great will to survive.

As you know, I'm
sure, test tube life

in simple form has
been achieved for years

before the crisis caused
by Dr. Perrigan's virus,

and the doctors
pursued their research

intensively along those lines.

So through all the
hunger and chaos,

babies somehow
continued to be born.

The girl babies lived,

and the boy babies died.

This was distressing
and wasteful too.

So before long, only
girl babies were born.

None of this is
really remarkable

as it seems at first sight.

You know, the
locusts will continue

to produce female locusts
without male assistance.

The aphid too is able to go on

breeding alone for
many generations.

So is it surprising that with
our superior intelligence

we're able to match
the biological

achievements of the insects?

- But what have you achieved?

- Survival.

You see, man was only
a means to an end.

We needed him to have babies.

- Where are all the babies?

No one will tell me.

- Really?

I can't think why.

It's no secret.

The procedure is very simple.

After the delivery, the
doctors examine the babies

and allocate them suitably
to different classes.

After that, of course,
it's just a matter

of seeing to their
specialized feeding,

glandular control
and proper training

in our rearing centers.

- The mothers never see
them again, of course.

- They're much too
busy having others.

In any case, they're
quite incompetent

to rear a child, even
if they have the desire,

which I assure you, they don't.

We have evolved a
four-class system,

offering security and
fulfillment on all levels.

The doctors, the educated
class, in command.

The mothers, the
servitors and the worker--

- Ants!

The ant nest!

You've taken that
for your model!

- And why not?

It's one of the most
enduring patterns

that nature has evolved.

Do you know the
selection of the system

was inspired by a book,
which at that time

was not yet prohibited?

The Bible.

There was a proverb
that went something like

go to the ant, thou
sluggard, consider her ways.

Why are you crying, my dear?

- I'm crying for all you've lost

if this is true.

- You present us with
a problem, Orcus.

- I can imagine.

- The other mothers are
unlikely to be infected

with your reactionism,
though you have

disgusted and bewildered
them considerably.

To others less stable
than the mothers,

your influence might
be more serious.

- We do not blame you, Orcus.

- We recognize that
you could never

adapt to the placid acceptance

expected of a mother.

- I'd rather die.

- That, in a sense,
is what we propose.

Nothing painful or violent.

- But what?

- An hypnotic treatment in depth

that will remove all memory.

- Nothing painful?

A slight case of suicide,

that's what you're asking
me to do, commit suicide!

My mind is my memories.

They are one!

They're me!

- Exactly.

They are alien and
hostile to our society.

They must go.

- Well, why don't
you just kill me?

Without my memories, I'd be
as dead as if you did kill me.

- We prefer this method.

You're a good mother,

therefore, you're
valuable to society.

- Don't you understand
what I'm trying to say?

Do you think I want
to go on like this?

- Look, Orcus, the
hypnotic treatment

would take your
complete cooperation.

But we are prepared to use
other methods if we have to.

Drug-induced amnesia
would simplify

matters for us all!

- It's for the best, Orcus.

Now, Doctor?

- Yes!

- Ah, ah!

No, no!

Ah, ah, ah!

- Jane.

Dammit, Jane.

Jane.

Jane.
- No.

- Jane.

- No!

Ugh!

- Easy.

Easy.

It's only a reaction.

You'll shake it off
in a minute or two.

- Oh, oh, thank God.

Oh, thank God!

I have a feeling.

I have a terrible feeling
that it really did happen.

Or that it will happen someday.

- Yes, I gather you had
quite an experience.

You got pretty vocal there
every once in a while.

You know you were
under nearly two hours?

That synthesized stuff
packs quite a wallop.

It's gonna call for
very careful dosage.

- I hope it's never used.

- Oh, you're just shaken
up for the moment.

How about a drink?

- No, thank you.

- I happen to have a fifth
of very medicinal scotch.

- Oh, well, I will.

Thanks.

- You know, I may have given
you too much of the stuff.

But the way it
looks, when we learn

the proper dosage, this
could be very effective.

Of course, no one person
will react the same way

or have the same
experience you had.

