Original subtitles

This perfect condition existed as long ago as

a thousand orbits, when our planet Medusa belonged

to the solar system of Proxima Centauri.

These were the golden years of our history.

Led by the grand council of women, we

had created a world of intellect, of leisure,

and of advanced technology where the menial tasks

and some others were patiently performed by our

men.

Then came the great comet Dionysus.

As it passed, its vast mass dragged us

towards the frozen infinity of outer space, slowly

at first, giving us a chance to plan

and build the cities we know today deep

under the surface, before Medusa was finally encased

in a blanket of ice.

For generations we drifted through space.

Then, one day an expedition to the surface

returned with great news.

We had arrived in a new solar system,

a solar system containing another life-supporting planet

called Earth.

Earth proved a great disappointment to us.

Contrary to all common sense, it was controlled

by men.

Typically, we found it to be crude, primitive,

muddling along in an untidy and disease-prone

existence.

We withdrew, and Earth was declared out of

bounds to all civilized space travelers.

You've been watching the first part of our

history program for Junior Girl.

The second part, entitled Heroin Through the Ages,

will appear shortly.

Heroin Through the Ages.

And what about the men?

Who does the work on this planet?

Who builds the cities?

Who looks after the kids?

Who slaves all the day over a microwave

stove?

Keep quiet, Adam.

That's the way it is.

That's the way it always will be.

It's a woman's world.

No.

Not for much longer, Shem.

My plans are almost ready.

Listen.

Here is an important news item.

Ignore it, or we dance.

We bring you grave news from the future.

A few moments ago, our prediction computers began

to issue warnings of a revival of activities

among the illegal men's liberation movement.

Counselor Octavia, head of security, is in our

prediction room at this moment, consulting the Destiny

computer for details.

Destiny computer.

Do you see the patterns of revolt?

Affirmative.

Amongst which section of males?

The surface workers?

Negative.

The lographers?

Negative.

Nursing fathers?

Negative.

Male domestics?

Positive.

They will disobey their mistresses?

Positive.

We have to get away.

When will this spaceship be ready?

There's a complete photon unit to be replaced.

Then replace it by sunform.

I want that yacht ready for takeoff before

Neptune rises.

That yacht belongs to Supreme Counselor Fulvia, the

President's niece.

I know.

But how are you going to get hold

of the electronic keys and the astronavigation chart?

As Fulvia's personal domestic, I enjoy certain privileges.

Adam.

Yes, madam.

Turn off the ostrogen lamp.

Yes, madam.

Adam, did I dismiss you?

No.

Then come over here next to me.

What do you think I've lost today?

In weight, madam, or age?

In age, you fool.

You know my weight never changes.

About three weeks?

Is that all?

Yes, madam.

Adam, aren't you going to tell me that

I look more beautiful than I did yesterday?

Yes, madam.

Then say it.

You look more beautiful than yesterday, Supreme Counselor

Fulvia.

Thank you.

Now you may prepare something for me to

eat.

Mechanic Shem.

Shem, I have the keys and the charts.

How long will you be here?

Well, I've still got a drive motor in

pieces.

Hurry.

We don't have long.

We can't drive a space yacht, Adam.

It's far too difficult for a man.

Get that yacht ready for launching.

I'll be with you shortly.

Adam.

Coming, madam.

Counselor Octavia tells me she has you listed

as a possible subversive.

Is that true?

Of what, madam?

He doesn't understand long words.

I have told her that you are my

loyal domestic and that you love your mistress.

Am I right, Adam?

Yes, Counselor.

Any male domestic on Medusa would give his

life to serve a woman as beautiful as

I.

Am I not right, Adam?

Oh, yes, Counselor.

Then kiss me.

I shall wish to interrogate him.

I'll send him along when I've finished with

him.

Now kiss me properly, as though you meant

it.

Now you may go.

Would you care for a little sleep before

your council meeting, madam?

But set the hypnomat for ten micro-orbits

only.

Stop!

Stop where you are!

Security alert!

Security alert in Sector 12!

Security alert!

Get aboard!

It's not ready yet.

Will it fly?

I don't know.

We've still got one photon cell to finish.

We must go without it.

Keys and charge.

But we'll lose power.

Get in!

We've done it.

We're clear.

They'll send a pursuit ship.

By the time they've organized that, we'll be

well out of orbit.

I still can't get full power.

It's that drive motor.

Well, you're doing fine.

Brilliantly.

Yeah, the ship was built for pleasure, not

speed.

Switch on astronavigational control.

Where are we going, Adam?

Obtain coordinates.

And lock onto that planet there.

Magnify.

Earth.

Earth, ship.

Where the stories are true, men rule their

own world.

Oh, such a planet.

Must be paradise.

Paradise.

Earth.

Rudy, we thought you'd never make it.

So did I.

What's happening, Liz?

We've made contact.

Vicinity Neptune moving towards Uranus.

Incredible.

It's already approaching Jupiter.

Professor Evans is on his way.

