All language subtitles for The.Angry.Red.Planet.1959.1080p.BluRay.x264-OFT

General Treegar.

At 0300 this morning, the
expeditionary X-1 rocket ship,

missing for 61 days,
was sighted by Mount Palomar,

drifting in orbit
some 90,000 miles out in space.

All attempts to establish
radio communication

have failed so far.

We don't know if anyone
is left alive on board.

The MR-1 appears
to be a dead ship.

We've had no contact
with the rocket

since it entered Mars orbit
over two months ago

and reported preparing
to land on the planet.

The ship was believed to have
crashed in the landing attempt.

But she didn't!

Gentlemen, the Mars rocket
must be retrieved

and brought back
to Earth intact!

That's a tall order, George.

I know, but the recording
instruments on that ship

contain priceless information
covering the entire trip.

We must have it.

Professor Weiner,
what are our chances?

They depend
on several factors, general.

The MR-1 is, of course,
equipped with robot control,

which can be activated by
remote triggering from Earth,

if they're operative.

The Nevada base
is alerted to handle it.

- They're on standby.
- Go on, Professor.

If there's enough fuel on board,

we can send the ship homing
for the Nevada base.

If the fuel holds out through
the re-entry deceleration,

we can set her down safely.

Here's another if:

what if there is
someone on board, alive?

Major Ross, has communications
established any contact?

No, sir. None.

It could be radio failure.

Someone must have taken
the ship off Mars.

The unexpected,
remotely-controlled

acceleration of, uh, of...

Five, six Gs.

Five, six Gs could be
dangerous to them,

even fatal!

And how long will they last
if we leave them out there?

Then it's decided.
We take off for Nevada at once.

We're getting it now, sir,
on the radar telescope screen.

There she is.

Good.

Are you ready?

Yes.

Activate!

Attention, please.

Minus one minute.

Repeat. Minus one minute.

Start final countdown.

Tracking, tracking.

Rotary fuel pumps on.

Recording tapes running.

Minus 30 seconds,

minus 30.

Mark!

Main guiding gyros starting.

Running true.

Running true.

Minus 20 seconds,

minus 20.

Remote-control
firing switches...

on!

Ten seconds.

Nine, eight,

seven, six,

five, four,

three, two,

one, fire!

She's off!

Great.
Then there is fuel aboard.

Right! But there's only one
question: how much?

Well done, Professor.

Davis, I want the arrival time
of the ship computed.

Notify me as soon
as you have it.

Yes, sir.

The answers to this
and the many other questions

posed by anxious officials
may come tonight,

when an attempt will be made
to land the Mars rocket ship

at a remote air force
base in Nevada.

There is still
the question of fuel:

does the ship have
enough fuel left

for a safe deceleration?

Or will it burn up
in our atmosphere

like a blazing meteor?

The world waits with suspense
to learn the fate

of the ship's crew of four,

seen here in newsreel shots

prior to the departure
of the MR-1.

Colonel Tom O'Bannion,

united States air force,
the pilot navigator.

Dr. Iris Ryan,
brilliant young authority

on the sciences
of biology and zoology,

daughter of the late
Professor Alfred Ryan.

Professor Theodore Gettell,
the designer of the rocket ship

and the world's
foremost authority

on space and rocketry.

And chief warrant
officer Sam Jacobs,

electronics and radar expert.

The prayers
of a grateful nation tonight

will be offered in the hope
that these four survived

their history-making flight.

- Five minutes more.
- Yeah.

What do you think?
Anyone aboard? Alive, I mean?

- We'll know soon enough.
- Yeah.

Hey, look!

- You know what I think?
- What?

That thing up there,
it's a flying coffin.

Looks good so far.

Colonel Davis, anything on
the distant-radiation counter?

Negative.

Radiation monitors in position.

Radiation monitors, check.

Attention, please.

This is a repeat
of previous instructions.

No one is to approach the ship
unless ordered by Control.

I repeat, no one is to approach
the ship unless so ordered.

Radiation monitors,
proceed to the rocket.

Start your check.

All counts still
in the green zone.

Hull radiation
within safety zone.

Good.

Radiation monitors, stand back.

Recovery squad, move up.

No shielding necessary
to open airlock.

Monitors, stand by to check
interior radiation.

Hold it! Look!

Recovery squad, hold!

Someone's alive.

The girl!

