Original subtitles

I'm merely stating that,

given that the film is based on a Jules Verne novel,

they could pay at least cursory attention

to scientific plausibility.

I believe it's meant for children, William.

Precisely.

You wouldn't want them to go through life

with a distorted understanding of physics.

So it's not possible to reach the moon by way of cannon?

Even if enough force could be summoned,

the acceleration would crush you.

I can't even begin to discuss the gravitational issues.

I thought you said you loved this book as a child.

Well, I know better now.

You're right.

We're being followed.

- But don't look now. - How do you know?

He's been following us since the theater.

How many turns have we taken since leaving the theater?

Four.

Well, assuming three degrees of freedom at every turn...

Three to the power of four.

- 81. - 81.

One person in 81 would take this route.

Yes, but not all routes are equal.

The odds of two parties taking this exact route are...

It's impossible to calculate.

- Well, not impossible. - Come this way.

There you have it.

He didn't even look in our direction.

I find that curious.

He was being a gentleman.

He assumed two lovers stealing into the shadows.

I think you should take me home.

William!

Who are you?

You've been following us. I demand to know why.

Get in, please.

Not without an explanation.

One will be forthcoming. They only want you.

Where he goes, I go.

As you wish.

Ah, Detective Murdoch.

Terrence Meyers.

I might have known you'd be behind this.

William.

Prime Minister.

Detective Murdoch, I apologize for the way you were summoned.

Circumstances require it.

Allow me to introduce my wife, Dr. Julia Ogden.

I'm pleased to meet you, Doctor.

It's an honor.

I'm afraid what we have to say is not for the citizenry.

I know this woman, sir. I believe she can be trusted.

Very well.

A crisis has arisen, Detective.

We have less than 20 hours.

20 hours to what?

To save Canada.

"Project D has been activated.

Unless payment of $4 million is made by 6:00 p.m. tomorrow,

New York will burn."

He goes on to provide instructions

on how payment is to be made.

- You received this... - Four hours ago.

- What is Project D? - Project D doesn't exist.

Not officially, anyway.

It was an idea, tabled at a cabinet meeting two years ago

by then Defence Minister William Fergus.

- What does "D" stand for? - Defense.

Although "doomsday" may be more appropriate.

This project called for a policy

of guaranteed reciprocal annihilation.

A series of enormous guns arrayed along the border,

capable of delivering an explosive device

up to 400 miles.

So if one country starts a war,

both are mutually assured destruction?

After this meeting, a decision was made

to move Mr. Fergus to a safer ministry.

Industrial development.

He was supposed to oversee construction

of a federal shipping yard.

We assumed everything was going according to plan.

Until certain irregularities came to our attention.

Irregularities?

Of a nature that suggested Project D,

in fact, was being built.

Unfortunately, by the time we started an investigation,

most of the pertinent documents had been removed.

- And the minister himself? - He's disappeared.

We followed him here to Toronto, but he's now eluded us.

And you believe this minister to be behind this extortion?

That's what we're hoping you can determine.

Meyers, you know how to reach me.

Sir.

Right, our first priority

is to find the minister and talk to him.

Do you have a photograph of this Fergus fellow?

And where does he usually stay when he's in town?

Queen's Hotel. But he hasn't checked in yet.

What are his habits?

If he's in hiding, he'll change where he stays

but not how he travels or the food he likes to eat.

He likes to travel by coach, as I understand.

And he likes his steaks bloody. Or so I'm told.

I've never actually broken bread with the man.

We'll see that the local hotels are apprised.

- And steakhouses. - And steakhouses.

Murdoch, the future of Canada is in peril.

We have less than 20 hours.

I don't believe time to be an issue.

The trajectory of a projectile

is a function of three variables...

Distance, velocity, and angle.

Assuming the angle for maximum range,

we arrive at a muzzle velocity of 7,000 feet per second.

All of this in a vacuum, of course.

Your point?

No explosive force known to man could propel a large missile

anywhere near that speed.

So it's impossible.

With today's technology, yes.

- A hoax, then? - Well, that's a relief, then.

So who's behind this? The minister, I assume.

Well, he initiated Project D, brought it to your attention.

- What did he hope to gain? - Aside from $4 million?

- Follow the money. - Well, I say we call his bluff.

Unless someone else is responsible for this.

Such as”?

This letter was mailed from Toronto in the afternoon post.