Speed?

300 million miles an hour.

That's half the speed of light.

Check it again.

It's been checked and double-checked.

350 million and still accelerating.

360 million.

370 million.

Is that the greatest speed you can get

out of this old tub?

I've told you, one of the drive motors

is out.

Anyway, this yacht wasn't built for speed.

Just coming out of Jupiter's gravitational field.

If we can pick up the following solar

wind, we may make up a bit of

time.

How long before they come after us?

You know how our women masters like to

talk.

By the time they've finished arguing about us,

we'll be through the asteroid belt.

They've taken my yacht.

I warned you your domestic was dangerous.

They've probably gone for some joy ride.

They'll be back soon.

Why should they be back?

Do you think your domestic loves you so

much she can't bear to be parted from

you?

Of course he loves his mistress.

This whole thing is absurd.

He would want...

Just get it into your head that they've

escaped and are heading for Earth.

I've just spoken to your aunt, the president.

I've orders to fetch them back.

If you're domestic, you have the right to

come with me.

Now let me make one thing clear, Fulvia.

You may be influential here on Medusa, but

once you're on my ship, I shall be

in charge.

You hate men, Octavia.

I don't hate them.

But I have very little time for women

who fall in love with them.

I shall carry out my duty without sentiment

and without pity.

Understood?

Professor, it's slowing down.

225 million.

Then it is controlled.

By what?

Or whom.

Some kind of intelligence that's clear.

From another star system?

If so, we should have checked it earlier.

Rudy, it was first sighted just beyond Neptune's

orbit.

At that time, it was picking up speed.

What does that suggest to you?

That this was the beginning of its journey.

But that's impossible.

Scientifically impossible.

For years, we have been collecting evidence of

extraterrestrial activity.

That's why this department was set up.

Now we have the evidence to justify our

existence.

You refuse to believe it.

Professor, we're picking up a second signal.

Again, just beyond Neptune.

Out to the asteroid belt.

Approaching Mars orbit.

And the pursuit ship?

Too far back.

They won't catch up.

Locking onto automatic.

We'll make it, Shep.

We'll make it.

Maybe.

But what are we going to find when

we get there?

A new life.

Freedom.

They must have women on Earth.

But they're submissive women.

They take orders from men.

Can you imagine?

It's a crash warning.

What's gone wrong?

I don't know.

Maybe the gravitation reading was wrong.

Or some slight adjustment we forgot.

The video channel.

Someone trying to get through.

It's the pursuit ship.

Ignore it.

We can't.

We don't take orders from them anymore.

We've computed your approach.

You're locked into collision course with Earth.

You're ordered to abort.

But how, madam?

I don't know how.

Feed this video signal directly into your astronavigational

channel.

Our computer will instruct it from there.

No.

Don't give them control.

If you continue on this program, you will

hit Earth's atmosphere at 5 million miles an

hour and disintegrate.

Please, Adam.

Do as she says.

We'll take our chance.

There is no chance.

You have made a fatal error.

Then we'll put it right ourselves.

You don't know how.

Please, Adam.

If you love me, do as we say.

Unlock the automatic.

Get back on manual.

Get back on manual flight!

It's no use, Adam.

We're dead men.

Liz, where are they now?

Still heading for Earth at a colossal speed.

They're leaving deceleration very late if they intend

to land.

We don't know what they intend, Liz.

If only we could communicate with them.

Yes, you are right.

It is worth a try.

Look, Rudy, transmit to them all relevant data

for controlled entry into the Earth's atmosphere.

We can just hope for the best.

Was life really so bad on Medusa?

Do you remember the night I kissed the

assistant commander of the yacht station?

Yeah, and got three months of surface-minus

-a-punishment.

It was worth it.

I'm picking up a signal from Earth.

Ah, what's the use?

It makes no sense.

We've picked up this type of signal before.

It's mathematical data.

Fulvia was curious and programmed a computer to

read it.

Feed it straight into the astronaut.

Specific gravity.

Atmosphere density.

Angle of approach.

They're trying to help us.

They're going in.

Too fast.

Surely much too fast.

Yes, Fulvia.

Much too fast.

If I have my coordinates right, they must

be somewhere within 20 miles of the lake.

If they land, the re-entry speed we

gave them is only approximate, not knowing the

size of their vehicle or the substance from

which it's made.

Yes?

I see.

Thank you.

Forest fire five miles southwest of the lake,

spotted by a helicopter.

Intense heat at the centre.

That'll be it.

Look, keep that, will you, please?

It's all right.

I'm Professor Evans.

Ah, yes.

Stanley.

Inspector.

Look, there's no point in going any further.

We can't get within 100 yards of it.

Have you seen it?

Well, it's nothing to see.

It's just a ball of flame at the

white-hot centre.

Whatever's in there can't possibly have survived.

So, we returned to Medusa.

But there were just men, Fulvia.

Male domestics.

But he loved me.

But there are plenty more men...

on Medusa.

To be

continued...