To hell with radiation!
Let's go!

Come on, let's go!

Stretcher bearers!

Aw, come on, Sarge,
give me a break, will ya?

- Who is it?
- Can't see his face.

Hey, what is it, man?

Come on, Iris.

Anything that can be
done for him will be done.

- How can anyone cope with that?

Come on, Dr. Ryan, we'll follow.

I've given him a sedative.
Should keep him quiet.

He's running a high temperature.

Dr. Gordon,
that... that growth...

what are we up against?

- I don't know.
- It's spreading rapidly.

Do you have any idea
what it might be?

No, I haven't yet.

If we only knew how or by what
he was infected, we might know

how to combat the disease,
but we're working in the dark.

What about the tape records?

Has anything been learned
from them?

That's just it.

General Treegar informed me
that there are no records.

No tapes at all?

Yes, many of them.

Marked and filed
from the first day out.

They've examined about half of
them by now, all of them empty.

Nothing on them?

Silent, as though
they'd been erased

by some powerful magnetic force.

Treegar expects
they're all like that.

Then we may never know.

We have one chance: the girl.

She is actually our only hope.

If she could give us a lead...

What is Dr. Ryan's condition?

Exhaustion, shock.
She's resting.

We should be able to talk to her
in a couple of hours.

We have very little time.

I hope she comes through.

Dr. Ryan,
will you talk to us now?

I'll try.

How is he?
Will he be all right?

We're doing everything we can.

What happened to him?

I don't know.

I can't remember.

Iris, a lot will depend
on what you can tell us.

Please, try to remember.

How was he infected?

By what?

I can't...
I can't remember.

Why don't you start
at the beginning?

Tell us everything that happened
from the day you left.

It may help clear your mind.

Yes. Yes, yes, I'll try.

The takeoff was as we expected.

We reached escape velocity,

and Tom cut in the steady
1-G acceleration rockets.

We were all in high spirits
as we finished our flight-check.

It's not much different
from the dry run

in the space-test cabin
on the base, huh?

A lot easier, if you ask me.

No "Eager Treegar" to throw
imaginary problems at us.

That's what the man said, Sam.

"The trip will probably be
boring routine."

Just so you blasé space
travelers don't get too bored,

the radiation count is jumping.

Radioactive meteor?

Looks like it.

Both the radar scope pattern
and the erratic gamma-count fit.

Well, let's double check, hm?

- Visual direct, too.
- Right.

Meteor confirmed.

Intersecting course.

- Safety margin adequate.

I wish my parents
could have seen this.

They spent their lives
making it possible.

Mars, the red planet.

Our destination.

Look, both moons are visible.

Hey, two moons,

what a place for romance, huh?

And songwriters.

♪ Two moons
Da da da da da da da da ♪

Let's close your mouth
and the port guards, huh?

No use getting the view plates
scratched up by meteor dust.

I know, I know, okay, okay!

MR-1 to EB-9.

Come in, please.

Oh, Sam, get it all
on tape, will ya?

I've got it on
the auxiliary tape, sir.

MR-1, this is EB-9. over.

MR-1 to EB-9,

condition A, condition A.

Everything's under control.
Over.

We're still
in our own back yard.

The radio time-lag
is only a few seconds.

Wait till it's a couple
of hours.

Our conversation is going
to be a real drag then.

MR-1, base computations
confirm report.

You are on course, on schedule.

Hey, you look real good
up there. over and out.

Thanks a lot. Over and out.

Good old mother hen watching
over her four little chicks.

We're thousands
of miles out in space.

It's hard to believe.

Yeah, any minute now,
I expect to see

General Treegar come through
that hatch and say, "All right,

enough work for today.

Let's everybody go out to Tony's
and have a little drink."

Well, that would be
a little hard to do.

Tony's is 30,000
miles from here.

Well, we wanna be able
to face reality on our watch.

Come on, Sam.
Let's get some rest, huh?

Okay, Professor, I dig.

It's really happening.

You know, Irish,
reminds me of when I was a kid.

I can just see you.

I remember
when I got my first dog.

I was crazy about that dog.

I wanted him
to sleep in my room,

but my family wouldn't allow it.

I used to go downstairs
a dozen times during the night

to make sure that he was there.

- Then you were sure.
- Uh-huh.

And pretty soon, people will be
just as sure of space travel

as I was of my dog.

