All language subtitles for Star.Trek.Deep.Space.Nine.S06E13.UHQ.NTSC.DVDRip.DD5.1.x264-Hi10P-LiGHTSPEED

The Defiant searched the
area for almost six hours.

We couldn't find
any sign of survivors.

The Cortez was a good ship.

You knew Captain Swofford
a long time.

I introduced him to his wife.

Patrolling Cardassian borders is
getting more and more dangerous.

You never know when you'll run
into a squadron of Jem'Hadar fighters.

I guess we popped the
champagne cork too soon, huh?

Everyone thought
the war was over

when we retook the station

and pushed the Dominion
back into Cardassian space.

I never believed that,
and neither did you.

A lot of good that did the
400 people on the Cortez.

Ah. Mr. Sisko.

How do you like
our station so far?

Well, it certainly is...

big.

I heard about Quentin Swofford.

I'm sorry.

Look, Dad...

I know I haven't been very good
company in the last few days.

I didn't come here
to be entertained.

I came to see you and Jake.

Well...

you certainly picked
an interesting time

to take your first
trip away from Earth.

Well, I figured it
was now or never.

Besides, I've been
worried about you.

The last couple of
times we've talked,

it seemed like you
were carrying the weight

of the entire Alpha Quadrant
on your shoulders.

Sometimes it
certainly feels that way.

Dad...

Just say it, son.

I don't know how
much more I can take.

I don't know how many
more friends I can lose.

Every time I
achieve a real victory,

something like this happens,

and everything
seems to turn to ashes.

So what do you want to do?

Maybe it's time for
me to step down,

let someone else
make the tough calls.

I see.

No one is indispensable, son,

not even you.

Whatever decision
you make, I'll support.

Of course, if Quentin
Swofford was here,

I'd bet he'd have a
few things to say to you.

But he's not here, and
that's the whole point.

I'd say you have
some thinking to do,

and I've got a dinner
date with my grandson.

So you'd better get to it.

Who was that?

Where'd he go?

Who?

The man that just
walked by my door.

I didn't see anyone.

I could have sworn...

I don't know what
you're worried about, Ben

I'm not taking my ship anywhere
near the Cardassian border.

I realize that, but the Dominion
is getting bolder and bolder

and your freighter is no match
for a Jem'Hadar attack ship.

Ah, they've got
to catch me first.

You're really not
worried, are you?

No. I'm fearless,
and you know that.

That's why you love me.

I think I follow that logic.

Hey, Benny!

Catch the game?

What?

Who was that?

Who was who?

Ben?

Where you going?

He's awake now.

Ben, are you all right?

- I think so.
- Thank god.

You scared us
there for a minute.

- What happened?
- I don't know.

I'm reading some
unusual synaptic potentials.

Your neural patterns are similar
to those you experienced last year.

You mean... when I was
having those visions about Bajor?

Visions? Does this have
to do with those Prophets

you're always telling me about?

He's not going to need
surgery again, is he?

I'm not sure yet,

so I'd like you to remain
overnight for observation.

Is that absolutely necessary?

Take a look at these readings.

Hey, you going
to buy that or not?

Now, personally, I
don't see the attraction.

Spaceships, flying saucers,
men from Mars.

What's wrong with men from Mars?

Nothing, except
it's all make-believe.

Me? I like war stories.

Did you see, From
Here to Eternity?

Burt Lancaster standing there

in the middle of Pearl Harbor,

machine gun blazing...
shooting down those zeros.

If it had been flying
saucers, forget about it.

So you going to buy that or not?

- Benny.
- Hello, Albert.

I, uh... I thought you
might be going to the, uh...

the office.

We could walk there together.

Exactly. Uh, uh...
If I could find...

Ah, there they are.

So, you're looking
at the galaxy I see.

Paper here! Paper!

Voila.

A pitcher of plain water instantly
becomes a pitcher of ice tea.

Incredible!

"White rose redi-tea."
What an appalling concept.

Oh! H.G. Wells
would've liked it.

I doubt it. No self-respecting
Englishman would.

Pabst! Pabst, get out here.

- What's wrong now, Herb?
- One guess.

"Battle of the
doughnuts," round 28.

That's it? You call me out here to
complain? About the doughnuts?

They're stale again.

Delicious.

Delicious, my eye. These are
two days old, and you know it.

