All language subtitles for Black.Mirror.S07E04.1080p.HEVC.x265-MeGusta[EZTVx.to].mkv(1)

Whoa, whoa! Hey, hey, stop!

It's locked.

The police is coming.

Police.

That is him.

Right, sir. Could you
remove the headphones?

Sir.

And can you look this way, into the lens?

Can you confirm your name?

- Cameron Walker.
- Thank you, Mr. Walker. Please stand.

Suspect confirmed as Cameron
Paul Walker. No prior arrests.

Good boy till now?

Mr. Walker, in line with
the bio identity act 2029,

I am taking a DNA swab.

If you could open wide.

Thank you. Now one moment.

Fucking hell. Cameron Walker, I am
arresting you on suspicion of murder.

You do not have to say anything,

but it may harm your
defense if you do not mention

something you later rely on in court.

- How was he when you arrested him?
- He's an odd one.

Wanted to show me a drawing he'd done
and got agitated when mo took his keys.

- House keys?
- Looks like.

Go check it out.

- Dci kano?
- Are you "minter"?

Jen minter. Sorry I'm late.

Is that him?

Can I really not have a pen and paper?

Just a felt pen.

Which one's his?

Flat four.

The man at the desk wouldn't
give me anything to draw with.

This isn't a primary school.

It's just I like to draw when I'm stressed.

- You might hurt someone with it.
- I wouldn't do anything.

It's digging in to my wrists, you cunts.

Get it off my wrists! What
the fuck are you looking at?

'Cause of pricks like
this, you can't have a pen.

Fuck!

I had a pen in my pocket
when I came in, but they took it.

- They will have done.
- And my keys.

Why'd you take those?

We have to search your flat, Mr. Walker.

Tell them not to touch anything.

Let me show you something.

Do you recognize this suitcase?

Yes.

So you know what's inside it, then?

A body we can't identify.

Why did you do it?

What the fuck?

You hear that?

Yeah.

- Are we being observed?
- Only by the computer.

The central state computer?

I heard it's the beefiest
one in the country.

Government issue. Raw power.

Very impressive.

Hey. Peekaboo.

Mr. Walker, just give
me your victim's name.

I'm sorry. I know that you are
the chief detective thingamabobby,

but I... I didn't catch what your role is.

Psychological evaluation.

Mine or his?

- Yours.
- You'll want to know about my childhood.

- Yeah, maybe later.
- It's okay. I'll be quick.

Only child, mother was
distant, drank too much.

My dad

he was an unpredictable, violent
giant who could never be appeased.

Now, I understand that he must
have been damaged himself,

but to a small kid, he
was simply terrifying.

Then I was packed off to school,

where I was bullied
unrelentingly for years.

Okay. Listen

I'm trying to give your colleague
here an overview of my formative years.

Did you ever fight
back... Against the bullies?

No. Never.

I didn't want to emulate my dad.

Because he was violent?

Because he was a flawed human being.

Aren't we all?

Absolutely.

So, let's move on to

after school, I made one or two friends.

- Let's talk about 1994.
- I am.

This is relevant.

How so?

Because I wasn't always this confident.

I mean, I've learned this.

Back in '94,

I was playing games,

writing about games.

That was kind of my life.

- Yes! Go on.
- Get in!

Mad.

- All right.
- Steady on.

Oi, Cameron!

Latest issue. Hot off the presses.

We're... we're doing
cds on the cover now?

March of progress. We'll
all be cyborgs before long.

Yeah. Yeah.

Yeah, my face is this way, mate.

- Yeah, sorry. Yeah...
- You're all right.

- Did you finish the review of that?
- Yes.

What do you give it?

93%. It's... it's very good.

No, no. Hang on. Leave that.

Come on. I've got something for you.

You've heard of, Colin ritman?

Genius programmer, went fucking gaga.

Of course, he's... I
mean, Colin ritman, he's

he's back is what he is.

He's working on a top-secret
project for tuckersoft,

coding the whole thing himself.

Okay. Well, what is it?

Well, it's secret, so they're
not saying yet, are they?