And as I'd like to be of you.

Makes Broadway look
like a dark alley.

When we get back, Irish...

how about exploring
that dark alley...

Together?

You, Colonel, sir...

may have a date.

MR-1 to EB-9.

MR-1 to EB-9.

Report 7-9.

Time: 17 days, 1103 hours.

Position:

"Triangle Easy Fox Baker."

On course, on schedule.

Condition A.

Over and out.

Hey, when's chow, huh?

Comin' up. Come on, Tom.

You can help me
with the rations.

I'd rather be carving
a thick steak at Tony's.

Make it medium rare
and I'll join you.

Will you take a rain check?

- If it won't bounce.

Hm. Here we are
between two dots.

We could miss either one of 'em,

and never know it.

Mars rocket one, ration B.

Mars...

the angry red planet.

Sounds so foreboding,
doesn't it?

Mars.

Ancient God of war.

Afraid, Irish?

A little.

Apprehensive, I guess.

Oh, we all are
or we wouldn't be human.

I know this is a funny way
for a scientist to feel, but...

I wonder if some
things aren't better unknown.

That's what they said
on the Santa Maria

before they discovered
the new world.

By mistake.

You know, Irish,

you're the first scientist
I've ever known

with lovely, long red hair.

And you're the first pilot
I've ever gone to Mars with.

And listen,

my name is Iris,

not Irish.

I never know if you're calling
me by name or nationality.

When I call you by name,
you'll know it.

"So Oola ran screaming across
the burning Martian sands

as the monster Ongolur
relentlessly pursued her,

his five arms reaching
hungrily for her.

To be continued next week."

And that was the last issue
before we took off.

Mars...

Martians, monsters.

I wonder if I'll ever
get to see that next issue.

Eb-9 to MR-1.
Report number 7-6.

Orbiting Mars.

Repeat, orbiting Mars.

Landing operation beginning.

Rockets reversing for landing.

Condition A.

Recording tapes running.

Gravity pull, 0.38,
Earth standard.

0.38, E.S.

Speed, 3.1 miles per second.

Deceleration ratio, 17.5.

Atmosphere density
resistance factor, 0-0, 1-2.

Resistance factor, 0-0, 1-2.

Drift, 0.

Drift, 0.

Longitudinal axis, 100 percent.

Longitudinal axis, 100 percent.

Vertical deviation, zero.

Ready automatic braking rockets.

Automatic braking rockets on.

Instrument lights.

Stand by.

Hold onto your hats, kids!
Here we go!

Rockets on!

Well, shall we go out
and claim the planet

in the name of Brooklyn?

Not yet, Sam.
Open the viewports, Tom.

Okay.

Turn on the outside mic, Sam.

Yes, sir.

Strange.

Nothing moves.

Everything seems to be...

waiting.

Shoot anything that moves and
pick up anything that doesn't.

I'm gonna take that advice,
especially on the first count.

Turn up the volume, Sam.

Well, come on, Iris.

Let's get to work
on our tests, huh?

You take the microbe count
and radiation.

I'll work on the atmospheric
composition, temperature.

Keep a sharp lookout, Sammy.

Anything moves, yell.

You know, it's so quiet out
there, if anything does move,

I'm gonna jump
right out of my skin.

Something will.

With all that vegetation
out there,

there's bound
to be something alive.

You mean,
like five-armed Ongolurs?

What?

Don't worry, Sammy.

We O'Bannions are charmed.

Yeah, but maybe us Jacobs ain't?

My dad, when I was a kid,
told me about my grandfather.

He had sort of a sixth sense,

particularly in Indian country.

When there were Indians around,
his ears would begin to twitch.

Runs in the family.

Oh, well, I am reassured,
Colonel, sir.

Only, do me a small favor,
will ya?

If your ears start to twitch,
will you let me know fast?

I'll twitch with you.

- Anything move yet, Sam?
- Not a thing.

Stay here.

Hey!

I told you not to leave
that thing layin' around.

Iris tripped over it.

She dropped
a tray of test tubes.

- Boy, I'm sorry, Colonel.
- Aw, that's all right, Sammy.

No surprises, Tom.

The atmosphere is pretty much
like we thought:

thin, extremely thin.

Not enough oxygen to sustain us,
but undoubtedly enough

for some kind
of native animal life.

Well, like you said, Professor,
no surprises.