I've been eating
doughnuts my whole life.

These weren't baked
more than... six hours ago.

That's it. I quit.
I'm going over to Galaxy.

Galaxy? That rag?

- Whose winning?
- Draw, same as always.

Want to write in Galaxy?
They won't pay four cents a word.

You're paying him
four cents a word?

- Stay out, Julius.
- Where did I put?

I gave you the matches.
I gave them to you.

For that fantasy crap you
write, you're lucky to get two.

- I beg your pardon?
- What's that?

The latest Galaxy.

Benny has the
new issue of Galaxy.

Let me see that.

Heinlein, Bradbury, Sturgeon.

Quite a lineup.

Add Herbert Rossoff to
them, and it'd be complete.

What if I promise you
fresh doughnuts tomorrow?

- Why should I believe you?
- I'll even throw in a couple of crullers.

- Okay, I'll stay.
- Don't do us any favors.

Good. Now that we've
finished with the old business,

on to the new.

Time to hand out next
month's story assignments.

Ritterhouse, we're waiting!

Okay, friends and neighbors.

Let's see what uncle
Roy has for you today.

All right, I've titled this
one "Please take me with you."

Who wants it?

What do you think, Jules?

I think we can
do something with that.

Oh, I'll bet you can.
I can see it now...

A lonely little girl befriended
by empathetic aliens

who teach her how to smile.

It's enough to make you go
out and buy a television set.

Next.

This is
Mr. Pabst's favorite.

"Honeymoon on Andorras."

You've got to be kidding.

I had too much sauerkraut
in my franks that night.

What can I say?

That is the worst
garbage I have ever seen.

- Thank you.
- I'll take it.

Of course, you will. You have
an affinity for garbage. Don't you?

The picture may be
garbage, but the story...

The story will be art.

All right, I haven't
got a title for this one yet.

Anybody got any ideas?

I'll think of something.

All right,
next order of business.

Some of our readers
have been writing in

wanting to know what
you people look like.

Well, write back and
tell them we look like writers.

Poor, needy and
incredibly attractive.

Well, our publisher
has a better idea.

Mr. Stone has decided
to run a picture of you

in next month's issue.

Is that absolutely...

Necessary? I'm afraid it is.

Kay, you can
sleep late that day.

Of course, I can.

God forbid the public ever finds
out that K.C. Hunter is a woman.

I suppose I'm sleeping
late that day, too.

It's not personal, but as far
as our readers are concerned,

Benny Russell is
as white as they are.

Let's keep it that way.

Oh, yes...

If the world's not ready
for a woman writer...

imagine what would happen if it
learned about a Negro with a typewriter.

Run for the hills.
It's the end of civilization.

What about W.E.B. Dubois,

Zora Neale Huston,
Langston Hughes,

Ralph Ellison, Richard Wright?

Did you ever hear of native son?

That's literature for
liberals and intellectuals.

The average reader won't
spend his hard-earned cash

on stories written by Negroes.

Someone shoot me and
put me out of my misery.

Oh, how I long for a gun.

Sorry, Benny. I wish things
were different, but they're not.

Wishing never
changed a damn thing.

Come on, Benny,
it's just a photo.

I'll try to remember that.

You're a dog.

All right, enough standing
around. Get back to work.

Hey, hey, hey.

What's the hurry?

That's my drawing.

- Is that so?
- Nice suit.

Where'd you get it?

I bought it.

Can I have my drawing back?

Hey, boy, I'd watch that
tone of voice if I were you.

What are you doing here?

- I work here.
- Yeah? Where?

In there.

What are you? The janitor?

Awfully well-dressed
for a janitor.

How do we know
that picture's yours?

It's the drawing
of a space station.

Space station?

Hey, hey... Uh-uh.

Well, get off it already.

Okay, okay.

See? It's not worth
anything except to me.

Let's say we run him
in, check him for priors.

Eh... We got to be
uptown in 15 minutes.

Take your drawing...
and get out of here.

Hey, hey. You're getting
off with a warning this time.

Next time, not so lucky.
Now, get out of here.

You heard him, move on.

I don't know, Kevin.

This whole city's going to
hell in a hand basket, huh?

Damn shame.

Come on.

And he said to me...

"These words are
trustworthy and true.

