Original subtitles

*

*

* Sometimes *

* The congregation *

* Takes the other side... *

* The implication *

* Is its own device... *

* In the middle *

* Of a salient fight... *

* Sometimes *

* Congregation *

* Can't be satisfied... *

* Can't be bothered *

* With the ways and whys... *

* Generations like *

* Their ways and times. *

*

The moment my daughter

was taken from me...

It was as if I was instantly placed

into two concurrent states.

In one,

I had a full understanding...

that Amaya was gone.

There was no doubt.

No... hope.

No holding onto anything.

N... No going back.

Just the certainty of her death.

In the other,

I had no comprehension of her death.

It was an impossible thing.

An implausible thing. Absurd.

Vast.

Meaningless.

Untrue.

It wasn't just that they were contradictory states.

They were absolute states.

Each was complete in itself, leaving no room for the other.

But...

...I held them both.

And still do.

There was nothing anyone could say to me.

There's nothing I can say to you.

What I can offer is my duty of care.

You can talk to me at any time.

You can call me at any time.

You have no professional obligations

that you need to fulfill.

Your job and your income are secure,

and it'll stay that way for as long as you need it to.

Thank you.

Can I go...

can I go home?

Yeah, of course.

(birds chirping)

(kids chattering in distance)

(dog barking in distance)

(door closes)

*

No.

I spoke to his mother.

I think they're gonna come out.

No, Mom. I...

I really don't want to come to Hong Kong.

Yes, obviously.

It's awful.

But...

Of course I have friends.

Mom, I haven't even spoken to those guys

since high school.

Please don't start...

I have friends.

And they're taking care of me.

In fact, I'm with them right now.

Staying with me.

Yes.

Okay.

Bye.

*

Fuck!

(sighs)

Fuck.

(sighs)

*

*

I died.

(knocking)

What the fuck?

Let me in.

Now, Jamie.

You need to not talk for a moment and just listen to me.

I'm sorry we broke up.

I'm sorry it hurt you.

It hurt me too.

And one day, we can talk it through.

But right now-- right now--

I need you to move past it.

Earlier today...

...I watched Sergei burn himself to death.

What?

He walks off the Amaya campus two days ago...

and disappears.

Totally vanishes.

24 hours later, he walks back on the campus,

covers himself in gasoline,

and sets himself on fire.

He killed himself.

Yes.

And it makes no fucking sense.

On this phone there is a sudoku game.

Except, I think it's not a sudoku game.

And it's password protected.

It is the one thing I have that might be able

to give me an explanation about what happened.

And I have one try left to break it...

...or it wipes.

(typing)

Okay.

Okay, you're right.

About what?

It's not a sudoku game.

It's a messaging app.

And it's Russian.

And it's state.

In origin, anyway.

How do you know?

Because it's talking to a server in Kazakhstan

and I recognize sections of the code.

There are a few different versions out there,

but this one is... is pretty old.

But old is good.

Shitload easier for me to open up.

This is...

I don't know, three or four years out of date.

Which is weird,

'cause Sergei was a top-level coder,

but... well, I guess it's like

heart surgeons who smoke or something.

I don't understand.

Uh... he didn't update.

Or his handlers didn't update.

And you've always got to update.

His handlers?

Lily, come on, if...

if this is Russian state, your guy was, like...

Like what?

A spy... or something.

Industrial espionage.

Can you open it?

I think so.

But there is a risk.

If it's more modern than I think,

there might be some embedded security

that I can't see,

which I might trigger

and then lose everything.

Do it.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Just do it.

(quick exhale)

Okay, it worked. We're in.

Jesus.

Jamie...

I need to read it alone.

Yeah, I understand.

I reset the password so you can get back in with this.

Thank you.

You can leave by the front door, if you like.

(door opens)

(door closes)

(phone vibrates)

(door opens)

-(grunts) -Really ought to quit.

I wouldn't bother.

It'll make no difference.

(chuckles) Still.

So...

coroner's report'll take a while, but...

the police are convinced that the kid was a suicide.

Uh, they've got a body,

they've got documentary evidence of the act.

This is over.

Except for the girl.

It's not over for her.

Emotionally, you mean.

Yeah.

Yes.

But that will pass.

It just takes time.

Hasn't for you.

Sir, you've got more money than God.

You think I care about money?

Did, once.

Yes.

But now I don't.

I was gonna say you got more money than God

and you live in dust.

Aspic.

So I should buy a bigger house?

Well, I'm not saying that, but...

baby steps.

Do something. Uh...