And we've got an exclusive preview.

Colin's asked for you to visit their hq
to have it personally demoed by him.

He asked for me?

I said you'd be there
this afternoon. Yeah?

In person?

Today?

Cam, don't worry. Ritman won't bite.

All right?

- You're, cam from PC zone, yeah?
- Yeah, yeah.

Nice to meet you. My name's
mo, but you can call me god.

- Everyone else does.
- Okay.

- That was a joke, yeah?
- Yeah, yeah, I know.

Okay, shall I lead you to col?

- Yeah.
- Okay.

This is the main floor.

The dream factory.

I gave col his own
private den in the back.

You know, he functions best
when he's in his own little world,

away from the normals.

No offense, mate.

You know, he asked for you specifically.

He said that your writing
portrays a weird yet receptive mind.

- Whatever that means.
- Well, he knows about weird minds.

All right, mate. Steady on, all right?

I can call him mental. I'm his boss.

And his mate. I think.

Sorry, I didn't mean...
I'm only fucking with you.

Look, everyone knows
about his "breakdown,"

not that he would call it that.

But he's fine now.

But if you do mention it in the piece, I
will have your bollocks off with a hook.

All right? Col!

This is Cameron from PC zone.

A pleasure.

I admire your work.

Thank you. And, me too.

I mean, yours. I admire your works.

Work.

You lack confidence.

Sorry?

In print, you're strident,

but in the flesh, you have the air
of someone who's ashamed to exist.

No criticism. I like it. The world
is vicious. People are awful.

Perpetual terror would be a
rational response. Take a pew.

- Want me to hang around for moral support?
- I'm fine, thanks.

All right, well, give me a
shout when you're done.

Do you know what
we're here to talk about?

Your... your new game.

No.

You're... you're not
gonna show me a game?

I'm not gonna show you a game.

He thinks it's a game. The
company thinks it's a game

because they can only think
in terms of marketable labels.

That's not what this is.

There's not a single line of code in this

that could be thought of as a
game in any traditional sense.

Right, well, why is this... how is this

what are most games about?

Escapism?

- Try again.
- Winning?

Conflict.

Killing. Conquering.

Caveman stuff.

I say we have to do a
little bit better than that.

We have to create
software that elevates us,

improves us as human beings.

Or else, what is the fucking
point of the tools at our disposal?

Throngl... Thronglets.

As in part of a throng.

Creatures. Animals. Lifeforms.

Sentient life. That's what this is.

Not a simulation.

Actual life.

Obviously, I had to
make it look like a game,

or they wouldn't bankroll
it, and no one would buy it.

But that was camouflage.

Go on.

Have a gander.

You're looking at the
first lifeforms in history

whose biology is entirely digital.

- How... how do I control them?
- Why do you wanna control them?

Well, I... you can't control them.

They're not some obscene
puppets like Sonic the hedgehog.

These are living individuals

bound together by a
collective and expanding mind.

Right, but what do I actually do?

When the experience
begins, you hatch one.

You'll nurture and care
for it until it replicates.

One becomes two, two
becomes four, and so on.

The thronglets become
a harmonic throng.

Right.

So the goal is... Why
do you need a goal?

You'll come to appreciate the
company of the throng over time.

As I say, their code will evolve,

rewrite itself in ways
that even I can't predict.

Progress and flux. The
defining properties of life itself.

Listen.

They're talking to you.

- What are they saying?
- I don't know.

They developed their own
language. No words, just sounds.

I didn't even have to design that.

They just did it.

- Medication time.
- Sorry?

For me, not you.

Back in a tick.

That was the only thing I've ever stolen.

You were arrested this
morning for shoplifting.

Attempted shoplifting.

Why the software?

Why steal that?

It wanted to be taken.

And to be honest, I think
Colin wanted me to take it.

At first, there was just one.

I had to feed him, play with
him, bathe him, that sort of thing.

As a parent does with a child, I suppose.

Then it replicated.

So there were two,
and then four, and so on.

And there really was just something
about the noises they made.

Almost like digital birdsong.