Who else is here in town that knows about Project D?

Myself, the prime minister,

and the deputy minister, Lester Mogg.

I was signing off on the purchase invoices

for the shipyards when I found these items included.

Four-foot barrel sections?

Made of high-temperature steel.

50 barrels of liquid hydrogen.

Not exactly the kind of materials

one would need to build a shipyard.

So you figured Minister Fergus was up to something?

These items were being diverted to a warehouse in Oakville.

We investigated that warehouse. We found it empty.

All the items had already been removed.

Mr. Mogg, I'm going to need the details of every meeting.

Minister Fergus has had since he began at that ministry...

Every person he met with, what was discussed.

What's going on here, Murdoch?

Liquid hydrogen isn't an explosive.

It's a propellant.

Project D isn't a projectile, it's a rocket.

The difference being?

A projectile, um... A bullet or cannonball...

Expends its energy before leaving the barrel.

A rocket takes its energy along with it,

accelerating even after it leaves the barrel.

Now, a properly directed, constantly accelerated mass

could achieve the range necessary to reach New York.

Crikey.

So this thing could be real after all.

- How much time do we have? - 16 hours.

- What have you, George? - A spot of luck, actually, sir.

The maitre d' at House of Beef

remembers serving Minister Fergus.

- Steak and mash, apparently. - And after that?

Dessert, I would assume, sir. Something sweet.

I'm not talking about the dessert, Crabtree.

Eventually, sir, he hired a hansom cab.

It took him to the King's Hotel.

Is that where he was staying?

Well, that's just it. He's not listed as a guest there.

He may have been using a false name.

- Good work, George. - There's more, sir.

According to ministry records,

Minister Fergus on several occasions

met with a Dr. Janice Kemps,

but no minutes were ever recorded.

Have you attempted to contact her?

The medical college has no record of a Janice Kemps,

but I did find an address for a Dr. Kemps

at 2002 Trafalgar Road.

Oakville.

Dr. Kemps?

Dr. Janice Kemps?

Dr. Kemps.

This is private property.

You must leave.

Detective Murdoch. I need to speak with you.

Dr. Kemps is not here. My name is Svetlana.

When will she be returning?

- Soon. - Soon?

This is a matter of some urgency.

He returns presently.

He? Janice Kemps is a man?

What is that?

Is that a... a bird?

Some kind of airplane?

Oh, you are wrong. It's a man.

An extraordinary man.

What in the world?

Dr. Janice Kemps.

It's an anagram. For James Pendrick.

Hello, old friend.

Do you see any flecks or bright flashes?

Just the glint from your eyes.

Do not joke. You were above 30,000 feet.

The pressure suit worked.

Excuse me. Y-You were at 30,000 feet?

I was in the stratosphere, Murdoch,

where the sky above me was dark.

How?

Hydrogen balloon

made of a special rubberized fabric I found in Japan.

Why?

Why?

May as well ask why we take our next breath.

Let me rephrase the question.

What has this to do with Project D?

Project D?

Minister Fergus' special project.

My work for the minister is top secret, Murdoch.

I can't discuss it without explicit authority.

Mr. Pendrick, I've been charged with finding a weapon,

made of materials I believe to have been shipped

to this address.

Detective Murdoch,

I would have thought that you knew me better than to think

that I, James Pendrick, would ever build a weapon of any kind.

Sections of high-temperature steel

four feet in diameter,

intended for the barrel of a gun aimed at New York,

capable of firing a rocket carrying explosives.

Well, there is a rocket.

But it's not aimed at New York.

It certainly isn't intended to carry an explosive.

What's it intended to carry, then?

- Me. - You?

The intent of my invention

is the exact opposite of war, Murdoch.

I seek nothing less than to be an ambassador

to a world beyond our own.

The moon, Murdoch.

I intend to go to the moon.

- That'll be all, squire. - Sir?

I've shown the photograph to everybody.

The concierge says he knows Minister Fergus personally.

He swore he would have remembered him.

All right, track down the cabbies and the shoe-shine boys

who serve this hotel.

See if anyone remembers what happened to the minister

after he was dropped off last night.

Sir.

Why would someone take a cab to a hotel

and then not go inside?

Perhaps they were trying to throw us off the scent.

Or they arranged to meet someone outside the hotel.

Whatever for?

Some meetings are meant to be pri...

...vate.

Minister Fergus?

Yep.