- I hope not.

- Now, how about filling me
in so I can organize my notes,

get a clearer picture
of the hallucination.

- I want to forget it!

I don't think I ever will.

I'll never forget it
as long as I live.

- Well, the best
way to get it out

of your system is
to verbalize it.

Now, can you relate any aspects

of the experience
to actual events?

- It was a nightmare.

- Yes, apparently very well
organized, as nightmares go.

- Yes, very well organized.

- Well, can you place the
experience in time and space,

you know, geography
- No, no,

- and period.
- no, no!

Laura.

Laura could've told me.

- Laura?

- The historian, the old woman.

She was the one who told
me about Dr. Perrigan.

- Perrigan?

Wait a minute.

Hey, you mentioned him.

- Do you know him?

- No, I never heard
of him until you mumbled

his name a few times
while you were under.

- Suppose there really
were a biologist

by the name of Perrigan.

- Well?

- Then it would prove that it
wasn't just an hallucination.

- Oh, Jane.

- Do you have a Directory
of American Scientists?

- Yes, right there on the desk.

You don't think you're...

- Perrault, Perrier, Perrigan,

Robert J. Ph.D., DSC,
Northwestern '35.

Research professor of biology,

Rochester School of Medicine.

Associate professor
bacteriology and public health,

Kansas University
School of Medicine.

Research professor of
virology, Northwestern.

- Author, "Pest Control
and Public Health:

"New Aspects of Virology
in Pest Control."

- My babies, seventh generation.

What I'm doing is evolving
new strains of myxomatosis.

It's a tricky and unstable bug

but very effective if
you can control it.

I'm planning a group
that will attack rats,

specifically the brown rat.

A pretty serious problem one
way and another, the brown rat.

Does a lotta damage.

You know they outnumber humans

in most cities of any size?

- Suppose that in
ridding a society

of a pest that it has got
along with for centuries

you also destroyed society?

- Sort of throwing the baby
out with the bathwater, hmm?

- Or the operation
was successful

but the patient died
might also apply.

- Destroyed society?

Where did you get
an outlandish idea

like that, young lady?

- Just how stable
and selective is your

group of Myxomatosis,
Dr. Perrigan?

- Precisely what I'm
working on, Doctor.

That's what this is all about,

producing a strain stable
and selective enough

for worldwide public health use.

Now, what exactly is your
interest in this project?

- To have you abandon it.

- I can
go along with a joke

as much as the next
man, Dr. Waterleigh,

but I'm busy, very busy!

- This is no joke, Doctor.

Please believe me.

- Then maybe you'd care
to explain, briefly.

- Has it every occurred
to you what might

happen if your highly
selective virus mutated?

It occurs with other
viruses all the time.

Why not this one?

You yourself admit that the
virus is tricky and virulent.

- I am not on the
stand, Dr. Waterleigh,

and that was not an admission.

It was a statement
of scientific fact!

- I'm sorry, Doctor.

My point was that you recognize

the virulence of myxomatosis.

I don't see how
you could ignore it

after it killed the
entire rabbit population

of Australia and
England and then spread

to wildlife all over Europe!

I repeat, suppose your
highly selective strain

mutated and spread to man?

- Suppose the men at
Los Alamos had quit

for fear the chain reaction
went out of control?

- It might have been better!

- What kind of nonsense is that?

If you'll excuse me,
Doctor, I have work to do.

Good day!

- Are you sure you won't
consider abandoning

your work with this virus?

- I certainly will not!

You must be out of your mind!

Now, get out!

- Mr. Wilding.

- Hello, Doctor,
I'm sorry I'm late.

I had some depositions.

- How is Jane bearing up?

- Oh, very well,
as you will see.

Too well, as a matter
of fact, for my taste.

- Has she agreed
to plead insanity?

- No, that's why I
asked you to come today.

If anybody could
persuade her it's you.

Believe me, Doctor,
it's our only chance.

- I did my best already,

but she wouldn't
listen as you know.

- The trial date is closer.

She's been in jail two months

since you last saw her.

