Original subtitles

Pioneers have always been met with ridicule.

Astor, Mr...

Gentlemen were scientists.

As am I.

They tested observable phenomena.

And let me see, your thesis is that voices of the dead

can be heard through the new London telephone network.

Do I have that right, Mr. Haig?

Dr. Haig?

But may I ask, how many of these voices you yourself

have discerned through the static interference?

No.

Mummy not rung lately.

We are not without sympathy for your loss.

My own dear mother passed away just a year ago.

But even so...

We are to officially inform you that, as of this moment,

you are no longer a member of Her Majesty's Royal Medical Society.

Struck off.

Wasn't that our telephone?

Hello?

I have been so patient.

Won't you grant me a little grace?

Just a whisper.

Just a song.

We always loved our songs.

Why doesn't Marley always get the glamorous job?

Another silver tooth.

Annie Kirby, we're not coming thieves.

Are you sure it's even this place?

It's the only pauper's pit on this side of the city.

Where else are they gonna put someone like him?

Jump him in the river.

I am done.

Need some sleep.

Sometimes when I'm digging these graves,

I think maybe I'll just slide in underneath a box.

That's nice. Tell me more.

Fucking finally.

Got him.

Drilled straight through the bloody floor.

Sergeant told Wigsy, malady sent him.

Told you.

He was trying to pull the fucking building down.

Brass, flip-shot.

Quickly! Quickly!

Can you direct me to the women's barracks?

Or am I a little early for those?

I just don't understand what she did.

It'll be an investigation.

Sir, you can't take anything.

This is them.

The Touched.

This is their revenge for malady.

No.

They won't stop until they've shook London into the ground.

She's got no one there.

And you lot, you do nothing.

So we know the last place malady was seen.

At her own hanging.

We know how she was dressed.

As Miss Effie Boyle, also deceased.

According to your research...

I'd take a wage at a colonel still with her.

And we can offer her a reward.

Someone must have seen him on the streets.

Good morning.

I've had white all in my ear all morning.

About our mismanagement of Yang Im.

Remind me, who was the officer in charge of that again?

I'll just call him up, should I?

Tell him you went along with the wrong bloody woman.

She wasn't even touched.

It's the truth.

No one wants to hear it.

Maybe you can't.

No.

If you won't tell the public about malady...

What are you gonna do, go down Fleet Street?

You set one yellow toe in the direction of those newspaper maggots Monday.

And I will personally make sure that every last cop at this side of Adrian's fucking wall...

Knows what kind of man you are.

The company you search out after dark.

All your gentlemen friends.

I like to do my research and all.

It's good to know you're working with.

But there'll be no more special privileges on my watch.

You try and push through on this.

It'll be five years hard labor and public disgrace.

I don't think many people would be interested in your little story then, will they?

Not the best place for your sort.

Prison.

So...

I'll just relieve you of these, shall I?

And take me off the touch detail.

Putting you out of the beat.

World's gone mad.

This is true.

Mr. Dar?

You did it.

We did it?

How is the recon?

They've no idea what we were doing there.

But they've tripled their numbers since yesterday.

Grand Abbey's the same.

It wasn't your fault Maladie didn't want to be saved.

It was the graveyard, you know.

It just made me think of her soul.

Wandering through the streets of London for eternity.

And all those poor people just electrocuted.

They did come to watch her hang.

Harriet said some of them brought picnics.

She thought that if anyone could have spotted those paralynes, it should have been me.

She ran them through here, look.

So obvious.

Stop getting over it.

Is that how you dealt with it when you were a soldier?

All the death, you just stopped thinking about it.

I had a job to do.

Shall we make a start on our man?

I want to have that meeting first.

You know, the meeting where you tell everyone about the future of the Glanthier.

What's actually going on?

There's no time.

Maladie, I've lived through this before, remember?

Earthquakes are just the starting gun.

It's a matter of days before the Glanthier merges.

Well, then you have an hour to spare now, haven't you?

You have to be down there with it when it happens, in case it needs protection.

Or transport.

Or...I don't fucking know what it'll need.

A map? A ship?

Well, whatever it needs, this lot can help.

You owe them the truth.

We can't do this by committee.

You know what it'll be like, herding bloody cats.

No one can agree on anything.

I'm sorry, it's just so much easier to get on with things when it's you and me.

Following your mission.

Yes.

We have the body of that thing right here.

It could be the answer to who's down there.

Come on, then.

Let's make that start.

Thank you.

Amalia's the spirit of a soldier from the future and the body of a drowned baker,

and she's come here to tell you all about an alien under London

who gave you all your magical powers.