You seen anything yet, Sam?

Just those frozen vegetables.

Any sounds?

Not a peep.

If those Martians are out there,
they must be invisible.

No movement at all.

"Weirdsville,"
as my grandmother used to say.

Keep your eyes open, huh?

Yes, sir.

We've landed
near the Equatorial belt.

Now, if there is any native
intelligence around here,

it should be in this area.

I think you must be right.

Sorry about the sound effects.

Aw, forget it, Irish.

This crazy silence and lack
of movement's gotten us all.

It doesn't make
any sense, Sammy.

Something has got to move.

- What's the matter? Ears twitch?
- Aw, just a hunch.

Yeah? What?

I know there's
something out there.

Sure, like the invisible
Martian?

Are you certain
the outside mics are on, Sam?

Full volume.

You know,
the atmosphere is very rare.

It wouldn't conduct
sound too well.

Of course.

That might also explain
why the plants don't move.

No breeze.

I wonder...

Could it be...

intentional?

Intentional?

I know it sounds unreasonable,

but it just doesn't
seem natural.

You mean, you think
it's controlled?

What beings could possibly
exercise such fantastic control?

Well, there's one way to find
out. I'm going out there.

- Tom, wait, I don't...
- No, no, we'll all go.

It's about time Iris and I
had a chance to use

some of this expensive
lab equipment of ours.

All right. Get your suits.

You know something, Professor?

First time in my life
I've ever really been scared.

There's nothin' out there except
a bunch of crazy plants.

It takes a brave man
to admit his fears, Sam.

We're all afraid of the unknown.

Yeah.

Yeah.

- You okay, Irish?
- Mm-hmm.

I'm actually looking forward
to start to work.

You know,
I can't say that I recommend

space suits
for beautiful young dolls.

What happened
to all your lovely curves?

No, Sammy.

Some of the creations I've seen
in New York store windows

didn't look too much better.

I'm convinced that all fashion
designers are woman-haters.

Dr. Ryan, what is it?
What happened?

I don't know.

I can't remember.

All I know is it was horrible.

All right,

all right.

You rest now,
and we'll talk to you later.

Nurse, Sodium Luminol,
two and a half grains.

Yes, doctor. Intravenous?

Yes.

She's obviously had
a tremendous shock.

She has a mental block.

Her mind refuses
to remember something.

You noticed her memory
is already beginning to take on

a quality of unreality.

We must know what happened.

A man's life, perhaps
more, depends on it.

I know. Suppose this alien
infection spreads to all of us.

Every moment counts.

What about the tapes?
Any result?

We've gone through
nearly all of them. Empty.

Dr. Ryan must remember.

What about narcosynthesis?

Well, it's our only hope.

But she's pretty weak.

She ought to get some rest
before we use drugs.

Her mind might snap
if we forced her

to remember the horror

she has so carefully obliterated
from her conscious level.

Would she be able to remember
what actually happened?

She'll be able to remember
anything familiar normally.

Although, when we
penetrate her mind block

into her suppressed memories,
her recall will be undoubtedly

colored by her mind's
own interpretation

of what she experienced.

In effect, whenever
she's remembering

anything that was alien,
frightening to her,

we'll see it as her mind saw it.

Exactly.

And remember, her mind had
to save itself by forgetting.

Dr. Gordon.

How is he?

Is he getting worse?

I'm afraid so.

We don't know what it is
we're fighting, Iris.

And I'm the only one
who can help you,

by remembering.

There is a way you can force me
to remember, isn't there?

There is.

Then use it.

Dr. Ryan,
you've had quite an ordeal.

You need to build up
your strength. You need rest.

The shock of forced
memory recall

under the influence of drugs
can be dangerous for you.

And how long can he wait?

Please, Dr. Gordon.

Ah.

What is it, Irish?

The port outside.

Tom, it was horrible.

Stay with her, Sammy.

- There's nothing there, Irish.
- But I saw it!

What did you see?

It was like a huge,
distorted face, with...

with three bulging eyes.

But there's nothing there now.

I tell you, it was there!

Hey, three eyes!
What a crazy Peepin' Tom, huh?

It was staring right at me.

There's nothing moving.
There's nothing there.

You don't believe me, do you?

Hey, everybody.

With this waitin', it's a wonder
I didn't get to see the thing.

I did see it, Sam, I really did.