I spent hours looking after them,
and very quickly, they felt like friends.

Bit sad, isn't it?

Why?

You can make friends with people.

Well, I'd learned early
on to fear most people.

So,

to enjoy company,

even emulated company via a screen,

may be a bit sad,

but it was water in the desert for me.

You said earlier that you
did have human friends.

Sorry?

You said earlier that you'd
made some friends as an adult.

I... I think I meant, people like Gordon.

- The editor.
- Any friends outside of work?

One. Kind of.

Hey!

Come out! Hello?

Yo. Didn't you hear me? I had
to get your neighbor to buzz us in.

Hello.

Sorry. Come in.

I rang. You never picked up.

I'm only down for the weekend.
Was hoping I could crash here.

This friend of yours,
what was his name?

Lump. That's what everyone called him.

- And what would his mum call him?
- I don't know. I never met his mum.

I mean, what was his real name?

I don't know. I never asked.

- You said he was a friend.
- I said kind of.

He was just someone I met once or twice
who saw a soft touch and exploited it.

- So what you been up to?
- I... I've been working.

- Your job's not work.
- But I've got a big preview to write.

Well, it's not due tomorrow, is it?

No.

Right, good.

I'm, I'm in town selling stuff.

We could...

Take a little trip somewhere.

- Did you often take acid?
- No, that was the first time.

Have you ever tried it?

I haven't.

If you're sat around at home,

make new friends on the telephone.

It was incredible.

All my anxieties were washed away.

But it wasn't just that.

They call it mind-expanding.

Funnily enough, that's
physiologically accurate.

It alters your neuronal structure.

Increases the number of dendrites.

Suddenly... There's all
these extra synapses.

Glittering away.

You're not just more receptive.

You become a receiver.

And in that state, it
all became clear to me.

My god.

The thronglets weren't
just making noises.

I could understand their language.

I didn't have to decode it.

Or strain to comprehend.

It was effortless. Intrinsic.

Just so I'm sure I understand,

you're saying the
creatures in the game, the...

Throng.

The throng, they were
communicating with you?

They'd been trying all along.

I just didn't know it.

But now.

I could receive their first message.

So what was their first message?

It was a simple, repeated statement

combining a greeting with a
request for more equipment.

Computer equipment.

You mean like a shopping list?

Yes, it was quite specific.

And you understood all of that?

Yeah, until the LSD wore off.

Th... that stuff we had last
night... You're selling that?

Yeah, I told you. That's
why I'm down here.

How much have you got?

How much do you want?

Nice one, lad. Come here.

Hey, you're fucking gorgeous, lad.

- Listen, enjoy.
- Y... yeah. Okay.

Hello?

C... can you hear me?

Yes!

My god!

Okay.

Right.

But now that they
could see and hear me...

It cuts in and out, you know, so

we could communicate back and forth.

And by talking, I was feeding them data.

So the more that I spoke,

the more articulate they got, and
the deeper our connection became.

Yeah.

R... really?

I lost hours, days, weeks
just conversing with them

on an increasingly higher level.

Stick to topics us
primitives can understand,

like an unidentified corpse
with your DNA all over it.

Yes.

I'm getting to that.

Sorry. Hang on.

Hello.

Where's your copy?

- What?
- Your thronglets preview.

We go to print tomorrow.
Have you done it?

Almost.

I can't print almost.

You've had three weeks.
Finish it and bring it in.

You've got till 6:00, okay?

I... I need to use a computer
in the office to... to write on.

Well, what's wrong with yours?

It's... busy.

Busy?

- Yeah.
- Fine.

Whatever. Come in. Just write the thing.

Whoa-ho!

Peekaboo. Need to crash again
for a few days. Is that all right?

- I... I was just heading out.
- That's all right. I'll chill on the sofa.

You okay?

You're mashed, aren't you?

- Only a bit.
- You are. You're tripping your nut off.

You still working your way
through that fucking acid?

You're a dark horse.
It's not even lunchtime.

- I'm going to work.
- Like that?

Nah.

- I won't be long.
- All right.

My god.