I'll catch you after a bit of a start.

Right.

Came out of that cave with a clear mission to help the Galanthe

and be ready to defend it.

Well, thank you for your time.

Penance and I have some urgent business...

Sorry, what did it tell you?

Galanthe don't really speak.

More like show you things in your mind.

Okay, so what things did this one show you?

Fragments.

Nothing coherent.

But I thought it sang.

Mary's song.

That's what Myrtle translated.

So if I've got this right, the Galanthe uses its psychic tentacles

to suck out your brain.

Not that kind of alien.

Can you prove it from the future?

How would I do that?

You could.

Tell us what's going to happen tomorrow.

Next week?

The Queen dies quite soon.

But I haven't had my formal debut.

Forget it.

Doesn't die.

I mean, does die.

Everyone dies.

But you didn't, apparently.

So what's the plan?

I mean, I know there must be a plan, right?

Because of the thing you just had us do.

Look, yesterday we went down to the cave.

Some of us, anyway.

And it was a shit show.

I only just escaped those human robot things.

Shock troops.

Oh, that is a good one.

If we go back in blind, we'll be slaughtered.

Or worse, they're a touchdown.

They're more like the living dead than people.

Whoever's running this operation hates us as much as they do the Galanthe.

And as for the shock troops,

yes, that part of the plan is already underway.

And no idea who these people could be.

Might even be someone from the future.

Hitch derived, like me.

Is that what the Galanthe showed you?

Like I said, not particularly coherent.

Anyway, Penance will work on weapons.

No, not weapons.

Nonviolent objects of confusion and defense.

And I will continue drawing up our rescue strategy.

You do have resources here, you know.

What will the alien do when it come out?

What it was supposed to do in the first place.

Unite humanity.

Oh, that sounds nice and easy.

Look, best case scenario, it's going to save the world.

Which world?

You said save the world.

That's right.

Because I don't know about any future.

But the world outside this place is on fire.

He said best case scenario.

What's worst case?

It turns the world apart and we all die.

It's the only way to save the world.

What's going on?

I don't know.

What happened?

Was it a rip-off?

It said flashbacks.

It started when you came here.

Didn't everything go forward instead?

Clearly not.

Anyway, it wasn't the same as before.

Look, I'll sort myself out.

All on your own?

Just like always, huh?

Marley, actually.

Stop. Stop.

Look at me.

I've worked with soldiers before.

Look at me.

Battle exhaustion doesn't go away by ignoring it.

In my experience, that's exactly how it goes away.

I know what I need.

Nah, you know what you want.

Same thing as you.

Yeah, I have no idea what I want.

Oh, sorry to interrupt.

Look, I've done the fucking meeting now.

Can we please start?

Fuck.

Tidy up in there, will you?

The things and the people.

No, not that 16th century fucking delve.

Jesus, orgy.

Hugo, this place is in absolute state.

Lucky that I'm here to help and...

No, I prefer not to look at it when it does that.

Thank you very much.

Bloody river.

Well, someone's got to sort it out.

And since I very much doubt you've actually removed my name from those papers...

Don't worry.

You've got pretty little head about all that.

Very much in the process.

Orgy?

Jesus.

Is that a bleeding ear?

Kind of fractured rib.

Have you been fighting?

Who?

What?

Who is?

Tell me everything.

Actually, that is why I'm here.

I am.

I do need to tell you something.

And I'm only telling you because really, you're my best friend.

And...

So...

Orgy, have you met somebody?

Yes.

Actually, I suppose that is part of it.

Who is it?

I wouldn't want to say.

Secret names are delicious.

But you clearly have some advice.

What went wrong?

Well, I know what I would say.

Yes, please.

I would say, lady woman, I am Augustus Bidlow.

Yes.

I am a man in my own right.

A man with a bleeding ear and a fractured rib.

A fighting man.

Independent, brave, choosing whichever path to adventure I damn well want.

Fuck.

Of course, you mustn't say any of that.

Oh.

Oh, yes.

No.

Orgy, just be your real charming, awkward self.

Who on earth could resist this?

Well, that's just it, Hugo.

Listen, my real self.

I...

Will someone please do something about these fucking tremors?

There must be some sort of minister or something.

Somehow I struggle to see the cream of London society

drooping out of the Saturnalia ball

just to be dripped on next to a fucking chamber pot.

A ball? No.

No.

Hugo, I really don't think now is the time.

And actually, as the official proprietor...

If yesterday's grotesque events have taught me anything,

it is that London needs a fucking party!

So if it's all right with you, Orgy,

mine tend to throw a festival so extraordinary, so transcendent,

it will pass into legend,

and all this ghastliness will be obliterated, erased.