As you can see, the rocket is intended to carry a man,

not explosives.

Where is this rocket now?

70 meters below our feet.

When it is fired,

it will accelerate through the launch tube

at three times the force of gravity.

Your body will weigh three times as much.

I've tested myself. I can handle it.

We will continue to accelerate

until we're outside the atmosphere,

where we'll carry momentum into orbit over the North Pole,

over Siberia, Mongolia.

And when we reach the South China Sea,

the rocket will begin to descend,

at which point I will open the door to the rocket,

and wearing my gliding suit, fly back to earth,

landing on the isle of Borneo.

Borneo?

And how long will this all take?

From takeoff to landing, 2 hours, 45 minutes.

That's a rather long time in such an enclosed space.

It is, and I must confess

to suffering from bouts of claustrophobia.

And that's why we placed the launch control

inside the rocket itself.

If I'm going to launch myself into orbit

in a tin can the size of a coffin,

I very much want to choose the moment.

Well, I-I am very impressed.

Of course you are.

But I didn't do it alone, Murdoch.

Here. This.

"The Exploration of Cosmic Space by Means of Reaction Devices"

by Konstantin Tsiolkovsky.

It outlines the means by which man can travel to the planets.

I had to travel to Russia just to meet the man.

And ended up with his brilliant daughter.

My brilliance is like moon next to your sun.

We made a proposal

to the minister of industrial development.

Canada could lead the world in space exploration.

Imagine a Canadian flag planted on the moon.

He agreed to fund our project.

With the proviso that it be kept top secret.

Hence Dr. Janice Kemps.

James, Minister Fergus has no interest

in going to the moon.

He intends to use all of this technology

to make a weapon capable of reaching New York City.

Impossible.

Svetlana, the experiments.

What experiments?

Minister Fergus insisted that we conduct careful experiments

to determine the range of the rocket.

We became very exact,

aiming for and sinking a rocket into Lake Abitibi,

350 miles away.

The exact distance to New York City.

Murdoch, I've been blind.

- Oh, my love... - No, I should have known.

I have too much faith in humanity.

He'll tell you. It's my fatal flaw.

I will do anything I can to help you.

It appears he was garroted.

There's no blood loss that I can see, no visible wounds.

Was he killed here, Doctor?

I'll know more when I do the postmortem.

Miss James?

I may need your assistance. Are you able to take dictation?

I can try.

Gentlemen, prepare the corpse.

James Pendrick is behind all this?

He didn't send the note. And there is no weapon.

Well, what about the barrel sections

and the rocket fuel?

Yes, there is a rocket, but it's pointed north.

So we've done all this running around for nothing.

Well, sir, someone is still trying to extort millions

from the government.

And a federal minister has been murdered.

Best not forget that.

Julia. What have you?

Given the temperature and the state of rigor,

Minister Fergus was killed

between 9:00 and 10:00 last night.

And I've yet to examine the rest of the contents,

but I found this in his stomach.

59.

It's a locker key from Union Station.

If he took the trouble to swallow that key,

it behooves us to find out what it opens.

Agreed?

Sirs?

A shoe-shine boy claims he saw the minister

step into a carriage outside the King's Hotel last night.

- What time was this? - About 9:00.

That's about the time he was dropped off.

And guess who's renting a room at the King's Hotel.

Just tell us, Crabtree.

Well, have a guess.

Lester Mogg.

Deputy minister.

Minister Fergus arranged to meet.

Why did you not tell us?

He never showed up.

And you didn't think that pertinent?

What was the meeting about?

I was hoping to convince him to turn himself in.

Or perhaps you lured him to the hotel so you could kill him.

Why would I kill him?

He was our only suspect.

Kill him, and no suspicion would fall on you.

You think I'm behind all this?

You knew about Project D.

You gave us just enough information

to believe the weapon had been built.

And you killed the minister to keep us from learning the truth.

I didn't.

Sir, I've been to locker 59 at Union Station.

Look at this.

Is this Pendrick's rocket?

Yes. The same.

But this one is aimed at 122 degrees.

Southeast.

What lies at that bearing?

New York City.

Mr. Ambassador.

Prime Minister.

Detective Murdoch.

Terrence.

To what do I owe such esteemed company?

Please, sit.

Alan Clegg is the ambassador?

Can I offer you some Necco wafers?

Straight from my hometown.

Thank you, no.