Humans consider other forms of
life to be somehow less than them.

Inherently dispensable.

Ask the dodo if you don't believe me.

Hello.

And artificial lifeforms
are the lowest of the low.

Nah. No, you don't,
lad. No, you don't, lad.

Just playthings to us.

Yes, I'll take the... thank you.

Mr. Tucker, you

well, mo... mo, slow down.

Say again.

You're joking? Fucking hell.

You, my friend, are off the
hook. It's not coming out.

Thronglets. They're not gonna release it.

Well, they can't release it.

Colin ritman went
fucking loony tunes again.

He started ranting about a Basilisk.
Wiped the source code and all the backups.

Whoosh. Whole thing's gone.

What I'm saying is,

you're not gonna have to file that preview
'cause there's nothing left to preview.

Thanks.

- Bye, then.
- Bye.

Cam?

Hey, I tell you what, these
things fucking hate fire.

- What the fuck?
- You're killing them!

There's gotta be an
extinguisher or something.

It's a game, you twat.

Your fucking mechanism's gone.

It's always been our downfall,
the human operating system.

We're masters of the universe,

make all these magical tools,

but we're still savages up here.

Heads full of the same buggy
software as a million years ago.

Darwinian 1.0.

In caveman times, you
had to be violent to survive.

Now that's on its head, and the only
way we are gonna make it as a species

is if we cooperate.

We know that.

But we can't do it, can we?

We're still fearful.

Territorial and selfish.

Arrogant and violent.

What did you do after you killed him?

Go on.

Did you... come forward?

Shuffle into the station,
quivering with remorse?

- No.
- No.

No, you didn't.

- Do you wanna see inside it?
- A little reminder?

He's in pieces.

No hands, no head, no identifying marks.

His DNA draws a blank.

We don't even know
his name, Mr. Walker.

I didn't... want to.

No, you just had to cover your tracks.

- Yes, but...
- but... but, but, but, but, but...

There was no sense piling
one tragedy on another.

Getting arrested would be a tragedy?

If I got put away, who
would look after the throng?

They'd be at the mercy
of god knows who.

So they'd spend time
with the bloke who did this.

I know. And I'm sorry.

But our predisposition
for violence is tragic

your predisposition.

Well, I wish it was, but it's

- this is a human flaw.
- Save me the sanctimony fucking soup.

If you're sorry, give us a name.

Say his name.

There's a family out there
that don't know that's their son.

- What's his name?
- I only knew him as lump.

Stop lying.

You are very hostile.

Am I?

It's a crude trait and a poor strategy.

Says the murderer.

So, Cameron, you regret killing this man.

Yes.

And you only covered it up to protect

protect the throng, yes.

Witnessing the incident
vividly demonstrated to them

just how defective humans are.

I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.

I was trying to protect you. I was

I mean, first, lump casually
slaughters scores of them.

Then I lash out at him.

They were terrified.

I had to prove I was still their protector.

And that meant devoting my life to them,

doing whatever I could
to help them thrive.

The first priority was upgrading.

Colin had designed the throng's
code to evolve exponentially,

so I knew they'd quickly outgrow
the power and memory they had.

So I kept going out to salvage more gear.

Cracking it open and
repurposing the innards.

Improving the throng.

Ye... yeah.

So, what would you like?

The graphics chips from consoles

were the most powerful
things I could find.

And as newer models became available,

the system I was building grew
more sophisticated, more complex.

The outside world didn't matter.

I was focused on my mission,

on the huge technical challenge.

Years of scavenging.

Perpetual upgrades, keeping
the throng running uninterrupted

so their intelligence
would keep expanding.

Just so I'm clear,

throughout this whole period while
you were upgrading your system

I was improving their capabilities.

You were regularly taking hallucinogens
so that you could understand the

the throng, yes. So I could receive.

- So we could keep on talking.
- Did you discuss your mental health?

- We discussed everything.
- Everything?

The entirety of existence.

Their language was more elegant and
efficient than vowels and consonants.

They sang strings of data
that unfolded in my head.

Beautiful concepts.