"And the Lord God of
the spirits of the Prophets

"had sent an angel
to show his servants

what must soon take place."

Praise the Lord.
Open their eyes.

Help them to see.

Are you talking to me?

"O, that my words
were now written.

O, that they were
printed in a book."

Write those words,
Brother Benny.

Let them see the glory
of what lies ahead.

"B-Benny"? How do
you know my name?

Go now and write the
truth that's in your heart...

The truth "that
shall set them free."

Praise be the word of the Lord.

Praise to the word
of the Prophets!

Hey, baby.
Have a seat. The usual?

How about scrambling
those eggs today?

Oh, my. Aren't we
feeling adventurous?

I have just written the
best story of my life.

That's great, baby.

I've got some good news, too.

I talked to
Mrs. Jackson last night,

and she's serious about retiring
in the next couple of years.

I asked her about
selling this place to us,

and she said that
she would be willing.

Cassie, we have been over this.

I have a job. I am a writer.

And how much money
have you earned doing that?

I've only been working
at it for a few years.

A few years? More like 15...

if you count all those stories
you wrote in the Navy.

- That was amateur stuff.
- Oh, baby.

Neither one of us is
getting any younger.

Can't you see?

This is our chance.

We can make some
money, we can get married.

You're always talking
about writing for the future.

Well, look around you.
This is our future.

Cassie, hear the
game last night?

Went two for four,
robbed Snider of a tater.

Should've heard the crowd...
yelling and carrying on.

Sure, they were yelling.

They want to know why
the Giants are in fifth place.

Would you please tell this fool to
take his business someplace else?

Well, I thought about it.

Trouble is, if he did leave,
he'd take my heart with him.

Well, suit yourself.

But if you ask me,

it's a waste of a
very pretty heart.

I don't think so.

Strike three. You're out.

Oh, that's all right.

I'll get another turn at bat.

How about some steak and eggs?

Ah, coming right up.
Uh, but tell me something.

How come you
still living uptown?

A famous ballplayer like you,

you can live anywhere you want.

The hell I can.

They can hardly get used to the
idea of me playing alongside them.

Living next door to them?
That's a whole other story.

Besides, around here,
when people look at me,

It's 'cause they admire me.

There, I'm just another colored
boy that can hit a curve ball.

Now, if you will excuse
me, my public awaits.

I'll see about those eggs.

Hey, hey, Benny.

You want to buy a watch?

Where'd you get that?

I found it. Nice, huh?

Jimmy, you've got
to turn this around

or one day you're going to find
yourself in some serious trouble.

Anything I can get
into, I can get out.

You keep thinking that way
and watch what happens.

Man, why you always
trying to lecture me?

I'm not trying to lecture you,
Jimmy. I'm just trying to help.

You want to help me?
You can buy this watch.

I can use the cash.

Why don't you get a job?

As what?

A delivery boy or a dishwasher?

No, thanks.

I like being my own boss,
setting my own hours.

Sounds like a great life.

Yours ain't no better,

writing stories about a bunch of
white people living on the moon.

Man, who cares about that?

Hey, I'm not doing that
anymore. I'm writing about us.

What, colored
people on the moon?

Check out next month's issue.

Colored people on the moon.

I just might do that.

But first, I'm going to need
to raise me some cash.

Oh! She's got a
worm in her belly.

Oh, that's disgusting.

That's interesting,
but that's disgusting.

And you, uh, um...

If you don't mind
my asking that is,

You... You are...?

I'm Mr. Pabst's new
secretary, Darlene Kursky.

Which one of youse wrote this?

I did.

- You?
- Surprised?

Well... It's the best thing I've
read since The Puppet Masters.

I read a lot of science fiction.

Bless you, my child.

The world needs
more people like you.

This story is really...
It's... It's... um... uh...

How should I put it?

It's... It's very...

- Impressive?
- Yes.

It's a damn fine piece
of writing is what it is.

And Deep Space Nine
is a very intriguing title.

Very admirable.

The master of understatement.

What he really means is, he
wishes he had half your talent.

You know what, Benny?

I like this major.
She's a tough cookie.

Science fiction needs more
strong women characters.

I'm always saying
that, aren't I?

Ad nauseam, dear.

These Cardassians... I like
the way you described them,

Especially the neck ridges.

I'm going to do some
sketches, make a nice cover.

Don't waste your time.