Please, couldn't you just
make believe you didn't?

I'd be much less scared.

If that thing is out there, we
won't find out about it in here.

You're so right. Let's go out
and take a look, Gettell.

Irish, you stay here with Sammy.

Not on your life,
Colonel O'Bannion!

I'm going, too!

Well, hey, wait for me!

Check your oxygen gauge.

Okay.

Now, this'll be S.O.P.

Even though these intercoms
carry for miles,

I want you to always
stay in sight of me.

Sam, your ultra-sonic freeze
gun hooked up alright?

- Yes, sir.
- Why don't we check it?

That plant over there.

All right, huh?

Yeah!

Very all right. wow!

The pickup mics are on, Tom.
I heard it shatter.

- What about you?
- Yes, it checks.

Loud and clear, four-by-four.

All right, let's go and see
what's in that jungle.

Come on, Irish.

Wait a minute. I won't be long.

It's amazing.

Just let me make
a preliminary examination.

If you ask me,
I think we oughta make

a preliminary examination
for Martians.

We can stay here for a while.

You cover that side
and I'll stay here, Sammy.

Okay.

Fantastic.

All the characteristics
of plant life,

but hardly any chlorophyll.

And there seem to
be indications of...

of a nervous system.

- Nervous system?
- Well, it looks like it.

Of course, I'll have to make
some more specific tests.

What about the minerals?

I haven't found anything
yet to contradict the theory

that the basic matter throughout
the universe is the same.

But, I have run across some most
unusual chemical combinations.

These vines
are almost like fingers.

Where are you going, Irish?

I'm tracing this vine.

I'm curious to see where it
comes from.

- You'd better stick close to me.
- Oh, Tom, really!

I know you think I acted like an
hysterical female at the ship.

I'm perfectly capable
of taking care of myself.

I won't get out of your sight.

Have it your way, Irish.

Tom! Tom!

Tom!

Tom!

Tom!

Tom!

Tom!

Now, Sam! Get it!

You all right, Irish?

I think so.

Just let me count to ten.

Count to 100 if you like.

I'm all right now.

Hey, what was that thing?

It's a giant
carnivorous plant, Sam.

It feeds by trapping animals
and digesting them, live.

Lotsa luck.

Here, come on, take a look.

If it weren't for you and Tom,
that could've been me.

Well, at least we know there's
animal life up here, huh?

Now he tells me.

It's remarkable.

You were right, Iris.

This is more than just a plant.

It's a low form of
neuromuscular vegetal creature.

What do you say we call it a day
and go back to the ship?

I agree.

We've had enough excitement and
swashbuckling for one day, hmm?

I'm for that.

Any "swash" I ever had
just came unbuckled.

Let's go.

I'm sure glad the boys in
ordnance developed you, baby.

I think I'll call ya Cleopatra,

'cause you're such a cool doll.

And believe me, Cleo,
you and I will never part.

Never.

Here, Sammy,
for your scrap book.

Hey, what a handsome couple.

Look, Colonel,
me and my new pinup.

There must be other
creatures around.

You better take
care of that thing.

You never know
what else we'll find.

Or what'll find us.

Oh well, chin up,
Sammy boy, Chin up.

You know, Sam, there's only
a little bit of difference

between keeping your chin up

and sticking your neck out.

Colonel, sir,
I, for one, know it...

now.

Was that thing
really trying to kill Iris?

It wasn't
just a friendly embrace.

But why weren't
we attacked before?

We all passed that...
that plant creature.

What are you driving at,
Professor?

Well, I can't help feeling
that we're being watched.

That there is some purpose
behind it all.

What's the matter, Professor?
Your ears twitch, too?

Obviously,
there is animal life here,

probably intelligent
life as well.

And yet, we haven't seen any.

Now, this quiet,

this lack of motion...

oh, you still think it's...

intentional, controlled.

Well, I... I don't know.

But why?

Perhaps, in a way,
we're being controlled, too,

through the actions
of these lower life forms,

kept harmless, so to speak.

What could control
all life here?

It could be some
super-intelligent

community mind, I suppose.

- Community mind?
- Yes.

Like the inexplicable,
mysterious control which keeps

a colony of ants functioning
in perfect unity back on Earth.

I got news for you, Professor.

I'll take the ants any day.

Well, we have four days
left to find out.