Hugo, you do realise that the Ferryman's is just a sex club for rich people?

It is not just a sex club.

It is a fucking phenomenon!

Mrs Beecham should have told you this door is to remain closed.

Oh, I'm sorry, my lord. I didn't intend to...

I'm sorry, my lord. I didn't intend to...

I'm sorry, my lord. I didn't intend to...

Apologies for the maid. First day.

Funny time to go shooting with all of London up in arms.

Nice bit of pheasant you brought back, though.

Tell Roberts to take that horse to the lower field.

Miss Lily's horse? Always been a spirited creature.

I think it can sense the tremors.

If I was a superstitious woman, I'd say they were a sign of something.

Messages from the heavens.

I'd have thought by now you would have realised

that if there is a god, he's an Englishman.

He has no interest in declaring his intentions.

He'll come back for you.

He'll come back for you.

You're the fucking ape, mate.

Free-time champion of Lion House.

Since when do you ever throw in the towel, hm?

Fuck you, the Petunist.

Come on.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. What did you see?

Who was it? Was it you?

Oi!

What are you scribbling away for?

Nimble Jack's tales of the touched.

Newspaper men going to be giving their eye teeth for these.

The city's on fire and you're spinning the wheel.

I'm not going to do it.

You're not going to do it.

I'm not going to do it.

I'm going to do it.

I'm going to do it.

I'm going to do it.

I'm going to do it.

I'm going to do it.

I'm going to do it.

The city's on fire and you're spinning stories.

Someone should.

The only role model for a touch kid on the street is Maladie.

I'd rather they had a fire-wielding Amazonian princess.

Is that where you think my family's from?

Why would she kill herself, though?

Maladie and all those people she took with her.

Was it because, what, that they were hypocrites?

Or why did you work for her?

Let's start with that.

Well, there was the money.

Nah.

I don't know.

She just had something about her.

But, end of the day, we're all just puppets for her, you know?

Wind up toys with her turn.

Not my kind of leader.

Is that what you came here for, then?

A leader?

Don't strike me as the following type.

I'm passing through.

Never liked staying away for long.

Who'd do this to a new MP?

Who could do this, that's what I want to know.

Look at him.

The time that's been taken, the design.

I just hope the artist left some kind of signature.

Could be the first step towards whoever's got the Galanthe underarm card.

Jimmy here can get some justice for what was done to him.

Jimmy?

After my uncle's, Jim.

What happened to him?

No, nothing.

Just missing.

How did they replace his nervous system like that?

Could it be electrical, then?

Or how is this dog going to charge to make them last so long?

Nice to see you enjoying your work.

Oh, no, no.

It is horrible.

I just...

I've never seen this kind of science before.

This isn't science.

This is evil.

What's that?

What was that connected to?

Nothing.

Not the nerves, not the wiring.

It looks like some sort of casing.

What's that there?

It's a stump.

Little letters.

Chinese.

Ten, Pennefield Clockmaker.

You need to come with us.

A lot of trouble in Limehouse these days.

We're all ready for trouble, Mrs. Turinoy.

Please, Sue Ping, I only speak a few words of Chinese.

Badly.

I know.

No, no, no, no, no.

No.

It's the rest of the city today.

No one's to go out.

No children are allowed to go.

It's technical.

Back you go.

Malia?

Oh, no, we'll be walking targets out there wearing those.

Mrs. Turinoy, we're on a bit of a mission, so...

I'm game.

About that, with the cave and...

I wanted to apologize, I suppose.

And also not apologize, actually.

Because I'm my own man.

I'm a fighter.

And I'm a...

I'm going to follow my own path, whatever way that takes me.

Malia, just wait.

That was a disaster.

Embarrassing.

Tell you what, though.

All this focus on the Galanthe.

There's no one out there anymore doing what Mrs. True and Lucille used to.

Looking out for the likes of us.

God knows there's more.

Don't envy them today.

Let's go.

Let's go.

Strange place to meet.

Me and me brother used to come down here when we were scuttlers.

Dig around.

You'd find all sorts.

I never knew you had a family.

What, do you think I just washed up here one day?

Perhaps they grew me at a workhouse.

To what do I owe the summoning, Frank?

That woman, Effie Boyle, that journalist, remember?

He was in the station.

She was there.

He was laughing together, whispering.

Were you jealous?

Did you know her?

Had you met her before?

No.

What did she say to you?

What did she say?

Let me see.

She said that she thought you were wasted in your job.

She never said no.

She said that the longer you spend that rotten place full of you,

the further you are from ever being the man you're meant to be.