I'm afraid this isn't a social visit, Ambassador.

In less than five hours, unless we can locate it first,

a missile will be fired from Canadian soil towards America.

A missile?

What kind?

A rogue minister has built a missile

capable of reaching New York City.

Purely for defensive purposes.

But now someone has killed the minister

and is threatening to fire said rocket.

What will it be carrying?

Approximately 200 pounds of TNT.

We're telling you now so that arrangements can be made

on the ground to minimize loss of life.

I can say without rancor

that while America appreciates your candor,

if this rocket is fired and lives are lost,

a state of war will exist

between the United States and Canada.

What are our options, gentlemen?

- We pay the ransom. - That is not an option.

I understand, sir.

A $4 million hole wouldn't escape public scrutiny.

Are you suggesting I would choose destruction of my country

over my career?

No. No, not at... not at all, sir.

I regret if you inferred that I was inferring that...

Enough.

You're a good spy, Meyers,

but your skills as a toady are sadly lacking.

I won't bankrupt this country in order to save it.

$4 million would hardly bankrupt the country, sir.

And what about the next payment? And the payment after that?

Until we find this rocket,

the millions will flow like water down a drain.

Prime Minister, if I may?

The schematics of this second rocket

show it launching from an angle of 122.4 degrees.

So, southeast.

Assuming that the intended target is Lower Manhattan,

I can trace back along this bearing

to where the rocket is being launched from.

But it could be anywhere along this line?

Yes, sir.

That's why I would need to calculate

the expected range of the rocket.

Can you make such a calculation?

No.

Well, yes, yes,

but I would have to return to Mr. Pendrick's facility.

Well, then do so. With all haste!

Gentlemen.

Sir.

Sorry if I'm interrupting.

It's quite all right, Julia. What is it?

Someone's interfered with morgue evidence.

Pertaining to which case?

The latest, I'm afraid. Minister Fergus.

I always place the jar with the label directly facing front.

And this is?

Mr. Fergus' stomach contents.

And when you returned?

The label was skewed to the right.

What are these?

I've yet to do my analysis.

No spy worth his name would leave such an obvious indicator.

He wanted us to find this.

You think this was the work of a spy?

Of course. Likely one of our own.

He lacked sufficient time to alter the contents,

so he chose instead to adulterate them,

leaving a suspicion of said alteration.

Unless, of course, he anticipated

we would make that assumption.

Was there any sign of a break-in?

No.

Was there anyone else in the morgue when you left?

The morgue attendant, possibly.

Bring him to me.

I'd like to interview him personally.

This is exactly the same rocket as the one we built.

I was hoping to determine its range from these diagrams.

Oh, if we know exact mass,

we can solve for distance using my father's equation.

Well, the plan calls for 200 pounds of TNT.

I don't know the tare weight of the rocket.

I do. This should take just few minutes.

We're gonna have to scale this down.

We are here.

- Mississauga Road? - Just east of here. What of it?

The carbon sheet must have been folded,

preventing the rest of the word from printing through.

"289 Miss."

You think this could be "Mississauga Road"?

That's all we have.

He had nothing to do with this.

He's worked with me for years.

He won't talk.

I may need to apply more strenuous methods.

I thought the Canadian government

foreswore the use of torture.

Technically, I'm not part of the Canadian government, Doctor.

Just calm down.

Who else has a key to the morgue?

The other morgue attendants, but they'd already...

Doctor?

Excuse me, gentlemen. I need to test a theory.

Based on assumed mass,

I've calculated distance of 349 miles.

349 miles.

Mississauga Road.

It looks like your suspicions were correct.

Shall we?

There's nothing here.

Could we have missed it?

The specifications call for a launch muzzle

and a control room at a bearing of 122.4 degrees.

We've passed nothing like that.

Unless Miss Tsiolkovsky's calculations were wrong.

Have a look at this.

Svetlana's calculations.

She used the distance to calculate for the mass,

instead of the mass to calculate the distance.

But how would she know the distance?

We spoke about Mississauga Road.

You think she deliberately misled us to that location.

How do I keep doing this?

How can I, a man of reason and intellect,

possess such terrible judgment in those I trust,

in those I give my heart to?

We need to redo the calculation.

Yes, of course. Forgive me my self-pity.

Let's get to work.

My landlady said you asked to see me?

Miss James, did you go into the evidence locker

earlier today while I was out?

Yes, I did.