Isn't your Earth contact
a little late, Sammy?

Yeah, it is.
Over an hour late.

- Try your equipment.

It's not equipment failure.
I get nothin' but dead air.

Hmm.

Keep your line open
and try transmitting.

This is MR-1

and this is a test transmission.

It's no use. Our signal keeps
bouncing back at us.

I can't get through.

There must be some ionized layer
in the Martian atmosphere,

keeping those radio waves
from going through.

Yeah, and keeping Earth's
reports from reaching us.

I never heard of anything that'd
stop the frequencies I'm using.

Well, you're hearing
about it now.

Keep taping our reports, Sammy.

We're going to stay here
the full five days,

even if it means
no contact with Earth.

Jumpy, Irish?

Afraid so, a little.

Hmm. See anything?

Nothing.

Everything seems
to be dead out there.

It's like a nightmare
of unending silence.

I know. We all feel it.

Then it isn't just me,
because I'm a woman?

Oh.

Women don't have
any monopoly on fear.

Men are more afraid
of being called cowards.

Cowardice is one thing I guess
we can never forgive ourselves.

Look, the sun's rising.

Yeah.

Looks sort of angry.

All right, everybody,
come and get it!

Breakfast's ready!

Hot coffee,
hard tack and vitamin pills!

We'll head off
in that direction.

Now, remember, stay together.

Come on, Irish.

This certainly looks different.

Look! Those trees over there!
They look different, too.

Yeah, like nothing we've seen.

Let's take a closer look
at them.

Okay. Sam and Gettell,
you stay here.

Keep Cleo handy.

I'll go with you.

Doesn't look like bark.

Let me have your machete, Tom.

Here.

- Oh, it's alive!

Look out, Professor!

- Look out, Professor!

Colonel!
I'm givin' her all she's got!

She won't move her!

Cleo isn't budging her!

Stay here.

Aim for the eyes, Sam!
Blind it!

Get it!

- Are you all right?
- Yes, give me a moment.

Are you hurt?

No, no, Iris.
I'll be all right.

No bones broken.
Just bruised a bit.

Boy, some playmate.
King Kong's big brother.

Even Cleo only gave it
a slight chill.

Must be about 40 feet high.

Come on,
let's get back to the ship.

Oh, no, no, no. Wait, Iris.

We don't have much time
for exploring as it is.

We mustn't lose more
of it on account of me.

It's too important.
I'll be fine.

I've been curious as to what's
on the other side of that ridge.

Let's go.

Now there it is,

a Martian lake.

It has that same
feeling of deadness.

Yeah.

No, wait a minute, Iris.

It's all right.

No abnormal radiation.

So there's water
on Mars after all.

Besides the polar
icecaps, I mean.

If it is water.

Well, it feels kind of oily.

Seems... seems heavier
than ordinary water.

It probably has an entirely
different mineral content.

I'm sure it couldn't
sustain life,

at least not life as we know it.

I wonder what's
on the other side?

Well, tomorrow
we'll bring the boat.

The lake isn't so wide.
We'll have a look.

It's getting late.

We meet any more creatures
like that last one,

I'd hate to have
to fight 'em in the dark.

Come on.

Some baby, that rat-bat-spider
nightmare, huh?

Walked away from Cleo
and even after Cleo turned on

all her charms, too.

At least she scared it away.

Yeah, good girl, that Cleo, huh?

Hey, you know the only
thing that bothers me?

Someday, maybe she'll meet
a monster that'll ignore her,

break her heart.

Mine, too.

Irish,

Sam, the Professor and I
have come to a decision.

Yes, in view of everything,
we've decided

not to stay the full five days.

- Huh?
- We're gonna take off tonight.

- Tonight?
- Mm-hmm.

Sam, prepare the panel
for take-off, will you?

- Yes, sir.
- But why?

Well, Iris, it's probably
mostly because of me.

You see, I can't seem to get
it out of my head

that there is an even greater
danger here than we realize.

The controlling force?

Yes.

My orders from General Treegar

were to take
no unnecessary chances.

We've fulfilled our mission.
We've landed on Mars.

Mm-hm. And we've collected
a lot of information,

plenty to prepare
for the next expedition.

Now prepare for blastoff.
Strap in.

Gettell, close the ports.

Right.

Instrument lights.

Minus 15 seconds. Mark!

Main firing switches, on.