You, get back to work.
You, too, Roy.

Douglas, you're not going to
tell us you don't like this story.

Oh, I like it.
It's very good.

But you know I can't print it.

- Why not?
- Oh, come on, Benny.

Your hero's a Negro Captain,

The head of a space
station, for Christ's sake.

What's wrong with that?

People won't accept it.
It's not believable.

- And men from Mars are?
- Stay out of this, Herb.

Look, Benny, I am
a magazine editor.

I am not a crusader.

I'm not here to change the world.
I'm here to put out a magazine.

That means I have to
answer to the publisher,

The national distributors,
the wholesalers,

and none of them are going to want
to put this story on the newsstand.

For all we know, it
could cause a race riot.

Congratulations, Douglas.

That's the most imbecilic attempt
to rationalize personal cowardice

that I've ever heard.

Uh. He's angry now.

Huh! Herb's been angry
ever since Josef Stalin died.

What's that supposed to mean?

You know exactly what it means.

- You calling me a red?
- Easy, easy.

Calm down, dear boy.
We're writers, not vikings.

I'm not going to stand here
and let some craven fascist

call me a pinko
and get away with it.

Douglas, um...

What did you think
of, uh... of my story?

I loved it. Albert's
got the right idea.

He's not interested
in Negroes or whites.

- He writes about robots.
- That's because he is a robot.

No offense, Albert.

Well, I...

like robots.

They're very...
uh... uh, efficient.

Here. Write me a novella
based on this picture.

I'll print it in next
month's issue.

You do a good job, you
might even get the cover.

- What about my story?
- The way I see it,

You can either burn
it or stick it in a drawer

for the next 50 years
or how ever long it takes

the human race to
become color-blind.

I want people to read it now.

You want me to print it,
make the captain white.

That's not what I wrote!

It's your call.

I'm sorry they didn't
buy your story, baby.

Really I am.

I told you you were
wasting your time.

A colored captain.

The only reason they'll
ever let us in space

is if they need someone
to shine their shoes.

Ain't that right, Cassie?

I don't know, and to be honest,

I don't much care what happens
a hundred years from now.

It's today that matters.

Well, I've got news for you.

Today or 100 years from now,
it don't make a bit of difference.

As far as they're concerned,
we'll always be niggers.

Things are going to change.
They have to.

Oh, you keep
telling yourself that.

Maybe this is all
happening for a reason.

You mean maybe it's
God's way of telling me

I should quit writing and go
into the restaurant business?

Hey, it's possible.

Baby, I know we can
make this work for us.

We could be happy.

Besides, you don't have to
give up writing altogether.

Maybe you could write
something for the Amsterdam News

Or... some other
Negro newspaper.

I'm not a reporter.

I'm a writer. I write fiction,

And the Amsterdam News
is not going to publish stories

about a space station
400 years into the future.

Hear the game last night?

Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't
mean to frighten you.

You don't look so good.
You sick or something?

- Oh, no, I'm fine.
- You want to lie down in the back?

No, I... I just need some air.

Are we still on for tonight?

I'll pick you up about 10:00.

Well, what are
you doing till 10:00?

Whatever it is, I won't
be doing it with you.

Hello, Brother Benny.

Oh, you again.

I don't understand
what you want from me.

To follow the path
of the Prophets.

Walk with the Prophets,
Brother Benny.

Show us the way.

W--what way?

I don't know what
you're talking about.

Write the words,
Brother Benny...

The words that
will lead us out of the darkness

onto the path of righteousness!

Write the words, Brother Benny!

Write the words!

Hey, baby.

Hey, hey, hey.

You forgot all about our date.

Ohh... our date.

I'm sorry. I was working.

Ben Sisko? Isn't that
your colored Captain?

Mm-hmm.

Why are you writing
another one of those stories?

You couldn't sell the last one.

What makes you think this
one will be any different?

It probably won't be,
but it doesn't matter.

It's what I've got to do.

Right now, what
you've got to do is eat.

I'm not hungry.

What time is it anyway?

It's after midnight.

I should be getting home to bed.

But before I go, what do you say
we take a spin on the dance floor?

Okay.

Mmm. Feels good, doesn't it?

I could stay like this forever.

Mmm, me, too.
It's times like these

That I wish we'd never
heard of the Dominion.

The Dominion?