What kind of man is that, then?

You know, the thing about you, Swann...

I sense that you're going to tell me.

Yeah.

The thing about you is you've got it all.

The blue blood, the money, the parties, and you wear it well.

But I think underneath, you despise it.

I don't think you want none of it.

And I suppose you're going to tell me what it is that I want?

No.

Now, that I cannot claim, am I?

Hold on.

Here we go.

Eh?

Look at that.

Will that get me into your posh little club, will it?

You've got some of that charm.

Hmm?

What does she say here?

She told me to keep an eye on you, whether you like it or not.

Everybody needs a friend, Frank.

Let's go.

Ah!

Ordinarily, a guest waits for an invitation before paying a visit.

Perhaps you should tell that to Mrs. Amalia True.

After all, I didn't invite her to our little excavation site, did you?

And yet, down she came, all the same.

Mrs. True?

What was she doing there?

Talking to the creature, apparently.

Decapitating a few of my guards.

But then, the communicating, I think she upset it.

All these earthquakes.

You think the monster is responsible for the tremors?

Is there any way that she could have discovered my involvement?

Anything in the cave? Think!

You know, it's been raised before, but I question Mrs. True's credentials.

She doesn't seem like a baker to me.

And I'm beginning to wonder if your two little projects may no longer be quite compatible.

Rehabilitation has always been designed to go hand in hand with a cure.

But what if society were to find out about our sideline?

Our little cerebral forays?

Medical breakthroughs have always required human trials.

I will take care of Amalia True.

And when the creature is dead, she and her kind will all be released from their purgatorial affliction.

Well, truthfully, if it's even taken form in there, we don't know quite what effect killing the creature might have.

Our doubts are traitors, are they not?

But with you beside me, Lavinia, I find I am resolve itself.

Much further to the clockmaker. Not far.

I don't mean all that. The cave, you know...

You are allowed to make your own choices.

I just thought if I could find the Glamour Fae, then it might...

It might show me or...

Tell me.

Turns out the thought of wearing one of these things is a lot more frightening than going off to face the might of Her Majesty's armed forces.

Would you... Would you do the honours?

No, it's not the best day to be wearing one of those things.

Doesn't matter.

What's wrong?

Just... Sorry. It's... The birds today.

It's like they're losing their direction.

Because of the tremors?

Doesn't the book tell us that witchcraft and powers, all these are in affront to God?

And has he ever shown London such signs of his displeasure?

Tracking the very earth on which we stand.

Trouble. He shouldn't stay.

Filling the streets with fire and blood.

What about you, brothers and sisters?

Will you not answer his call?

Will you not awaken to his alarms?

Will you not arise, London?

Look! There's one!

A fucking witch!

Look at it!

You've got a reckoning coming!

This is the piece we found.

You recognise it?

It is a casing from one of our carriage clocks.

There is a number in the mark.

We were finding the buyer for you.

Too much trouble with these men.

They say the city belongs to them.

None of the touch can stay in Chinatown anymore.

Someone is giving the purists our names.

And addresses.

Oh, fucker!

Malia?

She's found the address.

She's touched!

Is she Italian? What's she saying?

She's not Italian. She's touched.

Speak again.

Go on.

I said speak!

I said speak!

Why?

My friend said it's because you're cursed by God.

They touched. But I know. I've seen.

It's you that is the curse on us.

And you take and you take and you turn everything bad.

Come on.

Come on.

Come on, girl.

Come on.

Come on.

You hearing me?

Run!

Come on.

Come on.

Come on.

Come on.

What are you doing here?

It's you. You fucking blinded me.

You kicked me in the unmentionables.

A vagina is not unmentionable, Penance.

We've been through this before.

Come on.

Mrs. Drew.

Mrs. Daff.

How did you get here without the address?

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

Jimmy.

Dr. Hake.

Darling.

Who is this?

Who's this?

You're calling to speak to...

That accent's liable to slip.

Am I wrong in saying Canadian?

Originally.

Who the fuck are you?

No.

No, not the praying, please.

Why would you not tell me about these rippings?

See, they're going to stop.

I'm losing my fucking mind.

I'm breaking up into little pieces.

What if the gland comes out and I disappear?

Sir Fair Alexis Naveen, you listen to me.

Right now, we have a name to our enemy.

We have a strange old lady from the future on the other end of a telephone line.

We have an alien under threat.

We have a mission to save the bleeding world, so I will not hear one more word from you about disappearing or breaking up or giving up.

You want to stop me, soldier?

Get on your fucking feet and get back to work.

Get on your fucking feet.

What have they done?

We can't let it stand.