Minus ten, nine,

eight, seven, six, five,

four, three,

two, one, fire!

What is it, Tom?

We can save our fuel.

We're not going anywhere.

Look, every pin
is glued to the top.

We're in some sort
of a force field,

tremendously powerful,

holding us right here.

The control.

Whoever they are,
they don't want us to leave.

Why don't they come out
in the open, whoever they are?

This waiting,

uncertainty,

not knowing...

Why are they keeping us here?

What do they want with us?

What are we? Guinea pigs?

Take it easy, Irish, easy.

Now, think a minute.

They can't really
want to harm us.

If they did, they could've
destroyed us a long time ago.

They must have another reason
for keeping us here.

Tom, I've run a few tests.

Now, we're being held by
a gravitational pull so strong,

it would take 100 times the
thrust we have to break free.

I wonder. will we ever
get back to Earth again?

Well, we're not gonna wait.

Sam, break out the boat.

We'll see
what's across that lake.

Didn't we calculate
that the other shore

was just over the horizon?

We did.

Well, then,
we should see it quite soon.

I don't like this place.

I'm with you.

Why?

It's so dead.

Well, it's better than that
walkin' forest we just ran into.

Tom, take a look at this.

What do you make of it?

Now we're getting somewhere.

Those buildings didn't
just grow. They were made.

Let's get closer.

Yeah, I want to get
one of those Martian girls.

We thought we had it made.

How tall are those buildings?

Why, at least half
a mile, I'd say.

Oh, look at that!

Iris, Gettell,
get back to the ship.

Sam, try Cleo again.

Yeah, right.

Iris!

Close the door!

Hold it!

Close the door.

Sam, he just...

Easy, Irish, easy, huh?

I'll open the view ports.

Look!

Try the screens.

It's all around us.

Tom, your arm.

Part of that creature
touched you.

- Eaten right through the suit.
- Like... like Sam.

You'd better get
out of that suit.

I'll get some niacin compound,
just in case.

Give me that suit, Tom.

We'll put it
in the disposal unit.

Iris... what is your opinion
of that creature?

Well, I'm sure
it's a unicellular animal.

Those two areas inside it
must be the nucleus

and the contractile vacuole.

Now, wait a minute. Whoa. Heh.

- Let me in on it, Irish, huh?
- It's like an amoeba, Tom.

A giant amoeba, one single cell,
without intelligence,

without a nervous system at all.

It reacts completely
on instinct to external stimuli.

Ah, we must be safe in here.

The amoeba engulfs its prey

and digests it
with extremely strong acids.

It's trying to get to us.

It's incredible.

I wouldn't say that, Tom.

Not after what we saw
it do to poor Sam.

Yeah.

It'll take time,

but it probably can eat
right through the ship.

Well, we've got to get
rid of it some way.

But how? It can't even be
touched with anything we have.

You've experimented with amoeba
on Earth. What affects them?

They're almost
impossible to kill.

Even if you cut them
in half, both parts will live.

Now, there's got to be
some way to get at it.

It can encyst, Tom.

That is, secrete and form
a sort of protective envelope.

That's how it withstood
the sonic gun.

Heat, fire.

I could turn on the rocket.

You can't do that, Tom.

With that creature
clogging our thrust chamber

we'd have an internal explosion.

Well, we've got to do something!

I can't think of anything.

Hey, wait a minute.
I do remember.

We experimented
with electricity.

What happened?

Well, the power
from a small flashlight battery

killed thousands of amoeba.

That's it! Electric shock!

I can generate
half a million volts.

But how are you going to get
to it to electrocute it?

You can't go outside,
or even open the airlock.

I won't have to.

But what I have
in mind could backfire.

If you both don't agree,
I won't go through with it.

What is your plan, Tom?

I'll need your help.
Check me out.

This ship
has a double hull, right?

That's correct. The outer hull
acts as a meteor bumper.

And the outer hull is completely
insulated from the inner one?

- Quite effectively.
- Good.

Now, is there any way I can get
to the outer hull from in here?

One place only,

the detector instrument
cable access channel.

I want to feed the radar power
through the outer hull.

Can it be done?

It would
take a lot of rewiring, but,

yes, we can do it.

What I have in mind: feed the
current through the outer hull,

without it spilling back
into the inner one.

What do you think?

And if there is a spill?

Then we won't have to wait for
that thing to eat through to us.