What do you mean?

You said something
about the Dominion.

What is it, Ben?

What's wrong?

I don't know.

I think I'm losing my mind.

Tell me what's wrong.

I'm starting to see
things from my story.

It's as if I'm becoming
this Captain Sisko.

Okay, baby, you just
need to get some rest.

It's all right. It's all right.

I'm with you.
I'm with you, baby.

Just take it easy. Shh.

Have you lost your mind?

I've been asking myself
the same question.

I give you a novella to write, I
even offer you a shot at the cover.

Three weeks later
instead of a novella,

you come back with six stories,

six sequels to a story I refused
to publish in the first place.

So I guess the answer to the
question we've both been asking

is, yeah, you are certifiable.

I think you should print
your own stories, you know?

Through a private
publishing house.

A nice, elegant volume
50 to 100 copies.

That's a great idea.

Yeah, might as well write
it in chalk on the sidewalk.

More people would
read it that way.

I've got an idea.

Why not make them,
you know, a, uh...

A d--dream?

What's that?

Just make the ending
of your first story of

Deep Space Nine a...

dream.

Would that make a difference?

- That depends.
- On what?

On who's doing the dreaming.

Well, obviously someone, uh...
someone without a lot of hope.

A--a shoeshine boy, a convict...

Someone dreaming
of a better future.

A Negro.

Yeah, well, I suppose he'd have to be if
he was dreaming about a Negro Captain.

Hold on.

Making it a dream
guts the story.

Shut up, Herb!

I think it makes
it more poignant.

What about the
other Sisko stories?

You can't make them all dreams.

Let him get this published,
then worry about the others.

What do you think, Benny?

I think...

It's better than chalk
on the sidewalk.

Can I play?

Hey, Jimmy, I got great news.
We are headed for the stars.

Yeah, sure, whatever.

Oh, come on.
I'll buy you lunch.

I'll tell you all about it.

Later. I got some
business to take care of.

What kind of business?

Big time. That's all I'm saying.

Hey, hold it. Hold it.

What are you talking about?

Don't worry about it.

- It's cool, I got it under control.
- Huh?

I'll see you around.

Bottom of the
seventh, I'm up again.

0-2 fast ball... Bam! Into
the left field bleachers.

Had to be 400 feet.

I know all about it, Willie.
I read the newspaper.

Oh, but you got to admit...

They don't tell
it like I tell it.

Hey, Cassie!

Hey, man, did you
hear the game last night?

I went two for four.

Yeah, Willie, that's great,
but I just hit a grand slam.

They are publishing
one of my Sisko stories

at three cents a word,
three cents a word!

Oh, good for you, baby!

That means tonight we are
celebrating. Dancing, the works.

- I'll wear my red dress.
- You're damn right you will.

Three cents a word.
Three cents a word.

Whoo!

Hey! There you are.

Oh! Oh, my poor feet. Baby,
you better marry me soon.

I'm not getting any younger.

Yes, but you are getting
more beautiful day by day.

♪ I'd be happy just
to spend my life ♪

♪ Waiting on your
beck and call ♪

Brother Benny.

I was hoping I'd see you again.

I did it.

My story's getting published.

"And the light of the
Lord is in his path."

But, Brother Benny,

This is only the
beginning of your journey,

not the ending,

and the path of the Prophets

sometimes leads
into darkness and pain.

Benny, what is he talking about?

Who are you?

I speak with the
voice of the Prophets.

And in their words,
hope and despair walk arm in arm.

Did you understand any of that?

Is that gunfire?

- Hey! Whoa, whoa!
- What happened?

- What's it to you?
- I know him.

Oh, yeah? Maybe you can
explain what he was doing

trying to break into this car.

You shot him because
he was breaking into a car?

- He had a weapon.
- A crowbar!

Yeah, now, step back.

- Let's go.
- Come on.

Hey!

Stop it! Stop it!
Stop it! Let him go!

Stop it, please!
Stop it! Get off me!

Stop it!
You're going to kill him!

You're going to kill him!

Stop it! Stop it! Please...

Stop! Stop!

I'm telling you, baby.

You've been cooped up
in this apartment for weeks.

Going down to the
office will do you good.

I suppose you're right.

I should be there
when the first copies

of this month's
issue are delivered.

Absolutely.

After all that work you did,

you deserve to see
your story in print.