Did you remove any of the evidence?

Yes.

But just enough to conduct my experiment.

I was gonna bring it back.

Back?

After you'd adulterated it with your experiment?

Miss James, we've wasted an hour

chasing imaginary spies because of you.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry too.

But I won't have someone working for me that I can't trust.

I won't file a complaint, but...

...I must ask you to hand in your key.

What figure did you arrive at?

- 315 miles. - So did I.

Niagara-on-the-Lake.

Look. It wasn't Mississauga Road.

Mississauga Street.

We have to notify the Niagara Constabulary.

They won't be able to stop the missile. Only I can do that.

We can't get there on time.

She cut the phone line.

Of course she has.

That won't impede us, Murdoch. That only limits our options.

- What options? - Look at the wind gauge.

- 35 miles per hour. - From the north!

I have an extra gliding suit, Murdoch.

What was she doing rifling through the evidence locker?

I believe she was trying to help.

That's her story.

She's not a spy.

Of course she isn't.

But she could well be working for one.

She's just a young woman who showed poor judgment.

So you're telling us the best lead we had is now a dead end?

I'm afraid so.

I guess it's all up to Murdoch now.

Sir, that was Oakville Constabulary.

Pendrick's facility's been emptied out.

The telephone line's been cut.

I was afraid of this.

What?

Clearly, whoever's behind this

has cut off the lines of communication

and neutralized them.

Neutralized?

Killed.

It's a shame, really. They were both good men.

However, gentlemen, the fate of the nation.

Is now our prime concern, and if Murdoch is dead,

then our last option has expired.

We must inform the prime minister.

Bloody hell, Murdoch, where are you?

Both dead?

Most likely, sir.

Sir, whoever is behind this is clearly ruthless.

If they were willing to kill a Crown minister,

they wouldn't hesitate to kill men of lesser importance.

So there's only one course of action remaining.

I'm afraid so.

I won't pretend I'm not disappointed.

Should have acted more quickly when it first came to light.

That was my error.

How is payment to be made?

$4 million in Dominion bonds are to be placed in a briefcase

and left outside Crawford's pawnshop.

Right. Get to it.

We have less than half an hour.

- Sir. - Sir.

Are you all right, Murdoch? We parachuted late.

I flew!

I actually flew!

Yes.

- It's quite something, isn't it? - Yes!

The launch tube and control room are over there.

I flew.

Svetlana!

They've scuttled the launch controls.

- Help me! - Svetlana.

James, you must help me.

Svetlana, where are you?

I'm in the barn. I've been strapped to the launch tube.

My God.

The missile's about to fire.

A man will pick up this suitcase,

and he will leave with it.

He's not to be arrested or detained in any way.

Is that understood?

- Yes, sir. - Sir...

We're not letting him get away with it, Crabtree.

We're letting him think he's getting away with it.

He gets on a streetcar,

I want two constables sitting three rows behind.

If he changes streetcars, one of you is to follow

and the other one is to arrange a replacement.

You all know where the call boxes are.

Sir, what if he goes on foot?

Then it's the old follow-and-switch.

We do our jobs right, he won't even know.

Let's get to it.

- Yes, sir. - Yes, sir.

Svetlana!

James! James!

Oh, how did you find me?

Who are you working for, Miss Tsiolkovsky?

No, it's not what you think.

You don't want to know what I'm thinking.

I don't know his name. He's from the government.

He told me we would split $4 million.

He told me the rocket would never have to fire.

- Why? - I did it for you, my love.

Me?

You are the greatest man I've ever known.

What you could do with $2 million.

Forget the moon...

You could bring to mankind all the benefits of science.

A brave new world would be yours to create.

Not like this, Svetlana. Never like this.

We only have eight minutes to stop it.

No, there's no stopping it.

The clock is in the cone of the rocket.

Once it's set, there's no turning it off.

What about the override?

No, the override has been destroyed.

Murdoch, I have to get to that cone.

How?

There's only one way. Down the barrel.

How far down is it?

70 meters. I'll have to slide.

Oh, dear.

- Oh, dear. - What is it?

He suffers from fear of enclosed spaces.

It's okay! I'll... I'll get over it.

Just... I need a moment.

We don't have a moment, Mr. Pendrick.

Damn it, Murdoch. I'll talk you through it.

Use the walls to brace yourself!

I can't get it off!

It's a right-handed thread!

So...