Well, I'm for it.

So am I.

Good. Let's go.

- Almost through.
- Mm-hm.

- Open the view plates.
- Mm-hm.

Well, that's it.

Cut in the generators.

Go ahead, Tom.

Gettell.

- Gettell.
- What is it?

It's...

It's all right. I was I...

it's all right.

Just a little pain, that's all.

The exertion, I suppose.

Aw, c'mon.
Take it easy, Professor.

I'll start rewiring it just in
case whatever's holding us here

decides to let us blast off
in a few days.

- The radio works.

The force field must be off.

Turn on the recorder, Irish.

Men of Earth,
we of the planet Mars,

give you this warning.

Listen carefully and remember...

Professor Gettell!

Oh... Iris,

I'm sorry.

The... takeoff...

the acceleration pressure...

Don't talk now.

- Let me help.
- No, no.

Wait, Iris.

The ship,

the wiring...

You... you must try...

Uh...

Tom...

in the cabin...

The cabin...

Tom!

Dr. Ryan, is that all of it?

What was the warning?
What else did the voice say?

Try to remember.

I don't know.

But Tom, he had me turn on
the tape recorder.

Maybe the last tape...

Nurse, light, please.

Here you are, doctor.

- What is it?
- Exhaustion.

Will she be all right?

With a lot of rest.

A giant amoeba.

She told us what we had to know.

- About Tom?
- Yes.

It's an enzymatic infection.

A minute part
of the amoebic creature

must have reached Tom's skin.

And it's growing,
literally eating his tissues.

Can you save him?

Now we know what we're fighting.

At least we have a chance.

- Dr. Gordon.

- All right now.

Three CCs.

All right.

Call me immediately
if there's any change.

Yes, doctor.

Dr. Gordon tells me it has
resisted everything we've tried.

We have slowed down its growth,
but that's all.

You know more about this
creature than anyone.

- We thought that...
- General Treegar,

there is a biological
laboratory here, isn't there?

Yes, of course.

Fine.

Dr. Ryan, Dr. Ryan!

Dr. Gordon, I think
we found the solution.

What can we do?

I'll show you.

Electricity.

We have already
thought of that, Dr. Ryan.

But any kind of electric
shock strong enough

to kill the amoeba
will also kill Tom.

- I know.
- Then how?

We've been attacking
the alien amoeba

as if it were a disease,
but it isn't, it's an animal,

an animal with instincts,
and most important of all,

a will to act.

It only makes it
harder to destroy.

And gives it a vulnerability
we also have,

that of making a wrong choice.

Look. We have two identical
tissue cultures there.

Both infested with our
own microscopic amoeba

and placed very close
to each other.

One we left alone.

The other we subjected to light,
periodic electric shocks.

Before long, all the amoeba
on the irritated culture

had made their choice.

They moved to the nearby
undisturbed culture.

Then that is what we have to do.

We will prepare
a large tissue culture

and place it next to the
infected arm, then, subject Tom

to electric shocks, just short
of being harmful to him.

Better hurry and get out
of that bed, Colonel, sir.

Broadway's waiting.

Broadway?

Just like to know
if I can cash my rain check?

It's up to you, Iris.

Tom, Iris, I have something
I want you to hear.

You were right.

The whole speech was
on the recorder, the last tape.

I think you should listen to it.

Sounds important.

Judge for yourself.

Professor Weiner.

Men of Earth,
we of the planet Mars

give you this warning.

Listen carefully and remember.

We have known your planet Earth

since the first creature crawled
out of the primeval slime

of your seas to become man.

For millennia, we have
followed your progress.

For centuries,
we have watched you,

listened to your radio signals

and learned your speech
and your culture.

And now, you have
invaded our home.

Technological adults, but
spiritual and emotional infants.

We kept you here,
deciding your fate.

Had the lower forms of life
on our planet destroyed you,

we would not have interfered.

But you survived.

Your civilization has not
progressed beyond destruction,

war and violence
against yourselves and others.

Do as you will
to your own and to your planet,

but remember this warning:

do not return to Mars.

You will be permitted to leave
for this sole purpose:

carry the warning to Earth.

Do not come here.

We can and will destroy you,
all life on your planet,

if you do not heed us.

You have seen us, been permitted
to glimpse our world.

Go now.

Warn mankind
not to return unbidden.