Just no jumping up and
down with excitement.

I wouldn't want
you to hurt yourself.

I will restrict myself
to a proud grin.

You're not having any more of
those hallucinations, are you?

I'm fine.

What about
"It Came From Outer Space"?

I think it's a smashing title.

Wish I'd thought of it.

Hey, Benny.

Long time no see.

Is it here?

Not yet.

Pabst is still at the printer.

We're waiting for his
return with baited breath.

We, uh, heard that...

That you were...

We heard they beat
the hell out of you.

I'm okay.

Glad to see that you're...

you know, up... and about.

Tell him the good news, Albert.

- Yeah.
- Oh, it's-it's nothing.

Nothing?

He sells a novel to Gnome
Press, and he says it's nothing?

Novel, Albert. Congratulations.

Robots, huh?

What else?

It's about time.

Douglas, magazine?

There isn't any magazine
not this month anyway.

Mr. Stone had the
entire run pulped.

- He can't do that.
- Oh, he can...

And he did.

He believes, quote,

"This issue did not live up to our
usual high standards," unquote.

Well... What's that
supposed to mean?

It means he didn't like it.

Which means the public
will simply have to get along

without any Incredible
Tales this month.

What exactly is it
that he did not like?

The-the-the artwork,
the, uh, the layout?

Uh, what "high standards"
is he talking about?

- Take it easy, Benny.
- No, I...

It's about my story, isn't it?

That's what this is all about.

He didn't want to
publish my story,

And we all know why.

Because my hero
is a colored man.

Hey! This magazine
belongs to Mr. Stone.

If he doesn't want
to publish this month,

we don't publish end of story.

And that doesn't make
it right, and you know it.

Don't tell me what I know.

Besides, it's not
about what's right.

It's about what is...

And I'm afraid I've got some
more bad news for you, Benny.

Mr. Stone has decided that your
services are no longer required here.

What?

You're firing me?

I have no choice, Benny.

It's his decision.

Well, you can't fire me.

I quit. To hell with you...

And to hell with Stone.

Try to stay calm, Benny.

No! I'm tired of being calm.

Calm never got me a damn thing.

I'm warning you, Benny.

If you don't stop this,
I'm going to call the police.

You go ahead! Call them!

Call anybody you want.
They can't do anything to me.

Not anymore... and
nor can any of you!

I... am a human being, damn it.

You can deny me all you want...
but you cannot deny Ben Sisko.

He exists.

That future, that space station,
all those people, they exist in here.

In my mind. I created it.

And every one of you know it.

You read it.

It's here.

You get what I'm telling you?

You can pulp a story, but
you cannot destroy an idea.

Don't you understand?
That's ancient knowledge.

You cannot destroy an idea.

That future I created it,
and it's real!

Don't you understand?

It is real!
I created it, and it's real!

It's real. Oh, God!

Easy...

One... two... three.

Rest easy, Brother Benny.

You have walked in
the path of the Prophets.

There is no greater glory.

Tell me, please.

Who am I?

Don't you know?

Tell me.

You are the dreamer...

and the dream.

Ben.

Ben?

How long was I out?

Only for a few minutes.

Seemed like forever to me.

That's odd.

Somehow your neural
patterns have returned to normal.

That's good, isn't it?

Oh, it's very good.

I just don't understand
how it happened.

How are you feeling, son?

I'm okay.

I'm done packing.

Transport leaves at
8:00 in the morning.

I wish you could stay longer.

I've got to get back
to the restaurant.

My customers have never
gone this long without me.

The question is what
are you going to do?

The only thing I can do.

Stay here and finish
the job I started,

And if I fail...

"I have fought the good fight...
I have finished the course...

I have kept the faith."

I've never known you
to quote from the bible.

I'm full of surprises, aren't I?

And so are you.

Sounds like that
dream you had...

helped you sort things out.

I suppose it did...

But I have begun to wonder.

What if it wasn't a dream?

What if this life we're leading,

all of this...

you and me, everything...

What if all of this
is the illusion?

That's a scary thought.

I know. I know.

But maybe, just maybe...

Benny isn't the dream.

We are.

Maybe we're nothing more
than figments of his imagination.

For all we know...

At this very moment,

Somewhere far beyond
all those distant stars...

Benny Russell...

is dreaming of us.