Martyrdom, the prospect
of spending the rest

of her life in a penitentiary
may look quite different.

- She will get life?

- I'd be glad to get her
off with a life sentence

if she refuses an insanity plea.

This is first degree
murder, Doctor.

- I'll never stop
blaming myself for this,

for giving her that
shot of sonodrine.

I never thought it could have
such dangerous aftereffects.

- Do you really
think that that was

at the bottom of
all this, Doctor?

- You read the
transcript of my notes.

- I asked you what you thought.

- What difference does
it make what I think?

- You're gonna testify!

- Jane is not the
kind of a woman

who would go out
and murder a man

she doesn't know for
no reason at all.

- No normal woman would, Doctor.

- You're right, of course.

Personally, I'm
quite sure that Jane

became so confused by
this drug that she,

she was unable to distinguish
between the actual

and the hypothetical.

She believed that
that hallucination

was real and acted accordingly.

And in that belief,
I can see why

she would feel
perfectly justified

in doing a murder, be
willing to die for it.

- Hello, Doctor.

- How are you, Jane?

- No complaints.

Thank you, Doctor.

I have a feeling that
I'm being ganged up on.

- You might say
that, Dr. Waterleigh.

- It's for your own good, Jane.

- You want me to plead insanity?

- Yes.

- I can't do it.

I've thought about it,
but I cannot do it.

You understand that, don't you?

About all I've got now
that really matters to me

is a sort of integrity,

the knowledge that
what I did was right.

That it had to be done.

- Had to be done only if your
hallucination was reality

and not just what I hope to
convince the jury it was,

an insane delusion
caused by the injection

of a powerful
experimental narcotic!

- I don't wish you
to convince the jury

of any such thing, Mr. Wilding.

If what I related to Dr. Hellyer

was only a delusion,
than I am insane,

because I am still
convinced it was real.

Real in the sense that I

actually lived through
what I described.

I know it!

I know it as well
as I'm standing

in this room with you.

The proof is Dr. Perrigan.

Is that the transcript
of Dr. Hellyer's notes?

- That's right.

- Well, check it!

You'll see that the
name of Dr. Perrigan

was mentioned to me by
the old lady, by Laura,

and a description of his work!

I had never heard his
name before in his life,

and I knew nothing of his work.

It was completely
outside my field,

as Dr. Hellyer will confirm.

- Are you saying
what you experienced

out of that drug was
not an hallucination

but some sort of preview
of an inevitable,

predestined future?

- Inevitable?

Oh, no, obviously
not, Mr. Wilding.

Otherwise, nothing I
nor anyone else did

could change it.

My killing of Dr. Perrigan
would just be pointless murder.

- What do you think your dream

or hallucination or
whatever while you were

under the influence of the
drug represented, Jane?

- I believe that
what has happened,

that what is happening now,

determines our future!

Therefore, there must be a
number of possible futures,

each one a possible
consequence of what

is being done now.

I believe that under sonodrine,
I saw one of those futures,

had a warning of
what might happen

unless it was prevented.

I prevented it, Mr.
Wilding, and I'm glad.

I knew what I was doing.

In killing Dr. Perrigan,
I achieved a purpose,

and I'm prepared to pay
for it with my life.

A small price to
pay for avoiding

that future world I saw.

- Dr. Waterleigh, I don't
doubt that you believe

what you did, but
I have some doubt

as to whether you
achieved your purpose.

- What does that mean?

- Your Dr. Perrigan had a son,

and according to my information,

he was very interested
in his father's work

and actually collaborated

on the myxomatosis
research project.

He has announced
his determination

that the achieved results
shall not be wasted,

and he is gonna carry
on with a few specimens

saved from the fire.

The son is a DSC, a biologist,

and his name, of
course, is Perrigan,

Dr. Perrigan.

- I hope you have not been
disturbed by our playlet.

of some over-enthusiastic
feminist.

He keeps getting farther away.

- Congratulations!

You are our one
millionth customer

and have been chosen
for special analysis

and experimentation
under the direction

of our own Dr. Perrigan.

- Until another week
or longer, good night.