Original subtitles

("Alfred Hitchcock" theme music)

- 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.

(phone ringing)

- [Man On Recording] 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.

(machine beeps)

- Dear sir.

Gentlemen.

Mama?

(machine beeps)

- [Man On Recording] 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.

- [Woman] 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.

- [Doctor] 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?

- [Nurse] 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?

- [Nurse] To take you home, naturally.

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

- Uh!

Uh!

Uh.

- Doctor!

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.

(fingers snap)

(tense music)

(light music)

(fingers snapping)

- Welcome, Mother Orcus.

(fingers snap)

Do you think you can walk, Mother?

- Of course.

(fingers snap)

(surprised music)

- [Attendant] Mother Orcus, dear,

now, now, what's the matter?

- Ugh!

Ah!

- Hello, Orcus.

What's the matter, honey?

Did you have a bad time?

- [Orcus] Ah.

(fingers snapping)

- There you are, dear, safe home again.

(fingers snapping)

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.

- [Orcus] 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? (chuckles)

- 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?

(tense music)

- When a woman loves a man.

- What's a man?

- Pleasure time, mothers!

(Hazel giggles)

- 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.

(fingers snap)

- 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.

- [Woman] Well?

- It's Mother Orcus, Doctor.

She's been behaving strangely since she

got back this morning.

(doctor sighs)

- 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.

- [Doctor] 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.

(somber music)

(tense music)

(door clangs)

- 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

(Orcus sighs)

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.

- [Doctor] 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.

- [Doctor] 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.

(gentle music)

- 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?

- [Orcus] All of the, everywhere?

- [Laura] 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.

(gentle music)

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!

(hypnotic music)

- Ah, ah!

No, no!

(dramatic music)

Ah, ah, ah!

(Jane screaming)

- 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.

(dramatic music)

(gentle music)

Or that it will happen someday.

(gentle music)

- 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?

- [Jane] 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?

- [Hellyer] 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.

- (chuckles) 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."

(rats squeaking)

- 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.

- (chuckles) 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!

(gun fires)

(dramatic music)

(door opens)

- 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.

(door opens)

- 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,

(suspenseful music)

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.

- [Man On Recording] 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.