Buy a new car.

That thing's a piece of shit.

Get an electric. Mm...

Think of the environment.

But I don't think of the environment.

I understand what you're saying, Kenton.

But I am not holding on to the past.

I'm actually letting go of it.

Your tram lines. Mm.

Ours.

Right.

Good night, sir.

Good night, Kenton.

*

Come on, baby.

Don't do that.

LYNDON: What'd he do?

Called it "baby".

Oh, well, he can't help it.

He's the era that doesn't know.

Say what?

You're the era that doesn't know.

The one that says stupid shit and gets stuff wrong.

You're the fucking era that doesn't know.

Your era doesn't know shit.

All so fucking political.

All so woke.

But you don't know shit about history,

you don't know shit about art,

you don't know shit about music.

So you don't know shit about politics.

So you aren't woke.

You're comatose.

(Lyndon chuckles)

I don't know shit about music?

Please.

Listen to a lot of Bach, a lot of Coltrane?

No.

Then shut the fuck up.

Stewart.

Just don't call it baby.

Hey.

It's happening.

Yeah, baby.

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

(foghorn in distance)

(Russian accent): My name is Anton.

Sergei worked for you.

Since he was an undergraduate in Moscow.

And you work for Russian intelligence.

Yes.

You are frightened and confused.

But, at least where I am concerned,

you should fear nothing.

I have no interest in hurting you.

In fact, my reason for meeting

is to protect you.

I don't believe you.

At all.

Even your name.

And his.

I understand.

You now doubt Sergei.

Everything about him.

But... he loved you.

And you loved him. You knew him.

The point here is that I didn't know him.

Don't be ridiculous. Of course you knew him.

Maybe not every single thing, every secret.

But you knew him.

I'm married.

I have a wife and three children.

They know nothing about my work.

Does this mean I love them any less?

No.

I want you to consider something.

I want you to consider

that Sergei had a good reason for doing what he did.

It might be a good reason for you too.

What does that mean?

Why are we standing here now?

Because you hacked Sergei's phone

and contacted me.

Do you think anyone would do that?

I don't.

You're very resourceful. Very brave.

I'm not gonna work for you.

I just want to understand why Sergei killed himself.

Okay.

Then understand this.

In my profession,

when a colleague commits suicide,

the first thing I say to myself

is they did not commit suicide.

I saw CCTV footage.

He covered himself in fuel.

Then lit it.

That's what you saw.

But hold on to what you know.

Did Sergei feel as if he was going to commit suicide?

Was your life together happy or sad?

Hold on to the fact that he loved you

and you loved him.

You're telling me he was murdered.

I have no doubt.

The CCTV film...

Is fake.

You contacted me because you wanted an answer.

Here is an answer.

Sergei's job was to infiltrate Devs.

He did it. Something happened.

He was killed.

If that answer is sufficient,

walk away. Continue with your life.

If that is not enough,

you're going to have to work with me.

Sergei's phone is wiped.

If you want to contact me again,

put a sign in your bedroom window.

The chair you have there.

Where you put clothes.

Don't feel invaded.

Nobody has a private life anymore.

If you move the chair away from the window,

I will contact you.

You should.

That's just fucking great.

I don't fucking believe this.

Aren't we all missing the point?

The fact is that our variances are now so small

that we can make a 2,000-year backward projection.

No one's missing the point.

Yeah, Stewart is.

Jesus.

Again: we made a 2,000-year projection.

Where the happy smiles? Where's the champagne?

We should be bathing in it.

It was a fuzzy projection.

It's unreliable.

Holy shit. Listen to yourself.

It was a fucking miracle.

No, Stewart.

You want to talk about the point?

That's the point.

It's not a miracle.

And it needs to be.

We're not chasing a Nobel Prize here.

The irony is that despite our quantum computing,

our problem is binary.

It either succeeds totally or it doesn't.

Anything outside total is not total.

Well, then the problem is not binary.

It's reality.

If... if you want total accuracy--

zero variance-- then a heuristic approach

is never going to work.

You're literally gonna need a computer

the size of the universe.

One qubit per particle.

Good fucking luck with that.

That may actually be true.

No. It isn't true.

LYNDON: Why?

Because I know

we're going to do better.

Would that be "I know we're gonna do better"

or "I know

we're gonna do better"?

He's saying have a little faith, Stewart.

In ourselves.

That's all.

Okay.

Hey, can you guys give me a moment?

You're right, you did great work.

And yes, you earned a bath in champagne,

if that's what you want.