Lester Mogg.

Which wire?

- Which wire? - Red.

No, blue. No! Red.

Pick one!

Pick one?!

Pick the other one!

He's done it. He's done it.

Murdoch! Murdoch, you did it!

Contact Station House Number Four!

Thank you.

Brass bollocks on this one.

- What? - Huh?

It's like he's daring us to make a move.

Exactly.

Sir, we've just been in touch with Pendrick.

Detective Murdoch's disabled the rocket.

Has he, now?

Would you like the honors, Terrence?

You're very kind, Thomas.

How many times do I have to tell you?

As many times as it takes to convince me.

I received a telephone call. I don't know who it was.

Didn't recognize the voice.

He told me I would find the minister's papers in a briefcase

outside of Crawford's pawnshop.

I was trying to help.

Murdoch! Bloody good work.

Likewise, sir. I understand we have a suspect in custody.

All we did was slap the cuffs on him.

You climbed down the barrel of a bloody cannon

just as it was about to be fired.

And you flew, no less!

Oh, it was more akin to plummeting, really.

Doctor, you would not believe what your hu...

Julia! What have you?

Miss James has identified the mysterious remnants

I found in the minister's stomach.

Miss James?

That's why she removed the evidence.

- She was testing a theory. - What theory?

They're Necco wafers.

Only sold in the Boston area.

Gentlemen.

Murdoch, if you will?

We found these in the stomach contents of Minister Fergus.

Necco wafers. From the Boston area, I believe.

That only proves that Minister Fergus was here.

I never suggested otherwise.

We also believe these carpet fibers will match your carpet.

I'm sure they'll match those of many carpets.

Honestly, gentlemen, if you're trying...

Would you bring her in, please?

Is this, um...

Yes, this is the man of whom I spoke.

He promised me the money.

So...

What is it exactly about our humble little country

that you want so badly?

Have you heard of Svante Arrhenius?

The Swedish scientist who predicted that carbon dioxide

emitted from coal burning would warm global temperatures

by eight degrees by the end of the century.

In a hundred years,

when America is nothing but a boundless desert,

Canada will have the ideal climate.

How could I not do everything I could to save my country?

By bombing your own people?

It was aimed at the Irish sector.

Alan Clegg, you are under arrest

for the murder of Minister Fergus.

You seem to have forgotten I have diplomatic immunity.

Our prime minister had a little chat

with your president earlier.

Immunity's been waived.

And I'm going to see that you hang.

Let's be having you.

Easy!

Miss James, I appreciate your initiative,

but why didn't you simply tell me?

We could have tested your theory together.

I didn't think it was my place.

I'm just a cleaner, after all.

Well, I think we both know that's not true.

You have medical knowledge. How?

I spent a year at the New York Medical College for Women.

Why didn't you finish?

My patron died.

His son was less inclined to support my schooling.

Well, Miss James, I can't hire you back as a cleaner.

I understand.

But if I had an assistant...

...who I could rely on...

I haven't spoken to the city,

so I don't know what I could offer you in terms of a salary,

but if you are interested...

Yes. Yes.

Will she hang?

Oh, of course not.

But she'll probably have to spend some time in jail.

I'll wait for her.

Whatever she did, she did it for me.

Perhaps I'm not such a bad judge of character after all.

Must be Meyers.

He's in the launch room.

I don't like him snooping around in there.

I can't believe they're going to destroy all this.

The Americans are insisting on it.

Not before I'm done with it.

I'm gonna launch myself into orbit, Murdoch. Tonight.

Are you serious?

I've already prepared the system.

All I have to do is get inside the rocket

and press the go switch.

In six hours, I will be the first man in space.

What?!

- What is it? - He's inside the rocket!

What?!

What the devil is he doing?

Hey!

Hey!

No. He couldn't have!

For the love of God!

Help me!

"-No! Eyers! Meyers!

Damn.

Indeed.

- William? - Mm-hmm?

Had an interesting conversation with the inspector today.

You did?

Indeed.

You defused a bomb that could have caused a war?

I did.

A bomb affixed to a rocket?

Uh, yes.

So a hero again.

He told me something else as well.

Well, the inspector certainly was talkative today.

You rode in a balloon and jumped out of it

in some kind of suit?

Mr. Pendrick assured me that it was safe.

And flew?

William Henry Murdoch,

if you ever do something like that ever again,

you had better take me with you.