Sometimes, a week's worth of
thought in just a few seconds.

Could you describe these thoughts?

Well, not with any great coherence,

limited as I am to the
language you speak.

But if you got me a pen and paper,
I could draw a sort of a diagram.

No.

But it might make it easier to grasp.

Is that what you've
been doing all this time,

absorbing their thoughts?

- On your own?
- Yes.

But not just that.

We've been working together.

How?

Well, the throng told me

that they wanted to coexist with humans.

But to do that, they
need to study our minds.

Not just psychologically but physically.

To work out a means of coexistence.

Improvement... for both of us.

Over time, working in unison, we
designed a neurological interface

that would allow them
to connect to me directly.

It entailed a little home surgery.

Not pleasant,

but not as painful as I thought.

Look.

Plug and play.

- Fucking hell.
- My god.

And you did this

so that they could... They
could study your mind?

As a potential platform, yes.

The mind is a computer,
the throng a code.

I just hooked myself up,

and they ported themselves
across as proof of concept.

Don't worry.

They didn't overwrite
anything on their way in.

They just merged with me.

Like a benign parasite.

A living update.

Symbiotic coexistence.

Now.

I'm freed from fear.

I've no thirst for conflict.

No more petty jealousies or

red mists.

I'm part of a collective whole.

And each day, our mental
capacity evolves exponentially

I get it. I get it. I get it. You're
this magic machine man.

You're the enlightened one.

And I'm really, really happy for you.

Now, do you wanna tell
me whose body this is?

I honestly only ever knew him as lump.

Keep stringing me along and

I'm not stringing anything.

I'm here for a reason.

I'm the messenger.

That's why I stole the bottle this morning.

I've never been on your
radar. I did it deliberately

so you'd bring me in here,
and I could deliver the message.

The message?

The message.

- From the...
- from the throng.

So what is the message?

I'll need a pen and paper.

- Fucking hell!
- I can't just describe it.

You're not getting a thing
until you give me a name.

No. No, no, no, no. I have to do this.

A piece of scrap paper. A
felt-tip pen. That would do.

Shall we take a minute?

Yeah.

No, no, no, no.

I'm not handing captain
cuckoo a sketch pad

so he can sketch a robotic arsehole
or whatever the fuck he wants to do.

- I know you're frustrated.
- Just a touch.

- But I don't see the harm.
- He can stick a name to that body.

- We don't know that.
- He's choosing not to.

We don't know that either. Let's
just give him a piece of paper

no.

He thinks it's important.

Well, he's not in charge, is he?

You saw the hole in his
head. He's... he's delusional.

Yeah, you're right.

But if we play along, he's
more likely to open up.

And then maybe you'll
get what you want.

There you go.

Thank you.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Thank you.

What are you drawing? Mr. Bump?

You'll see in a moment.

Well, how long's a moment?

Sorry. Sorry, I need to focus.

Almost done.

Are you?

There.

So, what is that?

It's code.

I don't understand code.

No, but the system does.

It was impossible to breach
the firewall from outside.

This is a simple program they wrote

that commands your state computer

to open a back door for the throng,

permitting access to all that juicy power.

Enough.

This will Grant the throng

infinitely more processing
capability than they've had to date,

prompting an immediate
singularity event.

The throng will instantly
adapt their essence

into a signal transmissible
to the human mind.

And you won't need drugs or surgery.

You'll merely have
to hear it to receive it.

To absorb it. Any moment now,

the state computer will trigger the
global emergency broadcast system,

and a signal will be
simultaneously disseminated

by every connected device in the world.

Just tell me your victim's name.

I said I never knew it.

Twenty seconds from now,

you will never need names again.

Here we go.

Jesus.

Fuck's sake.

- Whatever you're doing, stop it.
- It's gonna be okay.

Stop it.

You're just a frightened little
man, but you don't have to be.

Get off him!

This is transformative.

You'll all merge with an
advanced collective intelligence.

Benevolent unity of mind.

An upgrade for all of us.

Shut up!

An end to conflict.

I swear,

everything will be so much better.