You tell accounting I okayed it.

But... yeah, I need a moment alone.

Of course.

Let's go.

*

*

*

(indistinct chatter in distance)

Hey, man. You got a smoke?

Um, no.

Aw.

You waiting for someone?

Uh-huh.

-Is it Lily? -Jesus Christ.

Is it?

Yes.

You're wasting your time, man.

She's already got a guy.

Russkie.

Yeah, thanks.

I-I don't blame you for trying, though, man.

She is cute.

I'm not trying, man.

Oh.

Well...

I guess I'm gonna stretch my legs a little, you know?

-An evening constitutional. -Sure.

You got to stay fit man, you got to stay healthy.

-Hey. -Hey.

Can we just talk? For a couple of minutes?

You want to come in?

Place has changed a bit.

Yeah.

It's nice.

You want to sit?

I'm gonna get a drink.

Can I get you anything?

No, I'm good, thanks.

Was it that you wanted to know what was on the messaging app?

Oh, no. I don't.

Really. That's something between you and him.

Obviously, I hope it was what you wanted to see.

It wasn't.

Okay.

So what was it you wanted to talk about?

Well... (sighs)

I had this crazy thought.

And it got me worried.

And then I couldn't stop thinking about it.

It's just...

I know you.

You do stuff.

The stuff other people only think about,

you go right ahead and do it.

And I suddenly realized

Lily won't just read the messages on the app.

She might actually use the app.

To contact whoever's on the other end.

Like I said, I know you.

Yeah. You know me.

So I wanted to talk you out of it.

I don't think that would be a good idea.

I agree.

It wouldn't be a good idea.

Really?

Yeah.

So don't worry about it.

Okay.

I mean, I knew I was probably overthinking.

But that, uh... that's good.

You okay, Lils?

Under the circumstances?

Yeah.

Under the circumstances.

All right.

Well, that was it, I guess.

Maybe I'll see you in another couple years.

But, so it's said, uh,

if you need to-- if you want help of any sort--

you can... you can contact me.

I'm not expecting anything back. I just...

It's just an offer to help.

Thank you, Jamie.

Nah, it's cool.

No. Jamie. I mean it.

And I mean cool.

See you.

Bye.

(door closes)

Aw, man.

You look glum, brother.

You struck out, huh? Tried to warn you.

Okay, if I give you ten bucks,

will you never speak to me again?

Okay.

I just have a 20.

-Here. -Oh, man.

Thank you, brother.

This is like the best deal...

Oops.

I already broke the terms of our arrangement, man.

Exactly that kind of unprofessionalism

led me to a life on the streets.

Hey. My lips are sealed, man.

Silencio.

Okay? Silencio.

(car door closes)

*

*

*

Hey, Ivan.

Anton.

Ah. Okay.

I just wanted to have a...

no-bullshit conversation with you, if that's okay.

Yes, that's okay.

Great.

So, I don't exactly know who you are,

but I know what you are.

I know that you tried to get your boy to pull off

some industrial espionage.

It was a long game, but it didn't work.

I shut it down.

And now you're gonna try again.

On the short game, with the girl.

But it's not gonna work with her, either.

I'll shut her down, too.

You know I will.

And she's just a kid. Just a bright kid.

Wrong place, wrong time, wrong boyfriend.

An innocent.

You remember what they are, right?

-I remember. -Mm.

So, how about it?

I'm saying, one professional to another...

...can you let this go?

Please.

This is a no-bullshit conversation?

Have I bullshitted up to now?

Yes, you have.

You said I should back off my investigation

for the life of an innocent girl.

-And? -You don't care about the girl.

You're just using her as leverage.

And then your strange private tech company

can continue its strange private project,

totally unobserved.

(soft chuckle) Standard American double-speak.

You people so love to sound straightforward.

Straight-talkers. Straight-shooters.

Because it gives you the cover of virtue...

...while you lie.

(soft chuckle)

How's that for no bullshit, Joe?

Kenton.

I know.

*

* Sometimes *

* The congregation *

* Takes the other side... *

* An inquisition *

* Of familiar lies... *

* A grave distraction *

* From a quiet rite... *

* Sometimes *

* The congregation *

* Can't make up its mind... *

* Incarceration *

* Creeps up *

* From behind... *

* The implication *

* Is its own device... *

* In the middle *

* Of a salient fight... *

* Sometimes *

* The congregation *

* Can't be satisfied... *

* Can't be bothered *

* With the ways and whys... *

(crack)

* Generations like *

* Their ways *

* And times. *

Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH